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Part One | Strike the Match
Six. Wait for my Owl
Had there been a mirror within Pansy's line of sight she would have seen that her pale face, although perhaps whiter than usual, had somehow managed to stay the epitome of calm.
Internally, she was screaming.
Focussing on nothing but keeping her breathing steady, Pansy watched Rabastan's mouth twist, the corners upturning, dimples forming in a line on each cheek. His barely-a-smile smile gave Pansy the uncomfortable feeling it was rarely used for social niceties. Rabastan Lestrange was probably totally hot when he was younger, as Daphne had argued, and indeed, even Pansy couldn't view him as an unattractive man. He was tall-ish, and although hard to tell due to the large leather waistcoat, similar to a Muggle biker cut, he looked to still have a reasonably fit physique. The top half of his head was covered with a mop of thick curls, the shade only lighter than Pansy's by a smidge. He wore his facial hair in the form of a moustache and a goatee-style beard covering his chin. His skin, unlike so many of his fellow formerly-incarcerated Death Eaters, wasn't sallow, nor did it feature the same permanently wild haunted look that Pansy had come to associate with the few times she had seen his sister-in-law Bellatrix.
It was his eyes, however, that were Rabastan's most striking feature. They bored into Pansy's own, too grey to be blue, yet too blue to be grey; two pools of sheer ice both physically and metaphorically, they held no trace of warmth in either colour or appearance.
Pansy glanced at her father, the first time she had done so since entering the study. Cassius was sitting behind his desk, seemingly having eyes for nothing and no one bar the lowball glass he was currently turning through his long fingers. The short tumbler encased a small measure of brown liquid Pansy easily identified as firewhisky.
Exhaling a deep breath Pansy hadn't realised she'd been holding, she turned her attention back to Rabastan, now on his feet and making the few steps needed to close the gap between the two of them. You seriously could have stayed where you were.
"Pansy." The way Rabastan voiced her name sent a lone shiver throughout Pansy's entire upper body. Never particularly liking her name, Pansy had grown accustomed to it, and even begrudgingly admitted that it somehow suited her. But now, the way in which Rabastan said the word with his raspy drawl, Pansy realised she hated how her name sounded when the sound rolled off his lips. She watched the man in front of her open his arms as he firmly clasped each of Pansy's shoulders. His icy iris' peered into her own green ones before he pushed a rough, stubble-clad cheek against her own, he proceeded to hold there far longer than Pansy deemed was necessary, wanting nothing more than to tell him to stop touching her face, you creepy fuck!
Rabastan finally drew himself away from her, taking a single, slight step back, his hands remaining lodged on Pansy's shoulders. She watched his face as it distorted into the same twisted smile as before as though the very act of smiling in such a circumstance was foreign. Which to him, Pansy knew, it probably was.
"Your father," Rabastan began as he gestured in the general direction of Cassius's desk behind him. Pansy decided to take advantage of the release of his right hand from her left shoulder and sidestepped away from the Death Eater, instead perching herself on a nearby chair, "-invited me to your home in the hope that we could all get to know," his frosty gaze lingered on Pansy's face as he said the last word, before unashamedly drifting southwards. He openly leered at Pansy's body, prompting her to cross both arms over her chest and hide as much of herself as she could whilst struggling to maintain a great deal of self-control. Normally, anyone, except, apparently, this psychopathic murderer, who stared at her so unreservedly would have been, at worst, unapologetically cursed and, at best, hurled with obscenities. My face is up here, dickhead, "-each other a bit better." Rabastan concluded; demented smile and lingering eyes both back in place with a vengeance. What? Umm no, thank you.
Pansy didn't dare voice her lack of enthusiasm as her eyes searched the office. Lilith stood by the door, having clearly entered the room at some point in the conversation without Pansy's notice. Cassius stared into his tumbler of firewhisky, the same look of disinterest still etched upon his aging face. Rabastan was standing with his backside leaning casually on Cassius' large desk, arms loosely crossed, his right leg folded in front of his left with the toe of his right boot resting on the dark wooden floor. He looked at her with an expectant air.
"Ehh..." Pansy began. She had nothing. What the fuck am I supposed to say? Pansy took a deep breath, willing herself to say something. At this point, anything will do, brain!
Thankfully, Pansy was spared the daunting task of replying to Rabastan's statement as Cassius's whisky glass shot into the air landing three feet to the left. The Parkinson patriarch, who was on further inspection currently clenching both fists, had his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Pansy watched her father take several deep breaths as his expression became thunderous. Rabastan was watching him with eyebrows raised, his face a condescending smirk.
"We, err-" Cassius blustered, his voice a deeper pitch than usual. "Rabastan and I, I mean, we need to go."
Pansy was slightly confused at the sudden change of events and frowned to hide her delight. Thank fuck.
"Yeah, sorry, Pans," Rabastan said as he turned once more to face Pansy. You do not get to call me Pans!
"Tell you what, I'll write you at Hogwarts. We'll arrange something." It wasn't a question.
Rabastan moved towards Pansy again and once more his mouth was so uncomfortably close to her ear that she could feel his hot breath against the side of her head. Finding herself completely enclosed by the arms that were now, for some awful reason, enclosing her, she felt a sudden rush of panic.You need to get away from me now, Pansy thought, willing her breaths to remain even despite their threats to become ragged. What the fuck are my parents getting me involved in?
"Wait for my owl, yeah, Pans?" It was barely more than a scratchy whisper. All Pansy had left within her, all she could muster before her ability to breathe easily deserted her, before her tears began to fall, betraying her, was one solitary nod. Rabastan chastely kissed her cheek before standing up and strolling towards the door. The Death Eater didn't look back, and neither did Cassius as he followed Rabastan into the hallway, muttering something about the dining room floo.
"It gets easier. The burning's less and less each time." Pansy heard Rabastan say, his voice quickly becoming fainter as the two men departed further up the corridor.
"Does it hurt?" Pansy asked, caressing the pale skin.
"No," Draco had replied, simply. "I mean, it does when you get it, and it burns like a bitch when he's…" he trailed off.
Nodding her head, choosing not to press the matter, Pansy sat up in the four poster and pulled one of Draco's grey t-shirts over her head. Draco followed suit, swinging his legs over the side of his bed whilst simultaneously Accio-ing himself clean clothes.
"I'd better go. You okay to show yourself out?"
"Charming," Pansy snorted, "but yes, I believe I can find my way back." She watched as Draco finished dressing, taking extra care to make sure his left forearm was indeed covered. "You don't have to go, you know. We could stay here like we used to."
"Pans, you know I can't. I've told you." Draco looked at her, a strained expression on his pale face. Pansy knew she was exasperating him; it was already the tenth time she had attempted the same conversation, which always ended in a similar fashion.
"I just wish," she began, chewing the inside of her cheek, knowing she needed to choose her words carefully, "there was a different way," she finished, rather pitifully.
Draco was already on his feet, facing the dormitory door. He sighed, looking down at his once-girlfriend. "Just promise me something, Pans?" Pansy's green eyes met his grey.
"Promise you won't ever get mixed up in this bullshit." Pansy smiled sadly in response, nodding as she watched Draco leave.
Lilith cleared her throat, Pansy had, quite honestly, almost forgot her mother was present within the room. "Come on now, Pansy. Out of your father's study."
"Don't worry, mother," she emphasised the word slowly, glaring at Lilith. "I'm not hanging around," Pansy snapped in the second before she disapparated.