March 2018

She swirled her glass around, the clinking of the melting ice cube hardly audible in the hypnotic beat of the music permeating each corner of the club. It was no fire whiskey but bourbon would do tonight, especially after the busy week she'd had. Circe was one of her favourite clubs in London. Muggle-run and catering to a specific clientele, she was practically anonymous here. While the magical world was fully recovered from the Second Wizarding War, progress was slow and the freedoms she enjoyed in this world were bountiful compared to the attitude of some of her peers in Magical Britain.

Pansy snorted into her drink quietly, remembering her early days. Always trying on her mother's robes and make up, forever mimicking her snobbery and fawning over Draco. It was drilled into her to always be a lady, to put those who deserved it down, and to never show weakness, only superiority. So she did, year after year keeping her head high and mocking the Golden Trio and their fellow incompetent lions. Until she realised that instead of actually making her feel superior, it was leaving her feeling empty. One by one, her friends took the mark. Draco, Vince, Gregory… her father was rising in the ranks as well and mother was more than ever pressing on her to behave like the perfect lady, the future of the wizarding race, a young woman ready to be married once their Lord takes over Magical Britain.

The dinner parties she previously enjoyed turned into events for the loyalists showcasing their skills with torture. Her favourite shops began closing down one by one, owned by muggle-borns and half-bloods of exceptional skill but in danger of losing their wand or life. She felt more isolated than ever, realising there was no future with that monster in it despite the favouritism shown to her and all the other Slytherins during the reign of the Carrows.

She kept up the hard facade but no matter what she did or how proper she behaved, her reputation as the spoiled and easy Slytherin princess grew. It was true, she had once fawned over Draco, but they were still betrothed to be married by their families at that point, and she saw no reason to be apologetic for getting closer to her soon-to-be-husband. It didn't matter that she never actually slept with anyone but the blond, her confidence and attitude ensured there would always be malicious rumours about her 'easy virtue'. Damned if I do or don't, she thought resolutely as she finished her drink and motioned for the passing bartender to top her up.

Then of course the day of the battle came and Potter made it to the castle. By this point she was exhausted, scared, and just wanted it to be over. Her mother was dead and she was completely disillusioned about her own future. It wasn't that she hated Potter or wanted him to die. She started believing that Potter just might be their chance at freedom and a happy future some time after the fifth year. She didn't want to hand him over for slaughter but rather deliver him to the Dark Lord so he could end this once and for all. Of course she was considered villainous for ever suggestion handing over the Golden boy and taken away to the dungeons. Very few people actually knew that she joined Professor Slughorn once their defences were breached, and fought from the shadows against the Death Eater ranks. She shuddered when Greyback was finally killed, always having found him repulsive. She rejoiced when the Carrows fell and wouldn't be able to cast another cruciatus on their little first years. And she sighed a deep breath of relief when the Dark Lord finally fell by Potter's hand.

As the bodies of the dead were rounded up, she spotted her father's crumpled form on the ground and also breathed a sigh of relief. She would mourn once she wasn't so tired. At that moment, she was free from the clutches of her parents' expectations to marry a monster behind a silver mask, the Dark Lord's painful rule, and survived the battle that could have easily seen her die and end the Parkinson line. Of course there were trials. She was questioned before the Wizengamot, and since she was under veritaserum, she spoke the honest truth about her lack of loyalty to the Death Eater cause, and her participation in the battle. She never took the mark and never committed any crimes punishable by the assembled judges. Nearly twenty years ago, she walked out of the Ministry a free woman and the sole heiress to the Parkinson estate and fortune.

"Can I get you another one?" the words were spoken sensually into her ear, bringing her out of the fond memory.

She turned to look at the tall woman standing beside her chair, long braids tied into an elaborate bun atop her head, smooth dark skin glistening in the moving lights of the crowded room. Had she been in a different mood, there would be no hesitation in her response. Not tonight though. "I'm just heading off, but thank you. Perhaps another time?" she offered with a small smile as she finished her drink.

Sidestepping her companion, she headed out of the club and caught a cab home, unwilling to risk splinching as her head started getting fuzzy from the liquor.

"Kyra, it's good to see you," she smiled appreciatively at the woman across from her, offering her a seat across rom her desk. "What can I help you with?" she asked, curious about the visit.

