The Right by Parks and Fiction, Chapter 17.
Well, I have to say, that was something.
Teresa shielded her eyes to glance up at the castle behind
them. Bananope's letters did not do it
justice. Richard was still deep in
conversation with Hermione, Mcgonigal and Sloughhorn as they
strolled from the entrance down towards the Quidditch pitch.
Bringing Mughals to Hogwarts had almost immediately been
dismissed as too much work. Then, with a few well placed
comments, Pansy unleashed Hermione Granger onto the
situation. Within a week, Hermione had a
meeting with Mcgonigal Shacklebolt and the Head of the
Mughal Relations Department at the Ministry.
They left with not only a plan to invite the Griffiths to
Hogwarts the day of the Gryffindor Slytherin match, but
the beginnings of a plan to host an annual event each summer for
muggle born students and their families to be introduced to the
school and the magical community.
The Griffiths were ever so happy to volunteer their services as a
personal favour to the Headmistress of Hogwarts and the
Minister of Magic to figure out how to bring muggles to the
school. It was a bit of a complicated
process, but once the Unspeakables finished their
work, Richard and Teresa had talismans they could wear that
allowed them past any muggle specific wards around public
magical places. Some places, like Diagon Alley
still required the use of a wand to enter, but Teresa could find
the Leakey on her own. She and Pansy already had plans
to meet there and take lunch at one of the finer dining
establishments in Diagon. Teresa wore her runic coin on a
long gold chain. It complemented the outfit Pansy
had designed for her for the occasion.
An emerald green dress with a tighter fitting Mughal
silhouette but wizard robe style sleeves.
The perfect balance of fitting in yet standing out.
Mcgonigal, Slughorn and Hermione led the tour.
It took all the 5 minutes for Pansy to regret inviting the
woman whose favorite book was Hogwarts a History to
participate, but there were enough time she'd slipped into
what felt like a different language with the Griffiths
about Muggle references. That was probably worth the
trade off in the end. I don't think I knew half that,
and I lived there for seven years, Pansy told Teresa.
She laughed. Your friend is delightful
though, she said. Ravenclaw, almost.
She said she was a hat split, but went with Gryffindor in the
end. It's a unique name, she said.
Is she the same Hermione of the, what are they called?
The three She smacked. Golden Trio.
That's it. She recommended a few books for
Richard and Teresa to catch them up to date on wizarding current
events. Well, to be fair, she'd asked
Hermione what books to recommend to Richard and Teresa for
current events and then passed those on to the couple.
But really, same thing, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and
Hermione Granger. Pansy said.
You'll meet Harry and Ron today at the pitch.
Are they friends of yours now as well?
It took everything in her not to snort.
Better friends with my husband. I read about his heroics as
well. She smiled softly, wondering not
for the first time if her words were written in any of those
histories, forever recorded as the villain everyone wanted to
see. But he's there.
Potter's there. Someone grab him.
Penelope said that she's been enjoying his classes.
Teresa said, staring them towards easier ground.
Neville said she's been doing really well, Well enough that
the Ravenclaw boy who'd been teasing her since school
started, which Neville assured her he was keeping an eye on.
But so far, nothing insidious. Just an awkward first year who
didn't know how to talk to pretty girls, had missed 2 days
of classes after sprouting purple hair all over his body.
Not even Fancy would have been able to put it together if
Neville hadn't been complaining about missing bottles of
fluxweed syrup he'd made-up for Slughorn.
On the same day, she'd received a reply from Penelope informing
her that Jacob had in fact finally started leaving her
alone due to his mysterious ailment and then his frantic
need to catch up on missed classes.
If Neville examined his shrivel figs, Pansy was certain he'd
find at least one of the plants pruned.
The Slytherin girls dormitory had it's share of secrets, and
she was glad to see Penelope was Privy to them.
Pansy sent her a package full of Honeydukes best in reply.
I hope you don't mind me asking. Obviously being a professor is
an important position. Teresa began.
But is Herbology A respected discipline?
