Denial of A Dalliance - Chapter 3

Summary: “This is the last time Potter! After this, we’ll go our separate ways and pretend none of this ever happened!” Pansy sneered.

Potter’s breath washed over her bare shoulder as he chuckled. His lips were inches from her neck, so close she could practically feel the heat emanating from them. His hands gliding down her ribs forced Pansy to bite her bottom lip lest she moan with excitement.

“Whatever you say Parkinson.” Potter murmured. Then his lips were upon her neck once more, and all hope of ending their trysts died right then and there.

Or

Five times Pansy Parkinson accidentally slept with Harry Potter.

And one time she meant to.

-

Chapter 3: Contradictions

-

She really tried to keep good on her word. Pansy really fucking tried. But the universe seemed to have it out for her, for some ungodly bloody reason.

It was so simple, her plan that is. After limping back to her dorm room tired and her pussy aching in such a way that made her giddy, Pansy had resolved herself to finally putting her foot down and ending things with Potter. From that night forward, she’d keep her head down and serve the remainder of her detention. After that, she’d go back to completely forgetting Potter even existed, perhaps even find her own boy toy within Slytherin House to keep her mind off Potter and his mind-blowing sexual prowess.

That had been her plan, at least.

Of course, Potter then had to just go and throw her entire bloody plan out the window.

“Excuse me?” She sputtered

Potter rolled his eyes and leaned further back against the stone railing. “I said you’ll be serving detention with someone else tonight. Something came up and Hermione had to change up the patrol schedule last minute. You’ll be meeting up with Dennis Creevey on the fourth floor in about…” He glanced at his watch. “Half an hour.”

“You’re joking, right? This has got to be some bloody joke because there’s absolutely no way you think I’d let you just dump me off onto Dennis fucking Creevey!” She hissed. 

“Contrary to popular belief, Pansy, but not everyone’s lives revolve around you. Mine included.” He snapped.

Pansy clenched her teeth in anger. How fucking dare he?! Some distant part of her mind argued that it was a good thing. After all, wouldn’t it be easier to ignore Potter if she weren’t stuck marching around the castle with him all night? A much bigger part, though, drowned out that tiny voice with indignant fury. Potter was the one who got her into this bloody mess and now he was just throwing her out like she was yesterday’s trash! Well he had another thing coming if he thought Pansy was just gonna sit there and allow herself to be treated like some two-knut slut he could discard of as he pleased.

“No.” She said through gritted teeth.

Potter gave her a confused look. “What?”

“I said no!” Pansy raged. Taking two steps forward, the brunette jabbed one manicured nail-tipped finger into Potter’s chest, celebrating momentarily when he winced in pain. “I don’t give a damn about Granger and her schedules. You’re the one who got me into this bloody mess, so you’ve got to deal with the consequences!”

“It’s just for a single night!” Potter argued, but Pansy was having none of that.

“Oh sure! Just like it was totally some random mishap that made Granger change the schedule and not you begging her to swap you and Creevey because you’re too much of a pussy to look a girl in the eye after you shag her!”

Potter’s face twisted up into fury, and for a brief moment, Pansy wondered if she’d gone too far. He took a step forward, and Pansy withdrew instantly, no longer feeling she had the upper hand as her anger cooled rapidly into icy dread.

“I don’t know what sort of misconceived notions you have about us Parkinson, but I assure you I couldn’t give a damn about what happened last night. You’re a good shag, I’ll give you that, but beyond that you’re barely an after thought in my day to day life.”

Pansy swallowed down the sudden welt of hurt in her throat. His words stung, but why? Why did they even faze her? They’ve said much worse things to each other over the years, so why now did she feel tears threaten to spill from her eyes just because Potter told her she meant nothing more to him than a half-decent fuck? It shouldn’t bother her! In fact, she should very well feel the same bloody way about him.

Pansy could feel a migraine building at the edge of her senses and decided to push away those circling thoughts. Instead, she raised her chin and met Potter’s glare with more confidence than she really felt.

