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October 30, 1994
Pansy, a few of her friends, and a large portion of Slytherin were all standing together when the Professors urged them out to 'greet' the newest arrivals for the year. Obviously, between her familial connections and those from Slytherin, she knew that there would be visitors from across the channel that would be intent on attempting to win some level of glory or renown for their rather irrelevant schools.
Potter, his friends — Weasley and Granger predominantly — from Gryffindor and a mixture of the other houses were very close to her. She had chosen the edge of the Slytherin cluster with her companions following suit. She wanted to eavesdrop on Potter and his friends, was what she had told them. In truth, she wanted to speak with him at some point. He so often found himself in a spot of trouble, for a change, she wanted to get him away from such happenings. That was purely out of the goodness of her heart too, for she'd cultivated such a good bond with him that it would be a complete and utter waste if something happened to him. He was always finding trouble or creating it, and whilst Malfoy would say much of it was Harry's fault, he seemed to be a genuinely unlucky boy.
Well, that was until she had gotten involved in his life. Her friendship had granted him a new type of view on their world, and after he'd begun to learn their customs and history, he seemed more interested and more aware of everything. It was very poor that the Weasleys hadn't acted the part of proper ambassadors for Harry, though what could she expect from a family such as theirs? Nothing would still be far too much.
Pansy snorted and grimaced when she heard Ronald Weasley mention food before producing from his robe a few wrapped cupcakes. It was utterly disgusting and reminded her of Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's two trolls that seldom had one thought between them. At least Weasley didn't take up the entirety of a door and lacked the wits to move until ordered to by a far smaller boy that relied on his father's power.
She moved back when there was a commotion, and before her very eyes, a carriage pulled by horses landed. It did so at quite some speed too, and so fast and dangerous was it, she half thought the carriage wouldn't halt before it flattened the incredibly large groundskeeper. The thought wasn't a worrying one, the man, Hagrid, was so large that Pansy figured the horse would be the worse off of the pair should a collision have occurred.
Everyone waited when the carriage and the occupants therein did nothing. It was clear that it was enchanted. It had to be if a large portion of a school were to fit inside of it. Whosoever they were, they didn't seem to have a sense of time for Pansy had far better things to be doing than waiting for lackwits to exit a horribly-decorated carriage. That wasn't to mention the lateness of the second school either. With the urgency she and the others had been sent outside, she would have expected both schools to arrive within minutes, perhaps ten if she were feeling especially generous… and she wasn't.
Finally, the door opened loudly and what stepped out of the carriage was very surprising. It was no ordinary woman. Not by any stretch of one's imagination. She had to be a Half-Breed the same as the Groundskeeper was, only the woman was larger and actually seemed to have a hint of fashion, albeit foreign to Pansy's eyes and tastes. That woman's perfume was quite powerful too, for it took but a gust of wind to make Pansy and the girls alongside her, to wrinkle their noses; the French woman — for her accent gave her away — smelt of it so strongly, Pansy could have closed her eyes and imagined the giant beside her rather than ten or so meters away.
Leave it to the French to apply too much perfume or layer on their beauty charms.
Once the woman was far enough away from the entrance to the carriage, more began to follow after her while she spoke with the Headmaster and the Groundskeeper. One after another, girls a few years older than Pansy was, emerged dressed all in the same outfit. It was a soft blue that did little to flatter their varying hair colours or skin tones, and it lacked any sort of touch that the Hogwarts uniform and extras typically did. For once, Pansy was quite satisfied with the Hogwarts uniform.
Towards the back of the group, perhaps twenty or so girls later, emerged a group of five or so that seemed to turn the male population, by and large, stupid. They were all blonde-haired and pale-skinned, she suspected a couple had freckles but couldn't verify by the distance. Their figures were full, their hair was… fine and they smiled so widely, so perfectly, that Pansy figured they were her equals.
"Veela," one of the girls nearest to her said, and suddenly, it all made sense. Pansy was cross with herself that she hadn't deduced it in the first place. Their 'perfection' was made by magic, not through selective breeding such as her and the Purebloods her house often favoured. It was no wonder the men seemed silent too, for the aura for lack of a better term that the Veela creatures gave off was meant to seduce them. Many called them homewreckers or thieves, though, in Pansy's mind, she would grant the Veela that what one did shouldn't reflect across the entirety of their species; some Half-Breeds could be alright.
Harry, she thought, and suddenly her opinions of them were threatened with the potential of going inherently negative. She had worked on and fostered their friendship for so long, and he'd even gone so far as to speak with her mother at the Quidditch match with the Irish and the Krums. It wasn't often that she would allow or offer to any of her friends to meet and speak with her family.
After a bit of moving around in a way that shouldn't draw too much attention, Pansy finally found her targ— Harr— friend. He was looking at the Weasley boy he often hung out with and on his face was an expression of amusement and vaguely, concern. Granger seemed very annoyed. Pansy smiled when she noticed all of that; Harry was unaffected, Granger was bothered by Weasley's trance and Weasley proved to have weak willpower. In other words, all was right with the world.