She was being quite delicate about it, but Pansy knew what
she was asking. If the Griffiths should
encourage Penelope's budding skills in her biology, or if
prestige and fortune were best found elsewhere.
It was a difficult question to answer.
I suppose it depends on the person and their position, she
said. Unless you made some spectacular
discoveries or managed to monetize it in some way, I
wouldn't say it would be a venerated profession in the
circles I was raised in. Not that any profession truly
was. We are a small, insular society,
so innovation and discovery is celebrated so long as it didn't
threaten the status quo too much.
However, herbology has always been considered a very
respectable hobby. Many witches I knew growing up
took great pride in their gardens and greenhouses.
Teresa seemed to lose a bit of her nerves and gave Pansy a shy
smile. It's not too different in our
circle, she said. I've done a lot of work in our
rose gardens, as our social calendar allows.
I'm sure they're beautiful. She said.
My aunt rather despaired for a while that I wouldn't make the
match she'd hoped for me because of my black thumb.
The Malfoy rose gardens were legend, and Narcissa Malfoy
personally saw to the curation of each plant.
Teresa's smile turned sly. Well, you obviously managed to
convince him anyway. It took her a moment to realise
Teresa thought she was talking about Longbottom.
She laughed. I never would never have met my
family's approval. Oh, forgive me, dear, She said.
I was under the impression he was also, what's the term, full
blooded? That sounded much nicer than
pure blood. He is in fact from one of our
oldest families, and there's not a muggle or muggle porn in his
line, She said. However, his family is, I think
the closest muggle term would be middle class ancient family line
and comfortable but not particularly deep vaults.
Teresa nodded. And to make matters worse, his
family is what the Pure Blood elite would refer to as a blood
traitor, A Pure Blood who does not believe in blood supremacy.
She said. Neville is a Pure Blood by
happenstance, not carefully arranged matches, unlike you.
She smiled briefly, hoping it didn't look as forced as it
felt. Yes, it was ironic though of the
once revered Sacred 28, soon there would only be 4 Pure blood
families left. Longbottom, Fawley, Macmillan
and Weasley, another generation or two and they would be
probably all wiped out. Would they have forced you into
another match? Being back at Hogwarts always
twisted something inside her. She loved this place for so
long, but sometime during 5th year it had started to grow
tainted. The darkness that inhabited her
home started to seep into the school that had been her bright
spot of hope by 7th year after the battle.
It was all she saw now. The bright hope had returned,
but there would always be the undercurrent, The memories of
when the darkness had almost won.
Her attempts to help Draco through his panic attacks during
6th and 7th year. Watching the Caro's torture her
classmates, seeing people she thought of as friends doing the
same and enjoying it, knowing what would happen if Theo's
secret was found out. Not realizing Blaze was keeping
the same thing hidden. Wonder if Daphne would suffer
the same fate she'd been forced into, desperate to keep Draco
safe. He was is one of my best
friends, she said, finally answering Teresa's question
about the convoluted mess that was her relationship with Draco
Malfoy. He was in love with someone
else, someone he could never have.
We both had a familial expectations, if such a word
could even begin to explain the twisted darkness that they had
no choice but to follow. The threat from her father and
that of having her magic stripped from her.
The threat of Bellatrix, who would do anything to keep the
last pure blood heir to the Malfoyan Black lines from tating
himself with a muggle born. I like to think that had the
worst happened, we would have done what we could to save each
other. Teresa's gaze was heavy on her.
Laughter caught her attention, and she glanced over to
Hermione, grinning. With Mcgonigal and Sloughhorn.
The other woman was her, wasn't it?
Teresa asked gently, her lips quirked.
That hadn't taken her long. Did you help them hide their
relationship at school? If not telling anyone Draco was
fantasizing about being with Hermione any time they were
together counted. He had to pretend to hate her.
Pansy said for her own protection.
You did too. She looked down at the grass.
I didn't have to pretend. There were times she didn't
believe she had any shame left in her body.
