Quality or quantity?

(For those reading my other fic, this will only take a few chapies to finish and then I'll be back to that. I'm having some trouble working out how to get to the next plot development anyway, so I figured I may as well get this out of my brain and stop it distracting me. )

A/N: The ongoing food fight in this fic, as well as the title line, are based on a real food fight I had recently at work (I'm a waitress) with a mate. He was, however, only a mate and all the romance is created purely for your enjoyment and has no basis in reality (yes, you can breath again Bry).

In this fic, Pansy and Blaise are portrayed as decent people. My apologies, I wanted to use Fred, but couldn't find a girl that I wanted to star opposite him.

Disclaimer: Pansy and Blaise are the creations of Ms Rowling, I have merely appropriated them for a few days- hopefully they'll enjoy the experience. All other characters also belong to J.K.

Pansy was bored. And she knew who to blame- Hermione Granger.

The girl's ceaseless campaigning about house elf rights had finally fallen on receptive ears- Dumbledore's. He had decided that Granger's arguments had merit and that it was important that the students of Hogwarts should learn empathy as well as transfiguration, charms and potions. The result was that all students fifth year and up were taking turns to work in the kitchens alongside the house elves.

Pansy's partner was Lavender Brown. They were supposed to be working the evening shifts together all this week. Only Brown had gone and sprained her ankle yesterday. Magic could re-grow bones, seamlessly heal cuts and correct grotesquely swollen or discoloured features, but do you think it was possible to fix a simple sprained ankle? So Brown was restricted to the Gryffindor tower for at least a week and Pavarti Patil had to take her their class work. And Pansy had to do her kitchen shifts alone.

If she didn't know better she'd think Brown had done it on purpose.

She hoped that she was being well entertained by Granger.

Granger had offered to do extra kitchen shifts to fill in for Brown, but had been told she would be of more assistance in helping Brown to keep up with her classes. It was one thing to be grateful for- the only thing more boring than being down here alone with the sullen house elves, would be being stuck down here with Hermione Granger.

She stepped back from the carrots she was chopping for dinner and nearly tripped over a house elf. Again. Cursing under her breath- why do they have to be so short?- she turned around to apologize. Her words stopped in her throat as she took in the wobbling tower of knitted hats the creature was wearing. It reached almost to her chin- which wasn't bad considering the house elf wasn't even as tall as her waist. "I-I'm sorry." She stuttered. Why all the hats! "I didn't see you there."

The creature just stared up at her with huge watery green eyes. She began to feel slightly disconcerted. Why won't he talk? At least with the curt and icy courtesy of the other house elves. Why is he just staring? "Are you OK?" she asked hesitantly. Maybe the hats have overheated his brain?

Suddenly he grabbed her legs, making her jump. Wrapping his short arms around her he began to bawl against her robes. He was talking through his sobs and it took her a moment to work out what he was saying. "…just like him…(sob)…thought…(sob)…Master…(sob)…Malfoy's friend…(sob)…would be cruel…(sob)…but she is…(sob)…kind." He doesn't mean I'm Malfoy's friend surely?

At that moment another voice startled her, speaking from right beside her shoulder: "What, no hello for me Dobby?" She turned her head and saw Blaise standing at her side. A brief fluttery feeling filled her stomach before she remembered that she was wearing her oldest robes, which were covered in a number of substances from around the kitchen, and her hair was dragged back in a scraggly knot at her nape.

And she had a sobbing house elf wrapped around her.

Why does he have to come in just now?

"Oh, hi Blaise! Uh, who's Dobby?"

"He's Dobby" he said pointing at the creature clinging to her robes. "I'm not surprised you made him cry, but how come he's hugging you?"

The house elf is Dobby? Well that's a relief. "I didn't do anything to him." Well, except nearly stand on him. "He just grabbed me and started sobbing all over my robes."

He looked at her quizzically. "You didn't- by any remote chance- say something nice to him did you?"

She and Blaise had an ongoing joke making out that they both fit the Slytherin stereotype. It had been a real act before Malfoy had left, but now it was just a laugh between them.

"Well, actually, I did sort of ask him whether he was OK… He was just standing there staring! What was I supposed to say?"

"Get out of my way you ugly, inferior creature? Or do you just reserve that for the men in your life?"

As if I'd ever call Blaise an 'ugly, inferior creature.' "Yes- specifically you. Why would being nice to… Dobby- make him cry?...And why are you down here?"

"I don't know the answer to that first question. He's got a crush on Harry"- doesn't everybody?- "but seems to have a breakdown whenever a student is nice to him. Tough upbringing I guess- isn't that the standard excuse?"

"Huh?"

"You know- muggle reality television?" What is he talking about?

"Guess not. Silly question I suppose. Dobby was the Malfoy's house elf, until Harry set him free. Hasn't got the most balanced of psyches."

