by prexus
summary: She will feign a proud smile and smirk bitterly at the younger ones who have not received their calling. And she will be jealous. (That's Pansy's view. This is a Draco and Pansy POV. No, it's not Draco/Pansy. It's a DP friendship/companionship fic, I suppose. This one-shot touches on the duties of a Slytherin once he or she turns sixteen. And they will wonder . they'll wonder.)
a/n: err .. very on the spot inspiration. It's not as well written as I would have liked it to be . =/ but , like I said , on the spot . plus, I just finished two sections worth of biology. (pouts) right. well, comments ? constructive criticism ? compliments, perhaps ? x_o
They're growing up too fast. But that's only what they think.
He's turning sixteen soon. A month, to be exact. Her birthday is two months and four days after his.
He's in deep thought now. He's always been one of those deep, dark, brooding types.
She's thinking too, thinking of where she'll be, where they'll be, once they both turn sixteen. Once they grow up.
She doesn't like it and she's thinking, he doesn't like it either. And she's right.
In a month, a letter will be sent to Hogwarts, asking for him to be withdrawn from school activities. And when he comes back, he won't be the same.
He was never the innocent, ignorant type. He knew. He knows what he will do after he turns sixteen. He knows that his mother will stay at home with those empty and unseeing eyes, as they slip out of the door. Father will say, We will be home later darling, leave the door uncharmed.
He doesn't want to think about it. But he does, because he has to.
Two months and four days after Draco gets his letter, she will receive hers.
She will be sitting at the long table, breakfast before her. But she will not eat it, because she can't. Her stomach turns uneasily.
Her eyes will be searching the ceiling for her owl as they swoop in one by one. And the letter will drop in front of her. Knowing, corrupted (and pitying, perhaps?) eyes will watch her as her shaky hands open the envelope.
She doesn't need to read the letter. But she does.
And when she is done, she will look up. She will feign a proud smile and smirk bitterly at the younger ones who have not received their calling.
And she will be jealous.
They are quietly thinking, still. The clock chimes midnight. But neither of them moves. They're on opposite ends of the large couch, and are rather apart.
But at the same time, they're quite close. Close, by two months and four days.
They have been friends since first year. And they will stay friends, even after they have both become corrupted. They'll be stained together, they decide.
Her hand reaches up to her left forearm unconsciously and massages it gently. He looks away. He doesn't want to think about it, but he does.
The fire is dying now. And they turn to each other, and their eyes lock in understanding.
She moves and her head is leaning against his shoulder. And it's rather rare.
And for the moment, they look like Potter and friends in front of a common room fire. Just for a moment.
They fall asleep. They dream of good things. But only for a short while.
The dreams will turn into nightmares, they both know.
And they wonder, they contemplate . and they dream, even if it's only for a short while.
FiN.