Eros & Psyche Chapter 9B: Ron & Pansy, a harry potter fanfic

CONTEST WINNERS THIS CHAPTER: AngryCheeseBalls and hell-of-a-gal bothrecommended the song, "Only Girl" by Rihanna for Ron & Pansy this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Pansy's thoughts about Ron here. Also, stikkiebee recommended "According to You" by Orianthi, and I thought it was a wonderful song that could be applied to Pansy's thoughts about her parents in this chapter. So, this chapter is dedicated to AngryCheeseBalls, hell-of-a-gal, and stikkiebee – congratulations all! Lyrics for both songs appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find these songs somehow and give them 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 to: rzzmg at yahoo dot com.

CHAPTER NINE (#2): Ron & Pansy

"I'm worried about him."

"Em uddy fank farvin."

Pansy opened her mouth to respond to Ron's grumbled reply, but suddenly realised she had absolutely no idea what he had just said. "You're what?" she asked, tilting her head to the side, and pushing on his shoulders to get him to lift his head from where he was currently sucking the pulse right out of her neck. That love bite he was working on so diligently was going to be huge if he kept it up…

He mumbled something again that sounded remarkably like, "I am ruddy Hank Marvin."

What, on Salazar's beard, did that mean? Who was Hank Marvin?

"Uh, darling… have I shagged you into such a state of exhaustion that you're now… delirious?"

Wow. That would be a first. Bragging rights were hers!

"I said, I'm starving," he translated, pulling his mouth off of her neck and lifting his lips to her ear instead to lick over her lobe. A moment later, his stomach echoed the sentiment.

Pansy chuckled, momentarily distracted from her gloomy thoughts about Draco's erratic behaviour by her lover's insatiable appetites shifting from one type to another in the blink of an eye.

She shoved harder against Ron, pushing him away from the crook of her neck, where he'd been happily nibbling away for the last several minutes, intending on marking her up so there would be no doubt that she'd been thoroughly ravished tonight. Her partner came up for air with a twinkling smile, staring down at her. "I saw food in the main room, on a table." He waggled his ginger-russet eyebrows at her. "This'll be the first time I've had breakfast with the same witch I shared dessert with."

"Not true," she laughed. "You always eat dessert every night at Gryffindor's table with your friends – girls included – and then get up the next day and have breakfast at the same table with them."

He tilted his head, his grin stretching wide over his handsome features. "You have been watching me!"

Pansy felt her cheeks heat, as she realized what she'd let slip. Recovering quickly, she sniffed and played off her embarrassment. "Not like a person can miss your bright red hair. It's a beacon that draws the eye."

He tickled her sides and she fought against the laughter that burst from her lips. "Little liar," her lover teased. "You've been eyeing me. You fancied me at least a little before tonight. Admit it."

Her heart turned over, even as she squirmed to try to get away from his playful hands. "I… admit… to… nothing!" she declared in between gasping, giggling breaths. "Stop, stop!"

The pressure against her sides eased, and he pulled back, sitting up on his knees over her. "Stubborn wench. Fine, don't admit what we both know is the truth." He crawled off of her, all smiles, and extended a hand to her to help her off the bed. She slapped her palm into his with a meaty whack, and he tugged her to her feet beside him. Instantly, his arms came around her, pulling her in tight. "Don't blame you, though. You can't help yourself. I'm just all that."

Rolling her eyes and snickering, Pansy reached up on tiptoe –gads, Ron was tall– and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Yes, you're all that… full of yourself." She rubbed her nose against his and smiled up at him through a half-lidded gaze. "Let's go get you that breakfast now. You're going to need the energy."

His lips twitched with amusement. "That so? Thought you'd shagged me into delirium?"

She gave him a wicked smirk. "Not quite yet. We'll get there though."

Conjuring a purple silken robe, Pansy wrapped it around her naked body, and tied it off at the waist. When she turned, she noted Ron had copied her, albeit his robe was red satin. Gods, he looked good in that little scrap of material. As she took him in from head to toe, she absently noted that he wasn't built with the typical Keeper's form, as his position on his Quidditch team dictated, but with a Beater's strength, with sturdy, broad shoulders and tree trunks for thighs. There was a solid, reassuring power in his tall frame… just as there was at the core of his personality.

