Perhaps

Ohhhh, Pansy. Pansy, Pansy, Pansy. You are just a right little jerkface, now, aren't you? But an intriguing one, which leads us to this little story. I wanted to give it a strong yet slightly different parallel to my Bellatrix story, Last (also found on my page), showing a similar setting in a new generation. Obviously it won't be a complete parallel – Pansy doesn't have any siblings (as far as we know…) and the atmosphere is completely different, what with the whole lack of obvious Dark Lord cramping everyone's style – but the connections are hopefully still there. For the sake of the story, I decided that the Parkinsons and Malfoys were not super close before Draco and Pansy's Hogwarts days. Yes, I know, they've always seemed rather chummy, but so have Harry and Ron, and they didn't meet until the train, so who's to say the same didn't happen with Draco and Pansy? Right, anyway, moving on…straight to the story, then!

"Slytherin!"

Pansy smirked as she removed the Sorting Hat from her head and sauntered over to the cheering green and silver clad table. She chose an empty seat beside Daphne Greengrass, who returned her grin. Her childhood friend had been one of the few other girls to gain entrance to Hogwarts' best house, and neither girl was surprised at the hat's choice for her. Both the Parkinsons and Greengrasses prided themselves on a long history under Salazar's name, leaving it inevitable that they too would follow in the paths of their pureblood lineage. Having confirmation on their expectations left both girls somewhat relieved to have been correct, however, though they would never admit it out loud.

The sorting continued, placing a pair of tanned skinned twins in Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Pansy quickly grew disinterested in the whole affair. There were very few students still standing nervously at the head of the hall and unless any of them became fellow Slytherins, she doubted they would be worth her notice. Her father had made it very clear before she boarded the train that morning that purebloods were the ones she needed to interact with, Slytherins in particular. She didn't question why, just as she had her entire life, but simply agreed to do as he demanded. She discovered years ago it was best this way, resulting in less discomfort and annoyance for everyone involved. An utterly stunning and somewhat unexpected cry of a very specific and familiar name jolted her back to attention, however.

"Potter, Harry!"

Pansy stiffened in her seat, her brown eyes widening as she gaped up at the head table, vaguely recalling an offhanded mention from one of her parents that the child should be attending the school this year as well. A short, skinny boy with ridiculously crazy black hair slumped forward, eliciting a wave of barely contained whispers. She, along with nearly everyone else present, craned to watch as he anxiously placed the ancient hat over his nest of ebony madness. Just as quickly as the whispers began, they vanished as an entire school of magical beings waited breathlessly for the answer of where the Boy Who Lived would spend the next seven years. Daphne's long blonde hair shifted into Pansy's vision as her friend leaned toward her.

"Where do you think – "
She was interrupted by the hat declaring, "Gryffindor!" and said house bursting into raucous applause. The fairly unspectacular looking boy grinned meekly as he was accepted into the overly enthusiastic table, making Pansy sniff in disapproval. She shifted closer to Daphne's side to speak to her over the excessive noise.

"Gryffindor. Naturally. Idiotic bunch of blood traitors and Mudbloods." Apparently her words carried slightly down the table, because as soon as she spoke them, a trio of snickers replied. She turned to stare at the three boys, two exceptional large ones and another with a shock of blindingly blonde hair. She recognized all of them vaguely – her father did business with both the Crabbe and Goyle families, and occasionally would bring their brutes of sons along while they conferenced. The blonde was obviously the Malfoy heir; no other family possessed that particular coloration, not to mention he practically oozed with arrogant opulence. Pansy barely paused to give the pair of indistinguishable ruffians a second glance, instead favoring Draco with a serious look. She supposed he might be considered appealing; it was hard to tell at such a young age, and his haughty, 'don't give a damn' smirk that seemed to be constantly fixed on his face irrationally irritated her. Nevertheless, she flashed him a coy smile.

"My thoughts exactly," the boy smoothly muttered, ignoring the last few students being sorted to focus on her. He shot a hand out to her, which she willingly took. "Draco Malfoy. A pleasure."

"Pansy Parkinson," she replied. "And it certainly is."

His grin widened, grey eyes portraying his obvious amusement before they were interrupted by the arrival of the final Slytherin, another of her childhood friends, plopping himself in the seat across from her. Pansy turned to the dark skinned boy, though her attention remained mostly on Draco. "Blaise. Welcome to the dark side."
"Naturally," Blaise chastised, his face remaining its characteristic stoic self. "As though there were any doubts."

Pansy chuckled, leaning over to punch his arm lightly. Blaise's icy exterior softened briefly, allowing him to halfheartedly gift her with a tiny grin. At the head table, Dumbledore rose to his feet, shooting off some nonsense she barely heard. If Pansy were truthful, she'd admit that she did truly look up to Hogwarts' current headmaster. His skills were matched only to the Dark Lord's and his dedication to the school's students was admirable. His adoration of the Muggleborns was an unfortunate stopping point, nonetheless.

As the table suddenly groaned in protest at the sudden weight of the food it abruptly held, the Slytherins began to partake, easily transitioning into conversation. Blaise and Daphne talked enthusiastically of their upcoming classes, occasionally encouraging Pansy's participation. She willingly gave her opinion once prodded, but mostly kept to herself. Instead, she found herself stealing glances with Mr. Malfoy, even meeting his eye more than once. Her friends certainly noticed, if Daphne's knowing smile and Blaise's raised eyebrows indicated anything. Pansy favored them with a noncommittal shrug. It would be beneficial to befriend the boy, both for potential future betrothals and to further her own family's name. The Malfoys were influential, a name known throughout the wizarding world, feared yet respected both with the Ministry of Magic and former followers of the Dark Lord. The Parkinsons did well for themselves, certainly, but any opportunity to better one's self was vital. She noticed the chance, dancing just out of reach, and would be damned if she let it flit off without putting herself in the position to catch it.

She remained mostly silent for the rest of the night, lost in her thoughts as Dumbledore recited his speech at the meal's closing and the horde of students stampeded to their individual common rooms. The Slytherin prefect given the task of shepherding home the new first years ordered the eleven year olds out of the great hall and toward the dungeons, obviously irritated to be forced to deal with them. He barked them along quickly, hardly allowing them the chance to find the way, and happily dumped them in the crowded, gloomy common room. Disinterested in continuing their futile attempts at engaging Pansy in discussion, Blaise bid the pair of girls good night and followed his fellow males to their beds. Pansy, led by Daphne, did the same. As they reached their rooms, Daphne prodded her friend in the side slyly.

"What are you planning, Pans?"

Pansy grinned, shaking her head slowly. "Nothing. Yet."