They Withered All - a gift for chokolattejedi!
Title: They Withered All
Author/Artist: writcraft
Recipient: chokolattejedi
Pairing(s): Ginny Weasley/Pansy Parkinson, Harry Potter, Arthur Weasley
Word Count: ~5,700
Medium: Gimp 2.10, ink, sketch
Rating: R
Warnings: Horror, Major Character Death
Summary: Pansy and Ginny have never been friends, but after Hogwarts they find themselves in the same places, with a similar group of friends. One evening when Pansy comes to her for help, Ginny becomes more embroiled in Pansy's life than she ever thought possible.
Author's Notes: I had a lot of fun with both the fic and art for this piece. Thank you so much to the ever patient moderator. I really enjoyed creating this for you, chokolattejedi and I do hope it ticks your boxes. Thank you so much to M for alpha reading and cheerleading, and to A for beta reading. The quote at the start and the title are taken from Hamlet.
"Tis now the very witching time of night, when churchyards
yawn and hell itself breathes out contagion to this world.
Now I could drink hot blood and do such bitter business
as the day would quake to look upon."
"I think I'm being followed." Pansy Parkinson sits next to Ginny as if they are old friends and offers her something pink and toxic looking. "Drink?"
"No. Thanks." Ginny looks at the drink warily and lifts her bottled beer. "I'm fine."
"Beer?" Pansy sneers and then her features smooth. "Beer makes you fat."
"Is that right?" Ginny arches an eyebrow and Pansy waves her hand dismissively.
"Not that you need to worry with all of the Quidditch you play. You have the figure of a fifteen year old boy."
"Do you always have to be such a bitch?" Ginny snorts and finishes her beer.
"It's a compliment." Pansy stops Ginny from leaving by placing a hand on her arm. "Didn't you hear what I said when I sat down?"
"I heard, I just didn't particularly care." Ginny wonders what on earth she's doing in this too-loud, too-bright club, spending time with people who seem to think Pansy Parkinson is a good sort. Ginny always finds herself here when Quidditch season finishes, and every time she leaves wondering why she bothered coming in the first place.
"Well that's not very nice." Pansy glares at her drink and stirs it with her straw. "Lavender said you could help."
"She did?" Ginny tries not to let her surprise show and shrugs. "I'm not sure how."
"She thinks you're braver than most." Pansy turns to Ginny and cocks her head to the side. "Is it true that you're queer?"
"It's really none of your business." Ginny grits her teeth because the way Pansy says the word queer sounds like an insult. "I know I couldn't give two hoots about who you sleep with."
"So it is true." Pansy's shriek of laughter grates on Ginny's nerves and she looks for the best way of extricating herself from the conversation. "I remember the days when you and Potter were love's young dream. Lavender suggested I talk to him first, but he's otherwise engaged."
"I noticed." Ginny watches Harry dance - badly - looking like he no longer has a care in the world. She still feels a rush of affection for him when she sees him like this, happy and free from troubles. "Don't bother him with this, whatever this is. I'll help if I can." Ginny takes the decision to listen to Pansy, largely so Harry doesn't have to and settles back in her seat with a huff of resignation.
"You will?" Pansy looks relieved and sips her drink.
"I have nothing better to do." Ginny gestures for another beer and listens, as Pansy begins to talk.
* * *
Ginny steps outside the club and shivers under the cool breeze, half expecting to see somebody lurking in the shadows.
There is nothing.
The street is quiet and still, and the only sound Ginny can hear is the heavy rainfall and the whisper of the wind. She Apparates to her Muggle flat, deep in the heart of London's West End and relishes the sounds of people laughing and talking on the streets outside. She flicks on the lights and the television to try to drown out her thoughts, thinking not for the first time that Muggle properties have their distinct advantages.
I think I'm being followed.
Ginny can't put her finger on it, but something feels off. Pansy's insistent chatter has left her unsettled and she watches the fire flicker and flame, causing shadows to rise and fall over the walls.
Pansy seemed so certain. She had talked of strange things happening in her home - of items misplaced and shuffled around while she slept. Whenever she walked anywhere alone, she told Ginny she could have sworn she heard more than one set of footfall.
The window creaks and something in the kitchen clatters to the floor, startling Ginny from her thoughts. She opens the door to see a recently washed pan on the floor, having fallen from being carelessly placed on the washboard from a hasty breakfast. Ginny picks up the pan and shoves it into a nearby cupboard. She checks the windows and double-checks the doors.
That night, she sleeps with the lights blazing.
* * *
"Somebody did something to my flowers."
"Come in, please." Ginny responds with more than a hint of sarcasm.
"I intend to." Pansy pushes her way past Ginny into the flat and pulls off her gloves. Ginny can't remember the last time she saw Pansy in the pinks and floral she used to favour - now Pansy dresses in sharp tailored lines and expensive vintage.
"Why are you here?" Ginny locks the door securely behind them and guides Pansy into the living room.
"Because you said you'd help and something else has happened." Pansy settles and reaches for the wine Ginny had left out for the evening. "May I?"
"Why not?" Ginny rolls her eyes and raises her glass to Pansy. It's probably not a bad idea to turn to the booze if Pansy plans to stay.
"I always have flowers in the living room. Roses, in a glass bowl." Pansy moves her hands as if to show Ginny how precisely the bowl is shaped. "They were fresh this morning. I went about my usual business and changed for the evening. I came back down and they had withered completely. The flowers were brown and the petals had fallen off the stems."
"Perhaps you have ghosts that don't like your interior design?" Ginny chuckles and stops when Pansy glares.
"I knew I should have spoken to Harry - he's a proper hero and you're not taking me seriously at all."
"You're in my home, drinking my wine and considering the way you've behaved towards me in the past, I'd say you should be grateful I'm listening at all. Don't you think it's possible you're imagining things?"
"I suppose if you're going to be like that I shall have to tell you everything." Pansy looks put out and drums her fingers on her knee. "It's more than just things going bump in the night, you see. It's like there's something clawing at the walls, and there's always something just there - to the side of me, behind me, in the shadows which move in the corner of my eye."
"Even now?" Ginny looks around the room but it's peaceful and still.
"Yes." Pansy shivers. "Even now."
* * *
"You're not the only one who likes other women, you know."
"No?" Ginny wonders if Pansy has had too much wine, but the bottle's only half empty and the night is still young. "Funny, it sounded as though you thought the idea of being queer was hilarious - or distasteful."
"Well I'm not thrilled about it." Pansy huffs and folds her arms. "It's damned inconvenient, given I could have been a Malfoy if I had been better able to tolerate having sex with Draco."
"From what I hear it sounds like it might have been a struggle for him too." Ginny laughs and tops up their wine. "I've never seen you out and about with anyone. Since Malfoy, that is."
"I don't tend to put myself on display." Pansy arches her eyebrow at Ginny. "Unlike some."
"You're such a cow." Ginny glares at Pansy. "A few kisses here and there is hardly putting myself on display."
