A/N: Thanks to Rainpuddle, Slythhearted, and Scarlett for their quick readthroughs of this chapter! *glomps*
~*~
Ginny soon discovered that she and Pansy made an excellent team when they weren't attempting to sabotage each other's efforts.
Ginny's impatience with people, for example, didn't extend to potion ingredients. She found it easy to concentrate on shredding, slicing, or skinning whatever roots, wings, or leaves were needed for the day's assignment with precision. By the same token, Pansy's strength was remembering the order in which ingredients were added or solutions were stirred. Ginny's obsessiveness in preparation rubbed off on Pansy, while Ginny found herself thankful on more than one occasion that her tablemate caught her before she skipped an important step and melted her cauldron in the best Neville Longbottom tradition.
One afternoon, as Pansy was taking turns stirring that day's potion, she noticed Ginny slipping a deep-red book out of her ancient bookbag and began to scribble in it. "Diary?" Pansy queried, her eyes on the shimmering green solution in the cauldron, and the figure-eight pattern she drew in it with the stirrer.
Ginny's mouth curled into a smirk. It was not quite the trademark Malfoy smirk with its insinuations of distasteful superiority. All the same, it was shocking to see such a sarcastic expression cross the face of a soft-hearted Weasley, and Pansy told her so.
This elicited a chuckle from Ginny, and the smirk was gone. "I think I may be the least soft of the Weasley clan. Anyway," Ginny's voice softened a little bit, "I haven't kept a journal since I was eleven." She looked down at the deep-red book in her hands, hyper-aware of her immediate surroundings, ignoring the feeling that the pair of grey eyes that belonged to one of the students at the table behind her had left his own work and was regarding her intently after her last comment.
She set the book down on the table, and offered to take her turn stirring the potion. "You can look at it, if you want," Ginny offered. "It's just Potions notes."
Pansy picked the book up, and ran a hand across the cover, feeling the texture of the material before lifting the front cover with one well-manicured finger. "This isn't just Potions notes, Weasley," she said, a hint of awe in her voice. "Unless I'm mistaken, which I doubt, this is the instructions for all the potions we've been taught since first year!"
Ginny nodded silently as she stirred.
"Why?" Pansy pressed.
"I intend to sit the Mastery exam in Potions after I graduate. I thought that a compilation of what we've covered might be helpful to have."
Pansy regarded the book, page after page filled with careful, flowing script, and contemplated the girl next to her. Other than the fact that she was a Gryffindor and a Weasley - neither of which she had any control over - what did she know about the girl she worked with in Potions? That she played a vicious game of Quidditch, and that she gave as good as she got during any match, especially against Slytherin. That along with the Weasley temper she had nerve and confidence at her full command. That she enjoyed Potions and respected the Head of Slytherin House, a failing for which the spirit of Godric Gryffindor should have struck her down long before now. That she could be snarky and sarcastic .. granted, she wasn't at the level of any Slytherin, but she also hadn't spent six years in the Slytherin dungeons with plentiful opportunity to refine the art.
It was the smirk that sealed the deal. Any Gryffindor who could smirk like that was worth knowing, Pansy decided.
~*~
It goes without saying that a friendship between Gryffindor and Slytherin would be sorely tested. The rivalry between the Houses was simply too strong for it to be otherwise.
Just before All Hallows', Professor Snape announced the biannual long-term research project. Students worked in groups of four, and were required to thoroughly investigate a potion of Snape's choosing. Their final report was to include a study on each component and what effect its inclusion had on the potion, as well as a properly-brewed vial of the potion itself. It promised to be a lot of work, and he was giving the students what he considered to be a generous amount of class time in which to do research, obtain the necessary ingredients, and create the potion.
After making the announcement, Snape turned to the chalkboard in order to put up that day's potion instructions. Pansy and Ginny looked at each other, a silent agreement to work together passing between them. Pansy took up her notebook and quill, scratched a few words out in the margins of a page, and showed it to Ginny.
I'm going to invite Draco and Blaise to work with us. All right?
