Like a Rose
dangerous-fox
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"Love is much like a rose; beautiful and calm, yet willing to draw blood in its defense"
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Chapter Two » Pansy's POV
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Three weeks into the new school year, and I'm the laughing stock of the whole bloody house. No, I take that back… not only are the Slytherin's laughing at me, but every other student in every other house is too. Probably more so.
I hate this.
I hate Ronald Weasley.
When I had been made prefect at the beginning of my fifth year, I had been elated and a little bit relieved. Though, when I had told my parents about it, I had pretended that it was nothing special. I know for a fact that my father didn't think that it was anything special. He didn't even look up from where he had been sitting and reading the Daily Prophet. All I got was a short non-committal grunt.
Both of my parents had been prefects when they were at Hogwarts, so I suppose it wasn't really such a big deal in my family. But still… you'd think that he might have offered some sort of sign to show that he's proud.
My mother, on the other hand, was quite openly rapt with the news and bought me a new dress-robe. One that I had been eyeing for quite a while. "My precious little girl… a prefect!" she had murmured under her breath while reading the letter, "well, of course! Who else would they give it to…? That beastly Bulstrode girl? Heaven forbid… even Dumbledore would have more sense than that!"
A week before sixth year was due to start, Dumbledore decided that he wanted to hold a special 'leadership training' day for all prefects and head students. A load of crap, in my opinion. But still, if I wanted to keep up the 'good girl' routine that I had gotten into the habit of putting on, I had to attend.
Yes, I do in fact have a 'good girl' routine.
You see, I learnt early on, that in order to be successful in the world (regardless whether it is Muggle or Wizarding), you had to be well liked. And everyone knows that acting bitchy doesn't exactly get you a lot of friends. Normally, I wouldn't give a stuff about friends, but father had made it clear that he has high standards set. He wants his little girl to be a powerful witch. How to achieve that?
Suck up to the adults.
And only the adults… who gives a fuck about the students? I don't.
So while the teachers, with the exception of Snape, think I'm the model student (second only to that mudblood - Granger), the students know better.
Walking onto the Hogwart's Express to get to the school a week early, I hadn't been too surprised to see Malfoy lounging in the corner seat of the prefect's carriage. Who else would the other prefect be, but Draco Malfoy? However, I was most definitely surprised and extremely agitated to find that we were to spend a whole week with Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. I mean, okay… Hermione was pretty much a given for prefect… but Weasley? What in the Dark Lord's name, was that old crack-pot Dumbledore thinking?!
Draco and I had exchanged a brief, amused look. Our bets had been on Potter for prefect.
Thinking back on it, I wish that it had been Harry Potter who was prefect. After all, I'm sure that he never would've agreed to some stupid bet like Ron and Hermione did. He's much too honest to do something deceitful like that. The epitome of a perfect Gryffindor. Geez, it makes me sick. I'm also surprised that Hermione would do something underhand like purposely tricking another student to fall in love… so, my conclusion? It must've been Ron's idea. He is the type to come up with stupid, insipid ideas like that. He acts on his emotions – something that is always extremely dangerous to do in the wizarding world. Nothing gets you killed quicker than that… which is why I am always sure to keep my emotions in check. So what if others (minus the adults) think that I'm an Ice Queen? Better a live cold-hearted bitch than a dead lovable fool.
Ronald Weasley is exactly that… the biggest, lovable fool that you'll ever meet.
Snap.
"Oh, fuck," I mutter, looking down to find that I had broken my quill in half. Reaching into my robes, I pull out my wand and mutter, "reparo". The two halves join back together and repair themselves. Once it's as good as new again, I set it down on the table and look up distractedly when I hear snickers of laughter.
It's breakfast time, and I'm in the Great Hall, trying to get my Potions homework done. Millicent Bulstrode is sitting opposite me, her bulldog like face contorted into a sneer. What really irks me, is that while I was busy dating Ron, Millicent had somehow managed to take my place as Slytherin's Ice Princess.
"What's the matter, Pansy?" she asks snidely, "haven't done your homework yet?"
A couple Slytherin's around her laugh rudely. Oh yeah, because what she said was just fuckin' hilarious…
I stare back at her coolly, my green eyes drifting downward to rest on her homework that is laid in front of her. "Give me your work," I demand.
She blinks for a minute or two, slightly taken aback. I hadn't given her an order in such a long time, since before I lost my mind and went out with that red headed jerk. Her hand automatically moves to comply with my command, before she stops. Millicent shakes her head adamantly, "no, I'm not your little lap dog anymore, Pansy. You do your own crap from now on"
I push back my chair and stand up suddenly, causing her to shrink back a little bit. I'm not a very big girl… in fact, I have a slim, petite form. That Millicent Bulstrode, a troll of a girl and twice my size, would shrink back, is highly amusing. At least, I think it is.
