The Downfall of Pansy Parkinson

Disclaimer: have never owned, don't own, never will own

A/N: this is the sequel to A Common Bond, although nowhere near as angsty. It can be read without A Common Bond having been read before. For anyone who hasn't read ACB, Blaise Zabini features as a girl here – although JK has since confirmed that Blaise is actually a boy. Oh well. Too late for ACB and therefore this story.

Chapter 1: Provocation

"Have you seen my Transfig homework?" demanded sixth-year Blaise Zabini, slamming her hands down loudly on a table in the Slytherin common room. Her action startled her best friend Draco Malfoy as she leaned in extremely close to him.

Draco raised his blond head from his Arithmancy calculations. "Seen what?" he asked, blinking at her in confusion.

Blaise made an impatient noise. "My Transfiguration homework. Have you seen it?"

Draco shook his head. "No. Where did you last leave it?"

"It was on the table when we were in the library earlier!" Blaise tossed her head irritably, sending her wild mass of dark brown corkscrew-tight curls flying into the face of third-year Malcolm Baddock. He glared at her and attempted to hex her, but she merely stuck her leg out behind her and he fell over it.

"Did you leave it in the library?" suggested Draco, reaching down and snatching up Baddock's wand. "Baddock, you can have your wand back at breakfast tomorrow."

"I don't know!" wailed Blaise, throwing her hands up in the air. "I can't remember! I went to get that book for Muggle Studies and then we left the library! And the blasted homework is due in first thing tomorrow morning! And it's already nine-thirty at night now!"

"Tell McGonagall."

"Oh, like she'll believe me," snorted Blaise derisively. "We're talking about the head of Gryffindor here!"

"And you are a model student," Draco reminded her. "She'll believe you. Trust me."

Blaise arched one carefully-marked eyebrow. "She will?"

"You're Blaise Zabini. She'll believe you." Draco shut his Arithmancy books and gathered up his stationery, getting to his feet. "I'm going to put my books in my dorm, round up the lower years and then my bed awaits me. I'm knackered."

"Isn't Pansy supposed to be helping you?" inquired Blaise, attempting – and failing miserably – to tuck her wild mass of curls behind her ears.

Draco made a scornful noise. "Pansy Parkinson has to be one of the worst prefects this school has ever seen. I can't actually remember the last time she did help round up the munchkins." He strode swiftly off up the stairs to the sixth-year boys' dormitory. "Quite why Snape chose her for prefect is beyond me. Maybe all the fumes from standing over potions all day long has addled his reasoning abilities."

Blaise was close behind him, and when they reached the dorm, she threw herself stomach-down onto Draco's bed, knees bent and lower legs in the air, and chin propped up in her hands. "How are you holding up?" she asked in a more serious tone, waving her feet in the air.

Draco dropped his bag to the floor with a loud thunk and dropped the books next to it. "I'm fine," he replied noncommittally. "As usual."

"How's your mum?"

"Same as always." He sighed heavily. "I know she'll never get any better. I've accepted that now. Come on, let's go and round up the munchkins. I think most of them think you're the sixth-year girls' prefect anyway."

"I know. And I need to find a way to sort Pansy once and for all."

"We can do that tomorrow. Now come on. And please straighten my bedclothes."

Transfiguration duly arrived the next morning. Blaise and Draco sat together at the front, near Neville Longbottom, a Gryffindor with whom they had recently formed a solid friendship. This had come about after Draco's mother had suffered the same fate as Neville's parents.

Next to Neville sat the school brainbox, Hermione Granger, and behind them were Hermione's best friends, Ron Weasley (rumoured to fancy Granger madly but too scared to ask her out; "some Gryffindor courage there," Blaise had snorted scornfully) and Harry Potter. Pansy was in the far back corner with Mandy Brocklehurst of Ravenclaw, after McGonagall had separated Pansy and Millicent Bulstrode for talking too much and not doing any work.

