And Then He Was Gone

They Way We Were

"When life gives you lemons, make lemonade."

~lots of people have quoted it

It was a cold evening in the dungeons. Voldemort's latest killing had been going around like wildfire since lunch. The seventh year made her way toward a comfortable armchair seated between her two favorite housemates: Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini.

"Crabbe and Goyle won't shut up about their fathers' roles in it. Doesn't anyone in this place think of anything besides You-Know-Who and his bloody Death Eaters?" Blaise asked sighing from his casually sprawled position on the black leather couch.

"Come on, Zabini, they were raised just like us. You kind of have to feel sorry for the poor bastards," Malfoy put in smugly slouching further into his armchair.

"Draco Malfoy feel sorry for anybody?" the girl joked. "And I thought I'd marry Zabini before I saw that day."

"Don't get your hopes up, love," Blaise replied coyly. "Malfoy, what about you mate? Planning on getting that pretty little dark mark imprinted on your arm anytime soon?"

"I won't be played by some half-blood like my father. The day I help Voldemort is the day I catch Crabbe and Goyle snogging in a broom closet."

"Don't say that, Draco, I wouldn't be so surprised." Pansy shivered.

"Neither would I," Zabini added.

"Well, we've got to do something," she sighed. "I heard the sixth year girls talking yesterday. All the Slytherins are starting to doubt our loyalty."

"What loyalty? My loyalty remains in myself, and possibly with you two," Malfoy stated nonchalantly but seemingly interested in the girl's news.

"I agree, we're loyal to each other, like any Slytherin. I'm not letting any Mud-blood brand me," Blaise put in.

"Yes, but they think we're turning our backs on them! You know what Slytherins do when they suspect; revenge. It's going to be brutal if we don't prove our loyalty in Dark Arts around here soon."

"Pansy, love, you really need to stop caring what other people think about you so much," Malfoy said lazily.

"I don't know, Draco, she might be right. If the Slytherins have doubts about us...." Zabini said sitting up taller now.

"How about this, first thing in the morning we'll talk to Dumbledore and Snape. Work something out with him, alright?"

"I don't' know, trusting that old fool?" she asked suspiciously.

"Yea, but Snape trusts him, there must be some reason why. He'll figure out a way for us to be okay without becoming Death Eaters and all," Malfoy said with shaky confidence.

"I hope you're right. I've heard what some of the Death Eaters do with the girls...." she trailed off.

"Don't worry, Pans," Blaise said reassuringly making his way to her and placing a hand on her arm. "We won't let anything happen to you, count on it."

"Take a Slytherin's word, gee, I don't know about that."

"Don't worry, if I back out on you Malfoy certainly won't," he said winking at her.

"Oy, Blaise mate, do us a favor; go to bed," Malfoy said getting up and pushing the black-haired boy towards the staircase.

"We'll get through it, right?" she asked uncertain (she wasn't a Gryffindor).

"I guarantee it," he said and smiled a bit, enough to make her smile back.

"How long you figure until they notice?" she asked flopping carelessly onto a warmer sofa then what she was used to.

"Ten minutes, when Malfoy's not around to scare the living daylights out of them," Zabini said making himself comfortable on the only armchair.

"You crack me up, Zabini," Draco said dangerously.

"Don't worry, you don't scare me," she smirked.

"Oh, don't I?" he asked sitting down very close to her. He reached over and put an arm on the armrest on her other side so he was over her facing her. "Do I now?"

"No," she answered stubbornly.

"Hey, you two get a room will you?" Blaise put in. "Whatever, stay here. I'm going to check out the dorm, Malfoy. I'll be there if you need me. Don't get any ideas...." He grabbed his trunk and took off up one of the two short staircases.

"I told you Dumbledore would figure something out," he smirked still leaning over her.

"Yes, but now he's convinced us to help him and bloody hero Potter as well," she sulked shaking her head.

"Yes, but we can still keep our pride intact," he said with certainty.

"How?"

"Get you to seduce Weasley than tell him it was all a joke. This could be fun you know."

"You're horrible; get your head out of the gutter will you?"

"You know I used to hate you," he said sitting back against the back of the couch. He peered at her sour expressing out of the corner of his eyes. "When we were kids; you were such a bitch."

"Oh!"

"Well, you were. Not to mention my parents were completely obsessed with me marrying you. And you were nearly as stuck-up as me; I couldn't have that, could I?"

"And now," she asked. "Do you still hate me?"

"No," he said. "You've defiantly grown up, Parkinson. You're not the same little girl I knew."

"None of the three of us are the same anymore," she pointed out. "A year ago we would've given almost anything to be Death Eaters. What changed?"

"We grew up and realized there's more to life then serving someone who will only lose in the end. I'd rather not be in it at all, but we don't have that option, with our status and all," he said.

"We've all changed so much," she sighed leaning back as well.

"Yes, but it's different with the change in you and the change in Zabini."

"How?"

"Well, I still don't fancy him."

"You fancy me?" she asked utterly shocked.

"That a problem?" he asked cocky shooting one eyebrow up into his forehead.

"Maybe," she said. "It could possibly be. I fancy you too, I suppose."

"Well, I am irresistible," he said sitting back up.

"Oh, shove it," she said. Draco Malfoy smiled (okay, smirked) and leaned over and kissed Pansy Parkinson for the first time.