How to Save a Life

As they neared the doors to the Great Hall, Harry reached his hand out and took hold of Pansy’s, lacing their fingers together.

“Nervous?” she asked.

“No,” Harry denied. Then, seeing the smirk on Pansy’s face, he added, “Terrified, more like.”

“You’ll be fine. I won’t make you dance too much, promise.”

Harry shot her a grateful smile and squeezed her hand. “Did I mention how lovely you look tonight?”

“No, you didn’t. But feel free to mention it as many times as you like.”

They came to a halt behind Draco and Daphne who had paused at the entrance to the Hall. Draco turned to face Pansy, a stern glare on his face.

“I told you, Pansy, no flirting with Harry. He’s mine.”

Pansy giggled lightly and gave Draco a gentle shove through the doorway. “He’s mine for tonight.”

Before Harry could protest at being talked about like he was a possession, Pansy had led him into the Great Hall and he found himself lost in wonder at how different the room looked.

Instead of the usual four house tables, there were now many smaller round tables arranged around a central dance floor. There was a platform at the head of the dance floor with instruments already set up on it for the band to take up later.

The ceiling, as usual, reflected the night sky outside, dark, clear and star filled. The lighting in the room came from hundreds of small candles that had been charmed to float in the air above the tables. Bats flapped around in the high ceiling as they did at every Halloween feast, though Hermione had informed Harry that this year they would not be using real ones, but toy ones charmed to fly instead. Mainly due to the inconvenience of having live animals flying overhead whilst people were eating!

The castle ghosts bobbed through the air, adding to the eerie atmosphere. Although Peeves was noticeably absent, and Nearly Headless Nick later confided to Harry that this had been the work of The Bloody Baron, who had scared the poltergeist sufficiently to keep him away from the festivities.

Each of the smaller tables was adorned with a large pumpkin lantern, all of whom sported a similar evil grin. Jewelled silver goblets and large gilded platters were laid out on the tables, and Harry could see that an elegant looking menu was placed in each setting.

Harry looked up and noticed that the teachers had already taken their seats at the top table. He was disappointed to note that they had not indulged in the ‘muggle wear’ theme of the evening, all except Hagrid that was, who was sporting a very hairy-looking brown suit. The half giant noticed Harry looking and gave him an enthusiastic wave, almost knocking Professor Sinistra off her chair in the process. Harry grinned and waved in return before his attention was claimed by Pansy.

Before Harry was too sure what was happening, he found himself standing in front of a blank screen, looking down the lens of a camera.

“Smile, Harry,” he heard a voice instruct. Upon closer inspection it turned out to be Hermione who had spoken and was now smiling at him encouragingly.

“They’re for the yearbook, Harry.” Hermione said, like this explained everything.

Harry barely had time to marshal his features into something resembling a smile, before a bright flash caused him to blink and step back in surprise.

“That’s great,” commented the photographer. “Now let’s have one of the pair of you.”

Harry slipped his arm around Pansy’s waist and smiled as best he could into the camera. He had a deep dislike of having his photo taken, which mainly stemmed from being hounded by the press following the final battle.

Draco seemed to notice the tension in Harry’s body and he stepped forward.

“That’s enough pictures of you, Potter. Let someone else have a turn.” It was said with a slight sneer on his face, but Harry could see the concern hidden behind it.

He and Pansy stepped to the side and were immediately greeted by a smiling Hermione, with a reluctant Ron in tow.

“Sorry about that, Harry. I forgot how much you hate having your picture taken.”

“It’s ok, Hermione,” Harry shrugged. “A couple of pictures I can handle. Just tell me you haven’t got Rita Skeeter waiting in the wings as well.”

Hermione chucked at this, “I promise.” Then she turned her attention to Harry’s date.

“You look nice, Pansy. Doesn’t she Ron?” Harry didn’t miss the sharp dig to Ron’s ribs that accompanied this question and felt warmth spread through his chest at Hermione’s actions. She obviously thought that he and Pansy were dating and because of that she was making an effort to be pleasant to the Slytherin. Harry could only hope that she would be similarly understanding when she eventually found out about Draco.

“Um, yes, very nice.” Ron stumbled over the words, as if they were causing him pain to say.

