Hermione couldn't stop thinking about Pansy and it was ruining everything.
She couldn't concentrate on any books.
Couldn't meditate while knitting.
Her Sunday passed in distress, not aided by her huge hangover, nor Ginny's frantic afternoon Floo call.
"You snogged Dean? Harry told me he saw!"
"Ugh, I know. It was a drunken mistake, Ginny."
Hermione nursed a persistent headache that seemingly couldn't be cured by the usual potions- probably due to Fudlops- and tried to act as nonchalant as possible, even though Ginny wouldn't have it.
After a half hour of badgering, Hermione hung up the call in an ill temper.
The week didn't improve much.
She burned herself while making an omelette for supper. She trod on poor Crookshanks' tail when leaving the loo. She knocked a glass of wine over onto her favourite and only ottoman. Extra disappointing considering it had been the first piece of furniture she'd bought for her new flat when she'd moved out of her parents'.
Worst of all, she was distracted at work.
She'd just proudly started as Junior Assistant to the Minister.
And yes, while the position did seem drab at first, considering Percy Weasley had once held it, Minister Shacklebolt had assured Hermione that her bright mind would be put to excellent use.
Hermione was reassured considering Shacklebolt was proving to be a much more competent Minister in his brief stay than Cornelius had been throughout his entire run.
Hermione got to shake hands with important people, read important documents and weigh in during important meetings.
Her ideas were fresh, her organisation meticulous and she did not shy away from telling anyone how to do their work better, despite being in an entry-level position.
She was perfect at her job.
Or at least, usually she was.
"Granger, have you reviewed the files on the Kneasel-testing yet?"
"Yes, yes, almost finished! I just need to revise and make sure I haven't missed anything."
Shacklebolt frowned.
"Usually you triple check faster than that. Can I assume it'll be ready for lunch? Bear in mind we'll be having tea with Gustav Platz right before, to discuss the agreements with the German Government."
Hermione had completely forgotten.
"Of course!" She answered, trying to keep her voice from shrilling while setting her gears at double time.
At the end of her long days, Hermione would go to bed each night and memories of Pansy's lips, Pansy's long nails and Pansy's smoky eyes would float across her mind.
Hermione would slip a hand between her legs, tilting her head back into her pillow.
It wasn't something she was much accustomed to- she wouldn't call herself someone who had a particularly high sex drive- but as she played with her clit and inserted a finger and then two, she understood that the thought of rocking down in Pansy's lap was enough to make masturbation a regular activity.
Because she had, in fact, almost come in Pansy's lap.
It didn't take a leap of the imagination to replay that night, while Pansy moaned and teased Hermione's breasts. What if she'd just come then and there? Would Pansy have told her she was bad then? A very bad girl, even?
What would it take to make Pansy come as well?
Hermione clenched her eyes shut and was miserable.
She didn't want to be thinking about Pansy.
They'd been severely addled by the drugs, clearly. Pansy probably more so than Hermione, because why else would she dare Hermione to kiss her?
It was a stupid game. A game Hermione regretted playing, especially because now it was all she could think about and she hated it.
She hated Pansy.
Didn't she?
Since when had Hermione been interested in women, anyway?
Hermione had always been firmly heterosexual. Or so she thought.
Though kissing Pansy had been so different from kissing Ron.
Ron was a very romantic kisser. Slow, often tentative and willing to move his lips around in the same three patterns over and over again.
Pansy was more firm. Hermione put her tongue in Pansy's mouth because Pansy let her. Pansy took control with ease, pushing Hermione's mouth around, demanding compliance. And then, when Hermione was sufficiently cowed, Pansy would allow her the reins again.
It was passionate and kept Hermione on her toes.
Hermione buried her head in her hands.
When the weekend arrived, Hermione decided that she needed a change of scenery- anything to get her mind off of that night.
She treated herself to a solo date at Flourish and Blotts.
She wanted to pick up some books on German magical practices out of curiosity, and perhaps a knitting book with a new pattern and maybe even one of those romance books she guiltily enjoyed. And perhaps a latte after, one of those expensive concoctions with three cardboard straws that each made the coffee taste different.
Thinking about books and fancy drinks bolstered her mood and so she set off through the Floo, feeling better than she had all week.
The smell of the bookstore was familiar yet fresh. Flourish & Blotts had undergone renovations since the war and, with government funding, had been able to rebuild bigger and better.
Hermione spent a long time perusing the shelves. She found two books on German magical advancements, one on politics and spent a good thirty minutes deciding on which knitting book to purchase before finally taking all three
Finally, her basket full, she headed off to the cash register, still glancing around in case something caught her eye.
A cover with a long haired, topless man stood on a large display at the front of the romance aisle.
Hermione glanced around to make sure no one was looking before her eyes fell back to the cover.
