Full Circle NC-17 by lnalvgd
Please forgive us for missing a day... having three mods in different zones is obviously more confusing then helpful!
Title: Full Circle
Author: lnalvgd
Team: Winter
Prompts: Mudblood and Floo Powder
Pairing/Genre: Ron/Hermione, Ron/Pansy
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,290
Warnings: Sexual situations, language
A/N: Many thanks to my beta queenb23more for the support and phone calls in helping me with Pansy's voice!
Full Circle
"Hermione. No. Don’t… It’s not like that," Ron pleaded in a whisper as he sat on the edge of the unmade, thoroughly disheveled bed with his head in his hands, trying desperately to come up with an excuse as to why Pansy Parkinson just left his flat in an equally disheveled state.
"What, exactly is it like then, Ronald, if it’s not like that?" Hermione bristled.
She was standing in the doorway of Ron’s bedroom looking everywhere but at him. Taking in the fact that pillows were tossed along the floor, bed sheets ripped from the tucked corners of the mattress, the duvet tangled at the bottom, and hanging from the light fixture a lacy, red bra.
How it got there she really didn’t want to know.
"I… I… It’s just that," Ron stammered, looking up at her now and noticing the trail of tears running down her cheeks. Watching them pool in the corners of her eyes as she fought the urge to let any more fall he narrowed his own.
"Bloody hell, Hermione, you were the one that walked out on me!" Ron yelled at her.
"Seven days ago! Seven days, Ron, and…" she faltered with the right words to express her profound pain at knowing she had just caught Ron and Pansy together in a bed where she and Ron had spent many hours making love to one another.
"And… how could you, Ron? With Pansy?" she implored with a bit more steel in her voice. "Yes, I left. I left because I needed some space. From you, from me, from us… We had been fighting all too much lately. I needed to get away, to find myself again. To be the woman you once fell in love with years ago, not the harpy I had become from work load stress and taking it out on you."
Ron said nothing. He just sat there looking at her with a blank expression on his face.
Rapidly blinking back tears, Hermione turned and walked away again.
~*~
"And while you’re looking for that file, Weasley, I’ll also need for you to…" Pansy trailed away from her thoughts as she briskly walked into Ron’s office, one hand held up like she was going to knock, and contemplated the disarray of papers, file folders, and inkwells with crinkled quills sticking out of them willy-nilly.
Ron was sitting with his back turned away from the doorway, staring at nothing. When he heard Pansy’s voice, he slowly turned and gave her a cold look.
He really didn’t want to have to deal with Parkinson today. Her snide remarks and the malicious smirks she tossed at him on a daily basis normally turned into jokes between him, Harry, and Hermione on any given evening while having a pint after work, but today, seeing her there with that smirk and a remark on the tip of her tongue, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to deal with it.
Not after watching Hermione walk out of his life two days ago.
Standing in the same doorway as Parkinson and telling him that she needed space from him.
Space from her.
Space from them.
Seeing the dejected look on Ron’s face before he graced her with that traditional icy stare she knew he only saved for her, Pansy sneered at him.
"Ah… so the rumour I hear is true then. Your Mudblood did leave you," Pansy said with a slight smirk.
Before she could take a cautious step out of the way, Ron had swung out of his chair, crossed the small space that served as his office, and gripped Pansy’s shoulders.
"Don’t," he snarled. "Don’t you ever call Hermione that again!"
"You’re hurting me, Ron," Pansy murmured as she struggled to get out of his stronghold. His fingers had dug deeply and she felt the raw, hard steel of Ron’s hands as they held tightly to her.
Immediately, Ron let go. He spun on the spot and walked away from her. He had never used such force on a woman before, and although it was Parkinson, he didn’t think even she deserved such rough treatment.
Rubbing her shoulders where she knew there would be bruising later, Pansy watched as Ron struggled to get control of himself. She had only half-listened to others in her department about the mental breakdown Weasley had two days ago when Granger suddenly walked away from their three-year relationship. And wondered as to the cause.
"If you’re finished with your list of mandates, I would appreciate it if you would go away now, Parkinson," Ron said in a low voice.
"Yes, well, I’ll leave you to your misery then," Pansy said scathingly, and she walked out of Ron’s office to let him keep his own company.
Ron listened as she left. He slowly sank himself back into his chair, turned it to face the wall, and stared at nothing once more.
~*~
"I saw Hermione yesterday," Harry slightly slurred while taking another swig from the bottle of Firewhisky he and Ron had been sharing. It was too much of an effort to actually pour it into the shot glasses that sat empty on the table between them.
"Yeah?" Ron said as he lifted his eyes to meet Harry’s. There seemed to be two of them or maybe there were four pairs of eyes, and then adding the glasses… Ron knew there was a joke somewhere, but at the moment, his brain was so befuddled with liquor he couldn’t quite make it out.
They had come into The Leaky Cauldron for a few drinks after an early evening in the office. Harry knew that if Ron got drunk enough then he would finally let off some of the frustration he’d been carrying around for the past week. And Harry was prepared to stand up to Ron if he got out of hand about Hermione.
"Yeah, I did. Walking out of the Department of Mysteries with a handful of files and her nose stuck in one," Harry commented. "She didn’t notice me, or if she did, she didn’t acknowledge it."
