Now it's come! It's really neat
A fic so long is a great feat
At least for me (so all you know
By chapter two I usually go…)
But here I am, the fic on loan
There are no claims to this my own
My rhyming is getting continuously worse, but feel free to stick around… I'm experimenting with several ways to make the writing interesting (the letters, I have noticed, are a great deal of joy to the reviewers), so I will adapt around, scootch things about. Eventually (I almost promise), I will have a character assessment for Draco in regards of Pansy… Also, In Regards To Blaise Zabini: Yes, I know book six said he was of a different description than the one I have in here. It's called Author Leniency, so I'm following the wonder Ms. Inell's description of Master Zabini; Italian it is!
-Achi
Epiphany
By: Achicagoil
Rated: PG-13 or whatnot
Chapter Two: Revenge, and Synonyms Thereof
Revenge. To some, such as the strong-willed and close to heart, revenge is merely a toy, a false means of correcting another's behavior to make thyself feel corrected. However, in the right hands, revenge becomes an art of deception, sneakiness, and looking innocent to all others around. The key is to retribution is to stay simple and to get others to perform any dirty work. Plotting and planning is all good and fun, but when it comes to acting out, it is better to remain free from the area. Let others take the blame, should they be discovered, which leads to the other aspect of picking somebody incognito to do the work for thyself. A fox in the chicken coop is easily discovered, but the wolf in sheep's clothing gets away with its dinner.
The first step to creating your plan is assessing the character of those who have wronged. Watch them from a distance, attempt to act normal, and learn about their personalities. It does no good to leave a snake in the bed only to learn it will become a beloved pet in the future. Another assessment is to figure out how truly wronged thou art. A doorway to returned revenge opens when thy own over-does it; A Gryffindor will understand something squishy left between the sheets for knocking you over, but a near death experience due to thy planning will awake the Slytherin in them as well.
Remember. Keep it simple, keep it innocent, and keep it normal. Perceptive people will notice if thy personality starts to act differently and will begin asking questions.
If Pansy's personality changes baffled any besides Draco, they quickly learned to keep mouths shut, eyes averted, and to meekly nod heads in agreement; along with her tolerance to those around her came an almost supernatural wand reaction and a promised hex to any who vexed her. Those who reacted the most to her newfound studious intellect were the ones whom she itched to cast a silencing charm upon but could not: her professors.
Professor Binns did not care that her writing style had improved, her research skills developed, and that her handwriting appeared the same, but more legible and smaller than usual. No longer was Pansy taking half a foot of parchment to write an opening paragraph to an essay. However, McGryffindor (the ungainly name developed for the harsh transfigurations professor by the Slytherins), Sprout, Vector, Flitwick, and Snape had noticed the change with skeptical eyes and raised eyebrows. Some more than others; Pansy was not sure which she disliked more, the set-aside, after class discussions on "cheating-is-bad-if-you-get-caught-I-will-fail-you" or the pursed lips and eye-to-eye contact when handing back an essay covered in red grading marks.
Currently, Professor Snape hovered over her as she attempted to Slice-'N-Smash her manticore vertebrae. She looked up, mentally screaming at him for casting her work area in shadow. "Is there a problem, Professor?" Pansy asked, mentally adding, 'besides your frantic hovering of a Mother Hen, knowing her child has done wrong?' He narrowed his eyes even more. 'Right. Up with the reading of my thoughts. That's subtle.'
He handed back an essay she had completed the Friday after first acquiring the self-help book from the library, a tedious piece about the distinguishing differences between a wolf's hair and the hair of a werewolf during a full moon (the easiest ways being: A. Collecting the hair yourself, or B. Taking what you have and praying to your deities that the collector wasn't trying to pull off a fake). On it, in bright red letters, was an "80" and a "See me after class." Inside, Pansy seethed. She had worked wearisome hours on the essay though out the week, gaining suspicious glances from her fellow housemates; normally, when a Slytherin spent too many hours in the library, something deliciously nasty and no doubt newly-researched ended up happening to those who had wronged the annoyed castor. The second years were even replying to comments towards them with a "yes, ma'am," and it got aggravating.
