Pansy knocked politely on the Potter's front door, before settling down to wait. It'd taken a bit of work, convincing the others to let her come alone, but she'd rightfully pointed out that a single teenage heiress would be less worrisome than a whole crowd of purebloods with an agenda. Still, it had taken a quick promise to report on everything she saw to keep Aldon, at least, from following her in secret. Honestly, she wasn't some helpless second year anymore, she could take care of herself…

The sound of the door opening caught her attention, and she opened her mouth to begin presenting her polite excuses, only to find herself pausing in surprise when she saw who was on the other side. "Miss Potter?" she said at last, giving Harriet a friendly smile. "How wonderful to see you again."

She'd been expecting to see Lady Potter, or possibly Professor Lupin, but there was no point turning up her nose at a stroke of good fortune. She suspected that Lady Potter, at least, was perfectly capable of stopping any 'friendly visit' dead in its tracks.

"Pansy?" said Harriet, blinking at her in equal surprise, her eyes gleaming brilliantly through her glasses as she stared at the pureblood girl currently on her front porch. "What are you doing here?"

"I do apologize for the surprise," Pansy replied as she dipped into a polite curtsey. "I would have owled ahead, only I'm afraid that your wards intercepted my communication."

Harriet blinked, before flushing a mortified crimson, and Pansy was struck by the familiarity of the expression. It was as if Rigel himself had just remembered some pressing engagement he had pushed aside, only to be reminded of it after the fact. She wondered which of them had learned the expression from the other; then again, perhaps they had both picked it up from Arcturus?

Something to ask Rigel, if she ever saw him again.

"Merlin's beard, I'm sorry Pan-Miss Parkinson," said Harriet, switching names so quickly that Pansy almost didn't notice it happening. "I completely forgot about the wards. I should have asked my Dad to bring them down, or at least add an exception."

"It's quite alright," said Pansy, with a knowing nod and a charitable smile. "I imagine that you've been fairly busy over the past few days; it's not hard to see why you might forget about such a minor detail."

"You could say that again," said Harriet, accepting the excuse with a grateful smile. "It seems like everyone has been completely swamped, trying to get on top of your abduction. I've been trying to help out where I can, but Dad's just glad to keep me out of it."

"Ah, I see," said Pansy, before making her strike. "Is that why you haven't told your father about your part in my rescue?"

There was something rather satisfying about the quiet *Urk* that escaped from Harriet's lips, even as Pansy admonished herself to stay on goal; she was here to ask a favor, after all, not blackmail the friend of a friend. Still, it was nice to feel as if she had the upper hand for once.

"I haven't told anyone, of course," she continued as she stared at the carvings which surrounded the door, the better to pretend that she wasn't studying Harriet's expression with every inch of her focus. "After all, it's hardly any of my business, especially after you asked for my…discretion."

Left unsaid was that Harriet had only asked for discretion in regards to Hurst, which implied interesting things about the other girl's priorities.

"Still, I would have thought that Lord Potter would appreciate hearing that his daughter had upheld the law and defended the innocent," Pansy continued in her tone of idle musing. She watched with interest as Harriet grimaced, before shaking her head.

"Dad…doesn't really know what I do in the alleys," Harriet admitted at last, before a frown overtook her face. "He also wanted me to keep my head down. It was-"

She trailed off, allowing Pansy to complete the sentence. "Easier," said the pureblood heiress in a quiet voice. "To let or pass without comment." Especially when commenting would cause people to get concerned.

Harriet nodded with a quiet grimace. "I would have told him," she said, her voice caught somewhere between honesty and a lie. "I was going to tell him, but then…"

Pansy easily filled in the blanks. 'But then the story reached your ears, and you realized that nobody had decided to mention you, and that made it easier to stay silent because you were well out of it and why make a fuss?'

It was a thought which had crossed Pansy's mind a time or two, and that made it a little harder to banish, before favoring Harriet with a friendly smile. "So," she said with a polite nod, "may I come in?"

Harriet blinked as her own train of thought derailed, glancing at Pansy in surprise before realization dawned. "Oh, right, right, sure," she said, stepping to one side to clear the doorway. "Please, come in."

Pansy stepped delicately over the threshold, and got her first good look at Potter Place. It was…it shamed her to think it, but the first word that came to mind really was homely. It was certainly smaller than her family's hall, and made of much humbler material; really, what sort of pureblood built with wood these days. Why not use marble, like sensible people? It was more durable, easier to clean, and it looked nicer…well, it at least looked wealthier, and that was the important thing.