"More than a few." Pansy laughs and the sound grates on Ginny's nerves.
"I don't really need advice from you on how I live my life, thanks."
"No need to get your knickers in a twist." Pansy feigns innocence and holds her hand up in a gesture of defence, before the colour leaves her cheeks. "Did you hear that?"
"No - you're imagining things." Ginny strains to hear any sound, but there's nothing.
"I'm not - just listen, would you?" Pansy pleads with Ginny and points upwards. "Footsteps."
"There's nothing - you're being ridiculous." Ginny sees how terrified Pansy looks and sighs, listening again. She's about to protest when she hears it. A steady thud, almost like footfall sounds above them. The stairs creak and the sound moves across the ceiling before stopping - still.
"There's somebody in the house."
"Nonsense - there's no one here. I've been in all day and I checked everything was locked after you scared the living daylights out of me the other night." Ginny stands and folds her arms. "I'm going to check what's going on."
"Don't leave me here by myself." Pansy stands, hurriedly.
"Come with me, then."
"I'd rather not." Pansy looks uncertain and her gaze flickers upstairs. "I don't want to."
"Then stay, I couldn't care less." Ginny shakes her head and makes her way upstairs, her irritation and impatience assuaging her fear for the moment.
"Ginny?"
Pansy's voice sounds far away now, desperate and uncertain.
"I'll just be a minute." The skin on the back of her neck prickles and the room is colder than usual. Ginny can hear the thudding sound again and she swings open the door to the bathroom. A window has become unlatched and it moves back and forth in the night air, hitting against the frames. "It's fine, Pansy. Just the window." Ginny laughs with relief and closes it tightly, ignoring the sense of unease which rises inside her when she thinks of the way she checked the windows - every window - earlier that evening.
"I'm not sure it's just the window…" Pansy's voice sounds small and higher than usual and Ginny moves downstairs to see Pansy clutching her hands together in her lap and starting at the corner of the room. "I sometimes hate how wizard portraits move. Someone could think all kinds of things."
Ginny looks at her painting of women tending to the fields of some far-flung climes and she swallows, looking back to Pansy.
"It's a Muggle painting. Nothing magical about it."
"I don't believe you." Pansy looks around and jumps in her seat as the slow thud sounds from upstairs again. "I told you it wasn't the window."
"It's obviously just coming loose - the latch is broken." Instead of going back upstairs, Ginny sits next to Pansy and feels a rush of sympathy. "Just have another glass of wine. I promise, these things can all be explained in the end."
"Can they?" Pansy looks uncertain and Ginny nods, firmly.
"We live in a world where magic exists. You have a wand, don't you? I don't think you can let a few shadows scare you like this."
"You're right." Pansy sits up straight and matches Ginny's nod with one of her own. "I'm sure it's all silliness."
The thudding sound ceases and the room warms. Ginny reaches for Pansy and squeezes her hand gently.
"Let's forget it."
"Yes." Pansy breathes in and exhales. "Let's."
* * *
"I wouldn't have thought you'd be the sort." A week after her first visit to Ginny's flat, Pansy opens Ginny's wardrobe as if the room is her own and fingers the black satin dress like she has been invited to hunt through Ginny's things.
"The sort to wear a dress? Look pretty?" Ginny resists the urge to swat Pansy around the head because she's bloody infuriating at times.
"You're attractive." Pansy looks like it pains her to say it and she eyes Ginny. "You're not really one for pretty dresses, though."
"Neither are you anymore." Ginny arches an eyebrow and nods at Pansy's outfit - another blouse with slim-fitting trousers. "I remember a time when you liked pink and frills."
"Don't." Pansy pulls a face and shudders. "Fashions change, as do people. I grew up a bit."
"You've changed a lot." As Ginny says it, she knows it's true. Although Pansy can drive her up the wall, it's clear the hard edges she used to have at school have softened somewhat and although Pansy speaks without thinking at times, she's far from the bully she used to be.
"Things happened." Pansy looks like she doesn't want to elaborate.
"Have I blabbed to anyone about the other stuff you told me?" Ginny raises her eyebrow and Pansy shakes her head.
"I suppose you have been discrete."
"Then maybe you should trust me."
"You could say I've trusted the wrong people in the past - at school, in particular. I told a group of friends' things about me and they didn't take it how I imagined." Pansy averts her eyes and looks at her nails, holding her hand in front of her and studying them.
"I don't know what you think I'm going to do." Ginny glares at Pansy, knowing an avoidance technique when she sees one.
"People haven't exactly been there for me over the last few years. I'm used to it." Pansy shrugs.
"Well you've been spending most of your time with me for the past few weeks, telling me all sorts of things, and I haven't gone anywhere." Ginny pushes again, wondering what on earth happened to Pansy which makes her so reluctant to talk.
"No. You haven't." Pansy acknowledges Ginny's words and finally meets her eyes. "As I said, I trusted people I shouldn't have trusted. They told me to meet them somewhere in the school that I hadn't been to before - it was always full of secrets, you probably remember?"
"Very well." Ginny thinks of the secret passages and the Room of Requirement and nods.
"They told me there was a magic cupboard in this room. I didn't want to get in it, but they promised me it was just a game. In the end, I had to because I didn't want to lose face. They locked the door behind me and left. I was there for hours before Madam Pomfrey found me." Pansy looks at her knuckles and winces, clenching her hands into fists.
"You tried to beat your way out?" Ginny swallows and touches Pansy's hand, sitting beside her.
"I suppose I did. I don't know what was in there because I never saw its face, but it scared me half to death. I wasn't alone. I know that much." Pansy shudders at the memory and shakes her head. "Pretty pink dresses seemed less important after that. I wanted to be stronger."
"What you wear has nothing to do with strength." Ginny brushes her hand on Pansy's arm. "But I do like the new look. I think you and I would clash if you dressed as you used to."
"Of course. Red." With a smile, Pansy reaches up and twines a little of Ginny's hair in her fingers. "If clothes don't matter to you, why do you wear things to make you feel more…masculine?"
"Blazers and trousers and things?" Ginny shrugs. "I'm more comfortable in them, I suppose. Maybe it's growing up with six brothers that did it."
"I was just curious." Pansy averts her gaze. "I like the idea of someone looking like that then being a woman underneath it all."
"For yourself?" Ginny contemplates Pansy again. Her sleek, tailored outfit is masculine to a point, but her whole appearance retains a sharp focus on femininity with deep red lips and long thick lashes. Pansy is - Ginny is reluctant to admit - bloody gorgeous.
"No, not for myself. I find it appealing on others. I like the way you look."
"You don't look half bad yourself." Ginny feels it's only right to return the compliment and enjoys the way Pansy flushes. "Why do you still say mean things?"
"And you don't, I suppose?" Pansy sneers and her hackles raise. Her eyebrows knit into a frown and she folds her arms. "Has it ever occurred to you that I need to protect myself sometimes? People aren't very kind to Slytherins now - particularly ones who told everyone to hand Potter over."
