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Chapter Text

December 18, 1993

Pansy huffed as she threw her satchel on the covers of her bed and followed the item shortly thereafter. Draco was in one of his moods, and as a result, he was expecting all those who typically walked with him to follow his every whim and agree with whatever he said, regardless of how stupid he could be; most wizards were far from smart, and that was the reason they needed an eloquent, intelligent witch behind them. Her mother had said as much, and prior to this year, Pansy had seen Draco in nought but the most wonderful light… she should have known better, but at the very least, this year had been most illuminating thus far.

"What're you doing back so early? Weren't you meant to be with Malfoy?" Came the ever-inquisitive and frequently bothersome voice of Tracey Davis, the girl who never knew when to shut her Half-Blood mouth.

"My time is my own, Davis," Pansy shot back before promptly closing the curtains and removing herself from the conversation, lest one truly began.

Pansy wished to be on her own for the next hour or so, for it wasn't required that she was always hanging onto the sides of Draco. He was enamoured with her, and if she continued to act as she did, he would continue to be so without her having to invest even half as much time as she currently was. That day could not come any sooner. If he wasn't fuming in regards to something that Potter 'did', Draco would be so terribly poncey thanks to something that his parents had informed him of. It was as if he took credit for all of the success of his family, and yet, in the rare instances with which something went poorly for his family, he wouldn't so much as acknowledge it. Blame would be tossed around to whosoever he could assign it and his attitude would be poorer than any Muggleborn.

"Parkinson. Your cousins are here for you," Greengrass' even voice called to her, the lack of care evident in her voice.

With a sigh, Pansy opened the other side of the curtains so that she could avoid Tracey Davis, and after doing so, she swung her legs so that they were off of the bed once more and onto the soft, carpeted ground below. The Slytherin dorms were… adequate if she were in a generous mood when reviewing them. There were no personal baths or rooms, but the mattresses were of the utmost quality, the carpet was always clean and soft, and the privacy screens between each bed were mostly ideal. Mostly.

"Flora, Hestia," Pansy called whilst she stayed seated on her bed with her legs hanging off. "Hurry yourselves along. I'd like to rest, so whatever you've got to say, do it quickly, dear cousins."

Hestia and Flora were visible within seconds. The two were identical in every way down to the way with which they wore their hair or did the little bit of make-up that they wore. Those two second-year girls were oddly mature, Pansy would credit them with that as they strolled over to her with blank expressions and with no bounce in their steps; Davis would do well to learn a thing or two from the younger girls.

"Hello, Pansy," the two said in sync as they halted nought but a few feet away from her, their eyes unblinking as they took in her appearance. "May we conversate with you?"

They're as mannered and strange as ever. I should have held my tongue when I offered to spend time with them last Yule. It would save me from having to deal with them… still, perhaps they could prove to be useful. Nobody minds them wherever or whatever they're doing, that could be useful.

"You already are, little cousins," Pansy drawled as she held up her left hand to examine her nails, and with her right, urged the two onwards with whatever it was they had come to say to her. She may not be exceedingly busy — a fact that neither of the twins would know — but she was incredibly serious about having time for herself. That was something she seldom had and wished to use more frequently, especially in the instances when Draco was angry, particularly bratty or when she simply couldn't stand to be in his presence.

"There was something we wished to tell you, as we've overheard Malfoy speaking whilst he loitered near the fireplace with Goyle and Crabbe," said the twin on the left, her head cocked to the very same side as her sister started whence she had left off.

"It's regarding how he sees you, and as our family, we thought to mention it to you," the second sister said, and with a glance that was done at nearly the same time from the twins, she finished her 'announcement' that the two had wished to convey to her. "He sees you as beneath him and said that you were his 'greatest follower' in the girls' dorms. His mother also mentioned in a letter that she wrote to him fairly recently that talks are underway for a proposal between your families. He bragged about how he would have you as his wife and Greengrass or another witch as his mistress."

Pansy snorted. Draco was truly in one of his moods if he had said all that, and whilst it may bother her to some degree, she knew where she truly lay when it came to the circle that Draco had formed… all thanks to mummy and daddy. Seldom, if ever, would he show initiative and do something on his own. If it wasn't for his friends, family or Professor Snape, Draco would be but a normal student in all meanings of the word.

"May I?" said twin number one, the twin that had spoken first as she nodded her head towards one of the two seats near Pansy's bedside.

"If you'd like," Pansy said, barely concealing a roll of her eyes as she motioned with no true sense of care for the two younger girls to seat themselves. "Was there something else you wanted to say? I'd suppose there is if you're grabbing a seat."

Twin number two looked at her sister, and they seemed to stare into one another's eyes for ten seconds, possibly more, until the aforementioned girl looked back at Harry, her gaze and visage as queer as ever. "We spoke in regards to your affiliation with Draco and thought that, whilst it isn't our place to say this, it would be best if you removed your person from his group. His reputation is far from decent, and in the eyes of many, he's Potter's nemesis. You also, when in his company, tend only to echo his viewpoints and shrink into yourself—"

When twin number two paused — Hestia, Pansy finally thought as she spied a tiny, embroidered H on the girl's sleeve, Flora picked up where she had left off. "When you're away from him, in our company or in Astronomy, we hear that you're your own person. It's far better than being nought but a follower of his."

"I agree! Malfoy sucks!" Piped up the loud, obnoxious voice of Tracey Davis once more from the area that marked Greengrass' bed; if Pansy were truly vile, she would curse the stupid girl, but she saw not the point in making an enemy of Davis' friend group. Perhaps, in time, that friend group would become a secondary one for her. If Draco continued with his… trivial issues and childlike behaviour, she would seriously consider that as an option.

"Fine," Pansy said quietly, and as she leaned in closer to the two twins. "If it makes you happy, I'll limit my time with Draco. He was a means to an end, but if you think the ends won't be half as good as I think they will, I'm willing to give your point of view a chance. You'll have to help me with my work in place of his circle. I'll not have my grades degrade on account of me limiting my ties with useful people."

Flora blinked at her. "Doable. We've studied as far ahead as we could."

"Mother told us it was necessary if we wished to secure a good future for our family," Hestia added on, the girl's lips now barely raised, in the mimic of a smile or something of that sort; Flora did much the same. "We're glad that you'll finally limit your time with him. He's nothing more than a bad influence."

Pansy rolled her eyes openly for her cousins to see this time around and finally shooed the two away as she crawled back into the middle of her bed. She wouldn't tell the two that she had already been in the process of cutting back on her Draco time, she would let them think it was wholly their idea… but their encouragement and offer to aid her would be more than taken advantage of.

Perhaps, finally, and against her better judgement, she would spread her wings so to speak. It could end quite poorly for her, perhaps it would too, but there would be a net to fall back on and family to use as a crutch should she need to do so. Morgana, she imagined she would, but for now, she liked the thought of having a truer sense of freedom. In time, Draco would realise what her lack of company meant and she imagined he would come crawling right back to… her…

Wait a minute. She went over the twins' words in her mind and came to a startling conclusion. They were a year behind her, so how could they know about her performance or acting in Astronomy?

Pansy's eyes sought out where they had once been in the hopes of catching a fleeting figure of one of the two so that she could call them back to demand answers, but they were now long gone. She would keep an eye out when next she went to that class, and even during it, she would look around from time to time to ensure she wasn't being watched by her unique, to be polite, cousins.

If they weren't family, the words and thoughts she would have in regard to them would most assuredly have been different.

Perhaps I'll put that new plan into motion now so that I can see if Draco truly does come to miss my company, Pansy thought to herself before she slowed her pace and moved purposefully near Draco, but not close enough that he would outright call to her. She would for him to make the first move, perhaps even attempt eye contact, at which point she would continue right on past him.

"... Potter thought he would have gotten an A or O on his potion, he was sorely mistaken," Draco said with a laugh that the other wizards nearby echoed until his laughter stopped, at which point, so too did theirs. "You should have seen the look on his face. It was like his mudblood mother had died. Again."

Pansy rolled her eyes at the crude, boyish joke and continued to stroll right on past him. He didn't seem to pay her any attention whatsoever, and seeing that, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned the corner of the hallway that she finally came upon. It was his loss, and for the first time, she didn't seek out his company or words of praise for trashing Potter or his ilk whensoever they managed to see them.

It was an odd first. Her stomach felt a bit uneasy at the lack of company at her back in the event that those she wronged wished to confront her, but Pansy was strong and had a good head on her shoulders. She would not allow herself to be intimidated or confronted by any fellow student inside of Hogwarts. Gryffindor or Slytherin, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, she'd challenge them back with a superior smile on her face, for she knew they hadn't the history, prowess or eloquence that she possessed.

That was, again, something Draco would come to miss in short order and she would enjoy the sight of him grovelling when the realisation struck him. If he thought she'd return short of pleading and truly gentleman-like behaviour, he would have another thing coming.

Pansy couldn't contain the sneer that came to her face when she passed a group of Hufflepuff first years. They were boisterous beyond reason, friendlier than any person could truly ever be and larger than any self-respecting Magical being would let themselves be. Overall, they were bothersome Half-Bloods or Muggleborn, and whilst some views might not be truly imprinted into her, there were some words that nearly always rang true in regards to the mixed-blood Magicals.

When it came down to Purebloods of her ilk, they were far removed from the new arrivals. They had a truly amazing lineage, history, traditions an—

Pansy turned another corner, but this time, she ran directly into somebody. It had to be a boy based on the build, though he felt scrawnier than many others even if he was broad-shouldered.

"You're walking on the wrong side of the hall," she said immediately and without looking at whoever it was that she had run into; no Slytherin would be pressed into the corner, they would be walking down the centre of the hall.

"Sorry, I didn't see you," came the boy's voice in response to her words, a modicum of true apology within as the voice dawned on her; as soon as it did, she looked ever so slightly up to see his face to ensure she wasn't wrong. She wasn't.

In response to what she saw, she narrowed her eyes without even meaning to do so. "Potter," she said, her tone accusatory even if nothing else followed her one-word remark.

"Yeah?" he asked after nearly five seconds had passed and he was still doing nought but looking at her, a curious, unreadable expression on his face even as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to run into you, I was just inside of my own head and thinking about something… I'm surprised you're not with Malfoy."

"Why should it matter who I'm with?" Pansy asked, only just managing to keep anger or the like from her tone; she truly didn't want an argument or confrontation with Potter, but it was nearly second nature to her after all the time in Draco and his circle's company. It was as if there was some sort of disposition to hate any Potter, Mudblood or Gryffindor on sight. "I… accept your apology. Perhaps I was quick to anger and accuse you of walking like a giant buffoon. You wouldn't know to walk down the centre of the halls as most self-respecting wizards and witches favour."

Potter didn't know what to say to that based on the way he opened and closed his mouth multiple times, and truly, she didn't care so long as they avoided coming to an argument or verbal sparring match. She didn't wish to put him in the dirt any more than he likely wished to have his ears filled with his own ineptitude given voice by her.

"Malfoy is down the hall, one turn to the left and a second to the left afterwards, if you wish to avoid him," Pansy found herself saying. "I'm sure he's probably still there, speaking about you and your friends. I half-wonder if you're as fascinated with him as he seems to be about you."

This time, Harry's brow furrowed before he shook his head adamantly from side to side. "Malfoy's trouble and I try to avoid trouble whenever I can. I don't see the point in fighting with him, and I don't understand why he's always coming after me. Thanks, by the way, for the warning… and, well, I suppose by, Pansy. I'll see you in Astronomy. Right."

"You're lucky enough that you will," Pansy agreed as she flipped her hair, and straightened out her uniform after he had so rudely caused wrinkles to form from when he had walked into her. "Bye, Potter. Try not to run into me again when you next see me."

January 23, 1994

"What?" Pansy asked with her brows raised in indignation and surprise. "You're forcing us to change partners? Does the Headmaster know about this?"

Draco championed her cause, not a second after her words were completely out of her mouth, for as she thought, within a few weeks of her doing as she'd done, he was sorely missing her company even if he hadn't approached her thus far. "I'll have my father and the rest of the board reverse this decision and see to it that there's no forceful change midway through the year, Professor Sinistra."

The Professor snorted. "Do as you wish, Mister Malfoy. You'll find that such rulings are mine to make, enforce and change as I see fit. The Headmaster doesn't need to know about this, Miss Parkinson, for my word is law within the confines of this tower — now move to your newly assigned seat and vacate the one alongside Miss Bulstrode, or you'll find yourself explaining why you couldn't perform such an easy action in detention come tomorrow evening."

Pansy snorted, and nearly fired a response back at the Professor, but stopped short. With anger on her face and as she purposefully moved slowly, so as to waste time, she packed up her belongings whilst sighing as often as she could. The other Slytherins that were forced to partner with their fellow students from other houses did much the same, for their standards, stenches and self-love were far and away from the Slytherin standard. Finally, and as all things must, Pansy's time packing came to an end as she moved to her new 'partner' for however long the Professor wished to be problematic.

"Hi, Pansy… I guess we're partners now, huh?" Potter's look was hopeful and welcoming, but after the sudden and problematic change, Pansy didn't care all that much for his eagerness or friendliness.

Her parents had wanted her to get in close with Malfoy and thanks to this Professor, a portion of their already-strained 'bond' was removed. If that wasn't bad enough on its own, Professor Sinistra had decided to partner her with Potter of all people. Sure, she didn't hate him as badly as a few others in her year did; Malfoy, Goyle and Crabbe especially, but she still didn't want to be overly close with him. His friends save for Hermione were lackwits and had a glaringly apparent lack of manners whilst Potter himself wasn't all that perfect despite what many people seemed to believe.

The Twins did tell me to distance myself from Draco, and I have. I suppose so long as I don't alienate myself overly so, this can't be too bad. I'll have to ensure that I don't seem too eager to speak with him, nor should I be the one to act first.

"We're partners until the wonderful Professor decides to change that," Pansy responded as she went about withdrawing her few possessions that were directly related to their Astronomy class. "I'm sure you're already well aware, Potter, but we're not friends. I'll apologise for a few past distasteful actions at the behest of those I was with at the time, but that'll be all."

Harry shrugged. "We don't have to be friends, all I care about is getting a good grade and I'm assuming you want the same. Bad grades don't help anybody out."

"Correct. I'd like a good mark in this class just as I've received in all of the others, and so long as you're agreeable, we won't need to do more than the minimum so as to avoid bothering one another," Pansy nodded at the Professor, the older woman was speaking and gesturing to the stars above, but neither Pansy herself nor Potter seemed all that interested in what was being said. "I suppose you avoided Malfoy the day I told you where he had been loitering?"

He shook his head. "I walked past him with a few friends so he'd know I wasn't afraid of him in case it was a test… he didn't say anything, so I guess it wasn't. He's seemed out of it lately. Hermione's said the same, that he's been acting strange and hasn't been focused on us."

"Does your little Muggleborn friend think about Draco and how he acts often, or just when you ask about him?" Pansy inquired with a self-satisfied grin on her face. Whensoever the chance came about that she could take a dig at the mudblood Granger, she would take it.

For Pansy, it wasn't a matter of pride in regard to her blood or anything else directly related to blood supremacy. It did, perhaps, play a small role but it wasn't remotely close to being the driving force. What it came down to, very simply, was the arrogance and behaviour of Granger the insufferable. She would have to get the last word in, she would have to be right and should she be corrected, there would be a meltdown. Honestly, Pansy's fellow witch should spend far more time with cosmetic charms and magazines regarding style instead of solely educational books. If she did just that, perhaps some boy might take an inkling of interest in her.

"Hermione," Harry responded after a few seconds of silence that Pansy had chosen to fill with thoughts, his voice terse as he looked at her with a visage of near-anger. "Call her Hermione, 'Mione or even just Granger since you don't seem to like using first names. Muggleborn isn't as bad as what Draco calls her, but she's more than her blood, yeah?"

Instinctively, Pansy wanted to respond that she would call Granger whatever it was that she wished to and that there was nothing he could do to stop her from doing exactly that. The urge was strong just the same as her willpower was, but, if only for the sake of what her cousins the Carrow Twins had said, she refrained. There was no need to close off Potter and all those who seemed at his beck and call over something as trivial as a mudblood's name. If need be and as her mother had taught her, Pansy would be the superior Magical and rise above petty name-calling.

"Granger," Pansy said with a roll of her eyes, the latter action required if only to show Potter that she wasn't entirely submissive to his demands at the behest of a weird sense of 'decency' that seemed to manifest in most Gryffindors.

"Thank you. Is there any reason you're so opposed to calling her Hermione or me, Harry? The other Purebloods like Ron or Susan use our first names, and they definitely don't act like any of you in Slytherin… there's got to be a reason for that, and I'm interested in learning about it from you. I guess that's assuming you'd be willing to speak with me since we didn't really talk all that much when I bumped into you in the hallway that one time," Harry finished with a hand on the back of his neck rubbing at the scruffy hair thereon.

Pansy would be polite and ignore the sign of his nervousness even if she wasn't totally aware of why it was present beyond her own innate beauty. There had never been a boy that seemed as nervous as Harry would sometimes be in the presence of others and without his two stalwart companions, but in that same air, he could rise up to be as immovable as Hogwarts herself. He was an enigma, and when Pansy turned to look at the stars, she caught Draco watching her and Potter together.

Perhaps Potter would prove useful after all. If Draco was acting strange around the same time she had chosen to distance herself from him, perhaps the cause of the issue was the lack of proper feminine company that had kept him grounded. Her mother had said often that every wizard needed a strong, resolute and beautiful witch at his side to save him from his own eventual ineptitude, and it seemed as if poor Draco was learning that very early on in what could still be their eventual relationship.

You could just snag the boy-who-lived sitting next to you. The Twins would be happy, mother and father wouldn't be able to complain and you'd be rich beyond belief with fame to match it.

She shook her head at what a deeper part of her mind conjured up and focused instead on the desk before her as well as the stupid Professor that had caused the newest problem in her life. Potter wasn't the type of boy she should like, and he wasn't, but… he wasn't unattractive as far as Half-Bloods came, and whilst he wasn't cultured, he could be worse. Far worse.

Perhaps she could test the waters and see how he compared to her dearest Draco. Some manner of competition wasn't uncommon when it came to wizards wanting their witch, and to have the two of them compete for her would be most enjoyable. It would seem that this little partner exchange might not be as horrible as Pansy had thought it would be, after all. Not if something truly enjoyable and beneficial could come about from it.

February 5, 1994

"You'll all have until our next class to complete this chart with accurately spelt constellation names and a near-perfect placement of each of the major stars we've learned about with one another," Professor Sinistra said loudly and as she strolled throughout the entirety of the Astronomy tower, her eyes shifting from person to person as she moved around. "If I were you, I would spend the remainder of class going over the details with your partner and the logistics of working together despite being in different houses — why are you waiting? Move."

As if they had all been waiting for the woman to give them permission to speak or shift about, a great many of Pansy's peers began to huddle closer together as they discussed the assignment they had been given. It would undoubtedly eat up a great deal of time and the accuracy of the spelling, whilst not problematic, could only be left to Pansy. She knew that Potter's writing wasn't remotely as attractive as hers and not only that, but a great many of his past grades, from what Draco had said, hadn't been as excellent as one would think when it came to the 'greatest wizard' of their generation. Dumbledore, it seemed, was letting down his favourite student.

"I can handle the project. I'd like to receive more than an acceptable mark and if we work together, I'm not sure we'd be able to manage that," Pansy stated with a small, kind smile on her face as she looked at Potter, her hands already deftly moving to put away her belongings.

"No," Potter said resolutely. "We should do it together. Professor Sinistra will know if it's only you that works on it and I don't want to get detentions from her because she thought I wasn't pulling my weight."

Pansy fixed him with a glare that would typically shut Draco up when he grew a bit too large within the confines of his own mind. "I've seen your writing, Potter. It leaves a lot to be desired and, unless you've memorised the precise locations of each of the stars that we've studied, I'd like to ensure that I see to that major detail too. If you'd like, you can grab the paper, draw a few of your own and if they're wrong, we won't lose as many points."

"Pansy. I don't know how you've done projects in the past, but when I've worked on them with Hermione, Ron or just about anybody else, we did them together and got the grade together, thanks to both of us. We can do the very same thing," Potter nodded at the large, dark parchment that had been given to every team. "Why don't we start right now and get a base for our project? This'll only take a few hours at the most and if we get half of it done tonight, we'll only have to see each other one more time between now and our next class. That should make you happy."

Do you presume to know what makes me happy and what doesn't, Harry Potter?

"Do you grow tired of my company, Potter?" Pansy asked instead, batting her eyelashes and pouting her bottom lip out at him as she scooched herself a few inches closer.

Potter's eyebrows went confused as his eyes squinted whilst looking at her. "What're you doing?"

Pansy cocked her head at him the same way that her little cousins would often do. The effect likely wasn't as unnerving as when they did it on account of there being two of them and only one of her, but she liked to think that it was still not all that visually appealing to whosoever saw her… perhaps visually unappealing wasn't accurate, but moreso a sense of intimidation or something similar. Yes, that was better worded. Pansy didn't do anything that was visually unappealing and when she did, whatsoever it was would turn visually appealing in an instant.

"What's wrong? Hasn't a witch ever pouted at you before, Potter?" Pansy asked with a sniffle as she brought one hand up to rub at her eye. "It's hurtful to think this doesn't work on you… don't you… don't you think I'm cute?"

Out of the corner of her eyes, Pansy saw that Draco was watching her and completely ignoring the daft Gryffindor bird he was next to. Her name was Purple or Turquoise… or something else that was colour-based. Pansy didn't particularly care so long as Draco was watching her, for her little show was double-edged. She wished to throw Potter off-kilter and to see what he thought of her based on her words, and at that same time, she wanted Draco's eyes to be on her.

If he thought Potter had hurt her feelings or done something of that sort, he was more apt to approach her with a proper apology as he'd be prompted to do so based on the honour his parents would have instilled in him. If not for that, then for the Slytherin pride that was in every witch or wizard who wore the colour green.

"I… we'll work on it tonight and tomorrow so we can… uh, get it over with," Potter cleared his throat, looked away and brought a hand up to loosen his tie as he looked into the night sky. "That works for me and I'm going to guess that it works for you too. So why don't we get started?"

Pansy grinned to herself when she saw Draco sneer and leave his desk, intent on exiting the tower as soon as their official time of class was over. She was equally as pleased with Potter's stammering and ineptitude when it came to dealing with a pouting witch. Each of the two would be enjoyable to mes—

"I guess you're kind of cute too… if you really wanted an answer before we began our project," Potter muttered so quietly she half thought she had misheard him.

She nearly asked him to repeat what he had said, but he was intent on looking anywhere but at her and with that alone, she realised that he had, in a way, called her 'cute' despite the fact that she had been jesting with him. Not even. She had been jesting at his expense and teasing Draco all at the same time, and yet he still thought that she wanted an answer and he had given what seemed to be a truthful sort of one.

When that realisation struck her, Pansy felt her own cheeks heating up at what his words meant. It was stupid. Very stupid. She wasn't some blushing, stammering and stupid witch from those stupid books that the stupid Davis girl read. She was a Pureblooded witch from a long, ancient and powerful line. How dare he make her of all people blush. Before the year was over, she'd show Potter that she wasn't some witch he could mess around with like that.

"We can work on it together, but I'm looking over where you put the stars and I'm definitely going to be the one that writes their names," Pansy raised her nose despite the faint hues of red on her cheeks. "Come on, Potter. You wanted us to start here so you don't have to see me more than once during the week, so you better get a move on. I don't plan on losing out on much of my sleep because you wished to get a head start on this assignment."

"You won't. We'll place half of the stars and that's all," Potter said with a nic— an alright smile or smirk on his face as he looked at her. He looked like he was in pain or something of that sort, but she supposed it wasn't too atrocious, and so Pansy huffed, folded her arms and motioned for him to start.

She would watch what he did, correct and help as required — she was certain that would be a huge factor — and when she brought the parchment to her room later that evening so that he couldn't meddle with it, she would add the rest of the names of the constellations. It didn't matter if the stars were or weren't placed correctly, for Pansy knew exactly where all of them would go, for the night sky and the beauty of it was a favourite vision of hers. It nearly matched the view into the depths of the lake from the girls' dorms.

Nearly.

May 9, 1994

"Potter," Pansy greeted with a huff as she settled in beside him and began to take out her many belongings for the work they'd be doing with one another.

There had been a lot that had happened lately, and at that same time, nothing at all. Pansy wasn't sure when it had come to pass, nor was she certain of how but it was all traced back to the day that Professor Sinistra had forcefully changed partners in Astronomy. Potter and she had been working together from that day up until the current one, and whilst they weren't exactly friends, the frigidness and nervousness that was front and centre during their earlier conversations were, by and large, gone. There hadn't been a breakthrough or revelation, conversation or relationship, nought but time had passed. Time with which they had spoken to one another repeatedly all the while a jealous Draco watched them, seething, but he didn't interject or even so much as speak to Pansy in the privacy of their own common room.

He was pathetic if he refused to come to her first. It was his fault that she opted to stay away from him and those foolish followers of his. If he couldn't accept that and come forth to seek her out for a change, then as far as she was concerned, she didn't need him. Her little cousins were right. The fact that Pansy was acting more independently and spending her time how she liked to instead of alongside Draco so that they could torment Potter, his friends or the other random peers of theirs at Hogwarts felt as if the school had changed even if the only true change had been within her.

"Afternoon, Pansy. Did I hear a few other people with you?" Potter asked in an attempt to make light conversation, and for a change, she opted to answer him and satiate his curiosity lest he bugs her incessantly about who she had just been speaking with.

"Yes, you would be correct. I was speaking with a few of our classmates — a few of my dormmates, Daphne and Millicent. You'd know them as Greengrass and Bulstrode. They're the same as me, I'm afraid… I don't suppose I ever answered your question from a couple of months ago either, did I?" Pansy tried to recall if she had when she brought up her friends, but she failed to remember all that much of that meeting. If she were being honest, all she remembered was how frustrating that first assignment had turned out to be.

Potter looked thoughtful and confused for a few moments before a look of realisation dawned on him, and afterwards, he shook his head. "No," he said to her. "No, you never told me why you and the other Purebloods prefer to use your last names and the last names of everybody else. I didn't think it was all that important if you didn't say why."

"It's polite. The Professors call me Miss Parkinson and you, Mister Potter. In a way, it's similar to that, do you understand?" Pansy began to tap idly on one of the books she'd withdrawn as she found herself gazing into Potter's eyes. They were a vibrant, energetic and wholly enjoyable shade of green to look at.

Malfoy's eyes weren't bad either, but the more she thought about it, his attitude wasn't as refined as Potter's and his manners were sorely lacking when he lost control of himself. Still, he had table manners the likes of which Potter didn't possess and he knew the true formalities that Potter likely had no clue about.

"I think I do. It's like you calling me Mister Potter, just without the Mister?" he asked curiously as he leaned in closer to her, his face more innocent-looking and friendly than when Draco would try to steal a kiss on her cheek or at the corner of her lips; those were the times when he was acting especially greedy or like the world owed him far more than it truly did.

Those times were when he was at his most insufferable, and Potter would constantly be brought up… Morgana, he must be incredibly angry for Har— Potter to have stolen her away as he's currently done.

"In a way, I suppose that'd be correct. I would never call you Mister Potter. It would make me sound as if I were some lowly house elf instead of a Princess," Pansy moved away when she realised just how close they had gotten to one another, the scraping of her chair made him jolt and Potter, upon realising much the same, leaned back and away from her with an awkward look shot her way that she sorely wished she could have ignored. After a bit of silence and a flick of errant strands of hair over her shoulder, she flipped open one of her books on Astronomy and prodded him in the side with the tip of her pointer finger. "We're meant to draw the shapes of the constellations we've previously named and fill in the stars on our chart that are missing but required to make said constellations. You're ready to start, aren't you?"

Potter nodded rapidly. "Yeah. Yeah, let's get this going."

Pansy nearly thanked Morgana out loud. Things had gotten to be a bit strange between the two of them recently, and whilst she wasn't sure exactly why that was, it seemed to grow stronger and stronger as time past whilst they were partners. She wasn't fond of the weird feelings that arose.

"We'll start wit— sorry," Potter said immediately, his right hand grabbing her left and holding it in the air with their hands essentially holding one another; he had knocked over her ink, and as a result, nearly got it all over the sleeves of her uniform, but his Quidditch reflexes saved that from happening… at the cost of more awkwardness between them.

"You're acting stranger than usual," Pansy said as she gently pulled her hand away from his larger, warmer and stronger one, the warmth especially proving a bit appealing on account of the coldness of the castle and her tone lacking any true bite.

"Sorry," Harry said again as he whisked his want and sent the ink back whence it came, extracting the droplets that had been absorbed into the desk they were using in some old, musky and abandoned classroom from when Hogwarts had hundreds of extra students. "I, uh, it's been a bit of a rough time, lately. If you want, we can work on this tomorrow… I don't want to bother you or risk spilling anything else."

Pansy snorted and shook her head. "Should the need arise, I'm sure I could instil a better sense of caution and awareness in you, and no, tomorrow would be very difficult for me to find the time to work with you — I've promised Greengrass, Bulstrode and the baby Greengrass our Hogsmeade trip for the entirety of the day."

"Oh," Potter said, his voice going so far as to sound downtrodden before he shook his head, blinked his eyes a few times and adjusted himself in his seat. "I'll try and be a bit more aware then. Yeah. What constellation were we starting with again?"

She sighed and side-eyed him. His hair was slightly more ruffled and there were bags under his eyes. He looked incredibly tired and whilst she didn't really care, he was her partner and if they were going to do well for what little of the year remained, she should show a modicum of compassion and care for the boy. It was only polite and courteous. She'd do the same for anybody.

Potter's a person too. He's a Half-Blood with a Pureblood's name, and he's a skilled Quidditch player despite what Draco says, and he's proven kind thus far… fine. I'll be the better person.

"Fine," Pansy said with a nod as she folded her hands in her lap and gazed at him through ever-so-slightly narrowed eyes. "We'll continue this project the day after next, is that agreeable with you, Potter?"

"We can do it no—" he started, but Pansy cut him off with a roll of her eyes and a pointed look as she spoke once more.

"Sunday," she said firmly as she whipped her wand about and the many items she'd only just unpacked, began to repack themselves. "Sleep well, for a change, and make sure that when you arrive, you come ready to work for three hours instead of one and a half. We don't have time to waste and we'll need to catch up on what we've missed. I'm sure after these past few months you can put up with me for twice our normal time, can't you?"

Harry laughed at that. "I don't think you have to call it putting up with you anymore. I know you don't think of me as your friend, but I think after a few months that you've grown on me."

Pansy stood up and threw her satchel over her shoulder. "I'm glad I've grown on you. It'd do you some good to have a proper friend with a storied lineage and who's aware of the formalities and customs of our society. If you'd ever like to learn more about them, I'd be willing to teach you. You're not half as bad as I thought you were."

"Am I still bad?" Harry asked with a bit of cheek despite a yawn following his words shortly thereafter.

Pansy pondered his question, and she chose not to answer him. There was the truth that she could share with him, or she could leave it all up in the air. She chose to do the latter, for Potter wasn't quite worthy of any real friendship quite yet. She still saw him in the light that Draco had cast on him for so long, but that was quickly diminishing as she got to know him as unwillingly as it had been for the first couple of months.

Unwillingly, she thought as she made it to the door. I gave him a chance and he's not done anything to make me regret having done so. He's proven himself to be kind, polite, stubborn and only annoyed when I prod him or insult him. There are even times when I think he might just possess a modicum of cunning.

"You're not horrible, Potter, but that's all. Don't press your luck quite yet," Pansy said, and with those words, she was gone. There was more that she could say but it wasn't necessary. He was a smart boy, he could figure out just where they left off and what she thought of him, and if he couldn't, then he was as stupid as all boys.

Pansy had only just taken a left at the end of the first hallway that would lead her away from Harry and her classroom of choice when two people appeared from out of thin air. Two very familiar people with matching hair and cocked heads with near-blank expressions worn.

"Hi, Pansy," the Carrow twins greeted.

The left one, Hestia, she thought, spoke first. "Did your time with Potter go well?"

"We know you've been working together on various projects," Flora interjected, and when she paused, Hestia spoke once more, until the two went on to finish together.

"... and that progress isn't always as fast as it could be thanks to how often you get off topic,"

"But we're certain that you've come to form an opinion of him with your own thoughts rather than those of others. We've spoken with him a few times and he's been very kind. He doesn't think of us as strange or believe us to be odd. We thought that you'd grow to like him, even, given enough time."

Pansy blinked at the two and shook her head. "Was this something that the two of you planned and how do you know that we're often off-topic… have you been spying on me?"

In sync, the twins shook their heads. "No. We've watched and observed when the two of you have been in public. We believe he has feelings for you and we're aware that you don't seem to have them nearly as strong as he does."

Flora continued alone, moving an inch ahead of her sister. "We're with you. Greengrass and Bulstrode would be too, if it came to it."

"Draco and the others are walking a darker path than you should ever care to join them on," Hestia added, her words and look making her seem as if she were Pansy's senior rather than a girl a year below her in age and Hogwarts.

"Thanks, Hestia and Flora, but I'll continue doing what I currently am. I won't make Draco too angry with me, I'll continue to spend a bit of time around him and the others while I work with Draco — this is what you wanted and apparently something my parents aren't too angry with me about. I'm spreading my wings, building ties with those that are outside of Slytherin and all in the hopes of eventually furthering my position when we've graduated from Hogwarts," Pansy gestured around at their solitude as if it were an example of what she meant. "See? I'm not hovering over Draco's shoulder. I'm doing as I care to, when I care to and how I care to."

The twins slowly nodded, and after exchanging a glance with one another, they cocked their heads to the opposite side as they took up positions on either side of Pansy.

In sync, they spoke again.

"Ideal. Ice cream?"

Pansy huffed and hung her head. They could be so serious, so mysterious and finally, so childlike. They were lucky she put up with them, that she loved them as any self-respecting Lady of House Parkinson would when it came to family.

Yeah. Potter was lucky too. Lucky that she put up with him. Stupid Potter, bratty Carrows and meddlesome parents…

Chapter Text

May 18, 1994

Pansy dropped her satchel to the right as she slid into her spot beside Potter. She was in yet another Astronomy class, and strangely enough, she didn't dislike it nearly as much as she previously had. Now, she wouldn't say that was all thanks to Potter, no, he would get quite full of himself if she did and that was the last thing she wanted; Potter, if he acted like Draco, would grow to be beyond unbearable.

"You look tired," Potter observed, his head rested atop one hand as the elbow thereof sat atop the table. "How's it going?"

She shrugged. "As you said, I'm tired. You know, that might very well be the first time you've ever asked me how I'm doing, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that's the first time you've observed the fact that I'm tired."

"We're friends by now, or so I'd like to think we are," Harry pointed out as their Professor moved away from the table opposite of them and back to her desk; Pansy still disliked the bitch. She was stupid for making them switch even if she had come to think of Potter as a normal-enough bloke.

"Acquaintances," Pansy corrected with one finger raised as she made her point.

"Acquaintances?" Harry asked as he furrowed his brows and a confused, and cut— strange expression appeared on his face. "Why not friends?"

"If we were friends, you'd know my middle name, my favourite colour, the many shops that I prefer to take my business too, and finally, you would have visited my ancestral home once at the very least. Come now, Potter. Surely you've observed some modicum of your history, haven't you?" Pansy arched one of her perfect brows as her hands folded themselves neatly in her lap.

He was Harry Potter. With that last name and the title he was afforded since he had vanquished the Dark Lord, he should know full well about Pureblood traditions even if his mum had soiled that for him. She wouldn't say that, she didn't want to drive him away or make him an enemy when a partnership could take that place.

"Nah, not really. I've never learned about that sort of thing from Ron and Hermione only really talks about how ba… backwards, the wizarding world is. I don't know enough to form my own opinion about everything, so I won't. All I know is Malfoy's dad is a corrupt arsehole, and if the Ministry is like him, only then will I agree with her," Harry trailed off, coughed awkwardly and rubbed at the back of his neck as he looked at her with a near wince. "Sorry for going on a bit of a rampage — if you're not against it, I really would like to learn about the wizarding world."

Pansy huffed and blew a few errant strands of hair out of her face. "I suppose I could find it within myself to enlighten you so long as you're a good student."

Harry grinned as she said that, and try as she might to avoid doing the same, she couldn't stop herself from allowing him a small smile. He looked very pleased, and in response, she narrowed her eyes even as that smile grew ever-so-slightly wider.

"When could we talk about all of that, then? I don't think Professor Sinistra would be happy if we spent her whole class talking about it, and I'm sure you don't want to fail this class any more than I do even if it is pretty boring," Harry gestured to the star chart on the large, shared desk before them with a disinterested look on his face.

Pansy agreed with him. Astronomy was beautiful so long as one observed the night sky and the beauty therein, but when you began to study it as much as they had, that natural beauty was replaced with forced focus the likes of which Pansy wasn't all that fond of. In truth, she despised most of the classes at Hogwarts; Professor Snape, thankfully, aided all of the Slytherins when it came to potions. It wasn't out of any sort of altruism either, but the fact that he refused to have any member of his house fail or do badly in his class.

"We can make time before the end of the school year," Pansy said quietly, her tone dropping subconsciously.

"What?" Harry asked as he leaned closer to her, and when he did just that, she felt her cheeks heat up. Not only that, but she could also feel the gaze of a few of their peers on them. It likely looked intimate, that being how close they were.

Pansy moved back and away from Harry, and then she spoke again. "We can meet for the project in a few days, in the evening — the library should be fine."

She thought that might confuse him, the sudden change of topic, but Harry grinned and nodded. He wasn't quite as dull as most people said he was, and not for the first time she thought that Draco might just be able to learn a thing or two from the Potter boy. If he were even half as polite as Potter, he would have made for the perfect husband. Instead, he wasn't even a tenth as nice as him and the jealousy and other negative emotions ran deeply in him; the Carrow twins might have spoken with her just early on enough in her life for her to avoid making a mistake with him.

I'll reward the pair of them, I suppose. It isn't as if I haven't bought them chocolates and ice cream already.

"We should finish this assignment lest we have to take it outside of class," Pansy finally said as she righted herself in her seat and refocused on the table before them, where their untouched assignment still lay.

Harry nodded at her, pulled himself closer to the table, and as easily as that, he didn't press the topic. Again, she wished Draco could be more like him, not that she would ever tell either boy that. Unlike Draco, he treated her as an equal, mayhaps with even more respect than an equal… her kindness and the few smiles he had managed to steal from her could be explained away by his manners.

She sighed and shook her head as a myriad of thoughts ran through it. He was a very nice, polite and outgoing boy. It made her feel strange, and that alone was infuriatin—

"Do you need to share my book?" Harry asked, breaking her away from her internal struggles. "I, uh, see that you didn't take yours out. I just thought I'd ask if you wanted to share mine with me."

Internally, she screamed.

June 1, 1994

"You seem… off today, Potter," Pansy said as she fought to make sure there was no worry in her tone. "Is everything fine, or was there a problem with Weasley or Granger?" she asked as she looked towards the pair, for they too looked strange, weird or some mixture of emotions that made them look as if they too weren't quite themselves.

"Buckbeak," Harry said, and that was all he said.

Pansy blinked at him. If the word was meant to mean something, it went far and away from her. She tried very hard to recall what that meant if anything, and after nearly a minute of silence, her mind came up empty; Buckbeak had no meaning to her.

"Buckbeack?" she opted to ask back at him. Not only did she do that, but she even went so far as to lean towards him. He, just like any other wizard, should be happy that it was she who opted to move closer to him.

He turned to look at her, and for the first time since they had been 'friends' in his words or 'acquaintances' in hers, she saw a spark of anger and dislike. It was the very same look he used to send her months ago and years ago when they were nought but rivals; rivals didn't fit, she was more like his assistant-rival on account of Draco's seeming crush on him, but it was close enough.

"Buckbeack the Hippogriff — you remember Hagrid's class, don't you? Malfoy stormed up to him, demanded as he always did, and Buckbeak reacted how his nature encouraged him," Harry looked away from her with a whip of his head to the side, and even still, she could see the loathing he wore. "Because of that, Buckbeack might be executed. There's nothing we can do; Hermione, Ron, Hagrid or me. Not even Dumbledore can stop them."

"Malfoy's father was very cross with th— Hagrid and the… Buckbeak. I'm certain you know this well enough, but once Draco's father sets his mind on something, he'll stop only once it's accomplished regardless of the bribery cost," Pansy tentatively reached out one hand under the table until it came into contact with Harry's knee, whereupon doing so, she patted it awkwardly.

Harry moved himself away from her touch, and the moment that he did, she frowned. She had reached out as a 'friend', and so who was he to move away from her after she had done so? She nearly opened her mouth to say as much, but only barely, she reigned herself in. It wouldn't do to make him too angry with her even if the boy was deserving of her ire. She would be the better person and she wouldn't endanger the bond that had tentatively formed between them.

That didn't mean she would reach out to him again. If he moved away from her, fine, he could do as his boyish mind wished. If he ever sought solace in her again, it would be him that comes crawling to her from thenceforth. In fact, unless he helped, she would remain seated and as the picture of Pureblood perfection throughout the duration of the class. There was no way she would do the lion's share of the work on their project, not when the very saying was meant to encourage the Gryffindors; it was a Slytherin that had coined that very phrase and for that very reason!

Lost in her thoughts was how the class eventually went by. Pansy didn't do much, if anything, in regard to their final assignment and the same could be said of Harry. Neither teen did so much as pick up a quill; Harry sulked and plotted, the latter was apparent to her, and Pansy… she spent the time to relax.

She definitely wasn't watching him the entire class.

"Your project isn't finished."

Pansy blinked at the sudden voice and looked up from herself, and when she did, she saw the face of the bitch Professor that had forced their swap months ago; Professor Sinistra. "No, we haven't finished it, Professor," Pansy responded, her contempt barely concealed.

The older woman's face twitched. "You have until the Seventh of June to finish it, and since you chose not to utilise my class, I'll be expecting a masterfully made wonder from the pair of you. Am I understood, Miss Parkinson, Mister Potter?"

The pair nodded, and as soon as they did, they left the Astronomy Tower. Most of the other students were a good ways ahead of them, and as such, Pansy dropped back so that she might share words with the seemingly-sad Potter. It didn't make sense that he and the other two Gryffindor friends of his would be so upset over a being that wasn't all that intelligent in the first place.

"Since you're not acting yourself, I will do the project by myself. You can repay me later," Pansy grabbed the portion of the work that he had taken before he could say anything in response, and after doing so, she hastened herself away from him.

Harry called after her as she did. It was the first time he had seemed himself, but she was quick, quicker than he was, and she made it away from him before he could so much as turn the same corner she had done. Mayhaps there was a portion of her that felt bad for him, mayhaps that same portion of her was why she had opted to do the project by herself too. She wouldn't say that to him though, and she wouldn't have her family work against Malfoy's either; as such, Pansy would do all that she could to keep both boys pleased.

She wasn't stupid, she knew that wouldn't work forever… it was simply the best she could manage.

June 7, 1993

Harry owes me.

Pansy thought that smugly to herself as she strolled aimlessly through the halls of Hogwarts. It wasn't simply for her company or advice this time around either, but because she had done the entirety of the project by herself, and in doing so, she had earned them the highest possible mark on it.

The project, that of a star chart with labels, constellations and even an effect that would see it animated, was the greatest of their class. Malfoy had been jealous, Granger had been surprisingly tame and finally, all of the others that so often sought to outdo her were shown their own weaknesses and inadequacies. Of course, that only lasted for one night before that project was forgotten and in its place, rumours and talk of a certain professor replaced it.

Professor Lupin, the Defence against the Dark Arts Professor for the year, was a werewolf. The man had been the best thus far, though that wasn't saying much when she thought back about the two before him; still, she supposed for a werewolf, the man was incredibly kind and polite, and finally, very knowledgeable. There were many wizards that didn't seem to know half of what he did, and that was… well, very surprising.

Pansy shook her head sorrowfully, though more so for her grade rather than the man. It wasn't likely that their next Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor would be half as good as he had been, and as such, her education in that particular field would continue to be subpar when compared to those who had private tutors or even against some who didn't. Perhaps she'd demand that her mother and father hire her a tutor much the same as Draco and Daphne had gotten. That would be fair and it would see her education continue to be notable.

"Miss Parkinson," said a familiar voice as soon as she turned a corner and nearly ran into that very same person; she hadn't been watching where she was going, most of the time, those that saw her would make way, as they should.

She looked up. "Professor Lupin," she greeted with a polite dip of her head. "I was terribly sorry when I heard that you'll no longer be able to be our Professor… I trust you've another opportunity or job to tend to?"

The man smiled politely at her. "I'll be perfectly fine, and thank you. I'll always think of Hogwarts fondly, and you as a student were amongst the best and most respectable, especially after word of my… condition was made public."

Malfoy more than likely made a remark, Pansy thought instantly before she realised she had called him Malfoy. Potter's rubbing off on me, stupid boy.

"Those who speak the loudest generally have the least to say," Pansy said, repeating words that her father had once told her when she had screamed at him angrily in her youth. They were certainly wise and true words too, for it summed up Crabbe, Goyle and even sometimes, Draco himself.

The Professor laughed and nodded a fair few times. "Truer words are seldom said," he looked as if there was more to say too, but his eyes sought out something over her shoulder and then he bowed his head to her. "I'll have to take my leave — I had forgotten a few things in my office and the Headmaster was kind enough to let me retrieve them. I wish you well, Miss Parkinson."

"And you as well, Professor," Pansy said, the title the only thing she could think to call the man and he was kind enough not to correct her as he dipped his head and finally took his leave, his feet carrying him in the direction of Dumbledore's office.

When he was nearly ten or so feet away, Pansy chose that moment to turn around and look at just who had seemed to scare him away. She shouldn't have been too surprised at who she saw, but she was surprised to see that he looked a bit more like himself; there had been a rumour that he had visited the hospital wing only yesterday. People had said he had nearly been kissed by a Dementor, and had that been true, he wouldn't have appeared nearly as normal as he currently did.

"Pansy," Harry greeted softly and politely. "Would you, uh… would you care to join me on my way to the Great Hall? I think I'd fancy a light snack."

She blinked a few times, thought about making a comment about their project, and finally, shrugged. "I suppose I can spare you a half an hour or so," she said to him as she held out one arm and raised a brow at him as he continued to stand in place. "Are you going to continue to stand there like some dolt, or are you going to escort me? I don't have all day, contrary to what you might think."

Harry snorted, he may have even chuckled, and then he made his way over to her. "My apologies for keeping you waiting, my lady."

Pansy nodded. "Good boy. Granger or some other witch seems to have you trained fairly well, for a Gryffindor."

"I'll let you have that one since you got us the highest mark in the class," Harry said as he eyed her out of the corner of his eye, the pair finally moving, albeit slowly, towards the Great Hall. "So… I was thinking, if you were okay with it, that we could write to one another over the summer. Would you be alright with that, or am I barmy?"

"You're a little barmy," Pansy said with a nod as if she were stating the obvious. When she saw Harry's face fall at her words, perhaps thinking she had meant them seriously and that she was rejecting his offer, she spoke again and quickly; she didn't quite enjoy making him frown or sad, well, not nearly as much as she had used to enjoy it. "I suppose I'll allow you to write to me over the summer, and if you're good, I'll return a few letters… is that fine?"

Why am I asking for his permission? Stupid, super stupid.

Harry nodded, and she swore his cheeks looked a bit red. "That sounds good."

There was an awkward silence that fell between the pair as they continued in silence for a few minutes, but eventually, that was broken with a cough from him and a silly, vaguely-smug look. If he had attempted to mirror hers, he was still very far from being able to do as she did.

"I don't suppose that we're finally friends now, are we?" he asked.

"If you have to ask, is it even worth answering?" Pansy asked in turn.

"Fair point, my friend, fair point," Harry said as they turned the final corner, and in doing so, they slowly moved away from one another; the last thing either needed were their friends bugging them about holding… arms, with one another. "I suppose I'll hear from you over the summer, yeah?"

"Yes. I'll expect you to write me first, like a proper gentleman," Pansy responded as her nose raised itself in the air.

"I can do that," Harry said seriously before he smiled at her, looked away, and smiled again. "See you around, Pansy."

When she spoke, her voice was far softer and weaker than she had wanted it to be. She hated that she didn't hate him nearly as much as she had used to, but Morgana, there was so little to hate once he had spent as much time around her as he had.

"See you around, Harry."

He was going to be troublesome for her. She just knew it.

July 30, 1994

"Pansy, darling," called her mother loudly, the older woman's voice echoing throughout the halls until it reached Pansy's room.

Even if I respond to her, she'll remain quiet until I make my way over to her and father… if father's even here in the first place, Pansy thought with a huff as she lept off of her bed, slid on her slippers and began to make her way towards the parlour room, where her mother was likely waiting for her.

It didn't take more than a minute or two for her to reach the aforementioned room, and when she did, her mother was exactly where Pansy had thought she would be; on a couch, a glass of wine in her right hand and in her left… a letter. Pansy's heart began to beat slightly faster as the prospects of who would be writing to her quickly dwindled; Malfoy would simply visit, as would the vast majority of her family and friends.

"Who is it from, mum?" Pansy asked after she swallowed and composed herself as a lady would.

"Please, darling, you don't fool me," her mother said before she casually floated the letter over to Pansy. "Harry Potter — I remember hearing about him a few times sans the company of your father. You can thank your cousins too, they mentioned that the two of you seemed to have formed quite the friendship this past year of Hogwarts… mayhaps we'll have him writing in regards to courtship soon enough."

"Mum," Pansy said sternly and with narrowed eyes. "I think you've had a glass too many. Potter's an acquaintance, nothing more."

"I'm sure," was her mother's simple response.

"He is," Pansy said with finality as she grabbed the letter and stuffed it forcefully into her pockets.

Pansy's mother laughed. "I said I believe you, darling. There's no need to act quite so defensive — now go on, I won't keep you. Read the letter that some boy wrote to you who certainly doesn't have feelings for you. I'll be here when you want to come back and discuss what he wrote and how best to reply to him."

With a huff, Pansy turned on her heels and did just that. She made her way back to her room, she closed the door loudly, and finally, when she was certain that her mother hadn't followed after her, she ripped the letter open and immediately grabbed the parchment that fell out.

'Dear Pansy,

I'm really pants at writing letters. That's what Hermione and Ron tell me, but I promised, and so here's the first letter. You can probably tell already, but I wrote a few before this but didn't send them. Sorry if this is so much later than you had thought, I really just wasn't sure what to write to you, I mean, who would have thought, right?

Anyways, I thought I'd tell you that everything over with me is good and that I'm seriously still thankful for last year. If it wasn't for you, I know that my Astronomy grade would have been lower by at least one mark, and so if there's anything I can do for you, please, let me know. You're a great friend to have, and Merlin, let me tell you, I never had to work so hard to have a friend. Then again, most of my friends don't hold my arms when we walk.

Right. We still have to go over this Pureblood stuff. I don't know but a thing or two and if there's anybody that could teach me, it's you. I guess I've got a bit distracted, so before this letter goes on too long, let me ask about you.

How are you? How's everything at home? Do you and your family usually do anything over the summer? Would you want to maybe go to Diagon Alley or something, if you can?

Your friend,

Harry'

Pansy swallowed as she set the letter down and, once again, looked at her door. She was certain that her mother had to be close by, there was no way the woman wouldn't want to quiz her about the letter. It wasn't often that anybody, least of all Harry Potter, wrote to her, after all. But, Pansy needed time to think about everything he had written to her before she called her mum in.

As was usual of Potter, he had seemed nervous and awkward even in his writing. It had to be because of her beauty, but she didn't really think that he liked her like that. She was at fault on account of the bullying earlier on, but that didn't need to be brought up again.

He had manners too, that was certain. No other boy would have thanked her again, and least of all make an offer to do whatsoever she wanted in return for a good grade. It made her feel strange and fuzzy, and beyond that, when he had called her a 'great friend', a mixture of annoyance, smugness and bliss; she had very quickly become one of his greatest friends, for it was known to nearly everybody at Hogwarts that he didn't have very many of those — he had even requested, again, to learn about the old ways. Those were traditions that his family would have raised him with had they not been killed… but to ask her to teach him instead of Dumbledore or one of his friends.

She was exceedingly happy for the chance and for the trust that meant he had in her after such a short amount of time. Her resolve was stronger now than ever before in ensuring their friendship, strange as it was, continued without an issue.

I suppose I should write my response to him immediately. It wouldn't do if he thought I was nervous, and I shouldn't leave him waiting lest he loses his nerves.

Pansy nodded once to herself and very quickly made her way over to her desk, where she sat down, pulled out her favourite quill and an inkwell, and finally, began to write her response upon a wonderful piece of parchment.

'Dear Harry,

As I stated previously, you're very welcome for the assistance and end result of our time together in Astronomy. There's nothing that I would ask of you, but should you think of something, I'll not stop you from saying your thanks howsoever you'd like to. Now, to answer your questions;

Yes, I'll gladly teach you about the traditionalist values and traditions that have been within our culture for centuries, nothing would please me more. As for your other questions, I'm splendid, my life at home is beyond perfect, my family and I typically visit a villa in France over the summer, and yes, if you'd be willing, I would very much enjoy a trip to Diagon Alley with you.

I hope this letter finds you in good health and in a better mood, I hope you too, are feeling well and that your life at the present is good.

Your friend,

Pansy'

Immediately after she finished, Pansy scanned it for any imperfections. It could be one drop of ink, one smudged letter or even a spelling error; if any was present to any degree, she would rewrite the letter onto another piece of parchment. Thankfully, that wasn't to be, for she didn't mess up and as a result, folded that very parchment up and sealed it before her nosy mother could try and read it.

That wasn't to say she wouldn't discuss the letter or Harry's with her mother. She might even let her read his letter so she could pick her mother's mind on what exactly was going through his; her mother had far more experience with wizards than she did, after all…

Yes, that was exactly what she'd… do…

Why am I getting so excited and involved with him? I told the Carrows that I would make friends outside of Slytherin, and I've done that. I said that I wouldn't go all in on Draco, and I've done that.

Pansy shook her head as the smarter, more refined version of her came free. Everything with Potter was moving too quickly. She was a lady, one that had much expected of her. It wouldn't do if she let herself get caught up in a friendship that grew too quickly and too public with Harry Potter of all people.

Then again, he was so very kind, polite… handsome.

Her head fell to her desk, and she groaned. Not for the first time in her life, Pansy wished everything could be far, far easier than it was.

August 24, 1994

Pansy looked in the mirror and smiled at the reflection she saw. Her hair was done up perfectly, and the necklace she had chosen — with the help of her mother — matched the dress she wore. Her bracelets acted to highlight the rest of her outfit, and the heels that she wore were nought but the cherry on top; she looked every bit a princess.

"You'll make him lose his train of thought, my darling," her mother said from behind her, the older woman's visage happy and eager. "If he's able to speak, I'll guarantee the first words that come flowing out of his mouth will be in regards to your beauty… if his letter is anything to go by, I dare say my former statement will be what truly happens."

"Do you truly think so, mum?" Pansy asked.

"Of course, my darling girl. No little wizard's going to be able to look at you and think clearly. You're my daughter — my very beautiful, stunning daughter. I dare say no boy will ever truly be deserving of you," her mother finished by strolling forward and kissing Pansy's forehead.

At the kiss, Pansy looked up at her mother and smiled. "Thank you, mum… you don't think this is fast do you? Or possibly foolish? Harry Pott—"

Pansy wasn't able to finish her sentence before her mother interrupted her.

"Harry Potter would be a wonderful boy to date even if the end result isn't marriage," the older woman said with a wave of her hand. "And no, I don't think is fast, not remotely. You're going as friends, and when I was your age, I had gone to nearly fifty lunches with boys your age that were for nought but connections and friendship. Don't overthink everything, Pansy. There's no need to ruin it for yourself."

"What about the Malfoys? If they find out that I've gone to lunch with Potter, they'll be quite cross with our family," Pansy pointed out; she knew that Draco's jealousy was vicious and that if he wished it, his father would have some sort of revenge against her family.

