Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Author's Note: Written for writhen heart courtesy of the Gift-Giving Extravaganza 2014. Michy, I really hope you enjoy this! When I saw 'Pansy/anybody in her year' as one of your choices, I knew I wanted to try my hand at PansyTheodore, and I'm glad I did - this was really fun to write.
Pansy sometimes wonders what is going through Theodore Nott's mind.
He's always on the edge of their little cluster of like-minded Slytherins, there but not really there, an outcast and one of them at the same time. He barely says a word, but Pansy knows that his silence does not come from stupidity like Crabbe and Goyle. She sits near enough to him in most of their classes to see that he never gets anything less than an A.
He's a mystery, a riddle, an enigma, and Pansy is nothing if not curious.
o0o0o0o
It's fifth year.
Pansy's the female Slytherin prefect, and honestly, she's not surprised. She's the best choice out of the girls in her dorm. Millicent Bulstrode is far too unintelligent, Tracey Davis doesn't have the balls to be in authority over anybody, and Daphne Greengrass and Lilith Moon don't behave well enough to tell other students anything about following the rules.
Draco is the other Slytherin prefect. Pansy supposes that it's nice - her parents expect her to pursue a relationship with him, because it's an excellent match - but part of her wishes that it was Theodore. Merlin, she wants to know what he's thinking all of those times that he's there, saying nothing but still actively listening.
She makes it her mission to know him - and when Pansy has a mission, everybody better get the hell out of her way or she'll ram right through them on her journey to the truth.
o0o0o0o
He studies alone in the library some nights, and after supper one January night, Pansy leaves the rest of the Slytherins and finds her way to the library.
She sees the Mudblood Granger roll her eyes a bit as Pansy enters, and although any other night she would antagonize Granger, she's not in the mood right now. She walks past her silently, saying nothing as she searches the rows for Theodore Nott. He's sitting in the back, near the Restricted Section. The lighting is worse back here, dim enough that reading is slightly uncomfortable, but it's more private, further away from Madam Pince's nosy, hawklike gaze.
Pansy stands next to Theodore's table, waiting for him to say something, even a simple "What do you want?"
He stays silent, and finally she sits down, sliding into the chair across from him. He finally looks over the edge of his book, his dark eyes taking her in. "Parkinson," he says finally, a quick nod the only greeting.
"What are you reading?" she asks, peering at the cover of the book.
He sets the book on the table, with just enough attitude to show that he's not thrilled at the interruption. "It's a Defense Against the Dark Arts book," he says. "A supplement, I guess."
Pansy frowns. "Why?"
Theodore raises his eyebrows. "You mean you don't realize how incredibly boring and useless our official Defense book is?"
Pansy shrugs. There are certain things about Professor Umbridge's class she enjoys - namely, the professor's blatant disregard for Harry Potter - but it's certainly not an interesting book. "I guess it is," she says, "but why are you bothering to read something else? Professor Umbridge said she would prepare us for OWLs."
"Forgive me if I don't trust the word of a person who talks to us like we're five years old," Theodore says. "Besides, I don't only want to be prepared for OWLs. Her education isn't going to help anybody prepare for sixth-year Defense classes, particularly if we happen to luck out with a competent teacher next year."
Pansy stifles a snort. The cycle of Defense teachers - the 'curse' - has become a running joke among many Hogwarts students, to the point that some of them place bets on what the next year's teacher is going to be like - male, female, old, young, competent, awful. "You've got a point," Pansy concedes.
Theodore smiles - it's only a small smile, and it lasts for barely two seconds, but it's a smile nonetheless, and Pansy can't help but wonder why she didn't bother talking to him sooner.
o0o0o0o
Meeting Theodore in the library is not a daily occurrence, but it happens more often than Pansy might admit.
He's interesting company. He's bluntly honest, and it's refreshing to talk to a person who doesn't shy away from revealing themselves. Theodore isn't a chatterbox, by any means, and many times Pansy still has to ask questions, lead the conversation, but he doesn't seem to mind talking to her anymore. After the first night, he puts his book down as soon as she shows up, and sometimes she can even catch a quick smile on his face as she sits down near him.
