Hello Readers,

Here's a new one shot. I haven't had much time to write so this is a little something I came up with off the top of my head this morning. It's a take on the start of DM/HG's relationship through the perspective of HP/PP.

Enjoy!

M. x

"What a lovely evening," Pansy Parkinson purred sardonically as she lifted the champagne flute to her perfectly pouting lips.

The man beside her laughed without humor, his eyes scanning the ballroom in anticipation.

"That's left to be desired," Harry Potter murmured, turning to look at his date.

Pansy's laughter followed the irony of his statement.

"Do you think they will show?" she inquired, now watching Blaise Zabini sweep Loony Lovegood across the dance floor, her gown of radishes trailing behind. Pansy laughed again despite herself; five years since the end of the war and so much, yet so little, had actually changed.

"I hope not," Harry cringed, briefly nodding to Ginny who sent him a rude hand gesture before turning back to her own date. Some French Quidditch player he recognized from the last Cup.

She still hadn't forgiven Harry for breaking off their engagement. He just hadn't been ready for all that; it didn't mean he didn't still love her. But she cut him off, said it was nothing or all. And in that moment, Harry knew nothing was his choice.

"These Ministry Galas are always so dreadfully boring. Personally, I'd love a little drama to spice up the night," Pansy complained flippantly.

Harry glared at her warily.

"I swear Pansy, you're the only person I know who actively gets joy out of seeing her friends suffer."

She slapped his arm playfully.

"Come on, Potter. You know it's all in jest. If I wasn't mean to you, would we even be friends at all?" she asked innocently, swiping another glass of champagne as a waiter glided past.

She downed both of them, handing her empty glasses to Harry who promptly stuffed them into the parlor palm they were mingling near.

Yes, he and Pansy Parkinson had somehow become chummy. She was fun, really. She could distract him from his worst moods. She gave him a fresh perspective on life. It was odd really, but Harry seriously didn't have an option when it came to running into the Slytherin Ice Queen.

One, she worked at the Ministry for the past 4 years, two she dated his co-worker for the last 3 years and three she had helped him through his break up with Ginny for the past 2 months. She was reliable. Snarky, ridiculously inappropriate and outspoken, but she gave the hard truths and proved that loyalty had, in fact, been hiding somewhere away in her fractured soul.

His gaze moved back to Ginny who was now openly flaunting the massive diamonds she was draped in. Pansy followed his gaze.

"Stop staring, you're so obvious; and seriously, much better off without her. She's unhinged and high maintenance," Pansy finished, as she reapplied her lipstick with her wand, before storing it in the garter just visible above the daring slit in her tight black dress.

"It just sucks," Harry sighed, turning away and reaching for his flask.

"I know the feeling, you remember what a mess I was when Theo and I split."

Harry smirked at the reminder, he literally had to bind Pansy to his office chair to keep her from ripping Theo's head off the day he dumped her.

"Sad. Aren't we?" she mused as Theo and Dean Thomas entered hand in hand.

That one had been a real blow to her pride and her heart. Theo was the man she could shop with, he always told her if she looked like trash and he was the best at fine dining and impressing her family with gifts and culture. How had she missed it? He let her down gently, but it was still the worst day of her life. It was the day Pansy Parkinson vowed never to love again.

"Ahhhh. Well we could be worse off," Harry muttered as he looked at the clock nestled in gilded gold above the grand staircase. Pansy grabbed the flask from him, taking a deep swig.

"Yeah. We could be them," she snorted with relief.

Harry shuttered.

Them.

The reason he was already on edge tonight. The thought of seeing his best friend suffer brought him absolutely no pleasure. Hermione was the kindest of kind and she didn't deserve to be abused or infuriated, not after everything they had been through. If anyone deserved a happy and peaceful life, it was Hermione.

"She's obviously not the problem," Harry corrected, snatching the flask back from her.

Pansy scoffed with derision, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

"Of course not. Your precious princess is never at fault," she taunted.

"She's not in regards to this particular situation," he snapped back.

"Are you kidding me!? Wow, Potter. You really are delusional."

"Please do explain," he insisted, wiping a few drops of whiskey from the corner of her sinful mouth.

She paused at the gesture, but only for a split second.

"She's been leading him on for months," she spat, turning away and glaring out at the dancing and mingling crowd.

"Oh Merlin, Pans. I'm cutting you off now."

