It's Just Sex

[A/n: Thanks to all the reviewers and especially Salon Kitty for some wonderfully detailed posts. In case people haven’t figured it out or forgotten from the earlier chapters, double line breaks signify a change in the point of view of the narration; usually from Harry to Pansy or vice versa. Big scene breaks are marked as such]

Chapter 7: Much Needed Solace.

The buzz was all through the Slytherin Common room, even Pansy Parkinson, who lately had become very withdrawn from her housemates when not on duty as a prefect, had heard it.

The Dark Mark was floating above the astronomy tower. Death Eaters were swarming into the castle, as were packs of werewolves and a colony of vampires out to drink innocent blood. The Dark Lord would soon arrive to pull the castle up by the roots; to cast down the mudbloods and elevate those of pure stature.

Of course, Pansy knew that most of these tales were probably complete rubbish but it seemed incontrovertible that the Dark Mark had indeed been cast in the sky over the school. Now, Pansy, contrary to popular opinion, was not at all unintelligent and knew exactly what this meant: The Dark Mark was sent up by Death Eaters whenever they killed someone and out of everyone in Hogwarts; Pansy knew there were only two people that the Dark Lord would want to kill badly enough to break into the Castle, which was one of the most secure locations of the magical world; the headmaster Albus Dumbledore and, of course, Harry Potter.

While outwardly being careful to show no reaction to this rumour; other than to tell the younger students to shut up and go back to their rooms, internally Pansy panicked. Just when it seemed to her that her life might be going somewhere; that she might have someone who cared about her… One out of two were not odds in favour of Harry even being alive tomorrow.

Pansy knew all this. She just didn’t care. She left her bag and all her things in her room, all her things apart from her wand (Oak & Dragon-heartstring; 10 inches); she ignored all the first years as she swept through the cold damp Slytherin common and out into the corridors. She didn’t have the slightest clue where she should be going, whether she should head towards the astronomy tower, where the mark was, or to Gryffindor tower; where Harry should be but she didn’t know the password and no passing Gryffindor worth their wand would ever let her in or fail to be suspicious of a Slytherin asking after Harry Potter. Even while she was thinking over her options, her legs were carrying her in a quick dash through the lower levels of the school; heading towards the entrance hall. She quickly passed through it and headed up into the main castle; thankfully both towers were the same direction; at least at first so she didn’t have to make a decision just yet.

She strode up the great sweeping marble staircase and ended up jogging down a second floor corridor when she saw Harry running down the other way. Her heart leapt to see that he was alright and just as rapidly plummeted when she saw two hooded black figures lurking in a second corridor. They were all approaching an intersection between two corridors; it was not a cross-roads- nothing at Hogwarts was ever that normal, instead the castle seemed to have decided that tonight the two corridors would cross at a very acute angle. Harry was charging down one corridor and the Pansy and the Death Eaters; for that was who the black robed figures must be, were in the other corridor.

Harry did not seem to see her; nor, due to the layout of the corridors, could he see the two Death Eaters lying in ambush for him. Time seemed to stop for Pansy. It was a moment that she realised would forever define her in her own mind. She could stand by and do nothing and the Death Eaters would most likely subdue Harry easily, killing him off entirely or at least letting them drag him off so they could throw him down at The Dark Lord’s feet. It would be the Slytherin thing to do,Pansy knew that with Harry alive, the Dark Mark must have been cast upon the death of Albus Dumbledore and without Dumbledore there was no defeating The Dark Lord. Pansy was, in the end, a realist; The Daily Prophet’s ‘The Chosen One’ or not Harry was a untrained 16 year old, compared to a man who had apparently defeated death and had devoted a considerable amount of time accruing the greatest depths of dark knowledge and power imaginable, Harry hardly came out on top.

Yes, stand by and let Harry fall that was her brain’s vote. No point staying on the losing side, making sure you were on the winning side; that was just common sense.

Her brain was outvoted however. At the mere thought of Harry being hurt, her heart clenched into a tiny knot in protest sending shockwaves of phantom agony rolling across her chest and from the very depths of her body, from her soul, a voice spoke- a fierce possessive voice that screamed;

No! You can’t take him! He’s mine!

Time started again and Pansy found that her arm; obeying the majority vote was already outstretched. Air flooded her lungs again and she screeched:

“Intonarus!”

