Chapter 14

Hermione hobbled down the corridor, cane gripped tightly in one hand, Mrs Weasley's carpetbag held firmly in the other. She grinned, thinking back on the old Mediwitch's reaction to finding a house elf inside the forgotten knitting bag. Personally, she'd never been so relieved to see such a pitiful looking creature alive – thanking Merlin for the protection charms she had cast over the elf while conducting her experiments.

She was still smiling when she pushed through the tall doors marked 'Maternity' and a new father, proudly cooing at his newborn smiled back at her. This was her fifth visit to the ward, the third time she had successfully made it before being steered back to her room by some well-meaning friend.

"You," Pansy practically spat when Hermione used her shoulder to enter the small room.

"Yes, me. Again," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes at the witch's venomous expression, "Sorry, was I interrupting you and all of your other visitors?" she asked sarcastically, indicating the empty room with her cane.

Pansy ignored her, smoothing the emerald green quilt over her growing belly as she contemplated her next slur. Hermione raised an eyebrow at the extravagant bed that hadn't been there the day before, but decided against commenting on it. She had a different battle in mind.

"How is the baby today?" Hermione asked conversationally, sitting the heavy bag at the end of the bed, narrowly missing the other woman's feet - swaying heavily as a wave of dizziness caught her off guard.

"Fine," Pansy clipped, examining her nails after a brief look of disdain at the bag on her bedding.

"What did the doctors say?" she pried, gripping the bedpost with her free hand as her vision blurred and bile rose in her throat.

Alarmed that she may vomit all over her precious linens, Pansy pushed herself further into the bed head and its mountain of pillows, "Sit down, before you fall down," she shrilled, "Merlin, Granger. You're a mess."

Hermione didn't need to be told twice, swinging her injured hip heavily onto the bed, her head falling back into the plush footboard as she regained her equilibrium.

"I meant on the chair," Pansy said through gritted teeth, looking rather put out.

"It must be exhausting," Hermione groaned, her head dropping back as the wave slowly passed, "Being such a bitch all the time."

"Speak for yourself," the other woman huffed, "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Hermione cracked open her eyes and with a rather withering look replied, "Because you wouldn't leave me alone. I want answers Parkinson, and I want them before my friends start demanding them. The only reason they've left you alone so far is because the baby," she paused, "Percy's baby."

Pansy's head snapped up, her complexion turning a pastier white than it had been before, "They know?" she whispered in horror.

"No. I know," Hermione replied, refusing to soften her tone.

"So what is this then? You're here to blackmail me?" the other witch snapped, shuffling to the far corner of the bed, her inner defences snapping back up.

"I don't know, Parkinson, is there something you know that I don't want getting out?" Hermione asked pointedly, "Is there something I know that you don't want getting out? You need to tell me what the hell is going on, or I will go to the Prophet and tell them how you sabotaged my employment and tried to kill me."

"I never tried to kill you!" Pansy barked defensively.

"Then what do you call last week? A friendly house call?" Hermione cried, throwing her hands in the air.

"I just wanted to… I just wanted to scare you off. I didn't want Percy being caught in your trap too," she defended, sounded unsure of her reasoning.

"What trap?" Hermione asked, her ire rising as she folded her arms over her chest.

"Oh, lets not play games Granger," Pansy said with a groan, "First Ron, then the twins. You are the worst at hiding things – the only reason your fiancé hasn't noticed what you've been doing behind his back is because he's been too busy doing things behind yours."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Hermione asked.

Pansy shook her head sadly, the pity pouring from her in waves, "Open your eyes. Do you really think he's been off on Auror business this whole time?"

"You're delusional," Hermione whispered, staring at the woman who had clearly lost a few brain cells in the explosion.

Pansy shook her head again, "No, I'm cunning and ruthless. When Percy left me without a word I couldn't accept it was because he grew bored with me – I had to know who she was."

"And you think that person is me?" Hermione gasped, her head reeling.

"I did," Pansy answered, matter-of-factly.

"What changed?"

"He finally admitted the baby was his. He would never have told you if he was trying to get under your robes," she shrugged.

Hermione blinked, "You realise you sound insane?"

"You realize you're sleeping with three brothers and all it took for me to uncover it all was a few galleons and a man who is incredibly good at blending with shadows."

"You had me spied on?" the shrill shriek was enough to upset the baby house elf in the carpetbag, but Pansy was on a tangent and didn't notice the invasive noise.

"I had to. What I can't figure out is what you have that I don't to get someone like a Weasley to love them," Pansy whispered sadly, "Although, from what I can tell with Fred and George there isn't a lot of feelings, so much as bodily fluids, being shared between you," she ended snidely.

Hermione's mouth gaped at the other witch, "You had me spied on because you wanted to know if Percy was interested in me. You are actually insane."

"No, I'm desperate. I never thought I could be happy, Granger, until I met Percy. The day I found out I was pregnant was the day he broke up with me. When I came home from breaking things off with Draco he was gone. He left me and now I have nobody," Pansy choked.

