This is going up early since I have a ton of work coming up, and wanted to get it out of the way pre-emptively. Also, because my beta is good to me and works fast! (Thanks, Ogis!) The next one should be up two weeks from now, not from when this should have gone up - so, the Wednesday after next. Cheers!

Oh, and thanks so much for everyone's reviews so far! I loved every single one of them :) And if I somehow haven't replied to yours, hunt me down...I assure you, it was unintentional if it happened!

4. Rendez-vous

The entrance hall was filling up as students milled around, waiting to get past Filch's station at the doors. Everyone seemed to have decided to leave for Hogsmeade right after breakfast – it was the type of bright, mild day that made everyone want to take full advantage of it – and the trickle of students that Filch was allowing out one-by-one did nothing to alleviate the growing crowd within.

Hermione stepped out of the way and hugged herself tighter as a group of seventh-year Hufflepuff boys jostled past her, clearly hoping to make it to the front of the growing queue ahead of everyone.

"I don't see why he has to check us now," Ginny whined. "Shouldn't they be more worried about us bringing Dark things into the school than out of it?"

Hermione heard Neville agreeing, but she wasn't really paying that much attention. Her case of nerves had not really abated, and it was making prolonged concentration a bit difficult. The slight case of sleep deprivation she was suffering from didn't help, either. Her night's sleep had been interrupted by absurd dreams, and she had woken up at first light – she had discovered this morning that at this time of year, the sun rose at precisely the right angle to Gryffindor Tower to send beams of light lancing through the window to hit her bed. Beams of painfully bright, hot, rousing light, to be exact.

And then she had proceeded to over-think every last decision she had to make – should she get up now, or close her curtains and try to get a bit more sleep so she wouldn't be tired later? She had taken a shower yesterday - if she washed her hair again this morning, would that make it look too frizzy? Or was it starting to look noticeably dirty already? What should she wear? She didn't want to be sending any unconscious signals with her choice of clothes, after all. Should she wake up Ginny and borrow some of her makeup? (After all, didn't girls generally wear makeup on dates?) Should she have checked some of those books out of the library so that she could give them a last-minute look-over now?

In the end, she opted for washing her hair (it was always somewhat frizzy; avoiding dirtiness was definitely more important), wearing regular school robes (what had she been thinking? Everyone wore school robes here, all the time. That part of her brain must still be on "summer mode"…), and not opting for makeup, which she never wore regularly, and which for all she knew would look silly on her face. And again, it wasn't like this was a date date. She had no reason to try to impress Pansy with her looks. Still restless after she was all ready, she double-checked the note that Pansy had owled her a few days ago. Yes, it still instructed her to meet Pansy at eleven o'clock in Madam Puddifoot's – as though she would have forgotten what it said, after nervously checking it so many times last night.

Finding that it was still more than an hour before breakfast started, she went down to the common room and worked on some Arithmancy problems – definitely the most boring and mechanical piece of homework she had to do, and hopefully something that would take her mind off the date.

It had worked to some degree, and after all the problems were done and triple-checked she had been able to go down with Ginny and Neville for breakfast and keep up reasonably normal conversation without fidgeting in her seat too much. She had found it hard to pay attention, though, and it was only getting worse now.

She looked over and saw Harry and Ron standing not far away, chatting with each other comfortably. They had their backs to her, so she couldn't see their faces, but they didn't look bothered in the slightest to be going to Hogsmeade just the pair of them. And it had always been something the three of them did together, ever since third year…

Hermione looked away. She was not going to get all sentimental about this now.

Her eyes came to rest on a small group of Slytherins standing on the other side of the entrance hall, near to the hallway that led to the dungeons. Pansy's dark eyes caught her own and Hermione had to look away again, slightly embarrassed. Had Pansy been staring at her? For how long? Hermione pretended to pay attention to Ginny and Neville's conversation, but she couldn't shake the temptation to glance up and see if Pansy was still staring at her.

Hermione swore she could feel a prickling on the back of her neck; she just had to see – her head jerked toward the other side of the room without asking her permission, and yes, Pansy was still staring at her. The Slytherin was leaning against a column with her arms folded over her chest, seemingly above the conversation going on around her, just watching.

