Hands

Pansy Parkinson looked down boredly at the desk in front of her and rolled her eyes. Professor Flitwick was near-sighted, and they had this class, at least, without any of the other Houses, which meant she could let the simpering facade slip. She sighed and tossed her head. Each and every one of her Housemates had some facade as well, but most of them had ones that still allowed them to appeared interested in coursework. She, on the other hand, had been cast early on as the simpering idiot, the hanger-on, the boy-chaser. She allowed herself to smile at the irony of the last adjective.

But then, Draco had upset the balance within Slytherin the previous year. He had assembled all twenty-eight Slytherins of their yeargroup, and let them know that he had changed the rules for himself. Outwardly, he had said, things would remain much the same. But within the House, things had changed. This meant change for all of them, but mostly for Pansy.

Pansy was calculating. Her Slytherin qualities were her cunning, and her ability to plan even very detailed events. It was generally assumed within Slytherin that she was the cream of the crop as far as future wives went, and her name seemed inextricably linked with Draco's, who was the heir apparent to carry the name of Slytherin forward. Even her own Housemates had not known how to treat her after Draco's announcement. After all, she couldn't expect to marry him now, not after he had just informed them all that he was gay, and was seeing Harry Potter secretly. At first there were a few comments made about maintaining appearances before Draco ruthlessly set them straight. It was to be a secret only until they left Hogwarts. After that, neither boy would make any attempt to conceal the relationship.

Pansy had simply sat, cold water washing over her. It wasn't that she loved Draco Malfoy; no, she had accepted long ago that theirs would be a marriage of two friends at best, sex performed for the sole purpose of producing a heir. But for all that, it had been her future, her place, and her role to play. Long after Draco left them all stunned, long after Crabbe and Goyle had wandered off to play Exploding Snap, and long after Millicent had disappeared to meet with the Ravenclaw boy she was currently toying with, Pansy had simply sat perched on the leather couch, staring into the cold fire. When she rose two hours later, she had gone straight to her desk in the dormitory. She had retrieved several books and a sheaf of parchment, as well as a brand-new quill and bottle of ink, then before retreating to the library. She had coerced a house-elf, en route to the stacks, to deliver her lunch to her in the library, and she had eaten there, hardly noticing the tastes as she read, wrote, and most of all, planned.

Even Millicent had stepped cautiously around Pansy for the weeks following Draco's unusual announcement, but Pansy never mentioned it again to anyone in her House. She had continued to spend large amounts of time hidden in the stacks of the library, recharting her life's course. She had visited Professor Snape after hours, seeking assistance with her applications for post-Hogwarts instruction. And no one had noticed.

Nearly no one, anyway.

Hermione Granger sighed as the rest of the class practised the newest bit of Transfiguration, one she had mastered over the summer. She tapped her fingernails on the knotted wood of the desk in front of her, casting sidelong glances at the two boys who surrounded her like bookends. On the one side, Ron, who had never asked her out during their fifth year, because it was apparently so obvious to him that Hermione fancied Harry. Ron had been with Lavender now for nearly two years, and Lavender had woken the tower with her squeals three nights before when she returned from a date with Ron - he had proposed. And on the other side, Harry, whom Hermione had fancied. In truth, everyone had assumed that Harry and Hermione were a couple, even Hermione, though Harry never gave any real indication that he felt that way. Indeed, Hermione thought dryly, he always had been , the perfect friend - nothing less, and nothing more. Still, she had been unprepared for the day last year when Harry had requested that she and Ron accompany him on a long walk around the lake. She had thought nothing of the sight of Draco Malfoy leading all of his Slytherin year mates into the dungeons. And she had been totally unprepared for Harry's announcement that he was in love with said Draco Malfoy.

Ron had reacted somewhat predictably, yelling at Harry for a good ten minutes before calming down and listening to what Harry said. Hermione had been stunned into silence, unsure as to what she should say or do. By the time she had started to regain her voice, a blonde figure had appeared in the distance, walking swiftly towards them and kissing Harry thoroughly. Harry had arranged with Dobby for the four of them to eat lunch together, a picnic. And the comments that had been on the tip of Hermione's tongue had never been said.

She had retreated to her usual ways, all too aware that to the rest of the school she was at least semi-claimed as Harry's girlfriend. She had found solace in the library, in the familiar books, full of familiar works. She had revisited childhood favorites that she requested her parents send her. She had discovered new Muggle works, and found that the wizarding world had a proud narrative tradition encompassing many authors who had also found fame in the Muggle world.

