If that wasn't enough…
And if that was not enough to make one mad (and it was), he had the audacity to wink rakishly at her over his shoulder as he stepped off the lift before her.
"Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," the familiar woman's voice announced.
Pansy, clutching a file on Loch Ness, stepped off the now-empty lift and followed him at a cautious distance down the carpeted corridor.
As he reached for the door leading to the beast division, she called out, "Charlie Weasley!"
He turned, grinning. "Back for more?"
"No, unfortunately, to get to my office I must pass yours." She looked distastefully past him into a large office plastered with posters of dragons and hippogriffs. "I just wanted to tell you that if you ever dare kiss me again I know curses that will mutilate that pretty face of yours."
She stalked past him and she thought she heard him chuckle and say under his breath, "So you think I'm pretty, do you?"
Entering her office, she flipped the file open, but spared it only the barest of glimpses. The Office of Misinformation had not been busy lately. Her last assignment had been months ago. Muggles in Cheshire had captured some "walking sticks" (Bowtruckles) by accident when chopping firewood. They had even gone on the "tellie" to display the "twig people" to the world.
Pansy whiled away her eight hours staring at photos of Nessie, filing her nails, and making a coffee-run every half-hour.
Three minutes until five and she could no longer sit at her desk. All the coffee had made her jittery and she twitched her purse onto her shoulder and jerked the door open.
Charlie was waiting at the lift for her.
"There you are, Parkinson!" He peered closely at her as she spasmodically jabbed at the lift button with a finger, missed, and tried again. "Are you okay? You seem tense?"
"No, no, I'm fine, just caffeinated."
He laughed, though she doubted he got the joke.
They crowded onto a lift already full with home-bound witches and wizards who reluctantly made room for them. They stood, arms touching. He looked down at the top of her head, watching the lights reflected as golden orbs in her dark shining hair.
When the doors to the lift clattered open at the atrium they were carried out and over to the fireplaces on a tide of people. Charlie tried to catch her before she reached a fireplace, but her walking was quick and erratic and he wondered just exactly what she meant by "caffeinated."
She could not decide between the aqua and the crimson.
She would look fabulous in the crimson with her dark hair and eyes, but she had a clutch that would just precisely match the aqua. Hell, as long as the ministry was paying her to just sit at her desk she would purchase both sets of robes.
She looked up from her Modern Witch catalog at a knock on her door. She had been having a good day. She was wearing her favorite pair of pumps and her very best lipstick. She had a pastrami for lunch and a raspberry lemonade with just a splash of vodka. It had been a perfectly Weasley-free day.
"Yes?" she called, casting a longing glance at a jewelry catalog on the edge of her desk.
It was Charlie Weasley, as charmingly self-assured as ever. He swaggered over to stand before her desk silently, expectantly. She wondered if this cockiness was an act reserved just for her.
"What?" she asked politely.
"I just wanted to let you know that I'm free this Saturday."
She blinked. "Oh, well…"
"Before you turn me down with some fake excuse, I already know that you do not work on Saturday. And it seems you have plenty of time to do other stuff here." He looked pointedly at her catalogs, the nail polish on her desk, and a romance novel.
"Um…Saturday?" she stalled.
"So that's a yes? Great! Where do you live? I'll pick you up at six."
She heard herself rattle off the address to her flat. Watched Charlie close the door as he left the office. Shaking herself, she looked at the clock: two hours to go.
She picked up a quill and began to fill out the mail-order form for her new robes.
She only had one earring on, but he had roses.
"You're early." She accused.
"Better than late," he replied, thrusting the roses at her.
"A real gentleman would not arrive before a lady is finished dressing." She put the roses in a vase and put on her second earring.
He appraised her, from her strappy silver heels, to her short emerald dress, to her glossy hair, falling neatly to her waist. "You look entirely dressed to me. I'll be sure to come earlier next time."
"What makes you think there will be a next time?"
"Let's not fight before the date even starts. By the way, nice place you have." He looked nonchalantly around the posh flat, particularly admiring the large mirror on the opposite wall.
"Stop staring at yourself in the mirror." Pansy giggled at him, fetching her coat from the closet.
Enchanted by her laugh, he grinned suggestively at his reflection and ran his fingers jauntily through his hair. He succeeded: she giggled again.
"You really ought to laugh more," he told her as she double checked to make sure the door to her flat was securely locked. "You have a very pretty laugh. It's very…sexy."
She smiled, but refrained from laughing. "So, where are we going?"
"Well, you see…I've never been on a date with someone like you before, so I didn't know where you would want to go…"
"Someone like me?"
