Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.
Hermione
Pansy and I discretely slip away from Cho and Ginny. It isn't that hard, actually. Ginny seems fascinated with finding out how someone can spend so much money on clothes. I suppose it's only natural, when a single pair of shoes can cost as much as an entire wardrobe I see why Ginny would wonder just what makes them so special to justify the price.
I make my way towards an alley, trying to look discrete and take my time. There's a figure in the shadows, wearing a cloak (when are shadowy figures not wearing cloaks?) I stick close to the store fronts, trying to stay in the figure's blind spot before quickly turning the corner, my wand drawn.
The figure sees me and turns to run down the alley, but finds Pansy there, her wand at the ready. While I was taking my time Pansy was circling around to cut off whoever it is exactly like we did.
"All right, who are you?" I demand.
The figure looks back and forth between Pansy and I a few times before finally taking off their hood. Underneath is a beautiful girl, just a year or two older than Pansy and I, with long platinum blonde hair.
"Narcissa," Pansy states.
"What are you doing here?" I ask. "You were supposed to be gone months ago."
"I was gone," she insists. "I'm only here for the day."
"Why? This is one of the worst days to be here; Diagon Alley is full of students and parents. What if someone sees you?"
"I know, but I was careful. Besides, no one would recognize me; I haven't looked like this for years. But even if it is a risk, I had to come; I had to see him…."
Rather than ask who she means I look behind me, back into the flow of people in Diagon Alley. I don't need more than a second or two to realize who Narcissa came to see: Draco and his father are sauntering along with their typical Malfoy attitude.
"I took all I could and left that day," Narcissa explains. "I haven't been back since, but I had to come and see him. I didn't get to then. Even if it's dangerous, I wanted to see him one more time. I know I can't talk to him, but I had to at least see him; he's my son."
"You know I'm pretty sure you're younger now than when you gave birth." Pansy comments.
"Pansy." I admonish
"Yeah, yeah, just saying, that's a girl who's never given birth now."
"No, she's right," Narcissa agrees. "It's strange being young. There's people I know who now I'm far too young to have met, places I remember from a time before I should have been born. I feel like the oldest eighteen-year-old in Britain."
"Perhaps you should try not to focus so much on the past and enjoy your newfound youth?" I suggest.
"I am. It's just, when you're alone; sometimes nostalgia finds you. You must have taken some of that potion with you as well; someday you'll understand."
Narcissa is right, Pansy and I did take some of that potion with us, a great deal actually. I still maintain we should destroy it, but Pansy disagreed. As soon as we were able, we got a vault in Gringotts and put all the potion inside. It was a compromise solution, of sorts. Actually, I suppose it would be more precise to call it a non solution. We locked it up so we could decide what to do about it later. Given how the summer was, however, we never actually got around to talking about it.
"Just, be careful," I advise. "If Pansy noticed you, other people can as well. And say whatever goodbyes you need to today. From a distance of course."
"Afraid if they find out you aren't the heroic killer of Death Eaters the Prophet wrote you as they'll take away those shiny medals of yours?"
"I'm afraid that if our arrangement is found out we all lose." Of course Narcissa loses more than we. She would have a cell at Azkaban waiting for her. Pansy and I would not fare terribly well either, however, likely being branded Death Eater sympathizers and such. Maybe even charges of aiding and abetting terrorists.
"Got to love trust based on the ability to completely fuck everyone over if anyone squeals," Pansy smirks.
"Yes, so let's all be sure to not have anyone find out, shall we?" I give Narcissa a firm look.
"I may not look it, but I'm too old for that look to work," she replies. "Still, I take your point; you don't have to worry about me."
"Good."
Ron
So we're on the train back to school. I guess that's a kind of a good thing? I don't know. Last year was just messed up. Those rubbish grades I got in Defense Against the Dark Arts actually stood, so now my parents are all thinking I'm super good at it and can do it this year too. And if Harry was still upset about the whole end of the DA thing then some of the others probably are too.
The whole end of last year was just dumb. All that rubbish with Umbridge, watching everyone get expelled, Umbridge bragging about how she was going to throw them in Azkaban, then Hermione goes attacking a teacher? That's not supposed to be possible. All that and then at the Ministry I get saved by one of Luna's made up critters? The whole thing was just messed up. Maybe this year will be better.
