Almost everything had returned to normal after the Yule Ball.
Ron was happy to have Harry back as his best mate. He and Hermione were friends again as well. It took a few days for the awkwardness to go away, but now they were back to talking and bickering like nothing had ever happened.
As things often did at Hogwarts, Ron and Pansy going to the Yule Ball together had stopped being the most talked about gossip— especially with the second task of the Triwizard Tournament coming up next month.
Pansy Parkinson seemed to treat their experience at the Yule Ball as something that never happened.
The first time they passed each other in the hall, Ron's heart fluttered. He wondered why it did that. It was not at all that he was fighting to keep the memory of her standing in the Clock Tower Courtyard and smiling at him as she said goodnight out of his mind. There was no way he thought about that several times a day. The way her lavender dress clung to her, the feeling of their clasped hands— nope. Ron never thought about any of that anymore.
He must have eaten too much for lunch the day he passed by her in the hall the first time. It was not his heart fluttering at the sight of Pansy Parkinson. It was just indigestion. That must have been it. Because what was more likely? That Ron gorged a little too hard in the Great Hall or that he fancied— he stopped thinking about it because even the thought was ridiculous.
Most of the Gryffindors had stopped bringing it up as well. His brothers still made a rare comment, but even they seemed bored of it. Ginny was in a better mood and was even talking to Harry like a normal human every now and then. Maybe that was because of Michael Corner. Ron was not too thrilled about that.
Dean and Seamus had come around as well. All of the boys were getting along again. Ron's dormitory was back to feeling like a second home.
In fact, almost everything was back to normal.
Everything besides Daphne Greengrass.
For as much as the jokes and rumors about himself and Pansy Parkinson had lost their edge, Harry and Daphne were the focus of nearly every romantic rumor in Hogwarts.
This was because, against Ron's silent and unspoken protests, Daphne Greengrass would not stop spending time with Harry.
When Daphne and Harry left Ron and Pansy alone at the end of the night of the Yule Ball, Ron had wondered what his friend was getting into.
"Did you snog?" Ron asked Harry when they were walking back to their common room that night.
"Did you?" Harry retorted. Snogging Pansy is something Ron would never, ever think about. Suddenly, he felt another surge of indigestion at thought.
"D-don't change the subject! You fancy Daphne, don't you?"
The look on Harry's face answered that question for him.
But it was now mid-January, and it seemed like Daphne Greengrass was showing up everywhere. Breakfast, lunch, dinner— she had no shame in joining the Gryffindors at their table when she pleased. In between classes, snowball fights, even the library.
On a particularly gloomy Saturday, Ron was leaving detention with McGonagall. It was a detention he got because of Daphne. Ron had slept in late because Harry decided to get up early to go meet up with Daphne instead of waking him up. That made Ron late for class and naturally that meant that it was Daphne's fault.
As he was leaving detention, Hermione quickly joined him. "I waited for you. We're going to meet up with Harry in the library to help with the Second Task."
"It's Saturday," he said wearily. Hermione gave him a look and he relented. They walked side by side down a few hallways without saying much. "Will Daphne be there?" Ron asked with a groan, breaking the silence.
"Yes, I imagine she will," Hermione responded, "She's quite… nice. And Harry fancies her."
Ron rolled his eyes, "Of course he does. Oh, Harry Potter asked me to the Yule Ball, and we had an absolutely splendid evening together."
His Daphne impression had only gotten better.
Hermione sighed but there was a smile on her face, "Don't be rude, Ron. Or are you jealous?"
"Jealous?" Ron was turning red, "W-Why would you say that?"
"I'm not really sure who you are jealous of. Harry for getting to date a nice, pretty girl or Daphne who is taking up all of Harry's time and leaving none for you."
Ron threw his hands up, "Bugger off!"
The pair had eventually found Harry in the library, and they were quickly joined by Daphne. She wore her blonde hair perfectly straight and her robes were without a wrinkle.