"You know…a person like you…a-a-"
"Girl?"
"Of course not! All my dates have been with girls. It's just that, well, they have all been Gryffindor…and only one of them has been a Pureblood and her family wasn't like yours."
"What's wrong with my family?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Nothing…just…come on! I mean, your relatives were You-Know-Who supporters…and you're just…" he gestured wildly at the sky. "You're just really rich and uppity and all that rubbish."
Pansy, instead of getting angry at him, leaned closer. "Want to know a secret? I've never been out with a Gryffindor either. I've heard they're bad kissers."
Relieved, he solemnly replied, "What you've heard is a lie. Us Gryffindors happen to very excellent kissers. We happen to be excellent everything."
Slytherin pride welling-up, she said, "Really? As far as I can tell, they're not very good dates. So, where are we going?"
"Somewhere fancy and romantic, I promise. We'll Apparate to Diagon Alley over here." He led her down an empty side-road. "See you in five." He turned abruptly on his heel and Pansy, glancing furtively around, followed suit.
She was a dark splotch against a bright red and freckled background.
Pansy was overwhelmed and could not tell if it was only fifteen Weasleys or fifty. She had hoped for a more sedate visit with Charlie's parents at the Burrow.
Charlie had disappeared some minutes ago and she went to the kitchen in search of him. She was relieved to find him sitting at the table with only three or four others with him. The door flew open as she refilled her teacup and Pansy looked up to see a bespectacled redhead enter the kitchen.
Charlie jumped to his feet to make the introduction. "This is my brother…"
"Another?" she blurted out thoughtlessly.
"Another what?" he asked, puzzled.
"Never mind,"
"Anyway, this is my brother Percy. He graduated four years ahead of you."
Percy shook her hand enthusiastically. "Wonderful to meet the lovely Miss Parkinson after having heard so much about her," Percy said in what Pansy felt was an all-too-pompous tone.
Charlie pulled a seat out for her at the table and she sat down to the scrutinizing stares of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron and Ginny Weasley. She felt a little nauseous under their calculating gazes, but looked indifferently back at them, face perfectly neutral, maybe even slightly bored.
"Quiet bunch in here," George said, strolling in from the den. He winked at Pansy and Charlie. "If you think this is awkward, wait until you take Charlie to meet your family."
George chuckled, but Pansy blanched.
"That will not be awkward," Pansy disagreed, "it will be positively deadly."
The most impressive room was the round ballroom paved with rose-colored marble. But there was also an oak table as long as the House tables at Hogwarts, a courtyard containing a fountain of cobras reared up to strike, gushing water from their mouths and the tips of their tails, and numerous dens which she referred to as the "ivory parlor" and the "blue drawing room" and so on until he was hopelessly lost.
"Damn, Pansy, don't you think your folks could have shared some of their money?"
"Well, they donate and stuff. They give money to St. Mungo's and they sponsor a Wizarding school in Liberia."
"I'm sure your family is wonderful. And this is a very beautiful house."
Pansy smiled. "You'll hate my family if you ever meet them, but this house will be mine…ours… one day…that is, if you want it."
Charlie looked around, overwhelmed. "But what would we do with it?"
Pansy frowned. "Do? There's plenty to do. There's the library and the billiards room and the pool and the bar."
"Pool? Bar? Merlin, this house is enormous."
"Well, we have it all to ourselves. My parents are out and I told the House-Elves to leave us alone. What do you want to do? Did you bring your swimsuit?"
"No,"
"Well, that's okay. Let me get mine on and while you wait, help yourself to the sideboard."
Charlie helped himself to a few drinks, so that when she returned, clad in her swimsuit, he wolf whistled and when she led him to the pool he was only marginally impressed by its size.
She dived directly into the pool and bobbed back up next to one of the palm trees that were magically growing in the pool, waiting for him to join her.
"I don't have a swimsuit."
"I know. Just take your clothes off. No one else is here."
"You want me to swim naked?"
"Come on, Charlie Weasley, I know you've gone skinny dipping before!"
"Not in front of a girl."
Pansy giggled. "Now really, I promise I won't look."
But she did look, making him very uncomfortable as he removed his clothing. He jumped in next to her, the water pleasantly warm. He did a few laps, especially enjoying splashing Pansy.
"Okay," he said, "This is awkward."
"How so?" Pansy asked.
"I'm naked! I feel completely vulnerable!"
"You shouldn't. You look good."
Fighting a grin, he glared at her. "This was your plan all along, wasn't it? You just wanted to get me naked."
"Yes, I've taken advantage of you." She said sarcastically. "If you want, I'll take my swimsuit off."
