Time for a Change: Grades Are In

Time for a Change
Chapter Seven
By: Lori Finnegan
2006

 

 

Hermione waited patiently as Professor McGonagall handed the class their graded Transfiguration essays. She wasn’t really worried about her grade, but she really hoped that Draco and Blaise did well on their essays. She glanced over at Crabbe and Goyle who were shaking in their shoes besides Draco. It was hopeless for them.

 

When Professor McGonagall walked by them, she handed out their essays, one by one. Draco snatched his away from her and flattened it out on his desk to reveal a bright red A.

 

“An A!” he exclaimed in a whisper, holding it up so that Hermione could see it.

 

“That’s great, Draco!” she whispered back, just before she looked at her own grade.

A B minus?

 

Oh no! She didn’t think about the fact that she would be looking at Pansy’s grade and not her own! What a careless thing to overlook! But it was too late. Draco and Blaise had already seen her mark.

 

“A B minus?” Draco said as he and Blaise leaned over either of her shoulders. “How did we get A’s and you get a B minus?”

 

“I don’t know,” Hermione said, sounding panicked. “I guess I just didn’t have a lot of time to work on it.”

 

“But it only took you a second to look at mine and make changes,” Blaise pointed out. “When I asked you to help me, you said that you were almost done with your homework.”

 

“I was…” Hermione was flustered. She didn’t know how to dig herself out of this one. “I just… maybe I should have spent more time on my own. I thought it was okay, really.”

 

Blaise put his arm around her shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “It’s okay, Pansy,” he said. “A B minus really isn’t that bad. And Draco and I won’t bug you for the next essay so you can finish yours at your own pace.”

 

“Th-thanks,” she stammered, shocked at Blaise’s obvious kindness.

 

But when Blaise released her shoulders, and she looked over at Draco, he was staring to the front of the classroom with a very thoughtful, yet determined look on his face.

 

She poked him in the arm. “You okay?” she wanted to know.

 

“Yeah,” he said. “I just feel bad that I took up all of your time on my essay when you should have been working on your own.”

 

“Don’t worry about it, Draco,” she said. “We’ll both just start earlier next time, okay?”

 

He gave one nod, but didn’t look at her.

_________________________________________________________________________

 

As he walked out of class, with each of his best friends on either side of him in the hallway, Ron couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy. Everyone was so… quiet.

 

 

“So are you guys ready for Herbology?” he asked, hoping to start up some sort of conversation.

 

Hermione only shrugged, Harry said, “Whatever,” and then it was back to being silent once more as they walked through the halls.

 

“Hey,” Ron said, once again trying to end the silence. “That essay was rough, wasn’t it, Harry?” While he had gotten a C plus, Harry hadn’t done much better at a B. Hermione, on the other hand, had of course gotten an A plus.

 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, but Ron wasn’t even sure if Harry had been listening. “Rough.”

 

“Didn’t you think it was weird when McGonagall turned the room into a circus tent?”

 

“What?” both Harry and Hermione asked, snapping out of their daze. “That didn’t happen!”

Hermione insisted.

 

Ron rolled his eyes. “Honestly,” he said. “I had to say something to get your attention. It’s like you’re both zombies or something!”

 

“Don’t mention zombies,” Hermione mumbled. “We’re studying them in Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon.”

 

“Sorry,” Ron apologized. “But you gotta admit that you were both a little out of it.”

 

“Whatever,” Harry muttered what seemed to be his most popular phrase these days. “I’ll see you guys in Herbology. There’s something I have to take care of.”

 

Ron and Hermione watched as he sped up, took a quick turn and then disappeared around the corner.

 

“What was that all about,” Ron said quietly to Hermione. “You’d think he didn’t want to talk to us or something.”

 

Ron had been expecting Hermione to either give him some insight into what was going on with Harry, or wonder out loud with him, but instead, she just kept walking, just as silent as she had been before.

 

“Is there something going on?” he asked cautiously. All of the secrets between the three of them were enough to give him an immediate headache. “You and Harry are acting… weird.”

