Chapter Text
Though she had grown up with magic, Pansy Parkinson couldn't help but gasp with amazement the first time she saw Diagon Alley on August 31, her 11th birthday. Her parents preferred to do business in Knockturn Alley and had only rarely taken her with them, so her experience with wizarding Britain was limited. But the best wands came from Ollivander's and her mother said only the best would do, so she announced that they'd be going to Diagon Alley as a birthday present.
As far as Pansy was concerned, it was the best place in the world. Where Knockturn Alley had been dark and quiet, and it's inhabitants secretive, Diagon Alley was the exact opposite. Full of sights and sounds, Pansy's head turned widely trying to take in everything at once.
If she had had her way, Pansy would have dragged her mother straight to Ollivander's to get her wand, but she insisted on getting everything else on her school list first. So Pansy had to be patient through a fitting at Madam Malkin's, through dozens of shops, getting supplies and books and lunch. By the time they began heading to Ollivander's, she was so excited and frustrated she was ready to burst.
“Guinevere Parkinson,” said an old man who must have been Mr. Ollivander as they entered his shop. “Vine and phoenix feather, 12 ½ inches, rigid. Good for combat.”
Mrs. Parkinson smiled slightly and said, “How nice of you to remember.”
“I remember every wand I’ve ever sold. Just Like I'll remember yours,” he said, turning to Pansy.
“I'll leave you two alone,” Mrs. Parkinson said. “Pansy, be good for Mr. Ollivander while I go run an errand.”
“What errand?” Pansy called after her mother as she left the store.
“None, I suspect,” said the old man as he flicked his wand at a measuring tape on the counter in front of him. It animated and began measuring every imaginable length of her body. “It's traditional for parents to leave their children alone for the wand choosing. It's a very personal moment and giving privacy is good form.”
“Oh,” Pansy said with a nod, though she didn't really understand. “What's this for?” she asked, noticing that the tape measurer seemed to be measuring the space between her nostrils.
“Knowing how big a witch or wizard will be at their peak can help narrow down the right wand, though small wizards don't necessarily get short wands, or visa versa. Mr. Moody favored a 15 inch wand until he got his staff and he was on the shorter side.” He pondered for a minute, then said, “That will do,” sending the tape away with another flick.
“Now,” he continued, walking back to the shelves that made up the lion's share of his store, “let's see what we can find.”
He darted around quickly as if looking for a specific wand. Finally, he picked out a long box and walked back to her, opening it as he went.
He pressed the wand into her hands and said, “Mahogany and unicorn hair hair, 9 inches. Go on, give it a wave.”
Pansy did as she was told, but she had barely lifted it before Mr. Ollivander snatched it away and dashed off to find another. The little man seemed quite pleased.
Pansy didn't know how many wands she was made to try. Certainly at least fifty, judging by the pile that quickly grew upon his counter. This didn't seem to frustrate him at all, as it did Pansy, however. Indeed, the longer it went on, the more ecstatic he became.
He was practically giddy when he handed her, “Hawthorn and dragon heartstrings. 13 ¾ inches. Nice and rigid. Try!”
The moment she took it, Pansy knew she had found her wand. Even before she waved it, it felt like an extension of her, as if her arm was finally complete. For good measure, she gave it a wave, producing an impressive display of white sparks.
“Good show!” Ollivander cheered, taking the wand from her to wrap it up.
Once he was finished, both with that and with getting her wand polish and a holster, he turned to her, fixing her with a serious gaze.
“This wand will serve you well, but it may be some time before you truly master it.”
Pansy was confused. “But it felt so right!” she objected.
“Of course it did. It's your wand. But Hawthorn wands tend to choose-yes, the wand chooses-witches or wizards with a conflicted nature or who will face conflict. Until you resolve that, you and your wand will never reach your full potential.”
Pansy frowned and was about to ask for a different wand. She didn't want to go to Hogwarts with one the was under-powered.
Perhaps Mr. Ollivander read her mind or maybe he'd had this conversation before, because he said, “You needn't worry, young miss. Your wand will perform just as admirably as any other at Hogwarts. And one day, when you resolve your conflict, you will be capable of great things.”
Pansy nodded in understanding.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. They looked to see Mrs. Parkinson through the window, a questioning look on her face. Apparently she'd been waiting for their conversation to end.
Pansy turned back to the old wizard and asked, “Should I tell her what you said?”
