A/N – I've been so excited to share this chapter with everyone, it's a monster and nearly double the regular length but I hope you like it! Thank you again and again for the comments, messages on Tumblr, and just general excitement for the story. 3 chapters left after today!
Updates are every Sunday
December 1994
Year 4
"I can't believe Abigail showed up in orange." The corner of Pansy's lips twitched up. "The saddest part of it was Sophia thought that she was any better off, poor thing. She tried to tell me that orange was worse than purple, and then I told Sophia that she is not a winter with that skin tone. Honestly, how someone can get to be our age with zero understanding of fashion is beyond me!"
Pansy fought back a laugh, looking to Draco for his agreement as they followed the path from the Great Hall to the dungeons. When he did not respond, she continued. "She would be better off in a burlap sack, not that you could tell the difference between that and her gown tonight."
Draco nodded slowly, his eyes scanning the students in the corridor as if he were looking for something. Or someone.
"Pansy." Draco turned abruptly to her, his attention obviously elsewhere. "I forgot something I borrowed from Theo back in the Great Hall. I'll meet you in the Common Room soon?"
Her voice took on that airy quality of submissiveness that her mother used when her father had too much Firewhisky. "Of course, Draco. I'll be waiting." Pansy winked before joining a random group of students passing by.
Once he was out of sight, Pansy stopped, allowing the cluster of students to leave her behind as they disappeared around the corner.
Draco's words made no sense to Pansy. The only thing Draco brought with him were his dress robes, not even his wand. Pansy had been disappointed to realise that he had not remembered to bring her flowers. It seemed like such a simple request and Pansy had done everything to ensure he would remember. She had specifically asked him for flowers, selected her dress early, and provided a swatch of fabric in the same colour to give to Draco for his reference.
It was important to her, and yet he had still forgotten.
Not only had he overlooked her only request, he had seemed distracted and inattentive all night. She had spent hours getting ready and making sure there was not a single hair out of place. He had not even noticed; he had not complimented her once.
The most fun she had was when they were dancing, though she had wondered why his eyes kept drifting away from her and into the crowd. As they moved around the dance floor, his face had held a look of discomfort, but Pansy had plastered on her polite smile, the one her mother taught her to maintain around wizards. Draco had been the one to approach her and ask her to the dance. Why would he have bothered if he was not interested?
Unless the witch he actually fancied already had a date and Pansy was a consolation prize.
Pansy's heart began to pound as her anger grew. She could have attended the Ball with a date who was interested in her, but instead she wasted her night with a bloke who could not have cared less. Making up her mind, she decided to follow Draco and see who he was meeting.
Her pace increased as she looped down one corridor to another. Cursing herself silently, she regretted waiting so long to try and follow him. She lost the trail and had taken a wrong turn. As she turned another corner, she lost her balance and her heel wedged into a small crevice in the stone flooring, snapping on impact.
"UGH!" Pansy let out a sound of pure frustration as she ripped off her broken shoe and threw it as far as she could, it clattered against the hard floor.
"'Mione?" The word bounced down the empty corridor. "I'm a real prat. I'm sorry."
Moments later, Ron Weasley approached her from out of the shadows, carrying her shoe in his hand.
"Oh…Pansy…I think you dropped this." The corner of his lip twitched as if he was trying not to laugh.
Pansy ripped the shoe from his hands, barely resisting the urge to snarl at him. "I didn't drop it."
His brows disappeared behind his red fringe. "Okay. Whatever you say."
"Don't look at me like that." Pansy frowned. "Like you feel sorry for me. Your dress robes are hideous—you're not allowed to laugh at me while you look like that."
The tips of Ron's ears grew pink, and it was adorable.
"There isn't much else you could add that I wouldn't have already heard after my night." Looking down at himself, he laughed, the sound low and warm. "They are pretty hideous, aren't they?"
Pansy blinked.
"My mum sent them," he explained with a grimace. "It looks like a sort of dress. Not even the good kind, like yours."
"Like mine?"
His head cocked slightly as his eyes trailed down her body. Pansy's breath caught in her throat under his gaze.
"Yeah. I like the snowflakes." Ron's heated eyes met hers.
"You like the snowflakes." She could not stop repeating his words.
When he took a step forward, she took a step back in a sort of strange dance.
"And your hair. It's usually straight, but tonight it's curly. It looks nice."
He noticed. When even her own date ignored her the entire night, Ron Weasley had noticed her.
"I…" she faltered. "I wanted it curly because flowers don't stay in straight hair very well. Even with magic."
Ron's eyes paused in her hair. "But you aren't wearing a flower."
"Very astute." Her arms crossed in annoyance.
Fumbling, he pulled out his wand and waved it, producing a single purple pansy.
