Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series. All rights belong to J.K Rowling.

Warnings: This story contains references to rape and abuse. Curse words are used.

Monster

Pansy inhaled deeply as she nervously surveyed the empty Slytherin common room. She didn't want to do this, she really didn't. The pain was still fresh, and all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry. But life for Pansy Parkinson just didn't work that way. Many saw her as the spoiled brat from the rich pureblood family, the girl who had it all, the Slytherin ice queen. No one saw the scared little girl beneath the hard exterior, no one looked closely enough to see the horrors that she had witnessed, and she really didn't want them to. As long as no one knew what had happened to her, she could still come away with her pride and dignity. But not this time.

As soon as she had received the news, Pansy knew what she had to do. She wouldn't do it because she wanted to, and she wouldn't do it for herself. She would do it to hopefully save the life and preserve the innocence of a little girl. Pansy was broken, she had been for a long time, and although it made her give up just about everything else, it had only given her more drive to save those who weren't already broken beyond repair.

These were the reasons why Pansy Parkinson was sitting perched on the edge of a black leather couch in the corner of the Slytherin common room. She was waiting for Draco Malfoy. Contrary to popular belief, Pansy had never much liked Draco, but at the same time, the two shared a deep understanding. They had both been exposed to the horrors that defined the pureblood society from a very young age, and those shared experiences ran deeper than any friendship ever could.

Although Draco had grown up in a family that was just as strict, if not more so than the Parkinsons, the fact remained that he was male. The pureblood society had a medieval view of the world, and being female, especially during these times was not easy. Pansy thought that Draco understood this at least a little bit, considering what his mother continued to go through. But apparently, it hadn't really hit home. He didn't see what his decisions had the power to do, he didn't see how stained Pansy, and most other pureblood women were, and he didn't see that his precious little sister would probably end up the same way if he didn't do anything about it.

Pansy was desperate. She needed to make him see. She had never done an honourable thing in her life, and she hadn't thought she ever would, but this was different. It was different because she knew how it felt to feel that helpless, that humiliated, that dirty. She would never wish those horrible feelings on another, and now that she had the power to save one person, she would do her utmost to see that it happened.

Light footsteps interrupted Pansy from her inner musings. She looked up to see Draco Malfoy crossing the common room to sit in the chair opposite her. She took another unnecessarily deep breath. She could do this. She had to.

"Draco, thank you for coming," Her voice was hoarse.

He raised one pale eyebrow. While they hadn't hated each other, they weren't exactly the best of friends. The polite pleasantries were distinctly out of character.

"I admit I was surprised when I received your owl. What is this most pressing matter that you so adamantly needed to speak with me about?" His tone was light, cordial, but she could see the curiosity in his eyes.

"I…I heard the news," She has hoped to work up to it, use her skills of persuasion to her advantage. She had not intended to be so blunt, but it was out, and there was nothing she could do to take it back.

She saw his eyes narrow and his back stiffen. Classic angry Draco signs. She would have to tread carefully.

"That is none of your business, Pansy, and you know it," His voice was low, dangerous, and she swore she saw him pull his left arm closer in to his side.

"You know just as well as I do that receiving the Dark Mark affects more than just yourself. You're one of them now, Draco! You'll be expected to keep tradition, fulfil customs, and participate in their little games! I don't think you know the extent of what you've gotten yourself in to. I just don't think you understand," Pansy could feel tears building behind her eyes, but she fought to push them back. She would not cry, not now.

"Don't pretend to be so all knowing! You think I'm not aware of what I did? You think I don't know the ramifications? I chose this, Pansy, and I don't regret my position. I am the one with the Mark tattooed in to my skin, you don't get to make judgements. Is this what you called me down here for? To judge me?" He hissed at her, his voice a low whisper, his hands clenched in tight fists at his side.

"No, Draco, no. I… I wanted to warn you, but I'm not sure how much good it will do now," She was whispering even more quietly than he, her eyes cast downwards.

"Warn me? What are you on about, Pansy? You should be happy for me! This is a good thing. I'm already working my way up the ranks, earning the Dark Lord's favour. If all goes well…" He had brightened considerably, and Pansy could see the childlike excitement that lit up his eyes. Suddenly, she was angry. Very, very angry. Draco was young, naïve; he couldn't see what he was doing to himself, to his family, to her!

Pansy jumped to her feet abruptly. He needed to know. She was done protecting him, done trying to make everything sound better than it was. Their existence was bleak, she knew that, but Draco was buying in to the smoke screen of glory and honour. He had to see.

