5. The Trousseau

Having a conscience was most annoying. Pansy had never before suffered from that particular affliction, but after spending so much more time around Gryffindors it seemed to be catching. Not that either Draco or Hermione had held the unfortunate end of their betrothal ball against her. Draco knew parent-child dances were tradition, and Hermione admitted she had never told Pansy about her parents. But still, there was her own conscience to battle.

Hermione had dragged her once again into Muggle London for a shopping spree. Pansy hardly listened to Hermione's excited babbling, but reflected instead that, perhaps, it was not so much the conscience as it was the accompanying guilt that made life more difficult. She could not forget Hermione's anguished face and the pain she had unwittingly caused at the ball. Which was, of course, the only reason she had not been able to refuse spending the afternoon with Hermione.

Pansy only noticed they had entered a lingerie shop when Hermione stopped speaking and looked at her expectantly. She looked around uncomfortably.

"Lingerie?"

"Oh, come now, you're not prudish, are you?" Hermione turned around with a laugh. "I certainly never should have thought that of you. You keep surprising me, Pansy. I want to buy some new and sexy outfits to surprise Draco on the honeymoon. And who better to help me than you? Come along, let's browse and see what we can come up with."

And just like that, Pansy's guilt-softened heart turned to stone again. She could not allow this wedding to happen. She couldn't lose Draco. And she certainly wasn't going to find anything flattering to help that woman seduce her man.

"Of course," she said, her eyes gleaming dangerously.

The problem with lingerie, Pansy thought, was that it really did tend to be quite sexy and flattering, unless you went for granny pants and sports bras. Most of the colours were soft pastels which would look absolutely lovely on Hermione's dark body. Her mood had dropped to an all-time low and she started when Hermione popped up beside her with her arms full of delicate lace and shiny satin.

"I'll try these. Come along to the fitting room so you can give me your opinion. You are always so helpful, Pansy. You have such a good eye for fashion and colours." Hermione never noticed how Pansy's nostrils flared as she walked towards the back of the store.

Pansy sat down on a settee, arms crossed and face a studied blank, going over the many things she could say or do to undermine Hermione's confidence. The woman was very insecure about her body, it would be easy to make her unhappy and self-conscious about flaws that only existed in her own imagination. Pansy nodded to herself, just in time. The curtain to Hermione's cubicle fluttered and a hand firmly grabbed the edge.

"Ready?"

"Yes, of course," Pansy said, smiling to herself. Hips, she thought. Focus on the hips.

But whatever snide comment she had been prepared to make fell to dust in her mouth. Hermione stepped out from behind the curtain with an elegant twirl that showed off every curve and plane of her beautiful body, and Pansy had to bite the inside of her cheek, hard, to keep from any kind of reaction. The set itself wasn't even that sexy, cream satin with little pink and red roses. But Hermione's body was just… perfect. Pert breasts, soft curves, shapely legs and…

"Well," Hermione said, a little uncertain after a long silence. "What do you think?"

"Sweet," Pansy's mouth said before her brain could take control.

Hermione pouted. "Just sweet?"

Pansy coughed and shifted in her seat. "Well, I mean, it suits you. Very well. It's not very seductive, though." Surely at some point her brain would catch up with her mouth, right? Right.

Hermione smiled gratefully and disappeared behind the curtain again. "I think I know what you mean. Hold on a minute."

Pansy closed her eyes and sagged back, bumping her head against the wall repeatedly. "Merlin's balls, Pansy, this isn't the time. Draco. Think of Draco," she murmured to herself.

She had composed herself by the time the curtain moved again. But Hermione did not simply step out of the cubicle, as she had expected.

One leg, clad in thigh-high black stockings, peeped very seductively from behind the curtain, foot pointed and knee slightly bent.

Pansy felt her mouth go dry. She balled her hands into fists, her nails digging into the palms of her hands, but she couldn't stop her heart from beating faster. Was that a hint of suspenders? Pansy leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing. Oh yes. Suspenders. She had a thing for suspenders. Always had. Was swallowing supposed to be that difficult?

