Just Like Me

by Draco Dormiens

Draco/Pansy. A look into the lives of two Slytherins; focusses on Pansy.

3. Chapter Three

Just Like Me See last chapter for notes and disclaimer. This was entirely written in a house in Bermuda, late at night, with the shutters making a terrible racket and a dog barking. It made my muse cranky, but for all his whininess, the fourth chapter is being written. Take that, muse. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Pansy straightened out her dress robes, and checked her appearance in the mirror one last time. She finished fixing her hair just as someone knocked on her door. "Yes?" she called. "Come on, Parkinson, it's time for dinner," Draco's voice sounded from the other side of the door. Dinner at the Malfoy Manor on Christmas Eve was always insanely formal. Pansy knew even before she opened the door that Draco was in his best robes, immaculately groomed – but then, he always was. Appearing as less than perfect in public was tantamount to disaster for him. She opened the door. He looked perfect. "How much time did you spend on your appearance today?" she asked, closing the door behind her and starting down the hall. "Wrong way, one hour." Draco caught her sleeve and tugged her in the opposite direction. "You're such a woman," Pansy said offhandedly, following him. "I'm well-dressed, not feminine." Draco rolled his eyes. "How much time did it take you to do your hair?" "One hour." "Only took me twenty minutes to do mine," Draco said. "Therefore, I'm not a woman." "You're less of a woman than I am." "I'm not a woman." "You've got the facial structure to be one. If you let me do your makeup I'm sure I could make you quite pretty, you know," Pansy said, smiling predatorily. Draco rolled his eyes and ignored her. "Your nails are quite nice, too. Blue, I think; navy," Pansy studied his nails. "I'm ignoring you," Draco reminded her. "Why, with some good cosmetics, you could be almost as beautiful as I am!" Pansy exclaimed delightedly. Draco ignored her all the way to the dining room, while Pansy rambled loudly about how positively lovely he would look in a dress. Various paintings in the halls gave them strange looks as they passed. Lucius and Narcissa were already sitting, talking quietly, when Draco and Pansy arrived. The table, which was normally mammoth-sized, was now only very, very large. At a good fifteen feet from end to end, it seemed impossible to carry on an actual conversation while eating at it. Pansy was sure that they would manage. As long as outside noise was kept to a minimum and one remembered to speak very clearly, normal conversation would happen. It always did, and it was always falsely polite, except when Draco opened his mouth. After that happened, conversation quickly disintegrated. Narcissa finally acknowledged Pansy and Draco, and the two took their seats. With precise timing, the first course – a lovely soup of some sort – appeared on the table. Pansy selected a spoon from the array beside her plate that would have befuddled any person who was not used to it. Being a Parkinson, Pansy was brought up eating her high-quality baby food with a selection of three spoons. The forks and knives were introduced when she was two. Whenever she returned to Hogwarts from the summer holidays, she always had to pause a moment at the first meal and remember that in uncultured areas, people only used one fork and one knife. It was mind-bogglingly simple. During her first year at school, she had brought her own cutlery to dinner and divided the food into courses. It had made it feel a bit more like home. When Pansy brought the first steaming spoonful to her mouth, she found that it was – of course – delicious. The perfect temperature, perfectly made – everything about dinner at the Malfoy Manor was perfect, down to the perfectly folded napkins. She made polite conversation throughout dinner, backing up Draco's opinion that Hogwarts was an uncultured backwater fit for none but the Weasleys. Of course, his opinion was much more strongly stated. "And it all comes in communal bowls. They honestly expect me to take my food from the same bowl as brainless sods like Crabbe and Goyle!" Draco ranted. "Incidentally, Mother, thank you for the packages." Narcissa inclined her perfectly coifed head towards her son before he continued on his verbal rampage. Lucius half-listened silently, occasionally taking spoonfuls of the soup before him. "...and you should see the cups, I swear the house-elves only rinse them with water. I always bring my own," he added haughtily. "I refuse to drink from a cup that may have touched the lips of a Mudblood." "Your father did the same thing, in his school days," Narcissa murmured, sending an amused glance at her husband. Lucius nodded, raising his glass to Draco. "Like father, like son," he said, taking a sip. "Bringing your own goblet is an appropriate precaution. I always felt that the house-elves purposely rotate the cups between tables, thus ensuring that every cup is touched by a Mudblood." He looked faintly disgusted at the mere thought. "Exactly," Draco agreed vehemently. "I'll bet anything that those bloody elves purposely send me Potter's cup, or Weasley's, or Granger's. Eurgh!" He shuddered. "I was fortunate enough never to have to deal with any Grangers in my own school days," Lucius said. "You did, however, have James Potter and his group," Narcissa reminded him. "Who?" Lucius said, a fake expression of confusion on his face. "I'm sorry, I don't remember anything of the sort. I have selective amnesia." "I don't blame you," Draco sneered. "James Potter's son and his followers are probably just as bad as his father's. I am lucky that I come from distinguished lineage. I have heritage and pride behind my family name." The conversation went much like this throughout the rest of dinner. Pansy listened with some interest until the Potter family was insulted for the two-hundredth time that night, at which point it got old, in her opinion. There were only so many times one could insult something in one night before it got boring. Better to wait until the next day and continue. