"You're joking. Blaise's new wife is Ginevera Weasley? Morgana, I miss out on all the good stuff"
"That's why you should move back to london where you belong, Daph," Pansy says dryly as she cracks open a locked drawer on the handome executive table sitting in the Pucey Manor study. The solid wood was no match for a witch with a little determination.
"How did Potter react?" Curiosity was dripping from the blonde Slytherin witch.
"It went from bad, then okay, then creepily well. Complete mental breakdown at first," Pansy muttered as she pulled out a stack of documents and started to rifle through them one by one, "But I think that was more from the shock of seeing her after all those years than anything really"
"Damn," Daphne shakes her head in amusement, "I can't believe I missed you and Potter waltzing. You made front page again,"
"I know," Pansy grins at Daphne, "I looked uh-mazing" She genuinely pleased at the photograph the Daily Prophet decided to use. A huge upgrade from her ratty sweater and jeans.
"So not the point, Pans," Daphne laughs flicking a gaudy ornament at her, which Pansy easily side steps, "You know, if you weren't Pansy Parkinson and he wasn't Harry Potter, you would actually look good together. Well at least, aesthetically you do"
"Aesthetically," Pansy says dryly
"Yeah," Daphne says thoughtfully probably imagining the two of them together. Both tall, both fit, both dark haired with a matching tragic backstory, "Too bad you're not Harry's type?"
"Oh? And tell me Daphe, what Harry Potter's type is" Pansy was amused.
"Girls who aren't assholes like us, obviously." Daphne says with a grin and a quirked eyebrow.
"Ha!" Pansy laughs. True, "Anyway, Granger gave Potter and I so much shit for that prophet article. Claimed we overshadowed the entire charity for the werewolf society. They stuck a short blurb about it at the very end. I mean, how is it my fault that our society is just that selfish and vapid, honestly."
"Merlin I missed all the fun," Daphne repeats with a sigh and stretches out on the chaise lounge before eyeing the Slytherin Princess whose eyebrows had further furrowed in concentration, "Okay, what are you doing?" she asked amused, "I thought we were here to get your stuff?"
"We are," Pansy says not really looking at the Slytherin as she flips to another piece of parchment.
"Yes but we haven't actually packed anything in your trunk save for a few books and clothes. In fact, why did you make us dump all your things in the back garden?"
Pansy only smiled at Daphne knowingly before she finally finds what she's looking for. She lays several parchments down on the desk and taps it with her wand. The pages started making copies of themselves.
"What is that?" Daphne said coming around to the desk and peering down at the documents that Pansy was so engrossed with. They were legal documents, each one detailing the businesses that Adrian Pucey has owned ever since he and Pansy had gotten married, "Is this everything you funded? Damn."
"Who knows. Adrian has never actually sharde information with me when it came to his business dealings—which in hindsight should have been a warning," Pansy said with a shrug, "I may not know now, but finding out is half the fun of it."
"You're scheming," Daphne smirks at her friend
Pansy grins in return, "Are you disappointed in me?"
"I'd be disappointed if you weren't," the Slytherin witch's smirk grew wider, "Glad to see you're back"
They were interrupted with a drawl at the door, "Pansy, when you asked us to come help you get your things, I really should have known that you weren't planning to do any of the work," Draco stood in the doorway with one of his signature obsidian tailored outfits except this time he had a muggle baby carrier strapped on the front of his chest with a babbling Scorpius in it. The two witches looked at him in amusement.
"I couldn't find a sitter," he said defensively, "And also, we're done. We got everything on your list,"
"Oh perfect," Pansy clapped her hands in one short puncture, "We're just about done here too," she says as she waves her wand setting everything back in order, "Where's Theo?"
"Just outside," Draco cocks head towards the entrance, as Pansy and Daphne make their way to the door. He trails along behind them bouncing Scorpius all the way. They found Theo at the landing of the grand staircase that faced the entrance of the manor directly. He was staring up at a portrait Pansy had just installed, a giant floor to ceiling portrait of herself that just smirked at you smugly as you entered the manor. The three walked up to stand beside the Slytherin boy was admiring the artwork.
