42.

Pansy:

"To call you I had to

walk a black road

like the mouth of a wolf".

She rang the bell three times in a row, fast. She was so excited, she wanted to scream with happiness! The door opened. Hermione was breathing rapidly, as if she had run to get there.

"THE OWLS!" They said at the same time.

Pansy's breathing was almost level considering she had run to the Granger house. She was holding the parchment of the letter that had arrived this morning so tightly that she had wrinkled it and her fingers were beginning to ache from the force she exerted.

"What did you get?" They asked, again, at the same time.

They both started laughing then, from the double coincidence, and Hermione moved to the side to allow her to enter. She was led up the stairs and as they went up they entered a room that Pansy knew immediately belonged to her girlfriend. It was very obvious that it was her bedroom: by the shelves full of books, and other books on the desk near the window, and even more books near the bed... But she preferred to focus on other less obvious details: the photos on the desk caught her attention, she knew that Muggle photographs did not move, but she was still curious, as if they were hyper-realistic drawings; next to them was a sober colored telephone. There were various pastel pink things, like the curtains, and she could only think "cute" because of that. There was even a stuffed tiger near her pillow, adding even more reasons to crown her adorable. Was it decoration? Inanimate toys still intrigued her; at least her McDonald's toy did move, not exactly by itself, but it did. The whole room looked very neat, as expected, her girlfriend was not the type of girl who left her clothes lying on a chair in the corner.

"Here." Hermione handed her a letter.

It was already open, so she unfolded it while offering her her own letter, so that she could read her results as well. Unlike hers, the paper was flawless and not at all squashed.

ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVELS

PASS:

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (E)

Acceptable (A)

FAIL:

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

RESULTS OF

HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER.

Arithmancy: O

Astronomy: O

Care of Magical Creatures: O

Defense Against the Dark Arts: E

Charms: O

Ancient Runes: O

Herbology: O

History of Magic: O

Potions: O

Transfiguration: O

The only difference in terms of subjects Hermione and Pansy had was that instead of Arithmancy, the Slytherin had opted for Muggle Studies. She was especially glad to see that in Ancient Runes there was also an outstanding, despite all Hermione's worries, getting a single bad translation done on a paltry word, considering the complexity of the exam, was not enough to deserve an Exceeds Expectations or less.

Actually, she was feeling a bit intimidated now. Hermione was a study beast, which wasn't a surprise, but it was still shocking to see. She managed to get OWLs in all the subjects she enrolled in for the fifth year (even her Exceeds Expectations in Defense Against the Dark Arts was still a high enough grade to be able to continue taking it for the next year). Whereas she...

She glanced at the bed, where Hermione was sitting reading her notes:

RESULTS OF

PANSY PARKINSON.

Astronomy: E

Care of Magical Creatures: P

Defense Against the Dark Arts: D

Charms: E

Muggle Studies: O

Ancient Runes: O

Herbology: A

History of Magic: O

Potions: E

Transfiguration: O

It was by reading her latest rating that she felt like she could explode and run to the north pole of happiness. Which was, in fact, the cause of her marathon to the Granger home. She had gotten an Outstanding in Transfiguration! She didn't even know how it was possible. Well, yes she knew, she was standing in front of the cause. That is why she wanted to show her her results.

"Pansy, your grades are excellent!" She exclaimed. "I am so impressed! Professor McGonagall must have been so shocked... and in Charms you got an OWL too. I told you you could! And an Outstanding also in History? You sleep in almost all those classes, and you never take notes. How...?"

"Professor Binns recites the textbook from memory, Hermione," she said with a laugh. "He does not offer anything new, I only go to his classes for the sake of attendance."

"Four outstandings and three exceeds expectations," she counted, stroking the paper to try and remove the wrinkles.

"Can we talk about your grades? Now that is impressive."

"I didn't do so well in Defense Against the Dark Arts," she murmured dejectedly.

