Tongue In Cheek
Chapter 01 : Inside the Pit
I relished being envied. Envied by every female inside the Slytherin House. The object of speculation and rumor outside of the Snake Pit, but still the center of attention. I blossomed under the negative attention for the majority of my adolescence. All because I had the prime spot, attached to Draco Malfoy's arm, the sexiest beast of a man Hogwarts had ever lay eyes on. I thought I'd found my happily ever after hidden inside the cloak of one of the brightest minds of our graduating class. What I was to find out later, from my mother-in-law-to-be, was that I was prime candidate for Draco Malfoy's trophy wife.
---
Pansy Parkinson, enveloped in robes of lilac satin, rushed as delicately and daintily into her fiancé's study as was proper by Narcissa Malfoy's strict teachings. A feather light knock on the solid oak door and she burst into the room like a light breeze. She was in such a state that she couldn't even take pride in the fact that her face was perfectly flushed and her hair not at all out of place or that she had swept in without even a slight ruffle of the papers strewn upon Draco Malfoy's ornate writing desk.
Had she still been a Hogwart's student she would have let her lips curl into a distasteful grimace and would have let out a growl of pure anger. After only two weeks at the Malfoy estate Pansy instead found herself standing rim-rod straight, and silently seething, waited for the man in front of her to acknowledge her presence.
An artful sigh of sophisticated annoyance was unleashed from the harsh line of Draco's mouth before he lifted his apathetic slate eyes to her pale face. A slight imperceptible inclination of his pale head allowed Pansy to seat herself gracefully into the stiff antique chair across from his own. But she only spoke after Draco had replaced his eagle feather quill into the ink bottle at hand.
" Yes, Pansy darling, what has managed to ruffle your feathers this time?" was the drawled acknowledgement.
Still to enraged to even notice that she had not fidgeted once upon entering the study, Pansy let her thin brows snap together, and her eyes to narrow in an altogether posh sort of way. 'Old fashioned disdain, how quaint' was her one private thought.
" You've been bedding Abigail. Do you deny it?" Let him wince at her crudeness! How dare he, after all she'd gone through for him, go behind her back with another woman. She'd have that girl's stay cut short, and send her straight back home the moment she was done with Draco.
A light brow lifted in disapproval, but Pansy remained unmoved. Let him squirm, she seethed.
" I'd no idea it was to be any of your concern."
" None of my concern? Are we not getting married in 3 months? Or have I been let out of the loop on our ceremony plans? Do the Malfoy's practice polygamy now?"
A grim smile. " Pansy, you'll be my wife." He picked up his quill and bent his head to return to work.
" That is not of my concern! Aren't you even going to assure me that this will not happen again? I deserve an explanation."
The quill was placed aside.
" I do not need to explain myself to you Parkinson. You will kindly exit the study."
" No I will not! I demand a reason for your madness!"
" Madness? Perhaps you do not understand your position."
" What is there to understand?! I'm to be your wife, we are to be devoted to each other for the following months until the official ceremony and then we shall be a monogamous pair until death. It seems perfectly clear!"
His gaze bit into her, clear to her heart. Then he laughed and it felt like he'd twisted the knife in her chest. "Dear Pansy, still innocent as always. As your husband if I find that you do not satisfy my needs I as a man, am allowed to find other means of entertaining myself."
" Then take your goddamn hand and shove it down your pants! But keep these prostitutes out of our home!"
The impact of his fist upon the ancient oak would've caused her to jump five feet in school, but now her features just twisted into a slight grimace.
" You are but a part of my property! As my wife you are entitled to have the honor of bearing the sole heir to the Malfoy line and rest in this manor in comfort until you pass on. You do not have power over me and you WILL show me proper respect, as is my due for my courtesy done onto you."
" So you knock me up, I get to carry around your spawn inside of me for nine months, and then I can lay here and have as many lovers as I so desire." Pansy made her glare as frosty as a hard winter in the South Pole and departed from his presence.
A cold grip on her forearm, hard enough to bruise, dragged her away from the door handle and forced her up against his hard lean form.
