A/N: This OS was written for the July rare pair competition in Wordsmiths and Betas. We've decided because we had so much fun writing it, we'd expand! Below you'll find the original one shot, and the following chapter will begin the TBS journey as a Drabble series! Leave us reviews, let us know what you think or what you'd like to see happen!
Warning: language, smut, mention of abuse, fertility issues
The Baby Shower
Pansy Parkinson stared at the cream coloured envelope in her hands. The invitation inside held beautiful script with a request to attend Hermione Malfoy's baby shower.
Over the years - since the end of the war - Pansy grew rather close to Draco's girlfriend, now wife. She knew all the little details about the shower - the colour scheme, the party favours, and just how many fucking Gryffindors would be there.
Pansy hated baby showers.
She hated uptight Gryffindors even more, and that's all Hermione had invited. What she wouldn't admit out loud was how much it hurt to be around babies, and those sodding Gryffindors would be absolutely ridiculous over this one.
She checked her appearance one last time before throwing a handful of floo powder into the fireplace and calling out Malfoy Manor. The fire engulfed her, and she stepped out of the flames into an immaculate sitting room.
"Pans!" Hermione squealed and waddled over to her. Pansy immediately pulled her glowing friend into a hug.
"Hey, Mi. How are you feeling?" She affectionately rubbed Hermione's belly. "How's the little quidditch player doing?"
"The baby has been extremely active. I'm already over this day!" Hermione chuckled.
"Hey Pansy." Draco walked into the sitting room and pulled his wife into his chest. "Listen, Hermione and I wanted to talk to you before everyone else arrived." Draco looked at Pansy with a shy grin.
"We wanted to know if you'd be this little one's godmother?" Hermione beamed at her.
"Really? You think that's a good idea?" Pansy joked, but she couldn't hold back the huge grin that spread across her face. "I'd be honored!"
She quickly pulled Hermione into another embrace, kissing her cheek. She smiled brightly at Draco, but she could already feel the tears gathering behind her eyelids.
"Thank you. I really can't wait for this baby to make his - or her - appearance. I'm going to spoil them rotten!" She grinned. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to grab a smoke before all the Gryffindorks get here." She winked at Draco before making her way towards the room's exit.
"I can't believe that you got her hooked on that filthy habit, Draco. It's absolutely disgusting!" Hermione crinkled her nose in distaste.
"More like I got him onto it!" Pansy laughed, walking out of the room.
She didn't start rushing towards the library until she was completely out of sight from Draco and Hermione. The tears were spilling down her face by the time she pushed through the huge balcony door.
She was so excited for them - she really was, but it still hurt. Every time babies were brought into the conversation it hurt. It was getting harder and harder to avoid the topic of children.
It seemed like everyone she knew was married and popping out heirs. Daphne and Theo just announced that they were pregnant, and Astoria and Neville announced that they were pregnant with baby number two just last month.
Fucking rabbits, she thought bitterly.
Pansy took a deep breath and pulled her pack of cigarettes from a pocket in her dress. As she balanced one between her lips, she realized she had set her purse down in the living room and her wand was inside. Now she had no way to light her cigarette.
Just wonderful, she groaned. Her anxiety was already eating at her, and she really didn't want to go back in until she had a chance to compose herself.
"Hey," someone spoke tentatively. "I'm supposed to let you know that the shower is going to start soon - everyone arrived a bit earlier than anticipated." The voice startled her, and she turned around to see Harry bloody Potter standing just outside of the balcony door.
Fantastic, she thought, rolling her eyes. Just who I wanted to see.
She quickly wiped at her face, hiding any evidence she'd been crying and plastered a sneer on her face, hoping it rivaled Draco's favourite facial expression.
"Are you, uh, okay?" he asked awkwardly.
"Yes. I'm fine, thank you," she spat out. She didn't want to voice any of her concerns to him.
"Upset that you're too young to be a godmother?" He laughed.
She just stared at him. Too young? She was too young to have this problem! To her horror, she started to sob.
Harry rushed forward and before she could protest, pulled her into his arms. He smelled like grass, parchment paper and leather. It was intoxicating. She felt her face warm and prayed he didn't hear her inhale.
"Oh gods. I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say anything rude," he spoke into her hair.
She pulled back and looked right into his emerald green eyes; she was shocked at the look of genuine concern there.
