Where's my girl? Where has she gone?
She once was beautiful and Innocent
I can't believe in what she says
I looked at her and she looked the other way
Disconnected, From feeling alright.
Disconnected, And it ain't black and white.
- Disconnected, Rancid
"What are you doing here, Draco?"
Those are the first 'welcoming' words that come out of Pansy Parkinson's mouth as I walk up her cobblestone drive. She's hanging out of her wooden front door, a flabbergasted expression upon her face, looking unusually ravishing. Of all the places I could've gone, I don't know why I chose here.
Okay, so I do know why. I came here so Pansy can lavish her affection upon me like she always does, to remind me why wanting to be with purebloods is so much better than being in filthy Mudblood company.
I want, no need, to stop thinking about Granger in a way that is unnatural. For fucks sake, I don't know how I am supposed to last 2 weeks being in her presence when her cousin keeps dressing her in slutty clothing and she keeps managing to be a decent person towards me. Pursuing her would cause madness and panic from all the friends and family that know her and think they know who I am.
Not to mention my mother would disown me. Next time I see her, I'm going to be nothing but rude and that's that. No more kissing business allowed, no matter how much I...liked it.
I mean, I do genuinely think that perhaps I could try to be a better person than I have been in the past, but for the greater good, not just one selected girl. It'll look good on me, my family, and er, potential employers I suppose. I'm not just thinking about building new realities just for her…
I'm not.
I shake the thought from my head and continue walking. As I near Pansy's figure in the doorway I see her long black hair curling around down to her breasts; she's wearing a silky purple housecoat that fits her small frame perfectly.
I've heard people compare her looks to a pug (behind her back), but I've personally never seen it. I've always thought she was rather good looking if I'm honest. Perhaps if she was fat she'd look like one, since she has large, dark eyes and her nose is upturned slightly. But I doubt dogs often have mouths that are squished into a permanent haughty frown.
Okay, enough pondering, say something. She's your only ticket to shelter unless you want to go back there.
"I came to see you, Pansy," I smirk stupidly as I stop in front of her steps. I feel awkward about what to say, rubbing the back of my head with my hand nervously. She clearly isn't happy to see me.
She's towering over me, gazing scrutinizingly at my appearance which is unusually, uncharacteristically, Muggle.
"It's been nearly a year since we've seen each other, since we've spoken Draco, and out of the blue you just decide to show up at my front gate?" she asks perplexed with a hint of irritation.
"Did you forget that I wrote to you several times with no avail? No small reply at all, not one owl," I retort bitterly.
"I must not have gotten them," she refutes, looking anywhere but my eyes, playing with her hair. Yeah, right.
I thought that maybe Pansy would be happy to see me…
I suppose that after a year of no contact and effort made by the other party, I should've gotten the hint she wants nothing to do with me. Though, I'll admit that I'm arrogant enough to have brushed that thought aside before I came here.
Fuck what I assumed, I just need somewhere to go. I thought she'd still have a soft spot for me, that she would feel a rush of affection at my sudden appearance and try and come at me all romantic-like. But she doesn't care anymore, clearly.
Hmph. "Oh really? You 'must not have gotten them'? The owl mail service just suddenly forgot to visit the Parkinson household?" She flinches at my tone. I'm a lot angrier than I originally realized. She was my girlfriend after all, we never broke up we just sort of 'fell apart'.
"Pansy, I thought you'd left England! I thought everybody had, from what I've been hearing in the news. I haven't received any word from either you, Goyle or Blaise since the battle. I understand that we never were friends, exactly, but certainly allies."
"Allies? From our escapades, I thought we were more than that, Draco," she says smirking and narrowing her eyes. I return her coy smirk; I can't help it. That's exactly the sort of thing I would've responded with. Something that catches you off-guard.
"Okay, well maybe we were more than that, but I thought I was the only one left from the 'original' Slytherin house at school. There's just Millicent and Nott, who is incredibly irksome and –"
"School? You went back to Hogwarts! ?" Her eyes are bulging unattractively out of her sockets. Why is she so surprised?
"Well, yes." I reply to her dim outcry. "Didn't you receive a letter?"
"Of course I did, but mum and father said…well…I – I just didn't think it would be necessary. I knew we'd be mocked and taunted horrendously, not that I care or anything….but I certainly didn't think you'd go back, given your reputation. Wouldn't it cut in your quality time of alcohol consumption and sleeping?" she asks bitingly.
Merlin, everyone who is rich is the same. Dictated by our wealthy parents. Her mother told her she wasn't to go, and she didn't.
And taking a stab at my drinking? You tell one girl something in confidence and she uses it against you…
Ugh, how did I ever put up with her?
"I didn't really fancy sitting at home anymore. And it's not like father can tell me what to do…. Not like anything bad is out there anymore. Seriously, everyone else is deliriously happy now that the world's gone 'right'. It's irritating."
"Well, that's exactly it. Blaise didn't go back because of that very reason; everyone would be rude to us while they drink Butterbeer's all day long. He's also under the assumption he's too good for Hogwarts anymore…but neither of us had Death Eater parents, so it makes less sense that you two idiots went. It's just safer at home. No worries. No responsibilities. Aren't they positively eating you alive all by yourself? I mean Nott was never particularly vicious to people when you were the worst."