Her mum made a motion with her hand and tutted at her. "We work with them out of convenience, not because they're our only options — this isn't a marriage ceremony, it's not even a date. Perhaps this could act as a wake-up call for the little Malfoy brat. If he wants you, he'll have to put in the work to get you. Now, before you say any more silliness, get going. I doubt Harry Potter would be happy if you were thirty minutes late and all because you were too nervous about going to see him."

Pansy turned to look at her mum, and when she did, she hugged the older woman. They might argue from time to time, it could even be heated on occasion, but there was no other person in the world that reassured her half as well as her mum.

"Thank you, mum," Pansy said quietly into her mum's chest.

"You're welcome, darling. Good luck on your date, and do try and avoid scaring him off. I'd like you to be happy before I'm old, grey and wrinkled. You can manage that for me, can't you?"

At her mother's parting question, Pansy simply giggled; she couldn't always be the good girl that her mother wanted her to be. There wouldn't be any fun in that sort of life.

Pansy appeared in a large, wide-open room and as soon as she did, she took her leave from it. There was no need to stay and loiter, for as it was, she was already nearly ten minutes late from the time she and Harry had agreed upon their lunch… meeting. It wasn't a date either, they had both been clear about that.

Quickly, and with her hands hiking up her dress just enough so that she could jog, she made her way towards the very expensive restaurant that he had insisted he bring her to. She wouldn't complain, she wasn't stupid. It took her all of one minute at such a fast pace to reach it too, and as soon as she made it around to the front of the building, she spotted him; he was in a very new-looking suit, his hair… his hair was done rather than wild-looking and Morgana, he looked handsome.

She had never seen him so clean up and professional-looking. It was a stark contrast to his typical Hogsmeade clothing, and his hair was far and away from how it usually looked. Pansy swallowed, let her dress fall back to how it should be, rubbed at her neck and finally, after a brave encouragement to herself, she moved towards him. It didn't take more than a few seconds before his eyes found hers, and as soon as that happened, she smiled politely, and at the same time, arrogantly, at him.

Her beauty was known, and when he swallowed visibly and remained rooted to where he had been standing for a few seconds before he made his way — with a stumble on a brick — towards her, she realised most infuriatingly, that her mum had been exactly right. When they were only a few feet apart, a distance that was appropriate to speak, he opened his mouth and simply sputtered at her in a most undignified way.

Pansy had thought she would handle that well, easily even, but she couldn't. In response to Harry's nervous sputtering and how he looked at her, she giggled. When she tried to stop herself from giggling with one hand raised to her mouth, she simply made it worse; she snorted.

She, Pansy Parkinson, had found it so funny that she giggle-snorted, and Harry all the while, was still sputtering. Any onlookers — and there were many — had to think that the two teens were the most stupid, awkward couple that they had ever seen. It would certainly have been a thought that raced through her mind.

Eventually, thankfully, that came to an end. Naturally, Pansy was the one that righted herself first.

"You look very handsome today, Potter," she said politely and with a curtsey as the two moved closer to the restaurant.

Harry blinked a few times and swallowed, she swore she could see his heart beating through his chest, but still, he was finally able to get words out to her. If he hadn't, she was certain that she would have burst into another fit of inappropriate giggles. "You…you're — You look very pretty," he eventually got out.

At that, Pansy smiled and gave him a curtsey. "Thank you," she said as she held her arm out and nodded towards the entrance of the restaurant. "I believe we're ready. Well, unless you'd like to look at me some more before we enter."

He shook his head, but then he shook his head again. "No, I mean, it'd be gra—" he stopped, shook his head, and took in a breath. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"Only slightly. You're cu— amusing," Pansy said, catching herself before she truly said something that would be unbecoming and possibly even friendship-ruining.

"I'll get you back. But yeah, let's go in," Harry took her arm and moved towards the door, whereupon reaching it, he opened it for her and allowed her to go in first. "I hope you don't mind, I put in the appetizers. I figured if you were running a bit late it would be best to put them in before any crowds come about."

Pansy shrugged. "That was smart."

She made it over to the table and just about pulled out her own chair when he moved past her and did just that. To say that she was surprised was an understatement… it nearly felt as if he was courting her with that one action alone.

Morgana, Pansy cursed. Why did I have to think about that?

Her cheeks went red, and as he pushed her seat in with the utmost care, she couldn't help but think he truly was attempting, in his own weird way, to court her. They were much too young and their friendship much too new, but still, this felt as if it went beyond what friends did for one another.

Pansy shook her head. Her mother was right, she was overthinking it again. If they were friends, they were friends, and if they would ever become something more, that would be in the future. There wasn't any reason for Pansy to ruin their friendship, brittle as it could sometimes be.

Instead, she would enjoy the time they were given together and tease him in a more friendly manner. It wasn't as if he expected anything from her as so many others in her life often did… with him, she could be Pansy.

She would never tell him, but that was the greatest gift he could ever give her.

August 24, 1994

"You're zoning out again, Darling… I suppose you're thinking back about that date with Harry Potter, aren't you?"

Pansy's eyes went wide on account of her father only being a dozen or so feet away, and so she shook her head rapidly, her hair whipping all about as she did so. "Mum!" she whisper-yelled for emphasis.

The older woman grinned and poked Pansy in the side. "Please. Your father doesn't even hear what we're discussing, not with Lucius and the Minister only a few feet from him," her mum scooched her seat ever so slightly closer to Pansy. "You've been very strange whensoever I bring that boy up too. I almost feel as if there's something my favourite, beautiful and most precious daughter isn't telling me."

Pansy raised her nose and shook her head. "I told you everything."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying."

"You are. I raised you and birthed you, do you really think I can't tell when you're lying to me?" her mother pressed a hand against her heart and made a hurt expression. "My own daughter, my own flesh and blood, she doesn't trust me. Mayhaps I truly am old, and soon, I'll be go—"

"Fine. I may have kissed Harry on the cheek when it came time for us to leave one another, but I can assure you, mother, that it was purely platonic. I've not been distracted by thinking about him either, I've just been thinking about the upcoming year and what father said about it on account of his connections with the foreign relations portion of the Ministry — if other schools from other countries are joining us for something important, I'd very much like to know just what they are before the school year starts," Pansy finished speaking and as soon as she did, she took a large, deep breath.

Her mother, when she looked over at the older woman after having looked away during that breath, simply hummed in response. Pansy meant what she said, she was concerned about the reason other schools would visit and the impacts thereof, but there was, perhaps, a portion of her that was going through some internal strife on account of the kiss she had left on Harry's right cheek. He had been the epitome of a gentleman, though, and as such, as her mother had taught her, she had rewarded his behaviour with a token of her affection. It was only polite, especially after he had spent nearly three-hundred Galleons on them for the meal, desserts, wine and ice cream.

"You don't believe me, do you, mum?" Pansy finally asked as she began to tap on the arms of the chair she was seated in.

Pansy's mum shook her head from side to side. "Not in the slightest, my lovely, but I won't press the matter any more than I already have."

At that, Pansy narrowed her eyes. "Why?" she all but demanded to know.

"If I press the matter, you'll be less likely to tell me anything more that develops between you and Mister Potter. I'm aware that you've begun teaching him about our ways, the true and proper ways that they are, and I wouldn't want to risk that any more than I'd wish to risk the bond that's formed between you," Pansy's mum smiled at her, and it was genuine and happy. "I haven't seen you as relaxed and eager since the first time you went to Hogwarts. I'm happy for you, my sweet girl, and I wouldn't ever wish to ruin that despite all of my teasing."

"Well, you can thank the Carrow twins, they told me not to spend too much time with Draco… besides, I wanted to be a bit more independent. It's like you said, maybe this will make Draco jealous or some other suitor down the road. I'm just future-proofing and making some new experiences of my own, as you said I should," Pansy said balefully, and as she looked towards the nearby gathering crowd.

The Quidditch match between Ireland and… and some other country that wasn't as important would soon begin. She wasn't a fan of Quidditch, she thought the sport was dreadfully boring and that the witches who allowed their wizards to risk their lives over it were stupid beyond belief. If she ever ended up with Harry or any other wizard, she would disallow them from risking their lives over some short, foolish game.

"Ah, and here we are speaking about the boy — mayhaps you're soulmates," Pansy's mother said, her eyes flicking off in the direction of Pansy's father, Lucius and the Minister only to land back on Pansy. "Would you like me to wave him over, or should I pretend that I haven't seen him until you introduce me?"

Pansy nearly narrowed her eyes on account of how eager her mother seemed to meet Harry properly. It would be embarrassing since the Malfoys were right nearby, and by Morgana, Pansy wanted to avoid any real, direct conflict… she could wait too. The Malfoys weren't seated nearly as close to the Minister as her family was, and the spots behind them had been reserved for nobody, or so it seemed.

"No, mum. I'll wait and see if Ha— Potter notices me, and if he does, I'll introduce you after he's come over and greets me," Pansy swallowed as a weird, anxious feeling filled her stomach and made her chest tighten; she squashed that feeling immediately, sat more upright in her chair and folded her hands as was polite; finally, she waited.

"I'm so excited," Pansy's mum bit out as she clapped her hands a few times in excitement.

One look from Pansy and the older woman pouted, huffed, and finally, returned to a semblance of how a Lady of any house should act. For the many Mudbloods and Half-Bloods that were watching, the older woman sat straight, kept her legs close together, raised her nose, folded her hands and put on a look that showcased not only her beauty but also her superiority.

Pansy had learned how to do exactly that from watching her mother with others, and it was very enjoyable, and helpful.

One… two… three… four…

"Pansy!" Harry called as the boy drew closer with an army of Weasleys — improper Purebloods — at his back. "Hey, Pansy," he finally said when he was only a few feet away from her, his words lame-sounding and a nervous lilt to his voice.

"Potter," Pansy greeted back warmly as she turned to look at him with a cocked head and two raised eyebrows. "Are you seated alongside the Minister too?"

He nodded incessantly. "I am."

There was a feminine cough from Pansy's side that nearly made her groan. She didn't, obviously. No proper girl would groan in the company of so many people, it was undignified and mannerless. Instead, at her mother's cough, Pansy turned and gestured towards the older woman with one hand; the motion was fluid and soft.

"Potter, this is my mother, Lady Parkinson — Mother, this is Harry Potter, a friend of mine from Hogwarts," Pansy said by way of introduction for the pair.

Pansy's mother smiled genuinely and held out one hand to the younger boy, one that was bent forward with the expectation that he kiss it to show respect. Immediately, Pansy was happy that she had told Potter about that specific courtesy. If she hadn't, her mother would have made a fool out of the boy upon the first time they met.

Potter, thankfully enough, remembered that lesson after a few seconds of hesitation. He gently brought her mum's hand up to his face, where he kissed it before he gently released it as if the woman's hand could bite him if he wasn't careful. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Missus Parkinson."

"Please," Pansy's mother said as she drew her hand back to where it belonged, that being in her lap. "The pleasure is all mine, Mister Potter. I must confess that I've been quite curious about you since first I heard about the… unlikely, friendship that has sprung up between you and my daughter."

"Pansy's only said good things about me, I hope," Potter joked, and as such, Pansy cringed; he was entirely too easy to read, forward and informal.

Her mother, on the other hand, laughed and smiled widely at the younger boy. "By and large, Mister Potter, by and large — I would tell you exactly what she's said, but unfortunately, we witches must keep our secrets. Isn't that right, my lovely?"

Pansy smiled at her mother and hoped that her eyes conveyed what she truly thought. After doing so, she turned her attention back over to Potter, where a true smile made its way to her face, albeit one that was reserved lest the Malfoys watch them interact as closely as she would have if she had been in their shoes. "Of course, mother."

"We're sat right behind them — go on, Harry, tuck in," interjected a redheaded man who came over with the Minister, and Pansy's father, at his side; it had to be the Weasley Patriarch, big, round and balding as he seemed to be.

Potter did just as the man said and found himself seated right behind Pansy and her mother. At the revelation of who the seats behind them were for, Pansy's mother seemed to glow whilst Pansy glowered. It wasn't that she wasn't excited about having more time with Potter, but she didn't want her mum and the Malfoys to be with her.

If anything, the best time she had with Potter, was private time. It wasn't for anything untoward or inappropriate, but it was simply the privacy that all good friendships required if there were to be good developments within them.

Harry opened his mouth to say more, but — and this happened for nearly the whole match — one of the Weasleys spoke up. Pansy wasn't all that excited about their presence, and she knew immediately that none of them was excited about hers. That was how much of the match went; Harry would make some light, friendly remark, Pansy or her mother would respond, and then he would be distracted by the Weasleys or Granger.

Pansy had wished to speak with him in-depth about anything and everything that she could. After ten minutes, she had wished to have her mother and Potter interact more closely too. None of those hopes beyond simple words came into fruition, and when she thought they might be able to as the Quidditch match seemed close to ending, she, again, was wrong.

Her father ushered them from the stands at the same time the Malfoys were leaving, and once it was clear that she and her mother were safely at the outskirts where their portkey was waiting, he made to return back whence they had just left. He claimed he had forgotten something, his hat, she thought; it wasn't important, he could always purchase a new one, but her mum frowned, wrapped an arm around her and said that they would be waiting for him when he returned home.

It took until the next morning for the news to reach Pansy; there had been an attack on the Quidditch match, and people had been hurt, possibly killed… her father was untouched and didn't say so much as one word about what had happened.

'Dear Harry,

I heard about the attack at the Quidditch cup and from my father, I heard that you were at the centre of it. I don't mean that you were responsible, only that, as always, you were in a position that was risky. I do hope you're alright, it wouldn't do if my only Gryffindor friend was maimed.

Please do write back to me before the Hogwarts year begins. If you do, I promise that I'll allow you to ask me to Hogsmeade this year. I swear it.

Your friend,

Pansy'

When she set the quill down and sealed the letter, she smiled. Mayhaps it was strange of her to do, but truth be told, she had come to enjoy writing to Harry. With him, she didn't have to sign her ancient titles, nor did she have to observe strange courtesies that most others would make her. With him, the same as when they were together in person, she could be herself.

She truly hoped that he would respond before the start of the year, and if he didn't, so be it. It wasn't as if she wouldn't see him for much longer.

September 4, 1993

"I suppose it was a natural-enough look for him," Pansy conceded as she raised one hand to her mouth, whereupon doing so, she let out a few bits of laughter.

"Thank you," Harry said with a grin, one that was surprisingly smug for somebody as kind as him. "I didn't think Professor Mad-Eye would turn him into a ferret. I didn't think he was allowed to… well, I suppose he isn't. Not if Professor McGonagall's right, and I bet she is."

"She is," Pansy confirmed, pleased to do just that.

Potter shrugged. "It was still worth it. I'll never forget seeing that."

"Neither will I. Draco will be very cross with you, you know. He'll maintain that it was your fault that it happened and he'll try and get his revenge however he can. He's petty enough to do that," she looked at the floor for a moment when she finished, but slowly and of their own accord, her eyes sought out Potter's face again; they were treasonous eyes.

"I'll be waiting for him. Malfoy isn't intimidating, least of all after I've seen him in his true form," Potter chuckled, he didn't laugh this time around, but then, his face turned serious as his eyes filled with a faraway look; it would seem the distraction she had hoped to use had run its course. "I didn't think he was allowed to use the unforgiveables either… I suppose he's not though, is he?"

"No," Pansy confirmed, this time quietly and not all that pleased. She knew one would resonate within him, and there was a modicum of sadness in her. It wasn't as if she lacked empathy altogether.

Potter remained silent for a time, but eventually, he shook his head, muttered something and turned to look at her. "Do you think he'll do it again?"

"I don't know."

"But you know how he is," Potter said instantly, her uncertainty not sold nearly as well as she had thought it had been.

"He might. Nobody has ever been able to predict Mad-Eye Moody, that's what my father's always said. I suppose that is what's kept him alive through all the years he's fought," Pansy shifted uncomfortably as they began to get closer to a topic that she wasn't at all fond of; she and Harry would have very different viewpoints and their friendship wasn't worth risking over politics. "Who would have thought we would be Astronomy partners again? Do you believe Professor Sinistra kept us together because she still thinks we dislike one another or do you think she's spotted the friendship we've formed — it's not because of her either, lest the bitch try and take credit for it."

Potter's eyes went wide at her name-calling, and after a second of silence where that surprise made her nervous, he laughed. It was music to her ears after how suddenly his previous attitude shift had made him seem sorrowful and withdrawn.

"I reckon she thinks we're friends because of her, and so she's decided to make sure we stay friends… we could mess with her if you'd like, yeah?" Potter grinned mischievously when he asked that.

Pansy — she knew she should say no — bit her bottom lip in contemplation that barely lasted a minute. "What do you have in mind?"

What am I getting myself into?

She was certain that, whatever it was, would be exciting. Gryffindors held renown for pranks… it would be her first prank. When she thought about that, she couldn't help but be drawn to his lips; mayhaps by the end of the year, she might permit him another of her firsts.

Pansy felt her cheeks flush at such a scandalous thought.

Chapter Text

September 20, 1994

Pansy shuffled her feet along the stone path of Hogwarts and eventually, slowly climbed the stairs of the Astronomy Tower. As was a habit by this point, she was to attend the class with her partner, Harry, and by this point, it wasn't something she could claim to loathe nearly as much as she initially had. Potter, for better or worse, had grown on her to some degree. That wasn't to say she had fallen for him, it was simply courteous to introduce him to her mother and reward his efforts with a kiss on one cheek. If she were a harlot like the Muggleborn or Half-Bloods that lacked a true connection with their society, she would have snogged him.

Her dear mother would have likely lost her mind had that happened throughout the course of her date with Harry, and if her father had managed to overhear it… there was little she could do to stop him from pulling her out of Hogwarts. Harry was kinder than she had been led to believe, and his arrogance wasn't nearly as horrible as Draco's was, but none of that mattered when one compared their fortunes and political power. That was all that her father cared about too; love was the loser, it had to be for the sake of her family.

Not that she would ever love any person so much as she loved herself or her mother.

"I thought you weren't going to show," Harry said by way of greeting when she finally finished climbing the steps and into the classroom at large.

Pansy looked at the stopwatch that was on his person and, with a flick of her wand, directed his attention towards it. "It would appear that I've still got a minute. You were worrying whilst I wasn't even late."

"Of course, I was. You took most of the credit for our grades last year — what was I going to do if the brains were gone?" Harry teased, smiling at her as he pulled out her seat for her in the Muggle way. It was an odd quirk of his that she had come to know. "Do you remember what we were doing?"

"Yes."

Harry blinked at her and looked at the textbook on the table before him. "You wouldn't mind picking the page while I gather our belongings, yeah?"

"Fine," Pansy said with a shrug as she sat down — gracefully as ever — and went about doing as he requested.

Whilst she watched him after completing her very simple task of picking the right page for the book and eventually, their notes, she couldn't help but look more closely at him. Unlike the previous year or the majority of it, she began to pick out various patches of dark stubble along his face. It was odd to think that Harry had changed so much in the few months of summer. He seemed taller, heavier, and manlier.

Draco still appears youthful and boyish. Meanwhile, Harry's like a younger version of the men Tracey constantly reads about in her Muggle-made garbage.

"Finished," Harry declared as he sat back in his seat and motioned towards their united belongings. "I feel like we're one of the fastest groups. Poor Lavender."

Pansy furrowed her brows at his sudden strange comment and turned her attention in the direction that he was looking. As she soon found out, 'poor Lavender' was the least he could say in response to the girl's condition. Her workspace was a mess, her partner was laughing as quietly as he could, and those nearby moved away with charms aimed towards Lavender's vicinity. If Pansy didn't know any better, he was the recipient of a prank or the boy had done one of his own. Whatsoever proved to be the case, she couldn't help but side-eye Harry in thanks. Most boys were juvenile and immature, and yet, Potter, one that should be outrageously arrogant, was humble and caring.

He's how most should act, don't raise him on a pedestal because of the idiocy that surrounds him.

"Poor anybody should they end up partners with Crabbe or Goyle," Pansy said finally, rolling her eyes as she tapped on the desk with her long, painted-silver nails. "Let's begin lest we spend our free time on this project."

"I wouldn't mind," Harry said with a shrug. It was a comment that he said so casually, so off-handedly, that Pansy nearly looked at him in surprise. She didn't, obviously, for she had better control of herself than that, but still, she couldn't help how she reacted.

Her face turned a hue of red indicative of embarrassment, and because of that, she strived to look anywhere but at him. When that proved easy, but at the same time, troublesome on account of their peers, she buried her nose in her back and mumbled that there was something that she needed to retrieve.

"Boys are stupid," she muttered under her breath, the words spoken so softly that they didn't even register to her ears, much less anyone who tried to listen in to what she was saying. Truly, the creatures made no sense and seldom thought about what they said before the words were out of their mouths.

If it wasn't Draco making a careless, distasteful or otherwise egregious comment, it was Harry speaking his mind regardless of the outcome. If others had overheard that, they would look into it as deeply as Pansy did, she knew that was true. It was something she did, and a few of her Slytherin Housemates were half as intelligent as her, which meant big problems the deeper her friendship with Potter grew.

"Pansy?" Harry asked, his eyes moving between her and the paper.

"What?" she got out quickly, her attention still focused on her satchel as she finally began to calm down.

"Do you think there's any place in Hogsmeade that you like? Maybe one of the new restaurants that are open? There's been four, I think — French, Slavic and German food," Harry said, gauging her reaction as he finally set down his quill and focused all of his attention on her.

It made her heart beat faster even if she couldn't see him looking at her. All it took was the knowledge that he was focused on her with his body turned in his seat and his eyes, piercing as they were, on her head whilst she 'looked' through her bag. All of that was beside the point, for the true peak was; why did he want to know if there was a place specifically that she enjoyed within the confines of Hogsmeade Village?

She had a feeling she knew the answer, but it couldn't be. It wouldn't be, and she wouldn't accept it, not if it were, on the off chance, as she suspected.

"I have a restaurant that I enjoy, yes, and I'm sure that any French food would be enjoyable. I do so enjoy the lighter dishes rather than those that sit quite heavily in your stomach," Pansy finally settled down, withdrew from her satchel with a second inkwell — she would make an excuse if he sought one out — and looked at him. "Why? Is there something that you're getting to? It does take time before on—"

Harry didn't wait for her to finish what she was saying before he answered her question. If anything, her words seemed to make him more rash or impulsive, and when he spoke again, he did so slightly louder. It made sense, for he had to continue over her despite how much he knew doing so irked her.

"The twenty-eighth," Harry said before pausing, seemingly mulling something over before he shook his head and continued. "Let's go to that favourite place of yours for lunch and the French one for dinner. Would you be fine with that?"

No. That's not what you're supposed to do, and you're not supposed to speak so loudly, you stupid dolt. Honestly, don't you know anything?

"I'll think about your invitation," Pansy said calmly, despite how strange her stomach felt and the pace with which her mind ran. She had thought that Harry Potter as a friend was good, and on occasion, or rather, very rarely, did she entertain the thought of kissing him again.

She hadn't thought that he would have a crush of sorts on her. It wouldn't work either. Not with her father and what he thought about their blood. Potter should have been a Pureblood. Everything would have been so much easier if he were.

"We could do more than just eat, we do—" Harry tried, but this time, it was Pansy's turn to interrupt him and she did so instantly, lest anybody else overheard what he was saying. She was already certain that there was at least a table or two that had overheard Harry's loud words. If that were true too, that could spell disaster for her. It depended completely on who had overheard Potter's words.

Potter's stupid, bold words.

September 28, 1994

Pansy sighed as she looked into the mirror to admire her reflection. It wasn't out of annoyance for her looks, no, she could never be displeased with her beauty and the additive effects that various potions and make-up had on her. Nor was she bothered by her dress, jewellery or other clothing pieces. In truth, everything was perfect… save for what she was doing and who with.

Potter had worn her down over the course of a week, and yesterday, the day before it was set to happen, she had finally caved into his desires. It was as if her body decided to take control and respond for her, before she told him 'no' again. Once she had confirmed that she would, finally, be his 'date' to Hogsmeade for the day, he had been elated and that sense in her stomach had grown stranger.

Very nearly, Pansy had thought to seek out the Carrows or perhaps even Greengrass, but she had refrained from doing so. Potter was without problems save for his sense of fashion and overly good attitude. There was little she had to worry about in regards to her honour and if he'd try and take it. That wasn't to say the night would be free of any problems, for as soon as word got out that she went with Potter to Hogsmeade, Draco would be on her. He would be pleading, or angry, and the latter made him unpredictable.

Potter had simply begged long enough and well enough that she could no longer refuse. He was as a puppy, so good was his begging, and she didn't care to see him saddened by a sudden cancellation, kind and thoughtful as she was. If only for that and her word, she would spend the day with him. Draco would grow jealous, mayhaps even another boy would, it matters not to her so long as somebody of high renown took an interest in her future love life.

"Aren't you going to be late for your trip with Potter if you wait any longer?"

Pansy's head snapped towards the source of the voice, and when the culprit was found, Pansy found herself staring at the large figure of Millicent Bulstrode. The girl looked like a Viking in both build and appearance, but obviously, Pansy wasn't easily intimidated.

"If he's learned anything by this point in our acquaintanceship, it should be that Ladies are always late. It's when we don't arrive altogether that he'll need to start worrying," Pansy responded as she started towards the door after stepping into her shoes. "Do you still yearn for…"

"Go on your date."

Pansy raised a brow at Millicent's authoritative tone, but she nonetheless exited the room without one look back. So long as Millicent kept her Hogsmeade time with Harry to herself, at least until word got out to all, she would be happy. There probably wasn't a reason to bring up her crush either, that being one very chubby and bothersome Longbottom, but she couldn't resist.

Pansy knew that those she shared the girls' dorm with were towards the top of the ladder in turns of importance, beauty and power, so it stood out to her as weird that any witch with such traits would seek out Longbottom. He was a failure at nearly everything he did, and he was chubby and stupid to boot. It didn't make a lick of sense, and as Pansy moved quickly to leave the Slytherin Common Room, she couldn't help but smile.

It was as if she knew that she was doing something that she shouldn't be, but the consequences didn't matter. In truth, it was nearly as freeing as when she had gone on the date with Harry despite the fact that she knew her father would be cross should he find out. Her mother, like Millicent, would keep their conversations and knowledge to themselves.

With one last look cast over her shoulder, towards a sizable grouping of her peers, she stepped out from the Slytherin quarters and left through the dungeons. Her destination was the courtyard that Potter had instructed her to visit, one that had a large statue in the centre and a small grouping of trees for those that wished to hide under them.

It was then that the feeling in her stomach, the one that pooled and made her feel uncomfortable, returned. The sensation was best described as nervousness even if it wasn't exactly that; Potter better be feeling it too, or life truly was very unfair.

Pansy emerged from one of the dark halls of Hogwarts and saw exactly what she suspected; Potter, resting his back against an archway with his eyes scanning around for her. At first, she thought to make him wait a few minutes more when she would be nearly ten minutes late, but the friendly side of her decided that five was enough, and so she made herself more readily visible to him.

As soon as she did so, his face broke out into a wide smile and he opened his arms. "Pansy," he greeted as he gestured to her. "You look," he paused when the light better hit her and she stepped into the courtyard itself.

"I look?" she asked, a brow raised lazily as she paused nearly ten feet away from him to inspect his appearance.

His hair was less wild than was usual of him, the robes he wore were older, but good quality and finally, when she made it to his posture and the air about him, she inwardly smiled. As Draco typically did, Harry's stance and dress indicated confidence, but it stopped at confidence; Potter knew that arrogance wasn't a trait that anybody wished for in a friend.

"You look brilliant," he finally sputtered out, seemingly in disbelief as he looked her up and down, again.

"I'm glad you appreciate the time that I put into myself. You've managed to look fairly handsome yourself — I see you've gone with a set of robes we've previously looked at too. You made a good choice," Pansy's eyes moved to the carriage that seemed to be private rather than one that Hogwarts settled the cost for. "Private?"

"I figured you'd be more used to private," Harry explained as he moved a few steps closer to the wagon with one arm outstretched. "I hope I didn't pick or assume wrong, but I thought that'd be more up your alley… if it's not something you like, I might have mess—"

"Don't," Pansy said quickly, waving one hand as she closed the remaining distance and grabbed one of his hands with hers as she came to the foot of the wagon.

"Don't what?" Harry asked, perplexed as he looked at her. He seemed quite pleased though, at least with the fact that she had her hand in his; the confusion didn't mask that.

Pansy jabbed him in the side with her free hand. "You were about to share with me the details about the day," she rolled her eyes when he blinked at her following those words. "If you meant to surprise me, then keep it a surprise. I'd be very annoyed if I had planned something and I gave it away, so have confidence in yourself."

"...so it's not an issue?" Harry asked tentatively, and at that, Pansy rolled her eyes.

Boys are thicker than I could have ever imagined, but at least Harry's a kind one. Mother used the word 'trainable' I believe, but that's better suited for someone like father or Draco. Harry's too much his own person for me to change him into what I'd desire.

"No, Potter. It's not an issue," she said with a shake of her head as she fought to cover a disappointed sigh. "Help me climb, if you would. I'd like to ensure my dress doesn't get caught in anything, and I'd be so very annoyed if it were stained or ripped on account of my carelessness."

Harry nodded immediately, and so he set himself to the task of carefully and properly aiding her as she climbed into the Wagon. It was a bit awkward, especially when he put his hands around her waist as she climbed the middle step, but it was over quickly, and another few seconds later, Potter was in the small compartment with her and the door was closed. If not for the light let in through four windows, two per side of the carriage — the centre one that allowed them to see the drive was closed — the place would have been pitch black.

"You do look bloody brilliant if that wasn't obvious," Harry said, swallowing and looking at her as the ride towards Hogsmeade began.

Pansy expected bumps, noises from the outdoors and a small degree of discomfort, for this wasn't the usual cart that she rode in, but it wasn't to be. Harry's pick not only seemed to keep them stable and without bumps, but there didn't seem to be any noise from the outdoors… not until she lowered one of the windows. It was only then that the noise of the great outdoors greeted them, and when that happened, she turned to look at Harry with narrowed eyes.

"Thank you," she said first, polite as ever before she jabbed him in the chest again. "How much did you spend on this?"

"Not much," he responded with a shrug, careless despite the fact that Pansy was onto him. Or rather, she was in her mind.

Demurely, she folded her hands in her lap and looked at Harry carefully. She fought away her narrowed eyes and tried to act the part of a quintessential Pureblood girl. "This was an expensive reservation, I know that. You didn't have to do this to impress me, or because you think I'm used to this."

Draco would have done this for himself rather than for me. He's not able to put up with sub-par conditions, no, only the best for 'mummy's Dragon'.

"I just figured it'd be nice to do. It could be the first good memory of our Hogsmeade trip this year. Who knows if we'll go again, yeah? You might decide to ditch me once Professor Sinistra switches our partners again," he responded teasingly, though she couldn't help but read into how he sat and looked away from her for a split second.

In her mind, she pondered if he was truly nervous that she would 'abandon' him. Obviously, she would never do so. He would be a man with a powerful name, and whilst that wasn't the reason for their friendship, from a logical point of view it was a reason that all should see. Personally, to Pansy, there was much more to their odd bond than that, and she refused to get into it with him in her presence.

"I doubt Sinistra will switch us again. She's happy with the results her experiment's gotten, and she'd have to be forced to switch the groups again, even if that means going back to the original ones," Pansy answered as she closed the window to the outdoors and returned to the silence save for the noise either of them made. "I'm certain that a second Hogsmeade trip isn't off the table thus far either. Not unless you're far from the person I've come to know and that only comes out in po— decrepit villages."

"I guess I should tell you I'm boring, and that you've gotten to know the only me that exists — contrary to what others might say, I don't turn into a snake or monster when I'm alone."

Pansy sighed and patted his upper, closer thigh. "A pity."

"Why's that?" Harry asked, slightly more rigid in his chair.

"If you were a monster, I could have unleashed you on those I despise. Should I have another mark taken off in Astronomy despite our perfection, I would know just where to send you first… though I suppose that might be problematic. There's no telling if the next professor would change our partnerships again," Pansy answered as the speed of the wagon seemed to increase.

In her mind, they were finally on the larger path, and that meant they would be at Hogsmeade within the next few minutes, five at the most.

"You're right," Harry agreed before a flash of realisation hit him and he grinned at her. "Wait a minute. Does that mean you've come to like me too?"

"Slightly."

His grin turned into a bright, toothy smile. He made to speak, but when Pansy fixed him with an arched brow and look that was practically begging him to speak his mind, he stayed silent.

Eventually, however, he got out one last remark before they devolved into small talk, and it was one that Pansy chose to leave unaddressed. There was no true answer she could give to it, none that would make sense to him, and worse yet, she doubted that it would make sense to her if she spared it a thought.

"Here we are!" Harry exclaimed proudly as he opened the door to their carriage, jumped down, turned towards her and held out a hand. It was impressive, truly, how fast he could be. Quidditch probably had a good deal to do with that.

Pansy moved slowly as if all of the time in the world was hers. When she neared the exit of the wagon, she saw the large name painted above the building that had only recently been refurbished. It was of French origin, and whilst she couldn't speak the language, she figured it would be something uppity or poetic — it was so often the design that their culture went with.

"You've taken me to lunch at the new French restaurant," Pansy finally said aloud, as she stood in the exit of the wagon with her hands outstretched.

Potter immediately took hold of both of her hands. His touch was gentle, but reassuring, as he aided her in climbing down from the wagon. She made sure to move quickly at that moment alone, for she greatly doubted that her actions would go unnoticed for very long — Harry was recognisable, and so was she if only for her last name.

"I have," he said proudly.

When Pansy was safely on the ground, he did another action that surprised her. It shouldn't have, not after all of the time they had spent discussing culture and etiquette, but it did. Potter went to her left side, looped his right arm through hers, and started them the twenty or so feet to the entrance.

"You realise this could end up in the Prophet or Witch Weekly, don't you?" Pansy inquired. She was resigned, finally, at the fact that sooner or later, this would get around; be it the school or the country, it would get around. Regardless, her father would find out.

At that point, a burst of panic struck her. She was stupid, very stupid, and all of this wasn't a good idea. Word would spread that Potter cared for her and that she wasn't part of the group that despised him any longer. Draco would be cross, his family and those that liked them would be angry as a result, and her connections in Slytherin as a result would weaken.

It didn't matter if her independence was at an all-time high or if the Carrows were in her corner.

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked cautiously as he paused, and by extension, so did she.

Pansy blinked away all of those thoughts, the potential repercussions, and looked at him. "Fine — aren't you going to open the door for me?"

Independence… Draco won't do anything too rash, and the connections Potter's friendship opens up to me are greater than those that Draco provide, she regarded Harry as he made to do as she requested. Besides, I can't leave now. I doubt our bond would ever recover to a point such as this.

"After you, my lady," Harry said when the door was completely opened and ready for her to enter through.

Pansy cast one last look over her shoulder before the smells from the French cookery wafted into her nose. As soon as that happened, and as soon as she took one last glance at Harry's hope-filled expression, her mind was firm in its conclusion as she stepped into the restaurant and allowed him to lead her to their table.

Potter; she would allow him this day with her, and if it progressed into the start of courtship, she'd entertain him. She could do far worse than him even if he was a Gryffindor barbarian with a great deal of ignorance. If anything, she was doing other witches a favour by keeping him focused solely on her.

Carefully and with a grace about her that was hard to teach, Pansy dabbed her folded napkin around her lips. She didn't wish to rub away her lipstick, nor did she wish to remain covered in the remains of chocolate and pastry crust.

"Thank you," she said when the napkin was placed back on the table. Her hands folded afterwards, and her eyes were focused purely on Harry's opposite of her. "I didn't expect you to treat me to so heavy and varied a menu."

Harry shrugged and pushed a plate with a piece of chocolate-filled bread towards her. "Who knows how long the place will be here, right?"

Pansy hit his foot with one of hers under the table so as to avoid the scrutiny of those around them; it was bad enough that Harry signed something for their waiter despite the difficulty of the language barrier between them. "Still," she said accusatorily. "You have my thanks."

"You're always welcome," he said as he leaned closer to her, his boldness shocking and her heart racing.

Will he kiss me here, in front of all these witnesses? My father might disown me, I shouldn't… mayhaps a kiss on the cheek. Yes, he's done very well, he deserves one token of aff—

Harry pulled back with an object in his hand; the bill. Pansy felt like an idiot and cursed herself out under her breath. Of course, the boy wasn't trying to kiss her. He was simply doing what she had just thanked him for. How daft could she be, truly?

It was as if all of her experience with others and advice from her mother had gone in one of her eats and out of the other.

"I'll be back in a minute, I just need to pay and then we'll go to the next stop — you like shopping, don't you?" he asked as he made to stand.

Pansy nodded, not trusting that her tone would be as she wished it to be.

In response, Harry grinned. "Wicked. We'll stop at a boutique next. It's supposed to have all sorts of French-made dishes, delicacies and more."

As he stepped away and she realised the day was only just beginning, she fell deep into thought. Had he been trying to kiss her, had he truly been trying to, would she have let him?

Mayhaps not on the lips, not right then, but… she wasn't completely certain. That made her feel worried, and the more she thought about it, the more conflicted she grew.

October 12, 1994

Nearly two weeks had passed since their trip to Hogsmeade together, and much to Pansy's surprise, there were very few mentions circulating around the school about their trip together. It didn't make it into the Prophet or Witch Weekly, much to her complete surprise. She wondered if that was thanks to her father or his connections, and whilst she figured that just might be the case, she hadn't received a letter from home reprimanding her.

Mayhaps she and Harry had gotten lucky, and they had been able to enjoy time together as two teens instead of two people from two opposing houses. If that were the case, she would be very thankful to whosoever or whatsoever had aided them. On the other hand, if that wasn't the case and they had been discovered, the person or people were waiting. That would mean nothing good for her, and as for Harry, well, she doubted there was much that anybody could do to well and truly handle the boy.

From what he had said in regard to their earlier years and the many rumours therein, much was wrong or grossly misled. He hadn't unleashed and later slaughtered his own creature, it had been another, and whilst he refused to elaborate, he told her that he had survived an attack and slain the beast thanks to the sorting hat and a sword; it was, unsurprisingly, Muggle.

As for her belief, it waned, but it wasn't completely lacking. Harry was powerful, intelligent, kind, humble and far from whatever Draco claimed him to be — Dumbledore's care and obvious interjections for his benefit in addition to mysterious happenings only added to his mysteriousness. Perhaps Potter truly was a hero that would save the wizarding world as many adults and peers of theirs thought, or maybe he was simply good at playing a part.

That last thought was cynical, for she truly thought him to be all of the earlier aforementioned qualities, but it was better to be paranoid than caught by surprise.

Pansy shook her head, looked at the entrance to the classroom she was in, and sighed heavily. Potter was two minutes late. Him. He was late. Not her. It was infuriating, especially when she had arrived five minutes late as per usual.

Greengrass would be laughing if she could see me, and then she'd tell me to arrive ten minutes late when next we meet so that he'd learn a lesson — Davis would be stupid, and Bulstrode.

With a shake of her head, Pansy cleared what her compatriot would do. Bulstrode was known to be aggressive with her magic, and that extended to boys that she liked. If she so desired, she would throw one up against the wall and snog them until they could barely breathe, and somehow, the boyfriend she had would come back for more.

She's a harlot. Ladies won't but offer a kiss upon one's cheek until they're older.

"Sorry, I was almo—"

Pansy squeaked, pulled her wand and fired a spell at Potter in the span of a second. He surprised her, he came from behind, and she hadn't so much as heard the door open. As a result of that, there was a crash that she hoped wouldn't alert any nearby as to their presence, and immediately following it, she went towards Potter.

He was on the ground, on his back, but thankfully his head had caught a heavily padded chair that seemed to sink around you when you sat into it; the thing was circular and very strange.

"You deserved that stun," Pansy said pointedly and with her hands on her hips as she stared down at Harry for a few seconds. He couldn't say or do much of anything in response, not since he was stunned on the ground, but after those few seconds, she rolled her eyes and 'thawed' him out, so to say.

As soon as he was free to move, he rose from the ground and rubbed at the back of his thighs and his rear. "That wasn't very comfortable."

"Neither was being surprised — how'd you enter so silently?" Pansy all but demanded to know as she prodded at him with the tip of her still, as of yet, withdrawn wand.

Potter grinned at her, something that was becoming as normal between them as a conversation; who would have thought that would be the case a few years ago?

"I can't tell you that, it's a secret," he answered.

Pansy scoffed. "I'll find out eventually. You've been very good at deceit or secrecy, it'll only be a matter of time before you slip up and I find out how you've found me unaware," when she paused, she decided to let it go for the time being and instead looked towards where they would sit. "I've been waiting."

"I got here as soon as I could, and you were late too," Harry answered cheekily as he looped his arm through hers once more — surprisingly more confident than when last he did so — and led them towards those very two seats.

In response to those words, she cocked her head at him and spoke accusatorily. "You were spying on me. There's no other way you'd know that I arrived late. I suppose Gryffindor's greatest Lion has a thing for watching Snakes, doesn't he?"

At that, Harry smiled victoriously and immediately, Pansy realised her slip-up.

"Got you," was all that Harry said to let her know that she had fallen for the trap.

Pansy shook her head incredulously. "I hadn't thought you were capable of any level of cunning or deception. When I saw you dressed up in Diagon Alley, handsome and cleaned-up well, I had thought that to be the most impressed I'd ever be."

"Handsome. Right. You called me that," Harry said, his smile suddenly turning goofy as he looked at her. "Here," he said again, that smile still on his face as they made it to their seats and he pushed hers in for her.

As always, he did so in the Muggle fashion. When his hands, larger and with veins visible on the top of them touched her shoulders, she couldn't help but accidentally press back into them. She was losing her balance, you see, and so that was the only action she could take if she wished to remain in the chair. It was perfectly natural, really.

"I know, I'm very polite — the epitome of courtesy and etiquette," Pansy proclaimed as he slid into the chair beside her. "So…?"

"So?"

"So."

"So what?" Harry asked again.

At this, Pansy nearly flicked his nose, but she refrained from doing so. "You wanted me to meet you here so that we might talk about something, didn't you?"

"Oh. Right. That," Potter got out before he rubbed at the back of his neck and looked at her strangely. "Would you be cross with me if I told you that I just wanted to see you? I didn't really have anything specific to talk about, I just thought we could spend a bit of time together."

"We do have an outstanding assignment with Potions… if you'd like to work on that together. We could practice the new charms spell too," Pansy suggested, suddenly searching for a topic when she realised Potter truly just wished to see her.

She felt similar, and whilst she wouldn't be completely against random, meaningless discussions, there was still something they could try and accomplish. It made sense to do just that too, lest the two get too wrapped up and let the night pass them by.

"Whatever you want to work on," Harry said to her, instantly agreeing so long as she didn't respond with annoyance that he'd called her here for nothing.

Slowly, Pansy reached for her satchel until she stopped, nearly halfway done with doing so. When she stopped and chose to linger for another few seconds, she couldn't help but fix Harry with another look; one that was searching and investigative. It didn't make sense for him to be interested in her when he had more leverage than she had. Maybe she was reading too much into it too, but she didn't believe so. That Hogsmeade trip they'd only just shared a couple of weeks ago seemed to show that he did truly like her beyond that of typical friendship.

Suddenly, she was struck with information from the most recent letter from her parents. It had come from her mother rather than her father, and whilst she was still waiting for news of her Hogsmeade trip to spread beyond the few isolated groups that didn't seem to speak loudly about it. At the time, it hadn't seemed as important to her, but she supposed it might be of some interest to Harry.

"Before I take out my book on charms, have you heard the news?"

Potter shook his head and turned his attention from where she was reaching, back up to her face. "No," he answered. "But then again, I don't usually hear about something until it's happening to me. I'm pretty oblivious, at least that's what Hermione says."

"You're decently perceptive," Pansy said, defending him as soon as Hermione was mentioned; the know-it-all, were Pansy in her shoes, would never say so much as one word negatively about Harry. He would be her greatest desire if she were a Gryffindor and from a family that wasn't dark in views and magic.

"Thanks. I think," Harry responded with a short chuckle as he leaned closer to her. "What was that news, then?"

"We won't be alone this year," Pansy started, making Harry lean closer still to her; she didn't mind and continued speaking without pause. "I was told by my mother, and yes, she wished to extend greetings to you, that two other schools will be present. As for the reason, she didn't make it clear, though she hinted at some sort of competition, so the others and I have been thinking it's the Tri-Wizard Tournament, or the older, more illustrious and inclusive tournament."

"I've never heard of the Tri-Wizard Tournament or that other one," Harry said with a shrug, clearly unimpressed and not understanding the significance of either tournament.

Pansy thought that she should explain it in greater detail, but ultimately, she decided against it. "Three schools compete for school honour, their country's honour and personal gain by way of renown and galleons. It's typically the older students, and contrary to what you might think, it was suspended years ago on account of deaths that frequented the many events throughout the centuries. The larger one was simply that, larger, and with more schools invited and the prize, grander."

Harry nodded a few times. "We can't enter, right?"

"I don't imagine so, but who's to say? People do so love to change traditions, so I question whether or not this could even claim the title of Tri-Wizard Tournament. More likely than not, it's just an interpretation to appease families like mine, the Malfoys, the Greengrasses and others that hold tradition sacred," Pansy was about ready to delve deeper into politics, the intricacies the Ministry went through on a day-to-day basis and other such things before she decided against doing so for one very simple reason; she doubted it interested Harry even slightly.

There were times when even she hated such discussions, and she had been raised with them, moulded for them, and told that she would take part in all such conversations and happenings as soon as she could on account of her being an only child. Would that she could wish for a brother to exist and rely on a fund from her shrinking family. That would have been a far easier, and far better life.

"I could do without a year of craziness. Last year was mad enough… but the more I think about it, I wouldn't change a thing," Harry said thoughtfully, a tone in his voice that she hadn't heard as he looked beyond her.

It dawned on her that, last year, they had turned from enemies — of a kind — to an uneasy, rocky friendship that evolved into an awkward, weird and friendly flirt-heavy companionship. Now, of course, he was still called Potter rather than Harry on account of propriety and habit… mainly the latter… but she truly did think of him amongst her top ten friends.

He had earned that title if nothing else. The proof of that was simple too, for who else would she spend an afternoon with after they wanted to meet with her for no specific reason? She doubted that list was half as long as her supposed list of friends.

"Fine."

Harry blinked at her. "Fine? I feel like I'm missing something again."

"You are, but that's perfectly fine," Pansy responded immediately in an imitation of her mother's personality. She pushed aside her satchel, sat up straight, and looked at him. "Draco said that you stole… Dawby? Do-bee? I don't remember the name, it was a house-elf — we might have even talked about it before, but if that's true, why don't you call to him?"

"Dobby," Harry corrected. "And yeah, I guess I did sort of take him from the Malfoys. They were horrible to him, and I wasn't. Nobody deserves to be treated like garbage. Why should I call him? Could I get you something?"

"We could have him bring tea and snacks whilst we sit and conversate with one another. It'd make for a pleasant afternoon, especially if we were to light a fire on this rainy day. Besides, I'd like to meet the house-elf that you freed and stole from Draco. He was very cross that you outwitted him, and little did he know, many of us teased him behind his back about it," Pansy said, smiling viciously at the thought of jokes told straight to Malfoy's face that he thought he was a part of rather than the victim of.

It was astounding that he could be so naive and so stupid.

Harry huffed. "I wish I could have seen how bothered he was."

"One day, I'll share the memory with you so long as you can find a pensive that works instead of the knockoffs sold throughout the world," Pansy said pleasantly as if Draco's anger was something that amused them both.

And to be fair, it was. Pansy had become increasingly disillusioned with Draco's personality and more allured by Harry's; in truth, the latter boy was very easily the better match in the vast majority of ways. Those that mattered especially to Pansy, however, made the competition more even than it should be. Her inner-conflict thanks to her Father and society made her choice increasingly more difficult.

It didn't have to be rushed though, and it wouldn't be so long as she could help it. In fact, with all the time she'd spent with Harry recently and the typical bits of time Draco took whilst she was in the common room or at Slytherin's table, there was one group that needed more focus from her; Astoria, Daphne and her other relatives.

Soon, it would be time to pay the Carrow Twins, the Greengrass girls and the Viking a visit.

"Pansy?" Harry suddenly asked, stealing her away from her thoughts as she looked over at him.

"Hmm?" she responded lazily, with both brows raised.

Harry looked hesitant, his confidence fleeting, but he swallowed and after doing so, sat up straighter in his seat. "There's another Hogsmeade trip in the first week of November… do you think we could go again?"

I shouldn't get greedy, but what's life without greed?

"I suppose I could allow you to take me out again," Pansy head after she let silence fester for ten, possibly even fifteen seconds whilst Harry waited with an increasingly unsure look growing on his face.

When that positive answer reached his ears, he grinned from ear to ear and hugged her. It was sudden, surprising, shocking… and then warm, comforting, and enjoyable. She allowed him the embrace free from any jabs; he was a very lucky boy, though that was on par with his moniker.

October 19, 1994

"You know, this is the second time you've been late, right?" Pansy asked with her arms folded when Potter entered the room.

Potter smiled disarmingly at her, likely in the hopes that it would get him off of any serious words with her. "I had something to take care of, and I'm one minute late this time, that's not as horrible as the two minutes last time, right?"

She sniffed in response to his words. "It's better, I suppose," she eventually said before she nodded towards the door. "Close it and lock it. We don't need anybody else coming in and finding us in here. I still can't believe the Prophet didn't run an article and nobody's grown wise about us."

"I mean, we do meet in empty classrooms, and save for Astronomy, we're never seen together. It can't be that surprising, right?" Harry asked as he tossed aside his satchel, letting it land on a desk before he moved towards his usual seat near her, and near the fireplace; the latter was the reason Pansy had picked the spot they'd sit at.

Pansy pulled a face but ultimately moved to the next topic as he got comfortable right beside her. "Did you bring it?"

"Of course," Harry said immediately.

"It's in your satchel, isn't it?" Pansy asked, this time withholding a snort lest Harry hears it.

"Oh," was his very elaborate and wordsy response as he fished out his wand and summoned the bag he'd only just thrown atop a table. "I guess I should have remembered that."

Pansy shook her head and patted him on the shoulder, earning a smile from Harry that she returned in a beautiful fashion… because it was from her, and everything she did, was beautiful. "I didn't think you'd seriously want to spend more time with me after our typical 'accidental' encounters and Astronomy. Maybe I was right a week ago when I said Gryffindor's star has a fascination with Snake girls."

At that, Harry scoffed and looked away from her, waving his hand. It wasn't lost on Pansy that he didn't refuse her claim. Even a few seconds later, when he turned back to set the item on the table, he remained silent and red-faced. It confirmed, again, what she had already begun to suspect; he fancied her far more than she had initially thought.

"Here," he said in a tone that was quieter than was typical of him.

Pansy nearly teased him. Nearly. Instead, she scooched as close as they could get without their knees touching, and for the first time, she began to aid him with Potions. It was a subject that he struggled with on account of Professor Snape — the man often picked on Harry, and whilst she had liked it, loved it, earlier, it made her strangely uncomfortable and on edge whensoever they had to attend Potions now.

There was little she could do, obviously, but for once, she wished she could have the Professor truly teach Harry. He wanted to learn. Pansy, great as she was, would teach him.

The toll, well, she wouldn't tell Harry about that until after their first session together. He had to learn sooner rather than later that everything had a price, and who better to learn that lesson with, than her?

I'll have him kiss my cheeks, I think. Yes, that'd be thoroughly embarrassing for him and very gratifying for me. I'd just have to close my eyes and…

Pansy took in a deep breath, willed away the thoughts that had begun to overtake her, and focused on Harry's studying.

It would be a long evening.

Chapter Text

October 30, 1994

Pansy, a few of her friends, and a large portion of Slytherin were all standing together when the Professors urged them out to 'greet' the newest arrivals for the year. Obviously, between her familial connections and those from Slytherin, she knew that there would be visitors from across the channel that would be intent on attempting to win some level of glory or renown for their rather irrelevant schools.

Potter, his friends — Weasley and Granger predominantly — from Gryffindor and a mixture of the other houses were very close to her. She had chosen the edge of the Slytherin cluster with her companions following suit. She wanted to eavesdrop on Potter and his friends, was what she had told them. In truth, she wanted to speak with him at some point. He so often found himself in a spot of trouble, for a change, she wanted to get him away from such happenings. That was purely out of the goodness of her heart too, for she'd cultivated such a good bond with him that it would be a complete and utter waste if something happened to him. He was always finding trouble or creating it, and whilst Malfoy would say much of it was Harry's fault, he seemed to be a genuinely unlucky boy.

Well, that was until she had gotten involved in his life. Her friendship had granted him a new type of view on their world, and after he'd begun to learn their customs and history, he seemed more interested and more aware of everything. It was very poor that the Weasleys hadn't acted the part of proper ambassadors for Harry, though what could she expect from a family such as theirs? Nothing would still be far too much.

Pansy snorted and grimaced when she heard Ronald Weasley mention food before producing from his robe a few wrapped cupcakes. It was utterly disgusting and reminded her of Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's two trolls that seldom had one thought between them. At least Weasley didn't take up the entirety of a door and lacked the wits to move until ordered to by a far smaller boy that relied on his father's power.

She moved back when there was a commotion, and before her very eyes, a carriage pulled by horses landed. It did so at quite some speed too, and so fast and dangerous was it, she half thought the carriage wouldn't halt before it flattened the incredibly large groundskeeper. The thought wasn't a worrying one, the man, Hagrid, was so large that Pansy figured the horse would be the worse off of the pair should a collision have occurred.

Everyone waited when the carriage and the occupants therein did nothing. It was clear that it was enchanted. It had to be if a large portion of a school were to fit inside of it. Whosoever they were, they didn't seem to have a sense of time for Pansy had far better things to be doing than waiting for lackwits to exit a horribly-decorated carriage. That wasn't to mention the lateness of the second school either. With the urgency she and the others had been sent outside, she would have expected both schools to arrive within minutes, perhaps ten if she were feeling especially generous… and she wasn't.

Finally, the door opened loudly and what stepped out of the carriage was very surprising. It was no ordinary woman. Not by any stretch of one's imagination. She had to be a Half-Breed the same as the Groundskeeper was, only the woman was larger and actually seemed to have a hint of fashion, albeit foreign to Pansy's eyes and tastes. That woman's perfume was quite powerful too, for it took but a gust of wind to make Pansy and the girls alongside her, to wrinkle their noses; the French woman — for her accent gave her away — smelt of it so strongly, Pansy could have closed her eyes and imagined the giant beside her rather than ten or so meters away.

Leave it to the French to apply too much perfume or layer on their beauty charms.

Once the woman was far enough away from the entrance to the carriage, more began to follow after her while she spoke with the Headmaster and the Groundskeeper. One after another, girls a few years older than Pansy was, emerged dressed all in the same outfit. It was a soft blue that did little to flatter their varying hair colours or skin tones, and it lacked any sort of touch that the Hogwarts uniform and extras typically did. For once, Pansy was quite satisfied with the Hogwarts uniform.

Towards the back of the group, perhaps twenty or so girls later, emerged a group of five or so that seemed to turn the male population, by and large, stupid. They were all blonde-haired and pale-skinned, she suspected a couple had freckles but couldn't verify by the distance. Their figures were full, their hair was… fine and they smiled so widely, so perfectly, that Pansy figured they were her equals.

"Veela," one of the girls nearest to her said, and suddenly, it all made sense. Pansy was cross with herself that she hadn't deduced it in the first place. Their 'perfection' was made by magic, not through selective breeding such as her and the Purebloods her house often favoured. It was no wonder the men seemed silent too, for the aura for lack of a better term that the Veela creatures gave off was meant to seduce them. Many called them homewreckers or thieves, though, in Pansy's mind, she would grant the Veela that what one did shouldn't reflect across the entirety of their species; some Half-Breeds could be alright.

Harry, she thought, and suddenly her opinions of them were threatened with the potential of going inherently negative. She had worked on and fostered their friendship for so long, and he'd even gone so far as to speak with her mother at the Quidditch match with the Irish and the Krums. It wasn't often that she would allow or offer to any of her friends to meet and speak with her family.

