Forgivable Expectations

Forgivable Expectations

Chapter 9: Deadlock

"Enemies, as well as lovers, come to resemble each other over a period of time."

--Sydney J. Harris.

Deadlock: a standstill resulting from the opposition of two unrelenting forces or factions.

The winter still present in the air made the light breeze brisk against her cheeks. Pansy tugged her scarf tighter around her neck, but she still shivered. The warm compartments in the Hogwarts Express beckoned invitingly to her, but she couldn't go inside yet. Not until--

There. Pansy froze at the sight of the familiar blonde head. Draco was still saying goodbye to his parents. He hadn't spotted her yet.

Pansy had been dreading this moment for days, and it took every ounce of her willpower to keep her from running away from this. She waited, frozen to the platform, as Draco finished hugging his mother and shaking his father's hand. She watched as he levitated his luggage and turned towards--

Her. Even across the platform, she knew he gasped because she felt it in her own throat as their eyes met. It was Draco's turn to freeze. She held her breath, waiting, as time narrowed down to this and the world drained to black and white.

Draco looked as if he might say something, though he was still too far away for her to hear him. He took a wobbly step toward her, but then he stopped again. There had been a flash of something, some unidentifiable emotion, on his face when he first spotted her, but he seemed to catch himself because he then instantly locked his reaction away from her.

It was then that Pansy instinctively knew that this had been a mistake. He wasn't ready for this. But her sympathy was limited because Pansy hadn't been ready for this either. Putting all the power into Draco's hands was the biggest gamble of her life so far. For better or worse, this was their fork in the road. They would either move past it together or apart. Her ultimatum had been clear:

"I know it's a lot to ask ... So, you think about it, about what I'm asking for and what it means for you. But Draco, if you decide that I'm not what you want, that we're not what you want, then that's it. We're finished. I don't want you to speak to me. Just leave me alone."

And time was up.

She waited.

Then, she didn't have to wait anymore because he was moving. He turned away from her and disappeared into a crowd of bustling students. There and then gone, just like that.

The world sped up again in a burst of cruel, pulsating color.

Pansy let her gaze sink down to the ground where it settled on a nondescript patch of sunlight. She stayed like that for several moments as people around her rushed past and families gave final, boisterous goodbyes. She heard them, but the sounds seemed to echo from somewhere far away. It wasn't until she heard the train blare a warning that she finally came out of her stupor.

She calmly bent forward and picked up her single traveling case and then turned on her heel and headed in the opposite direction from which Draco had gone. So be it.

As she entered a car at the back of the train, it occurred to her that this would be the first time in seven years that she rode the Hogwarts Express without her friends-- something she suspected would become the norm. Pansy endured being squeezed and shoved from all sides before she found an empty compartment. Typically, she would have counted on Blaise or Raquel to bully out any students unfortunate enough to have inhabited the compartment she wanted. But this time she had only herself and no desire to exert the energy required to bully anyone.

By the time she was safely ensconced in her compartment, she was sweating and her hair was a mess beneath her wool cap. Miserable, she slumped onto the seat and stared out the window. She had resented her friends so often lately that it had become a reflex. But she never really considered how lonely it would be without them. "Pathetic, Parkinson," she muttered to herself.

Still... She imagined they were probably torturing some Gryffindors at that very moment, and she was missing out. Or Draco could have been spinning the raid at Malfoy Manor into some finely tuned hero worship of his father. She could practically hear him now: "Father had those aurors running in circles!" Right.

Now thoroughly depressed, Pansy sank even lower in her seat so that her cheek smooshed against the window pane. The ultimatum had been hers, she knew, but that didn't make the resulting silence from him any easier to bear. She hadn't heard a word from him since that evening in the snow. However, Draco didn't really need words to get his point across, did he?

No. He didn't. Walking away from her sent the message loud and clear. Ultimatum given and answer received. The end. Except... Well, maybe a part of her had never really believed Draco would let her go, no matter what she said.

More fool me, she thought.

Pansy took a deep, shuddering breath. Everything was going to change now. Everything she'd ever wanted, ever worked for... gone. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed away the panic she felt bubbling up again. She'd known this was a possible outcome when she'd given the ultimatum, and part of her even knew that this wasn't really the end of the world. But that didn't explain why her eyes were misting up.

"Oi! I think there's an empty one here!"

Pansy wasn't prepared for the door to abruptly slid open and reveal Seamus Finnegan's laughing face. His laughter and smile died when he saw her. "Never mind. There's a Slytherin in here."

Caught off guard, Pansy ripped her cheek from the window-- ouch-- and straightened. She quickly averted her face and hastily wiped at her eyes. "That's right," she croaked. "So run along, Finnegan." She didn't think he could see the cheek-shaped smudge on the window pane, but she leaned forward to block the spot just in case.

Really, she should have been prepared for Dean to pop his head in next. Everywhere Dean went, Finnegan wasn't far behind, and vice versa. She still wasn't prepared, though.

He did a double-take when he saw her, but he recovered quickly. "Cheers, Pansy," he said.

She inwardly winced at the casual use of her name in front of Finnegan, but the only response she gave was to grunt at him before turning back to the window. She hoped they would take the hint and go away because she was in no mood for this.

"All alone, Parkinson?" Finnegan asked, dashing her hopes. The lack of hostility in his voice caught her attention immediately-- and, wow, even she had to admit how sad that was.

"I think I saw your lot two cars back," he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder.

Her lot. Right. At least Finnegan looked as uncomfortable with this small gesture as Pansy felt receiving it. Dean seemed surprised but happily so.

"Would it be all right if we sat in here?" he asked, smiling hopefully.

Before Pansy could object, Finnegan threw up his hands and laughed uneasily. "Nah, mate. I think I'll just leave you two kids alone."

Pansy's mouth fell open.

"Deano, I'll see you back at Hogwarts, yeah?"

"Sure, mate," Dean said. He was still grinning as he slid the door closed and sat across from her. "So, how was... your...?" His voice trailed off at the expression on her face. "What's wrong?"

Pansy's fingers clenched into the seat cushions. She had to grip the fabric or else risk hurling something solid at his head. "Why don't you tell me, Deano? Why did Finnegan act just now as if he knows something about us?"

Dean rubbed his head sheepishly. "Um..."

He didn't really have to say any more than that. Great. Just great. Horrified, Pansy dropped her face into her hands and groaned through her fingers. Her situation was already bad enough without Gryffindors knowing her business. Pathetic as she was, Bulstrode was enough of a worry all by her lonesome. "Damn, I hate my life," she muttered.

"What?"

"Who else knows?" she demanded.

"Come on, Pansy--"

"Tell me, Thomas!"

Dean's face sobered at the genuine anger in her voice. He sat back and crossed his arms defensively. "You mean, besides the Art Club?"

