The Right by Parks and Fiction, Chapter 24 Hermione spun the
giddiest Pansy had ever seen her while trying on clothes.
Trousers. You made me trousers.
The Ministry was insufferably old fashioned.
Pansy was determined to change that, and Hermione Granger was
going to help her do it. While even the most elite
purebloods accepted witches wearing trousers for casual or
non social occasions, it was still expected that women wear
skirts or dresses in all other circumstances.
That mindset had influenced the Ministry for far too long.
There was no rule, no formal obligation, but the social
pressure was enough that a woman wouldn't be taken seriously
unless she was dressed in the expected manner.
Unless she was the Golden girl. Hermione Granger, close personal
friend and heir apparent of the Minister of Magic, Kingsley
Shacklebolt. Hermione alone could have gotten
away with it, but to change the Ministry itself, Pansy first
needed to make Hermione follow all the rules and establish
herself as a fashion icon. Then, when Hermione broke the
rules, everyone else would follow as well.
The older set would be scandalised, but it was nearly
impossible to speak out against Hermione Granger without
ostracizing yourself. Within the year, Pansy predicted
that there would be more women in trousers at the Ministry than
not. Not only would Pansy mastermind
the change, she was the only designer aware of and prepared
for it. Shame no one else was taking the
time to study Muggle designs. They'd have to start from
scratch, figuring out the best types of trousers to flatter a
woman's physique while Pansy was busy selling out her stock.
There's more than one way to change the world, Grainger.
Popular opinion was as important as legislation.
Have I told you lately how much I adore you?
Hermione asked. I told you the very first time I
showed up at your offices that you needed me.
She'd been talking about clothes then as well.
Hermione rolled her eyes, but didn't stop smiling.
Now that Hermione was finally standing still, Pansy set to
work sharpening the hem of the trousers.
While I have you here, I think we need to revisit the terms of
your exclusivity contract with me.
Hermione shook her head. I told you I'm not going to stop
wearing muggle clothes entirely. She said.
Weekends at home and when I'm in the Muggle world are still my
time. She smirked, worried.
I won't let you have your precious muggle denims anymore.
They're my favorite. She scoffed.
Your favorite is how much you like Draco checking out your ass
when you wear them. Her cheeks turned a predictable
shade of pink. You should get a pair and see
how Neville responds. Neville, who hadn't touched her
since Christmas, who no longer seemed to know how to act around
her. The man ran so hot and cold and
she didn't know what to do with him.
If this fucked up him performing the damned right, she wasn't
going to let herself think about what would happen to her if he
decided not to do it at all. Instead, she smirked at her
friend. I've seen how much work it is to
get those things on and off. She said.
I prefer the accessible nature of skirts.
As one did when they had to quickly take advantage of their
husband's interest before his morals spoke louder than his
horniness. Fucking Gryffindors.
Or not, as the case may be. She waved that thought off.
But no, I'm talking about the number of designers sending you
packages. Hermione's head snapped from
talking to her reflection in the mirrors to face her fully.
Who told you that? Pansy simply smiled.
She sighed. I haven't ordered anything.
She said. They've just been sending me
free things, all of which you sent back right away.
Hermione turned back to the mirror and began adjusting her
shirt. It's not just professional
attire. Pansy crossed her arms.
Exclusivity means exclusivity, Hermione.
She continued playing with her shirt, the slightest hint of a
smirk playing across her face. And some of them aren't even
real outfits, just mock ups. This was worse than she'd
feared. For what?
Hermione pressed her lips together when she caught Pansy's
look in the mirror. Her lips twitched.
Wedding and bridesmaid dresses? What the fuck?
In two steps, she jumped on the platform and had her wand
pressed to Hermione's throat. Distantly, over the roaring in
her ears, she heard a small commotion outside the shop, but
she couldn't care less. I know you're going to ask
Wieselt to be your major of honour and that I might not even
be a bridesmaid, but if you fucking dare allow anyone else
to design any of the robes for your wedding.
Her threat was cut off by a loud bang and a flash of light.
Expelliarmus. Her one shot out of her hand as
Hermione flew up from the side table.
Incarcerous. Thick ropes caught her as she
reeled from the blast of the force of the Expelliarmus.
