This is a statement saying that I, in no way own any of J.K. Rowlings' characters, plots, or associated works. This is a story that was written for pleasure, and I have no intention of making any money with it.
Pansy had grown up the lone daughter of Setor and Arial Parkinson, one of four siblings, and the youngest. A disappointment to her parents, who had expected another strong willed son, she was ignored in favor of her older brothers, until they took all four children to the Malfoys' for dinner.
Pansy was seven, and she was prettily dressed in a long black dress that fell straight to her ankles. A white sash circled around her middle, stretching from her sternum to her pelvis, tying invisibly. Little black patent leather Mary-Janes were on her feet, over the cream pantyhose that the house elves had helped her dress in. a white bow cut off the end of her thick black braid, which fell to her waist.
And there she met Draco, and was immediately enamored of his fair hair and grey eyes. Both parents saw the way the seven year-old was in love with the eight year old, and for the first time, Setor had a use for Pansy. A marriage alliance was formed, between the two houses, both remnants of the former Eight Houses, who had once ruled England.
Draco was eleven, and Pansy ten when they entered Hogwarts, their parents having bargained with the Headmaster to send them to school at the same time, and the two were never close. Pansy grew away from the beliefs her parents tried to drill into her, opting to be a cruel tormentor to hide her true fears. The others in Slytherin House began to like her, for she would help any who would ask for help.
It was in her fourth year that Draco made any moves on his betrothed, inviting her to the Yule Ball, and even presenting her with robes to wear. Upon learning of this, Millicent, Pansy's closest friend was heard to remark; 'Pansy, he'll control you!' and yet Pansy dressed in the awful pink robes, and carefully hid her feelings behind a mask of contempt and desperation.
During fifth year, the two 'went walking,' a phrase used to describe the token courtship that both were told to perform, to at least give the semblance of normalcy to their relationship, and Pansy loved that Draco would give her rules, give her affection, something her parents had always withheld, a large difference from the closeted loving family of the Malfoys.
"What are they doing?" Hermione Granger was heard to ask of her fellow Gryffindor prefect; Ronald Weasley, after seeing the two walking around Hogsmeade practically attached at the hip. "They are courting, 'Mione. Actually, they're 'going walking,' it's a custom of the Eight Families that allows two betrothed to get to know each other before the wedding."
The day after Lucius Malfoy was caught in the Ministry of Magic Draco and Pansy wedded, the marriage officiated over by a middle-ranking Ministry worker. The bride was clothed in a set of hideous pink dress robes two sizes too big, recognizable as the set she wore to the Yule ball the year before. The groom was dressed in his school robes. He was sixteen, and she fifteen. Their witnesses were Millicent Bulstrode and Severus Snape for Pansy, and Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe for Draco. Narcissa Malfoy was absent, having gone mad at the arrest of her husband, and been hospitalized at Saint Mungo's. Setor and Arial Parkinson had been arrested earlier that morning.
The war went into full blow following the arrests. The Order of the Phoenix became visible, recruiting. The Ministry awoke, though still ineffective in most ways, the Wizengamot sent suspected Death Eaters to Azkaban daily.
Draco went into motion immediately, and upon opening the Malfoy books, he grimaced. For all the large donations and lavish purchases his father had made, the Malfoys' were dangerously low on funding. The same was true of the Parkinsons, Pansy's three older brothers dieing in July in a Death Eater raid on Diagon, shot down as they escaped by Aurors. All the Parkinson estates went into the Malfoy trust.
They closed up the majority of their homes, and moved to a recently inherited house in London. Narcissa's cousin, Sirius had owned it before his disappearance into the Veil, and it went to Draco as the last sane, still in the line of inheritance wizard.
Pansy cleaned the house from roof to basement, scrubbing it by hand. They had had to dismiss all but the staff necessary to keep their estates running, and so there were no House Elves available to help Pansy, though Kreacher had volunteered, Pansy had beheaded the creature her self, by hand. Once a traitor, always a traitor. She could not trust it, it having betrayed its rightful owner.