"We've taken what you'll surely miss," Daphne quoted the clue that Harry had heard from the golden egg. "I spent some time pondering what that could mean. Is there some object, a keepsake or such, that you hold dear, Harry?" Harry just shrugged and Daphne smiled at him, "Well, my assumption is you will have to retrieve something of yours during the task."
"What about the water?" Ron blurted out, causing a few tables around them to state. Ron talked quieter when he spoke next, "What are we going to do about that? Didn't it say it would be a whole hour?"
"An hour you'll have to look," Hermione quoted without looking up from a book about merpeople.
"I suggest Transfiguration," Daphne folded her hands together and looked at Harry.
"That's quite advanced," Hermione responded, looking at Harry as well, "There are sixth and seventh-year students that struggle with Human Transfiguration. Messing up could leave Harry unable to complete the task at all."
Ron sighed, "Ol' Moody turned Malfoy into a ferret. How hard would it be for Harry to turn himself into a merperson? Blend right in, I'd reckon." Hermione glared at him and he gulped, "Maybe there's another way, though. A potion or something?"
"It's worth a look I suppose," Harry told the group.
After two hours of skimming through dense books on potions, the group gave up for the day and left for the Gryffindor common room.
Harry stopped them right outside the library and looked nervous, "Hang on. There's something I need to ask Daphne."
He dashed back inside, leaving Ron and Hermione to question what was happening. When Harry returned he had a defeated look on his face.
"Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Oh," he mumbled, "Asked her to Hogsmeade. She said no."
"Her loss, really," Ron patted Harry's back as Hermione rolled her eyes.
"It's not like that," Harry explained, "She said she already made plans with Pansy to visit the stores together."
Hermione then gave Ron a look. Ron knew what the look meant but he couldn't believe it. Did Hermione really want Ron to step in and offer to help? Even if that meant— there was that indigestion again.
"Well, what if we all went together?" Ron cringed as he spoke. But then a plan hatched. If Hermione was really going to make Ron offer himself up, she was going to go down with him. "Right, Hermione will bring along Vicky and I'll—"
Ron's voice stopped for a moment as he thought about gazing up at the stars with Pansy that night. Ron mumbled, "I'll make sure Parkinson stays out of your way, mate."
"Brilliant," Harry smiled at them both, "I'll be right back!"
Ron really could not believe it. Harry's first task was a dragon and his second was going to be merpeople. Ron's first task was the Yule Ball and his second would be Hogsmeade.
But for as much as he was convincing himself he wasn't looking forward to going to Hogsmeade with a group that contained Pansy Parkinson, there was a part of him that was just a bit too giddy that he refused to emotionally examine.
Hogsmeade day finally came much quicker than Ron anticipated, and he found himself having to curb his excitement. There was no way he was about to come off giddy. He hadn't run into Pansy all week and wondered if she was even going to show up.
But there she was, standing with Daphne as students poured out onto the path leading to Hogsmeade. It was an unusually sunny day for winter. Viktor was nearby as well and they all met together under a large archway.
Harry and Daphne immediately were at each other's side, and Viktor had approached Hermione and kissed her hand.
"Hey," Ron looked at Pansy, who had just now made eye contact with him. She was wearing heavy, dark winter robes. Her black, sheen hair had grown out a bit since the ball and Ron noticed it fell past her shoulders now. Her clear eyes pierced straight through his far-too-nervous gaze.
Ron was worried he had stared too long when she rolled her eyes. "Weasley," she said in a monotone voice.
Ron rolled his eyes, mimicking her. "Don't look so excited, Parkinson."
Pansy rolled her eyes again in response, but with an extra level of exaggeration that reminded him of Ginny.
And then Ron laughed.
He laughed.
The entire group must have heard because they quickly turned to stare at him and Pansy. Everything went silent around them. Ron had just laughed with Pansy Parkinson and they all heard. Before Harry, Hermione, Daphne, or anyone else could say anything— a carriage pulled up besides them. Two large, white horses pulled the carriage and an older man who must have been from Hogsmeade held the reins.
"A v'agon, for us all," Viktor announced, motioning to the carriage. There were several students paying attention to the wagon now.