He shows her a few Defense books, as well. It's not tutoring - Pansy would never let herself be tutored by somebody, especially in a subject she only half-cares about - but whenever he reads something particularly interesting, he'll point it out to her. In the spring, Pansy uses her status as a prefect and an Inquisitorial Squad member to get a pass into the Restricted Section from Umbridge, and she and Theodore slip inside and pick out even more intriguing books.
She doesn't tell anybody about that, of course - she's no Ravenclaw, and she doesn't want to get a reputation as being particularly studious - but secretly, she enjoys it more than she would ever admit.
o0o0o0o
"So," Daphne says on the way home from Hogwarts at the end of that year, "is Theodore Nott any good?"
Pansy stares at her for a second. "Excuse me?"
Daphne idly examines one manicured nail. "You and he are both missing from the common room at least one night a week. I'm not stupid."
"I'm not shagging him," Pansy says. "Contrary to what you might think, not everything is about sex."
Daphne laughs. "It's not shameful, Pansy - you can admit it. It's just us girls in here. Come on - give us the details."
"Theodore is kind of hot," Lilith Moon pipes up, nibbling at the head of a Chocolate Frog. "He's got that whole tall, dark, and mysterious thing going for him."
Pansy sighs. "I'm not shagging Theodore Nott," she repeats. "You know that Draco and I are beginning to have...a thing." She can't think of a more eloquent way to put it, because she's not even sure what to call it. They've flirted a few times, and they took the last Hogsmeade trip of the year together, but Pansy can't bring herself to have legitimate feelings for him anymore. She fancied him when she was younger, but now, she looks at him and sees nothing more than a friend.
"That never stopped me." Daphne smirks, and Pansy rolls her eyes.
She doesn't fancy Theodore, and she definitely doesn't want to shag him - right?
o0o0o0o
All summer, Theodore doesn't write.
She writes him a few times, but her owls return empty-taloned, and she grows angrier as each week passes. They met at the library for nearly six months at Hogwarts - surely that constitutes a friendship close enough for them to send letters to one another during the summer.
She sees him at King's Cross, and he tries to come up to her, looking more apologetic than she's ever seen him, but she shoves right by him and spends the entire train ride in the company of Draco, fawning over him and eagerly taking in every word he says.
It feels like revenge, and it's sweet.
o0o0o0o
Pansy avoids Theodore as much as she can for the first few days of classes.
To her, his lack of return letters over the summer signaled the end of their friendship. It would have been one thing if the owls returned to her with her letters, unopened - then, maybe, she could believe that they had not been able to find his house, or that he had been away on holiday the entire time she had been sending him mail. The owls had returned without her letters, however; it meant that he had indeed received them, but couldn't be bothered to respond.
It isn't easy to avoid somebody who's in the same house and year, but Pansy manages to avoid talking to him, surrounding herself with Daphne and Lilith and draping herself over Draco at every possible opportunity. She sometimes feels Theodore's eyes on her, but she doesn't let herself maintain eye contact with him.
She holds her head high and ignores him, ignores the friendship that they cultivated (and ignores the fact that the loss of Theodore hurts like a hole in the chest).
o0o0o0o
Classes are over for the day. Pansy packs up her bag and leaves the classroom, wandering through the halls and searching for Daphne or Lilith. Of course, finding two people in a seven-story castle is harder than it looks, and she's just about to turn around and head to the common room when somebody forcefully guides her into a darkened classroom and slams the door behind them before she can make a move.
The light comes on, and Pansy sees Theodore, standing in front of her. He's grown a bit over the summer, filled out more; Lilith's comment about Theodore being 'tall, dark, and handsome' comes back to Pansy's mind, and she forces the thought away, letting her anger at him wash away everything else. "What the hell are you doing?" she says, her hand hovering above her wand, ready to hex him.
"I'm sorry," he says, looking as apologetic as he had on the King's Cross platform. "I just - I needed to explain myself, Pansy."
"No, you don't," she snaps. "I understand - you don't want to be friends anymore. That's fine. I don't give a damn." Even through the rage, it still pains her to say those words - those lies. She cares - more than she would ever want to admit to anybody, including herself.
"You wrote me five times," Theodore says. "And I didn't respond. I know that's rude - hell, you have a right to be angry, but it wasn't my fault. I didn't read a single one of those letters-"
"Thanks," Pansy says. "I really wanted to hear that." She goes to shove past him, but he holds out his hand.
