A/N - As with all of these pieces, I hope to include it in a longer story at some point. This piece doesn't feature a great deal of Draco and Hermione, but they're still at the heart of the piece.
Telling Tales.
It was with an air of smugness that Benjamin Parkinson arrived at Malfoy Manor for the evening's Death Eater meeting. When his daughter, Pansy, had returned home from Hogwarts the previous day, she given him some very interesting information. Information that Parkinson was sure The Dark Lord would be eager to hear. The information would also be a blow to Parkinson's arch rival, Lucius Malfoy. Speaking of which, Lucius was waiting to greet him so Parkinson put on a fake smile and greeted Lucius.
"Lucius, nice to see you."
"You too, Benjamin," Lucius replied, with an equally fake smile. "The meeting's in the dining room. Just down the hall and to your right."
Parkinson nodded as he turned to follow the rest of the Death Eaters into the dining room. Unfortunately for Parkinson he'd never quite made it into the inner circle of Voldemort's Death Eaters, so he had to take his seat half way down the large table that was set up for the meeting. Although at least he had a seat, unlike the poor suckers that were so low down the pecking order that they had to stand around the side of the room.
Taking his seat, Parkinson greeted the Death Eaters he knew as they entered the room and took their seats. Among those who entered and took seats closer to where The Dark Lord would be sitting, were Severus Snape, the Potions Professor at Hogwarts, the Lestrange brothers, Rabastan and Rodolphus, and Rodolphus's wife, Bellatrix, who rumour had it was also Voldemort's lover. Then there were the Death Eaters that were about on his level of seniority, Nott, Greengrass, Crabbe and Goyle.
Finally Lucius strode into the room, followed closely by The Dark Lord himself. When Voldemort entered the room everyone got to their feet, and they only returned to their seats when The Dark Lord signified they could. Settling back down in his seat, Parkinson restrained the urge to just blurt out his news there and then. It would be worth it to see the smug smirk wiped off Lucius's face, however he knew The Dark Lord wouldn't appreciate the interruption. He would just have to wait until the end of the meeting to drop his bombshell.
Instead of listening to Voldemort, Parkinson sat thinking about how good it would be when he finally got one over on Lucius. Lucius had been his rival since the second they started school, and finally Parkinson would be the one to have the upper hand. Despite the fact they both came from wealthy, pureblood families, the Malfoys had more money and power than the Parkinsons and back in school it had been Lucius who was top dog. Lucius had instantly established himself as top dog thanks to his charisma and dominant personality, and Parkinson had to make do with just being one of his gang.
All throughout Hogwarts, Parkinson had played second fiddle to Lucius. Lucius was the prefect, the Slytherin prince, the ultimate bad boy and more annoying he was the wizard all the girls wanted to be with. Lucius had girls hanging all over him in school, and he'd had his pick of witches. Of course he'd picked the girl every red-blooded Slytherin boy wanted, the gorgeous, Narcissa Black. The pair married almost as soon as Narcissa left Hogwarts and together they made a stunning couple, as they ruled the wealthy pureblood circle.
Parkinson had found himself a witch, one he truly loved, but she was no Narcissa Malfoy. Parkinson's wife was pretty, but not beautiful like Narcissa. She was clever, but not as smart as Narcissa. Her parties couldn't hold a candle to Narcissa's, and she wasn't a prominent player in the charity circles like Narcissa. Nor did he and his wife appear in all the society pages like Lucius and his wife.
Then there was the small matter of children. Parkinson loved his daughter, Pansy was the light of his life and he wouldn't change her for anything. However, she did lack the ability to carry on his family name. Parkinson and his wife had tried for many years, and suffered several miscarriages along the way, but they'd never had a son to carry on the family name. However, Lucius had gotten his precious son and heir at the first attempt, and like his father before him, Draco was the established top dog at Hogwarts these days.
Although all that might change with what Parkinson had to say at the end of the meeting. Lucius's charmed life was coming to an end. No longer would he be Voldemort's right hand man when The Dark Lord heard what Parkinson had to say. Parkinson was on his way up, while Lucius was on his way down. Soon their positions would be reversed, and it would be Parkinson who The Dark Lord confided in, while Lucius was left to mingle with the lesser Death Eaters.
Parkinson was so lost in thought, he actually missed the entire meeting. As such, he had no clue what Voldemort had mentioned in the meeting. He only shook himself from his thoughts in time to hear Voldemort dismissing the group. Instantly, Parkinson was on his feet and made his way over to The Dark Lord before he exited the room.
"My Lord, may I have a word," Parkinson asked politely.
"Now?" Voldemort questioned with an impatient sigh.
"It really is most important, My Lord," Parkinson replied. "I have information you need to hear."
"Very well." Voldemort gave Parkinson a sharp nod. "Take a seat, and we can talk when we're alone."
