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Pride	By : ElyBaby Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Pansy Views: 5843 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Pride
- 1
Author's Notes: This is number four of my "The Seven Deadly Sins" series and, unlike the previous three sins, this is brand new. Also, this is the first installment of another series called "The Blossom and the Dragon". Its sequel will appear soon on this website: it's a novel length fan-fiction that follows the lives of Draco and Pansy from where this story left them. I love this pairing so much at the moment and I really hope you'll like this story and its sequel too. This was beta-read by the fantastic Awakened Angel, Jennyyu73 and ImagineYourself64. Reviews are love, remember that!
***

Pride
Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye,

And all my soul, and all my every part;

And for this sin there is no remedy,

It is so grounded inward in my heart.
Shakespeare, Sonnet LXII
***
Draco stared at the letter with a blank expression. Why had she decided to come? He didn’t know. He was certain that she had received his wedding invitation, because she had replied to it, but in her letter she didn’t mention his marriage at all. On the contrary, she had left it out all together. This looked like any other letter she had sent him in the past, as if they were still at Hogwarts, as if nothing had changed between them.
But so much had changed since their last year together in school. Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy couldn’t have been farthest apart than they were at this very moment. Draco was set to marry Astoria Greengrass, the little sister of his former classmate, Daphne. He led everyone to believe that the wedding was not arranged by their families, that they had fallen in love during some undefined time in their lives, and that they had wanted to get married.
Truth was that Draco had talked to Astoria a couple of times back at Hogwarts and he had found her cute, but a bit bland. In Draco’s world, though, these things didn’t matter. She had a title, she was from a rich family and her blood was as pure as the Malfoys’. In fact, the Greengrass family was related to the Malfoys and the Blacks, but incest was not something that the pureblood wizards were unfamiliar with. Au contraire, it had become a necessity when they wanted to keep their blood untainted.
And so there he was. Only a year after the end of the Second Wizarding War and Draco was already engaged to get married to a young girl who had only recently become of age. Did he want to marry her? He decided that he shouldn’t dwell on such matters, that it did him no good. His family had spoken – he had to marry the girl and there was no room for his personal feelings in his life.
Pansy Parkinson, on the other hand, found out that being the very person who had suggested to turn Harry Potter over to Voldemort during the Last Battle did her no good. She was not from a rich family like Draco and Astoria, she was not related to any particular pureblood lineage, and she had no title. Now, she needed to find a job and after being known to be so openly against the Boy-Who-Lived in the post-Lord Voldemort era was as bad as if she had troll blood in her veins. Now, at nineteen, she had no intention of getting married, no career prospect, nor a lot of money, and she had decided to spend her summer at Malfoy Manor.
In her defence, ever since the age of twelve, Pansy had spent each and every single one of her summers at the Manor. Her parents had been delighted to send her there to associate with an ancient family such as the Malfoys. They had probably dreamt of joining their families at some point and moving into the Manor. Now, it was clear that nothing of that sort was going to happen and soon, they had lost their interest in their daughter and in the pureblood family.
Pansy, on the other hand, had not forgotten them. The letter that Draco was clutching in his hands was proof of that. What the young lord couldn’t understand was whether she were coming there out of love or out of spite towards him. Her letter was pretty detached, and she had been careful not to let any emotion shine through her words. All that was certain was that she was coming in two weeks’ time and there wasn't any possibility of him denying her his hospitality. He certainly didn’t want to.
Draco stood up from the chair he had been sitting since he had opened Pansy’s letter. He pulled the heavy curtains and looked out of the window. His father’s study, where he was staying at this very moment, overlooked the grounds and the tall, iron gate. Everything looked still on this hot summer day. Everything looked so far away. This was the house where he was born, this was the house where he would live all his life and where he would eventually die. Astoria would have moved in with him after the wedding and Pansy would only become a sweet memory to cherish in those moments when he was reminded that he did not actually love Astoria Greengrass.
The study door opened, but Draco did not turn away from the tall window. “I have been told that post has arrived,” said Lucius, walking to his desk and sitting down on the chair that Draco had recently vacated. He looked at the envelopes on the table and started to open them one after the other. Judging by the speed with which he was going through them, there was nothing important nor interesting to him in the post that day.
Draco tighten his grip on the curtains. He had to let his father know the news. He sighed, Lucius would have not been happy.
“I got a letter, too, Father,” he finally said. “From Pansy.”
Lucius put down the envelopes and the letter opener, and leaned his elbows on the table and joined his fingers in front of his mouth. “I am listening,” he said icily.
Draco took a deep breath. “She is coming to visit me,” he let out. “She is arriving in two weeks’ time.”
Lucius didn’t speak for a long time. He didn’t even move, the only audible sound being his breathing, deep and calm. “Does she know that you are getting married?”
“She does.”
“So she is not after your wealth and status anymore, is she?”
Lucius’ words sounded cruel and unfair to Draco’s ears. “I don’t think she ever was,” he replied coldly. “It was just her family.”
“She is in love with you, then, I suppose,” he said, as a malicious smile spread on his lips. “What else could her motivations be?”
Draco gritted his teeth. “I don’t think—”
“It’s all very well, Draco,” he said, standing up and turning to look at his son. Draco silently defied him by keeping his eyes on the window. “Your friend can come and stay as long as she wants.”
Draco turned his head towards his father. A quizzical look upon his face. “Can she?” he asked, probably expecting his father to let him know that he was joking. He didn’t. Draco was impressed. Lucius was taking this fairly better than he had expected.
“Indeed,” he continued. “Just remember that you are going to marry Miss Astoria Greengrass and I would not be pleased if you forgot.”
***
According to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Astoria Greengrass ticked all the boxes. She was rich, she was a pureblood, and she had a title. To top that, she had broad hips that acted as an insurance on the heir issue. Her features were beautiful, with long, brown curls framing her face and big, black eyes that looked at the world with a sort of naïveté that made the people around her want to take advantage of her. She also knew how to behave acceptably in a social situation, sitting on a couch with her back unnaturally straightened and her legs gently crossed at her ankles.
That was exactly the way she was sitting in the Malfoy Manor drawing room, soundlessly sipping some tea from a china cup with a coordinated saucer in her hand. The drawing room, despite accommodating the whole Malfoy family and their guest at that very moment, was quiet. Much quieter than it had been during the Second Wizarding War, when the Manor had been used as Headquarters by Voldemort and his fellow Death Eaters.
Narcissa placed her own empty cup on the mahogany coffee table that stood amongst the armchairs, the couch and the unlit fireplace. She looked at Lucius, who was staring blankly into space and turned towards Astoria.
“Your arrival was such an unexpected surprise,” she said, forcing some emotion into her voice. “I hope you had a pleasant journey.”
Astoria twisted her lips into a calculated smile. “It was very pleasant indeed, Mrs Malfoy,” she said, her voice languidly modulated. “Thank you for sending the carriage.”
Narcissa smiled with her lips sealed. Her eyes shifted to Draco. He was sitting on the couch next to his future wife. He had already downed his boiling hot tea in one gulp, and now he had his hands closed into fists on his thighs and his jaw clenched so forcefully his teeth were starting to hurt. He was sitting rigidly a couple of feet from Astoria, his eyes obstinately looking in front of him, his fine hearing focused on every single word that was said in the room.
