Title: Pureblood Duty
Pairing(s): Theodore Nott/Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson
Beta: leigh_adams and aigooism
Word Count: 5893
Warnings/Content: Angst. Infidelity. Swearing. Fingering. A teeny tiny bit of non-con. Post-war.
Summary During the war, Pansy found someone she could rely on when she wasn't even looking. However, her parents –in an attempt to recover the privileges pure-bloods had lost with Voldemort's defeat- had different plans, arranging her marriage to Draco Malfoy.
A/N: Originally written as a gift for alley_skywalker on wizard_love . What a challenge! I tried my best with these characters. I'm not very familiar with them. I like to believe Pansy does have a heart somewhere inside of her; she just needs someone to break the hard crust to see it. :) She asked for angst, unrequited love, complicated relationships, jealousy, romance, fluff, cuteness, pureblood courtship, balls, "traditional" femininity, school sweethearts v "grownup" relationships, snogging over sex. Based on the prompts suggested: "Pureblood Courtship" and "Beauty Queen of only 18 / She had som problems with herself / He was always there to help her / She always belonged to someone else" -"She Will Be Loved" – Maroon 5
Ah, the privilege of being a pure-blood! That sense of royalty in a world where nobility was nothing but an unspoken knowledge. Wealth, superiority and power entitled to someone just because they were born into the right family.
The Dark Lord's death had meant fewer privileges and more struggles for Purebloods. They now had to fight for that respect because of their affiliation. Harry Potter and his gang had changed that, taking away their sense of superiority their ancestors had already fought for. However, most of them weren't going to let that happen. Preserved by what others could only refer to as frivolity, these pure-bloods held onto that fantasy of superiority.
The Malfoys took charge of recovering that lifestyle of balls, courting and convenient marriages, leaving behind a time when Lucius spent months in Azkaban and Draco failed to fulfil the task the Dark Lord had planned for him. Nowadays, people could only hope to become closer to the Malfoy family, and fathers would offer their daughters to be the next Mrs Malfoy, in hopes of receiving the economic and social security few pure-bloods would ever again have.
Pansy barked a disbelieving laugh. "Do you actually believe setting me up with Draco will make things as they were, Father?"
"Pansy-" her mother started with a warning tone, eyeing carefully at her husband as he clutched the marble over the fireplace so hard his knuckles turned white.
"Marital unions were what made us who we are now, young lady. Have you not seen the wild racket that ignoring them has created? All those half-blood wizards and Mudbloods wandering around, belittling all our effort to achieve a clean, pure-blood society. And not to mention those blood-traitors. I cannot decide who are worst, since they were the source of all this."
"Our effort?" Pansy repeated in a whisper. "Our? What have you done in order to believe yourself worthy of taking part of that 'our'?" she said, narrowing her eyes and silently challenging her father to confess his fear of having a remote relationship with any Death Eater other than the expected political one.
Mr Parkinson turned to look at her daughter. His eyes were spitting the anger he had not let get to his voice until then. "I will not allow this-"
"May I ask, why are you opposed to this, Pansy?" her mother interrupted, sensing how the discussion between her daughter and husband would end. "I thought you were fond of Draco. He has been your friend for so long... and let's stop pretending I was never aware of your closer relationship with him as you grew older," Mrs Parkinson said, looking intently at Pansy with her piercing blue eyes.
Pansy's gaze turned to the floor. "That was more than two years ago, Mother," she explained, trying to level her voice. "Things have changed."
"Things have changed?" Mrs. Parkinson repeated, her voice full of incredulity. "I understand young love, my dear Pansy. Trust me. I do. We were all young once," she explained as her eyes followed her husband walking out of the room between huffs and grumbles, "but –just like it is happening to you- responsibility had come to our lives. If you are wise like I was, you will choose right. What you had with Nott's boy was nothing but a teenage fantasy, and that is all it will ever be."
Pansy's eyes widened. "How did you-?"
"A mother knows everything, Pansy," she said as she stood up. The sweet smile always plastered on her face mocked the harsh, cold look in her eyes. "Forget about him. What has happened to his father and him is unfortunate. However, it is not in our destiny to suffer from other's misery. We must only focus on keeping the family name as powerful as it deserves to be."