Rather than supporting her or stopping her fall, they lashed
her limbs to her body. She crashed to the ground,
smashing her elbow and hip into the floor, barely managing to
keep her head aloft enough to not crack it open.
Ron Weasley stood over her, wand pointed directly at her, while
Harry Potter ran over to Hermione, brandishing his wand.
What the hell? Hermione spluttered.
No, you hurt. Potter demanded.
Oh my God. Hermione gasped.
Ron didn't look up from where he glared at Pansy.
We saw Earth threatening you. Pansy burst out laughing.
Perhaps the wand at Hermione's throat had been a bit much, but
the thought that she would or could hurt Hermione was
ridiculous. Hermione yanked her wand out of
Potter's grasp, elbowing him sharply, and marched over to
undo Weasley's spell. Pansy rubbed her hands and
forearms, trying to restore circulation to them.
Merlin, Weasel, she said. What are you trying to prove?
Hermione helped her to her feet. Pansy straightened her clothes
as Hermione rounded on her two friends.
She'd leave her in charge of that.
No point getting knocked down or tied up twice, Not when it was
someone other than Neville doing it again.
I ask. Hermione demanded, sparks
practically flying from her massive curls.
What the hell was that? Potter and Weasel looked more
than a little put out that they hadn't been the saviours they
were clearly intending to be. We were on duty.
In Diagon Alley last. Night, and when we walked by the
shop, we saw Pansy threatening you.
Potter said your shift ended 40 minutes ago.
Oh my God. Hermione's glare increased.
Are you 2 checking up on me? Their faces tightened.
Hermione marched towards Potter and he scrambled.
Where's the cloak, Harry? I don't know what you're ow.
Hermione jabbed him in the side with her wand.
When he flinched towards the side, she stuck her hand into
the other pocket. He stopped her before she could
yank out the rest of the garment, but Hermione had
clearly seen enough. I can't believe you, 2.
Hermione seized. First of all, after the number
of times I've saved both of your sorry asses, she had her.
Wand at your. Throat Weasel snapped.
Yeah, because I was teasing her about something I knew would
piss her off, she snapped. I didn't see you 2 disarming or
restraining Jinny 2 weeks ago when I was making those
quidditch jokes and she. Tried to destroy.
My dining room. Potter's face tightened.
Jinny wouldn't hurt you. Hermione's hand flung wide,
almost striking Pansy in the face in her rage.
Neither would Pansy. She's my friend too.
Yeah, Ron scoffed. So good.
A friend. That she's trying to come.
Between Nevada and all his, Hermione whipped out her wand on
him so fast he let out a tiny squeak of terror.
Start that fight with me, Ronald Weasley, She spat.
Start that fight right fucking now.
Potter started to approach her like she was a wild animal.
My, don't you dare, she seethed. I'm not going through this shite
with you 2 again. I did it once with Draco, and
that was enough. Figure it out.
Potter crossed his arms. We're fine with Draco, yeah?
Weasel said, shooting Pansy a sharp glare.
He's. Apologised.
Hermione smiled at him in such a way that the blood drained from
his face and he took a step back.
The way you apologised for attacking an innocent woman?
She asked. It was hard to tell who was more
furious with her. Innocent.
Weasel spat. Enough, Hermione yelled.
Apologise and get out. I'll deal with you 2 later.
Sorry, Myony. Weasel muttered.
Potter crossed his arms. Yeah, sorry for overreacting to
someone pointing A lethal weapon at your throat.
Not to me. She snapped.
Both of them glared at her like she'd just promised their first
born children to a manticore camp.
Her eyebrows shot up. Potter broke first.
Sorry for overreacting, Pansy. Weasel crossed his arms.
Ron, it's fine. Potter muttered.
Weasel gave his best friend a long look before he turned to
her. Sorry for tying you up.
He said. I promise I won't do it next
time. As far as apologies went, it was
rather subpar. Hermione clearly agreed.
Ronald Weasley. Pansy laid her hand on her arm.
It's OK, Hermione, she said. They've just come off a long
shift. And how he's been working ever
so hard to find you ever attacked my shop?
