Disclaimer: Well, I don't own any of it. Except the plot line, that is mine. And, on my other stories, I don't own that stuff either. I always forget this disclaimer. I mean, don't people know that J.K. Rowling wouldn't type fanfiction? Isn't that an accurate assumption to make?
I own the plot. This is a prequel to "The Beauty of Magic" so if you haven't read that story, I would suggest it. However, it does come after this so if you don't want the ending partly ruined, I would just wait until this is complete and then puruse on over there.
Dedication: This chapter goes out to Cory-- For my first, full length, Harry-Pansy fic! You didn't really turn me onto the ship, but you definitely fueled the obsession!
Thanks: Well, first of all to Grace for being a brilliant beta! I hope she sticks with me through out this story and the next! Also, to Lillie, who isn't reading this until she gets back from vacation, but lookie! I am sticking to canon!
CHAPTER ONE:
Pansy Parkinson spun around in her black office chair waiting. Just waiting. Her honey colored hair spun out in all directions and her face held one of the few smiles that anyone would see during these hard times. Her sage colored eyes sparkled with laughter and she squealed as she let go of the seat and put her arms out wide beside her; losing her balance Pansy flung off the chair and into the wall behind her desk causing various pictures to crash to the ground around her.
Any man would be hard pressed to call Pansy beautiful, she had rightfully earned the nickname "Pug-faced Parkinson" back at school; with a small nose and high cheekbones her face was out of proportion, while her hair color and eye color clashed horribly. On their own her features were stunning, breath-taking, but together they just made her face look squashed.
Back in school Pansy was simply a name without a face, the girl who clung to the arm of the infamous Slytherin Sex-God Draco Malfoy, and nothing more.
That all changed when she turned seventeen, their seventh year at Hogwarts, most students didn't go back. Pansy was no exception.
There came a knock on the door and Pansy looked up from her perch at the door just as it opened and a dark haired man came in.
"Parkinson, what the bloody hell are you doing on the floor?" he asked, coming over and taking a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of her desk.
Pansy smiled up at her boss and crawled back into a standing position. Moving herself back into her chair she spun it around to face the man in front of her.
"Just having a little fun, Roger," she said tugging on the front of her lavender blouse and straightening it up. She opened her right desk drawer and pulled out the report she knew Roger had come here for. He was a work-a-holic and reminded her slightly of a bushy haired, know-it-all, Gryffindor from her youth. He had dark brown hair, dark eyes, and was hardly ever seen without a lab coat on and a smile.
"Well, do a little less of it on the job," he said with a slight smirk and an amused tone; it wasn't everyday Pansy was less than perfectly mannered and working diligently in her office. Standing up and moving around her desk, Roger picked up a few of the pictures that had fallen down off the wall, while Pansy watched him out of the corner of her eye while she triple-checked the report sitting on the desk in front of her.
Roger's sight lingered on a set of newspaper clippings as he placed the picture of her and Millisent Bulstrode back on the wall. Ever since the war had begun Pansy had kept a record of the deaths of people she knew. She watched as Roger fingered the edges of the silver frames and as his eyes flicked quickly over the curly scroll that The Daily Prophet used. She somehow managed to hold back the wave of tears that after nearly three years still threatened to poor down her cheeks.
Roger adjusted a frame so it hung straight before moving back around the desk. He looked at Pansy with confusion masking his features and she desperately tried to hide her face by staring down at the perfect report; she didn't need to correct it, but anything was better than facing the man in front of her.
Roger looked at her and waited to see if she would say anything. When she didn't he sighed and leaned forward against her desk. "Pansy, who are those people in the newspaper clippings. There is almost a new one up every month."
Pansy sighed as she capped her ballpoint pen and pushed the report towards Roger still avoiding eye contact. She turned and opened her lower left hand drawer. pulling out a shoe box.
"What's that?" asked Roger eyeing the box curiously. He had a feeling of dread in his stomach for what he might find.
Pansy slid it across the table and lifted her eyes to Roger's. Tears clouded her green eyes and Roger gulped as he opened the box. Looking down in it he didn't know whether to be relieved or shocked; it was simply more newspaper clippings, but that meant more people had died. More people, judging from her tears, that were important to Pansy.
Roger pulled a few out and quickly read over the curly scroll that matched that of the ones that had earned a place on the wall.