Her mouth fell open, and she heard her mother's chastisement in her head about looking so unladylike.
"My dad does that spell for my mum all the time." His grin widened. "I don't know how to make any other colour but purple, though."
Pansy could not recall a time her father had ever done anything sweet for her mother.
"Your father makes pansies for your mother?"
He nodded, which jostled the piles of lace on the front of his robes. "They're Mum's favourite flower. Isn't that why your mum named you Pansy? It's her favourite flower?"
Her voice caught in her throat. "No." She raised her chin slightly. "Mother thought it was a delicate and feminine name for a submissive daughter. A pretty little flower to fade into the background in her place."
His brow creased as he inspected her. "Delicate? Submissive? Mum always said the name means 'thought'. I'd say your mum named you correctly for that. You don't need anyone to think for you. And you are pretty, but I've never once seen you fade into the background of anything."
This time, when Ron took another step closer, she did not move back. Looking into his deep blue eyes, she was completely spellbound. He tucked the single flower into her hair, settling it between her perfectly pinned curls. She was sure that he had ruined a section of her hair, but she had never cared about anything less.
As her mind fell blank, her breathing grew shallow; she had just finished a date with the most eligible Pureblood heir in their year and now she was alone in a dark corridor with Ron Weasley.
How did she end up here?
He was so close now, his chest almost pressed against hers. Before her mind could process her actions, she tilted her head up towards him, inviting him closer.
The abandoned shoe pressed into her hands as he gave her a boyish smile. Her breath caught at the sight.
"Goodnight, Pansy." His breath tickled her cheek as he turned and left her standing in the corridor, clutching her broken shoe against her chest, wondering what had just happened.
January 1994
Year 4
Pansy never did figure out how she went from a promising courtship with Draco Malfoy to obsessing over that idiotic red-haired Ron Weasley. Every night for an entire week, Pansy had dreams of their encounter after the Yule Ball. In every dream, she ended up snogging Ron senseless and woke up more confused than ever.
She pushed the thought from her mind, ignoring the purple pansy that she had preserved and stored in her nightstand.
It was then that Pansy decided to do what her mother had taught her. Push down the unpleasant feelings that came from suppressing her instincts and follow through with her duty. Since the moment she could walk and talk, her parents had trained her in the art of seducing a proper spouse.
'Do not slouch! A man will never notice you if you slouch like a slob.'
'Your face should always wear a smile. You have enough trouble looking pretty without that scowl.'
'Light on your feet, dear! You cannot clobber around like a newborn calf.'
'A man will determine who you become, your place in the world. You cannot afford to be yourself.'
The rules went on and on, increasing in detail as she grew older. When her parents bid her farewell for her first day of school, Pansy overheard several parents telling their children to have fun, to go learn, and that they loved them.
Her mother told her to look out for suitable pureblood husbands.
After the Ball, Pansy had been clobbering around the hallway with one heel, scowling, and slouching in her dress. Even still, Ron Weasley had complimented her. He said she was pretty and did not need someone to think for her. It went against everything her mother had ever told her. Pansy had been the perfect date for Draco the entire night—she had laughed at his jokes but not too loudly, walked lightly and swayed her hips just enough with each step, and had not stopped smiling the entire night.
Either way, Ron Weasley was the absolute worst option for Pansy.
Her mother had insisted that she pursue men who were rich, well-connected, and the sole heir to their family name. Though he was a Pureblood, the Weasleys were notoriously low on funds, had little to no connections in the Wizarding World, and Ron was the youngest male in his family. His only saving grace was that his family was in the Sacred Twenty-Eight, though some argued they should be excluded due to their social affiliation with Muggleborns.
As a result, Pansy decided to double-down on her efforts to capture Draco's attention. If Draco would just look at her like Ron had, she could easily forget Ron and happily move on to a courtship, formal engagement, and marriage with Draco.
Pansy Malfoy. That had a nice ring to it, she supposed.
Pansy Weasley. Now that sounded ridiculous. And maybe just a little sweet.
During meals, she began to sit as close to Draco as she could, ignoring the flash of red hair across the Great Hall at the Gryffindor table. Why did Draco have to sit in a seat that faced the Gryffindor table?
Halfway through the meal, he still had not even bothered to look at her as she grew increasingly despondent, rambling about topics she could not care less about, but that she knew he enjoyed. She felt Ron's eyes on her as she moved closer to Draco, looping her arm through his and running her fingers through his hair. Draco would never pay attention to her with so many distractions around them at the Slytherin table.
"Maybe we could go back to the Common Room?" She tried to sound light and flirty, though her voice felt strained. "Somewhere more private?"