She gave them both a benevolent smile.
I accept both your apologies, and I promise I won't file the
report to the DMLE about inappropriate use of excessive
force. Their glares only increased.
Hermione muttered under her breath.
Just as Weasel opened his big mouth, she pushed them out.
Now you've done enough. With one last glare in Pansy's
direction, they slunk towards the door.
Writers. Potter was pushing it open.
Pansy called out. Do you give my love to Jinny?
His knuckles tightened. Then he stormed out and
apparated away with a crack, immediately followed by Weasel.
Hermione sighed. Why do you always do that?
Send love to the woman who would have been her stepmother.
Pansy turned towards her and crossed her arms.
And did you learn an important lesson about pissing me off
today? Merlin, She muttered.
I'm going to kill them. Fine with her.
And who will be the one doing your wedding robes?
She rolled her eyes. Of course it's going to be you,
Pansy. Good.
Hermione shifted. And I'd like for you to be a
bridesmaid too. She said.
The only reason I haven't asked yet is because Draco and I have
been arguing over which of us you'd stand up with.
Pansy froze, a lump filling her throat.
She had no idea Draker would have even thought of her, that
he and Hermione both wanted her standing with them at their
wedding. Pansy cleared her throat.
How horribly modern. She said.
You're a terrible influence on him.
Hermione beamed. I love you too, Pansy.
All right, back up. She shewed her up onto the stand
once more to start over on the hem.
Regardless of who wins, you'll need to have a wedding party
outfit. Hermione said.
She let out a sigh. Nothing that clashes with red
hair, I suppose. Hermione let out an amused hoof.
No, that's fine. She smirked up at her friend.
Wiesett and I both look incredible in emerald.
Hermione's head dropped back as she cackled.
You would, wouldn't you? Depends on the season, honestly.
She probably would go with a shade of purple, but it was more
fun to think about forcing those 3 Gryffindors into Slytherin
colours. Any decisions on their date yet?
No, and I'm not pushing. She said.
I'm happy with a long engagement.
She looked up from the hem of the trousers.
I assumed Draco would be the one pushing you.
A touch of guilt filled her eyes.
I think he's still hoping his mum will come around.
Fancy wondered if Draco was playing it wrong.
His mother probably saw the lack of date as a lack of commitment.
Still, it was their life to figure out.
Narcissa would come around eventually, or she wouldn't.
Well, whatever you do, don't look at venues without me.
Pansy said. Hermione grinned.
Wouldn't dream of it. Pansy was never more thankful
for Slytherin night as when they arrived the next night, now that
he knew, she saw his parents four times a week since they
started styling Alice's hair before tea as well, so she
looked her best for when they all visited.
Neville was particularly awkward those days.
It wasn't as if she made it easy on him.
He'd stumble through a few awkward questions about her day,
fishing for information in a way that was deliberately obtuse
about, until he finally asked directly if she'd gone to scent
Mungo's and how his parents were.
Yes, and fine were all she ever said.
Then he'd go all quiet and bumble around for the rest of
the evening, reminding her far more of the awkward boy she knew
at school than the confident man who liked to tie witches up and
spank them into screaming orgasms.
One of which sounded rather nice right about now.
She needed a drink and to win a bucket of galleons off Theo or
Blaise or even Draco. It was mostly about the
galleons, and maybe a little about humiliating someone.
She wasn't picky about which one.
Sipping her fire whiskey, she waited as Blaze dealt the first
hand. How's the shop, Pansy?
Theo cast the first bet, still raking in the galleons,
profiteering off our golden girl.
The name is Apartment. Hermione rolled her eyes, calmed
down a bit since Christmas. There was nowhere to go and
nothing to do in January. February 2 would be slow.
Maybe next year she'd do something special for
Valentine's Day. She'd been toying with the idea
of adding a lingerie line. Modelling her designs for
Neville would certainly be fun. A bitter taste filled her mouth
when she remembered Neville would be back with Hannah by
next Valentine's Day. She washed it down with a sip of
her drink. Draco snorted.
You can't call yesterday calm. He said.
How are you holding up? Oh, this was going to be fun.
She let out a long sigh, still a little shaken, but OK.
