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"That arrogant, insufferable, bleach blond prat! Just wait till I find him. Too good for the rules I suppose. Damn him; he made up most of them. Inbred, snobby metrosexual." Pansy's diatribe tumbled off into low muttering. She had been like this for several hours now.

Blaise sat in a corner trying frantically to remember the spell of disillusionment so that he could leave the common room. He looked at the violet silk handkerchief that Pansy was currently shredding. If that was what she was planning for Draco, the poor bloke didn't have a chance. Blaise felt that it was his duty to warn his friend and fellow male that it might be a good idea to find somewhere else to sleep for a few months until Pansy's rage subsided enough that Draco would be relatively safe. Unfortunately, Blaise had not yet devised a way to escape without drawing Pansy's notice. A wiggling mass of green jelly on the common room rug that had once been a fourth year was all the warning Blaise needed to stay out of Pansy's range.

At that moment however, Draco entered the room. He glanced at the blob on the floor and muttered at it. The fourth year emerged, covered in green gelatinous material and terrified, but otherwise all right. She seemed to be a bit dazed however, and was still quivering, resembling the glob she had so recently been. Draco looked around and spotted Blaise.

"Blaise, take her to the hospital wing will you. There are often nasty side effects to Pansy's curses. Especially when she's in a foul mood."

Draco seemed perfectly calm and not at all frightened. He was even presenting his back to Pansy. Blaise shook his head in admiration. Crazy wanker. He certainly had some balls. Dragging the trembling fourth year with him, Blaise made his getaway, fervently hoping that there would be enough of Draco left to salvage when Pansy was through with him.

Pansy was a little stunned by Draco's entrance. He hadn't been this much in control in months. In fact, she hadn't seen him this calm for a long time. However, it wasn't enough to make her forget her anger with him.

"So, are you happy with yourself? You've broken your own rules Drake. You know what that means." Pansy advanced upon her best friend, wand drawn. He didn't flinch.

"Give me the punishment Pansy. It's worth it." Draco smirked at her. Somehow that smirk was even more irritating than usual. She realized that his acceptance of the punishment made it infinitely less satisfying. He expected her to punish him damn it! He was indulging her like she was a whiny brat. Pansy lowered her wand and smiled sweetly.

"Fine Draco. I shall simply carry out my own conquest. By the time I finish with him, you will probably have remembered why we came up with the rules in the first place. By nature, you can't trust her. You will always be suspicious. She will bring out your weaknesses Draco. And when you become bored with her, you won't be able to move on. You'll be caught in a trap of your own devising. A trap the Gryffindorks prize highly. You yourself said that love is for those unintelligent enough to believe in such fairy tales. Then you'll come crawling back to me, asking me to help you. And you know what Draco? I will, but you will regret asking me for it for the rest of your days."

There was enough doubt in Draco's eyes for Pansy to know that she had hit upon a few sore spots, but it didn't linger long enough to suit Pansy's desire for vengeance. Draco recovered that air of complete surety he had when he first walked into the room. He simply shook his head at her and walked past her to the stairs that led down to the Slytherin sleeping quarters. Pansy watched him closely. Had he seen her expression, he might have been more wary. At the top of the stairs, he tripped over nothing. Pansy listened to him roll down the stairs with satisfaction. She knew that his quick reflexes would save him from the worst damage, but the muffled swearing when he reached the bottom and fell into a pit of mud that suddenly appeared was certainly gratifying.

It was Pansy's move again. They had been at this all month, and Pansy was more and more impressed with Ron Weasley's ability to play the game. He was presenting more of a challenge then any opponent she had faced thus far. She had so far avoided tactics such as appearing anywhere naked before him—she liked subtlety in her games. Draco had been the one who often would simply cut to the chase and seduce a girl without much foreplay. Pansy snickered, but then frowned.

Draco. Damn bastard.

He was still fawning over the Weaselette. What was truly irritating is that instead of displaying weaknesses, Draco actually seemed to have acquired a relaxed self-assurance he had never before possessed. He had always been a bit high-strung, like a very fine well-bred, spoiled race horse. However, as he spent more time with that red headed chit, and by proxy with other They-Shall-Remain-Unnamed Gryffindors, he seemed to settle down. She had even seen him cautiously joking with Potter of all people. She growled, but was forced to give up her contemplation when her target came into sight. This spell should have an interesting reaction.

