1.

"Potter."

"Parkinson."

They stared at each other. Surprised that the other had attended this Ministry function.

Pansy had heard Potter had been sacked from the Auror program after he had a complete meltdown and attacked Head Auror Gawain Robards. No one really knew why he did it, but he'd been sacked afterwards though the rumor mill claimed he'd been forced to take an extended medical leave. Either way, not even the Saviour of the Wizarding World was exempt from attacking a superior.

Harry didn't think that she, of all people, would have the gall to attend a celebration on the anniversary that Voldemort had been defeated once and for all. He hadn't seen or heard from her in three years. In fact, Harry had never given her much thought after the last time he ever saw her.

"I heard you got sacked from the Auror program," she blurted out almost accusingly, and cursed herself for her lack of tact. Harry pulled his shoulders back uncomfortably, clearly ruffled by her words.

"Is that what they're saying now? Well." He took a sip of the goblet of pumpkin juice he had snatched earlier from a house-elf serving drinks.

They stood awkwardly, avoiding each other's eyes, pretending to be civil, even though neither wanted to be in the presence of the other. Harry had shown up because Hermione had insisted that he did. Pansy had shown up out of curiosity, mostly, and because she'd been invited by her best friend, Theodore Nott. Nonetheless, societal niceties had to be paid to the Hero of the Wizarding World even if he was as insane as people whispered behind his back. Pansy smiled grudgingly and Harry looked quite uncomfortable in her presence.

"So," Harry began, clearing his throat, and looking around. "Where's Malfoy?"

Pansy narrowed her eyes at him. Obviously, Potter didn't keep up with the gossip column of Witch Weekly. "Probably off with his betrothed," she answered bitterly before she continued. "Why would I know where Draco is? We're not even mates."

Harry stared at her as if she'd grown a second head. "What? I thought you two were engaged?"

Pansy laughed bitterly. "Engaged? Draco's parents have made it painfully obvious that I was not a desirable or suitable wife for their sole heir. I am not worthy to be a Malfoy."

Harry frowned at her bitter words. "I see."

She took a long drink of the Elf-made wine Theo had presented to her earlier before he walked away looking for a particular co-worker. "Don't worry, Potter. It was not going to work out between us anyway. Especially not after the stunt I pulled three years ago."

He looked away, remembering the night at the Great Hall. Pansy's voice ringing loudly amongst the silence:

"But he's there! Potter's there! Someone grab him!"

When he looked back at her, he found that she appeared to be lost in her own thoughts. "Excuse me," she whispered suddenly, and made a hasty retreat.

2.

"Parkinson."

"Potter."

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, smiling, drunk on firewhiskey. "Why are you here, Parkinson? I didn't know you were friends with Hermione."

"Drunk are we, Potter?" she replied, efficiently avoiding his question.

He frowned. "No. Not even nearly enough." He stared at the empty tumbler in his hand, and waved down a house-elf for more. The house-elf moved quickly and refilled the glass. Harry took a long drink of the alcohol and signaled for the house-elf to refill it before it left to serve others in attendance.

"Don't you think you've had quite enough to drink for the night?" Pansy asked amused. Harry turned to stare at her with eyes glazed over due to excessive alcohol, before replying angrily, "My best friend is marrying a snake. I don't think I've had enough to drink, Parkinson."

A dark shadow crossed Pansy's features before she schooled them back into place.

"Theo is not a snake, Potter!"

"He was a Slytherin," Harry answered, moving forward to look her in the eyes as if challenging her to correct him.

"I was a Slytherin," Pansy spat.

"You tried to hand me over to Voldemort," Harry answered triumphantly as if she had just proved his point while waving his hands around, spilling firewhiskey all over himself. Pansy looked at him in disgust.

"I don't need you to judge and prosecute me, Potter. I can do that all on my own," Pansy hissed before standing up and leaving in a whirlwind of swishing robes.

3.

"Potter."

"Parkinson."

Harry stared at Pansy in disbelief and just barely held onto the groan inside. Pansy didn't appear pleased either if the grimace on her face was anything to go by.

"So," Harry began tersely, "You're Nott's 'best man'?"

