Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. ( But I enslave them in my free time! ;-D

Chapter Three

When You Come Around

Pansy was used to Draco looking flustered and/or annoyed—after all, most of his encounters involved Harry Potter, which Pansy didn't really understand, and so she chose to ignore. But today, Draco looked especially irritated, and she knew why: Millicent wouldn't leave him alone.

"Why can't I be less attractive?" Draco whispered outside in the courtyard, during a brief moment when Millicent had to use the bathroom. It seemed that every time Pansy looked at Draco, Millicent was hanging all over him.

Draco grabbed Pansy by the wrist and tugged her along.

"Come on," he said. "Before she comes back."

"What's going on?" Pansy asked when Draco had hidden them stealthily behind a tree.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I can't get away from her!"

"Do you want to get away from her?"

"Okay Pansy, look," Draco said. "I kind of did something ridiculously stupid last night."

"Which was…" Pansy asked, but she already knew the answer.

"I—why are you smiling?"

"Oh, am I?" Pansy blushed. She hadn't meant to smile, but she was so relieved that Draco considered his little kiss with Millicent "ridiculous" that she just couldn't help it.

"Okay—whatever, listen Pansy. Last night, Blaise had firewhiskey, and I had a little too much than I should have, and Millicent was hanging around and she kind of looked good in the dark, and I kissed her…"

"Oh?"

"And now I guess she thinks we're getting married or something."

"You don't want to marry her?" Pansy teased.

Draco sighed and crossed his arms. He peered over Pansy's shoulder and his eyes widened with fear. "Ohmigodhereshecomes."

"Draco! Pansy, you guys…what are you doing back here?" Millicent said, eyeing them. Pansy shrugged.

"It's Draco's favorite place," Pansy said, smirking to herself. She glanced at Draco, who was glaring at her. "I'll see you two later."

Millicent's mood has definitely changed from last night when she had come into the room positively glowing over her kiss. Tonight, she stalked in without a sound and fell right into bed. Pansy would have felt sorry for her if she didn't think she deserved it.

"Pansy," Millicent said in the dark.

"Yes?"

"What did Draco say to you behind the tree?"

Pansy thought. "Nothing. I mean, nothing you want to hear."

"What do you mean nothing I want to hear?"

"That's what I mean. You don't want to hear what he said."

"It was bad?"

"I'm not saying anything else. Ask him if you need to know."

Pansy rolled over in bed.

"I don't have to," Millicent sniffed. "After you left, he told me he was sorry if he gave me the wrong idea, that he was drunk when he kissed me and he didn't mean anything by it. He still wants to be friends."

Pansy grinned from ear to ear, not bothering to hide it in the dark room.

"I'm sorry," Pansy said finally.

"Sure you are," Millicent grunted, and she didn't say another word.

"I have to ask you something."

"What is it?"

Pansy and Draco were studying in the library—actually, they weren't really studying. They were sitting behind a high stack of books smoking one of Blaise's imported Muggle cigars, which Pansy rather fancied.

"Well," Pansy said. "Millicent told me that you wrote to her all summer."

Draco snorted, a small puff of smoke clouding around him.

"Did she?"

"Yes."

"Oh Pansy, I wrote her like two letters, after she wrote me like five of these horribly long, detailed essays about her summer…"

"Oh," Pansy said, and she stole the cigar out of Draco's mouth and shoved it in her own to suppress her grin.

"Why do you care, Parkinson?"

She ignored the question. "Can you get more than one cigar from Blaise next time? I want my bloody own. This one tastes like you."

Draco looked at her, smiling slyly. "Yeah, I'll ask."

Draco was free of Millicent, which let Draco and Pansy go and do together as they pleased. On this particularly cold day, they were taking a stroll outside; most everyone was inside, enjoying cocoa and the fire, and the students who were outside were playing in the snow. Not Draco and Pansy. They were taking a stroll on the lawn, arms linked in a friendly manner that only the two of them could understand.

Pansy was smoking a cigarette, the smoke appearing to look only like her own cold breath.

"Can I ask you something?" Pansy said.

Draco didn't answer, which meant yes.

"Who do you think opened the Chamber?"

"I don't know," Draco said, gazing down. He kicked a ball of snow. "I wish I knew."

"People think it's you," Pansy said.

"People think it's Potter."

"It isn't Potter."

"Of course not."

"And it isn't you."

"No, it isn't."

They were silent.

"What do you think of all of that?" Pansy said.

Draco took her cigarette, took a drag.

"I really don't know."

Pansy sat down in the snow and Draco followed, heads together.

"Are you coming around this summer?" he asked suddenly. Pansy glanced at him.

"I suppose so. Why?"

Draco shrugged. "It's more fun when you come around."