Angel of Deception

Mature Version of Let's Start at Hello

As she pulled away from the kiss, she rested her head in the nook of his neck. The skin of her cheek gently brushed against his; a soft flow of warm breath traced its way around Hermione's body. The outline of her perfect breasts caused his breath to hitch and his heart to skip a beat. As Harry looked into her eyes, he realised that they were not the kind, loving brown eyes that normally accompanied her beautiful smile. Instead, they were alight with dancing flames, a building passion literally visible in the little light the room provided them. He would make this mean everything.

"Harry," he heard her whisper and could feel his heart begin to race. Her voice was different than usual, almost desperate. He ran his hand through her hair, then traced her jawline to her lips. There was no doubting that he'd noticed it before, yet something about her beauty astounded him. She stood more confidently, more nobly.

Though he could see fear in her eyes, it was a fear he had not seen there before. It appeared that for once in her life, her worries about her school work had escaped her. She took a step forward and kissed him like he had never been kissed before. It was not wet like Cho's nor dramatic like Ginny's. It was sweet and loving, shared between friends where no one could see. It was electrifying.

As her body began to move against his, something inside him came alive, a beast awoke and began to feast on his every emotion. He could feel the blood flow to his brain slow gradually as it was redirected for more pressing matters. His body awakened; every subtle gesture, every silent breath drew him closer to the definition of perfection placed so magnificently before him.

Harry found himself in a losing battle against his heart and his own body. Everything inside told him to show his best friend just how much he truly cared for her, yet something in the dark recesses of his consciousness slowed his motions. He could see the glittering reflection in her eyes as the moon cast its faint glow through the windows above them. He reached for his belt buckle to find her hands had beat them to it. She made short work of his clothing, practically ripping it off him as she fought to feel his nakedness against hers.

The room was nearly empty. There were a few pillows and cushions scattered about and a large armchair in the corner. It was simple – and that's precisely why it was so perfect. The Room of Requirement knew the only thing they really needed was each other. Their wands laid forgotten near the entrance, cast aside quicker than their clothing.

Hermione was acting in a way he had only imagined and assumed he would only experience so fully in his most vivid of dreams. She was overflowing with an intense passion; he could feel it in her silky skin.

He caressed her exposed belly with the tips of his fingers. Her delicate body quivered at his touch; her mind was freed from its constant string of thoughts, its needless burden of worry. As his hand wandered further, it found only smooth skin and a baby blue pair of lace knickers. She had prepared for this; she was always prepared. Harry mused that, perhaps, she had played this moment in her mind a million times, lived it in hundreds of dreams since they met – like he had. He began to strip the last of her clothing with his teeth, casting her chastity's last defence to the floor. Now she was ready.

He couldn't remember their original reasons for coming down here and suspected that she couldn't either. He soon discovered that he really didn't care. There was a beautiful girl beneath him, her bare posterior ready to be ridden against the cold stone floor. He kissed her once and again – at first tenderly, then with great passion. Her hands went to his waist, and he knew she was ready. He could see it in her eyes.

She let out a soft 'oh' as the most important part of his anatomy graced her sacred opening. Her head titled backward, her hips raised slightly in anticipation. At first he lowered himself slowly, trying to be gentle – he didn't want to hurt her. As the seconds slipped by, however, lust took over and his pace quickened. Every sound she made – every moan, every gasp took him closer and closer to climax.

She was squirming, writhing against him, forcing him deeper and deeper into her moist nether. Their rhythm was a blend of need and desperation, each of them intent on driving the other toward their undoing, neither wanting to reach orgasm before the other. It was a feat they would reach together.

The gorgeous woman beneath him whispered a few nonsensical things and mumbled a word or two, then began to scream his name as the bliss of passion overcame her. The spasms and tightness within her core caused Harry to lose control. He thrust faster and harder until his seed spilled inside her, further moistening her heavenly folds.

