A/N: Yeah, I know. The update took longer than I promised. Sorry about that. I wanted to make it good. It's not but, uh, well, it exists anyway.

Disclaimer: Belongs to JKR, of course. Just in case you didn't catch on yet...

"I don't like 'er very much," Fleur complained loudly after she returned to the kitchen. "She iz very strange."

"Nah, she is just a bitch," Ginny commented coolly, as she washed another dish. The two of them were alone in the kitchen, as the rest of the family was done with breakfast and had gone about their business.

"She wasn't mean," Fleur paused, thinking over what Ginny said. "She was just strange."

"What did she say?"

"She talked a lot about You-Know-Who."

"And?"

"Somezing about ze checkers."

"Checkers?"

"Yes."

"That is odd," Ginny agreed. "Maybe the Death Eaters damaged her brain."

Fleur just shrugged. She thought their guest quirky at the very best, but she did not consider her much of a threat anymore. Bill didn't fancy nutty witches, and besides, she was much too young. Overall, Fleur was pleased with her findings, and the good mood stayed with her as she plowed through the owls she received with regards to the wedding.

"Anything about the dress, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked after she returned inside.

"No, not yet," Fleur responded, slightly worried.

"If you don't receive it in two days, we might want to go out and look for a new dress," Mrs. Weasley suggested. Fleur ordered the dress about a month ago, but it still hadn't come in. Fleur and Mrs. Weasley have had their knickers in a bunch over it for the past two weeks or so.

"Yes," Fleur agreed. "I will send zem an owl right now."

"Mum, I am done," Ginny announced. As far as she was concerned, Fleur could get married naked, and she would not care. Well, it would be a bit awkward to see her sister-in-law-to-be naked, but the embarrassment it would cause her might be just worth it. Ginny was not in a good mood this morning, her thoughts more malicious than usual. She scolded herself for being so mean all the way to Ron's room where Harry was staying.

Naturally, the boys were there, talking the whole Pansy thing over. Neither was pleased with their new guest, and Ginny shared their sentiments.

"Phlegm went up to see her," Ginny told them after a few minutes of listening to them complain. "She called her 'weird'."

"Weird? Dunno, I'd describe her more like 'evil' or maybe, 'plotting'?" Ron's eyebrows rose slightly.

"She said that Parkinson talked about You-Know-Who and checkers quite a bit," Ginny reported.

"What?" Harry heard her, but he was not quite sure if he heard her right.

"Checkers, Harry," Ginny repeated, sighing. "I have no idea what that means."

"Maybe she is bonkers," Ron suggested.

"That's what I said," Ginny agreed. "So what are you gonna do about her?"

"Checkers?" Harry was still stuck on that. "Maybe we should just go and talk to her."

"Mum said we weren't allowed," Ginny told him. "She said for everyone to leave her alone until she heals."

"Well, let's see if she's healed," Harry said resolutely and walked out of the room, not really caring if the other two followed him.

"Pot-pot! How staggeringly phenomenal that you took the time of your day to come and see me," Pansy grinned at Harry from the safety of her bed. "But there is no need for you to worry. I am recovering spectacularly, as Mrs. Weasley keeps telling me. So see, no need for your concern."

"I wasn't concerned about your health, Parkinson," Harry growled, and Pansy's grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"Aww, I am hurt, Potts," Pansy cooed. "Why else would you come here if you weren't worried about me?"

She paused, and looked up at him with another toothy smile.

"You brought me balloons!"

Harry glared at her.

"Did you make me a giraffe?"

"No balloons, Parkinson," Harry pronounced slowly, as if he was talking to someone exceptionally stupid. In his opinion, he was.

"But why else would you come then? Couldn't resist the pull of my magical personality and my bewitching body?" Those words were accompanied by a rather suggestive gesture when Pansy's hand slipped to the edge of her blanket and slowly pulled the fabric up, exposing her naked thigh.

Harry's eyes involuntarily followed her hand. His face turned a light shade of pink.

"Cover yourself up, Parkinson," Harry cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

"Nice try, Parkinson," Ginny scoffed from behind him. Of course, Ginny and Ron followed Harry to Pansy's room to provide moral support and to tease the Slytherin.

