The Downfall of Pansy Parkinson

Disclaimer: have never owned, don't own, never will own

Author thanks: at the bottom

Chapter 2: Consultation with a Gryffindor

Neville was true to his word. The following day, Saturday, Hermione was nicely settled in the library with her homework spread out in front of her when Blaise suddenly appeared in front of her. Her eyes were gleaming. "Neville said you had something for me. Some kind of potion."

Hermione blinked at the sudden appearance before gesturing to the empty chair beside her. Blaise obligingly sat and gazed intently at Hermione, who held out a piece of parchment that was covered in her neat handwriting. "Polyjuice Potion," she informed the Slytherin in a lowered voice, to prevent anyone from overhearing. "It physically transforms you into another person for an hour at a time. It's complicated and takes about a month to complete, but I made it when I was only a second-year, so…"

Blaise smiled wickedly. I like it, Granger! It's the ideal plan; people will actually be seeing Pansy, and only a select few – you, Draco, Neville and myself – will know any different! When do we start?"

"As soon as we can," replied Hermione briskly, flattening out the piece of parchment that bore the procedure for making the potion. She was in her element now, sharing knowledge. "We can get the lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed and knotgrass easily enough from the student store-cupboard without any awkward questions being asked. It's just the powdered horn of a Bicorn and the shredded skin of a Boomslang that could prove to be tricky."

"You said you've made it before," stated Blaise, who rarely missed anything, however small and insignificant it seemed to be. This was one of the main reasons for her high social standing in Slytherin. "How did you get the Bicorn horn and Boomslang skin back then?"

"Remember the lesson when someone threw a firework into Goyle's cauldron to make it explode? Double Potions, Thursday afternoon, second week in December? Harry created the diversion and I stole the relevant items from Snape's private stores."

Blaise's green eyes were wide in amazement and admiration. "Stealing from Snape takes serious guts! Hermione Granger, you could have been a Slytherin with behaviour like that!"

"I daren't try anything like that again, though," Hermione cautioned. "Snape doesn't forget things like that."

Blaise shrugged easily. "I have ways that don't include the necessity of infuriating Snape."

"Oh?"

Blaise sighed impatiently. "Granger, although my family don't really get involved in politics, we do have a substantial number of former Slytherins in our midst. As such, I have…contacts, shall we say, who can get me everything we need, no questions asked, without taking the hugest-in-the-entire-world, death-defying risk of Stealing From Snape. Let me handle that side of things. How much of each ingredient do we need?" She pulled out a fluffy green Muggle pen from her bright yellow pencil case and examined the recipe closely. "Hmmm…Yes, my cousin Felicia can get me all of these. If I owl her now, they should come by Tuesday."

"And what exactly does Felicia do that provides her with such easy access to these kinds of ingredients?" Hermione asked, although she almost didn't want to know the answer.

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies." Blaise tapped her freckled nose to emphasise her statement.

"Why?" Hermione would never describe herself as 'nosy'; she was curious and inquisitive, hungry for knowledge about the world that she inhabited.

Blaise paused. "I rather doubt you'd want to know."

"Wrong. I do."

Blaise hurriedly looked from side to side, thick curls hitting her in the face, as she checked for possible eavesdroppers. This did not stop her from creating a Silencing Bubble around the two of them to guarantee secrecy. Unspeakables used such things all the time, apparently.

Hermione glanced around at the Bubble that now surrounded herself and Blaise. It shimmered with a blue iridescent glow. She wasn't really all that surprised that the other girl had used this spell – it was the only way secrecy could be completely ensured. "Go on."

Blaise, purely for dramatic reasons (she liked to be dramatic), leaned in closely to the Gryffindor prefect. "Felicia is heavily involved in potion-trading."

"Potion-trading?"

"It's not exactly what you would consider to be 'above board'."

"Ah. I see."

Blaise's face grew suddenly fierce and she met Hermione's gaze with a burning intensity. "You tell anyone, and I will personally ensure that neither you nor the person – or people – you tell will never be able to remember so much as your own names!"

Hermione recoiled, blinking rapidly. Blaise's outburst in itself had not been much of a surprise – she'd seen her threaten several students, regardless of house or year group – but the intensity of it had. "I – I promise."

"Good. Now, when do we start and where do we make it?"

Hermione thought momentarily. "Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. It's where I made it last time, and nobody will suspect anything because she floods it so often that nobody ever uses it."

