A/N: Read, review, enjoy
~Faveo~
Pansy was still ravishing. It's hard to think she was mine at one point. That's right, she was promised to me, not that pale little priss Drano, or Dracula, or whatever idiotic name his parents cursed him with. You may be wondering how I happened to loose her; you and me both. All I remember was being packed off to my uncles house one night in the dead of winter. I didn't pick to go to Russia, where there were no beauties for my eyes to rest on like here in England. I didn't even pick to go to Drumstag, where none of my predecessors had gone, I wanted to go to Hogwarts with Pansy.
I am unaccustomed to not having my say, so I really must say that I wasn't the best ward for my uncle. I was demanding, lustful, and irresponsible, but even through this he taught me the most useful of dark magic, most of these studies were to keep me out of the way and keep me amused, but I paid close attention so that one day I could get out an use my power to ensnare Pansy.
You might wonder why I needed to ensnare her, with my natural good looks and captivating nature? Pansy is deeper than that, and all that deeper means for me is harder to keep a hold of. Being bred as I was I know all I need is a high born trophy wife to seal my place in the world and Pansy is the one I have chosen. Pansy's family is thick with magic meaning my male heir will be strong enough to not disgrace my name and perhaps become an asset to the dark one. Her beauty and ease with words will come in handy at dinners and gala events.
You might think my way of thought is archaic and cold, but I know that it will not be unpleasant for Pansy once she gets far from that git Drake. My uncle has informed me that the rumor around London is that Drack and Pansy were once in love, but now the fire has dimmed. This means it is my turn to cut in. I have heard that Dunk is not the same as he was and will not fight my taking Pansy, my only road block are those blasted letters. I haven't a clue what she is talking of, but obviously they did not give me credit. If Pansy would stop being so dammed emotional. I'll have to break her of that.
~~~
I was roaming the Parkinson castle, trying to regain my bearings; you must remember I have not been here in ages, and also to appraise the collection of items that would soon be mine. The lamps looked like they could fetch a good price, for they might due for the Derbyshire manor, but never for the Peterborough house. Then again, we would be uniting our fortunes, so perhaps we could buy a Sea-side place to match the lamps? They were rather nice.
While theses thoughts ran through my head I heard the subtle clomping of designer leather boots (the sound is unmistakable.) on fine Mongolian rugs. This was obviously not Pansy or Mrs. Parkinson. It must be the man of the house then.
This prompted me to put the lamps down and turn to greet him. When I heard the swirl of a cloak coming closer I quickly dusted my shoulder and checked my teeth in the shining frame of an early portrait of Pansy. I was already half bent in a small bow when I saw who it was. I instantly righted myself.
I knew little of the Malfoy line, but what I did know impressed me. If they had a daughter instead of this excuse for a man, then I might have claimed my lines to them and asked for her hand, but the boy was obnoxious. I had heard about his quick, biting wit and good looks; this made me hate him more than I already did. Anyone who dared try to take my trophy from me would have suffer.
He tried to walk past me in the direction of the offices, but I put a hand to his chest, attempting to knock him backwards; I swear I saw him stumble a little.
He tried to cover what I knew to be surprise at seeing such a handsome man in his lovers house. He hid it expertly. "Excuse me, but I am on an errand for my mother. I need to see Mrs. Parkinson expressly." This boy said stiffly, with the air of a man who knows he is speaking down to someone. He must not know who I am at all, or he is doing this out of jealousy. He must have heard of me.
"I'm sorry, but Mrs. Parkinson isn't taking any callers. You'll have to talk to me," I took a small bow. "Faveo Maligo, Miss Parkinson's betrothed."
Dunker didn't even flinch. He stayed stone faced and unmoved. I know underneath he was seething. For a few moments he didn't say anything, but then he seemed to compose his thoughts. "I'll file that away somewhere, but I need to speak with Mrs. Parkinson." his impertinence annoyed me thoroughly.
"Are you thick? I said she wasn't taking any callers." I shoved him for effect.
