Ok, but you're lying
When Draco was eight, he would have done anything to make his father proud. There is something to be said about idolising your parents, even though they’re not perfect. For most, your parents are the first role models you have. Draco didn’t understand until later that parents aren’t always right and that actually, they don't always have your best interests at heart.
Some people shouldn’t have children Draco thought, I wonder if I’d be a good father…
That was another point of contention in the Malfoy Household, Draco’s romantic status. He was expected to marry well. Even though the event of the marriage itself was a long way off, he was expected to be actively looking. For a long time it seemed as if his father was pushing him to ‘court’ Pansy. Pansy was nice, despite what a lot of the students in their year thought, she was just fiercely protective of Draco. She had made him realise things about himself he didn’t even realise were there.
“Dray, do you really like me?”
Draco and Pansy had been sitting in the Common Room for the last hour or so in comfortable silence. Pansy was one of the only people Draco felt comfortable around. If his Father decided Pansy was to be his wife, he wouldn't be too opposed. He would count himself lucky to at least have a wife he liked, someone who cared about him.
Draco looked up from his Potions essay, eyebrow raised, “Pardon, Pan?”
Pansy rolled her eyes good-naturedly, “I wish you’d listen to me more.”
To make a marriage work, Draco you must make sure you’re listening to your wife, his Father had said to him once. His Mother had looked up at Lucius with a look that seven year old Draco could not understand, before walking away. Or at least, he continued, you must appear to.
Draco abandoned his essay in favour of looking her in the eye, “I do listen!”
She laughed, a pleasant tickling sound he’d began to associate with comfort. It sounded a little like his Mother’s.
“Don’t apologise, I’m joking.” She took his right hand, not holding his quill, “Your father gets really angry when you don’t pay attention doesn’t he?” She softened a little at this observation.
Draco blinked, “Doesn’t everyone’s?”
Pansy fixed a look on him that made him feel like there was something he didn’t know, that he was supposed to know. If there was one thing Draco hated, it was being on the receiving end of pity. Clearly his best friend/girlfriend could see him becoming irked because she sped through her next words.
“I mean, do you fancy me Draco.” she blurted.
Draco suddenly felt like his mind had been struck by lightning, like the ‘static’ they learned about in Muggle Studies, or like a blank canvas. He rallied quickly.
“Of course I do.” He squeezed the hand she was holding.
Pansy narrowed her eyes, not dangerously so, just…assessing him. “Ok but you’re lying.”
Draco made to protest.
“Draco I know what you’re like when you fancy someone…and you don’t fancy me.”
That caught Draco’s attention. “I’m sorry…what?” He said dumbly.
She laughed, again. He wished she’d stop doing that.
“I know what you’re like when you fancy someone.”
“Yes, don’t just repeat yourself, tell me what you mean. What do you mean, you know what I’m like when I fancy someone?”
Pansy blinked, once and looked at him hard, blinked again and then rolled her eyes.
“Potter.” She said, like it was obvious.
“What does Potter have to do with this?”
“Oh my god Draco.” He continued to stare at her, “Potter, Draco…I know you fancy Potter.”
Draco felt like his whole body had gone numb, before words were exploding out of his mouth.
“What kind of sick joke are you trying to pull here, Pansy?” He tried to pull his hand away, but she kept it firmly within her grip.
“Draco. It’s me. You don’t have to pretend with me…about anything. It’s alright.”
“But - I…don’t.”
Suddenly Pansy paled a little.
“Oh, Merlin. Draco…you don’t know that you fancy him?!”
“I don’t!”
“Oh, Draco. Yes you do.”
“I do not fancy Harry Potter.”
“Draco.”
Draco wrenched his hand away from Pansy and stood up abruptly. Pansy went to stand but stopped herself.
“Draco it’s alright.”
How did she always know what to say? How did she always know what was bothering him.
“You know,” He cut off what he suspected might become a pity rant about his Father’s expectations of him (that was too much to deal with on top of what was currently happening), “My Father told me to befriend Potter. That he’d be a valuable asset to my life.”
“Like he’s an expensive necklace.” Pansy muttered.
Draco chose to ignore her, though he found himself appreciating her observation.
“He said, because of who he is, his ‘blood traitor status’ could be overlooked, that he was a rare exception.”
Pansy curled a lip but chose to keep her mouth shut this time.
“Father told me I should make it my utmost priority to befriend him, that people may try and besmirch whatever good blood he had left in him considering his father was pureblood and his mother…wasn’t. That I shouldn’t let people do that to him. That I had to. I had to get him into my life.…and my mother told me to be myself. That he’d like me if I was nice. That he’d like me for me if I let him see it.” Draco sighed. “I took my Father’s advice instead of my Mother’s…and it was one of the worst decisions of my life.”