Pansy snorted. "Oh, yes, Mother. You're very right. We mustn't focus on others' misfortune, unless it is convenient for us. Salazar forbid we did, even if it is a fair thing to do."
Mrs Parkinson's smile widened, invulnerable to Pansy's sarcasm. "You're learning already," she whispered with a nod and went out of the room.
"Hello, precious," a low, raspy voice said from behind as she was walking alone down the second floor corridor.
Without Dumbledore, Prefects' patrols were only an excuse for Slytherins to give detentions and punishments to those who dared rebel against the new headmaster. The War had most definitely started. The night that had ended with Dumbledore's dead, things had changed. Potter and his minions were no longer in her classes trying to convince everyone that the Dark Lord had returned. It was a fact now. There was no need of repeating it. The poor coward had gone into hiding, just like Draco.
She hadn't heard from him in months. Her letters weren't answered, and he hadn't appeared at King's Cross last month. Pansy knew his father had escaped Azkaban, but since her own father was too much of a coward to use his connections to find out more about what was going on, she hadn't heard anything else. It seemed that all those formal dinners and parties were just a mask. Her father didn't have a problem getting along and talking regularly with those who were rumoured to be Death Eaters, but once the suspicions were confirmed and the Dark Lord's return was evident, his pure-blood opinions were only voiced when it was convenient for him.
"I said hello," the voice repeated, grasping her arm strongly.
"Let. Go." Pansy hissed, staring at Crabbe, wanting to hex the stupidly smug grin off his face.
"What's wrong, Parkinson? Too full of yourself to say hello to your friends?" Goyle snarled beside them.
"I could say the same about you. If Draco were here you two would be nothing but his brainless minions," she said, pointing her wand against Crabbe's thick neck.
"But that's not the case, is it?" Goyle whispered. "Impedimenta."
Pansy's whole body froze but her eyes flickered to Goyle's left hand. He was holding his wand and pointing at her stomach. Trying to move with all her strength was worthless. The charm gave them enough time to take her wand and force her against a wall. Crabbe's big hands gripped her arms as he pressed his whole body against her.
"No more Draco, no more suppression," Crabbe whispered against her ear, just as the charm wore off.
"Oh, look, the gorilla learned a new word," Pansy hissed as she squirmed under Crabbe's weight, trying to free herself.
Crabbe just chuckled and leaned forward, brutally kissing her on the lips. "You'll regret saying that, precious," he whispered, pressing her tighter against the wall and moving a hand to her breast, squeezing it roughly.
"Crabbe, stop," Goyle said, putting a hand over his friend's arm.
"Shut up, Goyle."
Pansy saw Goyle fidgeting from foot to foot as she struggled to free herself from Crabbe's groping hands.
"Someone's coming," he alerted nervously, glancing over at Pansy. "Professor McGonagall."
"Fuck." Crabbe looked over his shoulder. "This isn't over," he whispered, threatening, against Pansy's cheek before kissing her again on the lips and throwing her to the floor. "Let's go," he instructed Goyle, snatching Pansy's wand from his hand and throwing it across the hall as far as he could.
Pansy stood where she was, shaking from fear and anger and listening to Crabbe's booming laugh as they disappeared. She couldn't move. She felt so incapable, so used, so furious.
Before she had noticed, a long time had passed and then she realised: no one was coming. Professor McGonagall wasn't there as Goyle had said. Silently and still shaking, Pansy stood up and walked slowly to where her wand was. She had no rush in going back to her common room. There was a big chance Crabbe was there.
Soft sniffs interrupted deafening silence that reigned the Slytherin common room at such hours of the night. Theodore studied the shaking figure on one of the couches of the room. The glow of the moon would have made it difficult for him to see who it was if the distressed girl wasn't the one he had observed intently from the shadows for so many years. However, this was the first time he had seen her in such way. She looked... small... helpless. Very differently from the powerful, I-can-conquer-the-world-with-one-glance attitude she had portrayed for seven years.
Hesitantly, he made his way to her. The lights were still off and his silent –almost imperceptible- walk would most likely startle her, but it wasn't in his nature to do otherwise. He was out of his comfort zone as it already was.
