Title: Race to the Altar
Author:
little_dollfaceRating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Pansy
Warning/Notes: Written for
selinakyle47 at the 2009
pphpficexchange. Thanks so much to
terravayne for her beta work on this.
>She threw the third pair of shoes at the mirror. The mirror didn’t mind. Between its current owner and the previous one, it had had many styles of footwear hurled in its direction. In fact, the current owner was more of a screamer than her mother had been.
“Damn!” Pansy walked to her closet to assess the remaining robes. “Nothing,” she muttered. Heading back to the bed she picked up the first robe she had selected.
It was a pale coral color. Dipping low in the front, it gave a hint of cleavage and left just enough to the imagination. Her breasts - they were her best asset. Even at the age of thirty-three they were still firm and pleasantly round as ever. The size didn’t matter as much as the shape and the symmetry. In her school days, she’d seen many a girl’s chest, and hers were by far the most symmetrical. The left was only a hair larger than the right. And one could only tell from a certain, almost impossible to see, angle.
Her only complaint was the shade of her nipples. A bit darker would be nice and would make them stand out more. Not that she’d ever had a lover object, although it had been quite some time, too long in fact, since they’d been properly assessed by a wizard.
She heard the whoosh from the Floo and hurried to find the proper shoes before putting on her dress robe. Draco was early. No, he was probably perfectly on time, as always. She was just running a tad behind.
“Pansy, you ready?” Draco called from the other room.
“Yes, I’ll be there in a minute.” She was about to slip on the robes when she had an idea. “Draco, can you come here a minute? I need you to look at my boobs.” She smiled at her reflection.
“Pansy, we don’t have time for this. We’re going to be late.”
“Ah, come on, just a quick look. I need an objective opinion.” What was the harm in having him look? They’d been friends forever.
The continued silence indicated he wasn't coming. Eyeing herself briefly before she slipped on the dress, it occurred to her that she looked great for a witch her age. Thirty-three was not old.
"Pansy, really, we need to leave. You know I loathe being late."
She walked into the parlor as she put on her earrings and looked around for her purse. "Draco, there was a time you'd have done anything for a look, you know."
"Timing, dear. Our problem has always been timing." He smiled and extended his arm for her to take. She felt the tug of Apparation the moment she touched him.
The Burrow was exactly as she had imagined it. The place was swarming with Weasleys.
“Last one,” Draco said as he gestured at the flower-covered altar.
“What?”
“This is it the last wedding we'll be forced to go to, as far as I can see.”
“Well, I’ll be going to yours.” They both laughed. Rumors still circulated that Pansy would someday marry him. They always found people’s insistence on the matter quite amusing. “And Daphne Greengrass’s, of course,” she added.
“No, we missed that one. She got married last week. Eloped. Mother seems to think she had to get married.” He winked knowingly.
"What! How did I not know this?" She always had the latest gossip. "Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Draco, do you know what this means?" Her voice was laced with panic. "I’m the last one. From our year … the last one to get married. It's dreadful.”
“Relax, Pansy. You're forgetting that Granger is going to wind up an old maid. Besides, no one cares about that but you. You’re the only one keeping score.”
“Oh, Draco, thank you,” she replied, kissing him quickly on the cheek. “You're so right. I’d almost forgotten her. But she doesn't really count, being Muggle-born and all.”
Extending his arm, he said, “Come on, I know you don't believe in that rubbish anymore.”
“Absolutely, of course not.” Taking the offered arm she said, “Draco, you're splendid at making me feel better.”
He gave her a skeptical look. “Let's be seated."
A large arch decorated with white flowers and tiny fairy lights had been erected in the Weasleys’ backyard. Enchanted candles floated about, casting a beautiful glow against the darkening twilight sky. Most guests had already arrived and were waiting for the ceremony to start.
"Groom's side," Draco said to Percy Weasley when he greeted them. As they followed him to the front of the seating area, Draco whispered to Pansy, "I honestly can't believe that Nott managed to snag Ginny Weasley."
"I know!" she replied too loudly. "They are complete opposites. I have no idea what they see in each other."
"Well, they do say opposites attract," Draco said as he sat down.
"Bollocks. That makes no sense. I, for one, want a wizard who is just like me."
