A/N: I'm so SORRY for the long, long, long delay. Academics has me up to my eyeballs in homework. And family life has been very, very hectic. I've also been very sick too. But hakuna matata, I hope it gets better soon.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, but the plot.
Please enjoy! And review!
December 4th
Pansy awoke with a pounding headache and an empty bed. Grabbing her aching head, she stumbled to her bathroom to find her hangover potion.
After throwing things around, she happily (or as happily as she could with a hangover) grabbed the hangover potion and took a hefty swig.
The pain instantly vanished. There was no fuzziness, no confusion. But she was annoyed.
How dare that handsome, green eyed devil leave without giving me a proper good bye snog.
She stomped back to her room and saw a note on the pillow Harry used.
This better be an apology for sneaking out. Gryffindor, my ass.
Dear Pansy,
It was nice talking to you. But I think it'd be best if we didn't tell anyone about last night.
H.P.
The note was immediately crushed in her hand.
Bloody coward.
Throwing the crumpled note in the air, she yelled: Incendio!
She glared at the note as it burst into hues of orange, red, and yellow. Slowly burning from white to black and into dark ashes.
Handsome, green eyed spineless coward.
With a wave of her hand, the ashes disappeared.
Before she was annoyed, now she was extremely irritated. She started to pace again.
She was irritated with both Potter and herself. She was irritated with Potter because he left and didn't want to talk about their drunken night together. She was irritated with herself because she couldn't remember a damn thing besides being asked to get a drink and waking up in the middle of the night to Potter sleeping in her bed.
Damn Potter. You get your stupid wish about not talking about our beautiful drunken night together because I can't remember a damn thing that happened anyway.
She stopped pacing.
Does Potter know that I know that he slept in my bed last night?
She began pacing again.
I'm sure he knows that I know. If he didn't, he wouldn't have left the note.
She stopped pacing.
What if he doesn't know that I know? Maybe that's why he left before I woke up. And maybe that's why he left the note in case I was confused as to how I got home.
She began pacing again.
There must be something that happened that's making Potter not want to talk about it. Besides sleeping, there must be something else. Was it something I said? Was it something he said?
I change my mind. Sorry Potter, but we're going to talk about last night. And if I'm lucky, maybe we'll do a little more than just talk.
After freshening up and grabbing a cup of java, she stood in her living room thinking. Pansy had to plot. She had only decided a few hours ago that she was going to confront Potter tonight.
But how? He avoided the press like the plague. He was top Auror and very busy with trying to still save the world. He was usually out on a mission or in his office writing reports. And there was no way in hell Pansy was going to go to the Ministry of Magic. She'd be criticized and verbally (possibly literally) killed on the spot. If he wasn't doing that, then he was with his lions. And she absolutely refused to converse with any of them again. Their last meeting was still fresh within her mind and she wasn't in the mood to duel anyone.
So she'd have to catch him by surprise. Especially alone. But fucking how? He's always with someone.
Think Pansy, think! I'm a Slytherin for Salazar's sake.
Pansy thought of several options for her plan.
Option 1: Send him an owl.
I can't send him an owl. He made it abundantly clear he didn't want to talk about it, so that might make him angry too. Plus, that would scare him off.
Option 2: Send him an anonymous note.
I can't send an anonymous note either. He'd probably throw it away and chalk it up to being from one of his adoring fans. And I am not one of those annoying fans. I'm better.
Option 3: Floo call.
I can't floo call him. I don't even know his floo channel!
Option 4: Stalk.
Hmmmmm. I could stalk him and wait until he's alone. But he might curse me. That's not a story I want to be telling our children one day. Besides, stalking just isn't my style.
Option 5: Kidnap Potter.
That's much more my style. But they'd send the whole Auror department after me. I don't want to end up in Azkaban, I'm too young to die.
Option 6: Talk to Hermione and have her tell Potter to meet her when he would really be meeting me.
She would never do that. Even though she is with Draco, she'd get suspicious. She's nosy and a meddler, she'd probably want to know why and I can't tell her yet. If I tell her, then she'd suspect that I like Potter and then she'd tell Draco. Draco would come find me and it'd just get out of control. No thanks.
