Vonne: Okay, well I was hoping to get straight to chapter seventeen! :) So, check below if I've answered your questions and then, here it is (a little late, sorry), chapter seventeen.

Isabella120: Thank you so much! I love hearing that my work is well written. It's the best compliment I can imagine. Thanks again!

Doni: Draco actually told Hermione the whole bulk of it. Sorry if that was confusing. I didn't want to make the whole thing a conversation, only because I feel it distracted away from what actually happened. But good question, though. Sorry I confused you a little. HA

Crimson-diamonds-823: AH! :)

Shining Bright Eyes: I love adding Snape into everything as much as I possibly can. I always have felt that he was so important to Malfoy all his life. Thanks for all the consistent reviews!

Jade2099: Thanks! I think you're absolutely right about the whole "I'm better" side that Hermione's feeling right now, because she did win the whole war, after all. And, about your concern with Draco and Pansy, of course I'll make it right sooner or later- HAH. But doesn't it always have to get worse before it gets better?

Alright. That was pretty much everyone from the last chapter! So, I'll just get started then...

Chapter Seventeen:
A Little Bit of Wine and far too Much Dine

When Draco Malfoy had casually informed his parents that he was now seeing Pansy Parkinson, he was sure it was the first time in a long time that he'd actually seen his mother truly smile. He was standing in the doorframe of their massive bedroom that particular afternoon after taking Pansy's advise and using her concealer to cover up the majority of his facial bruises. Against the wall nearest him, he'd managed to pass himself off as merely leaning against it, rather than relying on it for full support. Narcissa hadn't taken much notice or, if she had, was doing quite the job towards not showing it. She sat at her vanity, prying a rather elegant earring in her ear and every so once in a while she let her eyes flicker over to her son in the mirror's glossy reflection.

"Draco," she said with a beaming smile that may have been considered graceful were it to be scrutinized by someone too ignorant to read between the lines, "you sure you don't want to come out tonight with your father and I? It's a lovely restaurant; they've got age old wines I'm sure you'd love." Malfoy tilted his head ever so slightly; in her own way Narcissia Malfoy was an enabler to her son. Unbeknown to her, she'd okayed Malfoy for the once in a blue moon consumption of fine wine in the presence of Lucius and herself. Though that freedom-- that permission had, quite frankly, opened quite a few doors to Malfoy in the long run. And because at first he'd never quite liked the taste of hard liquor, he'd spent all his spare time learning to "acquire the taste".

Nonetheless, he swallowed the burning desire to take his mother up on the offer (and perhaps smuggle a bit more of the drink out of the restaurant afterwards), and shook his head with polite intention. "Thanks," he stated timidly, "but I'm rather tired tonight, mother. I wouldn't be much fun to have around, I can assure you."

Narcissa pouted. In a little moaning voice, she said, "don't be silly, Draco." She slightly shifted in her little stool, once again taking to watching him in the reflection of the mirror. Her smile had faded and she looked completely morose; the bags underneath her eyes slightly more obvious. Her tone of voice was soft, yet hard at the same time, as if she'd taken strong offense in her son's comment. She froze somewhere between trying to find the small hole in her ear and untangling the silvery-blonde lock of it that was wrapped around the diamond earring. "You know I always enjoy your presence."

A hot flush rushed over Draco's otherwise pale face. Having felt instantly sorry for offending his mother, he dropped his eyes, relaxed himself slightly. For one reason or another, he felt bad about covering up the gashes on his face. Though he only pulled himself forward a tiny bit, just slightly away from the doorframe, and said sincerely, "I'm just not feeling well tonight---"

"Oh, Draco," Narcissa quipped, sliding fast off of the stool and striding over towards Malfoy hurriedly. She had completely forgotten about the earring in general. "Are you ill?"

"No!" Malfoy almost blurted out to quickly. His mother stopped almost too suddenly and turned her head to one side, examining him further. A mixture of confusion and uneasiness overtook her instantly. "No," Draco recovered, more meek and quite than before, "just a stomach bug, I'm sure... I... I'll make it up to you and father, okay?" Instantly Narcissa's face fell; she wasn't exactly saddened as she was worried. Either way she paused, letting her brow raise slightly in inquiry. A red blush of her own faltered over her visage and she bit her lip, unsure about being paid back by her son in the first place. But Draco caught on instantly, feeling a bit anxious to lift up her spirits. "I was hoping I could prepare a dinner for the two of you and---"

Draco's glamourous mother practically fell over her feet prematurely. She let her eyes widen and the corners of her thin mouth lifted up ever so slightly. "And!" she repeated anxiously.

"And," Draco quipped, "a friend."

"A girl?"

