Henrietta Potter And The Slytherin Child - (A 'Henrietta Potter' sequel) || D.M

37 - Parkinson

Ugh. This was a nightmare. Everything was so green. I realised that I stuck out like a sore thumb in my red dress.

Good.

"Drakie!" I shuddered at the sound of the familiar screech. It was like listening to someone scraping their fingernails down a chalkboard.

A dark haired woman in an ugly green dress threw herself at Draco, planting a huge smacker right on his lips.

The bitch. Doesn't she know he's recently widowed?

"It's been soooo long, darling!" She gushed, after finally releasing her lips from his. "It's just dreadful about poor darling Astoria. I know Daphne's been simply beside herself with grief, so I can't imagine what horrors you have been going through."

Draco looked awkward. Very awkward. His eyes darted to me, not unnoticed by Pansy who didn't bother to hide her revulsion as she suddenly realised I was stood there.

"You?!" she spat, looking me up and down with complete disdain. No doubt the red offended her. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm Draco's plus one," I beamed, linking my arm in his, which he was quick to shrug off at Pansy's horrified reaction.

"As a friend," he chuckled nervously, taking a small step away from me.

What a fucking prick.

"You are friends with Potter?" Pansy cried incredulously, glaring at him.

She wasn't the only one glaring.

Draco tugged nervously at his collar, his eyes darting between Pansy and I as we both waited furiously for his explanation. "Well, I- uh, she has shown a lot of support for my son, seeing as her own son is friends with him. And this is just- ah- um... a thank you for looking after him."

"Oh yes," Pansy sneered, turning to me, her voice now dangerously silky soft, "I heard you had a son who ended up in Slytherin. That must really smart, having a son on the dark side."

"There is nothing dark about my son, Parkinson," I snarled, narrowing my eyes at her, "just because the likes of you gave Slytherin a bad name, doesn't mean they're all like that."

"Now, now, Potter," Pansy smiled evilly, "play nice or I'll have you removed, and I'm sure you wouldn't want to let down your new friend, would you?"

She glanced back at Draco, smiling sweetly, "Do help yourself to a drink, Drakie dear, I must go and mingle. We'll chat later, there's simply so much to catch up on, it seems."

Her gleaming eyes once again roamed over me, her eyebrows raised so high they almost hit the ceiling.

"I didn't even want to fucking come here tonight!" I hissed furiously in Draco's ear as we fought our way through the crowded ballroom in search of a drink. "You practically got down on your knees begging and yet now you're embarrassed?!"

"Look, it's complicated, Potter," he sighed heavily, being sure to keep an acceptable distance between us at all times, "it's a Slytherin thing, well - actually it's more of a pure blood thing."

"Oh, well! Then I'm so pleased you brought me here seeing as I'm neither one of those things!" I hissed angrily.

We had reached the drinks table by this point, and I grabbed the nearest flute of champagne throwing my head back, downing it in one.

Draco watched me warily. "Don't you think you'd better slow down there, Potter? We've still got three hours to go until midnight."

"Ugh, don't remind me how long it is!" I snapped furiously, grabbing a fresh flute and knocking that one back too. Fuck, I was pissed off.