Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh...
Plot: Everyone Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? What if she were only pretending? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. Well, there is one person, but they hate each other too much to even try while another tries to get help her. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike...
Author's Note: I've noticed how everyone writes Pansy as a crazy ass bitch whose only ambition is to be married to Draco Malfoy. I decided to try my hand at a story told in her point of view. Of course, POV's might change, but it'll mostly be from Pansy's view.
Helpless
Prologue
TRAGEDY STRIKES!!
Three dead! You-Know-Who suspected!
...Damien Parkinson, his wife, Penelope, and youngest
daughter, Violet, died in what appears to be an attack
ordered by You-Know-Who. The Parkinsons' oldest
daughter, Pansy, was not in their residence at the time
of the attack and so escaped the doom of her family. It
was she who discovered the bodies when she returned
home later that night.
Draco Malfoy, a close school friend, has graciously
offered to take in Parkinson for the summer until their
return to Hogwarts for their final year...
Pansy Parkinson sat at the window seat in the dark, looking out at the Malfoys' garden sprinkled in moonlight. Barely two days after—after it happened, Draco offered to let her stay at the Malfoy Manor while she struggled to cope with it all. She was now in charge of her family's fortune. Yippee.
She sighed. It was now three weeks since that awful night. The funerals had come and gone. The Prophet was still babbling about You-Know-Who and how everyone should be on their guard. Like that would help. No matter how prepared or guarded someone was, the Dark Lord would always triumph.
Well, except for Harry Potter. He had escaped Him so many times. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't her family have done that as well? Why did they have to die? Her father, although he was a little rough around the edges, was still the best and loving father she could have ever asked for. Her mother, even though she put Pansy through hell trying to find her the perfect husband, was still her mother.
And Violet, sweet, innocent Violet... She had died with her wand in her hand. Pansy was glad her sister at least tried to fight, but she knew Violet never stood a chance. The Dark Lord was too powerful.
But what The Prophet did not report was a letter left for Pansy to find, a letter addressed to her. She could still see it lying on her sister's chest, carefully folded. The graceful handwriting deceiving, it had read:
Pansy,
Your father has disappointed me greatly. As
punishment, I took his life as well as his wife's and
daughter's—except for yours. You have power. I spared
your life to serve me faithfully. Do not disappoint me.
She had burned it. The Aurors didn't miss it. To them, her father was one less Death Eater. Who cared if he tried to switch to the light, right? Who cared if his wife and child went down with him except one? What a shame. The Ministry had questioned her to great length until Draco arrived and insisted she come to the Malfoy Manor.
He didn't do it for her, but rather for himself and the sake of his family name. Ever since his father, Lucius, and some other Death Eaters broke out of Azkaban, the Malfoy name had suffered.
Yes, it had all seemed so pretty and heroic when Draco publicly disowned his father, no one even brought up the fact that he made no mention of He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Pansy noticed, but didn't say anything. Draco had his reasons for it and she was not about to question him.
When she first arrived at the Manor, Draco laid down rules for her to follow. "I'm not doing this for you, Parkinson, I'm doing this for me," he had said. "The Malfoy name has lost most of its sway, but with your help, it will once more."
Pansy had only nodded. She was still slightly in shock. "Okay, Draco, whatever you say."
"I have to make amends to the Ministry because of Lucius. There will be some parties to attend. I will escort you and my mother to them. I hope you won't disappoint me by making a fool of yourself..."
She didn't hear another word he said after that. All she could hear bouncing around in her head was "...you won't disappoint me...you won't disappoint me..."
Pansy nodded now and then, giving the impression she was still listening. She didn't interrupt him, having learned that lesson the hard way years ago. She let him go on and Draco did like to go on. And why shouldn't he? He had grown up with everything at his beck and call. He commanded a healthy respect and loyalty from the Slytherins at school. Nearly everything he did exuded sophistication, class, and a thin cord of cruelty.
Before, at school, she had received several tongue-lashings from him whenever she displeased him or embarrassed their House. Now, however, Draco wasn't exactly kind, but he wasn't unkind either since she moved to the Manor. Narcissa was happy for the distraction she presented and Pansy was just...Pansy. She felt a little lost and struggled to find her center once more. She didn't eat as much now and Narcissa noticed, but hadn't said anything yet. She was no longer sleeping well, either.
She felt a fraud, a coward. She wasn't home when He had come. She was at a club in London, having the time of her life, while her family died. Pansy was drinking and making out with some boy whose name she didn't know while her family died. So she sat there at the window, wondering when the nightmare her life had become would ever end.