"It was a shitty thing to do," Ginny agrees. "But people change - I'm sure there's plenty who regret what they did during the war."
"Not you." Pansy's lips twist and she contemplates Ginny. "You chose the right side."
"I had the benefit of growing up around Harry. It made it easier to know his side was the right one." Ginny shrugs and nudges Pansy. "Let's not talk about the war. How have you been?"
"Better." Pansy smiles. "There haven't been half as many strange things going on. Sometimes I wake up and I'm sure there's somebody there - but I keep telling myself it's all stuff and nonsense, just like you suggested."
"I'm glad I could help." Ginny remembers the way she had felt on the night of Pansy's last visit and wonders if she should have been quite so dismissive. "Do you fancy going out for a while?"
"With you?" Pansy looks so surprised, Ginny can't help but laugh.
"That was the general idea."
* * *
The first time Ginny kisses Pansy, it feels right in a way other kisses simply haven't.
Ginny let Pansy choose her outfit in the end, knowing how things might end up between them and feeling the strangest desire to look her best. When Pansy's hand settles on her leg with a giggle, Ginny doesn't even try to resist.
They go to Pansy's place this time, and Pansy flicks her wand explaining through heated kisses there's no Muggle technology in her home. She mentions Ginny might need her wand in a way which sounds thoroughly filthy and Ginny can't help but push Pansy against the wall and kiss her more deeply, sliding her hands over every inch of Pansy's body. When Pansy grips Ginny's crotch and lets out a moan of desire, she leaves Ginny in no doubt about her interest and Ginny finds herself all too happy to oblige. She murmurs to Pansy about binding her and bringing her to a rough completion. She talks about toys attached to harnesses and suggests one evening Pansy should dress herself in fitted satin corsets and suspenders and allow Ginny to do all kinds of things to her.
"We'll do this again, then?"
"Oh, I think so." Ginny chuckles and kisses Pansy more firmly.
"You'll wear your tuxedo?"
"If you like." Ginny grins and tugs Pansy upstairs. "I'll want you to put on some sexy underwear for me. I like that."
"Then you'll like this." Pansy smiles and opens the door to her room.
They settle onto a bed of satin and silk, and kiss one another in a tangle of limbs, rolling around in the large bed. Their clothes slip back with whispers of magic to reveal skin in the most tantalising way. Their naked bodies couple together and move in the darkness; fingers slide, tongues flick and explore hot skin and intimate places, as their kisses become more urgent.
They gasp and sigh and arch towards one another, reaching completion. They move together and kiss again as the darkness covers them both and their bodies slip and slide over the satin.
In the morning, they wake with satiated smiles and soft kisses and it's a moment before either of them notice the chill air from the open window.
"It was closed." Pansy frowns and shuts the window tightly, locking the latch down and looking around the room with a shiver. "I'm positive it was closed. Do you remember?"
"I'm not sure. It might have been open, now I come to think of it."
"Really?" Pansy looks hopeful and Ginny beckons her back to bed.
"Really," Ginny lies.
* * *
"Pansy?"
Ginny blinks and looks around the room. She slides her hand along the smooth sheets but the other side of the bed feels cold and flat. She turns her head and sees a shadow move across the walls of the room. Muttering to herself about being far too old to be scared of the dark, Ginny reaches for her wand to cast a Lumos.
"Pretty little witching girl,
Had a head full of blonde curls."
"Where are you?" Ginny swallows as she hears the sing-song melody of a lullaby she remembers her mother singing during childhood. She keeps her wand clutched tightly in her hand and moves to where a sliver of light shows beneath the heavy wooden doorframe. "Pansy?"
"She's a perfect little witching girl,
The prettiest witch in all the world."
"What on earth are you doing?" Ginny opens the door and the creak makes Pansy look up. Her eyes are vacant and her expression fixes in a strange smile.
"Singing." Pansy clasps her hands in her lap and hums the melody again before tilting her head and looking at Ginny. "Don't worry. You should sleep."
"You must be freezing." Ginny shivers and closes the window which is wide open, moving to Pansy and placing a tentative hand on hers. "Come back to bed."
"In a minute." Pansy closes her eyes and sighs, and begins to hum again.
When Ginny closes the door behind her, she hears Pansy talking as if she is holding a conversation with someone else.
It takes a long time for Ginny to finally settle, and by the time she does sleep, Pansy still hasn't returned.
* * *
"Do you often sleepwalk?" Ginny looks up from her toast and Pansy looks confused.
"I don't believe I ever sleepwalk."
"You know you were out of bed last night, in the freezing cold singing lullabies?" Ginny places her toast down and her body chills. "You don't remember?"
"No - not a thing." Pansy looks worried and shakes her head. "I feel tired. Like I could sleep for a week."
"It's the weekend - go back to bed and get some rest," Ginny insists.
Pansy does as Ginny suggests. Instead of joining her, Ginny watches Pansy disappear from the room and settles back in her chair to think.
* * *
"I want you to tell me more about the things which have been happening to you." Ginny dishes up an evening meal and pushes the plate to Pansy, who prods at her food and grimaces.
"Nothing much has happened lately - do we have to talk about it?"
"I'd like to." Ginny nods and takes a bite of her own food, not really able to taste it. "I'm worried there's something we've missed."
"Like I said, I hear things sometimes. I sometimes think I see things out of the corner of my eye, or in the mirror when I'm checking my hair or brushing my teeth. It's like a glimpse of something and then it's gone. I don't see his face."
"Whose face?" Ginny furrows her brow and Pansy flushes.
"I gave him a name. I called him Leo, like the stars. I don't know why."
"But it's just shadows - movements out of the corner of your eye. There's nobody there."
"No." Pansy averts her gaze and Ginny turns to see what Pansy's looking at, but there's nothing but a shadow on the wall cast by the furnishings in the room.
"Was there anything else, apart from the flowers and the noises?"
"Just silly things, really." Pansy waves her hand dismissively, the former nerves and agitation seemingly gone. "One night I woke up with scratches on my arm and Merlin only knows how they got there. Perhaps I do sleepwalk, because it's always when I wake up that strange things seem to have happened. Perhaps that was it all along."
"Something doesn't feel right." Ginny looks around and frowns. The air fills with scent of their food, but there's something else which lingers - something unfamiliar which Ginny recognises from the first time Pansy came to her flat, like the scent of something burning.
"Now you're making me nervous - isn't it supposed to be the other way round?"
When Pansy laughs and the mood shifts, Ginny laughs too.
Later in the night when the bed is cold and she can hear Pansy chatting again, Ginny pulls the duvet over her head and tries to settle as the peculiar scent fills the room once more.
* * *
Two nights later, Ginny insists they spend more time at her home. Pansy's home has begun to stifle her and the late night sleepwalking has left her unsettled. Pansy agrees and packs a small bag full of clothes.
"We can have some time apart if you'd prefer?"