"Uh, well, she’s not spoken to me or acknowledged me in seven days. I’m not sure what I should do anymore," Ron grumbled into his hands as he brought them up and covered his face. "I mean… what kind of space are we talking about here, Harry? It’s been seven days and not one word, not one memo, not one nothing!" Ron mumbled between his hands.
"I dunno, Ron. Hermione just needed to take some time to find herself again. That she apparently lost herself in work and your relationship, and she couldn’t get a footing on any of it. She felt like she was being pulled in two and sometimes three different directions and needed to re-evaluate," Harry said vaguely.
Ron slowly lowered his hands from his face and stared at Harry.
"Fuck, Harry! Where’d that come from?"
"Oh, uhm… Ginny?"
"Huh… never knew Ginny was that insightful… wait! How come Ginny’s telling you this and not me?" Ron exclaimed indignantly.
"Because you’ve been such an arse to everyone but me this past week she felt she could tell me, knowing I’d say something to you eventually. She’s worried ‘bout you too, Ron, but she’s Hermione’s friend as well and well, girls talk," Harry said philosophically.
Ron just blinked at Harry.
"You’ve got to stop hanging with my sister, mate. She’s turning you into a right pansy," Ron said sniggering into the bottle before tipping it up and taking a drink.
"Speaking of pansies, the bitch herself just graced us with her presence," Harry said, nodding his head towards the bar.
Ron turned around to look. Pansy stood there, leaning over the bar, arms curled together, propped on the counter, and her tits pressed into them. From his vantage point, Ron could see them clearly along with a bit of red lace at the edges of her V-neck jumper.
"Did she ever get those files from you, mate? The ones she bitched about a few days back?" Harry asked, poking at Ron’s arm to get his attention.
Ron looked back and Harry.
"Oh, yeah. I found them… under another pile of bloody files," Ron grumbled under his breath as he listened to Pansy’s light laughter at the bar.
"Listen, Ron," Harry said as he took one last drink from the bottle of Firewhisky, "I’ve gotta go. Ginny’s expecting me in about a half hour and I promised her I’d not be late this time. You need me to help you home or something? You’re a bit more pissed than me."
"Nah, Harry. ‘m fine. I’ll just sit here a while longer. Get myself together. If need be, I’ll Floo home," Ron said with a grin. "Best not be late. Ginny’ll have your bollocks if you’re just one minute past," Ron laughed as he watched Harry roll his eyes at him.
"Get going, and tell Ginny hello from me," Ron said and watched as Harry nodded and walked towards the Floo to go home to the flat he shared with Ginny.
As Ron watched the green flames erupt, he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. Looking around, he saw Pansy sitting alone at the bar, drink in hand, and staring at him.
He was aware that she deliberately licked her lips, picked up her drink, and took a long swallow, all the while keeping her eyes locked on his. Something deep stirred within Ron.
Picking up her drink, Pansy slid off the barstool and sauntered over to the table where Ron sat.
"Drinking alone, Weasley?" she scoffed as she slid not into the seat Harry had just vacated but onto the seat next to him.
"No. As you well know, Parkinson," he said, glaring at her as he scooted over, "since you and I both just watched Harry leave."
"It’s shocking, you know," Pansy said with an exaggerated sigh.
"What?" Ron asked in aggravation.
"This," she replied, waving her hand in his general direction. "I’ve got to hand it to Granger… she’s taken a well-bodied Auror from powerful to petulant to pathetic in less than a week."
"Why are you such a bitch, Parkinson?" Ron demanded while fixing her with a scathing look.
Her eyes narrowed, and she reached across him for the whisky bottle. "Why do you care, Weasley?"
"I don’t care," he insisted, unsuccessfully trying not to stare at her tits as she filled one of the shot glasses, fell back against the seat, and took a sip from it. And - fuck it all - he felt himself getting hard. "Be however you want, just stay the fuck away from me when you’re doing it."
Pansy licked her lips and turned to him, glancing down at his crotch before slowly raising her eyes to meet his. "I don’t think you really want me to stay the fuck away from you, Weasley. I think you’re sad and lonely and in need of someone to cheer you up," she said, her tone a mixture of mocking and teasing.
"Just goes to show what you know," he retorted, grabbing the bottle from her hand and taking another large, sloppy drink. He felt several drops of the liquor on his chin, but Pansy caught his arm as he started to wipe them away. Watching his eyes, she leaned in and licked it off.
Her hand slid up his leg and she squeezed his still hardening cock. "I think I know a lot," she purred. "And I know a man who is in desperate need of a good, hard, meaningless fuck when I see him."
Ron watched Pansy sit back and finish off the whisky in her shot glass in one swallow. She then slipped out of her seat and stood beside the table, staring at him. "Aren’t you coming?"
~*~
"Where’s the bloody Floo Powder in this place," Ron said as he peeled himself away from Pansy’s mouth, searching for the jar that normally sat on the mantel above the fireplace.
Looking over Ron’s shoulder as she held on to him, Pansy noticed the small clay jar and nodded her head towards it.
Grabbing a handful, Ron pulled Pansy up against him, stepped into the flames, yelled his destination, and pressed his lips to hers in a hard, smacking kiss.
They stumbled out in a heap of limbs and half-torn clothing. One strap of the red bra Ron first glimpsed at the bar had been pulled off Pansy’s shoulder by his teeth. Hands touching, mouth tasting, bodies sliding together hindered by their remaining garments.
