The ride to King's Cross Station was nothing if not awkward.

Ron had refused to sit in a separate compartment with Pansy so she was sitting in their compartment with them. Fred and George had also joined them, they'd seemed to have taken the oddest liking to Pansy. But even their jokes couldn't make her laugh. She'd receded back into her shell and spent most of the journey staring out of the window.

Hermione had dragged Malfoy into the compartment too, and after a warning to them all to be civil to him, Harry was attempting to make small talk with Draco, who looked uncomfortable and out of place. Fred and George ignored Draco except from giving him the occasional murderous glare and Draco and Pansy were both ignoring each other. Ron spent most of his time ignoring Pansy and talking to Hermione as she updated him on the Malfoy situation.

"So you're actually friends now? And you kissed? " Ron looked more than slightly grossed out.

"Yeah but I guarantee it won't happen again. Not after how he reacted after we kissed."

"If you're so sure he doesn't want to touch you because you're a mudblood then why even bother trying to be friends with him? "

Hermione was taken aback by that, and actually had to think for a minute. Ron usually saw straight through to the heart of the matter.

" I don't...know. I don't think he's a bad person really. He has his flaws. I think I'm trying to fix him. "

Ron snorted at that. "You know what they say about fixing a broken wand. You'll only break your own. "

The train ride was beyond awkward for Draco- it was torturous. He wasn't having such a bad time debating with Harry about quidditch, he was actually enjoying the argument. But he could feel Hermione sitting on the other side of him, her hand, inches from his. The urge to reach out and take it was almost overwhelming. But a pit of worry was building in his stomach. He knew he shouldn't be sitting in the same compartment as Gryffindors, debating quidditch with the Boy Who Lived. And as the debate got louder, so did the voice in his head.

My father will hear about this my father will hear about this my father will hear about this.

He finally got up. "Excuse me," he said, shoving his way out of the compartment. "I'm sorry, I can't stay here. I'll see you later." His eyes were fixed only on Hermione.

Instead of going to another compartment he headed for the bathroom. Locking the door and clutching the sink he retched, vomiting out the little breakfast he'd had.

The line still rang through his head as he closed his eyes and thought about Hermione's brown eyes. My father will hear about this.

Ron wasn't sure what he expected to be waiting for them at King's Cross Station. A carriage maybe. Or maybe an entourage from the ministry. He'd even wondered whether Minister of Magic himself would show up, he knew Pansy's family had friends in high places.

What he was not expecting however, was nobody to be waiting for them at all. He was so used to warm welcomes home from his mother that he hadn't realized that some people weren't as lucky.

He felt a twinge of pity for her before quelling it with the memory of what she'd done at the party.

"No welcome? " he asked Pansy, too surprised to remember he wasn't talking to her.

"No, we're on our own. The car will take us home." she said shortly.

She led the way to a sleek black Sedan, while Ron thought of the old Ford Angelica his family used to own and he shrunk a little in his seat.

There was no one to welcome them at her house either. Ron glanced around, taking in the inside of the huge house. The Parkinson's were obviously very proud of them being sorted into Slytherin- the house was filled with jade ornaments. He looked into the next room, careful not to stray too far from Pansy.

A hanging chandelier was clearly the centre of attention with cream coloured sofas arranged in a square around it. Tapestries hung from the walls and a picture of a coldly smiling woman hung above the fireplace.

"Letitia Parkinson" Pansy said quietly, seeing him looking at the painting, "the discovered the properties of the meer flower and was awarded an Order of Merlin, third class. My family is quite proud of her. Lets go."

She began to tug her suitcase up the grand staircase.

"Don't you have a house elf?" Ron blurted, his surprise overwhelming his desire to avoid speaking to her.

" We do. But I prefer to do my own work."

Ron was wondering how many more surprises lay in store for him when she pushed open the door to her room. It was decorated a bright yellow, in stark contrast to the rest of the house.

"It's my favorite colour" she explained when he didn't say anything. "My mother can't come in here, this used to be Aunt Renetta's room and she bewitched it to keep her out after they'd had one of their fights." She looked at Ron, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she continued. " She's dead now, killed in the uprising. It's actually sad, I liked her. She was timid, kind...she shouldn't have been fighting at all."

She stood there awkwardly, the silence hung heavily between them. Ron looked around and sat down on the floor, pulling a pack of exploding cards out of his bag and proceeded to ignore her.

The silence was killing Pansy. "Listen, I have an idea, you know what happens when you stretch a rubber band again and again? It loosens up. So maybe if we stretch the binding charm again and again it would loosen up too? I'm sure you'd love to be able to move more than 10 steps away from me."

Ron shrugged and got up. "I have nothing better to do."

They spent the rest of the afternoon stepping away from each other, falling to the floor in pain when they went too far and then coming closer and trying again. By the end of the evening they had managed to step 211 steps away from each other.

Suddenly, Pansy stopped and cocked her head, listening for something.

"My mother's home." She seemed to pale. "Listen, this is important, don't speak too much okay? Okay."

A second later, her mothers voice floated faintly up the stairs to the corridor, "Pansy darling, come down, we have so much to talk about over dinner."

She was standing near the entrance when Pansy and Ron appeared at the top of the stairs. She was a tall woman, her emerald green dress cinched around her waist with a silver belt fashioned to look like a snake eating its own tail.

