Denial of A Dalliance - Chapter 2

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 2: Detention Sucks (Literally)

-

After the first time, Pansy swore vehemently she wouldn’t be caught dead around Potter unless absolutely necessary. Potter, for his part, agreed, and as such, they spent the next two-and-a-half months completely avoiding one another outside of lessons. The distance allowed Pansy to come to terms with their…late-night rendezvous, as she’s come to refer to it–and by come to terms, she meant have three consecutive panic attacks in pure mortification.

She had shagged Harry Potter.

Harry. Fucking. Potter.

There was literally no other worse choice for her to drunkenly throw herself at that night, and yet at some point, between all the booze and ‘woe is me’ attitude, she’d somehow thought that would be the best fucking idea she ever had.

And the worst part? She hadn’t even been ‘blackout drunk’ that night.

Her memory was hazy, to be sure, but she could still recall almost every vivid detail. Every inch of his exposed skin pressed against hers…Every hungry kiss that ended with gasps against the other’s lips…Every moan, every hitch of breath, every cry out in mind-shattering pleasure that left Pansy’s face hot with embarrassment, just thinking about it! She could remember it all, and the fact that it had been perhaps the best bloody sex of her life pissed her off to no end.

So no, even after avoiding Potter for the better part of three months, Pansy had by no means moved past the whole fiasco. In fact it was all she could think about most days! It was torture! She couldn’t so much as look at the color green without being reminded of Potter’s eyes boring into her own as he mercilessly pounded into–

Pansy groaned and shook her head, doing her best to clear the traitorous memories from her mind. It wouldn’t work of course, but at this point, there was little she could do short of Obliviating herself to forget that night, though it was a tempting thought.

Even in her dreams, she couldn’t escape the memories. Every night, she awoke with a gasp and a pair of soaked knickers after being forced to relive through that horrid–wonderous–experience as she slept. It led to Pansy resorting to a dreamless sleep potion every night, yet with her pitiful sum of funds, it had only been a matter of days before she could no longer afford to order more. The old healer Pomfrey refused to give her any as well, stating that unless Pansy had an actual ailment, she would not be getting any ‘handouts’ as the woman called them. Pansy of course didn’t tell the woman about her dreams or what was causing them, so she could do little more than grit her teeth and resign herself to a few nights without sleep.

Needless to say, Pansy was exhausted. And an exhausted Pansy was exceptionally bitchy during the best of times…Something the poor fourth year who bumped into her on her way to Charms found out the hard way.

“Oof! S-Sorry, I didn’t see you there!” The meek sandy-blonde Ravenclaw squeaked.

Pansy caught herself before she could stumble to the ground and grit her teeth angrily. Her head was already killing her and being crashed into by a sputtering fool certainly wasn’t helping things.

“Obviously!” She snapped. “Are you blind or just fucking stupid? Perhaps next time you should use your bloody eyes before running around the halls like a lumbering troll!”

The fourth-year, having not expected such an outburst, took a hesitant step back with his cheeks bright red in embarrassment. “I’m sorry! It was an accident, truly!”

Pansy scoffed and crossed her arms lest she be tempted to reach for her wand and curse the idiot.

“Yes, well your ‘accident’ has now made me late for Charms. Perhaps you’d like to come with me and explain to Flitwick how your dimwitted actions were the true cause of my tardiness. Then perhaps you can throw yourself from the Charms Tower window and rid the world of your stupidity!” As she spoke, her words were spat with more and more vitriol until she was nearly screeching with anger. It must have been quite the sight to any onlookers, her eyes bloodshot and her normally well-kept hair shaking loose from the messy bun she’d been almost too tired to throw it into that morning. 

The boy’s mouth hung open in shock, and Pansy could spot the look of hurt that flashed across his features. Before she could revel in her handiwork, however, the sound of someone lightly clearing their throat echoed out from behind her in the now eerily silent hall.

