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May 18, 1993

Pansy dropped her satchel to the right as she slid into her spot beside Potter. She was in yet another Astronomy class, and strangely enough, she didn't dislike it nearly as much as she previously had. Now, she wouldn't say that was all thanks to Potter, no, he would get quite full of himself if she did and that was the last thing she wanted; Potter, if he acted like Draco, would grow to be beyond unbearable.

"You look tired," Potter observed, his head rested atop one hand as the elbow thereof sat atop the table. "How's it going?"

She shrugged. "As you said, I'm tired. You know, that might very well be the first time you've ever asked me how I'm doing, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that's the first time you've observed the fact that I'm tired."

"We're friends by now, or so I'd like to think we are," Harry pointed out as their Professor moved away from the table opposite of them and back to her desk; Pansy still disliked the bitch. She was stupid for making them switch even if she had come to think of Potter as a normal-enough bloke.

"Acquaintances," Pansy corrected with one finger raised as she made her point.

"Acquaintances?" Harry asked as he furrowed his brows and a confused, and cut— strange expression appeared on his face. "Why not friends?"

"If we were friends, you'd know my middle name, my favourite colour, the many shops that I prefer to take my business too, and finally, you would have visited my ancestral home once at the very least. Come now, Potter. Surely you've observed some modicum of your history, haven't you?" Pansy arched one of her perfect brows as her hands folded themselves neatly in her lap.

He was Harry Potter. With that last name and the title he was afforded since he had vanquished the Dark Lord, he should know full well about Pureblood traditions even if his mum had soiled that for him. She wouldn't say that, she didn't want to drive him away or make him an enemy when a partnership could take that place.

"Nah, not really. I've never learned about that sort of thing from Ron and Hermione only really talks about how ba… backwards, the wizarding world is. I don't know enough to form my own opinion about everything, so I won't. All I know is Malfoy's dad is a corrupt arsehole, and if the Ministry is like him, only then will I agree with her," Harry trailed off, coughed awkwardly and rubbed at the back of his neck as he looked at her with a near wince. "Sorry for going on a bit of a rampage — if you're not against it, I really would like to learn about the wizarding world."

Pansy huffed and blew a few errant strands of hair out of her face. "I suppose I could find it within myself to enlighten you so long as you're a good student."

Harry grinned as she said that, and try as she might to avoid doing the same, she couldn't stop herself from allowing him a small smile. He looked very pleased, and in response, she narrowed her eyes even as that smile grew ever-so-slightly wider.

"When could we talk about all of that, then? I don't think Professor Sinistra would be happy if we spent her whole class talking about it, and I'm sure you don't want to fail this class any more than I do even if it is pretty boring," Harry gestured to the star chart on the large, shared desk before them with a disinterested look on his face.

Pansy agreed with him. Astronomy was beautiful so long as one observed the night sky and the beauty therein, but when you began to study it as much as they had, that natural beauty was replaced with forced focus the likes of which Pansy wasn't all that fond of. In truth, she despised most of the classes at Hogwarts; Professor Snape, thankfully, aided all of the Slytherins when it came to potions. It wasn't out of any sort of altruism either, but the fact that he refused to have any member of his house fail or do badly in his class.

"We can make time before the end of the school year," Pansy said quietly, her tone dropping subconsciously.

"What?" Harry asked as he leaned closer to her, and when he did just that, she felt her cheeks heat up. Not only that, but she could also feel the gaze of a few of their peers on them. It likely looked intimate, that being how close they were.

Pansy moved back and away from Harry, and then she spoke again. "We can meet for the project in a few days, in the evening — the library should be fine."

She thought that might confuse him, the sudden change of topic, but Harry grinned and nodded. He wasn't quite as dull as most people said he was, and not for the first time she thought that Draco might just be able to learn a thing or two from the Potter boy. If he were even half as polite as Potter, he would have made for the perfect husband. Instead, he wasn't even a tenth as nice as him and the jealousy and other negative emotions ran deeply in him; the Carrow twins might have spoken with her just early on enough in her life for her to avoid making a mistake with him.

I'll reward the pair of them, I suppose. It isn't as if I haven't bought them chocolates and ice cream already.

"We should finish this assignment lest we have to take it outside of class," Pansy finally said as she righted herself in her seat and refocused on the table before them, where their untouched assignment still lay.

Harry nodded at her, pulled himself closer to the table, and as easily as that, he didn't press the topic. Again, she wished Draco could be more like him, not that she would ever tell either boy that. Unlike Draco, he treated her as an equal, mayhaps with even more respect than an equal… her kindness and the few smiles he had managed to steal from her could be explained away by his manners.

She sighed and shook her head as a myriad of thoughts ran through it. He was a very nice, polite and outgoing boy. It made her feel strange, and that alone was infuriatin—

"Do you need to share my book?" Harry asked, breaking her away from her internal struggles. "I, uh, see that you didn't take yours out. I just thought I'd ask if you wanted to share mine with me."

Internally, she screamed.