“And to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?” asked Lucius quietly.
Astoria looked from Narcissa to him. “My parents thought it would be fitting for me to spend time with my future husband.” She looked at Draco, who still didn’t move. “They believe he can teach me the way around the Manor and how to behave properly in your household.”
“That’s very considerate,” said Narcissa.
“Very considerate,” echoed Lucius.
Astoria smiled again without showing her teeth. She appeared unfazed by the fact that Draco had not addressed her in any way at all since her arrival, and she looked untouched when he finally spoke. “How long will you stay?” he asked flatly.
“Draco,” warned Narcissa icily, “she can stay as long as she wants.”
Draco nodded slightly, his grey eyes looking coldly at his mother.
“Draco is worried because his friend is arriving next week,” said Lucius, taking great pleasure in his son’s discomfort at his words.
Narcissa flared her nostrils. She raised her chin imperceptibly and looked bitterly to her husband. “Pansy’s visit is tremendously inconvenient,” she said icily. “I want you to know that it gives me no pleasure.”
Lucius finally looked at her, his eyes piercing through hers. “Nothing does,” he said emphatically.
Narcissa took a deep breath, saving her anger for when she would be alone with her husband. She decided that the best partner in conversation, despite her mechanical answers, was Astoria, so she turned her attention to the girl once again. “Have you found your bedroom to your liking, Miss Greengrass?” she asked formally.
Astoria nodded slightly. “It’s a wonderful room, thank you Mrs Malfoy,” she replied. “I should enjoy my stay here very much.”
Narcissa looked pleased. “I hope so,” she said. She looked at her son. “Draco, be a good host and take her on a tour of the house, will you?”
Draco glanced at his mother. His eyes didn’t betray any emotion. “If it pleases you,” he said dryly.
“Very much,” replied Narcissa.
***
The air was warm, the sun was low over the horizon and the sky was dyed an intense orange colour. Trees were covered in flowers and fruits and birds were chirping in the tallest branches. This bucolic landscape would have inspired even the driest of the minds. But, as they made their way on the grounds that surrounded the Manor, Draco and Astoria seemed untouched by said beauty. They walked next to each other, without touching.
Draco brought along an elaborated cane with a silver snake as a handle in his hand, his tailored dress suit strikingly out of place in the garden.
Astoria walked silently next to him, her short dress showing off her white legs, her curls bouncing around her face. She observed every detail of the park with profuse concentration as if she were trying to memorize the place. She was probably she was already deciding what to change once she became Lady Malfoy.
She stopped to look at a squirrel. “You don’t find me to be a suitable choice for you, do you?” she asked suddenly, her voice flat.
Draco stopped in his tracks, but didn’t turn to look at her. “You couldn’t be more wrong,” he let her know with a distant voice.
“But you don’t like me.”
Draco turned to look at her. “I don’t have to like you,” he explained. “I only have to marry you and produce an heir.”
She looked at him with piercing black eyes. “That’s not the way it works in my family.”
Draco lips twisted in a tight-lip-smile similar to Narcissa’s. “Well, that’s the way it works in mine.”
***
Draco looked expectantly at the nine o’clock train from London. It had only just arrived and the doors were still closed, but he was trying to catch a glimpse of Pansy through the windows. His mother had scolded at him when he had decided to go pick her up himself, especially after they had had to send the carriage to collect Astoria.
Draco did not particularly care about his mother’s tantrum. Or maybe, in his subconscious, he did, and it was out of defiance against his mother that he was there, picking up the girl that she disliked so much.
The train whistled and the doors finally opened. A flood of people descended from the vehicle and walked towards other platforms. Few were going to make Wiltshire their last destination. Amongst these was a girl. Her bony figure was wrapped in Muggle clothes. Her fair skinned legs were visible under her extremely short shorts, a long, oversized top with a painted dragon reached right above the hem of her hot pants. Her straight hair was cut short under her ears and her lively eyes were searching the station for a certain blond haired young man.
Draco didn’t try to draw attention to his position amongst the people. He just stared at her and waited for her to make eye contact. It didn’t take her too long to find his eyes, with the platform emptying quickly of the initial crowd. She walked briskly towards him, her travelling bag bumping against her naked legs. She came to a halt in front of Draco and smiled. The first real smile Draco had seen in months.
“I thought you would have sent the carriage,” she said without even saying hello.
“Well, you got the car,” replied Draco, grabbing the heavy bag from her hand. “Disappointed?”
She followed him out of the station and towards the parking lot. They stopped in front of a shiny, black Rolls Royce Phantom. Draco opened the door for Pansy and she climbed up with a flashing smile. She loved luxury and he knew it.
He climbed in on the driver seat and fastened his seatbelt.
“Since when do you drive?” she asked, caressing the leather dashboard with her manicured hand.
Draco smirked as he started the car. “Hold on,” he said, pushing deeply on the accelerator. The wheels screeched on the asphalt and the car sped through the streets, finding its way out of the village. A couple of Muggles had to jump out of their way to avoid the impact. Draco smirked again.
Once they had left the town for the countryside and the road had become slightly bumpier, Draco slowed down a little. “Why are you here?” he asked as they passed by a group of horse rides.
Pansy looked on with delight as one of the horses took fright of the car and unsaddled its rider. “Tradition,” she replied simply, “it feels stupid to interrupt our habit after seven years, doesn’t it?”
Draco pushed on the accelerator. “Things have changed, Pansy,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Yes,” she replied emphatically, “you are getting married.” She laughed shrilly. “My parents were forlorn when we received your invitation.”
Draco tightened his grip on the wheel. “And you?” he asked quietly.
Pansy raised her chin. “After seven years observing the Malfoys I hadn’t expected you to marry anybody more suitable than a Greengrass.” She paused. “I only wonder why you weren’t made to marry Daphne.”
“She is already engaged. Someone from Scotland,” he replied flatly.
“Someone rich,” piped in Pansy.
Draco turned onto a small, unpaved street and Malfoy Manor appeared in front of them. He sped through the countryside and when he pointed towards the massive wrought-iron gates they slid open in a precise movement, letting the car in without a scratch. He stopped abruptly in front of the main door, raising a wave of gravel from the driveway, then he turned to look at Pansy.
“Why are you here?” he asked again.
She looked at him. “I told you, tradition,” she replied simply.
“No, don’t lie to me,” he said, his voice hard, “don’t start now.”
Pansy curved her lips upwards in a languid smile. “What do you want me to say?” she asked.
“The truth.”
“I just did,” she replied, getting out of the car.
***
Dinner was an awkward business at Malfoy Manor. It was awkward when there were only the three of them present, let alone when they were joined by Draco’s future wife and his former flame.
The only sound heard was the clinking of their cutlery on the plates, and their delicate slurping of alcoholic liquids. Apart from that nobody had started a conversation since the very beginning of the meal.
Draco glanced sideways to Pansy every now and then, but she never returned the looks. She seemed too engrossed in her food and her drink to notice. Narcissa too, was looking anxiously at her, ready to point out any mistake in her way of cutting the meat or bringing the glass to her mouth. Pansy was impeccable though, and that infuriated the woman even more.
Lucius seemed to be deeply focused on a spot on the table, his hands cutting through the tender sirloin with care. Astoria, too, had her eyes fixed on her meal, a plastic smile never left her face. Amongst them, Pansy looked like she was the most at ease, a ridiculous thought since she was the odd one out at that table.