 

“Nothing is going on,” Hermione told him right away. “I don’t know what Harry’s problem is, but I’m just tired. Like I told you at breakfast, I was just up late last night studying. I’m sorry if I haven’t been very talkative today.”

 

“Oh,” Ron said. “Well, even so… Harry is acting a bit odd. I wonder what his problem is.”

 

Hermione shrugged, and the two of them continued on their way to Herbology.

________________________________________________________________________

Draco sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall during lunch period surrounded by all of his closest friends. He had just received a high grade in Transfiguration and was also doing well in all of his other classes. He should have been happy… but something was off. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, though.

 

 

He sat between Pansy and Blaise eating a dish of pasta while Pansy and Blaise discussed the new concept that Professor McGonagall had introduced them to at their last lesson. He was still a little curious how Pansy seemed to be so on top of the subject, yet get such a mediocre grade on her last essay. It didn’t really add up.

 

But then again, everyone has off days, right?

 

A letter fell right in his lap, and he turned it over, immediately recognizing his father’s fancy handwriting on the outside of the envelope. Lucius Malfoy always wrote in green ink. He carefully tore it open and began to unfold it.

 

“Do you mind?” he said to his friends as they all leaned over to see what the letter said. They leaned back into their seats with one look into his narrowed eyes. “Thank you.”

 

With no one reading over his shoulder, Draco finished unfolding the letter and read the letter to himself.

 

‘Dear Draco,

‘I hope all is going well at school. I haven’t heard from you in quite a long time. Regardless, your mother insisted that it is I who should be writing to you. It was just a coincidence that I also have some news to deliver to you as well. Your mother and I will be going on a holiday over the Christmas break, so you will either have to stay at school, or go stay with your Aunt and Uncle. I know how you despise staying in strange places, so I will figure you will choose to stay with your friends at school. Please write me back if this is not your decision.

‘Please remember where you come from when you socialize with Hogwarts students and be aware that not all of them come from the highest of backgrounds. It would simply devastate your mother and me if you were to get involved in the wrong sort of crowd. I know that you have been doing so well in school and have made the best of friends that Hogwarts can offer, but all children, even the brightest of them, must be reminded from time to time that life is not all fun and games. Please keep this and mind and continue to make your mother and me proud.

‘Have a Happy Christmas, Draco.
Love, Your Father.’

 

Draco folded the letter back up, shoved it into the envelope and then stuck it into his backpack. It wasn’t as though he didn’t expect such a letter from his father, it was just that this would be the first Christmas he would be spending away from Malfoy Manor.

 

“What did it say, Draco?” Blaise was the first one to ask. “Is your father sending the Quidditch team new brooms again this year?”

 

“No, nothing like that,” Draco shook his head. “He just said that he and Mother and are going out of town for Christmas, and I have to stay here instead of going home.”

 

“Oh, man, that’s a bummer,” Blaise said, and Crabbe and Goyle echoed his sentiment. “I had to stay here one year… it was practically deserted. There are only a few students who don’t make it home over Christmas time.”

 

“Yeah,” Draco said, looking down at his plate. “Whatever, though. It doesn’t really bother me. I’ll just get ahead on my studies and then laugh when all of you are working so hard.” He looked up to smile at them, but no one was smiling back. “You’ll see,” he added.

 

On the other side of the room, the end of the Gryffindor table was almost completely silent during lunch. Pansy was looking over at Draco and Hermione and silently wished that she could go backwards in time. Life was so much less complicated as a Slytherin.

 

Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnigan suddenly started to have a rather loud conversation about what was better, toads or spiders, and Dean Thomas tried to get them to quiet down as Professor Snape gave a nasty glare towards their table.

 

She was about to excuse herself and get up from the table, when she felt a poke at her arm. She turned to see Harry looking at her from the corner of his eye.

 

“Can we talk?” he said quietly.

 

“Here?” she asked, leaning a little closer so he could hear her. “I’m not sure this is such a great time for a chat.”

 

“Probably not,” Harry agreed. “Meet me in the Charms classroom in fifteen minutes, okay?”