All of a sudden, the glassware down the entire Slytherin table burst into pieces, littering the table and floor. Squealing, Pansy leapt away from the table, looking around to see if anything else on the table was in danger of exploding.
"It's okay, Pans." Draco tried to console her but looked dazed and pale. "It looks like it didn't hurt anyone."
"Honestly, if any Slytherin did this to another house, we would be in so much trouble. But a Slytherin would've thought of a much better prank than breaking some glass." A sharp sliver of glass fell out of her hair as she shook it out and raked her fingers through it.
By the time she looked up, Draco was gone.
September 1995
Year 5
After a summer home with her parents, Pansy was more than enthused to return to school. Her summer had consisted of constant beratement by her mother for losing the attention of Draco Malfoy and a refresher on her etiquette lessons. Even when she insisted that she was too young to worry about who to marry, her mother chastised her for her lack of foresight.
'You need to find a man before they are all taken. Then you will get him to propose at your Hogwarts graduation. After an acceptable engagement period, you will get married and start producing heirs. It is not as if you are good for anything else.'
When Pansy had received the Prefect badge in the post, she had to hide it from her parents. Instead of showing pride at her accomplishment, they would have told her that she was wasting her time prioritising schoolwork.
Once her mother bid her goodbye and Pansy boarded the Hogwarts Express, she paused in the entryway, pulling out her Prefect badge and clipping it to her robes with pride. The Prefect compartment was empty, and she settled herself into the window seat. After a summer with her mother, she relished the silence.
Draco opened the door shortly after, giving her a small nod of acknowledgement as he tucked his bag in the overhead storage. The door opened again and Pansy's eyes widened at the sight. Her stomach flipped and she hated herself for it.
Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger stood in the entryway of the Prefects' carriage together, a pair of matching badges on their robes.
She had to stop these feelings before they became something real.
"Looks like they scraped the bottom of the barrel for the Gryffindor Prefects this year." She forced her nastiest look as she glared at the two arrivals.
The look of confusion and hurt on Ron's face made her stomach sink with guilt. He opened his mouth to respond but Hermione cut him off and held his arm. Pansy's eyes bore a hole into Hermione's hand.
"Ronald, stop. We're Prefects now; she's not worth it."
Ronald. Pansy wanted to throw her badge at Hermione's stupid face.
Turning back to Draco, she tried to raise her voice and get Ron's attention. "I'm not the least bit surprised we were both selected. We are obviously the best in our year. Quite the power couple, if I do say so myself. It'll be fun having all that alone time to patrol together."
Looking out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ron's glare as he watched them.
She fought back the smile of satisfaction that threatened to surface.
After Pansy and Draco led the first year orientation in the Slytherin dorms, Pansy decided to continue her plan to win back Draco's attention. Checking herself in the mirror, she admired her blouse; it was a deep blue colour that Draco had once mentioned liking. Everything was perfectly in place.
Rallying her last bit of courage, she knocked on Draco's door. Seconds after she finished knocking, the door opened quickly, as if he had been waiting for her.
"Oh! Draco."
Draco sighed, looking annoyed. "What do you want now, Pansy? Does one of the first years need help again?"
"No, they are all in their rooms." She tried to look up at him through her lashes the way her mother coached her. "It's been such a long first day. I thought you might want to have a nightcap and talk about our Prefect duties together for the year."
He pulled away. "We can talk about Prefect duties during the weekly Prefect meetings."
A gnawing grew in her stomach.
Maybe he did not like that she was a Prefect with him?
'Men do not like smart witches. You have to let him take charge and be a man. Let him know that you need him.'
"Drakey, what happened to us? Is there someone else? Who is she?" Pansy tried to soften her features.
"There doesn't have to be someone else, Pansy."
I saw you looking for her at the Ball, Pansy wanted to say but the words died in her throat.
"Well, obviously something changed. One moment we were dating and then I don't hear from you for months and now you do nothing but push me away. You're always busy and no one ever knows where you are. Who is she?"
"There is no one else. Can't a bloke just change his mind? Ever think it might be because of you?"
His words hurt even more knowing that it was just that he did not want her. Pansy's eyes burned with tears of rejection. Her mother would think her useless if she were here.
"I've known you since we could walk, you think I can't tell there's someone else? I'll figure it out. You can't hide her forever. And you know, you're the one who pursued me. You asked me to the Yule ball and now you're acting like I'm some pathetic girl following you around. You could do a lot worse than me, Draco Malfoy." The words flew out of her mouth as she stormed away from his room, tears spilling over and falling down her cheeks.
It was obvious that Pansy had completely misread the signs and Draco was not secretly chasing after another witch. If he chose another woman, it would have been disappointing, but the fact that he was single and still did not want her left her gutted.
'It is not as if you are good for anything else.' Her mother's words rang in her mind.
