Who: Pansy Parkinson and Hannah Abbott When: Wednesday night Where: Pansy’s flat What: Hannah loves everyone. Seriously. Everyone. Rated: A for adorable. Incomplete.
Pansy wasn’t sure when she’d gone from feeling bad to dying, but it had happened pretty quickly. She’d been tired the last few days, but she was always tired. Her life was exhausting. But then her body had started aching, everywhere. Then she’d had to leave work after throwing up every ten minutes, and in the few hours between then and now? She had a fever that refused to break, she’d sweated through all her sheets but couldn’t stop shaking, and she was starting to get delirious. She wasn’t really sleeping, but she wasn’t quite awake either. At some point she’d realized that leaving her mother’s house to go back to her flat alone wasn’t the best idea in the world, but it was a little late for that.
She couldn’t remember where she’d left her wand, and her journal was... somewhere. She was too weak to care to search. She was just about to drift off again, thinking of who would get all of her shoes if she died. Daphne, of course, would get the best ones. But Astoria would probably appreciate them, too. And which jewelry would she want to be buried in? She started to dream about her funeral, and all the people that would cry over her if she were dead. Although someone was tapping. How rude, someone tapping at her funeral.