"I'm serious! She always plays the goody goody but I see how she looks at him. Masking her feelings with her prudish, know it all, brainy-"

"-Jealous much?" he smiled, looking her up and down.

She tensed at his tone and her eyes hardened a fraction.

"He's my best friend. I don't like seeing him strung along."

"Just because Hermione is a good soul and is kind to people, that doesn't mean she's being manipulative and selfish. Some of us actually have genuine relationships," he flung back in annoyance.

"Ouch, Potter. You almost hurt my feelings," she pouted prettily, placing her long black nails over her cold heart.

"He's the one in the wrong here and you know it," Harry insisted.

"Unlike you, I don't pretend that my best friend is perfect. I know he has his faults-" she began.

"-Understatement of the century-" Harry cut in.

"-But when he lashes out like he did today, it's because he cares and he's hurt," she concluded, snapping her fingers at another waiter who came rushing over to accommodate her. She tipped him several galleons and then turned her attention back to her annoying savior of a date."Draco Malfoy has a heart."

"From your lips to God's ears," Harry raised his flask to her and drank deeply.

"He's not a complete monster," Pansy snapped, downing her drink.

She had him there. Draco Malfoy had changed. Not much, but enough to make him bearable on a certain level.

Unlike Pansy, Harry almost never saw Malfoy at the office; he popped in and out of the Ministry like a ghost. He'd been working there for two years but most of his time was spent with the Minister, Kingsley hired him as an independent contractor and Harry was still unsure about the nature of the missions Malfoy was sent on. Pansy only knew that they were extremely dangerous, probably something to do with defected Death Eaters.

Yet when Harry saw Malfoy, he was cordial, closed off, but cordial. Though the bitterness never left his eyes. And much to Harry's chagrin, the more time he spent with Pansy, meant the more time he was stuck in the company of Malfoy. They tolerated one another, but then one day, Harry began to see the human side of him. Still snarky and arrogant, but no longer ignorant and prejudiced, he was starting to become…dare he say it, like-able?

Then everything changed.

Hermione spent 4 years looking for her parents, finding them, restoring their memories and relocating them back to England. She obsessively buried herself in guilt and did everything she could to make the situation right. Once her parents got back on their feet, they insisted that she get back to her life. She moved to London and joined the Ministry, heading the Beast, Being and Spirit Division in the department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures.

Harry remembered that fateful day, the very first week she started...

It was as if Pansy read his mind.

"Do you remember the first time they saw each other after the war?" she whispered softly, scanning the room once more.

Harry would never forget it.

Hermione had swung by his office to see if he was up for lunch, just as Malfoy dropped in to invite Pansy to the opera that evening. The two locked eyes, reached for their wands and then stopped. Like they were lost in their own world, they stared at one another as Pansy and he watched on in utter confusion until the tension became unbearable.

Pansy had broken the trance with a snarky introduction of one to the other. Granger, meet Malfoy. Malfoy...Granger.

Hermione and Malfoy fell into an uncomfortable place, unsure of how to act around one another, trying harder than necessary to seem normal, and it was a disaster for everyone. Their attempts at civility only lasted for two days, seeing as fate would make it a point to throw them into each other's paths. Kingsley had seen to that with his brilliant idea to transfer Malfoy into Hermione's department.

And once the first argument began, it set off a series of events that exhausted Harry and amused Pansy for the better part of the last year. More often then not, they would be seen together at least once a day, apparently working on projects that required both of their skills, and correcting one another to death. But Harry had a sneaking suspicion that Shacklebolt was onto something.

Their insults became sharper, their fighting and debating lasted hours no matter if they were in a meeting or at a dinner party, and the tension that existed in their childhood was nothing compared to the tension of Hermione and Malfoy as adults.

"Sexual tension," Pansy purred as she leaned closer to Harry, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the dance floor. "That's what all of this is about. They just need to shag like wild centaurs and get it out of their system."

"Parkinson, I'd hate to vomit whiskey all over your beautiful dress. So if you could please refrain from conjuring up such distressing mental images…" Harry bit out as he swept her up into a waltz.

"I don't know what they are waiting for. I've never seen two people so ready to risk their lives yet incapable of expressing their desires. It's maddening."

"Can't argue there."

It was Pansy's fault that he had to see Malfoy outside of work at all, but now that Hermione was back, he would drag her along with him. If he had to suffer Malfoy then Pansy would have to suffer Hermione. If only he'd realized the damage they were doing to themselves by pulling the two even closer together.

