Delusion Chapter 11

Harry Potter was more than upset. Pansy…that… stupid wench! How dare she cheat on him… especially with his archenemy that awful inbreeded little… ooh, Harry was beyond mad. Stupid Draco Malfoy. Why hadn't he drowned himself in a well already? If he'd been named Draco he would've shot himself before he could count to five. Damn Draco… he was always taking whatever Harry remotely wanted.

The morning outside was bright and sunny but Harry felt dark and unhappy. And he was madder because the situation was so cliché.

Burn in hell, Malfoy, he thought angrily. Just burn! And Pansy could go fuck one of Hell's minions for all he cared.

To make matters worse, he wanted to confide in Hermione, and that girl was absolutely nowhere to be found. It almost seemed like she was avoiding him. Why on earth… he didn't even want to take the time and effort to contemplate it right now. His Sunday morning shouldn't be spent this gloomy, should it?

At that instant, Ron ambled up to him, looking mournful. "I'm awfully sorry about last night, Harry," he began gently. Oh, great. Typical best-friends-comfort-session.

"Just shut it, Ron," Harry growled, the moody characteristics from fifth year taking over again.

Ron looked indignant. "Harry, if you're going to go all moody over Pansy Pug Faced Parkinson then you're crazy! You know she's no good; I told you something like this would happen. It was probably a bloody bet anyway!"

Harry looked down at the floor determinedly. "Go away, Ron. Or, better yet, I'm going."

"Where are you going?" Ron asked, eyes narrowed.

"To the library," Harry replied, and darted out of the Gryffindor common room.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Why did I have to get stuck with two best friends who keep dashing off to the library?" he moaned to himself and sank down on the couch.

*****************

Pansy was pissed off, but that was nothing new among the Slytherin crowd. All of them had their own personalities and Pansy was resident bitch/resident slut/ resident better/ resident… ah, screw it, she thought to herself—she was resident everything except manipulator (title went to Draco). Speaking of that sodding bastard, he was more than definitely in trouble with her.

How dare he scream at her for liking a Gryffindor when he was fucking one behind her back!

And if he was fucking Granger… then that picture of Harry and Granger could not be true, unless Granger was a whore. Hah, Pansy thought happily, revenge would come… wait till Harry found out. Pansy reasoned that if she told Harry about this—damn, she wished she could have recorded the conversation!—then he would talk to her again. Pansy didn't care very much if Harry was emotionally attached to Granger; all she wanted from him was a little bit of physical lovin'.

He was sexy, and he was nice.

But he'd stormed off last night and she couldn't even confront him about his relationship with Granger.

Moodily, Pansy kicked her way through some first years and went to the library, hoping to see Harry there. She knew it wasn't one of his favorite haunts but maybe he was with Muddy Granger.

Creeping through the… oh, what were they?... oh yeah, books… a certain kind… textbooks, was it?...Pansy scanned every table. She beat up two second years that had refused to tell her where Harry was; because apparently he had threatened to beat them up if they told anyone his whereabouts. Two black eyes and three bruises later, the two of them pointed in a small corner of the library that Pansy didn't even know existed.

She found him sitting at a table and looking ready to tackle old Voldemort (poor chap was misunderstood!). "Harry," she said quietly and he spun around, the dislike evident in his face.

"Fuck. Those second years are in for a beating," he muttered.

She smiled. Maybe her Slytherin-ness was rubbing off on him. Conveniently neglecting to tell him that she'd already beat them up in order to find him, she sighed. "Look…what are you so pissed about? If anyone should be upset, it's me, and I'm not."

He gaped. "You?" he said incredulously. "You? You're the one who's taking Malfoy as a side order here!"

She scowled. "I am not," she said. "Haven't fucked him once this year! What are you on about?!"

Harry made a disbelieving noise half-way between a snort and a snicker. "Then take a look at this," he said, a thrust something into her face. She took it, bewildered, and saw that it was a picture. Hmm, nice… oh, look there she was, and she looked fantastic! You could really see those blonde highlights after all (damn Blaise was lying!)… and there was Draco, oh… she was kissing Draco. So that's what had stoned Harry over.

