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.

Rating: T

part 2/4

Happy reading!


Three Hot Teas and a Biscuit

Second cup...

It took Pansy at least four months to become accustomed to living in an apartment in France. Her neighbors were welcoming enough, an artist living with this governmental official girlfriend and an aspiring actress or model, Pansy was unsure which, though it did mean that men and women were in and out of her apartment at odd hours. Pansy's apartment was modest, well within her means, and decorated with fine art and collectibles.

Her weekends were always lazy, involving the sun, her chair, a cup of coffee, and moving as little as humanly possible. Everyone knew not to disturb her if they wanted to retain any amount of dignity from the flaying of her razor sharp tongue which had managed to reduce many a telemarketer and door to door salesperson to a ball of gibbering tears.

So when the doorbell rang at ten o'clock on the aforementioned taboo morning, she gathered herself together regally and prepared to rip the offender to shreds.

She opened the door to Ron's far too chipper countenance.

"Hallo Pansy, I'm in France for a couple of weeks. Can I stay here?"

Pansy promptly shut the door in his face.

"Pansy! Pansy at least hear me out!" His voice had a thrill of panic, muffled by the closed door. She could hear a dull thud of him hitting the door, but she ignored it and went back to her pleasant morning.

"Pansy, please?" She could hear him ask quietly, but she continued drinking her coffee, completely unperturbed. A glance at the clock reminded Pansy of her meeting time with a friend. She stared at the door for a moment and then opened the window to climb out of the fire escape. She got one leg out the window when the phone rang. Climbing over the sill in her tight knee length skirt had been challenging, but climbing back in time to catch the phone was neigh impossible. When she reached it, she was breathless.

"Hello?" Pansy fought to pull her skirt down modestly over her knees as she cradled the phone by her ear.

"Ah-Lo darling!" Draco's voice chimed over the handset. Pansy relished the feeling that she could hang up right now and there was nothing Draco could do about it unless he wanted to get an international Floo license and track her down. She knew what was coming and wasn't sure she wanted to hear it as the reason for the cordial greeting was currently still knocking and calling outside her door. "Pansy, are you still there?"

"No." Pansy said, answering his real question before he asked. She could imagine the look of crushing defeat on her best frien'ds face and she felt her lips curl involuntarily.

"I take it he is there?" Draco laughed and muffled the phone to call out to someone. She could only assume was Hermione. He was still chuckling when he returned. "He got there fast."

"He is banging on my door momentarily." Pansy strung out the phone as far as it would go so Draco could hear Ron on the other end.

"He's got a set of lungs on him, doesn't he?" Draco held a grin in his voice.

"He's ruining my morning, Draco." Pansy's voice turned desperate.

"You could just let him stay." Draco's voice turned wheedling and if Pansy hadn't hardened her heart to his sly ways years ago, she would have capitulated immediately.

"Has he ever heard of a thing called a hotel?" Pansy asked, twirling the curly cord around her finger.

"He needs something unlinked to his name. If he used his credit card, he could be tracked. He has no cash due to his somewhat hasty departure." Draco's voice turned serious and Pansy plugged her ear not connected to the phone. "If you could get him under wraps for a few weeks, I think it'll all blow over."

"What did he do, kill someone?" If he had, she might have let him in just to shout at him that she was rightfully holding the moral high ground. However, if that were the case, she would also rightfully hold her wand and an Adava kedavra moments from her lips. If she accidentally killed him, Pansy was quite certain that the Ministry would accept his dead body as grounds for non-extradition for murder. Upon this thought process, Pansy pleaded into the phone, "Please tell me he killed someone."

"No, nothing so drastic. Remember that bint he publicly broke up with a few months back?"

"And by broke up with, you mean publicly humiliated, correct?" Pansy definitely recalled that incident. She had been drinking coffee with a friend when it happened and had summarily made up nasty rumors about the girl, partly because it was funny, and partly because a stray bit of the raw magic the girl was tossing about caught her cup of coffee and made it wander off while she wasn't looking. She had been short tempered the entire rest of the day.

