5. PRIDE

July 1996

"I still can't believe the Headmistress is gone. And that Fudge announced that the Dark Lord is back."

"I don't give a fuck," said Draco heatedly, sending her a glare. He would've, if not for the fact that his father had been sent to Azkaban last night. "That four eyed little orphan needs to keep his mouth shut about me and my parents!"

"Yeah."

"At least my parents are alive - he's probably jealous. Where are his parents?"

"Dead," Pansy said, turning a page in Witch Weekly.

"I could have him expelled in minutes if I wanted to, you know how influential my father is with the board!"

"I know. Maybe not anymore though."

"I'll show him what happens when he gets lippy with me."

"What you going to do?"

"Well! I'll…" he paused, pondering this, and then got out through gritted teeth, "I'll get him on the train back to London. Yes. That's it. I'll jump him when his back is turned and his little Bloodtraitor pals aren't there."

"Very brave."

"Shut your mouth."

"Lighten up. I'm only trying to cheer you up."

"My father was sent to Azkaban because of him! That utter bellend! He deserves what's coming to him."

"Whatever you say."

"You're being a cold hearted bitch."

She glared at him. "I'm only trying to get your mind off it! There's nothing you can do now anyway, it's done. All you can hope for is that his solicitor gets him out of this mess. He's not even had a trial yet."

"Potter's a fucking prick," he muttered.

"I know, Drake," she said in a softer tone. She removed the large History of Magic book that contained the magazine from her lap and patted her thigh. Grumpy as a child, he reluctantly lay down with his head on her thighs, crossed his ankles and blew out a frustrated puff of air at his fringe.

She began stroking his hair carefully, looking down at his furious, clenched face.

"At least you've got your mother," she said quietly. "Look at Theodore," she added, motioning towards the weedy boy on the other side of the dark common room. He was hiding behind his books as usual. "He's got no one now his father has been taken to Azkaban."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"At least you have a manor to come home to. And House-Elves to look after you and your mother. And a vault full of gold. What's Nott got? Nothing! He's probably going to have to go and stay with his grandparents. He's basically an orphan. Just like Potty."

"Don't." He glared up at her through her fingers stroking his hair and began rising.

"Sorry. Won't mention him again."

He sunk back into her lap and let her stroke his hair, it always had a soothing effect on him. He allowed her to take care of him in her own way.

A week later Draco's feelings had calmed down slightly. Pansy came back from the lavatory changed into her pink pyjamas and her hair in a ponytail and her makeup taken off, looking uncharacteristically timid and humble.

"What's wrong with you?" he chuckled.

"I haven't got any makeup on."

"So? I've seen you without makeup on thousands of times. I've known you since you were practically a baby."

"Yes but since we started dating! We haven't... you know... slept together before."

He wiggled his eyebrows. "Yes we have."

"Yeah, but we haven't slept together. Like bedtime routine. Brush our teeth. Take my makeup off. Put pyjamas on kind of sleep together. When I stayed in your dorm before we just sort of fell asleep."

"We did last week," he reminded her. "Why, were you worried I wouldn't like you without your makeup on?"

"No!" she protested quickly, rolling her eyes. "Maybe a little."

He smirked. "You do know I've always known what you look like without makeup on. You only started wearing it last year."

She grinned. "Well, a lot can change in a year."

"Indeed," he grinned back. He held out his arms for her. "Last year you were just Pansy. Now you're Pansy."

"What does that even mean?" she giggled and threw herself into his arms.

"You know," he said, smiling despite himself. "Now you're my girl. You used to just be my mate."

"To be honest I don't think we were ever just mates."

"I suppose you're right. Anyway, I like that I get to see you like this."

She met his eyes and smirked back. "The only one."

She straddled him. "I can't believe we're going home tomorrow. I'm going to miss you over the summer," she said, uncharacteristically affectionate.

"Me too," he said. "I don't know what this summer has in store for me."

