The night is clear and dark. The moon is shining with a light that is not hers. The air remains invisible. Not a sound can be heard. And yet, Pansy Parkinson thinks in those exquisite moments that touched her life. Her soul was taken by the cute and pure look of the one who touched her heart but not her mind, the one who made her think about love but not self-conscientious: Harry Potter. Sleep is unreachable and so is her desire to forget such instants. The moon is now reflecting her pale face, accompanied by her short and smooth unlighted hair. It is moment to let her feelings go... with a sigh, and a memory...
It was almost midday. The Great Hall was so full that it was hard to find students from similar houses. She had just entered by the wooden door. Her silhouette was straight, tall, pureness reflective, as always. Some had even stopped eating and talking just to appreciate the perfect personification of arrogance that marched in front of their eyes. To her surprise, none of her mates was at sight: not Crabbe, not Goyle, not Draco. But pride could not loose against common sense, forcing Pansy to sit alone in one corner.
"Accio berry juice!" she cried with an exigent voice, making appear that even food had to obey her wishes.
With deeply focused eyes she stares at the drink for a while. Its color, somehow texture. Then she smells it. She searches for the perfect mixture of ingredients and their respective fragrance. And finally, she chooses to taste it, hoping to be satisfied. And just as the first drop of juice touches her tongue...
"For Salazar's snake!" she wails, throwing the glass to her back. "This stinks! Must have been prepared by a mudblood...".
What Parkinson does not know is that her drink had gone hitting an unexpected target, so unexpected that had produced sighs and sharp expressions.
"Not funny Parkinson" the Gryffindor boy says, tremendous seriousness upon his visage. A girl, also from his house pronounces demandingly: "Leave him alone Parkinson. We have got enough from you and your gang".
Thinking exactly the words to say, her cold voice flies freely through the air transmitting a phrase: "Potter you are over. Same goes for you Granger. I am prefect and you won't like points rested from Gryffindor. You can save yourself mudblood, but not his" .
And turning back from their presence, she walks slowly but firmly into the Slytherin common room. Just being herself makes her so tired... But she won't stop Potter and company stepping on her name and fame. She will just continue being evil Pansy Parkinson, fighting against justice and... Potter's beautiful green eyes.
It is time for Pansy to rest. Her conscience is calmed now that she has remembered. The image of Harry Potter is like an anesthesia that is injected through her body, allowing her to breather. She slowly closes her wide eyes. How pleasant it is to remember...
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A/N: Somehow short memory, but memories are like that, just a flash! I hope you have enjoyed Pansy's first night off all the endless ones that are to come! Please review and make constructive comments to help me improve my writing. Thank you!