Death by Granger [rewritten version]

17

Hermione and Ron scanned the hall for Pansy, finding her arguing with Harry in a corner where there were little to no people around. Hermione took off in their direction and Ron followed without hesitation.

"Potter, let it go. She's never coming back to you, and even if she ever had plans to do so, every single choice you've made to date would halt those plans. You have no use for me, so leave me alone."

Harry grabbed Pansy's wrist. "You know something. One of them has something on you. That's the only reason you'd turn on me so easily."

Hermione and Ron skidded to a stop a little away from Harry and Pansy. Ron moved forward to intervene, but Hermione held her arm out in front of him, a silent order to stay put.

"Turn on you?" Pansy asked, tilting her head. "Potter, I didn't turn on you. You turned me away when you did things without talking to me first. All I wanted to do was drive a wedge between them so that I could be Draco's comfort in Granger's absence." Pansy's voice dropped in volume, but rose in tone. "You tried to kill her!"

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Harry and Pansy both turned to her, the former letting go of the latter.

"Harry, is that true?" Ron asked quietly.

Harry scoffed. "There's no need to protect a Death Eater."

"You have no proof," Pansy said.

"You're the one who told me the girl from the party—"

Pansy laughed mockingly. "And the thought never crossed your mind that I was manipulating you into doing what I wanted? You must've noticed that I've given up hope of you ever following a single instruction. There's no need to lie about Granger now that I don't need or want you."

Hermione and Ron stared at Pansy. Ron had his doubts, but Hermione was certain Pansy knew already. Hermione turned back to Harry.

"Really?" Ron asked in a hollow voice. "You'd turn on your oldest friends that quickly?"

"You know something, Harry?" Hermione asked. "My Slytherins might be cunning and wicked and yes, a little bit evil sometimes, but they would never turn their backs on me. Not without confronting me themselves first."

"I could tell everyone right now."

Hermione could almost feel the familiar weight of the cloak on her shoulders, the coolness of the mask on her face, as she stepped forward and spoke in a low, threatening voice. "Wonderful Mr Potter, war hero. No one knows how he almost handed the Philosopher's stone over in First Year. No one knows how he almost left Ginny Weasley down there in the Chamber and followed Tom Riddle in Second Year. No one knows how he almost let Snape kill Sirius in Third Year. No one knows how he was the cause of poor little Cedric's death of Fourth Year. No one knows how he let Malfoy's father into the Department of Mysteries, how he almost let Voldemort kill him just beacuse, or how he almost willingly handed the prophecy over in Fifth Year. No one knows he cursed Malfoy to bleed to death in Sixth Year. Oh, and who could forget Seventh Year? The year the Golden Trio went hunting for Horcruxes. No one knows how you were unwilling to destroy the necklace, how I had to disfigure your face beacuse you couldn't move, how you let Deranged Lestrange torture me almost to death, how I had to literally weaken Voldemort for you or you'd have died too. Now, would you still like to tell everyone I'm a Death Eater?"

"You're lying!"

"Do you think that makes any difference?" Pansy asked, taking the same tone Hermione did. "Who do you think everyone is going to believe? The boy who's withdrawn from everyone else and is accusing his oldest friend of being a Death Eater, or the woman who all but united the Houses herself?"