Of course it isn't totally normal; we're sharing a cabin with Parkinson. Me, Harry, Cho, Hermione and Parkinson. Not long after the train gets going Malfoy comes calling, just barging into our cabin like always. He's an annoying git, but he always does this. It's normal, so I don't really mind so much. Ok, actually I do; he's scum and I'd love it if I never had to see him again.
There's the usual escorts with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, and some new chick with him. I don't know her name and I don't particularly care; she was one of the girls who always used to follow Parkinson around.
"Hmm, I do believe I've been replaced," Parkinson smirks. "Hello Daphne."
"Greengrass?" Cho asks.
"That's the one."
"She's from a family that doesn't produce defective whores like you, Pansy." I guess Malfoy isn't even pretending to be civil today.
"Awe, you sound bitter, Draco."
"Bitter? No, I'm not bitter. What I am is going to kill you, you and your mud blooded whore for what you did to my mother. You burn her to death and then get medals like you're heroes, saviors of the Ministry and all that. What a load of crap. Just a pair of fucking murdering cunts in need of putting down."
"Then your mother shouldn't have been a Death Eater," Harry says.
"Shut up, Potter," Malfoy glares at Harry. "This is none of your business. This is between me and the two cunts who killed my mother."
"I do believe that ranks rather high for cliché lines," Cho points out.
"You shut up too, Chang. People who get in my way don't tend to do well."
"Careful, Malfoy. There's no more Inquisition Squad; you're just a prefect now, and that doesn't get far if you want to try and throw your weight around against the Head Girl. That is unless you four want to try a fight right now. If that's the case, just say so. I'm always game for a fun fight," Cho looks kind of eager for a fight actually. Creepy.
Malfoy considers for a bit. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? No, I'll deal with these murderous cunts when they don't expect it, when they're alone."
And with that Malfoy and his group leave, slamming the door behind them.
"Not much for originality, is he?" Cho comments.
"No, but he can be dangerous." Harry states, turning to Hermione. "You and Parkinson killed his mother. Malfoy may not be a fully fledged Death Eater like his father, but he can still be a threat. He probably can cast a killing curse, and he's determined."
"You think he'd go that far?" Hermione wonders.
"You have parents, you tell me."
"Cho buried my dad in rubble and he got tossed in Azkaban, I don't mind at all," Parkinson comments.
"I think your family views are rather unusual, dear," Hermione smiles at Parkinson. Either this is the start of Hermione using pet names for Parkinson (Merlin I hope not) or she's messing with the girl.
"Joking aside," Cho starts "he did sound serious. You both need to be careful. A year is a long time, and the castle is a big place. I'd advise you to not be alone for things like prefect rounds, though that won't be an issue, will it?"
Parkinson and Hermione both blush. Somehow Parkinson is still a prefect in Slytherin. Merlin knows how, she didn't even live there at the end of last year. I'd love to know how the heck Hermione talked McGonagall into that one. Of course I'm a prefect too, and Harry isn't, so I think a lot of this stuff is pretty nutty.
"In all seriousness, do be careful. I haven't had much contact with him outside of Quidditch, but even from just that I can tell you how hate filled Malfoy can be," Cho continues.
"Yeah, we'll be careful," Parkinson yawns. "But now that we've had Draco's obligatory crap, I'm taking a nap; I'm tired."
"It's the middle of the day? What are you tired from?" I ask.
"I was up late on the Internet."
"What's an Internet?"
"It's a Muggle invention, one of their best. It's this thing that brings an infinite amount of pornography, every imaginable fetish and depravity, right to your bedroom. It's amazing."
"What? Infinite pornography?"
"It isn't for that," Hermione interrupts. "It's for instant communications across the world."
"If it isn't for porn why is there so much of that stuff on it?" Parkinson looks at Hermione.
"Because there's a lot of people with minds like yours on computers."
"But this is a real thing?" I want to know. "Muggles really just have all that stuff whenever they want?"
Hermione nods.
"Wow, Muggles are weird."
What's also weird is seeing Parkinson and Hermione together. By the time we're an hour or two into the train ride, Parkinson is asleep, leaning her head on Hermione's shoulder and Hermione has her arm around Parkinson. They look like a real couple. I guess they are, technically.
"What's with that look?" Hermione asks me.
"Nothing, it's just, she looks all nice and sweet and stuff," I answer.
"Who, Pansy?"
"Yeah."
"I've told you, there's a side of her you haven't seen."
"Maybe, I still say she's an evil bitch you should dump though."