Ronald Weasley was made for endurance, she suddenly realized, able and willing to stand against the harshest of storms to protect his family and friends. His sappily compassionate nature was compensated by a fierce, sincere loyalty that couldn't be bought or sold, as it was innate to the make-up of his great, lion-like heart. In short, he was a man who would move heaven and earth to keep his loved ones safe, and that drew her to him in ways that overcame her generally suspicious and pessimistic Slytherin nature.

It would also ensure she could never get away with any deception regarding her past… Not with how easily he forced her to face the most painful truths in her life. The thought had her internally cringing in fear. Would things change between them once he found out her darkest secrets?

"Baby, you all right?" Ron asked, closing the distance between them and placing his hands on her arms, rubbing up and down, his touch intending to reassure and provide comfort.

Unable to meet his earnest gaze, she dropped her eyes to his chest and leaned into him. "Just… worried."

"About Malfoy?" His arms came around her, encircling her in their warmth, and he rested his cheek against her hair. "You said you were worried about 'him'. I take it you meant blondie?"

She nodded.

Her lover sighed. "Yeah, well, after what Harry told us, I'm more concerned about 'Mione."

Pansy snuggled into his embrace, her cheek rubbing against the smooth fabric of his robe. "He'd never physically hurt a girl. Draco's mother raised him right in that matter. It's the injury to his hand that has me disturbed. It's not like him to lose his temper in such extreme ways… at least, not since the end of fourth year, when he outgrew his nastier taunting of you, Potter, and Granger. I wonder what enraged him."

Ron stomach picked that inconvenient moment to growl its displeasure at them again, and the serious moment was broken. "Ugh. Too much thinking. Not enough eating," he joked, turning her around to face the door. "To the tables, my pretty wench, and we'll talk on the way!"

Smiling, she led them out of their private hide-away and into the main room. It was empty indicating an action round was underway. They headed to the food table, finding it stacked with an assortment of muffins, buns, crumpets, sweet breads, and fruit. There was also coffee, tea, and pumpkin juice in tall carafes, and cream and sugar and honey in fancy ceramic condiment pots.

Grabbing two mugs, Pansy poured a spot of dark tea for the both of them. Hints of oranges and spices greeted her nose as she stirred some honey into her cup with a silver demitasse spoon. She took a long drag on the soothing, warm beverage and hummed in pleasure as it slid down her throat.

Her partner, she noted, had forgone the use of a plate, and was munching happily upon a blueberry crumpet. He held some sort of muffin out to her. She took it directly from his fingers, biting down, and instantly recognized the flavour of lemon poppy seed across her tongue. Ron brought a napkin to her face and wiped the crumbs away.

Snatching the napkin from between his fingers, she dabbed at his mouth, not to be undone.

This, of course, began a new game between them.

Reaching for some fruit next, she lifted an orange wedge and held it out to her lover. With a quick bite, he took it from her fingers and into his mouth, stripping all of the pulp in a hard suck. Plucking the rind from between his lips, he looked for some place to toss the rubbish, but was saved the effort as the Room of Requirement simply magicked it away with an easy thought by Pansy.

"Thanks, baby," he acknowledged, grinning at her. "Your turn again." He lifted a slice of apple, and it was her turn to indulge.

They continued sharing breads and fruit until she felt full to bursting.

"You can't be serious," she protested when he lifted a peeled banana to her mouth and wagged his eyebrows at her.

"Dare you," he whispered in a seductive manner.

Determined not to be named a prude, Pansy considered the best way to go about meeting the challenge Ron presented. She eyed the white piece of fruit swaying back and forth before her mouth, and then raised her gaze to his, locking on. At the same moment, her hand gripped his wrist, stopping its action. Bringing the banana closer to her mouth, she darted her tongue out and licked the tip, tasting the fruit's ripeness. It was sugary sweet, and she knew it would melt in her mouth.

Ron's eyes flashed with sexual heat. "Again," he bid, his voice a low, hungry rumble.

Playfully, Pansy traced the underside of the banana, letting the flat of her tongue glide over the soft texture from bottom to top, like licking a lolly. She then wrapped her lips around the end and sucked it deep into her mouth, lowering her head until she could feel it near the back of her throat.