“Thank you,” Pansy said, blushing prettily. “You look nice too,” she ventured. “Your hair looks lovely.

Hermione smiled warmly at this. “It took absolutely ages to get it like this, I’m glad someone noticed,” she wound up, with a pointed stare at an oblivious Ron.

Shaking her head at her clueless boyfriend, Hermione turned back to Harry.

“Come on; let me show you to your table. Professor McGonagall’s still on this inter house unity kick, so she had us set the tables up with a mix from each house on them.”

Harry’s heart sank a little at this news. He may not have been able to come as Draco’s date, but he had certainly hoped to be able to spend time with his boyfriend. And now it looked like they wouldn’t even be able to sit together.

Hermione paused by a table and gestured to it. “This is your table, you two. Have a good evening.” With that, she was back off to greet more new arrivals. Harry turned to look at the table and was relieved to find friendly faces looking back at him. Already seated were Neville and Susan Bones who smiled welcomingly. Harry’s eye travelled further round the table and he saw both Dean and Luna grinning back at him.

Harry pulled out Pansy’s chair for her and smirked at the girl when she looked at him in surprise.
“It’s not just purebloods who have manners you know.”

Pansy was about to make a biting comeback to this when she noticed that she had lost Harry’s attention. A broad smile had crossed the Gryffindor’s face, and when Pansy turned to see what it was, she saw Draco and Daphne being led towards their table by Ernie McMillan.

Harry was a little disappointed when Daphne slid into the seat at the side of him, but smiled welcomingly at the girl despite this. Draco was even less pleased than Harry with the seating arrangements. There was a definite tightening of the blonde’s jaw when he saw that the only vacant seat left at the table was next to Luna.

Harry initially thought it might be due to the thought of having to listen to tales of Crumple-Horned Snorkaks over dinner. However, it then occurred to him that Draco probably felt uncomfortable sitting next to the girl who spent several weeks held as a prisoner in his home.


After a series of friendly nods and hellos all round, an uneasy silence descended over the table and no one seemed eager to be the one to break it, not even Luna, who was not normally troubled by such concerns.

In the end it was Neville who braved the silence and began a tentative conversation with Pansy regarding the decorations. This was all it took to break the ice, and by the time the start of the feast was announced, all the occupants of the table were involved in superficial, but friendly, conversation.


The talk died down during the meal itself. Harry amused himself by watching the barely concealed looks of disgust that crossed Draco’s face at the table manners of some of the others. Both Dean and Neville had a habit of talking with a mouthful of food. It was a habit that Harry used to have, but since getting together with Draco, he had received a crash course in table etiquette and knew better than to do that now.

Harry tried his best to ignore the constant flirting that Daphne was indulging in with Draco. Although the blonde seemed to be encouraging the girl, Harry kept reminding himself that Draco was gay and wasn’t interested in girls. It worked too; right up until Harry looked down and saw a feminine hand slide onto Draco’s thigh.

Draco seemed to make no effort to remove it and Harry had to take several deep breaths to calm himself. He reached out a shaking hand for his goblet and ‘inadvertently’ knocked it over, causing the liquid to spill over the table and fall mainly into Daphne’s lap.

Daphne let out a girlish squeak and jumped up quickly, trying to save her dress. Harry fell over himself to make his apologies, but there was a look in his eye that let the girl know exactly what had happened and warned her against future actions. When he was satisfied that he had made his point, Harry got out his wand and cast a quick cleaning charm. He looked up and found Draco grinning at him wildly and, more disturbingly, Luna was looking at him with a knowing smile.


Once the meal was finished and the tables cleared, Professor McGonagall rose in her seat to make a brief speech. Very little of what she said was actually heard, most of it was drowned out by whoops and cheers after her announcement that the teachers would in fact be leaving them to their own devices for the rest of the evening. The Head boy and girl, along with the prefects, were left in charge of the proceedings as the teachers slowly filed out of the room, much to the glee of all concerned.

Only minutes later, the band took their positions on the stage, picked up their instruments and struck up a lively tune. Daphne was immediately on her feet.

“Draco, I just love this song. We absolutely have to dance to it.” She grabbed Draco’s hand and dragged him to his feet without even waiting for his response. Watching in amusement as the protesting blonde was pulled onto the dance floor; Harry turned to Pansy and held out his hand

“Shall we?”

