Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Harry Potter universe. I merely play in it. Pansy recites the first two lines from Kacy Crowley's 'Bottlecap'. I don't own that either.
Author's notes: The last pairing I thought I would tackle was Harry/Pansy, but it seemed to work out well enough. I'm sure it's OOC, but I tried, really I did. A bit AU as well. After I started this, I thought about how this loosely resembles Maya's beautiful 'Flame and Shadow'. Only not. And not as good.
Read and Review please! It keeps me going, really.
"I've been drinking and I trail behind broken glass."
The words that come from her mouth are slightly but unmanageably slurred, and the tired bartender pretends to understand what she's saying. "Sure Hun. Now, do you need help out so I can close up, or can you make it yourself?"
She glances around recklessly, barely registering the fact that she's sitting at a bar in the bowling alley. All she knows for sure is that there are a heck of a lot of balls just lying around. "I think I can manage sweetie. Thanks a bunch for the drinks."
She pulls out a wad of cash and sets it on the counter, wobbling slightly as she hops off the stool and sets her feet on the stained carpet. Two steps into her venture out of the alley, she falls into the arms of a messy-haired young man. "Get your dirty paws off'a me," she protests softly, her head beginning to hurt.
"Well, if it isn't Miss Pansy Parkinson. I must say, this is the last place I expected to see any of my former classmates, much less you." He levels her out, and she blinks rapidly before realizing the man in front of her is none other than Harry Potter.
Pansy mutters a few words under her breath before replying. "I'm not in the mood Potter, so if you'll kindly excuse me."
He blinks in surprise. "How can you go from incoherent to perfect English in two seconds flat?"
"It's a gift." Plus the fact that she is well-trained in the art of wandless sobriety spells. "Now, let's just forget you ever saw me, and we'll be happily on our own ways." She pushes away from him unnecessarily, making him stumble. He grabs back onto her briefly.
"Can we talk? I mean, four years is a long time, and I'm dying to know how the other half is living."
Talking about the past four years was the last thing Pansy wanted to do on this late Thursday night. Especially with Mr. Harry Potter, destroyer of all Pansy had lived for. "Well Mr. Potter, I must say that I don't feel the same way."
She would have stormed away had she not lost her footing completely, and tumbled to the quite awful smelling floor. She pauses for a second in surprise, then bursts out laughing. The few people in the alley look at her curiously. Then they look at Harry curiously. "Pansy, come on. You are too drunk to do anything."
"Anything but fall on my ass," she said in between breathless laughs.
He gives her a hand up. "Obviously. Come on, let's go sit."
The end lane is empty, for once. Usually, and actually just a few hours earlier, it was occupied by the neighborhood hoodlums, sneaking a drag of whatever they could get their hands on. The alley employees are the same age, so they just turn their heads. The area smelled of marijuana. "Well, now I know why you hang out around here."
Harry chuckles in spite of himself, and shrugs. "Yeah, I guess. It's a release from whatever you want to call my life. I've never seen you here before."
She runs a hand through her reddish hair, and purses her lips pensively. "I make my rounds. Last night it was the theatre on Harlin. They weren't too impressed with my digestive pyrotechnics, I think. Week before, I went to that new club in Diagon Alley. Hex?"
"I wouldn't know. I don't go around there anymore," he says dryly.
Pansy pushes up her breasts subconsciously, and Harry bites his lip hard. He tastes blood quickly. "Right. I knew that. Draco's the owner, so I get in free…free drinks and everything. Except the bastard limits me."
He nods, still watching closely to see if she'll fondle herself again. "So that's why you come to unsuspecting muggle establishments and proceed to get smashed."
"Basically. I get drunk. What do you do now, other than spy on your former classmates?"
He crosses his legs as hers spread a bit. "I'll have you know that you are the first person I've seen other than Hermione and Ron since graduation. I don't make a habit out of spying, really. I leave that to the Slytherins."
"Oh right, Granger and the Weasel. What an absolutely sickening couple. How many have they spawned now?" She knew of course. Three stereotypical Weasley's running around a sensible flat. Jealously corrupted her usually superior thinking when it came to them.
