Summary: Pansy guards Draco in the Shrieking Shack. He notices that she has changed.

Author's Notes: This was written for tonihly's Mix and Match Challenge. My prompt was Nice! Pansy in the Shrieking Shack. What a difficult fic to write, eh? I hope you all enjoy it!

The Sun Shines On An Empty Heart

The Shrieking Shack was always dark… even when the moon was at its brightest, the only light that could enter was through a few cracks, and even those strips of light weren't bright enough to allow you to see well enough to have a decent conversation with somebody. You would need a wand to do that. However, at this point, it was too dangerous to have a wand. Wands were traceable. Wands in use could be detected, and easily found. Pansy and Draco would just have to discuss things in the dark.

Draco lied on a torn up bed, his right hand placed comfortably under his head for lack of a pillow. His eyes were closed, but his breath was light, letting Pansy know that he was still awake. She watched him rest quietly, not wanting to be a bother, and he appreciated her silence. It had been a long time since Draco was able to relax, and not worry about all of the responsibilities he had been forced away from. Stolen away from. They had taken him back. The Order had learned about Severus Snape's true alliances when he returned the boy to them, asking them to hide him as well as they could. Draco protested, under the knowledge that his family would be put in great danger if he remained with the Light Side. They did not allow him to leave. They had placed Pansy with him to make sure he did not.

Suddenly, Pansy saw two shining eyes. Draco decided to speak.

"Been a long time," he muttered, watching her in the nearby chair.

"Only a few weeks," she corrected, her voice light.

"Feels like longer."

"A bit, yeah."

"No." Draco propped himself up on his elbow. "A lot." Pansy's hands connected in her lap as she tried to blindly clean the dirt from beneath her fingernails. Every once in a while she would bite them, under the false belief that this would make them smoother. Draco watched her for a long time, neither of them speaking. He wished he could see her more clearly.

"Come here," he said, turning onto his back and leaning up, his entire body still on the bed. Pansy glanced at him with a face he could not comprehend, but did not move. "Come on," he tried again, motioning for her to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I can't," she told him, her hands falling to her lap.

"Why not?"

Silence.

"Why not, Pansy?" She gave him a sad look as he tried to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. There was a flash of bright light when he did so, which pushed him backwards into the wall the bed sat against. "Christ…" he mumbled, staring at her, "What the hell did they do?"

"It's a prison charm," Pansy explained, standing, "So you can't leave."

"Obviously."

"And…" she began, but cut herself off.

"And what?" She shrugged.

"So you can't hurt me." Draco groaned, leaning comfortably against the wall, making sure that his feet did not go further than the edge of the bed.

"Why the hell would I want to hurt you?"

"Why the hell should I trust you not to?"

"Smart." He rolled his eyes. "At least come closer." Pansy was still for a moment, but soon picked up the chair to move it closer to Draco's bed. She sat down, about a foot from the barrier, but looked away from Draco. He leaned forward a bit, trying to look at her, but still couldn't entirely see her face. He rested against the wall again, trying to decide on what to say.

"What did they do to you?" Pansy turned her head towards him, looking confused.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean…why are you listening to them?"

"Why aren't I?"

"Pansy," he moaned, "You're taking order from a Mudblood, that's-"

"Don't use that word." Pansy looked away again, if only to avoid Draco's eye. Her hands fell to her lap once again, and she stared down at them, not knowing what to say next.

"You've never had a problem with it before," he continued for her. Pansy shrugged.

"Sure I have," she told him. "I just didn't say it." Draco shook his head a bit, looking annoyed.

"Seriously…they must have done something to you. Just like them-"

"They haven't done anything to me, Draco. I'm just on their side. That's all." Her voice was firm, and caused a rather long period of silence. Draco crossed his arms tightly, looking almost childish. The only sounds that could be heard was the creaking of the house, which had become the reason nobody ever visited it, as well as the howls that would come from it years before, when Remus Lupin and his friends had occupied it once a month in order for him to transform away from the public eye. Pansy listened closely to every creak, wondering when one would sound like footsteps, so that she could be relieved from her current job. None came, and Draco spoke.

"You look different."

"It's dark."

"I know…but…you're taller than I remember you," he explained, eying her.

"I'm sitting down."

