A few months ago I had the pleasure of beta'in for Jaxx and couldnt help but become fasciniated with the tiny glimpse into Harry and Pansys life her Dramione fic Wake and Wiggle provided. Very Kindly Jaxx provided me with some of her headcanons and I managed to get this piece together. It's only taken me about six weeks, though it ironically comes at a time when the sweatpants agenda is very real. May we continue to be blessed with stunning artwork always 3
Thank you to both K and Nik for their beta work 3
A good showing at school means a good set of prospects.
A good set of prospects means a respectable courting and an ambitious contract.
Kids and charity galas to follow.
Love if she's lucky, loyalty even if she is not.
A Pure-blooded wife is always loyal.
Even if it kills her.
Pansy knew the rhetoric. She'd heard it her whole life, which is why she wasn't surprised to have received the letter in her hands.
Disappointed, yes. But not surprised.
She lost track of how long she stood in the kitchen staring down at the rejection, but when Harry found her, her knuckles were white, tightly wrapped around the back of the chair. The hastily written note from her mother informing Pansy that she would not be attending her one and only—but remember Pansy he is a bastard—grandson's first birthday party had fluttered from her hands and onto the table.
Harry's hand swept across her back, and she jolted, grabbing the note in one hand and wiping the tears that had spilled down her cheeks with the back of the other.
"She's not coming." He'd stepped closer and his breath blew hot against her ear.
It wasn't a question. Pansy had always liked that about Harry—or, more accurately, had liked it since they'd reconnected. He was able to assess a situation within moments and know the right thing to say.
He'd done it to her more than once.
His hand slid around her waist, and Pansy shook her head, taking a deep breath before she turned to look at him over her shoulder.
"It's fine. I'm fine."
Harry snorted and dropped a kiss to her bare shoulder. "Okay."
Pansy rolled her eyes and turned in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck; Harry took the opportunity to lean in and slide his tongue across her pulse. Her eyes flicked to the door.
"Where's James?"
Harry pushed the loose bathrobe off her shoulders, letting the material catch at her elbows and expose her chest. Ducking down, he wrapped his mouth around one stiff nipple.
"Asleep. Fuck."
"We don't have time," Pansy said, voice a low whine, but she still slipped her hand between them and groped at Harry's hardening erection. She could feel everything through the thin grey sweatpants he'd chucked on earlier that morning.
Harry grunted, pinching Pansy's free nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
"I can get you off in less than three minutes, Parkinson—"
The Floo flared to life behind them, and Harry glanced up and over her shoulder, presumably to watch Molly Weasley and brood trample into their kitchen, shouting and cajoling as they hovered in half a dozen platters of party food, and a ridiculously indulgent for a one-year-old chocolate cake in the shape of a Snitch.
Pansy loosened her grip on Harry's cock and slid the robe back up her shoulders, tugging the waist closed.
"Better luck next time, Potter." She dropped a kiss to her fiancé's nose and wiggled out from between him and where he'd pinned her against the table—no doubt with plans to spread her out and make a meal of her.
She managed to escape, the note from her mother crumpled firmly in her fist, before the Weasleys emerged from the Floo.
"James doesn't even like cake."
Pansy snorted and turned to see Hermione staring at the golden Snitch in confusion. Even she'd been shocked when Molly Weasley had set it in the middle of the table, murmured Finite Incantatem, and the thing had expanded in width at least six inches.
She hoped everyone was ready to lug home a pound of cake in their party bags.
"He will lick the icing and that's it."
"Or squash it into the carpets." Hermione nodded over to the kids on the floor; James was staring at Teddy Lupin in fascination as his hair morphed from blue to pink to green and back again.
No doubt in an effort to impress young Victoire, Pansy thought.
"I doubt Walburga ever let Sirius and Regulus have cake on the carpets."
"I doubt she ever let them have a birthday," Hermione mumbled from beside her.
"Probably why Harry wanted to make such a big fuss." Pansy flicked her eyes in the direction of her better half.
Hermione stepped closer, glass of white wine—which Pansy had graciously pressed into her hand as soon as she and Draco had stepped through the Floo, twenty minutes late—in hand, and tilted her head as they stared across the room at their respective partners and best friends.
Both men were staring over the room and grunting at one another from the corners of their mouths.