Pansy blinked a few times in rapid succession when her attention went beyond the Gryffindors and to that of the lake, where a sort of streamline had formed atop the water's surface. It seemed like something was affecting it, and before she could deduce the reasoning, a great and large ship tore to the surface with all the splendour that one could imagine from a school that respected itself. At least they seemed to have a sense of style based on the ornate roughness of their means of transportation and the grand reveal of their arrival. The school of Frogs could learn from the other school.
"Come on," Pansy said as those from the second school began to disembark and the Professors of Hogwarts went over to greet them. "We can leave at this point, the Prefects have already begun to lead people back. It's not like any of them could be too important to know and we don't need to come off as overly eager. If they're interested in the greatest house, they'll join us for meals."
"We can't be the only ones that noticed our tables were extended in the Great Hall," Millicent added, nodding towards the Gryffindors who were already favouring the French students from… whatever school they hailed from.
"I doubt we are," Greengrass said, rolling her eyes before she brought out a mirror; the girl was always very focused on her appearance and not the least bit worried about what those outside of Slytherin thought of her. The boys especially tended to try and catch her for a date or what have you, but she always ignored them just as equally as she ignored most others. Pansy suspected she was bad at socialising and made up for it by focusing on her beauty and grades… if only she learned to talk down to people that were truly below her or bothersome.
Pansy chanced one last look over her shoulder at Harry, and when he failed to notice her, she rolled her eyes and continued forward with her companions. She's learned a bit that could aid him from Malfoy and his insufferable desire to earn respect by spilling secrets his father told him. She'll inform Potter if there's a chance that he'll find that information enlightening or cool, but later, in the evening. Her friendship with him might well be known by some, but she needn't flaunt it.
Potter continued to chat with those new students and his typical crowd of Gryffindor. It was something she hadn't suspected him to do, though she recognised it as a direct result of their friendship that she'd formed. In the past, he was so very introverted and seemed content to mingle with that small, select group of friends that he had formed when he should be expanding his circle of contacts. That was great for him, though it did annoy her the longer it went on for she didn't wish to spend the entirety of her evening waiting to catch him away from those that would look at her with annoyance or innate dislike. She couldn't help it if her beauty, wits and sharp tongue were too much for them to handle, could she?
Minutes continued to pass by until, by some stroke of good fortune, Harry noticed her when he rolled his neck. She took advantage of catching his eyes and motioned with her head for him to follow after her, and after a few seconds of him speaking with those still deep in conversation, he rose from his seat. Pansy left her loitering at the entrance and moved away, towards a far hallway where once he emerged from the entrance, she would still be visible so that he needn't guess where she'd gone off to.
He was very welcome for her consideration if she did say so herself… which she did, only internally.
A few seconds passed by, and Potter did as she suspected. He emerged from the entrance and looked around, his gaze settling on her. There was a smile that was on his face too, and when he spotted her, she swore it grew in size as he ignored those that were still around and moved towards her with haste. His steps seemed eager and his expression was very delighted, and as he reached her, she turned around the corner and stepped into a doorway that she'd already opened; it was another of those abandoned classrooms from a time long past when Hogwarts was truly filled with students.
Harry stepped around and with a noise she forced, he entered without so much as a second of hesitation — Pansy made sure to close the door and lock it after he did so. Privacy was often something that was hard-earned at Hogwarts, and so she went the extra kilometre by way of utilising a prior privacy ward over the room. The last thing she needed was a jealous Malfoy or one of his goons interrupting their conversation and learning that she was feeding him information to further their relationship. They wouldn't care, not Malfoy nor those that followed him if she was attempting to build contacts all throughout the school. No, all of them were set in their hatred for Harry Potter on account of their parents' opinions and that told Pansy all she needed to know… perhaps she'd only needed a bit of a push from her Carrow Cousins to truly accept her new degree of independence.
"Hi, Pansy," Harry said as he practically fell into one of the chairs very near to her.
"Harry," she greeted. "I saw you were getting on well with the French students. Are there any that seem worth knowing?"
"Everybody's worth knowing," he answered with a shrug and in a tone that was very honest. It was cute, both his words and his honesty. She doubted he could tell so much as one convincing lie.
She didn't say that out loud. Instead, she made a noise that couldn't be considered too stuck in disagreement and spoke again. "Those from Durmstrang were quite interesting. They have a class where you can study the Dark Arts themselves rather than only defending against them — if only Hogwarts had the same. I believe everybody would be far less likely to start fights or shy away from those that know how to do so. Anyhow, enough of the schools and the members that came from them. Have you learned why they're here?"
"People keep talking about a tournament, 'Mione's recited a bit about it too, but she doesn't seem too fond of it and she's said we'll be fine. Why? Do you know something about these other schools or more about the tournament?"
Pansy raised her nose and smiled, and in return, Harry frowned at her. They stayed looking at one another for a few moments, neither changing their expression until, in sync, they laughed. It was strangely enlightening, and it made the moment all the sweeter when Pansy understood she didn't need to act as she did with any of the others she called 'friends'. Not with Harry. He was happy to get to know how she was sans any of her personas that she would put on when in the presence of adults or her peers from Slytherin.
