Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. This chapter got so out of hand that I had to break it into two parts. I'm such a sucker for dialogue and character development.
parkastoria: That's a brilliant theory. Not where I was heading, but equally as intriguing. Definitely would love to explore that topic in another fic.
heart. dramione: Thank you! Chapter 10 was a tough one. Everyone's agendas started coming to the surface. I wanted Pansy's reaction and motivations to be realistic.
Muffin'sback: Not necessarily a flashback, but a reminiscing of past events from a different perspective 😉. I love my side plots and try to give them as much attention as the main show. No one is a secondary player in their own lives.
A thing 4 luvin LEAH: Thank you! I really enjoy writing it. I'm really particular about my use of language in my stories though. Hence the long waits (by my estimation) between updates.
annabegins: I really missed it but couldn't give it the time it deserved before now. Trying my hardest not to rush it and tell the story fully. Hard when it's all in my head screaming to get out. Lol.
Vinese: Thank you! I'm pumped to be back at it. Have really missed it.
Dances-With-Pen: Ah, you made me blush. Thank you! I poured a lot into Chapter 10. It was intricate and complicated to construct. I wasn't 100% satisfied with it when I posted. But your one word means the world to me, because it says it all 😊
cellogirl: Thank you so much! I'm going to see this fic to its completion. I can definitely confirm a Weasley or two… or three or four… will make an appearance shortly. 😉
angelXofXlighting: I completely agree. I hate when fics rush into outlandish situations. I want to honour these characters and how they would realistically react under the given circumstances.
Chapter 11 – Panic At The Disco
Pansy stood on the landing at the top of the stairs, observing the three men congregated below who were as of yet unaware of her presence. She speculated from Draco and Harry's rapt attention that they must be deeply entrenched in a dialogue pertaining to the intricacies of bedtime routines and the potential for nocturnal shenanigans. Her focus narrowed in on her husband, that notion still boggling her mind, and marvelled at how his lean, taut figure in well tailored dress robes made her breath catch and her heart race. When had she developed such a proclivity for tall gingers?
Suddenly, Percy turned as if sensing her eyes on him and his expression upon spotting her was everything her delicate ego craved. His eyes glazed over with unfettered lust and he became slack jawed in his evident appreciation of her. She restarted her slow descent of the staircase, owning every inch of her sensuality. As she approached, she observed Draco lean in and playfully mumble something to Percy, who in turn flushed a brilliant shade of red and tore his eyes away from her in an awkward dance. In that moment she couldn't decide whether she was going to hex Draco into oblivion or thank him profusely.
"Good evening, gentleman!" she greeted as she neared them, a mild arrogance infused in her every gesture.
"You look stunning," Percy managed through a shaky breath, not a trace of false flattery to be found.
Pansy inwardly preened at his words, his obvious and genuine admiration of her serving to further bolster her.
"I dare say, you two won't even make it out the door at this rate," Draco taunted under his breath.
Harry huffed out an exasperated puff of air, but the affection capering in his green eyes as they settled on Draco was unmistakable. "Don't mind him. He's just jealous you two are having a night out. Off you go. We'll see you when we see you."
"Right. Thanks again. Tibby is here if you need back up. Good luck," Percy asserted, as he offered Pansy his arm. "You'll need it," he murmured just before they disappeared with a pop.
Harry looked to Draco with concern. "What is that supposed to mean?"
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Regaining her centre, Pansy took in her surroundings. They had apparated directly into the front foyer of a restaurant, which in her opinion appeared modern yet elegant and very much to her liking. She glanced up to the man at her side as he sorted out their reservation with the hostess and wondered not for the first time how they'd managed to end up together. She was intensely attracted to Percy, but in all honesty, was finding it hard to fathom how she'd made it past the prejudices of her upbringing to give him a chance in the first place.
They were led to their table quickly and after giving their respective drink orders, sat in an altogether uneasy quiet for what felt like an excruciating amount of time. Percy could not for the life of him think of anything remotely interesting to say. Their dinner conversations as of late had orbited around the topics of children and work. Neither seemed like enticing subjects to him in the least, especially if he was meant to romance her.
"So, tell me. Why do you "jog"?" Pansy finally asked, searching for anything to kick start a conversation and rescue them from the barren silence. "I mean, I'm not complaining. But it makes absolutely no sense for a wizard to run when he could just as easily apparate."
