Pansy

Pansy couldn't help but smirk when she awoke a few hours later. Despite napping the entire day, she'd gone straight back to the commons - successfully avoiding Graham - and finished sleeping off the exhaustion she felt from her ordeal the previous night. She stretched out among her sheets and twisted, popping her back. On her side table lay Weasley's wand next to hers. It was difficult to tell in the always-dim lighting of Slytherin house, but she suspected it was well after midnight. What a perfect time for her run, under the cover of night. And she supposed she could stop in on that Weasley git and release him before she landed herself an expulsion. The thought of it brought to mind her mother screeching at her for disgracing the family name, which was enough to push her to her feet and be prompt in grabbing her robes.

Since she'd slept in joggers, she only needed to slide on her trainers and throw her robe over her shoulders before she was ready. Weasley's wand was stuffed into the pocket of her robe and her own stayed firmly in her hand, in case those wretched Gryffindors were out on the Hunt. With dismay, she looked down at the gleaming badge pinned to her chest - a target in the outside dungeons, she was sure. But there was always the chance of Filch not believing that she was a prefect should she run into him, so she left it where it was. All the Gryffindors likely knew she was a prefect anyway.

Pansy stopped to give Lizzie an affectionate rub before making her exit. When her door shut behind her, there were a series of mechanical sounding clicks that signaled the door locking itself. Out in the corridor of the prefects' wing it was so dark she could hardly see a thing, but she put a hand to the wall and felt her way down toward the common area. Once there, the embers of the night's fire were still burning bright enough for her to see the room and she tugged her robe further around her to hide her joggers. She would be horrified for anyone - Slytherin or otherwise - to see her looking like such a slob. Pansy was nearly past the couches when light flooded in from the torch-lit dungeon and the shadow of a person stretched across the floor. She froze, not so much afraid of being seen as in fright of someone having appeared unexpectedly. It was Graham. A knot lodged in her throat.

For a moment she stood still, thinking he may miss her in the low lighting. It was a ridiculous thing to think, as she was standing right in the bloody way. "What -," she said, pausing to clear the grog from her throat. "What were you doing out?"

Perhaps he wouldn't have seen her after all. You would have thought she was a Dementor with the way he jumped at the sound of her voice. Pansy was reminded of last Easter holiday, when she and Graham were invited to Malfoy Manor for dinner. On their way up the lawn, a rabid peacock had gone after them and Graham had run off and left Pansy to deal with it herself, but not before making a small screech more akin to a first-year girl. Not his best moment - not in a million years - but it was one of Pansy's personal favorites.

After realizing it was only her, Graham squared his shoulders and tilted his chin upward in some attempt at self-pride. "My rounds," he said, voice tight. "And what are you doing out? And for that matter, where have you been?"

Pansy was happy for the dim lighting or else he might have seen her grimace. "Thirsty," she said, shifting on her feet. Merlin, she would just die if anyone knew she was sneaking out to run in the middle of the night. And there was no way in hell she was telling him she also was stopping by to release Weasley.

Graham cocked his head to the side, crossed his arms over his chest, then repeated,"And where were you today?" Despite the darkness of the room hiding her moment of panic, Pansy looked down at her hands.

"I just didn't feel like going to class," she said, then more defiantly added, "I'm allowed to make my own choices, you know."

He had the audacity to scoff, which in turn made Pansy's mouth turn down at the edges. "Go get your drink and get back," he said dismissively, though she could hear the undercurrent of irritation in his tone. "If you get attacked, you're on your own." And with that he brushed by without so much as a glance and went down the prefects' corridor.

Pansy didn't have to be told twice. It would be awful for him to change his mind and come after her, so she shot out into the dungeons before he could see which way she'd gone. Going out for a run was bad enough - running was far too masculine and sportlike. Girls were meant to exist as mere twigs without having to work for it. At least, that's how it was always presented within the higher-bred families. Quidditch was another thing frowned upon for girls - again, too masculine.

At that, Pansy thought of the Weasley git - Fred - and how he said she'd make a good seeker. As she rounded the last bend of the dungeons, no Gryffindor in sight, she scoffed. Naturally someone as low-bred as a Weasley would find it acceptable for a girl to play on the Quidditch team. Completely inappropriate.

