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All Harry's life, he'd been told he'd be a star. The first time he got on a broom, he had managed to fly it without problem. He didn't like to tell people that story, because well—it felt rather like gloating. His father and uncle, however, loved nothing more than to share the tale with anyone who'd listen.
He was the youngest seeker in a century. Picked to be on the Gryffindor quidditch team in his first year, everyone around him was certain he'd be a professional player one day. His star power only increased with each passing year with him on the team.
Harry Potter was drafted to the Wimbourne Wasps straight out of Hogwarts. Once again, the youngest drafted player in years. He just showed with clarity, a seeking ability like no other. He had the perfect life, if you asked most people. He had loving parents, a big family, the greatest friends, more money than he could ever spend in a lifetime. He had the perfect career. His life should be perfect, shouldn't it?
Something was missing, though. Harry saw his parents, disgustingly in love, and envied them for what they had found in each other. Harry wanted a love like they had.
Playing professional quidditch, and being a young person with many friends and acquaintances, Harry had been invited to a weekend's worth of Yule parties the December of 1998. He loved parties, but he was apprehensive about attending so many in a row.
The first of these parties was at the house of his teammate, chaser, Terrence Higgs. Terrence had been a few years ahead of Harry in school, but they were both drafted this year. Terrence had also been a seeker in school, but apparently many amateur seekers were recruited as chasers to the league.
Harry didn't know Terrence horribly well, but they had formed a nice camaraderie from being drafted together.
When he arrived at Terrence's flat, he saw he was not even close to the first to arrive. He'd floo'd into a large room full of guests that Harry somewhat recognized. It didn't seem like there were an obscene amount of people, though. Harry figured it would just be the team and their partners, but knew there were probably a couple others here. Harry would have invited Ron to tag along with him if he knew people were bringing friends.
Harry went to find the kitchen and fix himself a drink, when someone ran up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder.
“He's here!” shouted Terrence, alerting the party. Everyone cheered, causing Harry to redden. Terrence put his hands on either side of Harry's shoulders, making beatbox noises and directing Harry, presumably, toward the alcohol.
Harry didn't like to be drunk. He didn't like the way the buzz made him loose-lipped. Whenever he came to parties with the rowdy bunch that were his teammates, he tended to lean more into water.
The party was enjoyable, but uneventful for most of the evening. Harry liked to absorb the atmosphere, taking in the energy and the conversations around him. He did feel strange, though, without having someone to stick to for the duration.
When about fifteen people were left, the rest having gone home, Terrence called to order a game of Sardines. Harry had never heard of it before, but his teammate insisted it was all the rage somewhere.
The premise was, one person would start the game by hiding. The others in the party would look for this person, hiding with them once they found them out.
Fortunately, they all agreed to put their wands in a bowl to prevent cheating by magic. Unfortunately for Harry, he was nominated by every one of his teammates present to be the first to hide. With a laugh and a shake of his head, Harry ran off to find a hiding spot.
He thought his spot in the wardrobe in the master bedroom had been pretty clever. He was only there for a few minutes, though, before the doors were wrenched open to reveal someone he hadn't thought about in a while.
“Parkinson?” he asked. It took him a second for his eyes to take in the light again, only for her to hop into the wardrobe and shut the doors again.
“Pity, I thought you'd make it a bit more challenging to find you,” she said. Harry could practically hear the smirk on her face.
“Whatever.” Harry rolled his eyes, forgetting for a second that she wouldn’t be able to see it. “I didn't even know you were at this party.”
“You'd be amazed what you don't see when you are concerned about not looking out of place,” she said. Harry flushed red. Was that what he seemed like when he was at parties? It certainly wasn't what he thought he was presenting. “Don't worry, you never look out of place.”
“Er, thanks,” he mumbled. “So… What have you been up to since school?”
“Are you really asking me that?” Pansy laughed before throwing a hand over her mouth, seemingly realizing that they were still supposed to be hiding quietly. “That is the most basic question you could ask.”
“Okay, well are you going to answer?” Harry asked again. Being around Pansy for the first time was affecting him in a way he hadn't expected. When he thought about the way her voice just smoothly poured out of her mouth, he wondered why they had ever been rivals in the first place. It really was a childish feud, when he thought about it.
When he was in fourth year, there had been a sort of prank war started between Gryffindor and Slytherin. It had mostly been lighthearted, save for a couple of deep seated issues between a few people. Harry hadn't had a real problem with any of them necessarily. The prank war, though, brought out the most competitive students to the front lines. Harry and his friends acted as the leaders of Gryffindor, while Pansy and hers led Slytherin.
