panniny/ginsy, angst, canon compliant
The Great Hall was silent. Voldemort's cold, hissing voice reverberated across the walls of the castle. Everyone stood still.
"Give me Harry Potter and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight."
Everyone else swung their heads in the Chosen One's direction who remained frozen in the middle of the Hall.
Pansy and the rest of the Slytherins glared at him.
Here was grace. Here was a chance for escape at last.
They can curse Pansy for being selfish, too self-preserving as was expected from her Slytherin traits. She didn't want to fight anymore. Frankly, she was just as scared as the rest of them.
She was not brave, not a Gryffindor for Merlin's sake. Most of all, she's not like her.
Her. That sodding red-head Weaselette who has polluted her brain and crept up into her after all these years.
Pansy lifted a trembling finger towards Harry Potter's direction, "But he's there! Potter's there! Someone grab him!"
There was a two-second moment when time seemed to have frozen after she spoke. Even Blaise wasn't in any hurry to back his own friend up. Her eyes still followed Potter, intent to stop him from fleeing, until she found herself eye to eye with Ginny Weasley.
The redhead stepped in front of Potter, shielding him with her body.
There, on her pretty blue eyes, was a look of betrayal. Pansy could feel her own face mirror hers.
After those months of banters, of helping her and her stupid Gryffindor army smuggle contrabands into the castle, of lingering stares, of lying to the Carrows thrice to keep her ginger arse from getting tortured, of the smell of cinnamon on her warm hair. The Weaselette was mistaken for thinking that Pansy ever worked for the greater good and not for her own, nefarious reason.
Of course, Ginevra would still choose Potter in the end.
The rest of the Gryffindor House crowded around him, then the Hufflepuffs, then the Ravenclaws.
Pansy wondered if she had been born a man, styled her silky raven hair to his perpetually untidy ones, then maybe– just maybe.
But this wasn't a time for those things.
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