Chapter 1: Confined Spaces
She was supposed to be untouchable, like a distant star.
That's what they wanted of her – to be an admired, lovely but fundamentally asexual creature. She was not allowed to feel desire, or crave intimacy. Sex was all around her, but both the animal drive to mate and the human need for contact were deemed to be beneath her. She tried to pretend that they really were.
Betrothed to the heir apparent of the most important family in Britain, Pansy Parkinson had been groomed her whole life to be the epitome of aloof gentility.
She had the pedigree. Close enough in blood to her betrothed, but not too close. Moreover, she also possessed the physical attributes the Malfoys favored – and they appreciated the beauty of nothing so much as their own looks. Pansy had the same fine facial bone structure and pale porcelain complexion. The same silvery-blue eyes, and platinum blond hair, carefully maintained in a tidy bob identical to Narcissa's. She could have been Draco's sister. All the better to ensure that the next Malfoy heir would resemble his father, as Draco resembled his father and, as the Malfoy portraits demonstrated, previous Malfoy heirs had done for generations.
Pansy would be the mother of the next in that hallowed line. As such, she was expected to keep herself and her body pure for her future husband. Generations ago, she might have spent her entire young life shut away, carefully guarded until her wedding-night like some fairy tale princess in a tower. Pansy often thought that she would have preferred such an existence.
However, an education at one of the premier wizarding schools was now de rigueur, and attending Hogwarts meant that the Malfoys could keep a more careful eye on her. But for Pansy it meant that every day was spent in the public eye, where the slightest misstep might end up as fodder for the gossips, or worse, in the Daily Prophet's society pages. Any interest shown in her by any boy was immediately rebuffed, preferably in public, preferably with a healthy dose of condescension. Danger to her reputation aside, any entanglements would be futile, and could only end in disaster.
Her peers just thought her cold. "She might be pure as snow," one malicious rival had said of Pansy, "but she's also just as frigid." Ice wouldn't melt…
She let them think it.
But it was all a lie.
Pansy leaned back against the cold stone. In the darkness, the sensual sounds of the lovemaking seemed more distinct. The rustle of clothing hastily unbuttoned and pushed aside. The silken rasp of skin moving over skin. The wet sounds of mouths departing one hungry area of flesh to attend to another. A soft, feminine voice making incoherent sounds of pleasure. Draco's voice in concert with hers, breathless, barely more than a murmer, yet still commanding, "Yes, that's it… just a bit more… yes, like that." He moaned with satisfaction even as he continued with hands, tongue, hips to press for still further submission. Pansy felt her body respond, the pulse between her legs growing stronger, her nipples forming stiff peaks that strained against the thin lace of her bra. Her hands skimmed her sides, roughly caressing her own hips and thighs. Draco gave a low, passionate growl and she felt her hips buck in response.
It was slow torture, for Draco's demands for access and gratification were being met by the body of another girl, a Hufflepuff fifth-year whose name Pansy couldn't quite remember. Though Draco might have been aware that Pansy heard them as well. She suspected he knew that she followed him on his conquests, watching silently from the shadows. He might have even enjoyed the thought that she was playing the voyeur – Pansy could not quite read his knowing smile as he recounted his liaisons in the common room, without regard to her presence. In any event, if he did know, he made no attempt to discourage her.
It wasn't precisely jealousy that drove her – for there could be no real rival. Pansy was secure in her position as the future Mrs. Malfoy, though she hadn't chosen that any more than Draco had.
Pansy liked to keep track of Draco's encounters -- which girls he chose, and what he did with them. She tried to discern a pattern, to discover what it was he liked. Who did he fuck more than once? Who did he simply toy with and then cut loose?
So, she wasn't jealous of the girls Draco fucked. But she found that she was jealous of Draco, of his freedom to explore as he would while she… had to fend for herself. Most others, Draco included, had the luxury of deciding what they wanted to do and who they wanted to do it with. It had been decided for Pansy that she would give her virginity to Draco on their wedding night. Even the date had been chosen, before Draco and Pansy had said their first words.
But theirs was not a love-match. It was a contract. She would give him an heir; he would give her the Malfoy name and all that went with it. Not a bad deal at all, unless you considered that Pansy would never know love. Draco might -- heaven knows he'd looked for it under the robes of half their female schoolmates already. Not hers, though. Not yet. Not until the marriage had been made would she be touched. No matter how her body and soul cried out for it.
And even after the marriage, she had no guarantee that Draco would be much of a mate. The terms of their marriage contract were clear on sex as well – after marriage she was bound to Draco alone, while he was bound to her exclusively only until an heir was produced. Once he managed to get Pansy pregnant with a son, he'd never be obliged to fuck her again. Which, if he so chose, would mean that she'd never be fucked again, by anyone. Pansy wanted to make sure that it didn't come to that. If Draco would be the only one she would ever take to bed, she needed to learn how to please him. She needed to make sure that bedding her was more than just duty for him. And so she watched.
