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Lost Blood: The Tale of Pansy's Two Princes by Novadestin

Format: Short story
Chapters: 3
Word Count: 4,536
Status: COMPLETED

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme

Genres: Drama, Romance
Characters: Dumbledore, Draco, Pansy, Skeeter, OtherCanon
Pairings: Draco/Pansy, Other Pairing

First Published: 09/16/2007
Last Chapter: 12/27/2007
Last Updated: 12/15/2010

Summary:


*darkladyofslytherin's 'A Very Slytherin Challenge: Pansy' challenge mixed with faerieall's 'Interhouse pairings' challenge, miss_remus's 'Non canon pairings' challenge, PhoenixRoseQueen's 'Pansy Parkinson' challenge, and xox's 'Forbidden Love' challenge* He had seen the paper, knew what would happen, and asked the Headmaster for help. Then he had gone to find her. He had gone to find her.


Chapter 1: Changing of the Guard
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Muggle gambling. Of all the ways her father could have lost their fortunes, why did it have to be connected to them? Why couldn’t it be something great like a donation to You-Know-Who’s cause? But this was not ordinary muggle gambling, this was muggle gambling run by wizards; a far more dangerous and illegal activity.

With ordinary muggle gambling you had ordinary people coming after you to collect debts. But with it run by wizards there was no ‘hit man,’ there was simply a signature.

A signature on a contract that stated you would pay back what you owed in full by any means necessary. And they meant that, there was no hiding from the legality of that contract. While the going’s on might be illegal to the ministry, the contracts were binding. It was the ministry’s little oversight to keep things in check. As if keeping the bitter finale legal would somehow deter people from playing.

And, of course, her father had promised them everything but his next born child. They lost their money, their house, and almost all of their possessions. But worst of all, they lost their good name.

Granted it wasn’t good in the ‘righteous’ sort of way, but anything in their ‘society’ linked with that kind of activity was tainted. Tainted to the point of being shunned but still kept around so they could humiliate you again and again.

Something Pansy hated her father for because she still had two years of school left. How could he do this to them? Her mother had had barely enough money in her own name to buy her new school supplies. She only hoped that no one at school had heard, that their parents hadn’t somehow found out their secret, and she wanted to keep it that way.

As she sat in her second class of the year she wondered how many kids in Slytherin, her house, had parents who might have found out and were waiting for the right moment to use it against them. Surely by now someone must have discovered the truth and told the others, a thought that terrified Pansy on multiple levels. But it wasn’t like anything was sacred to them. They would even call each other mudbloods when they knew it wasn’t true just to insult each other.

That’s just the way things were, the way power worked. Her world was dangerous and petty and lurid, but it was high class. It was the best. She was a Slytherin, she was expected to be rich and powerful and influential. But now she had lost all those things, now she was nothing. All because of her stupid father.

Yet, after several more weeks, everything seemed like it might be ok. No one at school had said anything and she hadn’t heard any rumors. Plus her mother and her grandparents were getting all the debt settled so that she might actually have a home to go to at the end of the year.

A small muggle apartment was like living in a dumpster to her, but it was better than asking any of the other families for help. The shame that would come with it would be unbearable. So for now she did the best she could to help. She asked all her friends for money for Christmas, saying she was saving for some new something-err-other, and sent her mother anything she made from her side project of doing homework for cash.

It wasn’t something she normally did, but now was not a time to be haughty. She needed to stay away from the other Slytherins, from their conversations. As much as she couldn’t tell them the truth, she couldn’t be caught lying to them either. Insult to injury that would only amount to them not speaking to her at all. No putdowns, no jokes, not even a rude remark. Just simple, damning isolation. She would rather suffer under the torture curse before she let that happen.

Fate is a cruel mistress though and Pansy wasn’t even dating her. Her father’s misfortune had not gone entirely hidden and now Fate’s advanced guard was staring at her from across the room. Rita Skeeter was not here to talk about the dress her mother had worn to the Malfoy’s spring ball. She was here to destroy her family and act chipper while doing it.

“Please, I’m begging you! Just leave my family’s name out of the story!” Pansy knew she would publish the story regardless of what she said, but she pleaded for her to change that one detail. One detail that her very existence teetered on.

