Note: Modern/Muggle!AU, and trigger warnings for car crashes and snippet into DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder)
April 7, 2017
The rain was heavy on the road, but Pansy was late enough to her mother's house. She'd gotten into an argument with her ex-boyfriend about their two-year-old daughter; apparently, he didn't understand the difference between spending measly dollars on materials and spending time with his child.
It took everything in her power not to claw at him for the sake of Tatia. Although she had no one to blame but herself for having a one-night stand with an arsehole at a bar. Her mother made sure that she knew that fact at every opportunity.
Shaking her head and scowling at the recent memory, Pansy peered through the windshield, the wipers going as fast as they could. Unfortunately, it didn't clear her path completely.
Tatia started to fuss, but Pansy couldn't reach for the dummy in the seat behind her. She had to keep both hands on the wheels to drive as best and as swiftly as she could.
"Tatia, dear, please calm down," Pansy pleaded. "Mummy can't get your dummy just yet, okay?"
Her daughter continued to fuss, her wails growing louder. Pansy cursed under her breath, keeping her eyes on the road—as much as she could see—while slipping her right hand back to Tatia's seat.
So far so good, she felt around the seat while Tatia cried, using her left hand to keep the car on the same side of the road. Her foot eased up off the gas pedal as she felt around for the dummy.
"Don't worry, Tatia," Pansy cooed, trying to soothe her crying baby. "Don't—"
It happened so fast, like clipped movie scenes. The sound of squealing from outside mixed with the rain and Tatia's cries filled Pansy's ears. The smell of burning rubber and gas filled her nose. She couldn't feel a thing. Everything around her was spinning rapidly, and at some point, she didn't hear anything. Her world had gone black.
When Pansy gained consciousness, there was a light blinding her. She tried to raise her arm to block it, but she couldn't feel it. That's when she noticed that the light was coming from the men standing above her.
They were asking her so many questions like 'what happened?' and 'how many fingers am I holding up?' Pansy didn't give a damn about their fingers; she wanted to know where her daughter was. It hadn't occurred to her yet that there was no sight or sound of rain.
"Tatia…" Pansy said, her voice like gravel.
One of the men gave her a solemn look. "Ma'am…"
"Where… is my baby?" she asked.
Her eyes swept over the men's faces and their appearances; they were in long, white coats with medical instruments around their necks. Her brain slowly realized that she was not in her car. She was sitting in a bed in a room. A hospital room to be exact.
No one was answering her, and a tiny flicker of fear ticked in her body.
"Where. Is. Tatia?" Pansy demanded slowly. She could feel her fingers beginning to clench into fists at her sides.
"I'm sorry," the same man began to say, "but… if you're referring to the baby… I'm really sorry…"
Something in Pansy's mind snapped. His words were like a hammer, smashing her heart into pieces.
"No…," she said, shaking her head. "No!" Pansy grunted and tried using her arms. She kicked her legs violently. "Where is my baby! Tatia needs her dummy! Bring me, my baby!"
Her insides were burning with this desperate emotion: a growing rage that masked the real pain that she was feeling. Pansy felt the tears falling down her cheeks; it was blurring her vision, blurring her narrowed eyes full of anger and pain.
She was angry that she was late for her mother's. She was angry that she so stupid to drive in heavy rain. She was angry that she lived while her baby… her baby… was gone.
She'd never see that sweet, innocent smile again. Those wide, dark brown eyes full of life. That tuft of dark, soft curls on her head. Gone.
Her throat was on fire as she threw her head back and screamed. One could mistake her for a banshee.
"Someone sedate her!" she heard in the distance. Everything was moving farther and farther away from her person. It was like she was floating, watching herself struggle and fight the doctors that were surrounding her bed. She couldn't feel when the needle pierced her skin or the tight grip of the straps they placed on her.
She couldn't feel a thing at all after that.
August 19, 2018
Pansy sat up from her bed, rubbing her forehead with a soft groan. The night before was very foggy; she couldn't remember anything after taking a bath. It was safe to assume she went to sleep soon after grabbing the robes she wore.
She didn't try thinking about the night before for long. There was a headache brewing, and she was tired of having those this week.
Swinging her legs to the side of the bed, Pansy got out of bed. Her fingers brushed against the mahogany wood of the dresser as she used one hand to pick out a few pieces of clothing. She held the leather skirt out in front of her, examining it and humming in thought.
"You're despicable. Dressing in a skirt like that. Have you no shame?"
"But Opie… I thought she looked pwetty…"
"That's why you shouldn't think at all, Tati."
"Leave the poor girl alone, Opie. I happen to adore that dress."
"You don't have a say after what you did last night, Marcus."
Pansy folded the skirt and the blouse she'd chosen, taking them into the bathroom with her.
As soon as she set the clothes down on the counter, Pansy stared at herself in the mirror. She looked like herself, yet something was different.
It wasn't her hair; her bob looked like it usually did. It wasn't her body; makeup covered her scars from the crash easily. She never wanted to look at them.
It was her eyes. Like something else lingered behind them. Like someone was watching her. Her hand reached out slowly for the mirror, and she heard Tatia's faint laughter. At that moment, everything she wanted to forget rushed back to her.
Her body shook violently, and she clenched the hand on the mirror. Pansy's expression contorted into a rage as she screamed and slammed her fist on the mirror repeatedly until it broke in the centre.
She was breathing heavily as her hand began to throb. Pieces from the mirror fell on the counter, and Pansy looked at her broken reflection. Soon, the pain began to subside; she was drifting away from the moment. She saw her expression turn serious as she ran her bloodied hand through her hair.
"Look at the mess you've made," she said, her tone harsher and firmer than before. "We have to replace the mirror again."
Suddenly, Pansy's demeanour relaxed, and she looked at the smirk forming in the chipped mirror.
"We'll take care of it, Pansy," she said, her tone deeper… sensual.
And then everything went dark.
A/N: Written for HSWW (Challenges and Assignments) and The Houses Competition
(THC) House: Gryffindor; Year/Position: Year 4; Category: Additional; Prompt: [emotion] Fury
(HSWW) Assignment #5 Arithmancy Task 3: write about someone or something unpredictable
Word Count: 1,196