"Um, unless I was really, really drunk, I don't think this happened," she said simply, waving the photograph in Harry's face.

Harry snorted. "Your sense of humor always gets me," he said with a small lopsided grin.

"I wasn't kidding," she protested. "That picture's not true… here, look at this." With that she pulled out the photo she'd found last night as well—the one with Harry and Hermione.

"I'm willing to forgive you," she said and handed him the photograph. He took it and stared at it for a very long time.

"Now..." he began softly. "Where did you say you got this photograph?"

"I didn't," she reminded him. "But I found it last night in the Great Hall, and I wanted to talk to you about it but you'd stormed off. You've an awful temper, you know that?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. But the point is… I found the pic of you and Draco in the Great Hall as well."

Pansy's mind clouded over in contemplation. "Yeah?" she asked finally, not exactly wanting to believe the truth. Let him say it.

"It means that someone set us up."

Her eyes went wide, even though she knew this was the answer. Suddenly she remembered what she'd originally wanted to tell him. "Oh, I had to tell you something!"

His left eyebrow shot up. "Oh yeah? Something to do with this?"

She shrugged. "I dunno, you can tell me if it is. So last night I was on my way to the Slytherin dorms and guess who I heard talking."

He groaned. "I don't know… Millicent and her kitty?"

"No, you dope," she said playfully. "Draco and Hermione Granger."

He stopped mid-yawn. "You're kidding," he finally said. "You must be joking. They abhor each other."

"No, they don't," she argued. "At least according to their conversation they don't."

"What did they say?" he asked, his interest completely piqued.

"Well, I gather they'd been sleeping together until one of them fell in love! And they'd just broken up, I think, but neither of them wanted it to happen! And Draco was all like, "where did it go wrong?" and Gran—Hermione was all like, "when we put our hearts into it!" and Draco was all like, "it was really fun!" and Hermione was all like, "remember, I still hate you!" but it was so playful that you could tell she totally did not hate him!" Pansy's voice was breathless as her gossiping side took over.

Harry's eyes were wider than saucers. "I cannot believe this," he moaned. "This is not true."

"It is," she insisted, "I swear."

He shook his head. "I believe you, but… it makes me so mad! How dare Hermione warn me about you being in Slytherin, cold-hearted, and all of that crap, while she was fucking one of you behind my back!"

Pansy nodded sympathetically. "I feel the exact same way," she said vehemently. "That's exactly the same with Draco!"

Harry's eyes were glittering with a cold malice that Pansy hadn't seen before. She rather liked it. "You do not understand how vengeful this makes me," he said bitterly to Pansy.

"Vengeful enough for payback?" she suggested, thinking in her head of all the things she could do to Draco and Granger.

He nodded, almost imperceptibly. "Big time," he muttered. "Big time."

*******************

Hermione sat in a busy section of the library, fairly content because of all the studying sorts of people around her. This was who she was, she told herself firmly. A nice, studious girl with an aptitude for studies that belonged with other students that studied. Damn. In other words, she was beyond boring. She was hopeless.

She hated herself for it, but she really missed having that teensy little 'bad' side to her. It had been kind of… mind you, kind of… fun, in a way.

Damn it! Was she really having withdrawal symptoms from teaming up with Draco?

Apparently she was. Oh bugger. Mumbling to herself she concentrated on her Charms homework and tried to think of the lecture Professor Flitwick had given on Friday, but oddly, it was not possible. Her mind was too cluttered with the events of Saturday night. They'd succeeded in breaking up Pansy and Harry. That was a big accomplishment, although Hermione certainly did not want to see Harry's face after that one (she felt absolutely miserable about it!). She'd been stood up at the dance and had unfortunately been stuck with Malfoy for the night.

But that wasn't the problem.

The problem was that she hadn't felt like cutting off every one of her toes with a dull knife by the end of the evening. She'd felt elated that they'd succeeded, and then of course, immeasurably guilty.

