FIC: Sigh No More (2/3) (Seamus Finnigan/Pansy Parkinson)
Title: Sigh No More (2/3)
Author/Artist: kalisgirl
Characters: Pansy, Seamus, OCs
Prompt number: 229
Word Count: 10,100
Rating: PG-13 for language and adult talk
Warnings: None, except for the shameless abuse of Irish brogue
Summary: Pansy's had her heart bruised one too many times, so she decides to move on with her life. But it's hard to move forward with the past staring you in the face.
Disclaimer: Pansy, Seamus and the magical world of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling and others. I just play here to amuse myself and others.
Author’s Notes: When I saw this prompt, I couldn't resist, so big thanks to the prompter - I hope you enjoy the direction I took. Thanks also to those supportive folk who convinced me that I could wrap the story up in three chapters. And finally, thank you thank you to my beta for jumping in on a moment's notice and being so good to me.
Sigh No More - Part Two
Three weeks later, Pansy wasn't any closer to figuring out Finnigan's game. He'd given no hint to her that he remembered her past actions. He'd been nothing but pleasant and helpful. Really, really helpful, in fact. Without him, Pansy would have had a terrible time sorting out the running of the department. Stebbins, the last manager, had left abysmal records, when he'd bothered to write anything down at all. If she hadn't confessed her misery to Jane late into their department pub night at the end of her first week, Pansy would have still been trying to claw her way out of the mess.
"… and when I do find something related to ordering and restocking, it inevitably turns out to be three years out of date and…" Pansy had dropped her head into her hands.
Jane had smiled sympathetically and pushed Pansy's drink closer. "Don't bother with Stebbins' stuff," she'd said. "Seamus practically ran the place the last few years, after the old man rattled his brains loose in that basement explosion."
"Finnigan?" Pansy had groaned. "I have to go to Finnigan?"
"Yeah, to be sure," Jane had said, looking confused. "Seamus knows what's what. And he's great, always ready to help and all. You must remember that from school, yeah?"
Pansy had shaken her head and helped herself to a healthy dose of Firewhiskey. "We weren't in the same house. I didn't really know him. Didn't he tell you?" she had asked nervously.
"Nah, not him," Jane had fiddled with her glass. "He doesn't talk about the past much. We asked him and asked him about you and all he'd say was what you said. Did you two have some grand secret inter-house romance that you'll never speak of again and that's why you won't talk about each other?"
Pansy had stared wide-eyed at Jane, making the girl laugh. Unfortunately, the combination of Jane's far-fetched notions and three and a half Firewhiskeys had set off Pansy's imagination: Finnigan's long, gentle fingers, his bright blue eyes crinkled in a smile, the way her name sounded in his Irish accent. She had changed the subject immediately.
Pansy took Jane's advice and asked Finnigan for help sorting out the running of the department. He had been indispensable in getting her settled in, not just at work but in general. With his guidance, she'd found a flat within a week. It had been bliss to move out of the hotel Draiocht had arranged and unpack her trunks. He'd put her onto the best shops, the best cafes, and the best pub, which happened to be his local.
She was becoming very familiar with the Quill and Quod, as she had been absorbed into the social circle of the Explosives and Corrosives division. Jane had confessed that Finnigan had encouraged them to invite Pansy out that first Friday evening, but after that she'd become part of the usual crowd. Jane had introduced her to a gang of potions makers who'd immediately adopted Pansy as their older sister. Pansy had been a little miffed by that description until Fiona explained that they saw Pansy as "that cool older sister who gets into all the trouble and who you really, really want to be like when you are brave enough to do all that wild stuff."
Pansy wasn't entirely sure that was a compliment, or remotely accurate. She hadn't done anything wild since arriving in Ireland, and she had never thought of herself as being particularly cool. Still, it was flattering to have a crowd of witches and wizards, most of them in their mid-twenties, who were interested in spending time with her. She'd tried to explain it to the gang one night after a wild game of Whiskey-Darts.
"Back in Slytherin, back then, it wasn't about having friends. It was about having connections. And so I was supposed to spend time with the right people, not the fun people." The two former Hufflepuffs exchanged a glance and looked at Pansy with something approaching pity in their eyes. "Don't get me wrong, we were all in on the game… most of us thrived on it, that's why we were sorted there in the first place. But it's a bit different than just going down to the pub to chat and play darts with no agenda in mind."
"Oh, I have an agenda in mind." Patrick waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Fiona smacked his shoulder. "You don't have an agenda, you have a dirty mind and a wandering eye, yeah? Lecher."