Blaise grinned widely. "I am liking this! I'll owl Felicia now. I'll slip a note into your bag in Monday's Potions to keep you informed about the state of play. Now, I've got to go – tutoring to do." She stood, gathering her things.

"Tutoring?"

"Yes, tutoring. You know, helping someone else with the academic side of things?"

"Since when do Slytherins tutor?"

Blaise rolled her eyes irritably. "Granger, I want to help the younger kids – and there's the added bonus that it all helps in my quest to overthrow a certain person. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really have to go." She removed the Bubble from around them and strode briskly away.

Hermione watched her go, and couldn't help smiling. Blaise Ehrgeiz Zabini was certainly a colourful character. She had never actually disliked the girl, as she had never done anything to her.

This could be interesting, she thought to herself as she turned her attention back to her homework. I'm rather looking forward to seeing Pansy Parkinson losing her position as prefect.

"Blaise, what's up with you this morning?" demanded Draco irritably on Monday. It was breakfast and he wasn't quite awake yet. He rubbed his eyes and took a bit from his toast. "You're acting like you're possessed or something!" He leaned close to her and gazed intently into her eyes. "You're not, are you?"

Blaise kicked him hard on the ankle. "Keep your voice down! Do you want certain people to get even the faintest glimmer of an inkling about what we're up to? Do you?"

Draco reached down and rubbed his ankle, glaring at her. "That hurt, Zabini! If you're going to kick me, you could be a little more gentle!"

"Wimp," Blaise shot back. She opened her mouth to say more, but Draco was spared further disparaging remarks by a sudden commotion and a flurry of owls. Some excited first-year Hufflepuff, obviously Muggleborn, screamed (rather pointlessly, in Draco's opinion), "Owl post!"

Blaise rolled her eyes. "And stupid me thought it was mice," she muttered scathingly under her breath. However, her eyes lit up as an elegant kestrel made a beeline for her, a box-shaped package in its grasp. It carefully placed the parcel on the table beside Blaise and took some bacon from the nearby platter on the Slytherin table.

"Oh, look. Zabini's got a parcel. Has Daddy remembered you at last?" inquired a sneering female voice.

In a split second, Draco's wand was aimed at the speaker's heart, his grey eyes ablaze with fury. "Shut your overlarge mouth, Parkinson!" he hissed, oblivious to the silence that had fallen over the Great Hall as the whole school watched the two sixth-year prefects with fearful anticipation.

"Or what?" challenged Pansy, eyes glittering maliciously. "We all know that your little girlfriend doesn't have a father any more. I happen to know why."

"Don't push me, Parkinson. My father was a Death Eater. He taught me a lot of the Dark Arts – far more than your father ever knew, simply because he didn't have the brains. My father was right in the Dark Lord's Inner Circle before his arrest; your father is nothing more than an expendable wannabe!"

Pansy's eyes narrowed. "What exactly are you saying, Malfoy?"

Draco feigned surprise and pity. "You mean you don't know?! Your own father a Death Eater and you don't know?!"

"Why you little…"

"What? What am I?" Draco was calm, cool, collected.

None of your damn business!"

"Fine." Draco shrugged. "Have it your way, then." He nudged Blaise. "Come on. Let's go."

Blaise picked up her parcel, and she and Draco turned to leave.

Someone screamed.

The Slytherins as one whirled round as Pansy began shouting something, presumably a long-winded incantation, wand aimed directly at the two sixth-years. The wand sparked, producing a dark, blurry, indistinct form.

Draco hissed something and the apparition that had emerged from Pansy's wand exploded upwards. "TAKE COVER!" he yelled, eyes not leaving Pansy. "EVERYONE!"

Nobody questioned him. He conjured up a shield around himself and Blaise a split second before the debris fell. Some of the pieces deflected off the shield; all pieces hit the floor, wall, and Slytherin and Ravenclaw benches and tables. Where the debris fell, the stone and wood hissed and bubbled, turning a scorched black. Pansy shrieked as she was burned.

Silence.

Snape was the first to react. He strode over to the Slytherin table to where Pansy stood. "That, Parkinson, was one of the most foolish things I have witnessed here at this school. And not only foolish, but also incredibly stupid and dangerous."

"It's not my fault Draco Malfoy cast that spell!" Pansy argued.