At the top stair, which led to the Entrance Hall, Pansy paused to stick her head out into the corridor. It must've been later than she thought – the torches were offering such low light that it was a wonder she could see. Listening for any movement, whether from rowdy students or wheezing caretaker, she inched her way through the hall and pulled forth the heavy creaking door. Once it was shut behind her, Pansy pulled the robe tighter around her shoulders to shield off the chill and took off down the lawns.

The Hogwarts grounds had always been creepy late at night, but Pansy looked up and found there was no moon in sight, only bright stars overhead. The lawn stretched out in front of her, dipping down the slope, and looked an eerie blue in reflection of the sky. The path was no more than worn grass, but she knew it well from years of going to her favorite spot, the tree hidden in the outskirts of the forest.

Pansy came to the fork near the lake and stayed on the left path, heading toward where she left Weasley. She would get the Weasley situation taken care of first, then double-back and follow the right path - which led to the Quidditch Pitch - to get her run in.

The closer she was to the forest, the thicker the foliage around her ankles grew.

Where the trees grew together overhead, all light was extinguished around her. It was a path she knew well, but a pain in the arse nonetheless. And for some odd reason, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. A chilling suspicion stole over her that maybe she was being watched.

That caused a new, nasty thought. What if his friends had already found him? What if they were hiding where she couldn't see?

Pansy stilled and thought it over. Honestly, the chances of them finding him were slim to none. Most people didn't even realize there was a path that snaked around the lake and dipped into the forest.

From her left, somewhere in the distance, something big moved through the trees. Definitely not a human – she heard the distinct and chilling snap of a tree limb.

Fuck, well now she was liable, wasn't she? If his friends hadn't come, he was still out there bloody helpless. Not that she cared about what happened to him, but if he got injured, she'd be the one in trouble.

"Merlin," she cursed under her breath, trying to tread carefully. Whatever that was out there, it was not something she wanted the attention of.

Pansy knew she was drawing close, but was afraid to cast Lumos and make herself a moving target.

"Weasley!" she spat out in a whisper.

Ahead, perhaps 10 more steps, she heard a muffled grunt. She quickly shushed him, aware that the beast in the forest had once again grown still. Pansy took careful step forward, hands outstretched, until her foot nudged what felt like a human. She let her hands rove in front of her until she met a head of hair.

"Please tell me that's you and not some weird fucking creature," she whispered as quietly as possible.

In the distance there were more noises, headed their way. She tensed in anticipation, but whatever it was grew still once more. The mass of hair in her hands moved with another grunt – definitely human.

"Bloody idiot, shut the fuck up," she hissed. Aiming blind in the dark with only the handful of hair to guide her, she flicked her wand to release the tongue from the top of his mouth.

A sigh of relief signaled she'd hit her target. Initially she expected anger out of him for what she'd done, but found herself quite surprised when a warm note of laughter was the first thing to tumble out of his mouth. "Nice one," he said, not making any attempt to be quiet whatsoever.

"Shut it!" she hissed, but the damage was done. Whatever was lurking in the distance let out a terrible roar and came crashing through the trees toward them. Pansy shot Weasley with the spell to unlock his legs and spun, heart hammering. She held her wand out in defense, but it was too dark to see anything.

"Wand!" Weasley said, urgency in his tone as he got to his feet. Pansy shoved her hand into her robe pocket and fisted his wand, pulling it forth and waving it in his general direction until the back of her hand met with his chest. There was a clumsy moment where his hand fiddled over hers trying to grasp the wand, but then they were both armed and waiting.

"I don't understand how you didn't hear the damn thing," Pansy hissed, shooting off a stunning hex blind in the direction of the noises. A terrible whine fled the darkness and the speed of its trot increased.

"Go," Weasley said, all traces of his earlier amusement gone. She felt him brush past her right arm, putting himself between her and the creature crashing forward. He cast out a hex and missed, though there was a sliver of movement seen. Whatever it was, it was huge. "Parkinson, go," he said.

Naturally her first instinct was to flee, but she would be damned if she did in front of a Gryffindor. She tried to take a step forward, wand raised toward the animal, but her stomach met with his arm, outstretched behind him to keep her in place. She pushed against him, trying to pass him, but his arm hardened, hand pushing against her stomach as he shot off hexes with his other. Pansy didn't even think he realized he was doing it. It seemed to just be a natural reaction.

