After Potter had turned her down in the hospital wing, Pansy had felt something she rarely allowed herself to feel hurt. It was a dull, gnawing ache that sat at the pit of her stomach, something she hadn't been able to shake no matter how much she tried to pretend otherwise.
A few days after Pansy had left the hospital wing, still reeling from Harry's rejection. She had asked him to hang out after fixing his bandages, hoping to bridge the growing gap between them, but he had declined, citing the pressures of reputation. The memory of his words gnawed at her, and she hadn't been able to shake the sting of it since.
One afternoon, Pansy found herself in the Slytherin common room with Daphne. The room was quiet, save for the crackling fire and the faint murmur of a few scattered conversations. Pansy sat in her usual spot, staring at the flames, lost in thought.
Daphne, ever observant, noticed the distant look in her friend's eyes. She set down her quill and parchment, folding her arms. "What's going on? You've been mopping for days."
Pansy shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to admit what was really on her mind. But Daphne's piercing gaze made it impossible to avoid the question any longer. With a sigh, she turned to face her.
"It's Potter," Pansy said softly, her voice almost lost in the crackling fire.
Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Potter? What happened?"
Pansy bit her lip, fidgeting with the edge of her robe. "I asked him if he wanted to hang out… you know, as a thank you at the hospital wing. But he basically said no. Something about his reputation."
Daphne stared at her in disbelief for a moment before letting out a snort. "Potter rejected *you*? Over reputation? Unbelievable. I didn't think he cared about that kind of thing."
"Neither did I," Pansy muttered, her voice laced with frustration. "But he turned me down, Daphne. And it's been eating at me ever since. I didn't expect to care this much, but… I do."
Daphne softened, her smirk fading into concern. "Pans, why didn't you tell me this sooner? You've been carrying this around for days. You can't let Potter get to you like this."
Pansy sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I just don't understand. We had this moment. He's not the arrogant Gryffindor I thought he was. He's... different or at least I thought he was and now it feels like none of that matters because of his stupid reputation."
Daphne shook her head. "Maybe he's scared. I mean, think about it. You're a Slytherin, he's a Gryffindor, and everyone knows you two aren't supposed to get along. If word got out, it would cause a lot of drama."
"I know," Pansy admitted, her voice quieter. "But still, it hurt."
Daphne leaned closer, resting a hand on Pansy's arm. "Look, Potter's a fool if he doesn't see what's right in front of him. But don't let him ruin your confidence. You're better than that. If he's not ready to take that step, that's on him, not you."
Pansy nodded, but the rejection still weighed heavy on her heart. "I just… thought it could be something different."
Daphne gave her a knowing smile. "Maybe it still can be. But don't let it consume you. There's a lot more to life than waiting around for Potter to figure things out."
Pansy gave a small, appreciative smile before Daphne left her alone. She knew Daphne was right, but that didn't make the ache any less real.
She had told herself she didn't care. That she was just being foolish for even asking him to hang out in the first place. What had she been thinking, extending some kind of olive branch to Harry Potter of all people? The Boy Who Lived, Gryffindor's golden hero, someone who had never paid her more than a fleeting glance unless it was during some spat between their houses. Of course, he'd reject her offer. What had she expected?
As she sat in the Slytherin common room that night, staring into the flickering flames of the fireplace, the usual noise of her housemates felt distant. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying not to focus on Draco's usual boasting about how Slytherin was going to crush Gryffindor in the next Quidditch match. Normally, she'd be right there with him, chiming in with her own snide remarks. But lately, she had felt disconnected, her mind elsewhere.
Potter's words echoed in her head: *"You know how it is. Everyone would freak out. I can't just hang out with a Slytherin without causing a scene."*
Was that all she was to him? Just a Slytherin, someone he couldn't be seen with because of what others might think? Pansy clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as the familiar bitterness surged inside her. She had been foolish to think that anything could be different.
But it wasn't just anger she felt, it was disappointment. The same kind of disappointment she had felt all her life in the world of pureblood society, where everything was about appearances and reputation. It seemed like Harry wasn't so different from the rest of them, after all.
Over the next few days, Pansy kept her distance, but slowly threw herself into her usual routines. She would sometimes laugh at Draco's jokes, participated in the mocking of Gryffindors, and kept up her sharp-tongued façade. But inside, she still felt hollow.
She wasn't sure why his rejection bothered her so much. It wasn't like they were friends. They barely knew each other outside of the roles they played in their respective houses. But for one moment in the hospital wing, Pansy had thought maybe things could be different. Maybe there was more to Harry Potter than the Gryffindor hero everyone saw.
Now, that fleeting hope felt like a joke. She wasn't used to caring about what others thought, but Harry's rejection stung in a way that was hard to ignore. It made her feel small, like she wasn't worth breaking the rules for. It was a feeling she hated, one she tried to bury as deeply as she could.
By the time a week had passed, Pansy had built her walls back up, determined to forget about her moment of weakness. She had managed just fine before Harry had saved her from that creature, and she'd manage just fine now. She would shove this all down, the way she had been taught her whole life.
But as she sat with her friends in the Great Hall that morning, pretending to listen to Draco's latest rant about Hagrid and his "ridiculous creatures," Pansy felt the weight of everything pulling at her. She glanced across the room to where Harry sat with his friends.
It was like they lived in completely different worlds. And maybe that was the problem.
Pansy tore her gaze away, focusing instead on the half-eaten breakfast in front of her. If she kept telling herself she didn't care, maybe eventually it would be true.
Earlier that same day , Harry finally stepped out of the hospital wing, feeling much better after Madam Pomfrey's relentless care. His head no longer throbbed, and the soreness from his fall had mostly faded. As he walked out into the corridor, sunlight streaming through the tall windows, he saw Ron and Hermione waiting for him, their faces lighting up as he approached.
"There he is!" Ron cheered, clapping Harry on the back. "You feeling better, mate?"
"Much better," Harry smiled, grateful for his friends' support. "Thanks for checking in all the time. Madam Pomfrey was getting sick of me, I think."
Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled fondly. "You gave us all quite a scare, Harry. But I'm glad you're finally out. We've missed you in class."
"Yeah," Ron added. "And you missed some top-quality Snape sneering, by the way. He seemed extra moody since you've been gone."
