Author's Note: I can't apologize enough for the delay. A gruesome workload and various family commitments over the past couple months have consumed much of my time, not to mention a crippling writer's block that left me feeling like an uninspired lump of clay. Life has been hectic and stressful, and my muse decided to hibernate.
angelXofXlighting: Thank you! There's definitely more to come.
StefMarie06: And I love you for picking it back up. My days have been hectic. But my children, husband and family are healthy and that's all that matters.
Muffin'sback: Ah, thank you! You always manage to make me blush. I hadn't really considered venturing to another site. I think I would want to reread and edit them before posting. I wouldn't be opposed to exploring the possibility. I've never written drarry specifically before, I just love writing interactions between different characters. If they have a story to tell, I try to get it on paper.
Dances-With-Pen: I'm starting to think Pansy's not going to let a little thing like birth control stop her one way or another. :D
ScarlettMeadow123102: Bwahahahhahaha… Yes, but where there's a will, there's a way.
Chapter 13
There came an awareness even before she opened her eyes. As she blinked herself back into consciousness, Pansy recognized her isolation, the hollow ache in her chest letting her know with no amount of uncertainty that Percy was no longer beside her. The magical void his absence caused was like a vice, making it hard to swallow or even breath. Clenching her eyes shut, she yearned for the mindlessness of sleep so that she could remain blissfully unaware for just a little bit longer. Pansy stretched out her arm to run her hand over his side of the bed in a bid to soak up any last remnants of his presence.
She had to get a hold of herself. Taking a few long, steadying breaths, she tried to focus her eyes in the dimly lit room. The morning light had barely begun to make its presence known, grey whispers of promised warmth dancing tantalizingly over her vanity and the end of the bed. Flashes of their nocturnal pursuits teased her mind's eye, sending a thrill down her spine and a sudden wash of arousal coursing through her veins. She'd never experienced that kind of carnal pleasure before, and they hadn't even had intercourse. She was absolutely adamant on consuming him when he returned whether they had a solution to their little problem or not, consequences be damned.
With a frustrated sigh, Pansy resigned herself to the fact that she was not going to find sleep again any time soon and so set about getting herself up and out of bed. It was then that her eyes fell upon a box on the bench at the end of the bed. There was no way it had been there the night before. They most definitely would have sent it toppling to the floor in their exploits. Surreptitiously, she crawled her way along the bed and settled into comfortable position, pulling the package toward her. On the top lay a card with her name neatly inscribed upon it. Pansy hesitantly opened the card and scanned the efficient script.
'Love,
It boggles my mind every day that you have no idea how much I adore you or even why and how. Yet you're still willing to give me… to give us a chance despite everything. I can only imagine how frustrating it is to not remember us or the children and the pressure you must be feeling. That in mind, I've left you some memories to peruse while I'm away. Perhaps you can revisit these moments and know how truly loved you are.
Ever yours,
Percy'
Pansy dropped the card and tore open the lid of the box, a hint of desperation inherent in every move at what could potentially lay inside. Her eyes lit upon the contents and she felt hot tears instantly coating her lashes. Encased was an assortment of at least a dozen or so vials with labels such as 'Mira's birth', 'Penny's first steps', and 'Finding Robbie on the chandelier'. Granted they weren't her memories, but she would be in them. She would have been present for them.
Her previous heartache and emptiness forgotten, Pansy moved swiftly to the pensieve located beside her vanity and set about excitedly choosing the first memory to immerse herself in. Her mind whirled with the possibilities and she felt completely overwhelmed. There was too many to choose from. Her gaze settled on one vial in particular and a kind of warm buzz took up residence in her ribcage. Her wedding day seemed liked a good place to start.
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As she stared out blindly at the view from her bedroom window, Pansy was lost to the images she'd devoured over the past three hours. The incredible throbbing pain in her chest had eased, slowly replaced instead by a dull ache. She still missed Percy terribly, but having these memories gave her something concrete to hold on to. Before them, she had been living in the moment. There was no past and no future, only the present. The notion of him gone was unlivable to her… excruciating even. Now she was confident she could weather this separation. It wouldn't be easy, but she felt better equipped to handle it.
"Rise and shine, sleepy head," Penelope bellowed as she bustled into the room.