"As a prefect, Parkinson," said Snape coldly, "you should know rather better than you apparently do. I am taking thirty points from Slytherin – yes, from my own house – for your disgraceful actions. Quite what you were thinking, I do not know – no; I don't want to hear it – and take this as your final warning. Next time you cross the line, even slightly, I will be revoking your status as Prefect and appointing a more suitable person in your place."

"You – you can't do that!" spluttered Pansy angrily.

Snape smiled frostily. "Oh, I think you will find that I can, Parkinson. It is, after all, the Head of House that selects the prefects. Now go to Pomfrey to get those burns on your arm seen to."

Pansy opened her mouth to continue her protests, but a hard look from Snape made her change her mind, and she flounced off. Snape's dark eyes swept the Great Hall. "It is safe now. You can all come out."

A few Slytherins hesitantly emerged from under their table. Not to be outdone, the Gryffindors were quick to follow, and soon everyone was settled in their places again. Blaise, somewhat shaken, turned to Draco, her face hard. "We have to sort her once and for all, Draco; we have to!"

Draco nodded fervently as he removed the shield from around them. He glanced at the still-unopened parcel next to Blaise's plate, where she had put it after sitting down to recover. "What's in the parcel?"

Blaise glared at him. "Not so loud!" she hissed, glancing around for eavesdroppers, relieved when there appeared to be none. She picked up the aforementioned parcel, stood up and hauled her best friend to his feet by his robes. "Your dorm. Now."

Draco obediently followed. Nobody argued with a determined, focused Zabini if they valued their life.

With the hangings drawn around Draco's bed and numerous silencing spells placed around them, Blaise carefully unwrapped the four layers of brown paper that was around the package. She sat cross-legged, directly across from Draco, brown curls cascading over her shoulders from two bunches on top of her head. "This," she announced dramatically, "is a great prize from my cousin Felicia."

Draco arched one elegant eyebrow. "Indeed? Do elaborate. We have Arithmancy in half an hour and you know Vector throws a hissy fit if anyone's late."

"No problem." Blaise waved him off dismissively. "Behold the key to our success."

Draco looked at her, still none the wiser and not looking too pleased about it. "Still confused, Zabini."

Blaise sighed irritably, impatiently rolling her eyes. "Powdered Bicorn horn and shredded Boomslang skin, you twit! I told you Felicia was sending it!"

"Ohhhhh!" Draco's grey eyes glittered with anticipation. This was definitely looking good. "But what's it for?"

"Polyjuice Potion. I drink the stuff and turn into Pansy for an hour –"

"Rather you than me."

Blaise glared at him. "And then I carry out the act that gets her kicked out of office. All you have to do is make sure Pansy can't ruin it. Knock her out, drug her, lock her in a cupboard, tie her to the bedposts…Do what you have to do. Just keep her out of the way and under close scrutiny at all times. Got it?"

Draco saluted her. "Yes, ma'am."

"As for the part about 'a bit of the person you want to turn into', I can get one of Pansy's hairs from her hairbrush one morning. Simple."

"Where do you plan on keeping those ingredients in the meantime?" asked Draco, indicating the parcel.

"Granger. She said she'd keep them under her bed. Patil and Brown don't snoop. Parkinson and Bulstrode do. Macdougal doesn't, but that's irrelevant because of the other two. I'm giving the stuff to Granger in Arithmancy."

"To which we need to get a move on." Draco looked pointedly at his watch.

"Fine, fine, I get the message." Blaise carefully gathered up her parcel and put it in her schoolbag, which she then swung onto her shoulder. "I really want to sort Parkinson after that wisecrack at breakfast. Stupid cow. Just 'cause her father didn't walk out after being caught having an affair with that tart of a barmaid from The Three-Headed Serpent. Mind you, technically, Mum kicked him out. Probably for the best." She scowled. "Come on."

They were the first to arrive in Vector's classroom. Hermione turned up a minute or so later, and Blaise handed her the precious ingredients. Just in time, as Vector's footsteps were beginning to echo down the corridor.

TBC

Author thanks:

CatClawz: glad you like it so far, mellon nîn!

Lucidity: picky author! I still maintain that it's purple! I like that JK hasn't told us anything about Blaise (except that Blaise is officially a boy, but it's too late for this fic); it makes it more fun!!

Epiphanies: (blushes tomato red) Wow. Thankies, many times! Glad you're enjoying it thus far and I hope this chapter is equally good!

Lord Elrond of Hogwarts: Oops!! Thanks for catching me on the Adequate/Acceptable thing!! It's changed now!! Glad you're liking it so far!!