"Bedroom, now… we need the bedroom now," Ron said as he slid his tongue along Pansy’s slender neck, reaching her jaw and placing rough kisses there.
"Let’s see what I’m getting myself into first," Pansy purred as she reached out and grasped Ron’s hard cock still held within his unbuttoned trousers, "or what’s getting into me rather."
"Wench," Ron murmured as his hips instinctively thrust forward in time with the steady stroking Pansy was keeping pace on his cock. Her hand slid into his pants and she felt the full heat of him, the smooth skin, the length, and she was wet with anticipation.
"Fuck," Ron moaned as Pansy stroked harder. "You gotta stop or I’ll come."
"Well, we can’t have that just yet, can we?" Pansy replied, giving him one more good stroke before removing her hand. She lifted her fingers to her lips and sucked the wetness from them.
Pushing her through the bedroom door, Ron stripped off his trousers. He watched her quickly remove her own clothing and underneath the skirt, she had matching barely-there lacy, red knickers that matched the bra that was scarcely holding her tits.
Pansy noticed where Ron’s attention was centered and she slyly slid her hands up her torso, cupping each breast and pinching her already hard nipples through the fabric.
Moaning with pleasure and throwing her head back, Pansy manipulated her nipples to hard points before pulling on them one last time and looking back at Ron.
His expression was stark, naked, and a bit uncivilized.
She smirked in satisfaction, confirming that she was in for a good, long, hard fuck tonight with Ron Weasley.
~*~
"On your knees," Ron said through gritted teeth as he watched the smirk on her face turn into a snarl before she sank to the floor in front of him.
Taking his hard cock into her mouth as deep as she could, Pansy began to suck with long hard strokes, licking with her tongue, swirling around the head. Feeling the instinctive way Ron’s hips pumped, she continued to bring him forth just to the brink of orgasm.
"Ah fuck, Pansy," Ron moaned, "I’m not gonna last much longer if you continue."
Unwilling to go there just yet, Pansy stopped the technique she’d long ago perfected and looked up at him through her eyelashes as she released him loudly, taking a moment to lick the tip of his cock.
"I’ve heard all about the great Weasley stamina, and if the rumours are true, I expect you’ll last much, much longer."
Grinning at her, Ron reached out and helped pull her up from the floor. She stood there wearing nothing but the red lace and a satisfied smile. He leaned in, and keeping his eyes open to watch, kissed her.
Tracing her smooth lips with the tip of his tongue, he felt the plumpness of her bottom lip and restrained himself from biting it.
Instead, he pushed through and felt her tongue slide along with his in her mouth. She tasted of him - salty, musky - and Ron couldn’t get enough of it.
Pansy watched as Ron tentatively began to kiss her and she felt her eyes close once he continued in earnest. It was something she never thought would be possible.
Having Ron Weasley’s lips pressed against hers.
Having Ron Weasley’s tongue dueling with hers.
Having Ron Weasley at her mercy.
As his mouth plundered hers, Ron grasped her arms, brought them up, and held her hands in one of his own while the other easily removed the clasp of her bra, freeing her breasts. He broke their kiss only to lean down just a bit and take one into his mouth.
Pansy gasped her pleasure and arched her back, holding the back of his head and pushing her breast into his mouth even more. She felt him tug on her sensitive nipple with his teeth, pulling and sucking, and she groaned louder.
"You’re fuckin’ sexy in this red get up, Parkinson, but I think it’s about time all bits of clothing are removed," Ron murmured while his mouth was still pressed against her breast.
"Then let go of my hands, Weasley, and I’ll give you what you want," she drawled as she pushed him away.
Ron let go of her hands and stepped back.
Turning towards the bed and giving him a nice view of her arse, Pansy slipped her fingers beneath the tiny fabric of her knickers and pulled them down slowly before walking out of them.
Looking over her shoulder at him, she smirked before shimmying out of the bra and tossing it overhead. It landed on the light fixture above the bed and hung there like a talisman.
Ron watched her as she crawled across the bed on all fours, arse lifted in the air. His cock twitched at the sight before him and he made his way towards the offering.
"What are you waiting for, an invitation?" Pansy said with a smirk. "Isn’t the position enough of an invite or didn’t your Mudblood ever let you fuck her this way?"
"Leave Hermione out of this, Parkinson," Ron growled at her as he grasped her hips and brought them back towards his aching cock. Taking it in hand, he guided his erection along the cleft between her cheeks before sliding it into her hot, wet entrance and discovering she was tighter than he’d imagined.
Pulling out slightly before slamming back into her, his mind drifted, and he wasn’t seeing short, cropped, straight black hair.
His mind was in another place, in another moment, with another woman.
When Pansy mentioned Hermione, Ron couldn’t help but think back a few weeks and remember the last time they had been in this same position.
Hermione.
With long, bushy brown hair that would tangle into his fingers when he held her head as she sucked on his cock.
Hermione.
Who was the prim and proper Witch but behind closed doors became a Banshee between the sheets.
Hermione.
His Hermione. The one he loved.
Heart wrenching with the ache of her being gone, Ron’s mind traveled back all the while his hips continued to pound into Pansy.