After a bit of moving around in a way that shouldn't draw too much attention, Pansy finally found her targ— Harr— friend. He was looking at the Weasley boy he often hung out with and on his face was an expression of amusement and vaguely, concern. Granger seemed very annoyed. Pansy smiled when she noticed all of that; Harry was unaffected, Granger was bothered by Weasley's trance and Weasley proved to have weak willpower. In other words, all was right with the world.

Pansy blinked a few times in rapid succession when her attention went beyond the Gryffindors and to that of the lake, where a sort of streamline had formed atop the water's surface. It seemed like something was affecting it, and before she could deduce the reasoning, a great and large ship tore to the surface with all the splendour that one could imagine from a school that respected itself. At least they seemed to have a sense of style based on the ornate roughness of their means of transportation and the grand reveal of their arrival. The school of Frogs could learn from the other school.

"Come on," Pansy said as those from the second school began to disembark and the Professors of Hogwarts went over to greet them. "We can leave at this point, the Prefects have already begun to lead people back. It's not like any of them could be too important to know and we don't need to come off as overly eager. If they're interested in the greatest house, they'll join us for meals."

"We can't be the only ones that noticed our tables were extended in the Great Hall," Millicent added, nodding towards the Gryffindors who were already favouring the French students from… whatever school they hailed from.

"I doubt we are," Greengrass said, rolling her eyes before she brought out a mirror; the girl was always very focused on her appearance and not the least bit worried about what those outside of Slytherin thought of her. The boys especially tended to try and catch her for a date or what have you, but she always ignored them just as equally as she ignored most others. Pansy suspected she was bad at socialising and made up for it by focusing on her beauty and grades… if only she learned to talk down to people that were truly below her or bothersome.

Pansy chanced one last look over her shoulder at Harry, and when he failed to notice her, she rolled her eyes and continued forward with her companions. She's learned a bit that could aid him from Malfoy and his insufferable desire to earn respect by spilling secrets his father told him. She'll inform Potter if there's a chance that he'll find that information enlightening or cool, but later, in the evening. Her friendship with him might well be known by some, but she needn't flaunt it.

Potter continued to chat with those new students and his typical crowd of Gryffindor. It was something she hadn't suspected him to do, though she recognised it as a direct result of their friendship that she'd formed. In the past, he was so very introverted and seemed content to mingle with that small, select group of friends that he had formed when he should be expanding his circle of contacts. That was great for him, though it did annoy her the longer it went on for she didn't wish to spend the entirety of her evening waiting to catch him away from those that would look at her with annoyance or innate dislike. She couldn't help it if her beauty, wits and sharp tongue were too much for them to handle, could she?

Minutes continued to pass by until, by some stroke of good fortune, Harry noticed her when he rolled his neck. She took advantage of catching his eyes and motioned with her head for him to follow after her, and after a few seconds of him speaking with those still deep in conversation, he rose from his seat. Pansy left her loitering at the entrance and moved away, towards a far hallway where once he emerged from the entrance, she would still be visible so that he needn't guess where she'd gone off to.

He was very welcome for her consideration if she did say so herself… which she did, only internally.

A few seconds passed by, and Potter did as she suspected. He emerged from the entrance and looked around, his gaze settling on her. There was a smile that was on his face too, and when he spotted her, she swore it grew in size as he ignored those that were still around and moved towards her with haste. His steps seemed eager and his expression was very delighted, and as he reached her, she turned around the corner and stepped into a doorway that she'd already opened; it was another of those abandoned classrooms from a time long past when Hogwarts was truly filled with students.

Harry stepped around and with a noise she forced, he entered without so much as a second of hesitation — Pansy made sure to close the door and lock it after he did so. Privacy was often something that was hard-earned at Hogwarts, and so she went the extra kilometre by way of utilising a prior privacy ward over the room. The last thing she needed was a jealous Malfoy or one of his goons interrupting their conversation and learning that she was feeding him information to further their relationship. They wouldn't care, not Malfoy nor those that followed him if she was attempting to build contacts all throughout the school. No, all of them were set in their hatred for Harry Potter on account of their parents' opinions and that told Pansy all she needed to know… perhaps she'd only needed a bit of a push from her Carrow Cousins to truly accept her new degree of independence.

"Hi, Pansy," Harry said as he practically fell into one of the chairs very near to her.

"Harry," she greeted. "I saw you were getting on well with the French students. Are there any that seem worth knowing?"

"Everybody's worth knowing," he answered with a shrug and in a tone that was very honest. It was cute, both his words and his honesty. She doubted he could tell so much as one convincing lie.

She didn't say that out loud. Instead, she made a noise that couldn't be considered too stuck in disagreement and spoke again. "Those from Durmstrang were quite interesting. They have a class where you can study the Dark Arts themselves rather than only defending against them — if only Hogwarts had the same. I believe everybody would be far less likely to start fights or shy away from those that know how to do so. Anyhow, enough of the schools and the members that came from them. Have you learned why they're here?"

"People keep talking about a tournament, 'Mione's recited a bit about it too, but she doesn't seem too fond of it and she's said we'll be fine. Why? Do you know something about these other schools or more about the tournament?"

Pansy raised her nose and smiled, and in return, Harry frowned at her. They stayed looking at one another for a few moments, neither changing their expression until, in sync, they laughed. It was strangely enlightening, and it made the moment all the sweeter when Pansy understood she didn't need to act as she did with any of the others she called 'friends'. Not with Harry. He was happy to get to know how she was sans any of her personas that she would put on when in the presence of adults or her peers from Slytherin.

"I know they're both premiere schools from their regions, that they've each competed in these events before, and that they'll each be trying to return home victorious regardless of the dangers the tournament might present. I've also learned it will be lessened, to some extent. The danger, that is. I'm unsure of how they'll manage it without making the tournament lose the renown it carries, but they'll do it somehow," Pansy sighed and lounged comfortably in her seat. "You might just manage to stay out of trouble for a change."

Harry scoffed at her and shook his head, a smirk on his face. "I don't think I'll manage that. Trouble finds me, I just give it a challenge is all."

"I'm sure," Pansy agreed, rolling her eyes.

For the remainder of their time together, they were content to speak about whatever drew their collective fancy. It could be more questions and answers in relation to the Magical Society, for Harry was incredibly inquisitive, or about topics as mundane as their classes together. They would have a bit of a modified schedule this year, and Pansy would go so far as to say they would spend a larger deal of their time with one another. Harry was a good conversationalist when she plucked him from his shell, and now she would be hard-pressed to disengage her friendship with him. He was truly a very interesting, mannered and with her help, cultured person.

October 31, 1994

Harry had somehow managed to find, create or otherwise draw forward some form of trouble. Pansy wasn't sure how he managed it, but he had, and that was why she was waiting for him. She knew the route he typically took, and she was considerate and smart enough to know why he disliked the thirty-first of October before his name had been plucked from that infernal Goblet. Ever since he and the other three Champions had gone through the door, she'd been waiting for him.

There hadn't been a commotion, and he hadn't been brought out, and in her mind, both were good signs. She would attempt to see how he was doing when he finally did withdraw from the room for the evening, and if need be, she would try and alleviate some of his stress by way of conversation and her offer of assistance. It was true that she wasn't among the top students, but she was no slouch or stupid bint, and she would aid him in return for nothing but his continued friendship; they were already partners in nearly every class this year, what was a little bit of extra time together?

It wouldn't even be cause for suspicion thanks to the interference of that Professor Sinistra and likely the words she'd shared with her fellow Professors. The woman was very bothersome, but fortunately, also very stupid. Harry wasn't somebody she loathed or hated, she had never truly hated him, but only disliked him, and now especially, that couldn't be farther from the truth. She would even say she considered him beyond that of a typical friend, though she wasn't certain if he would say the same, and no, that didn't imply romance-like qualities.

"Pansy?"

She grabbed for her heart and wand both, and she jumped. Potter was right in front of her, looking at her curiously, but his expression wasn't so well hidden that she couldn't manage to see what else was coursing through that interesting mind of his. He was worried, stressed out, and seemed quite crestfallen. The reasons weren't entirely beyond her. She had seen the looks the masses had been giving him, likely assuming that he had submitted his name at some point or had another student do so for him; the Weasley Twins had tried and failed, and so she wasn't sure how Harry would succeed with how fast rumours got around the school.

"Don't sneak up on a girl like that," she said, her tone lacking any edge to it. Typically, he would have really been chastised, but she didn't have it in her. He already looked wound up and the other emotions on his face earned him her empathy.

"Sorry — you alright?"

Pansy brushed off his concern and parroted his question back to him. "Are you?"

"I didn't manage to say out of trouble, evidently. I don't think there was any chance of that from the start of the year. Unfortunate, that, isn't it?" Harry tried to make light of it, and after a quick glance around, Pansy grabbed his hand and pulled him away from where he'd been. There wasn't any reason to linger when the other selectees would be around, or Professors… or possibly that annoying child with the Muggle contraption.

"I suppose it can't be helped, can it?" Pansy urged him on, quickening their pace as they moved further away. "You can rely on me if necessary. I've finally grown to no longer despise you, and so it'd be a shame if anything happened that sent you into poor health… assuming you're going to compete?"

That was her way of inquiring without asking if he was truly going to take part in the tournament. Obviously, she hoped he would not, for the history of it was well known to any Pureblood. Many hoped they would get the chance to compete for glory, some for the wealth and others, simply to prove their name still deserved respect; Pansy didn't care for any of that.

"I'm going to compete — Dumbledore said it was magically binding, that there isn't a way out for me. If I don't, well, it wouldn't go very well is what I gathered. Thank you, by the way," Harry smiled at her when he said that and his thumb glanced along the back of her hand, causing that familiar, irksome feeling to pool in the pit of her stomach. She did so hate it.

"For?"

He snorted. "For offering to help. I saw the looks people were sending me, and I reckon I'll lose a lot of support just like our second year all over again. That'll be wicked, I remember how long it took for people to think I wasn't the heir of Slytherin."

"They can all have their wands broken and their magic sealed for all I care," Pansy said as she lofted her nose in the air. "You needn't concern yourself with the opinions of those unworthy of your attention in the first place. You're from a strong, important and historically powerful family. I've aided you in learning about our customs and so the vast majority needn't matter and our peers don't either. We're still in Hogwarts, and so most of what they do is posturing in the first place. None of us truly have any power, our parents have more, but it's our grandparents and great-grandparents that need impressing."

"Oh, well when you put it like that," Harry said, rolling his eyes even as his face brightened a bit.

"You're welcome," Pansy answered.

"Thanks," was his sarcastic response.

She smiled. Even if he had gone along unknowingly, she'd ripped a 'thank you' out of him. His bad mood was mostly dealt with as they walked along the back halls seldom used by their peers and Professors alike, and all the while, they enjoyed one another's company. It was yet another queer example of how well they could get along despite their differences and earlier… difficulties.

None of that meant she would thank Professor Sinister Aurora, and as for her cousins, the Carrow Twins, she imagined they thought of her more as a project or source of amusement than anything else. Ah well, so long as she expanded her friendships and continued her path with Potter, that was alright.

He truly was a… interesting person.

November 15, 1994

Pansy set down the copy of the Prophet she'd read with a scowl. There was, of course, the typical tabloid journalism injected by the vast majority of their writers, chief amongst them one Rita Skeeter who always took words out of context. Fleur's interview — the Frenchie — was rife with jabs at the girl, as Pansy had suspected. Krum and Cedric were meant as pieces to appease and feed into their appeal to the witches that read it, but Harry's lacked that angle.

Instead and apparently, there was a witch that he 'fancied' and wished to 'impress' though Pansy doubted he used either word in the presence of Skeeter or her followers. If Pansy were to guess, most of what he'd said had been ignored or taken out of context, and the woman likely didn't care. As she recalled, her Father had used her before, as had Draco's, to push forward pieces to the public without having their names attached. She would do anything for a few hundred galleons.

Oh yes, Pansy was quite aware of the rumours and after the slanderous piece about Harry, very willing to spread them if the woman didn't cease her incessant yowling.

Still, if there was a chance that Harry fancied a witch, Pansy would seek him out so that she might learn the truth. Every wizard fancied a witch, and most witches fancied a wizard, and so it would aid Pansy if she could figure out who Potter favoured… for her own reasons. It was always beneficial to know that type of information, yes, and it wasn't for her to see how she matched up against her potential competition if she decided to commit to Potter over Malfoy.

Not in the slightest.

Again, she felt that sensation pool in her stomach. It was greater and filled with a sense of anger that in and of itself made her angry. There was no reason to grow annoyed at the possibility of Potter preferring another witch. Malfoy remained the better match in an economic and political power comparison even if the public was indifferent or angry with the Malfoy name.

Tracey would say that 'the heart wants what the heart wants… go get your wizard' but Tracey also enjoys her tabloid shenanigans.

Pansy sighed and nearly hit her head against the wall before her. There was no reason this should irk her half as much as it currently was, and yet, here she found herself before a mirror, looking for imperfections after she'd reread the piece about Potter and a potential witch of his dreams.

"I'll seek the truth from his own lips," she said aloud quietly, content with that answer; he couldn't lie in any passable form, after all.

"You talking to yourself again?" Tracey asked, the girl lounging lazily atop the covers of her bed.

In response to that and with her answer in mind, Pansy raised her nose, scoffed at the other girl and steeled herself to seek Harry out for a small conversation. She would have to be careful and not press him, and at the same time, they would have to continue their secretive meetings when they weren't required for class projects. Undue suspicions from their peers would complicate everything.

Pansy had just the idea.

November 21, 1994

It hadn't gone according to plan. Pansy was dressed up casually, but beautifully, and her hair was done nicely with jewellery adorning her in a fashion she considered light but extravagant. In truth, nothing could make her seem ugly or lacklustre, least of all in comparison to the typical mundane witches that filled Hogwarts. She was of aristocratic stock that couldn't be bred in a few generations, least of all with Muggle blood intermingled.

No, she was of a noble quality… but Morgana, it was so very difficult to be content with oneself after a surprise meeting that was also meant to be kept very secretive. 'Date' was a strong word, though perhaps it wasn't too far off considering Potter had somehow talked himself into a Hogsmeade trip. Then again, if word somehow reached Draco, perhaps it would prompt him into changing and letting go of his juvenile fascinations.

She snorted. She very much doubted that. Boys were seldom that simple even if most wanted the same thing, as her mother often claimed.

"You know, we don't have to hide in some cruddy old classroom, right?"

Pansy jumped, whipped her wand out and all but hissed at Harry and his suddenness. "You're a prat," she said, annoyance lacing her tone as she looked accusingly at him.

"You weren't paying attention again, were you?" Harry laughed and looked around, the air in the room stale and old, though not nearly as old as Hogwarts itself; she'd even done a few rounds of charms to ensure the dust within didn't stick to her.

"Whilst I'm sure we don't need to hide, it's better for me if we do. Draco could be quite cross, and if he is, that would make my life exceedingly difficult… assuming it doesn't prompt a great change in him that would benefit us both," Pansy scoffed at the thought and pulled up her hood; she hoped the make-up and a few well-done glamour charms would aid her too. "Are we going, or are you going to stare at me like I'm the most beautiful witch that you've ever seen? Don't worry, I know it's true, you don't need to say it."

Harry rolled his eyes at her, shook his head and then motioned towards the door. "I'm here," he said to her. "We can continue sneaking about — you look very different than usual too… did you change your hair colour?"

Pansy nodded. "I adjusted the shade and lengthed it a bit. I'm not sure if you've noticed either, but my blush and mascara are done differently too. It was necessary so that others might not recognise me as soon as they see me. Perhaps they'll assume I'm some foreign witch. I don't mean to detract from you as a person, Harry, but as I said, it's better for the both of us if we manage to keep our friendship secretive."

"It's fine. I know it could be difficult for you and I'd prefer the new you to stay around a while longer. Malfoy's, well, he's Malfoy. I'm sure between you and me, we could guess just about everything he'd do and say. You're right too, I doubt the ruddy guy would change anything, he'd probably just throw a fit."

He most definitely would… though jealousy isn't too great a detraction. It can be rather appealing if it's the right boy. I wonder how Harry would react if I made him jealous. He's sweet.

She shook her head and admonished herself internally. Those thoughts weren't appropriate in the slightest, and so she would allow them to fester at a later time, when she could be alone and do her thinking without the boy of her thoughts standing directly before her, waiting for them to start their journey to Hogsmeade.

"We'll have a carriage to ourselves, I hope," she said suddenly, hoping he didn't notice the blush that was adorning her cheeks in a fashion that most definitely looked very beautiful. Especially when one considered the added blush she'd put on that morning; she was very good with anything that involved makeup or style, after all.

"Easy enough," Harry said with a grin. "Most everybody else is walking with people from other schools. I've seen it on the way here. Something about nature and spending time with them — you Slytherins seem to have taken to Durmstrang real well."

"They're agreeable, far more so than the frogs or the other three houses, save for yourself," Pansy wanted to smack herself when she added that last remark without the agreement from her brain. It had simply slipped through, and Harry's wide smile annoyed her as much as it dazzled her. Those feelings in her stomach chose that moment to return.

"I'm agreeable?"

"Don't push your luck, Potter."

Harry laughed one more time before they set out, their journey taking them to the wagons that would see them to Hogsmeade, and after that, Hogsmeade itself. It didn't take long, but the journey there was… enjoyable.

"It's a bit smaller than usual, isn't it?" Harry asked as he readjusted himself across from her. The carriage they were in, whilst very comfortable, seemed more intimate, ornate and well-done than the one that was typical of Hogwarts.

Pansy wasn't complaining. She was very used to the luxuries life had to offer and considering this was likely done as a result of the other carriage business being unable to ferry all who wished to ride rather than walk, the lack of payment on their behalf made it all the better. It was too bad for Hogwarts or whoever funded the coin for the expenses that they hadn't planned on a majority of the students taking a stroll near the path, where they could explore the surrounding lands of Hogwarts. If they had done so, they would have surely saved thousands upon thousands of galleons and perhaps saved themselves a dressing down. A mistake such as this surely warranted one.

"I don't mind it when it's nought but the two of us," she replied when she saw that Harry was looking at her expectantly. When she continued, she made sure to straighten her back and raise her nose if ever so slightly. She had put a lot of effort into appearing more favourable and appealing to his eyes — not that she needed to — and so it would be unbecoming of her and very lazy if she didn't attempt to keep that front up; by Morgana did her back hurt as a result. "You've not sat with those friends of yours recently. The Weasley and Granger… is trouble brewing between the three of you?"

Harry shifted at her question as she attempted to change the topic, lest he pushes on her initial remark. He became distinctly uncomfortable, and for a moment, she felt bad. His reaction assured her that something had happened, and whilst she would have enjoyed negative emotions from him previously, it made her feel uncomfortable, or awkward, perhaps a mixture of the two emotions that were very foreign and bothersome to feel on behalf of a person not related to her. Even when it came to Draco before she'd 'turned' on him, she enjoyed when he'd receive a letter that thoroughly put him in his place, or when he'd get detention for remarks regarding those he thought were below him. In truth, nobody was below Draco, least of all a majority of the other wizards. Many were on his level, but few could relate to Harry.

None were nearly as sweet, save for Cedric, perhaps, and the insufferable Hufflepuff boy was most assuredly not her type. She hated how outgoing, sweet and honest he was. In her eyes, he was like a puppy, such was the energy he gave off and the need to speak with every single person that seemed deeply ingrained in his personality. She nearly shivered.

"I don't know why," Harry finished, put out as he looked at her suddenly.

Pansy blinked at him, guilty that she'd missed what he'd said while she'd rattled on inwardly, too focused on her own thoughts that she'd missed out on his words. The ride was so smooth and the cushions so comfortable, it was very easy to lose yourself in your thoughts.

"They're bothered as the others are," Pansy guessed, recollecting the faces that even his two closest friends wore when he'd gone to step up as one of the 'Champions' of Hogwarts. "After all of the rumours, I would have thought they'd be the ones to act as your shields rather than the daggers that would be stuck in your back."

"Hermione won't do anything, she's just caught in the middle and I think she's like I was, you know before you ripped me out of a shell and started telling me the importance of the culture and so on. She's told me privately that she wants to help, that she still cares, but it's hard with Ron breathing down her neck and all of the others spreading false information about me and how I 'entered my name into the Goblet'," Harry scoffed and looked out of one of the open windows, admiring the view of the surrounding forest and meadows that had been clear cut from it long ago.

They passed a few other students that had decided to walk too, but Pansy didn't care in the slightest. She doubted she could even name them, for she'd not noticed their faces, only Harry's and how bothered he was by the treachery of his fellow Gryffindor housemates. In Slytherin, it wouldn't have happened. Despite what the other houses said of Slytherin when one was attacked, all would defend them, for they seldom had friendships outside of Slytherin and so the best way to ensure their safety, was as a collective despite the disagreements that happened behind closed doors. Most of them were family too, however distant that might be; most of the time, it was seldom past sixth cousins, though the heads of their houses often claimed that ensured purity, an ableness to breed and close ties so that in-fighting was limited lest one wanted to be named as a kin-slayer atop the title of a murderer.

"You shouldn't care what any of them think," Pansy said, shrugging nonchalantly. "I believe you didn't enter your name — you wouldn't go against me telling you to stay out of trouble, would you?"

He snorted and shook his head, a small upturn of his limits breaking through that glum demeanour of his. When she noticed it, she smiled too, albeit in a more smug, victorious and very beautiful fashion.

"See? I knew my trust was well placed when it came to you. And as I said, who cares what the idiotic masses might think of you? All it takes is one opinion piece and a great many of them will change their tunes when it comes to you. Perhaps one victory or good showing in the tournament could win them back as well, though you needn't have them return to your corner when they've proven as fickle as they already have. Good friends or trusted acquaintances or whatever else you might like to call them are very hard to come by, but once you do, they'll stick with you… I never thought I would say it, but perhaps — and that's a very strong perhaps, dolt — Granger might prove to be a very good friend to have so long as she doesn't go back on her word," Pansy finished with a sharp exhale, certain that her point had gotten through to Harry, and then she eyed his lap. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Mind what?" Harry asked, suddenly blinking at her with a very cute, confused look on his face; wizards were so very clueless, but she took that cluelessness not as a refusal, but as possible acceptance and did as she wished for what would be the remainder of their journey.

Pansy lifted her feet, settled them in his lap and sighed as she let her head recline against the padding behind her. With the fresh, flower-scented air, the ever-changing greenery as their smooth-riding carriage continued, and the softness of Harry's lap for her sore feet, she was in a state of bliss. It felt as if she had finally arrived to where her mother claimed she belonged; perhaps Harry truly would be a fine person to properly court.

She looked at him as he closed his eyes, seemingly tired. Happy that he couldn't see her, she scrutinised him closely. He had a rugged, wild and untamed handsome quality that her mother claimed his father once had. It was the reason many a witch had found him attractive, though he'd unfortunately dirtied his blood, as most would say.

Pansy? She didn't care for it. Her parents told her she was a princess from one of the greatest houses in history, and if she wished to have Harry for herself, she would do so. That, as of recently, was looking more and more like a very distinct possibility, albeit one that would come with a multitude of problems as a result.

She huffed. Her life was so very difficult.

Mother was right, I believe. Harry would make for an excellent husband, though he, like all men, would need some level of training. She could advise me, she claimed Father was very wild and untrained, but they're very happy and content even if Mother can't have any more children.

All of that thinking came after Harry had surprised her by taking her to a very recently-opened restaurant that was rife with foreign cuisine for their guests. Initially, she had been apprehensive, to say the least, but his choices with assistance from the staff had done much to change her mind when it came to the food their guests ate. It was well known that the French especially used far too much garlic in their cooking, though their various types of breads and cheeses, and above all, their desserts were very well-crafted. She was no aficionado of food, not in any regard, but she'd had more than what the average person likely ever would, and as a result, she did believe that gave her the right to grade the many restaurants that were lucky enough to service her and whosoever she went with.

It was at the very end of that meal that she gave the waiter and his staff a tip too, as her family had taught her. Harry had covered the entirety of the bill, which in and of itself thoroughly impressed her when one took into account his lack of funds that his family could throw at him. The tip was something that she insisted on despite him attempting to do so, and she had to talk him down and go so far as to kiss him on both cheeks for him to relent… perhaps the two kisses weren't strictly necessary, but it made him smile goofily and allowed her to do as she wished. There was a chance, a very small one, that she might have enjoyed the action and the resulting expression that settled on his face too, though that was strictly off the record.

"Where to next, Harry?" she inquired as they stepped out from the cosy heat of the restaurant and into the crisp air of the outdoors. There was a dark overcast that promised a storm, though she doubted it would arrive whilst they remained on their date — or rather, their day out together as friends. It wasn't properly a date until he asked her Father for the right of courtship, as manners dictated.

Then again, perhaps he had privately, as many suitors did. It was hard to tell with Harry.

"I actually have a bit of a journey to go on soon… would you want to go with me?" he seemed tentative, and based on how he'd looked as he spoke, he almost looked as if he didn't want to say it, such was the level of hesitance he'd had.

That alone thoroughly piqued Pansy's interest. It wasn't often that something mysterious would happen, and so when something mysterious did occur, she most definitely wished to be in on it. The fact that it involved Harry, a boy she was most definitely by now developing a minor fancy for, simply sweetened the deal. There was no way that she could say no to him.

"I would be very interested," she said, glancing around the area. "Where will we be headed and how are we going? Is it safe to presume we'll have to be careful? A journey does imply we'll not remain strictly where we're supposed to be and your expression was very easy to read."

"I didn't look that guilty," he scoffed, shaking his head as he nodded back whence they'd come from when they'd first arrived at Hogsmeade.

Pansy, in response, hummed at him. He was well within his rights to think what he wished to despite the fact that he was most assuredly incorrect. It wasn't his fault, no Gryffindor was any good at keeping secrets, and neither were many members of Hufflepuff. They didn't have so much as one deceitful bone in their bodies… collectively.

"I'll say a bit more in the carriage, yeah? When we're away from anybody that might be listening in on us," Harry said when she gave him a look that said she wished for more information.

When he said as much, she blinked at him, taken aback by his caution and forward-thinking. The him of the past would have snapped at her, and later, brushed her off, though that was discounting the fact that they wouldn't have shared so much as one word previously. That wasn't entirely her fault either. If he fancied her any, he could have approached her despite how intimidating her beauty and family name might be; too many wizards were far too scared around witches they wished to marry.

"You've changed," Pansy settled on saying, smiling at him in a way that conveyed her pride and hopefully showed that she was impressed. It was very well deserved and made her wish to act upon her troublesome, wonderful feelings all the more.

"You've helped, and you've changed too," he shot back at her, his eyes glancing at how close they were and the smile on her face.

He probably would have never seen her smile if they weren't forced together nearly the same time the Carrow Twins had encouraged her to spend time with him. It was two very convenient happenings that she somehow doubted were entirely convenient. There had to be some level of meddling from the Professor or her Cousins, perhaps both parties.

"I suppose I have," she agreed, and so they continued their journey in silence, whereupon reaching their carriage he would eventually tell to her his plan and invite her to where that journey would take him. Her surprise was very evident, she imagined, and the scandal that followed in her mind had to be equally as evident.

"We'll have to hug if we're to fit under that, you're aware of that, aren't you?" Pansy asked, her hands on her hips as they stood in the dark treeline, the occasional odd sound emanating from the woods.

"I did tell you it'd be a bit of a tight fit," Harry answered honestly, shrugging. "If it's too big a problem, I can go alone. I don't wan—"

Pansy's eyes widened and she shook her head, thoroughly against that idea. She was about to see a side of Potter that she would greatly enjoy. There was very little chance she'd get to see him break the rules often and less chance that she'd be able to spy on what would soon happen for the tournament and its various tasks. He wasn't ugly, nor did he smell disgusting. Surely she could handle being pressed again him for some number of minutes so they could spy on his first task together.

Hagrid, the Groundskeeper that she might not have thought all that fondly of before, was helping him too. Perhaps not every Half-Breed was abhorrent, some could, apparently, be quite nice to those that deserved it. She would be sure to tell her family, though not the details therein. Harry would be very upset if something happened to the man based on how much he respected and spoke of him.

"Quickly," Harry said, urging her under the cloak that was already partially on him as they heard something loud crashing through the forest ahead. It had to be a creature or Hagrid, either was large and not all that able of being quiet; Pansy remembered the man's attempts at flirting with the giantess.

She dove under the cloak — beautifully — at Harry's urge and only just managed to stifle a giggle at the memory before, a few seconds later, the man emerged a few feet ahead of them with a shifty, vaguely nervous look on his face. He spoke with Harry, and before too long, Harry too was under the cloak, pressed into her and together, they followed after the man. As they did so, the noises ahead grew louder and louder, until they came to a bit of clearing that showed just what was causing the sounds.

Dragons. Cages of dragons with wizards running amuck, some of them worrying and hollering as the creatures tried their best to escape their small cells. Hagrid and Harry exchanged words again, but that didn't last very long. The Giantess intruded, Hagrid spoke with her and moved a bit away, ensuring Harry could do as he pleased, and together, he and Pansy did just that.

"Dragons," he said in a voice that was nearly imperceivable, his breath softly splashing against her neck in a fashion that made her feel… odd.

"We can find a spell or tome that handles them," Pansy assured him, confident they could do just that. "I'm certain of it."

She mostly was certain of that fact. Still, she had to try and alleviate some of the tension or stress that he was feeling. If she didn't he might very well go mad, and she did still prefer Harry amongst the world of the living rather than the dead or seriously insane that were written off at Saint Mungo's.

Perhaps Granger could be guided towards a few well-placed books that would be 'stolen' from the Slytherin library. It wasn't too far-fetched of an idea.

"You think so?" Harry asked, moving back ever so slightly when one of the dragons roared and the many wizards and witches began fleeing, a sea of flames splashing against a barrier; a barrier that looked hard-pressed to contain the dragon's fiery breath.

"I'm very confident that we'll be able to find something to counter-act a dragon, yes, if that's what you mean. Wizards have been hunting them since the dawn of time, for those who successfully kill or tame such beasts are showered with renown and take for themselves riches beyond measure," Pansy looked at him, the closeness no longer nearly as awkward as it had first been on account of the fiery doom before them. Dragons did seem a very effective tool to get over one's worries. "You could blind it, clog its nose or ears, shred its wings… the possibilities so long as you're powerful and proficient are nearly endless."

"That'd wound the dragon, maybe even cripple it, wouldn't it?" Harry asked, his tone slightly louder and decidedly sour-sounding at the prospect of doing so. She hadn't forgotten the extent of his kindness, but when it came to him or the dragon, she was surprised he could still be so compassionate.

Pansy shrugged. She wasn't very worried about any lasting effects on the dragon. It was a creature, not a magical being such as Harry; the beasts were magnificent and beautiful, but Harry's life mattered more to her. If she had to pick one of the two to walk away unharmed whilst both would remain alive, the choice was most definitely an easy one to make.

"I want to find a way around that. Maiming a dragon would be a last resort, I'd rather leave it without lasting damage if I could," he sighed, took on a contemplative quality, and then nodded towards whence they'd come. Hagrid was already gone with the giantess from France, which meant they could very well find their own way to Hogwarts sans the large man's company.

"If you say so, I believe I'd prefer you unharmed," Pansy raised her hands when he looked at her. "No. You're not growing on me before you say it — you're simply a good partner to have in a majority of our shared classes, and I'd much prefer to keep you instead of finding somebody like Weasley or some other Gryffindor imbecile. You're the best of the worst, that's it."

Harry didn't say anything, but his smug smile and the look on his face as they walked the rest of the way back told Pansy that he saw straight through her hasty attempt at covering up what she meant. Potter could be very perceptive and intelligent when he wished to be, and it had taken her quite some time to figure that out.

By Morgana, she was really starting to know him.

November 23, 1994

"Granger's here," Pansy stated when she entered the room Harry had told her to meet in.

He hadn't mentioned that Granger would be present. They were meant to keep to themselves and possibly, if the situation ever called for it, the Carrow Twins since they had urged the friendship that was flourishing between Harry and Pansy. Those two were very smart and exceptionally stealthy… there was also the benefit that the pair were willing to do much and more if the need arose. Some of their actions would be frowned upon heavily, but it was always best to have those people on your side instead of against you.

"I am," Granger answered for herself before Harry could speak, her eyes sizing Pansy up, narrowed as they were. "And so are you, Parkinson. Is there a reason, or were you here to do something?"

"Before either of you pull your wands — Hermione, I asked Pansy to come and Pansy, Hermione won't say anything. I trust her more than anybody else in Gryffindor, and I figured I would need the extra help. I wasn't sure if you'd have the time either, I've seen how Malfoy's been more eager this year… you don't have one of those buttons either. Is that smart?" Harry's tone was gentle as he looked between the two witches, but when his eyes settled on her chest where the aforementioned button should be, she stood up straighter; his attention naturally went to the more beautiful of the two, and she had to preen in satisfaction.

It had to annoy Granger beyond belief that he focused on her.

"Of course, I wouldn't wear one of those infernal buttons. The design is simply atrocious, or so that's what I told Draco and he didn't question it. I'm not the only witch that's against it, others truly dislike the clash of style, and I imagine some of your companions haven't worn them either," Pansy looked at Granger then, the other girl's eyes still narrowed but she was calmer after Harry's words. It was clear that she still didn't trust, or like Pansy. It would be hard to, considering they were rivals far more so than Harry and she had ever been. "As you can see, Granger, I'm here to assist Harry. I've smuggled books from our private library, and I'd like them back when he's finished with them."

"Why are you helping?"

Pansy fought the urge to sneer at the other girl. It was a stupid question from one that claimed to be the brightest witch of their age. "Harry is my partner through a myriad of classes, and as you can likely deduce, we've built a relationship with that as the foundation. I've never truly despised him, that was always Draco's joy. He's kind, well-mannered and now, fairly cultured — don't let that go to your head, Harry. There's still much left for you to learn."

Despite her words, he grinned at her for all of a few seconds before that turned into a wide, full-blown smile. It wasn't often that she complimented him verbally, and so she suspected he'd be basking in that for quite some time.

"You never mentioned a friendship with… Pansy, Harry," Granger said, a brow raised as she looked closely at him; perhaps attempting to see if he were under the effects of a potion or spell.

"It was better for her to keep it quiet," he said with a shrug before he motioned her over to a seat very close to his. Enough so that she imagined their knees would be touching. "Come on, let's start. The task is tomorrow and I'd like to get these charms going if we can."

Pansy looked at Granger, huffed, and moved past the other girl. She could suffer the know-it-all's presence if it were for Harry. He was a very fortunate, spoiled wizard.

Chapter Text

November 24, 1994

Pansy huffed.

Today was the day Harry would face his first task. She wasn't fond of the idea, after all that she'd read about previous tournaments and the revelation of what his task was, there was no small amount of worry that formed in the pit of her stomach. Since she'd risen that morning, she'd had that sinking feeling.

He was Harry. She'd heard from him, from Granger, and from others all that he'd done. Some of it, she'd seen herself… but he'd come out alright, wouldn't he?

She folded her arms.

If he messed up and wound up hurt, she'd be very cross with him. Mother would too, given she'd already decided it was he that'd be her future son-in-law. Pansy had agreed, obviously. There was nobody better for him than her.

Who else knew how to run a house as old and storied as his, but a witch like her? Who else could teach him all that she could?

Pansy raised her nose in the air knowing that she was the best possible wife he could have. If she knew it, he certainly did as well, didn't he?

She chewed her bottom lip, worried. Not about what he saw her as — she knew she'd get him — no, she was, once again, beside herself that something might happen to him.

Mayhaps she could have Mother use her connections. Surely she could do for him what the Groundskeeper had, and inform her so that she could inform Harry what the future held. That seemed simple enough, and it would see his safety guaranteed. Others would disapprove, perhaps even Harry himself would if he knew she was using her parents resources to further his chances of winning, but to her, winning was secondary.

Tertiary, even.

First and foremost, was his safety. She couldn't plot to have him be hers in perpetuity if that perpetuity bit didn't get to occur. Second, was ensuring he learned all that was necessary, and more; laws, ancient traditions, rites, and even information regarding the Wizengamot.

Pansy, content and calm now, looked at herself in her hand mirror to ensure the quality of her cosmetic charms, and the products she'd used after applying them. As one might expect, her natural beauty was only enhanced by the magic and items she'd used, enough so that most would do what she asked if she but shot them a smile.

But 'most' was not who she'd done herself up so prettily for.

"Off to Potter, Parkinson?" Greengrass' voice came from her flank, as she and her companion — Tracey — had finished washing.

"Don't you mean Parkinson-for-now?" Tracey let out a squeal, and raced away from Greengrass, to Pansy's side. Without pausing or asking for permission, she grabbed up her hands and held them with her own. "You're gonna watch Potter today, right? We can all sit together, and you can tell us all ab—"

Greengrass, who'd come forth with long, confident strides, pulled Tracey away from Pansy and fixed her with a look. A moment later, she turned her attention from her friend, to Pansy herself.

"Tracey's very eager to hear all about your love life. You remind her of far too many of those books she's read," Greengrass gave a nod to the exit of their dorm room. "Will you join us for the walk down?"

"Until we reach the Champions tent. I would bid Harry good luck before he goes off to face whatever it is that he'll be facing," Pansy couldn't let slip that they'd known what he'd face, and had prepared accordingly.

"Aww. Can we watch?" Tracey held her hands together in a pleading fashion after posing her question.

Pansy, for her part, shrugged. "So long as you don't interfere, fine."

"Tracey and interference are synonymous." Greengrass folded her arms. "At least Potter's, Potter. With the Weasleys, especially Ronald, he'll likely not mind her all that much."

"He's made no mention of anybody else, so perhaps you're right," Pansy had an idea then. One that would aid Harry and her both. "Why don't you visit when next we have a break? You and Tracey both could join Harry and I for a day."

"Sans the presence of Granger and Weasley?" Greengrass didn't dislike the Weasleys as much as most. Her ire was aimed at Granger on account of the competition she provided in all of their classes.

There could only be one best, the rest would be exactly that.

"Naturally." Pansy and the other two girls took their leave from the Common Room. "You'll get to know him, and he'll get to know you. A mutual exchange and gesture of friendship, for Post-Hogwarts."

"We'll visit upon your word." Greengrass was quick to snatch up the opportunity, and Pansy, she was already thinking about what a partnership with her would entail; there was much to gain if she, Harry and Greengrass worked together.

Pansy shot a look at Tracey as the Champions tent grew near enough for those around it to be made out in detail. There were a few of the Ministry workers and those involved in the general management of the tournament in the surrounding area, but there was no sign of Harry, nor any of the other Champions thus far.

"It begins in half an hour," Greengrass said, her eyes scanning the myriad of people moving all about the nearby grounds of Hogwarts. Many were already in a race to get the 'best' seat in the house; those that were smarter already had places reserved via familial connections.

"I wonder where your Harry is." Tracey looked around the place, and huffed when she failed to notice him. "He should've been here with flowers, and then he should've swept you off yo—"

"Thank you, Tracey," Greengrass was quick to cut her friend off, and with a tinge of pink upon her cheeks. With a hand holding one of Tracey's, she pulled her away from Pansy's side, and in the direction of the stands. "I'll go and secure our seats. Wish him good luck from us — it's only the whole school and contingents of two others watching. And the Ministry officials and reporters too, of course."

"Of course." Pansy watched the pair leave, or rather, as she stood there looking on, she saw Daphne dragging a pouting Tracey until they were out of her line of sight. Once the pair were far enough away, she began to wring her hands before her, and as before, she chewed at her bottom lip.

Where was he?

Harry should've been visible already.

She looked around again, and failing to spot him, Granger or even Weasley — despite their disagreement as of late — she started towards the tent. There was a chance he'd arrived well-early, and if he had, she'd simply slip in without issue. Should anybody even see her, lest they were a Professor of Hogwarts, she'd leverage her name and the political power of her family to leave unaccosted and after she'd spoken with Harry.

Not even Dumbledore himself would stop her from wishing him good fortune, and from ordering him to be safe.

A loss was fine so long as it meant he lived.

Pansy, with little issue save for a Hufflepuff cutting her off, reached the back of the tent. There was relative silence therein, but she imagined it could be enchanted so as to prevent errant journalists from eavesdropping.

She looked around, ensuring none were minding her much attention, and then she disillusioned herself. After nobody yelled or called out to ask what she was doing, she peeked her head in through an opening in the tent, and took a glance around. As one might expect, it was enchanted, the space larger than most others with a multitude of rooms and even steps between them.

Krum, the Durmstrang boy, was present and pacing back and forth. He seemed nervous, or eager. She couldn't determine which it was, and she didn't care — he wasn't Harry, and Harry was all that she cared for. Not even Diggory deserved an ounce of her worry, and certainly not the Veela.

Even now, Pansy still wasn't too happy that the French girl could share a tent with Harry. She'd heard many times over how dangerous Veela were to relationships… but then again, Harry had assured her he'd be fine. He'd also seemed able to keep his wits about him when she was nearby.

Even now, that made her proud, and happy.

And thinking of him as she was, magic seemed to make him appear.

For there he was, just walking from some side-room to the steps that led thereto. He sat down atop them, and leaned back, using the staircase as a backrest.

Without waiting to see if anybody else was present, Pansy pushed through the space and whispered for him to approach. She had to call out his name thrice over, but eventually, he realised he wasn't going mad, and looked her way.

"Pansy?" Harry sounded a touch tired.

She did away with her disillusionment charm, and, with a hand, gestured for him to come closer. With others present, it was best not to speak on the off chance one of them cared far too much; she was never fond of those that'd tattle when nothing negative occurred. They were amongst the most annoying people in the world.

Harry smiled her way, rose with a quickness he'd not sat down with, and followed after her as she delved back, into one of those 'side-rooms' that were more an alcove, upon closer examination.

As soon as he was close enough to speak quietly, as she desired, he did so with that same smile on his face. "You're here." It wasn't a question, more an exclamation. One that seemed to surprise him.

Pansy arched a perfect, sharp brow at him, and folded her arms. "Naturally. Did you think I'd not wish you well the day of?" Without waiting for him to respond, she made a noise, as if she only just remembered she had something on her person that was meant for him. Thereafter, she made a show of pulling it out of her robes before she gestured for him to extend a hand.

"What is it?" Harry asked as he did what she desired, and extended one hand, palm facing upwards.

"A memento of good fortune," She answered. "It wouldn't do if you were hurt, so I thought I'd do as witches have oft done, and present you with my favour. Tie it around your arm, store it in your pocket — do with it what you desire, so long as it's with you."

Finished with her words, she presented the little bolt of fabric. It'd been stitched with her wandwork, and had a small bit of enchantment worked into it that would show a snake striking out whenever one was near enough to see. Her name was stitched in the bottom left as well, as was a small, green heart, courtesy of Tracey.

Pansy had thought the little addition cute, and perhaps it'd provide him with a push too, should he take note of it.

"Tie it around my arm for me?"

That question of his very nearly earned a snort, but Pansy withheld it, and instead, grabbed the arm he'd gestured to. "You're lucky I'm so pleasant a witch."

"I am." Harry then spoke again, and said the most positively-Gryffindor set of words she'd ever heard. "Could I have a kiss on the cheek too? For good luck?"

"A kiss on the cheek?" Pansy made a show of thinking about it, but so forward a request… it certainly deserved a positive affirmation, now didn't it? "Lower your face."

Harry's face lit up, and without delay, he did as she asked.

Pansy wrapped it, gently, around his upper arm and smiled when she saw her work thereon. Others, witches like Tracey that read romantic novels or those that knew much of the older ways of life would know what it meant.

"Good luck, and don't do anything stupid," Pansy prodded him in the side to emphasise her point. "I'll be expecting this kiss on the cheek to be returned when you've returned."

And with those words, she cupped his face, and pressed her lips to cheek.

She wished him all the good fortune in the world in doing so.

Chapter Text

January 2, 1995

Pansy yawned, brought a hand up to her head and leaned against the wall in a manner she figured would be inconspicuous. It helped that the person she was watching was Cedric, one of the most trusting wizards throughout Hogwarts, and a boy seemingly with little to no perception skills. Had he been Harry, he would have surely noticed her consistent lingering in recent times, but, fortunately for Pansy, he wasn’t remotely close to Potter. It was, quite frankly, astounding to her that he’d managed to do so well in the first task; anybody would have been forgiven for thinking the Hufflepuff boy would have been the first of the four to fail.

Durmstrang studied magic and had courses that Hogwarts and Beauxbatons would never allow, much less encourage throughout any portion of their country. Beauxbatons, meanwhile, was considered exceptionally ‘gifted’ and ‘progressive’ when it came to the subjects therein. The Veela and Krum had to be the most talented person in their respective schools, whilst Pansy knew first-hand that Cedric… wasn’t. Harry was the true Champion of Hogwarts, and Cedric was a spare. 

Some Muggleborn — she’d not use Mudblood — called it a ‘home field advantage’ or the like. The term was unfamiliar to her, but the simple terminology therein made it exceedingly easy to understand. The Muggleborn thought it fair that Hogwarts be allowed two Champions as the host school and she’d not disagree. Cedric’s occasional bursts of knowledge thanks to the fact that he was further along in Hogwarts would prove helpful for Harry, so long as the boy stopped socialising and actually focused on the task at hand. It was maddening that he spent the vast majority of his time simply speaking with other Hogwarts students rather than actually working towards his continued existence, dull as it seemed to be. 

Pansy sighed, looked into the sky, and sighed again, this time longer and so that her annoyance would be manifested in such a way that it wasn’t simply boiling over internally. She had already spent a good deal of time watching Cedric, and still, he’d done absolutely nothing worthwhile. It was beyond annoying by this point, and the egg he’d won via the task, she hadn’t seen even the slightest hint of it. Unlike Harry, he didn’t seem to keep it close by, protected and with its security ascertained. 

All that Cedric seemed to keep nearby were his groupies, including the Ravenclaw witch, Chang. For all of the supposed intelligence of a Ravenclaw in comparison to other houses, she didn’t seem as if she was all that helpful to Cedric. The two simply flirted back and forth with one another in a way that ensured nothing productive truly happened. It was quite sickening, their flirtatious habits and lack of public decorum when they’d sneak off to have a snog. 

Chang had no shame and Cedric wasn’t quite as noble and innocent as the rest of Hogwarts made him out to be. He was certainly no Harry in terms of raw strength, potential, or gentlemanly mannerisms. No, Harry was far superior in those regards, not that she was keeping track. 

She wouldn’t do that. It was just a comparison; for it, she’d used Harry as a baseline instead of Draco. After all, Harry had been her Yule date and as such, it made sense for Pansy to use him as a baseline for all wizards. 

Annoyed with herself and the fact that, as was oft the case, her mind went back in the direction of Harry, Pansy rapidly blinked her eyes and shook her head so as to refocus on the task at hand; spying on Cedric. Harry was off studying with Granger, and whilst Pansy had a lot to say about the Muggleborn witch, she’d not do so. She knew just how much Granger meant to Harry and so she’d tolerate the presence of the other witch so long as it kept him happy and aided him in the tasks at hand. 

Mayhaps it helped that she was left to spy on Cedric sans the company of Harry or Granger. Pansy was brilliant when it came to watching others and listening in on conversations. She’d learned how to do so from a young age at the behest of her mother. Purebloods were always working angles, especially those of importance such as her family or others of Old Blood, and it only made sense that you’d keep your head down and ears on alert for what you might learn. If she were to be a Lady of a wondrous house sometime in the future, she’d have to do that to such a degree that other houses would be wary whensoever she was near. 

Cedric, meanwhile, lacked any sense of privacy or secrecy. He spoke loudly, and he joked around with those he called friends, and whenever a question was asked, he would answer to the best of his ability and with the utmost honesty. It was almost commendable. Almost. 

If they were truly friends of his, any of those that came up to speak with him throughout the day would have told him to hush up when it came to the task. Any information that he had come across or learned through study or tribulation, whensoever he spoke, was sent into the air for anybody else to take and use for their friends or those they were close to. Krum, the Durmstrang seeker that so many witches seemed to have a fondness for, likely had friends doing much the same that she was. 

Fortunately, Harry valued his privacy and wouldn’t be so open-mouthed about everything. It wasn’t in his personality. 

“Yes,” Cho said shyly, as the Ravenclaw girl finally passed through the archway with Cedric hot on her heels. The girl seemed quieter than normal and there seemed to be a bit of blush on her face. “I’m certain.” 

It gave Cedric a goofy expression as he followed after her. The boy seemed enthralled as if Chang was a Veela like the French witch. The one who’d occasionally look at Harry in a manner that Pansy didn’t like. Not in the slightest. Fortunately, Harry didn’t seem all that susceptible to the French temptress. It must have been maddening. 

“Are we—” Cedric coughed, that goofy expression still on his face as he seemed to look around before speaking again, this time in a quieter tone of voice, but still loud enough for the nearby Pansy to overhear. “Going together?”  

Chang seemed scandalised as if the mere suggestion was so forward and gutsy that she hadn’t thought he’d ask it. Even if it wasn’t something related to the task, Pansy simply had to know what had the other witch in such a state of embarrassment. It was too wonderful to pass up. 

“We shouldn’t. It’d look bad… you going into the bath with me and that egg?” Chang shook her head, muttered something quietly and dashed away from Cedric with a few more words said, but in a tone so low that Pansy didn’t have the slightest of chances to understand just what was said. 

The bath with her and the egg. Water? That’d be amusing, or the two are simply trying something out… I suppose I’ll give the Ravenclaw’s words a chance. They can’t be thought of as the home of the most intelligence without some form of merit. 

Pansy chose that time to close up her book and heave herself — gracefully — from off of the wall under the archway. For the moment, she was satisfied that she’d done her job and aided Harry in his next task. If the water option was exhausted and proved fruitless, perhaps she’d pay Cedric another non-visit… it did occur to her that the eggs could be different, but it was Hogwarts. More importantly, the games were hosted by the English Ministry with help from the staff of Hogwarts; such complexity was beyond their simple, corrupted minds. 

She laughed to herself quietly as she moved away from the courtyard and in the direction of the class, she knew Harry was still studying inside with Granger. For what it was worth, she did hope the answer would prove fruitful. Not only for the lack of interesting happenings in Cedric’s overly extroverted life but also for Harry and the sake of his continued happy and otherwise alive existence. 

If he were felled on account of a tournament he shouldn’t have been placed within in the first place, she’d be very cross with many people. Her family, more specifically her mother, would see to it that those behind the act were punished. 

Pansy peered into the classroom from the alcove of the door. Unfortunately, Granger was still present. She’d hoped by taking a little bit longer on the trip to get to Harry that the other witch would have been gone by now even if she knew that she was simply trying to aid him much like she herself was doing. That didn’t change the simple fact that Granger’s presence was, quite simply, grating in an indescribable fashion. 

The other witch had a voice that caused annoyance to blossom in Pansy’s chest and a manner of speaking that made it seem as if she knew everything that happened. In truth, there were few that annoyed Pansy even half as much as Granger did, and of that lucky, prestigious group, Malfoy was amongst them. Malfoy, the boy she’d originally been intent on marrying and joining his family. 

As time progressed as it so oft did, Pansy realised just how lucky she’d been by distancing herself from him. Slowly, and from their first year onwards, he’d seemed to grow more and more driven by a single-minded hatred for Harry, who truly wasn’t all that horrible. All that hatred did was prove to the school that Slytherin was weak, unintelligent, and not nearly as cunning or inconspicuous as they should be. It was if they’d turned into Gryffindors of the bully variety that Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw would, on occasion, complain about. 

Bullies, Pansy rolled her eyes as she continued to watch Harry maintain the studious air around himself. If you don’t want to be bullied, curse or hex the person, and if you can’t beat them, trick them; Draco and his goons are so stupid, it should be quite easy. 

Pansy shook her head. She longed to get back at Draco for his dismissive, impolite, arrogant attitude whensoever she’d speak or do something. He thought himself the best of Slytherin when in truth, it was those like herself and Greengrass, Zabini or the older Flint, the Carrows even, that were the true embodiment of Slytherin. 

There was a good piece of advice she’d been given some time ago; ‘if they can think about you on a whim, you’ve already lost.’ 

Whilst admittedly the idea of being on every wizard's mind was enjoyable, she realised the truth of it. If they could always think about her, recall her face, her name, her personality, she’d be at a disadvantage. It was best to keep information about yourself hidden, rarely spoken about, and your head down with ears and perceptive. 

Those cousins of hers, the Carrow Twins, were perfect examples.

Pansy huffed, swallowed, and finally pushed open the door with all the confidence she could muster. It wasn’t hard. 

“Harry,” she greeted immediately, a smile forcing its way to her face when she looked at the boy with messy hair and kind eyes… before her eyes inevitably sought out his companion and tutor. “Granger.” 

Granger looked her up and down, no hatred in her eyes, but there was a caution and sense of inherent dislike, and most of all, remembrance that made itself plain to see when the Gryffindor witch looked at her. “Parkinson,” Granger returned, her voice cool, without malice, and surprisingly ‘stern’ for a nervous, typically passionate Muggleborn witch. 

“Welcome back!” Harry said loudly as he immediately stood up from his chair and made his way over to Pansy, whereupon reaching her, he hugged her without so much as a word of warning. He squeezed her back, smiled as he separated and cocked his head at her. “How’d it go? Learn anything?” 

He hadn’t exactly been for the idea of spying on others, but when she’d stressed the importance, he’d eventually come around. Perhaps it helped that she ‘swore’ to him — only with words and not by magic or anything of the like — that she’d not use any of the knowledge she learned for ‘evil’. She suspected that to be the case, really. Anyhow, when she swore she’d be kind and keep Cedric’s secrets so long as they weren’t related to the tournament, he’d immediately been for the idea of listening in on the other boy. She imagined he knew just how important any extra information was, and as a result, realised it could help him in a way that studying wouldn’t. 

She’d corrupted at least that tiny portion of him. Perhaps it made her feel a tough bad for doing so, but if he were to survive in an innately corrupt world, forgetting one’s morals would, on occasion, be helpful. Morgana, to do so could even be listed as a requirement to survive the world. ‘Heroes’ were a thing for stories read aloud to children in their beds, but villains and those who sought any type of destruction were very much real. 

“Do you have the egg with you or nearby?” Pansy asked with an exaggerated look around, content to draw out the information she’d learned. Whilst she’d never say harsh words to Harry or those he was close to any longer, teasing was another matter altogether. 

She knew that witches from all backgrounds teased their wizards. Pansy, as such, would be no exception to the rule. Not when the rule was very enjoyable. 

Harry nodded and indicated with a nod in the direction of his misshapen satchel. With but one look, his meaning was immediately obvious. Pansy wasn’t entirely pleased that he made it look so obvious, though she supposed it was better than leaving it alone and without the ability to defend. 

“Pansy?” he asked again, eager. 

Pansy chuckled and stood to her full height… and then on the tips of her toes on account of their bothersome height difference. “Grab it, and come with me.” 

“I’ll come too,” Granger immediately volunteered, injecting herself into the would-be private time Pansy had intended on having with Harry. “Where are we headed and what did you learn? We could discuss how best to follow through with a plan on our way to the destination — I’d not like to hear the screeching again if we’re not certain it’ll work. It could cause damage to our hearing, you know.” 

Damage to our hearing. Does magic not exist? 

Rather than spew that back at the Muggleborn, Pansy simply smiled. She wouldn’t let her anger or dislike for Harry’s friend cloud her reasoning and ability to communicate effectively and without vitriol. No, Pansy would be polite and mannered, as her mother had taught her… and her reward would be seeing the bookworm blush and stammer at her suggestion. 

“Please, do join us, dear. The activation is, supposedly, by way of water. Cedric and his entourage said as much, and so I thought it a good idea if we went to a bath together. You have a suit for bathing, don’t you? And you too, Harry?” Pansy gestured down herself, her smile growing as Harry looked at her with wide eyes and Granger blushed the colour of a tomato. “We’ll all, of course, need to get into the water together if we’d like to see how the egg works. It’s quite important, and very specific — now come along, won’t you both? I’d like to ensure we make the evening’s meal afterwards.” 

Granger looked at her, still blushing, but with narrowed eyes, and when Pansy simply smiled back with the utmost confidence and self-assurance, the other girl eventually backed down with an audible swallow. “I think… yes, you two can go,” she clapped her hands together and then smoothed her skirt; a skirt that was already quite smooth, before she moved to pack up her belongings. “Harry. Tell me what happens. We’ll speak in the common room when you’re back. Make sure you don’t forget anything. I don’t know if it’ll have a note inside, a map, words, just don’t forget… Parkinson, if he does, would you remember, please? Whatever the hint is, it has to be very important for this next task. It could decide what magic we have Harry focus on next.” 

