"You really are an idiot, do you know that Potter?" There was a sigh behind him, "Such a fool. Always so... Emotional. Snape doesn't like that, and he doesn't like you. Get over it."
"I don't think you understand Parkinson, how could you, ice cold bitch of Slytherin, ever understand me, or my emotions?" He had to admit, that didn't come out very well.
She laughed lightly and dripping with scorn, she remarked, "Such a simple little boy, do you really believe every word the rumor mill spills out? Been listening to Parvati's and Brown's grapevine have you? I'm so disappointed. I would have thought that Gryffindor's Golden Boy, would be more fair!"
Slowly turning, he glared at her. Parkinson smirked, put a hand on her hip and looked her nose down at him. "Well," he paused watching her reaction, "You certainly have a reputation... There's always a sliver of truth, no matter what you say."
"You have been listening to Terry Boot haven't you?" Harry blinked at her openness, "I thought so. Well, Terry, is a little prick, in more ways than one. There is no way I would let that near me. I deserve only the best."
"But how would you know...?" Harry said quietly.
Lowering her eyes, a demure cast of her face completely ruined by the sensual smile her lips played. "I like to know these things, Potter..."
Narrowing his eyes, as she stepped forward and placed a hand on his tie. Trailing a finger down the red, the gold stripes. She played with it, focusing on the crooked tie. "I like to know, all sorts of things Potter." Her fingers let go of the tie and she leaned against the wall, her eyes half cast.
The little smile on her face spelled trouble, yet Harry felt so inclined to ask... "D'you... Know..." He stuttered to a stop, a red blush infusing his pale cheeks. He looked away from her face, her smile broadening into a grin.
A hand brought his chin and Harry met her gaze. Pulling him forward, she let his lips ghost across hers, both their eyes were open and his were wide with shock while her dark eyes remained solemn.
"Does that answer your question?"
Harry stumbled over his words, in his haste to get them out. "I don't, I don't! Like you!"
Giving him a look of despair, Parkinson snorted, "And you think I do? Please, Potter. Don't say you are that stupid."
Frowning he jerked his chin from her grasp, "Stop touching me," words laced with venom and hate, he stepped away from her, barely looking at her.
"Don't worry... I won't. I was just proving a point. You don't need to fear me," at the corner of his eyes he could see her eyes darken, "It's just advisable."
"And I'm to trust you?"
Shaking her head, she replied, "No... Now that would be silly!"
"So what does this mean?"
"Does there have to be a meaning?" Parkinson rolled her eyes, "It's so meaningless searching for something that doesn't exist. I did it, because I wanted to. You can be quite attractive, if... Untidy."
"You kissed me..."
"Don't tell me you've never been kissed."
"Yes!" He blushed, "I mean, I have... Been kissed."
"Hmm... You weren't that good. You really should practice some more." She grinned impishly.
"I suppose you are offering?" Harry shot back at her.
Her eyes widened and her demeanor changed, becoming almost nervous for a moment. "No! I can't, I really shouldn't have... Kissed you in the first place..." She ended quietly.
"So why did you?"
Shrugging, she prepared to answer, "I, I suppose I was bored." She looked down, an air of vulnerability crossing her face, "Draco and I aren't going well..."
"You kissed me..."
Shooting an irritated glance an him she continued, "You've already said that Potter, please refrain from saying it again. I doubt I'll ever do again, I should have not done it in the first place. I just seem to incite even more trouble. I'm a bad girl Potter."
"But not an ice cold bitch?"
"Not really. I do have my moments. We all do, even you, Golden Boy."
Harry was affronted, "Excuse me? When have I ever acted like you?" There was a mixture of disgust and surprise in his voice as he gazed at Parkinson, a rather silly grin on her face.
"Shall we forget fifth year Potter? Even we in the Sytherin common room heard all about you 'hissy fits'. Draco and I laughed about you a lot that year."
"Well, thanks. That really makes a guy feel better. I have you know I was going through some bad time that year." Harry was almost pouting at this point, then he crossed he arms across his chest.
"We all were. OWLs were a bitch. A tremendous pain in the butt."
"It's not only that..." He trailed off, wondering why he was even thinking of telling her any of this. She was easy to talk to, well the words came out easy to feel in the dreadful silences that her glares made. She was snarky, dismissive and looking for a fight.
"The Dark Lord? Pressuring you? I'm not surprised. If I was him, which I'm not, those red eyes would do horrible things for my complexion... Not to mention his nose!" She brought a thankful hand to her nose, "That's what I would do."
Blankly staring at her, Harry struggled to find the right words.
"I've said far to much."
"I really should go Potter, so should you."
Neither made a move to leave the abandoned hallway. There was silence. Except for their quiet breathing. But his was becoming ragged, he was nervous yet he couldn't figure out why.
Some how she managed to get right up to him without him noticing. "Potter, you really shouldn't worry so much."
