AN: Thanks once again for all the kind words, favs and follows!
Also, special thanks to zombiefear101, for just being kind and encouraging! No worries, though, some random internet-rambo-troll won't discourage me. Plus, they were wrong anyway: the Nott who created the pureblood directory specifically left out the Potters because their name sounded common and muggle, as if it had been sullied somewhere in the past. I looked it up. :o)
It was with a lot of relief when Pansy finally flooed back to the comforting familiarity of Abaty Gwyn, the Parkinson ancestral home. Harry and the Weasleys and that insufferable Granger were all far away in that sorry excuse for a house called the Burrow. Meanwhile, she just allowed herself to let out a deep, deep breath.
Her mother placed a placating hand on her back as they got their bearings after stepping out of the fireplace and into the guest room. "That wasn't so bad now, was it, my sweetness?"
"We didn't kill each other. There's that," Pansy muttered while trying to get rid of the soot stubbornly clinging to her designer robes. She hated floo travel with a passion.
"Our home life would be quite the bore if it weren't for you and your tendency for dramatics," her father said with a chuckle and a kiss on her head.
Pansy huffed, but the small smile still stole itself onto her lips. "I'm not dramatic."
"You are so very dramatic, my little princess."
Her parents then led her to the sitting room, a couple of doors further down the hall towards the foyer, and sat down on their favoured armchairs, as did she.
"Biffy!" her father called out, the little creature appearing immediately with a bow.
"Biffy is ready to serve, Master Parkinson!"
"Tea and dessert."
"At once, Master Parkinson!" the house-elf squeaked before disappearing with a pop.
Her father then sighed heavily and tiredly, leaned back against his armchair, ran his hands over his face and then looked at her expectantly. "How was your time alone with Harry Potter?"
"Quiet, for the most part," Pansy answered with a thoughtful look. "He asked what was expected of him...you might need to sign his permission slip for Hogsmeade, father," she added. "You can do that, right? Because, apparently, his muggle relatives he is staying with won't do it and he won't say why."
"I will speak to Professor Dumbledore about that," her father promised then indicated for her to continue.
Annoyed, she slumped a bit in her armchair at that but sat upright again after her mother cleared her throat and gave her a reproachful look. "There wasn't much else. We didn't talk all that much. But his friends threatened me, just in case I ever thought of hurting the Boy-Who-Lived." She snickered behind a hand covering her mouth.
"The Weasleys do appear quite fond of him, don't they?" her mother mused. "Does he have troubles with those muggle relatives of his? Not that it is any of our business, but one cannot help but wonder."
"As you said, Peony, it isn't any of our business." Turning his attention to her with a pointed look, her father raised a brow. "I hope you do not plan on pressuring him about this issue."
She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Pansy?" Her father took that tone with her.
"Fine. Not like he's telling me anything."
"Of course communication will be difficult at first, sweetheart," her mother tried to placate her.
"With him, it's not just difficult, though! It's frustrating! He won't tell me anything at all and he knows how to keep me out of his head, but won't even show me the basic decency and explain how!" she complained. It felt good to vent.
"Have you asked him?" her father offered.
Pansy scoffed. "I shouldn't have to! Besides," she continued, "with this stupid bond he should know anyway! He can keep all the secrets he wants, but I know – I just know – that he knows all there is about me."
"It won't get any better with this kind of attitude, sweetheart," her father said gently. "I understand that this is incredibly difficult for you, but you have to try. Once you have earned his trust I am sure he will open himself up more."
Pansy gave her father a befuddled look. "I don't want to earn his trust! I want this bond gone!"
"Do you think I enjoy this, Pansy?" her father suddenly asked her with a hard voice, making her jump. "Do you think I want our family to be removed from the Sacred Twenty-Eight? Do you think I want my daughter's soul bonded to a half-blood's?" He leaned forward and, for the first time since this whole fiasco had begun, she saw true lines of worry and stress etched into her father's features. "Do you think I want you stuck in that common room with the children of Crabbe, Goyle, Nott and other Death Eaters?" Pansy's breath hitched. "I am worried sick, sweetheart, believe me, I am. But I am trying to be strong for all of us and I am trying to make the best of this. You need to do the same."
"At least try it for yourself, my sweet," her mother urged her. "Do try to find some semblance of happiness in this. I do not wish for you to be miserable all the time and if the Boy-Who-Lived is as noble as they say, then he will at least see to it that he will help you whenever he can."
Pansy frowned deeply. "It's not like I have much choice, is it?" she asked in a low voice, distracted by a whirlwind of thoughts and worries.
"...we can talk about this tonight if you want," Harry offered hesitantly.
"I suppose."
She did not want to talk to him right now and cut her answer short, glad when Biffy returned with their tea and desserts to distract her.
"Miss Heiress Greengrass calls with floo, Master Parkinson!" their house-elf squeaked.
Her father looked at her questioningly and Pansy just sighed. "Tell her to come and find me in my bedroom. Let's just get this over with. Bring my tea to my bedroom and prepare a cup for Daphne as well," she ordered the creature before excusing herself to her parents.