“Then we’re on the same page!” She snarked. “Doesn’t mean I’m letting you ditch me. So just suck it up already and we can both move on with our lives!”

Potter threw his hands up in annoyance. “Fine! You want to serve you’re bloody detention with me so bad, then fine!” He began to walk off with a huff, no doubt expecting her to follow as he called back over his shoulder. “But don’t expect me to go and cater my evening to your fucking prescence!”

Pansy frowned in confusion but hurried after Potter regardless. What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

-

“Oh you must be out of your bloody mind!” She cursed in disbelief.

Potter threw her a smug-looking grin over his shoulder as he pushed the door to the prefect’s bath open.

“You’re the one who wanted to spend your detention with me so bad. I’ve had this time slot reserved all week. Just because you’re too stubborn to take no for an answer doesn’t mean I was about to give it up.” He said coolly.

Pansy scoffed and crossed her arms. “So you, what? Made Granger change the schedule because you wanted to keep your bloody bubble bath time?”

Potter gave a snort but didn’t deign her with a response. Instead, he began to turn the various knobs and dials adorning the, rather, overkill amount of faucets causing hot steaming water to flow freely. Within seconds, the large pool-like centre tub was a quarter of the way filled with water. Potter turned a few more faucets on, these spitting out a myriad of different coloured soaps and oils into the bath. After a minute or two, the bath was completely filled, and Pansy watched in shock as Potter began to strip before her very eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Pansy cried, unaware of the blush staining her cheeks at the sight of Potter’s toned stomach.

Potter rolled his eyes, unashamed in his efforts as he kicked off his shoes and began to unbuckle his pants.

“What’s it look like? It’s a bathtub, Parkinson. Kinda defeats the whole purpose of a bath if I’m clothed.” 

“Y-You can’t just strip in front of me without a little warning Potter!”

“Isn’t like you haven’t seen it all before.” He scoffed, tossing the last of his clothes to the side and leaving himself completely bare to her eyes. “Turn away if it embarrasses you.”

Pansy probably should’ve. Not because she was embarrassed–she wasn’t some blushing school girl no matter how much she looked the part in her uniform skirt and red stained cheeks–but because the sight of Potter’s cock was making her womanhood ache with longing. Pansy’s self-control was abysmal to begin with, but what was even worse was her pride. To her, Potter’s little display was a challenge to Pansy’s ego–as if he was treating her like some little giggling virgin and not the mature, and if she said so herself, drop-dead gorgeous woman she was. So, despite the voice in her head screaming at her to turn around and leave, Pansy crossed her arms and met Potter’s gaze head-on, one manicured eyebrow raising in defiance.

“Suit yourself.” He said with a shrug. Potter turned and stepped into the large pool. Pansy couldn’t help but let her eyes slip down to appreciate the sight of the raven-haired wizard’s bum. What? Just because she wanted nothing to do with Potter didn’t mean she couldn’t at least enjoy the view! He was an arsehole with a nice arse, sue her.

She felt a little unsure of what to do next as Potter leaned back with a tired sigh against the edge of the tub. The light layer of bubbles atop the water covered everything important, coming up to the top of his midsection, much to her disappointment. He seemed adamant to ignore Pansy’s presence, something that also irked her despite repeatedly telling herself she couldn’t care less about Potter’s attention. Of course, when Pansy became irked, her inner bitchiness usually came out.

“So is this what you do when you’re alone Potter? Take a bubble bath? It’s kind of sad.” She said with a voice of mocking pity.

Potter cracked open one eye and levelled her with a bored expression. “You try practising Quidditch with your angry ex-girlfriend every day for the past six weeks. You’re muscles will be screaming for a hot bath too.”

Pansy blinked. She wasn’t expecting that answer, truth be told.

