A/N: It's been a lil bit, but here we are with Part 8! (Still far more to come)
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March 23, 1995
Pansy rolled over and blew, her long hair flowing out as she did so. It took one more puff of air, and then, her vision was restored in its entirety.
Finally, she thought as her eyes, bleary from just rising, looked into the depths across from her. There were all sorts of fish swimming around, some in schools and others in nought but small groups or even on their own. Shells of a type that didn't particularly interest her were present too, and all throughout the bottom was plant life that'd always interested her.
No, interest wasn't the right word; admired, maybe. The beauty of nature was simple, very simple, but that didn't make her enjoy it any less. In fact, she'd go so far as to say it was one thing amongst few that she truly enjoyed witnessing. Many a ball or Ministry event could be done away with, in her opinion — walks among gardens would do well to replace them.
Pansy yawned and rolled over, her head falling into the cloud-like pillow with her hair splaying out atop it. She was half-tempted to stay in bed for another few hours until it was the afternoon at the very least. That'd be beyond fine by her understanding, for the weekend existed for one to rest and recover… and mayhaps steal away a glass of wine and platter of snacks.
I'd sell Draco if it meant returning home for a week, Pansy thought mournfully. It'd be a fair trade on her end now that she'd replaced Malfoy, by and large, with Harry. I suppose I shouldn't go and make an enemy of him if I needn't do so. I can't help but wonder what he'll try and do once a decision's been made within his mind, dull as it is.
In truth, she'd been waiting for Draco to act since the first rumour of her and Harry spending more time than necessary together had spread. Such was her reasoning for reinforcing her friendship with Daphne, Tracey and Millicent, in addition to having the support of her cousins, the Carrows; Zabini and a few in the year below her were sitting on the fence as well. Each person she ensured 'backed' her, so to say, meant one less person for Draco to try and use against her.
If he would. There was still the chance that he'd change and become like Harry, like a gentleman. Draco, Morgana dare she say it, could stand to learn a thing or two from Potter. The thought of saying as much to Draco's face forced a smile, especially when she imagined his pale visage going red as he seethed with rage. It'd be very amusing, the more she thought about it.
Eventually, Pansy shook aside the covers of her bed and peeled back the rest of her bed's curtains as she finally made to stand. Potter would likely be expecting her in three, perhaps four hours, and that wasn't to mention that she'd promised to spend at least a portion of her Hogsmeade time with Daphne, Tracey and Millicent, each of whom she wanted to reinforce relationships with.
Would that she could stay in bed until the afternoon had come. That'd be pleasant.
Ah well, I'll have an early night, Pansy thought as a change of clothes was summoned toward her person. Casual would be fitting for my venture with the others. I'd not imagine Harry would dress up all that much either. He and the company he keeps all too often stay dressed just a step beyond the Muggles.
"-rkinson hasn't risen yet, so I'd say you have time to shower, Daph."
The voice belonged to Tracey, who herself was tired-sounding. Millicent wasn't present, Pansy found as she turned the corner to see the room in nearly its entirety. Daphne and Tracey, however, were; the former was plucking item after item from a trunk — one of many the Greengrass girl owned — whilst her constant companion was reclined across the entirety of one of the four couches at the front of the dorm. Atop Tracey's head was a winter hat of Muggle design that earned a second glance when it registered to Pansy.
I can only imagine the words which others might say, Pansy thought as a scant few seconds of unease went through her; the thought of Muggle items in Slytherin at all would do as much.
"I commend you on your use of the word yet, Davis," Pansy said a second or so before the eyes of the other two girls found her. "You can shower, Daphne. I'll probably do much the same in a few minutes — tea?"
Daphne nodded in the direction of the first table on the right, and a few feet from the first couch on the very same side. It was a sort of ritual, one might say, that being to have tea and other light snacks in their dorms whenever they rose. Slytherin had its well-deserved benefits.
"I'll go and do so now. Bulstrode's in the Great Hall, so you're aware," Daphne had added the latter part of her sentence after a few steps toward the exit of their dorm, the comment earning a nod of recognition from Pansy before Greengrass completed her departure.
That left Pansy and Tracey, and maybe another witch in their year based on the canopy of one bed remaining completely closed off.
Lucky, Pansy thought spitefully, and before she turned her attention back over to Tracey. "You're tired as well, are you?"
"Yup!"
Pansy nearly winced at Tracey's happy and emphatic response; it was far louder and more energy-filled than her previous words. "Tea?"
"Please and thank you, with three sugar cubes on top," Tracey responded.
"Wh—"
"Inside," Tracey said quickly whilst stopping Pansy mid-word. "I thought it'd sound better — it's a saying, believe me."
"If you have to claim it's a saying, it's probably not a saying," it was Daphne again, the blonde witching returning in seconds since the time of her departure. "And before any of you inquire as to the reason of my return, suffice to say—" she summoned something into her hands "—I forgot my tertiary bar of soap."
Pansy blinked when she heard those words and immediately, and without thinking, looked at Tracey. Much to her surprise, Tracey was looking at her too, and then, after a few seconds of that shared look, Tracey was the first to break. She turned away from Pansy, rose a hand to garner Daphne's attention, and upon having it, spoke.
"What d'ya need three bars of soap for, you onion?"
Now, typically whensoever a joke was told, it was polite to demurely raise one's hand and let loose girlish giggles. That'd been taught to her by her parents, both her mother and her father, for various reasons. By this time, even amongst companions, it'd be expected.
With all of that said, Pansy laughed. It was a deep, full-bellied laughter that was joined a second or so later by laughter from Daphne, albeit a shorter burst and not quite as loud as Pansy's; Tracey, meanwhile, was grinning happily and nodding to herself as if she'd just been praised by Snape.
For once, she figured she'd give it to Davis. There certainly were few parties funnier than she.
"If you continue to use this new nickname of yours, Tracey, then I'll be forced to make one of my own, for you. I'm certain I might prove able to drudge up a memory or two," Daphne said, her voice threatening, but teasingly so too — Pansy recognised the former quality might not be totally in jest.
There was certainly not one person alive who'd wish to be called 'Onion' by their companions. Least of all a person that put so much pride and work into their looks, and Daphne much like Pansy, was one such person.
Not entirely, as I understand it. I'd never go so far as to use three different soaps all in the hopes of creating some sort of perfect combination. That's entirely too much work for a witch to do when most wizards won't be sniffing them — not the normal ones. Weasleys and other such creatures might.
"Fine, fine, I'll stop calling you an onion," Tracey answered with raised hands, the universal sign of surrender. "…You smell good if it's any consolation?"
