The Most Impossible Soulbond

Forming The Bond

All Pansy had wanted to do was to sneak out with Draco and see what Potter and his sidekicks were – once again – up to, that would prompt Professor Snape to storm past them and out of the castle. Draco had been unable to resist his curiosity and, as stupid as she was, she went with him. Maybe he would have been impressed with her, after all? Surely he would have appreciated it? Or maybe –

"Draco?! Are you – shit!"

Stunned and disbelieving, Pansy stared at his retreating form as he scampered away, leaving her to her fate. She went to follow him, but a huge dog dashed past her, making her shriek and fall backwards. Her eyes sought out the animal and widened impossibly at Professor Lupin – common rabble, but at least a decent teacher, she had to admit – screaming as his body continued to reshape itself, bones and muscles shifting visibly in the full moon's light.

She stumbled away and quickly gathered herself up again, then began running somewhere, anywhere, just to get away from that – that creature.

A werewolf! A bloody werewolf! Our teacher is a bloody werewolf! Daddy will hear of this!

Tears of terror were stinging in her eyes and agonizing fear was clutching her heart. She just ran and ran, not a clue where she was even heading. Noises and voices were nothing but a cacophony in her ears, her surroundings impossible to make out. Pure and utter panic was dominating her very being.

She should have just headed to their common room. Nothing of this was worth anything at all. She was going to die, or worse, become a werewolf. For what? Draco's approval? Fat load of good that had done to her! He was probably safe and sound by now, back in the castle and she –

The dog whimpered in pain and she turned to see it being hurled through the air and land somewhere far from her.

Oh Merlin, please let that thing go somewhere else, pleasepleaseplease!

Skidding to a halt at the lake, a feeling of deep dread settled in her stomach and a chill washed over her. It was familiar because she had experienced it twice already – once in the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of their third year and once during that horrid quidditch match when Potter fainted.

Pansy glanced up at the sky and, true to her fears, a huge and dark cloud of Dementors were gliding silently straight towards her. How many were there? A hundred? A thousand? Either way, she dropped to her knees and clutched her head as if in agony. Resignation fought with defiance inside her.

"Help!" she screamed into the night, desperation taking over. "Someone! Please..." Tears were flowing freely from her eyes. Her own fear entangled with the Dementors' unnatural coldness affecting her caused Pansy to lose any sort of will she had left to fight before she was even really fighting.

She began to feel the overwhelming sense of dread as her saddest and most heartbreaking memories started to flood her mind.

Her pet kneazle dying of old age just before she started at Hogwarts.

Her twin sister touching that carved skull on their father's desk in his study when they were four years old. The following shrieks and sudden silence when she just collapsed, unmoving and unbreathing.

It was too much. It was too much and she fell face-first into the grass. This was how she was going to die – no, not die. Dementors did not kill. She would just waste away like a bloody vegetable.

She couldn't fight when the sensation of cold, wet and disgusting hands on her skin made her shiver. She couldn't fight when she was lifted off the ground and she couldn't fight when the endless abyss of a Dementor's mouth was in front of her. Pain inflamed deep inside of her, somewhere, everywhere. She could feel something straining, she could feel something begin to tear, an otherworldly sensation consuming her very being.