Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.
Chapter Nine
Draco's head pounded. A night of alcohol and fancy shagging would do that trick every time. But this time it was different. This time, it wasn't just Draco's head that was hurting. It was his heart.
"Fuck this," Draco muttered, throwing Pansy's arm aside and pulling on his boxers. He checked the digital clock on her nightstand—10 p.m. Ron would be worried sick, he thought, grimacing. He felt sick. Draco stood up and pulled on the rest of his clothes, which were wrinkled and stained with the whiskey he had spilt. He stopped still when he heard Pansy stir in bed, but she just rolled over, her eyes closed, her mouth slightly open. He had the urge to spit on her, to desecrate her. Stupid, dirty whore, he thought. What had gotten into him. Jesus fucking Christ, what had gotten into him?
Fred and Pansy, apparently, he thought bitterly, pivoting out of the room. The loud Crack! of his apparation gave the redhead in the bed he stood beside a fright, Ron jumping up and reaching for his wand.
"Bloody hell," Ron mumbled, turning on the light. "Where the hell were you?"
"I received Order business," Draco said. It was the truth, partly. Ron closed his eyes and sunk his head back on the pillow.
"Are you feeling better?" Ron asked.
"What's that?" Draco asked, pulling off his shirt and pants and not even bothering to get into a nightgown.
"Do you feel better?" Ron repeated. "You said you felt sick today, remember…?"
"I still feel sick," Draco said, speaking the truth once again. "Like shit, as a matter of fact."
"I'm sorry," Ron said. Draco shrugged and crawled into bed, cringing as Ron put an arm around him. How could he let Ron touch him now? Ron was also touching Fred, was touching Pansy, was touching all of Draco's lies. Draco was dirty, and he didn't want to make Ron that way. He backed away, trying to think of an excuse.
"I don't want to get you sick," Draco said, rolling over. But Ron was already snoring, and Draco was lying wide-eyed in bed, wondering what the hell he was going to do next.
"Morning Draco, Ron." Harry Potter stood in the front of the room, leaning down over the table where he had some papers—and the file Harry had given Draco regarding his mother's whereabouts.
"Morning, Harry," Ron said, yawning. They were the first ones here—Pansy, Neville, and Alexandra were yet to arrive. Thank God, Draco thought. He was anxious to see Pansy, and not in a good way. Would she say anything? Would she try to make another move? Would he even be able to resist it?
"Pansy still in?" Harry asked. Draco cocked an eyebrow and looked up at Harry, who was looking at him expectedly.
"Excuse me?" Draco asked.
"Is Pansy still going to talk to Narcissa?"
"Oh. Yeah. She's in."
Draco exhaled a sigh of relief, but this didn't hold long—Alexandra and Neville entered together after a couple of minutes, saying their hellos and taking their seats, and no less than minute later Pansy walked in. Draco looked straight at Harry, his body tensing, but Pansy made no move to sit beside him. She didn't even say hello.
"Pansy," Harry said, and Draco winced at the sound of her name.
"What's wrong?" Ron whispered to Draco. "You look tense."
Draco shook his head.
"Jesus, Draco, are you about to vomit?" Ron asked again, his voice edging with worry. Draco shook his head, but the nerves in his stomach were rising, and he stood up suddenly.
"Excuse me," he said, and walked swiftly to a nearby bathroom where he leaned over the toilet and puked up alcohol and stomach acid. Little red bits were floating in the toilet and Draco's head felt like it had been stabbed with a cursed wand. The vomiting didn't make him feel one bit better, as he still had to go back and be in the same room as Pansy.
"Get a hold of yourself," he said, and slowly, he stood up, his legs shaking. He wiped his mouth off with a paper towel and stared at himself in the mirror. Other than the dark circles under his eyes, he didn't look that bad. Just one perk to being a Malfoy, he supposed. Draco took a deep breath and walked back out into the conference room.
"You okay there, mate?" Harry asked. Draco nodded and sat back down. "Okay. So I'll fly in front, Pansy, you and Draco fly behind me—"
"What?" Draco said abruptly. He cast a look at Pansy but she just smiled.
"You're taking Pansy," Harry repeated. "She can't fly as well as you. And the rest of you circle. When we get to the house, we'll all wait outside except for Pansy. Alexandra and I will be waiting by the windows to watch if anything goes wrong, and Pansy, you know the signal if you sense that you're in danger…"
Pansy nodded. "Scratch my left ear."
