A/n: I donno if this is any good. Just a production of a sleep deprived slash lover. So…ummm….enjoy.
Warnings: Mild fem-slash. Suggestive child abuse…..blah blah blah. Get the drill? Also supposed to be rather angsty. Supposed to be, don't know if I managed that. And, no, this does not have sex scenes. I hate it when most femslash fanfics have only sex scenes and hardly any story.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot thingy.
Summary: A Griffindor and a Slytherin. A Mudblood and a Pureblood. Two girls, both falling apart, come to realise that they're not that different after all. Mild femslah. PP,HG
Wooh. At least that was better than my last summary, which my kind reviewers pointed out to be unbelivably crappy.
Its mainly in Pansy's P.O.V. But not the 1st person thingy…….just read.
Learning to cry.
She held her breath to hear them better. Her heavy heart thumping a little thump as the rather shrill giggle came up above the chuckles and snorts. She pressed her back further into the cold stonewall as the stern headmistress walked by holding a very disgruntled Zabini by the ear. She didn't find it funny but a smile threatened to overcome her as Granger, clutching her sides, sank down to the floor, weak with laughter. Ginny Weasely and Longbottom pulled her down with them, once again threatening to break into hysterics.
Soon they subsided and left, disjoined giggles escaping her beautiful mouth every now and then, leaving her all alone to despair. Her back slid down the cold wall as she sat there hugging her cold knees. She was addicted……
Ever since Dumbledore's death, Hogwarts had been an utter chaos. The news of Voldemort's rise, Dumbledore's death and the deatheater's break into Hogwarts was the last straw.
Hogwarts now remained an empty shell; ghosts of tinkling laughter and foolish smiles remained to haunt those few who had stayed back. Only those who were loyal to the school and those who had nowhere else to go remained behind.
Pansy remained. Not because she had some undying loyalty towards the school. Nor because her parents died and she had nowhere to go.
You can stay with us, love. I'll take good care of you…
She remained because Mr. Malfoy's darkening blue eyes had promised to complete what her daddy had started
Because a pair of haunted gray eyes followed her…pleading, begging you…..
Because she saw what it did to him. How it consumed him. How it had reduced him to a trembling heap of uncertainty on the floor. How bloodshot and dull his beautiful silver gray eyes had become.
Because she could never forget the desperate edge in his voice. That trapped look. ….haunted grey eyes….
Don't do it, Pansy. Promise me you won't….
Go to hell, Draco.
Listen to me! ….Snape will be here any minute, now promise me,
promise me you'll never get it.
…I., …Draco! no…
Please, I might never see you again.
She couldn't bear to look into that wasted face, twisted in horror and gaunt with apprehension. And those eyes…..stalking her, following her, begging her…. those haunted grey eyes….
His trembling, clammy hands cupping her face.
Please, promise me…I'm begging you….
She shuddered. Her skin crawled where his hands touched her.
Even if it was only to get away from him
Of course, she had never meant it. But then Dumbledore died, her parents died and Draco had really truly left her. It was not until then that her promise came back to haunt her.
Now that she looked back, sitting on the cold floor, longing for those trembling hands again, she realized that Draco hadn't begged because he had loved her or because she was his fiancée or even because she was his friend.
He did it because it was his last chance. Last chance to do something good, something out of his own will before giving himself up to the Dark Lord.
He'll remain a selfish bastard to the end, she mused feeling both sad and proud of the blond slytherin, thanking him quietly.
Now that she had no friends and family, Pansy began to feel very..….relieved. A strange feeling of freedom swept her away. Free from her father, free from his expectations, free from judgmental look, free from responsibilities, free to cry….
Freedom had its costs too. And it loaded its bills on her little heart, burdening her with the pain of loneliness. The living had turned their backs on her and she was left facing people she had never bothered to acknowledge before. Naked before their eyes, her old façade stripped away from her. She felt very exposed now that she had no friends. She couldn't hide behind her name and status. And being a slytherin didn't matter anymore.
Her world changed. Fashion and money didn't seem as important anymore. Everything she had believed in looked so silly and foolish now. Soft brown eyes and small pouting lips disturbed her dreams. At least it was better than dreaming of him.
Pansy, back pressed against a cold stonewall, hugging her knees, tried to cry. Its not like she didn't have anything to cry about. Its just that…she couldn't. She hadn't cried at her parents funeral. She hadn't cried after Draco had left her and gone to serve the Dark lord. She didn't think she was capable of crying anymore.
(Stop that sniveling right this minute! Stop showing your weakness, you disgraceful girl!)
She rubbed her cold palm against her soft cheek as if trying to remember. How cold and sharp her daddy's hands had been on her cheek. How clammy and excited they were as they fumbled on her blouse buttons….hands groping everywhere, ……heavy, intoxicated breathing…..her legs spread wide open……
(Quite, baby, daddy is going to make up for hurting you….)
Her parents were yelling in the next room. Suddenly, all the shouting stopped. Pansy fled from the door.
Her mother never again looked at her in the eye. She never again interrupted when daddy came to tuck her in…
No tears dropped. Her heart was still heavy and breathing had become painful. She knew crying would help lighten the burden. After all, she'd seen so many others do it.
She'd seen Draco cry only once. Scratching, biting, tearing at the grotesque mark scorched into his pale hand. Trying to cut it away with his nails. Only later to break into fresh bouts of tears , mumbling apologies and kissing his bleeding arm.
