Wind Him Up
Author: persephone33
Rating: PG
Word count: 369
Pairing: Ron/Pansy
Spoilers: None for canon. This is all in my head.
Warnings: It's unbeta'd. And there's a weird present tense thing going on in places. Sorry.
Author's Note: Written for jessicakmalfoy, in response to my Christmas drabble post. She said that she was "partial to D/G, but would hake anything that wasn't H/G to be honest." I adore R/P, so I hope you like them, too, Jessica. Have a merry Christmas!
"The Chudley Cannons are a bunch of tossers."
"Don't start, Parkinson."
"Can't be helped, Weasley. You should have to face the truth of it." Your Quidditch team is beyond awful. They're terrible. They're a league joke."
"Those are fighting words."
"I'm ever so scared."
"You should be. I'm not as nice as you seem to think I am."
I'm counting on it, she thinks, as she says, "I'm all a-shiver with fright."
"One day your elephant mouth is going to overload your hummingbird arse, Parkinson, and I swear, I don't care if you're a girl, and I don't care if you're my partner, I'm going to curse you so hard your grandchildren will feel it."
"No you won't."
He sighs, deflated. "Probably not. But you could be a little nicer, or at least not pick as many fights as you do."
"You love to fight with me. Admit it, Weasley. It's the best part of your day."
"Is not."
"Is, too."
"Is not."
"I'd say you were lying, Weasley, but everyone knows you can't do that properly."
"Yes, I can!" he says indignantly. "I can as well as you can."
Her laugh floats across the room. "Oh, Weasley, you sound as if you actually believe that."
"I do."
"You don't."
"I do! Parkinson, just shut the hell up."
She smiles and leans in. "Make me."
"I know what you're doing."
She startles. It's brief, and if Ron hadn't been studying her every move all day, every day for the past five years, he would have missed it.
She recovers beautifully, however, and shrugs a shoulder. "You think?"
"Yeah," he says, narrowing his eyes and leaning in towards her. "You're trying to have sex with me."
A pink tinge colors her cheeks and she tosses a wave of hair behind her shoulder. Ron feels a curling warmth in his stomach; he hadn't known until this moment that she did, but the look on her face seals it. She wants him.
"Am not."
He laughs. He's caught her in a lie. FINALLY. "You can do better than that. Come on, Parkinson. Convince me."
Ron is really not very surprised when she abandons the lie, pushes him onto the desk, and does just that.
Rating: PG
Word count: 369
Pairing: Ron/Pansy
Spoilers: None for canon. This is all in my head.
Warnings: It's unbeta'd. And there's a weird present tense thing going on in places. Sorry.
Author's Note: Written for jessicakmalfoy, in response to my Christmas drabble post. She said that she was "partial to D/G, but would hake anything that wasn't H/G to be honest." I adore R/P, so I hope you like them, too, Jessica. Have a merry Christmas!
"The Chudley Cannons are a bunch of tossers."
"Don't start, Parkinson."
"Can't be helped, Weasley. You should have to face the truth of it." Your Quidditch team is beyond awful. They're terrible. They're a league joke."
"Those are fighting words."
"I'm ever so scared."
"You should be. I'm not as nice as you seem to think I am."
I'm counting on it, she thinks, as she says, "I'm all a-shiver with fright."
"One day your elephant mouth is going to overload your hummingbird arse, Parkinson, and I swear, I don't care if you're a girl, and I don't care if you're my partner, I'm going to curse you so hard your grandchildren will feel it."
"No you won't."
He sighs, deflated. "Probably not. But you could be a little nicer, or at least not pick as many fights as you do."
"You love to fight with me. Admit it, Weasley. It's the best part of your day."
"Is not."
"Is, too."
"Is not."
"I'd say you were lying, Weasley, but everyone knows you can't do that properly."
"Yes, I can!" he says indignantly. "I can as well as you can."
Her laugh floats across the room. "Oh, Weasley, you sound as if you actually believe that."
"I do."
"You don't."
"I do! Parkinson, just shut the hell up."
She smiles and leans in. "Make me."
"I know what you're doing."
She startles. It's brief, and if Ron hadn't been studying her every move all day, every day for the past five years, he would have missed it.
She recovers beautifully, however, and shrugs a shoulder. "You think?"
"Yeah," he says, narrowing his eyes and leaning in towards her. "You're trying to have sex with me."
A pink tinge colors her cheeks and she tosses a wave of hair behind her shoulder. Ron feels a curling warmth in his stomach; he hadn't known until this moment that she did, but the look on her face seals it. She wants him.
"Am not."
He laughs. He's caught her in a lie. FINALLY. "You can do better than that. Come on, Parkinson. Convince me."
Ron is really not very surprised when she abandons the lie, pushes him onto the desk, and does just that.