Two hours later, after Hermione had fallen asleep on Pansy’s lap, her fingers gently massaging her scalp, we had come up with a good plan: the goal was to expose Ferret and Ass-toria - that’s how Pansy started calling her, emphasizing the second S -, and blow the whole thing out of proportions until it became the fucking scandal of the year and every person in the Wizarding World would know the story - we’d be better than Voldemort himself making Harry Potter the most famous infant in the world. The Boy Who Lived? Fuck that. Everyone would talk about Two Bastards We Loathe. Pansy and I were shaking with adrenaline, trying to figure out all the steps to avenge our friend, but we didn’t know where to start, and what could make him reveal himself and his affair.