AN: Thanks, once again, for favs, follows and reviews! Also, again, as of now there is no will, which means no Lord Harry Potter-Black, which means no Grimmauld Place!
"Place it on the desk, Biffy, then leave," Pansy ordered their ugly, little house-elf, who brought her a plate with Pwdin Eva, her favourite dessert.
"Yes, Lady Mistress Parkinson," the creature squeaked in its high-pitched voice and did as told before disappearing with a pop.
When she wasn't learning from her father, she was spending her time doing her homework. Distractions. That was what she needed and that was what she gave herself. The busier she was, the less she was thinking, the less she was remembering. All of her focus went into the task at hand, which, right now, was her Transfiguration homework.
She placed her quill gently on her desk, careful not to make a mess with the ink, then leaned back into her chair, giving in to the urge to thoroughly stretch. It was time for a break, so she grabbed the plate and began eating her little treat.
So far, half a month in, their summer hols had been, thankfully, fairly quiet. She traded only a few words with Potter and, other than that, just spent most of her time holed up in their manor. There was little desire to meet with anyone whatsoever when the inevitable fact of this soulbond becoming public knowledge was looming over her like a killing curse.
"I hope you choke on your food, you fat whale…"
Pansy blinked, slowly chewing her small bite of Pwdin Eva before swallowing it and placing her plate on her desk. Her brows furrowed and her lips curled to show her extreme displeasure.
"What did you just say?! Do you have a death wish, Potter?!"
"What? What are you talking about?"
She wished she could face him right now, just so he could feel the full force of her utterly disbelieving expression. "If you think you are being clever, you are not. Did you not just say something about hoping that I will choke on my food and that I am fat?"
There was a moment of silence. "That wasn't meant for you."
"Who is it then you want to choke on their food, hm? Wouldn't have pegged you for the murderous type, Potter." Pansy paused, then chuckled. "Then again, you are sad over the death of a serial killer."
"Sirius was innocent!" Potter exploded at her, making her wince.
"What do you mean?" she wondered, now genuinely curious. Picking up her plate once more, she continued to eat her dessert. That sounded like it was going to at least be entertaining.
"I'm not going to tell you anything, Parkinson. I already said too much and I'm not going to 'entertain' you."
"Don't be a spoilsport!"
Then, only silence greeted her, much to her annoyance. "You can't just say something like that and then refuse to elaborate, Scarface!"
He still didn't say anything and just began reciting spell after spell instead.
Insufferable.
Time passed and, before she knew it, the rest of the month was behind her and it was already the end of July and time for the Summer Ball.
This year, it was the Fawleys who hosted the ball, another Hufflepuff family after the Macmillans. Pansy was wearing a cream coloured, light dress robe with a frilly skirt. Her eyebrows were neatly done, her fingernails manicured and painted a nice peach.
Upon arriving there with a portkey, she grumpily busied herself with smoothing out her dress and hair. It was a dreadful way of travel when one was prettied up like she was. Unfortunately, floo would have been even worse with all the soot and whatnot and the Fawleys lived in Berwick Upon Tweed, which was far in the Northeast corner of England and too far away from Cardiff to apparate safely.
So, portkey it was.
The grounds they landed on were vast and lush, decorated with many apple trees. Pansy followed her parents through the Fawleys' grounds, following Mr Selwyn and his wife. They were both inching in towards their fifties and had no children that she knew of or any other relatives she had ever seen. She would have to guess that Mr Selwyn was the last of his family and that, with him, his family would die. A bit of a shame, but then again, also not really. Her father had told her quite a bit of his...feats during the First Wizarding War and it made her stomach churn quite a bit.
Once they were past the reception, they were led to the garden, which was surprisingly where the ball would take place instead of a traditional ballroom. It was quite tastefully decorated with fresh flowers, a marble garden fountain and various standing tables and a patio to sit and enjoy cool drinks.
Right there was where she spotted Daphne, dressed in a cool blue dress robe, simple and elegant, with her hair done in a pretty updo.
"Father, mother, I will say hello to Daphne. I will join you when the hosts have found you," she told her parents.
Her mother, her hand firmly holding onto her father's arm, nodded at her in acknowledgement. "Of course, my sweet."
Pansy then made her way past other guests, stopping once or twice to say hello and point her parents out, before she finally reached her closest friend – other than Draco, of course.
Daphne smiled widely at her and they shared a quick hug, Pansy taking the time to take a cup of non-alcoholic wine, which was offered by a house-elf.
"How's your summer been so far?" Pansy asked after sitting down on one of the cushioned benches. "I know you said in a letter that you would spend a couple of weeks in Fiji. Turtle Islands, was it?"
"Yes! It was beautiful, Pansy!" Daphne gushed with a bright smile. "The sea was such a gorgeous colour and the beaches were a stunning sight! I wished we could've stayed longer."
Pansy smiled a bit wistfully at her friend. Soulbond or not, this summer her father would have been too busy anyway and they would not have been able to travel to an exotic holiday venue. Besides, her family had a vacation home in the Maldives they had visited last year.