"Though have you noticed," Pansy began as she slid her body closer to his and winked at Ginny as she stalked by glaring daggers at them. "That their chemistry has changed recently? It's only been the last month or so, but it's almost as if they have become friends," she looked at him with confused disbelief.

Harry considered this, she was right. Though their arguing continued, there was a lot of smirking, snarky laughter and playful responses that bordered more on teasing and less on cruelty.

"They are starting to fall for each other," Pansy confirmed with a whisper.

"Maybe it's just respect," Harry amended.

"Wishful thinking, I know Draco, he's mad for her."

He dipped her low as the waltz ended and another song started up.

"And you're calling me delusional?"

She hiked her leg up his side, her arms sliding across his neck.

"Look, he just isn't great at showing his feelings."

He placed her back on her feet, though they stood still touching, arms wrapped around one another.

"Pansy, if they get together the world will implode. All of it will end in horror," Harry insisted, looking into her eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to be the optimist of our friendship, Potter?" she cocked her head to the side in amused wonder.

"I'm serious, it's better off if they just stop seeing each other all together."

He pulled back from her and then began to move to the music once more. This time slower.

"Maybe, but Draco won't let that happen. Once he makes up his mind on what he wants, he doesn't stop until he gets it."

"And Hermione will. She's stubborn and strong, she doesn't need a charity case like Malfoy to contend with, she needs someone-"

"-More like you?" she scoffed with scorn.

"Less like him," he amended.

"Right. You just know what's best for everyone, don't you?" Pansy dropped her arms from him and stalked off, moving to another corner to resume her searching.

Harry followed, feeling slightly bemused and…aroused?

"It's almost ten, I think we are in the clear-"

But no sooner had the words left Harry's mouth did Hermione Granger make her appearance at the top of the staircase.

She looked absolutely lovely, yet sad and anxious. She was ringing her hands, her eyes darting everywhere as she made her way forward.

Harry made a move to wave her over but Pansy grabbed his arm.

"No wait, don't interfere," she hissed.

"Pansy she's alone."

"I have a feeling Draco isn't too far behind her."

And as if on cue, a disheveled Draco Malfoy appeared at the entrance of the ball, his tux shirt was unbuttoned and wrinkled, his bowtie dangling untied from his neck, even his hair was mussed but it was his eyes that were the dead give away.

"Oh no," Pansy whispered, though her face shown with pure delight. "He's drunk as Dionysus."

"Wonderful," Harry breathed, as he watched Malfoy swagger down the stairs, his eyes glued to Hermione's bare back.

Upon reaching the bottom of the steps, he stumbled, grabbing onto a frightened waiter and taking three glasses of whiskey from the tray which he threw back in succession.

"This is bad," Harry warned as he started forward, intent on stopping Malfoy before he did something incredibly stupid.

"So bad," Pansy cooed, absolutely bursting with savage glee. The two hurried across the dance floor, nodding and smiling politely to the people who attempted to greet them.

"You get Hermione, I'll deal with Malfoy," Harry rushed out as he dodged Lavender Brown's attempt at a suffocating embrace.

"Are you sure that's the best-?"

But Harry already slipped between two warlocks and was out of sight.

Pansy sighed and turned around to search for the Gryffindor Princess.

Great.


Pansy didn't per se hate Granger, she just couldn't stand how the rest of the world fawned over her like she was a big deal. Sure she was smart, and unfortunately much prettier than she used to be, but my God she was a whiny pest. And nosy.

What did Draco see in her?

"Granger," she finally caught sight of her chatting it up with a few employees she recognized from the department of Transportation. "May I steal you away from your admirers for a few?" Pansy said with a sickly smile plastered across her face.

Hermione turned suddenly, surprised by Pansy's intent to actually seek her out. Usually it was the other way around, well it used to be. Hermione stopped trying to be nice ages ago since Pansy's usual response to her was sarcasm.

"Pansy. How are you?" she murmured, a wary look in her big brown eyes.

"Wonderful, actually. Much better than you I'm sure," Pansy smirked, looking her up and down. How did she look so fabulous and so natural at the same time? It was astoundingly infuriating.

Hermione raised her delicately arched eyebrow and crossed her arms in a defensive position.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I heard all about the ruckus you caused today at Flourish and Blotts. Should be the front page of the Prophet by Monday, but you're used to that, aren't you?" Pansy couldn't help the resentment she let seep into her tone.

