Something a little daft but I'd thought I'd share, I have a Memoria Luxuareo playlist that I listen to when I'm getting in the writing groove, and thought I'd share some of the songs each chapter.

1. Fire on fire by Sam Smith - mainly for Hermione and Draco's relationship but also for other relationships that are going be appearing later on.

2. Safe Inside by James Arthur - This gave me tons of inspiration for writing Narcissa and was what I was listening to when I decided to give her more of a part in this.

3. Habits by Plested - A Mina and Edward / Hermione and Draco song, whenever I listen to this I always get inspired to write these characters and their relationship.

Let me know if you want to hear more, or you think that this is stupid. As always thanks so much for reading and commenting and being patient with me when I am just terrible at posting.

Pansy's eyes practically rolled back into her head as wailing filtered underneath the dark oaken door and echoed faintly down the corridor, a few sympathetic coo's followed it, settling it into dramatic sobs. Pansy began pacing again, treading the same worn bit of stone over and over, muttering under her breath.

"Careful Pans, you're gonna wear yourself a hole there," Blaise murmured, opening his packet of Bertie Botts with considerable relish. The packet promised all-new flavours that their famous researchers had scoured the globe for, all to tantalise the taste buds and take them on a merry adventure unlike any other and he was all ready to strap himself in.

"You were right, we should have gone with Millicent. Can you hear her?" Another wail permeated the air and Blaise winced.

"If I'm entirely honest it's difficult not to – urgh, ear wax, bleh, bleh, bleh," Blaise quickly swallowed the offending bean, wiping his tongue forlornly, "by the way can I get that in writing?"

"Get what in writing."

"You, admitting I'm right, just that bit, nothing else,"

"Give me one of those," Pansy murmured angrily, grabbing one out of the packet before Blaise could stop.

"Get your own Parkinson."

"Ooo yum, mango,"

"If that's the only good one in here, Parkinson, I'm coming for you." Pansy grinned at him, wondering why his words made her heart race a little in her chest, and the thought of him coming for her wasn't the worst thing imaginable.

Another wail broke the moment and Pansy scowled, "I said complain about his teaching style, not create a whole melodrama with her at the centre,"

Blaise shrugged, "You handed Anrose the reins, you told her to 'make it her own'." Pansy took a certain amount of pleasure when the bean Blaise popped into his mouth wiped the satisfied smirk off his face and replaced it with a scowl.

"Yes well, I didn't mean this…" she gestured to the door wondering why she had ever thought that Anrose could ever be trusted to manage something as unfathomable to her, as subtlety. The only reason they had settled on her was because Blaise was owed a serious favour by her boyfriend and they were all collectively down a few galleons - it was surprisingly difficult to get any student at Hogwarts to actively complain about the great oaf of a teacher, even if he was abysmal at the job. Pansy supposed she could understand, if it wasn't for Draco, she doubted she would have thought of the little plot at all. Yes, Hagrid was an idiot, who was far too lax on personal hygiene for her tastes, but he was a harmless idiot, who's lessons happened to be a breeze, simply because he spent far too much time worrying about the animals to ever care what the students were doing.

"Hmm, ash, interesting."

"Can you at least pretend to be worried about this?"

"What's the point? She's in there, isn't she? I don't know what you're werriting about, Umbridge has been looking for any excuse to flush out the faculty, this is just giving her a foot in the door."

"But we don't want that foot to have our name blazoned above it in big, flashing fucking lights."

"Then I'd recommend you stop screaming about 'the plan' right outside the woman's door."

Pansy snapped her mouth shut and flopped against the wall next to him, letting her head fall back, hoping the coolness of the stone would freeze her racing thoughts. It was a simple plan, one that needed very little input on her part, but for some reason, it was stressing her out - every possibility and impossibility circling her mind at a million miles an hour. Blaise was right, she needed to calm down or she would give the game away. The last thing she needed was the golden trio sniffing out a trap and backtracking as fast as their goody-two-shoes could carry them. She almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation, not quite able to believe that she was utilising her nefarious skills to keep Potty and his friends safe.

"Right, we've got two first years, managed to put the fear of Nott into them. Hufflepuff too," Theo smirked.

"Very brave of you," Pansy finally muttered, distracted.

"I should hold off on that, mate. Anrose is in there giving it some." As if on cue a loud wail echoed down the corridor.

