3. ENVY
September 1995
"Would you like something off the trolley dears?"
Blaise Zabini swiftly slammed the compartment door in the fat witch's face and sunk back down onto the seat next to Theodore.
"Bit rude," Pansy pointed out.
"Yeah, you didn't even ask if we wanted anything," said Daphne grumpily. Millicent, Tracey and Queenie were playing Exploding Snap, while Daphne and Pansy were snuggled up reading the same issue of Witch Weekly.
Suddenly Malfoy pushed open the compartment door, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. "All right?" he said in his usual drawl. Everyone muttered their hellos.
"Draco!" Pansy blurted out. "You got so tall over the summer."
Blaise noticed that Pansy's cheeks were oddly pink. Malfoy smirked and squeezed himself in between Pansy and Theodore, who quickly had to move out of the way.
"No surprise who the two Slytherin Prefects ended up being," said Malfoy pompously, and Pansy put down her magazine to give him her full attention. The two of them were sporting identical P's on their robes.
"I was chuffed to bits when I got it in the post," said Pansy, smiling dazzlingly. "Weren't you?"
Blaise rolled his eyes.
"Everyone knew it would be you and I, isn't that right," Malfoy said smugly. "I mean, who else?"
Pansy smirked back at him. "Who else indeed?"
"That is mildly sickening," said Tracey Davis, and everyone but Malfoy and Pansy laughed.
"We'd better get to the Prefects meeting, Pans," ordered Draco. "We don't want to be late. We need to congratulate Weasley on not being a total bleeding idiot for once and actually beating Potter in something."
Blaise watched as Pansy hastily got up and sauntered after him, looking like she thought anyone would be happy to be in her position. Ridiculous.
That evening after the start of term feast, and after lazily leading the first years to the Slytherin common room, Draco threw himself down onto his favourite sofa, next to Pansy of course. He hadn't seen her for weeks over the summer and was craving her attention. He'd been thinking about what they'd confessed at the platform before going home for the summer. He wondered if it still applied.
"All right?"
"Hello, you," she smiled as he swiftly and confidently moved close to her so their arms were touching side by side.
"How's your day been?" he asked quietly, turning to look at her. They were so close he could kiss her.
"Haven't we had the same day?" she giggled and closed her Charms book. "An eight hour train ride and an equally long dinner. Oh, and don't forget our Prefect meeting with the stupid Gryffindorks."
"I don't know about you, but I for one am knackered," he yawned ostentatiously, and threw his arm around her shoulder. "Besting Potter time and time again takes it out of you."
Pansy playfully shoved him. "You're a prat."
He noticed that Pansy was wearing a necklace that was dangling on her skin dangerously close to the small curves on her chest. Had she always worn that under her robes? Or was this just the first time he'd noticed it? He had to force himself to look away.
"I told you about the train, didn't I? How I told him I saw his escaped prisoner of a Godfather in dog form. He probably thinks I know nothing, stupid Potter. In fact, I know a lot more than he does."
"Oh really?" she asked and leaned her head against his shoulder. Her face was almost touching his.
"My father told me about that Sirius Black, how he's hiding out in London as an Animagus. And Potter thinks we don't know." He snorted disdainfully. "My father also told me about Dumbledore's naive attempt at bringing the Giants over to his side. Ridiculous."
"What do you mean?" said Pansy, and stroked his chest. Draco quickly looked around to make sure nobody was listening in. Then he turned his head back to look at her, and played with a lock of her hair.
"He sent that half-breed Hagrid to negotiate with the Giants."
"How do you know that?"
"My father told me. They sent some Death Eaters to do the same. For Him."
Pansy ran her fingers through his hair, and he shivered pleasurably. "Yeah, my dad said," she mumbled. He enjoyed the feeling of her fingers in his hair and could feel his breathing slow down.
"Would you ever join him?" she asked after a moment's silence. Draco was broken out of his bliss of her caressing his hair. He avoided her eyes pointedly.
"Perhaps."
"Oh really?" she asked quietly.
He let out a groan. It was the first time she'd ever stroked his hair and it felt so good. He couldn't stop himself from thinking he wanted those hands on other parts of him too. It felt strangely intimate, because they had never kissed, and were only friends – technically.
She gave his hair a tug, and said. "Right, we'd better make sure the first years get to bed. Curfew."
Draco very reluctantly got up after her.
November 1995
White snow was whirling down from the magical ceiling in the Great Hall, as the fifth year Slytherins enjoyed their lunch. Well, not all. The girls were collectively on a diet, not for the first time. It had been Pansy's initiative – after watching her mother follow "Witch Watchers" on and off for years, it had rubbed off on her.
Daphne slapped Queenie's hand as the latter reached out for a bread roll.
"Oi!" Queenie exclaimed, and her head whipped around to give Daphne an infuriated look.
"No cheating!" said Daphne.
"I'm so starving I could eat a hippogriff," Queenie complained. "Not going to lie," she added with a scowl, "I only agreed to this diet because I reckoned it'd be a doddle."
"Why would you think that when school provides every potential food we could imagine?" snapped Daphne.
"Just thought I'd always sit next to Crabbe and lose my appetite," shrugged Queenie.
Pansy picked at her salad with her fork aimlessly, while watching Crabbe's huge portion of roast beef, roast potatoes and gravy with a jealous look on her face.
Daphne, who had glanced over at him too, wrinkled her nose. "He might as well be a Muggle, with those manners."
Pansy, Queenie and Millicent snorted in mirth, but Tracey narrowed her eyes. "Can we not?"
"You're not a Muggle, you shouldn't take offence," shrugged Daphne, "Half-bloods are ok."
"Well, cheers for that," said Tracey sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
"Don't get your wand in a knot," said Queenie. "Always so sensitive."
"For Merlin's sake," muttered Tracey and got up from the Slytherin table. "Shut up about my Blood. My family. Or I'll get started on your Death Eater dad."
"All right, all right," said Queenie, holding up her hands in feigned innocence. "I'm not the one who said it, it was Daph." She jabbed Daphne with her elbow, and the latter sent her a glare.
"You're all as bad as each other," quipped Tracey before she grabbed her book bag and promptly left them. They followed her with their gazes for a moment as she walked out of the Great Hall.
"Probably on her period," muttered Millicent.
Pansy, Daphne and Queenie laughed.
