Author's Note: We devotees of bluecurls have been speculating about the secondary pairings in her story No Longer Playing. She herself has written a one-shot for Hermione and Marcus Flint called Playing The Part, shayalonnie has written one for Draco and Luna called Prior To Playing and I have been gifted with Ron and Pansy. Since I'm not sure how much fun I could have with Ron (I like him, but he is Ron), I've decided - with blessing from bluecurls - to do this one-shot from Pansy's POV. I've never written from a Slytherin POV before, so here goes...

Thanks, Worthfull1

P.S. I own nothing, anything recognizable belongs to the lovely Ms. Rowling and the lovely bluecurls.

Playing For Keepers

She remembered the first time she saw him.

'Red hair, freckles and a hand-me-down robe... you must be a Weasley,' Draco had said, an air of authority and condescension in his tone.

The blond boy had been right, of course, and Pansy thought that the young Weasley looked a bit of an idiot. Especially standing next to a short, skinny boy with black hair and a lightning-bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. Who would pay attention to a Weasley when there was Harry Potter - the Harry Potter - right there? Weasley seemed to know Draco already as well, but that didn't surprise Pansy - Weasleys were still Purebloods even if they didn't take it seriously and all Purebloods knew each other. Or, at least, they knew of each other.

Things didn't improve much for Weasley until their sixth year. Potter was made Quidditch Captain and Weasley somehow made the team as Keeper. Pansy heard several rumours that Granger had been responsible for that in some way, but nobody seemed to know how. She didn't like the bushy-haired Muggle-born, but she couldn't deny the girl had brains. If Granger wanted Weasley on the team, Pansy had no doubt she would make it happen. Potter tried to maintain an air of impartiality, but he was a Gryffindor, and loyalty was common disease amongst Gryffindors.

In truth, Pansy hadn't given much thought to Ron Weasley until well after their school days. To her eternal shock, Hermione Granger approached her one day during her training at St Mungo's with the revolutionary idea of opening a mental health clinic for the war victims. Pansy had seen first-hand what traumas the war had inflicted on many, many people and she'd even had the thought herself that there needed to be a much greater emphasis on the mental healing. The physical scars could be dealt with relatively easily, but the mind was a different game altogether. Nightmares, agoraphobia, and alcoholism were becoming more and more prevalent in their society and the Wizarding world simply did not recognize PTSD.

So Hermione Granger teamed up with Pansy Parkinson and Luna Lovegood (of all people) to start a clinic of their own, focusing on the mental rather than the physical. The three women each had their own office and their own strengths, and each had been able to put aside past differences and school-girl rivalries for the good of the masses. It helped that they were older now. Hermione was no longer spouting facts and figures like she'd simply memorized them, Pansy was no longer a pug-faced shrew and Luna... well, Luna hadn't really grown out of her insanity, but Hermione and Pansy had seen her succeed with some of their toughest patients, including children, and for that they respected her. The blond also seemed to have a sixth, seventh and eighth sense when it came to dealing with the difficult cases and neither Hermione nor Pansy could dispute her singular intuition.

Then, one day, Ron Weasley walked in.

He'd come by to take Hermione to lunch which, as Pansy later learned, meant try to get Hermione to help him study for Auror exams. She almost hadn't recognized him. Tall and broad-shouldered, Ron was most definitely no longer a boy. He'd lost the last bit of baby fat that was still present during the memorial service after the final battle, and while he still had red hair and freckles, the hair had turned slightly auburn and the freckles had blended in to his skin, giving him a nearly tan complexion. Ron hadn't been wearing wizard's robes, either, opting instead for Muggle jeans and a t-shirt, both of which clung to his body in all the right places.

Images of being taken up against a wall, held up by strong hands under her thighs and her arms wrapped around broad shoulders as she rode him hard and fast flashed behind her eyes as he walked in and headed for Hermione's office. Pansy was silently thanking the powers that be that she was in between appointments at the moment, or else she wouldn't have had her door open and would therefore not have seen Ron walk by when he appeared in her eyesight again, this time with Hermione.

"Pansy, you remember Ronald, don't you?" Hermione asked, not failing to notice the slight flush on her co-worker's neck. "Pansy, Ronald - Ronald, Pansy," she said, making the unnecessary introduction.

"Parkinson," Ron grunted, making sure to be just polite enough to not get scolded.

"Weasley," Pansy greeted, using her most seductive voice. She knew Ron and Hermione had broken up years before, so she wasn't afraid of stepping on anyone's toes.

Ron's eyes snapped to hers at her tone and he flushed when she cocked an eyebrow and smirked, giving him a very obvious once-over. His eyes widened with surprise and wariness as Pansy refused to break the stare.

"You'd better head to lunch, Hermione," she said, not taking her eyes off Ron. "You know Nott likes to come in early."

"We won't be too long, Pansy. Then you can go to lunch," Hermione said, looking between her friend and her co-worker. "You're looking a bit hungry."

"Well, that's to be expected. I haven't... eaten... lately." It was true. Months had passed since Pansy had been out with anyone but Hermione and Luna and it had been even longer since she'd had sex.