“No, not just yet Harry. By the look of this, it might be worth just watching.” She indicated with a nod of her head and Harry turned to see what she meant.

The prefects had taken to the dance floor in an effort to get the ball rolling. In what, Harry suspected, was a blatantly forced display of interhouse unity, prefects from differing houses were dancing together. Hermione and Blaise looked good together, Harry reflected. But the amusement definitely lay in the fact that Ron was currently waltzing Millicent Bulstrode round the dance floor, trying his best to look relaxed, and failing miserably.

“Ron looks a little uncomfortable,” Pansy ventured.

Harry could do no more than burst out laughing, and he was swiftly joined in this by Pansy and the rest of their table.

It didn’t take long before the floor was filled. Harry felt a small twist in his gut as he watched the carefree couples pressed tight against each other, taking the moment of closeness for granted. He realised he would have given just about anything to be able to hold Draco like that, to let everyone see how much he loved his boyfriend. But then, Harry reflected, it might be an idea to let Draco know just how much he loved him before he started letting everyone else in on the secret.

Turning to speak to Pansy, Harry noticed a faraway look in her eyes. Following her gaze, he saw that she was watching Theodore Nott, who was currently dancing with Tracey Davis. Realising that Harry was watching her; Pansy tore her gaze away and blinked back unshed tears.

“Pansy,” Harry began softly. “Why are you here with me and not Theo? It’s obvious that you two like each other. Surely Draco would have understood if you explained it to him?”

Pansy smiled despite herself. “He did suggest it, but I didn’t want to. Besides, I think I’m the only girl he would have trusted with you.”

Harry looked a little confused at this. “But they all know I’m gay!”

“Yes,” Pansy agreed. “But they’re Slytherins and you are, quite frankly, hot. Besides, I wanted to come with you. What’s the point of a hag if she hasn’t got at least one of her fags at her side?”

Harry laughed at this but gave a warning nod in the direction of Dean and Luna, both of whom were oblivious to his preferences.

Several more songs had played out before Draco and Daphne made their way back to the table and by now, Harry. Draco flopped down into the chair at the side of Harry.

“I need a break, Daphne. You’ll have to give me a few minutes.”

The petite girl pouted at this. “Fine,” she huffed, “I suppose I should go and check my makeup anyway. You coming Pansy?”

The two girls took leave of their dates and headed to the bathrooms that had newly been transfigured out of one of the storage rooms at the side of the Great Hall.

Now that he was seated at the side of Harry, Draco took advantage of the closeness and slid his hand onto Harry’s thigh, his fingertips tracing circles on the sensitive flesh. At the unexpected touch, Harry let out a gasp before he could stop himself.

“Are you okay, Harry?” Luna queried, biting back the laughter in her voice. She had seen the movement of Draco’s hand and knew exactly what was wrong with Harry.

“Fine thanks, Luna,” Harry managed to choke out, casting a glare in Draco’s direction. Draco ignored Harry’s gaze and sat coolly as if completely unaware of what was happening, all the while inching his fingertips higher up Harry’s inner thigh.

Chuckling to herself, Luna got to her feet and went in search of refreshments for her and Dean. The dark boy sat fidgeting, his eyes flicking between Harry and Draco. Suddenly he cleared his throat nervously; causing both the other boys to turn their attention to him. As Dean’s gaze fixed on Draco, Harry could feel his boyfriend tense.

“Malfoy,” Dean began, uncertainly. “I just wanted to...um, you see...” He stopped here, burying his head in his hands momentarily. Just as the tension threatened to become unbearable, he looked up, his eyes once again fixed on Draco.

“Look, this isn’t easy for me to say, Malfoy.”

“So I see,” Draco responded dryly, unable to help himself.

“It’s just that Luna told me what you did for her when she was...” Dean tailed off again, uncertain how best to phrase what he wanted to say.

“Imprisoned by my family?” Draco supplied. His tone was perfectly neutral but Harry could see that his hands had clenched into fists so tight that his knuckles were white. Harry slid a hand over the fist and stroked it with his fingers until it unfurled and he was able to lace his and Draco’s hand’s together, giving a reassuring squeeze.

