All I Want Is A Room Somewhere, Pansy Parkinson, R, Part One
Title: All I Want Is A Room Somewhere
Author: liseuse
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: R, for swearing.
Warnings: Swearing and a brief scene of violence.
Prompt: #70 - Do what you feel in your heart to be right - for you'll be criticized anyway. You'll be damned if you do, and damned if you don't. -- Eleanor Roosevelt.
Summary: Pansy fights for her place in the war.
Notes: A thousand thank you’s go out to my brilliant beta aunty-marion who saved this story more times than I can count and then came up with a title. Any mistakes left in are mine and mine alone.
It was the 23rd of June when Pansy was finally rounded on by Potter, after a disastrous raid on what was supposed to be a Death Eater safe-house. Potter was convinced that someone had sold them out and all his suspicions had landed on those who had defected from the Death Eaters or old Pureblood families. Pansy found herself standing, back to the kitchen surface, a mug of coffee in her hand and a cigarette burning away in the ashtray on the table as Harry railed at her and accused her or one of her friends, a word he spat out with the venom she associated with her father saying anti-capitalist, of deliberately sending Order members into an unsafe situation and spying on them so that they could sell their secrets to Voldemort and buy their way back into his service.
"Oh for fuck's sake, Potter," Pansy snapped, slamming her mug down so hard beside her that coffee jumped out and splattered onto the floor. "Why in the name of Circe would I sell you out? Do I have to remind you, once again, that I am a member of this shambles of an organisation? That I signed your bloody oath and swore in front of the entire Order that I wouldn't betray you, that I'd rather die than help that group of morons running around the countryside murdering people? Yes, my family is old and Pureblood and probably sympathises more with Voldemort than your incompetent cadre, yes I was in Slytherin, yes I have a sneaky sort of mind and I want to succeed in life. Do pardon me for all that please, but also remember that I am here and that I have been fighting with you and for you for a very long time, that I have the scars to prove it and that I am in no way marked." Holding out her arm, she pulled her sleeve up and thrust it into Harry's face. "See? Or are you so blind that you can't see I'm here to help? Because I don't have to be. I have family in Belgium. I can join them any time I wish. You do not actually have to feel the benefits of my strategies or my ability to complete complicated arithmantical formulas. I can leave again, and send you right back to your pointless little existence which relied on the abilities of Muggle-borns and the black sheep of Pureblood families for all of the above."
"Well, why don't you?" Harry stood, belligerent and stony-faced. "Why are you here in the first place? What made you join us? Not exactly your natural habitat is it?"
"I have explained this to you a thousand times, Potter." Pansy stood a little straighter and walked forwards so that Harry had to back off. "I am here because I have nothing against all the legions of people which make up a very small wizarding community, because I object to that upstart thinking he can rule the world, and because at some point I would like the world to revert to some semblance of normality. I used to have this theory that I would leave school, go and work for the Ministry solving arithmantical problems for them, would have a nice house somewhere, settle down and live a perfectly normal life. And then it all got shot to shit. So I am here, because I like to believe that I can get my dream back. And if it means helping the side of the terminally self-absorbed and dim-witted, well, so be it."
"I still don't trust you." Harry sneered slightly and roughly pulled a chair out from the kitchen table. "However," he grated out, sounding as if he was having his teeth pulled, "you are better at tactics than Hermione."
"I'm glad my abilities are appreciated." Pansy curled half her mouth up in what could loosely have been termed a smile, and grabbing her coffee, pulled another chair out. "Now, can we get back to the business of trying to kill some of these bastards?"
The 27th of January had fallen on a Tuesday the year that Pansy decided that enough was enough and she would give up hiding out in the family home and join the Side of Light, Annoyance and possibly Fluffy Kittens. She hadn't intended to hide out exactly, but a family background of money, privilege and generations of Slytherin sortings had left her a little wary of doing much else. The Wizarding world was attempting to run in some form of normality, but it didn't seem to extend to those who had been friends in school with a Malfoy, a Goyle and a Crabbe - all families known for their allegiances to the darker side of politics. Personally Pansy found it all a little annoying; her family were as pureblood as they came but had declined, politely, any and all invitations to join Voldemort's coterie, preferring profitable alliances with Goblins and the big banking families to petty squabbles over who happened to be best suited to running the world. As her father had once pointed out, a family which maintained ties with the big Muggle private banking institutions was hardly likely to be excruciatingly welcome, though the chance of an excruciating welcome was not to be underestimated. Therefore Pansy, tired with the family home and her mother's insistence on pretending all was normal, carefully packed her belongings, called in a favour from Hestia and apparated to the doorstep of 12 Grimmauld Place. Instantly she could feel the jangling of magic inside the house and what was undoubtedly the alarm system, a system so laughable she had trouble maintaining a straight face as Professor Lupin and a short squat wizard whose nose seemed vaguely familiar appeared, wands drawn and battle faces on.