Daphne sighed, scooched a few inches away from the other girl, and moved to look out of the carriage window.
Pansy's lips rose, but she remained quiet, as did Millicent; she'd come to join them back in the dorms when thirty minutes had come and gone and none of them had found her in the Great Hall. It was Millicent who was sat beside Pansy on the carriage, while Greengrass and Davis sat across from them. Thankfully, they'd managed to secure a carriage for nought but the four of them despite the crowds gathered to head to Hogsmeade.
Mayhaps a bit of nepotism had helped that along, and a healthy exchange of a few Galleons, but in the words of her father, Galleons made the world go round. In some ways, Pansy agreed with the saying.
"So… Pansy?" Tracey started off, her tone immediately arousing suspicion by the girl in question.
"Tracey?" Pansy asked back, her eyes narrowing at the shifty expression on Davis' face.
"I was thinking since it's just the four of us and we're all aware of what you're doing — have you kissed Potter yet?" Tracey continued even as Daphne's head whipped around and Pansy's mouth went slack. Even Bulstrode's attention, which had previously been diverted to the outside world much like Daphne's, found its way back into the carriage.
"That's not an appropriate question," Daphne said, being the first to speak as she chided Tracey.
Pansy watched Tracey's face fall at Daphne's response. For some reason, that seemed to make a bit of pity rise up; it had to be Potter's influence. Normally, she'd not feel an ounce of remorse at such a nosy question being pushed aside. Mayhaps it was the thought of enforcing her claim over Harry too — there was certainly no shortage of witches that'd like to try and sink their dirty hands into him.
Hands that'd probably never seen so much as a single manicure, if one could imagine such a horrible fate.
"I've shared a kiss with him twice over," Pansy blurted out, the words fueling her confidence. When Tracey gasped and looked back at her, that confidence reached a peak.
If only Pansy would have known the line of questioning such an answer would incur. In hindsight, she'd probably not have spoken up; were she even more clever, she'd have remembered that Tracey was the witch to beat when it came to romance novels. One need simply take a peek into her satchel to realise just how infatuated the witch was with the idea of boundless love.
Pansy much preferred the sad tales of romance. Ones wherein the wizard was cruelly kept away from the witch of his dreams, or where the wizard was forced away to fight, only to return deceased to his lover, their love never again to shine as it once had. Those were perfect… until she'd begun to feel differently towards a specific wizard.
Those books and tales of romance then begin to make her feel entirely too sad.
"... say that and then go silent! That's horrible of you!" Tracey said as she leaned forward, her hands grabbing Pansy's as she shot her best look of pleading at the latter girl. "Please! Just tell me if he's charming, if he's awkward, if he's shy — please!"
Pansy's brows furrowed as she looked betwixt Tracey the barmy, and Daphne. That look of confusion would soon find itself remedied when Greengrass spoke up and over Davis' pleading.
"Tracey has a… journal, and in that journal, she's written how she imagines each wizard might act as a boyfriend. Correction, almost every wizard, there remains some she'll not add to the journal," Daphne paused, seemingly to remember something as she nodded to herself, and then she resumed speaking. "If I recall correctly, and I believe I do, I think her notes list Harry as gallant, polite and charming, but she worries he'd be shy or quiet."
Tracey's as strange as the Onion, I've come to find out, Pansy thought as she blinked at the revelation. Now, I can't help but wonder what Millicent's flaw is. Tracey's a hopeless romantic with a touch of strangeness, and Daphne's… well, I suppose strange might work again.
"Harry's very kind, and now, I believe we've reached—" the carriage halted, thank Morgana, "—the end of our journey. Milly, the door, please."
Millicent did as Pansy asked, and shortly thereafter, the group of four found themselves toward the centre of Hogsmeade. There were dozens of new shops, the majority temporary and renting structures or using tents, but some seemed like they'd be around to stay; there seemed to be a few new buildings that'd seemingly appeared overnight as well. Mayhaps Hogsmeade would grow to be as large as her parents had oft remarked it was, Pansy certainly would love to have a wider range of shops to visit.
"Are we fancying breakfast first?" Pansy asked, her eyes finding those of each of the other girls one after the next.
"Someplace French?" Tracey asked.
"I'd enjoy something French or Nordic," Daphne added.
Naturally, the two that'd spoken and Pansy sought out Millicent for her opinion.
"I don't care."
Pansy looked between Daphne and Tracey after such a response, and then she nodded for the others to follow her. "French, then," she said to the others. "I believe I've heard of at least one place that adds chocolate to their pastries."
"What about a pastry made from chocolate? That'd be tasty," Tracey looked around for support.
"That'd just be chocolate."
Daphne crushed the other girl's dream of a chocolate-only pastry brutally.
Pansy couldn't contain a giggle, Tracey couldn't contain a pout, and all the while the four walked to the French restaurant that already lay within the boundaries of their sight. It was an easy thing to tell; Pansy knew the day wouldn't be boring.
Over the course of an hour, Pansy and her companions had shared a meal — one rife with chocolate-filled pastries amongst other good food — gone shopping, sat to watch birds atop a pond of water, and finally, found another shop in which they found their interest piqued.
"No."
Pansy looked at Daphne, the girl who had said aloud the only word spoken.
"But, Daphne… " Tracey whined as she pushed out her bottom lip and folded her arms. "It's a souvenir shop! Think about when you're old, grey and have great-grandchildren. You'll prolly have more wrinkles than the Headmaster, so you'll want pieces like that for memor—"
Abruptly, Tracey stopped speaking. There wasn't so much as a warning before that happened, and as such, naturally, Pansy was inquisitive as to what had just occurred. In less than a few seconds of looking, the answer was immediate. Daphne's wand was out, there'd been the faintest hint of light having just pulsed through its tip, and then, it was returned up her sleeve.
That was impressive. Pansy had barely so much as seen Daphne move in the corner of her eye before that'd all happened and Tracey was forced into silence. Maybe having onion-girl was a good thing when she was that fast.
"My hand slipped," Daphne said innocently, and as she began pulling Tracey away from the shop, the others then following after the two as they started back toward a restaurant they'd just passed by.
Tracey tapped Daphne's mouth, her pout still on her face, for all the good it did her.
"My mouth slipped too," Daphne said, that innocence still about her until she rolled her eyes, withdrew her wand as she'd previously done, and tapped it to Tracey's mouth. "No talking about me being old, grey and wrinkled, you bint — you know I hate thinking about that."
"You have to teach me how you do that so fast then. I never get to silence you," Tracey folded her arms. "Cheater."
Millicent answered before Greengrass could. "Be faster."
Pansy supposed those two words, simple as they were, had a bit of truth in them.
