Prologue

They were bored, drunk, and…well…bored.

They were bored with school, with life, and with each other.

Love had never been an issue. Neither knew how to love, well at least not out side their own self worth. They were Slytherin, after all, the word simply was not in their vocabulary. Their parents had never learned it so in turn could not teach it.

Love was not a part of their world. Not when you're a pureblood. Duty and family preservation is what was taught, what was drilled into their heads since infancy.

When they graduated they would work where their parents dictated, marry who their parents chose and have lots of babies to ensure the magical blood line.

Love was impractical, irrelevant, and never spoke of in proper society.

They had thought themselves adults. Too old and set in their ancestral ways to be effected by outside influences.

Pansy and Draco sat sloshed in their Slytherin common room still dressed in their finery after the Yule ball.

They were alone because they had scared anyone nosing about off with their sharp tongues and sour moods.

Both undignified sat slouched against a large velvet green arm chair facing the other before the fire.

Draco's tie laid loose around his neck, the top four buttons of his robes undone to reveal a very muscular chest, his hair was ruffled, his eyes blood shot.

He peered though heavy eyelids at Pansy shooting her a fitting smirk. Pansy however was not paying her boyfriend any attention.

She sat unlady like, her left leg dangling over the arm rest shoeless, swaying back and forth. The yards of frilly bubble gum pink robes she wore bunched up around her knees. As her head was thrown back on the opposite arm rest, as she stared pensively at the ceiling, humming and playing with her hair.

Tonight had been the worst of Draco's life and all because the bane of his existence showed up on the arm of a notorious pureblood looking…looking like, well like the mud blood.

He had felt his world shift, fall and shatter at his feet shaking his whole existence to the core.

What right did she have to look like Granger standing next to and dancing with a wizard like Vickor Krum. He had befriended that ponce. Why was it okay for Krum to be able to openly admire, the one girl, Draco was forced to hate. The one girl, he only wanted to…No bad thoughts, Draco…

Merlin, He wanted to punch something.

Granger's face would feel pretty good right now. Driving his fist into that precious porcelain face, smashing and pounding away until no one dared to ever look at her again, to kiss her again.

He had saw that toad bend down and steal a kiss from those mud filled cherry lips…they probably tasted filthy filled with such lowly foul blood. The same blood that separated her from his world, the blood that defined why he was Granger's superior.

Her pulse most likely quickened in passion pumping her infoulity though her treacherous body, a body he wanted to watch crumple limp to the floor as the light slowly and painfully died in those wide muddy orbs.

Eyes that burned straight through his flesh and in to his soul every time she looked at him, eyes that saw everything, understood everything.

They judged everything.

He could see him self when he dared to look, which had only been twice.

Twice he looked into the mirror of truth; too much truth for a Malfoy, because that know-it-all bitch was the only one in the would that could read him just as easily as one of those tombs she carried around daily.

He hated her so much for everything she knew about him to be true, everything he wished so desperately he could be, and for everything he could never escape about him self. It was his own inwardly distorted image reflected so perfectly in those bright honey, shinning eyes.

Distorted…he scoffed in denial of his harsh thoughts.

He could never be distorted or ugly. Vanity beating his own ego down. It was Granger that was ugly, not him…not him.

He was royalty. She was less than common. He had moonlight hair and aristocratic features. She was ordinary plain, too brown and freckled.

And that main she calls a head of hair…he chuckled inwardly to himself until the dancing image of Granger in Krum's arms forced his mind back to previous ponderings. Tonight is was slicked back in a bun. Perfectly manicured every hair in place.

He had wanted to rip it all out, it was unnatural, not at all how it was suppose to look.

And her teeth the slightly noticeable over bite that she had corrected after Potty had ducked his hex weeks ago hitting her instead.

He had wanted to hex her tonight.

He looked over at Pansy still slouched and humming. Her make-up smeared across her face.

Granger had worn make-up tonight. Nasty stuff that gets in your cloths and tastes awful.

Yes, tonight was very much the worst of his life.

All because the mud blood decided to look like…well like Pansy.

He never wanted to see Granger dressed up like a pureblood again.

He needed the consistency of knowing without a shadow of doubt that there were still things that could remain untouched and unblemished by magic, things he still found beautiful with out falsity; And Hermione Granger was one of those things, not that he would ever admit to such blasphemy aloud.

