Parkinson Home

Basically, it's Hogsmeade weekend at Hogwarts, but instead of that, Pansy and Draco decided to come hang out at Pansy's house for the weekend. They got here and ran out into the garden (after Leo gave Draco the "I-know-you-have-teenage-boy-hormones-and-probably-have-the-hots-for-my-baby-girl-but-if-you-touch-her-I-will-know" stare) and went out to the Tower, a place they hadn't been since they were eleven. They talked about their days as kids for a while, missing how easy everything was, and eventually they got into a fight smearing mud and dirt on each other. Draco had Pansy pinned to the ground and had smeared a bit of mud on her shoulder, just in time for Pansy's mother, Muffy, to find them.

Of course Pansy was reprimanded, dragged off to the house. She was taken upstairs to the wardrobe of doooooom while Draco sat downstairs talking to Leo. Pansy and her mother shouted a lot, Pansy finally standing up for herself a little, her mother appalled, her father proud, and Draco amused. She snatched away an actually cute black dress and went to change, but her mother told her to shower first before dinner. She headed into the bathroom, but Draco was already there showering and so she talked to him and hurried him along while he did, saying he always did shower like a girl, taking forever. Afterwards, they hung out in his room for a while, waiting on the house elf to finish with his clothes, and Pansy noticed the stars she'd put on his ceiling as a kid, in the shape of the Draco constellation. She stood up on the bed to fix it, and he stared up her skirt, demanding to know what color her underwear was and looking at it by force when she wouldn't say. Green.

They headed down for dinner, where Pansy took the seat that most people would have known would be given to Draco, at her father's left hand. Draco sat to Pansy's left and her mother sat to Leo's right. They talked a little about school, Pansy pointedly avoiding questions about classes she had not been attending, and Draco filled in the silence for her. Muffy started rambling about things no one cares about, but finally gets up for bed, and Pansy and Draco leave a little later, heading up to the parlor where they sit on the couch and talk a while.

They talk about plans for Christmas, and Draco mentions how he got a letter form his father after he and Pansy had fought. Without Pansy to turn to, he didn't have anyone, and he wasn't sure what to do about it. He would be attending a meeting with his father right after Christmas, a Death Eater meeting. Pansy felt guilty that she hadn't been there when he needed her, and they talked a while about it. She tries to get him to see that there must be a way out of it, that he wouldn't have to go to the meeting or be a Death Eater or any of that. She doesn't want them to end up like their parents, and he sees her point. But Draco also knows there is no easy way out, no way out at all for him. He's got to do this.

Eventually they decide to get some shut eye, lying down on the couch together, and that is sort of where these posts begin...



Draco let the maelstrom of emotions wash over him. Despite having no choice this was something he couldn't stop thinking about over and over again. As Pansy pulled him into a hug he slid his arms around her and turned his face to press his lips to her forehead. She was the only person he would ever verbalize these thoughts with, the only one who could really understand. No matter what pressures the others in his year felt they weren't Malfoys. They didn't understand the workings of his family. Pansy did and she knew exactly how he felt. Draco leant back against the high back and arm of the couch, still holding onto Pansy. She was his link to his childhood, his happiness and no matter what they fought about if he ever lost her for good he would be torn apart. This summer without her had been miserable for him. Despite their constant letters he’d missed having her just a floo trip away, missed running around with her and letting loose, disregarding their responsibilities and becoming as close to normal as they could ever be. Together they were just Pansy and Draco, slightly insane and always fun, separate they were Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, heirs to two pureblood dynasties, watched by all of pureblood society. Draco knew just how lucky he was having Pansy in his life, if he’d never met her he dreaded to think what he would have become though he knew. He would have been his father, feared and powerful but so emotionally stunted that he never betrayed what he felt unless it was anger and who had acquaintances but no friends. By now he would have already been formally introduced to the Dark Lord, not because it was proper but because he would have wanted to be.

Tightening his arms around her slightly he ran a hand over her shoulders and felt her warmth against him. This was what made her so special to him. His parents had never been physically warm towards him, nor emotionally but that was different, from an early age he and Pansy had hugged and held hands and even just sat together, shoulders touching. In those weeks without Pansy he'd been devoid of contact. That was probably what had driven him to Astoria, that she was so physically receptive. No matter how emotionally cold his parents had been he had always had people to talk to, it was as though he had spent his life starving for contact and as soon as he could get any he leapt at the opportunity. He hadn't thought of Astoria since she had come up in conversation with Pansy the day before. What he felt towards her was completely different to what he felt for Pansy yet in some twisted way he needed them both. Looking down at the girl resting on his chest he couldn't help but let a sad smile spread across his lips. She knew him so well and always knew exactly what he needed, even if it was something as simple as a hug.

Pansy sighed softly as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her with him as he leaned back into the corner of the couch. She lifted her legs up onto the couch and rested comfortably into his chest. She kept her arms around him, just holding him, knowing that was all she could do for him right now and hoping it was enough to let him know that she was here. She couldn't understand how it was that when he needed her, she was able to just overlook everything that had gone wrong with them, the ways he'd hurt her or disregarded her before, but she tried not to question it. She knew it would happen anyway. She could try and hate him for a little while, but it would never last. She needed him in her life. She turned her face to look up at his, watching the mixture of emotions in his eyes. He looked so lost, confused, frustrated, so many things she wished she could just make go away. She missed the days of their childhood when they could be themselves. They had no responsibilities back then, no one to answer to, and the expectations hanging over their heads right now weren't even blips on their little ten year old radars. But as soon as they got their letters to Hogwarts, things immediately changed in the way their parents looked at them. They were at school now in the company of others who would know their names and their families. Pansy had been given a rundown of rules, expectations, told how she was meant to behave, meant to dress, meant to treat others. Naturally she'd done what she could to make her parents happy and proud of her. Wasn't that what every pureblood child wanted? For their parents to be proud of them? There was so much to live up to, sometimes the stress of it caught up to them. More often Draco than Pansy, as his parents were more harsh with him. She remembered several nights they'd spent sitting together in the common room, just silently holding hands or hugging. Not in a romantic sense, just in a way to be close, to let each other know they were there until the fire died out or they fell asleep.

Pansy hadn't always been in love with Draco, despite how it might seem sometimes. For the longest part of their lives, he'd been Draco her best friend. Draco who she played with and dug up worms with and broke windows with. Fourth year had changed that when they went to the Yule Ball together, and from the moment she saw him that night - no, not seeing him in all his splendor in the dress robes and his hair all perfect, not that moment. The moment after the dance, when they held hands and ran back to the common room, more than ready to escape the company in the great hall and get back to a place for themselves. When she'd gotten back to the empty common room and collapsed onto the couch with him, laughing, his hair all a mess as he tugged his bowtie off, scrunching up the sleeves of his nice white shirt and throwing the robe aside, kicking his shoes off... she remembered it even to this day how he'd looked. He was so casual, carefree, laughing with her like they used to as little kids, the way his silver eyes shone and he'd hugged her goodnight after they'd sat there talking for hours, after everyone else already gone to bed. From that moment, she'd fallen in love with him and done anything she could to bring back that same carefree look in his eyes every chance she got. It had become harder and harder to do over the years, with the mounting pressure from their parents and professors to thank for that. But she'd never stopped trying. She never would stop trying, because like it or not, Pansy knew she loved him no matter what happened between them. These past few weeks had proved that, with the alternating vicious fights and kind moments, all leading into a situation like this one, so terribly sad she could do nothing but hug him, staring up sadly at his eyes that had more dread and foreboding in them than any seventeen year old should ever have to possess. "You alright, Draco?" She asked, though she knew he wasn't.

