Those Wrong, Yet it's Right, Things

Chapter 13

If you're going to walk on thin ice, you might as well dance.

~Anonymous

By Sunday, the Order had successfully transferred Pansy to her own room out of the dungeons and made sure her vault, with more than enough money for her to survive on, was successfully off-limits to her parents. Instead of pawning Draco's ring, Pansy had left it on his desk with no further explanation.

She was on her way to the Astronomy tower now that the sun had set, to get a head start on her homework. Since the homework wasn't due for another two weeks she figured she'd be the only one there. Pansy hated that she always seemed to be wrong lately.

Low and behold the moment she stepped onto the observation deck a black-haired boy turned to face her.

"You?" she spat.

He cracked that stupid grin of his. "Me."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'd ask you the same thing,"--he glanced towards the bundle of papers resting on her hip--"but judging by the parchment under your arm and recent realization that you aren't stupid, it's obvious you've drug your astronomy homework up here."

Pansy glanced down at the paper under her arm before nodding. Realizing Harry didn't have anything with him, she raised her eyebrow and responded, "you're obviously not up here doing your homework. What are you doing?"

"Waiting for it to rain," Harry said, smiling at her before he turned away again. Cursing the slight curve her lips took--damn thing keeps doing that--she walked over and sat on the ground beside him, crossing her legs underneath her.

"You know that German muggle Albert Einstein?" Harry nodded, surprised she knew him. Seeing the shock in his eyes, Pansy quickly explained, "My cousin's favorite class was Muggle Studies. I'm the only one who knows that of course. He taught me muggle Christmas Carols even and we'd sit around and sing those when I got to see him. No one's ever made me laugh so hard." A genuine smile tried to break through.

"Anyway," she continued, snapping back from memory lane. Bowing her head she mentally scolded herself for revealing those memories. Cheeks flushing madly from honest embarrassment, Pansy ran her hand through her hair and continued, "he...Albert Einstein, I mean...once said 'There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle'."

"I think I remember one of my teacher's reciting that in grade school," Harry added, nodding. "How do you look at life, Pansy Parkinson?"

She swallowed thickly and answered before she had time to second guess sharing the truth with him. "I used to look at it as though nothing was special. But tonight I do believe these stars are the most beautiful sight I've ever seen."

Pansy set down her homework and tucked her knees up under her chin, cradling them. Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, Harry fought the urge to laugh. If only she knew how childish she looked. And that's when it hit him. He felt more relaxed around Pansy then he had around anyone else since Sirius died.

"Yeah," Harry said, his eyes still lingering on her, before they snapped back up to the sky, resting on the constellation of a canine, "it is beautiful tonight."

"And how do you look at life, Harry Potter?" Pansy asked, braving a glance at him.

"It's all a risk, Parkinson; all of it." Pansy snorted at his Snape-like impression, but quickly covered her slip-up with a slight cough, listening intently to the rest of his opinion.

"At any moment you could die without the chance to say goodbye to it all. Every second holds the possibility of someone you care about leaving. Yet we all wake up in the morning, willing to take the risk."

Pansy shivered and pulled her cloak tighter around her, wishing she had chosen more appropriate attire. Harry saw but pretended he didn't. Though most would consider it uncouth, she was secretly glad he didn't act chivalrous and offer her his cloak.

"You know what, Potter? You might not be so bad after all."

"Coming from you that's an enormous compliment," Harry said, turning to look at her. He'd never seen her more beautiful then he did in that moment. Once again, it was no secret that Pansy Parkinson wasn't that pretty with her scrunched up face and small, flat nose. But as she sat there buried in her cloak, knees cupping her chin, her nose and cheeks and ears tinged red from the cold, he didn't think the stars were nearly as beautiful anymore.

"Don't get used to it, Harry, darling," she said, a slight smile slipping through, though she struggled to hold it in. Harry smiled. He remembered the way he practically fell over Cho Chang, always uncomfortable and nervous when she was around. But when Harry was around Pansy he was more true to himself then he even was around Ron. That's when Harry's mind wandered into a realization and he stood abruptly, feeling a bit suffocated.