Before she reached the door, her mother spoke up again. "Tell the boy that I expect him here tomorrow at ten in the morning."
She paused, wrinkling her brow. "Why?"
"We will have to take him to shop for new robes, of course," her mother explained with pursed lips. "He has to look like a proper husband for you. I will not allow him to embarrass you with his dreadful muggle attire."
Pansy nodded, then swiftly went to her bedroom, eager to drag that confrontation with one of her closest friends out for as much as possible. Upon entering, she began to pace restlessly across the room for Merlin knows how long and only stopped when her tea and dessert appeared on her table, joined by another cup and plate.
Taking a deep breath, she sat down on her bed, making herself comfortable, and waited and waited for her best friend to arrive. It felt like hours before, finally, her door burst open and Daphne stormed in, a wild look in her eyes. Her friend slammed the door shut behind her, closed the distance between them before Pansy could even say so much as a word, then grabbed her shoulders and shook her violently.
"Merlin's sweaty balls, Pansy, what the bloody hell did you do?!"
Annoyed, she took hold of Daphne's arms, pulled them forcibly away from her and sat her friend down on her chair. Then, she grabbed her cup, sat down on her bed, crossed a leg over the other and took a careful sip before speaking.
"It's all Harry's fault," she stated flatly.
"Hey!" His loud shout in her head made her wince and she almost spilt her tea.
"Oh, so it's 'Harry' now, is it?" Daphne gave her a queer look; a look, as if she had suddenly grown a second head or horns or something. "Seriously, how did this happen?"
Sighing, Pansy took another sip, then stared into her cup. "You know that night with the werewolf and Dementors?"
"Yeah? Wait!" Daphne leaned forward, shock and disgust written all over her face. "Potter didn't force this with a life debt, did he?!"
For a moment, she considered going with that, just to get back at Harry for this whole mess, but then she'd have to not only deal with his wrath but also her parents'. So, she groaned and went with the truth instead.
"No...it happened after he saved me. Dumbledore said something about magic itself witnessing it and some nonsense." Pansy shrugged helplessly. "Anyway, here I am, magically married to Harry Potter without a bloody way out of it."
"Morgana's saggy tits, Pansy." Daphne looked stunned and at a loss for words. "I thought only Potter and his idiots could get into all this weird shit."
"Well, as you can see, I got sucked right in just by being in close proximity. That bloody coward Draco...had he not just bloody ditched me..."
"And how does Potter take it? Have you seen each other since then?"
Finishing her tea, Pansy gently placed it on the table and just shook her head, breaking into a fit of hysterical giggles, all the while feeling utterly helpless. Daphne just looked confused and worried, which only made it worse for her.
"What?" Daphne implored hesitantly. "What is it?"
"I don't need to see him, Daphne," Pansy answered hoarsely after she calmed herself down. "He's in my head the whole. Bloody. Time. All because of this bloody soulbond."
Her friend just became even more confused than she did before. "What do you mean?"
"We hear each other's thoughts. I could talk to him right now just by thinking. Brilliant, isn't it?" she asked sarcastically.
"You have got to be kidding." Daphne was aghast.
Pansy slowly shook her head. "Oh, I wish I was, but I'm not. Isn't it great, though?" she continued, grinning almost maniacally. "So many couples would love to know what goes on in the head of their beloved and Harry and I, we get to have that!" Then, she held a finger up. "But wait, there's more!"
"Really?" Daphne asked warily. "This is already too much…"
"Oh, yes! Just imagine you and your significant other separated, but you want to see him so, so desperately: Harry and I can apparate to wherever the other is! Whenever we want! Despite never having apparated before and not knowing where the bloody hell the other even is!"
Daphne opened her mouth to say something but closed it again. After thinking for a moment, she shrugged. "Okay, but that sounds kind of neat."
"I know, right?! We are like...star-crossed lovers!"
And suddenly, Pansy just deflated and began to sob, tears beginning to fall freely from her eyes as the weight of her situation, of everything, came crashing down on her, once and for all.
"I h-hate this, Daph–Daphne," she whispered, her voice several octaves higher than usual and her face covered in her hands. "I hate this so much! T-the d-directory! And–and all the D-Death Eater ch-children in H-hogwarts! A-and –"
Her bed suddenly dipped to the side and she felt Daphne's arms quickly wrap around her, pulling her close with hushed words of comfort. Pansy removed her hands from her face, held onto her friend for dear life and just allowed herself to fall apart in the privacy of her bedroom.
When Pansy groggily woke up, it was already dark outside. She was still dressed in her robes and her bra was a source of major discomfort. So, she got up from her bed and prepared herself properly for sleep.
Only when she was dressed in her nightgown and had brushed her teeth and hair, did she crawl back in bed.
In a way, it had felt good to just cry it all out for once. She had put on a brave face, followed her parents' lead and even attempted some proper conversations with Harry. However, it wasn't enough. It simply was not enough to make her forget just what this whole thing actually meant. It was not enough to make her forget that she would miss out on so much on what she used to look forward to. It was not enough to make her forget about all the excitement that came with being a teenage witch.
