"Parkinson, how many times have I told you to stop doing this," a voice said behind her, dripping with exhaustion and irritability. Pansy didn't bother flinching, simply flicked the ashes off the end of her cigarette over the edge of tower.
Cedric Diggory stood behind her, still decked out in his Hufflepuff robes despite it being well past midnight, Prefect badge gleaming in the moonlight. His arms were crossed sternly, and he was frowning. Pansy's face didn't change as she took another deep drag, reveling in the burn of nicotine and smoke.
"Just counting this year?" she asked, blowing smoke up into the air and watching his nose shrivel up like he was smelling a dungbomb. "Or this week?"
Cedric – because what else could she call him when she knew how he would die – sighed through his nose as though he were faced with one of the Weasley twins, before reaching down and snatching her half-smoked cigarette from her hands. Putting it out on a column next to them, he then tossed the bud over the edge. Pansy watched it go with a sigh.
"For one thing," Cedric began, a lecture Pansy now knew by heart, "you're too young to smoke cigarettes, even Muggle ones. I did my research. And if that weren't enough, I have told you repeatedly that you can not be out past curfew, yet here you are, for the third day in a row."
"Yeah," she rolled her eyes, pulling her thick cloak around her tighter. "What's your point."
Cedric reached up to rub the bridge of his nose angrily. "10 points from Slytherin. Now get back to your dorm before I give you detention."
Pansy sighed – there seemed to be a lot of that going on – and stood up. Even though she was older and taller than most her yearmates, at fifteen Pansy only reached up Cedric's shoulders. It made sense, she thought. He was seventeen and two years ahead of her, probably already thinking of putting his name into the competition Dumbledore had announced three weeks earlier at the start of term. A big, unmoving target for an Avada Kedavra.
She remembered the first time she saw him after Remembering. How she had been struck with the fact of how…matyr-ish Cedric Diggory looked. Big and broad, with a pretty face and gold eyes. No wonder Harry Potter would agonize over his death for the rest of his life.
Now when she looked at him, all she saw was a tomb stone and the boy who frequently caught her smoking to escape. The boy who, when he first caught her, had asked her what was wrong and why she was crying. The boy she had spat insults at to keep away before running back to the dungeons with her tail between her legs.
He really was just a boy.
As she walked past him to the staircase that led to the seventh floor, she paused.
"Hey, Diggory."
He was watching her, as though to make sure she would actually listen to him. "Yes?"
"Don't enter the tournament," she pleaded – no, she ordered, but somehow it sounded like begging.
Cedric looked as though he was going to say something in response, before shaking his head in confusion. Pansy stayed a moment longer, long enough to feel the breeze once more and try to burn the image of him alive into her eyelids like she did everyone she knew would die. And then she started to trudge her way back to the Slytherin dorms, one slow step at a time, knowing Cedric was trailing after her just to make sure she made it there.
-/
Sometimes, Pansy wondered if, were the Hat to sort her with all her Memories intact, where it would have put her. She especially wondered this whenever she was surrounded by her Slytherin yearmates. Forced to listen to Draco Malfoy whine about Quidditch at the Great Hall table was a torture great enough that she almost wished to rip the Slytherin badge off her robes in the hopes that she'd never see his prissy little face again.
This was one of the shifts caused by Remembering. The merging of two lifetimes in one girl, the knowledge of the future because some bint decided to make a career out of it had odd effects. No longer did she enjoy grape jam the way she'd done before Remembering, but neither did she enjoy strawberry jam the way she had in her Memories – in fact, Pansy didn't enjoy jam at all anymore. Many things had changed about her, and Pansy no longer knew how much of either of herselves remained truly.
Maybe the hat would've put her in Gryffindor, she thought, glancing across the hall.
Cedric was watching her. Pansy looked away nonchalantly and 'focused' back on Draco. She didn't even realize she had lifted her hand to her mouth until half her thumbnail was gone. Pansy refused to acknowledge Cedric outside of the times they ran into each other after curfew, simply to preserve her sanity. There were very few Slytherins that she knew of who would die gruesomely and thus, her House was a safe haven for her emotions. Other Houses, not so much.
