6. The Kiss
"That one looks like a Nargle," Pansy said, pointing at another cloud.
Draco chuckled. "Nobody's ever seen a Nargle except Loony Lovegood."
"So who says a Nargle doesn't look just like that cloud?"
They glanced at each other and burst out laughing. Pansy quickly looked up at the sky again. The grass tickled her legs and she tried very hard not to notice whatever critters were crawling up her hair. She didn't want to ruin this, one of those precious moments she and Draco had together, just them.
They lay on the lawn in companionable silence, until Pansy heard herself ask, "Do you ever wonder what it would have been like, if we… If we'd…" She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence and felt Draco grip her hand. She refused to look at him.
"Pansy, don't," he said quietly.
But Pansy's mouth seemed to have a will of its own, and while her brain screamed at herself to shut up, it just continued talking. "Because I do, you know. I do wonder. I wonder if, in another life, in another timeline, this would have worked out differently. If we could have been happy together. I like to think so."
"Pansy, please." His voice was soft but insistent, the grip on her hand tightening with every word. Pansy's ears registered the plea and all it implied but still her mouth continued.
"Because I do love you, you know. I always have. So I can't help but wonder about the what-ifs of our relationship. What if the Dark Lord had never returned. What if I'd followed you to France. What if that last year at Hogwarts had been different. What if... It never ends."
She didn't realise she was crying until she felt his fingers wipe away the tears. He'd propped himself up on one elbow and was leaning over her.
"Stop, please," Draco whispered, sadness and regret in his silver eyes.
"I can't help it," she whispered back.
He closed his eyes for a moment and took a shuddering breath. "You can't do this to me, Pans. Not now. I'm getting married in a week. You're my wife-to-be's maid of honour. How can you say this? Why now?" His voice was as broken as she felt.
"When will I have another chance?" Pansy tried to blink away the tears that didn't stop falling. She swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close he was to her.
He shook his head. "How can you tell me, now, at this time, that… You must know how much I've always cared about you. But this…"
She reached out to him, hesitantly tangled her fingers into his hair and dragged his head down until their lips collided. It was agony. It was bliss. It was everything she'd ever dreamed about and more. Her lips moved against his and for an eternal moment she feared he wouldn't kiss her back. But then he moved closer, one hand cradling her cheek, responding with all the passion she had always imagined he possessed. A spark of energy ran through her body and settled between her legs, throbbing and fluttering and setting every nerve ending on fire. The kiss wasn't sweet or tender, but biting, bruising force and a battle of tongues and lips that neither seemed to win. She let her hands wander down his back, feeling his muscles tense under her touch. He pressed closer, hungry, demanding, and she fell to pieces. He moved from her lips to her neck, nibbling, suckling, finding that spot with ruthless precision and she couldn't stop herself from uttering his name in a breathy voice. But that seemed to be the wrong move. He jerked away abruptly and sat up, eyes wide with lust and shame.
"No," he said hoarsely. "I do love you, Pansy. I love you so much. But I also love Hermione. I chose her. I'm spending the rest of my life with her. This isn't happening. I'm sorry. No."
Pansy had never known that her heart could swell with endless happiness and shatter into a million pieces in the space of not even two seconds. Draco stood up and brushed the grass and leaves off his trousers.
"Let's just pretend this never happened," he said, not meeting her eyes. He turned on his heel and walked back to the Manor without saying goodbye, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed.
Pansy remained on her back on the grass, cursing herself for ruining everything. She watched him walk away without moving, angry tears dripping into her ears and hair. He loved her. He walked away. He didn't even look back. He'd chosen her. She'd failed.
At least she could drown herself in alcohol without arousing suspicion at Hermione's hen do tonight.
AN: Special thanks to Chiseplushie for betaing! Hope you all enjoy reading.