Standing in the Rain

The rain fell from the sky, slowly darkening her dirty blond locks to a dingy brown. The wet pieces of hair clung to her face and neck giving the appearance of a wet rat. She was tempted to call quits and hurry inside but she knew a few days later she would regret it when she didn't have enough money for food or rent. Instead she stepped out from the small covering the doorway provided and sat on a garbage can letting the pouring rain soak through her white shirt, her purple bra showing clearly through.

Hopefully it would attract the men in the passing cars. Maybe they would stop and invite her in for a 'drink'. Looking down the empty street she smiled wryly as she realized it was more likely for a police car to come and run her off the street. Her smile faded as she thought of how much she had changed in a few short months. For years she wouldn't have been able to tell the difference between one silly muggle machine and another. They were all alike in the fact they were devices muggles used to try and duplicate the ease and comfort in which witches and wizards lived in.

Now she was able to name most of the absurd gadgets muggles used. It wasn't something she was proud of. No, quite the opposite. She would have been quite happy to remain in the happy ignorance she had passed the first twenty years of her life in. But experience was the best teacher and she was ignorant no more.

Ignorance is bliss someone once said; she idly wondered what they had learned to come to that conclusion. It must have been dreadful; why else would they come to that conclusion?

A pair of headlights shook her from her thoughts. Automatically she crossed her legs and plastered a seductive smile on her face all the while squinting to see the car approaching through rain. As the SUV drew closer she was bathed in the fake yellow glow coming from the car's lights. How she had come to detest those lights. In the dark when they shone so brightly she would be blind to the person behind the wheel; a smudge of shadow sitting in the driver's seat until they passed and she saw a knowing smile or a disgusted sneer.

My head, it hurts, each day it's getting worse

My looks and smile have now become my curse

Tights lips, red skirt, the never ending street

Big car, little man, my lover for a fee

She watched as the headlights dimmed. It was impossible to distinguish whether the thin shoulders belonged to a frail man or woman. As the car slowed down she was sure it was a male driver. The car came to a stop in front of her and the window slid down she inwardly frowned as a forty year old man greeted her eyes. He had straw coloured hair and dark eyes she couldn't discern the colour of in the dim light. He leaned over the gear shift and smiled. His voice, when it came, was oily and irritating.

"Does a lovely lady like yourself fancy a ride?" and he winked. Inside she shuddered.

So if you see me, will you just drive on by?

Or will I catch a twinkle inside your eye?

And if you want me, well I guess I want you

Oh pretty baby, how could you?

But her disgust didn't show on the outside. Her smile grew as she slowly uncrossed her legs and slid from her perch atop the garbage. She walked over, her hips swaying in the cream corduroys she wore. She opened the doors and stepped up into the leather interior. As he pulled away form the curb, she surveyed her surroundings. He was married, she noted with disgust, or at least she amended, he had kids. Why else would there be stuffed animals scattered over the floor of the jeep.

"So what's your name?" he asked turning left.

"Not telling. Maybe if you're lucky you'll find out later. Yours?"

She watched the thoughts race across his face; should he pursue the subject? He managed to swallow his curiosity and answered her question with a quiet, "Tom."

They filled the silence with idle chatter and she realized he hadn't once spoken of why she was in the car. She suspected this was his first time with a hooker and he was a little nervous. She glanced at his hand. The idiot hadn't even taken off his wedding ring,

When he came to a red light she put her hand on his inner thigh. She watched him shiver. She leaned over, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, "You and I both know why I'm here. My fee is one hundred an hour, one thousand for the whole night. Maybe you oughta pull into a bank." She slid her hand higher. She watched as he gulped and nodded silently. He turned into the nearest bank and quickly got out of the car, leaving her with alone in the car.

"I'll be right back."

She quickly cleaned out the change slot in his car. Really, leaving an unknown woman in your car, alone. Not one of the brightest ideas. But true to his word he was right back. A few minutes later he pulled into a motel and parked far from the entrance. She got out of the car and went over to his side. She slid her arm around his waist and he tensed slightly.

"Relax." She murmured, leading him to the seedy front entrance. He paid for the room, his hands fumbling as he handed over the money to the desk clerk. She led him to room indicated, becoming more adventurous with each step. By the time they were at the door her lips were at his neck and her arms wrapped around his waist. He struggled to open the door and when he did, she pushed him inside slamming the door behind her. She pushed him onto the bed. For a moment it looked as if she was going to crawl on after him but instead she reached behind her. Probably to take off the see through shirt, he thought. He was wrong.

Out came her wand and without hesitation she obliviated him. He stared at her blankly as she shot another spell at him.

"Stupefy." He fell backwards onto the bed and lay still. She pulled the shrunken purse from her back pocket, enlarging it. She pulled out the money he'd taken from the bank and filled the bag. Then she leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"My name is Pansy."

Standing in the rain...

Milk carton, mug shot baby missing since 1983

Standing in the rain...

Twenty years of dirty needles raindrops running through my veins

It was still raining when the former Slytherin walked from the building. Whereas it had been pouring when they went, now it was only a light drizzle. She walked slowly to the alley beside the motel and apparated to her apartment. She walked up the stairs to her rooms and opened the door with a flick of her wand. It was a muggle apartment complex so she had no worry about wizards breaking in.