"Anyway, did you hear about Lisa Turpin?" said Pansy maliciously with an eye roll. "Ravenclaw rich girl whose daddy is a Hogs governor? Zacharias Smith split up with her last weekend."
"She's always acting the good girl," said Daphne disdainfully. "But Bletchley told me he got her to suck him off in a broom cupboard off the third-floor corridor. And he did it back to her as well."
"No way," said Queenie. "How in Merlin's beard did Bletchley manage that?"
"Well, he is Number Three," said Pansy, referring to the list of Hogwarts' Top Ten Blokes they'd made in third year. "Although I personally have never seen what that's all about."
"He is really goodlooking," Daphne said. "And he's manipulative, so I'm not surprised he got her to do it."
"Oh come off it," said Pansy, "You make it sound like it's some disgusting thing for girls. If she wanted to get off with him then why not? If boys can do it, so can we."
"Any self-respecting witch wouldn't let Miles Bletchley go down on them in a broom cupboard."
"Why not?" said Pansy, suddenly fired up. "Why should us girls not get to enjoy anything?"
"Personally, if I was having oral sex in a broom cupboard, it wouldn't be with Miles Bletchley," said Queenie with a crooked smile. "I know he's Number Three, but I'd personally rank Blaise higher."
"No way," said Daphne, "Miles is unreal. I wish I'd gone for him last year instead of Montague."
"All the Quidditch players are fit," said Pansy, "Especially in their kit and on their brooms. And since Diggory kicked the bucket, the top spot is open."
"No doubt you're going to suggest Malfoy gets the top spot," said Queenie scathingly. "But you can dream on, Pans. You're the only one who thinks he's good looking."
"No I'm not!" she protested, and made sure Malfoy wasn't listening. He was eating with Crabbe and Goyle a few seats down the Slytherin table. "I think most girls would agree with me that he's an eight out of ten."
"Six," said Queenie derisively.
"Seven at best," added Daphne.
"Sod off."
"What do you see in him anyway?"
Pansy held up her hands to defend herself. "Malfoy is very fanciable," she insisted. "He's clearly a high achiever - good marks, big social life, he's a Prefect and on the Quidditch team. He's ambitious."
"All Slytherins are ambitious," Queenie shrugged.
"Ok, but," Pansy protested. "He's also goodlooking…"
"We've already established no one else thinks that, you div."
Pansy shot Queenie a glare. "…Pureblood…"
"As is ninety percent of Slytherin," Queenie interrupted again.
"He's funny," added Pansy with a scowl at her friend.
"I'll give you that one," said Daphne, but Millicent wrinkled her nose.
"I dunno, mate," she said. "He can be well annoying. When he's preaching about Dumbledore or Potter or Umbridge or his dad or whoever."
Pansy shot her a scornful look. "He's passionate! He has opinions. Just because you'd rather sit around with Crabbe and eat sweets and grunt at each other doesn't mean the rest of us don't want intelligent conversation."
"Bitch."
"Anyway, he's charming when he wants to be," said Pansy.
"Smarmy, more like it," said Millicent. Pansy hit her on the arm.
She turned back to Queenie and smirked. "Anyway, I fancy him. And I can't explain why. It's a Slytherin thing."
"He better get a move on then," said Queenie. "Before some other geezer comes along."
Pansy wrinkled her nose at her. "As if I'd be interested in anyone else. Who would that even be?"
"Maybe Number Two."
"Roger Davies is never single so there's no point bothering with him," said Daphne.
"We better get to Charms," said Millicent dully, looking at her watch.
Pansy sighed but got up and followed her friends out of the Great Hall. When they reached the Charms classroom, she saw Draco, Crabbe and Goyle at the very back. He caught her eyes and motioned for her to join him. As she made her way through the classroom, her girlfriends in tow, she saw Draco making Crabbe get up from the seat next to Draco and sit on the opposite side of the table. She smirked as she arrived, and took the seat he'd saved for her next to him. He smirked back.
"You all right?" he mumbled as everyone took their seats and Flitwick began the introduction of today's lesson.
She shrugged. "Hungry."
"For Merlin's sake," he sniggered, rolling his eyes. "Stop with the bloody diet."
She smiled. "Got to stay on top of my game."
"You're fine the way you are," he muttered, and slung his arm around her neck.
She couldn't help the grin that spread on her face, sneaking a glance up at him. He was looking at Flitwick, pretending to pay attention.
"Always room for improvement."
"Girls," he said, shaking his head.
The sudden physical closeness wasn't anything new but it made her heart pound as usual and she found it hard to listen to what Flitwick was saying. She swallowed thickly and hoped Draco didn't notice. She leaned into his embrace and slid her hand onto his thigh, playing with the stitching of his trousers under the table, while holding her breath. She didn't know why she did it, but it felt right. His other arm that wasn't around her neck moved closer, and he grabbed her hand and trailed his fingers into hers. He'd never done that before.
Her lips parted in shock, and she looked up at him from the corner of her eye, but Draco kept his gaze at the Professor. Suddenly she noticed his pale neck was getting slightly pink.
As usual, they ignored the Erumpent in the room, but she had to swallow thickly again and she felt herself shivering from excitement, as she always did when he was physically flirty with her. Because surely, that was what he was doing? Or was this merely platonic?
He cleared his throat and muttered, "Do you fancy a walk around the grounds after dinner?"
What did this mean? She looked up at him and whispered, "Do we not have prefect patrols tonight?"
"Nah, it's Macmillan and Abbott. I already checked."
She smiled. So, had he planned to ask her this then?
"Okay then."
She couldn't focus on anything Professor Flitwick said for the rest of the lesson and when her and Daphne practiced on each other, she wasn't able to perform the Silencing Charm on her friend even once.
"Get your head out of the clouds," said Daphne as they left the Charms classroom and headed back to the common room to do their homework after the last lesson of the day. "What's wrong with you anyway?"
"Nothing," smirked Pansy. "The opposite. I couldn't focus because Draco asked me on a date tonight."
"A date?" Daphne gaped at her and a huge smiled formed on her face. "Tonight?"
"Yes, to go for a walk around the castle after dinner! Anyway, I assume it's a date?"
Daphne's joy turned to horror as she exclaimed, "You know it's raining Kneazles and Crups outside, don't you?"
She dragged Pansy to the nearest window and Pansy saw it for herself. The rain was pouring down and the clouds thick and grey. "Oh no!"
