Author's Note: This is my entry for the five stages of grief challenge. And this is my first real attempt at Pansy's character..It's more than likely going to be a twoshot. The 'other pairing' is only if some of you would rather view this as slash than just a friendship...but I hope you enjoy it either way..
The bold in the story is the beginning of a new stage..
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Deny, Deny, Deny.
Leather. Beige and Black. I have come to loathe these things, I decide. Unbelievable, I never thought I would lower yourself to actually dislike colors(aside from the given Red and Gold). Or upholstery for that matter. Still, I do. Resting on a black leather couch, and staring into the beige walls has been my only occupation of interest for this last hour. I damn my parents, saying that it's all their fault.
I sigh, staring at the same blasted wall with that oh so bland color, awaiting the person I have also come to strongly dislike. Looking at the door on my left, I glare at the lettering in a simple black, Dr. Sunny. Can I damn irony, as well? Or is that too much in such a short time narrarating? Ah well, the irony still exists in my situation. I don't see how my thinking negative about it will make it disappear. Hah! And they say magic can help us with anything.
"Are you going to do your job? Or are you just sitting around doing nothing? Because I won't let my parents continue to pay you such a preposterous rate if all you're going to do is sit on your bum," I spat towards Dr. Sunny. It still feels awkward to say his name.
How did I end up in such a place like this, you're asking? I cannot tell you. That would take far too long. Just plain and simple, blame my parents. And the war. Blame that, too. If the choice were up to me, I would no longer come to this place. Unfortunately, that is not the case. My parents continue to make me come here, thinking I need the 'push' to get back to what they consider 'normal'.
"Miss Parkinson, do you know why you're in here?" Dr. Sunny asks, ignoring my own.
I am sitting in my bedroom, on the small couch to be exact, as I stare outside my window into the gardens. Flowers were always a comfort to me, whether I be upset or merely unnerved at something. Especially our own gardens. They are beautiful things, really.
However, I do not like, when winter comes along. Sadly, I must say that it is currently winter. So, I honestly do not know why I continue to stare out into the gardens, as if I'm waiting for them to magically reappear within a matter of seconds. Yes, I do know why. I am wishing for that to happen.
All it would take is a simple charm, and I could have my garden forever if I wanted. At the mention of magic, I glance at the table where my wand has been sitting for the month. To think, me, Pansy Parkinson, to not have used magic in the last month in the least. I do not want to do magic just yet, I wish to wait until she arrives to do it with me.
This may be considered childish, and I would love to hear that said. If only it were possible, to be a child once more. So carefree, so happy...so oblivious. We could be oblivious together, her and I.
The beauty of the flower fades away, leaving me. I guess you could compare a flower to a human life, but maybe that's just my strange attempt at similes. Then again, they do resemble each other somewhat. Just as a human life fades throughout it's decades, branching off from the past, it is like a flower losing a petal from it's collection. Letting go of what is done with. As I have been told I should do, as well.
I turn my head harshly, no, I can't think about something as harsh as death. Death has taken its toll on all of us lately, more so than any of us had imagined. The flowers, what a beautiful distraction they could be when the time came. I'm guessing you are surprised that I am not fondly describing death, and who I wish to suffer it, I admit I did. The death I used to imagine upon others has been exacted upon them, much to my surprise.
At my hand.
"Pansy?" my mother's voice calls from outside my door.
I look back. "Yes, mother?" I answer monotonously.
The door creaks open and my mother reveals herself, a look on her face that I can't quite describe. It is a mixture of disappointment, disgust, and possibly concern? She looks around my room, how messy it has accumulated. I have not allowed maids in my room, I do not want anything to change. It is the one thing remaining the same before the war. Call me crazy, but I wish to keep it this way.
My mother shrivels her expression into one I know all too well. "Honestly, it's high time you cleaned up this mess. And get out some! You've been cooped up ever since the battle!" My mother criticizes me. "We're attending a ball, and you're coming. It's the Greengrass girl's coming out, I don't want you stumbling around making a fool of yourself."
As she mentions the Greengrass family, I snap my attention to my mother. Eyes brightening, I ask her eagerly. "Will Daphne be there?"
The cold stare that I've grown to know comes across her face, and she sighs. "No, Pansy. Daphne is dead, you know that. And I don't want you saying things like that to upset the family either, the poor people have just started to get over it. I don't want you upsetting Astoria on her night," the words have my thoughts slamming to a halt.
I shake my head in anger, furious my mother would say such a horrendous thing. "No, no she isn't! Mother, you know it! Daphne isn't dead!"
"Yes, she is. You saw so yourself."
"Daphne is not dead!" I roar, tears streaming down my cheeks. My sweet Daphne, she can't be dead. There is no way. My mother must be lying. I refuse to believe her.
