Harry didn't think that his relationship with Pansy would be particularly earthshaking, but he quickly learned that he was wrong. Somehow, everybody in school seemed to know that he and Pansy were "together," and everybody started treating him differently.

Among the blokes on the quidditch team, it was as if Harry had been inducted into a secret club. There were a lot of knowing looks, and back slaps, and the occasional conspiratorial rib-elbowing. Warrington and Montague would ask Harry embarrassingly graphic questions about Pansy, and then guffaw obnoxiously as Harry floundered in his attempt to answer without being crude.

The girls in Slytherin, meanwhile, managed to become more flirtatious with Harry than they had ever been. Harry was extraordinarily confused by this behavior. He thought that Pansy's relationship with him would have acted like a giant "Hands Off" sign, but it had exactly the opposite effect. Girls were laughing more frequently at things that Harry said, even when he hadn't meant them to be particularly funny. They were touching Harry's arm while they talked, and constantly brushing their hair back behind their ears. It was impossibly frustrating—Harry had fancied many of these girls in passing over the last two years, but most of them had acted as if Harry didn't even exist. It was like they had actually been waiting until Harry was in a relationship before they spoke with him.

Three people, however, remained largely unchanged by Harry's relationship with Pansy: Draco, Tracey, and Hermione. Harry was surprised—of all the people in Hogwarts, Harry had expected his closest friends to have the biggest reaction to his new relationship.

When Harry told Draco that he had kissed Pansy, Draco had given him a simple, "Congratulations, I guess."

"You guess?" Harry had asked, after a moment's pause.

"Exactly," said Draco. "Pansy's been shamelessly flirting with you this year. Most of last year, too. So, congratulations, I guess. You finally did something about it. It's not that big of a deal."

"Oh. Thanks, then." And that had been that. Harry and Draco had hardly spoken about it, afterwards. Draco never brought up Harry's relationship with Pansy, to the point that his avoidance of the subject was conspicuous. Harry wondered if Draco had feelings for Pansy, perhaps; he had intended to ask her to Yule Ball, after all, and even though Draco had taken Daphne and Pansy had attended with Blaise, the two had seemed to pay more attention to one another than to their dates.

But if Draco didn't want to talk about it, Harry would give his friend exactly what he wanted. Harry had enough awkward conversations with the rest of the quidditch team about what he and Pansy might or might not have been doing in various broom cupboards. He didn't need to initiate awkward conversations of his own.

Tracey was a little more direct when it came to discussing Harry's relationship. Harry and Tracey had been sitting in the common room, reading for History of Magic, when Tracey raised the subject.

"So, you and Pansy are together?" Tracey asked.

"What?" Harry had been thinking about the 7th German Goblin Rebellion, which had been led by Bargog the Bloated. It took Harry's mind a moment to register what Tracey had said. "Oh, yes. I kissed her earlier this week, and we've kissed quite a lot since then." Harry blushed a little when he said this; he was both desperate to talk about it and horribly embarrassed to talk about it. "So, yes, I think we're together."

Tracey nodded. Her face was carefully neutral. "I should tell you, Harry. Pansy is a bit of a gold digger."

"Tracey…" Harry said warningly.

"She's not messing with any broke wizards," Tracey said.

"Pansy is my girlfriend. I'd prefer that you not insult her."

"I'm not trying to be insulting. I'm just looking out for you." Tracey shrugged. "There's a reason that she's friends with you and Draco, but I only needed to tell you once. Now you know. What you do from now on is your business." Tracey smiled, but Harry could tell she was faking the expression. "If you're happy, I'm happy."

"I'm happy," Harry said crossly.

"Great," Tracey said, still fake-smiling. "Then we'll leave it at that." And they had.

Harry's conversation with Hermione regarding his new relationship had been even briefer. While Harry and Hermione were studying Ancient Runes, Harry mentioned in passing a conversation that he'd had with Pansy the previous night.

"I don't want to hear about Pansy Parkinson," Hermione had said. "After what you did to Ginny, why would I want to hear you talk about Pansy?"

"Okay, I won't talk about Pansy," Harry said.

"Thank you," Hermione said. After a few moments of scratching her parchment with her quill, Hermione spoke again. "I'm sorry I snapped at you." She did not sound sorry at all.

"Don't worry about it," Harry said. After that, he was careful to avoid the subject of Pansy any time he was near Hermione.