"Obviously they are," I state frustrated. "But I figured everyone was going back; I thought that the Slytherin families wouldn't want to look like we'd given up, that we'd been 'beaten' so to speak. Not all the Slytherins were bad in the first place anyways, as you said. And in any case, the prejudice was supposed to be over…."
"Prejudice never ends, Draco. Don't you understand?" She cuts me off, huffing with an edge in her voice and eyes that stop me in my tracks. "They've always have hated us, so we'll always hate them. It goes much deeper than blood; they judge us before they know us. Our parents told us to judge too, but we do simply because everyone treats us like we're scum. Perhaps if they didn't, we wouldn't either. Slytherin always gets the bad rap, even if the other impure riff raff mess up too. I mean, my parent's managed to stay out of the whole Death Eater thing, just leaning a bit towards the greater of the two evils. And people still hated me." Yeah, but you're an outspoken bitch, Pansy.
I want her to stop talking these ugly truths, but she looks as frustrated as me, so I let her continue. "We're told as kids to stay with the kids dressed in green and silver, and you know, we don't really dare defy our parents' wishes, well, because that's all we know. And everyone else is told to integrate, to talk to everyone but steer clear of the kids in green because their families are bad people. It's a vicious circle, surely you've realized that by now? You know very well how difficult it is to trust people given our stereotypes. We have to stay guarded due to the fear of letting anyone truly inside our minds. Even after all this war rubbish, I'm still too scared to talk to people who aren't pureblood or rich…And you know? I don't even really care anymore if they're Mudbloods or elves. I just want to be happy."
She looks down and fiddles with the sapphire bracelet on her wrist, contemplating what she just told me, and more than likely if it was too much. I'm a little in awe at her words. Not just about how very true they are, but because they don't sound much like something the Pansy Parkinson I knew would say.
"Draco," she stops and I gaze at her expectantly through narrowed eyes . "What do you really want? I'm quite busy you see, today is important."
"And what's so special about today?"
She blushes slightly, but stands her ground. "Nothing that would interest you," she sniffs. "What do you want? I know you didn't come to see me, you usually have the decency to discuss a meeting time in advance…actually, it was me that used to always ask you to come over, not the other way round. Tonight I have a prior engagement unfortunately, so if you've come for a playdate, I must insist that we do it another time," she says arrogantly. Fuck. Me.
Dread rips through my veins at the prospects I have left. If I can't stay here, I have 4 options.
1) Go find Nott and crash at his place; I don't know where he lives. Unlikely.
2) Go visit Goyle and Blaise like I've just done to Pansy and have an awkward reunion ending in me begging for a place to sleep, wherein they'll both laugh at the misfortune of my current state. Even more unlikely.
3) Sleep outside.
Errr…No.
4) Go back to Granger's and explain what happened. And face her the same day I kissed her. Fuck.
My head is going to explode.
I take a deep breath.
"I'm locked out of my house." It sounds so childish when I say it aloud.
"What? Locked out?" she says confused. 'Wh -How?"
I sigh again, not wanting to go into details. But how can I avoid them, really? She's admittedly probably the person I've been the closest to in my entire life, so I suppose I have no choice.
God, that's pathetic.
I try to figure out what to tell her and what to keep locked away at rapid speed. Oh fuck it, here it goes.
"It's a long story. A real shitshow if you want the truth. My dear mother has decided that she no longer is interested in my father," I begin. "So she's been sneaking around behind everyone's back and humping a Frenchman." Pansy's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.
"She's getting married to him," I say it with such venom that I surprise myself. "She went to stupid Cannes to meet his parents this morning. She didn't even bother to tell me about this affair until 5 days ago, when I walked in on them fornicating, and when I threatened to tell father, she informed me that apparently he already knows. Needless to say, I'm not exactly ecstatic about the whole arrangement. It's disgusting. Father rots in Azkaban, while my Mother gets it on with somebody else…." I shake my head. "Anyways, that's far more than you need to know. The point is I'm alone. Today, I was….well I was out, so when I returned I couldn't get in for some reason, and my house elf wouldn't be summoned. I'm going to take a stab and guess mother, its 'real 'master, ordered it to assist her or perhaps guard the manor. So if there's any way I could stay here tonight….that would be greatly appreciated," I finish exhaling.
I look at her and immediately I know i've said too much. Far too much.
Her expression says it all already: 'I have juicy gossip on the Malfoys.'
It was such a mistake coming here.
She stands there shocked, a near half smile lingering on her lips. The door is fully open now and her hand is still absent-mindedly hanging as if she was still holding it. She blinks a few times then straightens up.
"Let me get this straight. Narcissa Malfoy has been cheating on Lucius Malfoy, the richest Wizard in Britain? While he's in Azkaban? And she never told you anything about her fiancé? Oh Merlin, that is interesting." At my scowl, she adds, "And terrible for you of course. I'm so sorry. I was going to say that..." She retracts her mouth into a frown 'sympathetically', turns her head suddenly inside like she heard a noise, and then back to me.
"I - honestly don't know if I can let you inside, Draco," she says simply. "Even if I wanted to."
"And why is that, exactly?" I ask confused. She used to beg me to come see her and now she won't give me the time of day?
