Pansy-
The Vanishing Cabinet is still broken, even though Malfoy and I spent hours on it each night, the green apple is still in the cabinet.
Draco and I became more paranoid day after day, eating close to nothing. My clothing became even looser each day, but I can't even be happy about that because of how the task is going. What is the use of being skinny when the Dark Lord's threats loom after Draco and I each day? Blaise, Daphne, Nott all noticed the change in Draco and I, but they didn't say anything because there's nothing left to say; they just try to make us feel a bit happier each day. The upside in all of this is arithmancy and I get to spend some time with Granger. Granger doesn't know what Draco and I are up to, and surprisingly she didn't ask, instead, she writes little notes with messages like "hope you have a good day", "tomorrow is going to be better", "carpe diem"; these notes don't make my worries go away, but they always bring a smile to my face. It is those little things that get me through each day.
Draco and I even told Madam Rosmerta to poison the mead and give it to Slughorn, and have Slughorn to give it to Dumbledore. As you can guess, this plan failed tragically, instead Draco and I manage to poison Ronald Weasley. I know this plan is too foolish to work, but we are running out of time. We are getting too desperate.
It is two o'clock in the morning, the day of Christmas break, and Draco and I are in the Room of Requirement again trying to make the green apple disappear. We are getting more anxious by the minute because we know when we return to our houses for the holiday, the Dark Lord will check in to see what progress we are making...punish us if necessary.
"I am scared," Draco suddenly says, "bloody scared."
Me too. I am not going to admit that. Parkinsons don't show panic.
I open the cabinet door again, and I take out the apple for the millionth time. Wait.
"Draco!" I exclaim excitedly, "Borgin must have bitten this apple, look!" I show the side of the apple where a bite of it was clearly been bitten off.
"Finally!" Draco says, standing up, "we are so close, now all we have to do is to get this result every single time..." his voice trails off.
"We still have a lot of work to do," I conclude," but some progress can still be appreciated."
I put my hand on Draco's shoulder and we will accept our verdict...whether it is good or bad.
-----At Malfoy Manor-----
I sit down next to Draco during the Death Eater meeting, my hands sweating. I know the Dark Lord will be expecting much more progress than we've made. I know we will be punished, punished but not killed.
Mother look over at me, her face betraying no visible emotion, but before we arrived at Malfoy Manor she had hugged me and she said every comforting thing in that long hug. She said no matter what happens I will still be her daughter...even if I am not perfect.
But I WILL be perfect.
I am finally skinny to the point that Mother actually forces me to eat when I first came back to Parkinson Mansion, and I did obey Mother, but I secretly threw up the food in my bathroom right after. I can't stomach the food.
"Ah. Welcome my followers," the Dark Lord finally arrives, "I wish all of you come bearing good news for me this evening."
One by one the Death Eaters gave reports on their tasks. The ones who did good got nods of satisfaction from the Dark Lord. The ones who fail to meet his expectations either suffered from the Cruciatus Curse or bites from Nagini, the Dark Lord's beloved snake.
The Dark Lord save Draco and I for last.
"My dear children, Draco and Pansy, I hope you come here with good progress?" he asks, voice polite yet lances with menace.
"My L-l-lord," Draco stutters, "Pansy and I have been w-w-w-working on making a-"
Before Draco could finish, the Dark Lord silences him and says, "clearly Draco is too incomprehensible for us to understand what he is saying. Pansy, you tell me what you two have been doing before I lose my already fragile patience."
This is not going to end well...I know it.
I can feel every pair of eyes staring at me, my mother slip her hand under the table and squeezes my hand really hard; reminding me that I am a Parkinson and a Parkinson will show strength.
"My Lord, Draco and I have been working on making a portal between knockturn alley and Hogwarts, if successful then we will be able to transport Death Eaters into the castle," I pause here for dramatic effect, and I get the dramatic effect. Death Eaters start to whisper to each other, even the Dark Lord looks surprised.
"SHUT IT!" The Dark Lord yells, silence fell immediately, "tell us, Pansy, how can such a portal be made?"
"The vanishing cabinet in Hogwarts, my Lord," I answer, trying not to betray the panic in my voice, "Draco and I found out that the cabinet at Hogwart is connected to the one in knockturn alley."
"How is the progress so far?"
"My Lord, Draco and I have been trying tirelessly to mend the cabinet, and we have successfully vanished and brought back non-living objects, but we have yet tested the cabinet with living beings. We will conduct more tests once we get back to Hogwarts." I may have overexaggerated Draco and I's progress, but anything to make the Dark Lord a bit pleaser with us.
"So it is not certain that the cabinet can transport wizards?" he asks.
My heart drops.
"My Lord, Draco and I still working on it--" I start, but the Dark Lord already made his mind.
"Crucio!"
Draco and I shriek in agony, it feels like as if all my bones are on fire, I can barely hear the Dark Lord talking : "may this serve as a reminder to hurry and think of more ways to mend the cabinet. Your time is running out, my children."
Then, I lose consciousness, I could see my mother's terrified face as she catches me.
----Five days later-----
Everything still hurts, it hurts to move, it hurts to breathe. I don't know how I can go back to Hogwarts tomorrow when I wince every time I try to move my legs. According to Mrs.Malfoy Draco doesn't look much better than me.
"Drink this soup, Pansy," says mother, "this will help with the pain."
I dutifully sip the soup, still feeling bad about the calories in that. Good thing mother finally thinks that I am skinny enough. I know I lost noticeable weight during the holiday because for one the stress before the meeting prevented me from eating and second thanks to the Dark Lord, I physically can't eat. My school robes are so loose I feel like I could drown in them.
I like the feeling.
"I know it is unfair for me to say this to you, but...try harder to mend the cabinet, or you will die. I-I don't know what I will do if you are gone." Mother looks like she is about to cry.
Mother never showed this amount of emotion and she never cried in front of me, never. I must be in a more grave situation than I think.
"Mother," I pause because of the pain, then resumes,"you know I will, and besides a Parkinson always survives." I try to smile, but I probably end up wincing instead.
Mother hugs me, careful not to hurt me even more than I already am.
"Draco is in even worse position than you," mother says, pulling back from the hug, "after you lost consciousness, the Dark Lord used the Cruciatus Curse on him at least three more times on that poor boy."
"But why?" I ask, genuinely don't understand why the Dark Lord would need to punish Draco more.
"My girl, because Draco didn't have the courage to even tell the Dark Lord about the progress, the Dark Lord despise the coward-like behavior..." mother trails off.
"How is he?" I ask, scared for the answer I might get.
"Cissa told me over the fire that Draco woke up a day later than you and could move around without too much pain, but he will need you to be with him for a few weeks...in case of emergencies."
"I will."
"Pansy, please be safe, he is really mad."