A/N: It's the first day of classes and Pansy Parkinson's mood could not be worse. Draco is a prick, Potter is insufferable, and apparently Dumbledore is using a damn potions classroom to practice his preachings of house unity. Whatever that means. She had more important things to worry about - like what in Merlin's beard is wrong with her?

September 2nd, 1996 (morning)

Pansy woke up sore, bitter, angry, and with a head full of pain. Still, she rubbed the crust and fatigue from her eyes and prepared herself for the day. There was no point in rushing for a pathetically short breakfast, and so she merely took her time as she carefully showered, brushed her hair, put on her school uniform, and prepared her things. For the first time in her life, Pansy was actually thankful for her hangover. The dull, throbbing pain at the base of her skull took her attention from the deep sense of agony that grew within her. A dry tongue, unending headache, and tired limbs were a small price to pay to ignore the heavy feeling wearing down her very bones.

It was with that heaviness that she dragged herself to her first class. Pansy nearly groaned out loud as she ventured through the dungeons. She had broken her own role last night. She got so wrapped up in the sex with Draco that she forgot that it meant nothing - or it was supposed to meet nothing. But she, like the idiot little girl she had been years before, got carried away. So carried away that she had thought that maybe they could fall in love again, and she thought that ludicrous idea right up until the moment she cried herself to sleep.

But Pansy still put one foot in front of the other and made the heavy march towards her eight-thirty class. After suffering through a miserable Transfiguration, she put on a purposefully bored expression and steeled her nerves as she slowly walked to her next class, also a few minutes late, and set her eyes directly on Draco.

"It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, Amortentia will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room - ah, Miss Parkinson, is it?"

Slughorn's blooming voice was loudly heard from the corridor and Pansy acknowledged her new professor with a silent nod even as she remained focused on Draco. She also ignored the snickers and the stares from her classmates, a common occurrence for the so-called Bitch of Slytherin and she has long since learned to let it all roll over her as well as deliver back a scathing insult with double the malice.

"Well yes, welcome, then.

"Now, what- what was I saying? Ah yes, Amortentia. We will study it more depth later this semester. Now, when you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love-"

"Potter's captain of the Gryffindor team," he said as a preamble as she seated herself next to him. She held back an eye roll because after years of knowing each other Draco Malfoy was still convinced that she gave a fuck about Quidditch. Though she supposed it was her own fault; as a young girl she cheered herself into a frenzy each and every game he played in, and though her interest at the time was spurred by the fact that she fancied him to bits, he was still convinced she cared after hundreds of scoffs and eye-rolls.

"Really?" she drawled, reaching into her knapsack and pulling out her supplies. It was the first class and she doubted more than a single sheet of parchment and quill would be needed.

"Practically showed off his shiny badge to the entire Great Hall," he whispered in reply as he shot daggers to the back his rival's neck. "Bragging as if his mummy and daddy could hear him from beyond the - wait. Where were you during breakfast?"

"Oh, you noticed?" she hissed back. Leave it to Draco to completely overlook the importance of their first night back together after spending the entire summer apart.

Not that it actually mattered of course, she told herself.

"Don't get pissy," he said in a bored tone as he shared a glance with Theo, who in return shot a sympathetic one with her. "Maybe, I was too busy to notice-"

"Not busy enough for Prince Potter, apparently."

Pansy was seething, and the most angering part was she had no idea why. It wasn't like Draco to ignore her, toss her aside, pretend as if her feelings were irrelevant; he was a callous bastard and she liked that about him because when he did act like he cared, his actions mattered so much more. But she was frustrated now, and angry, and scornful and… and-

Fucking miserable, that was it. She scowled, this time feeling grimace to the very core. So deeply, in fact, she almost worried that her face would freeze this way.

"What is wrong with-" but just as soon as Draco started, Slughorn seemingly had had enough.

"Now, you three back there- that's enough of that-"

Slughorn's voice rang through the large dungeon classroom. While Pansy and Draco dutifully stared back silently with exaggeratedly rueful looks, Theo's jaw dropped incredulously and Pansy could see Draco holding back a snicker. "Pay attention, now. Right, as the lovely Miss Granger so marvelously explained to us, yes, Felix Felicis otherwise known as liquid luck and it can make anyone who ingests it quite lucky indeed. We won't be learning to brew it in this class- oh, no-" Slughorn shook his head at Ernie Macmillan, whose face visibly perked at the mention of the potion's properties. In fact, even Draco looked more interested than usual, causing Theo to give him a curious look. "No, Felix Felicis is desperately tricky to make and disastrous is done incorrectly. If brew properly, however, this funny little potion will cause most of your endeavors to end in your favor until the effects wear off..."

