The Love Of A Good Wizard

Prophecies and Promises

"Something's happening," Harry stated. He had abducted Pansy from Minerva's clutches under the guise of needing homework help that was so trivial, he was embarrassed to ask Tom about it. Minerva had laughed at him, and Pansy had played the role of exasperated cousin quite well; Harry was thoroughly fed up with role-playing himself.

It had taken them a few minutes to get away, because Minerva wanted to know all about Tom's heroic rescue of Myrtle the previous evening, but eventually, Harry had managed to get Pansy to follow him to an empty classroom neither of them had ever been in.

"Is this about yesterday?" Pansy asked, worried because Harry seemed very much on edge and hadn't required one of these talks for a while. "Because if you ask me, Harry, that was a wonderful thing for Tom to do!"

"Of course it was. And yes, it sort of is. But... oh, just look!" Harry held the hair back from his forehead.

Pansy gasped. "It's almost gone!" Breaking into a smile, she enthused, "But that's great! It has to be a good sign."

Sighing, Harry let his fringe drop back down over the nearly invisible scar. "The kind of sign someone with Tom's intelligence doesn't miss, Pansy."

"Oh, Merlin." Her face fell. "What did he say?"

"He asked me why it's fading, because he knows that I know - not that I do exactly, but I have my suspicions."

"When did it start fading?" Pansy asked, sitting down in the nearest chair.

Harry sat on the desk in front of her, his fingernails nervously scraping the rough wood surface. "After we went to Diagon Alley, well... London, rather. Muggle London."

Pansy nodded, pondering this. "And ever since, it's been like this?"

Harry shook his head. "No, it only faded a little then. It got like this after last night. After Myrtle."

Pansy assessed him for a good minute. Finally, she said softly, "What are you thinking, Harry?"

"I'm thinking that each time Tom saves a life, my scar fades further." Pansy's eyes widened. "There are other things I'm thinking too," Harry continued. His voice was quiet... worried, and Pansy frowned. "You know that prophecy about me and Voldemort?"

"Something about neither living while the other survives," Pansy mused. "Harry, I don't think--"

Harry shook his head. "No. But I think that's rather turned on its head now along with just about everything else." He smiled sadly. "Speaking for myself, I couldn't live without him anymore."

Pansy gazed at him sadly. "Have you told him how much you love him?"

By this point, Harry was blinking, avoiding her eyes. "I have no right to, Pansy. I've been lying to him - for good reasons, I know - but still, I've been lying to him since we got here. And I don't... I can't..." There was a choked sound in the back of his throat.

Pansy rose and moved forward to hug him, and he held onto her. "I know, Harry. I know," she muttered softly. "I'm getting that way myself. A dozen times a day, I want to just come out and tell Minnie." She sighed against his shoulder. "Your side of it is so much harder, I know. It's not that strange not to go home to your parents during the winter holidays, but eventually..."

Harry drew back. "What are we going to do?" he asked, sounding quite desperate.

"What do you want to do?" Pansy chewed on her bottom lip. "Harry, I'm going to go along with you on this, whatever you decide. We're here because of Tom, so it's your decision."

"It hasn't been my decision since I sat down next to him at the Slytherin table," Harry mused ruefully. "This was always going to come up, wasn't it?"

Pansy nodded. "But the 'when' and 'how' are up to you."