The incantation was picked at random from a wide selection of duelling curses drilled into her by her family, who had long maintained she should be capable of upholding their collective honour at any time. Her wand seemed to swell under her hand and then become very hot for the smallest fraction of a second, then a brilliant electric violet bolt of lightning shot out of her wand tip and crossed half the distance between her and the Death Eaters before the jagged bolt forked into two separate lances; each of which took one of the robed men in the chest and threw them against the wall. They rebounded and crashed limply to the ground; their chests charred and smoking where the bolts had struck them. One of them lay still but the other twitched and spasmed as though his muscles were beyond his control. Pansy didn’t have time to wonder at the sheer brutal force of her casting nor did she care particularly whether these men were dead or alive. She looked around.

Harry ran past, sprinting full out. He did not look at her or her fallen foes nor did he show any sign that he was even aware that she was here.

Pansy turned her head and caught a glimpse of the very end of a robe swishing around a corner. She gathered her breath to follow when a hard voice behind her shrieked;

“Miss Parkinson! What. Do. You. Think. You. Are. Doing?”

Pansy whirled back so she was facing the direction Harry had come from; back up towards the depths of the castle and the towers that Pansy had been heading towards, originally. She saw Professor Minevra McGonagall stalking towards her, looking fiercer and more intimidating than Pansy had every seen her; which was by no means a mean feat; she had her wand out and although it wasn’t precisely aimed at Pansy but rather just below and to the side of her right elbow, it was by no connotation not threatening her. Pansy drew herself to her fullest height and adopted her most pompous and official tones.

“As a Prefect I thought, with all these troubling rumours, that it was my duty to come to the support and aid of the staff…”

McGonagall did not look convinced.

“I think,” she said, her voice still cracking with energy, “that your duty is to remain in your common room and prevent more.. impressionable young students from wandering the halls; so they remain safe. That is a prefect’s duty, Miss Parksinson. Return to your Common Room. Immediately.”

And with that both of them quickly hurried off. Pansy however, did not plan to return to her common room at all.


~ScEnEbReAk~


Stumbling slightly, Harry Potter descended the stairs from the Headmaster’s office; his body was drained from his exertions of the evening, his mind was still spinning from the terrible experiences; having to force feed Dumbledore poisons to reach a horcrux (not even a real one), desperately trying to get Dumbledore back upto the castle, only to be cornered by Death Eaters, Dumbledore’s death, chasing Snape through the castle only to be effortlessly defeated by him in a duel, then having to tell every disbelieving soul what had happened and finally being dragged to the Headmaster’s (Headmistress’ now) office and all the teachers had looked to him for advice; for hope. He should be a wreck, he knew. He should be balling his eyes out, or curled foetal in shock but he wasn’t. He didn’t even feel sad. He couldn’t seem to feel anything, just a dull throbbing in his head and the physical exhaustion in every limb but his mind even felt disconnected from that. He was aware of it but did not feel it.

He slowly began to walk towards Gryffindor Tower very slowly. He hadn’t gone two corridors when he walked into Pansy. Her face was white as marble and her eyes looked slightly red. She ran up to him and wrapped her arms about him; squeezing him hard as if to make sure he was real.

“Harry!” she said, half-sobbing, “thank Avalon, you’re alright! What happened?!”

“Snape killed Dumbledore.” Harry growled. He’d said the words again and again this evening. He loathed them; suddenly he felt something again. He felt angry. He latched on to the emotion, just so he could continue feeling anything.


Snape killed Dumbledore The words sent shock rippling through Pansy’s frame. Her Head of House; a man she’d looked up to and respected her entire time at Hogwarts. She knew on an intellectual level that he hadn’t treated others very well; but the entire of Slytherin House had depended on the man and he had always had time for his house. That he’d have killed the headmaster seemed unreal to her. There hadn’t been a teacher in Hogwarts that Dumbledore hadn't trusted implicitly; unless you counted Umbridge or Lockheart. That he’d kept the man on this year; in one of the most important positions no less had bespoken of nothing but utmost trust between the two men.

She pulled back from Harry and was shocked by the complete change of his expression. A second ago he’d looked completely blank; now his brow was furrowed with anger and eyes were suddenly hard and opaque with none of their usual bright light in those green irises.

“Snape. You know, head of Slytherin House.” His words were tinged with pure venom now, He advanced into her personnel space ever so slightly. An action which somehow no longer spoke of their usual intimacy but made him loom over her threateningly, “you know,” he continued, “your house.”

The words sent a sudden chill of fear coursing through Pansy.

“What do you mean ‘my house’?” she said, weakly.

“I mean, you’re a fucking Slytherin.” He growled, “You’re on his side, aren’t you? All of you are! I hate you all!”