As is her want, Pansy's focus on Sughorn's lecture waxed and waned until she found herself mentally in an entirely different space. Incidentally, her mind brought her back to the night before and the time she spent with Draco. Though he was irrationally getting on her last nerve at the moment, she couldn't shake the feeling of his body rocking against hers. Even through the haze that the whisky put her in, her body reacted as it always has when he was deep inside her; desperately and urgently, as if she were dying from a thirst only he could quench. Pansy's toes curled in her low-heeled Mary Janes as she slightly though unconsciously twisted in her seat, trying to find the same sort of comfort on the wooden stool that she found straddling Draco last night. She hadn't realized before how much her body needed his after being starved for an entire summer. Even as her thoughts brought her momentary happiness, she couldn't ignore the clenching of her heart as she felt his heat next to her; so close, yet so far away, so many layers of clothing separating their-

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Draco swore beneath his breath as he collected his things and stood from his seat. Pansy looked around, her face clearly flushed and confused. "Come on, get up. He'll call your name next."

Pansy closed her mouth in an attempt to mask her confusion but she figured it out soon enough and then it was her turn to swear. Picking up her things, she purposefully ignored the wetness in her knickers and thinly veiled her frustration as she pushed herself from her seat. Of course the the new professor would get the bright idea splitting the class into groups. Beneath his idiotic speech about broadening horizons, Pansy could hear Dumbledore's pathetic notions of House unity. Judging by the glaring coming from the Gryffindor corner of the room, she clearly wasn't the only person who felt so.

"When you hear your name called, please calmly and orderly find your partner and remain seated next to them. Right then, here we are: Abbott and Patil, Nott and Weasley, Davis and Macmillan, Thomas and Boot, Potter and Parkinson, Bulstrode and Corner, Malfoy and Granger, Finnigan and Carrow-"

Slughorn could have said Blast-Ended Skrewts shit Golden Snitches for all anyone cared, but no one could hear as the classroom erupted into a roar of disbelief. Pansy couldn't hear her own thought as her eyes scanned the room until she found Potter. For a moment they shared the same look of surprised look until he blinked first, and immediately shot her a hate-filled glare. She countered with a sneer and they held their looks of contempt until Slughorn regained control of his class and Granger tugged on his sleeve.

She couldn't stand watching their interaction so Pansy turned back towards Draco, though she still felt Potter's angry eyes on the back of her neck.

"How fitting. The golden Gryffindors paired with-" she stopped herself as she glanced from Theo to Draco, "whatever the fuck we are."

"The horseman of the apocalypse," Theo tried with a shrug. "Or at least you'd think so, the way they're staring at us right now.

Pansy willed herself not to look back at Potter, she'd have to see his face soon enough after all. "There are four horseman," she reminded him.

"Where's Zabini when you need him?" he responded with a dry smirk and Pansy nearly laughed before Draco interrupted their banter.

"Who gives a fuck what they think?" he spat though he kept his voice low, and it was only then she noticed he was glaring just as intensely at Granger as Potter had been staring at her. "The orphan, the peasant, and the Mudblood. As if they have any right to an offended."

"Tell us how you really feel, love," Pansy crossed her arms over her chest and tried to seem bored but she shared his sentiments and Theo wasn't without his prejudices as well. As children of some of the most fervent bigots, they were privy to some of the most egregious slander, they were also teenagers, and their hate wasn't so much about blood or class as it was about petty nonsense that most of the time only mattered within the walls of the castle. It was more than rivalry, Pansy was aware, but it was hardly enough to start a war over.

"At least Granger is intelligent," Theo replied with a sharp frown. "Weasley barely chops his food, I doubt he knows how to even prepare a potion-"

"Hello," she snapped her fingers in front of their faces. "Neither of you are paired with Harry fucking Potter so I won't bloody hear it-"

"And that's the roster!" Slughorn's voice boomed again and brought the trio back to his attention. "Now, find your partners - quickly, please, quietly - and we can get starter. Mister Corner, over there with Miss Bulstrode- no, no, no, Mister Thomas, you're paired with Mister Boot. Orderly, everyone, orderly!"

