Fic: A Stolen Moment (Hermione/Pansy)
Title: A Stolen Moment
Characters/Pairings: Pansy/Hermione
Rating: Teen
Summary: It was just a stolen moment between two people who needed an escape
Word Count: 3970
Beta: None so please excuse an errors.
A/N: Set during winter holidays of HBP (Not canon obviously) I discovered the first few hundred words of this in a folder on my laptop with the date of 2005, and I decided to finish it! 3000+ words later. Heh. I do so love these two together!
It was quiet and there was a damp chill in the air as Pansy Parkinson pulled her robes a bit tighter before she looked down the empty hall. Lips curving into a frown, she wondered where Granger had gone. They had separated upon reaching the third floor, Granger declaring that patrol would be completed sooner if they each took half of the floor before she’d turned and walked down the hall without waiting for a response.
Personally, Pansy thought it was ridiculous to patrol anyway. It was Christmas break and the majority of students had gone home for the holidays. There were only a couple of dozen students remaining at Hogwarts, and she didn’t think any of them were foolish enough to get caught should they decide to break curfew. She and Granger were the only Prefects who had remained for the holidays so they had been designated to perform patrols every blasted evening. Lucky her.
Yet again, Pansy wished that her parents had included her in their holiday trip to Hawaii instead of forcing her to remain at Hogwarts where the snow was nearly to her knees and it was so bloody cold she could see her breath even inside the castle. She had received several invitations from friends to spend the holidays with them and their families, but had declined them upon her parent’s instructions, having to use the pathetic excuse that she was using the time to catch up on her coursework.
She knew the reason why she was not to leave the castle just as she knew that the trip to Hawaii was merely a cover for wherever it was her parents had gone to hide. The War had become real the last few months, since the summer before sixth year had even begun. Draco’s father was in Azkaban, her childhood best friend torn between following his father’s expectations by joining Voldemort or following his own beliefs, which were neutral. The families of most her friends were followers of Voldemort, their children eagerly agreeing with their parents’ beliefs or too scared to declare their true thoughts.
Her parents had always been neutral when it came to Voldemort. They had no particular regard for Muggles or Muggleborns, but they also had no particular hatred for the inferior creatures. Over the last month, however, they had been forced to choose a side and that choice had resulted in their names joining the others that Voldemort saw as traitors. As long as Pansy was at Hogwarts, she was relatively safe. If she had gone to stay with a friend, well, she had no idea what might have happened but it would have most likely resulted in her either being forced to pledge allegiance to the Dark Lord or her being killed.
Since her parents' decision to refuse Voldemort, her life had honestly not changed as much as she had feared. Her true friends, most of whom thought Voldemort was a crazy psychopath, had treated her no differently, though they had been forced to be less public with their friendships because their parents didn’t share in their views of Voldemort. Those Slytherins who were not her friends had made remarks or threats, but Pansy could be quite threatening when she chose and they’d not made them more than once.
There were times that she wished she could have gone into hiding with her parents. Her world was now different and she was not overly fond of changes, even if they were only small and mostly consisted of her own outlook and beliefs, few of which were the same now as they had been even last year. However, Pansy had little respect for those who ran away or hid until things were over so she was determined to remain strong and firm in her beliefs.
She had made her own decisions regarding the Dark Lord that summer, knowing that life as his follower was not in her future despite her indifference to Muggles and Muggleborns, and she was brave enough to stand by her choice. True, only those closest to her were even aware that, should the time for fighting arrive, she would be fighting against the Dark Lord, even though a part of her wondered if she wouldn’t be too terrified to actually fight despite her good intentions. It was very terrifying to feel so alone in regards to the choice she knew she’d make, but she had no regrets.
Okay. She had one regret. The very idea of possibly fighting side by side with Potty and his bunch made her rather nauseous. Just because she believed Voldemort was a bit insane did not mean she suddenly wanted to be considered one of the good guys. She shuddered at the thought and selfishly hoped that Potter would defeat the Dark Lord before she was ever forced to go public with her allegiances. It was much better to be considered neutral or even bad than to actually announce that she hoped Potter and his silly friends won.
Moving down the hallway, Pansy sighed in annoyance. Where the bloody hell was Granger? They had been forced to patrol together for three days now and this was the first time the brunette witch had disappeared. It wasn’t that Pansy was scared or anything. It was Hogwarts, one of the only places she had ever truly felt safe, but she wasn’t overly fond of walking around dark, damp, cold hallways with barely any light.
To be honest, she was surprised that Granger had remained at Hogwarts over the holidays. Potter had gone off to spend the break with the Weasleys and Pansy was certain Granger must have been invited. Why choose to stay at the drafty old castle alone when her friends were off celebrating? Of course, the idea of spending time with the Weasleys, in itself, was enough to justify remaining at Hogwarts to Pansy. However, Granger didn’t seem to find the Weasleys to be obnoxious or annoying so it was somewhat intriguing.