“Are you staying for long, Miss Parkinson?” Astoria’s voice was as cold as the wind on a January night. Her face was a mask of fake politeness.
Pansy raised her witty eyes on the girl on the other side of the table. She could feel Draco’s eyes burning in her skull from the other direction. “Is a month a long stay?” she asked back. “If so, then the answer is yes, Astoria.”
Narcissa delighted in the girl’s first mistake. “You should address her as Miss Greengrass, Pansy,” she hissed, a stem glass in her hand.
Pansy looked at Narcissa with a calm expression upon her face. She was used to her rough ways towards her. “I’m sorry,” she said evenly, “Miss Greengrass.”
Draco put down the cutlery he was holding with force. “It’s ridiculous, Mother,” he barked. “Pansy and I have known Astoria for years at Hogwarts.”
“You’re not at Hogwarts,” bit out Narcissa.
Draco glared at his mother, he opened his mouth to retort, but Pansy beat him to it.
“I’m sure Miss Greengrass won’t find it too offensive if I call her by her first name,” she looked at Astoria with an affable smile. “And you can call me Pansy, you know that, right?”
Astoria’s face darkened for a split second, so quickly that one had to be staring at her closely to notice the change. Then she smiled again, an icy smile. “Of course,” she gracefully conceded.
Lucius swallowed the last bite of his sirloin and put his cutlery together on the plate. “Shall we go through and have a cup of tea before bed?” he asked, standing up without waiting for their replies.
They all followed him into the drawing room, Narcissa and Astoria on the front while Draco grabbed Pansy’s arm and held her back. “Don’t anger my mother,” he whispered to her. “She is not favourably disposed towards you tonight.”
Pansy freed herself from his grip. “Has she ever been?” she asked, walking past him and into the drawing room.
Tea was served by a house-elf and conversation was kept to a minimum. Pansy only spoke when asked to and Draco didn’t even do that. Narcissa spent most of her time scolding at Draco and Pansy for no apparent reason and attacking the girl for everything she did.
“I don’t think we will see your parents at the club next year, Pansy,” she said at some point. “Since the membership cost had risen so much.”
Pansy looked icily at her, but before she could answer with something unforgivable, Lucius stood up. “Shouldn’t we already be in bed, Narcissa?” he asked, offering his wife a hand to help her standing from the armchair.
Narcissa glared at him with her sparkling eyes. “Indeed,” she hissed, taking his hand with force. “And so should you,” she added, looking at her son and the two young ladies as she stood up.
“Leave them be,” said Lucius harshly in a way that seemed more like an order than a suggestion.
Narcissa flared her nostrils, she let go of her husband hand and walked out of the drawing room. Lucius nodded expressionlessly to the youngsters and followed her, closing the doors at his back.
Pansy took a deep breath when they were finally alone. “Your mother becomes more and more lovable every year,” she said to Draco.
He snorted in approval, but Astoria didn’t seem to like the way they were talking about her future mother-in-law. “I think she is a charming lady,” she said with a hint of annoyance.
“Then you hadn’t paid attention,” grumbled Draco.
Pansy crossed her legs and tapped her fingers on the armrests. “You don’t get any points if you speak well of your host with us,” she said evenly.
“Yes, and no points are taken away if you tell the truth,” added Draco, looking at her.
Astoria looked uncomfortably from Pansy to Draco. She seemed much more at ease with adults rather than people around her age. She didn’t say anything though, probably deciding that it was better to keep her mouth shut, as both Draco and Pansy seemed to have too much wit for her own good.
“I think I might be off to bed, too,” said Draco, forcing out a yawn to stress his desire to sleep. “I’m sure you ladies can find your own bedrooms by yourselves, am I correct?”
“Indeed,” replied Pansy, “Astoria and I will have a nice girls’ chat, just like I used to have with her sister back at Hogwarts.”
Draco nodded thoughtfully, slightly disappointed that she hadn’t suggested to go upstairs with him. He bid them goodnight and left the drawing room from the same door that his parents had just used.
“I think I should go to bed too,” said Astoria and for the first time, Pansy could feel a hint of discomfort in her voice.
“What’s the rush, Astoria?” asked Pansy mellifluously. She stood from the armchair and sat on the couch next to the younger girl. “We have so much to tell each other.”
“We do?” asked Astoria suspiciously.
“Of course,” said Pansy, stretching her arms on the back of the couch. “I am dying to know more about your sister’s whereabouts. Who is she marrying again?”
Astoria seemed to relax a little. Her sister, of whom she was particularly fond, was one of her favourite subjects. She was beautiful, she was affectionate, and she was marrying one of the richest wizards of all times. She threw herself into a thorough description of the dress that Daphne would be wearing on her wedding day, the place where the ceremony would take place and other details that didn’t interest Pansy in the least.
“That sounds wicked,” said the older witch with a soft smile. “Do you know anything about your wedding yet?”
Astoria flushed slightly. She, who was always extremely measured in her reactions and expressions, found herself at the mercy of this girl who seemed extremely in control of the situation. “No,” she replied, her voice a little throaty. “I believe Mrs Malfoy will take care of it.”
“And do you want to marry Draco?” she asked, her twinkly eyes steady on her face.
Astoria took a deep breath. “I love him.”
Pansy bit her lip thoughtfully. “That is not a word that you often hear in this house,” she said in a whisper. “But I suppose you know what’s in your heart.” She leaned her head on her hand and batted her eyelashes in a seductive way. “I think it’s time for me to be in bed.” She stood from the couch and looked at Astoria. “Can you find your own room?” she asked.
Astoria nodded and watched as Pansy walked past her and towards the door. “Do you love him?” she asked hurriedly when she heard the door open.
Pansy stood still for a moment. When she spoke again her voice was calm. “Now, I really don’t think that’s any of your business,” she said, faking a sweet tone, as the door closed at her back.
***
Draco sat on his bed, his long, slim feet touching the cold floor of his room. He had been staring at his door for hours, but nothing had happened. On the landing in front of his room, the grandfather clock had chimed three in the morning a good while earlier and Draco was still wide awake, too excited to close his eyes. He had heard someone walking past his room three hours before, followed by someone else, but nobody had stopped at his door to knock.
He was starting to think that nobody would come. If he had to be honest with himself, he knew perfectly well that Astoria would have never come to him like that, in the middle of the night, as if they were doing something illicit. He was glad for that. He wasn’t waiting for her anyway.
Pansy, on the other hand, had had no problems to come to his room and lie down with him in the past. It had been innocent, at first. They had built a fort of cushions and had had a pillow fight and in the morning, Narcissa had found them sleeping side by side in the cutest positions, and even she had to crack a smile at the scene.
Then, almost unexpectedly, she had come to his room one night with totally different intentions. Fresh out of their fifth year at Hogwarts, she had walked to his bed, where he was sitting, and had kissed him without a warning. It was not their first kiss, but that would have been the first time that she had to sneak out of his room in the morning, before his mother found them together, naked, one in the arms of the other.
Draco remembered their first time as if it were burnt into his memory. It had been awkward and he had come only a few seconds after he had pushed into her. She hadn’t come at all, but she had touched herself afterwards, muffling her cries into his chest as he looked, transfixed at her petite body shaking with her orgasm.
