After Chritsmas
“Incendio!”
“Reducto!”
“Bombarda!”
Her mirror didn’t budge.
“You stupid thing why won’t you break once and for all!” Pansy screamed out of frustration as she banged it against a nearby shelf, the noise bouncing off to the infinite ceiling of the room of requirements.
Things had progressively spiralled for her since break. Two weeks had passed since Hypatia and Circe had died, and she had said her goodbyes to the one she loved most.
She had tried everything.
Everything to erase her mirror from existence and finally break the bond that tied her to Hermione. She had once even left it in the very room she stood in, and had cried herself to sleep only to find it resting on her bedside table in the morning.
Pansy felt the anger burn its way up her body. She needed to breathe. Her eyes closed, trying to offset her heaving chest. How was she supposed to keep Hermione safe from herself while the mirrors still bound them together? The noose of their soul tie kept on getting tighter, forbidding her from turning away.
What had her life even looked like before Hermione had entered it? Everything she thought she had known about love had become minuscule and ridiculous. The love she had was overwhelming, all encompassing, obsessive.
But Pansy was many things, and a liar wasn’t one of them. She was going to stay away from Hermione. She was going to stay alive, regardless of how much better the world would become without her. She was going to make sure Hermione had an ally on the other side of the inevitable war her and Draco were about to trigger. Because there was no escaping it. They both knew it. They had been bred for this moment.
She sighed before putting the mirror back into her pocket. Draco was never late to their meetings.
“There you are. Why the change of decor?” Draco appeared like clockwork.
“I couldn’t stand looking at that stupid closet anymore.”
“Fair enough. Ready?”
“Yes. The sooner we get this over with the better. McGonagall is forcing me to attend catch up tutorials with her.”
“You’re doing that badly?”
“And whose fault is that?”
Draco froze. Pansy’s recently formed resentment hadn’t gone unnoticed by either of them.
“Do you want me to help you or not? Perhaps my time would be better spent with the cabinet.”
“No. I’m sorry. Let’s do this.”
Pansy’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the armchair, bracing herself.
“Legillimens!”
Draco cut through her mind like a knife through a thin sheet of paper. The first time they had practised her occlumency had left her in shambles. But she was prepared this time. This time, he wouldn't get that far. She focused all of her attention on him, blocking behind her every memory she could think of that had Hermione in it. But Draco was insistent, and strong. He shoved her to the side with little effort.
“Okay okay stop!” Pansy squealed.
Draco obeyed and snapped out of her mind. She swallowed back the tears that made their way up to her eyes with difficulty, still unable to face her best friend. She had never assumed she’d be naturally gifted at occlumency. She had, however, also not predicted that she’d be that pathetic at it. Her memories laid so close to the surface of her skin that Draco never had any struggle wandering as he pleased around her mind.
“You really were in love.” Draco remarked, his voice almost apologetic.
“I hate that you get to see my mind.” Pansy groaned. No matter how primordial and useful their meetings were, a chill still ran down her spine at the thought of Draco getting to inspect her private conversations with Hypatia.
“If I can do it so easily, then you won’t stand a chance against the Dark Lord. Pansy you need to get better. Fast.”
“I know.”
“We’re running out of time.”
“I know.”
______________________________
Pansy finally rested her back against the Old Oak Tree. The copious amounts of recently fallen snow had made the trek down to the lake particularly difficult, but she needed to be there.
You once almost met her here
She caressed the exposed roots with her fingertips, tracing along them for as far as her arms could reach. Hermione had been appointed as her tutor. Every effort she had made to keep herself away from the one she loved had crumbled in an instant. It was the first time she had been confronted to her since the slughorn party, and Pansy still couldn't shrug off the disgust and utter annoyance that hadn't left Hermione’s face when she had looked her way.
Hermione hated her, and that was a good thing.
Hermione hated her, and that was a good thing.
Hermione hated her, and that was a good thing.
Pansy tried to swallow down her hurt, but to no avail. Rejection, even from someone that could not remember her, was a painful experience.
Deciding that she needed a distraction, she pulled out her wand and, with the flick of her wrist, turned some of the snow that laid by her feet into two perfectly spherical balls. Pansy smiled as she remembered how hard this charm had been for her at 11, when she had first seen it in the daily prophet charms of the week selection. Her and Draco had spent hours practising, creating a mountain of snowballs only to then throw them at Blaise and Daphne after luring them out of the castle with false premises.
How simple those times had been. Times when she still fit in with her house, and her unconscious crush on Daphne hadn’t yet caused her to distance herself from the blonde girl in fear of making her uncomfortable. She missed her. She missed making snowballs, the illusion of freedom, and knowing that she still had years to call Hogwarts her home.
