DREAM.AGAIN;;tag:open

[pansy]

It was a cold and bitter autumn day, just the sort that Pansy loved the most. It was ten past twelve in the afternoon and Pansy found herself in a small park that was just outside Diagon Alley. It was a pretty little plot of earth with three small benches scattered around a large statue of some old Wizard she didn’t know anything about. Around the structure grew beautiful white lilies that seemed to be charmed to grow no matter what the weather. The sticking contrast between the virgin white of the flowers and the amber hues of the dead and fallen leaves from the trees up ahead was simply breathtaking. And as Pansy sat upon the stone bench in the center of the park she couldn’t help but let her eyes wonder upon the scene. It was simple things like that that make her really appreciate things. About life and death and the difference between the two and before she knew it Pansy found herself lost in a world of her own thoughts and imagination.

It wasn’t until the harsh winds of autumn began to whip at her raven hair did she snap back into present time. Her blue eyes began looking around once more, watching the busy and bustling street just ten feet from where she was sitting. Everyone seemed as though they were in such a hurry, unable to take the time to just sit and appreciated the little things in life that make it all worth wild. The realization of that made Pansy a bit sad, comprehending herself that she too was like the hordes of people mulling about her. Where had the time gone? She could remember her childhood and the simply pleasures and situations that had once made her truly happy, but now seemed almost mundane and unimportant. She wished she had more time to do things like she was doing now, just sitting and thinking and appreciating the little things.

With a sad sort of smile Pansy brought the small cup of hot coco she had purchased for Florean Fortescue’ just a moment before to her lips. Curling them in an O shapes she began to blow upon the hot fluid lightly. The grey wispy steam lingered in the air and ticked the end of her button nose, causing a small shiver to run throughout her entire being. The coco was still too hot to consume and although Pansy could perform a quick cooling charm on the beverage she didn’t, having personally always finding the chocolate to become just a bit tainted by the spell. Besides, she enjoyed relishing in the feeling of the hot cup nestled in-between her two cold hands. It was one of those moments in life that Pansy always looked forwards too and was probably the number one reason why she loved fall so very much. Just sitting in a park, a coco in hand as she watched the people walk by was truly blissful and she knew the moment the drink was gone she would have to return back to reality.

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[nightmare]

With just a look they shook
And heavens bowed before him.
Simply a look can break your heart.
The stars that pierce the sky

Zan shuddered, feeling a cold wind tear through her thin clothing. She glanced around enviously; there were several purebloods strolling about, clad in thick, warm coats and cradling cups of hot cocoa or coffee in their hands. Zan wished she could stop for a cup of cocoa, but she hadn’t brought much money with her. She avoided carrying a lot of money around Diagon Alley; though it was supposedly more high class than Knockturn Alley, there were still plenty of cutthroats and pickpockets. Besides, Zan knew Knockturn Alley inside out and backwards. Unlike many others, she preferred there to Diagon Alley.

However, she had needed to pick up a shipment of Ashwinder Eggs, which luckily were supposed to be frozen. They were carefully cradled in the bag that was slung over her shoulder, and she was making her lopping way back towards her store. She wasn’t looking down, like most of the others in the street. Instead, her eyes were constantly scanning the area, searching for any threat to her or her cargo. Though the eggs were pretty useless unless brewed properly, thieves wouldn’t know that until they were shattered against the cold ground.

She was just outside of Diagon Alley when her bag split. Cursing, Zan swiftly jerked the bag so it was in front of her, catching the two eggs that had fallen through the gash. Carefully cradling the old bag in her arms, Zan made her way over to a nearby park-thing. It was small, but looked comfortable, and was almost empty. There was one other woman sitting there, sipping at a cup of hot liquid contemplatively. Zan fought back a scowl, instead carefully unpacking the bags of eggs in her bag. When they were settled beside her, Zan examined the bag. She vaguely knew of a few sewing spells, but she never found that sort of thing very useful, so hadn’t looked up on them much. A mending spell could work, but Zan didn’t trust a spell to continue carrying her precious cargo. Though the bag was old and had gotten many injuries, Zan had never used magic on it. She felt doing so now would cause bad luck.

Knowing full well it would label her as an impurity, but having no other ideas, Zan pulled out a box of matches and a spool of thread from her pocket. She quickly transfigured one of the matches into a needle then, setting up, began to deftly sew the gash closed. Call her a halfblood, but she trusted the work of her own hands far more than a spell, though she recalled her father telling her a million times that spells were better than doing things the Muggle way, and that was that.