Pansy Parkinson was used to success, and starting this year, she was on her path to achieve it.
"Pansy Parkinson, age eleven, becomes the first witch ever to win a thousand house points for Slytherin!" Pansy narrated to herself while she got dressed in the sharp voice she knew Rita Skeeter, only the best journalist for the Daily Prophet, spoke in. She had met Ms. Skeeter once at a photo-shoot for the magazine where Pansy's mother, Regina Parkinson, was the editor. And not just any editor, editor of "Witch Weekly," the best-selling wizarding magazine marketed at witches ages 18 through 25.
Pansy had learned from a very young age that being successful was the only way to get what is truly important in life – luxury, status, and a pure-blood husband.
"Pansy, do you like your life right now?" her mother had asked her one morning while they were served breakfast in their grand dining hall. Her bony fingers skimmed through the pages of the Daily Prophet, her lofty eyes looming over the brim of the paper.
"Yes, Mummy," Pansy answered respectfully from the other end of the long oak table.
"Do you want your life to stay like this after you grow up?" Mrs. Parkinson asked again, this time folding the paper and setting it aside.
"Yes, Mummy."
"Then you should do as I tell you."
"Do what, Mummy?"
"You should get good grades," Mrs. Parkinson started, "earn a respectable reputation. I want you to make some friends – the right kind of friends, friends that will go places, like you. And finally –"
"Yes, Mummy?"
"Don't interrupt me," Mrs. Parkinson snapped. "It's rude. And finally, I want you, after you graduate, to marry a pureblood wizard."
"Yes, Mummy."
"If you marry anything less, you won't be able to live like you're living now. And you certainly won't be able to call me your mother."
"Yes, Mummy."
Those words have stuck in Pansy's mind ever since.
"I'm going to make you proud, Mummy," she stated proudly to her reflection as she powdered her snub nose. "I'm going to be the best Pansy there is." She twirled around her room with glee, watching the tulle and ruffles of her robes spin around her. It was a deep aubergine dress with a muted emerald ruffled collar and trim. Her tights were the same muted green and aubergine stripes and black lace-up ankle boots. All of these clothes came from only the highest quality robe shops and it was Pansy's favorite outfit. She loved seeing the look on the other girls' faces when she walked down Diagon Alley wearing them, and she couldn't wait to impress at Hogwarts.
Pansy descended down the grand spiral staircase of the luxury townhouse and her nanny, Willa, pulled her trunks out behind her. They were all filled will Pansy's essential – and not so essential – items for the upcoming school year.
"There's my girl," Mrs. Parkinson said proudly once Pansy had reached the base of the stairs. She patted down Pansy's short dark hair and they headed into the parlor, where a large marble fireplace was the centerpiece of the room.
Pansy reached onto the mantle, which was decorated ornately with moving, smiling photographs of Pansy and her mother, taken by a professional wizard photographer. "Only the best for the Parkinsons," Pansy's mother would say loftily. Pansy pulled down a crystal bowl with green-tinged powder inside from the mantle and handed it to her mother.
"Oh no, dear, didn't I tell you? I have a meeting this morning, can't go to King's Cross to see you off. Willa will be taking you. Write me a letter as soon as you arrive," Ms. Parkinson said in a falsely glum voice, pinching her daughter's round cheeks.
"Oh," Pansy said, trying not to look disappointed. "Alright mother, I will,"
"There's my girl. Now go on then, wouldn't want to be late," Ms. Parkinson urged, turning her daughter around and urging her forward. "Oh, and Willa, make sure that fire goes out properly, wouldn't want any Ashwinders infesting the place."
"Yes, Ms. Parkinson," Willa said softly as Pansy stepped forward into the fireplace, holding her owl cage in one small hand and a fistful of Floo Powder in the other.
"King's Cross Station!" Pansy said strongly, stealing one last look at her mother before being consumed by green flames.
Aphrodite, Pansy's owl, fluttered and tweeted in her cage as they were pulled through the chimney and somehow, in a process beyond Pansy's knowledge, stumbled into the office of a manager. The office was fortunately empty, as all hands were on deck on this busy Monday morning.
Shortly after Pansy stepped out, Willa, dragging along Pansy's two large, pink trunks, staggered out of the fireplace. "Whew! Thought I'd get stuck up there, with these things clogging up the system," Willa sighed, exasperated.
