Harry Potter and The Dragon’s Treasure (BP6)
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
43
Views:
24,560
Reviews:
198
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
43
Views:
24,560
Reviews:
198
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.
A Slytherin Gift
Chapter Number/Total: 39/43
Chapter Title: A Slytherin Gift
Words: 3000 Words
Harry yawned, scanning the Daily Prophet as he sipped tea. The word 'Quidditch' caught his eye in one article and he paused to read, then sighed when he saw what it really was. Terentius Gamp, owner of the Appleby Arrows, was getting married. Harry could not care less.
He took the corner of the page, about to turn it, when he saw the name of the woman he was marrying. A prickle of anger flowed through him at the sight of the name, but he pressed it down. He looked up at his husband, who was feeding the baby. "Draco?"
Draco was trying to convince his son that eating mashed carrots was better than wearing them – with mixed results. "Mmm?" he hummed as he pretended to fly the 'broom' that was really a spoon into Valen's mouth.
Hermione and Ron looked up absently from their meals.
"Did you know Pansy's getting married?" Harry said flatly.
Draco paused, spoon just in front of Valen's mouth, who looked up at him, apparently confused with his father's abrupt stop in the game. Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them and returned to feeding his son. "That makes sense," he said in a bored-sounding voice. "Most pure-blood marriages are arranged for the year after finishing Hogwarts."
Harry lifted an eyebrow.
"Who's she marrying?" Hermione asked, looking between the two men.
"Terentius Gamp," Harry answered. "He owns the Arrows."
Ron pulled a face, wrinkling his nose. "Merlin, that bloke's got to be at least forty years old."
"Her father would want someone with money and influence," Draco said matter-of-factly.
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know how anyone could be happy that way," she sighed.
Harry agreed.
"I doubt her father is concerned with her happiness," Draco drawled. "Or at least, not in the way you think. He wants the continuation of his family line and the power they hold."
"Well, that's not very fair to her, is it?" Hermione responded.
Harry could think of other ways Pansy's father had not been very fair to her. He shivered in disgust.
Valen squeaked and made a grab for the spoon and Draco let him take it. "Don't complain to me when your hair is all sticky with it later," he told his son, who seemed to be either attempting to feed himself or paint his face – he was not sure which. Draco sighed and turned back to the adults at the table. "Fair isn't really an issue to most wizards of their standing," he said. It could be frustrating to explain things like this to these three.
Hermione sighed again. "We know," she said.
Harry wondered who Draco would have been forced to marry if things had been different. He shook his head. "Well, the bloke's definitely got money and power. He owns the Arrows and a chain of apothecaries."
Draco picked at his food, rolling a sausage around on his plate with his fork. He was thinking about the Love Potion, of course, and what Pansy had done to them. Especially the way she had made sure the 'incident' with Theo had been made public. It had contributed to a lot of their problems and had been one of the reasons he'd bought the Prophet.
Harry set the paper down and leaned into Draco, pressing his lips to his temple. "What?" he said against the skin.
"I think I will send them a wedding gift," Draco said suddenly.
Hermione looked over with furrowed brows and Ron paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth.
"What?" Harry said again, pulling back to stare at Draco.
Draco speared the sausage and nibbled on it. When he swallowed, he turned his face to Harry's. "I think we need to send a message."
Harry was confused. "With a wedding gift?" he asked.
"We send a gift and I know Pansy will want to talk. It will ... confuse her," Draco explained.
"Probably," said Ron, finally taking that bite. "Confused me."
"So, you want to talk to her?" asked Harry.
Draco arched an eyebrow. "We bought the Daily Prophet and fired half the staff over what they wrote. Do you think we should really let Pansy do what she did and not make sure she is warned that anything in the future will be met with some type of punishment?"
Unconsciously, Harry laid a hand on his stomach. "No, it would be good," he agreed, and remembered when they had talked right after the mess at Hogwarts.
Draco smiled then, that look he got whenever he was reminded that Harry was pregnant. He leaned in, placing his hand atop his husband's and kissed him gently.