“That, my dear, is entirely up to you.”
She decided, as her mother came into buy her things, that she wouldn't and she was very thankful that she didn't ask.
That night, Pansy crept out of her bed to her already packed trunk. Her parents had sent her to bed early, wanting her well-rested for her first night at Hogwarts, but Pansy was dying to try her wand once more.
Though it was illegal for underage witches to do magic at home, there was little the ministry could do to stop the children of wizarding families and Pansy's parents had let her try some simple spells with their wands. She'd never had much success though and now that she had her own wand, she couldn't resist trying again.
Wand in hand, she softly said, “Lumos,” and knelt in front of her trunk, using the light to find her first book of magic, The Standard Book of Spells: Year 1.
She snuck back into bed and under the covers, so as to hide the light from her parents if they walked by. She flipped through the pages, looking at all the spells trying to decide on one. Finding none that could be done in bed and in the dark, she settled on Lumos' counter-spell.
“Nox,” she whispered, flicking her wand slightly. To her delight, the glow at the tip of her wand went out. It was a simple spell, she knew, but it felt like an accomplishment nonetheless.
After putting her book and wand on the bedside table, she curled up closed her eyes, pleased with herself. She decided she would try as many spells as she could on the train.
Her parents fussed over her on the platform the next morning. Her mother, close to tears, hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead.
“Be good,” she said. “And study hard. And write every week.”
Her father hugged her too, slipping her a small money purse.
“Don't spend it all on sweets,” he whispered to her.
Just then the train whistle started blowing and Pansy had to hurriedly grab her trunk and run on to the Hogwarts Express. After putting her trunk in a car with all the others, Pansy dashed into the first empty compartment, threw open the window and waved to her parents.
“I'll miss you!” she called out to them.
They waved back, but what they said she never knew, because the trained pulled away and the sound drowned them out.
The rest of the journey was much less exciting. Her compartment was empty until Draco Malfoy and his friends, Crabbe and Goyle, asked if they could join her and she agreed. She knew Draco, though not very well, from parties and he'd always been nice to her. Crabbe and Goyle she hadn't met, but they were with Draco, so they must be ok.
They chatted idly for a few hours about everything from quidditch to their new classes, until they heard a rumor that Harry Potter was on the train and the boys went off to investigate. Draco asked her if she wanted to come too, but Pansy said no. It wasn't that she wasn't curious. Like everyone else she wanted to see the boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but she knew parents wouldn't approve of gawking. “Such behavior is unbecoming of a young lady,” they'd say. There would be plenty of time to catch a glimpse of him when they were at school.
She didn't have to wait long for her friends to come back. They weren't gone ten minutes before they returned, Draco fuming and Goyle nursing a bite on his finger. Pansy thought this an excellent opportunity to try out some more magic and pulled out her wand. She tried to remember a spell her mother used on her scraped knee after she'd fallen from the tree she'd been climbing. Goyle's finger didn't look any different after she tried the spell, but he said it felt a bit better, so she put her wand away, beaming.
She tried to asked Draco what had happened, but he seemed to have lost interest in the young hero. “Forget about Potter,” was all she could get out of him before he went back to sulking.
At long last, the train pulled into the Hogsmeade station. The older students piled into the horseless carriages, but first years were directed into boats by a giant of a man she heard someone call Hagrid and crossed a huge lake.
She got her first view of Hogwarts crammed into a small boat with Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. Despite her discomfort, all her attention was focused on the giant fortress. It looked just like she imagined it, with dozens of towers and thousands of windows, many of which showed warm, comforting light. If the inside was impressive as the outside, it might replace Diagon Alley in Pansy's mind as her favorite place.
The tiny boats carried them straight to a door on the edge of the lake, where severe-looking old witch was waiting for them. She led them into a room that Pansy was certain was bigger than her entire house. The witch, who introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, droned on about things like houses, and rules and points, but Pansy was only half-paying attention. She was too excited, straining to hear the sounds coming from a nearby room.
Pansy barely noticed when McGonagall left and her concentration was only broken when several ghosts floated in through the walls. They were talking about Peeves, whoever that was, and arguing over whether they should give him a “second chance.” The ghosts were nearly through the room before they noticed the children.
“First years?” a fat and friendly-looking monk asked. Several nodded and a handful of the brave ones said, “Yes,” but few dared to do anything but stare in shock.