“Well, yes,” Dean nodded uncomfortably. “I guess that pretty much covers it. But you’re not your family and I don’t ... Look, what I’m trying to say is thank you. You didn’t have to do any of it, but you did, and I know what it cost you.”

Draco’s grip on Harry’s hand became painfully tight at this. “Please don’t mention it,” he managed to say, stiffly.

Dean stood up at this. “I guess I had better go and find Luna. She’s probably being attacked by Wrackspurts by now.” He held out his hand to Draco who took hold of it and shook slightly, a small smile on his face. Dean went to walk away but something occurred to him and he turned back to the table, a grin on his face.

“Oh, and I know I’m not supposed to know, but frankly that’s your fault for telling Seamus. But I just wanted to say that I think you two...well, it’s kind of fitting that you ended up together and if you ever decide to go public, well you can count on my support.”

Slightly shocked by that revelation, Harry turned a dazed expression to Draco. He noticed, with concern, that the blonde was looking paler than ever despite the warmth of the candle light. He held Draco’s hand and rubbed his thumb soothingly over his knuckles. He opened his mouth to speak but Draco cut him off.

“Don’t, please,” was all Draco said, but it was enough for Harry.

“Ok,” he replied with a gentle squeeze of Draco’s hand.

Before the moment had time to turn awkward, Pansy and Daphne returned to the table and both boys were promptly dragged onto the dance floor.

As Harry wrapped his arms around Pansy and moved to the beat of the music, he was amazed at how much easier he found it than on previous attempts. They managed to make it through an entire song without Harry once stepping on Pansy’s toes, a fact which did not go unnoticed by others.

Hermione and Ron were dancing close by and had noticed Harry’s improved dancing skills, or rather Hermione had noticed, Ron was too busy watching what his own feet were doing.

Hermione leaned over and tapped Harry lightly on the shoulder to catch his attention.

“Harry, you’re dancing!”

Harry flushed a little, “I don’t know if it’s exactly dancing,” he mumbled.

“Nonsense,” Pansy interjected. “You’re doing just fine; just remember what I taught you.”

“You gave him dance lessons?” Hermione enquired, a smile quirking at the edges of her lips.

Pansy let out a soft snort. “You saw the way he used to dance; of course I gave him dance lessons. I’m quite attached to my feet.”

Both girls chuckled at this and Harry didn’t know whether to be relieved that they were getting along or put out that they were laughing at his expense. Fortunately the band struck up again at that point so there was no need for further conversation.

It was several songs later before Pansy could be persuaded to take pity on Harry and allow him a break. They made their way back to the table and Harry went off in search of refreshments.

Whe Harry returned, the table was empty apart from the two of them and Harry took the opportunity to slip off his shoes and rest his feet on one of the empty chairs.

“These shoes are killing me,” he complained.

“Well don’t look to me for sympathy,” replied Pansy, slipping her own shoes off. “You should try wearing these damn things.” Without further words, she lifted her feet off the floor and laid them on Harry’s lap.

“Comfy?” he enquired.

“Very, now shush,” Pansy returned, raising her goblet to her lips.

They were still sat in just this fashion some minutes later when Hermione made her way over to the table. She gave them an apologetic look for interrupting what she believed was an intimate moment between the couple.

“Sorry to disturb you. I just wondered if you would mind if I stole Harry for a few minutes. I want to try out his new dance moves for myself.”

Harry shot Pansy a pleading look which was promptly ignored. “Sure,” Pansy replied, lazily. “Take him away and do what you will with him! Just so long as you return him in once piece when you’ve done.”

Hermione smiled at Pansy, “Thanks. Come on then, Harry.” She waited patiently while Harry slipped his shoes back on and stood up, unceremoniously dumping Pansy’s feet to the floor. Taking hold of Hermione’s hand, Harry began to lead her in the direction of the dance floor, pausing only to shoot a glare in Pansy direction.

Pansy returned the glare with interest and stuck out her tongue for good measure. She popped her feet up onto Harry’s newly vacated chair and sighed in relief as the ‘shoe induced’ throb lessened to a dull ache.

