Is It Ever Too Late To Say Sorry {DRARRY}

Pansy Parkinson

[Draco]

    Less than a few hours after he had sent his letter, Pansy sent one back, in which she agreed to go and mentioned that Saturday was a better option for her.

    When Draco arrived at the Three Broomsticks, Pansy was already there.

   "Evening, Draco." Her voice had matured over the summer, and it was frightening how much she sounded like her mother.

    He nodded, left his overcoat on the chair, then went to order. A few moments later, he was back with two Butterbeers in hand.

   "Thanks." Pansy smiled lightly, and again, the mother and daughter resemblance was astonishing. "Now, would you have the kindness to tell me what's bothering you so much? You look like you just went trough two hours of Crucio."

    Pansy and her straight-to-the-point manners, always cutting trough the unnecessary details, that was the only thing about her that didn't, and probably never would, change.

    Draco took another sip of his drink, taking a longer time than required to swallow.

    "We should talk."

    Pansy elegantly raised an eyebrow.

   "Isn't that exactly what we're doing?"

   "We should talk about the unavoidable subject that we will one day have to face." He paused, shutting his eyes. "And please, stop faking innocence."

    Pansy's mouth opened, then shut. Just as she was finally about to say something, a group of people walked in the pub.

    Without needing another glance, Draco recognized them: Ginny, Luna and Neville.

    As if they had communicated by telepathy, Pansy and Draco stood up abruptly at the exact same time.

    "Let's go for a walk." Draco said under his breath.

    Pansy nodded and they quietly walked out of the crowded pub, fleeing all the indiscreet ears.

Outside, the cold wind brushed against their cheeks, and the amber colored leaves fell like rain.

"Draco, tell me, what are your thoughts on the matter?" Pansy said vaguely while staring into space.

"Considering that the matter is about our conceptual marriage, I have a lot of thoughts."

"Well then let's start with a simple question. Do you love me?" Pansy said very solemnly, no trace of sarcasm on her neutral expression.

A humorless smile formed on Draco's lips.

"Seriously, Pansy? We both know this isn't about love."

"I know." She smiled bitterly. "But we have be clear of the situation we're in."  She buttoned up her jacket.

"To me, the situation is very clear: we have two choices; the first one is to marry each other; the second one is to not marry each other." Draco voice didn't have an ounce of romance. If you couldn't hear his words clearly, it sound more like a business talk rather than a marriage proposal.

This time, an authentic laugh escaped from Pansy's mouth.

"So, tell me if I'm wrong, but you like someone else, and you don't think your mother will like to hear about this person." Pansy said, emphasizing on her last word.

Seeing that Draco remained silent, she added, a knowing smirk dancing on her lips:
  "Tell me, Draco, should I refuse it the next time you offer a handshake?"

    It took a ridiculously short amount of time for Draco to understand the reference, and an even shorter amount for blush to rise upon his cheeks.

    "Touché." Pansy said, visibly pleased by her own sense of observation. "Oh don't worry, I'm not madly in love with you. Hope this makes things easier, does it?" Pansy rambled, but stopped when she realized that Draco's attention was on something else.

   She wasn't surprised when she saw a brunette walking with a ginger, and a bushy haired girl.