|Sam (merenwen) wrote,|
@ 2011-12-01 12:10:00
|Entry tags:||fic: harry potter, hp: dean thomas, hp: harry potter, hp: pansy parkinson, hp: ron weasley, hp: terry boot, pairing: harry/pansy|
Giving Love a Bad Name
Title:Giving Love a Bad Name
Pairing:Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter
Disclaimer:I own nothing. This is all lies, and no offence is intended with no profits being made.
Summary:Pansy Parkinson is a secretary at the Ministry of Magic, working in the Auror department and standing in the background pushing parchment as they arrest the bad guys. Or that used to be how it was. Now she has been packed off to a village in Ireland that she can’t even pronounce with Potter, Weasley, Thomas and Boot. This isn’t the life she wants so she hatches a plan to better it and that starts with seducing Harry Potter who she knows for a fact is unhappy in his marriage.
Author/Artist Note(s):With thanks to Katie for her betta work! Written for damned_queen at the pphpficexchange as a pinch hit
Pansy starts slowly, carefully, trying to figure out if it will even work at all while still having the chance to disappear without him noticing a thing if it won’t. Being a secretary in the Ministry of Magic is not the life that Pansy envisaged for herself but at least she was important and not on the streets as she feared she might be at one point. Potter was well known in the department for obvious reasons and respected for his work ethic and his perfect little family that he had created around him. Only being a secretary, and being a wall flower bearing witness to a few heated fire calls, suggests to Pansy that there is trouble in paradise and the idea grows from there. It is just a glimmer of a notion at the back of her mind that festers and grows until some sort of plan comes together.
She needs money to get out of this lifestyle. Potter has more money than he will ever spend in his lifetime. Ginny clearly isn’t keeping him happy at home and that is her opportunity.
A Slytherin never lets an opportunity slip through their fingers.
Potter is frustrated, harassed looking and as soon as his brats return to Hogwarts Pansy is aware of him being eager to take more difficult cases from his co-workers, cases that take him away from home for longer periods of time. Pansy assesses his behaviour over the course of a few months and buys tighter fitting robes that are lower cut in response to her findings. Fate seems to smile on her for once and Potter, Thomas, Weasley and Boot are sent off on an undercover sting operation in Northern Ireland and Pansy is sent along to keep on top of the paperwork and basically play house-elf for the four men as they gather information and arrest people. Besides, the Aurors left behind are capable of sending missives themselves and getting their paperwork done; the same cannot be said by the motley crew she finds herself sent away with. Switching her light pink lipstick for red, packing her skimpiest lingerie, and careful to schedule Potter to be in the house alone with her more often than others she makes her move.
“Harry, I was wondering if you would be able to look over these documents for me? They need a signature from a senior Auror before they can be filed away downstairs. Parks is starting to harass me for them with every floo call and it would be a great help if you could sign them rather than me waiting on Weasley getting back,” Harry blinks up at her from the desk in the back bedroom where he has a large map sprawled out in front of him and nods, watching Pansy approach, and from her position hiding most of her face behind the file Pansy smirks when she notices his gaze drop to the sway of her hips and up to the curve of her breasts that push against the material of her robes.
So, she was right.
“What are they for?”
“The Goyle arrest,” Pansy responds sweetly, placing the file on Harry’s desk and slowly moving around it to stand in front of him, standing far closer than she needs to. The smell of her make-up, perfume and her strawberry shampoo goes straight to Harry’s head and not in a bad way. His skin tingles being so close to her and he curses his hormones that are so desperate for a release because Ginny just won’t let him near her anymore and he can’t get alone time in the small cottage because Pansy is always there even if the others are not.
“I’m surprised it took so long to catch him. Wasn’t exactly the brightest at Hogwarts was he? Evidence seems strong enough. Don’t see why there should be a problem with any of it. It was a clean arrest. I know Boot isn’t senior yet but he does his job well,” Harry mutters, glancing over the paperwork before turning his head to look at Pansy to find her half leaning on the desk, her bust dangerously close to his face and Merlin that pale creamy flesh looks so soft and inviting. He snaps his head up, offering her a lazy smile as she gives him a knowing look and runs her tongue over her lips before straightening up and handing him a quill without a word.
“You know what the parchment pushers are like, Harry, never happy unless someone else is drowning in it,” she drawls, and Harry laughs. He hadn’t expected to like Pansy’s quick wit and biting comments when she had been sent down to their end of the office at the Ministry as their new secretary but for some reason it amuses him.
“Usually you unfortunately! We do all the wand blazing and then head off down the pub while you clean up after us!” he gives her a sloppy smile and hands her the files back, “Sorry about that.”