Pansy heard the other girl cry out sharply in pain and surprise as Draco entered her with a single stroke. Another virgin fallen to Draco Malfoy, then. The little fool had not played that card very well. She would likely be one of the ones rapidly discarded. Draco liked a conquest, but disliked emotional attachments. And once he'd had them, a deflowered virgin could be right needy.
Draco was placating her even now. "Ah, love, you should have told me. I'd have been more gentle." Draco held his hips still, but did not remove himself from the girl. He was stroking her cheek, and looking upon her with apparent tenderness.
The girl bean to sob slightly, holding tight to Draco's shoulders. "I was afraid… you wouldn't… and I wanted… ah, gods! It hurts!" she whimpered.
"Shhh… you just need to relax a bit, and the hurt will pass." He kissed her gently, to stop the protest forming on her lips. "I promise you, you'll like this once it does." Pansy could just make out Draco's deceptively sweet smile in the moonlight. "Here, now. I'm going to take this very gently." Draco began rocking his hips slowly, helping the girl get used to him.
The girl's eyes were still squeezed shut and her mouth contorted in a grimace. "I'll stop, love, if you really want me to…" Draco purred, dropping his mouth to one of the girl's taut nipples, not stopping the rhythm of his hips. The girl's only response was an incoherent gasp. Pansy had never heard a girl actually ask him to stop.
But Pansy had seen enough for tonight. She was tired, and her body ached with a need for caresses that would not come. Ordinarily, she would have stayed to watch the entire proceeding, to experience what vicarious release she could from watching them bring each other to climax. (She had been somewhat pleased to note that Draco had some skill in satisfying his lovers.) Sometimes, she even stayed to watch the cuddling and pillow-talk that came afterward. But not often, for this did ignite her jealousy. While she understood that sex was something Draco was obliged to withhold from her for the moment, she was hurt that he withheld most other physical contact from her as well. She didn't like to see him lavish tenderness on another when he denied it to her.
Pansy slipped silently from the greenhouse, careful to ensure that none of the moonbeams breaking through the clutches of plants caught her hair. She knew it would glow like a beacon, as Draco's did in moonlight. A few paces away from the greenhouse door, she stopped for a moment, letting the night air cool her overheated body before beginning the long walk back toward the dungeons and Slytherin House.
Once back inside the castle, Pansy dropped her guard a bit and began to walk more easily. The castle was quiet; but it was rather late even for the teachers' nighttime patrols. Only Filch, and occasionally Snape, would be prowling about at this hour, and neither posed a threat to her.
As she neared entrance to the common room, she caught a glimpse of someone sneaking around the next corner. Pansy quickened her pace, keeping her footfalls silent.
Pansy smiled to herself when she recognized the Weasley girl, unmistakable red hair aglow in the torchlight of the dungeon. She crept up behind her, keeping to the shadows. She wanted to wait for the girl to actually dirty her hands with whatever mischief she was planning. One of the few pleasures left open for Pansy was using her prefect's badge to make life miserable for other students, Gryffindors in particular. She was going to enjoy this.
Weasley stopped in front of Professor Snape's office door, drew her wand and whispered an incantation. To Pansy's surprise, the door opened quietly. The girl or her little cohorts must have found out a spell to break Snape's wards. As Weasley made to enter the office, Pansy stepped out of the shadows to confront her.
"Well, well. A midnight raid on Professor Snape's office, is it? They'll have your prefect's badge for this, Weasley."
Ginny Weasley jumped at the words that seemed to come from out of nowhere. Damn. She had rushed down here with barely a thought when the letter came, and then had been so focused on her task that she hadn't heard Parkinson approach. Bloody hell, of all the people… She felt her face flush with agitation as she turned around to face Parkinson, who was standing there with her arms crossed and a smug expression on her face.
"I wasn't… I just needed…" Ginny stammered. What had Parkinson seen? She couldn't let the Slytherin girl know that Snape had given her access to his office. Think, Weasley! "I had a… detention tonight and I… left something in Professor Snape's office."
Pansy smirked. "I see. You forgot something so bloody important that you didn't even notice it was missing until after two in the morning. You needed to have it so badly that you had to break into a teacher's office to get it, rather than simply asking Professor Snape in the morning. Really Weasley, I know Gryffindors are thick, but even you can come up with a better story than that."
"But it's not a… I'm here for my…"
"Or maybe it's just that you don't care what rules you break, since they don't seem to apply to your House anyway." Parkinson sneered.
