Delusion

Pansy looked at him, smiling. "Oh, yes, Monsieur Malfoy. I've asked your archenemy to the dance." He scowled.

"We've already established that fact, haven't we?" he said impatiently. He hated her so much. She was such a bitch. "And we've also established the fact that he would never go with you. Believe me Pansy, your charms wouldn't work."

She stared at him, silent for a few minutes. Draco looked at her, surprised. To not her hear constant nagging was a relief, but it definitely meant that something was up.

"A love potion would," she said softly enough that Draco had to strain his ears to hear her.

"Pansy, you're insane." He looked at her with contempt. Love potions were hard to make, they hadn't even started studying them in Potions yet. Even Granger...oh mother of God, here she was again in his head!...wasn't brainy enough to make them.

"No, I'm not."

"You're not smart enough to make a love potion." He stared at her, making sure his silver eyes glittered with anger. Enough to make her terrified of him.

"Draco," she said suddenly, her voice almost floating on the tension between them, "do you know who my sister is?"

Draco knew perfectly well who Pansy Parkinson's sister was. Paris Parkinson was drop dead gorgeous. She was a model in Witch's Weekly and made a shitload of money.

"What about her?" he asked edgily.

"You know Paris. Paris's is in the business. I mean, the coolest business ever. Paris can make love potions with a snap of her hand. She has two potion brewers, you know."

"You wouldn't," he said, staring her in the eye. Would she? Would she really go to such extreme lengths to snag Harry Potter? All because he was some guy she'd never slept with?

"Oh," she said softly, tracing her fingertips across his hand, which he quickly jerked away, "I would."

"I don't understand why, Pansy. I thought you hated him. He's in a different house, and I'm telling you. It's Potter. He's got morals. He wouldn't just sleep with some random wench."

Pansy didn't bat an eyelash. She didn't even seem to realize he had just insulted her. "Draco Malfoy," she said, just as breathily. Sounded awful. "You are the sexiest guy in our school, but Harry Potter...well, let's just say, he's close behind."

"So this is what you're saying: you want to get Harry Potter because he's hot? Well why are you trying so hard? There's more to it, Pansy. Spill."

"Why do you care so much?" she asked suddenly. Damn it. How was she smart enough to reverse the tables on him?

"Because," he said silkily, "I want to see how badly you fail. Potter will never sleep with you. Ever."

She looked him straight in the eye. "You're on, Draco. I bet you that I will. Give me a month and I'll have him begging for more."

"A bet?" he said, cocking up an eyebrow. He was rather good at this. "All right, Pansy. It's a bet. What're we betting for?"

"You." He stared at her, incredulous.

"What?" he asked, suddenly unsure of himself. He was never unsure of himself!

"Well, if I win, which I will, you'll be my boyfriend for the rest of the year." He scowled. But she wasn't going to win, if he had anything to do with it.

"And if I win?"

"Well, you won't. But decide what you want."

"If I win, you'll never bother me again. Not sexually, emotionally, nada. And...one hundred galleons."

"Deal. Bastard." She stalked off, looking smug.

******

Hermione sighed. Stupid dance. It was going to be so depressing if nobody asked her. Well, she could always go with Harry or Ron for backup. Just then, Ron came over. Hermione looked up at his towering figure. He was too tall for her, she realized. He was over a foot taller, her being 5'2 and him being 6'3.

"Hey Ron," she said, smiling.

"Hey...listen, um, I was wondering..." he broke off, suddenly looking away and looking pained. Hermione turned to what he was looking at.

He was looking at Harry, who was mouthing something to him. Suddenly Ron turned back to Hermione.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the dance."

"Well...we're expected to, Ron..." she said. Just then, Parvati came up and sidled up to Ron.

"Ron," Parvati said. "You want to go to the dance with me?" She said it so coolly, and so confidently, that Hermione was envious of her nature. Parvati was so self-assured, and why shouldn't she be? She was gorgeous.

Ron stared at Parvati for a few seconds before he answered. "Sure," he said.