And she had noticed another inhabitant of the library - Pansy Parkinson.

Pansy was guilty of many things in her life, and she was definitely guilty of letting her mind wander while she sat in Charms, letting it wonder back nearly a year, to the first time she had ever had anything approaching a civil conversation with Hermione Granger.

It was nearly a month after the twin announcements, and final exams were only two weeks away the day that Hermione had pulled up her courage and sat down across from Pansy. The other girl continued to write in silence for several moments before looking up, startlement crossing her face only briefly before she wrestled her facial expressions back under control. "Granger, get out of that chair. I don't want to see you."

Hermione shook her head slowly. "No. I want to talk to you."

"What makes you think I want to talk to you, Mudblood? Go back to your tower."

Hermione's blood seethed, but she maintained her gaze, locking her brown eyes with Pansy's hazel. "You will talk to me, because we have something in common. A situation, if you will."

Pansy slowly set the quill down, capped her ink bottle (hot pink), and blew on her parchment to dry it before placing it into a large folder. That done, she crossed her arms on the blank parchment still in front of her and almost unconsciously straightened her robe, fingering the Slytherin crest absently. "I suppose you mean Draco and Potter."

"I do," Hermione answered, lips pursed. "I can't imagine you were pleased." She leant forward. "Would it have anything to do with your newly-found studiousness?"

Pansy narrowed her eyes and cursed lightly under ther breath. "I should have known that you would have noticed, Granger." She tapped her pink lacquered fingernails on the table, thinking. "So why do you want to talk to me, again?"

"Because whatever you feel or felt for Malfoy, you were thrown for a loop just as much as I was."

"And why would I want to discuss this with you, or any Gryffindor for that matter?" Pansy sneered, hands already reaching to open the book she had been reading.

"There's no one else for you to discuss it with, I'd wager," Hermione said with a small shrug. She started to stand. "But I'll leave you, then, if you want to continue denying it." Hermione had started to walk away and had nearly disappeared back into the stacks before Pansy found her voice.

"Wait," she said scowling. "Just... wait." Hermione turned around and sat down once more, this time in the seat next to Pansy. "What do you want?"

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "I told you. To talk."

Pansy nodded slowly. "All right. But not now. Tomorrow, maybe, after dinner."

Pansy shook her head as the memory cleared and she was brought back into the present by Professor Flitwick's shrill insistence that each of them practise the new charm. Pansy picked up her wand - rosewood, ten inches, with a hair from a unicorn's mane as the core - and duly performed the new material. Impatiently, she checked her watch. Good, only ten more minutes, and then classes were over for the day. She had a study date, and she hadn't seen her girlfriend alone for nearly three days.

Pansy chuckled to herself. Girlfriend. I guess you could say Draco turned me queer. She tossed her head impatiently as Blaise dropped something and had to pick it up, right in the doorway, blocking the remaining students in the classroom. Then Millicent tried to pull her into a study session for Divination. Pansy wanted to roll her eyes. Divination. Oh, she agreed with Hermione on that subject, but she was supposed to appear to love it. She begged off, and then ducked into the nearest of the passageways that would connect her with the library. Finally, finally, she reached the library, and wound her way quickly to the study room that was set aside for the Head Students. Draco never used it, though, which meant Hermione - and, therefore, Pansy - essentially could use it whenever they wanted, for whatever they wanted. Not, reflected Pansy ruefully, that that happens often. Hermione's still a bit too much the Head Girl at times.

"You're late." Hermione's soft voice interrupted her reverie, but it was free of reproach. Pansy sighed but smiled a bit wryly, locking the door behind her and removing her robes. "I know. I'm sorry. First Zabini clogged up the doorway, then Millicent wanted to have a seance or something." Both girls laughed, and Pansy quickly crossed the room and bent down, kissing the other girl tenderly but lingeringly.

"I missed you," Pansy admitted softly as she settled into the chair directly beside Hermione, and pulled out her Transfiguation text. "And we have entirely too much work to wade through before the N.E.W.T.s next month."

Hermione groaned. "Don't remind me, Pans! And heaven knows that Ron will turn up one week out in a panic, wanting help from me." She rolled her eyes. "At least Harry whinges to Malfoy now."

