A/N: Chapter five is up! Hope you like it!
Pansy excused herself from the dining room the moment Luna Lovegood yawned. Coming down from her bedroom took a lot more courage than she would like to acknowledge and staying there for a chat longer than necessary would take even more. So she went up her room, telling them that she's still feeling a little bit shaken and needs her rest. The moment she closed her door, she sank to the floor and wept.
Downstairs she could hear the faint sound of talking voices, but could not distinguish who's who. Pansy hugged her knees to herself, feeling very tired of everything and everyone. Sometimes she feels like she just wants to die, but that would be weakness. And even if her father had gone on to the other side, she knew he wouldn't tolerate weakness. And she shouldn't either.
But she can't help it sometimes. The feeling of loneliness had crept up on her while she was on the run, and sometimes it becomes too overwhelming to ignore. She keeps on telling herself that she's safe now, and that she's with good people, better people than her. But still, she felt helpless, small, irrelevant, and afraid.
She won't claim all the credit and say that this is all happening because of her. This is all happening because of The Dark Lord and his follower's (some of whom were her friends) refusal to back down even now that he is gone. They all believe that they could still be a menace, that they are still strong enough to pursue the cause of a pure society. Meaning, NO MUDBLOODS ALLOWED. Pansy is not dumb. She saw the flaw in the plan and still sees it. The flaw is they themselves, the followers of the Dark Lord's cause. Most of them were selfish, powered only by fear and not dedication (except maybe, Bellatrix, who stands for nothing now that she's dead), fuelled only by pride, and not compassion. They all stood for the wrong reasons, hungry for power but not quite ready to die for it. They did not – do not realize that only one person will benefit in a cause thousands were fighting for, humans and non-humans both. If they won the war, what then?
The Dark Lord does not love. He can't feel pity or gratitude, only loathing and disgust. All of the Death Eaters were only pawns in his game of chess. They were only weapons in his armoury, things to use and dispose when they no longer served his purpose. And all of them can be replaced. A world without muggles? Lovely. But a world where humanity is but a joke, where your worth depends on how much you can be of use to a noseless bastard? A world where the only colour is black, silver, and green? Sorry, but no. She won't have it.
And not only that, Pansy would never see pretty things anymore. Flowers sprouting from the bosom of the earth, wild dandelions fighting for survival, butterflies and orchids and puppies. All of those would be gone, to be replaced only by darkness and slaughter and echoes of screams and pleas from oppressed muggle-borns.
Make no mistake. Pansy is still trying to accept muggles. She hated them, but she learned to live with them, she learned their ways. She realized that just like witches and wizards, muggles are humans, some good, others, evil. But it's not easy to throw aside 17 years of pureblood upbringing just because it is the right thing to do. She wasn't really raised to do the right thing.
Pansy knew deep within her heart, (and yes, she has one), that even when the galleons would be waist-deep, too many to even spend, it won't make her happy. Pansy may seem shallow, but she appreciates the beauty small things hold within them. And she knows that even if he denies it, so does Draco.
Looking back in that dark alleyway, before Dean Thomas even came to sweep her of her feet, literally, she thought she knew who her persuants were. And she remembered her dream the night before, the one Granger woke her from. It was them. Goyle and Nott and Zabini, chasing her like she was their lunch. She felt rocks settle on the pit of her stomach with this realization, one that her subconscious tried to keep from her. There were others before them, muggles and otherwise. Once she came too close to Diagon Alley that someone recognized her, two boys from Ravenclaw who were a year younger than she was. They chased her down and beat her up, "for Harry Potter". Of course, Pansy thought, the price I have to pay for wanting Hogwarts to be spared, for Draco to know I was still there, waiting for him to come for me like he promised. One little selfish mistake for a lifetime of banishment from the world where she belonged…
When she settled in London, it was the muggles who sought her. They went inside her apartment one night, with masks on their faces. And they touched her. They said she was a "pretty little thing", and not having anything to eat for days, too weak to say no or fight back, she let them. They went inside her one by one, and they left a few notes on the floor after they were done. And just like that, her virginity was robbed from her.
But she had enough cash to keep on living. She changed address and went to work as a waitress in a hole-in-the-wall pizzeria. Sometimes she would regret what she let those men do to her. She would scrub herself in her bath until her skin bled, until the filth was gone. Until she no longer remembered the breathing of those men while they pushed inside her, and the strong scent of liquor and sweat that their bodies possessed. But it burned in her mind like the Dark Mark burned in Draco's arms. It was branded onto her very soul, and no amount of soap or bleach can cleanse it away. No matter how she tried to forget, she remembered. She will always remember.
Dean was almost ready to go to bed, but he thought he would pass by Pansy's room just to check, so he went upstairs and was not very surprised when he heard muffled sobs coming from behind the door. Not even bothering to knock, he went in, and found Pansy shivering on the floor, her body being racked by silent cries. He went to her and scooped her in his arms but she fought him and screamed, she flailed her arms and pushed him away from her while saying "Don't touch me! Please don't, please don't" over and over again. Her eyes were wide and afraid like he'd never thought she was capable of. Tears streaked her beautiful face and her nose was running.
"Sshhh, Parkinson. It's just me."
The sight of her like a cornered animal broke his heart. What have they done to you, Parkinson? How deep are your wounds, really? Tell me, because I can't seem to see where the cracks are. Pansy was still shaking and crying. He can't see her face but she could feel her wet hair on his hands.
"Pansy, Pansy it's Dean." He brought his hands below her chin and tilted her face so she could see his. He looked at her with pity and something else, something just lurking behind his heart that he couldn't seem to name. He tried to conceal it, but Pansy saw it too. But all she registered was a gentleness she was only used seeing in Draco. But this isn't Draco. She felt her consciousness being pulled into those eyes, like metal to magnet. Snap. Her nightmare is gone, to be replaced by reality.
"I… Thomas, what – what are you doing here?"
She looked at her position in his arms and he felt her stiffen, but Dean held on to her tighter.
"I came to check up on you."
"I'm fine."
"Don't be a liar, Parkinson."
He carried her to her bed and lay her down. She pushed her hair out of her face and looked him directly in the eyes. Dean thought it was the most terrible yet beautiful sight he ever beheld. A woman fighting her weakness, face wet with tears yet eyes full of determination to conquer whatever nightmare was waiting for her somewhere in the depths of the subconscious hidden behind her hazel eyes, which now looked like molten silver in the moonlight that lit a ray on the bed where she half-sit, half-lay. He was speechless for a moment, and didn't even realize Pansy was talking to her.
"Hello?" Pansy said, waving her hands in front of his face."
"Wha-?" was all Dean managed to say.
"Thomas, I know I'm magnificent to behold but could you at least focus and shut your mouth? It's hanging open."
Dean clamped his jaw shut. Was this narcissistic brand of sarcasm inherent in all of Slytherin? "Well," he began, looking faintly embarrassed, "were you saying something?"
"Yeah. I asked you if it would be okay if you stay with me for a while until I fell asleep."
She said this without missing a beat or batting an eyelash. And of course, how could Dean say no to that? But before he could even answer a yes, she moved away slightly and patted the empty side of her bed. Dean climbed in and, without even asking if he could, moved towards Pansy and hugged her to himself. She seemed to tense a bit, but she relaxed soon enough, until she fell asleep in his arms.
And all Dean could think about was that he could definitely get used to this.
A/N: Reviews would be awesome!