Pansy checks back into her house again and then beckons me with her hand to come closer, paranoia evidently getting the best of her. I oblige somewhat reluctantly and walk up on her front step, pushing Granger's iPod further into my pocket as I go, praying to Merlin she never sees it. When I get right next to her she leans in to whisper to me, cupping a hand delicately to my left ear.
"Ever since the end of this school year last, my parents have been rattling on about how they need to get in the 'good books' of the public eye if they ever want to be in the social elite again. In order to do so, they want me to cut out every bad influence, and….that includes, you," she says bluntly. "Your father is extremely scandalous, especially after what you've just told me. And we all know how pathetic his Death Eater performance was in the last year, as was yours, er, no offense," she adds as if that will make me not feel as if I was punched in the balls. She retracts from me and stands up, her point made clear.
"And then your family was in the news about 'switching sides'; everyone who was ever involved with dark business got quite cross because you were lying about it, again. Right?"
I crumple my features, unsure of what to say.
Half of the thrill of knowing me during the time of the war (for Pansy) was being able to latch onto security, riches, and notoriety (in a good way) if the Dark Lord ever came to power. I also am pretty damn good-looking if I do say so myself. But that's not what I'm trying to get at.
Obviously now that dream of being on top is ruined; not just because Voldemort's dead, but because of how much of a wimp I am. The riches don't matter in the public view if my family is 'bad'.
But the Malfoy's don't work with the idea of 'sides' and never have. We latch onto the most profitable security. When Voldemort was in power that's where we decided to go because if he succeeded in his quest, we'd live a longer life. Not to mention, we'd be more praised because of our blood status. If a few people had to be spared, so be it. When he was 'defeated' the first time we had to pretend to be innocent or else my father would've been locked up in Azkaban and have been forced to leave my mother with myself as an infant. Now that I think about it, maybe that would've been a better outcome.
So switching sides? I don't really know if we ever were on one, the way my father acted in this past war, and in thew few months before I saw him barred up. He just wanted power and was truly a coward within.
But me? I don't know. I am a coward, but was I simply scared? Or deep down did I want to secretly change the odds for Potter so he could overcome? I only talked the talk because I thought my family was big stuff; important. But it was pounded into me after my father`s continuous fails that we were disposable like everyone else. The Ministry turned their back and Voldemort tortured us. It was all a big game of using people for what they could; that's what life is, isn't it? When you boil it down.
I don't really feel like lying to Pansy anymore. Maybe I should tell her how I feel…. I won't ever impress or please her again it seems anyhow.
Which is sad because she used to plead with me to let her put my cock between her lips... Too much info, I know.
I miss those carefree days.
I shake my head, returning to reality. "No. Switching sides isn't how you would phrase the Malfoy situation. My mother never wanted to be a Death Eater, and father…well let's just say he lost interest long before they found out what Potter had been up to last year."
She raises an eyebrow. "And you? You think you've changed? Don't make me laugh, Draco. I figured you disliked the violent aspect of being a Death Eater after sixth year, and didn't want to kill anyone, but you can't possibly stand there and tell me you don't feel the same way about everything else, like Mudbloods and image. It was all that seemed to matter to you."
Ha, if only she knew what happened today….
I silently smirk, almost wanting to tell her. That would certainly send her off her rocket.
"Oh uh, by the way, I kissed Hermione Granger while lying on her bed."
"Anyways," she continues without paying my expression any attention, "my parents told me to cut off all relationships with you, and, of course I didn't want to." Lying bitch. "But seeing as I wasn't going to school and you had all that trial stuff going on, it wasn't difficult not bothering you."
She regains her normal standing position, with perfect carriage and grace, brushing invisible dust specs off her bathrobe. I don't really know how to respond to that.
"I see," is what I reply coldly after a minute. I can't believe I used to relate to anything of what she's saying to me. It's as if I'm conversing with a different species. It feels like my eyes have been thrust open to how I was for the very first time in my life. She seems more mature, yes, but now she reminds me so much of myself that I want to vomit.
Pansy observes me when I don't respond and gives me the onceover, properly. Her contemptuous glare softens a little bit as she reaches my eyes. I return her gaze with a harder look and open my mouth about to tell her that it was a mistake coming here, but I'm interrupted by a snooty, older voice.
"Pansy darling, who is at the door? Step aside now, pip pip, - ohhhhhh, it's you," Paisley Parkinson peers through the doorway, staring up at me through her horn-rimmed glasses, looking as if she's smelled some shit.
"Always lovely to see you, Mrs. Parkinson," I say forcefully. She's garbed in a sleeveless tight grey robe that tapers at her unattractively thin waist.
"And what would you like, Mister Malfoy?" she asks, emphasizing 'you' so I know I'm not welcome. She's now blocking Pansy from my view. A little more than a year ago this woman dragged me alone into her study and begged me to propose to her daughter at some point in my near future, to 'merge two great families together'. Ha.
"Nothing at all, just stopping by to chat with your daughter. Haven't seen her in a good while," I reply frostily. "But I think I'll be going now." Swivelling around to leave, I'm defiant even though I have no idea where I'm headed next when my old flame surprises me.
"Draco, wait!" I stop at the sincerity in her voice. "Mum, please. Draco was just telling me about his parent's divorce."WHAT! I whip back around, balling my fists with a snarl, shooting her daggers. She ignores me." He's been locked out of his home because of it, and is quite flustered about it. He was only seeking some, um, guidance on the situation. The least we can do is help, yes?"
