we've changed and we're better this way
Angelina had just stepped into one of the Ministry of Magic lifts when she heard a commanding voice call, "Wait for me!"
She tucked her umbrella under her arm and sighed. Between Freddy being fussy and the torrential downpour outside, she was already late for work, but she supposed it wouldn't kill her to show a little kindness to someone else.
A well-dressed figure came into view. Angelina tightened her grip on her umbrella and muttered a curse under her breath when she realized who she had held the lift for.
It was Pansy Parkinson.
"Oh, for the love of Merlin," Angelina muttered to herself. "Of all the people I could have run into today..."
She still hadn't forgiven the other woman for the awful comments she had made about her hair back when they were at Hogwarts together. Yes, Pansy had been young, but that didn't excuse the hurtful comparisons she had taken such delight in. She had made Angelina feel as though her hairstyle was repulsive, and it had taken her longer than she cared to admit to move past that insecurity.
Angelina stared straight ahead as Pansy strode into the lift. She was keenly aware that, by some stroke of bad luck, they were the only two people on it.
Though Angelina wasn't looking directly at Pansy, she could still make out what she was wearing out of the corner of her eye. The former Slytherin was dressed in an expensive-looking pink dress, and she carried a large dragon hide handbag on her arm. She looked out of place in the lift—Angelina privately thought that she would fit in better at a glamorous fashion show. Pansy pressed the button for her destination, then moved to stand next to Angelina.
"Good morning," the dark-haired woman said stiffly. Her voice was just as annoying as Angelina remembered it being.
Angelina fiddled with her umbrella for a moment, toying with the idea of not responding. "Good morning," she said at last, having decided that she could only feign interest in her umbrella for so long.
She held her breath as the lift finally shuddered to life. An awkward minute or two and this would all be over.
Suddenly, there was a loud scraping noise and the lift ground to a halt. Angelina stepped forward and pressed the button for Level 7 again, swearing loudly when nothing happened.
Pansy looked askance at her. "In a hurry, Johnson?"
"Get fucked, Parkinson," Angelina retorted, massaging her temple. This was what happened when the Ministry was too lazy to inspect its lifts. "You are the absolute last person I want to deal with right now."
"Do you really think I want to be stuck with you either?" Pansy snapped. Her gaze flitted over Angelina's hair and robes, lingering on the embroidered Ministry of Magic logo on the chest. "You work here now?"
There was a certain amount of surprise in the dark-haired woman's voice, and Angelina bristled instantly. "Yes," she huffed. "I'm in the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
"Figures," Pansy said silkily. "You always were a bit of a Quidditch slag, weren't you?"
Angelina's free hand curled into a fist at her side. Pansy had a special talent for winding her up, but she wasn't going to give in to the taunts so easily. She needed to get out of this confined space sooner rather than later, though, or she was going to hex Pansy into next week without a smidge of regret.
Taking a deep breath, she unclenched her fist and pulled out her wand.
"What are you doing?" Pansy demanded.
"Relax, Parkinson, I'm not going to hex you, if that's what you're worried about." She shrank her umbrella and tucked it into the pocket of her robes, then brandished her wand at the lift door. "Alohomora!"
The doors didn't open. They didn't even budge.
"I'm not sure that the doors are locked, exactly," Pansy pointed out.
"Do you have a better idea, then?" Angelina asked, trying to hide her irritability with little success. "Because if so, I'd love to hear it." She crossed her arms and waited for a snarky reply. When none came, she looked over to find Pansy chewing on her lip. "What's gotten into you?"
"Nothing," Pansy said immediately, ceasing her lip-biting. She drew her own wand and tapped the doors. Blue sparks flew into the air, but nothing happened. "Damn it! Help! The lift has stopped moving and we're stuck between floors!"
Angelina wished she had made it to work at a time when the Atrium was more crowded. No one was likely to hear any calls for help at this time, and she told Pansy as much before sliding down the side of the lift and onto the floor. Seeing the dark-haired woman's incredulous look, she said, "I reckon we could be here a while, so you might as well make yourself comfortable. The Ministry doesn't exactly keep up with day-to-day operations very well."
Pansy sniffed. "I'm not sitting on the floor in this dress. It's a Tracey Davis."
Angelina wasn't much for fashion, but even she had heard of the designer label. It was named for one of Pansy's Slytherin classmates, and it was highly sought after by the Wizarding elite. Alicia was forever going on about it.
"I suppose I can't blame you," Angelina said, eying Pansy's dress more closely. "It's...pretty."