"That's very thoughtful," Hermione responded.
Ron, eager to get everyone's attention away from the fact he just laughed with Pansy, slapped Viktor's back, "Yeah, mate. Well done. That walk in the cold is dreadful."
Pansy went inside first, followed by Daphne and Harry. Viktor was holding the carriage door open and Hermione was next to him, so it was Ron's turn.
The cramped interior had two sides. On one, sat Harry and Daphne very close together. Pansy was on the other. Ron gulped. If he did not sit next to Pansy, that would mean Hermione would have to. That sounded like a disaster waiting to happen so Ron— for the sake of Hermione and for no other reason— sat next to Pansy.
Hermione came in next, and Ron soon found himself with Pansy Parkinson on one side of him and Hermione Granger on the other. The carriage was tight, so he could feel both of them pressed against each of his sides. Ron would have preferred jumping into the Black Lake at that moment. At least then nobody could see the shade of red he was fending off from his cheeks.
The carriage ride started off painful. Daphne and Harry giggled to each other while the rest of the cabin was silent. Ron, not being able to stand the awkwardness, looked at Viktor.
"Hell of play catching the snitch against Ireland. Even though, y'know."
Viktor nodded, "Thank you." It was silent again before Viktor spoke, "vhat are your vavorite teams? In ze British league?"
"Not Puddlemere," Harry said as he joined their conversation, "Maybe the Falcons— Tutshill isn't terrible this year, either."
Ron grinned, not missing the chance to talk about Quidditch, "The Chudley Cannons!"
Daphne clapped, "Oh! That's Pansy's favorite team!"
The whole carriage was quiet. Ron did not believe Pansy Parkinson liked anything besides being miserable and makeup. He wanted to say something, but Pansy spoke first as she rolled her eyes, "For obvious reasons."
"Her father is a part-owner. She's been a fan since we were little," Daphne explained.
Ron, in disbelief, felt the need to challenge this. He turned towards her, not fully realizing how close they were to one another. "Who's your favorite player, then?"
Pansy crossed her arms and huffed, "Craig Payne. Who else?" It was cold enough inside the carriage that he could see her breath.
Ron lit up, unable to hide his excitement, "His rookie season— that was a fifth place finish! The gaming winning catch against Arrows—"
"In the pouring rain, after two hours. I was at that game," Pansy stated proudly.
"In the Top Box, correct?" Daphne added with a sly smile that Ron was far too preoccupied to notice. He hardly ever got to talk with another Cannon's fan.
"The TOP BOX?" Ron nearly squealed, "You are tellin' me that you saw the 1990 match between the Appleby Arrows and the Chudley Cannons from the Top Box? Payne caught the Snitch right in front of it so—"
"So, I had the perfect view," Pansy's lips curled up, "The team hasn't been the same since he retired."
"Right? Williams isn't half the seeker Payne was on his worst day."
"Pansy used to hide flyers with Craig Payne on them from her parents when we were growing up," Daphne laughed with a hand over her mouth, "She had quite the crush on him— we still joke that her type is anyone who looks like Craig Payne."
If Ron was paying any attention at all, he would have realized that one of the reasons Ron idolized Craig Payne so much when he was young was because they resembled each other. Payne had the red hair and freckles to fit right into the Weasley family.
"Well, Ron still has his posters up on his wall," Harry joked, causing Viktor to laugh.
Ron turned away from Harry, only to be met with Pansy. Her big, gray eyes were staring up at him. The floral, airy scent of her perfume felt familiar to him now.
"Who knew Weasley didn't have completely awful taste in everything?" Pansy said with almost a chuckle at the end.
They were so close that her joke felt intimate. It made Ron woozy. Just then the carriage hit a bump, and Ron shot up to the ceiling and banged his head.
The whole carriage laughed— even Pansy.
When the group arrived in Hogsmeade, their first stop was Zonko's Joke Shop. On their walk to the shop, the stares and pointing had already begun. Ron thought for a moment about what they must have looked like to an outsider's perspective. It must be strange seeing him, Harry, and Hermione walking together with Viktor Krum and two Slytherin girls.