It was Pansy who came up with the idea of renting out their properties, her reasoning being that the tenants could pay both rent, and the cost to feed and house the House Elves. Going to Draco, he agreed, but told her that she would have to do the renting. He hugged her, before telling her that he did not want her to be completely dependant on him, like Narcissa had been on Lucius. He also wanted her to open her own account at Gringotts, in her own name.
Pansy put an ad in the Quibbler about the real estate for rent. She did not want tenants so easily manipulated as the readers of the Daily Prophet.
It was Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks who answered her ad, coming to meet her for a business tea at a small coffee shop in Diagon Alley. After both sides had ordered, Tonks ordering coffee, Shacklebolt tea, and Pansy hot chocolate, they settled down to the business.
"I am renting out various properties at a price of no less than fifty Galleons a month. These are the properties to choose from." Pansy slipped a sheaf of parchments over the table, in which a ostentatious townhouse in London, a villa in the south of France, a chateau in the Swiss Alps, and a fort in the Scottish Highlands figured prominently, along with many other smaller abodes. "As you can guess, the majority are either Malfoy or Parkinson Family holdings, entailed to the name, that we cannot sell or give away."
Tonks flipped through the pages, showing Kingsley several, before pulling out three. Her finger ran down the listings, she smiled, and pulled out a bag that clinked heavily.
"The group I work for is willing to pay no more than twenty-five Galleons a month, for each of these three holdings. I assume that these come with staff?"
"Three House-Elves work each holding, except for there is a fourth at the Pensword Castle, because of its larger size. You would be expected to pay for feeding and housing of the house elves, and no injuring of the House Elves is allowed. I will check every month, and they will tell me if any has occurred." Pansy smiled predatorily across the table at Tonks, before sipping her hot chocolate. Tonks picked up her cup of coffee and drank, considering.
"Twenty five a month for each of the town houses and fifty a month for the castle."
"Thirty a month for the townhouses, and seventy-five for the castle." Kingsley was taken aback by the hard bargaining between the two women.
"Deal!" Tonks and Pansy shook on it, and Pansy pulled out a small pad of paper, noting down the amounts, the names of the abodes, and then looked up.
"What group do you represent?" Her eyes glinted sharply. "No, I invoke Finacin's Peace, and write it on my receipts."
"Here," Tonks pushed the bag of Galleons across the table. "It is 135 Galleons, one month of rent." Pansy stowed the bag inside her robes, before taking out paperwork, and filling it out, before pushing it across the table for Tonks to sign.
"I'll have it notarized at Gringotts this afternoon, and have them send copies to the tax wizards."
"Why can't you just send the papers over?" Kingsley asked. Harry and his friends had already come of age!
"I do not turn sixteen until next May, Auror Shacklebolt."
"Name?" The Gringotts goblin was short, round, and knobby, its voice high pitched, and it spoke through pointy teeth. Lots of pointy teeth.
"Pansy Arial Malfoy."
"Title?" it said, its voice creaky and grating.
"Lady Malfoy, and Lady Parkinson."
"Amount to be deposited?"
"135 Galleons."
"Anything else?"
"Yes. Could you send a copy of this agreement to the Tax Office at the Minsitry?"
"Of course, ma'am." He waved a hand over the outstretched agreement, causing it to double, and one of the two to disappear. Then he slid a key over the counter, and grasped the sack of gold. "Here's your key. DON'T lose it. your account is number 13854, and we will deposit this for you, Lady Malfoy."
"Thank you Pogres, I appreciate your assisting me."
When Pansy went back to Hogwarts, Draco went to Durmstrang to attend the opening ceremonies. As the Lord Malfoy, he had to attend, as his father had contributed large amounts to the prominent Dark Arts school. It also was a good opening for him to speak with the school's Headmaster, to inform him that the Malfoy Family in its current state could not contribute any money and remain fiscally solvent. That was one reason.
