Song Suggestion: alt-J – "Hunger of the Pine"

A/N: This fic will have several povs that will all converge. The breaks in time will be filled in until they all reach the present. I feel like Pansy is an underrated and underwritten grey character, and I LOVE writing her.

A Cabin in the Woods

3 years after the Final Battle

Pansy

Pansy wasn't sure how she got forced into playing babysitter. The night started out promising. It was the third annual celebration of Victory Day, and her mother had been planning their angle for weeks.

"You need to be innocent yet alluring. You're competing with the remaining bitches of the light. For some reason, the men find them appealing."

Pansy knew the reason: you don't tell men like Draco Malfoy they can't have something. Pansy tried for years to get his attention. Her seduction attempts always failed because it was too easy. One word to their parents and they'd be engaged on the spot.

She was twenty-one, nearly the age where pureblood girls became spinsters if they did not marry. Her mum was becoming a nag about it, and truth be told, Pansy was starting to get worried as well.

She cared less for the trappings of marriage. They did not suit her. She knew what was expected from her as a potential high society wife, and she would become it if she must, but the thought of her never-ending future made her stomach tighten.

Especially since, at this point, most of the young men were taken: Blaise had Weasley; Draco had been suckered into an arranged engagement with the younger Greengrass sister; Nott told her years ago he hated her; and Goyle had the Looney Bin. She could go on, but it would be redundant.

Her choices dwindled until all that was left were men like that sick freak Avery or the younger Lestrange brother. Pansy would rather suck slug slime.

However, today the choices widened. The celebration drew many wizards from across the world. Eligible bachelors from Romania, Russia, China, and multiple other locations were supposed to be in attendance. Like a multi-cultural candy bowl ready to be devoured.

It was one of the last times she would have to snag a husband that would appeal to her.

And now it was all ruined.

She wore a gorgeous outfit for the event. A little black robe that fit snuggly around her curves, as scandalous as was allowed with Pureblood traditions. It didn't place much emphasis on her cleavage, since she had little to begin with, but displayed her long legs and trim frame. She wore her short hair in curls, spending hours on makeup, buffing herself to perfection.

And it was all for nothing.

Bellatrix grabbed her arm as she had walked through the Hogwarts castle to the great hall and redirected her to the nursery.

"Listen dearie, you're on guard duty tonight."

"But," she protested, "The elves—"

"Are you questioning me?"

Pansy shook her head, displaying her survival instinct. No one questioned Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Good. You'll be relieved of duty at midnight."

Midnight! Her anger sprouted extra heads. By midnight, her entrance would be pointless. By that time, most of the wizards would be drunk or gone to smaller parties.

They walked into the nursery, and she saw close to ten children. The only one that mattered sat in the center of the room, scooting around on a toy broom, changing his hair color every few minutes—Teddy Lestrange, formerly named Teddy Lupin.

"Listen sugar lump," she knelt before the little boy, "mummy is going to a party. Be good for Mimpsy and Miss Pansy."

The little boy nodded, probably not understanding and continued his little scoot in the circle.

Pansy tried not to let it shock her, but it always did to see the most feared witch playing mum. And truth be told, she was quite good at it. It was no secret Bellatrix was barren, despite all magical interventions. Too much dark magic sifted through her veins. So shortly after the Final Battle, she stole the little half-breed, her prize for her loyalty from Voldemort, killing Andromeda in the process.

"He's my blood," she once said when Avery made a disparaging comment about his werewolf heritage. "The last of my family line, besides Draco. And the next person who questions my motives will have their entrails on the floor."

No one questioned it again.

Who could have guessed what Bellatrix Lestrange wanted more than anything else in the world was a baby?

"Parkinson," she snapped on the way out, "If anything happens to the tykes in my absence, I'll dice you into little bits and eat you for dinner."

Pansy gave a silent nod, swallowing the lump in her throat, knowing the threat was literal. Bellatrix had done it before.

She whirled out of the room, a flurry of dark robes and unmanageable curls.

Pansy leaned against the wall with arms crossed, trying to tame her anger, her hopelessness.

So this was it? She'd have to marry and bed some geriatric death eater, living a life devoid of passion.