Malfoy swallowed hard for the second consecutive time in the evening. Still leaning rather suspiciously against the doorframe, he figured his mother was far too excited at this time to notice any hint of his discomfort. And he was right; Narcissa was practically glowing, excitement mounting on her fast. Watching her raise her tiny hands up to her chest in a prayer-like manner, Malfoy slowly nodded back as his only response. "Oh, Draco!" Narcissa mused once again, this time waltzing forward toward her son with outstretched arms. "A girl! I knew it! I knew you'd find someone to share your life with one day!"

The blond boy faked a smile. However his mother's eyes were just about spilling over with tears of her own. She had embraced him tightly, her hands around his boney and sore shoulders. "Yeah, mum," Draco choked miserably. He could not help but feel happy about his mother's happiness, however, though he wished that it wasn't such deliverance of such silly news to make her appear so. "You actually know her, already. I-It's P-Pansy." Once he'd finished, Narcissa tightened her arms around his waist once more, just about doubling her initial hug. Her smile broadened. When she pulled away from her hug, she looked directly into his eyes, looking as if she hadn't spent all that time preparing herself for a night out previously; her makeup was now newly smeared and runny. But she didn't seem to care.

For the third time in the night, Narcissa repeated, "oh, Draco!" but it seemed she couldn't help herself. She seemed to have completely forgotten all about the dinner plans she'd had for the night. In fact, she only seemed to be focused on her son, who she scrutinized with admirable affliction. There was no sorrow in her stare and she looked as if she'd never even expirenced the tragic experiment that was the therapist's office. Her fingers lifted up from Draco's shoulders and he watched her lift them to wipe his blond hair from his face. For a moment he worried that she'd wipe away Pansy's makeup work, but found that, even if that were the case, she wouldn't have even been alert enough to notice.

It was a significant moment; one that Draco had thought he'd been waiting for for quite some time. His mother was, for once in a long time, truly proud of her son. Her elegantly blue eyes that swam with tears scanned his face and she inhaled deeply. And Draco's assumptions were right; as of currently, Narcissa Malfoy had wiped her memory of all the hidden disappointment as of late. Because her thoughts were clarified; everything that she had been hoping for had been, in that very moment, reassured. Her son was not, as she been so often told, miserable and depressed. He was, after all, making his efforts. He was going to be alright and okay and this was just the first step.

Touching the tip of Draco's chin, Narcissa nodded. There was a slight twinkle in her anxious eyes and she had allowed her smile to slightly shrink. "That would be wonderful, Draco," she finished off, nodding with shy excitement. Then, as the moments seemed to pass on slowly, she sighed, backed away and stood up to her normal stance of posture perfection. "Ah," she breathed with only a slightly more calm exterior, "I can't wait to inform your father. He will be so... proud."

And with the ending of that very sentence Malfoy could just about feel the beginning of his new life sound off. Like a race he'd only just begun, he could feel himself hypothetically taking the very first steps. A thunderous drum rattled through his ears. This was supposed to be a good thing-- no, supposed to be a great thing. So, then, why didn't Draco feel any differently?

But that was then and, currently, Draco was trying not to look to heavily back at the past. In fact, as he stood with Pansy at the doorframe to his house, he decided that analyzing such a thing was not the best for him anyway. Because what use was it to regret events that have already occurred? Nonetheless, however, he couldn't help thinking back to the radio, to the woman on the other end. What must she think of him now, after he'd told her only a fraction of his life over the past several years? Their conversation hadn't even really quite ended; Malfoy had finished and when he'd stopped talking she'd excused herself politely. But he had done the same in the very instant she'd returned, leaving her to do God knows what, and taking the time personally to sit in the darkness for himself.

Pansy seemed to take notice to her new boyfriend's wandering mind. She turned slightly on her heels, lifted her arms to fix his tie, and brushed off the nonexistent dust that tainted the shoulder of his dark suit. "All ready, Draco?" she asked with a radiant smile. In all honesty, Pansy's question was quite the stupid one. Of course he wasn't 'ready' but did that really matter at this point, anyway? Surely she didn't think that there was any turning back now, did she? Because even Draco was sure that she wasn't that ignorant. Either way, she seemed to accept this, basking in the glory to have gotten to this point anyway. Blinking slightly, Draco pulled off what looked like a convincing nod and Pansy took it, instantly convinced. With that, she spun back to the massive doors and lifted her hand in a fist to knock.

Of course Pansy looked radiant. She was dressed in emerald green, no doubt done so purposely in an attempt to impress Draco's parents with her Slytherin colors, and her short hair was pulled back just slightly in front with a feather clip that looked slightly like a peacock. Her lips, which were covered in a bright red lipstick, gave her the impression as if she'd just sucked the blood out of some poor bastard. Gulping, Draco Malfoy sincerely hoped that he wasn't the poor bastard.