"Thank you, My Lord," Parkinson said, hiding his smug smile as he turned and settled back into one of the chairs near the top of the table.
Parkinson watched as the other Death Eaters filed out of the dining room, most of them giving him curious looks on the way. Parkinson just gave his fellow Death Eaters a knowing smile as they left the room. However, his smile turned into a full on grin when he heard Lucius ask Voldemort if he wanted him to stay, and The Dark Lord dismissed him. It was rather a rush to see the great Lucius Malfoy dismissed in his own house.
"So Parkinson," Voldemort said as Lucius shut the doors behind him as he left the room. "This better be good, I've got plans for this evening."
"Sorry My Lord, I don't mean to intrude on your plans," Parkinson apologised.
"Then get on with it," Voldemort snapped, annoyed at Parkinson's snivelling manner.
There was a reason Parkinson had never risen up the ranks among his Death Eaters, and that was because he annoyed Voldemort with his snivelling ways and weak attitude. The Death Eaters Voldemort valued the most were his strong witches and wizards. The ones who knew their own mind and weren't afraid to use their initiative. Parkinson was none of these things, he was a drone, only doing precisely what was asked of him and nothing more.
"My daughter, Pansy, told me something very interesting when she returned from Hogwarts yesterday," Parkinson began.
"I am not interested in idle gossip," Voldemort interrupted.
"It's not gossip, My Lord," Parkinson protested. "She witnessed something you need to know about."
Voldemort was silent for a moment, before he nodded and head and told Parkinson to proceed. Making sure to hold back his glee, as he didn't think it would go down well with The Dark Lord, Parkinson repeated what his daughter had told him.
"And she's sure?" Voldemort asked with a frown.
"Yes, My Lord," Parkinson replied. "She witnessed it herself."
Voldemort nodded again as he lapsed into silence. Parkinson watched as The Dark Lord clearly mulled over the information he'd just received. Slowly his eyes slid shut, and moments later there was a knock on the dining room doors. Opening his eyes, Voldemort called for whoever it was to enter. When Parkinson turned round, he found Lucius standing in the doorway.
"You summoned me, My Lord," Lucius said, lowering his head respectfully.
"Yes," Voldemort replied. "Tell me Lucius, is Draco around this evening?"
"He's up in his wing, My Lord," Lucius replied with a puzzled look on his face.
"Bring him to me," Voldemort ordered.
"Yes, My Lord," Lucius muttered as he backed out of the room.
Parkinson watched the exchange with glee, and he sat back to wait for Lucius to return with his son in tow. It only took Lucius five minutes before he returned to the dining room, with Draco tagging along beside him. At seventeen, Draco was almost as imposing as his father, and he reminded Parkinson of a teenage Lucius. Like Lucius, Draco exuded an air of confidence and superiority, and Parkinson knew enough about the boy to know that in Hogwarts he was the new Slytherin prince, taking over his father's mantle. However, his crown was about to be tarnished, and Parkinson couldn't wait to witness the fall of the Malfoys.
"Draco, take a seat," Voldemort ordered, pushing out the seat nearest to him, which happened to be directly opposite Parkinson. "You too, Lucius."
The two Malfoy men took their seats without question, and Parkinson was slightly annoyed to see that neither of them looked worried. No doubt they were both curious about what was going on, but they hid it perfectly. As always, Lucius's mask of indifference was firmly in place, and it seemed like Draco had perfected the same look. The two men sat wearing identical calm expressions, waiting for Voldemort to speak.
"Parkinson had brought us some news," Voldemort began. "Parkinson, repeat what you've just told me."
"All of it?" Parkinson checked. It actually rankled him that Voldemort only used his surname, whereas he was on first name terms with Lucius, but hopefully all that would change now he'd proved how loyal he was.
"Every single word," Voldemort answered.
"Pansy told me something very interesting over dinner yesterday evening," Parkinson began, a slight smirk on his lips. "She told me how a few weeks ago she was returning from sending an owl and took a short cut through a rarely used portion of the castle. As she did, she spotted Draco entering a deserted classroom." Parkinson paused for dramatic effect, but he was annoyed to find that Draco hadn't reacted to his tale at all so far. Either he didn't know what was coming, or he was foolish enough to think he could talk his way out of trouble.
"Get on with it, Parkinson," Voldemort snapped as the dramatic pause dragged on.
"Sorry My Lord," Parkinson apologised hurriedly, before continuing with his tale. "Pansy followed Draco to the classroom, and peering in through the door she found he wasn't alone. He was in there with Potter's mudblood bitch."
"I'm sorry, I fail to see the relevance," Lucius said with a bored drawl as Parkinson stopped his story with a triumphant smirk. "Talking to a mudblood isn't ideal, but it's something we've all had to deal with from time to time."
