a/n: happy new year!

dedication: to a new start.

disclaimer: i don't own anything.

summary: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. – Hermione, Pansy.


fireworks

three…two…one…


She had no idea why she was here.

That was untrue – Hermione did know why she was here, it involved Harry's puppydog eyes and Ginny's impromptu drinking contest and Ronald being, well, Ronald, but since she refused to acknowledge that she had agreed to this in a fit of drunken stupidity, Hermione maintained the fact that she had no idea why she was here.

She could leave, of course, but she could feel Ginny's sharp eyes watching her from across the garden and Hermione knew that if she left, Ginny would make sure she would never forget why she was here.

Evil girl, really. Hermione wondered why she hadn't been Sorted into Slytherin.

"Hello, Granger." Speaking of Slytherins…

Hermione turned to see Pansy sit in the chair next to hers, facing in the same direction, across the gardens. It was a Ministry gala – a party to celebrate the New Year and it was a ridiculously formal affair, with men in black silk robes and women glittering in ball gowns and of course it couldn't be held anywhere except Malfoy Manor.

"Hello, Parkinson," she replied after a minute of scrutinizing the blonde girl. She looked nice, shimmering in a – gasp, decently cut – Slytherin green dress. Hermione checked for an engagement ring and found none – Hermione: one, Ginny: zero. Not everyone in their batch was married, after all.

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, watching the sprawling gardens from their vantage point. Couples milled around, murmurs creating a low buzz in the air as disembodied chuckles rang out. It was beautiful – Hermione had to give Narcissa credit for that. Fairies fluttered from bush to push and peacocks strutted at the edge of the hedges, floating lanterns drifting in the wind. Fountains gushed crickets chirped, adding to the light sound emanating from the party.

That would change, of course, but the New Year was still half an hour away and Hermione had that much time to sit in her chair and sulk like a little child.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Pansy asked, echoing Hermione's thought, "Mrs. Malfoy really went all out this year."

Hermione made a soft sound of agreement, watching the older blonde woman talk to the Minister with an elegant smile on her face.

They lapsed into silence again and that would have been that, if Draco Malfoy hadn't chose to saunter up like he owned the place – wait a minute. Hermione glared at her wine glass as her former classmate came to a stop in front of her – she was really going to stop drinking one day. It led to all sorts of bad decisions and crippled intelligence and it killed your liver while it was at it.

"Granger, Pansy," Draco's smile didn't quite reach his eyes, "What a delight."

"Likewise," Hermione muttered, unwilling to take it up with him and continuing her staring contest with the dark liquid in her glass.

"Drakie-poo!" Pansy grinned, saccharine and Hermione was startled enough to dart up in shock, dropping her wine glass and staining her dress.

There was another reason – the most likely ridiculously expensive firewhiskey was ruining her pretty pink dress.

Draco looked as shocked as she felt, by the combination of Pansy's sudden cheer and Hermione's knee-jerk reaction, and only stared at the two of them, thoroughly bemused, before walking away.

Hermione observed the back of his head – it was a really nice head, too – and blinked, "I think you broke him."

Pansy also stared after him, thoughtful, "I might have – but you helped." She looked down at Hermione's dress, which was turning a god-awful shade of brown. "Come, we have to fix that dress before it's impossible to save."

Hermione let Pansy lead her away from the gardens and into the Manor itself, walking down a corridor before they reached a bathroom. Her head felt like it was splitting open – her hangover still hadn't disappeared and what they said about alcohol curing hangovers was completely untrue. That, or she just hadn't drunk enough.

"I used to come here every summer, you know," Pansy said as they stepped into the bathroom, "Until sixth year, of course, but since we were children, Draco and I used to play in those gardens." She took out her wand and waved it, the firewhiskey seamlessly evaporating and leaving pure pink behind.

"I came here once and regretted every minute of it."

"I know," Pansy gave her a searching look before leaning against the wall, idly tapping her manicured fingernails, "Draco told me."

"Sounds like you guys were best friends," Hermione said, unable to keep the bitterness out of her tone – why did she care if Draco Malfoy told all her secrets to other people? Why did she care that Pansy got to know everything about him while Harry and Ron still refused to tell her anything?