“I don’t mean running around after you, Potter. There is something in it for me after all,” she utters, her voice low and what she hopes is seductive as she places the file back on the table holds Harry’s gaze as she reaches for the map and taps it with her wand, folding that away too.
“Oh? And what is that then? Being cooped up in a cottage with four blokes in a village you can’t pronounce the name of? Doesn’t sound all that nice to me. Though it is brilliant having you here, the banter between you and Ron is something else,” Harry replies, watching her warily as she shifts around until her arse is firmly wedged against the desk, putting her dangerously close to Harry and the smell of her foundation fills his senses as she looks up at him through dark lashes that frame smouldering lust filled eyes. He shamelessly takes a look down her robes, because he understands the game she’s playing, and he knows he should stop, push away and go cool off in the garden or something but his cock is throbbing and it has been months and then she’s leaning into him and pressing her lips to his ears as she talks,
“Weasley irritates the hell out of me but you? You’re fascinating and I get to see you work, I get to see the fire in your eyes when you get back from a raid and I sit there and I do the paperwork and I think about how fired up and hot you must be in this little room of yours, crossing my legs so no one sees how wet I am, and I just want to help you release it. Do you want that too Harry? Do you want my help? They won’t be back for hours yet, you know that. I’m here. I won’t push you away,” she croons in his ear, working her hands around his back, under his robes and slipping her hand down the back of his jeans, cupping his arse and dragging him too her, making him cry out as his hard cock presses into her thigh as she shifts back onto the desk and spreads her legs. Harry’s eyes widen as he realises that she must have overheard something, because that is exactly what he’d accused Ginny of doing, pushing him away.
“Fuck Parkinson this is wrong!”
“I never said it was right.</i>” Pansy whispers before grabbing him by the back of the neck and kissing him soundly, tongue begging for entrance and when he parts his lips it is like he folds completely. His hands go straight for her hips, picking her up and placing her more firmly on the desk, fingers fumbling with clips and zips until he can get her robes off of her. He’s aware of her shoes clattering to the floor, paperwork falling a second after, and then she pulls away from him and her lips are swollen and blood red from the lipstick that has smeared across her face.
Harry holds her gaze for a split second and then he starts pulling at his own robes, slipping his shoes off as he feels Pansy’s hands at his shoulders, pulling his robes off him and then he’s pulling her to him again, kissing her harshly as she wraps her fingers around his cock and gives it a squeeze. Groaning, he pulls one of her legs up around him and with her pressed to him he can feel the heat coming off her and a wave of arousal goes through him. Glancing over at his bed he picks Pansy up, squeezing her arse cheeks until she squeals and laughs while he carries her across the room.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong, is all that Harry can really think but then Pansy is sprawled out on his bed, her raven locks covering his pillow and her swollen lips and dark eyes making her look simply debauched and suddenly it being wrong doesn’t matter so much because he just wants to ravage her and have that feeling in the pit of his stomach that is so damn right.
Pansy giggles and he snaps out of his stupor, kneeling one leg on the bed, and crawls on top of her, kissing her between laughter before cupping her firm breasts in the palms of his hand through her bra, rubbing her nipples until they harden under his touch, glancing at Pansy and feeling somewhat putout when she doesn’t react. Scowling, he pokes the soft skin between her ribs, making her shriek with laughter, and then moves down her body, reaches around her back as she arches off the bed and unclips her bra, watching her breasts spill out before he takes a hardened nipple into his mouth, curling his tongue around it until Pansy groans above him and fists her hand in his hair. He smiles as he licks at the soft flesh before moving to her other breast and giving it the same treatment, happy to move lower when she pushes at him from above, spreading her legs shamelessly as he mouths at her lower abdomen.
Her smell makes him harden further and when he presses his fingers to her lacy knickers, and feels how damn wet they are, he shivers in anticipation. She moans and presses down on him, biting her lip when he glances up, fingers sneaking down her stomach to slip under the flimsy fabric as Harry watches captivated as she touches herself. Rocking back on his ankles Harry wraps his hand around his cock and wanks himself off as Pansy’s eyes flutter shut as she fingers her clit.
“Dammit Potter, why won’t you fuck me already you useless oaf!,” she gasps and it is so painfully Pansy that Harry laughs and reaches for her wrist, pulling her hand free and licking her slick fingers with a groan as she almost chokes matching him before he grabs her other arm and pins them both above her head before entering her, not bothering to be gentle about it because he suspects Pansy likes it a little rougher, smirking when her eyes widen and she arches off the bed in approval.