Most of all, however, it was not enough to make her forget that the person she had forcibly been bonded to – for the rest of her life – was a person she simply could not stand. At all.
"Do you do this on purpose?"
She growled. "Do I do what on purpose?"
"Forget that all the things you whine about also apply to me? That I can't be with someone I like either because of this?"
"Is your family's name also being removed from a directory of privilege?" she hissed at him. "Are you also going to return to a common room full of children of former Death Eaters? While being branded a blood-traitor because of this?! Do you have any idea how terrified I actually am?!"
"Yes, I heard you cry."
Pansy felt herself blush with shame. It was to be expected, however. It was her new normal, that even her most private moments, like emotional breakdowns, weren't private anymore.
"Good for you." She scowled into the dark of her room.
There was no reaction at first, but she knew that Potter was there. He had so much better control than she did over this connection and she had no idea how.
"It's not so much control, but...distractions. I just distract myself with, you know, spells, homework, other things like that. If I don't think about you being there or the, uh, the bond, then, you know, it's easier."
It sounded stupid, but she might as well just try it out.
"Maybe it sounds stupid, but it works for me, so…" Again he didn't say anything for a bit. "I'd still do it again, you know."
"What?"
"Save you. I'd rather go through all of this than have the Dementors eat your soul." Pansy could almost see him shrug. "No matter how much I can't stand you, no matter how much I complain, you being alive is still worth all of the trouble."
"Even though your favourite, innocent mass murderer is dead?"
Now Potter growled angrily before he audibly breathed out to calm himself. She had to wonder if it was just mentally or if he had actually breathed out. She shook her head. What an odd thought.
"Why does it bother you so much that I just don't want to tell you things?" he asked her heatedly. "Is it really such a surprise to you that I don't tell you things?"
"Because I know that you know things about me I usually wouldn't have ever shared with you, just because I can't block you out as you do with me." Then she huffed. "Don't think that I want us to get closer or something. It's about fairness."
"You had a sibling who died, right?" he asked her softly and Pansy had to suppress the sudden urge to apparate straight to the Weasleys' shack and claw his eyes out. Besides, she was a bit too scared to just try it out. "I remember you thinking something to that extent in Dumbledore's office," Harry continued, "but that went away too quickly. Your dad this morning kind of confirmed it though."
"He didn't even say anything."
"He didn't need to. It was the way he said it."
Pansy exhaled heavily. He knew it anyway. What was the point in keeping this from him any longer? "Yes. Your brilliance knows no bounds, Potter. Yes, I had a twin sister and she died when we were four years old. Bravo."
"I'm sorry to hear that." Harry sounded genuinely sad on her behalf and she wasn't sure whether she appreciated it or hated it. He remained quiet for a bit before he spoke up again, reluctantly. "Sirius...was my godfather."
Her brows vanished beneath her fringe. "Come again?"
"Sirius Black was my godfather. He and my father were the best of friends. Peter Pettigrew was the one who betrayed my parents. He blew up the street, he killed those muggles and he cut off his own finger before disappearing. He's an unregistered rat animagus and hid away as Ron's pet rat for thirteen years."
Harry had actually done it and rendered her speechless for several, long moments. "Some grown man hid as a pet rat in Weasley's bedroom? That's so creepy!"
"Seriously? That's what has you so shocked?"
"I don't even know if what you're saying is true."
"I'm not lying. You told me something personal and I told you something personal in return."
Pansy started gnawing on her bottom lip but stopped immediately. Her mother would scold her something fierce for that. "I appreciate it." If what he said was true, then she could at least understand his anger and depression.
She didn't want to imagine what it must feel like to have family locked away for so many years – innocently to boot! – only for them to die so shortly after finally getting to know them.
"It blows."
A quick, unbidden laugh escaped her but subsided just as fast. This was still so terribly weird. And she still didn't like Harry and their whole situation.
"And the feeling is still mutual. But look. The way I see it...we both hate each other. We're both together in this bloody, shite situation. The least we can do is try and not make each other even more miserable than we already are, right?"
Pansy sighed. "Right. I've heard that one a lot already."
"Yeah. So, I think we should just work together, you know? Trust me, I want this even less than you do, but I don't see another choice. I am tired of the constant complaining and fighting and whatnot." He paused, hesitating again for a moment before continuing. "If things in Slytherin get as bad as you expect, I'll help you in whichever way I can, okay?"
She huffed. "What are you going to do? Break into our common room?"
"That's not as hard as you think," she heard him mutter, but before she could demand him to elaborate, Harry continued. "I don't know. I'll think of something. Got to protect my wife, after all, right?" he joked weakly, leaving her decidedly unimpressed.
"Are you serious, Potter?"
He cleared his throat. "Too soon?"
"Much too soon." The following silence was awkward, but Pansy knew just how to break it. "You are expected here at ten in the morning, by the way."
"Why? I didn't listen."
Pansy grinned evilly. "We're going to take you shopping, Harry," she said sweetly.
"Oh." His dread was palpable even through the bond.
She was going to enjoy making him suffer.