"You have certainly earned yourself an impressive tan," Pansy commented with a grin after looking Daphne up and down. Her face, bare lower arms and her modest cleavage showed enough skin to show her tan off.
"It won't last long in England's dreadful weather, however," Daphne complained. "What have you done all summer?"
"My father began teaching me the basics of handling our family's finances," she shrugged delicately. "Other than that, you know, the usual: homework and relaxation."
"And – oh, look." Daphne gazed past her into the crowd, pointing at a slick mop of pale, blonde hair accompanied by a tall man with equally pale blonde hair and a tall, slim woman, who had long, blonde hair as well.
"It appears the Malfoys have, once again, decided to join the ball fashionably late," Pansy said with a chuckle before taking a sip of her wine.
Her friend rolled her bright, blue eyes. "Did you expect anything else?"
"Good evening, ladies," Draco greeted them easily once he reached them, kissing the back of their hands as was proper.
"Good evening, Draco. How kind of you to join us," Daphne said mirthfully.
Draco sighed. "We go through this at every ball. Don't you ever get bored of it?"
"Not when your parents always deem it necessary to make a point by being the last guests to appear." Pansy snickered behind her hand. "Except for balls they host themselves."
"It is amusing and always a nice conversation opener," Daphne agreed humorously.
"Anyway." Draco took a cup of non-alcoholic wine for himself and sat down on a bench across from them. "Guess what my father told me today."
"He has arranged a betrothal for you with Millicent?" Pansy offered innocently, making Daphne choke into her cup in laughter and Draco gag, as well as Potter in her head.
"Merlin, no, what is wrong with you?!" Draco shuddered once before collecting himself while Daphne was busy wiping her chin with a napkin. "No, he told me that Arthur Weasley found tickets for the Quidditch finale for himself and his entire brood. I would bet my position in the Slytherin team that Potter will join them."
Pansy was quite surprised. "What did they do? Sell their house?"
"Still wouldn't be enough," Daphne commented with a scoff.
"Oh well. At least you'll see your best friend early, I suppose," she teased Draco.
"Don't make me throw up, Parkinson."
"You know, I did offer him my friendship once –"
"Yes, yes, and he declined, preferring Weasley over you," Pansy drawled. "We've heard that story so many times now."
"He's holding a grudge over that? Wow."
"You did wound his pride quite severely after all."
"...Weasleys better than me!" Draco finished his rant just as she fought her way back into the here and now. It was still a bit confusing to manoeuvre and juggle mental conversations with real conversations at the same time.
"He's so obsessed with me and the Weasleys," Potter marvelled, sounding disturbed, pulling her right back into her mental conversation.
Pansy scoffed in her head. "Don't flatter yourself. Besides, you are just as obsessed with him."
She took a sip from her wine, then got up from the bench when she saw the hosts chatting with her parents. "I will have to present myself to Mr and Mrs Fawley. If you will excuse me."
Weaving her way past the other guests, she quickly arrived by her father's side, who placed a hand on her shoulder with a proud smile.
"Aster, Emeline, you know our daughter Pansy. Pansy, Mr and Mrs Fawley, our gracious hosts."
She curtsied with a polite smile. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Mr and Mrs Fawley. I would like to thank you for a very pleasant evening so far."
"And as polite and lovely as ever! You are quite welcome, young lady," Mr Fawley said and gave her a chaste kiss on her hand.
Pansy remained by her parents' side while they were rubbing elbows with Mr and Mrs Fawley.
"Polite and lovely, huh? Does this Fawley fellow need glasses or something?"
"Not at all. You, however, appear to be requiring a new pair." She paused for a moment, a thought coming to her. "Come to think of it, you do indeed. That pair you are wearing is hideous and, as much as I hate to even think of it, once this thing becomes inevitable public knowledge, I am forced to show myself with you in public. You will need an entirely new wardrobe. If you are at least somewhat pleasant to look at, I might not be publicly humiliated too badly."
Not an answer was given and she allowed herself a small smirk. He'd learn soon enough that challenging her into a verbal duel was akin to suicide.
It was early August and Pansy had just retired for the evening, dressed in her new and now favourite, dark red and silk nightgown with its pretty lace trims. It looked so very flattering on her and it had been a birthday present she had bought for herself.
Her birthday, a couple of days ago on August 6th, had been a small affair and she had only invited her Slytherin year – aside from Tracey Davis, the half-blood.
Even Potter had congratulated her, much to her surprise, which, in turn, had prompted her to belatedly congratulate him for his birthday. The fact that his congratulation had sounded more like a muttered apology someone was forced to make but didn't really mean had certainly done wonders to drastically ease that twinge of guilt she had felt for a fraction of a second.
Now, she was on her bed and reading some fiction about a wizard forced to live among muggles. It certainly was entertaining in a way; the idea that someone with powers to manipulate reality itself would have to make do without them in as primitive a lifestyle as muggles lived. Her parents weren't too keen on her reading something for pure leisure, but also understood that books about finance and family trees and business were not exactly relaxing literature. Then again, those were so dry and boring, she'd probably fall asleep easier reading them than A Wizard's Life In Muggletown.