Granger had always been rather fascinating to Pansy. Since first year, when the mousy little witch had answered every question correctly in her bossy voice, Pansy had been curious about the Muggleborn. She didn’t like her at all, thought she was prissy, superior and had no regard to her proper place in the Wizarding world, but Granger was rather interesting so she had watched her occasionally, studied her as one might study a perplexing Potion. That was the only reason she had noticed something had changed with Granger.
Since sixth year had begun, the Gryffindor had been a bit different. She still knew all the answers, still managed to have the highest marks in all her classes, still remained close to Potter and Weasley, but she rarely smiled anymore. Her answers lacked the smug ‘I know more than you’ tone and Pansy didn’t think she’d heard Granger laugh once all term. Perhaps there was truth to the rumor about Granger being upset with Weasley for snogging that daft Brown bird.
No one else seemed to notice a change in her behavior so Pansy hadn’t mentioned her observations to anyone. She shouldn’t have known enough about Granger to even realize she was quiet and withdrawn. And it wasn’t as if she could ask Granger what was bothering her. They rarely spoke, even while doing patrol, and one would not be totally wrong if they said they were enemies. Rival Houses, bickering for five years, and animosity that stemmed from any number of things prevented them from being more than cordial and even then only when it was absolutely necessary.
Why, then, had Pansy spent so many hours the last few months wondering why Granger was so unhappy? She refused to consider why she paid so much attention to Granger, and she certainly didn’t dwell on the impact the brunette unknowingly had on Pansy’s analysis of Voldemort and her own beliefs on Muggleborns. She respected Granger, admired her for being so strong and refusing to cower before anyone who thought Muggleborns didn’t belong in their world, though that respect had only been acknowledged in the previous months and never publically. It never would be, either, because Pansy would rather shovel Hippogriff dung than admit that to anyone.
Prior to Pansy’s decision to fight against Voldemort, she had thought that Granger was worthless because of her blood and had hated her simply because it was expected. Now that she has made a decision that affected the future she had imagined since she was five, she had done more thinking than she had in her entire life. It was almost funny how deciding not to join Voldemort had altered her perception of the world in which she lived.
She was able to see that Draco was a coward, too afraid of his Father to become his own man and make his own decisions. Theo was not nearly as unaffected as he acted, having an awareness for what was happening in the world outside of Hogwarts that possibly rivaled Potter himself. Greg was weak but loyal, showing enough bravery to convince her that he would refuse that Dark Mark this summer even if it meant his own death, but his father was prone to abuse, so he might end up giving in to that demand. Sadly, she thought Vince was a lost cause, too ignorant to think for himself and often quoting his father as if his word was gospel.
Millie was tough, a thinker. She had spent hours creating a strategy for those who wished to join Pansy in turning their backs on the Dark Lord when the time came to choose. Blaise remained neutral in the War, but Pansy knew that he would join them if he was forced to choose sides. As for everyone else in her House, they were unable to think beyond the prejudices they had learned since birth, doing exactly what their parents said with no regards to the future and what the world would be like should Voldemort win.
Pansy also had to acknowledge a grudging respect for Potter and his friends. They had faced things that she didn’t even know about and were still strong and determined to win, regardless of the sacrifice. She had heard stories of Potter’s adventures with Weasley and Granger, but had never paid much attention. It was in their eyes, though. They were her age, barely sixteen, yet their eyes were knowledgeable, old. They’d seen things she couldn’t imagine and had enough strength to continue fighting. Even if she didn’t particularly like them or have any intention of becoming friends, she shuddered at the thought, with any of them, she admired them. There were those in other houses who had joined some secret club for defense last year that now walked around the school with a similar look in their eyes, but they weren’t as hardened as Potter, Granger and Weasley.
Pansy was pulled from her thoughts when she neared the end of the hallway and noticed an open door. Knowing that she didn’t see Granger anywhere, she decided to investigate. “Nox,” she whispered, the light from her wand disappearing before she walked to the door. Pansy quietly moved into the classroom, a part of her wondering if she’d catch Granger breaking the rules, taking a slight delight in the idea. The cunning smile faded from her lips when her eyes caught sight of the girl leaning against the window.
Granger was sitting on the ledge with her chin resting on her knees, her forehead against the cold pane of glass. The moon was the only source of light in the room, but it was bright enough for Pansy to see the tears on her cheeks. She was sobbing silently, the only sound in the room a soft exhalation of breath as more tears slid down her pale cheeks.