Pansy let out a sound of frustration. How hard is it to see Potter in private?
She grabbed something to eat from her kitchen and still couldn't think of anything. What can I do? What can I do?
A smirk slowly formed upon her face.
Perfect.
Disgusting.
That was the first thing that came to mind when she entered Potter's house from the floo. She had to use Draco's floo because she knew that Potter's floo was connected to Draco's at the insistence of Hermione. There was no way that his floo would allow her entrance from her own floo. Sometimes the bookworm had her uses.
The house was cold, dark, dreary, and lifeless. It wasn't necessarily dirty, but it was so old. The walls were chipping and she didn't even want to get started on the decor.
"You there. What do you want?"
Pansy froze. No one was supposed to be here. Shit.
Pansy turned around and came face to face with a very old elf. "I'm here to see Potter."
"He's not here. What's your name?"
"Parkinson. Pansy Parkinson."
"I've heard about you."
Pansy's eyes narrowed. "Not everything you hear is true."
"But not everything is a lie either."
"Let her stay Kreacher."
Pansy turned, but saw no one was there.
"Come here, my dear."
Pansy followed the voice and came face to face with Walburga Black's portrait. Pansy recognized an old-fashion pureblood witch when she saw one and instantly donned her pureblood training as a young woman.
Pansy curtsied. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Black."
"Finally, a pureblood in the house of my fathers."
Pansy smirked.
"Parkinson. Strong pureblood family dating back generations of time. Too neutral for my taste, but well-bred and well-mannered," she said appraisingly.
"But why do you want to see Potter?" Walburga spat.
"I have to talk to him about a few things. Nothing drastic."
"Keep your secrets then. But what's that? A basket of food?"
Pansy tried to keep a neutral expression. "Well, yes. But there's also one more thing. It's for you."
With a subtle curl of her fingers and a silent incantation, Pansy conjured her a gift.
"For me, child? Well then. What are you waiting for? Let me see it."
Pansy reached into the basket and retrieved a bouquet of Pansies.
"They are beautiful."
"Thank you. I believe it would have been rude of me to come here without a gift for the head mistress of the home."
"Kreacher! Place my flowers in that antique vase. They are delightful."
As Kreacher came to do her bidding, Walburga trained her eyes on Pansy.
Standing straight, Pansy was doing her best not to flinch under the critical gaze. She kept her eyes averted, but she was all too familiar with that sort of appraisal. That gaze was used by all purebloods witches and wizards alike. She was being scrutinized from the last strand on her head all the way to her designer shoes. She knew she had to remain cool, calm, and collected.
After what felt like to have been hours (although only a few minutes), Walburga spoke: "You're pretty. You have excellent taste in fashion. You uphold pureblood etiquette as a witch. Are you a pureblood elitist?"
Pansy remained neutral. "I'm here to see Potter."
Walburga sneered, "You're a blood traitor."
Pansy responded, "You're a pureblood elitist."
"Muggleborns and half-bloods are scum, filth! Blood traitors don't deserve their magic."
"No."
"What did you say to me, blood traitor?"
Pansy ignored her question with her own. "Did you follow Voldemort?"
"His idea was brilliant. Cleansing the infestation of filthy mudbloods, half-bloods, and blood traitors."
"Ironic that he was a half-blood then, isn't it?"
"Shut your mouth."
"Muggleborns or half-bloods have no wizard ancestry and yet, they can perform magic like you and I who have magic running in our genetics due to generations of wizarding ancestry. That's magical. We aren't pure bloods, my blood and your blood is incestuous. It's not pure."
"GET OUT."
"I apologize Mistress Black, but I'm not leaving until I speak with Potter. If you'll excuse me, I must go into the other room."
"YOU BLOOD TRAITOR. YOUR PARENTS ARE FILTH."
Pansy whipped around and pointed her wand at the portrait. "You should be careful. Should I remind you that I have a wand and you are a portrait. I can lock you away, bury you six feet under, rip you to shreds, or burn you to a crisp."
Kreacher appeared within an instance. But Pansy wasn't afraid of him or his mistress.
"How dare you point your wand at me."
