Lansy One Shots

'Cause Hiding Always Hurts

Summary: Moments in Pansy Parkinson's life and how they involved Luna Lovegood.

Ship: LunaLovegood/PansyParkinson

All credit goes to vendettadays on Ao3

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Dirigible Plums

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The first time Pansy saw Luna was on a sunny afternoon when she was eight. It was a meeting hardly worth noting, a moment that could have been forgotten had her mother kept her opinion to herself. Had her mother not pointed across the street to where a little girl was holding the hand of a woman, presumably her mother, Pansy would have walked along Diagon Alley without a clue.

But her mother had done none of those things. She had tutted loudly enough to draw Pansy's attention away from the perfume bottles on display in the shop window of the perfumery they had just left.

"Don't mix in with those sorts." Her mother's upper lip curled, expression twisting like she had eaten something sour.

Pansy didn't ask what "those sorts" were. She didn't have to. She was eight, almost nine years old; young enough that curiosity still bubbled inside her like a potion in a cauldron, but old enough to know when to hold her tongue. There was a time and place for questions, and not all questions were meant to be asked. Some things just were.

"Yes, mother," replied Pansy without missing a beat. No one would ever accuse Lady Cynthia Parkinson of not knowing how to educate her daughter.

Her mother reached down and took Pansy's wrist in her hand. For every one of her mother's steps, she took two to keep up with her mother's long strides. Together they walked towards the girl and woman with their heads held high, back straight and disinterested gazes focused ahead. Just like her mother had taught her. Pansy bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from looking.

When they got closer, Pansy couldn't help the way her eyes veered from the front and to the side. The girl was shorter than Pansy. Her long hair reached her waist and was untied, and was a little messy and wild. It was a look that Pansy would never get away with. Not even at home. It wasn't just the girl's appearance that was different. It was the way she smiled—wide and showing her teeth—and chattered to her mother so excitedly.

Smile like you're hiding a secret, Pansy.

Pansy, you should speak carefully.

"Mum, I saw it! There really was a Blibbering Humdinger."

"I believe you, Luna. But you know how timid those creatures are." The girl's mother wore a kind, gentle smile as she smoothed back the girl's hair and tucked it behind her ear.

Pansy stared at the girl's ears. Who in the world wore radishes for earrings?!

"But I wanted to catch one to take back to Dad." The girl—Luna—pouted and added quickly, "so he could write about it, not because I wanted to keep it. They shouldn't be kept in cages, you know."

Pansy jerked forward when her mother tugged at her wrist, and she quickened her pace. She put her head down and focused on the cobblestones beneath her shoes, knowing she had been caught her staring and that if she looked up, her mother would be looking at her with a disapproving gaze.