My dear readers, don't be mad! At least I updated! Read, review and rant about my slow progress if you wish. Perfectly understandable. Please bear with me for any grammatical errors. Had no time. Enjoy! With love, Mak.

You know what annoyed Pansy Parkinson?

Crowds. Massive crowds, thronging with jovial individuals cheering and shouting congratulatory greetings everywhere she turned. It was more than annoying; it was unnerving. As if graduating from Hogwarts was really all that much of an accomplishment. Parents, she thought, blew it out of proportion really.

Alright, parents of OTHER houses, because well, Slytherin parents often saw it as merely one stepping stone in the brilliant careers they planned for and expected of their children. Throw in marriage contracts, wizarding world fame, prestigious positions in the Ministry, and first-born sons, and one would realize that the Hogwarts graduation was not really that much of a big deal. Premature celebration, thought Pansy.

She was pushing her way through said annoying crowd, searching vainly for her parents, who, she was sure, watched her take her diploma with the same interest they bestowed upon the marigolds of the garden when they sprouted: detached interest.

"Yay me," she mumbled, running into yet another Gryffindor family, whose faces were beaming with joy. Honestly, if she had eaten anything, she would have thrown it all up. For the tenth time that day she was sure of it. Where in Salazar where her parents! Could it be that they had already departed, waiting instead for her at home? They had decidedly informed her yesterday that they were to have dinner at a French restaurant, not in light of the inconsequential graduation, but rather to celebrate her acceptance of the journaling position offered to her at Witchly Weekly weeks ago.

Also to discuss, most assuredly, why she was dilly-dallying in accepting the Malfoy proposition. Why, no, Pansy had not yet informed her parents that she in fact rejected that proposition, and that she would instead be choosing someone else from the (rather short) list of suitors. After a year at the Witchly Weekly. It sounded all fine in her head but the reaction she was sure to receive from her mother sent chills down her spine.

But she strengthened her resolve. That was how it was going down and her mother could throw all the fine china at her if she wished. She had a job waiting for her, an inheritance from her paternal grandmother, and was finally out of school. To hades with Draco Malfoy, and with her mother's elaborate plans.

Her frustration was reaching its zenith as she honestly could not tell if she was any closer to finding her parents.

"Mother!" she yelled out, immediately realizing the stupidity of it as half the women in the crowd were mothers and turned to look at her, confused.

"Well, Pansy Parkinson," said a certain familiar someone behind her. She knew that voice and just who it belonged to. She turned to find Narcissa Malfoy, dressed impeccably regal, with that air of superiority enveloping her like a cloud, standing not two feet away from her.

Narcissa Malfoy. Merlin, she idolized this woman. Everything about her screamed wonderful breeding, from the way she dressed to the vocabulary she employed. She radiated pureblooded-ness. When Pansy was younger, she aspired to be just like her own mum (yes, laughable now). But the moment she first met the mother of her then-boyfriend Draco Malfoy, however, she set her standards even higher: BE Narcissa Malfoy.

Only now, Pansy felt awfully awkward around her. What does she know? What had Draco told her? She felt rather embarrassed to even be around the woman at the moment, certain that Draco had not minced words when describing what had recently transpired between the two.

"You are looking well," she said, with the slightest nod of her head, smile absent, but the makings of a small smirk forming on her lips. Wasn't she just divine?

"Er, yes." Pansy stammered, before remembering her own breeding. "Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."

She waved a small hand to dismiss the formal title. "I am relieved to run into you." She paused a bit, walking closer to Pansy and gently steering her away to a more secluded area.

"Oh, um, you are?" asked Pansy, nervous as the day she knew Draco was going to kiss her for the first time. What was with this family and its ability to make her feel so inferior? She expected a dressing down from the woman.

But it never came.

"I am rather sorry about it all," she offered.

Pansy stared at her. She had no idea where this conversation was leading to.

Narcissa cleared her throat and sniffed. "My Draco has informed me that he has rescinded his proposal to you, and that you are no longer his girlfriend as of last night."

Pansy's eyes grew as wide as saucers, she was certain. Just what in Merlin's beard did that git tell his mother? Obviously not that they had broken up WEEKS ago nor that she was the one who refused him and humiliated him in front of their entire house.

