Author: Jinni (email@example.com)
Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al. All things HP belong to JK Rowling, et al.
Distribution: The normal places.
Summary: "I had it all figured out. Marry Draco. Serve the Dark Lord. Live in decdent luxury, hating muggles and mudbloods. . .and then he showed up and changed everything."
I didn't want to be a good girl. Mother and father raised me better than that. Daddy didn't want a little darling to show off to his friends. He wanted a miniature copy of himself, female version of course. He wanted someone who could cast a curse with the best of them and poison his enemies.
He wanted. . .exactly what I became.
Don't get me wrong. I'm daddy's little princess. His little Slytherin Princess, that is.
Or. . .
Daddy hasn't spoken to me since The Night. The night that I chose to turn my back on everything I was ever taught and take up with the 'wrong side'. The 'losing side'.
The same side that Harry bloody Potter was on.
I had it all figured out. Marry Draco. Serve the Dark Lord. Live in decadent luxury, hating muggles and mudbloods. . .and then he showed up and changed everything.
Xander to his friends.
And he's a muggle.
Not a single ounce of magic in his entire body.
Ever hear of love at first sight? I didn't believe in it until I met him. When I touched his hand that first time, purely by accident as he came around to collect papers for our temporary DADA teacher, the Slayer; I felt something that was very much like magic. . . but not.
He makes me want to be a better person. He makes me want to change who I am to be near him. It's an intrusion into everything I've ever plotted and planned for; a kink in those carefully laid schemes.
It's almost an obsession. A compulsion inside of me that I can't, and don't want to, stop. Being near him makes me happy. Being apart from him makes me. . .
Not so happy.
My housemates have practically disowned me. Drakey won't even look my way anymore. I feel like almost as much of an outcast as one of those Weasley brats.
And still Daddy doesn't owl me. Princess or not, he's mad. I can't say that I blame him. His daughter, the pride of his life, is consorting with the enemy. Everyone knows that the Parkinsons are supporters of You-Know-Who, even if they don't dare accuse us to our faces. And here I am, playing with the 'Light'; making nice with one of the very people that have come to help get rid of my 'Lord'.
"Pansy. . ."
The school year is almost over, and the excuses he's been using, that he can't date a student, are almost through. I glance up through lowered lashes, and my heart skips a beat at the look on his face. He's so handsome. Dark hair, dark eyes. He's built like a Quidditch player, all muscle and brawn - but his comes from doing some sort of manual muggle labor that he tried to explain to me one time. Something about building things.
I didn't really pay attention. It's not like I really care about that world. No matter how hard I try, I just can't. But I'm getting better at acting like I do. And maybe one day it'll be natural. The acting will fade into reality.
"I can't do this."
He. . .
"Why? I thought --"
He shook his head, meeting my eyes again. This time there was sadness on his face.
"I can't make you be someone you're not, Pans. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let it go this long."
Pans. .. his nickname for me. Not even Drakey was allowed to give me a nickname. It was always Pansy or Parkinson, depending on his mood that day.
"You don't have to make me," I sigh, pleading silently for him to understand. "I want to do this. . . I want to change."
He nods, and for one second my hopes soar. That's right, accept what I say. I want to change and I want you to help me.
One second, that's all. One second of hope.
And then it falls again.
"I'm a muggle. My entire family is made up of muggles. All my friends, with the exception of Will, are muggles." He frowns. "And you were raised to hate muggles."
It's like a slap to the face, this rejection. It hurts deep inside my chest, where my heart once beat with such fierceness. Now there's just pain and loss. I had thought for sure. . .after all the talking we did. . .after those long nights spent just conversing. . .
And now this.
"I don't even get a chance." The words I speak are not a question. Just a mere statement of fact. He's not giving me a chance to make myself better. He's not willing to take that risk. Is it selfish of me to want him to do it anyway? Or selfish of him to be unwilling to try?
All I know is that its not fair. Not at all. Doesn't he understand? It's too late for me to go back. Too late for me to undo all the wrongs I've done to my family and housemates. My seventh year is about to end at this hell hole of a school and I have -nothing-!
"I didn't say that." He shrugs. "I still want to be your friend. I still want to talk and hang out, like I do with Will. But that's all I want for now. . .maybe one day."
Maybe one day. . .
It still feels like a rejection. And when he turns, walking away from me. . . things don't get any better.
I don't even realize the point at which pain becomes rage. Or when I yank my wand from the folds of my robe. When I point it at him, the unthinkable coming from my mouth, only then does it register what I'm doing.
And I don't care.
He'll love me one way or the other. It's better than nothing. Maybe Daddy will forgive me in the end, when I prove myself once again. I'll have to do alot of begging. Some pleading and some crying. If I put on a really good show he might even let me keep Xander as a pet somewhere in the dungeons where I can visit him a few times a week.
It's better than nothing.
Xander was right to doubt me.
I haven't changed.