This is my response to day 12 of Siriusly Smart's iPod challenge and the Daily Prompts from the Mods. Recently I've been enjoying both Draco/Astoria and Draco/Pansy, so I decided to try mixing them.

OoOoO

"You say Y-E-S to everything.

Will that guarantee you a win?"

-Marina & the Diamonds, 'Mowgli's Road'

Ever since they had started at Hogwarts, become the boy and girl who comprised the Slytherin It couple of their year, Pansy Parkinson had assumed that she had an unbreakable hold on Draco Malfoy. She had been by his side throughout their time at Hogwarts, and it was one of those inevitable things that they would end up together. She had always done her best to make Draco happy, and if he didn't appreciate her efforts, then Pansy would simply grit her teeth, smile and consider how very, very lucky she was to be with him, to hold his hand, to have him stroke her hair, to share those precious kisses.

However, as they had grown older, it had not simply been a case of happily-ever-after. The first few years of their relationship had passed easily enough, without any major quarrels or difficulties, and they had become so close – Draco and Pansy – that somewhere around the start of their last year, she had ceased to consider the possibility that there could be anyone else for either of them. Graduation loomed, and it was highly likely that engagement would follow, so the possibility of anything else happening had slowly disappeared from Pansy's mind.

She had forgotten to be vigilant, and therein lay her mistake.

Pursing her lips, Pansy turned away from the fireplace. Draco hadn't said or done anything to let her know that the landscape was changing, but things were now so different that she had been torn from her dreams of the future and into a present that was becoming increasingly incompatible. She looked at him intently, wondering if behind those beautiful, grey eyes there was an understanding of what was happening to them. When she had first realised, Pansy had been shaken.

"Draco, are you listening to me?" Pansy swiped his arm playfully, slumping back against the wall. She ignored the fifth years filing out of the Potions classroom, having eyes only for Draco. "I think that we should eat dinner at my house on Christmas Eve and yours on Christmas day, because..."

Her boyfriend was anticipating their holiday as eagerly as she was, and yet Draco was clearly not aware that she was still speaking. Pansy pushed herself away from the wall and followed the line of his sight, peeling her eyes from his handsome profile. A small cluster of Slytherins were heading along the corridor. Although Pansy recognised each of them in a vague way, there was nothing to distinguish one from the other. He wasn't looking at anything.

"Draco?" She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the classroom.

"What?" He gave Pansy a subtle smile, and she forgave him for his lapse in attention.

Not only did Pansy forgive; she forgot about the whole incident. It didn't enter her thoughts again until she realised that these moments were becoming increasingly common. Although it had taken her longer than she would have liked, Pansy also managed to work out their cause.

"...and so I'm going home for Christmas; someone has to console her after her husband died. It's so unfortunate – they were only together for a couple of months. I didn't even meet him." Blaise's sarcastic speech made her laugh. Pansy never could bring herself to ask how Mrs Zabini's husbands all met such suspicious ends. She turned towards Draco to see if he would do it for her. He was oblivious to all, not even giving his knowing smirk.

He was staring at the gang of fifth years sat by the window. One of them stood – Daphne's little sister. Pansy couldn't remember her name – and headed for the stairs that led down to the girls' dormitories, giving a dainty little wave over her shoulder before vanishing around the corner.

Draco's eyes were fixed on the point at which she had disappeared from view, a foolish grin around his mouth. Her foolish grin.

Since then, Pansy had focussed on working out what it was that made Daphne's little sister so different from any other girl. Pansy had discovered, through some subtle probing, that she was called Astoria. Astoria. She had then listened to the girl's conversations at dinner, gleaning that Astoria was not the most cunning of Slytherins, although she did have a frustrating aptitude for making others laugh. She had watched the girl living her life and determined that Astoria lacked her poise and sophistication, although Pansy had to concede that she did have a kind of elfin prettiness in her face.

Astoria excelled at Charms, didn't like the Whomping Willow, wore her hair in a pageboy bob and spent her free time reading when she wasn't talking with her friends. She wore knee-high socks and was a fan of the Holyhead Harpies. But there was nothing glorious about her. Astoria wasn't a refined beauty like Pansy. She wasn't a useful ally. She wasn't anything exceptional, so why would Draco want Astoria?

"Draco, let's go now." Pansy whispered in his ear in a way that had always excited him, her voice low and sultry. "I've convinced all of the other Prefects to turn a blind eye, so we have the bathroom all to ourselves."

"Maybe tomorrow." Draco stretched languidly, unaware of his words had affected Pansy. Not so long ago he had stared at her adoringly, and would have jumped at such a chance. Her eyes widened in a blend of hurt and shock.

