Pansy sighed. It seemed as if she was forever waiting on people. My new Year's Resolution, she thought, will be to make people wait on me. Bother that it's four months away. The waiter handed her her third gin and tonic of the afternoon. Maybe I get here too early, she mused, stirring the ice cubes and lime absently.

Maybe if she drank enough, all she would have to do would be to add something bitchy to the conversation and pay for lunch. I don't know if I have the energy for this today, she thought morosely.

Tracey arrived, already holding a shopping bag. "Sorry, I'm late, Pansy dear."

"Started without me, did you?" Pansy asked.

"No, I picked up some things for Daphne at Pendleton's. She'll be joining us today, and I knew you hated going in there. I tried to tell you last time that Mrs. Vogel wasn't saying you looked like a pug in that nightie, but you just had to hex her."

Pansy glared at Tracey and knocked back her drink. "Excellent. Daphne."

Tracey looked weary and wondered what she'd done wrong. "That's not alright?"

Pansy shook her head. "No, it's fine." She waved the waiter over, holding up her glass. "Another. Tracey?"

Turning to the waiter, Tracey ordered her usual, "Riesling, please," and looked to Pansy. Not exactly furrowing her brow, she'd never do that, but still clearly confused, Tracey added, "What the hell is wrong with you today, Pans?"

"I chipped a nail, I got a run in my stocking, and there doesn't seem to be enough Gin in the world to make me happy today. How are you, darling?"

"You poor dear. Chipped a nail you said? Forgetting you're a witch then? Your stocking must have been easily fixable. There is obviously more to it than that, and what is with the animosity toward Daphs. Did she do something that I don't know about? You know how I hate being left in the dark about these things. I admit that she's a bit crass, but she's one of our oldest-" Rolling her eyes, she didn't continue. This was a side not many of the people she cared about got to see, her annoyed and snarky side. Instead she showed this to the irritating vendors she worked with, never her friends. Her friends usually saw the over protective and motherly side. There was just something so childish in Pansy's tone that made her barmy. Was she always like this? Tracey wondered. Sighing, she answered Pansy's question. "I've been good, actually. Perhaps this will cheer you up. Remember little River Montgomery?" At Pansy's nod she continued, "She's finally home after her world travels, and I may be snagging her out from under Snape to come work for me. Doesn't that sound fun?"

Pansy's eyes widened. "That is just a barrage of information, Trace. Were any of those questions rhetorical?" She pondered for a moment. "Fun. Working with River? Or stealing River from Snape? I know which one sounds like fun to me."

Tracey rolled her eyes again but this time she smiled at her friend. This sounded more like her. "Both, of course. But I was primarily talking about spending other people's money on pretty things and wearing ball gowns all the time. You know I never take a date to all of these things I have to go to. Unless you count Blaise, who I don't. Not since that horrid mistaken identity thing and the Count of Vespa's 75th birthday party where I was forced to impersonate his fiance to keep that vampiress off of him." Suddenly serious, she added, "You know, you could always come with me, you know. Though you'd probably not leave with me... but that would be fine. I usually have more work after a benefit than before anyway, and I'm not leaving with anyone now, so it wouldn't be any different."

"Tracey Davis. Are you inviting me to one of your little parties? I must say, I'm touched, darling. And oddly enough, not in the way that usually makes me uncomfortable. I'd get to dress up?

"Yes."

"And there'd be a bar?"

"Yes?"

"I don't have to leave with you?"

"No."

"Do I have to be nice to people?"

"Are you ever nice to people?" Tracey grinned. "I suppose you could just be nice to the 'right' people... to everyone else you can be your charming self."

Pansy sniffed. "I'll have you know I'm very charming, when I want to be. Alright, I'll come to one of your parties, if it means that much to you." The waiter placed the menus in front of them and both took a moment to peruse before ordering.

"Should we wait for Daphs?" Tracey asked softly, not sure if Pansy's mood would sour again.

"I'll give her about thirty more seconds before I become very cross. That seems fair, doesn't it?"

"Oh, Pans," Tracey sighed. "You could be a little sympathetic. She's having a rough time of it, looking for a job and all."

Pansy shot her friend an incredulous look. "Tracey Davis, what in our long checquered past would lead you to believe that I would ever be able to give anyone any sympathy? Are you quite well?"

A small commotion near the entrance could be heard, but it wasn't enough to distract the girls from their conversation,until Daphne arrived at the table, followed by a thin line of greenish smoke and a rather harassed-looking man with a ridiculous moustache.

"Oh, honestly. I barely singed them," Daphne muttered, rolling her eyes for the benefit of her sometimes-friends. "It's not as if you went up in smoke, is it?" The man huffed quietly and shook his head. "Then, what is the problem?"

Tracey suppressed a giggle and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Miss Greengrass, I have told you time and again that we do not allow smoking in this restaurant, I -"

"Yes, yes, yes," Daphne replied, inhaling deeply of the cigarette he so despised. "And I have told you time and again that I simply do not care. Now, be a dear and sod off." She turned abruptly, pulled out a chair, and sat down across from Pansy and Tracey, a bright smile upon her face. "I swear, if he didn't own the nicest restaurant in Diagon Alley, I'd simply have to kill the man. And how are you two? I haven't seen you in ages."

