All I Want Is A Room Somewhere, Pansy Parkinson, R, Part Two

[liseuse.livejournal.com]

Title: All I Want Is A Room Somewhere - Part Two
Author: liseuse
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: R, for swearing.
Warnings: Swearing and a brief scene of violence.
Prompt: #70 - Do what you feel in your heart to be right - for you'll be criticized anyway. You'll be damned if you do, and damned if you don't. -- Eleanor Roosevelt.
Summary: Pansy fights for her place in the war.
Notes: A thousand thank you’s go out to my brilliant beta aunty_marion who saved this story more times than I can count and then came up with a title. Any mistakes left in are mine and mine alone.




It was the 3rd of February by the time anyone other than Bracewell, Lupin and Pansy were in Grimmauld Place. Predictably it was Potter that Pansy had to open the door to, and ask questions of. He was sensible enough to submit himself to the security checks first and begin raging second but somewhat unpredictably it was not Pansy he began to rail at immediately, but Lupin and Bracewell. She was left in the kitchen, making another of the endless pots of tea that had begun marking her day, smoking a cigarette and half-heartedly wondering if Lupin's mistranslation of one phrase in the Beniamin Minor was going to make a blind bit of difference to something that as far as she could see was entirely irrelevant anyway. From the drawing room she could hear Lupin's controlled diction, Bracewell's accent ratcheting up several thousand places as he got more irate and Potter's infernal yelling. Pansy considered knocking on the door with a tea tray in hand and depositing some soothing tea on the table, but decided against it. Potter, she thought, would only accuse her of trying to poison him. She had to admit there had been several times in Sixth Year that it had seemed a reasonable proposition; Draco had never let her in on what was making him such a distracted waif, but from his snooping on Potter and general hatred of him, she'd deduced that it probably had something to do with the orders of Voldemort, or more likely a desire to please his idiotic father. Pansy therefore had on occasion considered dropping something accidentally into Potter's pumpkin juice and then denying all knowledge of it. She doubted he even knew who she was beyond another of those 'damned Slytherins' and he wouldn't therefore be able to accurately denounce her. She also had a sneaking suspicion that if caught at the right moment, even Professor McGonagall would appreciate some respite from his general earnestness. As she was thinking on this and putting out an even number of sugar lumps onto a plate, the kitchen door burst open.

"Parkinson," Harry barked and then ignored her politely waved hand inviting him to sit at the table. "Look. I don't like you. I don't trust you. I don't want you in this house. But, apparently, we need your help. So, I suppose you can stay."

"Oh, thank you, Potter. I'll bear in mind your incredible generosity. If you check the desk in the library, that's the room with all the books, you'll find a plan of possible attack for certain Death Eater houses. I cannot guarantee they are still occupied, but I can, with some degree of certainty, tell you which formulas and potions and spells you will need to get in past the wards. I also noted down that no matter how much your organisation may depend upon them, you cannot take any Muggle-borns there and expect them to get past the wards. Trust me. They won't be able to and they'll be out of the field for a long time as Pomfrey attempts to heal them."

"How the fuck do you know that?" Harry stood, slouched against the table, and glared at Pansy as if he were wishing she'd spontaneously combust and save him the bother of even pretending to be polite.

"Language, Potter. I know that because I know these families. Also because Teddy tried to take Eleanor..." Seeing Harry's blank look Pansy broke off. "Eleanor. Eleanor Branstone. Hufflepuff? Tall, thin as a rake, long blonde hair, good at charms? No? Oh, honestly, Potter. Anyway, Teddy tried to take Eleanor to one of the Malfoy do's in the Easter holidays, I think it was fifth year, and just as she crossed the boundary, the poor girl was horribly afflicted with various dreadful jinxes."

"Huh." Harry stopped slouching and flung himself into a chair. Lupin rolled his eyes in the background.

"I remember Eleanor. Charming girl. Very good at charms in fact. Why on earth did Theodore take her to a Malfoy do?" As he spoke Remus moved around to the side of the table holding the tea-tray and poured himself a cup.

"He was trying to get into her knickers." Pansy smirked. "It worked, I believe. Besides, Teddy couldn't give two hoots about her being a Muggle-born, his sister is after all a Squib."

"If he couldn't give two hoots where the fuck is he then? Because I don't see him cluttering up my kitchen with you."

