Fic: And Now, the Rest of the Story by divagonzo1
Title: And Now, the Rest of the Story
Username: divagonzo1
Pairing: Dolohov/Pansy
Type: Het/Gen
Prompt: #81 - Pansy doesn’t care that she’s a girl; she wants to fight. Antonin seems to be the only one who understands that.
Rating: R
Word Count: 8,144
Warnings/content: abuse, language, non-graphic references to sex
Summary: Pansy is home after the Battle of Hogwarts but learns so much more about the man who she called her Mentor - Antonin Dolohov. She learns there is more to the man than she originally knew and appreciated
Notes: I had so much fun exploring this dynamic along with fleshing out one of the primary bad guys in my fanfiction world. Thanks for offering this prompt. My thanks to Becca - my beta and host for the festival - for helping out so much on this piece. She does make me look and sound like a better writer. Quotes borrowed and returned from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows, American Edition, page 610 (2007).
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters/references are property of JK Rowling and associates. No copyright infringement is intended.
And Now, the Rest of the Story
Pansy ran. Mold and mortar dust coated her robes while she ran the ancient escape tunnels from the castle. Nothing mattered except getting away. She didn’t want to get caught in the castle when the siege started. Nothing on the Hogwarts grounds interested her in the least. All that mattered now was getting home.
A decrepit oak door barred her path but only for an instant. One quick spell and she was through, racing the last distance to the basement of the train depot in Hogsmeade. Freedom, finally!
She took three steps off of the platform and apparated away from the chaos and mayhem in the town.
-----
Pansy stood in the doorway looking at the redhead in the bed. He might not have been the Weasley she originally desired but he placated her completely. She knew what was coming this morning and unlike the rest that she associated with, she wouldn’t run. Draco? That prat wouldn’t help now. The family solicitor informed her of that, penning the crumpled parchment that lay at the bottom of her travel bag. He had turned traitor to the cause, selling them all out to save his sorry arse. She understood. Given the same choice now, she would have done the same. A second enclosed note from a friend in the Ministry informed her of the happenings in London this week.
She'd heard the rumors, spoken in hushed whispers at the Estate. Her first mentor was dead. Potter mentioned that in the Great Hall. Tears for Professor Snape were shed in private. Only Millicent and Daphne knew how much of an influence Severus was on her life. Oh, nothing so crude as a physical pleasures. Her mentor taught her how to use logic and rhetoric to influence. The subtlety of linguistics and cultural significance of words would help her later on tread in the footsteps of her father.
The note and request from the solicitor also confirmed her worst fears: her mother was missing and presumed to be dead. He had no information about her father. He was feared dead, too. Pansy dreaded confirmation since she hadn’t spoken to him in days, either by Floo or by Owl Post. That would be the only reason that Mackinzie Stokley would be coming to see her in person at her estates later this morning rather than have her call upon him in London.
Stokley had sent a courier with her vital documents yesterday morning. To most people they were gibberish. Gibberish that was important to the Parkinson family. But he had other business to discuss, business that required signatures of ownership and partnership to address.
The Aurors calling later this morning were another matter. Their arrival so shortly after the events at Hogwarts troubled her. Could they have learned of her involvement at Malfoy Manor over the Christmas holidays? Could have they been informed of what happened at Draco’s estates before Potter and pals were brought in?
Her other mentor told her to do her duty while he went abroad into hiding. Bide your time, endure no matter what happens, and await my return. He had been strong and taught her much in the last three years. The year he was incarcerated at Azkaban did nothing to diminish his quest for following the Dark Lord’s wishes. His hand upon hers - strong, calloused, dirty - was all that he left behind.
She left a note for the Weasley in the bed thanking him for the temporary affection and attention he showed her last night and this morning. She previously reserved pleasure for the git known as Draco Malfoy. Sticky fumblings early on grew into torrid pleasure as they came to know one another. In comparison to the night before, Draco was a boy only intent on his desires. The shagging from the elder Weasley was astounding and also taught her what she had been missing. It would have to do once she walked out of this hovel of a room. It’s not like she had a desire to discuss her peccadillos with anyone else now. Bulstrode would castigate her, and Daphne Greengrass would only ask if he was a good fuck. Silly strumpet. She had a lifetime of wealth and humiliation awaiting her nuptuals to Theo Nott. Poor Millicent didn’t even have that. Her betrothal to Crabbe went up in flames upon the death of Crabbe Sr. and then Junior.
She stepped out and closed it quietly behind her. Only candlelight from the scones on the wall told her the time. It was early and no one was around to see her leave. Down the stairs she went to Floo home to her property north of Cambridge.
-----
An hour later, and a welcome shower with a change of attire into proper robes, gave her time to read across the documents on the table in her study. Her solicitor was due shortly and she hoped his arrival would answer some burning questions she had for him.
Her house elf Ezzy came into the library, draped in livery. "Mistress Pansy, the Solicitor is here."
"Show him in and have a tea service ready in fifteen minutes."
"Gladly, Mistress."
"Ezzy?"
"Yes, Mistress?"
"I’m expecting Aurors to arrive within the hour. Please show them to the drawing room and make them comfortable. Solicitor Stokley and I have delicate business to attend to so I don’t want to be disturbed except in an emergency."
"Gladly, Mistress."
Pansy looked down at the unbound documents on the writing desk. She spent enough time with her father to understand the parcel before her - and the information within the papers. She was, for all intents and purposes, the mistress of the Manor. She had been named executor of the estates and owner of the vaults at Gringott’s as of last week.
It might be enough to buy her way out of a longer stint in Azkaban.
"Solicitor Stokley," Ezzy squeaked from the doorway.
Pansy rose from her chair by the fire, projecting greeting for her first guest. "Please, come in, be seated. Tea will be served in a minute."
-----
Pansy sat in the large leather wingback that was her father’s chair. A small table next to the chair bore the various documents that needed signing. They could wait, but the ledger in front of her was her primary interest. Her solicitor - he was in her father’s private solicitor as opposed to the one on staff at the Daily Prophet - was dutiful to bring it along with the other vital papers. Inside the ledger were the actual figures for the publishing house that ran the Daily Prophet. She was fortunate that it was turned over to her since many in the Wizengamot would give up their wand for what the ledger contained. She figured that most couldn’t decipher her father’s ledger. Few in the Wizarding world knew how to read the Middle English cipher her father used as the script. To her trained eyes it was plain print.
While she read the pages, her solicitor droned upon the news he brought. As she had had already been told, her mother was dead. She was left on the steps of the Daily Prophet the day before the fighting started at Hogwarts. Alistair Parkinson left immediately once his wife’s remains were discovered. He fled and hadn’t been seen since.
Pansy expected as much. Her father was in a precarious position. He was a Pureblood but also in charge of the Prophet. He had a duty to perform but not at the expense of his family’s good name nor their estates nor their lives.
-----
"So that wraps up our current business. Are there any questions you have of me before I return to London this morning?"
Pansy was nose deep in the ledger before her. There were hundreds of pages of numbers along with notations on each line. Her father was notorious for being frugal but her respect for him multiplied with how diligent he was in documenting each transaction he facilitated. She could sink half of Wizarding England if this journal was made available to the Wizengamot. From what she could tell scanning the pages before her, the only family that was clean as a whistle was the Weasley clan. Bugger their nobility. Well, most of them.
"Thank you Father," she whispered aloud, if only to herself.
She waved her hand at the Solicitor while she found one note the lynchpin to what she needed. She knew he made a notation to which book in the library was the safe. Now she had the location and information needed to secure her place.
Pansy looked up from the ledger. "No, this is more than satisfactory this morning. If I have any further questions I will call upon you in London. I have business there later today anyway." She sighed. "I have to attend to my mother’s arrangements in London."
Mackenzie Stokley stood before his new client and took her hand in thanks. "If I hear anything in regards to your father I shall let you know straight away."
Pansy sighed. "I hope you do, but after everything this past year, I doubt you will. He’s never away from his desk more than a couple of days without telling someone. I honestly expect bad news shortly. He was a businessman and a pureblood. He was also a public figure and a man of standing in polite society. I’m sure that is why the Aurors are coming shortly. He’s been gone a week. They’re probably coming to tell me he’s dead."
"Shall I stay with you then? If they are calling, you might need my advice if they bring terrible news."
Ezzy stepped into the study and stood quietly by the door.
"It seems that you won’t have to wait Counselor. My second guests are already here." Pansy turned and addressed her elf, asking her to bring the Aurors into the study. The elf scurried from the room.
"Now let’s see what bad news the Aurors are bringing me this morning."
-----
"Mistress, Aurors Williamson and Jones."
Ezzy departed quickly while the two Aurors stepped into the study. Hestia Jones looked less like an Auror and more like a frumpy escort. Her robes were rumpled, her bun falling apart and her boots soiled with something that looked like dirt. The other Auror - Williamson - looked as haggard as the young woman did.
"Aurors, may I present my Solicitor, Mackenzie Stokley, Esquire, of Stokley and Associates."
Two nods from the Aurors were all she was going to receive in pleasantries from them. "What do I owe the pleasure of this morning’s visit?"
"Ms. Parkinson, we don’t want much of your time for now but we have a few questions in regards to your association with Antonin Dolohov. Do you know where he is?"
Pansy saw her solicitor nod in approval. "I’ve not seen the man in question for a week. The last time I saw him was the evening after the battle at Hogwarts. I was home when he barged in. He was here maybe a minute before disapparating."
"Did he say anything to you the last time you saw him?"
Pansy glanced a nod again. "He told me to bide my time, endure what comes, and await his return."
Auror Williamson was frantically writing everything she said down. "That’s all he said?"
Pansy nodded in affirmation. "I think he was in a bit of a hurry to escape that evening. I can’t imagine why since the Dark Lord was dead along with Bellatrix. I can’t fathom why the second in command wanted to run instead of standing and fighting."
