Who: Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson
Where: Dragon Enterprises and the Dragon's Back Inn [Diagon Alley]
Summary: Draco rages and Pansy soothes and somehow a bottle of firewhiskey is emptied.
If being pissed could be personified, today it would definitely look like Draco Malfoy. His grey eyes were nothing but a furious storm and he was dressed less than immaculately, testimony to a night spent tossing and turning. His strides carrying him in to the office were swift and he enjoyed the rhythmatic stomping of his feet across the floor. His long black cloak billowed out behind him, flowing out as if it too wished to avoid the anger radiating from Draco.
Throwing open the door and listening to the satisfying crash it made as it hit the wall, Draco turned and snarled at Parvati who immediate cringed away. Turning on his heel, Draco stormed down the hallway, making a brief stop in Pansy's doorway. "Do you have the numbers for Patterson?" he snapped out. "I'm meeting him in two hours and I bloody well want to be ready. Have them in my office in five minutes."
Slamming shut her office door, he moved slightly further along and threw open his. In a further fit of pique, he tossed his cloak to the rack and stalked to the window, looking out at dreary London.
He was there and gone in the space of three seconds, so Pansy hardly had time to do more than simply stare at him before he'd stormed out of her office. Fortunately, the time he gave her was ample enough for her to find a reaction to this behaviour. While Draco could be short and curt - and downright nasty - at times, he rarely let himself descend into a full out rage as he was in now. Something big had happened. And she was determined to find out what.
She was at his office in three and a half minutes. There were no sounds of anything breaking, so he had either taken out most of his aggression on the doors, or he was still waiting to completely snap. Best she play it safe for now. She knocked on his door and stepped in, folders in hand. "The Patterson file."
Turning from the window, Draco looked at Pansy. His eyes were still raging and it was obvious that he was holding onto his temper with a thin string. "And how was your weekend?" he asked in a snide voice. "Have a lovely time? Catch up with old friends? Really? Sounds like my weekend." Obviously this was all dripping with sarcasm, though his mood was not directed at her. "With the delightful exception of being forced to find a new home."
"Gryffindors got to be too much?" Pansy asked, tapping the folder against her palm. They must have done something even more insufferable than usual to get Draco riled up like this.
Draco gave a short bark of angry laughter. "Oh, I just got rather sick of their holier than thou attitude and being used by them." He shot an angry glare out the window. "Everyone is fucking using me and I really won't tolerate it anymore." His arms folded over his chest and the anger rolled off of him in physical waves.
He was hurt. When Pansy realised this, she stepped further into the room and cast Silencing and Locking Charms on the door. "What did they do?" Her voice was calm, to keep him so, with just enough intensity to express her indignation on his behalf.
He snorted. "Looking for ammunition Parkinson?" He didn't really mean to be so cruel - and not to Pansy who had always stood beside him. "Fuck. I don't even know what to say." Draco turned his back to her, simmering in his rage.
Pansy knew better than to take that personally. Insults were thrown left and right in Slytherin; it was how the students got so good at them. She was more concerned that whatever had happened, had upset Draco so much that he didn't have the words to express himself. "What don't you tell me what happened?"
Again that angry bark of laughter slipped through his lips. "Sure. I'll just spill the rest of my guts right here on the floor. Invite the inane Gryffindor in and have a bloody party. Nothing else will hurt any more." Whipping around he stared at Pansy. "Tell me, darling," he sneered, "what do you know of my mother?"
Pansy sucked in a breath between her teeth. Mrs. Malfoy had been Draco's one weakness. If the Gryffindors had found some way to exploit that... "Probably more than they do."
"Speak then," Draco spat at her. "Tell me what you remember." He paced around the office, snarling out the words that Severus, no Snape, had shot at him. "Was she a heartless bitch who would have used me to achieve whatever ends needed. Did she sell her soul out to the Dark Lord. Did..." Draco heaved a slight sob, "did she never love me?"