"Godric's tit, what's she doing in there? We want him fired not in Azkaban."

"I know, we need to get her out," Pansy whined.

"Oh well that won't look suspicious at all, excuse us Umbridge, we just need to go over stage directions, you understand of course, clearly some differences in artistic interpretation."

"But this is beyond a joke now."

"I'm pretty sure that whatever that is, Anrose does not see it as a joke," Theo commented, nodding toward the door.

"Yeah, I mean, come on this is…" Blaise paused, horror dawning on his face.

"Blaise? You okay?" Pansy asked, recoiling a little when he turned and spat something into the corner, covering his mouth as if worried something terrible would fly into it if left unprotected. "What's the matter?"

"Nott," Theo stepped back sensing the anger in Blaise's tone, "you didn't, did you?"

Pansy glanced between them confused,

"Didn't what?"

"He knows what he did."

"Now hold on a second, before you start going pointing fingers, what is it that I am supposed to have done?"

"Did you, or did you not send your fucking Gnome shit into Bertie Botts." Theo's eyes widened as he stared at the packet pushed under his nose.

"Ah well that," he cleared his throat, "I might of,"

"You fuckin…"

"Now hear me out, you can't boast every flavour bean when you haven't thoroughly explored all your options. I just gave them another option."

"Right, that's it, I am going to kill you," Blaise stated, shoving his packet of Bertie Botts into Pansy's hands. Theo stepped back again, lifting his hands quickly to defend himself.

"Now let's not be hasty."

"You're joking right, you can't have ruined these too?" Pansy asked, sniffing at the sweets gingerly.

"What do you mean, too? I haven't ruined anything else."

"Oh please, that monstrosity you call confectionary obliterated my taste buds for months."

"Keep track of that did you," Theo bit out sarcastically.

"I…"

All of them paused when the door opened and a sniffling Anrose stepped out, throwing a grateful smile over her shoulder to Umbridge, all the while gently dabbing at her cheeks with the pinkest tissue Pansy had ever seen.

"Do not fear, we shall have this whole matter sorted presently. We take such accusations of mal-practice very seriously, unlike others."

Pansy found herself battling against yet another eye roll at Umbridge's obvious dig at Dumbledore. It was a matter of much discussion among the students as to what had happened to their Headteacher, though. Lots of theories had been bandied about, most of them utterly ridiculous, but some, Pansy had to admit, seemed to have some merit, and she'd embarrassingly strained her ears to listen in on such conversations.

The door shut and Anrose immediately straightened her shoulders, sauntering towards them looking mightily pleased with herself.

"You can go ahead and thank me now, Parkinson," She murmured, flicking her now, blue hair over her shoulder with a satisfied smirk, pink tissue screwed up in her hands.

"Overdid it a bit don't you think?" Anrose fluttered her eyelashes in a way that suggested she thought the statement was ludicrous.

"I did what was necessary, let the role take me where it would."

"And that role was, grieving widow, perhaps?"

"I don't expect you to understand Nott, you wouldn't know raw talent if it hexed your arse."

"I think someone needs to see Madame Pomphrey, get that mediocre burn looked at." Anrose cut her eyes at Blaise but shrugged.

"Look, we're even, Sebastian said he owed you, now he doesn't, you're welcome."

"Tell him he needs to repay his own debts next time," Blaise called after her.

"Whatever, Zabini," She waved him off, disappearing round the corner.

"Well, it would seem she hasn't done irreparable damage."

"No, but they might," Blaise pointed to the two shaking first years who were cautiously approaching Umbridge's office.

"What in Merlin's name did you say to them?" Pansy asked, Theo, her eyes wide.

"Can one really keep track of everything one says,"

"Nott, I swear to Salazar if you don't fix this…"

"Okay, okay. They are Hufflepuff you know, clearly over-reacting."

"You should have just given them the Galleons, like we agreed," Pansy spat after him.

"Like you agreed, you mean. I am not made of money Parkinson. WAIT," Theo called, jogging over to the Hufflepuffs who quite literally jumped out of their skin at the sound of his voice, turning a transparent pale of someone who had run headfirst into a group of Dementors.

"Hufflepuffs," Blaise scoffed, shaking his head.