"Great, I'm sure he'll make up for it when I'm back," Harry chuckled, but his thoughts were already drifting elsewhere to Pansy. He hadn't seen her since she visited him in the hospital wing and how hurt she looked when she had asked him to hang out.
"So, you're up for joining us for lunch?" Hermione asked as they started walking down the corridor toward the Great Hall.
"Yeah," Harry replied absently, though his mind was still elsewhere.
As they neared the entrance to the Great Hall, Harry's eyes instinctively flicked to the Slytherin table. There she was, sitting with her usual group of Slytherins, including Draco Malfoy, who was talking loudly about something that seemed to amuse them all. Pansy, however, didn't look engaged. Her eyes were downcast, and she seemed distant, barely reacting to whatever was going on around her.
Harry swallowed, feeling a pang of guilt. She looked like she was trying to shut the world out, and he was sure that their conversation had something to do with it.
Hermione noticed his gaze lingering on the Slytherin table and raised an eyebrow. "Harry, is everything okay?"
He snapped out of it quickly. "Yeah, just... thinking."
Ron, completely unaware, was already talking about Quidditch again. "You'll never guess what Seamus was saying about the next match. He thinks Malfoy will-"
But Harry wasn't listening. His thoughts were still with Pansy, and the words he'd left unspoken.
As Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table with Ron and Hermione, he kept stealing glances at the Slytherin table. Pansy hadn't moved much, still keeping to herself, which was unusual for her. Normally, she would be engaging in whatever Malfoy was up to, laughing and making sharp remarks. But today, she looked... withdrawn.
Harry poked at his food, barely listening to Ron's animated discussion about their upcoming Quidditch practice. His mind was fixated on the moment in the hospital wing, and how he had brushed her off. He didn't regret being honest about the complications of them being seen together , but something about the way she had left hurt and frustrated stuck with him.
Hermione nudged him. "Harry, you're really not paying attention to your food. What's going on?"
Harry sighed, leaning closer so only Hermione could hear. "It's... it's Parkinson."
Hermione's brows furrowed in confusion. "Parkinson? What about her" She whispered.
"We, uh... we talked when I was in the hospital wing. She... she thanked me for saving her, but then..." He hesitated, glancing quickly in Pansy's direction. "She asked if we could, I don't know, hang out. I said no."
Hermione's eyes widened slightly, and she quickly glanced toward Pansy before turning back to Harry. "You said no? Why?"
"I don't know," Harry admitted, running a hand through his hair. "I told her it was because of... you know, reputation. Gryffindor, Slytherin, all that. I didn't want people talking."
Hermione frowned deeply. "That's not like you, Harry. Since when do you care about what people think?"
"I don't," Harry said quickly, then paused. "I mean, I didn't think I did, but... it's complicated."
"Seems like you made it complicated," Hermione pointed out, her tone gentle but firm. "If she was reaching out to you, maybe she was trying to be genuine. It's not easy for someone like Pansy to do that."
Harry knew Hermione was right. He could sense that whatever Pansy had been feeling in that moment had been real. It wasn't just a casual request. It had meant something to her, and he'd shut it down.
"Yeah," Harry muttered, guilt rising in his chest. "I messed it up."
"Maybe not entirely," Hermione said thoughtfully, glancing at Pansy again. "You could always try to talk to her. Apologize, maybe?"
"Maybe," he muttered
As Harry sat there, his thoughts racing, he leaned closer to Hermione again. "Listen, Hermione," he said quietly, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening, "can you keep this between us? At least for now."
Hermione looked at him curiously but nodded. "Of course, Harry. But... why? What's really going on?"
Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just... complicated. You've never really liked Pansy, and I don't exactly blame you. She's been horrible to you and to a lot of people. It's not easy to... I don't know, see her differently."
Hermione's face softened as she considered his words. "You're right. I don't like her. And honestly, I don't understand why she's suddenly trying to be friendly with you. But if she's trying to change, maybe there's more to it than we've seen."
"Maybe," Harry said quietly. He wasn't sure if there was more to Pansy than her usual Slytherin bravado, but something about their little moments from when they bumped into each at the courtyard to when she visited him when he was injured had felt different and somewhat nice. "I just don't want to make things messier right now. I've got enough to deal with, you know?"
Hermione gave him a reassuring smile. "I get it. Don't worry, Harry. I won't say anything to anyone. But... just be careful, okay? You know how Slytherins can be."
Harry nodded, appreciating her support. "Thanks. I'll be careful. I just... I don't want to hurt anyone, but I don't know how to fix this either."
"You'll figure it out," Hermione said, giving him a small nudge. "Just take your time."
Harry glanced over at Pansy again, still distant and quiet at the Slytherin table. He told himself. Tomorrow, I'll figure it out.
The next day, Harry found himself even more determined to resolve things with Pansy. After what he had discussed with Hermione, the guilt from the hospital wing still weighed on him. He knew he couldn't keep avoiding her, especially not after the look on her face when he had turned down her offer.
At breakfast, the Great Hall bustled with the usual morning chatter, but Harry barely registered the noise. His eyes kept darting to the Slytherin table, searching for her. He spotted Pansy, sitting with Draco and the other Slytherins, looking just as distant as she had the day before. She didn't seem engaged in the conversation, her posture rigid and her expression unreadable.
"Are you going to talk to her today?" Hermione asked in a low voice, sitting beside him. Ron was too busy stuffing his face with bacon to notice their quiet exchange.
Harry nodded, though his stomach knotted at the thought. "Yeah. I have to."
"Good luck," Hermione said, offering him an encouraging smile before turning back to her breakfast.
Harry finished eating quickly and stood up from his table after noticing she had already left with some other Slytherins. As he made his way out of the Great Hall, his heart raced as he considered what to say, how to even begin apologizing, but he hoped she would at least listen.
It didn't take long for Pansy to appear, walking with a few other Slytherins. They were chatting among themselves, Draco in the lead, but Pansy trailed slightly behind. Noticing a pair of loud footsteps she turned around and when she saw the last person she wanted to see, she stiffened, her gaze narrowing for a split second before she quickly looked away.
"Parkinson," Harry called out before he could lose his nerve.
The group stopped giving him mixed glares of confusion and hate, and then there was Draco who was raising an eyebrow. "What do you want, Potter?" he sneered, but Harry ignored him, focusing on Pansy.