They had sex every single night that summer. Their bedrooms were their favourite places, but they didn’t disdain the drawing room and Lucius’ study when they were sure that Narcissa wasn’t around. Lucius was in Azkaban.
The summer after that, she had stayed only for a few days, driven away by her family that did not find Malfoy Manor a safe place during the Second Wizarding War. Draco had clutched at her naked body for a long time the night before she had left and she had done the same. They hadn’t talked, there was nothing to say.
As Draco recalled those events he remembered how she had always been the only person he could turn to, the only one who understood him completely. And now that she wasn’t coming he was starting to feel betrayed and embittered. He thought he had her all figured out, that she was lusting after him like he was doing for her, but he was wrong.
He felt like an idiot for having waited for her for so long. He pushed the bed sheets away and prepared to go to bed, his feet numb. He laid down his head on the soft pillows and jumped up at once as if bitten by an Acromantula. He walked to his door and pushed it open, stepping out, completely naked, into the hallway. He stopped. What was wrong with him? For a brief moment he had considered going to Pansy’s room, but his good sense had the best over his instincts and he walked back to his bedroom, closing the door at his back.
He lay down on the bed again and waited for the much needed sleep to come. He would have confronted her the next day. She would have heard him.
***
Draco was late for breakfast. When he walked into the dining room his father had already left and there were only the three women that were sitting there, spreading marmalade on toasts and sipping tea.
“I don’t suppose you had a good night sleep,” said Narcissa impatiently as she looked at the dark rings around Draco’s eyes.
Draco raised his eyes on Pansy and looked hard at her. “No,” he said, “I didn’t sleep well at all.”
Narcissa looked at Pansy as well, her fingers tightening around the butter knife she was clutching.
“Well, don’t look at me,” said Pansy, noticing Narcissa’s reaction. “I slept like a baby.” She turned her attention to Draco. “Anything the matter?” she asked in her most naïve tone.
Draco clenched his jaw. “No,” he grumbled, pouring himself some tea and grabbing a toast.
“Wonderful,” said Narcissa, decided to cut short the exchange between her son and his friend. “Miss Greengrass had expressed her desire to walk a bit more in the park with you, Draco, this morning.”
“The grass is all wet in the morning,” replied Draco firmly. And a walk in the park with Astoria did not really match his desire to talk to Pansy privately.
“I’m sure a simple drying spell won’t be a problem for my son,” pointed out Narcissa icily.
Draco buttered the toast with a bit more force than it probably required, butter spluttering on the table as he did so. “Pansy can help me,” he proposed nonchalantly.
“I was thinking that Pansy and I could have a little chat together,” said Narcissa, her frosty eyes shifting from her son to the girl.
Draco’s eyes darted towards Pansy, who didn’t seem particularly intimidated by the offer. “With pleasure,” she replied curtly, bringing the cup to her lips.
Breakfast was dragged on forever by Draco, who was unwilling to leave Pansy alone with his mother. He felt that somehow he would have come home to find her gone and since this was probably the last time he would see her he wouldn’t have liked for her to leave without saying goodbye.
“Come Pansy,” said Narcissa, standing up, “let’s leave these two to their morning walk.” She looked at Draco. “As soon as my son has finished his breakfast,” she added coldly, and she walked out of the dining room.
Pansy glanced at Draco before following the blonde witch out.
Draco shoved the last spoonful of porridge into his mouth and stood up. “Let’s go,” he said, swallowing the warm food without care. He pushed the chair back and set off towards the hall and the main door. Astoria’s short steps were following him closely.
“What’s the rush?” she asked, panting to keep up with him. “I was given the understanding that you didn’t want to come anyway.”
“I changed my mind,” said Draco, stepping onto the wet grass and staining his expensive shoes. He came to a halt only when they had reached a stone bench under an ancient oak that seemed older than the house itself.
Astoria sat beside him and tried to catch her breath. “I find this place… enchanting,” she said in a whisper. “It must seem so dull to you, having lived here all your life.”
Draco shook his head and glanced at the house. “I could never find the Manor dull,” he said. “There are rooms that I haven’t even had the time to explore yet.”
Astoria smiled softly and placed her hand tentatively on his knee, but he jerked away under her touch. “Can I ask you something?” she asked. When he didn’t reply she whispered, trying to leave all emotions from her tone, “Do you love Pansy?”
Draco’s fists closed. “I don’t think you should ask such things, Astoria,” he replied darkly.
Astoria shifted on the bench, and Draco felt her move away from him. “No,” she replied softly, “but it would mean so much if you did.”
Draco closed his eyes, taking a sharp breath, and shook his head. “Why?” he asked finally, annoyance in his voice.
“Because it means that maybe one day you’ll love me too,” she replied, something dangerously close to hope in her voice.
Draco stood up. He didn’t have time for such rubbish. He didn’t even look at her, he gave her his back and started to walk towards the Manor. “The walk is over,” he let her know sourly. His steps became more and more rapid and he found himself running the last few feet that divided him from the main door. He bolted the doors open, slid on the polished floor and had to grab a lamp to steady himself.
He sprinted into the drawing room, but found it empty. His mother’s perfume was still lingering, though, and he decided that they had just left the room. He imagined the two women screaming at each other and calling each other names in the process.
His heart sunk. Had Pansy already left? Had his Mother made her pack her bags and kicked her out of their house? Draco should have checked if the carriage were still in the garage or if it were missing. He backed into the hallway, towards the stairs, climbing them two steps at a time. His wet shoes squeaked on the floor. He walked past his bedroom and some other spare rooms that haven’t seen an occupant in years. He came to a halt when he reached the door of the room that his father had assigned to Pansy.
He tried to catch his breath, before bolting the door open. He was unsure as to what to expect, but when he finally walked in, he definitely didn’t think to find Pansy sitting on her bed, her legs stretched in front of her and a book in her lap.
He looked at her with his grey eyes wide. She didn’t appear to be on the brink of leaving, nor did she look upset after the chat with his mother. She had raised her eyes on him the moment he had walked into her room and slammed the door at his back. Startled, probably, since he had not even knocked. She tossed the book aside and swung her legs, kneeling on the bed in front of Draco.
He walked quickly to her and cupped her cheeks, kissing her with passion, once, twice, thrice. She grabbed his wrists and tried to move her head out of his grip. She managed to detach her lips from his enough to speak.
He beat her to it though. “I thought you were gone,” he whispered, resuming the kissing.
“Why…” her words trailed away, swallowed by his mouth. She kissed him back, trailing her tongue on his bottom lip. “Why in Merlin’s name should I have gone?” she asked, panting.
Draco pushed her head back and stared into her eyes. “Because you had a one on one chat with my Mother?” he asked tentatively. “Didn’t she ask you to leave?”
“Of course she did,” replied Pansy, moving her head away from his hands and kissing one of his palms as she did it.
“And you didn’t,” whispered Draco, a mix of fear and awe in his voice.
Pansy smiled. “Do you want me to go?” she asked, licking her lips.
Draco swallowed. He brought his lips to hers and started kissing her again, one of his hands on her neck, the other on her hip. He pushed her against the mattress of the four-poster bed and fell on top of her. “Shut up,” he told her, as he placed soft kisses on her lips. “I waited for you, you know,” he continued, “all night.”
