Disclaimer: see part 1.

Beautiful Poison

By Random1377

Chapter 2 – Strange Bedfellows

Harry scrubbed his free hand through his unruly hair, waiting impatiently for Hermoine's reply. He had decided to tell the witch of his 'little problem,' as he liked to look at it, because he trusted her not to tell Ron. Ron, he was sure, would lose his mind. He hated Slytherins with a passion that was almost unhealthy – a dislike fueled, no doubt, by Malfoy's constant taunting and cajoling of Ron's entire family tree.

One day, Harry was sure, their argument would come to serious blows… and someone was likely to get very hurt. He did not really mind if that someone was Malfoy, of course, but Ron was his friend.

"Well," Hermoine said finally, "you did the right thing in telling me."

"So you can take it off?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermoine mumbled, not looking up from Harry's hand, "only the person that cast it can take it off – or a very, very skilled wizard. Dumbledore might be able to do it… but I don't think it would be a good idea to bother him."

Harry thought of the events of the previous semester, closing his eyes and letting out a tired sigh as he thought of Sirius. "Yeah," he whispered, "probably not."

Hemoine pursed her lips. "I hate to say it," she said, releasing Harry's hand and leaning back in her chair, "but it's a pretty well-crafted curse. I had to put it on paper, myself… being able to have it resting in your skin is pretty advanced. Don't take this the wrong way, Harry, but as skilled as she is with this, she shouldn't have trouble learning anything – especially anything related to dark arts. She must have an ulterior motive."

"I know that," Harry said with mild annoyance, "I'm not entirely daft, you know."

"Mm… sometimes I wonder."

"What was that?"

"Harry," Hermoine said earnestly, "my mother says the best way to learn something is to teach others… so you doing this will be beneficial, especially if Pansy keeps up her end of the deal and teaches you potions…"

"But?" Harry promoted, sensing that the witch had more to say.

"But watch her," the young girl said softly, "never forget what house she's in, Harry. My guess is that she'll try to get close to you, and pretend that she's just the same as any other girl in Hogwarts. Don't fall for it."

Harry rubbed his temples. "I know, I know," he said tiredly, "alright, so… teach her?"

Shrugging, Hermoine picked up a thick textbook. "You did make a deal, Harry," she said simply. "From what you've told me, she didn't threaten to hurt you if you said no, did she?"

"Well, no…"

"Then you had every opportunity to refuse… right?"

"…right."

There was a long silence, broken when Hermoine finally whispered, "Then yes, you teach her – you teach her and you show her what our house is all about, Harry. She tricked you by putting a binding curse on you, so you show her that you're the better person by upholding your end of the deal." Abruptly, Hermoine winked. "And if she does try anything shifty, you just tell me and I'll find a way to break that curse."

Harry shifted in his seat, uneasy with the gleam in Hermoine's eye. "I thought you said you couldn't lift it," he said nervously.

"I can't," Hermoine said simply, "but if it comes to it… I'm sure I can learn. It wouldn't be easy, Harry, that's why I can't do it now…but after mid-terms, or finals? When I don't have anything else on my mind? …I know I could find a way."

Somehow, Harry got the feeling that Hermoine was hoping things would go bad. What some people won't do for a challenge…

Pretending that he did not believe his friend would want him in trouble just to test her abilities, Harry got to his feet. "I guess I should go," he said reluctantly, "I'm supposed to meet Pansy after her Divination class to arrange a schedule."

"She takes Divination?" Hermoine asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste, "On purpose? …that explains a lot."

Harry chuckled. "See ya."

"Harry."

"Hmm?"

"Remember what I said."

"I will."

Tipping Hermoine a salute, Harry strode off towards the tower where Divination was held. He disliked the class, personally, and had decided not to take it in his sixth year, but he knew from personal experience that the teacher, professor Trelawney, did have 'the gift' as she liked to call it.

Two years prior, she had made a prediction that Lord Voldemort would return… she had proven to be right.

"And nothing for over half a year," Harry muttered to himself as he took the stairs two at a time. "What is he planning…?"

As he reached the top of the stairs, thoughts of The Dark One were forgotten as he found Pansy leaning up against the hard stone wall just to the left of the stairs. Her face was set in a mask of forced patience as she turned to face him.

