STARDUST

CHAPTER ONE

The subway train moves through the night like a snake slithering across a vast land. The quivering, mechanic buzz of the engine sounds like a hum from some distant edge. Sitting inside a mostly empty compartment, Pansy Parkinson feels as if she’s being swallowed whole by the replitilan nightmare. Her thoughts crumble around like biscuits until she only feels its low, soothing hum.

She feels calm enough to almost fall asleep. 

But tiredness keeps her awake. Her hands ache, from the shoulder joint up to her fingers she can feel the dull pain of Doxie venom. The pain working in rhythm with slow bouts suddenly at a high.

She shivers a little and coils in her seat. It’s colder than she predicted before walking out of St. Mungo’s. Out of the corner of her eyes, she can see the muggle couple dozing silently. She wonders if they are asleep enough so she could take out her wand and put a warming charm on her clothes.

The train moves swiftly, impassive to her trouble. After a few moments of careful contemplation, Pansy watches the train coming to a stop. She huffs in relief when the sleeping couple stir up. They giggle between themselves as they get up, giving an embarrassed smile in Pansy’s direction when they find her looking. She smiles in return. 

She’s almost certain they’re newly in love, smiling privately at the awkwardness of their holding hands, at the unsteady, uncertain rhythm they have as they walk to the door. 

Pansy has her hand on the back of her wand, nestled in one of the many pockets of her jumper, as the door slides open, subconsciously repeating the words of the charm. She takes it out halfway as the boy and the girl fumble out of the door. 

But then. Then someone else comes in, eyeing the couple as well. Pansy is so shocked to see this face, this very familiar face that her hand instinctively relaxes from the handle. Her wand falls from under her jacket, making a piercing, clattering sound in the silent compartment.

His eyes dart away from the couple at once and now he notices her. His eyes are wide with wonder for a second before Pansy looks away, her cheeks blazing, and hastily picks up her wand. She hears the soft sound of the doors sliding to close. Sees him taking the seat where the couple sat before from the corner of her eye.

Harry Potter.

Not that she doesn’t see him usually. Even if she counts out the times his shiny, victorious face peers out from the Daily Prophet; as an auror trainee, he certainly has his share of visits to St. Mungo’s. More than his share, she could say. And even though she doesn’t work in the general ward, she sees him, coming and going. 

But he isn’t supposed to be here. At midnight. In the subway. At muggle London wearing muggle clothes.

So isn’t she.

She wishes she wore better clothes.

It is a silly thought, but it’s true. She doesn’t care, not really, what her old classmate would think of her, she just wishes she would look a little more put together. Just because.

Maybe it’s part of the old Pansy Parkinson ghosting in her head, but she doesn’t let that train of thoughts to run. She straightens her green, woolen jumper, casts a warming charm over her clothes - the leather skirt and her top, and sits more straight.

The train has begun to move swiftly again.

The soothing hum sounds foreboding now. She can’t help the beads of sweat forming on her hairline. She feels an uneasy pull at the back of her neck, she wonders if she is being paranoid for no reason or is he really staring? She wants to glance back and see if he is… but if he wasn’t then she would just make this awkward.