This story is written for Round 7 of QLFC. My ship was S.S Snitch and Bitch, and I've written Draco/Pansy in a platonic relationship.
This is also written for the Months of the Year Competition/Challenge for the month of July. I chose to write about a faithful companion. Prompts are at the bottom.
This story is dedicated to theresnomeaning (Maria) as part of the Epic Exchange Forum.
By Your Side
Everything was as she remembered it to be. The sprawling grounds, the majestic castle, the vast lake, the beckoning forest—they were familiar sights that filled her with an aching sense of nostalgia. Everywhere she looked, she saw students milling about—relaxing under the shade of a tree, chasing each other down the grassy slopes, enjoying a romantic stroll along the lakeside. It made her want to run away and never look back.
"Miss Parkinson?"
Pansy smiled at the redhead seated behind the information desk, the Head Girl badge pinned to her blue and bronze tie shimmering in the afternoon sun. The girl extended her hand towards the stone arch beside them and, smiling back, said, "To the right of the statue is the memorial, to the left is the museum. Please take your time to look around; we're open until sun-down."
"Thank you." She picked up a brochure from the table, wondering if the girl had been instructed to repeat those exact same words to everyone who came by.
As she made her way to the arch, Pansy heard the ginger say, "Welcome to the opening of the Hogwarts Memorial Museum," and rolled her eyes. She came to stand in front of the statue of the four founders of Hogwarts, wondering why they had chosen to install that particular piece there.
"History repeats itself."
Hiding her surprise at the familiar voice, she glanced sideways to see a striking blond, his platinum hair slicked back and his gypsum-coloured robes tailored to fit his slender figure perfectly. He turned to smile at her, his silver-grey eyes shimmering with mirth, and she felt a long-forgotten sense of yearning flutter to life deep within her.
"I'm glad you could make it," he said, taking her hand in his and bringing her knuckles to his mouth in the practiced manner of a gentleman.
"How long has it been?" she asked as she watched his lips brush against her skin, feeling a tingle run down her spine.
"Too long," he replied, letting go of her hand.
Ignoring the pang in her chest, she met his gaze with a smile of her own. "You look well."
"As do you." Someone called for him just then, and he turned away, giving her a moment to drink in the gentle curve of his jawline, the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, the almost unnoticeable strands of grey in his immaculate hair—they were all so familiar, yet so different. She was reminded, yet again, of the years that had passed.
"I'm sorry." His voice drew her back to the present, and he offered her an apologetic smile. "It seems that every time I approach someone I'm called away."
She inclined her head. "Understandable, considering you're the man of the hour."
"Why don't you walk around for a bit while I take care of this... situation?" he said as he took a step away. "I promise I'll come find you."
She nodded and watched him go. "It was good seeing you, Draco," she exclaimed suddenly, earning them both a number of curious looks, and froze, embarrassed by her outburst.
Draco only smiled, his eyes glittering with a tenderness she had never seen in them before. "You too, Pansy. I really am glad you came."
Her smile widened, and she unconsciously tucked a strand of her styled hair behind her ear as she watched him disappear around a corner. Turning to the doorway, she inhaled deeply. Now, then. Let's get this over with.
-oOo-
She was following behind a small group as she toured the museum, an enthusiastic student acting as their guide, pointing out every exhibit and detailing its history to them. Every now and again, her eyes would flicker around, looking for familiar faces, and she would tense if she spotted someone she knew.
There was a reason Pansy had chosen to come this late; she knew most would visit in the morning and during the day. It worked perfectly for someone like her, who didn't want to run into people and reminisce about the years gone by.
I'm not here to make friends or small talk, Pansy thought as she paused beside a particular display. Eyeing her reflection in the mirror, she frowned at the rosy colour of her cheeks and the kohl that made her eyes look big and beady, chastising herself for trying so hard. She was reminded of a memory from a long, long time ago, when a certain ten-year-old blond had admonished her for the same.
..
"What's that on your mouth?" was the first thing Draco asked a ten-year-old Pansy the moment she set foot in Malfoy Manor for his birthday party.
"Lipstick. Mother said I was old enough to dress like a lady," she replied with her nose in the air, awfully pleased with her appearance.
She had spent nearly two hours getting her long hair styled into ringlets, putting on makeup, and picking out the perfect outfit for Draco. Twirling on the spot so he would see the full extent of her magnificence, she was disappointed when he simply gave her a quick once-over and walked away.
"What, don't you think I look like a lady?" she asked with a huff as she fell into step beside him.
"Your hair looks ugly and your face looks like you've been crying," Draco said as he entered the dining room, leaving a wide-eyed, slack-jawed Pansy standing alone in the empty hallway, feeling utterly foolish.
She returned home that day teary-eyed and decided that Draco was never going to find someone as pretty and perfect as her to be his bride. One year later, when she arrived at his eleventh birthday party with short, straight hair, a simple dress and no makeup on, Draco looked at her and said, "You look different."
"Well, I'm sorry that I didn't waste time dressing up for you," Pansy snapped, to which Draco shrugged and grinned.
"Why're you sorry? I think you look prettier the way you always are."