"I apologize, but my pureblood heritage taught me to always defend my parents. I'm sure you of all people would understand that."
"Leave my presence." Walburga spat.
Pansy curtsied. "It's been a pleasure."
Annoying twit.
With that, Pansy made her way towards the kitchen and dining area. Upon entering, she cast a critical eye around the drab kitchen. It seemed lifeless, empty.
She needed to clean and fix the kitchen, set the dining table, arrange the food, silverware, glasses, among other things.
With a deep breath, Pansy set about completing her tasks.
After one hour, everything was ready.
She magically changed her clothes into something comfortable such as a casual pajama jumpsuit with ballerina flats. [A/N: if anyone wants to see it, I can post a link to which casual pajama jumpsuit it is.]
These regular clothes might make Potter more comfortable instead of me being in a nightgown within his house. These should make me more approachable and less intimidating. I want Potter to talk to me, not run away. But I must admit, I do have that effect on people.
Looking over her handy work, Pansy took a seat at the dining table. It was time to wait.
Pansy awoke to a loud bang. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and yawned.
I wonder what that noise was. Is Potter here yet?
Pansy opened her eyes and looked at the entrance to the dining area. There Harry stood with an unreadable expression on his face and his wand at the ready.
Shit. I was supposed to surprise him, not him to surprise me.
"Potter."
"Pansy."
"I didn't break in. I just wanted to talk to you in private and repay you for buying me a drink last night, so I thought of this." She said, moving her arm to display the different dishes of food on the dinner table.
Harry looked over all the dishes and then back at Pansy.
"Why break into my home? Why not talk to me at the ministry or with my friends?"
Pansy rolled her eyes. "Potter, ask yourself those questions again. The answers are obvious."
He stared at her, blankly.
And they call you the head auror.
"Have you forgotten? I'm persona-non-grata. If I enter the ministry, I must prepare my ears for all the incessant chatter. I must prepare my dueling spells. I must prepare my eyes to see faces that I will happily be ready to forget. As for your friends, I don't need to explain that."
Pansy yawned. "Aren't you hungry?"
He didn't make a move to come forward.
"I didn't poison them or spike them with anything, in case you were wondering."
He still didn't make a move to come forward.
Pansy was starting to get irritated. "Potter, get your arse over here and come eat. I didn't spend hours making these dishes for them to go to waste."
Potter's eyebrows rose. "You made them?"
Pansy huffed. "Yes. Is that so hard to believe?"
Harry was about to respond, but she cut him off. "Don't answer that."
Harry still didn't come forward.
Pansy was officially irritated now. "If you won't eat them, I'll give them to someone else. Kreacher!"
If he didn't think I'd changed before, he will now.
Surprisingly, Kreacher came forward.
"Would you like some food?"
"You are neither my mistress nor my master."
I will be in the future.
"I understand that. But seeing as Potter doesn't want to eat, maybe you would like to?"
Kreacher looked from Pansy to Harry, repeatedly. With a slight nod from Harry, Kreacher moved forward. Pansy served him something from every dish on the dining table. Before Kreacher could leave, she called, "Tiffy!"
A house-elf with clothes appeared. "Yes, Mistress?"
"Would you like something to eat?"
"Oh no, Mistress. I should be serving you, not you serving me. I'm a bad elf." Before Tiffy was able to punish herself, Pansy quickly forbade her and offered her a plate of food.
"Tiffy, keep Kreacher company, will you?"
Tiffy looked at Kreacher. "Yes, Mistress."
As the two elves left the dining area, Harry finally moved forward to take a seat.
"Before you say anything, Tiffy is a free house-elf. She's also paid. The only reason she remains as my house-elf is out of her free will. She's been with the family for a very long time. She's practically family."
Harry looked at Pansy with disbelief and shock. But Pansy paid him no mind. She waited hours for him to come home and she was starving. She was planning on eating, with or without him. Pureblood manners, be damned.
Pansy began to eat, but Harry still hadn't reached for any food. She raised her eyebrow, silently challenging him.
Narrowing his eyes, Harry piled his plate high with food and ate. Apparently, he was starving too.
After a few minutes of eating, Harry finally spoke up. "Is there something you wanted to talk about?"