She'd made the decisions she had in order to protect herself and
the people she cared about. Anyone who judged her for that
had no way of understanding what she'd gone through.
But speaking to this woman, this mother who dearly loved her
daughter, a muggle born witch who Pansy from 10 years ago
would have scorned, she felt it. I had a plan.
Pansy swallowed words she'd never told another soul, had
given up believing she ever would, but for some reason she
needed this woman, this Muggle mother, to know.
It probably wasn't even a very good one.
But I had a plan, she said, to help her, try to save her for
him. A gentle hand rested on her
shoulder, and she almost flinched.
She did not deserve kindness from Teresa, not in regards to
that. I don't pretend to know or
understand much of your world, especially from that time,
Teresa said. But even I know that would have
carried great risk. I'm sure she is grateful for
what you would have tried to do. She doesn't know, she said.
No one does, not even your friend or Neville.
Especially them. I didn't do it to be good or
kind, she said. I needed something from him, and
I knew he would do anything for her.
Some days that made her plan seem worse than not having one
at all. Teresa's hand squeezed her
shoulder. You were a child during the war.
She said. Of course you tried to save
yourself. Tears stung her eyes.
Fuck, she hated crying. The fact that you chose to save
her to get what you needed says something to.
She swallowed hard. Moments later, Teresa pulled her
into her arms. She clung to her in the
unexpected hug, inhaling deeply against her shoulder until she
regained her control. Teresa gave her a soft smile,
cupping her cheek. No one, whoever they are, does
things out of pure altruism. She said.
Don't let the goody Gryffindors get to you.
She winked. She laughed.
Penelope teach you that? Teresa linked their arms
together as they walked to catch up with the others.
She's leaned into the rivalries a bit, I'm afraid.
Oh, it's good for them these days It was, at least.
Sounds like today is always quite the event.
Absolutely, she said. Are you a fan of Muggle sports?
Only as it pertains to my social calendar, she said with a laugh.
Although in school I used to play field hockey.
The team captain actually. Well, maybe in a few years we'll
see Penelope leading one of these matches.
Thank you for making it possible for us to be here today.
Teresa said, her voice soft. Being welcomed into this part of
her world is a gift. I'm glad it worked out.
They reached the others and Mcgonigal turned to her with a
look she'd rarely seen on the older witch, something almost
near approval. Well, Missus Park.
Hermione bitter smirk as Mcgonigal stumbled.
Pansy didn't bother to hide hers.
What's worse? She said, calling me Missus
Longbottom or knowing one day you're going to have to call her
Missus Malfoy. There was almost a look of
disappointed superiority she was used to from the Hogwarts
mistress. I have been a teacher for
decades, she said. If you think there is any
pairing that would still shock me at this point, you'll be very
much mistaken. Pansy's marriage to Neville was
the first time one of those surprise pairings involved the
grandson of her best friend from school.
However, I am always happy to see former students find
happiness. Mcgonigal continued, even in
unexpected ways. For a moment, she wondered if
that was a slight to her. But Hermione and Draco probably
made less sense than her and Neville, and they were the ones
who were actually in love. Mcgonigal turned back to the
Griffiths. We can continue to the pitch if
you both are ready. Hermione dropped back to scold
her. She was trying to pay you a
compliment. She's doubtless thanking Godrig
I saved her from that embarrassment.
They soon caught up with the few stragglers towards the match.
Apparently, it was a well known fact that 2/3 of the Golden Trio
regularly attended this match, and the news that Hermione
Granger was attending as well left the stands packed earlier
than ever, everyone excited to catch a glimpse of the Wizarding
world's greatest heroes. Neville, Draco, Potter, Weasel,
and Wieselt were already seated when they arrived.
Neville greeted Pansy with a kiss to her cheek, practically
buzzing with excitement. She introduced him to the
Griffiths. Teresa looked him up and down,
taking in the eyesore of a red and gold jumper before glancing
over at Draco's polished look. Pansy smirked.
We're a work in progress. Neville rolled his eyes.
