I'm not sure why I wrote this; it just popped into my head, and I decided to roll with it since I like Hansy so much. There isn't as much of it as I would like. I'm still learning to write better, so any helpful reviews will be great!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters. That right belongs to J.K. Rowling. I just have fanfic ideas always bouncing around in my head and the uncontrollable urge to write them.
With all that said, for anyone that actually reads these little snippets at the top of every fanfiction, I'm sorry for wasting your time with my rambling. Enjoy!
A New Perspective
In all his seven years at Hogwarts, there was no other girl who had riled Harry Potter's short temper more than the Slytherin Princess herself, Pansy Parkinson. Her position at Draco Malfoy's side had set her up for his occasional angry outburst. Her taunts, barbs, and calling him "Scarface" at every opportunity certainly didn't help her get into his good graces.
In fourth year, when she had worn one of those awful Potter Stinks badges and found a way to permanently stick it to Potter Stinks, Harry's anger always flared at the sight. The Parkinson heiress had seemed to enjoy pushing him to his limits and always walked away with an impish smile on her face. Though, he couldn't help but admit that the smile had lit up her face and had left his with a slight warmth.
Then in fifth year, she had joined the Inquisitorial Squad with the rest of the Slytherin gang. The ebony-haired girl had always seemed to trail after him exclusively, waiting for any reason to dock points from Gryffindor. Occasionally, Harry had lost his patience and had a go at his pursuer. Their arguments had become legendary and quite the show for other students; they had often ended with the two yelling "Scarface" and "Pug-face" and then storming off.
Their hostility had finally come to a climax in Pansy's seventh year during the Battle of Hogwarts when she had screamed for Harry to be turned over to Lord Voldemort. The grey-eyed young woman was constantly shamed by the rest of Hogwarts for that, and she couldn't go anywhere in the castle without being on the receiving end of spiteful glares from Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws alike; she was even scorned by a couple of Slytherins who were trying to enter the good graces of other students.
Yet, the pale young woman never seemed to stagger as she shielded herself from the taunts and barbs, walking around the halls of Hogwarts with a shield of makeup and a confident smirk. In an odd sort of way, Harry had respected her perseverance from afar. He had chanced glances at her from across the Great Hall and in their shared classes to admire her determination.
It was in the middle of his unofficial eighth year, and Harry was in the Owlery tying a letter for Andromeda to the leg of one of the school owls. When he finished and watched the eagle owl fly into the distance, he heard a sound he was all too familiar with coming from above. He climbed the stairs slowly coming closer and closer to the source of the sound. When he finally came to the highest landing of the Owlery, he came upon the sight of Pansy Parkinson sobbing uncontrollably and sitting among old owl droppings.
She was sitting curled into a tight ball against the wall, knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around her arms, and her forehead resting on her knees. Her normally straight, ink-colored, shoulder length hair was matted and twisted in all directions as if she had gripped and pulled at it for the past hour. Pansy's chest rose and fell frantically with each whimper.
Harry froze at the scene before him, the stoic Slytherin Princess, Pansy Parkinson, bawling her eyes out on the dirty floor of the Owlery. He gave a slight gasp, and Pansy whipped her head up at the noise, showing him her tearstained makeup. Harry didn't know why, but he felt a twinge in his chest when her eyes met his.
"P-Potter," Pansy said with a shaky voice as she wiped her tears with the palm of her right hand. "Wh-What are you doing here?"
"I was just, er," Harry replied, stumbling over his words. "Just sending a letter. I heard you, er…"
"Crying? Yeah," Pansy interrupted him her voice still shaking. "Well, go ahead and laugh at Pug-face Parkinson."
Harry couldn't explain, but he frowned at the name and got angry with the girl in front of him. "What? Why would I laugh at you," he shot back.
"Potter, I'm not sure if you've forgotten, but you hate me, and I…" Pansy said still trying to dry her eyes and clear her makeup. "I hate you."
Harry rolled his eyes and said, "I wouldn't say I hate you, Parkinson." He walked over to her and awkwardly sat by her side, not knowing what to do.