She knew the story, of course. Everyone did. Potter and Weasley had been Britain’s ‘Golden Couple’ after the war. They were a symbol of hope, she supposed. An example that if the Chosen One can find happiness after the past two years of hell, then so could the rest of the Wizarding World. This is why it came as a surprise when the Daily Prophet featured a story a few months back describing all the nasty little details of a supposed explosive fight between the so-called Golden Couple in the middle of Diagon Alley. The general public had been devastated, but all Pansy could remember thinking was who the hell gave a damn?

Pansy pursed her lips.“Little Weasley is still pissed at you over the whole broken engagement thing huh?” Surprisingly, her voice was a lot kinder than even she expected, the words missing her usual biting venom.

Potter seemed taken aback as well, as he fully opened both eyes and gave her a suspicious look.

“You could say that.” He said after a beat.

Pansy hummed and kicked off her shoes. She wasn’t just going to bloody stand there all day. She dipped her feet into the water with a sigh. The previous night of walking had been a killer on her soles.

“Can’t say I blame her, you made a right spectacle out of the breakup.” She commented flippantly.

For the first time since she could remember, Potter looked thoroughly embarrassed as he grimaced at her words. “Suppose you’re right. I didn’t mean for things to end like that. It just all became…too much, y’know?”

“How do you mean?”

Potter gave her a shrug, the water splashing softly in the quiet of the tiled room.

“I dunno. Everyone just seemed so keen to move on after the war, Ginny included. As if it never happened.” He looked away with a frown, a distant look permeating his eyes. “It wasn’t so easy for me to do the same.”

Pansy swallowed. She hadn’t expected the conversation to shift so heavily. It didn’t feel right in a way–listening to Potter’s woes as if she were some sort of confidant to him. Pansy wasn’t anyone’s confidant, probably for good reason. Still, she was here, and so was Potter. Neither of them would be leaving anytime soon. Suppose she could humour him…

“Why not? I’d think out of everyone, you’d be the one jumping at the chance to move on. Finally live a normal life and all that, yeah?” She asked. She kicked her legs back and forth in the water to distract herself from the wrongness of the situation.

Again, Potter shrugged. “I don’t think I even know the meaning of ‘normal’. My life has been a constant stream of danger and heartache. Ginny didn’t deserve to be subjected to that.”

It was silent for a minute or two as Pansy mulled over his words. In a way, she could sympathise with him. Her childhood hadn’t been the easiest either. A greedy arse of a father and a drunkard mother made for a less than ideal environment for a child, especially a girl. The good days had been when they forgot she existed altogether. The bad was when they were all too aware of her existence. To her father, she was a bargaining chip, a piece of property to be traded or bartered. To her mother, Pansy was a reminder of all the woman used to be–young, beautiful, and unspoilt by the evils of the world…which only made her mother loathe Pansy all the more. Had her life been as bad as Potter’s? Something told Pansy no, but at least she could relate to the feeling of abnormality when everyone around you was happy and optimistic, while you hardly knew the meaning of those concepts.

Pansy sighed in irritation and sent a splash of water towards Potter with a kick.

“Hey! What the hell was that for?!” He sputtered, wiping the water from his eyes with a scowl.

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Because you were making me gag with your whole heartbroken-hero schtick. Really, Potter, cut all the shite and just admit you broke things off with Weasley ‘cause she caught you staring at Granger’s tits.”

“I’ve never stared at Hermione’s-” ‘Spash!’ “Will you stop fucking splashing-” ‘Splash!’ “That’s it!”

Pansy shrieked as Potter suddenly appeared before her and grabbed her by the foot. She tried to kick him away, but he was too fast. She shrieked again, this one devolving into a giggle as she used her other foot to kick and splash him, before, quite suddenly, she fell into the water with a great splash.

“Oh you’re fucking dead Potter!” She cried, wiping her ruined makeup from her cheeks. Her hair no doubt looked a mess as water dripped from her braid, and her clothes were completely soaked through. She couldn’t help but blush, thoug,h as she remembered she’d forgone wearing a bra that day for…some reason, meaning the now transparent white blouse was doing a nothing to hide away her tits from Potter’s eyes. Yet despite this, Pansy felt an almost manic glee as she all but tackled Potter into the water, his own resounding laughter mixing with her own as they splashed and fought in the large bath.

