special chapter today! :)
tw : emetophobia (is it just me or everybody wants to vomit in this fic?), references to sex
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Pansy
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Pansy Parkinson was many things.
She was observant. She was passionate. She could be ungrateful. Rude. Some said she was pretty. She was cynical. Draco once called her a spoiled brat. She was talented, in some ways. She could identify many stars, and read predictions in teacups. She got anxious sometimes. Often. Theo had once called her depressed.
One thing was certain, Pansy Parkinson was certainly not stupid.
She wasn't as cultured as Theo, or as clever as Blaise, or as intelligent as Draco. But Pansy Parkinson was not stupid.
She took a long drag on her cigarette until her throat burned. She was alone in the Common Room. She had no idea what time it was, but it must have been at least 3am, because everyone had been gone for hours. Blaise had snuck into Daphne's dormitory with her, giggling like an idiot.
As if no one had understood what they were about to do.
It was her seventh cigarette of the evening. The ashtray that Theo had given her was resting precariously on the arm of the sofa, full of burnt cigarette butts. She had taken off her Ball gown, which now formed a pathetic pile of pink lace on the floor, and was dressed only in knickers and a t-shirt she had found in the Common Room. It wasn't Draco's, because it didn't smell like him, and she hated herself for knowing his smell well enough to know whether it was his t-shirt or not.
She was lying completely back on the sofa, so she could barely see over the backrest to get a glimpse of the dormitories. She'd only kept three things with her: her packet of cigarettes in her left hand, her wand resting on her stomach, and the photo she'd taken with Draco at the photo station, in her right hand.
Pansy was looking at the photo. It was covered in tears. They were beautiful. He had the smile she loved, the one where you could see his teeth, and he was encircling her waist with his arm, a little harder every time the photo started to move again.
Pansy Parkinson wasn't stupid.
She was in denial. She had thought, for a few delirious months, that Draco might be in love with her. That he had realised, as she had, that their childhood friendship had given rise to unsuspected feelings between them. That he had become as attached to her as she was to him.
That perhaps they had always been destined for each other.
But that hope was finally extinguished. In the space of a few seconds, Pansy's world had collapsed.
Hermione Granger.
When she had come down the steps, resplendent, naturally pretty, phenomenal, and Pansy had turned to Draco to share a reaction with him, because that was how they had always lived: when one saw something outrageous, they naturally turned to the other. Pansy was always looking for Draco when something out of the ordinary happened to her, and he was always there to share a giggle, or round his eyes to show his surprise.
Like the time Dobby had caught his tea towel in his legs and fallen over in front of all Narcissa Malfoy's guests, and they'd had to contain their giggles.
Or like the time when her cousin had learned a spell to explode objects, and it had ricocheted and destroyed the chandelier in the drawing room of the Manor.
Or the time Blaise had told them that his third stepfather had died.
Or when Theo was reading Muggle books.
She always turned to him.
But this time, he hadn't turned to her. He'd kept his eyes fixed on Granger, dumbstruck, his eyelids rounded, completely fascinated by her. He had watched her descend step by step, his mouth slightly ajar, and all the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle in Pansy's mind had suddenly come together.
Because Draco had never looked at her like that.
All those unanswered questions. Why Draco had been acting strangely lately, why he'd wandered off, why he'd disappeared for hours at a time without warning, why he'd forgotten her birthday.
"It's Granger, she's getting on my nerves. I can hear her voice next to me and it's making it hard for me to concentrate!"
"I'm sure it was Granger who fixed his hand."
"Do you know why Granger and Weasley aren't talking anymore?"
"What about Granger? I heard Weasley say she had a date."
"I promise I'm going to make Hermione Granger suffer. Even worse, I promise I'm going to destroy her."
Pansy had taken it all in, as if someone had entered her brain to highlight everything she'd missed. Everything she hadn't seen.
In the space of a few seconds, a movement of the head, a look, her heart had broken.
Draco couldn't be in love with her. Because he was already in love with Hermione Granger.
Pansy let out a strangled sob and choked on her cigarette. To soothe her cough, she reached for Blaise's bottle of Butterbeer and took a sip. Her throat was too anaesthetised by tobacco and alcohol to feel anything.
She had never been so miserable in her life. She had never felt this pain. This gaping wound in her heart that she couldn't reach. She couldn't soothe it with a potion, or a spell, she was forced to feel it over and over again, preventing her from thinking of anything other than the fucking look on Draco's face as Granger came down the stairs.
It was the first time she'd seen him do that. Still, she was very observant. She'd spent whole days with him and he'd never let the slightest reaction slip that might have shown his attraction for her. He had always insulted her, religiously hated her, belittled her and called her a Mudblood. When had that changed?
Hot ashes fell onto her bare thigh but she didn't brush them away. She was too exhausted to make the slightest movement, other than putting the cigarette to her mouth and inhaling. It was the only remedy that soothed her pain a little.
Granger wasn't even pretty. Her hair was always badly combed. She held herself strangely, because her bags were too heavy. Her voice was unbearable, full of contempt. Her teeth used to be too long, making her look like a beaver. She was dirty, impure, insignificant.
Why her?
Why not Pansy? Why Granger?
She pondered this question over and over, gazing unseeing at the windows overlooking the Black Lake. Occasionally, a strange creature would pass by and darken the dim light in the room for a moment, but Pansy no longer paid any attention to it.
When her cigarette had reached the filter, spilling a bitter taste into her mouth, she crushed it against the edge of the ashtray and immediately lit another. Her pack was starting to shrink, and she didn't have much left. She grunted and raised her wand to light the end, then inhaled for the umpteenth time, and spat out the grey smoke around her.
At that moment, the silence in which she had been immersed for several hours broke when she heard the whistle of someone coming out of the girls' dormitory. It was Blaise; she recognised him easily, because he had this annoying habit of whistling when he was happy.
He arrived in the Common Room and stopped when he saw her. He didn't seem particularly surprised to see her there so late.
"Insomnia?" he asked as he approached the sofa.
"Daphne?" she asked, full of sarcasm.
Blaise chuckled and shrugged with a smirk.
"Yeah."
"Finally." said Pansy, tapping her fag against the ashtray. "She's been talking about nothing but you since September. I called her an obsessive."
