Couple
by : epiphanies
Her tears had always embarrassed him, ever since they were four and she fell off his balcony. She'd fallen right into her father's arms, and hadn't been hurt, but she was frightened and cried for hours. He'd stayed in his room. When they were nine, and he got his Hogwarts acceptance letter before she did, she'd cried then, too. She'd run to her room when ran across the street to show her, and he sat in her living room eating oatmeal cookies for half the afternoon waiting for her to finish.
Her tears were embarrassing him now, too, but for different reasons. This time it was his fault.
He stroked her hair and averted his eyes to the ceiling of her otherwise restricted dormitory as she stuffed her face into her satin green pillow.
"Pansy," he tried to explain, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that you were ugly-"
"Except you said it in front of everybody!" he could hear her muffled accusation through the pillow, "And they all know we're betrothed, and now we're going to have a dysfunctional marriage for the rest of our bloody lives!"
"What makes you think that?"
She shot upward furiously, surprising him, and he returned his hand to his lap. Glaring, she searched his face.
"What?" he said finally, then pulled back.
Her face was set.
"You called me a cow."
"I always call you a cow."
"In front of everyone!"
"I always call you a cow, Panse, it doesn't mean anything!"
"Like bloody hell, it doesn't, Draco!" she screeched, "It never meant anything, no, not until your parents and my parents made this stupid bargain that ties us to each other in ways we don't even want to think about yet, and every since it got around the school that eventually Parkinson will merge with Malfoy, people have been watching us like hawks. Really, Draco, if you hadn't noticed-"
"I've noticed," he interrupted, "but I can't say I care."
She sighed heavily, "Why not?"
He shrugged, and leaned back (feeling more comfortable now she wasn't crying,) "People are people, and they say what they say. Besides, all couples bicker."
"But we're not a couple yet," she reminded him, wiping her cheeks of the tears and calming herself a bit, "We're just betrothed."
"Exactly, so why are you so worried?"
"People are people, Draco. We're people. We grow into people. People talk, people gossip, people remember."
"And so what if they do remember?" Draco's eyebrows creased, "You don't honestly think we school with anybody who will be very important, do you?"
She considered it, then shook her head.
"Then why are you so barking about it?"
She quirked an eyebrow at him.
"You know, I really couldn't say. Except I do hope you won't be sentenced to marry someone you think is utterly repulsive."
He laughed, "You don't honestly think that."
"Don't I?"
He regarded her, and she made doe eyes.
"You're not a cow," he said, resigned. She smiled.
"You don't think I'm ugly, or utterly repulsive?"
He smirked, "Well, of course not yet. Not until the wrinkles come."
She smacked him playfully, "Right, well, I won't be the only one with wrinkles."
"I'm not getting wrinkly until I reach one hundred and seven. Its genetic."
"Unless you get thrown in jail."
"My father is haggard, not wrinkly."
She flipped her hair, "Details, details."
"Well, at least you won't be all dry-skinned like the apple dolls your mother keeps out of odd and frightening obsession."
"Why is that?"
"Well, if you keep on crying like you do-"
"Oh, sod off."
He stood up and stretched before turning to the door, "See, now its like married life."
"Only without the perks." she called, and he stopped short.
"Ohhh you little minx, I see where you're going."
She laughed, "Yeah, well, keep looking. We're not going to reach that for quite awhile."
"I might learn to cry."
"Draco, I believe it."