#rosierwed

“Aunt Ivy?” The two were no more related than any other pureblood pair. However, Pansy had hit it off with her when she was a little girl and saw the beautiful cloak she wore to an event. She had tugged at it before her mother yanked her away, telling her off for bothering the nice woman. Ivy had just smiled at her. The woman had been the mother Pansy never had. Now, she was there. Much younger and still fashionable. “Well, I suppose this explains why you missed shopping last week. I’m Pansy. Pansy Parkinson. We’re sort of... friends.”