pansy & blaise
WHO: Pansy Parkinson & Blaise Zabini
WHAT: Christmas, Slytherin style
WHERE: Zabini home
WHEN: Christmas Eve
RATING: PG
STATUS: Done!





Pansy had gone to the little Nott celebration for Christmas Eve. As much as she wanted to scream when seeing all the happy families and reminders of Teddy's treachery, she really didn't have much choice. Of course, as usual, it left her feeling lonely, misunderstood, and angry. As such, she had imbibed a few glasses of champagne before making her way to people who treated her like the princess she was. Arriving at the Zabini home, she barked an order at the harried elf, demanding the thing to bring one or both of the esteemed family members.

Pansy waited in the foyer, her hair still done up for the party and her black dress left little to the imagination. Not that Blaise would be impressed by such, but one never knew what guest he might be entertaining. Not that it mattered, of course. Pansy was bound to become a shriveled old hag thanks to that bastard Draco Malfoy.

Blaise had never been more grateful to be interrupted by an unexpected guest. Mother had decided that Christmas Eve was a perfect time to make nice with this Romanian couple she'd met on holiday last summer, and Blaise had never felt quite so bored in his life. They were the epitome of stodgy old foreigners, without any of the interesting little quirks that came with some of the more odd Pureblood traditions. They just sipped at their port and told pointless stories about the good old days when Grindelwald was around. He'd heard enough stories about that old bastard to last a lifetime.

So when Moopsy came to fetch him, he'd bowed politely and excused himself, not even taking the moment to find out exactly who it was that had arrived at the Floo gate. On his way to the entrance hall he snatched a bottle of champagne and popped the cork. Merlin, but he hoped it was someone at least a little interesting. Luckily the fates smiled on him, and as he rounded the corner he nearly ran into the scantily clad vixen that was Pansy.

"Why, Parks!" he exclaimed, a smile brightening his face. "I thought you were at Theo's thing. I hadn't expected to see you until the New Year!" He embraced her tightly, happy for a friendly face.

Pansy hugged her old friend back tightly. She was just as grateful for someone who truly wanted to see her. Sure, Teddy might still have invited her to occasions, but she was sure it was just pity for the old maid that prompted him to do so. A smidge of house loyalty perhaps? "I was bored," she informed, stepping away after kissing her cheek. "I apologize for not announcing prior."

"Not at all," Blaise said, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow and leading her out of the entrance hall. "In fact you saved me from these appallingly dreary relics Mother dug up from Romania, of all places. Their English is appalling, but Mother thinks it's funny to pretend that neither of us actually speak Roumanian, when of course we understand every little thing they say to each other because they think it's private. I just wish they'd actually say something scandalous, but it's all the same boring shit about not being sure if they can trust a Zabini, blah blah blah. So thank you for saving me. Would you like a drink?" He gestured at her with the bottle before taking a swig from it.

Pansy giggled at the situation he described so vividly. "Well, darling, they're correct. Trusting a Zabini…" She winked teasingly, accepting his arm gratefully. After an evening of idle chat and forced politeness, it felt good to just be herself. "Yes, I need one. A stiff one at that, mate."

Tugging her into the Cobalt Room, Blaise gestured for Pansy to take a seat. The room was, of course, decked out in vivid blues. Mother liked to have themed rooms all throughout the manse, and she'd generally exile those who she didn't like very much to spend the night in the Western Salon, which had been done up rather garishly like something out of a bad novel about American oxboys or whatever they were called. Luckily the Cobalt Room was just a small lounge with a rather well-stocked bar, perfect for a tiny get-together like this.

"Well you can have some of the bubbly if you want," he offered, rummaging through the various liquours. "Or, if you'd like, I can open up some of that absinthe I got from ze Germans. Or would you rather a good shot of English firewhisky? Pick your poison, love."

Pansy rather enjoyed Mrs. Zabini's tastes. The home was decorated well without edging on gaudy. The room they were currently in was actually one of Pansy's favorites. She sunk onto the comfortable couch, kicking off her heels. "Firewhiskey, of course." She quirked her brows in a very 'seriously, Blaise' expression.

