Fic idea/request: Ginsy + “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” I've recently fallen in love with Ginsy (and your writing), so when I saw you were taking fic requests, I couldn't resist requesting a short story about the two of them! <3
Oh, that’s so nice to hear! Hope ya like it!
Prompt #5: “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” (Read it on AO3)
Pansy Parkinson had a problem with Ginny Weasley. Not the kind in which she wanted to sell her out to the Dark Lord (contrary to popular belief, Pansy did not relish in such activities–the incident with Potter last year was a necessary evil). It wasn’t even the kind of problem that made her want to curse the Weaselette. No, this was the kind of problem in which Pansy wanted to kiss her, and hold her, and do naughty things to her in the Room of Requirement. In other words:
“Kill me, Draco,” Pansy said histrionically, swooning across the blond so her head rested in his lap. “I can’t take any more.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Pans, you’re acting like a Hufflepuff.” The potency of the jab was diminished by him running his hand through her hair. She hummed softly at the gesture, peeking through lidded eyes to see if anyone was looking. Thankfully, everyone seemed focused on the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match, so her eyes fell shut once more. While it was common practice for Slytherins to be affectionate with one another in private, it was quite another matter to do so in public. Even with their so-called “reformed” status since the war, some rules stayed in place.
“Is she scoring a goal?” Pansy asked, peeking through her eyelids again. A quick glance at the pitch gave her an affirmative. Pansy squealed and buried her head.
“How in Merlin’s name are you rationalizing this behavior?” Draco asked. Pansy knew from his tone that he was making his I-can’t-do-this-right-now face. It made him look like Lucius when he supervised their play dates as children. She didn’t mention this to Draco, however, because comparing him to his father was like asking to be jinxed.
“She looks like a phoenix,” Pansy said. “All that red hair and confidence, and that Slytherin smile she flashes after she throws the Quidditch ball–”
“Quaffle,” Draco interjected lazily.
“–through the hoops. And Draco, dear, must I remind you of your seven-year obsession with the Golden Boy?”
The Malfoy heir smirked. “Eight-year obsession. This last year it just happens to be requited.”
Pansy couldn’t deny that. The Slytherins had mocked Draco for years about his crush on Potter, but none of them ever thought anything would come of it. After Potter broke things off with Weasley, however, it just sort of…happened. As if it was fate or destiny or some other crap. Draco Ice-Prince-of-Slytherin Malfoy, and Harry Stupid-Scar-Tattoo Potter became Draco and Harry. And that was when Pansy’s problem began. Once Potter started hanging around with the Slytherins, Draco began dragging a seething Pansy to spend time with the bloody lions. To spend time with her.
At first, it was torture–as was to be expected when one was forced against their will to socialize with their inferiors. But then Pansy and Ginny started talking, and it was actually…really nice. Better than nice. Better than seven-inch-heels-and-a-latte nice.
…and then it was torture again because Pansy had gone and done the most cliche thing in the universe: she’d fallen for her straight friend. At least Draco had fallen for his enemy. That story had intensity and spunk written all over it. Meanwhile, Pansy had to go and become a tragic pining lesbian. It was unbecoming.
“Why don’t you just tell her and get it over with?” Blaise asked from beside them.
Pansy frowned up at Draco. “Has he been here the entire time?”
Draco shrugged. “I’ve only got eyes for Potter’s arse on that broom.” True to his words, his grey eyes tracked the Gryffindor Seeker more closely than they ever did the Snitch.
“Shameless, that one,” Blaise said, shaking his head.
Pansy groaned. “I can’t ask her out. If she liked me back, she’d do the Gryffindor thing and tell me herself. Since I haven’t received any confessions of love from the drop-dead gorgeous Quidditch witch yet, I’d say that’s out of the question.”
Blaise raised a brow. “You’ve never had trouble asking out people in the past.”
Pansy’s eyes rolled out of her face. “Yeah, well they’ve all been guys, and it’s hard to build up nerves when you don’t give a rat’s arse if they say no.”