"Ha," Pansy gave a mirthless laugh. "What do you call the last seven years of our lives? And what are you doing?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know what to call what we have, but I don't hate you," he said, slowly and awkwardly resting his hand on her shoulder.
"Okay," Pansy said drawing out the o. "But you still haven't told me what you're doing."
"I'm consoling you, I think," he said with a lopsided grin and a small chuckle.
Pansy turned her head on her knees to look at him with a raised eyebrow. Harry fidgeted under her gaze. At that moment, sunlight came in through the Owlery windows and bathed the two students in its warm glow; Harry swore that was why his face felt warm.
"If that's what you're doing, you're doing a piss-poor job of it," Pansy said as she grabbed his hand and brought his arm across her shoulders.
Harry was at a loss for words. Here he was on the top landing of the Owlery with his arm around Pansy Parkinson, the one girl he had constantly fought for seven years. He certainly never expected anything like this to happen today, or this year, or decade. Harry tensed a little when Pansy laid her head on his shoulder.
"Well, then I'm sorry," Harry said not able to keep from chuckling, "I don't really have a lot of experience with crying girls. Do you want to talk about it?"
"That's not what I heard from Ravenclaw in fifth year, Scarface," Pansy replied without her usual bite at the nickname.
Harry was about to retort when he heard a light, melodic giggle. It was nothing like her grating, taunting laugh made at his expense. At the sound, the Owlery seemed to get lighter, or it could have just been from the sun.
Harry and Pansy spent the next hour like that. In silence on the top landing of the Owlery, their backs against the wall, Harry's arm wrapped around her shoulders, and Pansy's head resting on his shoulder. Aside from his sleeping arm, Harry felt rather comfortable; he even fell asleep after ten minutes.
At the end of their hour together, Harry woke with a silent yawn to a familiar weight on his shoulder. He looked down and saw ebony-haired shoulder length hair inches from his face, and he remembered whom he had slept with for the past hour. At the feeling of another small weight, Harry looked down to see Pansy's small hand gripping his waist. The soft breathing that barely echoed throughout the Owlery told him that Pansy had also fallen asleep. He looked out the windows and saw that the night sky was beginning to dot with stars.
"Pansy," he whispered, lightly shaking her shoulder. "Pansy, wake up."
Pansy gave a small grunt in response, gripped him tighter, and dug her head further into Harry's shoulder; he tensed and shivered at the feeling.
Harry shook Pansy a little harder. "Pansy, come on, you have to wake up."
The Parkinson heiress only brought her other arm across Harry's chest and grabbed onto him tighter. "Harry," she lightly moaned.
Harry's eyes almost comically widened at Pansy's voice. "Pansy," he squeaked out in a panicked voice.
Pansy slowly woke with a loud yawn at the sound of Harry's voice. She brought her hand up to rub her eyes, and Harry shivered at the loss of warmth. When she had raised her head and met Harry's eyes, hers widened just as large as Harry's had, and she jumped away from him. She rested her back against the opposite side of the Owlery, which wasn't that far considering they were on the highest part of the spire. Harry watched Pansy's chest rise and fall in shock as she regained her breath.
He moved his emerald eyes up to meet her stormy grey ones, which were alight with a spark of shock and fear. Seeing her still tear-stained makeup annoyed him for some unknown reason. A small rag lay at his side, and he cast a cleaning charm on it. After casting an Aguamenti charm on the rag, he moved to Pansy's side and kneeled down. Pansy stared into his eyes, questioning him. Harry held up the wet rag in response and lifted it to her face. With a hesitant nod from Pansy, he began to wipe away her makeup and dried tears. He lightly held her face still, resting his hand on her delicately soft nape.
The whole time, Harry's eyes never left Pansy's, and he could see the small flecks of blue in the enticing stormy grey. As he washed away her makeup, Harry couldn't help but notice how soft her lightly tanned skin was. Pansy didn't move a muscle under Harry's gaze and stared back with confusion. When Harry finally finished, their eyes were at least a decimeter from each other's. He nervously licked his lips.