Their little game went on for who knows how long. Their bout ended in a literal wrestle for control against the side of the large pool. She put up a great fight, in her opinion at least, but in the end Potter had her beat in both endurance and strength, leaving her breathing hard from the exertion with Potter’s knee pressed between her thighs and his hands around her wrists.

Neither moved at first. They sat there catching their breath and staring into the others' eyes with smiles adorning their faces. It was then that Pansy fully remembered their current state. She, with her clothes soaked through, pressed up against Potter’s nude, muscular body… It was a recipe for disaster. Yet even as everything in her mind screamed at her to push him away–to move–to do anything but slowly tilt her head upwards until their lips met with a spark…Pansy did just that.

She felt something coo in satisfaction within her chest the moment Harry’s lips grazed hers. It felt right somehow. Pansy couldn’t describe it, but the little flutter in her bosom every time he kissed her felt like a breath she’d gone for so long without. With a whimper, she deepened the kiss. Potter released the hold on her wrists not a moment later, allowing Pansy to tangle her fingers through his messy raven locks as she swiped her tongue against his lips. His mouth opened readily for her, giving Pansy a small bit of control that was enough to make gooseflesh appear across her skin. She eagerly took every inch of ground, pushing her tongue deep into his mouth whilst his hands found the buttons of her blouse.

She didn’t even flinch when he tore the soaked garment asunder and her braless breasts spilt free in an avalanche of flesh. She didn’t flinch when he broke the kiss with a growl and tore away her skirt either. Nor did she flush when she was suddenly hauled onto the edge of the pool by her bare arse and divested of her knickers. Pansy only made a sound when Harry pushed her legs apart and buried his face into her puddy without warning.

“OH!” She gasped, digging her nails into the back of his scalp. The feeling of his tongue gleefully exploring her folds had Pansy drenched within moments. He licked along her labia, teasing apart her folds before finding that oh-so-precious pearl above her entrance. Pansy let out a sharp “Yes!” Her cry urging Harry on as he worked teasing yet vicious circles around her clit. Pansy was in heaven. Her clit had always been on the more sensitive side and Harry’s tongue was working every bit of toe-curling stimulation from the small bundle of nerves. Another cry broke past her lips, this one joined by an arch of her back. The pressure in her pussy was building rapidly. By now her hips were moving of their own volition, grinding her weeping cunt against Harry’s mouth as her climax grew closer and closer and closer-

“FUCK!” Pansy came with a shout, her legs shaking as her pussy clenched in orgasm. She couldn’t remember the last time she came this quickly. Harry was relentless. Evern as her juices stained his chin, he kept his tongue pushed against her clit, undulating the muscle against sensitive nub as Pansy’s whines of climax peaked into a silent scream of ecstasy. It was too much. She could hardly think through the roaring pleasure in her veins. With a cry she pushed his face away, clutching her poor pussy as the last vestiges of her orgasm seeped from her bones and left her muscles heavy and twitching.

“Gyah~!” She gasped finally, the tension leaving her body even as her pussy fluttered still in arousal. A light chuckle drew her foggy mind back to reality. She lifted her head up and shot the raven-haired prat a small glare. 

“S-Shut up.” She hissed, forcing herself up fully onto her elbows. Potter simply smirked at her biting tone, knowing full well she didn’t mean it. 

Instead, he took hold of her outer thighs, sending a trill of excitement up Pansy’s spine. She didn’t even hesitate to spread her legs for him once more, the heat of her pussy growing with every second. He cupped her cheek in a way that one would mistake for almost…affectionate, before his lips were on hers once more. This was different than their normal lust-crazed shags. There was no desperate crashes of lips. No bites, or slaps, or frantic moves to just hurry up and fuck already! Instead, it was tenderness that met Pansy’s lips. Intinctually she leaned into him, melting into his kiss with a whimpering sigh even as the tips of his cock parted her folds.