“Draco…” Pansy stood and tried to look him in the eye. He evaded her gaze.
“I’m sure you remember the spectacle I made on the steps the first day we arrived here.”
Pansy had the gall to giggle, but she did try to suppress it at least.
“Yes, Dray, I do remember you absolutely embarrassing yourself in front of your crush and having him put you in your place.”
Draco flushed, “I don’t have a cru- anyway. I just…”
“You just?”
“What would have happened if I hadn’t done that? If I’d taken my Mother’s advice instead?”
“Oh Draco. You know…it might not be too late…Potter’s nice…he’s a forgiving person…maybe if you-”
But Draco didn’t get to hear what he might be able to do because Vincent, Gregory and Blaise chose that moment to bluster into the room. Vince and Greg laughing loudly, Blaise looked mildly haunted.
We’ll finish this later, Pansy said with her eyes. “Where have you boys been?” She said out loud.
“Weasley’s in the Hospital Wing.” Vince sniggered.
“What for?” Pansy asked.
The boys all looked at each other, “Well,” Greg started, “it was a prank meant for Potter but-”
Pansy tried to catch Draco’s eye, but he wouldn’t let her.
“What did you do?” Pansy asked, clearly hoping to hurry the explanation along.
“Long story short,” Blaise took over, “Weasley’s hands are now twice the size of his head…and they’re blue.”
Vince and Greg giggle. Blaise twisted his mouth in what looked like an attempted smile. Pansy rolled her eyes, “Is that all? Bit tame for you boys isn’t it?”
“No no, that’s not it. He panicked and started running because he dropped his wand. He overbalanced because of his huge hands and-” Blaise paused while Vince and Greg started laughing again, “he fell down the steps that lead to the Great Hall and cracked his head open.”
Draco froze.
“The best part,” Greg took over, “was Granger’s reaction. She ran down the stairs, screaming.”
“She was running so fast that she almost fell too.” Vince added. Both of them started screaming in high pitched voices, trying to see who could impersonate Hermione Granger’s terror the best.
“That doesn’t sound much like a prank to me.” Draco said, his voice low, with a dangerous edge to it. The two boys stopped laughing and looked a little shocked.
“What- but…we rushed to tell you, Draco. We thought you’d find it hilarious?! She was all-” Vince started screaming again, while Greg decided to take up the role of the limp body of Ronald Weasley, doing such a good job of looking lifeless that Draco was suddenly somewhere else.
The screams of the Muggleborn women came back to him. Did her family know?Would they react like Hermione Granger reacted to her good friend lying at the bottom of the stairs with his head cracked open? White flashed in front of his vision, his breathing was speeding up. He closed his eyes. His palms were damp. No please! Please I have a family! I have children PLEASE?
“That’s not a prank. That’s an attack.” Pansy was saying, “And you,” she turned to Blaise, “what did you do?”
“Nothing.” Blaise said, but it wasn’t defensive. It was ashamed. “I didn’t think it would go that far.”
“Hang on!” Vince said loudly, “Since when do we care about Weasel and the Mudblood?!”
Draco winced hard.
“Draco what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“We thought you’d be pleased.”
“We thought it would be funny.”
“I don’t think Granger thought it was funny.” Blaise muttered bitterly.
Vince and Greg turned sharply to Blaise as if they were one being.
“What’s your issue?”
“Yeah?!”
“If you think pranks include attacking people you might as well be a Death Eater.” Blaise spat the title like he realised the juice he’d almost swallowed was laced with poison. Draco was going hot and cold, I have a job. Just for you. The inside of his left arm began to itch, as if he’d brushed against some form of nettle. It was so hot, why was it so hot in here?
“I need to…go for a walk.” Draco said, quietly, his heart beating irregularly. The Mudblood. M-U-D-B-L-O-O-D-S Draco, they’re mudbloods. They’re tainted.
Greg gave him such a scandalised look that Draco found himself rallying momentarily. He turned quickly to him and Vince and managed to plaster on some of his old ‘charm’.
“You know,” Draco drawled, slipping back into the voice like an old coat, “go to the Hospital Wing, see how big Weasley’s hands are.” The two 'pranksters' gave him grins. Pansy narrowed her eyes dangerously in a way that reminded him of Granger...that made him feel distinctly sick. He swept out of the Common Room.
“Draco!”
Pansy was coming after him. He tried to outrun her, he really did, but he found he couldn’t breathe, let alone run.
“-co! Draco!”
His vision was spotting.
“There we are, that’s it. Deep breaths.”
He was sitting on the floor. How did he get there? He had a cup of water clutched tightly in his shaking hands and Pansy was kneeling in front of him, her brown eyes glinting with a hint of hazel in the torchlight of the corridor.
“Draco? Can you speak?”