"You want someone who likes to wear uncomfortable shoes?" He smirked and looked at her feet. "Now those ones are quite sexy. Do you think they come in my size?"
She slapped him lightly on the arm. "Draco, I'm serious."
"Yes, I know you are, and maybe that's your problem." She gave him a scathing look but he continued. "Honestly, Pans, you have been dating the same type of wizard for years, and yet none of them seem to make the cut. There is a reason you are the last one to get married."
"Not the last. Granger, remember?"
"Stop changing the subject," he hissed. Pansy looked a bit startled at his blatant annoyance. He continued, using a softer tone this time. "Sorry, I just see that you're not happy and I want you to be." He held her hand. "I just think you should try and lighten up a bit, maybe try dating someone you otherwise wouldn't."
It was her turn for anger and outrage. The processional music had begun. Keeping her voice low but full of bite, she said, "You are one to talk! All you date are beautiful but brainless witches that you toss aside when you get bored. Your mother has been begging you to settle down for years and give her the grandson she wants so much. So don't tell me what to do with my love life when yours is pathetic at best." Livid, she got up and sat several seats away from him.
Maybe her voice had been a bit too loud and maybe she had caused a little scene, but she was just too angry to really care. He had struck a nerve and it hurt. All her life her mother had had expectations of the kind of wizard she should marry. Her mother knew men and knew what was best for her. This was something Pansy always clung to. Yet in her mother's eyes, all the men she’d dated had been simply perfect still Pansy always found some flaw to justify not marrying them. It just never felt right. They had all made her feel like a beautiful but empty shell; they didn’t care about her as long as she looked gorgeous and said the right things to the right people. She was sure it was her and not them. Try harder, that’s what she needed to do.
Composing herself as best she could, Pansy settled her eyes on the bride and groom. Ginny Weasley was nothing short of stunning. She had always been beautiful; it was no surprise that she simply glowed on her wedding day. On the other hand, Pansy had never considered Theo even remotely handsome. But today, he was beaming. She could see the love on his face as he looked at his new bride. Pathetic, really. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
She glanced at Draco. He was ogling the bridesmaids. Typical. Their dress robes weren't the ugliest she'd ever seen, but really, navy blue for a summer wedding? Pansy watched as one of the bridesmaids, the prettiest one, stepped forward and read the sappiest love poem she'd ever heard. Pansy squinted hard. Who was that witch? Then it struck her - that was Hermione Granger! Dammit! When did that happen? Yes, Fourth Year. She’d almost forgotten.
This was bad, very bad. Even with her grating, know-it-all personality, looking like this, Granger was liable to get married at any moment, although, it would take a special wizard to put up with her. Pansy could only come up with two wizards who could stand her: Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Well, Weasley was out of the question, having gotten married several years ago to Hannah Abbot. Poor thing had already popped out three kids and was well on her way with a fourth. She watched as the heavily pregnant bridesmaid tugged at her ill-fitting dress robes.
That left Potter. She craned her head to try and spot where he was sitting on the bride's side of the aisle. There he was, in the second row, and much to her dismay, he was smiling as he watched Granger finish her reading. Great. Pansy wondered if they were dating. She hadn't heard anything, but that didn't mean they weren't just keeping it private. Pansy formed a plan. First, some reconnaissance; she needed to chat Potter up a bit and see if he had any interest in Granger. And if he wasn’t dating her, chances were he knew who was. Even if they were having some sort of secret affair, he was a wizard and Pansy knew how to make any wizard talk.
The ceremony ended, and guests began making their way to an area set up with several large round tables and a massive dance floor. "Psst ... Pansy," whispered Draco, trying to get her attention.
She gave him a devious smile, no longer really angry with him. Draco always had her best interests at heart. "I’m still not speaking to you."
Ignoring Draco, she spotted Potter as he made his way thorough the crowd; she gave him a small wave. Looking over his shoulder, he returned her gesture with a confused, half-hearted smile and continued walking past. That was troublesome; this might be a bit harder than she had thought.
“What are you doing?” Draco grabbed her elbow, gently dragging her towards the edge of the crowd.
“Nothing. I have no idea what you’re on about.”
“I saw the look you just gave Potter. You were trying to flirt with him.”
Pansy blushed slightly. “Maybe, I was. What of it? You were the one who said I should try dating other wizards.”