"She can be... Persuasive." said Blaise, and Pansy winced.
"Ugh. I don't want to hear about your sex stories, Zabini. Besides, I'm going to get her side of the story first thing in the morning, with lots of details that are going to take me years of therapy to erase."
Blaise's smile deepened and he took his place on the sofa with her. She pushed up her bare legs and he took her ankles and placed them on his thighs.
"Can I have one?" he asked, pointing to Pansy's packet.
Pansy opened it and handed him a cigarette, then lit it with her wand. Blaise rested his head back on the rim and exhaled the smoke with a satisfied sigh.
"Cigarettes after sex." she said with the shadow of a smile. "The best."
"Hmm." he said evasively, enjoying the exquisite sensation of the first puff of smoke in his lungs.
They didn't speak for a few minutes. Blaise must have seen her swollen, red eyes and the half-opened bottle of alcohol on the floor, but he said nothing. She loved Blaise for that. Theo would have jumped, panicked, asked a hundred questions. Blaise wasn't like that. He let her get on with it, while silently supporting her. She needed him desperately tonight. His constant calm managed to calm her too.
Very often during the night, Pansy would wake up in Draco's bed. She didn't really have nightmares, but she woke up all the same. Sometimes with a start. In those moments, even Draco's breathing next to her and his comforting smell couldn't put her back to sleep.
So she always ended up getting up to go and have a cigarette in the Common Room. She loved the silence. And almost every time, Blaise would come with her. Sometimes they didn't even speak to each other, they just exchanged a cigarette. They called them the silent cigarettes.
Aware that the other was having insomnia, but without asking why. They simply shared a moment, in secret.
And every time, Pansy managed to go back to sleep afterwards.
She didn't really know if it was because of the cigarette or because of Blaise. Maybe it was both.
When she got halfway through her cigarette, she leaned over to take another sip of whisky. Her head was all cottony now, as if the alcohol had wrapped her brain in cotton wool, slowing it down considerably. She loved that feeling.
She offered the bottle to Blaise, who declined with a wave of his hand.
They wrapped themselves in a comforting silence tinged with cigarette smoke. Pansy watched Blaise smoke slowly, each gesture calculated, his eyes lost in emptiness. She thought back to the look on Draco's face earlier and the wound in her heart opened wider.
"Blaise, can I ask you a question?" she asked, pinching her cigarette between her fingers.
"Of course you can." he replied calmly, without looking at her.
"Why Granger?"
She blamed it on the whisky. Saying her name out loud was so painful that she was forced to spit it out. Blaise turned to her and plunged his caramel eyes into Pansy's. The fact that he wasn't surprised by the question confirmed her fears.
"Is she the reason you're drinking?" he asked, pointing to the bottle beside her.
"Maybe."
He gauged her silently, and that irritated her. She felt like screaming or crying, not being watched like that.
"No but seriously." continued Pansy, repositioning herself in the sofa so that she was in a sitting position. "What does she have that I don't?"
"Nothing at all." replied Blaise instantly.
"Theo said he thought she was beautiful. In second year, remember?" she said, ignoring Blaise's remark. "He said he thought she was beautiful, but she's not. She's a nerd who hangs out with dubious people. She's a Mudblood, the kind of person we've always been forbidden to go near. So why her?"
"You don't think it's because they've always been forbidden to get close to them that there's an interest in her?" offered Blaise.
Pansy considered this.
"Maybe."
He rested his cheek against the edge of the sofa without taking his eyes off Pansy. Blaise always wore a mask to disguise his emotions, and she had only glimpsed cracks a few times. Anger, mainly. But this was like... pity.
"I've always done the right thing." she said, and realised she was crying because her voice was shaking with sobs. "I did what I was told to do. I obeyed my father. I turned into this perfect girl, and pretty, and prim, and wise, without even knowing what I really was. He helped me find it. My personality."
She didn't want to say Draco's name, at the risk of the sobs she was keeping in her throat exploding and making her cry without stopping. She continued, her tongue still heavy from the alcohol:
"With him, I was free. I'm free. He was the first person I confided in. The person I wanted to see when I got up in the morning. One day I realised I only felt that way about him. And I realised it was love. I thought he was like me. That we still felt the same way, like we had for years, like we shared the same brain. And tonight, I..."
She stopped to hold back the tears. She mustn't let herself go. Instead, she took a sip of whisky, and Blaise made no comment.
"I thought I was enough. That my real personality was what he liked. Not my father's Pureblood, not the false image I created, the real Pansy. The real me. But no. He never... I'm not..."
Pansy paused, swearing through gritted teeth, unable to hold back the tremors in her voice. It was pathetic. Crying about it. She wiped her eyes shamefully and hesitated to look at Blaise, who was probably laughing at her inside.
"He loves you, Pans'." said Blaise.
She looked up. His eyebrows were furrowed and he had moved closer to her, as if trying to judge whether she would push his hand away.
"He loves you, but he doesn't love you the way you'd like him to. He's tried, believe me."
"Why her, Blaise? Why her, of all girls?"
"I don't know." he answered earnestly. "I don't understand it either. I prefer you."
She rolled her eyes and answered with a gasp between her teeth, which might have sounded like a bitter laugh. Blaise frowned even more and moved closer to her on the sofa:
"No, Pans'. Listen to me. I know I'm not... who you want me to be, that my opinion doesn't count. But I prefer you. The real Pansy, the one who has no problem saying what she thinks, who dresses the way she wants, and not because someone ordered her to wear something. I love the Pansy who can't stop laughing. Who falls asleep curled up anywhere. Who defends Astronomy and Divination as if she'd invented them, and who talks about them with stars in her eyes. I love you, you know that, don't you?"
Pansy felt her shoulders shake, she was about to burst into tears. She took one last drag of her cigarette and crushed it against the ashtray, then tightened her arms around her legs in an attempt to comfort herself.
"Why doesn't he love me, Blaise?" she struggled to articulate.
"If you're asking yourself that question, he doesn't deserve to love you at all, Pans'. You should be with someone who loves you for everything I've just said. You feel something for him because he's the person you're most comfortable with. Wouldn't you rather be with someone who loves you for who you are?"
