Take Me Away

Chapter Two

But under skinned knees and the skid marks

Past the places where you used to learn

You howl and listen
Listen and wait for the
Echoes of angels who won't return

~Vertical Horizon--Everything You Want

The pillow was too hard, the sheets too rough, and the bed too small. That was the first thought that floated into her mind as she drifted back to consciousness. Pansy slowly opened her eyes, drained of energy. She had been having a horrible nightmare and Pansy found that she was shaking. She blinked, focused her eyes fully, and gasped as she saw that she was in a room bathed in white.

Hospital white, she thought absently. I'm in an infirmary but--why--I mean--?

"Ah, Miss Parkinson, you're finally awake!" a cheerful, benevolent voice rang through the infirmary and Pansy narrowed her eyes at the familiar tone. "You have been asleep for nearly two days and we have been getting worried," Albus Dumbledore peered over his glasses with eyes that held a twinkle.

Oh, great, Pansy moaned to herself, only halfheartedly. Despite what Slytherins liked the school to think, many, at the very least, had a grudging respect for Dumbledore as a powerful wizard. After all¸ he had defeated the Dark Lord Grindelwald and Lord Voldemort feared him. Plus, he was a great improvement over that twit that had replaced him briefly last year. However, that did not mean that they would ever admit it. But that still didn't explain why she was at Hogwarts.

"Sir," she asked carefully, trying to put her thoughts into words. "Sir, what...what happened?" A sudden thought hit her and as much as Pansy tried to push it away, it stuck and Pansy was nearly hysterical.

"Ah, Miss Parkinson," Dumbledore sighed, all mirth gone now. "That is a long story and one I wish that I did not have to tell." Pansy squeezed her eyes shut to stop the hot tears that burned her eyes. Somewhere, she knew that it was true and that, no matter how much she tried to make it so, it hadn't been a nightmare. Memories flashed through her mind and she had to stop herself from allowing the tears to fall. Death Eaters, Voldemort, traitor, AVADA KEDAVRA, her parents dead, and her running, running from her family and the only life that she had ever known...

"Go on," she demanded hoarsely. "Tell me." No matter what she suspected, what she knew in her heart, Pansy still refused to believe without the facts. She was, after all, a Slytherin. No matter how much I wish otherwise, Pansy thought resentfully.

"Miss Parkinson...Pansy," Dumbledore hesitated still, unsure of whether he should tell her the bad news when the anger and grief and knowledge was very obvious in her dark eyes. Then he shook his head. She needed to understand because, as he had told Harry Potter in the last term of his fourth year year, understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery.

But I knew then that Harry could take it. Can she? Dumbledore wondered briefly. Pansy had been through so much, more than many wiser witches or wizards. She was hard and strong, cold as ice, yes. But ice was melted, it chipped and cracked and could be broken. Would Pansy break? Dumbledore looked at her with concern and sadness. He knew that, while hardly any would ever imagine, Pansy Parkinson was a very lonely child. Not even Draco Malfoy or Blaise Zabini seemed to be completely able to reach past her hard shell and make her happy, even for a short period of time. He managed to smile at Pansy but it was a smile of one who had seen much suffering and torment. Nonsense, Albus. Didn't you learn your lesson? You kept the prophecy a secret from Harry when you should have told him and look at how disastrous that turned out. The girl needs to know...and it's better that you don't lie to her.

"Professor?" Pansy said, irritation filling her aura, mixing in her eyes with dread. She forced herself to keep up her front and fought back the tears that threatened to break through. Well, if she had to be a Slytherin, she might as well use that to her advantage. Self-control. One of Pansy's only comforts in her life had been that no one could see her turmoil; she kept it so deep down. The old man kept on looking at her with glances that alternated between sadness, concern, hesitation, and trepidation.

"Ah, yes," he shook his thoughts away and steeled himself. "Miss Parkinson, two nights ago, startled Aurors at the Ministry were alerted by a Dark Mark hanging in the sky, indicating that a tragedy had taken place." He peered over his glasses that perched on his crooked nose, blue eyes serious for once. When Pansy made no response, Dumbledore continued gingerly. "They tracked it and Apparated to what used to be a large Manor in the country. They were distraught to find the devastation and ran to the nearby woodland to find two very well-known mages."

