Omnia Mors Perimit

His mother delighted in ignoring him, but Draco didn't care. He wasn't a baby anymore! And if he gave in now, she'd never realise that! All right - he had hurled some nasty things at her, things he hadn't really meant. But only because she had provoked him! This was her fault, not his, and anyway, she had the wrong attitude to begin with!

The branding was hurting awfully still, but he couldn't admit this. She'd only sneer and tell him that he had asked for this pain. He was wondering what on earth had got into her. She had never been anything but loving and caring and tender with him, and now? Where was her support when he needed it? His father wasn't there, okay, but could that change a person so thoroughly?! Shouldn't they stick together more in such a situation? If only the Dark Lord liberated Azkaban soon! Everything would hopefully be back at normal when his dad was back! That whole man-in-the-house thing did her no good.

Since the start of the holidays, Pansy had come over a couple of times - and since their argument, he regularly invited her to annoy his mother, because she didn't approve of visitors. And Pansy had been delighted to come. She was great, honestly. She was like the only one he could rely on - Vince was too dumb to be of real help, and Theo wasn't to be trusted in the first place. But Panse was there, encouraging him, praising him, saying all the right things - that his father's imprisonment was a scandal of justice, that he'd be released soon, that everything would end just fine, and how much she admired Draco's stoical endurance.

He had slept until far after noon, missing breakfast and lunch, and he might have slept some more if it hadn't been for his mother, who knocked, stepped in, opened the curtains with a swish of her wand and announced laconically, "There's a visitor for you, Draco."

"Who is it," he muttered sleepily.

"You might want to get dressed. It's a young lady."

She walked away without another word, and cursing, Draco got up and put on some robes. It didn't need much sagacity to guess which 'young lady' had come for a visit, just that he wasn't very keen on meeting her right now. He had been practising with aunt Bella until dawn, he was exhausted beyond expression. He strolled down into the parlour, finding his suspects confirmed. Pansy was waiting for him with an expectant expression, beaming at him as he came in.

While the whole country complained about the bleak weather, Malfoy Manor was spared from the Dementors' breeding, so Pansy was extremely happy when he suggested a walk through the gardens. She crooned how beautiful everything was - which was undoubtedly true, and under different circumstances, Draco would have commended his mother's abilities as a garden designer - but as things were, he merely nodded. At some point, she had linked arms with him and he had let her - knowing that she fancied him, he had never allowed her something like this before, but in this moment, it felt good. She was there, she was on his side unconditionally. She chatted away about meaningless issues, robes she meant to buy, friends she had met, songs she had heard, and his mind trailed away most pleasantly. She did everything in her power to distract him from all the dreadful things that had happened, he only had to nod and hum occasionally.

He gazed at her from the side. She did look cute, didn't she? All these years, he had never really looked at her, and if he had, he had merely found that she wasn't the sort of beauty that he'd go for. She was tall and skinny - no breasts, no waist, no bottom - but now, he thought that it befitted her well. Her hair was dark and sleek and glossy, and her features might not be very regular, but interesting and unusual. Perhaps he ought to give it a try? Give her a try? She wasn't the brightest light in the evening sky, but - it struck him that he had always believed the only adequate match for him was someone resembling his mother. As beautiful as her, as brilliant, and elegant in mind as well as in style. But what good had all her qualities done his mother? And what sort of spookily oedipal notion was this to begin with?!

"...and with all the restructuring, he's finally been promoted. Mum's so glad, he's so deserved it."

"Hm?"

"My dad. The promotion to the Goblin Liaison Office."

"Oh! Oh, of course. Send him my congratulations, will you."

She beamed at him. "Thanks! He'll be very pleased."

He didn't really think about what he was doing next. He unlinked their arms and fully turned towards her, brushing a kiss on her forehead. His voice was rather hoarse when saying, "You're great, Panse."

Four weeks ago, he'd have died laughing at the sight of her face right now. She looked embezzled for some seconds, and literally jumped at him next. She whirled her arms around his neck and kissed him quite forcefully. It was a bit more than he could handle, but not unpleasant - the opposite of unpleasant really. He had no clue what to do, but fortunately Pansy had, and in no time, they were snogging as if they had been practising this for years.