"Oh you're no fun," remarked Blaise with a small pout. He took out a bottle of Old Ogden's and a tumbler, placing them on the side table next to Pansy, and then found a flute for his champagne. Pouring some of the frothing drink into the flute, he raised it in salute. "Merry Christmas, Parks."

Faking her trademark pout, Pansy accepted the offered drink, holding it up when Blaise did. "Merry fucking Christmas!" She laughed a bit harder than she would have if she was more somber. She took a long gulp, looking back at her friend when she was finished. "Ever thought we'd be celebrating hols together, love?" She leaned back further into the sofa cushions, her expression wistful.

Blaise curled up on the opposite end of the sofa, tugging his feet underneath him and facing Pansy. He laughed a little bit, running his finger along the rim of the glass. "Not really," he admitted. "Honestly, back in school, I'd have said it'd have been you and Draco, and I'd probably be out fucking some Swedish boy or something. Or maybe spending time with Theo? I don't know." He felt sad all of a sudden, the emotion rushing on him in an unwelcome wave. The holidays were always like this now. "But things change," he said with a forced lightness in his voice.

Feeling lonely herself, Pansy threw her good manners out the window in favor of crawling over to Blaise. She leaned against his strong chest, listening to the beating of his heart. Her and Draco. She had planned it for years. They'd be sitting just like she was with Blaise, watching golden lights flicker on their evergreen Christmas tree. And yet…Tracey got those honors. How? How did life become so unfair? She closed her eyes briefly, trying to pretend for a moment that she was with Draco. Opening them, she smiled up at Blaise. "I'm not quite a Swedish boy," she joked weakly.

He laughed a little, despite himself, and kissed the top of her head. "Not quite," he agreed. "You're rather lacking a few key parts, and you've got a bountiful supply of some others that rather highlight the differences between you and the Swedish." He hugged her, happy to have someone to be close to, even if it was a girl. Merlin, he hated England sometimes. There was no-one here anymore. "Fuck, Parks," he whispered. "Why did I come back here?"

Lightly tickling his stomach, she replied, "For me, naturally." She chuckled, allowing her eyes to stay with Blaise's. "I don't know, love. Something about old habits and childhood and…all those things?" She wrinkled her nose. "Though why we should cling to that when no one else does…"

"I don't know," Blaise agreed somberly. "It's as though everything that used to matter is just... nothing, now." He trailed off, closing his eyes and turning his head away. "What happened to us, to everything?" he demanded in a rush. "This isn't how things were supposed to happen."

"War?" Pansy shook her head, her dark hair mussing a bit as it grazed Blaise's chest. "Well, a stupid wizard who didn't know what he was doing rather." Her lips curled into a grimace. "Voldemort. Heh. Some name to invoke such fear, yeah? A joke he was."

Blaise grunted in agreement. "To think that some half-blood arsehole could bring our entire civilization crashing down because he couldn't fucking kill a one year old baby when he had the chance." He glowered at nothing, an irrational anger welling up in him. "I wish he hadn't even bothered, the bastard. If he'd just left it alone, then Mother wouldn't need to be -" He cut himself off, realizing his slip, and glanced at Pansy to see if she'd caught on.

Pansy wasn't a Slytherin for naught. She straightened up, head tilting. "Your mother wouldn't have to what?" Sure, she had heard all the rumors about Isabella and her husbands, but Pansy hadn't really paid much attention. She'd not dream Isabella (or Blaise) was behind the latest dark happenings.

Blaise muttered a curse under his breath. He used to be able to handle his liquor better than this. "It's nothing," he muttered, hoping that Pansy would let it go.

And maybe she would have if Blaise hadn't told her to. Everyone knew 'it's nothing' was code for something. "Hmmm, try again."

He looked her in the eye, silent for a long moment. "Alright," he said eventually. "But this is... this isn't something..." He struggled for words, and stopped again. "You need to understand, Pansy, that you can't talk about this. To anyone."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "FINE. Now, tell me."