Harry was slightly unsettled by the fact that his three closest friends were, at best, ambivalent when it came to his new relationship. Harry trusted his friends a great deal, especially now that he had successfully navigated two-thirds of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Harry also knew that any time the three of them could reach a consensus, it was probably important, and they were probably right. Harry had expected at least a little enthusiasm, but instead he had gotten tepid congratulations from Draco and Tracey, and outright hostility from Hermione. Sure, Draco and Pansy had a big fight about Yule Ball; yes, Tracey was probably jealous that Pansy was dating Harry; and true, Hermione had never liked Pansy… but they could be happy for Harry, even if they weren't happy with his decision, right? At the very least, they should be able to feign happiness. Instead, it seemed like Harry's friends were conspiring to avoid the subject of Pansy Parkinson altogether.

Later that week, Hedwig returned to Hogwarts with a reply to the letter that Harry had sent after the second task. Harry tore it open immediately, and was very pleased by the response. He would be having a meeting at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade in two weekends. It would be the last Hogsmeade weekend before the third task, but it was a perfect time to put his plan in motion. After that, Rita Skeeter would be out of Harry's hair forever.

Unfortunately, this required a change of Harry's plans with Pansy, and Harry knew that Pansy would not be happy.

Even though it was two weeks away, and even though they had just started dating, Pansy had their whole Saturday in Hogsmeade planned out. Pansy had made it very clear that Harry's only responsibilities were: (1) ask Pansy to Hogsmeade, which Harry promptly had; and (2) show up at Hogsmeade, which was now going to be a bit of a problem.

Harry tried to think of ways to gently notify Pansy that their plans had changed. He was unsuccessful. Every time he opened his mouth to change their schedule, he found himself saying something else, usually some form of compliment to Pansy's clothes or hair.

Ultimately, Harry waited until the Thursday before the Hogsmeade weekend, when they were alone in a broom cupboard, to tell Pansy the bad news. But once they were in the broom cupboard, Harry thought that maybe the news would be easier for Pansy to take after a nice snogging. And after that first snogging, Harry felt that the news would be easier for him to deliver after a second snogging.

After the second snogging, Harry felt that perhaps now was not the time to tell Pansy at all. A third snogging was in order, instead.

It was during the third snog that Harry's conscience began to trouble him. He had to tell Pansy. It wasn't fair to spring it on her at the last minute. Harry pulled back from the snog.

"Pansy?"

"Mmm…. Yes?" Pansy leaned forward, pressing her hands lightly against Harry's chest. She went up on her tiptoes and leaned in for another kiss.

"About this weekend…"

"It's going to be fantastic," Pansy said.

"I need to be at the Three Broomsticks at two in the afternoon. It's really important."

"Really?" Pansy pouted a little. She was cute when she pouted a little. (Not that Harry would ever admit it, but Pansy was insufferable when she pouted a lot.)

Harry sighed. "Really."

"That's okay," Pansy said. "I understand." She leaned back in, and snogging resumed.

Harry was surprised that Pansy had taken things so well. Harry had expected to be chastised, or yelled at, or perhaps a bit of a tantrum. Instead, Pansy was snogging even more vigorously than before. Harry, not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, reciprocated.

Back when Pansy and Harry first started kissing, Harry hadn't known where to put his hands during a good snog. Harry was a quick study, however, and discovered several comfortable arrangements. He could run one hand through Pansy's hair, for example, and keep the other at the small of her back. This was good whenever they began kissing. If they were in the middle of a snog, Harry could put both hands in Pansy's hair. Both hands on Pansy's back was also a reliable option, usually one hand by her shoulder blades and the other one lower, just above her waist. Lastly, Harry could put his hands on Pansy's waist and hips—this was where his hands currently resided.

Harry knew, from hearing Pucey and Flint talk in the quidditch locker room during previous years, that there were other, more adventurous places for Harry's hands to go during a snog. But Harry was completely baffled by the prospect of determining when it was time to move his hands to those areas. From what he had overheard from Pucey and Flint, it seemed like there was a constant battle between wizards and witches—wizards were subtly trying to move their hands to particular regions, and witches were gently trying to redirect those hands to more polite positions. (Since Harry and Pansy started dating, Harry had also become skilled at the use of euphemisms, even in his own internal monologue.)

In the dark of the broom cupboard, Pansy raised her arms and wrapped them around Harry's neck, and Harry felt Pansy's jumper pull upwards. Her shirt had become untucked from her skirt, and Harry could feel a strip of soft skin against his hands. Harry moved his thumbs lightly against the newly exposed skin, and Pansy made a small noise in her throat.

