The Way

Chapter Two ~ The Way You Hurt Me

*Pansy*

Draco and I were never betrothed, that is something I must make clear now. Our parents never sought that spontaneous idea of an arranged marriage; it wasn't either of their styles. They weren't that thick headed, and it would have been poor thinking. Parkinson's and Malfoy's never do anything associated with the word 'poor'.

That doesn't erase the fact that they did have high expectations for both of us. As it was with pureblood families, marrying only within our ring was essential; and I was the only daughter of a pureblood line that the Malfoy's thought worthy for their son. In their terms, that was the highest praise they could give.

I guess there was Blaise Zabini, but for some reason the Malfoys, all three of them, never had high regards for their surname. I guess it was the whole 'stalling-to-support-the-Dark-Lord' episode that lowered them on their list.

And don't think I wasn't apt to follow through with my parents wishes, because in all honesty I was. I wasn't taken with Draco Malfoy, I was infatuated. He was my first crush, and quite certainly, my only. From the moment he first spoke to me when I was seven I had thought of only one thing: never would there be another boy in my life than Draco Malfoy. A bit forward for a seven-year-old, but I am Pansy, and nothing was too forward for me.

But I never really knew if Draco felt the same way about me. In the years before we both turned eleven and were set out for Hogwarts, we were constantly in touch. Our parents would see each other almost every weekend and both our families held monthly balls in celebration for donations, for birthdays, for promotions and even for no apparent reason at all. During those times Draco and I spent fair time together, but he would soon go off with his friends Vince and Greg (or Crabbe and Goyle as Draco puts it), and I would be left on my own for neither Blaise nor Millicent Bulstrode would be there.

On those times, when we were at the Parkinson Manor, I'd go out onto the balcony and stand there for the rest of the night. Beside our manor ran the purest stream, and I'd almost fall asleep on the banister just listening to it. Other times I would wonder about the ballroom aimlessly, wishing I wasn't so lonely and that Draco would spend more time with me. He never did.

For our first three years at Hogwarts he barely paid me any attention. All of his interest was focused on famous Harry Potter. Draco was determined to out do Potter and his gang consisting of a Mudblood and wizard disgrace, but he never did succeed. In minor cases, maybe; but otherwise, he always lost.

And with his mind set on the Golden Trio of Gryffindor, there was no room left for thoughts of myself. It seemed our earlier three years of acquaintance were thrown into the sea, and I was nothing more than another face in his crowd.

It was quite depressing when it came to it.

But I played along, sneering with him as he insulted Potter; laughing with him as he humiliated Weasley; glared with him as he challenged Granger. In our third year I had almost lost myself in playing the trailing wench, crying after him when the hippogriff scratched him.

Yes, I admit it. It was only a scratch and nothing to be worried about. But I was so caught up in my façade that I actually believed he was in real danger.

Fourth year was the turn around year for him, however. Although there was that nasty event with Potter's name popping out of that silly goblet that got Draco steaming at the ears; but never mind that. There was another event that got him rather skittish however: the Yule Ball.

Now let's get one thing straight here, Draco wasn't exactly the apple of every girl's eye. I mean, he was gorgeous enough for the Slytherin taste, (and let's face it, for everyone's taste), but he wasn't exactly the sweetest pick of the orchard. To many he was just a grey-eyed, cynical boy with more money than he had a heart, and to others he was just a blatant little troublemaker. But to the rare few, he was a time bomb of perfection waiting to go off.

I was one of those rare few.

And of course, I was his friend, so it was only natural for him to ask me to the ball.

I didn't expect much, which was probably a good thing. First of all, we were both dressed horribly and second, my night was ruined when we both laid eyes on Granger. I was shocked for maybe only an hour while Draco stayed horrified all night. He was overflowing with the fury that someone as horrible as her could look so dazzling. He was smug all night and sat hunched over in his seat, drinking through butterbeer after butterbeer.

Oh, and could we please not count fifth year? That was nonexistence waiting to happen. He would barely look at me all that year, and when he did, it was to make sure I had my Inquisitorial Squad badge on. It was the entire 'the-Dark-Lord-had-risen-and-the-stupid-Ministry of Magic-is-unknowingly-aiding-him' charade that took up most of his time. I played along, naturally; and I wasted yet another year on this male glory I could not own.

