Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition
Harpies, Chaser 3: Write about a character loving another character despite being mistreated or ignored by them.
Note: Lust: a strong sexual desire; a passionate or overmastering desire or craving, strong desire for something. I've tried to show both forms of lust in Pansy. The part after the first circle is a dream. The second circle is time passing, but still the same day.
Warning: Non-graphic Character Death and Allusions to sex and bruises
Optional Prompts; 2. [Object] Thorn, 4. [Emotion] Lust, and 12. [Object] Toilet Paper
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Potions - Write about a character being reckless; Optional prompt: declare ; Fortnightly Event: Song lyrics - Last night you slept in my bed, and now my bedsheets smell like you - Shape of You by Ed Sheeran
Word count: 2, 308
Thank you Harpies! :)
Disclaimer: Nope. Never Have, Never Will.
beat me black and blue (every wound will shape me)
The bed rocks back and forth sending a calm relief throughout her body, despite the sweltering heat of the room, as she imagines herself in a boat on the ocean, swaying with the current. She can almost taste the salt of the sea air, the bitterness sits heavily on her tongue and in her heart.
She's always loved the sea; always loved the way the water feels as it soaks her skin and bones, consuming her entire essence.
As the rocking of the bed increases, her imagination runs wild. She's no longer calmly floating in the water secure by a boat. She's swimming desperately against the current and the water is cruel. It drags her, pulls her legs and arms roughly, refusing to let go. Its tight hold on her never softens and she's thrashing wildly, hoping she'll be able to free herself soon. But the sea is all consuming and it suffocates her.
Her hands reach out and she claws the body of water in a futile effort to bring herself up to the surface. The water has entered her lungs and made their home inside. Her body is just another piece of driftwood in the vastness of the water. Her vision is filled with black spots and star like twinkles caused by the lightness in her head until all she sees is a blinding white light.
She lets it overtake her. The numbing sensation feels nice; she needs more of it.
But a huge wave appears and pushes her forward till the water spits her to the surface and all the way back to the land. With a loud and painful gasp, all the water in her lungs is coughed harshly out, her body trembling, shaking, and wet on the sand beneath her. Fresh air fills her lung with life and relief.
She loves the sea, but it does not always love her back.
She forgets that. Her memories of playing in the sun by the water or swimming happily seem to outshine the memories of almost drowning and dying. Still, she returns each time to the sea, hopeful and happy.
The bed is eerily still like the rocking never existed in the first place. But she can hear her breath coming out in little puffs and the heavy panting of his breath beside her. The air is hot and so is her body. She squirms uncomfortably, feeling the sweet and slick run down her thighs. The bed shifts and she looks his way. His back is turned towards her as he collects his clothes that were thrown haphazardly around the room.
A smile grows on her lips, soft and fond, as she surveys her handiwork on his back. Long scratch marks cover his back courtesy to her sharply filed green painted nails.
"Are you leaving already?" she asks softly, voice laced with a deep sadness and bitterness. She struggles to sit up but manages to rest her back against the headrest. "To go back to her?"
Draco sighs heavily, slipping his ring back on. He's almost fully dressed, barely sparing her a glance. "Of course, I'm going back, Pansy. Astoria is my wife. That's not changing."
Pansy's bottom lip quivers. "You could stay the night. It's not as if she doesn't already know where you are," she argues, trying to hide the tremble in her voice. "Stay. Here. With me."
"I can't and I won't." He finally, finally looks at her and he frowns. "I could always find someone else if you're going to be so clingy and needy. This has been going on too long, don't you think?" he snaps, gray eyes hard and unmoving.
A series of protest escape her lips frantically. Her heart beats wildly against her chest. No, no, no, he can't do this. No, she needs him. "I'm sorry. I won't mention it again," Pansy pleads, eyes wide and watery.
He nods eventually and grabs his wand from the bedside table, slipping it into his coat. "You are the only one I can be that rough with," he says nonchalantly, like his words hadn't squeezed her throat shut, like his hands did earlier.