Not that Harry had ever really given what Parkinson would be like in bed much thought, work’s nights out aside, but it throws him that she is more of a moaner than a screamer. With her arms pinned down, Pansy hooks her legs around Harry, pressing her heel into his arse and urging him to go deeper, fuck her harder, while she tries to wriggle free.
“Potter, let go of my fucking wrists! I don’t want to be pinned down!”
“What do you want then?” Harry pants, kissing her cheek sloppily, “Cause really I think you like it,” he murmurs, throwing her a lazy smile while thrusting a little harder, feeling almost proud of himself when her eyes flutter shut and she groans.
“All your weight is on my wrist,” she mutters, before she smiles and raises an eyebrow, “Flip us over. Let me take control.”
“Now why would I want to do that?” Harry asks, but Pansy just smiles vindictively.
“Because I’m sure it has been a while since a woman took control of you. Let me Harry? You won’t regret it,” she gasps, and Harry feels a stab of anger for a second, probably because she is right. Ginny uses all the excuses she can to keep her distance and when they do have sex she just lies there and it isn’t the same as before. There is no fire there anymore. With a grunt, Harry nods and slowly rolls over, dragging her up on top of him without ever letting his cock leave her tight heat. She laughs and pulls her hair back over her shoulders before leaning down and crushing their mouths together, “My my Potter, stronger than we look are we? I like it.”
With that she smirks and raises herself up on his cock, before lowering herself back down again with a grunt and settling them into a rhythm. Harry holds her by her hips, meeting her thrusts as she comes down on him, arching off the bed and muttering to himself. She feels so alive as she rides him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes dark with lust as she tweaks her breasts and bites her lower lip.
Harry can feel himself getting close, heat pooling in his stomach and his cock throbbing inside Pansy whose thrusts are more erratic, her groans turning into throaty gasps and he knows she must be close too. He holds her more firmly at her hips, thrusts up into her, and reaches up to squeeze her nipples until she’s groaning and trembling through her orgasm. Cheeks flushed and lips blood red from her smeared lipstick and her constant biting, she looks debauched and Harry comes the second she tightens around him.
He’s aware of her collapsing on top of him, her deep breathes in his ear, before she rolls over and giggles to herself, “Not bad, Potter. All that endurance training you guys go through now sure pays off.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself,” he laughs and she reaches over and punches him in the arm with a scowl.
“Fuck you Potter, I’m amazing,” but there is no malice in it and she blinks at him with dark eyes before checking her watch and biting her lip again, “I should go and shower, clean up the evidence. You might want to put some clothes on and pretend you got some work done to show Boot.”
With that she kisses his cheek and rises from the bed and Harry can’t resist slapping her arse as she crosses the room to collect her clothes, making her shriek and then giggle like a school girl. He’s sure it was more annoying when they were at Hogwarts. But then, she was more annoying at Hogwarts and hadn’t grown into the beautiful woman she is.
As soon as she leaves the room, the guilt seeps into his bones like a heavy weight he can’t rid himself of and he thinks that is the worst he has to deal with. He’s mistaken.
Boot gets back to the cottage earlier than expected and before Harry can get his thoughts back together Pansy is already in the floo and on her way back to the safe-house in Wales to Apparate to the Ministry in London and hand in their latest reports. By the time she returns Harry is making dinner and pretending nothing happened while Ron moans at the kitchen table about how terribly boring everything is.
“We’re nearly finished Ron. It is never going to be as exhilarating as when we were a couple of piss head twenty-one year olds rounding up Death Eaters but would you rather be sat at a desk all day?” Dean asks while sipping on a beer.
Ron removes his head from his hands and glowers down the table as Harry hastily tries to avoid setting the kitchen on fire when he turns the gas up too high, “If I had a desk job, at least I’d have something to do. We were just sitting there, in a fucking field, behind wards watching Flint carve some runes into the ruddy ground. We won’t even know what it means until the reports come back and I bet you anything they won’t send for Parkinson before the end of the bloody week.”
“Right ray of sunshine aren’t you?” Terry states dryly before heading for the fridge to get a beer for himself and handing one to Harry who smiles gratefully. He sets another on the table for Pansy, waiting for her to return and Harry feels a twinge of guilt because Pansy had really just become one of the lads on this mission with them. To her, it was bad enough that she was drafted to the Auror department but to be actually sent into the field was horrifying.
“It’s only because I haven’t popped a sprog that I’ve been sent with you Neanderthals, you know that!” she would exclaim at least once a day, usually at breakfast when they were slurping their coffee and almost falling face first into their cereal.
