Pansy's Tale~ Slytherin Thank Yous
The black leather of the Slytherin couches was cool to the touch. That came as no surprise to me; six years of being a Slytherin had taught me that Slytherin equals cold. I knew I should have worn more than this black nightie. The sudden noise must have attracted his attention for his head swung slowly around. Slowly, gracefully, as usual. Everything Draco did was with class, debonair, a certain coolness, I guess you could say, that made it seem that he was totally in control, of everything.
His grey eyes bore into mine. Like silver meeting onyx. His pale face, which he liked to think of as merely fair, was framed by the silken platinum hair of his. His colorings fit him well, and since he had grown into his angular facial features (about fifth year), he had been one of the best looking guys in school, well, in Slytherin anyways. He smirked. The Malfoy smirk. The kid was quite the charmer, not to mention a fairly good wizard. His family had some of the purest blood in all of England. Still for all that he was, for all his attributes, I couldn't find myself wanting him. Although I was forced to have him.
Many people believe that arranged marriages have died out, at least in all industrialized nations, but in wizarding Europe, that's not the case. Draco Malfoy and I, Pansy Parkinson, have been betrothed since birth. When I was young I didn't think much of it. 'Until death do us part' was something incomprehensible to me at the age of seven, when Draco and I would race our toy brooms through the English maze in his backyard. Plus my mother would always tell me that her and dad were betrothed, and it had been the same for Narcissa and Lucius. I thought it was normal. I thought all wizards were betrothed. Even when I found out this bit of information wasn't so, I still wasn't bothered by our betrothal.until now.
I sat beside Draco, and he pulled me in for a traditional kiss. Lack of passion, lack of emotion, as always. I always knew he didn't want me; just as much as I didn't want him. Infact there is someone he does want. Maybe he even loves her. That is assuming Draco believes in love. You never know what havoc Lucius has wrecked on his brain. I'm not jealous, which is weird as I should be, well if I loved Draco I should be. I guess I don't love him. Still I'm not jealous, but I'm no idiot. I've seen them stealing glances at each other in Potions. Care of Magical Creatures, in the Great Hall. I've noticed how they both seem to disappear at the same times. I know it must be torture for him to harbor a secret love, and have me on his arm in public. Still, he does it for the Malfoy family name. Sometimes I wish he wouldn't. So I could be cut from these chains that hold me back as well.
I kiss back, mechanically. Tucking my chin-length blonde hair, a few shades darker than his, behind my ear. He goes to kiss my neck, and suddenly stops. He looks straight at me.
"These games," he whispers, right before he gets up and leaves me with our shortest snog session ever. I sigh in relief. Still my mind is a stir. I fetch my cloak and creep outside the Slytherin dungeons. I need a walk. I need to clear my mind.
***
I didn't really have a set location, unless you call 'get away from the coldness of the dungeons' a set location. I just walked around, numbly, like a zombie. I had no where to go. Library was a foreign word. I didn't know how to get into the kitchens, well, not exactly. Plus I had to be very mindful of the noise I made. I couldn't lose Slytherin any points, not if we wanted to beat Gryffindor. It was just about the time when I was thinking of where to go, when all of a sudden I heard a big.
*WHAM*
.and I was laying on the floor.
What had I walked into? I looked up, all I could see was thin air. Oh bloody hell.
"I HEARD YOU! UP AND ABOUT AFTER HOURS! AND I'LL FIND YOU TOO!" the scruffy voice of Argus Filch, rang out. Oh bloody double hell. I stood up and started to scramble around trying to figure out what I was going to do, when a hand snatched me, and pulled me under a curtain thing.
"What the h-"
"Shh!" a voice sounded out, "be quiet, I'm going to get us out of here." It was a male voice. He started walking very slowly, and I keep tripping up on the curtain thingy. What can I say, I don't do good under pressure. He held on to my waist and pulled me closer to his side, and whispered, "Maybe now you'll be able to walk."
My pride swelled up and I was about to tell whomever this was that I could walk perfectly well, thank you very much, but I remembered Mr. Filch, so I kept my mouth shut. Now that I thought about it, it really didn't bother me that much to be close to this guy's chest. He had an interesting scent of fire and cinnamon and lemon and steel, that I liked, okay, and little bit of soap in there as well.
He led us up through a spindling, spiral stair case. My calves were really aching by the time we'd reached wherever he'd led us. We sat on a stone surface, and he took the curtain off of us. I heard the sudden incantation of, "Lumos."