Pansy fought back tears, as his words cut her to the bone. She forced herself to speak;

“So, you hate Slytherins do you? Is it because of the pure blood thing? The bigotry of hating people just because of a factor beyond their control? Like say which house they were sorted into?

“I hate them because they killed my parents!” he snarled.

Pansy’s eyes burned beyond her ability to control, the corridor went wavy. And not wanting to let him see her like this she turned away and began to walk off. She got five steps before she heard a great pained breath behind her. She half turned and saw Harry’s countenance had once more completely changed. His posture was now slumped and broken, he couldn’t meet her eyes for his own were sudden deep green wells of agony, he said in a sodden dead kind of voice,

“You’re leaving me, aren’t you?” he said, very quietly, “Everyone does. Dumbledore, Sirius, my parents. Everyone.”

Pansy wondered for a second why he had just listed a notorious mass murder in the same breath as the greatest wizard in the world and his parents but only for a second until she heard the sorrow that laced every word and drowned out any hurt she was feeling from his angry words. Coming to a decision that wasn’t really a decision, she took Harry’s hand in her own and whispered,

“Come with me, Harry.”

She started to lead him away. It hadn’t been a decision; she’d already made her choices earlier that evening, now she just had to stick to them.


Harry let himself be led away by Pansy’s firm grasp on his hand. His head was swimming again and he just had no idea how he felt. If he had to describe it the phrase ‘emotional whiplash’ might have come to mind, he’d started off emotionless, soared to the heights of hatred on wings of hate before suddenly crashing into the depths of despair. Harry knew he’d just been incredibly unfair to Pansy, he really wouldn’t blame her if she had left him at this point but emotionally he seemed to have settled back to his new default position; numbness.

They didn’t end up going far, nor did they leave the seventh floor, inside she led him a terribly familiar tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy and several tutu clad trolls, she was leading him straight to the room of requirement. He resisted her, he didn’t want to go there. It was where Draco had spent the year, plotting to kill Dumbledore, where the Death Eaters had entered Hogwarts and succeeded in defeating the Order Of The Phoenix and do just that.

Pansy seemed to understand his hesitance. She gently laid a hand on his chest; above his heart, something inside him seemed to unclench slightly.

“It’s just a room. It means whatever you want to mean,” she whispered in one ear. Then she let go of his hand and walked up the corridor, Harry didn’t follow her; he couldn't seem to muster the effort to move his limbs. He watched as she walked up and down the hallways three times. Eyes closed, concentrating on something. After the third pass, a door sprang into being on the wall, and Pansy took him inside the room.

He stared about in wonder as the door closed firmly behind them. It was the smallest he could ever remember seeing the room of requirement; certainly much smaller that it had been for DA sessions. The room was now circular; echoing the tower room where he normally slept in a comforting manner. There was only one bed though and it was entirely different from the four poster in his dormitory with its silk sheets and red and gold hangings. It was instead covered in a soft thick duvet and was neither as small as single bed nor as large as a double, still it looked like two people could be comfortably lie on it but only if they didn’t mind being very close. The whole room was lit by lanterns that filled the room with a soft golden glow and was decorated mainly in greens but not the bright venomous green of Slytherin house that Harry might have expected from Pansy but a dark forest green. It took Harry awhile to realise that the room was in fact the same colour as his eyes.

The door closed behind them with a solid and very satisfying Thunk. As soon it was closed, Harry felt a reassuring wave of safety wash over him, he knew the room wouldn’t let anybody through that door to harm him.

Pansy and Harry sat next to each other on the bed, Pansy reached up and took Harry’s head in her hands and kissed him. Kisses could say many things, albeit nonverbally, and over the last school year Harry had become familiar with a wide variety of kisses from Pansy from their first hard demanding kiss borne of lustful hunger to the softest enticing brush of her lips across his own. This was neither of those two extremes; it was a constant gentle pressure on his lips a kiss; that spoke of endurance and comfort. Her arms encircled him and slowly, lips still locked, they descended, lying across the bed. Harry felt her nimble hands and long fingers move across his body, stroking him and teasing him. Finding the buttons on his clothes and undoing them easily while he still lost in the soft heat of the kiss.

They broke for a second as Pansy lifted something over his head and he suddenly realised that almost without him realising it, she’d stripped him almost naked. He was only wearing his glasses and his boxers as she pulled away. Standing over him, smiling down but still fully dressed and for some reason, this annoyed Harry.

