For the Hogwarts forum Assignment #1 for Forestry, Task #4 - Write about a camping trip.
Camping, by far and large, was not Pansy's idea of a good time. In all honesty, it was quite low down on the list. Somewhere near the bottom, really. And yet, here she was, camping.
She sniffed at the monstrosity of a tent that stood, mishappen, in front of her. It was what some people might call a blue, except it was rather faded and the colour was easier to perceive as a grey rather than blue. It leaned too far to the left and sagged in the middle.
It was, in all honesty, a rather bad tent.
"This is absolutely disgusting," Draco said, scowling at it. For a second, he looked like he was going to nudge one of the tent pegs, before thinking better of it. Probably for the best—one touch and the whole thing might come tumbling down. It was bad enough that they'd struggled to put it up the first time, even with magic. Pansy didn't fancy trying a second time. It'd likely take longer somehow.
"Isn't it just," Pansy said with a sigh. Between them laid an unsaid thought—that this was below them.
Even Blaise was frowning at the tent, and he rarely lost his placid expression, even around them. Clearly, his sensibilities were offended, not that such a thing was very hard. Most things offended Blaise's delicate sensibilities, he claimed that it was due to his well-established sense of fashion. In Pansy's opinion, it was really due to his ostentatious nature, though she would never say such a thing about herself of course.
Draco waved his wand but the tent refused to change. Instead, it seemed to sag further in the middle in a perfect performance of disobedience. "Merlin damn it, this tent is the worst I've ever seen. Why did we decide to go camping?"
"I don't really know how much of a choice there was to the whole thing," Blaise said, turning away from the tent and looking around instead like there was something interesting to see. There really, really wasn't. The only thing in sight, for eons, was grass and rolling hills, occasionally dotted with some trees or, Merlin forbid it, sheep.
Still, Blaise had a point. They hadn't really had an option to do anything else—unless they wanted to go overseas. Unfortunately, going overseas likely meant they wouldn't be coming back for a few years and Pansy has spent far too much time cultivating a reputation in the United Kingdom to lose it by moving elsewhere. Besides, Draco had already refused to travel to France with his parents, and she doubted either her or Blaise would be able to convince him otherwise.
"Still," Draco said, "I do believe the idea of camping was your idea, Blaise."
Blaise sniffed, raising his nose into the air in what would have once been the perfect image of Pureblood superiority. Nowadays, it would likely be noted as a haughty expression, which wasn't far off the mark in all honesty. "I recall no such thing."
"Of course not," Pansy said, rolling her eyes, unsurprised by his refusal to admit that he's the one behind the idea.
The trip had been her idea, originally; a way to escape the spotlight of the media in the wizarding world whilst all the Death Eater trials were taking place. Except, of course, their houses were likely being watched and they couldn't very well escape overseas. And so Blaise had suggested camping, though such things were far below their stations that it was quite frankly a ridiculous thing to do. Yet, here they are, mishappen tent at all.
Which, speaking of the tent, Pansy really must do something about it. Because she's not an incompetent witch, Pansy didn't poke the tent with her wand, but waved it with a flourish. The tent, for a second, protested, but then shook itself and stopped sagging so much. The most obvious difference, however, was the change in colour—from a blue-grey to a darker green that reminded all of them of a once-home. "There," Pansy said, pocketing her wand. "Much better, don't you think?"
"Indeed, thank you darling," Draco drawled.
The tent hadn't improved by much, but they could pretend something had changed. They could pretend the tent itself had been something bought, lavish and new, rather than something located in an old forgotten closet. It wasn't much, but it was at least something.
Out here, with the sheep and the lonely trees, they could pretend that they'd had a choice in coming here. For a moment, they could pretend they lived in a world that wasn't following their every step, waiting for one of them to misstep and prove their true dark nature. Unfortunately, pretending only got you so far and it didn't change the state of things in the end.
So Pansy poked her way into the tent, wrinkling her nose at the smell. It smelt like mothballs and stale air freshener spells. The tent itself wasn't very big, but it was spacious enough for all three of them to stand in and it came with two rooms—a large one that served as a three-person bedroom, and a bathroom that was little more than a toilet, a sink, and a shower.
Glancing around, Pansy's gaze ended up falling on her friends' faces. She wondered what they were thinking about. Blaise's nose was crinkled, likely in disgust, but he rolled up his sleeves and stepped forward, clearly preparing to do something about the smell with his wand in hand. Meanwhile, Draco's expression was more contemplative, but what Pansy really noticed was how loose his shoulders were. It'd been a long time since she saw him so relaxed.
