Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Round 9

Team: Holyhead Harpies

Position: Beater 1

Task: Write a fic based on the Shakespeare play 'Much Ado About Nothing'

Prompts Used:

(dialogue) "That is literally the worst thing ever!"

(word) burning

Word Count: 2,946

It was the third time that week that Draco had slipped out of the common room in the evening, and Pansy was beginning to get suspicious.

Unaware that he'd been seen, the fifth year hurried down a passage concealed behind a tapestry. A moment later, Pansy followed. Draco had been acting slightly odd for at least a week. He'd been more withdrawn, less vindictive; it was as if he were being influenced by someone else…

Pansy almost shuddered at the thought of Draco consorting with anyone who could elicit such a change in Draco's attitude. That couldn't be what this was…could it?

She dismissed the idea with a laugh. There were so many possibilities for his shiftiness, and this was at the very bottom of the list. Maybe he was studying for something. Maybe he was planning a secret party for Pansy! Her eyes lit up at the thought, and she hurried down the winding passage after him.

After walking for the better part of an hour, Pansy saw the blond figure up ahead slip through a doorway and leave the passage. Hardly daring to breathe, Pansy sidled up to the doorway and pressed her ear to the wood. She could hear two very faint muffled voices. One was clearly Draco's, but the other was pitched higher—a girl, then. But who?

Curiosity getting the better of her, Pansy crouched down and peered through the tiny keyhole on the door. All she could see through it was Draco's back, and she cursed under her breathe. "Move to the side, damn it," she whispered angrily, but of course Draco didn't hear her.

Unable to see past the boy no matter what angle she tried, Pansy finally gave in and placed a hand on the door handle. There was no way she could open the door unseen, not if the girl was facing Draco; her best option was to pull it open, see who the girl was, then high-tail it back down the passage and to the Slytherin common room. With a bit of luck, the girl might not even see her face.

She silently counted to three, then flung open the door, praying that it wasn't a teacher out there.

Draco heard the door open and turned to look, his eyes widening in surprise. Behind him, Pansy saw who he was with—and let out a shriek.

Granger?

Confusion and disbelief overcame Pansy, and she abandoned the open door to run back down the passage, not even caring that they had both definitely seen exactly who she was. She paused a few yards into the tunnel to give Draco a chance to catch up and explain. However, she soon realised that he hadn't even chased after her. Did he really not care about her at all?

Pansy didn't register that her feet had started moving again until she pushed though the tapestry and practically fell into the common room, tears gathering in her eyes and clouding her vision. She roughly pushed away the questioning people and almost ran to her dormitory, pulled the curtains shut behind her, and collapsed on the bed, the tears now running freely down her face.

She didn't even understand why she was upset. Draco was free to meet with whatever girls he wanted—no matter her wishes on the matter, Pansy and Draco were not together. Sure, they had shared a kiss many months ago. But it had meant nothing to Draco, and she had pretended the same. So really, she had no business telling him who he could or could not be involved with.

It still hurt, though.

The next morning, Draco cornered Pansy in the common room as soon as she descended the stairs.

"Pansy," he called, a sense of desperate urgency in his voice that she rarely heard.

Pansy glared at him as coldly as she could and tried to push past him. But one of his strong arms encircled her waist and pulled her back, and Pansy tried not to swoon.

Did that bushy-haired freak understand quite what she had? Pansy seriously doubted it.

"Please, let me explain." He released her quickly and rubbed his neck awkwardly. "Hermione and I…I don't know how it happened. I honestly don't. But it has, and we're so happy together."

Pansy ignored the stab of pain in her heart those words brought her. "She's a mudblood. That is literally the worst thing ever!"

To Pansy's shock and dismay, Draco actually looked offended at those words. "Pansy," he said quietly, his voice soft and gentle even though Pansy could tell he was getting angry. "There's no such thing. I realise that now." He chuckled at the look of surprise on the girl's face. "Her blood is as beautiful as any of ours. It doesn't make her a more terrible person, or a less worthy witch." Draco gave Pansy a pointed look at this, one that seemed to be saying: she's better at magic than you, so what would that say about the state of your blood?

The girl sighed and decided to let this go—for now, at least. Draco gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Thanks for being cool about this, Pans," he told her, his lips barely two inches away from her own. She felt his breath against her face and had to take a deep, steadying breath. "Please don't tell anyone."

"I won't," she muttered, and Draco's face broke into a grin. To Pansy's surprise—and delight—he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

"You're the best, Pansy. I knew you'd be cool with this."

And with that, Draco left the common room. Pansy smirked. He didn't honestly believe she wouldn't meddle, did he? Dating that mudblood must have made him weak.

Pansy sank onto the sofa and began plotting the best way to ruin his relationship —and have him crawling back to her.

