Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.
Beater 1: Write about a pet changing an owner's life—for better or worse. / Optional Prompts: Running, "Who's a good boy/girl?", preposterous, bark or meow, pillow
Word count: 2,017
Princess
"I'm going for a run," Pansy says from the doorway as she watches her ex-boyfriend move around the apartment, labeling what he's taking when he officially moves out in a few hours. Draco hums in acknowledgment but doesn't say anything else. She waits for another moment just to see if he'll speak and break this awkward tension they've built up for days, months even.
Nothing. She tightens her ponytail and shakes her head. "I'll leave you to it then," she says in a louder, haughty voice before opening the door.
"Wait!" he calls out, and she turns around expectantly, hand hovering on the doorknob. "The movers should be here in half an hour, and I've emailed them the list you gave me. If anything is wrong, the number of the company is posted on the fridge."
Pansy laughs, high pitched and fake, forcing her feet to carry her beyond the door. "I doubt any company you've chosen will be anything but amazing."
She slams the door shut and revels in the fact that he should be pinching his nose. He always hated it when she was too careless and accidentally slammed doors shut. Well, he doesn't have to worry about that anymore. Deciding the elevator is taking too long, she takes the stairs down, fixing her earbuds and turning her volume all the way up.
The feeling of the wind hitting her face and the pain in her legs as she pushes her speed is cathartic. The anger that's been swirling inside of her ebbs away step by step. She ignores the stares she gets when people notice she's crying. There used to be a time when she would never let people see her cry—some ridiculous notion about pride and weakness that her parents instilled in her—but she frankly can't be fucked to care.
And when Shout Out to My Ex plays, she takes it as a sign and heads for a hair salon.
"It's so … empty." Draco has been officially gone for two hours, and it only took Pansy ten minutes to call Daphne over for support when she returned from her run. Once Daphne recovered from Pansy's new short bob, the true pity party began. They're currently on the couch eating comfort food, watching sappy love films.
Daphne raises her eyebrows. "Empty?" She waves a pizza slice in the air, gesturing to the living room. "What are you on about? You still have so much stuff. From what I can see, Draco didn't take anything with him."
Daphne's not wrong, but she's also not right. All Daphne sees are the number of pictures on the walls, the small trinkets lining the bookshelves, and all the furniture she still has. She doesn't notice how half the picture frames have been taken down, how Draco's contemporary art pieces have left white spots (too white compared to the off-white of the walls), how there are no medical books covering the table and furniture, how the armchair she complained so much about but came to love is gone—just like Draco's individual touches, just like Draco.
"Well, you're wrong," Pansy snaps, knowing her tone of aggression is unnecessary, but her best friend's words rub her the wrong way, as if four years can simply be erased.
Daphne smiles sheepishly, sensing the shift in her mood. "Sorry, sorry, I've been told I'm insensitive." Pansy can't help but laugh at the blatant truth. It's not as bright and full as usual, but it seems to be enough for Daphne to plow through with her next question. "Again, I don't understand relationships and love, but Pansy, darling, you had to see this coming didn't you?"
She inhales sharply, her fingers creating marks on the soft plushness of the couch. She's heard variations of that question from her mother, from her other friends, and from Draco himself.
And it's all true.
Of course, she saw this coming. She saw it from the beginning when Draco asked her on their first date yet she was too happy that this handsome, smart boy had taken an interest in her. She knew their relationship had an end date to it, but still, she's allowed to hurt. She's allowed to cry for four years lost down the drain because they were both too scared to admit they'd fallen out of love somewhere along the way.
She hoped though.
Pansy hoped every day that she would take one look at Draco's face in the morning and say, "I love you," just like she did when they first woke up in each other's arms. Because she did. She did love him. Their relationship was born out of convenience because Draco's dad was pressuring him and Pansy met his standards.
"It fucking hurts," she says instead, letting the tears fall down her face. Somewhere above her Daphne repeats the word sorry like a mantra, and she thinks me too. Daphne runs off to the bedroom and brings back an assortment of blankets and pillows.
"Fuck boys, they're shitty," Daphne declares, wrapping Pansy in a soft fleece blanket. "We're gonna watch more movies and we're gonna cry, but that's it, okay? One day you'll find the love of your life, and it's going to be just like a Hallmark movie. Happy endings for all. Now hug this and eat more ice cream."
Daphne hands Pansy a dragon-themed pillow, and she sobs harder. Of all things for an elite moving company to forget to take, they forget a pillow. Draco's favorite pillow. She feels no shame when she grabs it and presses it to her face. It still smells like him. His familiar and comforting scent calms her down. She's got so much to unlearn.
(She writes a post it to remember to mail his pillow and sticks it onto the fridge.)
Pansy's running again when she passes a cat shelter. It's a spur of the moment decision; she's been having a lot of those lately. She slows into a jog and leans against the building, catching her breath before she enters. She can easily tell that the shelter's seen better days. However, it's nice and colorful.