“You’re overdressed,” he growled and as she had for him, he started to undress her. He wasn’t half so gentle though, simply grabbing the edge of her blouses and pulled; forcing the buttons to come apart or just pop off the garment all together. Harry pulled the blouse and her robes off quickly and then yanked her bra over her head, not bothering to even attempt to undo the clasp. Pansy gasped at his sudden forcefulness but was too shocked to do anything to stop him. He tucked both hands into her waist band and pulled both her skirt and her knickers down her legs so she could step out of them; leaving her entirely naked.

Harry eagerly ran his hands all over her body. He wanted to feel something; it might as well be her.

His hands moved steadily across her warm flesh; feeling the contours of her body; he traced the planes of her back, fingertips following the line of spine down to her curved buttocks which he cupped and squeezed before moving his hands over her hips and up to give her breasts the same treatment; her already erect nipples teasing his palms. Pansy let out a guttural moan as he fondled her none too gently. Harry found himself greatly affected by this and rapidly became fully erect.

Perhaps sensing that Harry was in no condition to talk, they quickly moved onto the bed. Pansy got to the middle of the bed and faced the headboard holding herself up on her hands and knees so that Harry, at the foot of the bed, got a perfect look at the full roundness of her bottom and the passion pink slit of her pussy beneath it. She spread her knees as wide as possible and shot him a ‘come hither’ look over her shoulder. Harry did not need more prompting than that. Discarding his boxers, he moved up behind her on his knees and took his cock in one hand and her hip in the other, placing himself at her entrance; he buried himself to the hilt in her cunt, in one long smooth push of his hips until they rested against the firm globes of Pansy’s tight ass.

As he had done on so many prior occasion he slipped his hands beneath her to cup and fondle her hanging breasts; Pansy gasped appreciatively and squirmed her hips encouraging Harry to start thrusting. He did, setting a quicker pace than he might have ordinarily have done but still not harder than normal. He could tell Pansy was really getting into it; her cries of ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ were the first subtle clues of her enjoyment as was the way she kept thrust her hips back to meet his own forward motion.

But Harry still felt numb. Even her pleased moans, usually so exciting to him did not do much more than grate across his senses. He did not want to hear all this; he just wanted to feel something – he just wanted to get off.

His hands left her tits, instead he felt his right hand clamp around the back of Pansy’s neck and push down, she either took the hint or he'd used more force than he thought he had because her head was immediately buried in the soft pillows at the top of the bed, her arms spread wide against the mattress, her tits compressed beneath her. Her hips remained raised and her butt was now totally exposed to him. His left hand found and gripped her hip again. Harry suddenly found his thrusts reaching deeper inside her wet heat. He picked up the pace and power of his thrusts, delighting almost maliciously in the new position. Placing his weight above hers and riding her ass as hard as he could.

The sight of her being totally submissive to him had apparently brought out something primal from deep within him. Suddenly Harry felt elated. He felt Powerful as he had not done in years, all these years he had worked to someone else’s agendas always doing what was expected of him, always doing what was planned by someone even if he hadn’t known it at the time. Voldemort’s plans. Dumbledore’s plan. ‘You must do whatever I say, Harry” he had said, and where had it got him? Dead. Blasted off the Astronomy Tower. No more of that though, Harry thought. Now he was in control of something.

Pansy was squirming under him again; but his grip on her neck kept her still. He slammed into her: fucking her harder than he ever had before. He savoured all the little details. The hard smack of his hips striking her arse on the downstroke and the way it was followed instantly by Pansy’s hand clawing into the mattress and her muted squeals into the pillow and the delicious silence as he pulled out as she trembled and quaked in anticipation of the next hard thrust.

Put as quickly as the surge of power came it left him, instantly; the very second he realised that Pansy’s squeals were not of pleasure at all but were half-sobs. In that instant he suddenly became aware of the redness of her backside and of just how hard he was gripping her hip and even her neck. The flesh was pale and bloodless around his hands and he knew the instant he let go they would start to bruise. What the hell was he even doing?

His hands sprang open, he scrambled backwards taking his weight off her entirely and he retreated so far that he almost fell off the bed entirely.

“Oh God,” He moaned piteously, “oh God, Pansy, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was.. oh please, please be alright.”

She rolled over weakly, panting for breath, face red as she had clearly not been getting enough air, Harry could see two damp curved marks on the pillow where she had been biting them as he’d pummelled into her, could see that as he expected there was a dark bruise forming on her hip; marring her beautiful body and he’d done that. He couldn’t believe it.

