Rotten Wood
Title: Rotten Wood
Pairings: Draco/Pansy
Rating: R
Genre: Dark
Word Count: approx. 2990
Disclaimer: It’s all J.K. Rowling's. Thanks for letting us play. No malice is meant by the use of these characters. The title ‘Rotten Wood’ is a line from the song “Crooked Teeth” by Death Cab for Cutie. The song was the inspiration for this story.
Warnings: adult language, het
Beta: The wonderful
kyfairie
Summary: Draco is returning for his seventh year at Hogwarts. He boards the train knowing his status among his fellow Slytherins is in question.
My father and mother turning their backs to the station is the last thing I see as the train rounds the corner and heads north. I know they are worried, but to tell the truth, I’m more concerned for them than myself. Blaise is staring at me from across the way. My hand is on my wand, just in case. No one said a word when I entered the car; they just adjusted their seating so I could take my usual spot by the window. I’m thankful Pansy isn’t here right now, since she would insist on breaking my silence.
Crabbe and Goyle seem excited about returning to school. This is a first, in the past they had their usual whines about classes and homework starting tomorrow. Headmaster Snape, Fuck-how ironic is that, sent out notices earlier explaining the changes that we could expect. DADA was now just DA. Last year, at this time, I would have been thrilled. Last year, at this time, I was an ignorant boy.
“Pansy should be back soon,” Daphne whispers to Blaise. “She’s with Alecto discussing her ‘Head Girl’ position. Nott and Millicent are with the Prefects and Amycus.”
I know all eyes just turned towards me to see my reaction. I pretend I wasn’t listening. I have heard, of course, but the information is old to me. I witnessed all of the Hogwarts planning, and had to suffer the humiliation of having the Dark Lord admonish me in front of family and guests on why I wasn’t worthy to be 'Head Boy' or even a Prefect. He had tested the others to see how well they could punish a wrong doer. My heart wasn’t in it. Big fucking deal. It would have been grand to be Head Boy if things had been like they were before, but to be handed it because I could torture someone longer than the others, or like Pansy, willing to spill any hint of gossip, was not what I considered to be the test to be Head Boy. I have to stop myself from laughing at the irony that I’m looking back somewhat fondly on previous years.
The door slides open loudly. “Weasel boy is sick with spattergroit, and the Weaslette and Potter have broken up. Potter, is not here,” Pansy announces as she prances in. I stifle a laugh, as if any of us expected Potter to be here. Nott is coming in behind Pansy. She motions for Vincent to move over and she fucking sits down next to me.
“Hey, Pansy, good to see you and congratulations on being Head Girl,” I say without meaning one word of it. I kiss her on her rounded cheek. I do this to test the waters. I don’t know if the rest all know about father’s demotion in the ranks, but Pansy does; she was at the Manor often enough this summer. Bellatrix took a liking to her. A hint of adulation towards me is still in her eyes, and that is a good sign, I think.
“Thanks, Draco, but it would have been more fun with you being Head Boy than ….”
I give her a little smirk. “Yes, well Slytherin couldn’t have all the joy now, could it?”
“Fucking shite, Malfoy, that is not the reason and you know it. Your standing is about as low as the Blood traitors right now,” Nott says. His arrogance is dripping off his tongue.
My hand tightens its grip on my wand.
“Shut it, Theodore,” Pansy says in defiance. I don’t know whether to be proud of her or pissed off that she is trying to protect me. “Don’t forget where the Dark Lord’s residence is at the moment.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Nott spits back. “Lucius has been replaced by Snape as his second in command.”
Well, fuck, now it is in the open.
Crabbe and Goyle are snickering.
“Nott, as far as I know, Draco is the only one Marked,” Blaise states, surprising the shite out of me. I’ve never known the bloke to go out on a limb before.
“And…” Nott asks impatiently.
“And, considering he is the only student Marked, he is the only one who can reach the Dark Lord. If the Dark Lord considered Draco so low, he would have Marked one of us before this train ride. He’s a Death Eater, Nott.”
Fucking hell, I think I have a new best friend.
I turn my gaze to Zabini briefly, and the quick look is enough. He knows this year is going to be hell. Slughorn didn’t choose him for his Slug Club only because of his mother. Zabini is bright and understands the war on the outside will be infiltrating inside the walls of Hogwarts. Now is not the time for the Slytherins to start tearing each other down. I know the wizard holds no affection for me, but he understands the reality of the situation.
Nott shuts up, but Pansy prattles on. Her perfume is enough to gag me, and her excitement in being Head Girl makes me want to vomit.
“So none of the Mudbloods are allowed back to school and I heard Umbridge is heading the Mudblood registry at the Ministry.” I hear Nott say above the other conversations going on in the car.