"Are you disappointed? Really? You got an Exceeds Expectations." Pansy looked down at the card with Hermione's results. It was perfect!

"No, no. I just… ah… maybe a little…" She ended up admitting as she sighed. At Pansy's arched brow, she made an embarrassed face. "I am happy! I'm not complaining, really. It's just that I knew this subject would be a problem, and I tried very hard... I was hoping that maybe... Would I exceed my limits? It's silly."

"Typical of the know-it-all," she teased her with a half smile. "Congratulations on your grades Hermione, you really are awesome."

"Thanks. You did very well too, I'm happy for you."

Hermione's smile disarmed her. She looked so adorable smiling at her like that, showing her teeth, her cheeks red with happiness, looking at her with true pride... She moved forward, gently laying Hermione's letter on the bed, making sure no one was going to crush it by accident, and stooped down, to hold her face on both sides. When they were about to kiss, someone yelled a few meters away:

"Everything is alright? You went up so fast that I couldn't offer you anything. Would you like some tea, cookies...?"

They had not closed the door. Hermione, scared, kicked her in the knee as she tried to get out of bed to distance herself. Pansy backed away, biting her lip to stifle her groan. When Kayla arrived, she peered into the room from the doorframe to offer them a friendly smile. Luckily, the "Oww!" Pansy hissed went unnoticed.

"We're fine, Mom."

"You're sure? Hi by the way, Pansy. I insist, you didn't even give me time to say hello!"

"Hello, Mrs. Granger."

"Kayla," she reminded her. "I'm happy that Hermione invites friends from her school. She's never brought friends here before."

"Seriously? I feel quite special then."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, looking away with some guilt, knowing well from Pansy's tone that more than special, she felt painfully kicked.

"I'm surprised you came today. And so early," Kayla commented.

"We were excited about the results," Hermione explained.

"Oh! How did you do?" She then asked Pansy curiously.

"Fairly good. Although I failed in two."

"She's being modest, Mom. Some of my friends have already told me their results. Ron and Harry got it yesterday, and some of my dorm mates on the first day. Ron got several Exceeds Expectations, but not one Outstanding. Harry just one Outstanding. The three of them got seven OWLs in total, but none of them got as many Outstanding ones as she did." Hermione turned, to see Pansy. "You didn't need to pass Defense Against the Dark Arts or Care of Magical Creatures, so it doesn't really matter."

"Wow! Congratulations then. Getting several perfect scores is quite an achievement," Kayla said. "Will you stay for lunch? I'm sure we can do something to celebrate for such good grades."

"It's very kind, but I must tell my mother about my results, and she will surely want to do something with me to celebrate."

"Doesn't she know your results yet?"

"Did you come here without even telling your mother?" Hermione scoffed. She seemed a bit flattered, and even smug, to have been the first person to learn of her results.

"She's working," she mumbled, embarrassed, not wanting to show how little she thought of her mother when she came here. "But she'll be home by one o'clock, so I'll be leaving soon. I won't bother you much more." She tried to catch Kayla's gaze before apologizing. "Sorry for coming unannounced."

"Not at all, you are welcome. You can even call us, ask if we're here, we'll surely say yes," Kayla said, before turning to leave them alone again.

"Stop being so nice to my mother," she snorted, amused.

"It would be stupid of me to make her hate me."

"As you say…"

"What did your mother mean by calling you?"

"On the phone," she clarified. "I never gave you my number because magicians only communicate with letters or through chimneys. It's a shame, honestly, it would be faster to be able to use technology, and my house is not connected to the Floo Network so I only have the owls..."

"Perhaps we would use them if the magic didn't interfere with them," she said, shrugging resignedly. "By the way, Hermione. There is something else that has been drawing my attention a lot."

"What?"

"Hermione Jean Granger?" She asked with a half smile. "Do you have a second name? And is it Jean?"

"Hmm... yes," she confirmed. "Why?"

Pansy shrugged, which seemed to alert Hermione.