"Mother... she's the one, Pansy. Who killed Granger." It felt so good to tell someone, to not keep it bottled up anymore. "She didn't actually kill Granger, but she set it up. She's the one who is putting this together, Pansy, she's the new fucking Dark Lord, or Lady I guess." He giggled a little, maniacally, at the thought, and swigged back another sip of the champagne.

To say Pansy was shocked would be putting it lightly. Eyes widening, she simply stared at Blaise for a long moment that seemed to stretch an eternity. Whether she approved of Granger or not…Teddy's wife. Salazar. Salazar in hell. "But…" She glanced away, swallowing hard. "Oh, Blaise. If he knew…" But he wouldn't. He couldn't.

Blaise clenched his hand around the bottle, his chest tightening. "I know," he whispered, willing himself to not bawl like an insipid little schoolgirl. "But this is the way it has to be, Parks," he continued resolutely. "Healing hurts. Mother said it best to me. We have to heal this land, because it's dying, Parks, but it is going to hurt before it gets better. We have to wake people up, get them remembering the past again, make them remember the glory of what our society used to be before it got fucking overrun by the Muggles."

Pansy wasn't sure she could agree killing their friend's wife was the best way to go about doing that…"But…last time…it didn't work. It…went completely opposite." She blinked several times, trying to digest it all. "Draco will kill you."

He grabbed her wrist at that and scowled. "He's not going to know. None of them can know, Pansy. Fuck, I shouldn't have told you."

"It's not like I'll tell him! But, Blaise, they are all looking! The Ministry..."

Scoffing, Blaise set the champagne aside. "The Ministry hasn't the first clue. Apart from you and I, maybe two or three people even know that Mother is the one setting this up. And she's got them under Unbreakable Vows to not reveal her identity if by some god-forsaken chance they're ever caught. It isn't like the Death Eaters, Parks. There's not going to be parades of masked morons going around Diagon Alley proclaiming the glory of Isabella Zabini. That isn't why she's doing this. This is for our society, not for her."

"That isn't true! Potter and them...they are not stupid. Teddy's out for blood...just, be careful. Please." She gripped Blaise's hand, willing him to never leave her. Her last true friend who accepted her, faults and all.

The anger flooded out of Blaise as he saw the worry in Pansy's eyes. "I'm not even really doing anything," he admitted, a little sullenly. "I just sit and nod while Mother makes her plans most of the time. I guess I'm just there to keep her from doing anything too crazy." He sighed. "I never wanted it to go so far as this, but it has. Granger's dead now, and I can't bring her back, so we just have to hope that it'll turn out for the best. Because this is the last chance for Britain, don't you see? The rest of the world thinks we're a fucking joke now. I mean, sure, Potter's some great whopping hero who killed Voldemort, but that's the only thing we have going for us to the rest of Europe. Our children don't even know how great our culture used to be, Parks. They don't know the gods awful things the Muggles did to us. They have no idea of the past, and it shows. Soon there won't even be a wizarding world in Britain, unless we fix things now."

Pansy still held his hand. "I know. I do know. And it is not that I disagree...I just...I don't want you to get hurt or...or anyone else. Of ours, I mean. We lost enough."

"I don't want to get hurt either," he said, tightening his fingers around hers. "Or you, or... anyone. I'm trying to keep it sane, Parks, I promise. Mother... she needs me to keep her from going too far, and I will. I have to."

Pansy leaned against him again, hugging him close. "Then I'll just have to keep you sane then."

Blaise laughed a little, happily, and held her tight. "You don't know how much I need it right now," he breathed, still laughing.

Smug, Pansy planted a kiss on his cheek. "Everyone needs a little Pansy in his life."

"Too true," Blaise agreed. "Let me tell you, Draco Malfoy was an idiot when he chose Tracey, darling. You're the far superior specimen."

And that? Was why Pansy had decided to spend Christmas with the Zabinis. Snuggling, Pansy beamed. "And that's why everyone needs a little Blaise in her life too."