As he got closer to the couch, he saw her shoulders tense. Her breathing was slow... cautious, as her right hand moved to her hip. She was going to grab her wand. Continuing his steady pace and ignoring the idea of maybe -just for this time- saying something, Theodore casually sat down beside her. He only looked her in the eyes for a second before focusing on the portrait in front of him, one of the many decorating the room. She had looked surprised, her hazel eyes wide.
Silence finally claimed its territory, just like it did every night. Both sat while looking in front of them, almost convincing anyone who may have passed by that they had not acknowledge each other's presence at all. But with time, Theodore felt Pansy's body relax. She lifted up her legs and hugged them as she buried her nose between her knees. Soon, the silence was broken again with now muffled sniffs and occasional sobs. Theodore kept looking ahead, giving her the space he knew she needed.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her rub her nose against the back of her hand, so he charmed a piece of parchment into a handkerchief and levitated it towards her.
Goosebumps covered his arms at the sensation of her eyes looking at him so intently. However, he tried ignoring that and focused on the levitation charm. With one last sniff, Pansy grabbed the handkerchief and proceeded to clean her tearstained cheeks.
Minutes later, she lowered her legs and rose before looking at him again.
"Thank you," she said softly but firmly, making him think she had practised in her head what to say.
It was enough for Theodore. He fought the urge to smile and looked at her in the eyes for the second time. He nodded curtly, his gaze locked on hers, and she left for her room without saying another word.
Thunder and wind roared outside, making the glass of the only window of his small apartment shake. Theodore left the almost empty bowl of soup on the table while he considered going downstairs and re-enforcing the large windows of his apothecary with magic.
That shop in Knockturn Alley was the only thing he owned after his father was killed, and he was not willing to let a simple storm destroy it. Considering his situation- his father was killed in Azkaban by his fellow Death Eaters after giving information to the Aurors to save his life- that apothecary would be the only precious thing he will ever own. Despite being a pure-blood, his father had been a traitor Death Eater, and no rights would ever be given to him again. The pure-blood society had turned its back to him and, in their strive to regain that reputation they all had before Potter's side won, it was very unlikely for Theodore Nott to be part of that world again. Instead, he was excluded from the world he had grown into, considered a traitor due to his father's actions in a moment of weakness.
Deciding to go downstairs and make sure the shop would be alright for the night, Theodore first went to leave the empty bowl in the kitchen. As he lowered it on the sink, he heard his front door opening, followed by some footsteps. Woman's footsteps. And by the echo of expensive high heels against the old wooden floor of his living room, Theodore knew exactly who it was.
However, he was surprised to see Pansy cuddling her knees to her chest, sitting on his ragged couch just like that one night a couple of years ago. The first night of the many they had spent together.
As usual, Theodore silently went to her side. He was never one for words and, even if most people hated that, the one person who mattered the most didn't. As soon as he sat beside her, Pansy crawled into his lap. Like always, no words were needed. Theodore wrapped his arms around her, cradling her slowly, kissing the top of her head every so often. She wasn't crying, but her tight grip on his shirt made him almost wish she were.
A silent Pansy –perhaps emotion-less- was more frightening for him than a crying or angry Pansy. Something was wrong, something had happened. Yet, he wasn't going to push her. Pansy had her own pace, just like him. Of course, as similar as they were, both made others respect said timing in different ways.
Time passed, fast and slow at the same time, as they hugged each other tightly while listening to the storm. Suddenly, he heard Pansy sniff against his chest just when he felt a tear wetting his shirt. Recalling that night during their seventh year, Theodore transfigured one of the scattered parchments with calculations of the shop's finances into a handkerchief and levitated it to his hand.
Silently, he offered the handkerchief to her and Pansy straightened to look him in the eye. The frown in her forehead made it look as if she were narrowing her eyes in angst. Not taking his eyes away from hers, Theodore dried the single tear running down her cheek, but before he finished, her eyes watered. Threatening tears invaded her beautiful hazel eyes; tears that were released as soon as she whispered the cause of her sorrow.
"I have to marry Draco."
"Do you need help?" Narcissa asked from the door.
Pansy turned to look at her future mother-in-law and faked a smile as she nodded. Narcissa began tightening the lacing of Pansy's corset as much as she could, showcasing the experience she had after so many years of wearing them.