It was only by chance that Pansy stumbled upon the most important aspect of her plan. She was on her way to Charms class after finishing breakfast that same morning, when she walked past an empty classroom with the door slightly ajar. From inside, Pansy heard the unmistakeable sounds of kissing.

She hovered outside the door for a few moments until curiosity got the better of her. Pansy peered through the frosted white pane of glass in the door and her jaw dropped at the sight inside: the pair making out furiously on a desk inside were none other than Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley!

A wicked grin crossed her face as the final parts of her plan slipped into place. She let the door fall closed with a loud click and walked quickly down the corridor leaving Harry and Ginny to wonder who had seen them.

"Weasley!"

Ron heard his name hissed from behind him and turned around, looking wildly from side to side.

"Meet me in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom in fifteen minutes," said the voice again, this time right behind his ear. He spun around, but everyone was walking past as normal. He turned to catch up with Harry and Hermione, but then curiosity took over, and he found himself heading for the second floor bathroom.

It only took five minutes to reach his destination, but he went inside anyway, preferring to wait in private—or with Myrtle, technically—than alone in a corridor. He sat himself facing the door, so that the mysterious person he would meet could not sneak in. When the door finally opened, the person who came in made his jaw drop.

Pansy Parkinson.

Ron stood up immediately, his hands curling into fists. "Parkinson?" he growled, his eyes narrowing. Had she brought him here to set him up for something?

The pug-faced girl cracked a grin. "And hello to you, too, Weasley," she said. "I was expecting a slightly less hostile greeting. With that attitude, I feel like maybe I shouldn't pass on the information I came here to give you…"

His eyes widened in interest. "Information?" he asked, internally cursing himself for his obvious eagerness.

Pansy laughed. "What if I were to tell you that there is a lot going on with your friends that you aren't aware of?"

Ron frowned. "What do you mean? Who do you mean?"

"Oh, just a certain scar-faced idiot and his buck-toothed companion." She put a hand to her mouth in a mock shocked face. "Oh, I'm sorry, you probably don't want me to insult her, do you?" Pansy dropped the hand.

"I don't—"

"Don't even bother pretending, Ginger. I see the way you look at her."

The retort died on Ron's lips and he slumped back against the wall. "What about Harry and Hermione?" he forced himself to ask, even though he was dreading the answer. The pair weren't a couple…were they? If Pansy knew about his feelings for Hermione, then surely Harry did, too. In that case, Ron knew Harry wouldn't do anything. They were best friends.

"How would you feel if I told you that they were both in secret relationships? Not with each other, no," she added at his look of outrage, "but with two people that…well, let's just say you will not approve of their matches."

Ron glared at her, curiosity and anger burning within him. "Will you just bloody tell me who they are dating?"

Sighing, Pansy relinquished control of the situation. "Harry…" she said slowly, "is dating Ginny."

"What?"

"And Hermione is in a relationship with Draco."

It took three decimated toilet stalls and a lot of water thrown in his face, but eventually Ron was capable of normal speech. "You mean to tell me," he said between shuddering breaths, "that my best mate is dating my sister, behind my back, and the girl that I—that I like is going out with my worst enemy? With, supposedly, her worst enemy?"

"I'm afraid so," Pansy said nonchalantly. She took a step closer to Ron, staring at him seriously. "But there is something we can do about it. Although I doubt you're up for it…"

Ron almost jumped forward in eagerness. "No, I'll do it!" he said readily. "Whatever it is, I will do it. Anything to stop that backstabbing traitor snogging my sister…and to protect 'Mione from that Slyherin scum. No offence," he added as an afterthought, although she probably knew he didn't mean that.

"So what we're going to do," Pansy said, retrieving from her pockets a vial of a thick brown substance as she did, "is tip this into Hermione's pumpkin juice tomorrow morning."

"What will it do?" he asked warily, noting the excited glint in Pansy's eyes.

"Oh, relax," she said, waving a hand. "I'm not going to poison the school's most prized swot. As to what it does do, however… Well, you'll have to wait and see, won't you? I rather like the idea of keeping my brilliant plan a secret for a while longer."

Ron sighed, but didn't argue. "So where do I come into this?" he asked. "I mean, why did you even bother to tell me any of this?"

"Isn't it obvious? I can't spike Hermione's drink. For one, she sits on the other side of the Great Hall. Not to mention the fact that she would be very suspicious—as would Draco." She shook her head. "No, it makes a lot more sense for you to do it. Pour this into her drink tomorrow morning. Then, if everything goes to plan, you will have your 'Mione back again,"

It must have been Ron's anger tainting his judgement. Maybe it was just the fact that he felt betrayed. It must have been something, though, because a clearly-thinking Ronald would not have done what this one did: reach out and shake Pansy Parkinson's small, pale hand and agree to sabotage the relationships of his two best friends.

