This was, by far, her favorite room in the entire house. Mistress Suzette (real name Geraldine Ramsnout) referred to it as the "Room of Mirrors." Pansy Parkinson preferred "Voyeur Paradise."

Her keen eyes flitted from mirror to mirror as she watched the clients of the House indulge their various sexual fantasies. Sadly, the great majority of the night's activities were rather pedestrian, like the Ministry official who was partial to prancing around naked at the end of a leash. In search of better entertainment, Pansy shifted her attention to yet another mirror. She recognized the new girl, but it was the red-haired man she'd been servicing rather halfheartedly who caught her eye.

Now this was curious indeed. There was nothing to suggest that the marriage between Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour was anything other than perfect wedded bliss. And yet here he was, his hands fisted into her colleague's long blonde hair, roughly guiding her mouth over his swollen cock. Pansy had heard that he'd make the same request on each visit and yet, as far as she could surmise, he never appeared to be satisfied with the results. He would always leave as tense and ill-tempered as he had arrived.

Pansy sighed deeply, biting down on her bottom lip as she flicked her thumb over her clit in time to the ragged thrust of his hips. His inability to recognize what he so desperately needed was really quite amusing. And poor Anne, newly introduced to this line of work, wasn't experienced enough to sense that.

Well, she didn't have any other appointments for the rest of the night. Why not have a bit of fun? A small sigh of regret escaped from her as she pulled her hands from between her thighs and licked her fingers clean. After making some small adjustments to her black corset (her favorite, as it made her cleavage look quite spectacular), she set off to rescue the young girl from her difficult client.

She simply marched right in, the sharp click of her leather boots on the hardwood floors announcing her presence. Her timing was spot-on; the man seemed about ready to burst, judging from the harsh grunts that poured out of him. "That's enough, Anne. You can go now," she said loudly. The girl pulled back and got to her feet immediately, something like relief washing over her face that Pansy almost felt sorry for her.

"Hey!" Bill stumbled forward as he tried to hold on to her, but her arm slipped from his grasp and she fled the room without a glance back. His cheeks turning red (almost the color of his hair Pansy noted gleefully) with confusion and embarrassment, he turned around to confront his unwelcome visitor. "I wasn't done with her!" he protested and took a step towards her, hands fisted at his sides and nearly vibrating with anger. However, Pansy was not so easily intimidated, at least not by men with half-hard cocks hanging out of their trousers.

"Actually you were," she drawled, raising a finely-shaped brow. Drawing closer to him, Pansy placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back down on the bed. "Why don't we get to know each other instead?" She straddled his lap, rolling her hips against him as she draped her arms around his shoulders.

"What makes you think I'd want to do that?" he countered as he tried to shake her off without much success. With her fingers woven tightly through his long hair, Pansy pulled his head back firmly and exposed the muscled column of his neck.

"Come on, you don't really want her," she murmured, her breath softly ruffling the bright red locks that curled around his ear. Pansy nibbled at his earlobe, hiding her smirk against his neck as she felt him twitch underneath her. "You want someone like me. Someone who understands you."

Pansy pressed her mouth to his before he could disagree, lightly teasing the seam of his lips with her tongue. Bill resisted at first, holding himself stiffly beneath her, but just as she'd suspected he eventually gave in. His hands tightened around her waist as his mouth parted under her tender assault, his tongue slipping between her lips to eagerly tangle with hers.

While she continued to explore his mouth, Pansy tugged at his shoulders, silently urging him to stand up. She nudged him backwards until he was leaning against a cheerful garden mural painted on the opposite wall. Stealthily reaching behind her, she pulled out her wand which had been tucked into her stocking, and quickly tapped one of the painted flowers. The mural shimmered briefly as the vines took solid form and snaked out of the wall to wrap around his wrists and ankles.

"What the fuck is going on?" Bill roared in surprise and denied lust as his limbs were pulled back and pinned tightly against the wall. His body twisted violently as he tried to free himself and while it was quite amusing to watch, it was not the sort of entertainment Pansy had in mind. She poked her wand into his chest to catch his attention.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. You'll just end up ripping your shoulder out."

Ignoring the furious glare he aimed at her, Pansy began to shred his shirt with her wand until it hung from his shoulders in tatters. Tossing it to the bed, she leaned forward and circled a flat nipple with a finger before trailing her hands over the network of scars that littered his muscled chest. Hooking her thumbs into the belt loops of his trousers, she pushed them down and freed his cock, which had regained its previous impressive state. There was a sharp intake of breath above her when she cupped his balls and lightly scratched her nails against them.

"Who are you?" Bill groaned as she wrapped her fingers around his cock, stroking him with lazy twists of her wrist. "You seem…familiar."

Pansy only smirked at him. "Does it matter?" She pushed up on her toes to lick off the tiny bead of sweat at the base of his throat and was rewarded by the sharp thrust of his hips against her hand. "You can call me anything you like." Her voice dropped down to a seductive whisper, her lips barely touching his. "You can even call me…Fleur."

She stepped back with a soft laugh, gracefully spinning away as Bill lunged towards her, the vines making a sharp snapping sound as they were pulled taut. "Let me go, you bitch!" he snarled as he yanked at his restraints. She loosened the laces on her corset as she approached the bed. It landed on the floor, followed by her black knickers. Behind her the loud racket he was making as he thrashed about began to grow faint. No doubt he had finally noticed the curves of her fine arse, she thought smugly.

She lowered herself to the bed and faced him, her stocking-clad legs closed primly in front of her. By this time he'd stopped struggling entirely. Aside from the rise and fall of his chest, he hung motionless from his bonds, wary and silent. And what a delicious sight he was. All that hard muscle and that nice, thick cock bobbing between his legs. She was sorely tempted to drop to her knees and take him into her mouth but she had other plans for both of them.

Slowly licking her lips, Pansy let her hands drift over her body, from the hard peaks of her nipples down to the flat softness of her belly. Throwing her head back, she parted her thighs and slid her fingers along the folds of her cunt. She let out a long, drawn-out moan as she dipped between her folds to circle her clit. A bit theatrical but it did have the desired effect: anger faded away from his eyes, replaced by desire. Under his hungry gaze she pleasured herself, using a light, delicate pressure to bring her to the very edge. It would be so easy to just let go but Pansy held back her release even as she slipped two fingers shallowly inside her.

Not yet, she reminded herself as she carefully watched him under her lashes. When the movement of Bill's hips had taken on a desperate quality, she reached for her wand and aimed it at the wall. She'd barely finished the spell that released him from the vines when she felt his weight on top of her. He flipped her over easily before sinking his cock all the way inside her aching cunt. A few ragged thrusts later and he was coming, his roar just barely audible over her own loud cries.

Bill rolled off her before she could even catch her breath. Feeling deliciously weak-limbed, Pansy propped herself up on her elbows and watched him yank his trousers up and search for the remains of his shirt. He threw it away in disgust and grabbed his coat instead.

"So, shall we try something different the next time?" she called out to him as he reached for the doorknob, making no effort to hide the amusement in her voice.

"There won't be a next time," Bill tossed over his shoulder as he slammed the door behind him.

Pansy's mocking laughter filled the room. The poor man was delusional. Of course he would be back. Flopping backwards on the bed, she made a mental note to have a new corset made by the next full moon. But this time in white leather. It would look absolutely smashing with blonde hair.