Pansy had almost forgotten about them. "Besides them," she said with a careless wave of her hand. Aside from Terry Boot, none of those artsy tossers had ever posed any kind of threat to her.

He glared at her. "No one else."

Well, that was a relief. But still... "What possessed you to tell anyone at all?"

Dean scoffed, and she realized he was angry now, too. "In case you've forgotten, Malfoy accosted me right in front of Seamus and countless other people. If you were hoping for subtlety, then you should take it up with him."

"Draco accosts a lot of people! You could have made up any kind of explanation! You didn't have to tell him the truth!"

"Not everyone makes a habit of lying to their friends. But, really, it's charming how ashamed of me you are. Good to know."

Pansy stared at him in disbelief. "Are you seriously moralizing at me right now? How nice for you that your friendships are uncomplicated, but I don't have that luxury. That's not how my world works, and you can't be that naïve."

"Have you ever even considered that this situation might be awkward for me, too?" he challenged. "Do you think my friends would jump for joy at the prospect of you and me?"

Once faced with the question, Pansy realized that she had never really considered what Dean's friends would think. She hadn't given much thought to Dean's life at all beyond their shared interest in art and each other. Then again, in her defense, she never thought any of them would ever find out, period. At least, she hoped they wouldn't. So much for that.

"Then you should understand that it's complicated," she said with a pointed look.

Irritated as he was with her, she had him there. Dean slumped in defeat. "Why are you alone in here anyway?" he grumbled. "Where are your cronies?"

"I don't know where my cronies are," she said sourly. "I didn't want to sit with them because..." She hesitated. Should she tell him?

"Because why?"

Pansy considered the matter and then decided telling him made no difference at this point. "Well, Draco and I aren't exactly speaking at the moment," she muttered as if admitting a dirty secret. She didn't bother explaining the rest of the convoluted politics involved because she doubted he would understand.

When he didn't say anything, Pansy snuck a look at him from the corner of her eye. She wasn't necessarily expecting a certain kind of response from him, but she certainly expected some kind of reaction other than the blank stare she received. "Well? Did you hear what I said?"

"Oh, I heard you all right."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Thomas!" she squeaked indignantly. "Don't pretend you don't care!"

"So, we're back to Thomas now? No more Dean?"

She didn't dignify that with a response.

Dean sighed, and she realized they weren't finished being angry at each other yet. "What do you want me to say? That I'm jealous? That I'm relieved?" He shrugged as if to say, I give up, though the frustration in his eyes said otherwise. "So, what does that mean, Pansy? Are you telling me that you two had a fight? Over me? Is that it?"

"Not exactly..."

"Then what?" he exploded, causing her to flinch at the sudden volume of his voice.

"Where do you get off being such a bastard all of a sudden?" she cried. If he were going to raise his voice, then she could give just as easily in kind.

"I'm not allowed to get frustrated?"

"No! I thought you'd be pleased to know that Draco is finally out of my life! Silly me! I thought you gave a toss, but apparently I was wrong--"

"Wait!" he said, pausing her with a gesture of his hand. "What did you say?"

"That I thought you gave a toss--"

"No, no! That other thing! About Malfoy."

"That he's finally out of my life?"

Dean blinked incredulously at her. "He is? Why didn't you say so?"

"I did say so! I said we weren't speaking anymore because we're finished. Our friendship, I mean."

"That is not what you said."

"Who cares what I said, Thomas?" she snapped.

Dean gave her an inscrutable look that made her squirm uncomfortably. She couldn't tell if he were pleased or not, but he damn well should be. "You really broke up with Malfoy?"

"I was never with him!" she protested in a voice much squeakier than she intended. "I told you that! Did you think I was lying?" He wouldn't be the first, but she still felt indignant.

Looking unconvinced, Dean shrugged. "You and I were both there that day, and the only way that bastard could have been more clear in staking his claim is if he had actually pissed on you."

Pansy's mouth fell open.

"And you didn't exactly protest," he said bitterly.

She near slapped him. Her outrage must have been plain on her face, because Dean immediately looked apologetic. "Pansy--"

"No," she hissed, standing so that she towered over him. "You shut up and listen to me now. I am no one's property. Least of all Draco's." But even that almost felt like a lie, and realizing that made her feel sick.

Once again, Dean did the last thing she expected him to do. He took her clenched fist in his hands and gently unclenched her fingers one by one. "You're right," he said soothingly. "That came out wrong, and I'm sorry."

He was giving in? Just like that? She searched his face for signs of condescension but felt caught off guard when she found none.

Still angry, though perhaps more at herself now than at him, she hovered, unsure, in the center of the compartment until Dean tugged her down so that she was sitting next to him. She barely bothered to put up a token protest.

"I was never with him," she repeated sullenly. She didn't add that he had no right to be upset even if she were. Or that if Draco had made a different decision just minutes earlier, they wouldn't even be having this conversation. Though, she did feel a twinge of guilt for that.

"Look, I have to ask you something."

She could tell that Dean didn't want to say what he was about to, and her stomach knotted in anticipation. "Then ask."

However reluctant, once he got going, the accusations poured out of him like the release of a dam. "If you're only friends, then why does he-- no, why do you both act the way you do? Most people at this school are under the impression that you're together, and you can't blame them because you act as if you're a couple. I can barely get a moment alone with you because Malfoy seems to lurk around every corner. Did you know that he sent me threatening letters through the owl post?"

She didn't know that, but she couldn't tell him so because Dean was still rambling. "He usually makes a big deal out of giving you the snitch every time your house wins a Quidditch game, even though he gave the last one to Padma Patil. Which, by the way, makes him look like a total wanker. It's unsportsmanlike to fly around, celebrating like a ponce, after one victory. If he played football, then I can tell you--"

Pansy pinched the bridge of her nose. "Focus, Thomas."

"And..." Here he sputtered, losing some of his steam. "And Terry told me he saw you two kissing in the library."

That bastard Boot again. Was there no privacy to be had at this school?

Dean scowled. "And you're not denying it."

She couldn't. "Look, it's complicated, okay?"

"You keep saying that!"

"It's still true!"

"How is it complicated?" he persisted.

"We've already had this conversation! I thought we were past this."

"Well, we're not because you never gave me a real answer, just some bullshit about not being able to have a boyfriend."

Pansy didn't even know where to begin. She couldn't tell him the truth. Not the whole truth anyway. "We've been friends our whole lives," she attempted, consciously editing herself.

"You already said that, too."

"You obviously weren't listening! So, are you going to shut up now and let me actually explain or not?"

Dean just glared at her.

"Anyway, like I was saying," she said pointedly. "Our whole lives is a long time. And maybe, over the years, some feelings got... confused." That alone was as much as she had ever confessed to anyone. Not that anyone with eyes in their heads couldn't see that they were more than friends, what with Draco snogging her all over the place. The bastard.