"I hate these things. It's the Twenty-first century, for Salazar's sake," Pansy commented struggling to breathe and speak.
Narcissa chuckled in that soft, feminine manner of hers. "Get used to it. It is one of our duties to behave like a lady, and that includes dressing like this. It is an honour to be courted by men as powerful as the Malfoys, Pansy. Trust me. I know that. It took some time, but I've learned to understand that and embrace the advantages of being Mister Malfoy's wife. And you'll learn that too some day. To your fortune, you have me to help and instruct you along the way," she said in a tone that was on the verge of condescending.
"But it's so much sacrifice," Pansy whispered.
"Is it?" Narcissa considered, helping Pansy put on the fading pink petticoat with detailed lace at the ends. "Have you ever considered the sacrifice not being required of us? Think, Pansy. Do not commit a mistake that will ruin a world of opportunities. A person I admired when I was a little girl did that. She ran away with the wrong person and her destiny was one of constant struggle and suffering."
Pansy froze for a second. How did Narcissa Malfoy know she was considering running away with Theodore? Had her mother told Narcissa about them? Walking over to the bed, she grasped her dress angrily and tried to restrain herself from giving Narcissa Malfoy a piece of her mind. She had been too shocked to answer her mother properly, but she knew exactly what to say to Narcissa.
Nobody stepped over Pansy Parkinson.
Hardly breathing, she held her dress tightly—surely wrinkling it, but Pansy didn't care. "With all due respect, how can you be so sure? How do you know for certain there isn't something better out there than lowering your head and obeying orders, acting like a perfect porcelain doll with manners worth of a Russian princess?"
Narcissa's piercing grey eyes widened for a second in surprise before they narrowed in anger and spite. "You ungrateful girl," she said, throwing the silky veil to Pansy. "You should cherish the opportunity destiny is presenting you, or else leave right this instant and never come back. My son can have any girl he wants. If you are foolish enough to believe he will wander around moping over you, you're very much mistaken." With firm, long steps she started to exit the room but stopped in the doorway, giving Pansy a bitter look. "I'm trying to help you, Pansy. But I shall not convince you. It is your decision, after all. I'll be downstairs greeting the guests," she said coldly before leaving for Draco and Pansy's engagement ball.
"Would it kill you to smile?" Draco muttered from the corner of his mouth.
Pansy sighed in frustration. This was where she belonged, there was no doubt about that. Since the age of eight, she had dreamed of this day. Officially becoming Draco Malfoy's fiancé, having all the luxuries a woman like she deserved, planning the wedding of the decade; they had been her one and only obsession for almost ten years. Now, sitting at Draco's side and faking a smile, Pansy wondered where those dreams and fantasies had gone. She silently cursed at Theodore. If that night... if he hadn't... if she hadn't... if they hadn't...
"Excuse me. I'll be right back."
"Where are you going?" Draco asked quickly, looking at her with suspicion.
"To the ladies room. What? Am I not allowed to go to the restroom without asking for your permission anymore?" she hissed. This was the Pansy Parkinson she used to be, the bitchy attitude that comprised her comfort zone. She would have to have her back again because the soft, crying, needy one had no place in this world.
Draco pursed his lips sternly. "Go," he simply said, taking another bite of his food. But just as Pansy turned to leave the room he grabbed her by the wrist. "Wash your face. Maybe it will take away that expression you've had all night," he finished, releasing her arm.
"India? Why India?"
"Have you ever heard of the Taj Mahal? The reason why it was built? About the wizard making his Mudblood servants build it in memory of his wife?"
"Yes. So, if you could go anywhere in the world, you would go to India just to see the Taj Mahal?" Theodore asked, staggered by Pansy's answer.
"What? You thought I was going to say Paris or someplace like that, didn't you?" Pansy asked, moving her head from his chest to look at his face.
"Honestly? I did."
Pansy sighed and untangled herself from Theodore's arms. They were lying on one of the couches of their common room in the middle of the night, a moment they only shared with the moon and its silence. "This," she said pointing at her head, "is not just for displaying my beautiful hair, you know?"