A hand came out from behind the curtain, slowly stroking the leg from foot to knee to…

Pansy stopped her thoughts right there and shook her head. This was wrong. This was all wrong. Think of Draco. Draco, she told herself firmly in her mind as her eyes ravished the shapely leg and Circe's tits, was that a seamed stocking? She licked her lips and pressed her fingernails even deeper into her palms. She was pretty sure she'd draw blood soon.

The curtain opened slowly to reveal Hermione in an emerald green satin corset with silver lace on the cups and swirling silver and diamante accents over the stomach. Thin, dark green suspenders held up the black stockings, the top lace of which, Pansy now noticed, also had silver accents in it, teasingly reflecting the light. The set was completed by dark green and silver lace knickers that would leave nothing at all to the imagination if worn without the white cotton underpants Hermione had kept on, as per store policy.

Pansy licked her lips again. Think of Draco. She shifted until she sat on her hands, her legs crossed and squeezed tightly together. Draco. She was getting uncomfortably hot. Remember Draco in his swimming trunks that summer? Seeing Hermione in Slytherin colours did something to her that she wasn't quite prepared to acknowledge. Draco, Draco Draco, Dra… Oh fuck.

"Is this better?" Hermione asked from what seemed like ten miles away. Her hands slid down her body as she studied herself in the mirror.

Pansy blinked. "Anyone would appreciate that," she said. Clearly her brain hadn't taken control of her tongue yet.

Hermione smiled, satisfied, and Pansy shifted slightly to relieve the growing itch between her legs.

"I'll definitely take this one, then." Hermione disappeared into her cubicle again and Pansy sagged forward, her head in her hands. She had to go. Yes, she had to leave, now. She stood up, determined, and was about to yell at Hermione that she had to run because she had an appointment she'd forgotten about, when that dratted woman beat her to it and poked her bushy head around the curtain.

"I'm having trouble getting that corset off. Could you help?"

She should have refused. She knew she should have refused but her brain had apparently lost control over her feet as well as her mouth, because she was moving towards Hermione's cubicle before she could stop herself.

The stockings were dangling off the edge of a small stool and the lace and satin scrap that aspired but quite failed to be a pair of knickers lay abandoned on the floor. Hermione turned her back towards Pansy.

"It's all those hooks, you see. I managed to close it up at the front and then shifted it around to get it on but now I can't undo them from the back," Hermione explained patiently.

Pansy stared at their reflected images in the mirror, then quickly focused her eyes on Hermione's back. Her fingers trembled slightly as they went up to sweep Hermione's hair over one shoulder. Hermione drew a quick breath.

Pansy swallowed and began to undo the first hook at the top. She focused on the expanse of back that was bared to her, one hook at a time, and tried not to look at Hermione in the mirror. But Hermione was everywhere. In front of her, mirrored on every side, her scent - those bloody roses and parchment and honey - enveloping her completely.

Her knuckles brushed Hermione's spine as her hands went lower and lower, and Hermione's skin erupted in goosebumps.

Pansy leaned closer and closer until her breath ghosted over Hermione's bare shoulders, causing more goosebumps, and then she finally reached the last hook. The corset sprang free, and only then Pansy realised how close they were standing. Her hands came to rest almost naturally on Hermione's hips. Her mouth was inches from an elegant shoulder and a most delicious-looking neck. Pansy opened her lips and licked them absently. What would that skin taste like? Then she caught Hermione's face in the mirror. She had closed her eyes, but she was biting her lower lip and swaying slightly towards Pansy. She held the corset up with one arm on her stomach, the other arm trying but failing to cover up hard nipples. And all this is Draco's.

Pansy shook her head and took a step back.

"All done," she said, her voice sounding sharp and almost angry to her own ears. She turned around quickly. "I'm afraid I can't stay. I forgot I have an appointment in fifteen minutes. I'll see you next week."

She didn't wait for a response. She all but ran out of the cubicle, grabbed her purse and coat, and then she was gone. She never saw the confused look on Hermione's face.

AN: Special thanks to Chiseplushie for betaing! Hope you all enjoy reading.