Inside I'm seething, how dare she tell someone about something so personal without permission? But at the look of vain curiosity from Mrs. Parkinson, I know she's going to invite me into the house just to squeeze all the juice she can muster out of me. She's the most gossipy woman I've ever spoken to; it's a trait Pansy inherited.
"Of course, of course," she says thinking. "Some…er, guidance. Very well, you may come in…Draco." She shoots me a curious glare, then click-clacks her heels back inside. Pansy and I regretfully follow suit.
Wait. Hold the fort….why is Pansy wearing heels?
I don't have time to think about it however because as we make our way through the darkened hallway into the parlour, I'm bombarded with questions.
"So what happened to cause your parent's to end the marriage, Draco? Did someone cheat? Is somebody getting remarried? Your father didn't die in Azkaban did he? No of course not, it would've been in the papers…If he had, she moved on quickly…..Why were you out and about by yourself? And why can't you get back in? Stupid house elves probably."
God, she's a cow.
I answer most of the questions as politely as possible, and every time I give something away, her eyes widen like saucers. I recite to her exactly what I told Pansy, leaving out the part about where I've been today. As we near the fireplace, Paisley beckons me to sit down on a sofa next to her daughter, evidently forgetting who I am and our past relationship. Nosiness will do that to people, apparently.
She recounts what I just told her in a scandalised voice. "So Narcissa Malfoy cheated? How outrageous! And now she's arranging a wedding while her husband is in jail? Immoral! Who again did you say she was marrying? Did you meet him?"
Pansy shoots me a slightly apologetic look, embarrassed by the uncouthness of her parent. I just roll my eyes and continue being interrogated. "She's marrying some dent named Jean-Pierre…Du Pont I believe? Extremely French, man doesn't even speak English. I met him only briefly." Ugh, the first time I met my future step-father, he was nude and thrusting into my mother. I shake the nasty image out of my head, and look up at my host.
Silence has finally been cast upon my inquisitor. I turn to face her, wondering why the questions have stopped. She's immobile, a shocked look on her pale face, her wine glass ceremoniously clutched in the air as if waiting to be cheers'd.
"Mum…?" Pansy asks, leaning in to shake her arm. But Paisley just sits there, with that same dumbfounded expression.
"Jean-Pierre Du Pont, of the Cannes Du Pont's?" she casually addresses at last. I raise one eyebrow confused. How could she possibly know him?
"Um, I believe so. She did say she was going to Cannes, my mother. May I ask why?"
A small jubilant smile slowly forms on her lips. "Oh, no reason at all, just wondering. I've read about the Du Pont's in French wizard magazines before. Sounds like he's an upstanding man." Pansy and I exchange looks of confusion, but she just shrugs, having no idea what her mother is rattling on about. Her response to my question was believable enough, but rushed; a cover up.
"Pansy dear, would you join me in the other room for a moment? We need to discuss arrangements for our guest." Masked excitement is laced into her voice. I arrived here as scum and now I'm an equal again? Something is definitely fishy here. She's up to something.
Pansy scrunches her eyebrows in puzzlement, but never the one to disobey her mum, she gets up and saunters out of the room behind Paisley.
I suppose I'm just sitting here awkwardly then. Lovely. The snooping section of my brain is itching to try and hear what they're saying, but I'm not really sure if I want to know.
Who the hell am I kidding, of course I want to know.
I tune my ear into the silence and I catch a word here and there from the two ladies in the hallway.
"….get on the good side…."
"…but you said last week that…"
"…never mind that, you should…."
"But what about tonight?"
"Sigh….well,….."
They seem to have walked further away from the door.
I slump back into my seat and rest my elbow on the arm of the couch, propping my chin in my hand. I drum my hands on my cheek as they reconvene in here, Pansy looking confused and walking over next to me, Paisley looking suspiciously happy.
"Well, Draco, I know you really require a bed, so you may stay here tonight," Paisley says to me, smiling like a kid at Christmas. "And for as long as you need."
"Er, that's very kind of you." I reply, now thoroughly creeped out. She's acting as if she hadn't just met me with malice at her front door. Two faced bitch.
"I know," she grins. Immediately, it deflates slightly; "Unfortunately, Pansy, my husband & I have a prior engagement tonight, which we must attend to in little less than a half hours' time. I would invite you to come along, but if you are dressed in, erm, that, it would be inappropriate. Also it may be rude to invite you without any notice. What exactly would you be interested in doing to pass the time?"
She's such a charming woman, isn't she?
"Honestly, I'm rather tired." I admit truthfully. "I could just go to sleep. I need an owl first however, if I am allowed to borrow one; I need to contact my mother in France so I can get back into the manor."
I just want to sleep. And maybe a nice brandy.
"We have a spare owl you may use. And sleeping you won't bother anyone or anything. Don't need you gallivanting around the house, you may uh, break something ha ha…" she laughs dryly, trailing off. Yes, because I'm so poor that I'm going to resort to stealing teapots and paintings from you and rampaging about the estate.
"I can show you to the guest room, I believe that we have spare set of nightclothes up there, and we keep the birds up there. Pansy, you should –"
"Mother, Draco will stay in my room. Much more comfortable than the guest room. I'll show him up and make sure he delivers his letter." Huh?
"Pansy, I do not think this is a –" Paisley starts, glaring at her only child.