"Hi, welcome to Abandoned Angels Sanctuary! Do you need any help?" a bright voice calls out, and Pansy finds herself nodding. The worker seems nice and friendly as she makes her way from behind the counter and up to Pansy. The name tag on the worker reads Hermione.
"I think I want a kitten," Pansy says, ignoring the warnings her mind seems to be screaming at her. She has an inkling that a kitten is just what she needs to fill this hole in her life.
Hermione nods and makes a follow motion with her hand. "Well, we have tons of kittens and cats in the back if you're looking to adopt today. Hopefully, you'll find a lovely angel."
She lets the worker guide her to the pens and she shows her the various options of cats there are. Pansy lets out a sigh when Hermione finally leaves her alone. No offense to the other girl since it's obvious she cares a lot about the cats, but she can be a bit overbearing. Pansy plays with the small kittens, seeing which one will call out to her the most. They mew to her and give small licks to her hand. They're very cute and it's hard to choose between them.
Suddenly, a very loud mew sounds and Pansy startles causing the kittens to take steps back. She stands up and walks over the pen on the left side of the room, watching curiously as the cat continues to mew loudly, nudging a paw to the empty food bowl.
"Hey there," Pansy whispers, watching as the cat ignores her and pushes the food bowl. The white-haired cat is gorgeous and has stunning blue eyes. "Who's a good girl?" she says, letting her hand fall in the pen.
"She can't hear you," Hermione's voice sounds out of nowhere. Pansy almost falls and she sends a glare to the girl. "Sorry, but uh, Shiro's deaf. She can't hear you, but she can sense the vibrations you make and she's very adept at recognizing hand signals. It's also why she meows very loud. She can't quite hear herself."
Pansy nods, watching as the cat eyes her and struts over, sniffing her hand and then licking it. Shiro mews again and walks over to the food bowl. "I'll take her," Pansy declares.
Hermione grins. "Of course! Follow me to the desk and we'll fill out the paperwork."
In the end, Pansy changes the cat's name to Princess. It's much more fitting in her opinion when Princess demands to be fed and cuddled. She goes out the next day and buys all the appropriate items needed to care for Princess.
"You're joking," her mother deadpans when Pansy tells her over the phone about Princess. "That's preposterous! You can barely take care of yourself, and now you're going to be taking care of a cat? Ridiculous."
"I'm an adult," Pansy barrels on, ignoring her mother's scoff of, "Barely," pacing around the apartment. "Princess is just what I need right now. She's been great."
"Honey, you're obviously distressed and heartbroken about Draco. For Heaven's sake, you cut off your lovely hair, and you adopted a cat. You'll regret this." Pansy runs a hand through her hair and rolls her eyes. At that very moment, Princess appears by her side and meows loudly. "Oh, god, is that the cat? Why is it so loud?"
Pansy smiles and picks her up. "She's deaf, I mentioned this."
"God, honey, reconsider."
With a curt goodbye, Pansy hangs up the phone. She should've never called her mother. She keeps forgetting how tiring it is. Her mother is wrong, so very wrong about Princess. She'll see.
Three Months Later
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chants under her breath as she searches around her apartment for Princess. "Where is she?"
She's trying not to panic, but she can't seem to find her. If she loses Princess, she doesn't know what she'll do. Pansy immediately closed the door when she noticed it wasn't shut properly after she threw the trash away. She prays Princess didn't see the opening and escape. There are so many things that can go wrong.
Pansy glances under her bed and yells out in frustration when all she finds is the damned dragon pillow Princess favors so much. Her eyes burn and Pansy blinks her tears away.
Princess is her little baby. She's come to love the cat so much. Princess has helped Pansy throughout her recovery journey as a constant, cuddly companion. Pansy closes her eyes and counts to ten before she heads to the door. She slips on her shoes and grabs her keys and the whistle from their hooks.
Rationally thinking about this, Princess can't have gone far. Pansy lives on the fourth floor in an apartment building that's very secure. She wanders up and down the hallway, blowing the whistle. She's about to turn the corner when she hears a familiar mew.
Pansy swirls around and cries in relief when she spots her cat in the arms of a young woman. "Princess!" she exclaims, running to the other woman and cooing at the cat who meows back. "You scared me to death."
"Hi, sorry about that, I found this little one playing with my cat by the door," the woman explains with slight laughter. Pansy flushes. "She must've walked in when I opened my door. And then she wouldn't leave."
It's just like Princess to wander and do what she pleases. "Oh, god, I should be apologizing. She's such a troublemaker. I'm so sorry."
"I'm Luna, and I assume this is Princess, but what's your name?" Luna smiles back, her blonde hair swept up in a bun showing off rather odd radish earrings. She's very attractive and it seems Princess agrees with her when she mews at Luna.
"I'm Pansy," she responds. "Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?"
This, Pansy thinks, might be the start of her Hallmark movie.