Pansy hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. Really. She just happened to be at the bookshop at the same time as Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood. It had been a decade since the war, and the wizarding world had done what it did best. It had moved on and healed from the wounds of the past, but it didn’t mean things were completely fine between the former classmates. The Slytherin crew mostly kept to themselves in the years after the war; many had moved abroad to start fresh while others threw themselves headfirst into rehabilitating their images. Pansy had done her fair share to atone for the “sins” of her youth, but it was hard for people to forget that she had been keen to give up The Chosen One to Voldemort.
“....like the Weasley brothers?”
Hearing that name in Lovegood’s airy voice brought Pansy out of her reverie. She stepped a bit closer against her better judgment since it was already too late to walk away now. Especially not when the conversation had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.
“Luna, you know I don’t think of them like that.” one could practically hear the eye roll in Granger’s voice. If Pansy didn’t know better, she’d think the wild-haired swot was insulting Lovegood.
“Right. Is that why the wrackspurts suddenly pause when a certain redhead is in the room?”
Oh? Had the Golden Girl rekindled the flame with Ronald? Surely not. For someone as intelligent as the swottiest member of the trio, Hermione often missed the most obvious cues. “I don’t know what you’re talking about and I need you to keep your voice down. The last thing I need is for someone to assume I’m back with Ron,” sputtered the brightest witch of their age.
Very interesting.
“So who is it then? Surely not Bill. George? Ah! I know! Is it Percy?” This raised Pansy’s hackles. She started to move towards the end of the aisle but the next words out of Granger’s mouth stopped her in her tracks.
“God, no! Not Percy! Oh god, can you even imagine? Those good looks can’t hide just how…” She didn’t wait for her former classmate to complete whatever wildly inaccurate statement she was about to make.
Moved more by reflex than decision, Pansy turned the corner and marched up to the girls. “Who would have thought I’d find you here bad-mouthing a Weasley of all people.” If looks could kill, there would be a Granger-sized hole in the wizarding world. Both witches visibly jumped at her sudden appearance and exchanged a hurried look.
“Pansy, what a surprise! We were just catching up. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” Luna rushed to defuse the situation as Hermione regained some of the color in her face.
“We were just talking about the Weasley summer party. Are you coming this year?” Granger inquired while surreptitiously glancing at her friend. Pansy leveled her with a glare that had the other girl take half a step back into the bookcase behind her.
“Let’s cut the small talk. I overheard you two talking about Percy Weasley and decided to come over here and participate. What was it that you said? Something about his good looks not being able to hide what? His flaws?” The words tumbled from her mouth, one right after another, without so much as a breath in between. Any other day, she might have noticed both girls shaking their heads and trying to intervene but once Pansy got going, there was no stopping her.
“I thought the Golden Girl would be less judgmental about someone from a family that has treated her like her own. Percy may have made grave mistakes but has done everything to make up for it. He has made amends. He is a good man and just because he doesn’t defend himself against such whispers does not mean it does not hurt his feelings. You’d do well to remember that he too lost a lot in this war. He is the best man I know.” She didn’t wait for either woman to reply before apparating out of the shop.
While Pansy stormed into her home, the man in question was sitting in her bed with his adorable (not now, Pansy) glasses and reading a book that would surely put Pansy to sleep. He glanced up at her abrupt arrival and gave her one of his disarming and sexy smiles.
Seriously, Pansy? Get it together.
“Are you going to stand there and glare at me all night or come here and tell me what’s bothering you, Princess?” Any other man calling her that would surely get hexed into the next year but with him, it felt like someone had finally cut all the strings loose. She felt the tension melt away from her shoulders against her wishes.
“Can you believe I just ran into Luna Lovegood and your brother’s best friend at the bookshop? They were having a grand time gossiping about you,” she huffed as she walked into the small walk-in closet in his apartment. She didn’t have to turn around to know that he’d put his book aside to give her his full attention. That’s what you got with Percy Weasley.