Granger's reaction was priceless and it gave Pansy immense satisfaction to see her shock.

Granger looked around before pulling her off to the side and out of earshot of the other guests.

"Not that it's any of your business, but how did you-?"

"-Oh please, Granger, anyone who was in a five mile radius of Diagon Alley heard about it. Shouldn't you know better than to make such a messy scene? I mean you are famous," she tittered lightly.

"You're enjoying this entirely too much," Hermione accused with mistrust and panic in her eyes.

"Hermione Granger, Good Girl and Savior of Beasts, caught in a nasty love triangle, not so innocent after all, are we?"

Pansy knew she was baiting her, but it was entirely too much fun.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

Yes, they were finally getting somewhere.

"To gloat," Pansy prompted, as she plucked a champagne glass out of a wandering Neville Longbottom's hand and slung it back.

Hermione scoffed turning away, but Pansy's next words stopped her.

"Draco's here."

Granger froze, her spine going rigid.

She turned back around with a tight smile.

"Guess that's my cue to leave then."

She picked up her beautiful white dress and made a move to rush past her predator.

"When did you become such a coward?" Pansy taunted, studying her nails with boredom.

"Why do you care?" Granger shot back, stopping in her tracks and whipping around with barely contained fury.

"I don't. But I do care about Draco. I care about you messing him up."

Hermione's look of outrage with priceless.

"Me!? Are you serious? Don't stand there and lecture me on messing people up. Isn't that a skill on your resume or something?" she hissed with disgust.

"Oh yes, I'm always the bad one," Pansy shot back flippantly.

"Yeah, you usually are!" Hermione laughed with disbelief, her curls shaking with confusion.

"I care about Draco, Granger. I don't need you undoing all the progress he has made on himself."

Give it to her straight, Pansy thought. She likes it straight.

"You're crazy! All I've done is try to work with the insufferable git and keep some modicum of peace. Not that you know anything about that since all you live for is to cause trouble and ruin other people's lives because you are so miserable with your own!" she shot back with fury.

Pansy was impressed, but only for a moment. Then she cackled with glee.

"Oh please! You are just as antagonistic as he is when it comes to your weird little relationship."

Hermione shook her head in denial and exasperation.

"Pansy we don't have a relationship. We work together-"

"-Every bloody minute of the day-everyone says it."

"And we socialize when you and Harry force us to."

Her arms were crossed again. So high strung, Pansy mused, she really did need a good shag.

"Projecting, projecting. Merlin, how do they say you are the smartest witch of our age?" Pansy asked with a perplexed frown.

Hermione's face flew into a rage. Pansy pushed her to her breaking point. Perfect!

"Okay, we're done here. I'm leaving."

And for the grand finale, Pansy was itching with anticipation.

"I don't think you are."

Granger turned, her hand reaching for her wand.

"Are you threatening me?"

"Yes," Pansy smiled, glad she had caught on so quickly.

She grabbed Granger swiftly by the arms, dragging her towards the dance floor.

"What are you doing!?" Hermione gasped, digging her heels into the floor in protest.

Good. She had caught her off guard.

"We are going to dance until you tell me exactly what happened today and exactly what is going on with you and Draco. I mean it Granger. No more lies, no more hiding, you tell me or I will make sure Draco knows exactly how you feel."

Pansy smiled in satisfaction at the panic her prey was trying so hard to conceal.

"And how's that?" Granger replied with an impressive amount of disdain.

Yes, Draco was certainly rubbing off on her.

Pansy smirked.

"Remember when I floo-ed over to your flat earlier this afternoon?"

Granger blanked.

"No."

"Oh right, you were in the shower."

Pansy licked her lips with insinuation.

"What did you do?" Hermione whispered viciously.

Pansy paused for a moment, just to taste her fear.

"I stole your pensive memories."

"What?"

Yes, Hermione Granger was now in full-blown terror. Right where Pansy wanted her.

"How much do you think Rita Skeeter would pay for such treats?" she taunted, running her sharp nail down Hermione's cheek.

Granger slapped her hand away.

"You. You are the most vindictive, awful," Hermione fumed, her restraint snapping.

Pansy smiled.

"Thank you."

Hermione glared furiously as Pansy led her across the dance floor. She spun her once before taking her in her arms and grinning like the Cheshire cat at Hermione's mutinous expression.

"Now spill."


Harry made his way across the crowded room.