Used to be? Devastation? Pansy's sharp mind picked up on the phrases and knew, beyond a doubt, that she would not be going home for Christmas. Not that there would be anyone left to go home to, she thought sardonically.

"When they found you, my dear," Dumbledore was saying, "you had already been unconscious. You sustained much superficial injuries and bruises. Also, you had a nasty lump on your head from when I suspect that you collided with a low tree branch. But it was the fact that you would not awaken from Enervate that we were all concerned." Then he smiled but, even in her state of mourning, Pansy could tell it was fake, probably for her benefits.

"And my parents?" Pansy herself was surprised at the cool detachment that she managed to keep in her voice. It was the same icy tone that her mother had used to discipline the house elves whenever they were out of line or disobeyed. For a second, even Dumbledore looked so taken aback by her clipped intonation and blunt question that it took him a second to respond.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Parkinson, but the Aurors found their bodies and brought them back for burial. They died a noble death if what I heard was true," Dumbledore spoke slowly and with clarity, sadness in every word. "You may conduct the burial rites as you see fit."

"Hmmm..." Pansy murmured, her mind still replaying the mocking words, found their bodies and brought them back for burial. Then she snapped back to reality and Pansy turned her head to face the wall, trying to indicate that their conversation was over and she wanted to be left alone. After a few minutes, Dumbledore gave no sign of departure and Pansy broke the silence, thinking to herself with a tinge of impatience, Old man can't take a hint!

"Please leave me, sir." Dumbledore nodded, although he was sure that Pansy could not see him and rose to exit. "And sir?" He paused by the door and turned back around to look at the young woman with melancholy. "I wish to renounce my duties as a Prefect this year." Understanding, Dumbledore inclined his head once more and silently slipped out of the Hospital Wing.

As soon as the door closed, Pansy began to laugh. She buried her face into her pillow, giggling hysterically. Her laughter only grew and filled the infirmary, echoing. Pansy continued to laugh until she could laugh no more and finally gave in.

Her features were still obscure from the pillow and silence once more became prominent in the room; no sound was made by Pansy but her shoulders were shaking with dry racking sobs.

*~*~*

Harry stepped through the archway and stared down the streets of Diagon Alley, a light drizzle of rain falling down from clouds so gray they looked black. How fitting, he thought distractedly. The skies were as dark as his heart and his mind. Even now, he could not be happy, though he was finally out of that horrid house on Privet Drive. Last year, he had gotten such joy from his first real taste of the wizarding world all summer and Diagon Alley held many fond memories. But now, the memories were tainted. He was tainted.

"Oh, Harry!!!"

Harry jumped, whirling around when his name was called from somewhere, immediately defensive until he realized that the voices belonged to his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, along with Ron's little sister, Ginny, and, trailing behind them, Luna Lovegood, a Ravenclaw, and Neville Longbottom, another close friend who had been there when...Don't think about it, Potter, he ordered himself. Hermione and Ron were beaming at him and Harry forced himself to smile back. It felt unfamiliar on his features; he hadn't smiled all summer and didn't particularly feel like smiling ever again.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said again, frowning with worry now. "Oh, Harry, you look awful."

"Thanks, Mione," he rolled his eyes. Sarcasm he could still manage. "That does wonders for my ego."

"I'm sorry," she blushed, realizing her mistake. "It's just that you look..."

"Haunted," Ginny broke in. Harry turned to see her and saw that she looked haunted as well. Dark circles marred her complexion, a complexion that was paler even than Malfoy's and nearly translucent and her once lively brown eyes were sunken and filled with fear. It was obvious that she hadn't been eating much; her cheekbones were prominent and her robes hung loosely around her.

There was a pause and then Ron spoke. "She's right; you do--but you could have said it a little more tactfully," he joked but it was obvious that he was concerned for his best friend. She just shrugged and kept her mouth shut.

Neville, Ron, and Hermione tried to keep a conversation alive but both Harry and Ginny didn't say much, both so lost in their own thoughts and Luna just opened a copy of The Quibbler, her father's magazine. Harry spotted a Daily Prophet and asked something that had been on his mind a lot over the summer.