Hermione knew she had been seen this time, and defiantly met Pansy's eyes. Well, if Pansy was staring there was no reason Hermione couldn't stare too. What did she think she'd do, make Hermione get flustered and turn away first? Pansy had managed to make Hermione flustered enough this morning without even trying; if she thought she was going to do it again, then she was sorely mistaken.

When Pansy saw that Hermione wasn't looking away, she arched an eyebrow. Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly, but still didn't look away, and Pansy seemed to relax against the column, looking smug. A tall Ravenclaw walked by and obstructed Hermione's view of the Slytherin, but when he passed, her gaze was still locked on Hermione. Hermione didn't even think she had blinked. When Draco Malfoy emerged from the corridor and touched Pansy's elbow, causing her to momentarily look away, Hermione felt strangely victorious.

On the other side of the room, Draco was talking into Pansy's ear in a low voice while she half-listened. His arrival had distracted her just long enough to glance away from Granger, and now the Gryffindor wasn't even looking at her anymore.

"When are you going to stop avoiding me, Pansy? I've been trying to have a word with you for days, but you keep slipping away."

Pansy gave up on Granger and turned her full attention to Draco.

"What do you mean?" She tilted her head to the side, as if puzzled. "I haven't been avoiding you, you just haven't been around is all. And if it's about the Granger thing, didn't we already talk about it?" She pretended that she didn't notice his hand still on her elbow. Of course she had been avoiding him, but things would go so much smoother if he believed otherwise.

Draco was good at hiding his emotions, but not that good. Pansy had known him for a while, and she could tell that he was gritting his teeth in frustration now. "No, we never talked about that. You said we would talk about it, and then started avoiding me. It's not the same thing as talking. Look, just tell me what you think you're doing here. You can't get away this time."

Pansy adopted a hurt expression. "Now why would you think I want to get away from you, Draco?" she asked, pouting slightly and moving to rest one hand lightly on his chest. "I would never. Why don't you ever believe me?"

"I just –" Draco started.

"Oooooh, is Draco jealous of the Mudblood?" she crooned, making puppy-dog eyes at him. It was so convenient the way their height difference allowed her to look up through her eyelashes without even trying when they were this close.

"No, I'm not jealous of her, don't be ridiculous. I just want to make sure you're not making a mistake…" Draco seemed to be leaning into her without realizing that he was doing it, and she congratulated herself on yet another successful use of her feminine wiles. She hazarded a glance toward the other end of the room, and saw that Granger and her friends were next in line to be checked. As if alerted to Pansy's gaze by an extra sense, Granger looked her way, and Pansy quickly shifted and drew Draco behind the column with her, so that it mostly shielded them from Granger's view. Speaking of jealousy, it probably wouldn't be strategic to let her see Pansy acting this way around Draco now.

"We can talk about this later if you still want to, ok? Now's not the best time," she whispered into his ear, since he was still pulled rather close to her. She thought she could feel him tremble a little – pathetic, really; she wasn't even trying.

"Ok," he agreed. "Meet me in the three broomsticks, after."

She stepped away, and could see that he was smirking. She fluttered her eyelashes at him again in a sickening manner, and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Ok, I'll see you then!" When he didn't move away, she nudged him. "Uh, Draco, it might not be good if she sees us together like this…" She gave him a don't ruin the joke look, and he reluctantly removed himself from her personal space.

He made to walk with her on the road to the village too, but she warned him off with several pointed looks, since Granger and her pathetic-looking friends were walking not far ahead. Since when had he gotten so possessive? Usually she was the one hanging on him. Or pretending to, at the very least, which amounted to the same thing. And he usually put on a good show of arrogantly tolerating her adoration, as though he expected no less. But lately, things had been different...he hadn't been around as much, and she had been too wrapped up in other things to worry about putting on a constant Pansy loves Draco show. She would have to be more attentive in the future, if she didn't want to commit some mistake, somewhere, without knowing it.