"I love him." she breathed softly.
"I know you love him. It'll pass." replied Blaise, gently stroking her arm.
"What's wrong with me?"
He pondered the question without ceasing his caresses on Pansy's pale arm.
"I think we grew up too fast."
She gave him a look of incomprehension and he explained in his calm, collected tone:
"We're all having problems, Pans', all four of us. Draco, Theo, you and me. I've never had a father. I spent my childhood wondering which of the men my mother introduced me to was the one to replace the void in my heart. None of them succeeded. Theo grew up with a violent father who, despite his best efforts, never perverted his all-too-pure soul. He saw his mother die in front of his eyes and still cries at night. Draco has believed all his life in the bullshit his parents taught him, and now that he has to make his own decisions, he's lost and feels like he's betraying them. And you... you grew up without your mum, with a dad who never gave you an ounce of love, when that's all you deserve."
Pansy's eyes went wide as she listened to Blaise, her heart had stopped beating. The only thing keeping her from moving in shock was Blaise's gentle hand against her skin. He continued gently, as if not to break her if he spoke too loudly:
"You've spent your life trying to perfect yourself to fit into a mould that wasn't your own. And when you realise that the image you project is not the one you want, you give in to things that give you comfort. Alcohol. Cigarettes. Draco..."
The last word hit her in the gut and she felt her eyes burn. Her vision blurred, she breathed oddly, half choking. With difficulty, she caught sight of Blaise, who was also putting out his cigarette. She fumbled with her hand for the bottle of alcohol, but Blaise took it before she could grab it and set it down beside him.
"Come here. You'll feel better, Pans'. Come here."
She obeyed as her friend stretched out his arms towards her. She clung to him like a lifeline and nestled her head between Blaise's shoulder and neck, which gave off that comforting amber scent. He hugged her tightly, so tightly that her ribcage was pressed against his chest and their breaths mingled together.
He ran one hand down her back, the other stroking her hair. She savoured the touch with a sigh of satisfaction. She didn't want to leave. Her whole body relaxed.
Blaise's voice echoed just against her ear:
"You have the right to cry. Nobody's going to stop you. You're safe here. You can cry. Just let yourself go. I won't tell anyone. I promise."
As if he'd just said a password, Pansy's whole head went blank and she let herself cry. At first they were hot tears on her cheeks, then her body shook with uncontrollable tremors and she found herself sobbing with all her strength against Blaise's shoulder. She shivered and he tightened his arms more and more, and the hold he created was so comforting that she cried even more. She was almost choking, as if her heart had suddenly found its way to the edge of her lips.
Blaise said nothing, but kept stroking her back. He didn't try to comfort her or keep her quiet. He let her cry as much as she wanted. She cried for Draco. She cried for Theo, seeing those long cuts on his arms and his skin covered in blood. She cried for her father, the cold, insipid man who never looked at her. She wept for her mother. Her abandonment. Something she didn't allow herself to think about.
She cried for so long that when she stopped, and the silence of the Common Room returned, she had become too used to the sounds of her own sobs. She rested her chin on Blaise's shoulder. He continued to caress her back, and when she calmed down and tried to breathe normally again, he rocked her gently.
Finally, she let go of him. She positioned herself in front of him and suddenly felt embarrassed at having cried so much.
"Thank you Blaise, it's been a long time since I've had... that. I really needed it."
He nodded and handed her a handkerchief. Then he tucked one of her tear-soaked black locks behind her ear.
"You're not sleeping with Daphne tonight?" she asked, blowing her nose.
He shook his head.
"No, I left thinking you'd like to sleep there."
She certainly didn't feel like sleeping with Draco. She hesitated to stay on the sofa until the early hours. Blaise caught her gaze roaming over the sofa and intervened:
"No, out of the question. Not there. You need to sleep, you're exhausted."
Pansy sighed and hesitated. Blaise offered gently:
"Do you want to sleep in my bed? I don't mind."
She was tempted, but she found it hard to imagine Draco's reaction if he woke up and saw Pansy in Blaise's bed. He'd probably imagine things. It was all so senseless and complicated.
"No, thanks Blaise. I think I'll go and sleep with Daphne."
He helped her up from the sofa with a wave of his hand. He still had those gentlemanly ways, like when he'd invited her to dance with him. Once on his feet, the floor began to sway, the alcohol having suddenly gone to her head.
"Thank you for the silent cigarette." she said with a smile.
"My pleasure. I'll always be here, you know that? Always there when you need me. Don't bother with him too much, he's not worth it."
She smiled from the corner of her lip, and so did he. His white shirt was soaked with tears, but he didn't seem to mind at all.
"Good night Pans'."
"Good night Blaise."
And she went off to join Daphne, who was already sound asleep, and lay down beside her. She curled up into a ball, her legs completely tucked up against her stomach, and listened to Daphne's breathing beside her.
But they weren't as familiar as Draco's had been. She didn't smell the sweet minty scent he always gave off and which always perfumed the bed when he slept. She didn't emanate the overwhelming body heat that radiated from him like a roaring fire.
Pansy wasn't as soothed as she was when she was with him, even after matching her breathing with Daphne's several times, even when she closed her eyes and imagined it was him. She fell asleep a long time later, shivering with cold and fatigue.
Pansy woke with a wince. Her head hurt, as if something was pressing against her temples and the space between her eyes. Alcohol. She hadn't realised she'd taken so much the night before. She was almost used to waking up like this by now.
She rolled over and nearly went into cardiac arrest when she saw Daphne's face two inches from her, her eyes wide open. Pansy gasped and put a hand over her heart, but Daphne didn't notice, too eager to tell what she'd been through the night before:
"Pansy! I've done it! I've done it!"
Pansy closed her eyes and sighed. This was the worst wake-up she had ever had.
"Oh yeah?" she asked vaguely, although she knew full well what was coming next.
"We did it!" repeated Daphne in a high-pitched squeal. "Blaise and I, last night!"
Daphne was practically bouncing on the mattress, so happy was she. Pansy grimaced again and sat up in bed to avoid meeting her best friend's overexcited gaze.
"Merlin, tell me it wasn't in that bed..." she muttered.
"Yes, it was!" announced Daphne with a proud smile.