He, once again, didn't move. If someone called me thick I'd make sure they couldn't speak again. This time the reaction was a little quicker. "No, I assure you I am not, but that doesn't change the fact that for a Malfoy people always take callers. Now if you don't move I'll be forced to- "
"-to what? You aren't welcome here anymore Dunky." I shoved him again. He didn't move, but I continued my rant. "Malfoy or not Pansy loves me, not you and-"
Then there was blackness. I'm not sure what happened, but I'm sure he took a cheap shot. That is the only way to knock a Maligo down.
~~~
"Evigilo, we had an agreement. Faveo was not to come within a thousand paces of my daughter until she had the Malfoy wedding band on her finger and a gilded rattle in her hand!" Evita Parkinson said expressively to the green flamed fireplace.
"Yes, and things change."
"What has changed? Yes Draco seems more like his father, but he is in an awkward age! Pansy might like this version better!"
"Haven't you been told?" Evigilo looked at her oddly. How could she have missed it?
Something ineffable passed Evita's features. "Funny, he's been especially close-mouthed about things lately, particularly things having to do with my Daughter's fate." She said coldly.
"Narcissa will have sent you a letter by now, I suggest you believe it."
Evita just closed her eyes. "Evigilo, in the future, tell me anything having to do with Pansy and my family. Because if you won't, no one will." A tear slid silently down her cheek, streaking her make-up and dropping into the blazing green.
~~~
~Draco~
There's a world outside of my head. I remember that much. I remember what it felt like to hold my head up and have everyone think I was intelligent and handsome. I remember what it was like to move with definition and do only what I wanted. I also remember what it was like to have Pansy by my side, even when my intelligence failed me, my complexion swayed, my hand faltered, and I didn't have a clue what I wanted.
That's the memory that hurts the most, knowing she was there. There were days that I scorned her for hanging around. There were days that all I wanted was for her to look at me with her bottomless brown eyes. Even with my indecision, she stayed. Now, without being able to touch her or tell her what I would normally, it hurts like nothing I've ever felt. I think the one good thing to come out of this is that I have realized I really love her. Honestly and truly, which is something I am not often.
It was in these thoughts I was wandering when my mother came sweeping in to my antechamber, where I kept my private library, in her silver, floor length traveling cloak.
"Draco, I am forced to go on a few errands," 'Obviously, you're in your cloak.' I thought. "If you could please give this letter to Mrs. Parkinson by four." She handed me a letter with the thick green and black marbled seal of the Malfoys. Only when one looked closely could they see the details of dark artifacts held close to the death eaters.
"I will go immediately, Mother." This bloke in my head answered for me, with a formality that I never used with my Mum. My mother, while handing it to me, looked slightly hurt. The ever astute observer noted it. "What is wrong mother?" What's with this guy and not using contractions?
"Nothing, Draco. I was just remembering why I used to enjoy this cloak so much."
I was truly intrigued. I pressed myself to say something, knowing the only answer that would be acceptable in this context. The burning returned, but it only last for a few seconds before I said. "Why?"
"I originally bought it because it reminded me of your eyes." She looked deep into mine, though hers were softer than I think they have ever been. Traces of hurt and determination were mingled with the sheen of unshed tears. Or perhaps they had been shed? I saw thin streaks in her make- up that only ones who knew what he face looked like before the make-up on could notice. "Though now I wonder why I even purchased it," She turned to the door. "it bears no resemblance any longer."
~~~
With a thick plop I fell into the plush Persian carpeting that covered the granite floors of the Parkinson meeting room. It was an ungraceful, cracking fall that twisted my neck. I felt none of it, but only knew that it should hurt. I think this was more painful. It showed that my numbing was becoming more complete.
I was left to mull over this on the long trail of winding halls into wherever Mrs. Parkinson was. If I was lucky, Pansy wouldn't be in my way.
The fact that Malfoys are not known for luck hit me like a bag of bricks, or rather a hundred and ten pound girl.