-) U C (-

Hermione's nerves hadn't let up the whole time she was wandering around Hogsmeade with Ginny and Neville. She was vaguely aware that they were trying to include her in their conversation, and that Neville had offered to get her a pack of Sugar Quills when they were in Honeydukes, but she couldn't seem to pay attention. In any case, there was a vague churning sensation in her stomach that gave her the idea that candy was not the best idea right now. She was glad when the clock on the wall of the Three Broomsticks, where they had finally ended up, read quarter of eleven, and she could excuse herself.

"Oh, are you going to - ?" Ginny asked, her eyes round with anticipation. Hermione nodded, and Ginny squeezed her hand. "Good luck! It'll be over before you know it! And remember you have to tell me everything. Now go, or you'll be late!"

Hermione went, saying her goodbyes to Ginny and a slightly confused-looking Neville. Once outside, she took several deep breaths of the crisp autumn air – it really was a gorgeous day – and tried to still herself. By this time the feeling in her stomach had spread to produce a restless unease in most of her body, and it was all she could do not to break out into a run – in which direction she wasn't quite sure. However, Hermione Granger was not one to run from a problem, so she took one more breath and headed determinedly down the road to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop.

A bell tinkled as she pushed open the door of the quaint little tea shop. She crossed the threshold and the door swung shut behind her with another tinkle and a muted thump, and it was as though she had left all her nerves on the other side, cut off from her now by the door. The unease drained out of her limbs, and her mind cleared entirely for what seemed like the first time that day. She was here now, and there was nothing more she could do. It was time to do this thing, and get it done. She remarked coolly that this was the same thing that happened to her with a big exam – all the nerves were transformed into a calm focus on the task ahead.

Another step into the tea shop allowed her to scan the place for signs of Pansy, who should be meeting her there, if the note was to be believed. Hermione batted away the idea that this might have all been some kind of elaborate set-up. Of course it wasn't. The room was populated with a scattering of couples, but the cherubs that Harry had mentioned seeing on his last visit were thankfully absent. Perhaps they were a special Valentine's day feature only. None of the couples appeared to contain Pansy, however, and Hermione was just casting a Tempus charm (it was six minutes to eleven; she must have been walking very fast indeed) when Pansy materialized at her shoulder.

"Oh, you're early!" Pansy smiled. "I got us a table already."

Hermione smiled back and followed Pansy to a table that was set in one of the many random corners that the odd-shaped room seemed to containl, and partially shielded from the rest of the room by a large artificial plant with artificial bluebirds flitting around the leafy branches.

"Oh, no wonder why I didn't see you sooner," Hermione commented as she sat down, looking around. "Cozy, isn't it?"

Pansy grinned as she took the other seat. "I thought it would be nice if we didn't have half the students of Hogwarts coming in and staring at us the whole time we're here."

Hermione nodded agreement, and then backed up her chair surreptitiously, hoping Pansy wouldn't notice. The round table was truly tiny, and with both of the chairs pushed in all the way there was a very real danger of bumping knees. Pansy caught her doing it, though, and then, to Hermione's infinite surprise, pushed her own chair out a couple of inches. And then opened the frilly menu lying on the table and began to consult it as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"What're you having?" Pansy said, presently.

"Oh, just tea, I thought." Hermione said a bit uncertainly.

Pansy looked up from her menu. "I thought we might have an early lunch instead – I mean, tea is so quick, and we'd have to eat after anyway." She smiled innocently. "Unless you're really not hungry, or have somewhere to be later –"

"No, I don't have anywhere to be. Early lunch would be fine." Hermione smiled back, and turned to her own menu.

After some deliberation, they agreed to share an assorted platter of sandwiches, and Hermione ordered a salad for herself, to accompany the sandwiches. On cue, a waitress decked in a completely ridiculous pink-and-blue frilly outfit slid past the plant with a tray of tea things, which Pansy had obviously ordered before Hermione arrived, and began setting them out. After they were set, she pulled out a petit wand and vanished the tray, and took their orders in an entirely too-cheerful way, before disappearing behind the plant herself. Hermione was beginning to see how this place could grate on one's nerves, but at least it was a nice change from the Three Broomsticks. And she didn't mind the privacy.

