In Fond Remembrance by BibliophileAnya
Summary:
In Fond Remembrance- viz. viz. (namely) In the language of flowers; symbolism of culmination of different types of Pansies. Featuring a snarky SI Pansy Parkinson dealing with an intrigued besotted Harry with the full approval of his Dogfather, long-suffering Hermione and Ron and Slytherins being Slytherins but with a chance at redemption. The rest just fall in and Pansy would blame the butterfly effect.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything nor I am making any profit.
Character Index: SI-OC as Pansy Parkinson, Pansy Parkinson's mother, father and younger sister(not canon as her family was never specified), Parkinson family house-elf, Lady Greengrass and Lady Carrow, Daphne and Astoria Grenngrass, Hestia and Flora Carrow.
To live in hearts we leave behind / Is not to die." Thomas Campbell, Freedom, Hallowed Ground.
Pre-Hogwarts Arc
Chapter 1: Flowers follow me beyond the grave
Flowers. We see them everywhere. They are used in events, celebrations, birthdays, anniversaries, births... Also deaths.
More specifically funerals.
I was nothing special in my last lifetime. A perfectly average high school girl who died before her time. I was ambitious, carefree, cheerful, a social butterfly. I loved my name. I loved my family, my life. But I try not to remember that time unless I want it to turn me into an embittered shrew. Well that's not to say I am not a cynical bitch now but oh how the times have changed. Ah wait, where was I? Right, I loved my name. You see I was named after a flower.
Funny how that's the only thing common between the me, then and the me, now. A flowery name. If you would ask any of the high society witches, they will say that Pansy Parkinson was a bright girl, but there was something wrong with her. She didn't act like a child, she was cynical, sarcastic and was detached from the world.
I could see why the original Pansy turned out to be the way she did. Upper society politics, the etiquette, trying to constantly please her horrible parents, who were not interested in parenting at all. They were like those high society snobs who only had kids to further their legacy, nothing more nothing less.
My sperm donor Perseus Parkinson was a cruel man. He held true to his namesake, the former Minister of magic in the 1700s who tried to spread anti-muggle sentiments like the wizard supremacist he was; dumbass bigot. He was average in looks; none of the distinctive features of Blacks and Malfoys or even Potters or Weasleys. I got his eyes.
I remember scoffing at the mirror wondering of all things to have, why the eyes. At least my egg donor had pretty eyes. While I did get her eye shape; round and wide with full lashes it was the colour I would have liked.
My egg donor Petra Parkinson was a vapid woman, always giggling girlishly, gossiping in luncheons, frivolously spending money. The typical pure blood trophy wife. I added typical pure blood because despite all that she was in Slytherin for a reason. She was cunning and ambitious. She used to belong to a minor pure blood family but she cut down the competition and married the current Lord Parkinson with her tenacity.
As a feminist millennial I do not understand that way of thinking. To do everything for a guy? Please; my life is my own and my biggest ambition wouldn't ever be marrying a rich guy. Marrying a guy yes, but with my reincarnation gone wrong fiasco I doubt I could marry a guy in this world without constant strain on my mind. Perhaps a muggle? Nah they would be even more bewildered. Hmm decisions, decisions.
Let's get back on track. My ovum donor...
She was pretty but not beautiful. Her eyes were eye catching though. A deep blue.
I inherited her features. I had a round face which would thin into a heart shaped one as I grew, wide hazel eyes shaped like her, brown hair. I also had a button nose. The generalized beauty standards for women consisted of a delicately long and sharp nose. I can see why I could have been called pug faced by my apparent future enemies but at the same time I didn't. I mean I didn't look anywhere like a pug.
Nevermind.
I needed two years to get hold of all my mental and physical faculties. The memories had assimilated and I was finally in control of my own baby body. What? Did you think everything was instant? Bada bing Bada boom? Yeah no. Think again.
I was two when I figured out my extremely small nanny didn't have a birth defect but was actually an entirely different creature. The wands and meagre tricks were dismissed as fantasy, parlour tricks or my baby body's faulty eyesight.