"I know they're both premiere schools from their regions, that they've each competed in these events before, and that they'll each be trying to return home victorious regardless of the dangers the tournament might present. I've also learned it will be lessened, to some extent. The danger, that is. I'm unsure of how they'll manage it without making the tournament lose the renown it carries, but they'll do it somehow," Pansy sighed and lounged comfortably in her seat. "You might just manage to stay out of trouble for a change."
Harry scoffed at her and shook his head, a smirk on his face. "I don't think I'll manage that. Trouble finds me, I just give it a challenge is all."
"I'm sure," Pansy agreed, rolling her eyes.
For the remainder of their time together, they were content to speak about whatever drew their collective fancy. It could be more questions and answers in relation to the Magical Society, for Harry was incredibly inquisitive, or about topics as mundane as their classes together. They would have a bit of a modified schedule this year, and Pansy would go so far as to say they would spend a larger deal of their time with one another. Harry was a good conversationalist when she plucked him from his shell, and now she would be hard-pressed to disengage her friendship with him. He was truly a very interesting, mannered and with her help, cultured person.
October 31, 1994
Harry had somehow managed to find, create or otherwise draw forward some form of trouble. Pansy wasn't sure how he managed it, but he had, and that was why she was waiting for him. She knew the route he typically took, and she was considerate and smart enough to know why he disliked the thirty-first of October before his name had been plucked from that infernal Goblet. Ever since he and the other three Champions had gone through the door, she'd been waiting for him.
There hadn't been a commotion, and he hadn't been brought out, and in her mind, both were good signs. She would attempt to see how he was doing when he finally did withdraw from the room for the evening, and if need be, she would try and alleviate some of his stress by way of conversation and her offer of assistance. It was true that she wasn't among the top students, but she was no slouch or stupid bint, and she would aid him in return for nothing but his continued friendship; they were already partners in nearly every class this year, what was a little bit of extra time together?
It wouldn't even be cause for suspicion thanks to the interference of that Professor Sinistra and likely the words she'd shared with her fellow Professors. The woman was very bothersome, but fortunately, also very stupid. Harry wasn't somebody she loathed or hated, she had never truly hated him, but only disliked him, and now especially, that couldn't be farther from the truth. She would even say she considered him beyond that of a typical friend, though she wasn't certain if he would say the same, and no, that didn't imply romance-like qualities.
"Pansy?"
She grabbed for her heart and wand both, and she jumped. Potter was right in front of her, looking at her curiously, but his expression wasn't so well hidden that she couldn't manage to see what else was coursing through that interesting mind of his. He was worried, stressed out, and seemed quite crestfallen. The reasons weren't entirely beyond her. She had seen the looks the masses had been giving him, likely assuming that he had submitted his name at some point or had another student do so for him; the Weasley Twins had tried and failed, and so she wasn't sure how Harry would succeed with how fast rumours got around the school.
"Don't sneak up on a girl like that," she said, her tone lacking any edge to it. Typically, he would have really been chastised, but she didn't have it in her. He already looked wound up and the other emotions on his face earned him her empathy.
"Sorry — you alright?"
Pansy brushed off his concern and parroted his question back to him. "Are you?"
"I didn't manage to say out of trouble, evidently. I don't think there was any chance of that from the start of the year. Unfortunate, that, isn't it?" Harry tried to make light of it, and after a quick glance around, Pansy grabbed his hand and pulled him away from where he'd been. There wasn't any reason to linger when the other selectees would be around, or Professors… or possibly that annoying child with the Muggle contraption.
"I suppose it can't be helped, can it?" Pansy urged him on, quickening their pace as they moved further away. "You can rely on me if necessary. I've finally grown to no longer despise you, and so it'd be a shame if anything happened that sent you into poor health… assuming you're going to compete?"
That was her way of inquiring without asking if he was truly going to take part in the tournament. Obviously, she hoped he would not, for the history of it was well known to any Pureblood. Many hoped they would get the chance to compete for glory, some for the wealth and others, simply to prove their name still deserved respect; Pansy didn't care for any of that.
"I'm going to compete — Dumbledore said it was magically binding, that there isn't a way out for me. If I don't, well, it wouldn't go very well is what I gathered. Thank you, by the way," Harry smiled at her when he said that and his thumb glanced along the back of her hand, causing that familiar, irksome feeling to pool in the pit of her stomach. She did so hate it.
"For?"
He snorted. "For offering to help. I saw the looks people were sending me, and I reckon I'll lose a lot of support just like our second year all over again. That'll be wicked, I remember how long it took for people to think I wasn't the heir of Slytherin."
"They can all have their wands broken and their magic sealed for all I care," Pansy said as she lofted her nose in the air. "You needn't concern yourself with the opinions of those unworthy of your attention in the first place. You're from a strong, important and historically powerful family. I've aided you in learning about our customs and so the vast majority needn't matter and our peers don't either. We're still in Hogwarts, and so most of what they do is posturing in the first place. None of us truly have any power, our parents have more, but it's our grandparents and great-grandparents that need impressing."
