Those Wrong, Yet it's Right, Things

Chapter 8

He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance, one cannot fly into flying.

~Friedrich Nietzsche

Pansy was released from the hospital wing late afternoon after insisting she didn't need 'help' or need to listen to any lectures they wanted to give her on the 'we know these are tough times, but this isn't the way to handle it...' topic. The whispers that followed her down the hallway weren't heard; her mind was too preoccupied with Harry Potter. She didn't need some Wonder Boy to be her hero. What the fuck was 'you are not alone, Pansy' supposed to mean?

Entering the Slytherin common room, she noted the sympathetic glances and the shaking heads. They couldn't understand. Pansy Parkinson had been in this perfect world her whole life; guaranteed a great future if all she did was play along. Why would she risk it all? They didn't understand. Sadly, she didn't either.

Pansy had been sitting it the hospital wing, the glow of the sun her only comfort, thinking over all her choices: continue to fight this or give in. The lesser had won. Despite her recent surge of independence, she was tired of fighting what was already written in the stars. Let Malfoy have his way! She'd be the perfect Death Eater wife, the perfect companion for the future Dark Lord.

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Wandering down an unknown hallway with no destination in mind, Pansy was again staring at the diamond on her finger. The son of bitch had it waiting on his desk, ready for her to come crawling back to him. Could she be any more predictable? He knew that she had no choice, nothing but certain death in defying him, and despite that she wasn't the prettiest girl in Slytherin, he knew she'd come back to him and he'd make her his--officially.

"So it's true then?" The words startled her and she spun around, straining to find the familiar face in the dark. She could smell him already, his scent intoxicating her, messing with her senses. When she spun back around he was there, sitting on the window ledge up the hallway a bit. Taking careful, proud steps toward him, she chose her words:

"Yes, it is." She studied him, his edifice shadowed in the dusk behind him. Midnight black hair stuck out at odd, frustrated angles and his face was etched with lines of worry, of thought.

"I heard some Slytherin firsties going on about it. Of course I couldn't believe it, especially after what he...he did to you. But now that I see the ring for myself, I guess it must be true. You're engaged to ferretboy himself."

"It's nice to see you're jealous," she rebounded, letting a smirk take hold of her face. He brought his eyes up to meet hers finally, letting a smirk of his own play on his lips.

"That wouldn't be the word I'd use. Try 'disappointed'."

"Not like I was ever trying to impress you."

He was in front of her before she knew it, his years of battle with the Dark Lord proving his gained reflexes. Squandering a startled squeak, she stared defiantly at him, his frame only a few inches above hers. "Why? Why did you do it?" he asked, all emotion quickly hidden, his words austere.

"What does it matter to you?" she spat, finally halting her fiddling with the ring. Uncomfortable in their closeness, she dared to take three small steps back.

Harry barely muttered, "why?"

"I don't have to tell you anything." Pansy turned to leave but Harry grabbed her right above the elbow and held her firm. His grip wasn't power like Draco's. It wasn't hard or painful or demanding. Ignoring her instincts to just run away, Pansy found herself turning to face him.

"Because I didn't have any other choice." Every word was enunciated so that there was no way he couldn't understand, the phrase rhythmic to the firm beating of her heart. Harry released her arm.

"There is always another choice."

Pansy struggled to find his eyes again, needing to see what feelings were battling within, but when the vibrant green pools met hers she nearly jumped back. He was doing it again, hiding his emotions just like a Slytherin; there was nothing in his eyes but a barrier.

"I fight him, I die. I'd rather be unhappy then die unnoticed," she answered finally, truthfully.

"I'd notice if you died."

A silence filled the void between them again. Blue eyes raked over the treetops and blended sunset outside, soaking in the beauty, their owner unwilling to comprehend the last words that had been said. That's when she felt them; Harry's eyes were still on her.

She snapped. "Why are you here, Potter?" Pansy saw a flash of anger in his eyes and decided if she was going to get answers she'd need a different tactic. Sighing in mounting frustration, she let her guards down briefly and choked out, "why can't you just leave me alone, Harry?"

His name sounded forced, foreign on her tongue, but she had said it and purposely too. Harry brought his eyes up to meet hers.

"Because," his voice came out weak and he stood taller to strengthen it, "I can't seem to find the strength to give up on you." When she didn't respond, he continued, "your parents don't choose your life, Pansy. They can't plan the future or mess with fate. Things happen and they have no control over it. Despite what you may believe, you do have a choice. Your future isn't written yet, and it's yours to write."

"For a stupid little famous boy you actually sounded a bit intelligent." Pansy gave him a weak smile to show she appreciated the words before she plunged ahead. "I don't have a choice. That's the truth of it. Just like you don't have a choice. You didn't pick to be who you are. You didn't ask for all this fame. You didn't ask to be the primary target of Vol-Voldemort. It just happened. I didn't choose anything, either. But this is the way it has to be. Like you, it wasn't my choice to make."

For a moment Pansy thought maybe he hadn't heard her, or had simply decided to ignore her. She was just about to leave when he spoke.

"I did have a choice. I could've run away from it all. Left the wizarding world to face Voldemort by themselves. I could've run and not accepted it all. Ran forever and never looked back. But I chose to stay and fight. There's always a choice, Pansy. Sometimes they aren't as easy to see or they're not as easy to make." Harry forced the voicing of caution to the back of his mind and made sure he had captured her eyes. "You do have another choice."

"What? Spend my life in hiding? Live in some cave among Muggles, always afraid that one morning I'll wake up and he'll be there, standing over me, ready to ensure I receive proper punishment? I'd rather bask in luxury." Pansy turned to go, she'd had enough of this stupid argument.

Harry couldn't give up yet. "But you wouldn't be happy. It wouldn't be what you wanted."

Abruptly, she stopped again, unsure of why she did. Who was he to presume what would make her happy?

She turned again and said slowly, "Potter, we can't all get what we want. Sometimes we just have to put up with what we have." She could've left then. Turned on her heel and strode off having the last word. She should have left then. But something held her there, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"But maybe once in your life you should do something for you."

"As appetizing as living off bugs and Muggle scraps sounds, I'd rather put up with Malfoy." Looking him up and down again, her thoughts racing, Pansy tried to find one reason why he was trying so hard. Why was he struggling so much to just get words out? Why were there beads of sweat on his forehead in the cold atmosphere of winter? Why would Harry Potter even be speaking to her? His next words subdued her frantic mind.

"There's another option. Your family wouldn't be able to harm you and I'd make sure Malfoy wouldn't touch you."

Pansy laughed in disbelief. Even the almighty Potter couldn't save her from her family, from Malfoy. Still intrigued in his theory however, she dared to continue the conversation. "What's that, Pot-Harry?"

Harry could see the laughter in her eyes, no doubt thinking he was crazy. This caused Harry to smile.

"Come with me." He held his hand out to her and the twinkle fell from Pansy's eyes, an awkward silence falling around them. The reflection of her ring taunted the corner of her eye while she stared intently at the five inviting fingers. The ring caught the light again, the fingers waggled again. Damn it all.