I finally found out that denial isn't just a river in Egypt... And I was in one of the most lauded fictional worlds I once read about and on the losing side of the upcoming war to boot. Cue the hysterical breakdown. Well more like mental. In a few months I mustered enough strength to accept my new reality, mark my words; accept not embrace.
My egg donor visited once everyday as a token visit. She talked in a snobbish high English accent for a while and then went away clearly uninterested in the baby she produced. Well then...
My sperm donor? Well he made his routine monthly checks and that was that. I do not know what they did when I was less cognizant but as of age two, my apparent family life in the future was clearly obvious.
I was three years old when I found the reason to live rather than exist.
That was when my egg donor gave birth to the only good person in this screwed up family.
Peony Parkinson, my little sister. They had the heir; now time for the spare.
I think I lost my heart when she looked up at me, her deep blue eyes hazily unfocused, the soft fuzz of our shared brown hair tickling my hands as she tried to poke my eyes out in an attempt to grab something; probably my nose.
And I was nothing but reticent so I tried to ignore her. I had a younger sibling in my past life. There was no way I was going to replace them.
But my parents were horrendous and little Flopsy our tiny house elf wrangled her fingers and tugged on her lopsided big ears as her protruding green eyes got misty as she nearly cried about trying to help my screaming baby sister...
How unoriginal naming a being with lopsided ears; Flopsy, I mused before facepalming as she stuttered in despair, "Mistress Pansy the young Mistress cries. Flopsy be trying, but she screams."
I took a heavy breath and muttered, "How do you not know what to do with a crying baby? You were my nanny!"
Flopsy remarked piteously, "But Mistress Pansy never cries! She stares."
Right I wasn't a normal baby, thank you for reminding me that. And I stared creepily as a kid, I wonder if that scared off my crappy donors even further.
I patted the tiny elf and she gave me a tremulous smile.
I sighed, put on my big girl panties and stopped swimming in the Nile.
Well partly.
It helped my little sibling was a girl, I could easily distinguish between her and my little brother before.
I shook my head to clear unwanted memories and made way to the humongous nursery. I grabbed Flopsy's hand much to her pleasure as she led me towards my sister.
And there she was, her tiny face scrunched in exertion, red due to excessive wailing.
I crawled inside her crib, half sitting and grabbing her towards me. She opened her tears eyes and I felt like she stared into my soul as her crying lessened to hiccups until she fell asleep.
I looked up at the intricately carved ceiling of the Parkinson manor for answers.
I was stuck in the crib holding my snoozing baby sister in an awkward position.
I glanced at a smiling Flopsy and she grinned mischievously at my unimpressed stare and popped away.
Alright, my house elf was a manipulative, sassy little thing.
I was reluctantly charmed.
Peony was a bright vivacious little thing. She interrupted my 'me' time, didn't allow me wallow in my thoughts and had me tail her everywhere. I was completely enamored.
And she knew it that little monster, I thought fondly. As she held 'The Tales of Beedle and Bard' stubbornly at me, "Sisi read!" I recalled how that name came to be.
She butchered my name very hilariously. It started off as her first word, 'Pa'si' then I caught Flopsy trying to explain to her how 'Mistress Pansy was sister!' She cocked her little head said 'Pa'si si? in that adorable baby lisp and then nodded her head mulishly and that's how, 'Sisi' was formed.
We were sitting all dressed up in the playroom which constituted half of books, entirely due to yours truly.
Another thing for my crappy donors to boast. How their heir was extremely intelligent despite being a girl; sexist society...
The books were my escape. Knowledge is the greatest weapon, I held firm to that motto.
I went through a lot of books. Both Petra and Perseus weren't big readers and they decided to allow me the access to the Parkinson Library with only Flopsy's supervision, that would be extremely careless if I was an actual baby.
The library was huge with diverse topics. And by diverse I mean in the dark-illegal category, well a lot of different things, rituals, so called light magic and everything under the belt. Hey at least I get to experience that secret book in that bookcase as a lever opening into a secret room which was tada; a dusty library!