Pansy didn’t know what to do. Granger was one of the strongest people she knew, rarely showing any signs of weakness, not even allowing Draco’s constant slurs and insults to create a reaction. To see her like this, looking so sad and fragile, it just seemed wrong. A part of her wanted to demand why Granger was sitting in a dark classroom by herself crying while another part of her thought she should leave and give the witch privacy while a small part of her seemed to want to move forward and hug the crying girl.
Shaking her head slightly, she slowly backed out of the room. Her mind was full of questions as she walked down the hall, deciding that patrol was over. Why was Granger crying? Why did she care? The Pansy of yore would have delighted in finding her nemesis in such a vulnerable position, using the rare show of emotion as a weakness, using it to best the brunette that let so little affect her. Now, though, all she could think about was comforting the girl she had always hated.
Perhaps Granger wasn’t nearly as perfect as everyone seemed to think. Pansy stopped walking when she reached the stairs. Sitting down, she grew thoughtful. She had always assumed that Granger was too blunt and honest to put up a façade, not seeming to care what anyone thought of her and doing exactly what she thought was right without hesitation. Maybe Granger had masks, too. Pansy had several so that was something familiar to her. She had the ‘perfect Pureblood daughter’ mask that was usually in place during her visits home. There was also ‘perfect Slytherin Princess’, ‘responsible Prefect’, and ‘Future Mrs. Draco Malfoy’, though the latter had not been used in many months.
What masks might Granger wear? She was always a bossy know-it-all, a smug student who excelled in practically everything, a devoted friend, and a brave witch. Pansy couldn’t recall seeing any real signs of vulnerability or fear in years, and even then it was usually fleeting and quickly became determination and courage. A curious gleam entered her eyes as she stood and walked back down the hallway to the classroom. Stepping inside, she whispered, “Lumos.”
Pansy watched as Granger stiffened when the room was lit by her wand, her hands discreetly wiping her cheeks as her head turned to face the window. She didn’t want to be caught crying. She frowned before bluntly asking, “Granger, why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying, Parkinson,” Granger denied, her voice unwavering. If Pansy hadn’t seen it for herself, she’d have believed Granger because she sounded that convincing.
“I saw you crying. Why?”
“You saw?” Granger turned an accusing glare on her, causing Pansy to wonder if she should have just returned to the dungeons. “It was nothing, Parkinson. Patrol is over. You can go back to your dorm.”
“It didn’t look like ‘nothing’, Granger. Why didn’t you go to the Weasleys? Is that why you’re crying? You miss your silly little friends?”
“I don’t have to answer your questions. We’re not friends. Hell, Parkinson, you hate me so why do you care anyway?”
Pansy’s eyes narrowed before she reluctantly admitted, “I don’t hate you. I may not like you, but I don’t hate you.”
“Oh, that’s better,” Granger snorted. “Just leave it. It’s been a long day. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and it will be busy so we should get some sleep.”
Instead of turning to leave, Pansy moved closer, sitting on the top of a desk close to Granger. Looking at her, she asked, “Why did you stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, Granger?”
“Why did you stay?” Granger asked sharply, obviously not wanting to talk to her. Never one to let such things bother her, Pansy smirked slightly when she realized that the other girl was getting annoyed with her questions and had snapped in much the same way she did to Weasley when he was trying to copy her schoolwork. It was better than crying.
“My parents thought it was for the best,” she said matter-of-factly. She wasn’t going to tell Granger that her family was in hiding, and that she had no idea what she was going to do at the end of the school year because she couldn’t join them, not with another year of school left, but she also couldn’t join Voldemort. Millicent was working on a plan, though, so knew there was no need to worry about it. “They went away for the holidays.”
“And they left you here?” Granger frowned as she got a curious look in her eyes.
Bloody hell. Pansy certainly wasn’t going to allow herself to become the subject of Granger’s curiosity or any effort to remain neutral would be destroyed. “I wanted to start revising for NEWTs. One can never start preparing too early.” She gave Granger a challenging look that just dared her to make a remark about Pansy’s studying habits. “I told you, so you owe me. Why are you here instead of with your own family or the redheaded paupers?”
“My parents are also on holiday, and I didn’t want to go with them.” Granger glared at her. “The Weasleys did invite me, but I thought it would be better to stay here and research. I can accomplish a lot more without distractions or interruptions.”
“Really?” Pansy smiled. “Trouble in paradise? Is the Gryffindor threesome about to split up?”
“I am not having sex with Harry or Ron!” Granger rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand why so many people cannot understand the simple concept of a woman being friends with men without there being romantic entanglements.”
Pansy snorted, having to agree, albeit reluctantly because she hated the idea of actually agreeing with Granger about anything. “People say horrid things about me and Zabini, but I’d never shag him. We’re friends but no one really believes it.” Pansy saw a slightly guilty look on Granger’s face and smirked. “Point proven.”
