If you could change one person's mind about something, who and what would it be?
Pansy’s screech could likely have been heard across the country.
“I can’t believe this!” she yelled, her face turning several shades of bright red, none of which did anything to accessorise her ensemble. “You- you don’t even know Gabrielle Delacour!”
Draco had expected such a reaction and was rightfully cowering. He knew just how much Pansy’s nails could hurt when dug into his arm, or how long it would take his toes to heal if she decided to spike a bright pink heel through his foot. That resourcefulness was part of what made her so attractive to him, after all.
The poor boy didn’t get an opportunity to try and calm the fire; Pansy was on her feet, bursting with continued shrieks of anger. She didn’t allow a moment to take a breath, much less hear his opinion on the matter.
“What about us, Draco? What about all those years we spent together?! What about all the ‘Oh, Miss Parkinson, the strength of your friendship with my darling boy makes me so pleased?!’ Pansy had to cross her hands across her chest to tame the urge of pulling, ripping at her hair. That’s the sort of thing only the truly mad would do.
“Was Gabrielle the one to let you copy her Arithmancy notes every week for years?! Was she the one to attend all those Quidditch practices though her interest in the game was nonexistent at best? No. She was not. And a lot of those practices were held on very cold days!!” Her own words spurred her on, evoking memories Pansy was sure she had efficiently erased.
“Was she the one, the one...”, her voice was trembling now, “...to spend two and a half awkward hours at first-time third base with you at your grandmother’s villa? Was she the one to not laugh at you that time you got pudding up your nose?! Was she the one to fall in love with you?!”
Silence. That is where she stopped. If there was one thing Pansy knew, it was how to end a rant for full dramatic effect. She could feel her words, heavy on the air, bringing her some small crumb of satisfaction, through the pain that threatened to swallow her whole.
“It was Mother’s decision. She... well, she thinks I should marry someone blonde.” Draco closed his eyes and braced himself for another outburst, but it didn’t come.
Slowly, Pansy’s face returned to its normal pallor. She let her muscles relax, even condoning one hand to nonchalantly lift a strand of hair back into place.
“Oh. We’ll see about that, then.”
Draco sighed in relief as he watched his ex-girlfriend stride away, heels clicking with every step.