Percy cleared his throat and absentmindedly took a sip of his water, considering how best to answer her question. "Well, truth be known, it all started because of you." Pansy's brow knit in confusion, prompting him to continue. "You see, I was holed up at the Ministry one evening, drowning myself in work in a bid to get over losing you to Draco when..." Seeing her eyebrows climb comically to her hairline in response, Percy let out a light chuckle.
"Is that a common occurrence?" Pansy teased.
"Not exactly. Malfoy has managed to worm his way between us before though. Anyhow, my daft office mate showed me this ridiculous Rita Skeeter article in the Prophet in which Harry challenged you for Draco's hand…"
Pansy guffawed loudly, staring at him in disbelief. "You are joking," she sputtered.
"I'm not. Your father, fearing for your safety according to the Prophet, rescinded the marriage agreement on the spot. He could not let you face off against the notorious wizard renowned for defeating 'He Who Must Not Be Named'. That's obviously not how it actually went down, but you know what the Prophet is like."
Pansy considered his words for a moment but gave her head a slight shake, perplexed by the ridiculousness of the situation. "That doesn't explain the running though," she pressed on undeterred.
"Well, you see… I may have gone a bit mental after reading that article, especially the part where you alluded to 'someone not dawdling at work and making it home promptly by six for dinner'. I madly dashed out of the office, but the Ministry's floo network was down for regular maintenance. So, I jaunted outside like a lunatic and caught the night bus. Learned the hard way that it wasn't allowed in your father's district of town. Eight miles out from your house standing like a dimwit on the side of the road is when I realized I didn't have my wand on me."
She blinked back at him in astonishment. "Let me get this straight. You ran eight miles just to get to me?" Pansy nearly whispered, stunned.
"No, actually I only ran about four when I finally collapsed on the sidewalk," he corrected. "I was fairly certain in that moment that I was either going to die from lack of oxygen or you were going to kill me for being late. I'm not sure which angels were watching out for me that day, but Millie Bulstrode appeared out of the blue and kindly apparated me the rest of the way."
Pansy's gaze grew distant as she recreated the scene in her mind's eye. "What then?" she asked, her eyes snapping back to him.
"In the most dignified manner possible, I knocked on the door and then proceeded to vomit violently into your father's front bushes. And that's how he found me."
Pansy burst out laughing, eyes wide and shining with amusement. "You didn't," she gasped in a hushed, glee filled voice.
Percy could only bow his head a little, as a flush stole across his cheeks and a shy smile graced his lips. "Once you were properly in my arms, I made a promise to myself to never again be in the position where I couldn't make it to you in time." His smile faltered and his eyes grew troubled. He scoped about for something other than her piercing gaze to focus on. "Little good it did me in the end though," he muttered softly to himself.
Pansy felt his dejection like a knife of worry lancing straight through her. Before she could even utter some form of reassurance, however, their waiter materialized with the drinks.
"Good evening! Nice to see you again. My name is Andre and I will be your server this evening. Have you decided on your entrees? Can I interest you in an appetizer? We have a lovely White Wine Mussels dish," the far too chipper server warbled.
"I'll have the Lemon Salmon. No appetizer for me, thank you," Percy responded distractedly, still caught up in his self-reproach.
The waiter then turned expectantly to Pansy, but she felt at a complete loss.
"You didn't even look at the menu. Do we eat here that frequently?" she whispered sharply at Percy.
The server gave her an odd look and Percy shifted uncomfortably in his chair, a strained expression marring his features. "It is one of your more favoured spots."
She took up the menu and scanned through the selection, but quickly became overwhelmed by the abundance of options. "What do I normally get?"
"Well, you're partial to the lamb shanks on a saffron risotto. But you pretty much enjoy everything here," Percy answered quickly, feeling a growing mortification.
"I'll have that then, thank you. And no appetizer," Pansy quipped primly, purposely ignoring the look of sheer bewilderment on the server's face.
"So… Whatever happened to Millie? She used to be one of my closest… friends? Yes, I guess you could call her that. I haven't seen or heard from her through any of this ordeal," Pansy queried once their server had left the table.