When they made a break to catch their breath, he chuckled. "Where did you learn this?"

She blushed up to her ears. "I - uhm... Well, you might remember that I went out with Ivor Warrington back then...?"

He did - that little affair had been the laughing stock of Slytherin House. "Bless him."

"You're not... You're not angry or so?"

"Why would I be angry?"

"Because - look - but I did break up with him in an instant, because I was really in love with you..."

As if he had given a damn, but this was hardly the moment to confess it. Instead, he pulled her close again and ruffled her hair. "Well, everything's fine then, isn't it?"

Narcissa saw them returning to the house from out of one of the music chamber's windows, tightly enwrapped. For some seconds, she didn't believe her own eyes - Draco? With the Parkinson girl?! Hand in hand? With her of all persons?! He had always said that he didn't like her that much! Was this just another level of his teenage rebellion phase? Better than the rest, anyway, but... Either he was finally taking after his father, or he was throwing himself away. Well, he had thrown his life away already!

She went into the hallway to see the beaming young couple, putting on her falsest smile. "Look who's there! Miss Parkinson!"

"Good day, Mrs Malfoy!"

The girl actually curtsied, and Narcissa bit her lips to stay serious, the more since she saw Draco's awkward grimace. "What a pleasure to have you here, Miss Parkinson. You'll stay for dinner, of course?"

The girl smiled radiantly, but Draco exclaimed quickly, "I reckon Pansy's parents will expect her to dine at home, mother."

"Oh, that's all right. They know where I am -"

"And if they didn't know, we could send them an owl," Narcissa said brightly. "It is so nice to have an addition for dinner. Isn't it nice, Draco dear?"

"Very nice, mother," he retorted defiantly, tightening his grip around the girl's shoulders.

"Miss Parkinson, have you any special wishes? Or allergies, perhaps?"

"Oh no, Ma'am - I'm fine. I eat everything - literally, everything. My mother keeps saying I was quite an omnivore."

Draco groaned under his breath, and seeing his mother grinning like a shark made it all the worse. She was pretty fussy about food, and Pansy's confession was bound to confirm every prejudice Narcissa Malfoy could have about her. 'Pigs are omnivores,' she used to say, 'and we are no pigs'. Meat of any kind was an absolute no go. Fish - oh well, a difficult matter. Conventional sugar - no way. Conventionally grown vegetables - inedible. Fast Food - despicable. And so on, and so forth. Pansy had just put her first foot in it.

Narcissa vanished for the kitchen, to order a very intricate meal with half a dozen courses. She was half aware that she misused the unfortunate girl to vent some of her bad mood, but it was worth it. She felt elated with glee, and ordered some of Draco's favourite dishes that were certain to puzzle little Miss Parkinson.

The ridiculously long dining room table puzzled her, too, especially because Narcissa had arranged for her and her son to sit at the ends, and their guest right in the middle, twenty feet away from anyone else. She goggled at the five different forks, the six knives and two spoons, but kept on smiling bravely. Maybe her seeming bravery was rooted in mere felicity, Narcissa thought, because she had made such a lucky, lucky catch today. The poor, deluded girl.

The soup at the beginning was easy enough, but then came lobsters for the youngsters, and by the time of the roasted chicken, little Miss Parkinson had used the slice of lemon in the finger bowl for the lobsters and looked both confused and bashful. Narcissa almost pitied her - almost - because every time she looked back at her son and this one's self-righteous expression, she couldn't care less whom she was taking her outrage out on!

"So, Miss Parkinson - what are you doing else way?"

"Else way, Ma'am?"

"Yes, you know - have you got any hobbies? Something to distract you from the boring school stuff?"

Draco shut his eyes for some seconds. Had his mother chosen this subject to humiliate the girl, and subsequently himself, or did she truly believe that Pansy could have anything useful to say on that head?

"I read very much!"