Pansy laughed at Patrick's mock-offended expression. "He's a twenty-five year old wizard. Aren't they all like that?"
"To be sure," Jane agreed. "Which is why I wouldn't go near a fella my age for a sack of Galleons. Give me someone older and more steady, like Seamus."
"Oh, Seamus," sighed Siobhan, with a melodramatic swoon. "Janey's been half in love with Seamus for years and he's never even noticed."
"I have not!" Jane said fiercely. "Seamus is like my big brother. He's the best friend a girl could have, because he never puts on the moves or gives you that look that you do, Patrick."
Patrick put up his hands defensively. "Is it my fault all the girls I work with are so gorgeous? A man would have to be blind, or gay, not to look." He paused for a moment. "Think Seamus is gay?"
A chorus of no's dissolved into laughter.
"He is most definitely not gay," Cillian said from his seat beside Pansy. The redheaded wizard was around Pansy's age and a manager at Draiocht. Pansy had been relieved to find out that he had grown up in Canada and knew nothing of her past. Her second pub night he had announced that he was adopting Pansy because she was the only witch at the table whose outfit showed the slightest sense of fashion, and they had been fast friends ever since.
"Just because he doesn't flirt with you doesn't mean he's not gay," Jane pointed out.
"Sure, hen, but he's never flirted with any guy that I've seen, and he notices girls, even if he doesn't drool as much as Patrick does."
"But he never has a girlfriend," Siobhan argued. "At least, he's never brought one out."
"That's because he doesn't date, exactly," Patrick explained. "Haven't you noticed? He's like Rodogan the Romantic, enchanting witch after witch but never for more than a few weeks."
Pansy snorted. "In Slytherin, we called a guy who went through girls like handkerchiefs a man-whore, not romantic."
"But he's not like that. I've watched him in action. He never promises more than a good time, no strings, no lies or games." Patrick was clearly defensive of his idol. "If a girl wants more, he won't even start anything. He's all about not leading them on."
Pansy smiled to herself as the rest of the table continued to debate Finnigan's love-life. It had been two and a half months since she'd broken it off with Marcus and while she had sworn off relationship games, she hadn't turned off her body's needs. Of course, she had never slept with anyone outside of a committed relationship. All this talk of dating, or whatever it was Finnigan did, was reminding her that there were some needs that even good friends didn't fill.
"… there is nothing wrong with sex for sex's sake." Fiona's voice interrupted Pansy's thoughts.
"But it can be so much more when you're in a proper relationship," Cillian argued.
In Pansy's experience, sex had always been about something else. It was one of her strongest bargaining chips for getting her way with men. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy herself in bed, but her focus was usually on taking care of her partner. Perhaps Fiona and Patrick had a good idea there, that the physical connection between two people could be as uncomplicated as a mutual good time. Not that Pansy wanted to rush out and sleep with every man in the pub, but…
"That's Sean." Cillian's voice was quiet in Pansy's ear. "He's easy on the eyes, isn't he?"
Pansy could feel herself blushing and she looked away from the handsome dark-haired man standing with Finnigan by the taps.
"He's a local favourite," Cillian continued, his voice pitched low. "Straight as an arrow, unfortunately, but a proper gentleman."
"That's nice," Pansy replied vaguely. "So where's your fella at?" she asked, trying to change the subject.
"My boyo is on loan to the manufacturing department up in Galway. He'll be back at the end of May, although he might fly down weekend after next if they can spare him." Cillian paused, then grinned wickedly. "But we were talking about Sean. You haven't mentioned pining for anyone back in London, so I'm assuming that you'd be interested in trying out the local talent. From what I hear, Sean's talented."
Pansy's face felt like it was on fire. She sputtered a bit in denial, but finally caved under Cillian's gaze. "Fine. He's pretty. But I'm not interested in dating right now. I've just got out of the latest in a series of disastrous relationships and I need to figure out my life before I end up part of someone else's."
Fiona leaned in. "Ah, finally we get to hear about your past. So, you have terrible taste in men?" she asked, eyes wide. "Me, too."
Everyone at the table laughed.
"She does," Patrick affirmed. "Those guys made me look like Casimir the Charming. They made goblins look gracious. They made trolls look refined. They made…"
"I get the idea," Pansy interrupted, laughing. "I can't say that I ever dated anyone that awful. I just seemed to pick guys who were interested in what I could do for them, not in me."
"That's stupid," Patrick said bluntly. "You're great. If I weren't terrified of you, I'd ask you out."