"Orderly my tired arse," Draco grunted as he kicked his stool away and strode over to Granger without a second glance at his housemates.

She and Theo both shared a wary sigh before setting off towards their own reluctant partners. However, before she reached Potter, Pansy looked over her shoulder and gave Theo a wicked smirk. She raised her foot and sharply brought her heel down on the stone dungeon floor, resulting in a loud tap. She repeated again in quick succession, bringing one foot after another down loudly on the floor-

Clop, clop, clop, she mimicked a horse, and hopefully one that sounded apocalyptic.

She heard Theo laugh above the ruckus of the moving class, a rare sound that she was grateful to hear as she turned towards Potter. Though his glower caused the dread around her heart to tighten, Pansy gave him the widest grin she could muster and stuck out her hand.

"Hello, Harry Potter, prepare to meet your conquest."

"You can save the dramatics, Parkinson," Potter responded after a short moment of silence, both his glare and his voice full of resentful.

"You're just as fun as I imagined, unfortunately."

Pansy rolled her eyes and tossed her school bag onto the table as she slid into the stool next to him. Leave it to Potter to take the fun out of absolutely everything. While the classroom continued to settle down around them, Pansy allowed herself to carefully study Potter from the corner of her eye. His unruly hair was just as black as her own, however everything else about his appearance could not be more different. While she liked the employ either the trinity or eldredge knot for her green and grey house tie, Potter's looked as if he simultaneously tripped and sneezed while lassoing his crimson and gold tie around his neck. While it looked like he had rolled out of bed and forgot to introduce his hair to a comb, Pansy's daily application of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion ensured she had no stray strands to speak of. He had dirt beneath his nails, stains on his shirt cuffs, and a quill shoved behind his ear, while Pansy spent nearly a half an hour ensuring every aspect of her presentation was immaculate.

However, those details were nothing new - it was obvious that his cleaning habits have remained unchanged since their first years. Instead, Pansy turned her attention to the part of Harry Potter had hadn't bothered to notice before.

For example, he had grown. Potter was taller than the average seeker - though still shorter than Draco - while she was mercilessly short. His shoulders were significantly broader than she remembered from last year, and as he impatiently brushed his hair out of his eyes, she noticed a disturbingly angry red scar on his hand. She tucked that detail away as she tried to seem inconspicuous in her inspection. His bright green eyes were narrowed to tiny slits behind his ridiculous glasses and though whenever she noticed him before, he was typically grinning like a buffoon along with his friends, now he was scowling, his anger obviously showing on his face. It was a trait common for Gryffindors, but Pansy believed Potter may have it even worse; the complete inability to hide their emotions. They wore their hearts on their sleeves and their inner most feelings directly on their faces. It was nauseating, but it did make teasing them all the most enjoyable. Potter, though, was so much more obvious than his housemates. It was as if he cared so deeply about every since that that occurred in his life, he couldn't help but to so clearly wear his happiness or distress or frustration on his face. Throughout the years, Pansy noticed how he seemed so thoroughly unable to hold his tongue - even against a professor like Umbridge or Snape - because his sense of saintliness was so damn absolute. The word self-preservation may not even be in his dictionary.

"You're all sixth years now and I have complete faith in you students to overcome your differences during the course of the year," Slughorn clapped his hands, causing his rotund center to bounce up and down to the class' amusement.

For the second time in fifteen minutes, the old potions professor forced Pansy from her thoughts and made her realize how much she had missed while not paying attention. Unfortunately, it seemed that Potter hadn't been taking notes either, and instead was continuing to angrily stare at the stone wall behind Slughorn's head. Thankfully the professor was still lecturing the class on their year-long torture assignment.

"Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape agreed that this school year should be focused on partnered potioneering. Even the best Potions Masters often fail because they have become far too accustomed to the solitary life of a potioneer. From Sacharissa Tugwood to Vindictus Viridain himself, throughout the centuries potioneers have utilized equally skilled companions in order to master much more difficult potions."

"This is bollocks," she heard Potter mutter under his breath and she couldn't find it inside her to disagree. She glanced across the room to Draco and Granger, who both looked as if they were trying to kill with eyesight alone. Pansy smirked, at least she wasn't the only one stuck with an uncooperative partner.