Pansy rolled her eyes at Granger's words but stopped herself short again of a remark she would have otherwise, under normal circumstances, made. This change was still very new to Pansy, but the blush and embarrassment made it worthwhile. Especially if she could continue to tease both Granger and Harry; blushing faces and stammered words were better than angry looks and heated exchanges… though a traitorous portion of her mind said that she wouldn’t mind a ‘heated’ exchange with Potter.

That portion of her mind was very vivid. 

“Let’s go then, Harry,” Pansy finally said as she nodded at Granger, all but telling the other girl that she’d do as she wished and relay any information of importance to her. 

Granger repaid her with a look that lacked suspicion and was nearly thankful. Pansy would accept it. 

“Myrtle’s bathroom?” Harry asked with furrowed brows as he looked around the place. 

Pansy nodded, and based on the look on Harry’s face, deduced something interesting. “You’ve been here before, have you?” 

He nodded and gestured towards the sinks in the centre of the room, and a few of the stalls. “Ron, Hermione and I have some stories to tell. Well, when we’re out of Hogwarts, I suppose,” he winked at her and the next words sent a jolt down her spine that she hadn’t prepared herself to handle. “I can’t give away all my secrets, Pans.”

That left her inwardly cursing his name for multiple reasons, but more than that, she truly hoped he hadn’t seen her body wiggle at his words and the tone in which she’d spoken to her. It wouldn’t be very fun if he had; she was meant to be the person that teased and he was meant to be the one that blushed and squirmed. 

Switching that dynamic up wasn’t enjoyable. Not at all, she thought petulantly. 

“There’s a bath in the back left and showers on the right, they’re slightly hidden, mind you,” Pansy gestured to the left and gestured to Harry afterwards. “You’ll go first. I’ve heard the spiders up here could be quite large, and I’d like to avoid them and their webs if I could manage to do so. I’m sure my big, strong wizard could see the path ahead cleared.” 

He snorted. “Your big strong wizard?” 

Pansy raised her brows at him as if she didn’t need to repeat the words she’d just said. “I don’t believe you misheard me.” 

“You’re just using me as spider bait,” he complained with a faux pout as he moved ahead of her, clearly unbothered by the fact that those eight-legged abominations could soon be crawling upon him. Pansy was pleased, however, not to be the one that those bothersome insects might be bothering. 

“Think of it as my requirement for feeding you the information that water should aid you,” Pansy said with a shrug as she followed very close behind him, and as they reached the midway point to the bath, she went so far as to reach out with her non-wand hand to grab the back of his robes. Myrtle was oft said to jump out at people, and she’d rather not be overly startled; her pride couldn’t suffer jumping and screaming before Potter. At least by holding onto him, she could claim something else. 

“I would have thought that payment would be joining me in a bath.” 

Pansy snorted, not at all embarrassed as Granger had earlier been. “Please. You’re the lucky one. Even if I remain in nearly all of my clothing with charms placed to ensure they remain dry, you’ll still be able to say you had the pleasure of bathing alongside me,” she countered. “If anything, you’ve made out like a bandit today, Potter.” 

As they finally made it to the bath, Harry snorted and looked over his shoulder at her. There wasn’t any jesting or teasing in his next words or on his face as he spoke them.

“I suppose I have, haven’t I?” 

The sincerity and happiness made her look away lest he saw her blush. 

January 3, 1995

“So under the lake? Is that what we’re thinking the clue meant?” Granger asked as she tapped on the desk and looked between Pansy and Harry. Her eyes were searching, and she definitely seemed a bit miffed that she’d missed out on hearing the hint, but all the same, she was more than ready to help Harry with the task. 

It made Pansy’s opinion of the other witch climb slightly higher. Granger would always be a touch too much in terms of her studious behaviour and the know-it-all personality she portrayed in class, but outside of that setting, she was a worthwhile companion. 

“Yes,” Pansy confirmed. “It was very evident. Whatsoever Harry does next, will be under the water and for the sake of some sort of reclamation. I’m uncertain as to what that would be, I mean what they’ll take from him, but it’ll be of limited duration that he has to retrieve it.”

“Have you checked your trunk? Everything?” Granger all but demanded from Harry when Pansy finished speaking; the lattermost nearly snickered. Pansy had told Harry to do exactly that when he’d returned to Gryffindor Tower that evening.

“Yeah. Everything’s right where it should be, more or less. Nothing was missing that I noticed, nothing that was remotely important… I think I was missing a pair of socks, now that I think about it, but I don’t reckon they’ve taken those to put at the bottom of the lake, yeah?” Harry looked between the two witches when he finished, his face was adorable when he sought out confirmation. 

Pansy, were it not for Granger’s presence, would have been tempted to run her hands through his hair and grace him with a kiss on either cheek. She wasn’t a harlot, but Potter could be rather adorable on occasion. Enough so that a kiss or embrace wouldn’t be too without reason. 

“No, Harry, I doubt they stole a pair of your socks. Perhaps it’ll happen closer to the task,” Granger’s latter words mused aloud after she answered Harry. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Pansy finally said with a shrug, before a lul in their conversation could happen — before Granger could question what she meant by her previous words, she continued quickly. “Whatever they took doesn’t matter. You didn’t find it, it’s probably nothing yet, but what does matter is what you learn. We don’t have an endless amount of time to have you learn a cacophony of spells that would benefit you under the water. We’d be lucky to have you master three or four spells in the amount of time that we’d have, one or two would be more realistic.” 

“She’s right,” Granger agreed. “I’ll go to the library and see what books I can find that would be useful. I already know there’s one spell, a charm, that causes a bubble filled with air to form around your head. It’s not perfect, it can be collapsed or destroyed, but if we can’t find anything else, it would have to make do.” 

If it can be destroyed, we shouldn’t use it, Pansy wanted to say. Instead, she remained silent, certain that she or Granger could find something else between the two of them. 

Harry, whilst the two of them looked, would simply have to think about how he’d act under the water; there were potentially problematic creatures he could face, and that wasn’t counting the other champions. It was well-known that they could provide obstacles for one another, if not outright fights altogether. 

Krum, of the three others, would likely be the most difficult in that regard. That was, if one of the other three Champions took it upon themselves to ensure they finished first, or somebody else didn’t finish at all, it would be him. The Veela, Delacour, could perhaps work her mind enthrallment over Cedric or Krum, but Harry possessed an almost unnatural willpower that had been proven by Professor Moody. 

It made Pansy very confident that the sole witch in the tournament would not, in any way, be problematic for him to overcome if it came to blows. Cedric, whilst the older boy was said to have extensive magical knowledge and a good degree of that being combative knowledge via a ‘high-society’ duelling outlet — without experience that was — would not be one to raise his wand in an aggressive manner. Pansy would consider that a weakness of his, but one that she would happily have Harry be made aware of. 

Still, caution would be necessary. 

“Pansy?” 

She broke free from her thoughts and turned her head so as to look at Harry. He seemed to have no worry or nervousness, not in his words and not expressed on his face. It was rather impressive, and also the epitome of bothersome… perhaps minorly annoying or worrying too. It wasn’t her in the tournament, but even still, she felt the looming sense of doom that Harry should, and apparently wasn’t, feeling. 

“Yes?” she asked him, perhaps a bit short-sounding. 

He blinked at her. “Alright?” 

That question made her narrow her eyes at him. Wizards, even those as kind and gentlemanly as Harry, didn’t have a clue when it came to witches. As her mother said, when she deemed it the right time to invest completely in one wizard, she would have to work with that man over a vast amount of time to reach some level of understanding. 

Harry wouldn’t need much work at all. He’s just a bit thick, like most wizards. 

Pansy nearly cursed that inward desire for him. It didn’t help when she wanted to be mad at him. Well, she supposed it helped him. 

“I’m thinking about what I’m going to do to help you, where I might find the spells or where Granger might find the spells, and how we’ll ensure that you learn them to a level where you’d be beyond proficient,” Pansy pointed accusingly at him then. “You should be far more worried than you are.” 

He shrugged. “Not really a point in being worried. Everything works out, it always has, and with you and ‘Mione, I’m more confident than ever.” 

Pansy nearly hung her head. Whilst she was glad to have inspired such a degree of hope in him, she didn’t like that mindset. In Slytherin, it didn’t work — he was lucky he’d been placed in Gryffindor. Still, she supposed if he was that confident, everything should well and truly work itself out so long as there was a bit of guidance helping it along. If that guidance came by way of Pansy’s own intervention mixed together with Granger’s studious efforts to aid Harry in his survival of the second and third tasks, he’d have a chance. 

“You realise we’re going to spend countless hours until the day of the task so that you’re not killed by whatever it is you’ll be going against, right?” Pansy asked with her hands on her hips and her head cocked to one side. If he dared say otherwise, so help the world, she’d curse him until she was out of breath and then see what she could do in terms of silent casting. “We’ll start with something that, I don’t know, keeps you from drowning whilst you’re swimming around all happily under the water. Do you agree, or would you prefer your luck keeps air in your lungs?” 

He blinked at her. “I… I would like to breathe under the water, and however I’ll do that works — Hermione mentioned some bubble charm, right?” 

“It’s prone to getting burst by something sharp or anything that might run into it. I don’t think you’d want to drown at the bottom of some dark lake, would you?” Pansy took a step closer; she was very close to jabbing one of her fingers into his chest to emphasize her point. 

“I’d reckon there are other spells that are better, but if Hermione doesn’t know them and you don’t, we’d have to spend a lot of time looking around, right? What else could I try and learn without that?” Harry asked, finally relaying that he wasn’t wholly reliant on luck, but still, the lack of any level of fear was simply strange. If she were in his shoes, she’d be writing home to her parents and demanding aid in any capacity that they could give. 

There’s an idea, she thought to herself. Pansy could write home to her parents and see if they knew any spells that could help Harry. They had a sizeable library like most families with old blood did, and they had a lot of friends in various circles and a good deal of them owed favours to her family. Her father would be insufferable if she had her mother use those to aid Harry, but her mother wasn’t like her father. If she knew that she could help Pansy with Harry, even if they weren’t more than friends thus far, she’d do so. 

Pansy’s mother wished for Pansy to be happy, and based on the teasing she’d done whensoever Harry was present or brought up, it was readily apparent that her mother had no issue if Pansy chose Harry. Ah, decisions. 

“Leave the searching to Granger and I, though if you do wish to help, speak with Granger. Whilst the two of you look in the Hogwarts library, I’ll check the books that we have in the Slytherin common area and I’ll write a missive to my mother in the hopes of a book being in our library. If all of our efforts jointly prove fruitless, then I’ll think of something from there,” Pasny sighed and gestured to a desk, wherein a chair was still tucked neatly under. “Grab a seat. We’ll brainstorm together and see if you don’t already know any spell, however minute or poor you might think it to be, that could prove helpful.” 

He blinked at her, likely already thinking about spells that might be beneficial, and then he wisely did as she bid him to. When Pansy saw him pull out the seat of the desk beside the one she’d gestured to, and then look at her expectantly as he slid into a chair of his own, she couldn’t help but let him see a small half-smile on her face. Some time ago, he would never have listened to anything that she’d said to him. 

Morgana, the two wouldn’t have even been able to spend time alone together. Not remotely. They’d very much disliked one another, though not for any reason save for Draco’s intervention. He wished for her to dislike and make fun of Harry, and she’d wanted to keep the relationship they’d built in the hopes of a good future… it all felt so empty now. 

Boring. Stupid. Idiotic. It had taken the Carrow Twins to tell her that she was being foolish, though with not the usage of such words. 

Pansy sighed, slid into the seat and withdrew a book from her satchel and slid it before Harry. “Alright,” she said to him. “Let’s get this started.” 

January 28, 1995

Pansy nearly closed her eyes and allowed an impromptu nap to take place as she leaned back atop a transfigured couch. It would have been so very easy to let the peacefulness that was sleep take her into its waiting, comfortable and often enough, warm arms, but she didn’t allow herself that rest. She wouldn’t until the second task came about, and even then, only after t was complete and Harry was victorious. 

It wasn’t out of some sense of owing or whatever other words people might use. Simply put, like any person that was worthwhile to keep around, Pansy felt a sense of loyalty towards those she called friends; that was the reason she loathed to call many people at all, friends. The more people you kept close to your heart, the more time you would need to spend aiding them, ensuring they were the right sort of company amongst a myriad of other traits and the like that you’d need to keep track of. 

Greengrass, Harry, Bulstrode and on occasion, Davis — the Carrow Twins were automatically included as well — were all in whom she’d place at least some small amount of trust and friendship. They had aided one another, made quick friends and had good working relationships, and as such, they were those she would always aid. 

Today proved itself a wondrous example. Between her efforts and Granger’s, they had found four spells that Harry might find easy to learn and manageable whilst he was under the water, there was also a weed of sorts that she’d learned about. Neither she nor Granger was very favourable towards it, but having a secondary option that required not but a piece of weed ingested wasn’t horrible even if it proved undesirable. 

“Alright,” Harry said with a clap of his hands and a wide, toothy smile as he looked between Granger and her. He seemed in extremely high spirits, and she imagined that was on account of him figuring out a charm that aided his swim speed. It caused some sort of propulsion to happen that would vastly increase the speed in which he moved underwater, enough so that he could outpace even a shark or many a small fish… so long as he went in a reasonably straight line. “What’re the spells?” 

Pansy couldn’t help herself. Regardless of how unladylike it might be, she allowed herself to snort whilst looking at him. Granger raised her brows and hid a laugh behind a cough, and Harry looked at her with wide eyes. It’s the first time he’d heard such a found come from her… she thought. 

“Granger. Your two spells first, and I’ll speak my two afterwards. I’m not fond of back-and-forth word games,” Pansy said politely, and with a gesture to the aforementioned Granger girl. In her mind especially, by allowing Granger to speak first and all at once, she was being especially polite. 

Harry and Granger looked at one another, Granger pulled a face that seemed surprised and something else, and then, after a brief cough to clear her throat, she started to speak. 

“As Pansy said, Harry, we’ve each found two spells through the weeks of searching and whilst you’ve been looking for spells of your own. I’ll put the easier, less versatile spell first and the latter second — I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of that second spell the moment we were brainstorming about how best we might see you survive under the water,” Hermione swallowed, withdrew notes from her satchel, and started reading the words thereupon. “Instead of the bubble-head charm, one that is easy to learn and easier to burst, I found a spell that allows you to inhale water and use the oxygen therein. It’s quite dangerous, and if you lose concentration or the spell effects falter, you’ll have a very serious issue with the water already being deep in your lungs… suffice to say, it’s not ideal.” 

Harry blinked and winced in unison, and then he spoke. “What’s the second option, ‘Mione?” he asked. 

At that, she nodded, happy to move that spell elsewhere. “Second, and as I said very obviously, is transfiguration upon your body. It’s considered dangerous to do, but it’s a level of magic we should learn, at least in a limited capacity, by the time we’re finished with our education at Hogwarts. You could pick a shark, a fish, maybe even a Merman — anything that has the innate ability to breathe underwater with a set of gills. If you’d like to ensure you remain mobile and on the move with the utmost of your agility, you could even transfigure your whole body or the majority of it. In fact, it’s extraordinarily useful and an amazing ability to have, there are tales of… never mind, I shouldn’t delve too deeply. I suppose of the two, it’s the harder, but safer option, though that shouldn’t be confused to mean that it’s without danger. You’d still be transfiguring very important functions of your body.” 

Harry nodded as if he understood. “Thanks, ‘Mione. Really. I know neither isn’t really ideal, but that’s more than I could have come up with. You and Pansy have been doing a lot for me, spending hours of your days helping. I haven’t forgotten, and I won’t,” he smiled at Granger, and then after a few seconds passed, he shifted that smile over to Pansy. “What about you, Pansy? What’re you thinking? What’d you find?” 

She wanted to bite her bottom lip. Transfiguration had been something she’d looked at, considered even, but she’d ultimately determined that it was too dangerous and risky, and as such, was something she’d scrapped; she knew it was the greatest of all of the options nonetheless. 

“I’ll mimic Granger’s order of speaking, that being to put the easier option first, and the more difficult, better option second,” Pansy fought down a yawn, only barely keeping it from flying out of its own volition, and then she started forth. “My first option was quite simply the utilisation of a spell that would recycle your oxygen, but there’s a cost — it’s not infinite. You would gradually be going without oxygen the longer you utilised the spell, and as a result, you’d need to swim to the top or find some other way to ensure you have a supply of oxygen. It’s estimated to last for ten to fifteen minutes, though it varies per person.” 

“If we could find a way for Harry to maintain some sort of oxygen supply, that spell of yours could actually be pretty advantageous,” Granger mused aloud. 

Pansy wanted to say of course it could, there was a reason she’d picked it, but instead, she simply nodded at the other girl. Thus far, she’d not made a single comment at Granger that could be perceived as rude or outright hostile despite the feelings she felt towards her… Pansy especially disliked just how often Granger touched Harry or hugged him, or smiled at him. 

It was atrocious and not cute in the slightest. At least when Pansy smiled at him or allowed him the privilege of holding her hand or her warm embrace, it was done with grace and fluidity that the Muggleborn girl lacked. Harry usually had more of a gusto with physical affection when it came to Pansy too, she perceived that with ease.

“Pansy?” 

She looked at the source of the voice, that being Harry, and raised a brow at him. She hadn’t heard anything else while she’d been thinking in her mind. 

“What’s the other spell you were thinking about?” he asked, a lopsided smile on his face as he leaned closer to her. Mayhaps she’d missed something. She wouldn’t show embarrassment, no, she’d sit up straight and continue all the same without so much as a hint that she’d done so on accident. 

“If that spell isn’t to your liking, the only other option I’d come across — whilst perhaps a touch vulgar — involved the utilisation of plant life and the like that persisted underwater. It could, perhaps, work in tandem with the first spell I’d told you about,” Pansy looked between the two, noticing Granger’s hesitance, and so she focused solely on Harry. “You would tap anything else that you could see down in the depths, and it would allow you, over a period of time, to sap the oxygen from the target and absorb it into your body. I’d only found the spell in mentions of the primary, and after a great deal of time, I managed to find it in a book that would be frowned upon to possess, though not illegal in any capacity.” 

“So he’d steal oxygen from other things?” Granger asked immediately, and as soon as Pansy was finished speaking. Already, the latter girl could hear the disapproval in the former’s voice. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Granger was ever the champion of plants, fish, bugs and house elves. 

Pansy nearly sneered. House elves, at least those owned by her family, were treated fairly, provided room and board, all the food they’d like to eat and should anyone raise a hand to them, the person would be banished from the premises. Violence, for the sake of violence, was vulgar. Untoward. Uncivilised. 

Simply put, it was so very Muggle. Any witch or wizard with a touch of self-respect would never resort to it. 

“He could choose to take all of the oxygen from whatsoever he chooses as a target or some of it. I’d be unable to provide you with a percentage, as you’re likely aware, but the option remains in place if he doesn’t wish to sap the entirety of one’s life force, in crude terms, from it,” Pansy responded. It wasn’t even as if something could die unless Harry held the spell overly long, and he wouldn’t need to. 

So long as he managed his oxygen well and kept on top of it, he’d be perfectly fine, as would anything he’d borrow strength from. 

“I can see why it’d be frowned upon,” Granger said with a look elsewhere, away from Pansy’s general direction. 

It was a good thing too, or Pansy might not have been able to resist that urge to sneer that had struck her earlier. She did so hate when one had a self-imposed code that came across as overly good. Anything that had any form of downside or flaw, or even a risk of complication was automatically classified as ‘dark’, ‘evil’ or ‘malicious’ out of fear. One would think that schools such as Hogwarts would educate the public on matters just like Durmstrang strives to do, but with the influence of fools in the Ministry, that wasn’t the case. 

“Anyone, even a stickler for rules, would have to realise the spell isn’t disallowed and as such, could be utilised. If used in tandem with the spell I spoke about first, he could very easily ensure that all remains well. It isn’t as if these options are the only ones we have too, there’s always the weed—” 

“Gillyweed,” Granger interjected.

Pansy narrowed her eyes at the other girl and picked up from where she’d left off. “— Gillyweed, that Harry could use. If he does so, whilst that would mean finding or taking it from somewhere, there’s the risk of the unknown unless you’ve somehow mastered everything about the product in a short span of time. There’s also the fact that he’d need to be out of the water by the time it wears off too, or the liquid in his lungs will drown him — that remains an issue with the weed even when he’s out of the water. We’d need a way to empty his lungs.” 

“We could think of something,” Granger said. “There’s a charm that makes somebody cough.” 

“That’s a hex,” Pansy said with a roll of her eyes. It was too, she knew as much considering she’d used it on Crabbe or Goyle so that they’d slow down whilst they ate. It was behaviour unbecoming of one such as her, but if it meant peace whilst those two sloppy wizards ate their fill, it was unbecoming behaviour that proved itself worthwhile. 

Harry coughed before the two could argue over semantics or simply argue for the sake of arguing. They’d gotten along well enough thus far, and so he likely wished to avoid having that ruined. She couldn’t totally blame him, she supposed, but there would never be any fondness in her heart towards Granger. Pansy imagined the same could be said by Granger towards herself. 

“I’ll see if Neville knows anything about Gillyweed. The bloke has book after book about those sorts of things, so I’d reckon if anybody knew everything there was to know about it outside of Professor Sprout, it’d be him — meanwhile, I’ll try your secondary option ‘Mione and both of Pansys. It’d be best to try and get as many options as possible, yeah?” Harry smiled at the two witches and gestured at the book before him. It was filled with notes that he’d made, Granger had made, and occasionally, that Pansy had interjected. “I’m pretty certain all of the other spells I know should function underwater just fine too, right?” 

“Right,” Hermione agreed. 

At that, Harry clapped his hands together and leaned back in his seat. “We’re settled, then,” he said. 

Granger nodded and stood up abruptly from her seat. “I’ll go and get the books related to transfiguring oneself. You’ll find it fascinating, especially as the books tell you the possibilities,” she said before she promptly headed for the door with a skip in her steps; she seemed very eager to begin aiding him with the transfiguration magic. 

Pansy nearly shook her head in exasperation. It wasn’t half as interesting as Granger made it out to be. She knew that. 

“Pansy?” 

With a yawn that she covered by way of one perfectly manicured hand, she lazily rolled her head so as to look at Harry. it was nought but the two of them in the room again, and so she didn’t have to be quite as perfect as she often did. He knew a bit more about her, he’d seen her when she wasn’t the epitome of perfection that she nearly always was — he’d even gotten to see her without the typical cacophony of beauty spells and products she’d adorn herself with. 

“Harry?” she asked back at him. 

He did as she did earlier, he snorted. “Here,” he said as he held out his hand that she hadn’t noticed had been digging in the satchel that was hanging on his chair. In that hand of his was a small box with a cute little bow at the top of it. In other words, it had the appearance of a typical small-sized gift. His next words reinforced that idea. “I got this for you… for all of the help that you’ve given me recently, you know? It’s still a bit strange, sitting here with you, speaking with you. But it’s been grand, especially when we went to the Yule Ball together and especially when I looked in the crowd and saw you wearing my tournament robes.” 

At the memory of her hijacking those robes and dancing with him, she couldn’t help the blush that came to her face of its own volition. Those memories were pretty fond whensoever she thought about them. It seemed the same could be said for him whensoever he thought about them too. 

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” Pansy said as she sat up straighter and folded her hands in her lap, ever mindful of manners as she slipped into the ‘courting’ like attitude that her mother had taught her. It was very old-timey, and yet, with Harry and how kind he was, it felt as if it was normal.

It had never felt this way with Draco, least of all when he practically shoved gifts into her hands before returning to those boyish friends of his. Not one had the maturity or myriad of other traits that Harry seemed to possess. 

He rose from his seat then, and smiled down at her as he grabbed up his satchel and threw it over his shoulder; it was only then that she looked out of the nearest window and saw quite how dark it had gotten. The hour was late, very late, and certainly later than she’d thought it to be. 

“I wanted to,” he said with simplicity in his tone and dashing look upon his face as he lowered himself and wrapped her up in a simple, short-lasting hug that she returned without any manner of hesitance. 

He started to back away after nought but a few seconds, and as she felt him doing so, she did something without thinking that was quite embarrassing. Enough so that the scant blush upon her face nearly increased thrice over, to the point that a comparison between her and a tomato might be possible. 

Pansy, without thinking, pressed her lips against his cheek, whereupon doing so there was the faintest of contact with the edge of his lips. It was very forward, very unladylike of her, and yet, somehow, she believed her mother would be encouraging her to kiss the wonderful boy that was Harry Potter. 

She could do far worse, and doubted very much that she could do any better; there was no word that could be used to describe better than the best. 

Harry pulled back after the kiss, looked at her, smiled goofily, and dipped his head to her before he made toward the door. He knew that she’d likely remain out longer, skirting her time to the very boundaries of the nightly curfew. If he thought so, he thought correctly. There was more that she needed to do in the evening, and more that she could do that would aid him. 

“Goodnight, Harry,” Pansy found herself saying, and in a tone of voice that was softer and sweeter than the majority of the time in which she spoke. 

He smiled at her as he turned to exit through the doorway. “Goodnight, Pansy,” he said with an exaggerated bow and that same, toothy, wide smile of his. 

When he was gone and the door was closed behind him, she looked down at the little box she was still grasping. It was very cutesy, and with her expertise at gift-giving and receiving, she already knew it was meant for jewellery without so much as shaking it around or deftly untying the ribbon to remove the top. 

Pansy looked at the door again. It had to have cost him no small amount of galleons, moreso than many a wizard in Hogwarts would typically spend. That cost, it didn’t matter in and of itself to her, but the fact that he’d been willing to spend it without any true level of commitment between them… made her think. 

Maybe, she thought to herself.

It was time to go completely in on Harry Potter.

February 15, 1995

When Pansy meant now was the time to go completely in on Harry, she hadn’t wanted or meant for some article written by a horrible author such as Rita Skeeter to drop. No, that was one of her least-wanted desires, and yet, whilst she hadn’t wished for that to happen in the slightest, it had. 

Somehow, by some way — like Draco and his inferiority complex when it came to Harry — Rita had not only found out about the Yule Ball that Pansy had thought she’d kept under wraps, but she’d also found out, to some degree, that they spent more time with one another than was strictly necessary for their school projects. She’d even gone so far as to suggest that Harry was with Granger, which in and of itself was a delusional thought, and that Pansy was the one that he was ‘cheating’ on Granger with. 

The thought was absolutely abhorrent; Pansy second best to Granger ? 

There wasn’t any world where that might have a modicum of truth outside of grades, and that, most certainly, was not Hogwarts-related. 

“Well then,” Harry said, blinking as he looked at Pansy with easily-readable uncertainty. “What do we do?” 

At his question, asked without so much as a bit of concern for himself, she huffed. “There’s nothing we can do now that the article’s already been published by this rag,” Pansy held up the Prophet for all of a few seconds before she threw it away, off into some corner of an abandoned classroom, where it’d be covered by dust and mildew in no time; where it belonged. “I’ll write home to my mother and have the article discontinued, mayhaps she’ll even withdraw an apology. That’d be very enjoyable.” 

“Damage is already done though, yeah?” Harry asked, gesturing to it. When he realised what he said, he winced and smiled at her as best he could despite the narrowing of her eyes. “I don’t mean like it’s anything bad, but… you wanted to keep our friendship and what have you a secret, right?” 

“I had intended to keep how close we are a secret, yes. As you can imagine, even with my going to the Yule Ball as your partner, Draco and those who worship him weren’t exactly happy, much less supportive of my choices — still, as I told you, I’m not without friends or allies of my own. Fortunately, I have enough that he’d not outright do anything in opposition. I would hope that wouldn’t change now.” 

He blinked at her, and then he grinned as if an idea had just come to him. Instantly, she was wary. His ideas were oftentimes interesting, to say the least. 

“Well?” she asked as her hands found her hips of their own volition. 

“Why don’t we date?” 

Pansy blinked. She knew she hadn’t heard that right. That wasn’t how a wizard such as him would ask such a question. 

“Come again, Harry?” 

At that, he seemed to realise what her words meant and the brow she raised at him. He swallowed, gave her that lopsided smile of his and drew closer, his larger hands encompassing her smaller ones. “Would you go out with me?” 

“I suppose I could,” Pansy relented… and then she kissed his cheek, after insisting that he lower himself so she could do as much. “Though, if I’m to be your girlfriend, I’d like something from you.” 

Harry furrowed his brows as he looked at Pansy. “What’s that?” he asked her with a small degree of uncertainty or curiosity, she couldn’t quite make out which emotion it was that he was feeling. 

“I would, perhaps, enjoy the occasional kiss by way of a greeting and one by way of a farewell whensoever we’re together. You could manage that easily enough, I’m sure, isn’t that right?” Pansy batted her eyes at him just in case she needed the extra bit of cuteness. Obviously, she knew that she was the cutest and most beautiful witch in all of Hogwarts, but it could never harm her chances of receiving what she did so wish to receive. 

No, she was certain that doing so would ensure that all would go how she wished it would. 

“You want me to kiss you when we meet up or when we’re done for the evening?” Harry asked, his brows still furrowed as he looked at her. 

Pansy rolled her eyes but nodded nonetheless. Now that she was — officially — his witch, she’d have to be more patient than she’d already been, and more helpful in ensuring that he understood witches in general. “That is what I’d like, yes. If I’m not mistaken, that requirement shouldn’t be remotely difficult for you to fulfil, isn’t that right?” 

Without a second in-between her words and his response, Harry nodded rapidly. He seemed to think she’d retract her request or something, the poor boy. She couldn’t imagine why he’d think she’d do something so nefarious or needlessly cruel; it wasn’t just wizards that enjoyed a good kiss. 

“Grand.” 

Harry kissed her just as she’d done, and then he said something that was, perhaps, a touch devious on account of the day that it was. 

“Hogsmeade? As a celebration, I mean?” 

“We’d have to go without getting caught,” Pansy pointed out, already calculating how they could do so. 

Many of the Slytherin students had snuck out of Hogwarts in the past. It wouldn’t be especially difficult to figure out a way to do so without being caught by the groundskeeper or staff, least of all with the tournament happening as it was. In fact, the tournament made for the perfect cover, for all of the people within Hogsmeade, so long as Pansy and Harry had a minor disguise on, wouldn’t be certain as to which school the two teens belonged. 

Harry could be so very clever when he wished to, she mentally fawned. His cleverness far exceeded that of Draco, who often relied on his friends and contacts to ensure his safety and success. 

“I can do that,” Harry said with a grin, lopsided and charming as ever. “You might have to stay close to me though. Just to make sure we’re not caught.” 

Pansy looked him up and down. “This isn’t some attempt to take advantage of my beauty, is it?” she asked, barely containing a grin. Both of them knew that he wasn’t the type of wizard to do such a thing, and if he tried, she’d curse him until he could barely walk. 

Her mother had taught her all sorts of magic that related to dealing with a wizard that grew a bit too difficult or acted overly foolish around her. 

Harry’s eyes widened and he shook his head, and then his shoulders slumped and his eyes narrowed. “You got me just then, didn’t you?” 

“If you have to ask, then you probably already know the answer, don’t you?” Pansy retorted as she patted his cheek and started toward the door. “Are you going to show me the way, or are you going to stay in the room and look at my rear whilst I walk away from you?” she asked when she noticed Harry was still standing where she’d left him. 

“I’ll need to make a quick stop by Gryffindor Tower. You can wait near the entrance for me, right?” 

Pansy contained her curiosity, if only barely. She wasn’t sure what he needed to go and retrieve, but she’d not question it when the answer would soon make itself known to her. Even if it didn’t, she was very certain that she’d be able to figure it out without much preamble. Harry was so very poor when it came to keeping secrets from her. She could read him as if he were a tome in the Hogwarts library; that was how easy the sweet wizard was to read. 

“I’ll wait for you, yes,” she answered, grinning to herself when he finally started towards her. “Tell me, Harry, where do you intend on taking me when we have this little trip to Hogsmeade? I’m sure that you’ve got something in mind, don’t you?” 

Harry smiled at her. When that was all the answer that she got, she couldn’t help but huff. It was very frustrating, but if she let him know as much, she’d lose. It was one of the few tendencies that continued from the time when they didn’t get along, all those months ago. Unlike most of the others from when she’d disliked Harry for being, well, Harry, it was one that added a playful, teasing dynamic to their relationship.

She couldn’t complain about it, nor would she ever. 

“I’ll see soon enough, then,” Pansy said when Harry refused to elaborate, and at that, he openly laughed as he looped his arm through hers and escorted her in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. 

Pansy was — not that she’d admit it to Harry — very much looking forward to the time they’d spend together. Hogsmeade, whilst very limited, could be so very romantic. She was already feeling those obnoxious flutterings in her stomach. 

Chapter Text

Hogsmeade had been given a sort of restoration since the start of the tournament, and as Pansy and Harry grew nearer to the ancient, historic area — close enough for the nearest buildings to be visible — that couldn't have been made more obvious. It was like night and day, with the streets lined with the most gorgeous flowers and the buildings themselves restored to a splendour that hadn't been seen for centuries, at the very least.

Well, centuries was what she imagined it'd been given the general rattiness that'd previously been so prominent.

Pansy tucked closer to Harry when she was shaken from her thoughts by way of their carriage switching from dirt to cobblestone. Hogsmeade's roads were old, older than even Hogwarts some claimed, and yet still, they persisted.

Mostly.

She rolled her head to look up, at Harry, and found herself lost in looking at him while he gazed out their carriage, his attention seemingly focused on the village as a whole. His hair was... tamer than it most oft was, and his attire, a dark, forest-green sweater and a pair of black trousers, made him seem all the more appealing. She doubted there'd be a single witch that wouldn't want to get a hold of him.

And yet, he'd come here, with her.

It gave her no small amount of smug happiness as she snuggled into his side, his eyes coming down to her a moment later, his lips parting to show her a brilliant smile.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked.

She didn't hesitate in her nod.

"You're very warm," Pansy admitted a second or so later. "And you look better in green. It matches those eyes of yours."

Harry chuckled, a low sound that resonated within him and sent a faint vibration into her. She didn't dislike it, though she did have to suppress the urge to shudder and curl up against him further.

"Thanks," he said, and then he kissed the top of her head, the gesture so simple and yet so...

Morgana.

Maybe she should simply sequester herself away with him in some private room once they found a nice, warm and classy enough place to eat; with all the Frogs and Durmstrang students visiting, there'd been so many places opened that one was bound to fit her lofty standards.

"Look beautiful yourself, y'know," he mumbled a moment later, his cheeks growing red at the given compliment.

He'd gone and made her heart melt.

No compliments from Slytherins that desired her had been so genuine. Ofttimes, they were practised and half-hearted, all for the sake of appeasing family by hoping to bring back a witch they'd approve of. Draco's had been the worst. They'd always lacked any sincerity. She was just a prize to show off to his parents.

But, Harry... was perfect.

He knew she was smart, he prized her help and advice, and now, he was officially courting her. Well, at least in her mind he was — what else would trips, gifts and compliments mean?

"And you, dashing."

Harry looked ready to respond, his lips parting and all, but whatever he'd planned on saying was interrupted when their carriage pulled to a halt.

Pansy looked away from him, to the outside, and saw the large sign that hung overhead, a quaint, wooden piece with the words 'Three Broomsticks' carved into it. She'd thought it'd have stopped far earlier in the village, but evidently, it hadn't.

"You brought me to The Three Broomsticks?" Pansy asked, her eyebrows rising.

She'd not expected that, not in the slightest.

"Figured it'd be a good place to start. Don't like it?" Harry asked, a touch of uncertainty in his voice.

She couldn't have him doubting himself.

"It'll be a lovely place to start," Pansy amended with a smile as she leaned up, pecked his cheek and leaned across him so as to push open the carriage door. Afterwards, she settled back in the seat whence she'd risen from, and batted her eyes at him. "You first? I'll need help climbing down, wouldn't you say?"

Harry grinned, a lopsided and charming thing that made her want to melt and sigh; Morgana, she was starting to sound pathetic. It was like every little minute action or uniquely Harry response or gesture saw her as enthralled as all those stupid wizards that followed the French Champion around.

"Yeah. Reckon I would." He hopped down and held his hand out, his larger one taking her smaller one without hesitation, and he pulled her down gently.

"Thanks." Pansy leaned up and gave him another quick kiss, and then, when he took her arm, she was escorted to the doors, which Harry opened and gestured her through, bowing like a proper gentleman as he did. "Why thank you," she cooed, her cheeks warming from the attention.

As soon as he stepped in after her, the pair shared a look, and then a quiet burst of laughter.

"I never thought I'd enjoy such silliness," Pansy said as she led the way towards a place in the far back of the establishment, one that was well-enough away from the others. She had no desire in being at the centre of so many bothersome, blubbering idiots.

Harry's arm slipped from being 'round her own, and went lower. She thought he wanted distance until his hand found her own, his fingers lacing through hers as he gave her hand a light squeeze.

"Fun, isn't it?"

That little grin she sported had seemed so ever-present.

It made one of her own appear on her lips.

"Quite."

Pansy and Harry had drank a butter beer each, and lounged in their seats near to the fire for nearly half an hour before the pair decided that they should go somewhere else. Hogsmeade wasn't the biggest village even with a score new places one could go, and after being in the pub, Pansy had felt the desire to take a stroll.

Even if it was more than a bit nippy out.

Ah well, at least it'd be an excuse for Harry to use a heating charm on her person and stick close as they walked.

"You're directing us somewhere specific." Pansy said when Harry saw them take another turn, one that'd taken them deeper into the heart of the village.

"Am not," Harry countered as he tugged her closer, the two sharing a look and a grin a moment later.

"Oh? You think I can't get the truth from you?" Pansy saw another opportunity for playful affection, and she took it without hesitation. "I'm sure if I promised a kiss, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"

Harry looked her up and down, and then he grinned, lopsided as usual. "Could probably get anything from me with a promise like that, couldn't you?" His counter was perfect.

"I'd be more surprised if I didn't." Pansy paused when she was brought to a sudden stop. Her eyes sought out the sign; it was one before a bookstore which she'd thought to be their destination. "La Fudgerie?"

Harry nodded, and then, with a nervousness that'd started to grow, he tugged at the collar of his shirt.

"I thought you might like it," he explained, his nervousness turning to a shyness. "D'you like chocolate? Or, well, do you like sweets?"

More oft than not neither she nor many other Witches in Slytherin partook of them with any type of frequency... but with that said, she had a love of chocolate greater than most, and if the smell that'd drifted from the shop was any indication, this shop would be no exception.

"I'm not going to say no." Pansy smiled at him and gave a tug of that hand he'd taken hold of. Not that she didn't find his shyness endearing, Pansy wished for him to stand tall and proud and certain.

Pansy's words and the sweet look she'd given him seemed to bolster him. That hand slipped from hers, and instead, wrapped 'round her waist, and then he led them right on in, pushing open the door and keeping it open until they were fully inside.

Her perfect gentleman.

Pansy couldn't imagine the last time that she'd been inside a store like this. A few of her cousins, her aunts and her uncles had frequented shops such as these, but with her mother's opinion on witches that weren't 'naturally beautiful', her father's similar stance, and her grandfather's insistence on keeping her as 'skinny' as possible, she'd been barred from them.

But with Harry, she had no such issues to keep her away.

With Harry, she could be whomever she wanted, and she could do what her heart desired... she grinned deviously then.

"Harry?"

He turned his head and met her gaze. "Hm?"

Pansy rose up on the tips of her toes, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. "You're wonderful." With nothing else to add, she sent him a teasing look, and tore off towards the fudge at the far end of the shop.

Harry got out a 'Pans' and made after her.

How fun it was, to play with him.

Darkness had settled over Hogsmeade, signalling the beginning of the end of their trip.

Pansy would readily admit it'd been the greatest one that she'd ever had, and it was all thanks to Harry. Her Harry. He'd taken her from shop to shop, on a long walk, and had spent no small amount of Galleons in buying her various treats, despite her words of protest. Mother and Father gave her a generous allowance, enough so that she could've gotten all that she wanted herself, and yet, Harry'd not allowed her.

"You're going to spoil me," she chided, even as she cuddled close to his side and rested her head upon his shoulder.

Harry wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer still, and then, his chin came to rest atop her head. "That's sorta the idea, innit?"

She couldn't see him, but she was certain he had that lopsided grin of his plastered on his face.

"Well, I suppose I'll allow it." She snuggled deeper into him. "You'll not see me off immediately, will you? I'd spend what remains of our evening together before a hearth."

Pansy had no doubt the warmth from the fire and his arms would see her sleeping easily, and with Harry, there wasn't so much as a hint of worry. No pranks would be pulled on her, nothing improper would occur; if anything, he was likely to fall asleep right alongside her.

They'd just have to make sure the door to the classroom they chose was firmly closed and locked, and a ward placed so as to alert them if anyone neared.

"I won't. Was kinda hoping we could do that, actually."

Pansy's lips quirked into a smile. "Perfect."

And less than twenty minutes later, that was where the pair were; in their old, empty, modified classroom with a fire going, the door closed and warded, and a couch placed a comfortable distance from the hearth.

She'd taken Harry's sweater, and the oversized garment was far comfier than she'd imagined.

Pansy's eyelids had already grown heavy.

"I could fall asleep like this," she admitted as she cuddled even closer to Harry, her body resting atop his as he reclined against the couch.

"Go ahead," he murmured.

His fingers were in her hair, toying with it in a manner that had her melting.

She was supposed to be the one paying him back for the date, and if not that, then easing his mind from the many worries the second task likely caused.

Instead, she was the one receiving attention and affection to the utmost degree.

Mayhaps it was for all the glares she'd sent whilst on their date — not to Harry, of course, but to all those Witches that'd looked on with jealousy. It'd been much to perfect a date for any of those hags to ruin.

"G'night." Harry's whispered word only just registered on her sleepy mind.

And the kiss that followed, soft and pressed ever so fleetingly against her forehead, the last thing she felt before rest took her.

Chapter Text

March 23, 1995

Pansy rolled over and blew, her long hair flowing out as she did so. It took one more puff of air, and then, her vision was restored in its entirety.

Finally, she thought as her eyes, bleary from just rising, looked into the depths across from her. There were all sorts of fish swimming around, some in schools and others in nought but small groups or even on their own. Shells of a type that didn't particularly interest her were present too, and all throughout the bottom was plant life that'd always interested her.

No, interest wasn't the right word; admired, maybe. The beauty of nature was simple, very simple, but that didn't make her enjoy it any less. In fact, she'd go so far as to say it was one thing amongst few that she truly enjoyed witnessing. Many a ball or Ministry event could be done away with, in her opinion — walks among gardens would do well to replace them.

Pansy yawned and rolled over, her head falling into the cloud-like pillow with her hair splaying out atop it. She was half-tempted to stay in bed for another few hours until it was the afternoon at the very least. That'd be beyond fine by her understanding, for the weekend existed for one to rest and recover… and mayhaps steal away a glass of wine and platter of snacks.

I'd sell Draco if it meant returning home for a week, Pansy thought mournfully. It'd be a fair trade on her end now that she'd replaced Malfoy, by and large, with Harry. I suppose I shouldn't go and make an enemy of him if I needn't do so. I can't help but wonder what he'll try and do once a decision's been made within his mind, dull as it is.

In truth, she'd been waiting for Draco to act since the first rumour of her and Harry spending more time than necessary together had spread. Such was her reasoning for reinforcing her friendship with Daphne, Tracey and Millicent, in addition to having the support of her cousins, the Carrows; Zabini and a few in the year below her were sitting on the fence as well. Each person she ensured 'backed' her, so to say, meant one less person for Draco to try and use against her.

If he would. There was still the chance that he'd change and become like Harry, like a gentleman. Draco, Morgana dare she say it, could stand to learn a thing or two from Potter. The thought of saying as much to Draco's face forced a smile, especially when she imagined his pale visage going red as he seethed with rage. It'd be very amusing, the more she thought about it.

Eventually, Pansy shook aside the covers of her bed and peeled back the rest of her bed's curtains as she finally made to stand. Potter would likely be expecting her in three, perhaps four hours, and that wasn't to mention that she'd promised to spend at least a portion of her Hogsmeade time with Daphne, Tracey and Millicent, each of whom she wanted to reinforce relationships with.

Would that she could stay in bed until the afternoon had come. That'd be pleasant.

Ah well, I'll have an early night, Pansy thought as a change of clothes was summoned toward her person. Casual would be fitting for my venture with the others. I'd not imagine Harry would dress up all that much either. He and the company he keeps all too often stay dressed just a step beyond the Muggles.

"-rkinson hasn't risen yet, so I'd say you have time to shower, Daph."

The voice belonged to Tracey, who herself was tired-sounding. Millicent wasn't present, Pansy found as she turned the corner to see the room in nearly its entirety. Daphne and Tracey, however, were; the former was plucking item after item from a trunk — one of many the Greengrass girl owned — whilst her constant companion was reclined across the entirety of one of the four couches at the front of the dorm. Atop Tracey's head was a winter hat of Muggle design that earned a second glance when it registered to Pansy.

I can only imagine the words which others might say, Pansy thought as a scant few seconds of unease went through her; the thought of Muggle items in Slytherin at all would do as much.

"I commend you on your use of the word yet, Davis," Pansy said a second or so before the eyes of the other two girls found her. "You can shower, Daphne. I'll probably do much the same in a few minutes — tea?"

Daphne nodded in the direction of the first table on the right, and a few feet from the first couch on the very same side. It was a sort of ritual, one might say, that being to have tea and other light snacks in their dorms whenever they rose. Slytherin had its well-deserved benefits.

"I'll go and do so now. Bulstrode's in the Great Hall, so you're aware," Daphne had added the latter part of her sentence after a few steps toward the exit of their dorm, the comment earning a nod of recognition from Pansy before Greengrass completed her departure.

That left Pansy and Tracey, and maybe another witch in their year based on the canopy of one bed remaining completely closed off.

Lucky, Pansy thought spitefully, and before she turned her attention back over to Tracey. "You're tired as well, are you?"

"Yup!"

Pansy nearly winced at Tracey's happy and emphatic response; it was far louder and more energy-filled than her previous words. "Tea?"

"Please and thank you, with three sugar cubes on top," Tracey responded.

"Wh—"

"Inside," Tracey said quickly whilst stopping Pansy mid-word. "I thought it'd sound better — it's a saying, believe me."

"If you have to claim it's a saying, it's probably not a saying," it was Daphne again, the blonde witching returning in seconds since the time of her departure. "And before any of you inquire as to the reason of my return, suffice to say—" she summoned something into her hands "—I forgot my tertiary bar of soap."

Pansy blinked when she heard those words and immediately, and without thinking, looked at Tracey. Much to her surprise, Tracey was looking at her too, and then, after a few seconds of that shared look, Tracey was the first to break. She turned away from Pansy, rose a hand to garner Daphne's attention, and upon having it, spoke.

"What d'ya need three bars of soap for, you onion?"

Now, typically whensoever a joke was told, it was polite to demurely raise one's hand and let loose girlish giggles. That'd been taught to her by her parents, both her mother and her father, for various reasons. By this time, even amongst companions, it'd be expected.

With all of that said, Pansy laughed. It was a deep, full-bellied laughter that was joined a second or so later by laughter from Daphne, albeit a shorter burst and not quite as loud as Pansy's; Tracey, meanwhile, was grinning happily and nodding to herself as if she'd just been praised by Snape.

For once, she figured she'd give it to Davis. There certainly were few parties funnier than she.

"If you continue to use this new nickname of yours, Tracey, then I'll be forced to make one of my own, for you. I'm certain I might prove able to drudge up a memory or two," Daphne said, her voice threatening, but teasingly so too — Pansy recognised the former quality might not be totally in jest.

There was certainly not one person alive who'd wish to be called 'Onion' by their companions. Least of all a person that put so much pride and work into their looks, and Daphne much like Pansy, was one such person.

Not entirely, as I understand it. I'd never go so far as to use three different soaps all in the hopes of creating some sort of perfect combination. That's entirely too much work for a witch to do when most wizards won't be sniffing them — not the normal ones. Weasleys and other such creatures might.

"Fine, fine, I'll stop calling you an onion," Tracey answered with raised hands, the universal sign of surrender. "…You smell good if it's any consolation?"

Daphne sighed, scooched a few inches away from the other girl, and moved to look out of the carriage window.

Pansy's lips rose, but she remained quiet, as did Millicent; she'd come to join them back in the dorms when thirty minutes had come and gone and none of them had found her in the Great Hall. It was Millicent who was sat beside Pansy on the carriage, while Greengrass and Davis sat across from them. Thankfully, they'd managed to secure a carriage for nought but the four of them despite the crowds gathered to head to Hogsmeade.

Mayhaps a bit of nepotism had helped that along, and a healthy exchange of a few Galleons, but in the words of her father, Galleons made the world go round. In some ways, Pansy agreed with the saying.

"So… Pansy?" Tracey started off, her tone immediately arousing suspicion by the girl in question.

"Tracey?" Pansy asked back, her eyes narrowing at the shifty expression on Davis' face.

"I was thinking since it's just the four of us and we're all aware of what you're doing — have you kissed Potter yet?" Tracey continued even as Daphne's head whipped around and Pansy's mouth went slack. Even Bulstrode's attention, which had previously been diverted to the outside world much like Daphne's, found its way back into the carriage.

"That's not an appropriate question," Daphne said, being the first to speak as she chided Tracey.

Pansy watched Tracey's face fall at Daphne's response. For some reason, that seemed to make a bit of pity rise up; it had to be Potter's influence. Normally, she'd not feel an ounce of remorse at such a nosy question being pushed aside. Mayhaps it was the thought of enforcing her claim over Harry too — there was certainly no shortage of witches that'd like to try and sink their dirty hands into him.

Hands that'd probably never seen so much as a single manicure, if one could imagine such a horrible fate.

"I've shared a kiss with him twice over," Pansy blurted out, the words fueling her confidence. When Tracey gasped and looked back at her, that confidence reached a peak.

If only Pansy would have known the line of questioning such an answer would incur. In hindsight, she'd probably not have spoken up; were she even more clever, she'd have remembered that Tracey was the witch to beat when it came to romance novels. One need simply take a peek into her satchel to realise just how infatuated the witch was with the idea of boundless love.

Pansy much preferred the sad tales of romance. Ones wherein the wizard was cruelly kept away from the witch of his dreams, or where the wizard was forced away to fight, only to return deceased to his lover, their love never again to shine as it once had. Those were perfect… until she'd begun to feel differently towards a specific wizard.

Those books and tales of romance then begin to make her feel entirely too sad.

"... say that and then go silent! That's horrible of you!" Tracey said as she leaned forward, her hands grabbing Pansy's as she shot her best look of pleading at the latter girl. "Please! Just tell me if he's charming, if he's awkward, if he's shy — please!"

Pansy's brows furrowed as she looked betwixt Tracey the barmy, and Daphne. That look of confusion would soon find itself remedied when Greengrass spoke up and over Davis' pleading.

"Tracey has a… journal, and in that journal, she's written how she imagines each wizard might act as a boyfriend. Correction, almost every wizard, there remains some she'll not add to the journal," Daphne paused, seemingly to remember something as she nodded to herself, and then she resumed speaking. "If I recall correctly, and I believe I do, I think her notes list Harry as gallant, polite and charming, but she worries he'd be shy or quiet."

Tracey's as strange as the Onion, I've come to find out, Pansy thought as she blinked at the revelation. Now, I can't help but wonder what Millicent's flaw is. Tracey's a hopeless romantic with a touch of strangeness, and Daphne's… well, I suppose strange might work again.

"Harry's very kind, and now, I believe we've reached—" the carriage halted, thank Morgana, "—the end of our journey. Milly, the door, please."

Millicent did as Pansy asked, and shortly thereafter, the group of four found themselves toward the centre of Hogsmeade. There were dozens of new shops, the majority temporary and renting structures or using tents, but some seemed like they'd be around to stay; there seemed to be a few new buildings that'd seemingly appeared overnight as well. Mayhaps Hogsmeade would grow to be as large as her parents had oft remarked it was, Pansy certainly would love to have a wider range of shops to visit.

"Are we fancying breakfast first?" Pansy asked, her eyes finding those of each of the other girls one after the next.

"Someplace French?" Tracey asked.

"I'd enjoy something French or Nordic," Daphne added.

Naturally, the two that'd spoken and Pansy sought out Millicent for her opinion.

"I don't care."

Pansy looked between Daphne and Tracey after such a response, and then she nodded for the others to follow her. "French, then," she said to the others. "I believe I've heard of at least one place that adds chocolate to their pastries."

"What about a pastry made from chocolate? That'd be tasty," Tracey looked around for support.

"That'd just be chocolate."

Daphne crushed the other girl's dream of a chocolate-only pastry brutally.

Pansy couldn't contain a giggle, Tracey couldn't contain a pout, and all the while the four walked to the French restaurant that already lay within the boundaries of their sight. It was an easy thing to tell; Pansy knew the day wouldn't be boring.

Over the course of an hour, Pansy and her companions had shared a meal — one rife with chocolate-filled pastries amongst other good food — gone shopping, sat to watch birds atop a pond of water, and finally, found another shop in which they found their interest piqued.

"No."

Pansy looked at Daphne, the girl who had said aloud the only word spoken.

"But, Daphne… " Tracey whined as she pushed out her bottom lip and folded her arms. "It's a souvenir shop! Think about when you're old, grey and have great-grandchildren. You'll prolly have more wrinkles than the Headmaster, so you'll want pieces like that for memor—"

Abruptly, Tracey stopped speaking. There wasn't so much as a warning before that happened, and as such, naturally, Pansy was inquisitive as to what had just occurred. In less than a few seconds of looking, the answer was immediate. Daphne's wand was out, there'd been the faintest hint of light having just pulsed through its tip, and then, it was returned up her sleeve.

That was impressive. Pansy had barely so much as seen Daphne move in the corner of her eye before that'd all happened and Tracey was forced into silence. Maybe having onion-girl was a good thing when she was that fast.

"My hand slipped," Daphne said innocently, and as she began pulling Tracey away from the shop, the others then following after the two as they started back toward a restaurant they'd just passed by.

Tracey tapped Daphne's mouth, her pout still on her face, for all the good it did her.

"My mouth slipped too," Daphne said, that innocence still about her until she rolled her eyes, withdrew her wand as she'd previously done, and tapped it to Tracey's mouth. "No talking about me being old, grey and wrinkled, you bint — you know I hate thinking about that."

"You have to teach me how you do that so fast then. I never get to silence you," Tracey folded her arms. "Cheater."

Millicent answered before Greengrass could. "Be faster."

Pansy supposed those two words, simple as they were, had a bit of truth in them.

From there, the three bickered back and forth — good-naturedly — until they were at that restaurant or rather, pub, aforementioned as it was. Unlike the previous place they'd eaten at, this one wasn't French or new. It was a classic, the Three Broomsticks; the place every Hogwarts student would visit once a year, minimum.

It was a touch rustic for the group, but it was familiar and possessed comfort food. After the cacophony of French dishes, some of which were beyond the tastes which Pansy typically enjoyed, the change would be most welcome.

"I don't know how you manage it, Tracey, but here we are," Daphne said as she gestured around the familiar wooden interior of the pub. It had a thin layer of smoke from a group of older men drawing from pipes, and beyond that, the scent of food and smells of various perfumes and colognes from the many people near their age within.

It was the most popular place prior to the huge influx of people, after all.

"It's tradition," Tracey all but stressed as she led the way through the crowd, over to a table near the back that was, thankfully, devoid of others. "Daph and I have come here just about every Hogsmeade trip. She always says it'll be the last time, but we always make it! Oh, and they have cookies this time… mmmmm, butterscotch."

Butterscotch was quite pleasant.

"There," it was Millicent that spoke. "Silence."

Pansy, admittedly, took a second to understand what Bulstrode meant. Once she did, she felt like a fool. It was painstakingly obvious. With nought but a wave of her wand and the muttering of an incantation, the previous noises, loud and many as they'd been, were gone.

"Quick as ever," Daphne commented.

"Somebody's got to keep up with it."

Pansy snorted at Bulstrode's remark.