"What on earth are they doing?" Pansy wondered aloud.
Hermione snorted, and her hand clutched at Pansy's forearm. When Pansy turned towards her friend, she found her snickering into her glass.
"What were you and Harry up to before the party?" Hermione asked.
Pansy was not a prude. She had a child for Merlin's sake. But being sexually liberated was one thing, telling her partner's best friend about how Harry had been in the middle of bringing her off with his mouth was entirely another. After the failed attempt in the kitchen, while they were supposed to be getting dressed just before the party, a Weasley—George, Pansy was sure of it—had very loudly banged on their bedroom door and put a stop to their orgasms. It was tragic, truly.
And so, instead, she sniffed and leaned across her friend and the table to grasp at a mini lasagne Molly Weasley had lovingly prepared and said, "None of your business." Pansy popped the savoury snack into her mouth and chewed, still watching both Harry and Draco squirm uncomfortably where they stood behind the couch. She hoped no one else could tell what was ailing them.
"You don't have any kids or meddling mothers-in-law stepping through your Floo without a moment's notice." Pansy jerked her head in Draco's direction; she gave him a little wave with her fingers when he caught sight of her, but his narrowed eyes only made her smirk. "So why on earth is he frustrated?"
It was Hermione's turn to sniff derisively. "I have no idea what you're referring to."
Pansy hummed and then sighed when she spotted James rubbing food into the carpet, but before she'd even moved, Hermione was passing off her wine glass.
"I'll get him." She nudged Pansy in Harry's direction. "Go have a break."
Pansy hesitated, looking between Hermione and James, who had somehow managed to tip over a glass of Ribena and was determinedly rubbing it into the mess of the food.
Hermione sighed but pointed towards their other halves anyway. "Go."
Pansy smiled at the guests she passed and squeezed between Harry and Draco, leaning into Harry's embrace when he wrapped an arm around her waist and slipped his thumb beneath her t-shirt to rub tiny circles into her skin.
Pansy shivered and bit her tongue when she peeked up to find him smirking. Bastard.
"You two are disgusting," Draco said from beside her.
Pansy poked her tongue out at him. "Don't be jealous." She wrapped her arms around Harry's waist. They stood in companionable silence amid the cacophony of noise.
Ron and Arthur Weasley were in the corner poking at the wireless and trying to make it louder. Andromeda and Narcissa were sitting with Molly Weasley, their heads bowed close, no doubt gossiping. George and Theo were entertaining the kids with handheld fireworks, the thought of which was causing Pansy's anxiety to spike; if the glare Hermione had sent the two of them meant anything, hers too.
Pansy looked over to where Hermione had pulled James onto her lap. "That will be you two soon enough." She glanced at her best friend slyly. Draco's arm was stiff as he lifted his tumbler of firewhisky, looking at her from the corner of his eye.
"No. It won't. Granger is quite proficient with her contraception spells. Plus," Draco emptied his glass and turned so his back was to the party before he leaned in to whisper, "my mother would kill me."
"Or disown you," Pansy said without thinking. It wasn't until she noticed Harry's fingers still and Dracos clasp tighten on her shoulder that she realised what she'd said.
"Pansy—"
"Are you okay—"
She shrugged out of the gap between them. "I'm fine."
"It's not okay that she's not here today," Draco said.
Pansy glared up at him, the dick. He'd always been a straight talking wanker but she was rarely on the receiving end of his logic.
"Don't—"
"No," he said, jutting his chin out in defiance. "You need to hear this. You don't deserve her scorn. You're happy. You're engaged. You have a son. Who cares if it's not what she wanted for you?"
People were watching now. Pansy could feel their eyes on her, could sense them leaning in, doing their best to catch the words Draco was saying, even though they were only meant for her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and leaned in close, whispering his next words into her hair as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"We deserve better than what they wanted for us. We have better than what they could have ever dreamed for us."
Pansy hadn't noticed she'd gone away, but Molly Weasley chose that exact moment to enter the room with James' birthday cake lit up to the moon with sparklers and enchanted candles, singing, "Happy Birthday to you."
Slipping from Draco's grasp, Pansy crossed the room quickly and plucked James from Hermione's arms, doing her best to grin and not burst into tears from Draco's words as everyone gathered around them.