Her lover groaned, and his chest pumped hard as he watched her chew the fleshy fruit and swallow it down. He licked his own lips.

"Pansy… I really like it when you're naughty."

She let her eyes drop to his waist, noting the way the robe tented in the front from his unrestrained erection. Despite how many times they'd shagged already, and the fact she'd already sucked him off, he was rearing to go again. That Restorative Potion was some miracle! She was going to have to get the recipe from Draco later…

Reversing course, she met his hot stare with one of her own. "I want you to fuck me. Right here, right now. With everything you've got," she purred.

Between one blink and the next, he was on her, the banana peel dropped to the floor without a second thought. Dragged to the sofa, she was bent over the back of it without further ado, and her robe shoved up and over her hips. Her legs were kicked wider by his foot, opening her up to him. A single, forceful thrust was all it took and Ron was deep inside her, completing Pansy once more. His flesh slapped into hers as their bodies met with animalistic ferocity.

Her yelp of shock at the wildness he unleashed quickly morphed into a pleasure-filled cry as her fiancé set a pace that was hard and fast. His firm grip on her hips held her still as he pounded into her, fucking her just as she'd asked. With her dark hair bouncing wildly around her face, and her unbound breasts jiggling in time to the rhythm he'd set, she gripped the cushions under her and held on for dear life.

"Moan again for me," he commanded, his tone dark, possessive. "Moan loud for me, my sweet, little whore."

If it weren't for the fact that an orgasm overtook her at just that moment, ripping through her system with a ferocity that bowed her spine, Pansy would have taken offence at his words. However, all thought fled as a rush of liquid bliss ran through her veins, making her cry out.

Behind her, Ron roared as he found his own release, depositing his seed deep into her with a final shove that had her tipped forward over the back of the sofa, her feet dangling off the floor and her face pressed into the cushions. He collapsed across her back the moment he'd completely emptied himself into her, draping his big body over hers in exhaustion. Against the curve of her throat, his breath came fast and hot. "Baby, so good," he sleepily murmured. "Time for bed, though. I'm really done."

As her brain settled, and her heart calmed, Ron's words caught up to her tired mind. Hurt abruptly took the place of the high she'd been riding, crushing her good mood. "You called me a whore," she reminded him, truly miffed. With shaky arms, she tried to lift her body off the back of the couch. Ron's added weight made the attempt difficult. "You're heavy," she growled. "Off."

With a sigh, Ron slowly extricated his body from hers, standing on his own two feet again. "What did you say?" he asked. "I called you a what?"

Lowering her toes to the stone floor, Pansy pushed her body off the sofa and lowered her robe, straightening it. Between her thighs, she could feel Ron's seed escaping the clasp of her body, slicking her skin. She tried to ignore how good it felt as she re-tied the sash around her waist. "A whore," she restated. "You said, 'moan loud for me my sweet, little whore.'" Anger began to burn in her chest at the thought. "Why would you call me something so foul? I am not a common street slag."

Ron was quiet for a while, so she turned to look at him. His expression was troubled, and his blue eyes shone with confusion.

"I didn't…" He paused, his frown deepening. "I don't remember saying that."

"Well, you did," she reaffirmed, "and it hurt to hear it. Don't ever call me that again."

Stricken by her accusation, he got on his knees, at her feet and apologised. As he glanced up at her from his position on the floor, his face was that of a lost, little child's, and there was honest puzzlement in the set of his features. "I'm so sorry, baby. I honestly… I don't remember saying that. I've never called any woman that word in my life!"

Fancying herself something of an expert on lies, Pansy noted that there was too much genuine remorse reflected in his gaze for Ron to be fibbing. Which meant he'd said that awful word without meaning to… and she wondered if that meant it was something he unconsciously thought about her. She knew sometimes people said things during unguarded moments, like during sex, that they wouldn't normally say to their partner – like calling out some other person's name during orgasm, or becoming critical of their partner for not giving an adequate performance in bed every time.

In his heart of hearts, did Ron actually think of her as an easy mark that would give up her body for money or other powerful advantages?

That possibility cut deep.