"Willa, how does the Floo System work?" Pansy asked curiously as they made their way to the brick wall between Platforms 9 and 10.
"Dunno, sweetheart," Willa said quickly as they walked briskly to the Platform. "Hurry up now, don't want to miss the Hogwarts Express -"
"But you went to Hogwarts, didn't you? Didn't you learn there?" Pansy asked, pushing past Muggles in suits looking very busy.
"No, no, I didn't graduate," Willa said, cheeks flushing. "Is that it there? Tell me what that says, dear, my poor eyes -"
"That's it. Why didn't you graduate?" Pansy nodded, pointing to the sign.
"Well, aren't you just full of questions today?" Willa asked, feigning enthusiasm as they neared the brick wall. "And what does your mother always tell you about interrupting people?"
"That it's rude."
"That's right, now, just take this trolley, and run straight at the wall, right between Platforms 9 and 10," Willa said, handing the cart to Pansy and loading Aphrodite's cage on top. "Go on, now!"
Pansy took a deep breath and charged at the wall with all her might. In instants, she was immersed in a crowd of witches and wizards all saying their goodbyes to their children, waving tear-stained handkerchiefs and wiping dirt off of their children's faces. Willa followed Pansy as she made her way to the entrance.
"Here's your ticket, love," Willa sighed, handing Pansy a waxy piece of parchment. "Now don't forget to write your mother when you get there. Be good. Make friends. Have fun, deary!" she called as Pansy kept walking.
"Bye, Willa!" she waved over her shoulder and continued on, head low. She didn't want to be seen with Willa and her mousy brown hair and frumpy clothes. Squirming past other children on the Express, she found a compartment with other first year girls. She knew they were first years because one of them was already wearing her uniform, a bushy-haired girl who seemed to be talking animatedly about something. She didn't have a house tie on, just the traditional black one.
"Hello?" Pansy said as she slid open the compartment door. "Mind if I sit here?"
"Not at all," the bushy-haired girl said, sounding slightly irritated that she had been interrupted. As soon as Pansy had put her trunks in the compartment above her, with much difficulty, and sat down, the bushy-haired girl struck out her hand.
"I'm Hermione Granger," she said, her voice slightly bossy.
"Pansy Parkinson," Pansy replied returning the bossy tone. 'What kind of name is Hermione?' she asked herself. "Funny. I haven't heard of the Granger family before."
"Well," Hermione said, her cheeks reddening. "My parents are muggles."
"Muggles, are they?" Pansy sneered. "Um, Her-my-oh-ninny," I think you should go now."
"But," Hermione said, a slightly dazed look on her face, "but I was here first."
"And now it's time for you to go," Pansy said assertively, a smile still on her face, tilting her head slightly to the side. The other three girls snickered.
"But, I don't understand -"
"Leave, Her-my-oh-ninny," Pansy said, slightly annoyed.
"It's Hermione!" she retorted, large front teeth biting her lip.
"Fine then," Pansy said in the high voice her mother used when she was speaking with a bothersome client, "if you won't leave, I will." Pansy turned to the other three girls, who had been watching intently. "Ladies?"
The other three rose and took their trunks from the shelves above. Hermione looked stunned.
"But Tracey, I thought we were -"
"I don't talk to muggles," the girl with the ponytail spoke. Hermione's jaw dropped.
"But, but -"
"Bye, Her-my-oh-ninny," Pansy giggled, wheeling her trunks behind her as she and the other three left Hermione alone in the cabin. They stumbled across another cabin, with just a chubby boy and his toad. "Move," Pansy said abruptly.
"Huh?"
"Look, there's a cabin down the hall with a girl who'd be perfect for you. Just go," Pansy said sharply. Her patience had been wasted on the muggle-born.
"Um, uh…"
"Move it, Longbottom," the larger of the other three girls stated, letting go of her trunk to crack her knuckles.
"Okay!" Longbottom said hurriedly, scooping up his toad and battered-looking trunk before leaving the cabin as quickly as he could. Pansy and the other three girls took their seats. Tracey sat beside Pansy while the other blonde and the large girl sat opposite them.
"What are your names?" Pansy asked them.
"I'm Daphne Greengrass," the blonde said in a nasally voice.