"Right. Is everyone ready then?"
Everyone stood up and Pansy walked over to Draco, who took a step back.
"Are you ready, Draco?" she asked, peering up at him. He said nothing, but clenched his jaw and walked outside with the others. Once outside, Draco mounted his broom, Pansy climbing on behind him and putting her hands around his waist. She leaned into his ear.
"Be careful, then, Draco," she said. Draco kicked off and waited for the others to be far away enough so that they couldn't hear him speak.
"I suppose this was your idea," Draco snarled, taking a sharp dip on purpose just to throw Pansy a fright. She gasped and dug her nails into his stomach.
"No," she said. "It was Potter's. He's not all bad I suppose."
Draco snarled and turned to the right, following Potter's lead.
"Why did you leave without a good-bye?" Pansy whispered over the wind.
"Consider my leave a good-bye," Draco snapped.
They rode for the next twenty minutes in silence, with nothing but the wind in their ears.
"We're going to land!" Harry yelled.
"Isn't it at least two blocks away from here?" yelled Neville. But they all followed Harry and lowered their brooms, landing in a dark alleyway. Draco immediately jumped off his broom and walked away from Pansy, over to Harry.
"Yes," Harry said to Neville. "We're going to walk the rest of the way."
"Do you know what you're going to say to Narcissa?" Harry asked, turning to Pansy.
"Yes."
Draco and the others stopped in front of a street sign; Lightning Rd. it read. Draco didn't need anyone to tell him that it was the shabby looking home at the end of the street. Harry motioned to the others. Draco and Neville went to one side, Ron to the other. Harry and Alexandra crouched in the bushes beside two windows and Draco watched in mild disgust and slight anxiousness as Pansy walked up the front steps and knocked on the door. The mission was in her hands now.
---
Pansy stood her ground when a tall, heavy man with a scrubby beard and pit stains opened the door, a beer in one hand and a gun in the other. Muggle, Pansy thought.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked, spitting through the holes in his nearly toothless mouth. "You're not the landlord are you? Fuck, we paid the rent two days ago."
"We?" Pansy asked.
"Yeah, me and the Misses." He motioned inside. "Hey Missy, there's a girl here." Pansy shoved her way past the man.
"Hey, what—"
"It's fine, John," a voice said from inside the dark room—Pansy couldn't see the woman because she was hidden by the shadows, but she recognized the dark, smooth voice of Narcissa Malfoy.
"Whatever…" John mumbled, closing the door and grunting dirty swears as he walked into another room.
"Come here," Narcissa said. "Let me see you."
"Do you know who I am?" Pansy asked, taking a small step forward. The shadowy figure moved forward too, the dusty light illuminating her silver-blonde hair. She took another step, and Pansy stared in silence as Narcissa revealed herself—a pale beauty, thin and hollow-looking, her eyes as sharp and light as her son's, her hair tied back from her face. Narcissa smiled coldly.
"Of course I know who you are, Pansy Parkinson. Now the question is, why are you here?"
Pansy took a deep breath. All she had to do was tell Narcissa the truth now. Well, nearly the entire truth, she thought. There was one tiny detail she would have to lie about…
"Narcissa, there are things I need to tell you," Pansy said. Narcissa motioned for her to sit down and Pansy did. Narcissa sat on an opposing chair and stared straight into Pansy's eyes, her frosty stare drilling into her.
"Go on," the blonde said.
"As you know, I used to be a Death Eater," Pansy spoke.
"Yes," Narcissa hissed. "And if I remember correctly, you left that loyalty behind. And now my husband still rots in Azkaban, and I have lost my only son."
"The Death Eaters fell apart," Pansy said. "The majority have been captured by the Order."
Narcissa spat. "Ah, the precious Order."
"I belong to a special section of the Order called the Righteous. We specialize in capturing former Death Eaters."
Narcissa drew her wand immediately and pointed it at Pansy.
"If you have come to capture me, you are terribly mistaken."
"I haven't," Pansy said impatiently, gripping her own wand beneath her robes. "I know that you were not a Death Eater."
Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "Then why have you come?"
Pansy leaned forward. "I have come to unlock the whereabouts of your sister, Bellatrix Lestrange."