“I didn’t exactly have Potter in mind when I said that.” He paused for a moment. “And when was it, exactly, that you started listening to me?”
“I always listen.” Walking away, she called over her shoulder, “I just don’t always do what you tell me to.”
“Looking for someone?”
A bit startled, Harry answered, “Umm … yes, my date. She seems to have disappeared.”
Damn, he had a date. Pansy wondered if it was Granger. “Who is it? I can help you look for her.”
He laughed. “Since when are you in the business of helping me? Well,” he paused, “besides helping me to my doom.”
“Oh, right. That time I tried to rally the entire Hogwarts student body to capture you so you could be killed?” Pansy smiled sweetly. “I was hoping we might just skip over that part. Let the past be the past.”
“You're something else, you know that, Parkinson?" he said as he shook his head and started to walk away.
“No, wait,” she said, stopping him in his tracks. “I was serious, about helping you.”
“Why the sudden need to make me your latest charity case?” She could feel the bitter tension in his voice.
“I didn’t quite see it that way. And I‘ll have you know that I take my real charity work very seriously. I give my time, not just my money. I do care. It’s not all for show.”
“Bravo for you. Now go tell it to someone who might care, someone like Rita Skeeter. I’m sure you’d be over the moon to see your name in bold print.”
“Says the arse who’s been front page news since birth!” Merlin, if he didn’t have information that she wanted, she would have hexed him right then and there.
Stepping a bit closer, now ready for a fight, she said, “Wait, are you drunk?”
He chuckled. “Possibly. I don’t like weddings much.”
“Especially when the bride is your ex.”
“Nope, gave her up a long time ago.” He waved Pansy off. “I like to get arsed at every wedding I go to. Get invited a lot, you know. Apparently, having the savior of the wizarding world at your nuptials is the thing to do these days.”
Pansy couldn’t help but snigger. She looked over his shoulder. “Is that Mrs. Weasley heading towards us?”
Harry turned to look. “Yes, and she looks none too pleased.”
“She’s quite frightening for such a nice witch,” Pansy said as she backed away from the approaching menace. “And bloody fast for her age.”
“Wonder what’s got her knickers in a twist?” asked Harry. He seemed more than just marginally concerned.
Pansy looked around. The dance floor was packed full. No one was sitting. Immediately, she realized what was upsetting Mrs. Weasley. “We’d better go,” she said, grabbing Harry’s hand. “The first dance is about to begin.” She watched as understanding dawned on his face.
“That’s the one wizarding tradition I never understood. Have everyone dance the first dance with the bride and groom. Bloody claustrophobic, if you ask me.”
“Well, most consider it bad luck not to, and I don’t know about you, Potter, but I’d rather do the mambo in a broom closet with the entire Holly Harpies Quidditch team than face the wrath of that witch on her only daughter’s wedding day.”
Harry laughed and rested his hand on her waist to dance. “You’re quite right.”
“You’ll find that happens a lot.” She smiled up at him and adjusted her robes before settling into his arms.
The dance started. The music was enchanting and a warm summer breeze cooled her as they danced. She was getting quite comfortable, suddenly realizing that dancing with Potter was unexpectedly pleasant. But that wouldn’t do. He may have millions of Galleons and be the so-called savior of the wizarding world, but he certainly didn’t have the upbringing or the family bloodlines her mother would find necessary. It just wouldn’t be wise to be attracted, in any way, to Harry Potter. Nothing could ever come of it.
She was so enjoying the moment that she had forgotten all about her quest: Granger and how close she was to the altar. She sighed heavily; dancing with Potter should not affect her, let alone make her forgetful.
“So, does your girlfriend abandon you often? Leave you all alone to dance with strange witches?”
“Hermione’s not my girlfriend, but no, she doesn’t often disappear like this. I hope she’s okay.”
That was good. Granger was not dating him, but that didn’t rule out her dating someone else. She needed more information.
“So, is she dating anyone? Granger, that is.” Not exactly smooth but judging from his inebriated state, the straightforward approach might just work.
“You ask a lot of questions,” Harry stated.
“Yes, I find it helps when I need to get information.”
“Why exactly are you so interested in Hermione’s love life?” He pulled the tiniest bit closer when he asked that question. It took her breath away for a brief moment.
“I’m just curious.”
