Chapter Text
"What are you waiting for? Someone grab him!" Who could have thought that those words would have more impact than a dark marked arm or literally being in the servitude of the Dark Lord. Even returning with Slughorn and fighting for Hogwarts, which Pansy did, wouldn't save her. Once a part of the Sacred 28, Parkinson name means nothing now. All because of Pansy; atleast that's what her mother said, repeatedly; bemoaning her lack of social invite and unable to go to her favourite shops to shop and places to eat because people would turn her away or in some cases bad-mouth her. It didn't matter that their family had never been part of the Dark Lord circle or even been initiated as Death Eaters; but demanding to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord was a crime with the biggest sin. Pansy’s father had refused to take part in the first war by moving the family to France for the duration and only returned when Potter had vanquished the Dark Lord the first time. Her mother, however was displeased with her father for not being a part of the Dark Lord’s inner circle or even a circle. Oleander Parkinson (Pansy’s father) was adamant to stay at the side during the war and not be either on the light side or the dark. I guess that is the only good thing her father did, not be a Death Eater.
Walking down the limestone path, Pansy spotted her favourite vendor at the market square. The old man smiled when he saw her and bent down to look for something. Tuesdays were Pansy’s favourite, the market was packed to the brim at the market square in Gordes. She loved living here in this quaint village in France on a hilltop surrounded by lavender fields. She discovered this place when she was travelling around Europe after the War.
After being shunned by the light side for suggesting to hand over Potter and from the dark side for returning to the battle and fighting to save the castle; she was persona non-grata in the English wizarding world.
She wandered through the Italy countryside and the French for more than a year after the war; and even wandered into the muggle world to see what the fuss was about. Even though the sound and lights of the muggle world were captivating, she came back to the quiet of the wizarding world. One thing she loved of the muggles, the clothing! They were comfortable and not at all stiff like the wizarding robes. Living in Italy and France, she realised the wizarding world there were less formal and have adapted themselves to the muggle clothing styles. To blend in, she shed the wizarding robes and embraced the summer dresses, the comfortable tops and trousers or jeans, evening gowns and even shorts. After a while, that clothing became normal to her and something she became very interested in. At 20, she enrolled herself into the Wizarding Design School in Paris for 3 years for a course of Fashion Designing and Business. Afterwards, she worked with a fashion house “Antoinne” for 3 years. Even though wizarding world in Italy and France had eased clothing norms, there were still very few companies manufacturing the normal clothes. The rich still stuck to traditional robes over comfort.
Pansy saw this as her opportunity to do something on her own and for herself. She loved fashion and designing for her own company was something she grabbed on. Also, Antoinne is good but Pansy is one of the Sacred 28, if anyone knew how to make these clothes mainstream and acceptable, she was definitely the one of those people; even with the tainted Parkinson name.
After parting ways with Antoinne, “Wisteria” was born. Her own designing company. She opened Wisteria, keeping in theme with her family obsession with flowers and kept herself in the background and let her designs and clothes do all the work and talking. After only 2 years, her designs were doing great and Wisteria was one of the most sought after collection. Travelling to Gordes for a design inspiration, she fell in love with the quaintness of this wizarding village.
She bought a house on the hill side and worked around making it a home. She loved the quietness of the land, the hustle and bustle of the market square; especially on a Tuesday when traders came and flaunted their wares during market time. She loved the lavender fields surrounding her home and the terracotta homes and the limestone lanes. She loved it here more than the noisy Paris and the humid Nice and thus had made this her home for the last 3 years.
“Bonjour Monsieur”, Pansy said on reaching the stall. The old man straightened on that and put his hand forward showing a bag full of home-made Calissons d’Aix.
"Tu es arrivé en retard. Heureusement, j’en ai sauvé pour toi tout à l’heure. Tout le stock a été vendu en quelques minutes." (You came late. Good thing, I saved some for you earlier. All the stock was sold-out in few minutes) , the old man said.
Pansy, "Merci Peter !!"
The old man whose name was Peter, "aucun problème. Ici, ma femme a fait quelques madelines et macarons pour la petite Rose." (No problem. Here, my wife has made some madelines and macarons for little Rose) Peter then forwarded his hand again and on it was a box filled to the brim with madelines and chocolate macarons made by his wife which were one of the best things she has ever tasted. Peter bent down before Rose, Pansy’s 2.5 years old daughter who meant everything to her. Rose (keeping in theme with flower traditioned-names) looked at Peter and babbled happily looking at choclate macarons and madelines and reaching for the box.