Pansy smirked and watched the waiter slink off. "We're well, thanks ever so, Daphne. And also sympathetic, evidently," she said, glancing at Tracey.

Ignoring Pansy's snide comment, Tracey smiled. "Daphs! Why am I not surprised that you hexed him again? If you're not careful they're going to poison your food or something. Speaking of which, we were just about to order, what timing."

The frightened-looking waiter came near them carrying an additional menu for Daphne. Without a word, only a stern look, she took the menu and he backed away.

"They wouldn't dare. Mr. Gulliver had a small...altercation..." Daphne smirked slightly before continuing. "...With my parents a while back. They'll behave. Besides, I didn't hex him. He just leaned in a bit too close as I was lighting up." She opened the menu and glared at it for a few minutes. After a few tense moments, she gave up and closed it, thrusting it back at the waiter angrily. "Just bring me something. And a glass of milk." Lowering her voice and leaning towards the other girls, she muttered, "I suppose I should have actually paid attention to that prat of a French tutor, rather than practicing my hexes on him." She leaned back and shook her head, bringing her fag up for a regretful drag. "Bother."

Pansy tried to conceal her feelings while raising her eyebrow at Tracey. Ignoring her, Tracey turned to the waiter, "I'll have the Croque-monsieur with bechamel and a Cesar salad, Pans?"

Pansy glared at Tracey, positively green with envy that her friend could eat like she did and not gain a kilo. "French onion soup, hold the crouton and cheese, and a dry salad," she snapped at the waiter, who flinched and moved out of range.

Trying hard to make Daphne feel welcome, she rolled her eyes at Pansy and made sure to have the waiter bring Pansy another Gin and tonic and another glass of white wine for herself. "So, I've been thinking all week about a plausible torture scenario for 'Little Miss Mudblood' Hannah Abbott, seeing as you suggested her for the game last week, Pansy, but instead I heard a delicious bit of gossip about her and knew I'd have to share." Tracey was trying to elicit some conversation between the two women, and if down and dirty conversation was the way to do it, she knew she was up to the task. "I was getting my pedicure when I heard that Abbott ran out on her wedding last weekend. You know, she was marrying Wayne Hopkins..."

Daphne's eyebrows went up slightly and she gave Tracey her full attention. "Really? Huh. I thought they were supposed to be loyal. Must be that dirty blood mixing -" She stopped, thoughtful, then grinned. "You think she had someone on the side?" The smile disappeared suddenly and she frowned. "Nah. She's always been such a prude." Suddenly, her eyes lit up. "Or maybe he had someone on the side! He always seemed a bit dodgy to me. Bit of a nance and all that. Hannah probably found out and had to call it off. I wouldn't be surprised if the bloke did turn out to be a Hufflepoof..."

"He was one, Daphne" Pansy said sharply, "There is no need to be surprised."

Tracey nodded, "Yes, Wayne Hopkins is probably the only Puff I've ever heard Pans call a dish. It didn't hurt that he has money, though he's only a Half-blood so most of his money is probably from 'them' anyway, but it makes me think it was probably not her unfortunate birth that caused it. I'd wager he was shagging someone else. There have been rumours that he'd been seen in several rather kinky shops in Muggle London." Turning to Pansy, "And then there was that time when you said you'd seen him in the Liverpool Magic District at Madame Carlotta's. I knew there had to be more to that than shopping for his sister."

"What were you doing in the Liverpool Magic District, Pansy?" Daphne asked with faux innocence.

Pansy sucked on a piece of ice before crushing it with her teeth violently. "Just furthering my own corruption, Daphne. It's so hard maintain my level of depravity in Diagon Alley," she replied dryly.

Interrupting them, the waiter brought their dishes and Pansy gave Daphne a derisive snort. She'd asked for 'anything' and she'd gotten a plate of unrecognizable, multicolored blobs. Daphne stared at the plate, her face unreadable. Her mouth twisted to one side and she arched an eyebrow at Pansy. Straightening in her chair, she stabbed her cigarette out on a small side plate, stabbed an unusually purple blob with her fork, and gingerly began to eat. She got through most of the purple blob, and a bit of some greenish blobs with red bits in them, before she finally gave up. She dropped her fork, picked up the plate, and simply held it away until a skittish waiter came to claim it. "Speaking of dodgy," she muttered.

She eyed the plates in front of Pansy and Tracey and, noticing the dark glare Pansy shot her way, reached over to grab half of Tracey's meal. It appeared to be a sandwich of some sort, although it oozed a bit precariously. She snapped the fingers of her other hand at a passing waiter and dropped the soggy sandwich on the plate that appeared before her. Shrugging slightly, she picked up her salad fork and dug in, ignoring the slightly disturbed looks that came from the other patrons. "Fanks, Chasey," she mumbled, her left hand in front of her full mouth.