The effect of the attention seemed to bother him much less. The Yule Ball had already put him to the test, and now the shame only really felt like a light drizzle instead of a storm.
When they swung up the doors to Zonko's, two voices were almost immediately heard.
"Oi! It can't be!"
"Our ickle Ronnie and Prissy Parkinson!"
Fred and George were at each of his sides, and in front of them stood a very unamused Pansy. The others had dispersed into the shop— but for some reason Pansy did not move. Ron felt a tinge of guilt at Pansy's nickname being used by his brothers.
"I'm standing right here," Pansy said in response to them. For her part, Pansy looked mostly unfazed.
"That you are," Fred motioned, "Right here next to my dearest little brother on a Hogsmeade date."
"It's not a bloody date," Ron pushed at his brothers, trying to break their grip. They were still just a bit stronger than him, so he gave up after a few tries.
"Right," George inquired, "It's just a boy and a girl going to Hogsmeade together with two other couples."
"A group date, so to speak," Fred summed up.
"We're here for them," Pansy crossed her arms, "That's all."
"Come on, Parkinson," Fred let go of Ron and waved his hands, "Is Ronnie really that terrible?"
"Awfully so, and that still makes him much less terrible than you."
George laughed this time, and Fred pointed at her in response, "But you did go to the Yule Ball with him and now you're here in Hogsmeade together."
"We're not—"
"And one could be led to assume that you like spending time together."
"This isn't—"
"And that's what the whole school is going to think if you two keep finding yourself on these casual outings together."
The conversation stopped for a moment. Ron looked at Pansy, who had an annoyed stare and crossed arms. She let out a large sigh and after a moment Pansy simply walked away.
"Out of all the girls, Ron," George sighed.
"Mum's gonna have a fit," Fred added.
"It's not like that. We're not together. We're just—"
"Friends?" George asked.
"That's almost worse," Fred added.
Were they friends? Was Ron friends with Pansy Parkinson? Surely not. Daphne was the only link Ron had to Pansy and as soon as Harry moved on from her they would never interact amicably again. Ron had a slight bout of indigestion at the thought.
Fred and George left the shop, and Ron was left alone with his conflicting thoughts about Pansy. Nobody ended up buying anything from Zonko's, so Honeydukes was next. Ron was particularly in the mood for salt water taffy, but he only had a few galleons left for the rest of the year.
As he turned down one of the aisles, he was met with Daphne who was seemingly waiting for him.
"Your brothers," Daphne said quietly, "They called Pansy that name. Prissy Parkinson."
Ron tried to shrug and play cool, but his heart sank. "W-What of it?" he asked incredulously.
"You do not know what it is like for Pansy in her own house. The rest of the Slytherins have cut her out and she hardly has a friend besides my sister and I. It is not too pleasant for me, either, but her situation with Draco has made it worse for her."
"How's that my problem?" Ron asked, trying to keep up his facade.
"She suffers enough. At least I thought here, with her friends—"
"We're not—" Ron interrupted before stopping himself.
Just then, Pansy turned the corner. She had a handful of salt water taffy. From the other end of the aisle came Hermione. "Harry and Viktor are buying a few things," Hermione started awkwardly, "If anyone else—"
"What is this, then?"
The group of four turned, only to be met with Draco and a Slytherin girl that Ron did not recognize.
"Bugger off, Malfoy," Ron cursed, his hand finding the hilt of his wand in his pocket.
Draco first looked at him, then Hermione, "You two will get what's coming in time." Then Draco looked at Daphne and Pansy. His face turned from a sneer to disapproval, "The rumors about you two are already bad enough."
"Draco," the girl with him pulled at his robes. Draco swiftly raised his hand to break the girl's grip.
"Worse than that, what will your parents think about you two spending your time with the likes of them? You're Pure-bloods, raised to be around other Pure-bloods. Not this blood traitor and Mud—"
Ron's wand was at Draco's throat. As pulled his wand out he had knocked into the shelves and a row of blood-flavored lollipops spilled down onto the floor.