"Why did he return here? We were told Malfoy Manor was where You-Know-Who was residing there."
"I think my client has -"
"No, Stokley. It’s fine. They would find out anyway. My embarrassment here at home, in private, would be preferable than having it found out under questioning at the Ministry. I can cope with some personal humiliation."
Pansy looked at her hand, hands holding her wand. She laid it down on the side table, refusing the temptation that it would offer.
"Dolohov was staying here instead of the estates of the Malfoy family. He said he preferred the quiet here, away from the screams of the prisoners, than dealing with the machinations that the Dark Lord was contriving. He also couldn’t stand when the Carrows were present, stupid pigs."
"And your father?"
"My father was amenable to this arrangement. Dolohov was quiet, kept to his rooms when he wasn’t out on business, and he was pleasant company. Father was comfortable with Dolohov staying here during the week when he was busy working in London. He was also my mentor, my teacher away from Hogwarts. I might have learned as much from him as Professor Snape."
Pansy looked down at her hands again to see they were fiddling with her wand. She put it back on the side table before waiting for Auror Williamson to finish furiously inscribing on the parchment in his hands. Auror Jones on the other hand was studying her. "Was that all there was with him, Ms. Parkinson? Was he anything more than just a mentor? Was he a paramour?"
"Uh, no. He’s so old, Auror Jones - and the implications are revolting. Antonin Dolohov was not a paramour or suitor for my hand. My father had me betrothed to Draco Malfoy when I turned eleven. Once I turned 16, I spent many a pleasant hour in Draco’s company. Things changed between us before the Easter holidays and we quickly grew apart."
Pansy blushed in remembering why their contract was dissolved. "Dolohov and I were summoned to Malfoy Manor at the end of the Easter Holiday. Xenophilius Lovegood was brought back in and according to Bellatrix Lestrange, he was to be questioned further after Potter, Granger, and Weasley escaped. While we were there, Dolohov and I suffered his wrath too."
Auror Jones hardened her look. "Well?"
"Pansy, you don’t have to speak further," said counselor Stokley at her side.
"Yes, I do, if anything, for absolution and explanation for what happened. I’m not afraid of it. I rather get the facts out now rather than later at the Wizengamot. You can deal with those sods. Then again, being under a threat of death - along with my father and mother - should suffice in some leniency. My mother’s death proved how true and accurate that assumption was."
Pansy turned back to the Aurors before her. "Please, sit. We’re going to be here a while for me to explain everything going on."
-----
Pansy stood at the doorway to the dungeons. The rank smell was overwhelming. Unlike Professor’s Snape’s classroom, this one was unkempt and disgusting. Only the elderly man in rags in the corner broke the appearance. He was shackled to the wall while another "guest" was upstairs.
"Why am I still alive," asked a creaky voice chained on the wall.
"I don’t know Mr. Ollivander."
"Why do you stand there silent? I thought you’d taunt like the rest."
"I’m here because my mentor is and he’s upstairs. I don’t want to see him work over another prisoner. It’s too much."
"Is it? Have you sunk in too far to escape, too?"
Just then Pansy was shoved aside and a flying mop of blonde fell onto the stone floor.
"It seems that the ‘claws can’t soar now, can they Pansy?" The sibilant voice echoed in her ears behind her. "Cage a claw, pluck their wings, break them, and they will turn to vicious snakes. Come dear. You have work to do and lessons to learn. Don’t mind the bint in the basement. She’s not here to inform, only insure."
Pansy looked closer and saw a butterbeer cap necklace tangled in her stringy platinum blonde hair.
She followed the mistress before her as she ascended the stairs to her task at hand.
-----
Pansy had her wand pointed at the wizard on the ground. Harsh words whispered in her ear, from Thorfinn of all people focused her attention on the derelict before her. She motioned her wand and he writhed on the ground, howling in agony. She had to mean it, the power behind the curse. The threat whispered in her ear was enough to focus her frustrations on the competitor before her.
"Enough," hissed the voice from earlier.
She watched as the father of the prisoner was hoisted on his feet. Coarse words were spoken, warnings given, instructions issued. He was cursed yet again, given a final instruction before being whisked away to his residence in Devon.
"You need practice Pansy. Your wandwork is sloppy. Draco did better when he was an ickle firstie. Here, let me demonstrate. Crucio!"
Pansy fell to the floor in agony, writhing under the mistress curse. An eternity later the pain stopped.
Pansy rolled on the marble of the drawing room trying to catch her breath. She heard laughter then a thud in the corner. She opened her eyes on her mentor and saw the hulking blond stunned at his feet.
"Next time you will do better, silly girl!" sneered Bellatrix. The prodigious witch turned heel and stalked out of the drawing room.
Pansy turned her watery eyes on her mentor in the corner. He was sitting watching everything stoically. A small nod of his head and she scrambled to her feet to receive his tutelage. His attire was businesslike: closely shorn salt and pepper hair along with stylishly cut dark robes.
"Bellatrix is all about flourish. Rubbish. But she shouldn’t have turned her wand on you. I will deal with her shortly. It won’t be pleasant. Lovegood got the point, regardless of you losing focus at the end. There’s always a reticence in cursing another pureblood. No matter."
Pansy stood before her mentor shaking, a side effect of the curse. "But what has he done?"
"Nothing yet but I’m betting he will. He’s the trap for Potter. You close enough avenues of opportunity and the prey will come. It’s only a question of time. Lovegood will sell out Potter if he wants his daughter back."
"But keeping her here? She’s of no use to anyone. She’s barmy."
"That’s possible , but he’s also a media outlet and goes against the Ministry. That had to be quelled immediately. I have no use for the child. I won’t raise a hand against her. She’d done nothing to earn my ire." He looked at the doorway past Pansy. "I can’t say that the rest of these fools here feel the same way."
-----
"But what about - "
"Bloody Hell, Pansy! You heard the barmy witch. I know he’s your betrothed, but do it. Compel him - seduce him with the magic you’ve been taught - twist his mind to do what she commands - break them both in the worst way - or I’ll have to do it and then I’ll have to break you too. Do you really want that? Do you want to see me break children? I’ve done it and it’s terrible. If you do it, at least they will have a chance to recover."
"I’ve never broken anyone before."
He looked away from her at a spot above her head. He towered but never intimidated. "You’ve fucked him before. You know him well. Use that knowledge against him. Find that piece that hasn’t been tested in his mind and break that. It’s the most fragile and brittle. Shatter it. The rest will crumble."
Pansy looked down at her wand. "I hate her for what she’s asking. I hate her more that she would turn it on me in an instant."
"Leave Draco in the dungeon with the prisoners once he’s done. That’s her command. Come back to me when it’s finished."
"What has Draco done to earn her ire? Why him? What has he done that is so terrible that I have to compel him to hurt the prisoner?"
"Does it matter? It’s another wound on Lucius for his failure. Draco exists and that is enough for the Dark Lord."
Dolohov stepped closer, putting his lips next to her ears. "We’re nothing, but tools for our Dark Lord’s conquest. We’re nothing but pawns for the Dark Lord’s wishes and plans. You are to do his bidding and nothing else. You would be wise to learn that now."
Antonin stepped back from his minion and saw her face harden in understanding. "As you ask, my lord."
Pansy turned and went to look for Draco.
-----
Pansy’s teeth hurt. The knuckles on her right hand hurt. Blood dripped from the palm of her left hand while the copper tang smell wafted through the chamber.
She watched in agony as she compelled her betrothed with dark magic. His grey eyes glazed over. His wand clattered on the marble floor. His thin lips went slack.
Directions were given - crude, harsh, hideous - and she walked him to the dungeon.
Pansy watched Draco open the door to the dungeon and close it behind him. A loud thud followed almost immediately. "Draco, what are you doing?"
Pansy turned her head from the door and walked halfway up the stairs. She knew what was about to happen. Those were her instructions, the commands given to her.
"Draco, no, please, don’t!"
Screams punctured the door and impaled in her head. Pansy crumbled to the stairs while crying tears of misery.
You never said this was going to break me too!
-----
"Obliviate me. I can’t live with what I did to him."
Dolohov turned to her and glared. "Tonight, deal with it. You’re going to learn to endure the pain of what you did and what you were forced to do. It’ll numb you eventually for the storm that’s coming. Now go home. I’ll return eventually."
Her face flushed in panic. "What are you on about?"
"Snatchers caught the Mudblood. They are bringing her and a bunch of others as well. Potter might be with them. I don’t want you to see what’s going to happen."
"If they have Potter, the Dark Lord will be summoned, right?"
Antonin’s face tightened. His features became intimidating. "Do you really want to see any of us interrogate the Mudblood? If Greyback’s group caught them, do you really want to see what he does to her?"
"No." Pansy felt the bile rising up her throat. "You’re right; I’ll leave. I’ve seen his methods."
She took off down the hall. "Take Draco with you," He commanded from his place in the room.
-----
"Draco, come on."
"No, I have to stay."
"Come with me back to my estates, at least tonight. We can have some fun, just us."
"Sod off! I’m staying."
She blanched. "Are you mad? Have you lost your mind? You know what they are going to do to her, don’t you?"
Draco turned and glared at her. "Is it worse that you can’t complete the task assigned, that your mentor had to step up and fulfill what you were commanded to perform? Is it any worse than watching someone be killed before your very eyes? Is it any worse than your betrothed manipulate you at the behest of another? Is it any worse than being mindfucked? Get away from me."
"But Draco - "
"I said get the fuck away from me," he snarled." Get out!"
Pansy turned and ran. Her mind ran faster. But they would have killed you if I hadn’t!
-----
Pansy stood in the doorway to the Slytherin common room. The parchment note from her father conveyed the worst: Mother met with Narcissa Malfoy two days ago and was informed that they were breaking the betrothal contract immediately. The next day she was kidnapped by Rabastan Lestrange and taken to Malfoy Manor.
