Chapter Text
Pansy took in her own reflection. She wore a dark blue shirt and beige loose trousers. She looked good. Professional. Which, she shouldn’t, but the pile on her bed gave the impression that she did not have a single suitable thing to wear.
Everything was either too tight or too short or too bright. She straightened a strand of hair and took a last check on her make - up.
This would have to do.
She hadn’t been able to relax at all. Her pulse racing away just enough to make her a little short of breath, but not enough to be a concern.
Though, she was concerned. It was terrible and she had no idea how to survive this afternoon.
Pansy jumped at the sound of her fireplace rustling to life and someone came through the floo. She grabbed her shoes and walked into the living room.
Ron gave her his warm soft smile, but she couldn’t return it.
“What’s the matter?”
“I don’t think I can come with you.”
“Why is that?”
“My stomach hurts.” She said.
Ron narrowed his eyes and smiled again.
“You’re dressed.” He stated.
“I know. I… it happened suddenly.”
“Oh, come here. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll let you know my mother is just as nervous.”
Pansy pulled out of his embrace and stared at him.
“What?”
Ron shrugged.
“She’s a little frantic at the moment, but its fine.” He assured her.
Pansy didn’t feel assured. Molly Weasley was famous for her mothering. The way she protected her children, her opinion mattered the most. If she hated her, then it was only a matter of time before all of this went away. She pressed her head to Ron’s chest.
“Do you really think this is a good idea?”
“Of course! Why is it any different than me coming to your father’s birthday? Which was almost three weeks ago, I might add.”
Pansy had anticipated the day Ron would ask her to come with him to meet his family. She still managed to decline two times before he managed to convince her. It was very daunting.
Her family adored Ron. Even her mother, who Pansy had thought would wrinkle her nose at his lack of class couldn’t seem to help getting charmed. A couple of aunts and uncles had commented on the brightness of the red, and threw in a comment about his heritage, but they had been silenced by a sharp look from Pansy’s mother. By the end of the night, everyone seemed to enjoy the company of her boyfriend. He was quiet and true to himself. He was a little clumsy and didn’t know every little rule or etiquette, but to Pansy, that was a part of his charm.
This was different. Ron’s family were people who mattered everywhere. They were the right kind of people. And she’d once been against that. Not because she wanted to, but because she was scared out of her mind.
How could she ever think that dating Ron was a good idea?
Pansy hurried into the kitchen and gulped down some water. Ron waited quietly in the doorway. She struggled into her shoes and wrestled with her jacket. He didn’t laugh at her. He didn’t rush her. He simply stood there being that comfortable presence in her life. And she knew that even if she was shaking like a leaf, she would face this. Because the thought of giving up on Ron was worse than anything she could face at his house.
Pansy felt an overwhelming sensation of surprise when she stood in front of Ron’s childhood home. Like everyone else they’d seen it before in pictures. Up until they closed it off to ensure their privacy. It was taller than she imagined, and looked fragile.
As soon as they stepped through the gates, Ron seemed to relax in a way she hadn’t seen before. This was his home, where he felt closest to his roots, it made sense. Pansy squeezed his hand. She could feel the magic surrounding the place like a tangible thing.
She knew that magical homes were magical in and of itself. She had grown up in a very old one herself. To feel this kind of powerful and all in all good magic envelop her as she walked closer was so real, and familiar in a way. It reminded her a lot of what she felt around Ron. Safe and grounded.
The front door opened as they stepped up on the porch and Arthur Weasley welcomed them.
“Ron, good to see you, son.” He said with a nod. Then he turned to greet her.
Pansy looked up at him, and was met with a warm gaze and a genuine smile.
“Pansy Parkinson. Come in, come in. We are just about getting settled at the table. I knew your mother back in school.” He added.
“Thank you. Yes, she told me she knew both you and Mrs. Weasley back in her Hogwarts years.” Pansy nodded.
Arthur seemed friendly and free from judgement. Pansy found herself relaxing a fraction. When they entered the living room, there was a lot of noise. With kids running around, arguments going on across the room, with little to no regards to who was in the crossfire.
Victorie and Dominique rushed to meet them as soon as they noticed them there in the doorway. Pansy accepted hugs from each of the girls, if a little surprised.
There were still a few she hadn’t been introduced to, but Ron made a round around the room, with little fuss. Pansy found it easier to relax here with the short introductions rather than the formal handshaking and searching eyes they’d received in her own father’s birthday.
Pansy felt more then heard the moment Molly Weasley stepped into the room. None of the conversations stopped and the kids were still loud. But the presence of her aura and magic was hard to miss.
“So, we’re all here then?” She asked, looking about the room.
“Harry’s not coming.” George offered, his somber look was a stark contrast to what she had seen him like before.
“Figured as much.” Mrs. Weasley said. She then stood in front of Pansy. Almost a head shorter, but Pansy easily felt like the smallest one in the room.
This woman was clearly taking her in, weighing her, making up an opinion. Or rather, making up what to say about her opinion. Pansy had no doubt that Mrs. Weasley knew exactly what she thought of her.
“Welcome to our home, Pansy Parkinson.” She said, shaking her hand once. Her eyes never leaving Pansy’s. There wasn’t a smile on her face, but her eyes seemed calm enough.