"The train is the only place we can snog uninterrupted," Pansy went on, not noticing the sudden serious look on Draco's face. "With no parents or teachers watching over us. Let's take advantage of that."

"Everything is going to change now."

They had no idea how right he was.

September 1996

"What was that on the train then?"

They were finally alone after a long day's travel. Except for stroking his hair on the train, she hadn't had nearly enough physical contact with him and was longing for it. She hadn't seen him all summer and there was something different about him.

Draco smirked. "What do you think?"

"What, you're actually working for the Dark Lord then?"

Draco wiggled his eyebrows. "Perhaps."

"I think you're full of shit."

"Oh yeah?"

He pulled up his left sleeve before he had time to think about whether doing so was a good idea or not. She stared down at the black skull and snake inked into his skin with a mixture of shock, fear and awe on her face.

"No... way..."

He smirked slightly, pleased that she was impressed. It was refreshing compared to his mother who had spent the whole summer crying.

"You actually did it?"

"You can't tell anyone. You hear me? I'm serious."

"Do you think I'm stupid? Like I'm going to go blab to Dumbledore?"

"You do love to gossip."

"I'm not an idiot. I know that this is a secret."

"I've got to make up for the mistakes my father has made."

"Is he ok?"

"What do you think?"

"I know... I can't even imagine what Azkaban must be like."

"We went to visit him."

Pansy looked up. There was something dark on his face. "It's... you couldn't even imagine. It's a joke that he's been locked up there with those dirty criminals, and the bloody Dementors. He hasn't even done anything wrong. This is what's wrong with this regime. The bloody Ministry hasn't got a clue what they're doing. Someone needs to step in and sort out this mess."

"Like... The Dark Lord?"

"Yes." Draco was defiant, as if he had to convince her.

"I suppose. Is that what he wants to do then?"

"That is part of his goal, yes."

"So what's this task he's given you then?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Come on, I'm your girlfriend."

"This is bigger than that. No one can know."

"So mysterious."

"I'm serious."

She pouted and put her arms around his neck. "Is this why you barely owled me all summer?"

"Yes. My aunt has been training me. I didn't have any free time."

"Training you in what?"

He shrugged, always torn between wanting to impress her, and needing to keep his secrets. "Bit of duelling. Some Unforgivable Curses. Bit of Occlumency. Bit of Legilimency."

She raised her eyebrows. "Very cool. Can you read my mind now then?"

"I probably could, if I tried."

She giggled. "Don't!"

"What did you do all summer then?"

"We were away a lot. When I was home I spent it with the girls. Tracey got a job at the ice cream shop in Diagon Alley. Her parents insisted. Can you imagine? Having to work like a common House-Elf! Of course, it was good for us because she kept giving us free ice cream until the owner saw."

He was hit by the fact that their lives, their realities, were suddenly very different.

"That bushy haired Mudblood can never keep her mouth shut, can she?" Pansy muttered to Draco at their first Potions lesson in the steamy dungeon the next morning when Granger was overly keen to prove herself to their new professor as usual.

"I've heard enough of her voice for a lifetime," agreed Draco.

"Someone will put an end to people like her soon."

Draco shifted uncomfortably and didn't reply. Pansy took no notice.

"What would you do if you won the Liquid Luck?" she asked.

Draco of course couldn't tell her the truth, so he muttered, "Use it for Quidditch to win the Cup against Gryffindor. You?"

Pansy looked like she struggled with the concept. "I dunno," she shrugged. "I've got money. My boyfriend. Friends. More clothes than I could ever wear. What do I need?"

A hint of jealousy hit him - she had everything she wanted, and no real problems in the world.

"Good for you," he said shortly.

When the Amortentia they were making had finally matured, Draco exclaimed, "For fuck's sake Pansy, I can't even smell the potion because you're wearing what I can only assume is a whole bottle of perfume!"

"What are you talking about, I can't smell her at all—" began Crabbe, and then all the Slytherins' faces lit up in understanding while Pansy began smirking.