“Hope to see you in Hufflepuff,” the monk said. “My old house, you know.”
The ghost then returned to their conversation, leaving the children to chat among themselves once they were gone.
They didn't have much time to discuss what happened, because McGonagall chose that moment to return. She led them single file into the castle's great hall and stood them at the front, facing four long tables, one for each house Pansy imagined. The older students were already seated and all eyes were on the first years.
A gnarled old man with a limp brought out a small, wooden stool with a decrepit-looking hat on the seat. This, as Pansy knew, was the sorting hat. She'd overheard people saying you had to wrestle a troll, but her parents had told her all about the sorting ceremony. So she wasn't surprised when the hat opened its mouth and started singing:
“Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can top them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a steady mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!”
While many of the first years looked relieved, Pansy frowned. The hidden things in her head were that way for a reason. There were things she wasn't ready to face yet.
But before she could object, McGonagall called the first name. Hannah Abbott soon became the first new Hufflepuff.
Pansy stood through the ceremony, as scared as she had ever been. She was barely aware of the students getting sorted, except for Crabbe, Goyle and Draco who all became, unsurprisingly in Malfoy's case, Slytherins.
Finally it became time for Pansy to be sorted. She felt she was going to be sick, but a proper young lady never showed weakness, especially a Parkinson, so she walked forward with as much confidence as she could muster, sat down on the stool and let McGonagall place the hat on her head.
“Another tricky one,” said a voice in her head. Pansy mentally panicked. If only she could keep her thoughts private. She overheard someone at a ball talking about magic like that. Why hadn't her parents taught her?
“My but you're clever,” said the voice, clearly amused. “But fear not, There are a number of spells to prevent me from saying anything I learn.
“Now where to put you? Hmm...You're definitely intelligent. Loyal. And you've got the courage of a lion, I daresay.”
She sat there while the Sorting Hat weighed her various attributes. With all eyes on her she realized how truly alone she felt. No family, no close friends, no one.
She made a decision: choose a house and let the runes fall where they may. In her head, she demanded, “Put me in Slytherin.”
“Slytherin, eh? Very interesting. And not my first choice either. And yet, now that I think on it, I rather think you'll do well there. Very well then, SLYTHERIN.” It yelled the final word to the hall. Relieved, Pansy hopped off the stool as soon as the hat was off her head and walked to the Slytherin with applause.
She chose a seat between Draco and blonde haired girl who introduced herself as Daphne Greengrass and whom Pansy was surprised to learned was only a first year. They chatted quietly through that rest of the ceremony, stopping only to see Harry Potter get sorted.
Small and thin, he looked nothing like what either girl imagined. The Sorting Hat seemed to have as much trouble with him as it did with Pansy and she wondered briefly if it wasn't going to put him in Slytherin too. Wouldn't that be the funniest irony in the world, the savior of the wizarding world in the house of villains. But the young hero was, as could have been expected, was placed in Gryffindor and Pansy lost interest in the ceremony, save for the new Slytherins.
At long last, the headmaster Dumbledore said a few words about rules and painful death for disobeying them, and the students were allowed to eat. Pansy hadn't felt hungry since breakfast, but the minute she started eating she couldn't stop. It seemed the rest of the students were the same, because all conversation ceased for fifteen minutes while they ate as much as the could.
Once the wolves of hunger had been beaten back a bit, chatter resumed. Pansy smiled, all apprehension gone. She felt at home with these people she'd only just met.
Apparently seeing the meal wrapping up, the headmaster dismissed the students, allowing the prefects to lead the first years to their houses.
“Come with me, Slytherins!” called an older girl with short brown hair. Pansy got up with the rest of the first years, grabbing one last roll, and followed her out of the Great Hall. She led them on a winding path, down staircases, behind tapestries, through secret passages and even doubling back a few times. Pansy wondered how in the name of Circe she was expected to remember all this, but she supposed she'd learn in time.
In the end, they came to a portrait of a thin, old wizard.
“Hello, Nick,” said the prefect.
“Greetings, Gemma. Password?”
“Beginnings.”
The painting shifter to the side, revealing an archway.
