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.

"She-" The Slytherin really didn't know how to continue this statement without giving herself away. "I like someone, as people do – have crushes, I mean... But I like someone, and Professor Trelawney's told me that I'm doomed to a lifetime of misery for liking this person."

Hermione crossed her arms, pursing her lips in thought. Pansy caught sight of a badge pinned to her school robes, labeled 'S.P.E.W.' though she had no idea what it meant. "Well, wouldn't it just be easier if you got over this person? That way you don't have to suffer?"

"It's easier said than done, Granger. This person's become such a large part of my life, and I- I figure if I stop liking this person now, I'm already screwed up enough that this will come true. I don't want to be unhappy, Hermione."

The Gryffindor's eyes widened. Parkinson had never called her by her first name before, and yet it came out with such ease – like a second nature. Before she could say anything, Pansy then asked, "what's S.P.E.W?"

Hermione's cheeks tinted pink. Nobody had taken an interest in her cause yet, not without making fun of her first anyways: "It's the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. I'm a firm believer that house elves deserve equal rights to human laborers. Did you know that house elves are neither paid nor given holiday for their work?"

"I did not know that." And already a smile had returned to the Slytherin's face. She'd always loved seeing Hermione talk about things she was passionate about: her eyes lit up in this beautiful way, and a big goofy grin would cover her teeth — teeth that she'd gotten fixed because of Professor Snape's mocking. Pansy remembered that day clearly; she'd never resented her Head of House so much as she had in that moment.

"Hardly anyone does! Did you know that our very own kitchens here at Hogwarts are run by house elves?" The kitchens! Had that been why Pansy had found the Gryffindors sneaking down there the other night? For Hermione's equal rights cause? That didn't make any sense... She hadn't seen anyone wearing those badges except for Granger now. "Wait," the brown-haired girl's eyes narrowed. "Does your family have a house elf?"

Pansy gulped. "Granger, you must understand that most Pure-Blooded families have house elves... it's an old tradition."

"Ron's Pure-Blooded and he doesn't have a house elf." The Gryffindor crossed her arms indignantly. The dark-eyed girl wanted to make a comment about the fact that the Weasleys were poor and a disgrace to Pure-Bloods everywhere, but she was quite enjoying her conversation with the girl, and the fact that they were playing hooky for the afternoon.

"You're right," she decided for instead. "I'm sorry. But, I would like to support your cause. How much does it cost to get one of those badges?" Two sickles.

Hermione's eyes widened. "I- you, what? Really?"

Pansy smiled. "Of course. If you think it's a worthy cause, it must be. I'd be a fool not to support it."

A large smile erupted on the brown-eyed girl's face, and for a second it almost looked as though she were going to hug the Slytherin. However, instead, she just fumbled with the badge pinned to her school clothes, and handed it over to the girl beside her. "Here. You don't have to pay me."

"Are you sure? I'd hate to take this from you..." Pansy was clutching the badge as if it were the most precious jewel in the world: and perhaps, in its own little way, it was.

"Absolutely!"

"Well, thank you. Is there anything else I should know about this little organization I've just joined?"

Hermione's heart was racing with joy. Someone had actually taken real interest in her cause. For real! "Uh, our motto is 'Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status,' though it's not something you really need to remember. It's just what I originally wanted to call this, but the phrase was too long to try and fit on the pin."

"Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status," Pansy repeated. "I like it." She pinned the badge to her own uniform and the two made their way toward the Great Hall once it appeared the next class had ended.

————— ↯ —————

"Finally decided to put that stupid club behind you, did you?" Ronald Weasley noted once Hermione made her way to Gryffindor Table. He was gesturing to the lack of S.P.E.W. badges on her robes. She only smirked and dug into her bag, pulling out a new one and pinned it to herself.

"For your information, Ronald," she chided, grabbing a sandwich from the platter set out on the table. He watched as her hands took hold of one, and before he could comment on her old vow of 'not eating another thing until there was justice for all house elves,' she said, "I've gotten someone to join my cause today."

"Who, your parents?" He rolled his eyes, grabbing a second sandwich for himself. "They don't even know what house elves are, Hermione."

"Pansy Parkinson, actually, if you insist on being so rude." The Gryffindor claimed matter-of-factly, leading the boy to choke on his chicken salad sandwich. "Where's Harry?"

"He spilled ink all over his tie during class," the redhead claimed simply. "Something you would've known if you weren't fraternizing with the enemy."

"Fr- Fraternizing with the enemy? You saw how upset she was in Potions; I wasn't very well going to leave her like that!" Her cheeks were only getting redder the angrier she got. She crossed her arms, turning her head away from him stubbornly.

"She's not your priority, Hermione! Let her house cheer her up when she's sad, or give her a Pepperup Potions for Merlin's sake. You don't go skipping across the grounds arm and arm with her, singing some 'la-la-la' rubbish..."

"When have I ever done that?"

"Dunno, perhaps on some late-night stroll with Viktor Krum or something? Contrary to popular belief, I do have a life outside of you, you know." The blue-eyed boy stated, gingerly taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. Hermione huffed, knocking the goblet out his hands and watched as it rolled across the floor, creating a much louder rattle than she'd intended it to. Students from the Hufflepuff table eyed the pair curiously. She stood up, further drawing attention to herself though she was far too angry to care.

"Once you're done being a complete arse, maybe I'll consider talking to you again." And with that, she stormed away from her seat and headed off to Defense Against the Dark Arts, not caring that she was going to be the first to arrive a quite a little while early.

Boys, she thought to herself. Then, she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall beside the classroom door.