Realization dawned on her. She felt very, very ashamed right then and there that not only did Draco lie to his mother about Pansy's wretched actions but he had helped her save face with her own parents. There would be no explanation necessary from Pansy as to why she would not be marrying the Draco heir. Although she was slightly irked that the story made him out to be the desirable heartbreaker, and she the not-good-enough spurned lover. Still, such minute irritation was dwarfed by her enormous guilt.

She tried to look as sullen and downcast as she could, which really wasn't all that hard, because let's face it: that's exactly how she felt.

"It was not meant to be," she forced out, surprised that it was the actual truth she was admitting to the woman she glorified.

"Indeed? That is truly disappointing, as I had already accustomed myself to having you as a daughter-in-law. I shall have to resort to my second choice. You're familiar with the younger Greengrass, are you not?"

Pansy stood frozen, unsure as to how to respond. Astoria Greengrass?! That she could even come up as a second to Pansy in the eyes of Narcissa sent her ego down a notch. Ouch.

"Yes, her sister is one of my closer acquaintances. A fine choice," she said through gritted teeth. If you wanted him to marry a horse, she thought bitterly. Well, it's true! that elongated nose of hers very much made her out to be of equus origins.

Narcissa arched a perfect eyebrow. Yes, perfect! "She is young, so the marriage will not happen until she graduates."

Cue awkward silence...now.

"Of course," Pansy replied, not having anything else to say.

"You understand? It has always been my Draco's dream to play international quidditch and he cannot possibly pass up the opportunity. He wants a wife who does not mind staying and keeping home. And as I understand it, you've secured yourself an applaudable position in the journaling world as well?"

"Yes. Indeed I understand perfectly well. We would be too busy for each other. It is a fine decision and a good match for him," Pansy conceded. What else could she do? Although the fact that Narcissa Malfoy commended her for her future occupation had Pansy reeling.

"Oh," said the older woman, reaching into her robes and procuring a sealed letter, "would you mind delivering this to your own parents? Lucius and I send our apologies for Draco's decision." She handed it to Pansy who nodded and placed it within the confines of her own robes.

"Had we not placed you in such high esteem, dear, you understand that such a letter would not have been forthcoming?" quipped the ever-so-poised Narcissa. "We do not bother explaining ourselves or our actions to those well below us," she said with a small wink to Pansy.

Egads, Pansy desperately hoped that one day she would be just like this woman. She gave a nod before Narcissa Malfoy walked away.

Pansy found herself having very mixed feelings about everything she had just been informed of. She quickly felt for the letter in her robes and sighed when her hand made contact withe the lump in her inner pockets. The Malfoys were going to do all the explaining to her parents! How fortuitous.

And then her thoughts turned to the wedding of Draco to Astoria. That one hurt. Because it would be a lie to say that she could not stop thinking about that dejected look on his face when she had said he didn't deserve her. Or the coldness of his voice that last night when they all but destroyed any possibility of cordiality between them.

Actually, she was thinking of him often. Reminiscing about everything Pansy and Draco. Regret was turning out to be a familiar friend these days. Scratch that, it was her best friend. And that realization sparked a fire in her that she did not know was still alive.

"Salazar, damn it! My name is Pansy Parkinson. I am the Queen of Green and I won't let it end like this," she exclaimed to no one in particular, stomping her foot for emphasis. "Suck up your, pride, you idiot!" she reprimanded herself, as she immediately took up scouring the sea of people suffocating her, though the object of her search had drastically changed. She started sprinting.

After a few minutes of mad dashing, she spotted blonde hair and ran towards that direction. It was Narcissa Malfoy, who now had her husband in tow.

"Oh, Pansy, we were just leaving! Dear, look, it's Ms. Parkinson," she said to Lucius.

She attempted a small curtsy, before seeing that their son was nowhere near them. She was gasping for air, and she knew she looked quite foolish at the present moment.

"Your son...Where is...Draco...?" she asked, in between gulps of sweet, sweet air. How out of shape had she become exactly? She doubled over in an effort to catch her breath. She was the exact opposite of composed at the moment, she very well knew.

Lucius gave his wife an inquisitive look, expecting her to explain, but she did not notice.

"Oh, he's just gone off right now with some fellows. They're headed for some drinks somewhere. What is the name of the place again? Broomsticks or other?" She turned to her husband for help. But it wasn't necessary as Pansy had taken off again.