"-page ten Advanced PotionMaking. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death-" a collective groan passed through the classroom, which Slughorn promptly ignored "-and as part of this year-long experiment, each class will end with a prize."

The prospect of actually getting something for their pain was appealing to most of the students, enough so that the class finally settled down and even a handful of glares softened.

"Today it will be: liquid luck," Slughorn held up the vial in his hand, tossed it in the air and a heart wrenching second, then caught it again and slipped it into his breast pocket. "In order to win my fabulous prize, you and your partner must work amicably and peacefully to produce the draught. Rough-housing and hate speech will result in a swift disqualification. Draught of Living Death is more complex than anything you've attempted before so while I don't expect it to be a perfect potion, I am looking forward to your proud attempts! The group that does best will win little Felix here. Off you go!"

Pansy pulled out her copy of Libatius Borage's Advanced Potion-Making and turned to the formula for Draught of the Living Death. It was an ironic potion for Pansy's mood as of late. She felt like the living death, hangover and all. It hurt to even blink and she had to tense her entire body up to keep from staring at Draco every five seconds.

"I'll get the ingredients," she announced to no one in particular, earning only a grunt in response from Potter, who was intently thumbing through his own second-hand copy of the potions book.. She kept her eyes locked on the closet door ahead of her, trying to calm her heart with beat breaths as it beat wildly in her chest.

"For fuck's sake," she muttered, her eyes fluttering as she felt a slight wetness build. "Get a hold of yourself, Parkinson."

Staying true to herself, she swore and elbowed her way through the crowd of students attempting to collect their own ingredients until she was in the center of the small supply closet. Thankfully with the little attention she did pay to the droning professor, she remembered most of what they needed: infusion of wormwood, asphodel, cloth brain, and Sopophorous bean's juice. Ignoring the angry responses around her, Pansy collected the ingredients in her arms, scowling and sneering to mask the occasional sniffles she took on her way back to the table she was sharing with Potter.

"There," she said in a haughty tone. "You're welcome."

Potter didn't respond, instead he kept his back entirely turned away from her as he played some silly finger game with Finnigan. Groaning internally, she let herself look at Draco and just in that moment Slughorn seemingly noticed him as well. Both he and Granger had their wands pointed directly at each other. With most of the class concerned with their own potions and problem partners, their disqualification and subsequent chiding nearly went unnoticed.

"Potter!" she hissed, placing her hand on his forearm and digging her nails into his skin. He yelped in response, a sound Slughorn didn't hear as he was now turning towards Theo and Weasley and the black, tar-like mess bubbling out of their cauldron. "We've got less than an hour now and I swear to all the gods-"

"Alright, that's enough?" he replied with clenched teeth. He tore his arm away from her and flipped open his ratty book. Pansy scoffed. He was practically a Weasley - all he was missing was the name.

Working silently next to each other, Pansy did her best to distract her mind from the heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach as she felt the hate emanate from Potter. She stirred the cauldron while he diced the sloth brain, she ground down the root of asphodel while he worked on the Sopophorous beans. If it were not for the deep frown on their faces, a passing observe may even assume they worked well together.

"The bean needs to be cut," she finally spoke, though her eyes remained on the potion and she could only see Potter's hands from the peripheral.

"You were doing so well being quiet, you know that?" he responded with a similar tone of animosity. "I'm actually quite disappointed."

"Fuck yourself, Potter."

At that point, Pansy no longer cared and she took whatever Potter handed her and tossed it into the cauldron along with the rest of the ingredients. When he told her to stir differently, she didn't give it a second thought because even in their hateful silence they were better off than most of the class. Half of the class had already been disqualified and the other half was inept. If they did get the liquid luck, it would be out of pure coincidence due to Dumbledore and Slughorn's ludicrous ideas for house unity.

"The clear winner!" Slughorn's voice came out of nowhere, though he was suddenly right in front of their table. Pansy tore her eyes away from the delicately pale pink potion in front of her and gave Potter a quizzical look, though he looked equally as surprised.

"Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good lord, it's clear you've inherited your mother's talent. Oh and, ahem, Miss Parkinson," Slughorn added as an afterthought, his joules turning a similar pink to the potion in front of them. The class, for the first time completely silent, turned towards their table. Slughorn gripped Harry's hand in his and shaked it violently while shoving the thin phial into hers. "Here you are, then, here you are - one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well! Now class, let me explain to you what Harry and Miss Parkinson did so spectacularly here, all in the name of house unity!"

