Pansy Lays Down The Law
Title: Pansy Lays Down The Law
Rating: PG 13
Pairings: Ron/Pansy, Harry/Draco
Word Count: 2,233
Author's notes: Written for hd_pots_n_porn's prompt of Roast Fowl, and dove_drabbles prompt of: Get out there and make your dreams happen.
Summary: Ron's setting up for his date when Harry barges in.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
Ron hummed to himself as he checked on the roast. Yes, that definitely looked better than his last two attempts. The chicken was starting to take on the wonderful, golden brown colour that he remembered from some of his more memorable dinners at the Burrow.
Not a lot of people knew he could cook. Granted, he only did it on special occasions, but Ronald Weasley was no slouch in the kitchen. Mum had taught him well and he could cook circles around his brothers, if he did say so himself.
Still, he couldn’t help being a bit nervous. After all, Pansy did have a taste for the finer things in life. Would Ron’s delicious but ultimately simple dinner suffice in winning her over? What if she wanted crème brûlée or foie gras? Ron didn’t know how to make foie gras. Ron didn’t even know how to say foie gras!
Then, when he had worked himself up into a panicked wreck, his mind would wander back to their first date.
It had taken all of his Gryffindor courage to ask Pansy out to dinner. She had agreed, if only grudgingly, to meet him at some hoity-toity bistro for a quick bite.
To make a long story short, if Ron had ingested the opposite of Felix Felicis, his night couldn’t have been much worse. First, he got held up at the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Then, when he finally left, he ran halfway before realising he had left his wand behind. It was too late to go back for it, so he just kept on walking...and that’s when it started raining.
Pansy of course, had no qualms about letting him know exactly how she felt about being left stranded in the rain, but she did accept his apology. They made it to the bistro, only to be informed by the maitre d’ that ‘Roland Beezey’s’ table had been given away not five minutes ago.
At this point, Ron had all but expected to be smited by a stray bolt of lightning- or perhaps more realistically, Pansy’s wand. To his surprise, she broke down laughing. Then Ron was laughing. And then they were both laughing in the rain like idiots, and the maitre d’ had to make them leave. Finally, they stumbled down Diagon Alley and into the warm, welcoming arms of the Leaky Cauldron and finished the night with fish, greasy chips and a rousing discussion about Quidditch.
Despite being a staunch Puddlemere supporter, Pansy agreed to see him again. She seemed to enjoy herself too. And now that Ron thought about it, his beautiful, sophisticated girlfriend regularly pasted Seamus at the Unofficial Bi-monthly Gryffindor Slytherin Drink-Off and had once won three hundred Galleons from Dean at a game of darts.
Ron grinned fondly. Pansy wouldn’t look down on him for his simple, home cooked meal. She would love it and this night was going to be perfect.
The soft hiss of the fireplace jerked him out of his musings. Ron hurried over with a bright grin, preparing to let Pansy through.
“Oh good, you’re home!”
Ron’s grin faded as Harry’s hopeful face stared at him from the fire. Almost immediately, Ron knew his perfect night was in danger.
“Aww mate, no!” he cried, but Harry was already shifting impatiently.
“Let me through! I need to talk to you right now.”
“But, Harry...”
“Oh, wait! I forgot I’m spelled into your wards. Hang on, I’ll Apparate...”
Ron groaned and swiped a hand over his face. When he looked up again, Harry was already in his flat.
He raised his head and sniffed. “Is that roast chicken?”
“Uh yeah, about that...”
“Awesome! Food!”
Ron watched in horror as Harry barged into his kitchen and grabbed a slice of the rough cut artisan bread, then slathered it with herbed butter.
“So I’ve got it,” Harry informed him around a mouthful.
“Huh?” Ron responded weakly. He watched in despair as Harry nodded stoutly and started on the salad,
“I’ve finally figured out how to ask Draco out,” Harry declared proudly. “This time, it’s going to be perfect!”
Ron whined in dismay and reintroduced his head to the wall. “No,” he moaned. “No no no, not again, no!”