"Bulstrode, Millicent Bulstrode," the thick girl said.
"Excellent. All respectable wizard families, I assume?" Pansy asked with a crooked brow and the lift of her wrinkled nose. The other three girls nodded.
"We wanted to tell that Granger girl to leave," Daphne said eagerly, "but she wouldn't stop talking."
"All she kept talking about was Hogwarts: A History," Tracey whined, smacking some Drooble's Best Blowing Bubble Gum against her glossy lips.
"It's some dumb book about school," Daphne said, tossing her long blonde hair over one shoulder with a scoff. "Like I care."
"What kind of name is Hermione, anyway?" Pansy smirked. The girls chuckled malevolently, and Pansy rested her chin in her hand. "So, I'm assuming you all want to be in Slytherin too?"
"My dad would kill me if I wasn't," Tracey said with another pop of her bubblegum.
"Same here," Daphne grumbled.
"I just don't know where else I'd go," Millicent shrugged as the trolley of sweets passed.
"Anything from the trolley, dears?" the trolley lady called. She reminded Pansy of an older version of Willa.
"Yes, please," Daphne said sweetly, handing the lady two sickles for a Chocolate Frog. Millicent dropped a Galleon into the lady's quivering palm and took one of everything. Tracey bought more bubblegum, and Pansy passed up on the sweets. She knew she could convince Millicent to spare her a Chocoball.
"Oops," Tracey sputtered as one of the bluebell bubbles escaped her mouth and floated to the center of the room.
"They don't pop for days," Pansy groaned. "I got one stuck in my hair once. It was absolutely dreadful."
The other girls winced. Millicent was clumsily trying to capture her chocolate frogs.
"I see you have more brawns than brain," Tracey snickered and Millicent glared dumbly back at her, biting into the Chocolate Frog's head.
There was a knocking on the glass door of their cabin.
"Ladies," a pale boy with slick blonde hair and a sharp chin greeted, leaning against the door frame. Two larger cronies stood behind him, eying the candy piled beside Millicent.
"Hi Draco," Tracey and Daphne said in unison.
"Who're you?" Draco asked, tilting his head forward in Pansy's direction.
"Pansy Parkinson. And you?" Pansy replied with a tinge of sharpness in her voice. Her insides flipped a little, but she sure didn't show it. Not yet at least.
"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," he said. "These are Crabbe and Goyle. Parkinson… your mother, she's the editor of 'Witch Weekly,' isn't she?"
"Oh my gosh," Tracey said suddenly, turning to Pansy, "you didn't tell us that! My sister loves that magazine."
"Are you kidding? I love that magazine," Daphne exclaimed. Draco chuckled.
"You lot got wizard parents?" Draco spoke, his voice drawling a little as he turned to Daphne, Tracey, and Millicent. The three girls nodded.
"You gonna share that?" one of the larger boys spoke, gesturing to the candy and looking at Millicent.
"No," she retorted, pulling the candy close to her. The two boys, Crabbe with bowl-shaped, pudding-colored hair, and the other, Goyle, the one that had spoken, with bristly dark hair, grunted with dissatisfaction.
"Well, we best be going then," Draco said, starting to lean out of the doorframe. "We hear Harry Potter's on this train and I wanna go… welcome him."
"Harry Potter?" Tracey, Daphne, and Pansy said together.
"Huffy Poffer?" Millecent echoed, her mouth stuffed with a Cauldron Cake.
"In our year, no less," Draco repeated, a satisfied smirk on his face.
"Does he have a scar?" Daphne asked eagerly, batting her eyelashes.
"Well I wouldn't know that, seeing how I haven't seen him yet," Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Bye, girls."
And Draco and his cronies sauntered off down the hall, pushing past other first years, including that Granger girl and Longbottom, who seemed to be crying now. Granger stood in the doorway.
"Have any of you seen Neville's toad? He seems to have lost it," she asked in her bossy voice, avoiding eye contact with Pansy.
"No, we haven't, Her-my-annoying," Pansy said quickly. Hermione opened her mouth as if she were about to say something and then didn't, grabbing Neville's arm and walking further down the hall, away from the girls, with an angry look on her face. "No way she'll make it in Slytherin. If she is, I'll pitch myself off the Astronomy tower before sharing a room with her."
The others agreed.