"No, no. It wasn't rude. I'm sorry that I'm such a mess," she mumbled quickly, pulling herself out of his grasp. "I wasn't expecting anyone to come out here, honestly."
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently. "Also, need a light?" He pointed to the cigarette still resting in her hand.
She nodded her head and put the cigarette back to her lips. He used his wand to light the end, and she took a long drag before opening the pack for him. He grabbed one, nodding in thanks, and they sat there for a moment, both enjoying the nicotine coursing through their veins.
"I can't have a baby of my own. Took too many cruciatus curses in our 7th year, and my father was an abusive prick," she spoke reluctantly. "Baby showers kill me. I fucking love babies, but being around all these happy pregnant women is draining." She inhaled her cigarette and stared back at Potter.
"I'm really sorry. I can't even imagine. That's definitely gotta be rough." He gave her a weak smile, and she was surprised to find herself smiling back at him.
"It is what it is," she sighed. "I love those two idiots in there. I'd sit through every bloody baby shower in the world for them." She laughed. "Say, how did you know that I'm going to be a godmother?"
"Oh, they told me after they asked me to be the godfather."
She grinned at him, hardly shocked. She knew that he was a great godfather - Teddy Lupin was a good indication of that.
"Right, of course. Good choice." She stood, stubbing out the remainder of her fag and turning on her heel to go back inside. The party had started, meaning they were late, and Hermione's pregnancy hormones were fierce.
Harry reached out to catch her hand before she could get the door open. "We could do something!"
"Do something?..." She replied, raising a brow at the awkward statement.
"Right. With the baby, I mean. We could do something with the baby. Like dinner!"
She stared at the wizard fumbling over his words. "Dinner… with the baby? The baby that isn't here yet."
Harry flushed, and Pansy smirked at the boy who lived - the boy who couldn't even properly ask a woman on a date was more like it.
"What I mean to say is we could have dinner. You and I."
Pansy assessed the situation quickly, unsure how to respond. This was Harry Potter, bleeding heart, Gryffindor Golden boy.
Man, she amended as she eyed his frame. He'd certainly grown into himself over the years. He was lean, lithe - his body showing off those years of playing seeker for the Quidditch team.
But… "I tried to hand you over to the Dark Lord." she sputtered, her usual poise forgotten momentarily as she stared at the man who'd clearly been dropped on his head at one time or another.
Or been Avada Kedavra'd once or twice, she thought with dark humor only a Slytherin could appreciate.
"Pansy, it's been five years. I know where you stood. Hell, I was just as scared as you were. Granted, I can't imagine sacrificing someone as pretty as you..." He winked. "I forgave you a long time ago. That year with the Carrow psychos couldn't have been easy on you. Clearly, it wasn't."
She stared at him with her jaw slack. Had this really just happened? Was she in the Twilight zone? Harry Potter forgave her. Forgave her for trying to sacrifice him, AND he complimented her at the same time. That cheeky sod.
"Thank you. That means a lot to me. That year was utter shite. I didn't honestly think I'd make it out alive." She shuddered thinking about it. "Dinner sounds nice. Please tell me you've got somewhere decent in mind?"
"Well, obviously. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't. Only the best for the Slytherin Princess."
"Ha ha," she mocked, playing along. "Let's get inside before Hermione murders one of us."
Evidently, Hermione was all too pleased to see the pair getting along, if her sheepish grin was any indication.
Pansy spent the next three hours in misery as she was forced to play ridiculous games, plaster a smile on her face while Hermione opened gifts, and pretend that she didn't notice that Harry had been eyeing her the entire time.
xxx
Pansy sighed, staring at the growing pile of dresses that had overwhelmed her bed. She had absolutely no clue what to wear. Should she go sultry? Casual? She'd never felt this insecure about a date in her life, and that was saying something for her.
Being asked on a date by Harry Potter was not something Pansy had been prepared for. If someone had told her years ago she'd be standing in her room, choosing the perfect outfit for dinner with the Golden Boy, she'd laugh in their face.
To top it off, he'd been studying her and sending shy smiles her direction all throughout the baby shower. Why would he ask her of all people? If it weren't for the Malfoy heir, they wouldn't even be speaking. Surely the savior of a Wizarding Britain had a handful of prospects falling at his feet.
Pansy groaned, flopping onto the bed and sinking into the mountain of discarded dresses. She desperately wanted to floo Mi and get her opinion on what to wear, but she wasn't ready to mention the date. What if the entire evening blew up in her face? She'd be humiliated!