Shutting her books firmly, she resolved there was no way she was going to get any extra studying done today. She decided to take a walk in the nice, cool air. She left her book bag in the library and stepped out, enjoying the nice breeze on the Hogwarts grounds. At first it seemed the grounds were empty, but as Hermione proceeded, she noticed with disdain that apparently Hogwarts' grounds were also termed wild-mating-session-for-horny-Hogwarts-students.

She had not come out here to see Terry Boot stick his tongue down Ginny Weasley's throat. On the other hand, this would make for interesting conversation with Ron.

She continued on, and soon spotted the boy her subconscious had been aching to see. Yes, it was definitely Draco Malfoy… and he wasn't alone either. Gods, that boy got around fast! Currently he was speaking to (Hermione craned her neck to see) Crabbe. Hermione giggled in spite of herself—the conversation, based on hand gestures, just looked hilarious. Draco was gesturing wildly with his hands and Crabbe's expression was a mixture of confusion, fear, and unhappiness. Poor kid.

As she walked by Draco noticed her and waved her down. "Oy, you!"

She turned, feigning a look of exasperation. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy? How can I be of service? Note the sarcasm, please."

"Will do. Need help—must explain to Crabbe that he can't go home for Christmas holidays and will be staying here because his mum and dad are going to Bora Bora!"

"Well why didn't they owl him?" she asked.

"They did! Do you think he can read?" Draco asked, breathing heavily. Hermione could tell he was trying to be patient, but at that moment she snorted. "Do calm yourself," he snapped, "and help me."

Rolling her eyes Hermione began. "Crabbe," she said imploringly, "you're staying at Hogwarts for Christmas, where you can have all the cakes and cookies your mum would never let you eat when you were little."

Crabbe cocked his head. "Cookies?" he asked. "Goody! I get to stay at Hogwarts!" With that Crabbe moseyed off, mumbling something about cakes.

Draco glared at her. "How could you do it so fast?" he grumbled.

She scowled. "And how come you couldn't? I don't even know the bloke and I said something he understood!"

"Well you try explaining stuff to him!"

"I just did!"

"Shut up, you stupid cow!"

Gathering her energy, Hermione glowered at him—she was in for a long fight.

********************

Harry followed Pansy dubiously, not sure whether to believe her or not. Well, he did believe her… but he didn't want to. He was furious—no, livid, at Hermione and Malfoy (but then, when was he not upset with the latter?). And if Pansy was telling the absolute truth, it was time for a little of their own medicine…

What were they going to do?

Suddenly Pansy stopped right in front of him. "What is it?" he snarled, somehow still a bit angry with her.

"Look," she whispered and pointed up ahead of her. They were on the Hogwarts grounds; there were a hundred places to look. Could she have been any vaguer?

"Where?" he asked, rolling his eyes.

"Up there, next to that clump of trees, Harry. Honestly, use your eyes. What are we talking about here? Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger… any of that ring a bell, dumbass?" Pansy ranted.

Well, then. That cleared up the question that she might be just a tad bit upset with him as well. Dumbass? Interesting. He hadn't been called one in a few years. He gave her a small smile and turned his attention to Malfoy and Hermione.

"Oh, screw off," Malfoy was telling Hermione. Harry felt his blood boil for a second but calmed down when he heard that the words between them were not sweet-nothings or any other thing that resembled romance in the slightest. Good. He breathed a sigh of relief and listened more closely.

"Why don't you screw off?" Hermione snapped back. "Oh, right, you can't, because you need me!"

 "I do not need you!" Malfoy roared. Harry chuckled. Already his day was getting better. Go, Hermione, he rooted silently.

"Just let it go, Hermione! Damn it, it's over! What happened, happened and we can't go back just because you have a conscience! Kill it!" Harry's good mood evaporated as he heard Malfoy's words. It's over? What happened, happened? Conscience? Those did not sound… maybe Pansy was… Hermione…having sex....Malf—no, Harry told himself. Mustn't go there. That direction led to bad, bad thoughts that Harry was much unprepared to have.