"But he wasn't talking," Parkinson supplied, growing even smugger. "According to Pansy the pair were very cosy. When she left, they were screwing over a desk. I hate to be the one to tell you Lucius, but your son is bedding a mudblood."
Parkinson's smirk grew even wider as Draco lowered his head when Voldemort turned to stare at him. Lucius also gave his son an annoyed glare, before he refocused on Parkinson.
"You know Benjamin, you really should teach your daughter about spying on people," Lucius remarked coldly. "It's just not done in polite society."
"Neither is shagging a mudblood," Parkinson scoffed. "Face it Lucius, your son has well and truly screwed up. Maybe you didn't raise him correctly."
"Thank you for bringing the matter to my attention," Voldemort interrupted in a stern voice. "I am very grateful for your assistance in this matter, Parkinson. However, I trust this will go no further. I expect both you and your daughter to keep quiet about this affair."
"We will, My Lord. You can rely on us," Parkinson vowed, sending Lucius a superior smirk.
"I should hope so," Voldemort said mildly. "If I hear one whisper of what we discussed here tonight, I will know it came from either you or your daughter. And I assure you, I will not be happy if that happens. I take it you understand what I would do in those circumstances?"
"Yes My Lord," Parkinson whispered with a slight gulp. The threat was plain for him to hear, and he knew Voldemort wouldn't hesitate in hurting either himself or Pansy if they spoke out of turn.
"I thank you again for your help, and for keeping this matter quiet. You may leave," Voldemort said, dismissing Parkinson.
Parkinson wanted nothing more than to protest, and demand he remain behind to see what was going to happen to Draco. However, he knew better than to argue with The Dark Lord, so he reluctantly got to his feet. Bowing his head, he said goodbye and giving Lucius and Draco one final look, he turned and slowly left the dining room. He then just as slowly left the manor and returned home, hoping that he would get to find out just how Voldemort had punished the Malfoy boy for dishonouring the dark by sleeping with a mudblood.
/\
After Parkinson's exit, there was stunned silence in the dining room at Malfoy Manor. Voldemort was still sitting in his chair at the head of the table, his focus on Draco. Draco's head had dropped once Parkinson had revealed all, and he was still sitting looking down at the wooden table in front of him. Beside him, Lucius was watching his son, his expression unreadable, even for Voldemort.
"You may leave now, Draco," Voldemort suddenly said in a quiet voice.
"Yes, My Lord," Draco whispered as he got to his feet.
Voldemort waited until Draco was right at the door, his hand on the handle before he called after the young blond wizard. "And Draco." Draco turned back to face Voldemort, and The Dark Lord could see the hesitation on his features. "I do hope you're being careful with Hermione. I don't relish the thought of becoming a grandfather just yet, and I'm sure your father feels the same way."
"Yes, My Lord," Draco replied, his face breaking out into a cocky grin as he realised that Voldemort wasn't mad at him. However, he didn't stick around to push his luck, he opened the door and quickly darted out to return to his room.
"Ah, Lucius, what are we going to do?" Voldemort sighed as Draco disappeared from view.
"Teenagers will be teenagers," Lucius said with a rueful smile. "I hate to say this, but Draco is far too much like me at times. I spent many a fun hour with Narcissa in deserted parts of the castle."
"But you didn't have a secret to protect," Voldemort pointed out. "I thought Hermione and Draco were smarter than that."
"You know what teenage hormones are like," Lucius replied.
"Even so, they've now left us with a problem," Voldemort said. "Parkinson will expect something to be done about this. I can't brush him off and hope he won't say anything."
"We need to let him think you've handled this," Lucius said. "He's been looking for a way to try and bring me down for years, and now he thinks he's found it. He won't be happy unless he think Draco and myself are in trouble."
"Then I'm afraid, you're in trouble, Lucius," Voldemort replied with an amused smile. "Just how good is your acting?"
"It's perfect, My Lord," Lucius answered with a confident grin.
"And Draco's?"
"Just as good," Lucius promised. "Don't worry, we can play the part of Death Eaters out of favour. Parkinson will never suspect a thing. And what about Hermione?"
"I'll deal with my daughter," Voldemort vowed as he got to his feet. "I'll be leaving now, Lucius, but I'll be back tomorrow and we can discuss how to play this with Parkinson. I'm sure we can come up with appropriate punishments for you and Draco."
"I'm sure we can," Lucius said as he walked Voldemort to the front door of the manor. "And rest assured, I'll be having my own private talk with Draco about the risks he and Hermione took."