"Are you even listening, Pansy?" Draco suddenly demanded, looking affronted.
"Not in the least, darling, but don't let that stop you," she said, acid dripping from every word.
Any sympathy she held for Draco Malfoy upon Remembering had shriveled up and turned to ash the first night back when all he could rave about was how he knew about the tournament all along and that his father was going to get him into it no matter the age restriction.
He harrumphed, offended but unwilling to start anything in front of the rest of the school. Once they were back in the dungeons, though, she had no doubt he would tear into her as best he could.
"I'll see you in Potions, Draco," she said, rising from her seat and watching with apathy how none of her former friends stood to follow.
She had a free period first, today, after dropping Divination the second day. Thankfully. She needed to continue practicing with the wand that no longer fit her if she was going to pass any of her practical classes. Her bag swinging on her shoulder, Pansy marched out of the castle and down towards the Lake – and then further, to the side nearest to the Forest where many older students could be found after dark for a tryst.
Spreading her cloak inside-out on the ground, she sat on top of it and got out her First Year Charms textbook and her wand. Without the specially-made, extra-light feathers, she had improvised with a quill. Her wand – ebony, 8 ¾", with a dragon heartstring core – had once allowed her to lift a goddamn coffee table without breaking a sweat.
Swish. "Wingardium Leviosa." And flick.
The quill didn't do more than twitch. Pansy closed her eyes and thought about the past three weeks of disappointed stares from Flitwick and McGonagall and even Sprout. Of the terror she felt in the presence of their Defense Professor, Moody or Crouch or whatever he wanted to be called when wearing another's face, when she knew she couldn't protect herself at all were he to demonstrate on them the Cruciatus like he had the spider. The Imperius had been bad enough.
Pansy opened her text book to the first page. Like yesterday and the day before and the day before, today would be hard. She still had no goddamn clue when she would be able to get to Diagon Alley to buy another wand. Truthfully, she didn't know how she would bloody well do it in any capacity. Would she be able to catch a train to a nearby town? Would she have to wait until the next Hogsmeade visit in fucking November, or would she have to sneak out? Her mother worked in Knockturn at a bookshop and frequented Gringotts as it was – how the hell would Pansy not run into her?
Over the summer, Pansy had been slowly taking all the funds out of her allowance vault and putting them back into a separate vault set up without her parents' knowledge. She did it with small enough amounts, on a set basis with the Goblins, that they thought she was wasting her money away like she had Before, and kept refilling it once the time was up. It cost her to have this done, so she lost ten galleons for every one hundred, but her parents were rich fuckers so she didn't care. There was already nearly a thousand galleons in her vault. All she had to do was access it.
Her focus had shattered, thinking about this. The quill was on fire, making Pansy groan and toss it into the lake where it sizzled on top of the surface for a minute. Once it finally stopped burning, she watched it sink beneath the green-black surface. Closing her eyes, Pansy allowed herself to fall back onto the grass, covering her eyes with the heels of her palms. Vigorously rubbing at them and then sitting back up, Pansy refused to scream her frustration out.
As she was putting her dark brown hair (which she hadn't cut for nearly a year now, and was reaching past her shoulders instead of her old bob) up into a tight bun, though, someone stepped out of the nearby foliage. The sudden rustle of leaves and the appearance of a person had Pansy jolting on her ass and nearly falling backwards as she raised her hands up in a faux-karate-like position. As though she could fight someone off with her great martial arts skills. Already she felt embarrassed, doubly so when she realized who had scared her.
"What do you want, Diggory?" she demanded, suddenly itching for a cigarette. "How long have you been in those bushes? Why were you in those bushes?"
For a moment, he almost looked like he was going rub the back of his head sheepishly, his hand twitching and his shoulders hunched for a split second. But then his back straightened and he rolled his eyes, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"I was wondering why you weren't in class," he huffed, frowning down at her. "I saw you leave during breakfast. But then… I saw you practicing the Levitation Charm. Or trying to, at least."
Pansy narrowed her eyes and glared. "Oh? I'll have you know I have a free period right now. What's it to you what I do with it?"