"Why did you put your portrait here?" Theo asks her confused as she came to stand beside him, "I thought the idea was to take stuff out of here and not put more shit in?"
"Potter gave me the idea really," Pansy shrugs, "Well, indirectly. There's a portrait in the Black Family home of Walburga Black that he complains about all the time. Horrendous sticking charm, apparently. No one has been able to take the thing down for centuries. I asked Narcissa about it."
"I'm guessing you managed to recreate the sticking charm on this?" Draco was mildly impressed.
"So to speak," Pansy shrugs, "I like knowing that I get to haunt Adrian in some way until the day he dies. The only way he'll ever get rid of this is if he sets his manor on fire"
"Your pettiness continuous to impress me, Parkinson," Theo laughs before turning back to her, "So, are you finally going to tell us why you had us throw all your things in the gardens?"
"Oh right," Pansy said mildly startled, "Follow me"
She was absolutely radiating with excitement and the three other Slytherin exchanged amused glances with each other before following the Slytherin princess even further up the manor. They step out into a balcony facing the garden which was now littered with Pansy's things.
Furniture, fabric, vases, sculptures—everything that she had ever bought for this manor now lay in sad heap on top of soil and grass. Not even the linens and drapery were spared. After Pansy's things were moved out, the Pucey Manor stood empty, and cold and plain.
Pansy waves her wand like a conductor of an orchestra and the inanimate objects start flying and rearranging themselves, weaving in and out of each other in the air. They seemed to be forming a shape as they stacked on top of each other, creating a monument in the Pucey Gardens.
"Honestly Pansy," Draco rolled his eyes as he made out what Pansy was trying to accomplish.
Pansy only grins at him before raises her wand again, "Incendio"
The furniture starts burning, further outlining the work of art that Pansy had just created.
"So this is why you asked me if it was possible to charm everlasting charms on fire," Daphne laughs as she brandishes her own wand and adds the stasis charm to the flames. The red blaze seemed to burn steadily, "This will keep it long enough for Adrian to see it,"
"As a father, you're a terrible influence on Scorpius," Draco's frown was not enough to cover the admiration in his voice. "But as your friend, this is the greatest thing I have ever seen. Top five of all revenges you've ever done, really."
Theo grins as he throws and arm around Draco and Pansy as the four watch the flames further enveloping the carcass of Pansy's past life. "Look at us, all together again. A menace to society,"
The four laughed as they watched the flames rise a little longer. Admiration and amusement dancing in their faces as they said goodbye to the old, sad Pansy that lived in those hallowed burning furniture. Pansy only wished that she could see the look on Adrian's face when he sees this. In the center of the Pucey gardens, was a monolith in the shape of a middle finger, burning in red angry flames. Flames that would burn for the rest of the week.
Pansy was eating breakfast at her kitchen counter the next day when the owls started coming in. The first one was Adrian's. She watches the angry howler set off in her living room with amusement. He demanded to know why she even bothered to take her things if she was just going to burn them anyway. The howler said something about her being a spiteful bitch.
The truth was she never wanted her things back. She didn't want to have anything that had anything to do with him. She wanted to rub her life raw of him. But she also didn't want Adrian and his future wife to enjoy the things that she had built for him. Burning it all down seemed like a simple solution. Now burning it in the shape of a giant middle finger sticking up from the ground like a beacon to assholes everywhere well, that was just for her own selfish satisfaction.
The howler ends itself by cursing her out about the portrait that he could not remove. Guinevere was getting getting upset about it, the howler screams at her before tearing itself up to pieces leaving ash and soot on her table. She vanishes the ashes off with a lazy flick of her wand and proceeds to open her other mail.
The second owl was from Draco. He delivered her the Witch Weekly (leave it to gossipy witches to get the first scoop on relationship comings and goings) that featured a wide shot of the flaming middle finger on the front page. He attached a note that only read, "Ha! Classic."
The third owl was from Harry (also carrying same Witch Weekly paper and a note) except his note only contained five question marks underlined twice. Pansy laughs at her morning mail and her spoon takes another dive at her cereal bowl. She takes a deep sigh as she crunches on the breakfast grain and catches her reflection in the shiny surface of her never been used toaster.
