Declaimer: I do not own anything you recognize as J.K. Rowling's property and/or Warner Bros. Corp., Bloomsbury Editorials, among others.
Important: This work is not up for reproduction without previous authorization.
Warning: Explicit sex scenes, the author is not responsible for any moral and/or ethical damage.
Note: Thanks to J.K. Rowling for her wonderful magical world, to my friend Annie because her role plays always bring great ideas to my mind and to Corrie, who's beta improved my prose. Huggles Three Of Them Oh! And don't forget that feed-back is the muse of all writer.

Chapter The First - Back From Nowhere

"My father was a man of great determination, and he certainly loved my mother deeply. They used to tell me this story, when I was little, about a blonde princess and a blond prince that lived in a huge castle..." Everyone stared at the young man expectantly, but the words never came out from his mouth, almost as if he had suddenly gone voiceless. A figure in the long distance gasped lowly and just then the minister stepped up to him and placed an empathic hand on his shoulder. "It is fine, son. Let's just continue, shall we?"

The blond wizard stepped away from the center and into the crowd, his icy eyes upon the couple of luxurious wooden coffins that the people surrounded. They were beautifully adorned with fresh white roses, both equally, as her mother loved those flowers. He wandered around the familiar faces that were the leftovers of the high society pureblooded magical community. In all his life, Draco Malfoy had never seen such gloomy faces and thick, truthful tears. It was certainly a day of sadness for all those present.

The words of the minister appeared lost in his thoughts, like a faint echo in a huge auditorium; all he could focus on were the wooden coffins. He didn't even notice when both started to be lowered down into the holes in the ground until a shovels of dirt were thrown onto them. His eyes started pouring, most unlikely for him, showing how hurt he felt for his loss. He was now alone in this world of magic and didn't know what to do.

The Malfoy Manor would certainly become a desolated place to be in. Its dark rooms soon would be covered in dust from lack of visitors and the ball rooms would grow old as they remained empty. Surely he would have to dismiss some servants, perhaps even sell the whole property. Why would he want such huge place if he had no one to share it with? No wife, no kids, no parents... Why would he want to keep such place if it only brought horrible memories to his already disturbed mind?

"Draco, I am so sorry." He felt a couple of strong arms being wrapped around his shoulders and, almost as a reflex, he responded by patting the woman's back. "Millicent, I will be okay. Don't worry," he lied skillfully and drew a faint smile on his over-pale face, the dark bags under his eyes showing off. "Don't hesitate to ask Vincent and me if there is anything we can do for you. The funeral was certainly lovely, as your parents would have wanted." He nodded simply and the woman walked away, hand-in-hand with a little chubby girl that jogged by her side. She was just one of the many people that approached him to show their condolences, until Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle and him, were the only ones left... Or were they?

"Millicent is right, Draco." Vincent broke the silence in between the men that still stared at the now fully covered coffins. Though he had been considered just a stupid gorilla back in school, both he and Gregory had matured amazingly well. "You are welcome in our home, for as long as you please and for anything." The blond nodded absently and the sudden move of Gregory's head toward the vast grounds up onto the manor caught his almost full attention. The dark figure of what seemed a young beautiful woman was making her way toward them, excruciatingly slowly much to all's dislike. She was dressed all in black, not to their surprise and her face was covered with a veil that hid perfectly her identity.

It was not until she was five or six steps away from them, when they all noticed it was none other but Pansy Parkinson, whom they had seen since little of after Hogwarts. A deadly silence fell over the group as Pansy stared at her feet, her fingers trailing a handkerchief. They could easily notice she had been crying by the way she seemed to tremble under the dark veil. Finally, she spoke and Gregory and Vincent could do no other but swallow dryly. "Draco, I came as soon as I heard about..." Her obsidian eyes looked up at the platinum blond, what was she to say? "I am so sorry. Know that you can tr-" There was no need for her to finish; Draco knew exactly what she was about to say. A burning rage trailed his veins all of a sudden and without thinking his words, he spoke almost in a trail of yells.

"How do you dare to make an appearance here now?" Pansy looked back down, twitching the handkerchief painfully, she did not know what to say. Draco's reproaching was justified, not even she knew why she had come to meet him, she just knew it was something she had to do. Not only because Draco had been the love of her life, but also because Narcisssa Black-Malfoy had always appeared to be like a mother to the girl since she had lost hers little after turning thirteen.