“He’s just rather, uh.” Granger made a hand motion that Pansy can’t interpret but the blush made it obvious that she was referring to Blaise’s sexy attitude. “And you’re quite bold about such things. It’s just a logical conclusion, I suppose.”
“You spend all of your time with boys, so perhaps it’s a logical conclusion for everyone to assume you’re a nymphomaniac,” Pansy said sweetly, feeling victorious when she obviously struck her target perfectly.
“Point proven,” Granger agreed, nodding her head once as she repeated Pansy’s own words.
Pansy leaned against the wall and studied Granger. “Why were you crying?”
“A kind person would pretend they hadn’t seen anything and stop asking me personal questions, especially when we aren’t friends and this is the longest conversation we’ve had in over five years,” Granger muttered. At Pansy’s smirk, she sighed. “Right. You’re Pansy Parkinson. You’re not kind or, if you are, you certainly wouldn’t admit it to me. I was crying because I feel better sometimes when I let the emotions out. I don’t consider it a weakness, but I also don’t need to hear about how much of a crybaby I am when everyone returns to school.”
“I won’t tell.” Pansy bit her lip and scowled because she hadn’t planned to tell Granger that, even if it was true. “If I did, I’d have to admit that we patrolled together and I spoke with you. My reputation would be in tatters if anyone found out.”
Granger just looked at her before a ghost of a smile crossed her lips. It wasn’t her usual smile, but it was an improvement over the recent apathy Pansy had noticed. “We wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation.”
“Merlin, no! It would be devastating if people knew we had a civil conversation.” Pansy grimaced at the thought, not entirely acting because she could just imagine what her friends would say. “You shouldn’t cry in dark classrooms, Granger. It’s cliché and depressing.”
“I wouldn’t want to be a cliché,” Granger said, rolling her eyes again before she looked out the window. “I stayed here because a war is starting, and I’m going to be a major target. Not just because of my blood, but because of my friendship with Harry. I don’t fancy dying any time soon, so I’m spending the holidays learning everything I can to help defend myself as well as to help Harry win.”
Pansy frowned because Granger’s words made her feel anxious. “You could always leave until the war is finished. I’ve heard that Hawaii is quite lovely this time of year.”
“I’m sure it is, but my place is beside Harry.” Granger turned towards her again. “If I die, I’ll die fighting.”
Before she knew what she was doing, Pansy was surging forward and pressing her lips against Granger’s. She heard the startled gasp but ignored it as she tangled her fingers in Granger’s hair. Oddly enough, Granger didn’t push her away. Instead, she started to kiss her back. Pansy closed her eyes and focused on the taste and feel of soft lips against hers before she finally stepped away. Granger was staring at her with wide eyes, and Pansy had to take a moment to collect herself because she was confused and had no idea why she’d just done that.
“Parkinson, what was that? Is this some joke?” Granger crossed her arms in front of her, which drew Pansy’s attention to her perky breasts. Merlin, what was wrong with her?
“You shouldn’t speak so casually about dying,” she finally said, clearing her throat when Granger continued staring at her. “I don’t know, alright? I was listening then I felt…I just had to…I’m going back to the dungeons now.”
“Wait.” Granger grabbed her arm, and Pansy glared at her. “If I talk about dying, will you do it again? Kiss me, I mean. It was…it made me stop thinking, and I really need that right now.”
“What?” Pansy gaped at her, unable to conceal her surprise and maintain her aloofness because Granger was licking her lips and her eyes were still red from crying and she was blushing but she was smiling. It was a small smile, but Pansy had caused it. “You want me to kiss you, Granger?”
“Yes.” Granger took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. We wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation, after all.”
“In this case, I think I’d earn admiration from the many wizards who wank to fantasies of kissing you, but, yes, it would likely end up damaging my reputation overall,” Pansy said, playing off her nervousness with quips because she was good at that.
“Those same wizards and more probably, uh, wank to thoughts of kissing you, too, so perhaps you should worry about me bragging,” Granger said, unable to pull off smooth and carefree at all. Pansy wanted to hex herself for finding the effort adorable.
“Even more are likely to have wanked at thoughts of us doing it together.” She smiled as she reached over to touch Granger’s face before she leaned up to kiss her again. She felt a rush of something spread over her, but she wasn’t going to examine it because she knew whatever happened right now wasn’t going to be something she could ever think about after this, even if she knew there was a good chance that she’d be unable to think about anything else now that she’d had a taste of Granger. This wasn’t about romance or a potential relationship had they been two different people other than Hermione Granger, Potter’s right-hand, and Pansy Parkinson, Slytherin Princess. It was just a stolen moment between two people who needed an escape, and Pansy knew she needed to remember that. As Granger returned the kiss and touched her face, she knew it was going to be impossible but she didn't care. She might not be a Gryffindor, thank Merlin, but she was brave and reckless, too, obviously.