"But I swear, I…"
Pansy laughed harshly. "Of course you swear," she said, placing her hand mockingly across her heart, "On your solemn, sacred honor as a Gryffindor. And that old hag McGonagall will sweep right in and see that you get off lightly won't she? Poor girl just needed to collect her things. Never mind Snape's privacy or the school rules – those are just secondary concerns. No harm done, right?"
There was real venom in Parkinson's voice, where usually there was just cold contempt. The girl's cheeks were flushed, and her face was contorted with hot anger. She had been stepping closer as she spoke, and was now leaning in so that her face was mere inches from Ginny's. "But I'll report you anyway, Weasley. Professor Snape has a right to know you've been prowling about his office. I'm sure at least he'll see to it that you pay - one way or another."
Ginny was not intimidated. But she still took a step backward, further into Snape's office doorway, to get clear of the girl. She'd heard enough threats and taunts from Parkinson and the other Slytherins that by now she simply shrugged them off. Besides, now that she had recovered from the initial shock of being discovered unexpectedly, she remembered that she was as much a prefect as Parkinson. And a trusted agent of the Order, who still had a mission to complete.
"Fine. You've caught me out." Ginny said, pushing Snape's office door the rest of the way open. "Go ahead and report me. But I'm getting my book," she said the last bit over her shoulder as she turned crisply around and walked into the office before Parkinson could stop her.
Parkinson seemed slightly stunned by her boldness, and it took her a moment to follow Ginny into the office. Ginny had marched straight to Snape's desk and grabbed a book that happened to be sitting there. Her body still blocking Parkinson's view, she slid her father's note out of her pocket and put it on top of a pile of parchments on the center of Snape's desk. As she placed it there, a charm activated so that it would look just like the other student parchments in the pile to anyone but a member of the Order. Snape would see what Ginny saw – the large golden phoenix seal that indicated official Order correspondence. He would notice it immediately when he came to his desk. Ginny could do no more at the moment.
Still clutching the book, Ginny turned back to face the other girl. Parkinson had her wand out. "That's it, Weasley. I'm going to find Snape now. And you're coming with me."
Just then, a loud clatter sounded from further down the corridor, followed by the sound of a young boy calling for help. The two girls instinctively looked toward the open door, then back at each other for a moment, Parkinson looking as though she was unsure of how to respond. The boy called again, spurring Ginny to action.
"Listen, Parkinson. I know you're anxious for justice to be dealt out and all, but there's a boy that sounds like he's in trouble. And I'm a prefect. I'm going to go investigate." Ginny pulled her wand out of her sleeve as she said this, though she did not take aim at the other girl. "You, of course, can do as you like."
Ginny didn't wait for Parkinson to answer. She marched out the door and in the direction of the boy's voice. She heard Parkinson's footsteps behind her.
"Weasley…"
Ginny didn't answer, and didn't break her stride. Parkinson caught up to her, grabbing her arm.
"Weasley. The kid's probably lost. First year, I'll wager. It happens a lot down here."
Ginny looked at her expectantly, but said nothing.
"I know these dungeons a lot better than you. I should… I should come along with you," Parkinson said finally, sounding as if she had just made a decision.
"Glad to hear that. It's only your duty, after all." Ginny said, coolly as she could. She took just a moment to enjoy Parkinson's clear surprise at the rebuke, and continued on her way. Parkinson fell into step beside her but said nothing more until they heard the boy call out again. Ginny started off in what sounded like the direction of the call, but the other girl stopped her.
"Wait. We need to figure out where he exactly is. Sound echoes in here." She stepped in front of Ginny and called out, "Hello? Can you hear me? Shout if you can hear me!"
"I can hear you! Help me!" came the plaintive reply.
"This way," said Parkinson, leading the way toward a dark, narrow corridor Ginny hadn't noticed. Parkinson cast lumos and Ginny followed suit.
Even with the glow emanating from both their wands, there wasn't much light. There were no torches set along the walls here as there were in the areas near the Potions classrooms and the Slytherin dormitories. Ginny slowed her pace instinctively, although Parkinson seemed to know where she was going and moved on ahead of her. It was possible to hear the boy's sobbing now, so she knew they must be getting closer.
Ginny called out to the boy again, to get a better idea of where he was. "Hey kid, we're coming to help. But you need to help us find you. Where are you?"
"I'm not sure. I can't see. It's so dark, and my leg is hurt. Please, come quickly!"
Parkinson started moving quickly in the direction of the boy's voice, with Ginny in her wake. It came from a room that appeared to be built into the base of one of the castle's towers, for its entrance formed a great round protrusion in the wall. The door was open, and thinking only of the sobbing boy, both girls stepped inside.