"Draco...you know, I...I am here because I wanted to tell you I am with you and that I feel your pain and that – that – that I am sorry for what I did but..." Gregory grabbed her arm, half because he was afraid she would fall onto her knees and plead to them, half because he wanted her to stop talking. He could see her words had crept through Draco's heart as everything in the whole ceremony had. Despite how he had treated her during their teenage years, Draco had always had a special place for Pansy in his heart and both Vincent and Gregory knew he was in love with her too.

"We've heard that story many times before, Pansy," Gregory spoke slowly. "And you know we believe none of it." Pansy gasped again. Yes, she had blurted out her apologies twice in the past, shortly before she left, but she hadn't expected them to take it all so personally.

"Please, Vince, Greg, Draco... Please." Her voice came out as nothing but a faint whisper. Now she was actually pleading, something most unlikely for a Slytherin, but there was nothing else she could think of doing that would help.

Her tears fell onto the ground and loud sobs escaped her throat. Draco shook his head thinking. If she had been there, if she would just had seen the way they died, the way they were all tortured by their own Lord. He could not believe she was crying over something she didn't live. "Save it Pansy." He said in the coldest voice he had ever managed.

"Draco, I'm sorry. But I couldn't stay here. I was scared, they scared me so much and my father, you know he threatened me. I apologized to your parents before leaving. They said I was doing wrong but I was to follow my heart. My heart was not in this war, but now I am here. I want to be by your side in this. Please."

It was a lost cause, or so it seemed. She saw, horrified, the way the three men shook their heads in disapproval and heard, like a dagger being held against her skin, Vincent's meaningful words. "You should have been here when we were all suffering. We were to go through this all together, remember? Now, it is useless. You are useless."

Pansy's sobs grew louder and stronger; she almost choked in her own tears and gasps of horror and dislike. Her heart was beating furiously, making her chest burn as it had never done before. Draco's heart itself was breaking into little pieces watching how she suffered over their words and actions. He wanted to hold her, to whisper into her ear that it was okay, to stroke her flushed cheeks, to run his lustful fingertips along the dark strips of her wavy hair, to tell her that everything would go just fine and that everyone would forget what she had done. But things weren't like that and no matter how much he wanted her to stop crying so bitterly, he somewhat wanted her to suffer as much as he suffered when she left.

"Leave us alone," Draco demanded as Vincent's and Gregory's eyes widened slightly.

"Draco, are you..." One started but was cut off by Draco's insistent nodding. They walked away slowly, looking back every now and then, but it was not until they were far from view that he spoke to her again.

"Have you any idea of what we've suffered?" He was mainly speaking about himself, but opening the comment to everyone else that had suffered a loss in this dark war made it all more melodramatic. Pansy nodded slightly, still staring at her feet. Draco laughed coldly, sarcastically, bitterly and it pained Pansy hugely. "Of course you don't," he spat despitefully.

Pansy gathered herself and her eyes met his in a quick glance that he avoided almost immediately. "I've suffered my own battle, Draco."

This he could not believe. Pansy had left without asking anything of him and she had missed all the hard parts of seeing death and desolation spreading over the heads of him and his life-long friends.

"Don't lie to me, Pansy. You have no idea." But she did, or at least she thought she did. Her eyes turned fierce, just then she pulled her veil back and uncovered her beautiful yet sleepless looking face to him.

"You have no idea. No idea." Thick tears kept on running down her cheeks, landing on the grass beneath their feet. She ached for his touch, to feel his strong arms around her still tiny waist as she had long ago when they were young, in love and together, when everything was beautiful still.

. - . - .

The Dark Lord had disappeared two years ago now, his last appearance in their sixth year of school and then everything turned into shadows. Some of his followers started to doubt his word, saying he was no longer the man they had met before Harry Potter's parents murder had been accomplished; that he had ran away once again or worse, died in the intent of regaining strength.

Life had gone easily and calmly for most; the pureblooded community was being prepared for plenty of feasts in the coming couple of years. Vincent Crabbe was to marry Millicent Bulstrode, Blaise Zabini would take Juliette Nott as his wife soon enough, Gregory Goyle was promised to Paulette Parkinson, and her cousin Pansy Parkinson was of course, due to marry her only and one true love, Draco Malfoy, as everyone had expected since the day she had been born.

Everything appeared to be taking shape again. Everyone seemed happy enough, mostly Pansy and Draco whose romance had grown during their last year at Hogwarts, when he became Head Boy and she matured into a gorgeous young witch.

That summer afternoon seemed as any other in the Malfoy Manor, Narcissa and Lucius had gone off toward the stables to catch a ride on their favorite horses just before traveling to the limits of their grounds and check how things were going on the nearby village, which they visited mostly every month. The house was somewhat empty since the young couple, Pansy and Draco, spent their time in the beautiful greenhouse full of white, pink and red roses, which his mother took excellent care of.

