To Seduce a Serpent- The Diary of Pansy Parkinson
"Pansy," Mother said sternly, ushering me into her private chambers. The draperies were drawn, the only light coming from the three candles on the small table in the center of the room. She sat me on the edge of her bed and looked me in the eyes. "Lucius Malfoy has gone too far this time. I want you to seduce the boy. His parents will do anything to stop this, and we are going to take them for all they have." Her blood red nails shone in the soft light and she laughed chillingly, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. "They must pay for this, do you understand? You are going to bring the Malfoys to their knees."
The Day Before School Begins
The plan: Seduce Draco Malfoy and dump him. Bringing his family to their knees in the process
The reason: Lucius Malfoy, who has been making terrible deals with my mother for the past two years, has double-crossed her. This made her mad, so she plans to use me for revenge. Thanks Mother.
The problem: I fancy him, I have since the first time I saw him on the train.
I'm in deep shit.
Last night, the night before I'm to go back to Hogwarts, she ushers me into her room. "Pansy," Mother said sternly, "Lucius Malfoy has gone too far this time. I want you to seduce the boy. His parents will do anything to stop this, and we are going to take them for all they have." Her blood red nails shone in the candlelight and she laughed, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I hate the way my mother laughs. "They must pay for this, do you understand? You are going to bring the Malfoys to their knees."
I agreed to the plan, of course. What else was I supposed to do? She was doing everything short of tying me up and lashing me. She said, "That's my little girl, go on now and get ready."
I trudged out of her room and to my own. As soon as the door was shut and a pillow was secured in front of my face, I screamed. Sometimes she is the most outrageous woman in the world. I'm not 'her little girl' anymore, I'm not anyone's 'little girl anymore'! She refuses to understand that!
Trying to seduce Draco Malfoy is like setting your robes on fire and praying you don't get burnt. It's just not something one does if they want to stay alive. Many girls in my house have tried, all failing. I'm not sure he has even gone on a date before, let alone been with anyone. However, that's what makes him Slytherin's playboy; he's practically untouchable.
After my scream, I looked at myself in the mirror, making a list of my positive and negative attributes. I had to start trying to cover up the negative if this was going to work, and by the way Mother was looking at me, if this doesn't work, I'm dead.
My hair has darkened a bit (try to black); it's not as painfully dirty brown as it used to be. Thanks to the special starvation diet Mother put me on; I've lost quite a bit of weight. My pug nose hasn't changed, neither have my incredibly thin lips and my breasts haven't grown at all, but at least I can fit into a smaller robe size. I doubt Millicent Bullstrode can say the same. My skin doesn't have a bad texture, but that's something that can be fixed with a bit of magic, so it's not that big of a deal.
So, after that, I began packing. I could probably get the House Elves to do it for me, but I like putting things in my trunk. It's like locking a piece of yourself away from the rest of the world. After the standard items (schoolbooks, robes, my uniform, parchment, quills, etc.) I began the part I enjoy most. The packing of the pretty things.
Yesterday, I bought three dress robes. The first is silver, and the fabric is so light and silky it feels like you aren't wearing anything. The second is black, and the third it my favorite. It's dark green, and has several intricate hooks going down the front that are silver with emerald and ruby inlays. So, I folded those and carefully placed them in the pouch on the inside of the lid. Next comes my guilty pleasure: Muggle trousers.
I've worn dress robes, lace knickers, garters and other forms of torture devices invented in the name of beauty (by men, might I add) all my life. Muggle trousers, especially the ones they call sweatpants, are the most comfortable things ever. I never, of course, wear them when other people can see them. If Mother found out, she'd probably kill me. So, I shoved them to the bottom.
The next item has to be packed in absolute secret. Before I pulled it out of the box, I locked my door and drew my draperies. You never know what lengths my mother would go to control my life. So, after the necessary precautions were taken, I pulled the box off the top shelf of my closet.
Two years ago, I had to sit with Draco Malfoy, his two minions and Daphne Greengrass on the train. Draco left the compartment with Crabbe and Goyle to harass Potter, and Daphne fell asleep, leaving me to amuse myself. Draco had left his trunk open, and I 'accidentally' looked inside.
It was immaculately organized, obviously a House Elf's doing, and sitting on top was a white school shirt. On the collar, DM was embroidered in fancy blue stitch. Before I could stop myself, I grabbed the shirt and stuffed it in my bag. I had just gotten the trunk shut when he walked back in. His nose was bloodied, and his fist was cut up. He swore a bit, opened his trunk and took out a handkerchief. My face flushed, I thought he'd notice but he never did. Well, at least if he did, he never said anything.
The minute I opened the box I could smell him. I'd placed a preservation charm on it so the smell would remain even after I'd washed it. It was a clean, almost woodsy type smell. The spell kept it sharp, so it wafted off the shirt. I unfolded it, let the knot on my dressing gown loose and when it fell, I slipped the shirt on.
The bottom hits mid-thigh, and the material is thin, but it feels like heaven against my skin. I stuck my nose in the sleeve and inhaled. I love that smell. After my little break, I continued packing. The shirt was always the last thing I packed, after I wrapped it in a layer of enchanted paper and put several charms on it. I'm not about to let anyone know I have it, let alone tell him I stole it.
So, after everything was securely packed, I placed several charms on it and dragged it to my door. The House Elves will come and get it tomorrow, and the driver will unload it and help me wheel it to the train. Most students pack theirs away in a different car, but most of us (the Slytherins, that is) keep our trunks with us, for safety reasons, of course. Can't have any rowdy first years sneaking back and rifling through our things now, can we?