Well that explained a lot. She looked at the house elf with fresh eyes. "Oh, you poor thing…Well, if you ever need a favour from a Slytherin- like, maybe, revenge- let me know." Oh god, he's just started snivelling into my robes again. When will I learn? Blaise was looking at her with a raised eyebrow. Crap!- That was such a Slytherin thing to say! "What! Malfoy deserves it!"

"No argument here babe." She loved it when he called her 'babe'.

He smiled devilishly. "I'd even be happy to help. I'm great at revenge."

Dobby spoke in a quavery voice. "We mustn't hurt Master Draco." Poor thing still calls him "master". "Dobby won't- mustn't."

She spoke kindly. "Just Malfoy, Dobby- he's not your master anymore. And don't worry, we don't have any plans to hurt him in the near future." Never bite off more than you can chew.

"We don't? Damn, I was looking forward to it. Guess I'll have to find something else to do with my week." He could spend it with me. "Fortunately I've already got it worked out." Damn.

"Mind if I ask what?"

"Torturing myself." Huh? "I have to spend every night this week in the company of a horrible Slytherin girl…Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm your partner down here for the week."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Blaise is going to be spending every night this week alone in the same room as me. Obviously someone up above loves me- despite my sins.

Oh, it isn't voluntary of course- he's serving detention for a prank, but then, who would spend their whole week down here by choice?- I'm just glad to have him… If only I could…

Pansy had nearly always had male friends. She just didn't relate to other girls. Guys were so much more direct and she liked the fact that she, a cuddly, tactile person, could have a cosy physical friendship with them- it was nice to curl up with another person sometimes. And guys weren't nearly as obsessed with clothing and relationships (Draco Malfoy discluded)- she got enough of that from her mother.

Of course, sometimes she found them as difficult to read as any other female did, especially where it concerned her, but on the whole she felt much closer to them.

There was just one problem with having great guy mates: When she realised that she felt more for Blaise than just friendship, she also knew that he would never regard her as more than just a friend. Oh, sometimes she day-dreamed of course, studied him in the hope that she'd catch him staring dreamy eyed at her, but, of course, that never happened. Instead, he'd come and talk to her about his relationship problems with his long-time girlfriend Hannah Abbot or his latest crush on a Ravenclaw girl.

When he'd broken up with Hannah a couple of months ago, he had never really told her the reason. She'd dared to hope he might have suddenly realised he had deep unshakable feelings for her, Pansy, but that hope had been shattered when he'd treated her as always and chatted to her about other girls around Hogwarts.

Pansy could never tell him her feelings- short of hell freezing over- because, as well a just simply being too shy to openly proposition a guy, she didn't want to risk their comfortable friendship when she was so sure that nothing would come of it.

So all Pansy could do was to pretend that the crush didn't exist.

Except when she knew she could day-dream undetected about him.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Despite having Blaise around to keep her company, the night was passing very slowly. Pansy had started straight after her final class and they had since prepared the meal, sent up the mains, had their own, sent up the dessert, cleaned up the mains and had just started calling dessert down again. They would have to clean that up and then prepare breakfast (so they didn't have to get up early and do it) before they could leave. Oh, and clean the kitchen and dishes.

She sighed and cast another spell to call down another dish. Everyone else would be going back to relax in their common rooms, while she and Blaise would be stuck here 'till at least 11. And then they would have to come straight down in the morning and start over for breakfast.

She sympathised with the house elves who had to do this every day- not just for one week- but at least they didn't have classes as well. She could only be grateful that Dumbledore had decreed that whoever was on kitchen duty was exempt from homework- though Blaise had to find time for that as well, as this was a punishment for him.

Placing the fruit salad bowl on the correct bench- and wondering how anyone could actually enjoy fruit salad- she cast another spell. A plate of pavlova scraps appeared in her hands. She looked down at the fluffy, light sweet and had an idea of how to relieve some of the boredom.

She squished her hands down in the mixture, delighting in the slimy feel of it. Then she walked around to Blaise who was cleaning goblets at one of the sinks on the far side of the room. Keeping her hands behind her back, she looked up at him and spoke "Hey Blaise, do you like Pavlova?" He nodded. Swiftly, she brought her hands up and smeared them down the sides of his face. He jerked back, but the damage was done. At the look on his face she began laughing. "Oh, that was great! I've always wanted to do that to someone!"

"Urgh! Think that was funny do you?"

"Hell yes!" she giggled.

He looked disgustedly at her and turned back to his goblets.

Still laughing slightly she returned around the corner to her end of the kitchen to start cleaning all the dessert serving bowls she had brought down. However, she only got as far as her second repetition of "Scourgify" before she felt something sticky and cold pressed against the nape of her neck. Squealing and spinning around, she saw Blaise standing behind her with the remains of a piece of mud cake stuck to his hand.