Harry did this every time. He would barge into Ron’s house with some fool idea about how to ask Malfoy out- the last three plans included a hot air balloon, twelve long stem roses and Celestina Warbeck- and then, when he had just about convince Ron to start putting out a fourth plate out at the table from now on...
...he would chicken out.
“Harry, I don’t have time for this tonight!” Ron protested. “Pansy’s coming over in five and...”
“Oh, brilliant! Maybe I can talk her into giving me some pointers! Hey, totally unrelated note, but if you were to whisk Pansy away on a romantic getaway, would you pick Venice or Rome?”
Ron stared at his best friend, for an entire five minutes before deciding that he was not equipped to deal with this.
“Pansy!”
Ron was yelling for help before the Powder hit the Floo. Moments later, Pansy’s face was in the flames...and she didn’t look too happy.
“Hi, love,” she said as soon as she saw Ron, “I’m sorry I’m not there yet. I’m having a bit of a crisis and...”
“Pansy!” someone yelled in the background. “Get off the Floo and listen to me for Salazar’s sake!”
Ron froze as the familiar, snappish tone carried over. He stared at his girlfriend. “Is Malfoy there?”
Pansy rolled her eyes. “Yes,” she sighed. “He does this once a month. He comes up with some hair brained scheme to ask Potter on a date, and then he chickens out! I mean, it was funny at first but really! I...”
Ron’s jaw dropped and he made an indignant squawking noise. “Harry does that to me!” he exclaimed, gesturing frantically.
“What?!”
“He’s here right now!” Ron lamented. “I think he wants to take Malfoy to Venice or something...honestly, I’m scared to ask.”
Pansy’s expression morphed from bewilderment to sheer outrage. “Oh, they are not double teaming us!” she hissed.
“Damn right they are!”
“And on my one month anniversary?!” Pansy shrieked indignantly.
“Harry’s halfway through the dinner I made us,” Ron informed her dolefully.
Pansy’s eyes blazed. “Oh, that is it,” she hissed. “Budge over, love. I’m coming through!”
Ron skittered to the side obligingly, as his girlfriend stormed out of the Floo in a flurry of ash and soot, then marched for the kitchen without another word. He dithered about, wondering if he should follow her. Pansy certainly didn’t need back up but Harry...
“Pansy?” Harry’s pleasantly surprised tone carried over and Ron winced, bracing for impact. “Do you want some...”
THWACK!
“Ow! Bloody hell! Ow ow ow...”
Ron stared in stunned silence, as Pansy regally swept out of the kitchen, head held high and leading Harry by his ear.
“Ow, what the...ow!” Harry yelped, as he limped after her. “Ow ow ow...”
Pansy released him and Harry sprang back, rubbing his abused ear and giving Ron an utterly bewildered look. Ron at least, had the grace to give him a brotherly pat on the shoulder. Pansy, meanwhile, was crouching near the Floo and yelling into it.
“Draco! Front and centre at Ron’s place! Get your arse here right now!”
Ron thought he heard Harry’s breath hitch, but there was no time to respond. Malfoy flooed in two seconds later, and stared at the small company in surprise. It did not escape Ron’s notice that his gaze lingered on Harry a second too long.
“You,” Pansy hissed at Malfoy like an angry cat.
Malfoy’s eyes widened, but he took a prudent step back.
“And you!” Pansy yelled, rounding up on Harry. The colour was high in her cheeks and her long hair was falling in messy waves. Her eyes sparked and Ron thought she looked beautiful.
Harry however, just looked frightened. “What?” he squawked. “What did I do?”
“Why are you yelling at us?” Malfoy demanded, looking equally wounded.
Pansy took a deep, calming breath. Her hands flew up to massage her temples. Honestly, Ron didn’t think it was doing much good. But when Pansy spoke again, her voice was calm and even.
“Have I ever told you two,” she asked, “about my first date with Ron?”
Ron frowned and Harry and Malfoy exchanged unsure glances.
Pansy crossed her arms and told the tale.
“Well, first of all, he didn’t ask me out per se. He just yelled ‘Oi Parkinson! Fancy having dinner with me tomorrow night’ from the other end of the office.”