"Yes, well, there were some perfectly awful rumors going around about the fact that she made certain parts of him shrivel up." Draco said it accusingly and Pansy examined her blood red nails nonchalantly. "She got it in her head that he was responsible and started stalking him. He moved from Westchester to Scotland with Hermione and I and she followed him, Pansy."

"How terrifying." Pansy murmured, flicking her eyes to the door, drumming her fingernails on the counter.

"Pansy, I know that he is a stupid gorilla oaf who broke your teacup, but he really needs your help right now." The unspoken admonishment that it was her rumors that started all this sat in the corner like a highly embarrassed pink and purple elephant. Pansy attempted to release a mouse to scare it away. "If he stayed here, he could try to ravish me in my sleep. You know his womanizing ways."

"You have a lock on your bedroom and a very nice couch that almost broke my back when I helped you move in." Pansy made a moue of unhappiness as she stared at her enormous plush red velvet couch. When moving in, Draco had almost dropped the couch as one of her Muggle neighbors wandered by. "Pansy, please. Hermione isn't sleeping well, knowing that he is in danger. Also, I wish Harry Potter would stop hanging around and go away. It is very hard to have a sex life with the four eyes moping around the place."

"So selfish." Pansy said affectionately. The Draco she knew and loved had been gone for so long that she was about to fill in a missing person's report.

"Yes, now go open your damned door and take care of him like an abandoned puppy."

"Sod off, you pillock." Pansy hung up and went to open her door. She slouched her shoulders and rolled her eyes before turning the handle.

Ron must have been resting against the door because as soon as she turned the knob, he tumbled through the doorway and took her down with him. They crashed to the floor inelegantly and Pansy smashed her elbow and rear.

"Oowtch." Pansy groaned, rubbing at her elbow as Ron lifted his head to grin at her.

"Sorry, are you all right?"

"I think I'm broken." Pansy mumbled. Ron hopped off of her and reached out to drag in a large bag that looked like it was what he used when he ran away to camp in seventh year. "Oh that's so sweet,you brought your home with you, you don't even need my couch.

"Har har, very cute. I do appreciate you letting me stay, though." Ron said, plopping into the cushions and, struggling with his shoes, he nearly vanished into the coach.

"Watch out, the couch eats people." Pansy said, standing with the help of a gracious hand stretched out from the gorilla.

"I heard that Malfoy finally learned how to use the felly tone."

"Yes, well, France isn't connected with the Floo network and he lives to be Hermione's pet project." Pansy snorted, picking up the phone to punch in her jilted friend's number. In a rapid exchange of French which Ron had no chance of decoding, she informed her friend that a pest had barged into her apartment in a mild infestation. Ron smiled blithely on as he groped for the remote to change the channel for something that he understood, but it eluded him as it was all in French. Pansy submitted to couch digestion and sat next to him, crossing her arms and firming her lips. "How long are you here?"

"A few weeks at least." Ron smiled blindingly at her and she felt a thrill of panic that hit her knees in a shockwave. A few weeks of him living with her did not seem all that appetizing, as there would invariably be altercations. "You'll hardly notice I'm here."

"I highly doubt that." Pansy allowed herself to be absorbed completely by the couch, letting her dread drag her down.

For two weeks, his words rang true and they established a routine. Pansy would rise for work, shower, and Ron would wait for her to leave for work before even daring to venture off the sofa. He explored France by day and spent copious amounts of money that Hermione and Harry, cosigners on some of his smaller accounts, sent him. He saw it as an extended vacation. She saw it as an exercise in patience, virtue and resistance to torture. Pansy was, by nature, a solitary being and so being forced to share her space with someone she didnt' even particularly like was like stabbing herself repetitively with a butter knife.