The heavy wooden door suddenly slammed shut behind them as soon as they had stepped into the middle of the room. They heard what had been a child's voice mutate into loud, cackling laughter. Then the floor, which had appeared to be solid stone, began to descend. As the floor moved downward, it rapidly picked up speed, knocking both girls off their feet. The floor dropped what must have been several hundred feet before coming to a sudden stop.
The girls stared at each other in confusion, and then looked up at the source of the continuing laughter. Peeves.
"Oh, look! The wittle pwefects is trapped!" he taunted. "Caught in one of nasty old lunatic Slythierin's traps!" he continued to laugh as the girls stared up at him.
"Oh help me! I'm lost!" Peeves said, in the little-boy voice again, in case they hadn't realized what he'd done. "Such an easy mark you two were."
"Listen here, Peeves," Ginny said, putting on her best authoritative voice, "You've had your fun. Now let us out of here."
"Ohhh! Listen to the little weasel giving orders to Peeves! Well, just so you know, there is no way out. Soon, even I'll forget you were here!" Cackling with mad glee, Peeves then shot straight up -- back to where they had first come into the room, Ginny assumed. It was so far up in the darkness that she couldn't see.
Panic mounted within Pansy as she realized that they were trapped. There were no doors or windows in their round prison, only the two torches Weasley had found lit the gloom. Her instinct was to claw at the walls, beat upon them with her bare hands. Pansy knew this was useless, and yet the need to do it was almost overwhelming. In her mind she knew that the ceiling was hundreds of feet above them, but still the darkness made the space feel close and oppressive. She could feel the heavy presence of the walls closing in upon her, limiting her air.
Only the presence of the little Weasley chit allowed Pansy to keep her head -- she would not lose her composure, least of all in front of a Gryffindor. She backed up into the center of the room, to get away from the walls.
Pansy watched as Weasley carefully continued to run her hands over the stones, looking for a hidden exit. Attempting to clear her head, Pansy used the calming technique Professor Snape had taught her: she recited potions ingredients. She chose the Draught of Peace -- valerian root, moonstone, hellebore.... She sank to the floor and pinned her trembling hands between her thighs, rested her chin on her knees. She tried to keep her breathing even.
Weasley eventually noticed that Pansy was not helping to look for a way out. She turned around to look at her."What is it? Why aren't you helping me? Waiting for your dear Draco to come to the rescue?" Weasley asked with contempt.
Pansy raised her head and made an unsteady attempt to stick out her chin in defiance. Show no weakness! She wanted to utter the scornful retort the little bitch deserved, but couldn't quite find the breath to speak.
Weasley took a step closer, looking at Pansy with sudden concern. "Are you okay?"
All Pansy could manage was a whimper. She flushed scarlet with humiliation. She was a disgrace to her House. She turned her head away.
Ginny moved to the floor beside Parkinson. She could see that the Slytherin girl was very scared. She was too terrified to even bother to insult a Weasley.
Tentatively, Ginny put a hand out to her shoulder to comfort her. At that, Pansy found her voice. "Don't," she said, shrugging Ginny's hand away.
"Listen, Parkin-- Pansy. It's going to be okay."
"HOW is it going to be okay?" Pansy half-shouted, half-sobbed. "We're trapped. We're going to die in here!" Pansy knew she was raving, her hands gesticulating wildly. She couldn't stop. "No one knows we're here. We're running out of air, and I can't even hold my wand. I need... to get out... I need..." She was overpowered by the urge to cry, deep racking sobs that shook her body.
Ginny knew this wasn't good. She had heard of people who could not bear closed spaces, and it looked like Parkinson was one of them. They were in enough trouble already -- Ginny didn't need a hysterical Slytherin as well.
Well, she had learned much from her mother about how to comfort irrational terrors. She only hoped a little comfort would be enough. Ginny put her arms around the sobbing girl, smoothing Pansy's pale, damp hair away from her face.
Pansy allowed herself to be held. To her surprise, it was taking the edge from her terror. The embrace was warm, and safe and somehow… right. She'd often wished Draco would hold her like this...
Pansy forcibly pushed all thoughts of Draco out of her mind. She wanted to concentrate on Ginny's soft fingers stroking her cheek. On Ginny's soft lips whispering words of comfort against her forehead.
Ginny felt the girl relax in her arms, and deep tenderness welled up within her.
It made her feel strong, protective. She took Pansy's face in her hands.
"Pansy, look at me. I will get us out of here. You stay here, and try to stay calm. Breathe easy. Everything will be alright."
Pansy let herself believe it. She looked up at Ginny with undisguised gratitude. Ginny would save her.
TBC
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A/N:This story is based on a ficlet I wrote in response to LeoGryffin's Challenge #10 at LiveJournal's 30minutefics, which was:
Two HP characters are locked in a room of Hogwarts with no apparent way out. One of them is claustrophobic, and the other has to figure out a way to calm them down.