"Please, Pansy, let me finish. I didn't read the letters because my father took them and tore them up before I could. Believe me, I wanted to read them, and I was so - I was pissed off every single time he did it."
Pansy frowns. "Why would he do that? I'd understand if it was some Mudblood writing you, but he can't complain about my blood status - I'm as pureblood as you are, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with our friendship."
"He didn't have a problem with you, specifically," Theodore says. "If I had received any other letters over the holiday, he would have gotten rid of them, too. He was punishing me. I -" He shakes his head, looking down, and when he looks up again there's so much pain in his eyes that Pansy takes a step back.
"Why?" she asks quietly. "What did you do?"
"I was stupid," Theodore says. "I made a...remark, and he got offended. It was tactless. It just slipped from my mouth, and I've been regretting it for the past three months." He rubs his shoulder.
"What did you say to him?" Pansy knows she's prying, but she can't bring herself to care. All of this started because she was curious about Theodore Nott, and that curiosity hasn't abated too much since the beginning of their friendship. He's still a mystery - just a mystery that's willing to talk a bit more.
Theodore pauses, staring at the ground, and for a moment Pansy thinks she's pushed too far. Was this it? Was this the moment where he would turn and walk out the door, telling her that she had no business sticking her nose into his home life? She stays silent, unwilling to be the first to speak and break the moment; his face is too unreadable for her to get a glimpse into his thoughts and feelings. Finally he looks up, and his voice is quiet when he speaks.
"My father said he was in a relationship," Theodore says. "I asked if he was going to kill this woman like he killed my mother."
"Merlin's balls," Pansy says, stunned. She stares at him, openmouthed. "Are you serious?"
"Completely."
She steps forward and pulls him into a hug. He freezes for a second, and then hugs her back, resting his chin on top of her head. She can feel him shaking a little, and she pulls away, looking up at him. "I'm so, so sorry," she says.
"I was nine," Theodore says. "I saw it happen. They were arguing - about everything, like always - and he cursed her. She -"
"You don't have to say it, if you don't want to."
"No, I -" He pauses. "You're the first person I've talked to about this. I don't think I could - I couldn't say this to anybody else. It would feel weird, but with you...it's not."
"Thank you," Pansy says.
"My mother was thrown against the wall," he says after a moment. "She hit her head and passed out. My father went over to her, and...finished her off while I sat at the dining room table, just a couple meters away. I could see everything." He blinks a couple of times, as though he's trying to stop himself from crying. "He told me that if I ever told anybody, he would put me through hell. And Merlin, I believed him - I still believe him."
"But you told me." Pansy's voice is quiet.
"Well, I trust you," Theodore says, and they fall back into one another's arms.
o0o0o0o
As the year goes on, Draco withdraws from the others; he's sullen and moody, and nothing Pansy asks can convince him to spill details of what is making him that way. She spends less and less time with him and more and more time with Theodore, and Draco doesn't seem to care one way or another. His mind is elsewhere, she knows, and she lets him have his privacy.
Draco is a riddle, a mystery, an enigma, but Pansy can't bring herself to care anymore.
o0o0o0o
In May, Pansy hands Theodore a letter.
"What is this?" he asks, and his fingers slowly unfold it. Pansy already knows what it says; she's read it over and over until it's practically memorized.
Dear Pansy,
Of course you can invite your friend Theodore Nott over during the summer holidays! The Notts are a respectable family, and Theodore sounds like a lovely boy. We have three spare bedrooms, so he can stay as long as he wants to. If he happens to be here at the end of summer, we can bring him to Diagon Alley when we take you to get supplies for your seventh year - it would be no trouble.
-Your loving parents
"You can stay for the whole summer, if you'd like," Pansy says. "You're seventeen - your father doesn't have the legal right to insist that you come home with him anymore." She looks at him, hopeful, imploring, as he slowly sets the letter down on the table. They're in the library, at that back table near the Restricted Section where everything began.
He leans over and kisses her, his hands tangling in her hair, her hands pulling him closer.
As soon as they pull apart, he whispers, "Thank you," so quietly she can barely hear it.
o0o0o0o
Pansy sometimes wonders what is going through Theodore Nott's mind.
And when she asks, he tells her.