Pansy would normally find herself inclined to defend any first years, knowing from her own experience that Hogwarts was an intimidating place, rising over the Blake Lake like something from a gothic horror, but the Hufflepuff first years were something else entirely. Though she had never managed to verify whether her suspicions were correct, she suspected that the older Hufflepuffs spent far too much time talking about their own feelings to ever really consider the all-consuming fear rattling through the tiny frames of the Hufflepuff first years, and so created a space of coddling instead of comfort and support. She wasn't suggesting that the barrage of verbal abuse the Slytherin first years got was any better, but at least they grew a thick skin quickly, second-year Slytherins were some of the feistiest students she had ever met.

"Here," Pansy held his Bertie Botts out to him, chuckling when the dark-haired boy pushed them away with a scowl.

"No, I can't, my mouth's been violated enough for one day."

For some reason, the statement had Pansy staring at his lips, licking her own as she remembered the delicious knee-shaking goodness of his kiss. She blushed, shifting from foot to foot, all flustered when Theo came back over, his voice shattering her daydream and making her conscious of the fact that Blaise had probably noticed her staring, after all, he wasn't blind. She glanced at him, blushing deeper at his dark eyes trained on her, an unfathomable expression on his face.

"Pans, you alright?" Theo asked, pressing a cool hand to her forehead.

"Get off me, I'm fine."

"Wow, okay, calm your tits."

"What do you want?"

"So, I sort of said that I'd give them the Bertie Botts as compensation, a bit of a goodwill gesture."

"They can have them, Salazar save them."

Theo sauntered off happily, waving the box above his head as though it were some grand prize.

"They have no idea what they are letting themselves in for."

"You never know, you might have had the only Gnome poo flavoured bean in there."

"Don't say that, it's just cruel," Pansy laughed, falling back against the wall beside him. "So that's step one, what's next?" She breathed a sigh of relief, as stressful as it was, scheming was easier than the complication of feelings, scheming she could handle.

"Well, if Umbridge takes the bait, which I think she will, then Hagrid will be investigated and then the Quaffle is firmly in the Golden trio's hoop.

"Right, what exactly has that got to do with investigating what Umbridge is up to?"

Pansy winced, keeping tabs on what people did and didn't know was becoming a bit of a challenge.

"Well, while she's distracted by their inevitable shenanigans, we can slip past her defences and do some snooping."

"Honestly, you wait long enough and they're bound to do something stupid."

"You have to be pro-active when it comes to these things Zabini."

"Pro-active would be sneaking into her office at night, that shit is straight out the Gryffindor hand-book." It took Blaise a moment to realise what he'd let slip, turning to a grinning Pansy with horror.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No, no, and no."

Yes, yes, yes. Come on, you suggested it."

"And instantly regretting it."

"It's perfect. We don't know how long Potty and Co will take snapping at the bait, this way we guarantee finding something out."

"And remind me why we want to find anything out specifically."

"That woman is up to something and we are going to get to the bottom of it."

"You know, I don't know why I bother opening my mouth sometimes."

"It's because you're awesome and have the best ideas."

Pansy was far too excited to notice the soft look Blaise gave her. He would agree to anything if she would just carry on looking that happy because of him.

"I told you I'm not wearing any of that shit, Pans," Blaise wined, ducking away from Pansy as she attempted to place the black woolen hat on his head, grimacing when she missed again.

"Will you keep still, look this is for your own good, you don't want to be caught do you?"

"Not wearing that, no."

"We need to be stealthy."

"And I fully intend to be, magic permitting, but I'll do it in my own clothes, thank you."

"But, but…"

"Why in Merlin's name is this so important to you?" Draco queried, turning away from his studies to peer at them, quill dangling lazily from his fingers. He'd been throwing himself full force into his studies ever since his meltdown in the common room, refusing to speak to anyone, so the sound of his voice had the pair blinking owlishly for a couple of seconds.

"No particular reason," Pansy sniffed, refusing to look at either of them.

"Pans, may or may not have gone a bit mad with Colovaria."

"I haven't," Blaise gave her a pointed look, "I haven't! Look this is important - I'm going to be at one with the shadows and you are going to be a sitting Flobberworm, a Flobberworm that will get us caught." Her words might have sounded confident, but the items of clothing littered around their feet, all the same midnight black, suggested otherwise.

"Honestly Pans, I think you're overthinking this."