“I doubt that very much.” He smirked. That’s when she caught him, his eyes drifting down towards her cleavage.
“Excuse me. Are you looking at my knockers?” If he wasn’t already flushed from the liquor, he certainly was now. “Not that I blame you, they are quite remarkable.”
Regaining some of his composure he said, “Yes, always one of your better attributes, as I recall.”
“Oh, so you’ve admired them before?” She gently tossed her hair to the side. Damn, she was blatantly flirting with him and enjoying it! She couldn’t even pretend that it was solely to coax information out of him. It was refreshing. He was unlike most wizards she knew. He had no interest in her money, her bloodline or her connections. Was she fooling herself, or did he also seem to be enjoying himself? He was drunk; that could explain a lot.
“Getting back to your question.” Apparently he wanted to change the subject. “The answer is no, Hermione’s not seeing anyone, as far as I know.”
She expected to be elated at the news. It was exactly what she wanted to hear. No marriage prospects for Granger in the foreseeable future. She would be the last one. Plenty of time left for Pansy to find a suitable wizard and finally appease her mother’s wishes. All was well, except that also meant she no longer had any reason to speak to Harry. The dance would end soon and they’d part ways. Maybe he’d ask her to dance again. The thought made her stomach flip-flop. Damn, she was acting like a Fifth Year with a crush.
“You okay? You seem upset?” She looked up at him, and he really did look concerned. She was a bit surprised that he had even noticed something was bothering her.
The song ended. Everyone clapped and the crowd began to disperse. Pansy looked around for Draco. They could leave now; they’d put in an appearance. And suddenly she wasn’t feeling all that well. The prospect of her own future weighed heavily on her mind.
Where was he?
“Hey.” Harry tapped her lightly on the shoulder. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes,” she answered while avoiding looking directly at him.
“Yeah, you seem just dandy.”
“I said I was fine.”
“No need to get snippy.”
“I am always snippy; that’s just the way I am. It’d do you some good to remember that. I’m going to find my date now. Draco couldn’t have gotten far. Damn, I’ll kill him if he left without me.” She craned her head to search above the crowd.
“Malfoy. I should have known,” he muttered. She thought she heard a hint of disappointment in his voice. “Only a tosser like him would leave like that,” he added.
“Draco Malfoy is a good man! And you of all people know that!” She pushed closer, pointing her finger in his face. “We can’t all be Harry fucking Potter.” She was screaming and he was laughing.
“What’s so damn funny?”
“You.”
“Excuse me?”
“You really should try yelling at yourself in a mirror sometime. What happens to your eyebrows is quite amusing, not to mention your nose.”
She instinctively clapped her hand over her nose. When she tried to storm off, he grabbed her arm. “Come back. I was only kidding. I know Malfoy’s a decent guy; we’ve mended things long ago. I didn’t know you two were together.”
“We’re not. And if you’ve resolved things with Draco, why did you say that?”
“Sorry, I remembered how you get when you’re angry.”
“What?” She resisted covering her nose again.
“Don’t worry, I’ve always found it appealing.”
Her heart leaped. She shook her head. This was getting out of control, but she didn’t want it to stop. Maybe, she could just indulge herself for one night.
“Come, let’s get something to eat.” He extended his hand. “You haven’t eaten until you’ve had Mrs. Weasley’s cooking.”
Pausing to think it over, this was the worst idea she’d ever had. Run! That’s what she should do. Letting herself fall for him was not a good idea. She consoled herself with the fact that it could be worse, and he could be a Weasley.
Ignoring all the rational reasons not to, she slipped her hand into his. “Sounds wonderful.”
Pansy spent the next six hours in the company of Harry Potter. It was the best date she’d ever had, except it wasn’t a date. The idea that she even thought about him in the same context as a date was insane. She wasn’t even sure why he hadn’t tried to ditch her yet. It seemed he found her amusing; he laughed every time they got into a heated discussion. But it wasn’t a dismissive laugh, and she could tell he was listening.
They had taken a seat at a table in the far corner. It was getting late and guests had started leaving. All this would be over soon. But that was for the best, right?
Gradually, she got very quiet. “So, we should probably find our dates,” he said without much force.
Draco. She’d almost completely forgotten him. It was odd that he hadn’t come to rescue her.
