Harry Potter was bored. Harry Potter was restless. Bored and restless, the worst combination. The castle at this time of night was always a little creepy to him, as he slowly ascended the staircase towards the third floor. Most of the pictures were sleeping or keeping to themselves, those awake sending suspicious glances his way. He shrugged off the looks. After defeating Voldemort the previous year, nothing really bothered him anymore.
The echo of his footsteps against the tile resonated around him in a slightly unnerving way. The statues and suits of armor seemed to give accusatory looks to him as he passed. You couldn't save them all they seemed to say with their lifeless stare, and he further receded into his own mind. A few gusts of chilly air blew in off the landing near him and rippled the tapestries, like a wave flowing down the walls of the hall. He pulled his cloak a little tighter around himself to protect from the crisp, December air.
The moonlight danced tantalizingly along the walls and floor, skewed slightly as it peered in through the windows of the third floor, almost like the moon was secretly spying on Harry and what he thought he had the audacity to be doing wandering the castle at this time of night. It drew him, unconsciously, towards the landing that the wicked wind kicked through. The starry expanse opened up before him as his eyes trailed from the moon down the dark, light dotted star scape, to the lake where the waters reflected the lunar light perfectly. Everything seemed so calm, a far cry from a year ago where battle tore the castle and country-side apart.
His eyes wandered the horizon for many long moments, inevitably being drawn back towards the castle and he glanced up towards the clock tower and owlry where his gaze centered on a girl leaning on the railing, chin held in her cupped hands while her elbows rested on the grizzled wood. She was just far enough away to force Harry to squint a little to make out the features, but it was unmistakably the one and only Ice Princess of House Slytherin. Pansy Parkinson.
Harry felt a weird knot in his stomach as he stared at her. Her black, perfect hair waving slightly in the wind gave off a slight sparkle as the moonlight seemed to literally bring it to life with the shine. Her rosy cheeks led to a pair of lips that looked as if in a small pout instead of their customary Slytherin sneer, and Harry had to admit it looked better on her. Almost relatable. The clothes she wore this night, while stylish he was sure (although what the hell did he know about style) seemed to fold and meld to her body and curves in all the right ways that make men foggy headed. As soon as Harry realized what he was doing and what path his mind was taking him down, he shook his head quickly and darted inside.
What the hell was that all about? He did not fancy Parkinson. At all. Right? Right. Not even a little. Mentally berating himself, he walked the halls inside once again, stuck in his own mind. Trying, in vain, to mentally extinguish whatever the flip in his stomach was when he had gazed at her outside. Movement to his left quickly shook him out of his mental distraction as a door continued to appear and widen to his left.
"What?" he said stupidly out loud.
The Room of Requirement had suddenly made an opening for him, but he had no idea why. Casting a confused glance around to see if anyone else was in the hall way that could have triggered the magic, he was met with only the statues, pillars and suits of armor he knew all too well in the area. Reaching a hesitant hand towards the door, apprehension filled him as he literally didn't know what to expect when he pulled the heavy door open.
But pull the door he did. In front of him was a massive room, decorated with odds and ends on different bookshelves that outlined the walls. A fireplace on the far side lay empty with the hearth a combination of granite and stone that seemed to pull at his subconscious as familiar, like he could almost recognize it. Sweeping the room with his eyes, they fell on the opposite side of the room where two absolutely massive windows overlooked an unfamiliar mountain range. Wherever the room was showing him outside those windows, which was NOT outside Hogwarts, he seemed to be overlooking the mountains at near peak level which gave possibly the most breathtaking scenic view he had ever seen.
Still confused about the purpose of the room, he entered and immediately felt a sense of calm wash over him. Like all his restlessness suddenly evaporated and he felt contented. Ah ha he thought to himself, maybe the room is giving me a place of peace.He smiled as he crossed the room to one of the many book shelves and half-heartedly started looking at what the room had produced for choices. He had just gotten his hand up, reaching for the spine of a book when he heard a sound behind him.
"Potter?!"
Harry whirled around with his Quidditch-honed reflexes and dove his hand to his waist, grasping the comforting wand as he ripped it out. Pansy's voice was probably the last he expected to hear right then and definitely the last he needed in his annoyingly confused head. Her face went from confused to afraid instantly and she fumbled with her back pocket for her wand as well.