“My dear that would be covering up the facts. I couldn’t possibly do that to my readers,” sweet like a bee sting, her words were the trigger to Pansy’s humiliation.

Nothing could stop it now, not even several letters to the editor of the Daily Prophet. How had she found out anyway? While the contract was legal and they had taken everything, they always did it in private. They may be ruthless, evil pureblood sharks, but they at least let you keep your respect. If you let someone find out what happened, the humiliation was your own fault.

Mostly this was to keep people from revealing any information about the ‘going’s on’ in their establishment, sort of a ‘we’ll let you keep your dignity if you keep your mouth shut’ thing. But once that dignity was lost, anyone who mentioned a word about what happened to anyone was always found dead the next day in a gutter. So not only did they have to lose their dignity with having all their wealth gone, they had to think up a good reason on why it was gone. Something that usually caused even more degradation and often led to suicide.

But her father was strong. Strong enough to take the blame and have a completely personal and humiliating story to blame. He would lose his wealth, his daughter, and his wife but everything would be ok.

Now Rita Skeeter would destroy that, she would be the cause of death for her whole family. Once the higher ups saw her father’s name in the Daily Prophet, they would think he had talked and he would be ‘taken care of.’ And anyone he had links with would have to be dealt with, meaning her mother would be tortured for no reason other than loving a stupid man.

Pansy cried. She was sitting at the Slytherin table for breakfast but now she no longer cared. The Daily Prophet had just landed in front of her. The Daily Prophet with the blazing headline ‘Muggle Gambling claims Parkinson Wealth by Rita Skeeter.’ Draco, at her side, read the headline and grabbed for the paper.

Laughter filled her ears as her hair stuck to her cheeks, wet from her tears. Pansy hid her face with her hair as she hung her head, the insults and ruthless taunts were coming at her from all directions. That is, all but one. Draco sat silently reading the article and then folded it neatly when he was finished.

There was no snide comment, no hurtful remarks; he simply stood up and walked away from her. He moved from his seat next to her at the head of the table to the middle, next to a girl Pansy had never really liked. The girl sneered at her and smiled at Draco. Pansy just cried.

It was a trick she got good at over the next few hours, crying so much that her eyes nearly bled from the continued attempts. But there was nothing to keep her going now, nothing but the memories.

She had hidden herself in one of the corners of the library, near the section on muggle government. No one would bother her there, she could decay in peace. No one, of course, except one boy.

“Pansy?” he spoke her name as if he really cared, stupid Hufflepuff.

“Go away Justin, you’re not welcome here,” she said rudely and turned closer to the place where the two walls met.

“Seems to me this is a public section,” he said calmly and kneeled in front of her.

“Fine be a jerk,” she scowled and got up to leave, almost knocking him over.

“Pansy wait,” he had hold of her arm. How dare he hold her arm! “I didn’t mean to upset you but I think I might be able to help.”

“Help? Help! My Family is surely dead by now thanks to that bitch Rita Skeeter and I am completely forgotten! What more could you possibly do to make my day more peachy?” She was vicious, spitting her words at him as if he was just another Draco. Just another man who had let her down.

But he still held her arm. “My aunt lost everything because of her gambling problem, even tried to take my family down with her. It was hell I know, but nothing is going to let me sit back and watch it happen to you. Come on.”

And he put his arm around her. Without hesitation and without effort, and Pansy gave in completely. He became her prince, her knight, as he shielded her from all the comments of passing students as they walked to a destination she did not know.

But it was alright.

She was expecting him to take her back to the Slytherins, back to be spurned. Sort of an anti-prince to be sure, but it would be okay to dream while it lasted. Not like she had any hope left in her anyway. Yet as each comment grazed her ears, his grip on her shoulder tightened and her head leaned more into his shoulder.

When they finally did stop, Pansy almost jumped at the scary gargoyle statue that faced her; it was the Headmaster’s office. And he was waiting for them; apparently this was all preplanned by Justin.

He had seen the paper, knew what would happen, and asked the Headmaster for help. Then he had gone to find her. He had gone to find her.