Pansy picked up her cup and sipped it unhurriedly. Hermione did the same, and then noticed the untouched milk and sugar dishes on the table. "You don't like anything in your tea?"

"No," said Pansy, taking another sip. "I usually like it black."

"Me too," said Hermione, and then felt foolish about the obviousness of her remark. Would she have been drinking it that way if she didn't like it?

Silence fell. Hermione had the feeling that Pansy was looking at her, but kept her eyes riveted on the tea in her cup. Somehow engaging in a staring contest across a crowded room was entirely different from gazing into one another's eyes across a tiny table in a tea shop.

Hermione picked up the delicately filigreed teaspoon that was sitting at her place and stirred her tea. The silence grew longer. She selected an equally delicate-looking biscuit from the china plate that the waitress had left them, and slowly chewed it, in silence. Pansy, for her part, seemed perfectly content to just sip her tea and watch Hermione from across the table.

Finally growing frustrated, Hermione took a stab at starting conversation. "So, how was your summer?"

"It was pretty good, all things considered. How was yours?" Pansy's tone was cordial. Hermione felt that they were just playing at being on a date, and that no one had told her her role ahead of time. Or that Pansy had started the game, and was just humoring her while Hermione figured out the rules.

"It was nice," said Hermione. She wanted to ask what the "things considered" were that had kept Pansy's summer from being unreservedly good, but she felt it was most tactful to stay away from it. If Ginny was right, then the Parkinsons were probably involved with Voldemort somehow, and the last thing she needed was to bring up something so politically touchy. Hermione thought it would be best to keep things simple.

Silence fell again, though it apparently did not discomfort Pansy in the slightest. She was regarding Hermione with faintly amused interest again.

"So, did you, uh... go anywhere – interesting, over the summer?" Hermione told herself to stop starting sentences with 'so;' it sounded stilted and awkward.

"No," she said, and Hermione was afraid that silence was going to overtake them once again, but then she continued. "I mean, not really. We did go somewhere – we always take a holiday – but it wasn't interesting."

"Oh?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Poland," Pansy volunteered in a disdainful tone, as if this explained everything.

"Do you have relatives there?"

"Not exactly – some distant relatives of my mother's left her a country house there, so she thinks it's the perfect place to holiday. Even though it's deadly dull, actually." Pansy wrinkled her nose. "I mean, it's in the middle of nowhere. The nearest town is like, five miles away, and there's nothing in it. Just muggles. And the muggles don't have anything interesting there, either. And I don't speak Polish."

Hermione giggled despite herself. "That does sound kind of dreadful," she agreed, trying and succeeding to fight down another giggle. "I mean, that's – I'm sorry you had to deal with it. My parents decided not to take a family holiday this summer; they wanted a second honeymoon." Pansy's eyes, (which from this distance looked like a shade of murky hazel, Hermione noticed), took on an envious glint. Hermione continued, "And they sent me to arts camp while they were away, as though I were still a little child. I mean, honestly. Well, it was technically a residential summer arts program at the university, but still – just because it was the only one happening when they wanted to go doesn't mean it was a good idea to leave me there. They could have let me stay at home. At least it wasn't theater camp…" Hermione trailed off. "Sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you all of this."

"I don't mind! I would have loved to go to an arts program," said Pansy with a smile and another flash of envy that was quickly hidden. "But my parents would never let me do anything like that, so…"

Hermione quickly interpreted "something like that" with "something muggle", but still couldn't reconcile her own image of Pansy with someone who longed to spend weeks at a time among muggles, doing pointless art and 'team-building exercises'. She was about to say so, when the waitress sidled up from around the plant again and started clearing the tea things off their table, replacing them with their lunch. She distributed the various plates, seeing fit to name each one in a simpering voice as she did so. By the time she had gone, the thread of the conversation had been quite thoroughly lost.