"I've been up for hours," Pansy murmured softly from her place on the window seat, reluctantly pulling herself from her far and distant sights. She inhaled deeply and released the exhale in one, long stream of breath, relishing a final look before drawing her gaze away to settle her gaze on her healer. "Percy left me a box of memories to delve into while he's away."
"Did he now," Penelope offered, gifting Pansy with an assessing sweep of her eyes before her stare flitted briefly to the pensieve. "Always the sentimental sop," she teased affectionately, truly impressed by Percy's creative work around to help his wife overcome her memory loss.
"That he is, but he's my sentimental sop I reckon," Pansy tendered with a gentle tartness.
"Really?" Penelope perked up at the subtle possessiveness of Pansy's words. "Anything interesting?"
"Yes. I'm not looking forward to the day Robbie gets his first wand, that's for sure."
Penelope let out a rich, full bark of a laugh. "You have no idea," she finally tittered through her waning giggles. "That one is a hellion. Anything else? I can't imagine our man, Weasley, didn't slip in something sappy and romantic."
"There was our wedding day… and night," Pansy stated innocently enough, though the hint of a smile was playing at her lips.
"Ugh. I don't even want to know," Penelope groaned, as she sat like a heavy lump on the edge of the bed.
"No, you really don't," Pansy confirmed with a saucy wink.
"Let's change the subject. Did you have a good night sleep? Any night terrors or restlessness?" Penelope inquired in the most official tone she could muster.
"It was a great night… but definitely restless," Pansy simpered, unable to suppress the laugh bubbling up her throat as she purposefully avoided making eye contact.
"You little strumpet," Penelope quipped in a scandalized tone.
"Takes one to know one," Pansy sassed back playfully.
"Got shagged good and proper then?"
"Not quite," Pansy forced out, the first echoes of discontent colouring her demeanor.
Penelope's eyes narrowed imperceptibly at the shift in her friend's countenance. "You didn't? How is that even possible with a Weasley?" she prodded.
Abashed, Pansy could only shake her head in the negative. "Do you know of any… non magic based contraceptives?"
Penelope's eyes widened slightly in understanding before she glanced about uncomfortably. "Damn," she muttered more to herself. "Sorry, it really should have occurred to me. You're right of course. I can't recommend any potions for you right now, magical or otherwise, and a charm could be very disruptive to your recovery." Penelope seemed to stew in her thoughts as she mulled over possible solutions. "What about condoms?" she finally blurted out.
Pansy's brow knit together in confusion. "What, the devil, are those?" she asked in distaste, something about the name seeming gauche.
"Um, well… they're a muggle thing. Kind of like a plastic glove for a man's dangly bits," Penelope offered clumsily.
Pansy's eyebrows climbed comically in disbelief and disgust. "I beg your pardon?"
"It's really not as bad as it sounds," Penelope attempted to persuade her.
"Not going to lie, sounds pretty awful."
"It's probably the best and only option in your particular situation. Fair warning though, they are not one hundred percent effective, especially if they're not used correctly."
Pansy considered Penelope's suggestion and the potential ramifications if said product were not administered properly. "So, what's the worst that could happen? I get pregnant?"
"Pretty much," Penelope confirmed matter-of-factly.
Pansy's gaze grew distant as she considered the prospect. Drawing her eyes back with a snap, she levelled Penelope with a look of resolve. "I guess I'm going to have to practice then."
"You're going to need a banana," Penelope offered bluntly.
"A banana?" Pansy asked with a squeak, perplexed at the odd direction their conversation had taken.
"Or maybe a cucumber. He is a Weasley."
One look at Pansy's bewildered expression and Penelope burst out into another fit of laughter.
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Percy pushed his otherwise untouched food around his plate in a state of utter distraction. He couldn't bring himself to focus on the dinner banter at hand, as his mind kept wandering back to soft, pliant lips and supple curves, not to mention the sounds that had flowed from that perfect mouth. It had been more than six months since they'd shared that level of intimacy, the memories of which still made him shudder in pleasure. The reminder of their lengthy estrangement brought him back with startling speed to a grim reality and the headache that had been ripping its way through his frontal lobe since he'd arrived. The last time he'd experienced a migraine of that magnitude was when he'd been away for business, and he was beginning to draw some rather unsettling conclusions.
