Pansy did such dull work at her desk at Parkinson & Parkinson that it often gave her time to self-reflect on the banalities of her life. In fact, it was often here at her desk that she raged war with herself as she contemplates on the tragedy of her current existence. Her life was nothing short of privileged and comfortable but it also paved way to the dull ache of meaninglessness. She couldn't imagine that this was what was left for her after the divorce, this monotonous existence behind the desk at her father's company, a shadow living in the Parkinson Manor. The thought depressed her that her short precious life would be spent in this futile existence.

So she did what any person would do in her situation: something insane and devoid of all logic and reasoning just for the thrill of feeling alive. A year was far too long to feel so empty and numb like an inferi walking on this earth. Something had to be done.

"Are you fucking mental?" One Draco Malfoy stood glowering at her as she revealed her insanity to him.

"I was hoping you'd be more supportive,"

"As your friend, I can't support something so obviously idiotic," he says dryly as he eyes her. She stood unbothered by the gravity of her recent decisions, "Are you really serious about this?"

Pansy took a minute to think before meeting the eyes of her best friend with such resolution, "Yes."

The epiphany of her brilliant—yet, insane idea, came one afternoon during her lunch break. Her father had invited her to eat lunch with him that day but she declined knowing full well that it was going to be spent lecturing her about her life choices yet again, or worse, proposing another bachelor in his roster. No, instead she opted to take herself out of the building entirely and wander aimlessly in the streets as an exercise to clear her head.

Parkinson & Parkinson was nestled in the borderline of muggle and wizarding London and it gave Pansy easy access to both worlds when one needed. Normally she never wandered to the other side, always content with just staying on her side of the fence, but recently, with her messy divorce still on the front pages of the Daily Prophet—and not to mention the constant coverage of Adrian Pucey's engagement, Pansy had been taking her wanderings around muggle London instead.

It wasn't so bad once she got the hang of walking amongst the muggles. As long as she kept her clothing choices as plain as she could the muggles usually swept their gaze over her. It was here she discovers some of her favorite stores: a small cafe that served caffeine concoctions she has never had before. She finds she enjoys a well made Spanish latte. There was a records store that played music beyond what the weird sisters could ever compose. She finds that muggles spoke about love with such eloquence. Then there was a second hand bookshop that showed her stories and feats of the muggles. She learns about muggle cruelty in their wars and persecutions as well as comforting wisdoms from their Philosophers. She may not be a muggle lover any time soon, but there was something to be respected about their work (except for maybe the witch trials in America that she still had not gotten over.)

It was in this particular walk that Pansy would take a wrong turn into a street that she had never been before and instead of turning back and retracing her steps, her feet urged her to move forward, entranced by the scene before her. It was as if she stepped into her storybooks, a picturesque neighborhood of brick apartments with ivy wrapping its walls and a still, lazy river across it encapsulating its serenity. There was something about the stillness of it all that took Pansy's breath away. So when she saw one unit was for sale she took it as a sign, a sign that she had to belong there. The unit itself was plain and muggle as muggle apartments can be but there was something about the place, the energy of it that excited Pansy to no end. A palpable connection to the muggle stone that sparked inside her. Before she could even think twice, she finds herself signing the contract, putting her name on the property. She had only come into her senses when she stepped back into wizarding London, contract in hand when she blinks to herself, Now what.

Now what indeed, she thinks to herself as Draco paces up and down his living room all the while berating her impulsiveness, "Do you even know how much responsibility this is going to be—a muggle apartment no less. You need to register this with the ministry, have your wards approved, your floo network registered, your apparition point set—"

"Draco," Pansy tried to calm down her frantic friend

"Not to mention all the fees that comes with having to do all those and oh merlin all the muggle contraptions you have to deal with just to keep that place running—"

"You also live in a muggle apartment," Pansy says pointedly as she gestures around her, at the home they are now in.

"Yes but it came with a fucking manual," Draco hissed at her, clearly pertaining to his wife, the famous muggle born Hermione Granger.

"Excuse me?" Hermione raises a brow at him from the kitchen

"Nothing, dear," Draco waves at the bushy haired Gryffindor wearily before turning back to his long time Slytherin friend, resigned, "I'm just worried about you, and you going through all of…this" he gestured wildly, "alone"

"But I'm not alone," Pansy smirks at him, "I've got you don't I?"