As he caught up to them his eyes were only directed towards Pansy "Can we talk? Alone?", his voice steady but calm.
Pansy hesitated, glancing between Harry and her friends. Draco looked as if he was about to say something, but Pansy cut him off with a raised hand. "I'll catch up with you later," she said, her tone indifferent.
Draco shot Harry a suspicious look but didn't argue. He and the others walked off, leaving Pansy standing there, arms crossed, her expression guarded.
"What do you want, Potter?" she asked, her voice cool but lacking its usual bite.
Harry shifted uncomfortably, trying to find the right words. "I wanted to apologize. For what I said in the hospital wing."
Pansy raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Oh? Apologizing? For what, turning me down because you're worried about what people think?"
Harry winced. "Yeah, about that... I didn't mean to make it sound like I was just worried about reputation. I just—" He paused, running a hand through his hair. "I guess I didn't expect any of this. You thanking me, wanting to hang out. I wasn't sure how to react."
Pansy watched him carefully, her expression unreadable. "And now? What's changed?"
"I thought about what you said," Harry admitted. "And Hermione helped me realize that maybe I was wrong to brush you off like that. I didn't want to hurt your feelings, but I think I did."
She smirked "Granger helped you realize that really?" She asked him which he replied with a sample nod.
"Hmm maybe she's not so bad."Pansy's lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, Harry wondered if she was going to walk away without saying anything. But then, after what felt like an eternity, she spoke.
"You did," she said simply, her voice a little softer than before. "But I'm not surprised. I knew you'd choose your Gryffindor pride over something as ridiculous as talking to a Slytherin."
Harry opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself. She wasn't wrong, at least not entirely. "Maybe. But I'm trying to fix that."
Pansy sighed, glancing down the hallway where her friends had gone. "I don't know why I even asked you, Potter. I should've known better."
"Maybe," Harry said, stepping a little closer. "But I'm glad you did."
Pansy's gaze flicked back to him, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to figure out whether he was serious. "You are?"
"Yeah," Harry said, more certain now. "Look, I'm not saying we'll be best friends or anything, but... maybe we can start over as friends maybe? Or atleast try to talk without worrying about all the house stuff."
For a long moment, Pansy just stared at him, her expression inscrutable. Then, finally, she let out a quiet laugh, though it wasn't entirely warm. "You really are something, Potter."
Harry smiled, feeling some of the tension ease. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Pansy shook her head, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "You would."
Pansy glanced down the hall again, her usual guarded look returning. "I have to get to class. But... maybe we'll talk again. Sometime soon maybe."
Harry nodded, not pushing it further. "Yeah. Maybe."
As Pansy walked away, Harry felt a strange sense of relief. He hadn't fixed everything, but he'd taken the first step. Maybe, just maybe, things between him and Pansy were starting to change.
The next few Harry found himself thinking more and more about Pansy. Though they still hadn't engaged in full on conversations, there was a still noticeable shift after they had talked to each other that day. In the way when they would pass each other in the corridors, they would give each other proper greetings occasionally such as "Morning" or "Good Afternoon" to a simple "hello" which made Harry begin to feel less uneasy around her overtime.
Hermione noticed his distraction later that afternoon as they sat in the common room, working on their homework. "You've been a bit out of it lately," she said, her quill poised above her parchment. "You're not thinking about Parkinson's are you?" Teasing him.
Harry began to blush and then quickly glanced around to make sure no one else was listening. The last thing he needed was Ron overhearing and starting a whole class about Slytherins again. "Not going to lie to you, a little. I mean, we talked, but I don't know where it goes from here."
Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "I think it's a good sign that you were able to have that conversation at all. It's not easy to break down those barriers, especially with someone like Pansy."
He smirked remembering Pansy saying his friend was not so bad. "Yeah she's... different than I expected," Harry admitted. "I mean she's still tough and everything"
Hermione smiled softly. "People are more complicated than they seem, Harry. Even Slytherins. It sounds like she might be showing you a side of herself she doesn't typically show others."
"Maybe," Harry muttered, though he wasn't sure what to make of it. He still couldn't forget how easily Pansy had withdrawn after their conversation in the hospital wing, how guarded she had become. She wasn't exactly welcoming him with open arms, and he couldn't blame her for being cautious.
Just then, Ron walked over, interrupting the conversation. "Oi, you two talking about homework? Because I'm absolutely lost on this Transfiguration essay."
Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance before Harry shook his head. "Yeah, mate. Just homework."
Later that week, during a quiet evening in the library, Harry's thoughts once again drifted to Pansy. He had stayed late to catch up on some reading for Defense Against the Dark Arts, but the flickering light from the lamps and the soft rustle of pages had him feeling restless.
As he turned another page in his textbook, a shadow fell over the table. He looked up to see none other than Pansy standing there, her arms crossed and an unreadable expression on her face.
"Potter," she said quietly, glancing around the nearly empty library.
"Parkinson," Harry replied, just as quietly. He sat up straighter, closing his book. "What's up?"
She shifted her weight slightly, clearly uncomfortable. "I... wanted to thank you again. You know, for what happened that day. With the creature."
Harry blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected her to bring it up again. "You already thanked me."
"I know." Pansy's voice was calm, but there was something deeper beneath it. "This is just part of our idea of starting over," she smirked to which he lightly chuckled. "It's just I don't usually need saving, especially not from people like you."
"People like me?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, Gryffindors," she said, a wry smirk appearing briefly on her lips. "You usually think you're the only ones who can be heroes."
Harry shook his head, smiling despite himself. "It's not about that. I'd have done the same for anyone. Even a Slytherin."
Pansy's smirk faded, and for a moment, her expression softened. "I know. That's what makes you different."
Harry didn't know how to respond to that, so he simply nodded, feeling the weight of her words settle between them. Harry couldn't deny that he felt a strange new sort of respect for her. Maybe, in a way, she respected him too.
Pansy shifted again, as if debating whether to say something else. Finally, she spoke. "Anyway, don't get any ideas. I'm not about to start sitting at the Gryffindor table or anything. But... if we talk again, it won't be the worst thing."
Harry smiled faintly, catching her meaning. "I'll take that as a win."
Pansy gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod before turning to leave. As she walked away, Harry watched her go, feeling lighter than he had in days. The gap between them wasn't completely closed, but it was narrowing, and that was enough for now.