Malfoy was an easy target being that he stood out so prevalently, his shocking blonde hair and piercing gaze was not to be missed, and the tension and anger that radiated off him was consuming the room.

Harry sided up next to him. Malfoy leaned against a pillar, a whiskey in hand. His eyes constantly scanning. He didn't even bother to look at Harry as he joined him.

"Evening," Harry began cautiously, unsure of the depths of Malfoy's psyche this evening.

"Is it?" he slurred and swayed slightly.

"Wasn't sure you were going to make it," Harry quipped.

"Me neither," he muttered, more to himself.

"Why are you here Malfoy?" Harry asked.

Malfoy looked perplexed for a moment. He gave Harry a suspicious look before returning his gaze to the crowd in front of them.

"I have to speak to Hermione," he nodded to himself, closing his eyes as lines of anguish spread across his forehead.

"Maybe not such a good idea in this state," Harry assured him.

His temper lit like a hot fuse.

"Piss off, Potter. I'm not in the mood for a lecture," he snapped, running his hand through his hair.

"Listen Malfoy, I'm trying to help you," Harry started.

"We are past that stage of our lives," he bit out with spite.

It gave Harry very little confidence that he might be able to squeeze the truth from the Prince of Snakes.

"What happened today?" he tried cautiously, hoping for a miracle.

Once again, Malfoy's mood whiplashed and he shrugged with nonchalance.

"I snapped."

"Why?" Harry insisted, watching his gaze slowly darken with fury as he brought the scene to life in his mind.

"Bill fucking Weasel," he spat with venom.

Harry was not expecting such candid honestly. It must have been the booze talking.

Or the heartache. Pansy's voice whispered in his head.

"What did Bill do?" Harry pushed on in confusion.

"He exists," was Malfoy's blunt reply.

Harry took in the black glare marring his face and the clenching of his fists.

Maybe Pansy had gotten her story correct after all. Harry usually tried to avoid gossip, but when it concerned his best friend…

"I see. There was a fight?" Harry hedged.

"No. I punched him in the face."

Malfoy's jaw ticked dangerously as he stared blankly off into space, the conversation itself was physically paining him.

"And?" Harry pressed.

"And Granger punched me in the face," a small smirk ghosted his lips.

"All that hard work gone up in flames. Just when you two were finally getting along."

"We never get along," Malfoy slapped his hand against the pillar in frustration. "Why is he in town anyway? Shouldn't he be off getting cursed by Egyptian mummies?" he seethed with fury.

"He's here for Ron's engagement party."

"Hell, someone is actually marrying that oaf?"

Malfoy took a deep sip of his whiskey.

"Malfoy, what is all of this about? Pansy is under the impression..." Harry began. Screw it, he might as well go for the root.

"Pansy doesn't know shit," he muttered nastily.

"Well then why don't you tell me?" Harry implored.

Malfoy finally shifted his gaze to Harry's, his eyes alight and furious.

"Does this look like a fucking therapy session? Get out of my face Potter."

"Afraid I can't do that. Not when your drama involves my best friend."

"Your best friend. How sweet," he mocked savagely, throwing back the rest of his drink and motioning to a waiter for another.

"If you hurt her-"

Draco turned fully to face him in that moment, his eyes glowing with all the malice in his wicked soul.

"Hurt her? You fucking idiot. I love her."

And with that, he pushed himself off the pillar and stalked away without another word.

Harry stood there, completely floored.

Love?

Malfoy loved Hermione?

Pansy was going to be absolutely unbearable when this got back to her.

Harry reached for his flask, he might as well join Malfoy in his misery. Yes, if Draco Malfoy loved Hermione Granger the apocalypse must be upon them.


Granger was such a little bitch and a horrible dancer. Pansy was sure she purposely trod all over her designer heels. She'd be lucky if she could walk in the morning. She'd blame Potter for this abuse.

"Granger, enough with the mauling, just dish it out," she spat with growing annoyance.

Hermione glared at her with intense dislike.

"Why? So you can mock me some more? Blackmail me?"

"I just want the full story. He's my best friend and I want to make sure he's alright," Pansy insisted, why did everyone think she was so evil? This was just a means to an end. She wasn't actually planning on destroying Granger's life, unless she deserved it.

"Then why are you harassing me? Why not ask him yourself? You're both impulsive psychopaths, surely you operate on the same brain waves?"

" Of course we do, but I want the truth and I know you are incapable of being dishonest, aren't you?" was Pansy's snarky reply.