Pansy wandered out into the corridors of the dungeons, wrapping her arms around herself as she traipsed through the empty halls, trying to clear her head.
A silhouette stood at the end of the hall, looking out the window at the night sky. Despite her best judgement, Pansy continued her path towards the figure. By the time she figured out it was Ron Weasley, she was far too close to turn around and leave.
Glancing over his shoulder, Ron looked unsurprised as he made eye contact with Pansy. "Why did you say that this morning on the train?"
Pansy's lower lip quivered, she tried to steady it. "I… had a bad summer. It was mainly my mother. I suppose I was taking it out on you." Her voice wavered. "I'm sorry."
Ron's eyes opened wide with her words. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing. Nothing new, anyway."
He took another step closer.
"No one wants me." Just as she started to cry, her arms tightened around herself.
"Bloody hell," he murmured under his breath. "Just—" In a few long strides, he caught up to Pansy and pulled her into a hug.
Stiffening, she was unsure of how to react. He was warm and safe, and he smelled like vanilla; she sank into his arms, wrapping hers around his torso.
"I know for an absolute fact that that isn't true." It was evident that he was unused to providing comfort because he patted her head as he hugged her.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her face pressed against his chest, muffling her laughs.
"I'm comforting you. See? You just laughed. I'm considered an expert in my field."
She heard the smile in his voice, and it sounded like sunshine. Pansy wanted to bask in it until she forgot everything that came before this moment.
"Well, keep this up and I'll make sure to refer your services," Pansy teased, still holding on to him.
"Now, don't do that. I doubt anyone else could afford my fees." Ron's hand, which had been tapping her head awkwardly, now cradled the back of her skull, slipping into her hair. "I charge a premium after hours. You only get the discount because you're so cute."
Pansy fought down the feeling in her chest, threatening to push out the words. "You're cute too."
Fuck.
She'd said it out loud.
Before she could take it back, Ron had dipped his head down to her, pressing his lips against hers.
She could do this; she could give herself tonight.
Raising on the tip of her toes, she pulled herself flush against him, kissing him like it was the only chance she had.
"I hope you know I was kidding about the money part—"
"—Just shut up and kiss me."
Ron grinned, looking at her like she was the only woman in the world.
November 1995
Year 5
"I told you, Ron. It was a one-time thing," Pansy hissed under her breath, stalking down the third floor corridor.
"By my count, it's been at least four," Ron corrected with a smirk.
"I have better things to do on a Saturday night than…whatever this is." She waved her arms in the air at the words.
Ron scoffed, his long legs easily keeping up with her increased pace. "You can't act like we keep coming together by accident. It's got to be something bigger than that. Don't you think?"
He reached for her hand and she stopped suddenly, looking around them. "We can't talk out here." Her eyes scanned the hall, spotting the tapestry that covered the old storage closet. "The tapestry is usually clear this time of night."
Just as she began to lift the tapestry cover, a voice pulled her attention away. "Excuse me, you're a Prefect, right?"
"Yes, of course I am. Why?" Pansy shared a look with Ron as the petite blonde Hufflepuff rambled.
"I saw some third year Gryffindors in front of the Great Hall trying to enchant the hourglasses to add extra gems and get Gryffindor house more points, something about wanting to humiliate Slytherin house."
"What?!" Pansy glared at Ron as if he were personally responsible. "Absolutely not, if those Gryffindors think they can get away with it they have another thing coming. Ridiculous. Draco and Granger are supposed to be on patrol tonight. How did they miss points tampering?"
Ron followed behind her as she trailed down the hall. "I don't know. Maybe they're on another floor. Pansy, are you going to talk to me?"
"No." Her tone grew cold. "I have to attend to some Gryffindors who think they can be in places they don't belong."
She continued her path, not looking back as Ron faded into the distance.
February 1996
Year 5
Pansy was supposed to be on patrol with Ernie Macmillan, but instead a familiar tall redhead made his way around the corner to meet her.
"What are you doing here?" Her mouth ran dry.
"Ernie has a date with some Hufflepuff a year below us. He messed up Valentine's Day and she's giving him another shot."
Her expression did not change as she watched him approach her. It was not only the weekend after Valentine's Day, but it was the weekend after she found out Ron took Lavender Brown on a date for Valentine's Day.
Since Pansy had dismissed him and pushed him away last November, she had yet to have another interaction with Ron outside of classes. She told herself it was for the best, and that this was what she had wanted.
During the day, it made her equal parts happy and sad that he listened to her. At night, it only made her sad.
In theory, she knew that he would move on and date, but in practice, she hated seeing him smile at someone else the way he had smiled at her. Ron scrunched his face in an endearing way that made Pansy want to grab his cheeks.