Draco bids her a brief goodbye and Apparates to the Malfoy Manor. Pansy watches him go with a forced smile and pained heart. She stays there for a little while longer before settling back to bed. Her body aches all over. She can see the bruises on her hips, arms, and legs becoming darker shades of purple, blue, and black. She should also clean up the mess he left behind, but she doesn't do any of that.
Instead she pulls the bedsheets over her body and drifts off to sleep, imagining the calm sea, and burying her face further into Draco's lingering scent on the sheets.
•
Pansy is seven when she decides she will marry Draco Malfoy.
He's not like any of the other boys who her mother makes her visit. He's not rude and gross. His hand isn't sticky either! When she shook his hand earlier, it was smooth and very nice.
She says just about to her mother. But her mother isn't happy like she is. "The Malfoy family is very strong. You have your eyes set high, dear. You'll never marry him." Pansy doesn't understand everything her mother says, but she understands the word never. "Unless you make yourself pretty and become a respectable Pureblood woman," her mother adds, a cruel tone to her words.
Pansy pouts, lower lip jutting out. She places her hands on her hips. "But I want to marry him."
"Then pay close attention to your lessons," her mother snaps, rolling her eyes. She's lounged out on the couch, idly flipping through a magazine. "Go and bother the elves. Can't you see your mother's busy?"
"Bu-"
"Now, dear, Narcissa and Draco are coming later for lunch, so go and play meanwhile. Do not come to me until they are here. Go away."
Pansy wants to argue because she gets what she wants, her daddy says so. But her mother raises her sharp eyebrows when Pansy opens her mouth, so she closes it and stomps away. When she goes to the kitchen, the elves are busy running back and forth prepping for dinner. She sighs loudly, deciding to go to her room to wait. The bathroom with its door open is what stops her.
Pansy sees the roll of toilet paper and laughs. Her mother will get mad if she uses bedsheets like a wedding gown, but toilet paper is easy to get rid of. She grabs the roll and starts wrapping it around herself. She makes sure to leave larger spaces around her legs. Pansy's seen the photos of her parents' wedding. Her dress was white and poofy; she's trying to copy it.
Pansy smiles when she hears her mother call her downstairs. Draco must be here! She quickly uses the remaining toilet paper to stick a big amount in her hair which she makes sure stays with her father's gel.
She runs down the hall and enters the parlor with a big grin. Her mother's eyes widen and she gasps. Narcissa laughs, the smile on her face fond. Draco stares at her oddly but giggles.
"What are you doing?" her mother hisses, stepping forward to grab her roughly by the arm.
Narcissa places a hand on her mother's shoulder. "Calm down, Rose. She's just a child."
"I'm going to marry Draco," Pansy declares, pointing at the boy. "This is my wedding dress."
Narcissa smiles. "Well, why don't you stand next to Pansy, Draco? I'm sure it'll make her very happy."
"You're absolutely disgusting, you know that?" Astoria snarls, as soon as Scorpius leaves to wander the rest of the gardens. Pansy rolls her eyes. It's not as if she planned to accidentally run into the Malfoy family when she came to the botanical garden. "He's my husband. I hope you know that. He loves me. Not some dirty wretch like you."
Pansy's heart throbs painfully, but she doesn't let her face show it. "Well, it's me who he seeks in the night." She lifts her chin higher in the air. "Not you."
Astoria throws her head back and laughs. She even goes far enough to wipe imaginary tears away. "And who does he always come back to? Oh, that's right. Me." She shakes her head, daring to send Pansy a look of pity. " And he's incredibly gentle with me. He treats me like a precious rose, whispering soothing words into my ear when he caresses me. You, on the other hand, are a dummy—an object to break and leave."
Pansy feels her expression crack, letting a flicker of sadness show. "He leaves his marks on me," she argues, taking a step towards Astoria.