The other reason was of more dangerous stuff. Draco had taken the Mark over the summer, swearing to avenge the humiliation of the Malfoys. Pansy had refused outright to join, stating the well known, but unspoken fact that no Lady of the Eight Houses would swear allegiance to any other than her family. To do so was to break every principle ingrained in them from birth. Alone out of the Eight Houses, only Bellatrix Lestrange had ever done such a thing, and all of the Ladies of the Houses regarded her as either persona non grata, or as insane. Andromeda Tonks was held in higher respect than the mad Black, as Bellatrix was referred to. Some of the more powerful women spoke of her as a blood traitor.
Pansy sat in the Prefects' Car, in one of the twenty-six seats. Six seats for each house, two of those for each year. The Head Girl and Boy had a pair of seats together. Pansy sat alone in the Slytherin seats. Only she and Draco were coming back of the Slytherin Prefects. The house had been cut in half, their parents pulling them out and sending them elsewhere.
"Hello Parkinson." Hermione said. The two had formed a slight alliance, both in favor of keeping Ron and Draco from fighting. "How was your summer?" Hermione asked this question for she didn't think that there would be much of an answer.
"It's Malfoy, Granger. Draco and I married after his father and my parents were imprisoned."
"Good riddance of bad rubbish!" Ron cut in, rude to almost the point of being called out.
"Weasley, your mother may not have been raised by Petrol Parkinson, but she is a blood-Parkinson. If Draco were here, he would have called you out as a blood-traitor" Weasley was angry, but calmed down at Ginny's quick shake of her head.
"Where is Malfoy?" Granger asked, her interest peaked.
"Draco is attending the opening ceremonies at Durmstrang, Granger, as is the custom of Lord Malfoy attending."
"Lady Malfoy?" Professor Snape had given his yearly speech to the first years, and now he wished to speak with another. "May I speak with you?" A nod from Pansy, and they walked over into an alcove. "Where is Draco?"
"He is at Durmstrang, extending our sympathies, good wishes, and condolences that we can no longer help fund them."
"Draco is against the Dark Arts?" Professor Snape could not hide the surprise he felt, and was slightly mollified by Pansy's sarcastic laugh.
"Blessed Lady, no! Lucius was a horrible book keeper, and too proud to have it sent out. Draco and I have had to cut down our spending, and we have moved into Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Draco has decided not to fund anything, period, for 'charitable' reasons. We need to have enough to keep Narcissa in St. Mungo's."
"Another question, if you don't mind." Severus' voice was enquiring, and Pansy nodded. "Why are you wearing that awful gown? I thought you refused to wear white on principle!" Pansy blushed slightly, then pulled the empire-waist gown tight over her stomach. a hard bulge was obvious, rounded.
"I am three months pregnant, Professor. This is the only gown of Narcissa's from her pregnancy with Draco that fits me, and I haven't had time to go to Witches' Mum yet. Besides, Draco hasn't found out yet. He was busy all summer with.." Pansy trailed off from a semi-indignant rant, realizing what she was saying.
"Busy with who?" Severus asked his voice sharp.
"The Dark Lord, who else!" Severus was pleased to note the annoyance in Pansy's voice. "Draco had the nerve to ask me to join!" Severus blinked in surprise.
"You refused?" He was still reeling from shock. Pansy Parkinson, notorious Pureblood Elitist refusing the Mark?
"Of course!" Her voice was sarcastic and cutting. "Unlike that Bellatrix Lestrange, I am no blood-traitor. As the only daughter of the Eight Families left alive and sane, I am the obvious heir to the Martriarchy. We bow to none, Professor. Did not your mother ever mention that to you! No woman of the Eight Families bows to anyone other than her family."
"Draco, I'm pregnant." They had waltzed around the Great Hall twice during the Yule ball, the rest of the time, Draco had spent chasing girls. She had manipulated it so that he met her outside, so she could tell him the news.
