Title: Escapism

Summary: Draco just wants to go home and fly his Nimbus.

"Does she always have to give homework? I have Charms Club today…"

"Katie Bell's been sent to hospital! Yeah, I heard…"

"…so he went back and, like, begged for forgiveness…"

Draco lowered his head and moved towards the staircase with increasing annoyance. Did the peasantry always have to speak so deafeningly? And about such mundane subjects, too. He gritted his teeth in frustration when someone elbowed him. He turned to glower at the offender and spotted a bright red head of hair galloping away.

"Can't you see where you're going Weaselby? Family too poor to afford a pair of glasses?" he called scornfully. The redhead, as well as a few others, turned around to face him in alarm. Oh. It wasn't Weasley then.

"Maybe you need to have your eyes checked, Malfoy!" Sneered a lowly Hufflepuff. He felt his cheeks redden and whipped out his wand. Nobody insulted a Malfoy. He was about to Leg-Bind the snub-nosed offender, but somebody bumped him again and sent his aim off completely. He ended up leg-binding Mrs. Norris, whose yellow eyes sought him out immediately.

Screw this, he thought, and shoved his way through the crowd of students making their way to dinner. As he arrived at the dungeons, he found himself wondering why he hadn't shoved through the crowd in the first place. Get your act together, Malfoy. You're losing it, he chastised himself. Not after Dumbledore touches that necklace, a voice much like his father's said. He grinned.

The fires had been lit and the lamps turned down by the time the Slytherins trickled in from dinner. Draco had not moved from his seat beside the fireplace, contemplating, waiting, telling himself that it could take up to two days before Dumbledore actually touched the thing. And then it would be over – he would be the pride and joy of his family. How Zabini and Nott would gaze at him with open envy, how his father would boast of his son's glory, how the Dark Lord would reward him. He would be the youngest, most accomplished Death Eater of them all…

"Did you see the Gryffindors tonight? Ha! That was a laugh!" a girl, possibly Tracey Davis, crowed as she seated herself near Draco.

"Yeah, never seen them look so pathetic!" shrilled Pansy. Draco lowered himself slightly in his chair. If she was sitting on the couch behind him, she wouldn't see him.

"But why?" asked Daphne.

"Oh, well that's the best part!" Pansy cried. Draco could imagine the look of triumph on her face as her friends stared at her impatiently.

"Oh my word, you know! Tell us!" someone squeaked.

"Well… apparently that girl Katie Bell, the one with the pasty skin – ''

"The one on the Quidditch team?"

"Yes. Apparently she found a wrapped parcel in Three Broomsticks, and insisted on going back to the castle immediately. So her friend, this girl Leanne – I don't know who she is either – got into a fight with her about it, and said that couldn't just leave with a weird package, because it could be someone else's – she totally wanted it for herself, and while they were walking back, they started fighting over it, literally. And like, two seconds later, the thing tore and Katie touched what was inside…" Draco couldn't deny that Pansy knew how to keep her audience interested.

"What was it, Pansy?"

"Well… it turned out to be… a necklace…" Draco almost slipped from his chair. Oh. Merlin. He had killed Katie Bell. He had killed the wrong person entirely. Shit. Shit.

"And then she started levitating and shaking like mad!"

"What happened then?"

"Well naturally Potter happened to be there and saved the day. So she's off to St Mungo's… but things aren't looking good…" Pansy finished and smiled broadly. There was a moment's silence in which Draco wondered if there was actually a god, somewhere, who appreciated his efforts.

"Hahaha, well, serves the nosy Gryffindors right," Tracey finally said. Some of the other girls chuckled.

"Yeah…" Daphne said. Distractedly, Draco wondered if she was also secretly glad Katie Bell had survived.

Draco sat, seemingly invisible to the rest of the world, until it was just Pansy and Tracey sitting on the couch behind him. He didn't know what to think. For the first time in his life he found himself entirely unable to order his emotions. Disappointed, grateful, terrified, confused and exhausted all at once, he just wanted to go home. He just wanted to fly his Nimbus and show off for his parents and laugh at the stupid, happy Muggles.

Eventually, Pansy discovered him and berated him for not greeting her earlier. Her breath was hot in his ear: "Draco… let's go to the library." Her seductive whisper was nothing more than hot air to him. He turned his head away from her.

"Not now." He felt her pout against his neck.

"Why not? What's wrong, Draco?"

"I've a Potions essay to do."

"But we can research it in the library," she giggled triumphantly, "that… and other things…" He frowned impatiently. He wasn't in the mood for Pansy and her high-pitched giggles right now. He had bigger, more important things to do.

"No."

She sighed.

"Oh well, I'll just go have a bath then…" she ran a hand over his chest and rested it on his bicep. "Alone…" she leaned in until her lips were on his ear "in absolutely no clothes, and I'll be so… darn… we – ''

"Pansy, I'm not in the fucking mood!" His sudden, uncontrolled outburst made her cower for a second, and then she giggled at the ambiguity of his sentence. Draco glared at her, taking in her glossy lips and strategically unbuttoned shirt. She was so unaware of what was really going on… her and her gossip-driven life, her perfect, mindless bubble of snide giggles and lacy bras. His every waking moment was spent with protecting his family – did she have any idea what that was like? Knowing that a second's hesitation would result in the death of his parents… all in the name of the devil himself.

"Leave me alone, Pansy," he ordered coldly, hoping vainly that fear would send her away.

"But Draco, I never see you anymore… no one does! Where've you been? What's wrong, baby? You can tell me." Her voice was pleading and he couldn't help but sneer at her desperate expression. She knew nothing. He could tell her his mission, but what good would that do? She could never comprehend the turmoil he was enduring.

"Just leave it."

"Draco… what's wrong? Is it that four-eyed freak, Potter? Because Blaise told me that – ''

"Potter? Why would it be him?" Draco was bewildered by the convoluted workings of her mind. "Damn it Pansy, just drop it!"

She looked away to conceal her hurt. Draco almost felt remorse – and somewhere in the back of his mind he was disgusted with this show of weakness – and sighed. He stood and looked back at her.

"Come on. Are we going to the library or not?" he relented. She lifted her head and smiled widely at him. He could not bring himself to smile in return (not that he ever did) but instead offered her his arm and, just for an hour or two, indulged in her world of mindless escapism.

Author's Note: This chapter highlights the cracks in Draco and Pansy's relationship, but mainly how Draco is struggling to maintain control over his emotions. He's one confused little dude…

Many thanks to lupinlover888 and ari11990 for the encouragement : )