Percy stared at her nonplussed for a moment, trying to catch up with the swift turn in the conversation. "She's in Bulgaria now. Moved there to be with her husband."
Caught in mid sip of her wine, Pansy began to cough violently in response. "Excuse me?" she finally managed.
"She married a crazy Bulgarian Count she'd met while touring Africa," Percy supplied with an air of false calm however a mischievous smile began to play at the corners of his mouth.
His answer did nothing to allay her shock. "Millicent Bulstrode. Cold, calculating, emotionless Millie Bulstrode," she summarized.
"One and the same," he confirmed.
"Huh," she blew out, nonplussed by the revelation. "I always thought she was a lesbian. Was it politically motivated?"
"Nope. He apparently fell arse over tea kettle for her in Africa and made it his mission to woo her. He's a tiny little man. Very, very odd couple, but they seem happy."
She narrowed her eyes, giving him an incredulous look. "You're having me on," she lobbed at him, full of jovial suspicion.
"God's honest truth. They visit once a year with their brood."
"Merlin's beard, how many progenies have they popped out?"
"Six," Percy responded flatly, doing his utmost to keep a straight face.
"What!?" Pansy bayed, her voice climbing several octaves.
"To be fair, they had triplets on their last round."
"I… I don't know how to take this. It sounds like some ludicrous circus."
"That's a pretty apt description actually," Percy acquiesced.
"Why, on earth, did she go to Africa in the first place?" Pansy asked, still bewildered.
Percy's good humour evaporated, and a wave of apprehension rippled its way over his countenance.
"She'd… um… she'd kind of set her sights on me when you broke it off in favour of becoming engaged to Draco."
Pansy's whole disposition instantly iced over at his words. "I beg your pardon?" she ground out in a deceivingly quiet voice.
"When your father sent word that he was returning from business, you… you panicked and opted to ditch me for Draco to stay in his good graces. After having met me at her dinner party early on in our fake courtship, Millie was impressed by my frugality and level head. The fact I had no interest in burning through her wealth like her other potential suitors was also quite appealing apparently. She proposed a marriage of convenience, which I would have jumped at under normal circumstances. But I was too broken up over losing you to even consider the offer."
"That… that bitch," Pansy panted.
"Now Pansy…" Percy tried to allay her.
"Don't you 'Now Pansy' me," she levelled with a dangerous gleam in her eye. "You were obviously mine. She had no right."
"Pansy, you had discarded me for another man," he argued back, but with little bite. It was ancient history to him now.
"So, you're saying you'd rather have married her then?" Pansy accused, venom igniting her every word.
"Are you insane? I was madly in love with you at the time. Still am, in fact. The entire Holyhead Harpies could have played a match completely starkers right in front of me and I'd still only have eyes for you."
"I… You… Really?" she huffed, glancing about blindly in a bid to make sense of how distraught and territorial she'd become.
She brought her eyes back up to meet his, searching for some kind of clarity. After a brief moment, a slight quirk of his lips as he tried to conceal his enjoyment of her possessiveness caught her eye and they both dissolved into a fit of laughter.
Once the giggles had subsided, Pansy finally managed, "Did she really marry a tiny Bulgarian Count?"
"Yes. Yes, she did. And they are a sight to behold," he offered through an endearingly lopsided grin.
"No offense, but our courtship sounds like it was miserable. How did we ever manage to make a go of it?"
"It wasn't always that…" Percy struggled to find a good word. "…melodramatic. We had quite a bit of fun together as well."
"Really? How intriguing. What kind of fun, Weasley? I'm guessing we didn't stick strictly to the missionary position then," Pansy nearly purred as she took a sip of her wine.
As a mad blush crept up the back of Percy's neck and invaded his cheeks, he felt as if his ears had burst into flame by the predatory look in her eyes. He was so unaccustomed to her explicit flirting that he didn't know how to respond to it anymore. She threw her head back and laughed fully at his acutely flustered state.
"Oh, please! Do tell all. How kinky did we get?"
Percy self-consciously shifted in his seat and had to remind himself to breath. "Well… I… we were pretty partial to role playing."
Pansy surreptitiously bit her bottom lip to quell the moan that threatened to escape her. Of course, they were. "Any favourites come to mind?" she prodded him coyly.
