Disclaimer: see part 1.
Beautiful Poison
By Random1377
Chapter 4 – Liquid Time
Harry blinked… and two months were gone. It was amazing, he thought as he headed out to quidditch practice, how easy it was to fall into a routine when no one was trying to kill you. He had made sure to maintain contact with the Order of the Phoenix to see how the unseen battle with Voldemort was going, but since his reappearance, and the fight in the Ministry of Magic, there had not been a peep.
Everyone in the Order was sure that the Dark Lord was quietly gathering his forces and waiting for an opportune moment to strike, but so far, they had not been able to ferret him out, a fact that made Tonks, at least, exceedingly annoyed.
"It's like going to the dentist," she had confided to Harry through the Floo system one rainy afternoon. "You know it's coming, you know it's going to hurt, and after a while you just want him to get on with it… but then he makes you sit there in the waiting room and stew, helpless, until he feels like coming to get you."
Harry's response fell somewhere along the lines of 'sounds like the story of my life,' which had earned him a deep chuckle from the currently-lavender haired woman, but it was very true. Harry was quite familiar with powerlessness, and he often wandered if the members of the Order deliberately kept him in the dark about what was really happening.
Tonks wouldn't, he did not think. For reasons he could not explain, Harry trusted Tonks.
Maybe just a bit past trust? he thought as he made his way onto the quidditch pitch, his Firebolt slung casually over his shoulder. She's pretty – even when she's not changing herself around. If she wasn't-
"Potter," Katie Bell called, drawing him from his musings, "you're late!"
"Sorry," Harry called, "for a moment I thought it was last year and I was still banned."
Katie made a face. "Don't even joke," she grumbled, "Malfoy's been practicing, Potter… he actually got close to the Snitch last game – don't even joke about not being able to play, we need everyone at a hundred percent."
"Lay off, Bell," Ron said, swooping down to hover at Harry's side, "you're starting to sound like Wood."
Before Harry could warn Ron, Katie reached out and deftly clouted him in the side of the head, nearly knocking him off his broom. "At least Wood knew a bit about Keeping," she said darkly, "I've half a mind to see if anyone in Gryffindor would be interested in the position – and yes, that is a threat!"
Grumbling that she wouldn't dare, Ron nonetheless zoomed off towards the goals, rubbing ruefully at his wounded temple.
Harry brought his broom around and mounted it, shaking his head as he searched for the Snitch, which Katie always released before his arrival, just to make things 'more interesting.'
"I'm not, am I?"
"Hmm?"
Harry glanced at Katie, finding her staring after Ron with a concerned look on her normally composed face. "I'm not… sounding like Wood… right?"
Grasping his broom, Harry murmured, "Sometimes… but you're never as bad as he was."
This seemed to relieve Katie. "Thanks, Potter."
Nodding, Harry shot into the air, smiling as he saw a hint of gold glittering on the edge of the field. Better not catch it TOO fast, he mused, Katie would just make me release it and find it again… I'll just keep track of it.
Circling the pitch as if he had no idea where the Snitch was, Harry found his thoughts turning to Pansy. She had advanced – painstakingly – in defense against the dark arts, but the new teacher, Professor Phoebus Septillion, was not very patient with her. He was a good teacher, and they actually LEARNED things in his class, but he had somewhat of a short temper, especially for Slytherins.
He was to Slytherin students, Hermione had pointed out one day, what Snape was to Gryffindor.
She's probably in his class right now, Harry thought dismally, which means that the next time we go to practice… she's going to be all bent out of… damn it!
Glancing around, he heaved a huge sigh.
He had lost the Snitch.
( 0 0 0 )
As Harry was cursing himself for letting the Snitch out of his sight, Pansy was cradling her head in her hands and cursing HERself for ever even thinking she could get a passing grade in Septillion's class.
"No, no, no," the crusty old man was saying impatiently, "Expacto PetroNUM! It's a Patronus spell, but the incantation is Petronum – it isn't that difficult!"
"I don't have that many happy thoughts, ok?" the girl exploded. "God, I hate this! Magic isn't supposed to be this hard!"
"Magic is what you make of it," Septillion said coolly, "now… again."
"Grr!"
"Danger to a person's wellbeing can often cloud that person's judgment, making them do things they would not do under normal circumstances," Septillion lectured. "My job is to make sure that you have the mental fortitude to keep your wits about you and ensure that you live to tell the tail."
Pansy barely refrained from mouthing this speech along with the old man. She knew it by heart.
It was one of his favorites, and he never deviated a single word or tone in its presentation.
"Now," Septillion said briskly, "A Patronus if you please."
"Yes, sir," Pansy said through grinding teeth, raising her wand and pointing it up at the ceiling.
In the Room of Requirement, it was much easier to keep her cool. Harry's just a better teacher, she thought, focusing on the smiling face of the Boy who Lived, ten times better than this old codger.
"Expacto PETRONUM!"
Septillion smirked. "Progress," he said smugly, gesturing to the faint, silver haze in the air directly in front of Pansy's wand. "Be seated, Miss Parkinson."