"Not particularly." Ginny shakes her head and squeezes Pansy's hand. "We need to do something about the sleep walking, though. It can't be good for you to be up half the night."
"Perhaps you should tie me to the bed." Pansy's smile is teasing and Ginny can't help but laugh, relaxing a little.
"I don't expect you to sleep when I do that." Ginny grins and takes Pansy's hand. They leave the house and wander through the streets, wrapped up warm. They talk about the future and Ginny finds herself surprised - not for the first time - at the comfort she gets from Pansy's company. The snide commentary has dipped and ebbed into nothing, and Pansy and she have more in common than Ginny would ever have thought a few months prior.
"I feel like I haven't been here in ages." Pansy smiles and strokes her hands along the wall when Ginny opens the door. "I've missed it."
"Your house creeps me out sometimes." Ginny shrugs and gives Pansy a sheepish grin. "No offence."
"It creeps me out sometimes, too." Pansy laughs and pulls Ginny close. "Funny to think this was how it all began between us - silly nightmares and rotting flowers. Not terribly romantic."
"We still haven't got to the bottom of it." Ginny frowns and tugs Pansy onto the sofa. "It can't just have come from nowhere, all of this."
"No. It was the strangest thing…" Pansy trails off and glares at Ginny. "You'll say I'm daft."
"No, I promise." Ginny puts her hand to her heart which beats more rapidly in her chest.
"You remember I told you about that experience at school?" Pansy says experience like it leaves a bitter taste and Ginny nods.
"That stuff with the cupboard?"
"Yes." Pansy's cheeks heat and she looks around. Her voice dips, as if someone might be listening. "Since then, I felt like someone was watching me. I thought it was because people probably were - I wasn't very popular by then, and I had already been attacked by a group I considered to be my friends once before. But now I look back on it, there were other things, too. The scratches started appearing sometimes, and I would wake in the oddest of places. There was always a smell of burning, it's why I have so many flowers around. I don't like that smell. It scares me."
Ginny shivers and she swallows thickly. "Anything else?"
"People close to me began to distance themselves - even my mother said something wasn't quite right." Pansy clasps her hands in her lap and twists them together.
"You never speak about your parents." The room is colder than it should be and Ginny presses close to Pansy for warmth. Her whole body is hot, almost overheated, and Ginny detects the light sheen of perspiration on Pansy's forehead, wondering how she can be so warm when the room is ice cold.
"No." Pansy shakes her head. "They're both in the Janus Thickey ward now - right next to the Longbottoms. They were attacked shortly after the war, but I kept it out of the press."
"I see."
Ginny shifts uncomfortably in her place and the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.
"Let's not think about it. Glass of wine?" Pansy smiles and brightens, a breath of fresh air which cuts through the oppressive atmosphere in the room.
"Please."
Pansy collects the glasses which clink together. When she opens the wine, Ginny notices that Pansy has started to hum.
* * *
"Who are you talking to?" Ginny turns in her bed as she hears Pansy chatting to someone, her voice melodic and strange to Ginny's ears.
"Nobody. Why won't you go back to sleep?" Pansy's back stiffens and she stands in the corner of the room, talking only to the shadows.
"I can't sleep with you doing that. Come back to bed - or at least turn on the light."
Ginny reaches for the light and flicks it on. The bulb blows with a sharp pop and the glass shatters on her hand. She cries out and moves back from the lamp, muttering a curse under her breath. She reaches for the other light, but Pansy stills her.
"I asked you to go back to sleep. Why won't you?" Pansy's hand is hot and clammy as it was earlier in the evening, and Ginny turns to face her.
"You're scaring me. Just stop and get into bed." Ginny glares at Pansy and her lips pull into a smile.
"I'm scared too, you know." She dips her voice into a whisper and her hot breath tickles Ginny's ear. "Leo doesn't like you much."
"Fuck this." Ginny makes to stand but before she can get to her feet, ropes twine around her body and pin her down onto the bed. She twists her head, bile rising in her throat. "I mean it, Pansy. This isn't funny."
"I know." Pansy nods and her eyes fill with tears. "You were so sweet. I told him not to hurt you, but he won't listen.
"Who? For fuck's sake, you can stop this!" Ginny panics now, tugging at her hands which are firmly bound.
When Pansy laughs, she can hear two sounds. One deep, rough and distinct and the other, soft and melodious.
The laughter stops and the ropes tighten around Ginny's body.
She struggles in place, until the cold metal of a knife slides against her skin and Pansy crawls over her, pushing the knife against her throat.
Ginny looks up and meets Pansy's eyes, garbled pleas falling from her lips.
When she sees the face looking back at her, Ginny finally starts to scream.
* * *
One week later
"Pansy's at my place, sleeping." Harry rakes a hand through his hair and shakes Arthur's hand, holding onto it for a moment. "I'll get to the bottom of this. Shacklebolt's put his best on the case. We'll leave no stone unturned."
"And they're sure Pansy wasn't involved?" Arthur has aged ten years in the last few days and Harry feels his heart breaking for him.
"I think so. She's clearly distraught and she doesn't remember a thing. She was still sleeping when Ron went round and found Ginny as she was and Pansy couldn't remember anything. Ginny was killed by hand, not magic, and quite honestly Parkinson wouldn't have had the strength." Harry winces when he sees how Arthur reacts to that statement, and squeezes his hand again. "Don't you worry - I'll keep an eye on her, make sure there's nothing we're missing."
"My little girl." Arthur rubs at his forehead and his voice cracks. "Molly - I'm not sure she'll be able to bury another child."
"She's strong - the strongest woman I know." Harry's throat aches and he wants to break down but he knows he must be strong for the Weasley family. The house is as sombre and still as he has ever known it and the sound of tears echo around the small spaces which he remembers being filled with happiness and light.
"We'll see you tomorrow?" Arthur sounds hopeful and Harry nods.
"Of course. I'll come round after supper." He leaves the house and heaves a ragged breath. Pulling his cloak around himself, he Apparates home. He can hear the sound of footfall upstairs and he takes the stairs two at a time.
"Harry?"
"I'm here." Harry pushes open the door to the spare room and frowns when he sees Pansy sitting up in bed. "I thought you were up and about?"
"No." Pansy looks lost and confused and her gaze flicks around the room. "I'm freezing."
"Just rest - it's been a rough couple of days." Harry moves to the window and shuts it tightly, looking back at Pansy. "Keep this closed - it's the middle of winter, no wonder you're cold."
"But I didn't…." Pansy trails off and then she nods, burrowing under the duvet. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
When he goes to bed and finally lets his own tears fall, Harry thinks about Ginny and everything she meant to him. He cries until his throat is raw and he wants to scream and beat his fists against the wall. Instead, he turns in the sheets and forces himself to get some rest for the next day.
As he tries to settle, Harry thinks he hears footsteps again and he wonders what Pansy is doing up.
He listens for a moment longer before the dull thuds stop.
He shuffles deeper in the bed and finally allows sleep to claim him.
