A Move to Remember
Date: Saturday, April 28, 2001
Time: Night
Location: Number 8 Ambrose Terrace, York
Characters Involved: Peregrin Derrick, Pansy Parkinson, invitation only
Rating: PG-13 (for the most part)
( 'It's so great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life.' ~Rita Rudner )
Time: Night
Location: Number 8 Ambrose Terrace, York
Characters Involved: Peregrin Derrick, Pansy Parkinson, invitation only
Rating: PG-13 (for the most part)
( 'It's so great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life.' ~Rita Rudner )
The house Perry had bought for them was lovely - not too big, not too small, all the rooms a decent size. The perfect blank canvas. Unfortunately they were moving in and that was still what it was - a blank canvas. Frightening in the unfulfilled expectation that it embodied. Their boxes and few bits of furniture which had been crammed into Spinner’s End and seemed so numerous -a house of their own just swallowed them up and looked around for more. How would they ever afford to furnish this place?
Perry was being very quiet too. Of course leaving Snape’s house was always going to be more difficult for him than for her. Pansy couldn’t wait to get out and into their own space, but Perry’s surrogate family was there. They were important to him. Still, so was she! He could act a little more enthusiastic how they were finally making this next big step in their relationship-
Pansy was unfolding her dress-robes, carefully wrapped in tissue paper and protective spells, and hanging them in the wardrobe. Absorbed in the task, and in the touch and smell of rich embroidered damasks and silks, she didn’t really hear when Perry spoke. His voice wasn’t very loud anyway and surely she must have misunderstood that- for a minute there it had sounded so much like…
She turned, her green birthday dress hanging over her arms and looked at him. He was still sat on the bed, holding an ornament incongruously as he looked at her and shit, had he really?
“…What?”
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...And hell, he'd just gone ahead and said it. Not like it was completely random, after all, it had been on his mind for a while. Even more so recently, with buying the house, and Charlotte getting married. And Greyback on the loose....
Suddenly Perry didn't trust himself with the ornament he was holding and he gently set it down beside him so he could run a hand through his hair. And then he leaned forward and set his elbows on his knees.
"I was just thinking, since we've... come this far. It just seemed like the next logical step-or," damn, she wasn't going to like that one, "I mean...." Pause. "You did mean 'what' as in, 'what are you talking about,' not because you didn't hear me?"
...Wow, this really wasn't playing out how he had hoped.
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Only the fact that Pansy really did not want this pathetic runt of a proposal to be completely ruined by a huge row kept her flinging down the robes she was holding and demanding to know what the fuck Perry thought he was doing. That and the fact that he was looking pretty thoroughly wretched.
But what the fuck had he been doing? Those kinds of words, they don’t just spring out of your mouth without you thinking about them. Perry must have been considering them for a considerable amount of time before he said them - so he’d debated them for weeks and then decided that this was the best way to pop the question?
She hung the robes over one door of the wardrobe and then sat down on the floor, legs crossed, her chin in her hand. “I meant ‘what’ in every possible meaning of the word - starting with, ‘What did you say again?’ moving on to ‘What do you mean?’ and finishing up with ‘What the fuck were you thinking, asking me like that?’” Pansy regarded him in a measured fashion. “And I’m not even going to touch that ‘logical step’ comment with a barge-pole right now. So thank heavens for small mercies.”
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Was she serious? Did she really want him to repeat it? He wasn't going to.
He sighed, sat up and pushed his hands through his hair. "I wasn't-fuck. I just wanted to talk about it." Is that all right with you, Princess Parkinson?
...Thank goodness he was able to keep that thought to himself. His fingers combed through his hair to the back of his neck where they interlocked, and he glanced away, puzzling out his next words. Now he was wishing he'd just kept his mouth shut. He obviously needed more time to think this through.
"We've bought a house and all...." His gaze fell squarely on her, direct and unblinking. "And you want to stay here, right?"
With me... right?
"So...." And this was really the more important question. "Why not?"
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Of course Pansy had a fairytale ideal of how she wanted her proposal to go. No little girl draped a pillowcase on her head and ‘married’ her favourite teddy bear in the hopes that one day a man would turn to her part-way through unwrapping an ornament and mutter, “Let’s get married.” Christ, it wasn’t even a request. It didn’t even give the option for a beautiful refusal - or a beautiful acceptance. It was either go along for the ride or jump out.
