Suspicions and Pride
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,838
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,838
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Malfoy
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or the characters of the world. They belong to JK.Rowling et al. No infringement of legal rights is intended.
*
Draco allowed Pansy’s hands to roam down past his waist with a languid air of detachment, trailing kisses along her collarbone as she did. Pulling away from her regretfully, the blonde looked up, puzzlement clearing her lust-clouded eyes.
“Sorry, “ he said, pulling his robes into a less rumpled state. “I’ve got to patrol the corridors this evening.” Pansy pouted, regrettably, the facial expression was not remotely cute. He crushed the thought instantly, the relationship was not based on the relative merits of Pansy Parkinson; rather the position her family held. The Parkinsons were an old strain of purebloods, perfect to add to the Malfoy line. It had been his father’s arrangement and the relationship cultivated. Pansy and his mother even got on fairly well, though Narcissa’s opinion of Pansy’s taste was not impressive.
“I could come to your room later?” she offered, a hopeful note creeping into her voice. Pansy had managed to snag Draco Malfoy in their sixth year, something she’d found miraculous beyond belief, and thus was holding on tightly. He shook his head, kissing her lightly on the cheek by way of a goodbye.
“Granger’s been around all day,” he told her, knotting his green striped tie more securely. “Wouldn’t surprise me if she’s in the common-room all evening.” Pansy smirked, and wrapped her arms around his neck while kissing him firmly on the mouth.
“You could always sneak into the girls’ dormitory,” she said in a rough whisper, twirling a piece of his hair around hingeinger idly. Draco disentangled her hands from his and stepped back.
“Sorry, love,” he said softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Duty calls,” he added with a twist of the lips at the irony. Managing to step over the mop and bucket with difficulty, and a narrow miss at the bottle of scouring solution, Draco extricated himself from the cupboard on the third corridor.
*
The common room was empty as the giggling maiden, covering her mouth with her hands as her shoulders shook, let him into the place. The fire was low in the grate, leaping little flames still alight let him know that she’d already been there. The Mudblood. It was beneath him to share living space with the dirty little muggle-lover but what could he do?
The candle-light was warm, throwing shadows into the corners, oddly-shaped. The portraits, Gregory the Mild-Mannered, one of the first prefects, and Katherine Longhorn, who had discovered a combinatof dof doxy poison and Kneazle fur produced a solution of Pax Draught strong enough to convert some of Grindlewald’s supporters, were sleepy. The background ticking of the clock was un-evasive, Draco sent it a fleeting look, ten minutes to eleven.
The letter on the desk had arrived this morning, just as he was finishing his breakfast. He’d stuffed it into his pocket to read later, and forgotten it. His mother’s elegant and flowing script was recognisable as he slit the envelope with a quick movement of his finger. The stamped black seal was broken.
Draco,
As October approaches, my anxieties are growing. Your father left the estate in considerable confusion and naturally I have no idea as to the execution of such matters. Soon, my son, you must take up the reins of Malfoy Manor.
Dinner with the Parkinsons on Thursday was most enlightening, I am so glad you have clearly taken your father’s wishes into account. He will be most happy to receive the news that your engagement looks set to go ahead. I do not want you to disappoint him, Draco. That dreadful place will take its toll on him, even if his release comes as hoped. His plans for you were at the foremost in his mind.
These plans remain a concern. Without Lucius to put into place the initial measures, and the disgraceful loss of standing we must endure, your decision must arrive soon.
I expect your owl,
Mother
He scrunched the parchment into a tiny ball and crammed it back into his pocket, dropping with a heavy sigh into the comfortable armchair drawn up to the fire and closed his eyes. The door opened, and without opening his eyes to see, he knew Granger had entered.
She hovered. Bloody hell and a cold frost on Merlin’s balls, she was hovering. He leant his head back, suddenly the pressure building up behind his temples was excrutiatingly painful.
“Malfoy?” The gods, she sounded, timid? He openee eye eye, and looked straight at her.
