Situation came up. Staying late at the office. Promise to make it up to you.

Her blue eyes narrowed in anger. Crumpling up the message that was just delivered to her via owl (bastard couldn't even tell her in person), Pansy chucked it into the fireplace. On second thought, she raised her wand and incinerated it. Unfortunately, the action was not as satisfying as she had hoped.

Frowning, she turned to the table, where an exquisitely prepared dinner was waiting. Well, she wasn't going to waste all the hard work she'd put in ordering about the house-elves her mother had loaned her. Pansy sat down and leisurely enjoyed her meal. When she was finished, she floated the leftovers over to the bin and dumped them.

As she sipped her glass of champagne, Pansy contemplated what to do with the rest of her ruined evening. Decided that stewing in anger wasn't the best use of her time, she grabbed the champagne bottle and a bowl of chocolate-covered strawberries (so much for that surprise), and headed off to the bathroom.

Forty minutes later, the creak of the bathroom door roused her from her half-slumbering state.

"I don't care what gift you have hidden behind your back," she said flatly. "I'm still furious." Pansy opened one eye and saw that Harry was empty-handed. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying your best to be my ex-fiancé."

"Pierre's was closed by the time I left work," Harry confessed as he awkwardly shuffled in front of her. "I'll get those truffles first thing tomorrow morning." He paused, then added solemnly, "I'm really sorry, Pansy. How can I make this up to you?"

A smirk lifted the corner of her mouth as she remembered the lovely daydreams that had filled her mind while she soaked in the tub.

"You can start by taking off your clothes and getting on your knees."