Draco makes an amused noise before grunting and resigning himself to the spot beside the Slytherin witch, "Just at least comfort me and tell me that you have an actual plan in all this"

Pansy merely smiles at him and shrugs and the Slytherin groans even more miserably at his best friend's lack of self-preservation.

"All I know is, this is the first time I've felt alive and excited about something since the divorce," Pansy tells him, "That's got to count for something right?"

Wrong.

In the following weeks Pansy admits that she absolutely needed a plan. She would find herself neck-deep in paperwork and bureaucracy regarding her new muggle apartment. The amount of permits and licenses she had to apply for to own that piece of property legally was astronomical, not to imagine the amount of galleons she would have to cough up to the ministry so that they can preform their legal duties to her new living space.

It would be another month and a half before her apartment would be approved and registered to the ministry system, and then another week after that before anyone from the Department of Household Warding and Department of Magical Transportation was able to visit her new home. While the DHW officer set up basic wards in her home, one that provided her with basic secrecy wards (permanent notice-me-nots, silencing spells—the works) from the prying eyes of her muggle neighbors and a tracking ward for the ministry as to what magic was being cast inside her home, the DMT officer worked on activating and registering her floo to the network and setting up her preferred apparition point in her home.

On the other side of this chaos was of course dealing with having to tell her father about her plans and, while her friends had been (reluctantly) supportive, her father was adamantly not. He all but demanded her to stop with her ridiculous plans lest he cut her off from any financial support (because no daughter of his was going to go off and live with the muggles like a squib). Pansy, in an attempt to commit to her current insanity had promptly resigned from Parkinson & Parkinson and walked out of her father's study without so much as a backward glance.

Was she short of cash? Yes. Was she terrified that she now had no fortune to back her up? Yes. But was she going to admit defeat to yet another man? No. Pansy was of course, nothing if not resourceful. What kind of Slytherin would she be if she wasn't? Her savings weren't meager at all and was in fact enough to tide off a month or two if she lived modestly, and she could always sell the more ostentatious of her belongings for a handsome fee if she was ever so desperate for a meal one day. No, she was going to be just fine, she assures herself.

It was only after the two ministry officers had left her alone in the stony silence of her muggle apartment did it fully settle the enormity of what she had done. For the first time in her life she was standing alone, on her own two feet with no man to lean on. Not a father, not a husband, not even a best friend. Just her and her own grit. It was this moment that reminds her why she placed herself in such terrifying of predicaments: so she can be her own woman, and put her own fate in her hands. Now all there was left to do was see her insanity through.

The next Thursday, she finds herself in the new Italian restaurant in Diagon Alley with an old friend, Daphne Greengrass (now Nott). After getting married, Daphne and Theo had lived the nomadic life, coming home to London only when they had business to attend to or if they needed a short reprieve from their travels

"Pansy" her friend greeted with sympathy as they sat down for their meal

"Don't do that, you bitch," Pansy shakes her head with a laugh, "Don't you dare pity me. There is nothing to be pitied. I'm sure lots of purebloods get cut off from family inheritances"

Daphne merely gave her a knowing looking before dipping her head down to take a bite of her meal which, a red-sauced pasta dish, "I'm not saying that this is the wrong move, but darling, you're still going through a messy and rather public divorce. The last thing you need is to add to any more to your troubles"

"My very messy and public divorce is exactly why I'm doing this," Pansy says dryly as she stabs into her chicken cutlet, "I just. I just need to feel like I'm finally taking control of my life, you know? I know, it's not ideal but, at least I had a choice in the matter,"

Daphne nods sympathetically as if to say she understands what she's saying. So instead of continuously reprimanding her like what Draco would have done she instead says, "So what's your plan—you do have a plan right?"

Pansy groans, "Honestly, I didn't think I'd have enough nerve to even get this far but, Merlin, I don't know…maybe get a job?"

"That's smart, considering you're basically poor now," Daphne snorts into her red wine as she took a sip.

"God you're such a bitch, Daphe," Pansy shakes her head as the two witches laugh at the absurdity of Pansy's life at the moment. They catch up after that, Daphne telling her about her travels, and Pansy telling her about the progress of her slow divorce and the tart Adrian proposed to. Daphne updates her with Blaise (their every elusive Italian friend) who she and Theo had accidentally (miraculously) bumped into in Italy, and was currently dating a mystery girl.

