Song Inspiration for this chapter, particularly for the first part of the chapter:
Clean - Taylor Swift
Pansy Parkinson watched as her father dragged her mother toward the Floo at the far side of the ballroom in Malfoy Manor. Completely tuning out the voices of Blaise and the various Weasleys that stood around her, she kept her gaze locked on her mother's retreating back.
Posy Parkinson had always been weak-willed and timid when it came to her husband. Aston Parkinson was a cold, cruel man and, if Posy had ever held any defiance within herself, it had been thoroughly crushed by the time she had borne him their only child: a daughter, and yet another disappointment to the proud, self-important man. While the time that she'd been able to steal with her daughter alone had always been precious to Posy, she'd never been brave enough to stop her husband from attempting to crush Pansy's strong spirit the way he had so fully decimated her own, and they had quickly grown apart.
There had always been a part of Pansy, a small sliver of hope within her heart that refused to die, that had been waiting for the day her mother would finally stand up for her… As she stared at her mother's retreating back and the witch did not once look back, that kernel of hope shriveled up within her heart and died a swift death. Even knowing that her husband would disown his daughter for her association with the Weasley's as well as Pansy's own words, her mother still did not look back…did not stand up to her husband…did not defend her only child.
Without even releasing her mother's hand, her father grabbed a large fistful of powder and hurled it into the inner hearth. When the flames turned emerald, he dragged her into the yawning cavity and then they were gone. Pansy felt her chest cave in at their very final exit from her life, and her shoulders curled inward while her head drooped.
"If that was a genuine offer, Mrs Weasley," she said, her voice sounding weak and hollow and not at all like the brash witch she was known to be, "I may be obliged to take you up on it. I have a feeling that my name will be blasted from my family tree sooner rather than later."
She felt Ron's hand spasm around hers as he gripped her tightly, and she knew that he was readying himself to comfort her. In the short time that they had gotten to know one another, she had quickly come to realize that her mate was incapable of seeing her in pain – be it physical, emotional, or mental. Before he could take her into his arms, however, another set of arms enveloped her body.
She found herself surrounded with the scent of jasmine and marigold, along with hints of freshly baked bread and sweet vanilla. Molly Weasley held her tightly for a moment before Pansy felt the woman's head turn slightly.
"My dear," she whispered in Pansy's ear, low enough that no one around them could hear, "I know perfectly well just how cold and uncaring Pureblood families can be. While I was lucky in my own family, I know so many more that have been less lucky. I'm sorry that your mother cannot see past her fear of your father's wrath. However, know that my offer was more than sincere. You are Ron's, so you are mine. It is that simple. You will never be without love and a home now that you are a daughter of mine. Do you understand?"
Pansy felt her breath hitch in her throat but managed to hold back most of her tears. As Molly pulled away from her, Pansy nodded. A white square of fabric appeared in front of her, and she looked up into the kind eyes of Arthur Weasley. She accepted the handkerchief from him and dabbed away the few tears that had slipped past her control. She watched as Ron's father pulled Molly into his side in a way that seemed extremely familiar, then felt a small smile curl her lips as Ron tugged her into his body in the same way.
The next few minutes were a blur as Pansy was officially introduced to the other Weasleys that had attended the ball. She remembered Percy vaguely from school – it was hard to forget a Head Boy as pompous as he had been – but was surprised to find that in the wake of the last few years, he had become much quieter and more unobtrusive. She wondered what had caused the change but decided that she would ask Ron later.
Bill Weasley was…unexpected. Tall and lean, his long hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck and in his ear dangled an earring with a fang hanging from the end. He had likely once been stunningly handsome, she thought to herself, but his face was now heavily scarred. At his side stood a vaguely familiar beautiful blonde witch. She was willowy and only a few inches shorter than the man beside her, and there was something almost…magnetic about her. Bill introduced her as his wife Fleur and Pansy suddenly remembered that this had been the champion for Beauxbatons during the Triwizard Tournament.
"Welcome to the family," the witch said in a lilting voice that only carried a faint trace of her once-heavy French accent. "It is much to get used to, but I can assure you that you will never be lonely around the Weasleys."
Pansy saw the look that passed between Fleur and Molly and puzzled at it. It seemed like there was quite a history between the two witches but she saw only acceptance in both sets of eyes.
