Spoilers: If you are yet to read book seven then you might not want to read this.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, it's JKR.
Characters: Vincent Crabbe, Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy, Millicent Bulstrode.
Pairings: Crabbe/Pansy, Draco/Pansy.
AN: I've had this thought in my mind for awhie, I'm not sure it's been done, but I've often wondered about the fallout from Crabbe's death, so I wrote this. I really love this, and I hope you do too. It's pretty much as cannon as possible with these characters. Oh italics are flashbacks.
Paint It Black
Draco is walking towards her, his head is down, and he doesn't seem aware of anything that surrounds him. He doesn't seem aware of all the Mudbloods and Blood Traitors who are celebrating the fall of the Dark Lord. He's walking watching his shoes as though they are the most interesting thing in the world. He doesn't look up, it seems as though he can't bring himself to do so.
That's how she knows something is wrong. Draco is not the kind of guy who walks with his head bowed low, he holds his head high. He walks with pride and confidence. He doesn't squirm or look down; he is not a coward and he does not have the poise of one. He's arrogant, and he does as he pleases. She knows his personality well, after all she is marry Draco once Hogwarts ends. She knows he thinks he's god's gift to creation, and she knows that he has no problem committing sins without guilt. There is nothing that can take Draco's prideful stride away, so for him to be walking as a coward is bloodcurdling.
He comes toward her, and finally lifts his head enough so that he can reach her eyes. As she looks into his grey eyes she can see that he's been crying, and that's shocking to her. She's never seen Draco cry, and she's not so sure she likes it. He continues to make eye contact, when he feels as though the contact is secure, he whispers, "Pansy, its Crabbe…he's well, he's dead."
Pansy Parkinson's heart shattered into a million pieces in that moment.
The Slytherin Commonroom was empty. Draco had gone off to fuck some girl and left Pansy by herself. She was contemplating how to entertain herself when the door crashed open. Malfoy's idiot friend Crabbe came bursting in, Pansy sighed, at least she had something to entertain herself with.
"Oi Crabbe, shouldn't you be enjoying some grub in the Great Hall with Goyle? I mean I thought that was all you did." Pansy mocked, she saw him turn to face her, he looked angry. His chubby cheeks were turning red in fury.
"Shut up Parkinson!" He snapped.
Pansy grinned, once she knew she was getting somewhere in her torment, she couldn't stop, "Aw Vince you look like a Weasley when you get angry!"
He glared, "I'm warning you Pansy, shut the fuck up!"
"See Crabbe all evidence would point to the fact that the only activity you actively participate in is eating. I mean your grades get lower, and your stomach gets bigger." She taunted evilly.
This caused Crabbe to snap, his eyes bulged out, and his face was such a bright red anybody who wasn't colorblind would assume that he had taken a field trip to the sun, "At least I'm not a pug-faced bitch who can't even get her betrothed to fuck her."
Pansy looks at him, she can't say anything. She knows it's true, and there's no witty comeback that she can shoot at Crabbe that can beat the cold hard truth. There's nothing she can say that can make her feel better. She is a pug-faced bitch, who can't convince Draco to sleep with her. She stared blankly at Crabbe, her eyes didn't water, and she didn't blink. He seemed to see the misery he was causing her though, because a few seconds later, he took a seat next to her, wrapped his arms around her, and whispered, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
She let him keep holding her whispering in her hair, because she wasn't sure she'd survive without a human touch.
She listens as Draco tells her what happened. She listens as Draco tells her how he died. Crabbe had finally gotten the confidence he needed to prove himself worthy, or he had finally snapped after being called a coward for so long.
He used fiendfyre. He had tried to kill Potter. He had fulfilled his obligations as a Death Eater. Pansy was proud of him, he'd finally done it, he'd finally found his courage.
Yet he was dead, and it was his entire fault. He shouldn't have used a curse that he didn't know how to control. He should have paid attention in class when they taught how to counteract the curse.
Draco stares at her, waiting for her response to what he just told her. He is probably scanning her eyes for tears, but Pansy won't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her cry no matter how much she wants to.
Instead she says, "He deserved to die, then. He did everything wrong."
Draco stares at her blankly. He is obviously shocked by her attitude, and hurt by her insult of his late friend. He glares at her, "You bitch."
He pulls her aside as Hagrid releases the class. She looks at him angrily, and he stares back at her, "What the bloody hell was that about?"
"I don't know what you're talking about Crabbe." Pansy snapped.
"How about trying to feed me to that god damn monster?" Crabbe yelled. He seemed incredibly annoyed. He seemed so irritated that if you were to get too close, you might get your neck snapped.
"I did not!" She protested.
"You went as far to lead it on towards me; hell I'd be dead if it weren't for the great lard of man pulling me off." Crabbe shouted pointing to Hagrid.
Pansy smirks, "Better you than me!"
"Why would you do something like that Parkinson? I mean, I have pureblood, so why would you try to have me killed off?" He growls.
"I thought that thing would have a feast with you, I mean you're large after all." She hissed, "It'd be a very filling meal."