Ginny nodded almost imperceptibly, her attention returning to the blackboard immediately. To her mind, it didn't matter with whom she and Pansy worked; her Slytherin friend certainly wasn't going to agree to working with any of the other Gryffindors, and why would they select anyone from Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff when Pansy's own friends from Slytherin filled out their group of four neatly?
When class was over, Pansy leaned over to speak directly into Ginny's ear. "I'll talk it over with them at dinner tonight, but I can't imagine them not wanting to work with us."
Ginny smiled to herself, and wondered what contortions Pansy would have to go through to get Malfoy and Zabini to see that some Gryffs were not as bad as all that. She didn't know Blaise Zabini at all, and thought that the raven-haired boy might give her a chance without requiring too much convincing. But she knew without a doubt that six years of constant competition between Malfoy and another red-haired Weasley was bound to make Pansy's job much more difficult.
She had dinner to eat and a Quidditch practice to attend, so she didn't give the issue further thought that night. The next morning, when she looked over at the Slytherin table, Pansy caught her eye and gave her a grin that Ginny interpreted to mean that Zabini and Malfoy had been amenable to their group's fourth member.
All was smooth sailing until the next Potions class.
The first project assignment that Professor Snape requested from the students was a list of who was participating in each group, so that he might assign appropriate potions to each. Pansy took the list for their group up to Snape's desk. After all of the lists had been received and the professor examined each one, he stood and spoke. "It appears that we have a problem. One of the students in this class is named on two separate lists."
In an instant, Ginny knew what had happened, and buried her head in her hands. Snape saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, and instead of questioning her, turned on Harry.
"Tell me, Mr Potter. Did you consult all of the students on your list before you wrote their names down?"
Confused, Harry turned to Ron. "Ron said he'd speak to .. Ron. You didn't ask her, did you?"
Ron's face flamed. "Who else would Ginny work with?" He turned to look at his sister, who lifted her head to glare back at him.
"Thank you for asking, Ron, but I already have a group to work with." Ginny was too busy attempting to remain calm in the face of her brother's inconsideration to register the hurt look on his face, or the sour expressions that Harry and Hermione wore. If she'd turned around she'd have seen three identical expressions on her groupmates' faces, not bothering to hide their pleasure at making the Golden Gryff Trio's lives more complicated without any effort of their own.
"Five points from Gryffindor, for not being properly prepared," Professor Snape snapped. "Mr. Longbottom, you will take Miss Weasley's place in Potter's group."
"Y-yes, Professor," Neville replied. For all of the work he'd done in improving his Potions acumen, he was still petrified of the Potions Master.
Snape waved his wand at the blackboard, and a set of instructions appeared. The classroom fell silent as its students began their work. For the next hour, all was harmonious except for the uncomfortable glances that passed constantly between the Weasley siblings.
The moment class was over, Ron sprang from his seat to confront his sister. "What the bloody hell are you on about?" he demanded.
Ginny frowned at him in irritation. "It's incredibly simple. Pansy asked me if I wanted to work with her. No one else had asked me, so I told her I would."
He rounded on Pansy. "You did this just to cause problems, didn't you, Parkinson?"
Pansy sneered. "No, Weasel King. I asked your sister to work with us because she's very good at Potions. Unlike certain prat Gryffindors I could name."
"Merlin forbid I should be wanted on my own merits, and not as a pawn, Ronald," Ginny added quietly. She turned to the worktable to put her books away, leaving Pansy and her brother to glare silently at each other while she tried to convince herself that her brother's probably-unintentional slur against her abilities didn't sting horribly.
When she trusted her own emotions enough to look up from her bag, the room was empty save for the Potions Master, who sat at his desk, regarding her with a contemplative expression. It was a departure from the severe look of displeasure that Snape reserved especially for Gryffindors.
He watched her leave his classroom, silently resolving to keep an eye on the youngest Weasley.
~*~
Late that night, Ginny climbed through the portrait hole to the Gryffindor common room on her way directly to bed. The day had been long, and trying in so many different ways; in addition to the problems in Potions class, she had had a full slate of classes, had a two-scroll essay assigned in History of Magic which was due the next day, and a Quidditch practice in which her brother - who'd been named Captain of the Gryffindor team - had shared his bad mood by running drill after drill, until all of the Gryffindor players were ready to drop from exhaustion. Between practice, several hours spent in the library working on Binns' essay, and a hastily-consumed dinner, she was more than ready to put the day to bed, and hope for better when she woke up.