But in the summer previous to our sixth year was a summer I'll never forget. And neither will Draco, for that matter.

Throughout fifth year, my so called 'love' for him began to wane, diminishing every time he looked at me with nothing more than a command on his lips. By the end of that year it was nothing more than a single flame that only a small bit of ignorance could extinguish. That small bit of ignorance came in the form of a bit of human intelligence; namely, Draco Malfoy.

Maybe I'm being bitter or maybe I'm finally speaking the truth. How about I leave that for you to decide?

Anyway, that last flame I held for him was burnt out on the train ride back from Hogwarts. I shared a compartment with him along with Millicent, Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise. Draco was exceptionally difficult on the way back home, considering he was in a bad mood over his father's sudden Azkaban imprisonment. Needless to say, the atmosphere in our part of the train was not happy.

He was silent when we both boarded the train, when we met in the Prefects compartment for only a little bit and all the way to where the others were situated. Upon entering, he settled himself closest to the window, leaning casually against it with his arms folded across his chest and an angered and bored look on his face. I took the seat across from him.

So we sat that way for quite some time, not one of our friends speaking due to their fear of Draco's wrath. When the food trolley and plump witch came by, Draco dismissed her before anyone could utter a word. It seemed that if he wasn't in any mood to eat, then no one else should.

"We all have the right to fill ourselves, Draco, even if you don't want to," I had said to him, causing Millicent to hold her breath at my daring of judging him. Millicent may have been a very large girl and very strong, but in truth, she was just a kindly girl with a heart so big it was a bit strange that she wasn't put into Gryffindor.

If you were thick enough, you would have to think of her as a Slytherin's Hagrid.

But to the point, she looked at me with a bit of admiration in her eyes at my sharp tongue. Draco, however, thought it not as highly as her.

"And who says so?" he snapped, gratefully glaring out the window and not at me. "My father always gave the inclination that, outside of our parents control, I would head all of our decisions."

Call me stupid, call me audacious, but I went for the heavy artillery.

"You're father is in jail, Draco," I shot back, the smallest inkling of pride welling up in me at my courage. Everyone else actually gasped at this though.

That was when he turned to face me, his eyes cold fire and fingers tightening a bit. I knew he was fighting the urge to strangle me, but I coaxed it by raising my chin defiantly at him. But his reaction was far more than I asked for.

"All right then," he said in a low hiss. "Crabbe, Goyle; go and find that trolley and bring back as much food as you can. Millicent, Blaise; go with them. You four better hurry, I suspect that witch will be down at the end of the train by now."

"B-but what about Pansy?" Blaise stammered, getting up and inching towards the door behind the others. "Can she come too?"

Draco stared at me thoughtfully for a while. "No," he finally answered, a menacing smile creeping onto his face. "She'll stay here with me. Don't worry Zabini; I'll keep her company."

The look in his eyes set shivers of dread down my spine.

"Okay then," Blaise fearfully replied, and then slid the door shut behind her.

Then it was only Draco and I. How many times had I imagined only the two of us alone in a train compartment? How many times had I wished that he would dismiss everyone else so he could be left with only me? Many times before, I can tell you. But now was not one of them, for I had hit him with the worst insult I could muster and had probably been left in the hands of a starving dragon. Excuse the reference of his name to his example, it was unintentional.

"So Miss Parkinson," he said after a while, saying my name in a way that made me want to cringe in disgust. "You think I'm out of control over Slytherins because my father is...unattainable?"

I breathed in deeply, choosing my words with much care and concentration. "No, Draco, you're not out of control, but you can't control us about everything," I said simply, leaning back against the seat. He was staring at me with narrowed eyes, and it made me very uncomfortable.

"Control over 'us', Pansy; or control over you?" he half-whispered, leaning forward. I definitely saw a glint of menace in his eyes as he rested his elbows on his knees and awaited my answer. But he said my name with a sense of breathlessness, which he knew would make me melt all over. I hated him for knowing me so well.

Yes, Draco knew I practically adored him; and at the moment, he was trying to use it to his advantage.

I could've killed him.

