Three Hot Teas and a Biscuit is a work of fanfiction and I cannot be held liable for any resemblance to real people. The world is J.K. Rowlings but I do maintain the rights to the words that I use to play in it.

The setting of this story is drawn from my Draco/Hermione AU which can be found on my Deviantart account, and soon to be here. When I can work up the motivation and find the time.

Rating: T

part 1/4

Happy reading!

Three Hot Teas and a Biscuit

Ron Weasley, upon being dumped by the self proclaimed love of his life Hermione Granger, proceeded to go on a three day bender and date a succession of witches in a whirlwind previously unseen in the wizarding world. Pansy Parkinson merely snorted, shook her head, and affirmed that she knew that he was a shameless ponce all along and avoided him like the plague as she had in all of her years at Hogwarts. When he broke up with his girlfriend loudly in the courtyard of Diagon Alley, Pansy declared that he was a bad seed, and proceeded to spread nasty rumors that he had contracted some sort of debilitating disease from the bint that made his nethers twist up in an unseemly fashion. Her friends called her brazen and Draco called her adorable. Pansy promptly punched Draco in the nose. Ron continued to date wholly unsuitable women for a variance of reasons one of which was that the girls he chose were extremely close in looks to his 'lost love' or attractive or both and he was making a name for himself that made the young witches giggle as he winked at them. Pansy was patently disgusted and vocally disapproved whenever he was around, making up fictitious lies that would have been damaging to his reputation if anyone would ever have believed them.

So when an exceptionally drunk Ron Weasley landed in her red silk covered lap at a social function that Pansy believed he had no right being at, but had been invited to because at one point he may have assisted in saving the world just a little bit and irritatingly enough had become fabulously wealthy because of it, Pansy decided to take action. Of course, Pansy taking action does not involve any sort of movement at all, but more a vicious tounge lashing that was succinct and to the point, explaining all of her hatred of him in a single sentence.

"You are a red haired, unattractive gorilla who comes from a poor upbringing." And then, because Pansy believed in being exceptionally truthful and clear, "I despise you and everything that you stand for and do not understand how you have people that like you."

Ron, for his part, merely smiled up at her because all he could gather from deep inside his alcoholic daze was that a girl with an extremely interesting nose was speaking to him. Pansy sighed, and, completely ignoring the fact that she massively disliked the man, knew that when you are that drunk, having a soft lap to rest on, could make a dreadful evening that much better and that he was not sober enough to recognize her or remember her face. She also relied on the fact that if or when the others at the party informed him that he had rested on Pansy Parkinson's voluptuous thighs, she could take the mickey out of him for the rest of his life and also declare that she was the better person for giving over on her dislike in a moment of humanity therefore causing him severe mental anguish in the future. That was the Slytherin in her, always thinking of the big picture.

"There he is!" The shout was relieved and came from the last place Pansy expected. Hermione Granger herself came flying out of the shadows as a burst of golden light and bushy hair as Draco loomed behind her in his tuxedo, giving Pansy a helpless look. Pansy felt no pity as she felt that he brought this on himself, and had told him so, at length, back when he was still pursuing the bint. Hermione stopped dead, her eyebrow wandering up to her hairline. "On...Pansy?"

"I don't know how he got there and disavow any willingness to participate in this behavior." Pansy said smartly and promptly. She surreptitiously tried to shove the boy off of her lap but it was like trying to shove over a redwood tree log, theoretically it should be possible, but he was just too Merlin cursed heavy. She merely shoved his fat head a little and he groaned. To her horror, he then began to snuggle into her thighs, stroking her knees and murmuring something into the patch of skin near his lips as they passed over the silk. She looked up at Draco, stricken with terror, who finally ceased to find this amusing and hoisted the larger man up. Hermione flittered around the two men, wringing her hands.

"Oh dear, I have to stay here, and so does Draco, is there anyway you could take him home?" Hermione asked, looking up at Pansy appealingly. Pansy considered shouting at the woman that she had a lovely boyfriend, would she please stop trying to seduce a fellow woman when she realized that Hermione wasn't trying to seduce her that was just the way that she was. She gave her best friend such a look full of pity for, at this rate, his sanity was likely to be reduced to a state of sitting in a chair and stroking kittens for the rest of his life. He didn't do well with being managed. Pansy tried to look more conflicted about this than she really was, considering the blackmail opportunities that presented themselves with this single night and Hermione gave a snort. "Pansy, don't think for one moment that I don't know that you are planning on doing something dreadful to him and taking pictures, but at least I can trust you to get him home safe, if wholly humiliated."

"How could you ever think that would be so?" Pansy asked, her horror turning and lending itself a mocking edge. True, the thought had crossed her mind, but such a plebeian answer to a humiliation such as she had just suffered was not acceptable and she needed something much more calculating. She placed her hands together and tapped the pads of her fingers together, staring at the man hanging around Draco's neck. "Hmmmmm."