Draco glanced at her essay through the corner of her eye, reading the introductory paragraph. He raised a blonde eyebrow, forgetting to mask his disinterest. Pansy's writing style had gone from spelling errors and tense-confusion to carefully crafted sentences and an advanced understanding of diction. Pansy had even used "exigent" in correct context. He turned to look at Snape, his mentor over the past six years and smirked. The Potions Master was gritting his teeth in masked aggravation, the look of a pained adult in reaction to a matter out of their hands. For years, Snape had quietly taken whatever his Slytherin students had thrown at him with little anger, and in turn, treated the other houses with the leashed frustration he had at his own. Clearly, he was trying to compose a way to get through Pansy's hairspray and into her brain to inform the girl of a Slytherin's sneaky tactics. Turning his attention away from the professor, Draco attempted to figure out where her line of vision led her.
Ah, yes. Weasley and Commander-In-Chief Potter. The two were quietly banging their heads together in a Gryffindor's attempt at making a decent potion, combining their minds to complete a full brain cell. Draco now furrowed his eyebrows, getting suspicious. Why would Pansy fix the two with her full concentration, such as she was now, potion fully completed and sitting in a bottle on her workspace. What might be so interesting as to her bold gazing at the two idiots in the corner? Wasn't she supposed to be fixing him with a look like that? As inconspicuously as possible, Draco nudged her with an elbow, acting as innocent as a Slytherin could.
"Mind your own business," Pansy hissed, her eyes never leaving Potter and Weasley. An animalistic smirk lit her face and she turned to Draco. "They have quite a thing coming to them, let me tell you."
The bell to announce lunch rang, relieving the room from the double-potions cession Dumbledore loved to schedule first thing in the morning. "What might that be?" Draco wanted to know, voice one of falsetto nonchalance as he picked up his belongings and shoved them in his bag.
Pansy flashed him her most glucose-filled smile, one that would make the Honeydukes founders jealous. "Me, of course. What else would I be offering them?" She turned quickly and headed for Snape's office, leaving a stunned Draco in her wake.
"I am highly disappointed with you, in retrospect to your Slytherin qualities," Snape informed her from his desk, hands and fingers steepled together and eyes on her in hopes of intimidation. "A Hufflepuff has more craftiness than that essay you turned in."
Pansy leaned against the doorframe. "There was nothing sneaky about that essay, Professor," she replied, voice even and false understanding only coming across as sarcastic. "The only sneaky thing I sense is this eighty percent when you know this is Hermione Granger quality."
"Exactly the reason I deducted twenty percent, Ms. Parkinson," Snape replied, just as evenly and with the same tone.
"Because I dared live up to the expectations set for the Head Girl? Is this some of your Gryffindor hate coming across to the more intelligent of the class?" she wanted to know, ready to debate.
"No. Because, while this is Ms. Granger quality, it is not Ms. Parkinson quality. 'While the effects of either specimen of fur have diminutive to no differences by sight, the effects of an erroneous hair placed in a potion may be fatal, as seen in 1763 when Gaillardia the Golden mistook the hair of a lycanthropic homo sapiens during a full moon for that of North America's common gray wolf. The Ministry of Magic used this paradigm as a means for stringent enforcement of the Potions Market Act (1254) and Gaillardia the Golden's remains may be found, preserved in a jelly jar, at the St. Mungos ward for severe potions accidents as a reminder for constant vigilance,'" Snape recited from memory, a portion of her fifth paragraph. "Pansy Parkinson material would have been, oh, 'Have somebody else make the potion for you so if they blow up, you know it's the wrong hair and may locate the correct thing.'"
Pansy nodded solemnly. "Yes. That would have been Pansy Parkinson material."
"Would have been? Or is?" Snape wanted to know.
