The next day, Pansy was absent from classes—something that Draco and I both found odd. Pansy was always the most studious in Slytherin, even more than I was. After morning classes, during lunch, when she was still absent, I took a tray of food, along with a Pepperup Potion, just in case she was sick.
"Pansy?" I knocked on her door and called out, but there was no response.
"I hear her," Val said in confusion, pressing his head against the door, wondering why she was staying quiet.
I frowned, knocking again. "Pansy, if you're sick, I brought you a Pepperup Potion."
Then I heard a dull thump—like something had slumped against the door.
"She's on the ground. Sitting against the door. Hi Pansy!" Val yelled, slithering under the crack. "Why are you crying?" he asked worriedly, and I knew this was more serious than a common cold.
"Pansy… I have some food for you… You missed breakfast and now lunch. You have to eat something," I said, trying to keep my voice calm, coaxing her to either speak or let me in.
"You're a liar…" she muttered from behind the door.
My brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"
"You're a liar!" she shouted, striking the door.
"You think I'm horrible too!"
I frowned at the door, wondering where this was coming from. "Pansy, I don't think that at all," I said, but as soon as I did, the door slammed open.
Pansy stood before me, disheveled and pale. Her eyes were sunken with dark circles, her hair was almost as unruly as Hermione's, and her robes were in disarray. Val slithered around her, hissing comfort, but she didn't seem to notice as she glared at me, her body trembling.
"You're lying again… I know you are!"
"How—" I began, confused, but she interrupted with a question that froze me in place.
"What do you think about half-bloods and Muggle-borns?"
She stared intently, eyes locked on mine, desperate for truth. I stammered.
"Wha—I—Of course I think pure-bloods are above those of lower genealogies," I said, defaulting to the script we all lived by.
Pansy's lip quivered. She didn't believe me. Silence followed—only Val's hisses echoed, worried and accusatory.
"Why do we need to lie so much? Pansy is our friend, I'm sure she'll understand!" Val said.
I looked between them, guilt tightening my chest.
"Pansy… if… if I did feel that pure-bloods were not above others… would you really think I could say that to anyone who believes otherwise?" My voice trembled.
Her eyes glistened, her stance stiff as if bracing herself on a cliff's edge.
"Am… Am I just 'anyone' to you?" she whispered, her voice breaking.
I quickly shook my head. "Of course not. But could I be honest with someone who blackmailed me into keeping Val a secret?"
"I was never—!" she snapped, reaching down to gently stroke Val's scales, then bit her lip as she met his gaze.
"Can't you just be honest!? You never say what you really feel! You've been lying to me since the day we met!" she shouted, raw emotion overtaking her restraint.
"Really? Have I ever treated you like Draco does? Or said anything cruel to you? Did you ever stop to think I might not hate Muggle-borns? Or did you just assume I should, because we were sorted into the same house? You never saw me, Pansy. Only your version of what you expected me to be!" My voice cracked with rising emotion, too many years of pretending crashing down all at once.
Her face paled. Tears spilled freely as she staggered under the weight of my words.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean that," I added quickly, guilt already eating at me. I reached out to comfort her, but she slapped my hand away.
"You're right…" she muttered, shaking her head. "I can't trust my family, my house… even you. I don't know what to believe anymore!"
She started to hyperventilate.
"I—I can't! I don't—!" she stammered, her hands shaking as they reached up and grabbed my shoulders, nails digging into my skin.
"Please… just be honest… just this once…" she whispered, her face lowered, staring at the floor.
I froze, struggling to speak.
"Did… did you ever like being friends with me?"
Pain shot through my chest. Could she even believe me now?
I took a breath, voice shaking.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry I'm a liar. I always lie. I hide things. You can't trust my words…"
Slowly, I wrapped my arms around her, Val curling between us.
With our heads beside each other, I whispered the words that had lived silently in my heart.
"But please believe me, if only for now. Being at school here… together with you—even through the lies and hidden truths… has been the happiest time of my life."
Pansy gasped, finally releasing the breath she'd held.
"I want to believe you…" she murmured, still trembling, but refusing to let go.
I didn't respond. I only held her tighter. No words could be trusted anymore—only actions remained true.
We stayed like that for a while, embracing in silence, until her stomach growled.
I scoffed softly and glanced at the plate of food I'd brought, which luckily hadn't spilled. "I still have the food."
Pansy didn't say a word, her arms still wrapped tightly around my robes.
Only now, after peeling back the layers of Lucas' lies, did Pansy feel special again. She had spent the whole night wrestling with the truth of blood status—denying, grieving, questioning. But now, there was a new guilt gnawing at her: Hermione and Chiara. Girls she had threatened, ridiculed—because she feared losing Lucas to them.
Now that Lucas was beginning to lay bare the truths he'd long hidden, Pansy could feel him holding her closer. Even in his sleep, his hands had gripped her tighter, unwilling to let her go.
She wanted to believe that she was part of his happiness, like he said.
She remembered the question from their last fight: What do I want?
Her stomach answered for her, growling again, and Lucas laughed.
Pansy tightened her grip.
She still didn't fully understand her feelings toward Lucas, but right now, she didn't care.
All she wanted was to eat her fill—with Lucas by her side.
End of Year 2