Temptation
Pour Deux
by
Annie
Adrienne
Chapter
12
Another
Reason
“Pansy!
My, you look lovely tonight, as always. And- my, do you have another sister
I didn’t know about, or is that
you,
Mrs. Parkinson?” Draco bowed, flashing his most charming smile, and Mrs.
Parkinson, a plump, flighty-looking
blonde
woman with piercing hazel eyes, shrieked in delight.
“Oh,
Draco! You’ve grown so much! I remember when you were just a boy-” she
wiped an obviously forced tear
from
her left eye, careful not to smear her makeup. “Now I hear from Pansy you’ve
gotten a girlfriend?”
“Yes,
she ought to be down in a moment- a little tired from her trip. You understand,
of course- she doesn’t mean to
be
rude.”
“Don’t
be silly, dear, of course not!” Mrs. Parkinson assured him, turning to
her daughter. “Why don’t you go upstairs
and
see if she needs any help, Pansy?”
The
striking and, up until now, silent teenager gritted her teeth, but smiled
brightly at her mother.
“Of
course, mother! What a wonderful idea. We’ll be down in a moment, Draco.”
She
walked gracefully over to the stairs, though Draco could see and feel the
tension in her shoulders. He had
known-
and been nearly betrothed- to Pansy far too long. He suspected, if Mrs.
Parkinson had anything to say about
it,
‘Hermia’ would have been taken care of. But his father was, if one thing,
stubborn, and wouldn’t be bossed around
by
any woman, even such a powerful widow as Petra Parkinson.
Thank
God.
“Now
Draco, my dear,” Petra began, moving closer to him as soon as Pansy was
out of sight. He wrinkled his nose,
overcome
by the acrid scent of her perfume… it seemed like she was wearing gallons
of it. “This Hermia girl… can
she
be trusted?”
“Completely,
Mrs. Parkinson.” He replied, unable to keep the ice out of his tone. She
smiled, though it didn’t reach
her
eyes.
“Wonderful.
And what, if you don’t mind me asking, does she have that Pansy doesn’t?
You know your father would
be
most pleased if you two were to- come to some sort of agreement.” Some
woman’s voices would have been angry,
or
disappointed- but Petra Parkinson’s was not. She didn’t care about Pansy-
only about what a marriage of hers
could
bring the Parkinson family name. She was merely curious about this, it
seemed. He breathed.
“I
love her.” He said, the affirmation sliding easily off his tongue. “This
is not some- agreement- we’ve made. I love her
with
all of my soul.”
He
wasn’t sure if he was lying.
*****
Hermione
yawned, sitting up in the strange bed and blinking rapidly, her eyes quickly
adjusting to the rays of pink
sunset
streaming through her window. Muttering, she rolled out of bed, pulling
the silver curtains shut over the window.
She
sat down on the bed, allowing the afternoon’s strange realization to flood
back into her head. But what did it
mean?
She was not a prisoner- the door was open, after all. But why put
her in this room? Was it possible that
Narcissa
didn’t know? Even Lucius, or Draco? But this was their house- wouldn’t
they know everything about it?
Her
heart sank, as she remembered that Draco had voiced his concerns about
the mysteries of Malfoy Manor many
times
to her over the course of the last week. Now, she felt like she’d known
him forever- like she knew him better
than
he knew himself. Which wasn’t difficult. Draco hadn’t a clue about his
family history, beyond the famous bloody
war
generals his father had lectured him about. He hadn’t even known how long
the manor had been in the family-
she’d
always just assumed that the Malfoys had always lived in this house. But
what if they hadn’t built it? What if the
house
held secrets that no Malfoy had ever understood?
She
couldn’t trust Narcissa with her concerns… and what good would it do? Narcissa’s
head, if well meaning, was
far
away and gone in the clouds, probably a reason that Lucius had seen fit
to marry her. She wouldn’t meddle in the
affairs
of her husband- she had plenty of airs of her own to put on, outfits to
choose and makeup to charm, after all.
She
needed to speak with Draco- or someone, anyone she could come to trust,
that wasn’t a Malfoy. Someone that
could
speak to her… objectively.
Her
musings were interrupted by a loud, quick rapping at the door. She sprung
to her feet, smoothing out the wrinkles
in
her dress. It must be Draco- or Narcissa. Shouldn’t the party be starting
sometime soon? She turned the silver lock
and
opened the door, almost instinctively setting her face in a scowl, but
managing to maintain her usual pleasantly
intelligent
smirk.
“Hello.”
The familiar blonde girl at the door said, sounding quite bored. “I’m Pansy
Parkinson. You must be Hermia
LeFay.”
*****
“So
there’s no suitable boys at Durmstrang, then? What about that Quidditch
player, Viktor Krum? Granted, he’s
rather
scruffy, but I’m sure a girl with proper breeding like you could fix him
up soon enough-” Pansy chattered on
affably,
as she’d been doing for the past ten minutes. She’d seemed so relieved
for someone to talk to that Hermione
couldn’t
stand interrupting her.
“Viktor’s
sweet, but he seemed quite taken with some half-blood girl from Hogwarts.