She was halfway across the common room when she heard it, another thing gone wrong with the day cleverly disguised as Hermione's voice. "Ginny?"
"Hermione." She turned to face her friend, displaying her fatigue in her facial expression. "I'd love to chat, but I'm really tired. Can this wait until tomorrow?"
"No, it can't," the Head Girl replied. "Gin, I know that I've been busy since the start of the term with classes and meetings and rounds, and I haven't been .. available for you much. I'm sorry."
"I understand."
"I'm just surprised .. are you really friends with Pansy?"
Ginny contemplated her answer before replying. "Well, it's not like we spend all of our free time hanging out, but we have a friendly working relationship in class. And the few times that we've spoken outside of class, our senses of humour have really complemented each other. So yes, I really am friends with Pansy."
"It's just that she's always been so hateful.."
"Hermione, let me ask you a question. If you weren't my brother's best friend, would you and I be friends right now?"
Hermione looked at Ginny with a strange expression. "What does this have to do with Pansy?"
"Answer the question. If my brother didn't go to school here, if you didn't spend weeks at a time at the Burrow every summer, would we have become friends?"
"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I would guess yes, but I can't answer the question absolutely."
"See? Our friendship's existence can probably be attributed, in some small way, to my brother. With Pansy, our congeniality exists in spite of my brother .. which tells me absolutely that if she thinks of me as a friend, it's entirely my own doing."
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, then thought for a minute. "There's something to your reasoning," she admitted. "All the same, I know that your acquaintance with the Slytherins is driving your brother crazy, and as a result, he's driving the rest of us nutters."
"A pleasant side benefit," Ginny teased.
Hermione gave her a small smile. "You know, Ginny, maybe when you're not at practice this weekend, we could slip down to Hogsmeade. Just for a little bit?"
Ginny recognized the effort to reclaim her friendship, and returned the smile. "Sure, Hermione. That sounds like fun."
Ginny soon discovered that she and Pansy made an excellent team when they weren't attempting to sabotage each other's efforts.
Ginny's impatience with people, for example, didn't extend to potion ingredients. She found it easy to concentrate on shredding, slicing, or skinning whatever roots, wings, or leaves were needed for the day's assignment with precision. By the same token, Pansy's strength was remembering the order in which ingredients were added or solutions were stirred. Ginny's obsessiveness in preparation rubbed off on Pansy, while Ginny found herself thankful on more than one occasion that her tablemate caught her before she skipped an important step and melted her cauldron in the best Neville Longbottom tradition.
One afternoon, as Pansy was taking turns stirring that day's potion, she noticed Ginny slipping a deep-red book out of her ancient bookbag and began to scribble in it. "Diary?" Pansy queried, her eyes on the shimmering green solution in the cauldron, and the figure-eight pattern she drew in it with the stirrer.
Ginny's mouth curled into a smirk. It was not quite the trademark Malfoy smirk with its insinuations of distasteful superiority. All the same, it was shocking to see such a sarcastic expression cross the face of a soft-hearted Weasley, and Pansy told her so.
This elicited a chuckle from Ginny, and the smirk was gone. "I think I may be the least soft of the Weasley clan. Anyway," Ginny's voice softened a little bit, "I haven't kept a journal since I was eleven." She looked down at the deep-red book in her hands, hyper-aware of her immediate surroundings, ignoring the feeling that the pair of grey eyes that belonged to one of the students at the table behind her had left his own work and was regarding her intently after her last comment.
She set the book down on the table, and offered to take her turn stirring the potion. "You can look at it, if you want," Ginny offered. "It's just Potions notes."
Pansy picked the book up, and ran a hand across the cover, feeling the texture of the material before lifting the front cover with one well-manicured finger. "This isn't just Potions notes, Weasley," she said, a hint of awe in her voice. "Unless I'm mistaken, which I doubt, this is the instructions for all the potions we've been taught since first year!"