Before even turning around Pansy knew she fucked up. She would recognise that ‘ahem!’ from anywhere, so it wasn't a surprise when she finally did turn, that she found Headmistress McGonagall standing patiently behind her with a serious expression adorning her pinched face.

“I think you’ll find, Miss Parkinson, that language such as that is considered unacceptable, especially when aimed at one of your peers.”

“I-”

“Fifty points from Slytherin and two weeks of detention will suffice, I believe. And you’ll apologize to Mr. Heathers and do so with the appropriate amount of humility as well.” McGonagall ordered crisply. When Pansy made no move to do so, however, the old witch’s face settled into an even deeper frown. “Now, Miss Parkinson. You’re already late for Charms after all, and Professor Flitwick will be sure to know why. It wouldn’t be wise for you to give him a reason to add to your punishment, now would it?”

Pansy forced her gaze to the floor with a grimace. What the fuck was she supposed to do? She’d been caught red-handed telling a fourth year to bloody kill himself, of all things. As much as she loathed to do so, Pansy forced herself to turn and face the Ravenclaw boy.

“I…apologize for my outburst.” She said with a strained voice.

Thankfully, the boy nodded, his mouth still agape with shock, before glancing to McGonagall and scampering off without a word. No doubt, the sudden bout of excitement had the teen eager to leave as fast as possible. Pansy didn’t blame him–the withering look McGonagall was shooting her way made her want to run and hide in the nearest hole she could find.

This was all Potter’s fault.

-

McGonagall hadn’t felt it prudent to tell her how she’d be serving her detention, leaving Pansy to stew in her irritation all day, praying she didn’t get some god-awful assignment with Filch. That man was the epitome of a pervert and would no doubt force Pansy to scrub the floors just so he could get a better look at her arse.

It was shortly after dinner that Pansy received her first summons for detention. A Hufflepuff prefect had delivered the note bearing McGonagall’s signature just as she was leaving the Great Hall. She wasted no time in ripping the small slip open. What she read, however, stopped her in her tracks, leaving her in a statuesque state of shock in the middle of the hall.

The good news is at least she wouldn’t have to deal with Filch oogling her tits. Nope! She wouldn’t have to worry about that! Instead, she would be spending the next two weeks with the someone who’d actually seen her tits. The one person she’s spent the last three-fucking-months trying to forget even existed…Harry Bloody Potter.

Crumpling the note angrily in her hand, Pansy began to stalk towards the fourth floor where her ‘chaperone’ awaited.

THIS, she knew, was most certainly Potter’s fault.

-

“Parkinson.”

“Potter.” She spat.

Across from her, the raven-haired man rolled his eyes and leaned back against the staircase railing.

“Pleasant as always.” He drawled. “What’d you do to earn yourself a detention now, Parkinson?”

Pansy scoffed and turned her head, not even deigning him the pleasure of her attention…at least that’s what she was telling herself. In truth, the sight of his eyes brought far too many naughty memories to the forefront of her mind.

“As if you don’t already know! I’m sure you took great pleasure in getting McGonagall to give you the reins over my punishment.” She hissed.

Potter furrowed his brow in confusion. “What are you on about? I was just as surprised as you when McGonagall informed me I’d be supervising your detention.”

“Yeah right.” Pansy scoffed, throwing him a glare. Their eyes met for barely a second, conjuring the image of Potter peering up at her from where his mouth was buried against her cunt. Pansy did her best to fight the blush she felt rising in her cheeks and instead deepened her scowl. Anger was her go-to response for complex emotions, and the whirlpool of sensation curling in her chest definitely counted as ‘complex’.

“This is probably just some sick, twisted game to you!” She continued, breathing out an angry laugh. “Does lording your power over me get you off or something, Potter? That’s sad. Really.”

Potter rolled his eyes again and pushed himself off the railing. Pansy instinctively took a half-step back as he approached.

“Sorry to break this to you Parkinson, but one night drunken sex doesn’t make you the expert at what ‘gets me off’.” He sneered.