Pansy grabbed his hand, the one that was pinning her head against the mattress and pushed Draco off of her. He rolled on his back and looked at her as she swayed her legs and brought one on each of his sides, riding him. She pinned his hands on either side of his head and looked down at him. Her skirt had inched up her legs and he could feel her pelvis straddling his member through his trousers. He slowly hardened as she writhed on top of him.
She leaned down, her small, pointed breasts pushing against his chest. He could feel her ragged breath next to his ear and every time she exhaled, it tickled him. “You were waiting for me,” she purred. “To do what?” She licked his earlobe and bit it playfully. “Things have changed,” she said, mimicking his voice.
Draco’s eyes widened, his pupils enlarged with lust. “Pansy,” he said, almost painfully. “Don’t…”
She retracted. Her dark eyes staring straight into Draco’s. He looked back at her almost apologetically, and she bit her bottom lip. She let his hands go and sat straight, her centre still pushed against his erection as she waited.
“What are you waiting for? Fuck me,” she bit out when he didn’t move.
He didn’t let her say that twice. He brought his hand on the small of her back and sat up, making her slide down from his lap, easing her down on the bed. He was rough, his erection was already pushing painfully against the material of his trousers and he needed relief. He pushed her skirt up and bobbed it around her waist. He hooked his fingers on her knickers and brought them down along her legs, until they lay discarded on the floor.
His hands went to her top, an oversized item of clothing that left one of her shoulders uncovered. It was tucked into her skirt and he had to pull it out to manage to make it slide up her body. He tossed it on the floor and proceeded to trail kisses on her exposed collarbone. He bit and licked at her smooth skin, moving painfully slow towards her breasts. When he reached one, he pushed the bra aside, discovering the small and perfect peak. He licked her nipple with a deliberately slow movement and felt her body shudder under his ministrations.
“Don’t torture me,” she breathed out. She arched her back, her hands moving to his trousers. She unzipped them and dunked her hands into his underwear. She grabbed his erection and rubbed her hands up and down against it.
Draco threw his head back, a groan escaping his lips. He felt the familiar tingle that preceded his orgasm and brought his hand hastily to her wrists. “Pansy,” he warned her, pushing away her hands roughly. He stood still for a long moment, knelt on the bed between her legs, breathing heavily. He knew he had to wait before he entered her, or either he would have come too soon. He didn’t want to do that again. He was not sixteen anymore. This time he had no excuses – except maybe the long time he had spent with his hand as his only companion – and the embarrassment would have burned in him for days.
He brought his hands to her skirt, grabbed the hem and finally pushed it down her legs. Once he had unfastened her bra and every single article of clothing that she had been wearing was finally on the floor, he had a good look at her naked body. She was exactly as he remembered her. Her pale skin stretched over her ribs, her tiny hips pointy against his hands. She was not beautiful in the true sense of the word, but she had that something that made Draco want to pound into her every time he saw her.
“Draco,” she growled, staring straight at him. “Do I have to get off by myself?”
He glared at her and somehow that helped his situation as it distracted him from his arousal. But when she brought a finger to her mouth and sucked sensually on it, he felt a gush of excitement spreading from his lower abdomen. He watched as she trailed the finger down her breasts, around her nipples, on her stomach and down, down, until it disappeared into her wet folds. He felt his erection push more uncomfortably then before against his clothes. She let out a breathy moan and pushed her finger deeper into her. She closed her eyes and writhed on the bed.
It was only at that moment that Draco noticed that he was still fully clothed and what a nuisance that was. He grabbed his wand from his rear pocket and decided to go for the shortcut. He pointed the wand at himself and murmured, “Evanesco,” his voice coming out as a husky whisper. His clothes disappeared, leaving his sweaty body finally free from any constraints.
He tossed the wand away and hooked his hand behind Pansy’s knee, pushing it against her breasts. She opened her eyes, her finger exiting her folds and resting on her stomach. He grabbed his erection and guided it to her centre. He slid in there with difficulty, and despite her being so wet and well accustomed to his member, her minute constitution made her still incredibly tight around him.
He groaned as he inched almost painfully inside of her. She panted quickly, swallowing her excitement – and pain at the intrusion – instead of crying it out loud. Once he was completely sheltered inside of her he started to pull out almost completely. Before he could exit her, he pushed back in and then out once again. After a few painfully slow strokes, he picked up a steady pace that had Pansy bucking her hips against him in a frantic way.
She brought her hands to his buttocks and pushed him down towards her, trying in vain to keep him buried into her every time he pushed. He was too strong for her and it was only when she came, her muscles contracting around his erection, that he pushed into her with longer and faster thrusts, until he stopped completely. He came with a loud moan and collapsed on top of her.
He could feel his heartbeat and hers as he crushed her petite body under his own. She was breathing raggedly, her hot breath against his skin. He pushed on his hands and exited her, rolling on his back, he lay down next to her. She turned towards him, her small, manicured hand sneaking up on his chest and coming to rest on his muscles. He stretched an arm under her sharp shoulder blades and brought her closer to him.
“Merlin, I missed this,” he admitted in a whisper.
Pansy didn’t say anything, her bony body caged in his embrace.
“Did you miss it?” he asked tentatively.
She played with his skin, pinching softly with her fingers around his nipples. “What? Sex with you?” she piped.
“Yes,” replied Draco, grabbing her naughty hand, “what else?”
She didn’t reply for a long time, all Draco could hear were their breathing and the blood pumping in his ears. “Yes,” she finally conceded. “What else?” she added in an almost inaudible murmur.
***
Lucius walked into his study with the post of the day in his hand. He closed the door at his back and stopped in his track. Draco was sitting in his chair, apparently reading some sort of old, dusty book.
The older wizard walked up to his desk and put down the letters near the tome his son was reading. This was not an unfamiliar sight. Usually, the bigger the volume, the longest Draco wanted to hide in there.
“We need to finally convert one of the rooms into a study for you, Draco,” said Lucius matter-of-factly, “before you take over mine.”
Draco didn’t raise his eyes from the book. “But then Mother would know where to find me,” he replied flatly.
Lucius pushed his lips tightly together, well aware of what was troubling his son. “She doesn’t like Pansy,” said Lucius dryly.
“And she doesn’t hide it,” confirmed Draco.
Lucius looked out of the window, to the park and past it, to the green hills of Wiltshire behind the gates. “She is a resilient little thing,” he added, “Pansy, I mean. You have to give her that.”
Draco smiled softly against his will. “She is,” he agreed.
Some long minutes passed. Nobody spoke. For once, it was nice for them to share a moment of silence without having to listen to Narcissa’s nasty remarks or Astoria’s dull comments.
But when Draco looked up from the book and opened his mouth, Lucius would have rather had to listen to his wife or his future daughter-in-law than his son.
“Am I doing the right thing, Father?” he asked tonelessly.
Lucius’ eyes became two slits. “Yes,” he said icily, “you are marring a suitable young woman. Society will approve, that’s all that matters.”
Draco swallowed. His grey eyes widened and made him look like a little child. “I think I might be—”
“Don’t,” Lucius warned him. “Forget about her. She is not worthy of you.” He grabbed the book from the desk, closed it and put it back in the library from where his son had taken it. “Astoria will make a fitting wife for you.” And with that the conversation was over and Draco knew that he had to leave the study and leave his father to his work.