"We'll just have to hope it stops in the next two hours," said Daphne decisively as they descended the stairs into the dungeons. "Or you'll have to go for a walk inside the castle. It's not the end of the world."
"But a walk inside the castle would just be like what we do twice a week anyway for Prefect patrols," Pansy pointed out. "A walk around the grounds sounds more romantic. Maybe he'll hold my hand. Or snog me."
Luckily, after they had finished their dream diaries homework for Professor Trelawney and finished their cottage pie for dinner (forgetting all about their diet), the sky in the Great Hall was beginning to clear up. Instead, it was filling with stars even though it was only dinner time. It was Scotland in November after all.
"You ready, Pans?"
Draco had approached her at the Slytherin table, his cloak already fastened. He handed her hers.
"It's already getting dark," said Pansy as she got up from the Slytherin table and took it. "Do you think we're actually allowed to go out?"
He smirked. "We're Prefects. We can say we're patrolling the grounds if anyone questions it."
She smiled and joined him. The conversation was politer than usual as they exited the castle through the Transfiguration courtyard and began making their descent down the slopes towards the Quidditch pitch.
"Ugh, such a peasant," said Pansy, wrinkling her nose towards Hagrid's hut in the distance.
"I know," sneered Draco, "Nobody in their right mind would employ an oaf like that."
"Yeah, Dumbledore's an old dingbat. It was hilarious when Umbridge inspected Hagrid though, wasn't it."
"It was brilliant. He got what he deserved. Finally someone's actually doing something good for this school. Everything would be better without Dumbledore at this bloody school."
Draco would one day come to regret those words, even if he didn't know it yet.
"Surely he'll pop his clogs soon," said Pansy. "He's like... a hundred and fifty."
"We should be ruling the school," Draco muttered.
Pansy raised one eyebrow. "We do rule the school."
"I mean properly rule the school. We need to join the Inquisitorial Squad."
"The what?"
"Umbridge has this idea about a group of rule enforcers, higher up than the Prefects."
"But we're the Prefects."
He turned to her. "We'd be both, Pansy."
"Oh please," said Pansy scornfully, "I'd rather eat slugs than have even more responsibility."
Draco sneered. "Ah, brings back glorious memories, doesn't it? Speaking of Weasley, did you hear he made their team?"
"Yes, hilarious, made my day, can't wait to see him fail," she replied. "But still, I don't need any more duties."
"You mean, more power," he said pointedly.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "You really think it's a good idea?"
He met her eyes and nodded. "Of course."
She paused. "I'll have a think," she said finally. He nodded, looking pleased.
When they got back to the murky common room half an hour later, they sat down next to each other in a sofa and pretended to do their homework.
Suddenly, Draco scoffed. "Wouldn't it be hilarious if we cheered for Weasley on Saturday?"
Pansy raised an eyebrow sceptically. "Did you suddenly forget what house you belong to?"
He laughed. "No, what I mean is…" His grey eyes were glistening maliciously. "You know what his nerves are like. You saw it when we went to their first practice. He drops the Quaffle as soon as anyone looks at him."
"Right…"
"He can't handle pressure. He's a terrible Keeper either way, but his nerves can't handle the attention."
"I don't get that, you know," said Pansy. "I love attention."
"You're missing the point, Pans!"
"What are you on about?"
"As long as we keep Weasley feeling self-conscious, he won't be able to save a single goal."
"You want us to, what, heckle him?"
"Yes," sneered Draco. "We need to get all of Slytherin to be in on it. Instead of cheering for our team, we need to sabotage theirs. And it's so simple. All we have to do is cheer for Weasley."
A spiteful smile slowly spread across Pansy's face as she realised what he wanted them to do.
"We're going to crush him."
"Yes," Draco agreed, his smile widening as he met her eyes. "We're going to write a cheer. Or a song. And teach it to the whole house."
Pansy's eyes lit up in sudden ingenuity. "And we'll make badges! Not badges for Slytherin, but badges against Gryffindor."
"Against Weasley!" Draco agreed. He high fived her and she laughed.
"Ok, let's get to work."
"What are you up to?" said Crabbe, as he and Goyle slung themselves down in the hard backed armchairs next to them a few minutes later.
"We're making badges for Quidditch," said Pansy impatiently.
"Who's the king?" Goyle asked, peering over to get a closer look at the crown shaped badges. "Malfoy?"
"Can we have everyone's attention please!" shouted Draco suddenly, as he got up. An hour later they had filled in the whole of Slytherin house, handed out badges and sheets of lyrics and told them to practice.
Pansy was smirking in the centre of attention for the rest of the evening. "Any Slytherin that is not wearing their Weasley is our King badge on Saturday - I will personally put you in detention!"
Draco laughed loudly while Crabbe and Goyle guffawed.
Pansy turned to them with a smirk. "I do have the power after all."
"You're a right laugh, Pansy," said Draco, as if he'd just realised this. "That's why I like you."
She grinned at him, unable to stop herself. He was so close Pansy could smell his expensive cologne. When his hand ended up on her leg, she froze and held her breath. His hand traced circles on her thigh while they both read in their books, albeit distracted.
Thinking back, it had always been fun. It had always been light-hearted. Before the Dark Lord. They hadn't had a care in the world. It brought a wave of nostalgia over her now. A deep urge to cling onto something that didn't exist anymore. Why couldn't it still be like this?
Was the beginning always better than the middle, or the end?
February 1996
"Go on Draco!" Pansy screamed from the Slytherin stands, clapping her hands enthusiastically. His own cheerleader, he thought smugly. Of course they had to celebrate their big win after in the common room.
"The Fire Whiskey is only for the players," said Draco, and he added with a smirk at Pansy, "And our girls."
Pansy's cheeks flushed and she was so close he could smell her sweet girly perfume. He wanted to get her drunk and snog her. Or was he taking advantage of a childhood friend? The lines were being blurred.
Later as he was coming back from the boys lavatory, he overheard two voices talking in an alcove in the common room. Curious, he stopped and quietly leaned closer to listen.
"How was it then, your date with him the other night?" he could hear Daphne Greengrass asking.
"It was nice." It was Pansy's voice. "Just a walk. Nothing special."
"He fancies you," he could hear Daphne Greengrass saying.
"I know."
Both girls giggled, and Draco felt his face go warm and his palms suddenly felt sweaty, clutching his Butterbeer bottle.