She could feel herself beginning to get choked up, so she rushed forward with, "But there were times when we could only trust each other. Maybe that's why we can sometimes be overly... protective of each other. But--"

Dean snorted, interrupting her. "Possessive, you mean."

"If that's what you want to call it..."

"Is there any other way to describe it?"

"But we were never anything other than friends," she finished lamely. Was that a lie, too? Yes. And no.

Dean made a face as if he had just heard something unsavory. "You know, you and Malfoy... I'm getting the feeling that maybe I don't want to hear this after all."

"You asked!" she said defensively. "And maybe it's none of your business anyway."

"Maybe it isn't."

"Why is all of this suddenly so important to you?" she demanded. "I don't recall you asking all these questions before. If you thought Draco was my boyfriend, then you certainly had no problem with it when you snogged me!"

He held up his hands in surrender. "Fine. You win. Can we please talk about something other than Malfoy?"

"Fine!"

Neither of them spoke at all for several minutes as they sulked in mutual silence. Pansy was having a hard time justifying to herself why she was even still in the compartment with him. This was perhaps the most honest conversation they had ever shared, and it was going appallingly. Usually mild mannered, Dean was being a complete tosser for some reason. She didn't need this additional stress on top of everything else. But she couldn't bring herself to actually stand up and leave.

"How was your holiday?" Dean eventually tried.

"Spectacular," she deadpanned.

"What did you do?"

Hmn. Cried her weight in tears? "The usual Christmas things."

Dean raised an eyebrow at her. "You can't be more descriptive?"

She wasn't feeling particularly ready to move onto small talk. "Food, presents, tinsel. Descriptive enough?"

Dean dropped his face into his hands. "Merlin's sake, you're being impossible!"

She eyed him warily. She seemed to be bringing out the worst in him today. "What exactly do you want from me?"

He gave a sour laugh. "I want us to have a conversation like normal people."

"I think we've already established that what you deem to be normal is nowhere near my definition," she muttered. Another reason to just get up and walk out of here, she thought dejectedly.

"Why don't you try asking me how my holiday was?"

"I assume it was just glorious," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, it wasn't."

Surprised, she looked at him-- really looked at him for the first time since he had come barging into her compartment, and she realized that there was something sad about his expression. "Oh?"

"My parents fought the entire holiday, and my aunt Mildred got drunk and set fire to the Christmas tree. It seems like no matter what I do, I can't get everyone to just sit down and have a nice holiday, and it's like that every year."

Pansy didn't know what to say. Without ever really thinking about it, she had always just assumed that Dean came from the kind of warm and snuggly family that she only glimpsed on postcards. If not, then how did he end up so... so Dean?

Feeling worn down and out, Pansy rubbed at her eyes tiredly. After everything she was going through in her own life, did she even have enough of herself to spare for this? "You win, Thomas," she murmured.

His forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

She lowered her hand and gave him a long, measuring stare. "I had a shit holiday, too," she admitted.

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "Look, I'm sorry. I just... Have you ever felt as if the whole world was allied against you?"

Dean snickered, and Pansy felt her defenses rise up. "What's so funny?"

"I just love when people ask 'have you ever' questions. Because the answer never matters since the point of the question is to reveal something about the person asking the question."

She scowled. "You're making fun of me, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"I hate you," she said, slumping.

"Oh, I don't think that's true."

They sat in together in silence for several moments, but this time the silence was companionable. Pansy ignored it when Dean's hand brushed against her own, but when his fingers laced together with hers, she groaned. "Don't touch me, Thomas," she said grumpily, though she made no effort to move her hand away.

"Okay," he said. His hand didn't move either.

This thing between them became more and more impossible every day. She knew that, but she was having a really bad day. At least, that was how she was going to justify this to herself later.

"What did Finnegan say about us when you told him?" she finally asked.

"That I'm barmy."

"You are."

"Yeah, probably."

"So why, Thomas?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "You don't exactly make it easy, Pansy. But for some reason, I think we could really be something. Something worth it. Don't ask me why," he teased, smiling, "but I do."

The temperature of the compartment seemed to spike as Pansy's body flushed with warmth. He thought they could be something worth it? Merlin, this boy really was barmy. But his insanity didn't explain why her face was suddenly burning. Without really thinking about it, she tugged the heavy, too-warm cap from her head. However, the expression on Dean's face instantly reminded her of why she was wearing the cap to begin with.

"You cut your hair!"

Pansy grimaced and averted her eyes. "Yeah, and it looks as if I trimmed it with a rusty knife," she said, echoing Draco's words to her. "Go ahead and say it."

She jumped in surprise at the feel of Dean's hand against her neck. Her flush deepened as he fingered the jagged strands. "It's different, but believe it or not, I think it works for you. Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, swallowing down the lump that was suddenly swelling in her throat. "Absolutely nothing at all."

* * *

Pansy put off going up to the dorm as long as she possibly could, which turned out to be about fifteen minutes of dawdling around corridors until she got bored.

She wasn't afraid of facing her roommates, but the uncertainty of it all bothered her. She had no idea what Draco would have told them. Her pride shriveled just thinking about their knowing how she had cut herself open and spilled out all her pride onto Draco's lap.

She ascended the stairs slowly, taking the time to build up her shields before she entered the room. She also straightened her cap to hide her shorn hair as best she could.

They were already assembled inside, chatting as they unpacked their things, but they fell silent at the creak of the opening door. Here we go, Pansy thought to herself.

Waiting for someone to break the ice, she met their stares in turn with a confidence she didn't necessarily feel. That is, until--

"Oh, it's just Pansy," Blaise said dismissively, turning back to her luggage.

She choked on her held breath. What?

"We thought you were Bulstrode," Raquel explained. "We were just discussing all the new and fabulous ways we're going to torture her this term." She flashed a Cheshire grin Pansy's way that might have given her pause if she gave a fig about Bulstrode right then.

"Yes, and I'm already bored of the subject," Alyssa said from her place in front of her vanity. She smacked her bright red lips in the mirror and then turned to Pansy with a spastic shake of her head. "Well?"

She stared at her until she realized that Alyssa was referring to the new auburn curls that bounced on her shoulders where straight hair used to be. She had an expectant look on her face that told Pansy she was looking for a compliment.

Alyssa pouted when Pansy offered her nothing. "What do you think?" she finally prompted.

Pansy didn't bother telling her that she gave even less of a shit about this than she did about Bulstrode. Her roommates finally had enough emotional ammo to stage a bloody coup against her, and they wanted to talk about hair?

"Why are you standing there like that?" Blaise snapped. "Close the door already."

Pansy felt befuddled enough to actually obey. Shutting the door, she wandered over to her bed, all the while eyeing her roommates suspiciously.