"If I tell you, will you leave me alone?" Hermione swung her around violently.

"No promises," Pansy spat, twisting her wrist and pulling Granger's back flush up against her, holding her prisoner. She knew how uncomfortable Little Miss Priss would find this position, she was not disappointed.

"Fine! Draco and I-"

"-How precious, you say his name now."

She spun her back around and continued their dance.

"Malfoy and I were working this morning when I got an owl from Flourish and Blotts letting me know a book I pre-ordered-"

Pansy snorted with laughter as Hermione glared daggers at her.

"-Was ready. Malfoy offered to come with me. He said we could grab lunch."

"How sweet," Pansy simpered unsympathetically.

"Horribly," Hermione snapped back, once again digging her heel into Pansy's toe.

"Just get on with it!"

"Then stop being a snarky bitch and listen!" Granger snapped with a commanding tone, finally showing her some fire.

Pansy loved riling her up.

"Don't turn me on, Granger," she purred with intent, pulling Granger even closer so their curves hugged one another.

Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed with annoyance, apparently immune to her charms.

"We got there, had lunch, it was all fine. But…" her eyes seemed to pull her back to the past as she relived the memory. "Something was off, or different about Malfoy. He was nervous and on edge, not his cool usual self. I told him he didn't have to come into the bookstore with me, I'd only be a minute...he said that was fine and that when we were done he wanted to run an idea past me."

Pansy smirked on the inside, she was sure that meant Draco wanted to test out the waters, see if she might consider letting him take her out, proper like.

"I was only in there for five minutes browsing when Bill showed up. I didn't know he was in town yet, we um…" Hermione stalled, a blush rising onto her cheeks.

"You what?" Pansy whispered wickedly.

"We…had a... thing. Last summer when I got back from Australia. I was staying at The Burrow before I moved to London and it was only a couple of times. It was sort of a secret, because, well you know Ron..." Hermione bit her lip, waiting for Pansy's reaction.

"You didn't!" Pansy shrieked with glee. "You banged your ex-boyfriend's way hotter, badass older brother?"

"Shhhh!" Hermione hissed as she snatched two glasses of champagne from a tray floating past them. "Please! Ron was already engaged, we just didn't think it would be right-after the break up, to you know, throw it in his face," she whispered, a blush hot on her cheeks.

"Naughty Granger is so much more fun! Why don't you come out to play more often?" Pansy giggled as she grabbed the glass and continued dancing. The beat changed to something a bit more modern now that the older wizards and witches had called it a night.

Granger was dancing a bit, loosening up as she downed her champagne in one gulp.

"Anyway, Bill found me in the back of the shop, in the stacks. He just wanted to catch up and I mean, he sort of came onto me, we were….standing very close-don't you smirk at me, it's narrow back there- He asked me if I wanted to get dinner tonight. And…a part of me wanted to say yes, really. Why not? He's smart, ambitious, a good person-"

"-An incredible fuck?"

"But, part of me couldn't because, because," she stopped, unable to continue her thought as she evaded Pansy's eyes.

"Because you want Draco."

Hermione's head snapped up and Pansy saw all the raw emotions reflecting back at her. Granger's eyes suddenly filled with fear and Pansy felt a small pang. Merlin, if this was true love who the fuck needed it?

"I don't understand it, Pansy," she rushed out in a horrified whisper. "We are childhood enemies. We were on opposites sides for so long. He stood for everything I fought against, he makes me absolutely furious, he undermines me and makes me question my own sanity, but when I look in his eyes…" she stopped, unable to go on as her shoulder's slumped in defeat.

In that moment Pansy wondered if she was suddenly developing a conscience, fucking hell, she felt bad for the mess that was Hermione Granger.

"I was never popular like you, boys didn't want me all the time, especially not boys, men, like Malfoy. I've never dealt with anything like him before on this level. He scares me, he's intense and unpredictable, but there is this thing, between us. It's so uncomfortable."

Granger looked as if she wanted to jump out of her own skin.

"Sexual tension," Pansy supplied helpfully.

"But that's not all. It's this need, an inexplicable freedom… he makes me feel like I can do anything. He believes in me and I don't know why. Is it because he feels bad? Guilty? For everything he's done? Or do you think he actually cares?"

Hermione's eyes were open, trusting and vulnerable...Pansy realized she could absolutely crush her in this moment, destroy anything that might exist between them with one simple word.

