Forgivable Expectations

Forgivable Expectations

Chapter 1: Unbidden Hopes

Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends-- The Sorting Hat in Sorcerer's Stone.

"Men will always be mad and those who think they can cure them are the maddest of all."-- Voltaire.

Memo to Self: Get New Friends.

Pansy stared down at the note that she had just jotted down. Words of wisdom if she'd ever heard any.

Nodding to herself, she stuffed the slip of paper into her pocket, along with all of the other strips of parchment that had built up over the course of the day.

"Ugh. What is she wearing?" Alyssa Nott scoffed.

Pansy sighed and went back to listening absently as her friends berated anyone and everyone who made the mistake of coming too close, or had the misfortune of crossing one of their minds.

The current target: Hannah Abbott.

"Can you believe that she still wears her hair like that?" Blaise Zabini sneered. "It was bad enough during first year, but it's downright pathetic for a seventh year to wear pigtails."

They all nodded their heads in automatic agreement, and Blaise sat back in satisfaction.

Pansy held back a yawn, and pretended to study her nails. This was an all too familiar routine. "Yeah, and her teeth are almost as bad as Granger's used to be," she contributed, hoping that this comment would be enough to allow her to remain silent throughout the rest of this meeting of Slytherin's queen bitches.

She really had no idea what kind of teeth the unfortunate Abbott had, but it hardly mattered.

As if to prove her point, the girls all nodded, again, in unison.

"Have you seen the way that she drools over Justin Finch-Fletchley?"Alyssa added. "It's disgusting."

More nods.

"Didn't you use to have a thing for him?" Raquel Briggs asked in a syrupy voice, the question directed at Millicent Bulstrode, who instantly turned pink.

"No!" she protested.

"So you didn't write him that revolting poem in fifth year?" Raquel asked mockingly.

Ah, not that damned poem again.

Pansy shook her head and began assorting her dinner into a landscape. Hannah Abbott was already forgotten in favor of more immediate prey. It hadn't taken long for them to start turning on each other. Pretty soon Pansy was going to have to start coming to meals armed.

Millicent began to fiddle with her skirt, looking both guilty and mortified. "Poem?" she said faintly, failing to sound innocent.

Raquel shook her head in disgust. "Yes, that's right. Poem. If I recall correctly, Finch-Fletchley showed it to his entire Hufflepuff year. They all got a good laugh in at it, didn't they?"

Genuine distress became evident on Millicent's face at the reminder of her great humiliation. For a moment, Pansy worried that the girl was actually going to cry in front of them. She hoped that Millicent wouldn't hand over such damning ammo to her friends. Raquel would never leave her alone if Millicent broke down now.

Raquel chuckled darkly, looking quite amused. "Why don't you quote us a line, Bulstrode? Come on. How did it go? Your brown eyes are like the richest chocolates..." Raquel laughed cruelly.

Pansy had always been fascinated by the way that her fellow Slytherins always reverted to calling each other by their last names whenever they were tearing into each other. She was rather curious to know if the members of the other houses had similar patterns like theirs, or if it was an idiosyncrasy belonging only to them.

Millicent sent a pleading look around at the other girls, which was ignored. Pansy kept her eyes downcast. The girl really should have known better by now.

Realizing that she was on her own, Millicent tried her best to defend herself. "I didn't..." she tried again.

"Didn't what?" Alyssa chimed in, selecting a large piece of chocolate cake for herself. "Didn't expect him to show his girlfriend? Honestly. You're pathetic, Bulstrode."

Okay, enough was enough. Picking on Millicent was unwarranted to begin with, but two-on-one was just unfair.

"I didn't write that poem," Millicent grumbled, now blinking furiously.

Alyssa and Raquel snickered rudely. "Yeah, right."

"Of course you didn't," Pansy said smoothly, coming unexpectedly to Millicent's rescue.

The other girls looked at her in surprise, and Pansy continued. "What respective Slytherin would write a poem for a Hufflepuff? A Muggleborn one, no less. Nobody really believes that you wrote it," she lied, giving Alyssa and Raquel pointed looks. "Isn't that right?"

They instantly shut up, and Millicent sent her a confused, albeit grateful, look. Pansy merely shrugged at her. She didn't care if Millicent fancied a Muggleborn, but the girl really should have been smarter about keeping that little tidbit out of the hands of her roommates if she couldn't handle the punishment.

