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.
The setting of this story is drawn from my Draco/Hermione AU which can be found on my Deviantart account, and soon to be here. When I can work up the motivation and find the time.
Rating: T
part 4/4
Happy reading!
And a biscuit....
Pansy took up residence in Ron's house much as he had done in hers in France, the two of them engaging in the dance they perfected previously. Her mother came through the floo a few times to drop off clothes for her, making sure to sniff disparagingly at everything that Pansy allowed her to see, which admittedly wasn't much as Pansy didn't let her get more than two or three steps past the fireplace. Pansy didn't want to go home as the paparazzi were still parked on her front lawn and Draco's house contained Hermione and the other half of the press that weren't stalking her. Draco, predictable as always, showed up as an oncoming storm, with Hermione tugging on his hand urgently. As he lunged for Ron, Pansy neatly tripped him, sending him crashing into the bookshelves with a loud exclamation.
"Woman!" Draco shrieked manfully, climbing back out of the wreckage.
"Arrogant, self-obsessed, drama queen!" Pansy retorted, she paused to give Ron an aside of, "That was insulting." Before continuing to verbally abuse Draco. "Rotten tosspot of a psychologically induced cross breed!"
"That one didn't even make sense!" Draco howled, throwing a book at Pansy in frustration.
"It sounded good!" Pansy screeched back, throwing the book with much better aim, hitting him in the shoulder. Hermione squeaked and ducked for cover. Draco caught the book on the rebound and stared at Pansy for a moment.
"That it did. Now, can I have a hug?" Draco asked, putting out his hands.
"Fine. Though you know how I abhor bodily contact." Pansy said, submitting to the embrace with a long suffering look. Ron snorted loudly, thinking immediately about the fact that she had been sleeping draped on top of him for the last few hours and in response, Pansy trod heavily on his foot as she retreated from Draco's smothering love. Ron just barely managed to keep a strait face, and Pansy smiled sweetly.
"I was so worried about you." Draco said, helping Hermione up off of the floor where she had taken cover, a carryover from being on the run with Harry.
"Yes, well, the hideously overlarge gorilla has some uses. Apparently, taking care of me while I am completely incapable of coherent thought due to inebriation is one of them." Pansy patted Ron's arm softly, giving him a look that wasn't a glare, a vast improvement over how she usually treated him. Not quite the look of glowing adoration he would have liked, but Pansy didn't really seem the type. If he wanted that, he should have stuck with Marinè. "Don't think for one moment that I didn't know you were behind this, though."
"I await trembling, for reciprocity." Draco said, tipping a salute at her. Hermione rolled her eyes, well used to their banter and finding them hilarious only lasted until she was ten minutes late to their next appointment due to the fact that Draco was reluctant to leave until he got the last word.
"Check your bed, every night, sweetheart." Pansy warned, her tone saccharine as a honey glazed cinnamon role. She glanced at his girlfriend. "Sorry Hermione, no offense meant I assure you."
"None taken, but just remember, I sleep on the left." Hermione said, recalling the last time Pansy got angry at Draco and decided to do something about it. Crawling into bed and finding it full of chocolate frogs that were starting to melt as they wiggled around in the sheets was not the most pleasant thing in the world. "Darling, we have to get back to the house or we'll find it torn apart."
"Ron, my threat still stands." Draco warned, as Hermione shoved him back in the fire. He could be heard garbling 'Malfoy Manor', as she jumped in behind.
"Threat?" Pansy turned to Ron, quirking an eyebrow. "Is Draco pretending that he can protect me again?"
"Oh but give him credit, he tries so hard." Ron said, following Pansy into the kitchen as she began to clean up after the breakfast he'd cooked for her while she was regretting the fact that the concept of morning existed and was wailing away in his bed. Pansy washed the dishes and handed them to him with an expectant look on her face and merely looked pleased as he pulled out a dry towel with a sigh.
"I find a sort of visceral satisfaction in washing the dishes, but I do quite abhor drying, as it encourages drying of the skin on the hands." Pansy explained where not only two months ago she would have sniffed and turned the music up to drown him out. It was great progress. She even managed to smile at him as she handed him the last dish.
Five weeks later, she was still doing his dishes, sleeping in his bed and had, for all intensive purposes, moved in completely with half her clothes in his closet and her china migrating to his cabinets. He had plaintively asked if they had gotten married and he hadn't noticed or perhaps missed the ceremony and she replied that if so, she had missed when he asked, which was a rather large disappointment due to the fact that it would give her another golden opportunity to insult and mock him. When he looked at her speculatively, she choked out,
"Don't. Just don't."
And that was the end of it, as she refused to talk to him until he changed the subject. Then she was back to being petulant and selfish, ignoring the fact that this was actually his house and she couldn't treat him like she had in France. He rolled his eyes and played his part patiently, enjoying the view of her bustling about in her very short shorts that he never even knew she had and skimpy tanks that really didn't qualify as a shirt anymore, and showed off far more skin than really was needed. It also meant that he had some long serious discussions with himself in the bathroom and discovered a predilection for cold showers. Very long, very cold showers that were useless the minute she pranced past in her skimpy house wear. It got old quickly.