He didn’t answer her at first because he had no idea what to say. He wasn’t alright at all but at the same time he felt almost numb inside. Reality was finally kicking in and it terrified him. Draco couldn’t understand how everything had changed so quickly. It seemed like yesterday he and Pansy had gotten their letters and left for school, so proud of their families and names. He had been thrilled for the opportunity to finally prove his worth, hoping against all hope that maybe when he got home he would hear the words he’d always dreamt of. “Draco, I am proud of you.” If his father ever said that to him Draco knew that it would be the best moment of his life, no matter what he had to do to earn it. Although he knew that his parents were always impressed with his grades they were never good enough. He might be top of his class in potions and runes but Granger had him beaten in everything else. That was the most shameful thing to him, that a mudblood could beat him. Not only that but that it was a beating that everyone knew about. When she had punched him it had been embarrassing but only Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy ever knew about it. She had healed him when he came back, listened to him rant and rave and supported him while he made wild outlandish plans to get back at Granger. For years Pansy had kept every secret he had confided in her, always been the one person he could trust the most. In the past few weeks Draco had been an awful friend to Pansy, not that he had ever been the friend she was to him. Pansy’s friendship meant the world to Draco but he knew that she had friends she would go to before him, people she would confide in first. The truth was that he didn’t have anyone but her. As close as he seemed to be with Blaise it was nothing compared to his relationship with Pansy. When he and Pansy had fought she was the person he still wanted to talk to about, the one he wanted to go to to sort out how he felt. When he had hurt her he had hated himself for it, hated what he was becoming. That monster inside him was growing larger as he got older, it was what the Dark Lord had always wanted the Malfoys for. They had an obsession with pain, with hurting others. For years Pansy had kept him grounded, never let him get angry enough to truly lose his temper which made it so much worse that she was the person he had unleashed his fury on. That vicious strain within him was what he was most afraid of and by pushing it away for years he had allowed it to grow, to become a true mess within him. Through ignoring his nature he had worsened it and thus done himself and all those around him a disservice. Pansy was close to the most important thing in the world to Draco, the only thing he valued more than her was his family name and pride but even then if it came down to it he wouldn’t be able to make an easy choice. His family name was truly sometimes all that he had, no matter what he was always a Malfoy. He had always used his name to inspire fear, gain respect, get things done his way because that was what he had been taught. It had always felt right and even now that Draco knew it was not the ethical or moral way to do things he couldn’t change. His name was more a part of him than anything else, without it he was worthless and without it he would lose everything. That was why he had to do this, he had to be the man his father wanted.

He knew exactly why his father had chosen now to confront him with this. It was when he knew that Draco was considering his future prospects, what he would do with his life. Despite having no choices it was still something Draco thought of and Lucius knew it. By presenting Draco with the opportunity to learn about the family business and investments this summer then introducing him to the Death Eaters this winter Lucius was snapping the trap shut on Draco. He had noticed how over the past year that when guests had visited the manor for dinner he had always been seated next to the most ardent supporters of the Dark Lord. It had been a slow recruitment process and it had taken Draco some time to catch on to it but now he saw exactly how he had been manipulated for so many years. How his parents had slowly drawn him into their perfect little web of pureblood life. Living such a sheltered life had taken it’s toll on Draco early. From a young age he had socialized almost solely with adults, graduates of Hogwarts. That was most likely why his parents had fostered such a strong relationship with the Parkinsons, to expose Draco to another child his age. From the age of seven Draco could tell when someone was lying to him or holding something back, well anyone but his parents. They were the masters of self control and despite being bitter about it Draco did aspire to be that way. The way they always seemed to have perfect control of everything was an admirable skill and one he wanted to perfect before he entered true society.

Realizing he still hadn’t answered Pansy he looked down at her. “No but that’s not going to change any time soon. The best I can do is accept it, accept my lack of choice over this. If I don’t then all I’ll do is drive myself mad with ‘what if’s and ‘maybe when’s. I’ve lived in a little bubble for years but it’s time to get out of that. No matter what I’ll never have the perfect life I want, I’ll never be able to walk away from all of this. I was born into this and nothing will ever change that. I don’t want to become my father but if I fight this then all that will come is that I’ll become cynical and bitter. If that happens then I’m no better than him. Come Christmas I will see the Dark Lord and pledge obedience, not because it’s what I want but because it’s what I have to do. If I lose the power base that my parents are passing down to me then not only do I disappoint them and all my ancestors but I just prove the rest of society right. There have always been whispers that I don’t live up to my father’s greatness, that I’ll never be the man he is but I intend to prove them wrong and the only way to do that is support the Dark Lord. Within the Death Eaters I’ll have to climb the ranks, surpass all others. Only then can I truly gain the respect I need, I want.” He stared at the fire again. He couldn’t see any choice but this, it was really the only way, not even out but forward. The only thing he could do to retain his family name and pride, his future.

Pansy watched him, wishing she understood the turmoil she knew was going on inside his head. It was that same look he had gotten before after other letters from his father. She'd spent those nights with him in the common room so he wouldn't have to be alone, even while asleep. Many nights he wouldn't sleep at all, just pretending for her sake, but she saw right through it. He would never admit it, but Draco was afraid to sleep on nights like that. He knew what waited for him in his dreams. Pansy had watched him wince, whimper, his sleep plagued with nightmares. She longed to wake him when she saw him like that, to wake him up and wrap her arms around him and tell him it would be okay. But he hated being woken up in the middle of the night, even during a nightmare that he always insisted he wasn't having. All she could do was lie there with him, helpless as usual, only able to watch him suffer his way through it and wish it was her instead. When he was sleeping, if he could manage a night without nightmares, that was the only time his face was peaceful. He didn't scowl in his sleep, his brows weren't pushed together with worry, the corners of his mouth weren't down in a constant state of what seemed like disapproval of the world. Most people took it as him thinking himself higher than them. Only Pansy understood that it was disapproval with what they were born into, what he couldn't get out of. She'd spent far too much time in class trying to think of ways for the two of them to escape, to just run off one day and never look back. But that was ridiculous and somehow she never thought she'd be able to do it, not even for Draco. They'd leave behind their families, their good pureblood names and inheritance, and any chance of making their parents proud that they might not even possess anyway. She tried to figure out if it'd be worth it to run away, find somewhere to start over and be who they wanted to be. She'd always told Draco her dream after graduation was to travel the world, jumping from place to place for the fun of it. She had never admitted to him, or anyone for that matter, that she wanted to take him with her, that it was an attempt to let the two of them escape from the pureblood world they grew up in. She knew it was far fetched and that it would probably never happen, but they were nice daydreams all the same.

She was still looking at him, waiting when he finally answered, his inner struggle for words apparently over. She kept silent, listening to his every word despite the fact that she wanted to cut in and correct him, to try and convince him that there must be something else they could do. But she knew better than that. As much as he hated to be woken up in the middle of the night, he hated to be cut off mid-sentence. Once he finished, she looked away from his face, instead at his shirt where she let her hand rest lightly on his chest, her fingertips feeling his heartbeat through his ribs as he stared at the fire, her head falling back to his shoulder. "There's got to be some other way. There's got to be a way out of it, some other option. Fighting this or not, we're becoming our parents if we stay in this world of purebloods and Death Eaters, Draco. I see how our parents are. I don't want to end up like that. They're not happy, they're never happy, they're too busy worried about appearances and how close they are to the Dark Lord and how much better of a family they are than another." She knew her words were hollow. She knew that there didn't appear to be another way. There was no way out of this as far as she could see, at least not a realistic one. Even if they ran away, they would be found. You couldn't just leave once you were getting involved with this life, and she knew in her heart it was too late for Draco. And if it was too late for Draco, then it was too late for her too. As far as Pansy was concerned, where Draco went, she would too, no questions, no arguments, she would stay by his side as long as he needed her, as long as he would allow her. But the one thing she wouldn't stand would be for him to give in. She wanted to fight this. She wanted a better life than the one their parents led.

Wasn't life hard enough without getting mixed up in a fight that's not even your own? Why couldn't they just go back to their childhood, not the innocence or ignorance, that's impossible to reclaim, they're far too corrupted by now. But the way they fought their own fights as kids, created their own opinions. They weren't on one side or another, they were their own people with their own strong opinions. They didn't fight their parents fights, they didn't fight their professors fights. They worried about themselves. Why couldn't they do that again? Forget the Death Eaters, forget the Order. Why sign up for something they couldn't renounce later? Why fight for something that they didn't start? Pansy couldn't see the logic in it. She couldn't see the point.

"Maybe it's selfish, and maybe it's stupid, but I don't want you to be a Death Eater." She didn't move, just mumbled as she rested against his chest, the stead rise and fall as he breathed in and breathed out. The fire was dying down, the room dimming, but she didn't make a move to brighten it again. Some of the sconces had gone out, and night had settled over the home. It was chillier in the room now, probably because of the shrinking fire, and she moved herself a little closer to his warm body.

