Special thanks to Sara for her help in research.

DISCLAIMER All characters, places, and other copyrightable items within this story are the sole property of J.K. Rowling and her associated parties. No monetary benefit is being gained and no infringement is intended.

If Pansy's gold, then Hermione's mud. Hermione knows that, and also realizes that Pansy knows it. Sunlight to earth, they're opposites in everything. Well, perhaps not everything, Hermione sighs, staring across the Potions classroom at her blonde classmate. There's a mind under that waterfall of sunflower hair, quick and ready and too cruel for words sometimes. And her laugh, oh her laugh. White gold and cold as ice. Hermione wants to go to her and beg to be taught how to laugh like that. Its poison washes over her skin, absinthe-green and just as addictive. It doesn't matter that Pansy's laughing at her, only that the sound sends a pleasure-pulse straight to the pit of her stomach.

Hermione can never measure up to the brightness. She is a mudblood, dirty and miserable and not bright or quick-witted. She might've been sorted into Hufflepuff, but for that vein of stubborn bravery running through her. Just brave enough to keep her head in danger. Not brave enough to approach Pansy.

Hermione stares at Pansy across the Potions classroom, watching the blonde girl share a smile with Draco, and in the depths of her heart, she knows that the color of jealousy is emerald green swirling into opalescent white.