I noticed that the curtain was actually a very nice looking silver cloak. It looked liquid, but solid at the same time. Then I noticed- "Harry Potter!"
"Pansy Parkinson!" He stared at me. The look on his face led me to believe he was concentrating on one of three things. One- his arm was just around my waist, a Slytherin. Probably quite revolting for him. Two- he had just helped Slytherin from losing points. Three-my nose was quite oddly upturned, as everyone always noticed that. Damn me for getting my mother's nose.
But he didn't say any of those things. He just looked at me with curiosity, "Why were you sneaking about?"
"What does it matter to you?" I asked back, forcing myself not to add 'Potter', to that statement.
He just shrugged, "I guess it doesn't. Not really, but I just needed a walk to set my mind straight, not that you care, and you'll probably report me to Snape tomorrow, but at this point I really don't care." He looked towards the open windows, it was then I realized we were in the Astronomy Tower. I looked at his profile. He was a lot different from Draco. Draco's hair was silvery-blonde, and it fell perfectly into place; Harry's was pitch black and stuck out at all angles. His hair looked like a black blanket on which all of the stars had been laid, of course it was just a reflection, but Draco's hair had never done that... Draco's eyes were grey, and controlled. I had seen the Boy Who Lived eyes burn in green fury, smile along with his mouth, filled to the brim with sadness (which as Slytherins we had loved to bring him)- Harry's eyes were the windows to his soul. Quite literally actually, as the were actually framed. Draco's nose was pointier, and his lips fuller. Harry's nose was perfectly straight, his lips were kind of oddly curvy, now that I think about it. Draco's face was angular. Harry's was more squarish, with a stronger jaw line.
Not only did they look different, but they acted different. In looks, Draco was the Day, and Harry was the Night. In personalities, Draco was the Night, and Harry was the Day. For some reason I'll never know what possessed me that night, but I had already had one of them, and I wanted the other as well. I tilted his chin towards mine, and I laid my hand on the back of his neck, and I kissed him.
To my greater surprise, he didn't turn away. When we broke apart he looked at me through confused green-black eyes, "Why di-"
"Consider it a thank you."
He furrowed his brows, and then kind of smiled, "Well, I really should try saving you a lot more often."
From that night on I knew that I would never regard the Boy Who Lived the same.or those dwelling in his House.
The black leather of the Slytherin couches was cool to the touch. That came as no surprise to me; six years of being a Slytherin had taught me that Slytherin equals cold. I knew I should have worn more than this black nightie. The sudden noise must have attracted his attention for his head swung slowly around. Slowly, gracefully, as usual. Everything Draco did was with class, debonair, a certain coolness, I guess you could say, that made it seem that he was totally in control, of everything.
His grey eyes bore into mine. Like silver meeting onyx. His pale face, which he liked to think of as merely fair, was framed by the silken platinum hair of his. His colorings fit him well, and since he had grown into his angular facial features (about fifth year), he had been one of the best looking guys in school, well, in Slytherin anyways. He smirked. The Malfoy smirk. The kid was quite the charmer, not to mention a fairly good wizard. His family had some of the purest blood in all of England. Still for all that he was, for all his attributes, I couldn't find myself wanting him. Although I was forced to have him.
Many people believe that arranged marriages have died out, at least in all industrialized nations, but in wizarding Europe, that's not the case. Draco Malfoy and I, Pansy Parkinson, have been betrothed since birth. When I was young I didn't think much of it. 'Until death do us part' was something incomprehensible to me at the age of seven, when Draco and I would race our toy brooms through the English maze in his backyard. Plus my mother would always tell me that her and dad were betrothed, and it had been the same for Narcissa and Lucius. I thought it was normal. I thought all wizards were betrothed. Even when I found out this bit of information wasn't so, I still wasn't bothered by our betrothal.until now.
I sat beside Draco, and he pulled me in for a traditional kiss. Lack of passion, lack of emotion, as always. I always knew he didn't want me; just as much as I didn't want him. Infact there is someone he does want. Maybe he even loves her. That is assuming Draco believes in love. You never know what havoc Lucius has wrecked on his brain. I'm not jealous, which is weird as I should be, well if I loved Draco I should be. I guess I don't love him. Still I'm not jealous, but I'm no idiot. I've seen them stealing glances at each other in Potions. Care of Magical Creatures, in the Great Hall. I've noticed how they both seem to disappear at the same times. I know it must be torture for him to harbor a secret love, and have me on his arm in public. Still, he does it for the Malfoy family name. Sometimes I wish he wouldn't. So I could be cut from these chains that hold me back as well.