It happened suddenly; Pansy leaned forward, and her lips gingerly touched his so quickly that he barely registered her touch. She leaned back against the wall, her eyes emanating worry and hope. Harry licked his lips again, reveling in the taste of Pansy and her lipstick. He quickly caught her lips with his and he felt like he was soaring over the clouds. She tasted like the salt from her tears and her strawberry lipstick, and Harry was drunk on her kiss. Pansy pushed back and wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers twisted in his hair. She turned them around, pushed him into the wall, and swung her leg over his legs, hungry for more. After what felt like an hour but was probably only a couple minutes, the two separated.
Pansy rested her forehead against his and calmed her heavy panting; Harry did the same. Her arms remained wrapped tightly around his neck, and Harry moved his hands to rest on her waist, drawing patterns with his thumbs. After she had calmed, she lifted her forehead off his and looked into his eyes again.
"Pansy," he began. "How long have you, er-"
"Liked you," she interrupted. "Hard to tell, really. I had a crush on you in third year. Probably fell for you around fifth year."
Harry's head spun with the information. He had never imagined this could happen, that the girl he had fought with for years would be confessing hidden feelings for him.
"Wait, fifth year, then our fights?" Harry said.
Pansy giggled, the melodic sound brightening the room once again and bringing a small smile to his face. "Ah, finally caught on to our sexual tension, Potter?" She said with a mischievous smirk.
"Harry," Harry said.
"What?"
Harry raised his hand and smoothed her hair, and Pansy leaned into his hand. "Harry. I figure we're on first name terms now."
"You're right, Po-Harry," she said. "After all, we did just sleep together."
Pansy laughed at the blush that overtook his face at her words. His blush only grew in intensity as he watched her actually laugh for once; it wasn't taunting or derisive like when she had laughed at him before. She lightly bounced with her unbridled joy, and her nose scrunched up. She even quietly snorted but quickly covered her mouth and nose, fixing Harry with a glare.
"That never leaves this room, Harry," she ordered leaving no room for discussion, and Harry just gulped and nodded in agreement.
Pansy looked out the windows and saw the brilliant light of the moon in the night sky. "It looks late. We probably missed supper."
"Probably," Harry said, looking out the window and still drawing patterns onto Pansy's waist. "I have an idea, though, if you're hungry?"
Pansy nodded warily, stood up from Harry's lap, and pulled him up. When they made their way down the stairs and came to the door of the Owlery, Pansy grabbed Harry's hand in a vice-like grip.
"Wait, Harry," Pansy said, looking straight into his eyes and pleading. "I know it seems like I have everything together but-but I'm not sure if I can. Everyone out there, they hate me, and I can see it whenever they look at me."
Harry looked at the girl in front of him clasping his hand with both of hers, her eyes emanating fear and holding back tears. He stepped forward and kissed her temple.
"It's okay," he said, fishing his invisibility cloak out of his school robe.
"Is that an invisibility cloak?" Pansy exclaimed. "You're full of surprises, Harry. This explains how you always seemed to get away from me fifth year."
"Yes, it's been in my family for a while, but it's a little small now," he said with a chuckle, wrapping his arm around Pansy, and pulling her to his side. "Hope you don't mind."
"Not at all," she said, wrapping her arm around his waist and kissing his cheek as Harry wrapped the cloak around them.
As they walked down the halls, Harry enjoyed the warmth of Pansy grabbing onto his side and her vanilla scented hair. Her ink-colored hair tickled against his cheek and reminded Harry of soft silk. Pansy didn't let go of him for the whole walk. When they had finally stopped, they were in front of a large picture of a bowl of fruit.
"Where are we?" Pansy asked.
Harry reached out and tickled the pear, and it squirmed laughing and transformed into a knob. He opened the portrait and overdramatically held out his hand for Pansy. She giggled and graciously took his hand, stepping through the portrait only to freeze at the sight of the kitchens and the hundreds of house-elves. Harry laughed at her wide eyes and her mouth open in astonishment only for her to elbow his ribs in retaliation.
