CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: Users AngryCheeseBalls and burden27 both recommended the song, "Stolen" by Dashboard Confessional for Ron & Pansy this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Ron's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to AngryCheeseBalls and burden27 - congratulations! Lyrics for the main chapter song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen.

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!

P.S. Unseenlibrarian – Once more, you have proven your amazing skills with the editing pen. THANK YOU!

PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter? Short, I know, but this is a 'resting period' for them… sort of.

Chapter Eight (#3) – Ron & Pansy

"Red, of course."

"Purple, for me."

Ron looked askance at her. "Not green? I'd have thought you'd like Slytherin colors best."

Pansy shook her head, and her hair tickled his nose. "Hate them, honestly. My family's home is decorated around the theme, as my parents were in Slytherin together. I'm sick unto death of green, silver and black." She looked over her shoulder at him. "Someday, if we get our own place, promise you'll let me decorate at least one room in a purple theme."

Uncomfortably seated on the conjured swimming pool's built-in bench, he adjusted Parkinson's bare bum a little to the left to prevent his nads from becoming jellified by her weight upon them, and considered what she'd just said. "If?" he questioned, feeling a nervous flutter in his belly. "Don't you want to live with me?"

Pansy turned her cheek into him and rubbed against his damp hair. They'd been swimming (and splashing each other) earlier, and it was still quite wet from that little romp-fest. "I wasn't sure… I didn't want to assume, I mean."

He rubbed a hand over her tummy. "We're going to have a baby together," he stated, smiling at the thought. "I'd hope that means you'll want to live with me."

"I do, but… where will we go?" she wondered. "I won't be able to go home after all of this." She sounded so forlorn. "Papa - he doesn't like to be thwarted, and Mama is… well, a pureblood wife of the aristocracy. I doubt they'll take my rebellion in stride."

She shivered against him, and Ron had the impression that something dark and ugly had just entered the room with them. He cradled her close and turned her in his arms, tilting her chin up. Her eyes were wide and the pupils flared with… yeah, that was clearly fear. A sudden need to protect bloomed in his chest, and a suspicion had his anger simmering under the surface.

"Do they physically hurt you?" he asked.

Wariness slid across Pansy's features, to quickly be shuttered and controlled until only a beautiful, cold mask existed where previously there had been expression and light. It was the face she usually wore around school. She'd shut down on him, stealing back the tenderness exchanged between them over the past few hours, and he didn't like it one bit. It felt wrong in ways he couldn't express to see her return to the woman she'd been prior to the game's beginning.

"Shite," he swore, his ire rising. "They hit you, don't they?"

"Of course not," she stated, her voice a pale reflection of its previous warmth.

He grabbed her arms in a rougher grip and held her steady. "You're lying to me." He shook his head, feeling resolute in his intentions in this matter. "This isn't a game, Pans. I love you and I'm asking you for the truth: do they hit you?"

The ice cracked and she swallowed. "I'm pureblood," was her reply.

"So am I," he reminded her. "That doesn't mean shite. Spanking is one thing, but worse? Not acceptable. Did they do worse to you, baby? Tell me."

She didn't say anything, but her eyes hardened into stone and her lips clamped together in a tight, thin line. The Bitch Queen of Slytherin had retaken her throne.

Ron's stomach plummeted, making him feel ill as he imagined all sorts of depraved scenarios. "They whipped you, didn't they?"

The minutest twitch of her eyelid was all that gave the truth away.

"What else did they do to you?" he demanded, innately understanding what was not being spoken. A suddenly thought crossed his mind – the day in the Transfiguration corridor, she'd been doing a serious bout of crying. "Shite, did they threaten you if you didn't marry that Durmstrang fucker?"

She pulled out of his embrace and gracefully swam away from him on her back, her eyes refusing to meet his. "Does it matter? I'm not marrying him no matter what, so I'll accept whatever punishment they can dole out."

With two full side strokes from his powerful arms, he caught her in the middle and grabbed hold of her waist, pulling her back into his embrace. "If they so much as touch a hair on your head…" he warned. "You're mine to care for now, baby - my witch. Got that? You'll come live with me after graduation. I won't let them hurt you ever again."

