darkness makes any woman fair

Theo looked down for a moment, laughing softly before taking a drink of the small bottle of firewhiskey in his hand. “I’d love to see you dance someday,” he said, lifting his gaze back up to her face. Truthfully, he would have never imagined that Pansy liked to dance. Then again, they hardly ever spoke about what she liked to do back when they were younger.

He shrugged. “I got sick of always going to the same stuck-up, pretentious bar across the street from my flat, so I decided to just walk around and see what I could find. I happened upon this place.” He explained.

“It seems, then, my luck is turning and this place is part of that,” she smiled prettily up at him. “You’re more than welcome to stop off at the studio where I work. You might have a run in with all of the little witches in my class, but otherwise, it’s quite a special place.”

Her expression had taken on a faraway look and she returned her focus to him. “Despite my initial greeting, it is nice to see you again, Theo.”

(Source: miss-pansyparkinson)

Harry looked at her, just, looked. He hadn’t thought about from their point of view. He came to an understanding with Draco but, never thought to come to one with Pansy. He nodded at her. “I suppose I forgive you then.”

He gulped his own drink, unmannerly, very much like a man. “Yes I am actually worried about myself control around you.” Yes he was attracted to Pansy. She was absolutely lovely, she showed him some sort of attention and to be honest, with the things going on with Ginny he didn’t know if he could trust himself not to stray. He absolutely refused to drink anymore for the reason that he loved his wife far too much to accidentally hurt her. And if anyone would be the one to help in such hurt, it’d be Pansy Parkinson. 

Pansy watched his movements, so unlike the refined movements of the men she was so used to sharing time with. Considering her recent meeting with Neville Longbottom, she supposed it had something to do with their upbringing. She glanced away at his comment.

“What can I do to help you? I promise I won’t tease you mercilessly about how incredibly hot you look with your scruff, and your shoulders and you… heavenly hair…” she waved a negligent hand his way. “What is I promise not to mention any of that, will you be swayed to try to be coffeeshop friends?”

(Source: miss-pansyparkinson)

“I suppose so…” He shrugged, trying to concentrate on not having any new kind of disaster. “Doesn’t make much difference to me really. I’ll fall either way.”

Laughing, he warily took another sip of his drink, blushing again slightly at how much of a fool he had made of himself.

“So you’re a dancer now?” He asked, “That must be interesting. What kind of work do you get doing that?”

“I’m on a small stage, right now, dancing in a rendition of A Midsummer’s Night Dream,” she replied. “I really wanted to be Puck, but I’m ensemble. Too short.”

She shrugged. “But I teach little girls ballet for my day job.”

(Source: nevillethesnakedestroyer)

Theo chuckled softly. “You, with a pole? Now, why would I ever imagine that?” He asked, letting a bright smile cross his lips. “Do you dance classical or modern?” Personally, he didn’t have a preference. Classical dancing was beautiful, but modern dancing was much more entertaining.

His shoulders raised and dropped carelessly. “I suppose,” he muttered, being modest. He had had no idea of the money his family possessed until his grandfather passed away, leaving his favorite grandson an extraordinary amount of money. Even though Theo didn’t have any offspring yet, he wanted to make it even larger for his children. 

She smirked at him, running a finger against her lower lip as she sent him a coy glance. “I’ve no idea, Theo, but I just did plant the idea in your head. I dance classical, but I do enjoy short bouts with modern. I’m dancing classical ballet these days.”

Pansy actually, danced and worked in a dance studio near Notting Hill and her place was just across the way from the upstairs cafe he’d found her in.

“So, what brings you to this neck of the woods?” she asked, taking a sip of her drink, which she’d been holding in her hand.

(Source: miss-pansyparkinson)

Theo couldn’t help but stare at her, his gaze threatening to turn into a stare after her last comment, but decided to let the comment slide. She had always been a little deprived of sensitivity, and she hadn’t been improved in that aspect. “I know better than that Pansy,” he said, a smirk tugging on his lip. “What have you been doing with your life?” He asked, just generally curious. He was always looking for things to invest in, business was practically his life nowadays, with all of his family out of the country or dead.

“I dance… ballet, before you ask if I accompany a pole,” she replied with a smirk, not wishing to say much more, since she despised being judged for her life choices by her former housemates.

She was living on her own, without the support of her parents, and she had made something of herself despite the notoriety she’d received for having spoken against The Chosen One. Bad timing, that. And though there were things she continued to mourn and a great many things she regretted, venturing out into the wide world without a safety net was not one of them.

“You appear to be doing well for yourself.”

(Source: miss-pansyparkinson)

Neville took her glass, nodding a thank-you and taking a sip, glancing up at her and accidentally choking on the water, gasping and spluttering until a nearby waiter helpfully thumped him on the back. Grimacing slightly, he wondered if there would ever come a day when a woman tried to talk him and he didn’t manage to ruin the whole affair with his incessant clumsiness. “Sorry,” He croaked, wearing a slightly pained expression, pretty sure that his chances with her had been blown from the word ‘go’. 