The next day, Harry found himself in the Gryffindor common room, sitting across from Fred and George Weasley, who were both lounging in their usual carefree manner. His Nimbus 2000 had been destroyed during the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff when the Dementors had caused him to fall off his broom. The loss of his broomstick weighed on him, and he wasn't sure what to do next.
"So, Harry," Fred began, a mischievous grin on his face, "what did you want to talk to us about?"
Harry sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, It's about my broomstick thanks to those Dementors, it's gone. Completely wrecked."
"Shame, really," George chimed in, shaking his head sympathetically. "That broom had some good years left in it."
"It's not just that," Harry said, frustration creeping into his voice. "It's also the only broomstick I've ever had."
Fred exchanged a look with George, and they both leaned forward as if conspiring. "Well, Harry," Fred said, lowering his voice dramatically, "you know, if you ever need a new broom, George and I could always... 'borrow' one from the school's storage for you."
George nodded, grinning. "A Firebolt, perhaps? Or maybe a Comet 260. We're not picky."
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm not sure stealing a broom is the best idea, but thanks."
"Who said anything about stealing?" Fred said innocently, though the twinkle in his eye said otherwise. "Think of it as... redistributing underused resources or "tactically acquiring."
"Yeah, Hogwarts has so many brooms lying around," George added with a smirk. "No one would miss one for a while."
Harry laughed, appreciating their attempt to cheer him up. "I'll keep that in mind, but I'd rather not risk McGonagall's wrath. I'm in enough trouble as it is."
Fred shrugged. "Suit yourself, but if you change your mind, you know where to find us. We're always up for a good broom heist."
"Or, you know," George said, leaning back casually, "you could just wait for your mysterious admirer to send you a brand-new broom. Stranger things have happened."
Harry gave him a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"
Fred raised an eyebrow. "Oh, come on, Harry. We've seen the way the girls around here look at you. You never know, one of them might take pity on your broomless situation."
Harry shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, sure, because girls are just lining up to buy me brooms."
George smirked. "Stranger things, mate. Stranger things."
Just as they were joking around, Hermione walked over, her arms full of books as usual. She raised an eyebrow at the twins. "What are you two plotting now?"
Fred grinned. "Nothing that concerns you, Granger. We're just giving Harry some sound financial advice."
"Sound advice? From you two?" Hermione asked skeptically, glancing between them and Harry.
"Hey, we know a thing or two about broomsticks," George said, feigning offense. "We're trying to help our dear friend Potter here in his time of need."
Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled slightly. "Well, Harry, I wouldn't trust their advice too much. Besides, Professor McGonagall might have something in mind for you."
"I hope so," Harry said. "But thanks anyway, Fred, George."
"No problem, mate," Fred said, clapping him on the back. "Just remember, if you need anything, you know who to call."
As the twins sauntered off to their next mischief, Harry felt a bit lighter. His current situation wasn't resolved yet, but at least he had friends to joke with and who knew what might happen next?
Unbeknownst to Harry, Daphne was leaning against a nearby column, just out of sight. Her ears perked up at the twins' conversation. She hadn't been close to Potter, but something about his quiet frustration had caught her attention lately and then there was Pansy who had just recently talked to her about her little friendly acts to Potter after saving her life.
An idea flickered to life in Daphne's mind, and she smirked. Potter needed a new broomstick, and she knew exactly how to help her friend.
That same night, as the Gryffindor common room buzzed with laughter and chatter, Harry settled into a chair by the fire, his mind still partially on the conversation he had with Fred and George. Ron, plopping down beside him, looked slightly concerned.
"Harry, can I ask you something?" Ron said, his brow furrowed.
"Sure, what is it Ron?" Harry replied, trying to sound casual.
Ron hesitated for a moment, glancing around to make sure they were alone. "You've been a bit distant lately. I mean, more than usual. Is everything okay?"
Harry felt a twinge of guilt. He had been preoccupied, not only with his Nimbus 200 situation but also with his evolving friendship with Pansy. Keeping the truth from Ron felt increasingly difficult, but he didn't want to complicate things further.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said, forcing a smile. "Just... a lot on my mind with Quidditch and schoolwork."
Ron raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Quidditch, really? I mean, I get it, but you've never been one to let that get to you this much. Is it about your broomstick?"
Harry nodded slowly, grateful for the change of topic but still feeling the weight of his secret. "A bit. It's just annoying not having anything right now, especially with the next match coming up."
"I get that," Ron said, his expression softening. "But it's not just that, is it? You seem... I don't know, different."
Harry shrugged, trying to deflect. "It's just a phase, I guess. I've been thinking about a lot of things lately."
Ron studied him for a moment, a mixture of concern and confusion on his face. "Well, if you ever need to talk, you know I'm here, right?"
"Of course," Harry said, his heart heavy. "Thanks, Ron. I appreciate it."
Ron gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Just don't push me away, alright? We're friends ."
"Yeah, I know," Harry replied, forcing sincerity into his tone. "I won't."
As Ron got up to join Hermione and the others in a game of Wizard's Chess, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of unease. He didn't want to hide anything from Ron. With a heavy sigh, he turned his gaze back to the flickering flames, hoping that he could navigate this tangled situation without hurting anyone along the way.
The next day, Pansy sat in the Slytherin common room, chatting with her friends: Millicent Bulstrode and Daphne Greengrass. The atmosphere was relaxed, filled with the usual banter and gossip, but Pansy felt a slight disconnect. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Harry Potter and their brief conversation in the library.
"Pansy, you're awfully quiet today," Millicent remarked, nudging her. "What's going on?"
Pansy shrugged, forcing a smile. "Nothing, just thinking." Pansy shot her a look. "I'm just... contemplating life, you know?"
"Right, life," Millicent said, rolling her eyes. "More like contemplating how to deal with your sudden interest in the Gryffindor hero."
Pansy felt a slight flush rise to her cheek as she then glared at her friend Daphne with a hateful grin.
"Daphne you bloody traitor! Did you tell her everything I have told you?" Daphne smiles. "I was just trying to help." She replied.
She then looked at Millicent and quickly composed herself again and covered it with sarcasm. "You're imagining things. It's not like I've suddenly developed a crush on him or anything."
"Sure, sure," Daphne said, leaning back in her chair with an amused expression. "First he saves you and then you thank him in private, which is practically a miracle coming from you."
