Home (3/3)
Title: Home (2/3)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ron/Pansy
Word count: 5309
Rating: R++ For Pansy's mouth, her bad decisions and some naughtiness. :D
Warnings: Oh, my, so many warnings, where do I begin? Well, this was written over a span of MONTHS. It has two different authors, and the POV is wonky sometimes, in my opinion.
Author's Notes: On pages 14-26 of the word document, some of you might be interested to know that seegrim provided Ron's dialogue/characterization. I'm never as good without her. And a big smushy hug of thanks to raspberry_rave, who read it, edited it and still said nice things.
It had been nearly a month since the funeral, and Pansy had been working in her studio non-stop, trying to get her spring line ready. Draco seemed to know when she didn't want company, and that's exactly when he'd turn up.
"God, Pans," Draco snapped, finally reaching his breaking point at her silence. "You're even more morose today than usual. What crawled up your arse?"
Pansy glanced up from the dress form she was busy pinning and answered, "The thing I love most about you, Draco, is your tact." She considered for a moment and added, "And your bountiful mercy."
"I am merciful," he sniffed. "I didn't curse you to snap you out of it."
"Yes, well, that's progress, isn't it?"
"Not that I need progress, you understand," he countered. "I'm perfect as is."
"Darling, you shouldn't take everything your mum says to heart," Pansy offered, sliding a pin into a dart.
"I don't need anyone to tell me these things," Draco argued. "They simply are."
"Mmmhm," Pansy answered. "Of course."
"You really are in a sulk. You won't even insult me," Draco continued, moving over to the window to look at the expansive grounds of Beaumaris. "Haven't gotten laid in a bit, Pans? Need me to take care of you?"
"Oh, yes, Draco," Pansy deadpanned. "Take me manfully upon the cutting table. My loins ache for you."
Draco sipped from his glass and glared at her from the corner of his eye. "Well, there's no need to get nasty."
Pansy rolled her eyes and got back to work.
"But that's it, isn't it? No time to nip down to the pub and fuck a Quidditch player, then?" He glanced back out the window and pointed to the rose garden closest to the house, where a redheaded man was spreading mulch around the rosebushes. "You don't even have to go that far, love. There's a warm body just down there, and he's in your employ." He grinned. "His cock's probably not as satisfying as mine, but you can't have everything."
"No," Pansy answered quickly. Frowning, she bent her head and focused on the garment in front of her.
Draco looked from the woman to the window and back again. "Oh, no."
"Oh, no, what, Draco?" Pansy muttered through a mouthful of pins.
"You've already done it," he marveled. "You've already gone and let Weasley dip his wick in the company ink, as it were!" he crowed.
"Shut up," Pansy hissed. "No, he didn't."
"He might not have, but I'd warrant you got what you wanted, didn't you, you little minx?" Draco said, nearly gleeful at the thought.
"No, I didn't," she protested.
"What's wrong?" Draco asked. "Oh, god, he didn't go all noble and ask you to marry him after, did he? That's ridiculous."
Frowning, she asked, "Because no one would marry me?"
"What?" he asked incredulously. "No, because he's a bloody great ginger ape and a blood traitor and... just gross," Draco said matter-of-factly.
"Be quiet, Draco."
Draco considered his friend for a moment and shook his head. "You like him."
"Please, Draco, this is growing tiresome."
He tapped his lips in thought. "It isn't love, yet, because you won't let it be. But the desire is there. You'd take him to bed in an instant if he weren't a prude."
"He isn't a prude!" she shouted hotly.
Draco saw Ron's form headed to the house and took his chance. "He isn't? Then he won't mind if you've fucked someone else, then?" he asked, an impish grin on his face.
"Draco-"
"No, I'm going to need you to shout it, love," he said, beating on the door rhythmically with his fists and moaning theatrically. "Pansy, God, you feel good, I've wanted you for so long, you're so fucking hot, come for me! NOW!"