Astoria Greengrass sat by the window, absorbed in her book. She tucked her hair behind her ear, unaware that she was ripping Pansy's life apart.

If she was losing Draco to someone truly brilliant, then perhaps Pansy could at least understand what was happening. Instead, he was consumed by thoughts of the plain little sister of a girl on the outer fringes of popularity. It made no sense. Pansy was gorgeous, slim, dark and sultry. She had the same ambition and drive that made Draco want more from life. They were the ideal match.

It drove Pansy mad. She couldn't sleep thinking about it, the way that despite her best efforts she was losing the man of her dreams to an average young girl. Once upon a time, Draco would have noticed the shadows underneath her eyes, and suggested with a hint of a leer that she go to bed earlier.

Pansy looked at herself in the mirror. She was so, so lovely. Her skin was smooth, her hair thick and dark, her cheekbones high. There was no girl whose beauty had the same element of danger. Why didn't Draco want her anymore? Pansy's reflection blurred as angry tears filled her eyes. It was more than she could bear. Pansy stormed down the stairs and out of the common room, her hair fanning out behind her. There had to be something about Astoria.

Draco had said that he was heading to the quidditch pitch for some casual practice. Doubtlessly Astoria and her crowd of friends had announced some kind of plan to go outside and Draco had followed. The wind dried the tears on Pansy's face, for which she was glad. She approached the pitch, and sure enough the now-familiar group of fifth years were sitting on the ground, occasionally calling at the members of the team.

Spotting Tracey, Pansy sauntered over to a girl she could consider discreet, if not a friend, as such. She waved in response to the various shouts of greeting, joining Tracey on the more dignified option of a bench.

"Parkinson." Tracey nodded, not taking her eyes from the quidditch team.

"Davis."

They sat in silence. Pansy observed the scene before her and did not ask what Tracey was looking for. Astoria laughed at something her friend had said, the lilting sound carried over by the breeze. Draco's head turned ever so slightly – so small a gesture that she would not have picked up on it had she not been looking for such behaviour – and he missed the snitch flying past him. Pansy wanted to scream. Daphne approached and sat on her other side. Considering the elder Greengrass' relation to Astoria, Pansy took especial care to hide her emotions behind a mask of urbane boredom.

"She doesn't know that she's doing it." Daphne kept her eyes straight ahead, back ramrod straight. Perhaps the lack of ability to display stoicism was hereditary.

Then it was definitely over. Other people had noticed. Draco would leave her. Pansy swallowed. She stood, making a beeline for the girl, for Astoria, and her hidden mystique.

"Greengrass, may I have I word?" It wasn't voiced as a request. The fifth years fell silent, in awe on an infamous older student. It was a de facto part of Slytherin protocol that when someone higher up in the same house made such a request, it was obeyed. Sure enough, Astoria got to her feet and wiped the blades of grass from her hair. Pansy had great difficulty not sneering.

She led the way into the nearest stand, not looking back to check that Astoria was following. She climbed the first flight of stairs and did not turn around, listening to the scuffling steps that confirmed Draco's new paramour was close behind. From behind Pansy knew that she cut a particularly imposing figure, regal like her mother.

"Parkinson?" There was genuine curiosity in Astoria's voice. Her naïveté made Pansy want to be sick. "What can I do for you?"

"Tell me what it is." Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and Pansy could make out the grain of the wood. She turned on Astoria in one fluid motion, sorely tempted to push her down the stairs.

"What? I don't understand." Astoria gave a slight giggle, eyes bright and warm. She didn't realise how much resentment coursed through Pansy's veins. She couldn't fathom the depth of Pansy's hatred of her, and if she lived a dozen lifetimes she never would.

That delicate prettiness in Astoria was never more obvious than when she saw the world through rose tinted glasses. The girl was one of a kind; an innocent Slytherin. Through thick and thin, after he took the mark, after Dumbledore was killed, when his father had been put in prison, it was Pansy who had held Draco's hand in the darkness, listened to him and given advice that was full of realism.

But her worldly words and relentless cynicism were not what Draco wanted, as their reality became harsher and the war drew closer.

He wanted light-hearted, Astoria, who could see the best in the world and lie to him without realising.

Pansy laughed without amusement. She clenched her fists and laughed.

"That's all I wanted to know, Greengrass." Pansy remained quiet, waiting for the dismissal to register. Astoria looked at her uncertainly before running down the stairs. She paused in the doorway, her face partly illuminated by the sunlight, and gave an awkward smile before heading out into the daylight.

Pansy touched her face. It was wet. She would wait until she was cold and distant once more and head back outside to be Pansy Parkinson, the clever young woman in search of a new future. She could have any, bar one.

OoOoO

Thanks for reading. Please review.