"Does the pumpkin juice taste slightly strange to you today?" Hermione asked, frowning as she swirled around the liquid in her goblet.

Ron shrugged, hoping it wasn't obvious how much he was panicking inside. "A little, I guess."

Hermione shrugged and took another sip. "I guess it's just a dodgy batch," she said.

"Yeah, probably," Ron forced a small laugh, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Oh, Merlin!" Harry rushed over to Hermione.

Hermione turned to him, wide-eyed. "What is it?" she asked.

"'Mione… Your hair! It's… It's orange!"

Pulling a lock of hair round to the front, Hermione did notice a decidedly orange tinge after examining it. In fact, as she and Harry watched, the hue grew steadily brighter, until she was as much of a redhead as any of the Weasleys—exactly the same colour, in fact.

"Oh, no," Hermione mumbled, shoving her hat onto her head. "What could have happened?"

Ron didn't comment.

"What happened to your hair?" Draco asked as Hermione came through the door to the Astronomy Tower that night.

Hermione shrugged helplessly. "I honestly have no idea."

Draco entwined his arms around Hermione's waist and nuzzled deep into her neck. "I think it looks beautiful," he murmured. "But…it's not permanent, right?"

"Merlin, I hope not," she said. "It just turned ginger this morning, completely randomly. I didn't dye it myself, I swear!"

Draco laughed and ran a hand through it. "Someone's idea of a joke, I guess," he said quietly, before his head tilted to meet hers and their lips met and they forgot all about her hair.

Go to the Astronomy Tower at nine.

Harry glanced again at the anonymous note he had received earlier. Who had sent it? His first guess had been Ginny, but they usually signed their notes with codenames. Unless Ginny was trying to surprise him…

When he arrived, the door was slightly ajar. Harry eased it open more and slipped through, hoping to creep up on Ginny and make her jump.

He glanced around the dark tower, finally noticing a moving shape in the opposite corner. Harry moved closer, hugging the wall so she wouldn't see him. When he got closer, he saw Ginny's familiar shock of red hair, that was moving about as… as… as she passionately kissed Draco Malfoy.

Harry stumbled back as if he'd been shot. Without a word to the couple, he slipped from the room and ran all the way back to the common room and to his bed, without a word to anyone.

"You bitch!"

The words hit Ginny as she entered the Great Hall the next day, and she was shocked to hear them, to say the least. Her surprise grew when she realised the words came from none other than Harry. "Excuse me?" she said angrily.

"You heard me," he said calmly. "You're. A. Bitch. Don't try to act all innocent, either. I was there last night. I saw."

Ginny stared at him, anger and confusion battling for dominance. "You saw what?" she asked. "And please, keep your voice down, people are staring," she hissed, glancing around at the people shooting them curious glances.

"I know you are a lying, cheating bitch!" Harry yelled, tears prickling at the edges of his eyes.

A hand fluttered to her chest. "How dare you!" she shouted back, her screech rivalling the ferocity of the Howlers. "I have not cheated on you, you arse. Why would you even think that?"

"I saw you with Malfoy last night! I saw you in the Astronomy Tower. I know."

Ginny opened her mouth to reply, but from the corner of her eye she noticed that Hermione and Draco had both stood up. Hermione was staring at Draco, a look of shock on her face. "You kissed Ginny last night?" she asked, her voice strangely hollow.

The Slytherin shook his head vehemently at the accusation. "I did no such thing!"

Hermione looked at the enchanted ceiling, then at the floor, then finally back at him. "Was it after I left?" she asked in a voice so quiet, he wouldn't have been able to hear if the Hall hadn't been silent to listen to the drama.

"It didn't happen at all, I swear!"

She shook her head. "How am I supposed to believe that?" Hermione asked, the betrayal she felt evident in her bitter voice.

It was all too much for Ron. As he looked back and forth between Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Draco, his gaze finally settled on Pansy. She was seated next to Draco, a satisfied gleam in her eyes that let Ron know this was exactly what she had been planning from the start.

He supposed he should have known that no plan of Pansy's would have been painless, but he still hadn't thought she would do this. It was havoc.

The chair screeched against the floor as Ron pushed it back and stood up shakily. He couldn't do this. He couldn't be responsible for his friends' pain. "Neither of them cheated," Ron said, his voice echoing around the mute room. "Harry, who you saw that night was not Ginny, but Hermione. She was faithful. And Hermione." He turned to face the girl in question. "Draco did not cheat on you. Harry saw you, with your ginger hair, and thought you were Ginny."

All four of them stared at him. "How did you know about us?" Harry finally asked, his voice shaky.

"And how did you know about Draco and I?" Hermione added.

"It's a long story that I'm not at all proud of," he said. "And I don't want to talk about it." All eyes still on him, Ron sat back down. "I'll tell you later, though," he promised his fellow Gryffindors, before tucking back into his dinner.