Those Wrong, Yet it's Right, Things

Chapter 5

It does not matter how slowly you go so long as you do not stop.

~Confucius

Unfortunately, Dark Arts ended Pansy in exactly the same predicament she'd been placed in yesterday. It seemed as though the teachers had suddenly gone on this unite the houses high and in every class they were getting paired with the opposite house. And, again unfortunately, it usually went in alphabetical order. Parkinson had ended up with Potter again.

Together they had to write a five-foot scroll on (their selected topic) the pros and cons of the Vampire Restrictions. They worked diligently for twenty minutes in awkward, yet welcomed, silence, shoving the book back and forth and waiting patiently for the other to finish scrawling something on the scroll and then sighing in frustration because they had just written down what the other was going to. Eventually they both just stopped. Harry had to convince her...somehow.

"Parkinson, about last night, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things, I had no right."

She looked up at him, sizing him up to tell whether he was sincere, and then deciding his intent was true, nodded her forgiveness.

"You figure everything we right down has to come from our books?" she asked just when he had given up hope of conversation.

"I don't suppose so...why?"

"I just know a couple more things about the Vampire Restrictions that might help us get to five-feet. I have a few books in my room. Mind if I take this tonight?"

"By all means." Harry was running a million scenarios through his mind. He had to convince her to fight for them. Hermione had said they needed someone smart, and her and Ron might disagree at first, but Harry knew Pansy wasn't as dumb as she pretended to be. They needed her.

True to his slyness, Draco Malfoy was at Pansy's side before either of them noticed. Pansy spun around, trying to hide all emotion she felt towards him--all bad--in her eyes.

"De quoi est-ce que tu as besoin?" she said, hoping that if he chose to make a scene at least others wouldn't be able to understand it. The question however was exactly what he wanted: What do you need?

"J'ai besoin de toi, amour," he said easily. I need you, love.

Not now! Pansy thought. "Pourquoi?" Why?

"Parce-que tu es la mienne." Because you are mine. A smirk graced his face and Pansy reached up and slapped it, the reality of what she had just done slapping her very soon afterwards. But there was no turning back now. Pansy mustered up all the strength she had.

"I will never be yours. Never." Though Draco was good at hiding emotion, one like Pansy who had known him forever could tell his façade was slipping. He tilted his chin up and started walking away. He stopped almost to his desk and threw a casual phrase across the room that scared her so much if she had not been leaning on the table she would have found her way to the stone ground. Oui, vous.

Harry could see a flash of fear in her eyes before she quickly discarded it and turned her face back to the book, ignoring the stares and whispers that quickly enveloped the room. "I didn't know you spoke French."

"One of the many many things you don't know about me, Potter." She looked up at him. "And one of the few you will find out." She turned back down to the reading, searching again for anything they had missed. She wasn't sure if she had enough information back in her dorm for the whole foot they had left yet.

Harry couldn't help his curiosity. "What did he say?"

Pansy knew he wanted the whole conversation, but she was only willing to give him the three words that scared her the most. "Oui, vous. Yes, you will."

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Pansy sat alone that night during dinner in the library unknown to the librarian's keen senses, the weight of the day cutting through her thoughts. She took a deep breath and tried to prioritize herself again. She picked up the quill pen and set to work on her potions homework.

Oui, vous.

She threw the quill down in frustration. The words wouldn't leave her alone.

Oui, vous.

The last thing you ever wanted to do was disagree with a Malfoy, because most likely it would be the last thing you would ever do. She never thought words could scare her so much. Three little words: Yes, you will.

She once again packed up her bags, knowing tomorrow she would have three nights worth of homework to do. Pansy had gone too far to go back now. She wasn't ready to bow down to her predetermined future just yet. Not without a fight.

Pansy tossed her bag over her shoulder, the weight of it almost taking her to the ground. Who was she kidding? Pansy had no say in her life, except maybe what she had for breakfast, and she was sure once she left Hogwarts and settled into the Malfoy Estate she wouldn't even have any say in that.

Potter had been right: about Slytherins, about her, about everything--as much as she hated to admit it. They were all destined for the Dark Side just like he assumed.

Pansy shook her head and walked out of the library. It was almost sunset and she was not going to think about Potter. Not again.