JALS 12

[minervaalistor.livejournal.com]

Title: Just Another Love Story
Summary: Harry helps Draco with some issues...or does he?
Rating: NC-17 to be safe
Author: minerva alistor
Where: under the cut or at my site or my livejournal or skyehawke

Comments welcomed, encouraged and wanked over.



As Draco walked towards the dungeons, the letter in his breast pocket started to grow warm. He adjusted his robes as well as he could, but it was undeniable that the parchment was growing hot against his chest.

Draco had mastered himself in the last several minutes. He was concentrating on one thing and one thing only-he was now head of the Malfoy family. When news of his father’s death reached the rest of the world, all eyes would be on him. How he behaved from this point onward was critical.

He strolled into the Slytherin dungeons the picture of self-possession.

“Pansy,” he called, getting her attention. “Could you come upstairs with me please? I need your assistance.”

Pansy’s stomach dropped at once. She had never seen Draco so cold; she was forcefully reminded of Lucius Malfoy on the nights he had come to Parkinson Place to check in with her father concerning Death Eater business. Draco was chilly perfection personified, his strong, aristocratic nose as straight as his posture.

She knew something horrible had happened. She thought, in horror, that Harry must be dead.

“Draco, what is it?” she whispered to him.

“Just follow me, please,” he answered, his voice all business.

Draco walked in measured steps to his dorm and sat down on his bed. He took the letter out of his pocket and looked at it again. In the new state of calm that he had found, he realized something he hadn’t noticed before. His father’s handwriting was flawless, the product of hours spent as a child with a master calligrapher. As an adult, Lucius Malfoy could turn out script that looked as if it had been printed by a machine without effort. Precise and perfect every time. When he’d first received the letter in Dumbledore’s office, Draco had thought that his name was written in his father’s usually flawless hand. But looking at it now, there were a few tell tale signs of his father’s state of mind. The bottoms of the letters were slightly uneven, the width of them every so slightly off. The pressure on the upstroke of the ‘r’ had been such that it had torn the parchment. Lucius Malfoy had been furiously angry when he had written Draco’s name on the front of this missive.

As Draco thought this, the letter seemed to flare and scorch his fingers. With a hiss, he dropped it to the ground. He and Pansy went for it at the same time, but it was Pansy who retrieved it.

“Is this from Lucius?” she asked him.

“Yes.”

“Is it some sort of Howler? Why is it so hot?” she asked, now holding it with the sleeve of her shirt pulled over her fingers.

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a Howler, but I think we should open it before it self destructs.”

Very carefully, Pansy unfolded the letter.

A low, stifled roar of rage erupted from the page.


You filth! a voice hissed, quiet and forced, as if spoken through gritted teeth. Draco’s eyes fell shut and a shudder wracked his frame. It was his father.

By now they will have told you of my death and I’m sure that you and your conniving, traitorous mother will be wondering why I have done this. Why I gave myself to the Ministry. I am sure that you cannot fathom why I, Lucius Augustus Malfoy, would have stooped to such a thing.

Draco’s fingertips dug into his thighs during the pause. He waited for his father to continue, for the guillotine blade to drop.

Imagine my horror when the Dark Lord himself came to me two days ago and informed me that my son, my only heir and namesake, was engaging in acts too depraved to name with none other than Harry Potter, the sworn enemy of our world.

Even through the thick wool of his trousers, Draco’s fingernails were making marks on the flesh of his thighs.

Unfortunately, I was not surprised. I remember all to well your proclivities for these types of activities. I was forced to grovel before the Dark Lord, to beg forgiveness for bringing such a loathsome animal into this world. The Dark Lord accused me, his most faithful servant, of treachery. He accused me of turning from him, of secretly following the path of my faithless wife. Of secretly condoning the abhorrent behavior of my son.

Draco’s eyes flew open. The letter was on the floor now, having becoming too hot for Pansy to hold, and was beginning to smoke.

It is because of you that I am forced to prove my allegiance to the Dark Lord. No words I said would convince him that I have anything but distaste and disgust for you, that I deplore the very thought of you. Only by giving him my life can I prove my devotion to him.