He barely heard her moaning in pleasure. All he could hear was the ringing in his own ears from the scream of his name on Hermione’s lips when he all but had to touch her intimately.
Trailing his fingers down her concaved stomach until reaching the thick, dark curls at the juncture between her wet thighs, he found her clit swollen with need.
Sliding fingers through the wetness, through her opening, and giving her pleasure with just his hand.
Hearing her moan, watching her toss her head from desire, Ron eventually replaced his fingers with his tongue and licked, suckled and worshiped Hermione with his mouth.
Grasping her hips, he flipped Hermione over, pulling her up onto her knees, arse in the air, and plowed into her wet entrance.
So tight, as he pulled back once and pushed in again.
So tight., as he looked into his mind’s eye and watched Hermione throw back her head while his hand reached out and grabbed a handful of her hair.
So tight., as reality sank into him when he heard a different voice screaming his name.
Opening his eyes, Ron discovered that the pleasure building in him was brought on by a meaningless fuck with Parkinson, and there was no way he could stop himself from his own orgasm.
Fighting for control, Ron pushed into her one last time, felt the white, hot heat of his desire pull him, and feeling the need for revenge, he screamed Hermione’s name.
~*~
Humiliation washed over her and she fell to the mattress, feeling his softening cock slide out of her in mockery. Trying to keep her composure, Pansy slid off the bed with as much dignity as she could muster and began gathering her clothing while fighting back an emotion she wasn’t quite sure she recognized.
Hearing Ron scream Granger’s name churned a sickness in Pansy’s stomach. She couldn’t figure out why she cared. It wasn’t like she had never heard another woman’s name coming out of another lover’s mouth as he fucked her. But never before had it cut so deeply or had she felt so ashamed of herself.
It was always just fun and games and getting her kit off when she felt the need to scratch an itch. Just some random Wizard who caught her fancy for the night, someone to sooth the hurt in her heart without realizing it and hopefully getting multiple orgasms from a nice, long shag.
Nothing serious, never anything exclusive, and certainly nothing more than one night.
Seeing Weasley sitting at The Leaky Cauldron nursing his whisky and more than likely whining to Potter about Granger, Pansy made her decision then to seduce him. Not only to see if what they say of the Weasley men held true, but to also exact revenge upon Granger for having everything with Weasley that Pansy never had.
The fuck hadn’t been disappointing. She was quite satisfied and surprised by the thickness of Ron’s cock. It stretched her when he entered, turning a slight pain to pure pleasure and bringing her to full orgasm within minutes. It was, however, quite disappointing to realize he’d been imagining fucking Granger the whole time.
Pansy looked over at Ron sitting on the edge of the disheveled bed with his head in his hands. The pillows had clearly been pushed out of the way and now lay on the floor. The duvet was nearly hanging from the edge, and the sheets were in disarray.
"I didn’t mean to yell her name," Ron said thickly through his hands, "it’s just…"
Without waiting for him to finish, Pansy walked out of the bedroom, into the lounge, and came face to face with a shocked Hermione Granger.
"He’s a good fuck, but you’re more than welcome to keep him," Pansy sneered as she brushed past Hermione and walked straight out the door.
~*~
"Hermione. No. Don’t… It’s not like that."
Hermione heard the words with such anguish, such raw emotion, but at the moment, her heart hardened as she took in the mess of Ron’s bed. The pillows were strung across the floor, the duvet hanging from the end, and the sheet torn from the corners.
"What, exactly is it like then, Ronald, if it’s not like that?" she said with as much hurt and anger she could muster when her eyes skimmed the room and she noticed a red, lacy bra hanging from the light fixture.
"I… I… It’s just that," she heard him stammer as tears began to fall from her eyes. She was trying desperately not to let him see her cry, but noticing the red bra was like a catalyst, and more pooled in the corners, threatening to fall.
"Bloody hell, Hermione, you were the one that walked out on me!" shouted Ron.
"Seven days ago! Seven days, Ron, and…" The anguish she felt was unfathomable. Nothing could compare to the knowledge of what she just witnessed with Pansy sneering at her, and knowing as well that she and Ron had spent many hours there together.
Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Hermione hardened her heart against the obvious and spoke her mind.
"And…how could you, Ron? With Pansy?" Her voice was raw with emotion but firm in delivery.
"Yes, I left. I left because I needed some space. From you, from me, from us… We had been fighting all too much lately. I needed to get away, to find myself again. To be the woman you once fell in love with years ago, not the harpy I had become from work load stress and taking it out on you."
She stood there watching Ron with a blank expression on his face. He didn’t say a word.
The tears that threatened to fall earlier were back in full force. She hastily blinked them away, and turning, she walked out on Ron.
~*~
"Yes, I left. I left because I needed some space. From you, from me, from us… We had been fighting all too much lately. I needed to get away, to find myself again. To be the woman you once fell in love with years ago, not the harpy I had become from work load stress and taking it out on you."
He heard her words and saw her features shift from heartbroken to vacant.
Say something! Anything! Make her understand! he screamed to himself, but his mouth would not open and the words would not come as they stared at each other.
It took Hermione turning and walking through the door to force him into action, and he jumped from the bed, still naked, and quickly followed her into the lounge. She was at the fireplace, Floo Powder in hand.
"Please, Hermione," he managed. "Please. I’ll do anything it takes …"
His voice faltered and he grabbed hold of the chair to steady himself when she stepped into the green flames and disappeared.