"Pansy, what are you doing?" Ron asked as she peeled back his covers to slide into his bed. He didn't mind per se, but it was getting frustrating having her curled around him and not being able to do anything about it. He had to roll his eyes back and count to ten as her leg brushed by a sensitive area so as not to do anything ungentlemanly. Then he had to repeat this as she did it again, just to watch his reaction with an evil chuckle.
"I am going to bed." She said, matter of factly, wiggling next to him like an eel in his bedcovers.
"I got that." Ron managed, breathlessly. He gulped and then continued with a steadier and more manly voice. "I meant here, in my apartment with me.
"Oh Ron," Pansy sighed, exasperated. She draped herself over his chest and stared up at him appealingly to wibble her bottom lip. "Can't you just leave well enough alone?"
"I have been leaving things alone. I have been leaving everything so alone that I'm about to go crazy!" Ron said, shoving Pansy off of him and lunging out of the bed. "And stop distracting me, I'm serious."
"Such a sad proposition, for you to be serious." Pansy said, sitting up and turning to put her back on the wall. She took his covers with her as she curled her legs in front of her, resting her elbows on her knees, completing the destruction of his carefully made bed that she knew drove him up a wall. She stared at his face for a moment and then kicked the corner, dislodging the sheet in a fit of pique. Ron covered his eyes and breathed through his nose for a few seconds to regain his composure. "Sad and futile endeavor."
"Pansy." Ron began, "This is about you and me, and no more maybes. I can't stay in this state of almost."
Pansy opened her mouth, then shut it. She looked at him appraisingly, holding her head up with her hand. "I don't understand."
"I love you, Pansy." Ron said it easily, like he'd been thinking it for a long time, brewing it in the back of his brain until it bubbled out his mouth. Pansy's head dropped off of her hand and stared at him, her mouth opening into a soft "o". "I do, and so this halfway living is...difficult."
"I'm sure." Pansy said, getting over her shock to let a small smile curl her mouth. She propped her head back up on her hand and cocked it to the side.
"Yes. So I need an answer, are we together? Call it dating or courting or just together, I don't care." Ron fidgeted his fingers together for a moment as Pansy stared at him. He paused and then stared hard at her. "Can I kiss you?"
"I don't know about the together part, but yes, Ron Weasley, you can kiss me." She said slowly, reaching out a hand, palm up to pull him back on to the bed with her.
"Thank merlin." Ron said fervently, practically leaping onto the covers. He cradled her face in his hands, pressing her against the wall as his lips crashed onto hers in wild enthusiasm. She made a whimpering noise in the back of her throat, and tried to squirm away. Ron, realizing that crushing her was not in his best interests, gathered her up in his arms and fell backward, bringing her to lay on his chest, completely unrestricted. After that, Pansy was able to calm down, knowing that if she wanted to escape, he would let her, and really didn't have much of a way to stop her. She broke the kiss to lay her forehead on his chin for a moment.
"Ron Weasley, you are a overlarge, redhaired buffoon of a gorilla," Pansy began and Ron rumbled in protest. "However, I am willing to accept that you may, and I stress the conditional property of the word may, have some redeeming properties."
Ron didn't say a word, he just lifted her chin so she could look into his eyes and let the biggest, goofiest grin break open on his face. Pansy couldn't help but laugh as his freckled nose scrunched and his cheeks puffed outward from stretched skin. She poked his cheeks with a sharp fingernail and then put her head back on his chest.
"You look like an idiot. But I love you anyway." Pansy's voice was muffled.
"I am an idiot, I like you don't I?"
"I'm going to hurt you."
"Not there!" Ron's voice rose half an octave. "Not there!"
Pansy chuckled.
When the Media got hold of their whirlwind romance, Pansy and Ron were dogged continuously for the details, as it was rather hard to ignore the fact that eligible bachelor Ron Weasley and socialite Pansy Parkinson had abruptly moved in with each other and subsequently filed for marriage, but amazingly enough, no one seemed to have the details. The two of them were surprisingly tight lipped about the whole affair and when asked directly,
"What exactly happened between you and millionaire Ron Weasley?" The reporter asked easily, shoving a spelled quill under Pansy's nose. Pansy chuckled evilly and then revealed,
"You see, this is all an elaborate and diabolical plan involving Draco, Hermione, Ron and me in which Draco and I will corrupt all of the spawn of said unions." She confided, pouring herself another tumbler of brandy and peppermint. She was wearing her favorite red dress, after the one she burned after the fiasco with Pierre. "It's a pity really that Harry is quite fond of Ginny as he remains incorruptible and he looks rather fetching with no shirt. Getting his incessantly noble genes out of the pool would make it fathoms easier for the next dark lord, but two out of three isn't bad. And there's always the children, I'm sure that we can breed the good out of them with Draco's hellions."
At which point Ron wandered over and indulgently took her brandy away before covering her mouth and whisking her off to dance. As he twirled her gracefully, she threw back her head to laugh. Ron and Pansy were determinately, stubbornly happy and when asked, there was no one that could deny that they were an unexpectedly ideal match.