"So, Ron?" Hermione cut in, "What were you saying?"

"I wasn't saying anything. Just wondering...who you were going with," he finished up, looking uneasy.

Hermione laughed. "Well, I'd ask you who you were going with, but I already know. If you must know, I'm not going with anyone as of yet."

She smiled, as genuinely as possible, when she said this, but in truth, she was really disappointed. The dance was three days away, and she hadn't been asked. Her new-found self-confidence was dangerously swaying. She had thought that by taming her bushy hair, by watching her weight---that guys would automatically be attracted to her. And, that had been true---even Malfoy had checked her out. But, she was realizing it wasn't just looks. What else did she have to change?

* * * *

Harry walked confidently over to Hermione, sighing. The dance was tomorrow and he hadn't asked anyone. He didn't really like any girl in the school at the moment, nothing more than friends at least.

"Hey, Hermione," he said. She was poring over Arithmancy.

"Hello, Harry," she said, as her brows furrowed in concentration. Harry marveled at this. How could she keep so absorbed in something so boring?

"I was wondering if you had a date to the dance tomorrow night," he said, plainly as possible. It was depressing really. She probably had a date; he was probably the only loser who didn't.

To his surprise, she sighed just as deeply. "No," she said, her pencil tracing absent-minded lines on the paper, "I don't."

"Well, I don't either," he told her. "Do you want to go together as friends? So we don't have to be seen stag?"

She laughed. "That's awesome, Harry. Yeah, definitely. And now, I have a question for you too."

"Shoot," he said, smiling. He was so relieved; it was great having a female friend.

"Want to come with me to the library?" He laughed, and they both walked down to the books.

* * * *

Draco watched as Potter and Granger walked into the library, chatting animatedly about something insignificant. He mused, looking at Potter. He hoped Potter had some willpower; he'd placed his bet on him. Pansy couldn't take him, could she? Just then, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Draco," someone whispered. He turned around, annoyed. He could recognize that voice anywhere.

"What is it, Pansy?"

"I can't contact Paris!" Smirking, he noticed the urgency in her voice.

"Really. Have you tried both France and Spain?"

"I've tried everywhere! I even asked mum, and she said that Paris's disappeared with her latest boyfriend and hasn't been seen for a month! Draco, the bet's off."

"Merlin, Pansy. Bets are bets. You're just going to have to do it without a love potion. Don't you think your...ravishing beauty...can handle that?" He smiled, his voice oozing with charisma. He definitely knew how to turn on the charm.

"Oh," she moaned. "Don't you worry, Dra-co. I am going to get him." He smirked as she walked with determination to where Potter and Granger were sitting, Potter flipping through a Quidditch magazine and Granger's honey brown eyes immersed in some book.

* * * *

Pansy Parkinson marched her sorry little arse towards the table. Hermione noticed and scowled deeply at her. She couldn't stand her; she was even openly rude, something she usually reserved for Malfoy. Pansy was the biggest slut, and all the girls gossiped tirelessly about her.

"What're you doing here, Pansy?" Hermione snapped.

"Shut it, Granger. I'm here to talk to Harry." Hermione's expression of hatred grew even more obvious.

Hermione watched with loathing as Harry swiveled so he could face her.

"What do you want?" Harry asked.

"Well, we've got a potions project, and I have some free time right now...do you think we could work on it?"

Hermione was disgusted. Pansy was leaning over the table, so Harry had a full glimpse of her cleavage, so easily visible from Pansy's low cut robes. What added to Hermione's disgust was that Harry was obviously looking down there. She closed her eyes, wishing that guys weren't so shallow.

"Um, well, I suppose?" he was saying now.

"Great. Let's go to Professor Snape's room." Pansy's voice was too breathy. What was Pansy doing, trying to seduce Harry? Why would she want Harry? As Hermione watched the two of them leave, her brain was teeming with questions. What she didn't know was that a boy with platinum blonde hair was watching her in the shadows.