Title: Full Circle
Author: lnalvgd
Team: Winter
Prompts: Mudblood and Floo Powder
Pairing/Genre: Ron/Hermione, Ron/Pansy
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,290
Warnings: Sexual situations, language
A/N: Many thanks to my beta queenb23more for the support and phone calls in helping me with Pansy's voice!
Full Circle
"Hermione. No. Don’t… It’s not like that," Ron pleaded in a whisper as he sat on the edge of the unmade, thoroughly disheveled bed with his head in his hands, trying desperately to come up with an excuse as to why Pansy Parkinson just left his flat in an equally disheveled state.
"What, exactly is it like then, Ronald, if it’s not like that?" Hermione bristled.
She was standing in the doorway of Ron’s bedroom looking everywhere but at him. Taking in the fact that pillows were tossed along the floor, bed sheets ripped from the tucked corners of the mattress, the duvet tangled at the bottom, and hanging from the light fixture a lacy, red bra.
How it got there she really didn’t want to know.
"I… I… It’s just that," Ron stammered, looking up at her now and noticing the trail of tears running down her cheeks. Watching them pool in the corners of her eyes as she fought the urge to let any more fall he narrowed his own.
"Bloody hell, Hermione, you were the one that walked out on me!" Ron yelled at her.
"Seven days ago! Seven days, Ron, and…" she faltered with the right words to express her profound pain at knowing she had just caught Ron and Pansy together in a bed where she and Ron had spent many hours making love to one another.
"And… how could you, Ron? With Pansy?" she implored with a bit more steel in her voice. "Yes, I left. I left because I needed some space. From you, from me, from us… We had been fighting all too much lately. I needed to get away, to find myself again. To be the woman you once fell in love with years ago, not the harpy I had become from work load stress and taking it out on you."
Ron said nothing. He just sat there looking at her with a blank expression on his face.
Rapidly blinking back tears, Hermione turned and walked away again.
~*~
"And while you’re looking for that file, Weasley, I’ll also need for you to…" Pansy trailed away from her thoughts as she briskly walked into Ron’s office, one hand held up like she was going to knock, and contemplated the disarray of papers, file folders, and inkwells with crinkled quills sticking out of them willy-nilly.
Ron was sitting with his back turned away from the doorway, staring at nothing. When he heard Pansy’s voice, he slowly turned and gave her a cold look.
He really didn’t want to have to deal with Parkinson today. Her snide remarks and the malicious smirks she tossed at him on a daily basis normally turned into jokes between him, Harry, and Hermione on any given evening while having a pint after work, but today, seeing her there with that smirk and a remark on the tip of her tongue, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to deal with it.
Not after watching Hermione walk out of his life two days ago.
Standing in the same doorway as Parkinson and telling him that she needed space from him.
Space from her.
Space from them.
Seeing the dejected look on Ron’s face before he graced her with that traditional icy stare she knew he only saved for her, Pansy sneered at him.
"Ah… so the rumour I hear is true then. Your Mudblood did leave you," Pansy said with a slight smirk.
Before she could take a cautious step out of the way, Ron had swung out of his chair, crossed the small space that served as his office, and gripped Pansy’s shoulders.
"Don’t," he snarled. "Don’t you ever call Hermione that again!"
"You’re hurting me, Ron," Pansy murmured as she struggled to get out of his stronghold. His fingers had dug deeply and she felt the raw, hard steel of Ron’s hands as they held tightly to her.
Immediately, Ron let go. He spun on the spot and walked away from her. He had never used such force on a woman before, and although it was Parkinson, he didn’t think even she deserved such rough treatment.
Rubbing her shoulders where she knew there would be bruising later, Pansy watched as Ron struggled to get control of himself. She had only half-listened to others in her department about the mental breakdown Weasley had two days ago when Granger suddenly walked away from their three-year relationship. And wondered as to the cause.
"If you’re finished with your list of mandates, I would appreciate it if you would go away now, Parkinson," Ron said in a low voice.
"Yes, well, I’ll leave you to your misery then," Pansy said scathingly, and she walked out of Ron’s office to let him keep his own company.
Ron listened as she left. He slowly sank himself back into his chair, turned it to face the wall, and stared at nothing once more.
~*~
"I saw Hermione yesterday," Harry slightly slurred while taking another swig from the bottle of Firewhisky he and Ron had been sharing. It was too much of an effort to actually pour it into the shot glasses that sat empty on the table between them.
"Yeah?" Ron said as he lifted his eyes to meet Harry’s. There seemed to be two of them or maybe there were four pairs of eyes, and then adding the glasses… Ron knew there was a joke somewhere, but at the moment, his brain was so befuddled with liquor he couldn’t quite make it out.
They had come into The Leaky Cauldron for a few drinks after an early evening in the office. Harry knew that if Ron got drunk enough then he would finally let off some of the frustration he’d been carrying around for the past week. And Harry was prepared to stand up to Ron if he got out of hand about Hermione.
"Yeah, I did. Walking out of the Department of Mysteries with a handful of files and her nose stuck in one," Harry commented. "She didn’t notice me, or if she did, she didn’t acknowledge it."