Harry smiled too. "I suppose you're sending a gift then," he said.
"A very expensive one," Draco replied. "The kind that will make her family and her groom notice."
"What are you going to tell her when she talks to you?" Harry asked, pulling back to look at Draco again.
Draco considered the answer for a moment, especially in light of Ron and Hermione in the room. "I know things about her she is not likely to wish me to share with others, especially her potential husband," Draco answered.
"So, you're going to send her a wedding gift to get her to talk to you, and then blackmail her," Hermione offered.
"Harry married a Slytherin," Ron quipped.
"Hey, are we forgetting what happened last October?" said Harry seriously. "How are we supposed to be sure something like that wouldn't happen again? Or worse even."
Hermione raised her hands in front of her.
Draco arched an eyebrow at his husband. "So you approve?"
Harry sighed. "I suppose so," he answered. "It's true. What if she did try something else?"
"Then she will be very, very sorry by the time I am through with her," Draco replied, voice deep with the anger he felt when he remembered how much pain she had caused them.
Harry felt a little tingle of arousal. "Good," he nodded.
Draco loved the spark he saw in his lover's eyes at that and responded with a kiss.
Harry grinned and kissed him back, whispering, "Sexy," very quietly into his mouth.
Draco was just contemplating dragging his husband back to bed after breakfast when he heard Valen squeal and felt the plop of wet mashed carrots against his back.
Ron laughed loudly and Harry leaned around Draco to take a look at the smiling, extremely messy baby.
Valen did indeed have carrots in his hair as well as all over his face. He grinned at his Daddy and reached both sticky hands for him. "Dada!"
Harry shook his head, performing a Cleaning Charm before reaching to take Valen out of his chair. "Look what you did to your Daddy Draco," he said, grinning as well in amusement.
Draco sighed, figuring sex would have to wait until after the boy went down for a nap. "I'll go make arrangements for the gift," he told Harry, getting up and kissing the top of both his husband and his son's heads.
Harry nodded, holding Valen as he watched Draco leave the room.
***
It took a little research, but Draco found the absolutely perfect gift to send. It was a portrait of Aeneas Darcy, famous Seeker for the Arrows, 1923-1943. The portrait was by a well known painter, Caelia Waldron, the same woman that had painted Headmaster Dexter Fortescue’s portrait at Hogwarts. It was very expensive, of course. It was the sort of gift that would never go unnoticed or unremarked upon. Draco expected Terentius Gamp would be eager to meet the 'old friend' of Pansy’s who would send such an extravagant present.
Gamp sent a letter by owl inviting Draco and his husband to dinner at a very upscale wizarding restaurant later that week, saying how excited he was to meet someone so important to his wife to be.
Pansy’s hastily scrawled message arrived within the hour after Gamp’s, asking Draco to come to visit her “as soon as possible.” She suggested tea at the Parkinson Estate – and to “feel free to Floo” her with a reply if he could get away immediately. The message had been sent by express courier of one of her family’s house-elves. Draco made her wait until the next day before replying via his own courier that he would be there Thursday afternoon, in time for tea. The dinner with her fiancé was supposed to be Friday evening. He figured she would be absolutely distraught by the time two more days passed.
Draco had been to the Parkinson Mansion before, of course, but it had been many years. They had been children then and friends. Now he stood at the door and contemplated the knocker shaped like an eagle’s head. “May I announce you?” it asked.
“Draco Malfoy to see Miss Pansy Parkinson,” Draco told it. A few minutes later, Pansy herself opened the door. She was dressed for afternoon tea, as was Draco.
“Draco,” she said, sounding a bit breathless, “I am so glad you could make it.” She stepped back, gesturing for him to enter.
He allowed her house-elf to take his cloak but didn’t reach to take her hands as would usually be the proper greeting for a friend. Draco nodded in acknowledgement and she stood awkwardly for a minute before sighing and leading him to the sitting room.
He waited for her to sit and watched as she poured the tea for the two of them. She added sugar and milk in his, apparently remembering the way he took it. Her hands shook enough that the cup rattled as she passed it to him.