***
Astoria walked into the drawing room. Her delicate steps made no sound on the antique floor. She came to stand behind Pansy and stopped. She cleared her throat to make her be aware of her presence in the room.
“You certainly have the quietest step ever,” said the raven-haired girl from the couch, without turning her head from the cup of tea that she was holding to her mouth.
Astoria circled the armchair at Pansy’s right and sat on it. “I know,” she said flatly. “It can be useful at times.”
Pansy nodded, putting down the cup of tea on the coffee table. “Like when you want to walk in on your fiancé while he is masturbating on the latest issue of Witch Weekly,” she suggested sweetly.
“Like when you want to walk in on your fiancé when he is having sex with someone else,” Astoria countered icily.
Pansy looked at her with interest. “Someone has been talking to Narcissa, I see,” she said, “I’m sure you make her so happy, finally someone who listens to what she has to say.”
Astoria’s cheeks flushed. “She is a very interesting person,” she defended her future mother-in-law. “You could learn something from her.”
Pansy smiled dryly. “I’ll let her know if I want a lesson on how to make people uncomfortable.”
Astoria crossed her legs at her ankles, her back painfully straight. “She only makes people uncomfortable when they have done something wrong.”
Pansy opened her mouth to reply, but before she could utter a sound, Astoria came closer to her and continued, “I know what you and Draco did,” she said, her voice low, “and I don’t care. Draco will eventually marry me and you will only be one of the many sluts he fucked when he felt lonely.”
Pansy clenched her jaw, she didn’t know Astoria could talk so vulgarly. Her eyes followed the younger witch as she rose gracefully from the armchair, her vintage dress fluttering around her slender figure.
“The only slut,” Pansy called after her.
Astoria stopped in her tracks and turned to look at the back of Pansy’s head. “What?” she asked venomously.
“I am the only slut he fucked when he was lonely,” she said, her voice frosty like the wind of the north. “I’m sorry, did Narcissa forget to tell you?”
***
Lucius had to bend his knees to line up his erection with her folds. He put a hand on the wall next to her face to steady himself and sneaked his other arm around her stomach, pushing her towards him as he pushed up against her centre. He bit down on her bony shoulder to muffle his cry as he entered her. She had to chew on her bottom lip to restrain any sound, her hands trying unsuccessfully to grip the wall against which he had trapped her.
He arched his back and increased his pace. The lewd sounds of their mating echoing in the study. He sneaked a hand down her stomach and pressed his thumb against her clitoris. She arched her back against his chest, her hand going quickly to Lucius’, trying to push it away to buy herself some time before her orgasm. Her effort was futile, his fingers only probed her deeper and she came buckling her bottom against his hips.
He raised his hand from her folds, trailing a wet path on her skin and clothes, and came to a rest on her lower abdomen. The wizard pushed and guided her body against his. He thrust in her a couple more times and finally sheltered himself to the hilt with a long and deep thrust. He came inside of her, his hot seed spurting on her walls, his mouth biting down on her neck to restrain his cry of ecstasy.
When Lucius came down from his orgasm, he panted his hot, wet breathing in her ear. He steadied himself pushing his hand on the wall and, still inside of her, he grabbed her hip. He slid out of her core with ease, a mixture of fluids running down her leg. He stepped back, unsteady on his weak legs, composed himself and zipped up his trousers. He turned and collapsed on an armchair.
“Narcissa knows,” he breathed out, looking at the girl as she slid her knickers back on and straightened her skirt. “That’s the reason why she can’t stand you, Pansy.”
Pansy turned to look at Lucius. “That’s all right,” she said lightly, “I can’t stand her either.” She looked at herself in a mirror and smoothed her hair.
“You know you can’t have him, don’t you?” he asked in a deep voice.
Pansy took a deep breath. “If you mean that I can’t marry him,” she said quietly, “I know.” She examined the mark Lucius had left on her fair skin. A vicious, purple hickey that she would have had to conceal to avoid unnecessary drama. “I can still have him, though.”
Lucius licked his dry lips. “Do you love him?” he asked tonelessly.
Pansy let out a soft snort. “Why is everybody so interested in my feelings?” she asked. She glared into his grey eyes. “Does he love me?” she questioned him. “Do you love me? Do you love Narcissa?” She didn’t wait for him to reply. “I know by now that love is something that the Malfoys are unable to feel.” She stepped towards the man and put her hands on the armrests on each side of him. She bent down and brought her warm lips to his ear. He sneaked a hand on her hip, drawing her towards him, but she resisted him.
“You are all so arrogant. So proud to be born in such a noble household,” she whispered, “until the day your name won’t be worth a thing and your Manor will crumble around you, crushing you to death.” She leaned in and kissed him on his lips, lingering a bit to bite his bottom lip. Again, he pulled her towards him and again she resisted him. She stood up, brushed his legs with hers and walked out of the study without another word.
***
When Draco walked into the dining room, early that morning, he stopped in bewilderment. His mother’s chair was empty and that was the first time he could remember seeing that chair empty at that time of day. She was usually the first one there, the one waiting for everyone else to come down as she sipped her sugarless tea and looked around herself with superiority when someone else joined her.
“Is Mother sick?” asked Draco, taking his place at his father’s right.
Lucius folded the latest issue of the Daily Prophet and grabbed a bite of his toast. “No,” he said flatly, “she had work to do.”
“Work?” asked Draco, and his surprised tone made Pansy smile behind her cup. “I didn’t know she could… work.”
Lucius poured himself some tea. “She seemed very busy.”
Draco buttered his toast. His mother hadn’t worked a single day in her life, unless one counted the unpaid internship she had had as a Death Eater during the Second Wizarding War. So when Lucius had said that she had work to do, Draco had found it hard to believe it.
Lucius pushed the chair back and stood up. Without a word, he walked out of the dining room, leaving the three youngsters behind. As soon as the door closed at his back, Astoria let out a soft giggle.
Draco raised his eyes from his plate to look at Pansy, and the girl glanced back at him with the same puzzled look upon her face. When the younger witch didn’t say anything to explain her hilarity he returned his attention to his breakfast.
“You seem happy today,” he said with a hint of irritation in his voice.
Astoria didn’t look up. “Do I?” she piped.
Pansy put the butter knife on the table and cleaned her lips on the napkin. “Do you know something we don’t?” she asked lightly.
Astoria looked at her, her eyes twinkly with hate. “Even if I did, I don’t think it would be my place to say.”
Draco glared at his future wife. “We don’t like this kind of games here,” he hissed.
“You live for this kind of games,” said Pansy matter-of-factly, surprising Draco as well as Astoria. “But you should know,” she added talking to the girl, “that you are not the only one who knows how to play.”
Astoria smiled. A smile that would have frozen a glass of water. “Probably,” she said, “but I am the only one who knows how to win.”
***
Draco had his eyes shut, his head tilted back. He was grabbing the edge of the bench with force and his knuckles were as white as snow. His legs were parted and all his muscles were tense in a painful way. The only awareness he had, though, was of Pansy’s lips around his erection. She was sucking and gently scraping his sensitive skin with her teeth. She moved her tongue expertly around the tip and brought her hand to cup his balls.