If she was being brutally honest, though, she couldn't say it was entirely unexpected that he would think such a thing, as she'd heard some of the horrible rumours that had gone around the castle about her since she'd become sexually active. Guys were innately hypocritical like that, wanting an experienced girl to please them, but degrading them later for not being pure after they'd had their taste. Being called the 'W' word by those arseholes wasn't the worst of the foulness that had been whispered about her behind her back as a result.

Without a doubt, Ron had heard such nasty things about her over the years; she figured her reputation had been tarnished in his eyes long before tonight. Ten hours of continuous sexual mischief with him since the start of the game certainly hadn't done much to dispel such lies, either – especially given how she'd sucked his cock and swallowed his come during the very first action round.

Yeah, he probably thought she'd well-earned the title of 'Queen of the Cupboards'.

"It doesn't matter," she murmured, her spirits having sunk into the soles of her feet as her dark thoughts chipped away at her self-esteem. She turned away, heading back towards their private room. "Forget it."

She'd taken exactly four steps before she was swept up into Ron's arms and seated on his lap as he plunked his bum down on the nearest sofa. He was scowling at her.

"It matters, Pans."

"No, it doesn't. I know what everyone says about me." She shrugged, hiding her hurt behind indifference. "I'm used to it by now."

He set her knees down so she was seated fully upon him without his support, and reached up to tilt her chin, attempting to force her into meeting his eyes. "I don't think you're a whore."

Focussing on his lips, she refuted him. "You do, too. You said as much that day in the Transfiguration corridor. You said, 'I'm sure there are plenty of openings for a good tuba player or balloon blower out there somewhere, and it beats whoring yourself out to some pure-blood ponce.'"

Ron swore under his breath. "Bloody hell, but I am such a bloomin' bastard sometimes. Love, I was bang out of line that day. I said that only to get a rise out of you. I never meant it."

"It's the truth, though, isn't it?" she despaired. "I have been whored out to a pure-blood ponce… by my own parents." Tears of shame stung her eyes, and just like that day she'd first gotten the news of her impending marriage to the wizard from Durmstrang, she felt the hand of Fate hold her in a tight, choking fist and shake her hard. "My own mother and father sold me to some stranger for a few thousand Galleons and the promise of blood purity. How could they do that? I'm their only daughter!"

But she already knew the answer to that question, didn't she? As a female child, her family's last name would not go with her into the marriage bed, so she was of little worth to her parents except to secure a smart match to a wealthy and influential pureblood son. At least then they'd have a political alliance with some other "acceptable" family.

Even as a very young child, she'd always been painfully aware of the low value her parents had placed upon her. They'd spared her little affection in her life, giving the lion's share over to her older brother, Jamie. They'd also felt absolutely no qualms about using physical punishments or employing her True Wizarding Name against her to keep her toeing the line, covering up the evidence of their brutish ways with cleverly woven Glamour Charms and healing spells to avoid scandal.

Hell, it was no wonder she'd been desperate to find someone to love her…

"I hate them," she whispered with vehemence as she sobbed. "My mother and father… I wish they would just die!"

"Don't say that," Ron cautioned, knowing the power behind such words. Even with the TWN's restraint upon an under-aged witch or wizard to prevent accidental magic use, nothing was guaranteed. Magic was wild, unpredictable by nature and if one's will was strong enough, anything was possible – at least according to Dumbledore.

"I mean it!" she promised him. "I wouldn't waste a pine box on them if they were to go arse-up tomorrow. I'd just dig a hole somewhere random and toss them in. No marker. I wouldn't even dirty my hands with the spade. I'd just use my wand." She shivered, closing her eyes tightly and felt the spill of her tears down her cold cheeks. "Let the world forget such horrible people ever existed. They'd deserve no less."

Pansy could tell she'd astonished her lover with such awful words, but they were what she honestly felt, and she refused to take any of it back. She did want Ron to understand why she felt that way, though. She needed him to, so he wouldn't continue to look at her as he was doing now, with astonishment and concern that she might even be a bit mentally unstable. It was not the Slytherin way to lay one's heart out for possible butchering, though. Old Salazar would roll in his grave if he knew what she was contemplating just then.

Fuck it. She'd already stepped completely outside her comfort zone tonight when she'd given her feelings away to a red-haired Gryffindor from a blood-traitor family, so she might as well go for broke...

Gads, she was becoming more and more red and gold by the hour!