Draco shook his head. The nerve of those two ice.
Were Neville sat up. What are you talking about?
He said. What happened at the?
Shop Does Ari know? Everyone, even Theo and Blaze
gaped at him. Pansy.
Hermione said, her tone scandalised.
You didn't tell him? Neville's head whipped to hers
so fast he was lucky it didn't snap.
She made a show of moving the cards in her hand around.
Merlin, it was so hard not to smirk right now.
No, she said, voice quiet. I didn't tell me what Neville
demanded. She flicked her Ives up to his
and then back to her cards. Hermione was in for her weekly
fitting yesterday morning. They took place on Thursday
mornings, an hour before the shop opened up because being on
time to work for Hermione Granger and arriving a full hour
early. She started teasing me so I
pulled my wand on her. Pansy continued.
I obviously wasn't going to hurt her, but I didn't realise Potter
and Weasley were hiding under Potter's cloak right outside the
shop. Neville, bless his heart, still
assuming the best of his friends.
Were they staking it out in case?
The attacker came back. Did they get another tip?
Draco looked at him with all the familiar patronising contempt
from school. They were tailing Pansy, a
muscle in his. Jaw twitched.
Why? Pansy propped her chin up and
turned to Draco and Hermione. Do they tail you 2 when you're
together? Draco smirked.
Not anymore. Hermione turned bright red.
Theo snorted. But Weasel regretted that
decision rather quickly. Draco smirk turned smug.
I believe Potter was the one particularly scarred by the
experience. Hermione dropped deeper into her
chair, muttering something Pansy didn't quite catch.
Neville set his cards down on the table and turned to her,
game forgotten. Why were they tailing you?
Because I was with Hermione and they needed to assure her
safety. Idiots.
Hermione muttered. They burst into the shop,
disarmed Pansy, and tied her up. Everyone else in the room missed
it, but she could feel the moment Neville went prey to
naturally still what? His tone had the sharp crisp of
a command that sent a thrill down her spine.
Be honest, is it actually the only spell Potter knows?
Pansy asked. Hermione.
I know he used it to defeat the Dark Lord twice, but I just need
to know that his duelling skills didn't peak in second year after
one soul lesson from Gilderoy Lockhart.
Hermione's eyes narrowed. Harry.
Disarmed you and Ron tied. You up?
The undisguised ire in Neville's voice drew everyone's eyes.
Pansy didn't look up from her cards, knocked me off my feet,
wrapped me in ropes from head to toe.
She placed a bet on the table for the game no one else was
paying attention to any more. Did not pause a heartbeat for
mercy. Her word choice had the exact
impact she'd meant. Neville shoved himself back from
the table and stormed from the room.
Moments later, they heard him call out for grim old place.
And the whoosh of the flu. Pansy let her smirk finally slip
as her friends all turned to stare at her.
Everyone else had given up on the game, so she pretended she'd
won and collected all the bets. Thank bloody Merlin, Hermione
muttered. Draco arched a brow at her as
Pansy gathered up all the cards. I have spent the past 14 years
trying to keep those two idiots in line.
She said. None of you have any idea the
relief it is to finally have someone help.
Pansy shuffled the deck with a snap.
Maybe you would have had some help earlier if you hadn't put
him in a bloody bind first year when he did try to keep those
idiots in line. Hermione gaped at her.
We had to save the Sorcerer's Stone from quarrel, she said.
Otherwise, Voldemort would have come back three years earlier
than he did. Actually, the three of you going
down there gave Quirrell's plan its highest chance of success.
She said Potter was the one who got the Stone out of the mirror.
Quirrell would have been stuck there trying to figure it out
until Dumbledore came back. Her mouth opened and shut a few
times like a gaping fish. Pansy patted her hand.
There, there, she said. We all make mistakes as children
and they got bloody rewarded for it and stole the house cup from
underneath us. Theo muttered.
Hermione straightened with a bit of a smug smirk.
Well, if Draco hadn't tackled on us.
Draco rounded on her. The rampant favouritism that
you, Potter and Weasel received in school.
Favouritism. Hermione demanded.
Someone was constantly trying to kill us.
He scoffed. And constantly is a bit of an
exaggeration, children. Theo clapped once.