Narcissa had put on her most dangerous face - all sweetness on the outside, but a hard edge in her eyes. Draco had come to see this particular look a lot lately. She didn't bother to entirely keep the glee out of her voice either. "Oh, do you! So what's your favourite lecture then?"

"My mother's a great fan of Queen Maeve, Wenlock and Agrippa," Draco said quickly, hoping that Pansy would pick up that hint, but of course, she didn't. Instead, she beamed at his mother, twisting a strand of her hair.

"Witch's Weekly, naturally, and whenever I can, Teen Witch. So many useful tips, you know... Vanity Belle, Fair 'N' Fancy, and I'm trying to improve my French by reading French fashion magazines - I'd like to become as good as Draco, frankly!"

"I see," Narcissa replied with a little smirk. "Reading fashion magazines - a very wholesome reading, no doubt. Je suis très heureux ce que mon fils a trouvé une fille comme ça - très bien, Draco! Elle est - ah bon - elle est impressionnante, n'est-ce pas?"

"Laisse tomber, mum! She said she was very impressed, Panse," he groaned, shooting Narcissa a swift scowl. Pansy was too thick though to get the real meaning, alternating between gazing fondly at Draco, or admiringly at this one's mother.

"Any other interests, Miss Parkinson? Draco, for once, is very apt in potion-making."

"So am I, Mrs Malfoy! I have a knack for beautifying potions - it's such a shame that they weren't tested in our OWLs."

"Oh, absolutely. And what classes are you going to continue with, Miss Parkinson?" Narcissa asked remorselessly.

"Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology and Divination, Ma'am."

"That's not very much, is it?"

"Well..." The girl blushed. "I would have continued Potions, but Professor Snape will only accept an 'O', and I'm afraid I haven't got one."

"Pity. But Divination sounds tempting enough. Do you enjoy it?"

"Leave her alone, mother," Draco gnarled and glared over at her.

"But what did I do, darling? Have some more chicken, Miss Parkinson."

"Divination is fairly interesting indeed, Madam. I'm not very good at it - I've never predicted anything that's become true, but Professor Trelawney says it's okay. It takes years of steady practise."

"Oh, I'm sure! Or anyone could do it."

"Exactly! My grades weren't that good last term, because that centaur was - weird, you know. He didn't do it like Professor Trelawney."

"Yes, yes, those centaurs. Very peculiar creatures."

"Yes, I know! My father has worked for the Centaur Liaison Office until last week."

"Must be a very - busy - man, your father. What's he doing now?"

"He was promoted to the Goblin Liaison Office."

"Isn't that nice. Isn't it nice, Draco?"

"Excellent," he said through gritted teeth. "Pansy and me talked about this already."

In the end, he was unspeakably glad that the meal was over, and after taking Pansy to the only fireplace in the estate that was connected to the Floo Net in the dungeons, he furiously marched into the music chamber, slamming every door on the way only to annoy his mum.

"You must be so pleased with yourself, mother!"

She didn't stop playing, she didn't look up. "Is that so? I wonder why."

"Why the hell did you do that?"

"Language, darling."

"Come on! Tell me this! Does it give you any personal satisfaction to humiliate someone who has never done you any harm? Who's been nothing but polite to you, even admiring?"

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"You've made her look like a fool!"

Now she did stop and turned around to him with a serene smile. "I didn't make her look like a fool. She did that all by herself."

"Because she wanted to please you!"

"You better advise her to stop that habit then. It is enough if she pleases you."

"And she does please me, like it or not!"

"What is it going to be, dear? A spring wedding? Or perhaps Miss Parkinson ought to take a look at her crystal ball to determine the date?"

"Oh, shut up!"

She silently nodded and began to play again. He stared at her, at a loss for word, and when he turned on his heels to leave angrier yet than before, he heard her say, "One last thing, Draco - you want to make sure that she never sees your left arm."

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Potius... Better late than never!

Je suis... I am very happy that my son has found such a girl. Very good, Draco! She is - oh well - she is impressing, isn't she?

Laisse... Drop it!