"I didn't know you had a middle name."

. . .

To kill time she was reading a psychological novel lying face down on the sofa,; one of Pansy's favorite genres, alongside drama and mystery. When her mother got home, at six in the evening, she continued looking at the book as if she had not noticed her presence, however, she stopped reading. She was feeling a bit annoyed with her, but she had no good reason to be, either, only suspicions: she would have been drinking after work again.

"Pansy," she greeted her as she bent down to remove her heels.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she freed herself from them and walked in the direction of the bathroom. She paused for a second, surprised to notice a letter on the table.

"My OWL results," Pansy clarified, stepping forward, since she'd been watching her movements sideways.

Aurora grabbed the papers then, and flipped through them.

"You got quite a few," she acknowledged. "You told me you needed good marks in Charms, right? And uh... Muggle Studies, was it?"

"Yes. Also in Transfiguration."

"I'm proud of you. You did it well."

"You're drunk?"

It was a rhetorical question. She already knew the answer, her mother had staggered even without wearing her heels, her words also slurred a bit...

"Some coworkers…"

"Mom, you don't have to give me fake excuses," she murmured uncomfortably.

Aurora let out a heavy sigh, resting her hips on the table as she rubbed her forehead with her index finger and thumb. She looked exhausted.

"Today was not a good day."

"Okay," Pansy whispered, returning to her reading. "This... I hope you feel better tomorrow."

Aurora smiled at her in appreciation. All of her actions seemed mechanical, it was one of those difficult days, so she continued with her original plan, entering the bathroom. Shortly after she went to sleep. It was only at midnight when Pansy finished reading, she spent the whole day doing that. She had liked the book and it allowed her to ignore things she did not want to think about. Now she was out of pages as well as excuses.

She ate a sandwich in between her reading, but now her stomach growled again, so she went to the kitchen for some dessert, maybe cookies. She tapped the counter a couple of times with her fingers, uneasy, as she scanned the shelves. She wasn't sleepy, but her book was finished and with her mother in her own room the house felt too quiet and lonely...

She tried to sleep, but eating sugary things before bed surely didn't help her sleep. She turned so many turns in her bed that the sheets had come loose from the edges of the mattress, tangling even more around her body. She felt trapped. Drowned. She got out of bed, tugging more roughly than necessary on the fabrics between her legs, which bound her, and went to her closet to find a light coat. As she walked down the hall, she heard a soft snore coming from Aurora's room, so, with more confidence, she advanced to the front door of her home and left. She walked down the hall and down the stairs of the building slowly. The candlelight at the reception flickered as she opened the last door that separated her from the street. It was quite windy, but it was warm. She put her hands in her pockets as she paced the sidewalk, alone. She was grateful to feel that she could breathe again.

Her apartment was no longer so horrible, on good days they gradually improved it, adding some pictures, painting some rooms in other colors to cover the humidity and imperfections on the walls. It began to look more inhabited and less gloomy. In a way, her new home was more welcoming than the old one: smaller, so it was easy to remember that there was someone else living with her, even the jasmine flavoring her mother's usual perfume helped. Her apartment had almost nothing to envy the Burrow or the Granger house for.

The mansion where she grew up, however, was huge, too much for three people and a couple of house elves. Sometimes it looked like a museum, or even Hogwarts, elegant and impersonal, and yet it was home. Her dad was always there. She never felt lost in the endless corridors or the deafening silence. Huge, spacious, quiet... sometimes cold, because Pansy went to school most of the year, her parents worked and traveled all the time, and the fireplace was rarely lit. Everything was fine there, she felt safe, fresh. There her father was alive and her mother looked happy. That was the home of the Parkinson family.

Pansy slipped down an alley, into the Muggle side of London. Cobblestone streets and candle-lit lanterns were left behind, replaced by electric bulbs, brightly colored billboards, and smooth asphalt. At this time there was still a bit of movement, some couples or groups of friends leaving the premises. Everything was much more rowdy here than on the street where she lived, which was made up of several buildings with apartments for rent to resident magicians.

