CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: The Kitchens
Even though Pansy Parkinson hated everyone, she hated especially four people right now. It involved Blaise, Theo and Daphne sitting by her door, apparently 'being good friends' and 'not wanting to leave her alone in the time of need'. For Merlin's sake, why couldn't they understand she wanted to be left alone? So what, someone she loved confessed he loved her too and then left with something that barely resembled explanation. It didn't mean she needed a fucking rescue party. Or an intervention. Or whatever they were trying to do. She snapped at them more than once today and yet, they were still sitting by the door of the Requirement Room where she'd spent almost all week. And she could hear them urgently whispering. All. The. Time.
She was suspecting they didn't even know what'd exactly happened. Draco wasn't the most opened person, not when he couldn't boast about something. Maybe Theo knew or suspected, but since he was loyal to Draco, nobody else would ever find out.
She was leaving the room just for classes. Sometimes, she would come down to the Great Hall for a meal. But she knew that it wouldn't last – Draco still had his mission – which meant that he had to do something in the Room of Requirement. And she wanted to avoid him at all cost. This is why she decided to stay there until Friday – she thought that with all these classes and homework, Draco would be busy as well. And therefore, will not come there.
Oh, how wrong she was.
Pansy was just getting back from Ancient Runes, ignoring Draco sitting near her, as much as she could. She sprinted out of the classroom to grab a sandwich from the kitchens. But when she went back to the Room of Requirement, there he stood. With two little Slytherin girls and a frown on his pale face, he studied the wall carefully. One of the girls noticed Pansy and whispered something urgently to Draco, who turned around terrified.
She didn't know what to do. Her first instinct was to run – but she didn't. She stood in place, not being able to move a muscle. While staring at them, she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, but didn't let herself cry.
'Draco. Gregory. Vincent.' she greeted them officially as if addressing a professor.
'Pansy...' said Draco with a pain in his voice, the other two standing awkwardly behind him.
Not being able to even look at him, she decided to stare at the invisible door to the Room of Requirement.
'Theo tells me you're not holding up well,' he said carefully, but it made her incredibly mad at an instant.
Oh, really? Was she supposed to be jumping out of happiness? Throw a party?
'Oh, no, I'm great,' she waved her arm dismissively with an unmistakable sarcasm in her voice. 'Just peachy. You know, just as a person should feel after such an enjoyable talk.'
'I'm sorry,' he whispered.
She could feel his apologetic gaze but did not look up.
'Why, don't be,' she sneered. 'After all, you know, it's the timing. Not the effort or intention. No.'
In the back, Crabbe and Goyle in the bodies of innocent little Slytherin girls looked horribly uncomfortable. But then she realised she sincerely didn't care. She finally braced herself and looked straight into Draco's steely eyes.
'After all, it's better to push everyone away? Hurt them rather than let them know about one's weaknesses and insecurities, isn't it?' she hissed, turned around and simply left, without looking back.
For a moment, she was hoping he'd chase after her or at least call after her... But obviously, nothing happened. He stood there with Crabbe and Goyle and did nothing.
She didn't leave the room for the whole weekend. Well, to be frank, she barely moved out of the bed. She managed to charm the curtains so that no one could lift them. Lying was easier. This way, there was no need for facing her problems.
It's not like Draco was to blame, for turning his back on everyone. She understood why this way made it easier for him to cope with the task like that. But it didn't change the fact that she was miserable and furious at the same time. He could at least explain. Somehow. Make them understand his situation better. Just... Something.
She angrily threw a book to the other side of the bed. She couldn't focus on it anyway, no matter how good it was. The worst thing was, she had to get up sooner or later to get to classes.
When she managed to do that, reluctant as can be, she had to face Daphne, Milicent and Tracey.
When she appeared out of green curtains, the three worried faces turned around to look at her. Pansy felt incredibly uncomfortable.
'You're okay?' asked Daphne worriedly, standing up from her bed.
'Yup,' Pansy replied, not very convincingly.
'We should leave,' said Tracey, looking meaningfully at Milicent.
'You're right,' she agreed, to Pansy's surprise. 'We'll give you two some room.'
Parkinson watched in shock as the two girls left the room.
'What happened to them?' she asked Daphne.
'Believe it or not, they're genuinely worried about you.'
Pansy raised eyebrows sceptically.
'And they know that you won't talk to them, but you will talk to me,' Daphne explained calmly.
'You're saying that these two actually-'
'Yes, Pansy. You should give people more credit,' she explained, clearly irritated.
'Why would I do that?' she asked challengingly.
Daphne sighed heavily.
'You know how it is to be judged harshly,' she said distinctly. 'I know you're one to jump to conclusions as well, but maybe for once think about why is that.'