Pansy jumped when a sea of twenty or so house-elves ran over to the two, practically yelling, "Mister Potter." Like Pansy, Harry was uncomfortable at the attention and squirmed in place.
"Er, hello. Pansy and I missed supper, and we were hoping to find something to eat," Harry said, receiving furiously nodding heads from the house-elves.
They were herded by the house-elves over to a small table near the corner of the large kitchen.
An old, wrinkled house-elf battered away the rest and stood itself next to the table. "What does Half-blood Master and his Pansy wants to eat," it said, making both Harry and Pansy blush.
"Hello to you too, Kreacher," Harry said. "Pansy, is there anything you'd like?"
"Aside from the obvious," she joked winking and laughing at Harry. "Chicken Alfredo and elf wine."
"That sounds good. I'll have the same," Harry said to Kreacher.
Kreacher set to work making the food and ordering the other house-elves, leaving Harry and Pansy to talk. Least to say, it was rather awkward; the two didn't know how to begin talking to each other.
"So, er," Harry said, reaching out and holding her hand. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Pansy looked down at their joined hands and slowly ran her thumb over the top of his hand. "I have a feeling you're not going to let this go, so I might as well," she said her voice wavering. "You've seen the way everyone looks at me like I'm the next coming of Bellatrix Lestrange. They all hate me, and I don't blame them."
Harry could only watch as Pansy's tears flew freely for the second time of the day. He wanted so much to reach over and wipe away her tears, but his hand was gingerly swatted away and grabbed by her free hand.
"At first, I didn't mind it. Everyone already called me Pug-face Parkinson and stayed away from me, so I was used to it. But my friends, the people I thought were my friends, started to leave me alone. They didn't want to associate themselves with me; they cared about their reputations too much. Even Draco left, the boy who was betrothed to me only a couple weeks ago left and traded me in for little Greengrass. It was just too much, my oldest friend didn't want anything to do with me, and I was left with no one."
At that point, Harry couldn't hold back any longer. He had an intense hatred for Draco Malfoy once again, but that didn't matter. What did matter was the girl sitting in front of him, bawling her eyes out and shaking in anguish. He swiftly stood up and gathered her into his arms, resting her face in the crook of his neck. His shirt was quickly getting wet from her tears, but all of his attention went toward rubbing her back and running his fingers through her silken hair, trying to soothe Pansy as best he could.
"Shh, Pansy, everything's going to be okay. You're going to get through this," he whispered into her ear.
"No, I'm not, Harry," Pansy cried into his shoulder. "My family's dead. Voldemort killed them because they wouldn't join him. I'm all alone. No family, no friends."
"You're not alone, Pansy," Harry said, hugging her closer. "I'm here. You have me. As long as I'm here, you're not alone."
"Harry," Pansy hiccupped only to be cut off by Harry's lips.
Her lips tasted like tears, but Harry kept kissing her. He wanted to make it clear that he was never going to leave. They were kindred souls; Voldemort killed their parents, and he could relate to her loneliness, remembering the times when the school shunned him in second and fourth year. But he had friends to support him, to keep him from falling apart. He wanted to do that for Pansy, at least.
Harry separated from Pansy and cupped her face. Gently, he wiped away her tears away with his thumb, whispering assurances.
"Promise me. Please promise me you will never think like that, Pansy," he said and kissed her forehead. "You can always talk to me, and I will never, never leave you."
"Thank you, Harry," she said, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
They stood like that, arms gripping each other in silence. Their peace in the dimly lit kitchens lasted for a few minutes until Harry felt a slight tugging on his pant legs. He looked down to see a rather young looking house-elf holding a part of his pants between its elongated fingers.
"Mopsie is sorry to be ruining your moment, Mister Potter. Do you and Miss Parkinson still want to eat?" it said, and Harry looked up to see the other house-elves looking on with wary faces, some of the older ones with knowing smiles.
Almost in response, Pansy's stomach growled, and Harry laughed at the sound.
"I think that's a yes," he said in between chuckles and was poked hard in the stomach by Pansy for it.
"Watch it, Potter," she warned.