She comes tumbling through the floo just as Harry is getting to serve up and immediately has three wands and a frying pan pointed at her. Cackling at Harry she holds out her arms and Dean checks her for tracer spells before nodding and letting her come to the table. She goes around Harry and brushes against him even though there is plenty of room before taking a seat beside Terry.
“They should have the files back by Thursday. Until then, apparently you have to question the locals or some such nonsense. I don’t know. Your instructions are in that folder I put on the counter. I wish you morons would wrap up this damn case so I could go home. You know I’m only here because I’m the only...”
“Secretary in the department that hasn’t had a kid. Yes Parkinson, we’ve heard it before,” Ron grunts before shoving her beer closer to her. “Take a swig of that and shut up for fuck’s sake. Been a hard day.”
“Certainly has Weasley. Can’t believe I’m agreeing with you for once,” she says sweetly, catching Harry’s eye as he dishes up and he nearly sends half of it flying into Terry’s lap which gets him a punch on the arm.
The feeling of unease that is in the pit of Harry’s stomach only grows over dinner. Now that the arousal has gone, the feeling of inner satisfaction, he just feels a growing sense of guilt for what he’s done and dread for what the consequences may be. Pansy acts as if nothing has happened, winding up the boys and behaving in her usual way, bullying Dean into letting her rest her feet on his lap because they hurt and he’s opposite. Harry can’t be relaxed; he’s wound up fit to burst.
What if Ginny finds out? Would Pansy tell her? What would Ron do to him? Would he be able to see his kids? What has he done? He’s not himself and Ron picks up on it, thinks it is because he hasn’t been out that day and promptly hands him another beer which he accepts to give his hands something to do.
They finish off their dinner and Harry heads for the freezer and starts passing out desert.
“What the hell is this, Potter?” Pansy barks, looking more than a little unimpressed at him as she holds it between two fingers.
“It is a choc-ice,” Harry states blankly. “Ice-cream with chocolate in it. You will like it, just eat.”
Her face is still screwed up in disdain but she eats it anyway, just like she’s eaten everything else she didn’t recognise in the two weeks they had been trapped in the village.
“Well if you allow something, then I guess it is ok right?” She smiles, and rolls her eyes, making Terry laugh but Harry feels chilled to the bone and glances at Ron quickly but the red-head isn’t paying them any attention.
They spend an evening around the television which Ron and Pansy still don’t understand and Pansy complains the whole evening until a few minutes before eight when she all but wrestles Terry to the floor for the remote because, “I simply must know what that evil little man is going to do next, after what he did to his brother! Honestly, those Mitchells’ are barbarians!” and Dean jeers and promises that he will be telling everyone in the department that Pansy watched muggle television and got hooked on Eastenders to boot.
“Tell anyone that Thomas and I will tell everyone you’re shit at silencing charms and I can hear you talking in your sleep,” she snaps, once she has the right channel on.
“But I don’t!” Dean protests.
Pansy only grins evilly, “They don’t know that. Now shut up.”
The rest of the night tortures Harry slowly. Pansy is sat beside him on the couch because that is where she usually sits as the two of them can fit comfortably. Pansy is slim and Harry is the smallest of the four men by far so it works but sitting there he becomes convinced that she’s shifting more than usual, smiling when she doesn’t have to and there is no way she needs to push up off his thigh to get up to go to the bathroom.
Heading to bed early, Harry fails to get a minute’s sleep.
At half past six, Pansy sneaks into his room and locks the door behind her. He knows it is her because of the long dark hair but apart from that everything is a blur and by the time he has his glasses on she’s sat on the edge of his bed smiling at him in a way that unnerves him.
“Morning Potter, my you were a little unhinged last night weren’t you?” she states and Harry cringes.
“Shhh! Merlin’s pants, keep your voice down!”
“What? Scared someone will overhear?” Pansy purrs, leaning down and kissing his cheek, laughing when he flinches away from her. “You wanted me, Potter. You fucked me hard and now you’re worried someone will find out about it aren’t you?”
Harry stiffens. He knows the look in her eyes, “You planned this. You seduced me for a reason.”
Again she laughs and, despite how beautiful she looks in the morning sun that is creeping through Harry’s window, he can’t help but feel she’s dangerous. “I never do anything without a reason you idiotic Gryffindor, I’m a Slytherin! And...” she cocks her head and her eyes are wide and honest, confusing Harry, “I knew you weren’t happy. She doesn’t make you happy anymore Harry. You’re so frustrated all the time. I’m just the parchment pusher and Merlin I can see that so how anyone else can’t I know that. You needed someone. I was here. You’re hot, I’m smoking... why not?”