Cedric threw his hands up, looking at the sky as though begging for mercy, sighing through his nose. "Whatever, Parkinson. Don't tell me why you're having trouble with a bloody First Year spell. I don't care."
And then he stomped off, clearly very much caring. Pansy wondered what she had done Before to have deserved this. Was it the suicide attempts? The stealing? Or her alternate-self's actions of following the Dark Lord? Pansy turned back to her book and got out another quill. A glance at her watch told her she still had an hour before Potions.
Cedric Diggory could go bugger himself for all she cared, and she did not care. She'd write it on his fucking tombstone.
-/
The next time that Cedric caught her smoking was three days later, sitting in an abandoned classroom with all the windows open, perched on a desk near one. Her eyes were rimmed red from lack of sleep, dreams filled with scenes of a future and a life she had yet to live or lived in another life, her nails were all chewed to the quick, and within two hours she'd smoked half a pack of malboros. Today had been terrible, as she'd failed a Transfiguration assignment and lost points in Charms all because she had changed too much for her stupid fucking wand to comprehend.
So here she was, dressed in her silk pajamas that, before Remembering, she had hated for their simplicity but now was grateful for, barefoot and cold, a cigarette clenched between her lips whilst she glared at the offending piece of wood. She'd thrown it across the room ten minutes earlier in a pique of rage.
And Cedric fucking Diggory had just walked in.
"Parkinson," he half-groaned, half-spat. "For Merlin's sake, what is the matter with you?"
"Save it, Diggory, and fuck off," she spat, not caring at all in the moment how swearing might up the ante on her punishment. "I'm not in the mood."
Silence greeted her declaration, not the usual spiel of health factors, rules, and moral bullshit that she usually got from him. When she looked over, he was glancing between her and her wand, which lay in a corner, with an unreadable look in his eyes. Her lips curled. She refused to be pitied, but instead of spewing vitriol like she wanted, she just took another drag of her cigarette.
"Why were you having trouble with the Levitation Charm?" Cedric asked, leaving the door open behind him as he came closer to her.
Pansy pretended she hadn't heard him, finished her cigarette and flung it out the window. Completely ignoring him was easier than answering. She gathered her cigarettes and her lighter, scooped her wand off the ground, and walked past him. Cedric grabbed her shoulder.
"Let go of me, Diggory."
"Why," he demanded, "did you tell me not to enter the tournament?"
"Because you're an idiot," she spat. "And idiots die in the Triwizard Tournament."
Her words did just as she intended them to. Cedric flinched as if struck, hand slipping from her silk-clad shoulder, and she stalked away. Maybe now he would leave her alone. Maybe now he wouldn't enter the tournament. Maybe she had saved a life. Maybe she could be more than what she was fated to be – a mean-hearted, Dark witch.
She didn't look back as she walked out of the room.
-/
For the next five weeks, Pansy made very little progress with her wand and her grades were suffering for it. She had been forced to blackmail Tracey Davis into doing all her transfigurations and in-class practicing for her. Every free period she sat by the lake like usual, smoked cigarettes and fumed at her wand. And every free period that was in the morning, Cedric Diggory sat with her.
At first he had tried to talk her out of smoking, but when she had ignored him for a good week he gave up and cast a Bubble Head Charm on himself. She glared enviously at how easily he'd done it, too. They were supposed to be learning Bubble Heads in class.
After a while, he had even tried coaching her. He didn't ask again why she was unable to use her wand properly, but he always had a dark look in his eyes when he saw her failures. No matter what she tried, though, nothing worked and the first Hogsmeade visit wasn't until November. With Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arriving soon, too, Pansy was struck with how terribly not ready she was for what this Tournament would bring. War.
With a sound that was a mixture between a scream and a sob, she chucked her wand into the grass away from her and Cedric, who was doing his Herbology homework for today. He looked up at her noise, brows pulling together, but didn't say anything. Bastard. Why couldn't he annoy her with his voice so that she could piss him off into leaving.