When he felt her small fingers massaging him, he let out a husky moan and, with extreme difficulty, let go of the bench and brought his hand to her head. He grabbed a few locks and pulled her towards him, pushing inside her mouth at the same time. He came with a grunt, biting hard on his tongue to keep from crying out loud. He felt the back of her mouth stretching and knew that she was swallowing.
He opened his eyes only when he was completely spent. He looked down and saw that she was still lapping at him, cleaning his soft member of his mess. She was slightly flushed, her eyes were a bit shinier then before and her hair was a bit wild, but apart from that nobody would have known that she had just sucked him dry.
She moved back and leaned her bottom on her heels. One hand on Draco’s knee, the other cleaning the sides of her mouth. She looked up when Draco put his member back into his pants and zipped up his trousers. Their eyes met and Draco grabbed her hand, pulling her to him.
She sat on his lap and lowered her head to kiss him, letting him taste himself on her. Her arms went around his neck while he hugged her and rested his fingers on her hip. When the kiss lost its intensity she trailed her lips towards his ear and sucked on his lobe, her face hidden against his.
“What do you think she meant?” he breathed out, his voice still hoarse.
“Nothing we didn’t know already,” said Pansy against his ear. She kissed his cheek. “She will marry you and you will live happily ever after,” she chimed, mockingly. “And I won’t,” she added softly.
Draco didn’t reply, but his hands squeezed her little body a little bit tighter.
***
“Queen to B4,” said Astoria as the little, ivory Queen walked her way through the chessboard and reached the designated square. She took out a tiny dagger and pierced through Draco’s bishop. The young man had to take the poor piece out of the game. “Check!” said Astoria delighted as an owl flew by the window.
Draco leaned against the back of the armchair. His eyes fixed on the game. He didn’t like to lose. He enjoyed playing with Pansy because she would never win, but he should have known that Astoria was a good player when she had proposed him to play.
Pansy was sitting on an old armchair near the wall, her slender legs crossed, a book open in her lap. She glanced furtively at the game every now and then, but never commented on their moves.
“You are good,” said Draco without betraying any emotions. “King to D5.” His King walked to the square next to the one where he was standing. He knew that this move was just to take some time before the inevitable checkmate of Astoria.
But the inevitable became evitable when the door of the drawing room opened and Narcissa walked in. Straight like a statue, her quick pace betrayed some sort of excitement. She crossed the room and went to stand right in front of Pansy. She looked down at her, her grey eyes burning in anticipation. Pansy looked up and stared at Narcissa’s face, trying to understand the reasons the old witch might have had to come to her.
“You have post,” said Narcissa, handing a letter to the girl.
Slowly and suspiciously, as if that piece of paper could explode any minute, Pansy took the letter in her hands and registered the fact that it had already been opened. She read her name written on the envelope. On the other side there was the name and address of a well known shop in Knockturn Alley.
She swallowed, she put down the book and took out of the envelope a short message, written in an untidy calligraphy. She read it over and over again. Her eyes weighing every word carefully. She stared at the letter for what seemed ages, and not a single sound could be heard in the drawing room as it seemed that everybody was holding their breath for different reasons.
Draco looked at her, trying to understand if she had received bad or good news, but Pansy’s face was impassive, and the only gesture that betrayed any emotion were her hands, clutching the letter with force. He wanted to ask her what was written on that letter, but he felt like he wouldn’t have liked the answer.
Narcissa brushed a lock of golden hair from her face with a graceful movement of her fingers and smiled maliciously down at the girl. “I hope you don’t mind I took the liberty to write to Mr Borgin, Pansy,” she said icily, “I know you were looking for a job and he owes me a favour.”
Pansy didn’t say anything, keeping her eyes stubbornly on the letter.
“He wants to interview you tomorrow afternoon,” she let her know, “I’ve already spoken to Lucius, the carriage will bring you to the station in the morning. There’s a train to London at eight.”
Draco’s fingers dunked into the armrests. He looked at his mother with pure loathing in his eyes. He clenched his jaw and took a couple of sharp breaths. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Astoria smiling in the cruellest way he had ever seen her doing.
Pansy folded the letter and put it back into the envelope. “Thank you, Narcissa,” she said without emotion. “I think I should go and pack then.”
She stood up, not looking at Draco nor anyone else. Her steps slow and soundless, she opened the door and walked into the hallway, without closing it at her back.
Draco stood up and started to walk behind her.
“Let her go,” thundered his mother icily.
He stopped for a moment, his hand grabbing the handle of the door with force. He seemed to think about it, to consider her order. Then he walked out of the drawing room and banged the door at his back.
***
That summer, except for the night of her arrival, Pansy had always been the one who walked the distance between her room and Draco’s. She was as silent as a cat and he almost never heard her until she opened the door and came to his bed. She left every morning before dawn, and every morning it was more and more difficult for them to part. They both just wanted to grip each other’s body with force until they left small bruises on their fair skin.
That night, for the first time since he had burst into her room, the moment he thought she had left, Draco found himself in his underwear on his way to Pansy’s room. He had waited for her way past the time she usually came to him and still there was no sign of her.
Malfoys didn’t usually go asking for anything, but he wouldn’t have let her go away without saying a proper goodbye. He swallowed hard as he knocked lightly on her door. So lightly, he was afraid that she hadn’t heard it.
“Come in,” came her faint reply from behind the heavy door.
He pushed the door open and walked in. The bedroom was lighted only by a couple of candles. Her travelling bag was open on her bed, her clothes neatly folded next to it. She didn’t look up when he walked in, her back curved on her bed as she packed her things carefully.
“What do you think says ‘I want to be a shop assistant at Borgin and Burkes’ best?” she asked, looking from a white shirt in her left hand to a colourful top in her right.
Draco didn’t reply. He swallowed and found his mouth dry. He walked towards her, grabbed the clothes from her hands and threw them on her bed. He seized her shoulders with his long fingers and made her look at her. “Don’t go,” he said gravely.
Pansy smiled, it wasn’t her usual mischievous smile, it almost had a hint of sadness. “I can’t turn down a job offer,” she replied sensibly. “Not after your mother had gone to such lengths to arrange an interview for me,” she added bitterly.
At the mention of his mother, Draco tightened his grip around her bony shoulders. She had to bit her bottom lip to stifle a moan of discomfort. She hesitantly took a step towards him, he made his hands slide down her back and hugged her tightly.
“Is there anything I can say that will make you stay?” he asked, his chin on her head.
Pansy took a sharp breath, her hand sneaking on his chest and coming to rest near his collarbone. “You know there is,” she murmured shakily.
Draco closed his eyes and breathed her scent. He knew there was. He just couldn’t say it. “I…” his words trailed away, he almost wanted her to kiss him to silence, but she didn’t move, she was petrified, he wasn’t sure she was breathing either. “I can’t,” he said at last, pain in his voice. “I can’t tell you that I want to marry you.” He involuntarily clutched at her body. “I can’t tell you… Astoria… she is…” He didn’t know what to say, had he not been a Malfoy he would have said that Astoria was spiteful, but those were not the words that he spoke. “She is suitable,” he finally let out. “She… she will make a fine wife.” If possible he hugged her even tighter. “I… you… I can’t tell you… I can’t… I just… I just can’t…”
Her hand wormed its way to his mouth, two fingers pressed delicately on his lips, reducing him to silence. “Shut up, Draco, shut up, shut up, shut up,” she chanted, her sharp chin stabbing his chest. “Just for tonight,” she whispered, “just one last time. Pretend that there’s no Astoria.” She pushed away from his chest and looked up at him. His grey eyes were troubled beyond recognition.
