Whenever You Smile

The way you move is like a full on rainstorm
And I'm a house of cards
You say my name for the first time, baby, and I
Fall in love in an empty bar

She sat quietly in the bar for the third night consecutively, once again drowning herself in the drinks that she had ordered to "keep coming" and hoping that her memories would somehow melt away. Everything haunted her, and she had no relief or escape from them; there was no where to run, and no where to hide.

The particular bar she had been at the past few nights wasn't what could be termed a 'classy' bar. In fact, it was the exact opposite. It was shady, shifty and rickety; Pansy was nearly sure that if she stomped down on the floorboards hard enough that her foot would simply go right through.

But it was sparse - she ran into no one she knew in this bar. No one that knew of her past and could throw her those dirty looks she had been forced to become accustomed to. Except for tonight.

Pansy couldn't be sure, but with a few furtive glances, she came to the conclusion that her original hunch was correct. He had entered with the aura of power, reeking authority and yet such sorrow, and there was a brooding expression on his face - one that gave the impression that he was constantly deep in thought about something or other. God knew he had enough to think about.

Regardless, Pansy was enraptured. He was handsome, brooding and had a mysterious and tragic air about him that she was undeniably attracted to.

And you stood there in front of me just
Close enough to touch
Close enough to hope you couldn't see
What I was thinking of

It was three drinks later that he next approached the bar. Not that she had been keeping track. He coincidentally took the seat next to her, not sparing her a single glimpse as he ordered his poison. As Pansy drank him in, she debated whether or not to say something to him. He could be someone who she could relate to, who she could understand and vice versa. No one so far had understood the pain and pressure she went through, no one understood the glares and the fame - nobody as much as him. The war had left terrible scars on everyone, but some ran deeper and there was no coming back from the memories that tormented not only your dreams, but also your reality.

"Parkinson." He nodded politely, finally acknowledging her presence.

"Potter.. Drinking the night away?"

"That's the plan."

"They say misery loves company." She replied, the corner of her mouth lifting a little - it was as much as she could manage.

His green eyes penetrated every thought and emotion running through her in that moment, simultaneously spreading an electricity throughout her body and giving her the sensation of being alive for a moment. God, she hadn't felt that in so long.

He smiled, more out of politeness over anything, "You want to put that theory to the test then?"

Drop everything now
Meet me in the pouring rain
Kiss me on the sidewalk
Take away the pain

So it began. Every night after work they went to that bar, sat chatting and drinking throughout the night. Sometimes they'd talk about trivial topics, such as the Ministry and the Daily Prophet's latest story, and other times he'd reveal a little something about himself. A little something that he was telling no one else. She craved those moments, the times when he bared his soul for her to see, and she reciprocated in whatever way she could. He had been damaged in the war, and everyone knew it - but now she felt as if she were the one that had to help him.

She was undeniably attracted to him - and several of the nights, they went dancing, a tradition that had somehow sprung out of a drunken night that led to some serious dancing. He had been clumsy at first, but once she had directed him a little, it became something they could unleash all their anger, stress, worry and emotions in general into. It became a passionate dance of who could keep up, of who could let go.

'Cause I see, sparks fly whenever you smile
Get me with those green eyes, baby
As the lights go down
Something that'll haunt me when you're not around

It was one particular night, after two months of them dancing and drinking, that she realised it. They weren't drinking - after a conversation about alcoholism and how they were bordering on it - but chatting amicably. He was animatedly retelling a story from his job, of how some trainee had completely confused an order, and she was listening as closely as she could. It was so difficult though, because when he smiled, he blinded her. She was powerless to deny its call, and all attention focused solely on the brilliance of the gleaming teeth and flawless mouth of Harry Potter.

His eyes outshone them though - the sparkling green that came alight when he laughed, that glittered with mirth when she told a funny story, or when he remembered something humorous. Those green eyes enraptured her and she felt like she could gaze into them forever.

He finished the story, and Pansy laughed with him, despite not hearing one word of the story - but he was too caught up in it to realise. As she watched him throw his head back and laugh, and feel herself smile, Pansy came to a conclusion with a start.

She was in love with Harry Potter.

'Cause I see, sparks fly whenever you smile
So reach out open handed
And lead me out to that floor
Well, I don't need more paper lanterns.

She continued staring at him, her mouth now agape as she processed this information. Pansy almost wasn't sure how to act now, should she continue as if she hadn't had that life-altering epiphany? He had been her only source of relief, comfort and happiness the past few weeks, he was all she had - and there wasn't even a definite term to call him. Was he a friend? An acquaintance? She wasn't Hermione. No matter how much she was there for him, no matter the words she said, the actions she showed; she would never be Hermione. That was the problem - no one could be. She was gone, and now Harry had fallen apart. Ron and him completely fell apart and Harry disengaged from everyone he used to know. Could she help him though? Heal him?

Harry pulled her up from her chair then, proclaiming to like the song playing. She wanted to deny, to firmly state that she was not in the mood for dancing - but those green eyes.

He twirled her deftly as they walked onto the floor, smiling down at her from his towering height. He was physically imposing, that much was sure, but she could never be afraid of someone so kind and gentle. Someone who had touched her heart like no other living person had been able to - she had never felt emotions that gave her a strong reaction. She had always been impassive.

It was a strange feeling, and though she had the urge to flee from it as fast as she could - she also knew that she would be the most stupid woman on the planet to walk away from Harry Potter without knowing what could be.

Gonna strike this match tonight
Lead me up the staircase
Won't you whisper soft and slow
I'd love to hate it
But you make it like a fireworks show

He still had that vulnerability and power to him, that tragic hero element that made him so attractive in the first place - but she had seen him laugh, smile and relax… She had seem him as himself, and it was so much more than the dark persona he wore when he went out in public.

The song turned slow, and he held her close. She could feel her heart begin to thud. Her palms turn sweaty. Her breath become uneven. Her eyes darting.

Pansy lay her head on his shoulder and he stroked her hair softly. She wanted him to know that she wasn't going to run, that she wasn't going to disappear.

"Harry," She whispered, though it was hard for him to hear over the music.

He pulled back and rose his brows in question, she gestured for him to come closer. "I think we need to talk," She shouted over the music.

He nodded, and pointed to the door leading to outside.

Drop everything now
Meet me in the pouring rain
Kiss me on the sidewalk
Take away the pain

It was raining. Lashing, pouring, bucketing pellets of water hit the ground ferociously, splashing unceremoniously and fading into the ground. The air smelt of dampness and there was a rainy haze clouding the streets; not a soul was to be seen walking along the path or going in or out of the bars and shops. She supposed it was too late for shops though.

"What is it? The place closes soon, so we can either go in for another drink or song or-"

"Harry, we have to stop this." Pansy blurted out. That was not how she wanted to express herself.

He did a double take, "What? Why?"

"Because I can't do it. I can't be your consolation prize - I can't be your fallback plan, your comfort and your confidante only when you're feeling down. I need to feel like more than a consolation prize. I'm - I'm just not able to go on knowing that I'm just - just a meantime thing for you while its so much more for me, and I'm not used to these feelings, and I'm not used to being around people like you, but -"

"Shut up, Pansy." He kissed her then. Pansy Parkinson wondered if she had ever really been kissed before.

'Cause I see, sparks fly whenever you smile.

I wrote this a long time ago, but was never sure on posting it. I've decided to go ahead and post it, hopefully people will enjoy it. It's completely AU of course... but it would be an interesting world to explore. However, this is a one-shot and that's it. Song "sparks fly" belongs to Taylor Swift and HP to JK. Reviews are loved muchly!

Thanks,
xCNx