Her dark gaze glittered with unshed tears, her shoulders slumped with defeat. "Live where?"

"All of my money's tied-up in my brothers' business as an investment, so it would have to be at my family's home first," he offered. "But if I called on my siblings to help – especially Bill and Charlie, we could all work together on weekends to build a cottage on the property just for us. A year at most, and we'll be in our own home," he figured. "It would be small, but cozy. A good starter. And it would be close enough to my mum that if we needed a babysitter, she could help out." Fingering her wet hair over the shell of her ear, he gave her a reassuring smile. "You can paint the inside purple, if you want. I don't mind."

She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. "You realize my father and mother will make this hell on both of us? They're politically influential, like the Malfoys and Signora Zabini. They could… make it troubling for your job."

"Look at me," he commanded, cupping her cheeks. When she obeyed, he gave her his most confident smirk. "I'm not worried. Weasleys are resilient. I can take whatever they dish." He kissed her lips with gentleness, feeling his chest hitch again with the powerful emotions that he felt for this witch. They threatened to consume and overwhelm him every time he touched her, and he wondered again why they'd both been so stubborn for so many years. "I will protect you. You're mine."

Sniffling, she rubbed the tears from her cheeks. "I'm scared," she admitted in a small whisper. "It's all so much – us getting together, trying for a baby, moving in together, leaving my family home forever – no matter how horrid my parents have been, graduating. It's happening so fast."

He nodded. "I know." Pulling her into a full hug, he pressed his cheek into her and sighed. "But, Pans, we'll have each other. I promise we can work it all out, just so long as you want us to be together. Everything else, we'll take as it comes. I'll be with you, at your side the whole way."

"I'm Slytherin," she reminded him. "It's hard for me not to plan ahead. Tonight changed all the rules for me in that aspect. I just thought this game would be my last chance to have fun, and Draco asked me as a friend to do him this favor, so I agreed to play. I never foresaw my whole world upending. I don't know how to face it without a plan in place."

He float-walked them over to the ledge again and settled her in his lap. "How about this: we'll pretend to your parents that things are going according to their plan for you regarding the marriage contract to the wanker."

"Philos," she sniffed. "That's his name."

Ron shrugged. "Philos-Schmeelos. Whatever. Just let them think you're going to marry him on schedule. Then, after the graduation ceremony, we explain to them that I knocked you up and we're engaged…"

She jerked back and looked at him with astonishment. "Wait, we're engaged? As in, 'getting married soon'?"

He raised one ginger eyebrow at that and snorted. "Well, yeah. What did you think I've been talking about for almost the last two hours?"

A cunning glint came into her eye and she teasingly smiled at him. "It's funny, but I don't remember you asking me to marry you, Mr. Weasley. Properly, that is." She melodramatically shoved her left hand out in front of her and wiggled the fingers. "Nope, not at all."

Oh, for the love of…!

He dumped her off his lap and headed towards the other side of the pool, towards the exit. Pansy dropped with a squeak under the water, coming back up sputtering and huffing with indignation. He tried to hide his chuckle and smile as he hurried to the stairs, knowing she'd hex his arse once she got her wand back in hand.

"Ronald Weasley!" she shouted, sounding extremely cross with him. "You'd better run, you rotten fink!"

A fuss of splashing erupted from behind him and knew she was hurrying through the water to get at him. He hopped up the steps and out, fully naked and dripping water all over the floor. Thank goodness this was the Room of Requirement, as it was easy to conjure a towel and dry up the mess with merely a thought. He waited for her at the top of the stairs and watched as she rose from the water like some Roman goddess of retribution, countenance full of wroth, and rose blooming in her cheeks and down her body. "Here you go, baby," he rubbed down her shoulders and arms, patting her skin dry, unable to stop the grin that overtook his face.

She put her hands on her hips and let him play at kiss-up. "That's right, slave-boy: minister to me with the appropriate humility. It's the only thing saving your skin right now."

"I live but to serve you, my great Queen of Snakes," he joked.

She smacked his arm, but allowed him to pamper her to make up for being a prat and dumping her on her backside into the water.