Pansy felt nauseous. She loved Hogwarts, yet was actively working on destroying it. How could she be so selfish as to mourn a place that would still be standing for centuries if it weren’t for her works?
“She’s going to throw them at us. Let’s turn around before she sees us.” A voice said, referring to the flying snowballs she had been rotating with voiceless magic. Pansy whipped her head around to discover Potter and Hermione standing there, about to turn around. Hermione nodded in agreement, and they both walked away.
Let them go.
But Pansy would have recognized the sound of Hermione’s sobs anywhere. She closed her eyes, wondering what Weasley had done this time to hurt her feelings. Before the break, Hermione would have grabbed the mirror and confided in her, sharing her sorrows. Pansy would have listened attentively, validating her feelings before inevitably cheering her up. But those days were over. Pansy had shut herself out of Hermione’s life for good. Now, Hermione would have to rely on her foolish friend for emotional support. She sighed, not believing what she was about to do.
“Potter!”
“What do you want, Pansy?” Harry spat as soon as she got close to them.
“Woah, Potter, those are some nasty manners.” Pansy replied, amused.
“Leave us alone, Parkinson. We’re already on our way to another spot. You’ve got the entire lake to yourself again, you can stop worrying now.”
“Anyway.” She arched her eyebrows, extremely unimpressed by his meek attempt at sounding intimidating. “You guys can go sit there. I’m done.”
Let me do this one thing for you, my dear Hypatia.
“No thank you.”
“Oh don’t act even stupider than you already are, Potter.” Pansy rolled her eyes. “I already melted the snow, the ground is dry. The girl looks dishevelled and you’re gonna make her sit on wet snow? That’s grand of you.” She refused to look at Hermione, worried that the need to embrace her would overcome her. Hermione’s breaths were shallow as she shivered, her arms wrapped around herself. Why had they not brought a coat? What in the world had possessed them to come all the way down to the lake with nothing but their robes on?
Pansy rubbed her eyes in disbelief before taking her own cloak off and putting it in Hermione’s arms. She swallowed down a gasp of surprise as the cold air hit her bare blouse, it was much colder than anticipated.
“You” She pointed at Harry, “If you tell anyone about this I’ll knock you out and throw you in the lake just to make sure the giant squid survives through the winter.”
“Screw you Parkinson!” Harry gritted in between his teeth.
“And you,” Pansy's eyes met Hermione's for the first time. For a moment, she forgot how to speak, the sight of Hermione's endearing features stealing her breath more forcefully than any northern gale ever could. Even in tears, with her lips turning blue, she was the most beautiful girl Pansy had ever seen. “Bring this back to me at our meeting. And since you’re clearly incapable of taking care of yourself, I’ll put it this way just for you: You wreck it and he pays, with his money and with a little swim like I just said.”
She didn’t wait for a reply, or even a reaction before turning away, afraid that her feelings would betray her.
My Dear Hypatia, what is troubling you?
______________________________
“I can’t do it anymore! I need a break.” Pansy implored, resting her back against the wooden bench, her entire body spasming uncontrollably. She couldn’t complain. Draco spent hours of his days helping her with occlumency instead of fixing the cabinet. These sessions drained her body of all energy, something that didn’t go unnoticed by her metabolism who had seen fewer and fewer meals in the previous days.
Truth was, she couldn’t stand being in the Great Hall, and seeing the faces of every student whose life she was about to ruin. Daphne and Blaise would beg for her to hang out with them again. The Gryffindors would throw her dirty looks, and the teachers would use her appearance as an opportunity to question her on her emotional wellbeing. Truly, sneaking into the kitchens and begging for an elf’s kindness was the best option she had.
“This is going to end terribly, Pansy. You have to stop.” Draco had found the memory she had been doing her best to hide. She combed through her hair nervously. In any minute now, Hermione would walk through the door. It had been hard for Pansy to jumble classes, the cabinet, occlumency and tutorials, so Draco’s help had been relocated to the tutorial detention classroom during Hermione’s advanced algebra class.
Being worn so thin could only last for so long. Her body was giving out.
“I’m trying to stop it. Only McGonagall says everyone in our bloody year is too bloody stupid to replace her!”
“No. Pansy. You’re the one keeping this going on. Why did you give her your coat? It’s like you’re not even trying!” Draco started pacing, grabbing his hair with both hands.
“She was crying!”
“The Pansy she knows would’ve never done that. The Pansy she knows would’ve tossed those snowballs at her face!”