The letter started to curl at the corners, turning black and glowing orange. Lucius’ voice grew louder.

As much as I despise your mother, I can pass knowing that she at least never had to know of your vileness. I am glad that she was never made to feel what I feel now, that she never knew the truth about her own child. I hope my words have impressed upon you the shame and disgrace that you have brought to me, the shame and disgrace that you have given our good name. I only hope by sacrificing myself, the Dark Lord will see fit to forgive me and to keep this, my most horrible secret.

Some will call my actions cowardly, I know. But you should understand that by doing this, by giving my life, I have saved the little nobility that remains to the Malfoy name. If you have any sense of decency left, you will follow in my footsteps before your disease is revealed. My only regret is that I let you live after I learned what you were as a child. I should have killed you and the Nott boy as well.

The last bit of parchment exploded with a loud pop, tall orange flames flying into the air before the letter burned itself out.

Pansy and Draco sat in silence for what seemed like forever.

Then Draco stood.

“I have to pack my things,” he said, voice as heavy and flat as a river stone.

“Draco, I am so sorry, love. I know you idolized your father, but he’s a nutter, Draco, he’s--”

“Shut up!” Draco shrieked, face flushing an ugly puce. He calmed down at once, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Pansy watched in horror as blood began to drip from his palms to the carpet below.

“Draco, you’re hurting yourself…”

“I have to pack my things,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He walked to the wardrobe and starting taking out his clothes, piece by piece. Not knowing what else to do, Pansy followed him, folding the clothes with her wand. Blood streaked each piece, so she cleaned them with a separate spell.

“What about Harry?” Pansy said at last.

Draco didn’t answer.

Pansy put her hand on his shoulder. He flinched away.

“Draco, you can’t just leave without speaking to him.”

“My mother is waiting. She is all that matters now. She is all I have left.”

“That’s not true. You have me. And you have Harry.”

Draco turned to face her. “You heard what my father said. There is no more Harry. We are done.”

Pansy narrowed her eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I think I’ve made myself rather clear.”

Pansy stared at Draco in horror. “You love Harry. I’ve never seen you so happy, you can’t just—“

Draco looked blandly at his bleeding palms.

“Shut it, Pansy. You don’t know anything. Potter was a phase, nothing more. He is a danger and a liability. I am going to marry you, produce an heir, and try to bring some respectability back to my family name.”

“Oh really? You’re just going to break up with Harry after spending the last week and a half in an absolute state over him? And who said I was still going to marry you anyway?”

“Of course you will. What better offer have you got?”

Pansy jabbed her finger in Draco’s chest.

“You are a bloody coward. Why are you doing this all? Because your bigoted, mental father decided that the only way to prove how great of a Death Eater he was was to kill himself? I know it hurts to lose him, Draco, but don’t be a fucking prat. Don’t throw everything away for your family name. After the war, I have a feeling names won’t mean anything anymore.”

Draco sneered at her. “I’m doing this because I want to. The Malfoys have a history that dates back over one thousand years. We are one of the most respected families in the entire wizarding world and I will not allow that to be destroyed. Being with Harry was a mistake. A mistake I will not continue making.”

“So what are you going to do? Take the Mark? Join forces with Voldemort and help him kill Harry?”

Draco was unable to hide a look of pain before he answered.

“No, of course not. I’m simply going to live my life in a respectable manner. Besides, I don’t think he can win against Harry. Our wedding will go on as planned. I will be a faithful husband and dedicated father. You will be privy to an enormous fortune and a respectable amount of power as the new Madame Malfoy.”

Pansy spat on the ground at Draco’s feet.

“You make me sick. I’m not marrying you, you self centered, unfeeling brat. If you can leave Harry when you both need each other more than you’ve ever needed anything, then you’re a bigger coward than I ever thought possible. I really thought you’d outgrow this Malfoy madness at some point, but obviously not. Well, I’ve got news for you. I’m not going to marry you. I’m in love with someone. Someone who’s not just using me because he’s a frightened, soulless wanker.”

Draco was truly stunned. “What?”

