Fic: Manorexic, Harry/Draco, NC-17
Title: Manorexic
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,206
Summary: The Malfoys have always been very clear as to what they hold in high regard, such as wealth and blood purity, but as Pansy and Blaise found out in July of last year, there are some things that Lucius and Narcissa drilled into Draco's head from the time he was a little boy that left deeper impressions than even a Dark Mark.
Warnings: Eating Disorder
ADDITIONAL NOTE: The title of this fiction is an ambiguous word. No offense is meant by its use.
Thanks to
themaohour and
katelinmr for beta-ing. :)
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Manorexic
Chapter Nineteen
When Harry left the Gryffindor common room Monday night to see Pansy, he was especially frazzled. It felt like forever since he’d spoken to either Ron or Hermione, and just now, when he’d been in his dorm preparing to leave, Ron had walked in and completely ignored him. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but it was one of the few, as Seamus, Dean, or Neville was generally in there with them. When Ron had gone about getting his chess set and then gone back downstairs as if nothing had happened, Harry had had to close his eyes and take deep breaths to keep from destroying the room with his bare hands.
He was rather looking forward to seeing Pansy, though, and as he neared the library he found that his shoulders relaxed of their own accord. Draco wouldn’t be there - Pansy had made sure of that, at Harry’s request.
She wasn’t anywhere to be seen when Harry first walked into the cavernous room, so he took it upon himself to choose a table in a more secluded area near the Divination section. He pulled out his Defense book, prepared to have to wait a while if Pansy was late, but he hadn’t even opened to the right page when she sat down across from him.
“Hi,” she said a little breathlessly as she shoved her bag beneath the table. “Sorry I’m late. Draco wouldn’t leave me alone!”
Harry smiled. “What did you tell him?”
“Oh, just that I was coming here to study Transfiguration. I’m no good at it, and he wanted to help, but I said I thought I should try doing it on my own.” She scoffed. “I’m actually a little offended that he bought it. As if I would ever want to do such a thing.”
Harry laughed, an honest-to-God, mirthful laugh, and when it died away he was still smiling.
“And what’s Draco doing? Sulking?”
She smirked. “Either that or he’s shut himself away in his dorm and is drawing.”
“Wait . . . what?” Harry leaned forward in his chair, eyebrows drawn, and cocked his head. “Drawing?”
“Don’t tell him I said anything,” Pansy whispered. Her cheeks held a bit of color. “He hates that even I know. If I hadn’t found his drawings by accident I still wouldn’t, in fact. I don’t know why he hides it, though. He’s brilliant.”
Harry felt dazed. Malfoy drew . . . and was good at it? Even brilliant, if what Pansy said was true. He was intrigued.
“What kind of stuff does he draw?”
She shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. “Not really . . . not, like, normal stuff. It’s all a bit dark. Beautiful, but very scary, some of it. And he uses animals a lot. One of the first ones I found was so strange . . . I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. It was one of those Muggle Ferris wheels, you know?” Harry nodded slowly. “It didn’t have a platform or anything, just the wheel itself, and there was a big zebra sitting at the top, its knees pulled up like it didn’t fit in the cart, like it was human. And it looked depressed, and it was holding another animal’s head out over the side. The rest of the body was in the cart below. Like the zebra had grabbed its head as it was going by and didn’t let go.”
Harry swallowed and felt goose bumps raise all over his body.
“That’s . . . odd,” he said weakly. Pansy nodded.
“It was beautifully done, all in black and white, but I think that’s why it was so frightening. Because it was so good. I’ve only seen a handful of others, all dark, but they didn’t stick with me like that one.”
The two sat in silence for a few moments, Pansy probably remembering the picture while Harry tried to imagine what that could have looked like. Trying to image Draco drawing that.
Finally, Pansy broke the silence. “Anyway, why did you want to see me?”
Harry blinked rapidly, almost as though this would erase the image from his head, and looked at her.
“No reason in particular. Talk about Draco, I suppose. Other than that, I guess I’m just getting sick of Neville and Anthony.”
Pansy raised an eyebrow. “Getting sick of your boyfriend?” Harry blushed. “That’s not very noble, is it?”
Harry crossed his arms petulantly. “I’m not quite as noble as everyone likes to pretend.”
Pansy laughed. “Of course you are. You’re the only one who gave Draco a chance and decided to help.”
“Yeah, because I was curious.”
She eyed him for a moment suspiciously. “And is that all it is still? Curiosity?”
