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Gossip Circle
Loosely based on the Gossipgirl series by Cecily von Ziegesar.
All characters belong to J.K Rowling, except for the Avenaris' and the McCandless’, which belong to me and a friend.
Draco brushed back platinum blonde locks out of his eyes and swigged his father’s vintage scotch from the crystal tumbler in his hand. He was already on his third glass.
“What channels did you watch?” Theodore asked, removing a stray strand of hair from Draco’s black cashmere vest.
“Who cares?” Draco growled, stamping his foot. He was wearing new black converse.
“The point is, I was trapped in my room all morning because they were very busy having a gross romantic breakfast in the matching green silk bathrobes. They didn’t even take showers.” Draco took another generous gulp of his drink. The only way to tolerate his father sleeping with another man was to get drunk – very drunk.
Luckily, Draco and his friends came from the kind of families for whom drinking was as common as blowing your nose. Their parents believed in the quasi-European idea that the more kids have access to alcohol, the less likely they would abuse it. So Draco and his friends could drink whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, as long as they maintained their grades and looks, and didn’t embarrass themselves or the family by misbehaving in public. The same went for everything else; as long as you kept up appearances, it was alright.
The man Draco was so upset about was Severus Snape, his father’s long time boyfriend. At that very moment, Severus Snape was standing on the other side of the living room greeting the dinner guests. He looked like a large bat that hadn’t seen sunlight in days. His hair was always greasy and he had an abnormally large nose that you couldn’t help but gawk at while looking at him. He was a quiet man, and very polite to both Draco and Lucius. But he wasn’t Draco’s mother. Last year, Draco’s mother left to go back home to Europe, when she found out that her husband had been cheating on her with another man.
No kidding. Narcissa Malfoy walked in on her husband, Lucius and Severus Snape having sex in their master bedroom. She left that night, all of her designer shoes and purses with her. It was the highlight of the year; nobody could stop talking about it.
Of course, Draco did not really like his mother; she was cold hearted, and never seemed to act as though she loved Draco. None of this was Severus Snape’s fault, but as far as Draco was concerned, Severus Snape was a slimy, foul git.
But tonight, Draco was going to have to tolerate Severus Snape, because the dinner party his father was giving was in Snape’s honor, and all the Malfoy’s family friends were there to meet him: the Zabini’s, with their son Blaise; the Avenaris’, with their twin daughters, Mioré and Myzie; the Nott’s with their son Theodore; The Parkinson’s, and their daughter Pansy; and the McCandless’, with their daughter Constance. The only family that would not be coming was the Grangers, whose teenage daughter, Hermione was currently attending school.
Draco’s parents were famous for their dinner parties, and this was the first one since the divorce. The Malfoy penthouse had been expensively redecorated that summer in deep greens and cool grays, filled with antiques and artwork that impressed anyone who knew a thing or two about art. In the center of the dinner room there was an enormous silver bowl full of white orchids, French lilies, and chestnut tree branches. Gold-leafed place cards lay on every porcelain plate. In the kitchen, Winky the cook was singing Bob Marley songs to the soufflé, and the sloppy English maid, Dobby, hadn’t poured scotch down anyone’s dress yet, thank God.
Draco was the one getting sloppy. And if Severus Snape didn’t stop harassing him and his girlfriend, Pansy, he was going to have to punch his lights out.
“You and Draco have been dating for quite some time, correct?” Severus said to Pansy, tapping Draco the shoulder. He was trying to get Draco to relax. It wasn’t working.
“Have you two… fornicated together?” Severus asked, shifting uncomfortably.
Draco turned redder than the tomato sauce decorating the smoked salmon in from of him. “W-Well, we’ve known each other since we were practically born,” he stuttered. “But we’ve been dating for like, a year. We don’t want to ruin it by, y’know rushing, before we’re ready?” Pansy was just repeating the line that she always gave Draco when he asked her if she was ready to do it or not. But she was talking to her boyfriend’s father’s boyfriend. What was she supposed to say, “Dude, if Draco had it his way, we’d be doing it right now”?
“Absolutely,” Severus said, he clasped Draco’s shoulder with a bony hand. He was wearing some robes that looked the ones he usually wore, only made of silk. They gave him more of an eerie appearance, sitting there amongst all of the colorful fabrics and silks at the table.
“Let me give you some advice,” Severus told Draco, as if Draco had a choice, “Don’t listen to a word that girl says. Surprise her.”
Draco nodded, frowning. He tried to remember the last time he had surprised Pansy. The only thing that came to mind was the time he had given her an ice cream sundae when he went to pick her up at her tennis lesson. That was nearly three months ago, and that was a lame surprise by any standard. At this point he and Pansy might never have sex.
Pansy was one of the girls that you look at and while you’re looking at them, you know they’re thinking that guy can’t take his eyes of me because I’m so hot. And Pansy was proud to be looked at; very conceited and loved all the attention on her.
That night Pansy was wearing a pink frilly dress that hugged all of her curves. Draco had complemented her on the dress once, and now she wore it whenever possible. So last season, Draco thought, eyeing the dress with obvious distaste. While it was true that they had known each other since birth, Draco knew he didn’t love her; he’d known for a good two years now.
“I love you,” Pansy had told him breathily after he had given her the comment.
“Me too,” Draco had said back, lying through his teeth.
When Draco had said that, Pansy wanted to scream and throw all of her clothes off and have him take her virginity right there. But it seemed unattractive to scream in the heat of the moment – more femme fatal then girl-who-gets-boy – so Pansy kept quiet, trying to remain fragile and innocent in Draco’s arms. They had kissed for along time, cheeks flushed from the cold and the heat of the room. Draco intertwined his fingers in Pansy’s hair and pulled her down onto the bed. Pansy had let Draco being to undress her, until she had realized where this was heading, and it was real. So, like a good girl, she sat up and made Draco stop.
Draco hadn’t offered since then, and Pansy wasn’t offering to do it anytime soon. That is until two nights ago, when Pansy had come over drunk after a party with a half-empty flask of brandy in her hands. She had come onto to Draco, feeling him up before whispering in her sexiest voice, “I want you, Draco.” By this point, that Draco knew he didn’t love her, and, before he did something he would regret, he carried her into the guest bedroom next to his, and tucked her into the covers, scribbling a quick note just in case she forgot what happened.
Draco had offered, and Pansy had denied it. Simple as that. No one refuses Draco Malfoy, so he never offered again. And, yet, he never broke off their relationship, even when Pansy had started complaining to him in letters over the summer of how they never spent time together. Pansy was at the hell that was called a tennis camp; Draco was sent to France to spend the summer with his mother. Draco had lied and told Pansy that he left his phone at home and that his mother didn’t want to pay for the long-distance charges that it would cost to phone New York. So, letters were the only option, considering Draco had ‘forgotten’ to mention to Pansy that his mother had a computer with high-speed internet.
Draco knew that Pansy was ready to have sex, that she was determined to prove that she loved Draco. Pansy was waiting for the month that she would turn seventeen.
And she was tired of waiting.
Draco looked at Pansy, seeing the wheels turning in her head, planning how she would court him and then they would proceed to have mind-blowing sex.
Oh yeah, she was definitely ready.
Um.. sorry for the lack of update on Someone Like You, I'm really not sure what else to post there...
Yea... Forgive?
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