Observations

People often perceived Pansy as little threat, because she was generally quiet. She walked around Hogwarts with the air of well-bred manners and sophistication; her short glossy hair tucked behind her ears, her robes always pristine. They would be right in thinking that Pansy was a snob who cared greatly about her appearance, but they would be seriously mistaken in thinking that was the sum of her personality.

Pansy watched people like a hawk, her small eyes drinking in every detail. She was perhaps the most dangerous of the Slytherins because she knew everyone's secrets. While Draco spent most of his time picking fights with Potter, Pansy would lurk behind him and watch the body language that was being presented before her. She knew things about people that they didn't even know about themselves.

Pansy knew that as well as being his best friend, Ronald Weasley had the potential of being Potter's worst enemy. She caught the flicker of jealousy that lit up Weasley's eyes each and every time Potter achieved yet another seemingly impossible victory. She noticed the shame rise up in his cheeks when Harry carelessly flashed his galleons around during excursions to Hogsmeade. She paid attention to the way Weasley scooted closer to Granger when she shared an intimate joke with The Boy Who Lived, subconsciously marking his territory over the bushy-haired little witch.

Pansy knew about Granger's insecurities. She observed the almost obsessive manner in which she had examined her appearance in the girl's bathroom during a break from dancing at the Yule Ball in their fourth year. Pansy knew that Granger worried over her appearance most of all. Pansy knew that Granger fancied Ron something rotten. She even knew that her brief interlude with Viktor Krum was in part to make Weasley jealous. She doubted that Granger admitted that even to herself.

Pansy also knew that Potter struggled to keep his emotions in check. She saw the sadness smear briefly across his face every time his friends received packages and letters from their parents. She carefully watched as he made weak excuses to leave the Great Hall and walk around the lake, his hands burrowed deep into his pockets, and his head pointed towards the ground.

Pansy liked to watch Draco and Harry interacting, best of all. Draco liked to brag that he knew all of Potter's weakness, and could press any of his buttons and be sure of a specific reaction, but he didn't know Potter's biggest weakness. He had skimmed over what was to her, the most obvious thing of all: his desire to love. It was this observation that allowed her to pick up on the subtle change in the air whenever Draco and Potter got into a fight.

Since their arrival back in the sixth year, something had changed, and it had taken Pansy all of three days to figure it out. Standing back, with her arms folding across her chest, she studied Potter as Draco invaded his personal space to prod him in the chest with a long finger. She cocked her head to one side with interest as flames alighted across Potter's cheekbones and he staggered back as if Draco's touch held bludger-force. She picked up on the change of octave in his voice as he told Draco to back off.

Later the same evening, she glanced over at the Gryffindor table, her spoon pausing on it's journey towards her mouth, as she noticed who Potter was watching. His eyes were flitting back and forth between his plate and the Slytherin table, where Draco held court. He even had to be roused from wherever the appearance of Draco had taken his mind to; the Mudblood and the Weasel having to practically scream in his ear before he paid attention.

Of course, Draco was blissfully unaware of this new attention, continuing on his own little merry way as he lorded it over anyone weak or stupid enough to bow down to his air of superiority. He continued to stalk through the halls with his head held high, looking out for unsuspecting first years he could bully into handing over their sweets.

Pansy twirled her quill in her fingers, her homework abandoned in favour of toying with the idea of setting up a situation where Draco would be forced to see how Potter really felt about him. Pansy knew Draco, and she knew there was no way he would ever willingly march up to Potter and lay their bitter rivalry to rest in favour of games of a more satisfying nature. He would have to be tempted; appealing to either his vanity or his innate sense of self preservation would be the only way.

Pansy shoved back her chair and stood up, collecting her books. Perhaps it was time to find Draco and start the ball rolling. As she walked down the corridor, back down to the dungeons, she mused over the idea. She loved Draco, perhaps even more than her own family. But then, Draco had become almost part of her family; like a brother to her. They had always looked out for each other, from the first day at the Wizarding Nursery where that stupid little Mudblood girl pulled Pansy's hair and made her cry, and through her tears she looked up to see a blonde ball of fury launch himself at the child and pummel his tiny fists into her stomach.

It was love at first sight, and since then Pansy made it her business to see that Draco was happy. If Harry Potter was the most likely source of said happiness, then so be it. As Pansy turned the corner near the Potions classroom, a tiny flash of silver caught her eye, and on instinct she moved towards the direction of the source.

Peering quietly through the keyhole of an abandoned classroom, Pansy inhaled sharply. Glimpses of ebony curled in long, elegant seeker fingers, snatches of pink mouths joining and parting, and tongues...lapping, flicking over gums, eyes dark with lust, skin sliding on skin, moans breathed into shoulderblades, bitten off groans smothered by clever lips...

Pansy blinked and straightened up, adjusting the collar on her robes. She paused for a moment before moving away from the door and back down the corridor towards the Slytherin common room. Despite all of her observations, the time she spent watching instead of doing, listening instead of speaking, she didn't know everything. While she had been looking around, eager to know the gossip of everyone else, she failed to notice the person who was most important to her, and the person who was most important to him.

With a sudden burst of speed, Pansy ran the rest of the way to the common room, breathlessly gasping out the password and rushing inside, calling out for Blaise as she entered. Perhaps it was time to start living.