Complete realization dawned upon Pansy and she let out a cold bark of laughter. "You think I copied this off of somebody and didn't even bother trying to hide it!" she cackled. "You didn't remove points for quality, you removed points because I didn't live up to the sneaky Slytherin expectations." Pansy crossed the room and bent to eyelevel with the professor. "Professor Snape," she stated, making direct eye contact with him. "I solemnly swear on an honorable person's honor that I wrote that essay myself, every single erased blotch and errant quill drippings my own. You may ask Madame Pince as to my whereabouts, although I doubt she would recognize me by name. I've become 'The Slytherin Girl' to her, the one who always ends up in the Restricted Section by 'accident' for some reason." Pansy placed a falsely innocent look on her face. "'Please, Ma'am, I'm new to this library thing. I usually have others assist me in the note-taking department. I didn't even realize this was the Restricted Section. I swear, next time, I'll have a pass.'"
Snape met her gaze equally. "I may consider giving some of those essay points back in lieu for your excellent lying skills, Ms. Parkinson. If you wrote this paper like you said you did, do tell me where the sudden change in personality came from? I'm curious, as the old Ms. Parkinson had poor grammatical understanding, even shoddier spelling, and extreme difficulty in picking a tense and sticking with it. That essay even had correctly sited footnotes, which you know I do not require from my students on homework essays."
"You don't require them from your Slytherin students on homework essays. I've heard the complaints from the slacker-portion of Dumbledore's Golden Trio of inequality. I'm sure the Lion-Huggers amongst the staff make up for it. Anywho, the essay was mine," Pansy corrected, becoming earnest in her argument. "I recently picked up a self-help book from the library that's helping me finesse my better points. And correct my not-so-better ones. Please tell me you've noticed a difference?" Her last sentence came across as more of a question to Snape. He arched an eyebrow. A self-help book sounded more logical than it didn't, but an over-night change in study habits still did not make sense.
"I have noticed that the Hufflepuffs no longer require censorship when in your presence," Snape admitted. Pansy beamed. "And I also noticed your keen attention to the two-third part of the Gryffindor trio. Why your attention is heading to that direction neither do I know nor do I care to know, but might I suggest a warning that both Ms. Weasley and Ms. Granger will not appreciate getting double-crossed? I would hate to have to collect your pieces to owl back to your parents in an envelope. Jasper has a bit of a temper."
Pansy now smirked to his questioning. "Ms. Weasley and Ms. Granger do not have to worry about getting double-crossed, Professor. You know I have higher standards than that." She ignored Snape's following cough that roughly sounded like "Draco". "However, I believe McGryffindor will be the one picking up pieces of people when I'm through. I have a bit of a grudge with He-Who-Still-Survives and His-Sidekick so I'm following a bit of advice lent to me from my self-help book. Before you give me a warning about the warnings I will get for committing evil deeds, I'll remain wonderfully anonymous. No worries for the Pansy Parkinson department, Professor. Now, if you excuse me, I have things to see, people to hex, and chicken pot pie to eat."
Snape watched her depart, shaking his head slowly. He'd need a headache potion before the day was through. He just knew it.
The second step of revenge is to begin planning. Knowledge has been carefully crafted of the pitiful parties and the planning is what leads to the third and final step, which is acting it out (although, a cunning Planner never does the action unless absolutely necessary, the same way a politician never does the killing but his assassin does). Remember the most important rule: keep it simple. A simple plan works just as well at revenge as a difficult one, but a simple plan is more likely to run smoothly and not backfire in the face. Oftentimes, making a plan with backup options is also a good idea; should something go wrong (Murphy's Law never gives leeway), a backup to the same solution is handy, the exact way alternate routes are.
Once planning is completed, the third stage comes. Action. Action on thy revenge can be more difficult than the other steps, only because this is the part that thy control no longer reigns over. Anything can happen once the action begins.
The main goal for the third step is getting others to do thy dirty work. Blackmail, begging, and bribes work nicely. Always employ underlings, but never give somebody enough of the work that his or her little brain will be able to work off the details. Make it so that questioning never ends with one person. A nosey underling is one that does not have the entire mind on the given task.
