it was kind of funny, because that summer, pansy's chest finally developed.. and developed.... and then it developed a bit more!
by september first she had a bust like nobody's business, lovely curves under a skirt and sweater. it pissed draco off endlessly. draco sat with crabbe and goyle, looking out the window as the train moved along the track. when pansy same into the carriage, draco couldn't believe his eyes.
"are those.. oh thank *god*. your chest! it finally grew!"
pansy laughed. "they're so huge! it's like i cursed you."
"i know!" she agreed, laughing. she seated herself beside him.
"are they real?"
"of course they're real, draco."
"i don't know whether or not to believe you."
"feel them, then, if you don't believe me."
draco raised hands, grinning, and cupped two handfuls. "wow." he said, giving his approval. he gave them a curious squeeze. "they're very soft." he mumbled, stupidly. crabbe and goyle snickered, a little enviously. as though they were living vicariously through draco's two hands.
pansy smacked his hands away. "right. you've felt them. get off me."
sometime after that she left, leaving draco and his henchmen to their own devices. they wandered around, and even ran into harry potter, a mousy boy with ratty tatty glasses and unkempt hair. to be truthful, draco had sought him out, going from car to car, seeing who was who. a middle eastern boy with pretty eyes introduced himself as 'blaise' and offered to smoke a black, sticky bit of opium with them.
harry was actually very hard to find that first time, but draco would get better at it in years to come.
*
"you know what father's just told me? i'll be in the same year as harry potter." he complained, disgusted. "i can't believe this. god damnit."
narcissa looked at draco. "where did you learn that word?" she asked, surprised. "i'm eleven, mum. i've known that word since i was eight."
"your eleven already? oh." she smiled. "your growing up so fast, darling."
draco hardly listened. he was still wallowing in his sheer disappointment of having to share a *school* with the boy who had brought the fall of the dark lord, the end of the revolution.
"it's going to ruin *eveything*. my entire life is going to.." he paused, "*suck* because of him." he said, dramatically.
"nonsense, draco. he's no match for you."
"i know." he agreed.
"and who knows.. you two might even end up being friends. i don't know if you've thought of this or not, but there's a fair chance that boy might end up in slytherin."
*
although narcissa only suggested this hypothetical once, it stuck with draco and sometimes he let himself imagine just what that might be like, to be friends with the boy who lived.
it was almost perverse, the way this idea charmed him. they would practice all sorts of tricky, dangerous magic together and be great wizards. they'd be popular. girls would *love* them - girls with chests ten times bigger than pansy's.. girls who liked to have *sex*...
that unfriendly conversation they shared on the hogwarts express had not been an entirely truthful encounter. sometime after draco had left the shop, it occured to him just who that boy in the robes shop probably was.
and so draco offered him a hand in friendship...
the rejection had been deeply humiliating. after all, draco was an important person. he was respected. he had a powerful father. he was a *malfoy*. why wouldn't harry want to be his friend...?
draco couldn't help himself. so he persisted.
later it embarrassed him to think back on how he'd acted... he must have been so obvious. he wondered, could everyone else tell how badly he'd wanted harry's attention? but harry had taken up with the urchin weasley and now draco was sure there was no way they would ever be friends. but that was alright, because he soon learned that he would end up being the next best thing:
harry's enemy.
*
...that was also the year it had rained. draco had sat in that sad little boat, scowling. he really wouldn't have minded if it had been a little bit of rain- a nice, gentle drizzle can be very pleasant. but this was no such thing.
"it's like god is *pissing* on us."
it was miserable. and to top it all off, pansy's nipples were rock hard beneath her clothes. crabbe and goyle were sitting on the seat before them, looking down at their shoes as rain pelted the backs of their necks. they wouldn't see if he..
draco let one hand trace the supple curve of her breast admiringly. pansy looked at him with, blushing. "just what do you think your doing?" she took his hand in her own and for a wild moment, hormones draco, thought she was going to bring her fingers to her mouth
"can't i just play with them a little?" he whispered, to keep crabbe and goyle from hearing.
she turned to look at him, her face as stormy as the skies above. raindrops had collected on her eyelashes and her mouth was pink.. glistening. wet.
"please? they're very lovely. i just want to feel them once more. i'm curious." she rolled her eyes.
"well it's not like i've got a pair of my own or anything!" he cried in exasperation.
*
the sorting that year had been a cold, wet affair. sitting at the slytherin table, he waited for harry to be sorted into his house. it *had* to happen. it was meant to be. wasn't it? he wasn't really a-
"GRYFFINDOR!"
draco's mind had been clicking along so quickly that he failed to realize harry was being sorted. he looked up, stunned. the great hall erupted into applause, and the gryffindor table was the loudest of them all. draco didn't stand up, and he didn't clap. draco sat very still and had a long, hard think.
by september first she had a bust like nobody's business, lovely curves under a skirt and sweater. it pissed draco off endlessly. draco sat with crabbe and goyle, looking out the window as the train moved along the track. when pansy same into the carriage, draco couldn't believe his eyes.