"Are you sleeping with 'im?" Her neighbor asked puffing on her cigarette while leaning over to reach her pinky toe with her purple polish. After giving her an openly horrified look, Pansy stared jealously as her neighbor's hair slid smoothly over her should as she lay over her long legs. Mariné leaned back and wiggled her toes to dry them faster. "Why not? He is tall, good body, red haired and sun kissed all over."

Pansy made an indignant noise that probably orginated from a large river in Egypt. Mariné ignored her. Pansy considered informing Mariné that the red hair and the so called 'sun kisses' were a disease. One that Pansy had no intention of contracting.

"He is gorgeoso!" Mariné said, giving a delighted shiver.

"Looks are a poor substitute for personality and substance...And money. Lots and lots of money." Pansy's lips curled into a smirk as she imagined a life of ease and pleasure.

"Well this Weasel-ly boy, he appears to be very rich." Mariné nudged Pansy and Pansy gave her an appalled look.

"Stolen, I'm sure. He absolutely has poor in his blood." Pansy said with distaste. She waved her hands ineffectually to dry her nails.

"Strange, he brings me back trinkets every day." Mariné jingled her arm and a single gold band fell over her wrist. It was the sort of thing that Pansy abhorred and she wrinkled her nose. "See, every day he asks me if I think you would like it. When I answer non, he gives it to me."

Pansy snorted with disbelief. Mariné tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled coyly up at her friend. "Don't worry mon ami, if it is something you would really like I will send it on."

"Please spare me." Pansy said despairingly. It looked like she was going to have to make it very clear that amorous attentions were entirely unwelcome. She glared at the door as Ron burst into Mariné's apartment.

"I've got it! This time I-" He froze in mid jump for joy and goggled at Pansy. "What are you doing here?"

"Painting my nails, what are you doing?" Pansy blew on her nails, eying him as he shifted.

"Ummmm. Um. Um. Um." He glanced wildly at Mariné who chuckled throatily in her saucy French way. Pansy rolled her eyes and capped her nail polish. She stood regally and brushed herself off, stalking out with her nose in the air. Ron gave her that look again the one that reminded her of a devastated puppy and she felt a slight twinge way down in the atrophied recesses of her conscience. Ron waited until she slammed the door shut behind her.

"I've got it." Ron said, reaching into his bag. He pulled out a ruby necklace that was cased in gold. Mariné stared at him and then sauntered over to twine herself around him.

"She doesn't want you, my darling little weasel. Come move here with me." Mariné purred in his ear and his grin stretched across his face.

"She doesn't want me yet, m'dear." Ron gently removed Mariné's arms. "The yet keeps me going."

'Why are you so attracted to her?" Mariné tried to avoid a pout, but she failed for the most part.

"How can you not be?" Ron smiled disarmingly and Mariné found herself being jealous of Pansy, which she never thought would ever happen. Mariné sighed and Ron patted her head as she slid her arms around his neck.

"It's lovely, she's going to love it. I do appreciate the leftovers, I swear."

"Thanks for your help, Mariné." Ron kissed her forehead and slid out from her grasp again.

"Anytime my little weasel." Mariné sighed again and as he left, she jangled the bracelet. "Ron?" She called him back. "This is the first gift, I have been given without any expectations, even if it is second choice. Thank you."

"Pretty gifts for a pretty lady." Ron winked as he backed out. Mariné smiled and cradled the bracelet to her chest.

When Ron came back to Pansy's apartment, she made him wait outside the door for a few minutes first, pretending not to hear him. When she opened the door for him, he could smell lasagna in the oven.

"Dinner is in five minutes." Pansy turned up her music, classical, and filled the apartment with the sounds of a full orchestra. Ron reached over and switched the radio off. Pansy glared at him and pushed past to turn it back on and he strung out a necklace, deftly clasping it behind her as she passed. She froze and looked down as a beautiful ruby necklace dropped onto her collarbone, winking in the low light of her apartment. It would be brilliant in the sun.

"I found this in a little out of the way shop and I know it's your favorite color." He waved expansively to encompass her red based apartment. "I know I can't replace that damned teacup and Merlin knows I've tried, but I wanted to apologize and say thank you for letting me stay."