"Speaking of pathetic crushes," Blaise drawled, eyeing Pansy meanly. "Any new developments with our favorite Slytherin, Parkinson?"

Ah, crap.

Pansy felt her stomach clench at the insinuation, but she struggled to keep her face impassive. She never should have opened her mouth-- especially since Blaise had been uncharacteristically silent for a record of two minutes, probably waiting for an opportunity to nail Pansy.

Pansy feigned a bored expression. "Really, Zabini. If you keep bringing up Draco, then people are going to suspect that you have a thing for him."

Raquel didn't even bother to look up from the magazine that she was now flipping through, but Alyssa and Millicent snickered, both happy to see the arsenal turned onto Blaise. She had hardly been bearable ever since returning for their seventh year at Hogwarts.

"If I did have a thing for Malfoy," Blaise shot back. "I wouldn't be ashamed to admit it. He's without a doubt the finest specimen in this damned school." Her mouth curved into a confident smirk. "Not that it does you any good, Parkinson. Everyone knows that Malfoy considers you one of the guys."

Well, that was just mean.

Pansy had the sudden urge to smash her best friend's face into the nearest wall. This was really getting old. For whatever reason, Blaise had recently been going out of her way to challenge Pansy at every opportunity. It was almost as if she were trying to compete for the position as the leader of their little group. If that was her agenda, then Blaise was just wasting her time, because Pansy had never considered herself to be the leader.

Not to forget that the girl was supposed to be her best friend.

"I realize that it seems to be impossible for you to grasp the concept of friendship, Zabini, but that's what Draco and I have. Now, get over it," she said slowly.

Blaise smirked. "That's all you have."

Sure, rub it in.

Pansy could feel her face giving way to a scowl. Before she could stop herself, she retorted, "Maybe you should concentrate on your own love life, Zabini."

Predictably, her best friend's eyes narrowed instantly. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked suspiciously.

Why do you make me do this, Blaise? Pansy asked silently. She really didn't like to, but it was the only way to make her friend shut up.

"If I were you, I'd be keeping a closer eye on my boyfriend. Seeing as how yours happens to be getting rather frisky, lately."

Even Raquel looked up at that comment.

Blaise looked furious. "What the hell are you talking about?" she screeched.

A few housemates dared to glance over. Perfect.

Pansy raised an insolent eyebrow and said calmly, "Just what I said. He's been pawing everything that moves."

Well, that may or may not be true, but Pansy had come across Aidan Bromley making out with some Hufflepuff in the library. She had been tempted to tell Blaise straight off, but then her friend had made the mistake of making some snide comment about her and Draco. Pansy had instantly written another memo to herself about filing away useful information for future use.

Blaise's mouth was hanging unattractively as she struggled to overcome her anger and find a suitable comeback.

Pansy didn't feel like waiting around to see the explosion, so she stood gracefully. Giving Blaise a pointed look that clearly said: Don't mess with me, she turned around and left the Great Hall.

It was only after she was out of sight that Pansy's proud shoulders sagged. She was tired of being in a constant state of alert whenever she was with her so-called friends.

It hadn't always been this way, as she recalled. Granted, the Slytherins in her year were hardly the sunniest bunch in Hogwarts, but then something happened that had altered things between them considerably. Well, someone, more like. The resurrection of a certain Dark Lord had whipped everyone into a high state of alert that resulted in almost continuous power struggles against one another.

Pansy couldn't help but mourn the loss of her ignorance.

She glanced at her watch. Some of the tension went out of her shoulders when she realized that it was time for her lesson.

Grinning, she turned around and began to head back toward the entrance hall. Ignoring the noise still coming from the Great Hall, she jogged hurriedly down the steep steps to the dungeons. The green lamps hanging along the walls immediately sprang to life as she approached, lighting her way along the winding corridors.

Once she reached the empty classroom, Pansy glanced around to make sure that she was alone. Satisfied, she undid her school robe and slipped it over her head. She removed her tie as well and slipped both items into her bag. Her hair was already secured in a ponytail, so she didn't have to worry about pulling it away from her face.

Taking a steadying breath, Pansy opened the door and slid inside the dark room as silently as possible.

The door automatically locked behind her.

Still grinning, she carefully placed her bag on the floor and reached for the sword of the nearest suite of armor. The weapon felt both heavy and deadly in her hand.