A wicked smile crossed Blaise’s face. “That could be it, but I think something else is going on here.” He leaned in closer, and Pansy didn’t think she was going to like what he said next. “Pansy’s in love.”
Pansy’s jaw dropped. “Am not,” she said stubbornly, well aware of how childish she sounded.
“Are too,” Draco piped in.
Pansy huffed. “Just because I’m nervous about asking out Ginny Weasley does not mean I’m in love with her!” she shrieked. The students around her were staring, but she didn’t have time to tell them off. Her eyes snapped up almost unconsciously until she was looking directly into wide brown ones. Pansy’s blood went cold as she realized the Gryffindor Chaser was far nearer than she’d thought, and ohdearmerlinsheheard.
Blaise was snickering like this was the funniest thing to happen since the time they got Draco drunk enough to admit his feelings for Potter. Draco, on the other hand–her real friend–was petting her hair somberly. At least someone understood how dire this was.
“Fuck me,” Pansy breathed, still unable to comprehend what had just happened. Slytherins were supposed to keep their secrets buried. They were supposed to play it cool and only share their vulnerabilities with other snakes, if at all. They were not supposed to shout about their unrequited lo–crush–for the whole Quidditch pitch to hear–especially if that crush was a girl, and a Gryffindor at that. A Weasley, even.
Involuntarily, her eyes flicked up again to find Ginny gazing at her with an unreadable expression. Gryffindors weren’t supposed to be hard to read. They were supposed to be blustery and obnoxious and wear their hearts on their sleeves. Why oh why was tradition failing Pansy now, of all times?
Daphne appeared then, and Blaise stopped his snickering. They all knew the drill. Pansy and Draco’s sexualities were to be kept secret from anyone outside their trio (and Potter, for obvious reasons). Originally, Pansy and Draco had agreed it would just be between the two of them–they even served as each other’s beards for a few years–but Blaise had wiggled his way in. He’d agreed to keep their secret from the others, however, so instead of getting Obliviated, he joined their crew.
Daphne was not in the know. It wasn’t that they thought she’d be a bitch about it, but it was kind of a touchy subject since Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had arranged for Draco to marry Daphne’s sister Astoria. Finding out he was gay wouldn’t exactly be reassuring.
“How’s the match going?” she asked.
Blaise shrugged. “Gryffindor’s beating them to a pulp, so I guess we’ll be playing them for the cup.”
Daphne wrinkled her nose like that meant something to her. Maybe it did. Pansy couldn’t understand everyone’s obsession with Quidditch. Well, she understood Draco’s–his obsession was relatable. Pansy tried to avoid Ginny as she watched the match–she was likely to give everything away if she made eye contact for even a second–but that mostly meant watching the Seekers (which was boring) so Pansy soon fell into a conversation with Daph about the latest gossip. Her own horror story would have to wait for later.
As they left the match, Blaise pointedly dragged Daphne ahead of them. Pansy wasn’t sure if it was to help her or because he was trying to get into Daphne’s pants, but she was grateful either way.
“Parkinson!” the voice she’d been dreading called out.
Draco locked eyes with Pansy to see if he should stay or not. When she shook her head minutely, he squeezed her hand once and trailed after the other Slytherins.
Inhale…
Exhale…
Inhale–
Pansy turned on her heel so she was facing the Gryffindor Chaser. Ginny was out of breath like she’d run right off the pitch to catch up with her. Pansy wanted to squeeze her eyes shut because the other girl was too much for her cold gay heart, but that would be incredibly immature, so she refrained. Ginny’s hair was in its Quidditch ponytail high on her head, and her skin glistened with sweat. Pansy’s breath caught in her chest. The flush on those freckled cheeks and the slight parting of those chapped lips seemed downright pornographic. How was it even legal to look that good after riding a stick through the air for an hour?
“Hi,” Ginny breathed.
“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” Pansy said instead of offering a greeting.
Ginny quirked her head to the side. “I kinda figured.”
Pansy didn’t know what to say, but she was pretty sure her heart had jumped out of her chest and was doing a jig, so maybe that was response enough.