"Say it," Ron said through his teeth.
Draco did not move a bit, as if calling Ron's threat a bluff. "You'll see, Weasley. Once Daphne and Pansy get bored of hanging around Potter, they'll come back to their own kind and you'll be back to your Mudblood. She's the only type of girl a blood traitor like you deserves."
Ron was ready. Some type of spell or curse was nearly at his lips when he felt a hand pull at his arm. His wand was lowered. He turned to see Pansy staring back at him. "You'll get us all in trouble."
The other Slytherin girl pulled Draco back from them, and they turned to walk away. Draco gave one last look back to Ron, who held his wand at his side.
There was a bitter taste in Ron's mouth.
"I should have done it," Ron said aloud, his stream of consciousness leaving his mouth as his rage boiled over.
"Vhat's ze matter?" Viktor said as he and Harry emerged from the other end of the aisle.
"I apologize for my housemate's vile use of that word towards you, Hermione," Daphne said quickly, stepping towards Hermione.
"Was that Malfoy?" Harry asked.
"Vhat did he say?" Viktor had a concerned look on his face.
"He called me a Mudblood," Hermione said dryly.
"Zat is—" Viktor started.
"You don't believe that then?" Ron sent a harsh look to Daphne. For whatever she was, she was still a Slytherin. She could apologize all she wanted. Her and Pansy both still had a long history of hanging around Malfoy.
"No," Daphne refuted immediately, "It is dehumanizing and wrong."
Pansy did not speak. In fact, nobody did for what seemed like a great deal of time.
"At Drumstrang," Viktor started again, "Ve do not have these problems. M-Muggle-borns—'' he suddenly stopped speaking as Ron could tell he was realizing what he was saying.
"Muggle-borns are not allowed in Drumstrang," Hermione finished his sentence sternly. She gave Viktor a pained look, "And do you agree with that?"
"No," he said plainly, "I 'ave played Quidditch with Pure-bloods and Muggle-borns alike. There is no difference."
"How about we go to the Three Broomsticks next?" Harry suggested. His attempt to change the heavy subject did not go unnoticed by the group. Ron let out a long breath and thought about what he had almost just done. If it wasn't for Pansy, he would have done something terrible to Malfoy. It would have been deserved, but Ron would have certainly been in trouble. Expelled, even.
"That sounds lovely," Daphne replied.
As the group left the store, Pansy walked a few paces behind them. She did not go unnoticed by Ron.
He wondered what Pansy's answer would have been if he had asked her instead of Daphne what she thought of Muggle-borns. The chance of her answer being a toss-up made Ron nervous. Part of him wanted to not think about it again, but another wondered if his former Yule Ball date was all that different from Malfoy.
The group arrived at the Three Broomsticks and found a table near the back. Ron, Harry, and Viktor brought filled-up mugs of butter-beer back to the table. The girls were on one side, with Daphne separating Hermione and Pansy. The three boys squeezed into the other, with Ron being pressed up against the wall and across from Pansy.
The table was painfully awkward. Ron wanted the previous conversation about Pure-bloods and Muggle-borns to be swept from the air so he spoke, "Oi, Viktor. What are you doing about the second task, then?"
Hermione gave him a disapproving look, "Ron! They are not supposed to work together."
"Says who?" Ron asked with sincerity.
"I imagine that defeats the whole point of the competition," Pansy said dryly.
"Ze egg," Viktor spoke, causing the whole table to go silent, "You have… figured it out, 'Arry. Yes?"
Harry nodded at Viktor.
"Good," Viktor said, "Best of luck in ze task."
"You too," Harry replied.
"Her-my-o-nee," Viktor then said carefully, "Please, I 'ave planned zomething for you and I."
With that, Viktor motioned for Hermione and started walking to the door. Hermione began scooting from the bench with a grimace. "I have a feeling it's Madam Puddifoot's."
Surprisingly, Pansy replied, "It's the absolute worst."
It was a strange moment of understanding between the two very different girls. Ron held his breath. Hermione just let out a sigh and spoke quietly, "I better go."