"Fucking hell. I need a cigarette."
Pansy pushed the duvet aside and stood up, but Daphne did the same in hurried movements and followed her into the bathroom to give her a detailed account of her night.
"Fucking hell, Daphne, I don't want to hear this!" cried Pansy, plugging her ears just as Daphne arrived at the moment Blaise had undressed her.
"What, but why?" asked Daphne without understanding.
"Because he's my best friend, and you're my best friend, and I have absolutely no desire to have mental images of the two of you, all naked, together, it just... Eww!" she exclaimed.
Daphne smirked at her and leaned against the bathroom door.
"I don't care Parkinson, you're going to have to get used to it, because I intend to tell you all about it."
Pansy rolled her eyes and wet her toothbrush. Daphne then launched into the most disgusting story Pansy had ever heard in her life. She went into details that Pansy would never have imagined. But Daphne carried on to the end, oblivious to the disgust clearly visible on the brunette's face and the gnashing of her teeth.
"I'm so happy!" concluded Daphne with a silly smile. "I was so afraid I'd be the last one to do it! And with Blaise too..."
"I'm glad you're happy, Daph'," sighed Pansy. "Even if I am traumatised."
"Oh, stop being such a prude. I know you've done it plenty of times with Draco."
Pansy's throat tightened and the lump that had been lodged in her throat the night before suddenly returned, half choking her with her toothpaste. She bent down to rinse her mouth and as she stood up, she saw her deplorable reflection in the mirror.
"Merlin, I look like shit." she mumbled, trying as best she could to flatten her night-streaked hair.
"Tori can give you some hangover potions, if you like." Daphne offered. "She's got loads of stuff in her dorm."
Pansy dressed quickly and went to knock on Astoria's dormitory door. When she opened it, Pansy was surprised to see that her long blonde hair, usually perfectly coiffed, was matted. She had traces of black make-up under her eyes and was still wearing her dress from the Ball, in which she had probably slept. She had obviously just woken up.
"Hey, sorry to wake you." Pansy said when she saw her face.
She couldn't really judge her, because she must have looked the same at that moment. Astoria swept her apology away with one hand and rubbed her eyes with the other:
"Don't worry. Do you need anything?"
Her voice was deep, deeper than usual. She must have nicked a bottle of Blaise, too.
"Daph' told me you had some hangover potions?"
"Merlin, yes, plenty. I'm going to need some too."
She opened the door to invite Pansy in and headed for her bed. Astoria's housemates were still asleep in their beds. Some contained more girls than expected, and the fourth bed had the green curtains drawn.
Pansy joined Astoria, trying not to step on the piles of clothes on the floor. When she reached her bed, she saw that Astoria's bedside table had been completely redone to make room for an impressive potions cabinet. The blonde rummaged around in it for a few seconds, then handed her a dozen small vials:
"Here, the perfect recipe for the day after a party."
"What's this?" asked Pansy, who didn't recognise the colour of half the bottles.
"Anti-hangover, stop nausea, red eyes, headache..." whispered Astoria, pointing to the potions as she listed them, "anti-vomiting, anti-vertigo, memory potion in case you drank too much to remember everything, and two beauty potions."
Pansy arched an eyebrow:
"Beauty potions? Like the ones from yesterday?"
"Yeah." replied Astoria. "The golden one is for your skin tone, to get rid of dark circles and stuff. The other one, the white one, is to stretch your features, make you prettier, for a day or so."
Pansy nodded as she recognised the vial Daphne had given her the day before the Ball. Pansy had loved seeing the effects on her face, as if she had no flaws at all at once.
"Thanks Tori." Pansy said as she put the potions away in her bag. "That's quite a collection you've got there." she said, indicating the small cupboard.
Astoria brushed aside the remark with her hand a second time:
"This? No, just a little hobby."
"You should sell them, it would be a business for you."
Astoria chuckled.
"For you, it's a gift. On the house."
Pansy thanked her and went back into the corridor. Daphne came out of hers at that moment and they both went to breakfast. Pansy couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten a proper meal, she'd forced herself onto a strict diet to fit into her Ball gown. So, after taking a few of Astoria's potions, she tried to eat, despite her reluctant stomach.
Blaise, Theo and Draco eventually joined them. When Draco entered the Great Hall, Pansy felt that rush of whatever in her body that made her so angry. He greeted her with a small smile and began to eat. From time to time, he glanced furtively at Granger. Pansy wondered if this was new or if she'd never noticed it before. Now that she knew, it was all she could see.
Granger was sitting three tables away. She was back to her usual look, which was her bushy hair. Pansy was amazed that a potion could be powerful enough to tame that hair. She must have applied loads of it. She was wearing a red woollen jumper and Muggle trousers. Ordinary.
She was sitting next to Weasley and looked particularly tense, more so than usual. She was standing too upright for it to be natural. They weren't even looking at each other. Maybe they weren't talking after their argument the day before.
Pansy tore herself away from this annoying vision and her gaze fell on Blaise, opposite her. He was perfectly cool and natural, as if he hadn't drunk a single drop of alcohol, which was rather annoying. He showed no sign of having slept with Daphne the night before, but Pansy noticed that he winked at her discreetly and that Daphne giggled quietly.
Pansy took a piece of toast and put it on her plate. Without them even looking at each other, without a word, Draco took the honey and gave it to her. Simply. Without even realising it, perhaps. He knew her so well that he already knew what she was looking for before she even did it. The gesture made her want to cry. Pathetic.
She said nothing and spread honey on her toast. The table was silent. Pansy ate her toast slowly. Blaise was reading the Daily Prophet, as he did every morning. Theo sipped his milk, lost in thought. Daphne had wandered off to see Tracey a little further away. She forced herself not to look at Draco, because every time he looked up at Granger, Pansy's stomach twisted and threatened to expel the potions.
When Draco looked up at Granger again, Pansy jumped to her feet. She received three bewildered looks from the boys.
"Where are you going?" asked Theo.
"To smoke." she replied in a white voice.
"Do you want to wait for me?" offered Blaise. "I'll finish this article and give you today's horoscope."
Pansy shook her head.
"No, thanks."
And she left. She knew they must find it odd, but no one stopped her. Pansy hurried out of the Great Hall. Her lungs were compressed by the tension of the table.
