100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
11,329
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
11,329
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
End
Title: End
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble, PWP
Warnings: Lite DH spoilers, oral
Summary: #3 End(s) – He could never convince her.
Word Count: 832 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. This was fun! Suggested by ryo_hija.
Prompt 3 – End
“You would never understand, Potter, so don’t try and play high and mighty saviour of the world!” she screamed at him, her voice echoing off the walls the abandoned Potions Classroom deep in the belly of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Harry Potter could not look at her, so angry, yet so guilty, that all he could do was clench his fits at his sides.
“But you promised, Pansy, you promised that you would help…you and the rest of your House,” Harry gritted out, still able to feel the hot handprint on his cheek where Pansy had slapped him after he had startled her in the dark corridor outside the classroom.
“Don’t you understand, Potter? If we fought, our parents would not have hesitated to kill us out there. My own father…” Pansy trailed, her voice breaking.
Harry glanced up to watch her wipe tears from her pale cheeks. He wanted to be so angry with her, she had broken her promise to him…no one from the Slytherin House came to fight during the Last Battle…only Malfoy, and he had never been on Harry’s side.
“Do you realize that how many have died, Pansy?” Harry grumbled.
“And even more would have died if I had led everyone out!” Pansy cried, falling back into one of the worktables, her chin falling to her chest. “You could never understand…” she whispered.
Harry wanted to hate her, but he couldn’t.
Stepping toward her, he grasped her shoulders, staring into the raven crown of her hair, and the smudges of dust on her cheeks. Even though she had not been in the battle, she was still ragged, having to fight her way out of the Slytherin Dormitory when during the battle, part of the castle had collapsed. She smelled of dank, sweat, and faintly of a clean perfume of lilies and white tea.
Harry knew he looked or smelled no better, but he let his nostrils inhale the scent of perfume and forget for a moment that he had killed Voldemort only hours before. He embraced her, gently, leaning into her.
“Potter?” she gasped as she her thin body was consumed in his arms and chest, her voice muffled.
Harry held her, closing his eyes.
Pansy had always been the most horrible person to his friends, she had always worn a mask of derision and disgust, but Harry had seen through it all at some point during their schooldays. Pansy was far more clever than most people believed, and she was far more caring of others than Harry could imagine. It had been that care that had brought them together.
He grasped her sharp chin and kissed her…just as he had so many times before in the darkness of corridors, in the hidden niches in the library, in the shadows of the Quidditch pitch, and so many other places.
Her hands went about his neck as she stood on the tips of her toes, weeping into their kiss.
She wept often whenever they had kissed, Harry remembered. Pansy Parkinson should not kiss Harry Potter…she had said once. Kissing implied something deeper than what either of them felt, but still they kissed.
Harry placed Pansy on the top o f the worktable, and pulling away, went down…pushing up at her skirt to bury his face into the knicker-clad mound hidden beneath. He shivered at the sensation of her fingers in his hair. The tip of his nose brushed against the spot where her perfume seemed strongest, and he inhaled just as Pansy gasped.
“Potter…” she sighed as he pulled her knickers aside, and his tongue lashed out to taste the source of the wonderful perfume.
His tongue buried deep inside her hole, his nose against her nubbin, and he lapped. Harry Potter had been the only man inside Pansy Parkinson, but he had not taken her virginity. Of all the times they had desperately clashed together, it was never sex in its most literal sense…it was touching and tasting.
And this time was the end of it…
Harry’s mouth moved to suckle at Pansy’s clit, and she squealed as she came, her hands tangled in his hair, her juices pooling on the edge of the table…a pool which Harry licked up hungrily, relishing the taste.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he stood, staring at Pansy with shimmering emerald eyes. She was not exactly pretty, not like Ginny…but she was alluring. And for a split-second, he considered taking her in his arms again, begging her to change her mind about…everything.
Pansy smoothed her clothes and slid down from the table, the mask of derision back in place.
“Goodbye, Potter…” she whispered, beginning to move past him.
Harry grasped her arm before she got too far, whirling her around. His anger resurged.
“What was the point of you being in my life, Pansy?” Harry hissed.
Pansy blinked. “I don’t know, Potter, but if you’ll let me go, it will be the end of it.”