 

Pansy nodded reluctantly. She didn’t want to meet Harry in a vacant classroom, but she was Hermione, and Hermione would meet Harry Potter anywhere, wouldn’t she? So when Harry said he had to go finish his Potions assignment, Pansy said goodbye to him like everyone else sitting around them and then continued to eat her lunch… which wasn’t at all appetizing when she thought about the conversation that was to come.

 

It took Pansy a good five minutes more than she had expected to get away from Ron. Harry had already used the studying excuse, so it was a little harder to think up an additional excuse to use to get up from the table.

 

Luckily, she was a Slytherin, and this sort of thing came natural to her.

 

“I promised a friend that I’d give her some last minute pointers on the latest Potions chapter,” she said, pushing her plate of uneaten food slightly towards the center of the table. “See you all in class.”

 

It seemed like something Hermione would say, anyway. She was always offering to help others out, no matter how pathetic they were. Pansy gave a huge sigh as she finally left the Great Hall and emerged out into the hallway.

 

Unfortunately, it was only a short distance over to the charms classroom, and by the time she stood in front of the closed door, the butterflies in her stomach were threatening to come back up. She leaned back against the cool stone wall and took several deep breaths until she thought her feet would carry her once again. In a brave move, she pushed herself away from the wall and entered the room.

 

Harry stood by the window, his hands in his pockets and the November sun shining down on his messy black hair. He turned to look at her when he heard the door open.

 

Pansy felt like she had to sit down.

 

“Are you okay?” was the first thing he said as he stepped closer to where she stood. “You look a little pale.”

 

She clutched onto a desk nearby, and leaned against the edge of it. “I just haven’t had that much to eat today,” she said, which was actually true. “I guess I’m just a little dizzy.”

 

Harry took her arm and helped her sit down on top of the desk before sitting down beside her. “Maybe you should go back to your dormitory, if you don’t feel well.” he suggested. I’ll tell Snape that you’re ill.”

 

She put up her hand, pushing him away. “No, I’m fine really,” she assured him. “I just needed to sit down.”

 

“Okay,” he said, putting his hands at his sides. “Just let me know if you’re going to… like faint or something, so I can make sure that you don’t crack your skull open.”

 

Pansy realized that he was trying to lighten the mood, but she couldn’t even give him a chuckle. “I’m sorry, Harry,” was all she could get out at that second. And boy, was she ever sorry. She was in the worst possible situation ever! Not only did she have feelings for Harry Potter, but he was head over heels for Hermione! This couldn’t possibly work out for her!

 

Harry leaned down so that his head was level to hers. “What are you sorry about? Everything is all my fault, you know.” When she didn’t say anything, he went on, “This morning just killed me, so I had to talk to you about it. I want you to be my friend, Hermione, and what happened last night… that was way out of line. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

 

Pansy nodded. But she knew what he was thinking. He was so transparent that one might mistake him for a ghost. The only reason Harry had said those words was so that things might have a chance of going back to normal. That was just the kind of guy he was… he didn’t want to ruin the friendship that he had with Hermione.

 

And damn it, that made her want to kiss him more!

 

But she swallowed her feelings and turned to look at him, hoping that the tears would stay in her eyes and not seep onto her warm cheeks. “It’s okay, Harry,” she said. “Let’s just forget that it happened, and we can move on.” It was what Hermione would say, after all.

 

Part of him looked broken, but the other part of him gave her a crooked smile as he jumped up from the desk. “Great,” he said. “Now, are you sure you’re feeling okay? I mean, if you’re really sick, Snape can’t be mad if you skip his class.”

 

“I’m fine,” Pansy insisted. “If you could just help me down…” She was afraid she might fall over once her feet hit the ground.

 

Harry took her hand as she hopped off of the desk, and they stood there at the front of the Charms classroom looking at each other for a moment longer than was necessary.

 

“Come on,” he said, pulling her towards the door. “I don’t want to be late again. Snape gives detention if you’re late two days in a row.”

_____________________________________________________________________

During Potions, Draco stared at the letter sticking out of his bag. He had been looking forward to the Christmas holiday since the second week of school that year. He enjoyed spending time with his friends at school, of course, but there was nothing like Christmas time at Malfoy Manor. Everything was so extravagant at home, and sometimes, when he wasn’t having the best of days, he would think of lying in his huge bed in his huge bedroom and listening to the music from Father’s Christmas party that was held every year in the ball room. Last year Father had told him that he would be able to attend the party when he was sixteen.