"Ah, I see we have company. You must be a Weasley? One of Pansy's new...friends from Gryffindor?" Her voice was warm and flowery, nothing like what Ron expected her to sound like.

"We're classmates. We've been bound together so Ronald will be staying with us until Madame Pomphrey can unbind us. I hope that's okay?"

"Of course, of course. We have a lot of rooms to spare, pick any. Please do join us for dinner in 15 minutes, Ronald. If you'd excuse me, I have work to get to."

As soon as she'd glided away Pansy frantically turned to Ron.

"Show me your clothes."

"What?"

"Please, just humour me."

She seemed desperate enough that Ron obliged, returning to her room and tugging his clothes out of his bag.

"Do you have nothing formal to wear?" she asked, looking at his jeans.

"I thought I'd be going home for winter." He said scaldingly. "Who wears formal clothes at home?"

"Where are your school robes?"

"Why?"

"Put them on, you can't wear any of these to dinner."

"I doubt your mother will mind, she seemed perfectly nice to me."

Pansy didn't say anything to that, she turned and pulled a black dress out of her wardrobe. "If you'd excuse me, I have to get changed."

When they met in the hall 10 minutes later, Ron had to admit to himself that Pansy looked beautiful. Her straight black hair hung down her back and a silver bracelet glinted against her pale skin and the angry red mark left by the binding.

" Please, don't speak too much." Pansy murmured to him. He rolled his eyes.

She grabbed his arm, "Ron, please." she sounded slightly more desperate now.

"Whatever, Pansy."

She wasn't comforted by that response, but Mrs Parkinson appeared and beckoned them with two long fingers.

"Come, we'll eat in the formal dining room since we have a guest." She smiled at Ron and Ron could see where Pansy got her good looks from.

The formal dining room was as big as the entryway was. A chandelier hung here too, but this one had hundreds of silver snakes holding lighted candles in their mouths. A long table of dark polished wood stood in the middle of the room and Pansy's mother sat at the head of it.

"Please," she gestured to some chairs, "sit."

Pansy took a seat three seats away from her mother and nodded at Ron to sit opposite her.

"How was this term, Pansy darling?" her mother asked her as two house elves scurried in with plates of food.

"It was fine." Pansy kept her eyes trained on her plate.

"And yours, Ronald?"

Ron opened his mouth to reply but Pansy glanced up and looked at him with wide eyes, shaking her head imperceptibly.

"It was...fine, Mrs Parkinson." Ron finished lamely.

"Please, call me Valette. I'm glad to hear that. Pansy I have so much to speak to you about, we should talk later tonight."

"Yes, mother."

They finished the rest of the meal in silence.

"Where do I sleep?" Ron asked Pansy as they headed upstairs after dinner.

"Just pick a room, they're all empty."

He picked the one furthest from hers, at the end of the hallway.

-X-

Ron jolted awake, peering into the dark. He fought through his confusion at the unfamiliar surroundings and his disorientation and remembered that he was in the Parkinson's mansion.

As his brain processed the surroundings he realized that a dull throbbing in his hand as well as a sense of unease had awoken him.

He got up from his bed and headed to the stairs. Surprisingly, the throbbing in his hand lessened slightly- Pansy wasn't in her room.

He crept down the stairs, using the strength of the pain to try and find Pansy. He heard them before he saw them. They were in one of the many living rooms they'd walked past on the way to the dining room. He stopped, listening at the door.

"You brought a blood traitor here? Into our home? You're a disgrace to the Parkinson name. I spent years training you how to act and behave. You've been sorted into Gryffindor, you lost your prefectship, your match to the Malfoy boy is gone. You disgust me."

"Mother, I-"

He heard a crack, followed by a cry of pain and a thump. His hand jerked with a sudden flash of pain.

He swung open the door and entered the room. Pansy hurried to stand up from where she was sprawled on the floor and Valette was smoothening out her dress.

"Pansy, we're leaving." Ron said coldly, keeping his eyes on Valette.

"Pansy isn't going anywhere. She has duties to attend to in this house."

"Pansy, we're leaving." Ron said again.

Pansy took an unsure step towards him and Mrs Parkinson raised her hand again. Ron stepped between them, looking Valette defiantly in the eye.

"Hit me," he hissed, "I dare you." He ignored Pansy's hands clenched into the back of his shirt in fear.

"How dare you?" her mother spat. She raised her wand but he was prepared and raised his just as fast.

"We're leaving." He repeated. "And you'll let us go. Because I'm sure Reeta Skeeter would just love this story."

Valette smiled. "Leave then. Pansy and I will definitely work this out later."

They backed out of the room.

They were standing on the road with their bags when Ron finally looked her over. Pansy looked as collected as she always did.

"Are you alright?" he finally asked her.

"I'm fine." she said, turning away.

He tugged her so that she was facing him. "You're not fine, you're bleeding." He wiped the blood from her lip with his thumb and she jerked back.

"I'm fine." She repeated.

"If you say so." Ron raised his right arm and she let out an involuntary whimper.

The Knight Bus pulled up in front of them.

"Did you raise your wand hand and call for us, lad?" the man said. Ron nodded, keeping his eyes on Pansy.

"Don't just stand there, get on then. Where to mate?"

"The Burrow. We're going home."