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“Granger!” Pansy’s greeting was an excited interruption to her studying, and Madam Pince shot the Slytherin a warning glance as she slung an arm around Hermione.
Across the table, Harry’s mouth dropped for the umpteenth time, and Draco rolled his eyes.
You see, the Gryffindor just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his best friend, the girl he’d spent months in the Forest of Dean hunting horcruxes with, was dating the infamous Pansy Parkinson. Draco had somewhat accepted the fact that his own childhood bestie had fallen for the bookworm (at the end of the war, he’d realized that there were much important factors to consider when insulting someone than their blood status), but it was nasty at best when they...touched each other. It was completely different than the way Potter held his hand, or wrapped an arm around his shoulders, or pulled him close to keep warm from the snow. Because Draco Malfoy, unlike his best friend Pansy, was undeniably straight. And there were no doubts about that.
What he should’ve doubted was the quirky smirk on Pansy’s face at his reaction, or the quick and fleeting peck she placed to Granger’s cheek.
Because, you see, Hermione wasn’t dating Pansy Parkinson, no, not at all. Every piece of their facade was a part of the Slytherin’s grand plan to show Draco Malfoy that there was no harm in openly falling in love with the Savior of the Wizarding World.
Because, it was obvious, you know.
Hermione had noticed the subtle closeness growing between the former rivals; the late night laughs by the eighth year common room fire and the apologies that found peace between them after the war. The slide between hands when they thought no one was looking. The smile that she’d seen vacant from Harry’s face until Draco walked into the room.
Which is why she’d agreed to her newest best friend’s scheme to bring the two together. Draco was the stubborn one, and Hermione would typically refrain from playing God in these types of situations. But the blonde’s inability to come to terms with his sexuality called for desperate measures.
Hermione Granger, after all, had come to terms with her own bisexual awakening after their return to Hogwarts. She’d of course always had an inkling of her dual desires, but nothing and no one had caused these urges to come to the front of her mind until now. That’s right, it was Pansy Parkinson that had strolled into the common room one Friday evening in a skirt that was hiked a bit too high and a v-neck that was cut a smidge too low. And suddenly, her head was reeling.
But she’d never admit that, especially in their current...predicament. With Pansy unobtrusively close at all times of day and night, doing her absolute best to convince Draco that being gay was okay, Granger refrained from admitting any real feelings she may have experienced. It was all an act, after all, right?
Anything else just might ruin everything.
Which is why she smiled softly at Pansy’s introductory peck on the cheek and closed her book, enjoying every piece of their fake paradise.
&&&
Pansy Parkinson had no shame in flaunting her “relationship” with Hermione Granger to the entire school. She paraded her best friend throughout the corridors, lacing fingers and pressing kisses to her forehead between classes. It was a long few weeks that brought Hermione to the impending question of how much longer their game would play out.
She loved every moment, every breath that Pansy held close to her cheek, every shudder that trickled down her spine at the sudden contact of her touch. But she hated the dishonest teasing that seemed to rip at her insides when they were apart, the aching reminder that it was just that: a game. An act. A mask.
She was tired of wearing one. She wanted Pansy, through and through. Possessiveness throbbed whole-heartedly throughout her being; tired thoughts reverberated against her skull.
One week later found Draco and Harry locking lips at the Three Broomsticks, hovering over their shared butterbeer at a table adjacent to the rest of the eighth years’.
Hermione’s mouth dropped at their apparent success, and Pansy’s lips pulled into a smug grin.
“We did it, Granger,” she whispered against the shell of her ear, and Hermione fought the urge to melt helplessly into her chair. She settled for a soft nod, observing the absolute happiness unfolding before them. Ignoring the emptiness growing within her own gut.
It seemed their game was about to end. They’d won, and it was far more crummy than she’d expected it to be.
After a while, she rose to head back to the castle with the obvious excuse that she had some studying to get done before Monday.
“I’ll come with you,” Pansy offered, standing immediately. Hermione didn’t have it in her to say no.
The path to Hogwarts was freshly covered with snow, and Hermione wrapped her cloak around herself even more tightly as new flakes began to fall from the sky. It was at this moment that she felt Pansy pull her to a stop, unraveling her own Slytherin scarf and placing it around her neck. She’d never known just how homely green and silver stripes could feel.
“Thank you,” Hermione admitted softly, and Pansy’s lips twitched into a smile.
“I can’t have you freezing to death, Granger. Then I’d have to spend the rest of my life without you, and Parkinson’s can’t stand to be alone.” She winked, and Hermione shuffled her feet nervously.
“You know, we don’t have to do this anymore, Pansy.” Hermione cocked her head, the ache of dishonesty eating her gut. “We did it. Draco and Harry are happy. We don’t have to... pretend anymore.”
Pansy glanced down at her feet before placing gloved hands warmly against each of Hermione’s biceps.
“You don’t want to be my girlfriend?”
She smiled jokingly, but there was a hint of hope twinkling behind her jade eyes. Hermione noticed this and immediately began stumbling upon her words.
“Actually, it’s been quite nice, I mean- if you don’t want to then of course, but I’ve liked you for quite some time, and, perhaps if you-“
Pansy was quite tired of the talking, and she pressed her lips hard against Granger’s in the rudest, but greatest of interruptions.
Everything except the snow seemed to melt, and Pansy pulled her not-so-fake girlfriend even closer as their first kiss deepened.
Lips parted, tongues became flush. Cheeks were rosy, and that had nothing to do with the bite of the wind.
Eventually, they separated.
“I meant everything, Granger.” Pansy stared deeply into chocolate brown eyes, and suddenly they both were laughing with relief.
“So, does this mean we can continue to play pretend?” Hermione smiled, arms wrapped around the Slytherin.
“There is nothing fake about us being girlfriends, Granger. My feelings for you are more than real. I may have been laying it on thick on purpose, you know.” She winked, and Hermione caught herself giggling lightly with a mixture of butterflies and repreive.
Hand in hand, they left footsteps in the snow that were much closer than they’d ever been before.
As they disappeared along the path to the castle, Harry smiled and leaned against a very self-appeased Draco, who sported a red and gold scarf himself with pride.
“We did it, Harry,” he declared, arms folded across his chest. “We faked not dating so that those two would get their heads out of their arses and start dating... to get us to start dating.”
Harry laughed, shaking his head. “I mean. I knew you were a Slytherin, Draco, but this was bloody brilliant. Even for you.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty awesome.”
“Oh, Shut up.” Harry pulled his boyfriend in for a kiss as snowflakes continued to fall from the sky above them. It was the start of something undeniably... real.