"The Quiet Ones"
Chapter Seven: Operation Pink Frilly Socks

Herbology was not a class favored by Slytherins. The greenhouses were hot and humid, the instructor a touch on the perky side, and the subject material dealt with plants. If the Slytherins had their way, herbology would be condensed to cover only the dangerous forms of magical vegetation.

It was time for Operation Pink Frilly Socks to be launched. The designation came from a comment by Tracey that if Pansy Parkinson designed the uniform, that would be the sock color for girls. Tracey thought that said a great deal about Pansy. As awful as the required gray knee socks were, they were no where near as humiliating as pink.

This was another reason the Slytherins did not care for herbology: they had the class with the Ravenclaws, who actually seemed to enjoy knee socks. Of course the Ravenclaws also enjoyed homework, so their opinions were suspect in the eyes of the other house.

Blaise took her usual spot beside Alan, where she was able to see Tracey waltz into the room with Malcolm at her heels. Tracey plunked herself down in the empty seat next to Padma Patil while Malcolm occupied the chair on the other side of his girlfriend.

"Morning Padma," Tracey said brightly. "I heard we will be working with dragonsnaps today."

"Really?" Padma asked, intrigued. "They are pretty rare and difficult to grow."

"Yes, but we are supposed to brew stuttering potions next week and one of the primary ingredients is dragonsnap extract."

"Snape could simply purchase the extract." Padma countered.

"Oh no," said Ravenclaw Lisa Turpin, an herbology geek if there ever was one. "The plant only grows wild in Tibet and they are protesting the latest round of fines from Muggle Yeti sightings by imposing huge tariffs on imports."

"Dragonsnaps are an export," reminded Padma.

Lisa glared at her. "I know that. But the countries that trade with Tibet have raised tariffs on Tibetan goods in response."

"Which includes dragonsnaps," concluded Tracey with a guileless smile. Blaise suspected that Tracey had worked out the entire conversation and its possible courses before she ever said a word to Padma. Blaise was impressed with her friend's planning and elevated her opinion of Tracey several notches.

"How do you keep up with such things?" Padma asked Tracey.

The Slytherin shrugged. "My mother operates the apothecary shop in Diagon Alley. Over the holidays she went on for ages about the situation. She is out of dragonsnaps until her own plants mature."

"I didn't know your mum owned that shop," Padma said.

"There are a lot of things you don't know." Tracey grinned and lowered her voice so that only Padma could understand what she was saying.

The Ravenclaw glanced at Malfoy and giggled a moment before Tracey clamped her hand over Padma's mouth.

"It's supposed to be a secret." Tracey hissed. Padma nodded, but it was obvious that she was itching to speak.

"What is supposed to be a secret?" Lisa demanded. To not be in the information loop amounted to torture for a Ravenclaw.

"Nothing," Tracey said, turning to her bored boyfriend to borrow a quill.

"I do love watching a professional at work," Sally-Anne commented under her breathe.

"I appreciated the 'supposed to be a secret' touch. Nothing spreads a rumor faster than pretending it is a secret." Blaise noted, looking at her watch. "It should be all over the school by lunchtime."

"At which time it will be our turn to fan the fans." Sally-Anne grinned.

* * *

"Did you hear about Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson?" The Slytherins heard a Hufflepuff tell her friends in the hall. The girls smirked.

"I'd say our operation was a success, wouldn't you?" Blaise asked Sally-Anne. "Our part of the plan would be rather redundant."

"Oh yes."

"You three are twisted." Alan declared, shaking his head. "Saying that Draco fancies Pansy is devious, cruel, and utterly brilliant."

"Jealous?"

"Absolutely."

"So how much longer should we continue our campaign against Malfoy?" Tracey asked.

"I say we wait and see the results, if they aren't what we want then we wait for his guard to lower again and plan anew." Blaise suggested.

"If the thundercloud storming toward the table is any indication, we will have to wait quite a long time." Sally-Anne observed, jerking her head in the direction of Draco Malfoy, who was walking toward the table with his spine so rigid it would be a wonder if it did not lock into place.

As Malfoy sat down, sandwiched between his two cronies, he was met by cat calls and teasing from his fellow Slytherins.

"So Malfoy when are you planning on presenting Parkinson with the Malfoy family betrothal ring?" Queenie Greinglass called.

"Say Draco, when you and Pansy have kids, remember to register them with the Weird and Dangerous Pets Office."

"Don't you mean Weird and Ugly Pets Office?" Chirped a rather bold third year who would probably pay for that remark later.

The Slytherins dissolved into laughter, the only exceptions being Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy was no where to be seen.

Malfoy stood up and fixed each Slytherin who had hurled a remark a glance that quite clearly stated 'you will be most sorry'. He then stalked off with so much fury in his stride that even Crabbe and Goyle remained at the table.

* * *

The third year who taunted Malfoy at lunch was found after dinner in a hallway with a blackened left eye and an interesting collection of hex marks. She promptly named Draco Malfoy as her attacker and Professor Snape ordered his favorite Slytherin to spend an evening scrubbing out and polishing his extensive collection of rusty cauldrons.

With the common room Malfoy free for the evening and future humiliations postponed until the results of round one could be fully analyzed, Alan decided it was a good time to begin his courtship of Sally-Anne. The only problem was that he had no idea how to go about this. Romance novels were useless as Sally-Anne was not a flowers and candy girl; the sort of dating advice his father had given really amounted to generic social advice.

He turned ideas over in his mind until one tumbled out. He grabbed his wand, a book from his trunk and returned to the common room where Sally-Anne was putting the final touches on her charms homework.

"Hey Sally-Anne," Alan said with a nervous smile. "I was wondering if you might help me with my DADA essay on enchanted weaponry."

"If you will check over my charms essay, sure. Enchanted weaponry is my forte." Sally-Anne exclaimed as she gestured for him to sit down.

"I know, that is why I came to you."

"My father owns the largest private collection in Britain," Sally-Anne told him proudly. "He even has Muggle pieces, that's how me met my mother. She is a dealer of Muggle antiquities."

"Really?" Alan asked. Sally-Anne went into more detail and Alan listened, intrigued. His own small plan had worked out even better than he hoped.

* * *

Next chapter: evaluation and decisions.

* * *

Reviewers: Kaylin, Lataradk, Bryn, Iniga

Bryn: remember, everything in this story is filtered through my characters - who do not have positive views of Draco.

Lataradk: Blaise's problem is that her imagination has filled in the visual images for the things that occurred while she was in the trunk. As for her family not discussing, in my experience most families tend to either bury stuff like that rather than dealing with them openly.