Her attention stayed on the little ones in the room. After several hours, the room emptied as the parents came to pick them up. Thirty minutes before midnight there were only three left. Teddy had curled up in a corner, sound asleep. Next to him, a tiny infant slept in a cot, the product of that horrid Peter Pettigrew and some poor girl he raped and married. If rumors are to be true, the mother killed herself shortly after the birth, and Pansy didn't blame her. She'd kill herself too if she had to fuck that rodent.

Lastly, there was a small girl named Nym. She sat silent in the corner, not having played or talked in the whole duration of the night. She was a pretty thing, but the child of a blood traitor. Still, she was a pureblood so Voldemort ordered the Carrow twins to foster her. Pansy did not envy her, remembering their idea of discipline at Hogwarts.

The elves stayed out of sight, since Teddy was frightened of them, and would not come back in unless she called. They only came in briefly to deal with the baby and to conjure a pillow and blanket for Teddy. It left Pansy in a comforting silence that almost lulled her to sleep. She leaned her head against the wall in abject boredom and couldn't stop her eyes drooping as the clock tick-tocked a steady rhythm.

She bolted upright with a noise at the door.

"Damn," someone hissed. Red and orange sparked under the door, and the door bulged in and out.

Someone was trying to get passed the wards, and from the looks of it, succeeding.

What. The. Fuck.

In a hurry, she swooped up little Pettigrew in one arm and little Teddy in the other. They began crying from being roughly woken. Nym crawled over and hugged tight to her leg. They had just enough time to cross the room before the door burst from its hinges, slamming heavy against the opposite wall.

A disheveled man walked in with a holster attached to his upper body with several extra wands and a muggle gun slung low on his hips. But the defining feature was his dark red hair.

A Weasley, no doubt about it. But not Ron, of course. It was one of his twenty older brothers.

His eyes scanned the room, wand pointed at the ready.

Pansy scrambled in the folds of her gown. Her fingers barely touched the wood of her wand.

"Expelliarmus!" It flung across the room, leaving them without protection.

"Elves!" She called, but none showed up, and they wouldn't. They were nursery elves, unable to fight grown wizards, especially one that looked as rabid as the one before her.

"I thought… I thought," he stuttered as if finally taking in the contents in the room: just an overly dressed girl and three children. "Where is she?"

He pointed his wand at her throat and stomped forwards. Pansy trembled. She was not courageous, nor was she built for dueling.

"Who?"

"Ginny."

Right, his sister. He was on some sort of rescue attempt, but his calculations went wrong somewhere. Blaise's apartments were several rooms down, where a heavily pregnant Ginny Weasley slumbered, unable to attend the celebrations.

"You don't have time to find her" Pansy said, thinking quick. "The elves probably already informed Bellatrix, and she is already on her way up to slaughter you. This is her son I'm holding. Is it worth her wrath to stay?"

The Weasley spawn looked crushed for a moment, as if some hope in him died. He dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that must be a portkey.

"Not that you will, but if you see Ginny, tell her I'm alive."

"Which one are you?"

"Charlie."

The Dragon Tamer.

She gulped and nodded. Anything to get him to go away.

He almost did, but it was at that moment Teddy changed his hair from black to bright purple. Charlie looked as if something struck him.

"That's not Bellatrix's kid," he hissed. "That's Tonks' little boy."

She gripped the children tighter and tried to press harder against the wall, as if to escape. But there was nowhere to go. He was too big, too threatening, and he looked as if he wanted to gut someone.

"Give him to me," he said.

"No."

She'd die first. It would be much more pleasant than if she failed to keep the boy.

Charlie didn't listen to her and ripped Teddy straight from her arms.

Several things happened at once, almost too fast to process. Bellatrix slammed through the remains of the door with a howl, Charlie activated the portkey, and a desperate Pansy lunged forward, accidently touching the paper, a baby in one arm and Nym stuck to her leg.

There was a moment of shocked silence before with a stomach-churning whoosh of a portkey they were sucked away, leaving a furious Bellatrix behind.