"Oh!" Pansy said, glancing slightly over her shoulder, "I hear footsteps."

Just as she stated so, the front doors pulled open and Narcissa Malfoy stood in the hallway, a brand new smile plastered across her face. "Pansy!" she mused, reaching her hands out to grab the pretty woman under her pointed chin. "As always, you look gorgeous. Lucius is in the dinning room. Shall we?" Without a moment's waste, Narcissa slipped her fingers into Draco's a squeezed his palm slightly. As she watched Pansy stroll in to the living room ahead of the two of them, she leaned forward, whispering slightly into her son's ear, "Draco, Lucius... he was so thrilled when I told him."

And Narcissa hadn't been lying. The moment Draco had entered the room, he'd taken instant notice to his father's posture. Thoug Lucius Malfoy was always seated straight, he now did so with proud expression. And he also looked radiant for himself; his face graced with a grin that was true and honest. When his son and Pansy entered the room he stood up and spread his arms out in welcoming. "Why, Pansy!" he beamed without showing his teeth, "how nice it is to have you back in our home once again."

"And how nice it is for you to have me," Pansy responded back with a cocky pride that Draco thought Pansy carried around with her constantly. "I must say that every visit here is truly an eventful one. The house looks lovely."

Narcissa practically gleamed. She motioned for Pansy to take a seat and she did so, next to Draco, who sat in the middle of his mother and Pansy. With Lucius at the head of the table, he took to staring at his lab in an uneasy silence. He never felt more uncomfortable with small talk, and so he took to sitting timidly within it. Pansy, however, seemed to lavish in it as much as his parents. And neither of the three seemed to take notice in his silence; as both his mother and his father attended to Pansy, Draco found himself unusual happy that he wasn't the center of their conversation, however droll it was turning out to be.

Pansy had grabbed for the wine, in a delicate way that meant she probably didn't drink much often. She had carried on quite the conversationusing her hands to demonstrate whatever it was she was trying to say and every so once in a while she'd look over at Draco, reference him for a moment, and smooth back her dark hair. And his parents seemed to eat it all up- not that it was an act, nonetheless, Pansy was, in her own way, having quite the time. With an elegant smile and a twinkle behind her lovely eyes, Draco knew that he should be having a good time...

"And so there we were, seated in my backyard. Draco made me sweetbread." Pansy gleamed. She turned back to Draco. Her smile wide and stretched out. Draco didn't know how long they'd been talking for, had spaced out during the majority of it. Truth of the matter was that he hadn't been thinking about picnics or Pansy or sweetbread; his mind was slightly more focused on the radio. Having left it in his room upstairs, stuffed anxiously underneath his pillow, he couldn't help but feel a little bit empty without it.

Lucius lifted an eyebrow, frankly admirably shocked, and his mother turned towards her son. Her smile matched Pansy's and for some reason their matching visuals disturbed him. "Oh, Draco," Narcissa bemused, "I didn't know you could bake."

"I didn't know you two were even seeing one another," Lucius cut in. He peered over his wine glass and when he spoke, his eyes were locked directly into Draco's. Malfoy went stiff. Sure, he probably should have informed his father of his affairs earlier, but, what was the use crying over spilt milk?

Shrugging, Malfoy managed to chuckle, "was sort of a shock to us all..." though Pansy slapped him lightly across his sore forearm. She'd must have forgotten that his body wasn't exactly feeling well.

"A lovely surprise," she interjected, and Lucius nodded, only slightly convinced.

"And," Lucius continued, poking around at his food, "if you don't mind me asking, how exactly did this happen?"

Pansy seemed all too eager to answer the question. Smiling excitedly, she leaned forward in her stool and flashed Malfoy's family with a pretty set of glowing teeth. "Well," she said and she shifted loosely in her seat, "Draco showed up in the middle of the night. Mind you, he was absolutely---"

"--- was absolutely overwhelmed... with... determination," Draco interrupted, a look of sudden suffering alert in his eyes. "Yes, I was truly determined to... tell Pansy how I felt." Momentarily, Pansy seemed hurt having been cut off. But she leaned back, bit her lip, and stared at the blond with sheer confusion. But Malfoy only had one thing in mind and that was to cover his tracks. How could Pansy be so eager to blurt out the details of the night, anyways? Was she about to tell his parents, who had absolutely no idea of Draco's current condition, that he'd shown up covered in blood and bruises? And surely she wasn't about to describe the night any longer. The thought of such openness chilled Draco and, leaning forward on his own, he looked his father in the eye, squared his jaw, and stated in a lawyer-like tone, "I've always had feelings for Pansy."

