RP: In the darkness of the night Date: 23 April 2008 Characters: Morag Dolohova (Macdougal) and Pansy Parkinson, although separate. Mentions of Antonin Dolohov, Tiberius Ogden, and Harry Potter. Location: Morag is at #1 Dippett Drive, and Pansy is at 212 Cicero Lane, both in Hogsmeade. Private/Public: Private Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Angst, grief, and worry. Summary: A contrast of two women, both handling extreme emotions in very different ways.
Morag
Morag slipped from the bed quietly so as not to disturb Antonin. The nights were especially hard for her. She just kept seeing what had happened with Tiberius over and over in her head. It had all the hallmarks of a bad dream . . . the haze rising from the battlefield from various fires and spells cast, the view of what was happening before her, and her running as hard as she could but not getting there.
Only it wasn’t just a bad dream.
She hadn’t been getting much sleep. When she did fall into a restless slumber, her dreams were often of looking for something she’d lost. Or she had nightmares about a battle, about not being able to save someone. Usually Tibby, but sometimes Antonin, also. Once it had been the whole group of people she loved . . . Antonin, Tiberius, her parents, her sister, Percy, and her friends. It had been after that one that she had started just getting up rather than risk another bad dream.
As she had done on that night, Morag put on the shirt Antonin had left near the bed and went down to the pool. She probably should have told the elves to not disturb her while she was down there, but the thought hadn’t occurred to her. Her mind was caught in an endless loop that it had a hard time breaking out of.
At the pool, she let the shirt slip to the floor and dove into the cool water, starting to swim. Lap after lap she swam, past her normal routine. She drove herself until her muscles complained, striving for that zone where her mind would still and it would just be the movement. That feeling eluded her but if she kept at it long enough she’d discovered, the scream from her muscles would drown out the scream in her heart.
On and on she swam until finally her muscles just wouldn’t, couldn’t, take any more. And then, too tired to even climb out of the pool, she just lay in the water and let it envelop her. There she stayed until she sensed stirrings in the house, as she had done on previous nights.
When she sensed Antonin rousing upstairs, she slowly dragged herself up the steps of the pool, ignoring the complaint and tremor in her limbs as they protested the movements.
There were things to do.
Pansy
Pansy awoke with a start and immediately reached out for Harry, unable to breathe until her hand made contact and she knew he was there. Slowly she took a breath and let it out, trying to relax. She’d been dreaming, of what she couldn’t remember, but Harry had somehow been in danger. Her dreams lately had been full of danger and fear and worry . . . since the battle really.
Pansy really hadn’t thought much about battles and what Harry did before. She hadn’t had to. There hadn’t been one since she’d realized how much she cared about Harry. She’d worried about him before, but not like this, not like now. Now the feelings of fear and panic cut off her air and made her heart stutter. It was all she could do to not let him know how badly she was handling it all.
She slowly edged nearer him, carefully slipping under his arm until she was nestled against his side. She’d become quite the barnacle lately, clinging to him through the night. By morning, she’d have an arm and a leg thrown over him, though whether to protect him or restrain him, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t care. It helped to cling to him, to let his warmth settle into her bones and tell her he was safe.
It was odd, really. Her biggest problem with Gilderoy, other than that he was frustratingly annoying in extended doses, was that he had seemed to prefer snuggling to sex. Maybe not preferred but he had seemed content to foregot the sex as long as she'd cuddle with him. But Pansy hadn’t been able to cope with the only occasional sexual intimacy, and her intended fidelity had fallen by the wayside as she ended up looking elsewhere for what she needed.
But she wasn’t feeling the same frustrations with Harry. They’d not done anything at all other than a little extended snogging, even though they shared a bed at night. But she wasn’t eying other men. She’d actually been relieved that Miles had married Daphne and that Cass had decided to be faithful to Percy! She didn’t want anybody besides Harry. Even if it meant waiting.
It didn’t matter that it meant waiting. He was worth it.
If he would just stay alive.
Pansy sighed and burrowed closer to Harry, burying her face against his warm skin so she could smell the scent of him. Comforted by his presence, she fell asleep.