Pansy wouldn't have done this for anyone else, except maybe her parents when they discovered that their fortune had fled with any chance of victory in the war. But it spoke volumes about her relationship with Draco that he'd let his guard down so completely around her. So she went to him and wrapped her arms around him, soothing him as one might an injured hippogriff. The gesture didn't come easily to her, unused as she was to it, but it left no doubt of her intentions. "She loved you," she said quietly. "She loved you as much as she could love anyone."
His hands clenched and he stood rigid as she attempted to comfort him. Draco inhaled slowly. "Which speaks volumes for that statement. Malfoys know little about love, Pansy and you know that well. We were trained in the same manner. Always a tool for someone else." The storm in the grey eyes calmed briefly as he looked down at her. "Used by whomever desires. Including the high and mighty bunch of goody-goodies in the Order." Draco moved away from her and gripped the window ledge. "They killed my mother."
Pansy felt as if her gut had turned to ice. While she'd been surprised to hear that Lucius Malfoy had killed his own wife, this news came more as a shock. "Salazar," she whispered.
"Got it in one," Draco retorted. "A clever move by Snape or someone working with him to use me to their means. To bring me to their side. As if I can't be trusted to make my own damn decisions." Draco wanted to hit and kick and throw something – a rather petulant little boy response, but it would certainly make him feel better.
Pansy sat down abruptly, the Patterson folder hanging loosely, forgotten, in her hand. This changed everything. "How did you find out?"
"Snape," Draco said in a cold voice. His fist slammed against the windowsill in anger. "He kindly explained everything to me. The one person that I trusted in this world and he betrayed me. What the fuck do I do now?!"
"Why would he do that?" Pansy asked. It made no sense. Snape ought to have been aware of how Draco felt about his mother. Why confess if not under duress of some sort?
"To bring me over to his side," Draco said and then in a flash of honesty, he added, "To protect me in his words."
Pansy mulled this over, but didn't very much like the conclusions that she drew. The method was Slytherin, but the motive was suspiciously Hufflepuff. It didn't fit in with the image of the Snape that she knew. Then again, she hadn't figured him to be a traitor to the Dark Lord either. "Why did he tell you now?"
His grey eyes were looking out of the window. "I am not sure. I ... I have not thought much on that part of that why of things."
She rubbed the bridge of her nose, mind whirling. "All right. Have you found a new place to live yet?"
"Just a hotel," Draco said in a snappish tone. "Nothing permanent. I couldn't stay where I was though. I am sure you can understand that."
"Of course." Pansy's voice was crisp as she tried to figure out a line of action. "I'll start making inquiries for you. Vocioni's coming in before Patterson; we can change the appointment if you want. Have you eaten yet?"
Draco shook his pale head. "No I haven't." A long fingered hand raked through unkempt hair. "I haven't slept. There is too much..."
Pansy studied him for a moment, then stood up. "Take the day off. Patil will reschedule your appointments, and I'll order you some food. You can go find a bird to boff."
The snort of disgust slipped from Draco without thought. "I don't want to find a bird and certainly not for sex. Blood might be a possible. Fine whatever - food is fine. And a bottle of whiskey."
"In my cupboard," Pansy told him archly. She regarded him briefly, strangely hesitant to leave him alone like this, before continuing. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Fine," Draco said, hands still clenching on the windowsill, as if he could rip it off. "Go then."
She did. A few minutes later, she was back, as promised, with a bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses. "Food will be here shortly. Sit down, Draco, before you break."
Taking a glass of firewhiskey and downing it quickly before demanding more. He sank into his chair behind is desk. "Fuck. I hate this Pansy. Hate it with a bloody fucking passion."
Pansy poured. "I don't blame you. Everything you thought you knew has been turned on its head."
Draco downed that one once more quickly as possible. "Yeah you could say that. Fuck, at this rate I should just rejoin with my arse of a Father. At least then I know when I'm fucking being used. Bastard." The glass, empty again, was held out for more of the warm amber liquid.