Her eyes followed Harry as he made his way onto the dance floor and she was filled with something akin to pride as he led Hermione confidently. Pansy noticed that she wasn’t the only one watching Harry’s progress. Despite Daphne’s best efforts to hold Draco’s attention, the blonde had eyes for no one other than a certain green eyed Gryffindor.

Not that this lack of interest did much to dissuade his partners interest. Daphne was pressed much closer to Draco than the dance called for. Her hips seemed to think they were moving to a Latin beat, judging from the writhing they were doing, rather than the slow waltz that currently filled the air.

Pansy made a metal note to discuss the concept of self respect with her fellow Slytherin at the next opportunity. There was nothing more desperate that a girl throwing herself at a blatantly gay man. Nobody knew that better than she did, Pansy thought. It had taken many years, and some fairly heated arguments before she had finally accepted Draco’s sexuality.

So lost in thought was she, that Pansy didn’t spot Ginny Weasley approaching until the girl was almost upon her. Not wanting to be at a disadvantage, Pansy stood up immediately, the adrenalin running through her veins eradicating all thoughts of aching feet.

“What did I tell you about staying away from Harry,” Ginny spat, her face bright red with rage.

Feeling more confident in the confrontation as they were in a room full of people, Pansy glared at the redhead and folded her arms across her chest defiantly. Further enraged by Pansy’s refusal to be intimidated, Ginny stepped even closer, so that they were almost toe to toe.

“Do you actually believe that Harry will choose someone like you over me?” Ginny was that close that Pansy felt a faint spray of spittle hit her face. She wiped her face delicately with her fingertips and allowed a smirk to cross her face.

“I rather think he already has, don’t you?”

Pansy saw the blow coming before she felt it. But it was so quick that she was unable to do anything but stagger slightly from the force of the blow. Again she smirked at Ginny.

“In front of witnesses, Weasley? That’s not usually your style.”

This time Pansy anticipated the blow and raised her hand quickly enough to grab Ginny’s wrist mid swing.

“That’s the last time you lay a hand on me.” The look she gave Ginny was pure ice and in that moment the redhead was faced with the Pansy Parkinson of old.

But Ginny was too far gone in her temper to heed any kind of warning sign. She wrenched her arm free from Pansy’s grip, her body fairly shaking with rage.

“Think you’re clever?” she spat. “You won’t when I tell them, when I tell the whole school the truth about you.”

“That’s enough, Ginny.” A sharp voice interrupted and Pansy almost collapsed in relief at the sight of Harry.

“Harry, I was...”

“Enough, I said.” Harry cut across Ginny’s speech, not sure he could control his temper around the redhead. He turned to Pansy, noting the faint tremors that ran through her body with concern.

“You ok, Pansy?” he asked, softly.

“Why are you concerned about her, Harry?” Ginny shrieked. “Do you know what she is? What she did? She’s nothing but a Death Eater’s whore.”

*CRACK*

The sound echoed loudly despite the noise filled room. Ginny stood, one hand pressed to her flaming cheek, staring at Hermione in abject shock.

“No more, Ginny. You’re getting hysterical.” Hermione was all Head girl now, her voice cold and it seemed to bring Ginny back to some semblance of reality. There was a look of pure disgust on Hermione’s face as she looked at the younger girl.

“I think it would be best if you left now, Ginny. Go back up to Gryffindor tower. I suggest you use the time to think about what you’re going to say to Professor McGonagall about this tomorrow.”

Ginny span on her heel and stormed off, tears of self pity streaming down her cheeks.

“Are you alright, Pansy?” Hermione turned to the Slytherin girl in concern.

Pansy only nodded in reply. Harry wrapped a steadying arm around her waist and guided her gently into a chair.

“Thanks, Hermione. I’ll take it from here.” Harry sank down into the seat next to Pansy, green eyes full of worry.

He tentatively placed a hand on her shoulders and felt that the girl was shaking. “Pansy, do you want me to get Draco?” Harry figured that maybe the blonde would be better placed to handle the situation than he was.

Pansy turned wide eyes to him. “No, don’t do that,” she said urgently. “He’ll only get angry and make things worse. I just need to sit for a bit. In fact, I need to go to the loo, excuse me a minute.”

Harry only nodded in response. Pansy probably had a point about Draco so he dismissed his first idea of involving his boyfriend. He watched Pansy as she walked unsteadily across the room, still unable to process just how far Ginny had gone.