“Yes, we should,” she replied but remained seated. Her need to have this night never end was disconcerting. And pointless. Her mind wandered to the lunch plans she had with her mother tomorrow. No doubt their talk would mostly be about how she shouldn’t have bothered going to Theodore Nott’s wedding given that no respectable wizard would be there. She wasn’t looking forward to hearing the same admonishing speech about how old she was getting and how no well-regarded wizard would want her. She tried to imagine, in her head, how the conversation might go if she mentioned that she was interested in dating Harry Potter. Every scenario she came up with ended in tears and screaming.
They both jumped when they heard loud shouting. Harry immediately pulled out his wand. For a moment he looked quite scared. He started running towards the voices that were coming from the dance floor.
Pansy raced to catch up with him, but he had already reached the edge of the dance floor.
She leaned over his shoulder, trying to get a good look at what was happening.
“Do you want to get up on my shoulders?” he said as he swung her around in front of him. “You’ve got to see this!” He laughed as he pretended to hoist her onto his shoulders.
She punched him in the arm. “Harry Potter, put me down this instance.”
He was thoroughly amused. “You’re lucky I didn’t use my wand. Could have levitated you right up there.”
In a huff, she said, “Watch out, Potter, you’re not the only one with a wand.” She pushed him aside halfheartedly, turning her attention to what was happening on the dance floor.
What she saw blew her mind. Draco Malfoy in the center of the floor, wand out pointed directly at Ron Weasley, whose very pregnant wife was trying unsuccessfully to drag him away.
Draco was yelling, “Put that thing away, Weasley. Stop worrying about my wife and start worrying about yours. She looks like she’s about pop.”
Ron kept his wand steady. "Don't call her that. She is not your wife. It's obvious you've got her under the Imperius."
"Don't be ridiculous, Ronald!" The voice sounded familiar, but Pansy couldn’t catch a glimpse of the speaker. "Put the wand down."
Then as Draco moved to the left, she saw it. Hermione Granger at Draco's side, their hands intertwined. She was in shock.
Harry whispered in her ear, "Amazing, isn't it?"
Her mind was swirling. Did she hear him right? Had Draco just eloped with the one witch she didn't want to get married? He knew, and he had done it anyway. With Granger! Never in a million years.
This was so embarrassing; her mother was right, and she truly was an old spinster. "I'm the last one," she mumbled under her breath. Completely defeated, she plopped herself down in the nearest chair.
"Huh? The last what?" asked Harry as he sat down beside her.
She looked over at him. Here he was, while his best friends were embroiled in a fight with their former enemy, sitting next to her, wondering what was wrong with her. “Aren’t you going to help?”
“Hermione can handle herself,” he replied, glancing back at the dance floor.
“I was really referring to Weasley.”
“Ron’s just in shock. He wouldn’t actually hurt anyone. Hannah is good at calming him down.”
“I just…I can’t believe this is actually happening.” Fiddling with the edges of her robes, she continued, “I mean, it makes no sense. What was Draco thinking? His mother is going to be beside herself.”
“Just guessing here, but I’d say he fancies himself in love with Hermione. I doubt he has some sinister plan.”
“How can you be so calm about this!” She stood up to get a second look at what was happening.
“I trust Hermione’s judgment, completely. And like I said before, Malfoy has mended his ways.” He moved closer to her and the dance floor. “Besides they seem sort of happy.”
Pansy took a long, hard look at her friend. Hannah had gotten Ron to lower his wand yet Draco still had his arm locked protectively around Granger’s waist, as they continued to argue. Despite the circumstance, Draco did look content. No, more than content, happy, blissful even.
That’s when she knew. Her mother was wrong. Suddenly she didn't care so much that Granger had gotten married or that her mother might never approve of her choice of wizard. Wanting to capture a bit of happiness for herself, she leaned over and kissed Harry. It certainly wasn't the most romantic kiss ever but it made her heart beat faster.
He looked a bit stunned, and for a moment she worried that she had gotten things all wrong. But then he gave a goofy smile and she could see a hint of something in his eyes that made her beam.
Glancing over to the dance floor, she said, "Looks like our dates won't be leaving anytime soon. Take me home?" A newfound hope echoed in her voice.
He winked at her. "Yes, let's get out of here before things really get crazy."