"Oh, Pansy!" Raquel said so suddenly that Pansy jumped. "Look what I found in Diagon Alley." She tossed Pansy something small that she almost instinctively dodged, but ended up catching. It was a vial of aquamarine paint.

"For me?" she asked, surprised.

Raquel rolled her eyes. "Because I love painting so much."

"I don't have this color," Pansy said absently. She held the vial away from her body as if it might suddenly explode on her.

"Thought so," Raquel said, looking smug.

"And my nan sent you her annual Christmas fudge," Alyssa said, pointing to a open tin that had been placed on her pillow.

"Half the chocolate is gone," she said, confused. She couldn't figure out their game, and surprisingly thoughtful gifts and half-eaten chocolate tins made even less sense to her at the moment. She hadn't gotten them anything.

"Oh, that was my present to you," Blaise purred. "I figured I was doing you a favor by eating some of that fudge. You know how much weight you put on over the holidays."

Pansy almost snapped the paint vial in half. It was beginning to dawn on her that Draco hadn't told them a thing, and she hadn't walked into a hostile situation at all-- well, no more hostile than usual.

She already knew the answer when she blurted out, "Didn't Draco tell you?"

"About what?" Blaise asked.

What, indeed. Pansy resisted the impulse to groan. It wasn't that she was disappointed... exactly. But she did feel some annoyance over the fact that he made her do even this herself, though she recognized the mercy in the gesture. Somewhat.

"Nothing much," she said with feigned nonchalance. "We're not speaking is all. Thought he would have mentioned it."

Her roommates exchanged glances. They didn't look particularly surprised.

"Is this because of the Quidditch thing?" Alyssa asked.

Pansy smoothed her quilt out over her bedspread, not meeting anyone's eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about. It was a disagreement, that's all."

"Well, that explains where you've been all holiday," Blaise said. "You've been off sulking somewhere."

"Have not," Pansy muttered.

Blaise raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Then where have you been? We didn't hear from you the entire holiday, and then you didn't even show up on the train."

Pansy scoffed as if that weren't a perfectly valid question. "I was late," she lied, "and I didn't feel like scouting the entire train for you nits."

"Right," Blaise sneered. "Having yourself an ickle cry in the loo because Malfoy hurt your feelings? That about right, Parkinson?"

Blaise had no way of knowing how close to the mark she was shooting, and it was a good thing, too, that she couldn't see a physical manifestation of the damage her insight caused. Pansy bit down on her tongue.

Lounging back on her bed, Raquel hovered her pillows up to the top of her canopy with a bored flick of her wand. "I don't blame you for lying low," she said. "After what Malfoy did--"

"I don't care," Pansy quickly interrupted. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"You've forgiven him already?" Raquel asked, looking disgusted. "But he humiliated you--"

"Briggs!" she snapped, her patience about to shatter like glass. "Kindly shut your face." She said it as calmly as she could manage, but that probably didn't amount to much at the moment.

"Why doesn't it matter?" Blaise insisted.

Pansy only hesitated a moment. "I don't give a toss about Draco Malfoy anymore. I'm over it because I'm over him. We're no longer anything to each other. It's... over."

Her roommates paused in their tasks to stare at her. The pillow fell directly onto Raquel's head. She didn't notice.

"You're over Malfoy?" Alyssa asked for all of them.

"Yes," she said solemnly.

There was a heavy silence as they digested this. To say that Pansy felt chagrined when they all burst out laughing would be an understatement. Alyssa bent backwards over her chair with the force of her laughter.

"So... full of it," Raquel gasped through her laughter.

"Oh, bugger you all!" Pansy cried, though it just made them laugh harder. "This isn't funny!"

Blaise gave Pansy's shoulder a seemingly sympathetic pat that was belied by her obvious amusement. "I'm sorry, Parkinson, but for all the years I've known you, you've been all about three things. Those three things and nothing else."

Pansy angrily jerked away from her, but that didn't deter Blaise at all. She began counting off her fingers. "Those stupid paintings of yours, Sleakeazy hair gel-- which you need, by the way-- and..." She wagged the last finger coyly. "Draco Malfoy."

"Thanks for your input, Zabini." She turned away to avoid punching Blaise in her pretty face. "But you're wrong, as usual. I'm officially moving on. He's all yours."

Blaise snorted. "You're not over Malfoy. Not you."

"Believe what you want then," she said crossly. She set about ignoring them and pretended to focus on unpacking her things. She didn't notice Blaise staring at her until she turned and accidentally bumped right into her.

Her mouth twisted into a frustrated frown. "What are you playing at?" she demanded. "No one here believes you would ever let us have Malfoy-- even over your dead body. Which makes me wonder if you know something we don't..."

"Um, excuse me?" Alyssa said, waving a hand over her head. "For the record, this girl does not want Draco Malfoy. I don't even want to know how many diseases that boy's carrying by now-- no, Pansy, please don't tell me. And by the way, Blaise, has anyone ever told you that you're dangerously paranoid?"

"Why don't you have some more fudge, Nott?" Blaise suggested sweetly. "It'll give your mouth something to do while us big girls have our chat."

"So," Raquel said to Pansy. "You're saying that Malfoy is officially on the market? Truly?" She was doing a horrible job of pretending to seem unaffected. There was a greedy tone to her voice that she failed to disguise.

"He was always on the market," she said, "and much good it's done you, Briggs."

Alyssa left her vanity and came over to Pansy's side. "Seriously, Pansy. Are you feeling all right?" she asked, reaching to feel her forehead for a fever. Pansy batted her hand away.

"Well, I never thought I'd ever see you grow a spine," Blaise said, though she made it clear she didn't truly believe Pansy had.

"Happy to disappoint," Pansy snapped. "Look, the truth is that Malfoy is hardly the only unicorn in the pen."

Raquel's eyes widened. "Is that what this is about? Did Miss Pansy find herself a new unicorn?" She snickered at her own joke, unable to help herself.

Pansy's face must have turned red or else her lack of response gave her away, because she suddenly had their full attention again.

"You do!" Alyssa squealed.

Leaping over from her bed, Raquel practically pounced on her. "Who is it? Is it Grant Carmichael? Because if it isn't, then it should be."

Pansy scooted down the bed to put some distance between them. "Don't be stupid. There's no one else."

Alyssa looked disappointed. "Are you sure?"

"I would know!" The stupid bints. She couldn't believe she ever thought she would miss these people.

"And you're really over Malfoy?"

Pansy sighed. "Yes."

Blaise shook her head. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Blessedly, Millicent chose that moment to join them, and her roommates' attention instantly shifted. Not so good for Millicent, but Pansy was grateful.

* * *

There was no reason for the members of Slytherin House to know that Pansy and Draco weren't speaking. At least, not as early as breakfast the next morning.

No reason except that her roommates were traitorous hags.