Voldemort nodded, and saying goodnight to Lucius, he pulled out his wand and apparated from the front step. When he landed he was standing in the hallway of his own manor house, a house no-one but his most loyal Death Eaters knew existed. Heading into the front room, he found no sign of his daughter. However, Hermione's long term nanny, Jean Granger, was sitting doing some needlework. Jean had raised Hermione from an infant, when her mother had dumped her on Voldemort and ran off with another man. Hermione's mother was now dead, as was the man she'd ran off with, and Hermione was quite content with her father and nanny.
"Hermione's in her room," Jean said when Voldemort asked where his daughter was.
"Thank you, Jean," Voldemort replied with a nod, before he turned on his heel and made his way up to his daughter's room.
Voldemort entered Hermione's room and found his daughter lying on the bed, her nose in a book. When he entered she looked up with a smile, but that quickly faded when she spotted the serious look on his face.
"Is everything okay, Daddy?" She asked, sliding a bookmark into her book and sitting up.
"Not really," Voldemort answered as he perched on the side of his daughter's bed. "Parkinson spoke to me after the meeting today. He informed me how his daughter had spotted Draco with Potter's mudblood."
"That evil cow," Hermione muttered, her eyes narrowing at the thought of Pansy. More than likely she'd been following Draco around since she had a crush on him, and didn't seem to get the hints that he wasn't interested in her. "So what's the big deal? Just tell Parkinson we were discussing school work, or prefect duties. If he's as thick as Pansy, he'll buy anything you tell him."
"That might have worked had Pansy just seen the pair of you talking," Voldemort replied. "But she saw more than that. According to her, you and Draco were going at it in an empty classroom."
Hermione blushed bright red at the fact her father knew she was sleeping with Draco. Of course he knew they were dating, but they'd never discussed just how serious the relationship was. Although, she would have much preferred it if her father hadn't discovered she was sleeping with Draco through the gossip of Pansy Parkinson and her horrid father.
"Sorry," Hermione whispered.
"You should be," Voldemort said sternly. "How could you have been so stupid, Hermione?"
"Firstly, Draco and I are both seventeen, and we always use protection of some sort," Hermione argued.
"I wasn't talking about the sex," Voldemort said with an uncomfortable grimace. He would rather not discuss his daughter's sex life, and he could have well done without Parkinson letting him know she'd been getting frisky with Draco in an empty classroom. "I was talking about meeting up in school. You see each other every holiday, could you not have stayed away from each other for the few weeks you're at school?"
"Seriously?" Hermione scoffed. "You expect us to avoid each other for the months we're at Hogwarts? We've been sneaking around just fine, and no-one's ever spotted us before."
"Well now you've been busted," Voldemort said as he got to his feet and began to pace the floor in front of his daughter's bed. "You're just lucky it was the Parkinson girl and her father chose to come straight to me. What if it had been Potter, or one of his cronies? You have one more year to go, and then you can be yourself. Why risk exposure at this point?"
"We were careful," Hermione argued.
"Not careful enough," Voldemort shot back. "Now I've got to make sure Parkinson thinks I've punished Draco appropriately. Although, maybe I should punish him to teach him a lesson."
"Oh no you don't," Hermione hissed as she got to her feet and gave her father a deadly glare. "I will not let you hurt him. If you want to blame anyone, blame me."
"Let me make one thing clear, you are not the boss," Voldemort said in a low voice. "If I choose to punish Draco, it will be my call. Luckily for the pair of you, I'm not going down that route. We're going to put on an act for Parkinson, and you and Draco will do the same for his daughter when you go back to Hogwarts in September."
"What do you want us to do?" Hermione asked warily.
"For a start, control your hormones. No more shagging in classrooms," Voldemort ordered. "As for the rest, we'll decide once Lucius and I have sorted out a full plan. But needless to say, you're going to be more careful next year. We've got plans, Hermione. Don't let these last six years be in vain. Don't let all the ground work you've put in with Potter be for nothing."
"I won't," Hermione promised. "And I'm sorry, Daddy. You're right, Draco and I were careless. It won't happen again, I promise you."
"It better not," Voldemort warned. He gave Hermione a stern glare, to let her knew he meant business, before he slowly smiled at his daughter. "Come on, let's go and have dinner. We can sort this all out tomorrow."
"I do just have one request," Hermione said as she and her father left her room.
"Yes?"
"I want to deal with Pansy personally," Hermione replied with a wicked grin. "She needs to pay for spying on Draco and I, not to mention the tattling."
"I promise, when the time is right, the Parkinson girl is all yours," Voldemort promised, chuckling at his daughter and her bloodthirsty nature.
Poor Pansy, it was the worst thing she could have done, seeing Draco with Hermione. Now Hermione had her in her sights, and she wouldn't be letting her go. You didn't anger the daughter of The Dark Lord and get away with it, as Pansy was about to discover. Pansy Parkinson was doomed, and she would be snuffed out along with those that opposed Voldemort and his followers.