She read hastily through the letter, conveying his concerns for her and what she could do to insulate herself from the problems in the world. Most of it was rubbish since she was chin deep in the politics at the school as well.
A postscript at the bottom said that he was going outside to see about a commotion out on the street and that he would pen a letter to her the next day. That second letter never came.
She knew her life was falling apart. Dad would easily pay a ransom for Mother. She was his wife even if they didn’t like each other terribly much. She would miss mother if anything happened to her. They might not have been as close as she was with her father but she was still her mother.
As upset as she was about her Mother losing her status was worse. Rumors and innuendo was the currency of the day. Disdain passing like condiments echoed through the common room and along the Great Hall. Her name was already passed around like a cheap harlot.
She looked up from the parchment and saw Draco standing on the other side of the room. Crabbe and Goyle flanked him looking intimidating. A scowl crossed his pale face before turning back to his compatriots.
She turned and left for the girl’s dorm. She could silence her wails and hide her tears behind her curtains very shortly. She couldn’t bare her shame in public. Pansy would have trouble consoling her shame in private too.
-----
The parchment crumbled in her hands. A note from her source at the Prophet told her the worst - her father was missing and had been for days. The editor was in a panic and would have trouble concealing Alistair Parkinson’s absence much longer.
Another owl swooped in from the rafters. She didn’t recognize it but saw her name on the outside of the envelope. The mail was screened and had been all year but that didn’t stop her reticence from the letter.
Ms. Parkinson,
We had your mother. Your father wouldn’t come to us so we had to make an example of her. He ran, but we caught him and have him now. Whether we kill him depends on you now. Here is what we need you to do to ensure that he remains unharmed.
Pansy read her instructions. Each line of information was more incredulous than the last. They can’t be serious. This sounds like copy from the Quibbler.
If Potter shows up at Hogwarts, do everything in your power to detain him until reinforcements arrive. If you have any other questions, Goyle will be able to answer your further. Once we have Potter we will return your parents to their estate.
Pansy looked up from her place at the table. "What is it?"
She turned to look at Daphne sitting next to her. "You’re not going to believe what I was just told."
-----
"Give me Harry Potter," said Voldemort’s voice, "and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you shall be rewarded.
"You have until Midnight."
The silence swallowed them again. Every head turned, every eye in the place seemed to have found Harry, to hold him frozen in the glare of a thousand invisible beams. Then a figure rose from the Slytherin table and he recognized Pansy Parkinson as she raised a shaking arm and screamed, "But he’s there! Potter’s there! Someone grab him!"
Pansy watched in abject horror as the students coalesced around Harry, all wands drawn and aimed at her. Oh fuck!
"Thank You, Miss Parkinson," said Professor McGonagall in a clipped voice. "You will leave the Hall first with Mr. Filch. If the rest of your house could follow."
-----
Pansy walked next to Argus Filch. She led the crowds being escorted from the grounds. Tears pricked her eyes. She had failed her task. Her downfall was complete. Mum. Dad. I failed you both. Forgive me.
The corridor rocked from a blast. Mortar dust fell on the escaping students. Run!
Pansy took off at a sprint.
-----
"That’s quite an explanation Ms. Parkinson. We might have to find a way to grant immunity for you and your actions for this detailed accounting. Would you be willing to go on record for those accounts?"
"Stokley?"
"Send the MLE barrister to my office next week so we can work out the details. That should suffice going forward. Any other issues need to be brought to my attention and she cannot be questioned without my presence."
The Aurors nodded in agreement.
"Now for the news we brought for you, Ms. Parkinson. First off your father is missing. Since it’s been two weeks we are operating under the presumption that he is dead."
"I gathered as much. He’s dutiful to send mail or call at least twice a week regardless of how busy he is. When I hadn’t heard from him in five days I made a notice. His assistant at the Prophet was the one who filed the first missing persons report."
"Your mum is dead."
"Yes, I know that too. I have an appointment to settle her arrangements this afternoon in London."
"We think he knew who was behind her kidnapping. It’s the only explanation why your father ran almost immediately when her remains were found on the front doorstep of the Daily Prophet. But as terrible as this is, her murder is the least of your concerns."
Pansy looked at Mackenzie in befuddlement. He shook his head as well.
"Well, go on man, out with it."
"Your father was being blackmailed into complying with the current regime for his publishing of the Daily Prophet. Your mum was kidnapped the day after you left for Hogwarts by Rodolphus Lestrange. She was Imperioed and returned the next day to your father with a note attached stating what he needed to do. His task was to toe the line in support of the new regime and print the propaganda that they wrote. Yaxley might have been in charge at MLS and Thicknesse listed as the Minister of Magic, but Dolohov was the enforcer behind Riddle’s rule."
Pansy appeared stoic yet on the inside she felt the punch in her gut. "Mum, a hostage? Imperioed?"
"Exactly. We didn’t know about the blackmail scheme until two days ago. Our source told us this information three days ago. Your mother was to keep an eye on your father and report back to her handler. That information helped us break so many cases in the last 48 hours."
"That’s rubbish. We were taught in class how to perform that curse by Amycus Carrow. What we saw in class was nothing like Mum. She didn’t act like she was under a curse when I saw her during the Christmas Hols."
"Didn’t she seem rather distant and cold to you?"
Pansy shook her head. "No more so than usual. Mother and I weren’t as close as I was with Father."
"That is what a master can do who knows how to perform the curse effectively," Williamson laughed. "A well performed Imperio by a powerful wizard can’t be detected. Carrow barely knew which way to hold his wand, much less perform any decent wandwork. What he showed you was a basic Imperio, intended to sway children. The Lestrange brothers - Rabastan and Rodolphus - are masters using that curse. Not even Bellatrix Lestrange was as effective as they are. They infiltrated much of Gringott’s and the Ministry. Some there, such as Dolores Umbridge, came willingly while others, such as Pius Thicknesse, had to be forced into it. They even tried Percy Weasley but he wouldn’t break. Only when they threatened to go after Ginny Weasley did he relent."
Pansy turned her head from Ginny’s name being mentioned. She didn’t want to admit her role in the torments of the witch at school this year.
"Anyway, your father did what was required of him. He published the necessary propaganda along with regime supporting articles that were foisted upon him. He still had writers publishing some criticisms on occasion too. He fought the best he could and nearly succeeded. That was until he received a parchment on Halloween. From our source inside of the Prophet, from that day forward he toed the line willingly."
"What was the letter?"
Auror Jones sat up further. "The letter implied a threat on your life if he didn’t stop trying to investigate the new regime."
"But why me? I’m a pureblood from a pureblood family. Why come after us? We supported the regime."
Auror Williamson snorted. "It’s easier to make someone do what is required of them when someone they love is threatened. It’s easier to coerce someone when their loved one is chained to a wall under threat of torture. Isn’t that right Pansy?"
Fuck! Pansy blanched from the implied threat. They know about Christmas and Easter. I’m going to kill Draco! Bloody Hell!
Auror Jones leaned forward in her chair. "We’re not here to interrogate you about your involvement with Luna Lovegood or her father. We’re here to get information to track down Antonin Dolohov."
"But I’ve already told you what little I know about him!"
"Did you know that he was carrying on an affair with your mother most of the last three years? Did you know that he was her handler and reported on your father back to You-know-Who?"
"Rubbish. Father wouldn’t tolerate it."
Auror Williamson laughed. "Your father’s dalliances were well known around London. He’s had a mistress for decades."
"Father’s different. He’s expected to have a mistress. The rules for pureblood men are different."
"And your mother is expected to remain celibate the whole time? Now that’s outdated."
Pansy scowled. "Hardly. She cared in her own way for him and preferred to be a kept woman. How different is that from most pureblood society women?"
Mackenzie Stokley snorted. "Such brash assumptions you have, Miss Parkinson. I’ve been married for decades and my wife and I have our little games and affairs. We both know our standing but also our discretions. Your father took a mistress soon after they were married. Your mum was most thankful for her when she was pregnant with you and thereafter."
Pansy looked at her solicitor in befuddlement.
"You said Dolohov was your mentor. What do you really know of him?"
"I know that he was English born of Russians immigrants and was sent abroad to Durmstrang to escape the start of the first war."
Auror Jones leaned back in the chair. "You know his history better than I do, Williamson. Why don’t you explain to her the real man behind the mask? Why don’t we tell her the rest of the story?"
Auror Williamson opened his satchel and brought out a leather bound dossier. He thumbed through it for a second before looking up at the Solicitor and Pansy before him. He handed it over to Pansy for her to read.
She looked at Stokley. "Why not?"
She tore into the handwritten notes in the dossier.
-----
"His grandparents died during the Muggle World War. His grandfather was on the front lines in Moscow while his grandmother fell to starvation in 1945. The other siblings of his mother either died in the war or of the rampant starvation during that time. That left his Great Uncle Pyotr to care for his niece Galina as best as possible. They left Russia and made their way to Romania where they stayed a few years.
"What he neglected to mention was that his uncle Pyotr was a Voldemort supporter from the late 40s. From what we gather, they met in Romania while Voldemort was recruiting supporters once he left England. Uncle Pyotr was one of the first of Riddle’s followers, but also the most circumspect. He was a local commissar for the Communists, but few knew that he was a Wizard, too. He was rather adept at memory charms so we can gather. Riddle’s task for him was simple - recruit and wait for the signal. He didn’t mind. He was sick of Muggles at that point and wanted to find a way of avenging his family from the traitors and vermin as he saw them - especially the wizards who willingly helped Muggles.
"Meanwhile Galina caught the eye of a Russian mercenary named Vasily Sergeiovich Dolohov around 1954 or so. The details are fuzzy since our sources couldn’t verify all of our questions. Suffice to say, Galina and Pyotr had a falling out and Galina ran away with Vasily to get married. Galina didn’t care that Vasily was a mercenary, a wizard for hire for any nefarious operation. She only wanted out of the Eastern Bloc and a new life. He was her ticket to a new life.