"I think he's serious about her, they've been together for 2 years," Daphne tells her excitedly

"That's the longest Blaise has been with anyone," Pansy was shocked at how Blaise was finally able to to find a woman to keep him straight, "You really don't know who she is?"

"No," Daphne shook her head, "He wouldn't tell me who she was, says she was the one who wanted to keep it a secret"

"Huh," Pansy was fleetingly stumped but didn't think anything more of it as they moved on to their next topic in which Daphne and Theo were finally thinking of settling back in London for good in the next two to three years. At the end of their date, Pansy was feeling much more energized and ready to face her challenges ahead.

Of course things would be easier said than done. Pansy knew this and in the coming weeks she would only be proven right in things she had already predicted. Muggle living and apartments itself came with its own challenges. For one she had to contend with adapting to electricity, the very blood and life that courses through the muggle contraptions that now filled her home. Her muggle encyclopedia (Hermione Granger) was gracious enough to teach her as much as she could about muggle technology over their frequenting teas. When Pansy asked if there was a book that she could look up all of this, Hermione Granger instead gives her a small, plastic rectangle which she tells Pansy was a mobile phone. She tells her that if she had any questions she could always type it in the tiny contraption for some answers.

It was harder to learn, all this muggle technology, as Pansy was now realizing as she still failed to understand the intricacies of her mobile phone. She all but shook it in frustration as it still refused to work for her. To make matters worse her muggle contraptions noisily made their contempt with her known. Her toaster was sizzling, her microwave crackling and her coffee maker making a dull whirring noise in the background. It was enough to drive someone to insanity.

"Shut up!" Pansy screeches as she pulls out her wand and all but causes her appliances to complete failure until all they gave her was silence. Then just as she was enjoying her respire from the constant buzzing, her mobile phone sings a tune, "I said shut up!" She angrily grabs the phone and chucks it towards the mantle of her fireplace, intending to smash it into the pieces it deserved to be in. It was in this moment that her fireplace bursts into green flames, the former Gryffindor seeker striding in, catching her phone with ease before it hit impact.

He looks at the ringing phone, then at Pansy, then back at the phone. He presses the green button and holds it up to his ear, "Hey Malfoy. Yeah no, she's here," he raises an eyebrow at her as he notices for the first time how heavily she's breathing or that her wand was out in battle position with burning muggle appliances coloring her background. Harry holds out the phone to her, "It's for you," he says amusedly.

Pansy haughtily straightens her clothes and places her wand on the kitchen counter before crossing over to the living room to retrieve her phone from the chosen one, "I…forgot you were coming over today," she tells him in a clipped tone before mimicking Harry's motions earlier and putting the phone up to her ear. She watches Harry shuffle away towards her kitchen, bending down to check the remains of her appliances.

Draco calls her almost every other day to check up on her, which irritates her to no end. She knows he's just concerned but it was also making her feel like he didn't trust her enough to survive something as mundane living in a muggle apartment. So much for believing in her.

"It's not like I'm going to burn down my house, Draco!" Pansy hissed through the phone. Harry catches her eye with a raised eyebrow as he extinguishes the smoking toaster, having been blasted by the irate witch. Pansy scowls at the smug Gryffindor as he moves on the microwave.

"And why is Potter there?" Draco demanded through and static

"None of your business," Pansy snaps at him as she presses the red button with such force, ending the call. She crosses the room back to the kitchen and carelessly tosses the phone onto her kitchen counters. The two of them stand in pregnant silence.

"So," Harry smirks at her.

"So," Pansy says slowly, "I was going to ask you to help me with the muggle contraptions but it turns out your services are no longer needed. I mean, I could always ask Granger but she always tells Draco everything and those two are being so insufferable right now."

"Lesson number one, maybe don't hex them," Harry's delight at her frustration was making her eye twitch.

"Maybe I should hex," she grits through her bad temper

"I mean, you can try. But if my past record tells you anything, it's a lot harder than one would think," Harry laughs as he moves around the counter and heads to the front door as if to leave. Instead he holds the front door open and waits for her, "New plan"

"What" Pansy blinks at him.