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble, PWP
Warnings: Lite DH spoilers, oral
Summary: #3 End(s) – He could never convince her.
Word Count: 832 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. This was fun! Suggested by ryo_hija.
Prompt 3 – End
“You would never understand, Potter, so don’t try and play high and mighty saviour of the world!” she screamed at him, her voice echoing off the walls the abandoned Potions Classroom deep in the belly of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Harry Potter could not look at her, so angry, yet so guilty, that all he could do was clench his fits at his sides.
“But you promised, Pansy, you promised that you would help…you and the rest of your House,” Harry gritted out, still able to feel the hot handprint on his cheek where Pansy had slapped him after he had startled her in the dark corridor outside the classroom.
“Don’t you understand, Potter? If we fought, our parents would not have hesitated to kill us out there. My own father…” Pansy trailed, her voice breaking.
Harry glanced up to watch her wipe tears from her pale cheeks. He wanted to be so angry with her, she had broken her promise to him…no one from the Slytherin House came to fight during the Last Battle…only Malfoy, and he had never been on Harry’s side.
“Do you realize that how many have died, Pansy?” Harry grumbled.
“And even more would have died if I had led everyone out!” Pansy cried, falling back into one of the worktables, her chin falling to her chest. “You could never understand…” she whispered.
Harry wanted to hate her, but he couldn’t.
Stepping toward her, he grasped her shoulders, staring into the raven crown of her hair, and the smudges of dust on her cheeks. Even though she had not been in the battle, she was still ragged, having to fight her way out of the Slytherin Dormitory when during the battle, part of the castle had collapsed. She smelled of dank, sweat, and faintly of a clean perfume of lilies and white tea.
Harry knew he looked or smelled no better, but he let his nostrils inhale the scent of perfume and forget for a moment that he had killed Voldemort only hours before. He embraced her, gently, leaning into her.
“Potter?” she gasped as she her thin body was consumed in his arms and chest, her voice muffled.
Harry held her, closing his eyes.
Pansy had always been the most horrible person to his friends, she had always worn a mask of derision and disgust, but Harry had seen through it all at some point during their schooldays. Pansy was far more clever than most people believed, and she was far more caring of others than Harry could imagine. It had been that care that had brought them together.
He grasped her sharp chin and kissed her…just as he had so many times before in the darkness of corridors, in the hidden niches in the library, in the shadows of the Quidditch pitch, and so many other places.
Her hands went about his neck as she stood on the tips of her toes, weeping into their kiss.
She wept often whenever they had kissed, Harry remembered. Pansy Parkinson should not kiss Harry Potter…she had said once. Kissing implied something deeper than what either of them felt, but still they kissed.
Harry placed Pansy on the top o f the worktable, and pulling away, went down…pushing up at her skirt to bury his face into the knicker-clad mound hidden beneath. He shivered at the sensation of her fingers in his hair. The tip of his nose brushed against the spot where her perfume seemed strongest, and he inhaled just as Pansy gasped.
“Potter…” she sighed as he pulled her knickers aside, and his tongue lashed out to taste the source of the wonderful perfume.
His tongue buried deep inside her hole, his nose against her nubbin, and he lapped. Harry Potter had been the only man inside Pansy Parkinson, but he had not taken her virginity. Of all the times they had desperately clashed together, it was never sex in its most literal sense…it was touching and tasting.
And this time was the end of it…
Harry’s mouth moved to suckle at Pansy’s clit, and she squealed as she came, her hands tangled in his hair, her juices pooling on the edge of the table…a pool which Harry licked up hungrily, relishing the taste.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he stood, staring at Pansy with shimmering emerald eyes. She was not exactly pretty, not like Ginny…but she was alluring. And for a split-second, he considered taking her in his arms again, begging her to change her mind about…everything.
Pansy smoothed her clothes and slid down from the table, the mask of derision back in place.
“Goodbye, Potter…” she whispered, beginning to move past him.
Harry grasped her arm before she got too far, whirling her around. His anger resurged.
“What was the point of you being in my life, Pansy?” Harry hissed.
Pansy blinked. “I don’t know, Potter, but if you’ll let me go, it will be the end of it.”