Parkinson manor had many secret rooms I would come to learn. It was grand and big with intricate architecture leaning towards gothic but intermixed with floral. Each important room had a hidden door, worst than a mole's den. Case in point the treasury. What did you think the Purebloods kept all their money with 'money swindling lesser creatures like goblins'? And I am using the exact words Perseus told me. Paranoid bastards.
The mini library in our playroom had all the fairy tales, and books pertaining to younger audiences along with my crappy donors' school books. It was a blessing. What intrigued me most was magical theory. I remember the rampant fascination for Arithmancy and Runes in the fandom before but when I went through Perseus and Petra's books, who took those electives respectively, it didn't live up to that hype.
I admit I was surprised by my crappy donors, but well Arithmancy was necessary for managing businesses and Runes was just learning a new language. Arithmancy was basically maths with added calculations factoring Astronomy and Runes were old languages, while they held power it was nothing substantial as compared to spells. A complete letdown.
Runes needed a lot of magic to power and it took years and years for them to completely absorb it and become powerful. They were good for wards, for homes, as multitude of magical people lived in there, thus the constant ambient magic, but anything other was a waste of time and magic. I mean if I could just belt out an Incendio and get a stream of fire as compared to getting an ember after feeding my magic an entire day to the fire rune? What would you choose? Of course this info wasn't kept in the playroom library, it was in the Parkinson library and no, not in the secret enclave; that was for the virgin rituals and stuff.
Now magical theory, that was an interesting topic... Have I mentioned how only specific people could study it? Especially those with an inherent ability to sense magic? Well you guessed correctly, I had it! Please note the sarcastic enthusiasm.
It was nothing as obvious as the chakra sensing in an anime I used to watch... Just a presence, a familiarity, a particular feeling, a particular colour and taste. I mean when you eat a chocolate, you needn't explain the taste because you have tasted it, also it cannot be exactly explained. I mean why is the colour blue, termed blue? And no I am not asking about the scientific or historical jargon about light refraction or how it came to be termed as 'blue'. It just is. So it was a pinging presence, sometimes, heavy, sometimes heady. The most I could equate it to was different emotions, or as it were; intent.
Intent was very important in magic.
Like the Parkinson Manor had long standing runes, the magic screamed secretive. Like an elegant lady assassin who tried to seduce you in order to entrap you.
As for people? Well it depends on you. I mean you won't ask a person to explain why they see the world in that specific way nor will they be able to explain. It's exactly that.
For me my crappy egg donor felt like the annoyance I felt when a particularly boy obsessed gold digger crossed my path. See an emotion, expressing my views on that person! Not a colour nor a specific presence. It was because of my impression regarding her was that. For someone else she might feel different, well those who could sense magic anyway
Guess where I found those books pertaining this knowledge? Exactly; in that secret enclave.
Peony for me was what I would equate to sugar, spice and everything nice. Sunshine and rainbows... That's what she was to me. Need I explain further?
It is all about how the mind perceives different things and people; magical theory. As such there is no exact research for this branch of magic.
Hence magical theory was deeply embroiled in the mind arts. Occlumency and Legilimency...
Legilimency is the act of magically navigating through the many layers of a person's mind and correctly interpreting one's findings. Now that was what I knew from before. But it isn't that easy.
There are different types of Legilimencies from what my studies have found. And Occlumency is not just shielding your mind from invasion, it is a much more varied and vivid branch. I think Sherlock Holmes' Mind Palace would be included in one of the various elaborations of Occlumency.
It was a delicate process, learning these mind arts and it needed one to be firm in oneself. Be it in the manner of Voldemort's single minded psychotic rage and arrogant belief in himself, Dumbledore's self effacing guilt for the greater good or Snape's self loathing bitterness for his obsessive love. Thus they were well versed in mind arts. They had a focal point, a centre around which they interspersed emotions and memories and knowledge.
I wonder what would my focal point be?
Well, these were all assumptions as of now, I was six years old and that's all I had found. I hope that I would be able to maintain a modicum of a mind-shield before Hogwarts. My mind had secrets and they shouldn't be handed over to anybody. Besides I could probably do it with a lot of effort. It had nothing to do with my physical age, mind ages very differently after all.