"You were pretty keen on the naughty schoolgirl and strict Head Boy." Seeing the delight slide immediately from her face to be replaced by what he presumed was a look of shock, Percy stammered on, "Can't say I faulted you though. Your old Hogwarts uniform was…" he released a heavy sigh of appreciation. "…it was brilliant. You looked incredible in it. I remember one time I was walking home from work just daydreaming about our first time playing that particular game… You surprised me with it… and I walked straight into a lamppost." He chuckled at the memory but was growing increasingly concerned by the indiscernible expression blanketing her features.
"Wow…" she finally breathed out softly. "Although unsettling, I have to admit that's not entirely surprising."
"Really," Percy queried, confused by her response.
Pansy took up her glass and helped herself to a substantial gulp of wine as if to draw from the liquid courage. Replacing her glass, she drew a deep breath and blew it out in a long stream. "You see, I may or may not have had a sizable crush on the Head Boy when I was in my third year. Always did have a thing for men in positions of power," she provided, markedly avoiding his gaze.
Percy's brow creased in confusion. "Who was the Head Boy in your third year might I ask?" he inquired stiffly, a ripple of tension working its way through his jaw as a hint of irrational jealousy snaked its way up his spine.
"You were," she supplied reluctantly, doing her utmost to avoid meeting his gaze.
"What?" he gawped at her gormlessly.
"Yes, alright? You. I was mortified and deeply ashamed of myself at the time. You were a Gryffindor, poorer than a house elf, and your family was considered to be blood traitors. But there was no getting around it. You were my dirty little obsession. I told absolutely no one. I'm pretty sure Blaise figured it out though, as he caught me staring at you on more than one occasion. I tried claiming I was plotting a prank on the Gryffindors, but he'd just give me these annoyingly knowing looks. That's why when I woke up in St. Mungo's and you were all trying to convince me I'd married you, I assumed Draco had found out from Blaise and was trying to pull one over on me."
"Is that why…" he started but trailed off unable to complete the question.
"Can you imagine being told you'd married your taboo childhood crush by your fiancé? It all sounded so farfetched at the time. I was certain Blaise had let it slip to Draco."
Percy's mind flashed to that horrible day. If Pansy had thought she was being ridiculed by Draco, her initial callousness and malicious attitude toward him and their children although hurtful almost made sense.
"Merlin, I was ridiculous in school," Pansy continued, a look of fond remembrance frolicking in her eyes. "I remember letting myself get caught snogging Theo Nott in a broom cupboard just to make you jealous. You didn't even know I existed back then though. Ah, to be thirteen and delusional."
"You know, I think I vaguely remember that," Percy offered, driving his eyes to the side as if to delve into his memories.
"Oh, fuck off. Now I know you're having me on," Pansy hurled at him.
"No, seriously. I recall it because unlike so many other girls who got caught in that position… you know, embarrassed and avoiding eye contact and whatnot… you stared at me dead on as if you were challenging me to a duel. Yes, I remember that now. It was really, really unnerving. I thought it was the whole Gryffingdor/Slytherin rivalry thing."
"Nope. Much more personal. Wanted to make you jealous."
"Oh, I definitely noticed you, and in hindsight I can honestly say your plan worked. I now have the burning desire to find Theodore Nott and throttle him to within an inch of his life," he joked.
"Only took twenty years," she spouted pompously, a playful smile curling her lips. "Nothing like playing the long game."
Percy laughed at her apparent pride but then grew pensive. "You never mentioned it… even after we got together."
"I was well over you by the start of fourth year. My head was completely spun by all those Durmstrang boys who showed up for the Triwizard Tournament. For the time being, you became a footnote in my adventures at Hogwarts and a vague memory. As time passed, I'm guessing I all but forgot."
"How old did you think you were when you woke up in St. Mungo's?" Percy asked, trying to establish timelines.
Pansy pressed her lips into a thin line and drove her eyes up and to the right searching her mind. "Nineteen or twenty at the most," she provided.
Crestfallen at the sense of renewed loss, Percy's eyes grew distant with despondency and he offered her the slightest nod of acknowledgment before driving his focus onto his previously untouched Firewhiskey. "You were twenty-three when we got together," he mumbled.
Witnessing his emotional withdrawal, Pansy felt a rising swell of alarm. "Obviously, I never truly forgot you though," she amended quickly, drawing his eyes back to her.
