AN: Coming to this decision has taken me a few years, but, in the end, I have done it after all: this is a Harry Potter soulbond fic. But! This is not Hinny or Harmony, no. This is a soulbond between Harry and Pansy and about their journey from being enemies to becoming friends and eventually lovers. There will also be no love triangle or anything of that sort. People reading my fics should know by now that I am no friend of drama like that in my fics. This fic is starting after PoA.
Warnings: character deaths, nudity, eventual (underage) smut, violence, bigotry, (magic) racist slurs.
All Pansy had wanted to do was to sneak out with Draco and see what Potter and his sidekicks were – once again – up to, that would prompt Professor Snape to storm past them and out of the castle. Draco had been unable to resist his curiosity and, as stupid as she was, she went with him. Maybe he would have been impressed with her, after all? Surely he would have appreciated it? Or maybe –
"Draco?! Are you – shit!"
Stunned and disbelieving, Pansy stared at his retreating form as he scampered away, leaving her to her fate. She went to follow him, but a huge dog dashed past her, making her shriek and fall backwards. Her eyes sought out the animal and widened impossibly at Professor Lupin – common rabble, but at least a decent teacher, she had to admit – screaming as his body continued to reshape itself, bones and muscles shifting visibly in the full moon's light.
She stumbled away and quickly gathered herself up again, then began running somewhere, anywhere, just to get away from that – that creature.
A werewolf! A bloody werewolf! Our teacher is a bloody werewolf! Daddy will hear of this!
Tears of terror were stinging in her eyes and agonizing fear was clutching her heart. She just ran and ran, not a clue where she was even heading. Noises and voices were nothing but a cacophony in her ears, her surroundings impossible to make out. Pure and utter panic was dominating her very being.
She should have just headed to their common room. Nothing of this was worth anything at all. She was going to die, or worse, become a werewolf. For what? Draco's approval? Fat load of good that had done to her! He was probably safe and sound by now, back in the castle and she –
The dog whimpered in pain and she turned to see it being hurled through the air and land somewhere far from her.
Oh Merlin, please let that thing go somewhere else, pleasepleaseplease!
Skidding to a halt at the lake, a feeling of deep dread settled in her stomach and a chill washed over her. It was familiar because she had experienced it twice already – once in the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of their third year and once during that horrid quidditch match when Potter fainted.
Pansy glanced up at the sky and, true to her fears, a huge and dark cloud of Dementors were gliding silently straight towards her. How many were there? A hundred? A thousand? Either way, she dropped to her knees and clutched her head as if in agony. Resignation fought with defiance inside her.
"Help!" she screamed into the night, desperation taking over. "Someone! Please…" Tears were flowing freely from her eyes. Her own fear entangled with the Dementors' unnatural coldness affecting her caused Pansy to lose any sort of will she had left to fight before she was even really fighting.
She began to feel the overwhelming sense of dread as her saddest and most heartbreaking memories started to flood her mind.
Her pet kneazle dying of old age just before she started at Hogwarts.
Her twin sister touching that carved skull on their father's desk in his study when they were four years old. The following shrieks and sudden silence when she just collapsed, unmoving and unbreathing.
It was too much. It was too much and she fell face-first into the grass. This was how she was going to die – no, not die. Dementors did not kill. She would just waste away like a bloody vegetable.
She couldn't fight when the sensation of cold, wet and disgusting hands on her skin made her shiver. She couldn't fight when she was lifted off the ground and she couldn't fight when the endless abyss of a Dementor's mouth was in front of her. Pain inflamed deep inside of her, somewhere, everywhere. She could feel something straining, she could feel something begin to tear, an otherworldly sensation consuming her very being.
Suddenly, a weak light startled the Dementor and forced it to drop her onto the ground. A shivering, sweaty body covered her protectively – comfort, so alien now.
"Parkinson! Parkinson! Are you okay? Do you hear me?! Expecto Patronum!"
Another weak light as she was turned around. All she could make out was the blurry silhouette of someone.
"Are you okay? Can you – Expecto Patronum! – can you hear me?"
She gave a weak nod.
The person sighed in relief, cast that spell again, but he too got weaker. His voice started to waver, his spell didn't work anymore and soon he dropped down next to her. His hand was touching hers. It was comforting. Whoever it was, she was grateful that her last moments would not be lonely.
Then, an impossibly bright light illuminated the night, blinding her and sparking a sharp jolt through her fingers – the one touching the stranger's own. Where the Dementor's kiss had felt as if it was tearing something apart inside of her, that spark – that sensation – it was like lightning and then warmth, a blanket covering her in a cold winter's night. Despite herself, despite her terror, she felt a tiny smile tug at her lips.
Then, her consciousness slipped away.
Pansy blinked against the bright light blinding her as she struggled to open her eyes and it took her a moment or two to adjust against it. A groan escaped her the moment the pain she was feeling everywhere in her body registered in her brain. Her skin felt as if on fire, causing her to whimper.
"Miss Parkinson? Are you awake?"
She nodded weakly as Madam Pomfrey hovered around her bed, her stern features awash with concern suddenly appearing in front of her.