"Mopsy!" she called out. With a Pop! her elf appeared in front of her.
"What is young miss needing?" the little elf asked.
"I can't settle on a dress. I have a, uh, date tonight, and I really need your opinion." Pansy gave Mopsy a shy smile, but she felt ridiculous.
"Oh! Mopsy would love to help her young miss!" The elf responded brightly and clapped her hands. "Up! Mopsy will look at your dresses."
Pansy did as she was told, crawling reluctantly from her bed and plopping down onto her vanity chair.
"Young miss has made a right mess! Mopsy will clean it up!" With a snap of her fingers, Pansy's dresses righted themselves back into her closet.
She watched Mopsy disappear into her rows of material, and she could hear the elf making tsks and hmms as she scanned the racks of clothing. Finally, a dress floated out the door with Mopsy following right behind.
"This be the perfect dress for my Missy Pansy. She will be so pretty in it!" Mopsy said with delight.
The dress in question floated gently onto Pansy's bed, and she had to admit that Mopsy had pretty good taste in clothing, despite her own choices in fashion.
The tiny elf moved back into the closet, reemerging with a pair of strappy heels and placing them on the floor next to the bed.
"Yous will wear those with it. Now get dressed! Mopsy will help you with your hair when you're ready." With that, Mopsy popped out of the room.
Pansy stood and walked over to the bed where her dress innocently waited. She ran her fingers over the intricate green lace before slipping out of her robe and sliding the soft fabric up her body.
She moved to stand in front of her vanity, studying her reflection as she smoothed the delicate evening wear over her curves.
She knew she was beautiful, naturally. She was Pansy Parkinson. She'd never had trouble in the romance department, but for years after the war she'd kept to herself, out of the spotlight, away from prying eyes.
She knew her father was reason for her distrust. His abuse had left her scarred, broken, and she had no idea how to get back what she'd lost. Her youth. Her innocence.
Her thoughts moved to her last dreadful year at Hogwarts, and memory of Amycus Carrow bombarded her mind. The image of his leering face left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Pansy let out a shaky breath, and as if on cue, Mopsy arrived back at her side. She could feel the tiny creature staring at her, but she held her chin high and tried to wipe the anguish from her face. It was no use, of course, because Mopsy always knew.
"Sit, Missy," she ordered in her usually bossy demeanor, but Pansy could read the concern in her voice. Mopsy reached for her brush, running the soft bristles through her hair before taking the dark locks and twisting them carefully at the nape of her neck. With a snap of her nimble fingers, the style was locked in place.
"My Pansy, you were always beautiful, even when you were a baby," Mopsy said to her as she ran her small hand down her face. "I has been with young Miss's family for a long time. Mopsy knows these things. Your beauty goes beyond the outside. You have beauty inside, too." She beamed at her.
Pansy couldn't hold back the tears that slipped from her eyes. Mopsy had always been there for her. Her own mother - if you could even call her that - was never around. Pansy was a prize to be given away to the highest bidder. She would make some nice Pureblood boy very happy one day.
After the war, when Pyrs had been arrested, Pansy was finally free from those archaic standards. She grabbed the few things that held any value to her and told Mopsy that they were moving out. They'd been in her townhouse ever since.
"Thank you, Mopsy. I don't know what I'd do without you." She pulled the small elf in for a hug. "I need to put my makeup on. Would you please get the door for me when my hot date gets here?" Pansy wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and Mopsy stuck her tongue out at her in return.
"Of course Mopsy will! Don't turn your eyes into a raccoon. Young miss is a proper young lady." With that, Mopsy popped out of the room.
Pansy chuckled, smiling to herself as she began her beauty routine.
xxx
Thirty minutes of fussing later, Pansy was satisfied with her appearance. She knew it would be quicker to cast a glamour charm or two, but one thing she'd learned from being friends with a muggle born was that applying makeup by hand was fun.
She perched on the edge of bed, slipping into her heels and casting a cushioning charm on both for extra comfort. She pulled a small black clutch from her closet, tucking her lip gloss inside and slipping her wand into a hidden holster on her thigh before making her way towards the kitchen.
She pulled a wine glass out of the cupboard and began pouring herself a glass of Red when Mopsy appeared with a Pop! Startled, she nearly splashed the glass of liquid down her dress. She growled at Mopsy, who was trying to pry the glass from her fingertips.
