It had started out innocently enough. A few small smiles his way and brief meetings of eyes from across the room. Green clashing with blue in a silent battle to see who would give in to the desire to look away first. It was usually her, yet her brazen smirk would never fail to rain on his short victory. It was as if she had planned on relenting the entire time, just in order to peak his interest that much more. He hated that it worked.

It wasn't something he was proud of, this dark, fast-growing fascination with the previous Slytherin Princess. In fact, it disgusted him to a certain point. Mainly because she wasn't exactly free to be looking at all, what with an expensive engagement ring glinting off of the pale skin of her delicate fingers and a possessive arm around her waist practically at all times. Blaise Zabini was not exactly his friend, but Harry definitely respected the fellow Auror. Enough to stay away from his bride-to-be at all costs, at least.

The stares continued from a distance though. It couldn't all be blamed on him. There was no ignoring the gleam in her eyes and the way she never seemed able to resist nibbling on her bottom lip in a manner that he admitted was incredibly enticing. There were times when he wouldn't be able to stop his eyes from following the movement, but there were also times where he'd keep a firm handle on his control and simply scowl in response to her. Usually this was when Blaise was paying less attention to his work and more attention to his fiancée. It was rare; yet still happened at times.

The funny thing was that he hadn't even heard a word out of her mouth since they had been at Hogwarts together. When he finally did speak to her again it had only been after their odd relationship had already blossomed. For the most part he had been trying to further himself from her, but all of a sudden, at one fateful office party, they had come face-to-face without the length of a room between them. He had flushed and stumbled over his words, much like the awkward teenage boy he thought he had left behind in the summer after his sixth year in school.

The problem was how close she had stood to him. It was one thing to want someone from a distance -knowing you'd never be close enough for a touch-, and something entirely different to be only a step away. And Harry was sure that she knew what she did to him, which only made matters worse as she gently laid a hand on his shoulder at times and looked up at him from beneath long, dark lashes that fluttered against the pale skin of her cheeks with every blink. His chest had felt constricted as she asked him simple questions about his life in general, not flirting with words but with her body. She had even had the nerve to playfully slap his stomach, lingering inappropriately across his abs, while talking about Blaise. Harry realized everything was plotting against him the moment he grasped Pansy's wrist warningly, causing a visible shiver to run through her body as he watched on. When her eyes darkened, his blood rushed south.

He'd excused himself rather abruptly after that.

It hadn't gotten better over the course of the months that followed. They were always bumping into each other, both pretending that it was completely accidental. He would be a liar if he said that he didn't figure out where she was at times and then make a bee-line in her direction. She did the same thing, after all, so he wasn't too ashamed of it. At least, that's what he told himself.

He went out of his way to make the conversations between them seem natural, even going up to her when she was with Blaise just to prove to himself, and her, that he could remain calm in her presence if he put enough effort into it. The problem was when they were alone and she was more hands-on with him, goading him until he returned the favor in small caresses that went unnoticed to all of those around them. He didn't understand why she had chosen him of all the other blokes to show an interest in. Harry knew for a fact that most girls would kill to be in Pansy's position when it came to her engagement to Blaise.

It made his blood boil just thinking about it.

Yet, the odd relationship continued between them. Each time he met her eyes he felt a jolt in his body, stirring up his emotions until he was at the farthest reach of his restraint. He yearned for her and the need that reflected back at him in those icy blue eyes of hers told him she felt the same. Pansy hadn't been the most beautiful of girls back in Hogwarts, but somehow over the years she had separated herself from that past in the most delicious of ways. The power of her seduction kept him up, tossing and turning, for hours on end at night. Harry hated the way he just fell right into the trap she'd set from day one. No matter how much he denied it, the fact of the matter was that he wanted her. Badly. Which led up to this night. Months of tension mounting to the surface until he couldn't bring himself to care about anything else.

"How have you been?" Pansy asked, her smile pleasant as she made her way up to him at the department's Spring gathering.

Harry returned her smile as she reached out to run a hand up his arm by way of greeting. She looked mind-bogglingly sexy in a dark blue satin dress that hugged her figure and left little to his imagination. The dress made the dark lust in the depth of her eyes stand out even more. Though, he was sure it was only because he was looking specifically for it that he noticed at all.

"Fine," he replied, leaning forward and running his gaze smoothly up her body. "And you?"

"Fine."

"Well, good. I wouldn't want an engaged woman having an unhappy run just before her wedding," Harry said, grinning audaciously as he stared directly at her. He wasn't quite in the mood to dance around the issue this time. He hadn't had the easiest of days. Ever since he had been named head of the department he'd been up to his nose in paperwork. He wasn't really cut out for the office aspect of the job, instead being much more interested in getting out in the field. However, he knew by accepting the position he would have dibs on any case he wanted in the future, once he got his bearings. And that was enough for him.