June 1, 1993

"You seem… off today, Potter," Pansy said as she fought to make sure there was no worry in her tone. "Is everything fine, or was there a problem with Weasley or Granger?" she asked as she looked towards the pair, for they too looked strange, weird or some mixture of emotions that made them look as if they too weren't quite themselves.

"Buckbeak," Harry said, and that was all he said.

Pansy blinked at him. If the word was meant to mean something, it went far and away from her. She tried very hard to recall what that meant if anything, and after nearly a minute of silence, her mind came up empty; Buckbeak had no meaning to her.

"Buckbeack?" she opted to ask back at him. Not only did she do that, but she even went so far as to lean towards him. He, just like any other wizard, should be happy that it was she who opted to move closer to him.

He turned to look at her, and for the first time since they had been 'friends' in his words or 'acquaintances' in hers, she saw a spark of anger and dislike. It was the very same look he used to send her months ago and years ago when they were nought but rivals; rivals didn't fit, she was more like his assistant-rival on account of Draco's seeming crush on him, but it was close enough.

"Buckbeack the Hippogriff — you remember Hagrid's class, don't you? Malfoy stormed up to him, demanded as he always did, and Buckbeak reacted how his nature encouraged him," Harry looked away from her with a whip of his head to the side, and even still, she could see the loathing he wore. "Because of that, Buckbeack might be executed. There's nothing we can do; Hermione, Ron, Hagrid or me. Not even Dumbledore can stop them."

"Malfoy's father was very cross with th— Hagrid and the… Buckbeak. I'm certain you know this well enough, but once Draco's father sets his mind on something, he'll stop only once it's accomplished regardless of the bribery cost," Pansy tentatively reached out one hand under the table until it came into contact with Harry's knee, whereupon doing so, she patted it awkwardly.

Harry moved himself away from her touch, and the moment that he did, she frowned. She had reached out as a 'friend', and so who was he to move away from her after she had done so? She nearly opened her mouth to say as much, but only barely, she reigned herself in. It wouldn't do to make him too angry with her even if the boy was deserving of her ire. She would be the better person and she wouldn't endanger the bond that had tentatively formed between them.

That didn't mean she would reach out to him again. If he moved away from her, fine, he could do as his boyish mind wished. If he ever sought solace in her again, it would be him that comes crawling to her from thenceforth. In fact, unless he helped, she would remain seated and as the picture of Pureblood perfection throughout the duration of the class. There was no way she would do the lion's share of the work on their project, not when the very saying was meant to encourage the Gryffindors; it was a Slytherin that had coined that very phrase and for that very reason!

Lost in her thoughts was how the class eventually went by. Pansy didn't do much, if anything, in regard to their final assignment and the same could be said of Harry. Neither teen did so much as pick up a quill; Harry sulked and plotted, the latter was apparent to her, and Pansy… she spent the time to relax.

She definitely wasn't watching him the entire class.

"Your project isn't finished."

Pansy blinked at the sudden voice and looked up from herself, and when she did, she saw the face of the bitch Professor that had forced their swap months ago; Professor Sinistra. "No, we haven't finished it, Professor," Pansy responded, her contempt barely concealed.

The older woman's face twitched. "You have until the Seventh of June to finish it, and since you chose not to utilise my class, I'll be expecting a masterfully made wonder from the pair of you. Am I understood, Miss Parkinson, Mister Potter?"

The pair nodded, and as soon as they did, they left the Astronomy Tower. Most of the other students were a good ways ahead of them, and as such, Pansy dropped back so that she might share words with the seemingly-sad Potter. It didn't make sense that he and the other two Gryffindor friends of his would be so upset over a being that wasn't all that intelligent in the first place.

"Since you're not acting yourself, I will do the project by myself. You can repay me later," Pansy grabbed the portion of the work that he had taken before he could say anything in response, and after doing so, she hastened herself away from him.

Harry called after her as she did. It was the first time he had seemed himself, but she was quick, quicker than he was, and she made it away from him before he could so much as turn the same corner she had done. Mayhaps there was a portion of her that felt bad for him, mayhaps that same portion of her was why she had opted to do the project by herself too. She wouldn't say that to him though, and she wouldn't have her family work against Malfoy's either; as such, Pansy would do all that she could to keep both boys pleased.

She wasn't stupid, she knew that wouldn't work forever… it was simply the best she could manage.


June 7, 1993

Harry owes me.

Pansy thought that smugly to herself as she strolled aimlessly through the halls of Hogwarts. It wasn't simply for her company or advice this time around either, but because she had done the entirety of the project by herself, and in doing so, she had earned them the highest possible mark on it.

The project, that of a star chart with labels, constellations and even an effect that would see it animated, was the greatest of their class. Malfoy had been jealous, Granger had been surprisingly tame and finally, all of the others that so often sought to outdo her were shown their own weaknesses and inadequacies. Of course, that only lasted for one night before that project was forgotten and in its place, rumours and talk of a certain professor replaced it.

Professor Lupin, the Defence against the Dark Arts Professor for the year, was a werewolf. The man had been the best thus far, though that wasn't saying much when she thought back about the two before him; still, she supposed for a werewolf, the man was incredibly kind and polite, and finally, very knowledgeable. There were many wizards that didn't seem to know half of what he did, and that was… well, very surprising.