"I was just being polite," Pansy replied, crossing her arms defensively. "Besides, he saved my life. I could hardly ignore that."
Millicent raised an eyebrow. "Or maybe you're starting to see him in a different way." Making Daphne laugh.
Pansy sighed, looking down at her hands. "Look, I don't know what it is. I just... I don't want to be that girl who suddenly starts fawning over a Gryffindor."
"Why not?" Millicent asked, genuinely curious.
Pansy opened her mouth to retort but found herself at a loss. "I just can't. Our houses are supposed to be enemies. It complicates everything."
Daphne leaned in, her expression serious. "But You're both only just trying to figure things out."
Pansy chewed on her lower lip, considering her friends' words. She had never been one to step outside the boundaries of Slytherin expectations, but Harry's kindness had shaken something inside her. It made her question what she had always believed.
Just then, Draco Malfoy entered the common room, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. "What's all this chatter about?" he asked, eyeing the group suspiciously.
"Just discussing life and its complexities," Pansy said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her, sensing something was off. "You're not thinking of befriending any Gryffindors, are you?"
Pansy straightened, her defensiveness flaring up. "Of course not. I wouldn't lower myself to that level."
Malfoy smirked but didn't press further, instead shifting his attention elsewhere. Pansy felt a mix of relief and frustration wash over her. She didn't want Draco's influence to dictate her choices, but at the same time, she didn't want to cause unnecessary tension within her own house.
As Draco and his goons began to walk over to the seats behind them and started chatting about Quidditch, Pansy found it hard to focus. Her mind wandered back to Harry, the sincerity in his eyes when he apologized and his friendship. Maybe it was time to rethink what it meant to belong to Slytherin, and who she wanted to be.
"How about we move this conversation to the bedroom?" Suggested Daphne
"Ok" shrugged Millicent before standing up, now both of them were staring at Pansy. "Pansy?" Asked Millicent
She sighed then replied to her friend "fine but as long as we drop the subject that we were just discussing!"
Daphne with a suspicious grin leads the way.They all gathered and sat down by Daphne's bed.
"So," Daphne began casually, "you want to do something big?"
Pansy raised an eyebrow. "What kind of 'big'?"
"I overheard something the other day as a matter of fact. You know how Potter doesn't have a broomstick for the next match." Pansy and Millicent both nodded. "Well the Weasley twins were planning on sneaking him one, but... what if you bought him one Pansy?"
Pansy's eyes widened, her posture suddenly alert. "Why would I do that?"
Daphne smirked. "Think about it. Imagine him winning a game, riding a broom that you 'gifted' him. Not to mention... he might actually appreciate it."
Millicent gasped before saying "Pansy, I think you should."
Pansy blinked, considering. The idea seemed absurd at first, but the more she thought about it, the more the idea intrigued her. She could already imagine the face on Potter.
"He'd never believe it," Pansy said, trying to sound indifferent.
"He doesn't need to believe it," Daphne countered. "You just need to make it convincing."
"I guess I could owl my father to buy him one but...I'll just say..it's for Draco!"
"Brilliant thinking Pans", said Millicent and receiving a proud smirk from Daphne.
"Just give me a few days," said Pansy.
The weekend came and mysterious package was left behind an old statue of Gregory the Smarmy by the Gryffindor Tower noticed by Seamus Finnigan with a darkened face with his hair spiked and Dean Thomas returning from Potions class.
A few minutes before Pansy and Daphne had carefully placed the broom, wrapped in simple green paper, and hurried back to the dungeons with their part of the plan complete.
"Bet I could get a good deal on some of Zonko's supplies in Hogsmeade," Seamus was saying, grinning. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve for Fred and George."
Dean laughed. "Better be careful. You don't want them turning you into a Canary again."
As they passed the statue of Gregory the Smarmy, Dean's eyes caught something out of place. He stopped short. "Hold on a minute... What's this?"
Seamus followed his gaze and saw the odd-shaped package propped behind the statue. He nudged Dean, intrigued. "You reckon someone left that there on purpose?"
Dean scratched his head. "Weird place to leave something, isn't it?"
The two exchanged glances, curiosity getting the better of them. Seamus crouched down, pulling at the corner of the green wrapping, revealing the unmistakable glint of broomstick wood.
"No way!" Seamus said, eyes widening. "It's a broom!"
"A good one, too," Dean added, his tone impressed. "Not just some old school broom, this is a top-notch Firebolt."
"Who's leaving this lying around near the common room?" Seamus asked, bewildered. "It's practically an invitation for someone to nick it."
Dean laughed. "Maybe someone's pranking Harry."
Seamus grinned, an idea sparking. "Or maybe someone's trying to *woo* Harry. You know, mysterious gift, expensive broom… Think it's some secret admirer?"
Dean raised an eyebrow. "Now that you mention it, Harry's been talking about not having a broom after the Whomping Willow destroyed his Nimbus 2000."
Seamus gave a mischievous look. "Should we give it to him or let him stumble on it?"
"Let's give him a bit of a surprise," Dean said, clearly enjoying the mystery. "C'mon, let's bring it in."
Grabbing the broom, the two of them headed into the common room. As they stepped inside, they spotted Harry sitting near the fire talking to Ron.
Seamus strolled up with a dramatic flair, holding the broom aloft like a grand prize. "Oi, Harry! Someone's left you a little something by the statue outside."
Harry looked up, confused. "What? A broomstick?"
Dean nodded, barely containing his amusement. "Not just any broom, mate. Looks like this one's meant for you. We found it stashed outside."
Seamus handed it over, and Harry peeled off the rest of the wrapping, revealing a sleek, expertly crafted broom. He stared at it, completely taken aback.
"Where did you say you found it?" Harry asked, examining the broom as if it might vanish any second.
"Right outside, behind Gregory the Smarmy," Seamus said with a wink. "Seems like someone's got a soft spot for you, Harry."
Harry's brow furrowed. "Who would—?"
Dean cut him off, smirking. "No note, no name. Just the broom."
Harry blinked, still trying to wrap his head around the mystery. He hadn't mentioned needing a broom to anyone besides his friends and teammates. Maybe it had been Fred and George talking about acquiring him a broomstick.
"Could be from one of the Weasleys," Seamus said, nudging Harry with a grin.