"Shut up." He bellowed angrily. He hated when someone bought up his weight, and Pansy knew that. But that was the fun of mocking Crabbe about his weight.
"Make me!" She challenged.
He ran up to her, and for a moment she was scared he was going to push her down, or grab her and shake her. However as he got closer he takes her face in his hand, and presses his lips against hers.
She goes into her dorm, and throws her things into a trunk. She doesn't know where she's going to go. Now that the Dark Lord lost, her father will surely be arrested. The idea of spending time alone with her mother is unbearable.
She can barely breathe right now, without her mother insulting every decision she makes. Although it's nothing new, everyone in her life made her feel like dirt. They chose boys over her. They chose other girls instead of her. The teacher's fought she was dumb. They all thought she was a bitch.
None of them knew her.
Except him.
But he's dead, and she's alone in a world that doesn't understand her.
She's sitting on his bed tutoring him in Charms, it's one of the only subjects Pansy understands, and it's one of the many that Crabbe can't seem to grasp. She jokes around with her friends that having to tutor him is only so that the Dark Lord can have more servants. In reality, she knows that's not it, but she doesn't know why she constantly goes to the Slytherin boy dorms to help Crabbe. She doesn't know why she goes up there, when she knows what's going to happen. Crabbe will kiss her, and move on to more advanced stages, and she won't stop him. She doesn't know why she doesn't stop him.
"So you say it like Ave-is, and the birds will come out of your wand no problem." She looks at him, and he's staring into space. He's not looking at her, or trying to get close to her. He is just staring blankly, "Okay what's wrong?"
He doesn't look at her, and simply asks in a quiet tone, "Why do you think something's wrong?"
"Because you're not trying to get down my pants." Pansy responds.
"Is that what you think?" He whispers, "Do you think all I want is to get in your pants?"
She shrugs, "I don't know, it's just usually your trying to seduce me, and today you're not."
"I feel like such a pervert Pansy." He tells her sadly, "I always am the one who kisses you first, who pushes you. And what if you don't want that? What if you don't enjoy it? I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you. I need you to initiate it, so I know."
She frowns, "I can't." And she couldn't, Pansy did not let people tell her what to do, she did not do anything because someone told her too. She didn't talk about what she liked. She doesn't do feelings; people who do feelings get hurt.
"Why not?" He asks nervously.
"I just…" She pauses, "I just can't."
He nods his head, and frowns. He looks at the floor, and then tells her, "Well then make it easy on me, and leave."
And for some reason she stands there, and looks at him. She can't move, because she can't leave it behind. The animal instinct within her takes over, and she walks up to him, and gives him, a kiss on the cheek. It's not much, but it's all she can offer him right now.
He understands, and leads her towards the bed.
She got home, and took right to her bed. Her mother barely noticed she slipped through the door, before Pansy had went into her bed, and done nothing but lie there, and feel sorry for herself. The bed seems colder than it had for the past few years of her life. Weren't beds supposed to be warm and comfortable, not cold and empty?
The only thing keeping Pansy alive was the water, and cracker that she would have per day. It was all she could do to tolerate that food. The maid stopped coming up every hour, to coming everyday at six o'clock. The maid knew that Pansy would eat to keep herself alive, and didn't feel the need to accost her every hour to put food in her mouth.
Her mother had said that Pansy had fallen ill after the war. Her mother thought it was true, and Pansy supposed it wasn't the biggest lie she could tell. Pansy was sick; she had never taken to her bed because someone had died for being an idiot.
Her mother would send a medi-wizard in once in awhile, and Pansy would threaten to hex them if they did not let her be.
She needed to be by herself, it was the only way she could mourn Crabbe.
The sun is shining brightly; they've been keeping their relationship hidden for five months. No one knew that Crabbe and Pansy were anything more than friends. He walks with her to the lake, and she constantly looks over her shoulder to make sure there's no one around. To make sure that no one can find out.
She takes a seat on the shore, and he sits next to her. He keeps a safe distance away from her, knowing that if he's too close she'll smack him. She turns her attention to him momentarily, before turning to examine a third year Slytherin bothering a Gryffindor; she chuckled as the Gryffindor's face began blowing up like that girl with the blueberry head in Willy Wonka. Crabbe doesn't watch on, instead he watches the ripples in the lake, and says, "I love you."
This manages to get Pansy's attention, and she turns and stares him down,"What did you say?"
"I love you." He repeats.
Pansy shakes her head, "Like hell you do."
Pansy knew that Potter would be here celebrating with Weasel, Granger, and the Weaslette. That's why she had bought Millicent out to the Leaky Cauldron. Although Millicent thought it was to celebrate her last weekend as a single witch. In reality Pansy doubted the wedding was still on, but she didn't mention this tiny detail to Millicent.
Millicent orders their drinks, and Pansy grins at Millicent's jokes all the while keeping her eyes open for Potter. She spots him at a round table surrounded by his closest friends. They're sitting around enjoying life, and being grateful that they won. Pansy frowns, and excuses herself for a moment. She carries her wand with her, and heads towards the table. As she approaches the Weaslette points her out and the trio turn and glare at her.