"Well I do. Remember what you said in the other room, Mum." She huffs cutting in, grabbing onto my arm. She gives me a meaningful look, then one of her trademark wicked smiles.
Paisley looks infuriated but trying to mask it. She balls her fists and struggles for a moment but tapes back on her grin. "Of course, darling. Well hurry up then. We need to leave soon."
And with that she stomps off towards the staircase. I raise an eyebrow and look up at Pansy, who beckons me to stand up.
I do so, and she hooks a finger under my chin. "Follow me, Draco." She winks at me then slides her hand slowly from under my face, swishing around dramatically.
Merlin, what have I gotten myself into?
I decide to obey her and follow her sashaying self out of the room and to the same staircase her mother just graced. My eyes automatically focus on her hips swaying up the steps. I examine those heels. She's wearing tall purple stilettos that make her legs look miles long. And her ass nice and firm. She really does have an amazing figure, it's no wonder I couldn't help –
Fuck, no.
I can't be thinking about her that way after what happened only 2 hours ago. With Granger.
Holy fuckbuckets, Granger. I almost forgot about her amidst this confusion. The whole idea that I find her attractive, intelligent, moreover tolerable, is insane.
Absolutely mental. How can I like her, and then all of a sudden be turned on by Pansy?
Well this is a good thing, isn't it?, my brain interrupts. This is proof that the attraction you felt with Hermione may have just been simply carnal. Hormonal. You just want to fuck. Pansy is at the complete opposite of the spectrum than your Mudblood friend.
My mind is convinced, but my stomach feels uneasy. That doesn`t explain her comments amusing me, and….myself being nice in return. I mean, I picked her fucking Muggle band. I listened to her Muggle device and convinced myself to be different about certain aspects of my life 2 hours ago because of one fucking song.
"You're welcome, by the way, for me letting you stay in my bed tonight." Pansy interrupts my thoughts again. "The guest rooms are just awful, we obviously don't get company much. If you need anything just summon any elf, they'll make you food or direct you to anywhere you need to go. God, Mum is so paranoid. "Oh, you might break something!" she imitates in a perfect impression. "Anyways, I suppose I can just grab you an owl from their keep down the hall and - Draco? Anything wrong? You look lost in the clouds," she giggles. I realize I've been staring at her butt in a daze of confusion and thought this entire time. I switch up my gaze from her ass to her face and she's looking a bit coy. "Or perhaps transfixed," she smiles.
I feel myself blush pink, but plaster on the smirk. Can't let her win.
"Don't flatter yourself, Parkinson."
"Oh, don't deny you were staring. It's been a year; you missed me, Draco. I know I look good." We've reached an oak door with 'Pansy' and ornate flowers carved into the frame. She pushes it open with a swift tap of her wand and walks in.
"How do you know I didn't see anyone else?" I ask a bit peeved, entering her domain for the first time.
It's just like I thought; vomitatious pink. Her walls, ceiling, carpet, bedspread, and curtains are the putrid shade. Ugh.
I'm surprised she doesn't get a seizure or vertigo from waking up in this every morning.
"Oh, please. Who would've wanted you?" Ouch. "I mean, no offense, but you don't have a very redeeming reputation at the moment. And I know lots of Slytherins didn't come back to Hogwarts, or even home."
She never fails to be petulant. It's amusing usually, but she's insulting me this time.
"Well, you don't need to be so nasty about it. Didn't you miss me?" I ask, cocking a brow, and leaning to one side.
She sniffs. "Maybe."
"Maybe? As I recall, you were hanging off every orifice of myself not a year ago. Found someone else then, someone more holier than mine?"
"That doesn't make any sense," she says shaking her head, blushing furiously. Hmm, so she has, hasn't she?
"Perhaps it doesn't, but just because you didn't love me, doesn't mean you didn't love my cock." Her eyebrows shoot up at my vulgar usage, but she gives me a defiant look.
"I don't know what you mean. And how would you know if I didn't actually love you? Rude. I'm getting the owl, you write your letter now." She hastily plucks a box of quills and parchment from a drawer in her desk, shoves it into my arms and exits the room.
I take a seat in her chair, smiling at the fact I got her so riled up. Smoothing out the darkened parchment I scrawl a quick letter to mother, trying not to sound too pissed off. Trying being the key word here.
Mother,
It appears I've been denied access to enter the manor. I can't get through the gate enchantments. This is extremely frustrating, so if you could somehow get back here or fix it, it would be greatly appreciated. Don't worry about me, I'm at Pansy's at the moment, though the welcome of my presence I haven't figured out yet.
Draco
As an afterthought I add,
PS: I hope the preparations are going well.
I read it over once and shrug, hoping she feels guilty because I mention the wedding and I'm stuck here in limbo. She never liked the Parkinson's.
A hoot from behind me makes me jump and I turn to see Pansy with an average sized black owl. I hastily fold the letter and scribble 'Narcissa Malfoy' on the front so she can't read it. She pushes the bird into my hands. I set it onto the wood, and then grab a piece of twine that rests in the box with spare parchment, tying my note onto its complying leg.
Pansy opens the shutters so it can fly out. After it takes off I stare at it soaring upwards until it's a little dot in the distant sunset.
"Well, that was interesting," Pansy says sarcastically cutting into the silence from watching the bird. "I'm going to finish getting ready, if you don't mind."
