A/N: Massive beta love for k_lynne317 who read through and sent me corrections xx

Pansy x Hermione friendship

Rating: T

Title: It's What We Do, Part 3

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The sharp click of Pansy's heels echoed as she crossed the atrium, throwing a tight smile at the red headed witch who sat filing her brightly polished nails at the reception desk, a bored look on her face.

"Sorry, Ma'am, we are closed for the weekend," the receptionist informed her, not looking up.

"I am aware, I was summoned to custody," Pansy drawled, unimpressed with the young girls attitude.

Recognising her voice, the receptionist dropped her file as her eyes snapped up, her jaw dropping in surprise.

"Oh, Ms Parkinson. I do apologise," the young witch gushed, scrambling to make herself presentable before grabbing the visitors pass and holding it out to Pansy.

"Sorry, you need to register your wand," the redhead explained.

"I am aware of the procedure…" she squinted at the name tag on her robe "Skylar,"

Dear Merlin, some witches and wizards honestly should not be allowed to name their own children, she thought.

"Pansy, you're here," a voice boomed from the elevators. Anthony Goldstein strode over to greet her. "I am so sorry to drag you down here on a Sunday, but you are listed as Ms Granger's 'in case of emergency' person. I was surprised to see it wasn't Mr Potter, not that we would have been able to contact him on honeymoon of course," Anthony continued, motioning for Pansy to follow him back to the elevator.

"Level two: Magical Law Enforcement Patrol," the disembodied female voice intoned as the elevator came to a stop. Pansy fought to suppress a grin, disembarking with the wizard, following him down the corridor.

The pair came to a stop outside two metal doors, Anthony reached out and pulled the metal viewing hatch down. Pansy stepped forward, close enough to see Hermione pacing inside, muttering to herself.

"Morning," Pansy called in a sing-song voice, grinning as Hermione spun round, glaring at her with unbridled contempt.

"Don't good morning me, Pansy. I have the world's worst hangover, Mr Goldstein here refuses to give me a potion, and hasn't even told me if I can go home!" Hermione retorted, her voice hoarse.

"Relax, I'm here to bail you out," Pansy laughed, signing the papers Anthony handed her while he unlocked the cell door.

Huffing, Hermione padded out to the custody desk.

"Don't," Hermione cautioned Pansy who was looking down at her bare feet, one eyebrow raised.

Anthony reached under the desk, retrieving a plastic tray which he placed on the counter. Muttering under her breath, Hermione reached into the box, retrieving her stilettos and clutch. Snatching the quill that Pansy held out to her, she signed her name where Anthony indicated on the release papers.

"Have a nice day, Ms Granger," Anthony drawled, a small smirk on his lips as he watched the formidable witch turn on her heel, storming down the hall, before sharing an amused look with Pansy who followed her along to the elevator.

OoOoOoOo

Green light licked the pristine white walls of Hermione's apartment as the floo roared to life, Hermione stepping out into her living room, closely followed by a very much amused Pansy. Storming to the bathroom, she retrieved a hangover potion from the cabinet before returning to the living room where Pansy was curled up at one end of the sofa, flicking through a magazine.

"So," Pansy began, eyes scanning the various articles, "care to enlighten me as to why I just had to write a rather large cheque to the Ministry?. Isn't that what you keep a rich boyfriend around for?" She grinned.

Hermione snatched the magazine from her friend's hands, swatting her on the arm with it. "No, it most certainly is not what I keep Draco for. I have no interest in his money…"

"Relax, girl, I was joking," Pansy chuckled, her hands raised defensively as Hermione resumed raining down blows with the magazine before throwing it on the coffee table and dropping heavily onto the sofa.

"Where is Draco anyway?" Pansy asked, suddenly realising that it was she and not Draco who was listed as her 'in case of emergency' person. "Is everything okay with you two?"

"Yes, couldn't be better. He's in Italy, with Blaise. Trying to convince him to give up the self-imposed exile," Hermione waved dismissively, leaning back into the sofa, closing her eyes.

"Why didn't he tell me?" Pansy pouted.

Hermione's eyes shot open. "Shit, I wasn't supposed to say anything. He wasn't sure if Blaise would go for it and didn't want you to get your hopes up," Hermione explained.

Pansy continued to pout for a moment. "Well, I appreciate the sentiment, but he and I will have to have a little chat once he is home," she responded darkly, before flashing a wicked grin at Hermione.

"You two are utterly ridiculous," Hermione sighed, closing her eyes again.

"Anyway," Pansy suddenly cried, causing Hermione's eyes to snap open again. "You haven't answered my previous question. What the hell happened last night?"

Hermione closed her eyes again, grimacing slightly.

"Ron," she sighed. "That's what happened."

Pansy thought for a moment.

"Nope. I am going to need more details. Use your words, Hermione," Pansy patronised, a mocking grin on her face.

Hermione huffed before sitting up. "He was his usual typical annoying self," she ranted. "He opens his mouth, without thinking. And of course, because it was a Ministry Gala, I had been drinking. And of course, because Harry and Ginny are on honeymoon, we had no buffer. And of course, because Draco is in Italy, I was missing him. And of course, I hate Galas and Ron and I cannot spend more than half an hour in each other's company without arguing, but he is still my best friend and I wasn't exactly going to abandon him to attend the Gala alone because you know how the press loves, even now, to wheel us out as the 'Golden Trio' and they can write off Harry being on honeymoon but I had no bloody excuse."

"And of course, you might like to, you know, breathe?" Pansy quipped as Hermione paused her rant.

Hermione shot her a withering look before continuing. "And what started off as verbal, ended in.." She reached for her clutch and retrieved the release papers, her eyes screwing up as she searched for the details. "Shit," she muttered, handing the papers to Pansy. "200 galleons worth of damage, 100 galleons fine and a night in custody. Draco is going to kill me," she groaned flopping back on the sofa.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "No he won't."

"Yes he will," Hermione moaned, "He will actually kill me. Like actually dead. He will avada my ass when he gets home."

"Now who is ridiculous?" Pansy chidded, giving her a playful shove.

Hermione pulled herself up from the sofa. "I'm going to get out of last night's clothes and get a shower. Will you still be here when I am done?"

Pansy nodded, smiling softly up at her best friend. "Of course."

OoOoOoOo

Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped the fluffy towel around her body before padding into her bedroom. Deciding the likelihood of her leaving the house again today was almost zero to none, if only to avoid any lurking reporters after her version of last nights very public events, she pulled out one of Draco's old quidditch shirts and a pair of her pyjama bottoms. Dried and dressed, she opened her bedroom door and smiled as she breathed in the heady aroma.

Smiling, she sat down at the kitchen table, pouring herself some juice as Pansy handed her a plate of cooked breakfast.

Reaching across the table as Pansy settled into the seat to her left, she squeezed her friend's hand. "Thanks."

"For what?" Pansy frowned.

"For bailing me out. For cooking me breakfast. For being my 'person'," Hermione blushed, suddenly feeling embarrassed by her behaviour at the Gala.

Pansy squeezed her hand in return.

"Told you before, it's what we do."

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