His eyes were wide and felt dry even though he could feel he’d been crying. Weak. You’re weak Draco.
“I’m so sorry.” He found himself saying, the words spilling out before he could stop them.
Pansy placed a cool, gentle. well manicured hand on his face, “Whatever for, Dray?”
“Malfoy Men don’t cry.” He was disgusted with himself. His Father would be so disappointed.
“Draco you’re under a lot of stress.”
He laughed humourlessly. Stress. That was one word for it.
“You mean if I don’t kill Dumblefore, the Dark Lord is going to kill me. Is that the stress you’re referring to?” He wheezed out, his breathing still off kilter.
Pansy stroked his cheek with her thumb.
“We’ll get you out of this, Draco. I promise.”
“There is no getting me out of this Pansy. He chose me. He chose me personally. In front of a whole room full of Death Eaters including my parents and my Aunt Bella. He took my Father’s wand to ensure I do so….my Father had never been so proud of me. And then…now my Father can’t even look at me, killing Dumbledore is my one chance to have my Father love me again. It’s my one chance to have my family back in favour with the Dark Lord, to keep them safe. If I do this, maybe I’ll be allowed home.”
Pansy looked devastated at that last statement, “But you don’t want to do this, Draco. It will destroy you.”
“Already halfway there.” He whispered, his chest tightening again, “I have to. I have to do this.”
Visions of that terrible night swirled in front of his eyes. The night when his entire world was stretched and then flipped inside out and he had been taken along with it, helpless and bleeding.
“I think I should take you to the Hospital Wing.” She said, almost flatly. He went to protest, but she lifted the cup to his lips, so he had to drink or risk spilling it all down his front, “You just had a major panic attack Draco, you blacked out for a few minutes. I need to make sure you’re alright.”
Draco doesn’t remember getting to the Hospital Wing, only that he ended up there, Madam Pomfrey looking him over, with Pansy hovering just behind her elbow. He’d had a panic attack? Mental weaknesses were unacceptable, his Father had told him so. Malfoy men had strong stomachs and strong minds. His Father had watched the Muggleborn woman being tortured without blinking an eye, in fact he looked mildly gleeful. Why wasn’t Draco like that? Was there something wrong with him. He could hear Pansy talking to Madam Pomfrey but it sounded like they were on land and he was underwater.
“YOU!”
Draco’s head snapped up. Hermione Granger had spotted him from the other end of the Hospital Wing. He could see red hair sticking out of white bandages with specks of blood dotting over them. The curly haired girl was almost crimson in the face as she stomped over to the three of them.
“Miss Granger, please keep your voice down, I have patients.” Madam Pomfrey spoke calmly but sharply.
Granger seemed to remember where she was and looked a little reproachful before turning her sharp brown eyes to the two Slytherins.
“I bet you were behind what happened to Ron.” She accused. “Too much of a coward to show up yourself though. Sending your little cronies to do it for you! Coward!” That was definitely directed solely at Draco.
Pansy seethed. “It had nothing to do with Draco. He wasn’t even there.”
“You honestly expect me to believe that just because he wasn’t physically there that he had nothing to do with it?”
“I’m sorry Weasley got hurt.”
There was deadly silence.
Granger looked like she’d swallowed a large rock and couldn’t figure out if she was choking or not. She blinked, once, then twice. Then she seemed to get angrier.
“You don’t mean that and that’s just-“ She floundered, like she couldn’t think of a strong enough word.
“I do.”
Granger gritted her teeth and screwed up her face. “You’re so cruel.” Tears sprung to her eyes, she always had been very open with her emotions. The similarities between her and the Muggleborn were stark and Draco felt like he was choking again. It could have been her. Someone in his school. Someone he knew.
Granger’s face relaxed from its screwed up fury as Draco felt his breath and heart rate speeding up again.
“Mr Malfoy, please try to remain calm.”
‘What’s wrong with-?”
Draco’s vision was spotty again. “I am sorry. I am.”
“Miss Granger, your presence is upsetting him, I think you should go.”
“She doesn’t believe me.”
“She doesn’t know you Draco she-“
“Mr Malfoy take some deep breaths.”
“I’m not a monster am I?”
“He’s so pale, is he dying?” It certainly felt like he was.
Everyone’s voices blended into each other. He couldn’t tell who was who. He just wanted it all to slow down, to stop. Why wasn’t it stopping?
“Right, I have no choice. Mr Malfoy open up, you need to drink this.”
“What’s tha-?”
Madam Pomfrey opened his jaw with a strong hand and poured something into his mouth that tasted like slightly bitter strawberries.
Very slowly he felt his heart slow down its frenzied pace. Every blink felt like it took a whole minute. His panic subsided into a dull sort of…nothing.
Now everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. He looked down at his hands. He looked up at the three women around him.
“Draco?”