I nod, turning around to go sit down carefully on the edge of her bed. Pansy turns around to her large vanity table, and sits on the hot pink stool. She starts rummaging through her jewellery, finding a suitable necklace and earrings.
"Where are you going, anyways?" I ask. She ignores me, and places dangly diamond earrings into her lobes.
"Oh come on, I'm not going to judge you. I've done this all before too. Is it some stupid dinner party with a bunch of 'important people' so your parents can make themselves still feel relevant?"
Nothing.
"You're wearing 3 inch heels and a ton of makeup, it must be something special. Will there be sexy entertainment?"
Pansy finishes clasping her matching diamond necklace onto her neck and tilts her head to give me a menacing glare.
"I'm going to change into my dress and cloak, turn around," she commands as she stands up, pulling her hair out and shaking it neatly from under her silver chain. This order surprises me.
"I've seen you in your knickers before, Pansy. I've seen you naked," I laugh.
"Yes, but then we were seeing each other, weren't we? Now it's different." She put her hands on her hips and sways her head to the side.
"Tell me where you're going and I will."
"Why do you care so damn much?" she hisses, throwing a stuffed dragon from her dresser at me.
I dodge the fuzzy entity as it lands on a pillow and smirk. "Because you don't want to tell me."
She sighs dramatically and then rolls her eyes. "I'm going to dinner with the Zabini's. Happy? Now turn around."
I feel my face go slack as I spin my legs to face the headboard. I try not to say anything as questions arise like a flood in my head. I recall Granger telling Potter on the train about seeing Blaise waiting at the platform to see if anybody from Slytherin was coming, and then promptly left. The Zabini's and Parkinson's were never friends. Mrs. Zabini is too 'prominent' to ever hang out with people like Pansy's parents because they weren't powerful, just rich; not famous for any reason.
I hear rustling of fabric.
"That's….odd" I choose to say. "Why?"
Another sigh. "Do you really want to know?"
She sounds so irritated and exhausted.
"Well, yes. I honestly have no idea what's going on with everyone these days." I reply, absentmindedly tossing her dragon up and down in my hands. "As you said, I haven't been very popular in the Slytherin world."
"Very well…you can look now." I swivel around and – wow.
She actually looks good. She's wearing an elaborate plum purple gown with a corset bodice and voluminous skirt made of gauzy material.
She looks apprehensive as I gaze at her. Then casually she asks;
"Would you mind tying up the back, I can't reach it."
I nod slowly as I place her bedtime toy on her sheets. She walks over to the bed and perches herself next to me. She parts her hair and places it over her shoulders so I can reach the lace. Her breath hitches slightly as I gingerly pull the lace to tighten and then tie it into a tight bow, gently grazing her pale skin.
She nods in thanks, then looks up at me, into my eyes, and clears her throat lightly. "Draco," she begins, pulling my hand into her lap, and closing her other palm over mine, "I've been seeing Blaise for the past few months."
Something in my body recoils, but I try to stay expressionless.
"My mother and father think it's been going well. So they told me a week ago that we are going to dinner with the Zabini's to ask for their blessing. They, um, wish for me to marry Blaise."
As she utters the last sentence, it's as if the worlds rotations have slowed. What the bloody hell - ?
What?
What! ?
"But you're only 18 years old!" I blurt out. "When did this happen? What on earth urged you to date Blaise?"
My stomach is tightening and I feel slightly sick. I pull my hand back onto my lap, wrenching it from her grip.
I feel almost scared. Scared. For her. Pansy Parkinson, who never really cared for me. Just who I was.
But wait, why do I have feelings about her? It's me, Draco; I'm supposed to put myself before anyone. Look out for number 1.
I feel like a 15 year old girl.
"Draco, my parent's wanted me to date you during school so that we could do the same thing; get married. When, ahem, our relationship went sour, there was a change of plan. Blaise is one of the few eligible boys left that isn't taken or too old; he's handsome and rich, and not previously a death eater. Or a son of one," she adds, though I brush it aside, not offended.
"I know your parents wanted me to date you, and what their intentions were. But why do you want to marry him? I mean, it's Blaise."
Her eyes widen. "You knew?"
"Of course! Your mother wasn't very subtle about it. She kept hinting at it and talking to me about it alone. But I mean….I actually liked you. I can hide my inner feelings well, but I wouldn't have had sex with you, or kissed you for that matter, if I didn't. I was never certain of your actions, whether they were genuine or not, so that's why it never grew into love. Like you said, we all stay guarded from fear of vulnerability. I mean, I hardly even expect to marry someone I do love, because look at our parents." I say, referring to the fact her father is always out at sleazy places meeting women, and the state of my family. "I just…you were one of the few people I didn't loathe. You may annoy me sometimes, but we're practically the same person, gender aside."
She looks at me with narrow eyes and a frown, confused evidently. "I never knew that you knew."
"Well now you do."
I take off my blazer, feeling a bit warm, and shove it onto the floor, not caring. I roll up my sleeves and rest my head on my hands which rest on my knees.
"I don't want to marry him, you know." She says to the air, looking straight ahead at the wall.
"Then why are you going to? He's disgusting."
"I don't think I will, honestly. But I feel like I have no choice but to try. I didn't finish school, technically. And I don't need a job anyways, but I definitely need a husband. Need to start a family…," she trails.