“I can understand the desire to see what real witches and wizards do in their spare time is tantalizing you, Granger, but I’d appreciate the mediocre bit of space this common-room allows me take,” he drawled, taking full relish in the white flooding her face as she took in the insult, that her teeth bit down on her lower lip so hard that she had to have drawn blood. She took a physical step back, her hand reaching for the wooden back of the chair anddeddded barely perceptibly.
“Right,” she muttered, only just audible, and walked into her room, slamming the door hard behind her.
Draco leant back against the cushions and sighed once more, staring morosely into the flicker of the firelight. If he couldn’t deliberately provoke Potty and Weasel into the – so easily done – aggravation that was thoroughly amusing, Granger with her new habit of hanging about in the common room was a simpler target.
His eyebrows drew together at the thought, and he sat up, the red cushion he had leant on unawares slid to the floor. Granger wasn’t going to make it an obnoxious little habit of staying in this common room, was she? He groaned at the thought – the peace he had enjoyed for the first couple of months of term would be catastrophically shattered by the muggleborn breathing down his neck.
For the first few months, she’d spent most of her time in Gryffindor Tower, which very likely resulted from the fact that he spent most of his time in the common room. Truth be told, Draco shifted a little on the couch uneasily at the recollection, life in the Slytherin dungeons was beginning to be uncomfortable. With the majority of his supporters being children of Death Eaters, or purists, when the Order had made its presence felt in the summer, Slytherin had blaringly obviously lost a great deal of students. Those still in Slytherin were hardly fit to bear Salazar’s emblem, he scowled. The common room offered peace, a degree of space and somewhere he could think.
Snarling at the cheerful ticking clock, Malfoy kicked the cushion into a corner, and stalked into his room.
*
A/N:
The idea of a Pax Draught comes from the Latin, ‘pax’, meaning peace. Both Gregory the Mild-Mannered and Katherine Longhorn are invented. I thought some old Heads should grace the walls of the Head Boy and Girl’s study.
The curse Draco uses is my own invention. Personally, I’m not keen on the ejaculation, ‘Merlin!’ for a curse in the wizarding world all the time, so I will hopefully be able to come up with a few.
*
Draco allowed Pansy’s hands to roam down past his waist with a languid air of detachment, trailing kisses along her collarbone as she did. Pulling away from her regretfully, the blonde looked up, puzzlement clearing her lust-clouded eyes.
“Sorry, “ he said, pulling his robes into a less rumpled state. “I’ve got to patrol the corridors this evening.” Pansy pouted, regrettably, the facial expression was not remotely cute. He crushed the thought instantly, the relationship was not based on the relative merits of Pansy Parkinson; rather the position her family held. The Parkinsons were an old strain of purebloods, perfect to add to the Malfoy line. It had been his father’s arrangement and the relationship cultivated. Pansy and his mother even got on fairly well, though Narcissa’s opinion of Pansy’s taste was not impressive.
“I could come to your room later?” she offered, a hopeful note creeping into her voice. Pansy had managed to snag Draco Malfoy in their sixth year, something she’d found miraculous beyond belief, and thus was holding on tightly. He shook his head, kissing her lightly on the cheek by way of a goodbye.
“Granger’s been around all day,” he told her, knotting his green striped tie more securely. “Wouldn’t surprise me if she’s in the common-room all evening.” Pansy smirked, and wrapped her arms around his neck while kissing him firmly on the mouth.
“You could always sneak into the girls’ dormitory,” she said in a rough whisper, twirling a piece of his hair around hingeinger idly. Draco disentangled her hands from his and stepped back.
“Sorry, love,” he said softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Duty calls,” he added with a twist of the lips at the irony. Managing to step over the mop and bucket with difficulty, and a narrow miss at the bottle of scouring solution, Draco extricated himself from the cupboard on the third corridor.
*
The common room was empty as the giggling maiden, covering her mouth with her hands as her shoulders shook, let him into the place. The fire was low in the grate, leaping little flames still alight let him know that she’d already been there. The Mudblood. It was beneath him to share living space with the dirty little muggle-lover but what could he do?