"And you're Granger's 'maid of honor'" Pansy snapped back. Harry groaned, and rubbed at his scar in frustration. Theodore walked up to them, looking slightly concerned. "Everything all right over here?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes, Theo, darling. Everything is spiffy," Pansy replied charmingly. Theo eyed her warily before looking over to Harry who plastered a fake smile on his face and nodded vigorously.

"Smashingly!" Harry replied deadpan.

"Good, good," Theo murmured distractedly while brushing off imaginary lint from his robes. "Hermione was worried you two wouldn't get along, but she'll be pleased. I mean, what a nightmare it would have been if the best man and maid of honor were to kill each other at the reception, right?"

Harry nodded vigorously while Pansy stared blankly at Theodore.

"All right, then!" Theo slapped Harry across the shoulder and quickly embraced Pansy. "See you both in a moment," Theo exclaimed as he walked away hurriedly to find his place at the altar. Harry sighed as he saw Hermione turning the corner of the hallway.

"Shall we get this over with?" Harry asked turning towards Pansy and extending the crook of his elbow to her. She looked befuddled but eventually hooked her arm in his and all but dragged him down the aisle.

4.

"Potter."

"Parkinson."

"Haven't seen you since Hermione and Theo's wedding," Harry began a bit awkwardly, not remembering much of the night. He vaguely remembered the fit Ginny had thrown when she found out Harry had to dance with Pansy Parkinson. Though, she had not been impressed when he told her that if she had gone, then they wouldn't have needed to dance together. Ginny had not shown up in protest of the break up between Ron and Hermione, which Harry found silly considering Ron had shacked up with Luna over two years ago, which was frankly long before Theo and Hermione fell in love and tied the knot. It had been quite a shock to everyone when Ron and Hermione broke up one day, and the next Ron just up and left with Luna off to gallivant all over the world. More shocking had been when Molly Weasley had sent the most impressive Howler Harry had ever seen at the news that her youngest son had eloped in Australia. Harry was almost sure Ron's ears had been ringing for days.

"Is that right?" Pansy answered sardonically. "Well, I've seen plenty of you, Potter what with your break up with Ginevra Weasley plastered all over the news. It looked like it was rather nasty that affair."

Harry blushed and looked away in embarrassment. His break up with Ginny had been incredibly painful since he had always wanted to be part of the Weasley family. However, Ginny didn't want to settle down, claiming they were still young while Harry was ready to tie the knot after both his best friends had done. Pansy smirked at his discomfort, but felt uncomfortable after a minute of silence.

"For what it's worth, you can do better than Ginevra Weasley, Potter." Harry turned to glare at her. "I don't want anyone else besides Ginny, Parkinson!" Harry moved quickly past her, knocking shoulders and pushing her slightly out of the way.

5.

"Parkinson."

"Potter."

"Listen," Harry began awkwardly. "I'm sorry about the last time we met. I –"

Pansy waved him off. "Don't."

"What?"

"Don't apologize, Potter. I was been intentionally cruel that day. I had just been fired from my job," Pansy explained quickly, ashamed to admit that she worked like a commoner.

"You work?" Harry blurted out.

"Of course I work, Potter! I do not have an inheritance to supply me with a life of leisure," Pansy scowled at him.

"I didn't realize. I just assumed that you were living with your parents…." Harry trailed off, biting his lip nervously.

Pansy narrowed her eyes at him in anger at the reminder of her parents. "My mother is dead, and my father is in Azkaban for his criminal activities."

"Oh."

Pansy stared angrily at Harry, challenging him to mention her father.

"Right. So what did you do?"

"What?" Pansy blurted out, confused at his question.

"What did you do? At your job," he replied, clearing his throat.

"Oh," she said, the fight in her dwindling. "What does it matter to you?"

Harry looked away. "It doesn't…matter. But it would. Nevermind. Just forget I mentioned it at all."

"Wait, Potter!" Pansy said as he hurried away. He turned around slightly with a confused look on his face. "I worked at Flourish and Blotts."

"Why don't you anymore?" Harry asked, walking back towards her.

She looked off into the distance before replying, "I don't want to work at a bookstore my entire life, Potter."

6.

"Potter!"

"Parkinson?"

"Welcome to my bakery! Would you like to try the blueberry scones?"

"This is your business?" Harry blurted out.

