Author's Note:
Round 1: Not My OTP
Team: Pride of Portree
Position: Beater 2
NOTP written for Beater 1: Pansy/Hermione
Prompts used: 5. (dialogue) "I'm happier than I've ever been before."
9. (song) dollhouse.
Word Count: 2292 excluding Author's Note
Nice Girls Don't
Pansy Parkinson had always been a daddy's girl. As the youngest member of a wealthy and influential family, she was doted upon and treated like a little princess and she loved it. She loved being the youngest, the one who got all the best. But as she grew older, she began to discover just how much of that was merely a facade.
Pansy's mother excelled at pretending everything was perfect between herself and her husband. She was so good at this charade that it took Pansy years to realize that her dear Daddy was sleeping around and Mummy did her best not to know. But Pansy was a proper pure-blooded lady. And proper ladies didn't speak of such things.
Smile for the picture, Pansy, and if you pretend hard enough, you'll have the perfect family.
The first time that Pansy mentioned offhandedly to her mother that she thought a provocatively-dressed girl she saw while they were shopping at Diagon Alley looked rather pretty there must have been something in the way she said it, because her mum pulled her aside, looked her straight in the eye and whispered: "My dear, girls don't say such things about other girls. Think of our reputation, won't you be a good sister? "
Because looking at a girl like that was not part of the pure-blood way. Because Pansy's brother needed to have a good reputation in the eyes of society to get to that position in the Ministry. Because Pansy's father was hoping to negotiate a match for his daughter with the Malfoy family, and Malfoys didn't take damaged goods. So Pansy put her head down and pushed those thoughts away like was expected of her.
Then she turned eleven and time came for Hogwarts. For just a moment life was fine. Here it was easy to pretend that her family was perfect and, after meeting the boy her father had chosen for her, Pansy had hope. Maybe she could love that boy one day. Maybe she could be his dutiful wife and, in doing so be the perfect daughter to her Daddy.
That was until she saw her from across the Great Hall as she waddled up to try on the Sorting Hat. She was short and clumsy and looked ridiculous and yet for a moment, Pansy held onto the wild hope that the girl would go into Slytherin. She had never heard that surname before, but she hoped against hope that the girl would be a pure-blood or a half-blood at least. Not that it mattered.
Nice girls didn't look at other girls like that, even if her hair is huge and bushy, like the mane of a lion and her eyes are so eager and happy. Nice girls married the boys their parents chose for them. And anyway, it was all a moot point. The Sorting Hat yelled out "Gryffindor!" and the rest didn't matter, did it? She shrugged and held her nose up high, waiting for the Hat to send her to her rightful place. To the House of her future husband. The only house that was proper.
It was merely the first week of classes and Pansy already knew she had been lied to. She was sitting in Potions class when she realised that she had been deceived in the most terrible way. Mudbloods were not supposed to be like that. They were supposed to be stupid and useless and ugly. They were not supposed to be smart and pretty, and they most certainly weren't supposed to make Pansy fill with this odd swell of happiness in her chest that she couldn't quite make sense of…
As the…Gryffindor…brewed the most perfect potion, Pansy felt a surge of anger. Anger at her parents. Anger at her. At that…girl. How dare she challenge her world like that? How dare she make Daddy a liar? This was her fault. She was an anomaly. She should not exist. She should know her place like all other Mudbloods; filthy and untalented. With her fists clenched, Pansy felt hatred swell in her chest in the stead of the happiness.
A hate that she could not smother.
As Pansy discovered more and more about her family's flaws, the Mudblood seemed to get only more perfect as time went on. She was smarter, brighter. She had a smile that would steal a thousand hearts in a flash. Pansy meanwhile was merely bitter.
Daddy's with some slut again and when I turn my back on Mummy, she pulls out her flask. Throw on your dress and put on your dollface. Pretend everything's all right, don't let anyone look too close…
Try as she might, Pansy could not hide the pug-like features or the envy in her heart. It was something that no amount of makeup could cover up, and no amount of sweet words could mask.
It was fourth year and she was a bully. Pansy knew she was a bully, somewhere deep inside, but why did others deserve to be happy when she could not? She was growing into a woman, yet everything was wrong. Draco did not like her. Why would he, when Daphne was beautiful and Tracey was graceful and Millicent was funny? And what was Pansy? Alone. She was alone and ugly on the inside and the outside.
The Mudblood meanwhile…she was everything Pansy should have been. She was bushy-haired and had teeth too big for her mouth, but the boys didn't seem to care. They didn't seem to understand that there were girls who were so much more worthy than that Gryffindor. Viktor Krum himself had asked Granger to the Yule Ball, and while Draco did ask Pansy and hope swelled in her chest yet again…when his lips touched hers under the mistletoe…well, it wasn't like the stories, was it? No fireworks, no tingling. She bet the Mudblood could kiss. Kissing her would probably feel like an entire symphony when their lips touched. So soft and gentle...Pansy longed to run her long fingers through her Mudblood's curly brown hair…NO. Nice girls did not think of beautiful girls while in the arms of their future fiance. After the party she got back at the Mudblood by slipping that Skeeter woman a few quotes. The world deserved to know what her kind was really like.