If she thought he would make it easier and start the conversation, she was mistaken. Draco waited, his face impassive as she set her own cup down and twisted her fingers in the fabric of her skirt. Finally, she looked up. “You sent a gift,” she began. “I … I hadn’t expected that.”
Draco waited a few heartbeats, letting her squirm before he answered. “I would think it customary for an old friend to acknowledge your wedding,” he drawled, and was pleased with the flush on her face.
“We haven’t spoken … in a long time,” she stammered.
“Not since Hogwarts,” he said simply.
Her flush spread and she didn’t meet his eyes. “That silly game, I know. You know, I really shouldn’t drink in public,” she explained with a false laugh.
Draco knew she was trying to pass off the Truth or Dare incident as if she had never given him the potion. And now that she had received the gift, she was confused and worried that he would seek revenge. Draco knew the way she thought. Looking back on it, he realised he should have seen it coming then.
He hadn’t sipped his tea yet. He lifted it and sniffed it pointedly. The gesture was not lost on her and she swallowed hard. He didn’t think she would be foolish enough to slip him something now and he could tell both by smell and by looking with his 'sense' that it wasn’t tampered with. He sipped it then, eyes raising to meet hers.
She looked away quickly, fingers returning to twist her skirt hem. She cleared her throat. “Ah, well Terentius was delighted with the gift, of course,” she continued, trying to make her voice light but only managing a bit too high of a pitch.
“Yes, I received his note,” Draco replied.
“Will you be accepting the invitation to dinner?” she asked.
“Yes,” Draco said, sipping the tea again.
Her breath caught and he could see her pulse speeding up in the vein at her throat. “Whatever possessed you to send such an extravagant gift, Draco?” she asked with that same false laugh. “I don’t know how you knew he wanted it.”
Draco arched an eyebrow, pleased with the opening. “Oh, I know a lot of things,” he said. “These days, between my family money and our reputations, there isn’t a lot that is out of Harry's or my reach.”
She quelled at that and he was pleased to see her register the implied threat.
“Did you know we bought the Daily Prophet?” he continued.
She paled and looked up. “No ... no, I didn’t,” she replied.
Draco could see her coming to the realisation that it meant he controlled the news – and with that could ruin her reputation or that of her family or her fiancé, if he wanted it to be so. “Will your father be at the wedding?” he asked suddenly and was gratified to see her eyes widen in surprise.
“Well, of course,” she stammered.
Felix Parkinson had never been publicly connected with Voldemort, so he had maintained his position and wealth. Draco knew that. He also knew that the man had supported the cause financially. But that was not the information that he was hinting at now. Draco set his empty cup and saucer down on the table and folded his hands, looking at her. “What have you told Gamp about me?”
She seemed to have trouble switching gears and blinked before pasting the fake smile back on her face. “Oh, you know, that we dated back before sixth year,” she answered.
“You let him think I was the first?” he asked, and watched the look of horror on her face.
“But … well, of course,” she stammered.
“What would Gamp's reaction be if he knew the truth, do you think?” Draco drawled.
She flushed scarlet and looked as if she had seen a Dementor sitting there instead of her old beau. “Draco, please, you can’t mean to ….”
Draco had been the second. Pansy’s own father had been her first. Just as his own father had molested Draco, of course. They both knew this about each other. “Why would an old friend want to come between you and your husband, Pansy? That would be a horrible thing to do, wouldn’t it?” Draco asked in a mock offended tone.
The blow hit home and Pansy’s mouth worked silently for a minute. Then she burst into tears. “Draco, please, I’m sorry. I didn’t think ... I was so angry and he ... You changed so quickly and we thought ….” She couldn’t seem to finish a sentence. She slid to her knees on the carpet and looked up at him. “Please, don’t. I’m sorry. If you do this, it will ruin my father, ruin me. No one will want me if they know.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed and his brows lowered. He reached out and took her chin in one hand, forcing her to look at him. “You tried to ruin my marriage,” he hissed, “and damned if I don’t know why, too.”
