Chapter 3

Harry sat at the edge of the bed bleary eyed and out of breath. He didn't want to start analyzing the last hours, not right now and yet the persistent thought of Ginny would not leave. What had he done? What had he done to Ginny? What had he done to himself? What had he done? What had they done?

Something cold and metal touched his bare back.

'Here' Pansy held out his glasses to him. He took them trying not to look at her. She was laying on her back next to him, he could feel her warmth, the smell of strawberries filled his nostrils as she rolled over to face him.

'Put them on then' she ran a finger over the back of his neck. He wanted her all over again.

'You're blond' he heard himself say as he put his glasses on. Pansy shrugged.

'Thought a change would help. I got a friend who is good at haircoloring spells' she tugged at a lock 'Different.'

He nodded.

Pansy moved passed him off the bed, walked over to the table and picked up her wand.

Gods why did she have to walk like that? Every step teasing him, inviting him to- think of Ginny, have you not hurt her enough?

She pulled a lock of hair out of her face, turned a chair around and fished her knickers from somewhere on the floor.

The room looked exactly like Harry felt, as if a storm had raged through it upturning every familiar thing, rooting out everything common until nothing was in its place anymore. He dared a glance at Pansy. She was busy dressing, pulling up a pair of jeans.

'Pansy what is this?'

Instead of answering she went to the closet and pulled out a sweater. Harry watched her.

His insides felt hollow and yet he was warm, the quiet in the room sometimes punctuated by Pansy moving about seemed to have settled within him, pushing out the guilt and the hurt and the duty. Ginny what have you done to Ginny?

'Pansy.'

She turned to him her head to the side, eyes narrowed.

'Don't like it?' she asked and he wasn't sure if she was still talking about the hair or about something else and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

'What did we do? What are we going to do?' he asked in a rush. He wanted help he wanted to talk to her, rationally to analyze to come to conclusions and makes sense of this peace inside him of how she had taken the rage and built it into something quiet, something he needed.

Pansy smirked suddenly and walked over to him her face close enough to kiss. He could feel her magic passing over his right arm and his shoulders.

'What are you doing?'

She rolled her eyes 'Stop with the questions Potter. What are you doing? What have we done?' she mocked 'I don't know about you but me, I am going to bask in power.'

Harry glanced at her 'What's that supposed to mean?' he asked feeling a shameful fear stir somewhere inside.

Pansy smiled and picked out another sweater tossing the first one on the bed next to him. 'What'd you think Which Weekly pays these days huh?' she asked casually 'I can see it now 'My night with Harry Potter.' I can use the cash as you might have noticed.'

Harry felt his insides turn to ice. The magnitude of what he had done crashed down on him. He had not only hurt Ginny, jeopardized everything they had but he had just put himself at the mercy of someone who didn't care about anything but herself. Who would love nothing more than to ruin him. Had she not tried to do so ever since his first year at Hogwarts? Always in the background always taunting, knowing exactly where and how to hit.

He stood anger filling him to the brim in an instant 'You won't hurt Ginny.' There. That was something to hold onto. Ginny was innocent and he would take the blame for what he had done to her but he would not let her be hurt. He knew how to do this. The idea that this was familiar grounded him.

'There are two people here who were doing the hurting Potter.' there was no bitterness in her voice, no anger nothing but cold facts.

He set his jaw crossing his arms in front of his chest and looked right at her. ' I am warning you if you hurt Ginny in any way if you go to Which Weekly…' He knew how he must have sounded but he was careful to make his voice hard to not allow a plea. This was a fight and he knew how to fight.

She turned to him so swiftly that she almost lost her footing and had to hold out a hand to grab the side of the bed to prevent herself from tumbling down. The hurt on her face was a living thing, turning her features into a mask. Her eyes that had been filled with light only a moment ago were now clouded and dull she overbalanced almost fell and finally sat on the bed next to him with. The mattress screeched.

