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She Keeps Me Warm
Chapter One
"...I can't change even if I tried,
Even if i wanted to..."
(She Keeps Me Warm - Mary Lambert)
Pansy Parkinson was notorious for being one of Hogwart's biggest flirts, only second to Lavender Brown. She slithered through the halls of Hogwarts, effortlessly catching the eye of every young wizard she passed but only giving full attention to Draco Malfoy, the object of her affection; or so it seemed.
Being Pansy Parkinson meant keeping up with appearances, the appearance of being a perfect Pureblood. She was royalty amongst the masses of mudbloods and half-bloods, but no one truly knew the battle she raged within herself.
Pansy was no spineless jellyfish. She was fierce and strong; or at least that's how people saw her. Playing out this persona kept her true feelings at bay, but she feared as the weeks span on, she wouldn't be able to hold this facade up much longer. The walls were caving in on her, the water was rising, and the dam was due to burst.
Inside, Pansy felt true fear. Fear of herself, and of others that don't know who she really is. How could she live freely and be true to herself without releasing every shred of respect she'd earned from her friends, enemies, and of course her Pureblood family? She couldn't. She wouldn't dare. What would they think? What would they say about her when she wasn't around? Who would she take down when it crumbles?
oOoOoOo
Throaty laughter resounded throughout the Great Hall. The room was loud with the sounds of excited chatter bouncing off the walls. The students of Hogwarts had just returned from a long summer break, the Sorting Hat's job was done, and the feast commenced. Pansy Parkinson, along with her closest friend, was beginning her seventh year.
Sitting at the center of Slytherin's table, she tried to focus on what her supposed beau, Draco, was saying. Vaguely aware, he was eyeing the newest additions to the Slytherin house. She knew it was useless; she tried not to admit it to herself, but that voice, that laughter, was always at the front of her mind. She could pick that laugh out of a hundred without seeing who it came from. How could she not?
She'd been stealing glances at her since third year. She smirked, remembering the heated look Draco wore as he explained just how he ended up in the Hospital Wing with a broken nose. No one ever caught her, and if they did they would never guess the real reason she stole so many peeks was because the object of her desires was a… a mudblood. Pansy's body jolted at the word, and Draco glanced at her concerned. She patted his hand for reassurance, but it was unaffectionate.
Her thoughts refocused amongst her peers. No, they wouldn't guess to whom her affection was really placed, masked as indifference; shamefully, they were directed at none other than the Gryffindor Princess. That's two strikes against her. Mudblood. Gryffindor. As the years passed, she slowly let blood prejudice go, but who could know that? Certainly not her peers or her family. She could feel the blood draining from her body. Who would ever guess that Pansy Parkinson had an undeniable infatuation with Hermione Granger?
She slowly let her eyes seek the source of her turmoil. She studied the girl, noting the changes summer brought. Her skin had tanned to a light caramel, and her face glowed as if kissed by the sun. Oh, how Pansy wished she could be near enough to touch those flushed cheeks, and count every freckle on her nose.
Hermione's locks fell just below her shoulders, wild tresses bouncing as she whipped her head to laugh at something the tall, lanky ginger beside her said. Ronald Weasley. She scowled. The prat, she thought bitterly.
She briefly pondered what he thought of Hermione. It was widely known that the two were destined to live "happily ever after", as so many have said. Pansy felt her fists tighten and her jaw clench at the thought of it. If the fates cared for Pansy at all, they'd make sure that fairytale ending never came to pass. She couldn't deny the puppy dog look in Ron's eye, as he merrily chatted away with her Hermione. The nerve.
She shook her head, staring back at her plate and silently reminding herself that Hermione had no clue of her intentions. She was so lost in thought that she missed a different look of longing coming from her very own table.
oOoOoOo
Malfoy pushed his English peas around his dinner tray, lining them up like little green soldiers. One, two, three, four. He counted them one by one as he stabbed them with his fork. He grinned at his childish antics. He looked up from his plate.
