Game of Emotion

Hermione found Ron desolately playing a solo game of chess in the Gryffindor Common room the next morning. She had found out from Ginny at breakfast that he had not spoken to Harry since the previous day. Ron could be so stubborn.

"Ron." She said quietly, startling him out of his glum staring contest with the Chess set. "Can I talk to you?" She asked, seating herself on the couch.

Ron gave her a half-hearted glare, and pulled away from his chess game, moving over to sit across from Hermione. "So, talk." His tone was flat and emotionless.

The girl took a deep breath and looked at her friend steadily. "Do you want to tell me what went on yesterday, Ron?" Her head tilted to one side as she regarded him.

He gave her a steadier glare. "Why bother?" He asked carelessly. "I'm sure Harry probably already told you what happened. Why bother talking to me at all?"

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione exclaimed, frustrated. "I'm asking YOU because Harry told me what HE thought happened during your fight. I have absolutely no idea." She waved her hand violently to emphasize her point. "What you perceived. I'm not psychic, after all. BOTH of you have been wrong about things in the past, how am I to know who is right?"

"Sounds like you are trying to choose sides, Hermione." Ron said icily.

Hermione threw her hands up in the air in frustration. "For the last time!" She yelled. "What HAPPENED Ron?"

In a tight voice he explained. "They were being all couple-ish in Potions." He began.

"Coupleish?" Hermione interrupted.

"Touching and stuff, making eyes at each other, it was sickening." Ron's voice was hard and unyielding, and Hermione mentally rolled her eyes.

"Well, couldn't that just be because they were working together?" Hermione enquired, secretly delighted.

Ron folded his arms. "I thought so, but then I confronted Harry, and he said they were playing a game, and he wanted me to keep out of it!" Ron was furious now, eyes blazing and all. "A Slytherin, Hermione! And not just any Slytherin, but Pansy Parkinson." He seethed, fingers clenching into fists.

Hermione nervously fiddled with a bracelet on her wrist. "Well, if it was only the once," she began.

"It was NOT just the once Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "I found them in a stairwell late last night! Harry had her pressed up against a wall, what does he think he's doing? He's HARRY POTTER, enemy of You-Know-Who, and yet there he is cavorting around with the children of Death Eaters!" He took a deep breath before continuing to rant. "Did I not know him at all?!" Ron stood up, and began to pace, ranting as he went.

After a while, Hermione began to get annoyed. "Ron," she said in what she hoped was a placating fashion. "I'm sure it was nothing, and he will forgi..."

"Maybe I don't WANT his forgiveness!" Ron said hotly. "Maybe I wonder why we were ever friends. Maybe I never want to be under the shadow of the great Harry Potter ever again!" He stomped his foot, and Hermione had to hold back her amusement. He looked like a young child having a tantrum. "And it should be HIM wanting my forgiveness, not the other way around. I'M not the one running around with a skanky Slytherin."

Hermione's patience snapped. "Don't talk about anyone like that, not even Pansy." This proved to be a tactical error, as Ron rounded on her.

"Oh, NOW I see!" His glare intensified. "You didn't come here to get my side of the story at all! YOU are Slytherin mad as well! You just came so you could justify your actions to yourself!" Ron sank his fingers into a cushion. "It's all Malfoy's fault! He has clouded your judgement. What, I suppose you're fucking him? Well then it..."

For the second time in twenty-four hours, Ron found himself being slapped. Although Hermione's hurt a lot more, and was a lot more furious. "Ronald Weasley!" She thundered. "I have never ever been in a relationship anything more than in a professional or enemy capacity with Draco Malfoy! Nor will I probably ever. After all I've done for you, tutored you, helped you with things. You, you... ungrateful swine!" She jumped up off the couch, and continued to vent.

"How many times did we fight? I felt so loved when I found out that I, me of all people, was less important to you then a stupid smelly rat who turned out to be a traitor, back in third year. And nothing much has changed, has it? I'm still less important to you then I should be! Well I have had it! No more!" She picked up her bag, and marched across to a blank space of wall on the other side of the room.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" Ron asked, somewhat baffled through his anger.

"Going back to my room! I will waste no more time on you. Hogwarts can find another 'Dream Team', this friendship is over." She pulled out her wand, and tapped it on the wall.

Back inside Hermione's bedroom, the portrait opened, until Hermione herself was visible on the other side. Hermione sprang through the hole in the wall, and slammed it shut on Ron's surprised and red face.

Ron's anger drained away, and he tried vainly to open the 'door' which Hermione had stormed through, with his wand.

"Someone is trying to get through, dear." The portrait of the pretty blond Goddess in white said to Hermione. "Shall I let him in?"

Hermione spun around. "No Selene." She said, taking deep breaths to calm herself. "Let in no one but me through that way. If someone wants to talk to me so badly, they can damn well walk. I am not in the mood."