"Well…I can just tell, okay?"

"Alright."

"Why are you being so stupid, Pansy?" Pansy quickly turned to glare at Draco, her face looking entirely offended. "I'm sorry," he lied, and she rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as he had, and turned away from him again. There were so many things that she wanted to ask him - to tell him - but she knew that she could not. It wasn't time yet.

"Pansy…" Draco began, suddenly sounding worried. "Why aren't you with your parents?"

"Because they're Death Eaters. You should know that."

"Yes…but…how come-"

"I didn't want to. McGonagall helped me."

"Oh. But-"

"Why is it so hard to believe that I didn't want to join them, Draco?" Pansy suddenly interrupted. "Neither did you."

"No…but…why didn't they find you? Come after you?"

"They did." Her voice cracked.

"I don't remember-"

"They didn't tell you. They didn't want you to stop them."

"Who?"

"My parents."

"The Dark Lord sent your own parents after you?" Pansy shrugged.

"Proves how great he really is, doesn't it," she said, sarcastically. There was a pause. "Why do you call him that?"

"Sorry?"

"You call You-Know-Who the…the Dark Lord. Why?"

"Because he is, I guess." His eyebrows raised in surprise a little, but Pansy did not see it.

"You're still on his side?" she looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed in a sad sort of confusion.

"I don't know whose side I'm on anymore, Pansy." Draco's right hand moved up towards his face, and he rested his thumb on his bottom lip, stroking it unconsciously. He met her eyes. "So…are you friends with them now, or something?"

"Friends with whom?"

"The Gryffindors…Potter, and that lot." Pansy's face matched Draco's previous look of surprise.

"I'm not sure I would say that…I suppose I'm better friends with them now then I was before."

"And you're…nice…to them?"

"Well…yes. They're nice to me."

"They are?"

"Yes." A pause. "Draco…can I ask you something?"

"Why not?"

"Alright…" Pansy trailed off, not knowing how to ask her question. "It's just…is it true? Were you really there…?"

"Yeah, I was."

"What was it like?"

"Scary. He just talked to me…it was annoying, really. Then Snape came."

The two looked at each other, understanding what happened next. Draco couldn't help but feel that there was more separating them than just the barrier. Perhaps it was the fact that they hadn't seen each other in so long, or that they were now on different sides. But…what side was Draco on, really? Was he good or bad? Or perhaps, was he neither?

"So…how long have you been like this?" he asked her suddenly.

"Nice, you mean?" she raised an eyebrow, yet looked somewhat amused.

"Yeah. Nice." Pansy laughed. A gust of light wind blew through a crack, pushing some of her short black hair across her face.

"I'm not that nice, Draco," she looked down a bit. "I'm just on the good side. The right side."

"And they're good to you?"

"Better than I expected them to be, after all we've been through." Pansy looked up again. "All I had to do was ask, you know? I went to McGonagall - she's the Headmistress now - and asked if I could join them. It was just so easy, Draco, really."

"Apparently," Draco said, a slightly snarky edge to his voice.

"You just can't take it, can you?"

"Take what?"

"Knowing that there's something out there that's better than him. Better than Vol…Voldemort."

"You said his name." Draco looked dumbstruck.

"We all do now. It's…it's just a name." She looked away once again.

Draco did not answer, even though he knew that she was right. The light in the Shack had gotten darker, making them assume that it would be morning soon, and the moon was just starting to move away from them. The house still creaked, making everything seem eerier than it should have. Then, out of the blue, Draco spoke from behind the barrier:

"You still look different."

"Maybe I grew. Who knows?"

"No…" Pansy turned to him, curious. "It's not that. You look pretty."

"Thanks…"

"I mean, you've always looked pretty. But now…" Draco looked straight at her. "You look really nice, Pansy. Not just how you look, either. I mean…truly…truly kind. I think it makes you prettier or something." He bit his lip for a moment. "I don't know how to say it-"

"It doesn't matter," Pansy cut him off. There was a moment's pause. "You look nice, too, Draco."

As the sun rose, the Shack remained dark, but there was something better about it. There was a sort of calm in the darkness, which somehow overcame it. The two were silent, but that was alright. They each knew that in the end, things would be better. Things would be nicer.