Comedy of Errors

"All right, now think about it rationally," said Hermione, pulling herself together, to the accompaniment of Parvati's dire mutterings. "It was either, and I know you're disgusted, you can relax your face already, Snape pretending to be Parvati and using Padma's name when you got caught, or it was one of his favorite Slytherins. It's quite possible that they fell prey to your... shall I say... considerable charms, and decided 'I shall get me some of that!'"

"Or one who would enjoy fucking up a perfectly good relationship," Lavender broke down again.

"Well that really narrows it down!" Hermione snapped. "Be sensible." Lavender was sensible.

"So what you're saying is that it could have been any Slytherin," she paused for a moment. "Except Blaise Zabini, who's had her nose stuck in a pornographic Muggle magazine for two years. If we'd been ripping each other's clothes off right in front of her, she wouldn't have even noticed there was anything going on."

"That magazine was jinxed," said Hermione reprovingly, "by Draco Malfoy."

"And you know this how?"

"I taught him to do it. Before Zabini's nose was stuck in a book, it was stuck in the air. She snubbed him, and she snubbed me. It only fit that she should get her share of justice. I made Malfoy beg, though. That was highly amusing."

"But that's not the point," said Lavender, hotly, as Hermione waxed nostalgic. "I'm trying to win back Parvati, here, not discuss your triumph over Malfoy, as funny as it is."

"Spoilsport."

"Does Harry know you're so evil when he's not looking?"

"It's our little secret, Lavender, dear. Everyone thinks Malfoy did it on his own, but I know he groveled for hours. As for Harry, none of this ever had anything to do with him. He's so bloody preoccupied with Ginny these days..."

"Jealous?"

"Oh, now who's evil? For your information, the only people I've been jealous of in a good long while are you and Parvati and your ability to potentially wake the dead!"

"You could join us, you know, when I get her back," purred Lavender, batting her eyes and taking a new tack. When Hermione's eyes widened, she grinned. "I knew there was a way to kindle your interest."

"Shut up, Lavender," Hermione murmured, grabbing the other girl and kissing her roughly. "Otherwise, I might just... ahem... require payment of a sort for access to my intellect."

"Oh! Hermione!" Lavender gasped, looking scandalized. Across the room, Parvati made a noise somewhere between a sob and a snicker. Her curtains quivered. "Now look what you've done."
"So you're two-timing my sister, now?" Parvati hissed. "How many other girls are you keeping?" And without waiting for an answer, she stormed theatrically from the dormitory, copious jewelry jingling viciously as she flounced. The door slammed behind her with an air of finality.

"Perhaps we should have kept the drapes open," Lavender suggested in a small voice.

"With you on top of me? Oh, that would have looked good."

"Sorry," the other girl muttered, extricating herself gingerly.

"Ah, no, the fault was mine," said Hermione distractedly. Then, a mischievous smile spread across her face.

"How do you propose we go about deducing which Slytherin is wreaking havoc? And why in God's name are you grinning?"

"I think it's time for me to pay Pansy Parkinson another call," said Hermione,whose smile now stretched ear to ear.

"What?!" Lavender looked absolutely revolted and drew back several inches away from her roommate.

"No, no. Not like that. She owes me one, seriously."

The pair of them looked at each other once, then ran down the steps, Hermione giggling and Lavender still perplexed. Parvati, who had been reading by the common room fire, dropped her book, Sex and the Single Seer, and scurried back into the dormitory. The door slammed even louder this time.

"Must've spooked her," whispered Hermione.

"Well spotted, genius."

Ignoring Lavender's biting tone, said genius approached the fireplace with the dignified air of someone about to perform an ancient ritual and awaken a sleeping god. Lavender just watched. A flick of Hermione's wand and an unintelligible muttering later, the flames swrled with green and violet sparks. Hermione grabbed Lavender and simply walked into them.

There was no violent jerk, no disorientation, simply blackness for a second, and then the gloomy Slytherin common room. Pansy Parkinson was sitting in one of the leather armchairs, attempting to write her essay for Transfiguration. As they walked out of the fireplace, she looked up and an enormous blot appeared on her parchment, obscuing half her efforts. She snarled when she recognized Hermione.

"What do you want, Mudblood?" she asked, her voice dangerously shrill.

"Manners, Parkinson." Hermione did a killer Malfoy impression, circling the Slytherin like a shark. From the girl's dormitories there came a thud, a yelp, and a storm of giggling. Blaise Zabini had obviously walked into a wall again.

"Very well," said Pansy, wearily. "What do you want, Granger?"

"Better. I'm here to call in that favor you owe me," replied Hermione with calculated coolness. One could almost hear Lavender's brain click into gear. Well, it was late, after all.

"I'm all ears," said Pansy, unconvincingly. She crumpled up the ruined parchment and threw it on the floor, where four others had fallen.

"Miss Brown's reputation was recently sullied beyond recognition by a member of your own house pretending to be Padma pretending to be Parvati Patil.

"What does this have to do with me?" Pansy growled, interrupting. She had been quite happy with Lavender's downfall herself. It took away the attention from her own problems. "And what makes you think it wasn't actually Padma?"

"Padma has an alibi. She was in the library," said Hermione. "You'd do well to listen and find out what this has to do with you. Now, only a Slytherin could convince Snape to open up his personal store cupboard, where the essential ingredients of a Polyjuice Potion are kept."

"How do you know what's in there?"

"Never you mind. I assume you know what a Polyjuice Potion is used for."

Pansy, who had been trying not to laugh for the past few sentences, lost control. "Bloody brilliant!" she hooted. Hermione narrowed her eyes and the other girl shut up.

"What I need to know from you is this. You're a prefect, so you should have this information. Who was missing from the dormitory last night? Oh, and whoever was responsible for this wasn't all that 'bloody brilliant.' You may have heard that they were discovered by Parvati, making use of her bed." Pansy hastily disguised her guffaw as a coughing fit at Hermione's warning glare. Lavender just stared at the pair of them. Who'd have thought that Hermione Granger would be able to stare down the Malignant Bitch of Slytherin?

"Fine,"Pansy shot back at her. "I can tell you right now. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were akk gone, as were Millicent Bulstrode and her cat. Professor Snape was in his chamber above the boys' dormitory. He snores loud enough to be heard down here."

"Thank you, Parkinson. But remember, not a word to anyone." Pansy snorted defiantly. "Not a word," Hermione repeated, "or I'll tell the appropriate authorities about your nights of debauchery last year, courtesy, if I recall correctly, of the Imperius Curse and several memory charms." Pansy went red in the face, then white, and finally settled on a particularly ugly shade of blotchy purple. "Good evening to you," said Hermione, not waiting for an answer. "Lavender?" And the pair were instantly transported through the fire into Gryffindor tower again, armed with the knowledge of their four suspects.

"You've got to know," said Hermione, cheerfully, "how to talk to Slytherins."