"I don't want you to end up like your father, like my father. Our lives could mean more than that. More than fighting someone else's fight. It's not even our battle, Draco. Why get involved when we're not a part of it? Why give up our entire lives for the sake of someone who couldn't care less if we lived or died? I know we were born into it. I know there seems to be no way out of it, but I can't let myself give up. I can't just accept it and go with it. I have to fight it because I have to believe that I have a chance to be something more than who our mothers are. Don't you want to be something more than your father? Don't you want to at least try?" Again, she found herself hoping desperately he would. He had to try. She couldn't let him give in and fall into this lifestyle. It would feel like every thing she had done for him had been a waste, had been for nothing. The nights she spent holding his hand while he lived through nightmares, the mornings she talked to him the whole time during breakfast, trying to take his mind off the letters from his father, the days they'd wandered off and she'd done what she could to make him smile again, to make him relax. It felt like if he gave in and joined what his father was so perfectly setting the trap for, it would all go to waste. And Pansy loved him too much to let that happen.

Draco looked down at Pansy as she spoke, he watched the dying firelight flickering in her eyes. She truly believed what she was saying, that they could get away from it all, free themselves. Draco knew about their parents misery, he knew, they both knew, first hand just how constricting and miserable life like that was. His parents at least seemed to have forged a bond based on a mutual love of prestige and wealth, as far as Draco could tell Pansy’s parents tolerated each other but that was about it. Still, the way he saw it Pansy was lucky. Her father adored her though he didn’t show it very often Pansy knew that he would do anything for her and despite how overbearing and superficial Muffy was she had good intentions. All she wanted for Pansy was a good and stable future and that was more than he could say for his own parents. Pansy had grown up in a home where she was stifled through fancy dresses and silly rules imposed by her mother but at the same time she was the princess of her house and when she behaved she could have anything she wanted. Draco had been born for a single purpose and that was all he would ever be seen for in his parents eyes. They had had him and never had there been thought that he might be a girl. Malfoys never had girls. He was destined to be their heir and to carry on the Malfoy name and that was all he would ever be good for in their eyes. Never had his parents cared enough about him to go looking for him in the gardens like Muffy had the day before. If they had needed him an elf would have been sent to find him and if it had not located him quickly enough it would be punished. That’s how things were in the Malfoy house: obedience or punishment. There were to be no slip-ups, no room for error. Everything had to be perfect the first time around.

Draco remembered when he was six and he had been told to go get dressed for dinner. He had gone up to his room and put on a shirt, slacks and his favourite robe, the black one with the silver thread. When he had come downstairs his parents had stared at him for a moment then his father had grabbed his shoulder and marched him right back upstairs. Draco had not realized that his favourite robes were day robes and not appropriate for dinner. The meal had only been himself and his parents but strict etiquette was to be followed. That night Draco had not been allowed back downstairs for dinner or fed anything at all as a punishment. He had made a mistake and had to face the consequences. He had never told Pansy about that event, too ashamed of himself to ever share. That was the worst quality his parents had instilled in him, that they had taught him, even unintentionally: to be ashamed of himself. Draco always acted as though he was superior to everyone and even in his moments of greatest weakness with Pansy he never voiced the secret thoughts in the back of his mind. He was a failure, no matter how many times he would do something right he would always do something wrong as well. He would always disappoint his parents before they could ever imagine being proud of him.

Looking away from Pansy he leaned his head back to look at the ceiling. He understood what she was saying and he loved that about her, that never ending hope. Draco had lost his hope when that last letter had come from his father. He had been living a dream where he had no more responsibilities, where he could just be Draco and live the life he wanted. That was stupid of him, it would never be that way and he had learnt with that letter to accept it. He knew she wanted him to tell her he would keep trying but he didn’t know if he could. The last thing he wanted to do was to lie to Pansy but he had to, he couldn’t let that last bit of hope in her heart die, if he did then he would truly be no better than their parents.

When Pansy shifted closer to him and murmured that she didn’t want him to be a Death Eater he tightened his arm around her waist and smoothed a hand over her hair, almost dry now from the shower earlier. He knew that she meant every word she was saying, that she believed that there was still a small possibility of them standing up to their parents and stepping away from it all. He knew how much she feared the future, the idea of being like their mothers. He knew that it was her worst nightmare to even be comparable to her mother and he also knew that he would always do whatever was in his power to make sure that never happened. He knew that there was no freedom for him but as long as Pansy ended up with someone she could trust, someone good for her there was hope. A loveless marriage was Draco’s worst nightmare for Pansy, he didn’t care who the guy was, he could live with anyone marrying her as long as she was happy, as long as he respected her, let her be herself. Pansy was born to be married, not as a person but as a trading tool for her parents. They would parade her around all the society parties and show her off to all of their rich friends.

Stroking her hair he looked down at her staring into the fire, “I do want to try Pansy, I want it as badly as I’ve ever wanted anything,” but there was a difference between wanting something and getting or doing it. He wanted to be able to not pick a side, to stand at the front of his family and not have to worry about impressing everyone else, to just have to live up to what he wanted. He knew that he was accepting his fate but he wasn’t going to give in to it. He would accept it and make the best of it he could but he wasn’t about to tell her that. He would keep that hope in her alive for as long as he could.

He had been through every possible nightmare with Pansy, she had stood by him through all the ups and downs of his life and in all honesty she had created most of the ups. She never gave up on him and was always there to give him that extra boost when he didn’t know if he could do it but this time it was too late. This time there was nowhere for an extra boost to go. He was going to join the Death Eaters, it wasn’t his war but his family’s and thus he was duty bound to help in any way he could. No matter what happened Draco would never truly support the Dark Lord, he knew that. That was out of the question, the blind faith that his father held for the dark side was a point of great fear for him but Draco knew he would be a loyal servant and would use his position to it’s full advantage.

As the last of the sconces burned down Draco shifted slightly so that Pansy was nestled into his side, pressed between him and the side of the couch. Still holding onto her he bent his head and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “Thank you Pans,” he could never explain to her exactly what he was thanking her for but he hoped she knew. He hoped she understood that she was what was keeping him going against the pressures of his position, keeping him from caving. No matter what choice he made he hoped she would always be with him, even when she was married and had a family he couldn’t imagine being far from her. Any future husband of Pansy’s would simply have to be accepting of their friendship. That was another reason he wanted the power of the Malfoy family, it was a way to keep them safe. No one would dare mess with a true Malfoy and so in a sense it was a way out, it was a way to safety and to a position where opinions could be formed and everyone else had to listen to them, not the other way around.

From the time that Pansy had realized what her parents intended for her, she had begun to make plans to get out of it, ways to escape and avoid it. Some of them were purely ridiculous, never to be carried out, but not all of them. She had a few she kept in the back of her mind, a few that she hoped one day she might actually be able to follow. Pansy was the only daughter of purebloods. She was born for the sole purpose of the creation of an alliance between her family and another pureblood family. She was born to be married, bluntly put, to the highest bidder. The chances of her being able to choose her own husband seemed slim to none, she'd learned that from the first time she was taken to a party with her parents. Her mother had forced her into an awful dress, something pink and ruffly that eight year old Pansy couldn't help but scowl at. She'd been introduced to countless families, expected to curtsy and say all the nice things her mother had taught her, but especially to make nice with their children, who always happened to be sons. Usually stuck up, arrogant little snotrags, they knew why they were being introduced to her, and even at eight these families had started to appraise her, look her over carefully and watch her for flaws or slip ups, which, though she tried for her parents sake to be as good as she could, it wasn't in her nature to achieve perfection. She would say something rude to their dunderhead son, and she'd end up dragged away by her mother to be given quite the talking to. She never did learn her lesson. Though she lived in fear of her mother and typically did anything she could to appease her, Pansy wouldn't be fake with people. If she didn't like someone, she wasn't going to play nice and risk getting stuck with them again. She'd found a way around the system, even if it was a tiny way, even if it earned her a punishment every time it happened, it worked. She never had to speak with those particular boys again. So in a way, she'd found a technique of influencing her parents options for her future husband, and she used it to her full advantage. She didn't want to end up like her parents, a marriage with no obvious love. The tolerated each other well enough, but it was nothing more than an alliance marriage, a way that her mothers family was able to solidify their credibility by marrying their daughter off to a well to do pureblood son of a respectable name. She wanted more than that, though she knew it was probably a pointless hope to wish for a marriage out of love. That rarely happened for girls like her.