Fifth year was the year of the Slytherins again. Umbridge was a bitch but Pansy knew a lot about flattery and saying the right things. She made it first to prefect along with Draco and then to the Inquisitorial Squad. She had never been happier. She took the opportunity to mock and harass every single one of those Gryffindor fools as much as she could. Finally, at least, the whole Wizarding World saw them for what Pure-bloods had always known them to be. They were pompous liars and cowards who had merely managed to wrap Dumbledore, the old fool, around their fingers. But not Pansy. Pansy knew. Pansy knew everything about faking and nothing was ever as perfect as the picture made it seem.
Of course that still didn't break up the trio and Pansy could not understand the pangs of jealousy she got every time they stood up for each other. Both of those boys fighting for a Mudblood and she for them. No one had ever stood up for Pansy like that, not one of the well-bred pure-blood boys.
When Voldemort's return was revealed, the Gryffindors were proven right all over again. Pansy saw how that mudblood bitch strutted after her little escapade at the Ministry. Vindicated and proud, how dare she? Did she not realise what that meant for her? She'd be killed. She'd have to learn her place like all Mudbloods would. She would get hurt…Oh gods, she'd get hurt...
Sixth year arrived and everything was unravelling. Pansy's parents were nervous; they hardly even kept up appearances anymore. Hogwarts wasn't much better. Draco sulked and Pansy could no longer lie to herself that she'd ever be happy with him as her other half. He was too similar to her. Too much a bully, not enough kindness. Not enough caring. He barely had time for her. He was secretive, angry, and tired. Pansy spent her time sulking and thinking darkly about the future. She wanted to curl up and cry at her pain, at everything she was and had become.
Pansy was a bully. She was no longer a nice girl. And if she wasn't a nice girl…well…nice girls went to Heaven but bad girls? They went wherever the hell they wanted. So maybe…just maybe there would be nothing stopping her from at least tasting the summer on the Mudblood's lips before she committed herself to her husband. Everything was going to hell anyway and her parents would probably never have found out.
She wished that Mud-Hermione would notice. Notice that she was no longer "good." She didn't go out of her way to say mean stuff. She pretended they didn't exist. She was different, as close to kind as she'd ever been. But not to her. To that Gryffindor girl she was still the same. She was still the bully. And all her measures were too little, too late. Too late in the face of a fast-approaching war…
Dumbledore died and all hell broke loose. He was gone and Voldemort was back and Pansy hated everything. She hated the light for having lost and the dark for having won. She hated her parents for their beliefs and she hated herself for her own beliefs. She saw the Muggle-borns and Muggles try to hide and get away only to be caught, tortured, and killed. Pansy was a bully but she was not heartless and, suddenly, her heart bled for them all. Yet most of all it bled for that one Muggle-born hiding somewhere in the world who was fighting alongside her friends to set things right.
The Slytherin common room had been declared a place where no one took a side and where there was almost no one to trust. Draco was absent and moody. Daphne and Astoria trusted nobody but each other, hiding everything from the rest of the world. All the curtains had closed, truth hidden from outsiders. So Pansy was left alone with her nightmares. Sometimes she dreamt of the Dark Lord, sometimes of screaming children. But most nights Pansy dreamt of her. She screamed her name in her sleep. Hermione, the brightest witch of our age…Then she'd wake up covered in cold sweat and pray that no one had heard her words.
Please don't let them look through the curtains. Please don't let them witness my pain and suffering.
Harry Potter was in the castle. He had come to face Voldemort. He'd come to be their redemption. This was her chance to prove that she was not like her parents. To prove to the light side…to prove to Hermione…but instead she called out to them to capture Potter and deliver him to the waiting Dark Lord. Pansy was a coward and as she listened to the castle shake above her from the power of spells being cast, she hated herself for it.
The war was over and everyone wanted to rebuild. Pansy wanted to rebuild, too. She was going to make right the wrongs she had committed. She was determined to be better than what the war had brought out in her. She was amongst the first to sign up for the search for all the Muggle-born students gone missing during the war. She went to retrieve the scared children and help them get back on their feet.
She set up a fund from her own inheritance, money she had received from the passing of a grandparent, to care for the orphans the war had created. And when she passed Hermione Granger in the lobby of the Ministry on her way to confirm plans for an orphanage,the woman actually smiled at her…she felt her chest swell with hope in a way that it had never done before. Maybe there was still a chance.
Pansy sat across from Hermione at meetings and couldn't help but wonder how the war had managed to make the woman more beautiful, despite giving her so many scars. The marks of battle had merely made Hermione into a warrior; a knight from the old stories. Sometimes, when Pansy allowed her mind to wander, she would see herself as the damsel...
But whenever she asked Hermione out for a few drinks, she always declined politely. She refrained from small talk. She was guarded around Pansy like she was with no one else. Oh, how desperately Pansy wished she could make Hermione laugh like Harry or Ron could. If only she would give Pansy a chance…
The ceremony was lavish. Draco and his new wife Astoria sat in the front row with most of the remaining pure-blooded families. Pansy wore a white gown more beautiful than any she'd ever imagined existed. Her Daddy walked her down the aisle and she carried a smile as her spouse-to-be slipped a ring on her finger. Her voice shook just a little as she read her vows.
Throw on your dress and put on your doll face…Smile for the pictures. They're blinded by your jewelry. They'll never see past the glitter.
A shiver ran down her spine as her husband's lips brushed softly against her ear.
"Darling, are you happy?"
"I'm happier than I've ever been before!" she replied as she turned to look into his dark eyes. And maybe…just maybe one day that might be true. Maybe one day she could love Blaise the way she could have loved Hermione. But now, Pansy was a Daddy's girl. And Daddy needed a good match.