All the Slytherins sniggered scornfully as Draco felt his cheeks go warm.

Pansy put her hand on his thigh under the table and whispered, "Draco Malfoy is a romantic, who knew?"

"Shut up."

After Quidditch practice and a quick shower, Draco swaggered into the common room, picked up Pansy like a sack of potatoes and threw her over his shoulder as he ordered, "Come on, let's go shag."

She laughed hysterically, while slapping him. "Draco stop!"

"Don't be naughty. Naughty girls don't get Christmas presents."

Pansy batted her eyelashes at him. "You've got a gift for me already?"

"Actually, scratch that," Draco corrected himself as he threw her down on his bed in the dormitory. "If you're naughty you might get an extra present."

"Oh yeah?" she smirked, starting on his belt. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes," he groaned, as she took him in her mouth.

"Eww, Draco, could've warned me," she said a couple minutes later when he'd come in her mouth. He chuckled.

"Your turn."

He went down on her until she came and then she sauntered back to her own dorm.

Draco's eyes narrowed as he looked around the room. Suddenly he pulled open the drapes to Nott's bed and caught him red handed.

"Were you wanking to the sound of my girlfriend, Nott?" he sneered.

"Fuck off Malfoy. Put a silencing charm on if you don't want us to listen."

Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini erupted in laughter behind their curtains.

"Perverts," Draco muttered, but he was secretly smug of course.

Pansy was less than impressed when he told her at the breakfast table in the Great Hall the next morning however.

"What an absolute piss-take!"

"Can you blame them?"

"Disgusting little boys."

"I'd want to look at you too. I can't stop thinking about last night," he mumbled into her ear. "Can't stop picturing you naked. But that's only for me to see."

She hit his arm and laughed, "Draco, stop."

"Some of us are trying to eat," Queenie said, pretending to vomit.

"I caught Mills watching you once," said Daphne.

"Oh my goodness, you're such a perv!" laughed Pansy.

"Why were you looking," said Daphne.

"How could I not?" Millicent snapped, "you didn't put any silencing charms, you didn't even close your drapes, you idiot."

"My bad," said Pansy.

"I actually agree with Mills," said Tracey. "Something has to be done about this. Some of us are actually trying to learn something at this school."

"Sounds like jealousy to me," said Draco, shrugging, earning himself laughs from Crabbe and Goyle.

"As if," said Tracey, wrinkling her nose at him, "Number Twenty Five."

That drained the smirk off Draco's face.

"If we ranked you girls we'd be in detention until the end of the year," said Draco, glaring at Tracey.

"It's called feminism," smirked Queenie. The girls laughed, while the boys scowled.

Suddenly Crabbe reached out for the piece of parchment that was always residing in Daphne's schoolbag. "How about we show Snape! See how you'd like that!"

Luckily Daphne managed to get it back before he could run off with it and so the crisis was averted.

"What was that on the train then?" asked Daphne when they were crossing the pumpkin patch on the way to Herbology after breakfast, the other girls were twenty feet behind them so they had some privacy. "Blaise told me Draco was bragging about the Dark Lord."

"It's all very hush-hush," said Pansy, looking around quickly. "And you mustn't tell anyone, but it seems as though Draco's been given a task from the Dark Lord."

Daphne was frowning at this, seeming in thought.

"Apparently he's been practicing Unforgivables with his aunt Bellatrix all summer. That's all I know. He won't tell me anything more either."

"Didn't think he'd actually join. Has he really got a Mark then?"

"Yeah," said Pansy.

"Doesn't it worry you?"

Pansy pondered this for a second. "Not really. What could go wrong?"

Daphne stopped and stared at her. "He could go to prison. He could hurt people. He could get hurt."

Pansy paused for a second, taking this in. "I don't know. I can't see any of that happening to my Draco."

Looking back – it was the height of naivety.