 

 

But now that he was sixteen, there would be no Malfoy Christmas party. It seemed a little unfair to Draco. And part of him wondered if his father had planned it all just in spite of him.

 

“Mr. Malfoy, did you hear the question?”

 

Draco shook himself out of his thoughts and looked up at Professor Snape. “No, Professor,” he said. “I’m sorry, could you please repeat the question?”

______________________________________________________________________

Harry followed his Quidditch team mates onto the field and launched into the air on his broom. He looked down at the grass and the empty stands, watching as everything became smaller and smaller. Part of him felt as though he were soaring high but the rest of him felt like he was flying head on towards the depths of Azkaban.

 

 

While everything was now okay with Hermione despite his horrible move the night before, he still was disappointed. Inside, he had been hoping that maybe she would confess her feelings to him when he apologized, and then lunge at him with a passionate kiss.

 

So much for hopes and dreams. He would settle for her friendship, and he would cherish every moment.

______________________________________________________________________

Ron and Hermione sat on the bench besides the changing rooms watching the Gryffindor team soar around above them, practicing for their first big match against Slytherin that Saturday afternoon.

 

 

Ron wasn’t going to go, not at first anyway, but when he saw Harry and Hermione laughing together just like it was before the whole mess had started, his spirits had lifted dramatically. Perhaps things would be back to normal soon, if they weren’t already.

 

“You cold?” he asked, noticing that she was rubbing her hands together.

 

“I’m okay,” she assured him, and they both went back to watching the team.

 

After a moment of zoning out, Ron took a deep breath and glanced back at her. “So what happened between you and Harry?” he wanted to know. “One second you weren’t saying a word to each other and doing everything possible to avoid each other to going back to normal again. I mean… what happened?”

 

Hermione, her cheeks already pink from the chilly air, blushed an even deeper red as Ron rambled on about her and Harry. “It’s really no big deal, Ron. And it’s over, so you don’t even have to worry about it ever again.”

 

Ron felt a little jilted and a bit left behind as well. But then again, he remembered the incident just a few days ago where it was Hermione trying to find out a secret that he was hiding. Now the tables were turned.

 

So he decided to set it aside for now. She was right. If it really wasn’t over, he would find out later on, right?

 

But what if there would be something he could do to help them? And prevent whatever this disturbance was perhaps he could prevent it from happening in the future.

 

If she would just tell him!

 

He folded arms over his chest and sank down in the bench, pouting. Well, this just sucked. He was being cast out by his best of friends.

 

She poked him in the arm with her elbow. “Quit pouting,” she muttered. “You just have to trust me, okay, Ron?”

 

“Yeah,” he muttered, looking away from her. “Whatever.”

 

It was disturbing when he was keeping Harry’s secret, but being the friend left out was even worse. Perhaps three really was a crowd.

________________________________________________________________________

 After several long minutes sitting next to a dreadfully silent Ron, Pansy said she was getting a little too cold to be sitting on a metal bench, and left him to himself to continue his brooding.

 

 

She stomped back up to the castle and opened the door to the side hallway that she knew led straight into the Slytherin side of the dungeons. She needed some alone time, and this time she knew that she could hide in hers and Draco’s secret place, because she knew exactly where Hermione was. She had seen her and Draco at the other end of the field, waiting for the Gryffindor team to finish their practice so that the Slytherin team could take the field.

 

After looking both ways to make sure that no one was lurking in the hall, she quickly made her way to the room and slipped inside.

 

It was Thursday… only five days after they had made the potion… and everything since then had changed in Pansy’s world. She felt a little culture shocked as she curled up on the couch, drawing her knees to her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs. How in the hell would she get through another nine days until the potion was ready, and she could turn back into Pansy Parkinson for good? What kind of other strange occurrences would happen in the meantime?

 

She spent several minutes sniffing, trying to hold in her tears, and then got up from the couch and sat on the floor right in front of the place where Hermione had last hidden the potion out of sight. She reached underneath and slid it out carefully.