From there, the three bickered back and forth — good-naturedly — until they were at that restaurant or rather, pub, aforementioned as it was. Unlike the previous place they'd eaten at, this one wasn't French or new. It was a classic, the Three Broomsticks; the place every Hogwarts student would visit once a year, minimum.
It was a touch rustic for the group, but it was familiar and possessed comfort food. After the cacophony of French dishes, some of which were beyond the tastes which Pansy typically enjoyed, the change would be most welcome.
"I don't know how you manage it, Tracey, but here we are," Daphne said as she gestured around the familiar wooden interior of the pub. It had a thin layer of smoke from a group of older men drawing from pipes, and beyond that, the scent of food and smells of various perfumes and colognes from the many people near their age within.
It was the most popular place prior to the huge influx of people, after all.
"It's tradition," Tracey all but stressed as she led the way through the crowd, over to a table near the back that was, thankfully, devoid of others. "Daph and I have come here just about every Hogsmeade trip. She always says it'll be the last time, but we always make it! Oh, and they have cookies this time… mmmmm, butterscotch."
Butterscotch was quite pleasant.
"There," it was Millicent that spoke. "Silence."
Pansy, admittedly, took a second to understand what Bulstrode meant. Once she did, she felt like a fool. It was painstakingly obvious. With nought but a wave of her wand and the muttering of an incantation, the previous noises, loud and many as they'd been, were gone.
"Quick as ever," Daphne commented.
"Somebody's got to keep up with it."
Pansy snorted at Bulstrode's remark.
"Well? Time to get to the gossip, right?" it was Tracey that asked that as she looked around the table conspiratorially. "Daph, you go first. Tell Pansy and Milly about Draco—" Tracey looked at Pansy and Millicent then "— it's sweet by his standards, but he's still an idiot with too many Galleons."
Daphne rolled her eyes, and then she rolled her head in a similar fashion so as to look at Pansy and Milly without wasting any effort. "Draco said he'll be winning your 'heart' back post-haste. He seems convinced you're simply lashing out at him for one reason or another, he even went so far as to claim his father had said much the same to him about witches in general."
Pansy could and probably should have been miffed, but, she wasn't. If Draco was concerned with trying to win her back, something that'd be incredibly difficult to do, it'd mean he'd more than likely not do anything too idiotic.
She could work with that. At least until he grew wise… that might take until the following year.
"He's as stupid as ever," Millicent remarked without any beating around the bush. That'd always been her way. "Well? Pansy? Do those words fill you with joy or hope?"
"Worry, if anything," Daphne remarked. "I'd be cross if I had Draco constantly around me, hovering. I can only imagine the horror."
Pansy nodded at that. If the words which Daphne had overheard were true, Pansy was in for quite an annoying time ahead.
"Now that's over, why don't we talk about the tale of Ser May'Dae the Bold and Princess Selene? It's amazing," Tracey gushed.
Immediately, Pansy's attention drifted elsewhere as the girl went on and on about romance after romance, and from there, to the love lives of their classmates, of Daphne — much to Pansy's amusement when Greengrass narrowed her eyes threateningly enough for Tracey to change topics — of their Professors, and finally, chocolate.
By the time that last topic was coming around, the four were rising from their seats to head out, two hours having come and gone since first they'd arrived.
"You're not joining us?"
"Of course, she's not, she's probably promised her time to Potter. I wish I'd have a wizard come along, impress me, woo me enough to become docile as Pansy is and finally, get me every type of sweet imaginable — could you imagine?"
"No."
Pansy finally got the chance to interject in the conversation after Daphne's one-word answer regarding Tracey's question. Speaking of the latter witch, Pansy'd have to have words with her soon. She wasn't docile, not in the slightest.
Potter had simply gotten into her mind enough that she no longer desired to trip, run off or otherwise glare at most other people. Between him and the Carrows, they'd really gotten her out of her shell.
"I've promised a meal and walk to him. I'd be horrible if I stood him up," Pansy looked around Hogsmeade and, failing to see him where they'd come in from, looked back at her friends. "And the three of you? What'll you be doing once you've returned to Hogwarts?"
"Sleeping." Tracey's answer was immediate and honest. Pansy didn't have a doubt in her mind that the other girl would be doing just that, especially when she kept resting a hand on her belly; she'd packed away much and more in terms of foodstuffs.
Daphne snorted, the sound amusing to Pansy who covered that behind a cough.
"I'll be taking a nap before I touch upon my potions notes. I'm not pleased with my marks and Professor Snape's given me the chance to redo our most recent potion," answered Millicent. Her answer seemed equally as honest as Tracey's.
As for Daphne, when Pansy looked at her, the girl simply shrugged before speaking. "I'll decide once I've returned. What I do depends on whether or not Tracey's able to fall asleep — if she can't, which I imagine will be the case after all the sugar she's consumed, I imagine we'll be walking the perimeter of the lake as we've done before."
"Awww, you're already thinking about walking with me and I haven't even pestered you once. I really have grown on you," Tracey cooed as she reached out and pinched at Daphne's cheeks, the latter girl swatting incessantly at her hand as a cat might when one tried to pet it without permission.
"You've not grown on me, you've worn me down," Daphne said with a huff as she finally stepped away from Tracey's searching hands. "We'll see you back in the—" Daphne slapped away one of Tracey's hands that grew too close "—dormitory, Parkinson."
At that, the three other Slytherin witches finally departed, leaving Pansy alone.
That wasn't the case for very long, for before too long passed, Pansy noticed something queer, and something that caused an uneasy feeling to form in her stomach. One that gradually grew to be, perhaps, a touch angry as well.
Pansy crept closer to the duo she'd initially spotted, and as stealthily as she could manage. It was Harry and Granger, and the two were coming back from a path that led to the outskirts of Hogsmeade. So far as Pansy could tell with a quick glance sent beyond the two Gryffindors, there was precious little of interest out that way.
That caused that earlier feeling of unease to well up again. It reminded her of when Draco would avoid her and instead, focus his time on other witches back when he'd been running other wizards away from her; his family name and the people who had his back too much for most to want to compete with, or draw wrath from.
Pansy took another few steps closer, her body shielded by way of a tree and a portion of a building. By this point, she could just make out what the two were discussing.
"... he looked tired. I hope he's not doing this at his own expense," Harry said, the initial part of his sentence lost on Pansy.
"I'm sure he knows what he's doing, Harry," Hermione answered. "Don't you have someplace to be off to now — I thought I remembered you saying as much."