"If I weren't your boss, you mean."
"No, that's not the problem. There's plenty of intra-office dating at Draiocht. It's that you're ten times classier, prettier, and cooler than I could handle."
Pansy smiled at the flattery and looked down at her drink to hide the tears that were pricking at the corners of her eyes. It was one thing to be friendly with her employees, it was another to be friends with them. These people had welcomed her in to their lives so easily that it amazed her. They seemed to like her on her own merits, nothing more complicated than that, and Pansy was charmed by their open acceptance of her as a co-worker and friend.
"Now look what you've done," Jane chastised Patrick. "You've made her uncomfortable. Learn to think before you blurt out every idea in your head. Raised by wolves, you were."
"No, no," Pansy stepped in before Patrick could respond. "I'm very flattered. I'm just not used to people saying nice things like that out of nowhere, y'know, without some reason behind it."
"Oh, that's not fair." Siobhan's voice was sympathetic. "Does no one in your world say nice things just because they're true?"
"It's not that bad, really," Pansy had to admit. "But after a while you start looking for the hidden meaning in every compliment."
"Blech!" was Fiona's response. "That's a crappy way to live."
"What's a crappy way to live?" Finnigan's voice came from behind Pansy.
"Pansy's been telling us about life in Slytherin, where every nice word is actually code for 'gimme something I want'. Sounds horrible," Fiona explained.
"It does," Finnigan agreed, dropping into the chair next to Jane. "Which is why it's so good that Hogwarts is the past and we're living in the now. Shove over, you lot," he added, gesturing to Pansy and Cillian. "Let Sean have a sit."
As they shuffled down the bench seat, Cillian poked Pansy in the shoulder and eyed Sean suggestively. She jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. He retaliated by tickling her side and she went for his stomach. When they emerged from their giggly tickle war, the whole table was staring at them.
"What?" Cillian demanded. "Just because we're the oldest here doesn't make us the most mature."
"Truer words," Finnigan drawled, "but as managers, we expect you to lead by example. Right now…"
"Get stuffed," Cillian retorted and turned to face the man standing beside Pansy. "Sean, have you met Pansy Parkinson? She's just started at Draiocht this month. She has the thankless task of managing this lot."
"I haven't had the pleasure." Sean's voice was deep, and Pansy felt it rumble through to her core. "Miss Parkinson, I'm so sorry to hear that you have to put up with this bunch day after day. Perhaps I can buy you a drink as a consolation?"
Pansy smiled up into dark brown eyes and felt Cillian's fingers pushing her shoulder. "That would be lovely. And please, call me Pansy." She put her hand into his outstretched hand and let him lead her towards the bar.
~~~<>~~~
Seamus watched in amusement as Sean worked his famous magic on Parkinson. She was practically glowing under the wizard's attention. Sean was a charming bloke, and Parkinson probably needed a little uncomplicated flirtation. He'd watched how she'd reacted to the open acceptance offered by her new friends and had been amazed. It was as if she'd never been given unreserved affection before in her life, and it made Seamus feel sorry for her.
The first few weeks of working with Parkinson had been odd. She had approached him gingerly, as though she was dealing with a rabid Hippogriff. It wasn't until he'd seen her interacting with the team socially that he'd realized that she was only uncomfortable around him. Seamus hadn't needed much reflection to realize why she acted that way, since Parkinson was clearly still trapped by her past. Seamus was sorry to realize that she hadn't moved on in the past dozen years, and he hoped that the new world of Sithean an Banrigh and Draiocht would help her realize that the past should stay with the ghosts, not the living.
At the bar, Sean ran a hand down Parkinson's arm and she leaned towards him. Seamus forced himself to look away.
"Looks like she's found a friend," Cillian said from across the table, nodding towards the bar.
"Sean's a friendly guy," Seamus acknowledged.
"From what she's been saying, I think she could use a friend like that for the moment," Cillian continued. "Someone who makes her feel good about herself, rather than someone who uses her to make him feel good about himself."
Seamus felt a burst of anger at the idea of some wizard using Parkinson that way. Of course, he reasoned to himself, it was because no one should use another person that way. Unfortunately, he could still picture the vulnerability on Parkinson's face from the first time he'd seen her at Draiocht. He'd known then that she'd been afraid of what he might say about their past and she'd assumed that he would use that to hurt her in some way.
"She's got nothing to worry about here," Seamus finally responded. "Sean would never hurt her. He knows I'd curse him senseless, for one thing."