Really, she wasn’t unreasonable. Her entire outlook on life had changed incomprehensibly in the last twelve months. She didn’t expect the kind of upper class arrangement her mother had (attempted to) groom her for. She didn’t want champagne and fireworks and sky-writing - or rather, she wanted it, but in the same way that she might wish on birthday cake candles. What she really wanted was a little romance. Pansy knew that Perry loved her, just as well as she knew that she loved him - would it kill them to say it, once in a while? And this, of all times, he was proposing to her and he missed out the most important part.
She swallowed. “Why not? Do you really think ‘why not’ is a good enough reason to get married?” A pause and then she added, in a harsher tone of voice, “And please, in the name of all that’s holy will you stop asking me if I’m staying! Jesus, how many times Perry, before you believe me? Before you trust me? I’m. Staying.”
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Perry obviously didn't think of marriage the same way she did. He wasn't looking for a fairytale at all; it was a practical thing. Men married to form alliances, to further their social and professional goals-maybe occasionally because you'd taken a liking to a particular girl, and she happened to be of the right lineage. It wasn't a matter of love and loyalty so much as a matter of convenience. No man (no real man, anyway) ever really wanted to get married. Perry would've been perfectly happy for them to just continue their relationship without the fuss of flowery vows and a ceremony.
Except, in some quiet often ignored part of him, the notion of allowing Pansy to waste her life on him without some form of commitment seemed... well, wrong. As a boyfriend, he wanted to take care of her... maybe he'd be able to do a better job of it as a husband.
So what the hell did she mean, asking why he was so quiet all day? Did she think coming to this decision was so easy for him? ...And ugh, why was she asking so many questions?? A hand was in his hair again, not that that was helping his concentration much. DAMMIT, why was she so aggravating?! Twisting his words up, starting fights for no bloody reason....
He sighed and set his elbows on his knees once more, his expression surprisingly bland. "So... is that a yes, or a no? Or how about 'maybe'? Or would you just like to forego a useful response and just keep yelling about what I should be doing?"
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She didn’t want a cold clinical lineage match. She didn’t want a marriage that was ‘a matter of convenience’. And she most definitely did not want Perry to be offering her a proposal of marriage because he felt as though it was somehow his duty, because of what she had given up for him. Because somehow he was failing in what he thought he should be and maybe being her husband would make it easier. As though a marriage certificate would just be piece of paper to paste over the cracks in their relationship. Hell, if he couldn’t even propose to her without it descending into angry farce, how could they expect to have a successful married life?
It wasn’t that Pansy was angry. She wasn’t going to scream and throw things and storm out of the house. It wasn’t even that she felt let down by Perry - once again, he was completely missing the point, and spelling it out for him would make the whole thing moot. She just wished he’d realize, he’d understand, for once, what he needed to do to make it all right.
All it would take was three words.
Instead he leant forward, his face an ugly bland that didn’t suit this conversation and tried to be smart. And now Pansy didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t want to see him lips ruining the fantasy she’d been building for quite some time. Rising from the floor, she recommenced hanging her robes, starting with the green ones that were hung over the door.
“I’ll tell you what, Perry. If you can sidestep all my questions, I can sidestep yours. Not that it was even a bloody question, anyway.”
Pansy could do irritatingly calm, too.
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He'd let down his walls. He'd revealed every detail of his life she could think to ask. He'd allowed her to stay with him through his most vulnerable hours, see him in his weakest moments. All their relationship had been through the past year, all they'd given up for each other, and Pansy didn't feel loved? He wasn't sure what she wanted from him anymore, but it certainly wasn't something as simple as "I love you."
What was this really about, anyway? Why should an actual, earnest answer be that difficult?
He watched her for a moment as she turned away and continued what she was doing. So he followed suit, his voice as unaffected as his expression had been.
"Fine. Probably better to forget I brought it up, anyway." Pansy might be able to play the apathy game... but Perry had a little more experience.
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It was a gift really. How could he exasperate her to the point of tantrum while remaining stonily cool? The longer this conversation continued, the more exaggerated she felt her emotions become. It was like socializing with her mother and deliberately disappointing her, just trying to get a response.
When Perry and Pansy had first started going out, she’d seemed to spend a huge proportion of her time just trying to follow his thought processes, to understand his concerns and his needs and his dreams. A few months ago, she’d felt as though they’d turned a corner - that finally, they knew where they stood. Now, she was back to square one. She didn’t have the first damn clue what Perry thought he was doing here.
