Why Are Blueberries Bitter?


AU: HBP/DH Ginny/Harry never happened.
A/N: A little stranger than my average stories, but the idea came and wouldn't leave me alone.

Pansy Parkinson sat at the table in her favorite outdoor diner, reflecting back on her years at Hogwarts. She was eighteen now, had been a graduate for a year, and was still completely and utterly single.

The one man she thought she had loved, till she took a convenient step back and slapped him, was Draco Malfoy.

Sure, he was kinda cute, and had plenty of money to go with him. But, he was anything but a decent man. Especially after he slept with that slut, Daphne Greengrass. What a friend she was.

Pansy stirred her fork absentmindedly through her blueberry pie. She really didn't know why she bothered ordering the stuff. She hated blueberries. They tasted so terribly bitter.

Sighing, she dropped her fork haphazardly on her plate and leaned back to stare at the evening sky. Pale blues mixed with vibrant purples, delicate whites collided with ambitious scarlets, two delicate green orbs floated distantly downward, until, at long last, her gaze wandered to where they rested.

Silently across from her sat the hero of the hour. He had saved the entirety of the wizarding world and had been in every magazine and tabloid from London to New York.

She had never been kind to him during their times together at Hogwarts, but, all the same, he sat across from her and watched her quietly.

"Fancy seeing you here," he said suddenly, she nearly jumped out her seat when he did so. His gaze darted from her face to her left hand and back, "Still single?" his voice was not at all forceful or malign. The words still ate at her. Seeing her eyes shrink from pain, Harry apologized instantly.

Pansy simply shook her head and waved a dismissive hand, then lowered her eyes to her plate and stared at the pie before her.

Harry changed the subject quickly,

"You like blueberry pie?" he asked, crouching down slightly to more closely look into her eyes.

"No," she sighed, "I used to, I don't know why, I just... don't like the stuff anymore." she looked up toward him apprehensively, "The blueberries just taste bitter, you know?"

Harry's eyes gradually descended as he investigated her form. She was incredibly beautiful. Not at all the girl he knew at Hogwarts.

Or perhaps she was the same person, the same girl? The same person without the terrible overshadowing of Draco Malfoy. Harry met her eyes gently, taking in the true black that reflected back at him.

"Pansy," he whispered, "Why do blueberries taste bitter?"

At first, she thought the question was stupid. And, taken at face value, it was just that, stupid. She allowed her mind to swim through her memories, and allowed herself to be absorbed in each one.

"There's nothing sweet left to savor." she said blandly, ignoring how odd her words sounded. Harry, unabashed, smiled back at her.

He stood, as if to leave, but instead, walked to her side and knelt. His left hand reached to her fork and raised it carefully, speared a blueberry, and raised it to her mouth.

"Try another one." he said kindly, wrapping his right arm around her for support.

Obediently, she closed her mouth over the fruit, pulled backward, and allowed the blueberry to slide off the fork and invade her taste buds. She chewed and swallowed, and crinkled her nose cutely.

"Still bitter." she said with sense of finality.

Harry leaned in toward her, brushed the hair from her cheek, and kissed her gently. As he pulled back slowly, he smiled sweetly.

Her blueberries could be sweet again.