Disclaimer: I don't own HP, but I sure would be happy to.

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Pansy's POV

AG,

Abort mission for now. Meet me at our usual place, 2AM tomorrow. We need to talk.

PP

I sighed, rereading the note before sending it off with my owl.

I needed to reconsider what I was doing, or at least do it more carefully. Blaise knew now who I was, and he was suspicious. I wouldn't put it past him to investigate at St. Mungos, and that wouldn't do at all.

I should have known better than to kidnap him, really. But he had been useful in our Hogwarts days, and I had hoped that he would make himself useful again. I hadn't wanted to appeal to him as Pansy directly, however, because he wasn't to know the whole plan. The guy was surprisingly loyal to Draco when it came down to a choice between me and him. He would ask too many questions, cause too many problems.

He said I was cruel. I only did what I had to. He picked Draco over me. And I knew back then that he would always pick Draco over me. I heard them talking that night in the Slytherin common room, when they thought I had gone to bed.

"You don't really like her, do you? You guys are just pretending, right?" Draco had asked carelessly.

"Yeah, man." Blaise had chuckled. "I mean, she basically begged me to be her pretend boyfriend."

"How desperate can she get?" Draco sniggered. "No wonder no one likes her."

"Right?" Blaise had said, sneering. "And to think she wanted to make you jealous. With me."

The two boys had laughed loudly. The sound scraped at my ears until they were beet red and stinging.

"Not a chance." Draco said, tears of laughter trailing their way down his angelic, yet loathsome face.

I had never hated both boys more than I had then, standing behind the serpent columns that led to the girls' dormitory, tears of shame and rage running down my face, desperately trying not to make a sound.

I don't think I slept a wink that night.

I told Blaise I'd found a new boyfriend the next morning. "A real one this time." I'd said, sneering to cover up my rising hysterics. "So I don't need you anymore."

He'd had the audacity to fake hurt. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't need to use you anymore, so you can fuck off now!" I'd snapped, my nerves frayed to the point of belligerence.

And why shouldn't I be angry? I had every right to be.

He, however, had no right to widen his eyes in a comical, watered-down mimicking of an empty devastation.

He had no fucking right.

He'd turned around and sauntered off after that, casual as he pleased.

I'd turned around too, and promptly got myself a Ravenclaw guy I didn't even like. I don't think he liked me a lot either. But we sucked face quite a bit.

The next month I had another boyfriend.

And another one after that.

I never spoke to either Draco or Blaise again for the rest of my Sixth year unless I absolutely had to. The gits were never even slightly concerned. I ignored them, and for them, I had simply never existed.

The war had smoothed things out a little between us, though. We Slytherins had had to stick together to survive under the Dark Lord's rule. We formed a grudging alliance then.

Until Draco betrayed me. Again. And Blaise had, of course, chosen him. Again.

I should have known, really.

And to think I had never particularly liked Draco very much, even when he had been my boyfriend. My father had said to try to get close to him for his family connections. I had, and he had been too haughty and arrogant for my liking. We were both prideful people, and we did not mix well.

Still, I had thought our relationship meant something to him. 

He moved on to the next girl faster than I could say "Snitch".

I didn't particularly want him back. I just wanted to make him jealous because I was angry. It didn't work, of course. He cared as little for me as I did for him.

But I had actually liked Blaise. And it hurt, just a little, that he held nothing but spite for me.

I had hoped that as 'Lilia', I could have coerced him into helping me without bringing up old grievances. He knew me too well, though.

And now I had to hide the plan from him.

He said I was cruel? No, they were cruel. Draco was cruel. And the epitome of cruel was the Dark Lord himself.

I had failed my first task as a Death Eater--to kill a family of Muggles. They had been eating dinner and laughing. I couldn't remember the last time I had laughed with, or even talked to my parents. And just like that I couldn't bring myself to kill them. They deserved to live. They had things to live for. They were happy like I had never been.

In a moment of weakness, I told them they were being hunted. I hid them in my bedroom at home, promising that I would help them leave the country as soon as possible.

I had confessed to Draco and Blaise, terrified of the Dark Lord's wrath if he discovered my betrayal. They promised not to tell.

(Warning: Graphic violence)

That very same night the Dark Lord made me watch as he glided into our family estate, blew out our walls, and tortured the Muggles to death. And then he turned on my parents. He was even more creative with them than he had been with the Muggles. 

He made tiny, minuscule cuts at first, deep enough to sting badly but not to kill. He made me watch, had me listen as they screamed and writhed on the ground before me. Made them beg as I sat by, helpless and weaponless. He got bored with this very quickly, and moved on to cut off their fingers and toes, one by one, before using a dark spell that turned their bodies inside out. My ears rung so badly by this point I was convinced I was deaf. He smashed their brains, punctured their lungs, crushed their hearts and vessels.

I watched with morbid fixation as the Dark Lord annihilated my parents systematically, skillfully, methodically. I watched even as I could no longer bear to watch, as the pale, cold fingers of Draco Malfoy gripped my jaw so hard it hurt, forcing my head up and my knees on the ground. My wand was in his pocket.

The Dark Lord made me stay in the house for an entire week, alone, a prisoner, with no wand and no food, my parents' unrecognizable bodies and scattered organ mush on the floor and walls. Everywhere I looked there were rivulets of blood. It was on the carpets, the wallpaper, the curtains, the remnants of mother's favourite antique vase, on me and in me. That week I lived and breathed blood, only diluting it with tap water when I was thirsty.

I don't think I was human when I came back out.

I never had any problems killing after that.

But it was that week when I studied the blood of both my parents and the Muggles, and found them both red. I bit my bottom lip hard enough to split the skin there, and when I checked in the mirror, it was as crimson as everything else in the estate was.

(End of graphic violence)  

It was that week when I realized I wanted the Dark Lord dead more than I wanted anything else in the world.

And a close second? I wanted Draco Malfoy to suffer.

Blaise always chose Draco over me, however much the bloody bastard didn't deserve it. That was why he couldn't know.

Draco Malfoy was going to pay.

Sure, impersonating medical personnel at St. Mungos meant Azkaban for me, but it would be worth it.

I needed revenge.

And a healthy dose of Dreamless Sleep, even though I've used it so much it barely helps any more.

My hand shakes slightly and I reach desperately for a large vial of the Potion. 

Bottoms up.

A/N: Pansy is making some very bad decisions here... She has had a very hard life, however, so I cannot resent her too much for it.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed Pansy's POV! Thanks for reading, and I'll be back soon with another chapter.

Ughh...it's so late right now, and I have school tomorrow. See how much I prioritize you guys? <3 ;)