Pansy nodded. "Yes. After. After the last time I saw you, I decided to follow your advice and opened up this bakery." Harry blushed, remembering that they had spent the night of Theo and Hermione's Halloween party engrossed in conversation regarding their lack of occupations.

Harry had admitted that he had suffered through a bout of PTSD after the war and had to take a leave of absence from the Aurors. After seeking medical advice in the Muggle world from a psychologist, he chose not to go back into that career and spent most of his days gardening. He enjoyed the peace and quiet it provided and the sense of fulfillment it gave him.

Pansy had grudgingly confessed that she spent time in Muggle London the first two years after the war since she had no family to speak of no one missed her except Theo who had always been a close friend. She had only begun venturing into the wizarding world after three years at the request of her long time friend. However, she had a hard time keeping a job in the wizarding world and had considered going back to Muggle London working as a fortune-teller. She had always excelled at Arithmacy and Divination.

It had been surprisingly pleasant talking with her, and he was only slightly disappointed to part ways with her that night. Admittedly, Pansy played her cards close to her chest because she was no 'bleeding Gryffindor' but Harry was still able to learn several truths about her that night. One of those had been that she enjoyed baking so he'd suggested she open a bakery. He never thought she'd take his suggestions literally.

"Wow Parkinson. This place looks great!" Harry looked around at the bakery, taking in the smells and sights. There were several tastefully decorated cupcakes on display at the counter on a rack, and a multitude of pastries behind the window display.

"Is that treacle tart?" Harry gasped pointing at his favorite dessert.

Pansy smiled impishly and quickly walked over to the display and pulled out a slice. Then she walked to the counter behind her and deftly added a portion of clotted cream on the side.

"Here, Potter. On the house," she stated proudly. Harry walked closer to the counter and smiled shyly back at her. "I. Um. Thanks."

He took the proffered fork, and took a bite, savoring the treacle and breadcrumbs in his mouth. "Hmmm," Harry moaned. "This is delicious, Parkinson!"

Pansy smiled.

7.

"Potter!"

"Parkinson!"

Harry walked quickly to the front of the counter, smiling at the customers on the tables enjoying a plethora of desserts and drinks.

"Back so soon, Potter? Weren't you just here last week?" Pansy mocked him as she walked over to him with a box filled with treacle tart. Harry ducked his head before looking back up slightly embarrassed.

"Oh shut it," he said jokingly reaching for the box. "You know that you make the best treacle tart in town. You've ruined me for all other bakers," he moaned. Pansy laughed and waved off the Galleons he tried to give her. "Your money is no good here, Potter. I've told you this every week for the last five months."

Harry scowled. "You can't keep giving me free pastries forever, Parkinson."

She smirked at him in challenge. "I can try."

They stared at each other for a minute longer before Harry looked away embarrassed. "So. Business seems to be booming," he remarked offhandedly.

"Yes. It has really taken off. Who knew that Pansy Parkinson would be the most renowned baker of the wizarding world only a year ago?"

"I did," Harry said proudly.

"No, you didn't," she replied.

"Yes, but I encouraged you to open a bakery, didn't I?"

Pansy smiled fondly before replying, "You did, didn't you?" Harry looked at her confused, realizing something had fundamentally changed, but not quite been able to put his finger on it.

Pansy shook her head and then said, "And that's why you get free pastries, Harry Potter."

8.

"Potter?"

"Parkinson!"

"What are you doing?" Pansy screeched as she caught Harry digging through her garden.

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Planting peas?"

"Why?" Pansy almost screamed perplexed.

Harry stared at her as if she'd gone mad. "Why? How can you even ask me why? Parkinson, your garden looks horrid. Have you been back here at all since you moved into your house? There's no carrots or peas here. Where do you even get your potatoes from?" Pansy sniffed at his tirade.

"We can't all be master gardeners, Harry Potter," she replied angrily. "Now, get out of my garden." She pointed an imperious finger at the gate of her home.

"No."

"What?"

"I said no. You've been giving me treacle tart for over a year and I am going to pay you back somehow. If that means I have to tend your garden for you, then so be it. It's not like I have anything better to do."

"What?"

Harry laughed. "Are you deaf, Parkinson? Do I need to repeat myself?"

