-AN All rights reserved to JK Rowling.

House: Gryffindor

Theme: Golden Era Post Hogwarts

Prompt 1: Physically, she was fine. Emotionally, she was scarred.

Prompt 2: She could bear to hold on no longer.

Word Count: 1468

For her first seventeen years, Pansy lived her life without regrets. She was born into a powerful, pureblood family. The Parkinsons had wealth to spare and she wanted for nothing. Some might call her spoiled, but she felt she was entitled to everything she had. She loved being a witch and could not imagine a life without magic.

Upon entering Hogwarts, Pansy had immediately claimed her spot as queen bee of Slytherin house. In fifth year she had been made prefect and she earned high OWL marks in each of her subjects. She had a sweet, school-time romance with Draco Malfoy which should have led to a betrothal. Her life was perfect.

And then everything went to shit.

Draco was marked as a Death Eater and withdrew from her. The war broke out in earnest and her family's vaults were drained to fund the Dark Lord's activities. Pansy went from being envied and revered to no more than an average student just hoping to survive.

It was this desire to survive that led Pansy to make her most regretted decision. She wanted to offer Harry Potter up to the Dark Lord. She thought that if this boy, the so-called chosen one, could just go away then it would all be over. It needed to be over.

After she and her housemates escaped from the dungeons during the finals battle, Pansy fled. She did not want to fight in a war that should never have been hers to begin with. Her life was so perfect before. Why did it have to change?

After the dust settled, Pansy tried to make sense of what happened. Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters were rounded up and carted off to Azkaban. Her family remained free since no one had actually become a Death Eater, but all the money they had spent was gone forever. The Parkinsons went from being one of the wealthiest wizarding families to one of the poorest. They were even poorer than the Weasleys given their reward money for acts during the war. It was humiliating.

Pansy hoped to reunite with Draco once his trial was over and he was spared Azkaban, but he turned her away. He claimed that he needed to rebuild the Malfoy name and could no longer associate with the witch who publically ordered that someone grab the savior of the wizarding world and hand him over to certain death. Once Draco disavowed her, the rest of their remaining friends followed suit.

At age 19, Pansy found herself a social pariah. She could not walk about in Wizarding London without enduring sneers, jeers, or distain. She was unable to get a job to support herself after her parents threw her out for being a burden. Pansy spent her days begging for knuts and her nights in a makeshift shelter with jarred bluebell flames for warmth down Knockturn Alley.

One morning, the surviving Weasley twin (she couldn't remember his name) approached her with a paper cup of tea, a sandwich, and an offer of an apprenticeship in his jokeshop. Pansy shot down his offer with a snarl and a rude gesture. When he left she cried because what little pride she had remaining forced her to cast aside his generosity.

What had her life become? She hadn't fought in the war. Physically she was fine, but mentally, she was scarred. An emotional mess of pride and desperation still clinging to the life she might have had.

As her sobs softened to whimpers and hiccups, she looked up. Adults glared at her pathetic form while young children stared at her questioningly. She could handle those looks. What she could no longer tolerate was the look of pity that the Weasley twin was sending her way. So she ran.

Pansy ran as fast as her weakened legs would carry her. She dodged around people shopping in Diagon Alley and ignored their annoyed screams as she brushed against them and their precious purchases. She jammed her wand inside her coat pocket and slammed through the Leaky Cauldron until she stumbled out into the damp streets of muggle London.

For a moment she paused, tempted to turn around and return to her perch beginning for spare coins. But what was left for her back there? Anger for a stupid statement she had made as a scared child just hoping to survive? Being ignored by those she had once considered friends? Pity and charity for those who the world viewed as so morally superior to her now?

No, she decided she couldn't return to Diagon Alley today. She slowly started to walk up the street of London, experiencing for the first time a world she had never seen.

A few hours into her exploration, she spotted a small café with a HELP WANTED sign posted on the window. On a lark, Pansy entered the shop to inquire about a job. They didn't know who she was or what she had done here. Maybe, just maybe, she could get her life back.


Two years later, Pansy was flinging out coffees as fast as they were ordered during the peak of the morning commute. Despite having no experience and no educational experience which could be reported on a muggle job form, the café owner had taken a chance on Pansy and hired her on a trial basis. Pansy's sharp tongue and quick wit made her a popular barista among the shop's clientele. Her trial basis quickly turned into full time employment and eventually led to a pay raise as assistant manager of the café.

Pansy lived in a small flat above the shop. She had a small group of friends that she had met through work that valued who she was. They didn't know or care that her family used to be wealthy but had fallen from grace. They would never know that Pansy had once blindly hated them for not having magic coursing through their veins. Pansy was quite proud of the life she had rebuilt for herself.

As the morning rush waned, Pansy busied herself cleaning the espresso grinder. Her concentration was broken when a familiar voice from behind her asked, "What have you got for tea?"

Pansy turned around knowing what she would find. There, in her café, was the Weasley twin who had offered her a chance years before.

"Oh, hi.." she trailed off.

"George," he replied with a good natured smile. "How've you been, Pansy?"

She smiled, "Really good actually." She pulled out the list of teas for him to select from and continued, "Look, I'm sorry for the way I acted that day in the alley. And the way I acted… well that other day".

George grinned at her, "No apology necessary. You were just a kid. We all were. It was a lot to bear." He shrugged, "You know what? I'll take a coffee instead. Black with ten sugars."

Pansy laughed at the odd order of the ginger wizard and prepped his drink. "Here you go," she said as she passed him the steaming paper cup.

He paid and said, "When you come back, swing by the store."

She smiled and replied, "Thanks George, but my life is here now. And it's kind of perfect."

The tall red head nodded his head in recognition, "I'm glad you've let go of everything that was holding you down. We all deserve a little bit of perfect after everything." With that he left and Pansy was left with her thoughts.


After her shift ended, Pansy took a walk through London. She found herself wandering down Charring Cross Road and paused by the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. Over the years, she had walked by the pub many times and been so tempted to enter. But for the first time, she was content to just walk away.

She didn't need that part of her life anymore. In the muggle world, she wasn't a pariah. She had true friends, a job, and a place to live.

Pansy walked for hours until the sun fell below the horizon. Eventually, she found herself alone on Tower Bridge. She grasped the edge of the bridge and looked down into the murky Thames below.

With a sigh, she withdrew her wand from her coat pocket. She had carried the wand for two years but had not used it once. She hadn't needed to and realized that she never would again.

She reached her arm over the side of the bridge and held her wand in her hand once more. She could bear to hold on no longer. In an act of finality, Pansy released her grasp and watched her wand plunge into the depths of the river below. Pansy breathed. She didn't need magic to make her life perfect anymore.