And Then He Was Gone

Nobody Said the Truth Was Easy

"There are two things you can always expect from a neighbor. One, if they get your mail they'll always reseal it after they've looked through it. Two, if they're hot, you get a front row spot when they wash the car."

~Ashley LeeAnn Fredrick

"Let's get something straight; shit is not holy, it might be holey, but never holy. So when you say, 'hol(e)y shit,' make sure you relate it to Swiss cheese."

~Ashley LeeAnn Fredrick

"Malfoy," Ginny said letting her eyes widen slightly. Startled, the blonde man looked up from his crouched position. "I didn't know he looked like that underneath," Ginny muttered to Pansy.

"Join the club," Pansy said before regaining herself. "Malfoy, what are you doing?"

"Moving in, what does it look like?" Malfoy replied picking up another box and hauling it inside.

"Why aren't you using magic?" Ginny asked trying to think of Harry and get her mind away from Malfoy.

"Well, Weasel, I have to keep in shape somehow."

"Ginny, close your mouth, you're drooling," Pansy muttered. "Listen, I'll see you later, alright?"

"Sure," Ginny nodded tearing her eyes away. "Can you handle..." she asked waggling her finger back and forth between the two flats.

"Goodbye, Weasley," Pansy said pushing Ginny towards the stairs. Pansy glanced over at Malfoy who was still moving in his boxes as if nothing had happened. Sighing heavily Pansy stomped into her flat and slammed the door roughly behind her.

***************************************************************

Later, just as Pansy was climbing into bed, a knock sounded on her door. Cursing, she made her way to it and flung it open, forgetting that she was only wearing a long t-shirt she had borrowed from Hermione one night.

"Parkinson, I..." Draco Malfoy abruptly stopped at the sight of Pansy.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she grunted tiredly.

"I was just going to tell you I'm not going to apologize anymore," he snapped coming back to his senses.

"Good, because it was getting quite annoying." Pansy went to shut the door, but he stopped it.

"Can't you talk to me, for just one second?"

"One."

"Seriously," he said as she opened back up the door.

"We have nothing to talk about," she said looking at him. Damn, she thought, studying him. And after that her mind just stopped working. Draco Malfoy wasn't wearing his usual array of clothes. It seems as though he couldn't sleep and had jumped out of bed to come and talk to her. His blonde hair was tasseled slightly and he wore black silk pajama pants hanging dangerously low on his waist.

"Please, Pansy," he said bearing his grey eyes into hers.

Sighing rather audibly Pansy opened the door and allowed him in.

"Nice place," Draco said looking around.

"It hasn't changed in years, Malfoy, and you've been here before. Now, I was going to turn in, so what do you want?"

"You know that night I came to you?" he asked sitting down on her couch.

"The night you passed out on my floor?" she asked.

"That's it," he said smirking. "You didn't think I meant what I said because I was drunk."

"Yes," she sighed sitting in the only armchair. "Of course I don't know what else to presume when you can't walk a straight line, throw up on my rug, and pass out."

"I haven't been drunk since I was thirteen years old," he said setting his face delicately in his propped up hand. "Since then I've always been able to hold my liquor."

"Well, congratulations," Pansy sighed rolling her eyes and stifling a yawn. She had only closed her eyes for a brief moment, but when they fluttered back open Draco Malfoy was leering above her one hand on each of the armrests.

"I don't know, why, out of all nights, I got drunk. But, I swear to you, Pansy Parkinson, I meant everything I said."

"Draco," she said looking up at him un-intimidated. "When Blaise died, and I asked you if you were alright, you said you'd have to have feelings to miss him. You'd have to have feelings to love me, Draco Malfoy."

"You think I haven't told myself that a hundred times!" he growled. "I've tried to fight it; all these years I've buried myself into the beds of other women to fight it. But it wouldn't go away. And even after five years it still won't go away. Malfoys aren't supposed to possess feelings. But somehow the universe must've got fucked up, Parkinson, because I can't help but want to snog you senseless every time I see you. All I want to do is hold you and know that you belong to me."

"There was a time ago when I would've believed that. I would've drunk it up like water. But since the war I've grown up. I don't rely on people anymore."

"Maybe, Pansy Parkinson, you don't need me, but I...all I've learned, these years away from you, is that maybe I need you."

"Malfoys don't need anyone but their damn ego. Heck, they even throw their consciences out the window."

"Pansy, don't do this, I'm trying to be honest."

"Honest!" she yelled standing up and knocking him off balance. "You want honest, fine. There was a time where I did wait around for you. A time where I watched you frolic with other girls and whistle at other Slytherins. But that is not anymore, Draco Malfoy. I will not be used like you use everyone else. In a different life, in a different place, maybe it could be; but not here, not anymore. The day you walked through that fire was the day I closed myself off. Goodnight, Malfoy, I'll see you at work tomorrow." Pansy strode over and threw the door open. Malfoy just stood there for a while looking shocked before standing up with dignity and making his way proudly out the door.