"Three. Hannah, Richard and Harry. I told them not to name one after me, but they insisted."
She smirks. "I'm sure they aren't the only ones to name their first born after the great Harry Potter."
He sighs in reply. "Yeah. I'm sure in seven years every other boy at Hogwarts will be named Harry. Snape will commit suicide."
"That's what you'd like, I'm sure. I just feel bad for those girls named Harriet. I never did like that name."
He chuckles and slumps a bit in the plastic looking chair. It's a nasty looking orange. "Why are you doing here?"
"My memory has been modified for me to only know that you raped and pillaged me, leaving me in the bowling alley bathroom. Draco and Blaise will have a picnic ripping appendages off of you." She was using sarcasm of course, and Harry remembered enough of Pansy to know this.
"After you threw yourself at me."
"I don't know what you're talking about Potter. You just don't have that magnetic personality."
He shrugs, a popular motion for him, and nods in agreement. "I guess I really don't. I'm still asking myself why you are sitting here with me."
Pansy stands up. "You can ask yourself why I left, too."
Harry stands up immediately after her. "Please don't leave. I like talking to you. You can make fun of me for being so pathetic later."
"As I plan to," she replies, grabbing his hand. "Come on, we are going for a walk. I'm sobered up."
Harry makes the quick assumption that Pansy handles her drink extremely well after she walks just fine away from the circle of chairs. "Where can I get your kind of liver?"
"What the hell are you talking about Potter? Your abstract way of speaking is giving me a terrible headache." They were pausing in front of the video games, where a few teens in ugly flannel play Pac-Man over and over again.
"The liver. It helps wash out the alcohol. Or whatever. You can't pin me for an intellidrinker."
She winces in the direction of the flanneled back. "Um, right. Remind me if you ever even think about wearing flannel. I'll have a legitimate reason to kill you."
Pansy pulls him ahead, out of the alley. "I'll keep that in mind. Where are we going, exactly?"
The bright lights mixed with the late night gave them a feeling of freedom and even mystery. Harry doesn't know if he wants to be led around the town late at night with a Slytherin. "Oh, I don't know. The night is young. Do you Gryffindors always have to have a set plan? Maybe you've just been around Granger for too long. Is it true she has a checklist for when she and Weasel get down and dirty?"
He blushes. His best friends' sex life is not something he focuses on exclusively. "I don't really know Pansy, I've never enquired."
"The way you all clanned together in school, I wouldn't be surprised if you had been involved with them, even once." They walk slower now, so they don't have to make a decision on where to stop. Harry wonders just how much Pansy assumes.
"Having an orgy with Ron and Hermione is like you, Malfoy and Millicent having one, I'm sure." She gives him a sneaky sort of smile, and he shutters.
"Draco is amazing in bed. And Millie, well, the things she did with her tongue—" Harry cuts her off before her eyes can get any mistier.
"I knew you Slytherins were close, the inbreeding being the main basis of my insight, but that's just going way over the line."
Pansy grins, showing her white teeth in the neon darkness. "It's actually just leaving things to the imagination Potter, really. And although that threesome has happened, it never will again. Nothing wrong with trying everything once."
"Actually, there's a ton of things wrong with fornicating in a bed with both Draco Malfoy and Millicent Bulstrode. I wasn't even sure if Millicent was a female until seventh year when she dropped that weight."
She stops them in front of a tattoo parlor that flashes the sign 'We'll stick you anywhere'. "I miss her, sometimes. I know no one else does, and the people that do are locked up in Azkaban for life."
"Maybe if she didn't bark when you tried to talk to her."
Pansy smiles wistfully. "A joke, of course. She had a great personality."
"Yes. I'm sorry, really, Pansy. I didn't mean it. I had forgotten."
"Like everyone else. It's fine Potter, no need to get all Hufflepuff on me. Do you want to go to a club?" She wipes her eyes with a hand, but Harry sees no tears.
"I guess. I really thought you were going to find a statue and piss on it. That's what my last date did."