"You're obviously worked up and in a foul mood. I suggest we get something to eat," Harry looks at her pointedly, "It will make you feel better"

"As if eating will make me feel better," Pansy scoffs but nonetheless summons her coat and follows Harry out of the apartment, eager to put the disaster that was this day behind her.

Friday night was a terrible night to dine out if you didn't have a reservation. With the turn of the century more and more muggle influences have seeped in wizarding community, most rampantly was their cuisine culture with new restaurants and shops popping up in Diagon Alley by the month. Pansy for one enjoyed the diversity of dishes and flavors they had sorely lacked before. They ended up in a new bar that just opened a month ago. It was the only place they could still find a chair and they at least had decent comfort food to stave of hunger.

The noise in the bar was already at an excited buzz when they had walked in, squeezing into the last two seats at the end of the bar. Harry had called down the bartender and ordered them drinks and some appetizers to start with.

"It wasn't this packed the last time I was here," Harry says above the noise, "Good for them I suppose"

"Ah, is this where you take your girls, Potter?" Pansy grins at him as she takes the drink the bartender set in front of her. It was sour just like she liked her cocktails.

"Funny," He tells her dryly taking his own drink in his hands, "I was with Dean and Seamus if you must know. They're getting married and wanted me to preside. Me. The irony is not lost on me. I told them I probably wasn't the best person to be giving out their marriage rites. What would I even say in the ceremony? Marriage sucks and love is dead, but here's to you two?"

Pansy started laughing at the propensity at which bad luck seemed to follow the Chosen One around, "For fuck's sake, Potter. Only you,"

Harry wrestles a smiles forming in his lips, "I can't catch a break, I swear"

They fall into the easy conversation they usually shared when they found themselves in each others company. They talked about everything and nothing at the same time, usually forgetting time passing-by them. By the time they realized what time it was, it was past 1 in the morning and only a few other people were left in the bar with them. Harry signals for the bill while Pansy shrugs on her coat.

"I don't know, I just feel like a fucking failure all the time, just once I'd like a win," Pansy says dejectedly, a little buzzed by the alcohol, "I can't stand having to tell Draco about another thing I screwed up in. That's why I really need this whole independence thing to work. My pride won't allow me to fail."

"You have no trouble telling about your failures," Harry tells her pointedly

Pansy snorts as she pulls out her velvet pouch of galleons and fishes out her share of the meal, "You're in the same fucked up boat as I am, Potter. I hardly have a reason to feel insecure with you,"

"Wow, thanks," He tells her dryly as he stops her from paying, dropping a few of his own galleons on the counter. He steers her out of the bar before she can protest about paying. They break out into the cold crisp night that it almost makes Pansy want to dive back into the warmth of the bar. Instead she shudders and pulls her coat tighter around her and stuffs her hands in its warm pockets.

"How did you want to get home?"

"Walk," Pansy decides after a minute, "I need to clear my head, I'm a bit buzzed"

Harry nods and they start to make their way back towards the Leaky Cauldron where they can exit towards muggle London. The two walked in silence, as their footsteps echoed in the empty cobblestones of Diagon Alley. Only a few other people loitered the desolate street.

"You're not a failure you know," Harry suddenly speaks up, "You're trying. That automatically counts as success,"

Pansy stares at him before breaking down in drunken giggles, "Sure, Potter, I'm broke, jobless, in a home I can barely get to function without setting something on fire, but yeah, sure. I'm a such a success"

"I'm serious, Parkinson," He rolls his eyes despite the smile creeping on his face, "You could've taken the easy way and stayed the same way you were. But you decided to take the road less travelled. That's got to count for something. Not a lot can be said about people in your position."

"Yeah well, not a lot of people are me," She grins at him as she skips ahead of him.

"And there's the confidence. I was wondering when that was going to show up" Harry says dryly as he shakes his head and trails behind her.

It would have been a perfect end to Pansy's night. A nice soothing walk after a nice soothing conversation with a friend. But as it was, life wasn't fair, and the universe didn't care about your feelings or your plans. Only cosmic chaos.

"Pansy?" A voice that she could recognize anywhere stops her in her tracks, a cold chill runs through her spine. She was frozen solid as if a cold bucket of water was poured from the top of her head. She stares ahead of her at the person who she had come to hate. The person who she didn't want seeing her in this way. There, standing between her path to the Leaky Cauldron, was her ex-husband Adrian, on his arm draped his new fiancé.