"I'm sure you would." Cillian was smiling. "From the way you were looking at them, I'd say you're a little more protective of our Pansy than you usually are. Which is funny, considering she has years on most of our girls."
"Does she really, though?" Seamus asked, before he could stop himself.
The redhead looked over at the bar, where Pansy was laughing at something Sean had said. "Maybe not. She's got the years, but in a lot of ways, when it comes to dealing with people, she's the youngest one here. From the hints she's dropped I'd say she's never been treated like an adult by anyone she's ever cared for."
"Poor lass." Seamus shook his head.
"Stuff that!" Cillian said fiercely "No pity from you, Seamus. Pansy was brave enough to leave all that behind and start a new life where she knew no one and had nothing. Don't you go treating her like a charity case."
"I wouldn't!"
"You would. You might not want to admit it, but you love taking in broken birdies and fixing them. Look at Janey. Or Patrick. They don't realize how much you've turned them into real functioning grown-ups, when they used to be the most awkward, irritating brats.
"But you can't play around with Pansy, Seamus. She's been a pawn in too many games, tricked by too many people who mattered to her. Be honest with her - that's what will make her happiest."
~~~<>~~~
Seamus had given Cillian's words a lot of thought over the weekend and realized that as much as he didn't want to talk about the past, he probably should clear the air with Pansy. Monday afternoon, after putting in several unproductive hours on his latest project, he decided to stop procrastinating and made his way to Pansy's office.
"Could you spare a moment?" he asked, when she looked up from her desk.
"Of course. Come in." Pansy stood up and walked around the desk. Seamus couldn't help noticing the glow in her cheeks and her smile: it was the first time she'd ever smiled at his arrival.
"Would you like a cuppa?" she asked, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs beside her desk. Seamus shook his head as he sank into the other chair.
"I'm fine, thanks. Look, Pansy…" he stopped, unsure how to start the conversation.
"Yes?" she asked, glancing up from her tea preparations. The look on his face must have been something, because her glow disappeared and her eyes narrowed. Seamus felt terrible for making her worry.
"Um… Okay…" Seamus was at a loss. "Alright. Pansy, we've never talked about Hogwarts."
Pansy froze. Seamus felt his chest tighten as he watched the colour drain from her face. Abruptly, Pansy stood up and crossed to the window.
"I should have known this was coming," she said in a low, angry voice as she stood with her back to Seamus. "What do you want?"
Seamus could only stare at her for a moment.
"Want?" he asked, when he recovered from his surprise. "I don't want anything. Well, no, that's not exactly true."
Pansy laughed roughly, and then turned to face him. "Of course. I knew there was something going on with you - pretending that there was no history between us, that you didn't know exactly what I did back then. So what's the price for your silence? Because if you think I'm going to let you ruin my life here, you're sadly mistaken. I am happy here. Happy. And I don't care what you want, I will do whatever I have to so that I don't lose that."
Seamus felt like the worst kind of bastard. Pansy's colour had returned, as burning crimson streaks on her cheekbones. She was breathing hard and her voice was rough. Worst of all, tears had spilled onto her cheeks but she hadn't made any move to wipe them away. He wanted to comfort her, to wrap his arms around her and rock her, but something told him that if he tried, she would hit him.
"Please, Pansy," he said, trying to choose the right words. "That's not why I'm here. I just came here to tell you that I have no intention of ever talking about the past, your past, our past, with anyone. That's all."
"Really?" Pansy's voice dripped with venom. "And why should I believe that? How do I know that this isn't some trick?"
"Pansy, you know me. What you see is what you get, no games, no tricks. I just wish you would relax around me. Please believe me," he pleaded.
Pansy sighed, but her body didn't relax at all. Seamus watched anxiously as she took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped away her tears.
"I don't know if I believe you," she said finally. "But I'm willing to try. You just have to give me time. I'm not used to trusting men, you see," she said with a sad smile that made Seamus' breath catch.
"Well, not all men are as evolved as the wizards of Sithean an Banrigh," he joked lightly. Pansy huffed a laugh and Seamus smiled. "Pansy, I'm quite serious about this. What happened back then cannot be undone, and yes, we were on different sides, but I've made my peace and I don't have any need to bring the past into our present. I want you to know that I never talk about that time with anyone who wasn't there. You have nothing to worry about."
"I never talk about that time at all," Pansy confessed. She walked back to where Seamus was sitting and picked up her tea. "So much time spent trying to keep the right people happy, and in the end it was all for nothing. Everyone either died or turned coward and ran. I tried to do what they wanted me to do but no matter what, I got it wrong. Even as queen of my little universe, I was so miserable."