When action is carried out, it's better that thy acting skills are decent. If others are apt to gasp at the reaction, don't forget gasp as well; the wolf in sheep's clothing will be discovered if he forgets to cover the back of his neck as well. Act surprised, amused, confused, whatever the others around thyself are acting. Just don't be close enough to the scene that suspicious eyes are turned to thy head.
Breakfast on Halloween had been a decent affair. So had lunch. But as for Halloween dinner, Pansy felt there were more bats in her stomach than hanging from the Great Hall ceiling. She wasn't nervous, per say, but she was anxious. Weeks had been spent towards this single evening. Father had not been happy when Pansy had asked for an increase in her weekly allowance (bribes did not come cheap within Slytherin House, and Pansy didn't trust to go outside of it) until she had sent him a copy of her first hundred on a Transfigurations test. Pansy suspected her mother had acted upon the increase of galleons and the new Silence Stage her father was in, but she knew better than to question one of Fate's positive changes in life.
Gryffindor table sat at her back, Pansy facing the closest wall of the hall. Blaise, her readily-agreeing lookout slowly nodded at her, forgetting the spoonful of mashed potatoes he had halfway to his mouth. A smile leisurely curled upon his Italian features and his dark eyes met hers in pure, childish glee at a prank gone right. From across the hall, loud voices and an angry yell were all Pansy needed to know that her plan had gone as, well, planned.
Along with every other student and teacher in the hall, Pansy twisted uncomfortably and raised her chin for a better look at the far table. It wasn't needed, as both occupants her attention would be on had jumped up from their seats, each staring incredulously at the other. Along with the rest of Slytherin house, Pansy threw her head back in laughter, although her reasoning might have been different from the others' obvious glee at the humiliation.
Even several teachers were laughing. Snape met her eyes, self-satisfied smirk upon his face. Pansy's Cheshire grin was his only reply.
Mission: Successful.
A letter from Ginevra Weasley to Hermione Granger
Ginny, to: Hermione
Topic: HA!
The Library
Hogwarts
That was absolutely excellent! Do you think she's the reasoning behind it? Because it might explain the looks from across the room she's been giving Harry and Ron. Don't think that I hadn't noticed them. I'll just say this: I'm ultimately jealous. It's not fair that my boyfriend has a bigger bra size than I do.
-G
A letter from Hermione Granger to Ginevra Weasley
Hermione, to: Ginny
RE: HA!
A bloody broomstick
The Quidditch Pitch
Serves them right; I'm almost absolutely sure it was she, though. The book does have a section on revenge and how to get it. I think it's more amusing to watch Malfoy glare at her when she talks to any member of the opposite sex, though. One moment, he can't get far enough away from her and he doesn't care who knows it. The next, he's practically licking her Mary Janes to keep her off of Zabini. Just as long as she stays away from Ron. It might be best not to inform the boys of our knowledge, though. Madame Pomfrey says that as soon as their monthlies disappear, they should slowly revert to normal. Not that I'm worried for her, or anything, but this whole process starts over again if they decide THEY want back at her.
Anyway. It's nice that we get blame their attitudes on "that time of month" for a change, not vice versa, am I right?
-Hermione
A letter from Ginevra Weasley to Hermione Granger
Ginny, to: Hermione
RE: RE: HA!
Lost in a book
Same place as usual
Can't we even congratulate her or anything? Just a little bit? I mean, it's not every day you get a new HERO, Hermione. Mom will be tickled Tickle-Me-Neon-Pink over this. Ron's forbidden me to write her, so I'm headed up the owlry later to mail her letter. Ronnikins is not going to be happy over this one.
On another note. You know what irony is?
Irony is Harry Bloody Potter never letting me use the cramps excuse out of Quidditch practice, but guess where he is right this moment. Perhaps I'll get more sympathy now. Or at least more chocolate.