Both Hermione and Draco turned towards him, blinking as if
they'd forgotten everyone else was in the room.
Please save the foreplay for your own home.
He said. Hermione turned pink.
We're having a discussion. He snorted.
Sure. He said.
Like we all don't know. Exactly.
That's how you 2 get off. Her blush deepened.
Can we go back to cards now? Their teasing continued through
multiple hands before they finally heard the rush of the
flu. I was starting to worry.
Hermione muttered. Neville stormed back into the
card room, hare mussed and cheeks Ruddy.
He was breathing heavily and looked ready to RIP someone
apart. Pansy wanted to get on her knees
and lick every disgruntled inch of him.
Neville turned to Theo and Blaze.
I apologise for my abrupt. Departure.
He glanced at her. What happened is not.
Going to happen again. He said stay as long as you
want, I'll meet you at home. Without another word, he spun
and marched back towards the flu parlour.
Pansy couldn't help her smirk as her four friends turned towards
her. She reached to collect the bets,
but Blaze slapped her hand. She yanked it back.
Ouch. She leaned back in her chair.
Nerve. The sound of the whooshing flue
cut her off. She pouted.
Theo chuckled. Like we all don't know exactly
what gets you off to Pansy. She tossed down her cards and
gathered up her actual winnings, leaving the bets in the middle
of the table. I have no idea what you're
talking about, she said. But if you'll excuse me, I
should go and check and see if my husband is OK.
Card Knight. Used to be sacred.
Before all you partnered up, Theo said.
Yeah. Draco drawled.
Really missed the days of Blaze trying to pretend he wasn't
pining over you while you pretended you didn't notice
either. Pansy blew Hermione a kiss
before she swept out of the room after Neville.
You. Wouldn't know anything about
pretending. Not to pine for someone.
Would you? Blaze drolled, still smirking to
herself. Pansy stepped into the fireplace
and called out Neville's cottage.
Neville was sitting on the couch, head in his hands.
He raised his head as if to confirm it was her, and then
dropped his head into his hands. You should go back.
He muttered. You're.
Going to have a lot more fun there.
Not if she had her way. How were the Potters this
evening? He dug his hands through his
hair. I should have listened to you,
he said. You said it was going to get
worse and. I thought, how the foot, could
it get any worse? She dropped next to him on the
couch and rested her elbow on the back of the couch to prop up
her chin. Are you OK?
He asked, his voice haunted. Aside from the sore hip, which
had faded in a few hours, they hadn't hurt her, and they had
been rather cathartic to watch Grainger go after them.
Regardless, She was so fucking sick of fighting about the
Potters and Weaseleys. All she wanted was for Neville
to snog her senseless and then do something utterly depraved to
get as many orgasms out of her as possible.
She gave him a small smile. Oh, she said.
You know, I don't actually mind getting tied up.
A look of disbelief crossed his face.
Not like that. She stared off in the corner of
the room with a dreamy expression.
Right, that raw, animalistic. Throw me down.
And she broke off and cleared her throat, glancing back at
him. It does nothing for me, she said
as unconvincingly as possible. His eyes narrowed.
What are you doing? You're right, she said.
I should calm down. She tapped her chin with a
thoughtful expression. Maybe I'll draw a bath, pour in
some oils, and take a nice long soak.
She could practically hear Neville's teeth grinding.
She trailed her fingers down her neck to play with the collar of
her dress. Do whatever it takes to keep my
mind off just how quickly Weasel conjured those ropes.
Bansi stop it. Neville said, his voice in near
growl. She blinked at him.
I'm sorry, Neville, did you say something?
You are such a brat. He said through clenched teeth.
She smirked at him. Are you going to do something
about that? You were attacked yesterday.
She shrugged and rose. That's fine, she said.
Let my most recent memory of getting tied up be Ronald
Weasley. It works for me either way.
It does not, he snapped. She spun and.
Smirked. You don't know that, though, do
you? His expression hardened.
You need to stop. Do I need to stop?
She asked. Or do I need to keep going?
Bansi, I'm already. Worked up enough as it's.
She let her gaze drift towards his crotch.