"Pansy," Ron said, pulling her attention away from his family in front of them. "Would you like to stay at the Burrow for the next few days until we return to school?"
Pansy thought about it. While the spoiled little girl she had once been wanted nothing more than to return to her home where the elves would give her everything she needed or wanted and she would be surrounded by luxury, she found that the woman within her had decidedly deeper needs. More than being spoiled or pampered, she craved acceptance…love. She wanted to be wrapped securely in Ron's embrace, his lanky limbs twined around her body as his familiar scent of pine, leather, and spice enveloped her senses.
"Yes, please," she said, and saw Ron's lips quirk up into a relieved smile.
As someone born and raised in a palatial Manor home, the Burrow was a shock. It was small, with so many additions added on overtime to make enough space for the veritable army of children that had been raised within its walls that it no longer resembled a true home. She could feel the tingle of magic brushing against her skin as Ron had showed her around and knew that it was mostly held together with magic.
While even a year ago Pansy would have turned up her nose at the thought of being expected to stay within the building, war had changed her. Now she did not see the crooked walls or haphazard landings or the small spaces within. There was more to a space than what one could see, after all.
"I know it isn't much," Ron said with just a hint of self-consciousness in his voice, "and I promise I'll get us our own place as soon as we graduate but, for now…"
"I think it's beautiful, Ron," she whispered softly as she stood inside Ron's bright orange bedroom, just beneath the attic.
He scoffed, the sound skeptical but not malicious.
"No, you don't understand," Pansy said, turning to look at him as she struggled to put her feelings into words. "Yes, it's a bit…haphazard, and it is definitely nothing like Parkinson Manor but...it feels…warm. The magic here is full of love and acceptance. While my parents' home may be much more grand than yours, this place radiates a warmth that their cold, sterile home could never even pretend to have."
Ron smiled at her words.
"I'm glad you can feel it, too, Pans."
He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, then her nose, then her chin. A soft brush of his lips grazed both cheekbones, and her eyes fluttered closed as his lips brushed over her brows. A slight pause, then his lips brushed over hers in a featherlight kiss.
"I'm sorry about what happened with your parents, Pans," he said, and she felt a sob hiccup in her chest as reality crashed down on her once more. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks, only to be wiped away with gentle brushes of Ron's lips to her face. "I can't pretend to understand how you're feeling, so I won't even try. I will tell you, though, that you will always have a home, Pans. You are my home, and I am yours…no matter what."
The sobs broke free at his words and Pansy held tightly to Ron as her world crashed down around her. She felt like she was drowning in a torrential storm, the winds tearing at her until she was certain that there would be nothing left of her in their wake. Even as she felt certain that the tempest would blow her away, she felt Ron's strong arms holding her close, her anchor in the storm.
Finally, the tears began to taper away. Pansy found herself seated on Ron's lap and realized that he must have carried her to his bed, where he now sat holding her and stroking her back gently as he pressed gentle kisses to her hair in between murmured words of comfort. While exhaustion pulled at her mind, she realized that she felt better than she could remember in a long time, perhaps in forever. She felt…clean. The storm that had broken free within her had been vicious and painful but she realized that she had withstood it.
While the sorrow of her parents' abandonment was still there, would likely always be there, she felt something else, as well. All traces of the emotional abuse – of the years of never being good enough – were gone, and she felt like a new witch. She felt like…
…his witch.
She looked up at Ron to see him watching her with cautious eyes that welled with sympathy and sorrow and she knew.
"Can I ask you for something?" she said nervously.
"Anything, Pans."
It was said without a single second of hesitation and Pansy felt a warm wave rush up inside of her to chase away the last of the chills that had wracked her body since her parents had left her standing behind them in the Malfoy's ballroom.
"Will you bond with me?"
His hand stilled on her back, his eyes wide, and she waited for him to say something. Seconds turned into minutes and, when he still had not moved even a muscle, she felt the burn of embarrassment coming over her again.