The room was pitch-black, but Pansy scanned the darkness for any sign of movement.

There were none.

Holding her breath, she moved further into the room. With every step, she was putting herself into more danger.

Once she was in the middle of the room (or what felt like the middle), she stopped and waited. Pansy strained her ears, but there was silence.

She frowned. Maybe he hadn't arrived, yet.

But as soon as the thought entered her mind, there was a quick movement to her left. Pansy immediately threw herself to the side and barely missed the sword that hit the ground with a loud clang. She whipped around and stared into the darkness.

There was a deep chuckle and a whispered spell.

The room immediately illuminated.

Pansy blinked once as her eyes adjusted and then focused in on the boy across from her.

Draco smirked at her amusedly. "You're getting better," he said softly. Like her, he had discarded his robe and tie. He had also removed his vest and the white sleeves of his shirt were rolled up.

If he weren't holding a sword, Pansy wasn't sure that she would have been able to hold herself back from pouncing on him.

Beaming with pride at his compliment, she mirrored him in the offensive position, holding the sword in front of her. They faced off and began to circle one another.

"Maybe you're just getting worse," she teased.

Draco immediately lunged at her, and Pansy barely managed to dodge him, spinning around in time for their swords to connect above their heads. Their faces were inches apart, and Pansy's breathing hitched at the intense look in his eyes.

"I've never been better," he said confidently.

"Maybe that's saying something," she responded with a smirk.

Draco immediately swung his sword in an arch toward her abdomen. Pansy quickly dropped her sword to block, but the unsteady impact caused her to stumble backwards.

Draco took advantage of her momentary weakness and knocked the sword right out of her hand. Dismayed, Pansy did some quick thinking.

Draco strode forward, grinning. He raised his sword with the intention of pressing it against her neck and claiming his victory. "That was a nice attempt--"

His face registered his shock when Pansy suddenly dropped out of his line of vision and onto her haunches. Using one hand to support herself, she drew back and kicked hard at his knees.

"Hey!" he cried, falling backward onto the floor.

Pansy quickly leapt forward and grabbed for his fallen sword. Gripping the hilt, she jumped to her feet and moved forward. She grinned down at him.

"It seems that I've finally beaten you, Monsieur Malfoy," she murmured happily.

She raised the sword, but was caught off guard when Draco's boot connected with her own knee. Sharp pain filled her leg at the sharp contact and she quickly found herself lying flat on her back.

Pansy was too surprised to react quickly enough. Before she could blink, Draco had rolled on top of her, and his sword was digging into her neck.

They stared at each other, hearts beating rapidly. The pressure of Draco's warm body on top of her instantly fuddled Pansy's brain. Those triumphant eyes were boring into her. Didn't he realize what he was doing to her?

Pansy was the first to break the silence. "Damn," she muttered.

Draco gave her a dazzling grin. "The day that you beat me, Mademoiselle Parkinson, is the day that I will relinquish all to you."

Pansy couldn't help herself. She raised her head and hesitantly pressed her lips against the corner of his mouth. When there was no response, Pansy immediately pulled away and averted her eyes in shame. Oh, Merlin. When was she going to accept that Blaise had been right? Draco didn't see her that way.

To make matters worse, Draco actually laughed. Rolling off of her, he retrieved his wand and said quick spells over both of their aching legs. Tucking the wand away, he swiftly stood and offered her his hand. "It's been a while since you did that," he said good humouredly, referring to the kiss.

Pansy took the offered hand, but she refused to look at him.

Their relationship had always been a strange one. They were friends, but not in the same way that they were friends with anyone else. There had always been an underlying chemistry that neither had realized was special until they had entered their teenage years. Actually, maybe only Pansy realized it. She honestly had no idea what Draco made of the two of them. There had always been innocent kisses and brushes of skin, so maybe Draco never even thought twice about it.

Unfortunately, the innocence had only lasted until Pansy had realized that she more than liked it when Draco touched her.

At first, things had been fine between them. Pansy had merely acted normally whenever he was around, and then entertained herself with fantasies while in private. It had worked just fine during their first and second years at Hogwarts, but unfortunately, things couldn't stay the same. She used to be the only girl, other than his mother, in Draco's life. But by their fourth year, Draco's hormones had finally kicked into full gear.

Needless to say, things became quite different.

At least, for Pansy, anyway.