Falling backwards and slamming into the ground so hard the air was forced out of her lungs, Pansy covered her face with her arm and contemplated death. (Maybe she was being overdramatic.)
"Do you think it's possible to change so much over a single summer that your wand no longer chooses you?" she asked quietly after a few minutes of silence.
Cedric didn't respond. After a few minutes, she felt her ears flush red and wished she hadn't said anything. As it were, she reached for her cigarettes, putting one between her lips and staring up at the treetops as she lit it.
As she blew smoke into the air, he finally spoke. "I've never heard of it before, but honestly, after everything I'd have to say yeah."
She snorted and blew smoke out her nose. "You say that like you know me so well."
"Don't I?" he asked wryly and she glared. "What do you say you and I go to Diagon Alley tonight. So that you can get a new wand."
"Why don't I just go by myself," she spat, rolling onto her side to look away from him.
Cedric laughed, like that was all that needed to be said. "Like you know how to get to Diagon Alley in the middle of a school week."
Bloody Hufflepuffs. Liars, the lot of them, tricking the entire student body and a future fandom into thinking them saints. They were the real Slytherins.
-/
Hogs Head was nearly empty so close to dark on a Thursday. No one looked twice and she and Cedric, neither wearing Hogwarts robes but simple, plain black ones. Just through the back of it was a designated Apparition Point that she and Cedric would use, which was a great deal easier than her sneaking onto a train in the night like she had half-way planned.
Part of her still couldn't believe that a Prefect – a Hufflepuff Prefect – was sneaking a Slytherin out of school grounds. Hell, out of the bloody country. But Cedric acted as though this were just a Sunday stroll, so Pansy faked the confidence as well.
Apparition was a fucking joke, she decided within the next ten minutes and one vomit later as Cedric stood a foot away from like he'd contract a disease.
"Some friend you are," she muttered, before realizing her mistake and shutting her mouth. Cedric grinned at her, wide eyed at the slip. "Move it, dumbass. Gringotts is closing soon."
Soon, with ten galleons in her pockets and her useless wand in hand, she and Cedric entered Ollivanders for what was the second time in their life. No one really went back with the intention of buying a new wand for themselves, after all. Ollivander was standing behind the counter, as though he were about to start cleaning up shop for the night.
Pansy lowered her hood and stepped forward. "Mr. Ollivander. I don't know if you remember me, but-"
"No, I remember," he spoke softly, his voice echoing through the store like a breeze that chilled her spine. "Ms. Parkinson. Ebony wood. 8 ¾". Dragon Heartstring. Rather unwieldy, particular towards Potions, wasn't it? Has it been giving you trouble?"
She nodded, holding it forward. "Hasn't worked at all since school started this year. I need a new one."
Ollivander motioned for Pansy to give it a wave, which she did. Nothing happened, and he made a hum in the back of his through as Cedric pulled his own hood down and sat in the corner chair. Without hesitation, he snapped his wand to attention and Pansy was suddenly surrounded by tape measures in the oddest of places.
"Your wand arm hasn't changed," he murmured, a quill and parchment following his words next to his head. "I wonder what of the combination no longer suits… Alright. Let's begin. Acacia and dragon heartstring, 9"."
Somewhere in the back of the shop, something exploded at her wand wave. Wincing, she shoved it back into Ollivander's hands as he muttered.
One after the other, wand after wand, Pansy tried and failed to find the perfect wand for herself. With each failure, Ollivander grew more excited and the more bored Cedric got. By the time the moon was starting to rise, Ollivander was grinning ear to ear, Cedric was antsy, and Pansy was growing hopeless.
"Quite the odd combination for a Parkinson," Ollivander murmured as he brought the next box out. "However, I think it might suit such a changed one nicely. Aspen wood, 12 ½", with a phoenix feather core. Slightly springy. Aspen wood, my father told me quite often, is for the revolutionaries, stubborn and determined folks who bring about change."
With a description like that, Pansy didn't want to touch the damned thing. Not with what she knew to come. It seemed like some sort of prophecy, one she didn't goddamn want. With a scowl, she took the chillingly-white wand and gave it a wave.