"They left Romania and immigrated to Albania in 1953. Unfortunately Pyotr tracked them down there. Pyotr didn’t approve of Vasily nor of her marriage and was enraged at her now apparent pregnancy. There was a dual and Vasily won, but Galina begged him not to kill her uncle. They ran, spent much of his money and boarded a steamer for England. They hid like the Muggles they held in disdain. They landed in Portsmouth a month later.
"Uncle Pyotr stayed in Albania. He found the women willing, the magic open and accepted, and the climate more his liking. He still recruited for Riddle and biding his time.
"They stayed in Portsmouth where Vasily was able to do freelance contract mercenary work for the English criminal network. He didn’t care what the job was - from assassination to running illegal potions to Muggle trafficking. All he cared about was being paid and his son. From what we gather, he loved Antonin even if he wasn’t that fond of his wife. But they were married and kept the bonds. It didn’t mean that Vasily settled into domesticity. Far from it. He was known around south England as a wand for hire - and his only loyalty was in galleons. Protection rackets, Muggle smuggling, murder for hire - it didn’t matter. His true master was wealth. He worked hard and lived hard.
"He picked the wrong warehouse to infiltrate one night and came across Aurors on stakeout. A fierce fight broke out and Vasily died in a duel in 1960. He left behind Galina to raise Antonin by herself. Her English wasn’t that good but she fought to raise him right."
"Well, around that time, Voldemort was providing more influence in England. He was gathering more supporters and criminal actions were increasing. The murder of Muggles was harder to hide from the normal populace. Galina heard the rumors and decided that she wanted her son away from the growing problems in England and sent her son to Uncle Pyotr who sent him off to Durmstrang for his education.
"What Galina didn’t realize was Uncle Pyort was still a Voldemort supporter and found a willing recruit in Antonin. Young Antonin was sick of the poverty they lived in following his father's death and found Uncle Pyotr’s lifestyle preferable. He wanted power and wealth and saw that his uncle had such. All that it took was some work on his part and he’d be as comfortable and successful. Running illegal potions was his first task outside of school. Then he was a heavy for his uncle’s extortion racket. Then he moved onto extortion himself. Within a month after his fourth year, he was an accomplished student of Eastern European criminal activities. He was a skilled dualist and rumored to have killed someone in another duel.
"Suffice to say by the time Antonin returned to Great Britain after finishing his education abroad he was ready for the next step. Before Dolohov took his Portkey to London, he killed his uncle Pyotr. By the time the Albanian authorities discovered his death, Dolohov was already out of the country. They issued a warrant for his arrest, but they could never capture him. He resurfaced a couple of years later in London ready to join forces with Riddle. Riddle wouldn’t accept him until he made another kill - to prove his loyalty to the Dark Lord."
"He made contact with Avery and Rookwood and settled into the criminal network here. From what we know, Dolohov knew to contact Avery from his uncle’s contact book. But he had one more task to fulfill before he was branded a legitimate Death Eater."
-----
Pansy looked up from the dossier in her hands. "There’s nothing else in this file."
Auror Jones finished sipping on her tea. "That’s because I have the rest of his recent history. That starts with the disappearance of his mother."
Pansy sat on the edge of her chair, silent to hear the narrative continue. An epiphany hit her like a stunner. "Oh dear Merlin, he didn’t."
"He supposedly did. She vanished without a trace after Dolohov returned to England. A missing persons report was filed but nothing was done about it. Portsmouth police couldn’t explain how a woman in a locked apartment completely vanished. MLE looked into it and found a killing curse was performed in her flat, but without a body there wasn’t much that could be done. The Aurors filed it as a missing person cold case and it was left at that."
"For years he was a wanted man, on the continent, at least, but kept a low enough profile in England. There was a warrant for his arrest here for various petty crimes, but he always got away. He didn’t show up on our radar until 1981 when he was implicated and caught for the deaths of Fabian and Gideon Prewett."
"Should I know that name? What makes them so important?"
Both Aurors smiled at one another. "Fabian and Gideon Prewett were related to the Weasley's."
Pansy sat there stoic once again. What the fuck have I gotten into?
"We’re surprised that your father didn’t tell you that story. It seems that in 1981, five Death Eaters ambushed Gideon and Fabian Prewett when they were out on a raid one night for Magical Law Enforcement. They were Aurors, but on loan due to the shortages in MLS during the First Wizarding War. Anyway, it was five on two and the Prewett brothers took down three Death Eaters before one of the brothers fell. The other one stood his ground protecting his brother’s remains trying to escape. Dolohov wounded him with his patented purple flame curse and the second brother went down. He performed the coup de grace on the other brother before fleeing with Rookwood.
"He was caught a couple of weeks later and sentenced to Azkaban for his murder of the Prewett brothers. Shortly thereafter, as you know, Riddle disappeared following the murder of Harry Potter’s parents."
"Many years passed before problems started again. Dolohov was part of the mass breakout from Azkaban in 1996 along with the Lestranges and the others. He didn’t wait long to pick up where he left off. In his wake were extortion, mayhem and murder. How he stayed sane in there I’ll never know.
"Anyway, that was when he returned and seduced your Mum. She was lonely from our information and found him attentive and willing. Your father knew about it and was amenable. His flat in London was her place of residence many an evening when your father was working."
Pansy shook her head in light of the growing revelations.
"Anyway, he was captured again during the fight at the Ministry of Magic. You might remember that one from the news articles. That was the day that Harry Potter was first vindicated for the return of You-Know-Who. Fudge saw him standing there in the atrium of the Ministry before vanishing once again. Your father had the morning edition out in hours, even with the news breaking so late."
Pansy looked down at her hands and saw them gripping the armrests. She willed her fingers to loosen from their grip and barely managed to let go.
"It was determined at his next trial that he fought in the Ministry, dueling the likes of interim Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror Tonks, retired Auror Moody, and others. But what he was incarcerated for once again was that blasted purple flame curse on Hermione Granger. Witnesses gave written testimony that he nailed her with that and she nearly perished from it. It wasn’t an unforgiveable curse but it was close enough."
"Anyway, you know most of the rest in the last two years. You’ve read the papers and such."
Pansy nodded in affirmation.
"Mistress Pansy?"
Pansy looked to the doorway to see Ezzy standing there with a parchment parcel in her small hands. She motioned for the house elf to come forward with it.
"This arrived a couple of minutes ago via owl. It’s addressed to Auror Jones. I thought it might be important."
The diminutive house elf handed over the parcel to the Auror in the first seat. She waved her wand over the package before unwrapping the twine and paper over it. She quickly read the notes inside it and then looked up over the top of the package.
"Your father has been found."
Pansy felt something break inside. "He’s dead, isn’t he?"
Auror Jones nodded. "He was found this morning sitting in his chair at the Prophet with… well, it’s rather gruesome from what this report says."
Anger was washing over her. "Damn it, tell me everything."
Auror Jones turned stoic. "From reading the report here, he had two quick quills stuck through his eyes, his tongue ripped out and his bits removed. It appears he had been dead a few hours when he was found."
Her world crumbled in an instant. Her head fell forward, cradled into her hands. "Daddy," Pansy whimpered behind her hands. "Please forgive me."
"There is a letter in here, addressed to you. We’ll need it back but you are welcome to read it here."
Pansy took the parchment letter into her hands. They shook violently.
Pansy:
What happened the last two weeks wasn’t directed at you. Know that now. You were a pawn like the rest of us. I chose to follow the Dark Lord for my own reasons.
What happened to your Mum was business. She was a loose end that had to be wrapped up. I didn’t love her. She didn’t love me. But she was a pleasant companion for a time and a comfort in the war that just happened. I’m regret that had to happen to her.
Your father wasn’t killed by my choice. He was caught by Snatchers. They brought him to the Manor. A wand at my back forced my hand and I was directed to interrogate him. It looks like he suffered, but he didn’t. I broke him immediately so he wouldn’t realize the depths and intensity of his torture. He died the same day he was brought to us and was already dead before he was desecrated. The charm he was kept under was for effect. I’m sure the Aurors will realize it once they look close enough.
I’ve enclosed in the other parchment for the Aurors that you were coerced by me to do what you did to the Lovegoods - and against Malfoy. That document should protect you. They now know that you were forced - imperioed like your mum - to do my bidding. You were my student and you learned well even if you loathed the lessons. I broke the charm when the siege on Hogwarts started. It was the most I could do for you at the time - to protect you.
But he didn’t imperio me, did he? Pansy turned her eyes back to the parchment in her hands.
Snape is dead by the Dark Lord’s hands. Bellatrix is dead and so is the Dark Lord. Before writing this I was informed Rodolphus is dead along with Fenir and Alecto. I don’t have time to verify this gossip. The remaining supporters know to leave you be upon pain of death. I made that abundantly clear: You aren’t to be touched for any reason on my authority. Rowle learned that lesson the hard way.
I will not be returning to England so you won’t see me again. I won’t ask for your forgiveness. What I did was business and not personal. Blame me for how fucked up your life is now. That’s the price I paid for chasing galleons and power.
I tried to protect you from the choices I made and teach you how to deal when there was no choice. Between me and Snape I think you can handle what comes.
You are free to live as best as possible. Remember your lessons and endure as best as possible.
AD
Pansy started laughing.
"What’s so funny Miss Parkinson?"
Pansy handed over the letter to Stokley for his analysis.
"Ruddy bastard," she muttered under her breath before she could catch her words. "You destroyed everything in my life while chasing galleons and now because of you, all I have left in my life are my galleons. Galleons won’t keep me warm at night, selfish git. Some reward I earned, huh? 30 pieces of silver would have tasted better."