"But Harry doesn't like Slytherin sluts," she continued, her eyes gleaming somewhat dangerously.

Pansy just smirked at her and continued to play with the edge of her blanket. She decided that she certainly deserved a pat on the back for making Potter's girlfriend jealous. But seriously, she had been in the Weasely household for less than twenty four hours, and already, she pretty much alienated every female living there. She was fairly sure that Mrs. Weasley did not hate her yet, because she only flashed Mr. Weasley by an accident. But Ginny and Fleur both felt threatened by her, which Pansy, to an extent, found hilarious. I mean, come on! Pansy Parkinson and Harry Potter? That's just as likely as Severus Snape and well, anyone, really. The man must be asexual or something, or so Pansy thought. As unpleasant as this track of thought was, she decided to return to the conversation with a fitting, yet low:

"He likes them Gryffindor, eh?"

And then, knowing very well how weak of a come back it really was, she continued:

"I don't really understand, though. I would imagine that red clashes horribly with your hair. Thus being the whore of Gryffindor must be very confusing... color-wise..."

"I am sure green works for you," Ginny smiled saccharinely. "Goes well with envy."

"Envy?" Pansy scoffed. "What am I envious of?"

"Aw, Parkinson," Ginny moved closer, something predator like about her. Pansy noted the change in attitude and decided that she did not like it very much. She felt like she was losing the upper hand in this conversation and she did not like that.

"I would imagine that you are more... perceptive than that," Ginny continued. "It clearly was not the fear or hate of You-Know-Who that drove you here."

Pansy gave her a dumbfounded look. Well, Ginny was sort of right. But Ginny could not have known. There was no way she could, right?

"What are you talking about, Weasley?" Pansy spat out. "You think that I almost died just so I can stay at your house and hang out with you people? I never thought you were especially bright, but you are dumb, even for a Weasley."

Too late did Pansy realize that the last insult was a bit of an overkill. Maybe offending the family under whose roof you are staying was a bad idea? Just maybe?

"Oh, stuff it, Parkinson," Harry reprimanded her, holding Ron back from charging at her. "You are evidently here for a reason and I--"

"Yeah, the reason is that Volders likes to torture people. Durr," Pansy told him impatiently. She really wasn't getting through to these people, was she?

"Parkinson," Harry began again. "Look, I am not stupid."

"All evidence to the contrary," Pansy muttered under her breath.

Harry glared at her.

"Voldemort is not going to torture and almost kill a member of a prominent pure blood family just to leave her on the doorsteps of one of the most wanted Order families." Here, he paused, and came closer, pulling out his wand. "I want to know why you are here, Parkinson. And you better tell me the truth."

"Or what, Potty? Are you gonna Crucio me?" Pansy mocked as Harry's eyes gleamed dangerously. "Do you think that you can cause me more pain than He did? Get real, Potter."

"I don't want to hurt you, Parkinson," Harry seemed to be going all out for the good cop-bad cop routine. "But I want the truth."

"I told you the truth," Pansy repeated. "I know that you are no Ravenclaw, Potts, but let's think about this, okay? Voldiekins does not like Draco. He knows that Draco and I are close. He tortures me to hurt Draco. I almost die. He thinks that I am dead and so the Death Eaters deposit me in a random location. With me so far?"

"Parkinson... you are not telling the truth," Harry growled.

"Oh, Pot-pot, you will never learn, will you?"

"Learn what?"

"How to tell a lie from the truth."

"I may not, but some Veritaserum might do the trick. Ginny?" Harry turned to her, and Pansy went rigid. Of course. She should have thought of that. Or someone should have, anyway. They would give her Veritaserum. And if they questioned her under the influence... well, then she would tell the truth. That would be bad. Very, very bad. Luna Lovegood's fashion sense bad. Pansy took a deep breath. She would not show her fear. Maybe there was a way out of this.

"Harry, I didn't find much," Ginny told him, handing him a small bottle. It looked about empty. There was a little bit of the liquid at the bottom, but barely enough to wet her lips.

