Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Chapter Three

The next couple of weeks were boring for Pansy—Hogwarts was Hogwarts, Draco was Draco, and Quidditch was becoming a royal pain in her (quite lovely) ass. It was even worse this year than ever because of the way her fellow Slytherins, especially Millicent, were teasing her about Quidditch Camp.

"Oh come on Pansy, you're not going to try out?" Millicent would say, flipping her golden hair over her shoulder and cleaning her broomstick daintily, which caught the attention of a few boys who couldn't resist watching the pretty girl stroke something—she ignored them, as usual.

"Get off it, Millicent," Pansy would say, going back to whichever textbook she was studying.

"Quidditch Camp?" Goyle asked. "Are you any good, then?"

"Ha!" Millicent chirped.

Pansy shot her a look. "How do you know I'm not, Millicent? You've never even seen me play!"

"Please, darling. Let's not go fooling ourselves."

"Hmph."

"Hey Pansy."

Pansy turned around at the sound of Draco's voice and a few younger Slytherins turning around too, ogling at the tall blonde strutting into the common room and grabbing Pansy by the arm.

"Come on," he said, pulling her up with one hand. Millicent glared at them as Pansy obeyed, standing up and pulling her arm back.

"Where?"

"You'll see."

He opened the door for her and lead her outside. As he lead her down the usual hallways, he would glance here and there, walking quickly and swiftly, shushing Pansy if she made the slightest sound. She thought he was behaving quite oddly seeing how it was only five o'clock on a Saturday afternoon. But she just rolled her eyes and walked more softly, which was hard to do since she was wearing boots.

"Here," Draco announced, stopping in front of a blank wall.

"Uh…"

Draco turned to her and raised his eyebrows. "Potter's not the only one who knows how to have a little fun."

"Well, obviously, Draco. But what on earth are you talking about?"

Draco paced back and forth in front of the wall, eyes closed, his lips moving slightly and his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Draco, what—"

"Sh! Now I have to start all over again! Just be quiet."

Pansy pursed her lips in annoyance and waited for Draco to finish whatever he was doing. In a few moments, he stopped and turned to the blank wall, and Pansy gasped as she saw that it was no longer a blank wall, but a wall with a door that Draco could easily open.

"What the hell?" Pansy said upon entering. Draco closed the door and locked it behind them.

"Potter's been using this room for weeks," Draco said. "I've been following him here."

The room was dimly lit and not very big, with only a small candle-lit table and a green bed. Pansy raised her eyebrows.

"What do you think he's using it for?"

"Well, I'm not sure yet, but I know that he's using it for something he needs."

"What?"

"I overheard him talking to that dirty whore, Granger," Draco spat. "He said that he just had to close his eyes, think about what he needed the room to be, and then a door would appear and whatever he needed would be inside the room."

"Draco, you should tell Umbridge," Pansy said, crossing her arms.

"I will, but if I do she might disable the room or something, and I want to have my own bit of fun first," he said, turning to her, his eyes twinkling. Pansy took a deep breath, not sure what Draco was up to—not until she again noticed the candle-lit dinner, and the bed…

"You're a silly boy, Draco," Pansy said, sitting in one of the chairs and crossing her arms, but she couldn't help but smile.

"It's your favorite, Pansy," Draco said, lifting the hot lid off the plate to reveal steak smothered in horserat jam and cherry pie for dessert. He cut a piece of steak for Pansy and set it on her plate, winking at her as he got some for himself. He sat down and lifted his glass to toast her. Pansy stared warily into her goblet.

"Um, this isn't firewhiskey, is it Draco?" Pansy asked. Draco shook his head.

"Just butterbeer," he said. Wow, Pansy thought. How's that for a change.

Pansy toasted Draco and took a sip, Draco staring at her the entire time.

"Did you put something in it?" she asked.

"What?"

"I don't know," Pansy said, lowering her head.

"What's the matter, Pansy?" he asked.

Pansy looked around the room—at the intimidating bed, at the congenial expressions of Draco.

"You're not acting like yourself."

Draco opened his mouth to speak, then pursed his lips.

"I can't do something nice for you?" His voice was sharp again, as usual, and even though his tone was threatening, Pansy felt more at home with it than his good manners.

"You can if you want, but you just never do," she spat, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms.

"I think I will then. Eat your fucking steak."

"Fine, I will."

She took a bite.

"It's really good, who made it?"

"I did," Draco snarled, stabbing his meat and shoving it in his mouth, his strong jaw looking rather chiseled as he chewed.