"You're 18. You need time to go do interesting things. And the Dark Lord is dead. Who gives a fuck about starting a pureblood family anymore? There's nobody who will be out to kill you if you don't. This is absolutely Medieval."
"Draco!"
"Sorry, but that's just how I feel. I guess I'm just upset. I mean, that's what my mother and father did, got married too early for pure gain. I know they did love each other but look at them. 30 plus years of marriage and now father's in Azkaban while my mother fucks some French guy."
I feel a hand coaxing on my wrist and I look at my ex-girlfriend. She's giving me a sympathetic look. Pansy Parkinson; sympathetic. The world is mental.
"You aren't jealous are you?" she asks almost hopefully.
"No," I reply automatically. She gives me a sour stare. "Well…maybe a bit. I just don't know what would compel you to even touch that git."
She smiles slightly and shakes her head. "He's not that bad."
"He called you a desperate kneazle for going out with me!"
"Well he told me he said that out of jealousy…" she blushes furiously. "I don't know, it was all very sudden. I saw him at a dinner party and we were the only two under the age of 60. So naturally because we knew each other and everyone else was discussing politics and boring things we talked together. It was actually rather enjoyable, though I was slightly pissed from the wine, and he asked me to lunch the next week."
"And you went?" She probably only went because she was flattered he found her attractive after he insulted her. And he was drunk. But that's too rude to say aloud.
"Yes. It'll be fine, Draco. I have a feeling tonight won't work out; Blaise doesn't want to marry me either, and his Mother is such a pushover to him. Very pretentious. My parent's just think too highly of themselves; I mean, not that I'm not fabulous or anything, but it's not like we're super prestigious in the public eye. Mrs. Zabini didn't look very impressed by us the last dinner we had…"
"Well that's because she has a shoe up her ass and shit in her nose."
"Draco," Pansy giggles. "She's just famous. I mean Blaise isn't that bad."
"You keep on saying that but I'm not convinced, unfortunately."
"When we went on our first date he didn't talk about himself the entire time for once." She shrugs.
"Really?" I suddenly have an image of Pansy holding Blaise's hand and walking down a country lane…no it doesn't seem natural.
"Yes. He was perfectly fine, but we haven't done anything past snog. He's not that romantic. Or particularly feisty for love." I shudder at the thought.
"PANSY, WE'RE LEAVING NOW!" comes the sudden screeching voice of Pansy's mom.
We both cringe.
"Oh, fuck, I wasn't finished getting ready. All well, guess I can't touch up my makeup." She pouts.
"You look beautiful, Pansy. And you're seeing Blaise, don't worry about it. He wouldn't be impressed even if you were a Veela dipped in gold." I say this so sincerely that she recoils slightly.
She looks confused again, but gives me a slightly wicked grin anyways. She stands up and grabs a pink pocketbook, pulling out a key as she unfastens it.
"This is a copy of the key to my parent's liquor cabinet. It's in the front hall; I know how much you enjoy whiskey," she titters. "So you can indulge if you want. We'll probably be gone for 6 hours, ugh. Don't overdo it though, kay? If you get me into trouble, I may have to hex you."
I raise an eyebrow but take the key thankfully. Thank god she understands my need for booze. Nothing like a nice drunken sleep. I certainly need it right now with all this confusion and hormones bubbling.
Pansy is being nice to me. I'm being nice to her. We have never been nice. I've been distant, she's been clingy on purpose.
But is that really her? I mean, I did quite like her witticisms and devilish charms before we were an item. Then she became all "Poor, Draco!" and it became somewhat annoying, even if I did like the attention.
God, and then there's Granger, who is so far off the left field from Pansy it's sickening.
"Thanks, Pansy. Have a pleasant evening," I say pocketing the key and ignoring my thoughts with a smirk.
She looks at me murderously.
"Oh, I will. Maybe I'll accidentally spill hot soup all over Blaise's Italian dinner jacket just for you." I laugh as she leaves, and fall back onto her bed, thinking about how weird this bloody day has been.
After a few minutes of hearing conversation and doors slamming, I twirl the key around in my hands. Time for booze, I think.
I can only see black.
"Sniff, sniff."
I sense movement close to me. Oh god, it's loud.
Ugh, headache. I have a massive headache.
Where the hell am I, anyways?
I blink open my eyes slowly while trying to sit up. I can't see a damn thing.
And then like I've just been doused in ice water, I remember. My vision is focusing slowly in this darkness. A sliver of moonlight casts through the solitary window and sheds light in the room when I piece everything together.
I'm in Pansy Parkinson's house; in her bed. And she's standing over there by her closet. She was making the noise.
She's in just her panties.
What the hell!
I look down at myself and, oh god. I'm only in my silky boxers clutching still a Firewhiskey bottle. I gaze to the left at her nightstand and there stands 2 empty wine bottles. My clothes are untidily on the floor.
So classy.
I look up to her small clock on the wall; 1:07 AM.
The night's events are slowly swirling around my mind in a haze, like loose penseive memories. Fuck, I drank by myself for 4 straight hours and then fell asleep on her bed.
Fuck, I vividly remember stumbling into her bathroom and wanking, I get so god damn horny when I'm plastered.