“I suppose you wouldn't know,” she relented. “I used my trust to open a magic-friendly night club.”
Harry gaped. “You’re running it on your own?”
“Merlin, no,” she said. “I hired people to keep the books and such. But I am pretty hands-on, generally speaking.”
Harry didn’t get the chance to ask her what the name of her club was, or even where it was located, before the wardrobe was once again filled with light from the room outside it. One of the other guests Harry hadn’t recognized made to enter, so Harry and Pansy slid to the back. They didn’t get another chance to talk, though, for the rest of the night.
“Surely you’ll see her again,” Ron assured him that Saturday as they sat around Harry’s living room. He had to admit that he was really disappointed about the way he and Pansy had parted two nights before. As the party had tumbled out of the wardrobe, Pansy’s friend had caught her arm, leading her to the fireplace. He wished he’d at least known where he could send an owl, but he didn’t have a clue. There had been another party the night before, on Friday, but she hadn’t made an appearance.
“Why are you so interested in Parkinson anyways?” Seamus asked. Seamus and Dean were across the room playing a game of wizard chess while Harry, Ron, and Neville flipped through the channels on Harry’s television.
“I can’t really put my finger on it,” Harry admitted. “Something just—clicked, I guess?”
“Wacko,” Seamus joked.
“You’ve no room to talk, Seamus, the way you chase after her friend, Greengrass,” Neville pointed out, earning a mimed punch from Seamus. “And Harry, she’s likely to be at Nott’s party tonight, eh? Don’t stress so much.”
The Saturday party was one being thrown by one of Harry’s former classmates, Theo Nott. While Theo was a Slytherin, he and Harry had become acquainted during their sixth year since they were in all the same Newt level classes. Harry hoped that Neville was right, and that he would see Pansy there.
She was actually all Harry could think about the whole night. Even though all his friends were present at this party, he found himself less in the moment than he had been the last night. He felt sort of pathetic, actually. One interaction with his former rival had completely overtaken him. Call it infatuation, attraction, whatever—he at least wanted to ask the girl on a date.
Though it was seemingly the most likely of the parties for Harry to run into Pansy, he didn’t see her anywhere at Theo’s either.
The last party of the weekend was on a Sunday night. This would normally be out of the question, considering the typical work week, but wizards loved holidays. Halloween was always a four-day-weekend kind of affair, and every weekend was a four-day-weekend during the month of December.
This party in particular was being held somewhere he didn’t really know, if he was honest. Luna had gotten everyone in their group on the list at this apparently exclusive party she had heard about through a friend of a friend. Harry figured there was no way he’d see Pansy there, and spent all of Sunday moping.
“Can you at least try to have fun?” Dean nudged Harry as they stood by his fireplace. They were about to floo to what was called the ‘waiting room’. “This thing with Pansy might just have been a one-off.”
“Fine. I’ll try,” Harry gave in. Dean was probably right anyways, and Harry wanted to enjoy whatever awaited them at this party.
After giving their names, they waited in the designated waiting room for about five minutes before someone walked through a fireplace to escort them. Harry hadn’t been to a party like this before, but it was almost thrilling jumping through all the hoops to get there. He knew that Ron would find it really annoying, whenever he came through.
It was he most crowded room Harry had ever seen. There were fairy lights up everywhere, with neon signs shaped like Christmas trees lining the walls. He was following Dean to the bar to get a tab started when he saw her. It was just a flash of black hair walking towards the back of the party, but he recognized it instantly. He mumbled a lame excuse to Dean and shot through the crowd after her.
“Pansy!” he shouted, realizing he couldn’t even hear his own voice over the music. When he caught up to her, he tapped her on the shoulder.
It wasn’t her. It was another girl he’d gone to school with, but not the one he was looking for. After some small talk to avoid an awkward encounter, Harry went back toward the bar. He really thought he had seen her, but concluded that he must have been just seeing what he wanted to see.
“Couldn’t get enough of me?” came a voice in his ear. He’d frozen when he felt her hands land on his arm, but softened when he recognized the velvet sound that reached his ears. He didn’t know what had gotten into him, but he turned and pulled her close to him. They didn’t look out of place on the dance floor—face to face, bodies pressed against each other. She smirked at him as he placed a gentle hand on her cheek.
When their lips met, the only thing Harry could think to describe it was electric. The two of them had been building up since their last meeting, all of it leading to a charged reunion.
All Harry’s life, he’d been told he’d be a star. In his eyes, the real star was the girl who’d lived rent-free in his mind since the night they’d huddled in a wardrobe together.