"What's been going on in the wizarding world?" he spoke, interrupting Hermione's energetic tale of her trip to Italy. It was obvious the real question that he was asking: did Voldemort attack anyone? Silence followed and Harry thought that Hermione was just going to start back up in her fake, cheery pitch. He was surprised when he got his answer but it was a reluctant one.

"A lot," Hermione sighed after a length pause. "There've been escapes you know. Almost all of the Death Eaters from Azkaban that were imprisoned last year are gone. Malfoy and that lot. And yes. I know what you're thinking, Harry. It was mostly Muggles. My--my friend from down the street, Diana Silver, was killed." She sniffled, obviously still grieving. "That was in July. Other Muggles too, all over Europe. But there have been no wizarding families killed yet."

"That's not true," Ron lowered his voice to a secretive tone that barely hid his obvious glee at knowing something that Hermione didn't and, perhaps, something else. "Parkinson's parents were killed. Night before last, right on their property; the manor was burnt to the ground! Most think that Aurors killed them 'cause everyone knows that they're just as much a family of Death Eaters as the Malfoys. Probably the Aurors broke up a Death Eater meeting and they got into a duel or something."

"Really? I didn't know that they were victims," Hermione said, stunned. "I mean, Voldemort would hardly murder two of his most loyal followers." Harry stayed quiet. Two nights ago? That had been when he had managed to feel that...that...whatever it was. Emotions and something else. He could still remember the hurt and the betrayed feeling.

Could he have been feeling the emotions of the Parkinsons?

"Where on their property?" Harry asked suddenly.

"What?" Ron looked surprised. "I don't know...in the woodlands, I think. Why?"

"No reason," he muttered, recalling the sensation that he had experienced: the bark brushing his fingertips, the wind stinging his eyes, and the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He shook his head to clear his mind and decided to inquire one more thing. "Did--did Pansy Parkinson survive?"

"Yeah," Ron looked deflated for a moment. "Pity."

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, shocked and enraged that their best friend could say something so callous. Neville also looked surprised but not outraged. He shot Ron a sympathetic, supportive look. Luna just hummed dreamily, reading The Quibbler upside down as they walked. "Don't say that!"

"What?" Ron said defiantly. "What's great loss would she have been to the world?" The group of friends stopped in front of Eeylops Owl Emporium and stared at each other before Harry decided to break the silence.

"That's cruel, Ron," Harry said quietly. He could understand where Ron was going; after all, he had been raised to believe that the Malfoys, the Parkinsons, and all of them were Death Eaters. And Death Eaters were better off in Azkaban or dead than let off the hook to kill. But Ron hadn't felt what he had felt that night: the shock, anguish, and the guilt that had been transferred to Harry. Plus, Harry felt responsible for the death of Parkinson's family and he pitied the poor girl.

Flicking his eyes back and forth between the three best friends, Neville looked like he was deciding to leave and pulled Luna and Ginny along with him, muttering something about Flourish and Blotts.

"Sorry, Harry," Ron apologized flippantly. "But you've got to admit that Pansy Parkinson would have become a Death Eater and grown up to help the Dark Lord and really, who needs more of them?"

"Who indeed?" a cold voice cut in. The trio looked up to find themselves staring into the steely gaze of Draco Malfoy. "A girl loses her family and you wish that she had gone with them?" he drawled, sounding amused but Harry could see from where he stood that Malfoy was shaking with fury. "Why, Weasel, I am surprised. And a Gryffindor who is supposed to be gallant...Of course, with Potter here to be noble, who needs you?"

"Leave them, Draco," a figure stepped up to his side, glaring. "They're not worth it." Ron, Hermione, and Harry found themselves pierced by another relentless gaze and hatred that filled the glinting amethyst eyes of another Slytherin and fellow sixth-year, Blaise Zabini.

"Too right, Blaise," Malfoy sneered. "See you at school, Potter. Weasel." A malevolent grin stretched across his face when he acknowledged Hermione. "Mudblood." Ron leapt forward but Hermione and Harry held him back and Malfoy sauntered away, Zabini close behind.

"I hate them," Ron seethed. "They'll get it for calling you Mudblood, Mione."

"They love it when you react, Ron," Hermione sighed. "And that was mean of you to say those things about Pansy. Honestly, I feel sorry for her."

"Why? She would've laughed if it had been you in her place," Ron grumbled.

