Let Me Touch You For Awhile

~~~~~~~~~~

I know a way to make you smile.
Just let me whisper things,
You've never heard before.
Just let me touch you, baby.
Just let me touch you for awhile.

Let Me Touch You For Awhile
--Alison Krauss and Union Station

~~~~~~~~~~

Pansy paused to take a deep breath before she placed one satin shoe on the cobblestone walkway leading up to Malfoy Manor. She took her father's hand as he helped her out of the carriage, and as they walked arm-in-arm up to the huge, twin ebony doors, Pansy couldn't help being filled once again with the awe that the Manor never failed to inspire in her.

Pansy had never seen a structure of such architecture. The building the Malfoys called home had been standing for thousands of years, the ancient Roman design a testament to the Manor's age. It stood out in stark contrast to nearly everything Pansy had seen, save Hogwarts, though the Manor's design always took her aback in a way that the school never seemed to have the power to do. From the mammoth spires that stood up like dangerous spines to the faces of the gargoyles with their threatening expressions, Malfoy Manor always seemed to Pansy more like a being in itself than a landmark.

When she found herself and her father at the mouth of the beast, Pansy stood very still as her father pounded the huge door knocker and waited for an answer. "Good evening, Gabriel," came the jovial reply of Lucius Malfoy himself, reaching out to take her father's hand. "Good evening, Pansy dear," he bent and kissed her cheek like a loving uncle. "So nice to see you again, darling," he smiled genuinely down at her upturned face.

"Wonderful as always, Mister Malfoy," Pansy answered and hugged the man, unable to keep from smiling in return. She was ushered through the door and into the large anteroom, where two house elves quickly came to take their coats and scurried away again. The three then walked under a huge arch and into what looked like a small dining room.

Narcissa walked quickly to Pansy's father, offering her hand and exchanging pleasantries before kissing Pansy on the cheek, just as Lucius had, and gesturing to Draco and the empty seat next to him. Walking around to where Draco was sitting, Pansy looked down at the rich crimson linen cloth covering the table and the stark contrast it created with the milk white china that was laid out meticulously upon it. She was a little uncomfortable as she took her seat to the left of Draco without really looking at him. "Hello, Pansy," he said with a flat tone.

"Hello, Draco," Pansy replied, stealing a quick glance at him to try and gauge his mood before looking away again. His face was as flat as his tone had been. When she looked back, however, she saw a genuine grin spreading across his face. "It really is good to see you again."

Turning a little in her chair so that she could look fully at her friend, Pansy felt as though it were the first time she'd genuinely smiled in weeks. "It's been too long, Draco."

As Draco flashed his signature smirk, he said, "It's only been a couple of weeks, Pans. But you know what good it does me to see your face, so I can't say that I disagree."

"How have you been?" Pansy asked in a quiet voice.

"I've survived," he answered. "Things have been a little tense, as I'm sure you've noticed, but things have been relatively normal in the Manor. Of course he's been gone a bit more than usual," Draco looked casually toward his father, who was chatting animatedly with Pansy's father near the entrance of the Tea Room. "But I can't complain about that, now can I?" Draco finished, looking back at Pansy. "How is it at the Parkinson home?" he asked, helping himself to a biscuit and gesturing an offer to pour Pansy a cup of tea.

"Yes please," she answered, pushing her small china cup towards him. "It's been fine. Actually, judging by the way Father has been acting, you'd never know anything was happening at all. He's a little more on edge and busy, but I can't say that I mind that either."

"Good," Draco said thoughtfully, setting the kettle back down on its white saucer. "I'd have thought there would be more happening."

"Like what? Rallies and ritual sacrifice?" Pansy asked, unsure whether the image was more amusing than it was frightening.

Draco stared blankly back at her. "I don't know. Just something. I'd have thought that, after all this time with no movement at all, the kidnap and attempted murder of Potter would have been a bit more of a spring board, that's all," he said with an air of sarcasm. "It seems an awfully rash thing to do to be followed up by a great lot of nothing."