When she opened the doors to step out into the courtyard, the fresh air felt good. She took several deep breaths and crossed the gardens to find herself in the Transfiguration courtyard. She liked this courtyard because it was small and rarely crowded. She could smoke in peace and quiet. She lit a cigarette and sat down on a snowy bench. The familiar taste of tobacco on her tongue reassured her. She rested her head on the back of the bench and closed her eyes to savour the sensation of the cold on her thighs.
Time passed and the cold paralysed her more and more. Her cigarettes were the only source of warmth. Pansy chained them together with mechanical movements. The cold and the tobacco succeeded in putting her in that lethargic state she loved so much, because she was finally alone with her thoughts.
Draco loved promises. It was he who had invented the oath of promises with their little fingers, when they were children. Pansy had never considered a truer vow than those promises. She had always kept them religiously. Draco sometimes made them to himself. He promised himself things so as not to break his own resolutions. Pansy had never really done it, but that day she wondered if she shouldn't promise herself that she would no longer feel love for Draco.
She knew she had to. Feeling anything for him brought her more pain and sorrow than anything else. But it was so hard to fight her own mind, her own emotions that she couldn't control. She didn't know if it was possible. Maybe Astoria had a potion for that in her cabinet.
Pansy opened her packet of cigarettes and grunted. She'd run out of cigarettes without realising it. She stood up, threw the empty packet into her bag and re-entered the Castle. She headed for the stairs leading down to the basement, near the kitchen, and pulled her hood down over her head. Pansy hated this part of the Castle, too yellow, too deceptively comfortable.
She took the first corridor she saw and hurried across the floor to find the person she was looking for before too many people realised she was there. She had no desire to be noticed on the Hufflepuff floor. She searched through all their cheerful faces, but Sullivan wasn't there.
Pansy swore through her teeth and made her way back up the stairs to the Hall. Sullivan was always around, so she went round to find him. At last, she spotted him in a corridor with a group of friends. A bunch of Hufflepuffs.
"Sullivan?" called Pansy curtly.
The blonde looked up and grinned at her as he met her gaze. Pansy almost rolled her eyes. He was acting as if they were the best of friends. He apologized to his friends and approached her and the secluded spot where she had been hiding so as not to be seen in the company of a Hufflepuff.
"Hi Pansy, how are you?"
If he noticed her pathetic state, he made no comment. She didn't reply and got straight to the point:
"I've run out of cigarettes. Can you give me ten packs?"
He raised his eyebrows. His face was too round, too rough. His blond hair was too curly and nobody seemed to have told him that it contrasted horribly with his face.
"Already?" he asked.
"I didn't ask you to make a comment, Sullivan." Pansy hissed. "I'm just asking for cigarettes."
"I'll have to send my big brother an owl." said the Hufflepuff. "I didn't think your supplies would run out so quickly."
Pansy sighed in exasperation.
"But I need it... now." she said in a jerky whisper.
She was ashamed to be begging a Hufflepuff like that, but her desire for tobacco was stronger than her embarrassment. Sullivan shrugged.
"Sorry." he said simply, with the shadow of a mocking smile.
Pansy sighed again and readjusted her bag on her shoulder in an impatient gesture. She danced from one foot to the other.
"What do you want?" she finally blurted out. "In return, what do you want?"
Sullivan pretended to think. Pansy was on the verge of pulling out her wand and setting fire to the bird's nest that served as his hair. Finally, he offered with a businesslike smile:
"Let's just say a little raise would probably help my owl go faster."
"A raise?! Again?!" cried Pansy. "I'm already paying 25 Sickles a packet, that must be abominably expensive for your muggle brother."
"There's also the cost of going there, the price of the package, the delivery, and the pain of the job." said Sullivan, counting on his fingers.
"How much do you want?" squeaked Pansy.
"Thirty-five Sickles a pack."
"What? But that's almost twenty Galleons a ten!"
"That's right." said Sullivan, crossing his arms. "And I'm the only Muggle-born selling cigarettes in this school, and you're not my only customer. Gotta keep the business going, you know?"
Pansy mentally insulted the boy as she rummaged through her purse and tossed the coins at him aggressively.
"Here you go, twenty Galleons. Happy?"
The Hufflepuff counted his coins and tucked them away in his pocket with a big grin.
"Oh, here, I forgot I happen to have a few parcels in my bag."
He rummaged through his belongings and handed her four packets.
"Here. I owe you six, I should have them by the end of the week."
Pansy tucked the packets into the bottom of her bag.
"If I throw in a few more Sickles, can I have them sooner?" she asked in a small voice.
Sullivan shrugged and Pansy passed him the rest of the coins from her purse.
"It's a pleasure doing business with you, Pansy Parkinson." Sullivan decreed without hiding his delight.
"You're scamming people, you fucking..."
"Very nice haircut, did you cut your fringe?" he asked to interrupt her. "Very nice."
He laughed and walked away before Pansy could insult him. She stood there for a few seconds, on the verge of stamping her foot because this guy was so unbearable, then turned around. She went back the other way and ran violently into someone.
It was Theo. He was already looking at her, leaning against the wall of the corridor, a mischievous little smile drawn on his lips. He was carrying his bag over his shoulder and had crossed his legs to support himself. When he saw the distraught look on Pansy's face, he chuckled softly.
"What were you doing?" he asked innocently.
"Nothing." she replied quickly.
"It didn't look like nothing. Who was that Hufflepuff?"
"Who do you think?" she asked, rolling her eyes.
She felt like walking away, but Theo was determined to stay leaning against the wall and block her way.
"Your secret lover?"
Pansy made a face that made Theo laugh again.
"Certainly not. Can we go?" she pressed.
"Why? Don't you want to introduce me to your new friends, the Hufflepuffs?"
"They're not my friends." she squeaked, pulling his arm to take him away. He stood there motionless.
"Tell me what you were doing, then."
"I... I was asking her something, that's all."
"Ahh..." said Theo, as if he'd just realised something. "Is that why you threw twenty Galleons at him?"
"It's none of your business, Nott."
"Stop calling me that."
"Stop annoying me, then."
