Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, so please don't sue me.


Love is Just a Game

by Pencil

Chapter One: Heartbreaker

"My dear," Draco Malfoy purred sensuously. "Why, of course I love you." He reclined in the plush leather seat, grinning inwardly as he watched Pansy Parkinson take the bait.

"Oh," she breathed, her fat cheeks expanding with flustered delight. "Oh, my dear, sweet ickle Drackey-wakey bear! You've no idea what a happy bride you'll make me—when we're engaged, of course," she added hastily. "Oh my little honey nookums!" She enveloped Draco in a lung-crushing embrace before pulling away, her eyes round and questioning. "Will you love me forever and ever, cabbage patch? Even if I get old and wrinkly?"

Draco avoided the urge to roll his eyes, and instead swept her oily blonde hair to the side in what he hoped was a loving gesture. "Nothing could keep my love from ever-growing, my little…er…fumblemoofie."

A glowing smile shone across Pansy's face and she leaned her head against Draco's shoulder, staring off into the glowing embers of the fireplace. "Oh, isn't this so romantic? I've always dreamed that this moment would come and now it has!"

"However," Draco interjected as Pansy appeared to be on the verge of drooling on his finely pressed robes. "These clothes cost me more than the price of Hogwarts' castle, so I'd kindly appreciate if you removed your greasy head before it leaves a stain."

Draco had hardly realized the words he had said before Pansy was on her feet with an accusatory finger pointed at Draco's beautifully sculpted nose.

"You don't really love me, do you, schnookiewookie bear?"

A few Slytherins looked up from their homework, but instantly appeared highly interested in the floor when Pansy glared their way. "You—lied—to me,—Drackey," Pansy bit out between a clenched jaw.

"No one is lying, my---er, poofiemunch! I really do love you, so very much. My soul knows yours like the way I know my Transfiguration homework is in my backpack next to my Potions homework. My heart yearns for yours like Crabbe's spoon as he scrapes the bottom of his soup bowl, even though there is nothing left inside. My body needs yours like we all need food and air to survive, unless you're a vampire, in which case you just need blood, which incidentally is also like the need my body feels for yours. And my love for you is as strong and powerful as a…really powerful, strong thing. So you must see, my dear Pansy, that I really do love you." Draco gasped for air after this monologue, but inwardly congratulated himself. It had turned out quite lovely, really, perhaps like Shakespeare's earlier work.

"Oh Draco," Pansy breathed, so surprised and touched that she didn't have time to think of a creative pet name. "That was, like, really pretty poetry." She gasped with glee. "You should write a poem book and dedicate it to me!"

"Gladly, my little flowering grub."

Pansy missed the tactless pet name in her sudden effort to devour Draco's ear with tiny, wet kisses. Draco felt violated, but let her continue her endeavor valiantly until he could finally take no more soggy slurping sounds. "Dear, sweet, Pansy? Let's not forget we're in public and this might be going a bit too far." He gestured towards his now drool-drenched lobe, and discreetly fetched a handkerchief as she looked around the room with surprise.

"Oh my goodness, I didn't realize we were still in the common room! Well, we had better just bring this little munch-session upstairs, now, shouldn't we?"

"NO!" Draco bellowed without thinking. "Er, I mean, darling, think of what our classmates would say if they saw us leaving together like this."

She looked thoughtful. "They'd say 'Way to go, Pansy'?"

"Or 'What a slut.'"

A look of horror passed across Pansy's face, and Draco found that it was equally horrifying to watch, as it made her nostrils flare like a pair of bell-bottom jeans. Then Pansy gasped, and once again a bony, accusing finger pointed in his face like a dagger. "You're just saying that, Drackey, because you don't want to sleep with me! You don't love me!" Her face melted. "Who is she, Draco? Who is she?"

Draco arched an eyebrow in mute surprise, though couldn't deny that he was slightly relieved. "Who is who, my plump little sweetpea?"

"The girl you're cheating on me with!" she shrieked. "The girl you're obviously shagging, since it's common knowledge that the only reason a guy won't shag a girl is if he's shagging someone else. So who is she?"

Draco had to give Pansy credit. Her hypothesis did sound promising, especially since there wasn't a time when Draco wasn't shagging someone else on the side. However, just this once she was wrong. "You haven't taken into account the idea that I might not want to shag you because I find you as attractive as Goyle," he pointed out.

Pansy's face turned purple. "So you don't really love me!" She looked thoughtful. "Either that, or you're secretly in love with Goyle…" She contemplated the thought for a moment before throwing a pillow at his face, missing by a foot.

"If you aren't in love with me, Draco Malfoy, then who are you in love with? I swear to Merlin when I find out, I'll hex her bony little arse into next week!"

Draco could see that this pursuit was going nowhere, and that the majority of the Slytherin common room was now watching the pair with unabashed fascination. Draco decided to give the people what they wanted and throw on a bit of a show. He leaned back casually in his seat and ran a hand through his silky hair. "Do you really want to know who I'm in love with?"

A blue vein bulged on the side of Pansy's neck. "Yes. Tell me."

"Neville Longbottom," he said with a straight face. "It was his dashingly sharp wit that wooed me."

For one precious second it looked as if Pansy believed him, and then the common room erupted in laughter and Draco mentally gave himself a pat on the back. Pansy still didn't look satiated, though.

"If I throw a stick, will you leave, Parkinson?"

Pansy looked both hurt at the implication and horrified at the surname address. She stood there, gawking, before she whipped around on her heels and stomped out noisily. Draco grinned, fancied himself quite the heartbreaker, and then slid up to his Headboy room with an extra saunter in his step.

Little did he know the chain of events that he had just begun….

A/N: What do you think? Should I keep writing? Leave a review and let me know! (Oh, and the D/Hr romance will kick off shortly, I promise!) Love, Pencil