Just then George and Fred had returned from some buffoonery outside and looked at Harry's present in surprise.
"Nice piece Harry, whered you get that?" Asked Fred
"Wait you two had nothing to do with this?"
"Nope," replied George
Dean then snorted at the idea
"Well, whoever it was," Dean said, clearly enjoying the mystery, "they've got good taste."
Harry chuckled despite his confusion, looking down at the broom in his hands. "I guess I'll find out sooner or later.
Harry decided that, for now, he would take the gift for what it was a lifeline before the next big match. Still, the question hung in the air, just like Seamus' teasing grin: Was it really just a good deed, or was someone trying to catch Harry Potter's attention?
Harry looked at his sleek new broomstick, faster and more elegant than his old Nimbus 2000. Attached to it was a small note:
"For the best Seeker in Gryffindor."
No name, no signature.
"I say just keep it hidden for now mate, the last thing we want is McGonagall or even Hermione making a big deal about it being cursed on you or something." Ron told Harry cautiously
The next day, Harry and Ron were lounging by the lake, enjoying the fresh air. Ron munched on a Chocolate Frog while Harry flipped through his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook.
As they relaxed, Ginny Weasley approached, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Hey, Harry! Mind if I join you?" she asked, plopping down beside him.
"Sure, Ginny," Harry replied, smiling.
"Not much, just thought I'd hang out," she said, leaning closer. "Since Ron's hogging all the attention."
Ron rolled his eyes dramatically. "Yeah, right. Because I'm the one trying to get noticed."
Ginny snared at Ron before leaning in on Harry, clearly enjoying herself making him super uncomfortable. Nearby, Pansy and Daphne sat on a bench, watching the scene unfold.
"Look at her," Daphne said, a teasing smile on her face. "She's trying really hard to get closer to him."
Pansy felt a twinge of irritation, though she masked it with a nonchalant expression. "So what? She can do what she wants."
Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure that's how you feel? Because you look a bit... infuriated."
"I'm not mad," Pansy retorted, crossing her arms. "It's just amusing to see."
"Amusing, huh?" Daphne nudged her playfully. "You wouldn't be feeling jealous, would you?"
Pansy shrugged, attempting to remain indifferent. "Why would I be? It's Harry Potter. He can have his fun."
As Ginny leaned closer to Harry, her laughter ringing out, Pansy felt an urge to look away, but something kept her watching. She wasn't mad; maybe Daphne's right she might be feeling just a bit jealous but she'll never admit it to her."
Daphne chuckled, noticing Pansy's gaze. "Maybe you should talk to him again. You did tell me you did well in the library."
Pansy hesitated, considering the idea. But the thought of approaching them, especially with Ginny there, felt daunting. "No thanks. I'm not ready to approach him when he's with company, especially those…Weasleys!"
Daphne nodded knowingly, not pushing further. "Just remember, it's okay to want to connect with him. You don't have to hide it."
Pansy sighed, still watching the trio by the lake. "Maybe I will again someday, just not today."
That following evening, Pansy and Daphne strolled through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, the echoes of their footsteps filling the air as they made their way back to the Slytherin common room.
"I still can't believe you didn't just talk to him," Daphne said, nudging Pansy playfully. "You had the perfect opportunity by the lake."
Pansy rolled her eyes but couldn't hide a smile. "Yeah right and get chewed up by Weasley and the other little Weaslette!?" She scoffed, "Merlin..these damn feelings I tell you, it's pissing me off."
"Feelings, huh?" Daphne teased. "So you really have feel-"
Just then, as they turned a corner, they bumped into someone unexpectedly. Pansy looked up to find herself face-to-face with Harry Potter, who was walking with Ron. Ginny was already long gone after Harry telling her that he needed to go do some work which Ron just followed along with.
"Sorry!" Pansy exclaimed, stepping back. Harry's expression shifted from surprise to a friendly smile, while Ron merely frowned.
"No problem," Harry replied. "Didn't see you there."
Daphne flashed a grin at Harry. "Fancy meeting you here, Potter."
"Greenhouse" Harry said, glancing between the two girls then looked at Pansy. "What are you up to?"
"Just heading back to the common room," Pansy said, her heart racing slightly. She could feel Ron's eyes on her, filled with skepticism.
"Right," Ron said, crossing his arms. "You're not plotting anything, are you?"
Pansy shot him a look, irritation bubbling up. "What do you mean?"
"Just making sure," Ron replied curtly, his tone cold.
Harry shot Ron a warning glance but then turned back to Pansy. "We were just talking about the upcoming Quidditch match. You should come watch." Harry hesitated for a moment, but then decided add on. "I, uh… I know it's a rivalry match, but… you should come to the game. Should be a good one."
Her eyebrows shot up, clearly not expecting an invitation from him of all people. "You're inviting me to watch Slytherin beat Gryffindor? Bold move, Potter."
Harry shrugged, trying to play it off. "Yeah, well… It'll be a fun match either way. Thought you might want to see it."
Pansy gave him a lingering look, as if she were trying to figure out his angle. Then she smirked. "I'll think about it."
Ron looked more perplexed at his best friend casually interacting with a Slytherin, while Daphne was shocked that Potter had practically invited her friend to watch him play in front of her and Weasley, who already appeared to despise all Slytherins but was also happy for Pansy.
"Yeah, if you're interested," Harry added, glancing at Ron, who remained stony-faced.
As the silence stretched, Ron shifted impatiently. "We should get going," he said abruptly, starting to turn away.
"Right, see you around," Harry said quickly, shooting Pansy a friendly smile before following Ron.
As they walked on, Pansy let out a sigh, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "What was that about?" she said to Daphne.
Daphne shrugged. "Weasley's just being a git. You handled it well, though. Just keep being yourself."
Pansy shook her head, still feeling unsettled. "It's just hard. I don't know how to navigate this."
"You'll figure it out," Daphne said reassuringly. "Just don't let Weasley ruin things for you besides Potter seemed happy about the Quidditch match." Pansy nodded at her "yeah he did."
"It could be because of your little gift you gave him hmm." She teased her
"Ughh leave me alone for a minute." Replied Pansy
Daphne just began to laugh "just messing with you Pans."
As they continued down the corridor, Pansy felt a mix of uncertainty of the Quidditch rivalry game.