She looked to her right as she walked, most of the windows belonged to clothing stores, which were closed, with the bars down and the lights off, so she did not stop to look. She dodged two guys who came out of a bar laughing with each other, they smelled of beer. The entertainment venues did not close as early as the retail shops.

Her mother had a problem with alcohol. Days like today, Aurora felt too bad, but somehow she had to keep working, functioning, and she fell into that habit, trying to distract herself with drinking. Sometimes she would apologize and say she wouldn't do it again, other times she would pretend she never drank in the first place. She knew her psychologist recommended going to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, but to Pansy's knowledge, Aurora wasn't taking the advice. She could imagine the cause: the fear of letting go of what was keeping her afloat, and at the same time helping her sink further.

She was also drowning her daughter, as a result. Some days Pansy felt guilty, because in a few months she began to overcome, accept, Narcisso's death, while Aurora continued to suffer as much as the first day. She wondered if she didn't love him as much as her mother, so she didn't have as many tears to shed for him. Other times she was afraid that Aurora would do something stupid, that she would be selfish again and leave her alone.

Her apartment didn't feel like her home. A broken family cannot make a home. She shouldn't need to hear to her mother snoring, alive, to feel more secure. Nor feel suffocated by a house that began to have warmth.

She rubbed her eyes with the sleeve of her coat, wiping away the tears, and ended up using the palm of her hand to wipe the ones that had already fallen down her cheeks. She did not like to see her mother suffer. She hated not knowing what to do.

Without realizing it, she had come to a bridge. Some cars passed by, fast. Behind her were the people, the fluorescent lights and the smell of alcohol and tobacco from the bars. She dug her hands deeper into her pockets, clenching them into fists, and then she let out a loud exhale. She kept going, stepping into the darkness.

At night you couldn't see the horizon; that was, for Pansy, the biggest difference it had from the day. The Sun was not up, indicating the end of the tunnel. There was only darkness and the noise of cars when they passed over her head, which could be heard in the distance, drowned. Maybe drowning in the Black Lake would feel like this. Because somehow this reminded her of her bedroom in the Slytherin common room, her ears as if they were plugged, hearing only the echo, a drip... Was it cars or snakes? They sounded more and more like a hiss. Or was it her own feet, crawling? She couldn't breathe, didn't dare swallow the water... the air. It felt damp, in London it always rained. But there was a ceiling, she was just crying again.

She felt helpless, her head bowed, hidden in the dark. The mansion was dark that day. Narcisso was sitting in front of the fireplace in the living room, holding a glass of wine. Sitting by the fire, which disfigured his face and the rest of the room with shadows. He looked at it almost fondly, not knowing that he would be consumed by its flames the next day. "My father, your grandfather, drank with me sometimes. But not wine, he never liked it, he preferred other drinks. He used to offer me a drink when he needed to speak to me honestly. We sat like two friends, and not like father and son" he told her, Pansy still remembered it well. She sat in front of the fire with him, feeling hot with anger, increasing the flame with the alcohol. "I got into trouble, '' he confessed, he looked like a child. Pansy asked what was wrong, she wanted to know the Parkinsons' problem. "I listened to some friends, and my mistake is going to cost us"; although she insisted she did not get any more explanation than that. She did not know more even today, only that some friends betrayed her father, and that her father himself betrayed other friends by cheating them. Narcisso didn't sound like a good friend, or maybe his friends weren't. That day they sat talking like two friends, curiously, and not like father and daughter. He asked her about her favorite book, and she answered the truth: "Everything is White." He read it that night, along with Pansy and the fire. She hated it so much, for daring to melt the snow. He recited a few phrases out loud, Pansy hated every second. Narcisso's friendship was warm, when she needed her dad to feel safe... Her home had never felt like this, that was not her home.