After Pansy ate her steak, she lifted her fork to try the pie, which Draco also made, but he stopped her by lifting his own fork and feeding her a piece.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"Of course I do."

Draco and Pansy sat staring at each other for a moment—it was strange, being along with Draco. He wasn't a person whom many got to be alone with. But Pansy had always had that privilege.

"Why is there a bed here, Draco?" Pansy asked. Draco shrugged.

"I just told the room that I needed a romantic place to take you," he said. Or he told the room that he needed a way to get me in the sack, Pansy thought. That would be much more like Draco. Except…

Well, many people at Hogwarts wouldn't believe this, but Pansy and Draco were virgins. Well, at least Pansy knew she was. She assumed Draco was one too because he had been dating her and only her for four years and they had never done what everyone thought they did. Draco had never really asked her, and Pansy had never thought about it. She was only fifteen, after all.

"Do you…"

"What?" Draco asked, looking up at her. His eyes were a pale gray now, and he looked a little shy, his arms folded in front of him and his mouth twitching.

"Do you want to, um…"

"Sit down?"

"We're already sitting down."

"Over…there?" Draco said, nodding toward the bed. Pansy hesitated, but Draco stood up and took her by the hand, kissing her when she stood.

"Oh, thanks," Pansy said, surprised by the kiss.

"Don't mention it."

Draco sat on the bed, pulling Pansy down beside him, and kissed her again. Pansy's heart was beating rapidly and she could feel her palms grow cold and clammy. When Draco put a hand on her leg, she backed away, trying not to look him in the eye. He leaned down, kissing her again, but when he tried to put a hand up her shirt Pansy yelped and broke away.

"Jesus Christ Pansy, calm down," Draco said. "It's not like we've never fooled around before."

"But this is different!"

"Why?" Draco asked, looking down at her quizzically.

"Because of what we're going to do!"

Draco just stared at her for a moment, then he chuckled.

"And what are we going to do, Pansy?"

Pansy bit her lip.

"I'm sorry, I guess I just didn't know what to think. I mean, there's a bed here and all, and you're being so nice to me…"

"Did you want to have sex?" Draco asked.

"What! No!"

"But that's what you were thinking, wasn't it?"

Pansy looked up into his face, and he leaned down and put his mouth against her ear, his long eyelashes brushing her cheek.

"Was it what you were thinking?" he whispered. "Do you want to?"

"Do you want to?" Pansy asked defensively.

"Why do you have to sound so mad about it?"

"Because it's a big deal!"

Draco ran a hand through Pansy's hair, studying her face.

"It's just me, Pansy," he said. "It's just me, Draco."

"I know," she sighed.

"Then why are you being so jumpy?" he asked. "Why are you acting afraid of me?"

Pansy shook her head.

"I don't know."

"That's not why I brought you here, Pansy," he said.

"You didn't think about it?"

"Well, of course I think about it, but…it wasn't my intention tonight."

"Then I don't want to know what your intentions were," Pansy snapped. Draco chuckled.

"You're such a bitch, Pansy," he said, biting her neck.

"So you think about it?"

"Yes, I do."

"So do I."

They were both silent and still, before Pansy rested a hand on Draco's shirt and, closing her eyes, let her fingers rest underneath it, the heat of his skin coursing through her.

"Do you…would you like to, Draco?" she asked, biting her lip.

"Would you?"

"I asked you first!"

He took her head in both hands and enveloped her in a warm kiss.

"Yes, I think so," he said. "And now it's your turn to answer."

Pansy kissed him back, and trailed her lips along his face.

"Yes, I think so, too."

---

"Fred!"

George nudged Fred in the ribs.

"Your girlfriend is coming," he said, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh. Fred rolled his eyes and turned to greet Katie Bell, who had claimed him as her boyfriend as soon as they had shagged. Since they were both Gryffindors, and they basically lived together, Fred had no intention of disturbing the harmony by saying no—besides, she had been too quick for him, and he had no idea she was a virgin!

She kissed him on the cheek and handed him a package.

"What's this?" he asked, sitting down at the Gryffindor table in the great hall. The package was large and hard, and he tore open the paper to look down at a giant framed picture of he and Katie that one of her friends had taken down at the lake two weeks ago. Fred tried to hide his disgust, and his photographed self rolled his eyes at the clingy blonde in the photo beside him.

"Do you like it?" Katie asked.

"Of course I do. Where should I put it?"