"Your parents have been found alive and well. I have seen to it that they be placed in hiding for their protection. We will sort this mess out Miss Parkinson don’t worry. I have spoken to your father and he has assured me of the true nature of your losses.” True nature? Her father had told his lie to Dumbledore and he had accepted it? This was not a dream, her prince was real.


Chapter 2: The Power of a Dream
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Author’s Note: This is a dream sequence so please refrain from telling me I got things wrong, they're supposed to be.





It was raining. The wind was pushing it slightly sideways and it felt cool against her fevered skin.

The match had been intense. Hufflepuff and Slytherin both vying for the cup, both using tactics that had made her yell so loud she had lost her voice. But she didn’t care. Her mind was on the feeling of the rain as it ran down her neck and soaked through her robes.

Someone rushed past her, followed by several others and she had to focus her eyes before she realized it was the students returning to the castle after the match. They all looked so very odd in the rain. Was it the rain that made all the Slytherins’ faces look distorted and gruesome or was that their sour moods? The Hufflepuff’s all seemed to be smiling, welcoming her to join in their chanting.

“Ho-rah Hufflepuff!” They chanted over and over, the sound of it ringing in her ears until she could no longer contain the enthusiasm she felt and joined in with them. It felt so right, being out in the rain celebrating a great victory.

The other Slytherins looked at her crossly with their disfigured faces, but her mind did not focus on them. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, these people were her friends and the ones she had to answer to, but her focus did not waver from the welcoming celebration of the yellow and bronze crowd that now circled around her.

“Ho-rah Hufflepuff!” The chant sounded again and she joined in the dizzying cheer even though her voice was hoarse from the match.

The Slytherin team stalked past her and she caught sight of blond hair that looked almost white in the rain. Draco. He didn’t even stop for her. He didn’t even glance over. She wasn’t bothered. Her boyfriend, perhaps the love of her life, had completely disregarded her and she felt as if there had been a weight lifted from her chest and she was now free to delight in the celebrating Hufflepuffs.

Their victorious team ran past her and the rush of wind caused her robes to rustle even under the weight of the rain. They were still wearing their Quidditch robes and the mud that the storm had created now spattered them out of their previously clean state. But they didn’t care.

Pansy marveled at this. Appearance fell to second and pleasure in one’s friends became the primary facet of stature. Her eyes watched the crowd of hugging and cheering Hufflepuffs until she suddenly found herself face down in the mud of the storm. She rolled over.

The gruesome and distorted faces of her own Slytherin housemates stared down at her, laughing. All the celebration, all the joy, all the rain vanished from her senses and was replaced by their jeering.

She felt something inside her tighten and she grabbed at her robes, trying to stop whatever it was that was cutting off her breath, making her gasp for air. She suddenly felt panic, shame, and tried to turn herself away from her mocking housemates. She tried to find the storm again, tried to find the feverish jubilation she had lost.

Instead, a hand found hers and a piece of fabric began wiping the dirt from her face. A pair of brown eyes looked back into hers and the face of her new savior smiled at her. It was Justin Finch-Fletchly, the lead Hufflepuff chaser.

He lifted her up from the ground where she had fallen and they began to walk back towards the castle, she could hear the sounds of celebration growing louder as they went.

But they never made it to the large wooden front doors. The rain started up again and she was pressed up against a wall on the side of the castle. Justin pressed up against her, his weight gently holding her in place.

She felt his hand run through her hair and she thought of Draco. Justin’s hair was full and thicker then Draco’s although it looked identical in the rain. His eyes watched her with an intensity that Draco had never been able to manage and his muscles held her in such a way that she felt far safer. They shivered in the cold…or was it her touch?

She felt his lips travel down her neck in a path Draco’s never took, the sensation causing warm chills to rush down to her toes and up her spine. It felt amazing.

And the rush of desire she felt as his fingers brushed her stomach caused her to grip his shoulder so hard that her nails dug into his skin. He snickered at her reaction and slowly let his hand move farther up her shirt…

….and then she opened her eyes.

Chapter 3: Imperfect Circle
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Author’s Note: I actually do what to expand on this but at this moment I don’t have time. Maybe in the future…





Pansy didn’t know exactly when she had fallen asleep, but her dream had startled her awake. Something about the way Justin had looked at her in the dream had made her wake in a sweat. He had never looked at her that way before; her mind must be making up fantasies for her.

