The Armoury was quiet at this time of night. Millicent propped herself in the window-seat and looked out over the grounds.
Polyjuice was the most likely explanation and, in hindsight, there had been signs. Oh, nothing that she could have figured out. But little things. Like the fact that Ginny had been fine with pretending that Fred was George out by the Shrieking Shack. Or that the essence of Amortentia had felt like genuine emotion rather than blind infatuation. Or the fact that George had the exact same facial expressions as Amortentia Fred – but not as normal Fred. Okay – maybe if she'd paid more attention she would have been able to figure it out.
She leant back against the stone wall, eyes narrowing as she ran the past few days through her head. Merlin, that conversation with his father… Him touching her tail…
He'd fucking played her. And he'd done it really, really well.
Burying her face in her hands, she laughed until she couldn't breathe.
Merlin, he was going to pay. Him and that twin of his. As soon as she sorted out how the whole thing had gone down. When had it even started?
The day at Hogsmeade was the most likely answer. That was when Fred – no, George – had started turning the tables. He'd pushed to go to Madam Puddifoot's and had ordered the Essence of Amortentia-laced coffee. Surely he wouldn't have drunk it? But she'd know if he'd tipped it out. It would have shown up in at least one of Creevey's photos.
Unless… The clever bastards had got to Creevey.
But why the library thing? Why had Fred Polyjuiced as George to break up with her? Had he gotten over the prank – or had he not known about it?
That didn't seem likely. From what Millicent knew, the twins played all their pranks together. But… They didn't usually get Ginny involved. And, if Millicent was to go off facial expressions and body language, she thought that it had mostly been George. Except in the library.
Him kissing her in the hall – Him coming to talk to her in her room – that had been George. And he evidently hadn't known that Fred had Polyjuiced and dumped her. So this prank, it wasn't something that both of them were in on. Just George and Ginny?
Much as it pained Millicent to admit it, she was going to have to talk to Creevey. There was no other way to find out what the twins were up to, and if she didn't know their game plan it meant that they won and she lost. She was not going to lose against the God-damn Weasley twins.
#
It took Hermione a long time to get Pansy back to the Slytherin dorms – longer than it should have because Pansy kept stumbling at inopportune times, sending them both careening into darkened corridors. Then, when they got to the first bed in the dorm, Pansy's legs tangled with Hermione's and they both crashed onto the mattress.
Pansy's body was warm – and softer than Hermione would have expected, considering the sharp curve of her hips and points of her elbows – of her jaw. Pansy was quite pointy, all things considered. But, lying on top of her, there wasn't any sharpness. The length of Pansy's thigh rested against Hermione, their legs still half tangled together.
Heat tingled along Hermione's skin; skimming through all the points that connected to Pansy. Atoms and molecules sliding into each other, threating to set the world ablaze.
Hermione drew a breath; cinnamon and something sharper – ash? And Firewhiskey. She drew another breath, dragging the scent of Pansy deep.
Then she closed her eyes and pushed herself up.
Hands caught at the front of her robes, tight and urgent, dragging her back down.
Hermione's eyes shot open, clashing with Pansy's steady gaze.
"I'm spinning, Granger."
"It's the Firewhiskey," said Hermione. And then, because lecturing was part of her nature, added, "And the Clicquot. Maybe the Unicorn Blood. Probably the cream liqueur."
"I'm spinning." Pansy insisted, fingers twisting into Hermione's robes. She clenched her jaw, eyes narrowing until they were as sharp as her elbows – or her chin. "Pin me until it stops."
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, gasping out a tiny breath as she pulled away.
Pansy jerked her back and Hermione unclenched one of Pansy's stiff fists from her robes. Kissed the strained white knuckles and let it drop.
"I'll pin you tomorrow." Her voice was hoarse, barely audible. "If you ask me."
Then she pushed off and headed for the door, not trusting herself to look back.
Given how late it was, the trip back to the Gryffindor Common Room should have been uneventful, but as Hermione turned into the Eastern Hall on the third floor, voices echoed through the corridor.
Whoever it was, it sounded like they were having a fight. Hermione glanced around, not wanting to get caught in the middle of the altercation. It was hard to tell where the voices were coming from. Too many classrooms opened off the hall.
Hermione pulled her robes more snuggly around herself and hurried on.
Turning the next corner, she came across Millicent Bulstrode and Colin Creevey. They were arguing so loudly that they didn't even notice Hermione. She backed up gratefully.
She could take the Eastern Hall one floor up if she went back to the moving staircases. There was more chance of running into Peeves, but that couldn't really be avoided. Better Peeves than Filch and Mrs. Norris.