The woman looked a lot better than she had a year ago. She was a lot more calm, a lot more happy but there in the glint of her eyes, Pansy caught something. A mischievousness that seemed to tell here that they weren't done just yet. They had a long way to go. The woman in the reflection winks at Pansy and Pansy smirks. Yes, there was still a lot of work to be done. This was only just the beginning after all.
If there was one admirable thing you can say about Pansy Parkinson was her tenacity and single-minded approach to whatever goal she has decided was worthy to pursue. This was of course, probably one of the qualities she possessed that got her sorted into Slytherin in the first place. People often took the word ambition and automatically assumed that it was a bad thing. Yes, sure ambition is bad when your ambition is taking over the world and committing heinous war crimes and genocide, but what if your ambition was to solve world hunger, or rid the world of any form of disease or making sure that your ex-husband died a slow and painful social death? Wouldn't one think ambition was a good thing then?
So Pansy did what Pansy did best. Scheme, plan, ploy—because what use is a good scheme if it couldn't be executed flawlessly. The Slytherin princess knew the value of the long game, the bigger picture. She wasn't one to indulge in cheap pleasures and victories (although she occasionally dabbles in it if it presents an opportunity that didn't require too much effort on her part). No, she knew that her prize lay in wait for her in the future, so she knows that she had to bide her time and ensure her eventual victory. She'll let Adrian enjoy her shallow victory for now, make him think he's won. It will be a lot more satisfying to knock him down later on.
Pansy knew exactly how to topple a man like Adrian. There was only one thing Adrian loved more than himself: money, and the prestige and power that it came with it. Money really was the weakest of gods you could possibly to worship. It was so easy and (so tangible) to destroy and take away. Adrian Pucey put up four businesses using Parkinson galleons: an apothecary, a bookshop, a menagerie and Scribbulus Writing Instruments (which Adrian seemed to have purchased and decided to revive)—all of which seemed to be turning a pretty profit for him. More than what he would accomplish through his own grit.
"Ma'am, you can't sit here if you're not going to order anything," a surly witch told her as she sat in Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor with her giant sunglasses and even bigger black velvet hat. She had been sitting by the window staring out, peeking from under her morning paper from time to time. She was much more interested in the shop that stood across the ice cream parlor than in whatever flavor Florean Fortescue has managed to come up with.
"Uh, a scoop is fine," she waved off-handedly to the witch who was still waiting for her to order something or get out.
"Of what flavor, Ma'am," the witch said impatiently
"I don't know. A good one, I don't care," Pansy returns the impatience as she puts down a galleon and the witch huffs off to get her order and her change.
Pansy turns her attention back towards the window, to the shop that she decided to put under surveillance. It was simple really, first she needed information. She had spent two weeks watching the shops, tracking movement and activity. She knew all of his employees by name and can recite their descriptions from memory if need be. She knew the exact moment they opened the shops and the exact moment they closed for the day. She knew when they took their lunch and when they took their cigarette breaks. But most importantly she knew how they behaved, their preferences, their ticks. She knew exactly how to break them if needed.
She would also come to learn two important things. The first was Adrian's comings and goings. Two weeks of watching the stores told her exactly where he was in what day of the week. Mondays he visits the menagerie, tuesdays were for the bookshop. The rest of the work week he spends in the Apothecary (which was was interesting to Pansy because now she knew which shop he loved the most). Now she knew exactly which one of his businesses would hurt the most should he (hypothetically) lose it. She noted that Adrian didn't come to Diagon alley on the weekends which gave her the perfect opportunity for her plans.
The second thing she found out was that Harper Quills was funded by Parkinson galleons—a fact that Pansy did not take lightly. Guinevere Harper was listed as the owner of the old Scribbulus (Now Harper Writing Instruments). While Pansy was supporting Adrian and his business ventures, Adrian was supporting his mistress. Pansy had almost given in to her urges of marching across the street and dragging Guinevere out by her hair when she sees her come in her shop that day. Instead Pansy takes a deep breath and places Harper Quills on the top of her list that she had to destroy.