How in Merlin's beard was she ever able to run away from Draco? Her knees felt as if they were about to give out any second. Focus, she thought.

When she had reached the outer edges of the large crowd, she paused, looking around. She spotted the small group, making their way towards the castle exit, leaving Hogswart grounds and into the town below.

"Stupid prat, of course he has to be surrounded by numerous imbeciles," she cursed, once again picking up speed. Fine it wasn't numerous, but included all those blokes she supposed were his 'friends': Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, hell even Zabini was there! Damn, damn, damn!

Pansy closed the distance. "Draco, you insufferable prick!" It wasn't really necessary to add the additional title, seeing as she could hardly breathe as it was. But, well, old habits and all that.

He stopped and turned at the insult, only to see Pansy barreling down and coming to a halt a few feet from him. His face became a sneer, and she was sure he was about to spew forth some horrible remarks had she not started talking first. Which was brave of her she thought, namely because she wasn't expecting to say all she thought to say in front of a bloody audience. An all-male audience to boot. Damn, damn, damn her luck.

"Look here Malfoy, I..." she trailed. Where did her courage go, again? Oh, right, it fled along with whatever pride she had left.

He crossed his arms, waiting. "You what?" His face looked as if he was about to hex her on the spot. Well, everyone else was looking at her, too.

She balled her hands into fists and huffed. "I bloody love you, you stupid git!" There that wasn't so bad. I am Pansy Parkinson, and I am the Queen of Awkward Situations. And I constantly disappoint my mother.

His face betrayed his shock. Silence, feet shuffling and averted eyes followed. Well, there. She said it and she felt her cheeks grow warm. Even if she was going to regret everything sometime down the line, maybe when she was Mrs. something or other, at least she could say that in the end, she said IT. Satisfied with that knowledge and not particularly wanting to wait around for his (most assuredly scathing response), she turned heel and started walking away.

It felt like mere seconds had passed before she heard footsteps following her. Running footsteps. So she wasn't at all surprised that he had grabbed her by the elbow and spun her around. He just loved that move, didn't he? She was at least thankful his minions did not follow him, but stood aloofly in the same previous spot.

"Have you gone mental, woman?" he accused. His eyes flashed. She wasn't sure if he was angry or confused. Maybe both. And no, not mental. Brave, maybe. Stupid, definitely.

She pulled her arm from his grip. "No."

He glared at her. "What are you on about? You're going to tell me you love me and then walk away? You are completely mad!"

"I wanted to say it, so I did! You don't control me." Even she cringed at that lame retort.

"You make a fool out of me and then expect me to do what exactly? Come groveling back to you after you make that stupid confession?" Alright he was mad.

"No! It's not like that," she protested.

"Then why don't you enlighten me because I sure as Salazar don't know what's going on in that empty head of yours."

"Okay I just, I hated you. You left ME! Do you understand that? And not only did you leave me, but you found someone else. How could I not want revenge? Don't say that you wouldn't have done the same thing! But it backfired on me. I wanted to hurt you, but it hurt me too," she said. She couldn't go on, because she knew there would be tears and she didn't think she could make it.

"Everything I had said to you was genuine," he said in a cold, unfeeling voice.

"I know."

"I regretted leaving you. I made that confession!" He had raised his voice. She let him.

"I know."

"We could have started over, put it all behind us. Chalk it all up to being young and naive!"

She flinched at the immaturity of it all. "Yes, we could have."

"But you wouldn't let it be. Now, whatever was left between us is gone. Anything I had felt for you is gone."

"Yeah, I know. But, I had to tell you that I do love you. And really, I'm sorry. My pride wouldn't let me settle on anything less."

"I hope your pride keeps you warm at night," he bit out. "This little confession of yours doesn't change anything between us. I will be marrying Astoria in two years."

Ouch. That one really stung. She deserved it, and she understood. She didn't expect forgiveness. She was just grateful for the fact that he had even talked to her, let alone hear her out. It was more than she deserved.

"And believe me when I sincerely wish you the best," she offered.

"I can't say the same to you."

Yeah, that was definitely her cue to go. So she did. What did she expect, really? That they would make amends and live happily ever after right then and there? Of course not. She had hoped that he would accept her apology, and maybe maintain some semblance of a friendship. But it was not to be, and that was alright with her. So long as he knew that in the end, she did love him.