"So we'll be better than her," Hermione countered gently, taking his hand in hers. "Ron, I'm not saying to be her best friend but at least be nice. The girl just lost her family and her home."

"Oh, all right," Ron muttered. "I'm sorry, Mione." He looked at her tenderly. "But I hate it when they call you that filthy name." He seemed to suddenly realize that she was still holding his hand and he blushed. Hermione also turned red and dropped it like it was a spider.

Harry watched this exchange in silence and despondence. He felt happy for his two best friends but he couldn't help but doubt that anyone would ever look at him like Hermione looked at Ron. The disastrous brief relationship that he had shared with Cho Change rose in his mind before he dismissed it. Cho had been a mistake. He couldn't see what he had liked about her in the first place, besides the fact that she was pretty and she liked Quidditch. And then he wondered if he would ever find a girl who would be different. Who would be more than just a pretty, Quidditch playing female who cried at the drop of the hat.

Probably not, he figured. Face it, Potter; there is no one in the world for you. You are destined to be either a corpse or a murderer before you hit the age of twenty and really, who needs that? He looked at Hermione and Ron again and sighed. Still, he could wish.

Hermione and Ron were chatting again but Harry tuned him out and tipped his face to look at the overcast sky again, feeling as guilty as ever.

*~*~*

Pansy sorted through the school supplies that Professor Snape had purchased for her in Diagon Alley idly and without care. She tossed books into her trunk and paused as came across a rolled up newspaper. Pansy pulled off the band that held the paper and let it unroll. A few pieces of parchment fluttered to the ground and Pansy picked them up and quickly scanned over the first note from Professor Snape. It simply stated that an owl had come from Draco Malfoy and he had put it with her school supplies. Then, Pansy raised Draco's letter with a shaking hand, staring blankly at the sure, elegant writing that addressed it to her. She didn't know what to think. Pansy knew that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater, recently escaped from Azkaban, and she was also aware of the fact that he could fake writing and curse letters. How many times had she and Blaise fussed over Draco's pale hands that had been burnt from a hexed letter from his father? Did Pansy dare read it?

She looked more closely at it, relaxing instantly when she noticed the seal that Draco had drawn in the corner. It was the one that Pansy and Blaise and pestered him into drawing, something that Draco did very well. He had and now, they put it on all of their letters to let the reader know that it was from them and no one else. The seal had on it a pale dragon surrounded by flames with a blooming flower on the top. It was, although they never said so, a symbol of their friendship and a silent pact in defiance against the Dark.

Shaking such thoughts away, Pansy unfolded the stiff parchment and ran her eyes over the long strokes that Draco had made in his usual emerald green ink.

Pansy,

Heard about your parents from the Daily Prophet. I'm sorry. Father returned in such a state that no one asked questions, least of all me. He didn't tell me anything about it, though he hinted about getting back at a traitor. I assumed that he was talking about Snape and that is the reason I said nothing about it before. I regret that decision now.

Are you all right? Blaise and I have been worrying about you, especially since we heard that you had been unconscious for two days! The Daily Prophet said that you were in good health but we didn't know what to believe. Why didn't they contact us? If it had been one of the Dream Team, the other two would have been notified immediately.

Speaking of, Blaise and I were in Diagon Alley yesterday and we had a little run in with them by Eeylops. Don't worry about us. We're fine. Never got around to hexing or fighting really. We only traded insults. The Weasel was being disrespectful and we had to defend your honor (plus, why pass a chance to provoke him; it is fun to make him mad--easy too).

Get better, Pans, and owl back quick!

Draco

P.S. Blaise has attached a note. Don't know why she can't get her own bloody owl...

P.P.S. Sent you the Daily Prophet as well. Thought that you might want to get in touch with civilization again, especially after being cut off from the world at that blasted school.

Pansy tossed Draco's letter aside with a sad smile. She could almost hear his disdainful drawl over every word. But even his remark about the Dream Team couldn't cheer her up. She wondered how she would be when they arrived back at school as she opened up Blaise's quickly scrawled letter.

Pansy,

I don't doubt that you heard enough of this from Draco so I'll make this brief, especially as he is at the moment threatening me to "get a move on" or he'll slit my throat. That's Draco for you.

