Tainted Love

The Trouble With Pansy

DRACO

Draco had always preferred walking home after work. He usually left just as the sun was fading away from the horizon, the sky darkening to a sort of grey and then a complete black. It was an excellent way to collect his thoughts.

Ever since he had moved out of the Manor (too many memories, and he lived them enough in his nightmares to have to experience them in real life) and to an apartment on the nice end of Diagon, he found it better to walk, to feel the sting of the air on his skin. If nothing else, watching people move out of his way as he made his way down the sidewalk was satisfying.

His name might still be synonymous with that of the deposed Dark Lord, but people still found his presence powerful enough to step aside for him.

Usually, he took the time to think through complex potions issues or the properties of whatever artifact the Ministry had recovered and passed along to him to study.

Today, though, he was thinking about Iris Knightley. And how fucking infuriating she was.

He wasn't lying when he said he preferred to work alone. The last two months had been some of the most productive of his life - he no longer had to compare notes with anybody, no longer had to keep tabs on another person as he went about his work.

So when Minister Shacklebolt had informed him that he would be getting a new partner by the beginning of June, he dreaded the thought.

And once he learned that it would be a girl, he found himself dreading it even more.

His three previous partners had all been men, and though they were utterly incompetent compared to him, he never had to worry about them wandering over to the Mirror of Erised just to have a look. It seemed to Draco that girls shouldn't have access to the Love Chamber at all - they were too prone to fantasies of romance.

Iris had proven that within five minutes of entering the room. She was drawn to the Amortentia fountain as if she was being pulled on a string.

He wondered what she had smelled - no, he didn't. Probably something like candy, a bouquet of flowers, chocolate... clichéd things that teenagers believe symbolize love.

Even though he used the nose-blocking spell every day to focus more easily on his work, Draco knew exactly what the fountain would smell like to him if he didn't. It had smelled the same since that first day in sixth year that Slughorn had unveiled it.

And therein, perhaps, lay the real problem with Iris - with women in general. Draco would forever compare every girl in his life to the one he had been with since he was thirteen years old.

His Amortentia smelled like black coffee, peppermint, and Pansy Parkinson's perfume.

And nobody was anything special compared to Pansy, least of all Iris.

He swung the door open, letting it bounce on its hinges before kicking it closed behind him. He shrugged his coat off, turning to put it on the hanger. Then he saw them.

Sitting right next to the door. A pair of red heels.

He chuckled to himself, turning into the apartment. Fuck, she was perfect. He had made a single throwaway comment to her on the phone about fucking off dinner at her parents' house, and she had done it.

He walked from the entrance hall into the large living room of his apartment. Pansy was draped across the couch, her coat hanging from its arm. She was clearly dressed up to go somewhere, wearing a long black dress that accentuated every part of her perfect body.

He let his eyes wander over her freely as she sat up slightly, her hair spilling over her shoulders.

"You kept me waiting," she said, her voice low and gravelly.