game, set, match.

33

FanFiction
Just In
Community
Forum

More
Game, set, match by Xrost
 Books » Harry Potter Rated: T, English, Humor & Romance, Millicent B., George W., Words: 61k+, Favs: 58, Follows: 76, Published: Mar 11, 2011 Updated: Jun 5
151 Chapter 33
Millicent curled Slug around her hand, watching as the ribbon wound in and out of her fingers. Moving transfiguration magic barely ever lasted this long, and when it did the object in question would get slow and clumsy. Slug was as agile as ever, sliding along with casual grace.

"What happened to my figurines?"

Millicent looked up to see a distressed-looking Daphne.

"I smashed them," she said. "Sorry. It couldn't be helped."

"My grandmother gave those to me," said Daphne.

Millicent shrugged. The Slytherins knew better than to keep prized possessions around Pansy or Draco. They were bound to be destroyed in some temper tantrum or another. Millicent assumed that Daphne found the porcelain figurines hideous and kept them on her bedside tables in the hopes that Pansy's temper would be the end of them.

"We heard some interesting bits of gossip last night," said Tracey, coming in to lean on Daphne's shoulder and smirking at Millicent.

"Do share," said Millicent, turning a page of the binding contract with her free hand.

Tracey grinned at her. "So, according to the ever-trusty school grape-vine, a certain red-headed twin was cavorting with a certain Slytherin…"

Millicent held up a hand. "Please do not say cavorting. Cavorting is not a word that should be used in polite society."

"Frolicking, then," said Daphne. "Romping."

Millicent shuddered. "Let's go back to cavorting."

Tracey's lips twisted in a sharp smile. "It's true, isn't it? You've gone to the dark side."

"And been sent back," said Millicent.

Daphne blinked. "What does that mean?"

"It means that the Weasley's reputation ranks more highly than I do. Apparently he thought of me as a secret kind of liaison."

Tracey's mouth dropped open. "Are you fucking serious? Why is he not hexed to within an inch of his life and lying in a hospital bed?"

Millicent snorted. "I dated him for like half an hour, Trace. As though I care enough to bother learning new hexes. I will need some help breaking this contract though."

"What kind of contract?"

Both Tracey and Daphne came across to curl up at the foot of the bed.

Millicent huffed out a furious breath. "It's the contract that Pansy and Granger were working on to force George to actually attend the ball with me. Looks like they found the books and put the contract together. And then he used it against me, the bastard."

"I thought he was ashamed of you," said Daphne.

"Ashamed enough to want to keep me secret. Apparently he changed his mind after I refused. And now, because of this damn contract, he expects me to spend the Yule Ball with him!"

Chewing her lower lip in trepidation, Tracey reached out to pick up the contract. She grunted at the heft of it, got a better grip with both hands and dragged it down to herself and Daphne.

"Merlin's wand," said Daphne. "Why are there so many footnotes? And how many cross-references to each piece of legislation does she think she needs?"

"What does the colour-coding mean?" asked Tracey, sounding frightened.

"There are appendices to explain how to navigate the contract, there's an index in case we want to see where else certain laws pop up and there are graphs." Millicent slumped back against the bedhead, glaring at them sulkily. If George hadn't interrupted her that morning, she would have hidden the books so well that the contract would never have been drawn up.

"You're done," said Daphne. "The only thing you can do is plot out the worst possible thing you could do to the Weasel, and then put it into play."

"Ha," said Millicent bitterly. "Do you think Granger's an idiot? She made sure to put in clauses forbidding any cruelty on the date."

"Huh," said Tracey, deflating. She glanced at Daphne then back to Millicent. "You're not getting out of that contract. I suggest that you find as much wriggle room as you can and use it."

"Or hospitalise the boy before the date so that he can't make it," said Daphne, ever the meticulous one.

Only, in this case, Granger was more meticulous. Millicent shook her head. "If he's hospitalised I have to stay by his side for the entirety of the ball. He'd love that. I'd have to spend time with him and he wouldn't even have to face the school. No, if he's forcing me along, I'm going to make sure it's the most hideously mortifying experience that he's ever had."

"Oh good," said Tracey. "It's so much more fun to humiliate Gryffindors than to date them. We can actually help with that without hating ourselves."

Millicent snorted.

The door slammed open and Pansy stormed in. "Oh, you're all here. Good. Let's go and get drunk."

"Everything okay?" asked Tracey, because obviously it wasn't.

Pansy's face was reddened as though she'd spent the past half hour scrubbing it clean. Either Creevey had kissed her again, or she'd gotten emotional and was trying to hide it. With Pansy it was kind of hard to tell. She didn't have blood on her hands though, so Millicent was leaning toward overemotional. Pansy and Draco were so much the same. No middle ground. "Everything's fine now. I just spent the night dealing with that awful Granger."

"Oh," said Daphne, brows arching in interest.

"I know." Pansy leant against the bedpost, folding her arms across her chest and scowling at the girls. "It's completely over now though. We found the laws and wrote them up. And we made that stupid card. There's no reason at all for her to want to spend any more time bothering me."

"Oh," said Daphne again, tone graver.

"So let's get drunk and celebrate." Pansy's voice was kind of furious, and the accompanying glare was no less menacing. Knowing her, she'd skull a half-bottle of Fire-Whiskey and send Granger owls all night. If Pansy was a normal kind of witch, that would work well. The owls would be flirty little notes that would probably win Granger over. Pansy wasn't even close to normal, though. Instead she'd likely be sending Howlers demanding why Granger kept invading her space and insisting that she never do it again.

The night would end in tears if Millicent agreed to drink it away with the girls; but it would end in hexes if she didn't. Even if she usually tried to be a good friend, there were limits.

"We're going to have to raid Trelawney's stash again," said Daphne, climbing to her feet. "We're all out."

Pansy made a face. "Her stuff's always so cheap."

"But high in alcoholic content," Tracey pointed out.

Pansy didn't look any happier, but she shrugged.

« First « Prev Ch 33 of 34 Next »

 Review

Share: Email . Facebook . Twitter
Story:  Follow  Favorite
Author:  Follow  Favorite
Go
Contrast: Dark . Light
Font: Small . Medium . Large . XL
Desktop/Tablet Mode . Blog . Twitter . Help . Sign Up