"are those.. oh thank *god*. your chest! it finally grew!"
pansy laughed. "they're so huge! it's like i cursed you."
"i know!" she agreed, laughing. she seated herself beside him.
"are they real?"
"of course they're real, draco."
"i don't know whether or not to believe you."
"feel them, then, if you don't believe me."
draco raised hands, grinning, and cupped two handfuls. "wow." he said, giving his approval. he gave them a curious squeeze. "they're very soft." he mumbled, stupidly. crabbe and goyle snickered, a little enviously. as though they were living vicariously through draco's two hands.
pansy smacked his hands away. "right. you've felt them. get off me."
sometime after that she left, leaving draco and his henchmen to their own devices. they wandered around, and even ran into harry potter, a mousy boy with ratty tatty glasses and unkempt hair. to be truthful, draco had sought him out, going from car to car, seeing who was who. a middle eastern boy with pretty eyes introduced himself as 'blaise' and offered to smoke a black, sticky bit of opium with them.
harry was actually very hard to find that first time, but draco would get better at it in years to come.
*
"you know what father's just told me? i'll be in the same year as harry potter." he complained, disgusted. "i can't believe this. god damnit."
narcissa looked at draco. "where did you learn that word?" she asked, surprised. "i'm eleven, mum. i've known that word since i was eight."
"your eleven already? oh." she smiled. "your growing up so fast, darling."
draco hardly listened. he was still wallowing in his sheer disappointment of having to share a *school* with the boy who had brought the fall of the dark lord, the end of the revolution.
"it's going to ruin *eveything*. my entire life is going to.." he paused, "*suck* because of him." he said, dramatically.
"nonsense, draco. he's no match for you."
"i know." he agreed.
"and who knows.. you two might even end up being friends. i don't know if you've thought of this or not, but there's a fair chance that boy might end up in slytherin."
*
although narcissa only suggested this hypothetical once, it stuck with draco and sometimes he let himself imagine just what that might be like, to be friends with the boy who lived.
it was almost perverse, the way this idea charmed him. they would practice all sorts of tricky, dangerous magic together and be great wizards. they'd be popular. girls would *love* them - girls with chests ten times bigger than pansy's.. girls who liked to have *sex*...
that unfriendly conversation they shared on the hogwarts express had not been an entirely truthful encounter. sometime after draco had left the shop, it occured to him just who that boy in the robes shop probably was.
and so draco offered him a hand in friendship...
the rejection had been deeply humiliating. after all, draco was an important person. he was respected. he had a powerful father. he was a *malfoy*. why wouldn't harry want to be his friend...?
draco couldn't help himself. so he persisted.
later it embarrassed him to think back on how he'd acted... he must have been so obvious. he wondered, could everyone else tell how badly he'd wanted harry's attention? but harry had taken up with the urchin weasley and now draco was sure there was no way they would ever be friends. but that was alright, because he soon learned that he would end up being the next best thing:
harry's enemy.
*
...that was also the year it had rained. draco had sat in that sad little boat, scowling. he really wouldn't have minded if it had been a little bit of rain- a nice, gentle drizzle can be very pleasant. but this was no such thing.
"it's like god is *pissing* on us."
it was miserable. and to top it all off, pansy's nipples were rock hard beneath her clothes. crabbe and goyle were sitting on the seat before them, looking down at their shoes as rain pelted the backs of their necks. they wouldn't see if he..
draco let one hand trace the supple curve of her breast admiringly. pansy looked at him with, blushing. "just what do you think your doing?" she took his hand in her own and for a wild moment, hormones draco, thought she was going to bring her fingers to her mouth
"can't i just play with them a little?" he whispered, to keep crabbe and goyle from hearing.
she turned to look at him, her face as stormy as the skies above. raindrops had collected on her eyelashes and her mouth was pink.. glistening. wet.
"please? they're very lovely. i just want to feel them once more. i'm curious." she rolled her eyes.
"well it's not like i've got a pair of my own or anything!" he cried in exasperation.
*
the sorting that year had been a cold, wet affair. sitting at the slytherin table, he waited for harry to be sorted into his house. it *had* to happen. it was meant to be. wasn't it? he wasn't really a-
"GRYFFINDOR!"
draco's mind had been clicking along so quickly that he failed to realize harry was being sorted. he looked up, stunned. the great hall erupted into applause, and the gryffindor table was the loudest of them all. draco didn't stand up, and he didn't clap. draco sat very still and had a long, hard think.