The witch working at the parlor shop comes back with her order and places the scoop of ice cream served in a pristine, crystal cup. She also places Pansy's change on the table, "Your order,"
Pansy takes an absent-minded bite of her frosty dessert, "Merlin, what the fuck is this?," she makes a face at the witch who was just about done with her.
"It's Mr. Florean's flavor of the week," the witch explains dryly.
Pansy merely makes a face at the witch as she put another galleon down for witch's tip before standing up, abandoning her ice cream. She was just about done here anyway. She's watched and studied all she could from whatever shops across the street she could pretend to have business with. Now it was time to get things in motion, move her own chess pieces across the board. She ignored the witch who rolled her eyes as she collected her uneaten ice cream and made her way through the streets of Diagon Alley.
Watching the shops day in and day out was of course not going to feasible for her in the long run. If she was going to want to execute the rest of her plans, she was going to need some help. She slips through the narrow passage that would lead her away from the from the cheery streets of Diagon Alley to the twisted turns of Knockturn Alley. She waves her wand and turns her giant brim hat into a cloak instead as she uses the ebony material to keep her out of sight from prying eyes. The bell announces her arrival at the menagerie, a darker more sinister counterpart of the one found in Diagon Alley.
This menagerie was quite different as it only housed peculiarities of the magical creature world. Instead of fluffy kneazles and cuddly puffskeins, the shop housed the more sinister of spiders, snakes and amphibious frogs. She heads straight for the eight-legged creatures on the back wall of the shop. The menagerie had countless of arachnid species on display but there was one particular eight-legged creature she was looking for. She finds him, up on the third row, sixth column. She takes his display case from the shelf.
"How many of these do you have?" She asks the store owner as she approached her. The woman regards her with a careful curiosity.
"I have six more of those in the back. Seven including the one in your hands,"
"I'll take them all," Pansy says as she stares into the glass case, marveling at the creature that she's found.
"They're 100 galleons each," The woman seemed to doubt Pansy's capacity to purchase all seven of her arachnids.
"I'll take them all," Pansy repeats, this time slower and more intentional as she put more weight in her words, as she looks the woman in the eyes. The shop owner merely nods and disappears in the back to produce six identical spiders that she put in individual glass cases. Pansy inspects them carefully, checking to see if they're in perfect health and when she's satisfied, she drops a pouch of galleons and walks out with seven new eight-legged friends.
"Good god what is that creature," Draco mutters under his breath as he stood in the doorway of Pansy's apartment alongside Harry Potter and Hermione Malfoy. The creature that Draco was referring to was not the seven healthy spiders that seemed to take up half of Pansy's bookshelf but of the witch who had opened the door: pale faced and on edge from all the caffeine, drowning in large cotton sweatshirts. She looked colorless and deprived of all sleep, a pair of glasses sitting on her nose precariously and her hair pulled back in a hasty low ponytail with strands falling everywhere given how short her hair was. The dazed Pansy Parkinson only blinks at them before padding her way back into her 'office' which looked to be a hastily placed table against the west window of her apartment.
Hermione hits Draco on her arm and the blond Slytherin mildly flinches. After a month and a half of not being able to contact Pansy, the three decided to check up on the witch, "Hey Pansy, we brought dinner," She says gently as she took a tentative step inside the room. She carefully avoided stepping on anything, which was hard considering you could barely see the floor at this point. Pansy's apartment was drowning in books, tomes and parchment all scattered and stacked in every which way possible. The three guests further steps in and Harry closes the door behind him incase a muggle just so happens to look inside.
The witch doesn't reply so the three guests decide to walk up to her slowly. Harry eyed the wall nearest to the table Pansy was working on, his eyebrows shooting up in alarm. She had photographs of multiple people on it, with their names and addresses and backgrounds noted under them. It looked very much like a serial killer's hit list. Harry exchanged a worried glance with Hermione.
"Er, Parkinson," Harry said slowly, "Who are these people?"