"Now you're just being a fool," I begin to argue with an edge to my voice, but she holds up a hand as if to strike me.
"You know better than this, it's been a month now." Slowly, my mother lowers her hand and runs a hand through her hair. Tears prickle my eyes, as I continue to protest to her outrageous claims. "I will not tolerate this foolishness! Do you take me a fool, child?" I cannot just sit here and let her say such things about my friend, I refuse to answer my mother.
"Mother, I wish to see Daphne." I mumble.
She lets out a frustrated noise, I am confused. Why is my mother always acting like this lately, spreading such slander? "Pansy, you haven't seen Daphne for a month now. Because she is dead."
Opening my mouth in horror, she cuts me off. "I'm sending you to counseling, you're obviously not dealing well."
"But Daphne isn't- "
"That is enough! I will not hear your failure to accept the truth any longer! Your father and I have discussed this and you are going. No questions asked." my mother leaves me gaping at her as she slams my bedroom door shut.
I snap my head to the side, as if the memory were a scene on the ceiling, trying to avoid it. "Yes," I grit out. "I remember very vividly. My parents keep trying to tell me that Daphne is dead, that I will never see her again, so on and so forth. You know these things, you read the case file." Ah, the case file. The very thought of that makes me want to throw things and yell obscenities. Which I have done plenty times. But this is in front of another person, so I will restrain myself and hold my composure.
As my parents claim, I am a danger to myself and others, suffering from a 'chronic depression' as they call it. Hmph! I will show them a danger to others. And they know exactly how dangerous I can be, they fought in that war, just as I did. Even though I sound incredibly cruel to say this, I would have preferred they died in the war than her - No. No, that is not true. It can't be true, because she did not die.
"Have you done any magic since then?"
"No," I answer automatically, remembering my wand still sitting on my table.
"How is school?" Dr. Sunny asks me.
"It's school, how do you think?" I rolled my eyes at him.
It was only a week from graduation, anyways. Ever since returning to school, although I am now more isolated than social as I once was, I am still hated. This is not surprising, I know how I act in front of my peers. They view me as a spoiled rotten brat, given her every desire. Albeit, this is true to an extent. They don't know all of me, but that is a part of me. I'm not denying it. They hate me, but that is my own fault. I could have chose to act differently.
I set myself up to be hated, it is no one's fault but my own. But I do not regret it. I own the school with that as my shield, or at least I allow myself to believe so.
"And how often have you seen Daphne during this time?" The question comes, the question I knew would come. Shifting my eyes, I look to the floor. He scribbles something on a clipboard. "I see, and do you know why you have not seen Daphne, Pansy?"
"She's busy," I insist. He pushes no further on the question.
-xXx-
Dr. Sunny sighs, and gives me an encouraging smile. It sickens me. "How about we talk about the night Daphne stopped talking to you?" He refers to the war.
"Y'know, they say everyone has a look-a-like somewhere in the world." I mention, he nods along, pretending he is interested. I know he is truly not, it's his job to do so. "I'm pretty sure that it was her look-a-like that I finally er...met...that night. They sure looked an awfully lot alike. It was a bit sad though, poor thing. I wonder if they had the same personality, or similar one."
Dr. Sunny gives me a look that I cannot describe. He furrows his eyebrow and clasps his hands together. "Pansy, you've been here for two weeks now. And you know what I'm going to say, you've handled what I said well lately. You've become more accustomed to it," I instantly know what he is talking about. "Daphne was the person you saw. I'm sorry someone as young as you had to see that, but you did."
I growl in anger at him. What? It is better than the first time, I threw a lamp at him. I would say that is a big improvement. "Haven't you been listening to anything I've been saying, you twit? Obviously it was someone else!" I claim, throwing my arms into the air in frustration. Why were these people being so cruel? Where was Daphne to prove these are lies?
Dr. Sunny hands me a bottle, and I down it quickly. I know it is Calming Draught.
Almost instantly a feeling of relax seems to come over me. Though the thoughts are still on my mind. I don't see why he does not want to believe me. Isn't that his job, just to listen? No, of course not, I debate with myself. "Miss Parkinson, I want you to listen to me, please. Just allow the calming draught to run it's course, it will help you, but you already know that."
I nod, closing my eyes, enjoying the moments of calm. I feel more at ease than I have in the last month. Unfortunately, Dr. Sunny's blasted voice rings in my ears again. "You've been here for about two hours, your time is almost up for today, but I thought we'd try something different this afternoon to end the session. I no longer believe you to be any more harmful, I think you're ready - "
My calm thoughts stop suddenly, I immediately know what he's talking about. He is referring to the pensieve he kept of mine in the back. The one he made me place my memory of the war in. He felt I was 'blocking the night out mentally', thinking I would forget pieces of that night that I needed to remember at some point in time. Apparently, he thinks that today is that some point in time.
