Pansy Parkinson (snarky_parky) wrote in plagued_logs, @ 2015-07-28 23:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | 1998 july, pansy parkinson, rating 15 |
Nightmares
Who: Pansy Parkinson
What: The darkest hours before dawn are not the kindest.
When: 29, July 1998; around 2am
Where: Parkinson Manor
Rating: 15
Status: Complete
Pansy woke with a start, gasping for breath, her heart racing and skin crawling as she struggled against the sheets. She could still feel the cold hands holding her down, pulling at her clothes, and she fought against the scream that wanted to be let loose. She pushed her way to a sitting position, looked around the room with wild eyes. There was nothing, no one, there. He wasn't there. She ran a shaking hand through her hair, then snatched her wand from under her pillow. Just in case.
Every light was lit, fire going strong in the grate, just as she'd left them when she'd gone to bed. Even in her half-panicked state she could feel the protective charms were holding strong around her bed, around the door, around the windows. Nothing, and more importantly no one, was getting in. She forced herself to take deep, slow breaths, even if it felt like someone had her chest in a vise. There were tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She wasn't a sniveling Hufflepuff and wouldn't sob into her pillow over a dream.
"Just a dream," she murmured to herself, her voice rather more shaky than she' was willing to admit, even to herself. Already, the images were fading and she was left with nothing but a sense of dread crawling up her spine. With determination born of months filled with the same dream, she pushed the final images deep down and busied herself with righting the bed. She could call Nettie, but the last thing she wanted was for her Nanny Elf to fuss over her. She wasn't sure if she could control herself if that happened. As of yet, Nettie had only found her in this state twice, and both times had left Pansy shaky for far longer than if she fought the demons off herself.
Knowing she'd never get back to sleep unless she did a full check of the Manor, she removed the protective barriers around the bed and summoned her robe and slippers, both winter-weight despite it being mid-Summer. The manor always carried a chill, made all the worse by the fact that aside from Pansy's set of rooms, the manor was nearly emptied. What her dear stepmother hadn't made off with, and the Ministry hadn't confiscated as 'suspicious', the goblins had claimed to cover her father's extensive debt. What was left was entailed to Pansy through her mother's father, and even then there hadn't been much. As she walked through her childhood home, a home that she loved very much, she could feel the anger start to replace the fear. She welcomed it; anger was good. Terror was not. Anger was strong, and she would not be weak. She couldn't afford to be weak.
She took her time checking the manor, though it was routine at this point. Her wand was held steady, though she knew the chances of needing it were slim. The Manor wards were as strong as she could make them, and despite her performance at Hogwarts, Pansy knew they would give her more than sufficient warning should anyone unwanted come trespassing. Still, she took her time, renewed protective spells here and there, and left especially inventive, if she did say so herself, jinxes at every possible entrance to the manor's ground floor, and upper floor windows. Anyone trying to get in at any of these points would have a truly nasty surprise waiting for them.
The spell casting had the added bonus of leaving her nearly exhausted by the time she wound he way back to her rooms. She renewed the protective spells there, making them twice as strong as she felt they really needed to be, and then fed the fire back to full blaze. The light from that, and the lamps on the wall, were enough to chase every shadow from the room. She knew this was a habit that she'd have to break once back at school, but that was weeks away and she was sure she'd be rid of these appalling weaknesses by then. She would have to be.
That thought in mind, she closed her eyes and hoped the dreams wouldn't come again that night.