"What do you mean you know?"
"I just know. I can tell. Also, he kind of told me."
Draco rolled his eyes behind the stone wall. Pansy's self-assured voice came floating from the opening.
"He what?" Daphne exclaimed.
"Well, he said he liked me. I'm not sure what that means. Is it the same as fancy?"
"Yes, I think so. Aww, I'm so happy for you. You mustn't forget about me when you become Mrs Malfoy."
Pansy laughed and said sarcastically. "As if that would ever happen. Anyway, I love you lots. You're my number one."
"Love you lots, bestie," said Daphne. "Let's go back in."
Draco hurried to make it back before them. When Daphne and Pansy came back to sit down in the sofas with Draco and the other boys, she sent him a smile before taking her place next to him.
"Why is your wand so short?" said Daphne scathingly to Crabbe, who was clutching his short, thicker than normal, hawthorn wand.
"Fuck off, my wand's normal sized," Crabbe said, and quickly stuffed it down his pocket.
"You know they say there's a link between a boy's wand and his… you know what."
The girls all laughed while the boys protested. Draco rolled his eyes.
Pansy turned to Draco. "Why, how long is your wand?"
"Eight inches," he smirked.
"Which wand are you talking about?"
They both laughed loudly.
"Hungry?" she asked and motioned towards the cauldron cakes on the coffee table. He shrugged. Pansy picked one up and held out a piece of it towards him. He opened his mouth and she flirtily fed it to him. He accepted it while smirking. She always turned him on.
But he stopped getting his hopes up because even if Pansy seemed to enjoy when he flirted with her, she didn't flirt back or encourage him. And the conversation between the girls he'd overheard hadn't specified how she felt about him, only that she knew that he did.
When Pansy fell asleep in the common room later that evening, he put his robe over her as a blanket with a sigh. He couldn't help but to think to himself - how many more days would go by without them doing anything?
After Potter outed his father as a Death Eater in that silly magazine, Draco was fuming all week. So at another party in the common room that following Friday after too many Fire Whiskeys to calm his temper and settle his thoughts, he let Melinda Bletchley from the year below lead him off to an alcove off the dungeon corridor outside the common room. Because if Pansy fancied him she would've snogged him at the Yule Ball right? Or at the platform before summer holidays. He'd also told her he liked her and flirted with her lots and she never did it back. He was getting irritated now.
It had been over a year after all since he asked her to the ball. A year since he gave her a Valentine's card. Seven months since he told her he wanted to kiss her. Two months since he told her he liked her. She wasn't giving him anything back. She clearly didn't like him back. He'd left the Quaffle in her court so many times, and she never passed it back to him. He needed to move on.
He tried to push Pansy out of his head as he tried to listen to what Miles Bletchley's little sister was saying. She had long blond hair, nothing like Pansy's short brown.
"I think what you're doing with Miss Umbridge is so good," she simpered. "It's about time someone took the standards of this school into their own hands."
He knew she was trying to flatter him, but he instinctively wrinkled his nose. His words came effortlessly however. "Oh yes, when Professor Umbridge presented the idea I knew I was the clear choice to lead the Squad, of course."
"And you're so good on the team," she said smiling, and stepping slightly closer to him.
"Thanks."
"My brother always says you're a pain in his backside though," she laughed.
Draco's jaw clenched. "Your brother is a dictator on the pitch."
"My brother isn't going to like this," she said, and boldly reached up to kiss him.
He froze for a second, and then the alcohol acted for him. He kissed her back.
He couldn't help but to wonder what Pansy would think of this if she saw him, just as Melinda twirled her tongue around his mouth and placed her arms around his neck. But what did this have to do with Pansy anyway? He focused instead on trying to enjoy Melinda's lips. Like any teenaged boy of course he wanted to snog some girls, but this wasn't as enjoyable as he had thought it would be.
"I always wanted to do that," Melinda grinned when they broke apart.
"Yeah," he muttered, and avoided looking at her. He wiped his mouth.
Out of the corner of his eye, suddenly he could see five Slytherin girls walking by in the corridor. Only from glimpsing their hair he could tell it was Pansy, Daphne, Queenie, Millicent, and Tracey. He swore under his breath, moved out of the way and dragged Melinda with him.
"What is—?" came Tracey's voice. Suddenly, her head popped in behind the pillar, spotting them. She frowned. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"
"Who is it?" he could hear Pansy and Daphne asking.
Draco muttered another swear word under his breath and quickly stepped away from Melinda, just as Pansy and the rest of the girls peered their heads behind the pillar too.
Pansy had a smile on her face that instantly froze, and then faltered. She looked between Draco and Melinda for a few seconds. Draco wasn't sure where to look.
"Oh," she said then, swallowing thickly.
"Let's go," said Daphne, and pulled Queenie along. Tracey and Millicent quickly hurried after.
Draco cleared his throat. He wished Melinda would just leave too. He wanted to explain.
"Hi Pans."
"Hi," she said, forcing a sort of chilly polite tone he'd never heard from her before. "Right, well. I'll see you later."
She quickly turned on her heel and went after her friends.
"No, Pansy, wait," he exclaimed, and reached out for her arm, but she was already gone.
He turned back to Melinda who had an awkward smile on her face. When he didn't say anything, his thoughts rushing through his head and embarrassment on his cheeks, she said, "Is she your...?"
"No," he said coolly.
"I mean, I see you two together all the time, so I wasn't sure."
"We're friends," he said shortly. He ran a hand through his hair, still avoiding looking at her.
"Ok, so you haven't done anything wrong then?"
He hesitated and then swallowed thickly, making his mind up on the spot. "No, but I've got to go."
He left without another word and jogged back to the common room, vaguely registering her confused call after him.
The girls were huddled together like leeches when he got back inside and spotted them by the sofas around the fireplace. They all sent him dirty looks as he approached.
"Pansy," he said breathlessly.
She turned to him but didn't say anything. She was looking at him with a coldness in her eyes, surrounded by her loyal friends.
"What do you want Malfoy?" said Daphne without any pretence of politeness.
"None of your business," he said without taking his eyes off Pansy. "You want to come outside for a second?"
Queenie scoffed. "No, she doesn't. We all know what you do 'outside' now, Malfoy."