December 1996

Pansy's parents were on the board of every big institution in Wizarding Britain, she lived in a huge manor house with her own personal House-Elf and a wardrobe larger than most people's flats. She was living the teenage dream. In her summers she rode horses and planned social events, did tutoring and charity work. During the school year it was all about homework and Prefect duties. Her plan was strict. Hogwarts, university, take over her father's business, marry someone of the same class and produce an heir. It had all been decided. Not that she was decidedly keen on any of it.

Looking out into the thick murky green water outside the barred dormitory window, she realised her life was like a very luxurious prison.

She'd never had it particularly hard, and perhaps that was the problem. She'd been raised around silk, gold, champagne and oysters. As if these things were the most valuable in the world. As if nothing else was of importance. The manor had been full of mirrors with one job only – to remind her of her beauty. Despite just being a child who happened to wear a green and silver tie, she had been branded. Slytherin meant ambitious, Pureblood, aristocrat, sympathiser. Her tie decided that for her. She'd never been allowed to decide who she was or who she wanted to be.

Perpetua slapped her hand. "Pansy, don't lick your lips. Use your napkin. I thought Bumpkin would've taught you that."

Pansy sighed and picked up her napkin. Her mother had come to meet her on a Hogsmeade weekend, presumably because it would be "nice" to see each other – but that had in reality never been on the cards. Instead they had ended up in Madam Puddifoot's over hot drinks, and Pansy was listening to her mother criticising her and ordering her around.

"Is Professor Snape happy with you?"

"Yes of course, mother."

"Your academic achievements are the only thing that will set you apart."

"I know, mother. It's not even an issue."

"We wouldn't want you to receive any P's again like you did in your third year."

"That was three years ago!" She didn't add that just as that exam had come around, Draco had been hurt badly by that crazy animal Hagrid had insisted on introducing them to – needless to say she'd been extremely distracted with worry. Not that she had any idea why she was working so hard in school now – she had no idea what she wanted to do with her life anyway.

"Good," said Perpetua and sipped her tea. "How's Draco?"

"I dunno," Pansy muttered. "He's away a lot."

"Oh?"

"For his… thing… for the Dark Lord."

"Oh yes, of course. Well, you must let him get on with it."

"I am," said Pansy, rolling her eyes. "But it's annoying he's never around anymore. I miss him. I wish he'd tell me what he was up to, but he won't."

"You mustn't ask too many questions."

"Why?"

"Young girls mustn't get involved, you know that my darling."

Not that she wanted to get involved, but her mother's sentiment was annoying her for other reasons. "If boys can do it why can't we?"

"Don't be silly Pansy! Leave it to Draco and your father to deal with the Dark Lord's wishes."

Pansy swallowed her hot chocolate thickly. She felt choked. Stifled. Repressed.

The feeling lingered all through the night and until breakfast the next morning. Draco held her hand walking up to the Great Hall, which was unusually sweet, especially after he'd been so distant lately. She was going to seize her moment and ask him to let her in on what he was doing, or at least spend more time with her. He'd object of course, but she knew how to change his mind. She was the only one that could. After all, the whole of Slytherin house knew he'd claimed her as his equal.

"Babe," she said, "Do you have to go to the Room of Requirement tonight?"

Draco groaned and put his spoon of cereal down to send her a look. "Of course I do."

"It's like you never spend any time with me anymore."

"Not this again."

"Why are you in such a bad mood?" she quickly fired up.

He tutted and reached inside his cloak, pulled out an envelope and threw it at her toast. Frowning, Pansy picked it up and read it. It was from his father with the news that his grandfather had died from Dragon Pox.

"I'm so sorry Drake."

"Another thing on my plate I can't handle," he muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. See you later. I've got to go."

She looked after him, powerless to stop him, powerless to help him in any way.

"He's such a wimp," said Crabbe maliciously, stuffing his face with porridge. "Sissy."

"Shut the fuck up Crabbe!" Pansy yelled. "You have no idea what he's going through, you cretin!"

She bit her lip. She really shouldn't have said that. The words had come out before she could stop herself. Crabbe looked shocked.