Kyra Fawley was one of the most talented potioneers she had ever met, other than her old Head of House of course. Incredibly creative and resourceful, she was a true Ravenclaw and researcher, forever searching for her next inspiration and challenge.

She was lucky to have met Kyra. When she was starting her business, Pansy had a clear idea of what she wanted to achieve but struggled to get the business off its feet. Her potion skills were far from abhorrent but hardly instinctive, so experimenting with potions was most certainly not her forte. For three years she did her research into ingredients, the market and worked on potential branding ideas before meeting the fresh graduate by chance in an Apothecary. They started talking and it wasn't long before Pansy offered her a chance to prove her brewing skills. Kyra proved her worth by perfecting the formula for her line of moisturisers as well as experimenting with her suggestions for shampoo and conditioner, and coming up with a full line of products to suit different hair types. Pansy hired her as the head of research and brewing department immediately, and her brand 'Pensée' was born.

It wasn't extensive to start with, basic hair care and skin care products that were organic and harvested local ingredients. With the rise in social consciousness around waste and environmental impact, her products became quickly popular in the Wizarding world both in Britain and in Europe. As their population blended further with the muggles post-war, her skincare started reaching muggle audience so they made the bold step to adjust their formulas to fit both worlds. They were still brewed traditionally in cauldrons but couldn't be considered potions and therefore harmful for muggles. It was an instant hit, and with the rise in social media and online 'influencers', 2017 was so far their most successful year.

Over the past ten years they've spent many a meeting spread out over Pansy's or Kyra's desk and looking at different ways to improve the current line of products or introduce new samples. So far, every time Kyra approached her, they managed to design a product that added to a long list of happy customers and Pansy's multi-million empire.

"How is the improved formula for our Blue Tansy moisturiser sitting with the muggle market?" Kyra asked, shaking her head at an offered cup of tea.

"So far so good. Instagram is full of beauty bloggers testing it and we've updated our content with several beauty websites to accommodate the new formula specifications. So far it's a hit," Pansy offered a pleased smile.

"Good, I'm glad we were able to finalise the development on that one," she smiled and looked down at the proposal she brought. "I have something I wanted to discuss with you but it would be a bit outside of our regular approach," she indicated, pushing a stray blond strand behind her ear. It was always up in a hurried bun atop her head to keep out of her lovely face.

Pansy was admittedly intrigued by her hesitation, she had a feeling this will be either very good, or very tricky. "I'm all ears," she indicated for the blonde to go ahead as she flicked the window open and lit up a cigarillo, one of the very few guilty pleasures she allowed herself.

Kyra handed her a sheet of paper with various formulas and notes. "I know we've so far only used cosmetics for beauty purposes but I was thinking we could expand our line to deal with some other skin concerns and conditions," she began explaining. "There is a rise in popularity when it comes to products focused on soothing reactive skin, and lessening scarring and appearance of burns."

Pansy nodded. "I am aware of a few brands, both medicated and non-medicated that deal with these issues. Some are more successful than others, and their price can often mean they are not very accessible to someone on a low family budget," she pointed out.

Kyra agreed heartily. "Precisely. I was thinking we could come up with a formula that isn't magical like a burn salve but delivers similar results over time when used regularly as part of a skincare regiment. Burn salve is cheap as chips to make for us and buy for customers. We would want to obviously make some profit but keep the price down to create a competitive product that would be more affordable than the current options," she explained.

Pansy thought about it for a moment before nodding. "It could be a whole new line, minimal ingredients, as natural as possible," she started seeing a picture in her mind, something that would appeal to women of all ages dealing with conditions and physical scars that they may have been struggling with for years or affected their mental heath and confidence. This could be a real game changer for the lives of their customers, especially her generation that had its fair share of scars…

Her gaze returned to the woman across from her. "I sense a catch. What is it?" she asked.

Kyra sighed, of course it wouldn't be that easy. "I have minimal experience in this field and because it would entail potentially developing a whole new line of products, I was wondering whether you would be happy to hire someone with expertise in this field to help me build the formulas," she suggested carefully.

Pansy raised a brow in amusement. "So that's what you're worried about?" Shaking her head, she took a sip of her tea and a toke from her cigarillo. "If you tell me you need three new people in the lab, we'll get you three new people. I have no issue investing into an idea that has such incredible potential. Why were you do hesitant to ask?"