The magic sensing would be both an aid and hindrance. For instance:
Currently in my minds eye, my personal sunshine was coalescing weirdly as if annoyed. I could make out the tinges of emotion because I was the closest to Peony, she was my most dear person. I knew her inside out.
Peony was pouting, deep blue eyes shining, brown curls swinging. I all but melted in a puddle of goo as I opened my eyes to her.
She mumbled, "You got lost in your own head again, Sisi!"
She admonished still waving that infernal book in front of me, "You know we are having guests over! Mother said to be on our best behaviour!"
Ah she never understood my intense hatred for 'Tales of Beedle and Bard'. Guess which story was her favourite? 'The Tale of Three brothers', of course! Why would it be anything else? I grumbled to myself as I read her the story.
I almost stopped as I felt undistinguished presences heading towards me along with my egg donor. Unknown people then. I could make out four children. I couldn't tell their age. Distinguishing their gender wasn't possible and I would try to figure out why later but I could feel them along with two unknown women approaching us.
It is pretty weird how I could identify stuff like that but at the same time I couldn't elaborate even to myself, how I did that.
It's like a blank slate. The presences get their personality when I start to get invested in those people. It's my own canvas to paint on and I don't know what am I about to paint.
They stood on the doorway but I continued reading. Peony was too absorbed in the story to notice and our visitors were silent.
A high pitched nasal voice spoke, "My, she has a remarkable diction for a child her age!"
Peony's head jerked as she looked at the woman who spoke. I could make out an unremarkable brown eyed, dirty blonde haired woman dressed in fine burgundy robes. She had an oval face and her lips twisted in a saccharine smile. Contrastingly the blonde haired blue eyed beauty with rich navy robes was watching us calculatingly.
Both of them had children on either side of them.
My egg donor was looking pretty too in her own bottle green robes. Her dark blue eyes shone with pride as she spoke, "Introduce yourselves."
We aren't your puppet masters, I thought waspishly but said nothing.
I glanced at her coldly and stood up and curtsied shallowly, "Greetings, I am Pansy Parkinson, Heiress of the Ancient and Noble House of Parkinson."
My sister stumbled during curtsying but righted herself before I could come to her aid and spoke with a cute expression of seriousness on her face, "Peony Parkinson of Ancient and Noble House of Parkinson."
The blond haired blue eyed beauty gently motioned her daughters who curtsied.
"Heiress Daphne Greengrass of Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass." The replica of the lady spoke trying to mimic my cold tone.
Whereas her younger sister dipped her brown hair with an awkward smile, her blue eyes hesitant, "Astoria Greengrass of Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass."
The identical brunette blue-grey eyed twins spoke simultaneously, "Heiresses Hestia and Flora Carrow of the Ancient and Noble House of Carrow."
They headed towards us as my egg donor spoke, "These are Lady Greengrass's and Lady Carrow's daughters. Get along, you will be going to Hogwarts together. Call for the elf if you need refreshments."
And that was it, the other two ladies glanced at their children murmured platitudes and drifted away following Petra Parkinson.
What followed was an awkward silence before my rash baby sister broke it, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Pansy is reading me a story." She chirped making note to speak my full name instead of my nickname.
Daphne replied, "We heard some of it."
The silence broke as Astoria continued softly, "Which one?"
"The Tale of Three Brothers! It's my favourite." My sister answered pleased.
It was as if a damn broke, the twins and Astoria huddled towards my sister and Daphne stared silently.
The twins replied unanimously, lips twitching as if trying to hide a grin, "Ours is Babbitty Rabbity and the Cackling Stump."
Astoria made a soft noise as she looked at Daphne and said, "Ours is The Fountain of Fair Fortune!"
Daphne nodded as regally as she could making me quirk my lip as she raised an eyebrow at me as if to ask, you aren't going to contribute?
I deadpanned, "The Warlock's Hairy Heart."
There was once again an awkward pause before my delightful younger sister huffed, "Ignore her, my sister is weird."