“Oh come on. I’ve never been that childish.” Pansy grimaced. “And I am trying, Draco. I really am. You just don’t trust me.”
“I do trust you! I just don’t trust that bloody mirror. She’s always going to be pulled towards you. You will never escape her. She’s researching Circe. Do you even know what that means? She’s searching for you! You left a trace. Somehow, you missed something. You must have. Why do you refuse to see what’s in front of you?”
“I see it! She won’t find me. She won’t!” Tears swelled up to her eyes. Why couldn’t she be strong for once, and do the right thing? Why couldn’t she just let Hermione hate her?
“You have to stop this Pansy! For both of your sakes. Please!” Draco repeated, exasperated. Despite his hatred for Potter, Pansy knew that the thought of more innocent lives lost to their sinful hands terrified Draco.
“You think I don’t know that?” Pansy said in between sobs. “I’m figuring it out! There’s still time seeing how poorly you’re doing over on your side! Draco you don’t know what it’s like.”
“Of course I know what it’s like! I just happen to also have more responsibilities than you do. Now is not the time to break that Gryffindor myth of ‘All Slytherins are bad’. Do it before it’s too late. Do it before we’re all dead.”
“I know, I know, '' Pansy shrieked. “I don’t know how much longer I can go. I’m breaking, Draco.”
“I’m sorry. That’s not an option for either of us.”
They stared at each other in silence. Draco knew he wouldn’t get anything more out of her. Pansy’s heart sank. The words that had come out of her mouth had been unintentional, yet revealed a daunting truth. She was falling apart, her uncontrolled feelings pulling at all the seams of her heart.
And as Draco made his way to the door, the only thought chewing apart Pansy’s mind was how simpler things would’ve been had Draco never asked for her help with the cabinet. She would’ve had at least one more year before her father did the inevitable and forced her to join the dark forces. A ball of rage grew at the pit of her stomach. Draco had robbed her of her most treasured currency, Time.
She would’ve had so much more time with Hermione.
“I hate you! Why did you tell me? Why did you have to tell me!” Pansy cried out in rage as he opened the door.
She froze.
Hermione stood by the entrance, dumbfounded. Pansy turned around, quickly wiping away her tears before packing her things. She couldn’t handle Hermione’s coldness towards her at the moment. She just couldn’t. Her heart swelled as the promise she had made to Draco resonated within her, banging against the walls of her skull. She needed to be the Pansy Hermione knew. The Pansy that she hated.
“Pansy?”
Pansy chased back the tears that fought their way up. How torturously sweet it was to hear her name dance on the lips of the one she loved. But she couldn't. No Circe, no Pansy. She had Parkinson.
“Lesson’s over, Granger. Also don’t call me that.”
“Everything alright?”
“What’s it to you? You should be rejoicing yourself right now. I just know you’re going to run to your little boyfriend and the stupid chosen one and brag about how you saw me cry.”
“I wouldn’t do that.” Hermione crossed her arms, offended.
“Oh please. Like you’re anything if you’re not with them.”
Pansy knew she had struck a chord. On their long nights conversing as Hypatia and Circe, Hermione had confessed more than once some insecurities that had eroded her. She tried not to think for too long about how vile it was of her to take Hypatia’s trust and use it to hurt Hermione. She was disgusting.
“If you hate me so much, why don’t you call me that?” Hermione’s words were slow, detached, every syllable expensive to utter.
“What?”
“Please like that’s ever been a problem. Come on Pansy, call me that. I know you’re dying to. All your little friends already do. Granger the pathetic know it all mudblood.”
“I told you not to call me that.” Pansy winced at the slur coming out of Hermione's lips. She would never. Not even with a wand pointed at her throat.
“What? Pansy? It’s your bloody name, not an insult. Some of us have had harsher things thrown at us. Grow up.” Hermione took another step. Inches apart now, she made sure to not break eye contact.
She was disarmingly beautiful. Pansy couldn’t look away. They hadn't been this close since the night they had shared in the room of requirements. She remembered Hermione’s chest rising steadily as she slept in her arms. How she had started counting her freckles, just to make sure she wouldn’t fall asleep. Just to make sure she’d get to bask in her presence for a little longer.
“You… you… get off of me!” Pansy snapped out of her thoughts and pushed Hermione away. She stomped out the room, her steps matching her heartbeat.
They had been so close
But Hermione had fallen for Circe, not Pansy—the same Pansy who had bullied her for years and called her a mudblood one too many times.
And Circe was dead.
______________________________
“So I’ve been thinking about something.” Draco sat down next to her after yet another failed attempt at mending the 1000 layers of magic of the Vanishing Cabinet.