Now he was the one laughing. "Now we're even."

She just gave him a dirty look and reached for some cloth to clean the back of her neck- knowing better than to point a wand at herself from behind. She waited until he had walked around the corner before she grabbed a handful of cream.

When she appeared in his area again, he glanced up inquiringly. Not fooled a second time by her hands behind her back he asked what she had. In answer she held up the large glob of cream.

"We're even" he stated.

"So?"

"…Don't start something you can't finish."

And even though she suspected he would eventually win, she couldn't ever resist a challenge. "Oh, don't worry- I won't." And she made to slap the cream against the side of his face.

Blaise grabbed her arms and a bout of arm-wrestling ensued. From the moment he'd gotten hold of her, Pansy had known she was going to loose this particular encounter: Blaise was just so much bigger and stronger than her- and she didn't want to hurt him. So although she twisted and squirmed trying to get away from his grip- finding herself turned around and wrapped in his arms a couple of times, a position she quite enjoyed- she eventually found herself with empty hands, as most of the cream had fallen off and what was left, Blaise had forced her to wipe onto her own arms.

Reluctantly conceding defeat- for now- she relaxed and he released her. Muttering inaudibly- mostly because she couldn't think of anything smart enough to actually say out loud- she returned to her end of the kitchen.

And so the evening continued:

Pansy was more persistent. She frequently attempted to sneak up on him- having learned that she would loose in a direct attack- but these assaults were rarely successful as there were, in fact, few ways to steal up on someone in a kitchen. When Toby came to supervise them- and seemed to take malicious pleasure in doing so- she was able to smear small amounts of chocolate and cream along Blaise's arms and enjoyed his expression, as their supervisor meant he was unable to do more than look dismayed.

At the end of clearing, she went up to the great hall to clean the tables. There were still students hanging around, socialising with those outside their own houses. She saw Blaise slip in the door behind her and cursed. I can't stop him- it'll make a scene and McGonagall's still here chatting to Granger.

She watched Blaise come nearer and simply bent over the table she was cleaning. He paused beside her as though waiting for her to make some move to avoid him. She sighed and glanced up at him, but he made no move. She kept working for another moment, then, "Well, just do it!" God, its bad enough I have to submit- does he have to draw it out?

Apparently. "I'm just deciding where to put it." Maybe he'll smear it across my lips...Oh God, please let him not read that thought on my face!

She stood still and just glared at him. Finally, he reached out- and smeared it right across her nose. She glanced up: McGonagall hadn't noticed. But she then had to finish wiping the table and walk back to the kitchen passage- right through the centre of all those students, some of whom certainly had noticed. She glared at Neville Longbottom who was sitting beside Hannah Abbot and one of her Hufflepuff friends- and noticed his grin just got wider. Good thing she wasn't trying to be intimidating these days- a face covered in cream didn't do a lot for the superior image.

That was it for the evening: neither of them got any more hits in.

However, Pansy had a plan: It had become traditional for those working kitchen duties to take leftovers back to their dorm for a midnight feast. Pansy had carefully put aside two huge pieces of Pavlova. Blaise had thought nothing of it- he was taking pumpkin juice and a whole apple pie. Pansy just had to pray it would all work out right.

As they were cleaning the last of the dishes, but before they laid out breakfast, she said "Well…I guess I'm willing to concede a tie", knowing fully that up until this point he had won.

A look of disbelief crossed his face. "What? You completely lost- I won!"

"Well, you did get better shots in- but I got more. Quantity over quality! You on for it again tomorrow?"

Looking as though he would dearly relish the chance to put her in her place once and for all, he said "You bet."

"Cool."

They finished and walked down to the Slytherin rooms. When they got there, he sat down in one of the big leather recliners and pulled out his homework. She came and stood near him, wanting to put her plan into action- she had the pavlova in an open container in one hand. He looked up.

"Well this has been fun" she said.

He looked a bit baffled. "Uh, yeah. Aren't you going up to your dorm?"

She edged closer, making foolish talk. "Yeah, good question. I guess I should be going up there…" Finally close enough! Her hand, which had been hovering by the pavlova, grabbed a huge handful and whipped up toward his face- going for a full face shot. Unfortunately, he swung his up to block it and her hand impacted with the side of his head, mashing most of the handful against his ear and sending the rest of it splashing across the chair and carpet behind him.

A look of absolute horror crossed his face.

Feeling only slightly bad- and very proud of herself- she darted away for the door to the girl's dorms. Once at a safe distance, she turned to see him pointing his wand at the mess as he tried to clean it up. "Do you want some help?" Hopefully not!

"No, its fine." He sounded resigned.

Oh that was brilliant! She couldn't resist having the last word: "And that, Blaise, was quality AND quantity.- And I won…Goodnight."

Smiling, she made her way to bed.