"Draco?" She said, blushing mildly. She looked wonderful. Her dark hair was framing her face in long, softly curled steaks.
"Yes, nice to see you Pansy. I am here on an errand for your mother." Never more did I want something bad to happen to myself than now.
"Oh, well, she's in the offices. You'll find her alone I suspect." Pansy said, looking at the ground. Then something changed and her eyes bored straight into mine. While I opened my mouth to reply she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me deeply.
...
...
... you'll have to forgive me, I couldn't think of a thing to say, that's the effect Pansy has on me. She clears my thoughts of everything but her and I doubt you wanted to hear of her beauty, her intelligence, her wit, or her eyes, so I choose to say nothing. Choosing to say nothing right then to her may have been the dumbest thing I have done of my own free-will in record. This includes jumping off my balcony because I thought I could fly.
She took my silence as an affront, I think, because she jumped to the side of me and ran down the hall. Yes, that will be the dumbest thing.
~~~
I felt his hand before I saw him. He, whoever he was, was a tall, gawky boy, with a big nose and pointed chin. I didn't know who he was and would have liked to keep it that way, but my body was planted to the floor and found it necessary to speak to this person.
"Excuse me sir, but I am on an errand for my mother. I need to see Mrs. Parkinson expressly." If it had been me I would have just shot him to the side with my wand and walked along, not even attempting to excuse myself. He hadn't even spoken and I already hated him.
With his huge, beaklike nose in the air he said, "I'm sorry, but Mrs. Parkinson isn't taking any callers. You'll have to talk to me," He took a small bow. "Faveo Maligo, Miss Parkinson's betrothed."
My blood boiled. Betrothed? Please, she had just kissed me! It was then that pain shot at my heart; perhaps that had been a kiss goodbye? I fought to get something out, something biting, something harsh, just something! My heart and thoughts were going in so many directions I couldn't focus enough to say much, but a weak barb came out. "I'll file that away somewhere, but I need to speak with Mrs. Parkinson."
He looked slightly surprised, he would have been a hell of a lot more surprised if I had been in charge. Scratch that. he wouldn't have had time to be surprised.
"Are you thick? I said she wasn't taking any callers."
What was this boy thinking? People don't talk like that to Malfoys, especially pissed off Malfoys. Now I had a focus. Also, I felt that whoever was in my head was angry too. "No, I assure you I am not, but that doesn't change the fact that for a Malfoy people always take callers. Now if you don't move I'll be forced to-"
"-to what? You aren't welcome here anymore Dunky." He weakly shoved me. "Malfoy or not Pansy loves me, not you and-"
Yes, I hit him. I'd have hit him a hell of a lot harder if I could have. Before he hit the ground my feet started me down the path to the offices, as if my body were scared I would kick him, which I would have.
~~~
Mrs. Parkinson was leaning on the main mantel, her head hung low, when I walked into the office. The round room, padded with dark velvets and several, matching, granite fireplaces placed at intervals to hold floo meetings.
Mrs. Parkinson didn't bother to say hello to me, she only deftly split the seal and read the short note my Mother's hand had written that morning. She looked saddened and some what deflated. Her light blue eyes seemed to dim a little.
She sighed and laid letter down onto the massive polished oak desk.
"Will there be a reply?" My voice seemed to echo in the pressing silence.
She looked up and seemed to awaken from what ever dream she had been having, but still didn't answer. She looked almost confused then something clicked. "Oh, You're dismissed. Is that what we need to say?" She said more to herself than anyone. This thing turned to leave, but Mrs. Parkinson called again. "Wait!" I faced her. "Draco, if you're in there, don't take this personally. It's just business. I know she loved you."
A/N: If you haven't a clue what's going on, don't trip, that's how I want it. (If you do know what's going on, you know more than I do.) All will be resolved and the true problem will show itself soon. The reviews are wonderful and I love them, keep 'em coming. If you've got any predictions, send them too; I'd love to hear what you think!