"How long, Pansy?" Draco's voice was harsh, a bit choked.
"It is now Halloween, and you haven't touched me since our wedding night, Draco! How long do you think its been?!" Draco did some quick calculations, and backhanded Pansy, sending her tumbling to the floor.
"Five months pregnant, you bitch,, and you didn't see fit to tell me!" Draco's voice took on aspects of his father's and its cruelty sent Pansy to tears, alone in the Rose maze with her husband.
"You've been off gallivanting with those Death Eaters, Draco! How could I tell you?!?" Draco knelt down, his anger gone, and he pulled Pansy tight to him, hugging her.
"Sorry, Pansy. I did not mean to hurt you." Pansy melted, his words having their desired effect. Draco knew that the affection he showed his bride was what kept her with him.
"No, Draco. I should be sorry. I should have told you."
"When should we announce your pregnancy?"
"Why not tonight?"
Pansy was laying in a bed in the Hospital Wing, her legs split as far as they could be pushed apart, her fists clenched so tightly that Pomfrey had already set out bandages for her palms. Half of her hair had spilled out of her braid, and it was plastered to her face and neck with sweat. The hospital gown had been soaked with sweat and replaced twice.
It was the fourteenth of February, and Pansy had been in the Hospital Wing since the twelfth, when Millicent Bulstrode had found her writhing on the floor, a puddle of water around her. forty-eight hours of labor with the Headmaster, Professor Snape, Millie, Professor McGonagall, and Granger helping at various points, helping coach her through the labor.
Draco was nowhere to be found. They had searched the school from top to bottom, and he was nowhere to be found. Many suspected that he was visiting a mistress, and simply ignoring the owls being sent after him. None had the heart to tell Pansy, whose silent weeping had endeared her to all but the Nurse, who thought that the screams the fifteen year old was withholding were helpful.
It was five in the morning on the fifteenth of February that the last of the Malfoy triplets were born. Pansy was propped up in bed, only the iron will of the Eight Families keeping her awake, as she held the triplets. All three were male, all three with the Malfoy hair and eyes, her impression upon their genes unshown. Looking down at their innocent faces, Pansy realized that she would have to name them, Draco still being AWOL. Without a name, they were vulnerable. Looking up at the Nurse, she spoke in a voice harsh with tears.
"Lucian Rasputin Malfoy for the eldest. Piotr Lucius Malfoy Parkinson for the second born, and place in the slot of 'title,' Lord Parkinson. The youngest will be Regulan Setar Malfoy." She paused, her tired mind moving like a turtle's. "And file the papers swiftly, please." Her voice was desperate, but she bent down and kissed her triplets each on the head before drifting off to Morpheus' arms.
"Severus, could I have a word?" Poppy rarely talked to the Potions' Master, detesting him for causing so many of his students to be sent to her infirmary. He nodded, and they went into her office, where Poppy spelled the forms to the Ministry. "I'm worried about Pansy."
"Why?"
"She stopped bleeding about half an hour after she gave birth, but she lost a lot of blood. That is one thing."
"What is the second?" Despite what people thought, Poppy had not been a Hufflepuff or Gryffindor in school. She had been a Slytherin, and a cunning one at that. Severus trusted her, but he knew her.
"She had bruises, well hidden under a glamour that stretched all over her back. In the shape of a fist."
"Why would she stay with him? No, I know the answer." And they both did. Pansy equated any affection or physical contact (at times) with love.
The triplets were ten. Pansy twenty-five. They lived with Draco at the Headquarters of Lord Voldemort's forces. The past ten years had not been fun for anyone, by anyone's standards. Pansy had raised three boys, a mother to them at all times. However, they grew up bigoted, following their father's example, and had been taught how to use a wand at an early age.
There had been three more pregnancies since then, all ended by Draco's fists, and Pansy now walked with a limp, thanks to an ill set broken leg. She had lost a good chunk of her ear to Draco's rage after he had heard that her best friend had sided with the order.
