I lied.
There is no Charlie. YET.
He was (honestly) going to be in this section, but I was having such fun writing it that it ended up ridiculously long, and I didn't want to throw 8000 word chapters at you. It may have incurred concussion.
I really did not expect to enjoy writing this so much- and thank you so much Tsumomo, ClumsyTonks and..."Guest" as your words make me squee with joy.
So please forgive me. Here's more angst, bonus Luna and iffy name wordplay. (Dragons and Charlie to come. Really this time).
Pansy, her breath coming out in angry puffs like a maddened minotaur, carefully unwound her fingers from Delilah-I've-got-a-death-wish's throat. (Though she made sure to give one last indiscernible warning squeeze).
"Um, good morning, Professor," she said, trying her best to collect herself as her mind and heart raced. He's going to chuck me off the course, I'll be arrested, sent back in shame, oh god just feed me to one of the freaking dragons already… "We were-"
"Just getting to know one another," interrupted Luna, whose dreamy smile almost looked reassuring. She deftly placed her wand behind her ear and gave the Professor a wide grin.
The Professor, who looked far too young to hold the title, just blinked and regarded the group as if they were a new and unknown species. He was terribly tall, and looked like an anthropomorphized stick insect. His hair was curly, but rather colourless, and his face had a rather awkward, kindly look that Pansy tended to associate with boring people who lacked a backbone.
His eyes stayed glued to Luna and (Pansy noted with interest) his ears began to redden.
"Oh, do please call me Rolf," he said extending his hand to each girl in turn, giving Pansy rather a hard look when it came to her. Ah, dealing with confrontation by ignoring it, Pansy noted, obviously a born teacher. Shaking their hands was also a wise move in terms of getting Delilah and Gertrude to stow their wands.
"I just wanted to come and introduce myself, and give you the introductory notes," said Professor "Call me Rolf" Scamander, his eyes lingering on Luna, as he unwisely stepped into the cabin and promptly fell over the multicoloured mess that was Luna's scarf.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, sir!" exclaimed Luna. "That's my Crumple-Horned Snorkack trap."
The large holes and very unscarf-like nature of the woolen monstrosity suddenly made a lot more sense.
"Well, I can vouch for it's efficiency," his said jovially, his face a distinctive ruby colour as the four girls helped him up.
Reaching into his leather, embossed satchel he brought out four 2-inch thick stacks of bound parchment.
"I've divided up all the placements based on your experience and resumes, though I seem to have lost the piece of paper saying who goes where –I'll find it before dinner and give it to you all with supplementary notes. In these introductory packs, you'll find the health and safety forms for each placement as well as the reading lists…"
He droned on for sometime about the four month placements with a chance for extension if the research was fruitful, and how he expected the first month or so just to involve getting to know the animals and schedule- but how everyone should remember that the research was the main aim. Ten thousand words by this point, fifty thousand words by then, submissions to The Journal of Magizoology by this date and the best papers may go into his new book and blah blah blah… Pansy almost nodded off.
By the time dinner arrived Pansy had skimmed through the intro pack. The dragon health and safety section took up eighty more pages than the equus volaticus, and contained such gems as "At all times, please remember to keep you limbs out of the dragon's mouth. If any limbs do become entrapped, do your best to remove them," and "Please note that dragons are highly dangerous, volatile and unpredictable creatures. Even their dung can, in high quantities, be toxic to humans."
Dangerous at both ends, Pansy thought dimly.
The equus volaticus sections did not lift her mood much. She'd already devoured the reading list months ago, and it didn't exactly contain any new information.
Dinner was taken in the carriage south of the sleeping area. Already they'd passed Normandy, and in a few hours they would lose their first group to Beauxbatons in the south. The journey had passed in complete silence in Pansy's cabin as each girl read through the pack and desperately tried to ignore the existence of the others. Pansy was reasonably happy with this situation, but found Luna's occasional off-tuning humming comforting all the same.
As Pansy made her way, alone, to the dining carriage she did a little mental probability. In his long meandering talk, Call Me Rolf mentioned that due to the unpopularity of the dragon placement he had reduced the number going there to just one ("Having taken months to set up the whole thing, I couldn't just remove it- Wynne Warbeck would have had my head! Also the research possibilities are astounding..."), but that he may be circulating a few of the students around in order to give them the best experience. The popularity of the equus volaticus - especially in the case of the Abraxans- meant that there was not actually that many research opportunities to go around. Apparently, they had such trouble last year that some students were reduced to studying the possible economical, ecological and theological effect of Abraxans on local weather patterns. (Spoiler alert: there was none).
Pansy did not especially care about this. She knew enough about the subject to concoct any kind of research topic from the historical influence of equus volaticus, or weigh in on the ongoing metamagical debate on how such large animals (with comparatively small wingspan) even managed to get in the air.
However, if Luna Lovegood had written down "no preference" on her application sheet, then surely it would mean she was the unlucky one to draw the short straw? Pansy's budding warmth for the strange little Ravenclaw rocketed astronomically.
