Summary: Hermione keeps staring and Pansy ignores her. Thanks to confiteor3 for being a lovely beta.
Hermione Granger had been staring at her for the past five minutes and if she did not cease and desist that second, Pansy was going to hex her bushy little head right into the lake. Perhaps staring was the wrong word; glancing covertly and often might be more accurate, but no less unnerving.
Pansy looked down at the annoying meld of scratchy symbols that made up her Divination notes and growled deeply in the back of her throat. Her guttural snarling startled one of the library's resident cats, a marmalade tom, who jumped then haughtily strode off as if to say 'Oh please, you didn't scare me.'
Pansy had been moping in the library, sprawled on an overstuffed study chair, for over two hours now. The only reason she had agreed to take such an utterly bogus class as Divination in the first place was to be with Blaise. But he, the utter git, had fallen for Daphne Greengrass not two weeks into the term, dropping his best friend without even a backward glance. He was sure to be back, as soon as snogging that particular girl got old. Pansy just had to wait for his feather-brained head to come around. In the meantime however, she was practically failing Divination. Stupid worthless boys. A belabored smile flitted across her face at the thought.
A movement in the corner of her eye told her that Hermione was doing the glancing thing again and her grin abruptly faded. That girl was getting on her last nerve. She slammed her book shut and crammed it into her bag with a resounding thump and went off in search of less disconcerting company. She threw Hermione a scrunched sneer on the way out, hoping for a cowed, or at least subdued response. Hermione, however, had assumed a hunched, uninterested posture, head ducked down into her mountain of books. Thus engaged, she completely missed the elaborate facial expression intended for her viewing pleasure. Indelibly frustrated, Pansy shook her short black hair in extreme irritation and exited the library.
During Herbology, a class unfortunately shared with the Gryffindors, Pansy made a pact with herself. She vowed to utterly ignore the bushy-haired, previously buck-toothed, inconsiderate, doe-eyed, slender, sensitive, intelligent, stupid, stupid Gryffindor girl who obviously had a case of lazy eye. She had looked the other way when Hermione glanced at her and had easily ignored the shy smile the brunette gave when their eyes accidentally met. It was a facile matter as the Faelous plants they were pruning were quite volatile and demanded her undivided attention.
Pansy also ignored Hermione when perfect Potter's plant exploded, intoxicating the air with laughing gas. The fumes had the entire greenhouse paralyzed in helpless stitches for nearly twenty minutes. Pansy decided that it was extremely peculiar to watch a Venomed Venus Fly Trap laugh itself silly. Professor Sprout was kept busy holding the Mandrakes potted while they attempted to roll around in hysteric tears, soaking themselves and tearing up their soil. Pansy easily looked away when Hermione bumped into her, swaying drunkenly with tears of laughter streaming down her face. It had been a simple matter of attending to the Faelous next to her. She had recoiled disgustedly two seconds later when she realized she had been aiding Longbottom. Pansy also had no difficulty squashing the squiggling sensation in her stomach; she would just have to remember to eat breakfast more regularly.
That night, Pansy sat in the common room, lounging on her favorite chair, back leaning into squishy pillows, arms akimbo, her legs crossed demurely at her ankles. Without Blaise as a distraction, her mind was free to meander in the depths of her mind, ferreting out old knowledge and piecing it together into new patterns. She lay there for several hours, adjusting her pillows and soaking warmth from the fire. She recalled that the staring problem had been going on for one week, three days, and two hours to be precise. Pansy remembered that ithad begun last Monday in Charms when Hermione had glanced over at Pansy and blushed. Just a light pink tinge, rouging her cheeks into faint cherries, nothing especially noteworthy. But Pansy had noticed her bizarre behavior then promptly ignored it. Pansy, being a practical girl, had merely raised a metaphoric eyebrow to herself and carried on with her Transduction charm as if nothing had happened. Lying there on the fluffy chair, picking invisible lint off of the cushions, Pansy pondered these seemingly inexplicable antics. Suddenly, it all clicked. She sat bolt upright and raced off to her room.
The next afternoon, Pansy sat once again in the library, taking a rare study break to actually study. Blaise sulked by her side, griping about stuffy libraries, unwholesome Muggle literature, and fickle girls. In a radical change of pace, plucky Daphne had dumped him last night, over some Muggle Ravenclaw with better Transfiguration notes. He was devastated. Pansy was mildly surprised. However, she currently had larger things on her mind.
"Tell me why we're here again?" Blaise whined, fussily tapping a sullen tattoo on the wooden table resting between them. Pansy sighed and scooted her chair forward, startling the marmalade tom who had been residing near the legs.
"To study," Blaise glared. "And do…things," Blaise looked unimpressed. "Fine, we're waiting for someone, someone important." Blaise gave her a dark look.
"I got up at 9 o'clock on a Saturday morning to go to the library to wait for someone important? That's it; I'm going back to bed."
"Wait, please. I just needed some moral support," Pansy said begrudgingly.
"Well I'll support away, just tell me what this is all about. I deserve to know."
At that moment, a familiar bushy head entered through the intricately engraved doors.
"Here goes nothing," Pansy whispered under her breath to herself and, unintentionally, Blaise.
"What…" he began but Pansy was already gone.
Without allowing herself time to think, Pansy marched determinedly up to the Gryffindor, her eyes set in resolve, strides even.
"Hi," said Hermione timidly. She had multiple books stuffed in her knapsack and three more in her clasped hands. The raven haired girl ignored her and leaned in, kissing her soundly. Hermione dropped them.
"I got it," said Pansy with a smile.
"Oh," said Hermione quietly, "Good."