A/N: So I'm participating in a challenge this month called the 31 days of fanfiction. (I'm already a day behind, but shhhh, don't tell on me!). Today's prompt was rare pair. Not beta'd, so pardon any mistakes that I may have missed.

Warnings: Angst, Infidelity, Language.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Bad At Love

"We can't keep doing this," Hermione said, sitting up in the bed. It was the same as always. Once she came down from her orgasmic high, reality sunk in harshly. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Pansy roll her eyes. "I'm serious, Pansy."

Pansy ignored her, lighting her cigarette the Muggle way. "Granger, you and I both know that's not true."

"It is," Hermione insisted.

"It's not," Pansy retorted. "We're both miserable in our marriages, let's face it, our weekly trysts are the only thing keeping me sane right now."

At Pansy's admission, Hermione blushed. While she couldn't deny the growing attraction between them both – and not to mention the incredible sex – Hermione felt at a loss.

"Stop thinking about it," Pansy said, lightly touching her shoulder. Moving closer, she pressed a kiss to the side of Hermione's neck.

"You know I don't like it when you smoke in bed," Hermione complained, moving to change the topic.

Pansy smirked. "Maybe if you were here more often, I'd be able to get out of the habit easier."

Hermione shook her head. "I think Draco would have something to say about me being here all the time."

"He won't care," Pansy said, flicking her cigarette against the edge of her heart-shaped ashtray.

"Pansy," Hermione whispered. "I… I love you." Turning with tears in her eyes, she was surprised to see Pansy with a shocked expression on her face.

Pansy quickly stamped out her cigarette and closed the distance between them. Her lips hungrily found Hermione's, her hands roaming Hermione's still naked body.

"Do you love me?" Hermione whispered against Pansy's clavicle, so afraid of what she was feeling

Pansy pulled away, looking Hermione firmly in the eyes. "Of course I love you, you bloody idiot, now shut up and kiss me."

Hermione obliged, uncaring about the fact that Pansy tasted like a cigarette, or that she was supposed to be home to husband soon. All that mattered was the feel of Pansy's hands on her body and her lips against hers.

Everything else could be forgotten until later.