One hundred thoughts race through his mind as he boards the train for the third-to-last time, summer holidays behind him.
Mum's not here—usual. There's the idiot Longbottom, who has half a brain. There's Draco—bleh—and Daphne—bleh a lot more. And there—there she is.
He waves to Draco, though he hates the bloke, and he smiles at Daphne, though she's a flake. He makes his way slowly to the back of the train, to the last compartment. And then he steps inside and shuts the door, trying to look hostile.
It never works on her. She slides in through the door she's managed to half-open in the second that he looks away. She grins at him, her mischievous grin, and he's got to remind herself that she's Draco's girl, untouchable.
She plops down opposite him. "I can't stay long," she says cheerfully, "but that's expected." She gives him a Chocolate Frog, and they clink their packages together.
"To Slytherin!" she says.
"To Hogwarts," he murmurs. They nod at each other and rip open their packages.
"Who'd you get?" she asks, eagerly.
He gives her a half-smile. "Old Dumbles again."
She grimaces. "I've got, like, fifty of him. And I've eaten about fifty-two Chocolate Frogs. That's fifty-two cards. And ninety-six percent is made up of The Senile."
He can't help but laugh. No one but he knows she's a whiz at maths; the best there is at Hogwarts. Better than Granger, at any rate. Yet no one thinks to ask was her Arithmancy grade is. "Eew. Too many. Look, you can have my collection—I've got Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Flamel, and Uric the Oddball."
She grins as he passes the cards over. They are silent as they chew and she reviews the cards critically, evidently liking what she sees. "Last Hogwarts ride," she comments. As she says it, the train lurches, puffs, and then starts up, and suddenly they're roaring by the platform that his mother doesn't bother to occupy.
"Not technically," he says, staring out the window at the swiftly-moving landscapes. "Christmas break, and Easter."
She rolls her eyes and slaps his knee—and hard, too, for a girl. "Stop being precise," she tells him, but she can't keep her mouth from twitching.
He grabs her hand to stop her from slapping him again, and then, when he realizes what he's done, drops it like a hot coal, his face red. "Sorry," he murmurs.
"No trouble," she says, happy-go-lucky as ever. He looks up and sees that she knows what he means—he's not talking about precision. Despite her outward appearance, she's different than everyone expects of her.
She smiles, and he can't help but smile back. "Last Hogwarts ride," he says, thoughtfully.
"Not technically," she teases, and he slaps her knee.
A/N: This was Pansy Parkinson & Blaise Zabini—my apologies about the lack of names. It just felt better. Thank my friend Crina for my Pansy/Blaise obsession…
This was written for the Back to School challenge. Hope you enjoyed, and please review!