"Thank you," Blaise murmured.

"We are talking about Umbridge, the seemingly omnipresent, omniscient waft of a woman, there is no overthinking."

"This much commitment you could almost pass for a Gryffindor." Pansy nearly winced at Blaise's' words, peaking at Draco who had quickly turned in his chair, head lowered into a large tome, pretending to be utterly absorbed by it, but Pansy knew better. His shoulders were tense, and she could see his jaw working over the pain, as if he were chewing it. They hadn't spoken about what had happened in the common room, but she knew that the memory of the night was with him always. she hadn't dared bring it up knowing that the shame of being seen like that would be too much for him.

"You're a dick," Pansy sniffed, throwing the hat on the sofa, "Umbridge isn't going away, so we need to at least know what we are dealing with," something that had been made so much harder by Crabbe and Goyle's reluctance to speak to her. It was a strange thing to find herself admitting, but the two boy mountains had been so tight-lipped she'd almost begun to believe that there might be more going on between their ears than all of them had initially thought. Scary possibility though it was, Pansy could not shake the feeling that maybe they were doing some scheming of their own. When she'd tried to voice her concerns aloud, they had died a death of sheer absurdity, because they couldn't – the pair still struggled to dress themselves let alone achieve the higher mental capacity it took to create and implement a plan, all while managing to operate under the radar.

"Sure, you don't want to come with us, mate?" Blaise asked, looking over at Draco, who turned tiredly, every move seeming to be an unbearable effort.

"No." He gestured to the stack of scrolls in front of him and Blaise only nodded, not asking anymore. There was no doubt that the dark-haired boy could be a pain in the arse, sometimes sinking to Nott's level of childish japes, but there were those moments when he just knew, reading the room with some deeper insight, backing off just when it was right to do so. Pansy could tell he knew there was something up with his friend, but he didn't push the subject and she couldn't help but admire him for that.

"So, dare I ask what the plan is?"

"We sneak into Umbridge's office and look for stuff."

"That's incredibly precise Pans, you might need to write that down for me."

"Zabini's right, there's a lot of moving parts, lots of minutiae," Draco added drily. Pansy glared at them both but said nothing, quietly grateful that Draco was joking with them again. It might have been at her expense, but those japes told her that he was taking tiny steps back to being himself.

"I know what I'm looking for."

"Wouldn't it be good for me to know too, seems as I'm going with you?"

"Idiot," Draco mumbled.

"I know," Blaise replied quickly, face breaking out in a wide grin.

"You are there to keep watch Zabini, make sure I don't get caught."

"I thought I was the reason you were going to get caught?"

"Well, if you would just wear the hat…"

"Put that sodding thing down. Why do you even need someone to keep watch, I thought you were 'at one with the shadows'."

"I will be, you're just an extra precaution. Now come on, we are wasting time here."

"I believe it was you wasting the time with your stupid outfit," Blaise grumbled, walking begrudgingly as Pansy jostled him toward the door. `

"Merlin go with you, my friend," Draco called after them, chuckling when Blaise shot him a withering glance before being pushed out of the door.

Neither he nor Pansy glanced back to the blonde, too caught up in grouching at one another, and so they did not notice him suddenly disappear from his chair, his quill falling to the ground in his absence, white against the dark carpet.

The kittens were creepy in the dim glow of the moonlight, little gremlins peering out from their china plates with yellow eyes. Blaise shivered, turning to look at Pansy who was moving quickly across the room, hand covering her mouth. She shoved a window open and took a gulping breath of cool night air, a small smile of relief curving her lips.

"Sorry, that women's perfume is suffocating," Pansy explained, waving her hand in front of her nose to rid herself of the last vestiges of it.

There definitely was a pungent floral stench to the room that cloyed thickly in the air, catching in the back of the throat with a burn that made the eyes water. Blaise couldn't help but thinking that the odour Umbridge was surprisingly close to the feelings the woman elicited in others, seeping into classrooms nefariously and choking the life out of every living being in the vicinity, as if she were herself a walking, talking Suffocanto spell.

"Does she empty the bottle over her head?" Blaise asked, coughing as loudly as he dared in the stillness of the room, the kitten nearest him let out a low rumble of annoyance. "These things are creepy," he pressed his face as close, jumping back quickly when the yellow-eyed demonic fur ball hissed at him, "any chance we can move this along?"