"Oh." Pansy said, looking at it. She turned it in the light, admiring it as something softened inside her. Ron stepped into her personal space and for the first time, she didn't back away. It wasn't the fact that it was expensive, people gave her expensive gifts all the time, it was the fact that it was very well thought out and he had obviously taken a few tries to get it right. It was different from her mother and father's presents which she had always invariably hated, and always came on the heels or immediately proceeded a demand for correct behavior. It was highly demeaning in her eyes to be seen that she could be bought and sold with pretty objects, so much so that she almost never accepted gifts anymore. She smiled up at him and his heart clenched as it was so rare and precious that he savoured it's warmth. "Thank you."

They ate dinner in their usual silence, accompanied by the sounds of Stravinski and Rachmaninoff. Pansy gave him his tea that he had previously proved to be incapable of making. The hot water heater bamboozled him and she lacked a kettle or any means of magically heating the water. He generally followed her around like a puppy until she made it for him.

After, she came out of her room and Ron nearly fell of the coach he was stretched out on. Her dress consisting of a corset and sleeves emphasized her curves and her girls rounded scandalously. Ron, used to model thin girls, stared openly and breathlessly at the ample skin displayed in an almost haphazard but secretly very careful fashion. Her hair swept off of her neck and up in long curls on the one side of her angular face making it softer and more approachable. Her dress was of course red, he didn't think she owned any other color cocktail dress. Ron scrambled up to get her coat as she had an intense argument with her shoe ties before lacing them up her legs.

"Where are you headed to, and may I escort you?" Ron asked eagerly. Pansy stopped and surveyed him.

"I am allowing you to preside in my home due to charity, a warm heart, and clearly a masochistic nature." And guilt though she certainly wasn't going to mention that one aloud. "This does not mean that we are friends or anything you might otherwise delude yourself into hallucinating." She accepted her coat.

"Your impersonation of a butler has been satisfactory and for your information, I have a date with a lovely Frenchman I met at the bakery last week." Pansy took down her scarf and wrapped it carefully, stalling at his touch.

"Don't go." Ron said softly, twining a curl around his finger. Pansy slapped at his hand irritably.

"Don't tell me what to do." Pansy snapped, punching the buttons of her coat through the buttonholes.

"I'm not telling, I'm asking." Ron murmured, stepping even closer. Pansy pushed her hands to his chest to ward him off and he covered them with his own to pull her closer. He tangled his fingers in the necklace which she still had on and crushed his lips to hers.

Pansy hadn't been kissed in a very long time. She was hoping to change that tonight so that she would stop watching whenever Ron licked his lips. Or bit them. Or ate anything really though she'd learned that peaches and strawberries were particularly tortuous. Because of this lack of proper kissing on which Pansy blamed her moment of temporary insanity, she kissed him back. Briefly. Hardly for a fraction of a second, really.

Far too soon, in Ron's opinion, she was struggling to free herself, beating at him with ineffectual fists for a moment before bringing her knee up and then slamming her stiletto heel into his foot with a satisfying crunch.

Ron released her and recoiled in pain, howling curses. Pansy put her back to the wall, panting, and opened the door carefully.

"You leave. You leave right now. I want you gone tonight!" Pansy said warningly, backing out her door with an umbrella she grabbed from her hand held in a perfect fencer's grip.

"Pansy," Ron pleaded, his hands grasping for her.

"No! I mean it!" She shouted, slamming the door in his face. She hissed through it, though she was certain he would hear it. "If you are still here when I get back, I will use my wand and you will find out how many of those dark curses I did learn and how many were rumors. When I am done, you will fear me far more than you ever feared those silly brains."

With that, she turned on her heel and stalked off. She had a lovely date with Pierre, came home and stayed with Mariné to be safe. When she returned home the next morning, all evidence of Ron living with her had been erased except for a single cup of tea, congealed and cold, rotting away on the table.