Pansy stepped back in disbelief. She hadn’t expected him to bring their night together up. The casual way he said it, with that biting tone of his, was like a slap to the face, and Pansy felt the irritation spasm in her chest.

“You fucking-”

“Come on.” Potter interrupted, shoving past her to begin walking further down the hall. “I have better things to do than babysit you, Parkinson, so either keep up or go serve your detention with filch. Your choice.”

Pansy stood motionless for a second, then two, before finally rushing to catch up with Potter with an annoyed huff.

Being stuck with Potter was bad, but Filch was undoubtedly worse.

-

“So are you gonna answer my question?”

Pansy jumped at the sound of Potter’s voice. Thus far, they’ve simply been walking in silence with the occasional stop for him to check the odd broom cupboard or classroom. Following a prefect on patrol wasn;t the hardest of punishments but to Pansy it was still mind-numbingly tedious.

“What question?” She huffed.

Potter paused to shine the light of his wand into a shadowed alcove. Seeing nothing, he nodded and continued on.

“The one I asked earlier. What’d you do to earn yourself two weeks' worth of detention? Had to be pretty bad.” He said.

Pansy sighed. It was probably best to answer him and save her the annoyance of his prodding.

“I shouted at a fourth year.” She stated simply.
Potter glanced back with a bemused expression. “You shouted at a fourth year? Two weeks of detention is a bit extreme for shouting even for McGonagall. C’mon, fess up.”

Pansy grimaced and averted her gaze to hide the blush of shame on her cheeks.

“I may have…told the fourth year to jump out a window in between all the shouting. Along with some…colourful words.” She said slowly.

In front of her, Potter halted his steps and looked back at her with a snort. “Yeah, that would do it.” He chuckled. “That mouth of yours was bound to get you into trouble someday, Parkinson.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Pansy scoffed.

Potter shrugged. “Just that you never really gave a damn who your words hurt. Insults were always your weapons of choice. Sometimes I don’t think you even realized the effect of what you said had on some people.”

They paused again so Potter could pull out a tattered piece of parchment. He whispered a phrase that was too quiet for Pansy to hear, but she was able to make out the sudden appearance of ink across the worn pages. It looked to be a map of some sort.

Potter studied the aged parchment for a moment before folding it closed with a hum.

“This way.” He said, nodding towards an adjacent hall.

Pansy followed with a huff, still more than a bit peeved over his words.

“Just because some were too sensitive for their own good doesn’t mean I was some dehumanizing bitch to everyone I came across.” She retorted.

“Maybe not.” Potter shrugged. “But you always went out of your way to spit your vilest words at those you thought deserved it. How many times did you reduce Hermione to tears again?” He shot back with a small glare over his shoulder.

Pansy had no retort for that. He was right after all. If she thought someone deserved it, she would do her best to make them feel less than worthless. Granger wasn’t the only one. There were perhaps dozens of others, even counting Potter himself. Though he always met her words head-on, trading insult for insult, and gaining the upper hand in their verbal spars more often than not. A fact that still bothered her even to this day. Still, he had a point. There were times when she may have taken things too far, even she could see that.

“Maybe I wasn’t the most…pleasant girl.” She breathed. “But all that was a long time ago.”

Potter paused outside a broom cupboard door and gave her an unreadable look.

“Not that long.” He said simply, before turning and throwing open the door.

The sight of two snogging sixth-years in various states of undress greeted them. Pansy stifled a laugh as the blonde Ravenclaw girl squeaked and pushed her boyfriend away in her rush to cover her exposed breasts while the Hufflepuff nearly tripped over his feet trying in vain to pull his trousers back up.

Potter merely rolled his eyes at the sight. “10 points from you both. Now, get back to your dorms before I change my mind and give you a detention each.”

The couple nodded furiously, the girl even squeaking out an apology before running out with her blouse half buttoned up and a bright red blush on her face.