Ginny nodded silently as she stirred.
"Why?" Pansy pressed.
"I intend to sit the Mastery exam in Potions after I graduate. I thought that a compilation of what we've covered might be helpful to have."
Pansy regarded the book, page after page filled with careful, flowing script, and contemplated the girl next to her. Other than the fact that she was a Gryffindor and a Weasley - neither of which she had any control over - what did she know about the girl she worked with in Potions? That she played a vicious game of Quidditch, and that she gave as good as she got during any match, especially against Slytherin. That along with the Weasley temper she had nerve and confidence at her full command. That she enjoyed Potions and respected the Head of Slytherin House, a failing for which the spirit of Godric Gryffindor should have struck her down long before now. That she could be snarky and sarcastic .. granted, she wasn't at the level of any Slytherin, but she also hadn't spent six years in the Slytherin dungeons with plentiful opportunity to refine the art.
It was the smirk that sealed the deal. Any Gryffindor who could smirk like that was worth knowing, Pansy decided.
It goes without saying that a friendship between Gryffindor and Slytherin would be sorely tested. The rivalry between the Houses was simply too strong for it to be otherwise.
Just before All Hallows', Professor Snape announced the biannual long-term research project. Students worked in groups of four, and were required to thoroughly investigate a potion of Snape's choosing. Their final report was to include a study on each component and what effect its inclusion had on the potion, as well as a properly-brewed vial of the potion itself. It promised to be a lot of work, and he was giving the students what he considered to be a generous amount of class time in which to do research, obtain the necessary ingredients, and create the potion.
After making the announcement, Snape turned to the chalkboard in order to put up that day's potion instructions. Pansy and Ginny looked at each other, a silent agreement to work together passing between them. Pansy took up her notebook and quill, scratched a few words out in the margins of a page, and showed it to Ginny.
I'm going to invite Draco and Blaise to work with us. All right?
Ginny nodded almost imperceptibly, her attention returning to the blackboard immediately. To her mind, it didn't matter with whom she and Pansy worked; her Slytherin friend certainly wasn't going to agree to working with any of the other Gryffindors, and why would they select anyone from Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff when Pansy's own friends from Slytherin filled out their group of four neatly?
When class was over, Pansy leaned over to speak directly into Ginny's ear. "I'll talk it over with them at dinner tonight, but I can't imagine them not wanting to work with us."
Ginny smiled to herself, and wondered what contortions Pansy would have to go through to get Malfoy and Zabini to see that some Gryffs were not as bad as all that. She didn't know Blaise Zabini at all, and thought that the raven-haired boy might give her a chance without requiring too much convincing. But she knew without a doubt that six years of constant competition between Malfoy and another red-haired Weasley was bound to make Pansy's job much more difficult.
She had dinner to eat and a Quidditch practice to attend, so she didn't give the issue further thought that night. The next morning, when she looked over at the Slytherin table, Pansy caught her eye and gave her a grin that Ginny interpreted to mean that Zabini and Malfoy had been amenable to their group's fourth member.
All was smooth sailing until the next Potions class.
The first project assignment that Professor Snape requested from the students was a list of who was participating in each group, so that he might assign appropriate potions to each. Pansy took the list for their group up to Snape's desk. After all of the lists had been received and the professor examined each one, he stood and spoke. "It appears that we have a problem. One of the students in this class is named on two separate lists."
In an instant, Ginny knew what had happened, and buried her head in her hands. Snape saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, and instead of questioning her, turned on Harry.
"Tell me, Mr Potter. Did you consult all of the students on your list before you wrote their names down?"
Confused, Harry turned to Ron. "Ron said he'd speak to .. Ron. You didn't ask her, did you?"
Ron's face flamed. "Who else would Ginny work with?" He turned to look at his sister, who lifted her head to glare back at him.
"Thank you for asking, Ron, but I already have a group to work with." Ginny was too busy attempting to remain calm in the face of her brother's inconsideration to register the hurt look on his face, or the sour expressions that Harry and Hermione wore. If she'd turned around she'd have seen three identical expressions on her groupmates' faces, not bothering to hide their pleasure at making the Golden Gryff Trio's lives more complicated without any effort of their own.