Few who met her now called her beautiful, the bruises that dulled her beauty also warned away admirers. The witches and wizards who had not escaped when their Order cronies did called her the Angel of Death, a bruised woman who directed a swift 'Avada Kedavra' their way. Those who knew what she did often told her husband, and he punished her, but Severus Snape told the Order.
"Molly, Albus, Harry, it is obvious to me that if we decide to approach any of those holed up in Devil's Alley, it is Pansy Malfoy who you should contact. They call her the Angel of Death, as she kills the people who cannot Apparate out with the Order. She uses the killing curse to keep them from torture."
"Who is she?" Molly asked, her voice questioning. Albus answered.
"She is the only surviving Matriarch of the Eight Families, having been ordained five years ago. The wife and mother to Draco Malfoy and their children. But she was born Pansy Parkinson. She and Draco married when she was fifteen, and she bore the triplets here at Hogwarts. All of the Slytherins who are on our side adore her. Milli was her best friend."
Draco and the triplets were killed in the Final Battle, fighting at the side of Voldemort. The children were but thirteen. Draco was twenty nine. Pansy, twenty-eight. Albus Dumbledore was killed, as was Severus Snape, Albus at Voldemort's hand, and Severus' at Draco's, who was exacting the revenge written for a betrayer. They found the remains of Severus' body plastered on the walls of the Ministry. Albus' body was dumped on the Apparation Barrier into Hogwarts.
Pansy was married to Harry Potter, dressed in the tatters of what had once been a white gown. It was now grey with age and abuse, and there were streaks of brown on her hemline, dried blood, as it was also caked around her feet. He was in his war robes, wand in his holster. Pansy's wand had been snapped by Draco two days before, and her black hair straggled past her waist.
They were married in the wreckage of Devil's Alley, and Pansy's dead children were laying on the floor not ten feet away. The marriage was officiated over by a Auror. The newspaper called it the Wedding of Peace, the last Matriarch of the Eight Houses wedding the Saviour of the Wizarding World. It was a visible treaty, a tangible one.
No one else in the Eight Houses had survived the war, or the Illustrious War, as it went down in the history books. Narcissa Malfoy escaped Saint Mungo's security ward and had ended her life on the pavement below a thirtieth floor window. Draco had ordered and lead a retaliatory raid on Saint Mungo's. One thousand wizards and witches were tortured and killed, then the building was set into an inferno. Lucius Malfoy was given the Kiss. The Lestranges were murdered in their sleep, their tongues cut out. The Zabinis were drawn and quartered, the horses used dragged their limbs for miles. The Crabbes and the Goyles went down in battle.
It was years before Pansy began to trust Harry, and she was thirty five when they had a son.
Looking out of the window into their back yard, Pansy smiled. They may call her four sons and three daughters the Potter Children, but she called them her own. The second son would receive the title of Lord Parkinson upon his twenty-first birthday, and the eldest daughter would follow her mother in becoming the Matriarch, which Pansy had worked hard to revive as an official position. She received a stipend from the Ministry now, mainly for her position of mothering all of the orphaned children. They reminded her, the orphans did, of her lost children, lost to hatred.
They had opened an orphanage, and above the door it was written; "Courage is not the absence of fear, it is the acknowledgement that the fear exists, and despite that seeing light within the darkness."
Harry hugged his slight wife, pressing his lips into her hair. He loved his small flower, his wife, with all his heart.
"Happy Christmas, Pansy." She reached down, placing her hand over his large one that was on her pelvis, and moved it slightly onto her stomach. smiled.
"I'm pregnant, love."
"You're WHAT!?!" Pansy smiled. Seven children, and he still reacted with disbelief every time that she told him that she was pregnant. She loved him, she loved her children, all hundreds of the ones she called her own.
"Happy Christmas, Harry."
The End