"You weren't at dinner," she said, struggling to fight off the bitter feelings that were associated with her fourth year.

Draco picked up both of their swords and put them back in their places before answering. "Yeah. Mandy Brocklehurst cornered me on the way to the Great Hall." He gave her a fiendish smile. "You wouldn't think that a Ravenclaw bookworm like that would be so... creative."

Pansy sighed and concentrated on brushing the imaginary dust off of her clothes. Draco never seemed to realize that she had absolutely no interest whatsoever in hearing about his sexual conquests.
Honestly, how dense could the boy be?

"Did you really mean it when you said that I've gotten better?" she asked hopefully, purposely changing the subject.

"Do I ever say things that I don't mean?" he asked seriously.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Constantly."

Draco looked put out. "Well, I meant that."

She grinned, but Draco quickly deflated her ego. "When we first started, you could barely lift a sword, let alone swing one."

She glared at him. "Well, excuse me for being unfamiliar with weaponry. You know, most girls my age spend their time trying new make-up products. I still don't understand why I'm wasting my time here doing mortal combat with you. Muggle combat."

Draco shook his head and gave her a stern look. "It's not a waste of your time. I told you that it's going to benefit you when the actual fighting starts."

Pansy frowned. "I highly doubt that everyone is suddenly going to forget their wands in favor of swords," she said skeptically.

"Maybe not, but you never know what's going to happen. Look at whom we're dealing with. Dumbledore has half a foot in the Muggle world as it is, so there's no sense in being unprepared," Draco said sensibly, running a hand through his hair. Blonde strands fell back into his eyes, and Pansy instinctively reached up to brush them away from his face. She allowed her hand to linger on his cheek.

They stared at each other silently for a moment. Pansy wanted to kiss him for real this time, but that would have been foolish. Draco would probably laugh at her, again.

"We'd better get back to the dorm. I still have a lot of homework left to do," he said finally.

Reluctantly, Pansy removed her hand from his face and picked up her bag from the floor. "You'd have finished by now, if you didn't spend all of your time with slags attached to parts of your anatomy," she grumbled.

Draco just gave her a look and guided her out of the classroom. Pansy tried not to enjoy the feeling of his hand against her back.

"Did you finish your painting, yet?" Draco asked.

She shook her head. "Nope. Sadly, some of us actually have limited free time."

Draco gave her a wolfish smile. "Pity."

Pansy felt the remnants of her good mood swiftly leaving her. Her voice came out surlier than she would have liked. "Why were you with Brocklehurst, anyway? I thought that you said she was a loser."

"Did I say that?" he asked innocently.

"Yes," she said dully. "To her face, actually. Right after she asked you to dance at the Yule Ball. In front of everyone."

"Huh." Draco looked thoughtful for a moment. "Oh, that's right!" he said finally, obviously recalling the incident. "Well, she's fixed her hair since then."

"She cut two inches off," she muttered.

He gave her a sideways look. "The Yule Ball was years ago. I can't believe that you still remember that."

Pansy felt her face heat up. "Only because it was one of the high points of the night," she lied. "The poor girl burst into hysterics. I can't believe that she's forgiven you, already."

"Oh, she's forgiven me all right," Draco said smugly.

Pansy just shook her head. She didn't want to think about that girl and her best friend. Apparently Draco would even rather snog a loser over her. Surprise, surprise. She felt her ego sink down into her shoes.

"You wouldn't believe some of the things that she's learned to do," Draco continued happily.

"Hmn," Pansy murmured noncommittally, rummaging through her bag. She pulled out a spare piece of parchment and her special self-inking quill.

"If I'd known, I never would have blown her off like that--"

"Draco," she said abruptly, cutting him off.

He paused and looked at her. "What?"

"Hold this," she said, shoving her bag into his arms.

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously.

"Turn around," she ordered.

Draco gave her a confused look, but did as he was told.

Purposely not checking out his impressive backside, she held up her parchment against his back and scribbled a sloppy note onto it.

Memo to self: Cut off Draco's manhood.

"Thanks," she said, tearing off the corner of the parchment and stuffing it into her pocket. She took back her bag and stuffed the rest of the parchment and her quill back into it.

Without another word, she continued on her way back to the dorms.

Draco gave her an amused look. "You and your notes," he said, not exactly sounding mocking.