Taking a deep breath, she began her life's tale, leaving nothing of her horrible childhood out. She talked about the years of physical and magical abuses she'd endured under her parents' hands, and the clever cover-ups to prevent any gossip. She told him of the cold, brittle silences and the heated, harsh reprimands at every turn, and explained to him her desperation for love as a result, looking in all the wrong places for it. All of the Parkinson's dirty family secrets were blown wide open to an outsider for the first time… and it hurt to confess such shame to another person, but it was also freeing in a way Pansy hadn't expected.

When she was done talking, she unexpectedly burst into tears, the pressure of finally having spoken bursting out of her like a river freed from its dam.

Ron pulled her into him then, wrapping his burly arms around her as she poured her heart out onto his silken-clad shoulder. He remained a silent sympathizer, but trembled with raw feeling as he rocked her back and forth, letting her expunge the venom of her life's resentment and disappointment against the solid mass of his body.

It took a long while before the storm of her tears tapered off, and then she lay like a limp ragdoll in her lover's arms, letting him support and continue to comfort her. He whispered things against her hair, words she couldn't make out over the sound of her heart's fierce beating in her ears, but they were meant to be sweet and consoling, she knew.

"I love you," she told him again, nuzzling closer.

He took a shuddering breath. "Baby, I'm so sorry you went through all that." He sounded destroyed, his voice choked with emotion. "After this blasted game is over, if you want, I can make you mine in every way so you'll never have to set foot in your family's house again." He tilted her chin up so he could meet her eye. "From my dad's job, I know the Ministry general offices are closed on the weekends, but 'Mione once said that Muggles get married every day of the week. If you don't mind, we could sneak out of the castle and find a Muggle somewhere with the authority to marry us this week, before graduation. You wouldn't have to be under their thumb anymore."

Pansy's whole world jolted to a violent stop. "Married by Muggles? But that's… I mean… it's just..." She paused in her automatic rejection of the idea, giving it some consideration, and was stunned by its simple brilliance. Right, so, marriage by Muggle wasn't at all what she'd envisioned for her wedding, but in this case, it seemed a good alternative to being forced to go back to the Parkinson home post-graduation. "Legally, I'd be considered emancipated if we did it that way, wouldn't I? The Ministry would recognise me as being financially freed from my parents once I became your wife." She scowled as a counter argument popped into her thoughts, squashing her enthusiasm. "But that stupid marriage arrangement with Philos would take precedence, as it's a legal contract and was signed before any of this tonight. It would invalidate any marriage we attempted."

"Except you'll be pregnant by then," Ron reminded her. "You said the contract with that Durmstrang wanker would be broken if you were carrying my child."

Merlin's white merkin, he was right!

"You're right!" she confirmed for him, gripping the lapels of his robe with growing excitement. "The contract with Philos would be nullified by me getting pregnant with your baby. Our marriage couldn't be contested or abolished by outsiders then! And you know getting married away from the Wizarding world would definitely keep my parents from barging in and attempting to interfere until we'd filed the papers at the Ministry."

For those reasons, she could definitely overlook a Muggle presiding over her nuptials.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, exactly! Half-bloods do it like that sometimes, I've heard, so they can prevent breaking the Statute of Secrecy. They run off and have some Muggle vicar marry 'em."

She rubbed the drying tears from her cheeks, sniffing. "Do they?" The thought had her realize just how little she knew about the culture of other classes, having been raised by wizarding aristocrats. "Tell me more. What would we have to do? I mean, I don't know anything about Muggles, except what we were taught in Muggle Studies classes, and I stopped taking those in fourth year, after O.W.L.s."

He tilted his head in an 'I'm not sure' manner. "It's the same for me. 'Mione would know more, though. We could ask her after the game." He paused, a thought crossing his mind that made him smile. "We could do it on Wednesday. I overheard the girls talk at dinner last night about going into London to shop for dress robes for the Graduation Ball. Maybe you can go with them, and I'll make a similar excuse. We'll meet up somewhere else, wherever 'Mione suggests."

She narrowed her eyes in consideration. "We'd have to dress like Muggles, to blend in. I don't have any of their style clothing."

"We'll ask 'Mione. I'm sure she's got some ideas on how to Transfigure our clothes."