"Uh, well, she’s not spoken to me or acknowledged me in seven days. I’m not sure what I should do anymore," Ron grumbled into his hands as he brought them up and covered his face. "I mean… what kind of space are we talking about here, Harry? It’s been seven days and not one word, not one memo, not one nothing!" Ron mumbled between his hands.
"I dunno, Ron. Hermione just needed to take some time to find herself again. That she apparently lost herself in work and your relationship, and she couldn’t get a footing on any of it. She felt like she was being pulled in two and sometimes three different directions and needed to re-evaluate," Harry said vaguely.
Ron slowly lowered his hands from his face and stared at Harry.
"Fuck, Harry! Where’d that come from?"
"Oh, uhm… Ginny?"
"Huh… never knew Ginny was that insightful… wait! How come Ginny’s telling you this and not me?" Ron exclaimed indignantly.
"Because you’ve been such an arse to everyone but me this past week she felt she could tell me, knowing I’d say something to you eventually. She’s worried ‘bout you too, Ron, but she’s Hermione’s friend as well and well, girls talk," Harry said philosophically.
Ron just blinked at Harry.
"You’ve got to stop hanging with my sister, mate. She’s turning you into a right pansy," Ron said sniggering into the bottle before tipping it up and taking a drink.
"Speaking of pansies, the bitch herself just graced us with her presence," Harry said, nodding his head towards the bar.
Ron turned around to look. Pansy stood there, leaning over the bar, arms curled together, propped on the counter, and her tits pressed into them. From his vantage point, Ron could see them clearly along with a bit of red lace at the edges of her V-neck jumper.
"Did she ever get those files from you, mate? The ones she bitched about a few days back?" Harry asked, poking at Ron’s arm to get his attention.
Ron looked back and Harry.
"Oh, yeah. I found them… under another pile of bloody files," Ron grumbled under his breath as he listened to Pansy’s light laughter at the bar.
"Listen, Ron," Harry said as he took one last drink from the bottle of Firewhisky, "I’ve gotta go. Ginny’s expecting me in about a half hour and I promised her I’d not be late this time. You need me to help you home or something? You’re a bit more pissed than me."
"Nah, Harry. ‘m fine. I’ll just sit here a while longer. Get myself together. If need be, I’ll Floo home," Ron said with a grin. "Best not be late. Ginny’ll have your bollocks if you’re just one minute past," Ron laughed as he watched Harry roll his eyes at him.
"Get going, and tell Ginny hello from me," Ron said and watched as Harry nodded and walked towards the Floo to go home to the flat he shared with Ginny.
As Ron watched the green flames erupt, he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. Looking around, he saw Pansy sitting alone at the bar, drink in hand, and staring at him.
He was aware that she deliberately licked her lips, picked up her drink, and took a long swallow, all the while keeping her eyes locked on his. Something deep stirred within Ron.
Picking up her drink, Pansy slid off the barstool and sauntered over to the table where Ron sat.
"Drinking alone, Weasley?" she scoffed as she slid not into the seat Harry had just vacated but onto the seat next to him.
"No. As you well know, Parkinson," he said, glaring at her as he scooted over, "since you and I both just watched Harry leave."
"It’s shocking, you know," Pansy said with an exaggerated sigh.
"What?" Ron asked in aggravation.
"This," she replied, waving her hand in his general direction. "I’ve got to hand it to Granger… she’s taken a well-bodied Auror from powerful to petulant to pathetic in less than a week."
"Why are you such a bitch, Parkinson?" Ron demanded while fixing her with a scathing look.
Her eyes narrowed, and she reached across him for the whisky bottle. "Why do you care, Weasley?"
"I don’t care," he insisted, unsuccessfully trying not to stare at her tits as she filled one of the shot glasses, fell back against the seat, and took a sip from it. And - fuck it all - he felt himself getting hard. "Be however you want, just stay the fuck away from me when you’re doing it."
Pansy licked her lips and turned to him, glancing down at his crotch before slowly raising her eyes to meet his. "I don’t think you really want me to stay the fuck away from you, Weasley. I think you’re sad and lonely and in need of someone to cheer you up," she said, her tone a mixture of mocking and teasing.
"Just goes to show what you know," he retorted, grabbing the bottle from her hand and taking another large, sloppy drink. He felt several drops of the liquor on his chin, but Pansy caught his arm as he started to wipe them away. Watching his eyes, she leaned in and licked it off.
Her hand slid up his leg and she squeezed his still hardening cock. "I think I know a lot," she purred. "And I know a man who is in desperate need of a good, hard, meaningless fuck when I see him."
Ron watched Pansy sit back and finish off the whisky in her shot glass in one swallow. She then slipped out of her seat and stood beside the table, staring at him. "Aren’t you coming?"
~*~
"Where’s the bloody Floo Powder in this place," Ron said as he peeled himself away from Pansy’s mouth, searching for the jar that normally sat on the mantel above the fireplace.
Looking over Ron’s shoulder as she held on to him, Pansy noticed the small clay jar and nodded her head towards it.
Grabbing a handful, Ron pulled Pansy up against him, stepped into the flames, yelled his destination, and pressed his lips to hers in a hard, smacking kiss.
They stumbled out in a heap of limbs and half-torn clothing. One strap of the red bra Ron first glimpsed at the bar had been pulled off Pansy’s shoulder by his teeth. Hands touching, mouth tasting, bodies sliding together hindered by their remaining garments.
