He tells himself that she never happened and he just became the victim of Pansy's wily and brazen schemes.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this fic. Even the OC, who belongs to a friend. ;)
The blushing bride, the even-more blushing groom, the simple ring on her manicured finger- Draco Malfoy could puke. He runs his fingers through his white-blond hair, snarling at the mere sight of Mrs. Pansy Parkinson-Longbottom. He can already see his mother shaking her head at him in utter disappointment. She could have been yours, Draco, darling, an asset to the family, a chance to redeem yourself from the shame you have brought upon us. Keena!? I mean, honestly!
But Kya is gone and Pansy is glowing, beaming, sparkling like her jewels, bubbling like champagne. She is taking the lead in this instance, greeting the guests as Neville simply nods and smiles and laughs quietly, content to just hold onto his young wife's hand. She is a vision in white, her hair in an elegant with little black ringlets framing her face, a large smile taking over.
Draco has never seen her smile like that.
He might have been in love with her, once or twice, and he might be falling in love with her again, but he firmly pushes those nasty feelings to the side, remembering to be bitter and morose. Instead, he stands off to the side, swishing his drink around in his glass, recalling a time when they both drank champagne, feeling so mature and privileged at age fourteen- Slytherin King and Queen; the pureblood elite.
Pansy was different back then.
He tells himself that she left him for that squib, the Longbottom idiot; she was the one who fully abandoned the chance to become a Malfoy. He tells himself that Kya never happened and he just became the victim of Pansy's wily and brazen schemes. In Hogwarts, she was just his pug-faced princess, bitchy, catty and full of snark- who else would have a girlfriend like her? Draco does not realize his tendency to lie to himself as a form of comfort.
Pansy grew into her nose.
She's now gorgeous and he cannot deny this fact. Perhaps nice guys do finish first. He eyes Longbottom spitefully and sets his glass on a waiter's empty tray, accidentally catching Pansy's eyes. Draco freezes in his spot, ready to glare or to say something mean or run. He is overcome with an unfamiliar emotion - guilt, guilt for his family, for his mother, especially, and guilt for her. He loathes it, he loathes the feeling and he just wants it to go away. But an evil little voice in the back of his mind reminds him, "She could have been the one on your arm, Malfoy, you could have married her and all would be right in the world." He opens his mouth to speak, but the look in her brown eyes astonishes him.
She held such a difficult grudge against him in their later school years, Draco recalls, biting back a smirk. He feels something stir within him and he just nods in return.
'We're okay,' her eyes tell him.
A rare smile crosses Draco's pale, pale features.