Lots of warm and fuzzies, Apolla
~Faveo~
Pansy was still ravishing. It's hard to think she was mine at one point. That's right, she was promised to me, not that pale little priss Drano, or Dracula, or whatever idiotic name his parents cursed him with. You may be wondering how I happened to loose her; you and me both. All I remember was being packed off to my uncles house one night in the dead of winter. I didn't pick to go to Russia, where there were no beauties for my eyes to rest on like here in England. I didn't even pick to go to Drumstag, where none of my predecessors had gone, I wanted to go to Hogwarts with Pansy.
I am unaccustomed to not having my say, so I really must say that I wasn't the best ward for my uncle. I was demanding, lustful, and irresponsible, but even through this he taught me the most useful of dark magic, most of these studies were to keep me out of the way and keep me amused, but I paid close attention so that one day I could get out an use my power to ensnare Pansy.
You might wonder why I needed to ensnare her, with my natural good looks and captivating nature? Pansy is deeper than that, and all that deeper means for me is harder to keep a hold of. Being bred as I was I know all I need is a high born trophy wife to seal my place in the world and Pansy is the one I have chosen. Pansy's family is thick with magic meaning my male heir will be strong enough to not disgrace my name and perhaps become an asset to the dark one. Her beauty and ease with words will come in handy at dinners and gala events.
You might think my way of thought is archaic and cold, but I know that it will not be unpleasant for Pansy once she gets far from that git Drake. My uncle has informed me that the rumor around London is that Drack and Pansy were once in love, but now the fire has dimmed. This means it is my turn to cut in. I have heard that Dunk is not the same as he was and will not fight my taking Pansy, my only road block are those blasted letters. I haven't a clue what she is talking of, but obviously they did not give me credit. If Pansy would stop being so dammed emotional. I'll have to break her of that.
~~~
I was roaming the Parkinson castle, trying to regain my bearings; you must remember I have not been here in ages, and also to appraise the collection of items that would soon be mine. The lamps looked like they could fetch a good price, for they might due for the Derbyshire manor, but never for the Peterborough house. Then again, we would be uniting our fortunes, so perhaps we could buy a Sea-side place to match the lamps? They were rather nice.
While theses thoughts ran through my head I heard the subtle clomping of designer leather boots (the sound is unmistakable.) on fine Mongolian rugs. This was obviously not Pansy or Mrs. Parkinson. It must be the man of the house then.
This prompted me to put the lamps down and turn to greet him. When I heard the swirl of a cloak coming closer I quickly dusted my shoulder and checked my teeth in the shining frame of an early portrait of Pansy. I was already half bent in a small bow when I saw who it was. I instantly righted myself.
I knew little of the Malfoy line, but what I did know impressed me. If they had a daughter instead of this excuse for a man, then I might have claimed my lines to them and asked for her hand, but the boy was obnoxious. I had heard about his quick, biting wit and good looks; this made me hate him more than I already did. Anyone who dared try to take my trophy from me would have suffer.
He tried to walk past me in the direction of the offices, but I put a hand to his chest, attempting to knock him backwards; I swear I saw him stumble a little.
He tried to cover what I knew to be surprise at seeing such a handsome man in his lovers house. He hid it expertly. "Excuse me, but I am on an errand for my mother. I need to see Mrs. Parkinson expressly." This boy said stiffly, with the air of a man who knows he is speaking down to someone. He must not know who I am at all, or he is doing this out of jealousy. He must have heard of me.
"I'm sorry, but Mrs. Parkinson isn't taking any callers. You'll have to talk to me," I took a small bow. "Faveo Maligo, Miss Parkinson's betrothed."
Dunker didn't even flinch. He stayed stone faced and unmoved. I know underneath he was seething. For a few moments he didn't say anything, but then he seemed to compose his thoughts. "I'll file that away somewhere, but I need to speak with Mrs. Parkinson." his impertinence annoyed me thoroughly.
"Are you thick? I said she wasn't taking any callers." I shoved him for effect.