How worked up. He rose with the familiar
predatory gleam that made her weak.
In the knees, stop talking. He stormed towards her.
She backed up with a smirk. Oh what?
He strode after her until he had a pinned against the wall.
Or I will make you. Hmm.
She said as he towered above her, using his height as if he
could scare her into submission. She certainly wanted him to try
not into being gagged. She smirked up at him.
Plus then you wouldn't be able to hear me beg, and I know how
much you love that. Fuck.
The world was little more than a growl, her heart speed up the
moment she saw the glint of determination settle.
Pansy, I need to know I can trust you.
He might as well have dumped a cold bucket of water over her.
Turning her head, she was about to shove him away when he
grabbed her chin and forced her gaze to meet his.
It's a safe. Word, he said.
I need to know I can trust you. It's a safe word because I'm
worried that once this starts I won't be able to stop unless.
You do. A thrill of anticipation shot
down her spine. I don't want you to stop.
He inhaled a sharp breath. Promise.
Me, he ordered. She grinned.
I promise I don't want you to stop.
Ponzi. He said through gritted teeth.
Reaching up, she cupped his cheek with her hand.
A brief shudder went down his body.
He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand.
She ran her thumb across his cheek.
I promise I'll safe word if I need it.
Turning his hair depressed a kiss to her palm, a rare moment
of tenderness that made her soften and want him all the
more. But that wasn't what this was
supposed to be. Stepping forward so their chests
were flush, she leaned in to whisper in his ear.
And I promise to beg for every touch, but only if you earn it
first. Any sense of calm she'd managed
to restore in him disappeared. His eyes glinted with his own
dark. Promise.
Take off your dress. It was a command, short and
fierce, one that demanded no disagreement.
So naturally she disobeyed. No, no.
She pressed her palms against the wall.
No. Pansy, take off your dress or I
will RIP it off your body after I tie you to my bed.
Exactly what she'd been fucking hoping for.
No, she shrieked as he grabbed her around the waist, tossed her
over his shoulder, and marched towards his bedroom.
Almost as soon as she was tossed down, his wand was out and the
ropes flew from it, binding her wrists and ankles to the fore
posts. Rotating her wrist, she tested
the slack on one of them. What?
Neville snarled in the process of rolling up his sleeves.
The veins in his forearms bulged as he fixed to the second one.
Sweet Salazar, he hadn't even touched her yet and she was
already dripping for him. It's just wheeze.
These ropes were so much tighter.
With a flick of his wand, the ropes snapped, removing almost
any slack from the line and rendering her completely
immobile on the bed. Neville leaned down over her,
his body covering hers. I do.
Not want to hear you? Say his name again You.
Can't blame me for comparing. This is almost how things
started, yes. Before she could continue, his
lips crashed down on hers in a punishing kiss.
His lips were rough, demanding, brutal.
She wanted to wrap her arms and legs around him, force him to be
as close to her in every possible way.
The rope stopped her from moving a single inch, so she was
helpless to do anything more than try to meet him in the
kiss. He broke away, lips trailing
across her jaw line. They weren't gentle kisses, but
hard, fierce bites and sucks. As he moved to show the other
side of her neck the same treatment, she realized what he
was doing, marking her. She sucked in a sharp breath as
he bit down especially hard. He kissed the spot and sat back.
You drive me fucking insane. Panting, she watched him sit
back. She could say the same.
Raising his wand, he slid it down the first inches of the
neckline of her dress, slicing A2 inch cut.
Before she could ask what the point of that was, he tossed his
wand to the side and grabbed her neckline.
With the flecks of his shoulders, he ripped her dress
halfway to her navel. Fuck, three more tears and he'd
ripped it straight down the front.
His chest heaved as he stared down at her.
No one else. His voice was a low growl.
I said. No one else.
And you promised. Those words, combined with the
possessive way he looked at her, made her stomach flip.
He started pressing the same fierce kisses across her chest,
marking her all along the place where her bra met her skin.
It didn't take long before he had his wand back out, slicing
her bra in two. His ministrations made her
squirm, or made her want a squirm since he had her tied
down so tight she couldn't move. Neville, please.
She yelped as he bit down and sucked on the underside of her
breast. Fuck, she gasped.