"Protego!" she shouted instantly as a silvery shield seemed to ripple in front of her. Further confusion crossed Harry's face at her choice of spell, almost expecting any one of a series of hexes to fly from her across the room, not a protection spell. Very un-Slytherin like. They both stood there, motionless as both wands seemed to drill holes into the other. Finally, reluctantly, Harry relaxed his arm and dropped his guard, confident he could get his wand back ready if need be. He was, after all, the best duelist in the castle.
Pansy's eyes followed his wand like it was a dangerous snake ready to strike, but as his wand lowered, so did hers. With a sigh, Harry showed his Gryffindor honor and sheathed his wand, watching the visible evidence of Pansy's face relaxing. She stuck her wand in her back pocket. Both stood there facing each other, awkwardly glancing around the room avoiding each other's eyes for a few moments.
"What are you doing here?" they asked in unison, and she cracked a small smile letting out the tiniest of giggles. It tinkled like wind chimes in Harry's ears. He could feel his face burning and looked away quickly, striding over towards the windows.
"I just heard a door shut as I was coming down from the clock tower and then saw this giant door, a door I had never seen before and was curious." She replied in a soft voice, nothing like the snarky, cutting way she usually talked. Harry found himself gaining heat in the tips of his ears as the inflection of the voice washed over him.
A few moments of silence followed and he was surprised to notice her glide up next to him, joining him at the windows. Harry glanced over, trying to not let her notice him looking. She was much shorter than he remembered her being, just barely over his shoulder. Her raven hair seemed to bounce and cascade down her shoulders in a way that reminded him of a tranquil waterfall. Her eyes , while piercing, held a certain softness as whenever she let loose a smile, it reached all the way up and shone out her eyes. A fuzzy feeling came over him as he vaguely wondered how he had ever thought her 'pug-nosed' because looking now, her nose was one of her most acute qualities, fitting her face perfectly. Almost as if the lines of her nose drew you into all the other delicate curves of her cheeks and lips. And then, he inhaled.
WHAM
It was as if a sledgehammer had battered into his chest hard enough to break a rib. Her perfume, the aroma, the sheer intoxication of it smothered him. He felt his mouth go dry in an instant, like he could have drank the entire lake and it still wouldn't return moisture to his mouth. He was in trouble. Big trouble, and he knew it. Harry was at a loss of how or what or why he was feeling any of this, so he did the only thing he could think of. Talk
"This is the Room of Requirement," he started, slightly raspy, "It appears when someone walks these halls with a great need or desire. It is seldom the same room twice, and it always fits the requirements of the person that summons its magic."
Pansy made a small noise of contemplation in her throat. Oh Merlin Harry thought as he shut his eyes to try and block out her sounds, her smell, her presence in general. "So, Scar-head, what is it that you required? A nice room for once?" she completed the insult with a snicker, albeit no real venom.
Instantly a fire erupted in the fireplace and a low tune started playing throughout the room. A soft, slow melody that was very pleasant and soothing. Harry opened his eyes and saw it had started to lightly snow out the windows, giving the room an extremely cozy feel. He looked down at Pansy who slowly turned to regard the fire, then cocked her head listening to the music, allowing several strands of her beautiful hair to fall off her ear. Finally she turned back to see the snow and raised her head to Harry, locking his gaze with hers. Her eyebrow up in amusement as a sly smile quirked the tip of her lips.
"Romantic….." she drawled, slowly exposing her absolutely dazzling white teeth in a smile.
"That's not- I didn't- this isn't what- I don't know what's happening!" Harry babbled as she opened her mouth and let loose a laugh that seemed to remind Harry of a soft summer evening as the last rays of light are disappearing over the horizon. She reached out and touched his hand sending a charge of electricity through Harry so violently he was surprised he didn't shake.
"Calm down Chosen One," she laughed, exaggerating his nick-name, "I'm just giving you shit," finishing with a wink and turning back towards the mountains. "You reckon you know where we are supposed to be right now? What mountains are these?"