"No, Draco! You just don't understand! You don't see what you've done, do you? This life isn't rainbows and sunshine! You will kill people, you will hurt people, and people will hurt you. Do you want that? What about your family? Your father may be proud of you, but who will care about that when he's thrown in to Azkaban for the rest of his life? What about your mother? She may tell you she's proud of you, but we both know that's only because your father is waiting around the corner waiting to beat her in to submission again!" Pansy was seething. She needed to get it all out. She could see Draco getting angrier and angrier, but she didn't care. This wasn't about him; it was about the people he cared about.

"What about Vivica, Draco? What about your eight-year-old sister? You do know what will happen when she's older, right?"

"Stop Pansy. Stop right now before you get hurt," He was on his feet, towering over her small frame.

"Hurt? Hurt, Draco? Are you going to hurt me? Is that the kind of man you've become? Well you know what, I don't really care. Do your worst! I guarantee that anything you can do to me has been done before. Beat me, rape me, torture me, it all comes with the fucking territory!" Pansy immediately put a hand over her mouth. She hadn't meant to let that much out. No one was supposed to know.

The look of shock on Draco's face was worth the mistake. If this was the only way she could get through to him, then she would do it. Fuck her pride. She wouldn't let a little girl suffer for pride.

"Didn't anticipate that, did you? These people, the people who I'm sure you look up to, they're monsters, all of them. No one is safe. It's practically a sport for Death Eaters to go around raping little girls, Draco. Could you do that? Could you brutalize someone so helpless in such a way? Don't tell me it isn't true, that it doesn't happen, because I know first hand that it does. Would you like me to name names, names of the victims of these little games? Most of the girls in the entire fucking Slytherin house would be on that list. And you know who would be on the very top? Pansy fucking Parkinson. It happens Draco, and they'll make you do it too. They'll may make you force some poor little muggle girl, or they may tell you to have your fun with someone you know. Daphne, Millicent, Astoria, maybe even me. Look at me right now and tell me you could do it. Look at me,"

He seemed to take a deep breath as he raised his head, skewering her with those silver eyes.

"If that's all you've got to say, Parkinson, then I'll be going now," His voice was hoarse, and although he had a stony cold expression on his face, Pansy could clearly see the sadness and disgust in his eyes.

But it wasn't enough. She had hoped she could sway him, hoped that he would be too horrified to carry on. She had underestimated him. He was stronger than she had thought, and more loyal than she could have imagined. She hated to do what she was about to, but she knew she had too. It was her last chance.

"No, Draco, that wasn't all I had to tell you. You can connect the dots, can't you? Don't you see where this is going? You know how the pureblood society works almost as well as I do. What happens when you mess up? What happens when you make the inevitable mistake? Your mother won't be spared, Vivica won't be spared, Draco! If you continue like this, your sweet, innocent little sister will turn out just like me! Look at me Draco! I am broken, inside and out. I've been used and ruined. Don't let it happen again, don't condemn her. You're the only one with the power to save her. Use it. Please Draco, use it God damnit!" Pansy's voice rose hysterically as tears fell rapidly down her cheeks.

The desperation was horrible. She had never felt so despondent in her entire life. She had to make him see… she had to make him break out of the stone mould he was so firmly affixed in. Pansy couldn't help herself; it was like some other force had taken over her body. She felt her fists rise and bang against Draco's chest with as much force as her small, weak hands could manage. His chest was as hard as stone, just like the rest of him. She didn't know how long she stood there in front of him, hitting him for all she was worth, tears streaming wildly down her face.

He was unyielding. Never flinching, never showing any weakness, any sign that she was affecting him any way. Finally, he had had enough. He grabbed both her wrists in one of his large hands, effectively stopping her assault on his body.

"I'm doing the best I can under the circumstances here, Pansy. You think my family would be any better off if I refused to join the Dark Lord? You honestly think my sister would be safe then? I know it's wrong, what they do, what my father does. But if hurting people is what it takes to save my mother and sister, then so be it. That, Pansy is the only power I have. This is the life I must live, I don't have a choice," His grip on her wrists became bruisingly tight as the conviction in his words grew.

Pansy could see him slipping; he was drawing away from her, body and mind.

"No Draco! You always have a choice! Go to Dumbledore, tell him everything! Please!" Her voice had become shrill and high, laced with desperation.

He did not turn around. Draco Malfoy continued to walk away from her, his posture straight and regal as always, not a hair out of place, taking with him any semblance of hope she might have had. Pansy had failed. All was lost. Bowing her head, Pansy let her hands drop and her shoulders slump. It was all over.

"Please Draco, please," Her voice was quiet, a mere breathy whisper.

"Don't become a monster,"

With that, Pansy Parkinson fell to her knees; feeling everything she had wanted, everything she had believed in, fall with her.

FIN