Harry doesn’t return her smile but forces himself upright in his bed, urging her further down the mattress. Her eyes flicker to his wand but he leaves it on the bedside table. “You just said you don’t do anything for a reason. I’m sure there are plenty others you could go out there and screw and you damn sure wouldn’t just do it for the good of my neglected dick as you seem to see it, so why?”
What do you want to keep quiet? goes unsaid and yet heard by both. Pansy huffs and folds her arms protectively over herself.
“I don’t want to be a Ministry secretary. I don’t want to be sent off on Auror missions to Northern Ireland or be running around after the wizards guarding important political figures abroad so I can send back the paperwork saying ‘Oh, all fine, no one was blown up’, but I don’t have a choice,” she mutters, and Harry feels his blood run cold.
“Money. You want money so you can quit your job and go live the high life somewhere,” he states coldly and Pansy at least looks guilty about it.
“Look, I don’t want half your vault, just enough to move away and start over where no one knows me. Maybe the States or something. I...” she opens and closes her mouth several times as Harry gets to his feet and throws some robes on feeling rather ill but he turns around in time to see her mask slip into place, the one that shuts everyone out. “We had a good time, you don’t want anyone to find out and I want out of this godforsaken country where everyone looks at me like I’m a fucking Death Eater even when they know where I work,” she spits harshly. “Give me ten grand and I will disappear.”
“Ten thousand!” Harry gasps in disbelief, “Are you out of your mind?!”
“I know you’re good for it,” is all she says haughtily.
“Hardly the point, Parkinson!”
“Oh it is Parkinson is it? Seemed more like Pansy last night when you were balls deep and gasping my name,” she hisses while getting to her feet. “I do my job, I do it well. No one needs to know about this! It was fucking amazing Harry. You were fucking amazing and if I thought I could get you away from that wench and have that cock of yours whenever I wanted, believe me I would but life isn’t fair. Ten grand, or I’m going to Weasley,” Pansy states quietly.
Harry feels like he is reeling with no chance of getting himself together. There are too many things going through his head at once. Pansy would consider being with him, really being with him if he left Ginny? Ok it would be based on sex but it was fucking amazing sex and his marriage to Ginny was all but dead anyway but one night! It wasn’t worth ending it. The thing that strikes him is that Ginny knowing isn’t really what gets to him because surely she must know their marriage is failing but more about what would happen if Ron knew, Mrs Weasley, and what they would do. The Weasleys are his family and he doesn’t want to lose them. Not for one amazing shag with Pansy Parkinson while his colleagues were out doing work.
“You’re blackmailing me,” Harry states and Pansy pouts at him and shrugs her shoulder, all but agreeing with him, “Fine. Have it your way. You are right, I am good for it. But you know something? Keep looking over your shoulder because I’m going home to leave my wife.”
Pansy’s eyes widen comically and Harry smirks, glad to have one up on her. He isn’t entirely sure where that came from. Somewhere between realising he didn’t want to lose his family but more importantly didn’t want Ginny anymore. Walking away because it doesn’t work is far better than being thrown out for cheating.
“I... I didn’t mean to,” Pansy stammers because Merlin he was unhappy and needed to get some but she didn’t exactly go in to wreck his marriage between setting up the cottage and arresting Flint!
Harry waves her off and looks her up and down, thinks for all of five seconds before grabbing his wand and throwing up a silencing charm. “I will have the gold in your account the Monday after we get back to London. No one will be up before half eight. Fancy another round? I’ve lit the fuse on everything now, might as well go out with a bang.”
Harry turns up at her door in Chicago three months later with a bottle of wine and that lazy smile of his and Pansy can’t help grinning and dragging him in by his t-shirt. She lets him fuck her on her new couch and then tells him all about her new robes shop she’s set up in Chicago’s answer to Diagon Alley before questioning him on how he left Ginny and managed to somehow have the press make him out to be the injured party, husband of a wife who had let herself go since retiring from Quidditch, taking out on a husband who worked hard but still had his dream job while she gave up hers. Harry laughs and tells her the hat nearly put him in Slytherin before he takes her to her bedroom and Pansy’s on top that time and Harry’s sure he heard a spring break. It might last, it might not, but they are living life day by day, around letters from Hogwart’s where Harry’s kids tell tales on one another as Pansy pays far more attention than she should, so all in all it doesn’t really matter. Pansy notices things about him, doesn’t give a shit about him being The Harry Potter, and Harry looks past her looks and fine arse, to see the real Pansy that likes to be sarcastic and make beautiful robes for beautiful people. He tells her when she’s being a bitch and she tells him when he’s being a brat.
It shouldn’t work, and yet it does. It probably has something to do with them both giving up trying to understand why.