October 1991

It had taken Harry a few weeks since the start of school to seize a chance (and his elusive Gryffindor courage he was trying to foster) to talk to Pansy. When he tried to catch her after class she always seemed to be either busy chatting with a gaggle of female friends, or worse, with Draco. Once Snape had docked him ten points for "loitering with suspicious intent" when he tried to catch her in the hallway after Potions. And he never saw her in the library. When he asked Percy, he was told that Slytherins often studied in their dorms; like the Ravenclaws, they were rumoured to have a private House library. Harry thought Percy looked a little wistful at that - like he regretted a missed opportunity. He wondered if Percy had argued with the Sorting Hat too.

Eventually Harry managed to catch Pansy after Potions class – he followed her and her posse of friends down the corridor a little way before calling out to her.

"Parkinson, do you have a moment?"

She turned, and so did Millicent Bulstrode, Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass. Harry wished he could catch her on her own, but he'd just gotten too tired of waiting for an opportunity that might never come.

"What do you want, Potter?" asked Millicent, a little rudely.

"I just want to talk to Parkinson, if she doesn't mind," said Harry.

Pansy exchanged a look with her friends, as Harry walked cautiously towards their group.

"This doesn't have anything to do with your feud with Malfoy, does it?" asked Pansy. "Because if it does, I have to warn you, I want nothing to do with it."

"We're not feuding," said Harry, "it was just a duel. One he forfeited, I might add. He never showed up."

"Ooooh!" squealed Daphne, delighted at the morsel of gossip. Tracey and Millicent giggled, and Pansy looked shocked.

"No, it's family business, and I'd rather talk privately if you don't mind," he said.

Pansy looked intrigued, if a little wary. "Alright then, you've caught my attention," she replied. She glanced at her friends assessingly. "Millicent will chaperone us, okay?"

A chaperone? Harry blinked. "We need a chaperone? Why?"

The girls giggled at him in chorus.

"Okay, okay, never mind. Sure, you can bring a chaperone."

The three of them went into a nearby vacant classroom – a dusty old classroom that looked like it hadn't been used in years.

"Good luck with the negotiations!" called Daphne as she and Tracey left, giggling. Girls. Harry thought he'd never understand them.

"Sooo," Pansy said. She seemed to be waiting for something. Harry wasn't sure where to start though.

"Uh, hi," he said, lamely.

"I'm Pansy Parkinson," she said, extending a hand to him, palm down. He shook it awkwardly. She made a face at him, wrinkling up her already pug-like nose. It wasn't a good look on her.

"Harry Potter. But I'm sure you know that already," he said, embarrassed. "So, I was wondering if we might be related."

"Really?" she said, sounding surprised. "I'm not aware of any close connection with the Potters. We're definitely not cousins." She paused for a brief moment's thought. "And not second cousins either. I don't think there's any Parkinsons, Carrows or Burkes marrying into the Potter line for at least going back to my grandparents' generation. There might possibly be a connection via the Blacks, but certainly nothing closer than a third or fourth cousinship. No-one claims third cousinship, you know Potter."

"What? Why not?"

"Well who would be left to marry if you did that?"

Millicent giggled. Pansy glared at her.

"That certainly wasn't, I mean, it's not what I'm talking… we're eleven!" Harry finished with amazement.

"Well, we're eleven now but we won't be always. And I'm just speaking in generalities, it's not an offer Potter."

"Oh, good," he said, relieved. He'd been getting scared for a minute there. "But I wasn't thinking of my father's family, anyway. I think we might be related through my mother's family."

Pansy froze.

"Uh oh, now you've done it," said Millicent warningly.

"Are you implying that I'm a Mudblood?" screeched Pansy.

"What? Don't you have Muggle relatives?" asked a bemused Harry. This conversation wasn't going at all like he'd hoped.

"No! I'm a pure-blood! The Parkinsons are one of the 'Sacred Twenty-Eight', you addlepated nitwit!"

"Sorry, sorry!" he apologised. He didn't know what she was going on about, but he could tell she was very upset about being thought to have Muggle relatives.

"And who might I ask has been putting such ideas in your head? Was it Blaise? Because you should never believe anything that gossiping fool says!" She was glaring at him so fiercely he was almost surprised there weren't sparks flashing from her eyes.

"No, no-one. It's just, my mother and aunt have flower names, and so did my grandmother, and her mother before that. And my maternal grandmother's maiden name was Parkinson. So you see," he babbled frantically, "I thought there might be a connection. Because you've got a flower name too, and you're a Parkinson."

"No Parkinson ever married a Muggle," she sniffed dismissively.

"Maybe in your grandparents time?" he suggested, "Or before that? My grandmother was Heather Parkinson, and her mother was Daisy Parkinson. I don't know Daisy's maiden name. She lived in Scotland."