"Ron Weasley, aged nineteen, was brutally murdered at the scene of another muggle attack by Death Eaters. He left behind a loving wife, Hermione Weasley, and four family members that have survived thus far: Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Ginny Weasley, and Percy Weasley. Rumors have leaked that Percy Weasley is secretly working for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and…"
"Jessica Sireon, aged eleven; Martha McKenna, aged eleven; and Stephan Gray, aged twelve, were found dead just outside of Flourish and Blott's. Sources say they were shopping for school books when Death Eaters attacked Diagon Alley. The first year students, who would all be starting Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this fall, were brutally murdered…"
Roger sat their shocked before turning his attention to the final clipping he had pulled out of the box.
"Draco Malfoy, aged sixteen, died after suffering no less than twelve rounds of Unforgivable Curses. It is suspected that he failed You-Know-Who. He left behind future fiancé Pansy Parkinson who was destined to marry the Malfoy Heir after their graduation from…"
He looked up at Pansy who had pulled the box away from him as he was reading. She clutched it to her chest as unshed tears began to fall from her green eyes, rolling down her cheeks, and leaving water droplets on the clippings.
"Pansy," he stated lamely. He had no idea what to say to her. He knew she was a witch, knew she was in hiding, all of that had been explained to him when he had hired her at the young age of seventeen, but the reason why had always been a mystery to him.
He had often wondered why Pansy was such a diligent worker, who almost never left her dark, second floor office, and very rarely smiled. He had often asked her to smile, saying it was bad for one's health not to, but he often got glared at and told to mind his own business.
Roger raised his eyes about to try speaking again when a very peculiar sight caught his attention. He stared past her at the window and pointed his hand towards it. Pansy looked up at Roger and tensed knowing exactly what she would see when she turned around.
A black owl with a letter attached to its leg hooted rather loudly and Pansy spun her chair around, stood up, and opened the window. The owl hopped down and stuck out its leg for her. Taking the letter she sat back down and the owl was gone in a blur of black feathers.
Pansy winced as she saw the seal, dark black with the Black crest, and a clipping from a newspaper which had landed next to it.
Pansy picked up the newspaper clipping and nearly fainted as a fresh flood of new tears poured down her checks. She didn't even turn her attention to the note, just opened the top desk drawer again and pulled out her wand. In a flash and a pop she was gone, leaving a very confused Roger in her wake.
Roger leaned across the table and picked up the note twirling it in his fingers admiring the care that someone had taken when sealing and addressing it. He broke the seal and read the note before dropping it and moving on to the newspaper clipping. When he was done he placed both items in her shoebox, closed the lid and placed it in the center of her desk.
Roger was about to leave the room, he had his hand on the doorknob, when he heard a familiar popping noise that meant Pansy had returned. He turned around to find a puffy eyed Pansy staring at him.
"W-Where did y-you put them," she asked, her voice breaking as she fought back sobs.
"There in your box."
Pansy nodded and picked up the shoe box. tucking it under her arm. "Thank-y-you, Roger. F-For every-thing."
Roger nodded and left the room closing the door behind him. He didn't need to stay to know that Pansy had probably apparated before more tears came. He also knew he wouldn't be seeing her for some time.
Pansy rolled over as the moonlight filtered through her apartment window and across the hard wood floors. She looked at the clock on the mantle. 11:57. Three more minutes of hell before she would be free to run. Run to the one place she has always considered safe.
It would be a matter of hours before Death Eaters showed up at her door. Mid morning attack; she just had this feeling. Pansy stretched in front of the fireplace and twirled a strand of hair around her fingers. She had no tears left in her at the moment, just questions.
Why her? Well, she knew the answer to that one. It was no secret among the Death Eater ranks that since the horrible torture and murder of Draco Malfoy that she had turned against them. She never particularly had a problem with Death Eaters or their take on the world, but that all changed when her future fiancé was killed.
Many thought she only hung around Draco because she wanted the power and attention; and they thought he only hung around with her because she was a good lay. Of course, neither of those Rumors were true, but both allowed rumors to float around. Rumors did nothing to them.
Why her family? That was a simple answer too. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named always attacked those who mattered most to a person. It was a way to make them weaker, to make them not want to live anymore. But it wasn't going to work. Not on Pansy.
She was going to fight back.
Midnight struck and Pansy turned towards the clock. Her face paled, but she was determined. Hoisting her bag onto her shoulder with all her supplies, clothes, and that old shoe box tucked safely into it.
Pansy appeared exactly where she wanted to be; lights glittered in the background and Pansy turned towards the place that she had called home for six long years.
End Notes: There you have it! The first chapter. This is a prequel to Beauty of Magic, so read that if you haven't. And review! Good ones will be appreciated, critiques taken into consideration and welcomed, and all bad ones laughed at. Please, have fun!