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Pansy wandered out of the changing room and onto the sidelines of the Quidditch Pitch. Her fellow Aurors in training were busy complaining to each other - about the summer heat, or being placed at Hogwarts for duelling training, or their accommodations at The Three Broomsticks - but Pansy was honed in.
Today was day one of their duel training regimen, and the Head of the Auror Department, Gawain Robards, would be performing their initial assessments. Pansy was ready to shine, to make a name for herself as a standout of their Auror class. She stood on the sidelines, watching a pair of trainees duel it out on the greens under Robards’s watchful eye. Dean Thomas impressively outsmarted his opponent, distracting the wizard by yelling out the fire-making incantation before casting a sly, non-verbal Incarcerous. After the wizard was bound, Thomas easily disarmed his opponent and Robards declared him the winner of the duel.
It was an interesting tactic, albeit unadventurous, but Pansy knew her own assigned opponent wouldn’t be so easily fooled. She joined the Aurors in polite applause as the witch in question approached from behind and took up the spot next to her.
“Don’t go easy on me out there,” she said, her voice low.
An amused, hiss-like snicker slipped through Pansy’s teeth. “Why do you think I would go easy on you, Granger?”
“Because we—” Granger fidgeted anxiously and stumbled on her words. “I just thought that—”
“Oh, please. You think I would hold back because we, what? Shared my bed a few times? Snogged behind the Leaky Cauldron?” Pansy scoffed and shook her head.
Out of the corner of her eye, Pansy watched Granger as she bit her lip and furrowed her brow, her eyes on the field. She wore their standard trainee robes. Hideous though they were, the garment hugged Granger’s fit figure in a way that made her far more appealing than any of the other witches. Her thick curls were neatly tied back, accentuating the smooth curve of her neck and exposing her collarbones. Granger was fetching, Pansy would give her that.
She couldn’t stop herself from sliding closer to the brunette and leaning in. Drinking in the intoxicating perfume of Granger’s lavender shampoo, Pansy breathed a proposition into her ear. “I’ll tell you what. If you manage to disarm me, I’ll take you out for a proper date. Someplace nice.”
Granger’s posture stiffened. “And why do you think I’d want to go on a date with you?”
“I didn’t.” Pansy grinned wickedly. “But you’re blushing.”
“I am not–”
“Granger, Parkinson. You’re up,” Robards’s assistant called out, summoning them to the field.
Pansy extended her arm, gesturing for Granger to lead the way, and took the opportunity to examine her backside as she stormed ahead. A fine arse indeed. Pansy rushed to catch up. “So, do we have a deal?"
“Be serious, Pansy. This is important.”
“Oh, but I’m very serious,” Pansy goaded, taking up her spot across from Granger at the center of the field as they awaited their instruction.
“Aurors, are you ready?” Robards’s voice reached them by an amplifying charm from his spot in the stands.
“Yes, sir,” they both chanted.
“Very well. We are observing proper duelling etiquette today. Unforgivables are prohibited. There are no other rules. Aurors, you may begin.”
Pansy locked in on Granger’s golden brown eyes as they moved in unison, first raising their wands vertically in front of their faces, and then sweeping down to their sides. They both leaned into perfunctory bows, and Pansy offered her a wink before pivoting and stepping in the opposite direction. When they faced each other again and slid into their combative position, Pansy was hard and sharp, all flirtation expelled from her body and mind.
Granger was too reserved to make the first move, but Pansy didn’t hesitate. Aiming for the grass two metres in front of Granger, she shot out a fast blasting curse and forced her lovely opponent into the defensive. Grass and dirt erupted from the ground, which Granger easily repelled with a braking charm, and then a quick Wingardium Leviosa, sending the earthy pieces back in Pansy’s direction. A half-breath later, and Granger followed up with a Langlock jinx, but Pansy deflected in the nick of time with a shield charm.