She knew her parents liked Draco, and honestly hoped that maybe they would be attempting to arrange something with the Malfoys, but she was also rather sure that Draco's father had never liked her. He saw her as a bad influence on his son, a girl too reckless in the world of purebloods to be any good for his son who was supposed to have so much potential. Maybe the way Lucius looked at Draco all the time as if he were sad, maybe it was her fault. She sincerely hoped not, but it seemed all too likely. Pansy had told Scorp once that she wouldn't mind if she had to get married to Draco. She played if off as if it were something he parents were pushing her toward, not something that she was actually dreaming of. Of course he'd seen right through it. Pansy found it hard to lie about her feelings for Draco. She'd written in the back of her potions book once: Pansy Delia Malfoy, just to see what it would look like. Too embarrassed of acting like a thirteen year old girl smitten with a crush of the week, she'd scribbled it out, and not a moment too soon. Draco saw her scribbling and asked what she was writing. She wouldn't tell him. She never would.

Her parents weren't all bad. Well, her mother was mostly horrible, obsessed with dressing Pansy up as if she were her own personal life size doll, but her father wasn't bad at all. They had a quiet sort of relationship, sharing smirks over her mother's ridiculous behavior. He'd started to teach her some dueling once, the summer after third year. They had started with the basics, just expelliarmus, stupefy, and protego, but she'd learned them quickly and worked to master them perfectly. Her mother had put a stop to it before the lessons progressed, believing that it was not the place of a pureblood daughter to be dueling, and that Leo would not continue to teach her such things. That was where her studies had stopped, and she'd gone back to astronomy, a mother-approved topic of study. She wanted to talk to her dad tomorrow about her recent decision to start studying dueling again. Though her mother would definitely not approve, she thought it would make her dad proud to know she'd taken it up again. He had always told her to be independent and make her own choices, to stand up for herself if there was something worth believing in. Pansy supposed this was why she was such a Daddy's girl and why she and her mother got into so many fights. She preferred that Pansy was a yes ma'am, no ma'am sort of girl, listening attentively and following orders immediately, doing what was expected of her, nothing more and nothing less. These extra dreams and plans Pansy had, they had no room in the life Muffy had plotted out for her daughter, and Pansy resented her for it.

As his hand smoothed over her hair and he said he wanted to try, she wanted to believe him. She wanted to hope that he would truly give it a shot and try to escape what they were falling into, but she knew better than to trust his words so blindly. She'd known him for most of her life after all, and she knew when he was not into what he was saying wholeheartedly. He wasn't lying, he probably did want to try, but he also knew the realism of the situation. He knew that it wasn't likely that he could escape this fate no matter what they tried. They were too old now, it was getting too late. They were in their last year at school and things were changing quickly, the real world was closing in and their parents were starting to put the plans they had been concocting over the last seventeen years into place, starting to set the trap they had spent the whole of Pansy and Draco's young lives building for them.

"Of course, Draco." She wasn't entirely sure what she was being thanked for, she was just glad to hear it, glad to know she was doing something at least that was affecting him and hopefully making him feel a little better. She laid close to him, sharing the warmth between their bodies as she rested against his chest. Pansy glanced up at his face, unable to hide the worry in her eyes, though she gave it a valiant effort. "Will you try and get some sleep now? And don't just pretend, for my sake. I know when you're not really sleeping." She smiled a little at him, tightening her arm across his chest. She could tell when he wasn't sleeping. His face still had the stress it did when he was awake. Only when he was sleeping did he relax. And it was only once she was satisfied that he was okay that she would be able to sleep. Nights like this had happened all too often, and she knew how it usually went. She'd tell him to get some rest, and he would close his eyes, pretending to sleep so that she would. In return, she would pretend to sleep until his breathing became regular, relaxed, and she would peek her eyes open to make sure he was actually sleeping. Only then could she fall asleep, but at the first noise from him she was awake again, struggling not to wake him and comfort him, tell him it was going to be okay. That was another thing she knew he hated, though he'd never said it. He hated being told everything was going to be okay. They both knew better than that. It was never so simple as everything working out in the end, not for them. Pansy closed her eyes, knowing he was waiting for her to fall asleep first. She let her mind wander aimlessly for a while, waiting for the rise and fall of his chest to become regular once again.

Draco gave her a weak smile when she told him to get some sleep, it was the last thing he wanted to do. What would come in his sleep was worse than anything he could think of with his eyes open. Crossing his arm around and over hers, he pressed in slightly, giving her a weak hug. “Sure Pansy, you sleep too,” He moved his hand from the back of her head to run over her back, “Sweet dreams.” It was what he’d always said to her, from when they had been little children having a sleepover. Closing his eyes his fingers traced slow circles on her back, feeling her breathing even out and slow. He blinked his eyes back open a couple of times, watching the fire die away. Shifting he moved Pansy slightly so she was a little more on top of him, giving him some more space on the sofa. Slowly the darkness and the warmth of Pansy against him started to beat him down. As hard as Draco fought it he couldn’t stop himself from slipping into sleep, sliding away from the comforts of his twisted life and into the recesses of his subconscious.

He was standing in a large room, vaulted ceilings made of a deep black stone. All around him he could hear rustling but not see anyone. The room wasn’t dark, quite to the contrary he was bathed in a pale light that had no source. Looking around he found no doors, no way out but at the same time no way in. The whole room seemed to be carved from one immense piece of blackness. Before he had the chance to notice anymore of the room a sound echoed through, it was not a scream but that was the closest noise he could relate it to. Piercing through the room it seemed to echo around him, assaulting him from every way. Slowly other sounds joined the echoes that seemed to endlessly reverberate around him. The sounds never got quieter, they simply bounced past him. As he stood there he slowly turned, waiting for movement, to see someone or something else. All of a sudden all the sound stopped dead.

A feeling washed over Draco and he slowly turned around. There stood his father, tall and powerful. He was wearing those black robes, the ones with the velvet trim around the cuffs. Draco remembered the last time he had seen those robes and had to stop himself from taking a step backwards. He had been four and made a stupid mistake. To this day he couldn’t remember what he had done, all he could remember was the searing pain as the cane had hit the back of his thighs, choking back the sobs that he had wanted to let free. Even as a child that young he had known not to make a sound. There was a safety in silence that Draco had always appreciated.

As his father approached Draco could hear the click of his cane on the floor but Lucius’ hands were empty. Looking around he tried to find the source of the noise, that clicking that caused almost imperceptible tremors to run through him. On the sofa Draco’s arm tightened around Pansy’s waist and his body shook then dropped back into a corpse-like stillness. No sounds had come from his mouth. No matter what that reverberated through him, even when he was asleep he remembered the pain, the marks that had lingered for over a week.

As his father took another step towards him Draco took a step back but suddenly there was something there, blocking him. Turning around he saw black fabric and then that was it. Someone had grabbed his arms and there was a blindfold tied around his eyes. Draco felt the blow coming before it hit, a whack to the back of his knees and he was down. Kneeling he could sense figures standing around him, moving closer and closer. He held as still as he could, tightening every muscle in preparation for the blows he was sure would come. Minutes passed and all he knew was that they stood there watching, waiting. An uncontrollable shudder wracked his body and it was as though that was signal they had been waiting for. All of a sudden all the people stepped back and away from him as one. It was one foot fall after another, all in sync. Draco wanted to try to turn his head, to see if he could get this blindfold off, but he didn’t know who it was around him. Suddenly there was sound again: a whistle of wind, he felt it ghost past him, the ties of the blindfold lifting off his neck momentarily. The breeze changed, slowly it started to circle him and the whistling became words. “Beaten or broken. Which are you? Welcome Young Malfoy.” He didn’t know the voice but it drove straight into his core and wrapped itself around him. Slowly the voice cut off his thoughts then his breath and he slowly felt his heart tightening. Nothing was holding him upright now but the breeze and those words, still swirling and never changing, punctuating the fog around his mind. He felt his body seize up and collapse on itself and all of a sudden the wind, the blindfold and the restraints vanished.