Pansy shook her head sorrowfully, though more so for her grade rather than the man. It wasn't likely that their next Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor would be half as good as he had been, and as such, her education in that particular field would continue to be subpar when compared to those who had private tutors or even against some who didn't. Perhaps she'd demand that her mother and father hire her a tutor much the same as Draco and Daphne had gotten. That would be fair and it would see her education continue to be notable.

"Miss Parkinson," said a familiar voice as soon as she turned a corner and nearly ran into that very same person; she hadn't been watching where she was going, most of the time, those that saw her would make way, as they should.

She looked up. "Professor Lupin," she greeted with a polite dip of her head. "I was terribly sorry when I heard that you'll no longer be able to be our Professor… I trust you've another opportunity or job to tend to?"

The man smiled politely at her. "I'll be perfectly fine, and thank you. I'll always think of Hogwarts fondly, and you as a student were amongst the best and most respectable, especially after word of my… condition was made public."

Malfoy more than likely made a remark, Pansy thought instantly before she realised she had called him Malfoy. Potter's rubbing off on me, stupid boy.

"Those who speak the loudest generally have the least to say," Pansy said, repeating words that her father had once told her when she had screamed at him angrily in her youth. They were certainly wise and true words too, for it summed up Crabbe, Goyle and even sometimes, Draco himself.

The Professor laughed and nodded a fair few times. "Truer words are seldom said," he looked as if there was more to say too, but his eyes sought out something over her shoulder and then he bowed his head to her. "I'll have to take my leave — I had forgotten a few things in my office and the Headmaster was kind enough to let me retrieve them. I wish you well, Miss Parkinson."

"And you as well, Professor," Pansy said, the title the only thing she could think to call the man and he was kind enough not to correct her as he dipped his head and finally took his leave, his feet carrying him in the direction of Dumbledore's office.

When he was nearly ten or so feet away, Pansy chose that moment to turn around and look at just who had seemed to scare him away. She shouldn't have been too surprised at who she saw, but she was surprised to see that he looked a bit more like himself; there had been a rumour that he had visited the hospital wing only yesterday. People had said he had nearly been kissed by a Dementor, and had that been true, he wouldn't have appeared nearly as normal as he currently did.

"Pansy," Harry greeted softly and politely. "Would you, uh… would you care to join me on my way to the Great Hall? I think I'd fancy a light snack."

She blinked a few times, thought about making a comment about their project, and finally, shrugged. "I suppose I can spare you a half an hour or so," she said to him as she held out one arm and raised a brow at him as he continued to stand in place. "Are you going to continue to stand there like some dolt, or are you going to escort me? I don't have all day, contrary to what you might think."

Harry snorted, he may have even chuckled, and then he made his way over to her. "My apologies for keeping you waiting, my lady."

Pansy nodded. "Good boy. Granger or some other witch seems to have you trained fairly well, for a Gryffindor."

"I'll let you have that one since you got us the highest mark in the class," Harry said as he eyed her out of the corner of his eye, the pair finally moving, albeit slowly, towards the Great Hall. "So… I was thinking, if you were okay with it, that we could write to one another over the summer. Would you be alright with that, or am I barmy?"

"You're a little barmy," Pansy said with a nod as if she were stating the obvious. When she saw Harry's face fall at her words, perhaps thinking she had meant them seriously and that she was rejecting his offer, she spoke again and quickly; she didn't quite enjoy making him frown or sad, well, not nearly as much as she had used to enjoy it. "I suppose I'll allow you to write to me over the summer, and if you're good, I'll return a few letters… is that fine?"

Why am I asking for his permission? Stupid, super stupid.

Harry nodded, and she swore his cheeks looked a bit red. "That sounds good."

There was an awkward silence that fell between the pair as they continued in silence for a few minutes, but eventually, that was broken with a cough from him and a silly, vaguely-smug look. If he had attempted to mirror hers, he was still very far from being able to do as she did.

"I don't suppose that we're finally friends now, are we?" he asked.

"If you have to ask, is it even worth answering?" Pansy asked in turn.

"Fair point, my friend, fair point," Harry said as they turned the final corner, and in doing so, they slowly moved away from one another; the last thing either needed were their friends bugging them about holding… arms, with one another. "I suppose I'll hear from you over the summer, yeah?"

"Yes. I'll expect you to write me first, like a proper gentleman," Pansy responded as her nose raised itself in the air.

"I can do that," Harry said seriously before he smiled at her, looked away, and smiled again. "See you around, Pansy."

When she spoke, her voice was far softer and weaker than she had wanted it to be. She hated that she didn't hate him nearly as much as she had used to, but Morgana, there was so little to hate once he had spent as much time around her as he had.

"See you around, Harry."

He was going to be troublesome for her. She just knew it.


July 30, 1993

"Pansy, darling," called her mother loudly, the older woman's voice echoing throughout the halls until it reached Pansy's room.