That's right. He said.
You're going to lie there and take it because you are making
me lose my fucking mind. He slid almost completely off
her body and began kissing his way up her knees, marking every
few inches as he pleased. When he was done, her body was
going to be riddled with tiny bruises.
His mouth neared the apex of her thighs.
She regretted ever teasing him about the ropes because she was
completely immobile and he was so fucking close and if she
could just move an inch to the right.
She nearly sobbed as he drew away and started making his way
up her other leg. Please, Neville.
He gave a low moan of satisfaction.
Oh. I fucking love.
Hearing you beg. She groaned as he marked a trail
of love bites up the inside of her thigh.
He pulled away and she almost screamed her frustration.
He towered over her gaze, hot and furious.
Promise me. She tried to twist her way out
of the ropes, but they were immovable.
What? She'd promise him anything if he
just kept going. But.
There's no. One else.
The heated, possessive look in his eyes cracked something in
her chest. There isn't.
His hands slid between her thighs, swirling but not quite
giving her what she needed. Promise me there won't.
Be that thing that she kept locked away started to make
itself known for her own sanity. She needed to stop this.
I promise. He started kissing down her
neck. Not as long as we're together,
she added. She felt him freeze for several
heartbeats. Maybe he'd walk away, but both
of them needed the reminder that this was temporary.
There would be no misunderstanding based on
something she'd said in the heat of the moment.
Neville kissed his way back down her body, marking it as he went
with a renewed fervor. This time, he didn't stop.
When he reached the inside of her thighs, his tongue found her
clit, swirling and licking and sucking in the pattern that had
her orgasm barrelling towards her in seconds.
He didn't pause his ministrations, and all she could
do was lay there and take it as her orgasm crashed over her
fucking. Merlin, she'd missed that,
missed the way only he could make her feel.
Even as she came down from the high, he didn't let up.
Despite her oversensitized flesh, she'd felt a second one
building. Neville, stop.
He lifted his head just enough to give her a wicked smile.
I know you can take more than he was back at it, making her
vision grow black as her second orgasm built and exploded over
her body. She sobbed as he kissed her
thigh, body weak and spent from the force of how hard she'd just
come. Twice I need.
You to take one more. He said she almost cried no.
Be a good. Girl and beg for it.
No, she said, but her voice hardly sounded reassuring.
He'd started kissing her again, just enough to tease, but not
enough to take her over. Fuck.
She gasped. Beg.
He was torturing her, taking her to the edge and holding her
there. She was so sensitive it almost
hurt, but so desperate for him to take her over the edge and
terrified of 1/3 mind blowing orgasm.
He won in the end. He always did.
Please beg, please make me cum, the words babbled out of her.
Please, Neville, please, good girl.
Fuck, she almost sobbed. He returned his attentions to
her clit, increasing the force and pressure building her orgasm
until it crashed over. Her.
Pleasure exploded from her core, washing over her until she was
shaking and sobbing. He guided her through it until
she finally sagged back into bed, spent, Gasping for breath,
she stared at the ceiling as she heard him undo his belt.
She was grateful she was tied to the bed because she wasn't
capable of any movement. Then she felt him dragging
himself through her folds and she froze.
Neville. He froze at the panic in her
voice and immediately pulled back.
Fuck. He threw himself back,
scrambling away from her and dropping his head into his
hands. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
It should scare her, how easily he could overpower her, what the
implications of that would be. What did scare her was how much
she trusted him that it would never come to that.
Neville, untie me. He launched forward, grabbing
his wand and slicing the ropes right above her wrist.
Merlin Bansi, I'm so sorry. She pressed a hand to his chest
and he dropped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling with
no small amount of self disgust. Well, she could fix that.
Fucking Merlin, I I can't. Believe I Fuck.
He sat up, holding himself up by his elbows as she took him in
her mouth and swirled her tongue and sucked exactly the way that
made him lose his mind. His pupils had blown so wide
that his eyes were nearly black. Bansit.
Stop, he said. You don't have to do that I.
She pumped him in a long stroke that cut off his words in a deep
groan. Do you really want me to stop?
