The First Great Fan- An Epilogue

Wow, I am touched. Three reviews on the first day and with such a scanty little chapter.
Hope this meets with your expectations

Chapter Two: Predictions

Sitting on her bed in her family’s home, Pansy read the pages over and over.
“It’s not fair.” she grumbled. “Potter is gonna be married and have a family. Even that mudblood Granger is in here. What about me?” she growled as she glared at the pages. “Why can’t I have my dreams? Why can’t I be Draco’s wife and have that cute little boy in this prediction?”
Again, she turned to the part about the Malfoy’s and sighed heavily. “Oh, to be Mrs. Draco Malfoy and send our perfect son off to Hogwarts.” She cooed at the script. “He should be mine. I’m not crazy about the name, but I could live with it, if he had a cute middle name . . . like Scorpius Marcus after that gorgeous Quidditch captain from our first two years.”
Pansy’s eyes went glassy as she cuddled down in her pillows and dreamed of a life with her handsome blond man. “That’s it! I must be his wife. I love playing with his hair and this says it is getting thin on the top. I am the women in this prediction. I am gonna go see Draco tomorrow. It’s about time he started spending more time with me, again.”
And she slid under the covers and cuddled her new book until she fell deeply asleep.

As soon as Lucius Malfoy left the Manor with his wife, Draco rushed to his room and pulled out the latest copy of the Daily Prophet.
The cover story was about Arthur Weasley’s promotion to assistant Minister of Magic and how his family had been crucial to the outcome of the war, as Ronald had been one of Harry Potter’s closest friends and supporters.
It was the continual flow of stories like this that had instigated Lucius’ sudden cancellation of the paper and Draco had conveniently kept his deliveries arriving in his bedroom.
The story was just as boring as all of the others, but Draco was more interested in the large photo that was plastered across the page, taking up over half of the space.
The entire Weasley family, including the surviving twin and that pretentious prat Percy, were gathered together along with a smiling Harry.
He looked like his happiness was forced and the attention was making him uncomfortable.
Draco smiled at the idea of Harry squirming to try to escape the limelights again, “Just like in school,” he said to the image. “You always hated being the center of attention, didn’t you, Potter? I knew it, but I teased you about it anyway. What would you say if I accused you of horning into Old Weasel’s big day, huh?”
As he imagined the reaction it would get, a crack sound shook him away from the picture. A house elf in an old discarded linen tablecloth, tied around him like a toga, stood in his bedroom doorway.
“What is it Roldo?” he asked and the elf fidgeted. “Just tell me and no holding back.”
“Master has a guest,” Roldo said gritting his teeth in frustration. “The pug girl is here.”
“Pansy? Damn, what could she want now?” Draco said, shoving the paper under his pillow. “Okay, Roldo. I’ll go down. Where is she?”
“In the garden, Master Draco.” The elf said, again grinding his molars together.
“Stop that!” Draco yelled as he stood. “I’ve told you, the sound is irritating.” At the door he turned and regarded the elf once more. “Plus, I’d hate to have you ruin your teeth.” he added then left the room.
Roldo, who was Dobby’s younger brother, smiled at the retreating boy’s back and apparated out of the room.
Pansy was admiring the tapestry in the Manor’s visiting room when Draco entered. Her finger traced his father’s lineage and rested on the end of the line . . Draco himself.
“If you dirty that, my mother will hex you into next summer.” he announced, glaring at the other Slytherin. “She’s a fastidious woman.”
Pansy jumped, jerking her hand away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t do anything like that. I just wanted to see you.” and the hand that had been on the tapestry lifted to Draco’s chest.
The blond looked down at the hand, then up at the smug-looking girl. Pansy smiled as she traced lazy circles across his shirt. “We used to be so close, Drake. . . I’ve missed you.” She said.
“You’ve missed a lot of people, I suppose. It’s hard work getting into society after being on the loosing side. I understand, you know?” Draco said, shifting so that her hand lost contact. “I’m doing the same thing and it doesn’t help me to be associated with others in the same position. I can’t be a stepping stone for your rise, Parkinson.”
Pansy jerked back as if slapped. “That’s not what I meant, Drake. I really like you. I thought we were more than just friends.” She said, her voice filling with a suggestion of a sultry tone. “We could be.”
Draco turned back and scowled. “You were wrong. I’ve never felt that way about anyone. . . anyone in Slytherin, at least. You aren’t in my plans, Pansy. I’d like you to leave.” He said, his voice full of ire.
Roldo appeared at the door when Draco motioned her toward it. Pansy stomped through it and out of the manor.
As she rushed down the tree-lined path, the slytherin girl’s mind raced ahead of her. “He’s just trying to protect himself. He belongs with me. He never felt that way about anyone else. That’s what he meant. Who else did he know, outside of our house . . . Not that stupid Weasley girl or that mud blood. . . He could never feel that way toward them. He just needs something to convince him how perfect we are together . . . Some connection.”
As she apparated home, another thought came to her “ Our sweet little son is depending on me.”
That night, Pansy went to her mother’s study and swept across the titles of the books on her shelf. A memory had found her of a story she had been told in secret. The tale of her own conception.
Pansy pulled the book from the shelf and flipped to the potion she needed.
A smile filled her pug-face as she read the ingredients and the description of its effects.
Pansy Parkinson had a plan.