One Thing

Chapter 11

Pansy Parkinson was not a stupid girl. Despite what some people might have thought about her, she was actually quite intelligent, and she was definitely not infatuated with Draco Malfoy. He pretended to court her to keep their parents happy. As long as Mrs. Parkinson received superfluous letters that gushed of romance and young love, they were both free to date whomever they wished. And whatever gender they wished. They both found this very convenient. But Pansy, not being stupid, noticed things, and saw it as her privilege as Draco's "girlfriend," to know whom he was dating and how serious the relationship was.

"Draaaaaaco..." She had, over time, perfected her whine, and knew exactly how it grated on her best friend's nerves. "Pleeeeeeeease? I swear I won't tell anybody!"

Draco snorted. As much as he loved Pansy and would walk through fire for her, he didn't trust her as far as he could throw her. Although, perhaps that was a bit unfair. He did trust her to not go running to his parents with his tales of sodomy and impropriety, but he didn't necessarily trust her not to go running to Millicent, her other best friend.

And then there was the nagging. As soon as he told her he was dating Harry, she would be asking him all sorts of or irritating, embarrassing questions: When's their anniversary? What's he getting Harry? Why isn't he nicer to Harry in public? Who's on top? All of these questions he'd rather avoid. Who was he kidding? He just liked knowing something she didn't. He'd let her wait a little longer. Again, who was he kidding?

"All right, I'll tell you," he said, smiling like a schoolgirl with some good gossip. He jumped up, grabbed her hand, and dragged her to the common room door. He'd tell her in private. This was not the sort of the thing he wanted to be overheard. People would probably just think they were off to shag somewhere. (As if.)

As soon as the door closed Pansy rounded on Draco.

"Well?? Who is it??"

"Are you ready for this?" Draco asked eagerly.

"Of course I'm ready! Just sodding tell me already!" Draco gave a short dramatic pause.

"...Harry Potter." Silence. Pansy just stood there for a full ten seconds. Then she slapped him. "Oy!" Draco shouted. "What was that f--"

"How dare you?!" she interrupted shrilly. Draco was confused. He thought he'd best wait for her to elaborate. She did. "How dare you get me all excited, drag me all the way to your bloody room, and then not tell me?! I am your best friend! Why is it such a big deal for you to tell me?! Must everything with you be a joke?!"

Ah. There it was.

"It's not a joke, Pansy," he said calmly, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her expression went from anger to suspicion, but apparently she recognised the truth in his words, because her expression then went to shock, and eventually settled on vaguely ill. "Maybe you should sit," Draco said nervously. He hoped she wouldn't hate him. After all, she wasn't exactly a member of the Gryffindor Fan Club. He held his breath.

What are you going to do?" she asked quietly.

"What do you mean? What am I going to do about what?"

"About your father! If he finds out, he'll have Potter killed! And probably you, as well." She was getting hysterical.

"Pansy," he began, as if speaking to a very small child. "If the most powerful dark wizard in the world has been trying to kill Harry for sixteen years without success, I doubt my father will be able to touch him." He was confident that he'd spoken the truth. Of course his father couldn't get to them. They were at Hogwarts. Everything was perfect.

"And you?" Pansy challenged.

"I can look out for myself," Draco replied boldly. Now it was Pansy's turn to snort.

"You know what's going to happen. Don't you, Draco? When it comes down to it, it's going to be up to Potter to protect you. Do you want that?" She waited for a retort but Draco gave none. "But hey," she went on casually, "he's been protecting the whole world since he was born, right? What's one more charge? What's one more deranged killer bent on assassinating him? One more straw on the camel's back?" She said all this very slowly, letting it take effect.

Draco sat down, dropping his head into his hands. Pansy watched as the wheels slowly began to turn. She knew his thought pattern well. He was weighing consequences, contemplating possible alternate courses of action, debating their viability. He thought about everything in a rational, businesslike manner. He saw the universe in terms of loss and gain; risk and opportunity. She was confident that Draco would come to the logical conclusion that his and Harry's relationship couldn't last. She knew that he'd end it now, to save himself (and Harry) his father's wrath. Draco lifted his head, a look of resolution on his face. Pansy smiled smugly, knowing that she'd won.

"He can't scare us." His voice was firm, full of dignity and righteousness. There was a fire in his pale eyes that was unknown to Pansy. It scared her. She fought to hold eye contact, but failed. She realised then that Draco was not the boy she'd known. The old Draco wouldn't have cared enough about anyone to risk his own safety. The old Draco would have shrugged insolently and said something smart like, "Easy come, easy go," (lewd pun very much intended,) and walked away. And the old Draco definitely wouldn't have defied his father. Pansy knew, now, that the new Draco was not hers. He had been changed by Potter, and now belonged to him. And this angered her. But for some reason, she was too scared to express her anger. She just shook her head in bewilderment, and then turned to leave.

"Pansy," Draco commanded, effectively halting her in her tracks. She looked back at him over her shoulder. "You will tell no one of this," he stated firmly. She nodded. Then she was gone.

