CHAPTER THREE: The Hospital Wing

Pansy Parkinson hated everyone – but also herself. She hated herself for hating others. For not knowing when to shut up and for neglecting the power of muscles.

She was in the hospital wing, lying in one of the semi-comfortable beds. She still felt the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. Her left cheek hurt terribly and was possibly just as swollen as it felt. She slowly opened her eyes to see Zabini with a nasty smile on his face, bending over her bed.

'Welcome to the living,' he said, ignoring her thunderous glare. 'What did you say to her? There are already legends about you, Parkinson. Apparently, you're a mudblood-lover now.'

Pansy smiled delicately but immediately regretted it as she felt a terrible pain in her jaw.

'This is what you get for being sarcastic to the wrong people,' she replied quietly.

Blaise just shook his head in disbelief.

'Daphne was worried about you,' he said, much to her surprise. 'She visited you a fair few times. So did Nott.'

'Daphne?'

'You know, she's not that bad, which you can't say about Davis. Or Bulstrode, not while looking at your face,' he chuckled. 'She's just… Well, she's still playing this role while you've given up this year. You know how it is. It's a prestige of sorts.'

She tried smiling again but regretted it even more when she felt stinging across her cheek.

'Was Draco here?' asked Pansy finally, trying to sound casual. Blaise's face fell, so she already knew the answer, which made her heart grow colder with disappointment.

'Wow,' she said, not even trying to hide that she was let down. 'After all these years –'

'Don't hold it against him,' he interrupted, serious as she'd never seen him. 'He's got a lot of… things on his mind.'

'What? Like what? What do you mean?' she asked, sounding much more aggressive than she'd intended to.

He looked at her meaningfully, warning her against continuing this topic. But she held his gaze and was not going to back down, not now.

'I don't know,' he sighed finally with resignation.

'Really, Zabini? You're in on it, too? I really expected better from –'

'I don't know, okay?' he raised his voice.

He sighed again and not meeting her gaze continued, 'I know something's up, but I don't know what. I know Nott knows everything, but I don't. All I know is that it's not going to end well for Draco. Or it doesn't seem that way, at least.'

There was a moment of silence as Pansy considered his words. She didn't really know what to do with it – Blaise's help would not only be beneficial, but even essential. However, she wasn't sure if he was up for meddling in anyone's life. Besides, he might warn Draco that she's… investigating him. But on the other hand, they've been friends for a long time, so she was hoping he'd want to help her… And him.

'Would you like to find out, then?' she asked, looking straight into his dark eyes.

'...I don't think spying on him would be a good idea.'

'Well, I don't think his bloody mission is doing him any good, is it?' she fired back.

'And what we can do about it?'

'Once we know what's up we can help him. We have to help him. I know you're worried just as much as me.'

Blaise gave her a surprised look and whistled mockingly.

'If I told someone that Pansy Parkinson wants to help someone because she's – er – worried, they would've sent me straight to St. Mungo's.'

She didn't respond but pierced him with a challenging glare.

'I'll help you,' he said after a moment, leaving her dumbfounded. 'I'm afraid it's a more serious matter. He might not admit it because, well, he's too proud to do so, but he'll use some help. Or… support, whatever you want to call it.'

'Thanks,' she said before she could stop herself. Blaise looked at her as if she'd gone crazy.

'If you say one more nice word, I'll send myself to St. Mungo's – apparently, I'm hearing voices. Or maybe Milicent's punch messed that much with your head?' he chuckled ironically.

She shook her head in disbelief, but it actually got her thinking. It was so much easier to hate people. To feel reluctance and contempt. If she cared… Just like she did with… Well, she wasn't sure if it was something she could live through. She hated feelings, and that was the reason she pushed them away and – if possible – destroyed them as soon as she realised they were there.

She despised most people because there was usually something wrong with them – either background, character or plain stupidity. Obviously, there were people that she could remain civil with – connections are essential, especially in the wizarding world. But she hated attachment – and this is why she was angry with her younger self for not controlling it and finding herself attached to none other than Draco Malfoy. Thank Salazar, she managed to realise so quickly that most people were not even worth it. And when it came to her friends from the dormitory, she saw almost immediately how untrustworthy they were. Luckily, she still managed to befriend Daphne, who was… not so bad. But since she was friends with other 'Slytherin stars', it wasn't so hard to ignore her most of the time as well. That was the reason why she always wondered how she got around to like Nott and Zabini. She met Draco and Daphne at the very beginning. As for the other two, they met during the first year, when she'd already realised it wasn't really her thing to play nice. Once she understood that the reason for it was because she hated everyone, she was either thankful for those she had or furious with herself for even having feelings.

'Well, well, look at that. Pansy Parkinson and her infamous encounter with Milicent's fist,' the voice broke her out of her thoughts.

'Oh, look at that, Theodore Nott and his poor jokes,' said Pansy with a smirk, noticing the blonde boy entering the Hospital Wing and sitting next to her bed. His hair was falling into his eyes again – she couldn't understand why it didn't bother him.

'Ah, yes, Pansy Parkinson, the queen of sarcasm, who obviously meant that I'm the funniest guy she's ever met.'

