A Deal Made on Impluse

The next morning Ginny goes through the motions just like every other day. Except today, instead of doing them out of necessity, she does them out of distraction. Or want of a distraction, though it’s not really working.

The whole time her mind is elsewhere; in a fog. She couldn’t stop thinking about the deal she made yesterday. What was she thinking? How is she supposed to pull off fake dating Pansy? She can’t even pull off dating someone for real, granted that is largely due to Dean and his wondering eyes and general boringness, but still.

Ginny threw on her socks and loafers and rushed out the door in hopes of making it to breakfast in time. Because of her distracted thoughts this morning, she was running behind schedule and only had about twenty minutes to make it to the dining hall and eat. She would be cutting it close with the moving staircases never being predictable.

Making her way through the stone halls, littered with paintings to the roof of the castle, she heard a few portraits mutter, “You best hurry Mrs. Weasly,”

She didn’t know exactly which painting it came from but if she had to guess she would say it was probably one of the petty ones. Sure the statement they made was unassuming but when you spend enough time in these old buildings you learn that some of the pictures have nothing better to do than remind you of your shortcomings.

She rounded one of the last corners before the dining hall doors rather fast. Too fast, if the chest she collides with says anything.

“Oof,” she bounces off the person, extending an arm out to steady her and the person she just ran into head-on. Her eyes travel up from the little heeled Mary Jane shoes to the sheer stockings, then the green pleated skirt, and the black school sweater.

When her eyes finally meet that of her trampled victims she realizes that they belong to the source of all her current anxiety.

“Just the woman I wanted to see,” Pansy smiles down at her.

“Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” Ginny points a thumb over her shoulder to the hall she just came from.

“I can see that,” she has a teasing smile on her face.

“Yeah… sorry,” Ginny looks behind the woman in search of an escape plan. She still isn’t sure how to act around Pansy or what to say, and she’s beyond embarrassed by what just happened.

“Ginny?”

“Yeah,” she cuts her attention back to Pansy.

“It’s fine. You don’t need to keep apologizing.” Her smile is warm; almost comforting.

“Right sor-” she cuts herself off realizing her mistake, “Right,” she oh so gracefully finishes. Ugh, must she be so awkward? She fights the urge to slap a palm to her forehead.

The two women sit in silence for a moment. Ginny rocks back on her heels, searching her brain for a way to end the tension.

Before she can find a solution, however, Pansy speaks up, “Walk with me?” and nods her head back towards the dining hall.

Ginny hesitates. She’s stewing in her bumbling deminer this morning and Pansy’s strangely confident aura today is no help to her pity party. She racks her brain looking for an excuse to not walk with her but can’t. What is she supposed to say; no? She nods.

The women fall in step next to each other, making their way to breakfast. Even though she may be late to eat this morning, Ginny can’t deny that it does feel nice to slow down and take a breath. Even if that is because she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Please don’t let it be her calling off our deal. While the potential of lying to all the people they love and the rest of the school is daunting, she doesn’t think she’ll recover if Pansy decides Ginny isn’t worth the hassle. Or worse if she found someone else to help her convince her parents.

“Right. Hufflepuff is having a Party tomorrow night. I was thinking we could debut this little… arrangement there.” The only sign Pansy shows of being nervous is her stumble in broaching the topic of their fake relationship. For some reason, the knowledge that Pansy might also feel overwhelmed by all this brings Ginny comfort. At least she isn’t alone.

The pair comes to a stop off to the side of the open grand doors to the dining room. Four tables stretch the length of the room, above each floating in the air are house flags and candles. Today the roof is normal stone but every day is a guessing game, sometimes it will be covered in clouds or rain or stars, it really just depends.

“Yeah that’s fine with me,” Ginny agrees to her plan. It will be good to try this arrangement in a place where half the attendees will be so drunk they won’t remember what happened in the morning. It will be like a trial, and if it goes horribly they can call it quits and most people won’t even know there was anything to call off in the first place.

Pansy smiles at her answer like it pleases her but there does seem to be a hint of something else buried way deep down there; fear maybe. The sounds of dishware clinking and chatting students are the soundtrack to their tension-filled stares.

Ginny shoves the thought away and tries to focus back on the present. It’s really none of her business anyway, this arrangement is purely transactional.

“Perfect. Well, I’ll see you in class girlfriend,” Pansy chuckles at the term, bringing Ginny out of her haze.