The second she stepped into the Great Hall, she felt the stares like hot brands on her face. She froze so suddenly in the doorway that Alyssa collided against her back-- "Oh!"-- and they both stumbled ungracefully forward into the room. She didn't have to hear the anonymous snickers from the room to know they were there-- but she heard them nonetheless.

Face burning, Pansy righted herself with as much dignity as she could manage in that moment. She sent a scathing glance in the direction of a couple giggling Hufflepuff girls.

"Sorry," Alyssa said sheepishly.

Pansy spared her only a quick glare before turning her attention to the Slytherin table. An early riser for as long as she'd known him, Draco was already seated at the center of the table. Crabbe and Goyle were having some sort of animated conversation over Draco's head while he buttered himself a slice of toast. Theodore's head was buried in his arms and he was no doubt obnoxiously snoring.

All of this looked like a typical morning except for one thing. Every Slytherin whose name she had bothered to learn? They. Were. All. Staring. At. Her. Waiting to see what she'd do, no doubt. Except for Draco, of course. He didn't look up from his toast.

This would be the time to feel intimidated, but Pansy had prepared for this. She had two options now, and she knew the ramifications of each. She could sit as far down the table from Draco as possible, effectively separating herself from the herd and committing what would amount to social suicide akin to running away with her tail between her legs. Like Millicent, who was seated alone at the end of the table as she had been since she had betrayed them all to Dumbledore.

Yes, she could do that, or else she could face this head on and force them to acknowledge her.

Before she could do anything, Blaise brushed past her. She smirked at Pansy over her shoulder as she made her way directly to the center of the table. She must have realized Pansy's options, because she took a seat across from Draco, pointedly robbing Pansy of any hope that her so-called friends would follow her to another section of the table. Proving her point, Raquel quickly followed Blaise's example and left them to take a seat next to Theodore. That left enough spaces for two more people at the center. Just like always.

"Exactly how big of a fight did you two have?" Alyssa asked nervously. She started twitching like she might dash quickly over to the table, too.

"Come on," Pansy snarled. She grabbed Alyssa's arm before the girl could abandon her and marched her straight toward the center.

"Morning!" she loudly announced, plopping herself down across from Crabbe. Her voice woke Theodore, whose head shot up just as he choked on his last snore. Pansy's greeting received only guarded stares, but she ignored the spiking tension around her in favor of piling her plate high with eggs and toast. Alyssa cautiously took the seat next to her, though her eyes darted around as if in search of another seat.

Draco continued to feign absorption in his copy of The Daily Prophet, but he was given away by how tightly his fingers gripped the paper.

"Morning," Patchouli finally offered from her place a few seats down from Pansy, who smiled gratefully at her. She was going to start being extra nice to Patchouli.

The tense silence could only last so long. They had wondered what Pansy would do, and now they had their answer, which was apparently eat her breakfast. Talk started to pick back up around them, and Pansy breathed a private sigh of relief. She could do this. All she had to do was make sure everyone knew that she wasn't going anywhere, so there would be no room for anyone to try to take her place.

Blaise looked disappointed. Her gaze moved eagerly between Pansy and Draco as she waited for something to happen. But nothing did since they were too busy ignoring each other. Blaise's disappointment gave Pansy a stab of vicious satisfaction.

But then Belinda caught her eye, and Pansy realized it was a bit early to start congratulating herself since there was more than one hungry jackal at the feast.

"So, Draco," Belinda said loudly, though her eyes remained on Pansy. "How was your holiday?" She was sitting much closer to the center than she'd dared since Pansy last put her in her place.

Draco barely glanced up at her. "Fine," he grunted. He made a show of turning the page of his paper.

Pansy stared hard at her toast.

Belinda wasn't deterred. "Is it true you're dating that Ravenclaw girl you snogged at the Quidditch match?"

Pansy didn't allow herself to react, but Belinda's question immediately re-snared the attention of everyone near enough to hear. Heads turned back to Draco, who finally gave up the pretence of reading his paper. His tone was frosty when he said, "Since when is it any of your business?"

Belinda looked a little cowed by his tone, but she recovered quickly. "It's not. I'm just disappointed, I guess. All of us romantics always thought you and Pansy would make it. But if you've fallen in love with that girl, then I guess it was never meant to be."

Raquel choked on her pumpkin juice just as Theodore barked out a surprised laugh. Pansy heard someone gasp, but she couldn't look at them, because she was frozen. She couldn't breathe. Belinda had just stuck a knife in her chest.

Draco smacked his paper so hard onto the table that everyone jumped. He stood and glared imperiously down at her as if he could smite her with the power of his stare. Pansy couldn't remember the last time she had seen him so angry. "Oakley," he hissed, "you will shut your stupid mouth about things you know nothing about."

Belinda stared up at him with her mouth hanging open.

"Crabbe. Goyle."

Crabbe and Goyle needed no further direction, though Crabbe grabbed a muffin before he scuttled off after Draco. They left the Great Hall, and Pansy was fairly certain that the door would have been slammed after them in true melodramatic fashion if the door weren't too large and heavy for the gesture. Any other time, and she would have been amused.

"Nice going, Oakley," Blaise said. Unlike Pansy, she did look amused. "He's probably going to have a good cry now."

Belinda muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, "Shove it, Zabini."

"What was that?" Blaise asked, looking far more dangerous than she had a moment before.

"Really, ladies," Theodore drawled. "Can't we ever have a civilized meal?" He still had pumpkin juice stains on his tie.

"Shut up," Blaise told him, "and find yourself a napkin. While you're at it, why don't you find one for Oakley, too, so that she can wipe up her pride?"

Belinda smacked her wand down on the table. "Bitch, I'll show you pride--"

"Oh, Belinda?" Pansy said suddenly, interrupting them.

She received a suspicious look. "What?"

"I just noticed what a lovely new hat you're wearing," she said sweetly, indicating to the black beret on her head. "Not everyone can pull off that style." She pointedly adjusted her own hat. "Oh, but don't worry! It doesn't make your head look fat at all."

Belinda's hand jerked instinctively to her head before she caught herself. She gave Pansy a furious look.

Satisfied, Pansy shoved a big forkful of eggs into her mouth and proceeded to enjoy the rest of her breakfast.

* * *

Disentangling her life from Draco's proved to be easier said than done.

Meals aside, they also shared most of their classes, had the same friends, and lived in the same dungeon. They didn't speak to each other, but they were forced to physically be together far more than Pansy guessed either of them would have liked. It wasn't fair, and it definitely wasn't easy. But she had asked him to give her space, and now she had no choice but to allow him to concede it. So manage they did. If one of them was in the room, then the other found somewhere else to be. She spent a lot of time in her room painting sad pictures full of doom and gloom. They laughed at separate jokes, mocked different people, and avoided all direct contact. When Draco went right, Pansy went left.