“Welcome to the Slytherin dungeon,” the prefect said, leading them through to a large common room. She turned around and continued, “I'm Gemma Farley. I'm just going to go over a few things and then you can all go to bed. First, the password changes every fortnight, so be sure to keep an eye on the bulletin board. Second, stay up as long as you need to but it down after ten. And finally, and most importantly, remember that you're all Slytherins and you're expected to act like it, You don't have to like all of your housemates, but if you have a problem with someone here, keep it to yourself in public. Out there, we're a united front. And remember, you can always come to me, one of the other prefects or Professor Snape if you have a problem.
“Alright, that'll get you through tomorrow. We'll meet again this weekend after you've had some time to settle in.” She glance at the clock and said, “Alright. There's no curfew inside the common room, so you don't have to go to bed. Just be quiet for the people who are trying to sleep.”
The prefect got up and went down a staircase that Pansy assumed led to the girls dorms. She and most of the other girls followed her.
The stairs led to a large circular room, with several doors each labeled for a year. Pansy and the other girls from her year entered their designated room. There they found their things next to their beds. Pansy quickly found her bed and after saying goodnight to Daphne, changed and went to bed. She barely had time to look forward to the next day before she fell asleep.
Pansy awoke early the next morning and was surprised to find that many of the other girls had too, as eager to get started as she was.
She grabbed a clean uniform and the things she needed for a shower and went to find the bathroom. She ran into Gemma just outside the dormitory door, who Pansy noticed was wearing a tight bathrobe and pointed Pansy showers.
Pansy was relieved that there were shower stalls for each girl. She was afraid she would have to shower in front of her housemates, as she had heard the boys did.
She bathed quickly, anxious to explore the castle. In her hurry, she threw her towels on her bed and was still trying to put on her tie when she walked up the stairs to the common room.
Daphne was already there, apparently waiting for her. She stood up and said, “Morning.”
“Good morning.”
“Do you want to go to breakfast?” she asked, a little shyly.
“Alright,” she agreed. “And when class is over, we can go exploring. I want to see everything.”
Daphne nodded, visibly relieved. The ice broken, the two chatted happily and by the time they reached the great hall, they were best friends.
Their first class of the day was with Professor Flitwick and the Hufflepuffs. Pansy and Daphne arrived in the charms classroom a few minutes early and picked two seats next to each other. Flitwick wasn't there and only came in just before the bell rang. Pansy had to resist the urge to giggle at the sight of the tiny professor, who was clearly part dwarf.
The lesson wasn't as exciting as she and the rest of the first years had hoped. Instead of starting on magic right away, Professor Flitwick started with attendance, before passing out and explaining the syllabus and finally ending on a short lecture on wand safety.
The rest of her classes went on the same way and not even the promise of magic soon was enough to keep her attention through essentially the same lesson over and over again.
Which is not to say everything about her classes had been boring. Professor Flitwick had made several books on his desk fly and even the stern Professor McGonagall had, after some begging, turned her desk into a pig and back. Still, Pansy was relieved when classes ended and left immediately with Daphne to explore the castle.
They started by climbing to the seventh floor and working their way down. They marveled at what they saw. There were moving stairs and talking portraits, ghosts and secret passages. There was even a wall pretending to be a door.
When they got to the third floor, Daphne dared Pansy to walk down the corridor Dumbledore had warned them about. Pansy, eager to show off to her new friend, boldly walked down the hall. But she only got halfway, before she heard cackling coming from the corner ahead of her and ran back.
It turned out to be Peeves, who was a poltergeist and greeted the girls by throwing erasers at them. They had to run down to the second floor to escape him.
They decided to get dinner after that, before continuing their adventure and made their way to the Great Hall. Pansy was barely aware of what she was eating and the two girls finished well before the other Slytherins, and rushed back up to the second floor.
For all the things she'd seen over the past-was it really only three days?-the thing that had the most profound effect on her happened near the end of her tour of the school.
On the second floor they found a small store, run by some of the older students, that sold basic school supplies like quills and parchment, as was as some of the more popular sweets. As the girls both had been given pocket money, they decided to celebrate their first year and treat themselves.
They enjoyed themselves looking over the various candies and ink colors. Pansy splurged, buying a bottle of color-changing ink as well as a Pumpkin Pasty, while Daphne bought a larger box of Bertie Botts' Every Flavored Beans. They were leaving, enjoying their treats when She walked in.
She was the strangest looking girl Pansy had ever seen. Instead of her uniform, which she must have changed out of after classes, she wore a lime green shirt with the words “The Weird Sisters” emblazoned tight across her chest and an equally snug pair of ripped blue jeans. She must have been at least a halfblood, because no respectable pureblood family would let their daughter out of the house with the alarming shade of pink the girls' hair now sported, let alone spiked. And that wasn't the only thing. Pansy was quite certain her mother would kill her if she came home with her eyebrow pierced.