'In your dreams, Nott,' she replied quickly, glancing at him sceptically.

'So, any final words? Have you written a will and passed everything on to me?' he asked with a grin, 'Who would've thought that it'd be our dear friend Bulstrode who would send you to your deathbed.'

'I always assumed it would be your jokes.'

'Ah, probably because they're just so good, you'd die of laughing.'

'Or rather of feeling embarrassed for you.'

'Well, look at you, Parkinson, how lucky I am that our dear friend Bulstrode didn't knock this wit out of you,' he smiled genuinely.

'Look at you, Nott, making jokes out of your painfully injured friend,' said Pansy, returning the smile.

'So there is damage in your brain, after all, since you're using the f-word,' noticed Theo, but Pansy just rolled her eyes.

'And it must be seriously severe since Blaise tells me you're nice now.'

'Oh, sod off, Nott. If you call me nice once again, I'm going to fight both Blaise and you, Milicent-style.'

'There she is,' he laughed. 'So, how are you?'

'Pretty sure I won't be able to eat anything for the rest of my life. Not bad, nonetheless.'

'What did you say to her? Apparently, you're having an affair with Granger now,' he chuckled. 'Or are you at the stage of planning a wedding? I got a bit lost.'

'What?' she said through the gritted teeth.

'Well, I don't really know who started it, but last I heard, you were confessing her undying love at the entrance of the Gryffin-dorks dormitory.'

She just glared at him until he stopped laughing.

'Just saying what I've heard so far,' he raised his arms defensively.

Suddenly, the door to the hospital opened and before they saw who came in, they heard humming. A moment later, they saw Luna Lovegood hopping merrily down the room, evidently looking for Madam Pomfrey. Theo and Pansy shared sceptical looks.

'Well, that should fuck my day up even more,' whispered Pansy urgently.

'Don't be such a drama queen,' scolded her Nott.

She rolled her eyes again, but to their surprise, Lovegood stopped short near her bed. She looked – as usual – as if she wasn't even there, but somewhere in her own world.

'It's good you changed your opinion, you know,' she said dreamily. 'It's always nice when people are changing for the better.'

'Well, Loony, hate to disappoint you, but your little made-up stories have become more ridiculous than Trelawney's predictions,' Pansy replied coldly.

'I hope you'll realise that too' she added, looking directly at Theo, who was completely taken aback. 'They're not different, you see.'

Lovegood carried on (in hops, of course) and Pansy spat with contempt.

'She didn't even listen to me!'

'That was… weird.'

'Yeah, well, I can't wait until I can get out of here.'

Luckily, the next day Madam Pomfrey let her go and told her to get to class. They had Charms first, and she was watching Draco from the other side of the corridor. She was currently in phase two – believing that if she didn't care, she would've been happier. She could've been studying for Charms or simply chat with Blaise. But no. She had to help Draco, of course. At those times, she hated herself. She had to watch paler-than-ever Malfoy pacing around the corridor, not paying attention to anything or anyone. He even accidentally bumped into Granger and didn't comment that. That was worse than she could've predicted.

'He looks as if he didn't sleep last week at all,' said Pansy worriedly.

'That would be because he didn't,' replied Blaise, and she looked at him with fright.

'He's casting silencing charms, but we can see the light behind the curtains. I reckon he's trying to figure out this task of his and is having problems with it,' he explained.

Draco was talking urgently to Crabbe and Goyle, casting nervous glances all around.

'You don't think they know something, do you?' she asked in a shaky voice.

'Crabbe and Goyle?' he snorted. 'They're great pawns for him, they do what he says, but they're as dumb as mountain trolls.'

'Exactly.'

Pansy suddenly moved in their direction, but Blaise instantly grabbed her arm.

'What, in Salazar's name, are you doing?' he asked, bewildered.

'Interrogating them.'

'You're a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake, don't act like a sodding idiot,' he scolded her, almost disgusted. She wanted to come back at him, but decided against it and pursed her lips instead.

'We have to wait 'til they're alone,' said Blaise matter-of-factly, 'We need a plan if we want to get anything out of them. But most importantly, we have to get rid of Theo, who apparently decided to be his guard or something. Or, if we want to do it in a proper Slytherin way, we can somehow get him on our side.'

She nodded in agreement, so he finally let go of her arm. Obviously, he was right, she acted like a bloody Gryffindor. That would not happen again, ever. She found Draco with her eyes again. Zabini told the truth – there was Nott, standing with no particular reason a few steps behind him and not letting Malfoy out of his sight. Although, for a second he looked directly into Pansy's eyes.

She averted the gaze almost instantly and concluded, 'After classes in the library.'

Blaise just nodded.

She didn't know what would she do if she found out that Crabbe and Goyle knew about everything. Even the thought alone managed to cause her nausea.

She didn't understand why he didn't trust her – they were very close, and he told her almost everything. She knew about issues with his father, about his crazy aunt who escaped Azkaban, and how he was worried about his mother. She knew how much he wanted to impress his parents. Moreover, she knew all those cute stories from childhood, back when Draco and Theo were spending a lot of time together. If he told her all that, why was he rejecting her now? Pansy Parkinson hated being rejected.