Theodore laughed softly, caressing her hair with one hand as his other arm slid around her waist and brought her closer to him. Briefly biting her lip, Pansy pulled Theodore towards her by the neck of his robes, kissing him passionately.
The hand on her hair moved to the back of her neck, bringing her closer as he parted his lips, pressing his tongue against her mouth. He groaned at the taste of her lip gloss and slipped his right hand under her shirt, placing it over her lower back. With a moan, Pansy granted him entrance and quickly took charge of the situation. Swirling her tongue against his, she took the hand behind her neck to her breast, encouraging Theodore to take that step further than what they had done so far in the two months they'd been together.
To her surprise, he didn't remove his hand or try to calm the situation with sweet but less passionate kisses. This time, Theodore obliged, giving in to his accelerated hormones. He felt his blood rushing through his veins, making his skin burn under his robes as Pansy's body writhed wantonly against him.
Pansy bit his lower lip, tempting Theodore more than she already had, before straddling his hips. Her hands went to her shirt, slowly and seductively undoing each individual button.
"Pansy..." Theodore groaned, trying to accommodate the tightness of his trousers which had been perfectly comfortable just minutes ago.
Pansy quirked an eyebrow at him. "Like what you see?"
Theodore was breathing hard trying to recover his composure."I do. I just-"
"What?" Pansy looked at him, confused. She had really thought this time they were going to take that step further. Certainly, she enjoyed their late night snogging sessions and occasional groping, but Theodore had always stopped things just when they were about to do more.
"Maybe we just-"
"No. No. Absolutely not," Pansy said firmly, getting up and closing her shirt loosely over her chest. "I'm sick of this. What's the problem, Theodore? Every time we're about to- don't you find me attractive?"
He sighed, sitting on the couch, and rubbing his hands over his hair. "No, it's-"
"No?" Pansy interrupted him shocked at his words.
Theodore sighed again. "Pansy, relax. Of course I find you attractive. Look!" he said in desperation, standing up and pointing at the tent in his trousers.
"I'm nervous, alright? I've never had sex before. I'm a bloody virgin!" he said in anger that was directed more to himself than his girlfriend.
An uncomfortable silence followed his words. His nervous pacing didn't make things better, but Theodore couldn't bring himself to say anything else. He couldn't even look at her face.
"Well, I'm not," Pansy said firmly with a determined look in her eyes.
And of all the answers Theodore had expected, this was not one of them. He stopped pacing and looked at her in confusion, trying to ignore the anger and impotence he felt at such statement.
"Don't look at me like that." The defiant and condescending look that was so characteristic of her came along with her words. Pointing her nose up in the air, she continued, "I'm not a virgin. You know I was with Draco during-"
"What are you doing?" Theodore asked harshly, skin crawling with jealousy. They had barely touched the subject of her past relationship with Draco since -whilst it was public knowledge the "king and queen" of Slytherin had been together- Theodore couldn't stand the mental image of Malfoy touching Pansy like he had.
Pansy pressed her lips, trying to hold back a grin. Jealousy was Theodore's sore spot and whilst she had respected it in the past, maybe using it now would help her get what she wanted. Salazar knew she had waited long enough for him; if he wasn't going to please her by his own means, she would have to make him do it.
With a fake laugh, she continued, "Funny how you turned into such a prude, Nott. Draco had never-"
"Stop it," Theodore muttered through his teeth, clutching his long hands into tight fists besides him.
Yes, playing the fool was another one of Pansy's gifts. This time, Theodore was not going to fall into her trap. "You know what," he hissed.
In one stride he was in front of her, breathing hard against her forehead. His hands held her hips possessively. "Fuck Malfoy. You're with me now, and I'll make sure he never puts a hand on you again," he whispered. His word were full of jealousy and his hands were full of a feisty need to reassure she was with him now and not Draco.
"I'm yours?" Pansy asked, indignant at hearing her boyfriend refer to her in such possessive manner. However, as soon as the words escaped her mouth, she had to admit they felt good. She felt wanted, and her skin recognised the warm feeling spreading inside of her.
"You're mine," he reassured, catching her lips in a deep kiss; one of the first ones they had shared that first night when their bodies became one for the first time.