He, once again, didn't move. If someone called me thick I'd make sure they couldn't speak again. This time the reaction was a little quicker. "No, I assure you I am not, but that doesn't change the fact that for a Malfoy people always take callers. Now if you don't move I'll be forced to- "
"-to what? You aren't welcome here anymore Dunky." I shoved him again. He didn't move, but I continued my rant. "Malfoy or not Pansy loves me, not you and-"
Then there was blackness. I'm not sure what happened, but I'm sure he took a cheap shot. That is the only way to knock a Maligo down.
~~~
"Evigilo, we had an agreement. Faveo was not to come within a thousand paces of my daughter until she had the Malfoy wedding band on her finger and a gilded rattle in her hand!" Evita Parkinson said expressively to the green flamed fireplace.
"Yes, and things change."
"What has changed? Yes Draco seems more like his father, but he is in an awkward age! Pansy might like this version better!"
"Haven't you been told?" Evigilo looked at her oddly. How could she have missed it?
Something ineffable passed Evita's features. "Funny, he's been especially close-mouthed about things lately, particularly things having to do with my Daughter's fate." She said coldly.
"Narcissa will have sent you a letter by now, I suggest you believe it."
Evita just closed her eyes. "Evigilo, in the future, tell me anything having to do with Pansy and my family. Because if you won't, no one will." A tear slid silently down her cheek, streaking her make-up and dropping into the blazing green.
~~~
~Draco~
There's a world outside of my head. I remember that much. I remember what it felt like to hold my head up and have everyone think I was intelligent and handsome. I remember what it was like to move with definition and do only what I wanted. I also remember what it was like to have Pansy by my side, even when my intelligence failed me, my complexion swayed, my hand faltered, and I didn't have a clue what I wanted.
That's the memory that hurts the most, knowing she was there. There were days that I scorned her for hanging around. There were days that all I wanted was for her to look at me with her bottomless brown eyes. Even with my indecision, she stayed. Now, without being able to touch her or tell her what I would normally, it hurts like nothing I've ever felt. I think the one good thing to come out of this is that I have realized I really love her. Honestly and truly, which is something I am not often.
It was in these thoughts I was wandering when my mother came sweeping in to my antechamber, where I kept my private library, in her silver, floor length traveling cloak.
"Draco, I am forced to go on a few errands," 'Obviously, you're in your cloak.' I thought. "If you could please give this letter to Mrs. Parkinson by four." She handed me a letter with the thick green and black marbled seal of the Malfoys. Only when one looked closely could they see the details of dark artifacts held close to the death eaters.
"I will go immediately, Mother." This bloke in my head answered for me, with a formality that I never used with my Mum. My mother, while handing it to me, looked slightly hurt. The ever astute observer noted it. "What is wrong mother?" What's with this guy and not using contractions?
"Nothing, Draco. I was just remembering why I used to enjoy this cloak so much."
I was truly intrigued. I pressed myself to say something, knowing the only answer that would be acceptable in this context. The burning returned, but it only last for a few seconds before I said. "Why?"
"I originally bought it because it reminded me of your eyes." She looked deep into mine, though hers were softer than I think they have ever been. Traces of hurt and determination were mingled with the sheen of unshed tears. Or perhaps they had been shed? I saw thin streaks in her make- up that only ones who knew what he face looked like before the make-up on could notice. "Though now I wonder why I even purchased it," She turned to the door. "it bears no resemblance any longer."
~~~
With a thick plop I fell into the plush Persian carpeting that covered the granite floors of the Parkinson meeting room. It was an ungraceful, cracking fall that twisted my neck. I felt none of it, but only knew that it should hurt. I think this was more painful. It showed that my numbing was becoming more complete.
I was left to mull over this on the long trail of winding halls into wherever Mrs. Parkinson was. If I was lucky, Pansy wouldn't be in my way.
The fact that Malfoys are not known for luck hit me like a bag of bricks, or rather a hundred and ten pound girl.