It was now just Harry, Ron, Daphne, and Pansy. It was mostly more small talk. Ron was okay with that. Daphne asked them all about their favorite shops and Pansy did not say much at all.
Some time passed, and Ron noticed Harry was looking a bit antsy. Ron knew his friend well enough and tried to play it cool as he thought of a way to help Harry out. "You know, I could use another butter-beer," Ron said loudly, his plan fully formulated, "So if you two wanted to, y'know, go somewhere while I had one— that would be fine."
"I'll have another, too. I guess," Pansy signed, leaning back into the booth.
"Well, I really am quite satisfied," Daphne looked at Harry as she spoke.
"And, uh," Harry started, pulling some courage together, "There was somewhere I thought we could, y'know—"
"Come on, Harry," Daphne was already standing and whisked Harry away towards the door.
Daphne had left a considerable amount of galleons on the table. Ron pointed to them and looked at Pansy, "She left 'em."
"Great observation," Pansy rolled her eyes, "She paid for everyone, even you. She has a bad habit of doing that. Annoying, really."
The table was silent. A few half-empty glasses filled the table which now only Ron and Pansy sat at. Ron gulped, "Where do you think… Harry and Daphne—"
"Who knows?" Pansy's eyes were looking elsewhere, "Probably off snogging in some corner somewhere."
Ron suddenly became very aware that he was alone in the Three Broomsticks with Pansy Parkinson. To anyone watching them— it would have looked like a date. The thought made Ron light-headed.
The silence was weighing on him, and the sudden need to engage Pansy—to make sure she wasn't bored— the feeling took over him. Did Ron really want to impress her? His mind felt like it was turning into ooze.
"Nice, uh— the Yule Ball. It wasn't… y'know."
Pansy raised an eyebrow and looked at him, "What?"
Ron gulped, "It was… I don't know."
Pansy let out a sigh, "You don't have to make small talk, Weasley. The Yule Ball is over and you no longer need to placate me to make Daphne happy so that Harry forgives you."
"You know about that?" Ron was surprised.
"The whole school knew about you and Potter breaking up."
Ron turned beat red.
He suddenly heard a table of Ravenclaws near them break out in hushed laughter. They were pointing towards Ron and Pansy. They were whispering now and he could not make out what they were saying, but he was having none of it. "Oi!" he spat, "Mind your business!"
The onlookers got quiet and turned away quickly. Then Pansy let out a laugh. "Someone's gotten a bit prissy," she said between laughs.
Ron laughed. It was funny. Parkinson could actually be funny.
After a few more moments, the table was back to being silent. But Ron's eyes met Pansy's and a question just seemed to slip out of him, "That Pure-blood nonsense," he started awkwardly, "You really believe all that?"
Pansy looked away. She put a hand over her mouth as she spoke, as if to muffle her voice, "It's just the way things are."
"I didn't ask that," Ron retorted, "Do you think it's right? The way some Pure-bloods think—"
"Granger is the smartest witch in our year," her voice was strained like she was having trouble admitting what she was saying, "But it doesn't matter if it's right or not. Like I said, it's just the way it is."
"So, you don't agree with it, then."
"What do you want me to say, Weasley? You really want me to just say all Slytherins are terrible people and the proud Gryffindors are perfect—"
"No," Ron stopped her. She had her elbows on the table, leaning forwards and giving him a new look. It wasn't the usual contempt, but she was angry. Ron thought before speaking, "Daphne is a Slytherin, and she said she doesn't agree. Viktor didn't even go to school with Muggle-borns 'til he came here and look at him off with Hermione. I want to know if you— if you think it's right to look down on Muggle-borns."
"You just want me to admit it, why?" Pansy questioned him, "You want to feel like you are better than me and my whole Pureblood supremacist bloodline. That we're all just tainted with evil—"
"It's not what I meant—"
"You want me to side against everything my family—"
"It's wrong. What your family believes in—"
"They are my family!"
"But I want to know what you think!"