Harry brought up his wand and cast the Tempus charm, alerting him to the time; Pansy spied him doing so and found out for herself just how late the hour had gotten. She'd spent a bit more time with her friends than she'd planned to, but Harry seemed to have done much the same, so she was vindicated in that regard.
"I do," Harry exclaimed, his eyes going back to Hermione. "Thanks, 'Mione — see you back in the Tower, yeah?"
As he finished saying those words, he reached out and hugged the Muggleborn girl. Pansy was careful to watch the embrace, but, she was pleased to see that it looked platonic. That meant Granger wouldn't be a rival that she'd need to look out for. How splendid was that?
"See you there, Harry," Hermione said, taking a few steps away before she turned to look over her shoulder and address Harry before he left. "Please, do try and stay out of trouble with Parkinson. I'm sure she's lovely, but Draco and the others certainly aren't."
Pansy rolled her eyes at the words of warning. Draco would remain a non-problem for the foreseeable future, a wondrous thing in and of itself; when added to the fact that the most outspoken in Slytherin wouldn't move forward without him, it turned perfect. Pansy was free to spend her time as she pleased, thus strengthening her bonds outside of her own small and exclusive circle.
The Carrow brats had been right, Pansy huffed. I'll make sure to shower them with gifts come Yule. Mayhaps I'll even introduce them to Harry. I can only imagine the number of questions they might have for him.
There were words said betwixt Harry and Hermione that Pansy hadn't caught on account of her own thoughts and the quietness in which they'd been spoken. Whatever had been said had come and gone, much like Granger, but Harry had started off again. Pansy blinked, realising he was approaching rapidly where she found herself standing, and thus, she darted back behind the building.
From there, she looked around, found a shop, and entered it. When she took a cursory glance around the place, she found out that she'd entered another of the souvenir-type shops. From the floor to the wall and scattered around atop various tables, shelves or clothing racks, were various 'goods' one might wish to collect. Ironically enough, it was one such rack of clothes that Pansy found herself near upon entering, and on the rack was clothing the colours of Gryffindor. None of them carried Harry's name, but it was obvious whom they were in reference to.
Whosoever had thought of doing so was quite business-minded too, Pansy would admit. They'd get away without needing to pay anybody else for the clothing, and if people wished to do so, they could add Harry's name to the back of it simply enough.
Pansy shook her head and stepped out… and Harry almost instantly found her. He was standing amidst others along the main road, his head scanning the area, looking for her, she imagined.
Harry made his way over to her in a couple of dozen steps, not calling out until he was closer to her so as to avoid drawing attention to them. "Hey," he greeted, now standing a foot or so across from her. "I was running a bit late, sorry. There was something I had to take care of that went a bit longer than I was expecting it to."
"That's fine," Pansy said, not all that bothered by his being slightly tardy. "It gave me the chance to visit with my friends longer than I otherwise would have — you're dressed quite well today too."
She looked him up and down, and much to her surprise, she found he was wearing more wizarding-like garments than those of the Muggle design. Maybe it could be claimed that he was wearing a fusion of the two; she certainly spied the fact that his outermost layer was enchanted. As for his typically messy hair, that was stored safely under a warm-looking hat.
He'd done quite well; the past him would be put to shame, easily.
"Thanks. I thought I'd try something on that I'd been sent by family," Harry patted down the outermost layer which she'd referenced earlier, his smile of greeting growing into something wider and even more charming. "I hadn't thought there'd be enchanted clothing, stupid that, isn't it?"
I could teach him so much, Pansy thought internally. Harry had learned bits and pieces of Magical culture from her in the time they'd spent together thus far, 'twas true, and the same could be said of her learning about the Muggle world, queer as that was. Even still, she'd not but touched the tip of the iceberg, so to say. There was much and more left for Harry to learn if he truly wanted to enjoy life in the Magical world; there was no doubt he'd come to love it either.
Maybe she'd allow him to take her to one of those Muggle films he'd talked about. As his reward, of course.
"Not remotely. Many don't learn until they come to Hogwarts. It's only… old families that tend to know early," Pansy had nearly said Purebloods, but she'd refrained from doing so out of respect for Harry. Undoubtedly, that was still a touchy topic on account of Granger and Draco. She clapped her hands together and spoke again. "Now, whereabouts are we headed?"
Harry took one last step and slid his arm through hers; that was one such nugget of information she'd given him that he'd always seemed to remember without issue or pause. After he looped their arms, he turned her slowly along with himself and started them off at a casual pace. There was plenty of time left for them at Hogsmeade, but all the same, Pansy felt impressed by his patience. All too often, Draco and the others would be running chaotically from place to place in all too boyish a way.
It was like they had no knowledge of respect or courtesies.
"I was thinking we'd go and have tea and whatever else you'd like to get warm. From there, I don't mind one way or another," Harry said, genuine-sounding and sweet.
Enough so that Pansy nearly cooed in response. Fortunately, she contained herself and affixed him with a smile. He truly was a wonderful boy, from his assistance to Fleur and recognition of Cedric's assistance to his manners and the deeds which he'd done throughout their joint time at Hogwarts.
I'll have to keep all of those other witches at bay.
"Tea and warmth sound wonderful," Pansy answered, and from there, the two walked in idle chatter.
They discussed the weather, the tournament, Fleur and Cedric, and the new relationship in which the four were connected, Hermione and those whom Harry called friends — he'd even mentioned her mother, the lasting memory of the woman in his mind, a positive one… thankfully.
As for the trip, it would go on to last nearly four hours. Throughout that time, similar or the same topics arose, new ones were found, they'd gone to eat and to shop, on walks and sat in benches overlooking much of Hogsmeade.
It made for one of Pansy's most precious days… not that she'd say as much to a soul.
May 27, 1995
Pansy was sitting along the shore of the lake with Harry, Fleur, Cedric, Cho and three other French Magicals; one of which was Fleur's little sister, when news of what happened and the commotion thereof reached them.
Initially, she and those with whom she was seated assumed the commotion a good distance away from where they were sat was on account of a fight that might have broken out or maybe an Acromantula or some other creature had come out. That was quickly put to rest when much of the crowd was dispersed at the behest of the Professors and Ministry staff who'd arrived within ten minutes.
"They wouldn't be there if they weren't needed," Cedric commented, his words more serious than she was used to hearing. Typically, many thought of him as a joker, but one that was kind-hearted and oft did his best to avoid confrontation or settle peacefully the fights of others. Even most of Slytherin didn't despise him.
"What do you think's happened?" the question belonged to Cho as the group continued watching the events unfold before their very eyes.
Nobody seemed to have a response. None that seemed to make sense, anyhow. Instead, they continued to watch as their peers grew nearer to them or went in other directions whilst the staff of Hogwarts or the Ministry began moving something that seemed covered.