"Potter, if you glare like that much longer the wind will change and you'll be stuck. He's in Switzerland with his sister, avoiding his father no doubt. His father gives rather more than two hoots, but I suspect he's letting Teddy stay where he is because he adores his daughter. Yes, Potter, Death Eaters love their families too."

"I'll believe it when I fucking see it," Harry grouched and picked up a sugar cube. Picking it to pieces he relaxed his face a little and turned to Remus. "Look, what precisely is she going to help with?" The tone of his 'she' rather seemed to imply that Pansy was no better than a slug, and Lupin raised an eyebrow in a manner familiar to Pansy from Defence lessons.

"She is the cat's mother. Pansy will be helping devise plans, much like the one she informed you earlier was on your desk. And apparently she'll be correcting my translations as well." Lupin pulled his parchment towards him and nodded. "Ah yes, I see. Not that it makes much difference. The damn document is of no use whatsoever."

"Yes, I rather understood that. Still, sloppy translations do no one any good. It might be of interest to someone after the war and if the translation is already done then you've saved them a job. A very tedious job."

"Yeah, yeah. Very good." Harry interrupted, "So plans and taking up space. That's it?"

"No, Potter, that is not it. Plans which are of far more use to you than any that Granger might be able to come up with. She's a brilliant student, don't get me wrong and I'm sure she's an admirable tactician. But she is not a Pureblood nor is she a Half-Blood that was raised in the wizarding community." Seeing Harry's shoulders rise and his face turn an entertaining shade of crimson, Pansy put down her cigarette and started to speak again. "For this kind of work, it makes a difference. I know these houses, Potter, I've been visiting them since childhood and the saying about little pitchers? It's true. I'm not getting involved with your side because I believe in the Side of Righteousness, Fluffy Kittens and Sweets For All. I want my life back, I want my sister to be able to get married, I want to buy a nice house, have a nice job and go out drinking champagne on the weekends. I do not want to spend my entire adult life always reaching for a wand and watching people get hurt. And joining you seems rather the best way to go about it. I like house-elves, I do not want house-halfbloods and dead Muggles all over the place. So you can either use my tactics and win, or you can ignore them, send me home and lose. Dreadfully. Painfully. And whilst watching every Muggle in this country die a hideous death that they cannot understand."

To his credit, Pansy thought, Harry had the grace to look a little shamefaced at that. "Fine. You can stay. I'll go look at that plan now. I assume Remus sorted you out with a bed?"

"Yes. I'm sharing with Hermione, apparently. Although I have yet to see her." Pansy smiled tightly and leaned forward, her hand outstretched. "Shake on a truce?"

Harry jerked back slightly, then getting himself under control again, nodded and shoved his hand out. They shook quickly and then broke off. "She's on a mission. Should be back on Friday." He looked pale and a little nauseous.

Lupin saw Harry pale and stood up abruptly, surprising Bracewell who'd been stood quietly lounging against the cooker and sipping a mug of coffee. "Right, they'll be fine. Harry you've got plans to look over. Pansy, I found something interesting this morning that you might want to see. Hodgkiss, any plans?"

Bracewell put down his mug and smiled. "I have to go to Kings Cross and meet Mundungus. He says he knows something. I doubt he does, but he'll get affronted if I don't go." Turning to Pansy he winked. "Don't listen to Mr Grumpy Boots, lass. He's under a lot of stress."

"Thank you, Hodgkiss." Pansy smiled. "Lead on, Lupin, I do hope it's another fascinating town planning document you've got for me."

The 6th of February saw Ron and Hermione back in Grimmauld Place, both of them looking as if they'd never been clean in their lives, exhausted and only partially successful. Harry's face had visibly lightened and his shoulders lifted when he'd seen them from the window, and if Pansy was a betting woman she'd have had several thousand Galleons on Ron being the one who got welcomed back with more than a hug. Hermione had dropped her coat on the mat, untied her hair and headed straight for the bathroom, coming down twenty five minutes later a lot more refreshed, carefully picked up after herself and wandered into the library where Pansy was busy translating an Ancient Roman text sent to them by Bill, which seemed to have some arithmancy hidden in it somewhere that, if Pansy had the clues right, would give them a new way to make a building unplottable.

"I take it you aren't here to welcome me into the bosom of the Order and promise me a nice long life full of bonbons and toffee?" Pansy didn't look up as she spoke, but instead noted down a group of numbers which, if she was correct, seemed to contradict one of the more troubling formulas in Numerology and Gramatica.