"Oh, funny Potter. One, I don't do statues. Two, I don't piss in public. Three, this is not a date. You are the one who begged me to stay with you, if you recall correctly." She is grinning again.
"Yes, okay, it hasn't been that long ago. What club?" He hopes she is familiar with the popular muggle clubs. He knows that isn't where he's going.
"Well," she said, ticking off fingers. "You have two choices. You can go to Hex with me, since I have business to attend to with Draco. Or you can come to Rage, which is a gay club. I like to talk to the men about shopping."
Harry saw that he had one choice here. He did not want to leave Pansy yet. "I suppose I'll go to Hex with you. But if you say anything about the conditions between me and Malfoy, I'll leave. I know you want me to stick around."
She nods slowly as she grabs his hand. "You are amazingly self-assured. Come on, The Leaky Cauldron is just around the corner from here."
He must have conveniently forgotten. Their hands stay loosely connected as Pansy leads him to the familiar door, with the wordless sign hanging above the door. "Hello Tom."
"Miss Parkinson. The usual?" Harry relives the scene that had played before his eyes the first time he had been in the pub, with Hagrid. He really misses the giant sometimes.
"No dear, I'm off to see Mr. Malfoy. Say hello to Harry." Her grip tightens around his fingers a bit.
"Bless me, it's Harry Potter! Welcome back Mr. Potter!" The old bartender grins happily, as if he has found his lost puppy dog. Harry wants to disappear.
"Thank you Tom. We really must be going." He pulls her along now, and she waves at Tom as he drags her to the familiar wall of bricks.
"Well then, you are the male of this operation. Aren't you going to open the door for me?"
Harry frowns. "My wand is buried in my underwear drawer at the moment Pansy. It isn't going to help us, being there you know."
"Men. I swear, this is the last place I take you." Pansy pulls out her wand swiftly and taps the correct bricks to open a dimly lit Diagon Alley.
Harry hopes that Hex isn't located in Knockturn Alley. "The club isn't in Knockturn Alley, is it? I mean, Malfoy does seem to like that place—"
"No, it's on the main strip. The war is over you git. The last thing Draco wants is for people to think that he is still involved with the Death Eaters." Pansy speaks with venom.
"Could have fooled me."
She lets go of his hand and storms forward. "Potter, I can very well just leave you here in the middle of Diagon Alley if you don't get over the fact that we aren't the enemy anymore. You must have realized this already. Four years ago, you wouldn't have left yourself alone with me."
"No," he agrees as he follows her down the empty street. "But that was before."
She pauses again, and turns around. "Before WHAT Potter?"
"Before this." He kisses her. There are no fireworks. No onlookers gaping. Their teeth clash a bit.
She stumbles back as he releases her. "I'm going to pretend you didn't do that Potter. Come on."
He watches her wipe her hand roughly across her mouth as her strides increase in speed. Maybe he had picked the wrong time for that. "I'm sorry."
"About what?"
"Um, nevermind then." Harry picks up his pace as he follows behind her.
They are silent until she stops suddenly in front of a door blocked by a beefy young man that Harry identifies as Crabbe. Goyle was in the same boat as Millicent. "Hey Vinnie, nice night huh?"
"I guess so Pans. Who's your date tonight? Nice to see it's not Oden's Firewhiskey."
Pansy shoves him friendly like with her curled fist, and laughs falsely. Crabbe recoils a bit and rubs his arm. "Real funny there Vin. Actually, this is Harry Potter, and he's NOT my date, as much as he might like to think so. Talk to you later."
She flounces inside the club. Harry stands outside for a second. "Hey Crabbe."
"Uh, hi Potter. You'd be better to follow Pans in there. It's a bit crowded and I'm sure the last thing you want is to get lost in that crowd." Harry has never heard Crabbe speak more than 4 words. And that was when Ron was occupying his obtuse body.
"Thanks Crabbe. Talk to you later sometime." He makes his way into the club awkwardly.
Pansy squints at him. "Thought I'd lost you for a second there. Of course I knew that Crabbe isn't one for making intelligent conversation. Come on, Draco's expecting me."