"Could've at least picked a real city," she muttered to herself as she was moving onto the next page.
Pansy yawned delicately into the back of her hand when there was suddenly a loud bang in the middle of her room, causing her to jump on her bed, shriek in panic and throw her book at the intruder before pulling up her blanket to cover herself up.
"Ow, bloody hell!"
Her eyes widened to unnatural proportions upon hearing that voice and only then did her brain catch up upon seeing the boy dressed in dreadfully wide pyjamas clutching his belly on her floor – probably where her book had hit him.
"Potter?!"
Then her door flew open and in stormed her parents, both with their wands out and aimed at the intruder.
"Who – what the –?! What in Merlin's name are you doing in my daughter's room, boy?!" her father growled at him.
"I don't even know where –" Potter's eyes landed on her blushing form and she pulled the blanket up as high as her chin. "Parkinson?! What – where am I?! Bloody what happened?!"
"You apparated straight into my room, Potter!" she hissed at him. "That's what happened!"
"Oh." He then glanced at her parents, his face turning a furious red, before he rushed and stumbled through his explanation. "I'm so s-sorry Mr and Mrs Parkinson, I swear it was a-an accident! I-I was just going through some spells and notes on wand movements and – and next thing I know – I promise, I would never –"
Her father sighed and lowered his wand, giving Potter a jerky nod. "I'll believe you for now. You are a bit old for accidental apparition and you have not apparated into Pansy's room of your own free will."
"Penrose, could it be the...the soulbond?" her mother asked hesitantly.
"It is quite possible. I will have to speak with the headmaster at once tomorrow, but, for now, Mr Potter should be returned home. Biffy!"
Their house-elf appeared immediately. "Biffy is ready to serve, Master Parkinson!"
"Return our...guest to his home at once. He will give you the needed information."
"Yes, Sir." Their elf then looked at Potter. "Please come, Sir, boys be not allowed in Lady Mistress Parkinson's room, it not be proper!"
They watched Potter follow their house-elf out of her bedroom, muttering another apology with his red face and head hung low before he closed the door behind himself.
Pansy exhaled heavily through her nose and let the blanket drop. "I can't believe this just happened."
"In hindsight, maybe we should have listened to what else Professor Dumbledore had to say about the bond." Her father ran a hand through his hair. "As I said, I will ask him about this tomorrow."
She just knew that sleep would be difficult tonight.
Thankfully, the following days were a lot less eventful and neither Potter nor she talked about him suddenly appearing in her bedroom.
As it turned out, their bond, apparently, allowed the bonded to apparate to the other's location, though it was not unlimited. Range and wards would work on them as they did on others, but for them, it would be enough to think about the other instead of locations and whatever else was needed for successful apparition.
Too bad her father was always so bloody busy apparating in and out of their home that wards were just not feasible.
Time, however, passed so very quickly and, before Pansy knew it, she had been at the Bent-Winged Snitches concert with her cousin Camellia and the Quidditch World Cup finale was behind them. All she knew about that event was that one of the teams had won and that a few pureblooded hooligans had engaged in a fistfight with muggle-borns and half-bloods. The numerous Aurors stationed across the grounds had broken that embarrassingly backwards brawl apart quickly enough, according to the Daily Prophet.
She had asked Potter if he had been part of that fight, to which he had just sighed in annoyance.
Thankfully, their soulbond had yet to be made public knowledge and she was genuinely starting to think that they might get away with it remaining a secret. Every day at breakfast she'd wait for the newspaper with dread and every day she'd leave the table with utter relief. A treacherous, dangerous way to think, but she wanted to hope beyond hope.
Pansy was enjoying her grilled mushrooms when the owl carrying their newspaper was flying in, dropping it at the sink and waiting for her father to pay it.
Her father then returned to the table, unrolling it before stiffening for several moments, then exhaling and deflating instantly, running a hand through his hair. "It was only a matter of time, I suppose." He sighed tiredly.
She felt herself pale and her heart was pounding in her chest immediately.
"Penrose?" Her mother glanced at the newspaper and sighed. "Oh, dear."
Then Pansy took it with shaky hands, read the headline and immediately bolted from the table, the rest of her breakfast remaining untouched, her appetite lost as bile was rising in her throat and her stomach tied in knots.
Scandalous Soulbond Marriage! Secret Romance Between Parkinson Heiress And The-Boy-Who-Lived!
AN: There is no Quidditch World Cup Finale Attack because Sirius is dead, which is why Fudge did not send a whole host of them to the Carribean to chase a rumour. Thus, there are actually Aurors there during such an expensive, huge and international event as security. Attacking in Death Eater outfits, even drunk, would be a stupid thing to do then. Also: Barty did not cast the Dark Mark, Winky is not fired and Harry did not lose his wand. Aside from that brawl, it was a peaceful affair. Remember that Harry has been busy with a single-minded goal: preparing himself for when he will come face to face with Peter again. He won't underestimate him and is prepared to avenge his parents and Sirius and to bring Peter to justice.