Harry did everything he could think of. He closed his eyes and counted to ten. He took several deep breaths NOT through his nose. He touched each of his fingertips with his thumb twice. Nothing was helping. He couldn't get the aroma out of his head, couldn't get that uncomfortable feeling out of his stomach, and couldn't, for the life of him, get the glowing picture of Pansy's hair cascading down around her face, outlining all of the perfect curves and contours there. Beyond frustrated with these adolescent hormones he was showing he was incapable of controlling, he kept staring out the window, shaking his head slightly. His attention was so laser focused on anything, everything, anything at all that wasn't Pansy Parkinson that he nearly jumped when she nudged his shoulder with her forehead. His head snapped around to regard an all-too-close-to-his-face Pansy.
"Hey, Boy-Wonder, I'm talking to you." She cocked her head quizzically to one side and smirked, "What's going on in that head up there?"
What is going on in my head? Oh that would go over real well… 'Oh nothing Pansy, just wondering what it would be like if I lifted you up, pushed you against this window and snogged your brains out.' Yeah, she would hex the shit out of me and I might let her, for being such a creep. What is even going on with me right now?
"Erm, yeah sorry, uh, maybe the Alps?" He managed to stammer out, "Dunno a lot of geography."
"Nah, too big. My family and I have gone to the Alps many times for vacation." He cheeks flushed slightly as she said that, "Sorry that sounded really snobby."
They stood in silence for another few minutes, an odd calm settling over the pair of them. Harry wasn't really sure what to do next. Part of him wanted to just run out the door all the way back to his common room and forget all of this had even happened. But an equal part of him wanted to stay, get some god damn courage, and figure out just what in the hell was happening. Ultimately deciding on the latter, he turned fully to face Pansy, who shifted to a small slouch on her back foot in front of him, when suddenly, the music changed to a much more dramatic tune and her face visibly lit up.
"Oh my God I love this song! It was a favorite of mine when I was a kid whenever my parents took me to those stuffy meetings and get-togethers." She reached out and grasped Harry's hand, lifting it up and twirling herself underneath it, "It's my faaaavorite dance song. C'mon!" she continued excitedly, pulling on Harry, leading him towards the middle of the room.
He let himself be pulled and soon they were spinning and twirling around the room. Harry had no idea what he was doing but that didn't seem to be a problem. It wasn't a very intimate dance and basically just featured Pansy twirling, spinning and kicking around him while she giggled and laughed. Harry was taken totally off-guard at the turn of events and basically just followed her around the floor, offering his hand when she would reach for it, or move how she would suddenly direct him. With another laugh she grabbed his hand and spun towards him, placing her free hand on his chest while resting her forehead above it in a fit of laughter.
"Who would have thought that the legendary Boy-Who-Lived would also be the Boy-Who-Sucks-At-Dancing?" she said with a shining smile, "I love it though, thank you. Draco never would dance with me unless it was some shit with a really heavy bass, just so he had an excuse to make me rub my ass all over him."
Harry's cheeks went pink as he quickly conjured up a mental image of it and thinking of Pansy moving her curves against him in such an intimate way. No sooner had the image materialized in his mind when the music suddenly shifted to a loud, slow bass beat you would hear in a club. Pansy's forehead flew off his chest, eyebrows shooting up in shock leaving her mouth hanging open. The music stopped instantly and returned back to a soft, pleasant sound but Pansy's face slowly fell from shock into a knowing smirk. Harry's face was so hot it could have been on fire.
"Having a bit of a fantasy up there?" she taunted, running her hand from his chest to his head, "Room of Requirement pick up on a few impure thoughts here?"
Harry's mouth worked but no sounds would come out. He wanted to diffuse the situation, somehow. Wanted to escape from those piercing, taunting brown eyes. Wanted to stop feeling powerless under the soft touch of her hand, like he would do anything in his power to keep her looking at him. He took a deep breath to steady his mind, and nearly lost himself. The smell of her perfume assaulted his senses again, sending his head spinning and disabling cognitive thought. In the moment it took him to rebalance himself on his weakened knees, he realized Pansy's hand was still on his cheek, other hand in a tightening grip on the front of his robe. His vision was slightly blurry and head felt like it was swimming but he distinctly understood that Pansy was now flush against him up on her tiptoes, her face filling his vision. He felt the tug on his tunic as her other hand slipped behind his neck.