"You're late."

Harry glanced at his watch. "No I'm not," he protested, "you said to come get you after Divination!"

Pansy ground her teeth. "I said come get me a few minutes before Divination ends," she muttered, "let's find an empty room to talk – people are going to see us if we hang around here."

Frowning, Harry wondered, "So?"

"So," Pansy snapped, grabbing his upper arm and hustling him off down the hall, "people will ask questions… and I don't want to explain to a bunch of my friends why I'm hanging out with you."

Harry, who was used to being admired by most (when he was not being ostracized by everyone in the school as a loony or potential murderer, of course) muttered, "You Sytherins must really hate me."

"It's not just us," Pansy informed him bluntly, "and it's not 'hate' …well, not for all of us, anyway."

"What do you mean?" Harry wanted to know, frowning as she practically shoved him into an empty classroom.

To his knowledge, the other houses had no gripes with him – just Slytherin.

He was in for a rude awakening.

"A lot of people think you're a stuck-up, pompous, swaggering know-it-all," Pansy shrugged. "They say Harry Potter is too good to be friends with anyone outside of his own house – especially after you broke up with that Ravenclaw girl at Hogsm-"

"I didn't break up with Cho!" Harry cut in incredulously, "I wasn't even really dating her!"

Pansy smiled smugly. "Because she wasn't good enough?"

"No!" Harry snapped, feeling irritated. "With Cho… why am I explaining this to you? It's none of your business why we were or weren't together – but I did not break up with her!"

"If you say so."

Now it was Harry's turn to grind his teeth. "Schedule," he bit out, "what's your schedule, and where should we meet?"

As Pansy reached into her robes to pull out her class schedule, Harry tried to calm down. Who cares what other people think? he thought desperately, No, wait – why am I believing her? Sure, I'll bet some people don't like me that much, especially after what happened with Cedric during the Triwizard Tournament… even though that wasn't really my fault – but I don't believe anyone HATES me! If they did, I'd know! Hermoine would tell me, or Ron would – or they'd tell me themselves! I-

"Here," Pansy said finally, pulling out a scrap of paper and offering it to the boy. "Where's yours?"

"Memorized it already," Harry muttered, taking Pansy's schedule and noticing again how rough her hands felt.

Pansy frowned as she caught him glancing at her hand. "If you're that curious," she whispered coldly, "here – look all you like."

Harry blushed as she held her hands out, palms up, to reveal coarse, calloused skin, covered in a crisscross of old, silvery scars. "What, umm… what happened?" he asked softly, wondering why – if she was so good at potions – she had never bothered to use one on any of the shallow, but long scrapes on her hands.

"You live with Muggles, right?"

Taken off guard by this question, Harry said, "Well, yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?"

Pansy leaned against an old, oak bookcase, folding her arms over her chest – a stance, Harry realized suddenly, he had seen her in many times before… a stance that easily hid the palms of her hands. "You're not allowed to use magic when Muggles are around, right?"

"No," Harry confirmed, wondering where all this was going.

Slowly, Pansy thrust her hands out at him again. "In my family," she said flatly, "we are not allowed to use magic until we get accepted into school, so we are made to do everything by hand – housework, fieldwork, homework… any work. You would be surprised how many chores a parent can think up for an idle child, Potter, and it would probably stun you to learn the punishment for a bad grade or a spilled bucket of water."

Harry looked again at the crisscross scars, then quickly turned his head. "I never had parents," he pointed out, "I-"

"Count yourself lucky," Pansy cut in coolly. "Everyone knows your past, Potter – don't try to trump my pain with yours, because you wouldn't last one day in my house… not one, single day."

Bowing his head over the class schedule, Harry whispered, "So, umm… Thursday evenings look good…"

Frustrated that the boy had disengaged from the argument, Pansy lashed out, kicking the bookcase hard with the side of her foot and grimacing as pain shot up her leg. "Thursdays are fine," she hissed, refusing to rub her injury and show the Boy Who Lived any sign of weakness, "how about Tuesdays, too?"

"That's fine for me, as long as it's later in the day."

"So, night classes," Pansy mused. "I've got music lessons on Tuesdays, so it'll have to be later – so that works out, I guess."