Her eyes looked over the beautiful garden of the Malfoy Manor. The soft glow of the full moon made it easy for her to distinguish what she was looking for. The garden was empty. With a slight frown, she started descending the three steps stairs to check behind the antique well or the leafy bushes that so perfectly decorated the place. However, before her heel could touch the marble floor, someone grabbed her wrist.
"You said y— Draco!" she said as she spun around to look at the man behind her.
"Were you expecting someone else?" he asked suspiciously.
A nervous laugh escaped her lips before her expression turned cold. "Of course not," she replied, flickering her hand over her shoulder dismissively as she turned to look at the garden again.
"I thought you were going to the toilet."
"I was. I am. Just thought I could use some air first." Her eyes focused on the detail of the iron decorating the well. The sound of Draco's footsteps accelerated her heartbeat as he went to sit on the first step next to where she was standing.
"I- I wanted to ap— apolog—" He sighed. His fingers went through his perfectly brushed hair a few times before he continued. "Before, I acted-"
"It's fine, Draco," she said with no emotion.
He huffed in frustration. "It could have been worse, you know?"
Pansy looked at him; his grey eyes said too much. A nineteen-year-olds eyes shouldn't say so much. Was this what the war has done to all of them? Was this what trying to recover from the war has done to them? However, behind all that angst, behind that invisible curtain was the Draco she had grown up with, her first kiss, her first secret, her first partner-in-crime, her first love.
"I know," she said with a nod as her eyes went back to the well.
"At least we already-"
"-know each other."
They laughed in unison, looking into each other's eyes again. It felt so familiar but, at the same time, it had been a long time since they had been together like this... just talking.
"Well, that too," Draco said in that stupidly smug way teenagers used when talking about taking a girl's virginity.
She smiled at him. "The only thing left to do is getting used to it again."
"I suppose." He shrugged. "Although it'll be easier if we both make an effort."
Pansy faked a shocked gasp. "Both? Are you Draco Malfoy or some Polyjuiced idiot?"
"Many things have changed, Pansy," he said standing up and rearranging his dress robes, brushing away the nonexistent wrinkles.
"For what I see, we haven't changed," she pointed out with a soft smile.
"Which is a good thing, considering the circumstances," he finished, giving her a chaste kiss on the lips.
"Don't take too long. Mother won't let me eat anything else until you're back."
She chuckled. "She's certainly something, isn't she?"
"She really wants this, you know?" he said in an apologetic way, trying to cover for his mother.
"I understand. Now go before they all start talking about how we escaped the party to shag each other's brains out."
He quirked his eyebrow and winked at her seductively. "Sounds like a good idea."
"Draco," she warned with a smile still plastered to her face.
"Alright. See you inside."
One more time, alone in the garden of the Malfoys, she dropped herself to the floor, sitting on the marble step. She sighed, twirling a lock of hair with her fingers, running over and over in her head her conversation with Draco.
"You're considering staying, aren't you?"
"Oh, Merlin! You scared me, Theodore!" she snapped angrily, pressing a hand against her chest.
He was standing against the wall, only a couple of feet away from where she was sitting. His long arms were crossed over his chest, his jaw set.
"Unless your things are charmed to be in your knickers –which I really doubt-, I guess you've made your decision," Theodore said as if Pansy hadn't said a word.
Pansy stared at the floor, focusing on the delicate lace of her dress against the fine, imported marble. She didn't dare say a thing. Like her mother and Narcissa had told her, the decision she made would be the one to determine how the rest of her life was going to be. Pansy needed to be cautious and not take things lightly. Running away with Theodore meant never coming back, meant struggling to survive, meant lacking of all the luxuries she was so used to. But at the same time, if she stayed, it would mean living without Theodore.
Abruptly, Pansy stood up. "Bloody hell!" she hissed in frustration, trying with all her being not to shout as she wanted to. "Why the fuck did your father have to be such a coward!"
Theodore went to stand in front of her, overpowering her with his height. "Don't say that," he whispered.
"Why not? This is all his fault, isn't it? Things would have b—"
"You would have preferred he died like the coward your precious boyfriend Malfoy was?"
