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Pansy Parkinson really had fallen. She knew it, the magical world knew it, and her family knew it.
She was once a highly valued prospective pureblood wife… now disowned daughter of a weathly pureblood family for having a one off with Mister Scarhead himself, Harry Potter on her hen night, three days before her wedding to one Mister Vincent Crabbe.
Two years later, here she was, jogging to the local market for dinner ingredients, to make her weekly lasagna and cheesy toast with Hermione Granger. Girls night, Hermione coined it.
It had all started when her father had found out about her tryst, he had thrown her out and banished her from the property for the rest of his days, and of hers. House elves had been notified to report her on site if she was caught, and all of the expensive things she had once possessed, were locked up inside her now cursed bedroom. She had fled with whatever she could stuff into a large rolling suitcase, and somehow ended up on Hermione Granger's doorstep. She had first gone to Harry's, but he was wrapped up in the bedsheets with her former bridesmaid, Tracey Davis. Then she tried Draco, hoping to spend a night with her godson, Scorpius, to distract her. However, when she showed up, Astoria had hurled hexes down at her from the top of their front stairs, and refused to let her see Draco or her godson. Door after door had slammed shut in her face, until, that is the Gryffindor Girl Wonder.
Knocking quietly, she waited.
"Coming!" Hermione had called from inside.
A few minutes later, the flat door had flung open, and Hermione was staring at her.
"Granger… I… I…"
Affecting a doubtful stance, Hermione leaned against her doorframe.
"What do you want, Parkinson? Haven't you done enough?" She asked. That twinged, as Pansy remembered that by romping in the sack with Potter, she had ruined, not only her own life, but his as well. He had been out for his last night before marrying Weaselbee's baby sister.
"I…. I don't know. I didn't expect to get past a knock. I….," she cleared her throat, "Look, I don't have anywhere to go. My dad threw me out, Harry's entangled with Tracey Davis, Vincent won't return my owls, and I can't even visit my own godson, because Draco's wife hexed me ten ways to Sunday. I didn't know who else to turn to. I'm sorry."
Chewing on her bottom lip, Hermione had an internal battle with herself. Sighing, she opened the door fully, gesturing for Pansy to come in.
"Come on in, I'll put on a kettle. It's raining house elves out there. If you go anywhere else, you might catch cold."
Smiling, and nodding, she stepped into the flat. She thought she heard Hermione whisper "Why do all the Slytherins seeking redemption come here !", but she let that go.
The flat was small, probably a one bedroom, with eggshell blue walls, and white trim, that traveled down the corridor. That is, the walls not covered floor to ceiling in books, were blue. Books littered every flat surface and shelf.
A small kitchen was tucked in the corner of what was a small dining area, and slightly larger sitting room. She could see Hermione in it, hovering over the stove, boiling water for their tea.
"What made you decide to come here, of all places? May I ask?" Came Hermione's voice as she re-entered the room, carrying two steaming cups.
Taking the one she offered, Pansy sat down on the grey sofa, and looked at Hermione, who joined her.
"I… I'm truthfully not sure. I just hoped you didn't completely hate me. I'm not looking to stay, I can move on to the Leaky. I just…"
"You need a friend. And you chose me."
Pansy glanced down at her trainers nervously.
"I'm sorry."
"Well, you're here now. And it sounds like you need a pick me up. Have you ever watched muggle films?" She asked, searching Pansy's blank stare, before finishing, "Nevermind. Sorry, I forgot you didn't exactly score E's in Muggle Studies. Anyway, the muggles have this amazing film category, called chick flicks. My cousins in America showed me them when I had my first heartbreak in sixth year. These are films that will make you cry until you don't have any tears left… it's glorious and empowering in the weirdest way. By the time you're three films in, you have polished off a tub of ice cream, and feel like you can stomp out hearts with your best Louboutins."
Smiling, and sipping her tea, Pansy met Hermione's gaze for the first time.
"That sounds amazing. I haven't had a good mint chocolate swirl ice cream in years."
Blushing, Hermione shook her head.
"I can't believe you say that, mint chocolate swirl is my favorite."
"Honest?"
"Yeah. I've got two tubs in the fridge, just now."
Pansy nodded.
"Let's do it."
Now, they made dinner twice a month, once at her flat, and once at Hermione's, always trying a new recipe, turned on muggle chick flicks, and gobbled down gallons of mint chocolate swirl.
Here she was, two hours before Hermione was set to arrive, gathering the things she needed, among muggles,even carrying a muggle cellphone.
Strolling the aisles, she gathered spices, pasta, tomatoes and other things to put in her homemade sauce, ground beef, and garlic butter cheesy toast, before making her way to the cashiers.
Then behind the counter reminded her of someone, but she couldn't place him. He had dark hair, looked like he had recently lost weight, and his eyes were searching for something. His clothes hung off him slightly, she noticed, as she waited for the woman ahead of her to go. He barely looked up, only doing so when he needed to ask about a price.
After a while, it was her turn. He grabbed and scanned her items, surveying the ingredients.
"Dinner for one?" He asked. Shaking her head, Pansy looked up to see a shy grin on his face.
"Ah, no. My best… erm, my…. Bloody Merlin himself when did Hermione Granger become my best friend?" She muttered, more to herself than to him. Clearing her throat, she looked back at him, putting up a hand to stop herself from vanishing down THAT rabbit hole.
She started again.
"Dinner for two, actually. My best friend, and I, always do dinner with ice cream and girly movies, twice a month. And tonight, I'm hosting. I just needed a few things for our recipe.
Looking as if he was hanging onto her every syllable, he nodded.
"Well, Miss, that sounds lovely. I'm Dudley, by the way, would you like me to help you get your groceries into the boot of your car?"
Pansy smiled sheepishly.
"That's sweet, thank you, I'd appreciate that."
After taking her charge card for payment, he followed her to her vehicle, and loaded the boot of her car with her bags, without asking for a smidgen of help.
"Thanks again. Im…. I'm Pansy."
"Beautiful name for a beautiful lady. Forgive me if this is too forward, but would you like t get dinner sometime?"
Blush creeping up the sprinkling of freckles on her nose, she nodded.
"Give me your cellular, and I'll add my number."
Reaching into his apron, he fished for his mobile, and when he found it, handed it to her. Her nails tapped against the touch screen,as she put her number in his phone.
"I hope to hear from you soon," she replied, handing his phone back.
"You will indeed. Have a good day, Pansy."
She could not wait to tell Hermione over spoonfuls of mint chocolate swirl.