It happened so quickly - silence falling throughout the class, Slughorn announcing their victory, the liquid luck being forcibly shoved into her hand - that Pansy wanted nothing more than to slip her cloak on her and escape from the sudden attention. It this had happened last year, should would have proudly raised her chin and accepted her superiority over the rest of her classmates, but this year was different and brave face or no, she couldn't help the churning in her stomach and the intense feeling of despair growing inside her.

Fuck this.

"Be sure to have a solid project idea for the next week. Remember, you have until Christmas to complete a high level potion that will count for a large portion of your marks this first semester! Children, children wait!"

Pansy wasn't the only student who quickly packed her things and began making a beeline for the door. In addition to her flushing cheeks, she officially convinced herself that if she didn't get away from every last idiot in the entire class, she would vomit where she stood. Without bothering to seek out Draco or Theo, Pansy made it to the corridor, so close to freedom, before a hand reached out and pulled her out of the exiting mob.

"Parkinson," Potter's voice was immediately closer than she expected it to be while his hand remained secured just above her elbow and the oncoming horde was sixth years continued to push behind her, causing her to pushing against Potter's chest again and again.

"Unhand me," she gasped, her tone equal parts surprised and angered. The confusing mixture of emotions inside her, coupled with the mind-splitting headache and a stomach that was threatening to empty itself right then and there, forced Pansy to lean against Potter more than she would have allowed herself too. The warmth from his body did provide her some comfort though, and for a moment she could swear even the blurriness that had been clouding her eyesight was cleared.

"I said it before, save the dramatics," he said in a bored voice that reminded her eerily of her own. "That potion is supposed to be for both of us."

Merlin she had forgotten - the thin phial of Felix Felicis was still in her unyielding grasp.

"It's yours," she exhaled, shoving the phial into his palm as if it had burned her. She didn't let herself look at Potter's face as she put on the bravest one of her own that she could muster. "Drink it, toss it, shove it up your arse, I don't care."

Before he could respond, Pansy pushed herself away and fought her way through the unending crowd of students scurrying to their next class. Elbows up and head down, it was only when the familiar dungeon hallways finally brought her to the girls lavatory that she let herself exhale. Pansy threw herself into the nearest stall and immediately vomited. She knew that some of it was hitting the walls of the stall and floor around the toilet, but immediately forgot about it in between dry heaves. Whether or not having an actual breakfast would have made this act less painful was unclear, however with each painful dry heave she had made her wish that she had some other than bile to spit into the toilet.

After realizing that nothing more was going to come out, Pansy shuddered and rapidly sucked in one desperate breath after another. While wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she used her foot to flush the toilet then winced as she leaned back against the bathroom stall and slowly slid down to the ground. Her mind felt dizzy and her stomach hurt even more now that it was violently emptied. What was driving her body to seemingly destroy itself minute by minute? Pansy hardly had the brain capacity to keep herself from slipping into unconsciousness, much less consider that question. Instead, she closed her eyes and counted her breaths until her heart calmed and her hyperventilations softened.

"Pansy?"

Just as she slipped into a new found comfort, Pansy was shocked back into a panic. She scrambled to her feet as she wiped the tears from her cheeks and pointlessly checked her breath - horrendous - before unlocking the stall and stepping out.

"Nott?" she questioned, unable to hold back her surprise. It wasn't as if she had been expecting Draco, it was just the mere fact of seeing Theo in the last place she suspected he would want to be. "This is the girls' toilet."

"Yes, I-" his face reddened, as if his moment of bravery left just as swiftly as it came. "I saw you with Potter, and well- the girls, they mentioned you- were you-"

She groaned and walked past Theo to one of the many sinks that lined the side of the bathroom. "I overdid it last night, that's all."

While she washed her hands and flashed water on her face, Pansy felt his eyes digging holes into the back of her neck. They were hardly ever alone, she realized, just the two of them without Draco or Blaise to act as the main attention seekers in the group. And he had been the one to look after her, not Draco nor Bulstrode, or any other Slytherins in their class.

"You'll be late for your next class."

It sounded like a question, though Pansy also heard a touch of concern in his voice and she forced herself to take another shaky breath before turning around. "I won't be going. I just- I'm not feeling well. I'm sure you understand. I can't-"

"It's a shite time to come back to school," he interrupted in a low voice, taking a step towards her. She could see the sadness in his features and it did nothing to help her own mood. She understood what he had meant as well, partly an answer to her own troubles, and partly a confession on his own part.

