For eska_rina; who requested Harry/Pansy or Neville/Parvati, fluff, any rating, and chocolate for the I Didn't Get To Go To TWH Ficlet-a-thon.

Title: Cheers, Pansy
Rating: PG
Pairing: pre-Pansy/Harry
Summary: Chocolate, Pansy, Harry, two firewhiskies, first names, House unity, a broken heart, and Slytherins are capable of loving. Dialogue-only.




“That one, there.”

“What, this one?”

“No, the other one.”

“This one?”

“Potter, you are being a bloody nuisance. I meant that one, right there, the one I am pointing at. Give it to me, now.”

“Gladly.” An inane smile. “This is fun.”

“What is? Giving me headaches? Making my soul cry? Being insane?”

“All of the above.” Laughter. “No, I meant, working in Honeydukes on weekends. Everyone in school is addicted to sugar, I swear.”

“You would expect anything less?”

“It is fun, though. You wouldn’t expect it, the place being so busy and all, having to work so much in a few hours, but it keeps my mind occupied.”

“You mean occupied, like the Weasley kid didn’t.”

Silence. “That’ll be seven sickles and two knuts, Parkinson.”

“Whoops, I appear to have hit a nerve.”

Painful look. “Your money, please. Pay for what you wanted, or have you spent your whole life stealing that you’ve forgotten?”

“You watch your mouth, Potter.” Dagger-eyes. “Don’t assume things when you don’t know anything.”

“Then you keep your mouth shut, Parkinson. Don’t talk about her. You know what happened.”

“The world does. You’re Harry bleeding Potter. Even the people under the rocks know about you and...you.”

“...thanks for reminding me.”

“Anytime.”

More silence. “I’m on break now.”

“Are you? That’s nice. I have to be going.”

“Don’t lie, Parkinson. I haven’t finished telling you how fun being a clerk is!” Back to being happy. That was quick.

“Oh, dear Merlin, someone shoot me now.”

“Wait for me, okay?”

“Potter, you know when Dumbledore said all that crap about House unity and stuff, he didn’t really mean it like this–“

“But Hermione and Ron are always with their partners. They got Ravenclaws, I don’t see why I had to get stuck with a Slytherin.”

“We are not the plague, Potter.”

“Could have fooled me.” Into one room, and out of another. “Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.”

Rooted to her spot. “Please don’t tell me you just said that.”

He’s laughing again. “Don’t be such a prude, Parkinson.”

Door opens. “Jesus, it’s cold.”

“No shit, Potter. It’s the middle of winter. Or have you forgotten, being around candy all the time? Makes you kinda intoxicated, huh?”

“Yeah, it does, actually. Everything seems to be in garish colors of pink and blue, now.”

She won’t laugh, but she wants to. “How nice for you.”

“Isn’t it?”

People are staring. “People are staring.” Snort. “I can’t believe I’m walking next to Potter in the snow, and he is going to buy me a drink, and all because of a stupid House unity project.”

“Er, Parkinson. I’m still here.”

“I am aware of that all too well.”

Sigh. “You know, I’m trying to make this work out.”

“I can see.”

“I mean–you remember in first year, don’t you? When Malfoy offered me his hand and told me to be his friend, and I said–“

“–you said no, and then Draco said bad things about you in the common room all night, and we were shocked about his knowledge of curse words and Dark hexes that we didn’t sleep a wink, and that’s why we were all late for Charms the next morning.”

“...oh. Er. Okay, then.”

“I just finished the story for you. I bet you never heard that chapter.”

“No, I haven’t. The untold story, that was.” He opens the door. “Ladies first.”

Eyebrows shoot up. “What a gentleman, Potter.”

“I do try.” Crooked smile.

She’s walking too fast. “Parkinson, slow down.”

“I don’t want anyone to see me.”

“That’s really too bad.” Grabs her arm; stops her. “Rosmerta, mind if we–?”

“The bar? Sure, dear.”

Shock. “Potter! Why are we sitting in the front!?”

“Because they’re the best seats.”

“They’re the best seats when I’m sitting with someone I’m not humiliated with. You are ruining my life.”

“You’re too kind. Too kind, really.” Slaps the table. “Two firewhiskey, Rosie.”

“Coming up, Harry.”

Silence. “...why do you call her Rosie?”

“We’re on good terms.”

“You pervert.”

“I get around.”

“You pervert!”

Manic laughter. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding. God, Parkinson.”

Pause. “So you were saying...”

“What? Oh. Oh, right. Malfoy. Well, that was my first bad experience with you lot–“

“Slytherins, Potter. By no other name we do go.”