"Oh, well when you put it like that," Harry said, rolling his eyes even as his face brightened a bit.
"You're welcome," Pansy answered.
"Thanks," was his sarcastic response.
She smiled. Even if he had gone along unknowingly, she'd ripped a 'thank you' out of him. His bad mood was mostly dealt with as they walked along the back halls seldom used by their peers and Professors alike, and all the while, they enjoyed one another's company. It was yet another queer example of how well they could get along despite their differences and earlier… difficulties.
None of that meant she would thank Professor Sinister Aurora, and as for her cousins, the Carrow Twins, she imagined they thought of her more as a project or source of amusement than anything else. Ah well, so long as she expanded her friendships and continued her path with Potter, that was alright.
He truly was a… interesting person.
November 15, 1994
Pansy set down the copy of the Prophet she'd read with a scowl. There was, of course, the typical tabloid journalism injected by the vast majority of their writers, chief amongst them one Rita Skeeter who always took words out of context. Fleur's interview — the Frenchie — was rife with jabs at the girl, as Pansy had suspected. Krum and Cedric were meant as pieces to appease and feed into their appeal to the witches that read it, but Harry's lacked that angle.
Instead and apparently, there was a witch that he 'fancied' and wished to 'impress' though Pansy doubted he used either word in the presence of Skeeter or her followers. If Pansy were to guess, most of what he'd said had been ignored or taken out of context, and the woman likely didn't care. As she recalled, her Father had used her before, as had Draco's, to push forward pieces to the public without having their names attached. She would do anything for a few hundred galleons.
Oh yes, Pansy was quite aware of the rumours and after the slanderous piece about Harry, very willing to spread them if the woman didn't cease her incessant yowling.
Still, if there was a chance that Harry fancied a witch, Pansy would seek him out so that she might learn the truth. Every wizard fancied a witch, and most witches fancied a wizard, and so it would aid Pansy if she could figure out who Potter favoured… for her own reasons. It was always beneficial to know that type of information, yes, and it wasn't for her to see how she matched up against her potential competition if she decided to commit to Potter over Malfoy.
Not in the slightest.
Again, she felt that sensation pool in her stomach. It was greater and filled with a sense of anger that in and of itself made her angry. There was no reason to grow annoyed at the possibility of Potter preferring another witch. Malfoy remained the better match in an economic and political power comparison even if the public was indifferent or angry with the Malfoy name.
Tracey would say that 'the heart wants what the heart wants… go get your wizard' but Tracey also enjoys her tabloid shenanigans.
Pansy sighed and nearly hit her head against the wall before her. There was no reason this should irk her half as much as it currently was, and yet, here she found herself before a mirror, looking for imperfections after she'd reread the piece about Potter and a potential witch of his dreams.
"I'll seek the truth from his own lips," she said aloud quietly, content with that answer; he couldn't lie in any passable form, after all.
"You talking to yourself again?" Tracey asked, the girl lounging lazily atop the covers of her bed.
In response to that and with her answer in mind, Pansy raised her nose, scoffed at the other girl and steeled herself to seek Harry out for a small conversation. She would have to be careful and not press him, and at the same time, they would have to continue their secretive meetings when they weren't required for class projects. Undue suspicions from their peers would complicate everything.
Pansy had just the idea.
November 21, 1994
It hadn't gone according to plan. Pansy was dressed up casually, but beautifully, and her hair was done nicely with jewellery adorning her in a fashion she considered light but extravagant. In truth, nothing could make her seem ugly or lacklustre, least of all in comparison to the typical mundane witches that filled Hogwarts. She was of aristocratic stock that couldn't be bred in a few generations, least of all with Muggle blood intermingled.
No, she was of a noble quality… but Morgana, it was so very difficult to be content with oneself after a surprise meeting that was also meant to be kept very secretive. 'Date' was a strong word, though perhaps it wasn't too far off considering Potter had somehow talked himself into a Hogsmeade trip. Then again, if word somehow reached Draco, perhaps it would prompt him into changing and letting go of his juvenile fascinations.
She snorted. She very much doubted that. Boys were seldom that simple even if most wanted the same thing, as her mother often claimed.
"You know, we don't have to hide in some cruddy old classroom, right?"
Pansy jumped, whipped her wand out and all but hissed at Harry and his suddenness. "You're a prat," she said, annoyance lacing her tone as she looked accusingly at him.
"You weren't paying attention again, were you?" Harry laughed and looked around, the air in the room stale and old, though not nearly as old as Hogwarts itself; she'd even done a few rounds of charms to ensure the dust within didn't stick to her.
"Whilst I'm sure we don't need to hide, it's better for me if we do. Draco could be quite cross, and if he is, that would make my life exceedingly difficult… assuming it doesn't prompt a great change in him that would benefit us both," Pansy scoffed at the thought and pulled up her hood; she hoped the make-up and a few well-done glamour charms would aid her too. "Are we going, or are you going to stare at me like I'm the most beautiful witch that you've ever seen? Don't worry, I know it's true, you don't need to say it."
