Let the Darkness Become You

Chapter Two

It was only a month after my sister's departure to Hogwarts for the first time, and already things had become different. My mother immediately informed me that I was to begin my training as a representative of the family name. This included basic skills in my Hogwarts academic studies, a multitude of etiquette lessons, and a certain air of sophistication that I never seemed to grasp.

I was told that all of these requirements would only help to enhance the arts of deceit and manipulation that I would later need to rise in the ranks of my own class. At the time I was confused as to what this meant, but was aware that if I did not perfect every skill to satisfaction there would be dire consequences for my lack of interest.

These lessons continued throughout my remaining years at home, with Mother relentlessly urging me on as I went through tutor after tutor, all of whom had some precise skill to offer me to see me succeed in my set path through life. I often had the feeling of a small ship, bobbing precariously throughout a hurricane with no sail and only the wave of lessons and morals to support me as they guided me through it all. Their way remained my only way of salvation.

The more I tried to row on my own the worse I seemed to do. My only bright points would be when Zella came home for the summer, full of stories of Hogwarts and sympathetic to my struggles.

"It's hard," she confided in me late one night as I lay on her bed, watching her brush her hair one hundred times; as we did every night.

I sighed in frustration. "Why must we do it?"

"Because of who we are," she explained patiently. In the mirror her face was reflected back towards me, showing her surprise. "We are Parkinsons, pureblooded and almost royal compared to others. It is demanded of us-"

"...to fulfill the family name," I chorused along with her, familiar with Mother's teachings.

Zella smiled at me. "You'll get it eventually."

I nodded glumly, all the while dourly thinking that I would never compare to the vision of beauty before me, at least not in my parents' eyes.

Just like during the summers throughout our childhood, there were balls to be attended every weekend. My parents had always remained at the center of proper society, and we were known for our grand parties. Not to mention that our manor, looked out over Pett Beach, its glimmering surface magnificent at sunset.

I was ten at the time, and still not considered old enough to enter the world on my own as a "thinking" individual. Once again I was wearing one of Mother's hand-picked dresses, and it was just as hideous as the others had been. While it was not the trademark black it was almost just as bad - it was pink! And a pale pink at that!

The offending dress did not do anything for me except draw unwanted attention to the fact that I looked like a walking piece of discarded bubblegum. I'm sure that my disgruntled expression did nothing to improve my looks either.

"Nice dress."

I whirled around, preparing to defend what remained of my dignity only to face a girl my own age. Unlike myself, however, she was better dressed for the occasion in a stylish but simple red dress. The dress had obviously been adjusted to shift attention away from her heavyset, rather bland appearance and emphasize a long, elegant neck.

Her hair was an alluring shade of gold and extremely thick, pulled back in a braid. Dark brown eyes narrowed at my somewhat defensive reaction and her strong, masculine jaw was set in disapproval.

Realizing I was staring at her rudely, I immediately closed my mouth. I used the gesture of settling my skirts to school my face into the cool, calculating perception of calm that my mother had ordered me to strive towards in some hope of perfection.

"Thank you," I replied, voice steady. "I'm Pansy Parkinson."

She nodded. "I know," she informed me arrogantly. "You're Zella's younger sister."

It wasn't a question. This wasn't going well at all! Had all of those lessons been for nothing?

The corners of her mouth lifted into a smirk of amusement, making it difficult not to scowl at her. What in Salazar's name was so funny?

"I'm Miranda Bulstrode's daughter."

I stared at her, suddenly recognizing the familiar glint in her eyes, the lifted cheekbones, thin lips. Miranda Bulstrode had been friends with my mother ever since their schooldays and I was just now getting to meet her daughter!

I searched for the name I had heard mentioned before. "Mindy?" I guessed.

She laughed at that, a deep, hearty chuckle. "Millicent," she supplied.

"Why haven't I met you before?" I couldn't resist asking.

Millicent raised a brow. A ridiculous gesture for most our age, but when she did it, it remained classic. "Oh," she shrugged, "you know how it is. Mother didn't think I was ready for a social engagement until I was older."

I nodded, surprised to hear her speak so about her mother. I would have been switched mercilessly for speaking so rudely, not to mention in public! My new acquaintance waited, apparently expecting the same confession from myself but I remained quiet, studying the vaulting columns of our ballroom.

"We will begin at Hogwarts next year," she began again, in a new attempt at conversation.

Eagerly picking up on the topic we discussed our hopes and expectations until dinner was announced. It wasn't until Millicent and I were seating ourselves that I noticed something was different. The table was falling silent, the adults expectantly waiting.

I looked towards my father as he stood, his broad figure impressive, the glint of silver in his black hair the only sign of aging. "Honored guests," he began.