Pansy looked down into the deep brown liquid in her white cup and shook her head slowly. "I'm rather glad nothing's happened, personally. I don't like all the waiting and wondering, but I doubt I could take--" she cut herself off quickly as their parents joined them at the table and began pouring their tea. Draco just nodded pointedly before changing his expression completely and making small talk with Pansy's father about business and the weather.

***

Draco held the door open for Pansy as she walked out into the gardens of Malfoy Manor. Just as she was always awed by the facade of the Manor, the gardens took her breath away each time she walked through them. It was a cool clear July night and Pansy gazed at the expanse of blossoming green like a child in a dream. With Draco at her side, she strolled down a neat gravel path, lined with lanterns hanging in midair. The hazy light they threw cast the gardens in an ethereal glow that made the red, purple, yellow, blue and pink on either side of her dance as if enchanted. She was sure she'd never seen so many blooms in her life.

The pair followed the path farther into the gardens and then off to the right, where there was a small clearing covered with the natural canopy of a willow tree. Sitting down on the mahogany bench in the center of the clearing, Pansy quickly decided that this was her favorite place on the grounds of the Manor. Draco came and sat beside her and watched for a moment as she became lost in her own mind.

"What are you thinking of, Pans?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing," she answered, still staring out over the foliage.

"Pansy. How long have we known each other? How many times have you come here with your father for dinner? How many hours have we spent in these gardens?" He took her hand in his and she finally looked at him. "What are you thinking of, Pans?"

Sighing lightly, she blinked and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's just this whole thing, Draco. They tried to kill him."

"Yes, they did," he answered, laying his cheek against the top of her head. "But if it makes you feel any better, I try to kill him at least once a month. Bloody lucky prat."

"Draco," Pansy chuckled. "I'm serious. I hate him just as much the next decent, level-headed person, but they kidnapped him and tried to kill him. He's our age, Draco." He wrapped his arm around her. "It might have been one of our fathers out there. Probably was."

"Our fathers are not murderers," he said sternly, cutting her off.

"Are you sure of that?" she asked, voice quivering.

"Pansy--"

"What if they had? What if he hadn't got away, Draco? They would have killed him. They wanted to. That's why they were all there."

"Father said they were all Called after. They didn't know what was going on or why they were even being Called in the first place. It came out of nowhere for all of them," Draco countered.

"Yes. They were Called. Right before they started blasting Avada Kedavra at Potter while he tried to run away." Pansy took in a couple of shallow breaths as tears streamed down her face. "I don't want to live with a murderer, Draco," she whispered.

"Pans. It's not like that," Draco rubbed her bare arm where it laid across his lap. "Our fathers are good men. They're just standing up for what they believe in. Potter and the rest would do the same. You have to take a stand for what you believe."

"Do you believe in it, Draco?" she asked him, her voice a whisper.

Draco sighed heavily and let his mind drift back to where it had spent nearly every minute since the end of term. "I love my father. I am his only heir, and I will not let him down."

"You can't tell me that you honestly think all the Mudbloods deserve to die. Just because of who their parents are?" Pansy turned to look Draco full in the face for the first time since before they'd left the Manor. "That you deserve to die because of who your father is?"

"Following Him isn't a death sentence, Pansy."

"Are you sure about that either?" In answer, Draco just looked back out onto the gardens. "You know you don't want to follow Him, Draco. Why would you? You don't believe in all that "purge the wizarding world" bollocks. And when they all find that out, then what?" Pansy brought her hand up to Draco's face and turned it to look back at her. "I've been worried sick since that damned Third Task about what was going to happen to the people I love. My father. Yours. The people we go to school with. I don't want to lose you too."

"I'm not going anywhere, Pansy," he answered, his voice deep and full of emotion.

"Prove it," Pansy challenged him, another tear leaving a shimmering trail down her cheek.