-----
For the Love of Pansy (Round 1) Masterlist
Username: divagonzo1
Pairing: Dolohov/Pansy
Type: Het/Gen
Prompt: #81 - Pansy doesn’t care that she’s a girl; she wants to fight. Antonin seems to be the only one who understands that.
Rating: R
Word Count: 8,144
Warnings/content: abuse, language, non-graphic references to sex
Summary: Pansy is home after the Battle of Hogwarts but learns so much more about the man who she called her Mentor - Antonin Dolohov. She learns there is more to the man than she originally knew and appreciated
Notes: I had so much fun exploring this dynamic along with fleshing out one of the primary bad guys in my fanfiction world. Thanks for offering this prompt. My thanks to Becca - my beta and host for the festival - for helping out so much on this piece. She does make me look and sound like a better writer. Quotes borrowed and returned from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows, American Edition, page 610 (2007).
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters/references are property of JK Rowling and associates. No copyright infringement is intended.
And Now, the Rest of the Story
Pansy ran. Mold and mortar dust coated her robes while she ran the ancient escape tunnels from the castle. Nothing mattered except getting away. She didn’t want to get caught in the castle when the siege started. Nothing on the Hogwarts grounds interested her in the least. All that mattered now was getting home.
A decrepit oak door barred her path but only for an instant. One quick spell and she was through, racing the last distance to the basement of the train depot in Hogsmeade. Freedom, finally!
She took three steps off of the platform and apparated away from the chaos and mayhem in the town.
-----
Pansy stood in the doorway looking at the redhead in the bed. He might not have been the Weasley she originally desired but he placated her completely. She knew what was coming this morning and unlike the rest that she associated with, she wouldn’t run. Draco? That prat wouldn’t help now. The family solicitor informed her of that, penning the crumpled parchment that lay at the bottom of her travel bag. He had turned traitor to the cause, selling them all out to save his sorry arse. She understood. Given the same choice now, she would have done the same. A second enclosed note from a friend in the Ministry informed her of the happenings in London this week.
She'd heard the rumors, spoken in hushed whispers at the Estate. Her first mentor was dead. Potter mentioned that in the Great Hall. Tears for Professor Snape were shed in private. Only Millicent and Daphne knew how much of an influence Severus was on her life. Oh, nothing so crude as a physical pleasures. Her mentor taught her how to use logic and rhetoric to influence. The subtlety of linguistics and cultural significance of words would help her later on tread in the footsteps of her father.
The note and request from the solicitor also confirmed her worst fears: her mother was missing and presumed to be dead. He had no information about her father. He was feared dead, too. Pansy dreaded confirmation since she hadn’t spoken to him in days, either by Floo or by Owl Post. That would be the only reason that Mackinzie Stokley would be coming to see her in person at her estates later this morning rather than have her call upon him in London.
Stokley had sent a courier with her vital documents yesterday morning. To most people they were gibberish. Gibberish that was important to the Parkinson family. But he had other business to discuss, business that required signatures of ownership and partnership to address.
The Aurors calling later this morning were another matter. Their arrival so shortly after the events at Hogwarts troubled her. Could they have learned of her involvement at Malfoy Manor over the Christmas holidays? Could have they been informed of what happened at Draco’s estates before Potter and pals were brought in?
Her other mentor told her to do her duty while he went abroad into hiding. Bide your time, endure no matter what happens, and await my return. He had been strong and taught her much in the last three years. The year he was incarcerated at Azkaban did nothing to diminish his quest for following the Dark Lord’s wishes. His hand upon hers - strong, calloused, dirty - was all that he left behind.
She left a note for the Weasley in the bed thanking him for the temporary affection and attention he showed her last night and this morning. She previously reserved pleasure for the git known as Draco Malfoy. Sticky fumblings early on grew into torrid pleasure as they came to know one another. In comparison to the night before, Draco was a boy only intent on his desires. The shagging from the elder Weasley was astounding and also taught her what she had been missing. It would have to do once she walked out of this hovel of a room. It’s not like she had a desire to discuss her peccadillos with anyone else now. Bulstrode would castigate her, and Daphne Greengrass would only ask if he was a good fuck. Silly strumpet. She had a lifetime of wealth and humiliation awaiting her nuptuals to Theo Nott. Poor Millicent didn’t even have that. Her betrothal to Crabbe went up in flames upon the death of Crabbe Sr. and then Junior.
She stepped out and closed it quietly behind her. Only candlelight from the scones on the wall told her the time. It was early and no one was around to see her leave. Down the stairs she went to Floo home to her property north of Cambridge.
-----
An hour later, and a welcome shower with a change of attire into proper robes, gave her time to read across the documents on the table in her study. Her solicitor was due shortly and she hoped his arrival would answer some burning questions she had for him.
Her house elf Ezzy came into the library, draped in livery. "Mistress Pansy, the Solicitor is here."
"Show him in and have a tea service ready in fifteen minutes."
"Gladly, Mistress."
"Ezzy?"
"Yes, Mistress?"
"I’m expecting Aurors to arrive within the hour. Please show them to the drawing room and make them comfortable. Solicitor Stokley and I have delicate business to attend to so I don’t want to be disturbed except in an emergency."
"Gladly, Mistress."
Pansy looked down at the unbound documents on the writing desk. She spent enough time with her father to understand the parcel before her - and the information within the papers. She was, for all intents and purposes, the mistress of the Manor. She had been named executor of the estates and owner of the vaults at Gringott’s as of last week.
It might be enough to buy her way out of a longer stint in Azkaban.
"Solicitor Stokley," Ezzy squeaked from the doorway.
Pansy rose from her chair by the fire, projecting greeting for her first guest. "Please, come in, be seated. Tea will be served in a minute."
-----
Pansy sat in the large leather wingback that was her father’s chair. A small table next to the chair bore the various documents that needed signing. They could wait, but the ledger in front of her was her primary interest. Her solicitor - he was in her father’s private solicitor as opposed to the one on staff at the Daily Prophet - was dutiful to bring it along with the other vital papers. Inside the ledger were the actual figures for the publishing house that ran the Daily Prophet. She was fortunate that it was turned over to her since many in the Wizengamot would give up their wand for what the ledger contained. She figured that most couldn’t decipher her father’s ledger. Few in the Wizarding world knew how to read the Middle English cipher her father used as the script. To her trained eyes it was plain print.
While she read the pages, her solicitor droned upon the news he brought. As she had had already been told, her mother was dead. She was left on the steps of the Daily Prophet the day before the fighting started at Hogwarts. Alistair Parkinson left immediately once his wife’s remains were discovered. He fled and hadn’t been seen since.
Pansy expected as much. Her father was in a precarious position. He was a Pureblood but also in charge of the Prophet. He had a duty to perform but not at the expense of his family’s good name nor their estates nor their lives.
-----
"So that wraps up our current business. Are there any questions you have of me before I return to London this morning?"
Pansy was nose deep in the ledger before her. There were hundreds of pages of numbers along with notations on each line. Her father was notorious for being frugal but her respect for him multiplied with how diligent he was in documenting each transaction he facilitated. She could sink half of Wizarding England if this journal was made available to the Wizengamot. From what she could tell scanning the pages before her, the only family that was clean as a whistle was the Weasley clan. Bugger their nobility. Well, most of them.
"Thank you Father," she whispered aloud, if only to herself.
She waved her hand at the Solicitor while she found one note the lynchpin to what she needed. She knew he made a notation to which book in the library was the safe. Now she had the location and information needed to secure her place.
Pansy looked up from the ledger. "No, this is more than satisfactory this morning. If I have any further questions I will call upon you in London. I have business there later today anyway." She sighed. "I have to attend to my mother’s arrangements in London."
Mackenzie Stokley stood before his new client and took her hand in thanks. "If I hear anything in regards to your father I shall let you know straight away."
Pansy sighed. "I hope you do, but after everything this past year, I doubt you will. He’s never away from his desk more than a couple of days without telling someone. I honestly expect bad news shortly. He was a businessman and a pureblood. He was also a public figure and a man of standing in polite society. I’m sure that is why the Aurors are coming shortly. He’s been gone a week. They’re probably coming to tell me he’s dead."
"Shall I stay with you then? If they are calling, you might need my advice if they bring terrible news."
Ezzy stepped into the study and stood quietly by the door.
"It seems that you won’t have to wait Counselor. My second guests are already here." Pansy turned and addressed her elf, asking her to bring the Aurors into the study. The elf scurried from the room.
"Now let’s see what bad news the Aurors are bringing me this morning."
-----
"Mistress, Aurors Williamson and Jones."
Ezzy departed quickly while the two Aurors stepped into the study. Hestia Jones looked less like an Auror and more like a frumpy escort. Her robes were rumpled, her bun falling apart and her boots soiled with something that looked like dirt. The other Auror - Williamson - looked as haggard as the young woman did.
"Aurors, may I present my Solicitor, Mackenzie Stokley, Esquire, of Stokley and Associates."
Two nods from the Aurors were all she was going to receive in pleasantries from them. "What do I owe the pleasure of this morning’s visit?"
"Ms. Parkinson, we don’t want much of your time for now but we have a few questions in regards to your association with Antonin Dolohov. Do you know where he is?"
Pansy saw her solicitor nod in approval. "I’ve not seen the man in question for a week. The last time I saw him was the evening after the battle at Hogwarts. I was home when he barged in. He was here maybe a minute before disapparating."
"Did he say anything to you the last time you saw him?"
Pansy glanced a nod again. "He told me to bide my time, endure what comes, and await his return."
Auror Williamson was frantically writing everything she said down. "That’s all he said?"
Pansy nodded in affirmation. "I think he was in a bit of a hurry to escape that evening. I can’t imagine why since the Dark Lord was dead along with Bellatrix. I can’t fathom why the second in command wanted to run instead of standing and fighting."