"Peace. Peace. I come in peace." Pansy attempted not to drawl, and put down her suitcase so she could hold her hands out in front of her. "No weapons, no ulterior motives." Pulling up her sleeves she showed them both her arms. "Not even a Dark Mark."
"Good day, Miss Parkinson." Lupin smiled confusedly. "May I ask what you are doing here?"
"I thought you might need some help, Professor. Circe knows you lot appear to be relying on complete idiots to find targets, and that's taking The Prophet with several thousand grains of salt. How many Purebloods do you have working for you? Exactly?"
"As if we're going to tell you that, missy." The short squat wizard glared at her, and then turned to glare pointedly at Lupin.
"He does have a point, I'm afraid." Remus smiled apologetically. "It would be bad form to give away secrets, after all."
"Then let me guess. There's the endless number of Weasleys, but they're rather the black sheep of that line, which is rather a shame given that the Prewetts used to be a fine family. I assume Susan Bones is helping you. And I suppose Morag might be helping you as well, but her talents rather lie in Ancient Runes." Pansy stood and pretended to think for a while. "Oh, that would rather seem to be it, wouldn't it. Gracious. And how many purebloods do you think the other side has? Because I'd hazard a guess that it's considerably more."
"And?" demanded the short wizard belligerently.
"And," Pansy used the same tone of voice she'd used to use on particularly dim first years, "they all know each other and how their minds work, and all of the locations of various houses. Which rather means that you don't. I thought it might be helpful to have someone who has that information on hand. Think of me as the wizarding Debretts."
"How on earth do you know about Debretts?" Lupin looked a little confused and the short squat wizard continued to look antagonised. "I'd have thought it was rather too Muggle for you."
"Father does business with Coutts. On occasion it required we spent time in Muggle society. Debretts is therefore rather essential." Pansy rolled down her sleeves again. "Now will you run whatever infernal tests you need to and let me in through the door? It is significantly warmer here than at home, but still. London in January is not exactly the best time to be standing on a doorstep. Not to mention that with the suitcase I look like I'm trying to sell you something."
The short wizard turned to Lupin, and tiptoed to whisper something rapidly in his ear. Lupin nodded a few times and murmured something back. After a flurry of whispered comments and a lot of hand waving on the behalf of the squat man Lupin turned back to Pansy. "Well, obviously we can't let you in until we've done the tests. Could you hand over your wand, please?"
"If I must." Pansy flared her nostrils as she took it from its holster. "If you aren't careful with it you'll find out how effective a weapon a stiletto actually is. That wand was handmade in Paris and is exceedingly valuable."
"I will take as much care with it as I would my own," Lupin assured her, and handed it over to the shorter wizard who ran his wand over it, and drew a complicated sigil which began to glow green.
"Rosewood, a spine of maple, and oh, interesting! A thread of bergamot oil. This is a very nice wand, miss."
"Yes, yes. I am fully aware of that." Pansy huffed slightly. "But thank you for saying it. Wand craftsmanship is dying out distressingly. My sister is studying with Gregorovich currently."
"I can't find anything wrong with it, and I'm not detecting any signs of malevolent usage. Just normal household cleaning spells and a few minor stunning spells."
"We have mice at home." Pansy smiled a little apologetically. "It's easier to stun them and let them loose in the woods than it is to kill them and deal with more coming in for retribution. Something about those woods breeds dreadfully intelligent mice. No one wants to go far enough in to find out."
"Oh, the Grass Wood. Glad to see it's still got a reputation. Been years since I was back up there." The squat wizard stuck out his hand and shook Pansy's. "Bracewell. Hodgkiss Bracewell. My grandmother's from roundabouts that area." Seeing Remus's slightly distressed looking face, he added, "Now, now, Remus. This lass is from up round home. The Parkinsons have a decent reputation up there, the wand hasn't been up to anything funny, and she's right, you know. We could do with the help."
"Well, yes. But I'm sure there are other tests we could run." Remus sounded a little strangled.
"Can you think of any?" Bracewell looked enquiringly at Remus who had to shrug his shoulders and raise an eyebrow. "Thought not. This hasn't happened before," he confided to Pansy. "No one's actually come forward and said they wanted to help, most people felt a bit drafted in."
"Well, my best friend is off, presumably in hiding. Teddy has escaped to Switzerland, Circe only knows where Blaise is and Crabbe and Goyle have hideous moving snakes tattoed on their arms and besides that, if I have to spend one more week in the house with my mother pretending everything is fine, my father rabbiting on about how this is all very good for the commodity market and my sister whining about how her wedding might have to be cancelled I may go insane." Pansy smiled tightly and picked up her suitcase. "Now, may I come in?"