Ron raised an eyebrow. He had done that. In his defence, he was scared witless of pretty girls at the time. And it got the job done, didn’t it?
“So there I was,” Pansy continued dryly, “with all my co-workers gawking at me. I said yes and hid behind my desk for the rest of the day. That was fun.”
“But,” Harry began, “what does that have to do with...”
“Then,” Pansy cut in firmly, “I spent a miserable thirty minutes in the rain, waiting for Ron to show up. It was so bad even Drying Charms couldn’t keep me warm. By the time he showed up, I was ready to murder someone.”
“And you very nearly did,” Ron added, wincing at the memory of Pansy- wet and seething- yelling at him in the rain.
“My feet were wet,” Pansy countered with a sniff. “You know how I get with cold feet. Anyway, that wasn’t the worst of it. Our table was given away and we lost our reservation. We ended up eating at the Leaky Cauldron. I ate fish and chips for the first time in my life. I won three hundred Galleons at darts. I laughed harder than I’ve ever laughed in my life. And when Ron dropped me home, he kissed me, asked for a second date and I said yes. And well, here we are.”
There was stunned silence. Even Ron didn’t know what to make of Pansy’s little speech.
Harry scratched his head and raised a tentative hand. “And the moral of this story is...?”
“That Weasley sucks?” Draco tried.
“Is that your answer to everything?” Ron demanded irritably. He shook his head and turned to Pansy. “I have to admit, Pans, I don’t get it either.”
Pansy rolled her eyes heavenwards and turned to them again. “The point is that you two could take a leaf out of Ron’s book. He didn’t sit around and wait for the perfect moment or the perfect date or the perfect romantic getaway. He didn’t wait for the stars to line up or for the clock to strike midnight. He asked me out. And now, we’re together and that’s how things happen.”
Oh.
Ron raised an eyebrow at Harry’s expression of dawning comprehension. He glanced at Malfoy instinctively, then immediately ducked his head. Malfoy coughed and looked away. Ron rolled his eyes.
So, here’s what’s going to happen,” Pansy went on. “You two are going to go out, get a nice dinner, take a walk in the moonlight and see what happens. Away from here. And Salazar help me, if you pull this shite on our anniversary or wedding or... whatever, I will hex your bollocks off! Nod if you understand.”
Harry gulped and Draco paled. To their credit, they did nod.
Pansy seemed satisfied. “Thank you,” she said, leading them firmly to the door, "and now, if that’s all, I’d like to get around to my evening. Good night, gentlemen!”
The last thing Ron saw before she slammed the door shut was Harry grinning and reaching for Malfoy’s hand.
“Merlin save me from the clueless dolts!” Pansy exclaimed, flouncing off to the kitchen and grabbing the salad bowl. She scowled darkly and dug a fork in. “Boys, honestly! I’m surprised you manage to dress yourselves every morning without...”
Ron tuned out her ranting. Something she’d said before had stuck with him and he was turning it over in his head, hardly daring to believe it was true. “You said...” Ron paused and cleared his throat, slightly mortified by how squeaky he suddenly sounded. “You said you’d hex them if they wrecked our anniversary. Or...or our wedding.”
Pansy dropped the fork. “I...” she began. Her eyes grew large and darted around the room helplessly. “I...I meant...”
“You think of us getting married?” Ron pressed urgently. He had to know. He had to know if she...
Pansy closed her eyes. “Yes?” she sighed. “Is it such a shock? I mean, I...I do love you. I realise we’re not there yet but...but I’ve known for a while. And I know you probably can’t say it back but that’s fine. I mean, it’s not really but I’m having a great time with you so nothing has to change or...”
“Pansy.”
Her brown eyes were wary and uncertain when they gazed up at him, and Ron’s reassurances and declarations fell by the wayside. He just scooped Pansy up instead, and kissed her fiercely. She squeaked in surprise and he deepened the kiss before pulling away. She looked up at him with a question in her eyes. And for the first time in his life, Ron knew exactly what he wanted to say to a pretty girl.
