Setting: the Great Hall, during the Hallowe'en Ball
Rating: PG for drunkenness, and questionable situations
Summary: Spiked Hallowe'en candies lead to...er.
Pansy stalked away from the stage, seething. I'll teach him to reject a Parkinson, she thought angrily. Who did the Bewitched Boys think they were, anyway? Just because they were the biggest wizarding hit in a century did not give them the right to refuse her! Pansy fumed. Well, she'd show them. She approached the punch table and poured herself a drink, wishing it was a Firewhisky.
Not far from where she was seething, Fred Weasley was skulking around the food table with a plate of candies in his hand, courtesy of Winky, and was popping handfuls into his mouth and glaring darkly at Ginny. He wished that he has some alcohol on him, but unfortunately, McGonagall had very explicitly told him that if any liquor of any kind was seen at the Ball, she would have him shot, stuffed, and mounted in the staffroom.
Pansy, not noticing the other figure located in the shadows by the table, muttered audibly, "Damn that Ginny Weasley. How dare she steal my prospective Bewitcher."
"Got that right," said Fred, not caring who he was talking to. "What's she trying to pull? Comes jaunting in with Harry, and then starts coming on to that bloody boyband bloke."
Pansy half-started. She turned to see Fred Weasley behind her, looking very s…er…smart in a pair of very new-looking dress robes. Most unusual for a Weasley, she thought contemptuously, and tried to hide from herself the fact that she could almost see a pair of very shiny, leather-y pants from beneath the folds of his robes. "High talk coming from the brother of that poor excuse for a witch," she said.
"I tried my best with her, but she refuses to listen," Fred said. "So now I ceremoniously wash my hands off her. And celebrate," he held up a Firewhisky-filled candy mockingly, "with candy."
"What a brat," said Pansy, helping herself to a candy without asking. She chewed experimentally. "What flavour are these, d'you know? They taste familiar."
"I don't really give a damn," Fred replied, passing Pansy the plate and taking another from the food table. "Tastes pretty bloody good though." He shovelled some more into his mouth. "Ginevra, on the other hand, is foul."
"Mmrmph," agreed Pansy politely, accepting the plate and popping another few candies into her mouth. She stopped chewing long enough to dart another glare at where the lead Bewitched Boy was eyeing Ginny, who seemed caught between a rock and a hard place, as Harry was also eyeing her, but rather angrily.
"Yes, whatever 'mmrmph' means." Fred turned his back to Ginny. "You know, I wonder why I even bother with her. I have to clean up after all her messes, and she keeps nicking my broom all the time without telling me." He seemed to be talking to himself more than Pansy, who was busy shooting death-glares at Ginny.
Pansy nodded vaguely and snatched up a few more candies from the plate. They definitely tasted familiar...but Pansy couldn't be bothered to remember what they reminded her of. Her head was spinning pleasantly by now. She supposed the anger was making her a bit light-headed. She tried to take a deep breath.
She swayed and Fred's arm shot out hastily to salvage the platter of candies she was holding, but Pansy fell against his arm instead, much to Fred's annoyance. He stared mournfully at the plate, which clattered to the floor, scattering candy everywhere, then at Pansy, and decided that it wasn't too bad having a girl instead of candy, even if it was only Pansy Parkinson.
Pansy looked up at Fred. "Waste of good candy." She did not bother to remove herself from Fred's arms, as it would simply be too much work. Pansy did not even have enough interest in saying something scathing towards the former Gryffindor.
"All your bloody fault." Fred shifted his arm so that she would be leaning on his chest, leaving him with both hands free to stuff his face with candy.
Pansy snaked her arm round Fred's waist to reach the candies from the table behind him. "Plenty more to go round."
He grudgingly lowered the plate so that she could reach it, and watched with much discontent as she grabbed a handful. "One at a time, it's not all going to go away, dearie," he snapped, grabbing several at once himself.
He really had to find out what Winky put in the candy. Maybe a Cheering Charm—his bad mood seemed to be lowering proportionate to the number of candies he ate.
"Hrnnn...hynnn...hypocrite," Pansy managed around a mouthful of candy. "Better to take advantage of something while it's there, anyway."
Fred didn't say anything, but raised an eyebrow and stared at her.
"Re - ea - lly?"
"Reeeeally." Pansy giggled. There was something that she ought to be connecting to these candies... She paused a moment and promptly forgot what she had been thinking about. "Reeeeally," she repeated, and took the opportunity to pop a candy into Fred's mouth.
Fred felt it was only common courtesy to return the favour, so he grabbed to smallest candy on the plate and offered it to her.
Pansy smiled, her nose crinkling puggishly, and accepted the treat, gazing up at Fred.
She was starting to look strangely attractive to Fred, so he fumbled around his mind for a good pick-up line, and snatched the first sentence he could think of.
"I like bunnies. And Quidditch. And sex."
"And maybe even knitting," he added brightly.
"I don't like knitting," said Pansy. "Or bunnies. I don't like Quidditch much, either."
"Oh," said Fred. "Okay." After all, one out of four wasn't too bad, he supposed.
"I like your pants," said Pansy.
"Me too," said Fred.