AN: Thank you all for the positive feedback – the favs, follows and reviews – I received for the first chapter! Here's some more:
Sharing this bond, or whatever it really was, with Potter was the most annoying thing Pansy had ever had the displeasure of experiencing in her life.
The boy's thoughts were constantly on a rampage and she was hearing every little thing. Some, however, were downright confusing and, if she dare say so, worrying. In his obvious grief over Sirius Black's death, he was becoming downright murderous, swearing to himself to take vengeance and to kill one Peter Pettigrew. If she remembered correctly, wasn't he the man Black had supposedly killed among that bunch of muggles? So, Potter was either barking mad or there was more to the story than she had known.
She neither asked out loud nor through their...bond – that still made her want to throw up – and he didn't elaborate either. All that remained was speculation for her.
Pansy, however, had issues other than Potter's grief and love for serial killers right now anyway.
She sighed and rolled her eyes at the low growl she was hearing in her head.
Two days had passed since she had woken up in the infirmary and now she was on her way back to the dungeons. Her friend Daphne had visited her a couple of times and relayed some interesting things about dear Draco. Apparently, he had yet to disclose what had happened that night to their social circle. Oh, she was going to love this. She was so going to love this.
First, he abandoned her out there to a werewolf and Dementors and then he didn't even pay her a single visit to apologize at least. He had every bloody right to be embarrassed. And she would heap even more embarrassment upon him, she'd make bloody sure of that. Her wrath was not something to be trifled with and Draco had better hoped that she'd actually gotten killed that night.
And once she reached the entrance to the common room, ground out the password and stepped inside, her eyes narrowed upon spotting the reason for her ire. Wasting no further time, she strode towards him with purposeful steps.
Draco then caught sight of her as well and gave her one of his stupid, easy smiles, his arms stretched out invitingly. "Pansy! I'm so –"
The slap echoed loud enough throughout the common room to stop any and all conversations and activities being held, all eyes directed towards her, but she couldn't care any less. Up until she actually saw him, she hadn't even realized just how angry she was at him.
Ignoring Potter's whooping in her head, she pointed a finger at him. "You bloody coward," she hissed at Draco, visibly seething, jabbing him at his chest with her finger. "There was a werewolf. I was this close to getting a Dementor's kiss!" She screamed the last part. He just stood there, eyes wide in shock and a hand on his – hopefully painfully – stinging cheek. "Do you know what it feels like when a Dementor tries to eat your soul? I do! You couldn't even be bothered to run away with me! You could've grabbed me or – or pulled on my arm or carried me for all I care! But you almost left me to die, you – you stupid, cowardly arse!"
"Pansy –"
"Don't talk to me." She narrowed her eyes at him. "The worst thing is that it was Potter who saved me. He almost died with me trying to protect me. Potter!" Pansy could see his annoyance and disgust and that was the only reason she even brought it up. "Not my childhood friend. Not you. Potter was with me when I thought I was surely living my very last moments. Let that sink in, Draco."
Still shaking in anger, she quickly pushed past him and walked to a table occupied by their year-mates. She gave Daphne a quick hug, then sat down properly, her arms crossed over her chest. Gradually, conversations resumed around her as normalcy returned slowly to the rest of the common room when Draco joined them, sitting between his muscles Gregory and Vincent.
"So…" Theo coughed awkwardly into his fist. "Potter, huh?"
"Shut up, Theo," Draco growled, not even bothering to hide his annoyance. "I seriously don't need to hear about his 'heroics' in our common room."
"Well, that is reason enough to talk about his heroics in our common room then, is it not?" Pansy stated innocently, relishing in Draco's annoyed glower. She turned to Theo. "What did you want to ask?"
He glanced at Draco, then shrugged. "Can he cast a corporeal Patronus? There've been some rumours."
Pansy thought for a moment but shook her head. "Couldn't say. I was so out of it...I think I saw him shoot some...I don't know, vapour or something, at the Dementors and that was enough at least for that one to drop me." She shuddered again. She hoped she wouldn't keep having nightmares.
Daphne reached over to squeeze her hand, Pansy shooting her a grateful smile and squeezing it back.
"What's it like sleeping between The-Boy-Who-Lived and his blood traitor sidekick?" Theo continued his questions with a snicker.
Pansy just groaned. "It was so annoying! On one side you have Scarface sulking and just being miserable all the time – over a serial killer! – and on the other...well, Weasley." There really had been enough said about that lot. Just dropping the name got her point across.