“You’re moving in with me.”
Rating: PG 13
Pairings: Ron/Pansy, Harry/Draco
Word Count: 2,233
Author's notes: Written for hd_pots_n_porn's prompt of Roast Fowl, and dove_drabbles prompt of: Get out there and make your dreams happen.
Summary: Ron's setting up for his date when Harry barges in.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
Ron hummed to himself as he checked on the roast. Yes, that definitely looked better than his last two attempts. The chicken was starting to take on the wonderful, golden brown colour that he remembered from some of his more memorable dinners at the Burrow.
Not a lot of people knew he could cook. Granted, he only did it on special occasions, but Ronald Weasley was no slouch in the kitchen. Mum had taught him well and he could cook circles around his brothers, if he did say so himself.
Still, he couldn’t help being a bit nervous. After all, Pansy did have a taste for the finer things in life. Would Ron’s delicious but ultimately simple dinner suffice in winning her over? What if she wanted crème brûlée or foie gras? Ron didn’t know how to make foie gras. Ron didn’t even know how to say foie gras!
Then, when he had worked himself up into a panicked wreck, his mind would wander back to their first date.
It had taken all of his Gryffindor courage to ask Pansy out to dinner. She had agreed, if only grudgingly, to meet him at some hoity-toity bistro for a quick bite.
To make a long story short, if Ron had ingested the opposite of Felix Felicis, his night couldn’t have been much worse. First, he got held up at the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Then, when he finally left, he ran halfway before realising he had left his wand behind. It was too late to go back for it, so he just kept on walking...and that’s when it started raining.
Pansy of course, had no qualms about letting him know exactly how she felt about being left stranded in the rain, but she did accept his apology. They made it to the bistro, only to be informed by the maitre d’ that ‘Roland Beezey’s’ table had been given away not five minutes ago.
At this point, Ron had all but expected to be smited by a stray bolt of lightning- or perhaps more realistically, Pansy’s wand. To his surprise, she broke down laughing. Then Ron was laughing. And then they were both laughing in the rain like idiots, and the maitre d’ had to make them leave. Finally, they stumbled down Diagon Alley and into the warm, welcoming arms of the Leaky Cauldron and finished the night with fish, greasy chips and a rousing discussion about Quidditch.
Despite being a staunch Puddlemere supporter, Pansy agreed to see him again. She seemed to enjoy herself too. And now that Ron thought about it, his beautiful, sophisticated girlfriend regularly pasted Seamus at the Unofficial Bi-monthly Gryffindor Slytherin Drink-Off and had once won three hundred Galleons from Dean at a game of darts.
Ron grinned fondly. Pansy wouldn’t look down on him for his simple, home cooked meal. She would love it and this night was going to be perfect.
The soft hiss of the fireplace jerked him out of his musings. Ron hurried over with a bright grin, preparing to let Pansy through.
“Oh good, you’re home!”
Ron’s grin faded as Harry’s hopeful face stared at him from the fire. Almost immediately, Ron knew his perfect night was in danger.
“Aww mate, no!” he cried, but Harry was already shifting impatiently.
“Let me through! I need to talk to you right now.”
“But, Harry...”
“Oh, wait! I forgot I’m spelled into your wards. Hang on, I’ll Apparate...”
Ron groaned and swiped a hand over his face. When he looked up again, Harry was already in his flat.
He raised his head and sniffed. “Is that roast chicken?”
“Uh yeah, about that...”
“Awesome! Food!”
Ron watched in horror as Harry barged into his kitchen and grabbed a slice of the rough cut artisan bread, then slathered it with herbed butter.
“So I’ve got it,” Harry informed him around a mouthful.
“Huh?” Ron responded weakly. He watched in despair as Harry nodded stoutly and started on the salad,
“I’ve finally figured out how to ask Draco out,” Harry declared proudly. “This time, it’s going to be perfect!”
Ron whined in dismay and reintroduced his head to the wall. “No,” he moaned. “No no no, not again, no!”