"Nevermind," she muttered, standing up from his lap and making her way to his bedroom door. Maybe she could just sleep on a sofa for the night. Then she would go…she didn't know where, actually. Maybe Draco or Theo would allow her to live in one of the many abandoned rooms in their manors until she perished from embarrassment. "It was stupid. I'll just…"
She wasn't sure what she was 'just' going to say, because she hadn't gotten more than a step or two away before a hand grabbed her wrist and she was pulled back into Ron's arms. His lips crashed down onto hers as his hands speared into her short black hair, and the feeling of his fingernails lightly scratching against her scalp made her moan even as she gripped his hips and pulled him closer to her. He devoured her mouth for several minutes before he finally broke away and looked down at her panting. His blue eyes were swimming with lust and desire and made her feel more desirable than she had ever been before.
"Yes."
She looked at him for a moment, confused. His kiss had driven all thought from her mind and she couldn't even remember what she had asked him, let alone what he was agreeing to. Then it came back to her.
"Yes?" she asked, hardly daring to hope.
"Yes, Pansy. You are mine, and I am yours. You're all that I never knew I wanted."
A smile spread across her lips at his words as he pulled her back toward the bed. A haze of passion enveloped her and, looking back later, she couldn't have told anyone all of the details of what happened even at wandpoint. Their bodies knew what the other needed, and their minds were focused simply on the feel of being one.
What she did remember with stunning clarity, however, was what had happened at the end. She had felt the familiar tension coiling within her lower belly, growing more and more taut with each thrust of his body against hers. Just before she shattered, she looked deep into his eyes…then bared her neck to him. The low growl that escaped his lips at the sight echoed around him and, before it could fully fade away, his mouth surrounded the delicate gland. The feeling of his teeth sinking into her neck caused Pansy to shatter and she cried out as she felt her magic flowing out of her through the gland. Instint guided her and she pulled him closer to her with a hand on the back of his head before sinking her own teeth into his body. He let out a shout as his climax overtook him. His magic – warm and pure and good – rushed into her mouth along with the coppery tang of blood, and she shuddered around him once more at the feeling of their magics binding together.
As she collapsed beneath him, she relished the feeling of his body weight lightly crushing her into the mattress of his small bed. Then she felt him roll slightly to the side so that he could hold her close while his knot kept them bound together.
"You will always have a home with me, Pansy. Anywhere you go, I go."
She drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.
Pansy wasn't sure what time it was when she awoke. She could just see the early morning light creeping in through the small window in Ron's room. She moved to grab her wand but found herself wrapped so completely in Ron's embrace that she could hardly budge. At some point in the night, they had gotten tangled up in one another's' embrace, and they were pressed together fro head to toe. Her chest was crushed to his, her arms around his neck and his around her back. Her left leg was hitched up high over his hip, her right leg extended straight and gripped between his legs. The smell of him filled her nose and she breathed in deeply, content to lay there for a moment. Then she began to move.
It took her a solid five minutes to untangle herself from him enough to get out of the bed without waking him but she finally stood beside his too-small bed looking down at him. He looked boyishly peaceful, and she grinned when he let out a snore before pulling the pillow into his chest in search of the warmth she had stolen from him when she had left the bed.
Grabbing her wand off of his bedside table, she cast a quick Tempus, not fully surprised to find that it was only half four in the morning. While she had once been a late riser, the war had stolen that ability from her. Now she tended to go to bed late and rise early, and more often than not her dreams were filled with nonsensical visions that caused her to toss and turn.
Knowing that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, she transfigured one of Ron's shirts into a thick, fluffy housecoat and made her way down the precarious stairs. A cup of strong, hot Earl Grey would be just the thing to wipe away the morning fog from her brain. She trudged into the kitchen and, after a thorough search, found a tin with the tea inside. A wave of her wand set a kettle of water to boiling and she steeped the tea inside as she stared out of the window.
She was enthralled with the beauty of the predawn countryside and startled slightly when her wand buzzed, letting her know that the tea had steeped long enough. She poured the tea into a teacup that she had found in one of the cabinets and added only a dash of milk to the glass before taking a sip of the scalding liquid, sighing in contentment.
Her bubble of peaceful isolation was interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs behind her and she turned to see one of the Weasley twins stumble bleary-eyed into the kitchen. Their eyes met and he stood frozen for a minute. Pansy did the same.