“Yes. Oh, I know it must be hard for you to believe, but it’s true. While you’ve been off with Harry, I’ve been off with Teddy. We’re in love.”

Draco burst out laughing. “Nott? You’re going to marry Nott? Oh, honestly Pansy, you’ll have to do better than that. The Notts are nothing but penniless aristocrats! He’s been betrothed to Tracey Davis since birth so that his family can absorb the Davis family fortune! He’s not going to give that up for you.”

“My family has money, you arse. We’re telling everyone over Christmas hols. The Davis family will just have to get over it. I suggest you prepare Narcissa for the shock of calling off our wedding.”

Draco stopped laughing. “You can’t do this to me.”

“Yes I can. Being married to someone who only wants to touch me in order to make a baby doesn’t really appeal to me. Being married to someone who is in love with someone else borders on insanity, and though you’re trying, you’ve not driven me quite there yet.”

Draco squared his shoulders. “Fine, then. I’m sure it won’t be a problem to replace you. Give Nott my best.”

“What are you going to tell Harry?”

“Nothing. As I said, he was a phase and mistake.”

Pansy curled her lip in disgust. “You know, Draco, self denial is only attractive in monks and martyrs. Certainly not Slytherins. Or Malfoys. I thought the point of being rich and powerful was that you got to have anything you wanted. And you want Harry.”

“Sorry to disappoint you. Now if you don’t mind, I have to go. I have to go home and bury my father.”

“Putting his body in the ground won’t bury him, you know. As long as you let him win, he might as well still be alive, still looking over your shoulder and telling when to jump and exactly how high.”

Draco brushed Pansy’s shoulder as he made his out the door. She followed at his heels.

“Coward!” she yelled at his back. “You know that what you and Harry have is none of the awful things your father said. Is Harry gross, Draco? Is it vile when he touches you? Or tells you that he loves you? Is it, Draco?”

Draco stopped and turned around, robes floating around him like a storm.

“It is now, Pansy. My father killed himself because of me. Don’t you get it?”

Pansy got right in Draco’s face.

“Your father killed himself because he was a narrow minded arse. If he hadn’t always been, he wouldn’t have been in jail in the first place.”

Draco’s eyes flared. He backhanded Pansy hard enough to knock her down.

“Don’t you ever speak to me again.”

Pansy touched her fingers to her lip. It was bleeding. She looked up just as Draco disappeared around a bend in the corridor.

“Good-bye Lucius!” she cat called. “That’s who you are now, he’d be so happy! You’ll finally make daddy proud! Too bad he won’t be here to see it!”

Teddy came sprinting around the corner as she hauled herself off the ground. He took one look at her lip and froze.

“Did Malfoy do that?” he sneered.

“I’m fine, Teddy. I have to go to the infirmary.”

Teddy stepped forward and looked at Pansy’s cut lip.

“It doesn’t look that bad. I could probably heal it for you.”

Pansy laughed without mirth.

“I’m not going for my lip, Teddy. I’m going to see Potter. Lucius Malfoy killed himself and Draco’s lost his fucking mind. He’s leaving right now with is mother to go home.”

“Without saying anything to Harry?”

Pansy nodded her head. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked.

“No. I think you’d better leave this to us girls.”

Teddy nodded sadly and walked Pansy to the door of the common room. All eyes were on them. As she disappeared down the hall, a thought occurred to him.

“What does she mean by ‘us girls’?”

**

Pansy stood in front of the Fat Lady, growing more and more frustrated as the moments wore on.

“Look, you fat pudding of a hag, this is a bloody emergency. It concerns Harry bloody Potter. Open the fuck up!”

The Fat Lady had stopped responding long ago. She simply sat, arms crossed over her ample bosom, and glared at Pansy.

Pansy’s rage finally spilled over and she launched herself at the portrait, feet and fists flying.

“You cow! You great gelatinous cunt!” she shrieked.

“Oh, you think you’re threatening do you? After Sirius Black your little kicks and spits are nothing, you foul mouthed troll!”

“You open up now!”