Perhaps Pansy wasn't the only one who had suffered trauma as a result of her accident. Worse yet, what if this intense pain was in fact a direct result of her experiments on their bond and not her accident at all? He'd been suffering from these episodes for quite a while now. He felt both irrational anger and a disquieting craving for her begin to swell and compete within in him. He took a flustered sip of his water to quell the growing conflict in his chest.
"Don't you think, Percy?" he heard from across the table.
"Beg Pardon. What?" Percy stumbled trying to regain his footing in the conversation he'd unconsciously abandoned.
His father-in-law gave him a look of exasperation. "It's not that important. I was just wondering if we should meet up early tomorrow morning to review strategy before heading to the meeting."
"Yes. Yes, that sounds good," Percy mumbled, his eyes falling back to the mountain of mush he'd created from his entrée.
"Is everything alright?" Robert asked, a growing concern at his second in command's uncharacteristic absentmindedness.
Percy lifted his head quickly to find the other man eyeing him closely. Unnerved by the unspoken interrogation underway, Percy awkwardly diverted his gaze to anywhere but his father-in-law.
"Pansy was upset about me having to be away so soon," he offered quietly.
Robert rolled his eyes in consternation, unable to control his reaction. "Of course, she was. That's nothing new, Percy. My Petal has always been very vocal about being the centre of your universe."
"No, it wasn't like that," Percy nipped, becoming irritated by the other man's dismissive attitude. "It wasn't like her normal complaints. She was… I don't know how to describe it. She was fragile and terrified."
Robert took a measured sip of his wine, digesting the new information. "Go on," he urged Percy to continue.
"I don't think she was entirely ready, medically speaking, for me to leave. And to be perfectly frank, I'm not feeling altogether with it myself. These migraines have been exceptionally brutal this trip." Percy put his cutlery down and wove his fingers together in a tightly knit clench, considering how best to broach the discussion that unexpectedly loomed before him. He'd been thinking about taking some time off perhaps after the succession was complete but hadn't anticipated having the conversation with his father-in-law quite so soon. "Robert, I… I realize this is not the best time. But… but our relationship… Pansy and mine… it's... we're not in a good place. She needs me right now."
Robert stared at Percy nonplussed, feeling completely sideswiped by the unexpected topic. "What are you trying to say, Weasley?" he questioned with deadly calm.
Percy was inadvertently reminded of his wife's innate talent for exacting information from him. "I… I want… No, I need to focus on my family. Pansy's accident happened because I wasn't present. I was preoccupied and she was left to her own devices. I was so deeply involved in and committed to the company that…"
"Are you saying this is my fault?" Robert lobbed at him, becoming incensed. "That my daughter has lost herself because…"
"That's not what I'm saying at all," Percy tried to interject.
"… because of my company. Because of me. That's exactly what you're saying," he continued undeterred, standing to take his leave. "I take exception to your accusation, Weasley. This is your company too might I remind you. Your family's legacy," he huffed before turning to walk away.
"Robert," Percy hissed sharply, the onset of another wave of nausea and dizziness driving up his annoyance with the whole situation.
"I'll see you in the morning," Parkinson tossed over his shoulder without looking back as he made his way out of their hotel's restaurant.
"Bugger," Percy muttered under his breath. He stood angrily to collect his personal effects but reached up to clutch at his forehead as searing, shooting agony cut a clear path from the back of his head to behind his eyelids. Then darkness quickly encroached from the edges of his vision and he inelegantly collapsed in a heap on the floor.
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Pansy stepped out of the hearth of the Burrow, clutching to her son on her hip more in a bid to centre herself than for his benefit. She'd never been keen on that mode of transportation, but this particular trip had left her on the verge of either losing her breakfast, feinting, or both. She still was having trouble reconciling why she'd opted to make the trek in the first place. She'd felt substantially calmer after her voyeuristic pursuits from that morning, as well as the restorative effects of her entertaining visit with Healer Wood.
One moment she was happily enjoying brunch with her children, and the next she was overcome with fear and an unwavering anxiety driven need to surround herself with gingers. She could not seem to get them packed up and into the hearth fast enough. Now that she was stood in the cluttered living room of her in-laws, she felt decidedly embarrassed by her hairbrained haste. Before Pansy could think more on it, Penny and Mira burst out of the fireplace as if they were dragons launching into the stratosphere. Their obvious love of the familial hovel apparent in the massive grins cutting glorious paths over their cherubic faces and their absolute ear-splitting squeals of glee.