-G
A portion of a letter from Molly Weasley to her son
Mother, to: Ron
Topic: Your sister
Gryffindor Commons
Hogwarts
Ginny told me about your unfortunate incident on Halloween, Ron, dear, and I can't help but feel slightly self-righteous about the entire deal. Raising so many boys and only one girl, poor Ginny hasn't got an entire lot of slack from you lot, especially around her monthlies. I believe you told her once to "Hang up and get over it," with those gut-wrenching cramps the Weasley-women are known for getting. I suppose "a taste of your own medicine" would be redundant, so I'll skip by it and suggest Honeydukes medical chocolate to help the work of the cramps and a minor heating charm with whatever's left over. No doubt your breasts will begin shrinking in time for the Gryff-Slyth game, but in case that they don't, I'd suggest heavy padding. Those oafs they have with the beaterbats will know exactly where to aim the bludgers and a chest is an easier target than between the legs. Especially when on a broom…
A howler from Molly Weasley to her son
YOUR MOTHER, TO: RONALD WEASLEY
Topic: YOUR LANGUAGE
Great Hall, breakfast
Hogwarts
YOU ARE TO WATCH WHAT LANGUAGE YOU LET LOSE AROUND THE PROFESSORS, YOUNG MAN! IF YOUR FATHER HAD GOTTEN THAT REPORT FROM PROFESSOR MCGONNAGAL INSTEAD OF ME, YOU WOULD HAVE GOTTEN MORE THAN THIS HOWLER. YOU DO NOT SPEAK TO YOUR SISTER IN THAT TONE, WITH THAT LANGUAGE, NO MATTER WHAT SHE DOES OR HOW YOU ARE FEELING. WEASLEY WOMEN HAVE DEALT WITH THE MENSTRUAL CYCLE FOR YEARS. SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND TAKE IT LIKE A MAN.
GINNY, SHOULD HE EVER TURN ON YOU LIKE THAT AGAIN, DON'T BE AFRAID TO SEND ME A LETTER. I'LL BE MORE THAN HAPPY TO DEAL WITH YOUR BROTHER IN A TIVVY.
LOVE, MOTHER
A letter from Fred, then George, Weasley to their youngest brother
Gred and Feorge, to: Ron Weasley
Gryffindor commons
Hogwarts
Excellent, little brother. We didn't know you had it in you, but George and I have been rolling in tears all afternoon. You've even inspired our newest product, another snackbox, although the details will be extremely familiar to what you're experiencing now. But I think George has wet himself. He's got a giant wet spot on the front of his trousers now.
-Have not
Have too!
-Only because you let lose one of those water tornadoes! I'm wet everywhere else now, too, stupid lummox
Ignore the man behind the curtain. In the meantime, keep up the good work. Eventually, we'll be proud enough of you to forget you were made a prefect and call you "Brother" again.
-Note he said "eventually." Being made 'prefect' calls for a longer than usual 'eventually,' you know. Send our love to Ginny and make a point to snicker at Harry for us, as well.
-George
And Fred
A letter from Jasper Parkinson to his daughter
Father, to: Pansy
Slytherin commons
Hogwarts
I am very proud of you, young lady.
-Father
------------------------
Yay! Longer than usual, eh? I was having fun writing letters from the Weasley family to Ron. Make a note that congratulation from Jasper is few and far between… Pansy's succeeding greatly, but how long will her happiness (and cluelessness) with the book last?
I thank all who reviewed… You guys have no idea how happy it is for me to see email from or whatever the hell it is from a happy reviewer. One person (I'm sorry I'm abysmal with names) commented that "sewing my Hogwarts robes" seemed extreme. I didn't exactly sew them from scratch. I took an old Scream costume and cut it up and hemmed what I mutilated with scissors (IE: The sleeves and the cut down the middle). I find weird projects like that; I have an "I support co-ed naked Quidditch" cross-stitch sign hanging in my room with Stickfigure!Harry the artist of Wizzards would be proud of.
I'll be back soon(?), depending on how fast I can read Heart of Darkness before school starts for me on the fourth. Senior year, yay!