As Harry and Ron walked away from Pansy and Daphne, Ron couldn't contain his irritation any longer. "What was that about, Harry?" he said, turning to face him. "You were being all friendly with them."
Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I was just being polite, Ron. It's not a crime to talk to Slytherins."
"But casually inviting Parkinson to the Quidditch match? Really?" Ron replied, incredulous. "Are you forgetting what they're like?"
"Look, I get that there's a rivalry, but Pan-Parkinson isn't the same as the others. She's not all bad," Harry insisted, recalling their conversations.
Ron shook his head, clearly frustrated. "She's still a Slytherin, Harry. You can't just ignore that. They're not our friends."
"I know that," Harry said, his voice firm. "But we don't have to treat them like enemies all the time. Not everyone is like Malfoy."
"Maybe not, but it's dangerous to let your guard down. You remember what they're like, right?" Ron said, crossing his arms.
"Yeah, but we can't just keep fighting all the time," Harry replied. "I mean, she did visit me when I was in the hospital wing."
Ron raised an eyebrow. "Wait..wait…WHAT? She visited you? So you're just gonna be friendly with just because she was nice for a minute? Are you are you..ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!? Have you forgotten any-
"I'm not forgetting anything. I just think we could be a bit more open-minded," Harry said, frustration bubbling to the surface.
Ron sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I just don't get it, mate.You're playing a risky game."
"I'll handle it," Harry said, trying to defuse the situation. "I know what I'm doing."
"Fine, but just remember, they aren't to be trusted," Ron said, his voice sharp as they continued down the corridor, the tension hanging in the air between them.
It was the day of the Quidditch Match. As Pansy stood on the sidelines, her heart raced with excitement and nerves. The Slytherin crowd buzzed around her, the green and silver banners fluttering in the brisk autumn wind. She could see the Gryffindor players warming up on the opposite side, and her gaze instinctively darted to Harry Potter. He was focused, adjusting his broom with determination, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of admiration.
"Are you even paying attention?" Daphne nudged her, snapping Pansy back to the moment.
"Of course," Pansy replied, trying to sound casual. She could feel the pressure of the rivalry all around her, the Slytherin cheers ringing out as their team took to the air.
As the game began, Pansy watched with bated breath. The Quaffle was tossed into the air, and immediately, the Slytherin team surged forward, chasing after it. Pansy cheered with the rest of her house, trying to push aside the nagging feeling that her focus should be elsewhere.
But the more she watched, the more she couldn't help but analyze the tension between Harry and Draco Malfoy, who was clearly out for blood. Pansy's heart raced as the two teams clashed in the sky, the stakes high and emotions even higher.
High above the pitch, Harry felt the rush of wind against his face as he maneuvered his new Firebolt through the air. He could hear the roar of the crowd, the chants from both Gryffindor and Slytherin echoing in his ears. His focus narrowed to the game, but the rivalry felt palpable, especially as he caught sight of Draco Malfoy gliding effortlessly nearby.
"Just stay on him, Harry!" Ron shouted from the sidelines, his voice barely audible over the cheers. Harry nodded, gripping his broom tighter. He could see the Bludgers flying past, and he had to stay sharp.
As the game progressed, Harry kept an eye on the Golden Snitch, his heart racing with anticipation. Malfoy, meanwhile, was like a shadow, always close, always competitive. They had a history—one that made this moment even more charged. Every time Harry looked over, Malfoy would smirk, trying to get under his skin.
"Catch the Snitch, Potter!" Malfoy taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Or do you need a little help?"
Harry clenched his jaw, feeling the adrenaline surge through him. He was determined not to let Malfoy's words distract him. He soared higher, scanning the sky, searching for the glint of gold. And then, there was a flash of movement just off to the right.
"Got you," he muttered under his breath, zeroing in on the Snitch.
As he dove toward it, he could feel Malfoy right behind him, pushing to catch up. The wind whipped past him, and every muscle in his body tensed with concentration. He dodged a Bludger, narrowly escaping, and his heart raced as he shot toward the Snitch.
In those final moments, everything slowed. The world around him faded as he reached out, fingers outstretched, ready to grab victory. He could hear the cheers of the Gryffindor crowd, a distant roar, and then-
He felt the small, familiar weight in his hand.
"YES!" he shouted, pulling up sharply to avoid crashing. He glanced back, seeing Malfoy's frustrated expression. It felt incredible like winning a battle. As the crowd erupted into cheers, Harry had no idea what to think. As he flew around the pitch slicing through the air like a knife, he couldn't help but glance at the Slytherin stands. His eyes met Pansy's for a moment, proud. Was it from her that gave him the Firebolt? Or was this all a strange coincidence?
Either way, it worked. Harry caught the Snitch, and the Gryffindor stands exploded in cheers. And down below, Pansy sat with an amused, secretive smile, knowing her little heist was a success.
Pansy and Daphne then stood up and began to exit the sidelines ignoring all the boos and chants about Potter. Her face was mixed with emotions.
The next day, the tension between Harry and Draco reached a boiling point outside the Great Hall. Students gathered, eager to witness the confrontation that everyone could feel brewing. Harry stood with his back against the stone wall, arms crossed, while Draco paced back and forth, eyes narrowed.
"You think you're untouchable, Potter? Just because you caught the Snitch doesn't mean you're better than everyone else," Draco spat, his voice low but heated.
Harry shrugged, unfazed. "I'm not the one acting like a spoiled brat. Maybe if you focused more on your game than on bullying others, you wouldn't be so frustrated."
As their words escalated, Pansy caught sight of them from a distance. Her heart raced; she knew she had to intervene before it got out of hand. She pushed through the crowd, calling out, "Draco! Stop it!"
But just as she reached them, Draco turned sharply, his arm flailing as he gestured in frustration. Pansy tried to dodge, but it was too late she collided with his elbow, staggering back and losing her balance. In a split second, she fell hard to the ground, pain shooting through her ankle.
Harry quickly rushed to her side. Draco's expression morphed from anger to shock as he realized what had happened.
"What did you do?" Pansy groaned, trying to sit up and wincing at the sharp pain radiating from her ankle.
"I—I didn't mean to!" Draco stammered, looking genuinely concerned for a moment.
Harry knelt beside her, his demeanor shifting completely. "Are you okay? Can you move it?" He glanced at Draco, frustration still simmering beneath the surface. "This is why you shouldn't be so reckless."