Again, she grabs his hand, but this time it's strictly business. The regulars; there are only regulars this time of night, watch him closely as he disappears behind the bar and through the swinging door with Pansy. "Does Malfoy know I'm with you?"
She presses a finger to his lips quickly, and shakes her head. He fears for his life.
She knocks assertively on the blank door in front of them. There is a soft 'who is it'. "It's your wife."
Harry can't stop surprise from splashing his features. He hears 'come on in love'. She looks back at Harry with a straight face. "What?"
She opens the door, and pauses in the doorframe, waving Harry on. Harry feels like an absolute imbecile for not noticing sooner. She walks into Draco's sizable office, and pecks him gently on the cheek. "Draco, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine."
Harry pokes his head in the office cautiously. He knows he isn't making it out of the the building alive, after making out with Malfoy's wife, and just being here in the first place. "You brought POTTER here?"
"He helped me out of the bowling alley."
"Hi Malfoy. You know, I didn't mean to kiss your wife. And I didn't mean to not let her go when she said she didn't want to stay. Don't kill me." He doesn't want to sound so pathetic in front of his former enemy, but the blond makes his knees weak.
Draco shot Pansy a curious look. "You let this filth KISS you?"
"I don't remember any kiss. What are you talking about Potter? It was ME that got smashed earlier, not you." She stares at him hard. He gulps.
"Oh yeah, silly me. What's up Malfoy?"
"Other than being very confused, nothing Potter. What is he talking about Pansy?"
"Poor Potter seems to believe that we are actually married." Oh. It was a joke, he thinks to himself. Not a very funny joke.
"I'm gay Potter. And although Pansy has great legs, she doesn't have essential boy parts. Which generally turns me off. What brings you here? I haven't seen you since the war." Pansy hopes he doesn't add anything rude. He does not.
"I'm just here with her. I salvaged her life from the evil we muggle folk like to call the bowling alley, and felt I needed to escort her to capable hands."
"You're still as funny as I remember Potter. Really now, you think I don't know what a bowling alley is? Pansy likes it because she can cleverly overdrink and the bartender never stops her. She used to do that here before I became keen to her. But thanks, I guess." He webs his fingers together on top of his desk and tries to look important.
"Bully for you, then."
Pansy has had quite enough of this already, even if it was a fairly kind exchange. "Draco, I…"
Draco rises and shakes his head. "I have to go, dear. Date with Blaise. I'm afraid whatever you need to discuss will have to wait until later morning. Perhaps even early afternoon, depending on his mood."
Pansy shoots a look at Harry before sneering at Draco. "Damn it Dray, all these years, and you are choosing Blaise over me?"
He kisses her cheek this time, and shrugs. "Yes actually, I am. Besides, you have Potter here to console you and or to deal with whatever problem you are having this time. But if he hasn't helped, which he just might as well not, come back to me."
She huffs unpleasantly as he grins at Potter. "Well, it was just grand to see you Potter. You are looking quite well. Talk to you later, I'm sure." He taps Harry's cheek with a pale finger, and leaves the office with a lingering 'lock the door!'.
"Sometimes I don't know why I put up with him," she says softly as she sits in one of the plush chairs.
Harry sits in a chair next to her. "That whole 'it's your wife thing' wasn't very funny."
"I thought it was very funny." Her face brightens a bit at the recent memory of his face.
"Well, I thought the fact that Malfoy chose Blaise over you was funny."
"Shut up Potter. You knew all along I wasn't involved with anyone, or you wouldn't have kissed me earlier." She brings this up because she wants to clear the air. He's probably just horny. Guys are always just horny.
He sits silently for a few moments. His hand settles over hers. "I would have kissed you either way. Come on, let's go dance or drink or something. Just sitting here in Malfoy's office is giving me the creeps. Who knows what he's done in this very chair." Harry shutters for good measure.
Pansy laughs, and stands up. "The first good idea you've had all night Potter."
The club has since emptied out even more since they had passed through just minutes ago. The music has faded into muggle hits from the early 90's. "I'm not a great dancer, you know."
Pansy knows this. "I would never have thought Potter, considering you can't even stand steady on your big clumsy feet."