"It is," she replied simply, keeping her voice matter-of-fact though her own expression mirrored his. Pansy leaned against the marble sink behind her, crossing her arms over her chest as she gave up on her typical arrogant expression and simply remained blank. She had no reason to save face, it was Theo after all.

"You and Draco-"

"There is no me and Draco-"

"You know what I mean," he waved away her objectively dismissively. "The house needs you two. You can't let him-"

"Needs us?"

"Yes," Theo stated simply then took another step towards her until he was standing directly in front of her, though luckily he wasn't as tall as Draco she and wasn't forced to look directly up to look him in the eye. He placed both hands on her shoulders before continuing, "You know what I mean."

She did, and though she wanted to look away, she couldn't. His hands seemed surprisingly warm on her shoulders and her leaned back slightly, if only to fight the urge to entirely lean into his arms to find some kind of comfort. "I don't tell Draco what to do."

"Just don't lose him."

"He isn't mine to lose. He hasn't been in a long time."

"I don't mean like that."

"Like how then?" she questioned in her usual doubtful tone. "Like how you lost Carrow?"

Theo frowned and dropped his hands from her shoulders, and Pansy immediately regretted her indignation. Rather than reach out, however, she kept her hands securely on her hips.

"My reasons for leaving Flora are my own. Don't feed into false equivalences, Pansy. Logical fallacies are not becoming of you."

Pansy couldn't help herself; she let out a hearty laugh and shook her head at Theo's pragmatic manner of speaking. "At least tell me why you left her then. Draco and I split because we would have killed each other otherwise, so there must be a good reason for you and Flora."

Theo remained silent for a moment, tilting his head to the side as he studies her face carefully in the curious way he frequently did before saying something particularly poignant.

"It felt empty. I gave the relationship an appropriate amount of time to flourish only to discover that there was nothing there and thus I thought it fit to move on."

"And you think there's something there for me and Draco?" she said slowly, thinking back to her mothers' words as well as the night before.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I'm not the one fucking him."

"Theo-" before she could slap him or chide him, Theo took her hand in his and held it tight, a Slytherin smirk suddenly on his typically blank features.

"I'm teasing. Maybe there's nothing between you two, or maybe it's fate, whatever it is; you two mean something to the house. I mean don't lose him to something… something that neither of you can control. Just because we're Slytherin, doesn't make us evil."

"You're a curious boy, Theodore Nott," she whispered, lifting her hand that was wrapped in his and pressing them against her mouth, his mere presence so close to her loosening the knot in her chest. "Very curious."

September 6th, 1996 (late morning)

Contrary to Nott's wishes, the rest of the week went no better than the first day of classes. While Draco grew more reserved, Pansy's attitude merely grew worse, seemingly in step with her random migraines and sensitive stomach. It didn't help that every other day she was forced to spend over an hour with Potter, The Boy Who Lived to Make Potions Unbearable. At his best, he would turn around and clown with Weasley, leaving Pansy to exchange eye-rolls with Nott. At his worst, Potter was moody and self-righteous, and determined to win every one of their conversations. He had all the worst traits of a Gryffindor with the egomania of a Slytherin - the worst part being that he had no idea how much of a Slytherin he was. At least her housemates recognized when their idiosyncrasies irritated others, and they relished in it. With her Potter acted damn near infallible.

"You're slicing like a fucking ponce," she commented once when she had realized that she had gotten too deep in her thoughts and there were a fresh grouping of tears building in her eyes. The potion they were making was going splendidly, but Potter seemed too proud of himself for her to leave it be.

"Your existence is a damn shame," he had answered back immediately.

"What?" her shrill voice had sounded more incredulous than she would have likely, but then was not a time for her to analyze what she perceived her many faults.

"So many unfortunate dead have left this world," Potter then turned to look at her, a look of mock sadness on his face, or more likely actually disdain towards hers, "and yet here you still stand."

Pretentious bastard. She'd would have thought that someone who has had so many terrible things happen to him would be at least more pathetic. Just her luck, Harry Potter was perfectly aware of his unshakable acclaim within the walls of Hogwarts. He was more likable than her, apparently a better potioneer, and he knew where to pick, pick pick at her when he wanted to.

