prompt. ron/pansy.
Pansy watched silently as Ron snorted when Granger tackled little Geoffrey Weasley into the ground. “Come on, Ron!” she yelled, tickling Charlie’s youngest son mercilessly. “He’s not surrendering!”
Ron had been invited to the Weasleys’ usual picnic on the beautiful Saturday morning in May. He had happily obliged and mentioned bringing his girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson. His mum said nothing, only stating for him to bring some potatoes before coming. (“Ginny’s making her famous potato skins,” she had informed him.) Overwhelmed with the thought of delectable food, Ron had completely dismissed Pansy’s look of utter fright when he had told her where they would be staying that weekend.
Pansy knew that his family loathed her - she could see it in the stiffness of his mother’s voice when she spoke - in the way Ron’s father would glance disapprovingly at her. She might be twenty times richer than they were, but when she was in their presence, she felt as small as an ant. His siblings ignored her, aside from Ginny, who would politely start conversations of useless things. Pansy gave the girl some credit, though. It had been five years since they had left Hogwarts, but Pansy knew the petite redhead held a hate for her that no other girl could even think of holding. Maybe it was because Pansy went to Ron after Draco had left her - or maybe it was because Draco had left Ginny to marry her. It wouldn’t matter, anyway, because nothing, as always, went as planned, and Draco found himself again in Ginny Weasley’s arms.
Ron never questioned Pansy’s past lovers - he never questioned what she had done in the war and had never inquired why she had a long, winding scar on her back. He took her for what she was when she had come to him - and this reason alone was what spurred her to love him.
He defended behind closed doors when his family went too far - and sometimes he even thought that she wasn’t listening, but she was. She heard every insult they whispered behind her back and every sneer they tossed her when she let her head down. She knew they would never forgive her for what she had done - for what she was forced to do.
It was the summer of her seventh year when her father urged her to kill one of his companies’ brightest interns. He had told her that the boy was unsuccessful and that he does nothing to help bring galleons in. (“You will do right by me, Pansy,” he had told her. “You will make the family proud.”) Terrified of the darkest man of their time and itching to have her father’s approval, Pansy had done it - not knowing that this boy was a close relative of the Weasleys - not knowing that he was a member of the Order.
“Pansy!” yelled a laughing voice.
Shaking away her thoughts, Pansy looked up and feigned a smile. Ron was currently wrestling with little Geoffrey on the floor, Granger in the middle of them. Unable to see the sight of her lover and his past playing with a child that they could’ve called their own, Pansy glanced away and inhaled. The rest of the family was seated a few feet away, guffawing at something the twins did. She didn’t feel welcome around them, she so usually sat far away, somewhere in the corner. She had pulled up a chair and wrapped herself in the light cloak she had brought. It would always get chilly at night in the summer - she hated it.
Running a hand through her black hair, she jumped slightly when she felt someone standing beside her. Impulsively, she glanced up and shrank back when she spotted the eldest Weasley staring down at her.
She kept quiet and pretended he wasn’t there.
“Do you mind if I sit?” he asked kindly, pointing to the chair in front of her.
She couldn’t remember if she had placed that chair there or not, but she nodded dumbly and ogled at the tall, built man as he made himself comfortable.
Her housemates would cackle if they saw found out how she was acting. Being afraid of the Weasleys? That’s not Parkinson behavior. But, that was back then. The war had changed everything - her views, her morals, and her values. She felt as if someone was always there - always watching her. She was scared of the tiniest things - scared that something so small could hurt her like things had before.
“I wanted to tell you that I was sorry,” he blurted.
Pansy’s breath caught in her throat. What?
The Weasley man ran a hand through his hair - a habit she had gotten from Ron. He must’ve gotten it from this brother. “I was rude and completely out of line these past few weeks. The way I’ve treated you was revolting and I’m sorry I only realized this now.” He stared intently at her. “Ron loves you. That should be reason enough to treat you like a person.”
Speechless, Pansy froze. What?
The Weasley man stood up and held out a hand. “Would you like to help me make oatmeal cookies in the kitchen? They’re Ron’s favorite.”
Gulping, Pansy slowly stood up, too, and placed her small, weathered hand in his. She squeezed his hand and smiled humbly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He led her off the patio and past the table, where the Weasleys sat, all looking a mixture of guilty and bewilderment. Pansy turned her head and caught the wide smile on Ron’s face. He mouthed the words, “I love you”.
Pansy paused for a mere second and mouthed back, “I love you, too.”
And this is how it starts.
Still waiting on a few of the judges to get back to me with the lists. We need to find our FA [featured author] and FAr [featured fanartist] for the site before Indulgence I begins. We're still not as publicized as I wish, but that'll be okay. I can only hope someone spreads the word. ;)
Well, I'm off to write. Alot more prompts to go.