His vision wavered as previously denied tears just seemed to well out of him uncontrollably. Suddenly he felt arms around him again, though he could think of no reason why she would even look at him, Pansy was hugging his head to her as he cried. Stroking his head soothingly.

“It’s alright, Harry,” she murmured, “It’s alright.”

She started to kiss him again, not on the lips but all over his face. After a second Harry realised he was kissing away his tears.


Pansy knew he hadn’t been trying to hurt her, knew that the last thing in the world Harry wanted to do was hurt her. She knew he’d just been so pent up emotionally and had needed to vent, to use his energies somehow. She shouldn’t have let him know she’d been uncomfortable, she gone and spoiled everything. She held him close and told him everything would be alright. Gradually his wracking sobs came to a stop. She couldn’t think the less of him for this. She knew he’d faced more terrible things in the last few years than most people did in their entire lives. Any one of the losses he had suffered would be enough to knock anyone back much less all of them combined.

She kissed at his tears and then softly kissed him on the lips, wrapped her own about them and sucking gently. She cupped his face in his hands and she saw the sorrow in his deep green eyes.

“I’m fine,” she tried to reassure him, “really, I am. You just needed to vent, I understand.”

She could tell her didn’t believe her.

“Look,” she said, leaning backing into the pillows, “You feel bad? Then you better find some way to make it up to me, hadn’t you?”

She spread her legs for him. He looked surprised.

“You mean you still want to… after I…” Words seemed to fail him. Pansy just nodded.

“I always want you Harry,” She said softly to him.

It was her turn to be surprised; he didn’t mount her once more between her spread legs, instead he gently lifted her thighs over his shoulders and pressed his face into her pussy; quickly setting his tongue to work on her folds. Considering his dick had been there not so long ago, Pansy was amazed at his willingness to eat her out. Her feet pressed flat against his back as his tongue slipped as deep into her cunt as he could manage. Not even a fraction as deep as his dick went but it was a lot more agile; zooming across her inner walls and swirling around to find as many sensitive spots as possible. She felt him lap at her as more and more of her fluid seeped out of her. Her head collapsed against the pillow as it swam with almost delirious pleasure, her hands finding her own tits; gripping and twisting them slightly as her nipples throbbed with nearly painful arousal.

She panted. It felt amazing, but it was not what she wanted.

“Uh!” she managed to say, “Oh fuck! That’ssogood. But.. I need you in me! Really in me!”

But he ingored her. Instead, he just took to nub of her clit in his mouth and sucked on it. The effect was almost instantaneous, Pansy found herself trying to crush his head with her thighs as she squeezed them tight almost involuntarily as she came. She felt her lube run out of her slit and down the cleft of her ass. She lost all power over her limbs and found herself completely flat on the bed, spread eagled.

On then did it seem Harry decided he want to have her. His strong hands parting her limp legs wide as he crawled up her body, so they were face to face. The sorrow still glimmered just in the very deepest parts of his eyes but more prominent expression was the determined jut of his jaw. Even with her juices soaking his chin he looked manly and unyielding in purpose.

He slipped himself into her with ease this time; she was totally soaked from her last orgasm making her tunnel so slick she didn’t think he’d have to use any effort to reach inside her. Ever so slowly he started to move himself in and out of her in great long strokes that used his entire length. He’d withdraw until she could barely feel him and then push in again until she felt him head reach her deepest depths again. She wondered if he could feel her heartbeat with his dick, he was felt so deep inside her. He picked up the pace, smoothly thrusting in and out as Pansy moaned and cooed up to him, encouragingly.

His expression never changed however. Still the jut of the jaw, the slight touch of sorrow to his eyes but most of it was steely hard determination, like his irises had been transfigured into cold chips of actual emerald. Suddenly Pansy realised that Harry was seeing this as his contrition. He’d taken her literally and was going to say sorry by making her cum as many times as possible.

But he wasn’t enjoying it himself. That’d won’t do at all , Pansy thought as her hands traced the hard tense muscles of his back as he worked on her. He was holding his weight off her, she knew, not letting himself lose control at all. It was no fun for her if he wasn’t enjoying it.

“Oh Harry,” she moaned up, “I need you. Kiss me please?”

Her hands moved up under his arms and tangled in his hair from behind trying to pull him down into a lip-lock; when he relented and lowered his face to hers; she surged forward; letting all her lust and need for him show through her talented tongue;diving it into his mouth and dominating his tongue with her molten heat. Harry seemed to give and moaned into her mouth; pleasantly. Even when their kiss ended she didn’t let him go or regain his former distance, instead encouraging him to delve his head in the crook of her neck and the soft pillows next to her head. Letting her whisper; between strokes her centre that were leaving breathless, into his ear;

“Harry! You’re so good! I’m yours Harry!” she paused, realising that what she was going to say next was a bit of low blow, “I’m not going to leave you Harry,” She moaned huskily, “I never want to leave you. Never.”