"Well? Time to get to the gossip, right?" it was Tracey that asked that as she looked around the table conspiratorially. "Daph, you go first. Tell Pansy and Milly about Draco—" Tracey looked at Pansy and Millicent then "— it's sweet by his standards, but he's still an idiot with too many Galleons."

Daphne rolled her eyes, and then she rolled her head in a similar fashion so as to look at Pansy and Milly without wasting any effort. "Draco said he'll be winning your 'heart' back post-haste. He seems convinced you're simply lashing out at him for one reason or another, he even went so far as to claim his father had said much the same to him about witches in general."

Pansy could and probably should have been miffed, but, she wasn't. If Draco was concerned with trying to win her back, something that'd be incredibly difficult to do, it'd mean he'd more than likely not do anything too idiotic.

She could work with that. At least until he grew wise… that might take until the following year.

"He's as stupid as ever," Millicent remarked without any beating around the bush. That'd always been her way. "Well? Pansy? Do those words fill you with joy or hope?"

"Worry, if anything," Daphne remarked. "I'd be cross if I had Draco constantly around me, hovering. I can only imagine the horror."

Pansy nodded at that. If the words which Daphne had overheard were true, Pansy was in for quite an annoying time ahead.

"Now that's over, why don't we talk about the tale of Ser May'Dae the Bold and Princess Selene? It's amazing," Tracey gushed.

Immediately, Pansy's attention drifted elsewhere as the girl went on and on about romance after romance, and from there, to the love lives of their classmates, of Daphne — much to Pansy's amusement when Greengrass narrowed her eyes threateningly enough for Tracey to change topics — of their Professors, and finally, chocolate.

By the time that last topic was coming around, the four were rising from their seats to head out, two hours having come and gone since first they'd arrived.

"You're not joining us?"

"Of course, she's not, she's probably promised her time to Potter. I wish I'd have a wizard come along, impress me, woo me enough to become docile as Pansy is and finally, get me every type of sweet imaginable — could you imagine?"

"No."

Pansy finally got the chance to interject in the conversation after Daphne's one-word answer regarding Tracey's question. Speaking of the latter witch, Pansy'd have to have words with her soon. She wasn't docile, not in the slightest.

Potter had simply gotten into her mind enough that she no longer desired to trip, run off or otherwise glare at most other people. Between him and the Carrows, they'd really gotten her out of her shell.

"I've promised a meal and walk to him. I'd be horrible if I stood him up," Pansy looked around Hogsmeade and, failing to see him where they'd come in from, looked back at her friends. "And the three of you? What'll you be doing once you've returned to Hogwarts?"

"Sleeping." Tracey's answer was immediate and honest. Pansy didn't have a doubt in her mind that the other girl would be doing just that, especially when she kept resting a hand on her belly; she'd packed away much and more in terms of foodstuffs.

Daphne snorted, the sound amusing to Pansy who covered that behind a cough.

"I'll be taking a nap before I touch upon my potions notes. I'm not pleased with my marks and Professor Snape's given me the chance to redo our most recent potion," answered Millicent. Her answer seemed equally as honest as Tracey's.

As for Daphne, when Pansy looked at her, the girl simply shrugged before speaking. "I'll decide once I've returned. What I do depends on whether or not Tracey's able to fall asleep — if she can't, which I imagine will be the case after all the sugar she's consumed, I imagine we'll be walking the perimeter of the lake as we've done before."

"Awww, you're already thinking about walking with me and I haven't even pestered you once. I really have grown on you," Tracey cooed as she reached out and pinched at Daphne's cheeks, the latter girl swatting incessantly at her hand as a cat might when one tried to pet it without permission.

"You've not grown on me, you've worn me down," Daphne said with a huff as she finally stepped away from Tracey's searching hands. "We'll see you back in the—" Daphne slapped away one of Tracey's hands that grew too close "—dormitory, Parkinson."

At that, the three other Slytherin witches finally departed, leaving Pansy alone.

That wasn't the case for very long, for before too long passed, Pansy noticed something queer, and something that caused an uneasy feeling to form in her stomach. One that gradually grew to be, perhaps, a touch angry as well.

Pansy crept closer to the duo she'd initially spotted, and as stealthily as she could manage. It was Harry and Granger, and the two were coming back from a path that led to the outskirts of Hogsmeade. So far as Pansy could tell with a quick glance sent beyond the two Gryffindors, there was precious little of interest out that way.

That caused that earlier feeling of unease to well up again. It reminded her of when Draco would avoid her and instead, focus his time on other witches back when he'd been running other wizards away from her; his family name and the people who had his back too much for most to want to compete with, or draw wrath from.

Pansy took another few steps closer, her body shielded by way of a tree and a portion of a building. By this point, she could just make out what the two were discussing.

"... he looked tired. I hope he's not doing this at his own expense," Harry said, the initial part of his sentence lost on Pansy.

"I'm sure he knows what he's doing, Harry," Hermione answered. "Don't you have someplace to be off to now — I thought I remembered you saying as much."

Harry brought up his wand and cast the Tempus charm, alerting him to the time; Pansy spied him doing so and found out for herself just how late the hour had gotten. She'd spent a bit more time with her friends than she'd planned to, but Harry seemed to have done much the same, so she was vindicated in that regard.

"I do," Harry exclaimed, his eyes going back to Hermione. "Thanks, 'Mione — see you back in the Tower, yeah?"

As he finished saying those words, he reached out and hugged the Muggleborn girl. Pansy was careful to watch the embrace, but, she was pleased to see that it looked platonic. That meant Granger wouldn't be a rival that she'd need to look out for. How splendid was that?

"See you there, Harry," Hermione said, taking a few steps away before she turned to look over her shoulder and address Harry before he left. "Please, do try and stay out of trouble with Parkinson. I'm sure she's lovely, but Draco and the others certainly aren't."

Pansy rolled her eyes at the words of warning. Draco would remain a non-problem for the foreseeable future, a wondrous thing in and of itself; when added to the fact that the most outspoken in Slytherin wouldn't move forward without him, it turned perfect. Pansy was free to spend her time as she pleased, thus strengthening her bonds outside of her own small and exclusive circle.

The Carrow brats had been right, Pansy huffed. I'll make sure to shower them with gifts come Yule. Mayhaps I'll even introduce them to Harry. I can only imagine the number of questions they might have for him.

There were words said betwixt Harry and Hermione that Pansy hadn't caught on account of her own thoughts and the quietness in which they'd been spoken. Whatever had been said had come and gone, much like Granger, but Harry had started off again. Pansy blinked, realising he was approaching rapidly where she found herself standing, and thus, she darted back behind the building.

From there, she looked around, found a shop, and entered it. When she took a cursory glance around the place, she found out that she'd entered another of the souvenir-type shops. From the floor to the wall and scattered around atop various tables, shelves or clothing racks, were various 'goods' one might wish to collect. Ironically enough, it was one such rack of clothes that Pansy found herself near upon entering, and on the rack was clothing the colours of Gryffindor. None of them carried Harry's name, but it was obvious whom they were in reference to.

Whosoever had thought of doing so was quite business-minded too, Pansy would admit. They'd get away without needing to pay anybody else for the clothing, and if people wished to do so, they could add Harry's name to the back of it simply enough.

Pansy shook her head and stepped out… and Harry almost instantly found her. He was standing amidst others along the main road, his head scanning the area, looking for her, she imagined.

Harry made his way over to her in a couple of dozen steps, not calling out until he was closer to her so as to avoid drawing attention to them. "Hey," he greeted, now standing a foot or so across from her. "I was running a bit late, sorry. There was something I had to take care of that went a bit longer than I was expecting it to."

"That's fine," Pansy said, not all that bothered by his being slightly tardy. "It gave me the chance to visit with my friends longer than I otherwise would have — you're dressed quite well today too."

She looked him up and down, and much to her surprise, she found he was wearing more wizarding-like garments than those of the Muggle design. Maybe it could be claimed that he was wearing a fusion of the two; she certainly spied the fact that his outermost layer was enchanted. As for his typically messy hair, that was stored safely under a warm-looking hat.

He'd done quite well; the past him would be put to shame, easily.

"Thanks. I thought I'd try something on that I'd been sent by family," Harry patted down the outermost layer which she'd referenced earlier, his smile of greeting growing into something wider and even more charming. "I hadn't thought there'd be enchanted clothing, stupid that, isn't it?"

I could teach him so much, Pansy thought internally. Harry had learned bits and pieces of Magical culture from her in the time they'd spent together thus far, 'twas true, and the same could be said of her learning about the Muggle world, queer as that was. Even still, she'd not but touched the tip of the iceberg, so to say. There was much and more left for Harry to learn if he truly wanted to enjoy life in the Magical world; there was no doubt he'd come to love it either.

Maybe she'd allow him to take her to one of those Muggle films he'd talked about. As his reward, of course.

"Not remotely. Many don't learn until they come to Hogwarts. It's only… old families that tend to know early," Pansy had nearly said Purebloods, but she'd refrained from doing so out of respect for Harry. Undoubtedly, that was still a touchy topic on account of Granger and Draco. She clapped her hands together and spoke again. "Now, whereabouts are we headed?"

Harry took one last step and slid his arm through hers; that was one such nugget of information she'd given him that he'd always seemed to remember without issue or pause. After he looped their arms, he turned her slowly along with himself and started them off at a casual pace. There was plenty of time left for them at Hogsmeade, but all the same, Pansy felt impressed by his patience. All too often, Draco and the others would be running chaotically from place to place in all too boyish a way.

It was like they had no knowledge of respect or courtesies.

"I was thinking we'd go and have tea and whatever else you'd like to get warm. From there, I don't mind one way or another," Harry said, genuine-sounding and sweet.

Enough so that Pansy nearly cooed in response. Fortunately, she contained herself and affixed him with a smile. He truly was a wonderful boy, from his assistance to Fleur and recognition of Cedric's assistance to his manners and the deeds which he'd done throughout their joint time at Hogwarts.

I'll have to keep all of those other witches at bay.

"Tea and warmth sound wonderful," Pansy answered, and from there, the two walked in idle chatter.

They discussed the weather, the tournament, Fleur and Cedric, and the new relationship in which the four were connected, Hermione and those whom Harry called friends — he'd even mentioned her mother, the lasting memory of the woman in his mind, a positive one… thankfully.

As for the trip, it would go on to last nearly four hours. Throughout that time, similar or the same topics arose, new ones were found, they'd gone to eat and to shop, on walks and sat in benches overlooking much of Hogsmeade.

It made for one of Pansy's most precious days… not that she'd say as much to a soul.

May 27, 1995

Pansy was sitting along the shore of the lake with Harry, Fleur, Cedric, Cho and three other French Magicals; one of which was Fleur's little sister, when news of what happened and the commotion thereof reached them.

Initially, she and those with whom she was seated assumed the commotion a good distance away from where they were sat was on account of a fight that might have broken out or maybe an Acromantula or some other creature had come out. That was quickly put to rest when much of the crowd was dispersed at the behest of the Professors and Ministry staff who'd arrived within ten minutes.

"They wouldn't be there if they weren't needed," Cedric commented, his words more serious than she was used to hearing. Typically, many thought of him as a joker, but one that was kind-hearted and oft did his best to avoid confrontation or settle peacefully the fights of others. Even most of Slytherin didn't despise him.

"What do you think's happened?" the question belonged to Cho as the group continued watching the events unfold before their very eyes.

Nobody seemed to have a response. None that seemed to make sense, anyhow. Instead, they continued to watch as their peers grew nearer to them or went in other directions whilst the staff of Hogwarts or the Ministry began moving something that seemed covered.

The group wasn't left wondering for very long. Not when some of those who'd been dispersed from the crowd gradually found their way over to the trio of champions and the company thereof. Pansy moved closer to Harry and more towards the outskirts of the group as it enlarged, not wanting to be in the middle of so many people she wasn't familiar with.

"Really?"

Cedric asked with exclamation, a look of confusion that formed into a multitude of other expressions following shortly thereafter. Apparently, whatever claim that'd been made had been pretty outlandish.

The person that responded, Zacharius, Pansy believed, nodded and said it again, louder. "It was one of the Ministry men, Crouch Senior — he's dead," there arose hushed murmurs and exchanged looks as a result of those words, but Zacharius continued. "He'd come stumbling from the woods, somebody said. Apparently, he hadn't been able to speak or do much of anything, and when people ran off for a Professor to help, he was dead."

Pansy noticed then that a look was exchanged between Cedric, Fleur and Harry. All three of the Champions seemed to have a hint of nervousness flash through them.

"You're certain, Zach?" Cedric asked, the boy wanting further clarification.

Zacharius nodded, and then he rushed off elsewhere, his direction, Hogwarts. Like most Hufflepuffs, Pansy likened his doing so to the need of speaking the gossip first. If any needed to know the happenings of another person, you had simply to ask the overly-nosy Hufflepuffs. One might say there was one fact minimum to learn about somebody if you asked the right person.

Fleur coughed, even that sounding strangely soft and feminine. Pansy couldn't help but want to pout at how effortless it seemed for the French witch.

"We can go back to our carriage. It would be more calm, and safe," Fleur's eyes fell on Gabrielle for a fraction of a second before they returned to looking at the various faces of those gathered. It was evident the French witch was still cautious, worried even, for the safety of her sister.

There was an exchange of looks again, a collective of nods, and not more than five minutes later, a smaller group was within the confines of Fleur's room aboard the carriage. Pansy still found it fascinating, that being the magic that went into the work of the carriages — that wasn't to mention how envious she was of Fleur's ornate, expensive, grandiose-looking room.

It seemed a marvel of modern magic with a taste in fashion few would ever come to possess.

"It is strange, non?" Fleur asked once everybody was seated; Cedric, Harry, Pansy, Fleur and Gabrielle had been the ones brought into Fleur's room. "I did not think the tournament would be so dangerous after the comments of safety."

Harry looked like he was about to huff, but he didn't. "I'd say Hogwarts and the Ministry have a dodgy record when it comes to keeping promises on stuff like that. They've bungled a lot from what I've seen — no offence, Cedric. It's not your dad's fault."

"You're fine, mate," Cedric said with a wave of his hand as if that hadn't so much as been a possibility. "Harry's right, anyhow. The Ministry or I guess you could say the Minister and the Wizengamot, aren't very good at their jobs."

Fleur seemed put out by that, but a beaming smile soon returned as she looked betwixt Harry and Cedric. "It is a good thing we have decided to make peace then, non? With only one task, we are able to look out for one another. Victoire does not matter to me."

Cedric seemed to agree with that readily enough, as did Harry. Each of the two boys seemed more focused on their safety and that of their friends than the thousand-Galleon reward. Eternal glory wasn't much of a reward either, least of all if you died without so much as earning the title.

"We could meet a bit more often to come up with plans for the third task," Cedric suggested suddenly. "I know we intrude from time to time on Harry's time with the lovely Miss Parkinson—" Cedric bowed to her with a gracious smile "—but it'd definitely make sure we know how to work together. Think of it like Quidditch practice, yeah? You've got to know what your teammates are capable of if you wanna win on the pitch."

Leave it to wizards to turn something as serious as safety into something Quidditch-related, Pansy thought with a muted sigh. I wonder what Ha—

"Cedric's got a good point," Harry said then, interrupting Pansy's train of thought whilst answering the exact question she'd just about been ready to pose to herself. "It'd be good if we practised together to know what we can do. Maybe we could come up with some plans too. We already know some of the tricks they've used so far."

And thus, thenceforth until the sun began to set, the trio of Champions as well as Pansy began to converse about a variety of topics, all of which were related to the tournament. There was nearly a month left or thereabout when it came time for the final task to come; plenty of time, in other words, remained for the Champions to utilise.

Pansy and Harry each were on their way back to Hogwarts proper. Cedric had left ahead of them by nearly ten minutes, saying something about Cho and how he'd made plans to eat with her when she'd left their initial group earlier on in the day.

"It's still strange seeing so many people around, isn't it?" Harry asked in passing as they walked past a group of four. "It'll be even stranger when all the Durmstrang and Beauxbaton students are gone. I reckon I'll just about be getting used to them by the time they're leaving."

"I quite liked the peace and quiet sans their company, but I'd not be telling the complete truth if I claimed I'd not miss a few specific guests," Pansy responded. Fleur, a witch she'd initially felt much trepidation towards, had become a wonderful acquaintance. One that had a wealth of knowledge regarding fashion, cosmetic charms and even, on occasion, offered romantic advice.

Pansy would never have suspected Fleur to be similarly enraptured at the thought of romance in much the same way as Tracey. In a way, Pansy imagined it was Fleur's yearning for romance that wasn't correlated to her ancestry; it made her feel sorry for her fellow witch.

"Cedric will be gone next year too, and then Quidditch will be all too easy without him," Harry said wistfully.

"I'm sure you'll manage."

Harry grinned at her. It looked like he was up to no good, but he was Harry. She doubted he'd so much as cursed once in his left, let alone broken a myriad of rules much like how Draco operated. If she was wrong, she'd just about eat her favourite pair of shoes, heels and all.

The two entered Hogwarts proper, the halls alight with torch light then and lacking the windy, cold quality of the outdoors. Immediately, Pansy sighed as she felt the heat that resonated within those aforementioned halls; she'd grow cold again, she knew, but that change of temperature was deliriously blissful.

"Only one more task," Harry remarked suddenly. He looked at her then, the noise of the stairways ahead reaching them as they moved further. "Have I said thanks for all the help you've given me? Without you and 'Mione, I don't think I'd have done quite so well."

Pansy's response came before she'd even thought of it, her mind seemingly speaking of its own volition. "You needn't thank me. We're quite close."

"How close?"

That response of his made her blink. They'd gone on a date, she'd kissed his cheek… Pansy thought of her parents and how might they react, and then she looked around. In the passage with her and Harry, was not so much as one other soul. In other words, they were completely alone.

Pansy looked at Harry, her eyes lingering on his lips, and as if magic itself moved them, the two seemed closer. The heat of the torches seemed more intense, the orange light they gave almost causing Harry to glow as her head raised and his lowered, and then…

Contact. Pansy's lips found those of Harry's, and slowly, tentatively, the two began to kiss. It was a first true kiss for her, and she imagined, a first for Harry if the lack of rumours proved true. As she drew nearer, her fists balling up the fabric of his shirt as she smelled the cologne he'd put on earlier in the day, she couldn't help but take greater notice of him.

He was larger than her, his body more firm-feeling and his jaw, sharper. Much sharper. Even his lips felt rougher when compared to the smooth, soft flesh of hers.

They pulled apart then, Pansy's eyes meeting Harry's.

And then they met again, in the privacy of a dank, musky and long-abandoned classroom.

June 5, 1995

Pansy had just exited the Slytherin common room and turned around when she felt the presence of another person. In an instant, she spun around to see who might have just appeared behind her, but her hackles needn't rise when she saw them; her cousins. They were silent as ever.

"Flora, Hestia," Pansy said, her tone steady even if her heart rate was up. "You rose earlier than I thought you might."

"We were worried."

"There was talk of a conversation to be had with you."

The pair finished in unison. "Breakfast?"

Pansy blinked at them. She hadn't heard of any conversation to be had with her. "Who was supposed to be speaking with me?" she started walking after posing the question, her destination, the Great Hall, for the breakfast which her cousins had just mentioned.

"Your previous love interest," said Hestia.

"He was very specific that soon, he'd converse with you," Flora continued.

As before, they finished together. "You'd see the errors of your ways and stop spending additional time with Potter."

Pansy was momentarily focused on their unity; it'd always been what creeped Pansy out regarding the pair. It was almost as if they were one person with two bodies, such was their chemistry. Then again, Pansy didn't have a twin, nor any siblings for that matter. She wasn't quite sure how siblings worked.

After rethinking their final words, Pansy looked at them with a thoughtful expression on her face. "When was this said?"

"Yesterday," Hestia answered.

"In the late evening. You were already asleep, otherwise, we would have spoken with you," Flora elaborated as they stopped, one on either side of her. "You would be wise to stay near Greengrass and the others, or us."

"Quite wise," Hestia murmured; each was especially serious, the expressions they wore made that clear enough.

"I'll keep that in mind — my thanks cousins," Pansy gave a polite, familial smile to each, and then resumed their walking. The silence after Pansy's words lasted for not more than a few seconds before the twins broke it.

"Did your father write to you about Defense?"

"We were told to avoid detentions and request mediation should we earn one."

The two looked at her in tandem. "You should do the same," they told her.

Pansy furrowed her brows but nodded slowly nonetheless. The Carrows were much like her father was. They believed in the old ways which meant doing away with much of the new, people included. If a warning was given to the Carrows regarding Mad-Eye Moody, then Pansy would follow that same warning on the minimal chance there was something off about him.

Caution and perceptiveness were very important.

"Is there anything more to offer than that, or simply the warning?" Pansy inquired. If that was all, the warning was fine on its own… but the chance to gleam more information should always be taken when available. Mayhaps there was something useful therein for her to take advantage of, and if not her, Harry.

"We're unsure of what the issue is."

Even they don't know. Interesting, Pansy thought with a raise of her eyebrows. It was a rare day indeed when the Carrow twins were without information. That reputation's persisted since the time of their grandmother, Corene. They claim there's nothing she doesn't know.

"If all goes well, we'll not find out either, is that right?" Pansy would imagine it was. Her, wrong? Never.

"Correct," Hestia answered.

Flora nodded.

The trio continued on in relative silence save for the sound of rain, forceful and fast, impacting the various windows they passed by. Outside, a storm was raging that remained invisible to those in Slytherin; the view underwater never changed save for the inhabitants that swam by. That silence continued up the staircase, through the first two halls, and ended only when a portrait made a particularly loud noise that echoed through enough halls to make whatever had been said, unintelligible.

"I wish they'd take them all down," Pansy said aloud and with a huff. That sudden, loud noise had startled her. How obnoxious and discourteous did one have to be?

Neither of the Carrows said anything, one — Hestia — had her lips rise into a smirk whilst Flora looked out the nearest window as they passed it. As Pansy recalled, she too enjoyed it when it stormed out. There was something so calming about nature when it was at work.

"Whe—" Pansy began, but she stopped, her eyes narrowing reflexively as she took in the trio of wizards at the end of the hall she and the Carrows had just turned down.

There, loitering and speaking to one another with varying looks of impatience on their faces, were Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. Pansy couldn't help but glance at her cousins again; they'd been right, as always.

Whensoever I go into politics, I'll have to ensure I take them with me. It'd be so very easy to have them at my side, Pansy mused internally. Those thoughts, far-fetched as some might say they were, weren't entirely outside the realm of reason either. She was the sole Parkinson in the main branch of her generation. There'd be a few allowances made out of respect for her family name alone.

"There!" Crabbe grunted as he pushed himself off the wall he'd been leaning on to point out Pansy and the Carrows.

Goyle followed suit, the two boys going to either side of Draco with their arms folded. Each seemed to have eaten a fair bit already too, if the crumbs on their clothing and the large, bulbous shape of their stomachs were anything to go by. Pansy couldn't help it when her upper lip twitched of its own accord.

Crabbe and Goyle have Purebloods a bad name regardless of the Purebloods in question. Without manners, without courtesies, without thought… the two weren't deserving of their blood, much less the title wizard. That wasn't a recent thought either, that was one in which she'd had in her mind for a very long time. Depending on the conversation that would soon play out, mayhaps those words might finally be spoken aloud.

I like my chances with Flora and Hestia by my side, Pansy thought cynically as she eyed up the three approaching wizards.

Draco, finally opening his mouth to speak, she had to say didn't look quite as angry or red as she thought he might. As she'd heard before, maybe he truly did think she was simply playing him by using Potter. It'd given them a large amount of time apart sans consequences, but now, she supposed, that grace period so to speak, was over.

"Pansy," Draco said, his voice even, but forceful. He drew his confidence from the two overly large boys beside him. "I'm aware of what you've been doing. You've been aware that I've been aware — it ends today. You'll not spend so much as another minute with Potter unless you're forced together in class. I'll go and get you a dress or whatever, you've gotten your way," when he finished, his last comment especially, he seemed more dismissive than anything else.

That bothered her more than if he'd simply finished with his demand. Had he finished with that demand alone, Pansy would have simply moved along. It might have taken her a few seconds to decide to do so on account of what it meant, but she probably wouldn't have needed the extra nudge he'd given her by way of attempting to buy her.

"I'll not be agreeing to your terms, Draco," Pansy said, her eyes staring into his, intense and firm. "My time is my own; only I decide who it's spent with, and in what quantities. I'll not be bought or bartered for."

Pansy wouldn't humour him further. Even with the two great big goons on either side of them, there was plenty of space in the hallway left for her and the Carrows to traverse. Thus, Pansy continued to stare him down as she and her cousins manoeuvred around them; Draco, for his part, remained silent, clearly perplexed.

When they were a few dozen steps away, essentially standing where Draco and his followers had just been, that perplexion finally seemed to give way to anger. He turned, the action drawing Pansy's attention in the event that he or the others were stupid enough as to reach for their wands, and when he did so, she took note of how red his face seemed to be.

Anger had replaced his confusion, which was readily apparent. "You'll regret this, Pansy," his eyes flickered beyond her too, but he didn't speak again as he turned and left with sans another look.

"He'll be writing home."

"We'll do the same."

Hestia and Flora turned Pansy, and continued their march to the Great Hall, speaking again. "You should do so as well," they said together.

"I'll have to. Father will hear from Lucius before me if I don't go and do so post-haste," Pansy said. changing course to the owlery, where she'd quickly put words to parchment. At the very least, her mother would back her, and doing so would force her father into doing so as well, begrudgingly as it might be.

All of this trouble for relationships with those outside of Slytherin. Were Slytherin House not so few in number and clearly faltering, the decision might have been far more difficult to make, Pansy said to herself.

That was nothing but the truth as well. She'd seen the pictures her mother and father kept stored away, she'd seen the family trees of the past in comparison to those of today. Not but five or six decades ago, there were nearly thrice as many Purebloods; one might also note that those in Slytherin were oft rude, egregiously arrogant and recently, receiving the lowest marks in classes.

Harry far surpasses them all, Pansy thought vindictively, her mind comparing Draco and Harry, and in nearly every regard, Harry emerged victorious. Where he stumbled lay only in inheritance and deeds of land, a situation that might easily be remedied on account of his fame.

"Galleons."

"It's not happened yet."

"It will."

"Perhaps."

Pansy wasn't sure what her cousins were discussing, and as she made to walk into the Great Hall beside them, the trip to the owlery having been completed in short order, she didn't mind that fact. Undoubtedly, she'd missed a portion of the conversation, or it'd happened, by and large, without words needing to be said between them.

"Galleons."

It was the other twin that spoke this time, and right as Flora — Pansy was fairly certain it was Flora — made to speak, another person did.

"Morning, Pansy."

Slowly, her attention was diverted from her cousins and given to Harry; he wasn't alone either. Granger was at his side. Weasley was, still, noticeably absent. Mayhaps they'd still not completely settled the issue that'd arisen between them.

"Galleons, told you," that was Flora, the one that'd previously been about to speak, and her tone was as victorious-sounding as Pansy had ever heard before.

Hestia, without speaking, took out three Galleons and passed them to Flora. After the exchange, the pair glanced betwixt the newcomers and Pansy, and then made to sit at the end of Slytherin's table; their eyes remained on Pansy and Harry once they were seated and served.

Not even a farewell, Pansy pouted. "Good morning, Harry," her eyes moved beyond him, "Granger."

"Parkinson."

Harry's response was more enthusiastic as he drew closer to her, and hopeful too. They weren't within the confines of the Great Hall either, meaning they had far more privacy than if they had been.

"Do you fancy studying tonight with 'Mione and me?"

Pansy looked at Granger, who gave a slight nod. Her response came afterwards. "I'd not be opposed."

"Wicked," Harry exclaimed, he made to speak again, but his eyes narrowed and his lips shifted as the words he'd been about to speak, changed. When they were spoken, they hadn't been what she'd been expecting, and she was forced to turn and look at what earned such a look.

She wasn't surprised.

It was Draco, and behind him, the two brutes from earlier.

"Let's move over a bit," Harry said as he gestured to the hall that'd lead to a courtyard not far from where they were currently loitering; whilst he spoke, Harry's eyes remained on Malfoy and the others.

Pansy was rather glad of Harry's vigilance. Draco wouldn't be quite so stupid as to try anything with them together, especially near to the Great Hall, meaning Professors, as they were. Mayhaps seeing Pansy with Harry so soon after that confrontation would do him well too; she was his to order around no longer. The Carrows had finally gotten what she imagined their real wish had been all along.

In hindsight, and thinking back to the vast time she'd spent with Draco, he'd never truly been quite so important as others made him out to be. Were it nought for Snape, his potions marks would be lower — that was Draco's best mark too. He'd oft go on about that.

"Ron's going to steal your muffin," Granger warned, seemingly not overly bothered about Malfoy or the others even as they grew nearer, the entrance of the Great Hall, their destination. "Parkinson, did you have the astronomy map I'd asked for? As I said to you and Harry, I'll give you the constellation I've drawn the year prior for it."

Pansy nearly arched a brow at Granger's peculiar words, but she remained walking with the aforementioned girl and Harry. After another few steps, realisation dawned on her as to what Granger's intentions had been; the other witch was more clever than she'd initially thought, it would seem.

I'll keep that in mind, Pansy thought as she made to respond. "Obviously," she said haughtily, her nose raised.

Draco seemed to find some sort of amusement as he snorted, and then, he and the others were gone. Pansy didn't have to look over her shoulder to feel his lingering gaze as he departed. She could practically feel his eyes upon the entirety of her back.

"What's that about?" Harry asked, his brows furrowed as hers had nearly been.

Granger responded when Pansy looked at her, the other witch speaking as they turned a corner to loiter out of sight from the main entrance to the Great Hall. In doing so, they'd be able to avoid any further interactions with those they'd rather avoid, and prevent the nosy few from listening in; one Prophet article was bad enough as it was… Pansy idly wondered just what had happened in regard to that.

She'd have to write home again. Ah, Morgana, a second letter home in such a short amount of time. Pansy could already imagine what her parents might think.

"You caught on as quick as I'd expected," Granger said, the comment directed at Pansy as the latter witch finally finished speaking with Harry; mayhaps it'd been finished sooner too, but Pansy'd been so lost within her thoughts she'd hardly paid attention to the other witch's words.

"Speaking of expectations, you've just broken one I'd had about you — Granger, lying?" Pansy tutted, playfulness seeping into her tone, a tone that was, mayhaps, still a touch haughty. "I can scarcely believe it even now."

At that, Harry laughed and Granger smiled, the latter look was still guarded or strained, Pansy noticed, but the tension that'd been betwixt them for so long had finally begun to dissipate. Who would have thought the catalyst for such a happening would be providing aid to Harry as he went through the Tri-Wizard tournament?

Certainly not Pansy.

"You've not told me the time you and Granger want to meet tonight, Harry," Pansy reminded as they finally came to a complete stop, her mind only briefly thinking back to the Great Hall; there was plenty of time left to eat, and the Carrows were notoriously slow in doing so. "Or if there's a topic we're meant to specifically cover — I've been unlucky thus far in uncovering secrets regarding the final task."

"So have we," Harry confirmed as he nodded to Granger, but then he smiled and shrugged, a hand finding one of Pansy's as the trio looked to the courtyard, dim as it was from the darkened skies. "I think we'll be fine, though. I've got you two helping me, and when I'm inside, I'll be working with Fleur and Cedric."

Pansy allowed those words to ease the worry that'd begun to bubble at the mention of the, as of yet, unknown trials within the final task. She swallowed, looked at Granger, and spoke to the other girl.

"We'll not be rid of him for quite some time, isn't that right, Granger?"

The other witch's response was perfect. "Not if we have anything to say about it."

And by Morgana, did they have much and more to say.

June 23, 1995

When Pansy opened her eyes, bleary and sore as they were, she was greeted with the ever-calming, ever-present view of the depths of the Black Lake. It was mystifying and wondrous as could always be said of it, and as she rose, her hands rubbing at those aforementioned unfocused eyes, she sighed.

Today, she and almost everybody at Hogwarts had gone through the end-of-year exams. As could be expected, they were difficult and in some instances, exceedingly challenging, but she'd completed them with confidence. Her marks had never been in the utmost echelon of Hogwarts' greatest, but she was no slouch. Pansy was consistent in achieving marks that would see her in the top twenty-five per cent of her year.

When it came to charms alone, only then could she claim to be amidst the best in her year.

She yawned then, her thoughts of self-joy ending as she came to stand. This was the final night before the final task of the tournament. Harry, Fleur and Cedric had met without her today, and she imagined during those meetings, the trio went over teamwork and last-minute adjustments to whatever plan they'd decided to follow through with. Pansy had taken part in a fair few, but she doubted she'd been present for each and every idea as presented.

Cedric would have most assuredly presented one that'd prove outlandish if only to ease the tensions of Harry and Delacour, Pansy thought. She was only loathe that she'd not been present when such an idea had been made. I'll have to have Harry tell me on the morrow when he's finished with this nonsensical tournament madness.

"Were you napping earlier?"

Pansy yawned again, and as she did so, she turned to look at Tracey, the girl's presence surprising her on account of the early hours of the evening. Soon, Pansy surmised, Harry would be out of his meeting and awaiting her company until the time came for them to sneak back whence they needed to be for curfew.

"I was," she said as she thought about when would be the proper time to leave, and whether or not she needed to wash before seeing him. Pansy hadn't done anything particularly strenuous, but, if there was a potential for this night to be a bitter-sweet one, she'd be remiss if she didn't pull out every stop she could to ensure it was as lovely as possible. "The exams were a touch more troublesome than I'd have thought."

At that, Tracey grinned goofily as she moved close enough to lightly elbow Pansy in the ribs. "Too much time with Potter, huh?" she teased.

Pansy rolled her eyes, but she'd not respond. In truth, it was something along those lines — she'd spent much and more free time with him on account of the previous year and the friendship they'd fostered. When his name was then plucked from the Goblet, a feat that should have been impossible were those in charge competent, Pansy had assured him of her assistance. As she recalled, she'd not want her newest acquaintance, at the time, killed; the fact that his success thus far had only mildly, if even that, hindered her marks was a trade she'd take.

It wasn't as if she'd be expected to find work Post-Hogwarts anyhow. Her family was venerable and with vaults just as ancient. If disaster struck, they could weather it whilst drawing income from investments and ownership in a few businesses; her marks, thus, were of little importance.

"... that, I knew it!" Tracey was grinning victoriously and going on about only Morgana knew what — Pansy had been thinking, after all — and as she did so, Pansy simply sighed and shook her head.

Tracey and her antics, she mused internally as she summoned forth a change of clothes as well as her shower bag.

Pansy would make the most of an exceedingly quick twenty-minute wash.

As she'd thought, the wash had been quick, her hair had been styled just as hastily — without losing quality — and her attire was as immaculate as the single piece of jewellery she'd adorned herself in. That wasn't even to mention the soap and perfume she'd used. It smelled of flowers and fruits, a combination that Pansy imagined would draw Harry close.

At the merest thought of kissing Harry again, images of when last she did so drudged themselves up in her mind. Enough so to make her blush and squeeze shut her hands. It wouldn't do if she left with a blush soiling her cheeks. No, she'd have to throw over her person a robe, she was tempted to go so far as to disillusion herself.

It seemed a touch extreme, but she was of the opinion that she'd let nothing ruin this evening. Malfoys, Crabbes, Goyles and other potentially problematic persons be damned.

Pansy looked herself up and down in the mirror one last time, her eyes scanning for imperfections, and seeing none, she moved. From that moment on, time was a blur to her, until, she found herself outside the entrance to the abandoned classroom long since turned to their place of meeting.

As Pansy grew nearer, she heard the voice of another witch, and after a second, she made out who it was; Fleur. Cedric was probably just as likely to be present if the French witch was still here.

She moved to the door and pushed it open; as she thought, the three were together, but Fleur and Cedric were up, satchels over their shoulders and near where she found herself upon entering. Each, evidently, had been about to leave.

That was perfect.

"Pansy," the two greeted at nearly the same time.

Harry's greeting was a smile first and foremost, and then, a nickname he'd begun to use that made her narrow her eyes at him, "Hey, Pans."

It needed work.

"Fleur, Cedric," Pansy returned first, dipping her head to the pair as courtesy dictated. Her eyes focused on Harry next, and there they stood as the two aforementioned Magicals began to move past her. "Harry."

"Au revoir!"

"See ya Harry, Pansy."

And like that, the two were alone, the door shut behind Pansy with a resounding set of insidious-sounding giggles… from Cedric. Fleur seemed all the more interested in not prodding Harry and Pansy when it came to their romance; that didn't mean Pansy didn't notice the encouraging looks she'd get sent her way by the older witch.

"Hey."

Pansy looked at Harry then, the boy suddenly much closed than he'd been earlier. He was very close now.

"Hi," she said, her voice a touch softer than she'd meant it to be. Morgana, her stomach was turning against her too, and her heart… and her lungs.

In the next second that passed, she wasn't certain who it was, but her preparation and confidence evaporated as Harry's lips pressed against hers.

Chapter Text

Night would soon be upon them. Pansy knew that just as much as Harry did, but unlike him, that fact bothered her.

Tomorrow would be the third and final task.

All the work she'd done with him, for him, would come to head. The assistance provided by the other Champions, Granger, even Longbottom, he'd need to remember all of it. He'd have to use all of it.

Pansy's nails bit into the flesh of her palms as a sense of nervousness struck her. What could she do for him? Neither Mother nor Father could take him from the tournament, or provide better aid than that which she herself had done. Most others that might have proven helpful, wouldn't act; they'd be too scared to get caught for one reason or another.

"Pans?"

That questioning tone from Harry shook her from her thoughts and stopped the gouging of her hands by way of her nails. "That nickname again? You find it amusing, don't you?"

"Only a bit," Harry leaned in closer to her, and with a cheeky smile, slid an arm around her slender shoulders; she let him. "Really, I just like the way your nose scrunches up when I say it."

"It does not 'scrunch' up." Pansy shot him a petulant look; to think she'd been worried about him.

"Yeah it does. I've seen it happen a dozen times. Makes you look pretty… fierce. Pretty and fierce." Harry blinked. Clearly, his confidence wasn't as high when it came time to pay forth compliments.

"Pretty and fierce? I suppose that'll suffice." Pansy let out a short, quick breath. Even despite the levity and fun they were having, she was still full-up with worry.

Harry was courageous and kind, gallant and strong, but he was still young. He shouldn't be in the Triwizard Tournament even if he'd done as well as he had.

"You look like you're the one that's about to go to that final task tomorrow instead of me." Harry leaned back, and in doing so, pulled her along with him. She allowed it, partially for the comfort, and partially for his warmth; so many an old, dank classroom was cold, and whilst magic could warm her, she'd prefer Harry do that.

"I'd rather I was. Were it me, I'd use concealment and illusion, and hide until another won. I know you won't do that, wish as I might that you would." Pansy burrowed into his side, and found herself pleased by his firmness, and the way that arm he'd snaked around her grew tighter.

She hoped he'd be possessive and protective; Draco was a problem. One that he could handle, but one that she wasn't sure she herself could.

It wasn't that it was he that proved too much for her, but rather the many people he knew and could call upon by way of his father's name. Daphne, Tracey and Millie were good companions, and truer than most, but even they'd be foolish to try and step-in if Draco rallied enough of those dolts to his side.

She just had to make sure that didn't occur. Help from home would aid her, as would the help of her companions… but Harry could do much too. He'd already proven himself a startlingly good wizard on account of what he'd done thus far. Every new feat attributed to him would see people less and less likely to take him on.

"Comfy, isn't it?" Harry exhaled, calm and slow. That arm pulled her closer still not a second after, to the point that his breath would splash against the side of her neck.

It sent a shiver down Pansy's spine.

One that saw her adjust her robes before she did something quite bold herself; she blamed him for the trait appearing.

She slid atop him.

Harry blinked at her, but he didn't drop his hands from her.

Bolder than I thought he'd be.

"You're more comfortable than the couch." Pansy sniffed then. "You smell better than it too."

"I'd hope so."

A brief bout of silence fell over them.

But that was soon interrupted when Harry adjusted under her. A moment after doing so, he looked up and fixed her with a smile. "I'll be fine. I promise." He brushed the strands of hair that'd rebelled against her ponytail from her face. "Just like those other two tasks, I'll be back before you know it."

Pansy fought to keep her nose from twitching. Promises were only more cause for concern.

"You better be. I'll be very cross with you if you get hurt." Pansy folded her arms and 'glared' down at him. She hoped this look and the words of warning would be good motivation to stay safe… yet, if they weren't, she would make an offer. "Should you return unharmed, or fine enough to seek out my side, I'll do as you desire in regards to that eatery."

"You'll go with me to a Muggle restaurant in London? Really?"

She prodded him in the chest. "Conditionally, yes."

"I'll take a conditional yes." Harry said with a shrug and grin. One that looked far too victorious.

I'll allow him. He's much too handsome when he smiles wide as he is.

Pansy allowed that thought to bring forth a smile on her own face.

And so it was like that the two spent that last late night before the third and final task.

Until it grew late enough that each had to scurry back to their beds for a 'proper' night's rest.

"You don't need to escort me." Pansy said as she attempted to conceal the smile his words had brought forth; more and more oft as of late she had to try to hide the blush he could make form on her.

"I don't need to, but I want to," Harry grasped her hand, and started towards the door… only to pause and look at their belongings. "I'll get those."

He said that before she could so much as open her mouth, and then he began to pack up their items with a flick of his wand. That bit of silent magic was most impressive.

Just like him.

Pansy pulled at her robes. She'd had them enchanted to keep warm — even in June, the weather was dreary and cool… or maybe it was her nerves sending those constant chills through her. She hated the thought of Harry, alone in water, an arena; anywhere where nobody could help him.

She let out a little shaky breath and sneered at the ground. Those incessant nerves of hers were biting at her throat. It was almost as if she was the one going to that final task, not Harry. It was stupid. Especially since she hadn't been this nervous previously.

With a sigh, she leaned back against the rock at her back. Propriety be damned, her legs were sore from standing for so long. It'd been nearly twenty, whole minutes of her standing near to the Quidditch pitch, waiting for him and the company he so oft kept; she knew they'd come down together.

"You're so early. Waitin' for Harry?"

Tracey's voice greeted Pansy while her eyes had been lost looking at the clouds above. Dreary as it was, it seemed it'd only get darker for a time. Those days, overcast that was, never bode well.

"I am." Pansy turned her head, pleased by the coolness the stone offered as her cheek came to rest on it. "You and Greenie are early too."

Tracey's eyes immediately went to Daphne upon Pansy saying what she did.

"It's better than the unimaginative one you like to peddle." Daphne said with a shrug as she eyed Pansy with a raised brow. "Comfortable?"

"Not very. But I'd rather not go through the trouble of correcting that if he'll be along any moment now." Pansy also didn't want to be too comfortable atop the stone. There was a certain enjoyability that the firmness of it gave, and she was a touch too tired to trust herself not to lay back and drop her guard; Draco and his idiocy weren't soon forgotten.

And fool that she was, she'd stayed up late into the night. Harry had too, given how long they'd stayed in that room together, but she doubted he'd remained awake in bed as she had. He had the wondrous ability to sleep despite the stress of the day or rather, year — given all he'd experienced, she imagined it came easier to him than Potions seemed to.

"I should hope so. Diggory and Krum have already arrived." Daphne pulled on Tracey's hand then. "We'll save you a seat — bid Potter good fortune from us."

"Aww." Tracey didn't seem like she particularly wanted to go, but all the same, she allowed Daphne to pull her away.

And not a moment too soon. Whilst those two were walking away, or rather, while Tracey was skipping and making Daphne do a light jog to keep pace with her, she heard the voices nearby pick up. Her eyes had very quickly switched from looking at the fleeting forms of her companions, to the top of the path.

It was Harry. Not just him, but it was only he that she cared was present; he looked energetic and happy based on the smile he wore and the jump in his step — that confirmed to her that he was at least partially mad like all Gryffindors were.

She pushed herself off from the rock and wrung her hands before herself as he drew nearer and nearer. He seemed particularly lost in the conversation he was having with Ron, the two finally speaking in a manner that she'd long grown annoyingly accustomed to.

At least much and more of his time's still spent with me. Not Weasley or Granger, or all those harlots from the other houses that can't teach him so much as a thing about his family.

That always made her feel no small amount of pride. Harry had been so ignorant of his roots, of the centuries old family he had, but now, that was slowly being rectified. The same could be said when it came to his political mind, and the title he reluctantly bore; he could use 'Potter' and 'Boy-who-lived' to his advantage if the desire ever struck him.

Were he a Slytherin too, he'd have done so a hundred times over… per month.

Pansy took a few steps forward as he grew nearer still, and turned around the last bend that'd kept her partially concealed from his distracted self. It was noble of him, she thought, to be so invested in the words of his friends. Draco so oft only cared about what he had to say, and so minded not the words of those around him. Not even Blaise or Flint, or Pansy herself when she'd kept him company.

She supposed that was but another reason Harry had bested him so many times, and why he was the better wizard when it came down to it.

"Harry," Pansy gave a little wave to him. One that stole his attention away from Weasley and Granger, and the others that trailed close behind. She felt a surge of happiness in seeing how quick he'd seek her out despite the presence of his friends and housemates.

"Pansy!" He was happy to see her, and stepped away from his friends as his pace increased. He closed the distance that was between them in a dozen, quick strides. "Didn't think you'd beat me here — aren't you going to see me off in the tent like usual?"

She could hear the hope in his voice. Pansy had done so for the first task, but she'd lacked the chance to do so the second time around… she hadn't intended on doing it for this final one.

"Usual?" Pansy's hands slid towards her hips, whereupon they were meant to rest thereatop whilst she peered at him; but he moved faster, and bolder than she'd have thought.

As his arms pulled her into a hug, tight and warm and secure, he gave his response. "It happened every time that it could, right?"

"One out of one doesn't justify the word 'usual'." Pansy, despite the blush that came to her cheeks on account of the presence of others, returned the hug after some few seconds' thought. His back felt just as firm as she'd thought it would; he was certainly a wizard, and not soft as she was. "Your friends are drawing near." She'd added those latter few words when she took notice of just that, and in the hope that he'd let her go.

Public affection was very unbecoming… or so most older people might think. In truth, to her, it just made her feel embarrassed.

"Oh." Harry started to pull back, albeit slowly, enough so that he could catch her eye as his hands began to fall from her. "You know they know, right?"

Pansy blinked at him. "They know what?"

"We spend a lot of time together, that you help me, that I fancy you," Harry's list were all said in a normal tone of voice. It was as if his last few words were normal and without need for discussion. "Ron thinks you're going to try and get me into some sort of engagement — what'd he call it, a marriage contract?"

Focused as she'd been on the candidness with which he'd said 'I fancy you' for all in the area to hear, that question of his forced her from thought and made her blink up at him, almost in a daze. "Marriage contract? How archaic. Weasley told you about them?"

"Yeah. Ron's… well, he's Ron, yeah? When 'Mione and I came back one night from time with you, he thought you were doing all this just to get me to marry you." Harry laughed, and slid from before her, into the open space by Pansy's side. Without pausing he grabbed up one of her small, pale hands with one of his larger, veiny and calloused ones; he gave nods to his friends next, and answered a few errant questions.

Pansy, whilst he did so, thought of how she might tease him. He'd made her blush red as could be many times over recently, but just now, that boldness with so many others nearby, had earned him a reprisal.

"And did you say you would, if that was my goal?" Pansy put forth that question when most every other Gryffindor that'd trailed after him had gone ahead, the only ones still near being those who seemed most important to him from amongst his house; Longbottom, Ronald and Granger, and the sole female Weasley.

Not one of them knew what her question meant.

Harry looked down at her. She could see a moment's hesitation in his eyes… but only a moment's, for his reply came only a few seconds later. "Of course I did. You can't think I'm mad enough to decline."

The seriousness and the tone of his voice — one that said he had to be simple to decline — made it impossible for her to remain stoic and proper as she oft liked to be.

So she giggled, and raised a hand to her mouth; it wasn't to act cute as most might think, no, she had to contain a pig-like snort lest it free itself. Thankfully, her effort paid off and her giggling finished without fuss.

"A good answer," She said when Harry sent her a pleased little smirk now that she'd gathered herself. "And not one I'd expected. I always forgot how bold you can be."

"Why's that?" Harry was intrigued as he set them off, his hand in hers, and those few mates of his following after them.

"I'm used to wizards that act only when necessary and after extensive planning… when they've guaranteed the best chance for success. Think back to Draco and the brooms, and the stolen hours at the Pitch. He thought he'd assured himself a victory over you," Pansy still remembered how defeated he'd seemed that night. Even the following morn, he'd been silent, as if his father had written him about his horrible showing. Morgana, she'd enjoyed the peaceful day. "To finish answering your question, I would also make mention of them being raised very different from you; seldom do they approach a witch whilst thinking of her as their equal."

"More Crabbe, Goyle and Draco than Blaise, right?"

That was rather astute for Harry, and right on the galleon in terms of truth. He really was paying attention not just to her lessons, but to their peers more oft than he used to, wasn't he?

How pleasing.

"Exactly right. Blaise's mother would see him thoroughly punished if he were anything but proper towards any witch, Muggleborn or Pureblood. Despite the rumours, she's quite kind, and more intelligent than most might think after first seeing her," Pansy had only met the woman a few times, but she'd immediately liked her. She was young-looking, modern, wise, and sweet; all qualities that she'd passed on to Blaise, albeit wrapped up in a layer of quiet she herself didn't possess.

There was more Harry seemed to want to say, but he ended up shaking his head, and tightening the hold his hand had of hers as they grew nearer to the Champions tent.

"Walk later?"

"Where to?"

"Lake?"

Pansy wrinkled her nose, and deftly stepped around a gaggle of their peers that'd slowed down on the path ahead; Harry stayed right by her side as they did so, and Ron, ever the Weasley that he was, got on the group for stopping in the centre of the path. She supposed it was good that he did, so that she needn't send them a scathing look and do much the same once they passed them by; really, she'd seldom sent anyone such a look since she'd spent more and more of her time with the boy currently at her side.

"You still enjoy the lake?" Pansy paused for a second or so, and in that second, she cocked her head to one side. She supposed it did have a natural beauty about it, but still, the memories of what lurked in its depths as well as the task itself still sent a shiver down her spine.

How stupid a plan that'd been.

"It's relaxing." Harry shrugged. "Quiet too. All the courtyards, classrooms and hall have never been busier. Makes it hard to keep away from people and have some quiet. Draco and his lot don't help very much either, but he's been a bit more subdued lately. Reckon Professor Moody helped with that."

Truer words were seldom spoken. The students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang both had filled Hogwarts' halls right up, as well as the grounds thereof and Hogsmeade… and Draco was, to some degree, pacified even now on account of the transfiguration that'd been applied to him.

Hence the reason he'd come to bother her, she supposed. He was too much of a coward to deal with Harry after Moody's magic had worked him over; ammunition for later is what it'd serve as.

"I would be inclined to agree. Draco's never appreciated a challenge. Not least of all from Hogwarts staff." Pansy steered the conversation away from him then, as the tent itself began to fill more and more of their field of vision. "You're suitably prepared? There's nothing Granger or I can do for you?"

Harry's happy little look grew wider, and morphed into the rare sort of smile she'd come to learn he was capable of; it went beyond those that most ever saw.

"I'm as ready as I can ever be. You and 'Mione saw to that," Harry gave her hand a little squeeze, and she delighted in the physical strength it showed; Magical or Muggle means, it mattered not, Harry was strong. "Tell you what though. There is one thing you could do for me before the task."

Pansy sent him a knowing look. "You want a token of affection, isn't that right?"

For the first time, the voice of another butted in. Strangely enough, it wasn't Granger, but Weasley. "Reckon she already knows you in and out, mate."

Today must be a day of days for good observations by Gryffindors. That bodes well for Harry… I only wish it eased my nerves.

"I think you realised that before Harry had." Granger sounded amused, and a step or two later, she swivelled on her feet so as to gesture to the tent. "We've reached your tent… do try and stay safe, Harry? Please?"

He turned his smile from Pansy, to Hermione, and it morphed into a cheeky little grin. "When aren't I safe?"

"You don't want my answer." Granger didn't sound impressed. If anything, she was resigned; Harry would do whatever he wanted, and somehow, it'd go his way. It always had thus far.

Ron came over as Granger moved away from the tent, huffing and fixing Harry with a narrow-eyed glare; it was faux, of course. She'd never been cross with him in all the time Pansy had seen the two together.

"Mum and dad will expect you to visit them around the stands once you're back, mate," Ron gave him a big clap on the back. One that sent Harry forward with a lurch even despite Pansy's presence by his side, helping to secure him. "And don't take too long you miss the feast and party that comes after it, yeah?"

"Ron!" Hermione slapped Ron's chest, and started giving him an earful on account of his words.

That provided Pansy with the perfect opportunity to steal Harry away from his two friends, and into the tent that'd grant them the level of privacy she did so desire.

He sent a look their way as she did just that, but neither was able to see it and give him any last parting words before she pushed through the little opening in the tent and dragged him in alongside her. As those flaps closed shut behind them, she turned on the heels of her feet and wrapped him up in a hug.

It was forward for a Pureblood such as her, but the place was private by and large, and she couldn't stop herself from doing what her heart desired. He would be fine. Harry had said as much, his friends had reaffirmed it by way of their relative ease in parting with him, and the many tales she'd heard from had conveyed that same, repetitive message.

He would be fine.

"That worried about me?" Harry didn't sound teasing, if anything, that tone of his was rife with something akin to happiness; she imagined it was that same sense one got whenever another worried about them. Maybe the fact that it was her made it feel like it was worth more.

Any attention from him as of late had always made her feel that same way, if so. "How can't I be?" Pansy pulled back to peer up into his eyes. "I've not been at your side as the others have. I've only heard the rumours, and what you've told me — what if your luck's changed? Or what if you've never faced something of a calibre high enough to defeat you? You could be caught unaware, or tricked. There's a million ways one can b—"

Harry stopped her mid ramble by leaning forward, and pressing a kiss to her lips.

It caught her completely off guard, but it was welcome.

Very welcome.

Pansy pressed back in and wrapped her arms around him. She deepened the kiss when he'd initially made to move back… and then he'd pushed back to meet her. The two went on until they were breathless, and only then did they pull back.

With rosy red cheeks, she raised her wand to her mouth to see the wetness thereat, banished.

"Yo—"

"Pa—"

The two had tried to speak at nearly the same time, and each hearing the other, paused.

"You first. Only proper." Harry dropped his hands to her waist, and kept them there with a gentle squeeze. It felt more divine than any simple touch should; maybe it was the implied possession Pansy enjoyed. They'd not discussed at length how serious they wanted to be.

"You'll be careful. Don't be a hero. Just go in, and return." Pansy adjusted his collar, and couldn't resist planting a quick kiss on the bone thereof. When she pulled back to look at his grinning face, she allowed a few more words. "If you insist that you need to win or do well, then use your mind. Only do what need be done — if you're hurt again, I swear to Morgana, I'll keep you bound by my side so there's no worry you'll go off and get hurt again. You know I mean what I say."

Harry snickered. It was a charming little sound that returned her urge to kiss him. "I don't doubt it… but there's worse punishments, aren't there? One detention with Snape is far worse than a whole day 'stuck' next to you."

"I could make you feed me."

He shrugged.

"Massage me." Pansy had seen many an older witch do the same with the wizard's they'd dated. Most, she supposed, had gone on to get engaged to those same wizards once Hogwarts was finished, but that fact needn't be focused upon.

This time, his face seemed to redden a tinge, but all the same he shrugged.

"I suppose you're simply too fond of my company," Pansy couldn't deny how pleased that made her. "Good. That gives you all the more reason to do all that you can to come back to it."

"I'll be around to bug you for years to come," Harry said the words as if it were a promise. She hoped they were.

The two shared a look.

Silent save for the voices from further in the tent, their eyes shared an exchange wherein words weren't needed.

Then, with one more parting kiss, Pansy took her leave.

"Back already?" Tracey scooched in close to Pansy as she could be, short of sitting atop her lap. "Did you kiss him? I bet you did — you're still all pink."