A general mumble of agreement that this is a good thing in advancing our community’s goal of ridding such filth flows through the compartment. My thoughts turn to Granger. I wonder if she is back in the Muggle world with her family. I know there was a raid on her home, but no one was there. My guess is that she is with Potter, wherever the hell he is. Locked away in safety, I presume. The great concern that the Golden Boy might get hurt makes me laugh. The bastard shattered my father’s wand. I shiver as I recall the screams of Ollivander in the cellar.
I keep my thoughts to myself. Only a few times over the past summer were we left alone as a family at the Manor. Aunt Bellatrix had permanently moved in, and much to my surprise, the Dark Lord was often in her private suite. I release a small laugh at the images flowing through my brain. Pansy puts her small chubby hand on my arm. I want to remove it, but I don’t. She has been a friend for so long and sometimes more, but not recently. What we had was never real, just convenient and built upon the ideals and traditions of our parents. No, I won’t move her hand; it is almost starting to feel comforting.
Suddenly, I realize, I do feel better. The overriding feeling of fear and tension I had at my home all summer is fading. I think of my father, still trying to be proud, trying to be strong for mother and me. And mother and me, trying to be the same for him. Through out this whole mess, the one thing I’ve discovered is that I am unconditionally loved by my parents, and that I love them. I will not let my thoughts drift down the path of wondering how I would handle it if I lost them. I can’t imagine losing both of … I instantly think of Potter. It will be strange this year not having him around. I always wished the arsehole was gone, but not this way.
The door slides open. “Sweets, my dears.” I have no idea how long I’ve been staring out the window not listening to the bantering between the snakes. Pansy’s head is on my shoulder; she is sleeping, soft snorts come out of her small nose. Any other time I would have teased her, but I let her be. The names of Dean Thomas and Justin Finch-Fletchley I hear mentioned as Mudbloods, Thomas as a maybe, but he hadn’t registered. I wonder who else was caught up and my stomach turns.
“Where’s Davis?” I whisper across to Daphne when I catch her eye.
She jerks her head to the cart, quickly stands up, and moves to the door. I follow her lead after extricating myself from Pansy’s clutches, and buy a pumpkin pasty and juice.
I don’t think I can eat right now and I shove the pasty in my pocket. Daphne mumbles next to me, “Davis is a half-blood. She can’t prove it, though.”
I drink the juice down, stay at the door waiting for the cart to pass, and head for the loo. The passageway is clear, but still I can hear giggles coming from a car filled with first years. Sweet memories come and go; actually, I push them away. The small loo has a mirror, and I look at myself as I wash my hands after taking a piss. I look like shite. I am surprised even Pansy finds an interest at me at the moment. I’m not sure what to do about her. I do know I can’t be with her physically anymore, the thought turns my stomach. When did this happen? It happened when I saw the connection between my mother and father. They loved each other, and that love was carrying them through this time. Without saying a word, they knew what the other was thinking. Just a simple glance or slight touch was enough. No, Pansy is not bright enough or deep enough emotionally to fulfill that role.
I open the door. Fuck, Pansy is waiting for me. She grabs my hand and leads me to the Prefects car. Two fifth year Hufflepuffs are in there. Pansy raises her wand and they jump up and leave without a word being spoken. A look of satisfaction passes over Pansy’s face; she does nothing to hide it. I find it disgusting, but I give her a smirk of approval.
We sit down on the brown, crushed-velvet booth seats. I had forgotten how nice this particular car was. Our hands are still clasped and she’s gripping mine tighter. Her head rests on my shoulder again, and soon she has tilted it to the side and I feel her lips caressing my neck. Instead of jolts of desire, ice travels through my veins. “Pansy, please, no,” I whisper. She stops. I’ve never told her no before.
She adjusts her seating position and then kisses me on the lips. I can feel the passion coming my way; I am not sure what I have to return.
“Pansy,” I whisper again, and for some unknown reason, I kiss her back. Maybe it was for old time’s sake, and maybe because it was easier than explaining why I wanted to end this thing we had going on for years. We were never a true couple, it was just understood that we were each other’s number one. I know she saw other blokes now and then, and she knew about the other witches I played with, but we always came back to each other. Why? I ask myself as I hear the soft moan that used to kick my arousal into high gear. I continue kissing her as my thoughts go back to why.
My body is going through the motions and soon we are lying down on the seat. The answers to why I’ve been with her are swirling through my head as my hand makes its way underneath her shirt. She adores me and she spouts back the same drivel I was professing about how things should be. The foundation has all been built from rotten wood. There is no depth. There’s nothing there.
