WISHLISTS: Purple Flowers (Ginny/Pansy)
Author: sw33tch3rrypi3
Recipient: DIGTHEWRITER
Title: Purple Flowers
Pairing: Ginny/Pansy
Request/Prompt Used: Matchmaking friends and A/B hating each other at first (Sort of-I tried! Pansy wasn’t having it, she was too interested in a shag to rise to Ginny’s temper. I think she’s been in a dry spell, poor girl.)/Showing up on a blind date and not realizing that the person you were talking to this whole time WAS NOT YOUR DATE/"I just have to tell you this. I hate you, but you're f-ing sexy."/ Redeemed (but still snarky!) Pansy/Pansy + Draco friendship background/Pansy + Harry Potter friendship background
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1412
Summary: Ginny is stunned when she shows up for a blind date.
Notes: This hasn’t been betaed, but I do write for a living, so hopefully it isn’t too rough! Mentions of H/D (I’m sorry honey, I had to do it, or the leap to conclusions on Ginny’s part made no sense.) For Dig--Thank you for your endless patience with me. XOXO
Ginny Weasley paused outside the Leaky Cauldron and actively worked at changing her brooding expression into a smile. Damn Harry for setting her up on this blind date without her permission. She was certain it was the influence of his boyfriend-that blond menace delighted in making her life difficult. Feeling her face relax at last, she used the reflective window glass next to the door to smooth her long, curled hair and then the skirt of her green sundress. She’d tried her best to get out of it, of course, but Harry had given her that look-the, “Oh-aren’t-I-a-poor-motherless-orphan” hangdog look--and told her that he couldn’t possibly contact this mystery woman at the last minute and disappoint her. Ginny had glared and threatened, but with Draco backing him up, Harry had refused to be moved. “It’s an hour of your life,” he’d finally said, throwing up his hands. “It isn’t going to kill you.”
Ginny rolled her shoulders, willing her face not to tighten up again. She didn’t even know this woman’s name; when she’d asked, Harry had just said Ginny would know her because she’d have a purple flower. Well, at least there was that. She resolved to surreptitiously scan the patrons in the pub and only go through with this ridiculous idea if she found her date comely. After all, if Harry had done a poor job attempting to match her, he only had himself to blame for any hurt feelings. With a final deep breath, she put on a brilliant smile and entered the pub.
She was surprised by how quickly she found the woman. She was only turned halfway toward Ginny, wearing a sleeveless purple dress with her dark hair pulled up into a bun and the purple flower adorning it, just behind her ear. From what Ginny could tell, the witch was on the petite side with delicate features but luscious curves. Alright, perhaps Harry and the blond prat had some taste. She approached the bar and slipped into the seat next to her date, turning toward the mystery woman with a now-genuine smile.
That smile fell when the woman likewise turned toward Ginny and arched a delicate brow. “Yes, Weasley?”
“Fuck me,” Ginny breathed. “Pansy Parkinson.”
The Slytherin witch’s expression turned amused as she sipped from her martini. “Well,” she said once she swallowed, “generally I expect dinner, first.” Her dark blue eyes scanned Ginny from the top of her head to her toes, and then back again. “Though, I suppose there is always an exception to be made.”
Damn Parkinson and her jokes. Ginny knew she was blushing, and she busied herself with ordering her drink, paying, and squeezing the orange wedge into her ale. What on earth could Harry have been thinking? She knew he, Malfoy, and Parkinson were friends and often did things together. But Harry had always invited Ginny along, and surely he’d seen her look of distaste before she declined each time? There was just something about Pansy-something she couldn’t put her finger on, but she didn’t like the feeling and so she disliked the woman. She hadn’t dreamed that all those invitations were matchmaking attempts. He and Malfoy must’ve finally gotten fed up and cooked up this cockamamie plan, the rotters. Finally, when she felt less like a muddle-mouthed child, she turned her attention back to Pansy with a glare. “The, ‘Oh, Weasley’s so poor she can’t afford dinner’ cracks got old a long time ago, Parkinson.”
Pansy smooth, pale brow wrinkled slightly with confusion. “I wouldn’t think you are poor. You just extended your contract with the Harpies, didn’t you?” She lowered her eyes and took another sip from her glass.
Ginny blinked, uncertain again. “Y-Yes. That hasn’t been released to the press. How did you know?”