End
Characters/Pairings: Pansy/Hermione
Rating: Teen
Summary: It was just a stolen moment between two people who needed an escape
Word Count: 3970
Beta: None so please excuse an errors.
A/N: Set during winter holidays of HBP (Not canon obviously) I discovered the first few hundred words of this in a folder on my laptop with the date of 2005, and I decided to finish it! 3000+ words later. Heh. I do so love these two together!
It was quiet and there was a damp chill in the air as Pansy Parkinson pulled her robes a bit tighter before she looked down the empty hall. Lips curving into a frown, she wondered where Granger had gone. They had separated upon reaching the third floor, Granger declaring that patrol would be completed sooner if they each took half of the floor before she’d turned and walked down the hall without waiting for a response.
Personally, Pansy thought it was ridiculous to patrol anyway. It was Christmas break and the majority of students had gone home for the holidays. There were only a couple of dozen students remaining at Hogwarts, and she didn’t think any of them were foolish enough to get caught should they decide to break curfew. She and Granger were the only Prefects who had remained for the holidays so they had been designated to perform patrols every blasted evening. Lucky her.
Yet again, Pansy wished that her parents had included her in their holiday trip to Hawaii instead of forcing her to remain at Hogwarts where the snow was nearly to her knees and it was so bloody cold she could see her breath even inside the castle. She had received several invitations from friends to spend the holidays with them and their families, but had declined them upon her parent’s instructions, having to use the pathetic excuse that she was using the time to catch up on her coursework.
She knew the reason why she was not to leave the castle just as she knew that the trip to Hawaii was merely a cover for wherever it was her parents had gone to hide. The War had become real the last few months, since the summer before sixth year had even begun. Draco’s father was in Azkaban, her childhood best friend torn between following his father’s expectations by joining Voldemort or following his own beliefs, which were neutral. The families of most her friends were followers of Voldemort, their children eagerly agreeing with their parents’ beliefs or too scared to declare their true thoughts.
Her parents had always been neutral when it came to Voldemort. They had no particular regard for Muggles or Muggleborns, but they also had no particular hatred for the inferior creatures. Over the last month, however, they had been forced to choose a side and that choice had resulted in their names joining the others that Voldemort saw as traitors. As long as Pansy was at Hogwarts, she was relatively safe. If she had gone to stay with a friend, well, she had no idea what might have happened but it would have most likely resulted in her either being forced to pledge allegiance to the Dark Lord or her being killed.
Since her parents' decision to refuse Voldemort, her life had honestly not changed as much as she had feared. Her true friends, most of whom thought Voldemort was a crazy psychopath, had treated her no differently, though they had been forced to be less public with their friendships because their parents didn’t share in their views of Voldemort. Those Slytherins who were not her friends had made remarks or threats, but Pansy could be quite threatening when she chose and they’d not made them more than once.
There were times that she wished she could have gone into hiding with her parents. Her world was now different and she was not overly fond of changes, even if they were only small and mostly consisted of her own outlook and beliefs, few of which were the same now as they had been even last year. However, Pansy had little respect for those who ran away or hid until things were over so she was determined to remain strong and firm in her beliefs.
She had made her own decisions regarding the Dark Lord that summer, knowing that life as his follower was not in her future despite her indifference to Muggles and Muggleborns, and she was brave enough to stand by her choice. True, only those closest to her were even aware that, should the time for fighting arrive, she would be fighting against the Dark Lord, even though a part of her wondered if she wouldn’t be too terrified to actually fight despite her good intentions. It was very terrifying to feel so alone in regards to the choice she knew she’d make, but she had no regrets.
Okay. She had one regret. The very idea of possibly fighting side by side with Potty and his bunch made her rather nauseous. Just because she believed Voldemort was a bit insane did not mean she suddenly wanted to be considered one of the good guys. She shuddered at the thought and selfishly hoped that Potter would defeat the Dark Lord before she was ever forced to go public with her allegiances. It was much better to be considered neutral or even bad than to actually announce that she hoped Potter and his silly friends won.
Moving down the hallway, Pansy sighed in annoyance. Where the bloody hell was Granger? They had been forced to patrol together for three days now and this was the first time the brunette witch had disappeared. It wasn’t that Pansy was scared or anything. It was Hogwarts, one of the only places she had ever truly felt safe, but she wasn’t overly fond of walking around dark, damp, cold hallways with barely any light.
To be honest, she was surprised that Granger had remained at Hogwarts over the holidays. Potter had gone off to spend the break with the Weasleys and Pansy was certain Granger must have been invited. Why choose to stay at the drafty old castle alone when her friends were off celebrating? Of course, the idea of spending time with the Weasleys, in itself, was enough to justify remaining at Hogwarts to Pansy. However, Granger didn’t seem to find the Weasleys to be obnoxious or annoying so it was somewhat intriguing.