"What are you doing?" he managed to choke out in a whisper as he felt his nose connect with something. Another nose, a soft nose, a perfect nose, Pansy's nose. Her breath rolled across his face sending tingling shocks all the way down to his toes as her lips brushed against his with the lightest of touches. "Shut up, Scar-Head." She said against his mouth, her eyes closed and pressure was applied to the back of Harry's neck as he leaned down, sealing their lips against each other.
Harry's mind stopped working properly. It raced at a million miles an hour without actually going anywhere. Don't cough! Breathe using your nose, in, out. She tastes like French Vanilla, I would have imagined something more deadly. I wonder what I'm supposed to be doing with my hands?
While fireworks exploded in his head and Harry stood there in total and complete shock, Pansy seemed to not only know what she was doing, but take matters into her own hands. Suddenly her second hand came up and threaded into his messy hair, clutching it and pulling on it slightly. She launched herself into the air, knees locking onto either side of his waist, and she flexed her toned thighs holding her body up and straddling him. Her arms fell onto the top of his shoulders while his arms snaked underneath her to help support her weight. His neck was suddenly craned up at the sudden change in her position and his glasses were pushing painfully into his nose. Pansy quickly swiped them off his face and they clattered to the ground.
The first moments of their chaste kiss seemed to be filled with questions, possible regrets, the sheer overwhelming taboo emotion of a Gryffindor and Slytherin, especially Harry and Pansy, finding themselves in a situation that even resembled this. Apprehensive is how he would have described it. But the moment Pansy locked her remarkably shapely legs around him and swatted his glasses off, the spell seemed to have broken as they virtually attacked each other's lips, each trying to apply more pressure than their partner. Hungry, desperate, that's how he would have described it then, as Pansy literally pushed his mouth open with her tongue. Her hair fell all around his face onto his neck as their tongues danced around each other, causing some of the most primal sounds Harry had ever heard to escape Pansy's mouth into his.
He moved forward slightly and suddenly bumped into a table that had not been there previously. Without even questioning it, he sunk her down so she was sitting on the edge, pushing her down with his body so her back was lying down, him leaning down on top of her while they continued their maelstrom of passion. For many minutes all that could be heard was guttural moans coming from either of them while their hands roved each other's bodies. Harry couldn't stop himself from lacing his fingers through her hair over and over, it felt just so incredibly perfect. Pansy, on the other hand, had managed to knock Harry's robe off his shoulders and was currently snaking her hands up the inside of his shirt. Harry came suddenly crashing back into what was left of his senses and let out a gasp, trying to pull away and stand up straight.
"And where the fuck do you think you're going?" Pansy said against his mouth as she followed him up with her body, not letting him separate. Her hands whipped out from underneath his shirt and grabbed two fistfuls of hair as she locked her feet around his waist. "Get the fuck back down here." She moaned as she yanked his hair and literally dragged him fully onto the table on top of her. His last willpower shattered in that moment as he felt his feet leave the ground and all he could feel was her delicate and mesmerizing curves on him.
Pansy pushed and shifted slightly under him and Harry got the hint, as she rolled him over and was now straddling him against the table top, bent low as she left his mouth for a particularly tender spot against his neck. Lights exploded in Harry's head as she nibbled on a spot he didn't even know he had and his hands instinctively flowed down her back, fingertips nestling just inside the beltline of her pants. But as much as he wanted to know what that particular asset felt like in his hands, he had too much honor to just start feeling her up, even in this situation.
Pansy seemed to sense his mindset and gave a giggle that tickled his neck. "You know, Potter, you can touch my ass if you want to," she said in between kisses, "I think we are past the point of chivalry now."
Pansy moved from his neck down to the underside of his jaw, which bloomed a whole new sensation in Harry's mind as he craned his head back as far as he could to allow her to explore. "I bet you didn't even know you required this." She whispered against the bottom of his chin as she gave little nips with her teeth, nearly sending Harry spiraling off the edge of madness as his lower body started to truly react to what was going on here.