Parkinson waved a careless hand, but still didn’t meet her eyes. “Oh, Draco and Potter talk about you whenever we have dinner.”
“Oh.” Ginny coughed. “Still, what could they be thinking? I’m surprised Malfoy was okay with you coming here tonight.”
Pansy finally looked at Ginny properly and blinked her flawlessly made-up lashes. “Draco?” She tossed her head and giggled, and Ginny found the sound enchanting, rather than grating as she had at school. “My, you are out of the loop, aren’t you? I don’t need Draco’s permission for…anything.” She winked.
Ginny took a deep draw of ale and looked everywhere but at Parkinson.
“You’re looking well,” Pansy offered. “A little-"
Tense, Ginny cut her off. “Yes, yes, I know, flat-chested. Still President of the Bitty Tittied Witches’ Committee, as you so cleverly used to say.”
“I was going to say you looked a little tense, actually.” Pansy had gone back to looking amused. “You really don’t know anything, do you, Weasley?” When Ginny just glared at her, she called for another round.
Two Hours Later
Pansy had scooted her barstool closer to Ginny’s, and they both had a respectable number of discarded glasses. The redhead turned, a bit sluggishly, and glanced over Pansy’s form. “Why did you come tonight?”
The other woman shrugged. “Wanted some company,” she said laconically. She looked back at Ginny and her tongue darted out to moisten her full lips.
“Damn.” Ginny squirmed, trying and failing to work up her glare again. “I have to tell you this. I hate you, but you’re fucking sexy.”
“You hate me?” Pansy pouted.
Ginny stared at her temptingly pursed lips. “Okay, so maybe hate is a strong word…”
“Thomas, another round for me and my new-friend.” Pansy looked at Ginny from under her lashes. “You are a brilliant chaser. That was a rotten call against you last week.”
“It really was!” Ginny burst out without thought. She pressed her own lips together, wriggling again when Pansy laughed softly. She got the feeling that she had missed the point at which she’d plunged out of her depth.
Another Two Hours Later
“Yeah, but you were such a bitsh, Parkinson,” Ginny muttered, laying her head in her arms on the bar top.
“Shtill am, darling,” Pansy hiccupped delicately and killed off her current appletini. “But you ushed to be shmarter,” she slurred. “Even when I didn’t like you, you were brilliant and radiated magshical ability, and that turned me on and I didn’t like you even more.”
Ginny harrumphed and sipped from the dwindling ale in her glass.
“I like your perfect titsh Weashley, you idiot.”
Ginny blinked into her glass, and then emptied it. “I think we shoul-shooooould drink water.”
“Water’sh good. I like Water.”
And Another Two Hours Later
“Come on, come on,” Pansy muttered, managing to unfasten the hooks of Ginny’s strapless brassiere backward and in the dark.
“I’m trying!” The redhead cursed again as the tiny zipper of Pansy’s dress slipped out of her grasp. “Oh for fuck’s sake, was this dress part of the Janus Thickey line, by chance?” she groused. She felt Pansy’s soft form shake against her with laughter as the brunette nibbled at her throat. Ginny was distracted from her task by more of the slow, drugging kisses that had finally urged them out of the pub and back to Pansy’s flat. She felt fingers slide into her hair and twist. “Ouch! A bit more gently, would you?”
Pansy’s grip on Ginny’s hips loosened. “Sorry, sorry!”
“Wait, what-” she felt the tug on her hair again and yelped. “Turn on the light, would you?” The warmth of Pansy left her, and she heard the whispery sounds of the other woman moving around to light the lanterns, creating a cozy glow in the room. Ginny looked up and swatted at the hovering owl. “Out of my hair!” The owl flew a bit lower and extended its leg, allowing Ginny to take the envelope.
“What is it?” Pansy murmured lowly, managing to unzip her own dress as Ginny read the note.
Gin,
I’m SO sorry. I just heard from Eleanor that she chickened out and didn’t show. I hope you aren’t too angry. I’ll try to
Floo you tomorrow. - Harry
“Weasley?” Ginny looked up to find Pansy tugging down her dress and undulating her hips as she pushed the fabric to the floor, leaving her in black lace lingerie. The brunette bit her lip, looking uncharacteristically uncertain, and Ginny, laughing, reached out to tug her closer, tossing the note aside with her other hand.