“And no detours!” Harry yelled after them. The shout only served to make the boy actually trip this time. Pansy couldn’t hold it back after that. She doubled over in laughter, cackling like a mad woman while Potter shot her an amused look.

“Did you see the look on their faces?!” She wheezed. “Fucking priceless!”

“It was a little funny.” He admitted with a light chuckle. “Believe me though, that was a lot more amusing than if we showed up a few minutes later. Walking in on a couple mid-shag is more awkward than it sounds.”

“So says you.” Pansy snorted. They began to walk once more, continuing their patrol through the sleeping castle. “What do you do if you do catch them in the act? Have you ever let ‘em finish before?”

Potter surprised her with a chuckle and shook his head. “Unfortunately, I’m not that nice. Though I have gotten a few offers from time to time.”

“Offers?” She asked.

Potter smirked and gave her a pointed look. “Offers to join in.”

Pansy let her jaw drop in shock. “No!”

“Yep.” He nodded. “Did you know that Justin Finch-Fletchley apparently likes watching other blokes shag his girlfriend?”

“You’re kidding! The Abbott girl?! She’s such a shy thing!” Pansy gasped.

“She wasn’t that night.” Potter snorted. “She even tried to grope my cock, and Justin just sat there and watched with an excited look on his face!”

Pansy broke out into another fit of giggles. The mental image of the normally shy and quiet blonde witch from Hufflepuff brazenly trying to feel up another man in front of her boyfriend nearly had her in tears. She had to brace herself against the wall for support, or she might’ve just fall to the ground with laughter.

“T-That’s fucking hysterical!” She breathed. “Dear Morgana, who would’ve thought?! Hannah Abbott, closeted Nymphomaniac!”

Potter laughed and gave her a shrug. “Guess you don’t really know someone until you see them without any clothes on.”

He meant it as a joke. He knew it, and so did Pansy. Yet the small parallel drew their minds back to that night. Their laughter sobered quickly. Pansy made the mistake of looking up and meeting Potter’s gaze. Those green orbs of his pierced her far too easily for her liking, and she found herself quickly avoiding their sight once more.

“We should probably talk.” He muttered. “About that night?”

Pansy cleared her throat and turned to peer down the hall. It was utterly empty and boring, but anything was better than his eyes.

“What’s there to talk about? We were drunk and we had sex.” Pansy scoffed, her voice sounding far braver than she felt. “It’s not that big of a deal, Potter.”

“Is that why you can’t even look me in the eye?”

His words froze something inside her chest. It was as if that one simple sentence broke through her carefully crafted defenses (As if she had any to begin with) and laid out all her insecurities to bear. She wouldn’t allow that. She couldn’t. With her heart hammering against her ribcage, Pansy turned slowly. Her face was stoic and impassive, yet within her mind was a torrent of emotions that made her want to run for the hills as she locked eyes with Potter once more.

“There. I’m looking you in the eye.” She said in a challenging tone.

Potter held her gaze for what felt like an eternity without saying a word. Pansy’s panic flared with each unspoken second that passed, knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep up the facade for much longer. The desire to crumble beneath his stare was too much. It was too exposing. Thankfully, just as the last of her control was slipping, Potter broke off his stare. At first, Pansy breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he was going to hopefully drop the subject altogether and let them return to their silent agreement of forgetting that night ever happened. Yet that’s not what Potter had in mind it seems.

Before she could even react, Potter had her pressed up against the wall with both her wrists in an iron-like grip above her head. Pansy gasped in surprise, unable to contain the sudden jolt of excitement in her core. His face was inches from hers. His eyes now unhindered as they pierced into the depths of her soul. Pansy couldn’t help it. Just his gaze alone had her body reacting. She could feel the arousal already dripping from her cunt and she shivered in lustful excitement. Potter didn’t miss any of this. A knowing smirk formed on his lips as he leaned with a whisper.

“If it was just some drunken sex then why are your eyes practically begging me to fuck you?”