"Adrian's employees, Harper's family," the Slytherin princess mutters under her breath, completely enthralled by the parchment in front of her. When Harry asks why, she doesn't respond. Draco inches forward and peers at the parchment from behind her. It was a diagram of the entirety of Diagon Alley with the complete land cuts of every building and every shop. He noticed that there were some shops she marked with an x and some that she had encircled.
"You going into real estate, Pans?," Draco was confused as to why she was so interested in Diagon Alley property lines. When the witch doesn't reply but merely continues to mutter under her breath, Hermione decides to put her foot down, instructing the boys on the next plan of action.
"Draco tidy things up a bit will you,"
"Yeahhh," Draco says looking around as he tentatively eyed what could be the filthiest apartment he has ever seen, "I'd rather not"
He earns another smack from Hermione, "Fine," Draco said unwillingly as he whipped out his wand and started charming the books and paperwork to be stacked more neatly.
"And I'll…get started on setting the table for dinner," Harry seemed unsure, slightly terrified to see what the state of the kitchen is.
"Good idea, Harry," Hermione nodded, "I'll…deal with Pansy"
While the two men started working on the apartment, Hermione gently pries Pansy away from her desk and tows to her bathroom, insisting that she took a nice long bubble bath to clear her head. When Pansy tried to protest Hermione casted a body-bind that would prevent her from escaping the tub. Once the Slytherin starts to visibly relax Hermione leaves her to enjoy the rest of her bath and joins the two boys in cleaning the rest of her apartment.
Pansy emerges from the bathroom thirty minutes later deep in thought, her hair wet and limp, her clothes slightly less ill-fitting. Hermione grabs her by the shoulders and leads her to her seat at the dinner table. Pansy sits down like a mindless rag doll while Hermione dried her hair with a wave of her wand.
The smell of warm Italian food woke her up from her daze. Only then did Pansy look up and blink at her guests, "Oh. Hello"
"Hi," they all said in unison, some more dryly than others.
"When did you all get here?" Pansy was dumbfounded. The last thing she remembered was her reading the property lines of Diagon Alley.
"Like half an hour ago," Draco drawled from across the table as he grabbed a serving of fettuccine.
"What's with the creepy wall of people," Harry asks her slowly, "You're not going to hurt those people, right?"
"Just emotionally," Pansy says casually as she helps herself to a serving of marbled potatoes, "Psychologically," she adds before popping a potato in her mouth.
Harry and Hermione looked worried but the blonde Slytherin seemed to think otherwise. He was acting like this was the most normal behavior in the world.
"Merlin I hate it when you get like this," Draco says in between bites.
"Get like what?" Hermione asks shooting her husband a look.
"This, creepy hyper-fixated, single-minded, Pansy," Draco motions towards the Slytherin princess with his hand, "Did you know she got six O's in her NEWTs?"
Harry chokes, shocked (and slightly amazed), "Seriously?"
"And not for the right reasons mind you," Draco laughs, "She only studied because Morag Macdougal told her that she was a dumb bitch who was going to fail out of Hogwarts. So in true Pansy form, she does every possible thing she could just to prove her wrong. She didn't eat, sleep or even shower (shut up, Draco! Pansy hissed) for months. We had to physically wrestle to get her to eat or drug her to get her to sleep. Honestly. Nightmare to keep this one alive. Anyway, When her results came out with six O's, the first thing she did was march up to the Ravenclaw tower, demanded for Macdougal to come out, then she slapped her in the face with her certificate all the while screaming, 'Who's the fucking dumb bitch now, Macdougal!' Draco had to stop because he was laughing so hard at this point.
"Jesus christ." Harry said slowly under his breath, gaping at the Slytherin princess.
McGonagal gave her detention for the rest of the semester leading up to graduation day," Draco said wiping about tears as he sobered up.
"And it was worth it," Pansy smiled at the memory, "I had to defend my honor,"
"Pansy!" Hermione admonishes, 'If did you so well in school, then why are you squandering your talents. We could use someone like you in the ministry. Do something good? Make some changes,"
"Nah, I hate the ministry. And also." Pansy waves her off with her hand, "I hate people. It's more satisfying to use my talents for my petty pursuits,"
Hermione glares at the Slytherin Princess who only grinned back at her.