Harry allowed his hands to drift upward, slightly, and Pansy made no move to stop him. If anything, she moved closer to Harry.

Huh. Apparently, that's how you know.

Harry allowed his hands to continue to move upward, fascinated by the smooth feel of Pansy's skin. When his hands reached the lowest of Pansy's ribs, Pansy pulled back slightly. She placed her hands on Harry's chest, again, and clamped her arms down, trapping Harry's hands under her elbows.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Are you sure you have to go to the Three Broomsticks this weekend?"

Oh. So that was how it was going to be. "Yes, I'm sure," Harry said reluctantly.

"Okay," Pansy said dejectedly. She stepped back and rearranged her shirt. Harry let out a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. That was… frustrating.

"It won't ruin our day unless we let it," Harry said optimistically.

"Fine, I guess." Pansy opened the door to the cupboard a crack and peered into the hall. "I have to go right now if I'm going to make it to Care of Magical Creatures on time."

Wow. Wow. Pansy was really upset if she was leaving Harry in a broom cupboard in order to go to Care of Magical Creatures. "I'll make it up to you," Harry said desperately. "I promise."

Pansy turned and smiled a little. "We'll see. Find me in the common room after classes?"

"Sure," Harry said.

Pansy leaned back into the cupboard and pecked Harry on the cheek. "See you soon."

Harry waggled his fingers glumly. "Bye."

*!*!*!*!*!*!*

On Saturday, Harry quickly discovered that a visit to Hogsmeade with your girlfriend was vastly different from a visit to Hogsmeade with your mates. Trips to Honeydukes were focused on a pink and red section of the store that Harry had somehow managed to never notice before. The only reason to visit the Shrieking Shack was if you were attempting to scare your girl into your arms. Tragically, Zonko's Joke Shop was right off the agenda. Instead, an extended lunch was taken at Madam Puddifoot's.

It was exhausting. But, such were the costs of having a girlfriend. There were advantages, as well. And thinking about those advantages always managed to put a stupid grin on Harry's face.

As two o'clock approached, Harry became more and more nervous. Pansy noticed, and she became more and more sullen. Finally, Harry said that he had to leave.

"Are you sure?" Pansy asked.

"I'm sure," Harry said. "Come by the Three Broomsticks at three; I should be done by then." Harry leaned down to give Pansy a kiss, and she turned her face so that Harry kissed her cheek, rather than her lips.

Harry wasn't worried by Pansy's actions. She was upset, but it wouldn't be long before Pansy forgot the entire incident.

Harry arrived at the Three Broomsticks promptly at two, and even managed to end his meeting early. Harry ordered a pair of butterbeers, one for himself and one for Pansy, but Pansy did not arrive at the Three Broomsticks at three o'clock. Harry waited around until four o'clock, sipping his way through both butterbeers and chatting with a few Slytherins who wandered in and out. Finally, Harry gave up and left the inn.

Harry wondered if Pansy had forgotten the time that they were supposed to meet. He checked a few likely shops—Honeydukes and such—but Pansy was nowhere to be found.

After a half hour of fruitless searching, Harry ducked into an alley and pulled out the Marauder's Map. He didn't think that Pansy would ditch him, but it would be worth checking.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," Harry muttered, and the map burst to life. The map only showed the interior of Hogwarts and did not extend to Hogsmeade, but Harry didn't need it to. With most of the students out of the castle, Pansy's name stood out clearly in the Slytherin girls' dormitory, next to Millicent Bullistrode and Daphne Greengrass.

Pansy had abandoned him.

"Mischief managed," Harry mumbled. He crammed the map back into his pocket and began the long, lonely walk back to Hogwarts.

When he returned to Slytherin, Harry did not seek out Pansy, but he did sit across from Pansy at dinner. They weren't not speaking to one another, but Harry wasn't inclined to start an extended conversation, either. Pansy seemed to be willing to go along with that plan.

Lying in bed that night, Harry realized that he was having his first fight with his girlfriend. This was a milestone that he should probably tell Sirius about. The fight didn't trouble Harry overly much, though, and as Harry drifted off to sleep he was comforted by the thought that everything would be okay in the morning.

*!*!*!*!*!*

The next morning, Harry was once again seated across the table from Pansy. When Draco's copy of The Daily Prophet arrived, Harry snatched it out of Draco's hands and held it out to Pansy.

"There's an article you want to read," Harry said. "It's on page three."

"I'll read it later," Pansy said.