"Are you ready for rounds?"
Nodding numbly, she started down the standard route for their Prefect checks.
"So, how was your date?" The bitter question slipped out; her filter had been left back in the Slytherin dorms.
Ron mumbled incoherently.
"That bad, huh?"
Halting mid-step, he took her arm and stopped her. "Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?" she asked, knowing the answer.
"Why are you kissing me and then pushing me away and then you give me those eyes like I've hurt you? I don't know what to do," he rambled. "I want you and you don't want me, and I don't know why you're stopping me from trying to find someone who likes me."
Pansy bit her lip, trying to stop it from trembling. "But I do want you," she whispered so softly she was not even sure he could hear her.
"Pansy."
The way he breathed her name made her soul ache.
"Did you kiss her?"
Ron closed his eyes.
"Oh."
Shaking his head, he clarified. "I didn't kiss her. I had other things on my mind. I left the date early."
"Oh." Pansy tried to think of something else to say—anything else to say.
He looked down at his feet, scuffing his shoe against the floor. "I don't know how to get you out of my head."
When he looked back up at her, he gave her that look—the look that Pansy had been afraid was gone forever—and she grabbed his tie, yanking it until his lips collided with hers.
His hands held onto her hips, soft yet unyielding. He lifted her effortlessly and her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, her arms anchoring her in place around his neck. Their lips moved frantically against each other, his tongue teasing hers and drawing out a small whimper.
A low groan rumbled against her chest. She could drink that sound.
Just tonight, she told herself.
March 1996
Year 5
"I've been doing some research," Ron started, pulling his wand from his cloak.
Pansy smiled widely, not worrying or caring about trying to smile perfectly for him. He seemed to like her any way she came. Pansy ran her hand through his hair. "Spending too much time with Hermione Granger, are you?"
He shrugged. "Not really, she seems to be in the library a lot, poor girl. She doesn't have someone like I do. It's just her and her books. But I spoke with Professor Sprout—who, by the way, is very nosy—and I think I have this right."
"Have what right?"
Furrowing his brow in concentration, Ron flicked his wand, producing an entire bouquet of white pansies.
Pansy felt her face light up as he presented her the bouquet. "Ron!"
"So, apparently flowers have a name meaning but also a colour meaning." He stumbled over the words. "And there are a lot of colours, like red and purple mean passion, or blue means calm or maybe trust, I don't remember anymore."
She cocked her head, wondering where he was going with this information.
"And white means let's take a chance."
Her mind stuttered, looking into his hopeful eyes. "Take a chance on us?"
Nodding, he pressed a kiss to her lips. When he pulled away, his eyes looked between hers. "Take a chance on me. What do you say?"
Blinking away the tears that formed and pooled in the corner of her eyes, she nodded in return. "Yes!"
Pansy woke up, far too hot and in a bed with scratchy blankets. Cracking her eyes open, she took in the overwhelming amount of red and gold that surrounded her. Fucking Gryffindors. Her eyes shot open. She turned to face a stretching Ron who gave her a wide sleepy smile. Sitting up immediately, she began to panic; they had been up so late talking the night before, she must have fallen asleep.
"What are you doing?" his sleepy voice asked, wrapping an arm around her waist, and pulling her back down to him. "Come back to sleep."
Her hands flew over her face, her cheeks heating in embarrassment.
One by one, he pried her hands away and laid lazy kisses on her cheeks. "What's wrong?"
"I just… What if your dorm mates hear us?" she deflected, trying to think of a reason to leave.
"The curtains are charmed shut and silenced; they won't hear a thing. Otherwise they would have heard us talking all night." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
"But—I—ugh." She closed her eyes in defeat. "I'm a mess. I'm here with morning breath and I haven't had the chance to set any of my hair or makeup spells."
Ron snorted before leaning up on his elbow. "That's ridiculous and I can't even tell. I've never seen anyone look so good in the morning."
Smoothing her hair down, she glared at him. "I'm not a child to placate. You don't have to lie to me. 'Anyone who will settle for less than perfect has already accepted failure' is what my mother always says."
His head cocked in a curious manner and Pansy had to stop herself from kissing him again. "Why would you want to be perfect? That's boring."
Pansy's eyes narrowed. "It's all I've ever been raised to be. If I'm not, then I'm—I don't know what I am."
"Then you're Pansy."
"Maybe I don't want to be Pansy." Her voice felt small. She had never said the words out loud before.
Ron's grin faded into a frown. "I don't like it when you do that."
"Do what?"
"Talk about yourself like that. I wish you could know what I know."
Tugging the blanket tight around her, she looked at Ron from the corner of her eye. "What do you know?"
His brows pushed together as he thought. "I'm not… I'm not good with words, Pansy."
