Safe, In My Dorm
I am definitely blind.
No, I am not kidding you. I felt around the room and bewitched my quill to write for me.
Allow me an explanation.
So I'm walking through the halls, back to the Common room, mind my own business when I hear this noise. It was a crash, and whenever you hear a crash, you know the cause of the crash is never, ever good.
Point in case: Daphne and Theodore Nott.
Theodore bleeding Nott.
They knocked over a chair, and I could tell because Theodore was still sitting in it. Daphne was on top of him (oh my virgin eyes… how they burn) and she was snogging him like the last bit of oxygen in the world was in his lungs and she was determined to get to it. At first, I thought maybe she had suffocated him, but he somehow managed to get out of the chair and he practically threw her on the teacher's desk (ickle Daphne, stickler for every rule there is, getting her brains snogged out on a teacher's desk) and they continued their disgusting display.
I backed out of the room silently, praying to whatever divine force controls what goes on in this school that my vision would not regress. I managed to get to the Common room and spit out the password before collapsing on the settee in a fit of obscenities.
Honestly, I didn't know Daphne knew Theodore Nott even existed, let alone cheated on Blaise with him. This reminded me of the arseholian boyfriend she was betraying. If it had been anyone (and I do mean anyone) else, I would have congratulated Daphne. Nott, let's just say he's invisible here. Every once in awhile I remember he's in our house, but other than the whole 'my-dad-was-a-Death-Eater' the boy should have been sorted into Ravenclaw. I just realized this is the first time I've seen Nott without his abnormally pointy nose not in a book. Oh goodness, I hope he doesn't somehow poke her eye out when they're snogging. That would be hard to explain…
So after a few terrible visions of Daphne with only one eye, I stumbled up the stairs and into my bed, which is where I currently reside. If I die of some eye related illness, I want my epitaph to state Daphne was the reason for my death and if weren't for her obsession with strange boys, my tragic end could have been avoided. I want it to also state that I was right; Blaise is the worst boyfriend one can have.
I believe Daphne has just entered our sacred dormitory and I must now harass her about Nott. May I live to see tomorrow. Godspeed, journal.
Pansy, Your Blind Queen
October, 1997 A Week after the Last Entry about Daphne
The Common Room
I only mention the specific 'a week after the last entry about Daphne' because that little tart threw you out the window. Yes, you've been lying out there for a whole seven days. You see, she didn't steal you until after I went to bed, so I had no idea until I happened to look out the window this morning, only to see a small leather book lying there. I had to accio you in here, because I am afraid of heights and there was no way I was going out on that roof.
So, to make a long, painful story painfully short, I kissed Draco.
Yes, that's right. I, Pansy Parkinson, kissed Draco Malfoy. On the lips, in front of the whole common room.
Score five for Queen Pansy. That's right, this definitely deserves two points.
It was after dinner, and almost everyone was assembled in the Common room, doing schoolwork or something as equally boring. Daphne wasn't talking to me (we made up later) and she was sitting over in the corner with Blaise, but whenever I looked over at her, she was staring holes into Nott's head in the opposite corner. He was oblivious; his pointy nose stuck so far up that book I thought maybe it would just suck him in and end all our miseries, but sadly, that was not the case.
Anyway, back to Draco…
He was sitting on the settee closest to the fireplace, the omnipresent Crabbe and Goyle standing a few meters behind the couch. I could tell by his posture (slumped over, arms spread on the top of the sofa) that he was brooding. About what, I still don't know, but he was.
I sauntered over, sitting at the very edge of the cushion. My magically shortened skirt (which came from my own closet for once) hiked up a bit, but he didn't seem to notice. He was too busy glaring into the fire, but I didn't let that discourage me. I let my hand hover above his knee for a moment before it fell. "What's wrong?" I purred.
He finally stopped shooting daggers into the fire long enough to look over at me and raise a brow. "Nothing. Now get your hand off my knee."
I moved it up his thigh. "Better?" I asked.
He took my hand and dropped it on my lap. "I'm not in the mood for your games Parkinson."
