Determined not to repeat last weekend, Pansy took a Dreamless Sleep and Sober Up Potion, devoutly repeating her nightly routine of removing her makeup and brushing her hair before collapsing into bed.
Only hours later she awoke, her wand buzzing at her side. Staring at the gauzy fabric that framed her four poster as Stewart licked at her hand, Pansy decided very determinedly that she would not think about the night before. Not before a run and tea and possibly requesting a compassionate obliviation from Madam Pomfrey.
Neville wouldn't be in his greenhouse this morning, she thought, not if he had spent the night with Hufflepuff and picture perfect war victim Hannah Abbott, blonde and curvaceous and glowing with a disgusting innocence. Her opposite in every way.
Not that she wanted him anyway. It was Longbottom, she reminded herself, longing for the days when his name brought her simple and apathetic distaste.
It hit her like a dull, aching pain when her guess was confirmed, the greenhouse windows showing only greenery as she ran past. Pansy ran harder, feet pushing into the cold, packed dirt. She thought of every calorie in the wine she had overindulged in the night before. She let herself think about Neville, and Potter, and every part of the night before that had made her insides light on fire, and she made it all fuel.
She couldn't have him, the freezing morning air hitting her face hard reminded her. Even if Neville wasn't with anyone at the moment, he would be. He was for the good girls, the Weasleys and Abbotts and Lovegoods of the world. He had refused her once, and would do so again. He didn't want her.
Her abdomen twisted, cramping from the run, but Pansy smiled to herself. Pain was something she knew, something familiar in this strange new life.
Passing her garden, where Stewart barked at her to come home and get back in bed with him, she kept running, breathing hard, turning towards the quidditch pitch. An extra lap, she decided, and some core work. She was well overdue. What would her mother have said if she saw the way her tighter dresses were fitting since arriving at Hogwarts?
As she came upon the pitch, she saw a dark figure running what she recognized as seeker drills. She had only seen one man fly as dangerously as Draco, and she knew immediately that she had stumbled upon Harry Potter.
In that moment, Pansy made a decision. She had been out of control, she realized, believing she was unable to keep away from Neville fucking Longbottom. But of course she could. She had done harder things. She would need a distraction though, an alternative, and it had been provided so conveniently for her. Pansy Parkinson would sleep with Harry Potter.
Pleased with the feeling of control that seeped into her skin, she stopped running, opting to stretch and catch her breath as she watched him notice her and land, showing off a bit on the way. She grinned, hiding it behind a downward dog she knew positioned her arse nicely before lowering into a wide hip-opener, reaching to her toes. Curves she might lack, but she had her strengths.
"You're lucky I landed, I think you could distract a man to his death, stretching like that."
Pansy feigned a casual realization that he had even arrived in her vicinity. "Potter. What are you doing out so early?"
He tossed his broom aside, plopping down onto the grass to do his own (comparatively pathetic) stretches. "I like to get my practice in when I know the kids won't show up. Saturday mornings are usually a pretty safe bet."
Moving into an upward dog that showed off what little chest she did have, she murmured her agreement. "It is fairly deserted out here before eight or so." She flipped back to downward dog, moving smoothly into an impressively low pigeon pose.
Harry grinned at her, his eyes conveying that he was both fully aware and in support of her current strategy. "Oh, to be young and able to simply sleep off a hangover." He had given up his exercises, leaning back on his hands and watching her.
She chastised his shamelessness with the slightest quirk of her lips. "I always preferred to sweat it out, anyway."
"It suits you."
"Are you flirting with me, Harry Potter?"
"I hope so" he said, his face betraying the arrogance hidden behind the coy response. "Is it working?"
Pansy bit back a laugh. "A lady never tells."
"Ah," he sighed facetiously, "I wouldn't know- I've never been with a proper lady, with a title and everything- before."
Pansy stopped stretching, standing and reaching out a hand to him. He pulled her up, helped by his noticeably strong quads. He stood close to her, a light sheen of cool sweat visible on his brow, the irresistible, familiar smell of man wafting towards her. She leaned close, not touching him, her eyes on his lips before flipping them convincingly up to his eyes, staring at her from behind those thick lenses. "Would you like to change that?" His grin answered as convincingly as any words could have.
The dark-haired former enemies walked up the hill, Harry carrying his broom in his left hand, letting his right drift towards Pansy, stealing brushes against her bare thigh. Pansy ignored it but smiled, already satisfied with her decision.
A distant shouting caught their attention, the two of them subconsciously stepping aside to put space between them as Hagrid came bumbling towards them. "'Arry!" he called. Pansy stepped back, feeling immediately unnecessary and inappropriate, just as Harry stepped forward towards his friend.
"Is everything ok, Hagrid?"
Hagrid shook his huge head and mane of hair. "It's the unicorns, 'Arry. It's gotten worse."
"What's gotten worse?" Pansy heard herself before she was aware she had spoken, her mind flashing to the unicorn she had seen on the edge of the forest.
Hagrid seemed to consider Pansy for a second before including her. "Somethin's been making em sick, Professor, since the summer."