"Ronald, I love Pansy and our being together is not something that will change. I plan to be her girlfriend right up until the day when I change my name to Hermione Parkinson."
"You know she isn't a Parkinson anymore, right?" Harry points out.
"Yes, well we'll just have to see about that." I don't know, something about the way she says that is weird. There was a time Hermione never said things like that. Now it's like she's got some evil Parkinson style scheme she's working on.
Cho
Finally, I'm back at the castle. Not that my summer was terrible, but a large part of it was an exercise in hiding who I am and want to be from my parents, so I'm quite glad to be quit of that performance. Instead I'm sitting down at the banquet at the outset of the new school year, waiting for Professor Dumbledore to start his speech.
"Good evening all, and welcome to another year at Hogwarts," Professor Dumbledore starts. "I hope you are all as glad to be here as I am. Before we start, I believe we have a bit of business from the end of last year to deal with.
"When I returned to the castle at the end of last year it was quite obvious for all to see from the hourglasses here in the Great Hall that Hufflepuff had a commanding lead in points. As such, I would like to take this opportunity to belatedly award the House Cup for the last school year to House Hufflepuff."
Wait, he's awarding the House Cup based on the hourglasses in the Great Hall? Why? He's the Headmaster, he has access to the master hourglasses in the headmaster's office, why not use those? He must have known the ones in the Great Hall were tampered with, even if he didn't know I was the one who did it. So why do it? A sort of condemnation of the Inquisition Squad (and Slytherin by extension) or perhaps an endorsement of the tampering I did?
Professor Dumbledore continues. "Now as I'm sure all of you know, Voldermort has returned. And yes, as many of you may have seen in the paper, there have been an increasing number of Death Eater attacks over the course of the summer. I want to assure all of you that you are completely safe here at Hogwarts; there is no safer place in all of Britain. Neither Voldermort nor his Death Eaters can harm any of you while you are here.
"Also, there are some changes to the Hogwarts staff for this year. Firstly, I would like to inform everyone that as we have a new potions master this year, Professor Snape will be taking over as our instructor for Defense Against the Dark Arts."
I look up at the staff table. It's a bit embarrassing, but with my various friends all vying for my attention, this is the first time I've actually spared more than a cursory glance for the assembled faculty. Certainly there is a somewhat elderly man who I'm assuming is the new professor for Potions class, but much more surprising is the presence of a blonde girl who looks almost young enough to be a student.
"We also have a special guest this year: Miss Fleur Delacour. Some of you may remember Miss Delacour as the Beauxbatons champion from the Triwizard Tournament two years ago. Miss Delacour is here conducting research for her postgraduate scholarly work comparing the various great wizarding educational institutions of Europe. You will no doubt see her around the castle as well as possibly observing your classes this year. She may also wish to speak with some of you. Please feel free to do so or not as you see fit."
Fleur stands up and waves, practically striking a pose as she does so. She's in a blue outfit that clearly is based on her previously worn school uniform, but this version has been altered rather heavily to highlight Fleur's abundant natural gifts. Her blouse is open to show off her cleavage (which Fleur has no shortage of) and the skirt is now extremely short, so there's nothing to obstruct the view of Fleur's long, bare legs. The uniform shoes are changed out for high heels colored to match the fetishized uniform. The effect is many things, blatant, attention grabbing, sexy, but certainly not subtle or under stated.
Honestly, I'm not quite sure what to make of her. As Professor Dumbledore said, she was here two years ago, yes, but I had essentially no contact with her and paid her no mind. Now looking at her I can't help but think had such an outfit been in the store when Pansy and Hermione took me shopping they would have tried to get me to model it. At the risk of sounding vain, I think I could pull it off respectably.
I think it's quite likely that most females in the Great Hall are not fond of Fleur's display at all, but I find myself more sympathetic than most I think. There's an honesty to the narcissism at work, a shameless flaunting of beauty that in a way I probably should find to be borderline offensive, but I can't help but admire.
So this is the sort of girl Pansy and Hermione were suggesting I be, if only in jest or as part of some grand dress up game? I think it was more a lark for them, the sort of thing girls do together, rather than an attempt at grand life advice, but I can't help but wonder, why can't it be both? Surely there are worse examples to emulate than a Triwizard Champion. I have the wardrobe for it, it would be a waste to not wear what I bought, wouldn't it? (Especially after Harry was so upset about it.) If nothing more it could be a fun game, a sort of teenage dress up game.