*

Draco was annoyed. Someone was persistently pounding on the wall, and Hermione was not answering it. With a sigh he stood up and walked across to the portrait and opened it.

He was even less amused when the open portrait revealed Harry Potter.

"What, Potter?" He growled, taking out his annoyance on the boy before him.

"Can I see Hermione?" Harry asked, trying to push past Draco and into the Common Room. "Is she here?"

Draco blocked his way. "I'll ask if she wants to see you. Wait here." With that, Draco slammed the painting shut in the other boy's face. With a slight smirk he crossed the room and tapped on Hermione's bedroom door.

Inside the room, Hermione sat up on her bed. "What do you want Malfoy?" She called out, voice still slightly husky from her previous anger. Not that she was over it, but to some extent she was repressing it.

Draco sighed and pushed the door open. Leaning against the doorway, he folded his arms. "Potter's at the door. Do you want to see him, or should I tell him to leave?"

Oh how things had changed. Time was he wouldn't have asked her, and just refused Harry entry. Hermione let out a sigh before answering. "Let Harry in please." She said, smoothing her hair. "We need to talk."

Draco left the room, and opened the painting again. Harry was still leaning against the wall outside, but stood up straight when the portrait opened. "Granger wants to see you." He said shortly, gesturing impatiently for Harry to walk into the room. Draco closed the picture behind him, and stalked off to his own bedroom again. Blech. Not even ten AM, and already his morning had been ruined by Potter. Draco threw himself back onto his bed, not wanting to finish his letter to his Mother at present. He'd do it later, right now he was suddenly overcome with weariness.

All he needed... was some... sleep... Draco drifted off into a land of dreams.. or more accurately, of nightmares.

Someone else was having a rather miserable morning.

Pansy Parkinson had had a remarkably restless sleep the previous night. Unfortunately, she was plagued by dreams of a boy with messy black hair and green eyes. Bastard, wasn't it bad enough that she had to see him during the day, without seeing him in her dreams as well? She sat desolately at the almost deserted Slytherin table, picking at a piece of toast disinterestedly. And now, her breakfast had gone cold while she was thinking about him. Stupid Harry Potter.

A shadow fell across her, and she looked up, hoping it was not the boy who accosted her mind.

It wasn't.

The flushed red face of Ronald Weasley clashed badly with his hair. "Pansy Parkinson." He snarled. "Well, I hope you're happy. Turning Harry and Hermione against me! I don't know how you did it, but..."

Pansy's eyes narrowed. "Don't blame me for your ability to alienate your friends." She hissed dangerously, eyes flashing. "And why would I need to turn them against you? You seem to do a pretty good job of that yourself, Weasel."

Never one for tact, Ron leant towards her. "I do NOT! I've done nothing wrong, this is all the fault of you Slytherins!"

"Our fault, is it?" Pansy asked with deceptive calm. "So, the fact that it's never your fault when something goes wrong. That you always pass the blame and jump to conclusions has absolutely nothing to do with why your best friends are not speaking to you? Honestly!" She let out a short barking laugh. "Are you so blind? What do you have to gain by coming over here and verbally abusing me?"

Ron scowled, and opened his mouth to rant again.

"Ron!" The call sounded out across the hall. Pansy and Ron looked up from their arguement, only to see Ginny advancing towards them with a grim look on her pretty face.

"What, Ginny?" The boy asked, with some irritation.

Ginny's grim look intensified. "What do you think you are doing?" She asked, voice calm and deadly. "I heard about you not being friends with Hermione or Harry anymore, and I want to know why you're causing a scene AGAIN. Why are you yelling at Pansy Parkinson? Ooh, why are you even talking to her? You hate Slytherins." Ginny folded her arms, and took a 'tell me what I want to know, and tell me now!' stance, legs braced apart.

"Yes I do, and Harry and I aren't friends anymore, because she.." he pointed at Pansy. "Stole him from me. Hermione isn't because she took Harry's word over mine. And how do you know this anyway? No one was in the Common Room when we fought this morning."

Ginny gave him a sceptical look. "No wonder you and Harry aren't friends anymore if you think he's a possession that was stolen." She said archly. "And Hermione? I honestly do not blame her at all. You've treated her awfully since your first year, and knowing you, you probably had just said something really offensive when she said she no longer wanted to be friends with you." She relaxed her stance and unfolded her arms. "And Parvati was walking down the stairs, just in time to catch your argument. Soon, the whole school will know." She turned to the older girl. "Please accept my apologies for my brother's behaviour." She said.

Ron opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no sound came out. He was speechless. When had his little sister become so... bitchy?

Ignoring Ron, Pansy shrugged. "Fine." She said flatly, rather surprised at the other girl's outburst.

Ginny nodded, and stormed off, presumably to find Harry and Hermione, and find out if what really happened was better or worse than the rumours.

Ron regained his voice and rounded on Pansy. "And now you're turning my own sister against me! I.."

"MISTER WEASLEY!" Professor McGonogall's voice cut through his rants like a knife.