He was basically as bad as Draco.

Thus, making a decision for her sanity's sake, Pansy slept on Friday and waited for her roommates to leave before getting out of bed. And it was better late than never, because her sour mood and generally intolerable health status made it nearly impossible for her to properly put away her things. Even Nott's worried looks and his own version of comforting comments weren't enough. She just needed-

She hadn't had a good feeling in a long time and she just-

It's been so fucking-

With Potter being insufferable and her mothers' daily letters and falling behind in her classes and- and-

Pushing all the thoughts of Draco, Potter, and her conversation with Theo from her mind, Pansy awoke after the girls in her dorm left for the day and began silently unloaded her trunk. Her books quickly lined on the handful of shelves open to her, placed alphabetically and by subject to make it easier for her in the mornings. Her school skirts, button ups and jumpers were folded and went directly into her drawers, while she carefully hung blazers, jackets, robes, and cloaks. Beside the heavy, dark clothing, Pansy hung her casual clothing; her best dresses, blouses, skirts and coats of various colors until her trunk was empty.

Through her meticulous organization, Pansy was able to ignore the thoughts and feelings that have been wearing her down all day. While she deliberately and gingerly folded her ties and brought her of socks together in matching pairs, she mentally dictated her movements as a way to keep away from such distractions, to keep her confusion at bay, to fight her deep misery.

"Blue, purple, green, clear," she muttered to herself as she arranged her phials of potions on her vanity.

She lined up phials and bottles by type and size, checking to make sure her beauty potions were all labeled and beside each other; Tolipan Blemish Blitzer beside the ten-second pimple vanisher, which was next to the blackhead potion her mother gave her before she left. Her invigoration draught, which she drank to start her day, was in a tinted green phial and beside her Draught of Peace, which was pale grey potion she used to soothe her anxiety and fall asleep in the evenings. Now, however, she picked up the small phial of peach-colored Pepperup Potion and took a healthy gulp.

"Lovely," she said in a sing-song voice before turning on her heel to organize her jewelry next.

"Got enough potions there?"

"Fucking Merlin, Zabini," Pansy hissed after nearly leaping from her bones. "How long have you been standing there."

"Long enough."

Blaise pushed himself away from the doorframe he had been leaning against and slowly stalked across the room enough he reached the foot of her bed.

"Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Shouldn't you?"

He mimicked her snobbish expression, with crossed arms and an arched eyebrow and all.

Pansy dropped her hands by her side and took a seat on her edge of her four-poster bed with a sigh. "I'm not feeling well. And I have plenty to keep me busy here anyway, as if it's any of your business."

Blaise shrugged, "I never said what you got up to was any of my business."

"Then what are you doing here? Isn't there a hole somewhere you should be sticking your-"

"I spoke to Theo."

"Fucking hells," Pansy muttered and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Theo thinks himself to be quite the little plotter these days. Nothing is wrong. He's working himself into a frenzy over-"

"You vomited on the first day of classes and now you're skipping an entire day of classes," Blaise reminded her. "Theo walked in on you, and now he's under the assumption you're his business-"

"I'm not-"

"And he's worried," Blaise spoke over her forcibly, his lackadaisical suddenly hardened. "And maybe I am too."

"Worried?" she scoffed, refusing to let the pang in her heart to affect her exterior. She was upset that Theo had caught her in the first place, enraged that he told Blaise, and miserable in general, to top it all off. "Nott's a browbeating killjoy who does nothing but complain and-"

"You're deflecting."

"-knowing nothing about no one-"

"Missing the point."

"-going around pretending to be some kind of damned-"

"He saw you were crying."

"So?" she shot back indignantly. "I'm just a stupid little girl, and stupid little girls cry all the time."

"Pansy Parkinson is many things," Blaise mused aloud, "but stupid is not one of them."

She rolled her eyes. "Then why can't I understand why notorious Blaise Zabini is here flattering me instead of some seventh years' tight arsehole?"

That made him laugh, and Pansy had to bite her own lip to hold back a chuckle of her own. Slytherins, though loyal to their house they may be, were not known for their unadulterated acts of concern and kindness.

"As much as I would love to see what Pucey's getting up to at the moment, the fact remains. Vomiting and crying on the first day of classes?" he questioned again, making the tiny smirk die on Pansy's lips. "If you don't pull yourself together people will begin to question your sanity."

