Rating:
PG-13
House:
The Dark Arts
Ships:
Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson
Characters:
Pansy Parkinson
Genres:
Angst Romance
Era:
Harry and Classmates Post-Hogwarts
Stats:
Published: 01/29/2006
Updated: 01/29/2006
Words: 854
Chapters: 1
Hits: 491

Shadow of Your Former 'Self

ten_oclock

Story Summary:
She'd made the biggest mistake of her life marrying him. He'd now taken over her life. She'd become nothing. Merely a shadow of her former 'self.

Chapter 01

Posted:
01/29/2006
Hits:
491


Shadow of your former 'self

Tears ran down her face, and fell on the floor with a splash. The silence of the night was broken by her tears as they landed on the floor.

Her hand reached for the door, and then stopped in mid air. She wondered whether to push the door just to make sure that he had actually locked it; it was almost certain that he would have. What would she do though, if it wasn't locked? Could she just push the door open, go upstairs and get into bed? Act like nothing had happened. Act like he did every morning? Act like life was great, that their marriage was a normal one and that everything was wonderful? No, she couldn't.

Her hand fell back to her side, the tips of her fingers brushing against the dusty floor. She brought her hand up to her face, close. She was suddenly aware of the surrounding darkness, thick, like a blanket, but not warm. The cold seeped through her threadbare nightie, she picked at the slowly unraveling hem.

Imagine if they could all se me now, she thought, laughing bitterly to herself. I'd done so well, made a good marriage, and everyone had been so proud of me. Look at me now. Face swollen with tears, and body covered in bruises. Soul covered in bruises too, they were just harder to see.

She usually managed so well, managed to uphold the name. But when she did slip up it was...she shuddered at the thought of it. It was far from pleasant.

It was all her fault. She knew that. That they didn't have children. That his parents were dead. That his name was mud. Ironic that the name he had called so many now applied to his own name.

He argued that their name only counted for nothing amongst people of no worth. The Ministry, the Mudbloods, half bloods, and blood traitors. Those who had defeated them. Reduced them to this state. It wasn't worth thinking about. In fact she tried to avoid thinking about it as much as possible. It was easier.

We don't do what's easy. His voice rang through her ears. We do what's right. "Right?" That was laughable in itself. We do what's right for us. That's the only thing that matters. She knew that now. It had been beaten into her. Literally.

She knew that in the morning he would act like nothing had happened, or would he? Maybe he wouldn't, maybe in the morning everything would be fine. No act, nothing like that. He'd love her. She realized she was dreaming; it would be a cold day in hell before that happened. She thought about the saying. Hell seemed like the perfect holiday destination right now.

Her soul had been broken. She knew that she had made the biggest mistake of her life marrying him. She thought it would be the best thing she would ever do. How wrong can you be? She had been so young. So naïve. Now only two years later she'd aged so much. Yet with this age came no wisdom, no maturity.

She'd become like a young child again. Wandering from room to room in this cold empty house, a shadow of her old 'self. She'd always been popular in her house, liked by her friends, and vivacious. Now the life had seeped out of her, like some magical being had sucked out her personality. Leaving her empty.

She couldn't make any decisions without someone's help. But what decisions were there to make? Everything was planned out for her. She merely had to follow the instruction pinned up weekly by her mirror. The slant of his handwriting had become so familiar to her now. The only bit of him she felt she really knew. She'd spend hours tracing the curves of the "R's" and the flicks in his "Y's" with her eyes.

She realized what she'd married now. Something cold, evil even. It wasn't what she had expected; she'd expected him to be her sweetheart. When they were younger he had been so, well not nice, but charming. Always complimenting her and giving her gifts. You are beautiful, he would breathe in her ear, as they danced, surrounded by other couples. Each girl wishing that they could be dancing with a guy as handsome as him.

That confident smile. How much it had attracted him to her. It had drawn her in, she was powerless against it. She hated it now. No longer a confident grin, but a smirk. It made her stomach turn, as each time it came she was reminded of his new character. She supposed it wasn't really a new character; he'd always been like that really. She just hadn't been able to see it. He just hadn't shown it to her.

How long could she stay there before she froze to death, she wondered. Would he notice? Would he even care? A fresh tear dribbled down her already tearstained face as she realised that there was no one to save her. That no one realised she needed saving.