Pansy

Pansy landed hard against the ground. The baby rolled out of her arms and squealed, half-buried in a pile of leaves. Nym sniffled somewhere. Pansy stayed prone, unable to regain the air into her lungs. Dark trees loomed overhead, only slivers of moonlight filtered through the treetops. They were in a forest.

But where?

A menacing figure leaned over her, patting her arms and legs with callused hands for any other weapons. She was unable to stop him, still attempting to suck in a breath.

"Are any bones broken?"

"My ankle," she managed. She had originally landed upright, but a sudden pop in her ankle crumpled her.

He examined it for a moment.

"I think it's just sprained." He rested on the backs of his ankles.

"The kids…"

"They're alright. I checked them first." She managed to glance over. Nym held the Pettigrew brat, who still squealed with the panic of the moment. Teddy sat next to her, tears puddling in his eyes and a thumb in his mouth. "You're a stupid girl. Do you know how much danger you're in?"

"You tried to take him."

"Yeah, and now I don't know what to fucking do with you." He glanced at the kids. "Not to mention three extra." His face thundered for a moment, and he tugged his hand behind his neck and up and over his hair, keeping the palm of his hand against his forehead a moment.

She attempted to scoot backwards, understanding his quandary rested on if he should kill her. But before she could go any further, he had his wand pointed between her eyes.

"Don't move." His mouth was covered by a thick beard, but she could see that his lips twitched up and down in irritation as his eyes roamed over her face, taking in every detail. He seemed like he was born from the wild, perfectly at home in this unholy place. They stayed that way for several minutes before his face relaxed.

He stood.

"Come on, get up. You'll need to suck it up about your ankle because I can't carry you plus the kids."

She just looked at him in a stupor before scrambling to her feet. She hissed, unable to put full weight on her right foot, but still able to stumble around on her broken shoes.

He placed the baby in her arms. The squalling increased.

"You'll need to keep up. It's an hour journey to our destination, and if you slow me down, I'll take the kid and leave you."

She took a moment to study the thick, dark forest surrounding her. The trees seemed sentient, ready to swallow up any trespassers. Random hoots and growls of unseen animals reverberated around her. If he left her, she'd be lost and wandless, at mercy to the cruelty of nature.

He began walking without preamble as Pansy scrambled for a solution or a proper escape.

Pansy

Pansy gasped in agony with each step. As the night went on, the pain increased until the tears leaked down her cheeks at a steady pace. The dragon tamer did not lie or slow his pace for her. She stumbled after him, clutching the baby to her chest. Baby Pettigrew—she had begun calling him Pete—had stopped fussing a long time ago and fell asleep with the movement.

The agony was never-ending, and Pansy briefly thought about sitting down and giving up, but her fear won out and she trudged along.

"What's your name?" Weasley asked, voice gruff and low.

"Pansy."

"In this world, last names are more important. I'm going to need it."

"Parkinson," she ground out.

"Parkinson, huh? Your older brother is Orion?"

She hesitated.

"Yes."

"Your brother is a waste of human life. Let us hope, for your sake, you don't prove the same."

She almost agreed. She never shared any sibling affection for her brother. He was always brutish and joined the Death Eaters straight away. He was the reason she knew of the dragon tamer. Her brother would rant about him at home. They were bitter rivals, as the dragon tamer beat him at everything: grades, popularity, quidditch. Charlie Weasley was a bit of a legend in his time, something Orion couldn't compete with.

Looking at him now, at the ripples of muscles along his arms and back as he clutched Teddy to his side, she could see why. He looked more beast than man.

"How much further?"

The Dragon Tamer stopped for a second, and Pansy relished the small break. He glanced back at her several times up and down, his features clouding with something.

"Not long. I can heal your ankle when we get there. We don't have the time to do it now."

He planned to heal her. That was a good sign, right? But on further thought, she suddenly became wary. What did he plan to do with her? He was on the light side—the side with supposed moral views—but she had seen enough of war so far to realize the light did not always possess the characteristics they praised. Charlie Weasley was still a man, a powerful wizard, and she was just a girl without a wand.

There were many urges that weren't exclusive to sides, and the taste of human flesh was one of those.

"I think this little one needs a nappy change," she said, wanting another break.

"It'll have to wait."