However, she quickly recovers and glares menacingly at me, "don't think that you intimidate me anymore, Pansy Parkinson… because you don't. You're not getting my work, and that is it. I spent all night working on this"
"Fine," I shrug nonchalantly, "but good luck explaining to Snape why you don't have your work done"
She eyes me suspiciously, "what are you on about?"
Without a word, I reach across the table and take her parchment before she can stop me. I fold it in two and proceed to rip in half again and again. "Oh, oops," I sigh, "now look at what I've done…" Smiling innocently at her, I scatter the scraps of paper into the orange juice pitcher.
Millicent Bulstrode stares at the pitcher, her mouth agape and eyes wide. The other students around us just stare at me with a tiny bit of respect. It's something that the old Pansy would've done… not the new push over Pansy…
Gathering up my parchments and quill, I turn my back on the whole lot of them and beginning to walk away from the hall. Once I'm looking away, the smile drops from my face and is replaced by a scowl. I can't believe that bitch wouldn't let me copy her homework. Now what the fuck am I going to do?
Crash.
Oh, now what? Eyes flashing furiously, I look up sharply to see who the hell had just smacked into me.
Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley.
Well now, doesn't that just brighten up my day? Not.
Harry is avoiding my gaze, already stooped and picking up my fallen parchments and quill. Ron has turned red and is just standing there, hands wringing nervously. "Uh, hey Pansy…" he mumbles out, "how are y-?"
He is stopped abruptly by my glare. Harry breaks the silence when he stands up and hands me my things. "Sorry, Pansy," he says apologetically, "we - uh - weren't watching where we were going"
"What are you apologising to her for?" Ron demands to know in hushed voice to Harry, "it is as much her fault as it is ours!"
Snatching my homework away from Potter, I keep my eyes trained on the freckled-face Gryffindor. I'm about to snap out some rude comment straight back to him, when a short shadow falls upon the three of us. It's Professor Flitwick. "Something the matter here?" he squeaks, looking up at us.
I bite my lip to keep from screaming in frustration. Must play the model prefect act… I remind myself in my head while taking a deep breath to calm myself. "Not at all, professor," I say with a tight-lipped smile, before looking over meaningfully at Potter and Weasley, "we're fine… aren't we?"
Ron and Harry exchange dark glances. They're used to my sucking up to the teachers, but I don't think that they're too happy about it. Well, tough luck. As long as I keep on the good side of the teaching stuff, I can get away with more or less anything.
However, before they can reply or agree with me, another voice calls out from the crowd. "It's okay, Flitwick… Parkinson is just having a lovers' spat with her boyfriend, Weasley!"
The students around us in the hall start sniggering and laughing.
Ron once again turns bright red. Me? I'm seeing red… I'm positively seething. Even with Flitwick standing right beside me, it's all I can do to stop from pulling out my wand and cursing them all. "Excuse me," I mutter, before pushing Ron aside roughly and stalking away from the Great Hall. I could hear another comment and more laughter at my expense.
You just wait, Ronald Weasley… you just wait until I make your life a living hell. Think I'm a bitch now? Ha, you haven't seen anything yet.
"Something wrong, Princess?" a cool voice drawls the moment I storm into the Slytherin Commonroom. I look up distractedly to find the room empty, save for Draco Malfoy lounging on a seat in front of the fire - long legs kicked out in front of him and potion book open in his lap.
He sits there watching me nonchalantly with his calculating gray eyes.
Draco is just as much the laughing stock of the whole school as I am, how the fuck can he sit there so calm and unaffected?! In sheer frustration, I hurl my parchment and quill across the room, narrowly missing the fireplace. My quill snaps in half. Again.
"Wrong?" I ask sarcastically, "whatever the hell gave you that idea?"
The corner of his lip curls up into an amused smile, though his eyes don't change. "What happened now?"
Walking around the couch, I fall back onto it and eye him suspiciously. Draco almost sounds like he actually cares… there must be some sort of catch. As if reading my mind, he lets out a dry chuckle. "Don't trust me, Parkinson?"
"Should I?"
"Probably not," he says with a shrug, "but who else are you going to tell all your woes to? No-one else in this whole damn school would listen to you"
I glower at him. Is he trying to be comforting? Because I have to say that he does a pretty crap job at it. "I miss my old life," I tell him, leaning my head back and closing my eyes, "I want to go back to the way it was before I-"
My eyes snap open suddenly. What the hell am I doing? I can't believe I was about to pour out all my troubles to another person! Draco Malfoy, of all people! Since I was a little girl, I had learnt (the hard way), that you can never trust anyone. Tell them your weakness and they'll only use it against you. Being in the Slytherin house has made me see how important it is to always be on your guard. Trust only yourself.
Hearing no response, I glance over to find that Malfoy has gone back to his potion homework. Pulling my wand out form my robe, I point it in the direction that I had thrown my work. "Accio," I mutter, watching as my parchment and quill rise up and flow towards me. Pocketing my wand, I snatch them out of the air and mend my quill. Again.