Ginny wore a bemused expression on her face like she was puzzling through something. It created a little furrow between her brows that Pansy thought she’d rather like to kiss. “I hated you for trying to turn in Harry, you know,” she said finally.
Pansy nodded, feeling the rejection in the air. “I hated me too.”
Ginny bit her lip. “And you treated everyone like garbage for years.”
“I did.”
“All that pureblood nonsense.”
“Yes.”
“And the bullying.”
“I’m a terrible person, Weasley, I get it,” Pansy grumbled, flicking her hair out of her face.
Ginny smiled–one of those bright and confident smiles that made Pansy feel like she was higher than a broom could take her (if she wasn’t deathly afraid of flying). The Gryffindor shook her head. “I don’t think you are. I think you were stuck on the wrong side of a terrible war and you did what you were taught–what you needed to do to survive.”
Pansy swallowed. “Weasley, the human brain can rationalize anything when it wants to. Don’t make excuses for me.”
Ginny shot her a crooked grin. “I’m not rationalizing for you. I’m rationalizing for me. I’ve got to come up with something to say to my friends when they ask me why I snogged you after the match.”
Pansy’s brows furrowed. She was prepared for rejection, but she wasn’t ready for whatever this was. “You didn’t snog me.”
Ginny raised her brows. “Well, now that I’ve done all this rationalizing, I suppose I’ve got to. You know, to make the effort worthwhile.”
Pansy’s eyes widened as she realized this wasn’t rejection at all. It was something a million times better. She glanced around to see if they were alone (they weren’t) but Ginny had already pressed her lips against Pansy’s, and suddenly Pansy had better things to think about than who could see them. In fact, she rather liked the idea of not thinking at all.
Ginny’s lips were soft but insistent, and her tongue set Pansy on fire. As Pansy’s hands wrapped around the taller girl’s neck, she tasted salt and strawberry chapstick. Ginny’s hands found Pansy’s hips and pulled her tight against her. Pansy thought she might just die, but she didn’t know what they’d do with her afterward since even heaven couldn’t beat this.
They finally broke away, breathless and close enough to each other that Pansy could see tiny freckles hidden between the more prominent ones.
“So…” Ginny said mischievously. “What does it take to get Pansy Parkinson to fall in love with me? Because I don’t do the whole unrequited thing.”
Pansy considered with a smirk. “A few more kisses like that would probably do it.” As an afterthought, she added, “And maybe some cuddling.”
Ginny feigned shock. “The famous Pansy Parkinson cuddles?”
“Only with stunning Quidditch goddesses.”
“Mmm, I hope I qualify.”
Pansy gazed at her studiously. “We’ll see.”
Ginny shoved her, flashing a playful smile. They started back to the castle together, and as they walked hand in hand, Pansy decided that maybe sometimes it was okay for Slytherins to act like Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors to act like Slytherins if it meant her slip-up could lead to a make-out session with the girl she lo–liked. After all, there wasn’t much traditional about this, and she sure as hell wasn’t complaining.
so, i'm 100% here for ginny and pansy as a couple. can you imagine how it would be like? hooking up in bathroom stalls. oversized varsity jackets. high heels in the evening. barefoot in the morning. reading trashy magazines together. expensive champagne. cheap beer. morning fog. red lipstick. wet hair. lace lingerie. sad songs about star-crossed lovers. the calm before the storm. embarrassing each other in front of their friends. <3
TBH I was keeping your ask because it made me so happy and I think it’s the exact time to post it so I can have nice positivity right now. Pansy and ginny would 100% be that gross couple that keeps kissing in front of everyone and be super inappropriate and probably also have public fights but at the end of the day everyone sees them as the absolute power couple. And like, they probably scare everyone when they’re together because everybody knows they’re strong and dangerous and super hot. And I looove how you described them, we all know they have the absolute best style
ginny was the rebel. pansy the bitch. they hated each other for quite a long time, before they realized fighting the world together was way more enjoyable.