Theo smiled and eventually peeled himself off the wall and walked beside her down the corridor.
"Do you know how indecent that is? Twenty Galleons, for cigarettes? A packet shouldn't cost more than five Sickles, Pans'. You're being screwed. Besides, it's really bad for your health..."
"I know, Theo, you've already told me a hundred times." Pansy grumbled. "I'm not in the mood for a lecture right now."
Theo turned his head towards her and frowned:
"Really? Why, what's the matter with you?"
"And you, why were you there?" asked Pansy, not wanting to answer his question.
Theo showed her his bag full of books:
"I was going to the Library. Do you want to come with me?"
Pansy smiled slightly. He asked her every day, even though he knew she'd say 'no' every time.
"No, thanks." she said.
"Anything more interesting planned?" asked Theo sarcastically.
She wanted to reply in the same tone but was suddenly stopped when she felt nauseous.
"I'm... I need to go." said Pansy, abruptly changing course to enter the first-floor toilet.
She opened the first door of the toilet cubicle and leaned over the toilet bowl. She had felt like she was going to throw up, but in the end, nothing happened. She massaged her stomach. Perhaps she hadn't eaten enough. Or maybe the breakfast potions had had some side effects. The brunette waited a few seconds, then when her stomach stopped hurting, she got up and left the cubicle.
In the reflection of the mirror, her face almost frightened her. The potions had managed to eliminate the signs of hangover, but only in transparency. She looked strange, and her hair was in a terrible state. She tried as best she could to style it by wetting it a little, then ran water over her face several times, to no avail.
At that moment, she remembered the beauty potions that Astoria had given her that morning and rummaged in her bag to find them. She analysed the two potions, the golden one and the white one, without remembering exactly what Astoria had told her. She unscrewed the white one and drank the whole thing. The metallic taste ran over her tongue.
Pansy watched the effects transform her face slightly. Her eyes crinkled a little, deepening her eyelids to give her a doe-like look. Her mouth swelled slightly, making her lips full. Then her face stretched, and her cheekbones stood out more against her pale skin. She contemplated the result and was pleased with the image she created.
She threw the bottle in the bin and went out into the corridor again. Theo was still leaning back, waiting for her.
"Are you sure you don't want to come and work with me?" said Theo when she reached him. "You still haven't done your Herbology test, and I'm warning you, there's no way I'm doing it for you this time, you've had plenty of time to..."
Theo stopped talking as he met Pansy's gaze. He frowned as he detailed her.
"What the..."
Before she could explain, Theo's gaze slid to Pansy's hands. She was still holding the other vial of beauty potion, the golden one. The boy's features suddenly hardened and he snatched the potion from her hands: it flew and crashed against the wall, spilling the golden liquid onto the stone.
"Theo! What the fuck?!" exclaimed Pansy as she looked at the potion, which had exploded into a thousand pieces. "Do you know how much a potion like that costs?
"I don't give a fuck!" shouted Theo, which stopped Pansy in her tracks.
His face, usually cheerful and smiling, had changed. He was furious. Which was so rare that Pansy found herself speechless at the sight. His soft blue eyes were now flashing, and his mouth was curled up in anger.
He approached her, and the fact that he towered over her forced her to look up.
"I tolerate cigarettes." he said in a hiss, like a whisper full of anger and menace. "Merlin, I even tolerate alcohol, even if it drives me completely mad to see you destroying yourself like this every night. I say nothing, even though I want to rip your cup out of your hand. I say nothing when you arrive in the morning with a hangover worse than the day before. I say nothing. But this, Pansy?"
He pointed to the golden potion on the floor. She didn't dare look at it.
"That, no. A beauty potion? What's the matter with you? Why do you have this?" he asked fiercely.
"Astoria gave it to me." said Pansy in a sheepish voice she didn't recognise herself.
Theo restrained himself from shouting as he ran a hand over his face.
"And why did you just drink it?" he asked in a hiss. "Did you honestly think I wasn't going to notice it on your face?"
"I looked terrible!" she defended herself.
"It's dangerous." he said, his voice trembling with anger. "And you don't need it. Like cigarettes, like alcohol. It's stupid, dangerous and pointless. Why do you do this to yourself? Did you think Draco would think you were prettier if you took that shit?"
Pansy's eyes cracked as she heard his first name.
"Hey." she warned. "I can do whatever I want! You're nobody to tell me what I can and can't take, Nott!"
"I'm nobody?!" he cried. He tangled his hands in his hair to tug at it in frustration. "Me, I'm nobody?! I may not be your best friend, I know you have Draco, and Daphne, and Blaise, and all the people at the parties, but I still consider myself a friend of yours!"
"You are, but..."
"I am a friend of yours." he cut in, still furious. "And I'm enough of a friend of yours to be able to tell you that you're fucking pretty, Pansy. Anyone would say so. Merlin, you're fucking beautiful. And you don't need that to please him. If you don't think your natural face is good enough for him, then he doesn't deserve you. I thought you were confident enough not to have to tell yourself that!"
"Theo!"
"I don't care!" he retorted. "I don't care, you don't have any excuses! I didn't say anything about the Ball, because I know all the girls took those shit potions, but there's no way you're going to get addicted to that stuff like you are to smoking, is that clear? This is the last time I'll see you with this in your hands. Promise me!" shouted Theo.
"All right, all right! Merlin, I promise!" she said, her eyes wide at hearing her friend so upset.
He closed his mouth and it formed a line, his face disapproving. He detailed the brunette's face one last time with a gleam of disgust. Pansy never thought he'd notice the difference so quickly.
"Do you know the effects of these shitty potions, or do you want me to drag you to the Library so we can study them together?" he grumbled as he turned to continue on his path.
"I don't know them." she admitted as she caught up with him. "Sorry, Theo, I didn't know."
"That's okay." he said, even though his tone always indicated otherwise. "Enjoy the effects, because this is the last time you'll ever see them."
He was so furious. Usually, it was her who was like that, or Draco. Theo was always the wise one, the calm one, like Blaise. He could be easily exasperated, or sad, but rarely angry. It was so unusual that Pansy didn't know what to say. She was so taken aback by his behaviour that she let herself be dragged into the Library for the first time in a long time.