"Really? Well, what sort of run would you want this engaged woman having before her wedding, Harry?" Pansy whispered, looking down before back up at him as she nibbled on her lower lip.

"Pansy . . . "

She seemed to look around them before throwing up another friendly smile as if the pause in the act hadn't happened at all. The role of a loving wife would be easy for her to slip into once the time came. She was a rather talented actress, always sociable and open with those around her as if she didn't have a trouble in the world. No one was that perfect, but she knew how to pretend to be damn close.

"It was so nice to see you again," she exclaimed, kissing his cheek chastely and then pulling away.

"Pleasure was mine," Harry murmured, tilting his head to the side and furrowing his eyebrows as she took a step backwards so abruptly. It wasn't like them to have a short, easy conversation. More often than not it was only when someone eagerly aimed to capture one of their attentions elsewhere that they finely parted. Also, by the time that separation was unavoidable, Harry was usually flushed with desire from all of Pansy's flirting and sexual undertones. She toyed with him, and he didn't understand why he let her.

"You wouldn't happen to have a handkerchief on you, would you?" she asked suddenly, reaching a hand up to daintily touch her nose.

"'Course," he said, already stuffing a hand into the inner pocket of his blazer. He froze when he felt paper crinkle beneath the tips of his fingers.

"Actually, never mind. You probably have to go to the bathroom anyway, right?" Pansy smiled, licking her lips like a wolf eyeing its prey, before sauntering through the surrounding crowd and out of sight.

Dropping his hand back to his side after a long moment of nervous hesitation, Harry set off toward the nearest bathroom while trying to keep his breathing even. It was amazing how worked up he got just thinking about her. If she weren't so opposite of Bill Weasley's wife, Fleur, Harry would be convinced that she had some Veela blood in her veins. It was like everything except her disappeared from his thoughts when she was near.

His mind seemed to drift into a fog as he entered the small bathroom, bracing himself against the edge of the sink and looking up into the mirror at himself. Sighing, Harry quickly ran a hand over his forehead. His hand accidentally knocked his glasses off of his face and into the sink as he trembled in pent up need. Flashes of her teeth nibbling at her bottom lip messed with his concentration more. He absently righted them again before reaching into his pocket once more and snatching out the piece of paper that was calling to him. As he smoothed out all of the creases, there were two knocks on the door. With a scowl, he looked up in the direction of the noise and was just about to shout out when the writing on the paper caught his eyes.

Double knock. Open up.

His mouth went dry.

Too many emotions to describe swept through his body as he looked up from the elegant handwriting and back towards the door. It seemed too good to be true for this to be happening after all of the temptation and desperation that had been growing in him from the moment he had met her eyes for the first time since their school days. He was tired of fighting it, of being teased by her for whatever her reasons for it were. The fact that she was engaged was just a minor detail that could easily be overlooked, especially if he let his mind wandered to her in very imaginative ways.

Licking his lips, Harry leaned over from where he was standing and gently twisted the doorknob. He cracked it open enough for Pansy to get the hint, but not so much as to alert others to the fact that she was about to enter an already occupied room. Pressing himself back against the sink once more he watched as she slid inside and shut out the noise of all the other party-goers behind her. Her eyes were bright, with something akin to excitement shining in them and making Harry take in a deep breath. It felt like the air between them was crackling with electricity. How could two people who barely knew each other have so much passion between them? It didn't make sense; yet, they both appeared to be passed the point of caring.

"Hey," Pansy whispered, her lips quirking up in one corner into a small smirk.

"Hey," Harry responded.

He felt a shiver run through his body as she took a step over to him, closing the already small distance between their bodies as she stopped a mere centimeter away. The confidence that oozed out of her body just made her that much more attractive to him. He hated that she seemed to have so much control while he shifted from foot to foot in his frustration at having to wait. But, he also loved it. Ever since the war had ended, he had done everything in his power to hold sway over his destiny for the first time in his life. After years of that, however, it felt outlandishly welcoming to be taken over by something out of his power once again.

"I've been waiting much too long for this," she said, drawing his eyes away from hers and instead to her delectable mouth.

"At least I'm not the only one," Harry chuckled, his voice deep and rugged as she reached out a hand and gently caressed his jaw with a single finger. The small, simple contact was almost enough to make him come undone right then.

"I've wanted you since the very first time I saw you again after all of those years," she said, her small frame radiating sparks as she lifted herself up onto the balls of her feet and ran her cheek over his. Her smooth flesh eliciting a soft moan from Harry as it met with the roughness of his own, him having not shaven in a few days.

