Harry Potter - Daphne/Pansy - Your misery that softly incites me
Title: Your misery that softly incites me
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Daphne/Pansy
Wordcount: 250
Rating: PG
AN: Title by Epica, Another me
AN: Would've liked to make this longer, but oh the wordcount -.-
Challenge: Drabbletag 7 - hard
Pansy was beyond drunk. She knew that her lipstick was smeared, and one of her shoes was off lying on the ground, but she couldn’t care less. The only thing that mattered to her was that the firewhiskey kept coming, and this it did.
She donned another shot, but sweet oblivion refused to come: She still remembered that the little Greengrass-slut was marrying Draco.
Pansy grunted and fought the urge to throw the glass across the bar.
“I take what she has,” a voice interrupted her thoughts, and Pansy turned to see the big sister of the slut sitting down next to her.
“Who says this seat isn’t taken?” Pansy slurred.
“Please,” Daphne huffed. “Who would be sitting here? I sure as hell know it won’t be Draco,” she said, and Pansy would’ve liked to slap the other woman for that, but the bitter tone in her voice stopped her.
“What is your problem?” Pansy asked confused.
“The problem is my little sister,” Daphne spit and gulped down the alcohol. “Make it double,” she told the barkeeper.
“Shouldn’t you be happy your family teams up with the Malfoys?” Pansy sneered.
“Shut up. What do I get out of this? My little sister married before me, congratulations,” Daphne muttered bitterly and finished her second drink.
Pansy was unexpectedly thankful for the like-minded company, and together they cursed Draco and Astoria and the whole world for their hard fate. (But were also able to find a way to forget everything - together.)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Daphne/Pansy
Wordcount: 250
Rating: PG
AN: Title by Epica, Another me
AN: Would've liked to make this longer, but oh the wordcount -.-
Challenge: Drabbletag 7 - hard
Pansy was beyond drunk. She knew that her lipstick was smeared, and one of her shoes was off lying on the ground, but she couldn’t care less. The only thing that mattered to her was that the firewhiskey kept coming, and this it did.
She donned another shot, but sweet oblivion refused to come: She still remembered that the little Greengrass-slut was marrying Draco.
Pansy grunted and fought the urge to throw the glass across the bar.
“I take what she has,” a voice interrupted her thoughts, and Pansy turned to see the big sister of the slut sitting down next to her.
“Who says this seat isn’t taken?” Pansy slurred.
“Please,” Daphne huffed. “Who would be sitting here? I sure as hell know it won’t be Draco,” she said, and Pansy would’ve liked to slap the other woman for that, but the bitter tone in her voice stopped her.
“What is your problem?” Pansy asked confused.
“The problem is my little sister,” Daphne spit and gulped down the alcohol. “Make it double,” she told the barkeeper.
“Shouldn’t you be happy your family teams up with the Malfoys?” Pansy sneered.
“Shut up. What do I get out of this? My little sister married before me, congratulations,” Daphne muttered bitterly and finished her second drink.
Pansy was unexpectedly thankful for the like-minded company, and together they cursed Draco and Astoria and the whole world for their hard fate. (But were also able to find a way to forget everything - together.)