Potter grins a bit as he wraps an arm around her slim waist. "You're one to talk Pansy. Besides, you know what they say about men with big feet."
They manage to move to a steady beat. She knows she can dance better zonked, but for being sober it's okay. "You aren't that bad Potter."
"I know. I make my rounds to the muggle clubs when I'm not busy at my job."
"What do you do?" She can't remember, but she just might asked him this earlier, before their conversation had veered else where.
"I'm a cop."
"That's about the last thing I would seeing you do. After a Telemarketer though, I think. I can't see you asking people if they'd like a second washer or dryer." A cop, really. He was the sort that arrested girls like her that forgot who they were in the course of a night.
"Yeah. But I'm rarely on duty. I like to know all about the action without actually being involved in it, you know? I work the front desk a lot." She releases her slight tension. He would not be one to find her on a deserted street. Why she is worried about this she does not know.
"Interesting. Really."
"Do you do anything? Other than bug Malfoy, and drink?" He looks geniunely interested, besides the light sarcasm of course, she notes. Harry is geniunely interested. He does like her, he decides.
But she can't think of something good to say. "Not really, actually. My father left me with a small fortune, so I basically mooch off of that. I had a job here for a while, but Draco let me go after I abused the merchandise. Sweetheart, really."
"Yeah, sure. Don't you ever want to go out and do something with yourself?"
Perfect Potter WOULD say that to her. He didn't feel important unless he was making a good name for himself. Oops, a little late for that. "I do have a name for myself. People know me. I told you I get around."
Harry looks around the club cautiously. "Let's get out of here."
"Already? They haven't even played 'Tainted Love' yet." It is always the last song of the night. Owner's choice.
"I don't give a toss. Come on."
So they walk out to the empty Diagon Alley strip again. They hold hands again, although neither really register it. "Are you happy?"
Harry wants to know if she's happy. "Depends on what you call happy, really. Slytherins aren't familiar with happiness anyway, you know, except for the time in sixth year when we won the house championship."
"Just because Malfoy got Snape to deduct 300 points from us."
Pansy rolls her eyes. "But you really didn't deserve that, now did you? Because it's completely fair that you were sneaking into his office to change your grades."
"That's just what Malfoy told him. I was in there to get ingredients for a potion."
"You know what? It was a long time ago, plus I'm in no mood to hear your bull. And no, I doubt I'm happy."
"What would change that?"
"If you left?"
Harry frowns. "You don't mean that."
Pansy shrugs and stops. "You don't know that. I would have a perfectly normal and wonderful evening even if you hadn't helped me out of the alley. I would have found an unsuspecting muggle that wouldn't care about having sex with a nameless, drunk girl. Yeah, I know, tough scenario. But yes, Potter."
Maybe he has been through too many Gryffindor-esque romances. "I guess. So do you just want me to leave now? I've escorted you here even though you didn't need it, made you reconsider your life without you even realizing it."
"You have had no affect on what I think of my life." She hates when she has to lie to herself.
"I have, too. You want what Draco and Blaise have. You want when Hermione and Ron have. You even want a real job like I have. You don't want to be an alcoholic. Your shell has been cracking all night Pansy."
Harry looks scared, despite the fact that he has just discovered all of her secrets at once. "You are amazingly self-assured," she murmurs.
"You said that already," he replies, and their lips meet again.
This kiss is neater. Both of their tongues tangle around for the same space, and teeth don't clink. Their bodies align together, making the cool spring night seem warmer. Her fingers rake in his hair, and his arms wrap around her form. Finally, after what seems like forever, they part. "That didn't happen."
Harry chuckles, and leans away from slightly. "It did."
They kiss again. And again. "Okay, maybe it did. But you need lessons on kissing Potter. I'm kissing a fish here."
"You can blame Malfoy then, I learned from him." Pansy's eyebrows shoot up her her hairline.
"You made out with Draco?"
"See, I can be as witty as you. 'It's your wife'." She huffs as he grins.
"Funny, Potter."
He links his arm in hers. "I know. You'll get used to it."