Pansy, who was not that great at potions, never really bothered to find out much about the influences of Veritaserum. If she did, she would have known that the amount in the bottle was enough to make her talk. However, she did not know that. And so, she kind of panicked a little. In a very effective, organized sort of way.

As Harry reached out to take the Veritaserum from Ginny's hand, Pansy, not too graciously, stood up from the bed.

"What are you doing?" Ron growled from somewhere near the door.

"Going to the bathroom," Pansy responded, staggering forth.

"No, you aren't," Harry reached out for her hand, holding the Veritaserum bottle in the other. "Not until you--"

There he was interrupted by Pansy's body hitting his. In process of moving towards the door, Pansy tripped on something on the floor, and in a well-aimed fall, she fell on Harry. It was effective. Her head came crashing into his shoulder, and as he fell, he let go off the bottle. Pansy scores again. Or so she thought before she realized that her intricate plan had landed her on top of Harry Potter's chest, a place where she would rather not be. Yet, she could not help but notice how muscular his chest was under her. Bad thoughts, Pansy, bad thoughts, Pansy thought. Must stop this instant. Potter: ewey.

"Get off him, Parkinson," Ginny snarled, pulling her off.

"Aww, no need to be jealous, Easy Weasy," Pansy smirked, getting up. "I wouldn't touch your boyfriend if I had to pick between him and Volders-molders."

"Ew," Ginny made a face at Ron.

"I know, right? And you date it!" Pansy decided to misinterpret Ginny's reaction.

"Parkinson!" Harry interrupted them. "You broke the last bottle of Veritaserum. It's all gone!"

"Ooops." Oh, she was so not sorry.

"You did that on purpose," Harry accused her, quite rightly.

"Did not."

"Yeah, you did. I saw you fall on him... that way."

"Are there multiple ways to fall on someone?" Pansy quirked an eyebrow. "Maybe next time I can fall on him in a different way. Or yet better, maybe he won't grab my arm next time and pull me onto him. Seriously, Potts, get some action already. Preferably from your girlfriend, and not me. Or like, a goat."

"Parkinson," Ginny and Harry growled in unison.

"Merlin, it was just a suggestion. But you both need to unwind... get laid... stuff like that."

"How are we going to question her without Veritaserum?" Harry turned around to look for Hermione who was not there.

"You could just take my word for it," Pansy suggested with a smile.

"Right," Ginny said sardonically. "When pigs fly."

"Actually..."

"I don't trust you, Parkinson," Harry took out his wand and pointed it at her. "But we need Veritaserum to question you. Until then, I will keep a close eye on you."

"Seriously, Potty-head, you need to relax a bit. I promise not to kill you in your sleep," Pansy kept her smile plastered on her face. Nope, killing him in his sleep was not part of the plan. Not at least from what she was told, anyway.

"Whatever, Parkinson. I am watching you," and with that, defeated Harry retreated. Ginny and Ron, needless to say, followed.

Pansy spent the rest of the day resting alone in her room. Other than the time when Mrs. Weasley came in to change her bandages and try some spells, she was left alone by the rest of the family. She did not object to this, she liked it. She needed some time to think. To go over what she was supposed to do here and how to do it the best.

Pansy leaned against the windowsill. She leaned her forehead against the glass as her thoughts kept pummeling forth. It felt like they would ran through her skull and penetrate her forehead. There were just so many things, and she barely remembered them all. That, and she was so damn tired. Her heard span, and she felt like she was about to faint. Feeling her forehead, she staggered towards the bed. She laid down in the hopes to assuage the pain and organize her thoughts.

Daffy must be rescued. Draco needs help escaping. Daddy is not gonna help. It was all on her. How long though? When? Something about a sword? Or wait, was it a veil? She was so confused. There was something she needed to remember, but she had no idea what it was. There were so many things going through her mind. Daffy was screaming in pain. Draco was watching, tears streaming from his eyes. But how did she see this? She was not there when Daffy was being hurt. The memory was gone as quickly as it came. The images were quickly replaced by other thoughts. They were coming faster and faster. Scrambled images of her past, things she hast long forgotten. Sword. Veil. Cup. Locket. Ring. Diary. Snake. Daisies. Clouds. Chains. Pansy passed out.