"Haven't done your potion work?" Draco asks amused, without once looking up from his notes.
I don't answer him.
Pulling a slightly crumpled parchment from the back of his potion book, he tosses it towards me.
It hits me on the side of my head.
Promptly shooting daggers at him, I pick it up and unscroll it. "You're letting my copy your potion homework?" I ask, once again suspicious. There must be some ulterior motive.
Shutting him book, he gets up and stretches, looking immensely bored. "Can't have Pansy Parkinson, professor's pet, falling behind in class… now can we?" he replies, his voice mocking. I don't know whether to thank or strangle him. I choose to do neither.
"Something tells me that I'm not exactly Snape's favourite anymore," I grumble under my breath.
Draco rolls his eyes, "oh, and I wonder why that would be…?"
"Shut up. You're not exactly his favourite anymore, either," I point out, hurriedly copying out key notes form his essay on how Belladonna (also known as the 'deadly nightshade') can be used in various poisons and remedies. Unlike most guys I know, Draco has surprisingly neat handwriting. It has a lazy, yet immaculate, quality to it that matches his oh-so-charming personality.
"You never did tell me what made you in such a bad mood this morning," he says, leaning back against a table and waiting for me to copy out my work. I reluctantly tell him about Millicent refusing to give me her work, and Ronald running into me in the Great Hall.
"Why didn't you curse him there and then?" he wants to know, "I know you probably thought about it"
"And risk getting expelled from Hogwarts for dueling in the corridors?" I reply emotionlessly, my eyes still skimming through the parchment, "unlike you, my parents can't get my out of every little thing here at the school. In order to keep my parents happy, I have to act like the perfect little angel… and that means no cursing other students" - I pause briefly, thinking it over - "at least not when there are professors around to witness it"
Draco cocks an eyebrow but says nothing. I finish writing a conclusion before chucking it back to him. It would've hit him on the head, had he not caught it in time. Damn.
The Slytherin commonroom doors swing open, emitting a half dozen or so Slytherin students. Breakfast must be ending. The majority of these students ignore us, apart to casting us dirty glances every now and then. According to just about every Slytherin student, we're considered to be traitors.
One young Slytherin student, however, made the mistake of having ago at Draco while still within the prefect's striking distance. "Weren't at breakfast, Malfoy?" the young third year boy grins nastily, "why not? Your girlfriend was there…"
He then proceeds to make some kissing actions, before laughing viciously. Wow, a third year student? That has got to be a new low. Quick as lightning, Draco was on his feet, wand in one hand with his other clasped tightly around the front of the other student's robe. As the third year was fairly tiny, it didn't take much for Draco to lift him clear off his feet.
"Watch what the fuck you say," he growls, jaw tense, "you got that?"
The Slytherin students surrounding us all pause to watch. This is the Draco Malfoy that they all know and love. And fear. Unaware that every eye in the room is now trained on him, he waits for the boy to respond.
"Uh, ab-absolutely," the boy stutters, all previous courage having disappeared. He nods his head vigorously to show that he understands. Disgusted, Malfoy lets go of the others robe, dropping the third year to a crumpled heap on the ground.
Without a word or look back, he strides out of the commonroom angrily.
Highly amused, I hide a smile. It seems as though Draco isn't as calm and unaffected as I had originally thought. The moment the door is slammed behind him, the commonroom erupts in hushed voices. They know that something is up, but can't quite figure out what. First I snap at Millicent at breakfast, and then Draco at the poor boy.
It seems that only I am all that not surprised at what had just happened. After all, Draco and I decided that we would earn back the respect of the Slytherin House. And that is exactly what we are doing. The only question is... how long will it take?
We can't very well do much about Granger and Ron while we're still the laughing stock of the whole school, now can we? And I am not a very patient person.
Packing up my stuff, I start back up towards the girl's dormitories to prepare for my first lesson of the day.
Double Potions with Gryffindor.
Doesn't that just sound like a whole heap of fun? Not.
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«--.dangerous-fox.- - please review
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A huge thank-you to everyone that has reviewed! I have exams coming up in two weeks, so there won't be an update before then… but I'll try to get one up afterwards. Hope you're liking this story so far. I'm kinda winging it at the moment, but hopefully it'll turn out in the end. Comment and feedback welcome. It's been a while since I read the Harry Potter series, so sorry if some things aren't consistent. I also haven't watched the movies (and don't intend to), so if some things differ from how they're portrayed in the cinema, sorry for that too.
BEBii GiRL x3 » Ehlonna » Smiley Face3 » sugarbomb53086 » Slytherin-girl TF lover » Jeni-nite
Please continue to review to let me know whether you're still interested or not. ) Updates depend on the reviews. I get motivated and de-motivated (is that a word?) very easily… it's a flaw that I need to work on.
Just on another note, there is such a thing as belladonna (deadly nightshade), and I think it can be used in remedies and poisons? Can't remember...