"Right over your bed!" Katie scoffed, frowning and grabbing the picture. "I'll go do it right now, just in case you forget!"

Katie ruffled his hair and trotted off with the picture, a few people laughing and pointing as she passed, then turning to Fred and making kissing noises. Fred buried his head in his hands and groaned.

"Well, what did you expect?" Hermione asked. Fred glared up at her and she smiled at him mischievously. That's what he got for leaving a good thing, he thought, wishing that he still had Hermione as a shagging partner. She was as surprised as anyone to hear that he was dating Katie; Fred was not one for monogamy, and he did as much as he could to do his own thing and avoid Katie—however, it was hard, and he had been unsuccessful enough for Katie to not even notice that that was what he was doing.

Fred stood up.

"Where are you going?" George asked, a laugh still playing behind his words.

"Out," Fred said.

"Out where?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You haven't even eaten," Ron said, stuffing his face with pie.

"I'm not really hungry," Fred mumbled, and without another word he turned away and walked down the Great Hall. As he passed the Slytherin table, he got a few cat calls regarding the Quidditch team, but he just put his hands in his pockets and grinned.

"Are you a Beater in bed with Katie, then?" Millicent called. Fred turned to Millicent.

"You do realize that we beat you every time we play you, right?" Fred asked. Millicent just glared at him.

What is it with Slytherins, Fred thought. All talk and no action. He felt a bump at his side and looked down.

"Sorry," Pansy mumbled. He stared down at her. She must have been sitting in front of him and stood up from her seat without realizing he was still standing there.

"It's fine," Fred managed, and backed away so Pansy could stand up.

"I'll be right back," Pansy told Draco, who nodded without giving her so much as a look and carried straight on with his conversation.

Fred noticed a roll of Pansy's eyes as she set off across the Great Hall, and Fred spent no more time having a row with the Slytherins, leaving the building and heading down toward the lake. He sat down by the water, watching the merpeople shimmering in the morning sun as they leaped into the air and splashed back into the water.

He took a small flask out of his pocket and took a swig of the sweet alcohol. He usually didn't drink in the morning, but this morning, he deserved a break.

"Did you follow me?" he heard someone say. Fred turned around, shoving the alcohol back into his pocket, and looked up at Pansy.

"Don't flatter yourself," he said.

"I don't," she spat. She had a girl's voice, but there was something hard about it, like something mean was trying to get out of her. He looked at her boots, at her smooth legs.

"Why aren't you eating?" he found himself asking.

"Why aren't you?"

"You can't ask a question with a question."

"I can if I fucking want to."

Fred smirked. "Such dirty language."

Pansy sighed and crossed her arms and Fred looked up at her. She wore a frown, her pretty face tight at the mouth. He took out his flask and handed it to Pansy.

"Care for a drink?" he asked.

She stared down at it.

"You drink?" he asked, taking a small sip.

She shrugged.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"I don't want any."

"Ah, now there's the beauty in it," Fred said. "You never want any, but you might need some. And you look like you need some."

Pansy stared down at Fred for a moment before snatching the flask out of his hand and downing it.

"That's a girl," Fred said. Pansy threw the empty flask on his lap and sat down on the ground beside him.

They sat in silence together, staring out at the water. Fred didn't want to speak, and he liked that she made no attempt to, as most girls babbled on and on and acted as if they had the entire world in their mouths. Perhaps Pansy did, but she made no sign of wanting to share it with him. The thought made him smile, and he listened to her breath, watching her chest move up and down from out of the corner of his eye. He disagreed with George—Pansy was very pretty up close, her skin clear, her eyes bright, her lips full and red with lipstick. A lot of girls tried to play this game, too. If they weren't loud and obnoxious, they were silent and coy. Except, Fred was almost convinced that Pansy wasn't playing any games, and perhaps this was because she wasn't interested in him, which came as both a relief and a disappointment.

"I have to go," Pansy said suddenly, standing up and smoothing her skirt. "Thanks for the whiskey."

"Any time," Fred said, standing up beside her. He grinned at her and she looked away.

"I hope no one saw me talking to a Gryffindor," Pansy snapped as she walked away, but Fred only laughed.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. And I also won't tell anyone that you're not a very good Slytherin."

"What?" she asked, turning around.

Fred shrugged. "You're just not very mean."

Pansy laughed wickedly. "Oh just trust me, I am."

Author's Note: Sorry, this chapter had a lot of mistakes when I first submitted it, I'm really bad at that kind of thing. So anyway, I hope you enjoy!

--Phoenix D.