Harry rolled his eyes at her, shook his head and then motioned towards the door. "I'm here," he said to her. "We can continue sneaking about — you look very different than usual too… did you change your hair colour?"
Pansy nodded. "I adjusted the shade and lengthed it a bit. I'm not sure if you've noticed either, but my blush and mascara are done differently too. It was necessary so that others might not recognise me as soon as they see me. Perhaps they'll assume I'm some foreign witch. I don't mean to detract from you as a person, Harry, but as I said, it's better for the both of us if we manage to keep our friendship secretive."
"It's fine. I know it could be difficult for you and I'd prefer the new you to stay around a while longer. Malfoy's, well, he's Malfoy. I'm sure between you and me, we could guess just about everything he'd do and say. You're right too, I doubt the ruddy guy would change anything, he'd probably just throw a fit."
He most definitely would… though jealousy isn't too great a detraction. It can be rather appealing if it's the right boy. I wonder how Harry would react if I made him jealous. He's sweet.
She shook her head and admonished herself internally. Those thoughts weren't appropriate in the slightest, and so she would allow them to fester at a later time, when she could be alone and do her thinking without the boy of her thoughts standing directly before her, waiting for them to start their journey to Hogsmeade.
"We'll have a carriage to ourselves, I hope," she said suddenly, hoping he didn't notice the blush that was adorning her cheeks in a fashion that most definitely looked very beautiful. Especially when one considered the added blush she'd put on that morning; she was very good with anything that involved makeup or style, after all.
"Easy enough," Harry said with a grin. "Most everybody else is walking with people from other schools. I've seen it on the way here. Something about nature and spending time with them — you Slytherins seem to have taken to Durmstrang real well."
"They're agreeable, far more so than the frogs or the other three houses, save for yourself," Pansy wanted to smack herself when she added that last remark without the agreement from her brain. It had simply slipped through, and Harry's wide smile annoyed her as much as it dazzled her. Those feelings in her stomach chose that moment to return.
"I'm agreeable?"
"Don't push your luck, Potter."
Harry laughed one more time before they set out, their journey taking them to the wagons that would see them to Hogsmeade, and after that, Hogsmeade itself. It didn't take long, but the journey there was… enjoyable.
"It's a bit smaller than usual, isn't it?" Harry asked as he readjusted himself across from her. The carriage they were in, whilst very comfortable, seemed more intimate, ornate and well-done than the one that was typical of Hogwarts.
Pansy wasn't complaining. She was very used to the luxuries life had to offer and considering this was likely done as a result of the other carriage business being unable to ferry all who wished to ride rather than walk, the lack of payment on their behalf made it all the better. It was too bad for Hogwarts or whoever funded the coin for the expenses that they hadn't planned on a majority of the students taking a stroll near the path, where they could explore the surrounding lands of Hogwarts. If they had done so, they would have surely saved thousands upon thousands of galleons and perhaps saved themselves a dressing down. A mistake such as this surely warranted one.
"I don't mind it when it's nought but the two of us," she replied when she saw that Harry was looking at her expectantly. When she continued, she made sure to straighten her back and raise her nose if ever so slightly. She had put a lot of effort into appearing more favourable and appealing to his eyes — not that she needed to — and so it would be unbecoming of her and very lazy if she didn't attempt to keep that front up; by Morgana did her back hurt as a result. "You've not sat with those friends of yours recently. The Weasley and Granger… is trouble brewing between the three of you?"
Harry shifted at her question as she attempted to change the topic, lest he pushes on her initial remark. He became distinctly uncomfortable, and for a moment, she felt bad. His reaction assured her that something had happened, and whilst she would have enjoyed negative emotions from him previously, it made her feel uncomfortable, or awkward, perhaps a mixture of the two emotions that were very foreign and bothersome to feel on behalf of a person not related to her. Even when it came to Draco before she'd 'turned' on him, she enjoyed when he'd receive a letter that thoroughly put him in his place, or when he'd get detention for remarks regarding those he thought were below him. In truth, nobody was below Draco, least of all a majority of the other wizards. Many were on his level, but few could relate to Harry.
None were nearly as sweet, save for Cedric, perhaps, and the insufferable Hufflepuff boy was most assuredly not her type. She hated how outgoing, sweet and honest he was. In her eyes, he was like a puppy, such was the energy he gave off and the need to speak with every single person that seemed deeply ingrained in his personality. She nearly shivered.
"I don't know why," Harry finished, put out as he looked at her suddenly.
Pansy blinked at him, guilty that she'd missed what he'd said while she'd rattled on inwardly, too focused on her own thoughts that she'd missed out on his words. The ride was so smooth and the cushions so comfortable, it was very easy to lose yourself in your thoughts.
"They're bothered as the others are," Pansy guessed, recollecting the faces that even his two closest friends wore when he'd gone to step up as one of the 'Champions' of Hogwarts. "After all of the rumours, I would have thought they'd be the ones to act as your shields rather than the daggers that would be stuck in your back."