"Because hating people for having muggle or muggle-born parents or for being friendly to mu–"
"Sweet Morgana, get to the point already, Scarface!"
"The Weasleys are better than you and your friends could ever hope to be. You are vile. Malfoy is vile. Your other friends are vile."
"The Weasleys couldn't even afford to pay for the dirt on my shoes if they sold everything they owned. Now shut your trap, Potter."
"...you okay?"
"Huh? What?" Pansy blinked in slight confusion.
"You kind of spaced out a bit," Blaise said with a raised brow. "Are you alright?"
I hate this bloody bond. "Yes, I am fine," she replied with a tight smile. "Thank you for asking, though. At least someone cares." She glanced at Draco with narrowed eyes as he exhaled forcefully and clenched his fists. Suffer.
The atmosphere at their table had, once again, turned awkward but she didn't care. As long as Draco kept receiving the full brunt of her anger, she was more than content.
Another couple of days passed without any news from Professor Dumbledore and it was stressing her out to no end. Every waking hour she was hearing Potter's thoughts and, at some point during the day, it would always devolve into them hurling insults at each other. It was annoying, bothersome and, quite frankly, disgusting to share any sort of connection with the Boy-Who-Lived of all people.
"Because I love it so much to be connected to your empty head, Pugface."
"It is seven in the morning, Potter. For the love of all that is good and holy, just SHUT UP!"
"You are the one who woke me up!"
Careful not to show her frustration and anger outwardly, Pansy quietly slipped out of her bed and began her morning routine. At least they had no more classes. She left the common room for breakfast, accompanied by Blaise and Draco.
Once she got bored of being passive-aggressive, she moved on to giving him the cold shoulder. It pissed him right off, which, in turn, made her happy.
They had a relaxed breakfast – or as relaxed as it could be between her and Draco. When they went to leave the castle for the grounds, however, a charmed piece of parchment fluttered around her. Catching it with furrowed brows, she read it, her eyes widening and a nervous knot building in her stomach.
Miss Parkinson, please meet me in my office. I do enjoy Chocolate Frogs.
It was signed by Professor Dumbledore.
"If you will excuse me, it appears I have other business to attend to," she said, effortlessly switching from somewhat casual to proper language.
"What business?" Draco asked.
"My business."
Pansy took a moment to revel in her childhood friend's frustration as he growled and threw up his arms while stomping away, Blaise in tow.
Satisfied, she made her way to the headmaster's office but stopped in front of the gargoyle statue guarding the barely visible staircase behind it.
She glanced back at the parchment in her hand, front and back, but there was no password. "Bloody...ugh." Glaring at the ugly statue, she tapped at it with a foot. "I have to see the headmaster. Move." Nothing happened. Then came an idea and she groaned because she really didn't want to.
"Potter. What's the password for Dumbledore's office?"
Pansy waited but all she got was silence. Concentrating harder, she was sure she could feel him straining before his resistance broke and she felt his presence again in her head. Then she heard him hum an annoyingly cheery tune.
"Are you kidding me, Scarface?! Tell me what that bloody password is!"
"It's right there on the parchment, Pugface," came his amused voice from down the corridor, making one of her eyes twitch. "Chocolate Frogs."
"And you could not have just told me?" she growled at him through clenched teeth.
"No." Once he reached her, he faced the gargoyle. "Chocolate Frog."
The staircase's guardian stepped aside, opening the entrance for them. Potter wasted no time and moved past her, the stairs moving slowly and gently up in a circular manner. Sighing, she followed him, allowing the enchanted stairs to lead her up to the headmaster's office.
"You are unbelievably rude, do you know that? I've waited for at least ten or fifteen minutes and you could have simply told me."
He didn't answer and just ignored her instead, which annoyed her even more.
Upon reaching the door, he knocked a couple of times and opened it, stepping inside, albeit hesitantly. She followed a moment later and gasped in surprise.
"Mum! Dad!" Pansy ran into their arms, foregoing any decorum because it didn't matter at the moment. Just a few days ago, she had almost died after all.
She relished in her mother stroking her hair and her father kissing her on her head. He was so much taller than her and had to lean down quite a bit. His salt-and-pepper stubble tickled even through her hair. Heightwise she took clearly after her mother, who was a short and slender woman.