Part One | Part Three
Author/Artist: kalisgirl
Characters: Pansy, Seamus, OCs
Prompt number: 229
Word Count: 10,100
Rating: PG-13 for language and adult talk
Warnings: None, except for the shameless abuse of Irish brogue
Summary: Pansy's had her heart bruised one too many times, so she decides to move on with her life. But it's hard to move forward with the past staring you in the face.
Disclaimer: Pansy, Seamus and the magical world of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling and others. I just play here to amuse myself and others.
Author’s Notes: When I saw this prompt, I couldn't resist, so big thanks to the prompter - I hope you enjoy the direction I took. Thanks also to those supportive folk who convinced me that I could wrap the story up in three chapters. And finally, thank you thank you to my beta for jumping in on a moment's notice and being so good to me.
Sigh No More - Part Two
Three weeks later, Pansy wasn't any closer to figuring out Finnigan's game. He'd given no hint to her that he remembered her past actions. He'd been nothing but pleasant and helpful. Really, really helpful, in fact. Without him, Pansy would have had a terrible time sorting out the running of the department. Stebbins, the last manager, had left abysmal records, when he'd bothered to write anything down at all. If she hadn't confessed her misery to Jane late into their department pub night at the end of her first week, Pansy would have still been trying to claw her way out of the mess.
"… and when I do find something related to ordering and restocking, it inevitably turns out to be three years out of date and…" Pansy had dropped her head into her hands.
Jane had smiled sympathetically and pushed Pansy's drink closer. "Don't bother with Stebbins' stuff," she'd said. "Seamus practically ran the place the last few years, after the old man rattled his brains loose in that basement explosion."
"Finnigan?" Pansy had groaned. "I have to go to Finnigan?"
"Yeah, to be sure," Jane had said, looking confused. "Seamus knows what's what. And he's great, always ready to help and all. You must remember that from school, yeah?"
Pansy had shaken her head and helped herself to a healthy dose of Firewhiskey. "We weren't in the same house. I didn't really know him. Didn't he tell you?" she had asked nervously.
"Nah, not him," Jane had fiddled with her glass. "He doesn't talk about the past much. We asked him and asked him about you and all he'd say was what you said. Did you two have some grand secret inter-house romance that you'll never speak of again and that's why you won't talk about each other?"
Pansy had stared wide-eyed at Jane, making the girl laugh. Unfortunately, the combination of Jane's far-fetched notions and three and a half Firewhiskeys had set off Pansy's imagination: Finnigan's long, gentle fingers, his bright blue eyes crinkled in a smile, the way her name sounded in his Irish accent. She had changed the subject immediately.
Pansy took Jane's advice and asked Finnigan for help sorting out the running of the department. He had been indispensable in getting her settled in, not just at work but in general. With his guidance, she'd found a flat within a week. It had been bliss to move out of the hotel Draiocht had arranged and unpack her trunks. He'd put her onto the best shops, the best cafes, and the best pub, which happened to be his local.
She was becoming very familiar with the Quill and Quod, as she had been absorbed into the social circle of the Explosives and Corrosives division. Jane had confessed that Finnigan had encouraged them to invite Pansy out that first Friday evening, but after that she'd become part of the usual crowd. Jane had introduced her to a gang of potions makers who'd immediately adopted Pansy as their older sister. Pansy had been a little miffed by that description until Fiona explained that they saw Pansy as "that cool older sister who gets into all the trouble and who you really, really want to be like when you are brave enough to do all that wild stuff."
Pansy wasn't entirely sure that was a compliment, or remotely accurate. She hadn't done anything wild since arriving in Ireland, and she had never thought of herself as being particularly cool. Still, it was flattering to have a crowd of witches and wizards, most of them in their mid-twenties, who were interested in spending time with her. She'd tried to explain it to the gang one night after a wild game of Whiskey-Darts.
"Back in Slytherin, back then, it wasn't about having friends. It was about having connections. And so I was supposed to spend time with the right people, not the fun people." The two former Hufflepuffs exchanged a glance and looked at Pansy with something approaching pity in their eyes. "Don't get me wrong, we were all in on the game… most of us thrived on it, that's why we were sorted there in the first place. But it's a bit different than just going down to the pub to chat and play darts with no agenda in mind."
"Oh, I have an agenda in mind." Patrick waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Fiona smacked his shoulder. "You don't have an agenda, you have a dirty mind and a wandering eye, yeah? Lecher."