The man held a woman in red robes, that barely managed to cover her shapely form, against his chest and pointed an abnormally large wand to the sky. A tornado spun out of the tip and lightning sliced the clouds.
A Long and Hard Quest by Ursula Madenschirft.
These books were always so ridiculous.
But maybe this was exactly what Hermione needed to move on from thoughts of Pansy.
She strolled as casually as she could down the aisle and set her basket down, perusing the spines.
Her eyes roved over book titles that were more ridiculous than the last, but that also sparked questions.
How Long and Hard was the Quest exactly?
As her eyes moved along the shelves she spotted someone on the other side of the aisle over the tops of the books.
Hermione's heart stopped.
Short black hair.
Pouty, burgundy lips.
A smart black blazer.
Hermione spun around, resisting the urge to hyperventilate.
What was Pansy doing here?
Her hands shook as she quietly tried to place the book she held back on the shelf.
She just stood there for a long minute, frozen like a deer in headlights.
And then a jolt to her brain jump-started her thoughts.
Pansy wasn't stupid. She'd done well at school- had been a Prefect after all, which meant Pansy had some of the highest marks in her house. Why wouldn't Pansy be in a bookstore?
Small world, Hermione thought bitterly.
Hermione had to get out of there.
She took a quiet tiptoe to the left and a loud voice made her shoulders tense and her hair stand on end.
"Wow, Granger. I didn't peg you for the Romance rag type. Sort of beneath you, isn't it?"
Hermione slowly raised her eyes and there was Pansy Parkinson, blocking Hermione's escape from the aisle with a foot in front of Hermione's basket.
"You're here too, you know!" Hermione protested defensively, suddenly unable to move her feet.
Had Pansy cast some kind of Petrificus?
"Keen observation. Are you stalking me, by any chance?"
Hermione spluttered.
"What? Me! Stalking you? Of course not, why on earth would I do that? Preposterous!"
"That's an awfully long 'no'. Almost the denial of a guilty conscience one could say."
Pansy took one step down the aisle, Hermione reflexively took a step back, realising the only thing that had kept her frozen on the spot was her own loss of nerve.
She couldn't think properly, couldn't move properly. Everything was on autopilot.
"Don't make fun of me!" Hermione blurted out, scrambling for something to say to gain the upper hand, "You came here to look at romance novels just as I did!"
Pansy rolled her eyes and continued her prowl towards Hermione, while Hermione awkwardly stepped backwards, trying not to trip over her own feet.
"Yes, but I'm not Saint Granger. Good girl, Golden girl, Smartest Witch of Her Age, I-only-read-do-gooder-essays Granger."
"Cut it out! I thought I'd proven to you more than enough that that isn't me!"
Hermione's back hit the wall. There was nowhere else to go.
A small part of her mind insisted that if she just shoved past Pansy and snagged her basket, what was Pansy going to do? Run after her? Restrain her by force in a public bookstore?
But Hermione couldn't move.
Or was it that she didn't want to?
"Not quite enough."
Pansy was standing right in front of Hermione.
She pushed her face right up to hers and Hermione could smell faint scents of smoke and cherry.
Pansy raised her hand, placing it on Hermione's throat. Hermione felt her black nails dig in. She couldn't breathe. Pansy's face was so close.
There was a moment when their eyes locked and time stopped. Everything was quiet. Except the sound of Hermione's heartbeat, assuring her that she was alive and this was all very real and actually happening.
And then, Pansy released her.
"Enjoy your bawdy books, Granger," she said smoothly.
She turned to walk away.
Something snapped in Hermione's brain.
Her hand shot out, grabbing Pansy's wrist.
Pansy turned, looking caught off-guard.
"What else do I need to do?" Hermione asked.
"For what?" Pansy asked sharply.
"To prove I'm not a goody."
Her voice was impossibly breathy.
Pansy's lips were parted and her eyes widened for a quick second, before she sneered.
"There's nothing you can do, Granger. The game is over. You lost and that's th-"
Pansy gasped as Hermione yanked on her arm, pulling her in.
Hermione slammed her mouth into Pansy's, her tongue hungrily lapping at her lips.
Pansy groaned, opening her mouth immediately and letting Hermione's tongue punch through.
Pansy shoved her knee between Hermione's legs and pushed her hard against the wall with her body.
Hermione whined loudly and bucked her hips towards Pansy's.
A hand returned to Hermione's throat and nails scraped the flesh there.
"Don't make a sound," Pansy ordered in a harsh whisper.
Hermione nodded. She was panting hard.
Pansy's smile didn't reach her eyes, but she dipped back in to kiss Hermione once more, her hand now firmly on Hermione's jaw.
It felt so good. So explosive.
All Hermione could think about was how she wanted more. More, more, more.
If she wasted a moment to question what was happening, it might stop and never happen again-
Hermione tugged at Pansy's bottom lip with her teeth and pulled. Pansy's intake of breath sent shivers down Hermione's back.