Pansy intercepted and took the box out of Peter’s hands before they get dropped down by Rose. Feeling elated, she turned to Peter to thank him and to pay him some galleons when he shook his head and only took the money for calissons d’Aix and not for madelines and macarons, saying they were a gift from his wife. Pansy thanked him and then left to do some shopping in the market as she was already delayed and the stalls were looking emptier by the minute and she had quite a few items to still buy.
After some time, Pansy walked the cobbled road to her home watching her daughter running along the path chasing a butterfly. Rose was her greatest gift. Brunette, like her, but with softer features. Her eyes were blue like her father and not like Pansy's brown. Rose's father was a wizard she met in Paris on a work trip. They dated for 7 months before Pansy became pregnant. Not wanting a baby, he left and has stayed away till now. He wanted nothing of the baby so Pansy wanted nothing of the man. She was not really alone though through her pregnancy. She had made great friends, ones who stuck by her and made her laugh and made her realised the actual meaning of friendship. One who she brunches on Sundays with and sometime goes out on Friday nights with, though with Rose in picture, her Friday nights consist of playing with the reading night-time stories, a ritual she never wants to outgrow.
Pansy's friends consisted of Emma, an Irish witch who was bough up in Paris and Josephine or Jojo who is a witch from Sweden. She loved them and valued them. They made her a better person than the one they met 8 years ago, a snobby brat. Apart from Daphne, she never had any girl-friends during her younger years, so she was surprised when they took her under their wings and made her feel part of the group and not just someone they met in the muggle Paris who looked so out of her zone that she had to be a witch. Pansy's biggest fears were them leaving her at the time, even though she wouldn't admit, but the moment she drunkenly told them all about her life and they still stuck by her, she was relieved. Jojo and Emma love Rose and Rose in turn loves her aunties who always bring her gifts.
Pansy opens the door to her home and Rose runs towards a unicorn toy, a gift from her aunties, on which she hops and rides all around the house.
Pansy stares at her, longing for the innocence and carefree nature of her child, and not for her company meeting on Thursday wherein the new collection is to be decided. Pansy looks out the window and see the sun still up at 6pm signalling spring is coming soon and the warmer days await. Pansy craves the warmth now and chill is the only reminder of the cold Parkinson Manor back in England and living with equally cold parents.
Pansy promises that Rose would only know love and not have a childhood which Pansy had; one which was indifferent and never being a boy who could take Parkinson name forward.
Pansy loves her life her and never wants to do anything with the English wizarding world. Her mother doesn’t want anything to do with her or Rose; which she is fine because her mother has said all the untoward things about her and her child when she came to know that Pansy was pregnant out of wed-lock which completely undid her planning of having a betrothal between Pansy and a wizard from a pureblood Russian family. Words were shouted and Pansy did not see her mother again; having last seen or heard from her 2 years back when she was still plotting how she would make a comeback to the high society. Pansy didn’t care enough of that, she had her life in France which she loved and a work which she loved and a daughter who she loved the most.
Her sweet Rose with the face of a cherub and with wavy black hair ran back into the room having left her toy unicorn in the corridor to snuggle next to Pansy, who was working on some budget reviews, to indicate that she was tired. Having had some light dinner already in town, Pansy bathed Rose and then began her night-time ritual of reading a storybook. Rose’s current favourite was “Gnome and Apple orchard” which she loved to hear Pansy read while she looked at the moving pictured of gnomes and orchards.
Finishing the story, Pansy looks on at Rose already asleep. She tucks her in and instructs Millie, her house-elf to look after Rose and leaves the room. She opens a bottle of wine, a luxury she can now have after her breastfeeding days are over and pours a glass and goes over her files again.
After dozing off again and almost spilling the wine on the papers, Pansy thinks its better to go off to sleep. Thinking of the impending Friday night out with her friends one which was in planning for 2 months and a picnic outing on Sunday to a wizarding menagerie with Rose, Pansy goes to sleep peacefully which makes the 3am ward’s owner transfer-ship to her and the manor magic transferring to her for a strong & rude awakening. One where even before her manor house-elf Liff apparates to her home in Gordes in the middle of the night, Pansy knows that her mother has passed away.