“Yes?” Pansy Groaned. She hadn’t completely forgiven her friend for the mental breakdown he had triggered only a few hours ago.
“I was thinking about you and Granger.”
“I don’t like it when you do that.”
“Yeah well she’s not so bad anymore when I learn about her through your memories.”
Pansy grimaced. How difficult would it truly be to obliviate Draco when his back was turned?
“Anyway.” He continued, “Maybe you’re not entirely to blame for the situation. Maybe the real problem lies within the mirrors themselves. There is no escaping each other while the mirrors are magically bound to fulfil their duties.”
“I’m glad you’re finally realising that now.”
“I think we should destroy your mirror.”
“I’ve been trying. It won’t budge.” Pansy replied, unimpressed by her friend’s discovery. “I even went back to Dervish and Banges. The mirrors were created together and can only be destroyed together.”
“Then you have to steal Granger’s.”
“Are you mad? How exactly would I do that?”
“I don’t know.”
“I erased every bit of memory she had with that mirror in it. For all he knows, it’s just a broken mirror unable to even fulfil its non magical properties. She may even have thrown it away by now.”
“You have to try anyway. Clearly you’re terrible at making her dislike you. So make her like you instead. Get closer to her. Befriend her.”
“And then steal from her? I’ve done enough of that already. And she does dislike me.” Pansy sighed, pinching her nose bridge. Truth was, she had been relieved to find out her mirror was indestructible on its own. What if she broke the mirrors and her feelings vanished? While inconvenient, she couldn’t possibly fathom their attachment to be maintained solely by a magical object. She was, after all, the only witch Hermione had ever had feelings for.
“I can’t think of a better option. You know I’m doing this for you.”
“I’m doing that for you too.” Pansy pointed at the cabinet, annoyed.
“I would’ve done this for you too regardless. You’re my best friend.” Draco flinched back.
“I’m sorry.” Pansy sighed. Her frustration was misguided and she knew it.
“It’s alright. I just thought it would also be easier on you, you know? I mean we still have months until… we let them in. If you get that mirror we can make sure she’s safe from us once and for all. We can cut all ties cleanly and painlessly.”
“Sometimes I really think the world would be better off without us.” Pansy stared at the floor.
“It would be.”
“I don’t know how to come to terms with that.”
“It’s impossible.” Draco shrugged. “All I know is that if we die they’ll torture our mothers. They’ll be blamed for our failures, so we can’t fail. You know how closely watched they are for their connections to Andromeda.”
Andromeda. Andromeda who had chosen love over her family. Pansy tried to not think about the similarity of their situations. A war was coming. Voldemort was back. No matter how complicated Andromeda’s decision had been, it had been done under more graceful circumstances than she herself had ever been granted.
“I’ll do it. I’ll steal her mirror.”
“You’ll have to earn her trust. Get close to her.”
“I know.”
“Pansy.”
“Yes?”
“You can’t have her fall for you. This is only temporary. Once you get the mirror you need to leave this all behind.”
“She won’t fall for me. I’m not Circe to her, I’m Parkinson. We’ll be fine. I wasn’t exactly the nicest to her today.”
She couldn’t cry. Not again. Not today. Draco rested his hand on her shoulder, rubbing it gently. Pansy leaned into the touch, desperate for any type of comfort.
“You know, there is one thing I’m glad I got to confirm through our occlumency lessons.”
“What?”
“Potter and Weasley are idiots.”
Pansy giggled. Draco always knew just what to say. His eyes, gentle and kind, held a rare softness, a secret he shared with only a precious few. She brushed a silver strand of hair from his face, her fingers lingering as they came to rest on his cheek.
_______________________________
Over a month had passed, and Pansy still had no sight of the mirror. Her friendship with Hermione had unfolded quicker than she expected. It had been difficult at times to not let slivers of their previous conversations slip into their new ones. Pansy watched in admiration as Hermione laughed at the same jokes she used to make. Her heart fluttered endlessly. She finally got to see what Hypatia looked like when she blushed, when she smiled, when she went on one of her beautiful, interesting rants.
She’d never fall out of love with her.
Hermione had started sitting closer to her in class, which had proven to be the perfect opportunity for Pansy to try a few unsuccessful accio charms on her. If Hermione still owned the mirror, she most definitely didn’t walk around school with it. Pansy had yet to figure out a way to go all the way in the Gryffindor’s bedroom and search it.
She hated lying to Hermione about her intentions. Every meeting they had was incredibly challenging for her. She fell back into her feelings, crumbling little by little in front of Hermione’s divine presence all while painfully aware of her dishonesty.
