Ron/Pansy Drabble Dump
Author: persephone33
Title: Crimson
Words: 405
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Ron had learned how to size people up pretty quickly over the years. He'd found if he watched closely enough, he could see people's personalities display themselves in actual, visible colors. He wasn't sure if it was a real talent, if it was only his inherent magic manifesting, or if the entire business was all in his imagination. In any case, Ron found it dead useful, nonetheless.
Everyone he met was a different hue. Harry was a calm, strong blue. Kingsley was a pure white. Hermione was a rich goldenrod. McMillan was pink, oddly enough.
Ron tried hard not to think about that one.
When Pansy Parkinson was admitted to the Aurors, Ron thought it odd he couldn't see her color clearly. For months, she'd only showed him glimpses of her personality. Pansy barely reacted when he'd openly refused to be paired with her. She merely lifted a perfectly sculpted brow when their superior insisted that his strategic planning prowess and her superior knowledge of curses were needed for a particular case.
It was only after he'd pushed her a bit too far that he'd decided Pansy Parkinson's color was most definitely and without a doubt, a deep, pulsating scarlet.
He'd started by insulting her upbringing, raced past her selfishness and questionable moral compass to verbally attack her personal capacity to have any emotion at all. That seemed to be her breaking point; within a split second, he found himself on his back, the breath leaving his lungs in a rush, with her wand pointed handily at his throat. It was that he saw it; her loss of control showed everything. The color bloomed around her like drops of blood in water, dancing around in swirling patterns, the color a rich, dark red visible only to him.
Pansy sheathed her wand and sat up, not moving from her scandalous position atop him and purred, "Don't presume you know anything about anything, Weasley."
After that, Ron made it his life's mission to see her swirling droplets of color at every given opportunity. Seeing Pansy's vulnerability only made him want to know her more. With every splash of red that he was fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of, he was drawn closer. Ron was hypnotized by her mystery, compelled by her sensual beauty and hopelessly intrigued by the hidden depths of her very person. The crimson was an inescapable magnet, absolutely impossible for him to resist.
Author: persephone33
Title: The Average Wizard
Words: 449
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
The door chimes jingled merrily as Ron sauntered into La Belle Pensée. 'The Beautiful Pansy,' indeed, Ron thought as he rolled his eyes. The posh name of the dress shop, the lavender awnings and banks of purple and yellow pansies outside were a bit much for the average wizard, but many people said Pansy Parkinson, expert dressmaker, was a touch hard to take, as well. Ron was only there at all because his girlfriend asked him, rather persuasively, to give his opinion on her gown for the Ministry Ball.
He sighed deeply. The things he did for love.
And mind-blowing sex. He couldn't forget that.
Hearing voices, Ron stooped slightly, peering between two dress racks to watch the owner and a petite, blonde customer conversing.
"But," the girl hedged, "it's blue."
Pansy nodded once. "It's cerulean."
"Whatever the name of the shade is," the customer pressed. "It's blue."
The girl obviously didn't know the woman to whom she was speaking. Ron watched as Pansy turned, raised an eyebrow and murmured, "Your powers of observation are astounding, Miss Butler. Your gown is, indeed, blue. Well done."
"But blue isn't my color," the girl protested in a whine.
"Isn't it?" Pansy asked, her voice dangerously low.
"No?" The girl sounded unsure, and Ron shook his head, suppressing a chuckle. Rumors ran wild that it was unwise to show weakness to the proprietor of La Belle Pensée. He couldn’t help feeling sorry for the girl.
Not sorry enough to interrupt, though.
"Miss Butler, I, an artist, designed that gown. I chose everything from the opal fasteners to the pin tucks and darts expertly hiding your considerable number of personal flaws. Do you think, even for a moment, I hadn't noticed the Turkish Velvet fabric I chose, was, in fact, blue?"
"I- er," the girl stuttered.
Pansy's wand whipped in a flourish, the dress disappeared and the girl was left standing in her slip. "I suggest that you take some time to think about my artistic talent for matching the color of gown to the witch, and my astoundingly high number of satisfied customers. If you want to choose your color, I suggest Heliotrope's."
Pansy waved her hand. "You are dismissed." The blonde grabbed her robes and dashed from the shop. Then Pansy called, "Ron Weasley, I see you skulking around."
He stood to his full height and shuffled to her desk. "My girlfriend requested I come to see some dresses?"
"Mmm,” she murmured. “And would you like to watch her try them on?" Pansy asked, her mouth curving in a tiny smile.
"God, yes."
As his girlfriend pulled him toward the fitting room, Ron silently thanked Merlin he wasn't the average wizard.
*Winner of Week Three @ ronpansy_ldws*
Author: persephone33
Title: The Backup Plan
Words: 498
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
"I know I don't deserve absolution," Ron began, "and I know that you're angry."