She'd seen Granger cry. Oh, she cried a lot. Down in the kitchens scaring away the elves. Heart wrenching sobs, her body jerking uncontrollably.
Pansy found her fascinating.
Soon, her empty mind was filling with thoughts of Granger. Doesn't she ever were anything other than that ugly maroon jumper? Does her left sock always droop so much? Why does she always plait her hair?…lush brown …. How pretty her sun kissed face was. ….kissing….. Why does she smell so enticing ….like grape wine…. How tempting her soft pink tongue looked as it licked her lush lips. ….licking….
Soon it threatened to turn into an obsession. ….an addiction…
Pansy followed her around, observing her, analyzing her. Professor Sinistra had tried talking to her about her falling grades but she didn't care. As long as she could study Granger she was contented. But at times she despaired. Despaired that they were too different. From two different worlds, both falling apart, bridged only by thoughts and the fear of letting go.
Granger, she found, spend a lot of time in the kitchens. No doubt frolicking among the disgusting house elves, she thought spitefully, only later to find a rather lost and tearful Hermione sulking away between stacks of provisions. Surely missing Potter and the Weasel.
Potter had left Hogwarts – something about some Order of the Pheonix, (Pansy wasn't sure and cared even less) and had refused to let Granger and Weasely tag along. Hermione had returned the next year looking quite unlike her lively, spirited self. Ron Weasley didn't return. Pansy didn't know if he had died or had simply left like the others. She had a horrible feeling that he was dead.
She hoped not. At least for Granger's sake.
A certain thing about Granger frightend her. You see, sometimes when Granger cries in the kitchen, she laughs. She cries and laughs at the same time. A hollow, mirthless, uncontrollable laugh, which had a streak of insanity. Pansy felt it terrible to hear and left at such times as if insanity was a contagious disease.
At other times, she'd hide and watch as Granger sat there for hours at a time, tears silently making their way down her small freckled face. And sometimes, those big teary brown eyes would look in her direction and give a shuddery sigh or a soft chuckle, making her heart skip a beat.
Pansy didn't know what to make of it. She was certain Granger hadn't seen her. She was sure Granger doesn't hear her footsteps as she faithfully follows her around the castle. She was convinced that Granger never noticed as she wistfully looks at her everyday.
She was positive that Granger couldn't see her as she sat there, rubbing her cheek, trying to cry.
Pansy was so used to being overlooked that she never thought that someone might actually be noticing her.
She sat there staring as two almond colored legs (with one sock drooping) got closer and closer. Even as Hermione knelt down in front of her, a sad look on her face, Pansy's mind couldn't register that Granger was looking at her and could actually see her.
It was only after Granger spoke, that it registered. And Pansy's crumbling world came crashing down. It was only four words (uttered from that beautiful, pouting mouth) but those words did what death, loss and loneliness had failed to do.
Those four words wrenched out a strangled cry from her throat and for the first time in years, her eyes began to sting.
Are you ok, Parkinson? she had asked. Her eyes sad but understanding.
NO...,she wanted to yell, Of course I'm not ok! My parents are dead! My Draco is gone! My poor Draco is suffering…..And I'm alone! ….I have nobody. ...I don't have you……
"I'm fine." She blurted out as haughtily as she could manage with hot tears streaming down her face. Her hands were trembling uncontrollably and there was a painful lump on the throat.
Hermione raised her hand to wipe away the tears. Her thumb gently brushing the pale girl's warm, flushed cheek. And that look in her eyes - As though she knew what Pansy had gone through, as though she'd gone through the same.
As thought she really cared.
"I'm FINE!" Pansy yelled eyes brimming and shoves away Hermione's hand viciously. Hermione's face freezes and her hand drops limply to the ground. Trying to ignore the wounded brown eyes, she stumbles to her feet, muttering incoherently, "I'm fine….fine.." but her foot gave away and she was on the cold floor shaking and trembling all over. She tries to stand again only to be pulled back down by Granger. Soft brown hands circled the shocked raven-haired girl in a fierce embrace almost suffocating her. Face buried deep in those sweet soft locks, a pleasant tingling in her stomach, Pansy was finding it hard to swallow back her tears. And Somehow crying became much eaiser.
Hermione shifted here head and whispered tenderly in her ears, "Don't worry. I'll be there for you."
She got hit by a sudden flood of tears and collapsed into those soft brown arms. Rocking gently with the force of her cries, they hold on to each other.
Two girls who had lost somebody they loved. From two different worlds. A Griffindore and a Slytherin. A mudblood and a pureblood. Not so different after all.
That day, Pansy grieved. For her parents, for Hermione, for her poor, poor Draco.
No longer longing for those trembling hands and haunted grey eyes. Praying fervently that they would finally find some peace.
And for the first time in many months, Pansy slept peacefully (though on the cold stone floor). Her head resting on a soft bosom, a brown hand around her waist, embraced by a fierce brown girl with kind brown eyes, gently stroking her head. A girl who knew and understood. A girl who had lost a freckled friend whom she had once loved.
She smiled quietly as the raven-haired girl moved in her arms, still asleep. She had meant every word of what she'd said. Resting her head on the tired black head, she closed her eyes.
…..I'll be there for you……