To Play with Fire

Chapter 1

To Matter To Someone


Draco was pacing. And he hated to do that. It was useless, unproductive, not to mention pointless... Wait, weren't these the same things? He ran his fingers through his hair. A pointless waste of time! It was almost two in the morning and he had classes the next morning. He needed to calm down. He would. Draco drew in a deep breath.

“You are useless! Look at yourself...”

His father's words still rang in his head. It had been years but it still hurt. By now though, the really hurtful part was not that his father was disappointed in him but that it was the truth. He was useless. Wearing the carpet out, worrying, beating himself up, pacing in the Slytherin common room in the middle of the night, for Merlin's sake! Father was right of course, he should already have a solid, fully worked out plan in his mind. No doubt Nott would have figured it out by now. He was the smart one! Draco snorted. But the words echoed in his head and the mirth left his lips.

“Look at yourself...”

He had always known he fell short by his father's standards but it had never been said out loud like that before. “You are useless!” Yeah, he was. Draco knew that very well. Because it was not actually that he could not figure out how to do what the Dark Lord and his father wanted him to do. He had the theory and training, resources, just not the details. He could probably do it if he wanted to. If he really wanted to. Probably. Of course, it would take some time but he thought that he could do it. In a manner of speaking. If he were Nott. I can't do it, my god, I can't do it! I don't want to do it. And that was the whole truth. He was useless for this purpose because he simply did not want to do it.

The room started to swim before his eyes, so he decided to leave for bed.


* * *


Hermione couldn't sleep. Tossing between her sheets and daydreaming was all she could do because she was in love for the first time - utterly, devastatingly, deeply, madly and all that. And she was happy. She was deliriously happy because it was her first time and she did not know yet that loving in your teens could be a pure agony. Life would soon fix her ignorance but until then, she was happy. He was so handsome, so smart, elegant and by all standards very, very rich. Not that Hermione valued his wealth much but even she had to admit that it couldn't hurt either.

She sighed. Hermione would see him in the morning in the Great Hall and then in Potions and in Magical Creatures and... Well it would be only lunch and dinner after that. Maybe in the library? No, he didn't spend his time among books much, not that he was illiterate, mind you, no! He had to be smart because he got high marks in most of the subjects and as far as she knew he achieved them by sheer brilliance. You must be brilliant if you are not seen studying much and get by without your friends' help. Well, she even suspected that he actually did some homework for his less gifted peers. Hermione sighed for the thousandth time. It was almost morning and she couldn't wait.


* * *


Every teen has his or her own demons to fight, he knew. At times he even thought that Potter was quite lucky to know exactly what his were. Or Dumbledore or The Dark Lord, or even that bloody perfect Malfoy! They all knew where they stood and what was expected of them. They knew what side they were on even if they chose not to fight. Not that Potter could there was clearly too much of a hero in him... He snorted.

That was precisely what he himself had been inclined to do until recently; he was ready to flee the country at the first violent conflict between the sides. Until her. She was definitely taking a side and he did not want to watch from the sidelines if she was in the middle of it. She was his light, his dream, his reality and he was going to make sure she knew it too before long because people were starting to talk already. Everybody expected her to end up with that... that idiot... that... He took a deep breath to calm down but it didn't help, so he silently ranted on.

Couldn't people see that such a beautiful and gentle a girl could never be happy with that git as a boyfriend? Sure, he was a pureblood, good looking, played Quidditch and was otherwise quite popular but she was... stunning! Breathtaking and... OK, breathe, breathe... Blaise took a look in the mirror and started for the Great Hall; he would see her there. Even if she were sitting next to him during the meal, in Potions she would not. He had made sure of it. He smiled.


* * *


Harry and Ron made their way to the common room to find Hermione already at the table scribbling away on a long parchment, the tip of her tongue peeking from between her delectable lips. She looked up at them and smiled. She looked absolutely lovely but as expected, neither boy saw that.

