Chapter 163
"My head hurts…"
Pansy woke with a soft groan. She found herself lying on a soft leather sofa, covered with a pink flannel blanket. Sitting up quickly, she looked around.
The golden afterglow of sunset streamed through the window, spilling across the dark green floor.
"Draco!" she called anxiously, afraid he had left her behind.
"You're awake?"
Draco stood on tiptoe beside a tall bookcase, repairing the cracked glass with magic. Seeing her up, he stopped.
"I was careless. The music box was enchanted. Fortunately, it only causes mild hypnosis." He took the box from his pocket and handed it to her. "I fell for it too."
Then he added calmly,
"You're lucky. The sofa was right behind you."
After a pause, he continued casually,
"Though I woke earlier. When I saw you drooling in your sleep, I didn't have the heart to wake you."
"What?!"
Pansy immediately wiped her mouth with her sleeve—then froze.
"You lied to me!"
---
"As compensation," Draco said, glancing at the darkening sky, "I'll bribe you with dinner. You slept through lunch."
At that moment, a loud gurgle echoed in the room.
Silence.
"…Let's go," Draco said. "If a certain little glutton starves, her father might accuse me of mistreatment."
"How dare you call my father a cat!"
"Then give me a chance to make peace. What do you want to eat?"
Pansy immediately lowered her head to think seriously.
Food first. Revenge later.
---
"Whatever Miss Parkinson wishes, Kreacher can prepare!"
The house-elf appeared proudly at Draco's feet.
Pansy froze.
"M-Miss…?"
"You may call her Miss Parkinson," Draco said calmly.
"Yes, Master."
Pansy's brief dream of being addressed differently vanished instantly.
But her attention quickly shifted when Kreacher announced confidently:
"Kreacher is excellent at cooking. Steak and kidney pie is my specialty!"
---
Skeptical, Pansy went downstairs to inspect the kitchen.
Then she stopped in shock.
The mold was gone.
The walls were freshly cleaned.
Pots shone brightly.
A fire burned warmly in the hearth.
Copper plates reflected the flames.
For a moment, she wondered if Draco had altered her memory.
---
Soon the kitchen filled with rich aromas.
French onion soup.
Stew.
Meat pies.
Custard desserts.
The knives chopped by themselves. Pots simmered. Plates appeared one after another.
"I've never seen such a feast at your house," Pansy muttered.
"Every house-elf has their specialty," Draco replied. "Dobby handles cleaning. Kreacher handles cooking."
"Kreacher, come work for my family. I'll pay double," Pansy said defiantly.
Kreacher turned, offended.
"Please do not insult the loyalty of a house-elf, Miss Parkinson."
Then he ignored her completely.
---
Soon the table was cleared at impressive speed.
After eating, Pansy yawned sleepily.
"Have you chosen a room?" Draco asked. "Dobby has cleaned upstairs."
They went up.
Two doors stood at the end of the corridor.
One read: Sirius.
Draco pushed it open.
The room was large and clean. A carved bed stood by tall velvet curtains. On the wall hung a faded red-and-gold banner embroidered:
Gryffindor
"If I hung that in my room, my father would kill me," Pansy muttered.
Then she noticed the other wall.
Her face instantly flushed.
Motorcycle posters.
And several posters of Muggle girls in bikinis.
"That Sirius Black really deserved to be disowned!"
She tried to tear them down—without success.
"Permanent sticking charm," Draco said. "If you don't like it, we'll use another room."
"I'll stay here!" she said quickly. "And don't look!"
"I'm not that easily shocked."
---
"If you need anything, call Dobby or Kreacher," Draco said at the door.
"There's also a ghoul in one of the bathrooms. I'm going to deal with it."
"You should go quickly," Pansy replied at once.
When he left, she collapsed onto the bed and finally relaxed.
Then she carefully took out a small glass vial from inside her clothes.
Inside was a pearly, shimmering liquid.
She held it up to the light, staring at it.
A foolish, hopeful smile slowly appeared on her face.
She had already made her plan.