He put his bag down with a bang on the table and she sat down piteously in front of him. He pulled a textbook from his bag, looked for the page and put it down abruptly in front of her.
Beauty potions
Side effects.
"Read this." he ordered.
Pansy complied. The potential side effects were: permanent facial deformity, swelling, fever, rash. She avoided looking at the moving pictures in frames of the distorted faces caused by daily use of the potions.
"'Alright, I get it." she murmured at the end of her reading. "Last time. Promise."
Theo nodded gravely. Then a small, proud smile stretched his lips.
"If I'd known you'd have to be so pissed off to get you to stop something, I'd have done it soon enough about the cigarettes."
"Not sure it'll work."
"Well, now that you're here, you can just do your Herbology essay. At least that'll be done." advised the boy.
Pansy shrugged and pulled a parchment out of her bag. In reality, she was dying to smoke, but something told her that if she told Theo at that moment, he might follow her to stop her. So she obeyed and began her test.
Theo, as usual, helped her from start to finish. He explained every property of the plants they had studied that she could use in her assignment. He remained patient, even when Pansy got annoyed, or when she asked him to pause or explain the same thing a third time.
By the time she finished her essay, it was late afternoon, and Pansy felt a rare sense of accomplishment.
"I'm exhausted." she admitted, stretching.
Her hand was tense from holding the feather in her hand. She massaged her knuckles as she watched Theo pull a novel and a page of newspaper from his bag.
"I'm going to do some reading." he said, pointing to the book. "Here, I've cut this out for you. It's what I wanted to give you before I bumped into you and your dealer."
He emphasised the last word with a wry laugh. Pansy took the newspaper page and unfolded it. It was the day's horoscopes. She plunged straight in, starting with Aries.
When she got to Gemini, she looked up at Theo. He was reading, with that concentrated crease that he always had between his eyes when he was concentrating. His pupils were jumping up and down rapidly, devouring the text in front of him. He was definitely calmed down.
"Hey, Theo?" she called in a whisper.
He looked up at her and she saw the concentration disappear from his blue eyes and focus on her.
"Yeah?"
"You're not... Nobody. And you're not just a good friend of mine. You're one of the best, in fact. And I'm grateful to have you in my life."
His gaze softens at her words. He smiled, not the sarcastic kind of smile, the real genuine smile that lit up his features.
"You are too, Pans'."
"And I'm not just saying that because you helped me do my homework. Well, yes, that too. But mostly because... I wanted you to know."
Theo rested his hand against the back of Pansy's. His skin was warm and comforting.
"I know, Pans'. And I want you to still be my Pans'. Not this weird, shallow version of you. You know Draco would hate that too."
She winced at that. He gave her a sympathetic smile.
"He doesn't deserve you, Pans'."
She reflected that this was the second time someone had said that to her in less than a day. Blaise, and now Theo. She felt the tears welling up once again. Was she ever going to stop wanting to burst into tears all the time?
"I know." she said with difficulty.
He patted her hand gently and resumed reading. Pansy discreetly wiped her eyes and focused on Theo's horoscope to think of something other than Draco.
.
.
.
.
Blaise didn't comment on the beauty potion that was still changing Pansy's face, although he must have noticed because he gave her a funny look when she arrived at dinner. Theo didn't mention it again that evening.
They ate in silence. About halfway through the meal, a fifth year girl called Emily approached Pansy and said:
"Hey Pansy, is there a party tonight?"
Theo raised his head at this and arched an eyebrow at Pansy, as if silently challenging her. Pansy thought for a few seconds and turned back to Emily:
"No, not that I heard."
The girl gave a disappointed pout and returned to her seat. Several other girls asked her, and Pansy always answered the same thing, to their dismay. For some time now, Pansy had had the role of party organiser. But she didn't have to do anything, she just said "yes" and everyone pitched in to bring the music, the booze and the people. All she had to do was say yes to one or two people, and she could be sure that there would be a party that evening.
But that day, she didn't feel like drinking. After dinner, she followed Blaise and Theo back to their dormitory, and the three of them talked until the sun went down. Then, complaining that they hadn't slept enough the night before, they fell asleep quite early. Pansy waited in Draco's bed, curled up in a ball.
He eventually came back in, long after Theo and Blaise had fallen asleep. His shoulders were covered in snow particles and his cheeks were red. He had spent the evening outside, as he often did.
He noticed that she was still awake and raised his eyebrows without saying anything. He went into the bathroom to wash and change, then joined her in bed. Even though he was freezing, the bed suddenly became warmer and more comforting as he lay down in it.
"What's wrong with your face?" asked Draco instantly.
Pansy ran a hand over her face. Despite the darkness, he could see it.
"Allergy." she replied softly.
He frowned.
"You're lying. It's a beauty potion, isn't it?"
Pansy felt her heart swell in her chest. He'd noticed. She nodded.
"Pans', you know you don't need that. You're much prettier without it."
"Am I?" she asked, hopeful.
"Of course." he said, amazed that she could ask. "Why did you take this? I don't like what it does to your face."
She shrugged.
"I don't know, I liked myself better with it on. I looked awful. Hangover."
"You should stop drinking so much. Nott's right."
He shook his head and pulled the duvet up under his chin, yawning.
"Good night Pans'." he said in a tired whisper.
He drifted off to sleep and Pansy watched him sleep through her half-closed eyelids.
.
.
.
.
This routine continued for several days. Pansy spent most of her days with Theo. Sometimes he would even accompany her outside so that she could have a smoke, after a few comments about her health, her lungs and her uselessly spent money. In exchange, she accompanied him to the Library and read a few books on Astronomy while he worked on his endless homework.
She ate normally, something she hadn't done for a very long time. She didn't drink alcohol, refusing all the parties on offer. She went to bed early. She didn't take a single beauty potion, more out of fear of Theo's reaction than the actual side effects.
She limited her interaction with Draco. When he asked something about her behavior, she changed the subject. She avoided looking at him. She forced herself to ignore the shivers, the butterflies in his stomach, the looks. She eliminated Draco Malfoy from her thoughts, determined to keep her promise to herself.