Pansy laughed at Patrick's mock-offended expression. "He's a twenty-five year old wizard. Aren't they all like that?"
"To be sure," Jane agreed. "Which is why I wouldn't go near a fella my age for a sack of Galleons. Give me someone older and more steady, like Seamus."
"Oh, Seamus," sighed Siobhan, with a melodramatic swoon. "Janey's been half in love with Seamus for years and he's never even noticed."
"I have not!" Jane said fiercely. "Seamus is like my big brother. He's the best friend a girl could have, because he never puts on the moves or gives you that look that you do, Patrick."
Patrick put up his hands defensively. "Is it my fault all the girls I work with are so gorgeous? A man would have to be blind, or gay, not to look." He paused for a moment. "Think Seamus is gay?"
A chorus of no's dissolved into laughter.
"He is most definitely not gay," Cillian said from his seat beside Pansy. The redheaded wizard was around Pansy's age and a manager at Draiocht. Pansy had been relieved to find out that he had grown up in Canada and knew nothing of her past. Her second pub night he had announced that he was adopting Pansy because she was the only witch at the table whose outfit showed the slightest sense of fashion, and they had been fast friends ever since.
"Just because he doesn't flirt with you doesn't mean he's not gay," Jane pointed out.
"Sure, hen, but he's never flirted with any guy that I've seen, and he notices girls, even if he doesn't drool as much as Patrick does."
"But he never has a girlfriend," Siobhan argued. "At least, he's never brought one out."
"That's because he doesn't date, exactly," Patrick explained. "Haven't you noticed? He's like Rodogan the Romantic, enchanting witch after witch but never for more than a few weeks."
Pansy snorted. "In Slytherin, we called a guy who went through girls like handkerchiefs a man-whore, not romantic."
"But he's not like that. I've watched him in action. He never promises more than a good time, no strings, no lies or games." Patrick was clearly defensive of his idol. "If a girl wants more, he won't even start anything. He's all about not leading them on."
Pansy smiled to herself as the rest of the table continued to debate Finnigan's love-life. It had been two and a half months since she'd broken it off with Marcus and while she had sworn off relationship games, she hadn't turned off her body's needs. Of course, she had never slept with anyone outside of a committed relationship. All this talk of dating, or whatever it was Finnigan did, was reminding her that there were some needs that even good friends didn't fill.
"… there is nothing wrong with sex for sex's sake." Fiona's voice interrupted Pansy's thoughts.
"But it can be so much more when you're in a proper relationship," Cillian argued.
In Pansy's experience, sex had always been about something else. It was one of her strongest bargaining chips for getting her way with men. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy herself in bed, but her focus was usually on taking care of her partner. Perhaps Fiona and Patrick had a good idea there, that the physical connection between two people could be as uncomplicated as a mutual good time. Not that Pansy wanted to rush out and sleep with every man in the pub, but…
"That's Sean." Cillian's voice was quiet in Pansy's ear. "He's easy on the eyes, isn't he?"
Pansy could feel herself blushing and she looked away from the handsome dark-haired man standing with Finnigan by the taps.
"He's a local favourite," Cillian continued, his voice pitched low. "Straight as an arrow, unfortunately, but a proper gentleman."
"That's nice," Pansy replied vaguely. "So where's your fella at?" she asked, trying to change the subject.
"My boyo is on loan to the manufacturing department up in Galway. He'll be back at the end of May, although he might fly down weekend after next if they can spare him." Cillian paused, then grinned wickedly. "But we were talking about Sean. You haven't mentioned pining for anyone back in London, so I'm assuming that you'd be interested in trying out the local talent. From what I hear, Sean's talented."
Pansy's face felt like it was on fire. She sputtered a bit in denial, but finally caved under Cillian's gaze. "Fine. He's pretty. But I'm not interested in dating right now. I've just got out of the latest in a series of disastrous relationships and I need to figure out my life before I end up part of someone else's."
Fiona leaned in. "Ah, finally we get to hear about your past. So, you have terrible taste in men?" she asked, eyes wide. "Me, too."
Everyone at the table laughed.
"She does," Patrick affirmed. "Those guys made me look like Casimir the Charming. They made goblins look gracious. They made trolls look refined. They made…"
"I get the idea," Pansy interrupted, laughing. "I can't say that I ever dated anyone that awful. I just seemed to pick guys who were interested in what I could do for them, not in me."
"That's stupid," Patrick said bluntly. "You're great. If I weren't terrified of you, I'd ask you out."
"If I weren't your boss, you mean."