"Mister Potter is here, young Miss. Yous been keeping secrets from Mopsy!" the elf accused, crossing her arms over her tiny frame and glaring at Pansy, who was chugging the wine as quickly as she could.
She shrugged innocently at her elf and tried to scoot out of the kitchen before she could say anything more, but Mopsy was hot on her heels, swatting her behind like she did when Pansy acted out as a little girl.
This is what found Harry Potter staring incredulously at the scene ahead of him, biting his knuckles in an attempt to stifle his laughter. Pansy squealed, stomping her foot and demanding the tiny elf in a large, purple tutu leave her be.
She flushed furiously, embarrassed that he'd seen their unruly behavior. She tugged on her dress, smooth the material and attempting to discreetly rub her sore arse in the process. She shot Mopsy another glare, though the elf looked all too pleased with her doings.
Harry cleared his throat, and she reluctantly looked up to meet his eyes. His dazzling smile almost made the situation seem - wait! She stopped her thoughts, backtracking quickly. Since when do I find Harry Potter dazzling?
She shook her head, clearing her mind and moving forward to greet her date. He did clean up well, she noted.
"Good evening, Potter." She smiled warmly at him, some of earlier nerves finally ebbing away.
"Harry," he murmured, moving forward to kiss her hand. "We're not in school anymore, Pansy."
She watched his lips hover over her skin, her mind swirling as she wondered where he learned to be so suave. "Harry," she nodded, a faint smile dancing across her lips.
"Well… shall we?" He motioned for the door, taking her gingerly by the elbow to direct her. She glanced back over her shoulder to where Mopsy stood, shooing her away merrily and mumbling what sounded like "such a good boy!".
"Do you mind if we walk?" Harry asked her as they moved down the steps of her townhouse. "You live fairly close to the restaurant."
"Yeah, that would be great." She smiled, and they began their walk towards Diagon Alley.
"So, your elf likes tutus?" Harry chuckled. "How did that fashion choice come about?"
"Oh, that's a fun story, actually! After we moved out of the Parkinson Manor, I took Mopsy shopping. Pyrs, my father, had her wear this awful tea rag - she always deserved better. Mopsy has always been there for me, you know? It was important to me that she got something nicer to wear." Pansy waved her hand, dismissing the words.
"So anyway, we went into this little shop, and the first thing that caught her eye were the little girl's tutus! She insisted on that purple one you saw her wearing. Honestly, she has several others, but I think that one is her favourite because it was her first piece of actual clothing." Pansy couldn't hold back the huge grin that spread across her cheeks as she remembered the shopping trip.
"That's fantastic! I'll be honest, I really wasn't expecting to see that when she opened the door. Hermione must be very pleased." He spoke with genuine enthusiasm, mirroring her grin.
"Don't even get me started on that woman! She'll go on and on about S.P.E.W if you give her a chance. How you put up with that nonsense back in school is admirable."
He shrugged, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets and eyeing her as he spoke. "She's easy to get on with - a great friend, as I'm sure you know by now. Those are hard to come by, and when you find one, you hang on tight - pesky quirks and all."
They'd nearly reached the edge of Diagon Alley, and she thanked Salazar because Mopsy's choice of heels weren't exactly designed for walking any distance on old cobble roads, despite the charms she'd placed.
Much to her pleasure, Harry moved in closer, offering his arm to her as they stepped onto the busy street. She accepted, slipping her hand around the smooth fabric of his cloak. She licked her lips nervously, glancing around for any sight of a photographer.
She was with Harry Potter, afterall. He may be just plain old Harry to their peers, but the reporters still followed him around like a lost puppy begging for a bone. She wouldn't be surprised to see their "date" plastered in the Prophet by Monday morning.
They'd stopped in front a brick building - an Italian restaurant frequented by many of upperclass Wizarding Britain. It had been constructed a few years after the War ended, and by the look on the Hostess's face as she greeted them, she wouldn't be all that shocked to find out Harry had offered a pretty galleon to help build it. Italian, she'd learn, was his absolute favorite.
A young waitress promptly showed them to their table, tucked away in a private corner of the restaurant. Moments later, the pair were nibbling on fresh breadsticks, and Pansy blushed in embarrassment at the thought of Harry catching her with garlic breath.
She cursed herself inwardly for even thinking he'd be in any position close enough to notice.