She flinched but didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry, Draco, I swear it.”
“I know you are,” Draco sneered. “You're sorry that it didn’t work. Sorry that you got caught. You wanted to punish me for turning away from you, turning my back on you. You wanted to punish Potter because of … everything, both before and during the war. Don’t you think I know the what and why? Why do you think I didn’t report you then? Why do you think you weren’t thrown out of Hogwarts and arrested for what you did to me?”
She was still crying and shaking. “Why?” she asked, obviously confused herself. She apparently couldn’t imagine why he hadn’t retaliated then.
His face softened just a little. “You saved my life back before everything. You were there when I needed you. I turned my back on you in sixth year. And you never knew why. It doesn’t make what you tried to do with Blaise that night or what you did during N.E.W.T.s acceptable.”
She seemed unable to ask again but waited, watching him like she was terrified of the answer now.
“This is your only warning, Pansy. If you ever, ever try anything again I will personally destroy you. Do you understand?” Draco hissed and she trembled.
“I promise. I will do nothing,” Pansy stammered.
He sighed and released her face. She fell back, still on her knees and trembling. Draco closed his eyes for a moment and was calm again when he looked at her. “We were friends and I don’t have many of those left from then,” he said softly. “I would like to see those of us who survived be happy with our lives – even you, Pansy.”
She was crying again, but it was clearly in relief now. “Thank you.”
“No, I don’t want it. You behave yourself and we are clear. Anything else and I will make you wish you had never been born,” he said, sounding and feeling tired now.
She seemed to get control of herself then, wiping her face and getting to her feet. “I understand,” she said softly.
Draco got to his feet now and she walked with him to the door. As the house-elf brought his cloak, he considered the young woman. “I think it would be good for both our families if we did have the dinner. Gamp and I have business interests that would be advantageous. I doubt if Harry will want to attend, but I will meet with your fiancé.”
She nodded. “I understand,” she repeated.
He allowed himself a small smile then. “Congratulations, Pansy. And I do hope that your marriage will be a happy one.” Draco left then. He couldn’t wait to get back to his own husband.
Chapter Title: A Slytherin Gift
Words: 3000 Words
Harry yawned, scanning the Daily Prophet as he sipped tea. The word 'Quidditch' caught his eye in one article and he paused to read, then sighed when he saw what it really was. Terentius Gamp, owner of the Appleby Arrows, was getting married. Harry could not care less.
He took the corner of the page, about to turn it, when he saw the name of the woman he was marrying. A prickle of anger flowed through him at the sight of the name, but he pressed it down. He looked up at his husband, who was feeding the baby. "Draco?"
Draco was trying to convince his son that eating mashed carrots was better than wearing them – with mixed results. "Mmm?" he hummed as he pretended to fly the 'broom' that was really a spoon into Valen's mouth.
Hermione and Ron looked up absently from their meals.
"Did you know Pansy's getting married?" Harry said flatly.
Draco paused, spoon just in front of Valen's mouth, who looked up at him, apparently confused with his father's abrupt stop in the game. Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them and returned to feeding his son. "That makes sense," he said in a bored-sounding voice. "Most pure-blood marriages are arranged for the year after finishing Hogwarts."
Harry lifted an eyebrow.
"Who's she marrying?" Hermione asked, looking between the two men.
"Terentius Gamp," Harry answered. "He owns the Arrows."
Ron pulled a face, wrinkling his nose. "Merlin, that bloke's got to be at least forty years old."
"Her father would want someone with money and influence," Draco said matter-of-factly.
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know how anyone could be happy that way," she sighed.
Harry agreed.
"I doubt her father is concerned with her happiness," Draco drawled. "Or at least, not in the way you think. He wants the continuation of his family line and the power they hold."
"Well, that's not very fair to her, is it?" Hermione responded.
Harry could think of other ways Pansy's father had not been very fair to her. He shivered in disgust.