"What-...what do you mean by that?" I tried to answer coolly, angry that I had faltered in the beginning. Draco noticed my falter, and smiled at it.

"You know what I mean," he told me. Then he shifted forward in his seat, so that he was on the edge, moving closer and closer to me. Nervously I crossed my legs, just trying to do any form of movement to take away the attention of my blushing face. But of course Draco noticed; and he couldn't be more delighted.

"No, I don't. And frankly, I don't want to." I was very uncomfortable at that time, but the flame within me had just hit blazing and I feared if it was growing. Then, as Draco began to speak again, his hand began to absently play with my knee, hitting me with such a force that I actually pressed myself against the backrest from it.

"You know, out of all the things in my life the one that I like the most is you, Pansy," he said to me, looking at the floor and speaking in false thoughtfulness. I was only half-listening; all my attention was focused on his hand tapping my knee.

"Well...I-...I think I'm flattered," I said, trying to retain my upper hand. I was losing terribly.

"And if it came to it, that's saying quite a lot for you." Tap, tap, tap went his finger. "Do you know why I like you so much Pansy?" he asked. I looked up then, shaking my head slowly. He grinned at me. Then he got up from his position and came to sit next to me; very close next to me. Any closer and he would have been sitting on me. I'm pretty sure my heart skipped more than just a beat then.

But I was curious about his question and his sudden need for our closeness. "Draco, what are you doing?" I tried, but he would have no answering of my own questions. He had other things on his mind.

He snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me even nearer to himself. "I think I like you for a multiple of reasons. It would be so hard to name them all right now, but there are many." His other arm came up so he could run his cold fingers through my hair. I closed my eyes, almost wishing this wasn't happening. Key word there is 'almost'.

When I looked up at him again, however, his face was coming closer to mine by the second. I could feel his breath on my skin, tingling and light. Our first kiss. We were about to experience our first kiss; my first kiss.

And we were almost there before Draco ruined the moment...horribly, I might add.

"But of all of them," he concluded. "I like you most because, of all the challenges that have come my way, you are the easiest to conquer."

Then the flame died.

It did not flicker out and it did not slowly diminish, but went out as a bucket of water was overturned over it.

But Draco continued to lean in towards me and I would have none of it. I pushed my hand against his shoulder, stopping him. A bit confused, Draco stared at me, trying to decipher my face. Any idiot would have seen that I was angry and hurt; but he's not just any idiot. Draco Malfoy was a rich idiot, and those are the worst.

He had so much as called me 'easy', and in doing so taken my care and adoration for him and stomped on it.

I pushed up, using more force than necessary on purpose. Without a word and with every grave feature on my face genuine, I got up and headed for the door. I didn't have the need to cry; I never cried. Well, never cried truly. Sure I faked it a lot, but never have the tears been real. I thought for a moment they would come now, but I was glad when they didn't.

"Pansy, where are you going?" Draco asked, snatching at my wrist to stop me from leaving. I pulled my hand back instantly, looking back at him in disgust. And would you believe he was actually confused that I was leaving?

"I'm leaving," I said simply. I turned away from him, but he stood up and came to stand behind me, laying his hands on my shoulders and bending forward to whisper in my ear.

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy that," he hissed, making me want to leave that much more. "Because you know it would be a lie."

"You're only doing this because you're angry and depressed and you're looking for any way to take that anger out and use it to your advantage. That wasn't sincere, it was revenge."

I most certainly felt him smile evilly then. "And why would there be any other reason for me touching you?" he replied.

And that's when I left, never wanting to ever look back from that moment on.

Draco

First of all, let me tell you to save me your poor excuse for an evil glare and horrid lectures about my behavior. Just shut your mouth and believe me when I tell you I've felt the error of my ways.

Now, I know I was cruel to Pansy, starting from the train ride to Hogwarts in our first year and for the next four years to follow. And I am aware that I didn't really pay her the attention, let alone the respect that she deserved as a 'friend' of mine. But once again, all I can say in defense of myself is that I was a stupid little boy.

But I also know that no sort of explanation can excuse the way I treated her on that train ride back from Hogwarts.

I used her. I used her and I used her brutally. I was angry with my father going to Azkaban and I blew steam by using the weakness of probably the only person I have ever been nice to. It was cruel, it was merciless--I get the picture.