This was George. She knew him from Hogwarts, of course – even the Slytherins had held a large amount of reluctant admiration for the hijinks the two got up to. She remembered that Fred had always been the funnier of the two, and George had tended to be the one that would talk them out of trouble when at all possible. She also remembered seeing George sobbing over Fred's body in the Great Hall when she and the other Slytherins had been released from the dungeons after the Dark Lord had fallen. Looking at his dull blue eyes now, she could see the sorrow and grief that still filled them.
"Hello, George," she said softly. "Want a cuppa?"
He looked at her for a moment before nodding hesitantly and moving to the table, and she poured a cup for him, setting it down in front of him at the table before sitting down a few chairs away from her. He looked at her for a moment, an appraising look on his face.
"Parkinson, right?" he finally asked, and his voice sounded hoarse and dull, almost as if he hadn't used it in a while.
She nodded. She debated with herself for a moment before deciding to say what was in her head.
"I'm sorry about Fred," she said softly, noticing the way he flinched away from her when his twin's name came from her mouth. "We Slytherins always quite enjoyed watching the scrapes the two of you got into. I didn't know him, but I have a feeling that the world will be a little bit less bright without him."
He looked at her for a long moment before turning his gaze down to his tea, and she watched a tear slip down his cheek.
"Thank you," he said softly.
"For what?" she asked, genuinely confused.
"For saying his name," George said, looking back up at her to meet her eyes. "No one says his name anymore. I think it's because they don't want to hurt me, but…it just makes me feel like he's slowly disappearing."
Pansy considered his words for a moment. She figured she could understand that. People tended to ignore things that made them uncomfortable, including death. She had never understood that though. Ignoring grief did not make it go away.
"I never had siblings, so I'm no expert," she said slowly, holding her cup between both hands and allowing the heat to warm her hands from the chill of the January morning, "but I think that he'll never really be gone. He's a part of you, after all: and of your parents, and Ron, and Ginny, Charlie, Percy, and Bill. As long as you all are alive, so is he."
He looked at her for a minute before blurting out:
"How the hell did my little brother catch you?"
She laughed, a carefree sound that she hardly recognized as being one of her own.
"He didn't have to work too hard at it, I must admit. I try to keep him on his toes, though."
His eyes flickered to the fresh bruise on her neck and she self-consciously rubbed a finger against the tender spot.
"Make sure you do, little sister," he said with a ghost of the smile that had been so readily available when he'd been at Hogwarts. This time when she laughed, he did too.
Molly Weasley's breath caught at a once-familiar sound. She had been heading down the stairs but came to a stop when the rusty sound of laughter reached her ears. Continuing as quietly down the stairs as she could, she peeked around the corner to peer into the kitchen.
George sat at the table with Pansy, a cup of tea on the table before each of them. She listened as George told Pansy about some of the things he and Fred had been working on before the final battle. Her breath caught at the sound of her son's name, but she saw the smile that twitched George's lips every time he spoke of his brother and she realized just what a disservice they had all done to him by avoiding the subject of Fred's death.
As she watched her son interact with Pansy, she found herself mulling over her words to the witch from the night before.
…you will always have a home with us…
…you will never be without love and a home…
…You are Ron's, so you are mine…
The words had been sincere, but only insomuch as she would respect any choice that Ron made. Now, though…seeing the smile on George's face, a face that had been warped by grief for so long now, she re-evaluated. In spite of her reputation in school, the things that Ron had said about the witch when he had been younger, and her horrible family, Pansy Parkinson was a good girl.
As she swept into the kitchen with a breezily spoken 'Good morning' and began busily preparing breakfast, she decided that Pansy was truly a daughter of hers now. Molly had long been known for adopting others into the fold – first Harry, then Hermione, and even Fleur (although that had been quite begrudgingly done in the beginning). She knew that with the actions of the Ministry, she had gained two more. Blaise and Pansy would make fine matches for Ginny and Ron, and she would have them turned into honorary Weasleys in no time.
When Pansy rose from the table to embarrassedly ask if Molly could teach her some basic cooking spells, Molly was certain her heart would burst.
"Of course, Pansy dear."
Yes. Pansy was a Weasley now. After graduation, Molly would work on making it official as soon as possible.
I was originally planning on heading straight to Hogwarts following the New Year's Eve Ball but I couldn't get Pansy's interaction with her parents out of my head. Then I planned on doing a short little snippet from Pansy's POV but...well, it snowballed from there. Hopefully you all enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.