Running the towel over her long, graceful limbs, he smacked his lips at the fetching sight of her nude body as it blushed and trembled under his touch – especially her tits, with their frosted plum nipples that stood up in attention at the change in temperatures. Unable to resist, he bent his upper body and took one between his lips. Pansy moaned, threw her head back and ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him in tighter as he worshipped her body again with hands, lips and tongue.

"Marry me?" he murmured the question between pulls of her nip. "Say yes."

Pansy hummed in joy. "It depends on what you do to me next," she rather breathily replied.

Dropping to his knees without pause, he licked straight up her slit, latching onto her tiny clit and sucking very gently. He knew she was probably as sore as he was, but that undeniable attraction between them helped to heighten her arousal; she was damp with her juices from just this little bit of attention. Unfortunately, he was physically reaching the end of his rope, having shagged her half to death in the last couple of hours, the Restorative Potion giving him the strength for a valiant run, but not enough for a final rally, it seemed. Instead, he concentrated on her pleasure this time, using his honed talent at oral manipulation – something Lavender and Romilda had both demanded he perfect on them – to bring her to bliss.

Very soon, his witch's whimpers became gasping breaths, and her cream frothed his chin and lips as she neared climax again. Her fingernails raked across his skull – Merlin, he loved that! – and she looked down at him to watch as he continued lapping at her essence, drinking it down.

"I love you," she murmured, her lower extremities tightening up against the palms of his hands, which cradled her beautiful bum and kept her close. "I never thought I could be this happy. I… Oh, Ron! Yes, yes, I'm yours!"

She climaxed, throwing her head back. Looking up the long line of her perfect body, Ron felt a tightening of his own – in his chest. He loved her and was never more aware of it than in that moment. Fate, karma, the gods - whoever or whatever was responsible for this - he'd owe them big for allowing him to have her.

As her knees gave out, she fell onto his lap, straddling him. He caught her easily and drew her into his arms again. They fit so well together, too.

"Right," she panted, struggling to regain composure. "It's decided then," she stated.

He bumped foreheads with her and licked the residual of her from his lips, enjoying the lemony-slightly salty flavor. "What is, baby?"

Her eyes met his, and in them, he saw his future.

"I can work with jewel tones – in the bedroom, I think would be best," she impishly stated, giving him a hopeful smile that blew him away. "Purple sheer curtains and fluffy throw rugs, red satin sheets and pillows. Sexy and regal. Oooh, and how would you feel about black mixed in there, too? We could go for the Goth look!"

Smile tugging at his cheek, Ron chuckled. "Oh, yeah, I fancy the whole modern dungeon theme. Don't forget the chains mounted to our headboard," he joked.

Pansy's gaze flared to life and she practically bounced up and down in his lap with enthusiasm. "I know I said I hate silver, but in this case I'll make an exception, lover. Silver chains it is!"

Strangely turned on at the thought at the same time as horrified by the idea, Ron rolled his eyes and tried to control his growing arousal. "I've turned my woman into a monster."

Noting the press of his steeling flesh between her thighs, Pansy reached down and stroked it to life once again, defying his earlier exhaustion. "Turned me into one? Hardly. I've always been an animal, baby," she purred against his lips, lids shuttering to half-mast with sultry intention. She dropped to the floor and leaned down with her mouth. "Here, let me prove it."

And she did… she really, really did!

Thankfully, he'd finished and she'd swallowed every drop of his release just in time for Harry to come knocking on their door.

TO BE CONTINUED…

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Stolen" by Dashboard Confessional. Lyrics are as follows…

We watched the season pull up its own stakes,
and catch the last weekend of the last week
before the gold and the glimmer have been replaced.
Another sun-soaked season fades away…

You have stolen my heart.
You have stolen my heart.

Invitation-only, grand farewells…
Crashed the best one of "the best ones".
Clear liquor and cloudy eye…
Too early to say "good night".

You have stolen my heart.
You have stolen my heart.

And from the foreign fall we are the celebration
One good stretch before our hibernation.
Our dreams assured, and we all will sleep well…
Sleep well.
Sleep well.
Sleep well.
Sleep well.

You have stolen…
You have stolen…
You have stolen my heart!

Watch you spin around on the highest heels…
You are the best one of "the best ones".
We all look like we feel!

You have stolen my…
You have stolen my…
You have stolen my heart.