Even if I respond to her, she'll remain quiet until I make my way over to her and father… if father's even here in the first place, Pansy thought with a huff as she lept off of her bed, slid on her slippers and began to make her way towards the parlour room, where her mother was likely waiting for her.

It didn't take more than a minute or two for her to reach the aforementioned room, and when she did, her mother was exactly where Pansy had thought she would be; on a couch, a glass of wine in her right hand and in her left… a letter. Pansy's heart began to beat slightly faster as the prospects of who would be writing to her quickly dwindled; Malfoy would simply visit, as would the vast majority of her family and friends.

"Who is it from, mum?" Pansy asked after she swallowed and composed herself as a lady would.

"Please, darling, you don't fool me," her mother said before she casually floated the letter over to Pansy. "Harry Potter — I remember hearing about him a few times sans the company of your father. You can thank your cousins too, they mentioned that the two of you seemed to have formed quite the friendship this past year of Hogwarts… mayhaps we'll have him writing in regards to courtship soon enough."

"Mum," Pansy said sternly and with narrowed eyes. "I think you've had a glass too many. Potter's an acquaintance, nothing more."

"I'm sure," was her mother's simple response.

"He is," Pansy said with finality as she grabbed the letter and stuffed it forcefully into her pockets.

Pansy's mother laughed. "I said I believe you, darling. There's no need to act quite so defensive — now go on, I won't keep you. Read the letter that some boy wrote to you who certainly doesn't have feelings for you. I'll be here when you want to come back and discuss what he wrote and how best to reply to him."

With a huff, Pansy turned on her heels and did just that. She made her way back to her room, she closed the door loudly, and finally, when she was certain that her mother hadn't followed after her, she ripped the letter open and immediately grabbed the parchment that fell out.

'Dear Pansy,

I'm really pants at writing letters. That's what Hermione and Ron tell me, but I promised, and so here's the first letter. You can probably tell already, but I wrote a few before this but didn't send them. Sorry if this is so much later than you had thought, I really just wasn't sure what to write to you, I mean, who would have thought, right?

Anyways, I thought I'd tell you that everything over with me is good and that I'm seriously still thankful for last year. If it wasn't for you, I know that my Astronomy grade would have been lower by at least one mark, and so if there's anything I can do for you, please, let me know. You're a great friend to have, and Merlin, let me tell you, I never had to work so hard to have a friend. Then again, most of my friends don't hold my arms when we walk.

Right. We still have to go over this Pureblood stuff. I don't know but a thing or two and if there's anybody that could teach me, it's you. I guess I've got a bit distracted, so before this letter goes on too long, let me ask about you.

How are you? How's everything at home? Do you and your family usually do anything over the summer? Would you want to maybe go to Diagon Alley or something, if you can?

Your friend,

Harry'

Pansy swallowed as she set the letter down and, once again, looked at her door. She was certain that her mother had to be close by, there was no way the woman wouldn't want to quiz her about the letter. It wasn't often that anybody, least of all Harry Potter, wrote to her, after all. But, Pansy needed time to think about everything he had written to her before she called her mum in.

As was usual of Potter, he had seemed nervous and awkward even in his writing. It had to be because of her beauty, but she didn't really think that he liked her like that. She was at fault on account of the bullying earlier on, but that didn't need to be brought up again.

He had manners too, that was certain. No other boy would have thanked her again, and least of all make an offer to do whatsoever she wanted in return for a good grade. It made her feel strange and fuzzy, and beyond that, when he had called her a 'great friend', a mixture of annoyance, smugness and bliss; she had very quickly become one of his greatest friends, for it was known to nearly everybody at Hogwarts that he didn't have very many of those — he had even requested, again, to learn about the old ways. Those were traditions that his family would have raised him with had they not been killed… but to ask her to teach him instead of Dumbledore or one of his friends.

She was exceedingly happy for the chance and for the trust that meant he had in her after such a short amount of time. Her resolve was stronger now than ever before in ensuring their friendship, strange as it was, continued without an issue.

I suppose I should write my response to him immediately. It wouldn't do if he thought I was nervous, and I shouldn't leave him waiting lest he loses his nerves.

Pansy nodded once to herself and very quickly made her way over to her desk, where she sat down, pulled out her favourite quill and an inkwell, and finally, began to write her response upon a wonderful piece of parchment.

'Dear Harry,

As I stated previously, you're very welcome for the assistance and end result of our time together in Astronomy. There's nothing that I would ask of you, but should you think of something, I'll not stop you from saying your thanks howsoever you'd like to. Now, to answer your questions;

Yes, I'll gladly teach you about the traditionalist values and traditions that have been within our culture for centuries, nothing would please me more. As for your other questions, I'm splendid, my life at home is beyond perfect, my family and I typically visit a villa in France over the summer, and yes, if you'd be willing, I would very much enjoy a trip to Diagon Alley with you.

I hope this letter finds you in good health and in a better mood, I hope you too, are feeling well and that your life at the present is good.