“Hey, 'Mione, what are you doing up so early again?” Ron's voice was still thick with sleep and Hermione's heart melted; Ron was just too cute in the morning. She kept on smiling.

“Morning, 'Mione.” Harry frowned. “Why are you smiling like that?”

Her smile grew even wider. “Why wouldn't I? Is it against the rules to be happy in such a fine morning?” She looked from one boy to the other in mischief. “Or is the concept of smiling just too much for your brains?”

Harry snorted and Ron simply grunted. The redhead was clearly not a morning person.

“You going to breakfast?” Ron asked, already moving towards the exit.

Shortly they were all seated at the Gryffindor table eating and going through the morning papers. Hermione thought that Ron might actually have left his brains on the pillow; the way he was wolfing away the porridge could be achieved by a blast-ended skrewt. It was really embarrassing for a creature of intelligence, Hermione thought. She had already scanned the room upon entering and knew that he was not in yet but she made sure to sit facing the Slytherin table. Yes, Slytherin. The man of her dreams was indeed in the house of green, silver and ambition.


* * *


Draco was exhausted. He hadn't slept in days, thinking how to get out of his predicament. He had been eating poorly and hadn't been paying attention in class. Today was just another autumn morning of his sixth year in Hogwarts and he was going through his morning rituals of dressing and grooming. Draco sighed. Something that should be considered a thing of pride was a burden to him. He had been given a task from The Dark Lord and what a task it was! It was sheer madness and only a madman could have given it to him.

It was almost impossible simply because of who he was. A Malfoy. A Death Eater. He was a known Death Eater, for Circe's sake! If he'd be Parkinson or Zabini no one could be sure but as a Malfoy, taking the mark was given. He didn't want to become a Death Eater but he had always known that when he became of age he would finally run out of excuses. It was like being a boy where you had no choice but never really questioned it, because it was the way things were – he was a boy, he was a pureblood, he was a Malfoy, he was a Death Eater. Just like that. It was what he was raised to be.

Draco finally made it to the breakfast table, thinking that only a crazy person would willingly follow a madman. Voldemort was mad and his father was crazy. And what does it say about you then? To be following in their footsteps? He sat and poured a cup of coffee for himself. Pansy was already there, eating, but as she saw her life-time mate nearing she made a show of greeting him. She kissed him briefly and fussed over him as only a girlfriend or a mother (not Mrs Malfoy though) would.

Draco was irritated. “Stop crowding me, Pans!” She started to pout, slightly chastised. When given some space Draco tried to look as inconspicuously as he could towards the Gryffindor table. He had been doing that for the last couple of days constantly. Draco thought that he at least had to try, didn't he? The Golden Trio was already there, The-Hero-of-the-Universe was talking to his team mates, probably about the last Quidditch match, the redhead was contributing with a full mouth and the frizz-hair was...

God, not again! Could she be more obvious? The Gryffindor's book-with-limbs was pretending to read The Prophet. Again. Draco could not understand how dense all her friends were. Her blatant staring over to the Slytherin table at her supposed knight in shining armour was as obvious as it was ridiculous! And that the said knight was...Ugh...

“Draco, darling, are you alright? You look sick! Shall I fetch Madam Pomfrey?” Pansy was all over him again.

“No! I'm fine, leave me alone, for Merlin's sake! Go bug somebody else!” he huffed and rose to leave the table. He would not be eating in the Great Hall any more! He felt like he was surrounded by imbeciles.

Pansy was hurt. She was really hurt this time. She followed his departure with a cold fury in her eyes and could not decide if she felt more hurt or angry. He was treating her like dirt and she deserved better. She deserved so much better! She was the Slytherin Princess, for God sake! Pansy started eating again to mask her feelings.

When she raised her eyes again Blaise was looking at her, his eyes full of concern.
“Hey Pans, you alright?” He smiled slightly. “Want me to kick his ass?”