"Hermione won't do anything, she's just caught in the middle and I think she's like I was, you know before you ripped me out of a shell and started telling me the importance of the culture and so on. She's told me privately that she wants to help, that she still cares, but it's hard with Ron breathing down her neck and all of the others spreading false information about me and how I 'entered my name into the Goblet'," Harry scoffed and looked out of one of the open windows, admiring the view of the surrounding forest and meadows that had been clear cut from it long ago.
They passed a few other students that had decided to walk too, but Pansy didn't care in the slightest. She doubted she could even name them, for she'd not noticed their faces, only Harry's and how bothered he was by the treachery of his fellow Gryffindor housemates. In Slytherin, it wouldn't have happened. Despite what the other houses said of Slytherin when one was attacked, all would defend them, for they seldom had friendships outside of Slytherin and so the best way to ensure their safety, was as a collective despite the disagreements that happened behind closed doors. Most of them were family too, however distant that might be; most of the time, it was seldom past sixth cousins, though the heads of their houses often claimed that ensured purity, an ableness to breed and close ties so that in-fighting was limited lest one wanted to be named as a kin-slayer atop the title of a murderer.
"You shouldn't care what any of them think," Pansy said, shrugging nonchalantly. "I believe you didn't enter your name — you wouldn't go against me telling you to stay out of trouble, would you?"
He snorted and shook his head, a small upturn of his limits breaking through that glum demeanour of his. When she noticed it, she smiled too, albeit in a more smug, victorious and very beautiful fashion.
"See? I knew my trust was well placed when it came to you. And as I said, who cares what the idiotic masses might think of you? All it takes is one opinion piece and a great many of them will change their tunes when it comes to you. Perhaps one victory or good showing in the tournament could win them back as well, though you needn't have them return to your corner when they've proven as fickle as they already have. Good friends or trusted acquaintances or whatever else you might like to call them are very hard to come by, but once you do, they'll stick with you… I never thought I would say it, but perhaps — and that's a very strong perhaps, dolt — Granger might prove to be a very good friend to have so long as she doesn't go back on her word," Pansy finished with a sharp exhale, certain that her point had gotten through to Harry, and then she eyed his lap. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Mind what?" Harry asked, suddenly blinking at her with a very cute, confused look on his face; wizards were so very clueless, but she took that cluelessness not as a refusal, but as possible acceptance and did as she wished for what would be the remainder of their journey.
Pansy lifted her feet, settled them in his lap and sighed as she let her head recline against the padding behind her. With the fresh, flower-scented air, the ever-changing greenery as their smooth-riding carriage continued, and the softness of Harry's lap for her sore feet, she was in a state of bliss. It felt as if she had finally arrived to where her mother claimed she belonged; perhaps Harry truly would be a fine person to properly court.
She looked at him as he closed his eyes, seemingly tired. Happy that he couldn't see her, she scrutinised him closely. He had a rugged, wild and untamed handsome quality that her mother claimed his father once had. It was the reason many a witch had found him attractive, though he'd unfortunately dirtied his blood, as most would say.
Pansy? She didn't care for it. Her parents told her she was a princess from one of the greatest houses in history, and if she wished to have Harry for herself, she would do so. That, as of recently, was looking more and more like a very distinct possibility, albeit one that would come with a multitude of problems as a result.
She huffed. Her life was so very difficult.
Mother was right, I believe. Harry would make for an excellent husband, though he, like all men, would need some level of training. She could advise me, she claimed Father was very wild and untrained, but they're very happy and content even if Mother can't have any more children.
All of that thinking came after Harry had surprised her by taking her to a very recently-opened restaurant that was rife with foreign cuisine for their guests. Initially, she had been apprehensive, to say the least, but his choices with assistance from the staff had done much to change her mind when it came to the food their guests ate. It was well known that the French especially used far too much garlic in their cooking, though their various types of breads and cheeses, and above all, their desserts were very well-crafted. She was no aficionado of food, not in any regard, but she'd had more than what the average person likely ever would, and as a result, she did believe that gave her the right to grade the many restaurants that were lucky enough to service her and whosoever she went with.
It was at the very end of that meal that she gave the waiter and his staff a tip too, as her family had taught her. Harry had covered the entirety of the bill, which in and of itself thoroughly impressed her when one took into account his lack of funds that his family could throw at him. The tip was something that she insisted on despite him attempting to do so, and she had to talk him down and go so far as to kiss him on both cheeks for him to relent… perhaps the two kisses weren't strictly necessary, but it made him smile goofily and allowed her to do as she wished. There was a chance, a very small one, that she might have enjoyed the action and the resulting expression that settled on his face too, though that was strictly off the record.
"Where to next, Harry?" she inquired as they stepped out from the cosy heat of the restaurant and into the crisp air of the outdoors. There was a dark overcast that promised a storm, though she doubted it would arrive whilst they remained on their date — or rather, their day out together as friends. It wasn't properly a date until he asked her Father for the right of courtship, as manners dictated.
Then again, perhaps he had privately, as many suitors did. It was hard to tell with Harry.