Pansy hesitated. She looked at Millicent, but didn't say anything.

"I won't swear an oath on it, but I won't gossip about it if it's true, Pans. You'll owe me one, of course," said Millicent, who looked serious. "And not just a minor favour, mind you."

"I don't think it's likely, Potter," said Pansy grudgingly. "But I will make enquiries with my father. Supply me with a copy of your family tree, as best you know it, and I'll see what I can find out. But I don't acknowledge a relationship," she added warningly. "Not yet, at any rate. It could be possible there was a witch who was disowned from the family," she conceded. "Maybe she married a wizard the family disapproved of." She was looking as much at Millicent as she was at Harry when she said it.

"Give your notes to Millicent when they're done," Pansy said.

"Why not just to you?"

"She's our chaperone, remember Potter?" she said, like he was a bit slow.

"Sorry, I'm not very familiar with wizarding traditions," said Harry. "I've been raised by my uncle and aunt you know, and they're both Muggles."

"How sad for you!" said Pansy with a tone of genuine pity. "If it's true there's a connection, rest assured I'll try and help you amend your behaviour to that befitting someone associated with the Parkinson family. Assuming grandfather acknowledges you, of course."

"Uh, yeah," said Harry. He was getting a bit grumpy about all the attitude, but he really did want to find out about his mother's family. He'd put up with worse.

"What about the Pure-Blood Directory?" suggested Millicent.

"Good idea! In the meantime, check that book out from the library. It might be under Anonymous, or under Cantankerus Nott. You can learn about the 'Sacred Twenty Eight'. And there's a few generations of the Parkinson family line listed, naturally. And a lot of other families as well, even your friend Ron Weasley's family. I don't know why the Potters aren't in there – they were pure-blood before you, you know. Nott is known to have been biased though. Ollivander is in there and they really shouldn't be. It's really a fascinating look into the family politics of the 20's and 30's, as much as it is a genealogical record, you know," enthused Pansy.

Harry promised to borrow it from the library if it was there, and they parted on good terms. Pansy curtseyed at him. Harry took a guess at the correct response and nodded his head, while Millicent giggled.

"Good enough, I suppose," sighed Pansy. But she smiled as she said it, so he guess he hadn't stuffed up too badly.

No-one ever did that kind of stuff in the halls. He wondered why.

Harry wrote up his family tree that night (he had a copy of his old school project in his trunk already, along with his precious photocopy of his parents' wedding invitation), and the next morning at breakfast he pondered how to get it to Millicent. It was a Saturday, so he wouldn't be able to "accidentally" bump into her after class. He looked across to the Slytherin table and caught her watching him. He nodded at her.

He pushed aside his half-eaten breakfast, except for a whole orange which he tucked into his bag for later. "Well, I'm off to the library," he announced generally.

"I'm still eating," said Hermione, "I'll be along a bit later."

"Not again," moaned Ron. "It's Saturday! Wouldn't you rather get in some extra Quidditch practice?" he suggested hopefully. "I could help. I know a lot of Quidditch moves, you know."

"No thanks, maybe another time," Harry demurred politely.

"Next week it is, mate," said Ron cheerfully. He seemed very stubborn in trying to forge a friendship between them, despite their differences.

"I'll come with you," said Neville, wrapping a sausage in a slice of toast to eat while he walked.

Harry led Neville in a winding path through the hall past where Millicent was sitting at the Slytherin table.

"I've got a book to return to the library anyway," he mentioned just as they passed her. "So we may as well get some study time in while we're there."

"Those bookworms should've been in Ravenclaw," sneered Draco to Goyle as they went by.

Harry flinched slightly but kept on walking, ignoring him as best he could.

About ten minutes into their studying at the library, Millicent stopped by their table.

"Are you done with that book?" she said, pointing at a random one from his pile. "Because I need it for an essay."

"Oh yes, almost," said Harry, smiling courteously at her. "Just let me put in a bookmark to mark my spot, okay?" He slipped the folded parchment from his bag into the middle of the book, and passed it to Millicent.

He was rather proud of their successful subterfuge. He felt like he was in a James Bond film. Even if he didn't quite understand why all the shenanigans were necessary. Some wizarding thing, no doubt.

Wizards were strange. It had occurred to him that since they'd added Flying lessons as their final class on the schedule that the book about education he'd read was right – no music, art, computers, or lots of other normal subjects. No maths! He missed the maths, a bit. It would be handy to learn if there was an easy trick to calculating knuts, sickles and galleons. And he'd been rather looking forward to learning algebra. What little he'd picked up so far from his Stonewall textbooks looked interesting. And when were they going to learn biology? They had Healers in the wizarding world, so it must be covered at some point, surely.