"Happy Birthday to you."
Harry stepped up behind her; his hand found hers and their fingers intertwined. A flash went off. Pansy stared down at the love of her life and vowed to never let her twisted cunt of a mother—who couldn't bring herself to attend his birthday party since there would be so much riff-raff in attendance—lay her prejudiced hands on him.
"Happy Birthday to James."
He'd been mesmerised by the flashing, sparkly lights, but at the sound of his name, he turned and grinned up at Pansy. Harry's hand clenched in hers and she knew without looking that he was crying.
"Happy Birthday to you."
Applause sprung up, along with a few rounds of hip hip hooray, and then the sound of people clamouring for cake, Ginny and Daphne organising who wanted tea or something stronger. Harry dragged Pansy to the closest chair, collapsing onto it and pulling her onto his lap with James still wrapped in their embrace.
Pansy nuzzled James' head. "Happy birthday, buddy."
"You're amazing," Harry said quietly, pressing a chaste kiss to her neck. Pansy felt her cheeks heat.
Pansy would later realise Draco, whom she'd seen hold her son a grand total of four times, lifted James from her lap, and she somehow found herself in the hallway staring up at her fiancé as he maneuvered her against the wall.
Harry wiped his thumbs beneath her eyes, and she realised she'd been crying.
"Oh. Sorry." She tilted her head back and wiped them away herself. Harry laughed and pressed her against the wall.
"You don't have to apologise to me."
Pansy flicked her eyes along the hallway, shifting her feet so that Harry could slip his knee between her legs.
"Someone will see."
"No one will say anything to the Lord of the house about having his way with his Lady."
Pansy hummed and fiddled with the strings of the hoodie he'd chucked on. "I'm more of a Mistress." She flashed her left hand in front of his face where the Potter engagement ring sat—alone. "Not quite a Lady."
"Yet."
Her tongue flicked out over her lips, and she peeked up at him from beneath her lashes. "Yet."
Noise filled the hall, people moving between the rooms of the house. Pansy could hear James' laughter.
Harry tugged her down the hallway and into his office. Pansy didn't remember moving through the room, but she was suddenly perched atop Harry's desk.
"Are you okay?"
Harry sounded so earnest, so concerned for her well-being that it took Pansy a moment to realise he had unbuttoned her blouse, tugged the cups of her bra down, and was sucking on one nipple and pinching the other.
A laugh, which quickly morphed into a whimper, escaped her. She could feel Harry's grin around her nipple.
"Something wrong, love?" His hands skimmed over the curve of her arse and slipped beneath the fabric of her skirt. Pansy had a habit of charming her stockings high on her thighs because Harry had a habit of slipping himself between her legs at any opportunity.
"They're going to miss us." She was breathless now with his fingers teasing the edges of her underwear. Goosebumps erupted across her skin.
"They'll survive. God—" Harry's fingers slipped beneath the soaked gusset of her knickers and slid through her folds. "You're so wet."
Pansy loosed the tie of his bottoms with deft hands; using her heels, she slid them and his boxers down over his arse.
"Quickly," she panted. Gripping his cock in one hand, her thumb swiped over the pearly fluid gathered at the top. She leaned forward, resting her chin on his shoulder as she wanked him.
"Is this for me?" She relished the groan he released as she squeezed her fist over the head of his cock. "Is this why you were hiding behind the sofa?"
Harry pulled back, and Pansy smirked, batting her lashes when he growled. He tugged her underwear until they snapped at her hips, and she squealed when he dropped her flat on her back atop his desk.
"Look at you," he said, taking his cock in hand and sliding it through the slick folds of her cunt. "Wet, legs spread." He rocked against her clit and Pansy barely managed to lean up on her elbows to watch him. He wasn't looking at her face, too busy watching where he was stretching her over his cock. Her hips bucked up to meet him. "Merlin, sweetheart. You're desperate for it aren't you?"
He immediately set a punishing pace, his balls slapping against her arse. "Fuck."
Pansy was forced onto her back, her hands gripping the edges of his desk as he fucked her.
"Harry."
Someone had turned the music up louder, but she could still hear voices in the hallway. Teddy had a habit of barging into Harry's office without knocking, and she prayed to the old gods and the new that her fiancé had managed to flick a Colloportus at the door before he'd stripped her.