As Draco and Blaise walked into the room, Pansy sauntered up to them, a smirk plastered onto her face – a smirk that neither Blaise nor Draco liked in the least. "Thanks for the loan of the essay, Zabini," said Pansy sweetly. "It was most helpful. So kind of you to leave it on the library table for me while you went off to get some books." She casually tossed Blaise's unfinished, and now very crumpled, essay onto her desk.

Blaise stared at her in fury. "Why you –"

"Good morning, class."

The room instantly fell silent as Professor McGonagall strode in. Blaise narrowed her deep green eyes at Pansy, and hissed, "Bad move, Parkinson! You are seriously going to regret doing that! I shall personally see to it!" Her anger made her West Midlands accent even more pronounced than usual.

"Miss Parkinson, Miss Zabini, kindly take your seats – yes, Miss Zabini?"

"I haven't been able to finish my essay," Blaise informed her in a cool voice. She allowed her intense gaze to rest briefly on Pansy. "Someone stole it to copy it – to cheat – and only returned it two minutes ago."

"Hand it in tomorrow morning, then. Now sit, so that I can begin the lesson. Mr. Weasley, I don't believe I can see your essay…?"

"Can I hand it in tomorrow as well?" asked Weasley hopefully.

"Absolutely not. You've already handed one essay in late this term and it's only October, so that will be five points from Gryffindor," returned McGonagall curtly. Weasley opened his mouth to protest but Potter kicked him and he shut his mouth again. Granger leaned back and Draco distinctly saw her tell him that it served him right.

McGonagall flicked her wand at the board and silence descended as the lesson began.

There was no time for Blaise to say anything to Draco during the lesson, and afterwards they split, Blaise to Muggle Studies and Draco to Ancient Runes with Granger. At lunchtime Blaise was absent from the Great Hall as she had arranged to tutor a fourth-year in Arithmancy – partly because she liked the girl and partly because it could only benefit her campaign to claim Pansy's position for her own.

The Potions lesson after lunch was quite small, consisting solely of students that had achieved Outstanding on their OWL exam. Nobody dared speak, as Professor Snape was in an even fouler mood than usual (which, Blaise had commented afterwards, took some doing), as he had been upset earlier in the day by Peeves the poltergeist. Other members of the class included Granger, Potter, Dean Thomas, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan, Mandy Brocklehurst, Anthony Goldstein, Terry Boot and Theodore Nott, along with a couple of others that Blaise didn't really know. Weasley had reportedly only just scraped an Acceptable in his OWL and therefore was not in the class.

Draco, Blaise and Theodore escaped the moment Snape dismissed them, the latter abandoning them the moment Blaise announced her intention of going to the library. They needed to do some work for Herbology, and the book they needed was a Reference Only (Removal from Library will result in Serious Consequences) one. Rumour had it that the librarian, Madam Pince, had placed several hexes on Reference Only books to prevent their removal from the library, and that these hexes included the wrongdoer's hands being burned and their skin developing disgusting multicoloured lumps. This would then result in a visit to Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing to reverse the effects of the hex.

Draco sat down at a table in the corner and got out his books, while Blaise hunted down the book they needed. During her absence, Neville appeared and joined Draco. "How are you?" he asked, sitting down. He had earlier arranged to meet the two Slytherins to study for Herbology.

"I wish people would stop asking me that," growled Draco. "I'm fine, except for the workload. Be grateful you don't do Arithmancy. You can tell Vector's ex-Ravenclaw by the sheer quantity of homework she dumps on us."

"I can sympathise; we get loads for Muggle Studies." Neville pulled out his Herbology notes. "Where's Blaise? Her things are here, but –"

"I'm here." Blaise practically threw the six hefty tomes that she was carrying, onto the table. Her eyes were blazing and she was so angry her hands were trembling. Her unfinished Transfiguration essay was also flung onto the table, on top of the books. "We can't use that Herbology book we need."

"Why not?"

