Prompts: @
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fanathon : Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson: failed projects (not as a couple, at most one-sided) @ 101
prompts : [3. color]
Notes: Character death, freely inspired to '
I fell, giving the arm, at least one million stairs '(Montale). Lithograph of the banner MCEscher.
weight on one arm [3. color]
Technically, it was his cousin in the fourth degree on both the paternal maternal essentially, was the daughter of a friend of his mother, in practice, had grown up together. If the sticking points
him, hanging on his arm, attached to her dress, in all the big events of his life. With the constant chatter that distinguished her, had always filled the gaps around him. Just as now, a multitude of colors that fills the stuffy white surrounding her. Black church, white coffin, white death.
comes as a nightmare, the news of the massacre of the disease, but does not end with a wake. As a part of Draco simply trying to realize that in that box of white wood is Pansy, another can not stop to wonder why all this happened. Once again in his life, Draco swings on site and on its sides there is only emptiness, but today there is vacuum in the back, where no weight familiar and comforting the friend. His parents did not come to the funeral, and even this Draco asks why. His mother has said vaguely that it was not prudent, his Father did not respond. Not even when Draco asked him the reason for the death of his father Parkinson said, and he only told to stop thinking about it, because they would have found another girlfriend, and the problem would be solved.
Pansy loved the flowers, like all women, even though he had never understood anything of their varieties, the symbolic messages they bear, matching their you could do, or how to arrange them. Pansy liked them instinctively and with something wild, without thinking, without attacking a poem. She loved roses like daisies, the Erika as the lily, without understanding very much, but with force. Draco then had to have a cascade of colorful plants of all types, chromatic waves, all around the white coffin, and none had they stopped, and he thought that Pansy would be proud, to see filled with flowers, and would started to laugh with that voice shrill and annoying that he gave so much trouble. Why he had never got the flowers, so far. A strange feeling of calm pervades it, the thought that Pansy would never obsessed with her laughter, with its constant weight, taking his arm even though he gave it to him, taking freedom even if he tried to stand aloof .
In a corner of the church sees her aunt and grandmother Pansy arguing heatedly even though in a low voice, the older woman weeping uncontrollably, but has a certain urgency in the way of doing that also troubled Draco. Indicates the eye to her daughter, who turned briefly to look at him and then shakes his head, as if she had said something absurd, then the arm and take the door off. When the two women disappear, Draco realizes that the church is half-empty even if the last few minutes at the beginning of the function. Despite Parkinson mother's side have not many relatives out of Azkaban, it is strange. Draco begins to understand what he meant his mother. The white marble
Church irritates him. The Parkinson remembers the staircase of the house, where he and Pansy have fallen far more than a million times, she always hung on to his arm strength, he always annoyed by this or that reason. A Pansy liked to talk about the future, as they came down, spoke of the magnificent gardens that would grow around the Malfoy Manor, of how he decorated his living room suite, as Laith and her husband would invite to dinner the first Thursday of each month, as absolutely not going to dinner by Nott (generally open a parenthesis here about how unbearable it was night, and to what his brother was a salt cod) and various descriptions of the life that they did. Draco had learned to associate each project to a very specific step of the staircase, according to read the grain of white marble, and as he descended the stairs with his head down, regardless of his surroundings, she was driving in his footsteps and encourage him. Over time, Draco had realized, almost unintentionally, that Pansy never spoke of the family who would build, did not mention children, did not describe bedrooms, not even touched the subject of smear. To hear such talk, which seemed to have inherited Malfoy Manor without even marry him. Draco was surprised not to hear her speak mainly of the wedding party.
In a sense, now regret not having ever asked the reason for this oddity, but now that all plans had a strange feeling of calm pervades.
The idea of traveling the back staircase of the house Parkinson made it feel unstable, however, still in place and swing, instinctively looking for something to lean on, the weight that usually keeps him anchored to the ground when he loses his balance. The family of the late lamented
enter: Aunt Pansy with Vincent and her husband, the grandmother Lucie Parkinson. Draco realizes that they are now the owners of the house of Pansy, the staircase and all the little dreams related to each step.
White suffocates him, despite the artfully arranged flowers. Pansy perhaps they would Tracks in bulk rather than in waves of color. Knowing that he had saved from the aggression of the usual high-pitched voice, Draco feels pervade the stillness, and now finally vacuum, both inside and out.