Amused by Granger’s elementary attempt to silence her spell casting, Pansy took a page out of Robards’s book and amplified her voice across the distance.
She chuckled obnoxiously and roared. “Very cute, Granger. But you’re going to have to try a lot harder to shut me up.”
Taking the bait, Granger erupted explosively, uncreatively copying Thomas with a non-verbal Incarcerous. But Pansy wasn’t afraid of a few bindings, nor was she opposed to the idea of being tied up by Granger. Dropping her shield charm, she let the ropes wrap around her body and fasten her arms behind her back.
Deciding to take Thomas’s distraction technique to the next level, Pansy employed a non-verbal conjuration, and a thin wand-shaped twig took shape in her non-dominant hand. Making a dramatic show of her anguish, she let the twig fall to the ground.
Granger fell for her trick, thinking she had disarmed Pansy, and turned expectantly to Robards to declare her the winner. It was disappointingly easy, but Pansy didn’t wait for Granger to realize her mistake before banishing her bindings and surging forward with a freezing charm that hit its unsuspecting mark.
It was a shame Granger hadn’t been able to turn her head in Pansy’s direction before her body became completely immobilised. Pansy would’ve quite liked to see the look on her face as she realized she had been bested. Of course, the spell was temporary, so Robards wouldn’t yet call the match. Pansy didn’t want him to. She wasn’t done playing.
She crossed the field to where Granger stood frozen and circled her, taunting her.
“I’m sorry to embarrass you like that, darling. I truly didn’t think you’d fall for such child’s play. Really, I had a whole back-up plan prepared. I’ll tell you all about it later. Not now. Now, I think I’d like to give you another chance to disarm me. What do you say, Granger?” She turned to face Granger’s rigid form and burst out laughing. “Oh, right. Silly me. Well, I suppose my charm on you will be wearing off any minute - but not all my charms, I hope.”
Pansy turned from Granger, putting space and a shield charm between them again. Ten paces later, and Granger’s blasting curse slammed into her shield, throwing Pansy forward into the air. She caught herself with a slowing charm and somersaulted expertly to the ground.
“Atta girl,” Pansy smirked when she rose to face her wild-eyed opponent.
Moments trickled by as they stared at each other from across the distance, their chests rising and falling, fueled by adrenaline. Moving again in unison, they both raised their wands and red sparks erupted, colliding between them as their Expelliarmus charms fought each other for dominance.
They were fairly matched, which fascinated and vexed Pansy in equal measure. As appealing as the prospect of a date with Granger may have been, she didn’t join the Auror Office for romantic or sexual pursuits. She came to be the best.
Pansy stepped forward once, and then twice, slowly increasing the intensity of her spell. Granger didn’t back down, taking two forward steps of her own. It was too much for either of them to handle. Their arms shook and the streams of sparks bleeding from their wands wavered. Pansy dug deep, pushing against the force and driving her foot forward once more.
All at once, the pressure snapped, and Granger was catapulted backwards. She crashed to the ground with a crack and her wand flew from her hand, landing metres out of her reach.
Pansy won. She won, and Robards announced it so. The crowd of trainees roared, but it was all white noise in Pansy’s ears as her feet collided with the ground and her heart pounded in her chest, to bring her to Granger’s side. Pansy fell to her knees and leaned over her prone form.
“Hermione,” Pansy cried, shaking her shoulders. “Hermione, are you okay?”
Her eyes were closed and her body was still. Pansy panicked, and was turning to call for a healer, when she felt her wand wrench out of her hand. Dumbfounded, her head snapped back to Granger who, with eyes still shut, waved Pansy’s wand proudly in the air above her.
“I disarmed you, Pansy. I did it,” she declared, her voice hoarse. “You owe me,” she gasped. “A proper date.”
Relief flooded Pansy and she pulled Hermione to her chest, burrowing her head in her shoulder. “You did it,” she breathed, a choked laugh escaping her lips. “I will take you out, Hermione. Someplace nice."