 

Pansy looked down at its contents. She wasn’t actually sure what it was supposed to look like, but the important thing was, it was still there and still unchanged… which mean everything was going just about as well as it could go… potion wise.

 

Her life, on the other hand, didn’t feel as together as the big bowl of purple mush.

_____________________________________________________________________

Hermione stood next to Draco as he tossed his broom back and forth from his left to his right hand and then back again. “This season is going to be completely wicked,” he said, the broom resting back into his right hand. “You’ll see.” He leaned in towards Hermione. “We’re going to completely bury Potter and those other Gryffindors.”

 

 

Hermione leaned against the stands, nodding for his benefit. “Mm hmm,” she mumbled. “I guess we’ll find out on Saturday, huh?”

 

“Yeah,” he agreed as he took a place besides her, their arms pressing together.

 

Hermione moved away from him slightly. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for practice?” she asked.

 

Draco leaned back against her arm. “Why, Pans…” he grinned. “You act like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

 

She resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. He couldn’t have been more right. His stupid condescending attitude was giving her a complete migraine. “That’s not it,” she assured him just as several other players started to make their way onto the field. Her saving grace! “It’s just that your team is already getting started,” she pointed.

 

“Oh!” he exclaimed, launching himself away from the wall and running towards the field. “Watch me out there, Pans! I’ll make you proud!”

 

This time Hermione really did roll her eyes after he turned his head and hopped onto his broom. She caught a glimpse of Ron sitting by himself on a cold bench at the other side of the field and stared at him.

 

She wished she could be sitting beside him instead of standing alone next to the Slytherin stands.

_____________________________________________________________________

Pansy returned back to the dormitories after awhile, and was hoping she was just in time to miss the Quidditch crowd making their way back from the field. And the Common Room was practically deserted.

 

 

Except for Ron, who was sitting on the couch in front of the blazing fireplace, directly in the middle with his head in his hands. When she entered, he sat up straight and looked at her.

 

Pansy tried not to show her disappointment as she approached him. “Hey.”

 

“Hey,” he replied, and then looked back at the fire as if she had never even walked up to him.

 

For some reason, this annoyed Pansy deeply. She sat down beside him and elbowed him hard in the ribs. “Look here, Ron,” she said, when he yelped and covered his injury with his hand. “You may think you’re all hurt and sensitive, but you know what? The world doesn’t revolve around you.”

 

Ron leaned away from her, looking at her as if she had just sworn allegiance to the Dark Lord. “Are you completely mad?” he demanded after the initial shock had worn off.

 

Pansy folded her arms over her chest and glared at him impatiently. “You are acting like a spoiled child, Ron! Grow up and realize that not everyone is specifically thinking of you in their actions!”

 

Ron stood up, his face turning beet red at an amazingly rapid rate. “And did it ever occur to you, Hermione, that maybe that’s not what I was worried about? Did you ever think that maybe I was worried about the exact opposite?”

 

She stared at him, trying to put his words together.

 

“I’m not worried about you and Harry purposely hurting me, I’m not that much of a dolt, and I know you wouldn’t do that to me.” He took a deep breath. “I’m worried that you’ll forget about me altogether, is all.”

 

Pansy stared at him, suddenly realizing that this was not a conversation that she should be having with Ron. This is something that should be happening with Ron, Harry and Hermione as they grew older and matured… and she was definitely not Hermione. She felt as though she were cheating them out of something important.

 

And she looked away from his face.

 

“What?” he said, taking a step closer to her. “What is it?”

 

Damn it, maybe he knew. Maybe he knew she was a fake.

 

“Hermione…” he said, sitting back down besides her and trying to look into her face. “Is something really wrong?”

 

She shook her head, but a tear that had escaped betrayed her.

 

“You know…” he said. “That no matter what it is… you can talk to me. Right?”

 

She tried to nod, but the floodgates were already open. She put her hands over her face in a pathetic attempt to try and hide her tears.

 

“Hermione!” Ron exclaimed. “What’s wrong?!”

