A/N: I don't always know the path my brain takes, it's like it has a mind of its own!

I used some quotes from my favorite movies.

Writer's block is an arse.

Written for sweeternity 's Break-up Competition x3

"You are not BEAUTIFUL. You are not UNIQUE." Draco yelled as he tossed all her worldly possessions into the street. It wasn't watching her china collection that'd grown and accumulated over the years smash, or her remembralls crumple to dust on the wet asphalt. Neither of those things brought tears to her eyes. That was all Draco.

"How many times do I have to TELL you!"

Life around this sidewalk stretch of Muggle London moved on. People walked by, not noticing a thing, not stopping to help or calm him down or ANYTHING. It was hard to believe there was a life outside their shared flat at all. It itched at Pansy, bit her watery eyes prevented her thinking.

"Draco PLEASE." She pleaded, as he chucked a handful pf robes and clothes down the stairs. He looked completely outraged, his hair usually tidy but now wind blown by some unseen force. His shirt was lopsided and his tie loosened but otherwise it could've been any other day. His screams echoed in her numbed head. "Please, Draco, what's wrong? We-we can talk about it- I can change!" Her fingers pulled at her own front, her palms sweaty, her hair mussed. She couldn't even remember angering him.

"Just SHUT up Pansy." He barked, a sharp finger pointed at her. She could feel a few tears slip unconsciously and wiped them away. He stormed back inside.

What had left to her hearing all the things which she was not from her boyfriend? Did she know? Did he? But she'd gotten this run before. Draco had started simply by telling her that she was nothing, she was garbage of the past, and so was he. And nothing she did or didn't do could make any difference when he put up a fit. He'd never thrown her stuff out though.

Life had gone on.

In fact, Draco had almost seemed recuperable after the Battle of Hogwarts. At least, he'd seemed normal. No one had walked away without a few scars. And well, who was Pansy to ask questions? She had all she'd ever needed.

Then this had started. The routines of him discovering that he really WAS nothing, and just a shell of the person he'd once been; never seeing the same or doing the same. Things had changed.

And Pansy could pretend she didn't notice all she wanted, but she did- terribly. She did love Draco, truly with all her heart, but... she wasn't right with words coming out the right way when she decided to speak. And he required the specifically right words indeed.

The Slytherin man came bursting back out. "I found these." He said, tossing some simple things like make-up and Muggle cosmetics at her feet. She hadn't moved, just stood there in the cold, teeth chattering in nothing but a slip and all her livelihood spread out around her like she was the main circus act. Papers fluttered down the street away from their owner, but Pansy was waiting for an apology, an epiphany, anything that she knew wouldn't come. She just wanted back in her lovers arms.

"Go." He yelled.

"This is your life too." He looked as sober as a lamb, yet his words twisted as they came out. Pansy heard only the negative connotations like blades, stabbing her where it hurt the most. "And it's ending. One miserable minute at a time."

The lights outside their house- his house?- flickered, silhouetting his profile, sharp venomous features outlined by the black vastness of space. Her life wasn't ending.

"We're clones. We're copies of copies. We're what everyone wants us to be, what we're cut out as. I was this for my Father, I was that for the Order. And I'm something else for you. Why am I something for you?" With each word Pansy felt her heart constrict in its caverns. She didn't want to cause Draco any more pain.

"You don't need to be anything for me Draco. You-you can be yourself! Just be you. I love YOU."

Pansy was grasping at straws which kept slipping through her hands.

"You don't love this." He said.

He went back inside.

The bolts in Pansy's head were churning with ferocity. Once Blaise had told her something that he'd heard from somewhere that was supposed to make somebody feel better.

"Uh... sometimes you're flush and sometimes you're bust," she recited. The words spilled out of her mouth like garbage, but linked together they formed poetry. Pansy felt bad for defiling something else. "And when you're up... it's never as good as it seems." Draco froze on the threshold, glaring her down. "And when you're uh, down, you never think you'll be up again but... life moves on."

Life moved around them.

"You don't know anything." His weak words died on the air between them. His heart wasn't in it. His cheeks were shining.

"Why is this wet?"

Pansy had less answers than questions. She watched him revel at the tears staining his face, tears that hadn't been shed since the Hogwarts. He understood about as much as she did. But she heard him mutter, "I am the human waste of the world." And it was because he didn't believe in himself that he couldn't believe in her either.

He bolted the door behind himself.

Once Draco had said a hymn to her. After the years of the war when everyone was basking in the golden sunshine of freedom, when their life was a cocoon of happiness shielded only by their will to forget.

He'd said, "May the wind always be at your back and the sun upon your face. And may the wings of destiny carry you aloft to dance with the stars."

It was pretty enough for a eulogy. A passing of the old ways. They'd lost so much. Gained so little.

The stars gleamed somewhere in the distance. Their destiny's had been intertwined. Like a light at the end of the tunnel, Pansy needed to follow.

Somehow, somewhere, life moved on.