It was a low blow but it worked like all low blows do.

Almost immediately Harry’s concentration and careful rhythm were broken. His thrusts became both quicker and more erratic; she could feel his dick quiver and throb out of his control inside her. His face snapped up and on to hers and she could feel his hot breath on her face and found her self staring in to the very depths of his verdant eyes and could see no more sorrow or determination; they were slightly watery again but the only emotion contained within was purest elation and joy.

“Oh Pansy, Oh Merlin, thank you., thankyou so much” he moaned as he thrust hard and fast, completely secure in her desire for him, “oh God, I love you.”

Pansy wrapped her legs around his waist encouraging him to thrust faster and squeezing him against her so tightly he could escape or slow down. Sweat beaded on his forehead as they worked together seamlessly now; writhing and humping each with wild abandon until finally, with one last mighty thrust, burying himself inside her, she felt Harry give and spasm inside her, felt half a dozen hot spurts of his cum arc inside her and splash against her quaking inner walls. Each one sending shocks like miniature orgasms shooting through her entire lower body.

Now completely relaxed she felt Harry roll off her in an attempt not to crush her again but she didn’t want to let him escape that easily and quickly followed him, rolling over and snuggling up against his side. She was incredibly gratified when his arms wrapped around her; pulling her in an embrace even as Harry’s eyes closed. He murmured to her;

“Thank you, Pansy.”

She smiled into his shoulder where her head was comfortably resting and replied;

“I meant every word, you know.”

Harry’s only answer was the deep rhythmic sound of his sleeping breathing. That was alright though, Pansy thought as she drifted off into a contented sleep in the arms of her lover.


~sCeNeBrEaK2:ScEnEbReAkEr~

Early the next morning two friends wandered the halls of Hogwarts, as was usual for them; they were bickering.

“All, I’m saying Ron, is that maybe he wants to be alone!” said a slightly shrill female voice.

“He didn’t sleep in his bed, last night, Hermione!” replied Ron Weasley, “You can’t tell me that’s not bad news.”

“He went through a terrible ordeal last night, Ron and we..” Hermione Granger, said, or tried to; Ron, as was typical of his manners, interrupted her;

“We’re his friends! And we need to be there for him!” he said loudly.

“Of course we do, but when he’s ready, he’ll come to us,” Hermione stated in a matter of fact tone of voice, “Besides we don’t know where he is!”

“Of course we do!” Ron mimicked her and waved the parchment he was holding, “We still have the Marauder’s Map remember?”

Harry had given it to them the previous afternoon, after telling them to keep an eye of Draco Malfoy with the help of the DA but Malfoy’s Death Eaters had got past them.

“Which we can’t find him on!” Hermione said.

“So?” Said Ron, “That means one of two things, don’t it? Either he’s in done a runner and he's not on the grounds or he’s in the room of requirement isn’t he?”

They’d reached the seventh floor corridor at last and found the door. They looked at each other. Surely, the Room remained sealed when it was in use, right? But if it was empty, the door wouldn’t appear until they’d crossed it three times and told it want they wanted. Ron shrugged and indicated with a jerk of his head that they should try the door. Hermione threw up her hands in frustration and then tried the handle; it opened smoothly.

“Fine!” she said, walking inside, “but don’t blame me if we—oh,” she finished in a high squeak.

“Oh?” said Ron following her in, “’Mione, if we-.. what?”

His eyes bugged out as he saw what was in the room. Harry Potter, naked as the day he was in born was lying in a bed, with an equally naked girl; who was lying with her head on one his shoulders and an arm flung possessively over his chest. Ron’s eyes followed their bodies down, lingering on the side boob he could see pressed against Harry’s chest. Their waists were covered in crumpled and tussled duvet, thankfully, but from the shapes underneath and the positions of the four feet sticking out the end of the bed; Ron could tell their legs where still entwined beneath it.

The girl moaned slightly and shifted so her face, under a tangle of matted black hair, was now clearly visible.

Ron’s jaw dropped.

Harry Potter was shagging Pansy Parkinson.


[a/n: Well its finally out in the open… Thoughts? Theories? Critisims? Please Review, email at daye_49@yahoo.co.uk or use the forum thread at: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php?showtopic=14314]