"You don't have to say anything. I shouldn't have asked."
"No. It's just I don't have enough words to say it. You drive me barmy, honestly. But in a good way. Like my brain goes a bit fuzzy when I look at you—but I like it."
An incredulous giggle bubbled up in her chest and, for a moment, she forgot all about her disheveled appearance. "What?"
"I know you try to act like nothing bothers you even when it does because of your family, and your mum tries to force you into this mold, but you don't belong there, and you never have. She thinks there's a place in this world waiting for you, just an empty space standing next to a man but anyone who truly knows you knows that it's a ridiculous idea because you can stand on your own. You're smart in classes but also with people, and you know almost everything about anything, even stuff like the right way to hold a spoon—which I had no idea there was a wrong way."
Pansy tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat as he continued. "And I know you deserve so much better than the life you're told to live."
"I thought you said you weren't good with words." She blinked away the mist in her eyes with a laugh.
"Maybe you bring it out in me, Pansy Parkinson." He grinned. "Maybe I'm just better with you."
Her stomach fluttered at the thought. Without a care about her skin, hair, or messy clothes, Pansy focused on the moment. She soaked in the feeling of Ron as she laid in his arms, right where she belonged.
April 1996
Year 5
"Are you sure?" Ron asked, squeezing his eyes shut in a bid to regain control as his hands rested on her bare waist.
"Of course, I'm sure. I didn't sneak you into my private suite just to chat. You think too much," she admonished, wiggling her hips against his erection.
Choking back a laugh, Ron replied, "Please tell that to Hermione; she'd never believe anyone said that about me."
Tossing him a look, Pansy crossed her arms. "You have a mostly naked witch on top of you and you're going to talk about Hermione Granger?"
He hooked his arms around her, shifting his weight and flipping her beneath him. She arched her back in response, rotating her hips and pressing him against her heated core.
"Bloody hell. You're going to be the death of me." His hair was wild, his face flushed, and his lips kissed red.
Grinning, Pansy unhooked her bra and tossed it to the floor. "Is that a complaint?"
"Absolutely not." Ron's eyes widened, looking from her chest to her face and back. "I'll die a happy man."
"I nearly forgot—" Ron sat up, reaching into his bag and retrieving a box. "I saw this at the last Hogsmeade trip and I thought of you and I know it's not nearly as grand as what you're used to but I thought you might like it and…here."
Pansy arched a brow at his rambling, her lips pulling into a smile. It was such an endearing quality; he was genuine and sweet, he stumbled over his words yet somehow always knew the right thing to say. He was nothing like the wizards her mother told her to pursue, but Pansy found she liked that. She accepted the black box from him and pried open the top.
Sitting inside was a simple gold bracelet. Turning the bracelet towards her, he pointed out the inscription. Take a chance on me.
Frozen in place, Pansy simply looked at the gift, trying to process how she felt in that moment.
"I know it's not much, but I've been repairing old brooms and saving up the money for a while and I just thought it would look so nice on your wrist." His voice grew slightly frantic, as if he thought she would run away.
Pansy had thousands of Galleons worth of jewelry from her family vaults but this outshone them all. It was plain with no discernable jewels or design, but in that moment, it was the most beautiful bracelet she had ever seen.
"I love it." Her voice came out a whisper as she silently added the rest. I love you.
May 1996
Year 5
"What do you do for fun?"
Her head tilted back as she considered the question. "I… don't really know."
"How do you not know?" Ron laughed, as if she were joking.
An uncomfortable feeling set in her stomach. "I know how to host events—everything from proper seating etiquette to how to pair the right wine with a meal. I can tend to flowers, or care for children. I'm good at it; my governess used to give me compliments on my ability to make something bloom from nothing."
"Those are things your mum makes you learn?" His eyes skated across her face.
"They are things she learned from her mother who learned from her mother and so on. It's all she knows. It's the life of a woman in the Sacred Twenty-Eight."
Ron made a noncommittal sound. "My mum grew up with traditional purebloods—the Prewetts—but I don't think she had to learn those. She does a lot of cooking and knitting. She does have some flowers but they're maintained by my dad more often."
Stories of the Wealseys and their unconventional ways were maliciously whispered under the breaths of the families in her social circle. Pansy had mocked them along with her peers. The memory filled her with guilt.
"She sounds lovely."
"She really is, and who knows? Maybe one day Mum will knit you a sweater of your own." He grinned, his eyes crinkled at the corners and it was delightful.
A small snort slipped out before she could stop herself. Her hands flew over her face in embarrassment. "Circe, I will not be wearing a handmade sweater!"
"Blimey, just when I think you can't be more adorable."
