springsmutfairy (springsmutfairy) wrote in hp_springsmut, @ 2009-03-16 00:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | fic, het, ron/pansy |
Happy Springsmut, aestus!
Author: purelush
Recipient: aestus
Title: Training Day
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Pansy/Ron
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Pansy's economic status forces her to seek employment.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: ~1174
Author's Notes: I really hope you enjoy this!!! Thanks to M for the beta.
Pansy closed her eyes and counted to ten. When she opened them, she was still in Hell. Small children were running around with snotty noses, bright packages were exploding willy-nilly, and the air was thick with smoke.
She desperately wanted to turn around and run back outside, but the fact was that she, Pansy Primrose Parkinson, was desperate. So instead, she squared her shoulders and marched up to the red-haired man in magenta robes. The one who hadn't died. Fred. No, George. Oh, she couldn't get his name wrong, not when his brother was dead! Pansy's smile was frozen on her face as she approached, her mind frantically trying to remember which Weasley twin had died in the Battle.
"Mr. Weasley," she said at last, deciding it was the safest bet. "I'm here about the position."
He looked at her strangely. "Aren't you that Parkinson bird? The one who wanted to give Harry up to You-Know-Who?"
"That was a simple misunderstanding," she said, waving her hand in the air as if she was shooing it away.
"Right," he said, unconvinced. "Well, first off, call me George because there are a lot of Mr. Weasleys who work in the shop now, so it'll get a bit confusing."
Pansy nodded. George, George, George, George she chanted internally, committing it to memory.
"And secondly, why in Merlin's name would you want to work here?" He asked.
Pansy debated for a moment about lying, before she decided to come clean. "I can't get a job anywhere else. I have about 10 galleons left. Total. Bloody war reparations. I've already lost the Manor, and I'll be homeless in about a fortnight unless I find work."
George studied her for a moment and then nodded. "Alright. Come back tomorrow, 8 am. But any Pureblood supremacy, any of that nonsense and you'll be gone, understand?"
"Yes, absolutely!" Pansy said gratefully.
Dear Mother and Father,
Hope all is as well as it can be in Azkaban. I am doing as well as can be expected on the outside. Father, next time you decide to torture and kill people, kindly refrain from branding them with the family crest. It makes it so much more difficult to feign your innocence.
Due to the seizure of the family funds for compensation for your victims, I have been forced to seek employment. Regretfully, I will be starting at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes tomorrow. If you are shocked and appalled by this news, may I remind you that this is all your fault.
Love,
Pansy