Her apartment was warmer than ever and her mom was sad. She didn't know what to do, other than put out the fire. Cold, water... Not asking, she didn't want the answers about anything.

The tunnel ended, and right at the exit she saw a few coins scattered on the sidewalk. She looked around, but this part of London was quieter, the Muggle who lost the coins was gone, there was no one but her. She bent down and picked them up. She walked to a phone booth at the end of the street. In Muggle Studies they spoke to her about telephones, Hermione also. She learned from the OWLs how Muggle money was handled. Now she knew that their coin is called a pound and that five pounds equaled one galleon. Magic interfered with technology, but not if it was away from wizard concentrations. The more complex, the more it failed. If a muggle computer worked six years or more, it worked a year for a lucky wizard. She put down a coin and punched in a few numbers, the ones she remembered Hermione telling her.

"Hello?" She heard her. There was quite a bit of interference, but she could still hear.

"Good evening, Miss Jean."

Only static sounded on the line. Pansy thought about speaking again, but Hermione beat her to it.

"What...? Who speaks?"

She pursed her lips, but laughter began to leak out. She wanted to calm down, but it was impossible. The scared tone with which she asked was too funny.

"Oh for..." Hermione growled. "Pansy, is that you?"

She managed to let out an "aha" choked with laughter. Her anger only made her more hilarious. Her cheeks burned, her chest felt warm as she listened to her yell complaints and scolding. If it weren't for Hermione, everything would remain eerily silent. She couldn't see her, or the horizon in the middle of the night. Everything was so dark and her tears began to put out the fire. Her laugh now sounded sad.

"Pansy?" she called her. She let out a sob, couldn't answer anymore. "Pansy, what is it?"

"I'm scared," she moaned.

"Why? What happened?" Hermione's tone was now much firmer and more confident.

"I'm worried about my mother," she replied, wiping her face with her free hand.

Is she okay?"

"Asleep, she drank a lot."

"I see…"

"She is sad. I don't know what to do."

"Did you talk to her?"

She was silent. Of course they talked: Aurora would tell her things, they decorated her house together, they ate at the same table.

"Pansy... how did you call me? Where are you?"

"On the street. It's all pretty dark…"

"You should go home," she said. The concern in her voice was obvious. Pansy felt worse, she didn't want to worry her. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

She had no idea. She didn't want to know things.

"Won't you leave me?" She asked, her voice cracking.

"What? Why...?"

"I was so lonely, Hermione... I still feel that way sometimes. When you're not with me… sometimes I…" She swallowed hard, her throat stung as she did so. "I felt very lonely. Today. My room felt so small. I was hot. I needed to get some air."

"I'm here," she soothed her. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I feel very happy and very sad at the same time," she whispered. "You, Luna, Rachel, Sophie, even Harry and all the Weasleys, make me happy. My mom doesn't have that. If she did, maybe... she sure would…"

"She has you," Hermione interrupted.

"I'm not…"

"I'm sure you make her happy."

Pansy bit her lip, traces of tears still lingering, soft sobs mingling with static.

"I don't want to go home."

"It's after one in the morning…"

"Even so…"

"You definitely woke up my parents, by the way."

"What? Why?"

"There are several phones, they all ring when you call and one of them is in my parents' room."

"Do all the phones have the same number?"

That hadn't been taught by Hermione or Muggle Studies.

"The ones that are connected to each other. But it's fine. Just... don't call so late again, my parents will kill me."

"I suppose your life matters to me, Jean. You're safe for now, I won't do it again."

"Is my middle name funny to you?"

Pansy gave a soft laugh, she was quite hoarse.

"Better?"

"Annoying you always makes me feel better."

"What an idiot," she sighed.

"I can't believe you called me."

"It bothers you?"

"I'm rather impressed. I didn't think you would remember my number. Your good memory is starting to scare me."

"I wanted to do it. I mean, today I was impulsive and I did it... but I wanted to do it another time, I wanted to try it, to be able to listen to you without having to go to your house."