Nym stumbled for the fifth time beside him, and he swung her up in one movement. The little girl rested her head on the man's shoulder, opposite of Teddy, and in just a few moments they were both asleep.

"But," she protested, wanting her pain to end, "If we don't change—"

Charlie swung around, his face livid, and he sneered at her in a way she hadn't experienced since Professor Snape. As if she was a silly adolescent, who shouldn't speak without being asked a question first.

"There are things in these woods that would gobble you up as a snack. Things much scarier than Dragons. It would be foolish to stop and rest."

"Why did the portkey take us to the woods and not a house or something?"

"So that if someone got a hold of it, they wouldn't be able to find the location".

"Oh, well… but why can't we just apparate?" She sounded whiny, even to her ears, and he was getting annoyed with the questions. She could tell by the tense lines in his shoulders.

"The magic in this forest is thick, ancient, and unstable. I won't attempt any magic unless in emergency until we get back to my cottage, which is why we need to move fast."

His cottage.

A spike of fear went through her. She glanced at the trees. As night went on, they seemed more sinister.

Pansy made up her mind, sucking in a gasp with the pain, and began walking forward again. Charlie gave a nod and followed.

Pansy

The cabin materialized out of the woods. One second it was a wall of never-ending trees, the next there was a small cottage. It had a thatched roof with a chimney. Its base was made of stones, cobbled together.

"We're here," Charlie said.

Some would call the cottage charming, Pansy would call it a dump, unfit but for the basest of rodents. But the pain in her leg throbbed, and she couldn't go on anymore.

She collapsed before she could enter. Charlie gave a sigh.

"It's not far."

"I can't go on," she blushed at her weakness. Never in her life had she endured such prolonged physical pain. She had always been pampered and coddled, even during the war.

Charlie hesitated, as if unsure what to do. Finally, he shifted the two toddlers in his arms.

"I'll go lay them down on the guest bed."

He disappeared into the cottage, leaving her in darkness to shiver with dread. Tears threatened to fall again, and this time it wasn't from the pain. How did she get here? Just last night she slept in a mansion with silk sheets, and now she lay here bedraggled and dirty. Pine needles stuck to her hair, with her ankle swollen and throbbing. But the worst thing of all: she was with the enemy. A man she couldn't read who could break her bones with a flick of his wrist.

Pansy took off her broken shoes carefully, unlacing the straps to reveal dried blood, discolored skin, and blisters rubbed raw.

The cottage lit up. The innards glowed, attempting to battle the darkness of the forest. Charlie exited again. When he reached her, he bent down and scooped her up as if she weighed nothing. His chest was a furnace against her. His arm curled under her knees, touching bare flesh. Pansy refused to show how awkward she felt and leaned as far away from him as she could, refusing to look at him. The babe lay in her arms, mouth opening and closing.

"He's waking up," she said, "He's very little. What happens when he gets hungry?"

Charlie sighed again. It just now occurred to her that he may be as exhausted and downtrodden as she felt. Not only did he fail his mission, but he now had four hangers-on.

"I'll apparate to the nearby village and get him some formula."

Village? He ears perked up, a plan forming. If the village had a floo network working, she could be gone before—

"Muggle village." He gave her a warning look as if he could read her mind. "And it is nearby to apparate, not to walk. You are surrounded by miles of virgin magical forest, filled with ferocious beasts just looking for a stupid young maiden to devour. And if you're lucky enough not to be eaten by the beasties, then you will probably stumble onto the dragon reserve I help manage. And they don't like trespassers much either."

With each of his words, her heart sunk and sunk until it reached her toes. Her hopes could not go any lower.

She was good and truly stuck.

Pansy

He deposited her on a queen bed, tucked against the wall of one of the rooms. After, he went back to the fire in the main room. She could see him from her seated position. With one hand, she felt the patchwork quilt below her. It looked homemade.

"Where are the kids?" Pansy asked. She cradled little Pete in the crook of her arm. He began to make small fussy sounds and rooted his face into her skin.

"In the guest room."

"Where am I supposed to sleep?"

He stopped and turned around. She wasn't sure if his cheeks turned red or not, but the freckles pronounced themselves with the glow of the fire.