Pansy tossed a wave of hair behind her shoulder, glaring at the man seated next to her. "They'll let anyone in here, won't they?" she murmured haughtily.
"Alright," Ron replied, his mouth set in a line. "I deserved that. But please listen. Please."
"Do you hear something, Draco?" Pansy asked her lunch companion, cocking her head to the side. "It's sort of an irritating buzz."
Draco glanced uncomfortably at Ron, then at Pansy. "Oh, no. Don't drag me into your personal hell. I've enough problems of my own," he said with a roll of his eyes, leaving the table and disappearing behind a bank of impatiens.
Ron took advantage of Pansy's stunned silence in the wake of Draco's departure. "Pans," he implored. "Please."
Pansy glared icily. "As if I could stop you without making a scene," she huffed, pursing her lips in displeasure. "Go on, then. Out with it."
"I was wrong," he said plaintively.
"Oh, I'm aware."
"I know it hurt your feelings when I didn't acknowledge our relationship. It was the Minister, and I... panicked."
"Feelings?" Pansy asked with a snort. "You know I only have two. Lust and Anger. Guess which one I'm feeling now?"
Ron looked hopeful, despite her fierce expression. "I'm guessing it's not the good one?"
She folded her arms across her chest. "And they say you're not smart."
"Pansy," he said gently. "Please forgive me. I was wrong. I admit it. But I adore you. I want to be with you, and I can't let one mistake ruin what could be fantastic for the both of us."
"Oh, for pity's sake, Pans!" Draco's voice rang out from behind the potted plant. "Forgive him so that we can bloody well eat, already."
Ron took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. He smiled when he saw her soften slightly at his touch. "I got you something."
Pansy narrowed her eyes, but the glare was gone. "In case your groveling apology didn't work?" she asked.
"You're the one that taught me to have a backup plan."
"Smart move, Weasley," the potted plant muttered.
Ron opened the small velvet box with an amethyst ring nestled inside. The design was simple but beautiful, and Pansy smiled despite herself. "You really are lucky I'm so full of grace and mercy."
The plant snorted.
Ron dutifully ignored it. "I'm aware."
"And if you ever pretend as if I don't exist again, you'll be begging for more than forgiveness."
"Yeah," Ron agreed, smiling. "I know."
"Why don't you put this on my finger, so we can go somewhere and you can show me how sorry you really are?"
They were gone in a flash and Draco abandoned the safety of the plants for the table, lifting Pansy’s untouched glass of wine to his lips. "Now the veal's gone cold," he muttered. "The arse should have led with the ring."
*Winner of Round One, Week Four @ ronpansy_ldws*
Author: persephone33
Title: Next Time
Words: 514
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None.
Ron frowned at the tie. It was just his luck to come across haphazardly discarded clothing on his rounds to the Astronomy Tower. "Slag," was muttered grumpily as he bent to pick it up.
A jet of red light grazed his cheek, and his hand went for his wand as he spun, but there was already one nestled dangerously against his throat. Unfortunately, there was a very displeased Pansy Parkinson on the other end of it. He gulped.
"Tell me," Pansy said quietly, her voice deceptively calm, "that I didn't just hear what I thought I did."
"Er." Ron was horrified to hear a whimper leave his throat as her wand dug more deeply.
"Can you not even lie properly to save your own skin?" she asked, genuinely puzzled. "What the hell do they teach you in Gryffindor?"
"Honor. Bravery. Moral Fortitude." Ron ground out, schooling his face into a frown.
"God, I might be sick," she replied.
Ron's eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw.
"Oh, I'm sorry, the death glare doesn't work on me," Pansy said conversationally. "It's not your fault, though."
"What?" Ron asked, confused.
"I took an Anti-Weasley Death Glare Potion this morning."
"What are you--" Ron began, and then looked at her more closely. "Are you being funny?"
She sighed, obviously disappointed. "Apparently not." Removing her wand, she said, "I'm not, you know."
Ron was completely off balance in every way possible. She hadn't cursed him, she was joking with him, and she was even trying to have a conversation with him. "You're not... what, Parkinson?" he asked, genuinely puzzled. "Funny?"
"A slag," she answered succinctly.
"Oh." He held out the tie that he still clenched in his fist. "Yours?"
"Yes," she said, taking the accessory and threading it loosely around her collar. "We were only talking up here. Not madly snogging or having honorable, brave, morally fortified sex or whatever you and Granger do."
"Hermione and I don't do... that."