He shouldn't really be surprised, Harry thought. After all, if he hadn’t stopped her that time on the Hogwarts Express, Ginny would have probably done worse. As he played the events over in his mind, things started to click into place for Harry. He was now convinced that Ginny had been the cause of the unexplained bruises that Pansy had sported a few weeks ago. What he couldn’t figure out was why Pansy hadn’t told anyone.

Harry sat mulling the events over for quite some time until it occurred to him that Pansy had been gone a while. At first he told himself that she was probably still upset and just trying to calm down before she came back. But when another 10 minutes went by and still the girl hadn’t reappeared, Harry started to panic.

What if Ginny hadn’t gone back up to the tower like she was supposed to? What if she had hung around and got hold of Pansy somehow? Harry scrabbled in his pocket for the Marauders map and his wand. Activating the parchment, he was relieved to see the dot marked Ginny Weasley was currently residing in Gryffindor tower. Upon closer inspection Harry finally located Pansy’s dot down in the Slytherin dungeons.

Barely pausing to grab his jacket of the back of his chair, Harry made his way out of the Great Hall and headed down into the dungeons. Pansy had seemed really shaken up after the confrontation with Ginny, and Harry needed to reassure himself that she was ok.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry hurried through the Slytherin common room, oblivious to the curious stares of various house members. He thanked any God that was listening that Slytherin girl’s dormitories were not like the ones in Gryffindor. The last thing he needed to deal with now was a staircase that turned into a slide at the first step of a boy’s foot on it.

He knocked tentatively on Pansy’s door. When there was no reply, he slowly twisted the handle.

“Pansy, if you’re in there, it’s me, Harry. I’m coming in.”

He opened the door and immediately spotted Pansy huddled on the floor at the side of her bed. Her eyes widened in horror at the sight of Harry. She dropped something to the floor and quickly clamped her hand to her arm, but not firm enough to stem the trickle of blood that made its way through her fingers.

In that moment, Harry felt the world stop. All that existed was the loud thumping of his heart and the trail of blood that was slowly snaking down the pale flesh on Pansy’s arm.

“Get out, Harry.” Pansy’s voice was weak and shaky, and Harry paid no attention.

He crossed the room in a few strides and sank to the floor at Pansy’s side. He took hold of her arm and slowly prised her hand off the cut. It wasn’t a particularly big cut, but it was deep, and the blood trickled faster now. Harry felt slightly sick at the sight, and ever sicker about the fact that even in this situation he found himself calmed by the sight of the blood.

He reached for wand and, holding it over the wound, whispered “Tergeo.” The excess blood was immediately siphoned away, leaving the clean cut bare on Pansy’s arm.

Harry produced the handkerchief that Draco had insisted he carry, and swiftly bound it round Pansy’s arm, instructing the girl to keep pressure on it until the bleeding had stopped.

This done, Harry allowed himself to look at the shaken girl.

“Do you want to tell me why?” he asked gently.

Pansy nodded slowly. “I think I should.”

“Let’s get comfy then,” Harry suggested. He stood up and practically lifted Pansy onto the bed. He climbed on also and leant against the wall, pulling Pansy towards him so that she was sitting sideways in his lap.

“Draco would have a fit if he saw this,” Pansy mused.

“I think he’d be more worried about you,” Harry answered seriously.

Pansy squirmed in Harry’s lap. “I’m not really sure where to start,” she said finally.

“Where ever you feel comfortable,” Harry replied, his hand rubbing Pansy’s back soothingly.

“It will take a while to explain everything.”

“That’s ok. I have all the time in the world to listen to you right now.”

Pansy snuggled in closer to Harry’s chest, not able to look at the boy while she told him her story.

“I guess it all started when they approached my father to join the Death Eaters. He didn’t want to join them. I mean, sure he believed in a lot of their theories, but he wasn’t a killer. Unfortunately it’s not exactly an offer you can turn down. Dad tried to say no, to explain he would be no good at it, but they wouldn’t listen. In the end they made him watch while they killed my mother and said that I would be next if he didn’t do what they wanted.”

Harry’s grip tightened round Pansy as he felt the tremors begin running through her body again.