"Pansy," he said, and his tone was softer, his eyes not leaving hers. Her jaw clenched, and she looked away. Then she gave a cold shrug and said, "Fine."
She reluctantly got up and followed him outside the common room. He prayed Melinda wasn't still in the corridor outside.
It seemed empty, thank Merlin. Pansy turned away from him and looked towards Snape's classroom door as the portrait shut behind them and they were alone in the dungeon corridor. "What do you want Draco?"
"To talk to you," he said. He stayed still and didn't immediately speak, so she finally turned to face him.
She sighed. "I'm here, talk to me."
"You're annoyed."
She scoffed. "No, I'm not."
"Yes you are."
"No, I'm not!" she said, raising her voice and proving him right.
He smiled.
"Don't you smirk at me," she warned.
"I'm not," he snorted.
She bit her lip. They stared at each other for a while, daring the other to be the first to speak. Neither of them picking up the imaginary Quaffle.
"I'm not annoyed," she said.
There were so many unspoken things between them, yet they both knew. They'd known for a while. He grinned now. "Yes you are. I would be."
She raised an eyebrow. "Is that why you did it?"
"No," he said.
"Why'd you do it?" she asked casually.
He snorted. "Why not?"
She shrugged. "Yeah, why not."
"I didn't think you cared."
She scoffed again. "I don't."
She was challenging him to say it first and he was waiting for her.
Finally, he gave in. "Yes, you do," he said slowly. "Just like I would care."
She paused for a second, meeting his eyes. "Why?"
She was baiting him now, he knew. He took a step closer. She licked her lips.
"Because," he said, and looked straight into her eyes. "We fancy each other."
She snorted. "Oh really?"
He took another step closer and gave a small smile. "Yes."
"You think so, do you?" she said quietly. She glanced at his lips. It was the only sign of confirmation he needed. He took two more steps so he was stood right in front of her. She didn't back away, even though they were almost touching now. He grabbed her waist. She didn't move. She took a deep breath. His eyes moved between her eyes and her lips, and back again.
"I know so," he said.
"Then why'd you snog someone else?" she asked quietly. Some of her previous pretence was gone at this statement. His hands moved from her waist to the small of her back. He knew she wouldn't stop him. He knew she wanted this. Every movement was indication of this, every time he got closer and she didn't pull away. Wordless approval. She was against the wall now, and he was right in front of her, their bodies touching. It was obvious.
"I..." he breathed, and he could see and feel how her face inched slightly closer, "It wasn't a snog. Just a kiss."
Her eyes hardened again and she pulled her face back just slightly. "Still."
"I didn't think you'd be bothered." He moved his face slowly closer.
"You're a prat," she breathed, and he could feel her hot breath reach his lips, that's how close they were. His hands moved up her back, while her hands fell onto his chest. She could push him away if she wanted to. But he knew, finally confidently, smugly, that she didn't want to. Months of physical closeness with no conclusion had brought them to this.
"You fancy me," he whispered into her slightly parted lips.
"No, I don't," she breathed onto his lips.
"I fancy you," he whispered. She paused for a moment, taking this in. Then finally she smiled, and gave the final signal he'd been waiting for – she tilted her chin up just a fraction and closed her eyes. It was all he needed. Their lips finally met, tentatively, and he urged hers apart with his. It felt nothing like it had with Melinda merely minutes earlier – cold and dry. This felt like fireworks and electricity. Like heat spreading all through his body like a current. Like pure selfish satisfaction. Like winning at Quidditch. Like the shivers through his body when she'd stroked his hair in the common room. One, two, three small, tender, seeking pecks, turned into five, six, seven. Ten little kisses. Fifteen. Soon he lost count.
Her arms relaxed and snaked themselves around his neck. His hands moved down her sides again, and up again. Her hands moved to the sides of his neck, and into his hair. All while kissing, never stopping. He wrapped his arms around her and she clung to him harder too, while their kisses grew wetter. He slipped his tongue inside her mouth and it met hers. Over and over again they kissed, until his insides turned from simply bliss to arousal, as his hands kept moving around on her, trying to feel every part of her he was allowed. It was almost as though she could sense that, because she pulled her face back to take a deep breath, and she looked at him and smiled. He smiled dazedly back.
She gave him another peck.
"More," he muttered. She giggled.
"My friends are going to have a field day with this."
"Who cares what they think," he said, and kissed her again. She kissed him back.
"Everyone else are idiots," he said, and he added with a smirk, "Except the two of us."
Pansy smiled warmly. "Except the two of us."
He kissed her again. She reciprocated whole heartedly. Then she pulled back again and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "You're not going to kiss any more fourth years now?"
"No," he smirked, and kissed her cheek.
"Nor any more of your teammates sisters?"
"No," he laughed, and nuzzled her ear.
"Nor anyone in fifth year, or sixth, or any other year?"
"No," he confirmed, and kissed her again. She smiled against his lips.
"Nor—"
"Shut up Pansy," he said, silencing her with more kisses.
"Tell me then," she said in between kisses.
"I'm your boyfriend."
She smiled, and trailed her fingers into his. "Okay."
"You're my girlfriend."
She smirked. "Fine."
He looked at her like all his dreams had come true.
March 1996.
"What is that smell?" Pansy exclaimed as she burst into the boys' dormitory. "Did a Goblin die in here?"
Draco, who was on his bed, looked up from his History of Magic textbook and wrinkled his nose. "It's Crabbe's socks. And hello to you too. Obviously your antlers are gone then?"
"Yes," said Pansy and rolled her eyes. "Madam Pomfrey got rid of them. When I catch whoever did that to me, I will make their life living hell."
She joined him on the bed. "I know. Those bloody Gryffindors are wreaking havoc. Montague was pushed into a cabinet by the Weasley Twins and disappeared, then showed up again in a toilet. And someone cursed Crabbe's toenails to grow out of his socks and shoes."
"Wait, back up," she said, holding up a hand. "Montague showed up in a toilet?"
"It was a whole thing. Oh and Potter now does Remedial Potions."
"Remedial Potions?"
"It's been a day. At least I took points off Granger for being a Mudblood."
Pansy laughed loudly at this.
"You should've seen the looks on their faces when I told them about the Squad."
"I can imagine. Those stupid Gryffindorks never saw us coming. Finally we can have some justice after old Dumbly has put them on a pedestal for five years."