Of course she chose this day to come out with her muggle jeans, boots and the comfiest of her sweaters. She couldn't help but feel conscious against the couple that was currently dressed to the nines. They looked like the had just come out from an opera showing. Adrian smiles at her but she knew what his smile meant. It meant that he can see right through her and just how much she was at the losing end of the divorce. He, after all, thinks that she had lost everything at this point and that he had won.

"Adrian," her voice sounded clipped although she was going for brave. Pansy clenches her fist so tightly that her nails dig into her skin. As if sensing her distress Harry comes to stand beside her to put a warm comforting hand on the small of her back. Her tenseness decreased significantly at his reassurance. She hears him mutter, breathe. It was enough to put her back into her senses. Why should she act small around Adrian? It was he who wronged her after all.

Adrian looks to Harry then at Pansy then back to Harry before he says, in an amused tone, "Potter"

"Pucey," the wizard beside Pansy returns evenly as he continuous to comfort her.

"Sinking her claws into you now, is she Potter?" There was nothing friendly about the smile displayed on his lips. The woman beside Adrian seemed to be pleased with herself as she looked at Pansy with scrutiny. She can feel Harry stiffen beside her so she decides to intervene before Harry could do anything.

"You know, Adrian, you have the rest of your life to be an asshole. Why not take a day off?" Pansy dryly tells him.

"You were always such a bitch, Pansy," His smile disappears replaced by a scowl. Clearly he was still not used to a woman talking back to him. He was sure he had all but stamped that out of Pansy.

"I've been called worse things," Pansy rolls her eyes, finally standing taller in her skin, "Your wife"

The corner of Harry's lips twitch upwards but otherwise he retains his stony composure in support of Pansy's scathing words. Adrian looked about ready to murder her. He hated when she called him out in public, he hated being taunted like a fool in front of other people.

Adrian spends the next minute spewing venomous hate towards Pansy even going as far as telling her what she always knew and what he had always repeated during the past year of their separation. That he hated her, and never loved her. She spent a year destroyed by that fact but now she finds she couldn't care less anymore. The only thing she feels sorry for now is the sorry state she let herself get to—and all for a boy! She feels Harry try to advance on Adrian but she stops him by tugging on his jacket. She appreciated the sentiment but she could handle this on her own.

"Is that the best you've got?" Pansy raises an eyebrow at him, weaponizing her indifference towards him.

The two stand glaring at each other until the soon-to-be new Mrs. Pucey tugs on Adrian's arm declaring this encounter boring and that she was getting cold and wanted to go home, "She's hardly worth it," she cooed to Adrian. The wizard blinks back his anger and only nods at his fiancée and without another word, disapparates on the spot leaving Harry and Pansy in silence once again.

For a while only Pansy's heavy breathing could be heard in the now empty Diagon Alley. Her breath coming out in white angry puffs. It was only after the blood had rushed out of her head did she realize that Harry was still standing beside her or that he was still gently rubbing her back to soothe her. Realizing this, she awkwardly thanks him and he let his hand fall, nodding in acknowledgement of her gratitude.

"Well…I'm fucking sober now," Pansy says with a shaky laugh, "Be honest, how pathetic do I look like right now?"

"You like fine,"

Pansy groans, "I wish I was better dressed today. Or that I brushed my hair. Or put on make up" No girl ever wants to look less than amazing in front of their exes after all. It was just her luck, really—or lack of it, in this case.

"You look great," Harry reassures her.

"Stop it," Pansy tries to stop herself from smiling at his attempts to cheer her up.

"Spectacular, really" he grins at her

"Oh fuck off, Potter," she starts laughing then sobers up, "Sorry you had to see that. That was…messy,"

The boy-who-lived merely shrugs, "Want to go get dessert?"

"Stop trying to feed me," Pansy rolls her eyes at him.

"Eating helps you feel better," He says as if it was a medically proven fact.

Pansy throws him a dubious look but ultimately concedes, "Fine. But If I stop fitting into any of my robes I'm hexing you." She tells him as they both continue on their path towards muggle London, now on the hunt for 2 am ice cream.