Harry did this every time. He would barge into Ron’s house with some fool idea about how to ask Malfoy out- the last three plans included a hot air balloon, twelve long stem roses and Celestina Warbeck- and then, when he had just about convince Ron to start putting out a fourth plate out at the table from now on...
...he would chicken out.
“Harry, I don’t have time for this tonight!” Ron protested. “Pansy’s coming over in five and...”
“Oh, brilliant! Maybe I can talk her into giving me some pointers! Hey, totally unrelated note, but if you were to whisk Pansy away on a romantic getaway, would you pick Venice or Rome?”
Ron stared at his best friend, for an entire five minutes before deciding that he was not equipped to deal with this.
“Pansy!”
Ron was yelling for help before the Powder hit the Floo. Moments later, Pansy’s face was in the flames...and she didn’t look too happy.
“Hi, love,” she said as soon as she saw Ron, “I’m sorry I’m not there yet. I’m having a bit of a crisis and...”
“Pansy!” someone yelled in the background. “Get off the Floo and listen to me for Salazar’s sake!”
Ron froze as the familiar, snappish tone carried over. He stared at his girlfriend. “Is Malfoy there?”
Pansy rolled her eyes. “Yes,” she sighed. “He does this once a month. He comes up with some hair brained scheme to ask Potter on a date, and then he chickens out! I mean, it was funny at first but really! I...”
Ron’s jaw dropped and he made an indignant squawking noise. “Harry does that to me!” he exclaimed, gesturing frantically.
“What?!”
“He’s here right now!” Ron lamented. “I think he wants to take Malfoy to Venice or something...honestly, I’m scared to ask.”
Pansy’s expression morphed from bewilderment to sheer outrage. “Oh, they are not double teaming us!” she hissed.
“Damn right they are!”
“And on my one month anniversary?!” Pansy shrieked indignantly.
“Harry’s halfway through the dinner I made us,” Ron informed her dolefully.
Pansy’s eyes blazed. “Oh, that is it,” she hissed. “Budge over, love. I’m coming through!”
Ron skittered to the side obligingly, as his girlfriend stormed out of the Floo in a flurry of ash and soot, then marched for the kitchen without another word. He dithered about, wondering if he should follow her. Pansy certainly didn’t need back up but Harry...
“Pansy?” Harry’s pleasantly surprised tone carried over and Ron winced, bracing for impact. “Do you want some...”
THWACK!
“Ow! Bloody hell! Ow ow ow...”
Ron stared in stunned silence, as Pansy regally swept out of the kitchen, head held high and leading Harry by his ear.
“Ow, what the...ow!” Harry yelped, as he limped after her. “Ow ow ow...”
Pansy released him and Harry sprang back, rubbing his abused ear and giving Ron an utterly bewildered look. Ron at least, had the grace to give him a brotherly pat on the shoulder. Pansy, meanwhile, was crouching near the Floo and yelling into it.
“Draco! Front and centre at Ron’s place! Get your arse here right now!”
Ron thought he heard Harry’s breath hitch, but there was no time to respond. Malfoy flooed in two seconds later, and stared at the small company in surprise. It did not escape Ron’s notice that his gaze lingered on Harry a second too long.
“You,” Pansy hissed at Malfoy like an angry cat.
Malfoy’s eyes widened, but he took a prudent step back.
“And you!” Pansy yelled, rounding up on Harry. The colour was high in her cheeks and her long hair was falling in messy waves. Her eyes sparked and Ron thought she looked beautiful.
Harry however, just looked frightened. “What?” he squawked. “What did I do?”
“Why are you yelling at us?” Malfoy demanded, looking equally wounded.
Pansy took a deep, calming breath. Her hands flew up to massage her temples. Honestly, Ron didn’t think it was doing much good. But when Pansy spoke again, her voice was calm and even.
“Have I ever told you two,” she asked, “about my first date with Ron?”
Ron frowned and Harry and Malfoy exchanged unsure glances.
Pansy crossed her arms and told the tale.
“Well, first of all, he didn’t ask me out per se. He just yelled ‘Oi Parkinson! Fancy having dinner with me tomorrow night’ from the other end of the office.”