Fantasies for which her body surprisingly lusted but her head rebelled against. “No, I will not fall for a Hufflepuff! Much less a mudblood!” Pansy told herself heatedly.

But it was not the kind of heat she was trying to muster. This was body heat not anger; this was something she had never felt with Draco.

Draco had always been a cold man, both in public and in private. Pansy knew he cried, knew when he was upset, but never would he allow her to openly know that. Instead he hid everything from her and tended to only treat her affectionately when it suited his purposes.

Pansy had always known she was more of a servant to Draco’s needs than a girlfriend, that’s just how things were in the pureblood world. Yet, with Justin…with Justin…

She couldn’t think. How could she think anything about the man who had actually treated her kindly and with respect after everything that had happened?

When the Headmaster had ordered them to bed, he had walked her back to the main hall, he had asked if she would be ok. In the course of one evening, she had found a new court, a new high class society, in the savior of the muggles and a mudblood.

Such an abrupt turn around had felt Pansy completely perplexed, so much so that she barely registered the intense loathing of the other Slytherins when she returned to the common room.

Pansy remembered that she had immediately climbed into bed, but still could not recall when she had finally succumbed to sleep. The last thing she could remember thinking was how this was all so new to her.

She had always been a Death Eater’s daughter. She had always been slytherin who tormented muggles and mudbloods because they didn’t deserve their magical gifts. She had always been the ring leader of the Slytherin’s top girls. The high class girls who ran the school and made sure Salazar’s wishes were carried out.

But now she, Pansy Parkinson, was at the bottom of the social ladder. She wasn’t even on the ladder; she was the dirt it sat on. She had become the person she used to walk all over. Her prince was no longer Draco, a fellow slytherin and pureblood she thought had cared for her, it was a Hufflepuff. And not just any Hufflepuff, it was Justin Finch-Fletchy, a boy she had tormented on multiple occasions with Draco and their friends.

How could he even have thought to help her after everything she had done to him? It was almost as confusing as figuring out what her father would do once his lie was out. She didn’t want to lose him, but he had brought it on himself, he had done this to their family.

Everything in her life had changed and Pansy had not even done anything to facilitate it. Her father, the man she had based all her beliefs in men on, had now destroyed her and cost her the other man in her life that she thought meant something. How could life turn out to be so fickle and easily broken?

Pansy rolled over. It was still dark out but she had been in her four poster bed for hours before the others so she was wide awake now. The clock on her bedside table read 4:57 AM. Too early to get up and leave the common room but also too late for her to fall back asleep, not that she could anyway. The only thing she could do was lay under her covers and anguish about the day to come.

Rita Skeeter would never recant her story Pansy knew that, so she tried to imagine how she would get used to her new life at the bottom of the barrel.

The surprising thing though, was that she didn’t really seem to mind. Something about her dream had stuck with her and now Pansy was seeing everything in a new light. Perhaps she had lost everything but after the reactions were Draco and her friends really worth hurting over? Their allegiances had changed so quickly towards her, why should she bother crying over them? Besides, she had discovered a strong person in Justin who, despite having been at the other end of her crude comments, had rode up like a knight on horseback to save her without the slightest reason other than she had needed it.

Pansy beat her fist against the bed, she wasn’t about to let those capricious people have such a strong hold on her. She threw the covers off and stood triumphantly in the dark, silent dormitory. All the other girls lay fast asleep around her and for just a moment she thought viciously of hexing them. In the end however she decided her new path was against that and so only got dressed in some of her favorite school robes.

She hadn’t worn them in weeks because there was a hole in one of the sleeves and she thought it distasteful to wear ratty clothes. Now Pansy was just enjoying the comfort of them against her skin, like hugging an old baby blanket and remembering all the adventures you used to have.

Pansy spun around stupidly in the dormitory and laughed quietly to herself, what did she care anymore? It was time to start her new life and so she exited the common room and absentmindedly roamed the corridors until the main hall was opened for breakfast. She took her usual spot at the head of the Slytherin table ad ignored the smug looks of the other Slytherin’s as they sat down nearer to the other end of the lengthy table.

