don't bring flowers.

chapter 6.

"You have got to be kidding me." Pansy sighed in exasperation and rubbed her temples as her head throbbed. She looked from Odette Childe to a fresh copy of the Daily Prophet sat closed on the bench beside her. Today was a Thursday, two days since her atrocious exit from her date with Roger. "You honestly think that?" She couldn't quite believe what had spewed from the woman's mouth. In fact, she repeated it aloud herself just to process the words. "You say that Draco Malfoy wanted to become a death eater to take revenge on the Games Keeper because he got attacked by a hippogriff in his third year?" She shook her head violently to prevent unwanted laughter. "That's a joke, right?"

Odette reddened in embarrassment. "No," she straightened the collar of her jacket, "That's not what I was saying. I was insinuating the possibility. After all, that hippogriff was sentenced to death after that incident." Pansy remembered the day perfectly, so certainly didn't need any recap from her. "Could it be possible though, Miss Parkinson? You refused to answer the question directly."

Basically, they were running out of leads and ways to connect Draco's earlier life to his alliances. Pansy knew the truth; they were just too stupid to ask the proper questions. "Definitely not." She knew that aggravated her by how she ruffled through the papers in front of her. She crossed her right leg over the left, waiting for Odette to respond. "Is there anything else you need from me today?"

"Yes." Odette spoke sharply, in a don't-you-dare-think-about-moving way. Pansy recoiled a little, a small grumble escaping her lips. "What did you do, Miss Parkinson, after said event?" The magical quill sat perched against a piece of parchment, ready for the words to fall out of Pansy's lips.

As with the majority of questions asked at the inquiry, Pansy couldn't understand the relevance. "I stayed in the Hospital Wing of school, watching over my injured friend." She didn't see the point in saying anything further.

"Witnesses reported you screaming and shouting at them beforehand." Odette stated, feeling better for having more information at hand.

"Well, of course I screamed. I was scared for the safety of someone I cared about a great deal." She played with her hands, comfortable but relatively bored. "As for the shouting," that she remembered better. Frightened and insecure were emotions she chose to discard from her memory, but evil behaviour towards others wasn't erased. "People weren't hiding the fact they were pleased about his injuries. I felt repulsed. I also had a duty to defend the honour of other people in my house." Her new strategy was to keep away from the romantic side of their relationship, until it was properly addressed.

"Very well then." Odette replied dismally, before she was given a message via whisper from the security guard seated to her left. "Miss Parkinson, I'm afraid we've ran out of time." The light returned to Pansy's eyes. She crept forward in her chair and waited for the direct release. Odette noticed and said quickly, "You may leave."

She darted out of the room without a second thought. Glad to be trouble free for the rest of her day, Pansy didn't even grumble when Ginny Weasley appeared in front of her. Still, it was to be expected. "Ginny." Acknowledging her was the politest thing to do. When the redhead smiled in return, Pansy felt anger brew deep within her. Ginny was a catalyst to Pansy's built up anger surfacing. "I'll be leaving now."

Either the girl had forgotten Pansy's warning of her not speaking to her again, or she chose to ignore it. Pansy settled on the latter. "How was your inquiry today, Pansy?" The brunette shrugged her shoulders, purposefully being arrogant and lazy in her response. "I take it you still don't wish to talk to me then." Ginny stood still, evidently having not a single chip on her shoulder. Perhaps growing up with lots of boys taught Ginny to keep strong.

In some ways, that thought made Pansy a little guilty. She opened her mouth to respond properly but quickly became unfocused. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a glimpse of white walk down a corridor ahead of them. "I have to go, Ginny." She said mid pushing past her, gaze directed to the spot where she saw something peculiar. In muggle terms, she became Alice following the White Rabbit.

She pushed past a few Ministry workers, skidded on a small puddle then chased the blonde hair down a horizontal corridor. Shouting out seemed a little too farfetched. Then why was she running so manically in the first place? Everything started to become a blur. He entered the closest lift but she was too late to get in with him. She screamed in fury and leapt into another before it closed. Straight afterwards, it became apparent that she didn't know what floor to go to. Distraught, she pushed her way to the back of the elevator and tried to catch her breath.

Everyone started to get off on designated floors. Pansy stuck with the majority of the crowd and got off on the main floor and entrance/exit of the Ministry. She sprinted through the masses of people flooding in and out, trying to find somewhere to go. That's when she spotted the hair again. "Draco!" She shouted, convinced it was him. How many people had that signature colour? Not many. "Excuse me, excuse me!" The people clustered around her, making it more difficult to weave through them.

Said man eventually lined up to the floo, ready to leave. Pansy was mere inches away. If it was him, she could grab onto him and sort it all out. If it wasn't, well, she was screwed.

He stepped in the flames. She reached out and took hold of the sleeve of his jacket. Seconds later, Pansy and the man were spiralling out of the flames and towards his destination. Even with distorted faces and warped bodies, she could tell instantly that he wasn't the boy she had been hoping for. He lifted out an arm, swung, and then hit her straight in the jaw. Clearly he was going somewhere that he didn't want a stranger to see. She couldn't function in the gravity-less space, so had to take the punch. And the next one. Her mind still worked fine. She thought about home just as he extended his arms to strangle her. Another struggle took place, including a harsh squeeze to her throat, before Pansy dropped down on the porch of her house. Splinched.

The lower half of her left leg did not find its way home. She lifted her head an inch to inspect the damage, and saw nothing below her knee other than blood spilling out of the open wound. When she tried to put her head back down, she smacked it against the concrete beneath her, leaving her even dizzier and disorientated. She opened her mouth to form a scream but from where the man tried to choke her, her throat was bruised and vocal chords unresponsive.

Blood still poured out, travelling down the steps. She tried to move but only managed to cover her other leg with the scarlet liquid. Breathing felt easy to do, so she focused on that for a while. Her surroundings became a pain fuelled blur, ringing took place in her ears. Sharp sensations shot up from her mangled leg and into her torso. It was like a thousand burning needles were jabbed in at the same time, shooting up and down her body. Flop sweat burst out of her and a wave of nausea hit her. She knew that keeping awake would help her, that she would get through it. Still the torment raged on. Essence of Dittany was kept in the bathroom cabinet, which would certainly help. She tried to push herself up onto her elbows but crumbled under her own weight and fell again.

She then had a moment of clarity. Through the pain, she seemed to lose the will to carry on. Why should she try and get up? What would that achieve? If she died there and then on her front porch, all the misery would be over. Nobody was home so she wouldn't be found until after it was over. Surely blood loss would be the culprit if she managed to receive the sanctity of death. Soreness on the exterior physically brought out the aches and pains deep within her heart. He wasn't coming back for her. Living seemed useless. She closed her eyes, quickly losing consciousness.