Pansy settled herself down in the corner of the dining carriage, with her well-thumbed copy of "Fanciful Flights: from Fairies to Phoenixes" and reread the page on Snidgets. Eventually the eleven other ex-Hogwarts students emerged from hiding in their carriages and took their places around the long table in the center of the room.
Pansy recognized a few of them. Cormac McLaggen was a surprise, as was a rather nauseous-looking Justin Finch-Fletchley. They were the only boys in a rather oestrogen heavy environment. Delilah and Gertrude appeared soon after, shooting dark looks toward Pansy, and placing themselves in the midst of a gaggle of girls who all looked entranced at the whispered tale of Parkinson's "episode." Pansy sighed, keeping her face impassive. There was no Slytherin in sight, thus any conversation over dinner was bound to be unintellectual, pointless and dull.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" came a wandering voice. The table was quite small for the number seated, though this did not stop everyone attempting to edge as far as possible away from Pansy. Power, Pansy reminded herself, fear. If you wanted to be friends with them, you would be. Fear is preferable. Think Machiavelli.
Pansy shrugged, her shoulders a little too tense to pull off nonchalant.
Luna took a place opposite her and pulled out a copy of The Quibbler. How embarrassing, Pansy thought, I hope Scamander doesn't catch her reading such rubbish… While she flicked through the luminous purple magazine (was she reading it upside-down?), Luna's hand played with a golden charm on the end of her necklace.
"What is that? It's…pretty." Pansy added, curiosity grabbing her out of nowhere. The girl had radishes for earrings, so surely she wasn't wealthy enough to actually decorate herself with money?
Luna extended the galleon attached to a long silver necklace that also held other mismatched charms. A glass butterfly, a paper hippogriff that occasionally flapped it's wings and a selection of Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans caught Pansy's eyes amid a myriad of other strange tidbits.
"It was a gift from a friend. It was enchanted so a group of us could keep in contact, though really only Neville and I use it now," said Luna placing the galleon in Pansy's hand.
The yellow-gold felt warm under her touch, and on the edge was inscribed the words "Good luck. I miss you. NL."
"How sweet," Pansy said, in fact thinking how sickening. Now I'm jealous because Neville Longbottom is sending love notes to people. So this is what rock bottom feels like. "Are you going to tell him about Scamander's little crush?"
"Hmm?" Luna replied, with a complete air of innocence.
"Oh, come on. Luna, he totally want's to Love-you-good, if you know what I mean?"
Luna adopted the expression that usually only crosses the faces of those… talking to Luna. "No, I really don't. Are you possessed by a Splicklewart too?"
Rolf chose that moment to enter the room. He rang a little bell next to the door, which cued the appearance of food on the table in true old-school form. After that, he made his way over to the end where Pansy and Luna were sitting, despite the number of spaces forced open as he passed down the table.
"Hello, Luna. Miss Parkinson. It's nice to see everyone finally getting along- could you possibly pass the broccoli?"
Pansy had always found talking to Professors rather awkward- especially when they were a mere heartbeat older than herself- so decided to just to sit back and watch with interest the interaction between the pair before her. It was also practically impossible to make herself heard over the loud bragging of McClaggen, who proudly proclaimed how his family owned a fleet of racing Winged Horses. If he had been closer down the table, Pansy would have been tempted to brain him with her intro pack. As it was, the distant bragging made her quite nostalgic for the old Slytherin group.
"So, Professor, what are you researching currently?" Luna enquired. In comparison to Scamander, who managed to drop mashed potato into his lap every time Luna looked at him, she was the picture of grace. Obviously knowledge that Scamander had a great big whopping crush on her had made no mark at all. Things with Neville must be going exceedingly well.
"This and that. I'll be travelling round a bit, making sure that everyone's projects are fine. Winged Horses aren't really my thing- despite the next book being about them- so I'll be looking at other beasts more locally. I'm especially interested in trying to spot-"
A loud, ominous roar filled the cabin. It was primeval, guttural, and made the bones in Pansy's limbs freeze. There was something about that sound that made the prospect of escape seem impossible.
"Oh God. Oh God," cried Justin, expressing everyone's fears. "The dragons are out. We're all going to die! I'm going to die!"
"Er, not quite, Mr Finch-Fletchely," interrupted Scamander, just as Gertrude was inhaling in preparation for a bloodcurdling cry. "That was just a snore-" another blistering snarl echoed from the carriage beyond them- "Dragons, and I would have hoped you all read up on this, undergo something called a 'Titan Slumber.' Most large animals have something quite similar, usually they occur after periods of long exertion, metamorphosis or during cold spells. The pair of dragons currently under our watch have been magically 'locked' into this slumber, ready to be awakened in a week's time when we they finally arrive in Romania."
The twelve Magizoology students did not look overly comforted by this, and conversation continued at much more reduced levels than before. Though Pansy did have a silent cackle when at the onset of another gargantuan dragon snore, Justin leapt into the air with a surprised yelp.