Still, for all that Potter Place looked like it should belong to a family three ranks lower, it was at least comfortable enough to make up for the difference in wealth. Everywhere she looked, she saw sofas and couches and overstuffed armchairs, enough room to seat a whole army with space to spare. She could feel the thick carpet squishing beneath her shoes, far different from the hard floors of her house, and the air was rich with the smell of spice, rather than flowers.

She also noticed a distinct lack of statues or tapestries, instead replaced by clusters of photographs on every available surface: Lord Potter, and his wife; Sirius Black, alone and with Lady Black; Professor Lupin; and, of course, the children: Harriet, Adriana, Arcterus, and…

Her heart clenched at the sight of Rigel, his face peeking out from behind a cluster of portraits.

No, she realized a moment later, that couldn't be Rigel, not unless he'd learned to clone himself. No, that had to Harry and Arcturus in disguise, arms wrapped around each other with identical smiles. Unless it was Rigel, in his disguise, and one of the other two, though she found it hard to imagine her friend infiltrating the Black or Potter household for something like a photo.

For something like potions, maybe, but not a photo.

"So," said Harry after a polite moment to let Pansy take in the view. "I'm not sure you ever mentioned why you were here."

Pansy spun to face her host, after taking a quick moment to compose herself. "Such suspicion," she exclaimed with phony outrage. "Surely one does not require a special occasion to visit a friend."

"We're not friends," said Harry, and if the words sent a faint pang through Pansy's heart, they looked as though it had physically pained the girl to say them, though she quickly hid her distress. "And I'm not telling you where Rigel is, no matter how much I owe you."

Pansy filed the girl's reaction away for later, before flashing her a meaningless smile. "And I wouldn't ask you to, even if I didn't owe you my life," she lied. "I imagine that if I was in your position, I'd feel the same way."

Harriet gave her a very frank look, one that Pansy was unused to receiving from anyone other than her parents. It implied, not disbelief, but an acknowledgement that the truth was more complicated than the pureblood heiress implied. It was enough to make Pansy wonder just how much of Slytherin's politics Rigel had shared with the other girl…

And it made her think about how many of Rigel's schemes must have been Harriet's idea. "Well, if we're not friends, and you're not here to blackmail me," said Harriet with a wry smile. "Then you must be here to ask me for a favor."

Yes, Harriet was definitely very aware of how the world worked, far more than Rigel had shown himself to be. "Essentially, yes," said Pansy, after a moment of thought. "Aside from my intent to provide my thanks, and pass on the thanks of my family, I was hoping to ask you for an introduction."

"An introduction?" said Harriet. "From a halfblood?" Her words were rightfully incredulous. "Where on Earth could an introduction from me get you farther than your family name?"

"Knockturn Alley, for one," said Pansy.

It was enough to make Harriet freeze where she stood, even if only for a moment. "I'm sorry, but I'm not sure what you expect from me," said Harriet, as if she'd never stopped at all. Her eyes were worried, though she hid it well.

She'd obviously been taken off guard by the question, judging by the clumsy deflection. "You apparently spent four years down there on your own," said Pansy, carefully refraining from poking holes in the argument. "Aldon says that you fit down there like a native, so much so that you've even taken jobs down there…"

"That's not what I meant, Pansy," said Harriet, shaking her head with a determined expression. Pansy was, admittedly, a little startled by how the girl's whole attitude had changed, moving from shock and confusion, to something as stern and resolute as a cliff face. It reminded her, just a little bit, of what she had seen when Harriet had come slicing through the wall.

"Listen," the halfblood continued. "I don't know what you're expecting to find in the Alleys, but it's not some kind of playground you can just mess around in. It's dangerous down there, and the people who live there have it hard enough already without you coming around and making a mess of things."

Pansy wondered if all of the defensiveness was genuine. If there really was a clue for finding Rigel in the alleys, then feigning moral outrage would be a decent way to keep out the curious, if not the determined.

Then again, she already knew that Miss Potter had seemingly gone native down there. It was certainly possible that she was simply, and genuinely, concerned about their well-being.

Either way, she doubted that Harriet would appreciate her true feelings right now. "I don't want to go down to cause a mess, as you put it," she retorted, taking a moment to smooth down her dress. "I simply wanted to pass on my thanks to your friends."

The answer was enough to make Harry relax just a little, though her guard was still up. "It's not like you don't know who Leo is," she pointed out. "You can thank him anywhere."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, let me just thank the Aldermaster's son for rescuing me from a bunch of thugs, after telling everyone I know that I have no idea who actually rescued me. Yes, I'm sure that'll go over fantastically."