Six Months Ago
It wasn’t meant to be a thing. They’d run into each other at a mixer that Pansy was being forced to attend at the ministry. If not for his hair, she wouldn’t have known he was a Weasley. She didn’t even remember him from school. But the least favorite Weasley brother had aged very well. That patrician nose, a haircut somewhere between no-nonsense and boyish, and those eyes! The azure was so bright that she wondered how people forgot to mention this brother all the time. He didn’t seem like the uptight prat everyone always portrayed him to be. She realized that he’d caught her checking him out a moment too late as he held her stare and raised one sexy eyebrow.
Sexy? Where had that come from?
She shook her head and looked away. It wasn’t like he would come to speak to her. The Parkinson name was still notorious and the Weasleys had plenty of reasons to dislike her. Ginevra Weasley had certainly made that very clear in the years since the war. Pansy tried to be subtle and glance in his direction again, but he was nowhere to be found.
The only good thing about these events was that the drinks flowed very freely, so Pansy made her way to the bar to top up her drink. Just one more and she would leave. She’d shown face and schmoozed. She’d nodded her head and smiled at all the right things and signed away galleons to support noble causes. So lost in her thoughts, she didn’t realize when a man slid into the seat next to her and pushed a fresh martini her way.
Brave
Ready to dress the man down, she was left speechless when her gaze washed over a now-familiar pair of crystalline eyes. He flashed her an infuriating smirk; like he knew something she didn’t. “An extra dry martini. It seemed like your type of drink.” He nodded toward the untouched beverage and looked back at her.
If someone told her that she’s look back at this moment in the weeks to come and run through all the possible responses she could have come up with, Pansy would have laughed and hexed the person on the spot. She tried for sultry but the words came out haughty by default.
“Unfortunately for you, I’m not in the habit of accepting drinks from strangers. Besides, I can get my own, thank you,” she muttered as she continued to try to catch the bartender’s eye for a new drink. Despite her best attempts at ignoring the man next to her, she couldn’t help but notice how good he smelled. Clean and woodsy with a hint of something crisp like eucalyptus. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something about his presence felt like home.
“Ah, my apologies, Miss Parkinson. I simply noticed that your drink was empty while you were watching me from across the room. The least I could do was refresh it for you. I am a gentleman after all.”
The smirk grew, and Pansy suddenly wondered briefly if all the Weasley boys had this charm about them. She stared back at him with the coolest expression she could muster. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Weasley. I wasn’t watching you,” she rolled her eyes at him and started to get up to leave.
He touched her arm gently just as she turned away, and she felt like she’d been zapped by a small electrical current. She didn’t mean to freeze up the way she did but there was no denying the fact that pureblood upbringing did not allow for such casual touches. In her case, it wasn’t so much about the impropriety of the gesture but the fact that she was touch-starved. Pansy couldn’t explain it but at that moment, she knew this man meant no harm but she couldn’t stop her body from reacting the way that it did.
He must have noticed the shift in her demeanor and dropped his hand immediately. “I’m so sorry, Miss Parkinson. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m not sure what came over me. Please forgive me.” The calm collected man from 5 minutes ago was now babbling a little. He tried to soothe her while keeping his distance as if she were a small skittish animal.
“Shhhh, take a deep breath. Am I making you nervous? I’m so sorry. That wasn’t my intention,” he flagged the bartender down and got her a glass of water. She promptly pressed the glass to her overheated face as he continued to watch her. Some of his earlier bravado was now replaced by something very close to concern. She couldn’t help herself. She burst out into a laugh that had his expression turn from concern to terror. He probably thought she was going to make a scene.
“It’s okay, Weasley. I’m fine. You caught me off-guard. Don’t worry,” she was out of the room before he could reply.
Pansy couldn’t stop berating herself the next morning. The man had done nothing wrong. He had simply touched her arm and she had overreacted. She hadn’t even realized she had been close to hyperventilating just from a graze. She felt the spot burn for hours after she’d returned home that night and drank herself into oblivion. She’d woken the next morning with a massive hangover and a minuscule tattoo where the man had touched her. She stood in front of the large mirror in her closet and stared at the spot in horror.
