A Lean and Hungry Look (Part 6/6)
Chapter XI
Pansy pushed the wheeled chair further into the garden of her estate. She found a nice spot near the roses, slightly in shade with a stone bench and a medium sized hedge to give them a bit of privacy. She turned the chair and set the brakes, settling down on the bench and giving her companion a winsome smile.
She received an eye roll in return.
“Is there a reason you felt so compelled to force me outdoors? Unless this is all part of a bigger plan to facilitate my escape? If that’s the case, I’ll be off. Though I was looking forward to my evening sponge bath from Healer Brandt.”
Pansy snorted despite herself, reaching out to tuck the blanket more securely around Dawlish’s legs. “Healer Brandt, eh? And here I thought Healer McGuffin had caught your fancy.”
A slight flush reddened Dawlish’s stoic features, and Pansy chuckled and wagged her eyebrows at him. Mercedes McGuffin was around Dawlish’s age, sweet natured, and rather attractive. Pansy had seen them speaking several times, and although she’d never overheard anything less than professional, there was a look about them.
“Alas, I have no escape plan in store for you. I just thought you could do with a bit of fresh air.”
The older man made a sour face, but didn’t complain. They sat in silence for several minutes, both content to sit companionably and dwell among their own thoughts. Pansy had been by his side everyday for the three weeks he’d been a injured. Three weeks since he’d almost died, since a few yards of cloth had forced the killing curse to rebound from him. It hadn’t left him totally unscathed, of course. He still hadn’t regained the ability to walk yet, but the healers were certain he would eventually. They just weren’t sure when.
“So why don’t you tell me why you’re continuing to waste so much time sitting here with me instead of living your life?”
Pansy looked over at him with a frown. “Perhaps I enjoy your company. Maybe I’ve decided to give Healer McGuffin a run for her money.”
Dawlish laughed, a wheezy, half-choked sound. “As charming as I find your company, I can’t help but wonder if it’s guilt or some other useless emotion.” He took her hand. “You realize that the curse wouldn’t have touched you. I didn’t save your life, you saved mine.”
Pansy looked away, feeling tears gather in her eyes. She gritted her teeth against the weakness, but couldn’t keep the emotion out of her voice when she answered almost unwillingly. “And you saved hers.”
Out of Pansy’s line of sight, Dawlish’s face split into a self-congratulatory grin. “Ah, yes. How is the lovely Ms. Granger?”
Pansy shrugged. “How should I know? It isn’t as if we’re friends.” The truth was, Pansy thought of Hermione constantly. She hadn’t seen her since the confrontation in her father’s study. When Hermione had owled her the next day, Pansy hadn’t answered, too busy sorting out the mess at her estate. At least that was what she’d told herself at the time. Hermione hadn’t owled again, and Pansy tried to tell herself that it was for the best.
“I was under the impression that you were rather more than that.”
“Just because I fuck someone doesn’t make us friends,” Pansy said scathingly, uttering a rare vulgarity in the hopes that Dawlish would drop the subject.
“You don’t expect me to swallow that load of codswallop, do you?” Dawlish tugged on her hand, forcing Pansy to meet his eyes again. “I’m not nearly as stupid as I look, and you aren’t even close to being as heartless as you try to appear. You have feelings for her, and you’re throwing away a perfectly good chance at happiness.”
“You’re wrong.”
“I’m not, and I’ll tell you why. I watched someone who had no reason to, exhaust herself trying to figure out who was after you and how to stop it. She came into my office and demanded to know what was going on in Sudbury, did you know that?” Pansy shook her head. “You say I saved her life. And why did I need to do that? Because she placed herself between you and a killing curse. Those are not the actions of someone out for a quick fuck and nothing more.”
Pansy shook off the shock at Dawlish’s language. “It doesn’t matter. It would never work.”
“It seemed to be working just fine.”
“It wouldn’t have lasted!” Pansy hissed. “I don’t know how to be in a relationship! I poison everything. My parents tried to kill me! What does that say about my capacity for intimacy?” She pulled her hand from his grip, standing to pace around the small space.