“Pansy, you don’t have to do this now. It can wait till you’re feeling a bit better.”

Pansy shook her head stubbornly. “If I don’t do this now, I’ll probably never do it.”

She relaxed into Harry’s body again and picked up the thread of her story.

“Last year at school was awful. Blaise and Millie were gone, Theo just retreated into himself, and Vince and Greg had already become Death Eaters themselves. Draco and I only had each other. His family were out of favour with Vol-Voldermort by then so we were both watched really closely. Vince and Greg would spy on us and report back to the Carrows. I know the other students had it hard, but sometimes I think it was worse for us. Not even the side that was supposed to be ours wanted us. Draco tried to resist, but I couldn’t, I was too weak.”

Pansy pulled away from Harry’s body and looked into his face. He saw tear tracks coursing down her cheeks and reached out to brush them away.

“I know I was never a very nice girl, Harry. But I don’t like hurting people. If they thought we were being soft on the other students, they would punish us instead. They only had to use the Cruciatus on me once and I never questioned what they wanted me to do again. It just hurt so much.”

“I know,” Harry murmured, soothingly.

“I never really supported Voldemort, not properly and I certainly didn’t after they killed my mother.”

“So why...”Harry began.

“Why did I want to hand you over to him?”

“Um, yes.”

“Because I was angry at you. I thought that if you had just killed Voldemort like you were supposed to, then it would all have been over. I hated you so much at that moment and even though it meant that the Death Eaters would win, I just wanted it to be over. I was terrified that my father was going to be killed in the battle.”

“And then, after they evacuated the school, my father found me in Hogsmeade. We were going to escape together. He explained his plan to me; how we were going to disappear, go abroad. But before we could leave we were surrounded by three Death Eaters. They dragged us off, up to near where that haunted shack is. Then they made my father watch while they...” Pansy’s voice broke into a quiet sob here and Harry tightened his arms around her.

After a few moments, she seemed to regain her composure and spoke again, her voice still shaky.

“They raped me, Harry. They made my father watch that and then they killed him. I don’t know why they didn’t kill me. I think they thought that they had brutalised me that much that I would die anyway. Or maybe they thought it would be worse for me to live with the memories of what they did.”

Pansy broke down again at this and sobbed heartbrokenly on Harry’s shoulder. He held her tightly, blinking the tears away from his own eyes, and rocked her gently. He didn’t say anything, because really, what could you say to that?

“I told the Aurors that I didn’t know who they were,” Pansy’s voice was muffled against the fabric of Harry’s shirt. “But I lied, Harry. I knew who one of them was.”

Harry held his breath for a moment; a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knew what was coming next.

“It was Theo’s father. His father raped me and left me to die, and I can’t tell him because he doesn’t deserve to live with that knowledge. But I like him so much and it hurts that I can’t be around him, because he looks too much like his dad.

Harry let out a breath, feeling sick for Pansy but relief for Draco that she hadn’t just named Lucius as her attacker. Pansy looked up at him with sad eyes and spoke in a voice that still trembled with emotion.

"Draco doesn't know. I mean, he know's about most of it, just not that it was Theo's father. I don't think he would handle it very well."

Harry nodded in agreement. He rather suspected that if Draco did know, he would take it out on Theodore. And as Pansy said, it wasn't the boys fault what his father had done.

“But how does Ginny know about that?” Harry asked after a moments silence.

Pansy looked horrified for a moment. “You think she knows?”

Harry shifted uneasily, “Well, from what she said. She called you...”

“A Death Eater whore,” Pansy supplied.

“Well yeah,” Harry confirmed, uncomfortably. “I just figured that was what she was talking about.”

Pansy shook her head, “I don’t think so. There’s no way she could know that. There was no trial or anything so it’s not public knowledge.”

“So what was she talking about then,” Harry pressed.

Pansy tensed in his arms and was silent for a moment.

“Amycus Carrow,” she whispered. “It was one of his ways of punishing us if we didn’t cooperate

“He used to make you have sex with him?” Harry asked, horrified.

“Not sex exactly, but close enough.”

“But I still don’t get how Ginny would know this. Are you saying they did it to her too?”