"We still are," Pansy smiled sharply and Hermione could detect the bitterness in her tone, too. She instantly felt a surge of empathy. "But he's stopped talking to me lately. You know that bitch he's with – Astoria Greengrass?" Hermione vaguely recalls a petite girl hanging off of Draco's arm and nods. "Yeah, well she doesn't deserve him and Draco's the only one who can't see it. Hell, even Daphne agrees and who knows that little slut better than her own sister?"

Hermione boosted herself on the counter – if they were going to stay in the bathroom, she might as well get comfortable. "I take it that he doesn't care for your opinion," Hermione stated.

"Mhm," Pansy said, "And I've been giving him the bipolar treatment for like ages, now. Poor wittle Draco has no idea what to do."

Poor was right. Hermione looked into the other girl's scheming eyes and inwardly shuddered for her former rival.

"But the thing is, Draco's so bloody difficult to get a girl for," Pansy sighed, "He's proud and someone really needs to take him down a notch, but he's still a great guy, you know? I don't want him to end up in a miserable marriage with some gold-digging whore."

Hermione muttered her agreement and wondered how the conversation came to this.

Pansy's eyes suddenly lit up with something that Hermione could only describe as evil, having seen the same expression on Ginny's face too many times to count.

"No," she said flatly, before Pansy could even open her mouth, "Whatever it is you're thinking, no."

Unfortunately, Pansy didn't pay her any attention, "It could be you. You're smart and he's smart and you can totally have him whipped and you're nice and ohmigod your babies will be beautiful!"

Hermione had a sudden flash of horror and resolved to never let Ginny meet Pansy. One at a time was bad enough.

"Pansy, no," Hermione slowly edged towards the door, "Thank you for fixing my dress but I never wanted to come here and I'm going now so –"

"It's a very pretty dress."

Hermione stopped edging away and watched Pansy with suspicion, "What."

"It's a very pretty dress," Pansy said, smiling as if nothing was wrong, "You wore it to the Yule ball, right? It's the same dress, isn't it?" Hermione nodded – Ginny had been furious when she realized that Hermione had just modified her old dress rather than buying a new one – wondering exactly where Pansy was going with this.

"Draco really liked this dress, you know," Pansy's smile grew more predatory and she stalked towards Hermione, coincidentally cutting off her escape. "He thought you looked beautiful in it."

Hermione looked at Pansy with wide doe eyes as she closed in.


Of course, the universe hated her and so Ginny and Pansy met. They actually met and Hermione didn't think that the universe appreciated how cataclysmic an event this was because there they were, giggling and talking and shooting evil, manipulative looks towards her every few seconds.

"What are you doing?" Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin as an irritated voice sounded behind her. Using war-honed reflexes, she caught the person's hand and tugged him to a kneeling position next to her before resuming her vigil.

"Granger, what are you doing?" Draco's voice sounded in her ear, following her line of sight to where Ginny and Pansy were talking, Harry and Ron hiding behind a tree a few feet away.

"I'm planning an escape," she retorted.

Draco looked at her, then the hedge they were currently hiding behind, and her again before giving up. "Why are you planning an escape, Granger?"

"They met," Hermione said fearfully and Draco only blinked at her, clearly not understanding the magnitude of the declaration. "Malfoy, they met!" she whisper-yelled, waving a hand at Ginny and Pansy.

Draco looked at her, clearly of the opinion she was insane, but looked back at Ginny and Pansy and paled, "Oh dear Merlin."

Hermione resumed her watch, content that he finally understood, only to see that Pansy and Ginny had somehow disappeared.

And were standing right behind them.

"Hermione," Ginny smiled as if Hermione couldn't see the pure evil behind those big brown eyes, "What a coincidence! I was just looking for you!"

"And Drakie-poo," Pansy grinned, and Hermione wondered if she was imaging the shark teeth. A glance at Draco's ashen face confirmed that it wasn't a hallucination. "You might want to go tell your…date that you're going to be unavailable for the rest of the night. And year. Actually, for the rest of your life."

Hermione whimpered.

She really had no idea why she was here.


le fin


a/n: So…I have the feeling that this dissolved in crack halfway through.