Feeling bold, he lifted his hands from where they were at his sides with a firm grasp on the sink. His arms wrapped possessively around her waist, pressing all of the contours of their bodies together as his lips went to her neck in a need to just feel -to taste- her. Yet, that first contact was like a dam breaking that allowed a tidal wave of built up sexual tension to overwhelm his body.

Hands wandering, Harry pushed himself off of the sink and groaned as she began to explore what he had to offer in return. The feeling of her tiny, yet assertive touch had him drowning in a fog of nothing but her. She was all that mattered. It wasn't love, simply lust. A lust too in-your-face to ignore any longer.

It was Pansy that finally drew his lips away from the creamy expanse of her neck and to her own lips. And the kiss was anything but tender. It was more like a battle for dominance, tongues entangled and teeth working in delicious ways. Her arms were looped beneath his as her hands clutched at his upper back so enthusiastically that he could feel the pleasurable pain of nails slightly digging into his flesh. He held her to him with a strong hand at the back of her neck as his other reached down and desperately slid the smooth, body-hugging skirt of her dress up her sculpted legs.

It didn't take long. Months of disappointment in merely having to look on from afar had been foreplay enough. The teasing caresses and innuendos could only lead up to something hot, fast and more than a little mind-blowing. Especially between two individuals who gave and took in equal doses, neither backing down for a second as Harry took her against the wall of a bathroom that he would enter, for the most part, once a day each time he had to work. It was worth it, having been an experience that he didn't plan on forgetting anytime soon anyway.

They both didn't move at all afterwards, satisfaction and exhaustion mixing together into the best feeling that Harry had experienced in too long. His forehead rested on Pansy's shoulder as she held onto his shoulders and laid her cheek against the nape of his neck. Their deep breaths soon became one. Not knowing, or caring, how much time had passed, long moments passed by before Pansy finally picked up her head and gently pushed him to the side so that she could make herself presentable once more. Harry scratched the back of his head before following her example. He couldn't stop himself, though, from watching as she shimmied her hips as she slid her dress back into place, slowly running her hands over her thighs to smooth down the material.

"Do it again," he said, grinning cheekily at her as she looked at him blankly.

All she did was shake her head. His grin was immediately replaced with a slight frown as he reached over and gently took her arm in his hold. She let him do it, but didn't turn to meet his gaze. Instead opting to stare at her reflection as she fixed her hair. The confidence she had emitted before was still there, but not in the same way. Now, her expression was cocky. A look that Harry had seen on his old Slytherin rivals one too many times.

"Are we okay?" he asked her, trying to meet her gaze through the mirror.

"We're fine, Harry," she answered, her tone indifferent.

He nodded for a second in acceptance of that. Taking the opportunity to tuck in his shirt and pick up his blazer from the floor, Harry ran a hand through his hair and waited for her to finish as well. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it was definitely not what he got. The moment she seemed to deem herself presentable, Pansy spun toward the door and made to reach for the knob as if he wasn't even there at all.

"Wait a second," he demanded, reaching out to stop her from opening it. "Won't you at least tell me when I'll see you again before just bloody leaving?"

Pansy scowled. "Honestly, Harry, I don't understand you."

"What's there to understand?"

"How about why the hell you need to involve strings into this . . . fling?" she asked, her tone condescending.

"Fling?" he repeated, his eyebrows shooting up.

"I'm engaged, Harry," Pansy said slowly, as if talking to a child. "This was just sex. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just sex."

Harry stared at her for a second, his blood boiling in anger. He had been right all along to try to distance himself from her. She was just using him. The sad part was that he had expected it from the beginning, yet at some point had stopped caring. After what had just happened between them, though, he couldn't simply not care. He didn't have it in him to be that kind of guy, and he felt like a right dolt for expecting her to not be that kind of girl.

"I don't believe this," he said, swearing beneath his breath as he shook his head. "I knew it. I bloody knew that you were just toying with me. That I was just a game. I didn't care at the time because I wanted you."

"Oh, you were more than just a game, Harry," Pansy said, a smirk twisting her lips which were still red from their kissing. She tilted her head to the side and looked him up and down blatantly. "You were more like a conquest."

He couldn't think of something to say. He hated that he had been right all along. And he hated that he cared that it wasn't more than just sex. What he hated most of all, though, was the way his eyes still remained glued to her as if in a trance as she gave him one final look of pure smugness before slipping out the door of the bathroom. Leaving him glued to the spot, thinking of nothing except the months of endless desire that had led to this moment. A moment that was so short and insignificant in the grand scheme of his life; yet, a moment that would echo through his mind for years to come in a powerful, and mocking, whisper.

AN: This was written for a challenge in the HPFF forums. This is my first time attempting this pairing, so I hope you enjoyed it. Be sure to review and give me some feedback! :D Thanks for taking the time out to read it.