"Because someone – a certain someone that doesn't even do Herbology – has the blasted thing!" Blaise snapped, violently shoving her shirt and jumper sleeves up to her elbows.

"Oh." Neville glanced nervously at Draco, who arched one pale eyebrow.

"I have had enough of that stupid, stuck-up cow deliberately doing all that stuff for the sole reason of annoying me! I can't stand this any more! She is not fit to be a prefect! I have to do something!"

"Any idea what?" inquired Draco, picking up one of the books from the pile Blaise had dumped on the table. He was taking a calmer approach to this than his fiery best friend. Malfoys were good at cool and collected. "You have to be clever, sneaky and calculating in plotting your revenge. You are a Slytherin, after all."

Blaise flung herself melodramatically into an unoccupied chair, letting out a frustrated growl. "I know, but what can I do?"

"I could ask Hermione," offered Neville. "If anyone knows how to sort Pansy out, it's her."

"I'm not having Granger involved," Draco immediately objected.

"She dislikes Pansy as much as you, though," Neville pointed out. "I heard her complaining only yesterday about her for not doing her prefect duties properly. She'll probably be willing to help!"

"Do ask her; she might have an idea or two," agreed Blaise, kicking Draco hard under the table before he could object further. "In the meantime, if we come up with something better, even if Granger suggests anything, we can do that.

"Now, to more immediate issues. The Incendio plant. We've got to be prepared to deal with it by tomorrow's lesson."

"Valuable for potion-making," Draco promptly informed her.

"Neville?"

Neville obligingly launched into a long, detailed explanation of how to handle said plant safely, and Pansy Parkinson was temporarily put on hold.

It was eight o'clock that evening when Neville got back to the Gryffindor common room. Harry and Ron were playing wizards' chess (Harry, it appeared, was losing rather badly), Dean and Seamus Finnigan were struggling over Divination homework, and Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were in a corner giggling over an article in Witch Weekly. Hermione was curled up by the fire in an armchair not too far from Ron and Harry, her huge ginger cat Crookshanks in her lap and purring loudly. She was, naturally, reading. Neville approached her warily, not wanting to get too close to Crookshanks. "Er, Hermione?"

Hermione withdrew her bushy head from the depths of the huge book. "Yes?"

"Er…How do you get back at someone without letting on that it's you who's doing it?"

Hermione closed the book and motioned for him to pull up a chair. "Sit down and explain. Who do you want to get revenge on and for what?"

"It's not actually me," Neville informed her, sitting down on the chair. "It's Blaise. She wants to get back at Pansy Parkinson after the stunt she pulled in Transfiguration. She also thinks that she'd be a much better prefect than Pansy, but she doesn't know what to do."

"Frame her," suggested Hermione promptly. "I would. She deserves nothing less. Besides, the sooner I don't have to see her at prefect meetings, the better."

Neville's jaw fell open and he stared at her, astounded by what he had just heard. "You're advocating deception? You, Hermione Granger, rule-keeper and enforcer extraordinaire?"

Hermione shrugged. "Not quite the 'rule-keeper' bit. Anyway, this concerns Pansy Parkinson. As a result, the goalposts have moved somewhat. Polyjuice Potion. It's in Moste Potente Potions in the Restricted Section of the library, although I wrote the directions out in case I ever needed them again and couldn't get hold of the book. I'll get it for you. Actually, if you like, I can make it for you – or perhaps for Blaise, seeing as I'm not sure whether it can be used to transform into a member of the opposite sex, and now would not be the best time to find out."

"It's probably better if you make it; I got a P for my Potions OWL," replied Neville wryly. "Blaise is fairly good, though."

"Maybe she and I could work on it together – if she wants to, that is."

"I'll talk to her," Neville promised. "I'm sure she'll agree, though; she's never seemed to actively dislike you, and her family tend to be fence-sitters politically."

"I got that impression. Right, that's sorted. Have you done any of your essay for Professor Sprout yet?"

TBC

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