Pansy snickered but said nothing, just leaning into the brown-haired girl's side comfortably. Theirs was a difficult relationship, first based primarily on shared disappointments, but then Pansy had invited Hermione to visit part of the previous summer, and had given the Muggle-born witch a whirlwind introduction to the traditional, upper-crust wizarding world that Pansy inhabited. Over the course of that month, each of them had slowly but irreversibly fallen in love with the other. Love, however, didn't mean the erasure of their vast differences, and they still continued to clash horribly at times, though the frequency was, finally and mercifully, beginning to wane.

"I received my letter this morning," Pansy said suddenly. "From Stonehenge. I haven't opened it yet. Did you get yours?"

Hermione nodded nervously, licking her lips, and pulled out an envelope from her schoolbag. Both girls had applied to further their magical education at the Stonehenge Center for Advanced Studies, though in different areas - Hermione in spellbuilding, and Pansy in magical nursing. Pansy's letter joined hers on the table, and suddenly the Slytherin girl switched the two. "You open mine. I'm too nervous. And I'll open yours."

Hermione looked startled, but quickly acquiesced, and the two tore into their letters. Pansy squealed. "You got in, honey! I knew you would!" She threw her arms around the startled Head Girl, who was beaming.

"And so did you!" They giggled. "We're going to Stonehenge. We're going to Stonehenge!" Hermione's shoulders had sagged in relief, and they exchanged their letters back again. Hermione flipped through her parchments as Pansy watched amusedly. "Look. We're to fill out this form and return it." She skimmed it, then looked up, eyes gleaming. "We can request a roommate."

Pansy blinked, then allowed herself to smile. "Are you asking me to be your roommate, Ms. Granger?"

"Why yes, Ms. Parkinson, I believe I am. What is your answer?"

Pansy grinned. "Yes, of course."

A week later, Slytherin was holding a House meeting, and the common room was in chaos as the assembled students waited for Professor Snape to arrive and start the meetng.

"Professor Snape will be announcing what we're all doing next year during the meeting," Millicent commented. "I know what the other girls are doing, but none of the boys have said, and neither have you, Pansy."

Pansy sighed and rolled her eyes. "You could just wait the remaining fifteen minutes."

"I could," Millicent acknowledged with a shrug, "but I don't want to."

"Very well," Pansy replied dryly. "I've been accepted at Stonehenge. Magical nursing."

The other girl's eyebrows shot upwards. "Really? You should have said something. Rebecca Moon was looking for a roommate. She's going into spellbuilding."

"Ah," Pansy said faintly. "No matter. I already have my roommate situation taken care of. She's going to be in the spellbuilding program as well, as a matter of fact." She smiled brilliantly at Millicent, turning on all the charm that she had perfected during the long years in the dungeons. "What about you, dear? I admit, my head's been in the clouds, what with studying and prefect duties, and I haven't heard a thing."

Millicent blinked and smiled weakly. "Oh, I'm just going to work in the Ministry."

"Really? That's impressive, Millie." Pansy knew the other girl hated any nicknames, and Pansy was beginning to relish the idea of dropping the simpering facade completely very shortly. "What division?"

"Security," she grumbled, looking down, embarrassed, at the floor.

Pansy bit back a smile. Millicent Bulstrode was going to be a common security guard? If Professor Snape hadn't entered just then, Pansy would have probably broken out into gales of full-blown laughter.

"Good evening, Slytherin," the Potions Master said in his deceptively calm voice. "Tonight we will recognise the achievements and future plans of our seventh years, beginning with our Head Boy, Draco Malfoy. Draco, would you please stand up?" There was no movement. "Draco?"

At that moment, the door opened once more, and Draco rushed in, face slightly flushed and hair, in a most out-of-character manner, slightly askew. He stopped short, breathing hard. "Sorry, Professor. Lost track of time."

"Indeed," Professor Snape drawled. "Indeed. Well, Mr. Malfoy, I was just about to report to your House mates of your impressive appointment at the Rhine Institute. Would you like to tell them what you will be studying?"

Draco shrugged. "It's not easy to explain, sir. The research team is working on ways to integrate several magical fields into cohesive wholes, in order to strengthen the magic and amplify its effects. It's a form of spellbuilding, I suppose, though it involves more than that."

Pansy wasn't surprised that Draco was doing something totally original, but she was surprised when Blaise Zabini dared to yell out a question to Slytherin's leader and mouthpiece. "And what about your other half?"