Pansy poured once more, contemplating how she could use this opening and these new revelations in such a way that Draco wouldn't quite be as upset by the fact that she knew where his father was. "Funny you should mention that," she murmured neutrally.
"Mention what? That I am the seed of an idiotic bastard?" Draco snarled, drinking down the whiskey a bit slower this time. "Damn him for putting me in impossible positions. The only person I can trust now is myself. Well, and you."
Pansy smiled thinly in acknowledgement, though she doubted he'd notice in the state he was in. "You're not going to go back to him, are you?"
"Going back to him?" Draco asked with an aghast expression on his face. "Fuck no. I hate him. And right now he's got no fucking influence in my life and I'd like to keep it that way. I won't let myself be used. I won't. I can't. I need to stand on my own feet. Bring back the Malfoy name to what it should be."
"Good," Pansy murmured, shifting her focus and plans with each reply he made. "You're no longer looking for him, then? I know you've been concentrating solely on the company lately."
"Go looking for him?" Draco said, considering those words for a long moment. Then he shook his pale head. "No. I want him dead but I want to keep my skin. Challenging him would not lead to that."
Those words lifted a great weight off Pansy's shoulders, though she was careful not to show it. If Draco didn't want to find his father, then she wasn't betraying him by not telling him where Lucius was. "You have other things to think about at the moment. What are you going to do with the Order?"
Draco shrugged. "I want to know who killed my mother. I want the pensieve that belonged to her that Bellatrix stole." Picking up the glass, he heaved it across the room, letting it shatter against the wall. "I need to get my hand on that first. Then I will find out who killed her."
Pansy had grown up with a family who'd thought itself too gentile to get its hands dirty by getting involved directly with the Death Eaters. Her father had never laid a hand on her except in affectionate gestures and violence was rarely seen. When the glass hit the wall, she wasn't able to conceal a flinch. "Snape didn't tell you exactly who, then?"
"No, he was protecting them," Draco muttered, taking Pansy's glass for his own and pouring more to drink in it. "So it beats the fucking hell out of me other than the fact that they should be able to look and speak exactly like Lucius."
Pansy didn't even protest the commandeering of her glass. "You realise that if you pursue this, you're going to put yourself back into the thick of things. There is another conflict brewing. You dip your finger in, you're going to get sucked in."
The glass was emptied yet again. "If I ever wasn't in the midst of whatever the heck it is they are doing, I was fooling myself. They brought me back in and made it my issue by continually using me." The drink was burning down his throat and eating the emptiness of his stomach leaving behind a decided churning. "Can I just walk away and turn my back on this?!"
Pansy simply, wordlessly, refilled his glass.
"I'm sick of just sitting and letting them manipulate me into things. I want some answers and damn it I'm going to get them." The words were snarled and edged with further alcohol induced anger.
"First you need to find Bellatrix," Pansy stated, forcing herself to stay calm. In the face of his explosive anger, it was difficult to keep impassive, but she knew that he needed this to ground him. Otherwise, it would be more than simply the glass that would be broken.
"Bellatrix," Draco agreed, downing another drink. "And where do I find my darling auntie. Any clues at this moment where the bitch might be?"
Pansy didn't respond for a moment. Would Bellatrix be where Lucius was? Keeping all the Death Eaters in one place seemed to be risky, but in post-war times when their faces were so infamous, how scattered could they afford to be? "Bellatrix," she said slowly, "isn't exactly discreet. She tends to leave a mark wherever she goes."
"Of course, you are quite right my darling," Draco murmured, rocking a bit back on his chair and wobbling slightly. He blinked as his reflexes, starting to slow now, managed to catch him before he fell over completely. "I bet she would be interested in meeting with me though if I offered myself. Who wouldn't want a chance to use Draco Malfoy at this point." He sneered and poured himself more to drink.