"You can go to sleep there."

"But isn't this—um, well, isn't this your bed?" She asked. The fear and wariness were back. What did he expect from her?

"Yes."

"Can I sleep with the children?"

"It is only a small sofa," he shrugged. "There is no extra sleeping arrangements. It makes more sense for you to sleep where you are. Besides… I'd rather have you close in case you get any stupid ideas."

Her heart palpitated.

"And will you be sleeping here too?" She tried to train her voice to be calm and cool.

"Of course."

She began to panic. The sensation rose in her chest, and she resisted the urge to clutch at her heart, as her breathing increased. When she looked back up, the Dragon Tamer was leaning on the doorframe to the bedroom, poker in one hand, pressed to the wooden floor.

"I'm not going to touch you," he said in a soft voice. "You don't have to be scared."

"I'd rather sleep on the floor."

"Once these flames go out, nighttime here tends to get very cold, even with warming charms."

"I can manage."

"Suit yourself."

After a few minutes of rummaging around, he came back clutching muggle money. "I'll be back in a few minutes with food for the baby, and then I'll heal that ankle of yours."

He winked out, leaving her alone for the first time. She attempted to stand, but a sharp pain shot straight up her leg, making her groan out loud. He didn't heal her first on purpose.

By the time Weasley returned, the babe in her arms was squalling again, balling little fists and trying to suck on them. Charlie held two bags.

"I'll need to wash the bottles and mix and warm the milk. It might take a few minutes."

"He's frantic," Pansy said. The sound of the baby crying so helplessly made her want to do the same. The minutes felt like hours as he rustled around in the kitchen, turning off and on water. But eventually, he came back in through the doorway, holding a bottle of milk.

Pansy took it from him and shoved it into the baby's mouth, not sure if she was doing this right at all, but he latched and sucked at a fast past. Halfway through, the baby slowed down, and his eyes fluttered open and closed as if tired.

Pansy felt eyes on her. She glanced up to find the Dragon Tamer looking at her as if studying for a test she wasn't sure if she was passing.

"You look uncomfortable," he said.

She readjusted the position of the bottle, so the baby would keep sucking. "This is actually the first time I've ever held a baby."

"You don't look like your brother much, except for your nose and your eyes."

My pug nose, she mentally added. At least, that was what she was teased with in school. Her father said it was a little button. But she knew better. As she got older, she came to terms with it, but it still stung.

"You know, he's one of the only people in the world I've wanted to Avada."

She almost gave away a shiver. If he hated her brother, would he seek out some sort of revenge on her? She needed to separate herself from Orion somehow.

"I got my mum's coloring, while Orion looks like my grandfather. And I'm not sure I like him much either. We barely even speak to each other."

He nodded.

"You were in the same year as Ron, right?"

Pansy hesitated and then nodded. Then she bit her lip, knowing it was a sore subject for him. After all, it had been a year almost to the day he had been publicly executed.

"I'm guessing you two didn't get along."

"Not much," she snorted. After a moment, she added, "I'm sorry that he well… that he's…"

She wasn't sorry. She didn't loathe him like Draco did. But he was a traitor, and his family member was currently keeping her captive. That cancelled any sympathy in her. However, if the Dragon Tamer saw empathy from her, maybe he'd treat her well.

Charlie didn't respond to her apology. He just tightened his jaw and looked at an opposite wall, as if lost in memories.

The baby finished eating. Pansy tried to hold him like normal, but he began to cry, arching his little back.

"What's wrong with him?" Pansy asked.

Pansy felt the weight of the mattress shift. Charlie sat next to her and held out his arms.

"Here, give me the tyke."

Charlie took him and put him over his shoulder, rubbing small circles on his back. Eventually, the baby released a little burp and calmed down. Charlie curled his nose.

"You're a stinky little one," he said with a small smile. He went to a cabinet got a blanket and then went to the bags he brought in, pulling out a stash of nappies and wipes. Pansy watched in fascination as he placed the blanket on the bed and started to undo the babies little outfit.

Never in her life had she seen a grown man change a nappy. Or even a woman. That's what nursery elves were for. The sight shocked her.

