Dinner was a horrifically awkward affair. There was complete silence, save for the clink of cutlery and the sound of people chewing. Pansy had to admit that the food wasn't bad. Actually, it was good. Roast chicken and potatoes in some kind of sauce, crunchy green vegetables and carrots. Maybe it wasn't expensive, but it was delicious. But she wouldn't say anything. After all, she was a pureblood. These muggles didn't deserve her praise. But she didn't exactly think that she deserved theirs either. She had been told that she was better than muggles and mudbloods for her entire life, and she still thought so, but she was being intentionally being a complete bitch. And common decency counted for something, right? Just because someone was a pureblood, didn't mean they were nice, or cool, or important. Just vaguely better.

As Hermione's parents were both dentists, they seemed very concerned about the amount of sugar Pansy began to put in her tea after the meal had been eaten. At one spoonful, Pansy received only a disapproving look from Mr. Granger. However, by the time she reached three, she was only waiting for a reaction. She didn't know why, but something about it felt right. No. Not right. Just good. She might be staying with muggles and mudbloods, but she was still a Slytherin. Eyes scanning the faces of the others at the table, Pansy proceeded to dump seven teaspoons of sugar into her cup. Mrs. Granger cleared her throat noticeably. Mr. Granger started to say something angrily but thought better of it. Hermione just stared, seemingly lost in the kind of horrified fascination that you normally experience during a horror movie. Smirking, Pansy dumped in an eighth teaspoon with relish. Then a ninth. Her tea spilled onto the tablecloth as the cup filled with more and more sugar. Every Granger's face was so red at this point that Pansy giggled. The mudblood and her parents were hilarious. She was at her twelfth teaspoon when Mr. Granger said firmly,

"Pansy, I don't think that's healthy. You're wasting the sugar."

Pansy rolled her eyes. A feeling of frustration began to overcome her. She was tired. She was annoyed at why she was even here. She hated the mudblood and her family of muggles and the way she was addicted to books and how she looked at Pansy with nothing but pity. Purebloods didn't need pity. They needed respect. Pansy smirked and grabbed the entire sugar bowl, dumping it into her cup with a plop. "Oops."

Tea stained the tablecloth brown, seeping toward the edges like a poisonous disease. "Darn." Pansy smirked. "Might need a new one. I'm going to bed." She rose from the table, taking in the gobsmacked faces of the Grangers, and marched toward the stairs. Maybe they hadn't deserved it. But no one got what they deserved, did they? Pansy was a pure blood, a good student, Draco's girlfriend for crying out loud, but she had still ended up here. She didn't deserve this. Her parents… she shook her head to clear the painful thoughts. Her parents didn't care. She was never enough.

Her room, she noticed immediately, was small. Everything else here was small, but this room was tiny. Miniscule. The size of a Hufflepuff's brain. She stifled a giggle. At that moment, however, something disturbing occurred to her. There were two beds. Since the only children here were her and the Granger girl, it seemed safe to assume that they were sharing a room. Ew. She couldn't believe it. How would she sleep? The mudblood might kill her. It was, after all, common knowledge that Pansy and Granger didn't get along. Why would Dumbledore have even sent her here? Were she and the mudblood supposed to bond over their mutual hatred for each other? Well, it wouldn't happen. Pansy located her snakeskin trunk and seized it furiously, lugging it into the hallway and slamming it onto the floor of outside the room. She then returned to the room and carried the blankets from one of the beds to her trunk, spreading them on top. There. She would sleep outside the room. They couldn't stop her.

Satisfied at her act of rebellion, Pansy crawled onto her trunk and pulled the blankets over her head. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, but definitely a very Slytherin move. Her parents would be proud of her now. Maybe. Maybe not. Whatever. Pansy tried to fit both of her legs onto the trunk and go to sleep, but while the trunk was a very large trunk, it was not a very large bed. Pansy cursed under her breath. "Ouch… Merlin!" She squealed as a cold metal buckle dug into her skin. "Ow ow ow ow ow!" She shifted again, this time falling clear off the trunk and onto the floor. Pansy scowled. Well, fine. She would just sleep beside her trunk. Curled in the blankets, Pansy found that sleep came easily. She was warm and tired, certainly, but there was something else. Something she couldn't put her wand on. She felt… safe. The Grangers might not be purebloods, but they wouldn't hurt her. It was with that confusing thought that she closed her eyes, yawned, and drifted off into warm darkness.