His hand dropped to where they were joined. Pansy could feel Harry's fingers sliding over the wet folds of her cunt before he pressed his middle and index finger against her clit and rubbed.
Pansy arched off the desk, but Harry had already anticipated that; his forearm held her hips down as he continued to torment her with his fingers and cock.
He was panting now, the hem of his t-shirt tucked between his teeth so it didn't get soaked.
"Fuck, look at you." He grunted and pinched one nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
With a choked cry, Pansy came. She trembled beneath him as her orgasm rushed through her, and when Harry finally dropped down on top of her, she could feel his cock twitching, filling her up.
She bit her lip and stroked her fingers through his hair. "You okay?"
Harry grunted—he always grunted when she asked him—and peered up at her with a smirk. He pressed his lips to her collarbone, and his tongue flicked over the sweat-soaked skin. She shivered.
"I'm great. Perfect. You're perfect."
Pansy snorted, and Harry lazily thrust his hips, drawing a whimper from her as he dragged his cock from her cunt.
Pansy lay there, boneless, and summoned her wand as Harry stood and tucked himself away. Before she could even flick her wrist, Harry stilled her.
"Don't."
Pansy snorted and shook her head but acquiesced and sat up.
"At least give me my knickers. I'm not joining our son's birthday party sans underwear."
She held her hand out and laughed when Harry sighed and pulled them from his back pocket. He helped her step into them and gripped her hips as they kissed languidly.
"I love you."
She grinned up at him. "I love you too, Potter."
"And I'm sorry about your mother"—Pansy's smile faltered—"but it's her loss. James is amazing. And you're amazing. She's the one missing—"
Pansy pressed her lips to his once more; anything to shut him up.
"It's fine."
She pulled him towards the door, relieved when she opened it to hear the Colloportus hiss away.
Ginny emerged from the darkness of the hall, two cups in hand and one more floating between. When she caught sight of them, she lifted her eyebrows into a wiggle and blew them a kiss. Pansy rolled her eyes, and Harry laughed, guiding Pansy towards the bathroom at the end of the hallway.
The handle rattled when she tried it, but the door didn't open.
"Occupied," Harry said, pulling her back so that neither of them got smacked in the face when it opened. "Come here."
Pansy let him kiss her once more, stroking his tongue with hers and smirking against his lips when he twisted away from her fingers playing at his nipples.
The door pushed open behind them, and they turned to see Hermione and Draco stumbling out of the bathroom—Draco adjusting himself in the grey sweatpants that matched Harry's and every single other Auror within the DMLE—and Hermione doing the buttons of her blouse up.
Pansy snorted and smirked at them both while Harry fumed beside her.
He pointed between them and the now-empty bathroom, his mouth gaping like a fish as he struggled to accuse them of sullying it. Pansy pushed Harry past their friends just as Hermione nudged Draco towards the party once more, and Pansy heard him begin to immediately mutter Scourgify.
She grinned at Hermione when they were alone in the hallway. "Feeling better?"
"Don't even." Hermione peeked up at Pansy from beneath her lashes. "You're lucky you didn't have to come and drag us through the Floo to get here in the first place."
Pansy barked a laugh. "As if I'd let James' godparents miss his birthday."
Hermione laughed and suddenly took Pansy's hand in her own. "I'm sorry."
Panty rolled her eyes but let herself be pulled into a hug. "Not you too. I'm fine."
"I know." Hermione pulled back. "But I know how much a parent's rejection stings." Pansy stared down at their joined hands and squeezed. "You don't have to be fine."
"Merlin, all you Gryffindors are the same."
When they stepped apart, Pansy looked back up to find Hermione smirking; she scowled. "And Draco. You've been rubbing off on him. He gave me some sentimental namby pamby earlier, too."
Hermione grin only widened as she turned on her heel and made to follow Draco back into the living room, and although she had moved away, Pansy still heard Hermione say, "That's not the only thing I've been rubbing off on him."
The smile on Pansy's face was so wide she had to bite her lip when she joined Harry in the bathroom. He was sat on the edge of the bath, legs spread and patting his knee.
She kicked the door shut, and threw up a Colloportus—and a Muffliato, just for good measure.
No one outside heard her scream of delight when Harry dragged her into his arms again.