"Tracey." Greengrass, who was seated on her other side, leaned forward to reprimand her friend… and to take a quick glance Pansy's way so as to confirm the blush Tracey had made mention of.

"Harry and I shared a few words before I left him to give him time alone." Pansy raised one sharp brow at Tracey. "It's only natural that I gave him a kiss of good fortune. I've seen Daphne do the same."

Daphne rolled her eyes.

Tracey, however, grinned. She was very pleased to be in the know when it came to 'Pansy and Potter's road to marriage'.

"You shoulda g—"

Whatever remained of Tracey's words were lost to the roar of the crowd around them. As a result of that great uptick in noise, Pansy's eyes darted to the centre of the arena. There was no sign of Harry, nor any other Champion, but the judges had arrived and a cannon had been rolled out down below.

It'd soon start. The final task that seemed akin to a maze or vast forest made of hedges. Pansy shivered at the thought of what was hidden deep within. Whatever the creatures were, they'd not be friendly. Most would likely be abhorrent, or given a rating that meant death should one be encountered.

That wasn't to mention the traps; Granger had told her in private one evening, while Harry had gone to use the loo, that it was far more than creatures alone that need worry the Champions.

Dumbledore waved to the crowd, and the noise that'd begun to die down, rose again. He was entirely too loved for her liking.

Pansy had enough, and so she pulled out her wand. Within a second's time, and with nobody hearing her cast the spell given the noise, she erected a privacy charm to block out the noise of the crowd. Immediately, the calm that came with silence settled on her.

Until Tracey cheered and gave her a side-hug; the girl truly should've been a Hufflepuff. Were it not for the streak of deviousness that ran through her, or her way with words, mayhaps she would've been.

"I'll take it down once Harry comes out." Pansy leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. "No need to listen to all the cheers for Dumbledore or the other Headmasters."

"There's Ministry officials too." Daphne had a little cheeky grin on her face when Pansy glanced her way.

"Did anybody cheer for them?"

Her grin grew. "Their children, I'm sure."

Pansy turned her head, and allowed it to rest against the wall at her back. There, she let her eyes close. "I wouldn't be." she took a deep breath, and sagged in her seat; Morgana, the lack of sleep from the night before was really getting to her… yet, try as she might to rest, her heart was racing much too fast.

"Potter's looking at you." Daphne's words made her eyes snap open.

She leaned forward and sought out the ground below. Sure enough, there he was near to the tent's entrance with the other three Champions.

That racing of her heart picked up.

Pansy waved her wand and saw her privacy charm dismantled. At once, that annoying buzz from the crowd greeted her ears. It was harsh-sounding, and annoying, but thankfully before too long it was hushed.

Dumbledore and those near to him wished to speak about this final task; an announcement she cared not to hear.

She was focused completely and utterly on Harry. Far away as he was, their eyes managed to meet; Daphne hadn't been lying.

Slowly, Pansy raised a hand and gave a small wave.

Harry began to cheese, and Cedric beside him took notice. The older boy leaned down and whispered something to him, and then they shared a laugh even as a man from the Ministry raised his voice to speak.

When Harry's eyes returned to hers, and the entirety of his attention followed suit, she made sure to do something she thought might please him — Tracey would be annoying, but this was for Harry.

Her wizard.

Pansy made certain that her attention was focused solely on Harry, more confident when neither Greengrass or Davis were in her field of vision, and raised a hand to her mouth; she blew a kiss.

The moment she was finished, she dropped that hand to her side.

Surprisingly, no comments came from either companion.

Harry's little cheesy grin grew into a full blown dimpled smile.

Come back and you can snog me again.

She hoped the look on her face conveyed that thought.

Pansy was startled from her idle — ofttimes worried — thoughts when a light from deep within the hedges shot up, and into the sky. It popped as fireworks might, and she thought it pretty.

Then she saw the Professors and Ministry employees that ventured in post-haste, with wands in-hand. That little, pleased look she wore when she took note of the lightshow was immediately washed away when she realised what it likely meant; a Champion couldn't continue.

Was it Cedric? Krum? Fleur?

Pansy had thought Cedric and Fleur would work with Harry, the three joined by their desire to stay alive and well. Mayhaps that still rang true, and Krum had been taken out on account of his being alone.

Her nails dug into the palm of her hands.

Morgana. I never thought I'd hate this tournament as much as I do. To think when first it was announced I'd found myself excited.

Some few minutes later, Pansy was shaken from her myriad of errant thoughts by Tracey. One of her hands had grabbed one of her sleeves, and pulled a good half-dozen times over in little more than a few seconds.

"What?" Pansy sounded a bit snippier than she wanted to, and took a breath as a result thereof. She repeated her question, more pleasant-sounding this time around. "What is it?"

Tracey gave a nod to the centre-stage, and turned her head thereafter.

Naturally, Pansy's eyes followed hers, and she winced at what she saw.

Then at what followed only a few seconds later.

First, there was Fleur. She seemed to be unconscious — paralyzed, maybe, or stunned, Pansy couldn't tell. She only knew the girl wasn't dead given her body wasn't covered, and on account of the rise and fall of her chest. That beautiful skin than many a witch admired, was marred with scratches and cuts.

Even her outfit seemed a bit ripped up in places.

Something attacked her.

Pansy's eyes snapped to the figures that trailed after Fleur's levitated form.

There were a few Professors, Snape included, as well as Ministry employees. In between all of them, was Krum's form. He seemed fine, by and large. Compared to Fleur, his state was leaps and bounds better.

But all the same, he was unmoving; at least he was alive too.

"Down to Harry and Cedric," Tracey whistled, and leaned forward so that she could catch Pansy's eyes. When she did, she smiled wide. "You might get to brag about being the witch that's dating the Hogwarts Champion."

Daphne groaned. "You know how insufferable she'll be towards all those other witches that fancy him?"

"Shouldn't that excite you?" Pansy thought Daphne lived for games of words. More so for battles she didn't even take part in, instead, watching with a grin from the shadows.

"Normally it would, but you're aware of how many witches fancy him. Fun as it might be to see you tear down their hopes, they'd be constantly interrupting our meals, our walks, the balls we attend — it'd grow to be tedious. Maybe I'd even lose my appetite for it," Daphne let out an exaggerated, forlorn sigh. "Naturally because he's Potter, he'll win and add to the list of feats he's been expanding since first he returned."

Tracey gave Pansy a thumbs up. "Even Daph thinks he's gonna win. That guarantees it," she clutched her hands before her chest and wiggled back and forth in her seat. "Morgana, the next time you'll see him, he'll be the winner of the whole thing, and he won't even care. He'll run over, grab you up in those big, brutish Gryffindor arms and sno—"

Daphne coughed over Tracey's words, and gave her friend a very pointed look. Haughty and elegant as Daphne was, she'd always handled mention of boys poorly; now was no different. Those pale cheeks of hers were red as could be.

Pansy's own weren't too far off from that same state. Those words from Tracey had painted a pretty picture in her mind. One she very badly desired to see made real sans one part; he needn't win to get the snog she dreamt of.

All he had to do was return to her, relatively unharmed.

It wasn't a very tall ask.

Harry was back.

Harry and Cedric both were back.

But something was very obviously off by the way Harry acted; Pansy had made it out within a second of her eyes landing on the form of her wizard. He was shaking, his arms were clutching Cedric, and he didn't seek her, nor his friends out as he'd promised he would upon his return.

Pansy rose from her seat for the first time since she'd slid into it so as to get a better look, and as soon as she did so, she saw something she'd never unsee; Cedric's eyes were open, peering into the sky above.

He didn't blink, and unlike Krum or Fleur, his chest didn't have a steady rise and fall.

Before she understood what she was doing, her feet were carrying her past Daphne, to the steps that'd see her down below. Harry needed somebody at his side, and whilst realisation began to dawn on all who looked at the returned Champions, it was the perfect chance for her to get to him.

He'll blame himself.

Pansy knew that with nary a word shared with him.

She'd have to do what she could.

Nearly a dozen steps from Harry's side, she saw Professor Moody grab him up, and begin to pull him away from the crowd. She wasn't sure why he was taking him away from the Headmaster or the staff that'd surely need to hear what'd happened after checking on him first — so Pansy made a split decision.

She followed after them.

Pansy did intend on catching up so that she could speak to them, but their pace that'd been quick to begin with only increased once they no longer had to have attendees shoved aside. That gave them a good bit of ground on her, and so she was stuck lurking behind, whilst Harry was spirited away.

But all that did was annoy her — she wouldn't be shaken off. She quickened her pace, attempting to match theirs; that saw her into a light jog, and by Morgana, did she regret dressing more beautiful than practical. With Harry as hers, there was little need of the former and far more of the latter.

She took out her wand as she raced up the inclined path, and aimed it at her skirt. It was hard, saying the incantation whilst racing uphill and ensuring her eyes remained on Harry; she really found it strange how far away the Professor was taking him.

With her skirt turned to leggings, her pace rapidly increased.

Enough so that she was close enough to call out and be heard over the wind and noise of the crowd as people finally began to exit.

"Harry!" That was all she needed to say. If he heard her, he'd stop. She knew that.

And she was right. Harry stopped mid-step, and thanks to the Professor, stumbled. He regained his balance in less than a second, likely on account of his Quidditch training, and ensured neither he, nor the Professor continued on.

That saw her rapidly close the gap that'd formed between them… and as she did so, she took notice of something even more strange than Professor Moody rushing off with Harry — his attention had flickered between the two of them a good half-dozen times. His hand that wasn't still clutching Harry in a manner that seemed far too tight, had lowered, and twitched.

It was almost like he'd made to go for his wand; surely he didn't think her holding hers was a threat. He was a Professor, and a renowned — or infamous depending on which side your family was — Auror.

"Pans," Harry pulled free of the Professor altogether, and held open his arms.

Without so much as a second's pause, she ran into the offered embrace, and saw her arms firmly wrapped around him, as his larger, more muscular ones closed around her. All of those worries she'd had in the stands were immediately washed away when she felt his warmth.

"Are you alright?" Cedric… she was sad for him, but her worries were for Harry; physically and internally. In his gaze and in his voice, there was a distance, a sadness. She'd be by his side, and she reaffirmed that by tightening the hold she had around him.

"Alright," Harry's arms grew tighter around her. "Cedric. He… he tried to help. There was— he's back." The words he said were emotionally-charged, and heavy-sounding. He didn't go incoherent or cry, he just kept her close, and spoke as best he could as shock, or realisation, set in.

Pansy pressed a kiss to his cheek, slid a hand into one of his own, and began to gently pull him towards Hogwarts; she would see him to the Hospital Ward. He could be given a calming drought and allowed time to rest — the privacy would be nice too.

After he was checked over, of course.

"Parkinson. Back to the others. Potter's needed elsewhere," Moody's gravelly voice, grating to one's ears, halted her in her tracks. She turned to look at him with a queer look.

"Harry should be escorted to the Hospital Ward, Professor. He could be wounded in a way we're not able to see," Pansy didn't wait for the man's response. Old Auror or not, he was a Professor at Hogwarts — he wouldn't attack her, nor would he stop her.

A barrier by way of earth forming a wall stopped her after little more than a dozen steps.

That made her sneer, and again, look back at the Professor. She wasn't too fond of the fact that his wand was now out.

"Profe—"

"Quiet!" He snapped at her. His tongue darted out and swiped across his lips then, and he raised something to his lips. When his throat didn't move, he held it all the way up… then he threw it at the ground when still, not so much as a drop came. "Parkinson. As stupid as your father, aren't you, girl?"

He'd already interrupted her. Now he'd given her insult.

Pansy looked away from the man, raised her nose, and sought out Hogwarts' nearest door.

Not one second later, Harry pushed her to the left and raised a shield.

A bolt of sickly yellow light struck it. One that made the shield fizzle and crack, but Harry held firm, even tired and upset as he was.

"Potter." Moody's voice was a growl, and he raised his wand with a vicious visage. He was poised to strike… and then he began to shake, and crumple inwards.

Pansy pulled on Harry as the man was momentarily incapacitated. There was no need to fight him; they had to leave. Were he not blocking the path forward, she'd have started back down, to where hundreds of others were.

But Hogwarts could hold him off so long as they could close and lock the passages behind them.

"Come on," Pansy hissed under her breath as she pulled on Harry's hand. "We have to go. He'll catch up if we don't make haste."

She cast a look over her shoulder at Professor Moody's fallen form. He was unmoving. Little more than a lump on the ground. His apparel seemed much too large for him now, and his wand… it was just on the ground beside him.

Harry had a certain wildness about him when she turned her gaze back to him, from the — maybe not — Professor Moody.

"Harry?" Her voice was soft, calming even, despite the circumstances. She wanted him grounded.

He squeezed her hand. "I'm fine," his voice was raw-sounding. She could tell Cedric still weighed heavily on him, but now, adrenaline had taken him. Whatever previous fog had been present was, at least for the moment, gone. "We need Professor Dumbledore."

Pansy shook her head. "No. He's back by the crowd. Hogwarts is where we need to go."

The two had nearly reached the door that would see them to safety when a loud boom-like noise and a flash of orangish light occurred very near to them. Each whipped their wands thereto, ready for a fight.

But that wasn't necessary.

"Professor!" Harry pointed to the prone figure that'd finally begun to rise.

In doing so, Pansy took notice of something that she'd previously missed; a little house-elf was hidden in the grass very near to them, and at the back of the faux Moody. Was it him, not the drink the man had gone for that'd made him fall to the ground? If so, why had the little creature offered aid lest it were the one Harry had made mention of?

Before Pansy could so much as register a thing, three more Professors appeared, and the man was wrapped up with his wand taken.

It was about time the Professors came to their aid.

Pansy reclined into Harry's chest, and let out a long, happy-sounding sigh.

Finally, the tournament was over. Harry had been made the victor, the man who'd dared to attack them had been captured and identified as Barty Crouch Junior, a former Death Eater during the first wizarding war. His comment at the time, which hadn't made much sense to her, did now.

In hindsight.

But unfortunately for him and very fortunately for her, she'd be the one to get the last laugh; he was taken to the Ministry for interrogation. Dumbledore and the general public had ensured that'd happen, whereas others had just demanded he be given a Dementor's kiss, plain and simple — she wasn't fond of that.

Not for the sake of his soul, but for the lack of punishment he'd have. He'd tried to hurt Harry, or worse, when he'd made to take him away. As for her, whichever spell he'd cast wouldn't have been friendly.

Morgana, to think he'd dare attack her.

She hoped Mother and Father would make him pay for that act of aggression.

"Pans?"

"You're entirely too fond of that nickname."

That retort earned a little chuckle. One which she was glad to hear — she'd feared Cedric's death would shut him down; that wasn't to say he was alright, but… he was there. Her Harry was still present.

Harry's warm breath splashed down the back of her neck, but that ceased when he adjusted in his seat as he gave his response. "I like it. Nobody else uses it. Just me."

That made her look up and over her shoulder at him. "Possessive, are we?"

Those hands that'd been lazily resting on her, pressed into the flesh of her hips. "How can't I be? I've seen the way Malfoy looks at you — others too," Harry manhandled her — she'd never tell him how much she enjoyed when he did so — and saw her turned around partially, whilst remaining in his grasp. He lowered his face to hers then, and gave her the gentlest of kisses. When he pulled back not a second later, he grinned down at her. "Luckily, you're here with me, aren't you?"

Pansy snorted, and fisted her hand in his shirt. "There's no other wizard deserving of my company in all of Hogwarts," she hooked one of her legs around one of his, marvelling at the strength she felt before she pressed in closer; he was so warm. So safe. "And no other witch deserving of yours."

That made Harry snicker, and before she could come up with some sort of clever retort to that aforementioned snicker, he leaned in and kissed her.

Whatever she'd been about to say was completely forgotten when he took that bold action and she all but melted into him.

She could never stay mad at him. Not even when it was little more than a teasing joke in her faux 'snake-mode' as he'd called it.

When he pulled back and grinned down at her like a dork, she leaned up and gave him a little kiss on the nose. "You're lucky you're so handsome."

"You are too."

That made her blink at him, her mouth agape after she'd pulled back from the kiss she'd been so tempted into giving him. After a second or so of staring up at him, she did something she never desired doing in his company.

She snorted. It forced itself out sans her permission. "You're learning."

"Have to think like a snake if I'm dating one, don't I?" Harry folded his arms around her back, which meant he'd raised them from where they'd been resting; she missed his hold immediately. "Pans?"

"Hmm?" She was lost in idle thought of Harry, and the summer.

There wasn't an ounce of her ready to go without him for months on end.

"Could I write to you?"

Pansy raised her face so that her eyes were perfectly level with his own, and there as they were, hers bore into his.

"You'll be visiting oft. There'll be no need for letters."

Mother and Father would have to handle the fact she'd have her Harry over as often as she liked.

She was their Princess as much as his now.

Chapter Text

Pansy had done her hair, adorned herself in her finest jewellery, and wore her most expensive dress. She looked, as her Mother always put it, like a Princess — a pureblood Princess.

Which was perfect for the task at hand.

"Is he soon to arrive then, dear?" Mother called out from her position in the sitting room, and it was with her call that Pansy realised she'd been staring at the fireplace for far too long.

"I expect him any moment, Mother." She answered, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet; her eyes drifted back to her mother not a second later. "Don't you and Father have to go and... do something."

She waved her wand at her tea cup, and it was refilled.

"Oh, dear, we'd much rather stay here and meet the young man you're so enamoured with."

"Mother." Pansy's voice was petulant-sounding, and she'd be lying if she didn't feel an ounce of childish annoyance. "Please? I'd like to have the afternoon alone with him in the garden. I've not seen him for a week."

"Oh a week, how awful," her mother's tone was playful, and it brought a smile to her lips. "Very well, we shall leave the two of you alone."

Pansy's smile widened, and her heart fluttered with glee. That was all she could ask for, and now, she had it.

She looked down at the fire, and waited.

She knew him to be punctual.

Her manners were only just remembered when she heard her mother take leave of the room. "Thank you, Mum!"

That saw her mother's footsteps stop.

"Anything for you, my Princess."

The fireplace sparked and roared, and not a second later, her Harry stepped through. He had an easy smile on his face, and he was wearing one of the new sets of robes that'd been tailored for him — he'd taken his appearance seriously since the end of the Tournament. Since his victory.

She was glad for it, for his sake. It gave many of her fellow snakes less to speak on, and convinced her that Harry was taking serious his future. Morgana, how powerful a Potter head he'd make.

"Harry," she was in his arms the moment he stepped through. She buried her face in his neck, and inhaled the scent of the cologne he'd taken to using.

It was a bit bold, improper mayhaps, but Pansy couldn't find it within herself to care. After all, what good was it being a Princess if one couldn't abuse their rights to do as they'd please?

"Pans," Harry squeezed her.

"I missed you."

"We were together not a week ago."

Pansy leaned up onto her tip-toes, and pulled Harry's face down to her own. When she kissed his cheek, she did so with her lips lingering.

"And?" She arched a brow in challenge. "Am I not allowed to miss my boyfriend?"

That made Harry grin like the biggest dork in the world — being a Gryffindor that came easy to him — before he leaned down and stole a kiss. "Of course, Princess."

"Good."

Harry was still chuckling when she tugged him along towards the doors that would see them to the gardens.

"No mum and dad?" He asked with a cursory glance over his shoulder.

"Nope. We're alone," she smiled at him. "They trust you."

"Do they now?" Harry sounded a touch smug.

"You won the Triwizard tournament. And you're the boy who lived." Pansy blinked at him when his expression didn't shift; surely he couldn't be that thick. "If Mother and Father could have us married over summer, they'd have already done so."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, and when he looked down at her, there was a strange sort of gleam to his eye. "They'd have us marry so soon?"

"Nearly any witch's parents would," Pansy laughed and poked at him. "Do I make for that terrifying a wife?"

Harry's mouth opened, and closed. Then he did it again.

That made her giggle. Enough so that a snort was ripped from her, and then it was Harry's turn to laugh.

"What a pair we are, huh?" He shook his head, and his arm slid around her waist. "I don't think I'll ever get over that noise."

With no force behind it, she slapped at his upper-arm. "Rude."

"I love it."

That had her cheeks colour, and her chest feeling all warm.

How could Harry leave her feeling like this so easily?

"You're a dangerous wizard," Pansy said once she got control of her giggles. "Sweet-talking an innocent, helpless witch such as I."

That earned her a snort.

"Harry!" Pansy gasped, now mock offended, poked at his side. "What an awful sound from a young, respectable wizard."

He snickered and pulled open the door. "Go on then, Princess. Your garden awaits."

Pansy walked out into the gardens, and breathed deep. It'd rained recently, and the scent was wonderful. She looked back at Harry when he followed her out, and smiled.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, his gaze drifting up to the sky.

"I was wondering," Pansy stopped in front of her favourite flower patch, and knelt down beside them. "If I were to gain permission to have you spend a few nights' time with us, would you be alright with that?"

"Yeah, of course," Harry didn't hesitate.

"You're sure?" Pansy hoped the eagerness of having him so close and all to herself didn't bleed through her words. "Because I'd like for us to go flying, and swimming, and-"

"I'll have to talk to my Aunt and Uncle," Harry cut in, and he knelt down beside her. His eyes drifted over her features. "But, I don't see a problem with it. They'd be happy to have me out of the house."

Harry laughed it off, but in his tone seemed a certain truth; she'd long-since been able to pick that out given her Slytherin housemates.

"It's decided then. You'll remain here for, shall we say, a week's time?" Pansy cut him off before he could answer as she nodded towards a bench; their destination, for a time.

Pansy wrinkled her nose and folded her arms. "You want to take me to Muggle London for the sake of food? Why?" She gave a gesture in the direction of the kitchens. "Anything you desire, our house-elves could see made."

"We could see a film, take a walk around, have a meal of a kind you wouldn't normally have — like Chinese or Indian — if there's anything you'd fancy seeing too, we could see it."

Pansy was intrigued, but she also knew she had a part to play. "You'll not leave me at the mercy of those horrible, disgusting, rude muggles."

Harry snickered and pulled on her hand. "You're so dramatic, you know that?"

Pansy's cheeks puffed out. "Am not!" She was great at acting the part of a brat; and it surely was just that, acting.

Harry, the absolute dork he was, found humour in her dramatics. "You like ice cream, don't you? And chocolate?"

"Naturally." Pansy slid into his lap and leaned into his chest; she peered up into those green eyes of his. Without delay, a smile broke out across her face.

"Well, the Muggle world has some really nice ones."

Pansy prodded him. "You know I was convinced when first you asked, don't you?"

Harry blinked. "Really?"

"Of course, dummy."

She took her Harry's hand in her own, and squeezed.

"Lead the way, oh great and powerful Gryffindor."

He gave her a laugh. Genuine and charming. "Yes, ma'am."

With a little smile on her lips, Pansy stood up from his lap, and let him tug her along.

They left her home, and ventured through the Floo Network.

"From Diagon to Muggle London. How queer." Pansy jolted when a large, barreling machine went past at speed faster than any could sprint.

She sought Harry when she saw dozens more, the noise and scents of them assaulting her senses. "You're lucky you're cute. This place isn't half as alluring as you'd made it out to be."

"Wait until I've taken you to the mall or you've had a chance to try a few new foods. Reckon both'll change your mind." Harry tugged her along, interweaving his fingers 'round hers.

Pansy had to admit as he led her expertly through the streets, that she was impressed by the architecture... but he noise and scents weren't anything she'd grow accustomed to. Were it not for him and the cologne that enveloped her as he pulled her closer still, she'd have thought the trip not worth it.

"This way," Harry pulled her around a corner, and the noise lessened, though the scents lingered.

Pansy didn't miss the glances and odd looks they'd received. Not everyone could look the way she and Harry did. Muggles were so plain.

"Here," Harry led her into a little building.

There was a little bell that went off when he opened the door, and not a second later, a voice sounded. "Harry! You're back!"

Pansy looked up, and her eyes landed on a rather pretty girl, a little younger than her, standing behind a counter. Her eyes drifted over her figure and she arched a brow.

She was attractive, she supposed, but nowhere near her equal.

"No better bakery in the area." Harry said, and there was a fondness to his tone.

"And no better baker than me." The girl gave him a bright, beaming smile.

"I'll agree with you on that, Ellie."

Pansy narrowed her eyes and watched the scene unfold before her.

"I see you brought company." The girl — Ellie, Harry had called her — eyed her curiously. "Friend or date?"

"My girlfriend," Harry said, and his hand moved to rest on her hip.

That display of possession drew a smile from Pansy. So she spoke to this 'Ellie' that Harry seemed fond of. "And you are?"

"A friend," Ellie smiled at her, and nodded to a display of cupcakes. "I make all the baked goods here, and Harry's always enjoyed them."

"Have ever since I came here." Harry gave Pansy's hand a little squeeze. "Now I get to introduce Pans to you and to everything you make. Think I'll even get her hooked on your milkshakes."

"Oh, you'll have to. If you don't, I'll never forgive you." Ellie gave a little laugh.

"Milkshakes are something like ice cream, only more solid," Harry explained.

Pansy nodded, and eyed the display case. "Well, you are a lovely baker, aren't you?" She'd not lie. All of the creations seemed quite perfectly made with nary a malformation or imperfection.

"Thank you." Ellie blushed at the praise, and went behind the counter, her attention shifting to Harry. "So, what'll it be for you two love birds?"

Harry's lips quirked up, and Pansy could tell he was a little amused. "Two of your special milkshakes. Chocolate."

"And," Pansy interjected, pointing to a chocolate cake, and a set of cookies. "Two of each of those."

"Right away, you two." Ellie nodded. "Sit, and I'll have them out to you."

"Thank you," Pansy smiled at her and leaned her weight into Harry. She'd never been a fan of people being overly polite and proper with her, and Ellie had struck her as a rather genuine girl.

Harry led her to a table in the back, and she took a seat. When he went to take the one opposite, she caught his wrist, and tugged.

"Sit by my side, not across from me." Her tone was imperious and demanding. She was his princess, after all.

Harry grinned at her, and took the seat right beside her. "Movie next, or do you fancy a walk?"

Pansy's nose wrinkled, and she gave a pointed glance to the street.

"Okay, no walks."

"It's too noisy." She complained, and rested her chin in her palm. "We'll have the treats, and we'll see a film. Something not too boring."

Harry snorted. "Believe me, you won't want to go to another play after you've watched a film. They're so much better."

"Oh? You've seen plays?" Pansy arched a brow, and leaned in closer.

"A few times."

Pansy burrowed into his warmth, the rainy, chilly and overcast day leaving her a little cold and lest she draw her wand in the Muggle world, he was all she had. "Remind me to bring charmed clothing on our next excursion."

Harry's arm went around her waist, and Pansy sighed contently. His chuckle saw her looking up, and their gazes met.

"Comfortable?"

Pansy's lips quirked up. "How couldn't I be?"

Harry was so wonderfully warm, and his scent was pleasant.

"You're so cute."

Pansy's heart fluttered, and a blush bloomed on her cheeks.

She didn't get the chance to respond before Ellie was setting a pair of glasses filled with thick, rich and creamy looking liquids, along with a plate holding two of each treat, on the table.

"Enjoy." Ellie said with a smile, and she went off.

"Go ahead, try the milkshake," Harry prompted.

She did... and Morgana, she saw the appeal. It was so rich and delicious, and the way it felt sliding down her throat was divine.

"Mm," she hummed.

"Like it?"

Pansy nodded, and picked up a cookie, and with a happy little bite, relaxed fully into Harry's side. This was the life she most definitely deserved.

"You didn't exaggerate," Pansy admitted. "The Muggle movie was far more enjoyable than the play I desired to take you to. It had the added benefit of having less pretentious witches and wizards about."

Harry snorted. "People don't usually speak in the theatre. They'd be shushed." He leaned in, and for a moment, so too did she.

And then she saw the piece of popped-corn — she thought that was what he'd asked for — he'd pulled from her hair.

It made her cheeks burn. "Thank you." Morgana, that was so embarrassing.

Harry snickered, and kissed her cheek before popping the little piece into his mouth.

Pansy's eyes upon seeing that went wide as dinner-plates. "Harry!" She slapped playfully at his chest. "That's filthy!"

He snickered and caught her arms, pulling her close and into an alcove; her cheeks coloured pinker still, just as they had when he'd pulled her to the far back of the theatre, at the raised section. She thought he'd snog her there, but he'd been the most frustratingly proper gentleman about things.

"You calling yourself filthy, Pans?"

She huffed and crossed her arms. "Not I, but that piece of food. Filthy."

Harry rolled his eyes, and kissed her forehead.

Pansy, feeling the warmth in her heart and stomach, smiled.

"Ready for the last stop of the evening?"

"I suppose," Pansy nodded, then, her inquisitiveness got the better of her. "Where else might you have in mind?

"My favourite spot," Harry tugged her along, his fingers laced with her own.

"Oh?" Pansy's interest was peaked. "Do tell, oh great and mighty Gryffindor."

Harry turned, and flashed a cheeky grin. "I'll show you instead."

Pansy huffed. "You're impossible."

"I prefer 'fun'."

She shook her head, and bit her lip to keep her laughter at bay as he lead her away. Pansy would never say as much aloud, but she was pleased as could be that he'd grown confident enough to kiss her when the urge took him, or to take hold of her hand and lead her 'round.

Her Harry was the greatest of wizards.

Pansy sighed as she laid atop the guest bed to the series of rooms Harry had been given. It was nearly as comfortable as her own, but unlike hers, it smelled of him.

She rolled over and snuggled into those still-warm sheets. He'd had his first night with her; Mother and Father minded not, and his guardians, after a brief discussion and a slip from hand to hand, were 'all-too-pleased' to see him gone to hers for a week. Harry had even told her that he had permission to stay with her for the whole duration of summer, but when she'd looked keen, he shook his head.

He didn't want to 'impose' as he'd said.

It was stupid. He should know by now that he was welcome.

"Pans?" Harry's voice, tired-sounding and husky, came from the loo; he looked as if he'd just had a wash. "G'morning."

She smiled and patted the bed. "Morning."

Harry took a seat at the foot of the bed, but when she pulled incessantly at his shirt, just as imperious as ever she was, he relented and climbed in beside her.

"Did you sleep well?"

Pansy rolled over, and cuddled close. "Wonderfully, thank you."

She was sure he didn't miss the hint of mischief in her voice.

"Something's on your mind," Harry murmured, his hand brushing her hair from her face.

"I wished to thank you. That trip we shared was far more fun than first I thought it'd be." Pansy's eyes began to flutter as his warmth and the softness of the bed grew too much for her. "It was... really, it was wonderful."

Harry's hand ran down her side, and Pansy shuddered. "No need to thank me. I just like seeing you smile."

Those words struck away that exhaustion, and saw her hold around him grow tighter.

What had she ever done to deserve him? Say what Mother and Father might about her blood and what it meant, Harry was genuinely the best wizard — the best boy — she'd ever met. None save for him deserved her.

"I'll need you to keep track of another reminder for me, if you might."

Harry let out the smallest of chuckles as his hand began to rub up and down her back. "Yeah?"

Pansy nodded against him, enjoying how soft his shirt was.

"What's that, then?" Harry prompted her.

"I need to spread word throughout all of Hogwarts that we're a very well-made couple."

That made him laugh openly this time. "Worried?"

Oh, he wishes to play?

"I suppose it might not be horrible if Draco or others think I'm avail—"

Harry hushed her with a kiss. One that was bold and saw her eyes close as she pressed impossibly closer.

When he pulled back, his voice, gruffer than usual, gave an answer. "I'll tell Lavender. All of Hogwarts should know within a day."

She was well aware of the other girl's mouth, and whilst oft that would prove annoying, Harry's words pleased her. They meant all would know they were firmly together, and actions would reinforce as much throughout the year — Morgana, Hogsmeade and meals with Harry, studying with him, all of it; Perfect.

Pansy swept across the carpeted floor of her bedroom, to the balcony as the morning's light poured through her window. It was a beautiful, cool and breezy day, and though a little rain was expected, Pansy found herself feeling cheerful. How couldn't she be with Harry's presence at her home, and the relative happiness her parents had as a result thereof? Married they mas as well be in her parents' eyes, that attitude let her act freely and affectionately with Harry to the content of her heart.

Maybe they thought if they didn't interfere, the pair would stay absolutely smitten with one another. Regardless of where they went as a couple, her parents would be fools to think she'd betray him.

She sighed, letting her worries melt away as she stretched. The sun bathed her, warming her despite the chilliness of the day.

Pansy summoned her robes, charmed as they were to keep her warm, when a gust of wind struck. That balcony door was closed shortly thereafter. Warmer now, she called to her house-elf for tea; there was nothing quite like a steaming, sugary cup of it to start the day.

The knock came when her breakfast tray did some few minutes later, and she was already seated at her vanity, a brush in hand, working through the tangles in her hair.

With a little happy look at herself in the mirror as she worked her hair, she called for Harry to enter. She'd already expected him to join her, hence the reasoning behind two plates and two cups of tea atop that aforementioned tray.

"Good morning," Harry greeted, his voice was a little rougher than usual, but that wasn't so unexpected. Wizards always sounded gruff early-on, and with Harry... it sounded very alluring.

"Good morning, Harry." Pansy's attention was pulled away from her reflection as he drew nearer, and her gaze shifted up and landed on him. Normal his nightwear may be, she couldn't help but let her eyes wander his person. "You slept in," she observed.

It wasn't teasing, for a change. It was oft him that woke far, far before she might.

His hair was mussed, and the wrinkles in his clothing were telling. "Fancied a lie-in. We were up late too. I'd have thought you'd still be asleep."

Pansy shrugged and set the brush aside as she rose to pull him back to the balcony she'd first sought out when she'd risen. "Join me for breakfast? We have a view of the pond and gardens from my room."

Harry's arm wound around her waist in a manner so familiar. It nearly made her swoon as much as his few simple words did. "I'd love to."

She couldn't resist, not with his arm around her, and his body pressed against her own. Leaning in, Pansy tilted her head, and placed a little kiss to the hollow of his neck. The little shudder it drew from him and the way his arm tightened around her... Pansy loved it.

"Your birthday rapidly approaches." Pansy saw to it that the tray was floating behind them, one arm and her eyes focused thereon.

But as Harry gave answer, he simply pointed a wand where her own was aimed, and took control from her. "A few days. I think I'll be here for it." The fact that he could speak with his eyes focused on hers as he did so didn't go unnoticed.

Pansy was impressed with him. In truth, she'd been impressed since before the first task of the tournament. He had so many rumours of feats that she now knew were true, he was the best, most powerful, and the most capable wizard of their year.

"Good." She nodded, and pulled him down into a chair, and then herself into his lap. "And thank you. You're ever the gentleman — tea?"

When he nodded, Pansy took one cup in hand and raised it to his lips.

Harry's hand covered her own, and a little smile appeared on his lips.

"Yes?"

"I can drink myself, you know."

Pansy arched a brow at him despite the colouring of her cheeks; she'd read of romantic scenes such as this, and Mother had made mention of them in her youth as well. "Indulge me?"

Harry swallowed. "Have to be mad if I didn't." He seemed just as shy as she did even despite all their cuddles and kisses in recent time.

Another endearing thing about him, that.

He took a long, slow sip, and Pansy couldn't help but smile, and lean in.

"Is it to your liking?"

"Very."

She didn't miss his gaze flickering to her lips.

"Would you care for a nibble of something?"

Harry nodded.

"The toast, then?" Pansy leaned over, her chest brushing his. "Or the bacon, perhaps?"

"Either sounds fine," he murmured, his gaze and mind focused on something else entirely; that redness of his cheek was so bright, it looked as if he were burned.

She imagined her own blush was somehow worse.

"Mm," She hummed, still confident on account of his own embarrassment. His lips were ever so inviting, and she found her free hand coming up to his cheek, the cup of tea lowering itself. "I agree."

Their lips met, and Pansy's eyes fluttered. It was always wonderful.

When she pulled back and grinned at him, he returned it with such a dorkish... charming, lopsided and adorable smile.

"Toast," Pansy said, and held it to his lips.

Harry snickered, but all the same he took a bite, and Pansy smiled.

After he swallowed, he held up his free hand to stop her from feeding him anymore. "Eat with me."

"You're the gu—"

He shook his head and with both hands shifting to her waist, shifted her around so that each could grab at the tray without difficulty. "I want to eat with you, not just have you feed me." Harry's arms secured themselves around her, and after those words, he leaned back in his seat. "Merlin. This has to be the best summer I've had."

"You've only been here two days." Pansy was smiling even as she playfully chastised him; surely he'd had better summers as a whole.

"And I've loved every minute." Harry gave a little gesture around the place, and then to her specifically. "I'm here at this place that's better than nearly everything in the Muggle world, with you, while you're feeding me breakfast in my lap."

"In that order, hm?"

Harry snickered. Maybe he was amused that's what she'd answered him with.

"You'd be first, second and third in that list," he replied, his words making her heart flutter and her stomach flip. "I can't ask for more."

Pansy cooed.

Witches would kill her if they knew how good Harry was. "Always know what to say, don't you, Boyfriend?"

He smirked.

She'd seen it a lot more often recently, and every single time she did, Pansy's stomach did little flips.

When his answer post-smirk was to lean forward, all thoughts or desire for answer were gone.

It was the thirty-first of July.

Harry's birthday. She'd known of it even back when they were enemies. Like most, she'd heard of him, read about him, and like many Pureblood witches, she'd thought about him. Many had crushed on him despite not knowing what he'd looked like. They'd only heard tell of a boy their age that'd somehow led to the destruction of the Dark Lord, and that was enough to have dozens of witches just like her dreaming about the day they'd meet.

Then his first year at Hogwarts rolled around, and suddenly everyone had an opinion of him.

Pansy, like others, had seen him a handful of times at the Gryffindor table, or when he'd come into the library, or when the train would take off and they'd see him and his friends standing around the carriages.

Her eyes would linger a little too long.

Then they were in classes together.

Draco hated him. He'd filled her ears about him, and Pansy had begun to think like him.

Harry was a brute. A liar. Someone not worth the dirt beneath her feet.

But then she'd learned Harry wasn't like that. Not remotely. Her cousins, the Carrows... somehow they'd known all along and gave her a few shoves so that she'd find out herself

Pansy shook her head as she gazed at herself in the mirror. Her beauty and dress this morn were beyond that of her norm. She'd gone well outside of her way to charm her hair straight and shiny, her makeup perfect, and her robes, whilst a little too short, were a gift from her mother for special occasions.

And today was special.

A small smile spread across her lips as she turned to the left, and the right, admiring herself.

That smile shrunk a smidge when she realised her parents would be home on the morrow. That meant her Harry wouldn't be hers alone, and undoubtedly, her parents would demand a few meals and events with him. Ah well, he'd not mind. He was sweet, and bothersome as they could be, she doubted they'd truly meddle all that much.

And she still had this whole day to herself. She could make the most of it.

With that thought, she exited her room and sought out Harry's.

Knocking, Pansy waited.

When no answer came, she frowned, but knocked again.

Silence.

Was he still asleep?

"Harry?"

Nothing.

She tested the door and, after making sure he wasn't starkers, entered. He was immediately noticeable atop his bed, under those soft, silky sheets.

Pansy tiptoed in, her eyes fixed on him, and as she grew nearer, she heard the faintest of snores. She'd been keeping him up late, night after night. He hadn't complained, but if he was this tired, maybe she'd call it a bit earlier this night... but with that as it was, Morgana, was it cute to see him fast asleep, his head on his pillow, and his lips parted; his hair looked the same as ever it did too, which wasn't too surprising.

"Harry?" She whispered, her hand gently shaking him. "Are you awake?"

A low groan escaped him.

Pansy leaned forward, a little smile on her face. "It's a wonderful day," she murmured, and kissed his cheek.

"Hmm..." His nose twitched.

"You should get up. There's breakfast to be had."

A little nod, and a shift under his sheets, and then he was facing her with those bright emerald eyes she adored. "You look brilliant." His eyes roved her.

A flush crept onto her cheeks, and a giggle escaped her. "Thank you," she darted in for a kiss. "And Happy Birthday, Harry — stay in bed, I'll get the tray for you."

Harry mumbled out something and pulled her closer as she whipped her wand to bring forth that tray of food. She giggled as she found herself falling onto the bed and under the sheets he'd opened. He'd seen her atop him, and a grin was spread across her face as a result of his warmth, and his affection

"Mm." He kissed her cheek, her jaw, and then her lips.

"You're more awake than I'd thought." Pansy prodded him. "Were you playing at sleep just so I'd enter?"

She knew that wasn't the case, but teasing him was always fun. Even if it were on his birthday.

Harry didn't sputter or react as she'd thought he might, instead, he stole another kiss as the food settled across his lap. "Believe me if I said this was the best birthday already too?"

Pansy snorted, and as she fixed with him a look of faux haughtiness, she raised a chocolate-dipped strawberry to his lips.

This time, she believed him.

Later that day, after food, time in the garden, time on the pond, and time atop her balcony, the pair found themselves sat atop a bench made from vines that still lived. They were curled and intertwined in a way that made them strong as any rope, and had a faint softness that felt just as pleasant as fabric.

Pansy, for her part, was leaning heavily into Harry as they read a slip of parchment from the Weasleys.

It was the first and only time one of their Owls had come to her family's home.

Harry had been as surprised as her, but the happiness that showed on his face upon its arrival showed how much it meant to him; the fact that Granger had signed it too made it better still.

"Please?" Harry pouted at her, but her Gryffindor hadn't had years of practice at pleading as she had. Morgana, Mother and Father had said she was meant for theatre.

"Sans our first year, I've never been back atop a broom, and I've no great urge to change that."

Harry let out a little laugh as he raised her head, gentle as could be. "I could fly slow, and if you'd want, I could cast a sticking charm on you."

The absurdity of his statement made her laugh. "I can just hold you and have you go slow."

"So that means you do want to?"

Pansy blinked at him. "I'm rubbing off on you." She prodded him in the chest. "If you let me fall, or if you drop me, I'll hex you until the end of Hogwarts — and I won't kiss you 'til then either."

That seemed to showcase both her dislike of flying, and her trust in him; those words, after all, were indicative of a person that'd agreed to do something they'd not otherwise have.

"Really? You'll actually fly? I was just teasing, if you don't wan—"

With a raise of her hand, she spoke over him; or, well, she tried. Her face was still partially buried in his chest, warm and comfy as could be. "You didn't make me do it. I'm not particularly fond of high places, but I don't fear them. So long as you're the one controlling the broom, I'll not complain."

Five minutes later, and with her arms wrapped around his midsection as Harry took to the sky, she'd begun to think back on those words... but she couldn't deny Harry. Not on his birthday, but more oft as of late, not at all. He'd found a way into her heart despite all the issues that'd first kept them apart, and now, there was no going back.

Harry shook her from such deep thoughts when he looked over his shoulder. They were only just above the pond, their feet practically skimming the water's surface.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine." She squeezed him a little tighter. "Just thinking."

Harry nodded and smiled, and as the broom rose a little higher, despite her words, Pansy felt the tension in her chest rise a little too. "What about?"

"You, and us."

Harry grinned at her, and Pansy returned it.

"You've changed my life," he told her, and a warm feeling flooded her.

"And you've changed mine." Pansy's arms tightened around his centre.

Harry looked so happy, it made her smile. "You look cute like that."

He rolled his eyes, but there was no denying the grin that appeared on his lips.

"Like what, exactly? Smiling at you?"

Pansy snorted. "No, not that. Flying. It reminds me of all your Quidditch victories. More, even."

"Always watched me even before, did you?" Harry snorted. He didn't seem to believe the thought.

So Pansy confirmed it for him. "Yes."

He blinked, and then they dipped.

Her feet didn't quite get wet, but Harry's most certainly did.

"Sorry." He chuckled and flew a little higher. "Didn't expect you to agree."

"You're so cute when you're surprised." She was feeling bold. Just as she'd rubbed off on him, he'd done the same to her; she'd never had said such words if he hadn't.

Harry looked ahead of them again, but not before she took note of the faint redness to his cheeks. "C'mon." He sped up, just a tad, and her grip tightened on him.

"Careful," she murmured into his back.

"Don't worry, you're safe with me."

Pansy sighed and pressed her forehead to his back.

He was right. And he was warm.

She turned to press the other side of her face to his back, and that was when she saw it.

The sunset.

They were high enough, and the air was clear. So much so that they had a near-unhindered view of it.

"Harry..."

He turned his head to look at it. "Oh, wow."

Pansy could barely tear her gaze from it. The colours were stunning. Reds, oranges and yellows, all bleeding into one another like watercolour.

"Do you see this often?" Harry asked.

"No, I'm usually inside. It's lovely."

Harry hummed. "You're lovely."

She sagged into him. Flattery would get him everywhere, not that she'd say as much aloud.

"Did you enjoy your birthday? Truly?" She asked the question both so that she could gain control of that blush that'd persisted for much of the time in his presence, and to tell if she'd done a good job.

It was only food, trinkets and seeing that he was pleased throughout the day thus far. She'd opted to save the gifts for last, but still ,she wished to know if it was a boring day, or one he'd not soon forget.

Harry huffed. "You asked me while I couldn't give you a kiss."

"Maybe." Pansy knew how he'd have answered if he had it his way, but she desired words this time around; kisses could come after presents.

Harry gave her a little pout, then he saw them shoot past her balcony with more speed than they'd yet used. As he took them there past, he gave his answer. "Told you in the morning, didn't I?" He slowed down and began to descend towards the water again, these next words far easier for her to hear. "This was the best one yet."

Pansy beamed and squeezed him tightly, not caring for the little dip they made as a result.

He was a sweetheart.

Pansy beamed at the paper that she'd deposited atop her desk. She had been made the female prefect for her year, and whilst it was unfortunate that she'd need share responsibilities with Draco, there was a silver-lining, so to say. Harry, with his marks and his showing last year, had been made the Gryffindor prefect of their year. Granger had to be the other, naturally.

"Prefect." Harry wrapped an arm around her as he let fall the piece of parchment he'd picked up. "We'll get to spend loads of time together."

"Mhm." She nodded and snuggled into him. "We will. The Prefects bath, the dorm, the corridors. We can meet every day and spend time together."

He seemed just as happy as she was... until he sighed. "Merlin, this week went by way too fast. Already my last night here with you."

Pansy scrunched up her face, and pushed further back into the warmth that was his chest. "I know, but we can write. Every day if you want. Maybe I'll even steal you from your Muggle family before summer's up."

Harry's face lit up at the suggestion, and a small smile crept onto her own. "Steal me, yeah?"

Ever the quintessential Princess that she was, Pansy tilted her head back so that she could pepper kisses along his jawline. In-between them, she gave her answer. "Why wouldn't I?"

Harry gave a snicker, and leaned down.

When he pressed his lips to hers, one hand ghosting over her neck, she shivered, and her lips parted.

They'd shared kisses before. Dozens, if not more. But something about this one made her melt into him, and with each passing moment, she wanted more.

She pulled him down, closer, and a hand slid into his hair, pulling it just hard enough to draw a soft groan from his throat.

Smiling to herself, Pansy resolved to have quite the snog on Harry's last night at her home.

They each deserved as much.

Pansy pouted at Harry.

He was due 'home' with his family in nary an hour's time. Neither wished to see him go, hence why they delayed in the all-but-empty Muggle park. It was a touch too... well, Muggle, for her liking. There were homes that seemed fine-enough, but there was trash that littered the grounds too, and the stink of something unfamiliar, mayhaps like oil from burning lamps in a very vague sense, from those machines that went by.

She sighed, and that drew the attention of her Harry.

He raised his brows, and then he took a step forward. "One more for the road?"

Pansy grinned at the idea, and with that grin, she darted forward and leapt into his arms.

She felt a pair of arms wrap around her as she held onto his shoulders and squeezed.

"I'm going to miss you, Pansy," he whispered, and as she heard the words, she shivered, and clung tighter.

"And I, you," she told him, and she meant it; lest her sadness grow stronger, she gave a little swipe of her hand in the direction of a nearby seat. Old-looking as it was, Pansy'd find peace near the beds of flowers and pools of water from a recent rainstorm. "Sit with me atop the bench? I'd like your lap."

A huff came from Harry, but when she raised her head, she found that he was smiling. "Alright." He leaned down, and stole a quick kiss before he set her on her feet and took her hand.

"Thank you." Pansy's fingers slipped between his, and she gave a firm squeeze as they walked.

"You don't need to thank me, you know," Harry said, a bit of amusement in his tone. "Reckon I'm wrapped around your finger already.

"Mm." She pursed her lips and hummed. "So you're saying you'll come when I call, no matter what?"

Harry gave her a little smirk, and when they were sat, and her legs were atop his lap, he began to rub the small of her back. "Pretty much."

"What if I want you for all of next summer? Or longer." She was pouting now, but that was more because she was trying to fight back a smile as she played with him.

Harry didn't try at all, and a full-blown grin spread across his face. "Then I'm yours 'til the end of summer."

"Good." Pansy beamed, and her free hand slid up his chest. "And the summer after that?"

"And the one after that," Harry agreed.

Pansy was about to continue this game of words, but then, a chill ran down her spine. One that sliced through the heating charms and the heat of his body, and caused a shiver to run through her.

Harry frowned and pulled her a little closer, but he didn't ask her what was wrong.

Instead, he turned his head and looked towards the entrance.

He'd sensed it too.

"Harry," Pansy whispered.

He squeezed her hand.

"I'm here." He shifted so that she could see his other arm better, and that was when she realised the wand that he'd had hidden beneath his jacket was out.

When she saw as much, she produced her own. There was a certain fearfulness in her, but the fact that he was there helped a great deal.

"If anything happens," he murmured. "Shield yourself and run. Got it?"

Pansy frowned and turned to glare at him, but a soft look from him made her pause. "Promise me." His voice was soft, and yet, insistent.

She couldn't give her response, not that she'd have given one he desired, before a figure appeared from betwixt a series of trees. Misty as it was, and evening-time no less, the sheer freezing cold gave way to what it was that confronted them; a Dementor. Pansy could scarcely believe her eyes.

Then the feelings came forth from the creature. It was the sort of dread that made her feel as though she were being dunked into icy-water. The cold of a winter's morning. The kind that seeped into her bones and left her shivering.

Her teeth clattered, and as she felt the urge to flee, to do as Harry had told her, and run, a strong set of arms wrapped around her, and pulled her close. Pansy's eyes snapped to him, away from the Dementor as it drifted nearer, the soulless, evil creature.

Harry's arm was shaking, she noticed, and the way his jaw was locked suggested he was having difficulty keeping a hold on his emotions.

"Expecto Patronum!"

With a wave of his wand, a silvery-white light shot forth, and it collided with the Dementor, forcing it back.

Pansy stared, wide-eyed, as the Dementor was blown away, the force of the Patronus sending it into the nearby trees, shattering branches as it flew back and away. His power was even greater than she'd tho— Pansy grabbed him and with a flick of her wand, saw the pair of them sent backwards a dozen metres; he cast a charm to stop their fall from hurting, but even as they landed, she was casting her own, and the world spun as those feelings grew worse.

But she'd gotten them away from the second dementor that'd taken advantage of the first's misfortune, and that was all she'd needed to do, for Harry then took over again.

That Patronus, shaped, strong and beautiful in a way magic seldom was, barrelled into the second Dementor.

"You okay?" Harry called out to her as soon as the creature was far away and fleeing, his hands holding onto her shoulders, his eyes searching her own.

Pansy nodded, and she reached out and touched him. She just needed a touch, to ground herself, and to know he was there.

"Yes," she mumbled, and his eyes searched her face.

"Are you sure?" Harry was looking her over now, and she had no doubt that his Auror-in-training senses were coming to light, even if his instincts weren't.

"Yes," Pansy mumbled, then she folded her arms. "It's not safe here for us. For you. We're returning to my home — I need to tell Mother and Father, and—"

Harry grabbed her hand and squeezed.

"Okay." He gave her a nod. "Let's go."

She hadn't expected him to agree so readily, but she couldn't complain.

They needed to be safe; somebody, or something, wanted her Harry.

Pansy wouldn't let them take him.

Back home after an evening that went not even remotely close to how it was meant to, Pansy wrapped herself around Harry under a myriad of sheets; warm as she was, the memories of the cold and emptiness the Dementors had brought forth left her yearning for him, his warmth, and the knowledge that he was there.

"Harry..." Pansy's arms were wrapped around his chest.

"Hmm?"

Pansy burrowed closer. "Thank you. I know you'll tell me I needn't say it, but if you hadn't been there..."

Harry squeezed her, and then he leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of her head. "You'd have gotten away fine," he whispered, and despite his attempt to assure her, Pansy wasn't having any of it.

"No, Harry." She shook her head, and her cheek slid over his bare skin, the smoothness a pleasant feeling. "I'd have fled, but I'd have frozen up once away from you."

Pansy knew it to be true. Those feelings were the most unnatural, dreadful, and evil thing she'd felt in her life, and she was no coward.

"Maybe, maybe not. All I know is that you were in danger." He gave her a look. "My duty as a boyfriend, I guess."

"Teach me?" Pansy peered up at him.

"Anything." Harry's arms grew tighter around her, seemingly more possessive; maybe he was worrying over her after the day's excitement.

She knew she was still pretty out of it, and no amount of tea or time in a hot bath had fixed that; Morgana, they'd gotten so close.

Pansy made to speak again, but then, a knock came at her door.

"Who is it?"

Her Mother answered. Not in the sweet, soft tone she was used to either — that meant the house-elf she'd sent for them whilst they'd been out for business had stressed just how important it was.

Good.

Pansy wiggled away from Harry lest her mother think them a touch too improper, and with no small amount of reluctance, rose from her bed and threw a dressing-gown over her nightdress.

"Come in," Pansy said, and then the door opened; oops.

She thought she'd locked it.

Pansy watched her Mother as the woman approached. Her gaze went to Harry, and Pansy was about to ask her if it were wise for him to be there when her Mother gave a small, knowing smile.

"I trust the pair of you are quite alright?"

Pansy blinked. "Yes, Mother." Try as she might, she couldn't keep her cheeks from turning a rosy-pink.

"Splendid." Mother clasped her hands together as her eyes, so much like Pansy's own, sought out Harry; she feared words or a remark might be made, but that wasn't the case. "Thank you, Harry. Our daughter's very dear to us, and you standing before her against Dementors... it won't be forgotten."

"You're welcome," Harry said. He sounded a touch unsure, but the words were there. "I just did what any boyfriend would."

Pansy felt her heart flutter.

Her Mother, however, smiled. "Any?" The older woman's gaze went to Pansy, a knowing gleam in it. "The pair of you are both to stay here. It isn't safe. We'll see the matter settled."

That was all that was said, and then, with a lingering glance betwixt the two — and an openly amused smile — Mother left the room as quickly as she'd entered.

Pansy sought out Harry's side once more, and without delay, as soon as the door was closed.

Chapter Text

When Pansy's eyes blinked open, a little bleary, it was to a room that wasn't her own. The light from outside suggested it was some hour between dawn and noon, but she paid it no mind. Instead, she raised one hand to her eyes to clear the sleep from them, and turned her head.

A pair of green eyes stared back.

Harry.

Pansy smiled, and as his arms around her grew a bit tighter, she burrowed further into him.

"Morning." His voice was deeper than usual. Morningy.

"Hello," she whispered. "How long have you been awake?"

Harry shrugged and pressed a kiss to her hair. "Not too long."

"Mm." Pansy's eyelids fluttered shut. "Do we have to leave this room?"

"Eventually."

"Ugh." Pansy wrinkled her nose and buried her face in his chest. "Yesterday happened? Morgana, I wish I could have dreamt all of that."

"I was hoping I'd dreamed that too," Harry mumbled.

"At least we can't be bothered here." Pansy let out a huff when he slid up; he'd be up and out of bed come soon enough. "Mother and Father both will take this as an attack. Maybe it wasn't bad if it sees Father more firmly on our side."

"Maybe," Harry mumbled. He'd not really spent any time with either of her parents, and each for a different reason; at least Mother hadn't had any qualms with the man she'd chosen, but Father... he was much too focused on how others perceived them. Like how she'd been, before her cousins had talked sense into her.

"It seems you'll spend the remainder of your summer here, with us. For the sake of your safety." Pansy couldn't stop the pleased little grin on her lips.

Harry gave a chuckle, and the rumble made her heart skip a beat. "Yeah. It does — you're sure your mum and dad won't have a problem with it?"