Hermione introduced the rest of their friends and then each of
their professors who were present.
Weasel glared at Pansy in lieu of a hello, but she managed a
civil greeting to both Potters that was considerably warmer
than when she'd last seen them both at their house.
Potter took over a brief explanation of Quidditch to the
Griffiths. Did you play in school?
Richard asked. Potter beamed.
Seeker from my first year. I thought first years couldn't
play. Theresa said.
Yes, Professor. Could you catch the rest of us
up on that? Draco asked, leaning over to
glance at Mcgonigal. First years can't bring their
own brooms to school, and they can't try out for the team, she
said. Mr. Potter did neither.
Ah. Draco said.
And since when did the school carry Nimbus 2000s?
Her look was stiff and prim. First years on their House team
are allowed to have brooms. How did you make the team
without trying out? Teresa asked.
The family legacy, well, I was, but I was raised by Muggles, so
I never actually gotten on a broom until our first flying
lesson. Potter said.
Thanks to Draco here, though, I got to try a fancy bit of flying
when our instructor was taking Neville to the hospital wing
with his broken arm and Mcgonagall saw.
Teresa's eyes flew up and she glanced at Mcgonagall.
A child broke his arm, falling off a broomstick, and the rest
of the class was left unsupervised.
Potter pressed his lips together.
Broken bones are incredibly easy to heal by magic.
Hermione tried to reassure Teresa.
Almost instantaneous. So it's seen as a very minor
injury. It's regrowing them that's
difficult. Potter muttered to Weasley as
they both sniggered. Regrowing bones.
Teresa asked. Magic can also do that.
Not as fast overnight, so it's not as bad as you think.
Hermione said. What you really need to know
though, is that Harry Potter's experience at Hogwarts was very
atypical and Penelope is going to be just fine.
Atypical even for a Gryffindor. Pansy clarified.
Penelope's in the right house, so she already has a leg up
indeed, and we couldn't be more proud to have her.
Sloughhorn said. Hermione used his distraction
and Mcgonigal's efforts to reassure Richard and Teresa of
the school's emphasis on safety to smack Potter upside his head.
All squabbles ceased as the team stepped out under the field.
Even Pansy got swept away in the magic of an exciting Quidditch
match. Both teams were remarkably well
matched. The Gryffindor Chasers were a
seamless team, apparently being scouted by different
professional teams, according to Wieselt.
But the Slytherin keeper was absolutely brilliant.
You don't seem nervous yet, Potter, Draco said.
A Slytherin edged ahead by 40 points.
It all comes down to the Seeker anyway, he said, his eyes
scanning the sky for the two Seekers circling above the
pitch. Tell that to the 1994 Irish
World Cup team. Hermione said primly.
Wieselt snorted. Hermione, you can't keep
bringing up the only one exception in recent memory as if
it's a fact. It is a fact that in 1994
Ireland won, but the victor caught the Snitch.
Weasel gave Draco the side eye with a small smirk.
How is Vicky, He said. Still, keep in touch.
Hermione's international news making rebound after she and
Weasel broke up apparently bothered Weasel more at the time
than it did Draco currently, but Weasel never passed an
opportunity to needle him. Draco, to his credit, didn't
rise to Weasel's bait. She's been working with him on
his efforts to get Dermstrang to accept muggle borns.
Is that the Scandinavian school you mentioned?
Richard? Asked Pansy.
She nodded, but that was all it took before Richard, Hermione,
and a few professors were deep in a discussion about
international wizarding politics.
Teresa Game. Fancy a playful eye roll?
It's career Japan 2022 all over again.
Almost 3 hours into the match, Potter jumped to his feet.
Seconds later, the Gryffindor seeker shot into a dive.
The Slytherin Seeker, however, shot in the opposite direction.
Everyone else jumped their feet, eyes on the match below.
Fuck. Potter muttered, digging his
hands through his hair. Fernsby, you ass.
Neville groaned. Pansy finally saw the flick of
gold The Slytherin Seeker was flying towards.