“...uh-huh. Anyway, after that, it was just one horrible thing after another, and we never did get along all this time, and now we’re in seventh year, and it’s been awhile, hasn’t it? And those stupid fights, they never stopped.”

“.....”

“And then Dumbledore proposed this project, of having partners for House unity and all that stuff, and I got you, and you’re a Slytherin, and I kind of don’t want this to end up like all the other things that have happened with you and your Housemates in the past.”

“You mean...badly.”

“Right.”

“You know, Potter–“

“Two firewhiskies?” Eyes on Pansy. “‘Lo, Pansy.”

“Ciao, Rosmerta.”

“Thanks, Rosie.”

Wink. “Have fun, Harry.”

“...oh no, she did not.”

Blush. “I don’t think she meant it.”

“You don’t think a lot of things. She meant it, I know she did.”

“Ewww...”

“Exactly.”

Smile. “Well, I was saying...yeah, I was saying. Erm. I kind of don’t want this to end badly. We can have fun, you know, if you stop being such a cold-hearted bitch and start being a normal human being.”

Mock shock. “Me? A cold-hearted bitch? You really don’t know me, Potter.”

“Which is what this is for.” Gesture to the drinks. “What d’you mean, you aren’t a bitch? Stop lying, Pansy.”

Almost a smile. “I’m just a realist, Harry.”

Sip. “So, toast to what?”

“Oh, we’re toasting now?”

“Of course we are. That’s tradition.”

"Whose?"

"Mine."

“Idiot. Alright, then. A toast to...a toast to cold-hearted bitches everywhere...”

“...and a toast to all the broken-hearted men...”

“...and to chocolate with almonds..”

“...and to bright hues of pink and blue...”

“...and to me!”

“And to you.”

Clink. “Oh. I have something to go with this.”

“What, an olive and a fancy glass with the rim salted?”

Look. “What are you talking about?”

“Bushy isn’t the only one who watches Muggle movies, Potter.”

“Don’t call her Bushy.” Found it. “Ah, here it is.”

“What’s that?” Wide eyes. “Chocolate?”

“Yes. God, you look like someone just poked you with a pin.”

“Shut up.” Reaching out. “Well, no wait, then.”

“Hey, hey! What’s up with you? Chocolate addict much?”

Slap. “Just hand it over.”

Breaks off a piece. “Bigger one?”

“Of course.”

“...hungry much?”

“I love chocolate.” Pause. “I didn’t just say that.”

“Wow, Slytherins are capable of loving? What a newsflash!”

“Potter. You. Whore.”

“Pansy, did you just call me a whore?”

“Yes I did, Harry, I did just call you a whore.” Ugly face. “Ugh, I’m calling you by your first name.”

“Quick, eat more chocolate, before you faint.”

“Right away.” Swallow. “Ah, that was good.”

“Pansy has a sweet tooth...” Singsong.

Glare.

“...anyway...we should be going back.”

“You to work?”

“Just to get my stuff. I’m over for the day.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I’ll, er...come with you.”

Stare. “You will?”

“I mean–no! Not because, you know, I actually like you or anything. I mean, Draco is with his Hufflepuff, probably setting her on fire or something...and so is Blaise...and Millie is–Millie’s doing that, too!”

“You know the fire thing was really kinky-sounding.”

“....it is.”

“I wouldn’t put it past Malfoy to do that, actually.”

“Me neither.”

Smirk. “But you see? Everyone’s out with their partner except you. Loner much, Parkinson?”

“Hey, they’re probably stabbing their partners to death. I’m not even touching you.”

“And thank God for that.”

“What, do you want me to?”

“No!” Slow smile. “...maybe...”

“Potter, you disgusting idiot.”

“Parkinson, you raunchy slut.”

Dual slap. He drags her along. “Come on, I’ll give you free chocolate.”

“What’s wrong, too weak to fight me? Trying to bribe me?”

“On the contrary.” Slowing down. “Hey. Pansy.”

“What. Potter.” She’s mocking him, now.

“Erm...thanks.”

Stops in the snow. “Pardon?”

“I said–I said thanks.”

“For what? My presence?”

Grin. “No. Well, maybe. Just–thanks for not mentioning Ginny. After that first time.”

Oh. “Oh. Alright, then.”

Walking along. “I can’t believe I just thanked a Slytherin.”

“I can’t believe I just accepted a thank you from a Gryffindor.”

Shaking his head. “Strange things in this world.”

And this time, she does smile.

“You got that right.” Picking up the pace. “Now where’s that chocolate, Potter? I need my energy for sleeping in class, you know.”

“Cheers, Pansy.”

-fin