She asked. Oh, do you want to tell me what
a good girl I am for sucking your cock like no one else ever
has? His expression darkened.
Reaching down, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and brought
her face back down towards his Dick.
She took him as deep as she could without gagging and used
her hand to work the base. Fuck.
He groaned again. He kept his grip on her hair,
firm but not painful from the way his hips thrusted, pushing
her just to her limit but never passed, he was hovering on the
edge of control. Yes.
He hissed. Just like that.
Keep going. Fuck Bansie.
So fucking good. His rambling praises curled
around her, warming her chest and making her heart race.
Watching you tip my cock is the best fucking thing I've ever
seen, he said. Such a good girl, she hollowed
out her. Cheeks sucking hard before she
lifted her head. He.
Groaned the moment her mouth left him.
Do you want me to swallow? From the way he'd marked her,
maybe he wanted her painted in his.
Come again. His grip on her hair tightened.
I want you to take every. Last drop I give you.
She flashed him a grin before she went right back to work.
Yes. He hissed.
Good girl. His hips.
Began to thrust a little more each time she went down.
I fucking swear to you Pansy, as soon as we get this damn right
figured out, I'm going to make you pay every single time about
to come on you instead of in you.
She lifted her head. Do you promise?
His only response was 1/2 moan, half growl.
She swirled her tongue and then hollowed her cheeks, sucking as
hard as she could until he burst in her mouth.
The salty, bitter taste hit her tongue, and she did what he'd
ordered and swallowed every last drop until he'd collapsed back
onto the bed, panting. With one last soft kiss, she
crawled up next to him, curling into his chest.
After a moment, he looked over her, admiring his handiwork.
A gleam of appreciation filled his eyes.
Fuck, Pansy, She was ready whenever he was going to stop
stalling. She held out her wrists, still
bound in the ropes even though they weren't tied to anything.
Can I take these off anytime soon?
Guilt took the place of appreciation, and he sat up.
Fuck. He grabbed his wand and vanished
the ropes. Holding her hands, he started to
rub them. She smiled as he shifted into
the soft pampering portion of the.
Evening. I'm so sorry, Pansy.
He said. I don't.
Know what came over me? I just lost it and I'm so sorry.
Was he going to ruin all the fun with his guilt because you got
jealous that Weasley tied me up when he was just doing it
because he wanted to arrest me? He winced.
As if she wasn't the one to put that thought in his mind in the
1st. Place.
I'm sorry, he said. And then I almost.
He shook his head. I can't believe I forgot.
Myself like that. I have no excuse.
I'm so. Sorry, and I swear I won't let
it happen again. She's supremely hoped it would
eventually happen one day. She sighed.
Will you make it up to me? His grip on our hands tightened.
Anything. She smiled.
Wonderful, she said. There's this gorgeous diamond
necklace in the jewelry store just down from the shop.
He dropped her hand and fell back into bed.
Godric, you are the worst. Salazar, she said with a smirk.
She ran her hand across his chest.
Never forget how easily I can weaponize weakness against you.
He opened one eye. Since when is guilt weakness?
Since I had a rather good time tonight because you were feeling
guilty, so I decided if I could get 3 orgasms and a diamond
necklace out of it, I might as well.
He rolled his eyes and an interlace to their fingers.
I'm sorry I. Can't buy you diamond.
Necklaces, there was true. Sorrow in his eyes, that.
Made her feel the tiniest bit of guilt for teasing him.
Merlin, he really was fucking with her head.
I can buy my own diamond necklaces, she said.
You're giving me my freedom and helping me keep my magic.
His expression filled with determination.
I am working on it. I promise.
She nodded. I know eventually he'd realise
they only had one option. He flashed her.
A small smirk. I'm sure there's some.
Ruby jewelry. Somewhere in the Longbottom
family vaults. She made a face.
Not my colour. His gaze slid.
Down her body. I think you look incredible in
red. Stop trying to.
Make me a Gryffindor, she said. I'm far too evil for that.
Oh, I know, he said. Doesn't mean I won't imagine you
draped in Ruby. Jewelry and nothing else.
She. Smirked.
I think that's mostly about the nothing else.
We'd better give it a. Try some time to.
Test it and see.