"Nobody is truly alone," Hermione said slowly, watching a tear drip down Pansy's cheek, her brain trying to put everything together.

Pansy's tears dried up, her gaze turning hard in an instant, "Of course, you would say that. You have an endless supply of friends and family and more lovers than one woman can decently have. I have nobody, my mother is dead, my father in prison – all of my friends, all of them, are either dead, in prison or exiled after the war. I live in a cold, dark manor with a bunch of house elves and a trust fund and a reputation that doesn't exist anymore. I didn't win a war, I didn't finish school – hell, I couldn't even keep the one good thing in my life without ruin that too."

"Oh, Pansy," Hermione sighed, resting her hand on the other witches ankle.

"I don't want your sympathy!" Pansy cried, kicking her feet like a petulant child, almost unseating Hermione and the house elf.

Hermione caught the carpetbag before it tipped on to the cold tiled floor, contemplating her next words, "So you told Percy you were pregnant, and then he what, just left?"

"No," Pansy huffed, colour returning to her cheeks, "I never told him, he must have figured it out on his own. The first thing I did when I realized I'd forgotten to take my potion was break things off with Draco. I had to get special permission from the Minister to visit him in prison."

"I remember," Hermione said, recalling reading about the event in The Daily Prophet.

"Unlike some people, I have the decency to terminate relationships in person. I didn't want him finding out from someone else, he deserved more than that," Pansy told her with a pointed look.

Hermione puffed out a long breath, "I guess I deserved that."

They were both quiet for a while, Pansy fiddling with her quilt again while Hermione fussed over the baby house elf, taking it from the bag, placing it gently on the bed between them where it settled instantly.

"Are you really going to marry Weasley?" Pansy finally asked curiously, her previous snideness gone.

"Ron? Yes, I suppose… well, I don't know," Hermione fumbled.

"What do they think?" Pansy asked, staring down at the elf, avoiding meeting Hermione's eyes.

"Fred and George? They've asked me not to," Hermione admitted, wondering how they had leapt into the conversation. It was almost like sitting there discussing her love life with a friend. The next question took her off guard.

"Do you love them?"

"Who?"

"The wonder twins," Pansy deadpanned, finally looking up with raised eyebrows.

Hermione blushed, "I think so, I mean, well, things are complicated."

"Yes, I imagine telling one redhead apart from the other in the dark might make things complicated," Pansy quipped.

"I can tell them apart, even in the dark," Hermione replied cheekily, suppressing a giggle at the other woman's shudder.

"I'm sorry I asked," she gagged.

They were quiet again, this time Hermione watched as Pansy went to pick up the elf, scooping it lightly under the arms, examining it with mild interest.

"Why did you try to kill me?" Hermione asked again.

"I didn't," Pansy repeated, her tone much calmer as she settled back into the headboard.

Hermione adjusted her hip gingerly, feeling the muscles strain from sitting in one spot for too long before she answered, "Look, I know you may not be mentally sound, but even you can tell that we aren't exactly staying in a fancy hotel."

"It was an accident," Pansy replied with a roll of her eyes, the strange peace that had come over drifting into her voice, which remained as calm as her argument.

"Explain."

"I wasn't trying to kill you, I just wanted to disfigure you. But I missed; my aim has been off since I got pregnant. Whatever you have on the table in that room fell into the cauldron," she explained with a shrug.

"You tried to disfigure me?" Hermione almost shouted.

"But not kill you," Pansy said, throwing a sheepish smile.

"You're insane." Hermione repeated.

Pansy gave a long-suffering sigh, "So you've pointed out already. I don't know what happened, but when I saw you talking to Percy from across the street I lost it. I see now I may have been wrong."

"Percy isn't interested in me, and quite frankly I have enough Weasley's to deal with."

Pansy chewed her lip thoughtfully, refusing to meet Hermione's gaze again, "I see that now. I'd say sorry, but that's just not my style. I do want to know one thing though."

"What?" Hermione asked warily.

"Would you be my friend?" Pansy asked, sounding for all the world like a five year old child on the play ground.

Hermione snorted a laugh out before realizing the other woman was being totally serious.

"You've got to be kidding me!" she said, "You're insane!"

"So you've pointed out numerous time. Look Granger, I could use a friend and I think you could to."

"I have friends, lots of them." Hermione pointed out.

"Friends who keep things from you?" Pansy asked quietly.

Hermione didn't want to rise to the bait, but this was the most open conversation she's had with anyone in a long time. Pansy knew her secrets and she knew hers – as her mother used to say 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer'. Well, now was as good a time as any to take her mothers advice.

"What things?" she asked with dread.

"Ron, I told you. He isn't going where he tells you he is. My private investigator followed him for a few days."

"Why?"

"I was curious, he hides his affairs worse than you, Granger. I'm surprised you're the last to know, but then, you have been rather busy."

"What are you talking about?"

"Granger, he's cheating on you."

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