“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. It’s very kind of you to have me over for brunch.” Pansy hoped she didn’t sound as weak as she felt. Molly Weasley pressed her lips tightly shut and nodded.
She then proceeded to ask everyone to the table and Pansy could finally breathe again as there was a wild unorganized trek toward the large table in the middle of the room.
It was no seating chart, but everyone seemed to have an understanding of where they usually sat.
Pansy was aware of the homeliness surrounding them. The food was great, and she listened in on George’s teasing, to the children’s squeaks of joy or cries of frustration. She even let herself be swept away into a conversation with Arthur about the state of the offices at the ministry.
When Ron leaned down to ask if she had everything she needed Pansy looked up at him with a smile. Seeing those blue, happy eyes she wasn’t going to complain about a thing. This was his home and she clearly had as much to learn about a new household as he had been nervous when meeting her family.
“Yes, this is very nice. Thank you.” She whispered softly. Ron smiled and when Pansy looked up she met Mrs. Weasley’s eyes. They held a lot of the same reluctantly charmed glint as her mother’s had upon seeing them together.
Everything went smoothly almost the entire time they were there. Pansy lowered her shoulders and played away with Victorie when she handed her the unicorn.
She should have known it wasn’t going to go over without a hitch, though.
Pansy stood in the kitchen with Ron’s arm thrown over her shoulders. He was chatting with Bill about a case.
As the door opened from the garden into the kitchen Pansy looked up and met Percy Weasleys eyes. He arrived with a woman Pansy vaguely recognized and a child at about four years old. His eyes shifted between her and Ron as they got increasingly colder.
“What is going on with everyone inviting all sort of people into this home!” He stated loudly, silencing any kind of conversation in the room. Everyone turned to look at Percy. Ron’s arm tightened around her shoulders.
“Percy!” Bill hissed.
“No. I’m sick of it! First there is this enormous rush of articles about Harry and that Malfoy kid and everyone just accepts that. I’m not! He’s taught that only pureblood families matter, and we’re supposed to greet him like anyone else. And this… This is no better! She is taught that too from a young age. Where they have only one offspring with each other to secure that line. Ron’s pureblood too, I’m willing to bet that has something to do with this connection!”
Molly had come rushing into the kitchen with the shouting, and she effectively pushed Percy’s kid into the living room.
“What. Is going on in here?” She demanded, staring her son down.
“I’m simply saying what needs to be said.” Percy told her loudly. His face had taken a red color instead of his usual whiteness.
“No, Percy, this is not what needs to be said.” Molly sounded gentle.
“I can’t believe that even you are fooled, mom! This woman here is the daughter of the one person you never got along with in school.” Percy said sharply.
Pansy swallowed. Too much of this hitting close to home in a way she never expected it to.
“That was ages ago. We have both moved past those differences we faced as children. And so should you.”
Molly touched his arm, but Percy moved away from her.
“I can’t help that I think this situation here is taking advantage of conveniency. Pureblood families will always seek out other purebloods.”
“Might I remind you of the very pure blood status of your own wife, Percy?” Molly said quietly.
Pansy was aware suddenly that she was on the favorable side of Molly Weasleys stand in this. The woman told them she was going to have a talk with her son and the others shuffled out of there.
Ron grabbed her hand and led her outside.
“I’m so sorry about what he said.” Ron told her once they were standing in an overgrown garden with gnomes darting between the bushes.
Pansy shook her head carefully. Ron’s warm hands came up to cup her face, gently leading her to look up at him. She felt a little numb.
“I’m not going to make excuses for him, because he better come make them himself, to the both of us. But he has been struggling a lot since the war.”
Pansy chewed the inside of her lip, unable to look Ron in the eyes.
“You do know that I don’t believe any of the stuff he was talking about?” He said softly.
Pansy watched him, registering his eyes, genuine and kind. With a bit of concern. Did he feel hurt by this too?
“I know.” She whispered.
And she did, she really believed he didn’t think of her like that. Still, if that was how the rest of them saw her. And even worse, if their relationship became public knowledge, she would be in a lot of scrutiny. There was no doubt in her mind that some people would side with Percy on his assumptions.
She sighed.
“I don’t want to be rude, but I don’t think I want to go back inside.”
Ron kissed her forehead and let his hands rest on her shoulders.
“Well… I think Percy is the one who should go.”
Pansy shook her head.
“No, that will only make him dislike me even more. Please, Ron. Let’s talk later. Tell your parents I enjoyed the meal."
Ron watched her before taking a step back. Something in his eyes changed into something she couldn’t really understand. He nodded.
“Alright. Talk to you later, then.” He pulled her in for a hug.
“I’m very sorry Percy had to act like this.” He told her.
Back in her own place Pansy tried her best to relax. As the hours ticked away and no sign of Ron anywhere. She had thought he would come by as soon as things settled back at the Burrow, but it was already dark outside and she had heard nothing from him.
She trusted Ron to be honest if something came up, because he was a man who valued honesty and her, she had thought.
It was so easy for her to fall back into old thoughts, where she knew that she always pulled the shortest straw. In all her life, and especially after the war, she had never been a priority for anyone when there were more important people or situations around.
The thought that perhaps the same thing was happening now, left a very heavy feeling settle in her chest.
Just after nine in the evening, an owl landed on her sill and she held her breath as she opened the slightly crumbled letter.