Pansy bent down to pick up the daily prophet an owl had left. Smiling at her from the front page was the boy who lived. The headlines screamed 'Harry Potter wins Lawsuit' in bold letters and in slightly smaller letters 'Nichols sue Potter on false advertisement and pathetic protection.'

After Hogwarts, Harry had started a business to protect wizards' homes. It turned into a million galleon company. Supposedly wizards were incompetent and couldn't protect their own homes. They needed Harry to do it for them. Then came the scandal. Harry Potter was sleeping with his secretary while dating Ginevra Weasley. Pansy Parkinson just happened to be his secretary.

She'd had a crush on Harry since the end of year six and then she'd needed a job and he needed a secretary so she got the job even though their history at Hogwarts had been less than delightful. Then he'd invited her into his office late that Saturday night to work on a case. Her mind was a bunch of nerves and she'd tripped over a cord and fallen into his lap. How clichéd but then he'd leaned in and kissed her.

A few months later it was still going on. She deluded herself into thinking he was single and the reason they were hiding was because he was her boss not to mention she was a former Slytherin and he a Gryffindor. But at the back of her mind she must have known.

From that first kiss she'd stopped reading Witch Weekly which would have told her the latest couples. She'd convinced herself that reading the Daily Prophet was enough to tell her about Harry love life. Even though she knew perfectly well that since Hermione Granger had become editor of the news journal it was hardly likely for her to let trashy articles like that make it into her paper about any couple let alone her best friend. So when Lavender Brown walked in on them in the midst of a passionate kiss she'd run straight to the tabloids and the story came out. Pansy was ruined.

She knew it was her fault but sometimes on a bad day when she channelled her inner bitch she could find a lot of people to place blame upon. Harry, of course; he didn't have to kiss her or he could have stopped it. He was the one dating someone else. But if she traced it deeper she could place blame on her parents. They had become death eaters in Voldemort's second reign. He had demanded they make a will stating that if they were to die all their money (her inheritance) would be given to Voldemort.

They had died. And then Voldemort named Lucius his heir. When Harry Potter defeated Him, all the money went to the Malfoy vaults; leaving Pansy penniless. Lucius refused to give her even a small share of her parents' money; he terminated her betrothal to Draco since she had nothing to offer. Pansy was forced to seek work and given that she hadn't been the smartest witch at Hogwarts it wasn't easy. Finally Harry Potter hired her. And the affair began. Maybe two weeks later Lucius was accused of several counts of murder along with use of the unforgivables. It would have landed him in Azkaban or more likely the dementor's kiss if not for the fact he ran.

They caught him outside Italy and in the crossfire he died. Draco was the head Malfoy now. While Draco didn't want to be married to Pansy he was willing to give her some of the Parkinson's' money back. He was in the legal process of transferring galleons to her vaults when the gossip started. He demanded to know if it was true and she never could lie to him.

He refused to give her a Knut.

Pansy had been fired and now she couldn't find a real job so she became a muggle hooker and stole their money. She fell into her bed her dreams plagued by a certain dark haired wizard with intense green eyes.

My head, it hurts, each day it getting worse

No sun, my room, has now become my hearse

Cold sores, I'm beat, got bruises on my feet

My pride, these men have taken it from me

The next night she was out again. It was still raining. Last night had been good haul and if luck was finally on her side she wasn't going to squander the chance. She sat on ledge of a window until her legs cramped. She stood and walked the length of the street and her hope dropped as not one car drove down the street. It looked like it was a bad night for muggles to be looking for whores. She hear a crack beside; the sound of apparation. Pansy quickly started to concentrate so she could leave. She knew what she was doing was illegal but she needed the money and the muggles could obviously afford it. But the voice stopped her.

"Pansy! Wait!" She froze. That was Harry's voice. She heard his footsteps coming towards her yet her body refused to move. His hand was on her shoulder and he spun her around.

So if you see me, will you just drive on by?

Or will I catch a twinkle inside your eye?

And if you want me, well I guess I want you

Oh pretty baby, how could you?

He was still as handsome as she remembered. The emerald green eyes, messy black hair which at the moment was getting plastered to his forehead, the strong jawline.

His head went down in embarrassment. "Pansy, I know I've been a bastard what with going with you and Ginny at the same time. But I couldn't figure my feelings out. I was going out with Ginny because... well, everyone had expected it since Hogwarts. And then I got to know you and I think... I think I fell in love. But I'm always in the spotlight and what with your parents being death eaters it would have wrecked me. But these last few months have been torture and I know you're mad at me but please just know that I love you."

He said this all very quickly and on the last three words his eyes came up to meet hers. She noticed how the green orbs kept drifting down to her lips before shooting up again.

He wanted to kiss her. So much that he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers without her permission.

Pansy waited for her knees to grow weak. They didn't. No explosions of happiness in the pit of her stomach or tingling in her extremities. Just a pair of cold lips against hers and little raindrops dripping down her back.

She stepped back and looked at him. What did she feel for him? Not love. Not hate. Pansy Parkinson didn't feel anything for the boy who lived. She was indifferent. It was rather refreshing. She drew her finger along his jaw and watched him shiver as a hopeful smile lit his face. She smiled too. Then she apparated.

A journal in America would surely need a gossip reporter. And she had been so good at that in Hogwarts.

Standing in the rain

Milk carton, mug shot baby

Mother I have lost my way...