But Daphne looked intrigued, "Mother hasn't let us read that one."
Hestia and Flora amended, "We cannot read that properly yet so we heard the tales but mother forbade that one." Astoria nodded in agreement, "Daphne is better at reading."
Well the three of them seemed Peony's age and Petra Parkinson did say they would be going to Hogwarts with us I mused as Peony agreed, "So is Pansy. That means we are the same age?"
Ah child logic. Apparently when you have similar levels of understanding that means you are of the same age. But then again an average Pureblood's education had similar schedules like primary school levels especially the Sacred Twenty-Eights'.While the Lady of the House does overlook the basic education there is no end to tutors and I am pretty sure there is an entire fraternity of tutors for Pureblood children's education made specifically to pander the so called Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Astoria once again nodded, "I overheard mother, we would be in the same Hogwarts year just like Daphne and your sister."
Daphne looked at me trying to appear cold but I could plainly see the uncertainty in her eyes.
These kids. Trying to act like haughty pureblood daughters. Well they are that but I should not forget that these are also children who by the look of it, are having their first play date.
I raised both my eyebrows, "You do realise, the copy of this book isn't actually readily available?"
Daphne looked at me curiously relaxing as I held myself neutrally and I stared back at her the younger ones watching our silent interaction.
And that was true. While the tales were well known, the original copies of these books weren't distributed in the market anymore. It is thanks to the age old memories of Pureblood wives and ancestral libraries that I even knew the stories. Considering Petra Parkinson never told us these one needn't guess where I knew these from.
"It isn't? But Mother has it in the library." Daphne remarked her exterior breaking into astonishment at my words, ending our silent contest as the Carrow twins piped in surprise, "So do we."
I sighed, "They stopped the production, at least for the original volume."
They all had settled down in the cushioned mini couches surrounding me and were listening to me raptly, even Daphne.
"Nevermind. Do you want me to read it?" I asked grabbing the book to eager nods and Daphne spoke haughtily, "It is only right that you continue The Tales of The Three Brothers as promised to your sister, we will have our turns later."
"I will, will I?" I asked sardonically but Daphne just looked at me imperiously.
Seriously how does she manage to pull of that look at her age?
Flora and Hestia frowned but glanced at each other and in a twin telepathy moment acquiesced. Astoria smiled gently and Peony grinned; thus I found myself as the designated storyteller/babysitter to little brats.
As I recited The Tale of the Three Brothers I looked at my eager audience and mentally sighed. My plans to keep far away from canon characters until attending Hogwarts wouldn't last if these preppy Pureblood wives keep bringing their adorable socially awkward children every time they meet.
So much for being a cynical bitch...
Next Chapter: Pansy just wants to stay away, why are so many canon characters interac with her? Featuring diva Draco Malfoy, silently amused Blaise Zabini, bookworm Theodore Nott and Crabbe and Goyle as backgroud characters as always.
Author's Note:
pin. it/2jpQE pE
Remove the spaces.
- photo credit, if anyone knows the actual artist/model/photographer do let me know.
So originally this was supposed to be Camp NaNoWriMo project but things happened. To my readers who have read my previous works thank you for your well wishes(I feel very honoured and thankful!), it was a false corona positive and My Dad is still an active Physician checking his patients, he is stubborn that way lol.
To my new readers welcome and I hope you like this. Originally it was supposed to be a one shot then turned to a three shot then an eight chaptered storey one for Pre Hogwarts years and then each chapter for every Hogwarts year and then maybe an epilogue. Thus completing the work in 50k thus meeting NaNoWriMo's requirement. But as it turns out I cannot do less chapters.
Rest assured other stories would be updated by a week a so and by those I mean No regrets and To be born of Water and Spirit.
Also I am planning a new work with Sirius/SI-OC/Regulus. That one would be out by the end of this month too!
Also its a birthday promise to myself! I would have uploaded ir sooner but I couldn't edit it as my birthday today has been surprisingly hectic.
I will try updating every 10 days.
Stay safe and healthy everybody!
-Anya.