She smiled now, Blaise was so cute. “No, I think I should do it myself. But thanks for offering.” An idea had started forming in her mind. Maybe she would not need to kick Draco's ass, maybe she even could have him begging for her forgiveness the next meal.


* * *


Three days passed and Draco had yet to form an elaborate plan. He was sitting at the breakfast table for the first time in days, Slytherin folk were gossiping, teachers' table was full, good old merry Gryffindor Trio was... well, merry (except Hermione because she had just entered the angst stage of her one-sided love affair) and Pansy was...

Wait a minute, why isn't the wench fussing all over me? He had not seen Pansy outside classes since the fallout the other day. She had been ignoring him and it had been perfectly fine with him so he hadn't really noticed before. The extra bonus was that she even left the common room when he was in it. A Pansy-free free world, that was the life! Is she really still mad at me? Good.

Pansy Parkinson was just another duty to Draco. A duty he detested with all his soul. He knew he had to marry her sometime. It was decided so he never particularly worried about it. His parents had been betrothed the same way and they were just fine. Yeah, but neither of them is a frilly fashion-maniac with half a brain. It didn't matter to him who he married since he would never get the girl he wanted anyway. Not that he wanted any in particular but still... He would marry the airhead Pansy Parkinson and he would have the freedom to get any mistresses from the whole wide world. Pansy would give him pureblood babies and maybe they could be fairly content, if she would get her jollies dealt with discreetly enough elsewhere.

He glanced around the Great Hall and froze in shock. Pansy was sitting next to another wizard, a very male wizard, a very male wizard who wasn't Draco and she was practically devouring him with her attention. Her limbs were around Blaise, who looked like he was in heaven.

Draco gripped his fork with one hand and the bench he was sitting on with the other. His teeth were clenched and the jaw twitching as he was trying to conceal his natural reaction. It was a losing battle so he rose stiffly and practically stormed out of the room.

Pansy smiled victoriously. At this particular moment she felt the brightest witch in the whole world – she had succeeded on the first try. Pansy began prattling away about how much grovelling she would let Draco do before she would forgive him. Suddenly he released her and she noticed that he seemed angry. She was utterly bewildered, why on earth would he be angry? He rose and left the room.

The hall erupted with hushed voices discussing the drama of love found and lost. Hermione was one of the few who did not speak. She had been in hell since the moment she saw that Slytherin cow draping herself all over her man. Blaise Zabini, the wet dream of many single witches and Hermione's one and only had just crushed her heart. She almost didn't see his face turn from blissful to stony before he left the breakfast room. Almost.

He was so handsome, tall and lean, dark hair, a light bronze complexion, thick, long and dark eyelashes... So smart, witty, perfect... unattainable. Her past and present blurred together and her world shattered. He did not care about her and never would. Suddenly she felt plain, uninteresting and boring.


* * *


As soon as Draco Malfoy rushed through the door his self-control was lost. A huge grin split his face and he took off running to the owlery. A letter was composed and sent in quarter of an hour. He was not a man to let this kind of good fortune pass. Seize the day, they say. Draco took his broom and headed out.


September 18th
Hogwarts

Father,

I am writing to you about a matter of some importance as it concerns my future and in a way the future of the whole family.

You have, in the recent past brought to my attention the matter of my marriage to Ms Parkinson. Despite the fact that I have not shown any interest in claiming her publicly as mine, I have had every intention of doing my duty. Although without any confirmation to my suspicions, I believe I have shared my concerns regarding to Ms Parkinson's feelings towards the union sought by both of the families. At present, unfortunately, my fears have turned out to be not unfounded. It has come upon my knowledge (and consequently to the knowledge of the whole school) that Ms Parkinson has acquired feelings for another wizard quite worthy of her.

Under present circumstances I feel that the only noble course of action would be to release Ms Parkinson of the vows she personally has not even given to me. I strongly believe that I could never make her happy nor she me.

I hope Mr Parkinson will agree to settle the matter discreetly when you contact him.

Sincerely,
Draco


TBC