“Mhm,” is all she gets out before Pansy walks towards the Slytherin table to join Blaise and her other peers. A chill runs down Ginny’s spine as she processes what Pansy just said. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to Pansy calling her girlfriend, fake or not.

She shakes her head and maneuvers to the space next to Neville and across from Harry and Hermione.

Once her best friend notices her presence she peeks up from her book. Before anyone can even greet her Harry speaks up, “Was that Pansy Parkinson you were talking to?”

Ginny pauses, her hands suspended in the air from spreading jam on the toast she was going to eat. However, suddenly eating anything makes her stomach churn. Of course, her friends saw them talking, why wouldn’t they? They were standing in the doorway to the crowded dining room, and she was a Gryffindor talking to a Slytherin.

It’s not unheard of, of course, look at Hermione and Draco for example but the house pride runs deep. After all, it’s not every day you see much crossover of houses, that is unless there is a party to be had. One thing that brings all the houses together is a good common room party, especially if it’s a Hufflepuff event.

“Umm, yeah,” Ginny finally sputters out after a few seconds under Harry's scrutinizing gaze, and now the rest of their friends, who are in hearing range.

“Harry, when is the next Quittage game?” Hermione saves her from further questioning by cutting in.

“On Sunday. It’s us against Ravenclaw; a guaranteed win if I do say so myself.” Harry luckily gets distracted by sports talk with the other players near him and forgets all about his previous suspicions.

Ginny looks to Hermione and mouths a thank you before the other woman returns to whatever Muggle book she’s reading today.

Ginny thinks she’s off the hook but notices Neville’s watchful eye from behind her. She just looks up at him, casting the most sincere smile she can muster, and goes back to preparing her food. Denial is the best move. At least until tomorrow night, she thinks. Neville thankfully lets whatever he’s thinking go and returns to his own meal.

Towards the end of breakfast, Harry asks whatever friends remain at the table, “Hufflepuff is having a party tomorrow night, are we all going?”

It’s just their tight-knit group remaining now: Neville, Luna, the twins, the golden trio, and her. Harry usually refers to them all as a group rather than individuals, and Ginny loves that about him. It makes them feel like a family more than a group of unlikely friends.

They all mutter versions of yes over the top of one another.

“Great,” Harry concludes before he’s popping up from the table and walking away. He turns around to face the table once more only walking backward now, “I’ve got practice but I’ll see you lot later.” And then he’s gone.

Fred chuckles, “That kid has got more energy than anyone I know, and that’s coming from me.” The table erupts with snickers. It’s true Harry is like a puppy, always bouncing from place to place, commanding the attention of whatever room he’s in, and they all love him for it.

They all get up after throwing out goodbyes heading in their own directions to whatever they have planned for that day.

————

Lucky and also unlucky for Ginny she had an exam in Astronomy that day. Unlucky because really, who likes exams? But lucky because her need to focus on the exam meant her mind quieted even if it was only for an hour.

She set her mind to taking and acing the text and that's exactly what she did. No thoughts of Pansy or Hufflepuff parties, or impending doom slipped through her very high: I have an exam, don’t fuck with me, walls that she builds brick by brick when it comes to academic performance.

The little builders in her mind however reappeared the second she left the Astronomy tower and took a jackhammer to the wall so now the thoughts are rushing back to the forefront of her mind.

How would they pull this off? How would she convince Dean not to harass her anymore? How would she protect her heart from all of this? All things currently racing through her mind and she enters the Potions classroom.

When she settles into her seat, the builders come back once more to begin building the wall again. Their work is halted however when she looks up to find a man across the room staring back at her.

No just any man, Blaise Zambine. How the fuck could she have forgotten she has this class with Blaise, Pansy’s best friend. He’s got this mischievous glint in his eyes that confuses Ginny. It’s not evil, in fact, it's more playful than anything.

Did he know about her and Pansy? Did he know it was fake? That was probably the better question.

A little smirk graced Blaise’s face and he began wiggling his eyebrows at her like the boys do in grammar school when they find out their friend has a crush.

Ginny couldn’t help but smirk at his actions; oh he was going to be trouble wasn’t he?

Just then Snape entered the room, his robes switching behind him in an awfully dramatic fashion, “Open your books to chapter 7.” He instructed without greeting.

Gone were the laughs, now the room fell silent as students did as instructed, too scared to piss off Snape more than his natural amount. Even Blaise the class clown went about his business.