Author: Addison Rae
Word Count: 653
Rating/Warnings: PG, mild cursing
Genre: Angst, humor
Summary: "A Day In The Life Of Pansy Parkinson"

A Day In The Life Of Pansy Parkinson
October 31, 1996

Today is the Halloween Ball. Draco has yet to ask me, and I know he won't. He'll show up at my door precisely five minutes before the Ball and offer his arm. I will take it and we'll enter together. Sometimes all this propriety and status quo aggravates me. I'd like for one for him to just ask me somewhere. Hell, to ask me anything without that damn sneer on his face!

I'm getting ready. My expensive, slinky, revealing silver dress is on, complete with shimmering sheer over-robes. I wont be able to sit or breathe properly for hours, you know. Thank the Gods it isn't fashionable to wear corsets anymore. I'd never make it through this night alive.

I'm staring into my mirror. Pale, thin blonde hair is wrapped up in magical curlers. It will take another hour to set. Until then I sit here. And wait. And think. And muse about my day. How…typical.

This morning I awoke to a rather long drawn out owl from my mother, detailing the latest social gathering. Agonizingly detailed, that. Mother went on to describe her attire, the attire of six friends, and that of the Malfoys, presumably the hosts or guests of honor. Honestly, does the woman have no care for anything else?

I suppose that was a rather asinine query, considering.

After reading said letter, I went to the Great Hall with some girls from my year to eat breakfast. Talk was cheap, as the Muggles say, consisting only of who was being escorted by whom, and what said escort would be wearing in the hopes that one would not "clash" with her date. Again…typical.

After eating breakfast I escaped to the solace of my quarters. The wonderful thing about being a Sixth Year Prefect is the private room. No more twittering numbskull roommates for me. I took a long bath, soaking in lavender oil; almost falling asleep, and then got out to begin tedious preparations.

Notice I say tedious. Merlin, it takes two hours just to make my hair stay in the curlers! You'd think genetics could help the future Mrs. Draco Malfoy out! No, of course not! Thin hair that wont hold a curl without three hours and numerous charms preparation, and in this dreadful color! Blonde. Not Strawberry, not sunny, just pale, dead blonde.

After the annoying bath, annoying hair charms, and even more annoying dress, here I sit. Still alone, still bored, still…I don't know. In another forty five minutes my hair will be set, and I'll have to charm it into an up do fit for my mother, before waiting around for the inevitable knock on my door, signaling Draco's conceited presence.

Timer goes off. I spend half an hour carefully unwrapping hair, and place the numerous and required hair charms. Then I do my makeup, trying yet again unsuccessfully to hide my nose. Why did Merlin curse me with my father's dratted nose? My mother is a lovely creation. Like a wood nymph, or a faerie. Her long shining golden tresses frame the perfect petite face, complete with small, pert little button nose. Whereas my lank locks barely stay under control enough to frame this Picasso like creation the Fates have burned on me.

Finally.

All is finished.

And there is a knock.

I calmly walk to the door, placing a confident smile on my face to hide my shaky knees and fluttering stomach. The time has come to yet again play the future Leading Lady of the Wizarding world. Draco gives me a cool once-over, holds out his crocked arm, and leads me away. Later I will return to my rooms, scrub away the mascara and hairspray, and sink into a deep slumber. One where I am not Pansy Parkinson with the disproportioned face, Pansy who will one day follow in her mothers footsteps, Pansy who will marry Draco Malfoy. But just Pansy. Pansy Rose Parkinson.