Whatever trick she had pulled, it had worked. He had just made love to his best friend. It was a line between them that could never be uncrossed. They had shared their feelings as intimately as mortals could. It would take them some time to redefine their relationship so that others would understand, Harry knew, but this moment shared between them changed everything.

Harry was blissfully aware of her body beneath him. He was still inside her and wanted to never have to leave. So this is how it feels to be in love, he thought to himself, kissing her deeply. When their lips parted, she groaned softly under his weight, but pulled him closer, until his head rested between her soft breasts. After a mere moment's rest, Harry lifted himself up, just slightly, to thank her with another kiss.

As his lips met hers once again, he realised it was not Hermione who lay beneath him. Her hair was darker, silkier, and straighter that Hermione's; her lips thinner and darker. The eyes were brighter, somehow more inviting. The skin was softer, smoother; the contours of her body fit more naturally with his.

He whispered her name softly, staring at her in shock as he took to his knees. "Pansy?" She fidgeted beneath him; the panic that shot through her was evident. As she fought to escape, Harry held her gently in place. Rather than anger, he felt a different emotion well within him. A few repressed memories had come to the front of his mind. He put his hand on her arm. She gasped, then swallowed thickly. He had not always harboured negative feelings for this witch.

"Don't hurt me," she pleaded, closing her eyes as she braced herself for the worst. Her nakedness made her feel all the more vulnerable. That much was more than evident. She trembled at his touch. Her sweat-slickened skin glistened in the moonlight as she tilted her head back in surrender. She held her breath, waiting for a slap or some other form of physical violence. When it didn't come, she opened her eyes to find her hands in his.

Harry found himself puzzled, yet impressed all the same. This was hardly the war-hardened Slytherin girl that he'd seen parading through the corridors all year. He realised then that he'd always been attracted to her; attraction is exclusive of allegiance. Yet it was her association with Draco that had originally dissuaded him, caused his interest in her to fall hastily downward to absolute nothingness. Her blatant interest in him, however, had changed the playing field. He found himself interested in furthering their relationship, if she were for it. He needed to find a way to show her.

"And why would I do that?" Harry asked simply, staring at her as he freed her hands. She opened her eyes, and found herself quickly getting lost in his. She remained still as his hand found itself once again at her opening. He stroked her gently, his hand playing games with her body. Her breathing became heavy. She didn't fight him, but lay perfectly still – her bosom rising and falling in time with his motions.

"Because," she whispered, stifling a moan as his fingers began to work faster. "I – I tricked you." He was hitting all the right places. Within a few short seconds, she began to cry out his name as a new wave of ecstasy washed over her. She lay still for a moment, stunned by the intensity of her orgasm and that Harry would pleasure her like this, knowing full well who she was.

"You arebeautiful," Harry said softly, gazing into her eyes; he found himself admiring her body. Her cheeks turned a vibrant crimson as she sat-up to gather her clothes. As she began to put her left arm through the sleeve of her robe, she looked at him. He held her wand in his hand, twirling it between his fingers like a freshly-caught Snitch. "I'd like to – "

"I'll just – " she began, reaching for her wand. "I'll just leave, I suppose." Her voice was shaky. She hadn't understood his message as clearly as he'd hoped.

"Polyjuice?" Harry asked, placing eleven inches of yew in her hand. She nodded and turned away. She had proven not only her daring, but her intellect. The Polyjuice Potion was not an easy potion to brew and the recipe itself was a very difficult one to acquire. Knowing all he'd known about her before, the words she spoke next could easily have triggered an apocalypse.

"I've wanted that – wanted you for so long," she said, slumping against the wall. There was a hint of regret in her voice. "I had no chance, I know. I had to – " She stood to leave. "I'm sorry, Harry." Before Harry could reply, she ran out into the corridor.

Harry slipped into his robes and darted after her. He found that his notions about her had been a bit off. She was hardly the person he had expected her to be.

"Don't be," he called after her.

"Pardon?" She turned back toward him, a confused expression on her face. Harry took her hand in his. He could feel her shaking slightly from nervousness.