"I actually have a bit of a journey to go on soon… would you want to go with me?" he seemed tentative, and based on how he'd looked as he spoke, he almost looked as if he didn't want to say it, such was the level of hesitance he'd had.
That alone thoroughly piqued Pansy's interest. It wasn't often that something mysterious would happen, and so when something mysterious did occur, she most definitely wished to be in on it. The fact that it involved Harry, a boy she was most definitely by now developing a minor fancy for, simply sweetened the deal. There was no way that she could say no to him.
"I would be very interested," she said, glancing around the area. "Where will we be headed and how are we going? Is it safe to presume we'll have to be careful? A journey does imply we'll not remain strictly where we're supposed to be and your expression was very easy to read."
"I didn't look that guilty," he scoffed, shaking his head as he nodded back whence they'd come from when they'd first arrived at Hogsmeade.
Pansy, in response, hummed at him. He was well within his rights to think what he wished to despite the fact that he was most assuredly incorrect. It wasn't his fault, no Gryffindor was any good at keeping secrets, and neither were many members of Hufflepuff. They didn't have so much as one deceitful bone in their bodies… collectively.
"I'll say a bit more in the carriage, yeah? When we're away from anybody that might be listening in on us," Harry said when she gave him a look that said she wished for more information.
When he said as much, she blinked at him, taken aback by his caution and forward-thinking. The him of the past would have snapped at her, and later, brushed her off, though that was discounting the fact that they wouldn't have shared so much as one word previously. That wasn't entirely her fault either. If he fancied her any, he could have approached her despite how intimidating her beauty and family name might be; too many wizards were far too scared around witches they wished to marry.
"You've changed," Pansy settled on saying, smiling at him in a way that conveyed her pride and hopefully showed that she was impressed. It was very well deserved and made her wish to act upon her troublesome, wonderful feelings all the more.
"You've helped, and you've changed too," he shot back at her, his eyes glancing at how close they were and the smile on her face.
He probably would have never seen her smile if they weren't forced together nearly the same time the Carrow Twins had encouraged her to spend time with him. It was two very convenient happenings that she somehow doubted were entirely convenient. There had to be some level of meddling from the Professor or her Cousins, perhaps both parties.
"I suppose I have," she agreed, and so they continued their journey in silence, whereupon reaching their carriage he would eventually tell to her his plan and invite her to where that journey would take him. Her surprise was very evident, she imagined, and the scandal that followed in her mind had to be equally as evident.
"We'll have to hug if we're to fit under that, you're aware of that, aren't you?" Pansy asked, her hands on her hips as they stood in the dark treeline, the occasional odd sound emanating from the woods.
"I did tell you it'd be a bit of a tight fit," Harry answered honestly, shrugging. "If it's too big a problem, I can go alone. I don't wan—"
Pansy's eyes widened and she shook her head, thoroughly against that idea. She was about to see a side of Potter that she would greatly enjoy. There was very little chance she'd get to see him break the rules often and less chance that she'd be able to spy on what would soon happen for the tournament and its various tasks. He wasn't ugly, nor did he smell disgusting. Surely she could handle being pressed again him for some number of minutes so they could spy on his first task together.
Hagrid, the Groundskeeper that she might not have thought all that fondly of before, was helping him too. Perhaps not every Half-Breed was abhorrent, some could, apparently, be quite nice to those that deserved it. She would be sure to tell her family, though not the details therein. Harry would be very upset if something happened to the man based on how much he respected and spoke of him.
"Quickly," Harry said, urging her under the cloak that was already partially on him as they heard something loud crashing through the forest ahead. It had to be a creature or Hagrid, either was large and not all that able of being quiet; Pansy remembered the man's attempts at flirting with the giantess.
She dove under the cloak — beautifully — at Harry's urge and only just managed to stifle a giggle at the memory before, a few seconds later, the man emerged a few feet ahead of them with a shifty, vaguely nervous look on his face. He spoke with Harry, and before too long, Harry too was under the cloak, pressed into her and together, they followed after the man. As they did so, the noises ahead grew louder and louder, until they came to a bit of clearing that showed just what was causing the sounds.
Dragons. Cages of dragons with wizards running amuck, some of them worrying and hollering as the creatures tried their best to escape their small cells. Hagrid and Harry exchanged words again, but that didn't last very long. The Giantess intruded, Hagrid spoke with her and moved a bit away, ensuring Harry could do as he pleased, and together, he and Pansy did just that.
"Dragons," he said in a voice that was nearly imperceivable, his breath softly splashing against her neck in a fashion that made her feel… odd.
"We can find a spell or tome that handles them," Pansy assured him, confident they could do just that. "I'm certain of it."
She mostly was certain of that fact. Still, she had to try and alleviate some of the tension or stress that he was feeling. If she didn't he might very well go mad, and she did still prefer Harry amongst the world of the living rather than the dead or seriously insane that were written off at Saint Mungo's.
Perhaps Granger could be guided towards a few well-placed books that would be 'stolen' from the Slytherin library. It wasn't too far-fetched of an idea.