She sat up straighter and caught Justin’s eye as he sat down across the room at the Hufflepuff table. He gave her a small tilt of his head to ask if everything was alright and Pansy nodded. Everything was going to be alright.

Then the paper fell onto her plate, squishing the mound of eggs she had just been eating. Pansy didn’t take the bite that was on her fork nor did she note that Draco had sat down next to her. The headline had stopped her like a sledge hammer to a clock.

“Peirce Parkinson confession! Muggle Gambling cover up for shameful secret!” by Rita Skeeter.

She’d been right. Everything was going to be alright, just not in the way Pansy had imagined it while lying in her bed a few short hours ago. Everything was going to be alright because everything was going to go back to normal.

Draco sat next to her and said her father was a fool to think the truth wouldn’t come out eventually. As all the boys and girls of Pansy’s ‘gang’ sat around them, they consoled her. Had they only known the truth…how terrible this has been for her…Pansy wanted to vomit. She wanted to cover them in all the lies they were spewing about how they were sorry, about how bad they felt.

Yet as much as she wanted to deck Draco when he took her hand, she didn’t. Her mind was adrift, floating somewhere in a sea filled with the minds of other lost teenage girls who could not begin to fathom an answer to the changes in their lives. Still, even in the open waters, each mind was in solitude and Pansy felt very much alone. Everything had been so clear, it would be hard, but her life would have been back in her control.

Now the shackles of her duty to the purebloods sat soaking up the oils from her eggs in front of her. Life would go back to her perfect illusion, only now that dream was tainted. Sure she and her mother would still have no money, no house, no nice expensive things but they would have each other and they would have their Parkinson Status. In the world that Pansy would be growing old in, that’s all that mattered.

Her mind wound in circles faster and faster, much like the muggle cars Draco was so strangely fond of, as she waited for Justin near the muggle government section in the library. As much as she had been certain of her new life, everything had unwound when things turned a full circle in the span of a single day and now she had to end things before they started to unravel again.

“You alright?” he asked, placing a strong hand on her shoulder. “I saw the paper this morning.”

“Yeah, everything’s back to normal I guess.” Pansy saw his expression twitch only slightly and knew what he was thinking. Sadly, she felt the same.

He had been so focused on her through all this that he hadn’t really thought about an outcome were she wouldn’t need him. Yet he still felt that this was the right thing to happen, for her.

“Justin, I,” she didn’t finish, she didn’t want to. It had only been a day and her life had preformed a full turn on its axis. The beginning had become the end but Pansy couldn’t seem to finish.

Rather then force the cutting words out of her reluctant mouth, she launched herself forward, fell into his shocked body and kissed him. After a few seconds of surprise, he held her close and returned the affection. It wasn’t one of those perfect, fantasy kisses you read about; it was sloppy and off key, but they both adored it.

They also both knew it would come with a twinge of regret and felt no surprise when it tapped them on the shoulder. Because this moment, their little secret but not secret, couldn’t last. Once their lips parted, so did they.

“I’m sorry,” Pansy whispered against his chin as he held her, her breathe still caught with his.

“Don’t be. This is exactly how it’s supposed to happen.” Justin let go of her and moved her to arms length before looking into her eyes, “we have our own lives to live.”

He let go of her and for one strangely terrifying moment Pansy thought she had been wrong about his affections for her, perhaps he didn’t feel the same, “doesn’t mean we can’t hold this all close to our hearts though.”

With one last genuine smile, he walked away from her. Pansy felt a swell of remorse as she realized what he was doing. He was letting her go so that her life would be without hassle again, so that she could live the life she was destined to. So that he wouldn’t get in the way of anything. She loved him more for it and hated him just the same for being right. Her place, no matter how she fought it, started and ended with the pureblood mentality.

Such was the state of her life, to protect and honor the ideals she had been raised with but no longer really believed in. Yet that didn’t stop her from doing exactly as Justin had and kept all the memories of him close to her heart.

Even as she, Draco, and their friends teased the Hufflepuffs days later, she smiled at him. And it was of no surprise to her when he smiled back. After all, in her eyes, Justin was still her only real prince.

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