Reckless

Pansy couldn't bear to respond to anything Ron said as they walked up to Dumbledore's office. It was mind-blowing, that she'd read everything so wrong...she'd been so sure; if she hadn't, then her thoughts would have been more guarded, the stupid words would never have come out of her mouth.

He was really happy, chirping on and on about useless things, like she hadn't almost said "I love you" and then he had, through his actions told her that he didn't give a damn. She was even disappointed that he hadn't had the courage to say that he didn't love her back, or to at least fucking acknowledge her almost said words.

She stopped suddenly and turned away from him as she finally let her tears fall. It was too much, to be around him, to see him happy, to know that he didn't love her and that he never would.

"What's wrong?" he asked, really being quite clueless. His brown eyes bored into hers, imploring her to let him help.

She snapped her blue eyes aflame with pained furor. "What do you mean what's wrong?"

He flinched at her tone, as though she had just slapped him. Oh, how she wanted to. She wiggled her hand at her side feeling the itch to strike, as she never had before.

He felt sick in the pit of his stomach. "Why are you mad at me? Was it something I said?"

"Don't talk to me."

He tried to grab her shoulder to try and reassure her, but she flinched away, glaring coldly. She wanted him to hurt so badly, yet she didn't want to be the cause of such pain.

"Don't touch me." She knew she would cry if he did. His was a touch so loving and sincere that she knew it would force the teary truth out of her.

Normally, she would've stalked off and never looked back, wishing him the most painful agony possible, but no, here she was thinking about him and how he must be confused, even though everything was crystal clear.

"Pansy...oh God, please tell me what I did? I want to fix it...I can't help if you don't let me."

She choked on a sob. "Just shut up! If you weren't so important to this story, then I wouldn't want you here," she said spitefully. As angry as she was, as deep as he had hurt her, it didn't change the fact that she loved him, that his mere presence was enough to bring her back down far enough to tell this story.

He swallowed audibly and turned his head away. He pretended to brush his hair back; she knew better.

If she wasn't so hurt, so angry, then maybe she would've given in when his broken agonized words started to soften her resolve.

"I don't ever want to see you again."

As soon as she said them, she wished she could take back those awful words.

"Wait, I--"

But he was too far ahead of her to hear anything.

***

Pansy found that looking into the piercing yet kind eyes of Professor Dumbledore made all of the words she had to say so much easier. It made asking questions and being honest something she could do...it even seemed like he really understood, and feeling like someone for once understood almost made the gaping holes in her soul start to heal a little. Reliving the true horrors of her life made her newfound pain seem more bearable. But only in the slightest.

It tore at Ron's heart to think of what she'd seen, the road she almost took, how lonely she was, all that had happened to her. She didn't deserve it. She was good on inside...she only wanted the best out of every situation. She was perfect; she made his life perfect, all up until about forty minutes ago. The hollow death in her eyes as she spoke those unbearably cruel words to him would haunt him forever, no matter what happened after this was over....

"I never want to see you again." But what if she meant it? He couldn't bear to ruin things like this, he couldn't lose her...some might call it idiocy, but he somehow knew that he would be an idiot forever if it meant she would forgive him.

He looked at Pansy as she spoke, sighing in relief when she didn't snatch her hand away when he intertwined it with his. Ron couldn't help it; he groaned as he felt her slim fingers locked in his...he could already imagine their smoothness as they ran over his body.

He cleared his head, ignoring his unwanted, completely unexpected desire. The fact that she was letting him comfort her in this small way was enough to make him smile...it was almost enough to make his resentment at her behavior go away.

Ron jumped when Dumbledore addressed him. "Mr. Weasley, since Miss Parkinson is understandably tired and distressed, can you tell me what's happened during your association with her?" There was something in the old man's eyes and voice that made it seem like he already knew what he should be told; that the only point of this was to see what kind of answer he would get.

He nodded, trying to ignore the sparkling blue of Dumbledore's eyes. "Yes. Well, I met her in a hallway because she had helped me pick up books I dropped and we became...er... friends. And then, last night, she came to me, and I had to take her in, you see, she wasn't safe, because of Draco Malfoy. As you very well know, he...hurt her in the past, and was attempting to do so again. So, I did all I could."

Every muscle tensed as he imagined the horror of what that fucking bastard did to her. He felt helpless angry tears welling up in his eyes, he wanted to spring out of his chair and find Malfoy, he wanted the pleasure of seeing his blood run into the ground.

He felt compelled to look away from the professor, yet at the same time felt he couldn't. Perhaps Dumbledore read minds or something...if he did, he could think of a least a thousand things he didn't want him to see. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head, and he clutched at it, struggling not to cry out in agony. However, Dumbledore seemed to believe his words fully now.

"And you'd do exactly the same for anyone else, right?" Dumbledore asked, folding his hands together on top of his desk and leaning back into his plushy purple chair.

"No," he said automatically, still feeling weak from the unexpected headache. Oh great. Now he had to explain things. Oh, that crafty, evil old man.

"Now, Mr. Weasley, don't tell me you'd leave anyone in that situation without help. It doesn't seem like something you would do." Those blue eyes had a hint of amused sarcasm behind them.

Ron sighed. "I'd take them straight to this office. This, however, was a different situation because I...am very close to Pansy. So it was more...err...personal."

"Personal, hmmm?" the professor mused, his eyes holding a laugh. "If I do recall...there's plenty of room in the Gryffindor girls' dormitory, is there not?"

Ron felt her stiffen in panic next him.

Pansy squirmed. "I don't think that would work well. However, if that is the only solution available, I don't see any point in fighting it."

"Well said. However, there is something else I can do...there are plenty of perfectly safe, unused rooms in the castle...If you'd like, I could have one of those rooms prepared for you."

Ron frowned. "I don't know...its--"

He quieted at a withering glance from Pansy. "I can speak for myself, thank you," she said quietly, so that Dumbledore wouldn't hear.

However, it seemed that he had, for he chuckled and said, "Perhaps you'd like to discuss it?"

Pansy nodded, whereas Ron said a resolute, "No."

He looked between the stubborn determination of Ron's face and the fury on Pansy's and decided that it would be best to leave.

"I'll leave you to it," the professor said, gliding up the stairs into the room above his office.

Ron and Pansy stared at each other.

"What's wrong with me having my own room?" she demanded.

"Think of it, you'll be closer to me and I can protect you better. The other girls will be there...the entire point of this is your safety, sweetheart."

"Don't be facetious," she growled. "Have you forgotten that those other girls hate me? Girls can be terribly," Pansy dug her nails into his arm, and neither of them winced when he drew blood, "vicious."

"I can see that," he said sadly, wiping at the blood.

Dumbledore chose that particular moment to walk down the stairs. "I presume you've reached a decision?"

Pansy sighed. "The dormit--"

Ron cut a look at her, as if she belonged in St. Mungo's. "No. Pansy...do what makes you happiest. That's all I want."

She smiled, appreciating his respect of her wishes. "I would like to have my own quarters."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Very well then. If there are a few rules you wouldn't mind agreeing to...."