Pansy stared at herself in the mirror after applying pink lipstick to her lips. Her hand subconsciously trailed down her cheek as her eyes followed its path.

She looked at the mark on the curve of the jaw that didn't want to be covered by her makeup. It served as a reminder of the woman she once was, and how that woman was gone.

It had been a year since her divorce, one that was forced upon her because of his incarceration. It was something everyone told her that he deserved, but Pansy was held by the metaphorical grip her ex husband had on her.

She couldn't accept the fact that she could or would ever love again because of him, yet here she was preparing for a meeting with another man.

Harry was kind enough, wanting to get together to check on her. He was one of the officers to arrest her ex, so it was proven he'd keep her safe during their encounter.

But who would keep her safe from herself? She had to be cautious, keeping herself composed. It would be no other way should she want to keep physical interaction to a minimum. The thought alone caused Pansy to break into a sweat.

She took a breath; she could do this. Pansy would do this. It took her months before she even left her home.

Daphne followed after Pansy down the hallway as the she tried to move away from her friend. "You can't hide forever, Pansy," she pressed, "and this isn't healthy! You have to move on!"

"You want me to move on?!" Pansy scowled, grabbing the nearest object–which happened to be a perfume bottle–and throwing it at the wall. It was all the strength that she had, and Pansy collapsed on the floor, a strangled sob escaping her.

Daphne's arms circled around the woman, and Pansy fell into the embrace. "I can't do it, Daph," she said, "I just...can't…"

Thanks to the persistence from her dear friend, Daphne, Pansy reluctantly agreed to meet with Mr. Potter. If she didn't do it for herself, she'd do it for the image she wanted to rebuild.


"I'm happy that you came," Harry told Pansy as she sat down across from him at the cafe table.

She crossed her left leg over her right and placed her hands in her lap. Flipping her curls over her shoulder, Pansy brought the facade she had been practicing from the time she left her home to the time she set foot inside the cafe door.

"Believe me, Potter, it took a lot of persuasion," she said, giving a small, tight smile.

Harry adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat.

"Right," he said, "I figured as much, but I'm still happy." Harry met her eyes. "How are you?"

The minute their eyes connected, Pansy felt unease and casted her eyes down; she focused on the single pink flower poised in the glass vase instead.

"I'm fine," she replied.

"You don't look fine, Pans," Harry retorted.

"I have the reputation of deceiving others with my looks."

"That's terrible."

"Yes, my reputation is terrible," Pansy drawled as she switched her leg over the other, "which comforts me a lot."

"Defiant," Harry mused, "just like you were in school."

Pansy places her hands on the table and looked out the window after he made his comment. It felt like forever since she had been around her classmates, and over that time things had changed so much for her. She'd give her last designer purse to go back in time.

Well, maybe not her last purse, but at least some of them; the materials she possessed were the last of her identity.

She heard Harry talking to her and trying to get her attention, but she remained distant and stuck in her mind. That didn't change until it was too late.

As soon as Harry's hand caressed hers so softly, Pansy felt her heart thumping against her chest sporadically. Her breath hitched as the thought of his hand being someone else's crept into her mind. After all the pain she suffered with her ex, Pansy could not go through that again.

'I love you, Pansy," he said as he held her hand, "never forget that, yea?"

Pansy smiled adoringly at the man next her. She ran her fingers through the dark, tousled hair he sported and grinned. "Your love is unforgettable."

Harry looked at Pansy with concern. "Pansy?"

She shook her head lightly in response, though it wasn't actually for him; it was for herself. "This is a mistake."

"Pansy…" Harry reached for her with his other hand, but Pansy scrambled to her feet, knocking her chair down in the process.

"Why can't I learn?" Pansy whispered to herself.

She had to get out of there before her head spun even more. It didn't matter how her departure looked, or if Harry had followed, as she rushed out the cafe. As long as she was out of there, everything would be alright.

In others' eyes, they'd think Pansy was being irrational in her actions; but they didn't understand. No one could understand that she could take no chance in allowing another man in her life.

Her chest rose swiftly, and she placed a hand over it. Her heart was still beating rapidly, so Pansy closed her eyes and leaned against the building.

All that preparation was for nothing. She couldn't bear to be touched by another man so fondly; it was too difficult not to think of her past.

"How dare you!" Pansy demanded, stomping after her husband, "How dare you bring that...that tart into our home! Our bed!"

"It meant nothing, Pans," he reasoned with her.

"It never means anything to you, Charles," Pansy snarled, "not the first time, the second, or even the bloody tenth! I am done!"

She had pushed past him, but his hands caught her wrists and pushed her against the wall.

"You're done when I say you're done," he said into her ear, "for my love is unforgettable. Remember that, Pans?"

Pansy looked into the stern, brown eyes belonging to him and nodded. "I remember."

He removed one of his hands from her wrist, and Pansy knew he was arrogant to believe that she wouldn't strike him. It was in her best interest not to do anything with him being so close; she wouldn't get away from him quick enough.

His hand ran along her cheek before he gripped her chin tightly. "Good."

Pansy couldn't even fathom the thought of another love. The once brave, wild facade she proudly presented the others she went to school with had quickly faded over the years; it was far too scary.

So wrapped up into her anxiety, Pansy didn't see the raven haired man she was supposed to be spending the evening with was watching her. It was a shame, really, because she would have been better off with his arms around her if it didn't terrify her so much.


A/N: Written for HSWW (Challenges and Assignments) and The Houses Competition

(THC) House: Hufflepuff; Year: HoH; Category: Short; Prompt(s): [Word] Brave

(HSWW) Assignment #2 Transfiguration; Task: write about an incident which leads your chosen character developing a phobia (philophobia)

Book of the Month: Dayna Jurgens: (action) flirting, (object) glass, (word) defiance

Pink Day: Write about someone who likes the color pink

Count Your Buttons: (object) perfume, (dialogue) "You can't hide forever"

Lyric Alley: "I'm a little bit scared"

Year in Entertainment: (color) pink

Jovial Quotations: "My reputation is terrible, which comforts me a lot." - Noel Coward

Serpent Day: Boomslang - (word) wild

Insane House Challenge - Emotion - Scared

365 Prompts Challenge - 315. Title - In My Mind

Word Count: 1,171

Other Notes: This is a Modern!AU! Also warnings for mild mentions of abuse