Draco nodded and lowered his head to meet her lips. A tender, almost chaste kiss. So different from all their previous kisses, so different from who they were. Or maybe not, maybe that really was who they really were and the only person who could see it was the other one.
Pansy broke the kiss and turned, she stuffed the remaining clothes into the bag and dropped it on the floor, then turned again towards Draco. There was no more tenderness on her face, only a sly smile that promised him a night he would never forget. He smiled back and stepped towards her, he grabbed her face and kissed her roughly, biting down hard on her tongue and her bottom lip. He took a couple of small steps and her legs hit the bed making her fall on the mattress with him on top of her.
She smiled. The pain was only a prelude to the pleasure. This time he didn’t waste time. She was wearing a pair of knickers and a pale green t-shirt, tight around her waist, and before she could understand how, they were gone. He grabbed her tiny ankles and, with a quick movement, rolled her over on her stomach. She let out a strangled cry of surprise and excitement and when she felt his tongue probing at her folds she clutched her fingers in the sheets and raised her head a little. She turned to catch a glimpse of his blond hair behind her bottom.
He had never licked her there. He had made it clear to her the first time she invited him to taste her juices, that was not the Malfoy way. She had wondered more than once if he just couldn’t bear the thought of such an act, or if there actually were a code that forbade the Malfoy men from administrating oral pleasure to their partners. Whatever the answer to that he was breaking all rules now – be them personal or not.
His tongue swirled around her clit, before disappearing between her folds. He licked the tight walls and delighted in the sight of her body writhing under his ministrations.
She moaned out loud, her hand fisting the bed sheets as she tried to worm away from him for the excess of sensations. He grabbed her hips and pushed her towards him once again, this time taking her clit in between his lips and sucking hard on it. She bucked against him and when her back arched to an almost painful angle, her head thrown back, and she let out a loud moan, he knew that she had reached her orgasm.
She fell back down on the bed, her ribs expanding quickly under her rough breathing. He placed a kiss on her bottom, then another one on the small of her back. He found her spine with his tongue and licked it, following the tiny path of bones going up and down under the skin.
She shifted her stomach and slid her hand between her legs, her back bending a little in the process. He watched as her index finger disappeared into her folds and came out coated with her come. He expected her to bring it to her mouth and suck on it, the very thought making his blood pulse fast. She didn’t. As he detached his mouth from her back he looked mesmerized as she silently slid her finger into her rear hole and pushed it past the ring of muscles with difficulty.
Draco’s lips parted as he looked up at her face. She smiled when their eyes met and she licked her lips. “I know you want it,” she breathed out, her finger still moving in her hole.
“I thought you didn’t,” he replied, his mouth so dry his tongue had almost stuck to his palate.
She let out a moan as she pushed a bit deeper. “I changed my mind,” she let him know, her voice throaty.
Draco swallowed. He had had many a dream where he took Pansy from behind, but in their lust-filled nights, she had never let him. He imagined it would have been painful for her and that excited him more than he cared to admit with her.
He hooked his fingers in his underwear and freed his erection. He stroked it slowly with his hand and kneeled on the bed. He swung a leg over her body, knees pushing against her sides. He grasped her hips roughly and made her raise her bottom so as to give him easy access to her.
He guided his erection into her wet folds, slowly and painfully for she was still so tight. This time he pulled out quickly, coating the length of his member with her fluids and lining it up with her rear hole.
She stiffened instinctively, burying her head in the sheets to muffle a cry. He pushed the head of his member past her small ring of muscles and she stayed completely still. His hands went to her hips and he pulled her towards him as he pushed into her.
He went in painfully slow to let her adjust to his size and to allow himself to get used to such a tight confinement. It was almost hurting him how small she was, but he couldn’t even imagine what she was going through. Her right cheek was pushed against the mattress, her eyes were glassy with the overwhelming sensation, she was moaning soundlessly, air knocked out of her lungs.
He stopped edging his way into her and she took a deep breath. A big drop of sweat rolled down his temple and tickled his cheek, he brushed it away with his forearm.
She moved, bringing her left hand to her buttock she spread it a bit to ease his passage into her. Draco brought down his own hand and put it over hers, spreading her arse even wider as with his other hand he pulled her even closer to him. He gritted his teeth and with a final, rough stroke he was sheltered completely into her.
She let out a cry of pain. One hand was pulling at the sheets, the other letting go of her butt cheek and turning upside down to clutch on Draco’s wrist. He freed himself from her grasp and enlaced his fingers with hers. He started to inch out a little bit and then he pushed back in. Then he pulled out a bit more and again, he thrust back into her. Every time he moved it became easier for him to slide into Pansy, her muscles relaxing around him. Every time he pushed into her, he felt her fingers squeezing his hand, her white lips pushed together in a thin line.
He started to pick up a pace. He pulled out quickly and then pushed back in to the hilt. Then again and again, until he felt her bottom raising to meet his thrusts. It didn’t take him long, not as long as he had hoped, she was too tight, too warm, too inviting to resist. He felt the contracting pull of his balls and every muscle of his body stiffened as showered her insides with his warm semen.
When he felt his last drops gushing into her tight hole he dropped on his hands, she let out a moan for the sudden change of position. He pushed on his hands and raised his hips, exiting her in a slow and painful movement. He rolled over and lay down next to her, his chest raising and lowering quickly.
Draco turned to look at Pansy, whose position had not changed since he had climbed off of her. Sweat was plastering her dark hair to her forehead and her lips and complexion were as white as the sheets she was lying on.
He stretched a hand towards her and pulled some locks behind her ear. She stretched her lips in a small smile. He inched his body towards her and she finally managed to move, her head brushing against his chest as his arm sneaked around her body and pushed her towards him.
“That was bloody fantastic,” he said against her head.
Pansy rolled with difficulty on her side and wormed towards him, her breasts pushed against his warm chest. She grabbed his shoulders and clasped her fingers around his muscles. She didn’t reply.
***
When the sun splashed on his face, Draco woke up. He was still in Pansy’s room. He couldn’t have been bothered to go back to his room for the sake of it. He had fallen asleep holding tightly onto Pansy, their legs intertwined. He had woken up in the middle of the night to watch her sleep and listen to her breath. She had woken him up to plead for his touch one more time.
Now his drowsy eyes looked at the place where she should have been and found that part of the bed empty. He stretched a hand where her small body had lain that night and felt her warmth still lingering on the sheets. He rolled over and pushed his hands under her pillow, he dunked his head into it and inhaled her scent.
A letter fell from the cushion onto the mattress. He picked it up and looked at it. He swallowed, unsure about what to do with it. He tried to imagine what she might have written, but despite his mind wandering wildly, he could not picture a message that could suit Pansy.
Finally, his curiosity had the best of him and he opened it. In her tidy characters, she had written only seven words.

I hope you will miss me. – Pansy

He smiled bitterly and closed his eyes, grateful that she wouldn’t have been able to know just how much he would have missed her.

Fin
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Pride