"Mum says the dinner is ready. You can come down if you want," someone called from behind her door, and Pansy sat up, startled.

She had a bizarre dream. She was talking to Snape, whom, of course, she knew very well as an intimate friend of her father's. They were talking about something related to Voldemort. She wasn't sure what it was. And then Snape used some spell on her father. Something powerful, because she could smell the magic. When she woke up, the smell was still with her, but most of the dream was forgotten.

"I'll be there in a minute," Pansy yelled at the door.

Swinging her legs off the bed, she got up and went to the mirror. She should at least look acceptable before she came down to meet the family, no? Well, her bringing up wouldn't let her do it any other way.

Looking in the mirror, she sighed. The black eye was going away, and there was a big scab on her cheek. Yup, that would definitely leave a scar. She sighed again. She could do nothing about her face, but she could do something about the outfit. There were quite a few things she could do to make this picture better had she had her wand. But her wand was lost, if not destroyed, and all she had was, well, nothing. She did her best to summon what she's heard of wandless magic. It was possible, or so she's heard. Some wizards and witches have even mastered it. She would give it a try. The spells she needed were very simple anyway, right?

"Bill, did you call her down?" Mrs. Weasley asked, sitting down at the table. The whole family, including Harry and Fleur, was gathered in the kitchen for the supper.

"Yeah, at least twenty minutes ago," Bill responded from Fleur's side.

"Well, did she say she would come down?"

"Yup."

Mrs. Weasley glowered a little, but then passed it off with a shrug. Maybe the girl changed her mind or something.

Pansy did not change her mind. In fact, her mind was pretty dead set on coming down for dinner. She had a tiny little problem though. Her dress was very...

"Pink." That was George's first reaction when he saw Pansy tumble down the stairs.

"Very, very fitting hot pink," Fred agreed with him instantly.

It was the truth. While mending Ginny's old shirt to fit her and making it into a dress, the piece of cloth went through certain changes, kind of like a teenage boy. But instead of turning into a bear (growing hair in weird places, broadening of shoulders, deepening of the voice) like human boys often do as they go through puberty, the dress's path to maturity was a little different. It turned into a bright pink piece of spandex, somehow. Pansy did not really have that many choices after that. She only had that one piece of cloth, and she did not want to dally any longer. She was on a mission, after all. So she went down wearing a hot pink spandex dress that did not only hug her in all the right places, but hugged her everywhere.

There was multitude of reactions at the table. Mrs. Weasley choked on her food. Harry sat agape. Ron's face matched his hair. Ginny's face matched the hair of a polar bear. Fleur punched Bill to get him to stop staring. Fred and George fixated their eyes at a certain part of Pansy that the dress exposed all too well. Mr. Weasley cleared his throat, not quite sure where to look.

"Oh, hello, dear," Mrs. Weasley recovered herself quickly enough to make room for her at the table. "Why don't you sit here and join us?"

"That would be lovely, thank you," Pansy smiled, and sat down between Ginny and George.

"George, Fred, stop staring," Mrs. Weasley reprimanded them. Fred and George mostly ignored her. "Pansy, dear, you got to excuse them. They do that sometimes. I think you know everyone here, right?"

"I think so," Pansy smiled again, and Mrs. Weasley sat down.

"What happened... how did you... where did that horrid pink thing come from?" Ginny finally forced out.

"I made it," Pansy told her, shrugging. Mrs. Weasley put a plate in front of her and the family, or at least the ones that were not busy staring at Pansy, resumed their meal.

"Huh?"

"I. Made. It."

"How?"

"You know, magic? It's pretty cool."

"You don't have a wand," Harry, who sat across from her, joined the conversation, though his eyes were hardly on her face.

"Ever heard of Wandless Magic, Potts?"

"Yeah, you can't do it."

"Doesn't mean I didn't try."

"Oh, wow," Fleur deigned to speak to them. "You did zat wizout a wand?"

"Yup," Pansy shrugged. "That was the problem, I think."

"You muzt be very good at sewing spellz then, no?"

"I am alright," Pansy shrugged again.