Harry colored and looked down. He began fiddling with a loose thread on the binding of his Defense book.
“I . . . no, of course not.” He was startled when Pansy reached across the table and laid her hand over his.
“You both act like it’s some horrible crime to have feelings for one another. I mean, I know you have a boyfriend, so that complicates things a bit, but that’s not the only reason you’re so weird about it, is it?” Harry shook his head, finding that there would be no point in lying about it.
“It’s just strange, is all,” he said quietly. Pansy nodded and took her hand back. “I never in a million years would have guessed this would happen. Could happen, for that matter.”
“You know,” she laughed, “it’s funny, because I think it’s pretty predictable.”
Harry stared at her. “What?”
“Harry, I used to be jealous of you.”
“Sorry?”
“Sure. Back before Draco had ever come out to me, before I realized he wasn’t suitable to be my boyfriend - for many reasons - I was always a little envious of you because you took up so much of his time and attention.”
Harry leaned back in his chair with a huff, thinking over the information he’d just been given. He supposed it was true, and not only for Draco. They had always been a bit obsessed with each other. And he wasn’t even going to get started on sixth year. . .
“Harry?”
Harry and Pansy whipped around to find Draco walking toward them cautiously, his eyebrows drawn, looking extremely confused.
“Draco!” Pansy shouted, fumbling with her Transfiguration book to get it open. “Harry was just . . . he was helping me study!”
Draco stopped at the edge of the table and looked at the two of them like they’d grown extra heads.
“Have I missed something?” he said eventually. Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing, while Pansy sat there looked immensely exasperated.
“I sat down with her,” Harry explained. Pansy eyed him. “She was studying and I decided to come talk to her - may as well, right? She’s your friend.”
“Oh.”
Pansy sighed and rolled her eyes, finally having gotten over the initial shock of Draco walking in on them.
“Why did you come down here? Did you need something?”
Draco was silent for a few moments, looking back and forth between Pansy and Harry, and then said, “I just wanted to talk to you. I had a question.”
“What’s up?”
He looked to Harry nervously, which caused Harry to feel very suspicious indeed, and then back to Pansy. He swallowed.
“Do you mind going back to our dorm . . . ?”
“Aw, come on,” Harry teased, tugging Draco down into a seat by his sleeve. Draco blushed furiously. “Secrets are no fun.”
“It’s not a secret,” Draco grumbled.
Harry laughed. “Then why can’t I be here?”
“Harry, please? I need to talk to Pansy.”
Harry sighed and nearly leaned in to kiss Draco, thought better of it, and instead squeezed his hand under the table. Draco smiled and squeezed back before standing up and beckoning for Pansy to do the same. She gathered up her books in her bag and sent a discreet, apologetic glance Harry’s way.
“See you,” she said.
“Well, I’ll walk out with you,” he said, standing up himself. “I couldn’t find the book I was looking for.”
The three of them left the library together, but before they parted ways Pansy said, “Oh, Potter! You’re good at Defense, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I’m alright.”
She rolled her eyes and he laughed. “Me and Draco are studying tomorrow evening, would you mind helping me out? I’m having trouble with the Fiendfyre essay.”
Harry looked quickly at Draco, who caught his eye and then looked away again.
“Sure,” he said, putting on a smile. “I’ll meet you in the library after dinner.”
* * *
Pansy sat down on Blaise’s bed, as he was out in the common room, while Draco shut the door and went to his own. They sat in silence for several minutes while Draco worked up his nerve and tried to determine how he would say what he needed to say. His stomach was aching with anxiety.
“Pansy,” he said quietly. “Have you ever been in love with someone?”
Pansy looked a bit taken aback. “No, I haven’t.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”
“I used to think,” he began, but his voice was hoarse, and trying to clear it didn’t help. “I used to think that being in love would be like having another extremity. I thought it would feel like finding someone who you couldn’t imagine living without.” The expression on Pansy’s face was what he thought it might look like after watching someone contort their body: a strange mixture of incredible confusion and shock.
“I don’t think I ever really believed that, though,” he went on. “Or at least, I never associated it with myself. Like a part of me never thought I would ever actually fall in love.”
“What are you trying to say?” Pansy asked, and Draco couldn’t tell how she felt about the answer she knew she was going to receive. And she did know. She may have been thick, but she wasn’t stupid. He almost wished she would have accused him of it, because he wasn’t sure he could say it out loud.