Nodding, Tracey smiled and then started to eat her salad. She hadn't been in both her fellow dorm-mate's company in ages, and she'd forgotten about the way they rubbed one another the wrong way. Pansy looked particularly irritated, so Tracey decided to start the game. "So, girls... Torture. You ready?"

Daphne dabbed her mouth with her napkin and nodded, and Pansy's eyes regained some of their spark.

"Alright, Pansy, as last week's winner you have the privilege of choosing the first for the chopping block." Then aside to Daphne she added with a smirk, "She always wins, just so you know, we have no chance."

Pansy frowned. "I don't always win. There was that time, sixth year, you remember? It involved hot oil and a cauldron...Ernie MacMillan's pants..." She sighed. "Anyway. For our guest," she said, indicating Daphne, "I give Ron Weasley."

"Ugh, a Weasley. Fine. I suppose...I could whip up a good Confundus spell, maybe mix it with a nice Imperio or a smart Disillusionment potion, and I'd convince him that he's a house-elf." She grinned conspiratorially. "Then I'd give him to the Malfoys."

"Ooh," Pansy said. "Good one. I'd appreciate seeing Narcissa Malfoy's special brand of cruelty." She shrugged at Tracey's sharp intake of breath. "What?" she continued in a bored tone, "I'm a fan." Nodding at Daphne, she murmured, "Thirty-five points." She pushed her soup back slightly and paused to think. "Alright, Tracey, darling, how about the lackluster Miss Lavender Brown?

Rolling her eyes, Tracey groaned as she paid the waiter and walked in front of her two friends out of the restaurant. "That Gryffindor slag? Alright, what to do, what to do?" A smile lit up her face. "How sad it would be for her to actually marry into the Weasley family? She was always trying to be so fashionable... when we all knew she had about as much taste as my Aunt Florinda's favourite house-elf. Once I was in the fourth floor girls lavatory and overheard her whispering to one of those Patil twins, I don't know which, that she was hoping that after Hogwarts the Weasel would actually propose. What a torture to be trussed up to that, popping out children every year, never getting a manicure. Yes... that would be how I'd torture her. Not nice... but then again, when have we ever been? Points please." She looked to Pansy, eyebrows arched.

Pansy made a retching noise and glared at Tracey. "Ugh. Again with the mental images, Trace. Obliviate me, please. Forty points." She clapped slowly. "Brava, darling."

Pleased with herself, Tracey preened a little as they progressed down the street. She glanced at Daphne, and then asked Pansy, "So, what happened after our lunch last week, Pans?" She turned her attention to Daphne. "I got a very self-satisfied owl, you see."

Pansy smirked. "This is what I get for being appreciative. I send you an owl of thanks, Tracey Davis, and you mock me. I see how it is. Give me my victim, so I can be off."

"Since we were talking about little Miss PrissyPants, how about Abbott then?" Daphne suggested.

Pansy laughed derisively. "I'd kill off all the fluffy bunnies and rainbows, so that there'd be nothing to follow her when she walks about." She pulled out her wand. "See Tracey? That was barely thirty points. You win. And I maintain my thanks for the Ministry of Magic yumminess of last week. If you've got any others lurking about, I'd be happy to take them off of your hands as well." She directed her attention at the girl in the cloud of green smoke. "Daphne? As much of a pleasure as it ever was." She looked at Tracey. "Owl me." The girls were left with the sound of her Apparition.

Tracey looked at Daphne's brief look of irritation. "She's just like that, Daphs. Don't worry about it." Looking down at the watch on her cloak, Tracey grimaced. "It looks like I have to run too. I have a meeting in Hogsmeade at half one."

"Fine. Leave me all alone," Daphne muttered, feigning despair. She smiled then, shrugging. "Oh well."

Tracey looked at her friend. She really did hate to go, but that blasted owl and all it's short notice called her away for work. "We'll get together again soon, yeah? Greg's home now and I've heard that Draco came back too, despite the little ferret having not come to see me yet. I plan parties for everyone else, it only stands to reason that I could plan one for all of us. I'll owl you with fun details, okay?"

Daphne nodded, and Tracey gave her a warm smile. She turned to leave, pulling her cloak around herself lightly, when she felt a soft tug on her wrist. Pausing, she looked down and noticed the Pendleton's bag still dangling from her arm. "Oh!" She turned back quickly, lightly tossing the bag at Daphne, and smirked. "This is for you, by the way." She stifled a wicked giggle and Apparated away.

Daphne stared at the empty space before her, subconsciously registering the lightweight bag, and digested the information she'd just received. So Greg's back, is he? She allowed herself a small fit of indignation at the lack of contact, but shook it off quickly. I suppose I ought to track him down then. Say hi. She smirked, plans forming in her mind, and glanced down at the bag in her possession. Curious, she turned it sideways to read the name printed there...Pendleton's Naughty Nighties.

Oh dear.

Glancing around quickly, automatically suspicious, she verified that no one had noticed her, or her wicked little bag. She smiled darkly to herself, abruptly stuck her foot out to trip a whinging child as it ran shrieking by, and Apparated home laughing.



{Summary: Tracey, Daphne, and Pansy have lunch. Which one of them has fun?}