"Do you have any contacts that remained from the war?" Pansy asked, inwardly wondering how many more glasses it was going to take to knock him out altogether. "Maybe one of them might have heard something."
"Good plan," Draco said, slumping down in the chair, losing a bit more control of his actions. "I could always just send her an owl."
"Might not reach her if she doesn't want to be found." Pansy reached over to grab a quill and parchment to take notes. There was no telling how much Draco was going to remember in the morning.
"It would be worth a try," Draco said and then gave a rather uncharacteristic drunk giggle. "How about 'Dear Bitch, give me back my mother's property. Draco'." He gave another giggle and fumbled for more to drink.
Aaaaand that was Pansy's cue to put down her quill and get up. "We'll write the owl tomorrow. Come on," she added as she rounded the desk to his side. "Let's get you out of here."
Pushing himself away in the rolling chair, Draco shook his head and the room spun. "Nope. Let's do it now. Come on. Be a sport!" he said in a wheedling tone.
Pansy's lips twitched. For a moment, she considered running to get her camera; oh, the blackmail opportunities she could get out of this. Discretion won out for the moment. "We'll do it when we get back to your room," she compromised. "Where are you staying now?"
"Don't remember at the moment - Dragon? House?" Draco said in a blurry tone, peering up at Pansy with his eyes squinting in an effort to see her better. "Some nice Inn. I remember liking the green duvet. It was silk." This was all said rather seriously as if it was the most important information he could impart to her.
It was, however, enough to give Pansy an idea of where he was staying. There weren't too many upscale inns around here, after all. "All right, let's get you back there first, then." She held out her hand to help him up. "We're flooing."
"Gross!" Draco stated, stamping his foot like a petulant child. "You know I hate getting dirty."
"I'll cast an Impervious Charm," Pansy soothed. "Come on. Up you go."
Pouting all the while, Draco allowed her to draw him up from his seat, whinging about his clothing getting dirty and everything. "I hate floo. So icky. Only fucking mudbloods should have to travel that way."
"Mudbloods shouldn't be travelling at all in our world," Pansy muttered as she hooked an arm around his waist and eased him towards the fireplace. After casting Impervious on the both of them, she shoved a handful of floo powder into Draco's hand and made sure he could properly enunciate the name of the inn before allowing him to step into the fireplace. When he was gone, she breathed out a sigh of relief and stepped in after him.
At the Inn, Draco stumbled across the lobby and ended up sprawled across the beautiful elegant Oriental rug in front of the fireplace. He lay there, watching the walls spin and giggling until Pansy followed behind him. The hotel staff were already beginning to notice and the manager came across just as Pansy arrived. "Master Malfoy?"
"Master Malfoy needs to be taken to his room," Pansy said smoothly as she came up and put herself between the gawkers and her employer. "What is his room number?"
The manager looked haughtily at Pansy, considering her carefully before Draco piped up with. "It had a six in it." And then those grey eyes, bouncing with drunken delight turned to Pansy. "Pansy wants to take me to bed." There was a slight giggle before his hands began fumbling with the fastening of his outer robes. "She's always wanted me you know," was his attempt at a conspiratorially whisper with the manager, loud enough for the entire lobby to hear. "I though I'd make her day today."
"As you can see," Pansy said in chilly tones, "Master Malfoy is quite unable to function. The room number, if you will." Her tone brooked no argument.
Aghast at the words tumbling from the proper blonde's lips, the manager turned to Pansy and nodded. "624," he said in a cool voice. "Do you require help?" Draco continued to giggle and wink at Pansy while fumbling with his clothing.
"Just tell your employees not to gawk. It's unbecoming." Reaching down, she grabbed Draco's hand before he could give the lobby a show. "Come on. Up again."
The manager shooed away all the other employees with a dark glare and everyone scuttled away.
With Pansy's tugging, Draco managed to get to his feet, leaning toward Pansy. "Ready for me then darling?"