"Why did he return here? We were told Malfoy Manor was where You-Know-Who was residing there."
"I think my client has -"
"No, Stokley. It’s fine. They would find out anyway. My embarrassment here at home, in private, would be preferable than having it found out under questioning at the Ministry. I can cope with some personal humiliation."
Pansy looked at her hand, hands holding her wand. She laid it down on the side table, refusing the temptation that it would offer.
"Dolohov was staying here instead of the estates of the Malfoy family. He said he preferred the quiet here, away from the screams of the prisoners, than dealing with the machinations that the Dark Lord was contriving. He also couldn’t stand when the Carrows were present, stupid pigs."
"And your father?"
"My father was amenable to this arrangement. Dolohov was quiet, kept to his rooms when he wasn’t out on business, and he was pleasant company. Father was comfortable with Dolohov staying here during the week when he was busy working in London. He was also my mentor, my teacher away from Hogwarts. I might have learned as much from him as Professor Snape."
Pansy looked down at her hands again to see they were fiddling with her wand. She put it back on the side table before waiting for Auror Williamson to finish furiously inscribing on the parchment in his hands. Auror Jones on the other hand was studying her. "Was that all there was with him, Ms. Parkinson? Was he anything more than just a mentor? Was he a paramour?"
"Uh, no. He’s so old, Auror Jones - and the implications are revolting. Antonin Dolohov was not a paramour or suitor for my hand. My father had me betrothed to Draco Malfoy when I turned eleven. Once I turned 16, I spent many a pleasant hour in Draco’s company. Things changed between us before the Easter holidays and we quickly grew apart."
Pansy blushed in remembering why their contract was dissolved. "Dolohov and I were summoned to Malfoy Manor at the end of the Easter Holiday. Xenophilius Lovegood was brought back in and according to Bellatrix Lestrange, he was to be questioned further after Potter, Granger, and Weasley escaped. While we were there, Dolohov and I suffered his wrath too."
Auror Jones hardened her look. "Well?"
"Pansy, you don’t have to speak further," said counselor Stokley at her side.
"Yes, I do, if anything, for absolution and explanation for what happened. I’m not afraid of it. I rather get the facts out now rather than later at the Wizengamot. You can deal with those sods. Then again, being under a threat of death - along with my father and mother - should suffice in some leniency. My mother’s death proved how true and accurate that assumption was."
Pansy turned back to the Aurors before her. "Please, sit. We’re going to be here a while for me to explain everything going on."
-----
Pansy stood at the doorway to the dungeons. The rank smell was overwhelming. Unlike Professor’s Snape’s classroom, this one was unkempt and disgusting. Only the elderly man in rags in the corner broke the appearance. He was shackled to the wall while another "guest" was upstairs.
"Why am I still alive," asked a creaky voice chained on the wall.
"I don’t know Mr. Ollivander."
"Why do you stand there silent? I thought you’d taunt like the rest."
"I’m here because my mentor is and he’s upstairs. I don’t want to see him work over another prisoner. It’s too much."
"Is it? Have you sunk in too far to escape, too?"
Just then Pansy was shoved aside and a flying mop of blonde fell onto the stone floor.
"It seems that the ‘claws can’t soar now, can they Pansy?" The sibilant voice echoed in her ears behind her. "Cage a claw, pluck their wings, break them, and they will turn to vicious snakes. Come dear. You have work to do and lessons to learn. Don’t mind the bint in the basement. She’s not here to inform, only insure."
Pansy looked closer and saw a butterbeer cap necklace tangled in her stringy platinum blonde hair.
She followed the mistress before her as she ascended the stairs to her task at hand.
-----
Pansy had her wand pointed at the wizard on the ground. Harsh words whispered in her ear, from Thorfinn of all people focused her attention on the derelict before her. She motioned her wand and he writhed on the ground, howling in agony. She had to mean it, the power behind the curse. The threat whispered in her ear was enough to focus her frustrations on the competitor before her.
"Enough," hissed the voice from earlier.
She watched as the father of the prisoner was hoisted on his feet. Coarse words were spoken, warnings given, instructions issued. He was cursed yet again, given a final instruction before being whisked away to his residence in Devon.
"You need practice Pansy. Your wandwork is sloppy. Draco did better when he was an ickle firstie. Here, let me demonstrate. Crucio!"
Pansy fell to the floor in agony, writhing under the mistress curse. An eternity later the pain stopped.
Pansy rolled on the marble of the drawing room trying to catch her breath. She heard laughter then a thud in the corner. She opened her eyes on her mentor and saw the hulking blond stunned at his feet.
"Next time you will do better, silly girl!" sneered Bellatrix. The prodigious witch turned heel and stalked out of the drawing room.
Pansy turned her watery eyes on her mentor in the corner. He was sitting watching everything stoically. A small nod of his head and she scrambled to her feet to receive his tutelage. His attire was businesslike: closely shorn salt and pepper hair along with stylishly cut dark robes.
"Bellatrix is all about flourish. Rubbish. But she shouldn’t have turned her wand on you. I will deal with her shortly. It won’t be pleasant. Lovegood got the point, regardless of you losing focus at the end. There’s always a reticence in cursing another pureblood. No matter."
Pansy stood before her mentor shaking, a side effect of the curse. "But what has he done?"
"Nothing yet but I’m betting he will. He’s the trap for Potter. You close enough avenues of opportunity and the prey will come. It’s only a question of time. Lovegood will sell out Potter if he wants his daughter back."
"But keeping her here? She’s of no use to anyone. She’s barmy."
"That’s possible , but he’s also a media outlet and goes against the Ministry. That had to be quelled immediately. I have no use for the child. I won’t raise a hand against her. She’d done nothing to earn my ire." He looked at the doorway past Pansy. "I can’t say that the rest of these fools here feel the same way."
-----
"But what about - "
"Bloody Hell, Pansy! You heard the barmy witch. I know he’s your betrothed, but do it. Compel him - seduce him with the magic you’ve been taught - twist his mind to do what she commands - break them both in the worst way - or I’ll have to do it and then I’ll have to break you too. Do you really want that? Do you want to see me break children? I’ve done it and it’s terrible. If you do it, at least they will have a chance to recover."
"I’ve never broken anyone before."
He looked away from her at a spot above her head. He towered but never intimidated. "You’ve fucked him before. You know him well. Use that knowledge against him. Find that piece that hasn’t been tested in his mind and break that. It’s the most fragile and brittle. Shatter it. The rest will crumble."
Pansy looked down at her wand. "I hate her for what she’s asking. I hate her more that she would turn it on me in an instant."
"Leave Draco in the dungeon with the prisoners once he’s done. That’s her command. Come back to me when it’s finished."
"What has Draco done to earn her ire? Why him? What has he done that is so terrible that I have to compel him to hurt the prisoner?"
"Does it matter? It’s another wound on Lucius for his failure. Draco exists and that is enough for the Dark Lord."
Dolohov stepped closer, putting his lips next to her ears. "We’re nothing, but tools for our Dark Lord’s conquest. We’re nothing but pawns for the Dark Lord’s wishes and plans. You are to do his bidding and nothing else. You would be wise to learn that now."
Antonin stepped back from his minion and saw her face harden in understanding. "As you ask, my lord."
Pansy turned and went to look for Draco.
-----
Pansy’s teeth hurt. The knuckles on her right hand hurt. Blood dripped from the palm of her left hand while the copper tang smell wafted through the chamber.
She watched in agony as she compelled her betrothed with dark magic. His grey eyes glazed over. His wand clattered on the marble floor. His thin lips went slack.
Directions were given - crude, harsh, hideous - and she walked him to the dungeon.
Pansy watched Draco open the door to the dungeon and close it behind him. A loud thud followed almost immediately. "Draco, what are you doing?"
Pansy turned her head from the door and walked halfway up the stairs. She knew what was about to happen. Those were her instructions, the commands given to her.
"Draco, no, please, don’t!"
Screams punctured the door and impaled in her head. Pansy crumbled to the stairs while crying tears of misery.
You never said this was going to break me too!
-----
"Obliviate me. I can’t live with what I did to him."
Dolohov turned to her and glared. "Tonight, deal with it. You’re going to learn to endure the pain of what you did and what you were forced to do. It’ll numb you eventually for the storm that’s coming. Now go home. I’ll return eventually."
Her face flushed in panic. "What are you on about?"
"Snatchers caught the Mudblood. They are bringing her and a bunch of others as well. Potter might be with them. I don’t want you to see what’s going to happen."
"If they have Potter, the Dark Lord will be summoned, right?"
Antonin’s face tightened. His features became intimidating. "Do you really want to see any of us interrogate the Mudblood? If Greyback’s group caught them, do you really want to see what he does to her?"
"No." Pansy felt the bile rising up her throat. "You’re right; I’ll leave. I’ve seen his methods."
She took off down the hall. "Take Draco with you," He commanded from his place in the room.
-----
"Draco, come on."
"No, I have to stay."
"Come with me back to my estates, at least tonight. We can have some fun, just us."
"Sod off! I’m staying."
She blanched. "Are you mad? Have you lost your mind? You know what they are going to do to her, don’t you?"
Draco turned and glared at her. "Is it worse that you can’t complete the task assigned, that your mentor had to step up and fulfill what you were commanded to perform? Is it any worse than watching someone be killed before your very eyes? Is it any worse than your betrothed manipulate you at the behest of another? Is it any worse than being mindfucked? Get away from me."
"But Draco - "
"I said get the fuck away from me," he snarled." Get out!"
Pansy turned and ran. Her mind ran faster. But they would have killed you if I hadn’t!
-----
Pansy stood in the doorway to the Slytherin common room. The parchment note from her father conveyed the worst: Mother met with Narcissa Malfoy two days ago and was informed that they were breaking the betrothal contract immediately. The next day she was kidnapped by Rabastan Lestrange and taken to Malfoy Manor.