The group wasn't left wondering for very long. Not when some of those who'd been dispersed from the crowd gradually found their way over to the trio of champions and the company thereof. Pansy moved closer to Harry and more towards the outskirts of the group as it enlarged, not wanting to be in the middle of so many people she wasn't familiar with.
"Really?"
Cedric asked with exclamation, a look of confusion that formed into a multitude of other expressions following shortly thereafter. Apparently, whatever claim that'd been made had been pretty outlandish.
The person that responded, Zacharius, Pansy believed, nodded and said it again, louder. "It was one of the Ministry men, Crouch Senior — he's dead," there arose hushed murmurs and exchanged looks as a result of those words, but Zacharius continued. "He'd come stumbling from the woods, somebody said. Apparently, he hadn't been able to speak or do much of anything, and when people ran off for a Professor to help, he was dead."
Pansy noticed then that a look was exchanged between Cedric, Fleur and Harry. All three of the Champions seemed to have a hint of nervousness flash through them.
"You're certain, Zach?" Cedric asked, the boy wanting further clarification.
Zacharius nodded, and then he rushed off elsewhere, his direction, Hogwarts. Like most Hufflepuffs, Pansy likened his doing so to the need of speaking the gossip first. If any needed to know the happenings of another person, you had simply to ask the overly-nosy Hufflepuffs. One might say there was one fact minimum to learn about somebody if you asked the right person.
Fleur coughed, even that sounding strangely soft and feminine. Pansy couldn't help but want to pout at how effortless it seemed for the French witch.
"We can go back to our carriage. It would be more calm, and safe," Fleur's eyes fell on Gabrielle for a fraction of a second before they returned to looking at the various faces of those gathered. It was evident the French witch was still cautious, worried even, for the safety of her sister.
There was an exchange of looks again, a collective of nods, and not more than five minutes later, a smaller group was within the confines of Fleur's room aboard the carriage. Pansy still found it fascinating, that being the magic that went into the work of the carriages — that wasn't to mention how envious she was of Fleur's ornate, expensive, grandiose-looking room.
It seemed a marvel of modern magic with a taste in fashion few would ever come to possess.
"It is strange, non?" Fleur asked once everybody was seated; Cedric, Harry, Pansy, Fleur and Gabrielle had been the ones brought into Fleur's room. "I did not think the tournament would be so dangerous after the comments of safety."
Harry looked like he was about to huff, but he didn't. "I'd say Hogwarts and the Ministry have a dodgy record when it comes to keeping promises on stuff like that. They've bungled a lot from what I've seen — no offence, Cedric. It's not your dad's fault."
"You're fine, mate," Cedric said with a wave of his hand as if that hadn't so much as been a possibility. "Harry's right, anyhow. The Ministry or I guess you could say the Minister and the Wizengamot, aren't very good at their jobs."
Fleur seemed put out by that, but a beaming smile soon returned as she looked betwixt Harry and Cedric. "It is a good thing we have decided to make peace then, non? With only one task, we are able to look out for one another. Victoire does not matter to me."
Cedric seemed to agree with that readily enough, as did Harry. Each of the two boys seemed more focused on their safety and that of their friends than the thousand-Galleon reward. Eternal glory wasn't much of a reward either, least of all if you died without so much as earning the title.
"We could meet a bit more often to come up with plans for the third task," Cedric suggested suddenly. "I know we intrude from time to time on Harry's time with the lovely Miss Parkinson—" Cedric bowed to her with a gracious smile "—but it'd definitely make sure we know how to work together. Think of it like Quidditch practice, yeah? You've got to know what your teammates are capable of if you wanna win on the pitch."
Leave it to wizards to turn something as serious as safety into something Quidditch-related, Pansy thought with a muted sigh. I wonder what Ha—
"Cedric's got a good point," Harry said then, interrupting Pansy's train of thought whilst answering the exact question she'd just about been ready to pose to herself. "It'd be good if we practised together to know what we can do. Maybe we could come up with some plans too. We already know some of the tricks they've used so far."
And thus, thenceforth until the sun began to set, the trio of Champions as well as Pansy began to converse about a variety of topics, all of which were related to the tournament. There was nearly a month left or thereabout when it came time for the final task to come; plenty of time, in other words, remained for the Champions to utilise.
Pansy and Harry each were on their way back to Hogwarts proper. Cedric had left ahead of them by nearly ten minutes, saying something about Cho and how he'd made plans to eat with her when she'd left their initial group earlier on in the day.
"It's still strange seeing so many people around, isn't it?" Harry asked in passing as they walked past a group of four. "It'll be even stranger when all the Durmstrang and Beauxbaton students are gone. I reckon I'll just about be getting used to them by the time they're leaving."
"I quite liked the peace and quiet sans their company, but I'd not be telling the complete truth if I claimed I'd not miss a few specific guests," Pansy responded. Fleur, a witch she'd initially felt much trepidation towards, had become a wonderful acquaintance. One that had a wealth of knowledge regarding fashion, cosmetic charms and even, on occasion, offered romantic advice.
Pansy would never have suspected Fleur to be similarly enraptured at the thought of romance in much the same way as Tracey. In a way, Pansy imagined it was Fleur's yearning for romance that wasn't correlated to her ancestry; it made her feel sorry for her fellow witch.
"Cedric will be gone next year too, and then Quidditch will be all too easy without him," Harry said wistfully.
"I'm sure you'll manage."
Harry grinned at her. It looked like he was up to no good, but he was Harry. She doubted he'd so much as cursed once in his left, let alone broken a myriad of rules much like how Draco operated. If she was wrong, she'd just about eat her favourite pair of shoes, heels and all.
The two entered Hogwarts proper, the halls alight with torch light then and lacking the windy, cold quality of the outdoors. Immediately, Pansy sighed as she felt the heat that resonated within those aforementioned halls; she'd grow cold again, she knew, but that change of temperature was deliriously blissful.
"Only one more task," Harry remarked suddenly. He looked at her then, the noise of the stairways ahead reaching them as they moved further. "Have I said thanks for all the help you've given me? Without you and 'Mione, I don't think I'd have done quite so well."
Pansy's response came before she'd even thought of it, her mind seemingly speaking of its own volition. "You needn't thank me. We're quite close."
"How close?"
That response of his made her blink. They'd gone on a date, she'd kissed his cheek… Pansy thought of her parents and how might they react, and then she looked around. In the passage with her and Harry, was not so much as one other soul. In other words, they were completely alone.