"I'm sure." Pansy gave him a look. "Father will rarely be here, especially with this most recent problem having arisen."

Harry looked at her for a moment, then he nodded. "Alright." That hold of his tightened further. "Merlin. Glad there were only two. Gladder you're alright too."

"I know," Pansy pecked his neck. "Lucky for me, you were there. I was serious too, you know. I'd have you teach me how to cast the Patronus."

"Easy." Harry promised. "Just need a really good memory."

"What do you use?"

He shrugged. "Just about any with you works well enough to conjure it."

"Oh." Pansy's heart fluttered again; how did he always know exactly what to say to woo her? "If you're teaching me this, I can teach you..."

"You're already helping me with potions, you do—" Harry tried to argue, but Pansy was having none of it.

"Potions doesn't count. You were never taught right. I'm only writing Professor Snape's spiteful wrong." Pansy's tone was imperious, and she lifted her nose; he'd not change her mind on what else she could offer aid towards. "Occlumency. Hogwarts doesn't teach it, but most any Pureblood or Half-Blood will have learned it by now. I've had lessons since I was ten — it'll help if anybody ever tries to enter your mind... if you don't know what it is."

Harry seemed to ponder this for all of a moment before he nodded. "Sure. If you're certain it won't bother you."

"It won't. More time with you could never be a bother." Pansy leaned forward and nuzzled him, but the sound of footsteps outside had her groaning.

"Pansy?" Her mom was knocking on her door. "Are you awake?"

"Yes, Mother!" Pansy called back, only now shifting away from Harry and rising to her feet. Her legs and arms shook in that manner a body did after a long sleep, and already, she missed Harry's warmth.

"Your Father's at the Ministry. He gave orders that neither you nor Harry are allowed outside. The house-elves will bring you whatever you desire, and I'll be in the study." Her Mom sounded like she was finished, but then she added something more that made her groan. "If you go in the garden or forest, bring two of the guards with you."

"Guards?" Harry asked as her mother's receding footsteps faded.

"Of course we'd have them," Pansy said with a roll of her eyes. "But usually only split between our businesses. Father must be very angry if he's had a few brought to our home. He's only done that once before, so far as I can recall, and that was for a very long period of time."

Harry only whistled. "Really are a Princess, aren't you? What do they usually do?"

Pansy shrugged. "Guards things?"

Harry's brows rose.

"Stand near the main Floo, patrol the grounds, and make sure nobody comes in or out without permission. I think they're mostly just a deterrent." She wasn't interested in speaking about the hired wands her father often enlisted. No, she'd much rather see Harry bettered in knowledge and abilities alike...

There was an idea.

Pansy had known a few of those men that guarded them since she was a little girl. Father and Mother both seemed to trust those they'd had around longest; there was a reason only a select group were ever allowed to stay 'round them. So, with that in mind, couldn't she have one or two of them aid her and Harry both in learning and bettering themselves?

She'd have to see just what Mother thought in an hour or so of time, after breakfast had been had and the pair had washed.

For now, though, the morning had only just begun.

Pansy looked over at Harry and gave a little wave of her hand to catch his attention. The pair had only just received a notification in regards to the Dementor attack and the Ministry's inquiry; one that went better than Pansy had even dared to hope for. "I told you Mother and Father would see it solved."

"Didn't know your family had that much pull." Harry's eyes went to the slip of parchment. "How d'you reckon they sorted that so quickly?"

"It wasn't them alone. Others, like the Longbottom woman or the Bones' had your side as well. Really, all those who Dumbledore has the favour of, Father just went to Greengrass and the others that tend to stay more towards the centre, and pleaded his case — his daughter and heir to all that he has was attacked by Dementors and you, as the one courting her, took up your wand to defend me." Pansy gave an exaggerated hair flip and batted her lashes.

"Oh yeah?" Harry looked a touch amused. "What does all that mean?"

"They've decided that it was justified, and so no hearing will be needed. They've also sent us a letter." Pansy pointed at the parchment. "The Dementors were acting on orders, apparently. I wonder what sort of lunatic would attack us with Dementors?"

"Not many, I'd wager."

"Well," Pansy sniffed, "Whoever it was won't remain hidden for long. Mother and Father won't stand for this. The Ministry won't either — a few have already expressed their disapproval for an attack on a family such as mine. Whoever they are, we'll see them dealt with."

Harry let out a breath. "Feels strange, having everything go my way."

"Not a stranger thing than a pair of Dementors being used against us." Pansy leaned against his side and rested her head on his shoulder. "Now, why don't we take a look at those Prefect badges again? I'd like to see how we look with them on our Hogwarts uniforms."

"Already thinking about school, are we?"

Pansy gave a shrug. "It'll be a little while longer, but I like seeing how I'd look with my Prefect badge."

"I get it." Harry pressed a kiss to her temple. "Just a little bit longer here?"

That made her snort. "You grown attached, have you?"

"A bit." Harry nodded.

She flushed. She hadn't expected him to just admit to that so openly. Just how bold were Gryffindors in comparison to Slytherins?

"I suppose I'll not begrudge you some extra time cuddling." Pansy looked outside, to where she saw two men dressed in dark wizarding robes walking slow circles around their manor's grounds. They'd not yet asked one of them for lessons or anything else, but the pair would soon enough.

Pansy was growing ever closer to her Harry, and the more he knew, the better he'd be at keeping himself and her safe.

She didn't like that there were people, or perhaps a person, out there that wanted her Harry.

But Pansy wouldn't let them take him.

Pansy cheered Harry on as he dove to the side, a spell only just missing him by the tips of his fingers. She was sure she'd have a heart attack every time she saw him sparring against Orville or Ryland — the two guards she'd picked out to teach them both — but so far, her Harry was holding his own.

"You're improving!" Orville called over the sounds of spell-fire and exertion.

Harry ducked and rolled, then he was back on his feet and running a few paces.

Orville fired another spell.

A Stunner.

"Protego!"

The spell bounced off the Shield Charm.

Harry returned the favour, and when a second spell followed a mere breath later, Harry didn't bother with a shield; no, instead, he ducked low, his leg swung, and in the blink of an eye, the guard was on his arse and staring up at Harry's wand.

"Nicely done," Orville had a grin on his lips, and when Harry held a hand down, the man took it and allowed himself to be pulled up. "Most Magicals won't expect a leg or hand thrown. It makes it all the more fun when you put them on their ars— rear." His eyes went to Pansy, seemingly uncomfortable in speaking so freely with his bosses daughter right beside him.

Pansy had grown bored of sitting, and so she hopped to her feet as she watched Harry summon a glass of water; sweat-soaked and red-faced from his exertions, she smiled and gave him a nod as he downed it in seconds. "You're getting much better."

"Thanks." Harry's chest was still heaving, and he gave Orville a nod. "You've a knack for teaching."

"Nah. I'm just a soldier, is all." Orville gave a wave of his hand.

"A good one, nonetheless," Pansy assured. She wasn't going to have his modesty.

"You'll do well when you get older. Both of you." Orville's gaze flicked between the pair.

"I'm glad," Harry said, and Pansy felt his hand slip into hers.

Orville nodded. "Just remember, don't show any hesitation. Don't give them an opening, and don't think just because a spell doesn't have a visible effect, that it's harmless — now, reckon you two are off for dinner now, is that right? I'll clean up."

"Are you certain?" Pansy frowned. "We can clean up, it's not a problem."

"Nah, you go on." Orville waved the pair off. "I'll have the place cleaned up and the wards reset in a jiffy. Go on, now. Have yourselves an evening together."

"Thank you," Pansy said. She'd see to it that Father or Mother slid a little extra to Orville and Ryland. The pair had been invaluable, and she and Harry both have already shown a few signs of improvement — they'd said those first tips and the greatest indications would be visible early on, when one went from 'rabble to something better' as Ryland had so eloquently put it.

With their new skills in the works, she could see it becoming something great.

"Fancy a detour by the library after we've washed?" Harry asked.

Pansy nodded. "We'll have to ask Father about the other books. The ones in the private section. He's strict with access to them."

"That bad?" Harry knew her family was one such that'd have much most would consider 'dark' or taboo in nature.

Many Purebloods had a few things that were more closely held than others. The Malfoys had a large collection of Dark Arts books, the Greengrasses a large portion on curses, the Blacks had a fair few on blood magic, and the Parkinsons a few books that were rumoured to contain ancient magics and rituals.

If one did but a little bit of digging, it wouldn't be too hard in finding what each of the ancient families specialised in early in their history.

"It's not too terrible." Pansy gave a little shrug. "We should hurry, though. We have dinner, then our Occlumency lessons, and after that, we'll read what tome we decide on for the night in my room."

"Your room?"

Pansy blinked at him. "I have the larger bed." It was obvious hers was the better choice; her sheets were carefully picked out too, hence the softness that had her wanting to melt into them.

"Ah, yeah."

Pansy couldn't stop the little smile as Harry flushed. He was still so easy to fluster, and she was still just as easily pleased when he reacted that way. It meant her beauty was real as she'd always known.

"Walk me to the table." And with those parting words, Pansy pushed away to her room; she'd meet him after she had a nice long and hot bath.

Pansy groaned.

Father had just informed her that nearly one-thousand Galleons had been spent in-tandem with the Greengrasses and Carrows to the Prophet so as to keep the Malfoys from running smear pieces on Harry — ever since he'd claimed Voldemort had returned after Cedric had died, the Malfoys and a portion of the Ministry itself had seen fit to call him a liar and a lunatic.

It wasn't only he they'd wanted to discredit either. Dumbledore had been a target too, but the man had not the sway or galleons to buy off the Prophet as her family and their friends did.

"It's a lot of gold," Pansy said with a sigh. "But the damage would've been worse if we'd not."

Those words were said aloud to herself before she tossed aside the parchment. The Prophet would continue its coverage on the 'growing relationship' between her and Harry, and speak little and less in way to prove truly bothersome. In truth, it was better those articles that spoke of their 'forbidden' romance than those that would see Harry attacked by the public.

She wouldn't forget this either.

The Prophet controlled the public, and their loyalty was to naught but gold at the end of the day.

Lucky for her, whilst her family couldn't match the Malfoys galleon for galleon, those close to them could do so without a problem. She supposed her cousins Hestia and Flora had come through once more.

She'd have to make sure her father gave them a nice little Yule gift at the end of the year.

It was time, she thought, to see her Harry. He'd be wondering where she was by now, no doubt.

With a hum, Pansy headed down the hall, and to his room, where she entered without a knock.

He was sat on the balcony, which itself was visible from the open doorway, and was looking out across the rolling fields, and the small copse of trees that lay a few paces away.

"No Orville or Ryland today. Father has them taking a well-deserved day to themselves." Pansy plopped down atop his lap, and wrapped an arm 'round back of his neck. "We can do more Occlumency, speak of politics, or we could have a little duel, just the two of us in the backyard."

Harry grinned. "Duel."

That made her arch a brow. "Think you'll best me, do you, Potter?" She injected that old haughtiness that had so often accompanied her during the first three years at Hogwarts, and smirked when he flushed.

"You're too good at that." He grumbled at her.

Pansy giggled, and leaned forward, brushing a kiss across his nose. When she pulled back and looked him in the eyes, she gave him, a wink. "At least you know it's little more than a game — a witch has to keep you on her toes, doesn't she? Otherwise, you'd think it'd be easy."

"Oh, no. I know it's never easy."

Pansy's smirk was a wicked thing.

And then they were off for their duel.

She hadn't a doubt in her mind that she'd win... but she could make him work for it. Well, she hoped, at the very least. If he absolutely trounced her, she'd be very cross with herself. Pansy wouldn't be some weak and useless witch that needed protecting. No, she'd be a witch that was worth fighting alongside, not fighting for.

Pansy threw up a shield and summoned a loose bit of tree bark, and flung it at her opponent.

"Stupefy!" Harry bellowed.

Her shield deflected the spell, but the strength in his spell was such that the bit of wood shattered and was scattered around them.

"Incarcerous!" She shouted, wand waving.

A length of rope shot towards him.

Harry didn't even look. He intercepted the rope with his wand, and sent it straight back at her. She hadn't thought he'd do that, and the rope wrapped her wrist, and yanked. Pansy fell forward, but with a surge of adrenaline and a show of athleticism she didn't know she possessed, she rolled, and landed on her side.

"Finite!"

The rope was gone.

"Impedimenta!" Harry cast the spell just as he was turning, and it was all Pansy could do to throw herself back, and onto her bum, to avoid being struck in the head with a curse that would've left her a touch woozy.

Pansy rolled again, but then Harry shot forth, and grabbed her wand hand.

She yelped.

And then Harry was atop her.

That grin he sported was devilish, and his green eyes twinkled. "Looks like I've won, Princess."

"Humph," Pansy let out a huff, and blew a bit of hair from her face. "Best of three?"

"I think I'd rather have my victory kiss."

That brought a smile to her lips.

"Well, come and get it."

Another few days later, Pansy saw fit to challenge Harry to a true best of three.

She was not going to lose, even if the first bout had gone in his favour. There was no Orville or Ryland, just the two of them near the treeline, where a secondary set of practice wards were set up. Obviously, no truly harmful or dangerous spells were permitted, but they had a full array of non-harmful, yet highly effective spells to choose from, many of which they'd learned together via the Parkinson library, books from Hogwarts, and gifts from her cousins.

Hestia and Flora would have to visit soon, and seeing how she and Harry were locked up 'til Hogwarts started for the sake of their safety, they'd have plenty of time.

"Ready, Pans?"

"Don't get cocky, Potter."

Harry smirked. "Me? Cocky? Just planning on getting a nice victory kiss again. I rather enjoyed the last one."

"We'll see who kisses whom, won't we?" Pansy said, a smirk on her lips. "Three!"

"Two," Harry called out.

"One!"

"Begin!" They said in unison.

Pansy ducked and rolled, and fired off a hex, and then another, and a third, all of which Harry deflected or countered. Unlike him, she relied not on the power of her magic, but the sheer speed which she could cast with. Her slight frame was a blessing, as was her nimbleness. She couldn't move as physically fast as him, but she had a certain grace and fluidity to her movements that aided her in dodging.

Mother had been a duelling champion back in Hogwarts, and her tutelage had given Pansy an edge over others. Even now, she and Father would have little play fights here and there, and every time, it was the same; whilst Father had the power and the experience, she had the same attributes as Pansy, but she'd mastered them and cast with a certain cunning, always incorporating spells that weren't typically used in duels.

"Protego!" Harry blocked a stunning spell, then cast a counter hex.

Pansy dove behind a tree, and shot off another spell.

This time, she hit very near to him, as she desired, and when a red-tinged cloud exploded, her ears were filled with a cacophony of squeaks.

Bats, hundreds of bats, came swarming out.

"Bugger!" Harry yelled.

Pansy laughed, and dove to the side, avoiding an errant spell that came her way. She was running, then, and heard him behind her. He'd no doubt been forced to disperse the bats. That was the problem with creatures and conjured beings. They weren't the most reliable of things, and whilst useful in a duel as a distraction, they didn't tend to fare too well.

But in truth, Pansy didn't care about winning. She was having a blast, and seeing Harry try to catch her was making her heart pound and her lips pull up into a smile.

She ran through the woods, and he was hot on her tail, and then, she slipped.

Her foot caught a tree root, and Pansy was sent flying forward; but she didn't make contact with the ground, no, instead, strong arms wrapped her middle, and she was saved from the fall.

"Gotcha," Harry said, breathing heavily.

"Mm," Pansy hummed, and turned in his arms, and leaned up to brush a kiss across his cheek. "I suppose you win again. You must really like my kisses."

Harry smiled. "Or you like giving them." he grinned when he pulled back, and she followed for a half-second's time. "Best two out of three, remember?"

She narrowed her eyes — then she darted up, and stole a kiss from him. "I do." He'd learned much from her, so it was only fair she steal a sliver of his boldness; it brought a flush to her cheeks to do. "Carry me back for our second match? That's much too far to walk."

"I thought the victor was supposed to demand special treatment?" Harry asked.

Pansy arched an eyebrow. "Victor doesn't equate to Princess, does it?"

Harry laughed, and hefted her up, into his arms, and began walking. "Guess it doesn't."

Pansy smiled, and snuggled into his arms, content to be held aloft by those strong arms of his after having run into the wilderness.

Who knew too, maybe this act would see him a touch more tired for their second — and potentially final — duel, and perhaps, she could have her victory.

How sweet it'd be to win the second and third parts of their duel.

"You start." Harry said, and raised his wand.

He'd decided she could go first.

"What a gentleman." Pansy smirked at him, and then, her face turned serious. "Incarcerous!"

Harry stepped aside, and cast his own counter.

The pair were off.

They circled each other, firing spell after spell. The first one had been a warm up, and this was the true duel. They were both sweating, and the sun was beating down upon them, but Pansy wouldn't relent. She'd been on the losing side of the previous two duels, and it was time for her to take the upper hand.

She threw out a Stupefy, which he deflected, and fired back a stunning curse that she leapt to the side to dodge.

Harry was grinning.

"Expelliarmus!" He shouted.

Pansy threw up a shield.

"Reducto!" She sent the blasting curse right back at him.

It was a spell of such a force that Harry was blown back, and landed flat on his bum.

Pansy was quick, and ran, and then jumped, and when she landed atop him, Harry was looking up at her, a dazed expression on his face.

"Looks like I won."

He looked down, at his feet, and saw very near to them a bundle of rope. "Thought you'd missed that by a long-shot. You planned to trip me, didn't you?"

She grinned. "I can't beat you otherwise. You're more powerful, but I have the advantage of having been raised a Slytherin long before Hogwarts started for us. Mother and Father saw to that."

Harry let out a laugh. "Alright, Princess, I concede."

"Hmmm," She made a show of thinking. "Should I get up? Or should I have my victory kiss right here and now?"

"You haven't won yet." Harry sat up, one arm supporting her. "But if you think you'll just lose, you can say it and I'll give you your kiss."

Pansy arched a brow at him, and rose up and away from him, dancing back to where she'd started. "I'll get it in a moment, once you've lost come soon enough."

"If you say so," Harry smirked.

She didn't wait. Pansy launched right back into the duel, and the pair exchanged volleys of hexes, and counter-curses. The heat was making her sweat, and her hair was plastered to her forehead, but she pressed on, intent on victory.

It came with a stunning spell.

But not one of hers.

Pansy had misstepped, and Harry's spell had connected. She was falling, and she'd not a moment to throw up a shield, and then, Harry was summoning her wand, and catching her, and laying her down on the ground.

"Looks like I win," He grinned down at her.

"Not a bad consolation prize." She reached up, and tugged him down by the front of his shirt, and claimed 'his' kiss.

They parted after a few seconds, and Pansy was still a little winded. "I hope you know... you're carrying me... back to my room."

"Is that an order?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

He let out a little laugh, and scooped her up.

Pansy sighed as she looked out from her balcony across her family's land.

Hogwarts started again on the morrow, and still, the investigation into who'd used the Dementors to attack them had gotten them nowhere. Little and less had come out in the way of the Dark Lord as well... Harry hadn't been pleased about that, but she'd had to tell him it was better he and Dumbledore weren't attacked by the Prophet than trying to force the majority to accept his return; his reputation, and the Headmaster's mattered.

"You're brooding again." Harry came up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her middle.

Pansy leaned back into his embrace, and hummed. "Am I not allowed to do so? Whoever attacked us has yet to be caught. That's tedious, and showcases the incompetence or willful ignorance the Ministry is full-up with." She sighed. "At least Father convinced the Ministry to add a dedicated Auror contingent. Dumbledore and those that're fond of him agreed with the suggestion."

"Can only imagine Malfoy's look. Aurors aren't fond of his family or the company he keeps."

She smirked, and turned in his arms. "I'd pay to see it. I should've asked Father to use a wizarding camera."

Harry snorted. "You have one?"

"I wished we did." Pansy shook her head. "It's too Muggle for us to be seen using. Even if I'm dating you, Mother and Father do have a certain reputation they must maintain."

"Reckon that'll ever change?"

Pansy shrugged. "Magic and Muggle machines don't work well together. Until it does, I doubt any of it will be used by most."

"That's a shame. Reckon magic could do with some new ideas."

She agreed.

Pansy huffed as she took in the Hogwarts Express.

Hestia and Flora were nearby, and Daphne and Tracey were already growing near to them.

"Aren't you lucky?" Pansy asked as she gave his hand a little tug. "You get to sit with five Slytherin witches."

Harry shook his head. "Lucky is just you and I."

Those words made her eyes go wide and the fiercest of blushes come forth. That was... very forward.

"Uh, sounds a bit bad, that, doesn't it?" Harry asked, his own face a tad red.

"Wasn't that your intention?" Pansy raised a hand to her chest. "The big bad Lion come to pounce on a helples—"

Harry pulled her close, the act of boldness with so many others around silencing her.

"One more kiss? Before we sit with the others?"

Pansy licked her lips. "You've gotten a bit addicted, haven't you?"

"To the best kisses in the world?" Harry smirked. "Reckon so."

"Quickly." Pansy wanted that flush on her face to stop, and the easiest way to do that, was to give him that kiss he wanted... yes, it was all him. She didn't clutch his robes to keep the contact for an extra second or so.

Nearly ten minutes later and in that compartment, who'd have thought the first words would come from Tracey, and make mention of that kiss?

"You two look so sweet together." Tracey clapped her hands together, and looked over at Hestia and Flora. "Don't they?"

Before any answer could be given, Daphne flicked Tracey's ear, and gave her a look.

"Ouch! Why'd you do that?" Tracey whined.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Because, you're teasing."

Pansy snickered. "Did any of you read the Prophet?"

Tracey, again, was the first to speak. "Duh! You two were brought up a half-dozen times — enough that Witch Weekly promises to do a story on the pair of you. But Morgana, Skeeter can't write anything romantic and ha… I get carried away, I can't help it."

Harry chuckled.

"You'll have to get used to it, Harry. Tracey's only going to speak more and more as she gets comfortable around you." Daphne then gestured to the Carrows. "You two don't mingle much. I'm sure Pansy and Harry both wouldn't mind hearing from you."

Hestia looked up from her book, and smiled.

"Well," She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "We believe the match better made than most."

Flora picked up when Hestia's mouth closed. "And it gladdens us to see Pansy pleased. Malfoy is far from a good match for any witch."

Tracey made a noise in her throat. "You two definitely seemed in Potter's corner."

The Carrows replied as one. "It's worked out."

Pansy shook her head at their serious answer, and looked over at Harry.

He was grinning.

"Wanna go find a wizard for me next?"

Daphne sighed at Tracey's question, but Harry and Pansy shared a laugh.

As for Hestia and Flora, they simply looked betwixt each other with a clear thought in mind.

As their trip was truly underway, the vast countryside flying past them, Pansy found herself snuggling into Harry sans care of what her cousins or companions might think. Unlike other houses — save for Tracey — there'd be no teasing or jokes of an inappropriate nature made.

The quiet of their compartment was broken after a few moments.

But not by any of the usual suspects.

It was Flora. "Have you heard about the Ministry's most recent meddling?"

"You've been quiet, if you have." Hestia added.

Then, together, the pair finished. "Malfoy might need planning around."

Pansy narrowed her eyes, and shifted a bit, so that she and Harry were closer. Then, she looked over at her cousins — Father hadn't mentioned anything more, so what had he failed to inform her of? "What was it?"

"They desired a Ministry official be installed as our newest Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts." Hestia started, and then, Flora finished. "Your father was called away before the voting had begun. A meeting with one of the Directors, I believe Father said."

Hestia picked up again. "Ours was able to see any votes that might falter restored, so that the position would remain open for a person of the Headmaster's choosing after the lack of confidence in the Ministry following your attack. They had no chance in seeing it through."

"It was an attempt at reestablishing their influence, one of many that they'll have, if Father's right." Pansy shook her head. "I wonder who the Headmaster put into the position instead. I suppose we'll have to wait and see. And, thank you, Cousins."

Harry and Pansy were walking hand-in-hand towards the Great Hall, an eagerness about them in seeing who the newest Professor would be.

"It's almost certainly somebody known to him, and not one hired by way of interview alone. The Headmaster wouldn't put somebody in that's simply applied after getting the Ministry denied its right to install a Professor — there'd be a chance that person was the one in which eh didn't want." Pansy cocked her head at Harry, who'd simply been looking her over. "What?"

"You love this sort of thing, don't you?" Harry asked. "The mystery and the politics of it."

"Yes." Pansy nodded. "It's fun. Much better than being forced to attend those dinners or meetings that Mother and Father drag me along to."

"Still have to do many of them?" Harry asked.

Pansy hummed. "Not as many. I'm not expected to be a proper Pureblood daughter any longer, not with our being together. Only a portion of those we formerly spent time with persist in friendship, but with those paths closed, new ones have opened up that more than make up for the lack of previous business."

"So you've got the freedom you wanted?"

Pansy looked at him curiously. "That's a charming way of putting it. I suppose I have. I'm even free to experience Muggle places with you — I'd never had much of a desire to do so, but you've given it a sense of appeal."

Harry smiled, and tightened the hand holding hers.

Then the pair entered the Great Hall proper, and she gave his hand a little tug. "Sit with me."

He sent a look over to his table, but followed after her to a spot where Daphne, Tracey and her cousins were already sat. "You'll have to join me one of these nights over at the Gryffindor table. Think 'Mione wouldn't mind getting to know you a bit more."

Pansy hummed, and sat down, Harry following suit. "She's the witch you spent most of your time with in school, isn't she? You must have a great deal of affection for her."

Harry nodded. "Like a sister."

"I suppose I'll try and spend more time with her. She'll not speak of her teeth-fixers, will she?" Pansy hadn't enjoyed the graphic nature of Granger's words.

Harry laughed. "Only if you bring it up."

"Never." Pansy shuddered.

And then, their food was appearing, and she let out a little sigh. There were so many sweets — her favourite pudding amongst them.

"Look at the table." Tracey said, nodding towards where the staff table was. "Looks like we've a new Professor."

The group turned their attention to the staff table, and there was indeed a new wizard in their midst.

"Isn't that one of the Weasleys?" Tracey looked to Harry. He'd been the one to live with them before Pansy had 'stolen' him; Daphne she imagined, like her, remembered he was either Charlie or Bill. They'd heard of the eldest before.

She didn't detest them as she previously had, they'd been kind to Harry, and hadn't made a pass at his wealth or name... but was any member of that family qualified to teach? Hadn't most only just graduated these past few years?

"Bill," Harry said. "He's good."

"How good could he be if he's only just graduated?" Daphne asked, her gaze still fixed on the new Professor. "Hasn't he only worked with dragons? Or is that the other?"

Harry shrugged. "Dumbledore thought he was good enough, and 'only' dragons is still more than most, isn't it? It's not like he can be worse than Lockhart either."

"Or Squirrel." Tracey added.

Pansy hummed, and leaned in close to Harry; even at Hogwarts, she could be content as ever.

"We'll see soon enough." Her eyes drifted up the table, to Draco; he was looking where they were, at the newest Professor. Evidently, the thought of a Weasley teaching them was a sour one. She wasn't especially fond of it either, given Ron hadn't been the best of friends, and the Twins would only exchange short words where once there'd been many.

"What is it?" Harry asked, noticing her gaze.

"I'm imagining how sour Draco will prove to be in class." Pansy let out a snort when a new thought struck her. "If he proves too bothersome, he could lose his Prefect status. Morgana, could any of you imagine him getting given a detention by a Weasley?"

The laughter that ensued was quiet, but true. Even Hestia and Flora seemed amused at the thought based on the little smiles they wore and the way they raised their hands to their mouths to try and stifle their own amusement.

Thankfully, Harry took it for what it was too; a joke, one that didn't demean the Weasleys, and only showcased Draco's way of thinking.

"First class with Bill here soon." Harry adjusted his tie and looked at her; the pair had opted to sit side by side, with Granger and Weasl— Ronald, in-front of them, and Daphne and Tracey to their right.

"Where do you think he'll fall in?" Pansy asked, curious with the start so soon.

"Better than Lockhart, I'm sure." Daphne added. "And as Tracey said, Squirrel."

"He'll be good as Lupin was." Ron said so with a glance over his shoulder. He seemed confident in that — she imagined that it was his brother's classroom that gave him a sense of certainty.

Granger's answer was diplomatic. "He'll be better than most we've had, and genuinely kind-hearted." A clear dig at the faux Moody last year.

"I hope we have practical lessons." Daphne said, her voice full of confidence. "I'm rather tired of all the reading most Professors have us doing."

"Thought you liked History."

Daphne and Hermione answered as one, just as her cousins did. "What's wrong with History?"

The pair shared a look while Pansy stifled a giggle and gave Harry's arm a little tug. Those two, for all their differences and the competition between them, were so much alike it was amusing.

"Do yo—" Pansy paused when the tell-tale sign of a door opening came from up above and before them.

Her eyes — most of the classes, she imagined — went to the stairs that led up, into the office of this years DADA classroom. Bill Weasley stepped out from the room, and smiled at the lot of them, his apparel so casual and non-magical, one would think him a student ready for a trip to Hogsmeade... albeit one that looked a bit older than most.

"Good morning." His eyes roamed the lot of them, and she wondered if he were looking at all the Slytherins. Most of the teachers hadn't taken kindly to any house, but especially not theirs. "For those that don't know me, I'm Bill Weasley, your new Professor."

"Aren't you a bit young for a Professor?" The question was voiced by one of the many students sat with them.

Bill raised a hand to his chin, and nodded. "Yes. I'm a bit younger than most, and it's a position that's been offered to me after working abroad."

"Where?" Another student asked.

"A place with dragons. That's where most of my experience comes from, so I'm sure you'll learn a lot this year." Bill grinned.

There was a collective intake of air from the lot of them.

Dragons?!

"What?" The voice of the girl she'd seen on the platform sounded out.

"A joke. Only the Seven Years get to dance with dragons." Bill danced on down the stairs, and came to a stop behind his desk. "We'll focus mainly on defensive magic, in truth. Shield charms, summoning debris or other materials to intercept spells, and the like."

"Will we learn offensive spells?" It was Draco who asked, a smirk on his face. "We can't solely defend ourselves, Professor."

Bill nodded. "You're exactly right. You can't focus on nothing but defence — you have to learn how to get away too. Distractions, trickery, anything to pull attention from yourself is an option. The more creative you are, the better. We'll have plenty of examples throughout the year. Now, I think I'd like to see what each of you are capable of this first set of classes. I'll pair you up, you'll have a friendly duel before the class, and we'll slowly go 'round until everybody's had three chances." He summoned parchment, and had one sheet placed before each and every student. "Those of you watching will take notes of issues in a classmate's fighting, or something notable that could be used as an advantage in the future. You're not trying to harm anybody, so only spells that wouldn't cause a serious injury or kill are allowed. Wards are placed, but let's not test them, yes?"

"Are there any questions?"

"Why three rounds, sir?" One of the Gryffindors, Dean, she thought, asked.

"Because once or twice didn't feel quite good enough." Bill gave a nod at that same Slytherin. "You'll get to go first too..."

"Dean," The boy supplied.

Bill grinned. "Thank you. Dean." His eyes scanned the Slytherins next. "And let's see — you. Goyle, isn't it?"

Gregory nodded, his head hanging a bit.

"Good. So, Dean, if you'll take the stage with Gregory here. Anybody else have a question?"

Pansy leaned in close, and whispered to Harry. "This is a rather unorthodox way of starting a class."

Harry's reply was eager as he looked at the two boys taking their spot on a 'stage' that'd risen up from the ground from a flick of their Professor's wand. "We're going to learn a lot though."

"I hope I get to trounce Lavender." Pansy's eyes went past him, to the aforementioned witch. "She's been looking over here far too much."

Harry shook his head, but his lips curled upwards. "Behave."

"Never."

As one had suspected, Goyle emerged victorious, his years of experience pre-Hogwarts the only thing keeping him afloat against an opponent who was nearly as good, with far fewer years of having Magic to his advantage.

Draco seemed to find that amusing, however, for he commented loud and for all to hear as his dog sought his side once more. "Not a real test, is it?"

Professor Weasley raised a brow. "Would you like to come up then? Face off against..." The man's eyes snapped her way, or more accurately, Harry's; she hoped he wasn't fool— "Harry. Would you care for a go?"

Draco's expression was a mix of pride and anger at the mention of Potter. His enemy turned all the more so, given he'd 'stolen' Pansy away from him, and was the reason why his father's power-base was weakened.

Harry's own response was to stand, and make his way up the steps. "Can do." He looked back, and sent her a grin. Undoubtedly, he was very pleased at the prospect of a duel with Malfoy, and before the eyes of their class. Maybe he'd knock Draco down another peg or two; Harry'd have her and another victory after all the issues Draco had caused him.

Maybe, if Draco persisted in being problematic, she'd see a story given to the Prophet that the Malfoy's would have to spend no small amount to prevent from spreading. One that spoke of a stolen witch he'd been courting by Harry, the Arch-Enemy and wizard that'd bested him time and time again. How would their peers view him then, or the public?

Her lips curled into a smile. It would be quite amusing, wouldn't it?

Pansy huffed and shook her head. Mother and Daphne each had filled her head with too much fun.

She didn't need that drama, and she imagined, nor did Harry — it'd have to be but a fun thought. Bit that didn't mean Draco would get away with meddling in her and Harry's relationship. No, if he proved bothersome, she'd see him suffer, if only just a little. Harry wasn't fond of such things, so she'd keep them quiet, and small.

Professor Weasley's voice broke her out of her reverie, and she blinked, and focused.

"To your spots, you two."

Pansy watched the pair, and was happy to see Harry was smiling and taking this as if it were a moment of levity. She knew Draco was better than their average peer, but Harry had strength and a more refined control on account of their recent, numerous lessons. His repertoire of spells was larger too, even if he'd seldom used many of them against her — he'd taken it easy regardless of her desires.

How sweet of him, but Morgana, had it frustrated her at the time.

Her eyes switched to Draco, grinning when she saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

He must be realizing he may have bitten off more than he could chew.

"On my mark, you two." Bill Weasley raised a hand. "Three, two, one — begin!"

Pansy watched, her eyes darting between the pair. Harry was quicker to draw his wand, and sent a spell Draco's way. A curse, one meant to send the other flying, but that was a ruse; he followed it up immediately with a spell that'd see Draco's legs bound.

But the blond was fast too, and was casting a shield, which blocked both curses, and a third from Harry.

Harry overcame it with a shield-breaking charm so strong that it sent Draco stumbling backwards. He tried to regain his footing, but his feet were already frozen in place.

"Done!" Bill called out, and gave a wave of his hand as he put a shield between the two. "Well done, both of you. Harry, good use of utility spells. Anybody like to say their thoughts?" He looked for hands in the crowd. "Pansy, what did you think of the match?"

Draco scowled her way.

As for Pansy herself, she began to wonder if Professor Weasley knew of her and Harry; why else would he pick her if not to aggravate Draco?

Ah well, she wasn't one to decline a good opportunity. Not one that was all but gifted as if it were Yule.

"Draco was defensive throughout the majority of the fight. Harry was more versatile in his attacks. Draco was much too slow and uncertain upon his feet." She cocked her head as if a thought had just occurred. "I'd thought Quidditch would've had them both equally fit, but it seems Draco needs a bit more work; it's surely an advantage most of us lack."

That was enough, she supposed — the snickers and laughter that rose up from the lot of them was enough to make Draco's face turn a bright shade of red.

She caught Harry's eye as the pair made back for their seats and hid a giggle behind one dainty hand; Harry's amusement was plain as day.

When he slid into the space at her side and watched together with her as Draco moved passed them, to where he'd once been sitting, she had to resist the urge to press her lips against his own. If only to press further salt into those boyish wounds of his. It was disgusting to think once she'd desired little more than to be the future Lady Malfoy.

"Good job, Harry." Pansy gave his arm a squeeze.

Harry's gaze was on her, and his mouth quirked upward. "Had to tease him, didn't you?" There was naught but amusement in his voice as he whispered while Professor Weasley called forth the next two pairs.

"Of course." Pansy looked to the front. "You can't expect me to let such an opportunity slip, now can you? Not when your friend offered him up the way he did."

"He did do that, didn't he?" Harry laughed softly, and shook his head.

The two shared a laugh, quiet and private, while the next set of duelers faced off against one another.

Pansy would readily admit that watching him best Malfoy before the class had made him out to be all the more appealing.

She'd show as much once this lesson was over, and the pair were free to walk the grounds.

"On my mark."

Professor Weasley's voice drew her from her admiration of Harry, and she let her eyes go to the new pair, Daphne and Granger.

This would be a match.

Chapter Text

Pansy was sat gazing at Harry as he read from one of the many tomes he'd picked out with her and Granger; the latter had already gone off, back to Ronald's side, but Pansy and Harry had stayed, sequestered in a dark corner of Hogwarts' monolithic library. It was a perfect spot to hide themselves, and steal a moment's peace away from prying eyes.

"It's quite nice, isn't it?"

He looked up from the book, and cocked his head. "What's that?"

"The library." Pansy ran her hand over the cover of a book. "Being here with you. There's no tournament looming overhear, nor murderer on the prowl. Maybe we'll finally have a year where things go smoothly."

Harry didn't seem to believe that, but he did offer her a little smile. "If we do, it'll be the first."

"Firsts always eventually occur." Pansy leaned forward, and pressed a soft kiss against his cheek... and then, thanks to the impropriety Tracey had instilled within her, she recognised just how that might sound, and felt her cheeks grow aflame. "That is to say—"

He smiled and leaned towards her. "You're all pink."

She 'slapped' away a hand that went to prod at her, and crossed her arms. "Oh, hush."

Harry leaned back and grinned. "I see what you mean now — there's no rush to do anything other than assignments, and those aren't exactly tough, are they?"

Pansy held back a snort and comment in regards to his friends; if Seamus or Ronald could hand them in and continue to pass, then most certainly she and Harry could do so in half the time for twice the marks. "Not remotely." She assured him, then, she shifted closer so that their knees were touching.

Harry's gaze went back to his book as she leaned into him, and spoke again. "I'll need to stay close to you all the same, given what'd occurred over the summer — Father couldn't very well send guards here, after all, so you'll have to do."

Harry looked up again, amusement clear. "So, I'm the best he can manage, huh?"

Pansy smirked. "The very best. Not only that 'he can manage'." She pressed a kiss to the stubble of his cheek to further her point. "Now, I'll let you read. Let me know when you're finished... and I'll let you know when I desire help in learning this defense spell." It was his expertise, after all, and as partners, each should benefit from the knowledge of the other.

And so, they both did as she'd said; she began to read her own book, and Harry, his.

There was nothing like it; peace, mayhaps even boredom.

Pansy had been waiting with — she still couldn't believe it herself — Granger and Bones whilst Professor Weasley kept Harry back for some conversation.

"Do you know what's going on?" Hermione asked her, curious.

"No. I've no idea. With the Professor being a Weasley, I'd have imagined you or Bones would be more likely to know, rather than I." Pansy's family had not so much as one Weasley contact, and she, whilst knowledgeable of their names and a few of their traits, tended to do the same. Were it not for Harry, she'd not have stood within a dozen steps of any of them.

But at least this professor seemed all right. Better mannered than the twins, Ronald or the girl.

After such a thought, Harry emerged from the classroom's door; it'd barely been a couple of minutes... which meant whatever they'd discussed had been kept very brief.

"Well?" Pansy prompted, folding her arms and cocking her head to one side; lest it was something truly private, which he'd say, she was curious what it could have been.

Harry looked at her, then the other two present, and held up a slip of parchment. "The Professor says I can lead a Defense Club with his permission since there's so many people and the hands-on part of his lessons won't allow for everybody to get enough time as he'd like."

"Oh." Pansy was impressed. That was rather smart thinking, and it'd allow for others to learn how skilled Harry was — dozens would likely grow used to him instructing them, and when he was out of Hogwarts, slipping into a Wizengamot seat or some sort of upper-Ministry position would come easy. "And you'll do so, yes?"

He nodded, and stuffed the parchment in a pocket. "It'll give us a chance to get through more of the books we've been looking at, and besides, people need to know how to defend themselves, now that..."

Hermione picked up without letting that linger. "Most of the years we've had DADA have been useless. It's a good choice, Harry. We can help you. Right?" She looked towards Susan and Pansy, the former of which gave an encouraging smile, and as for Pansy herself.

Well, she wasn't especially keen at the prospect of teaching others freely, especially if all could learn.

So she had a question first. "And who can join? Anybody? Or is there some sort of limit?"

"I was told I'd need to figure that out in a way that won't cause any problems."

"Then, perhaps, you and I can do so later." Pansy looked at the other girls. "It's a wonderful idea, Harry, but Draco and others could seek to make an issue out of it." She was fairly certain he'd do just that. Unless, he had a group of his own that Snape could spearhead in answer to Weasley's with Potter.

She smiled as Granger spoke, the girl's words going by unheard as she thought of how to counter her and Harry's mutual issue... and then she was very distracted by thoughts of how it'd become their mutual problem — to think her and Harry would be so close, and her and Draco, enemies.

Life was funny, sometimes.

And yet, her cousins were always right.

Hestia and Flora.

"Pansy?" Harry waved his hand in front of her. "Alright, Pans?"

"Perfectly fine." Pansy smiled at him. "I was just thinking about a means of keeping issues from arising."

Harry looked confused, but she was sure, he'd figure out soon enough that she'd thought of something to keep Draco from trying to destroy his new club.

It'd be a good surprise.

"Snakes and their scheming." Had the comment come from Granger rather than Bones, Pansy'd have taken offense. But she'd known Susan for the whole of her childhood. They'd gone to the same events, be they Ministry or for the old-blooded.

"And all for our benefit." Pansy added, then, she reached out and took up Harry's hand, and began to pull him away.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, amused.

"One of the unused common rooms with a hearth." Pansy gave the other witches a look. "Aren't you coming? Or are you going to leave the planning to Harry and I? We could use somebody's input."

Both nodded and fell into step.

Pansy was pleased, and she could tell Harry was too; having all three of them offer some help was surely welcome. Ron, Dean, Seamus or the Twins — all the boys closest to him, that was — weren't likely to be of any assistance given the level of jokes they stooped to and the trouble they'd often find themselves in.

Pansy sent a look over to Hestia and Flora, the pair sat together, reading from one tome; one would flip the pages, the other would set to work making notes. They'd switch from time to time, each going for various old-seeming tomes from their matching satchels.

"What's so interesting?" She asked.

"Potions and Charms." Hestia turned her head to regard her.

Flora nodded. "Our assignments are due next week, but we seek an O."

"We think we could manage it quite easily, with enough time." The pair finished together,and then they shared a look; one that saw each turning their attention back to her. "You and Harry are well?"

"Very well." Pansy's reply was quick. "Thank you."

The pair exchanged another look; Hestia spoke. "We're glad we were right."

"You both seem better-off." Flora hummed, tracing a hand down the page before her.

Pansy couldn't deny that. "We are."

"Then, our efforts are worthwhile." The twins said as one, and returned their gazes to their books, and each other.

That seemed that, Pansy supposed. She could leave them alone and return to her own work.

Which she'd truthfully gone rather bored of. She doubted save for Granger or Greengrass, there were very few at all that truly enjoyed going about and finishing their tasks on time, much less early or in advance.

So Pansy waved her wand, and saw her belongings packed up. She'd go find Harry and the others; maybe, she'd even ask if he fancied taking her on a flight; Ronald had been the one that won the rights to Keeper for Gryffindor, so she'd be a little less inclined to wear Gryffindor colours or apparel.

She'd certainly not take part in the song either — the one Draco had begun to make.

Morgana.

It was so strange not having a murderer or creature to worry about, or others present from other schools; this seemed nearly as peaceful as their first year had been... well, hers, anyway. From what Harry had said about his own, it'd been far from.

Pansy fixed Harry with a smile as he slid into the seat beside her own, each finished with their respective Prefect duties for the evening.

"Any trouble?"

He shook his head. "Not this go of things. Most of the firsties seem settled in enough now. You and the baby snakes?"

Pansy tutted. "Hatchlings."

"Hatchlings." Harry amended, and offered a small grin.

"No trouble whatsoever. Slytherins no matter the year tend to adjust well. We're used to being away from our parents, after all." Pansy looked up as a few younger kids ran by, giggles and all.

Harry did the same. "Guess they think it's pretty peaceful too."

"It does feel a lot like the first year." Pansy's lips curled upward. "Only, this time around, I can stand you."

"Stand me, is it?" Harry cocked a brow, his grin widening as he closed the distance between them; she didn't move away, not even a little.

"Maybe a bit more than that." Pansy allowed, and reached a hand out, fingers trailing down his arm, and then she pressed closer, her head atop his shoulder.

There, Harry pressed a kiss to her lips. Gentle and quick, but no less pleasing. He let out a sigh as he relaxed and settled, and looked ahead at the students as they made their way about the corridors.

"Feeling old, are we?" Pansy asked, her lips twitching.

"A bit."

She gave him a playful nudge. "We aren't."

"No." Harry looked towards the ceiling, his head resting against hers. "Suppose I'm just enjoying everything while I can."

That drew a frown from her. All had been going well, and there was no reason to think otherwise would happen throughout the year. "We'll be fine, as will our friends, now, thanks to you."

"Us."

He was rather emphatic, and so, she couldn't disagree. "Us, then."

Harry ran a hand through her hair, making her shiver, and speak another question. "You wanted to meet with the whole of the group before December, didn't you?"

He gave a nod and continued the motions, which drew a hum of pleasure from her. "I do, and before Christmas break, when most'll go off for the holidays."

"You're joining us, don't forget." Pansy reminded him.

"Wouldn't miss it." Harry's grin was all too apparent in his voice, and so she gave him a poke in the side.

"Cheeky. You're lucky you're so warm." Pansy settled in and closed her eyes. She was comfortable and content, and would likely fall asleep, though she didn't doubt Harry would wake her in a couple of minutes, before either grew stiff.

She didn't mind, nor would she complain, not if this was what it'd be like for the rest of their years at Hogwarts.

Pansy huffed as she, Harry and Granger poked around the place that Dobby had made mention of. On the seventh floor as it was, Pansy''d had to walk a distance with Harry and the muggle-born witch.

"Do you suppose we'll actually find it?"

Granger was looking between the two, as if she hoped either would know the answer.

"I think so." Harry's reply was confident. "Dobby didn't tell us the location for nothing."

Granger didn't seem quite so assured. "We could walk past it a dozen times... he did say the left corridor, right? On the seventh floor?"

"Right." Pansy agreed, though she couldn't help but wonder the same thing, if not a bit more than Granger had said. It was possible they'd already passed it, or that the little helpful house-elf hadn't been quite right of the place's existence in the first place.

"Wish it'd already appear." Harry turned then, bringing Pansy and Granger back 'round with him; he took out his wand next, casting a Lumos to light their path and inspect the walls closest. "I don't fancy spending all night here, looking — either of you see anything? Cracks, maybe?"

"Not at all." Pansy frowned. She didn't have high hopes; not really. Not with how long they'd been at this.

"There's nothing." Granger sounded quite defeated, and looked at Harry. "Maybe, we should—"

They turned for the third time already, but this time... there was a door. A large and old-looking one. It was made of a rich and dark wood, and was carved with all sorts of patterns and markings.

Pansy imagined it'd be something the likes of which many an old Pureblood house might boast.

"How's it just appear like that?" Granger was, as one might expect, the first to reach out and run her wand along the border, a quietly said incantation falling from her lips.

Harry seemed content to reach out for the handle while Granger checked it over — Pansy, however, pulled him back. She and Granger disagreed on much, doubtlessly, but in the time she'd gotten to know the other girl, Pansy'd learned there was much they agreed on too; the importance of one's marks, safety, and of course, the desire for Harry not to rush into every situation that faced him.

"What is it?" He asked, clearly confused.

"Granger." Pansy answered him, and crossed her arms as she awaited the other girl's words.

Hermione stepped back from the door after hearing her, and, lowering her wand, gave a nod to Harry. "I couldn't find anything."

Coming from Granger, that meant there was likely nothing there.

"Let's see about this room Dobby used then," Harry said, and, grasping the handle, pushed the door open.

It swung inward without protest.

"It's huge." Pansy was in awe. She'd not thought there'd be so much space.

"More than. Look." Hermione was gesturing all around them, and the space, which had a great open space, seemed to go back further than she'd have expected.

"So this is the come and go room." Harry mused aloud, his gaze on the room's furnishings. "We could practice our spells in here, and nobody'd notice."

Pansy made sure to close the door behind them, lest any passerby noticed it. "It's certainly harder to find than a classroom, even if it's one with privacy charms."

"And we could bring snacks in here and study." Hermione pointed out, and, moving away from Harry and Pansy, went towards one of the bookcases. She began to look it over, and pull a book free every now and then, her eyes widening as if the selection present was far larger than what should be.

Intrigued, Pansy gave Harry's hand a tug, and moved closer to the Muggleborn witch. Cultured as she was, Pansy knew of tomes that were harder to find; rarer or all but forgotten. Many of them were dark even by today's standards, and one such book which spoke intimately of the precursors to the unforgiveables, was present on the very bookshelf near to Granger.

"This one, Granger, you may want to take care in handling." Pansy didn't wish to touch it, considering some were said be cursed or worse, and the cover... it was leathery and stained, the pages within yellowed with an off-coloured orange occasionally present. "And let no other see you with it."

Granger's eyes found her own, and the other witch spoke. "Why's that?"

"It's the sort of thing that could get you a visit from the Ministry or an inquiry into your character." Pansy's eyes went over other spines that seemed odd or stuck out. "I'd imagine, if that's present, it's not the only one here that shouldn't be."

Harry looked at her oddly. "Why would they be here? And not destroyed, or locked away somewhere?"

"They could've been forgotten or left here so the owner didn't get caught," Pansy shrugged. It didn't much matter why such things would be present. The fact that they were meant this place wasn't quite as perfect as she'd thought. Not unless the items could be kept hidden or protected.

Granger wrinkled her nose after levitating the book Pansy'd mentioned, and put it back. "Could you call Dobby, Harry? He'll answer you — I'd like to ask him a few things."

"Sure." Harry shrugged, and called out for the elf.

And a moment later, Dobby appeared.

As Harry explained to him what they'd found and their concerns, Pansy made herself comfortable in an armchair nearby; she was content to sit and relax for a few minutes whilst the other two went about speaking.

She was already imagining how the space could be used, or, were adjustments able to be made, where they'd be; Granger would most certainly need to set up wards so that those practicing the spells wouldn't be harmed if something were to go wrong or get out of hand. That'd be an important detail.

And then there was the matter of getting the word out. They'd need to be careful who was invited even if Draco'd already gone and had a Potions club made, complete with little pins or badges.

Her thoughts to let leak such an idea had, thus far, served to keep him distracted and well-away from their lessons.

"Pans?" Harry asked, drawing her attention. "You ready to head back?"

"Granger and th— Dobby?"

"They're staying here. She's trying to figure out how it all works." Harry extended a hand, which she took, and then she was tugged from the chair. "Let's go and raid the kitchens, yeah?"

Pansy smirked at the prospect of something sweet and refreshing after all the stairs they'd climbed. "I like the way you think, Harry."

With most of the others gone home, Harry had opted to pick those with the most promise — Longbottom, the female Weasley, Lovegood, Bones, Abbott, the twin Weasleys and Greengrass — to watch him and Granger have a duel of their own. Seldom did either of the pair have a chance to duel, given they were amongst those leading the study sessions.

And so, it'd been a good idea to make a show of it, and to give their friends a chance to see how far their personal studies had come.

"Now, remember, the goal is to disarm." Harry said for the benefit of the others, given Granger and Pansy knew well-enough how this went. "We don't want anybody hurt. Bill'd be right mad at me."

The Twins piped up then, booing at the mention of their brother with their usual enthusiasm.

"Ready?" Harry asked, speaking over them and this time, directly to Granger stood opposite of him

"As ever."

Pansy edged forward in her seat, the shimmering of the wards that separated Granger and Harry from the rest of those in the room a reminder to the protection they'd placed there.

It wouldn't do for one of the others to accidentally get hit by a stray spell.

"Three. Two. One." And, once he'd finished the countdown, Harry launched himself forward, his speed impressive as he raised his wand.

The spell he cast wasn't the disarming charm, but a jinx instead.

It was one aimed at the legs, which, when Granger dodged, struck the wall.

"Harry," Hermione scolded, and then she fired off her own spell.

He laughed, and leapt away, the spell narrowly missing him as he did.

Pansy watched him, and, with each movement he made, could tell he was having fun. He had that same look about him as he did when he was flying, be it in practice or in a match.

The duel itself continued, and, as was usually the case, both Harry and Hermione grew more animated the longer they fought. They exchanged jinxes and hexes the likes of which most wouldn't likely use, but utility was as important as the main spells you'd use on a person; most would have shields or the ability to intercept your spells with various debris, but go for their limbs or the ground they were standing on, and, more often than not, you'd have them.

Which, Pansy thought, was the goal, really.

Granger and Harry both were trying to show the others what they meant the majority of the time they made corrections, and given the lot gathered were amongst the most gifted of those that'd signed up, Pansy imagined they'd all take it to heart.

"Harry's better than I'd have thought, given his upbringing. You and yours have a hand in that, I'd think." Daphne's quiet voice broke Pansy from the bout she'd been watching, and her attention turned to the witch beside her.

"He has a bit of talent."

Daphne gave her a look. "You've got an instructor, haven't you?" She moved closer, sliding into the seat beside Pansy.

"A couple, but yes." Pansy had, and Harry'd done his best to make the most of their knowledge and skills.

"I could tell. He moves similar to mine. It's subtle, but still apparent — I imagine taming a Lion was hard work. He always seemed so chaotic." Daphne leaned back in her seat as Harry dove to the side and launch a flurry of jinxes back towards Hermione, a few of them getting past her shields and striking her legs.

When she was falling to the floor, Pansy gave her answer whilst keeping her eyes on the 'fight' they were witnessing. "Harry's a better listener than most any other, and he's a fast learner."

Daphne hummed, and then fell silent, her eyes going back to the fight.

Pansy couldn't help the way her lips curled upwards. Harry'd come a long way, and his efforts were showing. He'd gone from someone with a good degree of magical strength and a bravery few had, to a more refined, more polished and knowledgeable version of himself. The degree of affection he showed her had also deepened, and she enjoyed that, and the comfort and familiarity that had come between them.

Years back, she'd never have thought this possible, or th—

Hermione's wand was pulled from her grasp when another spell struck her arm and saw it fall limply to her side. Those legs of hers then began to shake and move violently, like she was doing a jittery sort of dance; the scowl on her face made it clear the jinx had caught her unaware.

After a few seconds' time of enjoying it, Harry cancelled it, and tossed her back the wand.

The pair of them turned to the crowd then, and, after a round of applause, Hermione waved her wand, and the wards separating them came down.

"Remember. Use your surroundings. Go for their legs or their arms, or use the ceiling." Harry gestured to Longbottom and Bones. "You two. Let's see you give it a go."

December had come about quicker than Pansy would have preferred. Though there'd been no major calamities, and she'd found herself in a steady routine, one that allowed her and Harry and the others more time for their studies and the like, she was looking forward to the break. Yule with Harry, away from Hogwarts whilst this peace and quiet lasted sounded quite nice, really.

"Pans!" Harry called out from the courtyard's left archway, his casual clothing so Gryffindor in colouring that she had to narrow her eyes; snow-blind or red-and-gold-blind, either was a possibility, really.

"You're earlier than usual." She teased, and stepped into his arms, giving him a quick kiss on the lips as she savoured the warmth he radiated — she'd always much preferred cuddling with her family rather than using heating charms, and now, with Harry, that love for the heat he provided was even more true.

"Reckoned I'd be the one to wait for you for a change, but looks like I reckoned wrong." He wrapped an arm 'round her shoulder and started them towards the doors that'd take them out. "Just how early do you leave?"

Pansy's lips twitched, and she snuggled into him. "I can't tell you all my secrets, can I?"

"I'll take the one?" Harry asked, his eyes glinting, and then they were out in the courtyard, the snow and wind swirling about, the light of the sun making it hard to see.

She tutted, and raised a hand to her face to keep the snow from it. "Help me into the carriage?"

"Course." Harry led them onwards, and soon enough, they were seated, the warmth of the interior a nice contrast to the chill of the outside air.

