Waterloo

Canape 5: Waterloo

Pansy and Harry sat at the bar in the Leaky Cauldron and watched Ron get rejected for the seventh time that night. Ever since Hermione Malfoy-Granger had returned from her honeymoon, she had been on a crusade to improve unity in the Wizarding world and secure lifelong happiness for her circle of friends. ‘What else did we fight for?’ she would ask when any objections were raised.

That she’d hit on a solution both successful and efficient surprised no one, least of all her doting husband. In fact, Pansy was certain he was backing the scheme. In two years, she’d heard the bridal march so often she hummed it in her sleep. And the roster of newlyweds was rather impressive: Gregory Goyle and Susan Bones, Ginny Weasley and Blaise Zabini, Luna Lovegood and Theo Nott, Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott, Millicent Bulstrode and Ernie Macmillan—the list went on and on from there.

But then Hermione had met her Waterloo in the form of one Ronald Weasley. Pansy silently snorted. Really, it wasn’t like the swot didn’t have firsthand knowledge of the Weasel’s unique blend of tactlessness, immaturity and complete inability to quit while he was ahead.

Pansy sipped her butterbeer and snorted again, this time audibly. Ron’s current target had just left a visible handprint on his right cheek. Harry glanced over at her and they rolled their eyes together.

“This is impossible,” Harry grunted.

“Agreed,” replied Pansy. “That idiotic book of his didn’t work. And neither did Zabini’s expert lessons. Why on Earth did she think we’d be able to help?”

“She thought he’d have a better chance in the bars and we’re her only single friends left to play wingman.” Harry shrugged. “Hermione has a tough time giving up on anything. At least you’re not stuck here with Zacharias Smith or Cormac McLaggen.”

“Merlin forbid!” Pansy exclaimed while shuddering. “Relatively speaking, you’re fantastic company.” She sighed at his hurt look. “Harry, surely you know that’s Slytherin speak for best friends forever.”

He took a deep breath. “Just friends?” he asked as his finger stroked her inner wrist.

She closed her eyes, trying valiantly to ignore the tingles skittering up her arm. “If we do this, she’ll be insufferable.”

An uneasy silence stretched awkwardly between them as certain coincidences occurred to them independently.

“Bugger!” he breathed and his finger dropped away.

A favorite expression of Draco’s, having to do with birds and stones, flitted through Pansy’s brain.

The Malfoys really would be unbearable. Next thing they knew, they’d be attending the Snape-Trelawny nuptials.

They were both grateful for the distinct sound of a smack echoing through the nearly empty pub.

“That makes nine,” Tom, the bartender, noted.

Pansy and Harry stood, putting their cloaks on. Ron stalked by them without a word, headed for the Floo. They turned to follow when Tom cleared his throat.

“See you next Tuesday, then?” he asked with a grin.

Harry and Pansy’s only response was a heartfelt groan.

~*~*~*~*~

Originally written for the pphp_ldws lj community

Prompt: "You can lead horse to water, but you can't make him drink."

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