"Why? Why does it matter—"
"Because if you're going to be around Hermione, it's not right if you think she's lesser than me or you."
There was heat in the air. Pansy's face was scrunched up in a way he had not seen before. Ron hadn't planned for their conversation to get so tense. But now Pansy wasn't looking him in the eye. She just stared down at her drink, the foam had evaporated leaving only the golden liquid.
He searched for something to say to break the silence. He wanted her to answer clearly. He wanted her to be— not like Malfoy. He did not want to feel what he felt towards someone like that.
Ron sat back in his seat. Pansy looked at him and for a moment and they just observed one another. He thought about what Daphne had said. Pansy was no longer welcome in her own house. It simply was not right, despite who she was. He felt guilty for bringing her into that situation, even if she had agreed to go to the Yule Ball with him.
He put his thoughts aside. Then Ron spoke carefully, "Y'know, you can— be around us. Hang out, or whatever. Daphne does it all the time. In the library, when we eat."
Pansy looked back at her drink and grunted, "Why the hell would I want to do that?"
Ron was not going to take the bait, "But only if… you don't believe that Muggle-borns are lower than Pure-bloods. If that's what you think then you can't be around Hermione, and I wouldn't really want you around either."
It was the truth, but that made it no less painful to say out loud.
Pansy didn't say anything else until Daphne and Harry returned. When the carriage arrived back at Hogwarts, Pansy left without saying goodbye to any of them.
Two weeks had passed since his forced outing with Pansy. Rumors had once again stirred about their supposed relationship, but Ron must have been getting better at dealing with these things because he hardly noticed the pointing and the whispers.
It was a windy winter day as he crossed through courtyards and dashed down hallways to reach the library. Harry, Hermione, and Daphne (who Ron no longer completely dreaded having to interact with) were already at work searching through books.
Ron joined them and picked up on the conversation.
"I believe the best course of action would be to begin attempting Transfiguration," Daphne exclaimed.
"It's too advanced!" Hermione retorted, "Human Transfiguration—"
"What choice do we have?" Harry groaned, "It's better than having no plan."
Just then, a voice interrupted their conversation.
"May I sit here?"
Ron and the entire table turned to look— and Pansy Parkinson was standing at the end of the table with her books and a roll of parchment under one hand.
She gave Ron a look. He knew immediately what it meant. Ron just nodded gently at her, which luckily nobody at the table picked up on.
Hermione then perked up and pointed across to some other students who were getting up, "There's one over—"
"She can sit with us, there's room," Ron said swiftly. With a quick swish of his wand the scattered books on their table stacked onto each other, making room in front of the empty chair.
"Hi Pansy!" Daphne chirped, "Getting a start on that History essay for Binns?"
Pansy groaned, "Unfortunately."
"W-We got that too," Ron felt strange making small talk.
Pansy rolled her eyes, "Let me guess, haven't started it either?"
"Not even close," Ron replied with a grin.
Hermione turned to him with a grimace, "You said you started it."
"He's a terrible liar. You haven't picked that up by now?" Pansy already had her books out and wasn't making eye contact with any of them.
"Can we get back to the problem at hand? I'd really prefer not drowning in front of the whole school," Harry said grimly.
"My vote is for Transfiguration," Daphne stated once again.
Hermione sighed, "I guess we should at least get started trying to learn. Maybe we can get a sixth or seventh-year to help. We can get some advice on the easiest animal. A fish, or something simple like that."
Ron sat back in his chair, "There has to be something else in this heap of books to get you to breathe underwater. Maybe we are looking in the wrong place."
Then, someone spoke.
"You just need to breathe underwater, Potter?"
All of their attention was on Pansy, who for the first time since joining them had taken her focus away from her essay. Harry gave her a nod and a shrug and she put her quill down.
Pansy looked at Ron briefly. She smiled. Pansy smiled. At him. In the daylight. With other people around. What was happening? Ron wanted to scream. That was the appropriate response. Wasn't it?
Then, as if she hadn't just flashed her brilliant smile at him, she turned back to Harry and asked, "Why not use Gillyweed?"