“It’s even worse than having another extremity.” Pansy’s eyes became very round, but he didn’t know if it was because of what he’d actually said, or just because he’d admitted to it. “If I had to have my arm removed, I could still live. It would be difficult, and I would hate it, but I could technically do it.” A giant bubble of emotion made his throat feel tight and he had to will himself not to tear up. “Pansy, I’m not sure I could live if he wasn’t there.”
Draco was startled to see a tear trail down Pansy’s cheek. She looked terrified.
“Draco, this isn’t a time for exaggeration,” she said softly, and her voice shook. “You feel like that because you’ve just had sex with him for the first time the other day. You’re in the honeymoon phase. You’re not . . .” but she cut herself off because he was shaking his head.
“It’s not like that.” He became aware suddenly that he was digging his nails into his arms and let go. “It’s that horrifying feeling that followed me around every day of our sixth year. When all I could think about was my mission from the Dark Lord, because my life depended on it. It was my whole life.” Draco stared directly into Pansy’s eyes in an attempt to convey to her the seriousness of what he was saying. He needed her to understand, because it was scaring him. He couldn’t handle it alone. He knew that as surely as he knew he could never have killed Dumbledore. “I love him so much, Pansy. And I’m so scared, because I know I won’t be able to handle him leaving. And he’s with Goldstein, and what if, when we graduate, he stops caring?”
It was unfair, putting this on Pansy. She was, after all, only a girl of nineteen, and a bit of a clueless one, at that. How was she supposed to know what to do in this situation? What was she supposed to say to him? This wasn’t a typical, angsty teenage relationship issue. Draco knew what he sounded like-knew how pathetic it was. And if the fear in his heart and in his very core was coming through at all in his words, he could only imagine how frightened Pansy must be. Because Draco truly felt as though he would drop dead the moment Harry stopped being interested.
Pansy sat down next to him on the bed and pulled him into a hug.
“He loves you, Draco,” she whispered. “I know he does. He’s not just going to lose interesting. And . . . and even if he did, you wouldn’t die. You’re stronger than that, you don’t need someone else to be happy.”
Draco knew she was wrong, but he didn’t argue. There was no point. Even if she believed him, she would never admit it. That was a terrifying thing to admit. No, he was better off nodding and agreeing with her, and just praying Harry wouldn’t leave him.
Chapter Eighteen | Page of Contents | Chapter Twenty
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,206
Summary: The Malfoys have always been very clear as to what they hold in high regard, such as wealth and blood purity, but as Pansy and Blaise found out in July of last year, there are some things that Lucius and Narcissa drilled into Draco's head from the time he was a little boy that left deeper impressions than even a Dark Mark.
Warnings: Eating Disorder
ADDITIONAL NOTE: The title of this fiction is an ambiguous word. No offense is meant by its use.
Thanks to
themaohour and
katelinmr for beta-ing. :)
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Manorexic
Chapter Nineteen
When Harry left the Gryffindor common room Monday night to see Pansy, he was especially frazzled. It felt like forever since he’d spoken to either Ron or Hermione, and just now, when he’d been in his dorm preparing to leave, Ron had walked in and completely ignored him. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but it was one of the few, as Seamus, Dean, or Neville was generally in there with them. When Ron had gone about getting his chess set and then gone back downstairs as if nothing had happened, Harry had had to close his eyes and take deep breaths to keep from destroying the room with his bare hands.
He was rather looking forward to seeing Pansy, though, and as he neared the library he found that his shoulders relaxed of their own accord. Draco wouldn’t be there - Pansy had made sure of that, at Harry’s request.
She wasn’t anywhere to be seen when Harry first walked into the cavernous room, so he took it upon himself to choose a table in a more secluded area near the Divination section. He pulled out his Defense book, prepared to have to wait a while if Pansy was late, but he hadn’t even opened to the right page when she sat down across from him.
“Hi,” she said a little breathlessly as she shoved her bag beneath the table. “Sorry I’m late. Draco wouldn’t leave me alone!”
Harry smiled. “What did you tell him?”
“Oh, just that I was coming here to study Transfiguration. I’m no good at it, and he wanted to help, but I said I thought I should try doing it on my own.” She scoffed. “I’m actually a little offended that he bought it. As if I would ever want to do such a thing.”
Harry laughed, an honest-to-God, mirthful laugh, and when it died away he was still smiling.
“And what’s Draco doing? Sulking?”
She smirked. “Either that or he’s shut himself away in his dorm and is drawing.”
“Wait . . . what?” Harry leaned forward in his chair, eyebrows drawn, and cocked his head. “Drawing?”