Keen to get some more closeness with Draco, she sauntered down the lawn to the Quidditch pitch after dark to catch him coming out of the shower after practice. When the rest of the team had left they hung back and she convinced him to have sex in the changing room.

"Cheers for that," he said when he'd finished without bothering to wait for her to finish too. "That was nice. Even though I don't actually have time."

A familiar feeling of being punched in the gut hit her. She swallowed thickly, suppressing her anxiety. "Thought perhaps it could take your mind off your bad news."

He didn't look at her as he got dressed, his blonde hair still wet from the shower. "Yeah, thanks."

She bit her lip. A multitude of questions twirled around her head – about who she was, about who he was, about what she wanted to do and who she wanted to be, about their future, about their present. She settled on, "What do you want to do when you're older?"

He looked confused, as if he struggled with the concept.

"I only have one future, Pansy."

As he picked up his broom, she trailed after him out of the changing rooms. "What's up with you lately?"

"You don't want to bloody know."

"I do." She took his hand as they walked up towards the castle.

"You know I can't tell you. No one can know."

"Not even me?" she asked quietly.

He turned slowly to meet her gaze. Then, coldly, he said, "No."

She looked away and swallowed, and she fully knew she couldn't hide her pain from him in that moment.

"But Pansy there is one thing you can do for me," he said, although he suddenly looked guilty for doing so.

She turned back to him, cautious but curious. "What?"

"Take care of Prefect patrols for me."

She met his eyes. In his grey, normally cold eyes, she knew. She could see. He knew it was a bold ask, and he probably didn't want to use her, not really. She liked to hope so anyway. But he had to use her. She looked at him in contempt.

"Do I look like a House-Elf to you?" she snarled.

"Please."

Taken aback at the word she rarely heard him use, she said, "That's really what you want from me?" Not love, or sex, she almost added.

"Yes," he said earnestly. "That's what I really need."

She composed herself. "Okay."

They walked in silence back to the dungeons, her mind conflicting with herself about what to think, feel and say, and as she followed him into his dormitory, she felt her selfishness melt away, and for the first time in her life she felt the urge to protect another person. If this is what he needed, she'd give it to him, even if it hurt her. Hopefully it wouldn't last forever. Her heart won over her head. She'd rather fight with him than make love to anyone else, after all.

His body was warmer than hers when they moved close. She put her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. She listened to their on-beat breathing, put her hand on his chest to feel his heart beating, and for a second she was convinced their hearts were also beating at the exact same time.

"I don't want us to drift apart," she whispered.

He kissed the top of her head. "Me neither."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

They shared a kiss. Then he broke it. "Oh, I forgot. I've got your Christmas present. I picked it up last weekend in Hogsmeade when you were with your mum."

He reached over to his nightstand and picked up a small velvet box. Handing it to her, he smiled. It filled her with such warmth she almost felt like everything was back to normal again. Opening it with anticipation, she almost held her breath. A thin emerald clad bracelet lay inside, it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

"Oh, I love it," she mumbled and took it out of its box. Draco helped her put it on.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too!"

She threw herself into his arms and stayed there all night. She beamed with hope. Maybe he hadn't changed that much after all. He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her in for a smooch. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world. All was not lost yet.

September 1998

She stumbled out of the fireplace and rushed upstairs to bed hoping she didn't wake her parents. Exhausted just from thinking about Draco and the argument, as well as the sex with Blaise, she fell asleep instantly. She was awoken by rapid knocking on her bedroom door. She flinched and checked her watch which said 4pm. Bloody hell, had she slept all day?

"Pansy Honoria Parkinson! You will let me in this instant!"

Reluctantly getting out of bed, she quickly grabbed her pink dressing gown and threw it around her. She yawned and ran a hand through her hair as she opened the door to see Perpetua Parkinson scowling at her.

"Is there no privacy in this house?"

"Where have you been?"

"I've been sleeping! Is that forbidden now?"