"Bedroom, now… we need the bedroom now," Ron said as he slid his tongue along Pansy’s slender neck, reaching her jaw and placing rough kisses there.
"Let’s see what I’m getting myself into first," Pansy purred as she reached out and grasped Ron’s hard cock still held within his unbuttoned trousers, "or what’s getting into me rather."
"Wench," Ron murmured as his hips instinctively thrust forward in time with the steady stroking Pansy was keeping pace on his cock. Her hand slid into his pants and she felt the full heat of him, the smooth skin, the length, and she was wet with anticipation.
"Fuck," Ron moaned as Pansy stroked harder. "You gotta stop or I’ll come."
"Well, we can’t have that just yet, can we?" Pansy replied, giving him one more good stroke before removing her hand. She lifted her fingers to her lips and sucked the wetness from them.
Pushing her through the bedroom door, Ron stripped off his trousers. He watched her quickly remove her own clothing and underneath the skirt, she had matching barely-there lacy, red knickers that matched the bra that was scarcely holding her tits.
Pansy noticed where Ron’s attention was centered and she slyly slid her hands up her torso, cupping each breast and pinching her already hard nipples through the fabric.
Moaning with pleasure and throwing her head back, Pansy manipulated her nipples to hard points before pulling on them one last time and looking back at Ron.
His expression was stark, naked, and a bit uncivilized.
She smirked in satisfaction, confirming that she was in for a good, long, hard fuck tonight with Ron Weasley.
~*~
"On your knees," Ron said through gritted teeth as he watched the smirk on her face turn into a snarl before she sank to the floor in front of him.
Taking his hard cock into her mouth as deep as she could, Pansy began to suck with long hard strokes, licking with her tongue, swirling around the head. Feeling the instinctive way Ron’s hips pumped, she continued to bring him forth just to the brink of orgasm.
"Ah fuck, Pansy," Ron moaned, "I’m not gonna last much longer if you continue."
Unwilling to go there just yet, Pansy stopped the technique she’d long ago perfected and looked up at him through her eyelashes as she released him loudly, taking a moment to lick the tip of his cock.
"I’ve heard all about the great Weasley stamina, and if the rumours are true, I expect you’ll last much, much longer."
Grinning at her, Ron reached out and helped pull her up from the floor. She stood there wearing nothing but the red lace and a satisfied smile. He leaned in, and keeping his eyes open to watch, kissed her.
Tracing her smooth lips with the tip of his tongue, he felt the plumpness of her bottom lip and restrained himself from biting it.
Instead, he pushed through and felt her tongue slide along with his in her mouth. She tasted of him - salty, musky - and Ron couldn’t get enough of it.
Pansy watched as Ron tentatively began to kiss her and she felt her eyes close once he continued in earnest. It was something she never thought would be possible.
Having Ron Weasley’s lips pressed against hers.
Having Ron Weasley’s tongue dueling with hers.
Having Ron Weasley at her mercy.
As his mouth plundered hers, Ron grasped her arms, brought them up, and held her hands in one of his own while the other easily removed the clasp of her bra, freeing her breasts. He broke their kiss only to lean down just a bit and take one into his mouth.
Pansy gasped her pleasure and arched her back, holding the back of his head and pushing her breast into his mouth even more. She felt him tug on her sensitive nipple with his teeth, pulling and sucking, and she groaned louder.
"You’re fuckin’ sexy in this red get up, Parkinson, but I think it’s about time all bits of clothing are removed," Ron murmured while his mouth was still pressed against her breast.
"Then let go of my hands, Weasley, and I’ll give you what you want," she drawled as she pushed him away.
Ron let go of her hands and stepped back.
Turning towards the bed and giving him a nice view of her arse, Pansy slipped her fingers beneath the tiny fabric of her knickers and pulled them down slowly before walking out of them.
Looking over her shoulder at him, she smirked before shimmying out of the bra and tossing it overhead. It landed on the light fixture above the bed and hung there like a talisman.
Ron watched her as she crawled across the bed on all fours, arse lifted in the air. His cock twitched at the sight before him and he made his way towards the offering.
"What are you waiting for, an invitation?" Pansy said with a smirk. "Isn’t the position enough of an invite or didn’t your Mudblood ever let you fuck her this way?"
"Leave Hermione out of this, Parkinson," Ron growled at her as he grasped her hips and brought them back towards his aching cock. Taking it in hand, he guided his erection along the cleft between her cheeks before sliding it into her hot, wet entrance and discovering she was tighter than he’d imagined.
Pulling out slightly before slamming back into her, his mind drifted, and he wasn’t seeing short, cropped, straight black hair.
His mind was in another place, in another moment, with another woman.
When Pansy mentioned Hermione, Ron couldn’t help but think back a few weeks and remember the last time they had been in this same position.
Hermione.
With long, bushy brown hair that would tangle into his fingers when he held her head as she sucked on his cock.
Hermione.
Who was the prim and proper Witch but behind closed doors became a Banshee between the sheets.
Hermione.
His Hermione. The one he loved.
Heart wrenching with the ache of her being gone, Ron’s mind traveled back all the while his hips continued to pound into Pansy.
He barely heard her moaning in pleasure. All he could hear was the ringing in his own ears from the scream of his name on Hermione’s lips when he all but had to touch her intimately.