'You think I meant that?' she said quietly her eyes still on him. 'You think I mean that?'

'Pansy' he didn't know what to think. Had she not just threatened him? Threatened Ginny? He wanted to ask why she had said it them but somehow couldn't find the words. A quiet voice in his head whispered for him to be careful tread lightly, be careful keep this from escalating. Keep her from escalating. He hated that voice.

She turned from him clutching her sweater to her. ' I think I'd like you to go now Potter.'

'Pansy I….come on can't you understand I got worried?' he said. He was no good at this. All the memories and emotions came roaring back inside him only now everything was confused and tumbled.

He wanted her.

'Pansy'

She didn't react.

'Pansy'

Her back trembled but other than that she didn't turn. He waited as long as his heart could take. Then he gathered his clothes wincing as he pulled on his sweater.

She didn't turn, not when he got dressed not when he commanded the bed to clean itself, never.

He tried opening his mouth again but there was nothing to say. He left.

Pansy bit her tongue so hard she could taste blood in her mouth. Behind her the door closed with a soft click. The room was still cold.

Pansy, Pansy. Come on now Pansy can't you understand…..

She forced breath into her lungs. What did she expect? She knew what she was getting into.

Somewhere in the middle of it the insane headrush had made place for something different, something slow and fulfilling and unexpected. She sat on the bed in her shoes and lay her head on her hands. She hadn't lied to Potter. Not exactly.

She told the truth, in some way. The idea of Which Weekly hadn't come to her not with the way she was feeling but it would have come in time she thought. And what a thrilling tale she had for that piece of trash magazine. Pansy Parkinson, Slytherin queen Death Eater's daughter had seduced the heroic Harry Potter. Sex, lies and magic. Pansy smirked. What a story indeed.

Then there was also the story of the truth.

The truth of how Harry Potter broke her.

She had been with exactly three men before tonight. Well two men and a boy. There had been that Beauxbatons boy in her fourth year kissing her with his eyes open. Then there had been Draco of course, the two of them playing and laughing and figuring things out as they went. And then last year before he left there was Blaise. They knew he was leaving from the start and that was liberating to a point that Pansy had not yet experienced. They were equals, they had trusted each other. She missed Blaise.

Pansy lay on her back and watched the ceiling change color as light from her window hit it at different angles.. So where did this leave her? A fun drunk, the love of her life, a trusted friend who left. And this….hurricane, firestorm. This complete madness. This every cliché. She closed her eyes and ran a hand down her body, hard wanting to reassure herself that this vessel still belonged to her. That Harry Potter's fingers and eyes and lips had not made her lose herself.

She had not lied to him she did feel powerful. Seeing him on his knees before her seeing the insane need in his eyes, his touch on her skin. Yes she felt powerful. She had commanded and the Boy Who Lived had obeyed. Had done as she demanded of him, even when her commands had turned to pleas. She knew he was taken, knew he would never see beyond her face, into her. Had she not thought about Ginnevra as well when she removed her nail marks from his arms and shoulders?

He had broken her. The fact that she used her magic on him for something as mundane as hiding her presence on his skin was prove enough. She closed her eyes and saw him on his knees on the bed leaning over her as her. His kisses were clumsy in their eagerness but she reveled in them all the same.

'I don't know what I'm doing' he had said in the middle of making her lose every sense of reality his fingers exploring her inch by rough inch.

She couldn't remember answering but she remembered her heart sinking slowly at that for some reason. She might have undone him. But Harry Potter had done worse he led his way into more than her body and had broken the carefully set wall there. She would need time to recover from this she thought. To feel like herself again, to know herself again. It was scary and she needed to lash out, needed him gone as soon as it was over. If he would have stayed she would have cuddled up to him, found the heartbeat pulsing in his neck. She would have matched her breathing to his and would have fallen asleep dreaming. She would have been lost.

Pansy turned on the bed frowning and fell asleep surrounded by his sent.