"Five points from Gryffindor, for not being properly prepared," Professor Snape snapped. "Mr. Longbottom, you will take Miss Weasley's place in Potter's group."
"Y-yes, Professor," Neville replied. For all of the work he'd done in improving his Potions acumen, he was still petrified of the Potions Master.
Snape waved his wand at the blackboard, and a set of instructions appeared. The classroom fell silent as its students began their work. For the next hour, all was harmonious except for the uncomfortable glances that passed constantly between the Weasley siblings.
The moment class was over, Ron sprang from his seat to confront his sister. "What the bloody hell are you on about?" he demanded.
Ginny frowned at him in irritation. "It's incredibly simple. Pansy asked me if I wanted to work with her. No one else had asked me, so I told her I would."
He rounded on Pansy. "You did this just to cause problems, didn't you, Parkinson?"
Pansy sneered. "No, Weasel King. I asked your sister to work with us because she's very good at Potions. Unlike certain prat Gryffindors I could name."
"Merlin forbid I should be wanted on my own merits, and not as a pawn, Ronald," Ginny added quietly. She turned to the worktable to put her books away, leaving Pansy and her brother to glare silently at each other while she tried to convince herself that her brother's probably-unintentional slur against her abilities didn't sting horribly.
When she trusted her own emotions enough to look up from her bag, the room was empty save for the Potions Master, who sat at his desk, regarding her with a contemplative expression. It was a departure from the severe look of displeasure that Snape reserved especially for Gryffindors.
He watched her leave his classroom, silently resolving to keep an eye on the youngest Weasley.
Late that night, Ginny climbed through the portrait hole to the Gryffindor common room on her way directly to bed. The day had been long, and trying in so many different ways; in addition to the problems in Potions class, she had had a full slate of classes, had a two-scroll essay assigned in History of Magic which was due the next day, and a Quidditch practice in which her brother - who'd been named Captain of the Gryffindor team - had shared his bad mood by running drill after drill, until all of the Gryffindor players were ready to drop from exhaustion. Between practice, several hours spent in the library working on Binns' essay, and a hastily-consumed dinner, she was more than ready to put the day to bed, and hope for better when she woke up.
She was halfway across the common room when she heard it, another thing gone wrong with the day cleverly disguised as Hermione's voice. "Ginny?"
"Hermione." She turned to face her friend, displaying her fatigue in her facial expression. "I'd love to chat, but I'm really tired. Can this wait until tomorrow?"
"No, it can't," the Head Girl replied. "Gin, I know that I've been busy since the start of the term with classes and meetings and rounds, and I haven't been .. available for you much. I'm sorry."
"I understand."
"I'm just surprised .. are you really friends with Pansy?"
Ginny contemplated her answer before replying. "Well, it's not like we spend all of our free time hanging out, but we have a friendly working relationship in class. And the few times that we've spoken outside of class, our senses of humour have really complemented each other. So yes, I really am friends with Pansy."
"It's just that she's always been so hateful.."
"Hermione, let me ask you a question. If you weren't my brother's best friend, would you and I be friends right now?"
Hermione looked at Ginny with a strange expression. "What does this have to do with Pansy?"
"Answer the question. If my brother didn't go to school here, if you didn't spend weeks at a time at the Burrow every summer, would we have become friends?"
"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I would guess yes, but I can't answer the question absolutely."
"See? Our friendship's existence can probably be attributed, in some small way, to my brother. With Pansy, our congeniality exists in spite of my brother .. which tells me absolutely that if she thinks of me as a friend, it's entirely my own doing."
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, then thought for a minute. "There's something to your reasoning," she admitted. "All the same, I know that your acquaintance with the Slytherins is driving your brother crazy, and as a result, he's driving the rest of us nutters."
"A pleasant side benefit," Ginny teased.
Hermione gave her a small smile. "You know, Ginny, maybe when you're not at practice this weekend, we could slip down to Hogsmeade. Just for a little bit?"
Ginny recognized the effort to reclaim her friendship, and returned the smile. "Sure, Hermione. That sounds like fun."
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