“Don’t tell him I said anything,” Pansy whispered. Her cheeks held a bit of color. “He hates that even I know. If I hadn’t found his drawings by accident I still wouldn’t, in fact. I don’t know why he hides it, though. He’s brilliant.”
Harry felt dazed. Malfoy drew . . . and was good at it? Even brilliant, if what Pansy said was true. He was intrigued.
“What kind of stuff does he draw?”
She shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. “Not really . . . not, like, normal stuff. It’s all a bit dark. Beautiful, but very scary, some of it. And he uses animals a lot. One of the first ones I found was so strange . . . I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. It was one of those Muggle Ferris wheels, you know?” Harry nodded slowly. “It didn’t have a platform or anything, just the wheel itself, and there was a big zebra sitting at the top, its knees pulled up like it didn’t fit in the cart, like it was human. And it looked depressed, and it was holding another animal’s head out over the side. The rest of the body was in the cart below. Like the zebra had grabbed its head as it was going by and didn’t let go.”
Harry swallowed and felt goose bumps raise all over his body.
“That’s . . . odd,” he said weakly. Pansy nodded.
“It was beautifully done, all in black and white, but I think that’s why it was so frightening. Because it was so good. I’ve only seen a handful of others, all dark, but they didn’t stick with me like that one.”
The two sat in silence for a few moments, Pansy probably remembering the picture while Harry tried to imagine what that could have looked like. Trying to image Draco drawing that.
Finally, Pansy broke the silence. “Anyway, why did you want to see me?”
Harry blinked rapidly, almost as though this would erase the image from his head, and looked at her.
“No reason in particular. Talk about Draco, I suppose. Other than that, I guess I’m just getting sick of Neville and Anthony.”
Pansy raised an eyebrow. “Getting sick of your boyfriend?” Harry blushed. “That’s not very noble, is it?”
Harry crossed his arms petulantly. “I’m not quite as noble as everyone likes to pretend.”
Pansy laughed. “Of course you are. You’re the only one who gave Draco a chance and decided to help.”
“Yeah, because I was curious.”
She eyed him for a moment suspiciously. “And is that all it is still? Curiosity?”
Harry colored and looked down. He began fiddling with a loose thread on the binding of his Defense book.
“I . . . no, of course not.” He was startled when Pansy reached across the table and laid her hand over his.
“You both act like it’s some horrible crime to have feelings for one another. I mean, I know you have a boyfriend, so that complicates things a bit, but that’s not the only reason you’re so weird about it, is it?” Harry shook his head, finding that there would be no point in lying about it.
“It’s just strange, is all,” he said quietly. Pansy nodded and took her hand back. “I never in a million years would have guessed this would happen. Could happen, for that matter.”
“You know,” she laughed, “it’s funny, because I think it’s pretty predictable.”
Harry stared at her. “What?”
“Harry, I used to be jealous of you.”
“Sorry?”
“Sure. Back before Draco had ever come out to me, before I realized he wasn’t suitable to be my boyfriend - for many reasons - I was always a little envious of you because you took up so much of his time and attention.”
Harry leaned back in his chair with a huff, thinking over the information he’d just been given. He supposed it was true, and not only for Draco. They had always been a bit obsessed with each other. And he wasn’t even going to get started on sixth year. . .
“Harry?”
Harry and Pansy whipped around to find Draco walking toward them cautiously, his eyebrows drawn, looking extremely confused.
“Draco!” Pansy shouted, fumbling with her Transfiguration book to get it open. “Harry was just . . . he was helping me study!”
Draco stopped at the edge of the table and looked at the two of them like they’d grown extra heads.
“Have I missed something?” he said eventually. Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing, while Pansy sat there looked immensely exasperated.
“I sat down with her,” Harry explained. Pansy eyed him. “She was studying and I decided to come talk to her - may as well, right? She’s your friend.”
“Oh.”
Pansy sighed and rolled her eyes, finally having gotten over the initial shock of Draco walking in on them.
“Why did you come down here? Did you need something?”
Draco was silent for a few moments, looking back and forth between Pansy and Harry, and then said, “I just wanted to talk to you. I had a question.”
“What’s up?”
He looked to Harry nervously, which caused Harry to feel very suspicious indeed, and then back to Pansy. He swallowed.
“Do you mind going back to our dorm . . . ?”
“Aw, come on,” Harry teased, tugging Draco down into a seat by his sleeve. Draco blushed furiously. “Secrets are no fun.”