Harry turned to her, able to explain more clearly. "A few of them showed up towards the edge of the forest, which is pretty rare. We haven't really been able to get close to them, honestly, but Hagrid and Luna have both seen them limping a bit."
"They're awful weak. Haven't seen them like this since Quirrell." Hagrid shuddered. Pansy opted not to ask what the hell that meant- for now.
"I'm sorry, Hagrid, but am I missing something? What can Potter do about it, that you and Lovegood can't?"
Hagrid grinned dotingly at the man beside her, who flushed. "Got a way with the forest, he does. Always has. Only wizard Aragog ever liked, 'sides myself."
"Who's Ara-"
"I'll tell you later." Harry interrupted before Hagrid could answer her.
"Right…well I suppose I should let you go deal with that then." She addressed Harry, giving him a flat look that showed neither disappointment nor relief at the interruption in their plans.
…
Pansy fully embraced her Saturday at home. She worked a bit in the garden, Stewart basking in the sun and her nearness. Then she took a long bath, clearing her mind with lavender and eucalyptus, slowly sipping her tea with lemon. Finally wrapped up in a pair of soft, stretchy slacks and a slightly too big cashmere sweater, she set up across the rug on her living room floor to grade papers and work on next week's lesson plans.
She was surprised at how relaxing the work was, reading over notes and referring back to her textbooks. She had nowhere else to be, she realized, nothing else she needed to do. Stewart was thrilled to have her home, staying curled at her side or nearby, on the back of the sofa or stretched across the chaise.
Around two, the house elf Wendy popped into her living room, making Pansy jump and curse. "Miss was not at breakfast or lunch, and Wendy is getting worried."
"I'm fine, Wendy, thank-"
"Wendy brings miss lunch, right away-" the elf was gone as quickly as she had appeared.
Not ten minutes later a waldorf chicken salad and seltzer water was placed in front of her on a lovely tray, a tiny lemon bar placed to the side like a last minute addition.
"Miss must eat!"
Pansy smiled kindly at the elf. Her mother had always taught her to be polite to servants. They had too much access to your food not to be. Pansy kind of liked this one anyway. She was a cute thing, dressed nicely in a skirt and what appeared to be the tiniest heels Pansy had ever seen. "Thank you Wendy. This looks lovely."
With a nod and a crack, the girl was gone.
Wendy (and Potter) were almost entirely to blame for her additional half an inch on her hips, but damn if the elf didn't know what she liked. Pansy even ate the lemon bar, rolling the sweet flavor over her tongue and licking the powdered sugar off of her fingers indulgently.
The early autumn sun had set and Pansy was taking her tray to the kitchen sink and setting the kettle on for another pot of tea, pleased to see Wendy (probably) had placed a full bowl of lemons on her counter and cutting one into delicate slices when Circe hissed at her from over the stovetop. "Handssssome boy is here, missssss"
Pansy rolled her eyes. "I'm going to teach you names someday."
"Circe will know if the boysss are not handsssome."
"I bet you will."
"Should I let thissss one innnnn?"
"I'll answer it, thank you."
Pansy washed the lemon off of her hands and opened the front door, unsurprised to see Potter standing there, looking clean and comfortable in his weekend uniform of denims and a knit jumper.
"Your snake doesn't like me."
"Oh trust me, she does." She waved him in through the doorway. As he entered, he briefly set his hand on her waist, placing a lingering kiss to her cheek, temptingly close to her mouth, just as he had done last night. "She's just very protective."
"Lucky you," Potter was playful, but he ran a hair through his hair, visibly tired. "I've got a portrait of a milkmaid that seems to let anyone in if they ask nicely."
Pansy closed the door and gestured to the tea kettle, a question that he answered with a grateful nod. "Good thing no one's ever tried to kill you, then. Do you take lemon?"
Harry grimaced. "Do you have cream?" He sat on one of the stools, setting his elbows on the counter in front of him.
Pansy grimaced in response, looking around her tiny kitchen from her place behind the counter across from him. "I have…wine and dark chocolate and lemons."
"Bleak, Parkinson."
"I can ask Wendy for some cream."
"Made friends, have you?"
Pansy shrugged, noncommittal. "I like her shoes."
"I get the sense that's a high compliment from you."
She looked at him very seriously. "It is."
"I'll try it your way then," he gestured to her cup of tea, black with a thin lemon slice floating at the top.
Pansy fixed him a cup.
"So should I start with the unicorns, Aragog, or your magical connection with the forbidden forest?"
"I've always liked forbidden things, what can I say?" He winked at her.
"You're impossible."
"I do my best." He sipped the tea tentatively. "This is disgusting."
She laughed, pointing her wand at it to sweeten the tea magically. "Try it now."
Harry didn't look trusting, but tried it anyway, tilting his head in thought. "Tolerable." He took a big drink, setting down his cup on the counter. She frowned, setting a saucer under it. "Such a lady," he joked.
Despite herself, she blushed, the reference to this morning bringing back memories of his pheremonal appeal.