"What's his name?" Charlie asked.

"I'm not sure. I started to call him Pete because his father is Peter Pettigrew."

At the name, Charlie shuddered in revulsion.

"I don't want to think how that came about."

Pansy agreed. She always found Pettigrew repulsive.

Charlie opened the diaper.

"Well, it looks as if little Pete is a girl."

Pansy snorted, surprised she could laugh after all she'd been through. Charlie smiled back, as if pleased with the sound. She wished he wouldn't. His smile seemed real, as if she could trust him.

"Well, let's hope this isn't a sign the poor girl inherited her father's looks," she said

This time it was Charlie's turn to snort.

"What should we call her?"

"I guess…" Pansy started but then stopped to think. "I guess we can call her Petra, since it's the girl version of Pete."

Charlie finished the diaper change.

"You seem to know what you're doing with an infant," Pansy said.

"Well, I have five younger siblings, and…" he stopped as if something struck him. "No, I guess now I only have three… I think."

"Ginny is very much alive," Pansy said, unsure why she was trying to comfort him. Pansy never tried to comfort people, though now she was in a situation she never thought she'd be in, and she supposed it was best if her captor were in a stable mood.

"How is she?" He asked softly, "Is she finding any happiness?"

Pansy hesitated. Truth be told, Pansy thought Ginny was sort of a shrew. Blaise deserved better.

"Well Blaise treats her nice, and she's about to give birth."

"She's pregnant?" he boomed, on his feet in a second, his softness erased.

Pansy flinched backwards, and Charlie frowned and then sighed.

"I'm not mad at you," he said. "It's just… a shock. I didn't want this for her."

She calmed herself on purpose. After a while, she responded.

"If it makes you feel any better, I've never met a fiercer witch. She's terrifying, and I'm pretty sure Blaise is a little scared of her too."

Charlie gave a twisted smile.

"That she is."

They sat in silence as Charlie swaddled the baby in the blanket and rocked her to sleep.

"Where will she sleep?" She asked.

Charlie walked over and opened a dresser drawer. He put a few folded blankets in the interior and laid Petra within.

"That'll have to do for now."

Once the baby was asleep, Charlie turned around and the space between them became awkward and heavy. She hadn't realized it, but the children had been a buffer, and now that they were all asleep, she felt very much alone in the presence of a grown man.

"Let me see to that foot."

He walked over and sat on the bed, cradling her ankle in his hand. His fingers brushed over the swollen skin that was already turning ugly shades of blue and purple.

He tapped his wand gently across the entire injury, mumbling the spell under his breath. There was a sudden sharp pain that made her gasp, and then instant relief as the tendons and muscles healed. In total, he worked on it for a solid three minutes, under total concentration.

"Feel better?"

"Yes," she said. His hand still cradled her ankle, and it was suddenly too intimate. She tugged it away. Charlie rubbed the back of his neck and stood.

"You can…"

"Well, I'll just… yeah…" Pansy mumbled, grabbing a pillow and relocating to the ground.

"I don't have any more blankets," Charlie said.

"I don't need them."

He looked as if he would say more. But instead he peeled off his shirt and crawled into bed, curling himself under the covers.

Pansy's cheeks burned, trying to erase the memory of her captor's bare torso. But the image stuck. He had a wide chest and thick muscles, defined on every inch of his upper body. She was used to boys with thin frames. Charlie Weasley was something she had never seen.

Of course, he's fit, she scolded herself, he's a fucking dragon tamer. He doesn't sit around a manor and eat duck confit all day.

But her reasons did nothing to slow her heart. Under all her snap and bite, she was just a girl. The legends of him were true—he was ridiculously handsome in a woodsman way.

"Weasley?"

"Yeah?" He flicked off the lights in the lamps, but the fire still roared in the other room, though it was dying without attention.

"What's going to happen to me?"

It wasn't a question someone should ask their captor, but she did anyway.

"I don't know," he answered. "Nothing yet. Just go to sleep and we'll worry about it in the morning."

Pansy agreed and sent a silent thanks to whatever God listened that the Dragon Tamer did not have the desire for unwilling flesh.

A plan already formed in her mind on how to kill him.