"Y-yeah," Pansy stammered, staring at her wand with a small smile as she wandered over to her desk.
Progress, she thought, yeah, but not from you, dumbass.
In spite of this small victory, the rest of class passed in agonizing slowness, delivering Pansy into the hustle and bustle of late afternoon feeling as if she had been up all night. There was no getting around it – Septillion was a lousy, no good prick.
"Parkinson!"
…but at least he was better than McGonagall.
"Yes, professor?" Pansy replied as she was confronted by the Irishwoman in the main hall.
Professor McGonagall looked annoyed… but then again, she always looked annoyed when dealing with Slytherin students, so Pansy was not too put out. "Your Transfiguration homework is overdue," she said sharply, "and while I know mine is not your favorite class, I would assume that you still want a passing grade."
Pansy, as any of her friends could tell you, was a survivor… and a member of Slytherin House, as well, so she had developed somewhat of a knack for getting out of sticky situations.
Besides which, she had no problem manipulating people she felt were threatening her to get what she wanted.
"Oh that's right!" she groaned, turning on the charm as best she could, "I'm sorry professor – I was so busy helping Harry Potter with his potions that I completely-"
"Potter?" McGonagall cut in suspiciously, "You should know, Miss Parkinson, that I do not approve of lying."
Wielding the woman's disbelief like a scalpel, Pansy widened her eyes. "Please don't tell him I told you," she said breathlessly, "it was supposed to be a secret!"
McGonagall's nostril's flared. "Now why on Earth would Harry Potter need your help, Parkinson? I'll admit he's not got the best Potions marks, but he's still a fine wizard. I'll give you one more chance to tell me the truth before I start lowering your grade – and taking points from Slytherin!"
Pansy sighed, going in for the coup de grace.
"I should have known you wouldn't believe me, professor," she said miserably. "Harry said you wouldn't – that's why it was such a big secret, because he said people wouldn't believe it if I told them, and if they did, they would think I was after something, and he didn't want things to be too hard for me." Running a hand through her hair, she averted her eyes. "He's a good person that way." Shifting from one foot to the other, she concluded, "I'll have the homework by the end of the day… please don't tell Harry I told you about our secret, ok? He'd be… disappointed in me…"
As she turned to go, McGonagall said, "Just a moment."
Pansy glanced over her shoulder. "Yes, professor?"
"You're good with potions you say," McGonagall said coolly, "do you know what Veritserium is?"
"Of course," Pansy said simply, "I've made it… and before you ask, yes, I would take some right this minute, if you'd like."
McGonagall reached into her pocket and took out a small vial, holding it out to Pansy without a sound. When the Slytherin shrugged and reached for it, McGonagall closed her hand around it and slipped it back into her robes. "I don't think that will be necessary," she said, eyeing Pansy consideringly over the edge of her glasses. "You really would have taken it."
It was not a question, but Pansy still nodded. "Of course," she said evenly, "I'm telling the truth."
Just not all of it, she added, watching McGonagall's eyes as she considered her next move. Sorry, Potter… I couldn't afford to have ANOTHER teacher breathing down my neck – and she won't tell anyone, except maybe you… and you can I deal with.
Keeping her smile in, she waited for the teacher to decide what to do with her.
"It wouldn't have done anything anyway," McGonagall said finally, patting her robe pocket as she gave Pansy a grim smile, "it's muggle nail polish I confiscated from a first year – dreadful smelling stuff… can't stand it."
Pansy risked a tentative smile. "I do have my homework up in my dorm," she said, calculating who she could copy notes from, and how fast, "I can go get it, if you'll let me."
McGonagall waved a hand. "I'll give you until the morning, Parkinson," she said, her tone all business as her smile faded away, "though I will be keeping my eye on you… and if I find that you've lied to me, there will be repercussions."
"There won't be," Pansy said levelly.
The professor, Pansy thought, looked a little impressed… though it was now starting to be colored with suspicion as the mental question of 'what is she after' started to surface.
Before it could come to the fore, Pansy capitalized on the teacher's uncertainty.
"Is there anything else, professor? I'm going to be late for Divination."
"Er, no, no…" McGonagall said, "go ahead, Parkinson… and don't worry – your secret is safe with me."
"Thank you, professor."
Walking away, Pansy could no longer contain her triumphant smile.
Well that went quite well, she thought, trying to decide if she should tell Harry about the encounter or not. Ultimately, she decided that he did not need to know. McGonagall would not say anything about it, and it would just make Harry jumpier than he needed to be.
Time was running out for Pansy to get a good grade… and she would be damned if she blew it all by making her 'teacher' too edgy to teach.
( 0 0 0 )
Harry yawned, slowly collapsing his telescope as the rest of the students made their way down from the astronomy tower. It was late, but there was a comet shower that night, so the teacher had made them stay to see it. It was very pretty, but Harry was tired from Quidditch practice.
Yawning a second time, he caught sight of Hedwig fluttering in for a landing on the stone parapet. "You must love this time of night," he said, holding out his arm for the owl to hop onto. "Who's this from, then?"