Perpetua's eyes narrowed. "You're meant to be an adult now. What childish nonsense is this – sleeping in until the early evening."

"Oh bore off." Pansy sat back down on her bed and crossed her arms.

"I didn't raise such a rude girl."

"Yes you did, mother."

"Draco tells me you did not stay at the manor last night."

Pansy snorted defensively. "Why are you talking to him behind my back?"

"Where were you last night?"

"None of your business!"

"As long as you live under my roof it is my business."

"You don't have to know where I am all the time. I'm a grown woman."

"Then start acting like it." Perpetua sent her a cold look. Pansy reluctantly met her mother's eyes. "You ran off in hysterics in the middle of the night to Merlin knows where. This doesn't look good Pansy."

"Why wouldn't you just tell him I came here?!"

"I will not lie to my son in law. Where were you?"

Pansy snorted and avoided her mother's eyes. "Draco and I had an argument if you must know. Your precious son in law said some horrible things to me. Absolutely horrible. So I left. So what."

Perpetua paused for a second and sighed. "Draco loves you. Whatever he said, I'm sure he didn't mean it."

"Why do you always take everyone else's side and not mine?"

"You make it hard to understand you, Pansy! You go from one rabid emotional outburst to the next – frankly it is exhausting. Draco is… sensible."

Pansy glared at her. "Yeah great, thanks. Draco called me a slag, mother."

Perpetua looked shocked. "Why in the world would he use such language?"

"Why are you asking me? Why don't you Floo up Draco and chat about it behind my back as usual?"

"Don't be so silly."

"I'm allowed a reaction, am I not?"

"Well, you must sort it out I say. You are engaged to be married."

"I know," Pansy groaned.

"He will be coming over soon."

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Pansy exclaimed and hid her face behind her hands. "Why do I have no control whatsoever over my own life?"

"Stop being so selfish. Sort it out with Draco."

When her mother had left the room, Pansy leaned back, exhaled deeply and closed her eyes. Too much was happening in a too short space of time. She hadn't processed anything yet. She needed to work on getting through this hangover and the conversation with Draco. She started with a Pepper up Spell, then ordered the House Elf to make her beans on toast in secret (her mother would never approve of such common food), drank litres of water, and had a very hot bath to sweat out the alcohol.

She poured them a Firewhiskey each to take the edge off. She really needed it today to calm her nerves. When Draco stepped through her fireplace, her hair was still wet from her bath and she was physically shaking with nerves. He looked sombre, dressed in all black and with a very serious expression on his pale, pointy face. Their eyes met, and he walked up to her goal oriented. He put his arms around her, and she sunk into his embrace. She felt so guilty seeing him it made her feel physically sick, or perhaps it was the hangover.

"I'm sorry for what I said," he said quietly.

"I'm sorry I left," she mumbled. She handed him one of the glasses.

"I was worried sick over you."

"I was only at Daphne's," she mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

"I assumed so," he said, "But I was still worried. I haven't heard from you all day."

She swallowed thickly. "I just needed some time."

"I don't ever want to argue like that again. Can we just forget it?"

She looked away. "I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"Has anything changed? Do you still think those things?"

"No, of course not. I know you'd never be interested in Zabini. I was just drunk."

"Yeah."

"And I've been stressed lately. Work and dealing with the aftermath of the war has been a lot. Sex hasn't been on my mind, that's why I haven't been able to…"

"It's ok."

He sighed, took off his travelling cloak and went to sit on her bed. She reluctantly joined him.

"Is that everything though?" she asked. "Why you couldn't…"

"Yes," he interrupted, avoiding her eyes. "There's nothing wrong with it."

"I know that - I'm not saying that. I'm just saying maybe the attraction isn't there as much anymore."

He turned to her, eyes suddenly wide. "What are you talking about?"

"Just that maybe we're not as in love anymore?"

He looked visibly annoyed at this. "Of course we are, why would you say that?"

"It's natural," she said quickly. "It fades right? It has to fade. It can't always be like at the start."