Draco sat down on his bed and took a deep breath. This was going to be hard. The full weight of the situation finally settled in around him and he felt very disappointed. He had to get out. He had to go find Harry. He got up to run to Gryffindor Tower, but when he opened the door, an owl swooped in. Draco turned around and allowed the owl, (obviously a school one,) to land on his arm. He opened the scroll, which turned out to be a note, from Professor Snape.

Draco,

Please report to my study at once.

Professor Snape

Draco immediately wracked his brain, trying to think of anything that he could have possibly done to deserve a visit to his head of house's office. He couldn't think of anything, and shrugged, leaving to see Snape.

When the young Slytherin student reached his teacher's door, he knocked hesitantly, feeling slightly on edge. The door opened momentarily to reveal not Snape, but Lucius.

"Father?" he asked in shock. Then it hit him. Dumbledore must have broken his word. He must have owled Draco's family and informed them of Draco's problem. But then, why hadn't he been called to the Headmaster's office? He was pulled out of his reverie by Professor Snape.

"I'll just excuse myself, then," he said smoothly and left, shutting the door behind him. Lucius turned and cast a locking and silencing spell on the heavy oaken door. Draco backed up instinctively, his pulse picking up straight away. He knew his father, and that was decidedly not a good sign.

"Enlighten me, Draco," Lucius addressed his son in a quiet, calm manner, something that frightened Draco beyond belief, "as to just what you thought you were doing. Did you think I wouldn't find out? Did you think that I would do nothing? That I would sit idly by whilst my son destroyed his life? What's the matter my dear boy? Cat got your tongue?"

Draco shuddered compulsively. This made Lucius snap. He pushed Draco violently back into the chair that was conveniently enough, located directly behind him.

"How could you do this to me?" the older man demanded. "Force me to find out from a close family friend that my own son," his voice was rising with every silable, "is having...relations with none other than Harry Golden Boy Potter, enemy of our Lord?!" Draco was gob-smacked. His mind worked quickly. "Family friend" meant death eater, and death eater meant Mrs. Parkinson, which meant that Voldemort probably knew by now. Draco panicked. That was bad; very bad. Lucius read him like a book. He always could.

"Oh, never fear, my son. I've made your excuses for you. But this will not continue. I will not allow you to throw your life away, the money, the power, everything, to trade it all for one thing! One senseless infatuation! I won't have it! Do you hear me?!"

Lucius looked slightly deranged, now, but Draco wasn't worried. Somehow he had the strength to say, "No." Lucius was incensed.

"Excuse me?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

"No," Draco replied, equally quiet, but far calmer. "It's not a senseless infatuation, and it's not one thing. He's everything." Draco's voice had escalated to a commanding reverberation, and he had risen to his feet.

Lucius was suddenly faced with the fact that Draco obviously cared deeply for the Potter boy, perhaps even loved him. He dared not think it. Draco had turned to leave, but Lucius's words stopped him cold.

"Very well. I will inform the Dark Lord." Slowly, Draco turned back to face his father. "Ah, I have your attention now, I see. Well, let me present you with some interesting questions which I expect you've not bothered to think through. For example, what are you going to do when the Dark Lord does away with Potter? You will be devastated. Also, which side will you choose in the war that is ever threatening to break out? What do you think Dumbledore will do when he finds out his precious protégé is fornicating with the son of a death eater?"

That did it. That sent aco over the edge. He struck his father across the face, and his force was multiplied tenfold by magic, sending Lucius flying backward and slamming into the wall. Professor Snape, being on the other side of that wall, in bed, felt the vibration. Lucius's silencing charms had not accounted for that. He immediately stood and went to investigate and possibly resuscitate. He found the door to his study locked, and when he tried the handle, magic shot through his hand and up his arm as though he'd stuck his finger in a muggle electrical socket. He pulled his hand back immediately and pulled out his wand. He tried to open the door magically with no success. There were very powerful charms placed on this door.

Meanwhile...on the other side of the door...

"WE ARE NOT FORNICATING! HOW DARE YOU EVEN SUGGEST THAT!? HARRY IS NOT GOING TO LOSE TO VOLDEMORT! HE'S GOING TO BEAT HIM, JUST LIKE HE HAS DONE REPEATEDLY OVER THE LAST SIXTEEN YEARS!" When he was done screaming in his father's face, he released him, backing away slightly and letting his vital signs return to normal. He was about to turn and flee when Lucius's voice once again halted him.

"Well then what do you think will become of you? You can't switch sides now, Draco, it's too late. You can't have a foot planted in both camps. It's one or the other, and everyone here knows what side it's going to be. You're in Slytherin for a reason. You are a Malfoy. And Malfoys are dark. Accept it. It's your destiny."

The words hit Draco like a freight train. He knew they were true. As far as the world was concerned, he was dark. He was a death eater. They would never accept that he'd changed. He would be thrown in Azkaban. Harry wouldn't be able to vouch for him. Who would believe him? And besides, he didn't want Harry to have to do that. It would ruin him, if people found out about them. He couldn't do that to Harry.

I know what I must do.