But no one else seemed to care, certainly not her friends, who were laughing loudly and now Pansy could see why. So focused on the rest of the girl, Pansy hadn't seen the girls face. She was amusing her friends by changing her nose into different shapes. Now it was a pig snout. Now it was a duck bill. At first Pansy thought it might be a glamour charm, like the ones her mother used before parties, but she couldn't see a wand.
“Look out, I think you scared a firstie,” said one of her friends, a tall red headed boy.
Grinning widely, the girl walked over and knelt down in front of Pansy and turned her face into a perfect mirror of the younger girl.
“Better?” she asked.
Pansy didn't trust herself to speak and simply nodded.
“What's your name?”
“Pansy Parkinson,” she squeaked out,
“Nice to meet you, Pansy. My name's Tonks.”
“Tell her your real name,” another boy said with a laugh.
Tonks shot him a look and said, “Shut it, Weasley.” But she was smiling again when she turned back to Pansy. She held out her hand and Pansy shook it shyly.
“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Tonks said with a wink, before getting up and rejoining her friends.
Pansy didn't wait to see if Tonks ever changed her face back. She just wanted to be somewhere else. When she was certain Tonks wasn't looking, she ran out of the shop and into the first empty classroom she could find to collect herself.
Even if she hadn't been told, she would have remembered who Tonks was soon enough. How many times had she heard Auntie Narcissa at parties complain about her blood-traitor sister and her half-breed niece. Tonks was a metamorphmagus and something like Pansy's fourth cousin, seven times removed.
“Are you alright?” Daphne asked, coming in and sounding worried.
“I'm fine,” she answered in a voice she knew wasn't convincing.
“Who was that?”
“My cousin or something like that,” Pansy answered truthfully. “My parents warned me about her, but I wasn't expecting to actually see her.”
That last bit wasn't true, but she couldn't tell Daphne that. She didn't even know what the truth was. She had no idea why she had reacted like that to the older girl.
“Are you sure you're ok? You look all hot and bothered. Maybe we should go to the hospital wing.”
“No. I promise I'm fine. Let's just go back to the common room. Ever play Exploding Snap? I got a deck for Christmas last year.”
Daphne didn't press her further, a quality Pansy would appreciate many times over the next six years, and never brought the incident up again. But Daphne Greengrass wasn't a stupid girl and Pansy couldn't keep her strange behavior from her best friend.
It all started the night after the incident. After a few games of Exploding Snap, Daphne announced that she was tired and wanted to go bed. Pansy was sure it was for her benefit, but she went along with it anyway.
She regretted it almost immediately. She'd been able to put Tonks from her mind during the game, but in bed she had no distraction from her thoughts.
Try as she might, Pansy couldn't understand why the older girl affected her that way. But despite her confusion, Pansy smiled at the memory of the girl. Tonks seemed to be everything Pansy wished she was: pretty, popular and talent.
Smart, too, she learned after some observation.
She never followed the older girl. She didn't stalk Harry Potter and she wasn't about to stalk her idol. But whenever they were in the same place, Pansy's eyes were drawn to Tonks. She didn't gawk-well, not much-but she watched the girl with great interest.
They weren't friends, not really, but Pansy liked to imagine they were. She made a point of saying, “Hi, Tonks,” when they passed in the hall. Much to her delight, Tonks almost always said “Hi” back, though Pansy wasn't sure if she recognized her or was just being polite.
Daphne never questioned her actions or why Pansy was defying her parents, but Pansy noticed the looks of concern Daphne got when she saw her friend at it.
To ease her friend's mind, Pansy stopped paying attention when Daphne was around. Since the two first years were practically joined at the hip, this meant Pansy rarely indulged in her fascination with Tonks.
It nearly broke her heart at the beginning, but Pansy soon found her mask easier and easier to slip into. This was, in a way, worse than the denial itself and Pansy could only bear it by thinking about Tonks often.
Even this, however, happened less and less, and by February, Pansy had successfully put Tonks out of her mind.
Still, at the graduation ceremony that June, she felt a pang of sadness watching the odd girl accept her diploma from the headmaster, knowing she'd never see her again.
How very wrong she was.