"Yes, it's finally our time," Draco agreed with a smirk. "The Gryffindors aren't going to get away with anything anymore. Umbridge and the Squad will see to that."
Suddenly, she crept closer and climbed on top of him. "You know," she said teasingly as she straddled him. "The new decree says boys and girls aren't allowed to be within ten inches of each other."
Draco smirked, and his hands flew to her hips. "Now why would Umbridge do that to us?"
Pansy smirked back. "Umbridge isn't here now…"
He wiggled his eyebrows, and she laughed and grabbed his tie, pulling him closer. He kissed her hungrily, his hands running all over her.
"You used to be Pansy. But now you're… Pansy."
She knew what he meant. "You're obsessed with me. When did that happen?" she laughed smugly.
"I don't know."
She briefly wondered if it was the same as it had been for her. Slowly, and then all at once.
"You fancy me so much," she teased him.
Draco snorted. "Oh please. You can't go five minutes without snogging me."
"No you can't," she insisted, slapping his chest.
He began kissing her again, but after a few minutes he could tell she wasn't as passionate about it as she'd been before.
"What's wrong?" he muttered.
"I'm just annoyed."
"What are you annoyed about?"
"You won't care."
"Try me," he ordered casually.
"I'm annoyed that you snogged Bletchley's sister. And I know it's before we got together. I know it's not rational and I've got no right to be annoyed but I still am."
Draco laughed. "It wasn't a snog. And I love that you're jealous."
"I'm not jealous," she insisted heatedly. "I'm annoyed."
He smirked. "Jealous. And I love it."
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Of course you do, you prick."
"It was nothing," he said, "Just a kiss. Physical." He wrinkled his nose. "I just… didn't think you fancied me."
"How could you not know I fancied you."
He snorted. "Maybe I needed it spelled out to me."
"You're so stupid."
"I thought I made it pretty obvious that I fancied you."
"I never knew. But, I guess… it takes two to duel," said Pansy, shrugging.
"Is that you admitting responsibility?"
"I... suppose," she said hesitantly.
"I wasn't thinking and it didn't mean anything."
"I just don't like the idea that someone else was your first kiss. When you were my first."
"I'd take it back if I could, if that helps."
"It makes me want to hex your balls off."
He laughed loudly and pulled her close to him. He kissed the top of her head and said, "I love that."
"Nobody makes my blood boil like you," she said, giving him a faux angry look. He sniggered. She grabbed his tie again and pulled him towards him.
Draco gave out a throaty groan when she kissed his neck. It made her smirk, smug that she had elicited that response from him for the first time. It was confirmation that he was turned on by her – although she knew that already of course, but it gave her confidence that she could make him feel good.
"I better go before Snape catches me here," she said reluctantly and pulled away from him. He playfully grabbed her harder.
"You're not going anywhere."
She laughed and struggled with him to get out of his grip. "Stop it Draco! I have to go back to my dorm. You know I'd lose a million points for Slytherin if I was caught in here."
"If you insist," he said reluctantly. She gave him a final kiss. "But if you want to stay you can. And watch me have a wank."
"Ugh, you're so disgusting!" she exclaimed, slapping his chest and pushing him away from her.
"Then you better go," Draco smirked. "I've got things to do."
She got out of bed even though she would love to stay more than anything. "Think about me," she smirked as she sauntered away and blew him a kiss over her shoulder.
September 1998
The gloomy mid-September dusk light shone in through the large Victorian sash windows in Pansy's bedroom at the Parkinson manor when he entered and saw her sitting by the vanity painting her nails a classic Slytherin green. She looked up, spotting him in the mirror in front of her and gave a polite smile, nothing like the ones she used to give him.
"Evening, my love," he said, smiling at her as he walked up to her and embraced her from behind. She physically recoiled away from him.
"What?" he said, clearly offended.
"Nothing," she said quickly, and screwed the lid on the nail varnish. "I'm sorry, I was just doing my nails. Just didn't want you to mess them up. You can give me a hug now. Just be careful."
She held out her arms with her hands pointed far apart so he could give her a hug without smudging her nails. He swallowed his pride at the rejection, and did as he was told. When he leant in to give her a kiss though, her head moved back the tiniest bit so he had to lean in even further to kiss her.
"How was work?" she asked reluctantly when they broke apart, because she didn't actually care.
"Busy," he sighed as he removed his travelling cloak, threw it on a chair and got on her large four poster bed. "I'm knackered. But not just because of work. I saw Rita Skeeter today."
Pansy turned to him, surprised. "Pardon?"
"Well, you know howSkeeter wrote that special feature on Potter?"
"Yeah?" Pansy asked sceptically. Just after the battle, there had indeed been a twenty page article in the Prophet called Harry Potter: Noble or Nutter? There were even rumours now that there was a book coming.
"I asked her to do the same for me."
"You what?"
"To redeem myself. To explain myself. I don't know. I just want them all to forgive me. Or at least stop looking at me like I'm vermin. I want the Howlers to stop. I just want to be left alone."
"And did she want to do it?"
"You know we had a good relationship with her back in fourth, when we used to feed her gossip from inside the school during the tournament. She agreed to do an interview with me. I'll be able to tell my side of the story. Of how the Dark Lord never gave me a choice. Of how young I was when I was forced to join. How he forced me to do things under the threat of killing my family."
"I know, love." Finally a hint of warmth and affection came from Pansy. She blew on her nails and then held out her hand, expecting him to hold it. He trailed his fingers into hers. There was an abundance of love there after all. Of long-standing loyalty.
She decided to sleep with him to try and make herself feel something, or to convince herself of something perhaps. After kissing on her bed for a quarter of an hour however, he groaned.
"Sorry."
"What is it?"
"I can't…." he muttered, motioning at his pelvis.
"That's ok," she said, and kissed him again. "Do you want me to…?"
"No," he said, "Take your knickers off. I want to taste you."
But after he'd gone down on her for fifteen minutes and still didn't seem in any rush to move things along, she demanded, "Come here. Let's just do it."
It may have been the slight urgency that put him off again. He started kissing her again to buy time and work himself up again.
"Enough," she groaned. "Fuck me already."
Somehow he knew it wasn't that she was so turned on she needed to have him – it was that she was keen to get it over with. And that was the whole problem.
"Give me a second," he muttered.
"What's wrong?" she said impatiently.
"I don't know," he snapped. "It's not working."
"What's not working?"