"I thought I'd bring you a cup of tea instead. Bonbons rot the teeth." Hermione put the mug down just out of reach of Pansy's elbow. "Harry isn't very happy you're here, you know. He thinks you're communicating with Draco and that you're going to bring down locusts on us all."

"Locusts? Why would I bring down locusts?" Pansy looked bemused as she picked up the mug and blew on it softly.

"Never mind. It's a Biblical thing. My point is that I appreciate our need for you, and I ... well, I've been telling Harry for a while that I am not exactly the person for the job. I don't know these houses like the back of my hand. I know the theory and an awful lot about maps and cartography and when the lie of the land does not meet the eye's view. Your house for example, on the edge of the Grass Wood, if I'm not mistaken? Appears on one map from 1456 and disappears thereafter. Common reports however indicate that there is something slightly odd about the field that I assume your family home is on. But all that gives me is a theory. It's the same with all the others. I know where Malfoy Manor is, where the Goyles live, where Queenie Greengrass' mother lives, but I don't know how those houses exist in proper space." Hermione smiled ruefully. "Harry doesn't understand that. He's used to me knowing things. Blood does make a difference." The smile grew harder and Hermione laughed roughly. "I cannot believe I just said that to you."

"Oh, keep your hair on, Granger. I'm not about to repeat it. Clever deductions on my family home, however. Precisely why were you staking us out?" Pansy raised an eyebrow and slid her chair back slightly so she could rest her feet on the desk and stretch her back. "We aren't terribly interesting, as I'm sure you'll have noticed."

"We staked out all the Slytherin houses." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry's orders."

"Ah, the insufferable Mr Potter still cannot comprehend that a Slytherin might not be evil. He does know that Andromeda Black was a Slytherin?"

"He knows. But I don't think he really believes it. Or he thinks that she wasn't destined to be there truly and that she merely pretended she wanted to be to please her family. He has ... odd ideas sometimes."

"Ah." Pansy smiled. "Draco used to say that he wished there was a week in which every student was made to go into their opposite house to see what it was really like. I think he wanted to see the inside of Gryffindor tower. I always wanted to see the Ravenclaw common room."

Hermione tipped her head to one side and said, thoughtfully, "That might not be a bad idea. I might see if Professor McGonagall would introduce something similar when Hogwarts reopens."

"Yes, yes. Very nice." Pansy carefully swept her feet off the desk and pulled her chair back in. Taking up her quill she picked her tea mug up and drained it. "Now if you wouldn't mind, I have work to do. I think that the Trebuchet Mansion might be the next best place to start looking. The younger generations left Britain, but the place is maintained by the house elves and the late Lord Trebuchet had, shall we say, dubious connections with the underworld. The house elves are under orders to buy anything interesting that comes on the market and if any valuable items or Horcruxes, which you do realise should be Horcruces or Horcri yes? Anyway, valuable items or Horcruxes ... if they came onto the market then it seems likely that whoever had them would have known about the Trebuchet Collection, with Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban there's no real competition. Teddy's father used to try and compete, but he'd given that up by fourth year, father didn't care one whit and, well frankly, no one else is rich enough."

"Yes, I know it's supposed to be Horcri or Horcruces, one works with what one's given." Hermione laughed a little grudgingly and reached for the piece of parchment Pansy was holding out. "So the Trebuchet Manor. Isn't that in Warwickshire somewhere?"

"Near Stratford. It's disguised as a lake. Apparently when the late Lord Trebuchet was in residence the spells were so powerful people could actually fish there, despite it not being a real lake. Now, however, the distance of the family has weakened the spells and it relies on a buffer spell instead."

"Why did the younger Trebuchets leave?' Hermione frowned as she traced the line of a map and saw the arithmancy involved in the boundary spells.

"One of them fell in love with a Contessa, the other decided he wanted to train Lipizanners and the youngest decided to make a dreadful scene and run off with an elephant tamer. Apparently they're blissfully happy. Mother gets a Yule card every now and then." Pansy grinned. "It's a small world, Granger. They went to Beauxbatons, as did my sister."

Part Three

Comments

[enchantedteacup.livejournal.com]

This was fantastic! Again, I loved Pansy's characterization. The word choice was really good; it let Pansy's voice shine through effectively. I enjoyed her interactions with Harry and Hermione too. :D

♣ enchantedteacup

[liseuse.livejournal.com]

I have such a soft spot for Pansy, and luckily I went to uni with an awful lot of very posh people, so her word choices are so much fun to make and so much fun to write because they're lingering in my head behind my very much not posh accent.