Part Two
Author: liseuse
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: R, for swearing.
Warnings: Swearing and a brief scene of violence.
Prompt: #70 - Do what you feel in your heart to be right - for you'll be criticized anyway. You'll be damned if you do, and damned if you don't. -- Eleanor Roosevelt.
Summary: Pansy fights for her place in the war.
Notes: A thousand thank you’s go out to my brilliant beta aunty-marion who saved this story more times than I can count and then came up with a title. Any mistakes left in are mine and mine alone.
It was the 23rd of June when Pansy was finally rounded on by Potter, after a disastrous raid on what was supposed to be a Death Eater safe-house. Potter was convinced that someone had sold them out and all his suspicions had landed on those who had defected from the Death Eaters or old Pureblood families. Pansy found herself standing, back to the kitchen surface, a mug of coffee in her hand and a cigarette burning away in the ashtray on the table as Harry railed at her and accused her or one of her friends, a word he spat out with the venom she associated with her father saying anti-capitalist, of deliberately sending Order members into an unsafe situation and spying on them so that they could sell their secrets to Voldemort and buy their way back into his service.
"Oh for fuck's sake, Potter," Pansy snapped, slamming her mug down so hard beside her that coffee jumped out and splattered onto the floor. "Why in the name of Circe would I sell you out? Do I have to remind you, once again, that I am a member of this shambles of an organisation? That I signed your bloody oath and swore in front of the entire Order that I wouldn't betray you, that I'd rather die than help that group of morons running around the countryside murdering people? Yes, my family is old and Pureblood and probably sympathises more with Voldemort than your incompetent cadre, yes I was in Slytherin, yes I have a sneaky sort of mind and I want to succeed in life. Do pardon me for all that please, but also remember that I am here and that I have been fighting with you and for you for a very long time, that I have the scars to prove it and that I am in no way marked." Holding out her arm, she pulled her sleeve up and thrust it into Harry's face. "See? Or are you so blind that you can't see I'm here to help? Because I don't have to be. I have family in Belgium. I can join them any time I wish. You do not actually have to feel the benefits of my strategies or my ability to complete complicated arithmantical formulas. I can leave again, and send you right back to your pointless little existence which relied on the abilities of Muggle-borns and the black sheep of Pureblood families for all of the above."
"Well, why don't you?" Harry stood, belligerent and stony-faced. "Why are you here in the first place? What made you join us? Not exactly your natural habitat is it?"
"I have explained this to you a thousand times, Potter." Pansy stood a little straighter and walked forwards so that Harry had to back off. "I am here because I have nothing against all the legions of people which make up a very small wizarding community, because I object to that upstart thinking he can rule the world, and because at some point I would like the world to revert to some semblance of normality. I used to have this theory that I would leave school, go and work for the Ministry solving arithmantical problems for them, would have a nice house somewhere, settle down and live a perfectly normal life. And then it all got shot to shit. So I am here, because I like to believe that I can get my dream back. And if it means helping the side of the terminally self-absorbed and dim-witted, well, so be it."
"I still don't trust you." Harry sneered slightly and roughly pulled a chair out from the kitchen table. "However," he grated out, sounding as if he was having his teeth pulled, "you are better at tactics than Hermione."
"I'm glad my abilities are appreciated." Pansy curled half her mouth up in what could loosely have been termed a smile, and grabbing her coffee, pulled another chair out. "Now, can we get back to the business of trying to kill some of these bastards?"
The 27th of January had fallen on a Tuesday the year that Pansy decided that enough was enough and she would give up hiding out in the family home and join the Side of Light, Annoyance and possibly Fluffy Kittens. She hadn't intended to hide out exactly, but a family background of money, privilege and generations of Slytherin sortings had left her a little wary of doing much else. The Wizarding world was attempting to run in some form of normality, but it didn't seem to extend to those who had been friends in school with a Malfoy, a Goyle and a Crabbe - all families known for their allegiances to the darker side of politics. Personally Pansy found it all a little annoying; her family were as pureblood as they came but had declined, politely, any and all invitations to join Voldemort's coterie, preferring profitable alliances with Goblins and the big banking families to petty squabbles over who happened to be best suited to running the world. As her father had once pointed out, a family which maintained ties with the big Muggle private banking institutions was hardly likely to be excruciatingly welcome, though the chance of an excruciating welcome was not to be underestimated. Therefore Pansy, tired with the family home and her mother's insistence on pretending all was normal, carefully packed her belongings, called in a favour from Hestia and apparated to the doorstep of 12 Grimmauld Place. Instantly she could feel the jangling of magic inside the house and what was undoubtedly the alarm system, a system so laughable she had trouble maintaining a straight face as Professor Lupin and a short squat wizard whose nose seemed vaguely familiar appeared, wands drawn and battle faces on.