I reached out and let my finger trace from his ear to his jaw. He didn't move; he didn't say anything. We held eye contact, and once I reached his chin, I let my finger move to his lip. Something sparked in his eyes, and there for a moment I thought he was going to bite me. Honestly, it wouldn't have surprised me; whenever Mother and the Malfoys were getting along when I was younger, he would come over to play and he bit me once. Needless to say, I bit him back and we left it at that. Now though, if he had bitten me, I don't know what I would have done.
I leaned in and kissed him; nothing hot or heavy, but I have to admit, I saw stars afterwards. He opened his mouth just a little bit, but before it could get any deeper, I pulled back.
His mouth was slightly open and he looked like I felt. I touched his cheek and rose, resisting the urge to run up the stairs and fling myself on my bed. My ears were ringing and I was positive my cheeks were red.
I finally made it up the stairs, and about the moment I turned around Daphne flew up the stairs. We stared at each other for several long moments before she flung herself at me. We fell back onto my bed and she hugged me so tight I was afraid she'd pop my head off. "Pansy!" she squealed.
I pushed her off me and laughed. It had been awhile since Daphne and I laughed together, but after a few minutes of hysterics, she sat up and looked at me. "Blaise doesn't know," she said, looking at her hands. Her nails are always perfectly lacquered and I've always been jealous (not that I would ever admit that). "I don't want him to know. I'll- I'll sort this out myself."
I sat up too, pulling my knees to my chest. "I won't say a thing."
Uh oh, dinner. And since I don't plan on missing it, I must leave.
Pansy, Queen of Daphne's Dirty Little Secret
So Daphne and I have made up, meaning the planets have realigned and everything is right in the world. We sat next to each other at breakfast, which even though I'd rather die than admit this out loud, there's a reason why she's my best friend. Once you get past her 'worship-the-ground-I-walk-on' façade, she has the dirtiest mouth I've ever heard. Must be all that extended time with Nott.
Speaking of which, guess who got a flower this morning…
No, it wasn't me, unfortunately.
Anyway… I digress. Being as the planets have realigned and everything is right in the world, Daphne and I are having our monthly "Girls' Night" this Saturday (tomorrow), meaning the chocolate fountain shall overflow with it's chocolaty caramel goodness. Must stock up next Hogsmede visit…
Speaking of Hogsmede, I found out who Draco is taking.
Her name is Guinevere Pritchard, and she's a sixth year Slytherin. Apparently, Daphne and Blaise have a double date with them tomorrow, and Daphne hates her. One because she has perfectly white teeth (Daphne has this strange thing about girls with perfectly straight white teeth. I have no clue where it came from, but apparently it annoys her to no end. It was all she could talk about, and her being annoyed with it is starting to annoy me, but back to the point of the story…) and two because she used to have a thing for 'Theo' as Daphne so affectionately calls him. The entire time Daphne was talking about her she was digging her quill into her parchment, and it wasn't until the quill snapped that she realized what she had been doing.
I casually suggested that we pull a little revenge on her for having such perfectly straight white teeth and Daphne got all excited, so now we must come up with ideas.
1. Hex her teeth so they are crooked and yellow. We can put a big gap in the front so her voice gets all messed up when the air whistles through the gap. (Daphne's idea)
2. Cut her hair when she's asleep and take down all the mirrors so she doesn't know.
3. Hex her clothes so they all turn into big, shapeless bags.
4. Hex her mouth so all her teeth are gone. (Once again, Daphne's idea)
5. Kidnap her, make a Polyjuice potion, kill her, bury the body, go to Hogsmede with him and be back before it wore off, otherwise known as the original plan
Ah, so many options… so little time.
Pansy, Queen with Murder- I mean, Plans (without the 'murder' part)
The Dorm, Girls' Night
Well, today was a not as much as a disaster as I figured it would be. Some people might even call it a small victory, but I shall do no such thing.
I lied. It was a small, teeny-weeny, itty-bitty victory for Queen Pansy. Score six for moi.
Daphne set it up so they (as in Blaise, Draco, Guinevere and herself) would be in the Three Broomsticks at exactly one thirty. I couldn't go there alone, being as that would insinuate I have no dignity and being as I have plenty of dignity, I simply couldn't go alone. So Daphne talks Nott into officially asking me, meaning Nott and I had to remain in close contact for longer than fifteen minutes.