Pansy raised a single brow. "Was that a compliment, Johnson?"
"I'm as shocked as you are, believe me," Angelina said dryly.
The two women sat—and stood, in Pansy's case—in silence for a while. Angelina mostly kept her eyes fixed on the floor, but every so often, she would glance up at Pansy and find the former Slytherin staring right at her.
"I'm sorry," Pansy said suddenly. Angelina frowned, but said nothing, allowing the dark-haired woman to elaborate. "I shouldn't have made fun of your hair when we were in school."
"Save your apology, Parkinson," Angelina said, shaking her head. "You and I both know you don't mean it."
"No, I'm serious," Pansy insisted. "I feel terrible."
Angelina let out a harsh laugh. "No, you don't. If you were, you wouldn't have waited until we were trapped in a lift to say something. Admit it, me being here is a reminder of just how much you haven't changed. You may wear fancy clothes now, but you'll never escape the sad, manipulative little girl you used to be. I regret complimenting your dress. You don't deserve it."
Pansy blinked furiously, and Angelina realized that she was about on the verge of tears. "I don't expect you to forgive me," she said quietly. "But I can assure you, I am not that little girl anymore. I made some awful choices in my past, yes, but I am trying to move past them."
"You shouldn't get to move past them!" Angelina exploded. "You don't get it, do you? Every time you insulted my hair, I hated myself a little more. How many times did you watch me fight back tears after you called my braids 'ugly'? It always baffled me how you could knowingly make someone feel so low. Why? Why would you do something like that?"
"Because I was miserable!" Pansy said hotly. Tears had begun coursing down her face, but she didn't seem to notice. "Merlin, Johnson, I'm still miserable. You're right. I can wear expensive clothing but I have to live with my horrible choices every day."
Angelina summoned a handkerchief and handed it to the younger woman, who carefully blotted the tears from her face. She still looked so put together, despite her tearful outburst. Angelina almost envied her for it.
"Well," she said, leaning back against the smooth, shiny lift wall, "I'm not saying I forgive you or anything, but I sort of understand where you're coming from now."
"I appreciate you hearing me out." Pansy kicked a silver heel against the floor. "Look, isn't there someone you can get a message to, tell them that we're trapped in here?"
"No," Angelina replied. "But someone will have to notice that the lift isn't working eventually, or maybe it'll just start working again on its own."
"Oh." Pansy looked around, as if hoping she might find the key to their escape by doing so. Apparently, she didn't find anything, for she ran a hand through her short, dark hair while making a frustrated noise.
"You know," Angelina said, keeping her voice light, "you never said what brought you to the Ministry today, Parkinson."
The abrupt change of subject seemed to help disappate the tension. Pansy's lips quirked upwards slightly, and she gave a quiet snort. "I'm here to see Theo Nott."
"Theo Nott?" Angelina repeated. She glanced at Pansy's hand and noticed, for the first time, a wedding ring. "He's an Author, isn't he?" Harry had mentioned his name a couple of times in passing, she thought.
Pansy nodded. "He and Draco are partners. I just came to bring him some food. He was up late working on a case, and forgot his lunch this morning when he left. He's been looking terribly thin lately, so I thought I ought to bring him something." She tapped her handbag, and Angelina had a sudden vision of a huge meal shrunk down and crammed into it.
"That's sweet of you," Angelina said, and she meant it. Maybe Pansy really was trying to be a better person. The Pansy she had known at Hogwarts wouldn't have looked out for someone else like that—not without expecting something in return, anyway. This Pansy just seemed concerned with making sure that Theo ate. Angelina still wasn't interested in forgiving her, but she felt as though her school-girl grudge was no longer tenable.
Pansy opened her mouth to respond, but just then, there was a colossal screech of metal. Angelina jumped to her feet right as the lift began to move downwards again.
"Yes!" Pansy cheered.
After a moment, Angelina joined in with a whoop. The two women smiled at each other, but the moment was broken when the lift stopped at Level 7. Angelina was about to step out when a dainty hand grabbed her sleeve.
"Thanks for being so honest with me today, Johnson," Pansy said. "I think I needed to hear that."
Angelina gave her a brief nod as she exited the lift. "You're welcome, Parkinson. For what it's worth, you have changed, at least a little."
"I'll take it," Pansy chuckled. "Have a nice day."
"Thanks, you too." Angelina watched as the doors closed on the dark-haired woman, then turned and started off for her office. Her boss was going to kill her for being over an hour late, but at least she had an interesting story to tell George over dinner that night.
WC: 1,802