On New Year's Eve, she cracked. She sat next to Daphne on the couch in the Common Room and pretended not to feel Theo's reproachful stare behind her back as she drank her vanilla whisky. She watched all the dancers in front of the huge fireplace as she smoked her cigarettes. At around 10pm, Daphne got up from the sofa to leave discreetly with Blaise. Draco took her place.
"Hey Pans'."
"Hi Draco." she said without looking at him.
"Seriously?"
She frowned and turned her head towards him.
"What?"
"Hi Draco?" Can you get any colder than that?"
"I'm simply greeting you. Cigarette?"
She handed him the packet. He seemed to hesitate, but nodded 'no'.
"Pans', what's the matter with you?"
"Nothing." she lied.
"That's a lie." he said, sure of himself. "Tell me what's going on, please."
"Nothing, Draco. I'm just acting as usual."
"The usual?" he repeated with a sour laugh. "You don't talk to me, you fall asleep before I get home, you can't even look at me. I'm trying to work out what I've done wrong, and I can't find anything. This is about the beauty potions, isn't it? Did you take it badly?"
Pansy felt a small twinge of pity for him. He really had no idea what she'd been going through since the Ball. Maybe she was as closed off as he was, after all.
"No, it's not that."
"Was it something I did?"
She turned to him. He looked really pained. Worried. She felt the familiar chills on his arm, the ones she'd tried to ignore for days.
"Not really."
"Explain it to me, Pans'. Please. I hate it when we're like that."
"Like what?" she asked.
The music was particularly loud tonight. New Year's Eve was always a big night, but Pansy couldn't remember them being this intense in previous years. Half the Common Room was dancing.
"Like this." he said, pointing to the space between the two of them. "When you're all distant with me. You don't talk to me. I hate that."
"Why?" she asked, her voice defiant.
He seemed to hesitate, then moved a few inches closer to her to whisper:
"Because I don't like it when we don't talk to each other, Pans'. You're my best friend, and it hurts me when you feel bad, especially when I don't know why. Tell me, I won't make fun, I promise."
Pansy repositioned herself on the sofa so she wasn't so close to him and took a sip of whisky.
"I don't know what to tell you, Draco."
He sighed, a sigh full of frustration and suppressed anger.
"Pansy!" he grew impatient. "What's going on? I can help you! You know I love y..."
"No!"
Pansy suddenly turned to him and put her finger over his mouth to keep him from finishing his sentence. He gave her a funny look, and she promptly withdrew her hand.
"Don't say that." she warned.
"Why not?"
"Because it's not true." she said, looking him straight in the eye. "You don't love me. You may be trying to convince yourself that you do, but you don't. Stop using that word."
"What?" he asked in a small voice, his eyebrows furrowed.
"You don't love me, Draco." she said softly, not taking her eyes off him. "Because you never looked at me the way you looked at her."
For a split second, Pansy saw Draco's eyes widen, ever so slightly. She knew him well enough to know she'd cracked his secret. His shameful thoughts. For a second, his shell cracked enough for her to see the fear on his face at the idea that she might know. Then his confused expression returned.
"What are you talking about?" he questioned.
"I know, Draco. I saw it."
They stared at each other for several seconds, silent. His confusion slowly turned to concern. His grey eyes reflected the inner storm behind it. Finally, he gave in and sighed. What was the point in denying the obvious?
"I'm sorry, Pans'," he admitted sheepishly.
Pansy had thought her heart had been broken enough since the Ball to still feel something, but she had to believe there was enough left for it to break into pieces again. She felt the weight that had been in her stomach for days crushing her even more. But she didn't want to cry in front of him. She'd cried enough for him.
"You don't have to be sorry, it's not your fault." she said simply.
"I..." He hesitated over his words and swore something that Pansy didn't hear. He put his head in his hands and massaged his temples, as if carefully choosing his next sentence. When he lifted his head, the pain was clearly visible on his features. "Fuck! I don't know what I'm going to do. I really love you, Pans'. Not the way you want me to. But I do. And I don't want you to go. It would break me."
"I'm not going anywhere."
He dipped his hopeful eyes into hers.
"Is that true?"
"I could never do that. I promised you, remember? To stay friends. Through all the fights and obstacles, even the hard ones."
She held up her little finger at him and he watched her with relief. He looked like he was going to start crying, too. He took her little finger in his and didn't take it away. They stood there on the couch in the Common Room, their two hands intertwined, amidst the dancers and the music.
"Can I...?" he asked as he approached.
She nodded and he took her in his arms. It was rare, but so comforting. More so than Blaise's. The way his arms crossed around her neck, and she felt his breath against her cheek, that minty smell that stuck to her skin. She breathed in and put her hands around his neck.
"It'll pass." she assured him in a breath. "It's just a crush."
"I'll always be here, Pans'. I'm sorry."
Suddenly she had an idea. She lifted her head from Draco's shoulder.
"Do you want to do it... one last time?"
He frowned and she gave him a suggestive smile. She saw his eyes flicker, then understand and go wide.
"Are you sure? It's not going to...?"
"Let's just say it'll be our goodbye. One last time to move on."
She could see the hesitation on his features. She desperately wanted to kiss him one last time, to be as close to him as possible.
"Please, Draco." she said in a small voice.
He nodded. He stood up and held out his hand to her:
"One last time."
She took his hand and followed him through the crowd of dancers. She carefully ignored looking at Theo as she passed him. It wasn't necessarily a good decision, but it was her last request. She'd move on to something else tomorrow. She was just asking for this last little indulgence.
When he opened the door to the dormitory, Pansy was delighted to see that it was empty. Draco pointed his wand at the door and locked it, then kissed her. It was the first time he'd ever kissed her like that. An apologetic kiss. She gave in and lay down in her favourite place at Hogwarts: Draco's bed.
They lay in bed for hours, not speaking. He intertwined his fingers with her little finger, as if to remind himself of their promise four years earlier. Pansy didn't smoke. She didn't feel like it. She was completely at peace with him. She needed nothing more than that.
In the distance, they suddenly heard the exclamations of the other students. Then a countdown. 10, 9, 8, 7... Pansy had almost forgotten that it was almost New Year's Eve. She closed her eyes and prayed that 1995 would be better than the previous year.
3, 2, 1...
Just before midnight, Draco turned to her and kissed her gently.
A goodbye kiss.