Harry didn't see the Stunner, or how long he was left outside to face the elements alone.

9.

"I think you should call me, Harry."

"Why?"

"We've been friends long enough."

Pansy blinked. "Okay. Harry." She sipped delicately from her Butterbeer. "You don't get to call me, Pansy though."

10.

"Pansy."

"Potter."

"Harry."

"Harry."

"So? Is it true?" Harry asked without preamble as he walked around the counter of Pansy's bakery, Pixie Pies and Pastries, and snagged an apron, tying it around his waist.

"You do realize, you don't actually work here, right?" Pansy mocked, raising her brow at his demeanor.

Harry shrugged. "I'm on to your Slytherin method of answer my question with another question, Parkinson."

"Took you long enough to figure it out," she muttered under her breath. She handed him a box of Pumpkin Pasties as she excused herself quickly from the customer she had been serving. "Ring Gertrude up, will you? I have to finish mixing a couple more batches for the Quigley wedding and Clifton decided to Floo in sick. I sent him home before he contaminated all my batches this morning."

Harry took the box and walked to the counter, smiling at the young woman. "One Galleon." She handed him the coin, which he deposited into the register before following Pansy to the kitchen. He found her rolling out piecrust at one counter as ten mixing bowls all stirred themselves at a variety of speeds on the counter behind her.

"Do you need help?"

She shook her head. "Not back here. I'm fine. Just, if you could tend the front until closing? That'd be grand." He nodded and walked back out. After a couple of hours of helping customers, Pansy appeared at his side. "How's it going out here?"

"Great! Though several of your regulars were wondering where you were." She nodded and walked back into the kitchen. Harry frowned. Suddenly, she showed up at his side holding a plate with a prawn and mayonnaise sandwich. "Hungry?" she asked. He nodded and dug in happily.

"Thanks," he muttered between bites. Comfortable silence filled the space between them as Harry finished his sandwich and Pansy puttered about the bakery cleaning up as the shop slowed down a couple of hours before closing. He stood at the counter, admiring her figure and the way she had filled out since opening her shop. Her curves had become more pronounced and Harry would be a liar if he didn't admit that he was quite attracted to his friend.

Suddenly, Pansy was standing next to him. "Thanks for helping today. You always seem to show up at the most opportune time," she said. Pansy took off her apron and walked to the corner and hung it up. Harry did the same, and helped her clean up. After she closed, he escorted her home where she invited him in for tea.

They sat quietly across from each other in her tiny kitchen, drinking tea. "It's true," she said. Harry stared at her confused. "What?"

Pansy looked away. "It's true. You came in earlier and asked me if it was true." Harry frowned at the confirmation that Pansy had been dating Reginald Cadwallader, the Hufflepuf Quidditch Chaser two years above Harry in Hogwarts. If Harry remembered, he was a complete wanker, and he didn't understand why Pansy would date him. "Where you planning on telling me?" he asked suddenly angry.

"Tell you? Why would I?" Pansy snarkily replied. "You have no right!"

"No right?" Harry barked. "I'm your friend!"

"That's right, Potter! You're my friend! That's all we are. I am free to date whoever I want," she screamed, pushing her chair back across the floor as she stood up hastily.

"I don't understand," Harry began. "Why are you even dating Cadwallader? What do you even have in common? He's a Hufflepuff for Merlin's pants!"

"Oh, that's rich," she huffed. "Longbottom is married to that Hufflepuff, Hannah Abbott."

"That's different!"

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is!"

"No. Now get out of my house!"

"Fine!" Harry all but screamed at her, stomping out of the tiny bungalow in a fit of anger.

11.

"Cadwallader."

"Potter

"I have a bone to pick with you," Harry said tersely, holding his wand tightly at his side.

"Is that right? And what would that be, Potter?" Cadwallader warily replied, eyeing Harry's wand at his side.

"Pansy Parkinson."

"That cow?" Cadwallader laughed but stopped short upon seeing Harry's wand thrust upon his face.

"Pansy is not a cow," Harry angrily proclaimed. "And you're the bastard that broke her heart."

"Wh-What?" the other man stuttered nervously. "Broke her heart? That's…." Cadwallader looked confused, and angry before blurting: "She broke up with me, Potter. Said she was in love with someone else. That we couldn't date anymore. Imagine that, Potter, a Slytherin been noble. I could have given her everything she lacks: a life of leisure. She'd never have to work again her life."