Your friend,

Pansy'

Immediately after she finished, Pansy scanned it for any imperfections. It could be one drop of ink, one smudged letter or even a spelling error; if any was present to any degree, she would rewrite the letter onto another piece of parchment. Thankfully, that wasn't to be, for she didn't mess up and as a result, folded that very parchment up and sealed it before her nosy mother could try and read it.

That wasn't to say she wouldn't discuss the letter or Harry's with her mother. She might even let her read his letter so she could pick her mother's mind on what exactly was going through his; her mother had far more experience with wizards than she did, after all…

Yes, that was exactly what she'd… do…

Why am I getting so excited and involved with him? I told the Carrows that I would make friends outside of Slytherin, and I've done that. I said that I wouldn't go all in on Draco, and I've done that.

Pansy shook her head as the smarter, more refined version of her came free. Everything with Potter was moving too quickly. She was a lady, one that had much expected of her. It wouldn't do if she let herself get caught up in a friendship that grew too quickly and too public with Harry Potter of all people.

Then again, he was so very kind, polite… handsome.

Her head fell to her desk, and she groaned. Not for the first time in her life, Pansy wished everything could be far, far easier than it was.


August 24, 1993

Pansy looked in the mirror and smiled at the reflection she saw. Her hair was done up perfectly, and the necklace she had chosen — with the help of her mother — matched the dress she wore. Her bracelets acted to highlight the rest of her outfit, and the heels that she wore were nought but the cherry on top; she looked every bit a princess.

"You'll make him lose his train of thought, my darling," her mother said from behind her, the older woman's visage happy and eager. "If he's able to speak, I'll guarantee the first words that come flowing out of his mouth will be in regards to your beauty… if his letter is anything to go by, I dare say my former statement will be what truly happens."

"Do you truly think so, mum?" Pansy asked.

"Of course, my darling girl. No little wizard's going to be able to look at you and think clearly. You're my daughter — my very beautiful, stunning daughter. I dare say no boy will ever truly be deserving of you," her mother finished by strolling forward and kissing Pansy's forehead.

At the kiss, Pansy looked up at her mother and smiled. "Thank you, mum… you don't think this is fast do you? Or possibly foolish? Harry Pott—"

Pansy wasn't able to finish her sentence before her mother interrupted her.

"Harry Potter would be a wonderful boy to date even if the end result isn't marriage," the older woman said with a wave of her hand. "And no, I don't think is fast, not remotely. You're going as friends, and when I was your age, I had gone to nearly fifty lunches with boys your age that were for nought but connections and friendship. Don't overthink everything, Pansy. There's no need to ruin it for yourself."

"What about the Malfoys? If they find out that I've gone to lunch with Potter, they'll be quite cross with our family," Pansy pointed out; she knew that Draco's jealousy was vicious and that if he wished it, his father would have some sort of revenge against her family.

Her mum made a motion with her hand and tutted at her. "We work with them out of convenience, not because they're our only options — this isn't a marriage ceremony, it's not even a date. Perhaps this could act as a wake-up call for the little Malfoy brat. If he wants you, he'll have to put in the work to get you. Now, before you say any more silliness, get going. I doubt Harry Potter would be happy if you were thirty minutes late and all because you were too nervous about going to see him."

Pansy turned to look at her mum, and when she did, she hugged the older woman. They might argue from time to time, it could even be heated on occasion, but there was no other person in the world that reassured her half as well as her mum.

"Thank you, mum," Pansy said quietly into her mum's chest.

"You're welcome, darling. Good luck on your date, and do try and avoid scaring him off. I'd like you to be happy before I'm old, grey and wrinkled. You can manage that for me, can't you?"

At her mother's parting question, Pansy simply giggled; she couldn't always be the good girl that her mother wanted her to be. There wouldn't be any fun in that sort of life.


Pansy appeared in a large, wide-open room and as soon as she did, she took her leave from it. There was no need to stay and loiter, for as it was, she was already nearly ten minutes late from the time she and Harry had agreed upon their lunch… meeting. It wasn't a date either, they had both been clear about that.

Quickly, and with her hands hiking up her dress just enough so that she could jog, she made her way towards the very expensive restaurant that he had insisted he bring her to. She wouldn't complain, she wasn't stupid. It took her all of one minute at such a fast pace to reach it too, and as soon as she made it around to the front of the building, she spotted him; he was in a very new-looking suit, his hair… his hair was done rather than wild-looking and Morgana, he looked handsome.

She had never seen him so clean up and professional-looking. It was a stark contrast to his typical Hogsmeade clothing, and his hair was far and away from how it usually looked. Pansy swallowed, let her dress fall back to how it should be, rubbed at her neck and finally, after a brave encouragement to herself, she moved towards him. It didn't take more than a few seconds before his eyes found hers, and as soon as that happened, she smiled politely, and at the same time, arrogantly, at him.

Her beauty was known, and when he swallowed visibly and remained rooted to where he had been standing for a few seconds before he made his way — with a stumble on a brick — towards her, she realised most infuriatingly, that her mum had been exactly right. When they were only a few feet apart, a distance that was appropriate to speak, he opened his mouth and simply sputtered at her in a most undignified way.