Taking the small note from Hedwig, Harry unrolled it to find Hagrid's familiar scrawl.
Drop by fer tea sometime.
Hagrid
"That's a nice owl."
Harry jumped, wheeling around to find Pansy strolling over to him. "Oh, hey," he said, trying not to show how much she'd surprised him, "I didn't see you there."
"I know," Pansy drawled, "I had to wait until everyone else had gone before climbing up."
Frowning slightly, Harry said, "Is something wrong?"
"Nope," Pansy said impishly, "everything's great – I did it."
"Er… did what?"
"A Patronus" she said proudly, "right in front of Septillion, too!"
Harry found her glee infectious. "Well done!" he said happily. "How did it look?"
Shrugging, Pansy dropped her bookbag and looked up at the sky. "It wasn't spectacular," she said evenly, "barely there, really – but it got Septillion off my back. Thanks."
"I didn't do anything," Harry chuckled, stroking Hedwig's feathers.
"You taught me how," Pansy said simply, "don't be so modest."
Blushing faintly at the praise, Harry flung Hedwig into the air. "So," he said, changing the subject, "do you keep a pet?"
"Mm hm," Pansy replied, "do you want to see her?"
"Sure."
"Alright then."
Harry watched curiously as Pansy reached into her bookbag and pulled out a heavy leather glove and a small, copper whistle.
Tugging the glove on, Pansy said, "You may want to step back a pace… she's got a big wingspan, and she doesn't really care for strangers."
She tucked the whistle into her mouth and gave it a blow, but Harry did not hear a single sound. They waited for a moment, with Harry anticipating the appearance of another owl, or perhaps a majestic eagle or falcon. He nearly gasped, of course, as a huge, black shape winged out of the darkness, coming into land on Pansy's outstretched arm, and immediately flipping over to hang upside down, sticking its face under one large, leathery wing to groom itself.
"I know she's not pretty," Pansy said quietly, stroking the bat's furry back with her forefinger, "but she's about the only thing that's really mine in this world, and we get on ok."
"What, umm… species is she?" Harry asked lamely, not knowing what else to say.
He recoiled as the bat pulled its head out from under its wing, its sharp, black eyes fixing on him as its flat, sharply peaked nose scented the air in his direction.
"Desmodus rotundus," Pansy said succinctly. "Her name is Bertha."
"Bertha?" Harry echoed, thinking this a rather odd name for such a cruel looking animal.
"My sister named her when she gave her to me," Pansy explained, tucking the whistle back into her pocket.
Grasping this topic like a lifeline, Harry blurted, "I didn't know you had a sister."
Pansy made a face. "I don't really like to talk about her," she said distastefully.
"Is she… a better witch, or something?" Harry ventured, vividly remembering Ron's envy for his brothers.
This made Pansy laugh out loud. "H-hardly," she chuckled, "Lily is almost a squib she's so bad at magic, and she hasn't an ounce of ambition in her," Pansy's expression darkened, "she was a Hufflepuff for Heaven's sake – barely even graduated. She's a secretary now at some office that deals with wizard and muggle interaction cleanups or some such, but before she left home, she gave me Bertha as a birthday present."
Harry nodded, fighting the wave of nostalgia at the mention of the name Lily.
His mother's name had been Lily.
Mistaking his quiet for disgust, Pansy frowned. "I know she doesn't look like much," she said lightly, "but she's loyal – more loyal than most owls. Not everything that looks evil, is, Potter…"
"I never said that," Harry cried, "I-"
"Better be running along now," Pansy said coolly, "it's feeding time…"
Turning slightly green, Harry stammered, "S-see you," and hurriedly gathered up his belongings. As he pulled the trapdoor open, however, Pansy spoke one last time.
"Thank you for helping me, Potter. We'll work on gathering potion ingredients tomorrow, alright?"
Glancing towards her, Harry found the girl's back to him. "Sure," he said quietly, trying to pretend that he could not imagine what Bertha was doing to Pansy's other hand – currently blocked by her body – and wondering if he had ever heard her voice this quiet.
"See ya."
"'Night."
Harry continued to stare at the Slytherin for several minutes, as if hoping enough study might somehow reveal her true motivations. There was more at stake with the girl than a simple grade – Harry knew that – but damned if he could understand what. With a sigh, he climbed down the ladder and gently closed the trapdoor, not wanting to interrupt Bertha's 'meal.'
He dreamt of owls and bats all night.
Continued…
Author's Notes: I was gonna have a whole discussion between Harry and Pansy about how owls and bats are both cruel night hunters, but owls are considered majestic and bats are considered gruesome and evil, and then have it observed that Pansy's like a bat and Harry's an owl… etc…etc… etc… but in the end I decided it would be better to simplify things and say that Bertha is the only thing Pansy really trusts, and even that's a little shaky. I DID have some deep thoughts about bats and owls, though, I really did! Really…
SxStrngSamurai skimmed this chapter for me and made sure it didn't COMPLETELY suck. Thanks man.
Feedback is always welcome on any site with reviewing capabilities, or by e-mailing me directly at random1377(at-sign)yahoo(dot)com.