"Oh my, I do love this place," Pansy said in between sighs and sparkles glowing in her dark eyes. She felt a couple of delicate hands slipping in between her arms and abdomen, making her feel safe.

"I will make you one, in our new home. You will breed roses as my mother does and even the tulips you love the most. You would like that, wouldn't you?" As a response he got a deep sigh and a wide smile, wide enough just to show a little part of her pearl color tooth. "That was what I thought," Draco whispered lowly into Pansy's ear, his hot breath hitting her fair skin which made chills of pleasure and desire run down her spine.

Noticing how she had stiffened at this, Draco smirked. He loved to be acknowledged once and again that he could make Pansy feel that way. He loved to imagine how she slowly grew wet just because of his light touch and deep voice, to feel her tremble shyly when his hands caressed places not even she knew would grow excited. It was, of course, reciprocate. Pansy found it amusing how he hardened beneath his robes every time she sat on his lap or touched him in any tempting or inviting sort of way.

"I want orchids," she stated firmly.

Draco's thoughts were interrupted and the smirk of his face faded instantly. "Sorry?"

Pansy giggled softly. "I said that I would like to breed orchids," she rephrased it.

Draco nodded in agreement and acknowledgement. "Whatever you want my beautiful Slytherin Princess."

. - . - .

"Don't you remember how it was? When we were together? When you still loved me?" Draco nodded, looking aside. He remembered as vividly as she did. Those things could hardly be forgotten, mostly when it is a soul-mate issue of which we are talking about. "Then, Draco, how could you not respect those recalls and give me the forgiveness that would make my soul rest in peace?"

He couldn't tell her the truth. He couldn't tell her he wanted her to suffer. That he expected her to die as many times as he felt he had because he missed her badly, because he wanted her close. She had disgraced his life; he couldn't even marry someone else when she left because he was so in love with her. Because he wanted nothing else but Pansy Parkinson, and for a while, Draco let the hopes inside his heart grow. Believing that someday she would come back, and she had. But it was just too late. "I can't," he finally responded.

She was not surprised by his answer. Pansy thought she understood what he felt and how he thought, at least the basic part of it. She had disgraced the Malfoys, pushing aside the social engagement she had with the youngest of them. Denying them what they most needed, pure heir to make both families proud, had made them increasingly angry. There were plenty of secrets that she kept, but she didn't think Draco was ready to hear all the truth. No, not just yet.

"I understand. I wouldn't forgive me if I were you. But I had to try." Draco met her eyes once again, he felt exhausted. It had been too much for one single day: the funeral, the last good-bye, the return of someone that he had believed dead. The young wizard could not help himself but yawn discretely and look around.

Pansy soon noticed this and blushed intensely, she was keeping his away from the rest he needed. So perhaps it was time to leave again, just to come back soon enough and tell everything she had to tell. "Why don't...why don't you go to your chamber and get some rest? I – I believe this was, indeed, a bad moment to come." A mixture of relief, guilt and disappointment filled him. Draco did not know if it was okay to let her leave once again, as he constantly reproached himself that he didn't go after her the first time. But he was, matter-of-factly, pretty tired and some sleep wouldn't hurt at all. Perhaps if he did, he would be able to reason better for her sake.

"I presume that would be appropriate." And with this, the blond started making his way to the manor, which was considerably far from where they had been standing. Pansy stood still where she was, watching him as he disappeared. Tears forming in her eyes again, but this time she held them back. It was better not to cry anymore.

Back in the house, Draco ordered to the house elves to not disturb him for the rest of the day. He had been informed that Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle had left, not until leaving behind the promise of coming back later that day or early the next morning to see how he was doing. Even Blaise had left a quick note for him, which read that he, Draco, had all the support of the world coming from Blaise and his family, that he truly recommended not to do anything stupid and if he needed anything, emphasizing this part, that he was just an owl away.

Draco couldn't suppress a smile; it was nice to see that his friends cared for him. And even some of Pansy's words had been helpful. After this he went to his chamber, where he drank a cup of tea, which mostly tasted as sand more than anything else, and slipped into silk royal blue night clothes. On the chest's pocket, his initials were stamped in platinum; his mother had done that. He could still remember the day that Pansy made fun of it because it was a childish thing. He never told her he knew about Pansy's bed clothing, which were pink with white flowers, something that was way more childish than initials in some clothes.

He pulled the sheets down so he could slip in comfortably. Draco's gray eyes shut closed after a little while of staring onto the ceiling thoughtfully. He entered a dreamful sleep that turned his rest uneasy.

Will Be Continued...