That in and of itself was a disaster.
We sat at a table in the corner, not making eye contact, not speaking, not doing anything except staring at the table in the opposite corner. We didn't even order food, we just stared, and that gave me a creepy stalker feeling but as long as he was doing it, I was going to as well.
Every time Blaise touched Daphne, Nott made a low growling sound. The first time I heard it I thought it was my stomach, being as I hadn't been able to eat breakfast and there was food being served to other people so it was only natural my stomach would growl, but for once it wasn't. There was even one time Blaise leaned over and kissed Daphne's cheek and Nott literally fell off his chair. There for a minute I thought there might be a scene, but Nott just stood, brushed himself off and left.
I probably should have followed him, but I didn't. I wanted to see what Guinevere and Draco were up to.
It wasn't halfway through before Draco tried putting his hand on her knee, and she glared at him. He pulled his hand away, and about five minutes later he tried again, this time she hit him and he backed off for good. They didn't talk the rest of the time, and I had to admit, the feeling of pure glee inside me was threatening to burst.
I stood to use the loos, but as I was coming out, I ran smack into Draco.
"Ah, Parkinson," he drawled, crossing his arms and smirking. Oh how I have come to loathe that smirk. "Just couldn't stay away, could you?"
I smiled, clasping my hands to keep them from shaking. Honestly, I was no good at comebacks. "I also saw you just couldn't stay away from Guinevere's knee. You would think after the first rejection you'd just give up."
His smirk deepened into a frown. "Well," he snapped, straightening up. "At least I got a date."
My smile widened. I love you Daph… "Actually I was here with Nott. He was feeling a bit sick so he stepped out for a breath of fresh air. I think I'll go join him, if you'll excuse me."
I brushed past him, being sure my hand brushed his arm. I was positive my cheeks were flaming. I swear I can't even look at the boy for more than five minutes without blushing. After pushing through the door, I turned around in time to see his scornful look. My stomach dropped, but right before the door swished shut the look changed. I imagined it was longing, but the door shut and I wasn't about to open it up again and check.
I walked around a bit, not daring to go back to the carriages in case they were anywhere near there. After a bit of wandering, I happened upon Nott.
He was sitting in an alley, smoking a Muggle cigarette. I didn't know he knew what they were (considering I only found out when Mother send me to France last year, and after trying one I wanted to swallow soap to get the taste out of my mouth.) He was sitting down (probably in a pile of muck being as those alleys aren't the cleanest things), and he was repeatedly hitting the back of his head against the wall. He'd stop long enough to take a drag, then start it back up. It would have been funnier if he didn't look so depressed.
I lied. It was still pretty funny.
So I walked up next to him and sat down, after cleaning the spot up a bit first, of course. He looked over at me and rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. I figured this would be the closest thing to an invitation I'd ever get, so I sat down.
He rummaged around in that thick overcoat he always wears and pulled out the cig pack and offered me one. I took it, but I didn't light it. "Daphne doesn't like smokers," I told him. It wasn't a fact, she had never told me if she had a preference or not, but it could have been the truth.
He laughed. "Too bad she got me hooked."
Cue awkward silence.
"You're her best friend, right?"
I looked over at him, and when he realized I wasn't going to answer until he looked at me, he turned his head towards me. "You could say that," I told him, twirling the cig. "Why?"
He turned his face away. "Nothing."
He rose, brushing his coat off before extending his hand to me. I didn't take it, but I did offer a small (note: tiny) smile. "Thanks, but I think not."
He dropped the cig and stepped on it before shoving his hands in his coat pockets. "We better be heading back."
"Yes, wouldn't want to miss Daphne, now would we?"
He didn't say anything, and he hasn't even made eye contact with me since then, but that's okay. Maybe Nott isn't as bad as I thought he was.
Daphne just got here and surprise! Her clothes are rumpled, her hair is down and the back of her skirt is so wrinkled her knickers are visible. I'm going to wait… bloody rats she just noticed. Oh well, time for Girls' Night so I must go. Tomorrow I will tell you all the dirty secrets I learned, and life will go on.
So long and goodnight.
Pansy, Queen of the Chocolate Sitting in front of Her