Like the shattering of glass, Pansy’s resolve broke. The months of repressing her memories–of repressing her desires–came undone in an instant as she crashed her lips against his. Her mouth was hungry for him. Desperate. Unyielding. Even pressed up against the wall, she fought for control, pushing her tongue into his mouth as she moaned with lust.

They were however, still very much in the middle of a hallway. A fact that Pansy vividly remembered when she felt Potter’s hand slide beneath her skirt and grope her knicker clad arse.

“Not here.” She whimpered, rubbing her thighs together to dampen the itch of her arousal in vain.

Thankfully, Harry nodded in understanding, releasing her wrists before leading her a little ways down the corridor to the closest abandoned classroom. With a wave of his hand, the door clicked shut behind them, locked and silenced for good measure. That was all the invitation Pansy needed to jump into his arms. He caught her without issue, both hands firmly clasped onto her arse as he chuckled.

“You don’t waste time, do you?” He teased.

Pansy rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Shut up and kiss me already Potter.”

Harry obliged her request, their lips meeting once more as he carried her over to the desk tucked away at the far end of the room. Every touch from him was driving her wild. His lips dominating her mouth. His hands squeezing the supple flesh of her arse. She could even feel the hardness of his length already pressed against her stomach, and it made her shiver with excitement. The backs of Pansy’s legs hit the desk first, and before she knew it, she was leaning back atop the wooden surface with her knickers pushed to the side and Potter’s middle two fingers pushed all the way to the knuckle inside her pussy.

“Oh!” Pansy gasped. It wasn’t his cock, but three months of sex filled dreams with no actual sex had made her pussy ultra-sensitive. Potter’s fingers moved at a rhythmic pace, seeping between her folds fast enough that Pansy was already seeing stars. Fuck she needed this way more than she thought!

“FFFuck!” She cried, pressing her face into Potter’s neck. He had found her g-spot and was now mercilessly grinding the tips of his fingers against it with a ‘come hither’ motion. “D-Don’t stop! Oh fuck don’t you dare fucking stop Harry~”

She felt him chuckle against her. “First name basis now, Pansy?”

The way he breathed her name made something catch in Pansy’s throat. She, however, was in far too much pleasure to care. Pulling back, the infamous Slytherin beauty captured his lips once more, before pulling back with a sharp bite to his bottom lip.

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me already!” She gasped.

The absence of his fingers inside her was sudden. The shift from being sat atop the rickety old desk to being bent over it was even more so. Even as his hands ghosted over her arse, something nagged at Pansy in the back of her mind. This was a mistake. They both knew it. Nothing good could come from sleeping with one another again, yet she had utterly no desire to stop. In fact, she had a feeling that if they stopped now, it would drive her completely mad. No, they couldn’t stop, but this couldn’t happen again.

“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.

Pansy certainly wasn’t complaining, though, not even when Harry gave her voluptuous backside a sharp smack. With a giggle, Pansy wiggled her arse back and forth. She was rewarded with another smack before something long and hard landed against her left cheek.

‘I forgot how fucking big it was’ She thought, unable to contain her shiver of excitement.

The shiver only increased as her skirt was pushed up and her knickers pulled down. She had but a moment to truly prepare herself before her pussy was sudden split apart.

Harry wasted no time in sheathing his cock fully inside her. It was so sudden that Pansy hadn’t even the time to gasp in pleasure before he was hilted within her fluttering walls. The only reprieve she was given was when he slapped her arse one final time before grasping her hips and began to pound the fucking daylights out of her cunt. The first thrust made Pansy scream with pleasure. The second and third weren’t much better. After that, she lost count. Her mind could only focus on the rhythmic wet slaps of Potter pounding into her arse. ansy's hands pressed against the desk hard, relying on it to steady herself as she endured the rough shag.