Instantly it was clear to her. Pansy had never felt so self-assured in her life, so invigorated. Like she was drunk and high at the same time, dancing at a concert, but also flying on a broom, determined to get the last point in a near-tied game. Sparks flew from the wand in a shimmer of gold that danced through the air and Ollivander clapped.
"Finally," Cedric groaned, jumping out of the chair.
"That'll be seven galleons – five if you return your previous wand to me," Ollivander bargained.
Just to prove she could, Pansy levitated the money and previous wand out of her pockets to Ollivander. The aspen wand sang under her attention.
Cedric grinned, clapping a hand on her shoulder as they left, the shop door locking behind them. The Apparition back to Hogs Head didn't seem quite as bad this time around.
-/
Days later, she watched Cedric Diggory put his name in a goddamn goblet and sent a stinging hex at him in the hall afterwards. Pansy ran before he could catch that it was her. For some reason, she had trusted him.
-/
"What is this, Granger?" Pansy groaned, standing as far as she could from the bushy-haired Gryffindor shoving pamphlets at anyone who stood too close in the halls. All of them read S.P.E.W. with a picture of a House Elf on them.
For the past day she had been avoiding Cedric, who seemed more determined than ever to either catch her smoking or by the lake. Thankfully, one sleepless night later she was caught up with the spells learned after vigorously trying to learn them on an inadequate wand for the past several weeks, and thus didn't need to go to the lake. This was how she found herself on Hermione Granger's radar in the hall that Pansy rarely traversed.
Granger didn't look too happy to see her either, which Pansy knew she was at fault for. Before Remembering, Pansy had been a right bitch, a purist and a bully. However, she was happy to campaign at a standing-still face.
"The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, S.P.E.W., seeks to give House Elves the same liberties as wizards and witches through freedom," Granger rattled off like a script. "For two sickles you can join and help campaign for elfish rights."
Pansy nodded, thinking about what she vaguely remembered of this. She took a pamphlet. Granger seemed almost shell shocked that Pansy actually stood there long enough to read it. Without saying a word, Pansy tossed a few galleons into Granger's collection jar, snatched a badge and began to walk off.
"Hey! Parkinson!" she heard Granger shout as she pinned the badge to her bag. "That's too much!"
Pansy sighed and looked over her shoulder at Granger. "Shut up, Granger. I have Art, but find me later and tell me if S.P.E.W. has meetings."
Leaving the shell-shocked Muggleborn behind, Pansy booked it to her class. She hated being nice.
Granger did, in fact, find her after Art, dragging her off to the Library with a face that showed both suspicion and elation. The two sat in a corner for the entire lunch period, discussing the ethics of forceful freedom on House Elves. Pansy even got Granger to consider the fact that most wizarding society were not ready for all out House Elf liberation and thus they would have to be in it for the long haul and would need the Elves agreement on everything. They could not be spokespeople of a species that disliked their tactics, after all.
The following weeks were, perhaps, the worst weeks of Pansy's life since the night she woke up with Memories and had to deal with the aftermath.
Cedric was chosen as Hogwarts' Champion, just like she knew he would. Every night she smoked was a race against seeing him, letting him catch her.
But so was Harry Potter. A Champion, she meant.
Her new acquaintance with Granger had already gotten her shit from her Housemates, angry that a Pureblood was friends with a Mudblood. Pansy had had to curse quite a few people in the Common Rooms to keep her social standing whilst limiting her time with Granger still. But as everyone in her House rallied under Cedric just to antagonize Potter, she couldn't help but feel disgruntled at their stupidity – at Cedric's stupidity – at the stupidity of the world.
And blast it all, Pansy didn't want him to die. Desperately, she didn't want him to die.
So she let herself be caught smoking one night, clutching a book to her chest that had notes within it to help him further if he bothered to read it. It was only a week before the First Task and god did she hope he could master something in time for this stupid thing. She was hardly surprised when he found her at three in the morning, an empty pack of next to her and a new one just opened.
"Parkinson," he said, with a civilness that she could tell was fake.
"What, not friends enough to call me Pansy anymore?" she spat instinctively and almost immediately regretted it (and then regretted regretting it).