Ron had been invited to the Weasleys’ usual picnic on the beautiful Saturday morning in May. He had happily obliged and mentioned bringing his girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson. His mum said nothing, only stating for him to bring some potatoes before coming. (“Ginny’s making her famous potato skins,” she had informed him.) Overwhelmed with the thought of delectable food, Ron had completely dismissed Pansy’s look of utter fright when he had told her where they would be staying that weekend.
Pansy knew that his family loathed her - she could see it in the stiffness of his mother’s voice when she spoke - in the way Ron’s father would glance disapprovingly at her. She might be twenty times richer than they were, but when she was in their presence, she felt as small as an ant. His siblings ignored her, aside from Ginny, who would politely start conversations of useless things. Pansy gave the girl some credit, though. It had been five years since they had left Hogwarts, but Pansy knew the petite redhead held a hate for her that no other girl could even think of holding. Maybe it was because Pansy went to Ron after Draco had left her - or maybe it was because Draco had left Ginny to marry her. It wouldn’t matter, anyway, because nothing, as always, went as planned, and Draco found himself again in Ginny Weasley’s arms.
Ron never questioned Pansy’s past lovers - he never questioned what she had done in the war and had never inquired why she had a long, winding scar on her back. He took her for what she was when she had come to him - and this reason alone was what spurred her to love him.
He defended behind closed doors when his family went too far - and sometimes he even thought that she wasn’t listening, but she was. She heard every insult they whispered behind her back and every sneer they tossed her when she let her head down. She knew they would never forgive her for what she had done - for what she was forced to do.
It was the summer of her seventh year when her father urged her to kill one of his companies’ brightest interns. He had told her that the boy was unsuccessful and that he does nothing to help bring galleons in. (“You will do right by me, Pansy,” he had told her. “You will make the family proud.”) Terrified of the darkest man of their time and itching to have her father’s approval, Pansy had done it - not knowing that this boy was a close relative of the Weasleys - not knowing that he was a member of the Order.
“Pansy!” yelled a laughing voice.
Shaking away her thoughts, Pansy looked up and feigned a smile. Ron was currently wrestling with little Geoffrey on the floor, Granger in the middle of them. Unable to see the sight of her lover and his past playing with a child that they could’ve called their own, Pansy glanced away and inhaled. The rest of the family was seated a few feet away, guffawing at something the twins did. She didn’t feel welcome around them, she so usually sat far away, somewhere in the corner. She had pulled up a chair and wrapped herself in the light cloak she had brought. It would always get chilly at night in the summer - she hated it.
Running a hand through her black hair, she jumped slightly when she felt someone standing beside her. Impulsively, she glanced up and shrank back when she spotted the eldest Weasley staring down at her.
She kept quiet and pretended he wasn’t there.
“Do you mind if I sit?” he asked kindly, pointing to the chair in front of her.
She couldn’t remember if she had placed that chair there or not, but she nodded dumbly and ogled at the tall, built man as he made himself comfortable.
Her housemates would cackle if they saw found out how she was acting. Being afraid of the Weasleys? That’s not Parkinson behavior. But, that was back then. The war had changed everything - her views, her morals, and her values. She felt as if someone was always there - always watching her. She was scared of the tiniest things - scared that something so small could hurt her like things had before.
“I wanted to tell you that I was sorry,” he blurted.
Pansy’s breath caught in her throat. What?
The Weasley man ran a hand through his hair - a habit she had gotten from Ron. He must’ve gotten it from this brother. “I was rude and completely out of line these past few weeks. The way I’ve treated you was revolting and I’m sorry I only realized this now.” He stared intently at her. “Ron loves you. That should be reason enough to treat you like a person.”
Speechless, Pansy froze. What?
The Weasley man stood up and held out a hand. “Would you like to help me make oatmeal cookies in the kitchen? They’re Ron’s favorite.”
Gulping, Pansy slowly stood up, too, and placed her small, weathered hand in his. She squeezed his hand and smiled humbly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He led her off the patio and past the table, where the Weasleys sat, all looking a mixture of guilty and bewilderment. Pansy turned her head and caught the wide smile on Ron’s face. He mouthed the words, “I love you”.
Pansy paused for a mere second and mouthed back, “I love you, too.”
And this is how it starts.
Still waiting on a few of the judges to get back to me with the lists. We need to find our FA [featured author] and FAr [featured fanartist] for the site before Indulgence I begins. We're still not as publicized as I wish, but that'll be okay. I can only hope someone spreads the word. ;)
Well, I'm off to write. Alot more prompts to go.