Granger had always been rather fascinating to Pansy. Since first year, when the mousy little witch had answered every question correctly in her bossy voice, Pansy had been curious about the Muggleborn. She didn’t like her at all, thought she was prissy, superior and had no regard to her proper place in the Wizarding world, but Granger was rather interesting so she had watched her occasionally, studied her as one might study a perplexing Potion. That was the only reason she had noticed something had changed with Granger.
Since sixth year had begun, the Gryffindor had been a bit different. She still knew all the answers, still managed to have the highest marks in all her classes, still remained close to Potter and Weasley, but she rarely smiled anymore. Her answers lacked the smug ‘I know more than you’ tone and Pansy didn’t think she’d heard Granger laugh once all term. Perhaps there was truth to the rumor about Granger being upset with Weasley for snogging that daft Brown bird.
No one else seemed to notice a change in her behavior so Pansy hadn’t mentioned her observations to anyone. She shouldn’t have known enough about Granger to even realize she was quiet and withdrawn. And it wasn’t as if she could ask Granger what was bothering her. They rarely spoke, even while doing patrol, and one would not be totally wrong if they said they were enemies. Rival Houses, bickering for five years, and animosity that stemmed from any number of things prevented them from being more than cordial and even then only when it was absolutely necessary.
Why, then, had Pansy spent so many hours the last few months wondering why Granger was so unhappy? She refused to consider why she paid so much attention to Granger, and she certainly didn’t dwell on the impact the brunette unknowingly had on Pansy’s analysis of Voldemort and her own beliefs on Muggleborns. She respected Granger, admired her for being so strong and refusing to cower before anyone who thought Muggleborns didn’t belong in their world, though that respect had only been acknowledged in the previous months and never publically. It never would be, either, because Pansy would rather shovel Hippogriff dung than admit that to anyone.
Prior to Pansy’s decision to fight against Voldemort, she had thought that Granger was worthless because of her blood and had hated her simply because it was expected. Now that she has made a decision that affected the future she had imagined since she was five, she had done more thinking than she had in her entire life. It was almost funny how deciding not to join Voldemort had altered her perception of the world in which she lived.
She was able to see that Draco was a coward, too afraid of his Father to become his own man and make his own decisions. Theo was not nearly as unaffected as he acted, having an awareness for what was happening in the world outside of Hogwarts that possibly rivaled Potter himself. Greg was weak but loyal, showing enough bravery to convince her that he would refuse that Dark Mark this summer even if it meant his own death, but his father was prone to abuse, so he might end up giving in to that demand. Sadly, she thought Vince was a lost cause, too ignorant to think for himself and often quoting his father as if his word was gospel.
Millie was tough, a thinker. She had spent hours creating a strategy for those who wished to join Pansy in turning their backs on the Dark Lord when the time came to choose. Blaise remained neutral in the War, but Pansy knew that he would join them if he was forced to choose sides. As for everyone else in her House, they were unable to think beyond the prejudices they had learned since birth, doing exactly what their parents said with no regards to the future and what the world would be like should Voldemort win.
Pansy also had to acknowledge a grudging respect for Potter and his friends. They had faced things that she didn’t even know about and were still strong and determined to win, regardless of the sacrifice. She had heard stories of Potter’s adventures with Weasley and Granger, but had never paid much attention. It was in their eyes, though. They were her age, barely sixteen, yet their eyes were knowledgeable, old. They’d seen things she couldn’t imagine and had enough strength to continue fighting. Even if she didn’t particularly like them or have any intention of becoming friends, she shuddered at the thought, with any of them, she admired them. There were those in other houses who had joined some secret club for defense last year that now walked around the school with a similar look in their eyes, but they weren’t as hardened as Potter, Granger and Weasley.
Pansy was pulled from her thoughts when she neared the end of the hallway and noticed an open door. Knowing that she didn’t see Granger anywhere, she decided to investigate. “Nox,” she whispered, the light from her wand disappearing before she walked to the door. Pansy quietly moved into the classroom, a part of her wondering if she’d catch Granger breaking the rules, taking a slight delight in the idea. The cunning smile faded from her lips when her eyes caught sight of the girl leaning against the window.
Granger was sitting on the ledge with her chin resting on her knees, her forehead against the cold pane of glass. The moon was the only source of light in the room, but it was bright enough for Pansy to see the tears on her cheeks. She was sobbing silently, the only sound in the room a soft exhalation of breath as more tears slid down her pale cheeks.
Pansy didn’t know what to do. Granger was one of the strongest people she knew, rarely showing any signs of weakness, not even allowing Draco’s constant slurs and insults to create a reaction. To see her like this, looking so sad and fragile, it just seemed wrong. A part of her wanted to demand why Granger was sitting in a dark classroom by herself crying while another part of her thought she should leave and give the witch privacy while a small part of her seemed to want to move forward and hug the crying girl.