“Life’s just funny, is all.” Then there was no more laughing as she reclaimed Pansy’s lips.
Recipient: DIGTHEWRITER
Title: Purple Flowers
Pairing: Ginny/Pansy
Request/Prompt Used: Matchmaking friends and A/B hating each other at first (Sort of-I tried! Pansy wasn’t having it, she was too interested in a shag to rise to Ginny’s temper. I think she’s been in a dry spell, poor girl.)/Showing up on a blind date and not realizing that the person you were talking to this whole time WAS NOT YOUR DATE/"I just have to tell you this. I hate you, but you're f-ing sexy."/ Redeemed (but still snarky!) Pansy/Pansy + Draco friendship background/Pansy + Harry Potter friendship background
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1412
Summary: Ginny is stunned when she shows up for a blind date.
Notes: This hasn’t been betaed, but I do write for a living, so hopefully it isn’t too rough! Mentions of H/D (I’m sorry honey, I had to do it, or the leap to conclusions on Ginny’s part made no sense.) For Dig--Thank you for your endless patience with me. XOXO
Ginny Weasley paused outside the Leaky Cauldron and actively worked at changing her brooding expression into a smile. Damn Harry for setting her up on this blind date without her permission. She was certain it was the influence of his boyfriend-that blond menace delighted in making her life difficult. Feeling her face relax at last, she used the reflective window glass next to the door to smooth her long, curled hair and then the skirt of her green sundress. She’d tried her best to get out of it, of course, but Harry had given her that look-the, “Oh-aren’t-I-a-poor-motherless-orphan” hangdog look--and told her that he couldn’t possibly contact this mystery woman at the last minute and disappoint her. Ginny had glared and threatened, but with Draco backing him up, Harry had refused to be moved. “It’s an hour of your life,” he’d finally said, throwing up his hands. “It isn’t going to kill you.”
Ginny rolled her shoulders, willing her face not to tighten up again. She didn’t even know this woman’s name; when she’d asked, Harry had just said Ginny would know her because she’d have a purple flower. Well, at least there was that. She resolved to surreptitiously scan the patrons in the pub and only go through with this ridiculous idea if she found her date comely. After all, if Harry had done a poor job attempting to match her, he only had himself to blame for any hurt feelings. With a final deep breath, she put on a brilliant smile and entered the pub.
She was surprised by how quickly she found the woman. She was only turned halfway toward Ginny, wearing a sleeveless purple dress with her dark hair pulled up into a bun and the purple flower adorning it, just behind her ear. From what Ginny could tell, the witch was on the petite side with delicate features but luscious curves. Alright, perhaps Harry and the blond prat had some taste. She approached the bar and slipped into the seat next to her date, turning toward the mystery woman with a now-genuine smile.
That smile fell when the woman likewise turned toward Ginny and arched a delicate brow. “Yes, Weasley?”
“Fuck me,” Ginny breathed. “Pansy Parkinson.”
The Slytherin witch’s expression turned amused as she sipped from her martini. “Well,” she said once she swallowed, “generally I expect dinner, first.” Her dark blue eyes scanned Ginny from the top of her head to her toes, and then back again. “Though, I suppose there is always an exception to be made.”
Damn Parkinson and her jokes. Ginny knew she was blushing, and she busied herself with ordering her drink, paying, and squeezing the orange wedge into her ale. What on earth could Harry have been thinking? She knew he, Malfoy, and Parkinson were friends and often did things together. But Harry had always invited Ginny along, and surely he’d seen her look of distaste before she declined each time? There was just something about Pansy-something she couldn’t put her finger on, but she didn’t like the feeling and so she disliked the woman. She hadn’t dreamed that all those invitations were matchmaking attempts. He and Malfoy must’ve finally gotten fed up and cooked up this cockamamie plan, the rotters. Finally, when she felt less like a muddle-mouthed child, she turned her attention back to Pansy with a glare. “The, ‘Oh, Weasley’s so poor she can’t afford dinner’ cracks got old a long time ago, Parkinson.”
Pansy smooth, pale brow wrinkled slightly with confusion. “I wouldn’t think you are poor. You just extended your contract with the Harpies, didn’t you?” She lowered her eyes and took another sip from her glass.
Ginny blinked, uncertain again. “Y-Yes. That hasn’t been released to the press. How did you know?”