Kyra shook her head. "Because I don't need three new people, I only need one and I'm not sure you will like who she is."

The intrigue continued. "So it's a woman? I am only too happy to provide an opportunity for a female Potion Master. Where would we be if we didn't help each other into spaces that may be otherwise inaccessible to us?" she asked rhetorically. And Merlin knew that was the bloody truth, she had to build everything herself with no help from anyone, and most of her staff were incredibly talented people who struggled to gain fulfilling opportunities due to their identity in one way or another. As far as she was concerned, the more the merrier.

Kyra sat in silence for a moment, her green eyes clouded with worry. "Yes, but would you offer the position to Hermione Granger?" she finally asked, observing her friend and colleague for a reaction.

Ah, there's the catch. Pansy sat back in her chair, contemplating Kyra's words. Of course it had to be Granger. As much as she tried to stay away from media, the Prophet remained a good gage of the mood in their world so she continued to subscribe to it daily. The fact that the Golden Trio featured regularly didn't change despite the fact that it's been nearly 20 years since the war. Gods, she still had to get a gown for the upcoming 20th Anniversary ball…

"What makes you recommend her?" she asked curiously, focusing on the topic at hand once more.

Kyra handed over a folder. "This is her file and body of work. I think she has the expertise for the job and we have been colleagues and acquaintances for a few years now, as the field is so small. I mentioned to her who I work with and she was surprised but said it must be an excellent opportunity. And I have it on good authority that she is quitting her job soon. I think we should snatched her up as soon as possibly and utilise that brilliant mind for our new line," she suggested.

Pansy took the file but didn't open it. "I have some time before my meeting at three to look all this over and have a think. I'll come down to the lab afterwards to catch up," she promised.

Kyra just looked at her for a moment, seeing the slight tightness around Pansy's lips. Pansy Parkinson was a mystery to many, despite how often the Prophet wrote about her. Nearing forty now she still had the slight curves and toned physique that hasn't changed for nearly two decades, or so she judged from the many photos gracing the front pages. Her dark hair was cut into a blunt bob and one side was usually tucked behind her ear in a trademark fashion. And despite the fact that she could have a good laugh, there were very few crinkles around her piercing blue eyes. Pug faced, ice queen, hard as stone - those were all names given to her by friend and colleague over the years but Kyra considered herself once of the lucky few who get to see Pansy's warmth when she laughed or got excited. Right now though she could see the hesitation around the edges of the closed off neutral expression and decided to bow out gracefully, seeing it was not the time to push Pansy on this. "Sure, I'll have a cup of tea ready for you," she offered before sticking her hands into the pockets of her lab coat and headed out to let her think on it. Hopefully in a couple weeks time, she would have Hermione brewing with her.

Pansy looked at the closed file before her, holding onto the edge loosely. She took another toke and buzzed through to her assistant Constance that she needed an hour without interruptions. That done, she kicked off her heels and got comfortable as she crossed her legs leisurely and opened the thick file. Her last memory of Granger was from about five years ago at a trip to the Ministry for one of her patents. She looked older, more confident, her bushy hair still wild but better formed into a mass of shiny curls falling down to her shoulder blades in an orderly chaos. And of course there was the scar.

She looked at the photo attached to the CV before scanning the page over to reveal a list of achievements, patents and accreditation. Head of Department for Regulation of Magical Creatures by 27, werewolf and vampire rights lobbyist, research into cure for lycanthropy, patented human blood supplement potion and improved version or wolfsbane, research into curse scarring and medicinal potions for creature-caused injuries… One thing hasn't changed, Granger clearly remained an over-achiever.

Then she spotted the gap in employment for two years. No one really knew what happened, only that she returned with that scar on her face and was clearly no longer fully human. The last entry was her current job, once again for the Ministry but this time at the Department of Mysteries. There was little detail next to that entry, only indication that it involved brewing. Interesting, and Kyra said she wanted to leave her current job? She wondered what they were paying her there and what her reasons were for leaving such a prestigious position…

Pansy wasn't a betting type so perhaps she owed it to herself and to Granger to actually interview her and find out why she would want to work with her. She leafed through the attached copies of patents and other awards before closing the file after one last look at the photo. A lot can happen in 20 years, she wondered whether they would last in the same room for more than ten minutes….