"Draco," Pansy shouted. "Stop it!"
Draco was thrown across the room as the door to Pansy's studio splintered with Ron standing on the other side, his wand drawn. Draco righted himself and picked up his glass, lifting it in Ron's direction. "Weasley. Good of you to drop in. Made a bit of a mess, though, haven't you?"
Ron's anger drained when he realized that both parties were not only fully dressed, but across the room from each other. What he'd thought was happening clearly wasn't.
"Well, I'm off," Draco said breezily, leaving his glass on Pansy's desk as he bent to kiss the top of her head. "Goodbye, darling. Carpe diem, and all that, though, right?" he said with a grin, then swept from the room.
"What a ponce," Ron muttered when they were alone.
"Mmm," Pansy agreed.
"Sorry about the mess. I'll clear it up for you."
Pansy looked at them and then picked up her pincushion again. "And get a new door."
"Oh," Ron said, "yeah, of course. Sorry about that. I just thought you were--"
"Fucking Draco Malfoy?" Pansy finished expectantly.
"I thought he was taking advantage of you," Ron said firmly. "I heard you say to stop."
"I normally do when I want something to end," Pansy said succinctly.
Ron stood and gazed at her for a moment as she went about her work. "I'm sorry."
She didn't even look up. "For the door? Yes, you've mentioned."
"No," he answered, "not for the door. For the night of the funeral."
"If memory serves, you've already apologized for that, too," she said. "You're a very good sorry sayer. I'll put something extra in your pay packet for that, alright?"
Ron knew that she couldn't mean this, they'd become nearly friends before he mucked it all up, he was sure of it. "Pansy," he began. "I don't know what to do or how I can make it right. I just want to go back to the way it was before-"
Pins dropped to the floor and Pansy whirled around. "You want to go back to calling me "Miss Parkinson" and mucking out the stables in peace? Fine," she roared. "Wish granted!"
Ron's temper finally reached its breaking point and he shouted, "No! That isn't it! That's not what I want! I want to see the side of you I caught a glimpse of when you were nursing Toddy. When you didn't have your 'lady of the manor' face on!"
"Sorry," Pansy said shortly. "That part of me died with her. If you're waiting around on it to surface again, you'll be very disappointed." She glared at him and surveyed the wreckage of the door. "Now if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you got back to work."
"Get someone else to work for you," Ron said, tiredly. "I quit."
~*~*~*~*~*~
A month passed, then two. Pansy's life got back to normal. She did another round of maddening interviews and still couldn't find anyone suitable to replace Weasley, though she did find several different people to approximate all his jobs. Her professional life was taking off, with dresses in several dozen shops all over Europe. She fell into a routine of working, sleeping and eating, and after some prodding from Draco finally decided to go to the pub and try to reclaim her sex life back, too. It had been months since anything had been printed about her in the tabloids, Draco had pointed out, and she was less tiresome when her knickers were around her ankles.
She'd cursed him and missed, and gone to the pub out of defiance more than anything else.
Once there, however, she found her heart wasn't in it. She didn't want just anyone, anymore. She wanted someone she could talk to, someone that wasn't going to be a risk to bring back to the house, someone who felt more than lust for her. She got rid of the bloke that sat next to her, telling her how nice her arse was, and then actually blacked the eye of the one that was a bit too handsy. Pansy was about to give it up for lost, when another man sat down beside her.
"Hello," he said, signaling the bartender for a drink.
"Go away," she said, not even bothering to look up.
"Well, I did go away, and it didn't work for me," he said.
She looked up to find earnest blue eyes patiently staring back at her. Ron Weasley was there, in the pub, and her heart rate increased exponentially, just by having him near.
"You quit," she pointed out.
"I didn't want to."
"Why not?"
"I liked the job," he said thoughtfully. "I liked the horses, and the gardens. It was peaceful. Hard work, but peaceful."
"Employer was awful, I expect," she offered.