I wish he didn't think that. "I'm not ready!" I cry, my heart suddenly beating faster. It feels as though the Calming Draught has already worn off. Panic rises in me, I do not want to relive through that. I do not ever want to remember. Can't he see that? Who would punish someone to make them relive the horrors of war?
Much to my relief, Dr. Sunny nods. Again, he writes something on that same clipboard. If only I could see what he's writing. With my luck, probably doodles about how I'm crazy and whatnot. "Okay then, we'll do that another time," I let go of a breath I didn't know I was holding. "But why do you not wish to do it?" he asks me.
At first, I think Dr. Sunny has asked a stupid question. A small pause is between us. "Is it because you know you'll see that Daphne is dead?"
But then, my blood runs cold. I send a cold glare towards Dr. Sunny. "Show me the damn scene, I'll do it just to prove you all wrong," I bite out, though I notice that my voice breaks slightly, questioning my courage. Could I go through seeing that again, just to settle that Daphne is alive? Could I do that for her?
Yes, I could.
I have done much selfishness, I could do this one thing for her. To prove all of them wrong, I will do this for her.
He sighs, his clipboard disappearing. I look at him in confusion, wondering why he is not leading me to the Pensieve. "I'm sorry, but we've run out of time. I will see you next week, Miss Parkinson."
-xXx-
Unbelievable
I stroll into Dr. Sunny's office with a smug look on my face. Today is the day that I will show him, show them all. "Good afternoon, Pansy." he greets me, but I keep my smug look on my face. "Are you ready to start?"
Confidently, I nod and follow him to the back store room where I know my penseive is hiding. The very place where my memories are hidden with it. All of the memories I wish to keep that way. All those that I had blocked away from me were suddenly resurfacing themselves, and I hadn't even reached the pensieve yet. Maybe it was just the fact that I was surrounded by them, it triggered the memories.
Either way I will relive them any moment now.
I brace myself, hoping that I will not cower away. Please, for just this one moment, allow me courage.
Approaching the object, I tremble. It's as if I am reliving the moments already. Could I go through with it? I desperately hoped so. At the beginning of our sessions a few weeks ago, Dr. Sunny had told me that I would need to relive these memories in order to be my old self again. We both knew the truth - I would never be my old self again.
If I laughed again, it would never contain the same care free attitude that it once had. Whenever I felt the need to smile, it wouldn't be as it used to. Rather than see the life in my eyes, they would see a broken girl. A broken girl that has witnessed the horrors of mankind.
A broken girl that realized the horrors of her own accord. Realizing all the killing she did during that night, she was doing just as much damage as any other person on the other side - only taking her friends instead of theirs.
"I won't make you see everything, yet." Dr. Sunny told me. "I will only show you a portion at the moment. But you do realize that you will have to watch the entire thing in the future, correct?" He awaits for my confirmation, which I give him.
Suddenly, I am am falling. It feels strange, yet terrifying at the same time. I never did really like heights. It was always the falling that scared me. Although knowing it will not help me, I continue to flail until I am no longer falling.
Standing up, my steady ness is a tad off. Regaining my composure, my blood runs cold.
It's dark outside, the clouds ominous. Right outside the grounds of Hogwarts, I see so many people. So many jets of light streaming out of the tips of wands, curses and jinxes being yelled. So many bodies falling to the ground...
Walking along the grounds, I look into the faces of my former classmates..The faces of many adults that I grew up around. Bellatrix Lestrange, a grimace frozen in place. Parvati Patil, the shock still on her face from the killing curse being shot her way. Upon seeing Parvati, my body trembles again. Just looking to the left, I already know what I will see.
Twirling their wand between their slender fingers and smirking at the newly dead form of Parvati, is myself. Back at that night, I do not believe I felt any remorse. I continue to walk as my other self runs off, looking for another target - I remember that I was hoping to run into the Weasley girl at that moment. Granger would have sufficed, even. I had just wanted to get my hands on at least one of them.
Half of my time at the battle was sent killing, the other half - searching. I was searching constantly for Daphne, both my former and current self. Both set out to prove that she was alive and well.
An hour after the battle has started, my other self ran into Daphne. Her broken body laying on the ground at odd angles.
A sob escapes me, but I do not know which me it came from.
Gasping, I am pulled from the horrid scene. Thanking Merlin to be away from that, I regain my composure once more. Physically, at least. "No - " I whisper to myself, shaking my head. "She can't be - "
"Dead?" Dr. Sunny supplies for me.
My world is shattered.
I bolt out of the room.