I wasn't in love with Pansy, but I was kind to her. Her first impression gained her my respect. Not many people can say that about me.

But my head was clouded and all I was thinking was that a good snogging would not make everything better, but at least numb the heat of anger in my veins. But when she denied me, I knew I shouldn't have pressed the matter. My last statement went much too far.

So when I got home I said nothing to my mother and went straight for my room. She never seems to care if I notice her or if she notices me. So in the privacy of my space I replayed that scene in my head over and over again; and every time I did I found something new that's wrong with it. Pansy was never mean to me. In all honesty, she had been my only real friend. Well, she was my only friend.

I felt like crap.

So to clear my surprisingly guilty conscience I changed out of my school robes, donned my usual traveling garb and snatched up a little black box and my leather gloves from atop my dresser. I left my room, headed downstairs, called to my mother that I was going out for a few hours and opened the box as I reached the door. Inside was a small piece of silver metal in the shape of a snake's fang. I took a deep breath and then turned the box over in my hand, dropping the Portkey into my open palm.

I wasn't sure what I was doing, but I felt this odd pang in the pit of my stomach and I guess it was some form or another of guilt. I knew that I had to resolve it and I knew that would only be accomplished when I made amends with Pansy.

When the Portkey halted I found myself in the entrance of Pansy's Manor. The grand staircase lay in front of me with its steps covered in green velvet and below my feet was the black marble I knew all to well. Our parents had created each of us a Portkey specified for one another's houses since the day we had met. I had never used it before hand, but it just went and showed how persistent our folks were about our relationship.

I pocketed the metal fang and removed my gloves; glad that I had worn them because the trip was an hour's broom ride from our manor and a very cold journey. Right when I had just begun to wonder why the house seemed so empty Mrs. Parkinson came walking in from the parlor at the left.

"Draco!" she exclaimed, dropping the book she had been holding onto the floor with a resounding thud. A stately woman with hair lighter than her daughter's, Mrs. Parkinson could make herself look very young, very motherly and very kindly. Oddly enough, she embodied every single one of these traits. Don't look at me; I've been wondering for years how she ever came to be a Death Eater.

"Hello Mrs. Parkinson," I said, attempting to smile politely but finding it much too hard in my current mood. "I'm sorry to drop in so unexpected and so soon."

"Oh no dear; that's quite alright," she had said to me, smiling genuinely and stooping to pick up her book. She wore a plain robe of simple silver, nothing too fancy and nothing too extravagant; the exact opposite of my mother. I think that's why I liked her better. "But you must be tired from your journey home from school this morning. Would you like anything to eat or drink honey?" she asked.

I cringed a bit at her reference of 'honey' towards me. My parents never extended the nicknames farther than 'son'.

"That won't be necessary Mrs. Parkinson. I'm not hungry. But I would like to talk to Pansy; is she here?"

The older woman ran a hand through her hair and looked up towards the staircase. "I think she's in the shower, Draco. But she should be out any second."

For some reason, I felt the heat rush up my neck at the prospect of Pansy in the shower. I quickly suppressed the thought before it became too vivid.

"Er-," I began, coughing a bit to try and take the attention off my flushing face. "Could I wait for her than? I really need to talk to her."

This seemed to delight Mrs. Parkinson very much. She loved that Pansy and I were such good friends. Honestly, this woman could have been leader of the rising Hufflepuffs. Even stranger, I did not hold that against her.

"Of course you can wait Draco. Go on into the parlor and I'll tell her you're here." And with a warm smile and nod of her head, she Apparated out of there to her daughter's bedroom. Breathing rather hard and rapid, I hurried into the parlor and slid the doors shut behind myself. The parlor was spacious yet cozy, consisting of one large fireplace on the long wall. Armchairs fill the room and shelves of books and albums lined the walls. A desk sat in front of the bay window to the far left and outside I could see that a summer shower had began to soak the ground.

Though it was warm in the room from the fire I did not remove my cloak; I was too busy trying to come up with a good apology in my mind. I had resorted to pacing the room so that when her voice said my name I turned around in surprise, completely caught off-guard and not, in any way, prepared for our encounter.