Draco leaned closer to her and pressed his lips to her jaw where the tear still lingered. Pansy let her eyes fall closed and sobbed almost imperceptibly at the gesture. Draco moved to kiss her lightly on her cheek like his mother and father had done earlier. He lifted his mouth from her cheek, only to brush it against her own. She was unsure of how she ought to react, so she just sat there stunned while Draco wrapped his left arm around her back and pulled her closer to him, brushing a strand of her dark hair out of her face.

Pansy opened her eyes and her sight was filled with his gray-blue gaze, boring into her. All her mind seemed able to make sense of was those eyes and the sensation of his breath as it glided over her lips, sensitizing the nerves there in a way that she simply wouldn't be able to stand for very long. She couldn't be sure who had moved to close the short gap, but when they finally did come together in that first kiss, Pansy felt for the first time in weeks that she could breathe.

She opened her mouth so that she could better inhale the freedom and comfort--or at least the distraction--that Draco was offering her. His tongue slid slowly, tauntingly along the length of her bottom lip and she shuddered, tangling her fingers in the soft hair at the nape of his neck. Pressing her lips harder to his, she moved to have a better angle when he wrapped his other arm around her waist and lifted her up onto his lap.

Straddling Draco's lap on the bench, Pansy's hands went to work--almost without her mind realizing it--searching for Draco's smooth skin. They found where his black shirt was tucked into his trousers and she hooked her fingers just inside, running them lightly along the line of his waistband from his back to his sides, causing Draco to shudder deeply and bite Pansy's full bottom lip a bit harder than he'd meant to.

Pansy threw her head back and moaned heavily, grabbing the rich silk of Draco's shirt and pulling it fully out of his waistband and over his head. Draco took that moment to look up at her and smirk. "Damn you, Draco Malfoy," Pansy muttered, bringing her mouth down on Draco's neck. She couldn't see it, but she would have been pleased to have known that the smirk was wiped quickly from his face when she sank her teeth into the soft flesh of Draco's shoulder. "Teach you to smirk at me," she mouthed silently onto his skin. Draco let out a noise that Pansy would forever hold in her mind and, though she'd never tell him, she would hear it clearly every time she saw him smirk for years.

Draco's fingers went to work on the small jade buttons of Pansy's blouse and made quick work of them, even if he did rip open the last couple. He cradled her against him as he slid from the bench to the soft, damp grass beneath their feet. As he rested his entire body against hers, the searing hot sensation of the skin of his torso against her own made Pansy whimper softly and she attacked his mouth. She slid her hands down the taught skin and slim muscle that lined his chest until they paused when they once again found their way to Draco's waistband. After a moment of teasing and tickling the flesh just below his bellybutton, her hands crept lower over the heavy fabric of Draco's trousers and she ran a single finger down the length of the bulge she found there.

Letting out a feral growl, Draco ground his hips down into Pansy's and he dipped his head, licking a path from Pansy's collarbone, along her neck and to her left ear, which he nibbled enthusiastically. Pansy suddenly stopped her careful ministrations and moved her hands to either side of Draco's face. Bringing it in front of hers, she paused for a moment to stare into his eyes, dark and filled with lust.

After a moment of confusion and disappointment at the halt in the action, Draco looked back at his friend. Pansy could see the fire of passion fade slightly, and in that moment, Pansy found in Draco everything she'd been craving. Understanding, a kindred fear, the unconditional love of friendship, and tender reassurance. Draco swallowed unsteadily and lowered his mouth onto Pansy's once more. His lips and tongue brushed vows of sympathy, loyalty and support onto her own, and she thought she might drown in the love she felt for him in that minute.

From where she and Draco lay, making love on the grass in the gardens, Pansy could just barely see one of the lower spires of the Manor. She couldn't help but find it appropriate that Malfoy Manor was a cathedral many hundreds of years ago. Now, in Draco's arms, she felt as though she were confessing all of her sins in exchange for the promise that she would be saved.