How unfair, thought Pansy, leaning against the bookshelf as Granger slept. All she did was throw on a dress, twist her hair into some sloppy up-do, swipe on lipstick and she was all the boys could talk about.
One boy, specifically. Her boy.
Draco chuckled, entering the room and noticing Granger asleep on the armchair. “I told her red wine would knock her out.” He walked over, touching Granger’s shoulder.
She made a sleepy noise and nuzzled her face against her folded arms.
Pansy watched Draco’s expression change, looking at her like he was-he was—
Pansy swallowed, looking away.
Had Granger been awake, Draco would have made some daft schoolboy remark about her looking like a girl for once, getting her all riled up. She was insufferably easy to rile up. Pansy suspected it’s what Draco liked about her. He was forever the cause of everyone’s effect. Recently, of Hermione Granger’s alone.
She blamed McGonagall for making them co-heads, hammering the final nail on the coffin of their relationship.
“Maybe I should let her sleep,” said Draco. “She pulled an all-nighter setting up the Great Hall.”
“Then wouldn’t she want to enjoy it?” Pansy humoured him.
“I don’t think she cares much. Everything’s always for everyone else.”
“Explains why her hair looks like a bird’s nest,” Pansy muttered under her breath.
“Granger, c’mon.” Draco touched her exposed back, eyes heavy-lidded. The traitor was probably sporting a semi just glimpsing her knobby spine. “Nobody’s come to get her, right?”
“Not since I’ve been here,” replied Pansy, which was entirely too long. “Are we going, or what?”
“Would it…” Draco paused, and Pansy recognised that sheepish look in his eyes. The one he gave her whenever disappointment was imminent. “Is it alright if I escort her? I think she lied about having a date when I nagged her about it. I don’t…” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to talk to her, Pans.”
“Draco—” She didn’t want to hear this.
But Draco was in his own head. “I was trying to ask her, you know. But she thought I was making fun, implying nobody had asked her to the ball. I should have bought her flowers or sweets. I don’t know why I didn’t.”
“Because you’re a coward.”
He shot her an irritated look. But Pansy was through playing nice. “So you’re ditching me?”
“You’re gorgeous. You know a dozen blokes will line up to dance with you.” He ran an admiring gaze down her sleek high-necked robes. But it lacked any desire. “Besides, we already went once together before.”
“Fine. Whatever.” She raised her flask to her lips, telling herself it was the firewhisky that stung.
“Pansy—” Draco started, but then Granger startled awake. She patted her chin, as if checking for drool, and flushed furiously. “Did I miss it?!”
Draco plastered on a mischievous smirk. “We had a blast. Someone spiked the punch and even the professors got blitzed. Shame you slept straight through it.”
“What?” Granger gasped, leaping up to her feet. She noticed Pansy’s eye-roll and smacked Draco on the chest. “Not funny.”
He chuckled, catching her hand and holding it there. “Look at you.” His eyes trailed heatedly down her Muggle gown. “All dressed up. Where’s your hot date?”
Granger glanced at the door, disappointment flashing across her face. “He hasn’t shown up?”
“Don’t worry. Draco’s offered to take you.” Pansy couldn’t help herself. “I mean, Gods knows why.” She strode forward, flask still in hand. “But this idiot,” she pointed to Draco, “is fucking obsessed with you.”
“Pansy.” Draco dropped Hermione’s hand and made a grab for her. But Pansy slipped out of reach.
“So he’s ditching me to take you instead. And you know what? To hell with it. You have him. In fact, you’re a moron if you don’t because nobody will dote on you more. Trust me. He’s unbearable about it. Oh, I should have bought her flowers. Oh, I don’t know how to talk to her. Oh, I should be nicer to her. Oh, oh, oh.”
“I don’t sound like that.” Draco was fiery red now, unable to look in Granger’s direction.
Pansy twisted the cap on her flask and slipped it into her clutch. “Fuck you very much.” And then she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Where she came face to face with Longbottom.
She assessed his navy suit. All broad shoulders and long legs. He was holding a winter bloom.
Longbottom cleared his throat. He had soft brown eyes. A boyish curl to his hair. “Yeah… erm… is she ready?”
“Change of plans.” Pansy plucked the flower from his hand and tucked it behind her ear. “Granger’s escorting Draco. You’re coming with me.”
(798 words, prompt Yule Ball from twitter)
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