Her mind was reeling. She could hardly understand why he was doing this. Why was Potter being so…gentle? With her of all people? And why the fuck was Pansy liking it so much?

The slow, soft caresses of his fingers against her cheek sent goosebumps down her back. His tender kisses were making her heart hammer loudly against her ribcage. Even the way his cock streched her inner walls apart, inch by inch, was careful and almost loving…and Pansy couldn’t get enough of it.

But why?! She was a girl who loved a quick fuck! Shag her hard and fast, that was her preference. All the tender loving shite was for girls who swooned at being gifted flowers and read poetry. Pansy did not swoon. She liked it rough–with slapping and biting and being called a dirty slut. All of which Potter had been more than eager to do the night before. So why now was he being so…affectionate? Was it because of their talk about Weasley? 

As he finally bottomed out inside her, Pansy decided, with a moan, that she didn’t rightly care why in that moment. The questions in her head would still be there later. For now, she only wanted to wrap her legs around Harry’s waist and willow herself to be lost to the pleasure.

His lips never left hers, not even when he began to thrust rhythmically inside her cunt. Pansy didn’t mind, though. She found she liked the kissing. It felt good and plus it had the added benefit of blocking the light dusting of tears in her eyes from Potter’s gaze. He’d get the wrong idea anyway, stupid noble prat he was. It’s not like Pansy was bloody upset or something. She just had this well of emotion inside her chest that was far too complex for her to unravel. One that was causing tears to prickle at the corners of her eyes. That was it, nothing more.

He was moving faster now, not anywhere close to the normal rapid pounding he normally fucked her with, but fast enough that it had Pansy seeing stars behind her vision. His cock was pressing into spots so deep within her she never even knew they existed.  She tried to say something, but when she opened her mouth, she could only whimper. The sound of water sloshing was drowned out by the wet slapping of their sexes until Pansy finally broke their shared kiss with a strangled gasp and buried her face into the crook of his neck.

She was cumming. She hadn't even realised how close she was, yet here she was cumming from something other than rough animalistic fucking. Pansy couldn’t help it as the emotions in her chest fully took over, prying free a watery sob from her lips as her orgasm bloomed. What the fuck was wrong with her? Why was she feeling so…so…

Vulnerable.

She couldn’t fathom the word. Pansy Parkinson was anything but vulnerable. She was mean, hateful, volatile. Pansy was a ruthless backstabbing bitch. She was not…was not…whatever the fuck this was.

Yet still here she was, sobbing in a mixture of moans and tears as Harry gasped her name into her ear and the next second her womb was flooded with a rush of heat as he finished inside her.

They lay there for some time, the only sound that of their heavy breathing in one another’s ear. The high or her orgasm had long faded, but still, Pansy felt her mind clouded with an overload of emotion. She didn’t understand any of it.

The shifting of Harry atop her drove Pansy from her musings. He pushed himself up, looking down at her with a face just as conflicted as she felt.

“That was–”

“Yeah.” Pansy croaked, her voice sounding so very small in that moment.

She wanted to run. Every nerve in her body thrummed with a mindless panic of flight. She couldn’t–It was all just too–The feeling inside her chest–

She wanted to run…

…But she didn’t

Later, she’d blame it on the exhaustion. She’d say it was because all her clothes were soaked and she had nothing to wear back to her dorm, or perhaps she’d claim the sweat from their sex made her feel all grimy, and she was already in a bath, so there was no sense not to use it. She’d come up with a million different reasons for why she stayed, all lies, of course.

Pansy didn't know why she stayed. Didn’t remember the reasoning in her head at the time.

She only remembered climbing into Harry’s arms and burying her face into his neck as she let the tears fall and he rubbed soothing circles into her back.

-

Author’s Note

A little more emotion-heavy than the last chapter but hey, can’t have a Pansy story without one or two.

Thanks for reading!