"No. No, she wasn't. My employer was distant, at first. She made spectacularly bad choices when it came to men. She wasn't always nice. But then I got to know her, and I found that she was really a lovely person under all the bluster. She was beautiful. Bloody gorgeous, actually. And she kissed like no one I've ever known, before."
"Ah," Pansy said, nodding at the bartender for another. "Got in too deep, then."
"No," he said insistently. "Not deep enough. I took advantage of her at a time when she needed comfort, and I handled it badly."
"Maybe she didn't want to be apologized to," Pansy said stiffly. "Maybe she wanted more, too."
"Are we still talking about the same thing?" Ron asked, very nearly confused. "Can we have a drink and talk about this?"
"We are having a drink and talking about this," Pansy pointed out.
"I meant," he clarified, "somewhere else."
She finished her drink in one and slid from the barstool. "Come on."
He followed her out the door and asked, "Where are we going?"
"I'm going home," she said bluntly. "It seems like you want another shag. If you do, then you can come, too. If not, you can go sample some more of the local flavor."
"I don't want a shag," he said irritably.
"I thought as much." Shrugging, Pansy murmured, "Shame," and turned her back, continuing down the lane.
"Pansy, will you stop?" he called out, jogging to catch up with her. "Just stop. I don't want you just for your body!" he insisted, blushing. "I mean, it's very nice and I do think you're fantastically lovely, but--" He exhaled heavily and put his hands on her shoulders. "I've missed you. I've missed simply being around you. And I'd very much like to sleep with you again, but I'd like to do it properly. You know, take you out, buy your supper, kiss you for hours and then make love to you. Slowly. All night, if you'll let me."
Pansy looked up at him and waited.
"I think that this," Ron continued, indicating the space between them, "is partly your misplaced sense of propriety and partly an act to save your face. I think you've missed me, too. I think we could have something, Pansy. You and I, together, even though I used to work for you. It doesn't matter." He touched one of her long, dark curls with a finger, searching her face for a glimmer of hope. "It doesn't matter to me."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, put the man out of his misery, Pansy," Draco said, strolling out of the pub. He was limping and had a black eye, but seemed in a good mood, nonetheless.
Ron and Pansy both glared at the blond man surprised to see him, but he merely smiled in response. "You two are too stupid to see what's right in front of you. Well," he relented, "Weasley's not, ironically, but Pansy, darling. Wise up. Go be happy. We won't tell anyone."
"It was you, in the pub?" Pansy asked.
Draco nodded. "You're much brighter than anyone gives you credit for, Pans. And you've a mean left hook. Yes, it was me. It was also me that told Weasley you'd be here, tonight."
He gave a cheery wave and went back inside the pub, leaving Pansy stunned, looking at the closed door.
Ron leaned over and whispered, "You know, I'm usually the last person to agree with Malfoy, but don't you think we could give it a go?"
Pansy tossed her hair over a shoulder and lifted her chin. "Alright," she said softly.
"Alright," he said triumphantly, and then repeated the word. "Alright?" he asked. "Alright to giving it a go, or to a date, or to letting me walk you home, or..."
"Alright to all of those," Pansy replied.
Ron grinned, the expression spreading slowly across his face. He drew her close, cupping her face in his large hands, and pressed his lips to hers. A warmth spread throughout her body, and Pansy wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him against her. He wouldn't be rushed, he took his time, tasting her, running his hands through her hair, and simply holding her.
After a few catcalls from passersby, he pulled away and looked down at her. "Have dinner with me?"
She nodded. For once in her life she wouldn't be stubborn, or flippant, or dismissive. "I will," she agreed. "But I have a caveat."
He took her hand and they started off down the street. "What's that?" he asked
"I get to take you home afterwards."
Ron chuckled. "Anything you want."
Pansy smiled up at him. "With that attitude, Ron Weasley, I think that we might have a chance."
He mirrored her expression and replied, "We might, Pansy. We might at that."