"You bastard," Hermione snarled. "How dare you talk like that! You were upset too and you know it! In fact I think it cut you rather deeply, didn't it!"

"It did not," Malfoy said, all anger replaced by a frosty ice. "I was happy."

Harry moaned but Pansy clamped a hand over his mouth. "Shut up, Harry," she chided. "Cor, I need to know what happens. And you do too."

Harry nodded miserably and tried to listen to the conversation without passing out.

"You were not happy," Hermione was saying. "I think you were guilty! Hah! Guilty, guilty, guilty!"

"SHUT UP, GRANGER! DON'T YOU DARE SUGGEST THAT I WOULD BE GUILTY OVER SUCH A THING! I DO STUFF LIKE THIS ALL THE TIME!"

Both Harry and Pansy's eyes widened. Perhaps this went just a bit deeper than they had originally thought.

"Fine then. Admit you didn't give a shit when the two of them looked so miserable you could knock them over with a sugar quill," Hermione said resolutely.

Two of them? Harry wondered. What was this?

"I… did not," he said, but he looked miserable. "Whatever, Potter and Parkinson are over now, okay? Can we just go back to our lives like the way they were before this whole mess? We finished up, and they're not together," Malfoy said haughtily.

Harry felt Pansy tense up next to him. He rather felt the same way himself. Were they saying what he thought they were saying? They were the ones behind the pictures? They had been trying to break them up, and had sex in the process? Fuck! Hermione was in so much trouble… and Malfoy, oh, Malfoy was going to wish he never existed when Harry was through with him…

"Potter," Pansy said, the disbelief making her voice sound very hollow. "I cannot believe this. Draco cheated… quite blatantly!"

Harry looked at her with resignation. "Don't tell me… there's more to this story."

Pansy sighed. "I'll tell you in a bit, alright? Let's just listen to what they're saying right now, and then we'll figure out where to go from here."

"Draco," Hermione said slowly, "this is like the fiftieth time you said that. Are you regretting something? Wanting to say something else? It's okay if you fancy Harry—it's okay to be gay, you know."

Harry wanted to retch, but unfortunately, in his current situation, really could not.

"Very funny," Malfoy responded dryly. "If I were gay, I wouldn't like women, Hermione."

Harry wanted to punch him, but unfortunately, in his current situation, really could not. Ah, damn Malfoy, implying he was feminine!

Hermione giggled. "That was actually a good one," she said approvingly. "Get it from Crabbe?"

And so the banter continued. Okay, Harry thought furiously. They were obviously not enemies anymore. They fucking slept together, didn't they! Maybe they fancied each other. Disgusting. And what was this about Pansy? He turned to her, looking savage.

"Tell me what you meant earlier," he said coldly.

Pansy looked unhappy but launched into what turned out to be a long tale. When she finished, Harry looked cynical. "Nothing ever works out for me," he said sullenly. "I can't believe I was a bet with Malfoy."

Pansy shook her head. "Don't you get it? I called the bet off! Because I really liked you!"

"Whatever, Pansy," Harry stated dolefully. "I don't think it will ever work out between us… but you know what?"

Pansy looked downcast. "What?"

"We can definitely pay Malfoy and Hermione back. The two conspiring little… aw, bugger, I can't curse at Hermione! But Malfoy's… I don't even have the words to explain it! I just want to cut his balls off, damn it!"

"Hold on there," Pansy said calmly, "you're not thinking straight. Plus, I have a very good way to pay them back."

"What?" Harry asked doubtfully.

Pansy grinned. "They obviously want to get over each other. They obviously are mad at each other? What do you propose we do?"

Harry grinned, and then finished Pansy's sentence. "We set them up," he breathed. "We set them up."

A/N: The twist! Anyhow, I try and try to get over insane writer's block, but the creative juices in me have been drained, it seems. Tell me how you thought the chapter was, and please review, I love feedback and it really helps with writer's block, especially!