After that, Pansy had made sure that her hair always fell down to her chin and that even if she did wear makeup, it was subtle and simple.
-oOo-
Pansy walked by a miniature sculpture of the ruins of Hogwarts after the war when she caught a glimpse of a familiar face from the corner of her eye. Stopping abruptly, she backtracked and peered around the corner. True to what she had seen, there stood Harry Potter, talking animatedly to none other than Draco.
Bristling at the sight, which brought forth a horde of unwanted memories, she turned to stare at a painting of people fleeing from a burning village, letting her mind wander.
..
"Who does he think he is?" Draco said for the dozenth time as he paced up and down the length of the empty classroom. "Treating me like a fool."
"Let it go, Draco," Pansy said with a sigh. "You don't want to be friends with someone who chooses a Weasel over you. Anyway, are you coming home during the Christmas holidays? Mum wants to know."
"That's exactly my point!" Draco snapped, ignoring Pansy's question. "Who chooses to be friends with a Weasley over a Malfoy?"
"Harry Potter, apparently," she replied, annoyed. Just how much longer was he going to ignore her for that stupid git? "Look, Draco, don't you think it's about time you stop griping about some idiot boy with a scar and start considering other things?"
"Like what?"
Like me, she wanted to say, but instead, asked, "What did your father say about the broom you wanted?"
Draco scoffed. "Said he'll think about it. He probably doesn't think I deserve it, seeing as how I couldn't even successfully follow one instruction of his."
"Well, either way, you're still going to be the only first year to have his own broom."
Draco brightened at that, and Pansy was glad that, at long last, she needn't have to listen to him go on and on about the Boy Who Lived. As much as she found Draco's sensitive ego endearing, she didn't like being ignored.
Of course, her happiness was short-lived, because Harry Potter soon became the youngest student to play on the school Quidditch team in a hundred years, and all Pansy heard for the rest of the term was Draco whining about how he had a better broom at home and would 'show Potter next year'.
-oOo-
Pansy scoffed at the memory as she eyed the next painting. It was of the Chamber of Secrets and was rather disturbing. She could still faintly make out Draco's voice; he sounded like he was laughing at something Potter said, and that made her bristle yet again. As she listened to the familiar laughter, she was taken back to their second year.
..
"The Heir of Slytherin?" Draco asked Pansy.
"Yes."
"Me?"
"Yes."
She expected him to laugh and tell her she was barmy. Instead, he smirked and said, "Makes sense."
"This isn't a game, Draco!" Pansy exclaimed. "Everybody in school thinks it's you who opened the Chamber of Secrets!"
He shrugged, nonchalant. "Let them think what they want to." Then, after a moment: "Does Potter think so too?"
Again with what Potter thinks, she thought angrily. "I've been telling anyone that brings it up that they're off their rocker, so you better do the same if you don't want to get into trouble," she said, ignoring his question.
Draco scoffed. "What trouble? It's not like I'm actually the heir."
"They don't know that!"
"And neither does Potter."
"Argh, you are so—" she threw her hands in the air and stormed off. "See if I worry about an idiot like you again!"
"How dare you speak to the Heir of Slytherin in that manner?" Draco called after her with a laugh, and she strode out of the common room, feeling utterly ridiculous for having bothered about him when all he cared about was a way to get that blasted Potter's attention.
-oOo-
Although it wasn't necessarily a pleasant memory, she remembered it fondly. Pansy had fawned over Draco and worried about him endlessly through their years at Hogwarts, and Draco had enjoyed every moment of it. She remembered every time he had gotten injured playing Quidditch, or that one time with that horrible Hippogriff in their third year, when she would make a big deal of his wounds just to placate his injured pride.
It's too bad he never thought to do the same for me, her mind supplied helpfully as she eyed a painting of a graveyard. There was an eerie-looking statue looming over Potter and the Dark Lord—who were caught in a brilliant display created by their wands—with someone she assumed to be a dead Cedric Diggory and the Tri-Wizard Cup in the background.
..
"How do I look?" she asked, striking a pose in front of Draco.
"Ravishing," he said with a grin as he held his elbow out. "Shall we take our leave, milady?"
She giggled as she hooked her arm through his, and they made their way to the Great Hall. The Yule Ball was about to begin, and just inside the door, they spotted a nervous-looking Longbottom with the Weaslette.
"I'm sorry if I step on you by accident," Longbottom was telling Weasley.
"I'm sure you'll be fine, Neville; you've been practicing all week."
Pansy and Draco exchanged a look before he said to her in a loud, dramatic voice, "I apologise beforehand if I end up spinning you in too perfect a circle."
"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage a lift, too. After all, you've only been practicing for ten years."
They smirked at the Gryffindor duo as they passed by, and Draco said, "Nice shoes, Longbottom," which Pansy followed up with, "Nice feet, Weasley. Hope to see them again."
Chortling as they took their place in the front row in-between Crabbe and Goyle, they watched the champions enter. When Potter looked their way, Draco elbowed Goyle, and the bloke flashed his 'Potter sucks' badge from inside his breast pocket. The bespectacled boy went red in the face, much to Draco's delight, and shot him a glare before turning away.