The End
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ron/Pansy
Word count: 5309
Rating: R++ For Pansy's mouth, her bad decisions and some naughtiness. :D
Warnings: Oh, my, so many warnings, where do I begin? Well, this was written over a span of MONTHS. It has two different authors, and the POV is wonky sometimes, in my opinion.
Author's Notes: On pages 14-26 of the word document, some of you might be interested to know that seegrim provided Ron's dialogue/characterization. I'm never as good without her. And a big smushy hug of thanks to raspberry_rave, who read it, edited it and still said nice things.
It had been nearly a month since the funeral, and Pansy had been working in her studio non-stop, trying to get her spring line ready. Draco seemed to know when she didn't want company, and that's exactly when he'd turn up.
"God, Pans," Draco snapped, finally reaching his breaking point at her silence. "You're even more morose today than usual. What crawled up your arse?"
Pansy glanced up from the dress form she was busy pinning and answered, "The thing I love most about you, Draco, is your tact." She considered for a moment and added, "And your bountiful mercy."
"I am merciful," he sniffed. "I didn't curse you to snap you out of it."
"Yes, well, that's progress, isn't it?"
"Not that I need progress, you understand," he countered. "I'm perfect as is."
"Darling, you shouldn't take everything your mum says to heart," Pansy offered, sliding a pin into a dart.
"I don't need anyone to tell me these things," Draco argued. "They simply are."
"Mmmhm," Pansy answered. "Of course."
"You really are in a sulk. You won't even insult me," Draco continued, moving over to the window to look at the expansive grounds of Beaumaris. "Haven't gotten laid in a bit, Pans? Need me to take care of you?"
"Oh, yes, Draco," Pansy deadpanned. "Take me manfully upon the cutting table. My loins ache for you."
Draco sipped from his glass and glared at her from the corner of his eye. "Well, there's no need to get nasty."
Pansy rolled her eyes and got back to work.
"But that's it, isn't it? No time to nip down to the pub and fuck a Quidditch player, then?" He glanced back out the window and pointed to the rose garden closest to the house, where a redheaded man was spreading mulch around the rosebushes. "You don't even have to go that far, love. There's a warm body just down there, and he's in your employ." He grinned. "His cock's probably not as satisfying as mine, but you can't have everything."
"No," Pansy answered quickly. Frowning, she bent her head and focused on the garment in front of her.
Draco looked from the woman to the window and back again. "Oh, no."
"Oh, no, what, Draco?" Pansy muttered through a mouthful of pins.
"You've already done it," he marveled. "You've already gone and let Weasley dip his wick in the company ink, as it were!" he crowed.
"Shut up," Pansy hissed. "No, he didn't."
"He might not have, but I'd warrant you got what you wanted, didn't you, you little minx?" Draco said, nearly gleeful at the thought.
"No, I didn't," she protested.
"What's wrong?" Draco asked. "Oh, god, he didn't go all noble and ask you to marry him after, did he? That's ridiculous."
Frowning, she asked, "Because no one would marry me?"
"What?" he asked incredulously. "No, because he's a bloody great ginger ape and a blood traitor and... just gross," Draco said matter-of-factly.
"Be quiet, Draco."
Draco considered his friend for a moment and shook his head. "You like him."
"Please, Draco, this is growing tiresome."
He tapped his lips in thought. "It isn't love, yet, because you won't let it be. But the desire is there. You'd take him to bed in an instant if he weren't a prude."
"He isn't a prude!" she shouted hotly.
Draco saw Ron's form headed to the house and took his chance. "He isn't? Then he won't mind if you've fucked someone else, then?" he asked, an impish grin on his face.
"Draco-"
"No, I'm going to need you to shout it, love," he said, beating on the door rhythmically with his fists and moaning theatrically. "Pansy, God, you feel good, I've wanted you for so long, you're so fucking hot, come for me! NOW!"
"Draco," Pansy shouted. "Stop it!"