"Don't you want to go back now? Maybe your mother worries."

"She's asleep."

"I don't think it is a good idea for you to be alone in the street in the middle of the night."

"I'm with you."

"You know what I mean, " she scolded her.

"A little while longer. One more coin and then I'll go home." She relented.

"Thank you," she said, the relief in her voice obvious.

"I didn't mean to worry you."

"Not at all. It's fine. I don't want you to do stupid things like stroll around at night, but knowing you, it doesn't surprise me. But you are not alone, even if you feel that way sometimes. We all need someone from time to time, I'm glad I can be there for you now."

"Isn't that silly?"

"Of course not," she flatly denied.

"Your parents... you went through horrible things, I shouldn't..."

"And you did too. There is no point in thinking about when we deserve to be sad. It's your feelings, okay."

The phone issued a warning that the call was close to ending. She added another coin, spreading it out. When talking to Hermione, Pansy felt less lost, so she didn't want to stop.

"I'm ashamed of this... outburst," she admitted. "I just... got overwhelmed."

"You put up with me during the exams. It seems fair for me to endure your crisis at dawn."

They both laughed. It felt good. Hermione always helped her. This warmth was fine. The static, her laughter, the crickets chirping in the background, the heat in her chest even in the cool summer night. She played with one of the drawstrings on the hood of her coat, leaning against the glass of the booth. They spoke. Hermione would stay, she marked her presence by commenting on things that most would consider boring; Pansy too, actually. But it was Hermione who told her those boring things, the historical data about the book she was reading before she called her, her explanations about the workings of the telephone or about the why of static by magic. Being with her was so easy, so comfortable... it made her feel safe.

When it came time to drop another coin, she didn't. She wanted more than anything to keep listening to her, but Hermione wouldn't allow it; and she was right, it was late.

"Would you send me an owl? It will take a while to arrive, but it would leave me a little more calm," Hermione said.

"Yes. I will do that."

"And Pansy... I'd like you to call me again, another day. But at a decent hour."

"Maybe I will," she said, feigning disinterest, and a smile escaped her as she heard the snort on the other end of the line. "I'm having a hard time resisting blowing up a phone booth by forcing it to work with magic."

"Actually, that could be a problem..."

"Later, I will. Whether you want it or not."

Hermione sighed, but didn't seem at all bothered by the possible future mess. Probably because it bothered her as much as it did Pansy to end the call. Hermione liked talking to her, she really enjoyed her company; It felt good to think about it: that if it were up to both of them, they would talk all night, they would dedicate themselves until dawn...

Pansy released all the air in her lungs when the call ended, leaning even more against the glass of the booth, savoring the bittersweet of the situation. She came home later, just as she promised. She approached the window as soon as she entered, Mrs. Pest was there. The owl was always around when Pansy was feeling restless. She wrote a quick note saying it was okay "for Miss Jean" and tied it to Mrs. Pest's leg to give to Hermione. When she turned to go back to her room, Aurora was in the hall, watching her. The line of her forehead was marked by the expression of concentration she had, which was surely mixed with the pain of the hangover. She walked past her, but reached the door of her own room without being stopped. Aurora didn't seem to want to demand answers from her. She obviously knew she went out. Maybe she was worried.

"Mother."

Aurora turned around, she seemed surprised that she had spoken to her.

"I couldn't sleep," Pansy said.

"I see. Are you sleepy now?"

"No, I'm not sleepy."

Aurora shifted position, causing her weight to be supported by her left leg. That way, she faced Pansy better.

"Would you like me to make you some tea?"

Pansy nodded. She followed her mother into the kitchen, as she made a cup and boiled water.

"Won't you join me?" She asked.

Aurora again looked surprised, still and unsettled for a few seconds, but she grabbed another cup in response.

Pansy needed to talk to her more. She wanted to do it, rather. Talking about their OWL results, their future, how they feel, laughing, crying... she never wanted to fear the warmth of home again.