Pansy had thought she would handle that well, easily even, but she couldn't. In response to Harry's nervous sputtering and how he looked at her, she giggled. When she tried to stop herself from giggling with one hand raised to her mouth, she simply made it worse; she snorted.

She, Pansy Parkinson, had found it so funny that she giggle-snorted, and Harry all the while, was still sputtering. Any onlookers — and there were many — had to think that the two teens were the most stupid, awkward couple that they had ever seen. It would certainly have been a thought that raced through her mind.

Eventually, thankfully, that came to an end. Naturally, Pansy was the one that righted herself first.

"You look very handsome today, Potter," she said politely and with a curtsey as the two moved closer to the restaurant.

Harry blinked a few times and swallowed, she swore she could see his heart beating through his chest, but still, he was finally able to get words out to her. If he hadn't, she was certain that she would have burst into another fit of inappropriate giggles. "You…you're — You look very pretty," he eventually got out.

At that, Pansy smiled and gave him a curtsey. "Thank you," she said as she held her arm out and nodded towards the entrance of the restaurant. "I believe we're ready. Well, unless you'd like to look at me some more before we enter."

He shook his head, but then he shook his head again. "No, I mean, it'd be gra—" he stopped, shook his head, and took in a breath. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"Only slightly. You're cu— amusing," Pansy said, catching herself before she truly said something that would be unbecoming and possibly even friendship-ruining.

"I'll get you back. But yeah, let's go in," Harry took her arm and moved towards the door, whereupon reaching it, he opened it for her and allowed her to go in first. "I hope you don't mind, I put in the appetizers. I figured if you were running a bit late it would be best to put them in before any crowds come about."

Pansy shrugged. "That was smart."

She made it over to the table and just about pulled out her own chair when he moved past her and did just that. To say that she was surprised was an understatement… it nearly felt as if he was courting her with that one action alone.

Morgana, Pansy cursed. Why did I have to think about that?

Her cheeks went red, and as he pushed her seat in with the utmost care, she couldn't help but think he truly was attempting, in his own weird way, to court her. They were much too young and their friendship much too new, but still, this felt as if it went beyond what friends did for one another.

Pansy shook her head. Her mother was right, she was overthinking it again. If they were friends, they were friends, and if they would ever become something more, that would be in the future. There wasn't any reason for Pansy to ruin their friendship, brittle as it could sometimes be.

Instead, she would enjoy the time they were given together and tease him in a more friendly manner. It wasn't as if he expected anything from her as so many others in her life often did… with him, she could be Pansy.

She would never tell him, but that was the greatest gift he could ever give her.


August 24, 1993

"You're zoning out again, Darling… I suppose you're thinking back about that date with Harry Potter, aren't you?"

Pansy's eyes went wide on account of her father only being a dozen or so feet away, and so she shook her head rapidly, her hair whipping all about as she did so. "Mum!" she whisper-yelled for emphasis.

The older woman grinned and poked Pansy in the side. "Please. Your father doesn't even hear what we're discussing, not with Lucius and the Minister only a few feet from him," her mum scooched her seat ever so slightly closer to Pansy. "You've been very strange whensoever I bring that boy up too. I almost feel as if there's something my favourite, beautiful and most precious daughter isn't telling me."

Pansy raised her nose and shook her head. "I told you everything."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying."

"You are. I raised you and birthed you, do you really think I can't tell when you're lying to me?" her mother pressed a hand against her heart and made a hurt expression. "My own daughter, my own flesh and blood, she doesn't trust me. Mayhaps I truly am old, and soon, I'll be go—"

"Fine. I may have kissed Harry on the cheek when it came time for us to leave one another, but I can assure you, mother, that it was purely platonic. I've not been distracted by thinking about him either, I've just been thinking about the upcoming year and what father said about it on account of his connections with the foreign relations portion of the Ministry — if other schools from other countries are joining us for something important, I'd very much like to know just what they are before the school year starts," Pansy finished speaking and as soon as she did, she took a large, deep breath.

Her mother, when she looked over at the older woman after having looked away during that breath, simply hummed in response. Pansy meant what she said, she was concerned about the reason other schools would visit and the impacts thereof, but there was, perhaps, a portion of her that was going through some internal strife on account of the kiss she had left on Harry's right cheek. He had been the epitome of a gentleman, though, and as such, as her mother had taught her, she had rewarded his behaviour with a token of her affection. It was only polite, especially after he had spent nearly three-hundred Galleons on them for the meal, desserts, wine and ice cream.

"You don't believe me, do you, mum?" Pansy finally asked as she began to tap on the arms of the chair she was seated in.

Pansy's mum shook her head from side to side. "Not in the slightest, my lovely, but I won't press the matter any more than I already have."

At that, Pansy narrowed her eyes. "Why?" she all but demanded to know.