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Malfoy Manor at night was eerie. The corridors stretched for miles, winding around the rooms and doubling back on themselves. Pansy stayed inside her rooms; she was scared that if she left, she would get lost in the vast maze of the second floor and never find her way back out. The window in her room overlooked the hill and lake. The ice glinted coldly at her in the moonlight, and the snow sparkled. More than once, Pansy was sure that she had seen a wolf moving about near the forest. It would not be wholly surprising to find out that she was right, for all manner of things lived on the Malfoy grounds. However, when the wolves began to howl that night, she was very glad of her second-floor window with blinds that would close, and of her door that locked. She had never liked the sound of wolves howling. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Christmas morning dawned cold and clear. A house-elf visited Pansy's rooms at precisely 9, and informed her that breakfast was in an hour. She was momentarily worried about having no gifts for Draco's parents, but quickly came back to her senses. The Malfoys, no doubt, would have exchanged gifts already. She requested of the house-elf that a bath be drawn for her, and set about the task of picking an outfit for the day. The same house-elf returned at 10, ready to escort her downstairs to breakfast. Pansy stuck another pin in her hair and swept out of her room. Lucius and Narcissa were already in the dining room. Draco, however, was nowhere to be found. Lucius cast an irritated glance at the clock, and turned to the house-elf. "Find my son," he snapped. "No need, Father," Draco drawled as he strolled into the room. "My apologies for being tardy." He slid easily into the seat next to Pansy. He was still in pyjamas and a dark green dressing gown. Nevertheless, he held himself with the same regal bearing that he had when dressed in the finest clothing. "Good morning, Draco," Narcissa said. Draco nodded to her, and to his father. Lucius sat forward in his seat. "It is a beautiful morning," he remarked. Breakfast was the usual sea of insults, cloaked in a veil of formality and diplomacy. Pansy counted twenty-three separate occasions where the Weasley family was mocked, and seven times in which it was hinted that the Weasleys were all incestuous. She didn't bother to count the other families and individuals who had their dignity stripped away that morning. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "For fuck's sake!" Draco exclaimed, attempting to rein Perdita in and failing miserably. Perdita galloped off at a good clip, dragging Draco along behind her. "Do try not to be crude, Draco," Narcissa rebuked from her position on the main outer staircase. She watched with detached amusement as her only son was dragged into the forest by his overactive pet. Pansy walked down the stairs, and followed the tracks in the snow. Draco's tracks meandered wildly through the trees, and occasionally it seemed that he had nearly collided with one. A spray of snow in front of a particularly large ash indicated that Draco had done some hasty braking and only nearly missed smashing his precious Malfoy face on some extremely hard bark. She heard his voice in the distance; he was cursing loudly. Pansy noted that the curses seemed to be coming closer, and decided to move out of the way. She stepped behind a bush. In the distance, moving rapidly closer, she could see a spot. The spot was followed by another spot, who would be in great trouble with his mother if she could hear what the spot was saying at the moment. "Slow the fuck down, you great sodding mindless animal, you're going to rip my fucking arm off!" the spot shrieked as he passed Pansy, who couldn't help herself and broke down with laughter. "Oh, very bloody funny, Parkinson!" the spot yelled as he was dragged off into the distance. Pansy felt a pang of what may have been sympathy, but was more likely indigestion. She decided that it could be sympathy just for today, and Petrified the dog. "You couldn't have done that half an hour ago, could you?" Draco commented acidly as he rubbed his shoulder. "You weren't walking her half an hour ago. She's a strong thing, isn't she?" Pansy walked over to Draco, and began to poke at his shoulder. "Trust you to state the obvious – ow!" he added. "You've strained a muscle, I guess," Pansy said, still poking. "There you go again with the obvious. Stop poking me, Mother will have it fixed in a moment." Draco pulled away, just as Pansy cast a healing spell. Draco paused, and rotated his shoulder. "So you are useful sometimes, then," he sniped, turning towards the dog. "You're welcome," Pansy said, rolling her eyes. The dog stayed perfectly still. Draco glared at it. "Now how the hell are we going to move Perdita back to the house?" he mused aloud. "I could un-Petrify her and you could walk her back," Pansy suggested innocently. "The fuck are you on, Parkinson? She'll kill us both," Draco said, rubbing his chin in a thoughtful manner. "Finite Incantatem," Pansy said sweetly, and proceeded to make friends with Perdita. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "She's really such a sweet dog," Pansy said. "Yes, you are, aren't you?" Perdita made happy dog noises as Pansy scratched behind her ears. "Out of all the people she could like in this house, she likes you," Draco commented. "No accounting for taste, I suppose." "She likes you too. You just refuse to spend the time to get to know her," Pansy cooed, rubbing Perdita's stomach. Perdita made more happy dog noises. "She's a dog. You can't get to know a dog," Draco said, his tone disdainful. "Shows what you know about dogs then," Pansy shot back. She rolled Perdita back over and gently pushed her in Draco's direction. Perdita galloped over to where Draco sat on the couch, somewhere in the middle of the Malfoy's sitting room. She jumped up on him, panting. "Get off me," Draco said, eyeing his dog with disfavour. Perdita ignored him. "I think she likes you. No accounting for taste," Pansy said, mimicking Draco. "Fuck off," Draco said. "Language, Draco," came Narcissa's voice from the next room. "Sorry, Mother," Draco said, not sounding sorry at all. "Fuck fuck fuck," he muttered rebelliously under his breath. "Draco," Lucius' voice carried a warning. "Check." "Oh, dear," Narcissa said. A brief silence followed, and then the sound of a small marble chess piece being hammered into bits by another small marble chess piece. Another brief silence. Another crunching noise. "Checkmate," Narcissa said. Perdita panted, two and a half inches from Draco's face. "Your breath smells," he told her. Pansy smacked him upside the head. "Never insult a lady," she said primly. "She's a dog, not a lady," Draco protested. Pansy smacked him again. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The next few days were spent in an idyllic haze of Draco, dog, snow, and a lot of chess. Apparently Draco's parents were both quite good at it. Pansy took to watching their games in the evening, since they always promised to be interesting. Narcissa was quite a cunning strategist. When watching her beat Lucius around the board with only a knight, it was not hard to see where Draco got his personality from. Lucius slew the knight with his bishop, and continued on to smash various other key pieces. Narcissa killed his queen. "Damn," he said, and took out her castle. She contemplated the board for a moment before moving the other knight forward, and sitting back in her chair in quiet satisfaction. "Checkmate." "Is not," Lucius responded. "I can still move here." He demonstrated. "No, you can't. My bishop will kill you. See?" She demonstrated. There was a pause. "Damn," he said again. "Good game," she said, sweeping the rubble off the board. "Language, Father," said Draco, his tone honey-sweet. Lucius shot a cold glare at his son, who smiled innocently back. Five days after Christmas, Draco realised that he was immensely bored, and decided to make a trip down to London. "You can come, if you want," he told Pansy imperiously. "Have fun, dear," Narcissa said, and turned a page. She continued reading. "Don't spend too much," Lucius said, reading over his wife's shoulder. Draco had told Pansy that Narcissa hated it when people read over her shoulder, so Lucius did it just to irritate her. He had no interest in Tolkien, although Narcissa had taken a liking to The Hobbit. "It doesn't matter how much I spend, father. We could buy the whole of London and still be immensely rich," Draco said, crossing his arms and looking very much like a spoiled child, which he was. "When you have made your own fortune, you can buy Zurich if you want. For now, don't spend too much," Lucius said. He stopped his wife from turning the page again. "Just a moment, dear, I'm not done the last paragraph." Narcissa rolled her eyes. "How much is too much?" Draco asked, narrowing his eyes. Lucius shrugged. "Two, three thousand. No more." "Fine," Draco said irritably. "What are you going to spend that much on, anyway?" Pansy asked as they left the house. "It's the principle of the thing," Draco snapped. "I'm a Malfoy. I don't like limits on my spending money." "It's hardly a limit. You could buy any member of the Weasley family with that much money," Pansy said, tossing her hair back and walking down the staircase. "Why would I want to own any member of the Weasley family?" Draco said, wrinkling his nose. "They're disgusting. I suppose I could make them do embarrassing things if I owned them, though..." "Exactly," Pansy said, and they left for London, discussing the various ways to humiliate a Weasley. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Draco strolled in a Malfoy-like fashion into Gringotts, where he immediately had money-hungry goblins swarming all over him. Pansy watched him as he leaned against the head goblin's desk, thoughtfully ruminating on which of the Malfoy's numerous vaults he should remove money from. He eventually decided on vault 774. The decision was met with a chorus of approval from the goblins, and Draco beckoned imperiously to Pansy. They made the journey down to the vault mostly in silence. Pansy caught a passing glimpse of one of the Parkinson vaults, and pointed it out to Draco. They exited Gringotts with a fist-sized bag of Galleons. "One does not carry large bags of money," Draco told her. "Besides, I'll just tell the shopowners to charge it to my father." This made sense. Pansy fingered her own money bag and looked around at the shops that lined Diagon Alley. Draco ducked into a small passage, and Pansy followed; they emerged in Knockturn Alley. Draco gave a sigh of relief at the sight of the shops, filled mostly with somewhat less-than-legal merchandise. "I think I'll buy a dragon's egg," he said, smiling wickedly. Twenty minutes later, they emerged from a small store near the end of Knockturn Alley. "Pity they were out of Chinese Fireballs," he said. "I like Opaleyes better anyway," Pansy said, eyeing the bag that held a very expensive egg. "What will your father say?" "He likes dragons," Draco said, with a shrug. "He won't mind, as long as it's raised so it won't kill us. I wonder if anyone around here can tell me where I can get a chimera?" It turned out that someone could, and they did, and Draco paid them well for it.