Trailing his fingers down her concaved stomach until reaching the thick, dark curls at the juncture between her wet thighs, he found her clit swollen with need.
Sliding fingers through the wetness, through her opening, and giving her pleasure with just his hand.
Hearing her moan, watching her toss her head from desire, Ron eventually replaced his fingers with his tongue and licked, suckled and worshiped Hermione with his mouth.
Grasping her hips, he flipped Hermione over, pulling her up onto her knees, arse in the air, and plowed into her wet entrance.
So tight, as he pulled back once and pushed in again.
So tight., as he looked into his mind’s eye and watched Hermione throw back her head while his hand reached out and grabbed a handful of her hair.
So tight., as reality sank into him when he heard a different voice screaming his name.
Opening his eyes, Ron discovered that the pleasure building in him was brought on by a meaningless fuck with Parkinson, and there was no way he could stop himself from his own orgasm.
Fighting for control, Ron pushed into her one last time, felt the white, hot heat of his desire pull him, and feeling the need for revenge, he screamed Hermione’s name.
~*~
Humiliation washed over her and she fell to the mattress, feeling his softening cock slide out of her in mockery. Trying to keep her composure, Pansy slid off the bed with as much dignity as she could muster and began gathering her clothing while fighting back an emotion she wasn’t quite sure she recognized.
Hearing Ron scream Granger’s name churned a sickness in Pansy’s stomach. She couldn’t figure out why she cared. It wasn’t like she had never heard another woman’s name coming out of another lover’s mouth as he fucked her. But never before had it cut so deeply or had she felt so ashamed of herself.
It was always just fun and games and getting her kit off when she felt the need to scratch an itch. Just some random Wizard who caught her fancy for the night, someone to sooth the hurt in her heart without realizing it and hopefully getting multiple orgasms from a nice, long shag.
Nothing serious, never anything exclusive, and certainly nothing more than one night.
Seeing Weasley sitting at The Leaky Cauldron nursing his whisky and more than likely whining to Potter about Granger, Pansy made her decision then to seduce him. Not only to see if what they say of the Weasley men held true, but to also exact revenge upon Granger for having everything with Weasley that Pansy never had.
The fuck hadn’t been disappointing. She was quite satisfied and surprised by the thickness of Ron’s cock. It stretched her when he entered, turning a slight pain to pure pleasure and bringing her to full orgasm within minutes. It was, however, quite disappointing to realize he’d been imagining fucking Granger the whole time.
Pansy looked over at Ron sitting on the edge of the disheveled bed with his head in his hands. The pillows had clearly been pushed out of the way and now lay on the floor. The duvet was nearly hanging from the edge, and the sheets were in disarray.
"I didn’t mean to yell her name," Ron said thickly through his hands, "it’s just…"
Without waiting for him to finish, Pansy walked out of the bedroom, into the lounge, and came face to face with a shocked Hermione Granger.
"He’s a good fuck, but you’re more than welcome to keep him," Pansy sneered as she brushed past Hermione and walked straight out the door.
~*~
"Hermione. No. Don’t… It’s not like that."
Hermione heard the words with such anguish, such raw emotion, but at the moment, her heart hardened as she took in the mess of Ron’s bed. The pillows were strung across the floor, the duvet hanging from the end, and the sheet torn from the corners.
"What, exactly is it like then, Ronald, if it’s not like that?" she said with as much hurt and anger she could muster when her eyes skimmed the room and she noticed a red, lacy bra hanging from the light fixture.
"I… I… It’s just that," she heard him stammer as tears began to fall from her eyes. She was trying desperately not to let him see her cry, but noticing the red bra was like a catalyst, and more pooled in the corners, threatening to fall.
"Bloody hell, Hermione, you were the one that walked out on me!" shouted Ron.
"Seven days ago! Seven days, Ron, and…" The anguish she felt was unfathomable. Nothing could compare to the knowledge of what she just witnessed with Pansy sneering at her, and knowing as well that she and Ron had spent many hours there together.
Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Hermione hardened her heart against the obvious and spoke her mind.
"And…how could you, Ron? With Pansy?" Her voice was raw with emotion but firm in delivery.
"Yes, I left. I left because I needed some space. From you, from me, from us… We had been fighting all too much lately. I needed to get away, to find myself again. To be the woman you once fell in love with years ago, not the harpy I had become from work load stress and taking it out on you."
She stood there watching Ron with a blank expression on his face. He didn’t say a word.
The tears that threatened to fall earlier were back in full force. She hastily blinked them away, and turning, she walked out on Ron.
~*~
"Yes, I left. I left because I needed some space. From you, from me, from us… We had been fighting all too much lately. I needed to get away, to find myself again. To be the woman you once fell in love with years ago, not the harpy I had become from work load stress and taking it out on you."
He heard her words and saw her features shift from heartbroken to vacant.
Say something! Anything! Make her understand! he screamed to himself, but his mouth would not open and the words would not come as they stared at each other.
It took Hermione turning and walking through the door to force him into action, and he jumped from the bed, still naked, and quickly followed her into the lounge. She was at the fireplace, Floo Powder in hand.
"Please, Hermione," he managed. "Please. I’ll do anything it takes …"
His voice faltered and he grabbed hold of the chair to steady himself when she stepped into the green flames and disappeared.