He sent her a rude look and motioned between his legs.
She rolled her eyes and snapped, "Well I can see that. But why isn't it working?"
"I don't know do I," he defended himself quickly. "I've never malfunctioned before."
"Well just… get it going."
"I'm trying," he snapped. "You whinging about it isn't helping."
"Oh my goodness Draco, of course I'm annoyed. It's insulting. Why wouldn't it work."
"I don't know all right!"
"I guess you're not attracted to me anymore then," she muttered and promptly turned away from him in bed and drew the duvet over her naked body.
He thought that perhaps it was the opposite. He didn't feel like she was attracted to him anymore and that was why he couldn't get his head in the right frame of mind.
They slept with their backs against each other and the next morning she just wanted him to leave. Or better yet, her. She wanted to escape.
They used to cling to each other like their lives depended upon it as they slept. They used to sneak around and break every rule just so they could sleep in the same bed at Hogwarts. It used to be heaven to lie there in the darkness with him behind his green and silver curtains and breathe the same air as him and listen to him sleep. Now, the fact that his mild snoring kept her from sleep purely annoyed her. She used to want to spend all morning cuddling. She remembered when they used to kiss just to pass the time. It had been her favourite hobby. Now it was just for the obligatory foreplay.
She was relieved when he left to play Quidditch.
"You look nice," Draco said as he kissed her cheek. The House Elf that had just opened the door for her took her travelling cloak and Pansy gave her fiancé a forced smile.
"Thank you."
"Thanks for coming."
"Of course I'm here, it's our engagement party."
"I know, but…" he said, and stopped himself. He cleared his throat. She knew he meant because things had been weird between them the day before. "Let's go in."
Malfoy manor was alive in its old grandeur again, decorated and bright, it had come to life like before the Dark Lord. It was happy again, like in their childhood. Draco led her into the parlour, not the drawing room, because that room was out of bounds now.
Narcissa was joined by Graham and Perpetua Parkinson, all politely sipping elf-made wine in an armchair each, all in their finest pearls and presumably discussing the two families joining.
"Darlings!" said Perpetua loudly, and got up to air kiss her daughter's cheeks. After polite greetings, they all sat.
Narcissa who was always cold, had an air of warmth around her for once. "My darling Pansy, how pleased I am you're joining our family."
"Thanks, Mrs Malfoy," said Pansy politely, and she knew that a couple years ago this approval would've meant the world to her. It still did, in a way.
"I'm so pleased you chose each other," Narcissa went on. "I always knew you'd turn out a fine young woman."
Pansy swallowed thickly, and Draco put his hand on top of hers. She forced herself to hold it.
"Oh, bish-bosh, Narcissa!" said Perpetua slightly drunkenly and her glass swayed, spilling a few drops. "It's Pansy who should be pleased, that Draco has endured her nonsense for so long!"
"Mother!" said Pansy indignantly while Narcissa laughed politely.
"I'm only joking, darling, only joking. You make a fine couple."
"And we always knew, didn't we," Narcissa continued. "We could hear you, you know, tip toeing into each other's rooms in the middle of the night on summer holidays."
Pansy's face flushed instantly, but Draco sniggered, and Perpetua laughed loudly.
"When will we be seeing little Malfoys running about, then?" smiled Narcissa and sipped her drink.
Slightly panicked, Pansy glanced at Draco for help. He caught her eye and quickly cleared his throat.
"Leave it out mother."
"Before everyone arrives, I have something for you, Pansy," said Narcissa. Suddenly she brought out a square velvet box.
Pansy raised her eyebrows.
"This belonged to my great-grandmother," said Narcissa, and Pansy couldn't help but to notice that her hand was shaking slightly when she lifted the thick golden necklace out of its velvet box. The dark emeralds glittered in the vague light from the large chandelier above. She held it out carefully in her slender, pale hands, for Pansy to see better.
"It was an engagement gift to her from my great-grandfather's parents. It's been in our family ever since. I wore it on my wedding day." She added the last part with a small smile at Pansy, who swallowed thickly again.
"Oh," she said clumsily. "Thank you."
"Perhaps you can wear it tonight."
"Erm, I…"
"It's beautiful!" Perpetua fussed. "Of course she shall wear it tonight. Draco, would you?"
Narcissa handed the necklace to her son, and Draco turned to Pansy holding the necklace. Their eyes met for a second. There was almost hesitation there. Then he moved closer, and she held up her hair. He studied her as he fastened the necklace around her neck. She knew it must be worth thousands of galleons, and the pressure of it all made her hand shake slightly as she raised her glass to her lips. She wished everyone would stop staring at her.
"You've stood by my son through everything these past few years," Narcissa went on, "and for that Lucius and I are eternally grateful."
Pansy was flooded with guilt because she wasn't sure she deserved this now. How she'd treated Draco of late made her feel ashamed.
She swallowed thickly again and couldn't help but to place her fingers on the heavy necklace. It felt too tight.
Like it was choking her.
There were white peacocks everywhere in the garden of Malfoy manor. The rose bushes from their childhood were once again in bloom. House-Elves were walking around holding trays of champagne flutes for the guests. There was a live jazz band performing, consisting of all vampires.
Pansy observed hers and Draco's mothers for a second. They were stood with the other Pureblood society ladies, all of their school friends' mothers. The other ladies seemed dumpy and slow witted in comparison. Narcissa was grace personified, and Perpetua was entertaining them all loudly. They were opposites but both captivating in their own way. Perpetua was the life of the party, but Narcissa was unattainable, the height of high class society.
Pansy glanced over at Tracey, Queenie, Millicent and Daphne, instead, who was over by the band clinking their champagne glasses and all leaning close so they could hear each other.
Draco, Gregory and Theodore were laughing loudly with the old Slytherin quidditch team, while her father was conversing solemnly with Ministry colleagues. Somehow, in the crowd, she felt all alone.
Until she felt a presence behind her suddenly. "Hello," said a quiet voice that she instantly recognised. A smile appeared on her face and she turned around quickly.
"Found you this," said Blaise and handed her a glass of champagne. "Are you having the time of your life?"
The question was more loaded than Blaise ever could've guessed. But she quickly said, "Yes. Of course. So much fun."
"I have to go," said Blaise. "Just wanted to say goodbye before I left."
Pansy couldn't help but to feel disappointed. She looked up at him and met his eyes. "Do you really have to leave?"