Deciding to just go for her question and get this whole miserable meeting over with, Neville gave her a small smile, still bright red. “Well, uh, I mean, people trip me over a lot less?” He half asked, shrugging.

She watched him struggle with drinking water and wondered if he was alright just as the waiter came buy to whack him on the back. Her eyes grew wide at the whole spectacle.

Pansy shook her head when he apologized and then when he answered her question, she grinned.

“Well, at least that’s a good thing, right?”

(Source: nevillethesnakedestroyer)

Neville wondered if it was possible for a person to blush so darkly they turned into a beetroot. If it was, then he was definitely nearing that stage. The way she was just purring at him. Neville thought that he would never get used to being attractive, if that was how other people saw him now. Whatever happened, he didn’t think he would ever get away from his past as the awkward little chubby Gryffindor; It was just who he was.

“I-I-I mean-” He stuttered, stumbling over his words, “It doesn’t bother me. A-at least, I mean, being beautiful never really can be a-a bad thing… can it?” Sighing, Neville rubbed the back of his neck. Flirting definitely was not his thing.

“Can’t it?” she repeated in standard Socratic style. “What has your recently won good-looks done for you lately, love?” she asked with a feline smile. She watched, mesmerized, as the blush that started at his neckline, crept up his cheeks and rose to his forehead. It wasn’t until he’d taken on the patina of a cooked lobster that Pansy suddenly realized she’d just encountered a very rare species of wizard, indeed.

The honest kind.

Imagine that.

“Water?” she asked, offering him her ice cold tall glass of H2O.

(Source: nevillethesnakedestroyer)

thats-mr-nott-to-you:

Pansy smiled. “No, just admiring the view. Is that alright?”

He arched an eyebrow. The Pansy he used to know wasn’t this social towards him. But then, she wasn’t as pretty either. “I suppose,” he murmured, letting his shoulders shrug.

She turned from the picture window that overlooked a dazzling view and cast him a sidelong glance. Pansy watched him shrug but his casual negligence hadn’t hid his quiet assessment of her, nor did it hide his more suspicious nature. She couldn’t help a sly smile that twitched at the corner of her mouth and the mischievous thought that flit through her mind at the sight of his ever arched brow.

“And as for you, I supposed you’re not so bad to look at. After all, you’re not as twiggy as you were back in Hogwarts. Expecting a sweeter Pansy Parkinson, Nott?”

(Source: miss-pansyparkinson)

I have been for quite a while now.

Did you need anything, Pansy?

Pansy smiled. “No, just admiring the view. Is that alright?”

“Still sounds like the same old Pansy.” He said with an annoyed chuckle. He removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes roughly and took another glance at her. Still lovely even when eh was half blind. He grunted and placed his glasses back on. Beauty was only skin deep though, something Pansy proved to him time and time again. 

“Complicated?” He scoffed looking at her as if she knew anything about complicated. “How could anything with him be complicated. Sure i’ve come to an understanding with that friend of yours but, he’s still a git. I don’t think he can handle complicated things.” Harry, growing impatient ordered a glass of tea, well what he thought was tea and gave her another look.

“Please Pansy, everyone knew he wanted me dead. Everyone knew how much my dumb luck saved me with the help of my friends and you stood there and told everyone to deliver me anyway. One does not forget when someone offers someone up for death.” Harry stifled an exasperated sigh. He held far too much guilt for what happened that day. The day coming so soon, so many people dying. As years went on he knew it wasn’t his fault but, it still bothered him. He still felt so responsible and mortified, and half wished that everyone had taken up Pansy’s offer. “Oh, and had you just handed me over-I wouldn’t have won.” He remembered what Dumbledore said at King’s Cross. How sacrifice is what kept him alive in the first place. A simple offer wouldn’t have done anything but, end the war in the worst way. Still though, he half wished they’d all listened. He grunted and clenched his fist, trying to calm himself.

“You make me sound like an old broom to be tossed away, unsalvageable because I gave you a few bad turns during a critical point during a match,” she murmured with a pout. From what she recalled of their time at Hogwarts, Harry had defeated the Dark Lord, and any number of his minions, time and time again since First Year. It had never crossed her mind that he would fail. In fact she’d been so sure of the Golden Trio’s chances that she’d spent the better half of Sixth Year trying to convince her parents to stay neutral during the war. Voldemort was a mad man, everyone in their right mind knew it, even Draco had finally seen the light mid-Sixth Year.

“Believe it or not, Potter,” she added more passionately. “You’re not the only one who has layers to his character. All snakes have layers upon layers, sometimes we have to shed them, too.” She paused to take a sip of her tea and then gave him another assessing glance. “What is it that you’d like me to do, then, apologize for my wayward teenaged response to fear and duty? I am well and truly sorry. Honestly, I am.”

Pansy crossed her arms at her chest. “Is it so terrible to try to be friends?” she finally asked after glaring at him for a full minute. “Are you so worried that you lack the self control to be around me? I mean, we could just have coffee every now and again. Would that be so terrible?”

(Source: miss-pansyparkinson)