"I'll take that as a yes. Draco, please help her." Hermione ordered in that bossy way of hers that made Draco roll his eyes but comply. Pansy, as she accepted Ron's arm around her shoulder, and his head rolling against her neck, sniggered and ducked as Draco tried to harm her in some way or another while he avoided dropping Ron so he would not incur the wrath of Hermione. Pansy rolled her eyes, and, in a swish of skirts, apparated herself to her home, barely managing to stagger to catch her balance before falling on Ron, on the sofa. She lay on him for a few moments, her head pillowed on his chest before daring to move as she was unsure her knees would support her. She apparently waited a few moments too long as his fuzzy head realized that there was a woman on top of him and he clasped his arms around her tightly.

"Well, hello there." He murmured into her ear, his lips tickling the fine hairs as his breath stirred across them.

"Sexual assault!" Pansy shrieked and, no longer tired and struggling with the larger man's arms looped around her waist, contemplated kneeing him somewhere painful but she was pretty sure that that was covered under Hermione's no harming policy and she didn't want to others to think that it was the only way she could come up with to get away. Instead, she bit down, chomping through thin fabric to get a good hunk of skin. He yelped and jumped up, leaving her to fall on the ground with a crash.

"What the-?!" Rubbed his eyes and then continued on in a scandalized voice, "Pansy?"

"Ow, you rotter! Yes it is me." Now one may think that Pansy would insult Ron until the sun set at the end of the day, but she wouldn't dare do it to his face, but, as previously mentioned, she had always been very clear and direct. "I was taking you home as per Hemione's orders and Draco's puppy eyes and you attempt to assault me for my troubles. You miserable piece of refuse."

"What?" Ron rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand. His brain was trying to work through all of what happened. He paled, taking a moment to consider his ruffled clothes, hers dissarranged and her hair falling from where it was held in place by golden clips. "Oh bollocks did I-?"

"What, you oversized gorilla?"

"Did I take-advantage- of you?" His voice was a whisper and Pansy stared at Ron's face as he openly flushed red. She let her lips twist into a satisfied smirk and stood up to bat her eyes at him.

"Why, Ron, wasn't it good for you too, sweetheart?" He immediately went fuschia, then purple, then very, very green. Clearly he was easily manipulated when he was drunk. Pansy couldn't keep it together and fell back onto the couch, laughing, Ron, by increments, relaxed. "Ron, you are so prejudiced against me, there is no way you would ever kiss me, no matter how drunk you are."

"You can't take the moral high ground, Pansy." Ron said wearily, putting his head in his hands. Pansy stiffened with affront.

"Why not? Because I'm a Slytherin?" Pansy shouted, waving her arms like a windmill as she turned a dull red, fueling her anger with his hot air. "At least I have never killed or permanently disfigured anyone!"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ron asked.

"The name Marietta Edgecomb mean anything to you?" Pansy stood up again to approach the same level of height as Ron, but considering that he was about a good six inches taller than her even in her three inch heels, it was not exceptionally effective. "She cannot leave without wrapping her face, those pustules that Hermione gave her will never heal. She will live with that curse for the rest of her life.

"Marietta?" Ron asked, his brows crunching together, trying to place the name.

"Remember way back to our school days. Your silly Dumbledore's Army. She told Umbrage because she was scared and breaking the rules. She did what she thought was right, obeying authority and now she can't leave the house without a scarf at least. " Ron stared at Pansy and not just because her chest was heaving with the venom in her voice. "You three ruined a girl's life when she was a child because you thought you were right."

"I-I didn't know."

"You didn't care." Pansy spat it out, and Ron flinched. "You were the 'Golden Trio'; everyone's heros. You haven't ever had to deal with the complete ostracization of your peers due to your parents politics."

"What about what you all did to my family?" Ron shouted.

"That was when we were children, we are supposed to be grown up now." Pansy snorted with derision, making quite clear her stance on that issue in relation to him. "And how does that even remotely make it acceptable? You get a little of your own back by making it so that I cannot even get a job in England, not to mention London? Does that make you happy?"

"What are you on about?" Ron asked quarrelsomely.

"Your lovely brother, the one half of the horrid twins that lost his ear but kept his life-" Pansy knew from Ron's face as it contorted with rage and sorrow that if she were a man, he would have reached over and punched her in the face, but she wholeheartedly thought it was a truth he needed to hear. "He went around to every business that I applied to and spread lies. He refused to deal with my section until I was sacked because they needed his product more than they needed me. I have to move to France to get a job, where no one has heard of Voldemort, Harry Potter, or the war."

"George wouldn't do something like that, I'm sure." Ron scoffed.

"Open your eyes, Ron. He and his brother shoved Montague into a broken Vanishing closet. It was tantamount to murder for docking points. Points! When they fished him out, he was almost starved to death and frozen. His parents took him out of school and he didn't come back the next year either."

"He was evil!"

"He was following the rules and your brothers tried to kill him."

"He was enforcing bad rules, he should have known there would have been consequences!"

"Oh lovely, that makes it all right to kill him!" Pansy rolled her eyes. She held out her hands palm up and then clasped them to her chest. "Moral high ground, you are mine."

"How can you even say that? You wanted to let them kill Harry." Ron accused as Pansy went very, very still.