~Fin~
Author/Artist: writcraft
Recipient: chokolattejedi
Pairing(s): Ginny Weasley/Pansy Parkinson, Harry Potter, Arthur Weasley
Word Count: ~5,700
Medium: Gimp 2.10, ink, sketch
Rating: R
Warnings: Horror, Major Character Death
Summary: Pansy and Ginny have never been friends, but after Hogwarts they find themselves in the same places, with a similar group of friends. One evening when Pansy comes to her for help, Ginny becomes more embroiled in Pansy's life than she ever thought possible.
Author's Notes: I had a lot of fun with both the fic and art for this piece. Thank you so much to the ever patient moderator. I really enjoyed creating this for you, chokolattejedi and I do hope it ticks your boxes. Thank you so much to M for alpha reading and cheerleading, and to A for beta reading. The quote at the start and the title are taken from Hamlet.
"Tis now the very witching time of night, when churchyards
yawn and hell itself breathes out contagion to this world.
Now I could drink hot blood and do such bitter business
as the day would quake to look upon."
"I think I'm being followed." Pansy Parkinson sits next to Ginny as if they are old friends and offers her something pink and toxic looking. "Drink?"
"No. Thanks." Ginny looks at the drink warily and lifts her bottled beer. "I'm fine."
"Beer?" Pansy sneers and then her features smooth. "Beer makes you fat."
"Is that right?" Ginny arches an eyebrow and Pansy waves her hand dismissively.
"Not that you need to worry with all of the Quidditch you play. You have the figure of a fifteen year old boy."
"Do you always have to be such a bitch?" Ginny snorts and finishes her beer.
"It's a compliment." Pansy stops Ginny from leaving by placing a hand on her arm. "Didn't you hear what I said when I sat down?"
"I heard, I just didn't particularly care." Ginny wonders what on earth she's doing in this too-loud, too-bright club, spending time with people who seem to think Pansy Parkinson is a good sort. Ginny always finds herself here when Quidditch season finishes, and every time she leaves wondering why she bothered coming in the first place.
"Well that's not very nice." Pansy glares at her drink and stirs it with her straw. "Lavender said you could help."
"She did?" Ginny tries not to let her surprise show and shrugs. "I'm not sure how."
"She thinks you're braver than most." Pansy turns to Ginny and cocks her head to the side. "Is it true that you're queer?"
"It's really none of your business." Ginny grits her teeth because the way Pansy says the word queer sounds like an insult. "I know I couldn't give two hoots about who you sleep with."
"So it is true." Pansy's shriek of laughter grates on Ginny's nerves and she looks for the best way of extricating herself from the conversation. "I remember the days when you and Potter were love's young dream. Lavender suggested I talk to him first, but he's otherwise engaged."
"I noticed." Ginny watches Harry dance - badly - looking like he no longer has a care in the world. She still feels a rush of affection for him when she sees him like this, happy and free from troubles. "Don't bother him with this, whatever this is. I'll help if I can." Ginny takes the decision to listen to Pansy, largely so Harry doesn't have to and settles back in her seat with a huff of resignation.
"You will?" Pansy looks relieved and sips her drink.
"I have nothing better to do." Ginny gestures for another beer and listens, as Pansy begins to talk.
* * *
Ginny steps outside the club and shivers under the cool breeze, half expecting to see somebody lurking in the shadows.
There is nothing.
The street is quiet and still, and the only sound Ginny can hear is the heavy rainfall and the whisper of the wind. She Apparates to her Muggle flat, deep in the heart of London's West End and relishes the sounds of people laughing and talking on the streets outside. She flicks on the lights and the television to try to drown out her thoughts, thinking not for the first time that Muggle properties have their distinct advantages.
I think I'm being followed.
Ginny can't put her finger on it, but something feels off. Pansy's insistent chatter has left her unsettled and she watches the fire flicker and flame, causing shadows to rise and fall over the walls.
Pansy seemed so certain. She had talked of strange things happening in her home - of items misplaced and shuffled around while she slept. Whenever she walked anywhere alone, she told Ginny she could have sworn she heard more than one set of footfall.
The window creaks and something in the kitchen clatters to the floor, startling Ginny from her thoughts. She opens the door to see a recently washed pan on the floor, having fallen from being carelessly placed on the washboard from a hasty breakfast. Ginny picks up the pan and shoves it into a nearby cupboard. She checks the windows and double-checks the doors.
That night, she sleeps with the lights blazing.
* * *
"Somebody did something to my flowers."
"Come in, please." Ginny responds with more than a hint of sarcasm.
"I intend to." Pansy pushes her way past Ginny into the flat and pulls off her gloves. Ginny can't remember the last time she saw Pansy in the pinks and floral she used to favour - now Pansy dresses in sharp tailored lines and expensive vintage.
"Why are you here?" Ginny locks the door securely behind them and guides Pansy into the living room.
"Because you said you'd help and something else has happened." Pansy settles and reaches for the wine Ginny had left out for the evening. "May I?"
"Why not?" Ginny rolls her eyes and raises her glass to Pansy. It's probably not a bad idea to turn to the booze if Pansy plans to stay.
"I always have flowers in the living room. Roses, in a glass bowl." Pansy moves her hands as if to show Ginny how precisely the bowl is shaped. "They were fresh this morning. I went about my usual business and changed for the evening. I came back down and they had withered completely. The flowers were brown and the petals had fallen off the stems."
"Perhaps you have ghosts that don't like your interior design?" Ginny chuckles and stops when Pansy glares.
"I knew I should have spoken to Harry - he's a proper hero and you're not taking me seriously at all."
"You're in my home, drinking my wine and considering the way you've behaved towards me in the past, I'd say you should be grateful I'm listening at all. Don't you think it's possible you're imagining things?"
"I suppose if you're going to be like that I shall have to tell you everything." Pansy looks put out and drums her fingers on her knee. "It's more than just things going bump in the night, you see. It's like there's something clawing at the walls, and there's always something just there - to the side of me, behind me, in the shadows which move in the corner of my eye."
"Even now?" Ginny looks around the room but it's peaceful and still.
"Yes." Pansy shivers. "Even now."
* * *
"You're not the only one who likes other women, you know."
"No?" Ginny wonders if Pansy has had too much wine, but the bottle's only half empty and the night is still young. "Funny, it sounded as though you thought the idea of being queer was hilarious - or distasteful."
"Well I'm not thrilled about it." Pansy huffs and folds her arms. "It's damned inconvenient, given I could have been a Malfoy if I had been better able to tolerate having sex with Draco."
"From what I hear it sounds like it might have been a struggle for him too." Ginny laughs and tops up their wine. "I've never seen you out and about with anyone. Since Malfoy, that is."
"I don't tend to put myself on display." Pansy arches her eyebrow at Ginny. "Unlike some."
"You're such a cow." Ginny glares at Pansy. "A few kisses here and there is hardly putting myself on display."