Shaking her head slightly, she slowly backed out of the room. Her mind was full of questions as she walked down the hall, deciding that patrol was over. Why was Granger crying? Why did she care? The Pansy of yore would have delighted in finding her nemesis in such a vulnerable position, using the rare show of emotion as a weakness, using it to best the brunette that let so little affect her. Now, though, all she could think about was comforting the girl she had always hated.
Perhaps Granger wasn’t nearly as perfect as everyone seemed to think. Pansy stopped walking when she reached the stairs. Sitting down, she grew thoughtful. She had always assumed that Granger was too blunt and honest to put up a façade, not seeming to care what anyone thought of her and doing exactly what she thought was right without hesitation. Maybe Granger had masks, too. Pansy had several so that was something familiar to her. She had the ‘perfect Pureblood daughter’ mask that was usually in place during her visits home. There was also ‘perfect Slytherin Princess’, ‘responsible Prefect’, and ‘Future Mrs. Draco Malfoy’, though the latter had not been used in many months.
What masks might Granger wear? She was always a bossy know-it-all, a smug student who excelled in practically everything, a devoted friend, and a brave witch. Pansy couldn’t recall seeing any real signs of vulnerability or fear in years, and even then it was usually fleeting and quickly became determination and courage. A curious gleam entered her eyes as she stood and walked back down the hallway to the classroom. Stepping inside, she whispered, “Lumos.”
Pansy watched as Granger stiffened when the room was lit by her wand, her hands discreetly wiping her cheeks as her head turned to face the window. She didn’t want to be caught crying. She frowned before bluntly asking, “Granger, why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying, Parkinson,” Granger denied, her voice unwavering. If Pansy hadn’t seen it for herself, she’d have believed Granger because she sounded that convincing.
“I saw you crying. Why?”
“You saw?” Granger turned an accusing glare on her, causing Pansy to wonder if she should have just returned to the dungeons. “It was nothing, Parkinson. Patrol is over. You can go back to your dorm.”
“It didn’t look like ‘nothing’, Granger. Why didn’t you go to the Weasleys? Is that why you’re crying? You miss your silly little friends?”
“I don’t have to answer your questions. We’re not friends. Hell, Parkinson, you hate me so why do you care anyway?”
Pansy’s eyes narrowed before she reluctantly admitted, “I don’t hate you. I may not like you, but I don’t hate you.”
“Oh, that’s better,” Granger snorted. “Just leave it. It’s been a long day. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and it will be busy so we should get some sleep.”
Instead of turning to leave, Pansy moved closer, sitting on the top of a desk close to Granger. Looking at her, she asked, “Why did you stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, Granger?”
“Why did you stay?” Granger asked sharply, obviously not wanting to talk to her. Never one to let such things bother her, Pansy smirked slightly when she realized that the other girl was getting annoyed with her questions and had snapped in much the same way she did to Weasley when he was trying to copy her schoolwork. It was better than crying.
“My parents thought it was for the best,” she said matter-of-factly. She wasn’t going to tell Granger that her family was in hiding, and that she had no idea what she was going to do at the end of the school year because she couldn’t join them, not with another year of school left, but she also couldn’t join Voldemort. Millicent was working on a plan, though, so knew there was no need to worry about it. “They went away for the holidays.”
“And they left you here?” Granger frowned as she got a curious look in her eyes.
Bloody hell. Pansy certainly wasn’t going to allow herself to become the subject of Granger’s curiosity or any effort to remain neutral would be destroyed. “I wanted to start revising for NEWTs. One can never start preparing too early.” She gave Granger a challenging look that just dared her to make a remark about Pansy’s studying habits. “I told you, so you owe me. Why are you here instead of with your own family or the redheaded paupers?”
“My parents are also on holiday, and I didn’t want to go with them.” Granger glared at her. “The Weasleys did invite me, but I thought it would be better to stay here and research. I can accomplish a lot more without distractions or interruptions.”
“Really?” Pansy smiled. “Trouble in paradise? Is the Gryffindor threesome about to split up?”
“I am not having sex with Harry or Ron!” Granger rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand why so many people cannot understand the simple concept of a woman being friends with men without there being romantic entanglements.”
Pansy snorted, having to agree, albeit reluctantly because she hated the idea of actually agreeing with Granger about anything. “People say horrid things about me and Zabini, but I’d never shag him. We’re friends but no one really believes it.” Pansy saw a slightly guilty look on Granger’s face and smirked. “Point proven.”