She didn’t deserve her. She didn’t deserve her at all. She’d beg the gods to just float in Hermione’s orbit, thanking every star she encountered for allowing them to meet in this lifetime.
It had been difficult for Pansy to even look Hermione in the eyes, terrified that her feelings would betray her, for she suspected that they had started to become reciprocal.
Letting Hermione go had been hard. Watching her love her again was even harder.
A friendship.
She needed to maintain a friendship with Hermione until she stole her mirror.
Pansy’s feelings transcended any kind of ancient magic, and would prevail on the day their souls would cease to be spellbound. But buried deep within her, attached to her very core, was the unshakeable belief that no person would ever think of her that way.
Hermione would forget about her the second the curse would be broken. She was sure of it.
But she wasn’t going to let those thoughts linger that night. Pansy slipped back into her common room without being noticed, unable to mask her smile as she stared at Hermione’s name written on her palm. The clicker pen, as Hermione had called it, had immediately become her most treasured item. She squeezed her pocket, sighting in relief as she felt her fingers wrap around her birthday present.
How sweet it was to be loved, even for just a few, fleeting, artificial moments.
Once in her room, she took out a piece of parchment. It was full of notes she had taken during her history of magic class, exactly what she needed.
Hermione
Hermione
Hermione
She scribbled on the margins, the blue of her pen contrasting against her usual black ink. Her fingers traced the paper, going over each letter slowly. The ink didn't smudge. Another muggle wonder, she thought. Pansy had always dreamed of embellishing her homework with the name of the one who would consume her thoughts, tracing the loops and angles of the cherished word with the adoration of a love-struck teenager, just as she had seen her friends do countless times.
Hermione
What a pretty name for a pretty girl.
“Evanesco” Pansy whispered before sighing, watching in defeat as the name disappeared, leaving her homework intact. Perhaps another life, where things would be easier.
_______________________
Pansy ran down the stairs leading to the Slytherin boy’s bedroom. How could she have acted so foolishly? She had kissed Hermione. The obliviate charm she had casted on her love had been rendered useless by her selfish actions. She pounded her sweat covered palm against the wooden door, praying that her friend would still be awake.
“Pansy?” A sleepy Blaise owned the door.
“I need Draco. I really need Draco.” Pansy begged. She could already feel her anxiety creeping up her spine and seizing her lungs.
“Is everything alright? Do you want to talk to me about it?” Blaise tried to put a hand on her shoulder. Pansy jerked away.
“I don’t need your fucking kindness Blaise, I need Draco! Now can you get him for me or do I have to go in there myself?” She spat.
Blaise frowned, hurt reflected on his eyes before disappearing without a word behind the door.
Breathe.
Draco will know what to do.
Draco will know what to do.
Draco will know what to do.
“Pans?”
“I need to talk to you. Please. The common room is empty.” Draco followed her immediately, knowing better than to question her when Blaise was awake.
“What happened?” Draco asked, resting his hand on Pansy’s knee. She closed her eyes, the contact grounding her. Where could she even begin? She had just officially qualified for the title of the worst person in the world.
“We kissed.”
“What! Are you mad?” Draco’s voice did nothing but stress her more. Her vision blurred. She needed to breathe. “How did that even happen?”
“Does it matter? I don’t know how I got there. I thought I’d keep my distance. But I just couldn’t. I couldn’t ignore what we felt. I really tried, Draco. I tried, but she kept pushing. I couldn’t–” Pansy hiccuped, tears rushing down her cheeks. “She liked me, Draco. She knew it was me. She knew who I was and she still liked me.”
“You didn’t use the mirror at all? Friends, Pansy! You were supposed to become friends!”
“No! I swear. I never contacted her once. It’s the curse. I’ll never be able to run away from her. I’ll never be able to not love her.”
“And she’ll always find her way back to you,” Draco concluded, pensive. His eyes were fixed on the ground, rushing through potential solutions.
“I don’t understand. I obliviated her. I really did. Up to the very first memory. I took everything away. How did this happen?”
“Do you seriously think you’re that unlikeable? She fell in love with you once. Why is it so unbelievable that she’d love you again?”
Pansy looked down, her cheeks burning.
“Erasing all of her memories of me only to be replaced with new ones is no use. If they get to her, they’ll kill her before executing me and my family for blood treason!”
“We need a change of plans. Screw getting her mirror. Screw the mirrors all together!”
“What?”