"You and your sluts," she responded, almost succeeding in not sounding bitter.

Instead of being offended, Draco laughed. "Well, you got me there."

************************************************************

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, with the curtains drawn, Pansy reached into her pocket and emptied the contents onto her bedspread. There were at least ten notes.

Hoping that there would be some small bit of wisdom among them, Pansy began to sift through the notes. She opened the nearest one.

Memo to self: Get Over Draco Malfoy.

Well, that was sensible enough.

She picked up the next one.

Memo to self: Get New Friends.

Also a good idea. But it was kind of late in the game to try to assimilate herself into unfamiliar groups. Pansy didn't delude herself into thinking that she was particularly popular. If nothing else, the girls from her house were feared, but definitely not liked.

She opened another note.

Memo to self: Get Over Draco Malfoy.

Pansy sighed and reached for another one.

Memo to self: Owl Parents About Getting More Paints.

She smiled to herself and reached for a piece of parchment to write that letter. She had enough paints to probably finish her current project, but after that? Pansy could already feel the insanity setting in.

She quickly jotted down what she needed, being sure to throw in a bunch of crap about missing her parents, and then tucked the letter away for later. She wrote herself another note so that she'd remember to actually send it.

Satisfied, Pansy reached for another one.

Memo to self: Get Over Draco Malfoy.

Growling in frustration, Pansy gathered up the notes and stuffed them into her note-box. It had been a present from Draco two Christmas' ago. It was a small black box that actually had a huge amount of space in it once the right spell was uttered. It had been really thoughtful of him.

Locking up the note-box with another handy spell, Pansy left it on her bed and shoved the curtains aside. Her roommates were still down in the common room, so Pansy conveniently had the room to herself. She hopped off of her bed and moved in front of the full-length mirror.

Frowning, she studied herself.

Her wild, waist-length black hair was under control, thanks to Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. Her hair was nowhere near as bad as Granger's on its own, but there was definitely too much curl for her taste.

Something Pansy had always wished for were blue eyes. Blaise had incredible blue eyes that Pansy had seen her use to her advantage on more than one occasion. Draco also had amazing eyes that shifted between being a very light blue to gray, depending on his mood. Her own eyes were large, brown, and boring.

Although Pansy's body had filled out considerably sometime between fourth and fifth year, Blaise still had her beat in that category. She couldn't even share clothes with her best friend, anymore, without worrying about Blaise stretching her tops out.

All in all, not too shabby.

Too bad that she still looked like a pug.

Pansy was a lot of things, but deaf wasn't one of them. She knew that people compared her to small mammals behind her back. Granted, she hadn't heard anything recently, but that didn't erase the hurtful memories.

Draco always told her that she was pretty, but Pansy didn't fool herself. The boy, magnetic as he may be, was a blatant liar. If she really were attractive, then Draco would have showed more than platonic interest in her by now.

Complete slut that he was.

Pansy sighed and moved away from the mirror. She pulled another parchment out of her bag and tore off the corner. Retrieving her quill, she leaned over her desk and wrote herself another note.

Memo to self: Become Somebody Else

***************************************************

"I don't believe this," Blaise hissed.

They were sitting in Herbology, waiting to be paired off into partners for their upcoming project. Blaise had just been put with Hermione Granger, and needless to say, she wasn't happy about it.

Pansy gave her friend an amused look. As usual, there had been no mention whatsoever of their earlier squabble. "What are you complaining about?" she asked. "You're partnered with Granger. She'll probably do all of the work by herself."

"Exactly," Blaise grumbled. "I'm stuck with the know-it-all."

"Are you saying that you actually want to do the work?" Pansy asked, incredulous. She glanced over at Granger, who, incredibly enough, seemed to have already started jotting down notes, despite the fact that the project hadn't even been assigned, yet.

Blaise shrugged self-consciously. "I'm not saying that. It's just that I like Herbology, and this project could be interesting."

Pansy just shook her head in amazement. Blaise had always been something of an enigma to her. No one would ever suspect her best friend of being a bookworm to any degree, nor would they be wrong. Blaise was not above bullying other students into doing her homework for her.

But then again, who would have guessed that the girl would actually like Herbology, of all things? Everyone seemed to think that every Slytherin's favorite class was Potions. That may have been true of Draco, but Pansy didn't understand it. Sure, Snape's blatant favoritism sometimes bordered on embarrassing, and she was doing all right in his N.E.W.T class, but that didn't change the fact that the class was its own layer of hell.