“He’s just rather, uh.” Granger made a hand motion that Pansy can’t interpret but the blush made it obvious that she was referring to Blaise’s sexy attitude. “And you’re quite bold about such things. It’s just a logical conclusion, I suppose.”
“You spend all of your time with boys, so perhaps it’s a logical conclusion for everyone to assume you’re a nymphomaniac,” Pansy said sweetly, feeling victorious when she obviously struck her target perfectly.
“Point proven,” Granger agreed, nodding her head once as she repeated Pansy’s own words.
Pansy leaned against the wall and studied Granger. “Why were you crying?”
“A kind person would pretend they hadn’t seen anything and stop asking me personal questions, especially when we aren’t friends and this is the longest conversation we’ve had in over five years,” Granger muttered. At Pansy’s smirk, she sighed. “Right. You’re Pansy Parkinson. You’re not kind or, if you are, you certainly wouldn’t admit it to me. I was crying because I feel better sometimes when I let the emotions out. I don’t consider it a weakness, but I also don’t need to hear about how much of a crybaby I am when everyone returns to school.”
“I won’t tell.” Pansy bit her lip and scowled because she hadn’t planned to tell Granger that, even if it was true. “If I did, I’d have to admit that we patrolled together and I spoke with you. My reputation would be in tatters if anyone found out.”
Granger just looked at her before a ghost of a smile crossed her lips. It wasn’t her usual smile, but it was an improvement over the recent apathy Pansy had noticed. “We wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation.”
“Merlin, no! It would be devastating if people knew we had a civil conversation.” Pansy grimaced at the thought, not entirely acting because she could just imagine what her friends would say. “You shouldn’t cry in dark classrooms, Granger. It’s cliché and depressing.”
“I wouldn’t want to be a cliché,” Granger said, rolling her eyes again before she looked out the window. “I stayed here because a war is starting, and I’m going to be a major target. Not just because of my blood, but because of my friendship with Harry. I don’t fancy dying any time soon, so I’m spending the holidays learning everything I can to help defend myself as well as to help Harry win.”
Pansy frowned because Granger’s words made her feel anxious. “You could always leave until the war is finished. I’ve heard that Hawaii is quite lovely this time of year.”
“I’m sure it is, but my place is beside Harry.” Granger turned towards her again. “If I die, I’ll die fighting.”
Before she knew what she was doing, Pansy was surging forward and pressing her lips against Granger’s. She heard the startled gasp but ignored it as she tangled her fingers in Granger’s hair. Oddly enough, Granger didn’t push her away. Instead, she started to kiss her back. Pansy closed her eyes and focused on the taste and feel of soft lips against hers before she finally stepped away. Granger was staring at her with wide eyes, and Pansy had to take a moment to collect herself because she was confused and had no idea why she’d just done that.
“Parkinson, what was that? Is this some joke?” Granger crossed her arms in front of her, which drew Pansy’s attention to her perky breasts. Merlin, what was wrong with her?
“You shouldn’t speak so casually about dying,” she finally said, clearing her throat when Granger continued staring at her. “I don’t know, alright? I was listening then I felt…I just had to…I’m going back to the dungeons now.”
“Wait.” Granger grabbed her arm, and Pansy glared at her. “If I talk about dying, will you do it again? Kiss me, I mean. It was…it made me stop thinking, and I really need that right now.”
“What?” Pansy gaped at her, unable to conceal her surprise and maintain her aloofness because Granger was licking her lips and her eyes were still red from crying and she was blushing but she was smiling. It was a small smile, but Pansy had caused it. “You want me to kiss you, Granger?”
“Yes.” Granger took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. We wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation, after all.”
“In this case, I think I’d earn admiration from the many wizards who wank to fantasies of kissing you, but, yes, it would likely end up damaging my reputation overall,” Pansy said, playing off her nervousness with quips because she was good at that.
“Those same wizards and more probably, uh, wank to thoughts of kissing you, too, so perhaps you should worry about me bragging,” Granger said, unable to pull off smooth and carefree at all. Pansy wanted to hex herself for finding the effort adorable.
“Even more are likely to have wanked at thoughts of us doing it together.” She smiled as she reached over to touch Granger’s face before she leaned up to kiss her again. She felt a rush of something spread over her, but she wasn’t going to examine it because she knew whatever happened right now wasn’t going to be something she could ever think about after this, even if she knew there was a good chance that she’d be unable to think about anything else now that she’d had a taste of Granger. This wasn’t about romance or a potential relationship had they been two different people other than Hermione Granger, Potter’s right-hand, and Pansy Parkinson, Slytherin Princess. It was just a stolen moment between two people who needed an escape, and Pansy knew she needed to remember that. As Granger returned the kiss and touched her face, she knew it was going to be impossible but she didn't care. She might not be a Gryffindor, thank Merlin, but she was brave and reckless, too, obviously.
End