Cedric's jaw clenched and she watched him through the corner of her eyes, blowing smoke the opposite direction. "I don't understand why you're such…such…"
"A bitch?" Pansy offered up, taking another drag. "It's a talent."
Cedric sighed, breathing deeply and flexing his hands as though trying to calm himself down. He probably was. Pansy was riling him up, just like usual. Wasn't she supposed to be making amends? All she could think about was telling him not to enter – him entering – his future grave. A Hall filled with students toasting to his death.
Cedric pissed her off.
"20 points from Slytherin," he snapped. Her eyes flickered up at him in surprise. "Back to your Dorm."
Pansy shrugged, gathered her things and started to walk. As she passed him, she paused and held out the book and didn't move until he took it.
"Good luck," she mumbled. "Please try not to die."
And then she ran.
-/
The Task was terrifying, more so than it had any right to be. Pansy doesn't envy any of the Champions in the arena, least of all Potter, the most inexperienced of them all. He does admirably, though – but none more so than Cedric.
He had taken her book and flourished, it seemed. She screamed her cheers alongside the rest of the Slytherins supporting him only because of Potter, as loud as any Hufflepuff. But then he'd taken just a side shot of fire and Pansy felt her heart stop.
The bloody fucking idiot was going to get himself killed. And not even the way he was supposed to.
When his turn was over, Pansy rushed from the stands as quietly as she could towards the Champions' tent before pausing. Rita Skeeter had been skulking around the school for weeks, and Pansy knew for a fact that the woman was an Animagus. She'd see Cedric later.
And she did, sneaking to the Infirmary that night.
Cedric was sitting up in bed, paging through a book to the glow of his wand. Pansy slipped into the room as quietly as she could, but he still noticed. He grinned at her, soft and kind and altogether different from the look he had given her the week before.
"How did you know?" he asked quietly. "That it was dragons?"
The book in his lap, she realized, was the one she'd given him.
"Would you believe me if I said I saw it in a dream?" she almost said. Instead, what left her mouth was, "I have my sources."
He nodded, as though this were a perfectly acceptable answer.
"I don't know why you didn't want me to enter," he said after a moment before shaking his head. "No, I know. You… You were worried I'd get hurt. And look where I am now. But Pansy, see, everything is going to be fine. I'm in first place."
"I wasn't worried," Pansy argued. She'd been trying to fight fate itself, not worrying. "Don't jinx yourself, you idiot."
Cedric grinned, lopsided and wide. "How's your wand?"
"Perfect, would you like to test it?" she bared her teeth and raised it threateningly. He didn't so much as freeze.
"Have you got anymore sources?" he asked, gesturing to the golden egg that sat at his bedside. "All it does is scream."
Pansy thought. Maybe if she built trust with him in what to do, he might listen to her and not even go into the Maze.
"Open it underwater," she said, and saw Cedric blink. He hadn't actually seemed to expect anything. "It's mermish. You can't understand it above water."
"Huh," he mumbled, scratching his chin. "Where on earth do you figure these things out?"
Pansy shrugged, reaching up to chew on her middle nail. Cedric reached out to swat her hand from her mouth but she leaned away, making him laugh. They both froze at the reverberating sound.
"You should probably go," he said quietly.
Pansy nodded. "I'll see you around."
"Don't stop for a smoke, Pansy," he ordered as she left, to which she laughed. "I'm serious! Pansy-"
She shut the door and cut him off.
She smoked three cigarettes before she returned to the Common Room.
-/
When the Yule Ball was announced, Pansy had no intentions of going at all. She smoked and she devoured spell after spell, dueled with Cedric in an attempt for practice, she hid flyers for S.P.E.W. under peoples' plates before anyone entered the Great Hall, she did her homework. She ignored Draco's attempts to ask her to the Ball.
On the 16th, Cedric caught her out after curfew for the third time that week. This time she was in a third floor classroom, smoking and staring at the stars. He didn't say anything, simply sat beside her with a Bubble Head Charm.
When the end of another hour approached, along with the end of her fourth cigarette, he finally spoke up.