The Fat Lady was getting ready to retort when she did, in fact, swing wide open. On the other side, Hermione Granger was standing with her wand at the ready.

“Pansy! What on earth are you doing? We could hear you beating on the portrait.”

Pansy stood back, panting. She reached and grabbed Hermione by the arm.

“Come with me, Granger. Harry’s going to need you.”

**

Harry was waiting nervously for Draco to arrive. It had been at least an hour since Dumbledore had come by and told him about Lucius Malfoy’s suicide. The Headmaster said that Draco was leaving with his mother, but Harry simply refused to believe that he would leave without saying good-bye.

He knew something was definitely very wrong when Pansy and Hermione came into his room.

“Where’s Draco?” he asked, rising from the bed.

Pansy put her hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him back down.

“Sit down, Harry. I’ve got some really, really bad news.”

**

In the end, Pansy allowed Harry to use Occlumency on her to see her memory of the event. Each time she tried to tell him, she found that she couldn’t. She had never seen anyone with so much pain in his eyes and she couldn’t bear to add to it. It was an easy way out, she knew, but it was the only way to let Harry know what really happened without breaking her own heart in the process. When it was done, she opened her eyes and looked to the stricken Gryffindor. Harry was sitting in his bed, his arms crossed over his chest and his head turned away, doing his very best not to cry.

“Harry, you see how it is. He’s mad with grief. He loves you, I know he does. He doesn’t know what he’s doing right now. He’d just gotten over his fear of losing you, then this. I’m surprised he’s even standing, what with all the stress. When all of this hits him, he’s going to have a meltdown. He pretends to be so strong, but he’s not, Harry, he’s not. He’ll be back, I know he will. I give him a week, tops, and he’ll be begging you to take him back.”

Harry shrugged as nonchalantly as possible.

“Whatever. I knew he had problems with…us. Guilt about it. I’ve been expecting something like this, even without Lucius’ death. It’s no big deal. Like you said, he’s always been a coward. I should have known I couldn’t change it.”

Pansy sighed.

“He’s not a coward, Harry, not really. He’s just scared and confused. All he’s had to look to his whole life is his father, and we all know what kind of example that must have been. But no matter how much Draco loved him, he knows that Lucius was wrong. He was so relieved when his mother renounced the Dark Lord. He knew that eventually he’d have to live up to his family and everything it stood for. He was supposed to get Marked that summer when Lucius was arrested, did you know that? He actually talked about running away to avoid it. He just needs time, Harry. I think now that Lucius is dead, he might actually find the courage to come into his own. I really do.”

Harry sniffed. “Or come into his Lucius-ness.”

“Harry,” Pansy pleaded.

Harry sighed. “Thanks for telling me Pansy. At least now I know not to make a fool of myself, sending him letters and the like. Worrying myself sick about him.”

Pansy stood. “Harry, I don’t know what I can say to convince you. But I know I’m right. Draco loves you, he does. He’s just never…I don’t know. I can’t defend him to you. The situation is what it is and you have to make up your own mind. All I can do is tell you what I know to be true and beg you not to give up on him so easily.”

“Thanks,” Harry said quietly.

Pansy gave him a quick squeeze and said good-bye.

Hermione sat, staring at her friend, at a complete loss for what to do. She stood, walked to his bedside and put her hand on his back.

“Harry? Are you okay? What can I do?”

“Why can’t I have anything? Why does everything I love get taken from me?”

Hermione gave him a tight squeeze.

“It won’t always be this way. Maybe Pansy is right. Maybe he’ll come around.”

Harry flopped back in the bed.

“I don’t care if he does. I’m through with him. You don’t treat someone this way if you have any feelings for them at all. He can go fuck himself.”

Hermione wanted to say a million things about how everyone knew Draco was a terrible, unfeeling brat. She wanted to remind Harry that Draco had spent his entire career at school making Harry miserable. She wanted to point out that Draco had always been a coward.

But the pain in Harry’s eyes had not gone away. His fingers had not stopped twisting into the bedclothes and his breath had not yet slowed down. His lips had not yet stopped trembling. No matter what Harry said, Draco Malfoy had broken his heart.