Draco was thrown across the room as the door to Pansy's studio splintered with Ron standing on the other side, his wand drawn. Draco righted himself and picked up his glass, lifting it in Ron's direction. "Weasley. Good of you to drop in. Made a bit of a mess, though, haven't you?"
Ron's anger drained when he realized that both parties were not only fully dressed, but across the room from each other. What he'd thought was happening clearly wasn't.
"Well, I'm off," Draco said breezily, leaving his glass on Pansy's desk as he bent to kiss the top of her head. "Goodbye, darling. Carpe diem, and all that, though, right?" he said with a grin, then swept from the room.
"What a ponce," Ron muttered when they were alone.
"Mmm," Pansy agreed.
"Sorry about the mess. I'll clear it up for you."
Pansy looked at them and then picked up her pincushion again. "And get a new door."
"Oh," Ron said, "yeah, of course. Sorry about that. I just thought you were--"
"Fucking Draco Malfoy?" Pansy finished expectantly.
"I thought he was taking advantage of you," Ron said firmly. "I heard you say to stop."
"I normally do when I want something to end," Pansy said succinctly.
Ron stood and gazed at her for a moment as she went about her work. "I'm sorry."
She didn't even look up. "For the door? Yes, you've mentioned."
"No," he answered, "not for the door. For the night of the funeral."
"If memory serves, you've already apologized for that, too," she said. "You're a very good sorry sayer. I'll put something extra in your pay packet for that, alright?"
Ron knew that she couldn't mean this, they'd become nearly friends before he mucked it all up, he was sure of it. "Pansy," he began. "I don't know what to do or how I can make it right. I just want to go back to the way it was before-"
Pins dropped to the floor and Pansy whirled around. "You want to go back to calling me "Miss Parkinson" and mucking out the stables in peace? Fine," she roared. "Wish granted!"
Ron's temper finally reached its breaking point and he shouted, "No! That isn't it! That's not what I want! I want to see the side of you I caught a glimpse of when you were nursing Toddy. When you didn't have your 'lady of the manor' face on!"
"Sorry," Pansy said shortly. "That part of me died with her. If you're waiting around on it to surface again, you'll be very disappointed." She glared at him and surveyed the wreckage of the door. "Now if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you got back to work."
"Get someone else to work for you," Ron said, tiredly. "I quit."
~*~*~*~*~*~
A month passed, then two. Pansy's life got back to normal. She did another round of maddening interviews and still couldn't find anyone suitable to replace Weasley, though she did find several different people to approximate all his jobs. Her professional life was taking off, with dresses in several dozen shops all over Europe. She fell into a routine of working, sleeping and eating, and after some prodding from Draco finally decided to go to the pub and try to reclaim her sex life back, too. It had been months since anything had been printed about her in the tabloids, Draco had pointed out, and she was less tiresome when her knickers were around her ankles.
She'd cursed him and missed, and gone to the pub out of defiance more than anything else.
Once there, however, she found her heart wasn't in it. She didn't want just anyone, anymore. She wanted someone she could talk to, someone that wasn't going to be a risk to bring back to the house, someone who felt more than lust for her. She got rid of the bloke that sat next to her, telling her how nice her arse was, and then actually blacked the eye of the one that was a bit too handsy. Pansy was about to give it up for lost, when another man sat down beside her.
"Hello," he said, signaling the bartender for a drink.
"Go away," she said, not even bothering to look up.
"Well, I did go away, and it didn't work for me," he said.
She looked up to find earnest blue eyes patiently staring back at her. Ron Weasley was there, in the pub, and her heart rate increased exponentially, just by having him near.
"You quit," she pointed out.
"I didn't want to."
"Why not?"
"I liked the job," he said thoughtfully. "I liked the horses, and the gardens. It was peaceful. Hard work, but peaceful."
"Employer was awful, I expect," she offered.