“Make her loathe you.” Draco took a deep breath before lowering his voice even more. The common room was empty, but no place in the Castle was safe enough for their conversations. “Make sure that every time she thinks of you, shivers of hate overcome her. Hearing your name must be like nails on a chalkboard. Overshadow every good memory of you with dozens of awful ones until every bit of love she has for you is replaced by hatred.”
“I-
“Do you have any better ideas?”
The idea of deliberately becoming the villain in Hermione's eyes was unbearable. How could she destroy the only connection they had managed to forge? Yet, what choice did she have if it meant protecting her from the truth? She had done this to herself.
“What if none of it works? What if we succeed in your task and I’m still unable to do occlumency?”
“Then you’ll have no choice but to obliviate her again. And I’ll obliviate you.”
The validity of Draco’s words sank in. Being the sole guardian of Circe and Hypatia’s existence was one thing. Letting them get ground into dust, never to ever be recuperated again, was another.
Pansy had secretly hoped that one day, when all of it was over, and Potter and his foolish band somehow won the impossible battle, she and Hermione would have a real shot at being with each other. But the chances were slim. Her and her family would probably be sent on the first carriage to Azkaban. Would she be shown clemency if she allowed them in her mind? She had never had another option. She had never wanted any of this.
“Promise to take care of her. If I have to forget. You’ll take on my role any chance you get during the war.”
“I promise.”
“Even if it means helping Potter as well.”
“I promise,” Draco replied without skipping a beat.
“Even if it means putting yourself in danger. Even if it means lying.”
“I promise.”
“Vow to it.”
“What?”
“Vow to it or I’ll blow the fucking Cabinet up with myself inside and no one will ever penetrate this castle.”
Draco’s lips pursed for long enough to make Pansy regret her last words. Her despair had dragged her to a new kind of low.
“They’ll kill our families.”
“She’s more important than that. She’s innocent, Draco. They all are. How long are we going to keep on pretending that our lives are worth more than theirs? We are the butchers. We don’t even deserve to be alive.”
Draco kept quiet, rushing through every scenario he could think of. The excruciating year they had endured had taken a physical toll on him that Pansy hadn’t noticed. His eyes were tired, empty, and the wrinkles on his forehead had multiplied.
“I’ll do it.” He spoke slowly, weighing carefully every word that came out of his lips. “I’ll look over her during the war.”
“Only if I don’t get better at occlumency.”
“I’ll train you until the very last minute. You will never be ready unless we practice every day until the infiltration. Even then, you may not be ready. I found out over the break that Bellatrix is going to be there.”
Pansy’s eyes widened. The only person that terrified her as much as the Dark Lord was Draco’s cruel aunt.
“When she steps into the castle, the first thing she’ll do is search for the slightest hint of betrayal. If she finds it, believe me, she’ll destroy you.”
“And how will you hold up to her?”
“I’ll be alright. There’s a reason my mother has been training me in occlumency for so many years. Bellatrix was ruthless with Andromeda. I know how to hide what I need from her. I will vow to protect Granger only if you promise me that, if by the end of the year, she loves you still and you’re not ready, you’ll obliviate her again, and you’ll let me obliviate you.”
There was no choice. There had never been. She was done being selfish. What she wanted didn’t matter. Hermione. Hermione was all that mattered. Not Circe, or Hypatia, or the love they had for each other.
She needed to keep Hermione Granger alive.
“I promise.”
_____________________
“You know what? I think you’re right!” Hermione screamed back. “Is time I gather the last shred of dignity I have left and go. You are spineless, Pansy, spineless! I hate you!” Pansy didn’t reply. Wet ink trickled down her face, and the bandage on her forearm stuck to her skin and itched. There was nothing to do. “Is there anything you’d like to say before I leave this room and we go our separate ways?”
Thousands of thoughts rushed through her head. This was it. This was goodbye.
I love you. I’m sorry. I care about you. I just want you to be alive.
“Alright then. This is it I guess.” Hermione turned around and opened the door.
“I’m sorry about Weasley.”
“What?”
“You asked me if there was anything I wanted to say. So I’m telling you. I am sorry about what happened to Weasley.”
Pansy didn’t know how long it had been since she had decided to skip the rest of the day and seclude herself in the room of requirements. She spun the mirror around in her hands, staring at the black screen which should’ve been reflecting her face. She had been close to calling out Hermione’s name so many times just to apologise, but had refrained from it. There were few ideas worse than revealing her identity at the moment. Hermione was too kind, and too forgiving. An apology would be Pansy’s selfish conscience begging to be unburdened. An immediate relief which would benefit nobody in the long run. Things were better this way. Truly.