A hand squeezed Hermione's breast and she gasped loudly.
"What did I say about being quiet? Or do you want the entire bookstore to peek in?" Pansy warned, in a low menace.
Hermione clenched her teeth shut.
Pansy's hand moved down, over Hermione's sweater and came to rest on her skirt.
"You really want to prove that you're naughty, Granger?"
Hermione nodded quickly.
Pansy licked her lips, her lipstick still impeccable despite the messy snogging.
Her hand snuck under the hem of Hermione's skirt, and her nails trailed up bare thigh.
Hermione drew a ragged breath, tilting her head upwards and shutting her eyes.
Her whole body tingled.
Pansy leaned in, her hot breath steaming against Hermione's neck.
"Tell me Granger, do you know what bad girls do?"
"N-no…" Hermione whispered distractedly, trembling in anticipation as she felt the nails tickle further up her inner thigh.
"They let me touch their pussy," Pansy hissed.
Two fingers pushed down against Hermione's knickers, rubbing the fabric between her lips. Hermione was suddenly very aware of how wet she was.
"Oh dear, it seems you've made quite the mess," Pansy whispered, though she seemed pleased.
Hermione arched her back.
"Do you want me to keep touching you here, Granger?"
"Y-es…" Hermione stammered.
"Like this?"
Pansy's fingers pushed down in circles, rubbing Hermione's wet knickers between her lips. Hermione stifled a moan as best she could.
"Answer me. You want this?"
"Please," Hermione whined softly.
Pansy wasn't smiling anymore. Instead, she was looking at Hermione intently, with a startling focus.
"Oh, you are quite bad, aren't you?" Pansy hissed and ran her thumb over Hermione's clit.
Hermione cried out.
Pansy muffled her by kissing her roughly with tongue. Hermione groaned, reaching to clutch Pansy's blazer lapels as two fingers swirled her knickers around and around her clit.
Her hips rocked as a pressure began to build in her abdomen.
Yes, yesss, right there, right there, oh please, please, I need-
Very suddenly, Pansy was gone.
Hermione had just enough time to blink dazedly as her skirt fluttered down when someone appeared at the end of the aisle.
"Hullo there, anything I can help you with?" A friendly old gentleman asked them.
Pansy had a book open and was convincingly pretending to peruse it. Hermione straightened, trying hard not to look like she'd just been seconds away from coming in a bookstore.
Pansy closed the book with a snap.
"Thank you, Mr. Blotts, but I believe I've seen enough for today. No doubt, I'll be back next week, when Deadly Curses and Charms III comes out."
"Ah yes, we're expecting that one to make a big splash, but I'll put one aside for you," he answered and winked.
"Thanks," Pansy answered and shoved her book into Hermione's hands.
"I should be off. Until next time."
Pansy directed the comment at Mr. Blotts though Hermione could have sworn Pansy had thrown her a brief look over her shoulder.
Hermione was still trying to gather her composure when Mr. Blotts addressed her.
"Ah, Miss Granger! And what about you, find anything you like?"
"Uh, um, y-yes! Yes, I did actually-" Hermione felt her face heat up, "I'm just heading to checkout now actually, just found another book to add to the stack-"
She looked down and was mortified.
Pansy had given her a copy of A Long and Hard Quest.
Hermione wanted to die of embarrassment.
She paid for her books and after that, bought herself a coffee with extra whipped cream.
The rest of her day, she felt dazed and was only too glad to be back in the comfort and stability of her home.
She put on the kettle, made herself a quick cheese and tomato sandwich, and settled onto her ottoman to sift through her purchases.
She rolled her eyes as she pulled out A Long and Hard Quest.
How ridiculous.
Though it was bound to be entertaining. And who knows? Perhaps the spiciness of it all would be worth it.
Afterall, she did feel like she needed…release.
Especially after…well, everything.
Hermione's neck was warm just thinking about it.
She didn't know what came over her. And the way Pansy…handled her was…was…
Whatever it was, Hermione hadn't wanted it to stop.
But it had to.
They didn't like each other and they never had. This was just some weird… coincidence of circumstances. Pansy probably had a long line of people who wanted to shag her, anyway. Hermione was just a plaything of a moment.
This was all some sort of…game of dominance. Pansy didn't like Hermione- she just liked to humiliate her. Make her beg. Make her-
Hermione shook her head.
Well, enough was enough.
She likely wouldn't be running into Pansy again and Hermione would just have to make sure she bought her books in the morning when the shop was emptiest.
And for now, she had A Long and Hard Quest to keep her occupied.
She opened the book and a piece of parchment fluttered out.
Hermione picked it up. There was writing on it.
Meet me at the club tonight.
Midnight.
Hermione spat out a chunk of her sandwich.