"Is that the reason why you're wearing such a high turtle neck and a long skirt? Because of his supposed love marks on you? Fat chance," Astoria sneers, pulling her collared shirt to show Pansy a soft hickey. "This is love. Scorpius is a proof of our love. Not some bite mark buried in bruises or the limp you happen to have."
Pansy's trembling hands form into fists, but before she can act, Draco walks furiously towards them.
"What are you doing here?" he sneers, stepping in front of Astoria protectively. She sends Pansy a smug smile while grabbing a hold on Draco's arm. Draco seems so cold, like the bed she wakes up to every time the mornings after he comes. "Did you follow me? That's pathetic."
Pansy shakes her head, trying to make herself as small as possible. "No, no, no. I didn't."
"She's a liar," Astoria says.
Pansy snarls. "You bitch."
"Watch your tongue," Draco threatens. He sighs heavily, wrapping an arm around Astoria. "Look, Pansy, this is over. I don't need you, and I certainly don't want you. Don't come near my family or me ever again."
Pansy cries. "B-But I've followed your rules. Every one of them! Why?"
"I'm pregnant," Astoria says clearly, placing a hand on her stomach. "It's time this family acts like one."
"Seven years. That's how much I've given you of my life. No, since I was seven. You can't do this. I love you, Drake. I do." Pansy's heart plummets to the ground when she sees the pity on Draco's face. "Do you love me? Did you ever love me?" she asks, tears running down her face, voice breaking on the last word.
Did you love me when you took away my first kiss?
Did you love me the first night when you were gentle?
Did you love me when I let you mark my body black and blue?
Did you love me when I let you have your way?
Did you love me before you met Astoria? Before you had Scorpius?
"No."
They leave after she falls to the ground, sobs overtaking her. People stare and walk quickly, but she doesn't care. She sits there and let's it out. When she feels calmer, she stands and harshly wipes away the tears.
A bright red rose catches her eyes, and she goes to it. Astoria's face flashes in her mind, and she squeezes the rose. It's weak and crushes easily under her hand. The thorns scratch against her palm and fingers, blood trickling out slowly.
She knows what to do. She's done getting screwed over. It's time for someone else to wear the bruises.
•
Pansy Apparates to the edge of the Malfoy Manor, walking determinedly. She blocks off the wards easily with the flick of her wand. She was there helping Narcissa decide which spells to use. She stays to the shadows until she reaches the front door. She can hear the laughter flowing from the dining room to the door.
Pansy waits no time unlocking it and moving quietly through the house. She sends a brief thanks to Astoria that she didn't want any elves, just her.
She conceals herself with an invisibility spell, watching a small piece of Draco's life.
She wants it to be her so badly. She wants to be the one being a family with Draco. She wants to be the one on the receiving end of his fond gaze. She wants to be the one providing a sense of comfort to Draco and what should've been their child. Watching the pair being so domestic shoots pain through her heart.
It should've been her.
First, she recites the bewitched sleep incantation and watches Scorpius drift off to sleep, face landing in his plate of food. Astoria yelps, standing up to help her toddler. Secondly, she sends her unborn baby a prayer before uttering 'Avada Kedavra' with as much hate as she can muster. Astoria falls like a puppet—like a dummy, an object—to the floor. And lastly, she petrifies Draco.
She wants to be the last thing he sees when she kills him.
His eyes scream and she hesitates. This is the man she has given her entire life to. This is the man who she's cried for years for. This is the man who her heart beats love, love, love every time she sees him. This is the man she loves.
This is the man who never loved her. This is the man she's going to kill.
"Avada Kedavra!" she yells, heart beating a million miles per hour.
Tears fall down her face, but it isn't for him. It's for her.
Pansy points a wand to herself, ready to leave this world like her love, when she remembers young Scorpius. Pansy will not kill him. He's innocent, unlike his father.
Pansy decides in a flash. She will live for Scorpius. She grabs the child and cleans his face softly. She will raise him as her own and leave far away.
Maybe Pansy can still be a family like she dreamed about.