Chapter One: Trouble
Beauty queen of only eighteen
She had some trouble with herself
-- She Will Be Loved, Maroon 5
She was not the most gorgeous of girls, but, then again, neither was he the most gorgeous of guys. Well now, that was a lie, for Draco Malfoy was certainly a most gorgeous guy. He had that sinister white smile, those gorgeous icy eyes, that platinum blonde hair, and those Quidditch muscles. So, Pansy thought, it was normal to like him.
"No, I go well beyond like and way into the territory of love," Pansy thought as she, Daphne Greengrass, and Millicent Bulstrode sat in the corner of Hog's Ear, the new pub in Hogsmeade. The Hog's Head had been destroyed during the final battle of the Second War again Voldemort, one that all three of these women had participated in, although on different sides.
Pansy had been a Death Eater for sure, loving every minute of it. Despite the fact that Daphne has tried to turn her and Millicent to the side against Voldemort, Pansy never would have done it. She was a Death Eater by both birth and ideals, and she would never have turned against the Dark Lord.
Of course he had lost, as everyone had known he would. That damned Harry Potter had just been too strong for the Dark Lord. Pansy had not wavered in her support for him, and that, as her parents had told her on their deathbeds, had been a sign of bravery.
Luckily, she had not been one of the most active of Death Eaters, seeing as she was quite the noticeable girl. Pansy was tall, a fairly normal weight, and had long, curly blonde hair. She may not have been quite so pretty, but what was most noticeable about her was her eyes. During a very awful battle of the Second War, she had been hit by some kind of strange spell and it had changed her eyes from their original color to a deep red.
Her eyes identified her instantly, and although she had tried to change them back to their original color, it hadn't worked. She was "scarred" for life, and she had had to deal with that, in her own way. That way was to become as involved in Voldemort's plans as possible, and to help at the only level she could. That level was producing spells.
Although she had told no one, she had been the one to produce the spell that killed Hagrid, Dumbledore, McGonagall, that two-timing bastard Snape, Flitwick, Mrs. Norris and Filch, Percy Weasley, Cornelius Fudge, Dean Thomas, Colin and Dennis Creevy, and of course, Dolores Umbridge. Pansy had gotten quite a kick out of that, seeing as she had always hated the old cow.
Of course, no one knew about that. She had to keep it a secret, for her protection and, during the war, for the good of the Dark Lord. Now it was all over, but Pansy didn't want to draw any more attention to herself than being a former Slytherin and Death Eater brought. Living was all she could do now, and if her secret got out there would be no more of that for her.
"Why Pansy, I believe you're mooning again. Or, should I say mooing?" Millicent taunted, which snapped Pansy out of her reverie. She turned her cold, red stare on Millicent, and that immediately stopped whatever the girl had been about to say.
That was one of the reasons why Pansy was so insecure; the taunting that Millicent and the other girls in Slytherin House had bestowed upon her in all of their nasty grace. Pansy had been slightly chubby at Hogwarts but now, at age 18, she had finally gone on a diet and lost enough weight to look good.
Well, almost.
"I'm not mooning, Millicent," Pansy hissed back, moving her gaze along to Daphne. This girl had never taunted Pansy outright, but she always had that sickening smile on her face whenever the taunting occurred. Now though, the smile was there for a different reason.
"Then why were you staring straight at Draco Malfoy?" Millicent asked just a little too loudly. Pansy leaned low over the table and shook her head, holding a finger up over her mouth in a silencing gesture.
"I was not," Pansy admonished, even though she had been.
Even Millicent Bulstrode had to admit that Draco Malfoy was a babe of the first order, especially now that he was a famous Quidditch player. Who wasn't mooning over him? Pansy was still mortified though, an emotion that she was repulsed by. "What kind of Parkinson am I, holding up the family honor with a red face and fat thighs?" Pansy thought morosely as she stood up to leave.
Draco Malfoy caught up with her about halfway through Hogsmeade. Pansy had felt someone following her, but when she turned around to face her "attacker" she had been shocked to find that it was him. Draco Malfoy, follow her? Why in the world would he do that? And she had no qualms about asking him just that.
"Well, you left the Hog's Ear in quite a huff Pansy," Draco informed her, his voice flat and devoid of emotions. Pansy knew what was going to come out of his mouth next, and she didn't really want to hear it. One of Draco's main character traits was his affinity for making biting remarks. And those remarks certainly bit into her.
"I'm not in the mood for this today, Malfoy," Pansy told him outright, turning on her heel and stalking off. She was not at all surprised when he followed her.
It had always been like this, ever since their first year. Pansy had mooned over Draco (in private of course) and he had repaid her with nothing but nastiness. Not that she wanted it any other way, although it would have been easy to live without his biting remarks. They always did dig a little too deeply into her insecurities.
"That's why we would never work," Pansy was constantly telling herself. "Draco is splendid at witty, biting comments, and I take them too personally." That was that, she has decided. Draco had always hated her the most, and he always would. She had always loved him the most, and she always would. That was the way of the world, and that was that.
"In the mood for what, Parkinson?" Draco asked, his long legs helping him keep a leisurely pace next to her. Pansy inclined her head slightly, just enough so that he could see her scowl. She knew he liked it when she was annoyed, so she was playing along in his little game. No reason not to, seeing as he was going to play it anyway.
"Sod off you bloody prat," Pansy retorted, picking up the pace of her walk. Suddenly, she realized that she could always just Apparate home. "No fun in that, is there? Maybe I can see how much Draco will extract from me before the day is done," Pansy thought wryly, continuing to walk.
"Ooh, Parkinson's getting mad," Draco taunted, his usual insulting prowess not yet fully unsheathed. But, Pansy knew, he was not finished with her yet. So she did not answer, waiting for him to bare his teeth, dripping with venom.
"Parkinson?" Draco asked, sounding a lot less sure of himself this time. At this loss of cockiness (which was completely out-of-character for Draco), Pansy stopped short and turned to stare at him. So, he had changed tactics, had he? Well, so would she.
"Draco, what do you really have against me? Why is it that you are always taunting me? Did I do something wrong, do you think? Was it that daft arranged marriage that our parents ended on all four of their deathbeds? Or was it something else Draco? Was it me? Am I that repulsive?" She felt tears prick the edges of her eyes, and knew that it had to stop. But, before she could make a move to Apparate out of there, Draco answered her questions.
"What do you think it was, Parkinson? What else would it be but you? You're ugly, slimy, nasty, fat, and useless. What could you do for the Dark Lord after you let that stupid mudblood, Granger, change your eyes? Nothing, that's what you could do, but you hung around anyway, causing all sorts of problems."
"Causing problems?" Pansy asked, completely appalled. The ugly and fat part had stung, but once Draco had made light of her service to the Dark Lord, she was pissed. But, no words of retaliation came other than those, so she simply waited.
"Why the bloody hell was the Dark Lord calling you at all hours of the day if you weren't causing problems?" Draco asked snidely, a familiar smirk plastered on his face.
"Damn, I forgot that Death Eaters can hear when any other Death Eater is called. I bet they all think I was a nuisance, even Millicent!" Pansy thought, and that was enough for her. The thought of being viewed as a disgrace to the Dark Lord was too much for her to handle. Her parents had thought it, her friends had thought it, her siblings had thought it, and now, she knew, every other Death Eater thought it too.
Right before she Apparated home, Draco could have sworn that he saw tears making noticeable tracks on her cheeks.