YOU DIDN'T MEAN TO • PANSMIONE

( SIX ! )

"I'VE MESSED UP," WAS the first thing that Hermione said as she entered the Gryffindor common room. Ginny looked up sharply from a book she was reading (Quidditch Through The Ages, of course; Hermione remembered Harry's mild obsession with the little book), and frowned.

"Hermione Granger doesn't mess up," she remarked. "I'm sure it isn't as bad as it seems."

Hermione sighed. "I wish you were right, Ginny, but I think I really have messed up, and it's not good." Collapsing onto an armchair, she pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers. "I'm so stupid! Why did I have to go and ruin it now?"

"Ruin what?" Ginny snapped her book shut and squeezed in next to Hermione, causing the chair to creak alarmingly. Hermione laughed, but there was no humour in it, and, unwillingly, she felt that familiar burning sensation in her nose and eyes that heralded the arrival of tears.

"I did something really stupid." Ginny raised her eyebrows expectantly, making herself comfortable. "I asked Pansy to study with me."

"You WHAT?" Ginny's yell was so loud that others around them turned and stared, somewhat angrily. "Sorry," she added, unapologetically.

"I asked her to study with me," Hermione repeated numbly. This must have been how Ron felt when he'd asked Fleur Delacour to the Yule Ball in their fourth year, she thought.

"She didn't hurt you, did she?" Ginny grabbed Hermione's shoulders and pulled her round so that their eyes met. "Tell me now if she said anything horrible to you, and I'll-"

"She didn't do anything." Hermione pulled away. "She was actually...nice, I guess."

Ginny's nose crinkled. "Nice?"

"Mmm. Well, until I...I just said some things, some really dumb things, and now she won't help me anymore." Shaking her head, Hermione stood, straining to pull herself out of the chair with Ginny's body crushed against hers. "I don't want to talk about it. I need to start this assignment if I'm going to get it done in time."

"'Mione, wait. She can't do this to you -"

"Well, she has," Hermione snapped, "and it was my fault." Ginny opened her mouth. "It was."

"If you say so..." Ginny trailed off, and Hermione could tell she was utterly unconvinced. Oh well; at least she knew that she had friends who would stand by her, no matter what, and that was always encouraging. But now to do this blasted assignment - damn you, Slughorn! And didn't she have Charms work to do as well?

She pulled out her books. This was going to be a very long night. 

---

The next morning, Pansy sat alone in the great hall (as usual, and she wasn't unhappy about it, of course not), chewing somewhat contemplatively but mostly angrily on a bacon rind. She stared straight ahead, into nothingness, and when a first year asked her to pass a jug of zesty orange juice, she slid across to them without breaking her gaze.

Hermione fucking Granger.

She remembered now why the girl had always infuriated her so much. Such a know it all, thinking everyone else was as privileged as her, with her hundreds of books, striding through life naive and unafraid. Why had she been so intrigued by her this year? Why couldn't she just keep to herself and not hurt anyone anymore?

She growled, and the first years near her scuttled away hastily.

And there they were. Hermione, her bushy hair haloed by the sun light (as if even the sun perceived her as some sort of angel), and the Weasley girl, Ginny, beside her. She was pretty, with a freckled face and clean, sharp features, Pansy supposed - but Hermione outshone her. Objectively, of course. Pansy didn't have an opinion on this sort of thing. But the tight brown curls of her hair and her brown eyes - just an ordinary brown, but a warm, bright brown - crafted a girl of familiarity and warmth and bravery and confidence and awkwardness all at once. And she was made of smiles and frowns and laughter.

She was made of everything while Pansy was made of nothing.

Hermione also looked tired. Her face was bare of make up, so Pansy could see the dark smudges under her eyes that indicated lack of sleep, her posture was slumped (usually it was impeccable, unless she was carrying books), and she yawned at regular intervals. Scrutinising her, Pansy felt a hollow pang of guilt inside her. Was...she the reason for that sleeplessness?

No, it didn't matter even if she was. She didn't regret abandoning Hermione, of course she didn't! She wasn't certainly going to become a know it all, apparently better than everyone else - and she wasn't giving her parents the satisfaction of getting good grade.

Oh, why did school exist?

She felt a tap on her shoulder, and jumped. "What?" she snapped, spinning round, only to find that Ginny Weasley had somehow made her way over to her without her noticing.

"Hi!" Ginny said enthusiastically. "How are you?"

Pansy stared at her.

"I hope you're having a good morning," Ginny continued, plopping onto the bench beside her amiably. "I just popped over here to, you know, let you know that Hermione Granger is one of my best friends and if you have hurt her in any way - even though she claims you haven't -" at this she scowled extremely doubtfully, "- but if you've hurt her in any way, I will personally hunt you down and stick you with this fork." She held up one of the silver dining forks lying on the table. "They're actually really sharp!"

Pansy stared at her.

"Anyway, I hope you have a nice day, enjoy your lessons!" Ginny said brightly, and promptly strode back to the Gryffindor table.

Pansy stared at her.

For a moment she couldn't speak or think. Ginny Weasley had just threatened her over Hermione Granger - with a fork, for merlin's sake. She dared not look at the two of them, for she was certain they would be sniggering, even though they thought they were better than that. Even though they were the 'good ones'.

She looked up, her expression black with fury -

They weren't even looking at her.

They weren't even looking at her.

It hurt Pansy how much she wanted Hermione to look at her.

She pushed her plate away and left.