Fuck, what do I do now? Pretend I'm asleep? Oh but she probably will 'wake me up' and ask me to put on something decent so she can rest in peace. She's probably livid right now that I drank too much.
And then as I think she's about to yell at me or smack me awake, I hear a loud sob. I shuffle in the dark startled. She's crying.
Crying!
Well this is just fine and dandy.
What do I say to a crying girl?
Nothing, you're asleep.
But I'm not. I want to know the outcome of her and Blaise's pending marriage.
I watch carefully as she saunters over here to the bed and slumps on it gracefully, wearing just a pink slip. As she leans on the bed, I move a bit to act like I've just 'woken up'.
"Draco," she whispers sadly. "Did I wake you?"
I lean upwards a bit and place the whiskey bottle down beside the bed.
"N-nooo, I was a little awake when you came in. Why are you so sad, Pans?" Fuck, my mouth is drunker than my mind apparently. I just called her Pans. That's only what I called her when we had sex.
"Pans?"
"Sorry, drank a bit too-oooo much." I say while yawning, covering my face with my hand to hide its pink shade.
"Clearly," she lets out a sad chuckle. "Half a bottle of whiskey and 2 wine bottles? And now you're half naked on my bed."
"I was going to get dressed. I just didn't feel like sleeping in a dress shirt. I hadn't planned on being in such a drunken state when you returned."
"No, no…it's ok."
Huh?
I look over at her and the mascara and eye shadow she had perfected earlier has smeared down her face. She has an almost glazed look in her eyes and I realize she's wasted too.
"What do you mean 'it's ok?'"
She says nothing, and leans back against the headboard. With my blurry vision, I attempt to push myself up next to her.
"Pansy…why are you crying? What's wr-"
"DRACO!" she wails suddenly, making me jump out of my skin. "Why did you have to come baaaack?"
Come back?
"Come back? Where did I go? I haven't gone anywhere."
"I know, b-but, you were so depressed and worrisome all of 6th year, and then you never spoke to me during the 7th when you were off doing Merlin knows what with Death Eaters. I just thought…I thought you didn't want me anymore, didn't like me. And then you sh-show up now, a fucking year later, and – and, act all nice, and flattering, and it's sostrange, because I didn't think you could ever be, well, I don't know how to phrase it. You`ve never been sincerely loving towards me. We just did things together because we both wanted to try them for the first time. It was all a big game to my mother and father to snatch you up early on. And I went along with it because I found you attractive and everybody wanted to be near you in Slytherin. I felt special to be chosen by you. We hung out a lot in third year, you took me to the Yule Ball, etc. Then in fifth year we went out, made out, had sex for the first time. I thought you cared."
"I did care, Pansy," I reply weary. Why does she want to do this now? It isn't my fault I couldn't stay with her.
"Then you were all distant. I know it had to do with your father going into Azkaban, and then the whole mission with the Dark Lord, and everything else that goes along with it…I just, missed you. But my pride was too great to admit it. And after the war, seeing you leave with your mother...I gave up ever thinking about you that way again because I didn't know if I'd see you properly again, or if I should. Then out of the blue I get this letter from you, after everything was over and done with, and it's asking me if I'm okay, and would I like to see you. Here I am just shocked. Of course I wanted to see you. But I also didn't, do you know what I mean?"
I sit in this drunken haze, not knowing what she means at all, but finally understanding how she sees me for the first time ever.
"I don't think I do."
She sighs and continues blabbering. "Look Draco, being with you was easy when you were popular in the group. But when you aren't popular anywhere it's a struggle to convince everyone, you know, that you're a good person. And then you show up all sad and broken and kind of pathetic but I hadn't seen you in so long, you know?" she hits my arm a few times to get the message across . "Then my mother is all, 'Pansy! Jean Pierre Du Pont! He's rich, so very rich! Get Draco back!' like I'm some magic love potion maker and –"
"Wait, what?" I put my hand over her mouth so she shuts up and she bats it away like I've interrupted this hugely inspirational pep talk.
"Yes, mother said Mr. Du Pont is the richest wizard in France."
"Figures," I say shaking my head. Mother is so shallow, yeesh. This man is exactly like father, why doesn't she see it? Rich, good looking and basically an asshole.
"Oh, come now, Draco. Now she doesn't want me to marry Blaise at least, right? Ha ha!" She giggles very high pitch and I flinch. "I mean, I do miss your cock, like you said earlier."
Huh? She shuffles closer to me. "I just couldn't admit that when you said it, especially when I'd ignored you for so long. I know that was rather rude, but it was my parent's will. And you looked really good on my doorstep and then you were all nice on my bed and you seemed to spite Blaise so much and I dunno, it's like you cared about me for the first time."
"Pansy, I always appreciated the attention you gave me...like I said, you mean a lot to me. If I didn't, I wouldn't converse with you. It's just...I don't know what to make of this; of you now. Here you are dating Blaise and acting more mature, yet still following orders from your mum like you're 13 again."
"Draco, just shut up. Listen to me. I just, I don't want Blaise, I don't. I want -" She suddenly goes quiet and I turn to her to notice she's staring right at me. Her eyes focused in on mine burning a hole in my retinas.
"What?" I ask.
"I want to marry you."
And in one frightening movement she grabs the back of my head fiercely, tangles her manicured nails in my hair, and kisses me like my mouth is her only sustenance.