"The headmaster just confirmed what was written in your letter, my sweetness. Are you alright? What in Merlin's name were you thinking?" It was clear that her mother could not decide between anger and worry and her father even more so, considering the guilt over her twin sister's death he was carrying around for years now. She mentally kicked herself and cursed that bond, hoping that Potter hadn't listened in.
She pulled away a bit, her eyes cast downwards. "I apologize, mother. Father." Now it was time for proper decorum again. "I know it was foolish of me."
"Very much so, Pansy." Her father pulled her into a tight embrace again. "I am just relieved that nothing has happened to you. Dementors in school. Animals. Hiring such a dangerous beast as a teacher will not go down quietly, headmaster, I promise you that."
"While I can understand your ire, I can assure you that Professor Lupin was a very kind, gentle and beloved teacher. However, that is not the issue for which I have called you here, Mr and Mrs Parkinson. And may I introduce Harry Potter? Harry, these are Miss Parkinson's parents, Mr Penrose and Mrs Peony Parkinson."
Pansy turned around in her father's embrace while her parents and Harry exchanged stony nods.
"Thank you for saving our daughter's life. We are in your debt," her father said stiffly. Being in debt to the Boy-Who-Lived did not sit well with either of them.
He shrugged awkwardly, his brows furrowed and his hands stuffed in his robe's pockets while he avoided eye contact. "'s okay. It was the right thing to do…"
Pansy then faced the professor. "Do you know what it is then, Professor? This bond or whatever between Potter and me?"
"What bond?" Her mother asked sharply, looking between her and Potter as if trying to find it.
"Indeed I have, Miss Parkinson. You may all want to sit down, for this will not be easy for anyone involved."
She gulped, dread filling her already. Her father's strong hands on her shoulders were like a safety line, an anchor to keep her grounded and to give her a sense of security, but the professor's words still shook her hopes for a positive outcome. She glanced at Potter, her nose wrinkling in distaste.
They sat down on the summoned chairs, Pansy between her parents and Potter a bit away from them.
"What is going on, headmaster?" her father asked, his tone strong and demanding.
"When Harry saved your daughter from a most terrible fate, it appears that he had unknowingly set something in motion," Dumbledore began. "Have you ever heard of soulbonds?"
"Soulbonds?" Her father chuckled, but there was little humour in it and a lot of nervous dread. "You are not – you can't be implying – no. Not – not Pansy with –" He glanced at Potter, then shook his head. "...no."
"Penrose? What is it?" Her mother sounded as worried as she felt. "What is he talking about?"
"A soulbond, Mrs Parkinson, is a fated seal, forever binding the two involved parties together by linking their souls to each other – hence, a soulbond," Professor Dumbledore explained, his voice calm and gentle.
Pansy was not, however. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait." She could literally feel herself paling. "What do you mean with 'forever', Professor? You can't mean that this –," she made hand motions between herself and Potter, indicating the bond, "– is irreversible! You can't mean that! I don't want him in my head!"
"In your – what?!" Her mother looked even more lost than before. "Someone please tell me what is going on! Penrose!"
"Please be calm." The headmaster straightened in his chair, his eyes gentle yet firm behind his half-moon spectacles. "I understand the situation must appear dire and upsetting, but please – what has happened is nothing short of a miracle. An incredibly rare and, even more so, beautiful event." He smiled at her and then at Potter. "Magic itself has honoured young Mister Potter's sacrifice and bravery. He was ready to give his life to save Miss Parkinson's soul and magic was witness to such selfless courage. Magic has bound them for life."
Pansy wanted to cry. She had no idea what any of that meant, but she wanted to cry because she was bound to Potter for eternity. Glancing at him with clenched teeth, she saw him glaring at a spot somewhere behind the headmaster, seemingly just as displeased with this development as she was.
"I don't want to be stuck any more with you than you want to be with me, Parkinson."
She harrumphed.
"What does – what does any of that mean?" her mother asked confusedly after things had calmed down a bit.
"To be blunt, Mrs Parkinson...they are, for all intents and purposes, married."
Her brain had officially stopped working. Pansy wasn't even sure if she was breathing. She was sure, however, that her eyes and mouth were both open in shock. A feeling of utter horror settled deep in her stomach and she felt like throwing up. This couldn't be real. She was the heiress of a respected family of pureblood values! She couldn't be married to a half-blood! She couldn't be married to a half-blood who was also Potter!