“Are you quite through? Because I don’t have the stomach to listen to that tripe. Your parents were sociopathic power mongers who used you and everyone else they came into contact with to get ahead. They weren’t worth the scant three seconds the world grieved their death.” Dawlish’s voice was severe, and Pansy felt the tears she’d been holding back roll down her cheeks. “Stop letting your past dictate your future! You’re stronger and better than that. That woman loves you, no matter how unworthy you seem to think you are.” He paused, gentling his voice. “Do you love her Pansy?”
“Of course I love her!” Pansy yelled. “Who wouldn’t love her, she’s bloody perfect! But what do I possibly have to offer her? A house full of crazy muggles, and a tainted name?”
“Maybe that’s all she wants,” Hermione said, stepping away from the hedge. “Well that and mind blowing sex, but I’m assuming that you’d be cooperative in that respect.”
Pansy spun and gaped at the woman standing a few feet away. “G...granger. What are you doing here?”
“I got tired of waiting for you to stop hiding,” Hermione said, closing the distance between them, and reaching up to cup Pansy’s cheek. “I miss you.”
Pansy leaned in to the touch, closing her eyes and feeling peaceful for the first time in weeks.
“Stop running Pansy. I love you, and I’ll just catch you anyway.”
A smile broke out on Pansy’s face. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you Granger.”
Hermione smiled back. “Well I am the brightest witch of my age. Just ask anyone.” She tugged Pansy closer. “Would you kiss me already?”
“Bossy,” Pansy whispered, pulling the insufferable know-it-all into a kiss.
Dawlish caught the soft adjective, but managed to keep the smirk off his face. He’d always suspected that Granger was a top.
Epilogue
Hermione was on her hands and knees rooting through a drawer in the massive wardrobe. “Pansy!” she yelled, “Have you seen my stockings? I swear I put them in here last week.”
“Merlin Granger. Don’t get your knickers in a twist. They’re right here.” Pansy entered their bedroom, stockings in hand. “Especially when they are such nice knickers.” Her voice dropped to a low tone seeing the current state of dress, or rather undress her lover was in.
Hermione turned and stood, placing a hand on a silk covered hip. “What, this old thing?” She gestured to the obviously new ivory bustier and matching panties, tugging on one of her garters just to toy with Pansy.
“Minx,” Pansy breathed, crossing the room and taking Hermione into her arms faster than either of them expected. She drew their lips together fiercely and pressed the other woman up against the wardrobe.
“We’re going to be late,” Hermione breathed, trailing her lips down Pansy’s neck and into the cleavage the brunette’s robe revealed.
“It’s Longbottom. We have at least an extra half-hour of minor catastrophe built in.” Pansy gave a small yelp as Hermione tweaked one of her nipples.
“He’s our friend,” she chastised while pulling the silver robe from Pansy’s shoulders. Hermione leaned back to take in the beauty before her. “God you’re amazing.”
Pansy smirked and stepped out of Hermione’s arms. She walked backwards until she was at the edge of their bed. Naked, she sat on the edge and beckoned Hermione over with one finger. “Care to find out how amazing?”
“Oh, I’m fairly certain I know exactly how amazing you are,” Hermione said, sauntering over to her lover. She crawled up Pansy’s body, leaving a trail of kisses and goose bumps in her wake. “But I’ve always been a proponent of in-depth study,” she growled against soft lips.
***
Hermione and Pansy watched as two of their closest friends pledged their lives to one another. Hannah was beautiful in a gown that Pansy had designed, and Neville was more handsome than either of them could ever recall.
Pansy reached out and took Hermione’s hand in her own as the happy couple sealed their commitment with a kiss. Hermione looked over at her partner and smiled, utterly happy.
Long after the celebration had ended they lay together in their bed in a house full of damaged muggles, house elves, healers, and one rather crotchety ex-auror. And it was more than either of them could have wanted or desired.
The End.