She read hastily through the letter, conveying his concerns for her and what she could do to insulate herself from the problems in the world. Most of it was rubbish since she was chin deep in the politics at the school as well.
A postscript at the bottom said that he was going outside to see about a commotion out on the street and that he would pen a letter to her the next day. That second letter never came.
She knew her life was falling apart. Dad would easily pay a ransom for Mother. She was his wife even if they didn’t like each other terribly much. She would miss mother if anything happened to her. They might not have been as close as she was with her father but she was still her mother.
As upset as she was about her Mother losing her status was worse. Rumors and innuendo was the currency of the day. Disdain passing like condiments echoed through the common room and along the Great Hall. Her name was already passed around like a cheap harlot.
She looked up from the parchment and saw Draco standing on the other side of the room. Crabbe and Goyle flanked him looking intimidating. A scowl crossed his pale face before turning back to his compatriots.
She turned and left for the girl’s dorm. She could silence her wails and hide her tears behind her curtains very shortly. She couldn’t bare her shame in public. Pansy would have trouble consoling her shame in private too.
-----
The parchment crumbled in her hands. A note from her source at the Prophet told her the worst - her father was missing and had been for days. The editor was in a panic and would have trouble concealing Alistair Parkinson’s absence much longer.
Another owl swooped in from the rafters. She didn’t recognize it but saw her name on the outside of the envelope. The mail was screened and had been all year but that didn’t stop her reticence from the letter.
Ms. Parkinson,
We had your mother. Your father wouldn’t come to us so we had to make an example of her. He ran, but we caught him and have him now. Whether we kill him depends on you now. Here is what we need you to do to ensure that he remains unharmed.
Pansy read her instructions. Each line of information was more incredulous than the last. They can’t be serious. This sounds like copy from the Quibbler.
If Potter shows up at Hogwarts, do everything in your power to detain him until reinforcements arrive. If you have any other questions, Goyle will be able to answer your further. Once we have Potter we will return your parents to their estate.
Pansy looked up from her place at the table. "What is it?"
She turned to look at Daphne sitting next to her. "You’re not going to believe what I was just told."
-----
"Give me Harry Potter," said Voldemort’s voice, "and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you shall be rewarded.
"You have until Midnight."
The silence swallowed them again. Every head turned, every eye in the place seemed to have found Harry, to hold him frozen in the glare of a thousand invisible beams. Then a figure rose from the Slytherin table and he recognized Pansy Parkinson as she raised a shaking arm and screamed, "But he’s there! Potter’s there! Someone grab him!"
Pansy watched in abject horror as the students coalesced around Harry, all wands drawn and aimed at her. Oh fuck!
"Thank You, Miss Parkinson," said Professor McGonagall in a clipped voice. "You will leave the Hall first with Mr. Filch. If the rest of your house could follow."
-----
Pansy walked next to Argus Filch. She led the crowds being escorted from the grounds. Tears pricked her eyes. She had failed her task. Her downfall was complete. Mum. Dad. I failed you both. Forgive me.
The corridor rocked from a blast. Mortar dust fell on the escaping students. Run!
Pansy took off at a sprint.
-----
"That’s quite an explanation Ms. Parkinson. We might have to find a way to grant immunity for you and your actions for this detailed accounting. Would you be willing to go on record for those accounts?"
"Stokley?"
"Send the MLE barrister to my office next week so we can work out the details. That should suffice going forward. Any other issues need to be brought to my attention and she cannot be questioned without my presence."
The Aurors nodded in agreement.
"Now for the news we brought for you, Ms. Parkinson. First off your father is missing. Since it’s been two weeks we are operating under the presumption that he is dead."
"I gathered as much. He’s dutiful to send mail or call at least twice a week regardless of how busy he is. When I hadn’t heard from him in five days I made a notice. His assistant at the Prophet was the one who filed the first missing persons report."
"Your mum is dead."
"Yes, I know that too. I have an appointment to settle her arrangements this afternoon in London."
"We think he knew who was behind her kidnapping. It’s the only explanation why your father ran almost immediately when her remains were found on the front doorstep of the Daily Prophet. But as terrible as this is, her murder is the least of your concerns."
Pansy looked at Mackenzie in befuddlement. He shook his head as well.
"Well, go on man, out with it."
"Your father was being blackmailed into complying with the current regime for his publishing of the Daily Prophet. Your mum was kidnapped the day after you left for Hogwarts by Rodolphus Lestrange. She was Imperioed and returned the next day to your father with a note attached stating what he needed to do. His task was to toe the line in support of the new regime and print the propaganda that they wrote. Yaxley might have been in charge at MLS and Thicknesse listed as the Minister of Magic, but Dolohov was the enforcer behind Riddle’s rule."
Pansy appeared stoic yet on the inside she felt the punch in her gut. "Mum, a hostage? Imperioed?"
"Exactly. We didn’t know about the blackmail scheme until two days ago. Our source told us this information three days ago. Your mother was to keep an eye on your father and report back to her handler. That information helped us break so many cases in the last 48 hours."
"That’s rubbish. We were taught in class how to perform that curse by Amycus Carrow. What we saw in class was nothing like Mum. She didn’t act like she was under a curse when I saw her during the Christmas Hols."
"Didn’t she seem rather distant and cold to you?"
Pansy shook her head. "No more so than usual. Mother and I weren’t as close as I was with Father."
"That is what a master can do who knows how to perform the curse effectively," Williamson laughed. "A well performed Imperio by a powerful wizard can’t be detected. Carrow barely knew which way to hold his wand, much less perform any decent wandwork. What he showed you was a basic Imperio, intended to sway children. The Lestrange brothers - Rabastan and Rodolphus - are masters using that curse. Not even Bellatrix Lestrange was as effective as they are. They infiltrated much of Gringott’s and the Ministry. Some there, such as Dolores Umbridge, came willingly while others, such as Pius Thicknesse, had to be forced into it. They even tried Percy Weasley but he wouldn’t break. Only when they threatened to go after Ginny Weasley did he relent."
Pansy turned her head from Ginny’s name being mentioned. She didn’t want to admit her role in the torments of the witch at school this year.
"Anyway, your father did what was required of him. He published the necessary propaganda along with regime supporting articles that were foisted upon him. He still had writers publishing some criticisms on occasion too. He fought the best he could and nearly succeeded. That was until he received a parchment on Halloween. From our source inside of the Prophet, from that day forward he toed the line willingly."
"What was the letter?"
Auror Jones sat up further. "The letter implied a threat on your life if he didn’t stop trying to investigate the new regime."
"But why me? I’m a pureblood from a pureblood family. Why come after us? We supported the regime."
Auror Williamson snorted. "It’s easier to make someone do what is required of them when someone they love is threatened. It’s easier to coerce someone when their loved one is chained to a wall under threat of torture. Isn’t that right Pansy?"
Fuck! Pansy blanched from the implied threat. They know about Christmas and Easter. I’m going to kill Draco! Bloody Hell!
Auror Jones leaned forward in her chair. "We’re not here to interrogate you about your involvement with Luna Lovegood or her father. We’re here to get information to track down Antonin Dolohov."
"But I’ve already told you what little I know about him!"
"Did you know that he was carrying on an affair with your mother most of the last three years? Did you know that he was her handler and reported on your father back to You-know-Who?"
"Rubbish. Father wouldn’t tolerate it."
Auror Williamson laughed. "Your father’s dalliances were well known around London. He’s had a mistress for decades."
"Father’s different. He’s expected to have a mistress. The rules for pureblood men are different."
"And your mother is expected to remain celibate the whole time? Now that’s outdated."
Pansy scowled. "Hardly. She cared in her own way for him and preferred to be a kept woman. How different is that from most pureblood society women?"
Mackenzie Stokley snorted. "Such brash assumptions you have, Miss Parkinson. I’ve been married for decades and my wife and I have our little games and affairs. We both know our standing but also our discretions. Your father took a mistress soon after they were married. Your mum was most thankful for her when she was pregnant with you and thereafter."
Pansy looked at her solicitor in befuddlement.
"You said Dolohov was your mentor. What do you really know of him?"
"I know that he was English born of Russians immigrants and was sent abroad to Durmstrang to escape the start of the first war."
Auror Jones leaned back in the chair. "You know his history better than I do, Williamson. Why don’t you explain to her the real man behind the mask? Why don’t we tell her the rest of the story?"
Auror Williamson opened his satchel and brought out a leather bound dossier. He thumbed through it for a second before looking up at the Solicitor and Pansy before him. He handed it over to Pansy for her to read.
She looked at Stokley. "Why not?"
She tore into the handwritten notes in the dossier.
-----
"His grandparents died during the Muggle World War. His grandfather was on the front lines in Moscow while his grandmother fell to starvation in 1945. The other siblings of his mother either died in the war or of the rampant starvation during that time. That left his Great Uncle Pyotr to care for his niece Galina as best as possible. They left Russia and made their way to Romania where they stayed a few years.
"What he neglected to mention was that his uncle Pyotr was a Voldemort supporter from the late 40s. From what we gather, they met in Romania while Voldemort was recruiting supporters once he left England. Uncle Pyotr was one of the first of Riddle’s followers, but also the most circumspect. He was a local commissar for the Communists, but few knew that he was a Wizard, too. He was rather adept at memory charms so we can gather. Riddle’s task for him was simple - recruit and wait for the signal. He didn’t mind. He was sick of Muggles at that point and wanted to find a way of avenging his family from the traitors and vermin as he saw them - especially the wizards who willingly helped Muggles.
"Meanwhile Galina caught the eye of a Russian mercenary named Vasily Sergeiovich Dolohov around 1954 or so. The details are fuzzy since our sources couldn’t verify all of our questions. Suffice to say, Galina and Pyotr had a falling out and Galina ran away with Vasily to get married. Galina didn’t care that Vasily was a mercenary, a wizard for hire for any nefarious operation. She only wanted out of the Eastern Bloc and a new life. He was her ticket to a new life.