Alas, I forgot this little diary. Mother wants me to keep a log of how everything is going, but I'm having such fun confessing my dirty little secrets I might just have to lie to her. It wouldn't be the first time…
Pansy, but you can call me the future Slytherin heartbreaker
On The Train, Bored Out of My Wits
Mother woke me at four o'-bloody-clock this morning and demanded I begin to get ready for the day. After forcing me into a scalding hot tub of water, she went about, fixing my hair and face, instructing me on the 'proper' way to seduce a boy. She criticized everything about me, right down to the way I walk, and she wonders why I'm such an 'ungrateful little brat.'
The minute we stepped onto the platform, I saw Draco standing at the edge with his father. He had his head bent, listening as his father spoke. Lucius' face wasn't its usual pale, composed self, it was red and twisted. Draco's was calmed and composed, but he seemed deep in thought.
I hadn't realized how long I had been staring at him until Blaise Zabini crashed into me with his cart full of luggage. He, of course, shouted at me for being a sluggish pig or whatever he said. I'd learned to ignore Zabini a long time ago; actually, it was after he'd confessed he had taken a fancy to me in our third year. He tried to kiss me, I slapped him, he called me a frigid bitch, I ignored him, it drove him crazy and I learned if one ignores the self-proclaimed king of Slytherin, one could drive him crazy.
Of course, Mother was nowhere to be found during our exchange of profanities.
As he was rounding the 'frigid bitch' part of the shouting match, a stern voice from behind me called, "That's no way to talk to a lady, is it Blaise?"
I knew immediately whose voice that was. "Hullo Draco," I replied, plastering a smile on my face as I turned around. "Fancy seeing you here." Actually, it was great seeing him again because he had filled out a bit, if you catch my drift. He was a few inches taller, immaculately dressed, per usual, and just as devastatingly handsome as he had been last year. Only better looking. And judging by the looks he was getting from others in the female population, I wasn't the only one who thought so.
He smirked back. "Fancy seeing you here. Haven't been doing anything dangerous of late, have we? What after the broom incident, I've been afraid to let you near one by yourself."
I blushed, recalling how last year I had made a complete idiot of myself by getting on a broom during Christmas break. I had little experience with it, so I managed to fall off, into a snow bank. My robes had hitched up, flashing my knickers to everyone. It was horrible, and since this day, he has never let me live it down. "Don't blush so," he whispered, his lips dangerously close to my face. "I rather enjoyed the show." He straightened himself up and walked on, as if nothing had happened.
I, however, didn't recover as quickly. It felt as if my skin was on fire, and my breathing got a bit short. No one, luckily, seemed to notice.
I hauled my things onto the train, careful to not scratch the polish on my trunk. I can't have my things looking like Weasley's. Speaking of him, he's grown another four inches or so. I doubt he can fit through the door anymore. I didn't see Potter anywhere, but it's not as if he's going to miss his last year. He's probably moping around some place. As if I care. I saw the bushy haired sidekick too, Granger. Apparently she's Head Girl, and she was waving her badge around in front of Weasley in a rather disgusting display of 'I'm better than you so listen to me'. Ugh, I always told myself I'd die the day that Muggleborn became Head Girl, but yet, here I am, complaining about it. I'm still alive. Damn.
So, after seating myself in the usual compartment, I was joined by Daphne Greengrass and Victorie Flint. We chatted about our summers (Daph went to Paris with her mother, she wrote me all summer complaining about how many Muggles she'd seen sauntering around like they owned the place) and equally bitched about how unforgiving our parents are. When the train started to move, Daphne left for the lavatories, leaving me with Victorie.
She's a sixth year, and Marcus Flint's younger sister. She's inherited the better looks in the family, though, because she doesn't have the hook nose or deep set eyes. I've never really paid much attention to her, but after five minutes alone with her, I know why. She's horribly, horribly boring. I mean, I almost died listening to her rattle on about her pet rabbit and how it ate her school robes last year.
Half way through her epic, Draco and idiots one and two popped in. Draco had his school robes on, and that's when I realized he was Head Boy this year. "Head Boy?" I mouthed as Victorie began to retell the story to Crabbe and Goyle. They were fascinated by it, go figure. I guess simple minds think alike.
He pointed at the badge and smirked. "I've got to work with Granger though, it's a shame they didn't give it to a Slytherin girl. They're so much easier to work with." He was whispering, so I had to lean in closer to hear him. "How was your summer?" he asked suddenly. "I assume you heard our parents are in a fight?"
"Yes," I replied, my voice as soft as his. "I'm supposed to stay away from you," I lied, trying to cover the blush creeping up my neck. Damn my fair skin.
"Me too," he confessed, grinning wickedly. "But when's the last time you listened to your parents?"
I didn't respond, I didn't feel it necessary, because the moment he said it, I knew he was only here because it would upset his father. That made me angry, for some reason. I knew his motive, and while him being around me would be useful for the plan I was to execute, it made me nervous. I don't know why.
He left awhile ago, claiming he had Head duties to perform, but Crabbe and Goyle are still listening to Victorie. She's thrilled to have an audience with a lower IQ than herself. Blaise and Daphne went off somewhere when they realized Victorie wasn't going to shut up, and I'm so bored, I'm half tempted to stab her with this quill and get it over with. I need to find some better friends (at least ones that include me in their escape plans) and the food cart. That starvation diet is over once I find it, let me tell you…
Pansy, Queen of Chocolate Frogs and Pumpkin Pies