Title:
Just Tell Me When
Author: Miz Thang
Characters/Pairing:
Pansy Parkinson, DM/PP
Rating: FRM
Word Count:
1208
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer:
I don't own anything but the little story's idea. Everything else
belongs to who it belongs to.
Summary: Pansy only
wants Draco to just tell her when. For 30hath's January 3rd-just
tell me when.
Pansy thinks about Draco Malfoy a lot more than she thought she did before. She's had the mark of the Dark Lord on her arm for days, and it still hurts every once in a while, but her mother has yet to notice the sensitivity of her arm or the fact that Pansy disappears from the house more often than not with no explanation.
Narcissa Malfoy has noticed though. She's noticed, most likely because Pansy's gone when Draco is, and she's said something to Bellatrix about recruiting "children." Bellatrix herself told Pansy and Draco, and Pansy thinks that nothing Narcissa says can change Pansy's mind. She wants to be the next Bellatrix and (she joined for Draco) she knows where her obligations lie.
His mother and his aunt get into more fights as time passes, and it's always about Pansy and Draco dying before they reach the age of eighteen, or before they find love. Bellatrix accuses Narcissa of having selfish reasons and wanting the Malfoys and Parkinsons joined in holy matrimony. Narcissa always assures Bellatirx that she doesn't know what she's talking about.
Pansy knows all of this because Draco saw fit to tell her. Draco tells her a lot of things these days.
It gives her a warm glow when she thinks about the fact that they've reached that level of maturity where they may be able to trust her. Maybe…maybe she can actually trust Draco. Maybe he was someone she could eventually love and indeed marry.
Despite Narcissa's intents, Bellatrix tells her and Draco of their first assignment dor the Dark Lord: ruin the Weasley wedding to take place the next day. Draco and Pansy spend less than an hour planning, because really it's horrendously simple. And it's something Pansy's been wanting to do since the tart first flounced into Hogwarts about three years ago.
Fleur Delacour is going to die and Pansy will make sure of it.
Draco tells her all about Crabbe, Goyle and Nott, and she realizes as they stand in some kind of circle, that they're the second generation. They're the new coming, up and ups, and one day, they'll be the ones ruling. Because Pansy only has an obligation to Draco and the Dark Lord will eventually meet his match. Pansy's waiting for the day.
They race past wards broken down over years (and conventient spells) and up long tiring stairs, but they don't lose the cold determination that they have in their hearts because they want to live and this is the way to go about it. It's not science. This is the side that will accept them for the way they are, no changes neccesary. Just a mark and a plege to a red-eyed bastard that she doesn't trust is all that's needed.
Nott watches the grounds outside, though Pansy thinks that he's probably the most capable of killing someone. Crabbe and Goyle watch over the rooms that Pansy is sure hold Harry Potter and his bunch and she sneaks along behind Draco, looking for the room off and away that holds the bride to be. Draco guesses that for tradition's sake, they'd at least place her on the opposite end of the house. Draco's right, but by now Pansy should know this.
"All we get is one try, Pans." Draco says, and there's only a slight tremor in his voice. Pansy thinks she might like it when Draco calls her that; it makes her feel special. As if she's the only one in the whole entire world that he cares about. It's not as if she's heard him give any other girl a nickname that wasn't insulting.
"Then we'd ought to make it good." She replies with a slight grin. She aims her wand at the sleeping figure on the bed. Moonlight glints on the older woman and Pansy concedes that at least the bride will look pretty when she dies, even if it's very nearly her wedding day.
Bellatrix told them that the key to the Unforgivable curses was hatred. Every single one of them required an an amount of hatred forced with it. So Pansy takes the one thing he hates the most, which happens to be having lived scared for seventeen years, not to mention anyone that would dare oppose Draco, and her mouth drops open for her to utter the killing curse.
"Avada Kedavra," leaves Draco's mouth at the same time and she's sure that, even if her oen killing curse hadn't been strong enough, combined they're way better. She almost smiles, because she's starting to have more thoughts about other things that they can probably do better together.
She has no doubt in her mind. Fleur Delacour is indeed dead.
"Draco?" she asks as he moves forward and check her pulse before nodding to her, mission accomplished.
"Pansy." He returns, joining her by the door.
"We killed her." She says and she wonders at the slight tone of amazement she can detect in her own voice.
He sends out the message that they were successful and Pansy holds out their port key (Crabbe and Goyle share one and Nott-who had the task of casting the Dark Mark into the air-has his one). He gives her and indulgent smile and, just before touching it, says, "That we did."
It seems as if it's only an instant before they reach their destination (his bedroom) and the blood is still rushing though her veins because she is still so exhilirated at just the entire event. She's killed someone, and it feels great and she's actually proud of herself. "I think…I think I like it." She says.
They take off their masks, both their faces flushed from it all.
He watches her as she suddenly starts to laugh, if a bit hysterically at it all, and doesn't say anything for the longest moment. And then, just when she's starting to calm down, he says in all seriousness, "Pansy. You're going to marry me one day, do you know that?"
Not, " will you marry me?" Not, "are you going to marry me?"
You are going to marry me.
Pansy almost wonders if this is what love feels like (maybe they're just searching for romance and somebody to love after ruining a weddiing). Some part of her doesn't think that that's all to the story though.
She steps forward, more in his personal space than she's ever been in her entire life. And she kisses him. In reflection, every kiss, no matter how twin-like a romantic says they are, is different. Because it has to be. Whether in experience or the emotions attached, both just so happening to be the case here.
Their first kiss was when they were fourteen and Draco was the boy her mother wanted her to marry and that she went out with because any other boy in Slytherin just wasn't outlandish enough, or didn't make enough noise. But now, now she's seventeen and she'll be eighteen in October and-
This is different.
She smiles at him after, maybe if a bit shyly, and she wonders for a moment if she is actually going to fall in love (because since when did arranged marraiges involve love anymore?). Draco even returns the smile.
"Just tell me when."