Harry wasn't looking anywhere near her hands, though. He'd chosen this position specifically so he could watch her bum as he fucked her, and that's where his eyes focused. He loved looking down and watching that arse jiggle from the force of his thrusts, and he had a feeling he could easily become obsessed with admiring this view should they be foolish enough to continue doing this after tonight.

Pansy was of the same mind, though her obsession was over how fucking incredible it felt to have his cock splitting her pussy apart. Each time it was rammed inside her–reshaping her inner walls–Pansy grew just a little more addicted to it. It was a tool of euphoria. Made to drive her closer and closer to a screaming end of ecstasy as she moaned like the cock drunk whore she was.  It wasn’t just his cock that had that effect on her though. Potter as a whole seemed to be able to drive the most wondrous sensations from her flesh–whether it be by fucking her pussy, spanking her arse, yanking her hair–it didn’t matter. Pansy couldn’t get enough of any of it, which is why it wasn't much of a surprise when a particularly sharp slap against her rippling derriere triggered her climax. 

“GYAH!” She screamed, her nails cutting gouges into the aged wood as her pussy trembled in orgasm. Her juices gushed freely, coating Harry’s cock as he continued to fuck her from behind. 

Even as her orgasm continued to rage, he kept fucking her. The stings of slaps against her arse only grew until Pansy was positive each of her bubbly arsecheeks was marred by a deep red handprint. She didn’t mind, though. Each spank only drew another strangled moan from her lips. She was a rough sex kind of girl after all.

Just as her second orgasm began to peak, Harry suddenly pulled free from her depths. She had just enough time to groan in disappointment before her world view shifted and she was sat atop the desk with her legs spread once more. Potter was back inside her in an instant. The swiftness of his cock streching her walls apart made Pansy’s jaw drop in ecstasy. Potter growled and grabbed a handful of her hair as his hips began to move, nearly forcing Pansy’s eyes to roll back into her head as her world was filled with pleasure once more.

"Fuck!" Pansy groaned as he slammed into her relentlessly. "Merlin, Potter, you're so big! Fuck, yes! Oh fuck it feels so good!"

SMACK!

The slap came as a surprise and left the side of her face stinging. A yank of her hair brought her gaze back up to meet Potter’s.

“That’s not my name.” He growled. “Say it right.

Pansy was surprised how much the slap turned her on. She was even more surprised that the commanding voice made her pussy clench in arousal even more. She had no choice but to obey.

“Harry~” She breathed. “Yes, Harry! Oh fuck, yes, yes YES!” She screamed her lungs out as her peak was shattered and her body destroyed a second climax. She screamed so loud that it was a surprise the whole damn castle wasn’t woken. She didn’t give a damn if they were though. Her mind was completely overtaken by the pleasure by this point. She was a slave to Harry’s cock as it hammered into her. She didn’t even have the strength to remain upright, going almost completely limp as Harry gasped and pulled back.

Most of his cum landed upon her stomach. Some made it higher up, staining the front of her blouse. Pansy wrinkled her nose at the sight. She liked this blouse! Oh well, she sighed and pushed herself up with some effort.

“I’m all sticky now.” She pouted.

Harry chuckled and surprised her with a gentle kiss to her lips. Pansy would never admit how good that kiss felt, nor how it turned her on far more than any of the lust-fueled snogs they shared earlier.

“I’d apologize, but I’m not actually sorry.” Harry smirked.

Pansy rolled her eyes and quickly unbuttoned her ruined blouse. Harry watched with intrigue as she threw it and her bra to the side, before she slowly sank to her knees before him. “I never said I didn’t like it.” She teased back before running her tongue across the underside of his cock.

Potter groaned, returned his hand to her hair as Pansy swallowed him down her gullet. If this was to be their last time together, then she was going to make damn sure she got as much out of it as she could.

-

Author’s Note

Something tells me it won’t be the last time… Next chapter: Spoiler alert, it wasn’t, and Pansy has to now deal with the internal struggle of her failed plan. Keep an eye out for more!

Thanks for reading!