"No, that's not the problem. There's plenty of intra-office dating at Draiocht. It's that you're ten times classier, prettier, and cooler than I could handle."
Pansy smiled at the flattery and looked down at her drink to hide the tears that were pricking at the corners of her eyes. It was one thing to be friendly with her employees, it was another to be friends with them. These people had welcomed her in to their lives so easily that it amazed her. They seemed to like her on her own merits, nothing more complicated than that, and Pansy was charmed by their open acceptance of her as a co-worker and friend.
"Now look what you've done," Jane chastised Patrick. "You've made her uncomfortable. Learn to think before you blurt out every idea in your head. Raised by wolves, you were."
"No, no," Pansy stepped in before Patrick could respond. "I'm very flattered. I'm just not used to people saying nice things like that out of nowhere, y'know, without some reason behind it."
"Oh, that's not fair." Siobhan's voice was sympathetic. "Does no one in your world say nice things just because they're true?"
"It's not that bad, really," Pansy had to admit. "But after a while you start looking for the hidden meaning in every compliment."
"Blech!" was Fiona's response. "That's a crappy way to live."
"What's a crappy way to live?" Finnigan's voice came from behind Pansy.
"Pansy's been telling us about life in Slytherin, where every nice word is actually code for 'gimme something I want'. Sounds horrible," Fiona explained.
"It does," Finnigan agreed, dropping into the chair next to Jane. "Which is why it's so good that Hogwarts is the past and we're living in the now. Shove over, you lot," he added, gesturing to Pansy and Cillian. "Let Sean have a sit."
As they shuffled down the bench seat, Cillian poked Pansy in the shoulder and eyed Sean suggestively. She jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. He retaliated by tickling her side and she went for his stomach. When they emerged from their giggly tickle war, the whole table was staring at them.
"What?" Cillian demanded. "Just because we're the oldest here doesn't make us the most mature."
"Truer words," Finnigan drawled, "but as managers, we expect you to lead by example. Right now…"
"Get stuffed," Cillian retorted and turned to face the man standing beside Pansy. "Sean, have you met Pansy Parkinson? She's just started at Draiocht this month. She has the thankless task of managing this lot."
"I haven't had the pleasure." Sean's voice was deep, and Pansy felt it rumble through to her core. "Miss Parkinson, I'm so sorry to hear that you have to put up with this bunch day after day. Perhaps I can buy you a drink as a consolation?"
Pansy smiled up into dark brown eyes and felt Cillian's fingers pushing her shoulder. "That would be lovely. And please, call me Pansy." She put her hand into his outstretched hand and let him lead her towards the bar.
~~~<>~~~
Seamus watched in amusement as Sean worked his famous magic on Parkinson. She was practically glowing under the wizard's attention. Sean was a charming bloke, and Parkinson probably needed a little uncomplicated flirtation. He'd watched how she'd reacted to the open acceptance offered by her new friends and had been amazed. It was as if she'd never been given unreserved affection before in her life, and it made Seamus feel sorry for her.
The first few weeks of working with Parkinson had been odd. She had approached him gingerly, as though she was dealing with a rabid Hippogriff. It wasn't until he'd seen her interacting with the team socially that he'd realized that she was only uncomfortable around him. Seamus hadn't needed much reflection to realize why she acted that way, since Parkinson was clearly still trapped by her past. Seamus was sorry to realize that she hadn't moved on in the past dozen years, and he hoped that the new world of Sithean an Banrigh and Draiocht would help her realize that the past should stay with the ghosts, not the living.
At the bar, Sean ran a hand down Parkinson's arm and she leaned towards him. Seamus forced himself to look away.
"Looks like she's found a friend," Cillian said from across the table, nodding towards the bar.
"Sean's a friendly guy," Seamus acknowledged.
"From what she's been saying, I think she could use a friend like that for the moment," Cillian continued. "Someone who makes her feel good about herself, rather than someone who uses her to make him feel good about himself."
Seamus felt a burst of anger at the idea of some wizard using Parkinson that way. Of course, he reasoned to himself, it was because no one should use another person that way. Unfortunately, he could still picture the vulnerability on Parkinson's face from the first time he'd seen her at Draiocht. He'd known then that she'd been afraid of what he might say about their past and she'd assumed that he would use that to hurt her in some way.
"She's got nothing to worry about here," Seamus finally responded. "Sean would never hurt her. He knows I'd curse him senseless, for one thing."
"I'm sure you would." Cillian was smiling. "From the way you were looking at them, I'd say you're a little more protective of our Pansy than you usually are. Which is funny, considering she has years on most of our girls."