"At least my fiancé didn't make my life compl—"
Theodore didn't let her finish. In one swift move, his lips had caught hers in a fierce kiss, where both poured their anger and frustration. Hands roamed frantically over each other's body as tongues battled for dominance in a mess of lips and teeth. It was sloppy and awkward, yet, as passionate as they had ever been. As Theodore moved them backwards to the shadows of a corner, Pansy couldn't stop wondering if this was it, if this was their goodbye.
Turning them around, Theodore pressed Pansy against the wall, struggling with the layers of lace and silk of Pansy's dress. Biting softly on her lower lip, his lips moved to her jaw and thin neck, where he sucked and nibbled on the delicate flesh. Every now and then, he would whisper, "you're mine", reminding Pansy of their first time together. His words had been right then, but the silver ring on her hand said otherwise now. Pansy now belonged to someone else.
"What about India?" he mumbled against the crook of her neck as his right hand touched her thigh, giving her goosebumps as his fingers slipped under her knickers. "Is Malfoy going to take you to India? Does he touch you like I do?" Sliding his fingers over her entrance, he slipped one finger inside, making Pansy moan and writhe underneath him. "Does he know how to read your body signals like I do?" She bucked her hips once against his hand and he quickly added another finger. Does he respect your timing like I do? Does he love you like I do?" he said before moving his lips back to hers, kissing her deeply in a slow, loving pace that contrasted with his frantic actions.
"Theodore," she gasped against his lips as her hands gripped his hair, pulling at it.
"I love you, Pansy," he whispered against her cheek, flicking his thumb over her clit. "I know you." He added a third finger. In and out, in and out, in and out and her walls started to clutch around them.
"I need you, Pansy. Please, don't leave me," he begged in such low voice that she felt the words more than heard them between her gasps.
With one last kiss, she let herself go, riding his fingers as her orgasm travelled all over her body, tensing her muscles in a delicious way.
The month of wedding preparations was one that went by all too quickly for Pansy's liking. She hadn't seen Theodore since her engagement party and her decision still hadn't been made. While there were days she was determined to leave Draco and run away from her parents' –and society's- pressure, there were also mornings when Draco arranged for them to have breakfast on his bedroom's balcony, afternoons when they would walk around the park as they had done during their childhood, and nights when he would sporadically grabbed her and made her dance with him to imaginary music.
Of course, the minute his father saw her wearing her white dress, Pansy became "princess" again. He hadn't called her like that since she was nine years old.
"Yes," she said, turning to look at her father and glancing at the bag with her belongings on the far corner of the room.
Pansy's eyes admired the fine objects of the elegant room she was in while her fingers pressed against that spot on her neck Theodore liked so much. The place where he had marked her as his so many times before. She took one last breath and made the decision that was so hard for her to make. Not wanting to let any room for doubts and regrets, she went to the old desk besides the window and looked for a piece of parchment.
"Father, I need to do something first. Go downstairs, I'll meet you there," Pansy said with shaking hands.
Her father frowned but did as told. "You have two minutes," he instructed before leaving the room.
After finding a quill, Pansy started writing, trying to hold back the insecurities and fears. This was the right thing to do. She had to choose what was best for her, not thinking about others. She had to act like the Pansy Parkinson she had been most of her life.
Theodore watched her as she walked in the beautiful white gown. She glowed in it. The delicate fabric reflected the warm summer light as she walked down the aisle. He didn't do anything. He couldn't do anything. The note in his hand was crumpled as he closed his fist tightly around it. The words in it burned in his mind as he saw Draco Malfoy slide a golden ring on her finger.
Know that I will always love you, Theodore. I just need to do this for myself. I was raised to live this life. If only I were taught to live in another way -to choose with my heart and not my mind- we would most probably be strolling around the majestic Taj Mahal together. I hope you can forgive me.
The new Mr and Mrs Malfoy sealed their union with a kiss, ending the ceremony. Theodore hid cautiously behind a column, trying to not be seen by the people already standing up and surrounding the couple to greet and congratulate them. For some reason, he was not surprised to notice where he was. Apparently, his destiny was to watch her –to love her- from the shadows, just as had done the first six years he had known her. He just wished he could get used to loving her from afar.
A/N: Please, review! It's my first time with these characters and all Slytherins characters in a fic. I would love to know what you think. :)