Pansy didn't want to think about it. It was easier to hate people. It didn't matter who hated her for being a Slytherin or who for bullying them. The fact was – they hated her. It didn't matter why. Did it?
She shook her head, dismissively.
'I don't care,' she said through gritted teeth.
'Sure you don't,' Daphne smiled slightly – as if she didn't exactly believe her. 'So, do you want to talk about it?'
Pansy glared at her, unsure what to do. Daphne's worried features told her she was genuine. She cared about her and wanted to help her. So maybe it would be okay to trust her? She'd never share any of this with Blaise or Theo, never. It was too embarrassing, and they were way too close to Draco. But Daphne...
Pansy sighed as she sat next to her on the bed.
'You know I'm not good at – er – sharing. You know, emotions and stuff. Feelings,' she coughed up.
Daphne laughed heartily.
'Of course you're not, darling. Not many of us Slytherins are,' she admitted. 'This is what alcohol is for. What would you say to a pyjama party?'
'Pyjama party?' Pansy asked sceptically. 'Aren't we a bit old for that? And what about the girls?'
'Weren't you hiding in that Room for days?' Daphne smiled mischievously.
'But what about… him?' she strangled but couldn't say his name at loud.
'He won't be there. I've got connections, don't you remember?'
Pansy finally managed to put on a delicate smile.
'There you go. But before we go, we need to snatch some elf-made wine from the kitchens.'
'How will we do that?' she raised an eyebrow. 'The elves won't give it to us.'
'We'll have to improvise,' she squeaked with happiness and took her hand, leading her out of the room.
'Now, get to classes, and I'll see you after!'
In the evening, they were standing before the painting, tickling one of the pears. It giggled and turned into a handle. They went into the kitchens, Pansy a bit reluctantly, but Daphne seemed very much in her element.
'Hello!'
At the sound of Daphne's voice, at least a hundred of elves gathered around them and asked how they could serve them.
'We'd like something special today,' she smiled brilliantly at them.
The house-elves started suggesting millions of things that they could eat or drink – but it was something else entirely that caught Pansy's attention.
'Wait, what happened to her?' she asked, and suddenly, the uncomfortable silence hung between them.
One of the house-elves sat by the fire, swaying in her seat dangerously. She looked as if she was crying just seconds ago.
'It's Winky, miss,' said a very bizarre house-elf with dozens of hats on his head and two different socks. 'Dobby apologises for her behaviour, miss, but Winky is very sad all the time.'
'Why is she sad?' Pansy asked automatically, out of curiosity.
A few house-elves howled at her words, apparently extremely surprised at the fact that she cared to ask.
'Winky was freed by her master, miss. Winky drinks a lot, miss.'
Pansy shook her head sadly. She didn't know what to make of it. On the one hand, she shouldn't be employed here if she was drinking. On the other, it was hard not to feel sympathetic to this poor creature.
'Winky has better than Kreacher,' said suddenly a raspy voice of a very dirty house-elf. 'At least Winky doesn't have a horrible-'
Dobby suddenly shrieked and shook his fists dangerously.
'Kreacher will not-'
He jumped at him and suddenly, both of them disappeared.
'W-what happened?' asked Daphne, surprised at the unexpected occurrence.
House-elves ignored the question and started listing things they could prepare for them. Pansy looked resignedly at Daphne – she had no idea how to snatch at least one bottle of elf-made wine. But after mere seconds, the two elves reappeared.
'Where did you go?' Daphne asked curiously.
'Kreacher didn't want to, miss, Kreacher has to serve a mudblood lover, miss, that Potter boy-'
'Potter?' shrieked Pansy in surprise.
Kreacher looked at her curiously, and some sort of realisation dawned on his pale face.
'Miss, you have to know, miss, you have to warn the Malfoy boy-'
Dobby stuffed his own sock into his face and started shaking him.
'Kreacher can't, Harry Potter is Kreacher's master, Kreacher can't!'
'What. Did. Potter. Do?' Pansy said through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at both elves.
'Kreacher can't, Harry Potter told Kreacher not to-'
'Harry Potter told Kreacher only not to tell Malfoy! Potter is telling poor old Kreacher to –'
And he was stuffed with a sock again before he could reveal anything more.
Both girls stared at the fighting elves with complete shock on their faces. It was clear they couldn't get anything more out of Kreacher – Dobby seemed stronger and much more dedicated.
'We should go,' whispered Daphne, so Pansy just nodded.
They left the kitchens in silence. It was definitely one of the weirdest situations they've ever seen.
'Well, there goes our wine,' Pansy said with disappointment.
'Are you sure?' Daphne asked with a devilish smile on her face, revealing two bottles from behind her cloak.
'How did you do that?' she tried not to sound too impressed.
'A girl never tells,' she winked.
Pansy Parkinson genuinely smiled, for the first time in days.