Hermione hated her. She had done it. She didn’t have the strength to go look for Draco, or to move at all. The words that had come out of Hermione’s mouth had cut through her like a knife, and she had had no choice but to strike back. A wolf in sheep's clothing. That was all that she was.
Blaise’s arms around her, and his kisses on her lips that never failed to leave her nauseous. Her lack of significant progress at occlumency. Hermione’s pain. Draco’s familial pressure that loomed over both of them. Her father having found out she took muggle history and ruining her teacher’s life. The dark mark that had forever branded her, and cemented her side in the upcoming war. The rise and fall of all that she would ever be. A pawn. A weapon. Collateral damage.
“What happened?” Draco asked as soon as passed through the door of the room of requirements.
“I did it.” Pansy shrugged while putting down the mirror on the floor, too tired to elaborate. She didn’t need to either, Draco knew. The room of requirements had become their hideout. They could talk openly about their fears, and the updates regarding the dark lord’s plans without being afraid of being overheard. It was nice too, to know that, for a couple of hours, they could disappear entirely to the eyes of everyone else.
“Brought you dinner. Also you’ve still got some ink dried up on your chin.” Draco pointed at her face with one hand while he opened his bag with the other. “She got you good.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“See, I knew you’d say that. The thing is, you, my friend, are much more fun to be around when your stomach is full, so do me a favour and have at least a couple of bites, will you?”
“Whatever.” pansy rolled her eyes, unable to suppress a smile as Draco chucked her a poorly executed sandwich, clearly made of whatever he had been made to grab from the dining table.
The horrible feelings that had plagued Pansy the entire day were distant by the time she and Draco had finished dinner. Draco had that effect on her, always striving to be a beacon of light amidst the crushing waves, waves he himself had partly unleashed upon her.
“Alright. It’s time to train before we get onto your homework.” Referring to the vanishing cabinet as anything but what it actually was had become an amusing part of her day.
“Why don’t we take the day off Pansy?”
“From the cabinet or my occlumency?”
“Both? You’re still a bit shaken from this morning’s events so why not rest?”
“I’m perfectly fine.” Pansy winced as she was reminded of the potion’s class. “I need to train. How about I try to hide from you what happened in the bathroom? Maybe if I strive to hide an embarrassing memory from you I’ll be more successful.”
“Alright then. Make that your goal. I will be ruthless though.” Draco laughed.
“That’s exactly how I need you to be. Malfoy the ruthless. Perhaps that will be how you’ll be remembered after our deaths!” Pansy used a dramatic voice on purpose.
“Oh gosh, please no. What about you then? The relentless Pansy Parkinson. That would fit you. You never give up, do you?”
“Hopefully Pansy the nothing at all. I have every intention to slip out of this life unnoticed and unremembered.” Pansy twirled, smiling at her own joke.
“Your last name won’t allow you to do that. I mean I know we are talking theoretically, but your family is still part of the sacred twenty eight. Our ancestries can be traced back to at least the middle ages.”
“Let a girl dream, Draco! When all of this is over I’ll work in the archives of the ministry and erase all mention of me. The end of the Parkinson bloodline. That’s the one thing I’d be alright with being remembered by.”
“Enough of that nonsense!” Draco jumped up from the couch he had been laying on, uncomfortable with the subject. “Tell me when you’re ready!”
“Alri-
“Legillimens!”
Pansy cursed herself as Draco forced his way into her mind earlier than expected. But Bellatrix wouldn’t wait for her to be ready, so this new tactic he had employed was good training, regardless of how invasive it was on her. Pansy focused as hard as she could on the vanishing cabinet, pushing any memories of the day as deep in the back of her mind as she could. It was a thin paradoxal line that Pansy still struggled to balance on, to focus so intensively on forgetting a memory, especially one as fresh as a few hours old. Draco pushed hard, walking around the thought, surrounding it, pacing as he tried different entries. Sweat trickled down her forehead and onto her eyelashes. She couldn’t break. She had to persevere.
“I couldn’t do it.”
“You went soft on me again.”
“No, I swear. I couldn’t do it!”
They stared at each other in disbelief for a few seconds before erupting in cheers. They hugged each other as they jumped up and down, screaming in happiness the way quidditch fanatics did when their favourite team won the world cup.
“You did it!”
“I did it!”
“You’re brilliant! I mean if we keep this pace until June then you may be ready. I may not have to erase your memory after all!”
Pansy’s smile faded. The deadline they had set for themselves was so overwhelming she sometimes forgot how closely it hung above her head. The unbreakable vow had cemented how little time she had left before her memories of Hermione too, would have to be erased. A month. Pansy had a month to perfect the craft before Draco would become the sole guardian of their memories, the only one who would remember Pansy and and Hermione as lovers, or anything other than two enemies on different sides of the war.