Pansy looked at Harry, her eyes lingering on his lips, and as if magic itself moved them, the two seemed closer. The heat of the torches seemed more intense, the orange light they gave almost causing Harry to glow as her head raised and his lowered, and then…
Contact. Pansy's lips found those of Harry's, and slowly, tentatively, the two began to kiss. It was a first true kiss for her, and she imagined, a first for Harry if the lack of rumours proved true. As she drew nearer, her fists balling up the fabric of his shirt as she smelled the cologne he'd put on earlier in the day, she couldn't help but take greater notice of him.
He was larger than her, his body more firm-feeling and his jaw, sharper. Much sharper. Even his lips felt rougher when compared to the smooth, soft flesh of hers.
They pulled apart then, Pansy's eyes meeting Harry's.
And then they met again, in the privacy of a dank, musky and long-abandoned classroom.
June 5, 1995
Pansy had just exited the Slytherin common room and turned around when she felt the presence of another person. In an instant, she spun around to see who might have just appeared behind her, but her hackles needn't rise when she saw them; her cousins. They were silent as ever.
"Flora, Hestia," Pansy said, her tone steady even if her heart rate was up. "You rose earlier than I thought you might."
"We were worried."
"There was talk of a conversation to be had with you."
The pair finished in unison. "Breakfast?"
Pansy blinked at them. She hadn't heard of any conversation to be had with her. "Who was supposed to be speaking with me?" she started walking after posing the question, her destination, the Great Hall, for the breakfast which her cousins had just mentioned.
"Your previous love interest," said Hestia.
"He was very specific that soon, he'd converse with you," Flora continued.
As before, they finished together. "You'd see the errors of your ways and stop spending additional time with Potter."
Pansy was momentarily focused on their unity; it'd always been what creeped Pansy out regarding the pair. It was almost as if they were one person with two bodies, such was their chemistry. Then again, Pansy didn't have a twin, nor any siblings for that matter. She wasn't quite sure how siblings worked.
After rethinking their final words, Pansy looked at them with a thoughtful expression on her face. "When was this said?"
"Yesterday," Hestia answered.
"In the late evening. You were already asleep, otherwise, we would have spoken with you," Flora elaborated as they stopped, one on either side of her. "You would be wise to stay near Greengrass and the others, or us."
"Quite wise," Hestia murmured; each was especially serious, the expressions they wore made that clear enough.
"I'll keep that in mind — my thanks cousins," Pansy gave a polite, familial smile to each, and then resumed their walking. The silence after Pansy's words lasted for not more than a few seconds before the twins broke it.
"Did your father write to you about Defense?"
"We were told to avoid detentions and request mediation should we earn one."
The two looked at her in tandem. "You should do the same," they told her.
Pansy furrowed her brows but nodded slowly nonetheless. The Carrows were much like her father was. They believed in the old ways which meant doing away with much of the new, people included. If a warning was given to the Carrows regarding Mad-Eye Moody, then Pansy would follow that same warning on the minimal chance there was something off about him.
Caution and perceptiveness were very important.
"Is there anything more to offer than that, or simply the warning?" Pansy inquired. If that was all, the warning was fine on its own… but the chance to gleam more information should always be taken when available. Mayhaps there was something useful therein for her to take advantage of, and if not her, Harry.
"We're unsure of what the issue is."
Even they don't know. Interesting, Pansy thought with a raise of her eyebrows. It was a rare day indeed when the Carrow twins were without information. That reputation's persisted since the time of their grandmother, Corene. They claim there's nothing she doesn't know.
"If all goes well, we'll not find out either, is that right?" Pansy would imagine it was. Her, wrong? Never.
"Correct," Hestia answered.
Flora nodded.
The trio continued on in relative silence save for the sound of rain, forceful and fast, impacting the various windows they passed by. Outside, a storm was raging that remained invisible to those in Slytherin; the view underwater never changed save for the inhabitants that swam by. That silence continued up the staircase, through the first two halls, and ended only when a portrait made a particularly loud noise that echoed through enough halls to make whatever had been said, unintelligible.
"I wish they'd take them all down," Pansy said aloud and with a huff. That sudden, loud noise had startled her. How obnoxious and discourteous did one have to be?
Neither of the Carrows said anything, one — Hestia — had her lips rise into a smirk whilst Flora looked out the nearest window as they passed it. As Pansy recalled, she too enjoyed it when it stormed out. There was something so calming about nature when it was at work.
"Whe—" Pansy began, but she stopped, her eyes narrowing reflexively as she took in the trio of wizards at the end of the hall she and the Carrows had just turned down.
There, loitering and speaking to one another with varying looks of impatience on their faces, were Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. Pansy couldn't help but glance at her cousins again; they'd been right, as always.
Whensoever I go into politics, I'll have to ensure I take them with me. It'd be so very easy to have them at my side, Pansy mused internally. Those thoughts, far-fetched as some might say they were, weren't entirely outside the realm of reason either. She was the sole Parkinson in the main branch of her generation. There'd be a few allowances made out of respect for her family name alone.
"There!" Crabbe grunted as he pushed himself off the wall he'd been leaning on to point out Pansy and the Carrows.
Goyle followed suit, the two boys going to either side of Draco with their arms folded. Each seemed to have eaten a fair bit already too, if the crumbs on their clothing and the large, bulbous shape of their stomachs were anything to go by. Pansy couldn't help it when her upper lip twitched of its own accord.
Crabbe and Goyle have Purebloods a bad name regardless of the Purebloods in question. Without manners, without courtesies, without thought… the two weren't deserving of their blood, much less the title wizard. That wasn't a recent thought either, that was one in which she'd had in her mind for a very long time. Depending on the conversation that would soon play out, mayhaps those words might finally be spoken aloud.
I like my chances with Flora and Hestia by my side, Pansy thought cynically as she eyed up the three approaching wizards.
Draco, finally opening his mouth to speak, she had to say didn't look quite as angry or red as she thought he might. As she'd heard before, maybe he truly did think she was simply playing him by using Potter. It'd given them a large amount of time apart sans consequences, but now, she supposed, that grace period so to speak, was over.
"Pansy," Draco said, his voice even, but forceful. He drew his confidence from the two overly large boys beside him. "I'm aware of what you've been doing. You've been aware that I've been aware — it ends today. You'll not spend so much as another minute with Potter unless you're forced together in class. I'll go and get you a dress or whatever, you've gotten your way," when he finished, his last comment especially, he seemed more dismissive than anything else.
That bothered her more than if he'd simply finished with his demand. Had he finished with that demand alone, Pansy would have simply moved along. It might have taken her a few seconds to decide to do so on account of what it meant, but she probably wouldn't have needed the extra nudge he'd given her by way of attempting to buy her.
