8. The Consequences

Pansy had returned home in the early hours of the morning, wide awake. She'd slumped down in a chair, her head resting on her arms on the table. She wondered if and how she could convince the ground to swallow her whole. It was all going wrong, wrong, wrong. And then Draco Malfoy stormed into the room, silver eyes ablaze and robes flapping wildly.

"What the fuck did you do?"

He didn't wait for a response. He strode up to Pansy, dragged her to her feet and pressed his wand in the hollow of her neck. His other hand grabbed her hair and pulled down, forcing her to look up at him.

"What. The. Fuck. Did. You. Do. To. Hermione?" he ground out through gritted teeth.

Pansy had never before been afraid of Draco Malfoy. He was the boy she grew up with. Even in his darkest moments she had loved him unconditionally and she had never, ever been afraid. Now she understood why others once had been.

"I don't know what you mean," she said in a steely voice. "What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing? Let go of me. At. Once."

Whether he believed her or was startled by her tone didn't really matter, he did let go and lowered his wand, just a fraction.

"She called off the wedding." Fury, disbelief and hurt flitted over his face. "She bloody went and called off our wedding. After your fucking little girls' night. So what did you say, Parkinson. What did you do?"

Pansy blinked. "She… she called off the wedding?" she repeated, sagging back down on her chair.

"She did." The words were dispassionate, but Pansy knew Draco well enough to see the pain he was trying to hide.

"I… We…" She stopped. What could she say? She felt a twinge of guilt, but she tried to suppress it immediately. Wasn't this what she had wanted? Where was her wand, anyway? Why hadn't she kept it with her?

Just at that moment, the fire in Pansy's parlour turned emerald green. A few seconds later, a tear-stained Hermione tumbled out inelegantly. Draco reached out automatically to steady her.

"Pansy, I.. Oh…" She recognised Draco and froze. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, her eyes flitting uncertainly from one to the other.

"Hermione," Draco said, in that same flat voice that chilled Pansy to the core.

"Draco, I… I didn't expect to see you here." Hermione moved back a few steps. "I'm sorry, I should leave."

"Oh, no, please, do sit down and join us." Draco's voice was eerily devoid of any emotion, his face a deceptively calm mask and his grey eyes empty. Pansy shivered. "I was just telling Pansy about the change in plans."

"Draco…"

"She was just about to tell me what she had done to you to convince you not to marry me, you see. Do sit down." There was a command in his voice that brooked no opposition, and Hermione sat down opposite Pansy, her face hidden in her hands. Pansy noticed she was no longer wearing the beautiful sapphire ring.

Draco's mouth curved into a sharp smile that did not reach his eyes.

"It's much better to have these things out once and for all, isn't it?" He received no response. Pansy was very pointedly not looking at Hermione. She crossed her arms and studied her fireplace as if it was the first time she'd seen it. It certainly was the first time it had received this much attention.

"I should have known you'd go after Hermione somehow after I rejected you," Draco said with quiet conviction.

Hermione's head shot up. "What?"

Pansy kept staring at the fireplace, though her face had paled considerably. Her lips were pressed together in a thin line. Her shoulders tensed. She knew what was coming, but she wasn't going to admit defeat. She was Pansy Parkinson. Her chin lifted fractionally. She waited.

"Didn't she tell you that she came to the Manor yesterday? That she told me how much she loved me and always had? That we kissed and I rejected her because I had chosen you?" His words addressed Hermione but his eyes were fixed on Pansy.

"What? Pansy… Tell me that's not true…. Please…"

Pansy wished she could conjure up a laugh, and lie, and say he had read that situation all wrong. But she couldn't. She grit her teeth to refrain from turning to Hermione's pleading voice. Her eyes blinked. They couldn't see the one tear that ran down her cheek, it was turned away from both of them. But she could feel it, biting into her skin, a mockery of the sweet caresses of the night before.

Draco went on, relentless. "But that wasn't enough, was it, Pansy? You tried to convince me to break it off, you failed, and then you did something to Hermione." Draco's voice had lowered, soft and hypnotic. "Tell me what happened last night." When neither of the women reacted, he slammed his fist on the table and shouted, "Tell me!"

Pansy flinched at the sudden impact but still refused to look at either of them.

Hermione drew a deep breath. Her voice was broken, and from the corner of her eye Pansy could see how her shoulders sagged. "We had so much to drink. Played drinking games, you know the ones. 'Never Have I Ever.' I had to admit I'd never kissed a woman before. And we drank some more… and… Oh Draco, I'm so sorry. Pansy and I…" She couldn't continue but started crying instead.

Draco put a hand on her shoulder.

"You kissed," he asked, again in that soft hypnotic voice.

Hermione nodded. "And... more," she admitted through sobs.

Draco let out a cold and mirthless laugh. It sent a chill down Pansy's spine. Hermione was so startled that she stopped crying.

"You slept with my fiancee because I refused you? Oh Pansy, that is low, even for you."

Pansy still did not react. She was Petrified, unable to move, unable to speak. She could only wait.

"But it wasn't like that… Pansy… Tell him…" Hermione's pleading voice broke down and Draco laughed again. Pansy closed her eyes.

Hermione rose from her seat and clutched at Pansy's arm, trying to look into her eyes but Pansy kept her face turned away.

"Pansy, please, tell me it wasn't like that," Hermione whispered.

But Pansy couldn't say that. She didn't know what was true and what was not, not any more. So she said nothing. Not when Hermione cried again, her tears staining Pansy's robe. Not when Draco walked over, pried Hermione's fingers away from Pansy and told her, in a soothing, warm voice, "Let's go home, love."

Pansy just sat on her chair, eyes closed and face turned away until long after the pop of Disapparition told her that her visitors had gone. When the first stroke of noon from the clock in the hall resounded through the silent house, she crumpled and began to cry.

AN - Special thanks to Chiseplushie for beta-ing. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

PSA - Please know, I understand this story isn't everyone's cup of tea. That's fine, to each their own, no judgement. But if it isn't for you, please just move on. There's no need to ruin my day and all the joy I had writing this ficlet by letting me know in detail all that is wrong with it. I'm very aware it's no Ancilla or Persuading Draco. It never aspired to be anything but simple entertainment. Atm I just don't need the added negativity. So please, please, please, just don't. Thank you.

(Which isn't to say you can't yell at me for putting Pansy through the wringer, of course...)