Harriet grimaced, but refused to relent. "There's no reason you couldn't say it privately-" she began, before Pansy interjected.

"Nothing is ever really private for a pureblood family," she pointed out. "Especially when it's something as…juicy as two heirs meeting out of the public eye. Even if they didn't know the specifics, people would start talking; I assume you would rather avoid that."

"Besides, I didn't say that I wanted to thank Leonel Hurst," she continued, pressing her advantage. "I wanted to thank all of your friends. Not as the pureblood heiress to her social inferiors, but as one witch, or wizard, to another."

Pansy knew was taking an immense gamble here. If Harriet was prepared to be cynical about this, then she'd be able to slap down the pureblood's argument in a trifle. Something as simple as suggesting she send a letter, or agreeing to pass on a message, and Pansy's argument would be sunk.

But Pansy believed she knew a bit about Harriet, or at least some of the ways in which her personality had overlapped with Rigel's, and Rigel had always been the sort of wizard to get personally invested. If he had been rescued by someone, he was definitely the sort of person who'd try to pay off his debt personally, and she was willing to bet that Harriet was the same.

And that meant neither of them would deny Pansy the chance to do the same.

Harriet considered her carefully, her brilliantly green eyes sharp and focused behind the gleam of her glasses; then the shriek of a boiling kettle cut across the room, and her thoughtful focus was shattered as thoroughly as the tense mood. Harriet blinked, before a blank smile appeared to replace her frown. "Would you like some tea?" she asked.


As much as she might have held back a sneer at the Potter's decor, it could not be denied that they had a truly excellent taste in tea; it wasn't hard to recognize the fragrance of a polynesian blend, steeped to perfection and served with a lump of sugar to taste. Delicious.

Pansy leaned back against the cushions of the couch as she enjoyed her drink, while watching as Harriet did the same on the other end of the table. Any attempts at conversation had died in the face of the halfblood's monosyllabic answers, and eventually Pansy had resigned herself to watching the other girl's contemplations in silence.

If nothing else, she privately considered this a good sign; Harriet would hardly spend so much time thinking about the subject if she intended to dismiss Pansy offhand.

As she watched Harriet come to a decision, and put down her cup, a touch of humor crept through her thoughts; it seemed that even in Potter Place, the most important conversations still took place over tea.

Harriet tapped her fingers against the arm of the couch for a few moments, before she suddenly said, "If I agree to do this, there'll need to be rules."

Pansy tried to hide her surprise, but she couldn't quite contain the widening of her eyes. "Truly?" she asked, the word slipping out through her lips before she could stop it; she immediately compensated. "Only, I was expecting more of an argument. Maybe a comment or two about how it wasn't safe down there."

"Why would I do that?" said Harriet, catching her off-guard once more. "You got kidnapped and nearly tortured down there; I expect you have a better idea than most how dangerous the alley's can be."

Pansy hid her frown behind the rim of her tea-cup, displeased to be reminded of her little 'adventure'. "True," she admitted, her tone a touch more waspish than she had intended. "And yet, you don't seem worried at all. I suppose the alleys hold no threat for someone who can duel six grown wizards at the same time."

But Harriet was already shaking her head with that smile, that damn, depreciating smile on her face, and Pansy couldn't help but catch her breath because that was Rigel's smile, sitting across the table from her. That was Rigel's smile, that same damn grin, and it meant that the next words were going to be a lie.

"I just got lucky," Harriet said, and Pansy found herself too off-balance to read the expression which flickered across the other girl's face.

"Well, you seem remarkably confident for someone who just got lucky," Pansy eventually managed to say, struggling to keep her internal turmoil out of her expression.

The half-blood's only response was a measuring look, and a shrug. "It's not so bad, once you get used to it," Said Harriet. "You just have to pay your dues, and mind your own business, and most of the time people will leave you alone."

"And if they don't?" Said Pansy.

"Harriet shrugged a second time. "That's what the dueling lessons were for."


AN: I'm not quite sure I like this chapter, and I definitely have no idea where this is going still, but the fun thing about writing something just for fun is that it's okay to half-ass it, sometimes. In a lot of ways, this was supposed to be a transition scene, rather than something actually important, a way to show the characters moving from Plot A to Plot B, though I rather enjoyed Pansy's attempts at scheming Harry into submission.

It's very interesting to think about, because in a lot of ways Pansy is far better at social-fu, but she's working with a great big blind spot, and she's still working out the edges of it.