The dinner continued in a like manner. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged looks, but said nothing regarding Pansy's rather revealing outfit. Fleur spoke to her, though there was a hint of disdain in her voice; perhaps she thought the dress was somewhat distasteful. Bill did his best not to stare at either of the witches. It was difficult. Harry had to face the same problem, and Ginny's frowning face was not enough to save him. He kept kicking himself in his mind for staring, and once, he even tried to imagine Voldemort dressed in that instead of Pansy. It certainly calmed him down a bit, but he burst out laughing.

"Harry?" Ron asked carefully. "What's going on?"

"I-- haha-- uhh--" Harry attempted speech and failed.

"Harry? Are you okay?"

"Voldemort... spandex..." Harry forced out, continuing to laugh.

"Potts finally lost his marbles, didn't he?" Pansy whispered, watching Harry laugh like a maniac.

"Shut up, Parkinson," Ron glared at her. "Harry? What is it, Harry?"

Now everyone's attention was focused on him.

"Uhh... I--" Harry was very bad at this sort of situations. "I imagined Voldemort in what Pansy is wearing."

There was an astounded silence.

Then Pansy burst out laughing.

Then the Weasley twins followed. And so, in the end, the whole family imagined Voldemort wearing a pink, spandex dress. The Dark Lord, had he known about this, would not have been pleased. In fact, it's probably safe to say that he would be very displeased by such an image. Or maybe he would think it an interesting idea worth trying out. Maybe.

Harry, having turned a nice shade of scarlet, glared at Pansy. It so was her fault. If it hadn't been for her stupid, pink Spandex and her rather interesting girl-parts, this would not have been an issue. Everyone else was distracted by her, too. He even noticed Ron next to him watching her, and Ron has made his feelings towards the Slytherin very, very clear just few hours before. And then an idea struck Harry. Maybe that's why Pansy was there. To distract them. Distract and then maybe betray them. He glared at her some more, doing his best to glare at her face and not at some place below her face that was not her face.

He congratulated himself in his head. She wasn't a spy, but she was a distraction. Like when she jumped on him when he approached her with Veritaserum earlier. He was sure she did not just trip. People don't trip like that and land on him, spilling the last of a potion. Or press themselves against him in that fashion if they are not-- Harry's thoughts stopped in their tracks, looked around, pointedly avoiding each other's stares, and then backtracked from this dangerous territory. And thus he was able to continue on his previous track of thought. His spidey sense was tingling, and Harry just knew that Pansy Parkinson was up to something not good. He needed some answers out of her. He need more of the truth serum. Time to write to Hermy? Yessir.

Harry spent the remainder of the supper composing a letter to Hermione. Yeah, so maybe it took a month to brew that stupid potion, but Hermione was smart and really, really good at potions, no? Only if they had the Half-Blood Prince copy of-- Harry's thoughts paused again. Now they were scared. Thinking about the big HBP generally put Harry in a broody-anger mood, and that was no fun. Even his thoughts didn't like his mind in that state of mind. They generally just sorta left when he got like that, which would explain why he sounded so much less-intelligent when the was broody or angry. Anyways, Harry ended up brooding without his thoughts for the rest of the dinner. Not even the sight of Pansy's spandex was enough to cheer him up, though it did a lot for the rest of the male population at the table.

"So, Parkinson," Ron began half way through the dessert. "When are you gonna run back to Malfoy?"

Mr. Weasley glared at him and Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to sharply remind him about he should treat their guests, when Pansy interjected:

"Why, Ronald," she smiled sweetly. "The same time you will. When we all go to Hogwarts in the fall."

Ron gave her a dumbfounded look, and was about to respond with something that Mrs. Weasley would not approve of, when he was interrupted by Fred and George:

"Excellent!"

"Perhaps you can wear more spandex!"

"Lime green, maybe?"

"It would bring out your eyes."

"The blue-ness of them."

"Green works very well with blue--"

"I am glad you decided to stay, dear," Mrs. Weasley gave Pansy's hand a quick pat. "It's safer for you, children, this way."