" You, Pansy, are to bear my son. Then you become part of this house. You do not leave it without my escort, you do not host parties without my permission. You do not leave your rooms unless I bid you to. If you have any other man in this house I shall dispose of first him and then you. Now that we are clear, I bid you goodnight."
His lips, harsh and demanding forced themselves upon her own and she struggled in his grasp. In bitter annoyance he threw her against the study doors and forced her to surrender to him. Then he pushed away from her. " A house elf will wake you for the morning meal. Now get out."
---
The room was grand. Lovely arched windows allowed sunlight to pour in from the East and South, but there were bars outside the glass. The four poster bed was covered in a luxurious down mattress, comforter and pillows. The comforter and pillows were beautifully made, hand stitched, golden fleur de lees decorated their covers. The room was painted a rich sapphire with white ceiling and plush carpeting, complete with lush Persian rugs placed around the room. Pansy had particularly liked the one beside the hearth. The bed, writing desk, mantel and wardrobe were made of mahogany rich and well oiled, reeking of old craftsmanship.
He'd spoiled it.
Draco'd spoiled the wonderful view of the grounds, the way the light reflected off that walls and made her feel like she was in a room of stars. He'd spoiled the richness of her surroundings… her pampered princess ideology. Draco had spoiled everything. Worst of all, she would have to wear long sleeves tomorrow to cover the bruise he'd made, and this week had been boiling at best. It was sitting upon the hearth rug where Pansy finally lay and cried. She let the salty liquid blur her eyes and run down her face. Allowed it to ruin the carefully made face Narcissa's chambermaid had taken a quarter of an hour to create this morning.
Pansy didn't understand. After all she'd let herself get put through. The look his mother had given her when they'd first been introduced, like she was a swine that needed to be cleaned up and looked after. Or the way his father had let his eyes roam over her young form that first night at dinner, when she'd warn the sexy red dress Draco'd bought for her. The lessons that made her relearn the simplest things; how to place one foot in front of the other to give the appearance of graceful movement, how to hold her fork and knife at the dinner table, what to wear in the early morning and what she needed to change into in the late afternoon. How to act the part of the dismissive wife.
Was she so wrong in her views of the world? Were all women treated this way, or were their rare cases of equality among the sexes? Why had they not warned girls of this before they graduated. A nice, oh by the way your freedoms have now been suspended till you die, would've been considerate at least.
" He's crazy to think I'll just let him do whatever he pleases. What a bastard! To think I'd just sit back and be his bitch while he goes off doing who knows what!" and she was stuck with him, Pansy realized. In three months time, she'd be lawfully stuck to an emotionally, mentally and (thinking of her aching arm) physically abusive brute for the rest of her life. A cold shiver ran down her spin, and Pansy wrapped her arms tightly around herself. She felt like a child again, left alone at Hogwarts without her parents to give her advice or comfort.
A light, hesitant tap to her shoulder brought her out of her self pity so quickly she almost snapped her own neck turning round. A house elf, she thought it's name was Nati, stood quivering, as all elves in this house seemed to do, and handed her a letter of clean white parchment. The handwriting belonged to Blaise and Pansy distantly recalled their planned luncheon for tomorrow afternoon in Hogsmeade.
Dear Pansy,
I'm sorry but I've been called out of town to attend the
funeral of my uncle. Perhaps we can reschedule our
luncheon? Please don't be mad at me, I can't wait to
here about your lavish new life!
My deepest regrets,
Blaise Zambini
Pansy grinned in what she hoped was the most disgustingly unladylike way possible. Just like Blaise to lose a relative when Pansy's own happiness was in jeopardy. She'd send a letter of condolence anyway. With a dismissive gesture to the elf, and the request of the use of an owl, she set down to write her reply. To lose her day of freedom was disconcerting, she found that the idea of staying in the Malfoy's laughable excuse for a home brought frightful quakes to her usually stiff shoulders. Where once she would have begged Draco to let her spend the day with him, Pansy now found herself dismayed and even a bit frightened. How far would Draco go, should she disobey him again?
