"Parkinson?"
She hadn't planned to show up like this. Overly dramatic, soaked to her bones with tear stains on her cheeks too deep to even hide despite the downpour of rain. But it was a spur of the moment decision when she grabbed her trunk with what little possessions still gave her joy, and stole away into the night. The truth was her marriage was going downhill, fast. At first she thought she could stick it out and fix it until she decided that she could not. It was a losing battle as she hears Adrian come in, sneak past her door with his pretty, young thing of the week. She was only his wife by title but everyone knew in the pureblood society that she was not the one who kept his bed warm.
So there she was feeling sorry for herself again as she sat in her boudoir in the Pucey manor, brushing her long hair, staring into the reflection of a woman she did not recognize anymore. She looked at her sunken tired eyes that darkened with every night she spent crying, the lifeless pallor of her skin as she starved herself to look as skinny as the women Adrian had brought home, the long limp hair she grew out because that's how Adrian liked it. She realizes that she did a lot of things Adrian liked in a desperate attempt to keep him, to keep the fairytale of a happily ever after.
Pansy glances towards her bedroom door as the Adrian's mistress of the night shamelessly giggles at Adrian's musings. She brings her eyes to back to the woman in the mirror again. When did she let this happen to her? How could she have let this happen to her. The old Pansy would never have let anyone step on her like this, the old Pansy would have fought back and gave it back ten times worse to Adrian. I'm sorry, she whispers to the old Pansy hiding behind this gruesome woman at the moment.
Suddenly, the were fucking and the woman's screams and moans now pierced through her bedroom walls. Pansy puts down her brush and grips a pair of shears on her desk instead. She grabs a strand of her hair, a little piece towards the side of her face and she runs her hand through it. As the moans continued to come through her room, Pansy raises the shears and she cuts, just by her jawline. The strand of hair comes away with her hand leaving her hair short, at the edge her jaw, just how how she liked it. The woman in the mirror smiles at her for the first time and encourages her to keep going. And as the mistress in the next room moans, Pansy cuts another chunk of her hair off. She cuts and cuts until finally the woman in the mirror's eyes twinkle for the first time. Hi, Pansy greets her, I've missed you.
Encouraged by the woman in the mirror she begins to pack her things into one small trunk. She keeps anything that didn't remind her of Adrian. After she's done, she leaves the remains of her hair all bundled in a pretty bow on her boudoir, along with her wedding ring for her husband to find-if he even bothers to look for her that is. She wondered how long it would take him to even notice she was gone. She looks at the woman in mirror one last time and she was off, escaping into the night.
But of course that was two hours ago and by the time she had made it to her destination her bravery had waned. She did not know if it was the grueling trip riding the knight bus, or if it was the sudden downpour of rain as she struggled up the cobblestone steps of her best friend's home with her trunk in tow. But what she did know was that it was not Draco Malfoy who opened the door to her but Harry Potter. His green eyes seemed to put her under the microscope and she couldn't help but feel self-conscious. Whatever bravery she had left had abandoned her.
"Oh," she says trying to hide the waver in her voice, "Is Draco home?" She was doing everything she could to keep her voice even, swallowing down an imminent sob from escaping. She really needed to see Draco, he always seemed to know the right thing to do and she had no one to turn to at the moment.
"No," Harry says carefully, "The Malfoys' went out. I'm babysitting Scorpius, if you want to come in,"
She forces a smile though she imagines that it doesn't come across as how she imagines-more pain than joy, as Harry's face seem to scrunch up with concern, "No, no thats-that's find I'll just come back later. Thanks anyway," She turns to leave, if only to find reprieve and hide her pain from this stranger who only came into her life because her best friend started dating his best friend.
"Parkinson," Harry grabs her wrist to stop her, "Are you okay?"
She didn't know why her story escaped from her lips. It could have been because she was so emotionally spent and tired, or that what the creeping realization of what she had had finally settled down in her, or that for the first time in a long time somebody had ask her if she was okay. But the next thing she knew she telling Harry Potter everything. How Adrian had brought home another woman, yet again. How she had cut off her hair and left her wedding ring. How she had basically run away from her marital home. She told him all this with a smile that barely covered her pain. The kind of smile she tried to put on to try and diminish the pain that she was actually feeling, the kind of smile she put on as if what she was saying was a funny, nonsensical joke and that it should be laughable.
But Harry didn't seem to be getting the joke as he continuous to frown and stare at her through her ramblings, his face growing more and more concerned by the minute. Pansy hated it, she couldn't stand people pitying her. She had for a long time convinced herself that her life was too perfect to be pitied. Now here she was at her lowest and weakest moment and it was Harry Potter, of all people who stood in front of her in judgment.
"Did I do the right thing?" Her smile falters now, only to be replaced with a mixture of desperation and pain, "Please, Potter. Just tell me I did the right thing," she practically begs him, burying her face in her hands as the sobs now escaped her body freely. She was too ashamed to to even look at him in the eye now. How far she had fallen. It was a second or two before she suddenly feels the war hero wrap his arms around her, enveloping her in a tight hug. She didn't deserve it, and she knew she shouldn't accept it, but she was tired, and weak and his warmth was too inviting. Instead she sobs harder because everything was all wrong and terrifying and by morning she knew her world was going to collapse all around her.
"You did the right thing, Parkinson," He tells her kindly as he holds her. Pansy couldn't say why but she knew that he meant it and he waits for her to calm down. He lets her decide if she was ready to break away and when she does he quietly grabs her trunk and ushers her inside.
A/N: I am kicking myself for starting this new piece knowing that I still have to write the ending to Thought of Flowers. But I went on a week long vacation and now I have severe writers block and I can't seem to get back into the mindset I had when I was writing that fic. Every time I write it, the tone and voice just sounds so different from the first 12 chapters. Anyway, I'll figure it out. Eventually. Meanwhile, here's a little prologue of something I had in mind for a while. [The woman in the mirror] is a working title because I still don't even know if this thing is worth writing a whole fic for.