The seventh years took a collective breath inwards. Draco had never spoken of his relationship with Harry Potter again after that day the year before, and certainly none of the lower forms knew of it. Pansy even doubted that Professor Snape was aware of it, from the slightly confused look he was now sporting.

Draco scowled, turning the full face of his wrath on other boy. "I hardly see where that's any of your concern, Zabini, but I'm hardly the only new student that the Rhine is admitting."

The room erupted in a low buzz, the first six years wondering desperately who Draco was talking about, and the seventh years gossiping about the pair. Professor Snape held up his hand. "Silence!" he commanded. "Let us carry on."

Pansy listened dutifully as Millicent's new position was announced. She would be joined, apparently, by Crabbe as well. Then Pansy allowed her mind to wander, until her own name. "Ms. Parkinson?" She stood, smiling charmingly. "Pansy Parkinson has been accepted into the Stonehenge Center for Advanced Studies, where she will be studying magical nursing." There was a stunned silence, and Draco turned his head to look appraisingly at her - and winked. Pansy blinked, then flushed as he discreetly yet knowingly tapped the side of his neck. Once she sat down, she reached up to her own neck tenatively. She cursed when she released that Hermione had left, for lack of a better term, a token of her affection.

When Blaise Zabini had his future plans announced at last - apparently, he was going to be 'travelling,' a commone euphemism among purebloods for younger sons just waiting to take over the family business - the students began to move around, talking quietly and congratulating the seventh years. Draco approached Pansy and pulled her to the side. "You're getting rather indiscreet, there, Pansy-girl. So who's the lucky guy?"

Pansy smiled at her friend ruefully. "Draco, Draco. Always thinking inside the box. You aren't the only oddball, you know."

She was irrationally pleased with the stunned look on his face, as he stepped back slightly, blinking. "Well then. Who's the lucky girl?" he asked a moment later, his voice dropped even lower.

"It's your fault, Draco." She chuckled softly. "Yours and Potters. We didn't know quite what to do with ourselves." Draco's mouth fell open. "And then you never use the library room. Quite nice of you, really."

The Head Boy was spluttering, a stunned look on his face, and then he began to laugh. He pulled her into a rough hug. "I hope I can be your bridesmaid," he said in a most uncharacteristic giggle, and Pansy laughed as well.

"Only if I'm your best man," she deadpanned.

"You realise I'm going to have to tell Harry about this? He's made enough already that I just ran off in the middle of..."

Pansy snorted indelicately. "Oh, so that's why you were late, was it?" She smiled. "What are the two of you doing over the summer?"

Draco waved his hands nonchalantly. "Harry's refusing to stay with his relatives, though Muggle law says he should until his birthday. So we're going to be hiding from the authorities for the first month." He grinned. "Then, who knows? I'm sure both of us disappearing will set tongues wagging. What about you and Granger?"

Pansy sighed. "I'm trying to convince to come and stay again, but she wants to spend part of the summer with her parents."

"Again?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "Granger was the guest you had last summer?"

"Yes, although we weren't technically together at the beginning of it. We were barely friends, come to think of it. But, yes. Hermione came up for about a month last summer."

"Congratulations, then, Pansy. On both." Draco smiled once more, and then they separated, Millicent pouncing on Pansy just seconds later.

"What was that about? You said something that surprised Draco - more than one thing, even."

Pansy shook her head and smiled, though her lips were pressed together tightly. "That's for me to know, Millie, not you. Don't worry, if it's important, you'll hear about it, I'm sure."

Millicent huffed. "If it's important? How can you not know if something is important or not?"

"It's quite important to me, I suppose, and to Draco, indirectly, but whether or not anyone else really cares quite remains to be seen." She looked up. "It's nearly dinnertime. Coming?"

Millicent nodded, hopping at the unusual offer of companionship from Pansy. The two girls walked quietly through the stone corridors, other small knots of Slytherins both ahead of them and behind. "You never mentioned that you had even applied to Stonehenge, Pansy," Millicent finally remarked quietly.

"I didn't find it necessary," Pansy replied evenly. "But then, I had to make new plans for myself, and rather quickly, didn't I?" The obilque reference was one of the few she had ever made to how Draco's decision to be with Potter had impacted her most of all among her year mates.

"I suppose so," the other girl said slowly, a slight frown creasing her forehead. "May I ask you something, Pansy?" At the answering nod, she went ahead. "How did you feel? I mean, we all assumed that you didn't love him, but still - how did you feel?"

