A/N: Another roonil wazlib and pahn-zeee story. I haven't written in forever, but it is summer time and I find myself with nothing to do but make up fictional stories about fictional characters. Sorry for any grammatical errors and the many run-on sentences. I'm absolutely terrible at proofreading, so if you guys have any critiques, pass it on to me and I'll try to figure it out. heh. Finished this at 3AM, enjoy!! none of the characters belong to me. &apparently html strikeout and superscripts do not show up! Hopefully, you all catch my drift in the story.
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Pansy Parkinson Has A Confession To Make
I am Pansy Parkinson. The reigning 'Ice Queen' of Hogwarts and a wand snapping, rule breaching, button pushing extraordinaire. I have the impeccable trademark Slytherin sneer and smugness, which can rival that of Draco Malfoy's (though I honestly believe I execute it more fiercely with perfection. But I'll, so modestly, let him hold that crown because he has many daddy issues to deal with, if I took it away from him I'd think he'd shrivel up and die.) With my reputation around school grounds I should be legally declared the most bad ass* bitch around. A high honor to uphold, but it is no feat I cannot accomplish, since I live and breathe to shimmer down the hopes and dreams of others while holding myself at a feverishly high standard.
However, I am guilty of possessing one, and only one, uncharacteristic flaw. His name is Ron Weasley and I am his --snogging partner--fuck buddy-- girlfriend. It's incredibly embarrassing how I act around this Weasel*. I am conduced to a pile of goo whenever he slips his rough, Quidditch worn hands into mine after Potions and whisper --dirty things he'll do to me tonight-- sweet nothings into my ear. My tongue is helpless in such a predicament. I often result to odd noises, that happen to come out of my mouth quick enough before he thinks I've become a mute, or giggling like a pack of 2nd year girls whenever --Scabface--Ron's shadow-- Harry Potter glances toward their general vicinity. I've never acted like such a twat in the 5 years I've been with Draco Malfoy. Granted, Draco never had the strong, muscular shoulders that I easily cling on to when we... –ahem- (sorry, I do not kiss and tell…much) nor the height, that allows me to wear 4 inch heels without looking like mother and child, nor the sweetness, that after a long night of fiery and emblazoned shenanigans all he wants to do is…cuddle.
It was definitely courageous of me to come out as an official couple, walking hand and hand into the Great Hall during dinnertime and having every students' eyes slowly turn into the size of Quaffles. But who better to cause such shock and awe in inter-house unity than I, Pansy Parkinson, the revolutionist. If I hadn't done it then Blaise Zabini would come strolling in with the likes of…Hannah Bloated Virgin Abbott and become the talk of the town! Ick. Although, Ron wasn't as courageous as I, who initiated the huge step in our relationship…Okay. Maybe Ron wasn't the one that needed to be persuaded, pushed and pulled into the decision. I only agreed to it because the late night rendezvous in the Room of Requirement and numerous tutor sessions in the back of the library wasn't kicking it. He isn't that dim to require two sessions a day in every available subject, so that wouldn't have worked as an excuse. And someone was bound to find out, we're not exactly the quietest couple…if you know what I mean. Even with our bold attempt, it still caused wild gossip throughout the school, but it's nothing a quick sneer and gentle hexing threat can't fix.
So, there you have it folks. Pansy Parkinson is almost not perfect. There are simply some things in my life I cannot control; like my irrepressible, hormone driven need to pounce on Ron Weasley, especially after Quidditch practices, matches, scrimmages, Potions and Charms class, during Prefect rounds, Hogsmeade visits and etc. It's safe to say Ron Weasley has changed my life. But there are some things that take a while to accomplish, being nice to Potter and Granger is still up there on my 'to-do' list. However, I am spending Christmas holiday with Ron at --his ramshackle hut-- The Burrow. He told me it would be a tight squeeze, so I'll have to share --his bed with him-- a room. Sigh, I am becoming such a commoner.
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* I know the English does not use 'ass' in their slang, but 'bad arse bitch' does not fall off the tongue as nicely. Unless someone can find an equally fierce title Pansy can hold.
* Just because Pansy is with Ron does not mean she will stop using teasing names. She's still Pansy, deal with it.
the world needs moar ron/pansy stories.