A/N: Heys. Hellos. How goes. This is HGxGW. Don't like, don't read. Do like, do review. :D I don't own the Potter series, o' course. Ignore any typos and enjoy!

It was simple, really. Slytherins were not inherently cruel or evil; they were merely a manipulative bunch of people well-trained in the art of sarcasm. Pity the person who didn't know the difference, I always thought. No wonder the house of green and silver was a mildly reclusive, tight-knit group. Everyone understood each other on a level that nobody else seemed to grasp.

I, Pansy Parkinson, have always known myself to be an inherently good person. But as a smart, independent, intelligent young woman, I find the notion of limiting myself to calm, somber, serious acts of kindness quite ludicrous; where's the fun in that? There's no challenge or excitement to such a thing. Plus, sometimes people genuinely need a good kick in the rear to get them started off in the right direction and no one else is ever willing to provide it.

Thus, it was no wonder, really, that I found myself sitting across from two blushing and extremely awkward looking Gryffindors, at their house table no less. I ignored the stares, gasps, and whispers of the Great Hall as I contemplated the two before me with an easy smirk. The rest of them didn't matter. Those who did, my real friends, all sat with knowing smiles twitching at the edges of their lips, paying me not the least bit of attention. Everyone else could gape in shock for all I cared.

"So…" I started off, carefully putting my words together and probing for the opportune time to weave them into wherever this new conversation might lead.

"Did you need something in particular, Parkinson?" Hermione Granger asked coolly, though not unpleasantly so. There was an underlying touch of curiosity to her voice. Perfect.

"Well," I drawled, "I recently heard a rumor that you, of all people, are the smartest witch in our year." Ginny Weasley gave an unattractive snort at the skepticism in my tone, and well she might. Of course I already knew of Granger's academic status. I mean, who didn't? But I've always found the best way for a Slytherin to compliment a Gryffindor is to insult them; it's just about the only way to get one to take a snake seriously. They always get suspicious if you come right out and say their shirt looks nice or whatever it is. "I was wondering if you could help me with a question or two of mine…?" I did my best to keep my voice dangerously polite and my expression unbelievably innocent as I spoke. I needed to draw up their defenses so as to startle them all the more when I snuck my way through them.

"I…see…" Hermione said cautiously. It was clear that she didn't. I did my best to hold back a chuckle, merely letting my smirk widen the slightest bit. "What was it you wanted to ask?"

"I was wondering…" I leaned in close, as a friend with a juicy bit of gossip might. It effectively caused the hairs on the backs of their necks to rise. "Do you suppose," I whispered dramatically, "that if two people blush every time they see each other, noticeably so, that they might fancy each other?" They both looked shell-shocked at the nature of the question. It took a good minute or two for Granger to respond, clearly trying to guess what on earth I was getting it.

"Y-yes, I suppose they might."

"Mmm" I made a show of nodding like the reasonable, rational person they were both sure I wasn't. "And, if they also have a tendency to stammer or clam up, get really awkward or giddy around each other when they both are otherwise generally confident, sociable people?"

Granger froze again, but was quicker this time to begin nodding slowly in response. "That would seem to fit, yes." Weasley remained on high alert, though, leaving the mind games to Granger. She was so obviously suspicious of me it was nearly laughable. I did my best to reign in the amusement, determined to play my game.

"And what if they also spend far more time with each other than any of their other friends? Not only that, but they're far more protective of each other than anyone else, almost to the point of irrationality?" I continued to speak in an over dramatic, slightly antagonistic tone. I waited until I saw Granger begin to nod in agreement before continuing. "If they both hold each other just a little too long when they hug? And they always seem to gaze longingly at each other from across rooms? And, of course, they turn down all romantic requests from other people and rarely even notice other people if ever in that fashion?" Granger continued bobbing her head up and down, her mind clearly working furiously to pick up some sub-text or innuendo that she was quite certain must be present in my speech. "If they were so obvious that even the most oblivious people noticed and gave them space and time together? So obvious that, say they were both in Gryffindor, even a few disinterested Slytherins would notice?" She kept right on nodding for a couple of seconds before she realized I had finished speaking.

"Yes, I daresay they might." Granger stated, still looking extremely befuddled.

"How likely would it be, do you think? I mean, supposing they denied it vehemently and both seemed genuinely certain that, at the very least, the other did not like them?" Ah, my final question. I so dearly hoped she would answer correctly.

"Quite likely, I would say. You could be almost certain." Perfect! She knit her brows together, sensing the approach of my conclusion.

"You admit, then, that it is…'almost certain'…that you fancy Weasley here, and that she fancies you?" Both of their jaws dropped and each turned a marvelous shade of red. It was downright adorable. "I mean…" I raised an eyebrow delicately.

They abruptly regained control of their motor functions once more, turning simultaneously to sneak a look at the other. Catching each other's gazes, their blushes deepened a few more shades before Ginny Weasley turned to stare at her lap and Granger shakily met my eyes. "I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about, Parkinson." Her voice wavered nervously.

I feigned shock, arranging my features to display mock innocence once more. "But even that other Weasley knows. He was talking it over with the Potter boy the other day." I paused for a moment, building up the tension. "And, of course, I'm here, aren't I?" I let my face fall into my favorite smirk, the one that told people I had won and I knew it.

I chose that moment to stand up, laughter bubbling out of me as I made my way back to my table and friends. Oh, that was just too much fun. Allowing my smile to regain some of its private warmth, I sat down next to Blaise and began to serve myself some salad. "How did it go?" he whispered conspiratorially. "Do you think they'll figure it out now?" I could hear the excitement in his voice build up like a child's. It added to my already growing warmth.

"I think so. Maybe…" I said. I snuck a peak over my shoulder at the Gryffindors. Granger and Weasley were exactly the same shade of red they were when I left. The redheaded girl seemed to be speaking urgently to the brunette, trying to convince her of something while Granger tried and failed to change the subject. Turning back to Blaise, I continued. "I certainly hope so. They've been at a standstill for months now. It's downright torturous to watch." He nodded solemnly in agreement before shifting to meet my gaze once more and smiling questioningly. I bit my lip a moment, then nodded vigorously with excitement. We both turned sneakily to look at the Gryffindor table once more.

Granger seemed almost hysterical as Weasley continued to speak. She tried to stand and leave but her bag got caught on the bench. By the time she untangled the strap, the Weasley girl had come to her senses and grabbed the brunette's wrist, pulling her back down to a sitting position. It took only one moment of stillness before the redhead surged forward, catching Granger's lips with her own. Once her overly large brain processed what was happening (or stopped trying to) the brunette fervently returned the kiss, quickly melting into Weasley's hold and drawing the attention of half the Great Hall.

Blaise and I faced each other once more, grinning like a couple of idiots. Together, barely loud enough to hear, we whispered a celebratory, "Yes!"

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