Well, none of that. Pansy whipped her wand and sent a hex flying, bright and bold, into the line of trees ahead. For a brief moment, there was a flash of gnarled teeth leaping toward them.

That was all Pansy needed to lose what little bit of courage she had. "Run, you idiot," she screamed, grabbing Weasley by the elbow and giving him a hard yank. Weasley shot off one more hex before turning and trying to keep up with Pansy, who had no problem dislocating his shoulder if he didn't keep up.

Both abandoned the idea of hurting whatever it was and allowed their feet to be propelled by its horrendous snarls growing closer. Pansy felt her chest might explode between her heart pounding and the way she gulped for air. The ground, already uneven and overgrown, was even more difficult to navigate in the pitch black and more than once they almost went toppling over.

The edge of the forest was in sight and they burst out like an explosion, not stopping just because they were in open air. Their feet pounded against the loose rocks that made the footpath. Pansy cast a look back over her shoulder and saw it hadn't followed outside of the forest, but something reflected - yellow eyes - near the line of trees. It was enough to keep her running until they reached the fork in the path, where she slowed to a trot and put her hands on her knees, gulping in air like it was the last she would ever get of it.

Weasley, on the other hand, collapsed like a weed onto the grass, his shoulders heaving with each breath. "Well," he said, gasping for air. "That was dramatic."

Pansy lifted her head and looked in his direction, a half-hysterical laugh snaking up her throat. Weasley gave a huff of a laugh in response, partially breathless, and at that the two of them abruptly broke out into uncontrollable laughter. That is until the beastie must have heard them and let out a hair-raising howl. Both sobered at the noise.

"I thought you were going to rip my arm right out of the socket," he said as he stood, grin still in place.

Pansy straightened herself out, sides aching from laughter and running. She arched a brow, though an amused smile played on her mouth. "I would have if you hadn't have hurried up," she said. "No one could say I didn't try if I showed up at the castle with your arm."

Weasley rolled his eyes at that and the two began their way back up toward the castle with small grins, neither looking at the other.

"I'm not going to lie, I thought you were going to leave me out there all night," he admitted as they drew close to the castle doors.

Again Pansy laughed. "I would have if I hadn't been worried about getting expelled," she said, sliding into the Entrance Hall. The castle, like the grounds, was always so eerie at night. A hush crept over them and Pansy's smile slid from her face. Hogwarts at night was a solemn place.

No later than a few seconds after the door shut with a thud, a force hit her in the back and she was sent sprawling to the floor on her hands and knees. As it had the first night of the Hunt, everything in the room went pitch black and she couldn't see a thing.

"Points for me," Weasley told her, an almost cruel note in his voice. It was a stark contrast to his playful demeanor outside and the abruptness of the change confused her. There was no sense in pulling her wand out, as she wouldn't know which direction to aim. Whatever that black stuff was he threw, it was both maddening and brilliant.

"Pansy," spat a voice from near the entrance stairs. Graham, no doubt, but she still looked up and peered through the thinning blackness of the air. Yes, him - no one else walked with such ridiculous rigid posture.

Pansy squinted and tried fanning the area in front of her face, but it did nothing to dilute the thick air. The absolute black had faded, leaving a smoke-like haze over everything.

"Here," she called out and Graham's figure adjusted slightly and steered toward her. As he drew closer, she could make out more of his features.

"Weasley," he called out, looking wildly from side to side. No answer. Unsurprising.

"I'm sure he's long gone," Pansy said, pushing herself up and attempting to find steady footing. The palms of her hands stung and she figured they were probably all scraped up again, just as they had been a few nights prior when Weasley sent her sprawling in the dungeons.

Graham merely hummed in reply. "I was just coming to look for you and I saw him, right there behind you. Prat looked right at me and went on hexing you anyway."

Something weird flitted around in her stomach. She wasn't sure exactly what it was, but she was glad she had her face righted by the time the air completely cleared. Graham looked a fright, his jaw set and ears red.

"It's fine," she said, moving forward and taking his hand. "I'm fine, really. Not a big deal, it probably would have been worse if you hadn't have showed up."

That seemed to sate Graham. But something about it didn't sit right with Pansy. And she wouldn't dare say it aloud, not even to herself, but she suspected things would have been fine if Graham hadn't shown up. In fact, she was sure Weasley had covered for her.