When Advanced Potions rolled around, Pansy took the initiative herself and chose a seat on the opposite side of the room from her usual seat beside Draco. If he had a reaction to her move, then she never saw it because she didn't turn to look at him once throughout the class. Professor Snape raised an eyebrow at her, but he didn't say anything in front of the other students. She made a mental note to avoid him in case he wanted to ask her about what was going on.

This class was the hardest for her because it was the only one they shared without anyone else from their year. Once her favorite subject, Advanced Potions now felt unbearably long and lonely. However, she knew she could adjust, given time. At least, she felt confident in that idea until Draco finally cornered her after class after exactly 2 weeks, 336 hours, 20,160 minutes, and 1,209,600 seconds of not speaking. Give or take. Not that she was counting or anything.

They regarded one another silently as the other students filed out of class. The other students might as well have been shadows for all Pansy noticed them.

"So, this is how it's going to be?" he asked, voice soft and meant only for her.

Pansy swallowed around the enormous lump in her throat. For all her bravado, she felt the weight of every one of those seconds, minutes, hours, and weeks just then. In that precarious moment, she almost gave in and called the whole thing off, almost allowed everything to slip right back to the way things used to be. She even opened her mouth to offer up surrender.

But he was standing so close to her that she couldn't help but be reminded of being pressed against him in the snow while she more or less begged him to love her. Couldn't help but be reminded that he walked away.

And she couldn't do it. Pansy steeled herself and stepped back from him. "I'm sorry" was all she said. She meant it.

Draco sighed. He didn't push her. He just left the classroom. She gave herself a collecting moment before following him.

But she only made it as far as the doorway before she was struck still again.

At the end of the corridor, Draco had met Padma. Pansy watched as they spoke quietly to one another, Draco's head bent low to hers. Pansy had no way of knowing what they were saying to each other, but there was no denying that she was witnessing an intimate moment between two people who didn't seem to notice they were standing in the middle of a crowded corridor. And then Padma smiled and tucked her hand into his.

Pansy was so overtaken by debilitating nausea that she didn't realize Padma had spotted her until the girl abruptly jerked her hand out of Draco's hold. She made a startled noise that sounded like, "Oh."

Draco turned to look back at her, and that's when Pansy turned and ran. Later, she would lament making such a pride-less exit, but just then, she needed nothing more in the world than to get as far away from Draco Malfoy as possible.

She ran without direction in mind, but she still wasn't surprised to come upon the familiar, narrow staircase to the Astronomy Tower. She took the steps two at a time, barely bothering to watch her balance as she went.

A freezing blast of wind met her as she yanked the door open to the outdoor observatory. The snow had yet to melt from the grounds, and the sky was a murky gray. She paid the cold no heed as she stomped up the short staircase to the open-air balcony with so much momentum that only the guardrail kept her from going over the side when she crashed into it.

Pansy clasped both hands over her mouth to stifle the traitorous sob she felt bubbling up behind the tightening of her throat and the burning of her eyes. She couldn't cry. Not now, not again. No, not even in the face of such stark defeat. But it hurt. It hurt so much worse than anything she had ever felt before.

Her mother's voice echoed in her head.

The same night Draco had left her standing alone in the snow, her mother came back from an evening with Carradine Bulstrode sloshed out of her mind and barely coherent. She still managed to find her way into Pansy's room. Stinking of alcohol and wearing a blissful, vacant expression, she danced around Pansy's room, bumping into things and singing songs only she could understand.

Pansy did her best to herd her mother out of her bedroom, but Violet merely twisted around and got her arms around her daughter's neck. Even up close as they were, she didn't seem to notice Pansy's swollen red eyes or downturned mouth. Rather, she laughed. Her hot, tainted breath hit Pansy's cheek as she leaned in and released the only decipherable words she'd spoken since coming into the room.

"Now's the time," her mother whispered into her ear. "Cast your net for Malfoy. He's ripe for it, Pansy, I can tell. And you'll never have to degrade yourself like I just did. No more of your silly games!" She then proceeded to pass out on Pansy's bed, which forced her to seek out the comfortable sofa in her father's study for the night.

Now, Pansy managed to swallow down the sob, but some stray tears still slid down her cheeks. They froze about halfway down. Her mother, who had no way of knowing that Pansy had already cast her neck and come back empty, was a hapless twit. Why did she ever listen to anything she had to say? She never would again, that was for sure.

Pansy took several gulping breaths to calm herself down. All evidence to the contrary, she wasn't this girl. She wasn't the pathetic girl who cried alone in the Astronomy Tower because the boy she loved wanted someone else. No, this was the way of fools like Lisa Turpin or Mandy Brocklehurst. Pansy hadn't sunk so low yet.

But you're still here, said a voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Blaise. And you're still crying, Parkinson. "Stop it," she mumbled, angrily rubbing the frozen tear tracks away. "Just stop it right now. He's not worth it."

Some part of her knew that, really, but it was hard to differentiate that part from the part that had loved Draco almost all her life. He was her best friend before he was anything else, even in fantasy. She couldn't imagine anyone ever truly knowing her the way he did. She didn't care what any stupid Zabini voice had to say about that, because she thought it had to be special, a connection like that.

Her pity party was interrupted by a creak of the door.

For a brief moment, she thought it would be Draco. It wasn't.

It was Padma.

Pansy's position at the guardrail was protectively shielded from Padma's view by an enormous, rotating model of the solar system. The sun was also beginning to pull its rays from the room because winter days were only a fraction of the length of their endless summer counterparts. If she held herself perfectly still, then she could have blended in with the scenery. Shrouded in shadow, Pansy watched Padma shift uncomfortably in the doorway as she scanned the room for her.

"Pansy?" she called, sounding unsure. Nervous.

Pansy gave herself a moment to enjoy feeling like a cat stalking unsuspecting prey. From her strategic position, she could have hexed Padma to her heart's content, and no one would ever know-- not even Padma for sure. It was a nice feeling. Made her feel better.

She finally stepped between a golden Mars and Jupiter and glared down at her mouse.

"You're looking for me?"

Padma jumped in surprise. "Oh! You scared me."

She moved out of the way of the rotating planets but kept her high ground over Padma. "How did you know I was up here?"

"When we were kids, whenever you were upset you used to climb as high as you could in that old elm by your house, remember? This tower is about as high as you can climb in this school."

Padma smiled, inviting Pansy to smile with her over shared childhood memories. She waited in vain.

"What do you want, Patil?" she asked, voice as cold as her expression. "And speak quickly."

To her credit, Padma didn't look particularly surprised. "Always the hard way, Pansy?" she said ruefully. "I guess some things never change."

Pansy just waited. There was only one possible reason for why Patil would want to speak to her, and Pansy would be damned if she were going to make this easy for her.

Padma took her time getting around to it. She fidgeted and averted her eyes as she transparently attempted to build up her nerve for this conversation.