"...vile creatures…children...just children…" Hogwarts's matron muttered angrily as she swiftly waved her wand in complicated movements, probably making sure she wasn't hurt and whatnot. "Do you feel pain anywhere?"
"M-my skin...it burns…" She felt so weak and sluggish.
Madam Pomfrey paused with her wand movements to give her a curious look. "How peculiar. Mister Potter has said the same. And I shall give you the same answer: neither werewolf injuries nor Dementor attacks leave their victims with burning skin."
Potter. Such a mess and all because he couldn't stay out of trouble just once. Because Draco was a bloody coward. Oh, he was going to get an earful, she would make sure of that.
Pansy winced. A muffled noise rang in her ears as if someone was mumbling through thick layers of cloth.
"Are you alright, Miss Parkinson?" Madam Pomfrey asked worriedly upon returning with some bubbling blue potion.
"Yes...yes." She cleared her throat, concealing a frown. She took the potion without questioning the matron and gulped it down with a violent shudder, doing her best not to gag. "How long do I have to stay here?" she asked hoarsely after the worst was over.
"You will most certainly be staying until tomorrow at least, young lady," Madam Pomfrey answered while wagging a finger at her. "The headmaster shall come to see you any moment now as well."
Pansy nodded, resigned. Carefully, after the matron left her for the moment, she moved her head to the left. To her right, she had already spotted the ginger sidekick. On the bed she was looking at now, however, she could see the Boy-Who-Lived – or his back at least. He was on his side, turned away from her as he faced the wall. She squinted her eyes in thought. Was it he who had saved her? Was it he who had protected her against the Dementors?
"Potter."
She could see him take a deep breath and exhale slowly as he turned around. "What is it, Parkinson?"
That was rude. "That's not how you address your betters, scarface," she snapped at him, her annoyance clear in her voice and before Weasley in the bed behind her could say a word she continued. "Did you save me from the Dementors?"
Potter nodded once, tightly.
Great. Pansy took a breath. She could do this. "Well...I...t-thank you. I...I owe you one. My family's in your debt."
"Don't worry about it. It was...it was the right thing to do," he murmured, frowning and his eyes cast downwards, almost as if he was trying to convince himself.
Now it was her turn to nod once. Tightly.
That was that. Done and done. She had thanked him and he had accepted it. Now he could go back to being Potter, half-blood and friend of muggle-borns like Granger and squibs like Longbottom. And she...and she was the Parkinson Princess once more, ready and prepared to kick Draco's skinny arse.
"I'd love to see that."
Her eyes widened. She looked to her left at Potter again. He had a small, weak, half-hearted smile on his face while staring up at the ceiling. Had he said that out loud? His voice had sounded as if it had been in her head. No. She must be going crazy. Some kind of after-effect from the Dementors or something. Potter's smile turned to a frown.
Then, he sighed in annoyance before turning to face her again. "You seriously are talking a lot. And to yourself. It's creepy."
She blinked, her eyes widening even more.
"What are you on about, mate? No one said anything, not even Malfoy's girlfriend."
She flushed a furious red before turning around to face the weasel, pointing a weak and shaking finger at him. "Listen here, ginger! You better shut your mouth about things you know nothing about!"
"Or what?" He gave her a challenging look. "Malfoy likes to run to his daddy whenever someone is mean to him," he said mockingly, "so are you going to run to mummy?"
She smirked at him. "At least our families have the money to not make our threats empty. Your family, on the other hand, can barely afford enough to feed their children."
His ears turned red, the colour clashing horribly with his hair. He didn't retort, though. Satisfied with herself, she turned onto her back, a pleased smile on her lips. Nothing felt as good as putting her lessers in their place. The Weasleys were the worst, however. A pureblooded family with such a long and rich tradition and what did they do? Popping out more children than they could afford, the father barely earned anything because of his worthless occupation – seriously? 'muggle artefacts'? – and the mother...she had no clue about the mother. But – and that was the worst – they would rather mingle with rabble and half-bloods and muggle-borns than their –
"Seriously, can you shut up already?!" Scarface Potter all but hissed at her. "I've had it with you badmouthing the Weasleys!"
"She what?!"
"They are good people, okay?!" Potter continued. "Better than you and your lot will ever be!"
Pansy looked at him with utter confusion and a bit of panic. "I didn't say a word." Out loud.
"What do you mean, you didn't say a word?! I heard everything!"
"Mate, I hate to say this, but Pugface really didn't say a word. I mean, at least I didn't hear her say a word."
She would kill the weasel for calling her that, but that would have to wait for now. "What exactly did you hear me supposedly say, Potter?"
"You said –"
"Ah, the energy of youth." Their headmaster said jovially as he entered the infirmary with a small smile, which immediately fell upon looking at Harry. "I am so sorry, my boy. We found him, but…"
Confused, she glanced at Potter, just in time to catch a jerky nod and balled fists above the blanket.
"You have given a great sacrifice to prevent another family from feeling unbearable grief. I am saddened for you, Harry, without a doubt, but I have also never been prouder of you."
Another jerky nod from Potter, a sniffle and a choked up "Thank you, Sir."