"So what's the plan for tomorrow, PanPan? Bit of hazing for the first year mudbloods?"
He laughed at his own joke, since no one else had. And so it begins, he sighed. Draco picked up a green soldier from his plate and tossed it at Pansy. She blinked hard, shook her head, and returned his gaze. "What's it you're saying?" He turned up his nose, jokingly ignoring her question.
"Mud. Bloods." Draco said it with such emphasis. Pansy rolled her eyes, and he laughed. He couldn't help but tease her, knowing she had affection for an impure. She picked up the pea and tossed it back at him, giggling at their own personal food fight.
His heart sank in his chest. She was perfect. But, he knew she'd never be his. He knew that she'd never know his true feelings for her.
He watched her as her eyes drifted back toward the table of Gryffindors. The pout of her lips came off her porcelain face, and he only dreamed of how they must feel. He shook his head, breaking concentration from his elusive daydream.
He needed to keep his feelings in check. Pansy was his best friend, that's it. That's all they'd ever be. Sure, to the rest of the world they were a couple; but in reality, he was just a cover for her.
He started again, lining up his soldiers. He had a feeling this year was going to be a battle for him, so at least he was prepared.
oOoOoOo
Hermione swiftly rose from her spot at the Gryffindor Table. She glanced down at her Head Girl pin, grinning to herself. She had waited for this opportunity the last six years. Finally, the title was hers! Idly, she wondered who she'd share the honor with. She shrugged her shoulders, knowing she would find out soon enough. She headed towards the end of the table where a group of anxious first year Gryffindors sat huddled, whispering excitedly.
She cleared her throat to catch their attention. "I'm Hermione Granger, Head Girl. Your Gryffindor Prefect will be over shortly to lead you to your Common Room.
As Gryffindors, it's your duty to uphold your house with honor, bravery, and most importantly - honesty. Do your family and your house proudly as you begin your Hogwarts journey. Good luck, and welcome home."
She gave them one last smile and a wave before nodding at the Prefect to take the group.
Hermione made her way toward the Entrance Hall. She smiled to herself, proud of the speech she'd just made to the little first years. She shifted her glances between her peers.
Now, who could the Head Boy be this year? Maybe a Hufflepuff? That would be fun! We could study together and share notes! Hermione's thoughts heralded, hopefully. As long as it's not a… Her thought faded as she watched Draco Malfoy standing in front of the Head Dorm portrait.
...Slytherin, Hermione completed her thought. Perfect. This should be interesting…
Hermione approached Draco as he struggled to remember the password to enter the Head Commons. "Andotrin Venalous!" The snooty portrait laughed loudly at him as he failed to give the correct password. Again.
The portrait danced around the frame. She wore a bright green dress with beautiful burgundy accents. A snake and lion pin adorned her lapel.
"What do you want Granger! Can't you see I'm busy?" he snapped.
"Good Morning, Madame Claire! Andobixtrious Venalous!"
Draco's jaw dropped. She couldn't help but laugh at his bewilderment.
She stepped through the threshold. Home. She inhaled deeply, smelling the embers of the fireplace. Scanning the room, she noticed the oversized chocolate sofa facing the fireplace. Small pillows in her and Draco's house colors cornered the sofa. At least Hogwarts has a sense of humor.
She walked passed their shared common room, and into her sleeping quarters. Her parents danced silently in the picture perched upon her nightstand, and Crookshanks purred loudly. He was nestled under her duvet, asleep. She sat on her bed, and fell back in amusement. She couldn't believe she finally made it here.
Head girl. Hermione Granger. Mudblood. She cringed at the last word. She no longer felt that title resonated with her. No one would see her as a Mudblood anymore, for now she had a title. Impure or not, she was head girl - and that meant something.
She heard an annoyed growl coming from the common room, and she quietly giggled to herself.
She grabbed her pillow and held it over her face. This is going to be quite a year!