"I've suddenly remembered something," Draco announced, pulling out a bed from his pocket and unshrinking it with a wave of his wand. Blaise scowled when he had to dodge it, even as he waved his wand to straighten the bedsheets, perfectionist that he was.
There was a moment of silence before Pansy raised an eyebrow. "Well?" She demanded. "Are you going to tell us what it is or just remember in silence?"
Smiling, Draco said. "I don't know if you remember, really, but back when we'd been children, we went camping together."
With a hum, Blaise said, "Considering I don't recall meeting you prior to Hogwarts, I must say this memory seems rather misplaced. Are you sure you haven't gone batty?"
The proceeding pillow fight, begun by Draco of course, eventually led to all three of them succumbing to exhaustion and reclining on the sole bed that they'd unshrunk so far. "You've ruined my hair," Pansy complained, like she hadn't reached out to yank on Draco's five minutes ago, completely messing it up in the process. "I'll have to redo it."
"Oh no," Blaise said, deadpan, "the horror."
"Indeed," Pansy said as she made no gesture to get up, instead shifting so that she could use Draco's shoulder as a pillow. It didn't make a very good pillow, being rather bony, but it was at least warm and she could hear his breathing next to her; a silent reminder that he still lived.
"But anyway, Draco, you were saying something about camping as children? I can't remember any such thing happened." She really couldn't, she'd tried even in the midst of a pillow fight, but the only thing she could ever remember about camping was the letter Draco had sent during the Quidditch World Cup, mentioning how camping was so below Malfoys that it made sense the Weasleys were doing it. At the time, it'd been an amusing joke—and now they're the ones camping.
Pansy wondered whether it was a fall from their once lofty position to this new one. But then, considering the looseness of Draco's shoulders, Blaise's lack of blankness, and her own uncaring disarray, perhaps it'd was for the better.
"Oh right," Draco said, shifting beneath her. She elbowed him sharply in the ribs, which got him to stop, and she could now feel Blaise pressed against her. There was an arm just above her head, likely so that Blaise could be in contact with Draco. Post the war and everything that had happened, touch became a way to check-in and make sure everyone was okay. It was the same reason Pansy appreciated being able to hear her friends' breathing. It reminded them that they were alive, that they were—somehow—okay, that they were living.
"It'd been when we were very young, possibly before it was socially accepted to be part of the Pureblood society, but…" There was a slow breath out from Draco and a hum of acknowledgement from Blaise. "It was us, and a few others. Not many in total, maybe five. And we were on the Malfoy grounds. There was this massive tent, white or silver I think, and we were allowed to spend the night in it. Looking back, our parents probably did it so that they could have a night to themselves, as we were looked after by House Elves. Still, we had an amazing time. We were so excitable and couldn't stop laughing. I do believe we stayed up all night, and weren't able to stop yawning when morning came around, struggling to keep our eyes open."
The scene Draco painted sounded like an impossible one. Pansy's parents would never let such a thing happen. But… Draco's words called a memory forward, one of impossible white fabric stretching overhead, peacocks cooing, the slow rise of the sun. Her hands felt sticky, suddenly, like she'd been eating candy, and a yawn ached in her jaw, waiting to be let out. "I think I remember," she said, words somewhat faint. Maybe it hadn't happened or maybe it had, it was impossible to say. But it felt real. Perhaps that was enough.
"Things were so much simpler then," Draco said, but his voice wasn't nostalgic in the slightest. It was the kind of vocal tone that knew time passed and that sometimes growing up was better, that the things you learnt later in life mattered and changed you. Or perhaps Pansy was reading into things far too much.
"Maybe," Blaise said, "but we were less aware of the things going on back then. I think I prefer this."
The only question was what this was. Was it them avoiding the press to the point of doing something so mundane as camping? Was it them after the war with nightmares racing through their minds, screams still echoing in their ears? Was it the vilification that came for all of them because they had been Slytherins?
No, Pansy knew, it wasn't any of that. It was being able to do what they want, the new freedom that felt like a fluttering bird caught in their hands. It was being able to depend on each other and have a say in where their future went. It was struggling and deciding yes, they wanted to go camping and be away from the world for a bit.
It was impossible to say if things were better, but… Pansy preferred this too, this quiet comfort of her best friends pressed against her in the middle of nowhere and knowing she was safe.