Chewing her bottom lip, she tried to find other potential holes in the plan that would need to be plugged in advance. "What about money? I assume it costs something to marry, but I only have about a thousand Galleons to my name in total. Is that enough? Don't we have to convert it to whatever currency Muggles use?"

Ron threw her an arch eyebrow. "We'll ask 'Mione. I'm sure she'll know how to get us some Muggle money at Gringotts. I've got only about fifty Galleons myself. Like I said, the rest is tied up in my brothers' joke shop. I could ask Fred and George for a loan…" He thought about that for a moment, and then patted her bum with a gentle hand. "We'll just go with 'Mione to Diagon Alley, stop by my brothers' store, and then we can head to Gringotts with her and get her to exchange our combined Galleons for… whatever money it is Muggles use. Farthings and sixpence, I think my dad called 'em. I think we should definitely have enough together, if I can convince Fred and George to match your hand."

"You rely an awful lot on Granger, you know," she pointed out.

"He always has," Gryffindor's Princess chimed in, as she entered the room, exiting her private suite. Her hair, Pansy noticed, was nicely mussed and she was positively beaming with happiness. "Harry, too. After seven years, I'm used to it." She crossed over to the loo, pushing the door open, but pausing in the entrance to look back at them. "I'm sorry for the eavesdropping, but I couldn't help but overhear your conversation – at least, the bit about needing Muggle money." She stared at them both with a deep, assessing gaze. "You know I'll do what I can for you, Ron. I just hope that you've carefully considered whatever decision you've just made. It's much too easy to lose your head in this game, I've noticed."

She suspects, Pansy thought, as the Head Girl turned away, leaving them to their conversation while she headed into the women's.

That witch was much too quick on the uptake for Pansy's comfort. Of course, it didn't take a genius to figure out her and Ron's secret strategy, either, as there could only be a few logical reasons that a couple would need Muggle money in such large sums and so quickly, and most of them had to do with "disgraceful, illicit activities," as her mother had deemed unchaperoned dates, sex and pregnancy before marriage, divorce, and elopement.

The woman was living in the Dark Ages, seriously.

"So, what do you think?" her partner asked, bouncing her on his knee once to pull her attention back to the present and the topic at hand. "It's all figured. 'Mione's going to help us. We can do this, Pans."

She met his earnest gaze… and saw her future waiting for her inside a pair of enchanting baby blues.

"Can I wear a purple dress for the ceremony?"

His white grin was brilliant across his freckled, warm face. "And matching knickers, if you want. Of course, you could wear no knickers, and I'd be equally as happy."

She playfully swatted his arm, and then threw herself into his embrace again, hugging him tight. "We're really doing all of this, aren't we? I can't believe it. It seems almost-"

"Unreal?" he finished for her, snuggling her closer. "I know the feeling. But, it's almost fated, too, you know?"

Pansy nodded, pulling back and meeting his eyes once more… and falling into them all over again. "Feels like that to me, too. Fated."

Their stares met, sparked, and something deep inside her soul trembled. It felt much as it had when he'd used her True Wizarding Name – frightening, followed by the peace of total surrender. I really love you, she thought, tearing up.

Gods help her she was turning into a Slytherpuff, like Davis!

Ron's stomach rumbled again, breaking the moment. They both laughed.

"Still hungry?" she asked, with a mocking grin.

He pinched her bum and leered at her. "Always. And after some food, I might just show you again."

Disentangling, they stood up and headed back to the breakfast table, grabbing some treats to go. Granger came out of the loo and with a wave and a wish of 'good luck' she headed back into her private suite. They followed her lead, heading towards their own room.

As Pansy sipped from a second mug of tea, getting in a solid shot of caffeine to help keep her awake a while longer, she looked over at Draco's door. Clearly, whatever had been bothering her ex had been put aside, as Granger had looked positively radiant, indicating things were going well between the witch and her partner.

Disaster averted, she thought… just as it had been in her case.

Briefly, her eyes passed over the remaining closed doors and she wondered what trials the other couples were going through in this game. How many of them were actually having sex now? How many secrets had been divulged? Had any of them found unexpected love, as she and Ron had? She knew Davis, Daph, and Theo –that last was a total surprise– had breached that wall, but what of Blaise with the She-Weasel, and was Draco really in love with Gryffindor's Princess?