Chapter 01 : Inside the Pit
I relished being envied. Envied by every female inside the Slytherin House. The object of speculation and rumor outside of the Snake Pit, but still the center of attention. I blossomed under the negative attention for the majority of my adolescence. All because I had the prime spot, attached to Draco Malfoy's arm, the sexiest beast of a man Hogwarts had ever lay eyes on. I thought I'd found my happily ever after hidden inside the cloak of one of the brightest minds of our graduating class. What I was to find out later, from my mother-in-law-to-be, was that I was prime candidate for Draco Malfoy's trophy wife.
---
Pansy Parkinson, enveloped in robes of lilac satin, rushed as delicately and daintily into her fiancé's study as was proper by Narcissa Malfoy's strict teachings. A feather light knock on the solid oak door and she burst into the room like a light breeze. She was in such a state that she couldn't even take pride in the fact that her face was perfectly flushed and her hair not at all out of place or that she had swept in without even a slight ruffle of the papers strewn upon Draco Malfoy's ornate writing desk.
Had she still been a Hogwart's student she would have let her lips curl into a distasteful grimace and would have let out a growl of pure anger. After only two weeks at the Malfoy estate Pansy instead found herself standing rim-rod straight, and silently seething, waited for the man in front of her to acknowledge her presence.
An artful sigh of sophisticated annoyance was unleashed from the harsh line of Draco's mouth before he lifted his apathetic slate eyes to her pale face. A slight imperceptible inclination of his pale head allowed Pansy to seat herself gracefully into the stiff antique chair across from his own. But she only spoke after Draco had replaced his eagle feather quill into the ink bottle at hand.
" Yes, Pansy darling, what has managed to ruffle your feathers this time?" was the drawled acknowledgement.
Still to enraged to even notice that she had not fidgeted once upon entering the study, Pansy let her thin brows snap together, and her eyes to narrow in an altogether posh sort of way. 'Old fashioned disdain, how quaint' was her one private thought.
" You've been bedding Abigail. Do you deny it?" Let him wince at her crudeness! How dare he, after all she'd gone through for him, go behind her back with another woman. She'd have that girl's stay cut short, and send her straight back home the moment she was done with Draco.
A light brow lifted in disapproval, but Pansy remained unmoved. Let him squirm, she seethed.
" I'd no idea it was to be any of your concern."
" None of my concern? Are we not getting married in 3 months? Or have I been let out of the loop on our ceremony plans? Do the Malfoy's practice polygamy now?"
A grim smile. " Pansy, you'll be my wife." He picked up his quill and bent his head to return to work.
" That is not of my concern! Aren't you even going to assure me that this will not happen again? I deserve an explanation."
The quill was placed aside.
" I do not need to explain myself to you Parkinson. You will kindly exit the study."
" No I will not! I demand a reason for your madness!"
" Madness? Perhaps you do not understand your position."
" What is there to understand?! I'm to be your wife, we are to be devoted to each other for the following months until the official ceremony and then we shall be a monogamous pair until death. It seems perfectly clear!"
His gaze bit into her, clear to her heart. Then he laughed and it felt like he'd twisted the knife in her chest. "Dear Pansy, still innocent as always. As your husband if I find that you do not satisfy my needs I as a man, am allowed to find other means of entertaining myself."
" Then take your goddamn hand and shove it down your pants! But keep these prostitutes out of our home!"
The impact of his fist upon the ancient oak would've caused her to jump five feet in school, but now her features just twisted into a slight grimace.
" You are but a part of my property! As my wife you are entitled to have the honor of bearing the sole heir to the Malfoy line and rest in this manor in comfort until you pass on. You do not have power over me and you WILL show me proper respect, as is my due for my courtesy done onto you."
" So you knock me up, I get to carry around your spawn inside of me for nine months, and then I can lay here and have as many lovers as I so desire." Pansy made her glare as frosty as a hard winter in the South Pole and departed from his presence.
A cold grip on her forearm, hard enough to bruise, dragged her away from the door handle and forced her up against his hard lean form.