"But I gave you what you wanted!" Creevey bleated.
Hermione froze. Perhaps this was about the transfigured ribbon, and that odd comment that Millicent had made about Polyjuice might be explained.
Millicent made a sharp snorting sound, and Hermione gave up any delusions she might have had that she could walk away from this mystery.
"I said that I wanted you to deceive me?" Millicent demanded. "That I wanted you to trick me?"
Definitely. Definitely about the transfigured ribbon. Had Creevey really Polyjuiced himself as someone else to give Millicent a gift to prove his affection? It was Creevey, so of course it was something he would do – but where had he got Polyjuice? And would anyone in the school be safe from his creepy advances now?
"You asked for proof of devotion," protested Creevey. "I gave you that. There was hugging, there was kissing…"
Hermione bit back a mewl of disgust. Creevey had hugged and kissed Millicent while Polyjuiced? But Polyjuiced as who? If it had been George, Millicent would have thought that he felt enough for her to transfigure a lasting ribbon. She didn't know that he was playing a prank, after all. So was she seeing someone aside from George?
"Stop confusing the subject! The fact that you gave me what I asked for doesn't change the fact that you deceived me…"
"I'm sorry, Millie!" Creevey's voice was a squeak of terror.
"Don't be," said Millicent. "I approve."
Hermione almost choked on her own tongue. Millicent approved of Creevey Polyjuicing as someone else and tricking her into cheating on George? God! Hermione had spent hours trying to find a way to keep George trapped into his invitation to the Yule ball and all along Millicent was checking to see if she had better options. And she was seeing Creevey as a better option. Creevey! Creevey who allegedly wanted to put the memory of Boggart-Snape dressed in Neville's grandmother's clothing into his spank bank. Ugh.
"You're sneaky," said Millicent, an evident smile in her voice. "I didn't expect that, but I like unexpected things."
"You're not mad?" Creevey's voice was still squeaky, but there was less terror in it now.
Hermione pressed her back to the nearest wall for support, closing her eyes in the hopes that this would all make sense if she focussed. Any possibility of this being a misunderstanding vanished when Millicent said,
"It's kind of perfect actually." Millicent's voice became harder, "But I expect you to meet me at the Slytherin Dungeons before sunrise tomorrow. Don't let anyone catch you and don't tell anyone what's going on. And no more tricks."
Hermione fled, just in case Millicent and Creevey decided to get carried away with their new-found mutual creepiness and make out or something. The night's events had scarred her enough already.
Any hope she had of the night finally being over vanished when she practically fell through the Fat Lady's portrait hole into the Common Room.
George was the only one there, sitting in the chair closest to the fire. He raised his head when Hermione stumbled in.
"Evening Granger – or morning? How late is it?" He lifted his wrist to peer at his watch.
"Bulstrode's cheating on you," Hermione blurted out. She dragged herself to the seat on the other side of the fire and collapsed into it. "I guess I shouldn't have legally bound you to the ball."
George's eyebrows rose. "Mill? With who?"
Hermione opened her mouth but no sound came out. Surely the answer was too cruel a one to give? George might have been playing a prank, but even he didn't deserve to know that Millicent would risk losing him for someone like Creevey. His pride would never withstand a blow like that. No one's would. She waved a dismissive hand. "It doesn't matter. But she is. I have the information first hand."
George slumped back into his seat, brows drawing together. "You saw her with someone else?" He didn't sound surprised – which was kind of odd. His whole prank pivoted on Millicent's supposed lack of appeal – so why wasn't he stunned that someone had found her appealing?
Hermione shuddered. "Please don't remind me." She leant back in her chair and scowled at George. "You probably deserve each other. You with your nasty pranks and her with her fickleness."
There was still the one question though; who had Creevey Polyjuiced as when he'd kissed and hugged Bulstrode? And why had she been surprised at emotional attachment being tied to the transfigured ribbon if the person transfiguring it had been hugging and kissing her? And…
Hermione sighed and ground the palms of her hands across her eyes. There were a million burning questions left and, for once, she didn't want any of them. She wanted to curl up in bed and think of the way Pansy's eyes narrowed when she argued, or how her fingers tapped when something annoyed her. The softness of her stomach against Hermione's thigh. The smoky scent of her skin.
"Granger?" George's voice cut through her thoughts. "Who was Mill with? And what exactly did you see them doing?"
Hermione made a sound of disgust. "Don't bring that up now, George! God! You ruin everything." She tried to shake the memory of Creevey off, but it was stuck now. She was going to have to shower. Hopefully those memories would scrub out.