"You can't tell me you're scared of a teeny-tiny kitty?" Pansy scoffed.

"Whatever that is, it is not a kitty, besides it's too…pink in here."

Pansy bit back a retort, silently conceding that he did have a point. Even in the darkness everything was obnoxiously pink, washed out and paled by the moonlight, but still without any shadow of a doubt, pink. In the daylight it was a retina destroying clash of different shades that had any student unfortunate to be in there, struggling to find a place to focus on without fear of damaging their eyesight forever. Even Anrose, famed for her love of fuchsia admitted that the woman's office was just too much.

"So, you're hoping to find what exactly?"

"Evidence."

"Ah yes, evidence, I forgot how specific you were being about all of this. Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't found it yet."

"Aren't you supposed to be keeping watch for me?"

"Coasts all clear, Potty, get back to your snooping."

"Urgh don't joke about that please, his glasses are disgusting."

Blaise quietly opened the door peering out into the dimness of the corridor. He'd been surprised by the lack of precaution Umbridge had taken, a simple locking spell the only thing standing between Pansy and Blaise and all of the woman's secrets, whatever they might be.

"Find anything?"

"Give me a chance," Pansy whispered furiously, fumbling around in one the draws, "are we sure this woman isn't crossed with a Niffler, by mighty magic of Merlin she hoards that much tacky crap."

"Umbridge clearly likes her shiny things," Blaise commented, turning to look at the handful of necklaces that Pansy was brandishing.

"Why is it even in here?"

"Maybe she likes to keep them close."

"Well, she's not close to them now, is she?"

"I hope not, otherwise we've got a bit of a problem."

Pansy grumbled something under her breath, dropping the necklaces on the desk with a heavy thud and continuing her search through the draws. There was a surprising lack of papers to be found, mostly nick-nacks and detritus that meant very little to the young witch, but she paused when she found a scroll amidst the junk, the stern slant of the writing familiar to her. She pulled it out, muttering Lumos, eyes widening when the cold light of her wand highlighted the name scrawled at the bottom of page, Lucius Malfoy.

To the High Inquisitor,

It has come to my attention that you have the arduous role of bringing Hogwarts back to looking something like a school. Know that you have mine and many others unwavering support. Too long the mighty reputation of that school has bent and threatened to break under the weak-willed guidance of one that would run it into the ground before doing the right and the honorable. Leading it as it should be lead. I believe that there will be no risk of that with you at the helm, I have heard great and inspiring things that suggest that you will light a great path that every young witch and wizard will aspire to walk, with their heads held high.

Pansy couldn't stop herself from scoffing down at the letter with disgust, wondering when he would quit burying his head in her perfumed rear to actually get to his point. She couldn't fathom the vast difference between the veritable tome he had written to a mere stranger in comparison to the short sharp missive he had penned to his own son. In fact, the amount of warmth he showed to Umbridge was verging on the uncomfortable.

Many parents have drawn my attention to our superb actions; instilling stricter rules, punishing those that misbehave as they should be punished (unflinchingly and without remorse), and flushing out those within the school's staff that have shown themselves to be inadequate at best and incompetent at worst. This is an issue that we have brought before your predecessor so many times and it has always sadly fallen on deaf ears, but no longer. You also have our unshakeable support with regards to the teaching and decorum throughout the school, it was always thought that the students in previous years were privy to far too much information and, as such, exposed both themselves and others to unnecessary risk, risk that could have absolutely been avoided had teachers conducted themselves as they should. Even my own son as victim to the malpractice prevalent throughout the faculty,

"Oh, sweet Merlin, get the point already," Pansy ground out. She wasn't fooled, she knew Lucius Malfoy didn't care what had happened to Draco, or why it had happened. The whole Buckbeak fiasco had been nothing more than the aristocratic wizard capitalizing on a bad situation, exerting control on the ministry, and testing how many strings he could get away with pulling. The answer had been quite a few and now it seemed he was wheedling his way into Umbridge's good books.

"What's the matter?"

"Just keep an eye out," Pansy spat, feeling only slightly bad that she was taking her frustration out on him, he didn't deserve it. Luckily, he didn't seem to mind, turning back to the hall with a shrug.