"Pansy!" The voice was eager, bright. "We've been waiting for you!" Pansy looked for the source of the voice, and found that she was no longer at the Grangers' house. She was home! It was the Parkinson Estate, from the manor that sprawled over the immaculate lawn to the patches of dark trees in the distance. Sunlight filtered through the branches of a tall pine grove beside her as Pansy inhaled the scent of spring. The voice sounded again. "Darling!" It was her mother, long dark hair flowing in an invisible wind, cheekbones sharp and eyes vibrant. Pansy walked toward her slowly.

"Mother?" She asked, the name strange on her tongue.

"Of course, darling!" Her mother smiled. "Where have you been?" Pansy found that the words coming out of her mouth made no sense. She couldn't control them.

"Playing in the garden, mother." Her mother nodded.

"Did you have fun?" Pansy grinned and blinked at the brightness of the day.

"Loads of fun! There are new wildflowers out. Pink and yellow." The sun shone hazily through the trees beside the house as her mother spoke again.

"Were you by yourself?" The imposing lady twiddled her wand between her fingertips. The sun disappeared. The air grew cold and thick, like dark, frozen honey. Pansy froze.

"O-of course, mother!" The woman's face changed until she no longer resembled Pansy's mother, but Pansy's father. Pansy gasped and tried to run backward, but her father laughed cruelly. This wasn't a dream anymore. This was a memory.

"Leg locking hex. Stunningly simple. You should have been able to block it, Pansy."

"I'm sorry father! I was by myself! I swear on the name of Salazar Slytherin!" Her father leered closer.

"Do you?" He grinned.

"I do! I do!" Pansy screamed hoarsely. "I'm sorry!"

"Then you disgrace the name of the greatest wizard ever to walk the earth." Her father laughed. "Crucio!" Pansy felt the blinding pain and tried to bolt, but her legs couldn't move and her heart was racing away, her eyes rolled back into her head and she couldn't breathe-

"Help me! Someone help me!" Pansy shrieked and sat bolt upright. Her nightmare, her memory, wouldn't leave her mind. "It hurts! Stop it, please!" Footsteps approached from the room beside her. Who was there? Pansy thrashed around, trying to see.

"Shhhh. It was just a bad dream." A soothing voice filled her ears. Pansy squirmed away.

"Leave m-me alone, G-granger!" She spat weakly. She didn't have the energy to argue. She felt someone hand her a mug of something. "N-no." She pushed it away lazily. "I don't w-want anything of y-yours, mudblood." Hermione sighed.

"Please, Pansy. I know you don't like me, but you're not okay. Just… just drink this. Then I'll go. Okay?" Pansy scowled.

"No. N-not a chance." Hermione sighed.

"Then I'm not going away."

"Fine."

"Okay." Hermione sat firmly beside the Slytherin, humming something.

"Shut up, Granger." Pansy muttered. Hermione gave her a look.

"No. Parkinson." Pansy was taken aback. She went quiet. She suddenly realized that she didn't want Hermione to go. Not that she wanted Hermione here, specifically, but just that she didn't want to be alone. "Please drink this?" The Gryffindor asked pleadingly. "Please?"

"Whatever." Pansy snarled. "But don't… don't… leave. Okay?" Hermione raised her eyebrows. "What, Granger?" Hermione giggled softly.

"Nothing." Pansy made out the traces of a smile on Granger's lips.

"Good."

The two girls sat quietly for the next hour, Hermione humming intermittently and occasionally asking if Pansy was okay. Pansy would snarl "Yes" in reply, but she mostly just stared ahead, trying to get that horrible memory out of her mind. The mug contained hot cocoa, as it turned out, which was delicious. As much as Pansy hated to admit it, Hermione had been right. She'd needed it badly. She still couldn't understand why Hermione wanted to help. Maybe she was just doing a good deed. But that was more than anyone in Slytherin had bothered to do for Pansy. And there was something about that, something that made her feel safe, that she didn't want to lose. She leaned softly into Hermione's shoulder and fell asleep. Who even cared? She could claim she didn't remember it in the morning.