But something in the way she said that tugged at the last strand of his mind that was Harry Potter. Required this? The music. The fireplace blazing up. The table suddenly appearing. Pansy's presence at all. Like an abacus clacking in his mind, all of the beads got pushed into the proper place at once. The Room. Harry lurched up and shoved Pansy off of him with all the strength he could muster. Pushing her several feet off of the table as she stumbled to keep her balance, the look of genuine shock all over her face.
"You." He gasped, still out of breath from the passionate scene he had been in the middle of, "You're the room! You are part of the room!"
Pansy's shocked face instantly flushed crimson and she bit her lip, sheepishly looking at Harry through long lashes.
"Busted."
"But how?! I didn't even know you could make people! Why are you doing this to me? Is this some twisted game?" Anger burned in Harry's eyes.
Pansy shrugged, still sheepishly glancing away, "You required it." She said simply.
"I required it?!" he roared, "How the hell did I require it?"
Stepping forward delicately, Pansy placed a hand on Harry's forearm, holding his gaze steady now. "You felt like nothing in the world could calm you, make you happy. That you didn't deserve a happy ending like in books you read." She tapped a finger to his forehead, "But I see in here, what you need. Even if you don't know what it is you're searching for to be content in life, I can see it."
Harry barked out a laugh, "All you have shown me is I will be miserable since I'm apparently totally in love with a girl that hates me."
A look of confusion crossed The Room's face, "Parkinson? Parkinson doesn't hate you."
Another laugh escaped Harry's lips, "Oh no, I'm pretty sure she does."
The Room crossed her arms, an annoyed look crossing her face, "Harry, how do I work?"
"What?"
"How? Do I? Work?" The Room asked in a slow, deliberate manner.
"You, erm, sense the need of someone and make yourself to fit that?"
"And how do I do that?"
"You picture in your head what is required and walk past the door three times."
The Room closed the distance even further, looking directly up into Harry's face, a quizzical eyebrow razed. "Get to the finish line…" she murmured.
Realization snapped in Harry's head, "You can read minds." He exclaimed in excitement.
A look of mock surprise passed over her face as she placed a taunting hand over her over-exaggerated gaping mouth, slowly replaced by a sly smirk like she was keeping a secret he would like to know. "Parkinson has wandered past this hall a few hundred times over the years." The Room threw a wink towards Harry, "Something tells me she doesn't hate you."
"So," Harry swallowed loudly, "So she feels like this too?"
A cat-like grin blossomed coyly on The Rooms face, "Now where would be the fun in telling you something like that?" She quickly glanced towards the door, "Oh, imagine that, Parkinson is on her way down from the Owlry." She reached up and patted Harry's cheek, "This has been fun and you have been a wonderful sport," she continued, giving him a once over with her eyes, "but I believe you have someone to catch out in the hall. Good luck." She said with a final wink, both hands coming up above her head and snapping her fingers. The room immediately disappeared and he found himself in a cramped broom closet.
Fumbling for the door, he stepped on a pail and lost his balance, literally tumbling into the hallway in front of a very startled Pansy Parkinson. A small yell of alarm passed her lips on her shocked face before it was replaced with a smoldering stare of anger. "Potter?! What the fuck?! You scared me half to death! Why were you just hanging out in a broom closet?"
Harry gained his feet and brushed himself off. He looked up and into her eyes. They were filled with anger and venom but he didn't seem to notice, as his mind kept conjuring up images of what have transpired over the last half hour. Her radiant hair shaking smoothly as she moved her head. The rose in her cheeks still present after coming inside from the nipping cold. Full lips that he ached to feel just one more time.
He had no real plan but in taking all of that in, he came to the painful realization that The Room was right. He wanted this girl in the worst possible way and every second in her presence that he wasn't holding her literally felt like an ever widening pit was appearing in his stomach. Fuck it he thought to himself as he started to walk towards her, Might as well get this over with.
"Hey Pansy, mind if I walk with you for a few minutes? I've got to talk to you about something."
If he wasn't looking for it specifically, he would have missed the way her mouth closed and smallest, smallest of smiles quirked the very edge of her lips before responding in her best 'I'm bored of this' voice.
"I suppose. What did you need to talk to me about?"