Grinning wickedly, Pansy whispered "Asotus Odus."

Weasley didn't react immediately, but that was to be expected. Men didn't have as developed a sense of smell as females. It took a moment for him to slow down and start to look around. He began to take deep breaths, breathing in the intoxicating scent around him. He looked around again, this time with a frown of concentration on his face. Then a strange look came into his eyes—something compounded of horror, embarrassment, and modicum of amusement. He saluted, probably knowing Pansy was hiding somewhere she could watch her spell take effect, conceding her victory for now. Then he quickly, but awkwardly, headed for the loo.

Pansy simpered. Her face was flushed with triumph, her hair, still currently black, curling around her face and hanging free down her back. Had she known it, a passing fifth year from Hufflepuff was staring at her trying to decide whether he should be terrified or turned on. Pansy had that effect.

Fortunately for the fifth year, she didn't even notice him. She was too busy congratulating herself on the ridiculously complicated spell she had just cast on Weasley. It had taken her almost a week to figure out how to cobble together what she wanted, but Pansy was one of the most talented witches when it came to hexes. It was a rather brilliant piece of work. Weasley would be haunted by Pansy's scent for the next three days. It would follow him wherever he went. He was familiar with it. A touch of lavender with a hint of chocolate. He had commented on it during one of their brief verbal sparring contests. She enjoyed those immensely. It was like rather aggressively competitive flirting. She had known because of his comment that he would know immediately what he smelled. Of course, he probably wouldn't realize right away that Pansy had included an inordinate amount of pheromones in her spell. Pansy knew that the scent of her surrounding him would force him to think of her while he dealt with the pressing effects of the pheromones. One step closer to victory.

Pansy suddenly paused in her self congratulatory consideration. She sniffed. Ginger and a light smell of soap met her olfactory senses. Weasley…she looked around.

What the hell? Had Weasley already turned the tables on her? That was impossible. He wasn't in the hallway, and he couldn't possibly have picked up the variant of the spell she had cast. Nevertheless, she could already feel the spell working on her. Her eyes widened. Her lips became parched and she licked them, trying to fight the effects. The fifth year Hufflepuff fainted. Pansy didn't even notice. She was too busy fighting the images her creative and vivid imagination was providing

…Strong freckled arms…pale skin…warm blue eyes…red hair she wanted to tangle her fingers in…

"Bloody hell!"

Pansy ran all the way back to the Slytherin dungeons and the solitude of her curtained bed. Millicent watched from her bed, where she was reading. When Pansy cast silencing spells and imperturbables, Millicent shook her head. Pansy was incorrigible. It was the middle of the afternoon!

From the alcove behind the statue of Erose the Eager near where Pansy had been hiding came a snickering sound and a hiccup.

Ron washed his face again and glanced at himself in the mirror. He had to hand it to Pansy—she certainly knew how to get a guy's attention. However, she didn't know just what an effect this was going to have on him. Despite his best efforts, he was actually really beginning to like Pansy. She was witty and clever rather than overly intellectual like some people he knew. Also, she was beautiful. He wondered how he had missed that. Her nose still turned up at the end, but he found it rather endearing—and it helped her beauty to be human rather than too perfect. He enjoyed this battle of wills. It was like a game of chess being played by two masters. Ron hadn't known just how devious he could be until he began playing this game. He also picked up some idea of what Pansy was like from Malfoy, who often talked about her. The git missed her being around, since it seemed she was his best friend and they were arguing.

He grinned and shook his head at his reflection, wondering how long this spell would last this time. He seemed to spend way too much time in the bathroom and unused corridors and classrooms. Ron hadn't had any idea that there were so many until he had reason to use them. Would this end up going well, or would it be a tragedy? He sighed and groaned in frustration.

The scent drifted around him again. Ron's groan turned into a moan.

"I am so fucked."

Myrtle tsked from a corner as Ron slammed the door to the stall in the corner. She smiled wickedly at the sounds she heard however, and went on her way to report the progress to a certain rather mad house elf who had enlisted her help.