"I really do love you"
It actually built up in her throat for a couple of seconds, piling and constricting. Without her consent, some tears slipped out of her eyes and the sob tore out of her throat. She looked up and stared at Draco pleadingly.
He was the only one who she let near her when she cried. She held her arms out to him and like clockwork he fell into them, crushing her close before sinking to his knees in front of her.
“Shh, shh,” Draco hushed, using the tip of his sleeve to dab at her face. “Don’t cry, Pansy.”
“Why?”
He looked at her, and his attention was so solely dedicated to her that she almost didn’t feel the other 5 pairs of eyes that were trained on them since Pansy’s meltdown.
“What do you mean ‘why’? Your face will get puffy–.”
“Why did you stop talking to me?”
Draco shifted his weight on his knees, head tilted intently. “I haven’t.”
“You have,” Pansy said. “About things that matter. I hardly see you and the only time this week that we talked about something other than class is when you yelled at me for spilling ink on your bag.”
“It was a new bag.”
“That’s not the point.”
“I know.”
He swallowed, “I love you.”
Pansy let out a watery laugh, “I know that. I love you too.”
“I love you but I can’t marry you.”
Pansy felt herself wilt, “But why? We agreed that this would be the best way. Best friends bound for life. Together forever.”
Draco brushed a stray tear off her cheek, “I remember. And if things hadn’t changed I would have married you. We’d be so good together.”
“We really would be,” Pansy held his hand to her face. “I’d make you coffee for breakfast and you’d do the dishes at night. I’d take care of the finances and you of the household because you can sweet talk the paintings and I have the bank wrapped around my pinky finger.”
“I know, I know.”
“Then why ? What has changed? Why won’t you talk to me anymore? Even if you won’t marry me, it– it doesn’t mean I want to lose you. I love you.”
“I love you too, it’s because of that I'm not marrying you. You deserve an actual shot at this love thing, you can do so much better than a marriage of convenience.”
She nuzzled her cheek into his soft hand, “I don’t understand.”
“You deserve to marry someone you love, Pans.”
She swats his hand, “I get that . I just don’t understand why you care now . Or why you have been avoiding me.”
He bent forward, forehead carefully finding her thigh, his nose pushed to her knee. She watched the fine silky strands of platinum glint, appreciating the few strands that broke free from his gel and lay flat on her leg. He seemed to be trying to monitor his breathing, gathering his wits.
Unable to resist, she runs her fingers lightly over his hair. Missing the summer mornings where they could meet at the garden and he’d let her braid weeds into his hair. With each breath, gel-filled and familiar, it lingered in her lungs and reminded her of autumn promises and midnight oaths.
She was almost ready when he straightened back up and looked up at her with serious grave eyes, “Since I found someone to love, someone who makes me feel powerful and gold. And Pansy, I think you are the most precious but I could never make you feel that way.”
Pansy took his hand into hers, covering it and keeping it close to her. “You’re in love?”
“Yes,” he says simply. “He makes me feel as if I single-handedly hung the moon and the stars, and he makes me feel like I could. For him, I would.”
“That’s wonderful,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I couldn’t bear it, I felt like I had to hide it. Like everything would change, and I knew. If I let even the slightest bit slip you would know immediately, and I wasn’t ready for that. To be honest, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready for that.”
“Ready for what?”
“To admit that I loved someone. A man. That I wanted someone more than I thought I could ever want anything, it felt like the most humiliating thing. I felt as if I might as well strip naked and bare my soul.”
“So what changed?” Pansy absently played with her fingers. “Why tell me now?”
“I’ve hurt you,” he tells her. “And I’ve hurt a great deal of others too.”
This is when he gave Pansy his hands, she pulled him up and in turn, he helped her from the desk. Still holding hands they turn to the others, Vincent and Greg’s patient expression, Blaise’s blank one, Granger and Weasley’s face. As if they were holding their breath.
Pansy watched, smiling softly when Draco looked right at Potter and said, “I really do love you.”
She tried not to say anything when Potter said, “You are under the influence of a love potion” but she couldn’t help it.
“It’s actually a potion that enhances any romantic feelings that are already there.”
“Liking me and loving me are two very different things,” Potter says gently. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to make it up to me or anything. I don’t hold you accountable for what you did under the influence.”
Draco took his hands from Pansy and strode over to Potter, “I love you, Harry. And if you don’t believe me I’ll tell you later tonight. During dinner, in front of everyone because I want them to know how much I, Draco Malfoy, truly love you.”
Harry Potter blushed, it was a startling sight and then Pansy understood what Draco meant. It must be so exhilarating to put that look on someone else’s face. To know that the same power they hold over you, you have over them. Or maybe, Pansy considered, as she saw Draco blush to the tips of his roots, it’s more of an exchange. A willing trade, or acceptance of that power. The heart was in someone else’s care.
Later that evening Granger would apologize for snapping and explain that Harry had kept them both in the loop– big surprise, the Golden Trio are excellent with communication– and they had thought Pansy knew too. They had assumed it was a cruel trick to mess with Harry.
Pansy would wave it off and apologize for breaking into tears. By the end of the conversation Pansy was making an effort to use their first name or a not-so-insulting nickname. By then it was dinner, and they made it there together just in time to see Draco Malfoy march up to Harry Potter and crash their mouths together.
And if the rumor had not worked its way through the school by then, or if it wasn’t believed, it was only solidified the next day in the form of a Howler from Lucius Malfoy.
Draco’s only response was to kiss his boyfriend.