"I'll not be agreeing to your terms, Draco," Pansy said, her eyes staring into his, intense and firm. "My time is my own; only I decide who it's spent with, and in what quantities. I'll not be bought or bartered for."
Pansy wouldn't humour him further. Even with the two great big goons on either side of them, there was plenty of space in the hallway left for her and the Carrows to traverse. Thus, Pansy continued to stare him down as she and her cousins manoeuvred around them; Draco, for his part, remained silent, clearly perplexed.
When they were a few dozen steps away, essentially standing where Draco and his followers had just been, that perplexion finally seemed to give way to anger. He turned, the action drawing Pansy's attention in the event that he or the others were stupid enough as to reach for their wands, and when he did so, she took note of how red his face seemed to be.
Anger had replaced his confusion, which was readily apparent. "You'll regret this, Pansy," his eyes flickered beyond her too, but he didn't speak again as he turned and left with sans another look.
"He'll be writing home."
"We'll do the same."
Hestia and Flora turned Pansy, and continued their march to the Great Hall, speaking again. "You should do so as well," they said together.
"I'll have to. Father will hear from Lucius before me if I don't go and do so post-haste," Pansy said. changing course to the owlery, where she'd quickly put words to parchment. At the very least, her mother would back her, and doing so would force her father into doing so as well, begrudgingly as it might be.
All of this trouble for relationships with those outside of Slytherin. Were Slytherin House not so few in number and clearly faltering, the decision might have been far more difficult to make, Pansy said to herself.
That was nothing but the truth as well. She'd seen the pictures her mother and father kept stored away, she'd seen the family trees of the past in comparison to those of today. Not but five or six decades ago, there were nearly thrice as many Purebloods; one might also note that those in Slytherin were oft rude, egregiously arrogant and recently, receiving the lowest marks in classes.
Harry far surpasses them all, Pansy thought vindictively, her mind comparing Draco and Harry, and in nearly every regard, Harry emerged victorious. Where he stumbled lay only in inheritance and deeds of land, a situation that might easily be remedied on account of his fame.
"Galleons."
"It's not happened yet."
"It will."
"Perhaps."
Pansy wasn't sure what her cousins were discussing, and as she made to walk into the Great Hall beside them, the trip to the owlery having been completed in short order, she didn't mind that fact. Undoubtedly, she'd missed a portion of the conversation, or it'd happened, by and large, without words needing to be said between them.
"Galleons."
It was the other twin that spoke this time, and right as Flora — Pansy was fairly certain it was Flora — made to speak, another person did.
"Morning, Pansy."
Slowly, her attention was diverted from her cousins and given to Harry; he wasn't alone either. Granger was at his side. Weasley was, still, noticeably absent. Mayhaps they'd still not completely settled the issue that'd arisen between them.
"Galleons, told you," that was Flora, the one that'd previously been about to speak, and her tone was as victorious-sounding as Pansy had ever heard before.
Hestia, without speaking, took out three Galleons and passed them to Flora. After the exchange, the pair glanced betwixt the newcomers and Pansy, and then made to sit at the end of Slytherin's table; their eyes remained on Pansy and Harry once they were seated and served.
Not even a farewell, Pansy pouted. "Good morning, Harry," her eyes moved beyond him, "Granger."
"Parkinson."
Harry's response was more enthusiastic as he drew closer to her, and hopeful too. They weren't within the confines of the Great Hall either, meaning they had far more privacy than if they had been.
"Do you fancy studying tonight with 'Mione and me?"
Pansy looked at Granger, who gave a slight nod. Her response came afterwards. "I'd not be opposed."
"Wicked," Harry exclaimed, he made to speak again, but his eyes narrowed and his lips shifted as the words he'd been about to speak, changed. When they were spoken, they hadn't been what she'd been expecting, and she was forced to turn and look at what earned such a look.
She wasn't surprised.
It was Draco, and behind him, the two brutes from earlier.
"Let's move over a bit," Harry said as he gestured to the hall that'd lead to a courtyard not far from where they were currently loitering; whilst he spoke, Harry's eyes remained on Malfoy and the others.
Pansy was rather glad of Harry's vigilance. Draco wouldn't be quite so stupid as to try anything with them together, especially near to the Great Hall, meaning Professors, as they were. Mayhaps seeing Pansy with Harry so soon after that confrontation would do him well too; she was his to order around no longer. The Carrows had finally gotten what she imagined their real wish had been all along.
In hindsight, and thinking back to the vast time she'd spent with Draco, he'd never truly been quite so important as others made him out to be. Were it nought for Snape, his potions marks would be lower — that was Draco's best mark too. He'd oft go on about that.
"Ron's going to steal your muffin," Granger warned, seemingly not overly bothered about Malfoy or the others even as they grew nearer, the entrance of the Great Hall, their destination. "Parkinson, did you have the astronomy map I'd asked for? As I said to you and Harry, I'll give you the constellation I've drawn the year prior for it."
Pansy nearly arched a brow at Granger's peculiar words, but she remained walking with the aforementioned girl and Harry. After another few steps, realisation dawned on her as to what Granger's intentions had been; the other witch was more clever than she'd initially thought, it would seem.
I'll keep that in mind, Pansy thought as she made to respond. "Obviously," she said haughtily, her nose raised.
Draco seemed to find some sort of amusement as he snorted, and then, he and the others were gone. Pansy didn't have to look over her shoulder to feel his lingering gaze as he departed. She could practically feel his eyes upon the entirety of her back.
"What's that about?" Harry asked, his brows furrowed as hers had nearly been.
Granger responded when Pansy looked at her, the other witch speaking as they turned a corner to loiter out of sight from the main entrance to the Great Hall. In doing so, they'd be able to avoid any further interactions with those they'd rather avoid, and prevent the nosy few from listening in; one Prophet article was bad enough as it was… Pansy idly wondered just what had happened in regard to that.
She'd have to write home again. Ah, Morgana, a second letter home in such a short amount of time. Pansy could already imagine what her parents might think.
"You caught on as quick as I'd expected," Granger said, the comment directed at Pansy as the latter witch finally finished speaking with Harry; mayhaps it'd been finished sooner too, but Pansy'd been so lost within her thoughts she'd hardly paid attention to the other witch's words.
"Speaking of expectations, you've just broken one I'd had about you — Granger, lying?" Pansy tutted, playfulness seeping into her tone, a tone that was, mayhaps, still a touch haughty. "I can scarcely believe it even now."
At that, Harry laughed and Granger smiled, the latter look was still guarded or strained, Pansy noticed, but the tension that'd been betwixt them for so long had finally begun to dissipate. Who would have thought the catalyst for such a happening would be providing aid to Harry as he went through the Tri-Wizard tournament?