"Why?"
Pansy raised her sleeve. "I am still loyal to the Dark Lord, Narcissa."
Narcissa laughed. "A foolish loyalty. The Dark Lord is dead."
"But Bellatrix isn't. There is still hope for us."
"Who are you with?"
"Excuse me?"
"There are others here. How many?"
Pansy hesitated. "Five."
"Who?"
"Potter. Weasley. Longbottom. Fralinger."
"And?"
"And Draco."
Narcissa looked away.
"I do not trust you, Pansy," Narcissa said. Pansy stood up and walked over to Narcissa, lowering herself to her knees, taking Narcissa's hands and looking up into her eyes.
"I swear to you that my loyalty does not lie with them. I want to join your sister. I want to join her in her efforts to recover what our Dark Lord could not complete—"
Narcissa gripped her hands tightly and pulled her up, their faces mere inches away from each other now.
"You are a liar," Narcissa hissed, releasing her. Pansy thought hard. Suddenly, an idea occurred to her.
"I will make the Unbreakable Vow," she said. Narcissa laughed.
"You silly girl. There are not enough people here for that and you know it."
"I could retrieve your son," Pansy said.
"I do not have a son."
This was where Pansy had to lie. Her attempts to persuade Draco had fallen short when he had left her last night. But she couldn't go to Bellatrix without first securing Draco. She would just have to convince him in the mean time. Which meant that Draco could not help them make the Unbreakable Vow, not yet. She was putting all of her faith in a bluff.
"Draco still worships the Dark Mark," Pansy said. Narcissa studied her carefully.
"How do you know this?"
"He told me…" Pansy said. "The other night. When I confessed to him that I was not faithful to the Order, he told me that he wasn't either."
"Liar."
"Please, Narcissa…"
Narcissa grabbed Pansy's face with two sharp, bony fingers, and Pansy lowered her gaze, lest Narcissa know she be lying.
"I will not believe this about my son until he comes to me and tells me." Narcissa laughed, pushing Pansy away. "You need not make the Unbreakable Vow, not yet. If Bellatrix finds you, and discovers that you are a liar, she will kill you herself."
"I am not lying. I am faithful to her."
"Tell her yourself."
"Tell me of her whereabouts and I will."
"No," said Narcissa. "I will tell her of your whereabouts, and she will come to you."
Pansy nodded.
"Do it."
"I will."
Pansy stood up and headed toward the door. "I hope that in time you can believe me."
"And I hope that in time, people can learn to be believable."
Pansy didn't see the others until she was at the end of the street, and Harry walked up to her.
"Did you discover it?" he asked.
"No. But I will meet Bellatrix."
"How?" Harry asked feverishly.
"She will come to my home," Pansy said. Harry clenched his fists. "And we will be waiting."
"No!" Pansy said, catching Harry off-guard. "She is too powerful, even for you, Harry. You will be killed."
"Hah!" Harry said. "We'll be waiting for her."
"Maybe…maybe Pansy's right, Harry…" Neville said, stepping forward. "If we all wait for her, Narcissa won't trust Pansy anymore…and Bellatrix won't…if we fail to kill her once, it will be even harder another time…"
"I agree," said Fralinger. "We need a plan. We need someone on the inside. We need Pansy to do some of this alone."
Harry's face grew hot.
"Bellatrix is mine."
Ron put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "In time," he said. "You will have her in time."
"If we wait, find out where she is staying, when Pansy can tell us of her location…then, we can strike," Draco said.
"And you can defeat her," Pansy said, staring up at Harry. "Just give me time."
"Fine," Harry said, mounting his broom. "Let's leave."
Pansy cast a look at Draco before getting on the broom behind him. He was still stiff around her, his body still tense. She lay her head on his shoulder but he could do nothing about it. If he hated her now, how would she ever get him to listen to her about Narcissa? She cradled her forearm, looking at Draco's, which was covered by his long-sleeved shirt. Pity, Pansy thought. He has such nice arms to always be covering them up. She would just have to apologize to Draco, ask him to be her friend. Then…she could bring him to Narcissa. Then, she could reunite the pair and bring him to the other side. It was a dangerous game she was playing, but it was worth it. Soon, she would see Bellatrix again. Soon, she would be reunited with her true path.