Time for Pansy's spotlight...

Pansy Parkinson has never been so angry, humiliated, outraged, indignant, honor-violated-ish in her entire life. "He's getting WHAT?"

"Marr-eed t'morrow. To 'Aphne's sistah." Goyle spoke while chewing his roasted turkey leg, inadvertently spitting bits of saliva-covered poultry on Pansy when he said the "t" in "sistah."

"URGH, GET AWAY FROM ME YOU FILTHY VERMIN!"

The other patrons of The Three Broomstick turned to look at whoever was screaming like a banshee. They lost interest though when they saw it was just a dumpy witch dressed in tight robes that did not flatter her budding love handles.

"Daphne's sister? Her sister?" Pansy grabbed the closest goblet near her and downed it in one gulp, then choked because it was Goyle's and he had ordered Butterbeer with extra salt, just the way he liked it.

"Uh-huh. 'Storia. She's real purty," added Goyle, grinning foolishly.

Pansy grabbed Goyle's collar. "Shut. Up," she hissed murderously.

Oh, so that's how you want to play it, Draco Malfoy. I don't talk to you for a while 'cause your father's a loser and so you run off to that sneaky-faced little bitch? HOW DARE YOU!

The wrath of a spurned woman is a force to be beheld (or something). Which was why the next day found Pansy dodging amongst Malfoy Manor's gardenia bushes, dragging along a confused and tired Goyle.

"Pantzy? Can we stop, I wanna go home."

"It's PANSY you great imbecile. And get down here will you, people are coming."

It was the guests arriving, chattering happily. Pansy inwardly cackled. They clearly had no idea there was to be no wedding today. That's right! Ms. Parkinson shall serve justice to those who deserved it! Just wait!

"Harry, do you smell something?" A woman asked as she passed by Pansy's bush.

"Must be the rubbish bin, Ginny."

"Hm, not that you mention it." The couple's voices trailed off as their footsteps faded.

Pansy fumed. He invited those low-life scum to his wedding but not her? HOW DARE HE!

"Alright, Goyle, remember the plan. You set off the Dungbombs and while everyone's running around I'll hex the bride." Hmph, let's see if he still wants to marry her if she's got boils all over her face!

"I dunno... won't Draco get mad?"

"No, he'll thank us," said Pansy sweetly. "NOW GO!"

Goyle scampered, which in his case meant crawling away at the speed of a behemoth. Pansy rolled up her sleeves and stealthily followed. The wedding was apparently to be held in the Manor's back garden. Pansy spotted Narcissa Malfoy talking to some guests near the food table. A man in a wheelchair sat beside her. Pansy squinted - was that Lucius? And was he... drooling?

"Oh look! They're here. Aw... aren't they beautiful?"

Everyone turned to gush at the bride and groom. "Now's the time!" hissed Pansy, shoving Goyle forward, who was busy fumbling with the Dungbombs. Caught unaware, he crashed into the ice sculpture which of course caused several people to scream. Pansy groaned. No time to lose! She raised her wand, aimed it at the surprised bride, mouth forming the delightful curse -

At the same time, Goyle, who was really diligent at following instructions, threw a Dungbomb into the air -

BOOM!

"Oh... my... Merlin!"

"Ah, gross!"

"That's terrible, I can't look at her!"

Pansy grinned with self-satisfaction. She did it! In your face, Malfoy! "BWAHAHA, HAHA - OW!" Strange, why did it hurt to maniacally laugh all of a sudden?

"P-Pantzy, are you alright?" inquired Goyle nervously.

The smoke from the Dungbomb was clearing. "PANSY?" Draco emerged, staring at his ex-girlfriend, shock causing his eyeballs to nearly pop out.

"Draco, that can't be Pansy," a female voice said. "She didn't look like that the last time I saw her..."

"But Astoria..."

Comprehension began to dawn on Pansy as she looked up to see a pretty blonde watching her curiously with bright blue-green eyes. A blonde, dressed in white. And no, her skin had no boils. In fact, it was flawless.

Pansy reached up to touch her own cheek, fingers shaking. Goyle was saying sheepishly, "I forgot those Dung-bums were anti-Spell-protected, Pantzy... so when I threw that one it hit your hex somehow midair and I guess your hex kinda got re-fected..."

The boil on Pansy's nose throbbed dangerously.

"NOOOO!"

She fainted.

Silence.

"Er, Draco? Since I'm here n' ever-thing, can I have some cake?"

"...you're the Best Man, mate."

"Oh yeah..."

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I don't like Pansy Parkinson. Can you tell?

And yeah, so maybe Harry attending Draco's wedding is a little far-fetched. But then I ask you this - how come Ron knew Draco's son's name is Scorpius? Hmm.

Goyle is stupid, but he's not as evil as Crabbe, so I think he deserves to remain Draco's best friend.

Do wheelchairs exist in the Wizarding World? hmm. Flying Wheelchair. I like the sound of that.