“It’s not a secret,” Draco grumbled.
Harry laughed. “Then why can’t I be here?”
“Harry, please? I need to talk to Pansy.”
Harry sighed and nearly leaned in to kiss Draco, thought better of it, and instead squeezed his hand under the table. Draco smiled and squeezed back before standing up and beckoning for Pansy to do the same. She gathered up her books in her bag and sent a discreet, apologetic glance Harry’s way.
“See you,” she said.
“Well, I’ll walk out with you,” he said, standing up himself. “I couldn’t find the book I was looking for.”
The three of them left the library together, but before they parted ways Pansy said, “Oh, Potter! You’re good at Defense, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I’m alright.”
She rolled her eyes and he laughed. “Me and Draco are studying tomorrow evening, would you mind helping me out? I’m having trouble with the Fiendfyre essay.”
Harry looked quickly at Draco, who caught his eye and then looked away again.
“Sure,” he said, putting on a smile. “I’ll meet you in the library after dinner.”
* * *
Pansy sat down on Blaise’s bed, as he was out in the common room, while Draco shut the door and went to his own. They sat in silence for several minutes while Draco worked up his nerve and tried to determine how he would say what he needed to say. His stomach was aching with anxiety.
“Pansy,” he said quietly. “Have you ever been in love with someone?”
Pansy looked a bit taken aback. “No, I haven’t.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”
“I used to think,” he began, but his voice was hoarse, and trying to clear it didn’t help. “I used to think that being in love would be like having another extremity. I thought it would feel like finding someone who you couldn’t imagine living without.” The expression on Pansy’s face was what he thought it might look like after watching someone contort their body: a strange mixture of incredible confusion and shock.
“I don’t think I ever really believed that, though,” he went on. “Or at least, I never associated it with myself. Like a part of me never thought I would ever actually fall in love.”
“What are you trying to say?” Pansy asked, and Draco couldn’t tell how she felt about the answer she knew she was going to receive. And she did know. She may have been thick, but she wasn’t stupid. He almost wished she would have accused him of it, because he wasn’t sure he could say it out loud.
“It’s even worse than having another extremity.” Pansy’s eyes became very round, but he didn’t know if it was because of what he’d actually said, or just because he’d admitted to it. “If I had to have my arm removed, I could still live. It would be difficult, and I would hate it, but I could technically do it.” A giant bubble of emotion made his throat feel tight and he had to will himself not to tear up. “Pansy, I’m not sure I could live if he wasn’t there.”
Draco was startled to see a tear trail down Pansy’s cheek. She looked terrified.
“Draco, this isn’t a time for exaggeration,” she said softly, and her voice shook. “You feel like that because you’ve just had sex with him for the first time the other day. You’re in the honeymoon phase. You’re not . . .” but she cut herself off because he was shaking his head.
“It’s not like that.” He became aware suddenly that he was digging his nails into his arms and let go. “It’s that horrifying feeling that followed me around every day of our sixth year. When all I could think about was my mission from the Dark Lord, because my life depended on it. It was my whole life.” Draco stared directly into Pansy’s eyes in an attempt to convey to her the seriousness of what he was saying. He needed her to understand, because it was scaring him. He couldn’t handle it alone. He knew that as surely as he knew he could never have killed Dumbledore. “I love him so much, Pansy. And I’m so scared, because I know I won’t be able to handle him leaving. And he’s with Goldstein, and what if, when we graduate, he stops caring?”
It was unfair, putting this on Pansy. She was, after all, only a girl of nineteen, and a bit of a clueless one, at that. How was she supposed to know what to do in this situation? What was she supposed to say to him? This wasn’t a typical, angsty teenage relationship issue. Draco knew what he sounded like-knew how pathetic it was. And if the fear in his heart and in his very core was coming through at all in his words, he could only imagine how frightened Pansy must be. Because Draco truly felt as though he would drop dead the moment Harry stopped being interested.
Pansy sat down next to him on the bed and pulled him into a hug.
“He loves you, Draco,” she whispered. “I know he does. He’s not just going to lose interesting. And . . . and even if he did, you wouldn’t die. You’re stronger than that, you don’t need someone else to be happy.”
Draco knew she was wrong, but he didn’t argue. There was no point. Even if she believed him, she would never admit it. That was a terrifying thing to admit. No, he was better off nodding and agreeing with her, and just praying Harry wouldn’t leave him.
Chapter Eighteen | Page of Contents | Chapter Twenty