"You alright, Harry?" They both jumped a little at the caring words that emitted from her.

"Yeah, fine." Pansy stood up beside him, her astronomy homework forgotten on the cold cement. Trying to forget her comment, she gracefully walked to the balcony and dangled the top half of her body over the edge, staring into the black abyss below.

"He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you." The whispered words left the girl's lips in white wisps, floating off into the air, heard, but not understood by the lonely observer.

"There will only be more deaths before this war is over," she stated, still draping dangerously over the balcony. She suddenly pulled herself back onto two firm feet and gathered her things. "I see no sense in making things more painful for either of us."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry had regained his composure but Pansy could see a slightly shaking hand--she knew it wasn't caused by the cold--protruding from his too short winter cloak sleeves.

"Look, we can be acquaintances, okay? But these late night rendezvous' have got to stop." Standing a little too prideful, Pansy started towards the exit, nearly tripping over an untied shoelace on the way.

"Why?" His words almost sounded frantic as he followed her quick steps. "Because you're afraid you actually might care about someone and you would hate to suffer a loss most will?"

Without turning around Pansy licked her lips and shot back, "I've told you before, Potter, you are way too conceited." She was within reach of the door. Keep going, Parkinson.

"You just can't handle it that you might have feelings for me, can you?"

"Again, 'conceited' comes to mind...." Her hand was closing around the door handle, her breath a bit shallow, her head pounding.

"Pansy...."

"Look, Potter, you think just because every girl in the wizarding world fawns over you means I have to? I'm sorry to break it to you, but you're not exactly my type." By now she was facing him again, her hair slightly astray from all her fast movements.

"And what is your type? Tall, blonde, and very egotistical?"

"Except for the blonde part you've just described yourself," she spat.

He stepped off the threshold to the balcony where he'd been standing and took two long strides nearer to her. "You're just afraid."

"You always say that."

"And it's always true. You're afraid that you might feel the same way I do."

Pansy snapped her eyes up to meet his. His green orbs were surprised at his own words but he stood confidently, knowing he had spoken honestly.

Hesitating, Pansy took a step away from the support of the tall, oak object. "And how's that, Harry?"

"That maybe you're not just putting up with me either."

In seconds her cool demeanor slipped back on and she whispered in her most menacing voice, one that sent Harry chills down his spine, "I'm leaving." And she really did turn to go.

He smirked. He wasn't letting her go without a fight. For once Pansy Parkinson would say what she was really feeling.

"What's wrong, Pansy? Something doesn't go according to plan and you decide to run?"

"Nothing in my fucking life has gone according to plan lately, in case you haven't noticed!" she shrieked. Huffing, trying to rid her voice of the whiny tone it used to have, she continued, "Have I not done enough? I've given up my family, my fiancée, my whole future for you and your stupid Order. What else do you want from me, Harry?" Pansy didn't like the feeling in her stomach, the spinning in her mind; she needed to lie down.

The waning moon burst through the balcony doorway, sending shadows bouncing around the room. Half of Pansy's face sat in darkness, half in a ghostly, eerie light. Her visible blue eye masking any emotions carefully, just like she'd always been taught. Harry moved his gaze to her fumbling fingers and saw how uncomfortable she was standing there having this conversation. As he closed the space between them, she halted her shifting feet.

Harry's sweet, baritone voice filled the room. "I want you to tell me you don't feel the same way."

Pansy was trying so hard to slow her rapid breathing, to avoid the wrenching pain in her gut, to shut out the pesky voices in her head, that it took a minute before his words registered.

"I don't," Pansy said, conviction in her voice. Turning this time, fully determined to leave and not look back, she efficiently steadied her breathing. But just as she started to twist the doorknob, a hand curled itself around her arm, slightly above her elbow, and spun her around. Several astronomy papers fell to the floor carelessly and Pansy's mind went completely numb. All thoughts ceased--except a quick I hate you, Potter--as Harry's chapped lips met contently with hers.