Valen squeaked and made a grab for the spoon and Draco let him take it. "Don't complain to me when your hair is all sticky with it later," he told his son, who seemed to be either attempting to feed himself or paint his face – he was not sure which. Draco sighed and turned back to the adults at the table. "Fair isn't really an issue to most wizards of their standing," he said. It could be frustrating to explain things like this to these three.
Hermione sighed again. "We know," she said.
Harry wondered who Draco would have been forced to marry if things had been different. He shook his head. "Well, the bloke's definitely got money and power. He owns the Arrows and a chain of apothecaries."
Draco picked at his food, rolling a sausage around on his plate with his fork. He was thinking about the Love Potion, of course, and what Pansy had done to them. Especially the way she had made sure the 'incident' with Theo had been made public. It had contributed to a lot of their problems and had been one of the reasons he'd bought the Prophet.
Harry set the paper down and leaned into Draco, pressing his lips to his temple. "What?" he said against the skin.
"I think I will send them a wedding gift," Draco said suddenly.
Hermione looked over with furrowed brows and Ron paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth.
"What?" Harry said again, pulling back to stare at Draco.
Draco speared the sausage and nibbled on it. When he swallowed, he turned his face to Harry's. "I think we need to send a message."
Harry was confused. "With a wedding gift?" he asked.
"We send a gift and I know Pansy will want to talk. It will ... confuse her," Draco explained.
"Probably," said Ron, finally taking that bite. "Confused me."
"So, you want to talk to her?" asked Harry.
Draco arched an eyebrow. "We bought the Daily Prophet and fired half the staff over what they wrote. Do you think we should really let Pansy do what she did and not make sure she is warned that anything in the future will be met with some type of punishment?"
Unconsciously, Harry laid a hand on his stomach. "No, it would be good," he agreed, and remembered when they had talked right after the mess at Hogwarts.
Draco smiled then, that look he got whenever he was reminded that Harry was pregnant. He leaned in, placing his hand atop his husband's and kissed him gently.
Harry smiled too. "I suppose you're sending a gift then," he said.
"A very expensive one," Draco replied. "The kind that will make her family and her groom notice."
"What are you going to tell her when she talks to you?" Harry asked, pulling back to look at Draco again.
Draco considered the answer for a moment, especially in light of Ron and Hermione in the room. "I know things about her she is not likely to wish me to share with others, especially her potential husband," Draco answered.
"So, you're going to send her a wedding gift to get her to talk to you, and then blackmail her," Hermione offered.
"Harry married a Slytherin," Ron quipped.
"Hey, are we forgetting what happened last October?" said Harry seriously. "How are we supposed to be sure something like that wouldn't happen again? Or worse even."
Hermione raised her hands in front of her.
Draco arched an eyebrow at his husband. "So you approve?"
Harry sighed. "I suppose so," he answered. "It's true. What if she did try something else?"
"Then she will be very, very sorry by the time I am through with her," Draco replied, voice deep with the anger he felt when he remembered how much pain she had caused them.
Harry felt a little tingle of arousal. "Good," he nodded.
Draco loved the spark he saw in his lover's eyes at that and responded with a kiss.
Harry grinned and kissed him back, whispering, "Sexy," very quietly into his mouth.
Draco was just contemplating dragging his husband back to bed after breakfast when he heard Valen squeal and felt the plop of wet mashed carrots against his back.
Ron laughed loudly and Harry leaned around Draco to take a look at the smiling, extremely messy baby.
Valen did indeed have carrots in his hair as well as all over his face. He grinned at his Daddy and reached both sticky hands for him. "Dada!"
Harry shook his head, performing a Cleaning Charm before reaching to take Valen out of his chair. "Look what you did to your Daddy Draco," he said, grinning as well in amusement.
Draco sighed, figuring sex would have to wait until after the boy went down for a nap. "I'll go make arrangements for the gift," he told Harry, getting up and kissing the top of both his husband and his son's heads.
Harry nodded, holding Valen as he watched Draco leave the room.