Draco was in an excellent mood the rest of the evening, especially when Potter and whichever Patil twin took to the dance floor, because it gave him the perfect opportunity to make fun of Potter. At one point that night, when Draco went off to get them drinks and left her by herself, someone from Durmstrang approached her. He was very insistent that she dance with him, refusing her refusal, and it was Draco who came to her rescue by telling the fellow, "She's with me, so bugger off and find someone else to pester."
After that, he proceeded to tell her about how he'd seen Potter and Weasley's dates abandon them. Although she'd hoped he would pay her more attention than talk about Potter all night, the fact that he remained with her the entire time pleased her immensely.
-oOo-
"There you are!"
Pansy turned to see Draco walk towards her with a smile, followed by Potter, who had a somewhat bemused expression on his face.
"You remember Harry Potter, don't you?" Draco said in a teasing tone as he motioned to the man beside him.
"How could I forget," Pansy replied as she held out her hand. She expected Potter to kiss it as Draco had, but he shook it once instead, making her raise her eyebrows.
"And you remember Pansy Parkinson, Harry?"
Potter said something to her, but her attention was focused on Draco. When did Potter become Harry?
Her bewilderment must have shown on her face because Draco cleared his throat, his cheeks tingeing pink, and said, "The museum was Harry's idea. He took the initiative. I only helped him see it through."
"Of course." She turned to Potter and tried not to let her discomfort show. "Pleasure seeing you again."
"The pleasure's mine," Potter replied, bowing his head, and they smiled awkwardly at each other.
"Well, I promised Pansy I would walk around with her," Draco said, placing a hand on the small of her back and sending a jolt up her spine.
She thought that was their cue to excuse themselves, but Draco was staring intently at Potter, as though trying to communicate something to him. Potter, much to Pansy's chagrin, seemed to understand what Draco was trying to convey and smiled.
"I'll be perfectly fine without you sticking to me all the time, Draco."
Pansy's breath caught in her throat at hearing Potter address Draco by his first name, and she wondered in alarm when and how these two had gotten so close. Was it because of all the time they spent on the museum together?
As she let Draco guide her out, her mind went back to a moment after the war, when she had been desperately searching for him in the carnage.
..
"Draco!" she yelled as she spotted the frazzled blond seated beside his mother in the shadow of a destroyed wall, away from prying eyes.
Both Malfoys looked up, and Draco's expression turned to one of relief as Pansy flung herself at him, a sob escaping her lips. "Oh, you're alive, you're alive," she wept, clinging onto his slender neck for dear life.
They held each other for a long moment, and she revelled in the warmth of his embrace. Draco pulled back after a time, a ghost of a smile on his face. "I'm alive. And so are you."
Narcissa smiled at Pansy then—a warm, motherly smile that brought more tears to Pansy's eyes—and reached over to hug her. "Thank you," she whispered in Pansy's ear, "for always being by Draco's side." When Pansy began to disagree, Narcissa added, "even if not physically."
The older witch pulled back, and then, spotting her husband, walked away, leaving the two alone. "I'm glad you're OK," Pansy told Draco as she dried her eyes.
"Me too." He pulled her against him, and the two sat there for a long time, Pansy's head on his shoulder. She had come to treasure every little moment she got to spend with Draco, especially over the last few months.
"I think," Draco finally said, "that I've learned my lesson."
Pansy pulled away and looked at him, taking in his mussed hair, the black and red splotches on his face, his ripped and tattered clothes, but most of all the light shining in his eyes. Draco turned to fix his clear eyes on her, and she felt the heaviness in her heart dissipate.
"I'm not going to let the second chance I've been given go to waste."
-oOo-
He made sure of that by becoming a Mind Healer and helping people through their war trauma.
"Pansy?"
She shook herself out of her daze and smiled up at Draco. "Sorry, I got lost in thought for a moment there."
"I understand." He looked around him, as though seeing it all for the first time. "I feel the same way every time I step in here."
"It was a rather brave thing to do," she said, spotting Potter across the room.
"What has he ever done that wasn't brave," Draco murmured.
She glanced up to see the fond smile on his face. There was an air of gentleness about him now that had never been as obvious before. Turning back to look at Potter, she wondered if it was because of him.
Well, she thought as Potter looked up and smiled their way, I suppose I can let Potter have Draco if it makes him this happy.
Pansy peeked at Draco's face again and saw that he was beaming. She chuckled to herself, realising that even until the very end, Draco's attention was focused completely on his Chosen One. When her fingers accidentally brushed against Draco's, he took her hand in his, making her smile widen.
As long as I'm the one who gets to be by his side.
MotY Prompts:
1. (word) warmth
2. (emotion) sentimentality [all the nostalgia]
3. (colour) red
6. (word) initiative
7. (plot point) A character does something to boost their own reputation, money or power. [when Pansy dresses up to get Draco's attention both in the present and in the past]
9. (personality trait/word) guide
10. (word) holiday
The headcanon for the museum is taken from my Drarry multi-year Iridescent Lies, so if you're interested then do check it out! Thank you for reading!
Arty xx