Laughing without humour, he was shocked, through he didn't show it, to find some hurt in her eyes. "Parkinson, this is simply something that you can't understand. I'm, I'm the Boy Who Lived! Do you know what it's like to live a life of constant fame?"
"No... I imagine that it comes with fortune."
Grinning sadly, he nodded. "My parents died and left me a bundle of cash. I'd rather have them..."
She shrugged, "I don't know, I wouldn't mind swapping my parents for a pile of gold. They are pretty useless without their purse strings..."
"That's rather cold, greedy too."
"Me? Cold? Greedy? Oh you must be thinking of someone else..." She gave a slight smile, "I like gold Potter. I'm remarkably like a goblin that way, through with my blood line as it is... I wouldn't be surprised."
"I thought you were a pureblood."
"Oh I am, just with a few others things to be thrown in for measure. Potter, your family, your father's at least isn't as human as it could be... Most Wizarding families aren't. But people... Generally keep it a secret, or it just happened so long ago... That no one really remembers."
"So the stuff about pureblood being the best is...?"
Pausing she gave a careful look, "Do you really want to know? It doesn't matter why I feel about, just what I do..."
"But that you feel! Your actions come from your emotions..."
"Not always Potter," Parkinson spoke quietly, "Not always. Sometimes you do things because you have to. You may have free will. I don't think many Slytherins who do..."
"Yeah," she giggled, spreading her arms up high, "But what can you do about it?"
"Fight against it? Every heard of free will?"
"Ever hear of consequences, Potter? Like, if one so happens to go rescue a godfather... and it was all just a plot? But the godfather dies any way. Consequences Potter, consequences..."
Anger snapping he rushed against her, using his forearm to block her windpipe, Harry spoke harshly through gritted teeth, getting his point across very quickly, "Never talk that way about Sirius, never!"
Breathing in gasps and gulps, she glared defiantly as him, "Fuck off Potter!"
"I'll fuck who ever I please!" He glared at her in one long mad moment, frustration steaming off him. Pressing closer, he hissed, "Anyone who chooses me!"
Then he released her. Legs and knees sagging beneath her, she struggled to find her breath as Potter refused to look at her. "We-ll, wasn't that interesting." Looking through her dark hair she regarded him like an interesting find, "You really are a little slut, willing to screw anyone who desires it..."
He whirled around. Biting out viciously, a terrible blush highlighting his cheeks, "That's not what I meant. It's the choice, that matters. You can't understand that, you can't..." He seemed almost surprised to find himself pitying her.
"No, I don't suppose I do. I do understand, but that what I do, is because I want to survive. For me, not for anyone else. I'm not really needed."
Standing up she gave him a level look, her eyes blank from lack of emotion. "That's how the world is for many people, Potter..."
Harry couldn't see from her perspective, but some how, some of it did make sense.
"Potter! And Miss Parkinson?" Snape. Harry's insides curled up in horror. "What are you doing here?"
"Uh..." Articulated as ever, Harry was.
"Potter, was detaining me Professor. I caught him loitering here and was punishing him for being outside of curfew... Sir." Harry stared at the crisply spoken Parkinson, her eyes winking maliciously.
Snape's eyes seemed to light up with something similar, though darker, "Really? Well, Potter, another detention for you... and twenty points from Gryffindor."
"Wha- ! But Parkinson - "
"Do you want another twenty points to be lost, Potter?" Snape interrupted silkily.
"No Sir," he mumbled, head bowed and anger lacing his words.
"Good, return to Gryffindor Tower..."
Harry exited, his feet pounding into the ancient stone floors of Hogwarts. Breathing harshly he rounded a corner, his head stuffed full of emotions, some that he didn't understand and others he had no clue what to do with.
That's how he happened to hear an interesting conversation between the Slytherin Prefect, Pansy Parkinson and the Head of Slytherin House and Professor of Potions, Severus Snape.
"Parkinson?" The word, spoken still harshly seemed less filled with hate than when Harry usually heard it spoken. It was quieter too, and he struggled to hear what was being said.
"Yes Sir?" She too seemed subdued, as if a great battle had been lost, weary and tired.
"What were you really doing?" Snape expected answers.
Peeking around the corner, covered by darkness, Harry saw the two, Professor and student displayed in a diluted light sources. Parkinson's face seemed almost... Sad.
"I see." But he didn't see, Harry thought. He didn't either, but he knew more than Snape. She wasn't right, but she wasn't wrong either.
Snape leaves the dim light, fading back into the deep shadows that he normally resides.
Parkinson, stills. The air of sadness arrives upon her again. She doesn't cry, no tears leave her dark eyes. Instead they narrow with anger as she slams an open faced hand against the stone wall. Hunching over, her head bowed with her hand curling around the large stones, she seems to briefly submit to sorrow.
When she raises her head, her eyes her filled with hate. Parkinson's gazes directly at him, her mouth in a thin line. Whirling around she too goes into the shadows.
Harry lets his legs collapse under him, still seeing her eyes on him.
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