Those Wrong, Yet it's Right, Things

Chapter 3

All that is gold does not glitter; not all those that wander are lost.

~J.R.R. Tolkien

Pansy ran her tongue over her chapped lip and blew a piece of her hair that had come loose out of her face. Hate would be too simple of a word to use for the task she now had to do. Scrubbing the entire dungeons with nothing but soap, water, and a sponge was not the Monday evening Pansy had planned. Her fingers were raw and bursting open from all the water and soap and her knees shook so badly she feared at any minute she's collapse onto the soapy floor from her crouched position. Though she allowed a smile when she noticed the Wonder Boy wasn't fairing much better.

Harry struggled to keep his glasses up on his nose as he scrubbed fearlessly at a burn mark on the floor, probably the work of some rebel Slytherin. They'd been working in silence for nearly and hour and a half, she too furious and him too smug.

"Thanks for my first detention, Potter," she spat, finally breaking the silence. She let her sponge fall into her bucket carelessly and sat down on her knees.

"I'm actually surprised you haven't landed yourself one before now," he said, following her lead and taking a break as well.

"I never did anything to deserve one, not even today. I've always been quiet and unnoticed...until I stumbled upon you."

"Sorry, it appears I tend to drag people into the spotlight. You'll get over it eventually."

"I'm not your girlfriend, Granger, Potter. I'm a prefect, one more deserving then her."

Harry ignored Pansy labeling Hermione as his girlfriend. "More deserving? Nobody deserves it more then Hermione."

"She's always bending the rules for you and your stupid Weasel friend. Always got her nose stuck in a book instead of being aware of what's going on around her. Thinks the answer to saving the world lies in one of her precious books, eh?"

"For someone who lectures an awful lot about stereotypes you're becoming dangerously close to being a hypocrite." Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket and cleared away the scorch mark, pointedly ignoring Pansy's disapproving glance.

"You gain knowledge from experience, Potter, not books. Reciting Hogwarts, A History from cover to cover won't get you anywhere in this world."

Harry shook his head. What are the chances? In the middle of a bloody war I discover people really aren't who I expected them to be. Great.

"I think I've become delirious from all this work, Parkinson. I could've sworn you just said something intelligent."

"You'll never learn, will you?" Pansy willed herself to reach into the soapy bucket and pull out her sponge, starting on the scorches in the corner, willing herself to forget he was there.

"I did learn one thing today," Harry said suddenly. Pansy kept scrubbing. "Not everybody is as they appear to be. I only wish I knew what their reasons were for hiding."

"Look for the answer in yourself, then. Even I can tell you don't always want to act as you do." Pansy scrubbed harder.

"You never should've landed yourself a detention with me. Because you'll never live it down."

"Live what down, Potter?" she asked, furious that he blamed her for this detention. Pansy kept scrubbing.

"That even Pansy Parkinson, girl who has it all, might not have it all."

"How did you come to that festive conclusion?" Damn, this mark really won't come up.

"It's really not that hard. You stopped hanging all over Malfoy and you admitted to being unhappy."

"I did not!" Pansy kept scrubbing, fighting the urge to find his probably laughing eyes.

"You missed a spot," Harry said from over her shoulder. Pansy glanced up and glared at him before he walked out the door, finished with his half of the work.

"Oh bugger," she said frustrated, launching the sponge into the bucket and ridding the floor of the mark with a flick of her wand.