"Always," Pansy said dryly, staggering a little under his weight. Slowly, she led him up to his room.
"I shall make it well worth your time then," Draco murmured with a leer toward Pansy.
"You're pissed," Pansy said with a laugh. Staggering to a stop in front of the door, she nudged him. "All right, loverboy. Open it up."
It took a bit of fiddling, mixed with overacted leering and badly done winks, for Draco to pull out his wand. Tapping it against the door and muttering the proper charm, Draco managed to get it open. In a fit of sobriety, he pulled himself to his full impressive height to drawl out, "I can charm your pants off pissed or not." And then spoiled the delightfully sober image by letting his knees give way and leaning against Pansy with a giggle.
His weight sent her staggering back a few steps, but she managed to keep them from toppling over. Ignoring the door for now, she heaved him over to the bed. "I'm charmed already," she assured him.
"Really charmed? I could be even more so," Draco said, looking up at Pansy from half-closed eyes, clothing askew and hair completely dishelved, he was the picture of sexual want sitting right there. "I've always wanted you, you know Pansy, darling?"
"You've always wanted half the House," Pansy replied with fond amusement. He really was devastatingly attractive when he wanted to be; Pansy had always known that, but one of them had to be sober here. "Take off your shoes, Draco, before you ruin those lovely silk sheets."
Draco lounged back, draping his arm over his forehead in a very bishounen pose. Carefully, he toed off his shoes in a clumsy and almost cute manner. "I don't want to ruin the place where I am going to take you," Draco said, laying down his cheek on the pillow and closing his eyes. "And none of the House really mattered but you sexy."
Pansy rocked back on her heels and regarded him with fingers pressed against her lips. It would be really, really, bad of her to take advantage of him in such a state, but no one had ever accused Pansy Parkinson of being a good girl. "Reeeeally," she drawled. "Do tell."
Slowly those grey eyes slid open as he gazed up at her. Draco rubbed his cheek in a sensous movement against the silk of the pillow. "Yeah.." he drawled out, licking his dry lips. "Tall and cool you always were. We all figured you were totally untouchable. Dipped in ice from head to toe but we all wanted to try and melt that ice." His grey eyes snapped open wide, dilated with his lack of sobriety and he stared at her. "Make you sizzle." His eyes slide closed again and his lips turned up slightly. "You always had the longest most luscious legs..."
Even drunk, he was no less hypnotic in his speech. "I'm glad you think so." She walked over to the door and closed it, each step taken to maximise his view of those luscious legs. Locking the door, she turned around to lean her back against it, palms pressed against the wood. "But Mama always told me not to sizzle until I had a ring."
"Ring... ring... ring," Draco muttered, blearily fumbling beside the bed, drunkenly searching for something that if he was even remotely coherent he wouldn't consider parting with. Finally, he managed to find it and tossed the ring to her. The heavy ornament was obviously meant for a man and emblazoned with the Malfoy family crest. "There you go. Enjoy it. Sizzle legs." And yes, Draco's eyes were now riveted on those legs. He was most definitely a leg man and Pansy made the most of that.
Pansy reached out to catch the ring, just managing to snag it before it disappeared into the plush carpet, and tucked it away. Eyes gleaming, she pushed away from the door and sashayed towards the bed, gaze never leaving his. Her hands came up and undid the clasp on her robe, slowly easing it down....until she got hold of her wand. "Sleep tight," she said sweetly, and pointed it at him. "Somnus."
Draco's eyes, watching her every move with a very raw hunger, exposed as he was with the alcohol stripping away his inhibitions and rational thoughts, rolled back in his head as the spell washed over him. Within moments, he was deeply asleep - a powerful combination of drink and the spell. His face lost years as he buried into the covers of the bed and slept - innocent for once.
Pansy smiled in satisfaction and tugged up her robe once the spell had hit. "Oh, Draco," she sighed as she carefully tucked him in. "You poor, poor bastard."