The Gryffindor beaters were frantically trying to knock her
off course, but she performed A sloth grip role without slowing
down. Pansy's hands tightened onto the
railing in front of her. Come on, come on.
The Gryffindor Seeker pulled up from his fronsky faint just in
time to realise what was going on.
He flew after his opponent, but he was far too late.
The moment our hands wrapped around the Golden Snitch, the
stands erupted as Gryffindors around them groaned and dropped
to their stands. Pansy and Draco cheered.
Several of the other teachers clapped politely, but only Slug
Home was on his feet with Pansy and Draco cheering.
And with that slur in the winds, 210 to 90.
Pansy threw her arms around Draco as they celebrated the
win. All she could do was laugh.
For a moment, it felt like they were right back at school.
Neville glared at Potter. That's the last time you can
come. How is this my fault?
He demanded. Fernsby was bragging all week
about I was going to do a Vronsky faint to impress you.
Well, maybe next time the head of his house should let him know
a win is going to impress me more.
He muttered darkly. What year is the Slytherin
Seeker? Wieselt asked, calculating eyes
on the field as the young girl celebrated with her team.
Second. Neville groaned.
Not today. Potter told his wife.
Plot another day, Wieselt shrugged.
She's good. Not today, Potter said again.
Pansy said goodbye to the Griffiths, who were spending the
rest of the afternoon with Slough, Corn and Penelope at the
castle. As teacher slowly started to
clear out, Draco turned to Hermione with the biggest shit
eating grin. All right, Granger, he said.
Pay up. She frowned.
What? We had a bet.
She looked horrified. Not here in 24 hours.
He said that was the deal. Potter's eyes narrowed, his hand
slipping to his wand. What's this?
Weasel was eyeing Draco with equal levels of suspicion, hand
already on his own wand. Draco didn't pay either of them
mind. Hermione straightened her face
Prim. Well, it's not here, so you'll
just have to wait until we get home.
Draco reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a
familiar green and silver piece of fabric.
Pansy immediately burst out laughing as all the boys moaned.
Good Godric ferret, are you 14? Wieselt asked.
It's been his wet dream since at least that long.
Pansy said. Pansy.
Hermione hissed, cheeks flaming red as she looked around to make
sure none of their former teachers were paying attention.
Nearly everyone remaining in the box was.
Draco tossed the fabric at her. Draco.
She moaned. He simply beamed.
You agreed to it because Jinny said Gryffindor was going to
win. You can't trust someone to be
objective when their team is playing.
Potter scolded her. I also said it was the slurring
Seeker's first match. Wieselt said yes, but Pansy
laughed. Yes, the 1994 Irish World Cup
team won, even though Victor caught the snitch.
We know. Hermione turned to Draco.
Let me out of the bat, or I'll tell everyone what your
Britannus is. He considered her words for a
moment. Finally, grin spreading, he
turned to the pitch, wand raised.
Come on. Hermione groaned.
Expecto Patronum. Silver light shot from the end
of his wand. It took a moment, but when Pansy
recognized the animal, she laughed so hard she dropped into
the stance. Even the moping Gryffindors
joined in. Are you fucking lion?
Draco Malfoy's Patronus was a lion. 18 months you've been able
to do that and refuse to tell anyone, and today you decide
you're going to? Hermione demanded.
I wanted the reveal to be timed with a negative memory for them.
Draco said. Thanks for the reminder.
He nodded to the bundle of fabric in her arms.
Pay up. With an exasperated sigh,
Hermione pulled on Draco's old Quidditch jersey.
Slytherin blazed across the front in bright silver letters.
Malfoy on the back. Potter, Weasel, and Neville.
Groaned. Weasel.
It only rolled her eyes. Hermione looked like a petulant
teenager as she glared at him. Happy.
He beamed. Enough to fill the stands with
lions, he said. In fact, the more to celebrate a
Slytherin victory, the better. This is so childish, she
snapped. What did Draco have to do with
Gryffindor 1? Potter asked.