Finally, Fleur sits down and Professor Dumbledore continues. "As always, the Dark Forest is strictly out of bounds and no students are permitted within it. Also, as I'm sure you all have heard, the various Educational Decrees from last year have all been repealed, including the formation of the Inquisition Squad; it is back to business as usual here at Hogwarts. Of course, that also will include Quidditch. I hope it will be a great year for you all, and now I bid you all a good night."
That's it, the very last time I'll hear one of these start of term speeches. It's sad in a way; school has been all I've known for the past six years, and I have no idea what I'll be doing a year from now. For all the classes and material taught, it seems preparing students for life after school isn't a concern. Regardless of whether I want to play Quidditch, work in magical development or something else, there seems to be no thought at all to preparation of students or any attempts at a transitional period. The school simply has its graduation ceremony, hands us a diploma and off we go. No one has even spoken of how to apply for a job. Rather short sighted and compartmentalized, I think.
Still, that's almost a year off, not something I care to obsess about today. There's months to worry about Quidditch games, offers from professional teams, fall back plans and NEWT exams. In the short term, I'm more interested in seeing if my new look will get me reactions similar to our resident Veela. I'm hoping it will be a very enjoyable and ego validating experience.
Hermione
I didn't know what the official policy on where Pansy would stay was going to be, and I didn't ask. As far as I'm concerned she belongs in Gryffindor Tower. If I need any more evidence, I have Malfoy's threats on the train to cite. No one asks though, not Professor McGonagall, not Professor Dumbledore, no one. In fact, when we get upstairs Pansy's belongings are there waiting for us, transported by whatever means luggage is moved from the train to the dorms. Apparently that means this little housing arrangement is officially sanctioned. Or if not sanctioned at least allowed to continue with a blind eye turned. Either way, I'm satisfied with it.
Not to say I wouldn't prefer to actually share a bed with Pansy. In the times we were able to share a bed at my house, after my parents had left for work for the day, it was wonderful. Obvious carnal benefits aside, I really came to enjoy sleeping next to someone. I have no doubt that an arrangement like that is a bridge too far for Hogwarts, though. Still, even if I can't share a bed with her, I'll settle for keeping Pansy safe in the next bed over.
Not that she's there now; no, after sleeping through practically the entire train ride Pansy is awake and almost certainly down in the common room. It's late and I need the sleep, but there's something even more important I need to do.
It's dark in my dorm room, with all my roommates already asleep, except for Pansy, but I do my best to make sure I'm dressed decently and quietly slip out and head downstairs. I get to the common room, and sure enough, Pansy is there, pacing around the common room all.
"Oh, Hermione, thank God. I was bored out of my mind." Over the summer, I taught Pansy how Muggles don't invoke the name of Merlin when they swear, it's God for them. Saying Merlin in public will get you some strange looks, in fact. Pansy loved the irony of my teaching her to swear properly and since then she's been using God rather than Merlin.
"I'd be remiss if I didn't point out that this seems justice for abusing the Internet so much." I didn't come to scold Pansy, but I can't resist the urge to do it, though it is in jest.
"Yeah, yeah, blame the perverts who made that thing, not me."
"In all seriousness, I'm glad you're here like this. We need to talk."
"Talk eh? That doesn't sound good."
"It isn't relationship trouble or anything like that. It's about that day in the alley."
"Oh that. Thought we covered this already?"
"We started to, but I'm not sure we ever finished."
"I'm not going to cry again," Pansy frowns at me.
"I'm serious here, Pansy. I need to know that you understand that kind of thing is wrong and that it can't ever happen again."
"Which part, my cat getting murdered, coming across a gang who wanted to fucking rape us or what?"
"You know exactly what I mean."
"And just what would you have had me do in that situation? Forget about my dead cat and walk away? Maybe bend over and just take it?"
"Please don't be difficult here, Pansy."
"Difficult? How about you just tell me what I should have done there, then."
"It was a terrible situation; I won't deny that. Yes, having your cat killed in front of you is a horrible thing, as were their intentions, I don't dispute that. But there were options that didn't involve killing."
"Oh please, the world is better off without those assholes in it and you know it."
"That isn't our job."
"I've seen movies; I know how it goes. Losing my parents, that's a classic origin story for a vigilante super hero."
"This isn't a joke, Pansy. I need to know that you take this seriously."