Pansy laughed bitterly at that. “No, that particular pleasure was reserved for the wayward children of Death Eaters. Those who were too terrified to do anything but what they were told. Someone saw me once, when I was with him. I was in his office and his sister came bursting in, dragging some kid behind her. He didn’t even try to hide what he was doing. He just held on to me and forced me to carry on all the while he was talking to his sister. I guess that’s how Ginny knows; I suppose she’s not the only one either.”

Pansy lapsed into silence again, just holding on to Harry tightly for comfort. After what seemed like an age, she turned to him.

“So what about you?” she asked, softly.

“Huh?” Harry replied, confused.

“Why do you do it?” She traced her finger down Harry’s left forearm as she spoke, so he was in no doubt as to what she meant.

It was on the tip of Harry’s tongue to deny everything, to play dumb and pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about. But somehow, after the honesty that Pansy had shown him by telling her story, he felt he could do no less than the same in return.

“I’m not really sure,” Harry began uncertainly. “I guess mainly for the same reasons that you used to hate me. Because I blame myself for taking too long, for so many people dying. And because I’m Harry Potter and I’m not allowed to show weakness, I’m supposed to be this brave saviour, and the truth is I’m not and I wouldn’t know how to be. And then, on top of all that, it turns out that I’m gay. Which is just marvellous because Merlin knows I don’t stand out enough already.”

Harry paused for breath, before looking Pansy in the eye. “It just helps sometimes, you know?”

And Pansy nodded, because she really did know. “Can I see?" She asked quietly.

Harry looked at her curiously for a moment before rolling up his sleeve and removing the glamour on his arm. Pansy ran her fingertip lightly over the faded pink scars on his arms and looked at him.

“I haven’t done it in a while,” he explained.

Pansy nodded and then quietly removed her own glamour which revealed dozens of scars up and down the whole of her arm. Harry’s eyes widened as he took in the extent of Pansy’s problem.

“We need to stop,” he managed to say finally.

“I don’t know if I can,” Pansy replied honestly. “You won’t tell Draco about this will you?” Her tone slightly panicked at this thought.

“I’m hardly in a position to do that, am I?” Harry asked wryly. “But we can’t go on like this, Pansy.”

The girl let out a deep sigh. “I know, I promise to try.” She curled back up in Harry’s arms and snuggled against his warm body, revelling in the feel of his hands stroking her hair.

“We’ll be ok,” Harry murmured, his lips pressed to her forehead.

“I hope so.”

They lay like that; just holding each other, until the change in Pansy’s breathing indicated that the girl had fallen asleep. Harry managed to slide out from behind her and lay her gently down on the pillows. He picked up his wand and put both of their glamours back in place, before gently pulling the covers over her body.

Harry then cast a cleaning charm over his shirt to remove the blood stains. He stood over Pansy’s bed, just watching her sleep, marvelling that she found the strength to go on living after what she had been through. He leant down,placed a chaste kiss to her forehead and tucked the covers in tight round her.

“G’night, Pansy,” he whispered, closing the door gently behind him.

Draco was waiting for him in the common room when he entered. The blonde span round at the sound of footsteps.

“How is she?” he demanded before Harry had the chance to speak.

“She’ll be ok,” Harry answered, praying it was the truth.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” Draco explained. “I figured you were having a warm and fuzzy Hufflepuff type moment in there and I would’ve been next to useless in that situation.”

Harry walked closer to Draco and wrapped his arms round him tight. “I think you’re plenty warm and fuzzy,” he murmured as his lips pressed against the soft flesh of Draco’s neck.

“Harry?”

“Mhmm?”

“Do you think it was the She-Weasel last time? You know, when Pansy had those bruises and wouldn’t say what happened.”

Harry pulled back reluctantly. “It certainly looks that way now, but I’m sure she’ll tell us in her own time. Don’t push her on it; she’s a bit fragile at the moment.”

Draco looked at Harry thoughtfully for a moment. “She told you didn’t she? Pansy told you what happened to her.”

It was more of a statement than a question but Harry nodded all the same, struggling to hold back the tears that had been threatening to fall for quite some time now. He cuddled back up to Draco again.

“Can we just go to bed please? I just want to hold you.”

Draco wrapped his arms round Harry in return. He leant down and softly kissed away the tears that were slowly running down Harry’s face. “I think that can be arranged.”

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