Harry stared dumbfound at the other's proclamation, and lowered his wand. "What? Then? Why? I don't understand," Harry murmured to himself as Cadwallader pushed past him and stomped to the end of the alley in a hurry to get away.

"Potter," the other man called out from the entrance to the alley. Harry turned around looked at him expectantly. "You're an idiot," he bellowed before Apparating.

12.

"Oh, Harry."

"Hermione."

Hermione embraced Harry tightly as he confessed his feelings for Pansy. Her heart broke for her friend and the wistfulness in his voice. "I don't think she'll have me, Hermione."

"Why not?"

"I just know."

"Have you even tried talking to her at all?"

"She won't see me."

Hermione frowned.

"Are you a Gryffindor or not, Harry Potter?"

"What?"

"I said, are you a Gryffindor or not? Stop your bellyaching and go after her! Ron went after Luna. Chased her half across the world before she agreed to marry him. Theo courted me for months. If you love her, then go after her!"

13.

"POTTER!"

"Parkinson!"

"POTTER! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" shrieked Pansy as she took the state of her bakery; the counter and floor were covered in pansies of every color imaginable.

"You don't like it?" Harry asked a bit crest-fallen.

"Like it? Are you mad? Have you finally gone fully around the bend, Potter? Why would I like all these flowers lying about my place of business?" Pansy raved angrily.

Harry stared blankly at Pansy. "Well?" she prompted, waving her hand around imperiously.

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to apologize for this mess?"

A beat of silence of followed before Harry said loud and clear: "No."

"Thank you-Wait! What? No? What do you mean, no, Potter?"

Harry marched up to Pansy with a determined step. He stared into her eyes and took in the flash of emotions that gave her away. Cadwallader had called him an idiot, and now he could see why. But it was the blush that stained her cheeks, which gave her away in the end.

"Potter?" Pansy whispered.

He embraced her and muttered in her ear: "No, I'm not going to apologize because it took me so long to figure out my feelings for you."

Pansy sniffed. "Took you long enough," she said while laughing brokenly.

Harry pulled away from their embrace. "I'm going to kiss you now, Parkinson."

And he did.

Coda:

"Parkinson!"

Pansy turned around wondering who was bellowing her name and saw Daphne Greengrass hurrying to catch up with her.

"Greengrass," she greeted cautiously. She hadn't seen or heard from the other pureblood since they left Hogwarts.

"It's actually Zabini nowadays" Daphne said off-handedly before continuing. "How have you been? Haven't seen you in ages." Daphne's eyes shifted down to take in the bulge of Pansy's stomach. Pansy patted her pregnant belly protectively.

"I am quite well."

"Heard you opened a posh little bakery."

"Indeed, I did. Pixie Pies and Pastries over in Hogsmeade. It's very popular with Hogwarts students."

"Is that right? Hm. Well. I hadn't heard about…," she waved her hand up and down to signify Pansy's obviously protruding stomach.

Pansy smiled coldly. "Oh, this? Well. I got myself knocked up by Harry Potter of all wizards in England. Got ourselves married. I'm Parkinson-Potter now."

"You married Harry Potter?" Daphne hissed.

"I did," Pansy said. "Just last night! Before I go into labor, we can't after all have the first-born son of the Chosen One as a bastard, can we?" Just then, Pansy spotted Harry coming out of Florean Fortescue’s holding her ice cream. She waved him over.

"Excuse me, Zabini. There's my newly-wed husband," Pansy said before waddling over to him, and leaving the former Slytherin gaping.

"Pansy," Harry exclaimed happily. "Was that Daphne Greengrass?"

"Zabini," she said reaching for her ice cream cone. "Was quite shocked that we got married."

"I don't blame her. Who knew you'd end up a Potter after that stunt you pulled over seven years ago?"

"Potter! How dare you bring that up?"

"Harry, Pansy. By Merlin's pants, call me Harry."

"Potter!"

"Harry! We're married now, Parkinson. As your husband, I demand you call me by my given name."

Pansy took a tentative lick of her ice cream before smiling innocently at Harry. "As you wish, Potter."