Chapter Text
Pansy was not expecting to run into Hermione Granger of all people on her midnight roaming of the castle, much less the clearly distraught Hermione Granger who came running round the corner of the hall Pansy was walking along and nearly crashed into her. Really, it took her a moment to recognise Granger; it was only after she had stepped aside, narrowly avoiding being run over, and Granger herself had come to a stumbling halt, that she was able to put together the bushy hair with Granger's features.
Granger's eyes narrowed as she looked at Pansy with suspicion. Pansy stared back with her usual look of casual judgement. Granger looked as if she had been crying, her eyes just a little red and her freckled cheeks shining with a glaze of half-dried tears.
"What are you doing here?" Granger asked snappishly. The tone only partly masked the tightness of tears.
"Prefect duties," Pansy replied stiffly. It was only half a lie. She had actually come out looking for Draco, but she was rostered for patrol of the castle tonight.
Granger took a moment to absorb this. Then her scowl deepened. "You never actually show up for your prefect duties."
"Actually, I do." Occasionally. Rarely. But not never. "What about you? You might be a prefect, but I know you're not rostered tonight."
Granger looked a little startled at that. Pansy wondered how often she had been called out like that before. Granger's mouth hardened. "It's none of your business."
Pansy idly tapped her fingers over her crossed arms and levelled a smug and challenging look at Granger. "Actually, as the prefect on duty, any students out of bed after hours, which in case you weren't aware is now, are my business. What are you doing?"
Granger stood in stubborn silence, crossing her arms over her chest in a move that could have been defiant as easily as protective. As the moment drew out, Pansy raised a single critical eyebrow. Granger's mouth twitched.
"I don't have all night, Granger," Pansy warned. "Wouldn't want me to refer you to a teacher and marr your perfect record, would you?" Thinking about it, Pansy wasn't entirely sure why she was even bothering to give Granger a chance to explain herself at all.
Looking like she would rather be anywhere else, talking to anyone else about anything else, Granger finally replied, “I’ve just had a really terrible day.”
“That’s not an explanation,” Pansy returned quickly.
Granger glared at her, then with absolutely no warning, began crying, tears cascading down her cheeks. “ Fuck you,” she said emphatically, and ran away.
Pansy froze in place, caught off-guard both by the sudden turn of emotion and the vulgar language. She wasn’t entirely sure she’d ever heard Granger swear like that. It was almost impressive. She was brought back to the present by the sound of a door slamming somewhere nearby. Granger wasn’t her problem; she had enough of those already. She should go back to her dorm and try to get some sleep before classes tomorrow.
***
Hermione was not having a good night. She hadn’t been in a good mood even before she’d watched Ron kissing Lavender Brown, and things had only gotten worse since then. Of course, she just had to run in to Pansy Parkinson of all people, with her stupid, smug smirks and perfect hair and wicked tongue. When she had woken up this morning, she had not expected to end the day sobbing in the dark in an empty classroom, but here she was, heart beating hard and fast — from the overwhelming emotions of anger and grief, or from her sprint in here, she wasn’t sure — wanting to scream and break things. She didn’t give in to the former urge, but she did kick a nearby chair — it toppled with an unsatisfying clatter that just made her sob harder. She sank to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest, and let her tears flow.