***
It took a little research, but Draco found the absolutely perfect gift to send. It was a portrait of Aeneas Darcy, famous Seeker for the Arrows, 1923-1943. The portrait was by a well known painter, Caelia Waldron, the same woman that had painted Headmaster Dexter Fortescue’s portrait at Hogwarts. It was very expensive, of course. It was the sort of gift that would never go unnoticed or unremarked upon. Draco expected Terentius Gamp would be eager to meet the 'old friend' of Pansy’s who would send such an extravagant present.
Gamp sent a letter by owl inviting Draco and his husband to dinner at a very upscale wizarding restaurant later that week, saying how excited he was to meet someone so important to his wife to be.
Pansy’s hastily scrawled message arrived within the hour after Gamp’s, asking Draco to come to visit her “as soon as possible.” She suggested tea at the Parkinson Estate – and to “feel free to Floo” her with a reply if he could get away immediately. The message had been sent by express courier of one of her family’s house-elves. Draco made her wait until the next day before replying via his own courier that he would be there Thursday afternoon, in time for tea. The dinner with her fiancé was supposed to be Friday evening. He figured she would be absolutely distraught by the time two more days passed.
Draco had been to the Parkinson Mansion before, of course, but it had been many years. They had been children then and friends. Now he stood at the door and contemplated the knocker shaped like an eagle’s head. “May I announce you?” it asked.
“Draco Malfoy to see Miss Pansy Parkinson,” Draco told it. A few minutes later, Pansy herself opened the door. She was dressed for afternoon tea, as was Draco.
“Draco,” she said, sounding a bit breathless, “I am so glad you could make it.” She stepped back, gesturing for him to enter.
He allowed her house-elf to take his cloak but didn’t reach to take her hands as would usually be the proper greeting for a friend. Draco nodded in acknowledgement and she stood awkwardly for a minute before sighing and leading him to the sitting room.
He waited for her to sit and watched as she poured the tea for the two of them. She added sugar and milk in his, apparently remembering the way he took it. Her hands shook enough that the cup rattled as she passed it to him.
If she thought he would make it easier and start the conversation, she was mistaken. Draco waited, his face impassive as she set her own cup down and twisted her fingers in the fabric of her skirt. Finally, she looked up. “You sent a gift,” she began. “I … I hadn’t expected that.”
Draco waited a few heartbeats, letting her squirm before he answered. “I would think it customary for an old friend to acknowledge your wedding,” he drawled, and was pleased with the flush on her face.
“We haven’t spoken … in a long time,” she stammered.
“Not since Hogwarts,” he said simply.
Her flush spread and she didn’t meet his eyes. “That silly game, I know. You know, I really shouldn’t drink in public,” she explained with a false laugh.
Draco knew she was trying to pass off the Truth or Dare incident as if she had never given him the potion. And now that she had received the gift, she was confused and worried that he would seek revenge. Draco knew the way she thought. Looking back on it, he realised he should have seen it coming then.
He hadn’t sipped his tea yet. He lifted it and sniffed it pointedly. The gesture was not lost on her and she swallowed hard. He didn’t think she would be foolish enough to slip him something now and he could tell both by smell and by looking with his 'sense' that it wasn’t tampered with. He sipped it then, eyes raising to meet hers.
She looked away quickly, fingers returning to twist her skirt hem. She cleared her throat. “Ah, well Terentius was delighted with the gift, of course,” she continued, trying to make her voice light but only managing a bit too high of a pitch.
“Yes, I received his note,” Draco replied.
“Will you be accepting the invitation to dinner?” she asked.
“Yes,” Draco said, sipping the tea again.
Her breath caught and he could see her pulse speeding up in the vein at her throat. “Whatever possessed you to send such an extravagant gift, Draco?” she asked with that same false laugh. “I don’t know how you knew he wanted it.”
Draco arched an eyebrow, pleased with the opening. “Oh, I know a lot of things,” he said. “These days, between my family money and our reputations, there isn’t a lot that is out of Harry's or my reach.”
She quelled at that and he was pleased to see her register the implied threat.
“Did you know we bought the Daily Prophet?” he continued.