“Broken Mr. Malfoy. Pity, I had expected more of you.” The voice got through to him and slowly he moved himself, pushing himself back up. Looking up he saw them. Those red eyes burning into him, searing through him and sorting through every corner of his soul before shoving it back at him as if to prove its worthlessness. Draco pushed himself up to his feet and braced himself, looking down to the ground again rather than meeting those ruby orbs. He was shaken by the power that radiated from the figure in front of him, he could feel the magic pulsing within the room. Small sparks shot at him, testing to see if he would flinch or back down. Draco did his best to not react, to remain stoic but it was too hard. Every shot at his fingers made them twitch, flick away from the burning sparks. Draco’s whole body convulsed and his face twisted up in pain, it was as though knives were being pressed against each of his internal organs, hot embers pressed to every inch of his skin. Low whines and whimpers escaped his mouth now and he subconsciously bit down on his lip to try to stop the noises from escaping his mouth.

When the sparking stopped he stood his ground, looking down with his hands clasped behind his back. He daren’t look around to see who else was in the room, the last thing he wanted was to incur a true punishment from the Dark Lord. Now that Voldemort had stopped speaking the room was eerily silent. Stepping up to Draco, Voldemort took one of his bony fingers and traced it down his cheek. Draco did his best not to shift away and it seemed for a moment that he’s gotten away, that Voldemort had not noticed the miniscule shiver that had run through him. Then Voldemort looked past him, “Lucius,” he shook his head, “you have disappointed me. I expected more.” From behind him Draco heard steps drawing closer to him. “So did I.” His father’s voice crashed over him, those words hurt more than anything else ever possibly could. From behind him Draco felt and heard the clack of the cane on the floor before it hit him.

Draco jerked awake, lunging into a sitting position, breathing heavily. He stared around, trying to sort out where he was then Pansy shifted against him, trying to calm him and instinctively he clutched her to him, his arms tightening around her. As he tried to regain his breath he held onto her as though she was his only connection to the present, the only thing keeping him from returning to that chamber and the pain that awaited him there. In the dark room he felt lost, alone, but with Pansy he knew that there was someone there to help him chase away he demons. Slowly as he came to his senses and realized where he was his loosened his grip on her and dropped his arms. Closing up into himself he shifted and sat on the sofa, staring at the glowing coals of the fire. He couldn’t have slept for long but it had been too long. Draco felt Pansy shift next to him and he knew she wanted to ask what his nightmare had been about, wanted to offer him a chance to talk, a hug. Still, all that he knew right now was that no matter what he had to make his father proud in front of the Dark Lord, even if it meant hurting others along the way. Without him realizing it Draco’s shoulders had tensed up and he was sitting up straighter than before, his fingers of one hand digging into his leg, the other hand resting on the arm of the sofa. Facing up to his future Draco could no longer see a choice, no matter what Pansy had said earlier. For him it was all planned out, all set. He was going to be a Death Eater, he would become head of the Malfoy family. There were no two ways about it, there was only the choice for him to make. Should he sacrifice his personal ideals for family pride and power or stand by his guns and risk everything. There wasn’t honestly much of a choice there despite what Draco knew Pansy would say. Come graduation, Draco would most likely have a serpentine tattoo upon his arm.

Pansy laid there with her eyes closed, waiting for him to fall asleep. She was still smiling from him wishing her sweet dreams, something he'd done whenever he told her good night ever since they were kids. It was one of the few familiar things that had lasted over the years when so much else had changed and been forgotten once they'd grown up a little. She probably could have fallen asleep right away with his hand drawing light circles on her back. As he moved her a little, reclaiming more of the cushions for himself and situating her more on top of him instead, she continued to pretend to be asleep for his sake. Finally, his breathing steadied and his hand on her back was still. She blinked her eyes open and looked up at him, his face a little more peaceful now. Satisfied that he was sleeping and not just lying there pretending, with the warmth of his arm around her and his body nestled up to hers, she closed her eyes and let herself drift off.

She was startled awake a little while later as he jerked, his arm squeezing her to him as he trembled for a moment. She opened her eyes quickly and glanced at his face. She could see the movement of his eyes behind his eyelids. It was happening again, a nightmare, and as much as Pansy wanted to wake him, she knew better. No matter how terrible the nightmares might be, he hated when she woke him up in the night. All she could do was lie there and watch him, wishing she could make it go away. He seemed to calm down a little, and Pansy sighed softly, hoping maybe it was only a quick one, that it was over and they could sleep peacefully again. No such luck. He was soon shaking, his face wincing as if he were in pain, whimpers punctuating his expressions. She lifted her hand to his face, resting it there gently as her thumb stroked his cheek and she could only watch him. It was hard if not nearly impossible to just leave him like this, sleeping, suffering through whatever nightmare he was having. He would never tell her, he never had before and she figured he probably never would. What terrors he experienced in his sleep were a secret to Pansy, and all she could do was trace her fingers across his cheek as he fought through them. After one particularly distressing sob, Pansy nearly gave in to the idea of waking him. "Oh, Draco." She whispered, still watching him intently, her heart breaking for him every second it lasted.

She'd seen him like this too many times, each one of them etched separately in her mind forever. One night it had been so bad he'd woken himself up crying, and he'd buried his face in Pansy's shoulder, his shoulders shaking until he fell asleep again, her arms wrapped tight around him. Pansy had never told a soul about it, and had never even mentioned it to Draco. They were perfectly fine to pretend it had never happened, and it was a night she would take with her to the grave if that's what he wanted. She'd do anything for the boy, and everyone who knew Pansy understood the unconditional and sometimes illogical love she held for him.

And suddenly he was up, sitting, depositing Pansy to the side in his quick movement, somewhat pinned between him and the back of the couch. She moved as quickly as she could, sitting up after him. "Draco, Draco, it's okay." She reached forward, resting her hand on his cheek as he glanced quickly around the room, pulling his face to look at her, his eyes finally landing on hers. In a flash, she was wrapped up in his arms again, and she quickly did the same to him, hugging her arms around him as tightly as she could manage, one of her hands smoothing down the hair on the back of his head in a comforting sort of way. She held him close until he calmed down and released his grip on her. She let go of him, allowing him to move away for a moment, but she turned on the couch, pulling her knees up to her chest as she looked at him. Realizing she was still in her skirt, she put her knees back down and scooted over to sit beside him, though she supposed him seeing her underwear again really didn't matter in a moment like this. She watched him, desperate to ask him about it, but she knew it'd do no good. He'd never tell her. She had nearly decided on putting her head on his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his neck and stroking the back of his head gently, but then she noticed the change in his body language. He was sitting up, his fingers digging roughly into his knee. Now she wasn't so sure what to do.

She'd seen that posture before, that grip, that expression. Both their fathers had worn it on several occasions. She rested her hand lightly on his arm. His left arm, still bare, still perfect, and Pansy hoped desperately she would never see the day where it bore the mark of the skull and serpent. That would break her heart far more than anything else he could do. She didn't care if he stayed with Astoria for the rest of his life. She didn't care if she had to have him mad at her for an unknown amount of time. None of that mattered so long as he was free. None of it mattered as long as he was still just Draco, as long as his arm was bare and he had pledged no allegiance. Because then he still had his life in his own hands and could make his own decisions. Pansy couldn't bear to think of what the Dark Lord would plan for him. She wouldn't allow herself to think on that, it was too terrifying, to horrible. She and Draco had always been some kind of in between, people who didn't fit anywhere perfectly. Too good to be evil, too evil to be good. But when that's your life, where do you go? You're too cruel for the 'good guys' to like you, to let you in. They judge you automatically, not caring who you are just because of who your parents are, what your name is, the colors on your school tie. And yet they were too good to be evil, had too many dreams for themselves to forfeit their lives to fight for something stupid that didn't even involve them, at least not directly. And though Draco had promised that he would try to find a way out of it, though he had just told her he had no interest in becoming a Death Eater despite the fact that it was the life his father had planned for him, Pansy worried he was already reconsidering things. Was his nightmare truly so potent to change his mind about it? Had he really believed what he'd told her in the first place? Pansy tightened her fingers around his arm slightly, leaning forward a bit to look at him. "Draco?"