"Why are you all here anyway?" Pansy raised an eyebrow at the group.
"We had to make sure you hadn't died," Draco answered easily, "Or that you showered"
Pansy chucks a piece of garlic bread on Draco head which he caught easily, "Very funny. Don't you think you three are being a little bit dramatic? I haven't been gone that long. I just saw you idiots last week"
"No. That was a month and a half ago," Harry said slowly, "We haven't seen or heard from you in almost two months,"
"Two months!" Pansy's mouth hangs open, "And you only check in on me now? My corpse could have been rotting here for weeks!"
"Now who's being dramatic," Harry rolled his eyes as he stuffed his mouth with another serving of the Italian cuisine, "And also I have to ask, why do you have spiders in your living room." The war hero eyed the shelf of spiders that was just staring back at them at the dinner table.
"They're my pets," Pansy said with a quirk of her eyebrow (Which Harry knows meant that she was screwing with him), "I've always been fascinated by them. Did you know that spiders are blind but for one species? Unlike other species of spiders, the Lycosidae has excellent vision, and they're also robust and excellent hunters. They thrive is solitude and don't weave webs. Instead the burrow and use their skills in camouflage so they can pounce and chase their prey effectively. They're plain and most of all tiny, measuring only between 10 to 35 mm making them practically invisible to the eye at times"
Draco laughs, "Are you going to kill Adrian with hunter spiders?"
Pansy scoffs, "Please, murder is the most uninspired thing. It would be an insult to these brilliant creatures if they were used for that,"
"Whatever are you up to now, Pansy Parkinson," Draco's smile grew wider with intrigue.
She only smiles back knowingly before digging into more of her dinner. The table remained silent, trying to process the information that Pansy had just dropped in the conversation. None of them quite grasping what the witch could be planning.
"You two are insane, you know that right?" Harry looks between the two Slytherin friends who only feigned innocence at him.
"Anyway," Hermione says slowly with a perturbed look on her face, "The other reason why we were here Pansy, was that Draco and I are thinking of going on a vacation. Out of town in one of Draco's summer vacation houses" (Only because Hermione was forced to take a vacation leave," Draco snorted)
"Okay. Good for...you?" Pansy said slowly, completely confused as to what this had anything to do with her.
"Well, seeing as you're in need of a vacation—and Harry, classes are out for summer vacation too, we thought that maybe you two can come along," Hermione said nervously, her eyes flitting between the two who were now making a face at her. Half grimace, have confusion.
"Why?" Pansy and Harry said in unison. The thought of tagging alone Hermione and Draco Malfoy's family vacation wasn't the most appealing weekend getaway (for obvious reasons). For one, Hermione and Draco argued (a lot) and two, they also made up with each other (a lot. quite loudly).
"We thought it could be fun," Hermione said innocently. Harry and Pansy exchange a look with each other.
Harry rolls his eyes, "Is this because we told you that you two were boring?"
"Okay don't be so full of yourself, Potter," Draco scoffs almost too quickly.
"No," Hermione said slowly, "This is because we want to spend more time with our friends. Do something spontaneous for once. Have...fun."
"Do you even know how?" Pansy snorts
"Real nice, Pansy," Draco admonishes his old snarky friend.
"Right," Pansy face breaks into a fake smile (that draco knows all too well), "Well, I can't go because...I have a thing," she finishes lamely.
"And I have, hogwarts...professor...stuff," Harry says unconvincingly.
"You don't even know what dates were going, assholes," Draco drawled at the two who were clearly making excuses (and badly, at that.)
"I'm just that busy the whole summer," Pansy shrugs, "With that thing,"
"Same," Harry nods whole-heartedly.
Hermione and Draco looked at each other before giving the other two a look of disapproval.
"Listen it's going to be great, the beach, the sun—," Hermione tried to go for her sweet, I'm ready to convince you, voice.
"You two are going and that's fucking final," Draco cuts to the chase.
"Exactly," Hermione nods solemn agreement and Pansy and Harry groan in shared misery.