She paled and looked up. “No ... no, I didn’t,” she replied.
Draco could see her coming to the realisation that it meant he controlled the news – and with that could ruin her reputation or that of her family or her fiancé, if he wanted it to be so. “Will your father be at the wedding?” he asked suddenly and was gratified to see her eyes widen in surprise.
“Well, of course,” she stammered.
Felix Parkinson had never been publicly connected with Voldemort, so he had maintained his position and wealth. Draco knew that. He also knew that the man had supported the cause financially. But that was not the information that he was hinting at now. Draco set his empty cup and saucer down on the table and folded his hands, looking at her. “What have you told Gamp about me?”
She seemed to have trouble switching gears and blinked before pasting the fake smile back on her face. “Oh, you know, that we dated back before sixth year,” she answered.
“You let him think I was the first?” he asked, and watched the look of horror on her face.
“But … well, of course,” she stammered.
“What would Gamp's reaction be if he knew the truth, do you think?” Draco drawled.
She flushed scarlet and looked as if she had seen a Dementor sitting there instead of her old beau. “Draco, please, you can’t mean to ….”
Draco had been the second. Pansy’s own father had been her first. Just as his own father had molested Draco, of course. They both knew this about each other. “Why would an old friend want to come between you and your husband, Pansy? That would be a horrible thing to do, wouldn’t it?” Draco asked in a mock offended tone.
The blow hit home and Pansy’s mouth worked silently for a minute. Then she burst into tears. “Draco, please, I’m sorry. I didn’t think ... I was so angry and he ... You changed so quickly and we thought ….” She couldn’t seem to finish a sentence. She slid to her knees on the carpet and looked up at him. “Please, don’t. I’m sorry. If you do this, it will ruin my father, ruin me. No one will want me if they know.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed and his brows lowered. He reached out and took her chin in one hand, forcing her to look at him. “You tried to ruin my marriage,” he hissed, “and damned if I don’t know why, too.”
She flinched but didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry, Draco, I swear it.”
“I know you are,” Draco sneered. “You're sorry that it didn’t work. Sorry that you got caught. You wanted to punish me for turning away from you, turning my back on you. You wanted to punish Potter because of … everything, both before and during the war. Don’t you think I know the what and why? Why do you think I didn’t report you then? Why do you think you weren’t thrown out of Hogwarts and arrested for what you did to me?”
She was still crying and shaking. “Why?” she asked, obviously confused herself. She apparently couldn’t imagine why he hadn’t retaliated then.
His face softened just a little. “You saved my life back before everything. You were there when I needed you. I turned my back on you in sixth year. And you never knew why. It doesn’t make what you tried to do with Blaise that night or what you did during N.E.W.T.s acceptable.”
She seemed unable to ask again but waited, watching him like she was terrified of the answer now.
“This is your only warning, Pansy. If you ever, ever try anything again I will personally destroy you. Do you understand?” Draco hissed and she trembled.
“I promise. I will do nothing,” Pansy stammered.
He sighed and released her face. She fell back, still on her knees and trembling. Draco closed his eyes for a moment and was calm again when he looked at her. “We were friends and I don’t have many of those left from then,” he said softly. “I would like to see those of us who survived be happy with our lives – even you, Pansy.”
She was crying again, but it was clearly in relief now. “Thank you.”
“No, I don’t want it. You behave yourself and we are clear. Anything else and I will make you wish you had never been born,” he said, sounding and feeling tired now.
She seemed to get control of herself then, wiping her face and getting to her feet. “I understand,” she said softly.
Draco got to his feet now and she walked with him to the door. As the house-elf brought his cloak, he considered the young woman. “I think it would be good for both our families if we did have the dinner. Gamp and I have business interests that would be advantageous. I doubt if Harry will want to attend, but I will meet with your fiancé.”
She nodded. “I understand,” she repeated.
He allowed himself a small smile then. “Congratulations, Pansy. And I do hope that your marriage will be a happy one.” Draco left then. He couldn’t wait to get back to his own husband.