Certainly not Pansy.
"You've not told me the time you and Granger want to meet tonight, Harry," Pansy reminded as they finally came to a complete stop, her mind only briefly thinking back to the Great Hall; there was plenty of time left to eat, and the Carrows were notoriously slow in doing so. "Or if there's a topic we're meant to specifically cover — I've been unlucky thus far in uncovering secrets regarding the final task."
"So have we," Harry confirmed as he nodded to Granger, but then he smiled and shrugged, a hand finding one of Pansy's as the trio looked to the courtyard, dim as it was from the darkened skies. "I think we'll be fine, though. I've got you two helping me, and when I'm inside, I'll be working with Fleur and Cedric."
Pansy allowed those words to ease the worry that'd begun to bubble at the mention of the, as of yet, unknown trials within the final task. She swallowed, looked at Granger, and spoke to the other girl.
"We'll not be rid of him for quite some time, isn't that right, Granger?"
The other witch's response was perfect. "Not if we have anything to say about it."
And by Morgana, did they have much and more to say.
June 23, 1995
When Pansy opened her eyes, bleary and sore as they were, she was greeted with the ever-calming, ever-present view of the depths of the Black Lake. It was mystifying and wondrous as could always be said of it, and as she rose, her hands rubbing at those aforementioned unfocused eyes, she sighed.
Today, she and almost everybody at Hogwarts had gone through the end-of-year exams. As could be expected, they were difficult and in some instances, exceedingly challenging, but she'd completed them with confidence. Her marks had never been in the utmost echelon of Hogwarts' greatest, but she was no slouch. Pansy was consistent in achieving marks that would see her in the top twenty-five per cent of her year.
When it came to charms alone, only then could she claim to be amidst the best in her year.
She yawned then, her thoughts of self-joy ending as she came to stand. This was the final night before the final task of the tournament. Harry, Fleur and Cedric had met without her today, and she imagined during those meetings, the trio went over teamwork and last-minute adjustments to whatever plan they'd decided to follow through with. Pansy had taken part in a fair few, but she doubted she'd been present for each and every idea as presented.
Cedric would have most assuredly presented one that'd prove outlandish if only to ease the tensions of Harry and Delacour, Pansy thought. She was only loathe that she'd not been present when such an idea had been made. I'll have to have Harry tell me on the morrow when he's finished with this nonsensical tournament madness.
"Were you napping earlier?"
Pansy yawned again, and as she did so, she turned to look at Tracey, the girl's presence surprising her on account of the early hours of the evening. Soon, Pansy surmised, Harry would be out of his meeting and awaiting her company until the time came for them to sneak back whence they needed to be for curfew.
"I was," she said as she thought about when would be the proper time to leave, and whether or not she needed to wash before seeing him. Pansy hadn't done anything particularly strenuous, but, if there was a potential for this night to be a bitter-sweet one, she'd be remiss if she didn't pull out every stop she could to ensure it was as lovely as possible. "The exams were a touch more troublesome than I'd have thought."
At that, Tracey grinned goofily as she moved close enough to lightly elbow Pansy in the ribs. "Too much time with Potter, huh?" she teased.
Pansy rolled her eyes, but she'd not respond. In truth, it was something along those lines — she'd spent much and more free time with him on account of the previous year and the friendship they'd fostered. When his name was then plucked from the Goblet, a feat that should have been impossible were those in charge competent, Pansy had assured him of her assistance. As she recalled, she'd not want her newest acquaintance, at the time, killed; the fact that his success thus far had only mildly, if even that, hindered her marks was a trade she'd take.
It wasn't as if she'd be expected to find work Post-Hogwarts anyhow. Her family was venerable and with vaults just as ancient. If disaster struck, they could weather it whilst drawing income from investments and ownership in a few businesses; her marks, thus, were of little importance.
"... that, I knew it!" Tracey was grinning victoriously and going on about only Morgana knew what — Pansy had been thinking, after all — and as she did so, Pansy simply sighed and shook her head.
Tracey and her antics, she mused internally as she summoned forth a change of clothes as well as her shower bag.
Pansy would make the most of an exceedingly quick twenty-minute wash.
As she'd thought, the wash had been quick, her hair had been styled just as hastily — without losing quality — and her attire was as immaculate as the single piece of jewellery she'd adorned herself in. That wasn't even to mention the soap and perfume she'd used. It smelled of flowers and fruits, a combination that Pansy imagined would draw Harry close.
At the merest thought of kissing Harry again, images of when last she did so drudged themselves up in her mind. Enough so to make her blush and squeeze shut her hands. It wouldn't do if she left with a blush soiling her cheeks. No, she'd have to throw over her person a robe, she was tempted to go so far as to disillusion herself.
It seemed a touch extreme, but she was of the opinion that she'd let nothing ruin this evening. Malfoys, Crabbes, Goyles and other potentially problematic persons be damned.
Pansy looked herself up and down in the mirror one last time, her eyes scanning for imperfections, and seeing none, she moved. From that moment on, time was a blur to her, until, she found herself outside the entrance to the abandoned classroom long since turned to their place of meeting.
As Pansy grew nearer, she heard the voice of another witch, and after a second, she made out who it was; Fleur. Cedric was probably just as likely to be present if the French witch was still here.
She moved to the door and pushed it open; as she thought, the three were together, but Fleur and Cedric were up, satchels over their shoulders and near where she found herself upon entering. Each, evidently, had been about to leave.
That was perfect.
"Pansy," the two greeted at nearly the same time.
Harry's greeting was a smile first and foremost, and then, a nickname he'd begun to use that made her narrow her eyes at him, "Hey, Pans."
It needed work.
"Fleur, Cedric," Pansy returned first, dipping her head to the pair as courtesy dictated. Her eyes focused on Harry next, and there they stood as the two aforementioned Magicals began to move past her. "Harry."
"Au revoir!"
"See ya Harry, Pansy."
And like that, the two were alone, the door shut behind Pansy with a resounding set of insidious-sounding giggles… from Cedric. Fleur seemed all the more interested in not prodding Harry and Pansy when it came to their romance; that didn't mean Pansy didn't notice the encouraging looks she'd get sent her way by the older witch.
"Hey."
Pansy looked at Harry then, the boy suddenly much closed than he'd been earlier. He was very close now.
"Hi," she said, her voice a touch softer than she'd meant it to be. Morgana, her stomach was turning against her too, and her heart… and her lungs.
In the next second that passed, she wasn't certain who it was, but her preparation and confidence evaporated as Harry's lips pressed against hers.