I kiss back, mechanically. Tucking my chin-length blonde hair, a few shades darker than his, behind my ear. He goes to kiss my neck, and suddenly stops. He looks straight at me.
"These games," he whispers, right before he gets up and leaves me with our shortest snog session ever. I sigh in relief. Still my mind is a stir. I fetch my cloak and creep outside the Slytherin dungeons. I need a walk. I need to clear my mind.
***
I didn't really have a set location, unless you call 'get away from the coldness of the dungeons' a set location. I just walked around, numbly, like a zombie. I had no where to go. Library was a foreign word. I didn't know how to get into the kitchens, well, not exactly. Plus I had to be very mindful of the noise I made. I couldn't lose Slytherin any points, not if we wanted to beat Gryffindor. It was just about the time when I was thinking of where to go, when all of a sudden I heard a big.
*WHAM*
.and I was laying on the floor.
What had I walked into? I looked up, all I could see was thin air. Oh bloody hell.
"I HEARD YOU! UP AND ABOUT AFTER HOURS! AND I'LL FIND YOU TOO!" the scruffy voice of Argus Filch, rang out. Oh bloody double hell. I stood up and started to scramble around trying to figure out what I was going to do, when a hand snatched me, and pulled me under a curtain thing.
"What the h-"
"Shh!" a voice sounded out, "be quiet, I'm going to get us out of here." It was a male voice. He started walking very slowly, and I keep tripping up on the curtain thingy. What can I say, I don't do good under pressure. He held on to my waist and pulled me closer to his side, and whispered, "Maybe now you'll be able to walk."
My pride swelled up and I was about to tell whomever this was that I could walk perfectly well, thank you very much, but I remembered Mr. Filch, so I kept my mouth shut. Now that I thought about it, it really didn't bother me that much to be close to this guy's chest. He had an interesting scent of fire and cinnamon and lemon and steel, that I liked, okay, and little bit of soap in there as well.
He led us up through a spindling, spiral stair case. My calves were really aching by the time we'd reached wherever he'd led us. We sat on a stone surface, and he took the curtain off of us. I heard the sudden incantation of, "Lumos."
I noticed that the curtain was actually a very nice looking silver cloak. It looked liquid, but solid at the same time. Then I noticed- "Harry Potter!"
"Pansy Parkinson!" He stared at me. The look on his face led me to believe he was concentrating on one of three things. One- his arm was just around my waist, a Slytherin. Probably quite revolting for him. Two- he had just helped Slytherin from losing points. Three-my nose was quite oddly upturned, as everyone always noticed that. Damn me for getting my mother's nose.
But he didn't say any of those things. He just looked at me with curiosity, "Why were you sneaking about?"
"What does it matter to you?" I asked back, forcing myself not to add 'Potter', to that statement.
He just shrugged, "I guess it doesn't. Not really, but I just needed a walk to set my mind straight, not that you care, and you'll probably report me to Snape tomorrow, but at this point I really don't care." He looked towards the open windows, it was then I realized we were in the Astronomy Tower. I looked at his profile. He was a lot different from Draco. Draco's hair was silvery-blonde, and it fell perfectly into place; Harry's was pitch black and stuck out at all angles. His hair looked like a black blanket on which all of the stars had been laid, of course it was just a reflection, but Draco's hair had never done that... Draco's eyes were grey, and controlled. I had seen the Boy Who Lived eyes burn in green fury, smile along with his mouth, filled to the brim with sadness (which as Slytherins we had loved to bring him)- Harry's eyes were the windows to his soul. Quite literally actually, as the were actually framed. Draco's nose was pointier, and his lips fuller. Harry's nose was perfectly straight, his lips were kind of oddly curvy, now that I think about it. Draco's face was angular. Harry's was more squarish, with a stronger jaw line.
Not only did they look different, but they acted different. In looks, Draco was the Day, and Harry was the Night. In personalities, Draco was the Night, and Harry was the Day. For some reason I'll never know what possessed me that night, but I had already had one of them, and I wanted the other as well. I tilted his chin towards mine, and I laid my hand on the back of his neck, and I kissed him.
To my greater surprise, he didn't turn away. When we broke apart he looked at me through confused green-black eyes, "Why di-"
"Consider it a thank you."
He furrowed his brows, and then kind of smiled, "Well, I really should try saving you a lot more often."
From that night on I knew that I would never regard the Boy Who Lived the same.or those dwelling in his House.