She split her fingers over her face and peered through the gap. "Only you would think something so appalling is adorable, Ron Weasley."
"Funny, my mum says the same thing about my brother, Charlie. He's a dragon tamer, thinks they're cute even when they're eating goats."
Her hands settled in her lap. "It's easy to forget that you have so many siblings when it's just us."
"I wish I could forget! Try being the sixth boy." Ron grimaced. "Pretty much everything of mine is secondhand; believe me when I say that I didn't wear that dress to the Yule Ball as a fashion statement."
Pansy forced down a laugh. "I didn't think so. I can't even imagine having that many siblings. In fact, I can't imagine having a single sibling."
"It's really loud, nothing is ever truly yours, and someone is there to torture you at all times."
"That doesn't sound too bad," she admitted. "I used to ask my mother for a sister when I was young."
"What did she say?"
She looked away, regretting having mentioned it. "She said she didn't want another daughter and that she hadn't wanted the first one to begin with, that I should've been born male—a true heir. She wasn't able to have more babies after me. I 'ruined' her and she nearly died during birth."
"Bloody hell. Your mum sounds like a nightmare. How did you end up so normal?"
"Who knows?" A smile tugged at her lips. "Maybe I'm better with you."
June 1996
Year 5
Storming into the room, Pansy tossed her robe and bag onto the ground, grinning at Ron who was waiting in her bed. "I've had a shit day and all I want is for you to make me forget everything but your name." Pansy tugged off her blouse and leapt onto her bed, tackling Ron and pinning him down.
"Pansy," he mumbled between kisses. "Pansy!"
She was half-way to unbuttoning his shirt before she stopped. "What? It's nothing I haven't seen before."
"Be my girlfriend?" Ron asked, balancing up on his palms and looking at her with those eyes.
The air sank out of her lungs. "What?"
"My girlfriend," he repeated seriously. "I don't like that we've been doing this in secret and I want you to be my girlfriend."
She could not find the words, so she sat there helpless as he resumed.
"I want to show you off, bring you to Hogsmeade for a real date. We can go to that stuffy tea place you're always on about, or I can watch you pick outfits for hours and tell you that you look nice in all of them and you'll roll your eyes at me, or we can get ice cream and you can tease me for liking cherry flavoured ice cream but still steal a bite of it anyway because you're obsessed with sweets." He paused his ramble, breathless. "I want to be together."
Pansy's shoulders deflated as she pursed her lips, thinking.
"I can't keep doing this." Ron's voice grew small. "I need all of you or none of you."
You have all of me, she wanted to cry at the thought.
"Is this an ultimatum?" she asked quietly, climbing off him and out of the bed. The air chilled around her, causing goosebumps to form.
His gaze lowered as he nodded.
Tears pricked at her eyes as she snagged her blouse from the floor and tugged it back over her head. "I suppose that means we're done then. You've always known who I am—what I have to be. I can't give you what you need. What you deserve. Might as well end this before one of us does something idiotic and falls in love."
She ran out of the room before she could see the look on his face, the one she knew would break her heart.
September-June 1996-1997
Year 6
Part of Pansy knew that she was being completely unfair, but another part of her did not care. She blamed Ron for her pain. If he had been content to keep with their status quo, she could have continued like that until the day she died. Though she supposed she had only been prolonging the inevitable. They never would have ended up together and to imagine otherwise would have been a childish fantasy.
That is why when Pansy returned to school the following year, she proudly told anyone who asked that she spent a significant amount of time at Malfoy Manor over the summer. Which was not technically a lie; she had been there with her father for his meetings with the Dark Lord's followers. If people took that information and made sweeping assumptions about her and Draco, it was not her fault.
Or so she told herself.
If the word happened to get around to Ron that she had happily moved on with an eligible candidate who he hated, that would not be the worst thing, either.
Even with that, she still could not get herself to take off the gold bracelet Ron had given her. It was her most cherished possession, outside of the pansies she had charmed in stasis. Pansy had never liked Quidditch and still she tortured herself by going to every Gryffindor game, watching Ron light up as he flew around the field. Seeing Lavender cheer for him in the stands as he gave her that smile haunted Pansy's dreams. She was certain that the way he looked at Lavender felt less than the way he had looked at Pansy.
Each morning, in front of the large vanity her mother had sent with her to school, Pansy watched herself as she carefully applied each spell to style her hair and makeup. The wand drifted across her face and left her with porcelain skin and a dusting of pink on her cheeks and lips.
Perfect.
Though her hair had a healthy shine with no frizz, her makeup was specially selected for her tone and colours, and her wardrobe was tailored, she felt that she had never been less put together. It was the mirror that taunted Pansy. There were not enough glamours in the world to hide the look in her eyes as she stared back at herself.