"More than a few." Pansy laughs and the sound grates on Ginny's nerves.
"I don't really need advice from you on how I live my life, thanks."
"No need to get your knickers in a twist." Pansy feigns innocence and holds her hand up in a gesture of defence, before the colour leaves her cheeks. "Did you hear that?"
"No - you're imagining things." Ginny strains to hear any sound, but there's nothing.
"I'm not - just listen, would you?" Pansy pleads with Ginny and points upwards. "Footsteps."
"There's nothing - you're being ridiculous." Ginny sees how terrified Pansy looks and sighs, listening again. She's about to protest when she hears it. A steady thud, almost like footfall sounds above them. The stairs creak and the sound moves across the ceiling before stopping - still.
"There's somebody in the house."
"Nonsense - there's no one here. I've been in all day and I checked everything was locked after you scared the living daylights out of me the other night." Ginny stands and folds her arms. "I'm going to check what's going on."
"Don't leave me here by myself." Pansy stands, hurriedly.
"Come with me, then."
"I'd rather not." Pansy looks uncertain and her gaze flickers upstairs. "I don't want to."
"Then stay, I couldn't care less." Ginny shakes her head and makes her way upstairs, her irritation and impatience assuaging her fear for the moment.
"Ginny?"
Pansy's voice sounds far away now, desperate and uncertain.
"I'll just be a minute." The skin on the back of her neck prickles and the room is colder than usual. Ginny can hear the thudding sound again and she swings open the door to the bathroom. A window has become unlatched and it moves back and forth in the night air, hitting against the frames. "It's fine, Pansy. Just the window." Ginny laughs with relief and closes it tightly, ignoring the sense of unease which rises inside her when she thinks of the way she checked the windows - every window - earlier that evening.
"I'm not sure it's just the window…" Pansy's voice sounds small and higher than usual and Ginny moves downstairs to see Pansy clutching her hands together in her lap and starting at the corner of the room. "I sometimes hate how wizard portraits move. Someone could think all kinds of things."
Ginny looks at her painting of women tending to the fields of some far-flung climes and she swallows, looking back to Pansy.
"It's a Muggle painting. Nothing magical about it."
"I don't believe you." Pansy looks around and jumps in her seat as the slow thud sounds from upstairs again. "I told you it wasn't the window."
"It's obviously just coming loose - the latch is broken." Instead of going back upstairs, Ginny sits next to Pansy and feels a rush of sympathy. "Just have another glass of wine. I promise, these things can all be explained in the end."
"Can they?" Pansy looks uncertain and Ginny nods, firmly.
"We live in a world where magic exists. You have a wand, don't you? I don't think you can let a few shadows scare you like this."
"You're right." Pansy sits up straight and matches Ginny's nod with one of her own. "I'm sure it's all silliness."
The thudding sound ceases and the room warms. Ginny reaches for Pansy and squeezes her hand gently.
"Let's forget it."
"Yes." Pansy breathes in and exhales. "Let's."
* * *
"I wouldn't have thought you'd be the sort." A week after her first visit to Ginny's flat, Pansy opens Ginny's wardrobe as if the room is her own and fingers the black satin dress like she has been invited to hunt through Ginny's things.
"The sort to wear a dress? Look pretty?" Ginny resists the urge to swat Pansy around the head because she's bloody infuriating at times.
"You're attractive." Pansy looks like it pains her to say it and she eyes Ginny. "You're not really one for pretty dresses, though."
"Neither are you anymore." Ginny arches an eyebrow and nods at Pansy's outfit - another blouse with slim-fitting trousers. "I remember a time when you liked pink and frills."
"Don't." Pansy pulls a face and shudders. "Fashions change, as do people. I grew up a bit."
"You've changed a lot." As Ginny says it, she knows it's true. Although Pansy can drive her up the wall, it's clear the hard edges she used to have at school have softened somewhat and although Pansy speaks without thinking at times, she's far from the bully she used to be.
"Things happened." Pansy looks like she doesn't want to elaborate.
"Have I blabbed to anyone about the other stuff you told me?" Ginny raises her eyebrow and Pansy shakes her head.
"I suppose you have been discrete."
"Then maybe you should trust me."
"You could say I've trusted the wrong people in the past - at school, in particular. I told a group of friends' things about me and they didn't take it how I imagined." Pansy averts her eyes and looks at her nails, holding her hand in front of her and studying them.
"I don't know what you think I'm going to do." Ginny glares at Pansy, knowing an avoidance technique when she sees one.
"People haven't exactly been there for me over the last few years. I'm used to it." Pansy shrugs.
"Well you've been spending most of your time with me for the past few weeks, telling me all sorts of things, and I haven't gone anywhere." Ginny pushes again, wondering what on earth happened to Pansy which makes her so reluctant to talk.
"No. You haven't." Pansy acknowledges Ginny's words and finally meets her eyes. "As I said, I trusted people I shouldn't have trusted. They told me to meet them somewhere in the school that I hadn't been to before - it was always full of secrets, you probably remember?"
"Very well." Ginny thinks of the secret passages and the Room of Requirement and nods.
"They told me there was a magic cupboard in this room. I didn't want to get in it, but they promised me it was just a game. In the end, I had to because I didn't want to lose face. They locked the door behind me and left. I was there for hours before Madam Pomfrey found me." Pansy looks at her knuckles and winces, clenching her hands into fists.
"You tried to beat your way out?" Ginny swallows and touches Pansy's hand, sitting beside her.
"I suppose I did. I don't know what was in there because I never saw its face, but it scared me half to death. I wasn't alone. I know that much." Pansy shudders at the memory and shakes her head. "Pretty pink dresses seemed less important after that. I wanted to be stronger."
"What you wear has nothing to do with strength." Ginny brushes her hand on Pansy's arm. "But I do like the new look. I think you and I would clash if you dressed as you used to."
"Of course. Red." With a smile, Pansy reaches up and twines a little of Ginny's hair in her fingers. "If clothes don't matter to you, why do you wear things to make you feel more…masculine?"
"Blazers and trousers and things?" Ginny shrugs. "I'm more comfortable in them, I suppose. Maybe it's growing up with six brothers that did it."
"I was just curious." Pansy averts her gaze. "I like the idea of someone looking like that then being a woman underneath it all."
"For yourself?" Ginny contemplates Pansy again. Her sleek, tailored outfit is masculine to a point, but her whole appearance retains a sharp focus on femininity with deep red lips and long thick lashes. Pansy is - Ginny is reluctant to admit - bloody gorgeous.
"No, not for myself. I find it appealing on others. I like the way you look."
"You don't look half bad yourself." Ginny feels it's only right to return the compliment and enjoys the way Pansy flushes. "Why do you still say mean things?"
"And you don't, I suppose?" Pansy sneers and her hackles raise. Her eyebrows knit into a frown and she folds her arms. "Has it ever occurred to you that I need to protect myself sometimes? People aren't very kind to Slytherins now - particularly ones who told everyone to hand Potter over."