Parkinson waved a careless hand, but still didn’t meet her eyes. “Oh, Draco and Potter talk about you whenever we have dinner.”
“Oh.” Ginny coughed. “Still, what could they be thinking? I’m surprised Malfoy was okay with you coming here tonight.”
Pansy finally looked at Ginny properly and blinked her flawlessly made-up lashes. “Draco?” She tossed her head and giggled, and Ginny found the sound enchanting, rather than grating as she had at school. “My, you are out of the loop, aren’t you? I don’t need Draco’s permission for…anything.” She winked.
Ginny took a deep draw of ale and looked everywhere but at Parkinson.
“You’re looking well,” Pansy offered. “A little-"
Tense, Ginny cut her off. “Yes, yes, I know, flat-chested. Still President of the Bitty Tittied Witches’ Committee, as you so cleverly used to say.”
“I was going to say you looked a little tense, actually.” Pansy had gone back to looking amused. “You really don’t know anything, do you, Weasley?” When Ginny just glared at her, she called for another round.
Two Hours Later
Pansy had scooted her barstool closer to Ginny’s, and they both had a respectable number of discarded glasses. The redhead turned, a bit sluggishly, and glanced over Pansy’s form. “Why did you come tonight?”
The other woman shrugged. “Wanted some company,” she said laconically. She looked back at Ginny and her tongue darted out to moisten her full lips.
“Damn.” Ginny squirmed, trying and failing to work up her glare again. “I have to tell you this. I hate you, but you’re fucking sexy.”
“You hate me?” Pansy pouted.
Ginny stared at her temptingly pursed lips. “Okay, so maybe hate is a strong word…”
“Thomas, another round for me and my new-friend.” Pansy looked at Ginny from under her lashes. “You are a brilliant chaser. That was a rotten call against you last week.”
“It really was!” Ginny burst out without thought. She pressed her own lips together, wriggling again when Pansy laughed softly. She got the feeling that she had missed the point at which she’d plunged out of her depth.
Another Two Hours Later
“Yeah, but you were such a bitsh, Parkinson,” Ginny muttered, laying her head in her arms on the bar top.
“Shtill am, darling,” Pansy hiccupped delicately and killed off her current appletini. “But you ushed to be shmarter,” she slurred. “Even when I didn’t like you, you were brilliant and radiated magshical ability, and that turned me on and I didn’t like you even more.”
Ginny harrumphed and sipped from the dwindling ale in her glass.
“I like your perfect titsh Weashley, you idiot.”
Ginny blinked into her glass, and then emptied it. “I think we shoul-shooooould drink water.”
“Water’sh good. I like Water.”
And Another Two Hours Later
“Come on, come on,” Pansy muttered, managing to unfasten the hooks of Ginny’s strapless brassiere backward and in the dark.
“I’m trying!” The redhead cursed again as the tiny zipper of Pansy’s dress slipped out of her grasp. “Oh for fuck’s sake, was this dress part of the Janus Thickey line, by chance?” she groused. She felt Pansy’s soft form shake against her with laughter as the brunette nibbled at her throat. Ginny was distracted from her task by more of the slow, drugging kisses that had finally urged them out of the pub and back to Pansy’s flat. She felt fingers slide into her hair and twist. “Ouch! A bit more gently, would you?”
Pansy’s grip on Ginny’s hips loosened. “Sorry, sorry!”
“Wait, what-” she felt the tug on her hair again and yelped. “Turn on the light, would you?” The warmth of Pansy left her, and she heard the whispery sounds of the other woman moving around to light the lanterns, creating a cozy glow in the room. Ginny looked up and swatted at the hovering owl. “Out of my hair!” The owl flew a bit lower and extended its leg, allowing Ginny to take the envelope.
“What is it?” Pansy murmured lowly, managing to unzip her own dress as Ginny read the note.
Gin,
I’m SO sorry. I just heard from Eleanor that she chickened out and didn’t show. I hope you aren’t too angry. I’ll try to
Floo you tomorrow. - Harry
“Weasley?” Ginny looked up to find Pansy tugging down her dress and undulating her hips as she pushed the fabric to the floor, leaving her in black lace lingerie. The brunette bit her lip, looking uncharacteristically uncertain, and Ginny, laughing, reached out to tug her closer, tossing the note aside with her other hand.
“Life’s just funny, is all.” Then there was no more laughing as she reclaimed Pansy’s lips.