Tainted Love

Resignation

DRACO

In the five years they had been conducting their private relationship, Draco had only been to Pansy's apartment twice.

It would be bad if the Prophet caught Pansy at Draco's - but she could find some way to explain it, some way to excuse the fact that she was seeing him. There was no way to excuse him coming to her apartment. It would look, to everyone else, like she had forgiven him.

The truth was that she had never been angry with him in the first place. But that didn't matter - what mattered to Pansy was not what she thought, but rather what everyone else thought.

All this to say that Draco had returned from work on Friday to find Pansy's owl waiting at his window. It had been over a month since he had last seen her, more than that since he had fucked her. He supposed part of him should be surprised to hear from her, but he wasn't.

He always knew she would come back to him.

Her letter, as usual, was brief. But the contents of it were different than usual - instead of a date or a time, Pansy had sent an address.

Come over tonight. Please.

It was unlike her to say please. The address wasn't the apartment he had been to twice. It wasn't in the city at all - no, it was outside of it, in the countryside. Not far from the Manor, come to think of it.

It wasn't her family home, either. Draco knew the Parkinsons' address like he knew his own last name. It was second nature.

Since he had never been there before, he couldn't apparate. Which meant that he had to call a car. He fucking hated cars. It was an hour in the backseat, his hand always on the hilt of his wand in case the driver made any moves against him.

Draco never forgot the amount of hatred some people had for him. He couldn't blame them, but he didn't trust anybody either. It was easier that way. Safer.

The driver dropped him in front of a pair of metal gates and wordlessly pulled away as soon as he got out of the car.

Draco narrowed his eyes, looking at the house beyond it. It was nice, large with big windows. It was boxy, like somebody had tried to recreate a castle but didn't quite know how to build a tower.

"Draco Malfoy for Pansy Parkinson," he said to the gate. It swung open promptly.

Pansy was waiting for him at the door to the house. It was a nice day, cold and sunny. She was wearing a long-sleeved dress and heels. He wondered if that's what she wore around the house or whether she had put them on to see him.

It was strange that he didn't know. He loved her but had no idea what she looked like in her own space, apart from him.

"Hello," she said, watching him carefully as he climbed the steps to the doorway.

"Where are we?" Draco asked. They always skipped pleasantries.

"My house," Pansy said, turning and walking inside it. She left her hand in the middle of the door, holding it open until Draco could grab it himself.

It was dark inside, despite the windows. The little bit of light they let in was being obscured by halfway-drawn curtains and closed doors. They were standing in a hallway, all dark wood. A staircase spiraled up beside them, and at the end a door was ajar.

Pansy led Draco down it, giving him no more time to survey his surroundings.

"You didn't tell me you bought a house," he said.

"I thought you could read it in the Prophet," she said carefully. Draco hadn't been reading the paper lately. He was preoccupied with other things.