Draco smirked. Go with her to a Muggle picture
show. Weasel threw his hands up.
Hermione, you'd have to pick something equally mortifying.
He said. That's not even remotely worse.
Next time I'll make him wear your old jersey.
Oh. He and Draco said at the same
time. Hermione beamed.
Draco threw his arm around Hermione.
All right, he said. Who's ready for the Three
Broomsticks? Loyal and chivalrous to a fault.
Everyone looked at Hermione for her permission.
First round is on me, Draco said.
That made a few of them shift. Hermione rolled her eyes.
He's going to make me go anyway, so you might as well be there
too. Draco beamed.
That is the spirit. As they turned to make their
way, Professor Mcgonigal did a double take when she saw what
Hermione was wearing. An avid Quidditch fan, this had
to kill her. We bet on the match.
Hermione muttered sullenly. Good one today.
A professor? Draco asked.
She shook her head. Not at today, Mr. Malfoy, she
said. Not today.
The crowd at the Three Broomsticks grew rather unruly
quite quickly. Most of Dumbledore's Army crowd
turned up, many of them sulking. Padma, to her credit, laughed
when she saw Hermione swimming in Draco's old jersey.
Looney. Lovegood smiled.
That's nice of you to be supportive, Hermione.
She seemed to genuinely mean it. Neville made her sit on the
other end of the table from Hermione.
Finnegan groaned when he arrived and saw Pansy.
Oh, come on, Nevada. He said.
Snakes need their own table, especially today.
Pansy sat up with a smirk and turned to him, but Neville cut
her off. You've never complained about
hanging out with any of the Ravenclaws?
Go Hufflepust following those matches even when Ernie spent
all night bragging. Yeah, but they're snakes.
Pansy is my wife. Neville said.
And Draco's Protornis is a lion sore.
Finnegan spun towards him, a grin spreading across his face.
No fucking way. Then he saw Hermione, and his
smile dropped. What the fuck is that?
Under the table? Neville reached over and
squeezed her hand. She could hold her own, but for
once it felt nice not to have to.
When she glanced up at Neville, he winked at her before letting
go. Before she had a chance to miss
his touch, he wrapped his arm around her and draped it across
the back of the chair. There was plenty of room at the
table. They weren't trying to cram into
a booth or tiny love seat. It wasn't a necessary gesture,
it was just a casual show of affection.
Belonging. It softened something inside
her. He tapped her shoulder and she
glanced up. This OK?
He mouthed. She nodded with a small smile
and he beamed. Draco finally gave in and casted
his protonus again, only to send it off to Theo and Blaise to
invite them to join them. He sent a second one to Daphne
and sat down with a smug smirk. Astoria surprised them all by
coming with her sister. She got mixed up at the other
end of the table with Looney and a couple of the younger DA
members, including the younger Creevy brother.
Neville nursed his drinks throughout the evening, only
having two by her count. Despite his misery at the loss,
he seemed to relax more around his friends, his laughter easy
and carefree. His arm stayed around her most
of the evening. When it wasn't, he held her hand
under the table or rested his hand on her thigh.
The idle touches on the back of her neck or her leg were driving
her almost to distraction. She sipped her wine, trying to
keep her cool as Neville's fingers slowly, casually, and
unintentionally drove her mad. He never seemed to hesitate to
show physical affection to any of his friends and he was being
open and free with it to her that evening any time they were
intimate. However, she was always bound or
restrained in some way from touching him back.
Was it her or non platonic touch in general?
For once she wanted to be the one to use her hands and lips
and tongue to repay the favour and to make him lose his mind.
Once it was clear no amount of dinner was going to sober most
of them up, they started to clear out.
The three members of the Golden trio had to be escorted home by
their partners, each one in no state to apparate.
Thanks for bringing us Nevada. Wieselt said, giving him a hug.
Anytime he said. Wieselt turned to her and nodded
once. Pansy, thank you for the
cookbook, by the way. A small, surprised smile
brightened her look of not quite suspicion.