Pansy smiled at her gratefully before flashing Ron a victorious grin. Of course she would stay, that was the whole point, but acting to eagerly in this situation could have been used against her later on. Or even now. Harry was watching her, she knew that because he told her so. Even besides that, the Order would watch her every step very carefully. She was no Draco Malfoy or anyone mildly important, but she was not on their side either. Pansy made sure she did not underestimate her enemies, though these people would not stay her "enemies" for long, as she's decided. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer? Yeah, that always made sense to Pansy, and she thought it rather fitting for her current situation.

"...but Mum, she should help, too!" Pansy's thoughts were interrupted by Ginny's whining. "She ate the supper, the least she can do is help us clean up."

"Ginevra Weasley," Mrs. Weasley said. "She is our guest. She is still very sick and tired, and besides, I doubt that she wants to ruin that dress."

Ginny sighed. These days, there was no arguing with her mother. She mostly assumed that Mrs. Weasley was tenser than a male blast-ended skewt during childbirth because of the up-coming wedding. Pansy's "popping-in" also did not really help to relieve the stress, if anything, it heightened it. Sort of like bringing lots of inflammable liquids to the blast-ended skewt nursery. Thus, Mrs. Weasley was a bit tense.

Pansy, having observed the exchange, excused herself and retired to her room. She tried to evaluate the dinner, but instead, she passed out on her bed again, almost as soon as she reached her room.

Pansy spent the next morning in the same fashion as she had spent the morning before, and slept through most of it. Then there was a sharp knock on the door, and Bill asked to come in. She was beginning to recognize the different voices of the Weasleys, and she thought it deserved a little clap. She indulged that thought.

"Don't you seem happy this morning," Bill commented with a smile.

"Yeah, I feel better," Pansy agreed, not really wanting to elaborate any further.

"Glad to hear that. Mum told me to call you down for breakfast. That is, if you want breakfast."

"Oh, right, sure," Pansy beamed at him. "I'll be down in a few."

"I'll tell her that," Bill turned to leave.

"Wait," Pansy called. "So, you are the one who found me, right?"

"Yeah," Bill turned around to face her.

"Was my wand there?"

Now, she really was not lying. She could not recall what happened to that very important piece of wood after the Volds decided to have a little chat with her.

"Strangely enough, it was strapped to your leg, if I am correct," Bill told her.

"Ugh, really? So, uh, can I have it?"

"It's broken."

"You broke it?" Pansy did her best to keep her cool. She was a witch. She needed her wand. Duh.

"No, no," Bill waved his hands as to dismiss the accusation. "It was broken already. The two pieces were hanging together by a thread. Now it's broken completely."

"Oh," Pansy turned away. This was rather depressing, she had to admit. She liked her wand. They were friends. It was like getting a haircut after you grew your hair the same way for ten years. A bizarre experience that left her feeling vulnerable and exposed. Also, a little phobic of scissors.

"No worries," Bill tried to comfort her. "I am sure you can get a new wand. Not yet, but before school starts. "

"Hm."

"Yeah," he tried to grin at her again. "I broke at least half a dozen wands when I was working in Egypt. When a mummy comes chargin' at ya, you want to stab it whatever you got. And let me tell you, mummy insides don't just wash off."

"I thought mummies had no insides," Pansy commented dryly.

"They don't. They are filled with some herbs. But when you stick your wand in a mummy, they herbs react with your wand, and dissolve it."

"Oh," Pansy acknowledged his words with a nod. "That's unfortunate."

"Yeah, well. I got over it. Broken wand is not the end of the world. My brother Ron, you know him, tried to tape his wand together."

"Yeah, I remember that. He is not very bright."

"He's alright," Bill shrugged. "But maybe I can get you the pieces of your wand if you promise not to tape them together." He grinned at her, and Pansy had to smile back.

"That'd be great," she agreed. "I would be--"

There, she was cut off by an inhuman shriek, coming from downstairs. Pansy idly wondered if she missed a memo about a Death Eater attack.

A/N: This is it for now, kids. And yes, in case you were wondering why my grammar is so bad and why there are skipped words and such, I do need a beta. I know. There will be an update within three weeks. I hope. But you know how life gets. To the people that reviewed, THANKS!!! Your reviews were highly appreciated :D No time to respond, but thanks anyway.