She wondered who the last couple to forfeit would be… not that she cared anymore about the game. She was only here until it ended, and then she would be free of it. It would forever remain a wonderful memory for her, though, representing the official beginning of her adult life.

A new life…

Her fingers caressed over her lower belly again. Was she pregnant yet? Was Ron's baby soon to grow within her? If so, she would carry that precious cargo under her heart until it came into this world on its own, and then, she vowed, she would shower it with the type of love that her parents had never shown her.

Ron held the door for her as she strode past him, his eyes zeroed in on her belly, too.

"We'll make it happen," he promised her with a kiss to the top of her head. "Today, tomorrow, this week… It'll happen, Pans." He shut the door behind them, and put his pastries down on a table he conjured with a thought. He then took her mug from her hand, placing it down, and drew her into his arms once more. "You're both going to be mine from this day forward, and I'll love you both my whole life, and no one will ever hurt either of you. I swear it."

Pansy clung tightly to her lover, and for the first time in her life she let herself believe in a man's promises.

TO BE CONTINUED…

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

"I am ruddy Hank Marvin." = Usually just said, "I am Hank Marvin." I threw the "ruddy" in there because it's… well, Ron speaking. Slang for "I am starving." I have only ever heard this said once in my life. Funny ol' phrase, innit?

Farthings and sixpence = Old British coinage, no longer in production. Demonstrates that Arthur Weasley knows something of Muggle money, but isn't with the times, as they say.

1st Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Only Girl" by Rihanna. Lyrics are as follows…

I want you to love me, like I'm a hot ride.
Be thinking of me, doing what you like.
So, boy, forget about the world, 'cause it's gonna be me and you tonight.
I'm gonna make your beg for it,
then I'm 'a make you swallow your pride.

Want you to make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world.
Like I'm the only one that you'll ever love.
Like I'm the only one who knows your heart.
Only girl in the world...
Like I'm the only one that's in command.
'Cause I'm the only one who understands how to make you feel like a man, yeah.

Want you to make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world.
Like I'm the only one that you'll ever love.
Like I'm the only one who knows your heart.
Only one...

Want you to take it like a thief in the night.
Hold me like a pillow, make me feel right.
Baby, I'll tell you all my secrets that I'm keepin', you can come inside.
And when you enter, you ain't leavin'.
Be my prisoner for the night.

Take me for a ride, ride.
Oh, baby, take me high, high.
Let me make you rise, rise.
Oh, make it last all night, night.
Take me for a ride, ride.
Oh, baby, take me high, high.
Let me make you rise, rise.
Make it last all night.

2nd Musical Selection for this Chapter: "According to You" by Orianthi. Lyrics are as follows…

According to you I'm stupid, I'm useless,
I can't do anything right.
According to you I'm difficult, hard to please,
forever changing my mind.
I'm a mess in a dress.
Can't show up on time
even if it would save my life.
According to you.
According to you…

But according to him I'm beautiful, incredible!
He can't get me out of his head.
According to him I'm funny, irresistible!
Everything he ever wanted.
Everything is opposite.
I don't feel like stopping it.
So, baby, tell me what I got to lose.
He's into me for everything I'm not.
According to you…

According to you I'm boring, I'm moody,
and you can't take me any place.
According to you I suck at telling jokes,
'cause I always give it away.
I'm the girl with the worst attention span,
You're the one who puts up with that.

According to you.
According to you…

But according to him I'm beautiful, incredible!
He can't get me out of his head.
According to him I'm funny, irresistible!
Everything he ever wanted.
Everything is opposite.
I don't feel like stopping it.
So, baby, tell me what I got to lose,
He's into me for everything I'm not.
According to you…

I need to feel appreciated.
Like I'm not hated. Oh, no.
Why can't you see me through his eyes?
It's too bad, you're making me dizzy.

But according to me you're stupid, you're useless,
you can't do anything right.

But according to him I'm beautiful, incredible!
He can't get me out of his head.
According to him I'm funny, irresistible!
Everything he ever wanted.
Everything is opposite.
I don't feel like stopping it.
Baby, tell me what I got to lose.
He's into me for everything I'm not.
According to you, you…
According to you, you…

According to you I'm stupid, I'm useless.
I can't do anything right.