"No." Her mother was the first who spoke and her voice left no room for arguments. "I refuse to listen to any of this poppycock any longer."
"There is no way out of this, is there?" her father asked despairingly. He sounded resigned already and that scared her to death.
"Father?" She turned in her chair to look at him, but he kept staring at Dumbledore.
"This hasn't been done in centuries." He shook his head and lost his usually immaculate posture, slumping into his chair. "The only way out of this would be for you to be wrong, headmaster."
Dumbledore inclined his head. "You appear to be rather knowledgeable in that regard, Penrose."
"Being a collector of ancient books and tomes covering a broad range of subjects does give one a rather extensive purview of knowledge on esoteric magics like these, headmaster." Her father sighed and rubbed his face with a hand. "Unfortunately, my passion for topics beyond business and finance only goes so far."
"That you have heard of it at all is a pleasant enough surprise as is." Dumbledore smiled gently, his eyes first lingering on her, then Potter. "As Mr Parkinson has said, the bond is absolute. Miss Parkinson, Harry – you are wed."
There was almost hysterical laughter in her head. "This must be the universe punishing me for letting Sirius die."
Pansy glanced at Potter and it looked like he was trying to disappear in his chair; he looked at no one, leaned away from her father and slumped so far down on his chair – it was beyond inappropriate.
Meanwhile, she...she didn't even know what she was feeling any longer. She wanted to die.
"Oh, my sweetness," her mother cooed, holding her hand and pressing kisses on her head. "Why did you have to follow Draco out? Why could you not have stayed in the castle?"
"Could you be wrong? Could there be a mistake?" Pansy pleaded with Dumbledore.
"No, Miss Parkinson. But there is also a very simple test. If you and Harry would hold hands for a moment."
"Go ahead, Pansy," her father urged her. "I would rather we know for sure."
She grimaced, then sighed and reached a hand towards Potter and could see from the corner of her eyes that he reached towards her hand, past her father. Before their hands touched, she could feel the jolt from that night building up, but a lot gentler and softer. This time, however, she could also see small, faint and purplish sparks dancing between their fingertips, making everyone in the room gasp. When their fingers finally touched, there was the feeling of being snuggled up in a warm blanket again.
"Do you feel it?" Professor Dumbledore asked. "My acquaintance described the sensation as a feeling of warmth, like a gentle breeze. His bonded, on the other hand, favoured the description of sitting in front of a hearth on a cold winter's night with a warm cup of milk and honey. Quite specific, if you ask me," he added with a chuckle.
"It's more like being under a warm blanket for me," Pansy wondered aloud before she realized it and pulled her hand quickly away with a blush.
Potter said nothing, but he didn't need to. To him, it apparently felt like simply coming home, whatever that meant. Quite boring in her opinion.
Not that it mattered.
"Touching the person one is bonded with lets one feel their preferred sensations of comfort. For one, it can be a hot cup of milk with honey in front of a hearth. For someone else, it can be a warm blanket." Professor Dumbledore smiled at them. "I understand that this is a lot to take in, but allow me to implore upon you that this bond is unbreakable, irreversible and indestructible. Please do try to make the most of a terribly difficult situation. Any attempts to betray the bonded or to harm the bond can lead to death. If one of the bonded dies the other follows not long after."
Her mother was shaking violently, her hand covering her mouth. "We cannot free our daughter from this...this prison! Oh, Pansy! Oh, we will be removed from the Sacred Twenty-Eight...this is a disaster…"
"There are more important things we have to think about right now, Peony," her father said softly, though she knew that this also weighed heavily in his mind. It certainly did on hers. Her father then suddenly stood up shakily. "Thank you for your time, headmaster. We – we have a lot to think about and – and consider."
"Of course, Mr Parkinson. Though, I would have hoped to further discuss the nature of this bond with you."
Pansy quickly shook her head. "I can't deal with this right now."
Sighing with poorly hidden disappointment, Dumbledore nodded at them. "Very well. However, one last word of warning: do not try to ignore the bond in whichever way you may consider. I have been told that the consequences of such actions may be dire also."
Her father gave Dumbledore a jerky nod before she and her mother followed him outside.
She heard the Professor ask Potter to remain in the office, but she didn't care. All she wanted right now was to jump off the Astronomy Tower, where the fall would hopefully end her for good. Potter should just have let that Dementor suck her soul right out of her body.
Anything at all would have been preferable to this.