Why!? Why would he think, Yes I want to marry her but… hey, let’s ask her this way? To hell with everybody else - to hell with it all. I want to break her heart while I’m doing it! What the fuck was he doing, having a brain hemorrhage?! Sometimes it felt like there were two Perries: the one who held her closely and looked at her as though the rest of the world could be peeled away like orange skin whenever they were together, and the other - this Perry, who wanted to kick her just to see how she would squirm.
Of course she was being overly dramatic, but then hyperbole was Pansy’s daily bread and Perry knew that. And more than that - she was furious. So suddenly and completely, unbelievably furious with the way Perry had allowed himself to utterly ruin what should have been such a precious moment that -
She flung the dress she was holding down on the floor and whirled around to face him, her hair flying into her face. “You know what? I really fucking hate you when you do this! Why does everything have to be so fucking difficult, all the bloody time! I- Christ!” Pansy turned again and headed for the door. “Great first day in the house, Perry- really. Loads of brilliant memories. Thanks a pissing lot.”
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He almost ignored her, or wanted to try, anyway, but Pansy's bloody tantrums always got under his skin. She knew how to pick her words too well... eh, it was just too fitting that they'd mark the first day in their new house with a fight. He missed his opportunity to respond to the rest, but upon realizing where she was going he leapt up to head her off. And immediately he was hit with a sense of deja vu, of having enacted this same motion in a very similar situation not too long ago. That caused him to pause briefly.
He didn't try to get in her way. Instead his hand shot for her arm. "Dammit, if you'd stop turning simple conversations into huge fecking shows maybe things wouldn't be so difficult!"
The sad thing was... he really didn't know what they were fighting about.
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“Do you mind? I was in the middle of storming out.”
Well, this argument was shaping up to be a good one. It had been ages since Perry and Pansy had really let rip and now Pansy could - ugh, she was in control, she was! But barely. He was making this all about her when she was simply an innocent bystander who’d been dragged along. Perry would say that Pansy always blamed him but this time she was right! After all, it wasn’t as though she’d pissed all over what should have been one of the happiest moments of his life now, was it?
“Oh, come off it, Perry! This isn’t a ‘simple conversation’ or it isn’t for any normal person. This is a huge fucking deal so don’t try and pretend like I’m making a fuss over nothing. You just - I still can’t believe you did that!” She paused, to fling her hair back. “Did you mean to ask me to marry you, or were you really going to ask if I fancied putting the kettle on and, you know, the wrong words came out?”
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He loosened his grip... but he didn't let go. You know, just in case she still planned on storming out. Damn right she wasn't going to have the last word.
Indeed, it had been so long since they'd had an actual, all-out row that for a moment he felt completely outside of himself, like he was a spectator watching from the sidelines. But it really was his hand holding her arm, and his temper threatening to flare. In the past, when they first got together, it was easy to get caught up in Pansy's tantrums. Still was, really. But now he found he was better able to think through her outbursts. And the more he actually listened to what she was saying, the more fight drained out of him.
So he wasn't yelling... not loudly, anyway. And he wasn't tightening his grip. He was staring right at her, right into her, and trying to control the beat of his heart, and truly, earnestly trying to understand what the big deal was.
"I told you, I wasn't asking anything, I just wanted to discuss it! So call me a stupid wanker for getting it wrong. But it's not that different from what we're already doing, right?" Slowly his fingers slipped away from her arm, a for a brief moment his eyes seemed lost. "We love each other, we live together, and that's not going to change, right?"
So she kept insisting... but then they always got into pointless arguments like this. "...So why does it matter how I ask-how I say it?"
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“Asking me to marry you is the huge fucking deal!” Pansy shrieked and then took a deep breath. Thank goodness Perry was relinquishing his grip on her arm because the last thing she wanted was to be in close contact with him right now. She might punch him.
While his hand disappeared though, his eyes held her still, glaring at her and it seemed so ridiculous that he could be looking so straight and so hard into her mind and yet still not get it. The flaring anger died down again to just a touch below white-hot and Pansy wasn’t really sure which was worse - the flash in the pan or the slow searing heat. It meant she could consider what he was saying, however, and attempt a reasonable response.
Really, he was missing the point. Yes they lived together; yes they loved each; and yes, getting married wouldn’t change any of that superficially. But it was still an important step! It was saying that in twenty, thirty, forty years time we’ll still be here, having these raging arguments, cursing each other’s existence and cuddling close. It was saying we’ll think of each other before anyone else - we’ll raise children together, we’ll fuck them up together, and we’ll take the blame for it together. It was choosing one future from the myriad available to them at this moment and swearing to stick to it no matter what. No running away - no escape.