"You may have stood up against the Dark Lord many times in the past, but the rest of us were merely children. Harry Potter has some freakish ability to survive. Had we given him over in the beginning, I do not see how that would have done anything but save lives. I leave you with a single name. Colin Creevy." Pansy felt that glowing feeling of triumph as Ron's face crumpled. She felt a little bad about plucking that emotional string, but it proved her point that he was looking at the entire situation out of the eyes of a single lensed child. He turned away sharply, but not before she saw the telltale hitch . When she spoke, it was sharper than she meant with disbelief. "Are you...crying?"

"No!" He replied just as scathingly as he rubbed his fists in his eyes quickly and blinking furiously. Pansy was appalled for two reasons, one being that she didn't actually mean to make him cry, and the second, it was because he was crying. She swiftly came to the conclusion that he was drunker than Merlin's liver, as he was blubbering like walrus, rather like Malfoy had a tendency to after he'd had more than a few. Pansy never had high opinions of Malfoy's snuffling either, being of the opinion that one should cry and get it over with, forgetting the silly concept of manly pride.

"Look, I think I took that one a bit far, and it really isn't fair to get into a moral argument when you are three sheets to the wind." Though, at this point, Pansy was keen to swear that it was more like four or five, but she wasn't going to much blame him as the schnapps were delicious and after the first one, your tongue went numb and you couldn't taste the alcohol. Ron wouldn't be the only one waking up with an aching head, as Pansy thought she was the only sober one at the party. This theory would also explain why Hermione thought that sending Ron home with her was a good plan. "How about I make you a cuppa and then take you home."

"A cup of tea sounds fantastic." Ron answered, relieved that she wasn't going to make fun of him nor push the issue. Pansy shrugged.

"Regular, all right?"

"Spiffing." Ron said, attempting a weak smile.

"Well, take a seat." She motioned towards her kitchen set which had two chairs, one slightly used and one so new that it squeaked. Ron took the squeaky seat.

There was awkward silence as the water heated, until Ron broke it.

"You looked lovely tonight." He mentioned it lightly, resorting back to his fail safe with girls which was to compliment them, as he traced the grain of the wood on her table top.

"Ron, please!" Pansy said, scandalized. Ron peered up at her appealingly. It was easy to see where Hermione got her tricksy ways.

"I mean it! That really is a lovely color on you."

"Please stop. This is my favorite dress and I don't want to have to burn it." Secretly, Pansy was pleased. She wasn't pretty, her nose saw to that, pug and making her look as though she had run into a wall as a child and it had stuck that way. There were no spells or magical ways to fix it and when she suggested that muggle rhinoceros surgery, her mother fainted dead away, woke to tell her that she would be disowned if she tried and then fainted again. That episode didn't stop her from fantasizing though, which she did at every available opportunity. Pansy, stared at the hot water heater willing it to boil faster under the force of her glare as Ron continued to trace the grain with his fingertip. The pot began to whistle and she snatched it off the stove, filling up the first teacup that she saw, her favorite.

She placed the tea in front of him and took the chair on the other side of the table, putting it between them. The silence stretched far into the awkward before Ron broke it.

"The weather is supposed to be nice this week." His voice had just a hint of desperation.

"You don't say." Pansy politely mumbled into her teacup.

"Should be pleasant, warm weather."

"Mmmm." Pansy didn't even dignify him with words, merely a sound and she nearly flinched when he started turning the cup by the handle, creating the unmistakable sound of china grinding against each other. Ron groaned and gripped the handle harder.

"Damn it Pansy! I'm trying here!" Ron shouted, slamming his teacup onto the saucer and the tell tale sound of breaking china rang out. Pansy stood slowly, leaning forward on her palms.

"Weasley, do you have a pathalogical need to please women?" Weasley's face contorted, trying to keep in a giggle at her unfortunate wording and Pansy gave him a disgusted look. "Don't be so asinine, do you need to feel as though everyone likes you?"

"No, But I really try." His grin stretched into Cheshire cat territory. "Especially with women."

Pansy refused to let herself smile but felt the tug on her lips as they wanted to curl. To rein it in, all she had to do was look down at the sadly cracked teacup. "That was my favorite."

He stared at the cup for a moment and then looked up at her with kicked puppy eyes. Her instinctive need to dominate the situation was the impetus for her to stand, but it backfired when he was proffered the opportunity to use his most powerful weapon in his arsenal of tricks, looking up through ginger lashes.

"I'm sorry." He said softly, nudging Pansy's anger out of the way for her efficiency.

"You are leaking on my table." She turned away, firmed her lips and grabbed the trash can to sweep the porcelein into the can. Ron gently brushed her hands aside and swept the destroyed china into the can she held.

"Careful of sharp edges."

"It's china."

"Still." Pansy gave him an aggrieved look, but he maintained firm.

"Go home." Pansy said tightly, nearly spilling the trash as she jerked it away. "The Floo powder is on the mantle."

Pansy slammed the trash can on the counter and stalked to her room, closing the door firmly. Ron stood for a m moment, bewildered as a puppy that just was hit on the nose with a rolled up newspaper for the first time. Pansy's door remained shut and Pansy herself tucked the pillow over her head to sleep, not even bothering to remove her beautiful red dress, wrinkling it beyond repair.