"Peace. Peace. I come in peace." Pansy attempted not to drawl, and put down her suitcase so she could hold her hands out in front of her. "No weapons, no ulterior motives." Pulling up her sleeves she showed them both her arms. "Not even a Dark Mark."
"Good day, Miss Parkinson." Lupin smiled confusedly. "May I ask what you are doing here?"
"I thought you might need some help, Professor. Circe knows you lot appear to be relying on complete idiots to find targets, and that's taking The Prophet with several thousand grains of salt. How many Purebloods do you have working for you? Exactly?"
"As if we're going to tell you that, missy." The short squat wizard glared at her, and then turned to glare pointedly at Lupin.
"He does have a point, I'm afraid." Remus smiled apologetically. "It would be bad form to give away secrets, after all."
"Then let me guess. There's the endless number of Weasleys, but they're rather the black sheep of that line, which is rather a shame given that the Prewetts used to be a fine family. I assume Susan Bones is helping you. And I suppose Morag might be helping you as well, but her talents rather lie in Ancient Runes." Pansy stood and pretended to think for a while. "Oh, that would rather seem to be it, wouldn't it. Gracious. And how many purebloods do you think the other side has? Because I'd hazard a guess that it's considerably more."
"And?" demanded the short wizard belligerently.
"And," Pansy used the same tone of voice she'd used to use on particularly dim first years, "they all know each other and how their minds work, and all of the locations of various houses. Which rather means that you don't. I thought it might be helpful to have someone who has that information on hand. Think of me as the wizarding Debretts."
"How on earth do you know about Debretts?" Lupin looked a little confused and the short squat wizard continued to look antagonised. "I'd have thought it was rather too Muggle for you."
"Father does business with Coutts. On occasion it required we spent time in Muggle society. Debretts is therefore rather essential." Pansy rolled down her sleeves again. "Now will you run whatever infernal tests you need to and let me in through the door? It is significantly warmer here than at home, but still. London in January is not exactly the best time to be standing on a doorstep. Not to mention that with the suitcase I look like I'm trying to sell you something."
The short wizard turned to Lupin, and tiptoed to whisper something rapidly in his ear. Lupin nodded a few times and murmured something back. After a flurry of whispered comments and a lot of hand waving on the behalf of the squat man Lupin turned back to Pansy. "Well, obviously we can't let you in until we've done the tests. Could you hand over your wand, please?"
"If I must." Pansy flared her nostrils as she took it from its holster. "If you aren't careful with it you'll find out how effective a weapon a stiletto actually is. That wand was handmade in Paris and is exceedingly valuable."
"I will take as much care with it as I would my own," Lupin assured her, and handed it over to the shorter wizard who ran his wand over it, and drew a complicated sigil which began to glow green.
"Rosewood, a spine of maple, and oh, interesting! A thread of bergamot oil. This is a very nice wand, miss."
"Yes, yes. I am fully aware of that." Pansy huffed slightly. "But thank you for saying it. Wand craftsmanship is dying out distressingly. My sister is studying with Gregorovich currently."
"I can't find anything wrong with it, and I'm not detecting any signs of malevolent usage. Just normal household cleaning spells and a few minor stunning spells."
"We have mice at home." Pansy smiled a little apologetically. "It's easier to stun them and let them loose in the woods than it is to kill them and deal with more coming in for retribution. Something about those woods breeds dreadfully intelligent mice. No one wants to go far enough in to find out."
"Oh, the Grass Wood. Glad to see it's still got a reputation. Been years since I was back up there." The squat wizard stuck out his hand and shook Pansy's. "Bracewell. Hodgkiss Bracewell. My grandmother's from roundabouts that area." Seeing Remus's slightly distressed looking face, he added, "Now, now, Remus. This lass is from up round home. The Parkinsons have a decent reputation up there, the wand hasn't been up to anything funny, and she's right, you know. We could do with the help."
"Well, yes. But I'm sure there are other tests we could run." Remus sounded a little strangled.
"Can you think of any?" Bracewell looked enquiringly at Remus who had to shrug his shoulders and raise an eyebrow. "Thought not. This hasn't happened before," he confided to Pansy. "No one's actually come forward and said they wanted to help, most people felt a bit drafted in."
"Well, my best friend is off, presumably in hiding. Teddy has escaped to Switzerland, Circe only knows where Blaise is and Crabbe and Goyle have hideous moving snakes tattoed on their arms and besides that, if I have to spend one more week in the house with my mother pretending everything is fine, my father rabbiting on about how this is all very good for the commodity market and my sister whining about how her wedding might have to be cancelled I may go insane." Pansy smiled tightly and picked up her suitcase. "Now, may I come in?"
Part Two