WRITTEN FOR THE HOUSES COMPETITION, YEAR 7, ROUND 8

House: Ravenclaw

Class: Potions

Drabble

Prompt: [Situation] Alt, not knowing most people at an event

Word Count: 951(google docs)

Thanks to Wish and CK for the beta!

17/05/21 note: I originally posted on 3/05, then took this down and reuploaded because of spam reviews

Pansy wasn't enjoying the party. She was bored out of her mind and wanted nothing more than to huff and pout about it. She refrained because her mother had just reminded her that Pansy had to be especially careful about first impressions now that she'd be starting Hogwarts. People were always watching. It frustrated her to no end, but she didn't want to be labelled a pouting child by every stranger at the party. Not at such an important juncture.

Her mother had abandoned her to have a "private chat" with the other ladies, Millicent was home sick, Daphne never wanted to talk to her anyway, and Draco's father had decided that the midsummer party would be the perfect time to start instructing his son about "private matters", which Pansy was pretty sure meant politicking with the right people. But couldn't he have waited until after their first year at Hogwarts? Pansy was sure she'd have had other friends to talk with, then! As it was, she stood alone at the edge of the dance floor, completely ignored by all the strangers. She didn't even know if she'd enjoy interacting with the other guests, most of whom were tipsy adults in drab robes, but she'd have liked a choice in the matter!

Pansy huffed, then scolded herself for giving in to the impulse. Everything was just so different from the previous year, when the Malfoys had thrown a proper midsummer ball on the grounds of their manor. The sun had shone on the guests and Pansy and the other children had all been together. The Flints, by contrast, had stuffed everyone in a gloomy and dusty ballroom, and the lack of sunlight was doing nothing to improve Pansy's mood. And if she had to avoid another inebriated adult stumbling into her she would—!

"Little Princess."

Pansy's head snapped up, incensed eyes locking immediately on… the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Pansy's mouth dropped open. The unknown witch inclined her head in greeting, and Pansy stared as the graceful movement showcased the soft updo the young woman sported, strands of hair framing her delicate face. Her skin was flawless, and her icy blue eyes so distracting that Pansy spent an unacceptable amount of time trying to recover her wits.

Pansy finally closed her mouth, then opened it again to ask, "What did you call me?"

"I couldn't help but notice your deportment and exquisite dress robes. Little Princess seemed appropriate," the stranger answered with a small smile.

Pansy willed herself not to blush, even if it was hard. Nobody had ever said such things to her, and hearing it from the lips of such a beautiful witch (with the most amazing dress!) sent her heart aflutter. She put a hand over her chest, trying to calm herself.

"I'm not a princess."

"May I have your name, then, if 'princess' is inadequate?"

Pansy looked at the beautiful young woman from under her lashes and thought about their exchange.

"You haven't offered yours."

"You're right. How presumptuous of me." The young woman extended a hand and Pansy grasped it delicately. Even her nails were perfect. "I'm Gemma Farley."

"Pansy Parkinson," she said. Then she reminded herself firmly that she was a pureblood heiress and should behave like one.

"What a cute name. That's a kind of Viola, isn't it?"

Pansy raised her nose up in the air and replied haughtily, "Of course. It is the best kind of Viola."

Gemma smiled down at her with an amused glint in her eyes.

"Because you're named after it?"

Pansy surprised herself with a little giggle, and Gemma's beautiful face split in a toothy smile. She looked just as beautiful, but somewhat younger than Pansy had first imagined.

Then Pansy noticed that they were still holding hands. Unbidden, the idea of spending the rest of the party with Gemma, talking to her and enjoying her presence, crossed her mind.

It was ruthlessly smothered when a man approached them to invite Gemma to dance, and Pansy was alone once more, surrounded by strangers.

She didn't see Gemma again. Not until the first of September, when she discovered that the beautiful girl was the Slytherin fifth-year prefect.

It all went downhill from there.

/

Pansy wasn't enjoying herself.

Ten years after the Battle of Hogwarts, people still gave her the side-eye. Being at an official Ministry function surrounded by Ministry employees she may or may not have gone to Hogwarts with didn't help matters.

But Pansy didn't care about the roomful of quasi-strangers dancing around her. She had accepted to be there for one reason, and one reason only, and if she had to wait one more minute—

"All by yourself?"

Pansy didn't realise her shoulders had been tense until she heard that voice and they immediately relaxed. She didn't turn around.

"The very few people I know I don't want to interact with."

"I hope I don't make that list," Gemma said, coming to stand in front of her.

Pansy pretended to think about it.

"I don't know. Maybe it's what you deserve, after arriving late."

The song changed as they stared into each other's eyes. Despite her words, Pansy accepted Gemma's hand when it was offered, letting herself be led in a gentle waltz.

Gemma spoke after a few steps.

"I'm sorry I left you here alone, Princess. Next time the Aurors drag a dark artefact down to the Department of Mysteries, I'll tell them, 'no, sir. Not after six pm, my wife gets lonely if I'm not with her by then'."

Pansy rolled her eyes, but let Gemma peck her cheek.

Gemma had gotten there in the end. That was what mattered.