"Unfortunately so. I've got an early meeting in Dublin so I'm getting a very early Portkey. But I couldn't miss this, obviously I had to see what kind of engagement party the king and queen of Slytherin would have."
She rolled her eyes. "We really thought we were, didn't we."
"You were adamant that you were. You insisted we all call you that."
"So embarrassing," she laughed.
"Good thing we all grow up."
She smiled. "I guess."
"See you later, Pans."
"See you later, Blaise."
She enjoyed their embrace more than she should've.
Pansy sighed. "This is the second time Draco."
"So what?" he snapped, and stopped kissing her. They were in bed after everyone had left the engagement party and something was off again. Draco had had way too much to drink and barely spoken to her all night.
"You clearly don't want to," she muttered, feeling her patience run thin. "I don't really want to either…"
"You're so frigid lately, maybe that's the problem."
Shocked, she pulled away from him and exclaimed, "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Maybe there's something wrong with you!" he snarled. She knew he was humiliated and emasculated from not getting an erection, she knew him well. But that was no reason to insult her.
"Fuck you," she spat, and sat up in bed, reaching for her dressing gown. She didn't want to be naked in front of him anymore.
"Don't speak to me like that," he said, grabbing her wrist. "I'm your fiancée."
She pulled her arm out of his grip. "I know you're my fiancée but you don't get to be rude to me."
"You sure you know? Because you've been acting like you forgot."
She turned to glare at him. "Excuse me?"
"Did I stutter?" said Draco, glaring back at her.
"What do you mean I'm acting like I forgot you're my fiancée?"
"You spent more time chatting to Zabini tonight than me."
Pansy scoffed. "You're being ridiculous." But she turned away and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She didn't want to see his face right now.
"I don't appreciate you making me look like an idiot."
"What the hell are you talking about?" she exclaimed, turning back to look at him. "Zabini's your friend."
"The fuck he is," said Draco, and put his boxers back on. "Dropped me as soon as it was clear I was on the losing side of the war." He reached out and grabbed the glass of Fire Whiskey he'd left on his nightstand.
"You don't need another drink Draco," she groaned.
"You're not my mother and I'm an adult. And if you don't stop entertaining him, how about I start talking to other girls."
"How dare you threaten me right now?"
"It's what you expect of me so why should it be any different for you?"
"You will not tell me who I can be friends with."
Draco laughed ostentatiously. "Pfft, friends!" He looked at her scathingly. "Boys aren't friends with girls. There's always an ulterior motive."
Pansy scowled at him. "What about when we were friends? What about Daph, Trace, Queenie, Millie?"
Draco snorted rudely. "They're your friends not mine. And you know as well as I do that you and I were never friends."
"So that's what this relationship is going to be like? Every time you dislike something you're going to force me to stop by threatening to intentionally hurt me? How healthy."
He slammed his glass down on the mahogany bedside table, right next to the coaster so it splashed.
"I see how you've been looking at him!"
She knew Draco was furious with jealousy and in a way it was flattering, or at least she would've thought so a few years ago but now she just found it off putting. "That's it – you're jealous?" she asked incredulously, "Of an old school friend? We've known him since we were kids."
"Boys aren't friends with girls," he repeated, looking at her with a certain disdain. She met his eyes reluctantly.
"This isn't about anything other than you and me, Drake."
"No this is about you flirting with other guys!"
"No I didn't! You're being overly sensitive, about a non-issue…"
He held up a finger in her face. "Don't you dare call me names."
She held up her hands and rolled her eyes. "I called you sensitive, I didn't say you were a fucking wanker."
"Nice, Pans," he said sarcastically, with a disgusted look at her. "You were all over him like a Bowtruckle on Doxy eggs."
"You're delusional."
"And you're a slag."
Smack. She slapped him hard across the face. He stared at her, gulping like a fish out of water, and slowly brought his hand up to clutch his cheek.
Her heart was pounding out of her chest and tears were now forming in her eyes. She half expected him to keep throwing insults at her, in the shock of the worst argument they'd ever had, but the slap seemed to have sobered him up, or perhaps it was seeing her tears.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly. He stared at her and grabbed her arms as she brought them up to cover her face. "I'm sorry," he repeated immediately, but she shook out of his grip and moved away on the bed. She'd never been so insulted by him, or anyone else in her life for that matter. Breathing heavily, she was wiping her tears.
"If that's how you feel about me, I don't want to be with you," she breathed in shock. He kept trying to grab her arms and getting closer to her.
"You know that's not how I feel about you, I'm sorry!"
Trying to control her breathing and uncontrollable tears, she said, "You said it!"
"I'm sorry, Pansy, for fuck's sake, I didn't mean it!"
"How dare you say that to me," she said, feeling like she almost couldn't breathe, and hearing her heartbeat pounding in her eyes.
"How dare you slap me?" he retorted and stopped trying to grab her arms.
"I've never had anyone say anything so horrible to me, not even the Gryffindors at school."
"For Merlin's sake, you know I didn't mean that. I'm just—"
"I can't believe you just called me that. Who are you?"
"I could ask you the same thing! You've not been yourself lately."
"What do you mean?"
"You're cold!" he yelled. "You've been fucking cold to me for months. I don't know what's wrong with you!"
"There's nothing wrong with me! And if that's how you feel than maybe we should just end it all!"
"Maybe we should!"
"You don't mean that."
"I'm so tired of this! I've got enough shit on my plate right now without you acting like this!"
"If I'm an inconvenience in your life then I don't want to be here."
"Then go, Pansy!"
He probably didn't expect her to listen, but the fury at his disrespect bubbled over, and without thinking she got out of bed and grabbed her cloak that was on the chair in the corner.
"You're not actually leaving?" Draco called after her in disbelief and got up too.
With tears streaming down her face, she ran out of Draco's bedroom, ran down the corridor full of faded rugs and portraits of old Malfoys sleeping, ran down the magnificent marble staircase, across the huge entrance hall, out of the heavy doors, and onto the gravel path outside, past the fountain of a dragon, and through the high black gates. He didn't come after her.
The last thing she saw before she Disapparated were white peacocks strutting on the hedges. All the happy memories she'd had here felt tarnished.
She Disapparated to the first place she could think of, hoping she'd be welcome, hoping he'd be he hadn't left for Dublin yet.
Note: please let me know what you think :)