Yeah, of course, she said. I've been meaning to Al.
Daphne, I'll do that sometime this week.
I'll tell her to look out for it.
Neville beamed like they'd just made a pact of eternal
friendship. Jenny slung her husband's arm
over her shoulders. All right, Potter, let's get you
home. He made her wear his jersey
chin. He moaned.
She patted him on the shoulder. I know.
It was truly terrible, wasn't it?
I would never make you do that. Jinny glanced back at the two of
them, smirking ear to ear. Thank God, Rick, she said.
I don't think I could live down the mortification of having to
wear a jersey with Potter across the back.
Neville took on the role of apparating anyone home who
didn't have a partner to escort them, popping in and out of the
Three Broomsticks until it was only Pansy left.
Ready. He asked with an easy smile,
Nodding. She followed him back to his
home, hands hanging close but never touching.
Well, that sucked. He said when they got inside.
There's always next year, so long as Fernsby pulls his head
out of his ass. He got himself a glass of water
and surprised her by handing it to her first before getting
himself one. It didn't escape her notice that
he held it so their hands wouldn't have to brush as he
passed it to her because they were alone or something else.
So what's your thing with people touching you?
His hand froze halfway to lifting his glass to his mouth.
I didn't realise I had one. I know you like your partner's
restraint, but it obviously wasn't that way with Hannah.
She said so. Unless she was your pillow
Princess, and respect to her if she was, I assume she got to
touch you. Neville strode towards her, his
steps slow and deliberate. The easy, carefree atmosphere
from before was changed so something thick and ripe with
possibility. Do you want to touch me, Pansy?
Fuck, how could he turn her on just like that?
Go from Neville fucking Longbottom to Neville fucking
Longbottom. I want to know why you don't
want me to touch you. His lips lifted as if he heard
more in that non answer than there was.
I wouldn't say that's true. Then what is it?
A shadow of something crossed his face.
Maybe I wanted to be the first man who gave you what you needed
without demanding something in return.
A snort escaped her. That's what this had been about,
fucking Gryffindor's chivalry. Don't let my fucked up history
with Draco confuse you. She said.
Aside from him, I have never given a man an orgasm without
first getting my own. His eyes darted over her face.
She wished she could read the expression there.
I've enjoyed the way things are between us.
You wouldn't enjoy my hands or my mouth around your cock.
His nostrils flared and he stepped back just a hair.
Fuck, Pansy. Well, since you're making me
wait to do that. She started to lower herself to
her knees, but Neville caught her.
She'd never seen a man so conflicted.
Pansy, stop, he said. We can do whatever you want
tonight. You don't have to do that.
Was he seriously turning down a blowjob?
You don't want me to do it? Or is this some fucked up
Gryffindor chivalry at work? His hands tightened on her arms.
I know women don't like doing that.
She burst out laughing. Oh, Mung Bottom, you've been
dating the wrong women. He frowned at that, but she
wasn't done. Tell me, do you enjoy eating me
out? His lips lifted to a grin that
was almost predatory. You think I'd spend as long as I
do edging you if I didn't? And you don't think I could feel
the same? He watched her, his gaze
conflicted. Fine, she'd play his way.
Oh, I'm going about this wrong, aren't I?
She pushed off his hands, and Gryffindor gentleman that he
was, he immediately dropped her and stepped back.
So she went to her knees in front of him, lacing her arms
behind her back and staring up at him.
His nostrils flared. Pansy, please let me suck your
cock. She said.
His pupils blew wide and his throat bobbed as he swallowed
hard. She was supposed to be turning
him on, but something about this was working for her too.
Please tell me I've been your good girl and let me suck your
cock until you come down my throat.
Being down on her knees begging him to give her a blowjob should
have been humiliating. Should have made her feel weak
and pathetic and everything she'd tried to avoid her entire
life. Instead, all she felt was
powerful, That she knew exactly how to get him desperate for
her. She might be the one on her
knees begging, but she had all the power in her grasp.
Or come wherever or however you want.