The candle-light was warm, throwing shadows into the corners, oddly-shaped. The portraits, Gregory the Mild-Mannered, one of the first prefects, and Katherine Longhorn, who had discovered a combinatof dof doxy poison and Kneazle fur produced a solution of Pax Draught strong enough to convert some of Grindlewald’s supporters, were sleepy. The background ticking of the clock was un-evasive, Draco sent it a fleeting look, ten minutes to eleven.
The letter on the desk had arrived this morning, just as he was finishing his breakfast. He’d stuffed it into his pocket to read later, and forgotten it. His mother’s elegant and flowing script was recognisable as he slit the envelope with a quick movement of his finger. The stamped black seal was broken.
Draco,
As October approaches, my anxieties are growing. Your father left the estate in considerable confusion and naturally I have no idea as to the execution of such matters. Soon, my son, you must take up the reins of Malfoy Manor.
Dinner with the Parkinsons on Thursday was most enlightening, I am so glad you have clearly taken your father’s wishes into account. He will be most happy to receive the news that your engagement looks set to go ahead. I do not want you to disappoint him, Draco. That dreadful place will take its toll on him, even if his release comes as hoped. His plans for you were at the foremost in his mind.
These plans remain a concern. Without Lucius to put into place the initial measures, and the disgraceful loss of standing we must endure, your decision must arrive soon.
I expect your owl,
Mother
He scrunched the parchment into a tiny ball and crammed it back into his pocket, dropping with a heavy sigh into the comfortable armchair drawn up to the fire and closed his eyes. The door opened, and without opening his eyes to see, he knew Granger had entered.
She hovered. Bloody hell and a cold frost on Merlin’s balls, she was hovering. He leant his head back, suddenly the pressure building up behind his temples was excrutiatingly painful.
“Malfoy?” The gods, she sounded, timid? He openee eye eye, and looked straight at her.
“I can understand the desire to see what real witches and wizards do in their spare time is tantalizing you, Granger, but I’d appreciate the mediocre bit of space this common-room allows me take,” he drawled, taking full relish in the white flooding her face as she took in the insult, that her teeth bit down on her lower lip so hard that she had to have drawn blood. She took a physical step back, her hand reaching for the wooden back of the chair anddeddded barely perceptibly.
“Right,” she muttered, only just audible, and walked into her room, slamming the door hard behind her.
Draco leant back against the cushions and sighed once more, staring morosely into the flicker of the firelight. If he couldn’t deliberately provoke Potty and Weasel into the – so easily done – aggravation that was thoroughly amusing, Granger with her new habit of hanging about in the common room was a simpler target.
His eyebrows drew together at the thought, and he sat up, the red cushion he had leant on unawares slid to the floor. Granger wasn’t going to make it an obnoxious little habit of staying in this common room, was she? He groaned at the thought – the peace he had enjoyed for the first couple of months of term would be catastrophically shattered by the muggleborn breathing down his neck.
For the first few months, she’d spent most of her time in Gryffindor Tower, which very likely resulted from the fact that he spent most of his time in the common room. Truth be told, Draco shifted a little on the couch uneasily at the recollection, life in the Slytherin dungeons was beginning to be uncomfortable. With the majority of his supporters being children of Death Eaters, or purists, when the Order had made its presence felt in the summer, Slytherin had blaringly obviously lost a great deal of students. Those still in Slytherin were hardly fit to bear Salazar’s emblem, he scowled. The common room offered peace, a degree of space and somewhere he could think.
Snarling at the cheerful ticking clock, Malfoy kicked the cushion into a corner, and stalked into his room.
*
A/N:
The idea of a Pax Draught comes from the Latin, ‘pax’, meaning peace. Both Gregory the Mild-Mannered and Katherine Longhorn are invented. I thought some old Heads should grace the walls of the Head Boy and Girl’s study.
The curse Draco uses is my own invention. Personally, I’m not keen on the ejaculation, ‘Merlin!’ for a curse in the wizarding world all the time, so I will hopefully be able to come up with a few.