"If I press the matter, you'll be less likely to tell me anything more that develops between you and Mister Potter. I'm aware that you've begun teaching him about our ways, the true and proper ways that they are, and I wouldn't want to risk that any more than I'd wish to risk the bond that's formed between you," Pansy's mum smiled at her, and it was genuine and happy. "I haven't seen you as relaxed and eager since the first time you went to Hogwarts. I'm happy for you, my sweet girl, and I wouldn't ever wish to ruin that despite all of my teasing."

"Well, you can thank the Carrow twins, they told me not to spend too much time with Draco… besides, I wanted to be a bit more independent. It's like you said, maybe this will make Draco jealous or some other suitor down the road. I'm just future-proofing and making some new experiences of my own, as you said I should," Pansy said balefully, and as she looked towards the nearby gathering crowd.

The Quidditch match between Ireland and… and some other country that wasn't as important would soon begin. She wasn't a fan of Quidditch, she thought the sport was dreadfully boring and that the witches who allowed their wizards to risk their lives over it were stupid beyond belief. If she ever ended up with Harry or any other wizard, she would disallow them from risking their lives over some short, foolish game.

"Ah, and here we are speaking about the boy — mayhaps you're soulmates," Pansy's mother said, her eyes flicking off in the direction of Pansy's father, Lucius and the Minister only to land back on Pansy. "Would you like me to wave him over, or should I pretend that I haven't seen him until you introduce me?"

Pansy nearly narrowed her eyes on account of how eager her mother seemed to meet Harry properly. It would be embarrassing since the Malfoys were right nearby, and by Morgana, Pansy wanted to avoid any real, direct conflict… she could wait too. The Malfoys weren't seated nearly as close to the Minister as her family was, and the spots behind them had been reserved for nobody, or so it seemed.

"No, mum. I'll wait and see if Ha— Potter notices me, and if he does, I'll introduce you after he's come over and greets me," Pansy swallowed as a weird, anxious feeling filled her stomach and made her chest tighten; she squashed that feeling immediately, sat more upright in her chair and folded her hands as was polite; finally, she waited.

"I'm so excited," Pansy's mum bit out as she clapped her hands a few times in excitement.

One look from Pansy and the older woman pouted, huffed, and finally, returned to a semblance of how a Lady of any house should act. For the many Mudbloods and Half-Bloods that were watching, the older woman sat straight, kept her legs close together, raised her nose, folded her hands and put on a look that showcased not only her beauty but also her superiority.

Pansy had learned how to do exactly that from watching her mother with others, and it was very enjoyable, and helpful.

One… two… three… four…

"Pansy!" Harry called as the boy drew closer with an army of Weasleys — improper Purebloods — at his back. "Hey, Pansy," he finally said when he was only a few feet away from her, his words lame-sounding and a nervous lilt to his voice.

"Potter," Pansy greeted back warmly as she turned to look at him with a cocked head and two raised eyebrows. "Are you seated alongside the Minister too?"

He nodded incessantly. "I am."

There was a feminine cough from Pansy's side that nearly made her groan. She didn't, obviously. No proper girl would groan in the company of so many people, it was undignified and mannerless. Instead, at her mother's cough, Pansy turned and gestured towards the older woman with one hand; the motion was fluid and soft.

"Potter, this is my mother, Lady Parkinson — Mother, this is Harry Potter, a friend of mine from Hogwarts," Pansy said by way of introduction for the pair.

Pansy's mother smiled genuinely and held out one hand to the younger boy, one that was bent forward with the expectation that he kiss it to show respect. Immediately, Pansy was happy that she had told Potter about that specific courtesy. If she hadn't, her mother would have made a fool out of the boy upon the first time they met.

Potter, thankfully enough, remembered that lesson after a few seconds of hesitation. He gently brought her mum's hand up to his face, where he kissed it before he gently released it as if the woman's hand could bite him if he wasn't careful. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Missus Parkinson."

"Please," Pansy's mother said as she drew her hand back to where it belonged, that being in her lap. "The pleasure is all mine, Mister Potter. I must confess that I've been quite curious about you since first I heard about the… unlikely, friendship that has sprung up between you and my daughter."

"Pansy's only said good things about me, I hope," Potter joked, and as such, Pansy cringed; he was entirely too easy to read, forward and informal.

Her mother, on the other hand, laughed and smiled widely at the younger boy. "By and large, Mister Potter, by and large — I would tell you exactly what she's said, but unfortunately, we witches must keep our secrets. Isn't that right, my lovely?"

Pansy smiled at her mother and hoped that her eyes conveyed what she truly thought. After doing so, she turned her attention back over to Potter, where a true smile made its way to her face, albeit one that was reserved lest the Malfoys watch them interact as closely as she would have if she had been in their shoes. "Of course, mother."

"We're sat right behind them — go on, Harry, tuck in," interjected a redheaded man who came over with the Minister, and Pansy's father, at his side; it had to be the Weasley Patriarch, big, round and balding as he seemed to be.

Potter did just as the man said and found himself seated right behind Pansy and her mother. At the revelation of who the seats behind them were for, Pansy's mother seemed to glow whilst Pansy glowered. It wasn't that she wasn't excited about having more time with Potter, but she didn't want her mum and the Malfoys to be with her.