Zella, who was seated across from me, smiled at Neil, who had also managed to attend the ball. For some reason my heartbeat seemed to be pounding against my ears.

"I am privileged as a father to make known to you all that my eldest daughter Zella," he motioned for her to rise, and she did so demurely, eyes downcast, a faint blush spreading prettily over her features, "is now betrothed to Neil Lestrange."

The table reacted automatically, an ardent applause spreading around the room, even though this was what they must have been expecting. I, however, remained staring at my sister in shock, my expression dumbfounded.

Engaged?

At fourteen?

I couldn't believe it. She was just entering her fourth year at Hogwarts and she was engaged! A shadow crept over me as I continued to stare, events slowing...

Zella was smirking at Neil, who looked back at her seriously, arching a sophisticated brow. His eyes seemed too devouring... too assured.

A beaming Mother and Father watched their daughter knowingly as the nearby guests smiled and congratulated them. None of them seemed bothered by the fact that this had all been articulately approved and decided without Zella's agreement. It could have been someone she loathed or didn't even know, other than the handsome boy who now whispered something in her ear, causing her to giggle.

I had no doubts that Zella's betrothal would lead to my own. My entire life would be promised away, all neatly packaged and mailed towards a destiny I suddenly realized I would never get to choose.

"Hello, sis," Neil teased.

He tugged on one of my curls as he strode confidently into our entrance hall, managing to look strikingly handsome as always.

I frowned at him, closing the book I had been flipping through on my way to the family room. Ever since the engagement of Neil to my sister almost a year earlier, he had cursed me with that irritating nickname, one he knew I loathed.

"Where's Zel?" he demanded, dark eyes supervising the servants closely as they took hold of the multitude of bags that had come with him.

As usual, Neil hadn't announced that he was coming for a visit as courtesy demanded. He'd developed a lot of these annoying habits over the past year.

"Shopping with Mother," I answered shortly, brushing away a dark curl.

He grinned at me.

"I can wait. In the meantime, let me introduce you to my guest."

I hadn't realized that someone else was in the room. As I glanced behind him in surprise, he beckoned the other person forward.

"May I present," Neil said with obvious delight, "Draco Malfoy."

I remembered the boy from some years earlier. He had changed some, about as much as myself, I supposed. He was the same height as me and wore his hair slicked back in a horrible attempt to look older than the eleven years he was. He still had that irritating smirk that he had displayed the last time I had seen him.

"Pleasure," I said coolly.

Neil frowned at me but Draco's smirk just deepened. To my amazement, he grabbed my hand and bowed formally over it.

"The pleasure is all mine," he murmured.

I quickly snatched my hand back, not impressed in the least by his attempt at suaveness.

"What are you doing here?"

Both of them raised their brows in surprise. I didn't care if I was rude or not.

"Draco is staying for the summer with me," Neil answered carefully, his frown significant. "We are going to be visiting for a few weeks."

That summer quickly became one of the worst in my life. With only two months until I began my life at Hogwarts, the days seemed to drag by unceremoniously. Protocol demanded that I attend to Draco's every entertainment, as the only hostess his own age. A duty I performed with reluctance.

"What do you want now?" I snapped, as I heard footsteps approach.

I seldom had time to myself these days, and when I did I normally escaped to our gardens, which covered a large portion of the estate. Unfortunately, the attempt to avoid my troublesome shadow did not work. Looking up, my anger deepened as Draco grinned.

"Something bothering you?" he wondered innocently.

"I don't like having to play hostess to a sniveling little brat," I answered rather truthfully.

I expected him to be angry, insulted at least, but he just smirked at me. "I can't exactly say it's been the most pleasurable summer I've ever had."

My eyes narrowed dangerously. "If you had been a little more willing to obe-"

"If you had been a little more interesting!" he interrupted mockingly, face screwed up in an imitation of me at my worst.

I smiled slightly, watching as he looked down to scuff a foot across the gravel, strands of blonde falling across his face.

"Luckily for you, I am leaving today."

Only a strong attempt at control kept my surprise and pleasure from showing. "Oh?" I commented.

"Neil has business to attend to with his father, and I have to go home, too."

He stopped, as if waiting, expecting something.

"A pity," I said sarcastically, rising to walk towards him. "I was hoping you would stay at least another week to make sure my entire summer would be ruined."

He looked up, his eyes meeting my own in a shared joke. Our first in his three-week-long stay. I wasn't surprised when he reached out and captured my hand to bow over it, much as he had done his first day here. Draco was always trying to achieve the suaveness and maturity that would continue to elude him until he grew into adolescence.

"Goodbye, Pansy."

"Goodbye," I replied, watching him walk from the garden, footsteps light on the graveled path.