Just please, let me taste you. His breath caught.
Fuck, he breathed. Yes, do it.
Grinning up at him, she reached up to undo his belt.
She caught glimpses of his cock often enough, but usually only
when she was half delirious with bliss.
This was her time to see it in its full glory, and her mouth
immediately watered because of course Neville fucking
Longbottom would have a perfect cock, long and thick, just shy
of being unmanageable in either dimension.
She wrapped her fingers around the base and licked a long line
up to the already weeping tip. She glanced up at him as she
wrapped her lips around the tip and sucked it like it was a
lolly. His eyes rolled and his head
dropped back. No woman ever made it to 24
remaining a virgin without being a complete prude or getting
really good at giving blowjobs. Pansy Parkinson had been called
many things, but a prude was never one of them.
She knew exactly how to touch and lick and suck and kiss, to
bring a man right to the edge and keep him there, finally give
Longbottom some of the payback he'd so richly deserved.
His hands clenched and fisted, as if he was restraining himself
from grabbing her head and fucking her mouth.
The man had probably never gone this long without fucking
anything but his hand since he lost his virginity, pulling off
him with a long, deep suck. Longbottom gasped.
She lifted his hands and put them on her head.
Fuck my mouth. He barely touched her.
Pansy. She tapped his thigh twice,
hard. I'll do that if I need you to
stop, she said. Fuck my mouth.
She took him back into her mouth, but didn't do anything
else. He gave the smallest hint of an
experimental thrust. She arched an eyebrow to ask, as
if that was the best he could do.
Something shifted in his gaze, and there it was.
The dark, predatory gleam was back in his eyes.
Anticipation coiled in her core. Hand tightening in her hair, he
thrust again, right up to the point she might gag, before he
pulled back. Leaving one hand on his thigh,
she wrapped the other around his base, twisting and squeezing in
time with his thrusts. Groaning, he pounded into her
over and over again, words tumbling from his mouth.
Yes, Bansi, fuck, just like that.
Good, so fucking good. Even as he lost himself in
fucking her mouth, he never pushed too hard, too far, right
to the edge where she was nearly gagging but never quite over.
Watching him come completely undone, hearing the desperation
in his voice breaking his tightly held control.
She'd never been so turned on just from sucking someone off.
Stop me if you don't want to swallow, otherwise, fuck.
As he teetered on the edge, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked
with a gasp. He was coming, gripping her hair
so tightly tears sprang into her eyes.
He didn't let go until he finally stopped with A1 last
shudder. Panting, his grip loosened into
a gentle hold. Fucking hell.
He whispered. He moaned again as she sucked
and licked him clean before ticking him back into his pants
and zipping up his trousers. That was.
She smirked up at him as he struggled for words.
Still prefer me with my hands tied.
You wouldn't need your hands to do that.
Fuck, that sounded hot from the look on his face.
He agreed. She smirked up at him.
Now you'll forever associate Slytherin beaten Gryffindor with
that experience. His expression of bliss
immediately turned into a glare. You are such a brat.
Her smirk spread. Maybe I'll promise you that
every year Slytherin beats Gryffindor.
He tensed, right as she realised what she'd said.
There wouldn't be an every year, because this wasn't real.
Not a real marriage, not even a real relationship.
There wouldn't be a next year. They'd be divorced long before
that. Recovering.
She flashed him a grin. If we're both single, obviously.
His expression was unreadable. You'd do that?
I think it'll torture you even more next year when you aren't
getting it from me on the regular.
You want Gryffindor to win, but you know that if Slytherin does,
I'll suck you off there. She'd managed to save it.
He rolled his eyes, but there was an almost hint of relief
there. Fine.
It wasn't like she wanted this anyway, either.
He was just a means to an end, and they might as well have fun
along the way. Mall, right?
He said. My turn.
She frowned. You just, oh, oh.
Before she could blink, he swept her up and carried her into the
bedroom with a grin that told her she was just about to regret
the way she'd just teased him. And she couldn't fucking wait.