And Perry thought it was just… continuing on with what they’d been doing? That nothing would change?
Pansy took another deep breath and finally turned away from Perry. “Fine, you just wanted to discuss it? Then let’s discuss it.” She set down on the edge of the bed and looked up at him. “Yes we live together, and we love each other - but just because those things aren’t going to change, it doesn’t mean everything else will stay the same. Just because you want it to be this simple little thing, it doesn’t mean it is.” One hand twisted into her hair and she sighed and looked away. “I’d be- it’d- my family-” She couldn’t even frame the words but Perry would get the message. “And then, what about our family? Does getting married mean you’d be willing to consider… having kids? And what will your ‘surrogate family’ make of you taking me on?” Pansy looked back at him. “All pretty big questions, yes? So it’s a pretty big fucking deal, wouldn’t you say?”
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He remained standing as she went through the list, his spine going a little rigid when she stumbled. Yeah, he knew what she was trying to say. He slipped his hands into his pockets and looked away briefly, listening while still trying to hold onto his own thoughts. His expression grew more serious, solemn, and it would seem that he really hadn't thought any of this through. No, it wasn't a very simple matter-but then, when had anything about them ever been simple?
He sat down as well, not too close, enough to give Pansy her space and so that he could think without being distracted. "You've already had that fight with your family, didn't you? Did you really walk away from them, intending to go back when you got bored enough?" Said as unaccusingly as he could manage. He rubbed his palms together once or twice, then looked over to her. He couldn't help a small wry grin. "And what do you think they make of me 'taking you on'? If they were going to object, they would've done by now. They know this is... that this isn't just some fling. And it's not about any of them. It's about us."
He leaned closer, but he didn't reach for her... though he considered it for a split second. Even Perry wasn't sure why he was advocating so hard for this. They could just as easily not bother with marriage. It'd be less complicated, they'd have more freedom... and they wouldn't have to deal with the subject of children. He glanced away and his hands seemed to clasp themselves tighter. Did they really dare leash miniature Perries and Pansies on the world? The thought nearly made him grin... nearly.
"I'm... not sure about kids." This was one thing he hadn't allowed himself to think about. But then, that's why they were discussing it. He looked to Pansy once more. "I didn't know you were thinking about it?" Why else would she bring it up?
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Crossing her legs, she turned around so that she was facing him on the bed. Her left hand cupped her chin as she said, faux-lightly, “Well, that was offensive. No, Perry, I did not expect them to take me back with open arms ‘when I got bored’. But you do realize-marrying you, becoming a Derrick. It would be pretty much burning all my bridges at once. And I know they’re soddy and bigoted but they are my parents!” Pansy’s voice was close to cracking and she quickly left that topic and moved on.
And what did she think the Pack thought of Perry ‘taking her on’? Not that they’d seemed very against the idea but there had been some attitude clashing over that Full Moon and there was this weird mentality that somehow she was part of the Pack, because of her relationship with Perry whereas she saw it as the other way round. Their relationship released Perry from his obligations to them, and a marriage would cement that. His loyalties would lie with her and with their family above anyone else. No debate there - it just would.
Should they be thinking about reproducing? Judging on their own interactions, they weren’t likely to have a very peaceful family life. Hell, just the suggestion of it had them at each other’s throat and was this explosive aggression really the atmosphere to bring up children in? …Would it be any worse than growing up in apathetic dislike?
Pansy shrugged again, but more awkwardly. “And I didn’t know you were thinking about marriage. But- doesn’t one kind of, errr, follow on… from the other? And like you said, if we’re going to stay together and everything. Then-”
Her voice trailed off. When had she stopped being angry and started being embarrassed?
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What was he thinking, anyway? Why did he constantly let Pansy drag him into these situations (because it was obviously all her fault)? He let his guard down enough to think that perhaps he could read her, that they could see eye-to-eye on something, only to prove that he was a complete moron. For all her tantrums and emotional outbursts, Pansy always seemed to be more in control.
He dragged a hand through his hair, momentarily lifting the curls from his eyes... but he didn't look at her. "Yeah." The corner of his mouth quirked into a grin briefly and very little sound came out. He was tired of talking. "Yeah, you're right. Forget I said anything." Where'd he leave that decoration he'd been unwrapping?
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