I would like to take this opportunity to point out something that has been made known to me, and is, I feel, of grave concern. It has been found that, should a student wish to converse with those outside of the safe walls of Hogwarts, they may do so utilising means that are in no way in keeping with the controlled and mediated means of owls, but rather through fireplaces. I do not need to tell you that this is incredibly risky, exposing students to all manner of nefarious influences that could mean to poison the student body against the very ministry itself. I do not feel that I overstep the mark by suggesting that this may have already begun to happen. I do not blame the students, of course, being more vulnerable and easily lead it is a certainty that they would trust innocently and implicitly any individual that claimed to speak truth. But we must educate them, promote only truth and make them aware of how much the Ministry strives to do for them.

I do not doubt your leadership and am aware that this letter may find you already wand deep in handling the issue and bringing those who would mislead the students under the heavy hand of the law. But I offer my services, such as they are, and wish you well on your journey to building a bright future for Hogwarts. Enclosed is a spell that has served me well over the years, it has rooted out disrespect and secrecy and I hope that it will do the same for you, should you choose to utilise it. Take it and know that we who take our children's safety and education seriously, are with you. May we all work together and soon bring to the rest of the world what you have so bravely and brilliantly brought to that school.

LM

Pansy hunted for the spell but couldn't find it among the other odd bits of paper, instead, her blood ran cold when she noticed a small volume tucked up the back of a draw, sticking out at an odd angle. A gentle tug lifted the bottom of the draw, revealing a hidden compartment that Umbridge, in a hurry, had not quite managed to place the book into, jamming against the back of the draw when she had pushed it shut.

"Blood purity in the modern age," Pansy read it quietly, hardly able to believe she was holding the book in her hands. She'd never actually seen the volume in real life, all her knowledge pertaining to the infamous work having come from other students who swore that their parents owned a copy. Every aristocratic pureblood knew of it, banned though it was, and was quoted incessantly by those that still believed in the purity of blood above all things.

Pansy had never had had any strong feelings one way or the other about it, though her parents had spoken to her many times about the values of keeping bloodlines pure in their own cold and unfeeling way, and she'd never questioned them, she'd never had any reason to. But then again, she'd never truly listened to them either. Even when she'd met Granger, the first bona fide Mudblood she had laid her eyes on, she'd been more infuriated by the know-it-alls seemingly natural way with magic, when she herself had always found spells so difficult. She'd been ashamed of her inability and took it out on the nerdiest nerd, ever to nerd - Mudblood just happened to have more weight to it, slicing at her in the way that none of the other insults seemed to. But the small volume she held in her hands spoke of purging, ridding the wizarding world of the pretenders by any means necessary. Sure, she didn't like Granger very much, but killing her? Killing anyone? Such a thought had never crossed her mind, and just the thought of it had her wanting to throw the book as far away from her as possible. She resisted the urge though, and with shaking fingers opened it.

Whatever hope she'd had of convincing herself that Umbridge had confiscated the copy died before it had a chance to germinate because there was her name, scratched into the front of it with what felt like a bold sort of pride. It was a foolish move really, blatant and full of risk, but Pansy had the worrying thought that maybe Umbridge wasn't scared of being caught because no one was looking for her. As far as the Ministry were concerned there was no danger beyond a rogue Dumbledore, and to all other concerns, Umbridge was the answer.

"Shit."

"What? What's the matter?" Blaise called, Pansy chucked slid the book into the secret space beneath the false bottom, and slammed the draw closed, wanting to create as much distance between it and her skin as possible.

"It doesn't matter, let's just get out of here," She murmured, suddenly very aware of all the yellow eyes on her, how quiet all the kittens had become, just watching.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Something like that…"

"Godric's balls," Blaise hissed, quietly shutting the door, and muttering the locking spell under his breath, "someone's coming." No sooner had he whispered it Pansy heard the mumble of distant voices, their footsteps getting louder with every second that passed.

"Fuck off with that house trait dragon shit, you were right there with me." Pansy gulped, refusing to look at Blaise at the sound of Draco's muffled voice.

"It's called dignity, Malfoy, I'm not going to get on my knees and grovel when someone clearly doesn't want me."

"That's not what I said…"

"Isn't it? Because I'm pretty sure that's exactly what you said."

"Fine time to be bringing this up, Granger, you didn't have this problem a few weeks ago, too worried about OWLs coming up."