"No, you're quite correct, I did not and do not love him. Draco is a dear friend, but only that." Pansy paused, trying to find the right words. "But my life had been planned a certain way, and it quite abruptly changed. I had to forge a new way forward, but in a strange way, it liberated me as well." Pansy smiled, and dared to trust the girl slightly. "When you think you're going to be married to your friend, you don't allow yourself to fall in love, and you don't plan beyond that. But, Millicent! Love's grand. And so is planning your own life." She grinned widely at her House mate's startled expression, and then they entered the Hall.

Pansy settled herself in a seat facing the Gryffindor table, and noted absently that the rest of the school was rather unobservant. Potter and Hermione always sat in the same spot, facing the Slytherin table, leaving Weasley to sit across from them. Everyone else shifted spots, but the five people who alwasy sat in the same place, except perhaps shifting down a seat or two, were Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, and Draco Malfoy. Pansy stifled a laugh. And Draco was too busy making eyes at Harry to even notice the looks Hermione and I shoot each other.

Pansy looked up and caught Hermione's eye, discreetly gesturing to the hickey on her neck. Hermione's eyes widened and she looked around furtively before mouthing Did anyone see? Pansy nodded, and tilted her head towards Draco, who was currently exchanging wanton glances with Potter. Hermione giggled and blew a small kiss before turning back to her meal.

Pansy woke up early the morning of the Leaving Ball. The N.E.W.T.s were finally over, and all that remained between the seventh years and freedom was a pair of speeches and some dancing. Pansy smiled. She had been up until three a.m. two nights before, listening to Hermione write and re-write her speech. When she had finally slipped out of Hermione's quarters, she had bumped directly into Potter, and they had exchanged wry looks. "Hermione up writing too?" Potter had finally ventured, and Pansy nodded almost imperceptibly in return.

"Yes," she admitted. "Both of them are bloody perfectionists, aren't they?"

Potter had laughed and grinned. "Quite the odd relationships we've got, hmm? Well, see you around."

"See you, Potter."

And he had turned around, smiling. "I'm seeing one of your best friends, you're seeing one of mine - I think we can deal with first names, Pansy."

"Fine, Harry," she had said, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "Good night."

Now it was time for the speeches that the two Head students had oh-so-carefully crafted, and Pansy followed the other Slytherins in, as the seventh year trouped to their assigned places. The rest of the school was already assembled, and Professor Dumbledore stood as Zabini sat, perpetually last.

"Good afternoon," the Headmaster began. "First, we will begin with congratulating those of our students who will be continuing their magical studies." He read a long list of names going to the Diagon Institute, and a somewhat shorter list of those judged good enough to enter Stonehenge, her own name and Hermione's among them. Then the Headmaster smiled proudly. "We have two students who have been honored with acceptances to the pretigious Rhine Institute on the Continent. Both of these students will be joining advanced research teams."

Pansy heard the rest of Slytherin buzzing. Who Draco could possibly be involved with had been a source of much speculation for the other six years in their House, and now the Headmaster had explicitly stated that there were only two students. Pansy snuck a look at Draco, whose eyes had widened slightly as he grimaced.

"Our Head Boy, Mr. Draco Malfoy, will be doing research into combined magical disciplines. Mr. Harry Potter will be joining a team focused on new magical healing methods, in preparation for his medical degree."

Pansy winced as the whispers reached a crescendo, and even heard one of the sixth year boys exclaim violently, "Potter? What the bloody hell, Malfoy?" Draco stared straight ahead, but his cheeks were tinged pink, and Pansy couldn't resist an amused look at Hermione, who was equally trying to contain her mirth. Professor Dumbledore looked about in confusion, and once quiet had been reached again, he continued.

"We will now have a speech from each of our Head students. Ms. Hermione Granger, our Head Girl, will go first." Pansy applauded lightly, all too aware that appearing too enthusiastic could still be a problem. Could be, up until the Ball, when they were free to leave if necessary. She watched Hermione rise, walk up on the raised dais, and pause at the lectern, setting her neat notes on top of it.

"Hello." She smiled nervously. "As certain people can attest, I've been working very hard to get this speech absolutely perfect. Because, after all, isn't perfection what we strive for? Perfection in our schoolwork, or perhaps in our demeanour, how we dress. For some of us, it's perfection in the facade we show to the world, and for others, it's perfection in our sincerity, letting every bit of us show through. But if there's one thing that we can truly take from our years here at Hogwarts, I think it should something different. I think we need to acknowledge that perfection isn't always attainable, and that some of the best moments come from imperfection."