"Pansy," Cedric said. "Has anyone asked you to the Ball?"
She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if this had to do with Cho Chang, who she vaguely Remembered he went with. Maybe he was trying to get advice to ask her. Wasn't Potter supposed to soon? She couldn't remember.
"Malfoy has," Pansy admitted, seeing Cedric frown. "I know, right? I've pretended to speak another language whenever he tries. It's hilarious. Boy doesn't know when to give up."
"You're not going with him?" Cedric pushed, and Pansy shook her head. "Then will you go with me?"
Pansy, who had been in the midst of a drag, swallowed and began coughing furiously as smoke tried to enter her stomach. She felt like she was going to vomit from it, a mistake she hadn't made in an entire lifetime. Cedric flew from his seat to smack her back with his fist until she could breathe again.
"Did-" she wheezed. "Did you just…ask me to the Yule Ball?"
Cedric nodded. He looked wary.
Pansy desperately took another drag.
"Why?" she demanded.
"Why not?" he parried.
She couldn't afford to become more attached. She was talking to a dying man.
"Alright… I'll go with you."
-/
The Yule Ball was beautiful – truly a winter ball, which Pansy had been to many as a child. She wore a dark red dress the color of wine that reached her knees, had a scoop neck and quarter sleeves, black heels, and a piece of obsidian around her neck. Cedric had demanded to match and thus wore black dress robes with red accents. She sees glimpses of Potter and Cho Chang, clashing horribly but both of them grinning wildly as they dance, of Krum and Granger, a duo of giggles, and spots Ron Weasley sulking around.
After all the stuffy dancing had ended, the punch spiked and both incredibly tipsy, the Weird Sisters went on stage. She and Cedric forced their way into the crowd. The Ball was supposed to end at midnight but truly ran on till nearly two in the morning. She and Cedric didn't miss a second of it.
For once, Pansy looked at Cedric and didn't see a bleak future. She saw a boy with rosy cheeks, a wide grin, and a booming laugh. When she escaped the throngs of people leaving, forced out by Professors, he followed but did not reprimand. He didn't say a word as she climbed up to a tower and began smoking. He simply sat by her and held her hand the way he'd been all night. She stared at their tangled fingers and wondered if her heart would crumble like cigarette ash when he died.
-/
"What are we?" Pansy finally asks, halfway into January.
She and Cedric are sitting together near the Black Lake. It's the middle of the afternoon, it's chilly, and they're huddled together for warmth. Just warmth. Clearly. She's even smoking in broad daylight. Pansy wonders what Howler she'll get from her parents this week about it.
"What are you okay with being?" Cedric asks simply, as though he doesn't have the power to destroy her.
She glares. "We're clearly a pair of dumbasses. Fuck off and answer the question, Diggory."
He grins and pushes his cold nose into her neck so she blows smoke at him in retaliation.
"Well," Cedric finally says, tracing runes onto the back of her hand. "I thought we might be dating. If that's alright with you."
She's silent for a long moment. "It's the end of the world. I'm dating a Hufflepuff."
He bursts into happy giggles against her neck, pulling her against his chest in a hug. She only calls him a name once. She's going to cry so badly when this is all over.
-/
The Second Task is terrible and she's not just saying this because of how she was kept unconscious underwater for a day. It's terrible because Cedric gets clingy afterwards, as though if he looks away for a moment, she'll disappear back to the merpeople's clutches. At first Pansy had relished in it, wondering if he would be gone this time next year. After a week or two, though, it just got old.
The fight they have over it is their first and worst, she thinks.
Thankfully it ended with sinful make-up sex. Their first sex, actually. It's quite sweet, what Cedric set up, so she doesn't call him names too much.
-/
"Swear to me that you won't take the cup if you don't have to," she had begged the night before. "Promise me, Cedric. Please."
She's crying over his dead body alongside Mr. Diggory less than 24 hours later whilst Harry Potter gets dragged off by Not-Moody. Why did she ever think she could save him?
A wand for revolutionaries, Ollivander had said. Fuck revolution. She was starting anarchy.