Are you doing okay? You better not be blaming yourself over this like Draco has been. I swear, all I ever hear is, "I should've said something," and I'm going to go insane! It is not your fault, all right? Be careful though, Pansy. I don't want a dead best friend. And (I can't believe I'm saying this) listen to the teachers for now. We don't want you to go wandering around and get yourself killed, losing lots of points and the House Cup for us in the meantime.

Cheer up, Pansy. Everything will turn out in the end. I'll see you at school.

Blaise

P.S. I do not have a bloody owl because I already have a familiar and a damn smart one at that.

P.P.S. And why did you quit your Prefect duties? Snape sent me an owl and I was informed that I was the new Slytherin Prefect! I don't blame you and I can even sort of understand it, but Pansy, me? I mean, I spent five years making sure that I wouldn't make Prefect and now this. Honestly, five years of careful rule breaking and slacking off for nothing. I'm not mad at you. Just at Snape and Dumbledore. Why me? Why not...well...okay, I can't really think of anyone else who they would pick but I'm still not happy with it...ah well. This year, we'll just be able to really abuse the privileges, right, Pans?

Pansy sighed and pointed her wand at the two letters. "Ignito," she murmured and they were both set aflame, burning into ashes in midair. Even Draco and Blaise didn't understand. They were certainly concerned but they did not have to see their parents die in front of their eyes or hear their screams as they were killed.

Leafing idly through the Daily Prophet, she paused at an article written about the death of her parents and paled slightly; reading the details in print made it all seem so real.

Prominent Wizarding Family Found Dead in Forest

Since the acknowledgement of the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the murders of Muggles all over Europe has been the most commonly known news. The gossip is buzzing around the wizarding community all summer, making it a summer of unease and unwanted memories of the Reign of Terror. Along with the second outbreak of recently imprisoned Death Eaters, the latest deaths have followed the same slow attack that the Dark Lord used during his first time in power. On August 25, Aurors discovered that yet another murder had taken place.

Polaris and Larissa Parkinson were found dead in the woodland surrounding the once-stately manor with the Dark Mark of You-Know-Who hovering over the ruins like a harbinger of death. The details of their deaths are being withheld at the moment.

"We cannot reveal the cause of death at the moment; it needs to be examined more. But we give our deepest sympathies to their young daughter," Chief Auror, Laurie Riley says of the tragic murder of the Parkinsons.

The Parkinsons are survived by their sixteen-year-old daughter, Pansy, who is entering her sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and is in the Slytherin House. Pansy was also in the forest at the time and was found unconscious but seems to have sustained no major damage. She is currently staying at Hogwarts where her professors have assured that she is in good health.

"Miss Parkinson is fine," Head of Slytherin House, Professor Severus Snape reported briefly. "She is awake and, other than some scrapes and bruises, she does not have any lasting damage and should be fine for the start of school."

Our condolences are given to the young Parkinson and heir to the Parkinson fortune that she will receive upon her twenty-first birthday.

Pansy sat in the infirmary as the sun began to set and darkness began to creep over the lands, frozen with a grief that she felt was choking her. She had managed to ignore it when she didn't have to face it. That was why she avoided sleep. Had since she woke up. Madam Pomfrey was concerned about her insomnia and Pansy had gotten into quite a few arguments about it. She didn't even look like she had five days ago. Five days since her world had fallen apart.

"I wish I were dead," Pansy whispered into the empty infirmary, clutching the sheets. "I wish I didn't exist in this hellish world. I want...I want..." Her voice cracked. "I want to die. I want to die. Oh God..."

She fought back more tears as she drew her blankets close around her and bit back a scream. Her sobs echoed in the emptiness, Madam Pomfrey long gone to find dinner for her. Pansy doubled over her sheets, her vision blurring and her cheeks smarting. The tears that slid down her face and onto the bed were icy and hot at the same time and the bitingly cold fire followed her into oblivion.

A/N: Aw...Pansy's gone a little crazy, hasn't she? Please review and tell me what you thought!

Next Chapter: It's September 1^st and everyone's back at Hogwarts. But can Harry handle the pressure of being at Hogwarts again, where everyone knows him and stares follow him, whispers trailing his every move? And will Pansy be able to pull herself together in time for the Welcome Feast and meeting her two best friends? All will be revealed...in the next chapter!