"What do you mean?" he levelled at her.
"I came to you with my outlandish plan to make Draco jealous, didn't I? Whether I consciously acknowledged my childhood infatuation or not, you were my first choice."
"You always said it was because I had the power to make Draco's professional life a living hell," Percy challenged her.
"That does make sense and is really the perfect excuse I'd give even to myself," she conceded. "However, I can tell you if I was going to fake date a Weasley, it damn well was going to be the one I'd fancied when I was a child."
Percy felt an overwhelming sense of providence. As a couple, they'd always been viewed by and large as an anomaly. He'd felt lost when her memories of him had been wiped clean from her mind, as there seemed next to no chance he could convince her to love him again. Knowing their attraction had inadvertently begun well before their actual courtship gave him hope that he could rebuild some semblance of a relationship with this version of Pansy. Yes, there was a harshness to her that he wasn't accustomed to, but he could definitely see the spirit he loved lingering just beneath the surface.
Suddenly, Percy felt the cellphone he used solely for work vibrate in the inside pocket of his robes. Of all the muggle devices in the world, his father-in-law had completely embraced cellular technology. It was inexpensive, and more efficient and discreet than an owl. It gave them a distinct advantage over their competition who had no idea what it was or how it worked. Percy quickly fished it out and covertly scanned the text message, flinching at its content, before subtly stowing it back in his pocket.
Pansy eyed his actions shrewdly, sensing that whatever he'd just seen was not to his liking, "What was that?" she prodded.
"What was what?" Percy questioned back, trying to divert her attention.
"What did you just look at? You read something off that little black box you put back in your dress robes."
Percy chewed nervously on his bottom lip and debated how much he should convey to her. They were having an enjoyable time and actually getting to know each other. One glance at her current expression, however, and he knew she wasn't going to accept anything but the truth.
Sighing in defeat, he gathered his courage and resolved to have out with it as quickly as possible. "I have to go away for a few days… for work."
"Excuse me?" Pansy stammered, blinking back at him in dismay as if he'd just slapped her. "When? When are you leaving? When will you be back?" She tried to stay calm but couldn't suppress the anxiety burning its way up her throat.
"Tomorrow morning. I should be home by Friday," he supplied, becoming concerned by the storm of upset raging in her eyes.
"Friday?! Are you kidding me? A week?" she burst. She had to get control of herself, but the abrupt terror locking up her chest was nearly choking her. She could barely make it a few hours when he was absent without feeling completely and utterly knackered. And what was she supposed to do at night with her nightmares?
"Five days. And… and I can floo you every day," Percy offered, reaching his hand out to her.
Pansy grabbed it without thinking and began to take calming breaths, blinking back the sudden tears. She could only think of how quickly she'd devolved without him when she had stayed with her father right after the accident. True she'd been recovering well since then, but she had no idea if she could manage without him for that length of time.
"You could take the kids and go stay with Mum and Dad for a few days. They've been really worried and asking after you. We were supposed to have dinner over at theirs on Saturday anyway," Percy continued, trying to alleviate her panic.
Although staying at the Weasley hovel should have been the most disgusting, distasteful prospect imaginable to her, something about the suggestion felt like a lifeline. "Yeah, alright," she murmured in her distraction, trying to shape in her mind what the next few days would hold for her.
"I'm sorry," he pleaded gently. "Your father only just messaged me about the rescheduled meetings this morning. I got completely sidetracked going to St. Mungo's with you and all of that other drama that I completely forgot to mention it."
At the reference of her father and the offending work agenda that would take Percy away from her, Pansy withdrew her hand from his and sat back, a wall of indifference constructed in an instant to hide her inner turmoil.
"I have to get back to work at some point, Pansy" he implored. "The company will ground to a halt if I don't, and this is an extremely sensitive time what with the expansion and the succession plan."
"It's fine. I'll manage," she quipped in a soft yet clipped tone, taking up her wine for a delicate sip and diverting her eyes to the other restaurant patrons around them.
"Are you sure?" he asked meekly.
"Do I really have a choice in the matter?" she snapped back.
The waiter chose that precise moment to deliver their meals, giving them both a reprieve from their quarrel to mull over how the evening had devolved so rapidly.