She's asked him out that day when he'd gotten back with Hermione and, although he was skeptical at first, within a month they were acting out Pansy's fantasies. He did take her against the wall of her flat and she did ride him into oblivion on several occasions (she happened to particularly fond of that position). But nothing was quite as uniquely satisfying as telling their respective parents about their engagement several months later. Arthur Weasley had been very nice to her and tried to be as open-minded as possible while Molly Weasley stood there with a stunned look on her face, only snapping out of it when Arthur laid his hand on her back, rubbing in soothing circles.

Her parents had been even more entertaining. The Parkinsons had been quite happy sitting on the fence during the war, and were even happier to fade into obscurity afterwards, but that didn't mean that they weren't typical Purebloods. Her mother had been horrified at the thought of her daughter getting serious about the son of notorious blood-traitors and her father turned a rather nasty shade of purple when she'd introduced Ron. The elder Parkinson couldn't complain - he'd always told her he'd wanted her to marry a Pureblood - but did it absolutely have to be this Pureblood? Yes, she'd told him. In fact it was she who'd done the asking.

"Ron," she said, looking over at her boyfriend. They had opted for a quiet night in and Pansy had made spaghetti, much to the delight of Ron.

"Hmm?" he asked around a mouthful of pasta. Pansy rolled her eyes. Hermione had tried for years to get Ron to swallow before speaking and Pansy learned very quickly that that particular habit was a lost cause.

"I want more," she said.

"Oh, sure," Ron nodded and reached for the bowl of pasta and sauce on the table, thinking she meant food.

"No, Ron," she said, placing her hand over his. He looked at her, confused.

"You want dessert?

Pansy couldn't help it, she laughed. "No, Ron. I mean from us. I want more."

Ron sighed. She was talking in riddles again. Damn Slytherins. "Baby, I love you. But I'm so much happier when you just come out and say what you need from me. You know I'm no Legilimens."

"You want me to tell you what I want?" she asked.

"Please. What do you want?"

She smiled at him. Not a smirk, not a self-satisfied grin, not the quirk of her lip she gave him when she was horny - it was a true, genuine smile and it was his favourite look on her.

"I want you to marry me and give me children."

Ron dropped the fork he'd been holding. He was staring at her, but his eyes had glazed over. She could see the wheels turning in his head as he contemplated her proposal. Marriage. That was a big step. But - was it, really? They had maintained separate residences during their relationship, but the two flats were really just for show. Ron spent nearly every night with Pansy, most of his clothes were at her place, she did both their laundry, cooked for them... marrying her would just make things official.

He nodded. "Okay," he said simply, picking up his fork. She beamed.

Shortly after that, Ron decided that the Auror Department was not for him despite having graduated with full marks and he went into business with his twin brothers, managing their Hogsmeade branch of WWW. They were married six months later and Pansy never had any doubts that she'd made the right decision. Yes, Ronald Weasley was not the most perceptive man on the planet and yes, he was far too dependent on his mother, but he was also loyal to a fault, loving and could be surprisingly sweet and tender when the urge struck him.

Like the time he'd come home and told her to get dressed up, but refused to tell her what for. Wrapping his arms around her, he apparated them into the alley behind Draco Malfoy's club. They danced and drank the next few hours away and when they got home, Pansy decided to show him how grateful she was that he'd taken her to a place owned and frequented by people he didn't like simply because they were her friends.

Sitting him down on their bed, she stepped back, reaching behind her to unzip her dress and ever so slowly let the fabric slide down her body, Ron watching her every move. Pansy knew he loved it when she treated him to a strip-tease and she loved it when she pushed him to his limits. There was power in that body and Pansy knew just how to bring it out.

Removing each scrap of clothing, but leaving her high heels on, she sauntered over, making a big show of swaying her hips and showing Ron exactly what was his. Pansy stopped right in front of him and knelt down, his blue eyes following her every move. She took off his shoes and socks, unbuttoned his jeans and removed his shirt. Ron was breathing heavily by the time her hands went back to his waist and his arms trembled a bit as he lifted himself up so she could get rid of his jeans and boxers. Once those were gone, Pansy immediately wrapped her lips around him, but Ron was too far gone.

Grabbing her upper arms, Ron pulled her up and tossed her on the bed, then climbed on top of her and thrust home, making her cry out at the invasion. Knowing that this was how she liked it when she pushed him this way, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand while reaching between them with the other. It didn't take long for Pansy to clench around him and call out to him, her back arching as she came. Ron shouted his release moments later, spilling himself deep within her welcoming body, then rolled to the side and gathered her in his arms.

"I love you, baby," Ron said, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

"I love you, too," Pansy replied, using a bit of wandless magic to cover them with their blankets.

Never would Pansy Parkinson have thought that first day of their first year that Ron Weasley would be the man she wanted, the man she needed but, then again, she'd never expected to be working in a brand new field of healing with Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood at her side, either. Life was funny sometimes, but Slytherins always found a way to come out on top.

They played for keeps and, in Pansy's case, she played for keepers.

Author's Note: Don't forget to check out the story that inspired this one-shot and the accompanying fics!

Thanks, Worthfull1