If anything, the best time she had with Potter, was private time. It wasn't for anything untoward or inappropriate, but it was simply the privacy that all good friendships required if there were to be good developments within them.

Harry opened his mouth to say more, but — and this happened for nearly the whole match — one of the Weasleys spoke up. Pansy wasn't all that excited about their presence, and she knew immediately that none of them was excited about hers. That was how much of the match went; Harry would make some light, friendly remark, Pansy or her mother would respond, and then he would be distracted by the Weasleys or Granger.

Pansy had wished to speak with him in-depth about anything and everything that she could. After ten minutes, she had wished to have her mother and Potter interact more closely too. None of those hopes beyond simple words came into fruition, and when she thought they might be able to as the Quidditch match seemed close to ending, she, again, was wrong.

Her father ushered them from the stands at the same time the Malfoys were leaving, and once it was clear that she and her mother were safely at the outskirts where their portkey was waiting, he made to return back whence they had just left. He claimed he had forgotten something, his hat, she thought; it wasn't important, he could always purchase a new one, but her mum frowned, wrapped an arm around her and said that they would be waiting for him when he returned home.

It took until the next morning for the news to reach Pansy; there had been an attack on the Quidditch match, and people had been hurt, possibly killed… her father was untouched and didn't say so much as one word about what had happened.


'Dear Harry,

I heard about the attack at the Quidditch cup and from my father, I heard that you were at the centre of it. I don't mean that you were responsible, only that, as always, you were in a position that was risky. I do hope you're alright, it wouldn't do if my only Gryffindor friend was maimed.

Please do write back to me before the Hogwarts year begins. If you do, I promise that I'll allow you to ask me to Hogsmeade this year. I swear it.

Your friend,

Pansy'

When she set the quill down and sealed the letter, she smiled. Mayhaps it was strange of her to do, but truth be told, she had come to enjoy writing to Harry. With him, she didn't have to sign her ancient titles, nor did she have to observe strange courtesies that most others would make her. With him, the same as when they were together in person, she could be herself.

She truly hoped that he would respond before the start of the year, and if he didn't, so be it. It wasn't as if she wouldn't see him for much longer.


September 4, 1993

"I suppose it was a natural-enough look for him," Pansy conceded as she raised one hand to her mouth, whereupon doing so, she let out a few bits of laughter.

"Thank you," Harry said with a grin, one that was surprisingly smug for somebody as kind as him. "I didn't think Professor Mad-Eye would turn him into a ferret. I didn't think he was allowed to… well, I suppose he isn't. Not if Professor McGonagall's right, and I bet she is."

"She is," Pansy confirmed, pleased to do just that.

Potter shrugged. "It was still worth it. I'll never forget seeing that."

"Neither will I. Draco will be very cross with you, you know. He'll maintain that it was your fault that it happened and he'll try and get his revenge however he can. He's petty enough to do that," she looked at the floor for a moment when she finished, but slowly and of their own accord, her eyes sought out Potter's face again; they were treasonous eyes.

"I'll be waiting for him. Malfoy isn't intimidating, least of all after I've seen him in his true form," Potter chuckled, he didn't laugh this time around, but then, his face turned serious as his eyes filled with a faraway look; it would seem the distraction she had hoped to use had run its course. "I didn't think he was allowed to use the unforgiveables either… I suppose he's not though, is he?"

"No," Pansy confirmed, this time quietly and not all that pleased. She knew one would resonate within him, and there was a modicum of sadness in her. It wasn't as if she lacked empathy altogether.

Potter remained silent for a time, but eventually, he shook his head, muttered something and turned to look at her. "Do you think he'll do it again?"

"I don't know."

"But you know how he is," Potter said instantly, her uncertainty not sold nearly as well as she had thought it had been.

"He might. Nobody has ever been able to predict Mad-Eye Moody, that's what my father's always said. I suppose that is what's kept him alive through all the years he's fought," Pansy shifted uncomfortably as they began to get closer to a topic that she wasn't at all fond of; she and Harry would have very different viewpoints and their friendship wasn't worth risking over politics. "Who would have thought we would be Astronomy partners again? Do you believe Professor Sinistra kept us together because she still thinks we dislike one another or do you think she's spotted the friendship we've formed — it's not because of her either, lest the bitch try and take credit for it."

Potter's eyes went wide at her name-calling, and after a second of silence where that surprise made her nervous, he laughed. It was music to her ears after how suddenly his previous attitude shift had made him seem sorrowful and withdrawn.

"I reckon she thinks we're friends because of her, and so she's decided to make sure we stay friends… we could mess with her if you'd like, yeah?" Potter grinned mischievously when he asked that.

Pansy — she knew she should say no — bit her bottom lip in contemplation that barely lasted a minute. "What do you have in mind?"

What am I getting myself into?

She was certain that, whatever it was, would be exciting. Gryffindors held renown for pranks… it would be her first prank. When she thought about that, she couldn't help but be drawn to his lips; mayhaps by the end of the year, she might permit him another of her firsts.

Pansy felt her cheeks flush at such a scandalous thought.