Helen, or something…?”
Hermione
replied cautiously, careful to keep her expression casual. It was so strange
to talk about herself in the third
person-
and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what Pansy was going to say about
her.
“Oh,
Hermione Granger.” Pansy affirmed, heaving a sigh and pulling the corset
she’d forced upon Hermione tighter.
The
younger girl gasped, but tried very hard to keep a straight face. Hermia
LeFay would be quite used to wearing
corsets-
Snape had even made her pack a few. “She’s got potential, I suppose, if
it weren’t for those buck teeth and
freckles-
and she is smart, or book smart at least… but all those bloody Gryffindors
are the same. Too high and
mighty
with their morals and their bravery to walk down in the muck among us normal
people. Dolts haven’t the
slightest
ideas the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs hate them as much as we do- and who
wouldn’t? Carrying themselves
around
like kings- and oh, of course, precious little Harry Potter. Granger
follows him around, you know- figures.
And
that Weasley- oh, what’s his name, Rob or something. Only logical the special
ones would stick together.”
“What’s
so special about this Weasley?” Hermione asked, feeling a rush of protectiveness
for her friend. Pansy shook
her
head.
“You’re
lucky you’ve never met a Weasley, Hermia- they’re just awful! A pureblood
wizarding family- one of the
most
pure- consorting with mudbloods, and studying them, no less! The father,
Arthur, is a muggle maniac. They’re
dirt
poor, too, most likely because of his little obsession.”
“That’s
unfair!” shouted Hermione, her eyes widening once she’d realized what she’d
said. So far, only to blow her
chance
now-
“I
know!” Pansy said, nodding her head furiously. “Poor little Jenny, the
only daughter, couldn’t even afford dress
robes
for the Yule Ball. A pureblood family! It’s disgusting, really. You’re
lucky you live among proper people.”
Giving
one last strong tug on the corset (perhaps a little too strongly), Pansy
fell back onto the bed, and Hermione
couldn’t
help but laugh. Much to her dismay, Pansy laughed too, a high, sweet giggle.
“Oh,
dear- I got a little carried away, I suppose. It’s not like you need a
corset Hermia, like I do- my mum’s always
telling
me to lose weight.”
“You’re
not fat, Pansy.” Hermione assured her, pulling a royal blue silk halter
dress on over her head. She’d planned
on
wearing the most conservative dress in Narcissa’s closet- a silvery gray
one, in the back- but all thoughts of looking
‘nice’
had gone out the window once she’d seen what Pansy was wearing.
Outfits
spoke of power, Pansy had told her, and she needed to look secure enough
to stand next to Draco, which
took
a bit of doing. Surprisingly enough, Pansy didn’t seem bitter at all about
‘Hermia’ dating the Malfoy heir- quite
the
contrary, in fact. She seemed almost relieved, assuring her ‘I’m not sure
what you see in him, Hermia, but I
suppose
it’s much the same thing I did. And if you see what I see, dear, then you
two should work out. I’ve always
had
a bit of a crush on Alec Zambini, anyhow.’
Pansy
stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in her wine-colored dress, and running
a hand through her hair. She sighed,
stepping
in front of the jewel-encrusted mirror.
“I’ve
never been good at volumizing charms- bane of my mother’s existence. She
refuses to do them for me… says
I
should suffer through being ugly if I’m too stupid to work out a simple
cosmetic charm.” She sighed, frowning at
herself
in the mirror. Hermione couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for the girl-
imagine what it must feel like to be
told
you were ugly all your life, even looking like her?
She
stepped behind Pansy in the mirror, drawing her wand and whispering a few
words under her breath. The older
girl’s
blonde tresses glowed for a moment, and then faded, not stringy and stiff
for the first time Hermione could
remember.
Pansy grinned.
“Oh,
you’re a love, aren’t you! It’ll be wonderful having you around.” Shocking
Hermione nearly out of her skin,
Pansy
turned around and hugged her, laughing. She couldn’t help but smile too.
“Now
let’s get out of here, shall we? We’ve got a party to go to!”
Be
a good reader and review! It’d be awesome if I could reach 100 before chapter
13!
A/N:
Just to clarify a tiny bit (though it’s mentioned in the fic), Hermione
isn’t being held prisoner in any way. She’s
just
realized that the room she’s been put in was once a prison, most likely
for a woman.
Again,
sorry this took forever to get out, just life is one thing after another,
plus now my computer is acting up. Grr!
EvilGeniusSmurf:
Thanks for the suggestions- but, to counter-point, as much as Death Eaters
are tight-knight, they’re
not
exactly the friendly types, are they? Certainly not Snape, who I can’t
imagine hob-knobbing at dinner parties.
Never
mind any of the other Death Eaters worrying about some distant niece
of his. Also, Lucius and Narcissa aren’t
suspicious-
yet- so they’d have no reason to ask after Hermia. Plus, I’ve always imagined
Durmstrang as larger than
Hogwarts-
they can’t know of every student there. I see your point, but even your
suggestion of her background
could
be ripped apart. Thanks for the review, though!
Thanks
everyone else who reviewed!
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