"Draco?" She said, blushing mildly. She looked wonderful. Her dark hair was framing her face in long, softly curled steaks.
"Yes, nice to see you Pansy. I am here on an errand for your mother." Never more did I want something bad to happen to myself than now.
"Oh, well, she's in the offices. You'll find her alone I suspect." Pansy said, looking at the ground. Then something changed and her eyes bored straight into mine. While I opened my mouth to reply she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me deeply.
...
...
... you'll have to forgive me, I couldn't think of a thing to say, that's the effect Pansy has on me. She clears my thoughts of everything but her and I doubt you wanted to hear of her beauty, her intelligence, her wit, or her eyes, so I choose to say nothing. Choosing to say nothing right then to her may have been the dumbest thing I have done of my own free-will in record. This includes jumping off my balcony because I thought I could fly.
She took my silence as an affront, I think, because she jumped to the side of me and ran down the hall. Yes, that will be the dumbest thing.
~~~
I felt his hand before I saw him. He, whoever he was, was a tall, gawky boy, with a big nose and pointed chin. I didn't know who he was and would have liked to keep it that way, but my body was planted to the floor and found it necessary to speak to this person.
"Excuse me sir, but I am on an errand for my mother. I need to see Mrs. Parkinson expressly." If it had been me I would have just shot him to the side with my wand and walked along, not even attempting to excuse myself. He hadn't even spoken and I already hated him.
With his huge, beaklike nose in the air he said, "I'm sorry, but Mrs. Parkinson isn't taking any callers. You'll have to talk to me," He took a small bow. "Faveo Maligo, Miss Parkinson's betrothed."
My blood boiled. Betrothed? Please, she had just kissed me! It was then that pain shot at my heart; perhaps that had been a kiss goodbye? I fought to get something out, something biting, something harsh, just something! My heart and thoughts were going in so many directions I couldn't focus enough to say much, but a weak barb came out. "I'll file that away somewhere, but I need to speak with Mrs. Parkinson."
He looked slightly surprised, he would have been a hell of a lot more surprised if I had been in charge. Scratch that. he wouldn't have had time to be surprised.
"Are you thick? I said she wasn't taking any callers."
What was this boy thinking? People don't talk like that to Malfoys, especially pissed off Malfoys. Now I had a focus. Also, I felt that whoever was in my head was angry too. "No, I assure you I am not, but that doesn't change the fact that for a Malfoy people always take callers. Now if you don't move I'll be forced to-"
"-to what? You aren't welcome here anymore Dunky." He weakly shoved me. "Malfoy or not Pansy loves me, not you and-"
Yes, I hit him. I'd have hit him a hell of a lot harder if I could have. Before he hit the ground my feet started me down the path to the offices, as if my body were scared I would kick him, which I would have.
~~~
Mrs. Parkinson was leaning on the main mantel, her head hung low, when I walked into the office. The round room, padded with dark velvets and several, matching, granite fireplaces placed at intervals to hold floo meetings.
Mrs. Parkinson didn't bother to say hello to me, she only deftly split the seal and read the short note my Mother's hand had written that morning. She looked saddened and some what deflated. Her light blue eyes seemed to dim a little.
She sighed and laid letter down onto the massive polished oak desk.
"Will there be a reply?" My voice seemed to echo in the pressing silence.
She looked up and seemed to awaken from what ever dream she had been having, but still didn't answer. She looked almost confused then something clicked. "Oh, You're dismissed. Is that what we need to say?" She said more to herself than anyone. This thing turned to leave, but Mrs. Parkinson called again. "Wait!" I faced her. "Draco, if you're in there, don't take this personally. It's just business. I know she loved you."
A/N: If you haven't a clue what's going on, don't trip, that's how I want it. (If you do know what's going on, you know more than I do.) All will be resolved and the true problem will show itself soon. The reviews are wonderful and I love them, keep 'em coming. If you've got any predictions, send them too; I'd love to hear what you think!
Lots of warm and fuzzies, Apolla