Pansy picked up the silver tongs that came with the sandwiches and started serving herself some. They were all very tiny, cut into fanciful shapes, and seemed to be composed of varying kinds of pâtés garnished with frilly greens, on varying colors of bread. Pansy stopped when she had six or seven on her plate, and began to eat. Hermione took the cue and tucked into her dainty plate of salad, hoping that Pansy would be the one restart the conversation this time. After all, she had been the one to ask Hermione out. The silence was so annoying, though, and it was begging to be filled...

Before she had a chance to exercise restraint, however, Hermione's mouth seemed to take over for her, and between bites of salad, she blurted out, "Did the women in your family really have a dark gift? I read that they did, and –" Hermione stopped, mortified. Why, of all the things she could have said, had her mouth chosen this?

But Pansy looked up and smiled a smile that was very nearly a smirk. "Where did you read that?"

Hermione blushed, and recited the name of the book.

"Hmmmm…and it said we had some dark gift?" She inflected had and dark as though the words contained some subtle irony.

Hermione nodded. Pansy grinned. "Well, they weren't right at all, then – it's not really dark, and we still have it…" Her voice dropped even lower. "Want to see?"

Hermione found herself leaning across her plate and speaking in the same hushed tone. "Really?"

Pansy nodded, and pushed her sleeve up almost ceremoniously. "Look," she said, and dropped her gaze to the hand she was holding out, palm up. Hermione didn't notice anything different at first, but then she saw it. What looked like small, translucent black flames were licking Pansy's fingertips, and as she watched, they grew, and began spreading down her fingers, leaving a darkly shining film of the flam-like substance on her skin in their wake. Pansy grinned and snapped her hand shut before the flames reached her palm, and Hermione fancied she could see them evaporating back into Pansy's skin like smoke. When she opened her fist, they had been extinguished without a trace.

"That – that was wandless magic!" was all Hermione could think to say.

Pansy nodded, looking immensely smug and self-satisfied. "Yeah. And they only said it was dark because of the way that it looks; it's really not. And it's not even always black; my mom's is sort of goldeny-brown - it just depends on your complexion. Just don't tell anyone about it though, ok? No one here knows that it even exists." Pansy had dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Yeah, of course I won't," Hermione agreed. She wanted to ask where it had come from, and what it was for, and how it worked, and what it did, and a million other questions, but she felt this would be overstepping some invisible line. Pansy had already been generous enough to show her, after all, after Hermione had so clumsily broached the subject. And for all she knew it might lead her back to more dangerous subjects, which she wanted to avoid.

"So how do you like your classes so far?"

Pansy's abrupt subject change, coupled by the fact that Pansy had actually brought up a topic for the first time that morning, startled Hermione out of her thoughts.

"Oh, they're really good so far – I'm going on with everything except Care of Magical Creatures, and honestly, I couldn't pick a favorite…"

Pansy provided to be an avid listener, nodding and smiling and asking encouraging questions at all the right places, and Hermione felt herself growing increasingly at ease. So far, aside from some awkward silence at the beginning, it really hadn't been bad at all. In fact, Hermione was, against all expectation, enjoying herself.

She finished off her salad – which had been dressed in a rather tasty but too-sweet blackberry vinaigrette – and started in on what looked like a golden sandwich with purple lettuce, all the while chatting amiably with Pansy. They talked about classes, professors, O.W.L.'s – simple things, really, but Pansy turned out to be very easy to talk with when she wasn't fixed on playing staring games.

They got more tea when their lunch was gone, and Pansy suggested they get some dessert, to go with it. Hermione found herself laughing at the other girl's remarks, and no longer worrying about whether she was saying too much, or not enough, or the wrong thing. Hermione realized with a start that at some point, without her noticing, they had stopped playing the "on a date" game, and started talking like actual friends.

They had finished their tea and their desserts were reduced to crumbs when Pansy interrupted Hermione's story about the first time she brought Crookshanks home, to the detriment of all of her mother's potted plants, and a great portion of a new carpet as well.

"Hang on," she said, still with the edge of a laugh in her voice. "I have to check the time."

"Meeting someone later?" Hermione asked, checking the time herself.