Neither of us locked the door; it opens and someone gasps and apologises as it closes. They won’t say a word, as Slytherin rules right now. I couldn't give a fuck that they’ve seen my bare arse pounding up and down as I slide in and out of Pansy’s cunt. I don’t know whether she came or not, probably not, but I have. I pull out and use her skirt to wipe myself off.
Fuck, now she wants to cuddle and talk. I pull up my trousers while she attends to her knickers. We sit up and I put my arm around her, she nestles her head next to mine. She grasps onto my left arm and rolls back my sleeve. “God, you are so lucky,” she says sincerely. “I won’t get mine until I’m eighteen.” If I my dick wasn’t already going down from fucking, that statement would have done it.
“Are you sure you want it?” I ask, prodding into territory I know I shouldn’t.
The question startles her and then she gazes intently at me and begins to laugh. “Fuck, Draco, I thought you were serious there for a moment. Of course, I want it. Bella said it is the greatest honour a witch could have. He has only Marked a few witches.”
“So, is my Aunt Bellatrix your role model?”
“Yes, and I think she likes me.”
“Do you think she likes me?”
Pansy rolls my sleeve back down and then ruffles my hair. “Of course she does. She said that you still had a chance to redeem yourself, even if your parents don’t.”
My hands start to fidget, my body wants to shake, but I force it not too. “Really, and how am I supposed to do that?”
Pansy’s lips are now kissing my neck. There will be no round two. A second round would mean I had desire, I don’t. This last fuck was only physical; I’m already disgusted with myself. “I don’t know, Draco,” she whispers in my ear. “But, I will protect you until you regain your status.”
I push her away; she practically falls off the seat. “No!” I yell. Can things get any worse than shite-brained Pansy Parkinson offering to protect me? I need to think fast. I can’t piss her off, but I can’t have her next to me anymore.
“Fuck, Draco, what did you do that for?”
I feel like saying because she is trying to emasculate me, but she wouldn’t know what the word means.
I put out my hand out and help her back up. My arm goes around her; I kiss her cheek, and make my way down to her neck. “This has to end, baby,” I whisper. “You have to maintain your status and be feared, like Bella,” I add knowing that she will accept the reasoning if her mentor is involved. “If you are around me, they will know you have a soft spot.” I stop talking and nibble on her earlobe.
I hear the first sniffle. “Draco, we can hide.”
I swipe the inside of her ear with the tip of my tongue. “No, everyone will be watching you, waiting for you to falter and take your place.”
She turns towards me and we kiss. I can feel the wetness on my face as the tears flow. “I’ll miss you,” I say softly, as I stand to leave.
She sits there and wipes her eyes. “Maybe when this is all over, and the Dark Lord has killed Potter, we can…”
I give her a smile and nod. “Yeah, maybe then, baby.”
I take a deep breath and make my way back to the loo to clean up some more. I don’t think I can handle her scent on me one more second. When I get back to the Slytherin car, everyone has changed into their robes. I gather mine and do the same. “Where’s Pansy?” Vincent asks as I sit down.
I shrug. “I don’t know,” I respond with a hint of sadness to my voice. Everyone turns and stares at me again. “She broke-up with me. Apparently, she needs to be with someone in better standing.”
“But it’s your father that…” Daphne begins to say.
I nod. “Her reasoning is sound.” I say as I rub my left lower arm. The robe sleeve rises and part of the Mark is revealed. I hear a few intakes of breath. “We’ll get back together if I get a chance to complete my mission.”
The only sound comes from the train clacking its way down the tracks.
A bark of a laugh comes from Nott. “Right, Malfoy! You just want us to believe the Dark Lord gave you another mission. Even if he did, you will probably fuck it up like last time?”
The tension is mounting and I can feel how uncomfortable everyone else is. I lift my wand and point it at Nott. He’s suddenly bound and silenced without a single movement from my lips. “If Potter shows his face in the castle, he’s mine, and I will take him alive,” I announce and turn to look outside the window satisfied that they know I can still be a bastard. The train is slowing down and Hogsmeade is in sight.
I’m one of the last to depart, and I’m frozen in my place as a skeletal beast pulls a carriage next to me. I’ve never seen these creatures before, but I know what they are. The great oaf’s lesson on thestrals returns. I can’t stop staring at them and I am sure most of the people ahead can’t see them. A melodic soft voice says near me, “Have you seen someone die this summer?” I quickly turn my head and there stands Loony Lovegood. She almost skips away from me.
The carriage I enter is filled with Ravenclaws. They don’t acknowledge me, and I don’t acknowledge them. I pull out my wand and let it roll between my fingers. I fantasize as we drive towards the castle. My fantasies are of enormous size: I wish this wand were the one to take down Potter and the Dark Lord. They both have fucked up my life, but even I must admit that if I could only do one, it would be the Dark Lord.
finis