She sipped her wine and looked around at the other diners, scanning the entrance for Dean. His owl had been a complete surprise, and it worked out perfectly, as Cormac had said that he was working late. Cormac had also mentioned that he had something he'd bought for her, which did bring a small smile to her lips, but at present what she'd have really preferred was his company. So it was a happy coincidence that Dean had asked her to dinner. Dean never failed to improve her mood; he was sweet and easy to converse with, and didn't seem to mind her just being her, moods and all.



As Dean walked out onto the patio, he tried to erase all traces of the scowl he'd been wearing for most of the day. He'd had a miserable day thus far, and he was grateful for the chance of some welcome company for a change. He caught sight of Pansy, smiling as he made a beeline for the table.

Pansy leaned her hand in her chin and smiled at Dean. She watched him come in and had seen all of the emotions that had played across his face before he'd seen her and walked over. "Hello, darling. And how does this evening find you?"

Catching her teasing tone, Dean smiled ruefully. "Noticed that, did you?" He sighed as he sat down. "Honestly? Alternating between frustrated and angry, with the occasional foray into nervousness." Grinning, he added, "Though that was somewhat offset by making the better part of a thousand Galleons this morning, and beating someone senseless in the afternoon."

Leaning over quickly to kiss her cheek, Dean asked jokingly, "And how was your day?"



"Well, I went to see one of your mates, actually, but Mr. 'I'm head of the Magical Law Enforcement' Potter is dreadfully hard to get in to see." She sighed and smirked. "Must be terribly busy, not catching werewovles and the like," she said under her breath. "But a thousand galleons? And a thrashing? That sounds like an excellent day in my book."

"I'll admit that they do Have their appeal," he replied. "And I know that you don't want to hear this, but I feel a bit sorry for Harry right now." Wincing at Pansy's annoyed glare, he hurriedly continued. "Seriously! He's been dumped into a job he hates and doesn't know how to do, and kept from doing the things he does know." Dean smiled slightly. "Like tracking down stupid-but-surprisingly-elusive werewolves." He paused for a moment. "And now that I think about it... why were you looking for Harry to begin with?"


"Oh." She shrugged and looked a bit apologetic. "He actually sent a very kind reply owl a few days ago, in which he said he'd like to come and interview me about-" she waved her hand airily. "I, however, have absolutely no patience, which I'm sure you'd never guess," she said, giving him a saucy look, "and tried to see him, instead. Got thwarted by his little minions. Ticked me right off. So I popped in on Cormac, instead. And then I got verbally accosted by that little trollop Rom-something Vane. Do you know her?" she asked him with a raised eyebrow. "I suppose so, same House and all."

Dean groaned. "Romilda. Romilda Vane, and ironically enough she's a source of stress for me as well. She's scheduled a sitting tomorrow for what I'm guessing will be a fairly racy portrait." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Nat is going to yell at me for doing it, I'm sure - they absolutely loathe each other, you see." Dean frowned slightly. "Why on earth would she want to 'accost' you, though?"



"Cormac," Pansy replied. "I'm fairly certain, having not actually taked to him about it yet, they they were an item, or dated, or at least shagged or something," she said, rolling her eyes, "because the little tramp actually gave me a veiled threat through all that Gryffindor goody-goody nonesense. No offense, darling."



"None taken... I think."



"Something to the effect that if I didn't keep Cormac happy, that she would." Pansy picked an invisible piece of lint off her sweater and gazed at Dean. "As if."


Dean snorted. "Now that was incredibly stupid of her. I suppose some people just like to live life dangerously," he said with a shrug. If Vane tries to take Pansy on, I think I might just pity her. He took a moment to pour himself a glass of wine. Taking a sip, he asked, "Anything else of interest going on?"



Pansy sighed. "Yes."



She closed her eyes briefly, and opened them again, trying to gain control over her wretched emotions. "One of my friends died. You may have read about it last week in the Prophet, Gregory Goyle? He and Tracey Davis were in America and he was murdered by a-" She looked at Dean, unable to mask the hurt in her eyes. "By a Muggle."


"Oh, Pansy," he sighed. Seeing the naked pain in her eyes, Dean felt wretched. He'd read about Goyle in the prophet, but he hadn't thought about how it would affect his friends. Taking her hand, he whispered, "I'm so sorry."

Pansy nodded. She didn't understand why people apologized for something that was clearly not their fault. She took in a deep breath and realeased it slowly, then took a drink of wine. "And to make matters worse, the two of them actually got married before it happened, which I find absolutely ridiculous. And Trace cursed a streetful of people, and neither one of them can come home," she said in a rush. "I might be the tiniest bit upset about it all," she whispered, chuckling without a hint of mirth.

Pansy's brittle laughter shocked him. He looked onto her eyes, and the sheer desolation he saw there was almost tangible. He glanced longingly at the kitchen for a moment before coming to a decision. Oh, well, I'm sure Nev has some leftovers in the icebox, he thought as he quickly drTrueained his glass. Dropping what was likely far too many galleons on the table, he turned back to Pansy. "Let's get out of here, love." He smiled slightly at her puzzled look. "You're in desperate need of a good cuddle, or at least a hug or ten, and for some reason I doubt you'll be wanting to do that in public."



She looked up at Dean, and his outstretched hand. What she actually wanted was for Gregory not to be dead so that she could kick his arse for getting married, or so that he could hold her and tell her everything would be fine. I miss him, she thought sadly, taking Dean's hand, allowing him to lead her out of the restaurant. And I'm sure Gregory would fing it terribly ironic that I'm allowing myself to be comforted by anyone but him.

As soon as they were clear of the cafe's wards, Dean wrapped Pansy in his arms. He kissed her forehead and leaning down, whispered, "It's okay to break a little, sometimes. That's why we have friends... to help us put ourselves back together."



"I'm not used to it, you know," she said softly. "This having a heart business. It's rather harder than one might expect."

Chuckling softly, Dean gave her another squeeze, then apparated them away with a soft crack.



{Summary: Dean meets Pansy for dinner, they tell each other about their wretched days, and Dean comforts Pansy a little.}