( NINE ! )

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"Granger!"

"GRANGER!"

"HERMIONE GRANGER, YOU STOP WALKING AND LOOK AT ME RIGHT NOW!"

Hermione stopped, but remained facing forwards, her eyes fixated on a delicate crack in the opposite wall. Pansy was the last person she wanted to see at this moment, but, unfortunately, it seemed like an inevitable conversation, so she braced herself for the onslaught.

"You walk pretty fast, you know, Granger," Pansy panted, pushing past a group of laughing girls gathered in the centre of the corridor, and coming face to face with Hermione.

"Do I?" Hermione said coolly, looking Pansy up and down. She looked tired; there were shadows lurking beneath her eyes, although one wouldn't see them upon first glance. Reluctantly, Hermione supposed Pansy was quite accomplished at pretending to be fine - quite like her, in a way.

"Yes," she replied, rummaging in her bag. A scrap of paper slipped onto the floor, and reflexively, Hermione bent to pick it up. The paper was smooth between her fingers, and she flipped it over to see the words on the other side, but before she could read it, Pansy snatched it away, and shoved a bundle of papers into her hand instead.

"What's this?" Hermione asked, hesitantly flipping through pages and pages of writing, and neat diagrams, and elegant illustrations, all written in a small, cramped hand.

"It's the potions assignment," Pansy said, proudly and - funnily - almost shyly. "I took what you had and finished it last night. Of course, if you want to change anything, you can," she added hastily. "I know I'm not the best writer."

Hermione was speechless. She was unable to comprehend that Pansy had actually done this for her - she hadn't even expected assistance with the project. And it was not just the bare minimum, but detailed notes, analysis, instructions, and all written in what looked to be Pansy's greatest attempt at neat handwriting - which was actually quite successful.

"I -"

"You don't have to say anything," Pansy interrupted. "I don't want thanks. And I guess this is sort of a shitty apology for all those years I spent being cruel to you. I don't want or think that I deserve your forgiveness in anyway. I just want you to know that I am no longer out to hurt you." She smiled a little, but there was a slight sadness in her eyes, then began to walk away, fiddling with something between her fingers. Impulsively, Hermione ran after her, and embraced her tightly, albeit a little awkwardly. Pansy stiffened, a little surprised, but wrapped her arms around Hermione. 

"Thank you," Hermione murmured. "I don't know how I would have finished it without your help."

"Really, it's okay," Pansy said, pulling away. "I'm glad you think it's good enough." She laughed. "Hermione Granger thinks my work is good enough!"

They both blushed.

"I have to go," Hermione said, glancing at her watch. "I have Transfiguration."

"Then I guess I'll see you around, Granger," Pansy smirked, moving backwards down the corridor, unfazed by the stares she was receiving.

"I guess so, Parkinson," Hermione called back, laughing.

Pansy grinned, and with a sharp swish of her robes, disappeared dramatically around the corner.

---  

Hermione was practically skipping as she entered the common room that evening, although she would have struggled to explain why to someone who asked her. There was a warmth within her chest and a spring in her step, and she put it down to having her potions assignment completed and out of the way.

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