Pansy set back and listened to Hermione's voice as she carefully and calmly presented her speech, not really paying attention ot the details - she had heard them many times over by that point. The rest of her House would surely think it odd for her to be paying attention, though she noted Draco listening thoughtfully. "... so, in conclusion, I urge each of us to pay a little less attention to making everything perfect, and a little more attention to those other times, when we're free of expectations and can leave, for a few moments, our responsibilities. A very good friend of mine told another friend of hers that 'love's grand, and so is planning your own life.' Grandness requires mistakes, though, and failures. In my seven years here, I learned that sometimes, it's all right to fail."

Pansy felt her lips curve into a wide smile, and Millicent, seated in front of her, turned around, fixing her with a stare. "Pansy, you said that to me. Has Granger been spying on us?"

"No, Millie. Don't worry, it'll all make sense in a bit."

"And now, I have the pleasure of introducing our Head Boy, Mr. Draco Malfoy." Hermione stepped away from the lectern as Draco approached, and the pair shook hands. Pansy watched her lips move. "Take care of him, and I'll take care of her." She doubted anyone else had noticed.

Draco strode up to the lectern himself then, smiling charmingly. "Thank you, Hermione." There was a surprised noise from most of the student body - had Draco Malfoy really just called Hermione Granger by her given name? - but Draco continued as if nothing out of the ordinary had been said. "I'm afraid my speech isn't as inspiring. I thought about talking about what we've all learned here, but discarded that speech. I considered speaking about the eventful times we've survived, but that one ended up in the rubbish bin as well. Finally, I even contemplated the idea of chucking the speech altogether, but luckily I was convinced that that action would not go over very well, least of all with the inimitable Ms. Granger." There was some laughter, but the grin on Draco's face was genuine, not mocking. "But, no, I'm going to talk about something else. I'm going to talk about expectations, and judging people." His voice was soft.

"I've made no secrets of my opinion on Muggles throughout the years, and I'll admit that at one time I fostered some rather nasty thoughts on the Muggle-born, which have, for the most part, been tempered. But still, one has certain expectations when you meet someone new. Oh, there's a Gryffindor? Foolhardy idiots. Ravenclaw? Smart, I suppose, but absolutely no practicality. Hufflepuff? Ignored, for the most part. And Slytherin? Oh, we know what you think. Evil, or if not that, sneaky, underhanded, and amoral." Draco sighed and shook his head. "And sometimes an individual person may have a reputation that precedes him or her. Most Malfoys do. There are other families, and other people for whom that's true as well." He didn't name names, but you could follow his gaze as it rested on certain people - Harry, Weasley, the Patil girls, even Susan Bones - and the meaning of his words became abundantly clear.

Still, Pansy didn't really feel like listening to the whole speech. She allowed herself to slump somewhat, and caught Hermione's eye, playing a strange game of glances and flickered eyes, all leading up to the next moment that they were alone. Then Draco's last words caught her attention. "So, in conclusion, to my Housemates, who were earlier questioning my sanity, yes. But the true soul of this talk, the catalyst, is the Shade of my Heart. I love you." Draco stepped away from the lectern and turned on his smile full-blast. Pansy didn't understand the 'Shade of my Heart' reference, but it was certainly poetic. Draco returned to his seat as the hall applauded and younger students began to prod the Slytherins for answers.

Professor Dumbledore stood. "That concludes our speeches, if you would all join us for the Leaving Ball." With a clap of his hands, the chairs disappeared, a dance floor appeared, and music started playing. Pansy shook her robes out, straightening them, and tapped Millicent on the shoulder. "Watch, Millie. You'll get your answers now."

She could feel Millicent's stare on her back as she walked towards the clustered Gryffindors, and Draco fell into step beside her. "Going to dance, then?" he asked, smirking slightly, and Pansy nodded slightly.

"Yes. I didn't realise the two of you planned to dance as well."

He smirked largely then. "Yes. Half of the school must've figured it out by now, I suppose. I didn't realise we were the only two headed to the Rhine."

Pansy giggled, and then they had reached the infamous Gryffindor Trio. Harry and Hermione each smiled, while Weasley merely looked confused. "Hello, Pansy," Harry said pleasantly. Then he turned to his boyfriend and truly smiled. "Want to dance, love?"

