Grit
None of them understand.
Oh sure, they pretend to, and they follow where I lead, and they don't insult me to my face, but they don't really understand.
So they call me bitch and whore behind my back, and smirk when I walk out of his room.
But they can never realize.
I always get what I want. I always have, and I don't plan on it changing anytime soon. From the earliest time I can remember, I have gotten my way in everything.
And I've never wanted anything more than I want him.
That's why he's the challenge. Yes, I know he's mine in the end. Neither of us have a choice in that matter. The betrothal was made since before either of us could speak or even chew properly.
Ever since then I wanted him.
Something about his steel eyes commanded me. Something in the way he moves, the presence he has, the way he says my name, even when he's mocking me or insulting me, seizes me and forces me to him. But I refuse to let him have all the power.
Having him in name was not enough. I needed, no, need, to know that he is truly mine. That he loves me. That he wants me. That he can't do without me.
But he's always been just that much stronger.
I know he doesn't care. It doesn't mean that I stop trying.
It means that when I leave his room I don't straighten my clothes or fix my hair or give the rest of the Slytherins something to laugh about, but I hold my head high and shoot any of them down with a proud stare.
It means that when I catch him staring at her, she who is so unworthy of his love and his station, I don't make a fuss or let him know that I see right through him. Instead I smile and I pout and I flirt and I try to distract him from thoughts of her.
And after we finish having sex (it is not making love yet, but soon it will be) and he cries in my arms, I don't lord it over him. I let him have his tears and then I let him have his pride.
When he pushes me away, or insults me, or hits me, or breaks my heart over and over again, I don't give up. I grit my teeth and tell him whatever he needs to hear.
Parkinson family rule number one: Never give up. You'll always win in the end as long as you stick with it and refuse to be inferior or second to anybody.
Pansy's always gotten what she wants. That's what my mother has always said about me, and she's always been right.
And I want him.