"I don't want anyone's pride or pity. I just want Sirius..."
She gasped. "Sirius?! As in Black?!"
Potter turned to stare at her, shock and surprise all over his face. Professor Dumbledore didn't fare any better, glancing at her with raised eyebrows behind his half-moon spectacles.
"I do not recall Mister Potter saying a word, Miss Parkinson."
"B-but…" She had heard it, she was sure of that! But had she seen him move his mouth? "H-he said that he didn't want pity or pride or whatever," she explained, pointing at him but unable to keep her shaking arm still. "I heard him! He said he wanted Sirius! It's got to be Black, right?!"
Potter gave her a befuddled look. "I said these things...in my head. What're you doing in my head, Parkinson?" he asked her threateningly.
Pansy scoffed at him. "What am I doing in your head? Uhh, hello? You are the one reading my thoughts about –" She glanced at the headmaster, "– you know."
"Most curious," Professor Dumbledore said, stepping closer. "You can hear each other's thoughts?"
"...think something, Potter." She glared at him when he rolled his eyes at her.
"You stink."
"I'll show you who bloody stinks, you – oh, Merlin." She felt as if someone had doused her with a bucket of icy water. "You didn't move your mouth." This was terrible. She didn't want to hear Potter's bloody thoughts! What in the world was going on?!
"You know, I can hear your thoughts, as well," Potter said dryly. "It's not exactly a walk in the park."
Weasley laughed loudly behind her. "I'm sorry mate, but this is brilliant! Now you can hear her swooning over Malfoy whenever you want!"
Pansy flushed again in anger while Potter looked as if he was going to get sick. "I am not –"
"Children, please." Dumbledore's voice was soft but serious, silencing them immediately. "Mister Weasley, this may appear amusing at first glance, however, I must implore upon you the seriousness of this situation: our thoughts are our own. They should not be shared this easily and it is clear to me that some form of bond has been formed between Mister Potter and Miss Parkinson."
"A bond?" She wanted to gag. With Potter?! He glared at her and she rolled her eyes at him.
"Indeed, Miss Parkinson. Please, I must hear your perspective of tonight's events."
"Alright...so, Draco and I were out for a stroll, chatting about this and that, when Professor Snape just stormed past us. He basically ignored us! Anyway, Draco had a feeling that Potter and his sidekicks were in huge trouble, so...we followed him. Next thing I know, Professor Lupin is a werewolf –," Daddy is so going to hear of this, "– Draco ditched me –," you are so dead, you little coward, "– and some giant dog is fighting the werewolf, but the werewolf knocks him out. I run away and suddenly I'm by the lake and all these Dementors are all over me." Pansy shuddered and began to shiver. She still remembered that bottomless abyss for a mouth, the feeling of her soul struggling, the feeling of something tearing deep inside of her. "I thought I was dead for sure. I felt my...it was my soul, right? They were sucking out my soul, I felt it...but...Potter...well…" She shrugged, fiddling with the blanket.
"Did you feel anything after Harry saved you? Anything unusual?" the headmaster implored.
Pansy stared at the headmaster, doing her best to remember what exactly happened within that moment. She had barely been conscious, too overwhelmed with, well, everything, but one instance stood out. She looked at that particular hand, a tingling sensation shooting through it and her arm, spreading through her body.
"I...I remember, like...Potter was already unconscious and I was barely conscious as well...but I remember feeling, like, a spark or a jolt or something in my hand. It touched Potter's."
"And you were unconscious, my boy? You do not remember such an instance?"
"No, Sir. Do you – do you have an idea of what this could be?"
She narrowed her gaze in suspicion as the headmaster's eyes twinkled with mischief and amusement. "I may have an idea or two, but I do not wish to say more without confirmation. It would please me if both of you would show understanding and patience."
"How long do we have to wait?" Pansy asked him.
"I cannot give you an estimate, Miss Parkinson. I must consult with an acquaintance of mine first and he does prove difficult to contact at times."
She harrumphed in annoyance but nodded.
"The Dementors...are they gone, Sir?" Weasley hesitantly asked.
"Indeed. The Minister is also gone, as are Sirius Black's remains."
He looked saddened, as did Weasley, but Potter looked positively devastated. Sirius Black had been a serial killer. A psychopath! Why in the world was everyone acting as if some kind of hero had sacrificed himself to save a kitten or something?
Potter looked at her with unbridled fury, startling her. "What?" She shook her head, then returned her attention to Professor Dumbledore. "What about the werewolf?"
"Professor Lupin will leave first thing tomorrow, Miss Parkinson. There is no need to worry." The headmaster then smiled at them. "All of you better rest. I can feel Madam Pomfrey's annoyance with me already," he said, chuckling at his own joke. "Miss Granger is also well and will visit you first thing tomorrow morning. Good night."
"Fantastic," she thought sarcastically as Professor Dumbledore was leaving, "I can't wait to see that bloody know-it-all muggle-born. Ugh."
"It's not like she's coming to visit you, Parkinson," Potter said, his voice dripping with venom.
Pansy exhaled forcefully, staring at the ceiling. Merlin, this was a nightmare.