I wouldn't so much mind though…
She prayed the wine got to their table soon. Merlin knows she needed a glass - or three - to get through this evening.
Answering her silent plea, their waitress swept by, depositing a bottle of Elf Wine into a small bucket of ice at the center or their table. They'd placed their orders with the young witch - both chose pasta, she noted - and watched as Harry reached forward, pulling her glass from it's resting place before pouring the liquid with careful concentration.
He handed it back to her, and she smiled sweetly as his fingers brushed against hers. She sniffed the liquid, swirling it gently and taking a small sip. The wine went down smoothly, and she savoured the rich flavour and silky feel on her tongue.
"What is this?" she questioned, slightly irked that she wasn't able to place it.
Harry raised a brow, and his smirk was so Slytherin that she couldn't help but shake her head at him. "Oh, you don't know? It's called Absentia. Elf made, of course."
"Impressive," she admitted, raising her glass to him and taking another delicious gulp.
"I'm good at a lot of things," he spoke in a low murmur.
Pansy coughed, choking on her wine and tried to hide her face behind her napkin. She could feel the heat creeping up her neck as her mind wandered yet again.
"So… um, Hogwarts! How's Hogwarts, then?" she inquired awkwardly.
Hold it together, Pansy!
A broad smile broke across his face, and she knew she'd found safer waters. "Honestly, I really love it. I've been teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts for nearly four years now. Neville - he took over Herbology for Professor Sprout, you see - kept joking that no one could hold the position for DADA, and that's when I realized it's something I could see myself doing."
Pansy hung on to each word, fascinated with the way his face seemed to light up at the topic.
"I ended up sending an owl to Headmistress McGonagall, and she was thrilled with my interest. I was in the Auror Department after the war, you know - Ron and I. It seemed like what I was meant to do, but I realized how sick I was of chasing after dark wizards. I thought maybe I could teach others about it instead." He shrugged, feigning nonchalance but the happy gleam was still shining in his eyes.
"That's really wonderful, Harry. The students could use some good mentors after what we had deal with."
He smiled sympathetically. "I really think I've been able to bring back a sense of unity in the school."
She couldn't help but feel truly impressed. The war may be over and done with, but house prejudice seemed long engrained into the minds of students year after year. For Harry to break down that wall and create a united front, well… that was a real achievement .
Their plates had come and gone, and after a few more glasses of the fantastic Red, Harry questioned her on her latest doings.
"What about you then? What has Pansy Parkinson been doing to fill her time?"
Pansy bit her lip, delighted to talk about her accomplishments. If there was one thing she was proud to discuss, it was her work.
"I work for Witch Weekly. It's fun, and I truly feel in my element, but between you and me, I've got greater plans for myself." She thanked him as he poured her yet another glass.
"What I really want to do is design. Clothing, of course… that's what brought me to Witch Weekly." She sipped her drink, images of her sketchwork dancing across her mind.
"A pretty witch like yourself, I'm not surprised. Can you sew, then?" Harry inquired.
"Can I sew?" She snorted delicately, feeling the full effects of the alcohol she'd indulged in. "Of course I can! Mopsy taught me when I was young. I'm a natural, obviously."
Harry laughed along with her, and she clapped her hands together suddenly, excited as an idea suddenly struck. "I've got sketches, you know. Tons of them! I could show you… if you're interested." She smiled shyly.
"Are you asking me to go home with you?" He winked, and she realized the implication of her words.
"I, well, I mean…" she stuttered, unsure how to answer. She took a deep breath, calming her rattled nerves and smiled widely. "Yes, Harry Potter. I think I am."
He returned the gesture with a grin of his own, and after calling over the waitress to settle their bill, he rose from his seat to help her from her own.
"How about I show you my place instead?"
"I think that sounds perfect," she responded gently, a smile still lingering on her lips as she pondered what the night would bring.
They headed out of the building hand in hand, and just as they'd stepped through the door, a bright flash caught them both off guard. Pansy blinked rapidly, colors flashing before her eyes momentarily before her sight focused, and she spotted the reporter holding a large camera.
"Harry Potter!" He called out, trying to get their attention. "Who's your lovely date? Is that Miss Parkinson?"
Harry grunted, pulling her along quickly as she teetered slightly on too high heels. She glanced back over her shoulder, face flushed from the wine and excitement, and offered the photographer a tiny wave. His camera flashed again, and she imagined the shock on Hermione's face when she caught glimpse of that photograph in the paper.
