Title: The Well 12/?
Author: eidheann
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~600 (~8,500 total)
Summary: Where there is a wish...
Warnings: angst.
A/N: Many thanks for the comments and support.
The tension in Draco's flat increased as the day progressed, beginning simply at uncomfortable and reaching unbearable somewhere near tea. He was exhausted. His head was pounding, his eyes aching, and his chest tight. His sleep the night before had been brief and restless, and he wanted nothing more than to return to his room, lock the door, and pretend the rest of the world didn't exist. Pansy seemed worse off, and he repeatedly cursed himself, their years of friendship, and that bloody Well for the sense of responsibility he felt toward her.
Responsibility or not, tea saw him at the end of his rope. Pansy had been stirring her cup constantly for the past five minutes, and the sound of the spoon against the porcelain finally broke the silence that had held since breakfast.
"If you don't put that spoon down and drink the blasted tea, you're going to be wearing it."
Pansy straightened and glared at him, but more importantly, she rested the spoon on the saucer. "Fine friend you are. What happened to you being my friend and helping me with this?"
"I'd like to know what you call helping if letting you stay in my flat, steal my room, and fixing the mess you made of yourself doesn't apply." His gaze was cold, but he welcomed the opportunity to break the silence, to start an argument that would distract him from his own thoughts.
Sadly, Pansy must have caught something in his expression, for her face twisted in a sneer and she turned the conversation to him, her words slicing like ice. "Yes, because you know all about making messes of yourself. Falling in with the Savior of the Wizarding World, answering his beck and call like a well-trained crup even now. I set up this meeting with Theo tonight as much for your sake as you say it's for mine. You promised to be here for me, and I'm holding you to that. I think that makes us even."
He leaned forward, ignoring his worry about the truth of her words to strike back in same. "I am not a well-trained crup. I had every intention of being here for you this evening regardless, and I had no plans on meeting him tonight anyway. So don't play at being altruistic. You've said yourself that it's beyond you."
"No plans on meeting him tonight? I know you, Draco. How long have you spent staring at that letter? You still have it now, I've watched you reach into your pocket over and over again today." She stood and loomed over him. "It's been the same since Hogwarts. Everything you do is for him or to get his attention. You would do anything for either. So don't try and convince either of us that you weren't going to show up on his doorstep in time for dinner like a good little lovesick fool."
He felt his back and shoulders straighten, his expression controlled, the Malfoy mask perfect in a way he hadn't managed in weeks. The hollow feeling in his gut told him he would pay for this conversation later, but he clung to his control and the tight iciness of his voice. "If you are quite finished with your histrionics, I think it best if you return to your room until dinner as you are obviously distraught. Please feel free to summon Lippy if you should need anything. Good afternoon."
After a brief flash of regret, Pansy schooled her own features. "Of course, good afternoon." He followed her from the room, retreating to the study and closing the door behind him with a quiet click. He sat staring blankly at his desk until Lippy arrived, her expression anxious, to remind him it was time to change for dinner.