"Well, I'm shocked." Turning professorial, she began, "Now, Weasley, at this point in the conversation, a 'slag,' would offer herself up to you to avoid losing points." Pansy moved closer to Ron. She ran a finger along his tie, looking up at him coyly. "She'd say that you look a bit tense, and perhaps cast some warming and cushioning charms and let you unzip her skirt. Maybe she'd even relieve you of your trousers."
Ron swallowed thickly, glancing at the fastener of her skirt, his hands suddenly reaching out of their own accord.
She stepped back quickly and said, "But as I said before, I am not a slag. Shame, huh?"
"Wicked shame," Ron breathed, his voice cracking.
Pansy's pleased expression was unmistakable and she regarded Ron for a moment. "Maybe the next time you find yourself alone in the Astronomy Tower with me, you'll speak a little more kindly, yes?"
"Uh huh."
"Good." Her smile was genuine, and Pansy sheathed her wand as she sashayed to the stairwell. Before descending, she turned and winked, murmuring words Ron would think about for days after.
"Until next time, then."
Author: persephone33
Title: Fool's Gold
Words: 459
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Ron had known it wouldn't be forever the moment he'd given her the gift.
It was only a tiny antique paperweight, pockmarked but gold. He'd proudly presented it to her only to have Malfoy dismiss it as rubbish. The blond had sneered that it was, "appropriately enough, 'fool's gold,' and worth nothing."
Pansy silenced Malfoy the way she always did, with a raised eyebrow and a glare that would make lesser men quake. Malfoy merely sniffed and sulked. Normally this would have pleased Ron. Instead, the exchange set him into Deep Thoughts, a place he didn't like to visit often, let alone stay.
Their relationship had always been easy. It shouldn't have been, not with their upbringings and the gaping chasm of their finances. But her sense of humor, dark to the point of being caustic, made him laugh. She was beyond beautiful. Her curves made him mad, she'd a mouth he loved to kiss, and he had to admit, he loved when she shut Malfoy up.
Pansy had him wrapped around her perfectly manicured little finger, and Merlin help him, he liked it there.
Their differences were getting increasingly hard to ignore, however. After weeks of stewing about the Paperweight Incident, he decided he had to address the situation.
"Pansy, we need to talk."
"Do we?" she asked, yawning as she turned her back for him to unfasten her dress. "I thought we might have sex and then go to sleep."
Ron's fingers skated across her skin, increasingly tempted. This woman was every man's dream. No, he chided himself, Must see this through.
"As fantastic as that sounds," he hedged, "I've been thinking."
Her lips curved and her fingers trailed along his back. "Always a dangerous business."
"Yeah." His brows pulled together, but he soldiered on. "We're different, you know? And that isn't going to change."
"God, I hope not," she said sleepily. "I rather like our differences. We wouldn't fit together nearly as well without them."
"That's not what I-" he began, and exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Our families. Our jobs. The fact that your best friend is Draco sodding Malfoy, for Merln's sake. I just don't think we're going to be able to hold onto this, Pansy. Not forever."
She stilled, eyes drinking him in. Finally, she said, "Nonsense. You don't know that."
"Pansy-"
"Ronald," she said authoritatively. "Enough. This is about Draco and that gold heart you gave me."
"Fool's gold."
"Appropriately enough, yes."
"Listen, it's one thing for him to say it, but you-"
"Ron," she interrupted. "Draco was absolutely right. I'm a fool for you. Only you. As long as you'll have me."
He blinked.
To hell with the talking, he thought, lips meeting hers. We're both fools.
Author: persephone33
Title: Clichés
Words: 245
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
The situation began as these things usually did for Pansy. There was uncontrollable physical attraction, alcoholic consumption, bad decisions and drunken Apparition. Instead of the typical morning after, however, there was breakfast in bed, quiet conversation and a much needed Hangover potion.
A single night together somehow turned into a week in paradise.
The seventh day, she found herself strolling hand in hand down the beach with him, the water lapping at their toes.
Pansy was disconcerted and suspicious. "It's all sort of a cliché, don't you think?"
"What is?"
"The sunset. The water. You holding my hand..."
Ron brought her fingers to his lips. "You don't like holding hands?"
Truthfully, Pansy hadn't had much experience with hand holding. She shrugged indifferently.
Ron pressed on. "The sunset isn't pretty?"
"Of course. It's beautiful."
"You don't like the sound of the ocean?"
"No, I do."
"Then it's me."
It had always been easy for Pansy to discard lovers. Men were disappointing once you got past the outer wrappings to discover the person underneath. Ron Weasley, however, proved to be different. He was handsome, if unconventionally, but better even than that, he was kind.
Funny.
Smart.
And he talked to her as if he cared about what she had to say.
Suddenly, kissing him seemed the only course of action, as there were no words to explain. She would regret it if she cast him aside.
Pansy then decided that perhaps clichés might be a bit underrated.