"What the…" Blaise started, mouth falling open as he realised who was on the other side of the door with Draco.

"I was hurt. I have never been this close to anyone, never – never felt this way about anyone and you just – you pretended like it didn't matter."

"I didn't."

"Save it. As always you made not caring look so easy."

"Easy? You think any of this is easy?" There were sounds of footsteps moving past the door.

"Granger, wait…"

"No."

"Hermione." A heavy silence followed that felt monumental and all too personal. Both Pansy and Blaise jumped when it was broken by a thud against the door. Wet noises followed that had Pansy cringing into the sleeve of her sweater.

"Stop," Granger sounded breathless through the door.

"Nothing about this is easy. All I think about is holding you, kissing you," there was a pause that felt like an eternity, "touching you." A gasp followed had Pansy contemplating throwing herself out the nearest window.

"You said my name," The light chuckle that followed has such warmth to it, that if Pansy hadn't of known better, she would have thought that someone else, less Slytherin, was stood in the corridor with the Know-it-all.

"Yeah, I did, Hermione." The volume of gasps and laboured breaths only seemed to increase, and Pansy paced to the other side of the room, hoping to create some distance.

"What the fuck," Blaise mouthed it to her, jabbing a finger accusingly at the groaning door, creaking under the weight of whatever gross things the pair were doing on the other side.

"Oh fuck, Filch. Why is he always showing up?" Draco spat it angrily.

"Shh, come with me." Their footsteps petered off into the distance followed a few minutes later by the tell-tale shuffle of Filch. After a few moments even that had gone.

"What in Godric's Tit was that? I feel like Avadering my ears."

"Just going to remind you that we are still out after hours, breaking into a teacher's office, would be great if you didn't get us caught," Pansy sniffed, even though she echoed his sentiments entirely.

"I think this is a little more pressing that possibly getting caught, don't you? What was Draco doing with the Know-it-all and why the fuck are you so calm?" He searched her face, eyes widening, "Shit, you knew?"

"Yes," it was a lot harder to admit than she'd expected, but once it was out there, she had no choice but to continue, "yes I know, but I'd really like it if you held off on the freaking out till we are out of Umbridge's office."

But - But – Granger?"

"Yes, Granger, I know. It's like the punchline of some really shit joke."

"A really shit joke. How long has that been…" He gestured toward the door, pulling a face.

"I promise to tell you all I know as soon as we get…" Both Blaise and Pansy paused when a small squeak interrupted their conversation. As one they turned to the window.

"You're seeing what I am, right?" Pansy whispered.

"A Niffler floating through the window?"

"Uh-huh."

The furry creature was dropped onto Umbridge's desk with an annoyed squeak, and another furry companion soon followed it through the window, wiggling its legs as it floated through the air.

"Where are they coming from?"

"I – I don't know -" The Niffler closest to Pansy had let out a short squeak and jumped off the desk towards Pansy, its tiny claws scrabbling for the hypnotising glint of silver around Pansy's neck. "No, no, fuck off. Blaise, it's going for my necklace," Pansy hissed, hands grabbling for its wiggling furry behind. Blaise attempted to help, getting a good grip on the small writhing mass and yanking.

"Salazar, this thing is strong," He grunted as it tried to wriggle away, throwing him off balance and straight into one of Umbridge's gaudy cabinets, all draped in pink lace doileys.

"Pan's, watch out." While one of the other Niffler's had been distracted by the bountiful treasure trove of shiny things on Umbridge's desk, the other had zeroed in on Pansy and was hopping nimbly towards her.

"Quick, the door," Pansy ran for the door, yanking it open as Blaise chucked the Niffler in arms, aiming for the pursuing Niffler so they collided, falling in a furry tumble and fell to the floor with a squeak. They both stumbled into the corridor, slamming the door shut behind them, listening to the dull thump and squeak of the little creatures as they threw themselves against the oak door.

"That was close."

"What in Merlin's Beard are they doing in there?"

"Seems like someone's idea of a prank."

"You don't think Peeves has something to do with this, do you?" Pansy queried, catching her breath.

"Nah, not his style, not destructive enough."

"I don't know, that felt pretty destructive."

"So you going to explain the erm, you know." Pansy sighed, pushing herself off the door, nodding tiredly.

"Okay, but you are going to need to be sat down for this."