An Eve Of A Death

If it had been any other day, Pansy Parkinson may have not been so... destructive. But no. She was a sixteen year old girl, and these utter arses were getting on her nerves.

"Step off, bitch."

It made her gasp, because what in the world did that even mean? Step off of what?

Maybe hexing Ginny Weasley's hair to fall out wasn't necessary, but come on! The snotty, little brat had told her to step off.

Plus, she called Pansy a bitch.

It would take more then Professor Mcgonagall giving her muggle-like chores, to get rid of the pride that bled through her everytime she saw the redhead's hair.

Or lack thereof.

Was it this day, that had started their grudge? Merlin no! But, it was the eve of their death.

It wasn't anything big, just Dumbledore dying, and Draco Malfoy helping the Death Eaters into Hogwarts.

So how did she die? Pansy honestly doesn't have a clue. One minute she was duelling Ginny Weasley, with her magically grown back hair in a bun, next they were both blasted to smitherins.

If only she knew the bastard that had done it.

Mcgonagall and- (The thought of the now dead headmaster causing her to choke on something she wouldn't allow, not tears or regret, never).

...just Mcgonagall was heartbroken, unknowing of what to do with the two new ghosts. Snape was of no use, and none of the teachers knew more then they had.

Pansy was pissed off.

Pansy Parkinson, she was meant to live for another century, at least! Now she would have to roam Hogwarts, with only a few unsavoury ghosts to accompany her.

Merlin, she may as well just die!

It should have been a shock, but Pansy was excited. Only partially, but this way, she would be able to fly. And, uh, not die? What use was there, to being dead? Not one good enough for Pansy to feel alright.

Weasley, though, was devastated. Pansy guess it had something to do with not being able to grow up? All that family garbage, that Pansy herself couldn't stand.

Personally, she had never been one for children. Especially with her tendencies of being selfish and abusive.

Pansy floated from the sky, letting her self drift through clouds and getting closer to the trees. She was so bored, and lonely. She could barely bare it.
There wasn't a lot of places she could go, though. It was weekes after, and her heart ached for normality. Mother and father hadn't shown much compassion, and Pansy couldn't wait for their funerals.

At the end of the year, she found solitude in the Black Lake. The Merpeople were amusing, but Moaning Myrtle was most fun to stalk.

Peeves, though, she hated Peeves. But they were a family, even her and Weasley had key moments. Moments of pulling hair and yelling at each other. Shattering windows and causing eachother to black out.

It was her favorite pass time.

Perhaps not so much Weasley's, but she could care less for the redhead blood traitor.

Well, that's what comes up in her mind when she thinks of their relationship. Pansy, when lonely, becomes a lot more different.

And besides, Weasley was a pureblood! What more could she ask for?

She could swallow down her pride and sit with a blood traitor, if it meant less time with a mudblood.

"Oh how I wish I could die."

Surprisingly, it wasn't Pansy that said it. Weasley was sitting on the bottom of the lake with her, ignoring everyone that had ever existed.

Pansy was only slightly curious.

"I guess so." She had nothing else to add, and thank Merlin for that. Weasley might not be able to handle too much Arrogant Pansy today.

Honestly, she would rather be anywhere else, but Moaning Myrtle wasn't much fun either.

It had felt like hours had passed when Pansy decided to speak up, boredom causing her blood to clog up her veins.

"My parents were going to allow me to get drunk this Christmas... I won't even be able to get drunk now, you know? Like full on, tripping down, spewing in the morning, drunk. It sucks."

It was cold down here, and they were both 'soaked' wet to the bone.

"Aw, that's a shame," she wasn't sure if Weasley said this with sarcasm or not, but she would take any pity she could get. "Last time I got drunk, it was pretty okay." That was a shocker. Ginny Weasley, a drinker? Surely not.

But she was, and Pansy should have known better. Especially with knowing where Weasley grew up.

"Did you spew the next day?" She looked over and frowned deeply, she missed being alive.

"No, I'm sure there's a few spells and potions for that. I've been able to hold down my alcohol fairly well, anyway." She was so uncomfortable, how long had they been down here for? She was afraid of the dark.

They didn't talk much after that, Pansy never was one for conversation.

Even though they werent speaking with words, it felt like Weasley was talking with the way she threw the pebbles up in the air, watching them float back down.

It was a pattern that she couldn't keep up with. Pansy, eyes staring at Weasley absentmindedly, was trying to plait her short hair.

Hair didn't grow here, in the limbo they were living in. Pansy wonders if Weasley is relieved she had managed to magically grow her hair back before she had died.

"It sucks that we can't really use magic anymore," Weasley muttered, running her fingers through her hair, now staring at an eel that swam beside her leg.

"Well, even if Peeves is a poltergist, I bet we could learn some tricks off of him." Pansy smiled, excited at the thought of being able to do something, even if it was pointless.

Besides talking to Weasley, that is.

"Have you ever thought of being an Animagus?" They were floating through the pipes that connected to the school, rather just going straight back instead of having to pass all the lake creatures.

Pansy looked over to her.

"Well, no. Maybe in second year, but Draco said I would probably be a snake, or something worse." As they got deeper into the pipe works, the water became less and less. They were walking by the time she had answered.

Well, more like floating. Especially here, in these pipes it was all upwards.

"Oh. Well, I had always wanted to look into it later, maybe in my... senior years of Hogwarts." Pansy's heart ached for her, it really did. They had both died young, but Weasley had died younger.

Once they were both in the girls (abandoned) bathroom, they shook themselves off of all the murky water, though the feeling of dirt and muck was still left behind.

"I thought you guys weren't friends," Moaning Myrtle cried, coming out from behind them, scaring Pansy as much as she hoped it had scared Weasley.

"We aren't." Moaning Myrtle didn't usually hang out with Pansy, but she did hang out with Weasley.

All three dead girls floated to the great hall, going to sit in front of a massive fireplace Pansy hadn't noticed before.

Since all three girls were in different houses, they preferd to talk here.

"You know what we're like now?" both Moaning Myrtle and Pansy looked to Weasley expectingly, saying 'what' in unison.

"Vampires!" Pansy groaned, Weasley laughed and Moaning Myrtle poked at her teeth.