"Is that how you feel?" There was blame in his expression and tone.

She looked away. "I don't know. Maybe a little."

"Oh well that's just fucking great!" He gave a humourless laugh and gestured angrily. "My fiancée isn't in love with me anymore then!"

"Of course I love you!" she protested. "I'm giving up my life to marry you!"

He gaped. "Giving up your life? Do you hear yourself?!"

She hesitated, feeling her face go warm. "I just mean... of course I love you Draco. We've always loved each other. We're Hogwarts sweethearts."

He didn't look convinced, and there was more than doubt there, there was hurt too. "Doesn't prove anything. Do you love me now Pansy?"

She hesitated and looked away. "Yes Draco I love you." She knew that she said it without enthusiasm, without believing it herself.

He suddenly grabbed her. "Do you love me Pansy?"

"Yes, but maybe not like that!" she exclaimed, and hid her face in her hands. "I'm sorry Draco."

"For fuck's sake!" He violently threw his glass of Firewhiskey into the fireplace and she screamed.

"I can't fucking believe what I'm hearing, tell me that's not true?"

"I'm sorry Draco!"

"How long have you felt this way and not said anything?! You lying bitch!"

She grabbed his arms, pleading. "Draco, I do love you. I always have!"

"That's not true!" He pulled his arms out of her hands but she grabbed his face.

"I do, I've always loved you. Since we were kids. I just…"

"What?!" he said furiously.

"I don't know, I just feel like there's other things out there I haven't explored yet."

"What do you mean?" he said. "Other blokes?"

"No," she lied. "Just... you know... what if I wanted to move to London."

"We can still be together. Apparating takes a second."

She sighed. "I don't think you want to be with me anymore either. I think we're just comfortable. We're just scared to be without each other."

"Don't tell me what I feel. I'm not the one who wants to end it."

"I didn't say I want to end it."

"Then what the hell are you saying?"

"I don't know, Draco. I just know that we can't purely be together because of what everyone would say if we split up. You're so bloody proud. It's like you care more about what people think than how we actually feel."

"You don't know how I feel," he said, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry." She was fully aware of the fact that she was switching back and forth between irritation and remorse. That was how she for the most part found herself speaking to him nowadays. Her mind a cocktail of potent lust, guilt and self-loathing. This was the worst.

The pull between the deep love for Draco and the insane attraction Blaise caused her to act inconsistently. She knew she'd been sending them both mixed signals.

"Don't," was all he said. She looked at him, conveying all the sadness she felt.

Suddenly, motivated by something she couldn't understand, he moved closer and grabbed her, kissed her passionately. Normally, she'd pull away, make up an excuse, but for some reason she didn't.

This time he had no trouble getting hard. "Look at me," he ordered. His eyes didn't leave hers as he pushed in.

"I love you," she mumbled.

"I love you," he muttered as he moved in and out of her.

They had slow sex that night, it felt different, as if savouring something that wouldn't always be there.

And in the midst of it all, a thought hit her, that this would be the last time they ever had sex. It wasn't planned or strategised, but in that moment, she felt it so deeply that she could feel a lump in her throat and her eyes watering. She just knew that this was the last time. They'd never do this again.

She grabbed his face and kissed him slowly. Stroked his back which she knew she'd never touch again.

She whispered filthy encouragements in his ears as he thrust with finality. Afterwards, they lay sweaty together, naked, in her bed. She knew it was the last time. She just knew.

With tears in her eyes at the hollowness she was experiencing even though he was still right next to her, she remembered something.

"Promise me we'll stay together forever," she had said in sixth year as she was losing him, as she'd been snuggling closer to him.

In the end, she was the one who wouldn't honour that promise.

Pansy's feet were always cold. She used to put them on his legs to mess with him. Draco wondered now if she had figurative cold feet too, and he just needed to warm them up? Convince her, remind her of their love. But Draco Malloy didn't chase anyone.

Indeed.