"It was a shitty thing to do," Ginny agrees. "But people change - I'm sure there's plenty who regret what they did during the war."
"Not you." Pansy's lips twist and she contemplates Ginny. "You chose the right side."
"I had the benefit of growing up around Harry. It made it easier to know his side was the right one." Ginny shrugs and nudges Pansy. "Let's not talk about the war. How have you been?"
"Better." Pansy smiles. "There haven't been half as many strange things going on. Sometimes I wake up and I'm sure there's somebody there - but I keep telling myself it's all stuff and nonsense, just like you suggested."
"I'm glad I could help." Ginny remembers the way she had felt on the night of Pansy's last visit and wonders if she should have been quite so dismissive. "Do you fancy going out for a while?"
"With you?" Pansy looks so surprised, Ginny can't help but laugh.
"That was the general idea."
* * *
The first time Ginny kisses Pansy, it feels right in a way other kisses simply haven't.
Ginny let Pansy choose her outfit in the end, knowing how things might end up between them and feeling the strangest desire to look her best. When Pansy's hand settles on her leg with a giggle, Ginny doesn't even try to resist.
They go to Pansy's place this time, and Pansy flicks her wand explaining through heated kisses there's no Muggle technology in her home. She mentions Ginny might need her wand in a way which sounds thoroughly filthy and Ginny can't help but push Pansy against the wall and kiss her more deeply, sliding her hands over every inch of Pansy's body. When Pansy grips Ginny's crotch and lets out a moan of desire, she leaves Ginny in no doubt about her interest and Ginny finds herself all too happy to oblige. She murmurs to Pansy about binding her and bringing her to a rough completion. She talks about toys attached to harnesses and suggests one evening Pansy should dress herself in fitted satin corsets and suspenders and allow Ginny to do all kinds of things to her.
"We'll do this again, then?"
"Oh, I think so." Ginny chuckles and kisses Pansy more firmly.
"You'll wear your tuxedo?"
"If you like." Ginny grins and tugs Pansy upstairs. "I'll want you to put on some sexy underwear for me. I like that."
"Then you'll like this." Pansy smiles and opens the door to her room.
They settle onto a bed of satin and silk, and kiss one another in a tangle of limbs, rolling around in the large bed. Their clothes slip back with whispers of magic to reveal skin in the most tantalising way. Their naked bodies couple together and move in the darkness; fingers slide, tongues flick and explore hot skin and intimate places, as their kisses become more urgent.
They gasp and sigh and arch towards one another, reaching completion. They move together and kiss again as the darkness covers them both and their bodies slip and slide over the satin.
In the morning, they wake with satiated smiles and soft kisses and it's a moment before either of them notice the chill air from the open window.
"It was closed." Pansy frowns and shuts the window tightly, locking the latch down and looking around the room with a shiver. "I'm positive it was closed. Do you remember?"
"I'm not sure. It might have been open, now I come to think of it."
"Really?" Pansy looks hopeful and Ginny beckons her back to bed.
"Really," Ginny lies.
* * *
"Pansy?"
Ginny blinks and looks around the room. She slides her hand along the smooth sheets but the other side of the bed feels cold and flat. She turns her head and sees a shadow move across the walls of the room. Muttering to herself about being far too old to be scared of the dark, Ginny reaches for her wand to cast a Lumos.
"Pretty little witching girl,
Had a head full of blonde curls."
"Where are you?" Ginny swallows as she hears the sing-song melody of a lullaby she remembers her mother singing during childhood. She keeps her wand clutched tightly in her hand and moves to where a sliver of light shows beneath the heavy wooden doorframe. "Pansy?"
"She's a perfect little witching girl,
The prettiest witch in all the world."
"What on earth are you doing?" Ginny opens the door and the creak makes Pansy look up. Her eyes are vacant and her expression fixes in a strange smile.
"Singing." Pansy clasps her hands in her lap and hums the melody again before tilting her head and looking at Ginny. "Don't worry. You should sleep."
"You must be freezing." Ginny shivers and closes the window which is wide open, moving to Pansy and placing a tentative hand on hers. "Come back to bed."
"In a minute." Pansy closes her eyes and sighs, and begins to hum again.
When Ginny closes the door behind her, she hears Pansy talking as if she is holding a conversation with someone else.
It takes a long time for Ginny to finally settle, and by the time she does sleep, Pansy still hasn't returned.
* * *
"Do you often sleepwalk?" Ginny looks up from her toast and Pansy looks confused.
"I don't believe I ever sleepwalk."
"You know you were out of bed last night, in the freezing cold singing lullabies?" Ginny places her toast down and her body chills. "You don't remember?"
"No - not a thing." Pansy looks worried and shakes her head. "I feel tired. Like I could sleep for a week."
"It's the weekend - go back to bed and get some rest," Ginny insists.
Pansy does as Ginny suggests. Instead of joining her, Ginny watches Pansy disappear from the room and settles back in her chair to think.
* * *
"I want you to tell me more about the things which have been happening to you." Ginny dishes up an evening meal and pushes the plate to Pansy, who prods at her food and grimaces.
"Nothing much has happened lately - do we have to talk about it?"
"I'd like to." Ginny nods and takes a bite of her own food, not really able to taste it. "I'm worried there's something we've missed."
"Like I said, I hear things sometimes. I sometimes think I see things out of the corner of my eye, or in the mirror when I'm checking my hair or brushing my teeth. It's like a glimpse of something and then it's gone. I don't see his face."
"Whose face?" Ginny furrows her brow and Pansy flushes.
"I gave him a name. I called him Leo, like the stars. I don't know why."
"But it's just shadows - movements out of the corner of your eye. There's nobody there."
"No." Pansy averts her gaze and Ginny turns to see what Pansy's looking at, but there's nothing but a shadow on the wall cast by the furnishings in the room.
"Was there anything else, apart from the flowers and the noises?"
"Just silly things, really." Pansy waves her hand dismissively, the former nerves and agitation seemingly gone. "One night I woke up with scratches on my arm and Merlin only knows how they got there. Perhaps I do sleepwalk, because it's always when I wake up that strange things seem to have happened. Perhaps that was it all along."
"Something doesn't feel right." Ginny looks around and frowns. The air fills with scent of their food, but there's something else which lingers - something unfamiliar which Ginny recognises from the first time Pansy came to her flat, like the scent of something burning.
"Now you're making me nervous - isn't it supposed to be the other way round?"
When Pansy laughs and the mood shifts, Ginny laughs too.
Later in the night when the bed is cold and she can hear Pansy chatting again, Ginny pulls the duvet over her head and tries to settle as the peculiar scent fills the room once more.
* * *
Two nights later, Ginny insists they spend more time at her home. Pansy's home has begun to stifle her and the late night sleepwalking has left her unsettled. Pansy agrees and packs a small bag full of clothes.
"We can have some time apart if you'd prefer?"