He chuckled and kissed her forehead once more before sitting them down next to each other. They enjoyed their meal in silence, too hungry to think about anything else, with Harry's arm wrapped around Pansy's shoulders. The meal was delicious, like all the other food made by the house-elves.
When they had finished, Pansy looked up at him and smiled impishly. "Harry, you have sauce on your lip," she said and held down his arm before he could raise it. "Don't worry. I've got it."
She raised herself up in her seat, grabbed his tie, and placed her lips on the corner of his mouth. Her tongue moved tortuously slow over his lip, licking the sauce, and running her tongue over his lips definitely longer than what was necessary.
"Tasty," she whispered seductively, making Harry's skin shiver in goosebumps in the warm air of the kitchen.
"Very," Harry replied, leaning down and catching her lips with his.
Before their kiss could get more heated, Harry and Pansy were shooed out of the kitchens by the house-elves. Outside the kitchens, they leaned against each other and laughed with blushing faces. Harry reveled at the spark in Pansy's beautiful grey eyes and her dulcet laughter. After a minute of just laughing, Harry placed his hands on her waist, and she had her hands on his shoulders.
"Would you like me to escort you to your common room?" Harry asked hoping she would say yes.
Pansy nodded eagerly with a bright smile on her face, kissed his cheek, and hugged his right arm. As she rested her head on his shoulder, Harry walked off to the dungeons. He reveled in the smell and feel of her vanilla-scented ebony hair. Halfway through their walk, Harry was almost sure she fell into a tired stupor as he guided her to the Slytherin dungeon. As he came closer to the dungeons, Pansy came back to her senses.
When she saw the blank, stone wall ahead of them, Pansy gave him a suspicious look, her elegant eyebrow raised. "Harry, this is exactly where the entrance is. Is there something you want to tell me?"
Harry only gave an awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his neck in response. Pansy smiled, raised herself onto her tiptoes, and kissed his forehead.
"It's okay, you don't have to tell me but you will later," she said looking into his eyes.
Harry chuckled and brought his lips down to hers, placing his hands on her waist and losing himself in her taste without her tears for the first time. He swore the feeling was better than flying a broom for the first time. With a groan, Pansy grabbed his hands and moved them to her bum. Pansy wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers twisting in his hair.
She separated from his lips, shocked. "Harry?"
"Yeah?" he said, already missing her full lips against his.
"Your invisibility cloak! We're not wearing it!"
"And?" he asked, kissing her face and neck.
"And someone could have seen us!" Pansy exclaimed.
"Is that a bad thing?" he asked, taking his lips off her cheek and looking into her eyes.
Pansy bit her lower lip and searched his emerald eyes. "Well, no-"
"Then you shouldn't care, Pansy. I want to see where this takes us if you'll let me."
"Yes, Harry," her voice shaking in complete happiness.
Pansy grabbed the back of Harry's head and pulled him in for a deep kiss. He was sure his knees were going to fall out from under him and backed against the wall. The kiss continued for what Harry felt like an hour, and this time it probably was. Eventually, Harry got tired and separated his lips from Pansy's with a light pop. He set her down on her feet and laid his forehead on hers.
"If I kiss you one more time today, I don't think I'll be able to stop," Pansy said.
Harry chuckled and kissed her cheek. "Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
"I guess so. Goodnight, Harry."
"Goodnight, Pansy," Hary said, and as she was about to turn to the Slytherin common room, he lightly grabbed her wrist. "Wait. Would you like to go on the next Hogsmeade trip with me?"
Pansy gave him a brilliant smile. "I'd love to."
With his own smile, Harry turned and began to walk back to Gryffindor tower. As he walked, he wondered how the rest of the castle would react if he came into the Great Hall the next day with Pansy on his arm. Little did he know, Pansy was thinking the same thing as she prepared for bed.
Well, after 4 days of grueling work and revisions on this, I am finally done. I'm not sure if I want to add more chapters to this or keep it as a one-shot, so I'll leave that decision for you (if I get enough reviews, that is). Just kidding! I hate it when people do that. I'm not obsessed with reviews; I just like to read them.