Then one day, Pansy saw that look—the look that she saw in her own eyes each morning—on the face of Hermione Granger. Pansy followed Hermione's stare all the way across the room to Draco Malfoy. If she had not seen it herself, Pansy would not have believed it, but one by one the strands pieced together like an intricate web spanning the years.
Hermione had been dancing near them at the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum. Pansy remembered because Hermione's periwinkle dress had looked comical next to Krum's Bulgarian outfit. They obviously had not matched colours.
Pansy had only run into Ron the night of the Ball because he was trying to find Hermione to apologise, and he was near the same corridor where Draco had disappeared.
The ridiculous letters and the howler with a terrible French accent, Draco's expectant answering of his door as if he had been waiting for someone—only to show annoyed disappointment, all those nights where she tried to find Draco, and his room was mysteriously empty but no one could account for his whereabouts. Ron's vague references to Hermione living in the library, even though Pansy could count the number of times she saw Hermione there on one hand.
That fucker.
Day after day, Pansy watched as Hermione grew more despondent and openly longed for Draco in the middle of classes, in the halls, over meals. Pansy prided herself on her skills of observation and even she had not had a whiff of a torrid romance between the pair prior to this year. They had successfully hidden a relationship for years and now, when it mattered most, Hermione was getting sloppy.
That would simply not do.
Over the summer, Pansy had heard the Dark Lord was putting great trust in Draco, giving him a task to fulfill in his name. Having that as a student was considered an honour among the Death Eaters, but to Pansy, it looked like a living nightmare. She did not envy Draco. It was obvious that whatever had happened between the two, Draco had broken it off because of his obligations.
Pansy knew how it felt to put duty over love. She knew the way it chipped at the soul each day, numbing a person from the inside out.
If any of them had any chance of surviving the war that was creeping closer each day, Hermione would need to stay away from Draco. To hide their—whatever it was—from their peers at Hogwarts was one thing, but to try to push those thoughts and feelings away while the Dark Lord lived in Draco's home was another. Hermione was endangering both their lives by openly pining and Pansy would do anything to prevent a horrifying and bloody end to their story.
It was then that Pansy began to work three steps ahead.
She slipped Marcus Belby a small bag of gold in exchange for the power to create and maintain the Prefect Patrol list. The night she received word that Hermione had swapped spots with Ron, Pansy changed the schedule so that Hermione and Draco would never interact. Pansy took Draco's place for Patrol and put on her best sneer.
The look of disappointment on Hermione's face when she turned the corner and saw Pansy almost made her crack. Humans were relatively predictable, and when frustrated enough, they would sacrifice almost anything to accomplish their goal. Pansy knew Hermione would escalate before she gave up. That was why Pansy was on high alert the day Hermione left Potions early.
Pansy could admit to herself that if Ron had tried to talk with her—no matter where they were—if he had reached for her, she would have crumbled. A reconciliation between Hermione and Draco would be dangerous; a public reconciliation would be a death wish. As soon as she saw Hermione's hand reach out for Draco, he faltered, and Pansy watched as his Occlumency shield cracked down the middle. Pansy grabbed his arm and dragged him away from Hermione, all the way to the dungeons where Theo gave a half-arsed excuse about Draco having stomach issues and closed the door in her face.
Draco did not come out of his room for days.
It was like looking in a distorted mirror of herself and Ron. The night Pansy heard that Ron had started dating Lavender, she hid in her room with a bottle of elf-made wine and a cheesy werewolf romance novel, curling up in bed until the bottle was dry and her cheeks were wet with tears. In hindsight, it had been over six months since she had run out of the room from his ultimatum, but the news still felt like a knife to the stomach.
After crying herself to sleep every night for a month, Pansy decided to get herself together and stop mourning a lost future.
The night Pansy heard Lavender call Ron 'Won-Won', she nearly vomited. It was even worse than 'Ronald'.
Months dragged on and the light in Hermione and Draco's eyes returned. Pansy hated them for having what she so desperately wanted back. She told herself she would not meddle in Ron's life and that she would let him just be happy. Even if it was without her.
Until the day she heard the news that he and Lavender broke up just four months after they had officially started dating.
It took nearly an entire bottle of wine before Pansy had worked up the nerve to go to him, to tell him that she had been wrong. Even with the war, even with their families, she was willing to try. It ripped her apart from the inside out to see him with another witch. She could not live her life like that, wondering what would have happened if she'd had the courage to tell him.
It was shit timing.
Before Pansy could even make her way to Gryffindor Tower, Death Eaters stormed the castle, Dumbledore died, and Ron left with Harry and Hermione. Pansy never had the chance to tell him the words that she thought every night for the past year.
I'm so sorry, I was wrong, I'm better with you.