Harry looked around the room. "This place seems ok," he said thoughtfully, "though maybe someplace more secluded… I'll have to think about it. Hmm."

Pansy glanced at her watch. "Let's start now."

"Right now?"

"Yeah, I've got a few minutes – and a lot of this is going to have to be whenever we get time, you know… I doubt an hour here and there is really going to teach either of us anything, so we'll have to get as much time in as we can."

Great, Harry thought dismally, handing Pansy her class schedule and reaching into his robes to pull out his wand, as much time with a Slytherin as I can get? I can hardly wait.

Wisely, he bit his lip… but he shook himself as he suddenly realized that he was starting to get eager.

Teaching the others had been more exciting than he wanted to admit, so he was definitely ready to see if he could teach Pansy – more so because she was from another house and it would be a challenge to see if he could actually do it without one of them killing the other.

I'm more like Hermoine than I thought, he mused, taking a step back from Pansy to give her more room. And if Pansy can get me through Potions this term, I might not have to take it next year at all!

Oh the bliss of having a Snape-free year!

"Alright," Harry said, gesturing for Pansy to pull out her wand, "why don't we start by finding out what you know so far?"

Pansy grinned… and with a flick of the wrist, her wand dropped into her palm. It was pointing at Harry before he could blink, and in a loud voice, Pansy cried, "Expelliarmus"

Harry tried to hold his wand, but it shot from his fingers before he could get a firm grip on it, tumbling end over end to land with a clatter at Pansy's feet.

"How's that?"

Gritting his teeth, Harry walked over and leaned down to scoop up his wand. "I really meant tell me what you know," he grumbled.

"Teach me something," Pansy said impatiently, "if I already know it, I'll stop you – but I've got to get to my next class, so let's hurry up."

Harry sighed. "Fine," he murmured. "I learned this one over summer break." Taking a few steps back, he raised his wand. "Alright, I'm ready."

"Ready for what?" Pansy wondered. "Go ahead."

"It's a defense spell," Harry huffed, "attack me."

Pansy grinned… and thrust her hand forward, shouting, "Flipendo!"

This time, Harry was prepared for the attack. Planting his feet, he called out, "Defractous!"

The bolt of magic from Pansy's wand collided with an invisible wall several inches from Harry's chest, splitting into a handful of smaller bolts and splashing against the walls and bookcases behind him.

"Wicked…" Pansy breathed, her eyes wide as Harry glanced over his shoulder to see if anything was damaged. "Where did you learn that?"

"A friend of mine taught me," Harry half-lied.

Pansy, he reasoned, did not need to know that Ron's father – a member of the ministry of magic – had taken him aside to teach him a few more defensive maneuvers. The Slytherin girl would definitely see this as special treatment.

"I want to know that one," Pansy declared, checking her watch, "Tomorrow's Tuesday, so let's meet here again at eight."

Harry was frowning as he looked over his shoulder, noticing that the defracted spell had knocked over several small desks and turned a floor lamp entirely upside down.

"Yeah, eight's ok," he said, shaking his head as he turned back to look at her, "but this room won't do – too many things could get broken."

"Ok," Pansy said, clearly irritated, "then where should we go? The main hall?"

Slowly, a smile spread across Harry's face. "No," he said carefully, "it has to be somewhere no one and nothing can be hurt…"

"Again, where?" Pansy demanded, starting to lose her patience.

"Meet me here at eight," Harry said briskly, "I have to see about something."

"You have an idea then?"

Harry nodded.

"Oh, I know just the place…"

Continued…

Author's notes: now, I've never claimed to be subtle, so I'm sure everyone knows where they're going. Why not just say it then, you ask? Come on, now – is that something Rowling would do? …yes, I know I'm no Rowling, but hey, if I could make one TENTH of what she does, I would gladly follow in her footsteps. Also, I did consult a web page to find the correct spellings for the jinxes and charms in this chapter (except the one I made up, o'course) but I can't give a direct link to the page due to QuickEdit's shortcomings. The closest I can come is to spell it out. It's www dot pojo dot com slash harrypotter slash spelist dot shtml. Great site.

This chapter was not pre-read.

Feedback is always welcome on any site with reviewing capabilities or by e-mailing me directly at random1377(at-sign)yahoo(dot)com.