"Girls, please reign it in. Your Nana and Grandpa will think they're under attack," Pansy huffed in annoyance.
"Yes, Mother," Miranda offered sweetly, but the impish smirk licking her lips could not be subdued.
"Mama, may we please go and visit the pond?" Penny inquired softly, her excitement under much better control than her sister's.
"First take your bags to…" it was at this point Pansy really took in her surroundings. She was prepared for a sense of revulsion to snake its way up her spine. How could she react any differently to the Weasley shack? Its reputation had preceded it. Although the furnishings were shabby and the building's architectural integrity was questionable, she felt surprisingly benign. "… wherever it is you girls normally sleep when we're here. Then you're free to explore for an hour," she finished still uncertain whether staying was the right idea.
"Thank you, Mama," both girls effused as they left in a mad rush.
Pansy adjusted her son on her hip and did a slow circle to perform a critical assessment. She marveled at how her husband could possibly have been raised in such a place. He was so fussy and anal retentive sometimes, needing everything to be just so, which was in complete contrast to the frenetic nature of the décor and over all ambience.
"Pansy?" came a male voice.
Pansy instinctively turned in response to face a tall man in his late sixties with salt and ginger hair and only whispers of resemblance to her husband.
"Mr. Weasley?" she ventured in reply.
"Arthur," he corrected gently. "I hear the girls have already made the rounds and are on the hunt for mischief."
"Sorry about that. They were very excited when I told them we were coming for a visit."
"No worries. None at all. We've missed your bunch. How are you doing? I mean… Well, you know." Arthur shifted uneasily at what he perceived to be a probing and likely unwelcome question.
"I'm improving every day. Thank you for asking," she answered with forced lightness, stiffly trying for an air of friendliness. "Still don't really remember anything. But my feelings are… They're very different from what I recollect."
Arthur nodded his head absently, but his mind seemed to have already drifted to other matters. Without warning, Bobbie began to reach for the man and Pansy willingly handed him over.
"Hello, Bobbett! It's splendid to see you," Arthur cooed affectionately as he took the boy into his arms. "Molly's in the kitchen, making some lunch I expect. She'll be hankering for a catch up. I'll take Bobbie for a stroll to visit the pixies if you don't mind. Truly strange how they adore him. Only wizard I've ever seen them take a shine to."
With an amused shake of his head and a light chuckle, Arthur disappeared out the front door with Bobbie in tow. Pansy briefly wondered if it should concern her more that her son was befriending Cornish Pixies, but it somehow seemed fitting.
She glanced about, trying and failing to suss out the direction of the kitchen. It was clear she'd been there before, but there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the layout of the place. Just then, her ears picked up the soft clink of dishes around a corner she would have assumed lead to a linen closet. Pansy cautiously edged her way toward the sound, peaking tentatively around the bend. There, busy at work baking, was a stout woman, all manner of housework chaotically ensuing around her. The dishes were being washed, pants mended, and the floor mopped all by an invisible force. The mistress of the house was deeply focused on taking something out of the oven. The charms work at play was astounding to Pansy.
Molly looked up and both women froze. Although Percy had definitely inherited his father's stature and stilted shyness, the likeness to his mother was startling, especially her soft eyes with a warmth and depth that were unparalleled. In that moment, however, her expression was unreadable, causing Pansy to question the sanity of her decision to drop in for a call. When Molly put the pan of biscuits down to wipe her hands off on her apron and begin her slow, measured approach, Pansy felt her nerves and apprehension climb to unmitigated heights.
She couldn't even imagine what her relationship with this woman might be like. Her own mother had died when she was no more than eight and her father had never remarried. The closest thing she'd had to a mother after that was her house elf Tibby, which she admitted to no one. She did not possess a history of being able to keep lasting friendships with women. At least she didn't used to. The two women regarded each other in a charged silence, unrest hanging in the air like the smell of burnt toast. Suddenly and without warning, Molly wrapped her in a crushing bear hug much to Pansy's shock. She could do nothing more than ineptly pat her sobbing mother-in-law on the back.