As soon as they rounded a corner, away from the eyes of the paparazzi, he pulled his wand, and with destination in mind, they disappeared into the pull of darkness.
xxx
The pair materialized on the front steps of large building. "Twelve", the sign read, and she followed Harry inside the large wooden door.
He swept his arms out in flourish. "Grimmauld Place - home sweet home. Or as close to that as I can get."
Pansy looked around the main entry hall, taking in the crisp white of the walls and the various decorations. "It's lovely," she spoke warmly.
And it was. Harry, with Hermione's help, completely renovated the townhouse a few years back. Where dim walls and old artifacts once darkened the place, brightly colored paints in different shades of white and maroon graced the home with light. They'd replaced all the old furniture with modern pieces and even picked up some Muggle artwork for the walls.
The atmosphere had changed drastically since the end of war, leaving Grimmauld Place as simply Harry's home and not the Order's headquarters.
"Are you a fan of Meade?" He asked her as they moved through the sitting room.
"I am, actually. Draco introduced it to me a few years back." She smiled at him.
"Funny story, he did the same for me! I was surprised that he even knew about Muggle beer, let alone like it."
"Draco is full of surprises." She laughed.
The pointy blonde in question would probably raise his eyebrows at where Pansy was currently standing, but she was full of surprises too, as it seemed. All a great conversation for the morning, she thought, her lips tugging upwards mischievously. She followed Harry through a door at the far side of the room and into the kitchen.
"That, he is. I don't think I ever expected him and Hermione to end up together, and hopelessly in love at that! They about killed one another our 8th year. Minnie wasn't sure they'd make it." He chuckled at the memory.
"Minnie? You call McGonagall Minnie?" Pansy couldn't help the laughter that erupted from her mouth.
It's got to be the wine. Potter's never been so funny!
Harry handed her a glass of beer, smirking at her outburst and motioned for her to follow him back into the sitting room. He plopped down onto the couch and patted it, indicating he wanted her to join him. She stood frozen for a moment before carefully sinking into the cushion next to him. She was so close that her leg pressed up against his thigh, and she inhaled quietly at the warmth.
"I had a nice time tonight, Pansy. I'd like to do it again." He smiled that brilliant smile at her.
"I did, too. Who knew that I could have fun with a Gryffindor?" She wrinkled her nose in distaste, causing Harry to give her an incredulous look. She held the face for a moment before tossing him a wink, and he laughed at her teasing.
"Says the snake right before she strikes."
She looked at him, drinking in his words, and his bright green eyes pulled her in. She felt herself shift as if on her own accord and before she realized what was happening, he had leaned forward and softly pressed his mouth to her's. The sudden contact seared straight to her core, and he pulled back all too soon. She hadn't drank enough to miss the passion burning in his emerald eyes.
"I think you mistake me. You struck first." She murmured, touching her fingertips to her burning lips. Harry chuckled a deep throaty laugh, smooth as silk to her ears.
Pansy knew that she couldn't wait for him again, so she set her mug down onto a table in front of them before closing the few inches left between them and kissed him once more. She felt him prod her lips, licking her softly while silently begging to push forward into her mouth. She immediately granted him access, and the kiss consumed her. Harry brought his hand up and pulled her closer against him.
The feel of their bodies pressed so close stroked the fire simmering deep within her, so she swung her leg over his hip to straddle his lap and further the delicious contact. She placed a hand against his chest to brace herself, fingers itching to move the fabric out of way. She let her other hand wander to his hair, running it through his messy locks.
Her breath hitched as his mouth left hers, moving to her neck and sucking lightly at the hollow of her throat. Her grip on his hair tightened, and she tugged slightly when a groan left his lips. She pulled her wand from it's holster on her thigh, running it down his chest lightly and murmuring an incantation to undo the buttons. Tossing the delicate wood off to the side, she nearly purred as her fingers traced the taught muscles along his chest.
Harry Potter is definitely fit, she smiled to herself, appreciating her earlier observation.
"Are you sure?" He asked her, his fingers rubbing circles on the small of her back.
"Yes, I'm sure." She nodded, leaning forward to kiss him again.
"Good," he spoke, words muffled against her lips, "because we're not staying on this couch." He lifted her up, easily shifting her weight with his arms around her small frame. Her dress had ridden up her thighs, and he moved one hand lower to grip her arse. She buried her face into his neck, peppering kisses along his jawbone as he moved them both from the room.