Draco felt Pansy squeeze his arm. Turning he looked at her in the dim light, “I’m here Pans.” He moved his other hand to cover hers on his forearm. His breathing slowly steadied but still he could feel his heart racing, it had felt so real. Looking around the room he thought back on the conversation that had prompted this dream. All of the pressures in life life were coming to a head ad once and he was not handling them as a Malfoy should. He should show no reaction, he should be able to control his dreams. That was what was expected of him and even these small lapses in his Malfoy decorum upset him. Rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand he looked back at the fire and relaxed slightly, knowing she was still watching him. Leaning his head back he took a deep shaking breath and moved his hand to hold hers, their shoulders pressing into each other. Voldemort’s words in the dream rang in his ears, “Beaten or broken. Which are you?” He knew he needed to change, to finally accept his fate, but looking down at Pansy next to him that resolve weakened. No matter what she always had hope in him, always wanted the best.

Shifting slightly Draco moved to the edge of the sofa, “Can we go upstairs? I’d rather get out of here now.” He knew that if he went back to sleep on the sofa he would have that dream again, he would slip right back into the nightmare. Honestly he didn’t plan on letting himself slip back into that nightmare, he didn’t even plan on sleeping tonight but he knew he would and Pansy needed to as well. Pansy nodded and murmured an affirmative. Slowly Draco stood up, his body stiff from the tremors. As he stood Pansy was right by his side, ready in case he needed anything. He released her hand and slipped his arm around her shoulders and hers wrapped around his waist. As they slowly left the room Draco looked back at the sofa, another place ruined. Another place he would not be able to go without remembering. During the summers Draco spent most of the time sleeping in different rooms around the manor, trying to find a place with no ghosts, nothing to keep him up. Inevitably he had failed, the turmoil had permeated every room of the vast manor and he could no longer hide. The only room that always had a soothing effect on him was Pansy’s. Done in pale blues and greens it had a healing effect on him and he loved it when she stayed and he could spend his time in there, forgetting his demons.

As they walked up the stairs he gripped the railing for balance, still unsteady from the night tremors. Pansy noticed, as he had known she would, and tightened her grip around him. They both knew that if he fell he would just take her down with him but no matter the small movement was uplifting, even after the traumatic events of the evening. As they reached the doors to their rooms Draco let go of Pansy, “Will you?” He didn’t even have to ask, she slipped away to go change out of the dress as he headed into the bathroom.

Looking into the mirror Draco saw a tall boy. He was blond with angular features, a set to his jaw and ice blue eyes that currently held a resolute, scared and desolate light. He saw what everyone else saw, he saw a Malfoy. Draco went to the bathroom then walked over to the sink. Flicking on the cold tap he washed his hands off, watching the water and soap swirl down the drain. Each little droplet following the other, all controlled by a higher force, all expected to keep going and not to stop, not to change direction. He put his hands under the water and splashed some up onto his face, taking away some of the sweat and clearing his head slightly.

As he walked back out Pansy was sitting cross-legged on his bed in a pair of his old sweats and a t-shirt. He smiled slightly at her ensemble, remembering the awful frilly things that Muffy bought for her. He’d given her the sweats when they’d gotten too small for him and she’d wanted out of the pink kitten pajamas. The t-shirt was one of his but he didn’t remember giving it to her. Oh well, he must have at some point. Walking over to his drawers he pulled off his shirt and dropped it onto the floor, grabbing his spare t-shirt and pulling it on. He took his pants off and left them on the shirt, both flicking out of sight as he walked away, off to be cleaned again by the elves. When he got back to the bed Pansy had the covers down and was lying on her side staring at him. He crawled onto the bed and lay down close to the middle, on his back staring up at the stars. Draco’s was one of the first stories she had told him, it was the first one they had looked for in the old astronomy books. Draco was the dragon who fought Minerva during the wars between the giants and the gods. Minerva threw Draco's twisted body into the heavens before it had time to unwind itself and so the constellation was born, twisted around itself. The little stars on his ceiling reminded him who he was. He was born to be thrown amongst the stars before he had a chance to sort himself out, thrown amongst those above him, forced to prove himself, to shine the brightest.

As he let his body relax into the mattress she slid closer to him and wrapped an arm around him again, pillowing her head on his chest. He felt her tuck herself in as close to him as she could get and he tugged the blankets over them. As he felt her drifting off to sleep he murmured “Sweet dreams,” and felt her smile against him. He closed his eyes, tomorrow was a new day and with his new resolve set he would follow through. He would be one day closer to facing his father and his fate. Finally he slept and no dreams plagued him, he had made the right choice at last.

Pansy watched him, knowing he was too busy thinking to talk to her. She hadn't really expected him to anyway. He was always quiet when he woke from a nightmare, afraid to go back to sleep, but not wanting to stay where he was, to relive the nightmare, to fall back asleep and return to it. So when he asked to go upstairs, she wasn't surprised. With a nod, she got up after him, still holding his hand, though she put an arm around his waist as he draped his over her shoulder. She held tight to him as they headed up the stairs, his grip on the railing a bit uncertain. The nightmare had shaken him more than usual, but Pansy was determined, as always, to be there to catch him and hold him up as well as she could, even if all she could do was offer him a hand to help him stand again after he fell. Arriving outside the doors to their rooms, he asked if she would stay with him. She knew he was going to ask that. He never liked to be alone on nights like this, and as long as she could help it she would never force him to do so by not being there.

She stepped away and disappeared into her own bedroom, rummaging through her drawers for pajamas. Her drawer was filled mostly with horrid pink things, frills and long clingy pants that she hated, silk with ruffles and awful sleeping gowns of some kind. All things that her mother had bought, all things that stayed right there in that drawer. Instead, off to the side she kept a pile of Draco's things, a pair of sweatpants he'd outgrown a few years back that she'd taken to wearing, a couple of his t-shirts he'd either surrendered to her or that she'd taken from his room here while he'd been at his home. Leaving the dress in a pile on the floor, she put on the old sweatpants and one of his stolen shirts, pulling her bedroom door shut behind her as she snuck silently across the hall into his room.

He was still in the bathroom when she got there, and she went to sit on the bed to wait for him. As he came out and noticed her clothes and gave her a slight smile, she was thrilled to see his expression change so much for just a simple thing like that. She tried to give him a smile back, but was still too worried for him to be much of a good smile in the least. As he headed over to change into his own pajamas of sorts, she crawled up to the top of the bed and tossed the extra pillows into the floor, pulling back the covers and sliding in between the sheets, rolling onto her side as he kicked off his pants and came to lay with her in his comfy shirt and boxers. She watched his face as he stared up at the stars she'd put there years ago, adjusted just a few hours ago, figuring he was trying to remember the stories about it she had told him. There were three versions, but he'd always favored the first one, where the great dragon was coiled up and thrown into the heavens among the stars. She was never quite sure why, but it seemed that he identified with it. He always seemed to gaze a little off into the distance when she told him that story, he always got a little quieter afterwards.

Pansy breathed out softly as he finally relaxed, scooting closer to wrap her arm around his middle again, resting her head on his chest, her favorite pillow. She closed her eyes as he pulled the blanket up over him, smiling again as he wished her sweet dreams. "Goodnight, Draco." She had intended once again to feign sleep until he too was sleeping, but as much as she fought it, she was quickly asleep before him, though he followed closely behind.

Morning came and Pansy woke up with her arm still around his middle, his wrapped behind her to rest on the back of her shoulder. She stayed where she was, only opening her eyes to take a quick look around. The room was still relatively dark thanks to the thick curtains, but in the cracks between them she could see a little morning light filtering in. It was still early. She glanced up at Draco's face, smiling to see him sleeping so peacefully. Apparently the change of location had fixed things last night, allowing him to sleep undisturbed for the rest of the night. It was times like this that she lived for, times when she got to see Draco happy, relaxed. They were so rare, and becoming rarer still, and she treasured every one of them. It was just unfortunate that they were most common while he was sleeping, that his waking hours were all too scarcely pleasant.

She kept still, letting him sleep a while longer. She wasn't sure how long she laid there, her head on his chest listening to his steady breathing and heartbeat, but finally she couldn't stay still any longer and she tried to slip carefully out of his grasp, out from between the sheets. She put her feet on the cold floor and snuck across the room, peeking in the mirror at herself. Running her fingers through her hair for a moment, arranging it somewhat where it had gotten a little crazy from sleep, she tried to figure out something they could do today to keep his mind off things, to have a day to relax before they headed back to Hogwarts tonight after dinner. She glanced over her shoulder to see if Draco had woken up or not.