"Don't be sorry," he repeated, smiling. He relaxed a little as he rubbed the back of her hand reassuringly. Although she had tricked him, although she had taken on the guise of his best friend to be intimate with him, he found that he was grateful. He was grateful that he had not genuinely crossed the line with Hermione and grateful that he found that Pansy was someone he would like to cross the line with again.

"Thanks, I guess." There was an awkward silence between the two. Several times they cast a glance at one another, only to immediately turn away. After a moment, it became something of a game between them. It was Pansy who broke the silence with a soft giggle. "I think I love you," she said bashfully. A rosy colour immediately livened her visage.

"I'd say that's a possibility," Harry chuckled, letting his hands fall to his side. "We did just shag each other senseless, you know?"

"Yeah," she nodded, then with more confidence added, "that is true." As she turned once more to leave, he called her name.

"Pansy?" Her name rolled of his tongue differently now. For once it was sweet, like freshly picked strawberries rather than bitter like pickled tripe. He wanted to say it again and again; he wanted to know more about her. She had caught his interest in the least orthodox of ways – and he was all for it.

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to say too much, but I wouldn't be opposed to... you know." Harry said softly. " A second round sometime. Let's get together sometime."

"You and me?" Though he suspected she didn't intend to, she was smiling brightly. Harry could see the reflection of the hallway torches in her eyes. "Not you and Hermione?" He was glad she referred to her as Hermione, rather than as Granger. He was quickly learning that Pansy was a far more respectable person away from Draco Malfoy. Perhaps, Harry thought, her former hostility was a defence mechanism to hide her truer feelings.

"Yes, you and me. " Harry said, stepping closer. "We're friends now. You've opened a new door for me, Pansy. I love her, true, but Hermione and I – we're just friends," he lied. He had some feelings for her that he rather did wish to explore, but her interest in Ron – and Ron's in her – made treading those waters more dangerous than worth his while. Cho had been a mistake; Ginny was safe. She had loved him, he had once thought that he loved her. Pansy, however, was full of possibilities.

"Yeah," she sighed, resting against him. "But we barely know each other."

"I'd say we've come to know each other pretty well, actually," Harry said with a grin. Pansy chuckled nervously, playing with a strand of her hair as she stared at the ground.

"So... where do we go from here?" she asked, pulling him into a hug. It was a bit awkward at first, but quickly became more natural. Harry squeezed her gently to let her know that they were now more than just friends. Pansy was beginning to learn that he spoke more with his actions that with his words.

"I could take you back to your common room," he said in a low voice, hoping that Peeves would leave them be. Both knew they tarried dangerously close to his usual patrol.

"I mean... us."

"Oh." Harry finally understood; Pansy laughed nervously. "I suppose we could start at hello."

"Okay, let's do that," she agreed, taking a large step backward. "Let's start at hello."

"Hello, then." Harry smiled and placed his hand on the small of her back, pulling her into a close embrace.

"Hi," she said, once again speaking in a voice that only he could hear. "Does 'hi' count?" She tilted her head upward to look at him. He kissed her softly on her right cheek, as though telling her there would be more. His warm breath once again sent her mind and body into a blissful oblivion. She kissed him hesitantly in return, almost doubting he would afford her the privilege.

"I'd say it's close enough," Harry said, smiling. Their minds were so tangled with the events of the evening and with one another that several minutes passed before either of them realised they were standing on the moving staircase nearest their destination. "How about we go out sometime? Do you like sweets?"

"Who doesn't?" She turned to him to wave goodbye before she slipped into the Slytherin Common Room. "And definitely. I'd like that a lot."

He watched her dark hair whip out of sight and began to make his way to his own bed. He wasn't really sure what would become of his freshly-started relationship, but he was looking forward to finding out. Sure, it'd take some time before he could trust her entirely, but he wanted this. He wanted her.

Author's Note: So, what are your thoughts? Was this worth reading? Leave a review.