"Not particularly." Ginny shakes her head and squeezes Pansy's hand. "We need to do something about the sleep walking, though. It can't be good for you to be up half the night."
"Perhaps you should tie me to the bed." Pansy's smile is teasing and Ginny can't help but laugh, relaxing a little.
"I don't expect you to sleep when I do that." Ginny grins and takes Pansy's hand. They leave the house and wander through the streets, wrapped up warm. They talk about the future and Ginny finds herself surprised - not for the first time - at the comfort she gets from Pansy's company. The snide commentary has dipped and ebbed into nothing, and Pansy and she have more in common than Ginny would ever have thought a few months prior.
"I feel like I haven't been here in ages." Pansy smiles and strokes her hands along the wall when Ginny opens the door. "I've missed it."
"Your house creeps me out sometimes." Ginny shrugs and gives Pansy a sheepish grin. "No offence."
"It creeps me out sometimes, too." Pansy laughs and pulls Ginny close. "Funny to think this was how it all began between us - silly nightmares and rotting flowers. Not terribly romantic."
"We still haven't got to the bottom of it." Ginny frowns and tugs Pansy onto the sofa. "It can't just have come from nowhere, all of this."
"No. It was the strangest thing…" Pansy trails off and glares at Ginny. "You'll say I'm daft."
"No, I promise." Ginny puts her hand to her heart which beats more rapidly in her chest.
"You remember I told you about that experience at school?" Pansy says experience like it leaves a bitter taste and Ginny nods.
"That stuff with the cupboard?"
"Yes." Pansy's cheeks heat and she looks around. Her voice dips, as if someone might be listening. "Since then, I felt like someone was watching me. I thought it was because people probably were - I wasn't very popular by then, and I had already been attacked by a group I considered to be my friends once before. But now I look back on it, there were other things, too. The scratches started appearing sometimes, and I would wake in the oddest of places. There was always a smell of burning, it's why I have so many flowers around. I don't like that smell. It scares me."
Ginny shivers and she swallows thickly. "Anything else?"
"People close to me began to distance themselves - even my mother said something wasn't quite right." Pansy clasps her hands in her lap and twists them together.
"You never speak about your parents." The room is colder than it should be and Ginny presses close to Pansy for warmth. Her whole body is hot, almost overheated, and Ginny detects the light sheen of perspiration on Pansy's forehead, wondering how she can be so warm when the room is ice cold.
"No." Pansy shakes her head. "They're both in the Janus Thickey ward now - right next to the Longbottoms. They were attacked shortly after the war, but I kept it out of the press."
"I see."
Ginny shifts uncomfortably in her place and the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.
"Let's not think about it. Glass of wine?" Pansy smiles and brightens, a breath of fresh air which cuts through the oppressive atmosphere in the room.
"Please."
Pansy collects the glasses which clink together. When she opens the wine, Ginny notices that Pansy has started to hum.
* * *
"Who are you talking to?" Ginny turns in her bed as she hears Pansy chatting to someone, her voice melodic and strange to Ginny's ears.
"Nobody. Why won't you go back to sleep?" Pansy's back stiffens and she stands in the corner of the room, talking only to the shadows.
"I can't sleep with you doing that. Come back to bed - or at least turn on the light."
Ginny reaches for the light and flicks it on. The bulb blows with a sharp pop and the glass shatters on her hand. She cries out and moves back from the lamp, muttering a curse under her breath. She reaches for the other light, but Pansy stills her.
"I asked you to go back to sleep. Why won't you?" Pansy's hand is hot and clammy as it was earlier in the evening, and Ginny turns to face her.
"You're scaring me. Just stop and get into bed." Ginny glares at Pansy and her lips pull into a smile.
"I'm scared too, you know." She dips her voice into a whisper and her hot breath tickles Ginny's ear. "Leo doesn't like you much."
"Fuck this." Ginny makes to stand but before she can get to her feet, ropes twine around her body and pin her down onto the bed. She twists her head, bile rising in her throat. "I mean it, Pansy. This isn't funny."
"I know." Pansy nods and her eyes fill with tears. "You were so sweet. I told him not to hurt you, but he won't listen.
"Who? For fuck's sake, you can stop this!" Ginny panics now, tugging at her hands which are firmly bound.
When Pansy laughs, she can hear two sounds. One deep, rough and distinct and the other, soft and melodious.
The laughter stops and the ropes tighten around Ginny's body.
She struggles in place, until the cold metal of a knife slides against her skin and Pansy crawls over her, pushing the knife against her throat.
Ginny looks up and meets Pansy's eyes, garbled pleas falling from her lips.
When she sees the face looking back at her, Ginny finally starts to scream.
* * *
One week later
"Pansy's at my place, sleeping." Harry rakes a hand through his hair and shakes Arthur's hand, holding onto it for a moment. "I'll get to the bottom of this. Shacklebolt's put his best on the case. We'll leave no stone unturned."
"And they're sure Pansy wasn't involved?" Arthur has aged ten years in the last few days and Harry feels his heart breaking for him.
"I think so. She's clearly distraught and she doesn't remember a thing. She was still sleeping when Ron went round and found Ginny as she was and Pansy couldn't remember anything. Ginny was killed by hand, not magic, and quite honestly Parkinson wouldn't have had the strength." Harry winces when he sees how Arthur reacts to that statement, and squeezes his hand again. "Don't you worry - I'll keep an eye on her, make sure there's nothing we're missing."
"My little girl." Arthur rubs at his forehead and his voice cracks. "Molly - I'm not sure she'll be able to bury another child."
"She's strong - the strongest woman I know." Harry's throat aches and he wants to break down but he knows he must be strong for the Weasley family. The house is as sombre and still as he has ever known it and the sound of tears echo around the small spaces which he remembers being filled with happiness and light.
"We'll see you tomorrow?" Arthur sounds hopeful and Harry nods.
"Of course. I'll come round after supper." He leaves the house and heaves a ragged breath. Pulling his cloak around himself, he Apparates home. He can hear the sound of footfall upstairs and he takes the stairs two at a time.
"Harry?"
"I'm here." Harry pushes open the door to the spare room and frowns when he sees Pansy sitting up in bed. "I thought you were up and about?"
"No." Pansy looks lost and confused and her gaze flicks around the room. "I'm freezing."
"Just rest - it's been a rough couple of days." Harry moves to the window and shuts it tightly, looking back at Pansy. "Keep this closed - it's the middle of winter, no wonder you're cold."
"But I didn't…." Pansy trails off and then she nods, burrowing under the duvet. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
When he goes to bed and finally lets his own tears fall, Harry thinks about Ginny and everything she meant to him. He cries until his throat is raw and he wants to scream and beat his fists against the wall. Instead, he turns in the sheets and forces himself to get some rest for the next day.
As he tries to settle, Harry thinks he hears footsteps again and he wonders what Pansy is doing up.
He listens for a moment longer before the dull thuds stop.
He shuffles deeper in the bed and finally allows sleep to claim him.
~Fin~