"Seamus Finnigan and... Draco Malfoy!"

On her other side, Draco groaned loudly. "Why do I have to be with Finnigan?" he grumbled to her.

Pansy had been concentrating on Draco's warm thigh, which was currently pressing against hers, but she took the time to glance back over to where the Gryffindors were clustered.

Not surprisingly, Seamus didn't look too pleased with the arrangement, either. The Gryffindor boys nearest him were patting his shoulders sympathetically.

Pansy rolled her eyes. Anyone would have been lucky to be paired up with Draco. Ever since his father had cracked down on him about his grades, Draco had been almost scary in his dedication.

"At least you didn't get stuck with Potter, again," she said dismissively.

Secretly, she was rather disappointed about that. She loved the way that Draco's eyes got that intense look whenever he was sparring with Potter. It was one of the reasons that she had always picked on Granger. Whenever one of his friends was threatened, Potter could always be counted on to butt in, and that naturally led to Draco jumping in. Pansy usually only had to contribute about two words to the mix before Draco and Potter took over.

She glimpsed down at their still-aligned thighs. Draco couldn't possibly be as oblivious to their almost constant physical contact as he seemed to be. Especially since it was usually him who sought out the contact. She may not have kissed him in a while, but that didn't mean that he hadn't kissed her. Short brushes of the mouth, and hands on shoulders... There was simply no way that he could be so unaware of what he was doing to her.

Could he?

"I don't see why we always have to share most of our classes with the Gryffindors, anyway," Blaise muttered.

"Dumbledore," Draco spat instantly. "He probably thinks that if we're forced in together with them enough that they'll be a good influence on us."

"Rubbish," Blaise agreed.

"Will you two shut up?" Pansy whispered. "I haven't heard my name called, yet."

She was more than familiar with Draco's anti-Gryffindor and anti-Dumbledore diatribe. He wasn't off when he said that Dumbledore favored the Gryffindors. Hell, everyone did. It always made her blood boil when her fellow students complained about Snape's Slytherin bias. The Gryffindors had the entire world on their side, so why not allow the Slytherins one defender?

"Pansy Parkinson and... Dean Thomas."

Pansy blinked. Thomas? She looked over at the Gryffindor in surprise. The boy may have been in her year, but she couldn't remember having ever spoken to him before in her life.

"Thomas?" Draco sniffed. He looked Dean over with disdain. "Well, I suppose there's an upside. You could always teach your plant to attack whenever a Muggleborn comes too close." His face brightened. "It could be your Christmas present to me."

"He's better than Finnigan," Pansy countered, not knowing if that was true. "And how do you know that we're going to be teaching tricks to plants, anyway?"

"What else are we going to do?" he said with a bored shrug.

"I've worked with him before," Blaise told her, referring to Dean. "He's not the worst Gryffindor in the lot." She gave Granger another sour look.

Somewhat relieved, Pansy glanced over at her partner. Dean's friends were currently snickering to him and giving Pansy pointed looks.

Feeling her face heat up, Pansy concentrated on staring down at the table. Why did they have to do that? After seven years of sharing the same classes and being paired together, you would think that her year-mates would have gotten a little more mature about the partner-thing.

But apparently not.

She risked looking up again, only to find another pair of eyes looking back at her. Pansy blinked in surprise. Thomas had turned around in his seat and had apparently been staring. He instantly blushed at the eye contact, but didn't turn away.

They studied each other silently for a moment.

Thomas was definitely tall, but not imposingly so. He had broad shoulders and dark eyes that Pansy had never considered interesting before. His dark skin was smooth and he had full lips that Pansy instantly found herself jealous of.

She began to study him more intently. Thomas suddenly seemed very intriguing, seeing as how Pansy had never particularly noticed him before.

Pansy tilted her head and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him, wondering what he was thinking about her. Thomas merely gave her a quick smile in return before turning back around in his seat. Finnegan said something snide, but Thomas didn't even acknowledge him.

"Now that you've all been sorted into partners," Professor Sprout began, interrupting Pansy's train of thought. "I'll tell you about your projects."

Blaise leaned forward eagerly.

Uninterested, Pansy continued to watch Thomas. She chewed on her quill thoughtfully.

This could definitely be interesting.

******************************************