"Unicorns first, Potter."
"Yes ma'am" he said, playfully.
She raised a single eyebrow. "Save that for later."
Both of his eyebrows raised, his eyes wide in surprise and, if she was not mistaken (though it had been awhile) arousal. She ignored his reaction entirely (always the best choice when one threw out a little tease like that).
"Right." He fidgeted with his glasses, taking them off and cleaning them with a silent charm. "So Hagrid told you, they're limping."
"And getting close to the border of the forest, yes."
Harry shrugged. "We don't know why. And it's getting worse. Luna and Hagrid are both worried."
"So what changed this morning?"
"Another one showed up at the edge of the forest last night. Apparently a couple students out past curfew saw it and told Luna."
Pansy was dubious. "They weren't afraid of getting in trouble for being out?"
"Luna doesn't believe in points," Harry explained gently.
Pansy made sure he saw her roll her eyes dramatically. "Of course she doesn't."
"So they told her they saw it and she immediately went out, not thinking it would still be there, but just in case."
"And it was still there."
Harry's concern showed all over his face, a short lifetime of worry suddenly making him look much older than he was. "Exactly. He couldn't walk, was nursing a back leg, and clearly wasn't eating enough."
"Did he let Lovegood get close?"
A shrug. "They've always let Luna get closer than most, but he wouldn't let her touch him. He spooked and ran off pretty quickly. She was upset she couldn't get close enough to look at his eyes and nostrils, apparently you can tell a lot about a unicorn's health from examining those." Harry looked genuinely at a loss.
Pansy nodded, frowning her own concern. "And the tail," she added, surprising both of them with her subconscious addition. She cleared her throat, embarrassed by the Granger-like moment of excessive swottiness. "So, why do you look like you just got run over by the Knight bus?"
Harry grinned, but it looked like it wore out his mouth to do so. "We spent most of the day setting up a few…well, Luna refuses to call them traps, but we're hoping a unicorn wanders into one and will magically be unable to get out.
Pansy immediately felt apprehensive. "That will freak them out, especially if they can't see what's happening. That's a bad idea-"
Harry looked surprised by her reaction. Understandably, as she was slightly shocked herself. He reached out a hand and set it on hers, offering a tentative kind of comfort, as if he was worried comforting her might cause an explosion. "It's the best we could come up with- for now. If one comes into the trap, an alarm goes off in Hagrid's hut, Luna's apartment, and the greenhouse." Her confusion must have been evident in her expression. "Neville practically lives in there, so he might be the closest to it, depending on what time of day."
"I'm closer." Pansy apparently had no filter today. Harry looked as taken aback as she felt. "Put an alarm in my rooms. I'm as close as Hagrid is, and on the other side of the lake. If it's over here I can get there faster than anyone else."
"...are you sure?"
Regaining her usual demeanor, Pansy immediately challenged him. "Unless you think they don't trust me to-"
"I do." His hand had flipped hers over, tracing over the lines on her palm, his fingers warm and gentle. "I trust you. Hagrid does too. That's enough for Luna and Neville, I think." The last part was quieter than the rest, and it was a little crack in her new resolve not to think about Neville Longbottom.
She wrapped her hand around Harry's. "Thank you."
They stayed like that for awhile, staring at each other, eyes communicating the wild strangeness of the situation, two enemies holding hands.
"Potter."
Harry's face immediately became flirtatious. "Parkinson."
She smiled wryly at him. "You look like shit. You're so exhausted you can barely sit up straight, why did you even come over?"
He exhaled a laugh, pulling his hand away and looking down, away from her. "I didn't want to miss my chance."
Pansy grinned. She never would have told a soul, but she thought that Harry Potter was being rather cute.
"Go," she ordered, "lay down on the couch."
His eyes grew hopeful again, but the dark circles underneath them betrayed his body's real needs. Pansy had been married, after all, she knew you could want someone physically and be too tired to act on it.
He did as he was told, Pansy conjuring a pillow and cream colored soft knit blanket from a chest in her bedroom. She lay it over him, watching him already unable to keep his eyes open. Bending down, she mimicked the teasing kiss he had given her, just brushing the corner of his mouth- a promise of something to come.
"Good boy," she whispered, taking his glasses off and setting them on the coffee table. Watching his shiver in response, she grinned.
Pansy continued working, occasionally looking over at Harry, and Stewart, who had made himself comfortable tucked into Harry's chest. Eventually, she too was having trouble keeping her eyes open. She looked at the man, suddenly so small and innocent looking- not at all a man who had killed a dark lord or come back from the dead or said naughty things to her through foggy glasses. Draco had always devolved into a childlike version of himself too, she remembered, his eyelashes resting against his sharp cheekbones, his lower lip pouted open like the spoiled child he had once been.
The other side of the castle suddenly felt very far away. So Pansy prepared for bed making as little noise as possible, changed into her short pajamas and ushered Stewart outside before settling him down for the night. Then she used her wand and gently floated Harry Potter into her bed, settling in beside him under the covers, a safe distance between them.
…