"They left Romania and immigrated to Albania in 1953. Unfortunately Pyotr tracked them down there. Pyotr didn’t approve of Vasily nor of her marriage and was enraged at her now apparent pregnancy. There was a dual and Vasily won, but Galina begged him not to kill her uncle. They ran, spent much of his money and boarded a steamer for England. They hid like the Muggles they held in disdain. They landed in Portsmouth a month later.
"Uncle Pyotr stayed in Albania. He found the women willing, the magic open and accepted, and the climate more his liking. He still recruited for Riddle and biding his time.
"They stayed in Portsmouth where Vasily was able to do freelance contract mercenary work for the English criminal network. He didn’t care what the job was - from assassination to running illegal potions to Muggle trafficking. All he cared about was being paid and his son. From what we gather, he loved Antonin even if he wasn’t that fond of his wife. But they were married and kept the bonds. It didn’t mean that Vasily settled into domesticity. Far from it. He was known around south England as a wand for hire - and his only loyalty was in galleons. Protection rackets, Muggle smuggling, murder for hire - it didn’t matter. His true master was wealth. He worked hard and lived hard.
"He picked the wrong warehouse to infiltrate one night and came across Aurors on stakeout. A fierce fight broke out and Vasily died in a duel in 1960. He left behind Galina to raise Antonin by herself. Her English wasn’t that good but she fought to raise him right."
"Well, around that time, Voldemort was providing more influence in England. He was gathering more supporters and criminal actions were increasing. The murder of Muggles was harder to hide from the normal populace. Galina heard the rumors and decided that she wanted her son away from the growing problems in England and sent her son to Uncle Pyotr who sent him off to Durmstrang for his education.
"What Galina didn’t realize was Uncle Pyort was still a Voldemort supporter and found a willing recruit in Antonin. Young Antonin was sick of the poverty they lived in following his father's death and found Uncle Pyotr’s lifestyle preferable. He wanted power and wealth and saw that his uncle had such. All that it took was some work on his part and he’d be as comfortable and successful. Running illegal potions was his first task outside of school. Then he was a heavy for his uncle’s extortion racket. Then he moved onto extortion himself. Within a month after his fourth year, he was an accomplished student of Eastern European criminal activities. He was a skilled dualist and rumored to have killed someone in another duel.
"Suffice to say by the time Antonin returned to Great Britain after finishing his education abroad he was ready for the next step. Before Dolohov took his Portkey to London, he killed his uncle Pyotr. By the time the Albanian authorities discovered his death, Dolohov was already out of the country. They issued a warrant for his arrest, but they could never capture him. He resurfaced a couple of years later in London ready to join forces with Riddle. Riddle wouldn’t accept him until he made another kill - to prove his loyalty to the Dark Lord."
"He made contact with Avery and Rookwood and settled into the criminal network here. From what we know, Dolohov knew to contact Avery from his uncle’s contact book. But he had one more task to fulfill before he was branded a legitimate Death Eater."
-----
Pansy looked up from the dossier in her hands. "There’s nothing else in this file."
Auror Jones finished sipping on her tea. "That’s because I have the rest of his recent history. That starts with the disappearance of his mother."
Pansy sat on the edge of her chair, silent to hear the narrative continue. An epiphany hit her like a stunner. "Oh dear Merlin, he didn’t."
"He supposedly did. She vanished without a trace after Dolohov returned to England. A missing persons report was filed but nothing was done about it. Portsmouth police couldn’t explain how a woman in a locked apartment completely vanished. MLE looked into it and found a killing curse was performed in her flat, but without a body there wasn’t much that could be done. The Aurors filed it as a missing person cold case and it was left at that."
"For years he was a wanted man, on the continent, at least, but kept a low enough profile in England. There was a warrant for his arrest here for various petty crimes, but he always got away. He didn’t show up on our radar until 1981 when he was implicated and caught for the deaths of Fabian and Gideon Prewett."
"Should I know that name? What makes them so important?"
Both Aurors smiled at one another. "Fabian and Gideon Prewett were related to the Weasley's."
Pansy sat there stoic once again. What the fuck have I gotten into?
"We’re surprised that your father didn’t tell you that story. It seems that in 1981, five Death Eaters ambushed Gideon and Fabian Prewett when they were out on a raid one night for Magical Law Enforcement. They were Aurors, but on loan due to the shortages in MLS during the First Wizarding War. Anyway, it was five on two and the Prewett brothers took down three Death Eaters before one of the brothers fell. The other one stood his ground protecting his brother’s remains trying to escape. Dolohov wounded him with his patented purple flame curse and the second brother went down. He performed the coup de grace on the other brother before fleeing with Rookwood.
"He was caught a couple of weeks later and sentenced to Azkaban for his murder of the Prewett brothers. Shortly thereafter, as you know, Riddle disappeared following the murder of Harry Potter’s parents."
"Many years passed before problems started again. Dolohov was part of the mass breakout from Azkaban in 1996 along with the Lestranges and the others. He didn’t wait long to pick up where he left off. In his wake were extortion, mayhem and murder. How he stayed sane in there I’ll never know.
"Anyway, that was when he returned and seduced your Mum. She was lonely from our information and found him attentive and willing. Your father knew about it and was amenable. His flat in London was her place of residence many an evening when your father was working."
Pansy shook her head in light of the growing revelations.
"Anyway, he was captured again during the fight at the Ministry of Magic. You might remember that one from the news articles. That was the day that Harry Potter was first vindicated for the return of You-Know-Who. Fudge saw him standing there in the atrium of the Ministry before vanishing once again. Your father had the morning edition out in hours, even with the news breaking so late."
Pansy looked down at her hands and saw them gripping the armrests. She willed her fingers to loosen from their grip and barely managed to let go.
"It was determined at his next trial that he fought in the Ministry, dueling the likes of interim Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror Tonks, retired Auror Moody, and others. But what he was incarcerated for once again was that blasted purple flame curse on Hermione Granger. Witnesses gave written testimony that he nailed her with that and she nearly perished from it. It wasn’t an unforgiveable curse but it was close enough."
"Anyway, you know most of the rest in the last two years. You’ve read the papers and such."
Pansy nodded in affirmation.
"Mistress Pansy?"
Pansy looked to the doorway to see Ezzy standing there with a parchment parcel in her small hands. She motioned for the house elf to come forward with it.
"This arrived a couple of minutes ago via owl. It’s addressed to Auror Jones. I thought it might be important."
The diminutive house elf handed over the parcel to the Auror in the first seat. She waved her wand over the package before unwrapping the twine and paper over it. She quickly read the notes inside it and then looked up over the top of the package.
"Your father has been found."
Pansy felt something break inside. "He’s dead, isn’t he?"
Auror Jones nodded. "He was found this morning sitting in his chair at the Prophet with… well, it’s rather gruesome from what this report says."
Anger was washing over her. "Damn it, tell me everything."
Auror Jones turned stoic. "From reading the report here, he had two quick quills stuck through his eyes, his tongue ripped out and his bits removed. It appears he had been dead a few hours when he was found."
Her world crumbled in an instant. Her head fell forward, cradled into her hands. "Daddy," Pansy whimpered behind her hands. "Please forgive me."
"There is a letter in here, addressed to you. We’ll need it back but you are welcome to read it here."
Pansy took the parchment letter into her hands. They shook violently.
Pansy:
What happened the last two weeks wasn’t directed at you. Know that now. You were a pawn like the rest of us. I chose to follow the Dark Lord for my own reasons.
What happened to your Mum was business. She was a loose end that had to be wrapped up. I didn’t love her. She didn’t love me. But she was a pleasant companion for a time and a comfort in the war that just happened. I’m regret that had to happen to her.
Your father wasn’t killed by my choice. He was caught by Snatchers. They brought him to the Manor. A wand at my back forced my hand and I was directed to interrogate him. It looks like he suffered, but he didn’t. I broke him immediately so he wouldn’t realize the depths and intensity of his torture. He died the same day he was brought to us and was already dead before he was desecrated. The charm he was kept under was for effect. I’m sure the Aurors will realize it once they look close enough.
I’ve enclosed in the other parchment for the Aurors that you were coerced by me to do what you did to the Lovegoods - and against Malfoy. That document should protect you. They now know that you were forced - imperioed like your mum - to do my bidding. You were my student and you learned well even if you loathed the lessons. I broke the charm when the siege on Hogwarts started. It was the most I could do for you at the time - to protect you.
But he didn’t imperio me, did he? Pansy turned her eyes back to the parchment in her hands.
Snape is dead by the Dark Lord’s hands. Bellatrix is dead and so is the Dark Lord. Before writing this I was informed Rodolphus is dead along with Fenir and Alecto. I don’t have time to verify this gossip. The remaining supporters know to leave you be upon pain of death. I made that abundantly clear: You aren’t to be touched for any reason on my authority. Rowle learned that lesson the hard way.
I will not be returning to England so you won’t see me again. I won’t ask for your forgiveness. What I did was business and not personal. Blame me for how fucked up your life is now. That’s the price I paid for chasing galleons and power.
I tried to protect you from the choices I made and teach you how to deal when there was no choice. Between me and Snape I think you can handle what comes.
You are free to live as best as possible. Remember your lessons and endure as best as possible.
AD
Pansy started laughing.
"What’s so funny Miss Parkinson?"
Pansy handed over the letter to Stokley for his analysis.
"Ruddy bastard," she muttered under her breath before she could catch her words. "You destroyed everything in my life while chasing galleons and now because of you, all I have left in my life are my galleons. Galleons won’t keep me warm at night, selfish git. Some reward I earned, huh? 30 pieces of silver would have tasted better."
-----
For the Love of Pansy (Round 1) Masterlist