"Give him a chance," she whispered, letting go of Hermione and stepping back. "He's better now, now that Lucius is gone. And if you're what's good for Draco, I won't stand in your way."

Pansy reached up into her garter and pulled out Hermione's stolen memories, handing them back to her. She took them carefully, a warm gratitude entering her gaze, Pansy liked this Granger much better.

"I should thank you..."

Pansy genuinely smiled.

"Don't."


"Malfoy!" Harry Potter did not imagine this was how his evening was going to end up. He'd spent the last hour finishing and refilling his flask six times and now he was pissing off the balcony of this swanky mansion and into a coy pond, Malfoy right beside him. "I beat you."

"It's because your dick's small, easier to aim. Not as simple when you've got a thick, juicy cock like m-" Malfoy slurred zipping up his pants.

"-Alright I get it. Please. Don't scar me."

Malfoy barked with laughter and Harry sighed. Did they both have to be absolutely smashed to get along? He glanced sideways at Malfoy, who's features were once again hard and unpredictable. Harry had no idea how Hermione was able to work with him.

"Do you think she's still here?" Malfoy demanded, leaning against the balcony and lighting a smoke.

"If Pansy's got her in her claws, I'm sure," Harry assured him with a slight smirk.

"Fucking Pansy," he sighed.

"She's a gem," Harry heard the softness in his own voice. Apparently, so did Draco. His head snapped up his eyes suddenly alert.

"Are you fucking her?" he asked suspiciously.

"What? No! We're friends," Harry felt heat rise up his neck as he pictured such a scenario.

"Granger and I are not friends," Malfoy drawled, lifting an eyebrow.

"You aren't?"

"Nope."

"Well you said earlier you love her, so-"

"Do you love all of your friends Potter?" Malfoy sneered with disgust.

"I do. But, I don't act like this when we are fighting. I'm not so desperate or enraged. This is different," Harry added thoughtfully, more to himself than to Draco.

"Of course it's different. She's perfect. I used her, I hurt her, I'm basically responsible for her torture," he whispered, a dark look entering his eyes.

"Malfoy, you're not."

"I sat by, a coward, watching my aunt destroy the strongest woman I had ever met in my life on my living room floor. I let her," he hissed. Harry could feel his pain seeping through the air.

"You can't hold onto that. Hermione doesn't feel that way. She doesn't blame you."

"Of course she doesn't, because she's so fucking good. I can't believe she's given me a second chance, at anything..." he ran his hands over his face in disbelief.

"So why are you screwing it up?"

"It's what I do. All I've ever done Potter, all I've ever been….screwed up."

"And now you have the opportunity to change that. Look how far you have come in two years. Hermione has been a good influence on you."

"Hermione. Hermione," He slurred smoothly. "She has power. She doesn't need anyone."

"Malfoy. I'm the first one to sing Hermione's praises. You know she's a sister to me, but she's not perfect either. You're being too hard on yourself here. She argues with you because you're intelligent. She debates with you because you stimulate her mind. She fights with you because she gives a shit. She yells at you when you do stupid things because she cares about you. And she punches you in the face when you need a reality check. Don't push her away because she doesn't need you. If she wants you. That's even better."

"Wants me? How? When a Curse Breaker is knocking down her door with adventure and battle scars and heroism and sex," the jealousy and longing was ripe in his tone.

"What happened with Bill, Malfoy? He's a good guy, he wouldn't do anything stupid."

"Of course he wouldn't! That's what so fucking irritating about the whole thing. He didn't do anything! Because he's a good guy and I'm the bad guy. I'm the jealous arse who went into a rage when I saw them together. I couldn't help it. I've never felt that way before, like I was in danger of losing so much."

"Fuck."

Malfoy was screwed.

"He asked her to dinner. I didn't even give her the chance to respond. All he did was touch her hand and I… I can't control my darkness, unless she is in my sight. I look in her eyes, and I see..." he trailed off, his eyes staring up at the stars, lost in his ability to feel.

"When did you become such a poet?"

Harry motioned for him to pass his cigarette. He couldn't handle all of this self-loathing. It hit too close to home.

"I'm an aristocrat. Poetry is more important than morals in the world I come from," he mocked, sounding more like his normal self.

"Just tell her how you feel," Harry sighed, watching the smoke curl from his mouth and into the air.

"That's why I'm here," he stated, tucking away his matches and turning back towards the doors of the ball where music sifted softly through the night breeze.