"What do you want Parkinson?" Granger demands.
Pansy ignores Hermione, and turns toward Harry, "I'm going to kill you Potter, you killed Crabbe. Now I'm going to kill you." The word is coming to her breath when suddenly her wand is taken out of her. She is grabbed, and carried outside. The whole bar is in a panic, thanks to her. She continues to scream over her back, "I'm going to kill you, Potter!"
"She's bloody mental that one." Weasley says causally.
She's drunk. She hadn't meant for it to happen, but once the first drink was placed in front of her, she couldn't say no to the third, fifth, or eighth one. Millicent had told her that they had needed to go out, and have a girl's night. In reality, Millicent wanted to get ridiculously drunk, after Malfoy had went for some other girl, and didn't want to go by herself. Pansy could understand that. So they went out, and got completely utterly wasted.
Pansy wasn't sure how she had gotten back to the castle without getting caught. She must have stumbled, and fallen her whole way back to the commonroom. When she enters the room, Crabbe is sitting in the lone armchair, and she smiles at the sight of him.
She walks over to him, and kisses him hard against the lips, not really caring who sees. He pulls away from her, and asks, "How many drinks did you have?"
She tries to show him with her hands, but the plan causes her to lose balance. He steadies her, and helps her up the stairs to the girl dormitories. She giggles all the way up. When they reach the dorms he settles her in her bed, wraps the blanket over her.
"Vinceeent." She slurs.
"Mmhmm?" He inquires.
"You're too nice to be a Slytherin." Pansy informs him, "I would have made you a Hufflepuff."
He sighs, this isn't the first time he's heard this, but instead of getting offended, he shrugs, and says, "Goodnight."
"Crabbe?" She asks.
"Yeah?" He replies.
"Stay." She orders, and he sits down by her bedside, and stays with her, because it was the only thing she'd ever asked her for.
She is outside now and she faces the man who stopped her from killing Potter. It's Malfoy. She glares at him, "Why the bloody hell did you stop me from killing him? Out of all these people you should understand why I had to kill him!"
"Potter didn't kill Crabbe." Malfoy whispered, "If anything he tried to save him. Look, I don't like Potter but he doesn't deserve to die for this."
Pansy knows she can't argue with Draco, afterall he was there so they stand in silence until she asks,"How long have you know about Crabbe and I?"
"A good year." He shrugged.
"Oh." Pansy said, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Draco replied.
"I can't marry you." She said, "It'd just be too hard."
"I figured." He assured her.
She nodded, and awkwardly said goodbye before she apparated.
"I love you." She says, as they're lying in bed right after sex. He has his hand around her bare waist, and she's not sure why she chose this moment to release the information.
He gives her an appraising look, and asks her, "Yeah?"
She shrugs, "I guess so."
He laughed, and they just laid there for a few minutes, and then he asks her, "When are you getting married?"
"This summer," Pansy answers nonchalantly.
"Oh." Crabbe says.
"Yeah." Pansy replies awkwardly.
"Don't do it." Crabbe tells her.
"Excuse me?" She questions.
He's more collected now, and says, "Don't marry Draco Malfoy."
"I have no choice in the matter, it was set up when we were born, I can't just say no." She reminds him.
"Why not, you're not losing anything." He persists, "If you say no to Malfoy, then you'll marry me. I'm pureblooded."
"I don't think my parents will see it that way," Pansy states.
"Why the hell not?" Crabbe snaps.
She sighs, "Because I would have made them look bad by backing out of a deal."
"Shouldn't you be happy?" He demands.
"You know that's not how it works." Pansy tells him.
"Why not?" He questions.
"Lucius Malfoy would kill me if I turned down his son." Pansy snaps.
"I'll protect you," Crabbe promises.
There are cries from downstairs in the commonroom. Someone yells up the boy's dormitories, "The Dark Lord is coming, join the fight."
Pansy begins slipping into clothes at this as does Crabbe. As he pulls his robes over himself, he asks, "So?"
"You couldn't protect me. You're not brave enough to. You're too nice to do anything severe. I'm marrying Draco Malfoy." She decides.
He sighs. "So I guess this is it."
She doesn't say anything; she just simply leaves the dormitory, and heads out towards the battle.
She's at his gravesite. It's fairly hidden, because if it were too visible, then people would disrespect it. Crabbe had died in direct opposition of the Order. She sat down onto his bed, and sighed.
She wasn't made for this sentimental crap. She wasn't made for standing at the grave of her slain lover, and talking to wind. It was all much too much for her. She couldn't cry, and whine about how much she missed him. She couldn't tell him she loved him or that she had ended her engagement with Malfoy. She wasn't about to kill herself so that they could reunite in the after life.
So she stood there and stared at his stone. There were no tears in her eyes or words on her tongue. She just stood there, and looked at his gravestone.
It was the most sentiment she could handle, and she figured Crabbe understood that.
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