There it was. A dainty letter “P” in the prettiest script. She immediately dropped the sleeve of her dressing gown and ran to the library. Was this some kind of cosmic joke?
Weeks passed as she avoided the ministry like the plague. She had several correspondences that went unanswered. If it hadn’t been for her monthly appointment with her bookkeeper, Pansy wouldn’t have left her manor. She was hurrying along the crowded streets of Diagon Alley when she first felt a tremor go through her body. It felt like someone had reached inside her chest and yanked at her heart but she marched on. She was almost at the office when she felt the yank again. This time it was much stronger and she knew he’d found her. She was about to apparate out of the busy market when he caught up to her.
“Miss Parkinson! Pansy! Miss Pansy, please.” He finally reached her, out of breath as if he’d jogged from the other side of the busy street to catch up with her. Pansy took a deep breath and set her face in the fiercest scowl she could muster. She didn’t need this complication in her life.
“Look, Weasley! Whatever you think you ne–” The rest of the words died away on her lips as she finally looked up at him. Gone was the put-together Percy Weasley. This man looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Dark circles were dimming the blue of his eyes. He ran a hand through his uncombed hair which looked like it had grown too long since the last time she saw him.
“Pansy, look, I know this is crazy. Merlin, I’ve looked for answers for weeks but I haven’t found a thing. Please just hear me out.”
She hadn’t even realized how close she was to him, shadowed by his looming presence. Her hand reached up to touch his face without her permission and it seemed to startle them both. She would have thought he looked half mad if she didn’t feel his fear and desperation mirrored in her own heart.
“Do you feel it too? In your chest?” She asked shyly. He nodded his head frantically before she even finished her sentence.
“Yes, a tug in my chest! And I’ve been dreaming of you. I don’t mean to scare you but this showed up after the night we met,” He yanked the sleeve of his robe up to show her his wrist. There it was. It should have looked out of place on any other person but on him, it looked like it belonged. Just like her. A dainty little “P” in the prettiest script.
“I– I thought I was in it alone. I didn’t mean to cause you pain,” she muttered in a low voice. She hadn’t realized that the idea of causing him any pain would hurt her too. She looked up at him again and saw that he was still looking at her like she was precious to him. “I think we’re soulmates, Percy Weasley,” she half whispered in fear that he would laugh or push her away. What she hadn’t expected was the gentle touch of his fingers on her chin as he turned her face up to look at him. The smile on his face could have lit up a million skies.
“I think I’ve been waiting for you for a long time, Pansy Parkinson.”
Percy Weasley was far from forgettable.
Present Day
“So then, I hear the two of them standing there in front of the books and gossiping like a bunch of old biddies.” She toed her heels off and changed into one of his shirts as she continued to vent. She found him lounging against the doorframe with his arms crossed with an indulgent smile on his face as she turned to face him.
“Did you defend my honor, love?” he joked, knowing she wasn’t ready to tell the world about them yet. She wasn’t ashamed of him and he had spent every day telling her that he wanted to be with her. Pansy wanted to protect this new and precious gift the fates had bestowed upon them. She’d spent countless hours unlearning toxic behaviors and accepting this beautiful bond. They’d endeavored to heal each other with affection and understanding as they’d never experienced before. It didn't mean they didn't have bad days where they both clammed up and thought they'd blown it. But they continued to work on allowing love into their lives.
“I did. I marched right up to them and told them that you’re the best man that I’ve ever met. They can do what they wish with that knowledge,” she smirked up at him. He stared back at her, a little lost for words.
“Are you telling me you’re ready to tell our friends and family?” he tried to hide the glimmer of hope and excitement in his eyes but she spotted it anyway. She walked towards him as he unfolded his arms to pull her closer. She rose on her toes as his arms caged her in.
“I think it’s time we tell them. I’m afraid Granger and Lovegood may already know. You are my soulmate after all.” She kissed him until they were both grinning.
“I prefer husband but we might as well start small,” he murmured against her lips and carried her off to bed.