 

“It’s nothing,” she managed to blubber out, but she knew it was hopeless. She was going to have to come up with some sort of silly lie to cover for herself. He would never believe that everything was okay after such a display of tears, and she very well couldn’t tell him that the reason she was so upset was because she had invaded Hermione’s privacy and felt like she was overstepping every line that had ever been drawn.

 

By the time she had uncovered her eyes, Ron had placed his hand on his shoulder and was looking at her awkwardly. “I guess I’m just a little stressed out over things,” she reworded. “If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell Harry? Not ever?”

 

Ron’s eyes widened, and he gulped. “Um… it’s hard for me to promise something like that before I know what it is…” he said hesitantly and honestly. “I mean… what’s it about?”

 

“Swear you won’t tell, first,” she said, taking his hand away from her shoulder and squeezing it tightly. “Ron, you have to.”

 

“Okay,” he squeaked. “I guess you can tell me… And I promise I won’t tell Harry, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Pansy gave a small sigh of relief and then took another deep breath. “I found out something about Harry,” she said, letting it out.

 

Ron’s eyes widened and his face turned pale. “What… about him?” he stammered.

 

“Let’s just say… I know how he feels about me,” she said quietly as she leaned in a little closer. “But you can’t say a word… because he didn’t actually say anything about it.”

 

“He didn’t!?”

 

“No!” she hissed back at him. “It was just obvious, okay? So that’s why it was awkward for a little bit. But don’t worry, because we talked it out and agreed to make sure that everything went back to normal.”

 

Ron was still blinking at her, probably still shocked. Pansy doubted that he and Hermione had ever had this sort of conversation before.

 

“So, now you know,” she made clear. “And now everything can go back to normal.”

 

But Ron still looked a little uncomfortable about the whole thing. “Thank you for telling me,” he said, “And I won’t tell Harry about this conversation… but are you sure you’re okay?”

 

Pansy dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “I’m fine,” she said. “Like I said before, the whole thing has kind of stressed me out.” She looked up at his face. “But I’m glad you know now. We can go back to normal too, then, right?”

 

He nodded and then patted her on the shoulder with an awkward smile. “Right.”

_______________________________________________________________________

 

Draco entered the Slytherin Common Room after Quidditch practice and headed straight for his room… but something caught his eye. Sitting in a nook under the staircase, with piles of books and paper laid out in front of her, was Pansy, and she was so absorbed into her reading, that she didn’t even notice him walk past her.

 

 

He stopped and stared at her for a moment. It was just that… he had never seen that look on her face before. He tried to remember why it seemed so familiar, but was at a loss. He wondered if Pansy was having trouble with her grades, and had taken on some extra credit. She seemed to have a lot more homework than normal lately.

 

“Hi, Pans,” he said, propping some of his Quidditch gear up against the stone wall.

 

She jumped, her quill flying out of her hand and landing on the floor, ink sprinkling on its way down. “Draco!” she exclaimed as she bent over to pick it up. “I thought practice would last longer.”

 

“Why,” he said, leaning against a pillar, “were you trying to avoid me?”

 

“No!” She set the quill back on top of the table and then grabbed a tissue to clean the ink up. “I just wanted a little peace and quiet,” she explained. “As you can see, I have quite a bit of homework to catch up on.”

 

“I can see.” He watched as she wiped up the ink, and then rose back up to the table. “You know, Pans… things have changed.”

 

She sat down and looked at him, straight on. “Excuse me?”

 

“I’m a little concerned about you,” he went on. “Either something is wrong, or… you’ve just changed.”

 

“Draco, how have I changed?! What’s wrong with me doing homework? Doesn’t everyone do homework?”

 

He stared at her, folding his arms over his chest. “Yes, most people do homework, and yes, you normally do as well. However, the level of homework that you’re currently doing is unnatural. You’re starting to remind me of Granger, for Merlin’s sake, Pansy.”

 

Pansy dropped her quill again, and more ink went splattering to the floor. “I am nothing like that girl!” she exclaimed. “And I’m offended that you would even accuse me of it!” She left her quill on the floor and scooped up her homework in her arms.

 

Draco watched as she shoved past him and ran off to her dormitory. “Well, geez,” he said. “I had no idea she was so sensitive.”