Draco was fast asleep when Pansy left the bed. Minutes later he sifted and clutched at empty space. Blinking he quickly woke up and rolled over to see her standing in the bathroom staring at him. With a deep breath he relaxed back into the soft mattress. Closing his eyes he felt rather than saw Pansy walk past the bed. Draco had learnt to differentiate footsteps at an early age. For him, always knowing who was coming was a blessing. Pansy had light footsteps, her toes scrunching into the carpet with each barefoot step past him. His mother was defined by the snap of her heels, fortunately Malfoy Manor, unlike the Parkinson home, was decorated as a show of power and not as a functional living space. The foyer and downstairs was flagstone and obsidian, occasionally punctuated by antique Persian rugs. Upstairs was all marble in varying colours with oriental rugs in the bedrooms to protect from the cold.

Pointedly avoiding thoughts of his father, Draco groaned as Pansy nudged the curtains open, rolling away from the sunlight. Slowly he sat up and swung his legs off the bed. Scrubbing at his eyes he watched her walk back into the bathroom. Feeling slightly more awake, he ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even further. Standing he walked past Pansy, brushing his fingers over her shoulder as a silent sign of appreciation. Stepping into the shower he pulled off his boxers and shirt and dropped them outside the shower, turning on the hot water. Groaning he stood under the stream and let the hot water relax his muscles and wash away the sweat of the night. He turned the temperature of the shower even higher, slowly steaming himself into oblivion. The water felt like a soft caress, a warm hug, a night of peace. It was like Pansy to him, something he always knew would make him feel better, help him to shed his troubles, even if it was just for a moment.

Trying to distract himself from thoughts of last night Draco decided to ask Pansy what she thought they would do that day, he hoped she had some ideas that would help him take his mind off things. “Pans, what are the plans for today?” He wondered if she was going to want to spend some time with her father, if she was then he would have to find something to distract him.

Pansy watched him reach over to the empty side of the bed, looking around quickly afterwards and relaxing once his eyes met hers. She offered him a small smile as he melted back into the bed, and she came out of the bathroom and crossed over to her dresser, sorting through her clothes and trying to find something to wear that wasn't horrible. She gave up for the time being and went to the window, tugging the curtains aside to let the sunlight in, laughing a little as Draco groaned in lack of appreciation for the change in environment. She headed back into the bathroom where she washed her face off in the sink, waking herself up a little. Draco appeared in the mirror behind her, chills running down her spine as his soft touch to her shoulder, a mix of emotions somewhere between the usual childish giddiness at his touch, and the nervousness it had caused since their first violent fight.

Pansy stayed where she was as he turned the water on, smiling to herself at his noises of happiness because of the hot water. She dried off her face and sat down on the sink counter, the steam from his shower warming the room considerably so her toes weren't so frozen anymore and she didn't have to keep her arms wrapped around herself. As he asked what she thought they'd do today, she pondered for a moment knowing she'd want them to do something fun to get his mind off of last night's dream. "I dunno. We could always hang out in the garden again. Or we could go swimming before it gets too cold to use the pool later this fall. Do you still have swim trunks here?" She knew she wanted to catch up with her awesome dad, but she could do that later tonight before they had dinner. Draco needed her more right now, and she'd be there for him no matter what. "What do you think? Better ideas?"

Draco thought over the contents of his drawers and shook his head. After a few moments of silence he rembmerd that Pansy couldn’t see him, “Swimming sounds good to me, it seems sunny enough today after all. And I don’t think I have any trunks here that fit. I’ll just transfigure a pair of boxers to work.” Ever since July he’d been relishing the ability to use magic, using it to do things that he could easily do without it. After he’d finished washing his hair Draco flicked the shower off and stuck an arm out of the shower, “Pass me the towel?” Accepting the towel he dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist, stepping out of the shower and over to the sink next to her.

He pulled a drawer open and took out his toothbrush and shaving tools. Draco lathered up his face with the shaving cream and noticed Pansy watching him, she’d always watched him shave and he’d never understood her fascination with it. Holding the razor to his cheek he pulled it back and put it on the counter, grabbing the foam again. Before she could react or move he had placed a dollop of shaving cream on her chin. He remembered back before he’d even begun shaving, when they’d played with the cream and drawn shapes on the shower walls with it.

Pansy nodded, swimming it was. She was jealous that he could just transfigure some boxers to work. He used magic quite often just because he could, and yet she had to wait until December to be able to use it outside of school without consequence. He knew she was jealous of it and sometimes she felt like he did things just because she couldn't, all in good fun though. She grabbed the towel off the rack and put it in his hand when he asked for it, glancing at him as he lathered his face to shave. She wasn't sure why she liked watching him shave. Something about how concentrated he looked when he was doing it, the way his eyes got so focused, his hand so precise. Something about how it reminded her just how grown up they were now, not far from graduating, not many years younger than their parents were when they were married. Scary thoughts, really, being stuck out in the real world so soon. She'd been lost in her thoughts and watching him that she hadn't paid attention to what he was doing, and before she realized it he'd stuck some of the shaving cream on her face. Laughing, she wiped it off and stuck it on his nose instead.

She slipped down off the counter and pulled her hairbrush out of her drawer, moving it through her hair. "I guess if we're going swimming I'll just shower afterwards. Hopefully mother dearest hasn't gotten rid of my good swim suits and just left those terrible pink ones." She paused a moment before she sat her brush down and went to her bedroom, searching through the drawers until she finally spotted some turquoise fabric which she quickly grabbed victoriously, carrying it back to the bathroom where she dropped it onto the counter and picked up her hairbrush again to resume her brushing. "Crisis averted. Now you just have to prove how good with a wand you are and see if your little transfiguring trick will work or not." She smirked at him in the mirror as she tried to decide between a ponytail or leaving her hair down. She'd pulled it part of the way up when she abandoned the idea and brushed it out again, deciding just to leave it down for now. Being back at home with Draco was like stepping into a time machine and coming out a few years back, when they'd been the most inseparable of friends. Back when doing all of this together, sleeping, waking up, getting ready, was as normal as anything else in the world. Back before all the mess of their seventh year of school so far, before Astoria and before their fights. Back when things had been good.

Draco finished up shaving while Pansy went off to hunt for her swimsuit. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d gone swimming, it had to be at least a year. The last time had been at Malfoy Manor where Pansy kept much more clothing that was to her taste rather than her mothers. Draco splashed water on his face to clean off the shaving cream as she walked back in with the turquoise suit. He didn’t think he’d seen that one before but Leo had mentioned going to the beach that summer. It was amazing to him how quickly they fell back into old patterns, regardless of how much time passed some things would never change. Drying his face he put the hand towel to one side and headed back into his room, tugging her hair on his way past. He remembered when she’d had it much shorter, a clean bob for years. This was much more amusing now because even though she was usually the one playing with his hair he’d always enjoyed running his fingers through hers when they fell asleep. Something about simple physical contact like that was calming for him, leaving him with a sense of peace that was hard for him to find let alone retain and enjoy. Oddly enough it was something that was only between him and Pansy, he hated anyone else touching her hair and didn’t want to touch anyone else’s. It had always honestly disgusted him, other people’s hair, and if anyone messed up his hair other than Pansy there was hell to pay. In reality he let Pansy get away with so much more than anyone else yet at the same time he expected so much more from her that he was oftentimes unrealistic.

Stepping out of the bathroom he closed the door behind him to give her some privacy to change and walked over to the dresser. He pulled out a pair of boxers and looked at them, they looked like they should still fit. He took them to the bed and picked up his wand from the bedside table. Muttering the spell he smirked when they transfigured into black and white trunks. Perfect. He’d known it would work but all the same it was always nice to see proven results. Dropping his towel he pulled them on and tossed the towel to the side for the elves to wash. Walking back over to his overnight bag Draco grabbed his favourite hairbrush from the bag and turned to the mirror in his room. Taking the brush he started to neaten up his bed head. He would never let anyone see him like this, except Pansy because most of the time she tried to make his hair look this way, which he’d never understood, it looked so uncouth like that. Putting the comb down he walked over to the bathroom door and knocked, “You done?”