Pansy gritted her teeth, fighting back the embarrassment. "I'll be fine," she insisted, though the pain was more than she'd expected. "I just need a minute."
"No, you need to get that checked out," Harry said firmly, glancing around at the crowd that had gathered, whispering and watching. "I'll take you to the Hospital Wing."
"I don't need your help, Potter," she replied, trying to regain her composure that they're not friendly in front of everybody. But even as she said it, the throbbing pain made it clear that she might not have a choice.
"Whether you like it or not, you're going," Harry insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument. He offered her a hand, and after a moment of hesitation, she took it.
Draco watched, irritation flashing across his face. "This isn't over, Potter"
Harry shot him a glare, helping Pansy to her feet as she winced again. "Just stay out of it, Malfoy. This is about Pansy right now."
Pansy felt a strange mix of gratitude and frustration. "I'm fine," she repeated, though the sincerity was fading. Harry's presence was unexpectedly comforting, even amidst the chaos.
As they started to walk toward the Hospital Wing, Pansy leaned on Harry for support.
Harry shot a final glare back at Draco before focusing on Pansy. "Let's just get you checked out. You shouldn't be limping around like this."
Pansy couldn't help but feel a flicker of warmth at Harry's concern, even if the circumstances were far from ideal. She sighed, a mix of annoyance and appreciation swirling within her. "I guess I'll have to thank you later for this, Potter."
"Don't mention it," Harry replied, a small smile creeping onto his face as they made their way to the Hospital Wing, the echoes of their rivalry momentarily set aside for the sake of something more important.
As they arrived at the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey was quick to assess Pansy's injury. "What happened?" she asked, her tone brisk as she helped Pansy onto one of the beds.
"I tripped," Pansy muttered, avoiding Harry's gaze. "It was an accident."
Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow but said nothing as she examined Pansy's ankle. "You'll be fine, but it's bruised. I'll give you a potion for the pain and I'll have to bandage it for now so you Potter can help her sit on this chair."
Harry without question helped Pansy to the nearby chair, feeling a bit out of place as Madam Pomfrey worked her magic. He watched as she wrapped Pansy's ankle in a bandage, ensuring she was comfortable and then left her alone to rest for a while.
"Thanks for coming with me," Pansy said quietly, glancing at Harry. There was a vulnerability in her voice that surprised him.
"Of course," he replied, offering a reassuring smile. "You didn't have to do this alone."
Then Harry turned toward the door. "I should probably head back—"
"Wait," Pansy interrupted, surprising herself with her own urgency. "Could you… stay for a bit?"
Harry paused, looking back at her. It was reminiscent of when she had visited him in the Hospital Wing after the Dementor attack, and he felt a strange sense of connection. "Yeah, sure," he said, returning to her side.
Pansy glanced down, her cheeks slightly flushed. "I know it can be difficult, but… I appreciate you being here."
Harry nodded, feeling the weight of the moment. "It's no problem, really. I mean it's not like we're enemies"."
"Maybe not," Pansy said softly, meeting his gaze. "But sometimes it feels like that."
They shared a moment of silence, the air between them charged with unspoken understanding. Pansy shifted slightly, trying to find the right words. "I didn't mean for things to get so complicated."
"Neither did I," Harry admitted.
Pansy just stayed silent, her heart racing.
Harry smiled, and for a moment, the tension from earlier faded away. "So, how about we just sit here for a while? just… talking."
Pansy nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. "I'd like that."
As they sat together, the initial awkwardness slowly melted away. Pansy began to share snippets about her life. "I enjoy herbology," she said, a hint of pride in her voice. "There's something satisfying about nurturing plants and watching them grow."
Harry nodded, genuinely interested. "I've heard you're quite good at it. I'm more of a Quidditch person myself, but I've always admired how you can just… make things thrive."
Pansy smiled, her cheeks warming slightly. "It's a different kind of magic. What about you? Besides Quidditch, what do you enjoy?"
"I like exploring the castle, honestly. There are so many hidden places," he replied, his eyes lighting up. "And I'm a huge fan of the Wizarding World's history. It's fascinating."
As they talked, Harry's gaze drifted to Pansy's face, noticing a smudge of dirt on her cheek from when she fell. Without thinking, he reached out and gently brushed it away with his thumb.
"Hold still," he said softly, his voice almost a whisper.
Pansy froze, her heart racing at the unexpected contact. The gesture felt surprisingly intimate. "Thanks," she replied, trying to maintain her composure. "I guess I'm not exactly graceful today."
"Don't worry about it. We all have our moments," Harry said, his tone lightening.
Pansy laughed, the tension easing further. "That's true. Like that one time you fell off your broom during practice."
Harry rubbed his neck, remembering. "Y-you saw that?
"Yeah it was pretty funny," she said, smiling. "But I suppose we both have our embarrassing moments."
As they continued talking, the connection between them deepened. They shared stories about their families, their dreams, and what they hoped to achieve at Hogwarts. Each revelation felt like peeling back layers, revealing more than just their house loyalties.
Harry looked at Pansy, feeling an unexpected sense of comfort. "I'm glad I stayed," he admitted, a genuine smile on his face.
"Me too," she replied, her heart fluttering at the sincerity in his words.
As their conversation drew to a close, Harry glanced at the clock on the wall. He knew he should be heading back soon, but part of him wanted to linger a little longer.
"Thanks for staying,Pot-"
She clears her throat then says "Harry. It really meant a lot," Pansy said, her voice soft.
He smiled, the warmth of their exchange filling the room. "Anytime. I'm glad I could help."
Just as he turned to leave, Pansy felt a surge of gratitude and courage. She stood up and before she could second-guess herself, she grabbed his robes and leaned forward pressing a quick kiss on his cheek then sat down again.
"Just a little thank you," she said, her cheeks flushing as she pulled back, her heart racing at the spontaneity of her action.
Harry's eyes widened in surprise, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. "Um.. you're welcome," he stammered, a smile creeping across his face.
Pansy bit her lip, feeling both exhilarated and embarrassed. "I'll see you around," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Definitely," Harry replied, a warm smile lingering as he stepped out of the Hospital Wing, his mind buzzing with the unexpected moment. As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling that things had shifted between them in a way he hadn't anticipated.
