title: Pansy P.
author: OryssaV
rating: R
pairings: HP/PP
summary: about the circumstances in which Pansy P. dies.
warning(s): character death, murder
disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
author's notes: I like Pansy. And I think Harry would/will make a good murderer.
-:-
Pansy stood still by the side of the lake balancing on her bare feet. Her body was straight and tense. She stood in silence waiting silently for something only Pansy knew will happen. Her muscles throbbed and cramped up painfully, screaming in protest because Pansy remained immobile. She endured so much in these last days that she didn't sleep, didn't eat and certainly didn't care about some more pain. Just standing there pushed the limits of her control, but she managed. Her thoughts drifted somewhere else: somewhere something as simple as breathing didn't hurt.
The wind played with her brown hair how it usually played with girls' hair. It slipped through each lock of her brown tresses with nimble fingers, caressing each like a lover. It marveled at its silkiness. She didn't comb her hair anymore, and it was disheveled, uncared for, with streaks of dirt and dust blurred between the strands. Pansy had not cared about her appearance. She had no time to do so. The war certainly took all her strength. Nothing was left of that nonchalant girl she used to be.
War did change things: ideologies, principles. Pansy had to rethink so many things from the beginning… and yet, she got nowhere she wanted to be. There was so much oppression on both sides, being neutral seemed to be a luxury only a few could afford. Malfoys tried to buy neutrality. And yet, even those few suffered; Draco suffered.
Her bitter brown eyes lingered on the gray sheet of water. Colors changed and mingled together like children playing tag in front of her eyes. The sky could not really outshine the coldness and sobriety of the lake. The seriousness was there even in that tentative smile. But she stared unmoved at its display… staring at one spot with clenched jaw and fists. Whatever crossed her mind was hidden behind that cold mask she learned to keep as a little girl; and only one could guess they weren't happy thoughts. Even the coldest eyes had something about them that made them alive… her eyes had been empty and dry. Whatever happened to make her so empty didn't happen recently. It was slowly eating her from the inside until today.
Today she said enough.
The trees blended their apprehension, sensing something peculiar, by swaying to the sides drunk with the calm. But she did not listen to them pray, cry at her poverty and dismay. She assumed they cried for her, maybe even yelled begging to leave and let them at least hope for the dawn. She deemed it improper to be compassionate; no one showed compassion when she cried and begged.
Suddenly Potter appeared by her side like a shadow of a bird sitting on that branch, appearing out of nowhere, popping up soundlessly and ruthlessly. Her back tensed only a fraction more, arched only a little more towards the lake. At the same time she didn't avert her eyes from the water, from the green light on the other side of the lake where muggles were. Pansy just stared at that broken shafts drinking in the lonely sight. No one would suspect her mind returned to her, her senses perfectly acute.
"You don't know pain." Potter said coldly, giving her a chance to turn back.
"I have never said I did." She said glancing at his face. She knew those shadows, those wrinkles; studied them quite a lot lately. "You're just learning what pain is yourself. But time wasn't gentle with either of us. I, at least, can die. You don't have that option."
He was angry. Pansy felt his eyes burning holes in her averted back. He might have wanted to die, and maybe he didn't. But he lived so that others could live.
With a sigh her gaze fell to the ground. Maybe she didn't need to be modest at times like these.
He looked up at the green light she has been studying previously. She knew his fingers played with the tip of his wand, touching it curiously. His fingers looked rough and scorched. His fingernails were bitten raw. She probably would ask him to show her his hands but that would be a weakness. She knew he would have done it. She only hoped he was smart enough to do it quietly and get rid of the traces.
"Tell them I am sorry." Potter said vaguely, waving his hand with a tired gesture. Pansy sensed that soon he will be just as empty as she is. But there won't be anyone to see it. All those he loved were gone… Pansy made sure of that. It wasn't something she was proud of, but she didn't regret that choice. It was war and people die at war. Whatever side you're on, you think you're on the right one.
"Trust me, they already know." Pansy said without turning around.
The green light didn't frighten her but Pansy didn't turn to receive it into her face either. Her eyes stared blankly at the red sun. She blinked twice; her eyelashes flickered against her cheeks anxiously and then she fell limply to the withered ground. Her white dress fell around her ankles puffed lightly by the last threads of the disappointed breeze. Her toes curled and they blushed purple, sickening slightly more.
Potter stood there staring at the green light. Then he wiggled his nostrils and eyes glistened slightly.
"Since when did I become the killing machine?" Potter asked himself
But he couldn't deny it. It did feel good to see her dead.
Koniec
By: oV