"Well you can't do it in this state," Harry amended, handing his flask over.

"Is that a challenge, Potter?"

He took a swig and passed it back.

"Why I believe it is, Malfoy."


Harry sauntered back into the ballroom feeling rather satisfied that he'd solved his friend's problems.

He was drunk enough to appreciate the fact that he would regret this in the morning, but Malfoy's honesty had been genuine and for tonight, Harry was hoping that he and Hermione would find a truce. Even if that meant getting out all of their…frustrations…if it fixed the mess they were in, who was he to complain?

"Pansy, darling!" he called out, opening his arms as he danced toward her, sweeping her up in his embrace. "It's almost midnight, take me onto the dance floor and have your way with me."

"Why Mr. Potter, I do believe you are smashed," she giggled, her eyes alight with passionate fire.

"Smashed," he pointed to himself, dipping into a low bow. "And smashing," he grinned, raising his eyes to her and extending his hand with flirtation. "Dance with me, Ms. Parkinson."

Pansy lowered herself into a perfectly executed curtsy before taking his hand and leading him forward.

"I do believe Ginny's face now matches the exact shade of her hair," Pansy whispered vindictively as she pressed herself tightly against Harry's chest.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Looks like Theo isn't having the greatest night either. I saw Dean leaving with Anthony Goldstein about an hour ago and by the looks of it they were working on some serious inter-house unity."

"All is right with the world."

Pansy looked like the cat who ate the canary.

"Is it?" Harry questioned, his mind coming back to Hermione.

Pansy jerked her head to the grand staircase just as the clock began to chime 12. Harry followed her gaze.

Hermione Granger was standing on the top step, her shoes kicked off, her hair wild and cheeks flushed, he could see, even from this distance, how conflicted she was. She was holding his, Harry's flask, her expression frantic. He watched her lips move as she furiously yelled in anger. Harry looked to her left to see her rage was aimed at none other than Draco Malfoy, who was taking the flask from her. Harry watched as his fingers caressed hers and he looked at her with intense reverence, even while she was yelling in his face.

"That bastard stole my flask!" Harry whispered, outraged.

Pansy let out a shriek of glee.

"We'll aren't they just two peas in a pod," she murmured, "It appears one of my garters is missing as well. She better put it to good use."

"Are they about to rip each other's heads off?" Harry wondered.

The argument was beginning to escalate as Hermione was gesturing with her hands and Malfoy watched her with something close to amusement.

"More like their clothes," Pansy drawled.

Draco suddenly pulled her to his chest, his hands grasping possessively at her waist.

Hermione hauled back and slapped him.

There was a gasp from the crowd. Only a moment's pause.

And then the two were kissing each other senseless.

"Can't they just get a room? You realize we are going to be hearing about this for the next decade, right? Being as we are the two closest to them," Pansy scoffed with defeat.

"So shameful of them to pull us into their drama," Harry felt a smile tugging at his lips.

"I'll never forgive them," she protested dramatically.

"Pansy?"

"Potter?"

"You were right," Harry breathed with annoyance, feeling Pansy's utter 'I Told You So' vibe engulf him.

They stood close together, watching as Malfoy pulled back to cup Hermione's face and murmur something that looked suspiciously like an apology. Hermione smiled and they were kissing again, wrapping their fingers around the other's hands and leaving together.

They didn't even spare a second glance at their best friends who had spent their entire evening bringing the fools together. Best friends who both lost love themselves recently, but that was no reason to forsake the concept all together, especially when it involved people they loved, loving each other. Quite complicated as it was.

"Ungrateful wankers," Harry pouted as Pansy burst out laughing.

"Potter?" she said, the smirk sliding off of her face to be replaced with all seriousness.

"Yes?" he asked, rather surprised by her change in tone.

"T'was a grand night for scheming."

"T'was."

He was grinning like a fool.

"You were brilliant," she complimented, sliding her arm through his. "And I'll never say it again unless you take me home and ravish me right now."

"What kind of friend would I be to refuse such a request?" he asked, aghast.

"A bloody awful one," Pansy stopped short turning into him. "Just promise me one thing."

Harry wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Anything at all."

"Promise me, we will never be as difficult as them."

They slowly smirked at one another, relishing in the insane happiness of their best friends.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Harry smiled, escorting his date to the floo.

Maybe he should matchmake his friends with his arch enemies more often, it was certainly turning out to be just as Pansy had said.

A truly lovely evening for all.