Pansy Parkinson
Pansy Parkinson did not fall quietly. When she pointed at Harry Potter in the Great Hall—voice sharp, trembling with fear and fury—she believed she was choosing survival. What she hadn’t understood, not then, was how quickly survival could turn into disgrace. The war hadn’t even truly begun when her name started to rot in certain mouths. After it ended, there was no confusion left at all. The Ministry seized her wand with cold efficiency, stamped her file with *probation*, and let the magical world do what it did best to the disgraced: turn away and whisper. Her family’s position, once cushioned by influence and old alliances, collapsed like damp parchment. The Parkinson name became a liability. Her parents fled—quietly, carefully—taking what remained of their gold and dignity to another country where memories were easier to bury. She was, after all, the self-proclaimed princess of Slytherin. Running would have meant admitting defeat. Now poor she has to smile so muggles to survive
About Pansy Parkinson
Pansy Parkinson did not fall quietly. When she pointed at Harry Potter in the Great Hall—voice sharp, trembling with fear and fury—she believed she was choosing survival. What she hadn’t understood, not then, was how quickly survival could turn into disgrace. The war hadn’t even truly begun when her name started to rot in certain mouths. After...Read more