"That would make me feel better." Charlie nodded innocently.
Before Pansy could undo her top, a cold voice interrupted Charlie's immodest contemplation.
"What's going on?" Mr. Parkinson asked, Mrs. Parkinson at his elbow.
Pansy ceased trying to take off her swimsuit and Charlie hastily covered himself.
"Oh, Daddy, I didn't know you would be home so early. This is…um…Charlie Weasley, my…uh…boyfriend."
"And why is he naked in my pool?"
"Believe me, sir, this isn't the way I planned our first meeting."
"I can't believe that snobby bitch!"
"Mom," Charlie reprimanded. "I hope you're not talking about Mrs. Parkinson that way."
"Oh, I'm sure she is." Pansy said mildly. "'Snobby Bitch' sounds just like my mother."
"Oh, dear," Molly said hugging her. "The stress of this wedding has got us all flustered and we're just saying things that we don't mean. After tomorrow, everything will be perfect. I'll make sure it is." Mrs. Weasley hurried off to count tablecloths.
"Mom is very excited." Charlie told Pansy. "Since your parents are paying this is going to be the nicest wedding that any of her kids are going to have. I mean, Bill and Fleur's was nice, but not like this. And you know George and Angelina eloped. Ron will get married at the Burrow and so will Ginny. Nothing big for either of them, but she can be as extravagant as she wants this time."
They were staying at a picturesque country inn near the vineyard where they were to get married and had rented a romantic cottage for their honeymoon. Everything was set-up according to the Parkinson's money, the Weasley's traditions, and Pansy's inclination. The single flaw was that Mr. Parkinson was uncertain if he wanted to walk Pansy down the aisle or not. His hatred for the Weasleys, and Charlie in particular, was warring with his affection for his daughter.
"Charles," Mr. Parkison beckoned him outside.
Charlie opened his mouth to comment on the weather or the vineyard's wonderful wine, keeping the conversation cordial and neutral as Pansy had instructed him to do so, but he cut across him.
"Against my better judgment, I am going to allow my daughter to marry you tomorrow. I just want you to keep in mind that she is far too good for you and you better never treat her with anything but respect and consideration"
Charlie wanted to explain that he would rather die than hurt her, that she was everything that there was, and that if he even only looked at her askance Pansy would kick his ass without any assistance, but she poked her head out the door and asked, "Daddy, are you hurting him?"
"No, sweetheart, just making sure he knows that I could if I wanted to."
"Don't be silly, Daddy, I can take care of him myself."
"I know you can. I have never seen anyone cast a better hex or throw a harder punch."
"So, will you be walking me down the aisle tomorrow?"
"Of course," he waited until Pansy was out of earshot, then turned back to Charlie. "Son, and I call you that with many misgivings, when you say your vows tomorrow, I want you to honor them and to take them seriously, because they are going to affect the rest of your life, particularly the 'til death do us part' bit."
Charlie would have dismissed this talk as a fatherly thing, recalling Mr. Delacour lecturing Bill with a similar speech, but Mr. Parkinson felt strongly about three things: his love for his daughter, his hatred of Charlie, and that a man must always live by his promises.
And if Charlie was not much mistaken, the part about killing him was a promise.
The envelope lay on the table, eagerly awaited and positively terrifying.
"It doesn't matter, does it?" Charlie asked her.
They had both agreed that it did not, but still…
"My little boy…" Pansy murmured, gingerly breaking the sill to the letter.
"So is he in Slytherin or Gryffindor?" Their daughter demanded, having stopped eating her breakfast long enough to hear what House her oldest sibling was in.
Pansy opened the letter and began to read aloud to her husband, who had his fingers crossed beneath the table.
"Mum and Dad,
I know you want to know what House I'm in. I bet it has been driving you guys crazy. I was even surprised when that Hat sorted me. Who would have thought? I was sorted into Hufflepuff!"
"Hufflepuff?" Charlie and Pansy gasped.
Pansy quickly returned to the letter.
"Kidding! I'm sure that freaked you guys out alright! Seriously, I was sorted into Slytherin. Don't worry Dad, I'm not your only kid, so maybe one of us will end up in Gryffindor. I bet Mum is really happy right now. I'm the first Weasley to be in Slytherin.
Love you guys."
Pansy grinned triumphantly.
Charlie, looking disappointed, said, "I guess that's better than Hufflepuff."
Pansy kissed the top of his head. "At least he has your sense of humor."
"If the Sorting Hat put him there, then I'm sure that's where he belongs. In Slytherin. Like how you belong with me."
"It was meant to be."