"You think so?" Harry asked, moving back ever so slightly when one of the dragons roared and the many wizards and witches began fleeing, a sea of flames splashing against a barrier; a barrier that looked hard-pressed to contain the dragon's fiery breath.
"I'm very confident that we'll be able to find something to counter-act a dragon, yes, if that's what you mean. Wizards have been hunting them since the dawn of time, for those who successfully kill or tame such beasts are showered with renown and take for themselves riches beyond measure," Pansy looked at him, the closeness no longer nearly as awkward as it had first been on account of the fiery doom before them. Dragons did seem a very effective tool to get over one's worries. "You could blind it, clog its nose or ears, shred its wings… the possibilities so long as you're powerful and proficient are nearly endless."
"That'd wound the dragon, maybe even cripple it, wouldn't it?" Harry asked, his tone slightly louder and decidedly sour-sounding at the prospect of doing so. She hadn't forgotten the extent of his kindness, but when it came to him or the dragon, she was surprised he could still be so compassionate.
Pansy shrugged. She wasn't very worried about any lasting effects on the dragon. It was a creature, not a magical being such as Harry; the beasts were magnificent and beautiful, but Harry's life mattered more to her. If she had to pick one of the two to walk away unharmed whilst both would remain alive, the choice was most definitely an easy one to make.
"I want to find a way around that. Maiming a dragon would be a last resort, I'd rather leave it without lasting damage if I could," he sighed, took on a contemplative quality, and then nodded towards whence they'd come. Hagrid was already gone with the giantess from France, which meant they could very well find their own way to Hogwarts sans the large man's company.
"If you say so, I believe I'd prefer you unharmed," Pansy raised her hands when he looked at her. "No. You're not growing on me before you say it — you're simply a good partner to have in a majority of our shared classes, and I'd much prefer to keep you instead of finding somebody like Weasley or some other Gryffindor imbecile. You're the best of the worst, that's it."
Harry didn't say anything, but his smug smile and the look on his face as they walked the rest of the way back told Pansy that he saw straight through her hasty attempt at covering up what she meant. Potter could be very perceptive and intelligent when he wished to be, and it had taken her quite some time to figure that out.
By Morgana, she was really starting to know him.
November 23, 1994
"Granger's here," Pansy stated when she entered the room Harry had told her to meet in.
He hadn't mentioned that Granger would be present. They were meant to keep to themselves and possibly, if the situation ever called for it, the Carrow Twins since they had urged the friendship that was flourishing between Harry and Pansy. Those two were very smart and exceptionally stealthy… there was also the benefit that the pair were willing to do much and more if the need arose. Some of their actions would be frowned upon heavily, but it was always best to have those people on your side instead of against you.
"I am," Granger answered for herself before Harry could speak, her eyes sizing Pansy up, narrowed as they were. "And so are you, Parkinson. Is there a reason, or were you here to do something?"
"Before either of you pull your wands — Hermione, I asked Pansy to come and Pansy, Hermione won't say anything. I trust her more than anybody else in Gryffindor, and I figured I would need the extra help. I wasn't sure if you'd have the time either, I've seen how Malfoy's been more eager this year… you don't have one of those buttons either. Is that smart?" Harry's tone was gentle as he looked between the two witches, but when his eyes settled on her chest where the aforementioned button should be, she stood up straighter; his attention naturally went to the more beautiful of the two, and she had to preen in satisfaction.
It had to annoy Granger beyond belief that he focused on her.
"Of course, I wouldn't wear one of those infernal buttons. The design is simply atrocious, or so that's what I told Draco and he didn't question it. I'm not the only witch that's against it, others truly dislike the clash of style, and I imagine some of your companions haven't worn them either," Pansy looked at Granger then, the other girl's eyes still narrowed but she was calmer after Harry's words. It was clear that she still didn't trust, or like Pansy. It would be hard to, considering they were rivals far more so than Harry and she had ever been. "As you can see, Granger, I'm here to assist Harry. I've smuggled books from our private library, and I'd like them back when he's finished with them."
"Why are you helping?"
Pansy fought the urge to sneer at the other girl. It was a stupid question from one that claimed to be the brightest witch of their age. "Harry is my partner through a myriad of classes, and as you can likely deduce, we've built a relationship with that as the foundation. I've never truly despised him, that was always Draco's joy. He's kind, well-mannered and now, fairly cultured — don't let that go to your head, Harry. There's still much left for you to learn."
Despite her words, he grinned at her for all of a few seconds before that turned into a wide, full-blown smile. It wasn't often that she complimented him verbally, and so she suspected he'd be basking in that for quite some time.
"You never mentioned a friendship with… Pansy, Harry," Granger said, a brow raised as she looked closely at him; perhaps attempting to see if he were under the effects of a potion or spell.
"It was better for her to keep it quiet," he said with a shrug before he motioned her over to a seat very close to his. Enough so that she imagined their knees would be touching. "Come on, let's start. The task is tomorrow and I'd like to get these charms going if we can."
Pansy looked at Granger, huffed, and moved past the other girl. She could suffer the know-it-all's presence if it were for Harry. He was a very fortunate, spoiled wizard.