Pansy smirked at him as he tugged her hair, watching him leave and close the door behind him. He'd always done that, tugged at it playfully when they were alone or played with it and ran his fingers through it when she was sleeping. She pretended to sleep around him more than he realized, either for the purposes of making sure he actually went to sleep when he'd had a bad day, or so that she could lie there while he traced his fingers through her hair while he thought she was asleep. She loved it when he played with her hair, and it was only when she was 'asleep' that he'd do it. Never when they were awake, even if she insisted it was only fair since he liked to lay in her lap and have her play with his hair. And that was another thing. She was the only one he ever allowed to do that. If anyone else touched his hair, they were at danger to lose that hand, but he practically begged Pansy to play with it sometimes. And she loved it, that one special thing that only she was allowed to do. She got away with so much with Draco.

She slipped out of her clothes and pulled the suit on, her new turquoise one she'd gotten this past summer. She tied up the top of it at the back of her neck no problem, but the other string that went around her back proved a little more difficult. She attempted to tie it in a little knotted bow, but couldn't quite get it tight enough even after attempting a handful of times. Finally she got frustrated and just left the strings looped over each other, opening the door just as Draco knocked. She spun around and pulled her hair aside, indicating the strings. "Can you tie that? I can't get it right." She looked back at him over her shoulder, waiting for him to tie it so they could head out to the pool.

Draco stared.

Pansy blinked at him, poking him in the chest. "Hey. You. Tie?" Maybe it was the wrackspurts.

Draco stared as Pansy opened the door. Well that was a new suit for sure. He would most certainly have remembered that one. When she turned around and pulled her hair to the side he blinked and returned to the land of coherent thought. Somewhat. He stared at the ties until she poked him and asked again. Taking them he pulled them across each other and leaned forward to ask if it was too tight. When she shook her head he knotted it and pulled the ends into a bow. Stepping back he walked around her and over to the sink, he’d forgotten to brush his teeth. Putting toothpaste on the brush he grinned at her as she joined him in the mirror. The bright blue of the suit flattered her and he had to wonder why her mother had persisted for so many years with the pink. It didn’t do anything for her, completely opposite to this ensemble.

With the toothbrush in his mouth he managed to get out the words, “See, they did transfigure.” Not that the last word was particularly coherent through a toothbrush. At her questioning look he held up a finger to indicate she had to wait a moment then he finished up brushing and spat and rinsed. Wiping his mouth off again he turned to her and repeated his statement with a smirk. He knew she hated not being able to use magic until December and that she glared at him every time he used magic unnecessarily. Reaching into the towel cupboard he pulled out two pool sized towels that would completely engulf them later and nudged her out of the bathroom. “Let’s go before the sun’s all gone.”

She shook her head as his breath rushed past her ear when he asked if it was too tight. She almost contemplated asking him to tie it again, if only to have his fingers on her back again, but she decided just to leave it. I'm pretty sure I already had Pansy brush her teeth, but if not, she's probably brushing them right now with Draco. He tried to talk to her, but she had no idea what he was saying and could only look at him a little puzzled. He finished brushing and repeated what he said, earning a small glare from her in return. "Of course they did." She pointed at the string in front that he'd left undone. "You'd better tie that. They'll come right off when I push you in, and then I'll just laugh at you mercilessly." She turned to head out of the bathroom as he pushed her a little, rolling her eyes. "It's still early Draco, it's barely ten thirty!"

Regardless, she reached behind her and found his hand, taking it as she hurried out of the bedroom and down the hall, flying down the steps sometimes two at a time as she ran casually through the house, around back toward the kitchen, and past the table where Leo, as usual, was sitting with something to eat and something to read. "We're going swimming, daddy, be back later." She gave him a smile, and he smiled back, but his expression changed, as usual, the instant she was out of sight. He gave Draco the "I-know-you-have-teenage-boy-hormones-and-probably-have-the-hots-for-my-baby-girl-but-if-you-touch-her-I-will-know" stare as the two teenagers disappeared out the door. Pansy led him down a path through the garden to a hedge-enclosed area, a gate that had grown over with ivy. She shoved the gate open, dragged him through the opening, and let it slam shut behind them as she stopped, looking at the pool. It was kept clean by a spell set over it to keep leaves and bugs and general mess out of it so it would never have to be cleaned by hand. She grabbed the towels out of his hand and deposited them onto a chair before turning to look at him with a little smile. They hadn't been swimming in ages.

Draco took her hand as she lead him through the house and out the door. Leo giving him that look had to be one of the most nerve-wrecking things ever. Mostly because Draco knew it was true, he would know. Somehow he would and the consequences would not be fun at all. As they wound their way down the path and into the little pool enclosure area Draco laughed, squeezing Pansy’s hand. As she dumped the towels he tied the string on his trunks, just to make sure she couldn’t pull them off in the pool. There was no way that would ever end well… Leo would probably storm the area and castrate him with the METAL sword that Draco knew he had but hadn’t ever actually seen. It was just something that he knew was there. It was not that other sword you dirty dirty people. When she turned back towards him, Draco pulled her into a hug and wished her a good morning. He’d just realized that they’d never said good morning. How they’d managed that was a mystery to him but he supposed that they had started their day and just fallen into a rhythm, not thinking of normal things like greetings.

Staring over her shoulder he eyed the pool, remembering just how deep all the little bits of it were. If he recalled correctly the spot on the right end was the deepest and the left was rather shallow. After double checking he ran his hand over her back and smirked. In one quick move before Pansy knew what was happening Draco picked her up and jumped into the pool. Surfacing he couldn’t help but laugh at the shocked look on her face. It wasn’t as though he’d never done this before, it was one of his favourite things to do yet somehow she never expected it.

Pansy laughed as he hugged her, telling him good morning as well. She tried not to pay attention to just how much their bodies were pressed together when they hugged. She should have seen it coming, but his hand tracing down her back was far too distracting, that smirk on his face making her wonder what in the world he was doing. And in an instant she was picked up and he was running toward the pool, jumping in. She surfaced a second after him, her mouth open in shock at him that quickly turned to laughter. "You always do that!" She slipped back under the water, poking him in the belly as she came back up, spitting a little water toward him like a fountain. "You get me all distracted every time and then I always forget that you always have to do that." She leaned back in the water, smoothing her hair back a little more where jumping in sort of had it in disarray. She swam to the edge of the pool, pulling herself up out of the water and climbing out before she turned to sit on the edge, reaching down to splash some water in Draco's direction.

Draco laughed and then squirmed away when she poked his stomach, she knew he was ticklish there and always took advantage of it somehow. He remembered the one time she’d surprise attacked him and he’d lain there helpless for a good five minutes, almost choking on his own laughter, begging her to stop. If he recalled correctly Muffy had interrupted that pleasant interlude as well. He hoped she wouldn’t show up today. Floating back up to the surface he fountained some retaliatory water at her back as she swam to the side. “Well then Pans don’t make it so easy for me to distract you, and I don’t have to do it but it is the best way of getting us both into the pool.” Tipping his head back he smoothed his hair out of his face, slicking it to look almost like it had when they’d just entered Hogwarts and he’d though hair gel was the be all and end all of styling products. Boy was he glad that was over. He rolled back onto his stomach and swam to join her at the side. The water was absolutely perfect, just a couple of degrees warmer than the air outside and just right in the sun. He ducked to avoid her splashing and grabbed her foot. Surfacing he put his arms on either side of her and rested his head on her knees.

"Well it's not my fault you're so distracting." She fake pouted for a moment until he came to rest his head on her knees, his head always ending up resting in her lap, it seemed. She poked him on the nose. "You can't honestly tell me though that if I wasn't distracted you wouldn't do it. You'd still do it anyway, I'd just fight back and kick your ass." She smirked at him and ran her fingers through his hair, messing it up again and laughing at the face he made about it. Her mind shot back to last night, and seeing him smiling right now was more than she could have hoped she'd get from him this morning. It had been one of the worst nights in a long time, but this morning had actually ended up surprisingly well so far. Though she was tempted to ask how he was feeling or if he was alright after whatever had bothered him so badly in his dreams last night, she didn't want to ruin the moment and so she just kept messing up his hair instead.