Pansy watched them approach the dance floor, silence falling over most of the room. "Blimey," breathed Finnigan, before he wheeled towards Weasley and Hermione. "You knew, Ron?"

Weasley snorted. "Of course." Pansy giggled, and turned to a smiling Hermione.

"I think that's our cue, dear." Ron's jaw dropped open, and Pansy smiled sweetly at him, pointing to Harry and Draco before saying anything further. "Blame them, Weasley." With that, she pulled the Head Girl into her arms and onto the dance floor. They danced in silence, smiling at each other slightly, for the majority of the song. Finally Pansy spoke again. "Have you decided about the summer?"

Hermione nodded soberly. "Yes, I have."

"And?" Pansy prodded.

"It wasn't all that difficult, really," Hermione elaborated, "especially since my parents refused to let you even visit for a day if I went home. So, do you mind if I just leave with you tomorrow morning?"

Pansy grinned and kissed her briefly. "Not at all, dear. What do you mean that your parents wouldn't let me visit? They didn't mind letting you come visit me last year."

Hermione twirled her around and didn't speak until they were close once more. "Yes, but I might have informed them of the nature of our relationship..." she said slowly, obviously reluctant. "And they might have said something to the effect of you must be putting spells on me."

Pansy grimaced but then pulled Hermione tightly to her. "That was very brave," she said lightly, and was rewarded with a smile from the other girl.

"Why thank you, madame," Hermione responded as the song came to an end. They walked off the dance floor then.

"What are you doing?" Millicent hissed in Pansy's ear, and Pansy could feel Hermione being pulled away by an apparently angry Weasley and his hanger-on.

"I was dancing," Pansy replied simply. "Isn't that what a ball is for, Millicent?"

"You were dancing," Millicent said in a low voice, "with a girl. A Muggle-born Gryffindor girl. Luckily most everyone was watching Draco and Potter, but enough people saw you. You can't change the rules like that!"

"Why can't I? Draco changed the rules for himself, and that changed them for everybody, but most especially me."

"But he's a Malfoy, Pansy, and he's a boy. You... you're a girl! And the Parkinsons don't have the influence that the Malfoys do, you know that. You aren't stupid; why are you doing this?"

"I told you, Millicent," Pansy said, her voice strained as she grew more furious. "Love's grand, and so is planning your own life. I changed my rules. My rules, my prerogative."

Millicent could only splutter. "You're cutting yourself off from so much... you could have found someone else to marry... you didn't have to..."

Pansy interrupted her ruthlessly. "Didn't have to. There's the key phrase. I didn't have to do anything. This is what I'm choosing. I think, Millie, that you've forgotten something. I'm not the facade I wore for seven years here. I'm Pansy Parkinson, and I'm a pretty good embodiment of what being a Slytherin means." She smiled then, a trifle cruelly. "Good bye, Millicent Bulstrode. I hope you enjoy your time at the Ministry." With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving a gaping Millicent behind her. She strode back over to where Hermione was arguing with Weasley and Brown. She cocked her head questioningly at Hermione, who nodded slightly. Permission granted, she tapped Weasley on the shoulder.

"Wha...? Oh, it's you." The word was snarled, full of venom.

"Why, Weasley, I didn't know you thought so much of me," Pansy said sweetly. "Hermione, dearest, would come say hello to my parents?"

"Of course," Hermione responded, smiling a genuine smile. "I need to thank them for their generous offer."

"What generous offer?" Weasley ground out.

Suddenly Harry and Draco appeared beside them. "Are you going, then?" Harry asked with a smile. "Good for you. We'll see you occasionally I suppose."

"Going where?"

"To Pansy's," Hermione replied simply, then looked at Harry with some alarm. "Are you leaving now?"

Harry nodded solemnly. "We have to. We took our things this morning outside Hogsmeade; we'll get in touch when we can."

The groups engaged in a flurry of hugs, and Pansy found herself being squeezed gently by Harry himself. "I'm glad you make each other happy," he said simply. "Don't lose that."

Pansy smiled. "We won't. Good luck."

They separated and watched as the two boys pulled out identical Portkeys and activated them, vanishing from the hall. Hermione followed Pansy over to the Parkinsons, and Ron stayed anchored firmly in the same spot, Lavender holding on to his arm. "I don't understand," she whimpered.

Ron shook his head slowly. "I don't think we're supposed to."