"What are you thinking about, Draco?" Pansy asked swaying her foot back and forth while twisting a loose piece of hair between her fingers.

Draco shrugged not really wanting to share his minds eye out loud.

Pansy giggled looking over at that sour face of her intended. "I know what your thinking." She teased smirking foolishly as she batted her eyes.

He did not react, already knowing that out of anyone in his acquaintance, it was her that would know his thoughts.

"Not going to tell me? No? Very well." Pansy stated pulling her self up to fully face Draco her teasing smile fell from her face as her sapphire eyes darkened with intent.

"You were thinking how absolutely positively horrid your precious little mud blood looked all painted up like a glass doll." Pansy told him no question in her voice. She knew and he knew that she knew he knew. That was the point of her declaration.

Once more she smile, this time it was sly as she tilted her head to one side staring at him looking for any kind of reaction. He gave her none.

"I don't care." She told him and he knew she met it. "I don't want you either. I'm in lust with someone else. Not love mind you, never love."

Draco understood Pansy's rant.

It was something he had suspected for sometime but never voiced. After all he wanted Pansy to stay out of his slight obsession; he would at least do the same for her.

Still, the Weasley. He contained a shutter of repulsion.

"He was livid tonight. He loves her and more than platonic mind you. It will be beautiful when they are finally free of the Potter drama and able to recognize it.

I wonder how you will feel at their fairy tale wedding? Realizing the wasted years and insults. Will you go to the ceremony stand quietly in the back holding my hand, whishing you had the back bone to go against the grain of tradition.

Wishing you were him giving her your name, while I cry wishing I had his name instead of yours. What a twisted pair we will make." She scoffed at this point looking away from Draco's impassive face and into the fire. Watching in earnest as the flames licked at the logs, burning them to ashes.

After a lengthy pause she spoke again, this time with out looking at him, the sorrow in her voice apparent.

"I don't want your children, Draco. Well just fuck them up, like we are. Children should be loved unconditionally.

They shouldn't have to earn their keep like us, used for their parent's own personal agendas. Sold off like a prized mare for breeding." the bitterness Pansy spat in every word made Draco's eyes widen in surprise.

Then her face turned once more gentle so soft like she was remembering some thing with great relish.

'There is so many of them. So many and they are dirt poor, but still they manage. Still they are loved. I want to be loved. I want to learn how to love. I've seen it. I've seen it with them. Potter, your mu…Granger and Ron." She said the last name with so much longing Draco's throat constricted.

Draco had never said her name out loud and wondered if it too would sound so pathetic on his lips as that toe rags did on Pansy's.

Then Pansy turned back to him with tears in her eyes. "I want you to learn too, Draco. I want the same for you." it was the most sincere and honest confession he had ever heard.

He had never thought Pansy could ever show such humanity, but there in that instant he felt her in every way. Like a twin soul, a sister, a best friend. Because no matter how convenient it would be for him to feel something more, that was all Pansy could ever be to him.

Both too messed up for it to ever be more.

"Pans, it's getting late, my head is hurting with your blabbering, I think it's off to bed. You need some sobering up, so you can start thinking clear." Draco keep the bite out of his words as he stood and helped her to her feet.

He kissed her lips, nothing romantic or passionate, just part of the act. He braced her weight as he lead her to the stairs.

She hobbled along, holding her left shoe in her hand while the right remained on her foot.

"Good night, Draco." Her voice was low, he could feel the blush in it.

Draco took her face in his palms turning her to look at him. He knew she was embarrassed but so was he.

"I wish the same for you." He told her.

That being the only thing he was able to give. She smiled none the less realizing they were both too awkward and new at this to expect anything more. What he gave her was all he had to offer and so she took it readily.

"Some day. We will have it." She promised him. Draco felt the chill in his bones, Pansy didn't make promises she didn't deliver on.

"Someday." He too vowed. Letting her hobble up the stairs and to her dorm room. He stood at the base of the stairs waiting to hear her door open and close before he too headed off to bed.

*****

A/N: The intention is to make his a full story as soon as I finish Then There was you, but for now I think it can stand on it's own as a one shot. Hope you like it!