Pansy rolled her eyes with theatrical impatience as she descended the short staircase to Padma's level. "I said to speak quickly. You have something to say to me or not? No?" She didn't wait for a response and instead kept walking straight for the door.

"Wait!" Padma cried. She reached out as if to catch her arm. Pansy dodged her, and Padma quickly lifted her hands in surrender. "All right, all right. Can we just talk for a moment?"

"And what would we have to talk about? More stories from a misspent youth?"

"No," she said uncomfortably. "I want to talk about... Well..."

"Yes?" she demanded, pressing in on her. Padma's mouth worked open and closed like a gaping fish, and Pansy pressed her further. "Come on, spit it out, Patil. I don't have all day--"

"Malfoy, all right?" she exploded, jerking backwards to get away from her. "I want to talk about Malfoy."

Pansy felt a bitter smile spread across her face. About time. "Now, why would you possibly want to talk about him with me?" The answer was obvious, but she wanted to hear Patil actually say it.

"I don't want to step on anybody's toes, least of all yours. I wanted to ask you, face to face, what kind of relationship you have with him. I keep hearing conflicting ideas."

Pansy didn't doubt that. "Why don't you ask him?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Padma blushed. "Oh, I did. It's just... You can't-- I mean I can't--"

"Trust him?"

Padma nodded, though she had the decency to look embarrassed.

Pansy knew better than to ask, but she couldn't help herself. "What did he tell you?" And was it before or after Pansy and Draco had their little talk in the snow?

"That you were just friends."

She wasn't going to waste time feeling disappointed.

A strange expression flitted across Padma's face. "But the way he talks about you..."

Pansy's breath caught as Padma dropped her gaze to her wringing hands. "It's not the way a friend talks about another friend," she said softly.

Pansy didn't even want to think about Draco and Padma talking about her. She couldn't.

"What are you asking me? If he was telling the truth?" Pansy shook her head in disgust. "And then what? I tell you what you want to hear, and then you and Malfoy prance off into the sunset together?"

Padma grimaced. "That's not..."

"Yes," she snapped. "It is. But what if I told you a different story?"

Padma's eyes widened, and Pansy barked out a cruel laugh. "Oh, come now. You wouldn't be that surprised, would you? You came all the way up here to-- what? Get my permission? But you wouldn't have done that unless you had an inkling that maybe he was lying about us."

She expected Padma to back down, to run away like a scared, little mouse, but she met Pansy's stare head-on without flinching. "That's right," she said, voice steady. "I had an inkling, and that's why I'm here."

Much as she had suffered over this, Pansy had strangely never considered what specifically it was about Padma that attracted Draco. She wondered if this was it, the defiant gleam in those pretty eyes. She remembered the look on Draco's face after she slapped him in the library. Ambitious. Hungry.

Pansy felt a painful squeeze in the center of her chest. He never needed ambition to get her, not when she never put up any fight whatsoever. Her first mistake, or just the worst in an otherwise long list?

"I thought you were supposed to be the smart twin," she snarled.

"What?" Padma asked, frowning.

Frustration made her want to tug out clumps of her own hair. She settled for digging her nails into her palms. "You're supposed to be smart, but you fall for the same shite as all the others. You know what he is. You had a front row seat to the disaster show he made of your own roommates. Yet, here you are anyway!" she cried. "But Ravenclaws are so smart."

"Are we still talking about me here?" Padma asked. "What do you see in him? If you're so much smarter than the rest of us, and you know what he does, then why are we even having this conversation, Pansy? Why do you still follow him around like a puppy dog?"

Pansy almost struck her-- she could almost feel the satisfying crunch of Padma's perfect teeth under her fist. And, oh, she wanted to. But she couldn't.

Because the little bitch was right.

She managed to unclench her fists from her sides, but she re-crossed her arms to avoid the temptation of reaching into her pocket for her wand.

"Worry about yourself, Patil," she said, turning to leave. If she didn't leave now, then she couldn't be held responsible for what might happen.

"Pansy, wait!"

She managed to grab Pansy's sleeve that time while she was too distracted to dodge her. Padma's expression was contrite. "I didn't come up here to fight. Look, we used to be friends--"

Enough was enough. Pansy's arms snapped out and shoved her-- hard. Unprepared, Padma stumbled back against the wall. Her head cracked audibly against the stone. There wasn't time to orient herself before Pansy was advancing on her. Padma instinctively tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go except against the wall. Pansy greedily drank in the panicked expression on her face as she blocked the possibility of a sidestep with an arm on each side of her head.

"What are you doing?" she asked anxiously. Padma's eyes flitted from side to side and then back again to Pansy as she searched for an escape. For some reason, Pansy was reminded of a butterfly she had once seen trapped under a glass just before her grandfather stuck pins through its wings for display purposes.

Pansy had some height on her, and she used every inch to loom at her most menacing as she said, "I'm just curious to know what were you expecting from this little vis-à-vis. Did you think that you would earn a pat on the head for doing 'the right thing' and coming to me before you let Draco lift your skirt?"

Padma gasped. "How dare you--"

"Save it, Patil," Pansy snarled into her face. "You aren't fooling anyone. You weren't thinking of me when you snogged Draco in front of the entire school at that Quidditch match. Nor," she stressed, "were you thinking of me when you swapped your pathetic love notes over the holiday-- yeah, I know about those. He told me, Patil. He bragged about how you were finally cracking. Just like all the others."

She wanted to see Padma cry, wanted to witness a breakdown that resembled her own. Most of all, she wanted to be the reason.

But Padma didn't cry. Her eyes were bright, but she didn't cry. She stared at her for a long time, and then she did the last thing Pansy would have expected. She cupped Pansy's face in her hands and kissed her forehead.

It was such an unexpected move that she could do nothing but stare in stunned silence until she remembered herself and stumbled back. "What is wrong with you?"

Padma shook her head sadly. "I am so sorry, Pansy. I didn't know. I wondered, but I didn't really know."

"What are you rambling about?"

"You love him."

With her hands clasped in front of her and her expression looking so genuinely sorrowful, Padma looked just like one of those Madonna paintings Pansy had seen in her art books. The patient, benevolent mother. And it was Pansy's turn to feel disoriented.

"Where did that come from?" she asked, though she couldn't have explained to what she was referring just then.

"I understand now why you'd be so confused," Padma said gently. "Most of the time, he's horrid. The way he treats people... He can be unforgivably rude and cruel. The things that come out of his mouth sometimes..."

"All true so far," Pansy said, though her words lacked their previous bite. She had a bad feeling about where this was going.

As though she didn't even hear her, Padma's gaze seemed to slide somewhere beyond Pansy as a dreamy expression came over her face. "But then there's that other part of him. The depth he hides from the world because he thinks he has to be hard. He's actually really sensitive... and passionate." Her cheeks flushed with a girlish blush. "I think people miss how brilliant he is because they're distracted by his arrogance. Did you know that he's read all the great wizard philosophers? And that he loves art history?"