Once the carriage door was shut, and a quick heating charm had been cast, Pansy turned to him, claimed her spot burrowed into his side, and spoke again. "Any plans for this little Hogsmeade visit?"

"A couple, but I can't spill my secrets for it, now can I?" Harry's teasing voice had her rolling her eyes, and her elbow found his ribs.

"Oh, hush."

Harry grinned, and then he was reaching for a bag at his side.

"What's this?" She asked, her brow furrowed as he handed it to her.

"A surprise. I saw it in one of the papers Lavender and the others left out, and I thought of you." Harry's answer had her raising a brow, but her attention was drawn back to the gift as she pulled the tissue paper free, and unwrapped a box.

Upon opening the box, Pansy found a small little smile upon her face; inside the box was a beautiful hair clip, one that shimmered with green and silver. "I can see why Lionesses wouldn't find it all that appealing."

"But a Serpent might?" Harry's question had her grinning, and, closing the box, she moved and settled herself atop his lap, her hands resting upon his chest.

"Most certainly." Pansy assured him, and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "Put it in?"

Harry's hands ran through her hair first, his fingers threading through it and massaging her scalp. He'd gotten rather good at doing such a thing, and she wasn't opposed to letting him do it more.

"There." Harry whispered after a moment. "Looks brilliant on you."

"Thank you." Pansy murmured, and nuzzled against his neck.

"You're welcome, Pans."

And on their little journey down, they remained in each others' arms, content in the warmth and their closeness.

Hogsmeade, covered in snow and with only a dim light from the sun above, was a lovely sight.

Pansy hadn't seen a town so close to the castle in some time, and had forgotten the charm of it all; her and Harry much preferred to stay in, and have house-elves bring what they desired as they further explored the Come and Go room they'd been introduced to. It was a place that could do nearly anything, and that, paired with the tomes Granger and the others had been bringing, had proven an amazing way to learn and grow; but there were other times for such thoughts.

She looked up at him, and smiled. Pansy could hardly stop herself from doing so these past few months that'd passed them by. "Where are we headed, then?"

"A couple places." Harry took 'hold of her hand, and gently began to lead her towards a shop at the corner of two roads. The faint orange glow that lit up the windows gave hint to the fact the place was warm and cozy — perfect, really.

And the smell... Pansy closed her eyes for a second, and inhaled as they grew nearer. "Hot chocolate and pastries?"

"That's the plan." Harry agreed, and pulled the door open for her.

As they made their way inside, and took a booth at the rear, Pansy was content to relax and enjoy the warm air; her fingers traced the wooden surface, and she felt at ease, as if this were a place where worries melted away.

"Two hot chocolates, please." Harry's words broke the silence, and Pansy, smiling, looked up at him. "And maybe something to eat? Anything catching your eye?"

Pansy's gaze went over the display, and a thought occurred. "Something to share. A few of the bigger pieces?"

"Alright." Harry nodded, and looked over the menu with her, the pair leaning in together and pointing out a half-dozen total items.

When the witch that'd taken their order came back, a tray with a pair of large mugs on it, she set them down, and went off once more, leaving them be.

Pansy reached out and wrapped her hands around the cup, savouring the warmth, and the richness of the cocoa. "How did you find this place?"

"Neville." Harry said. "He brought Susan here after 'Mione and I had our duel."

She hadn't thought the pair... no, nevermind them. "I'll have to thank him. It's lovely." Pansy raised a miniature muffin — one filled with a jam that had the slightest taste of strawberry to it — to her lips, and nibbled.

It was divine.

And so she raised it to his lips.

With hot chocolate and such sweet treats, Pansy and Harry remained there for nearly an hour, chatting, feeding one another, and just enjoying the company of the other.

It was, Pansy thought, a perfect little afternoon.

Pansy found herself looking up and ahead of where she and Harry walked hand-in-hand. Snow was falling, and the clouds had darkened since their trip into Hogsmeade, the cold air whipping about and stinging her cheeks, or rather, it had been 'til a few seconds ago, when Harry'd taken off his scarf and wrapped it around her neck.

Naturally, she had murmured her thanks, and squeezed his hand, the pair of them then continuing to walk in a comfortable silence as the snow and wind grew more ferocious.

It could've begun to storm for all she cared, for already, this Hogsmeade trip was rated amidst the best she'd ever had.

"Fancy going someplace warm and having a butter beer? Or would you rather visit the bookstore?" Harry's question brought her gaze to his, and she found him grinning at her.

"The bookstore, but, let's save the butter beer for after."

"Alright." Harry agreed, and they changed direction, their destination set.

When they'd made it into the bookstore, the door closed behind them, and, a moment later, the bell attached to the door rang out.

A man stepped out from a small, dusty room and spoke, his voice raspy. "Can I help you?"

"No, thank you." Harry said.

Pansy added nothing. She was more interested in perusing the various tomes, and the stacks upon stacks that surrounded them.

There was the scent of old paper, and a hint of something floral.

And the shelves seemed never ending.

She moved towards the nearest one, and Harry let go of her hand, the two of them drifting apart as each sought out an area that appealed to their interests.

In truth, she'd have been content to spend hours in this place; it was warm and had a coziness to it that made her feel at home, and the smell, the musty-book smell, was so familiar to her. It felt like the section of the Slytherin common room where the many old books had been left behind, or the deeper parts of the library where fewer people frequented.

When her and Harry went to the rear of the place, sitting in one of the turreted sections with a stack of books between them, and the sky a darkening grey beyond the windows as snowfall picked up, Pansy was certain there was nowhere else she'd rather be.

No tournament, no Dark Lord or those that followed him, and no Draco or the like to prove bothersome.

Just her and Harry.

Pansy leaned back atop the couch she'd chosen, content to watch Harry welcome the club members as they trickled into the last meeting of the year; the holidays were coming up, and the vast majority were going home for a time. That vast majority included her and Harry alike, and was something she couldn't wait for.

Away from Hogwarts, the two of them could spend all the time in the world together — studying, sharing meals, duelling.

Snogging.

She had a few ideas for the latter.

"Pansy." Daphne slipped into the space beside her, a plate of treats in her hands. "Mind if I sit with you?"

"No." Pansy shrugged, her attention still on Harry.

"Wonderful." Daphne raised a biscuit to her lips, and nibbled. "You've heard Draco plans for a party tomorrow, I'd imagine?"

Pansy hummed in answer. "I heard about it the day after Harry, Granger, Bones and I planned this — Thursday and Friday didn't work for some of the others with too many pending assignments."

"Ah. I see why it's so sudden." Daphne paused for a moment, and held up a biscuit. "Want one?"

Pansy shook her head, amused with how much the other girl loved anything sugar-filled. "I'm good, thank you."

Daphne shrugged. "Suit yourself." She popped it into her mouth, and after swallowing it down with a happy little sigh, nodded towards Harry as the Twins began to playfully grapple him. "I wonder what plans the two of you have over the holidays."

"We're going to France. Mother and Father think it wise given what happened recently." Neither Pansy nor Harry had been exceedingly worried once they'd been back at the Manor, even during, the pair had handled themselves quite well... but time in another country, holidaying away from Britain and all the issues it held, was exceedingly appealing.

"Sounds nice."

"It should be." Pansy agreed. "And you?"

"Sweden. Family calls." Daphne looked as if she had more she wanted to say, but Harry was moving closer, and so she stood up. "You and Harry should visit."

Pansy gave her a smile, and a nod. "I'll write to you. If we can't, maybe you could join us in France."

Daphne gave no verbal response as she slipped past Harry, but the smile and wave she sent Pansy's way was enough.

"Hey, Pans." Harry murmured as he took a seat. "Sorry it took me so long to get over."

"It's alright." She assured him with a smile as she took up his hand. "Nearly three dozen — and you even got music."

He looked at the little record player, and chuckled. "Think this place has just about anything a person might need, just a bit old-sounding."

Pansy furrowed her brows; she thought these were what her parents seemed fond of, and the two kept up their collection, even now, though they'd not bothered with one for outside the adjoining chamber of their rooms. "Old?"

"Not in a bad way. Just older." Harry then gave a little look ahead of them, where a few of the couples in their group began to dance.

Her eyes followed, and a little smile appeared upon her lips. "Would you care to?"

Harry grinned. "Sure."

As the two of them made their way closer, and took up a spot among the dancers, Pansy couldn't help but feel at peace, and she looked at the other couples, too.

There was Longbottom and Bones, and Granger and Ronald — she wasn't sure how the witch could handle his presence. Others danced too, but Pansy paid them even less attention, instead focusing on the sway of the music and her partner.

"To think you'd wanted to do an actual lesson rather than a party." Pansy teased, and rested her head against his chest, his arms around her.

Harry let out a quiet laughter, and she felt his grip on her tighten. "You and Susan were right. This feels like after a Quidditch win, and that's always good."

"I think our celebrations are very different." Pansy's housemates would sneak wines or whiskeys in addition to having food served from the Hogwarts house-elves; Gryffindors seemed the type to settle for butter beer and cheap fire whiskey with junk food.

"You'll have to see." The confidence that bled into his voice had her swallowing; he was usually so sweet and polite, but ever so often he could be confident and louder; those lessons of his heritage and how their society worked had to be helping.

"I suppose I will." Pansy said, and then let out a quiet giggle as he spun her.

For a few songs, the pair danced, their motions growing looser and easier as the time passed, and when the record began to play a slower tune, Pansy had a hard time pulling herself away.

But the pair were thirsty, and the snacks that Dobby'd brought for them called.

They took a seat in the corner, their backs against a wall as they sat beside one another.

Pansy leaned into him, and sighed. "You know, this has been a good term."

"It has." Harry agreed, and kissed the top of her head. "I'm waiting for it to turn."

That earned a tut from her. "All this good fortune is owed to you — don't summon bad luck."

"Right." He laughed, and she smiled.

It'd begun to quiet down, all those present settling before a few hearths and sharing a new round of food and drink.

The crackling flames had a soothing effect, and when Harry pulled her close, and she rested her head against his shoulder, Pansy let herself relax further.

If only the term ended this eve.

When morning came, one that saw her settled at the Slytherin table with Daphne, Tracey and Millicent, she was startled to see no sign of Harry or any of the Weasleys he usually ate with.

"Something up?" Daphne's question had her looking over, and she shrugged.

"Harry's not here, and neither are any of his typical Weasley friends."

"He's probably out on the pitch." Daphne suggested.

Tracey agreed. "They all love flying, don't they?"

"Probably." Pansy murmured. She knew Harry'd enjoyed a quick flight yesterday afternoon, but it didn't seem in line with him being missing at breakfast.

Worry began to build, and for the whole of breakfast, her eyes drifted across the tables, and then the hall, the Gryffindor table empty still.

When Pansy and the others finished eating, and were up, headed for the exit, she couldn't stop herself from looking back one more time.

The table remained empty, and, a frown upon her face, she turned back, and continued out.

"We've time to kill before lessons." Tracey said.

Pansy trailed after the other witches, pondering a visit to Hospital Wing, or cornering Granger to see what the other girl knew.

"No, we don't. We have assignments due and a table I've already set-up in the library." Daphne said, one hand finding purchase in Tracey's robe before the other girl could escape, and then they were off, heading in the opposite direction.

Pansy had a free hour or so before her own lessons, and so she'd take the chance to visit the library, and see if her and Granger had the same idea.

"Pansy." A familiar voice called out to her, and she stopped, a scowl forming on her face as she turned.

"Malfoy."

He sauntered closer, his gaze taking in the halls about them. "Where's Potter? Off with the Weasels again?"

Pansy wouldn't give answer. He wasn't worth words, and so she turned with Millicent to follow in Daphne's and Tracey's path.

"Don't act all high and mighty. You're nothing without a proper wizard by your side." Malfoy called after her, his sneering tone making her clench her fists, and grind her teeth.

Millicent moved a hand to her shoulder, and squeezed. "Don't pay him any attention."

Pansy exhaled, and let her fists unclench as the pair of them went further into the depths of the castle, her mind on the Gryffindor table, and why it'd been empty; if Harry or a missing Wease— Weasley didn't manifest soon, she'd visit the Headmaster for an answer as to where he was, and she'd not leave 'til an answer was given.

It wasn't 'til the evening's meal when, finally, Pansy was able to catch sight of Harry — he looked haggard, worn, and, most importantly, he was sans the Weasleys. Not a single one of the four in Gryffindor were seated at their table, and it was a change Pansy couldn't help but notice.

Harry hadn't been in the Hospital Wing either, and the Headmaster, when she'd sent a parchment off to him requesting to know where he'd been, had simply replied that the boy was indisposed and would return to lessons the following day; he'd always assured her that he'd be seen for lunch or supper.

But where had he been?

Why was he looking like this?

What had the Headmaster been keeping him busy with?

She couldn't help the worry, and the questions, as they ran through her mind.

"Pansy." Tracey's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and her eyes fell onto her friend. "Something wrong?"

"No." She shook her head, and looked away from Harry as her mind continued to wander.

"Alright." Tracey didn't look convinced, but the others hadn't noticed, and that was good.

If she wanted answers, she'd have to seek him out after the meal. He looked like he could do with a hug anyhow, and, really, so could she.

So she ate, her gaze drifting back to the Gryffindor table every so often just to make sure he'd not left, and when the meal concluded, she slipped away, and hurried off towards his common room, hoping she could intercept him on the way.

As luck would have it, she did, and found him walking down a hall near the Grand Staircase.

"Harry."

He turned to face her, and, close as they now were, she could see worry plain on his face, and that was paired with his slouched shoulders, his downcast eyes, and his hands in his pockets; it looked like he'd not gotten any sleep.

"Hey." He sounded exhausted, too.

In a few more steps, she was by his side, and reached for his arm. "Where've you been?"

"Couldn't say."

"What do you mean?" She frowned.

"The Headmaster... well, let's get somewhere private." Harry seemed to change his mind, and so she followed along as he led her into a small classroom nearby; it'd been used for potions at one time, she could tell. "Could you? You're better at the charms."

Pansy smirked and withdrew her wand, setting up the necessary privacy charms; one to ensure no sound travelled, and another to ensure no one could come in without permission, or, barring that, a very audible noise.

Done with that, she turned to face him, and slid close as she wrapped her arms around him. "You're alright? That's most important."

"Yeah." Harry's arms went around her waist.

"And the Weasleys? I noticed their absence."

That made Harry stiffen, and then he let out a chuckle. "You noticed Ron and the lot missing?"

"Of course. They're normally so noisy, and one can hardly miss the hair."

He chuckled, and then, quieting down, gave a slow nod. It seemed the little moment of levity had come and gone in a second's time. "Arthur — their father, was attacked. He was kept late for work at the Ministry, and..."

"Is he alright?" She imagined the attackers belonged to one very specific group, so that question needn't be asked.

"Alive."

She squeezed him, and pressed her head against his chest.

"I went with the Weasleys to see him. They stayed, I came back." Harry said, and she felt his hand move, his fingers running through her hair.

It seemed to calm him, and she couldn't say she disliked the feeling.

"You're coming home with me tomorrow evening. We'll Floo." She spoke after a moment. "Mother and Father made the arrangements."

"Alright." He nodded, and held her close, and so the pair were content to stay in their little embrace for some time, neither willing to break the contact.

Pansy looked at the door, then to the Floo as she waited for Harry to arrive.

The last day of classes had gone by quickly, and without incident, and Harry seemed far more rested, though no less worried than he'd been yesterday; his shoulders had been a bit straighter, but he'd had a furrow in his brow, and the little worry lines that'd started to develop had become more pronounced.

Evidently, the Weasley Patriarch's state weighed heavily on him, and the lack of his friends' presence hadn't helped, either.

Minutes, seconds, she wasn't sure how long it was, but eventually she heard footsteps, and then the door handle was turning.

"Sorry, Pans." Harry stepped through, and she was quick to step forward, a smile upon her lips.

"No need for apologies." She murmured, and reached for his hand.

He pulled her into an embrace, and she felt him rest his head atop hers.

"Ready to go?" Pansy asked after a moment.

"I am now." He stepped back, his eyes going down to her lips and lingering; she wondered if he'd not be bold enough to steal a kiss, or if he'd wait 'til later.

She had no chance to wonder further, for he was leaning down, and then their lips met.

A soft little peck, quick and sweet, and then it was over.

"Let's go." She murmured, her cheeks flushing and a little smile appearing on her lips as she took a quick half-dozen steps towards the Floo, and her hand went to the first pouch of Floo Powder.

She threw a handful into the flames, and stepped in.

"Parkinson Chateau." She spoke the words clearly, and when the Floo spun around her, it did so quickly.

Seconds later, she was stepping into the receiving room of her family's home, and was happy to see her mother sat at a chair, reading a book.

"Mother."

Her mother looked up, and then closed the book. "Welcome home, dear."

Harry was quick to follow after, and as soon as his feet were on the carpeted floor, her mother was standing up.

"It's a pleasure to have you again, Harry — tea, lovelies?" Her mother looked at the two of them, and when they both nodded, a pleased look settled upon her face.

Pansy watched her mother hurry off with a little smile, seemingly content to tend to the two; she imagined after the scare over summer, being near so as to watch was a treat.

"I'll show you to our rooms." Pansy murmured as she took 'hold of Harry's hand and pulled him along.

Already, she was plotting trips to the nearby French magical communities, and all the fun they'd have together; then there was Yule.

"I know that look." Harry was smirking, and his free hand came up to poke her nose. "You've got a scheme brewing."

"Maybe." She laughed, and leaned against him. "And what if I do?"

"I'd think I've got something to look forward to." The honesty in his voice was nice.

"I should hope so."

This time, Pansy was the one to press her lips against his; then, Mother called.

Chapter Text

Their Yule break had only just begun, the first day filled with food, drink and relaxation; Hogwarts was a lovely, if rustic place, but it didn't remotely compare to her family's estate. There were finer decorations, finer furnishings, and a far larger collection of books.

And, best of all, no one was going to interrupt.

Well, maybe her mother, but she seemed keen on letting the pair spend their time together, and that was a blessing. Pansy could spend her time with Harry, and the two would be able to talk, read, duel, and all else they might wish. If that had the occasional kiss thrown in, it was all the better.

Now, however, they were both reading.

Her eyes went over her book, and onto him.

He was wearing a shirt of dark blue, his hair a mess, and his glasses had slipped down a little. Harry looked handsome, and she couldn't help but appreciate the view; his presence was comforting in a manner she'd seldom realised, for, unlike most others, she lacked any siblings. A fact she was keenly aware of whensoever she was left to herself in her family's home, the place practically silent save for her parents' voices or the house-elves' movements.

Pansy would readily admit his presence was all but required henceforth, and her eyes lingered on him as she recalled the day's events; her Mother'd spent a bit of time with the two of them, and, once dinner had ended, they'd retired here, in her sitting room, the pair curled up on a couch, books in hand.

"Something the matter, Pans?"

She blinked as her eyes darted back to her book. "No."

"You're looking at me." He teased.

"You're distracting." She teased right back, and when he put his own book aside, and pulled her into his arms, she let her own fall shut, a little smirk appearing upon her lips.

"I'd not mind distracting you further."

She laughed, and then squeaked as he began to tickle her.

"Don't! No, Harry!" Pansy shrieked, and laughed, and when her hands were freed, she sought revenge, her fingers digging into his ribs and side.

"Pans, Pans!"

They both broke into laughter, and when they'd tired themselves, the pair simply relaxed in the other's embrace, her head upon his shoulder, her legs over his lap.

"You know, I was mostly reading." Pansy's voice was quiet.

"Mhm. If that's what you call reading."

She pinched him, and he chuckled.

"What were you thinking about?" Harry asked, and then kissed the top of her head.

"How I've grown entirely too fond of you. You're always there, and your presence is just... nice."

He didn't speak, and, instead, pulled her closer.

She wondered if the confession had startled him, and hoped not; he wasn't supposed to be the type who'd shy away from a confession like this. Gryffindors were bold — just going in for a kiss or making admissions was already beyond the line for Slytherins, and yet...

"I'm fond of you, too."

She smiled, and closed her eyes. "You'd better be."

Harry let out a chuckle, and ran a hand through her hair. "Always."

Pansy was very content to simply relax and enjoy the feel of him, and so that's what she did; the silence stretched on, and neither felt the need to break it, for there was nothing they needed to speak of.

Until a thought came to her mind once more — it'd been lingering since first she'd heard of the Weasley Patriarch's attack.

"Harry?" She looked up at him.

"Yeah, Pans?"

"Would you like us to take a trip to Saint Mungo's tomorrow? To see the Weasleys?" She was certain they were still there, and her parents would happily lend a hand in ensuring the place would be safe and lacking any unwelcome guests; reporters the worst thereof... well, second worst, she supposed.

Harry's expression brightened, and then, as quickly as the expression'd come, he frowned. "It's Yule, I don't want to impose."

"I'm certain my Mother and Father would offer." She spoke, and sat up a little. "Mother especially. She doesn't desire to be overbearing, but she's very pleased with us — that actually makes me recall something she told me." Pansy sat up, twisting so that she could prod him. "You keep calling her Missus Parkinson or Lady Parkinson, and she says it makes her feel old. She wouldn't mind if you called her Salvia." She winced; saying her mum's middle name was strange.

Harry blinked. "Are you certain?"

"Quite."

"I'll try, then." He looked at her, his green eyes taking her in, and then he gave a slight shake of his head.

"What?" She poked him, and he caught her finger, and held it.

"Nothing."

"I saw that, Potter." She huffed.

"Did you, now?"

"I did."

Harry grinned, and let go of her finger. "I'm just... I'm happy. Being here with you."

"I should hope so." Pansy smiled, and then leaned back into him. "I am, too. With you."

"I should hope so." He echoed her, and then the pair fell silent once more, their focus shifting to the hearth, and the flames within; the warmth it provided was welcome, and with their books forgotten, their attention focused solely on the other, neither witch nor wizard were keen to move, and, instead, savoured the feel of the other.

Pansy looked at herself in the mirror; it was the morrow, which meant in an hour or so, after the early morning had come and gone, they'd leave for Saint Mungo's.

It'd be her, Harry, Orville, and a few other men he'd bring along — Mother and Father had insisted that, even there, security was a necessity, and that her Father would not risk anything happening to the pair. Pansy liked to think it was done out of love and concern for her, but the more pragmatic part of her mind that'd been moulded from early knew that, being his only child, her being safe and well was a necessity for the future.

And so, they'd go, and she'd get a chance to meet the Weasley patriarch, and, hopefully, get the chance to speak with those working towards keeping him cared for. She'd spoken with Mother to make sure extra care could be provided, even if politics and the like were meant to be kept out of the hospital.

A knock sounded, and she looked away from the mirror, her gaze going to the door.

"Come in."

Harry stepped inside, and then paused, his eyes taking her in, a small smile appearing upon his lips. "You're stunning."

Pansy had dressed in a dress of a deep purple, a black overcoat and her boots of an equally dark shade. The outfit was modest, and she'd thought it fitting for the visit; it'd been the one her mother had suggested, and she was glad she'd taken her mother's advice. It was her that Pansy'd gotten her own fashion sense from, after all, for Mother in her downtime aided in the running of one of their stores — a business run by a family friend, a former shopkeeper whose business had fallen on hard times.

Inherit all as she might, it was that which interested her most from all of her family's dealings.

"You're not so bad yourself." She replied, a little smirk appearing on her face. "Not too bad at all."

"Your mother made sure I had something proper for a visit like this. I think she means to get me a whole new wardrobe." He was chuckling, and his cheeks had reddened.

"Of course she does." Pansy said. "My Mother likes to spoil the people she cares for."

"Spoil, huh?"

"Oh, yes." She stepped towards him, and reached for his hand. "So, shall we be off?"

"We shall." He gave a nod, and gently took 'hold of her hand. "Thank you."

Pansy cocked her head as they left her rooms. "For? I've not done much."

"Coming along." Harry answered. "Setting it up in the first place. It means a lot."

She squeezed his hand, and pressed a little closer to him.

Pansy watched the man lying still on the bed, his chest rising and falling steadily. There were a myriad of potions and tinctures on the little nightstand beside him, and the air smelled a bit sterile.

"Arthur?" A voice came from the other side of the bed, and her eyes snapped over, and onto a woman.

Her red hair was long and a bit dishevelled, and her green eyes were weary. She was heavy-set, and wore clothes that seemed like they'd been tossed on without a second thought, and there was a cup of tea in her hand.

She spoke again. "Harry's come to see you dear. He's brought a friend."

"Hey, Molly." Harry murmured, and stepped closer, his hand slipping from Pansy's as he went.

Pansy, meanwhile, remained by the doorway, unsure what to say or do, and unwilling to impose herself. She imagined she might be known to the Weasley Matriarch.

"You've got good timing." Mrs. Weasley, Molly, as she was apparently called, looked to her husband and then back to Harry. "He woke up a few minutes ago, and is a bit more aware. Not completely, mind you, but his mind is a little less foggy."

Harry was quick to round the bed and kneel, and Pansy watched him take Mr. Weasley's hand in his own, and give a gentle squeeze. "Hey, Arthur. It's me."

The man opened his eyes, and a bit of confusion was plain in his eyes, and he looked between his wife and Harry, and then, his gaze settling upon her, he furrowed his brows.

"Harry?" His voice was gruff, and he winced a little, his hand coming up and clutching at his head. "Ah..."

"Shh." Mrs. Weasley spoke. "Don't move too much, dear. You were... it'll hurt for a little while."

"Oh." The man blinked, and then tried to sit up. "Oh, oh. Oh." He let out a sigh. "Sorry, I'm still a bit addled. Hello, Harry."

Harry gave a little nod, and then reached out, his hand gently squeezing the man's arm. "Don't worry about it. It's nice to see you awake."

"Mm. Nice to be awake." He nodded, and then, his gaze flitting back and forth. "I hear I have you to thank for saving me."

"That's no—"

"Hush, now. Let a man thank you, hm?"

"Oh. Well, yes. Yes."

Arthur fixed Harry with the same bright smile th— Molly, had sent him. "Now, who's your friend, and what're they doing lurking over there?"

"That's Pansy."

"Parkinson." She introduced herself, and stepped forward, offering a polite bow. "I'm pleased to meet you."

"Parkinson?"

"Yes."

"Hm. That's an important name. Pleased to meet you, Miss Parkinson." Arthur greeted, and then winced. "Merlin, it's a bit hard to talk. And think."

"Rest, dear." Molly gently stroked her husband's cheek.

"Right." He chuckled, and though it sounded weak, his voice was still full of life, and his eyes were alight with a merriment that was infectious. "And you, Harry, don't be a stranger. You're welcome to visit any time. You can bring Miss Parkinson here along, too. If she's a friend of yours, then I'm sure she's a wonderful young woman."

Harry was smiling, and she'd have bet a hundred Galleons his eyes were a bit misty; she knew how dearly he loved the Weasleys, their parents especially, given they'd all but adopted him.

"Of course." He answered.

"Well, I'd best rest, and soon enough, I'll be back on my feet and working. It'll be a while yet, so take your time."

"Don't push yourself, dear." Molly chided.

"Of course, dear."

Pansy felt her heart warm a little as she watched the pair, and when Harry turned to look at her, a smile on his face, she returned the expression.

The return journey to her family's estate had been quiet, and without so much as a peep from Harry. He'd seemed lost in thought, at least until they'd reached the Floo access they'd be using — it was a private one in the back of the staff's offices. Mother and Father had both decided such a thing would be preferable to a public one.

"Harry?" Pansy asked, and looked up at him. "Are you alright?"

"I am." He answered, and then leaned down, pressing his lips to her cheek. "Thanks, again, Pans."

"Think nothing of it." She shook her head. "We can visit as often as you'd like."

"I'll think on it. I'd like to, but... he needs to recover." Harry's head jolted to the side when they heard footsteps behind them, but when they realised it was Orville and the guards, he relaxed.

"Sorry for the interruption."

"No need." Pansy answered, waving the men off with a single hand; Mother and Father did the very same, and so it was a habit of hers to do so, too.

"Shall we return, then?" Orville asked.

"Yes." Pansy agreed, and took a pinch of Floo Powder, and threw it into the flames.

The fire flashed green, and, after speaking the destination, she stepped into the flames.

Seconds later, she was stepping into the receiving room of the Parkinson Estate, and a pleased sigh left her lips.

Harry appeared a few seconds after her, and was quick to step to her side, a smile upon his lips.

"Welcome home, my dears." Her mother stepped in from the adjoining room, her hair pulled back, a little smile upon her lips.

"It's good to be home." Pansy murmured.

"Yes, yes it is." Harry agreed.

Pansy smiled, and pressed close to him; neither he nor she seemed to enjoy seeing so many ailing, and the little visit had drained a bit of her energy, even if she was happy to have been there for his sake. Peace of mind was a worthy cause, after all.

She looked forward to curling up and relaxing, and hoped the feeling of unease might fade; there was something about it that was nagging at her, and she was not certain what.

"I was thinking we might have some tea." Mother spoke, and Pansy's attention snapped over, and onto the older woman. "I have the day's gift."

Harry sent her a queer look upon hearing her mother's words, but Pansy simply smiled. "Of course, Mother. That sounds wonderful."

Her Mother turned gracefully as a smile came to her lips. "I'll see to the snacks. You two get comfortable."

"Thank you, Missus Parkinson." Harry's cheeks flushed a bit, and the older woman let out a soft laugh.

"Call me Salvia, dear."

"R-right. Thank you, Salvia." He fumbled the name a bit, and then looked to Pansy.

"Come on, silly." She grinned and gave a tug, and soon enough the two were settled comfortably, their legs tucked under them.

"Your mum's nice." He murmured, and Pansy nodded.

"She is."

"I hope I haven't caused any problems between her and your dad. I know he doesn't spend much time about here, so..."

Pansy shook her head. "He's very busy, and has many responsibilities. It's not that he dislikes you. Not entirely, at least — Father's just hard-headed, and he's over-protective. Now that you're spending so much time with me, he'll want to see to your defense too." She was confident in that, for Father had always said, whatever she wanted, he'd see to it that she'd have.

And, of course, his little princess was all but engaged... in her head.

"As long as it's not causing issues, then I'm fine."

"It's not, so good." Pansy wiggled, pressing her shoulder against his, and the pair sat in silence, a pleasant, calm sort of atmosphere filling the room.

Some few minutes later, when Mother reappeared, her wand drawn, and a series of trays floating beside or behind her, Pansy and Harry rose, and the three moved over to the table in a turreted section of the second floor.

"There's a little bit of everything." Mother said, and the trays settled atop the table, and the food was uncovered, revealing an array of small cakes and treats, and a large variety of tea.

"This is wonderful." Pansy murmured her hands coming up and clapping together. "Thank you."

"It's a Mother's duty to spoil her children, after all." Mother spoke. "Now, which shall I pick, hm?" She mused, and with one dainty hand, plucked a small box from her person. "Ah, this one — here, Harry, dear. This one's yours."

He blinked. "For me?"

"Of course." Mother waved him off. "You're practically family."

"Oh. Thank you." He reached for the box, and looked to Pansy, his eyes wide, a little smile appearing on his lips.

Next, Mother turned to her, and passed a little box to her. "And this one is yours."

Pansy thanked her mother, and set her own box aside, looking towards Harry. "You first."

He opened his mouth to protest, and she glared at him.

"Guests go first, and you can't deny a lady her wishes." Mother's words came a second before she picked up her cup and sipped, her eyes twinkling with a bit of mirth.

Harry swallowed, and then, with a nod, and a little smile, opened his present, his eyes widening.

"What is it?" Pansy asked, curiousity bubbling within her.

He turned the box so that the lid was facing her, and, within, she could see a few folded slivers of parchment; when he took one out, and unfolded it, she saw the title, and a little giggle escaped her.

It'd seem Harry was in for quite the treat.

"You are rather fond of Quidditch, and of course, home games wouldn't be without worries of safety, so we thought it best to purchase only the tickets that'd see you elsewhere, be it in France, Bulgaria, Poland or Kazakhstan." Mother spoke, a satisfied look in her eyes.

"Thank you." Harry looked stunned. "This is... I can't thank you enough."

"Think nothing of it, dear — I made sure to book accommodations for the pair of you." Mother continued, then her eyes went to Pansy. "And now you, sweety."

Pansy wasn't expecting anything half as grand, and yet, when she opened the box, she found herself proven wrong. "Mother..."

"I knew you'd like that."

Inside the box was a collection of various brochures and pamphlets, and within, she could see an abundance of shops and businesses, each of them run by families she was acquainted with, or was otherwise connected to. Pansy'd be treated to the utmost courtesy, and, knowing Mother, she'd make sure there'd be a special selection of things available for her — be the shops ones that serviced foods, clothing, or other items, or even those that dealt in a variety of magical objects.

Connections, connections.

"It's amazing." Pansy spoke.

"I was thinking in the more... modern direction, that we might do the bulk of our gifts on the twenty-fifth of the month. Naturally, we'd have a large meal to go along with it in addition to that which we usually have." Mother's words drew a bit of a look from Harry, and Pansy knew her Mother was, again, attempting to spoil the man who'd all but become family. "Oh! I very nearly forgot, your father won't be home until late in the evening, but I thought all the same that we might decorate our Yule log and the tree I had Tinsy retrieve."

"That sounds wonderful, Mother." Pansy's cheeks had reddened, and a bit of embarrassment came to her — she was well aware how over the top her mum could be, especially if Father left the handling of things solely to her. A look at Harry showed that he was, thankfully, very much enjoying himself.

That large, dorky, charming smile of his was plastered upon his face, and she couldn't help but find the sight endearing.

Mother seemed to see the same, and let out a pleased hum, her hand gently coming up and brushing Pansy's cheek. "What say the two of you join me in an hour's time? After you've had time to eat and refresh yourselves as you'd like."

Pansy looked to Harry, and gave a slight nod, a smile coming to her lips.

"Alright." He agreed, and then, after a moment, spoke again. "Thank you for today, too."

Mother laughed, and rose. "You're already family, dear. Now, I need to see to the bits and baubles we'll be using for our decor — if you need me, I'll be in the sitting room downstairs. Oh, and, there are more snacks if you need them. Don't forget!"

With that, the woman turned on her heel and departed, and the pair of them were left to themselves.

"Your Mum's wicked."

"She is." Pansy agreed without missing a beat, and reached out, her fingers taking 'hold of a small cake. "I hope you know the more snow I see fall, the more I'll demand time in your arms by the hearth. I don't care for heating charms, and the fire's lull to sleep can't be matched."

"Oh, Merlin." A faux exasperated tone filling his voice as he shook his head, a grin appearing. "Reckon I wouldn't have pegged you for a cuddler."

"Snakes like to coil about things, you know." Pansy said. "And, naturally, we prefer warm places — you as a lion, provide a lot of warmth, you know. Your hugs are fantastic."

"Are they?"

"They are." Pansy raised her nose; then she wrinkled it, the fabric of his shirt having tickled her a little... which completely ruined her image, but Harry found amusement in it.

She sighed, and settled in leaning against him.

Another wondrous day.

Pansy had a small, fond smile on her face as she leaned back in her seat, sipping at her glass of mulled wine.

Harry was working on the log with Mother, setting dried slices of oranges and other fruits and the like on the top of it now that the various pieces of greenery were set. There was a large sprig of holly sitting atop the fireplace mantle, and the tree sat beside the door leading into the sitting room, yet to be decorated; that'd be next, after the log.

Her eyes turned to the window, and she could see the snow falling.

It was peaceful, and the sight of her mother and her Harry laughing and smiling warmed her heart.

A small yawn left her lips, and she blinked, then looked to the clock.

"Oh, my." Mother let out a sigh. "It's already past eight."

"Is it?" Harry's brow furrowed, and he looked up. "Oh."

Pansy leaned forward, and wrapped her arms around Harry from behind. He was radiating a lovely warmth, and his scent was a calming one.

"I think we ought to leave the rest for tomorrow, hm?" Mother asked.

Hearing that, Pansy shook her head. "No, no. The tree still needs to be done. We have time."

Mother gave a little chuckle, and then reached out, patting Pansy's cheek. "Alright, alright."

Pansy, meanwhile, looked up at Harry, a mischievous look in her eyes, and then, without a word, began to rub her cheek against his back, and, when he looked down and over his shoulder, a curious look on his face, she pulled him into a hug, her arms wrapping around him and holding him close.

"Well, we ought to get started on the tree then — we'll need the perfect place for it, one that won't obscure the view." Already, her mother was moving, her voice soft and gentle, and soon enough, the woman was pulling the tree up, and, after a few moments of consideration, she settled on the side opposite the fireplace, and then, with a flick of her wand, levitated the tree in place.

"That looks good." Pansy chimed in, a smile coming to her face as she and Harry followed, and she stepped up beside her mother, her hand reaching out and running along the tree's branches; the smell and feel of the fresh pine was soothing.

"It loo-" Mother's words stopped when the Floo nearby flashed.

And out stepped Father.

Chapter Text

The man was dressed sharply, and the look in his eyes was a little tired, and there was a frown upon his lips.

He seemed a little surprised to see her, but when his eyes flicked over and saw Harry, his frown deepened, and a scowl replaced it.

"Darling, you're home." Mother spoke, her words quiet, and a bit tentative. "We were just decorating the tree, and the yule log."

"Yes." He said, and looked to her, and then to Harry, and finally to Pansy. "I'm going to my study."

"Father." Pansy called out, her voice a bit weak.

He hesitated, and turned his gaze on her. "Pansy."

"Don't... don't work too hard, alright?"

He grunted, and then, without another word, was gone.

"Come, now." Mother reached out and wrapped her arm around Pansy, and held her close, a hand patting her head. "Let's get the decorating finished, and we can turn in for the night. The day's been long, and I'm sure you're a bit weary."

Pansy didn't answer, and instead, looked to Harry, who stepped over and reached out a hand; her own reached out, and her fingers closed around his. She offered a little, thankful smile, and then turned her attention to the tree, only just seeing the little sigh that slipped from her mother. Neither she nor Pansy were looking forward to dealing with Father's mood.

She'd not seen him since the day before yesterday, and, judging from the look in his eyes, and the tension he was exuding, she could only guess at the stresses he was under. It made her ache. She'd always been his princess. The only child that was favoured with gift after gift... but now, with her having Harry, he seemed distant.

"We'll finish decorating, and then head up to bed." Mother spoke.

"Okay." Pansy answered, her voice soft, and Harry gave her hand a little squeeze as a result.

It wasn't long after they'd finished decorating and turned in for the night that she found herself unable to sleep, the thoughts of her Father's odd behaviour weighing heavily upon her.

A small whimper left her lips, and she turned, and found herself pressed against Harry, her forehead against his back, her fingers grasping the edge of his shirt.

She couldn't understand why her father was being so cold, and she wondered if perhaps, he was afraid that if Harry did anything, it might hurt her. No, no that couldn't be his only worry. Maybe... maybe he was dealing with the many repercussions that housing Harry brought along.

Yet, if that were the case, why had he bothered to say he could stay?

"Pansy." His voice was soft and gentle, and her name rolled from his lips so beautifully, the way the sound of it sent a pleasant tingle down her spine and through her being was nothing short of divine.

"Harry." She breathed out his name.

"Are you okay?" He asked, and rolled over, and then sat up, looking down at her.

She was lying on her back, and could feel his eyes boring into her. "I..."

"Your father." He murmured.

Pansy sighed and gave a nod. "I think he's stressed out more than he or Mother wish to admit. I'll be fine. I imagine that's the reason he's not been very forthcoming about politics either. Father's been spending more and more time at the Ministry, and when he's home, he's shut away in his study."

"I remember you said he'd told you the Dementors were acting on orders, but we never heard who those orders came from." Harry added.

Pansy let out a frustrated groan, and rolled onto her side, her back facing him. "I hate this."

"It'll work out."

"What makes you say that?" Pansy asked.

"Because it always has before." Harry answered as he gently pulled her against him, drawing her into his warmth. "I'm here for you, too, you know."

"I know." She murmured, her heart fluttering, and a warmth coming to her cheeks; he always knew what to say.

The two kept silent for a while, and just as she was beginning to doze off, she felt a light kiss upon the top of her head.

"Mm?" She let out a little noise, her eyes opening, and her gaze moving upwards, meeting his own.

"Go to sleep." He said... but how could she when it felt like he was pulling away from her.

"Harry..." She mumbled, a hand reaching out, and grasping his. "Don't go."

"I should get ba—"

"Stay." Her voice was firm.

"You know we shouldn't. Not now, at least. Not while things are so... tense."

"I don't care." Pansy murmured, and shifted, and pressed against him. "This place is old. You think there aren't passages to secret you back to your room without being seen? Plus, Father's hardly around."

Harry was quiet for a long moment, and Pansy could tell he was warring with himself.

He slid his arms around her, and she smiled.

"If you're certain..." She could see a smile on his face — a flush too.

"I am." She replied, and nuzzled her cheek against his chest.

The days that followed were pleasant, and even Father was slowly becoming a little more cheerful. He was home at a decent hour each night, and he would join them for meals, and often spoke a little more than a word or two, even if his attention was mostly on his work.

But, she was glad to see his attitude had changed a little, and even Mother was happy with it.

Today, however, was a day that the pair of them had decided to spend entirely to themselves, and had risen early, and departed from the manor.

She and Harry were bundled up, and had walked for a time, and were currently standing by a small lake, her head on his shoulder, her arms wrapped about his.

The air was cool, though the wind was a bit strong. A small number of snowflakes fell from the sky, the clouds thick and dark above, yet only giving little as they slowly continued their movement where the breeze took them.

"It's beautiful." Pansy murmured.

"Not nearly as much as you."

Her cheeks flushed, and a laugh escaped her lips. "So bold."

"Maybe." He murmured, and leaned down, his cheek pressing against her hair.

"I wish we could do this every day." She admitted.

"We could. At least until Hogwarts starts back up."

"That'd be nice."

"Then let's." Harry said; his wand moved then, surprising her.

She hadn't so much as seen him reach for it, and then, he was murmuring an incantation. Slowly, snow piled in on itself, and formed into the shape of a bench, the likes of which were used in Muggle parks. There was an overhang too, one that seemed to sheen.

Ice.

He'd formed a little ice, pitched ceiling where the falling flakes would melt and drip down the sides, and then freeze again.

"You've gotten good." Pansy said, and pulled her arms from his, and moved to the bench.

"I'm trying."

"You're succeeding." She ran a hand over it, marvelling at the smoothness, the lack of bumps or ridges, or any imperfections.

Harry moved to take a seat after getting beside her, and drew her down and into a hug. Close together and sharing their warmth, the two stayed like that for a long time, simply watching the snow fall, and admiring the serene and quiet beauty of the lake.

She swore he'd even begun to daze off a little.

"Mm, this is nice." Harry's voice was a soft one, and it was then that Pansy's eyes went to him.

The snow'd stay present, but every moment with Harry, especially those here at her home, needed to be savoured.

"I'm glad." She leaned up and pressed a kiss against his cheek, and smiled.

Another moment she'd cherish forever.

Pansy was leaning back against Harry, his arms wrapped around her, the pair of them seated atop that bench still as they basked in the warmth of the sun, the last rays of it disappearing over the horizon.

She felt him twitch.

"Mm?"

No answer.

She tried again, and then a third time, only for him to let out a grunt and shift a little.

He'd fallen asleep, she realized, and her heart swelled, a warm feeling filling her. Harry was so comfortable, and so calm, that he'd just nodded off.

It was adorable.

A little smile came to her lips, and then, her wand was slipping from its holster, and with a wave of her hand, a blanket settled atop the pair of them. Next came a heating charm, and, before long, the two were nice and snug, and comfortable.

She shifted a little, and settled in, a bit of a satisfied, lazy hum leaving her.

"Love you." The words slipped from her lips, her tone soft, gentle, and content.

Harry shook then, and his breathing became a bit rough, and he mumbled something, and then, suddenly, he was waking, and she could hear the way his heart was pounding.

"Shh." She soothed him, a hand moving and gently brushing against his cheek. "It's okay. You were just having a nightmare."

"Oh." His voice was weak and his eyes had a wildness to them. One that spoke of fear and uncertainty.

"I've got you, love."

He was still breathing a bit raggedly, and Pansy reached up and pressed gentle kiss after gentle kiss against his jaw, her lips brushing against him, and, slowly, the tension in his body lessened.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." He said, his voice firm, and his arms tightening around her.

"It's okay. I'm here."

"Pansy." He breathed out her name, his arms moving, and turning her a little, and his eyes met her own, and then his lips were on hers.

The kiss was passionate, and desperate, and his grip 'round her person grew almost desperate in nature.

"I won't leave." Pansy said between kisses, and a gasp escaped her lips, his own moving to the curve of her neck.

She could feel the heat rising in her, and the way her heart fluttered.

"I should've told you." He said, and the tone in his voice was pained, and he pressed a kiss against her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Told me what?" She asked, her mind reeling.

"I..."

"Tell me, Harry." Pansy pleaded, now desperate to know in the hopes she could offer any sort of relief.

"I— I can see what he's doing sometimes. That's why I was gone with the Weasleys that one night. Why I've been staying awake whenever I'm near you. It's not because I don't want to be there. I'm terrified if I fall asleep, I'll see him, and then I'll panic." He blurted it all out, his breathing a bit laboured.

"Oh." Pansy's voice was a small one. "Can I... is there anything I can do?"

He shook his head and swallowed. "I'm supposed to start Occlumency lessons with Snape once we return to school. The Headmaster suggested it. He's... the only person I've spoken to about it."

Pansy hummed as an idea sprang forth.

"Father could teach you. He… has a need to keep certain memories and thoughts private, and, as such, has had practice in blocking others from accessing them. He might be a better choice. Snape would likely be more than willing, but not for any good reason." Pansy was protective of Harry. She loved him, and the thought of Snape being anywhere near him sent a wave of anxiety through her.

Harry didn't speak for a moment.

Finally, though, he nodded, his nose gently rubbing against her cheek.

A breath escaped him, and the pair settled in once again, and Pansy let herself relax against him, and let the sound of his heartbeat fill her.

It was a calming sensation.

"You think he'd do it? Teach me, I mean?"

"I'm sure of it."

"If... if he will, I'll ask. I don't... I don't like feeling so... weak. I can't even control myself. Every time I wake, and remember what Voldemort's been doing, I can't help but think about what he might be doing to people."

"You're not weak, Harry." Pansy murmured. "He's the monster. Not you."

"But I—"

"Shh." She soothed him. "Just breathe."

"I love you." He breathed out, and her cheeks warmed.

"I love you, too."

The two of them were quiet for a time, and then Harry's stomach growled, and the two laughed.

"Shall we get something to eat?"

"Yes, please."

"And then, I'll speak with Father for you." Pansy added.

"Thank you." Harry said, and she could feel the way he relaxed a little more.

"Of course." She replied, and leaned back a little; thereafter came a smile.

She'd do so much for him.

Pansy was pacing back and forth in her bedroom, her feet padding softly against the floor. She'd soon go and speak with Father on Harry's behalf before he'd do so himself. Of course, she'd not ask outright, only suggest and speak with her dad to plant the seed of an idea in his mind.

She could already see the benefits that would come of him teaching Harry. For one, they'd grow closer, and maybe even learn to better understand one another, and, with any luck, it'd be a bit of a bonding. Mother would be relieved, too, and she knew Father would appreciate the chance to show his gratitude for what Harry did for her... even if the Dementors were, apparently, after him and not any of her family.

Still, though, she was nervous.

Her hands were a bit clammy, and her breathing was a bit shallow.

There was a knock at the door, and Pansy jumped a little, and turned, and then called out. "Come in."

The door opened, and her mother stepped inside, and Pansy let out a soft sigh, a small smile coming to her lips.

"What's wrong, Pansy?" Mother asked.

"It's... well."

Mother moved over and took a seat, and then gestured for her daughter to come sit down, which she did.

"Harry wants to speak with Father about something, but he's not quite ready. He's still a bit... skittish. I was hoping that, if I spoke with him first, and brought it up, that things would go a little easier."

"Ah." Mother said.

"Is that a bad idea?"

"No, no." She reached out and patted Pansy's cheek. "Quite the contrary, really. I think your father will be happy to know someone needs his help. Especially considering how much time he's spent away from home. Your father is a proud man, and one that's prone to worry. Most of what he's doing is for our safety, hence the guards and added wards, not to mention the politicking he's been doing. I can't tell you much, he'd not be pleased if I did, but he's brought a few of those closest to us away from the old ways and more towards neutral ground. The Greengrasses are pleased to have another strong house allied with them, and, should your father's plan go according to plan, the Zabinis might follow suit."

Pansy wouldn't mind having Blaize pulled away from anything Draco-related, and, perhaps, this would provide the perfect opportunity for the other girl in his life to get away.

"Okay." Pansy let out a breath, and then leaned in and gave her mom a hug, her head settling against the woman's shoulder. "I was worried."

"It'll be alright. Your father's a bit... cold, and distant, but he cares about us."

"I know."

"Good. Now, let's get down there and get some supper, alright? Harry's been looking forward to a bit of roast for a while."

Pansy laughed. "That does sound good."

"Come on, then." Mother stood, and offered a hand, which Pansy took, and, after a moment, the pair headed off, and soon enough, the scent of food filled the air, and her tummy growled. "Dinner, and then I'll take you over to your father."

"He's not joining us?"

"Not tonight. He's still working, but tomorrow, we'll all have a meal together, and I'll see if he's free for a bit for a game of some kind." Mother sent her a smile, encouraging and full of promise.

So Pansy nodded and, as she sat down, found herself glancing over towards the stairs.

When she was younger, even to her first year of Hogwarts, he'd come hustling on down them, his eyes bright and the warmest smile on his face. It was only after her second year, however, that he started acting differently. Work would take longer and get drawn out.

Harry's friendship that'd led to more had further distanced him.

Her hand found her Harry's under the table, and her fingers closed around his. She gave a little squeeze, a bit of reassurance, and was pleased to feel him return the gesture.

Then came the food and conversation from Mother, who tried her best to lighten the mood a bit. She'd have to admit she never failed, and tonight was no different.

After dinner, and after the plates and silverware had been cleaned and put away, she found herself being escorted towards her father's study.

The door opened, and, for a moment, she was afraid, her stomach flipping and twisting. Then she heard that deep voice of his calling for her to enter. She did so with small steps, her eyes taking in the dim candle light and tomes or parchments that sorted themselves or had various marks being made upon them by quills he'd long-ago enchanted; she'd never learned the purpose of them. He kept his study private.

"Pansy."

"Daddy." She breathed out the word, and felt a surge of relief when she saw him standing, and moving towards her. Then, he was taking her into a hug. It was just like it used to be for those few seconds.

"Are you well, Flower?"

"I'm okay." She said, and smiled, and leaned into him.

"Your mother says you have a request. Come. Sit. Let's talk." He guided her towards the little sitting area he'd set up in one corner, and the two sat down. Pansy folded her hands together, and took a breath.

"Well, you see. Harry... he needs a teacher, and—"

"Pansy."

"He needs to be taught how to occlude his mind. He needs a tutor." That was clearer.

"I see." Father's voice was quiet. "Future-proofing? Or is there a reason beyond his desire for privacy?"

"The Dark Lord... he can — Harry can see what he's doing. Sometimes. It's random, he said." Pansy shifted a bit uncomfortably.

"And you're worried?"

"Yes."

"Mm." Father leaned back in his chair. "He's not a fan of Harry, to say the least. I don't imagine he'll take kindly to knowing what he's seen. If, indeed, this is a real ability. I'll speak with him. We'll find out."

"Thank you." Pansy let out a breath.

"Of course."

"I'm sorry, Daddy."

"For what?"

"Bringing Harry back. I know you're probably not pleased, and you're always busy now, and I—"

"Flower."

"Mm?"

"It's okay. I don't mind. He makes you happy, and I've not had any complaints about his behaviour./

"Oh." Pansy's cheeks flushed a bit. "You're... not angry?"

"Why would I be? He's one of the finest matches you could make, and already, has accolades spoken of. Wealth. Powerful friends." Father smiled. "He pleases you too. I've seen the change in your demeanour."

Pansy couldn't help but laugh a little. This wasn't at all what she'd expected, and, yet, it was the father she remembered. Her heart fluttered and a warmth spread through her.

"Thank you."

"Anytime." He answered, and stood. "Now, then, shall we get back to your mother and Harry?"

"Okay." She smiled, and followed him.

"By the way, Pansy — if there's anything he'd need, you can speak to me or your mother, not just her. Busy as I am, I'm here."

Pansy's breath caught, and her eyes watered. This was exactly what she'd wanted, and the tears were ones of joy.

She gave her father a hug.

"Thank you, Daddy."

"You're welcome."

And so, the two of them continued along, and, once they returned, Harry was there, seated in his usual chair.

"Everything go well?" He asked.

Pansy gave a nod, and wrapped a hand around his arm, and gave him a smile.

"Father says he'll help. I expect thew two of you'll share a conversation later tonight or in the morning."

Harry swallowed and nodded, and she could see the nervousness in his eyes.

"It'll be okay."

He gave a nod in recognition.

She leaned up, and pressed a kiss against his cheek, and then, her nose nuzzled against his ear, and her lips were brushing against him.

"Love you."

"I love you too, Pans." He whispered.

Then came the clearing of her father's throat, and the two blushed; she didn't let Harry pull away though.

"I'll see you in the study after our meal, if that's acceptable, Mr. Potter."

"Yeah." He nodded. "That'll work."

"Good. Now, then. Let's sit. Shall we?" Father slid into the seat at the head of the table, and Mother moved beside him. She seemed very pleased, and it showed in her eyes.

"Let's." Mother added.

Pansy and Harry shared a glance, and, as they took their own seats, she felt a wave of calmness settle over her.

Soon, all the pieces would fall into place.

Pansy looked down at the Daily Prophet and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

There'd been an attempt at Azkaban to free a select group of Death Eaters, but, luckily, the Aurors had foiled the attempt; they'd been laying in wait, and the Dementors, after a reported few seconds of hesitation, had joined the fray.

A battle ensued, and, eventually, the attackers were subdued, but not before killing a half-dozen guards, and leaving a dozen more with their minds fractured and bodies broken.

She set the paper aside, and reached up and rubbed her eyes, and a little yawn escaped her.

"Morning." Harry murmured.

"Mm, good morning."

"Did you see it?"

"Hard not to." She said, and leaned back against the armrest.

Harry, in response, slid onto the couch beside her, and settled in against her. "At least they were stopped."

"Surprising, isn't it?" Pansy asked with no small amount of scorn in her voice; it wasn't directed at Harry. "They let us get attacked, but somehow manage to foil a prison break. Maybe they're not as incompetent as I thought."

A battle ensued, and, eventually, the attackers were subdued, but not before killing a half-dozen guards, and leaving a dozen more with their minds fractured and bodies broken.

She set the paper aside, and reached up and rubbed her eyes, and a little yawn escaped her.

"Morning." Harry murmured.

"Mm, good morning."

"Did you see it?"

"Hard not to." She said, and leaned back against the armrest.

Harry, in response, slid onto the couch beside her, and settled in against her. "At least they were stopped."

"Surprising, isn't it?" Pansy asked with no small amount of scorn in her voice; it wasn't directed at Harry. "They let us get attacked, but somehow manage to foil a prison break. Maybe they're not as incompetent as I thought."

Harry snorted.

"It's the truth." She muttered.

"I didn't say it wasn't."

"Good." She reached over, and grabbed the paper, and held it out for him. "You might want to take a look. It's not as bad as usual, but..."

"Yeah. I saw. Voldemort isn't going to be happy."

"No." Pansy shook her head.

"What do you think will happen?" Harry knew she and her family would have more to go on than anyone else.

"More attacks. More deaths." Pansy let out a slow sigh, and then shifted, and turned towards Harry.

"Yeah." He said, his arms moving and wrapping around her, and drawing her close.

Pansy was content to let that topic die, and so she switched to another. "What of you and Father?"

Harry swallowed, and Pansy could feel his anxiety.

She'd not meant to do that.

"It's fine. We had a long chat, and I think things are good. I'll start training with him on Wednesday."

"That's good." Pansy was relieved, and sidled closer to him. "Sit and cuddle?"

"Mhm." Harry's lips pressed against her cheek, and a soft sound left her.

The two of them were quiet, and content; she wished that was what life could always be like.