"It's worth reading now," Harry said insistently. He jabbed the newspaper toward Pansy. "Trust me."

Pansy frowned, but took the paper. She opened to page three and began to read, and as she read a smile grew on her face. "Oh, Harry! You're just the best!" Pansy turned and shouted down the table. "Daphne! Look at what Harry did for me!" She began to read aloud from the paper, ignoring the fact that Daphne had not acknowledged her, and instead was actually covering her face and looking away. "Harry Potter and the Tri-Wizard Tournament: An Exclusive Interview with The Boy Who Lived, by Rita Skeeter."

Harry glanced around the hall. He could see, based on the looks he was getting from other tables, that news of the article was spreading through the school. This was precisely how he had imagined it.

After Skeeter's previous article, Harry had come to the realization that no amount of secrecy or seclusion would keep Skeeter from uncovering details about his life. And, more importantly, Harry didn't want to be a recluse. Yes, his fame had been thrust upon him. Yes, he was famous more for an accident than for anything that he had accomplished on his own. But he would be a fool if he didn't use those things to his advantage. That would require being in the public eye, and being in the public eye meant dealing with Rita Skeeter.

So, that's what Harry had done. Rather than fighting Skeeter, Harry had made a deal. Skeeter would stop her gossiping and rumor-mongering. In exchange, Harry would give her exclusive interview rights.

Skeeter had demurred, at first, during their meeting at the Three Broomsticks. She spouted some nonsense about "no prior review," and "journalistic integrity." Harry had remained firm in his offer; he wasn't asking her to avoid printing anything negative, just to avoid printing nonsense. As long as it was the truth, Skeeter was free to print anything she wanted. But she would stop with the speculation. "After all," Harry had said, "there's no need to speculate when you can simply ask me directly."

Skeeter had agreed, and their first interview went to press the next morning.

Across the breakfast table, Pansy was still excitedly reading aloud: Harry speaks fondly of his girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson. "Pansy is the best," Potter says. "She's pretty, and clever, and an excellent dancer. She has taught me so much about wizarding society that I don't know what I would do without her." Ms. Parkinson is the daughter of Reginald Parkinson II, the potions magnate.

Pansy turned to Harry. She almost looked as if she had tears in her eyes. "Aww, Harry! Daddy will be so happy!"

Harry smiled. "I'm sorry I've been so distant. I wanted it to be a surprise." This was the sort of apology that Harry was comfortable with—he was saying, essentially, I'm sorry that I put in the effort to do something amazing for you.

Pansy's eyes had already returned to the article. "Is there more? OOoh, there is!"

"If it weren't for Pansy, I don't know where I would be right now," Potter said. "She reminded me that there's life outside of this tournament."

When asked about the rumors of other romantic entanglements, with young witches such as Tracey Davis, Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley, Potter's response was fast and confident: "Those are just rumors. Pansy isn't worried about those girls—and if anybody would have reason to be worried, it would be her, because she's my girlfriend! If they aren't any concern of Pansy's, then they shouldn't be any concern of anybody's."

Pansy stood and leaned across the table. She kissed Harry firmly on the lips, and then whispered as she pulled away: "Let's skive off History of Magic, eh?"

Harry winked and nodded. As Pansy sat back down, she once again directed her attention to the article. "Practically this whole article is about me!" she exclaimed. Harry doubted that; only about ten minutes of questions had been related to Harry's love life, and most of those were at Harry's prompting. After being romantically linked to Tracey, Hermione and Ginny in quick succession, Harry had wanted to put those nasty rumors to rest. And if it made Pansy happy (which a prominent and public display of Harry's affection was certain to do) then so much the better. The rest of the forty-five minute interview, however, had been questions about the tournament, and a bit about Harry's past. But, after a little prompting from Harry, Skeeter had chosen to lead the article with anecdotes about his relationship with Pansy.

Harry again glanced around the lunch room. Pansy was on the receiving end of some jealous looks, for sure. The worst of those looks was coming from Ginny Weasley at the Gryffindor table, who was giving the back of Pansy's head a withering glare.

Ginny's eyes moved slightly, and she made eye contact with Harry, as if she had been aware of his gaze. Harry took a moment to make sure that Hermione wasn't watching, then smiled cockily and winked. Ginny lowered her eyes, and Harry thought he saw her lip tremble, but when she looked back up, her face was once again set in a furious glare.

Harry turned back to the Slytherin table. Let Ginny stare. It didn't mean anything to him.