"Damn it! Where did that blasted prat put it!"
She was an attractive witch. At least she dressed liked she was, at that moment she was a mess. Her brown hair had escaped her bun sometime during the search. She had discarded her heels at the door and her red blouse was unbuttoned one too many.
Pansy found the prevalent darkness and silence irritating. Her scarlet outfit blazed like, what was it? A stop light or some other Muggle nonsense. A guttural growl escaped her lips and she ran and hand through her hair. Just like he did, damn it.
She had searched through the whole bloody place except his bedroom. She should have guessed after he had nicked it right off her desk. She had to go up there but she couldn't. She couldn't wake the bastard.
She stepped softly from the room, closing the door quietly behind her. The shadowed stairway awaited and her gaze drifted up it. Go up or... What? Leave? Not bloody likely. He had ignored her petty revenge. It was pathetic really, the only purpose she served as his secretary was eye candy. She really had no choice in this game but to get it back. It was her favourite and he knew it, just like the way he knew what his lopsided smile did to her. Frustrated she barely held back from stomping up the cold wooden steps. She had a mission and was not about to fantasise about her boss while sneaking into his bedroom.
She knew which door it was, second on the left. The door that opened silently and let her slip, ghost-like, into the room. The moonlight cast an ethereal glow across the crimson carpet. In the center of the room his bed. His double bed. Next to that was his little table. It would be there, she knew it.
Quietly she stepped closer, stocking covered feet muffling her movement. She nearly cried in delight when she found just what she was looking for, reaching out to pluck it up and flee. She squashed the desire. Yet she did cry out when two strong arms embraced her waist.
"What a surprise to see you here Pans," her boss whispered, not drowsy in the least. She had just walked into his trap.
"Of course it isn't," she snapped without heat. His breath did terrible things as it ghosted against her ear. Terrible, but great. "It's my favorite bloody quill."
"The one I gave to you?" He asked. Pansy merely surrendered into him, he already knew. "Well how else was I going to get you visit me?"
She spun in his arms, hands coming up to curl through his messy black hair.
"You could have just asked Potter," she breathed. Their lips locked together for a heated kiss. Pulling back he smirked and she shivered at the intensity in those emerald green orbs.
"Oh but that isn't the Slytherin way at all is it?" Harry pulled her to the bed. "Potter."