Lucius stared back at his son. In his hands his fingers were wrapped around the bulk of his wine glass. The staring contest between father and son was in full swing, though Pansy had taken to staring at her lap now, and Narcissa seemed to be oblivious to it all. She smiled, pushing her white blonde hair back behind her ears, and seemed to rather enjoy what seemed like an admission of love from her one and only son.

But as his father kept his gaze ongoing, Draco could feel his nerves start to pick up-- if such a thing were utterly possible. His forehead was in risk of breaking out in a cold sweat. But then, quickly as it had come, Lucius let his gaze drop. He raised his glass in his own personal toast, and said, "Draco's always been privy to knowing exactly what he wants." Before he granted himself to take another sip, he added, "it's a good quality."

And Draco felt himself fall back into his seat. Somewhere over the beat of his heart pounding in his chest, he heard his mother continue, "yes, one of many fantastic qualities," and Pansy grabbed his quivering knee. She pushed down on it when she noticed he'd been bobbing his feet up and down underneath the massive dinner table.

"Yes," Pansy cut in, feeling most comfortable in the spotlight, "Draco is wonderful, isn't he?" She gave the family time to take her statement in, but no one was paying much attention to her. Lucius had been watching Malfoy for quite some time now, his stare a rather unreadable one. Narcissa, on the other hand, wore her heart nailed to her sleeve. She remained smiling across Pansy back at her son, her eyes wide with admiration and joy. "Which is why I wanted to propose something."

"Well," Lucius said, still watching Malfoy questionably, "propose away."

And instantly Pansy took Draco's father's advise. She turned to Draco, scooting herself slightly in the seat, and reached for his pale hands that rested on his lap. For a moment he watched her hold them, looking into Draco's gray eyes so intensely that his nerves crept back to him once again. "Draco Malfoy," Pansy started, looking confident and radiant and beautiful in her own way, "I've always loved you and I will always love you."

Narcissa touched the space on her chest where her beating heart would be.

Lucius placed his wine glass down on the table.

Draco's eyes flashed back and forth from his hands in Pansy's, and back to Pansy's face in general. His heart was beating faster and faster than ever. No way was this happening-- but it was. And he knew it before she could ask. Pansy's pretty mouth opened wide, formed her words accurately and elegantly. "And I know it's only been a short while, but I feel like I've been seeing you for many years."

Malfoy's face drained of any color it had left in it. She was right-- in the back of his horrified mind he figured that it was somewhat like he'd been seeing Pansy Parkinson for years on now. He felt himself grow a bit sick at the realization, not truly out of disgust with Pansy, but out of the bitterness he now felt towards himself. His ignorance, once again, never failed to amaze him.

"Draco Malofy," Pansy repeated, his name a rather consistent pronoun on her lips. She had kept her same distance, but all the while Draco could sense he leaning closer and closer and closer. He could once again hear the pounding fateful drums booming behind his temples. He knew what she was going to say, but the whole time he found that he was denying it all. But what use was it to deny something so utterly inevitable? There was no escaping it now... there was no excusing himself and walking upstairs to lock himself in his bedroom. There was absolutely nothing of the sort. And so as he sat in the chair, staring back into the lovely eyes that belonged to a woman that he did not love, he allowed her to continue on, stating romantically, "would you marry me?"

From her spot next to Pansy, Narcissa practically squealed. Her eyes instantly swelled up with tears and her hand slipped from off her chest. Draco's father's eyes only widened, but he remained silent, waiting. And they were all waiting, really, for an answer that was bound to come. Malfoy found himself opening his mouth and then slamming it back shut again with force. He had to say something and his mind told him over and over: say something, say anything! So, because he was admittedly bound to, he nodded timidly and said, "okay."

"Oh, Draco!" Narcissa once again swooned, leaping up from her seat and retreating towards her son's. She bent over the back of it and wrapped her arms around her son's shoulders. Her makeup was ruined by her running tears and she bent down, planting a sweet kiss on the top of his blond head. "Aren't you so proud, Lucius?"

Looking up for the first time in the night, Lucis Malfoy seemed a little uneasy at first. However, this notion was instantly shut down. He shook his head as if to shake something persisting from his mind, and once again lifted his wine glass. "Well, I must say I am," he demanded, a slight twinkle in his eye. Draco wasn't sure if it was the trace of tears of his own, or just the light hitting them. "Congratulations."

Congratulations. He'd been given the okay. And then why didn't he feel okay? This was what he wanted all along-- get married. He could finally check this little task off of his list. And, as he sat there seemingly stone-like in the wave of movement that carried out through the rest of the night, Draco Malfoy acted the way he was supposed to act, said the things he was supposed to say, and smiled the way he was supposed to smile. Because, after all, if he put on the happiest face in the world, who would be the wiser?

Vonne: REVIEW!