Here we go.
"Why don't you want to talk about last night?"
Harry looked her in the eyes. "Why do you want to talk about it?"
Pansy's eyes narrowed. "I asked first."
"There's nothing to -"
"Why don't you want to talk about it?"
Harry placed his fork down and looked at her. "What do you want to know?"
"What happened?"
"I bought you a drink, we talked, I brought you home, I left. End of story."
"Liar."
"I beg your pardon."
Pansy cocked her head to the side. He seemed sincere, but there was something that wasn't right; she couldn't put her finger on it. "If that's all that happened, then why can't I tell anyone that I had drinks with the Savior of the Wizarding world?"
Harry's eyes were calm, but his body was tense.
Hmm. What is he hiding?
"If there's nothing wrong about it, I think I'll tell the little she-weasel about our bonding time. I'm sure she'd be delighted."
Pansy moved to leave the table, but Harry grabbed her wrist. "Please don't."
Narrowing her eyes, she couldn't resist asking him. "Are you afraid to be seen with me?"
He looked away.
Pansy wrenched her arm out of his grasp. "Is the Boy Who Wouldn't Die ashamed to be seen with the little 'ole pureblood Pansy Parkinson?"
At this point, Pansy was standing while Harry remained seated at the dining table.
He kept his eyes averted. But his knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on the dinner table.
"Is being seen with a Slytherin not acceptable by your precious friends?" She sneered.
"Stop."
"Am I not worthy to be in your golden presence?" She taunted.
"Stop."
"Maybe I should start kissing the ground you walk on? Would that make it all better?"
"Stop."
"Maybe I should start serving you like an elf. Will that make me worthy to be in your presence?"
"Stop."
"Maybe I should -"
"Stop it!" Harry yelled, now standing.
"No!"
"Just forget about it!"
"What the fucking hell happened?" She screamed.
"You broke down, alright! Fucking Merlin. You had a meltdown! We ordered a couple of drinks and it was going fine. But then you saw someone in a dark cloak and you freaked out. You started screaming and muttering things about the war, Voldermort, and your parents. You curled up into a ball and wouldn't let anyone near you. I almost had to duel you."
Pansy froze. What?
"I disarmed you. I was able to get close enough to you with out having you screaming your head off and I was sober enough to apparate. I took you home and calmed you down. I gave you a calming draught and then a dreamless sleep potion. I stayed until I thought you were asleep. But you wouldn't let me leave. You were shaking; you were so scared. So I stayed the night."
Pansy still hadn't moved or said a single word.
"I didn't do anything to you while you were sleeping. We just slept."
"Why can't I remember any of it?"
"I performed a memory charm on you and everyone else."
"But we were in a muggle pub."
"Yes. But you almost violated the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. I had no choice but to alter their memories."
"But why did you alter mine?"
Harry looked at her with eyes filled with compassion, sorrow, and sympathy. "I didn't think you'd want to remember when you were most vulnerable. Especially in front of muggles and myself."
"I want to see it," Pansy said, vehemently.
"What?"
"I want to see the memory."
"I don't think -"
"Just give me the memory. I deserve to know what happened."
Harry looked her in the eyes, searching for something. Recognizing her resolve, he nodded. He accio'd a vial and with his wand, removed his memory and placed it in the vial.
He threw it to her.
Pansy caught it. Before she could leave, she was stopped.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Pansy."
"I don't want your pity. You didn't know them."
"It's not pity. It's understanding."
"I should be thanking you."
"Why?" Harry asked, surprised.
"You killed Voldemort. He was demented."
"You're not a pureblood elitist?"
"No. Trying to cleanse the world of anything that wasn't pure blood. Idiotic. There's nothing with pure blood. The supposed "pure" bloods are incestuous blood. Revolting. If there weren't muggles and muggleborns, my race would die out into nothingness."
Harry remained silent, a look of contemplation upon his face.
"Let me know when you need a favor. I owe you one."
With one last look at Harry, she apparated home.
A/N: I know the ending isn't the best. But I couldn't think of anything else. But I thought it would be a good ending leading into the next chapter. :)
Reviews are love. Tell me what you think!