Ron raised an eyebrow. He had done that. In his defence, he was scared witless of pretty girls at the time. And it got the job done, didn’t it?
“So there I was,” Pansy continued dryly, “with all my co-workers gawking at me. I said yes and hid behind my desk for the rest of the day. That was fun.”
“But,” Harry began, “what does that have to do with...”
“Then,” Pansy cut in firmly, “I spent a miserable thirty minutes in the rain, waiting for Ron to show up. It was so bad even Drying Charms couldn’t keep me warm. By the time he showed up, I was ready to murder someone.”
“And you very nearly did,” Ron added, wincing at the memory of Pansy- wet and seething- yelling at him in the rain.
“My feet were wet,” Pansy countered with a sniff. “You know how I get with cold feet. Anyway, that wasn’t the worst of it. Our table was given away and we lost our reservation. We ended up eating at the Leaky Cauldron. I ate fish and chips for the first time in my life. I won three hundred Galleons at darts. I laughed harder than I’ve ever laughed in my life. And when Ron dropped me home, he kissed me, asked for a second date and I said yes. And well, here we are.”
There was stunned silence. Even Ron didn’t know what to make of Pansy’s little speech.
Harry scratched his head and raised a tentative hand. “And the moral of this story is...?”
“That Weasley sucks?” Draco tried.
“Is that your answer to everything?” Ron demanded irritably. He shook his head and turned to Pansy. “I have to admit, Pans, I don’t get it either.”
Pansy rolled her eyes heavenwards and turned to them again. “The point is that you two could take a leaf out of Ron’s book. He didn’t sit around and wait for the perfect moment or the perfect date or the perfect romantic getaway. He didn’t wait for the stars to line up or for the clock to strike midnight. He asked me out. And now, we’re together and that’s how things happen.”
Oh.
Ron raised an eyebrow at Harry’s expression of dawning comprehension. He glanced at Malfoy instinctively, then immediately ducked his head. Malfoy coughed and looked away. Ron rolled his eyes.
So, here’s what’s going to happen,” Pansy went on. “You two are going to go out, get a nice dinner, take a walk in the moonlight and see what happens. Away from here. And Salazar help me, if you pull this shite on our anniversary or wedding or... whatever, I will hex your bollocks off! Nod if you understand.”
Harry gulped and Draco paled. To their credit, they did nod.
Pansy seemed satisfied. “Thank you,” she said, leading them firmly to the door, "and now, if that’s all, I’d like to get around to my evening. Good night, gentlemen!”
The last thing Ron saw before she slammed the door shut was Harry grinning and reaching for Malfoy’s hand.
“Merlin save me from the clueless dolts!” Pansy exclaimed, flouncing off to the kitchen and grabbing the salad bowl. She scowled darkly and dug a fork in. “Boys, honestly! I’m surprised you manage to dress yourselves every morning without...”
Ron tuned out her ranting. Something she’d said before had stuck with him and he was turning it over in his head, hardly daring to believe it was true. “You said...” Ron paused and cleared his throat, slightly mortified by how squeaky he suddenly sounded. “You said you’d hex them if they wrecked our anniversary. Or...or our wedding.”
Pansy dropped the fork. “I...” she began. Her eyes grew large and darted around the room helplessly. “I...I meant...”
“You think of us getting married?” Ron pressed urgently. He had to know. He had to know if she...
Pansy closed her eyes. “Yes?” she sighed. “Is it such a shock? I mean, I...I do love you. I realise we’re not there yet but...but I’ve known for a while. And I know you probably can’t say it back but that’s fine. I mean, it’s not really but I’m having a great time with you so nothing has to change or...”
“Pansy.”
Her brown eyes were wary and uncertain when they gazed up at him, and Ron’s reassurances and declarations fell by the wayside. He just scooped Pansy up instead, and kissed her fiercely. She squeaked in surprise and he deepened the kiss before pulling away. She looked up at him with a question in her eyes. And for the first time in his life, Ron knew exactly what he wanted to say to a pretty girl.
“You’re moving in with me.”