Written for Deborah as a very late Christmas gift. I really hope you will like it.
Daily prompt: Dalliance.
Word count:1203
He didn't know how it started, who started this relationship of theirs, but he regretted nothing. It was complicated, but all the good things were worth fighting for. She was worth fighting for.
People believed him more stupid than he really was. Sure he was no genius like Hermione, but he understood more and than he seemed to. That's how he had seen her. Really seen her. Not just the face she showed to the world. The perfect Slytherin pureblood who hated muggleborns and blood-traitors;he was a blood-traitor, but she didn't hate him. She didn't hate anybody. Well,perhaps the Dark Lord, for taking away her parents, her childhood. Everything. The right to be herself. Her parents were loyal to him,too loyal. Their own daughter was less important than their Lord's wishes.
So she was raised to be the perfect wife for a Death Eater son or worse, a Death Eater. But that wasn't going to happen if he had anything to say about. He will not let anybody to hurt her. Not while he still had breath.
"Hey."
Ron turned around and smiled. She had come.
"Hey."he said simply and hugged her tight. It felt so good to have her in his arms again.
"I missed you. So, so much."he whispered in her ear. He took her hand and together they seated themselves on the floor at the back of the library.
They were safe here from Filch; he never came unless one of the books in the Restricted Section screamed, but they had their special place.
Hermione always said that he should spent more time in the library, she didn't know that he spent all his nights here. He had not told her that. It was their secret and he didn't want anyone to know, not even his best friend.
Why? Because here he had noticed her, here they had shared their first kiss, here was their special place. Well, in the back of the library where there was a small room,also full with books that had a sofa and a fireplace.
Here they could be themselves, that's why he loved the library. For this small heaven where it didn't matter that he was a Gryffindor, blood- traitor and that she was a pureblood Slytherin. They were just Ron and Pansy. Nothing else mattered; they were safe. Nobody could find them there.
They had to keep everything a secret, if people knew that Ron Weasley one third of the Golden Trio and Pansy Parkinson 'girlfriend' of Draco Malfoy were dating...
"A Knut for your thoughts?"asked Pansy waking him up from his reverie.
"I was thinking how much I want the world to know that you're mine. How much I hate when I see you with Malfoy and how much I hate to pretend that I like Hermione when I don't."he sighed. Things were complicated with the two of them. He pretended to "love" Hermione and Pansy pretended to date Malfoy. Which he hated with passion, at least Hermione knew it was all a charade; she helped him, pretending herself. But Malfoy, Malfoy didn't know and he didn't even deserve Pansy's attention. He didn't treat her like he should. Like he did. Still if word got out both of their families would be in grave danger.
Not to mention that his family would believe him a nutter for dating her, for loving her. Or that it was just a dalliance for her, his part. That he used her and she used him, trying to fool each other. But that was not true. He loved her more than words can say and his heart knew she did the same. Their love was no dalliance. No, it was
"True love"
He looked up. How did she guess?
Pansy started to laugh loudly.
"You were thinking loud again. I do not like that we have to pretend neither, Ron. You know that. That's why Harry has to win, that's why I want to help you, the Order. So we could stop pretending. So I could kiss you and no Draco, so I could walk hand in hand with you not him, to stop sneaking around just for one kiss."
Tears began to fall from her eyes, despite her laughing earlier."I am so tired of pretending. So tired" she whispered and hugged him tightly, like he was her life line. And in a way he was, just like she was his.
He kissed her hair and gently wiped her tears. He hated seeing so vulnerable, she always looked so strong. But that was part of the pretending as well. He was the only one that got to see the real her. Hermione had seen just glimpses of who Pansy really was. And it had been enough to convince her.
She had agreed to pretend that she had a thing for him, as he had been pretending before. Everything was part of the plan, a plan you wouldn't expect from Ronald Weasley right?
"I know love. We both are. But I have faith in Harry. I know he with mine and Hermione's help can win. He will defeat the Dark Lord. Voldie pants will die."
"Ron!" she exclaimed, but she was chuckling. It seemed that it worked. She was smiling again.
She shook her head at him, a small smile gracing her face.
"You always know how to light me up."
She put her head on his shoulder.
"My parents want to write a marriage contract between me and Draco in a year."
He nodded. He had expected that; he inhaled a deeply
"Marry me"
Pansy tilted her head.
"What?!"
"That way they cannot take you away from me. You are mine. I cannot loose you. Not to Malfoy. Please, I...I love you. And I will love you until the day I die. I promise this to you. I will be yours, I am yours. My heart, you had stolen it a long time ago. You can do anything you wish with it. But this is the only way."
She started crying, but they were happy tears.
"And your family? Are we going to continue to pretend? No, do not answer that. it's just wishful thinking. I know we have to wait until the war is over."
"I wish too. But not now."
She is accepting. In her own way.
"So the wedding?" she asked with a smile, putting the sadness aside: she was going to marry the man she loved, she was going to become Mrs. Pansy Weasley.
"This holiday. You could stay for Christmas and we could sneak around." He glanced at the his watch."Tomorrow, sweetheart. Sleep well" he said getting up.
"That late?"
He smiled sadly. He hated to be separated from her. But they had no choice, so she hugged him once more and left.
He looked after her, then at the unopened box in his hand. Tomorrow night, he thought.
But until then, more pretending. More hurting for both of them. And more questions.
What will the morning bring?