"Bloody reptiles," muttered Justin, sounding haunted. "Always the bloody reptiles."
"Miss Parkinson," Scamander suddenly began in an undertone, realizing that other students existed beyond Luna. "This is a rather delicate matter, but Delilah Root came to me about the little…um, spat earlier today that occurred between you both. She was asking whether she could change rooms, but seeing as she and Miss Grundle will be arriving in Avignon in a few hours I didn't think there was much point. However, she was very keen for me to ensure that you will not… well, in her words, 'make an attempt on her life.'"
Pansy tried to give him her sweetest smile.
"I'll do my best." But no promises. "Does this mean you've worked out who's going where, Professor?" Pansy asked, her body feeling electrified once the realization hit.
"Of course, silly me!" exclaimed Scamander, pulling another wad of papers out of his satchel- which, physically speaking, must have been far too small to hold so much paper work without magical assistance. "I had written it down on a post-it that I left in my left sock. If you would pass these packs around- they're all named."
With wild eyes Pansy past down parchment after parchment bearing the names of McClaggen and Dahl and Cantankerous, until finally her own lay in her fingertips.
Pansy Parkinson, it read in a cuttingly clear hand, Romania.
Amid the laughter and newfound discussion topic, Pansy found it quite easy to skulk out unnoticed. Her feet thumped heavily against the floor and her limbs seemed unable to stay still. It was a wonder that she made it to the correct compartment. She shoved herself inside, and stumbled a simple locking charm on the door.
I will not cry, she told her angry reflection. I will not cry.
Her ugly, bunched up face seemed to have other ideas, but she kept the tears from flowing through sheer force of will. Yet she couldn't stop her body gulping in hot angry shudders.
I hate them. I hate them. I hate them, her mind screamed. They can sit around with their cushy horse placements, while I… Oh for Merlin's sake, what had she put herself in for? Maybe this was a grand conspiracy to try and rid the world of Slytherins by throwing them in all the dangerous, unwanted jobs. Maybe she deserved this- for running from the battle and not picking sides. This is what happens when you're tactically neutral. This is what happens when you fall for a boy who makes bad decisions, when you'd rather be friendless than weak, when they class you as ambitious and evil from the age of eleven and no matter what you do you can never change their minds.
Evil, rotten Slytherins who strangle people on trains. Well done, Pansy, for fighting that stereotype.
A small sound echoed behind her that sounded a little like "alohamora."
Perfect, an audience.
Pansy sniffed and gave Luna a ferocious glare as she entered the compartment. "What?"
"I just came to see if you were okay," said Luna calmly, ignoring the venom in Pansy's tone as she sat down beside her. "I know it's very upsetting to not get what you want. But I think the dragon placement will be really fascinating- Rolf was saying that he was actually expecting that placement to come up with the best pieces of research. Apparently the reserve in Romania makes some extraordinary findings, and it's not an area that many go in to-"
"There's a reason for that," Pansy spluttered. "It's because dragons are big, killer monsters that breath fire and wreak havoc. And, forgive me for not being as cavalier as one of Potter's little cronies, but I like my head. I want it to stay where it is. My life may be awful, but it doesn't mean I'm dying for the alternative. My skin has enough problems without burns and bite marks being added to it. Surprisingly, I did not find Hagrid's attempts to kill us during school hours inspiring and entertaining, and he is not the reason I am here. I am here because I have a freakish obsession for unicorns- and if you tell anyone you caught me upset I will kill you, Luna Lovegood, do you understand?"
Luna reached out and patted Pansy's arm comfortingly. Pansy was so surprised she forgot to scream insults at Luna for daring to touch her.
"Scamander also said, once you left, that your resume was too good to have you be sent off to the Abraxan or Granian reserves. It would simply provide you with the same experience."
"Why are you being so nice to me?" Pansy asked, her curiosity strangely outweighing her hatred. "I was never nice to you in school. I never spoke to you. Your friends hate me and my friends- and we despise you lot in return. My-" Yes, Pansy, you're what? Ex-boyfriend? Unrequited love? Cowardly leader? "Draco locked you in his house for months. Starved you. Tortured you, probably- he doesn't like talking about it. Some of the reasons his father is incarcerated are due to the crimes he committed against you."
Luna shrugged. "You were never not nice to me. Also, I don't think Harry hates anyone anymore, and Draco wasn't all that bad to me. Mostly he ignored the fact he had prisoners in the basement. Understandable, I suppose. And I know what it's like to be… not the same as everyone else. It doesn't bother me, but sometimes it doesn't feel especially nice. Any way, I hope you feel better about the situation. If you want to talk, you can. If not… I have some homemade macaroons you can have?"
"…I'll go for the macaroon, please," said Pansy, wiping her eyes and taking a deep breath. Further emotional bonding with Looney Lovegood would be humiliating. "So which did you get? France or Greece?"
"Greece," replied Luna, producing violet-coloured macaroons seemingly out of nowhere.
"I hate you quite a lot right now," Pansy said, half-lying.
"That's okay. You're not my favourite person either."