Two of a Kind
DISCLAIMER: We do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters therein. We do, however, own Persiopeia Black and all other original characters created for this story.
Chapter 3: How Could This Happen!
My first few weeks of term went by rather quickly. The sorting hat put some uninteresting-looking candidates into Slytherin House, but they weren't my worry. My worry was the fact that I hadn't sent any owl to my parents. When they finally get around to sending me an owl, I figure I'll blame the whole thing on being too busy with classes and studying for my OWLs, which are happening at the end of the term.
I was in the middle of a rather difficult potion, waiting for it to change from sickly green to sickening green when an owl flew into the room through the open door. I wasn't paying it any mind, not until it swooped down and dropped a howler on my book.
"Bloody ballocks! What the hell is this about?" I screamed, tearing my eyes away from my potion. Professor Snape snapped his eyes towards me.
"Twenty points from – Black, that's a howler! Get it out of my classroom right now!" Professor Snape ordered me out of class, but not before Pansy Parkinson could add her two cents.
"I wonder why dear Persy would get a howler? It wouldn't be like her to not contact mummy and daddy, now would it?" Pansy sneered. I stopped in my tracks as I analyzed what she meant.
"You dipshit! D'you know what you've done?" I yelled as I headed for a prefects' bathroom, needing the privacy for what I knew would be a howler about Draco Malfoy. I braced myself as I slid to the floor beside the sinks in the spacious bathroom.
My worst fears were confirmed as I opened the bright red missive from my father and mother.
"Persiopeia Cornelia Black! You did not inform us that Draco Malfoy was your other prefect! On your next free weekend, you and Draco will both be traveling home for a meeting with the two families. You will not fuck this match up, do you hear me? You will do as told this time around, or I'll marry you to a Weasley, I swear it!" my father was obviously the one who had recorded this howler.
I slumped against the wall, tears running down my cheeks. My family would succeed in marrying me off, there was no escaping it. But to Draco Malfoy? That was a fate worse than death. I hate him!
Don't I?
One week later, I was in my family's oldest fireplace, courtesy of Dumbledore, Snape, and the Floo Network. Draco had apparently left the school before I had, because he and his parents were seated opposite my own parents in our parlor when I arrived.
"Mum, Father, I can explain. I was busy with classes, and I figured you'd guess that Draco was—" my father cut me off before I could explain myself.
"No need to lie to us, Persiopeia, dear. We have invited Draco and his parents here in hopes of arranging a match between the two of you. So sit down and look pretty," my father said with saccharine in his voice. "At least try to look pretty… Have you put on even more weight since the term began? Here's a clue: put the fork down!" he hissed in my ear as I sat next to him.
My father pinched my left breast discreetly as I seated myself. It was a silent reminder that at fifteen, I was more buxom than my own mother was after having me. In my family, a slender figure was more than admired: it was required. My early breasts had long been trouble for me, and it seemed like they would become even more so in the coming deliberations.
"While I appreciate the invitation, cousin dear," Narcissa Malfoy addressed my father, "It hardly seems fair to have taken you up on it when we already have a girl picked out for our darling boy, and her family agreed just before we left to come here."
My mother had a strangled look. Draco looked indifferent. His father smirked… I could see where Draco had gotten his from. My father plastered a smile on his face.
"Well, then, at least we can be the first to offer our congratulations. Well, I guess you've let another opportunity slip straight through your fingers, Persy," my father sneered at me. A tear of shock rolled down my cheek as my stomach roiled: he'd never attacked me in front of other people before. My, times had changed.
I looked around, trying to find a kind eye. Draco made an almost invisible gesture to me. I searched his face, and as I looked into his eyes, I saw a slight discoloration that I knew all too well: Draco had just gotten the shit beaten out of him by someone. He gave me an imperceptible nod of sympathy, then rose with his parents to leave.
"Umm, Narcissa," my mother began timidly.
"What do you want to know?" my father turned on my mother.
"Who are you betrothing Draco to?" my mother finished.
Narcissa stopped in her tracks. She looked at her husband, and when he nodded, she finally answered my mother.
"Pansy Parkinson."
"Hahaha!" I couldn't stop laughing. I just couldn't stop laughing when my dear, distant Cousin Narcissa blithely announced that her darling Draco would be marrying one of the most unattractive, insipid, untalented witches a pureblooded family had ever produced. Even with all my father had subjected me to during that brief meeting, I still found hilarity in the fact that my biggest rival had literally been sentenced to a marriage of breeding alone.
Luckily for me, the Malfoys were already out of the parlor when I cracked up. My father hit me hard across the mouth for my troubles.
"Shut your mouth, you insolent, uncouth little wench! Do you know what you have lost by losing the Malfoy match? And to Pansy Parkinson, of all people! Get out of my house! Get out now! An owl will be sent if and when we decide to let you return home!" my father screamed as he grabbed my arm and shoved me into the nearest fireplace. "Hogwart's!"
My mind reeled as I suddenly found myself back at the school. My common room was full of people, and to my dismay, Pansy was holding court right at the center of it all.
"And to think, that Weasley-looking girl was after my darling Draco! She never sent word to her parents because she was trying to hook him before they knew, to force the match!" Pansy was putting on a real show, and a growing group of first and second years was listening with baited breath. "Well, you know, Draco and I have always been so close, so I immediately sent word, warning his parents. My own family had set a match for me, with a handsome oldest son of an old Welsh pureblood family, a family with connections and hereditary lands. But, in an effort to spare the Malfoys and the Blacks – the honorable Blacks, that is – my parents offered to sever the match to secure a proper wife for Draco." Pansy turned and gave me the most saccharine sweet, insincere, bitchy smirk she could muster. I must add, the unsightly blemishes that marked her as almost a woman certainly did detract from the entire picture.
"Sod off, you little bitch! Like your family could manage to match you to any boy with working eyes, let alone with connections and hereditary lands. And you, honorable? Let's ask Crabbe and Goyle and Zabini how honorable you are after a roll in the hay behind Hagrid's hovel. I think its more likely you've got Draco's bun in your oven than your family is trying to help anyone else! And what do you mean by 'the honorable Blacks' – you referring to my uncle? Or me?" I didn't even wait for her to splutter out a reply before I turned on my heel and headed for my dormitory.
'All I need now is a visit from Draco to make my night,' I thought as I stretched out on my bed, waiting for sleep to take me.