"No. No, she wasn't. My employer was distant, at first. She made spectacularly bad choices when it came to men. She wasn't always nice. But then I got to know her, and I found that she was really a lovely person under all the bluster. She was beautiful. Bloody gorgeous, actually. And she kissed like no one I've ever known, before."
"Ah," Pansy said, nodding at the bartender for another. "Got in too deep, then."
"No," he said insistently. "Not deep enough. I took advantage of her at a time when she needed comfort, and I handled it badly."
"Maybe she didn't want to be apologized to," Pansy said stiffly. "Maybe she wanted more, too."
"Are we still talking about the same thing?" Ron asked, very nearly confused. "Can we have a drink and talk about this?"
"We are having a drink and talking about this," Pansy pointed out.
"I meant," he clarified, "somewhere else."
She finished her drink in one and slid from the barstool. "Come on."
He followed her out the door and asked, "Where are we going?"
"I'm going home," she said bluntly. "It seems like you want another shag. If you do, then you can come, too. If not, you can go sample some more of the local flavor."
"I don't want a shag," he said irritably.
"I thought as much." Shrugging, Pansy murmured, "Shame," and turned her back, continuing down the lane.
"Pansy, will you stop?" he called out, jogging to catch up with her. "Just stop. I don't want you just for your body!" he insisted, blushing. "I mean, it's very nice and I do think you're fantastically lovely, but--" He exhaled heavily and put his hands on her shoulders. "I've missed you. I've missed simply being around you. And I'd very much like to sleep with you again, but I'd like to do it properly. You know, take you out, buy your supper, kiss you for hours and then make love to you. Slowly. All night, if you'll let me."
Pansy looked up at him and waited.
"I think that this," Ron continued, indicating the space between them, "is partly your misplaced sense of propriety and partly an act to save your face. I think you've missed me, too. I think we could have something, Pansy. You and I, together, even though I used to work for you. It doesn't matter." He touched one of her long, dark curls with a finger, searching her face for a glimmer of hope. "It doesn't matter to me."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, put the man out of his misery, Pansy," Draco said, strolling out of the pub. He was limping and had a black eye, but seemed in a good mood, nonetheless.
Ron and Pansy both glared at the blond man surprised to see him, but he merely smiled in response. "You two are too stupid to see what's right in front of you. Well," he relented, "Weasley's not, ironically, but Pansy, darling. Wise up. Go be happy. We won't tell anyone."
"It was you, in the pub?" Pansy asked.
Draco nodded. "You're much brighter than anyone gives you credit for, Pans. And you've a mean left hook. Yes, it was me. It was also me that told Weasley you'd be here, tonight."
He gave a cheery wave and went back inside the pub, leaving Pansy stunned, looking at the closed door.
Ron leaned over and whispered, "You know, I'm usually the last person to agree with Malfoy, but don't you think we could give it a go?"
Pansy tossed her hair over a shoulder and lifted her chin. "Alright," she said softly.
"Alright," he said triumphantly, and then repeated the word. "Alright?" he asked. "Alright to giving it a go, or to a date, or to letting me walk you home, or..."
"Alright to all of those," Pansy replied.
Ron grinned, the expression spreading slowly across his face. He drew her close, cupping her face in his large hands, and pressed his lips to hers. A warmth spread throughout her body, and Pansy wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him against her. He wouldn't be rushed, he took his time, tasting her, running his hands through her hair, and simply holding her.
After a few catcalls from passersby, he pulled away and looked down at her. "Have dinner with me?"
She nodded. For once in her life she wouldn't be stubborn, or flippant, or dismissive. "I will," she agreed. "But I have a caveat."
He took her hand and they started off down the street. "What's that?" he asked
"I get to take you home afterwards."
Ron chuckled. "Anything you want."
Pansy smiled up at him. "With that attitude, Ron Weasley, I think that we might have a chance."
He mirrored her expression and replied, "We might, Pansy. We might at that."
The End
Chapter One
Chapter Two