Ron looked up with some trepidation, at Professor McGonogalls coldly furious face.

"What do you think you are doing, yelling like that? Come and speak to me in my office, right now." Her tone was one not to be disobeyed.

Reluctantly, Ron stood and followed his Head of House, as she swept out of the room. Oh, he would get his revenge on Pansy Parkinson later, or his name was not Ronald Weasley.

Now even less hungry, Pansy pushed her toast aside, and rested her head on her hand.

Surely her morning could not get any worse.

"Good morning Pansy." The familiar male voice made her look up.. straight into the eyes of Harry Potter.

Speak of the devil.

*

Leaving the Common Room of the Head Boy and Girl after a long and complex conversation with Hermione, Harry suddenly found himself ravenous. Maybe he could just stop in the Great Hall before it was all taken away... Decision made, Harry took another corridor, and passed a sullen Ron being led away by an angry looking McGonogall. Normally this would have made him pause, but as he was no longer on speaking terms with Ron, he just continued on his way.

Walking into the nearly deserted Great Hall, Harry was about to walk over to the Gryffindor table, when he noticed a familiar slumped figure on the opposite side of the hall. Not being able to resist, Harry sauntered over to her. "Good morning Pansy." He said cheerily.

Slowly, she looked up into his eyes. "Speak of the devil." She whispered. "What? Are you here to attack me as well?"

Harry felt his eyebrows shoot into his hair. "Attack you?" Okay, now the Hero was confused. Of course, he usually was, but that was not the point. "Why on Earth would I do that?"

Pansy laughed bitterly. "It's what your red headed compatriot was just taken away to be reprimanded for." She said, tilting her head to one side. "Babbled about how I'd stolen you and Granger away from him. Wouldn't shut up until his sister came over and ranted at him."

Harry's jaw dropped slightly. "Well" he said eventually, "that was unexpected." Shaking himself out of his shocked state, he stole a piece of fruit of the table and winked at her. "I'll see you around Pansy." He said, mood changing abruptly. "I have things to do before lunch." With a smirk, he leant across the table, and gave her a quick hard kiss on the lips. She refused to respond. He frowned and pulled away.

With a smirk of her own, Pansy walked, no, glided around to the other side of the table, and kissed him, hard and long. Harry couldn't hold back a moan as her tongue worked between his lips, brushing over his teeth. He tangled a hand in her hair. A few moments later, she pulled away, a triumphant look in her eyes. "See you around, Potter." She said, stepping back from him and turning her back on him. Pansy made her way to the doors, hips swinging enticingly, and she looked back at him.

Harry was shocked. He had not expected that at all! His face settling into an impassive mask, he was annoyed when she turned around and blew him a kiss, an impish smile on her face.

No, that had not just happened. He was not going to lose to Pansy.

Setting his jaw, the Gryffindor boy left the Hall himself. Two could play at that game.

*

Hermione sat in the Gryffindor Common Room talking to Seamus, when her attention was caught by a very excited conversation that was happening a few meters away. Lavender and Parvati were talking to some sixth years they were friends with. About... Ron?

Lavender grinned for a moment, before leaning forward conspiratorially towards her friends. "You'll never guess. I was just finishing my breakfast in the Great Hall, after watching Ron get hauled off by Professor McGonogall for yelling at Pansy Parkinson, when Harry walks in and stands by the Slytherin tables, talking to Pansy. He swipes a piece of fruit, then leans over and kisses her. And that's not all. Then, she walks around the table, and snogs him!"

Hermione's eyes widened in shock, but she did not turn around.

"They were kissing in the Great Hall?" A sixth year asked incredulously.

"I know!" Parvati said. "I couldn't believe it when Lavvie told me first either, but isn't it interesting?" She sighed. "It's so romantic."

The group of girls broke into giggles, and Hermione dazedly excused herself from her own conversation, and went back to her room.

She had not been inside long when Draco walked into the room, stretching. He had not been able to sleep very long, due to bad dreams. "So," he began. "Potter and Pansy are evening the playing field?"

Hermione looked at him aghast. "How did you know?" She practically screeched.

Draco looked back at her patiently. "Blaise Zabini," he said "she was waiting in the hall to tell someone. I was the next person to walk by." He indugled in a smirk before winking at her.

Hermione threw her hands up in the air. "I just don't get you, Draco Malfoy." She said huffily, a slight pout forming on her lips.

"You're not meant to, Granger." Draco said with a faint leer. He turned and strode out of the room, going to sit on one of the couches. What was wrong with him? He hadn't insulted Granger for days! He wouldn't... no, he couldn't have any feelings for her.

Bloody Hell, one Slytherin/Gryffindor relationship was bad enough. AND he was not going to sully his family name entering into one.

With that thought firmly in mind, Draco lay down on the couch, and pulled the blanket off the top and onto him. Maybe he'd be able to get some sleep now.