Word Count: 513

Ministry: L4: Office of Misinformation: Trio Era

Easter Egg: Day 8, Abstract: Pansy Parkinson

Nothing Like Advertised

"Why are you like this?" Pansy asked, rolling her eyes at Draco, who'd flopped onto his bed with a heaving sigh. "You're like the worst gay best friend ever. You're always going through some kind of tragedy. I was promised style help and shopping and bitchiness, and here you are moping over the sodding boy who lived for the thousandth time."

"Man Who Won," Draco corrected, though his voice was muffled by his duvet cover.

"Whatever. What did he do now? Save a kneazle from a tree? Stop a firstie from falling over the stair railing?"

"He smiled at me."

"Oh, the horror!"

"Fuck you, Pansy."

"I dont have the right parts," she replied flippantly. "Nor the bright, shining, emerald orbs that make you flutter like a third year with a crush."

"Why do you hate me? It's like you enjoy my pain." He rolled onto his back to give her the evil eye.

"I'm going to go find Potter," she said, rolling her eyes at him. "I'm bored of your pain and would like what was advertised to me when I bought you."

He was stuttering and calling her name when she stalked out of the room but she ignored him with a flick of her hair. She had a mission.

…

"Oi, Potter!"

Potter was sitting out on the grounds with his friends, but he looked up when he heard her call for him. She could see the wariness in him—which, granted, was probably warranted given she'd never actually had a nice word to say to him beyond apologising for trying to give him to the Dark Lord—but she pushed on, ignoring the others around him who were staring at her, wide-eyed and questioning.

"Can I have a word?" She asked, when she was at a more reasonable distance for talking.

He nodded, even as Weasley protested. She watched Potter put a calming hand on his friend's shoulder for a moment before he joined her, walking just a little bit away from them so they had some semblance of privacy.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I'm bored to death of Draco pining over you, and I heard on the grapevine that your crush on him is as big as his on you, so I thought I'd ask you on a date. You know, for him. Since he's a little bitch and seems to think pining from a distance is somehow working for him."

"I… what?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I see you have idiocy in common with him. Will you go to Hogsmeade with him on Saturday? Please?"

"Does he even know you're doing this?"

"I mean, I told him I was coming to talk to you," she said, shrugging. "But he'll be very happy with it if you say yes. I promise."

"I… yeah, okay? I guess? I'll meet him in the Entrance Hall at ten."

…

"You have a date."

Draco blinked. "What? With who?"

"Potter."

"Have I told you lately that I hate you and that you're my favourite? What the hell am I going to wear?"