Pansy spent the next half hour fretting over what Percy wanted to speak to her about. Was he going to lecture her about her attitude? Grouse at her for being insolent? She didn't know why she even cared what he thought. Garrison was her boss, not Percy. Percy's opinion shouldn't matter to her. But it does, a niggling voice in the back of her mind said.

She was saved the pain of finding out what Percy wanted to discuss, at least for today, by a last-minute meeting request from Garrison. Pansy sent a charmed memo to Percy's office, explaining she couldn't meet him today, and, several minutes later, a memo landed on her desk, folded into a small owl, requesting she stop by his office Monday morning. A hint of his scent lingered on the parchment, and she scowled at it and lobbed it into the rubbish bin.

That evening, Pansy absently dunked an olive in and out of her martini glass while her friends talked around her.

"You're awfully quiet tonight, Pans," Daphne remarked. "Everything okay?"

"I suppose so." She looked around the table at her friends. "Can I ask you something? Do you think I'm prickly?"

A look passed between Daphne and Astoria, and Theo and Draco burst out laughing.

She poked Theo, who was closest to her, hard in the ribs, and he let out a grunt. "It's not funny. I'm serious," she grumbled.

Draco spoke from across the table. "Of course you're prickly, Pans. What kind of question is that?"

She frowned. "Do you think it puts people off?"

"Why? Did someone say something to you at work?" Daphne asked.

She stared into her drink, picturing Percy's eyes flashing at her. "Yeah. Kind of in an 'insult framed in a compliment' kind of way."

"Since when have you cared what other people think about you?" Draco asked.

Daphne interjected before Pansy could respond. "Draco, she cares a lot about what other people think, it just depends on who it is. A Wizengamot member's opinion of her could make or break her career."

"Have you gotten on the wrong side of a Wizengamot member?" Theo asked.

She punched him this time. Theo made an easy target for her frustrations. "Of course not, darling. I'm not that dumb."

Theo leaned over and nuzzled into her ear. "I love it when you call me darling."

She elbowed him in the side and shifted away from him. "Can you be serious, just for once, Theo?" He made puppy dog eyes at her, and she dropped her head into her hands. "This is not helping, Theo."

"Okay, okay," he said. "I promise to be serious. So, seriously, what's going on?"

She glanced around at her friends, all of them attentive and waiting for her answer, and she tried to put into words the emotions swirling around in her brain, like Charybdis had taken up residence in her frontal lobe.

"I just… I may have insulted someone who seems to have a good amount of influence in the office — surprisingly — and while he seems harmless — I mean, he doesn't seem vindictive or anything — I realize, I don't really want to be on his bad side." She chewed on her lip, a wholly unrefined action she never partook in, though she didn't realize she was doing it until she saw Daphne and Astoria exchange another look. Or maybe their look was due to her stuttering, another graceless habit she never engaged in, until now.

"Maybe I should make an effort to get along with other people better," Pansy mused. "I have a real job, and the work is important, and maybe being a snob isn't serving me well."

Daphne said, "Pans, I don't think you should try to change who you are, but I also think making an effort to… suppress some of your criticism… might be a good thing."

Pansy scowled, but Daphne continued, undeterred. "You can be exceptionally critical. Which I think is good if you're on the Wizengamot. But maybe it needs to be tempered a little bit while you're staff? Like, hold it except when it really matters?"

Pansy glared at her. "I haven't been critical of him. I've just been an arse."

"Well then, don't be an arse, Pans," Theo said. "It doesn't sound that hard. It's kind of basic civility, when you think about it. I mean, even I'm capable of it, and look who raised me."

A collective silent sigh ran around the table. Theo's dad was a terrible person; how Theo had ended up being such a wonderful friend and human being was beyond Pansy's comprehension, and it only served to make her feel like more of an arsehole.

Pansy shifted back over, and lay her head on Theo's shoulder, and he tucked her in close and kissed the top of her head, ever the loyal friend.

"We love you, Pans, thorns and all—" Daphne said.

"—and you're strategic enough that you'll figure this out," Draco finished. "You're smart, and you wouldn't purposefully piss off someone who could actually break your career. So whatever you've done, either it wasn't that bad, or he's not as influential as you think. Your instincts wouldn't let you fuck things up three weeks into a new job."

Pansy wished she had the confidence in her actions that her friends had, but she let it go for now, nodding and assuring them they were probably right, and she was just over-scrutinizing her behavior. But deep inside, she felt that her behavior toward Percy Weasley probably was 'that bad,' and that the wizard was more influential than she'd originally realized.

She didn't sleep well that night; images of Percy with snakes coming out of his mouth haunted her dreams, and she woke up more than once tangled and sweating in twisted bed sheets.

Pansy donned one of her favorite outfits Monday morning, a black dress with white dots and a lower v-neck than she typically wore to work. She put on a black pushup bra, which gave her just enough cleavage to make it worth someone's while to look, but not enough to be scandalous in a work setting. If she were honest with herself, her goal was to make Percy notice her the way she noticed him, but she told herself she wore it because it made her feel confident.

She spent the early morning trying to calm her nerves while researching in the file room, and at half ten, she mustered up the courage to walk to Weasley's office, her pulse thudding in her ears for reasons she didn't fully understand. Raising her hand to knock at his open door, she paused her motion mid-air at his "Come in, Pansy."

Her insides twisted at the sound of her name on his tongue. She sat in one of the leather chairs at his desk, which was too deep; she had to sit forward on the edge of the seat for her feet to touch the ground.

Percy flicked his wand at the door, closing it behind her, and then at her chair, shrinking it so she was able to both lean back and place her heels on the floor.

"Thank you," she said, surprised.

"You're welcome."