“Circe.”
They both froze, Hermione’s whisper had come through from the other side of the mirror.
“That’s her?” Draco mouthed.
Pansy nodded.
“I don’t know if you’re there. I don’t know if you can hear me. I don’t know if you want to listen to me. I’ve had a rough day, and according to my memories, talking with you always made things better. I assume you don’t love me anymore, since you erased yourself from my mind, so I don’t feel too guilty telling you about my heart problems. You know, I have never felt so alone. My friends love me, but they don’t know me. And there is this girl who knows me, but she doesn’t love me. I mean, perhaps she does, but not enough to be with me. I’ve been pathetic, Circe. I don’t know why I can never get anything quite right. I always land slightly off. I know you’re not listening to this, but a part of me misses you, even though we never even met. Do you miss me sometimes? Tell me, Circe, do I ever cross your mind?”
Pansy waited for a few minutes, until she was sure Hermione was done talking to the mirror before pointing at the mirror with her wand.
“Muffliato” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“She knows!” Draco freaked out.
“She still has her mirror!” Pansy joined in.
“Well what do we do? What if she’s using it to get to you?”
“How would she even do that?”
“I don’t know. But Hermione is really smart. Are you really willing to bet on the fact that she won’t, somehow, find you sooner or later?”
“You’re right those are terrible odds. God, what are we going to do Draco?”
“We go back to our initial plan. We steal her mirror.”
“But how?”
They both paused, contemplating their options until the obvious choice struck them at the exact same time!
“The quidditch match tomorrow!” Pansy exclaimed!
“There won’t be a single Gryffindor left in their common room!”
“We can do this! We will have to break a dozen rules that would make us be kicked out of Hogwarts and lose the house cup but we can do this!”
“Pansy, this is good. This is really good. Things are finally going our way!”
___________________________
“What did he do to him?” Pansy roared as she barged into Professor Snape’s office.
“Calm down Miss Parkinson. Yelling will not change anything.”
“What did Potter do? What happened?” She screamed, refusing to listen.
“Malfoy’s life is no longer in danger. All the blood that he lost is back into his body, I made sure of that. I could not, however, close up the wounds. It seems that Mr Potter stumbled upon a very dark spell without knowing the consequences of using it.”
“But why? What did Malfoy do to upset him? Why would he do that?” Pansy paced around the room, biting her nails so hard she was afraid she’d bleed.
“I am under the suspicion that Katie Bell’s return caused a lot of commotion, and was the spark that triggered the altercation.
“Katie Bell’s back?”
“Did you miss breakfast again Miss Parkinson?”
“Who cares if I missed breakfast! What’s going to happen to Draco?”
“Madam Pomfrey predicts that he won’t leave the hospital wing until the end of the year. He should regain consciousness in about a week or two.”
Pansy felt the blood drain out of her face.
“He’s going to kill him. Potter just signed off Malfoy’s death sentence.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know, Professor. I know. Draco won’t finish in time. Not in the state that he is. You know who will kill him himself if he fails.”
“Draco told you?”
“It’s not like there was any other option. It was only a matter of time before I was informed anyway.” Pansy rolled her sleeve a couple inches up her forearm, enough to reveal the bandages that laid underneath. Snape’s shoulder’s sank.
“It seems like your family got to you before I got a chance to talk to them. I’m sorry miss Parkinson.”
“You were going to talk them out of it?”
“I was going to try.”
“Thank you.” Pansy looked down, embarrassed by the sudden display of kindness towards her. “It’s too late now.”
“Perhaps it is not too late to save Mr Malfoy’s life. I’m sure you know more than you are telling me. Please do keep it this way. Do not tell me. Finish it, for him. Save him.”
“I will, Professor. I promise.”
The walk back to the Slytherin dungeon took her longer than it ever had. Her knees barely held her weight as she marched down the stairs, her eyes and her mind empty. She had lost Draco. She had no other friends to train with. She was alone.
Just like that, in the matter of a morning, every shred of hope that she held had been ripped away from her. The months she had spent training for occlumency, and helping Draco with the cabinet had mounted up to nothing.
Hermione.
She’d have to forget about Hermione. There was no other choice. Perhaps there never was.
“Pansy?” Hermione’s voice called out from the end of the hallway. What was she doing in front of the Slytherin’s common room? A nauseous surge washed over Pansy’s body.
“I can’t do this right now.” She whispered before turning around.
Hermione’s footsteps followed hers, refusing to let her go.
I could’ve been so much more than what I am and what I will ever be.