mágoa ( ✓ )

chapter eight

DURING POTIONS CLASS, while the girls worked on their Beautification Potion, Hermione Granger noticed that the Slytherin was a lot more subdued than the week prior. When the brown-haired girl ordered her to get an ingredient from the supply closet, Pansy did it without protest: her head kept downward and her shoulders slumped defeatedly. This had been the first time the Gryffindor had seen the dark-eyed girl in days, and there was something obviously weighing her down.

She blew a breath and set down the spoon she'd been using to stir the potion. "What's wrong?"

She wondered if something had happened back home at the Parksinsons' Estate, if a family member had gotten sick or worse... Hermione had never liked to see people who looked sad: she didn't really know how to comfort them without talking their ear off about some things she'd learned about sadness in a book — and by that point the person was more annoyed than upset, and snapped at her to shut up and go away. Pansy turned her head away from the girl, light sniffles now sounding.

The Gryffindor bit her lip, placing a hand tentatively on the black-haired girl's shoulder. Pansy flinched, and Hermione retracted her hand quickly, leaning back in her seat and turning her head to where Harry and Ron were watching her with curiosity. She shrugged, mouthing 'I don't know what's going on' to them, and glanced back at her potions-mate. She was wiping her eyes slowly, so as not to draw attention to herself.

The rest of the class continued in this way: Pansy refusing to meet Hermione's eyes, and the brown-eyed girl trying desperately to figure out what to do in situations like this. She was friends with boys, and boys were notorious for hiding their emotions, and she stayed out of the girls in her dorm's business; she'd never had to deal with this before.

As the bell rung and it was time to move on, Hermione watched as Pansy began to gather her things. The Slytherin didn't even wait for her group of friends, and that's what tipped the girl over edge. At the speed of light, she'd run after Pansy, catching her by the wrist and forcing her to face her, a concerned look in her eyes. Pansy's own face reflected terror, and Hermione released her grasp, letting out a sigh. "Do you remember the night of the Yule Ball? When you came and sat down next to me after you noticed how upset I was?"

The Slytherin only looked at her for a moment. "I do."

"Well, let me do the same for you." The brown-haired girl reasoned, adding "please" as an afterthought. Pansy bit her lip, eyeing the boards of students emerging from their classes and creating traffic in the hallway. She huffed a breath.

"Fine. But not here. Let's go to the Clocktower Courtyard." The girls headed off in that direction, relishing in the warm spring air. It was a month away from the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament, though much hadn't been said as to why there were giant hedges being built on the Quidditch pitch. Like the previous two tasks, this one was meant to be a surprise. The girls sat on a low wall, out of view from any teachers who may be wandering the castle whilst not looking after a class — honestly, Hermione couldn't believe she was actually skipping class just to talk to this girl. She never did that.

Pansy remained silent for a long while, eyes trailing after a butterfly as it flitted around the courtyard. Hermione leaned back, embracing the sunshine against her dark skin. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"It's Trelawney." Pansy said eventually. When wasn't it Trelawney? That woman was always damning people, prophesying the end of one's days. She made countless students have mental breakdowns every year.

"What'd she do?" Hermione asked, feeling glad that she'd gotten out of the class when she had. She could only imagine how much worse the woman was getting the higher the lessons you took.