Harry set her down just outside the door of the drawing room, heels clicking soundly as they touched the old wooden floorboards. He started to pull her up the tall stairway, but they'd barely made it halfway when he had her pinned against the wall, arms held over her head as their tongues battled for dominance.
They broke apart long enough to stumble through the doorway closest to the steps, and he had her tipped back onto the bed in record time. She barely had a chance to look around before he was on top of her, lips dancing again.
"This dress needs to come off," He growled against her lips. Pansy couldn't agree more, so she put her hands onto his chest to push him up and away from her. She carefully moved off the bed, turning away from him and glancing over her shoulder through hooded lids.
"Unzip me?" She asked softly.
Harry gripped her waist gently, pulling her back between his legs and slowly started unzipping the garment, revealing smooth, tan skin inch by inch. When he finally reached the end at the base of her back, she shrugged the sleeves off of her shoulders and let it pool on the ground at her feet. His hands were immediately on her, running up and down her sides, and the feeling sent tingles up her spine.
He kissed his way down her curves, settling his hands on her hips before biting her arse. The sharp contrast pulled a moan from her lips, and she could feel the familiar heat settling in her stomach.
She shivered as he hooked his fingers into the sides of her knickers and slowly pulled them down her legs. She quickly slipped her feet out of them, kicking her heels off before turning back around to push him down onto the bed. His painfully slow teasing was going to come to an end, and she planned to have some fun of her own.
"I think you're wearing too much. How about you lose the trousers?" She raised a brow, eyeing his crotch as if to challenge him.
Harry chuckled, and she watched his fingers methodically as they ever so slowly undid the button and zipper. He pulled both his pants and boxers down his legs, tossing the offending articles onto the floor with her own.
Pansy crawled onto the bed, eyes raking up his lean figure and moved to straddle him. She felt his hard length press against her core but kept her breathing steady, even as she was ready to burst. She reached back to unhook the clasp of her bra and let the scrap of lace fall away. Harry inched his calloused hands up her stomach and onto her breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh. She tilted her hips forward, repositioning herself and sank down onto him.
They both cried out at the needed contact, and Pansy braced both hands against his shoulders as she rocked her hips in earnest.
"Fuck," Harry growled out as he pushed his hips up to meet hers, falling into rhythm. She yelped in surprise as he flipped her onto her back and dissolved into a fit of whimpers when he hiked both legs onto his shoulders.
Pansy dug her nails into his skin just enough to hurt, raking across his back and leaving her mark. He was anything but gentle, hands gripping her thighs and surely bruising the creamy skin as his pounded into her warmth.
The delicious push and pull had her screaming, crying out please, right there, more, don't stop.
Harry reached his hand down and started rubbing circles around her clit. She could feel the fire building inside of her as he thrusted harder. Her legs started trembling and she knew she was close.
"Fuck… oh, fuck. Let go - I can feel that you're close. Let go, Pansy," He purred into her ear.
With those words, she uncoiled, his name tearing from her lips. Her nails dug deeper into his back, and she could feel her pulse pounding in her ears. Harry grabbed her legs, pushing them together and repositioning them to the side of his hip. He pushed in deeper, and the new angle felt amazing.
"Don'tStopPleaseDon't," She spoke incoherently, words running together as the pressure built up once again. He picked up speed and leaned down to bite into her neck.
"Right there - Fuck. Right there!" She cried.
"Come with me," she spoke breathlessly, reaching down to rub at the small bundle of nerves, pulling herself closer to the edge. The second orgasm ripped through her body, and she felt Harry shake slightly as he came.
He rolled off of her and pulled her into his side. Pansy laid her head down onto his chest and listened to his heart pounding, smiling because hers was beating just a fast to match.
"That was phenomenal," He spoke into her hair as he kissed her head.
"Didn't think I'd ever agree with a Gryffindor, but it was pretty great."
Harry chuckled, tucking her closer against him.
"Give me a bit, and I'll change your mind on that great comment."
She laughed as she settled into Harry's chest, taking comfort in the protective feel of his arms wrapped around her.
Pansy Parkinson still hated baby showers, but she was finding out that she didn't hate Gryffindors quite as much as she thought she did.
Well, at least not this one.
A million thanks to LadyParongsny for gracing us with her beta skills!