Author's note: This is an angsty little fic I dreamt up after finding out that a girl who bullied me in school had recently married. I remember in an interview somewhere that JR Rowling said she didn't want Pansy to have a happy life because she basically embodied every girl who'd been mean to her at school, so I'm afraid not even the idea is mine.
Disclaimer: Everything you see below belongs to JK Rowling. I own nothing.
This is for everyone who's ever had to put up with grief from a bully like Pansy.
It was nineteen years, three months and four days since the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione was taking Rosie to Diagon Alley to buy her new school equipment. Rose had been looking forward to starting school all summer – well, for the last eleven years, to be honest. Hugo had been taken on a surprise camping trip for the weekend by his daddy for some "father-son bonding", too young to realise this was actually a plot cooked up between his parents to distract him from jealousy of his sister's new school supplies.
Hermione was quite enjoying spending the weekend alone with her daughter, if she was honest with herself. She and Rose had a lot in common, such as their love of books, and Hermione knew that she would feel Rose's absence keenly when the girl left for Hogwarts. Well, she had this last chance to spend time with Rose before she left for school and she was going to make the most of it. While weaving her way through the crowd in Diagon Alley on the bright August afernoon, she decided to buy Rose an owl as a good luck present.
Hermione had left Rose in Ollivander's and was making her way up to Eyelops' Owl Emporium to buy her daughter a present, when she spotted the other woman through the throng of shoppers. Unfortunately for Hermione, the other woman also spotted her.
"Hermione?" she shrieked, pushing her way through the crowd to reach the bushy-haired witch. Hermione tensed. She was used to being recognised by people in the street fairly frequently, not only because of her fame in the Wizarding World, but also by the many friends and allies she had made in her thirty-seven years. This woman, however, was neither a friend nor a stranger and certainly not someone Hermione wanted to be acquainted with.
"Pansy," she replied stiffly, forcing a polite smile. She took in Pansy's appearance. The last nineteen years had not been kind to Pansy; her black robes were frayed at the hems, her once sleek, dark hair was now lustreless and peppered with grey and her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She still, however, bore a resemblance to a pug.
"Hermione, how good to see you," she continued, although her tone indicated otherwise. Her eyes gave Hermione a silent once-over, making the former Gryffindor student feel as self-conscious as she had been when she was eleven and the subject of many of Pansy's taunts. Mentally, Hermione tried to calm herself. All right, so she had gained a little weight over the years and had crows' feet in the corners of her eyes, but she still had no grey hair and she kept her self clean and presentable. It was silly of her to let a bully from the past bring back all these insecurities, just by looking at her.
"It's been...years, since I last saw you."
"Yes…nineteen years, in fact, since you chose to run and hide while your schoolmates fought to bring down some of the darkest wizards of the last century." Hermione was surprised at herself. She tried to force herself to be polite to her old enemy, but ultimately cold and uncaring. Pansy had done and said horrible things in the past that Hermione wasn't willing to forgive.
Pansy squirmed uncomfortably.
"Hermione, no-one regrets more than I-"
"Somehow I don't believe that," Hermione interrupted. She knew it was rude of her to speak to Pansy like this but she was not going to just stand there in silence while this- this slippery snake of a woman tried to excuse her past actions.
Pansy looked as though she'd swallowed a wasp and tried to change the subject.
"I see you're married now," she remarked, gesturing to the ring on Hermione's left hand.
"Oh, yes," Hermione smiled in spite of her resolution not to be nice to this woman. "I've been blessed with two lovely children too." What was wrong with her? Her resolution to be cold and indifferent was crumbling. Trying to steer the conversation away from herself, she added, "Do you have any family?"
"Oh, no," smiled the other woman brightly – a little too brightly. "It's just me living on my own these days. I never found a man good enough!" Her laughter was a high tinkling and sounded hollow to Hermione. Hermione asked about her work. "Oh, I'm not working, these days," said Pansy. "People don't want to associate with people like – y'know…"
Hermione did know. Anti-Muggle families like the Parkinsons were mostly shunned these days as the magical community tried to shake off its past and move into a future where Muggleborn wizards were seen as equals. Employers were probably a little prejudiced against Pansy because of her family's openly anti-Muggleborn actions during Voldemort's year in power. She gave Pansy what she hoped was a sympathetic smile and started to turn towards the shop.
"Well, I really must go…"
Suddenly Pansy reached out and grabbed the other witch's arm.
"Hermione, I just want you to know, not a day goes by when I don't regret what I did all those years ago. I was young and stupid, and brought up in a family where that sort of attitude was expected."
Hermione frowned as she regarded the desperate witch before her. Pansy Parkinson, she realised, was not someone to be hated. Instead Hermione pitied her. She, Hermione, had it all; a loving family, high-paying job at the Ministry of Magic, not to mention the admiration of most of the Wizarding World… while Pansy apparently had nothing. She was a nobody. She looked into Pansy's face and tried to find the regret. Instead all she met were two dark eyes and a smile that didn't quite show teeth. No, thought Hermione. She was being far too generous. Pansy's circumstances were a direct result of choices she had willingly made in her youth. Hermione shook her head.
"No, Pansy, that just doesn't cut it," she replied waspishly. "Ron had a pure-blood family, yet somehow he made all the right choices. Heck, Sirius Black came from a Muggle-hating, aristocratic family but he still saw Voldemort's actions as the injustices they were," she continued, ignoring Pansy's flinch at Voldemort's name. "But you, you told me when I was thirteen that you hoped a basilisk would kill me! You treated everyone of my parentage like dirt. You wanted to hand Harry over to Voldemort, rather than having the courage to make a stand for what was right." The other woman lowered her eyes; Hermione guessed she was probably staring at the thin, white scar on her throat from Bellatrix Lestrange's knife. "Do I believe people change? Yes. Do I believe you've changed? No. I'm sorry, Pansy, but I am not and never will be your friend." She pulled her arm out of Pansy's grip.
At that moment Rose came skipping up to her mother, clutching a long, thin box containing her new wand.
"Mummy, I found you!" She smiled up at her mummy, then paused as she realised they weren't alone. "How do you do?" she asked, offering her hand to the stranger. "My name is Rose."
Hermione was always very proud of her daughter's manners. She was thankful that Rose had not inherited Ron's lack of tact when it came to meeting strangers.
The dark-haired woman stared, mouth slightly open, at the young girl before her. She did not shake the offered hand. Hermione saw her take in the bushy, red hair and freckled limbs, and Pansy's lip began to curl into a slight sneer as she slotted the pieces together in her mind. Clearly the leopard had not changed its spots, after all.
"Weasley," she whispered under her breath.
Rose was confused. Why wasn't the lady shaking her hand? Was it something she said? She lowered her hand and frowned up at Mummy, who was now glaring at the stranger with a look that would have scared Daddy and Uncle Harry silly.
"Come on, Rosie," Hermione said, walking towards the Owl Emporium, "let's get you an owl." She turned her back on the other woman and Rosie followed, glancing over her shoulder at Pansy as she went.
"Mummy, who was that lady?" she asked, slipping her hand into her mother's.
"That was nobody, Darling," replied her mummy, "Nobody at all."