Draco didn't love art history. He humored Pansy's love of art because it made her happy, and he completely disregarded all Muggle contributions to the field. If he were able to carry on a conversation about art history, then it was due to Pansy talking his ear off.

Under typical circumstances, Pansy would have been outraged that someone would have the audacity to assume they knew Draco Malfoy better than she did. No one ever could. She knew that much. Padma was clearly spinning herself a romantic delusion staring her and Draco as the star-crossed lovers. Just like all the others. In all ways except for the gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her this was different. It was the same feeling she had at the Quidditch game when Draco gave Padma her snitch.

Draco might have lied about liking art history, but he also violated a sacred tradition between them so that he could kiss her that day. And he took Padma's hand in that crowded corridor after walking away from her mere moments before. He exchanged letters with her over Christmas. He chased after her with the same single-minded drive he devoted to everything he did, but he didn't lose interest after he caught her-- as he usually did.

She didn't understand how any of this had happened. One minute, she was planning her own private wing at Malfoy Manor, and then, all of a sudden, there was Padma Patil taking everything away.

They were finished. Merlin, they really were.

All of the anger immediately drained out of her.

Padma was still talking. "He postures for you people, but he can talk about those things with me."

"Because we just grunt at each other in my house," Pansy croaked. She had to get out of there. This was too much to deal with in front of an audience.

"That's not what I meant."

Pansy began backing away towards the door. Padma had won this battle and probably even the war, but she tossed out one last parting shot. "You can have him," she told her, "but you'll never really have him. Because you'll never know him. He won't let you."

There was only pity in her expression. "I already do."

* * *

A lot of things began to click for Pansy over the next few days. For instance, she realized that she didn't need Draco after all to keep her status as queen bee. For all of her pessimism, it turned out that she only really needed herself. Taking her frustrations out on everyone around her, she was meaner, scarier, and more formidable than she had ever been. She barked at anyone and everyone, made cruel jibes at other's expense, and even made a few girls cry.

She felt fantastic. Renewed.

People began to move out of her way in the corridors. Fear gave her the respect she had been denied when everyone thought she was Draco's lovelorn slave. Oh, and speaking of lovelorn slaves...

Pansy spotted Padma just as she was coming out of a class. The other girl was too busy fusing with her book bag to see Pansy approaching. That was a mistake. She glanced up just as Pansy's shoulder collided against hers, sending her books and parchments flying. Shocked, Padma clutched her bruised arm and gaped at her fallen things.

Pansy waited until she had Padma's full attention and then she smirked at her. "Oops," she said, not bothering to sound sincere. She recalled thinking once that competition against Ravenclaw felt healthy. Well, that wasn't the case anymore, but it was certainly fun.

She heard Blaise's laugh before she actually saw her. Slinking forward, she slid her arm through Pansy's and said, "I think you've dropped something, Patil."

Padma seemed to have been struck speechless, but two of her friends came to her aid. "Ignore them," said a girl Pansy didn't recognize. She glared at Pansy as she bent to help pick up Padma's things. "They're not worth it."

But Pansy was beyond the point of being shamed. Their hatred just fueled her fire, because they were powerless against her. Pansy could do this, and there wasn't anything they could do about it other than to run tattling to a professor. And what could they do beyond taking a few house points away? See how Draco liked having his new pet treated like the vermin he always claimed blood traitors like the Patil family were.

"Careful, dear," Pansy told her. "Someone might step on all your hard work."

Pansy brought her foot down on what looked like a painstakingly crafted essay and twisted her foot so that the parchment tore in half. Padma gasped just as Blaise let out another delighted laugh. Still arm-in-arm, she and Pansy pranced away, their shoes leaving dirty marks all over Padma's things.

"Oh, Pansy, I've missed you," Blaise purred.

She didn't know how to respond to that, but Pansy thought she understood what Blaise meant. It felt good to hurt someone else again. She missed this. Missed herself. She had let all this drama about Draco and Dean derail her.

Powerful. Cruel. Confident. Pansy Parkinson. That was who she was. Together with Blaise, they were a force to be reckoned with. There was a reason they were at the top of the pack. The Pansy of yore wouldn't have recognized the emotional mess she'd become lately. Maybe it was time to right that.

She was still riding the high when she blindsided Dean as he was leaving a class. One minute he was walking in the corridor, and then the next, he was shoved into an empty classroom. "What the--"

He barely had time to right himself before Pansy was on him. She shoved him up against a desk and gave his tie a hard yank to bring his face down to eye-level.

"Hello, Thomas," she breathed against his mouth, and then she kissed him. Draco didn't want her, but Dean Thomas did, and Pansy was sure as hell going to enjoy him now without ever feeling guilty for it ever again.

Dean was too surprised to really kiss her back, and after a moment, he managed to push her away. "What are you doing?"

She wiped her mouth off on her sleeve. "What does it look like?"

Dean shook his head. "What has gotten into you lately?"

Pansy ran a hand up his arm and smiled as seductively as she could manage. "Do you really want to talk or isn't there something else we could be doing right about now?"

Unfazed, Dean pulled his arm away. "I saw what you did earlier today. How could you do that to Padma?"

Pansy was starting to get annoyed. He was ruining everything. All she wanted to do was have an illicit snog in a classroom, and he wouldn't shut up. "Can I not go five minutes without talking about her?" she growled.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking concerned. "Did something happen? Is it... Malfoy again?" The name seemed to leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

Pansy bowed her head and made a noise that sounded like a sob.

"Oh, Pansy," Dean said, coming towards her. But when he reached out to hold her, Pansy shoved him back with all her might. Caught off guard, Dean stumbled back and half-fell into a chair in an effort to keep himself from hitting the ground. He gave her an astonished look. "What the hell?"

Smirking, she followed him to the chair and straddled his lap. Dean gasped in surprise. "Pansy!"

She laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I like it when you say my name, Dean."

He looked everywhere but directly at her. "What are you doing?" he squeaked.

"Showing you."

That got his attention. "Showing me what?"

The last time Pansy had done this, she had been proving a point to Draco. This was no different.

Her breath brushed his face as she leaned in close. "You know, it occurred to me just now that you don't know a thing about me. Not. A. Thing." He tried to protest, but she covered his mouth with her hand. "You have no idea what it is that I do, or think, or feel. But you think that you do, and that's just not on. Because you're wrong."

She kissed him again, and this time, Dean kissed her back. She felt his arms awkwardly curl around her and, knowing she had won, she smiled triumphantly against his lips and then pulled away.

"But I'm starting to think I've figured out my appeal to you," she said. "You like bad girls, don't you, Dean?"

He sputtered. "Wha..."

"You do. And I think it's time I showed you what bad girls can do."

* * *