I'm already beginning to question my own sanity, she thought with an internal wince. It was no easy thing to admit, but the hangover was one thing. Being unable to control her emotions around Potter of all people? She should be institutionalized.

"It's just a tough first day," she answered calmly, forcibly keeping her voice in chest as to not sound too whiny.

"I hope that's all it is. We can't have you losing your mind and stomach every other minute, while also keeping Draco from-"

"Oh this is all about Draco, is it?!"

She didn't mean to screech, and shut her mouth just as quickly as it opened it. With a voice bordering on shrill like hers, even raising her voice slightly made a sound that was painful to most ears. Judging by Blaise's wince, she went above and beyond the line right then.

"It's about both of you-"

"We're not dating any-"

"I know! Merlin," losing his calm composure for a moment, Blaise glared at her before softening his expression. "You don't have to be dating him to have an affect on him. You both rely on each other, that's all. Teddy and I just want to see you both happy and healthy and-"

"Save it, Zabini, I get it," Pansy scowled as he clapped his hands with a triumphant look on his face.

"Great. Now pull yourself together and meet me in the common room in five minutes. We can get a quick lunch and you can go on your way to your afternoon classes."

Pansy muttered something unintelligible under her breath, which Blaise chose to ignore as he headed out of her dorm room. Just as she reached for her brush to pull herself together, as he ordered, a thought suddenly entered her mind.

"Wait!"

He turned around expectantly, only to see Pansy's look of sheer confusion.

"How the hell did you get up here? Draco's been trying at it for years."

The question earned her yet another mysterious smirk from her old friend. "Magic, love. Magic."

There was no point in pressing when Blaise was being purposefully cryptic so Pansy merely gave him a sarcastic laugh in response as he left her room. It was best that she didn't know, she decided afterwards. She never knew when Draco was using Legilimency and he was the sort of prick who would do so without saying. There was no telling what Draco Malfoy would do with the power to enter the girls' dormitory with no repercussions.

As soon as she heard Blaise descend the stairs outside her door, Pansy stripped out of her clothes and prepared a fresh uniform for the rest of the day. While Blaise was talking, she noticed a few distasteful stains on her blouse and she could only imagine how the entire outfit smelled after her little detour in the bathroom a few hours ago. Regardless, she dressed identically so she wouldn't bring suspicion to herself for suddenly wearing different clothes. Standing in front of her full length mirror, Pansy brushed her hair and reapplied her eyeshadow and mascara, which had virtually disappeared after her short cry session in the toilets. Turning towards her rows and rows of various potions, she first drank her regular contraceptive potion, then a sip of invigoration draught, and lastly the blackhead potion her mother recommended.

She inspected her reflection once more, smoothing her pleated skirt with her palms and running her hands through her hair before she was more satisfied than she had been before, though there was still a sharp frown on her face. If she wanted to, she could still wear the uniform from her third year. Though she waited and prayed and hoped for her body to go through the familiar puberty she had seen all her classmates go through, it never came for her.

Fuck, even Millicent Bulstrode had tits, at least.

Instead, Pansy's breast remained barely developed and just perky as they had been as a young teenager, her might as well be nonexistent, and her arse was heart-shaped by all standards but useless without being paired with a more womanly figure. Her mother, annoyingly enough, insisted she was still young and could be a late bloomer, but Pansy knew better. Though Iris has worn heavy, black gowns and robes since her husband died, Pansy knew she wasn't hiding anything impressive underneath them.

And her daughter inherited that curse; a petite body, short legs, and a childishly button nose that has looked the same since the day she was born. There was no point in painfully staring at the aspects of herself that she could never change, but Pansy did it frequently enough that she has memorized the exact number of freckles on her shoulders and chests, the curve of her belly button, and every individual crease in her knobbly knees.

With a tired sigh, Pansy steadied her iron-hard expression and went to meet Blaise downstairs.

A/N:

Sneak peek for the next chapter:

Potter seemed curious, if not the tiniest bit confusion, but she couldn't place the glint in his eyes and as she went back to staring at the back of Draco's head, she realized she didn't really care.

"Draco-"

Before she could continue, she felt his hand encircle around her wrist and in seconds she was pulled up the same staircase she and Theo had just ventured down. Struggling to keep up with Draco's significantly longer legs, Pansy briefly wondered what she had gotten herself into.