"Does she really, though?" Seamus asked, before he could stop himself.
The redhead looked over at the bar, where Pansy was laughing at something Sean had said. "Maybe not. She's got the years, but in a lot of ways, when it comes to dealing with people, she's the youngest one here. From the hints she's dropped I'd say she's never been treated like an adult by anyone she's ever cared for."
"Poor lass." Seamus shook his head.
"Stuff that!" Cillian said fiercely "No pity from you, Seamus. Pansy was brave enough to leave all that behind and start a new life where she knew no one and had nothing. Don't you go treating her like a charity case."
"I wouldn't!"
"You would. You might not want to admit it, but you love taking in broken birdies and fixing them. Look at Janey. Or Patrick. They don't realize how much you've turned them into real functioning grown-ups, when they used to be the most awkward, irritating brats.
"But you can't play around with Pansy, Seamus. She's been a pawn in too many games, tricked by too many people who mattered to her. Be honest with her - that's what will make her happiest."
~~~<>~~~
Seamus had given Cillian's words a lot of thought over the weekend and realized that as much as he didn't want to talk about the past, he probably should clear the air with Pansy. Monday afternoon, after putting in several unproductive hours on his latest project, he decided to stop procrastinating and made his way to Pansy's office.
"Could you spare a moment?" he asked, when she looked up from her desk.
"Of course. Come in." Pansy stood up and walked around the desk. Seamus couldn't help noticing the glow in her cheeks and her smile: it was the first time she'd ever smiled at his arrival.
"Would you like a cuppa?" she asked, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs beside her desk. Seamus shook his head as he sank into the other chair.
"I'm fine, thanks. Look, Pansy…" he stopped, unsure how to start the conversation.
"Yes?" she asked, glancing up from her tea preparations. The look on his face must have been something, because her glow disappeared and her eyes narrowed. Seamus felt terrible for making her worry.
"Um… Okay…" Seamus was at a loss. "Alright. Pansy, we've never talked about Hogwarts."
Pansy froze. Seamus felt his chest tighten as he watched the colour drain from her face. Abruptly, Pansy stood up and crossed to the window.
"I should have known this was coming," she said in a low, angry voice as she stood with her back to Seamus. "What do you want?"
Seamus could only stare at her for a moment.
"Want?" he asked, when he recovered from his surprise. "I don't want anything. Well, no, that's not exactly true."
Pansy laughed roughly, and then turned to face him. "Of course. I knew there was something going on with you - pretending that there was no history between us, that you didn't know exactly what I did back then. So what's the price for your silence? Because if you think I'm going to let you ruin my life here, you're sadly mistaken. I am happy here. Happy. And I don't care what you want, I will do whatever I have to so that I don't lose that."
Seamus felt like the worst kind of bastard. Pansy's colour had returned, as burning crimson streaks on her cheekbones. She was breathing hard and her voice was rough. Worst of all, tears had spilled onto her cheeks but she hadn't made any move to wipe them away. He wanted to comfort her, to wrap his arms around her and rock her, but something told him that if he tried, she would hit him.
"Please, Pansy," he said, trying to choose the right words. "That's not why I'm here. I just came here to tell you that I have no intention of ever talking about the past, your past, our past, with anyone. That's all."
"Really?" Pansy's voice dripped with venom. "And why should I believe that? How do I know that this isn't some trick?"
"Pansy, you know me. What you see is what you get, no games, no tricks. I just wish you would relax around me. Please believe me," he pleaded.
Pansy sighed, but her body didn't relax at all. Seamus watched anxiously as she took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped away her tears.
"I don't know if I believe you," she said finally. "But I'm willing to try. You just have to give me time. I'm not used to trusting men, you see," she said with a sad smile that made Seamus' breath catch.
"Well, not all men are as evolved as the wizards of Sithean an Banrigh," he joked lightly. Pansy huffed a laugh and Seamus smiled. "Pansy, I'm quite serious about this. What happened back then cannot be undone, and yes, we were on different sides, but I've made my peace and I don't have any need to bring the past into our present. I want you to know that I never talk about that time with anyone who wasn't there. You have nothing to worry about."
"I never talk about that time at all," Pansy confessed. She walked back to where Seamus was sitting and picked up her tea. "So much time spent trying to keep the right people happy, and in the end it was all for nothing. Everyone either died or turned coward and ran. I tried to do what they wanted me to do but no matter what, I got it wrong. Even as queen of my little universe, I was so miserable."
Part One | Part Three