Rating:
R
House:
Astronomy Tower
Characters:
Draco Malfoy
Genres:
Romance Angst
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Stats:
Published: 08/28/2002
Updated: 02/26/2003
Words: 36,018
Chapters: 27
Hits: 17,987

Save Yourself

LanaMariah

Story Summary:
A story told through the eyes of the Slytherins we love to hate: An arranged marriage between Pansy and Draco forces the taboo ship together. Throughout seven dark years and a lifetime, will they learn to love one another, even though love is a sin in the eyes of the betrothed? A story of love, loss, and the ultimate betrayal. In which Pansy is not a ditz and Draco isn't a jerk--at least not to the people he loves. Question is, will she become one of them?

Chapter 18

Posted:
11/27/2002
Hits:
486
Author's Note:
New chapter... yay. I had a meeting with my publicist today, and it went much better than I thought it would. I also got the final proofs for my novel today, so I have a job to do over the weekend... *sigh* Anyway. Enjoy chapter. Next to come are gonna be interesting.

Chapter Eighteen - The Beautiful Ones

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One week later, Draco and I found ourselves back on the Hogwarts Express, this time heading back to the wizarding school for the second term. We waved goodbye to his parents as the train departed, our hands clasped and grim expressions on both our faces. Lucius Malfoy had owled Professor Snape the day before, explaining the situation, and had requested that no one else, save Professor Dumbledore, know. Our wish for a separate room away from the other Slytherins was granted, although was only applicable during the last few months of our sixth year at Hogwarts.

As the train departed from the platform, I stretched out across the bench seat in our otherwise empty compartment, laying my head in his lap. Almost unconsciously, his fingers began to play with my long dark hair even before words were spoken between the two of us.

”Do we tell anyone?”

The question came in the form of his words, but was also weighing heavily on my mind. I had been considering the different possibilities for quite a while now, but I hadn’t the courage to voice my opinions before he had asked.

”No,” I stated quietly, listening to the harsh sounds of the train’s wheels. “There’s too much of a risk involved… I don’t want your reputation tarnished, nor do I want Blaise to even think about getting any ideas.”

”If she does anything…” Draco paused for a moment, his gray eyes distant. “I’ll kill her.”

I sighed, knowing his words to speak more than his actions ever would. “She’s too cowardly to try anything, don’t worry. Besides, I have to believe she respects marriage, no matter how much she hates me.”

”I hope so,” Draco spoke quietly, his eyes now gazing into my own. “My father once told me there was little pride and respect in being a Slytherin to all of those who never realized pride and respect was what Slytherin was all about. I never knew what he meant by that until the first time Potter and Weasley taunted me about being one.”

”What does it mean?” I asked sleepily as my eyes started to slowly close.

”It means even if no one else understands what we feel, as long as we still have pride and respect for what we do, it doesn’t matter. It means that even if no one else understands or approves of why the two of us are together and why we’ve made the decisions we have, it is insignificant as long as we have pride in everything we do, respect in each other, and thankfully love one another for who we are and what we will become.” He took in a deep breath, his eyes still locked on my own. “It doesn’t matter was Blaise says or does; we are true Slytherins, and in being so, we come first, not some Irish half-blood whore.”

I grinned in spite of myself, tracing a pattern on the palm of his hand. “She’s a half-blood, is she? She always insisted she was a pureblood.”

”Her family, back in Voldemort’s first reign, was targeted immediately after the Potters were. I’m sure she doesn’t know this—only a select few were chosen to go through with the murders, and no one else ever found out.”

”So your father is a Death Eater,” I said quietly, not at all surprised in his admittance. “Do you plan on following in his footsteps?”

”No,” Draco spoke firmly, squeezing my hand and turning his head to gaze out the window. “I promised you I would never become one of them, and I intend on keeping my word. If you or”—he turned back towards me and reached out to touch my stomach lightly—“our children are ever threatened, however, I will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety.”

”As will I,” I promised, sleep finally winning as I closed my eyes and fell into a deep oblivion.

That night, as we ate a large dinner in the Great Hall, Draco and I spoke only to one another, ignoring the inquiries of our housemates. Once Crabbe and Goyle failed to receive an answer from their leader’s lips, the rest soon realized they were even less likely to succeed.

What followed was a routine we had both done countless times before, yet that night was the first time we dared to notice. We sat in front of the fire, in one of the best chairs, curled up together and staying perfectly silent. Few words were required between us, and even as cliché as it sounds, I could tell what his every thought was. It may have been the intense amounts of magic flowing between us or the addition amount supplied to me from our child, but as we sat there, a sort of radiance of power overcame us, making each student in the common room glance our way in awe at least once during the night. Together, we were powerful, and together, we knew it.

It was well past midnight when the two of us finally stood from our comfortable seat, tired and more than willing to go to sleep. The question hung between us, however, one that should have been simple to answer:

Should we act as all married couples and sleep in the same bed, assured by the other’s presence, or should we remain as most students would: separate only when not having sex?

Draco answered the question rather abruptly, taking my hand in his and leading me up towards his own dorm, where Crabbe, Nott, and Goyle lay, hopefully sound asleep. My trunk, by the instructions from Professor Snape, had been placed in the boy’s dormitories and two beds had—rather discretely—been pushed together, forming a large one that comfortably fit the two of us. It had been shoved into a corner, so the size was not evident upon first inspection.

Before I fell asleep that night, I allowed Draco to place his hand once more over his son, one who was now almost three months along. I thanked God he hadn't taken the news as I believed he would, and as I lay there that night, I felt truly at peace with the world for the first time in what had to have been far too long.
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