"Look, Hermione, you don't see me going off on random killing sprees and shit. It's not like I'm some homicidal maniac or whatever the stupid term for that crap is. I'm fine. It was a shit situation, but it's over."
"This is more than just that. Actually that day was more like a symptom. Your behavior with Harry's uncle was another. The way you threatened that man… it wasn't just with harm, you pointed your wand at his throat from close range, that's a threat to kill. Even you don't normally act like that."
"What, I pointed my wand at some asshole, so what?"
"Pansy, I've been patient, I've given you space, but it just isn't working. I know you're upset, and I know you aren't dealing with it well on your own."
"Just what do you think I'm upset about?"
"Your parents, how they reacted to us, how they disowned you."
"What, I should be happy about that?" Pansy snaps.
"No, of course not; they treated you horribly, but you shouldn't just internalize all your emotions. It's affecting you very badly, and I'm worried it isn't getting any better."
"Yeah, fine, I'm pissed off. I didn't think it's any big secret. So what?"
"So it's affecting you, and not in a good way. What you're doing to deal with it isn't working."
"You're here so I'm sure you have the answer."
"Talk about it; talk to me, Pansy."
"Oh, you want to hear me bitch? Gee, where to start, my parents are assholes. That about cover it? We done with this feelings bullshit?"
"Yes, I do want to hear you bitch, Pansy; that's exactly what I want. And before you raise some issue of not wanting to look weak or some other ego issue, it isn't a factor here. I know you're strong, much more so than I am. I couldn't go through what you've gone through without falling apart. This isn't about any of that. It's about you needing to talk to someone."
"Why do you want to hear me complain so bad?"
"Because you need to talk about it. This is part of what couples do, they're there for each other. I realize we aren't much for normal things as couples go, but this is one place we need to do things the way others do. I know it sounds stupid and pointless to you, but believe me, talking will help. Actually, even if you don't believe me, just do it for me. Please?"
Pansy looks at me for a bit. "Fine, you want it? All right, have it your way. Yeah, my parents are assholes. We never were particularly close, mostly we just kind of ignored each other. Not like I was neglected or whatever shit Potter was, it was just more they had their shit to do and I had mine. There were nannies and governesses that dealt with me mostly.
"And yeah, I was promised to Draco; not exactly a prime catch there. Sure he's from a big time family, and he may not be horrible to look at, but come on, he's so busy dreaming of being some big shot but really he's just a small time loser. Oh yeah, and a pussy. Seriously, I think the idiot weasel has more balls than him. But whatever, not like we did much more than keep up appearances. Well, that and when he was hard up for a fuck. Seriously, that's something I won't miss. The man was shit in bed. So yeah, not like that's a lot I cared about losing."
"What about your home? You lost that as well," I prompt.
"Yeah, that actually did piss me off. It's a nice place. I guess you wouldn't know, never seen a big pure blood manor, but Parkinson Manor was a hell of a place; big mansion, nice grounds, out buildings, all that stuff. And it's where I kept my stuff. Yeah, that part I actually cared about; some of that stuff I've had for years and really wish I could have taken with me. I'm pretty pissed about that part, actually."
"I can't imagine what it would be like to lose a home like that."
"Yeah, it kind of sucked. Still, it could be worse; I thought I'd be living on my own, finding some empty house to live in over the summer or something. So yeah, living at your place was real good. And your parents were actually cool. The fucked up thing is I'm probably as close to them as I was to my real parents. Except yours actually like me and seem to give a shit."
"You were a very charming house guest."
"I can be a nice girl when I try."
"I know. Honestly it was a bit disconcerting to see at first. Also how well you took to Muggle life and technology."
"Well what the fuck else was I going to do? Just sit and be bitter or something like that? It didn't matter if I liked Muggle shit or not, that's what I was stuck with. Besides, what the hell else was I going to do? Wander around your house wondering why the rooms are so dark and wishing I knew what to do about it?"
"That's a healthy attitude." Pansy just shrugs at that. "Talking like this is healthy too. I imagine it feels better to let it out?"
"What, to vent? I guess. I still say you're weird for wanting to hear all this crap though."
"It's how healthy relationships work, Pansy."
"It's healthy to listen to each other bitch, but not try and score a threesome with Cho? That's fucked up, Hermione."
"Life can be strange."
Author's Notes:
Thanks as always to that_fan, who keeps on helping me with these chapters. Also my thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. I appreciate it.