" You, Pansy, are to bear my son. Then you become part of this house. You do not leave it without my escort, you do not host parties without my permission. You do not leave your rooms unless I bid you to. If you have any other man in this house I shall dispose of first him and then you. Now that we are clear, I bid you goodnight."
His lips, harsh and demanding forced themselves upon her own and she struggled in his grasp. In bitter annoyance he threw her against the study doors and forced her to surrender to him. Then he pushed away from her. " A house elf will wake you for the morning meal. Now get out."
---
The room was grand. Lovely arched windows allowed sunlight to pour in from the East and South, but there were bars outside the glass. The four poster bed was covered in a luxurious down mattress, comforter and pillows. The comforter and pillows were beautifully made, hand stitched, golden fleur de lees decorated their covers. The room was painted a rich sapphire with white ceiling and plush carpeting, complete with lush Persian rugs placed around the room. Pansy had particularly liked the one beside the hearth. The bed, writing desk, mantel and wardrobe were made of mahogany rich and well oiled, reeking of old craftsmanship.
He'd spoiled it.
Draco'd spoiled the wonderful view of the grounds, the way the light reflected off that walls and made her feel like she was in a room of stars. He'd spoiled the richness of her surroundings… her pampered princess ideology. Draco had spoiled everything. Worst of all, she would have to wear long sleeves tomorrow to cover the bruise he'd made, and this week had been boiling at best. It was sitting upon the hearth rug where Pansy finally lay and cried. She let the salty liquid blur her eyes and run down her face. Allowed it to ruin the carefully made face Narcissa's chambermaid had taken a quarter of an hour to create this morning.
Pansy didn't understand. After all she'd let herself get put through. The look his mother had given her when they'd first been introduced, like she was a swine that needed to be cleaned up and looked after. Or the way his father had let his eyes roam over her young form that first night at dinner, when she'd warn the sexy red dress Draco'd bought for her. The lessons that made her relearn the simplest things; how to place one foot in front of the other to give the appearance of graceful movement, how to hold her fork and knife at the dinner table, what to wear in the early morning and what she needed to change into in the late afternoon. How to act the part of the dismissive wife.
Was she so wrong in her views of the world? Were all women treated this way, or were their rare cases of equality among the sexes? Why had they not warned girls of this before they graduated. A nice, oh by the way your freedoms have now been suspended till you die, would've been considerate at least.
" He's crazy to think I'll just let him do whatever he pleases. What a bastard! To think I'd just sit back and be his bitch while he goes off doing who knows what!" and she was stuck with him, Pansy realized. In three months time, she'd be lawfully stuck to an emotionally, mentally and (thinking of her aching arm) physically abusive brute for the rest of her life. A cold shiver ran down her spin, and Pansy wrapped her arms tightly around herself. She felt like a child again, left alone at Hogwarts without her parents to give her advice or comfort.
A light, hesitant tap to her shoulder brought her out of her self pity so quickly she almost snapped her own neck turning round. A house elf, she thought it's name was Nati, stood quivering, as all elves in this house seemed to do, and handed her a letter of clean white parchment. The handwriting belonged to Blaise and Pansy distantly recalled their planned luncheon for tomorrow afternoon in Hogsmeade.
Dear Pansy,
I'm sorry but I've been called out of town to attend the
funeral of my uncle. Perhaps we can reschedule our
luncheon? Please don't be mad at me, I can't wait to
here about your lavish new life!
My deepest regrets,
Blaise Zambini
Pansy grinned in what she hoped was the most disgustingly unladylike way possible. Just like Blaise to lose a relative when Pansy's own happiness was in jeopardy. She'd send a letter of condolence anyway. With a dismissive gesture to the elf, and the request of the use of an owl, she set down to write her reply. To lose her day of freedom was disconcerting, she found that the idea of staying in the Malfoy's laughable excuse for a home brought frightful quakes to her usually stiff shoulders. Where once she would have begged Draco to let her spend the day with him, Pansy now found herself dismayed and even a bit frightened. How far would Draco go, should she disobey him again?