For some reason, his thoughtful gesture inspired the fight in her, and some of her nerves fell away. "Why am I here, Percy? What do we need to talk about?"

He leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. "I'm not sure how we got off on such a bad note, Pansy, besides you threatening to castrate me, which was a bit overdone—"

She winced.

" —but I'd like for us to be able to work together comfortably." Though he wasn't smiling at her, there was more life in his eyes than any other time he'd spoken to her thus far: a little spark of fire, rather than the bland expression he usually directed at her.

"Now is when most people would say 'I would, too'," he prompted.

"Don't condescend to me, Weasley," she snapped.

"Percy."

She rolled her eyes. "Percy."

A wide grin spread across his face, his dimple disappearing entirely, and for a brief moment, something in his eyes — which she would later describe as predatory — made her belly roil.

"That's a good start," he encouraged. And then his smile disappeared. "I'm sorry if I've come across as condescending, Pansy. That's not my intent, but thank you for pointing it out."

Every time her name passed his lips, she felt a stirring in her core, but his words still irritated her. "Cut the crap, Weasley." He had the decency to not interrupt her with his given name this time. "You don't need to use your 'tools and techniques for good employee relations' with me. I get it. You think I'm a privileged twit who thinks I'm better than everyone else, and I need to tone it down, learn my place. That's why you asked me to come talk to you, right?"

"Merlin, you're always so defensive," he sighed. "No, that's not why I wanted to talk. I wanted to meet so we can figure out how to work together. I haven't seen you act toward others the way you act toward me, nor heard any complaints. So, I can only assume that your issue lies with me. So, what's the problem? What have I done — besides take your wand from you on your first day, which I think was entirely justified — that's got you so out of sorts?"

Pansy stared back at him while a variety of responses ran through her mind, all of which she rejected, before words poured from her lips, unfiltered. "You smile and laugh with everyone but me. Everyone else gets handshakes and encouragement, and I get 'Miss Parkinson, you're mighty prickly,' and 'Miss Parkinson, watch your language,' and 'Miss Parkinson, here's the agenda for today's meeting' and a view of your back as you walk away."

She sat up tall and looked him in the eye, refusing to show her mortification at the needy words that had just escaped her.

His eyes widened in surprise. "I thought you disliked me. I didn't think you'd respond well to attempted pats on the back, literal or metaphorical."

"I don't dislike you, Percy," she sighed, "despite my atrocious behavior at times. I don't have any problems being around you." Quite the contrary.

He sat quietly, waiting for her to elaborate. When she didn't, he said, "The others appreciate me being friendly. The Wizengamot is a stressful place to work, and it's helpful if I can model calmness and give people a boost with friendly chatter. It also makes me approachable when people have problems or concerns. And the Minister's office and Wizengamot members see that, and it means I have a built-in level of support when I make my own bid for an Undersecretary position."

"What, so your behavior's all an act? Just a way to gather support for your future political aims?"

"No! Merlin, that's such a Slytherin way of seeing things. I can enjoy talking to people and helping people, while also caring about my political future. But that's beside the point." He pinned his blue eyes on hers, intent and serious. "If you don't like me, fine, but we need to be able to interact without every word I say irritating you and without you continually snapping at me."

"I told you, I don't dislike you. I just—" I want your smiles, too.

After a few beats of silence, Percy spoke. "You're not giving me much to work with here, Pansy."

She would be brave. "I want your support, like you give everyone else, without feeling like you secretly think I'm a spoiled brat. I realize the way I've acted doesn't give you much reason to think differently, but I'd like to try."

"I don't think you're a spoiled brat, Pansy. I'm sincerely sorry if I've given you that impression." He rose and walked around his desk, and she rose too, unsure what he was doing. He reached out his hand, indicating she should take it, and she clasped hers with his. He shook it, and his palm was warm, his skin smooth against hers.

"I'll treat you like everyone else, but you can't throw it back in my face like you have in the past when I've tried, or twist my words into something condescending when they're not."

He was still clasping her hand in a handshake, and half of her mental capacities were entirely focused on the feel of her palm in his.

"I don't want you to treat me like everyone else." I want you to treat me like I'm special. Like you see more in me than you see in other people.

He raised a brow, not understanding what she was asking for.

She huffed. "Dammit, Weasley, why do you insist on making me spell everything out?"

He looked genuinely confused now. Without thinking about it too hard, she shifted her hand and laced their fingers together, silently willing him, and maybe even herself, to understand what she didn't know how to put into words.

His eyes widened at her gesture. She started to pull away, thinking she'd made an awful mistake, when he tightened his grip, bringing her closer to him.

Now she was looking fully up at him, with less than two feet of space between their bodies. He smelled divine, and his eyes honed in on hers, lively and full of emotion. She vaguely took notice of the tortoiseshell frames, which might have been her favorite, and she was aware of the rise and fall of his chest.

His full lips spread into a sweet smile, the one with the dimple, aimed directly at her, and her breath caught. She wanted to kiss Percy Weasley. Right here, in his office, with his hand in hers and his scent of wood and citrus peel flooding her senses like a stream flowing lazy and unhurried through its boulders on a late summer day.

He inclined his head, and her eyes started to flutter closed, when a sharp knock sounded at the door. They jumped apart, and a rush of adrenaline lodged Pansy's heart in her throat.

Percy schooled his features and pulled his wand from his thigh holster, opening the door. The Undersecretary entered, acknowledged Pansy, and then launched into a discussion of this afternoon's legislative proceedings.

"We can finish our conversation later," Percy said while Hephzibah continued talking. "I'll send you an owl."

As Pansy walked back to her desk, she realized that, for the first time since she started this job, she had absolutely no clue what Percy was wearing today.

A folded owl landed on her desk after lunch. Pansy - Meet me in the file room at four o'clock. - Percy