"Yeah." Pansy looked apologetic. "You don't mind? I don't absolutely have to go –"

"No, it's fine, really," Hermione reassured her. "My friends are probably starting to wonder too; we have been here more than two hours. Let's just get the check."

At this, the waitress slid up, and Hermione wondered how she kept doing that. Some kind of listening charm, like the extendable ear, perhaps?

Hermione reached for the check, but Pansy grabbed her hand and stopped her.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Um, paying for my part?" Hermione tried to shift her hand out of under Pansy's so that she could read the bill.

Pansy let go of her hand, but managed to snag the bill. She was smirking again. "What makes you think you get to pay? I'm the one who asked you out, after all. Traditionally, that means I expected to pay."

"That's not fair, though, I got more than you!" Hermione protested. "I ordered salad, and you didn't – if I had known you were going to try something like this, I wouldn't have –"

"Don't be silly." Pansy's tone was teasing, but very firm. "I insist. Splitting the bill is for third years, and similarly unrefined folk. And if I didn't want to pay for salad, I would have let you know when you were ordering it."

"But I-" Hermione started, but Pansy raised an eyebrow. "Fine!" Hermione exclaimed. This whole thing was beginning to feel absurd. "You can pay for both of us if it's so important to you. But it means that I'll have to pay next time; otherwise it won't be fair." She didn't even realize what she had said until the slow grin began spreading across Pansy's face.

"That sounds fair enough to me, Granger." And she withdrew a small drawstring sack from somewhere in her robes and placed a few coins from it on the bill. Hermione was frozen. What had she just said? Next time? She nervously wondered what she had meant and if it was too late to take it back. But no – that would just sound wrong. "Oh, actually, Pansy, there won't be a next time – I just misspoke. Sorry!" No, that would never do. She had as good as asked Pansy out, and she would have to go through with it. Why wasn't this the first time she had found her self in such a position?

"Shall we?" Pansy stood, still smiling widely. Hermione stood too, her legs feeling a little weak (from sitting for so long, she told herself. Not because she had just asked someone – Pansy! – out), and accompanied her out of the shop.

They seemed to be headed back in the same direction, and walked together in a somewhat tense silence down the road toward the center of town. Well, tense on Hermione's part; she had a lot on her mind – Pansy seemed to be perfectly at ease, as usual.

At length, they reached the door of the Three Broomsticks pub, and Pansy stopped. "Well, this is where I go in."

"Bye," said Hermione. "Thanks for the lunch, it was lovely, and all." She realized that it wasn't difficult to sound sincere; she really did mean it.

Pansy, however, did not move; she seemed to be waiting for something. Hermione shifted between her feet and wished she knew what. Previous dating experience would probably really come in handy, here.

After a moment or two of watching Hermione fidget with a half-smile playing on her face, Pansy spoke up. "Aren't you going to kiss me?"

"You- me– what?" Hermione exclaimed, emitting a nervous giggle.

"Yes," drawled Pansy. "That is generally what people do at the end of dates, if I'm not vastly mistaken."

Maybe it was only her pent-up nerves from earlier finally seeking release, but Hermione was feeling reckless. Oh, what the hell, she muttered to herself (or possibly aloud), and she glanced up and down the street quickly. Serendipitously, it was empty except for a group of students a few shops down, walking away from where the girls were standing. Before she could lose her nerve, Hermione darted in and planted a quick, dry kiss on Pansy's left cheek. Except that, just at that moment, Pansy's head turned to the left, and Hermione's kiss landed on her lips instead of her cheek.

It was more of a clumsy collision than a kiss though, and lasted all of a few instants before Hermione jerked back and turned red in the face. She was absolutely certain that that hadn't been an accident on Pansy's part.

"I – have to go now!" she said, her voice coming out rather higher and more breathy than she was used to. And without further excuse she rushed past Pansy and up the road to Hogwarts, walking very fast. Neville and Ginny would wonder when she didn't return to meet them, but she could tell them later that she hadn't been feeling well, or something. They would understand. Right now, she needed to get away; she needed some space, and she needed to think.