A Loving Game of Dare
Title: A Loving Game of Dare
Rating: PG?
Author: scratches_i_am
Word Count: 613
Warnings: Breasts
Summary:“You mean, after that horrible date where Draco and Lovegood were there? At that…. Mini-golf course? The one where I threw the club at the clowns face?”
Disclaimer:This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is be ing made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: Welcome to fic #7 of my Christmas fest. I wrote this quickly because the idea popped into my head and I couldn’t get it out. Really, isn’t the thought of Pansy with a golf club just entirely amazing? Or maybe it is a little scary…
“I didn’t marry you because you’re the “once upon a time” type, Pansy.” Harry leaned against the wall and looked down at the woman sprawled out along their leather couch.
“Oh no?” She batted her lashes and asked, “So why, pray tell, Harry James Potter, savior of the world as we know it, did you marry me?”
He shrugged before walking across the room covered in half wrapped presents and tubes of wrapping paper. “Oh you know, a little dare from your good friend Draco.”
Whipping her head to the side, she looked at him and narrowed her eyes, “You aren’t kidding.”
“Of course not.” He laughed before sitting on the ground and flicking a Christmas tree bulb across the floor; he watched as their calico Bootsie chased after it.
“How drunk were you?” Pansy draped one arm down Harry’s chest and nipped at his ear. “When was this? How long did it take you to ask me? Why did you agree?”
Turning and kissing her chin Harry smiled devilishly. “I was completely sober; a year to the day before we got married; about six months; and because I’m out of my mind.”
“You’re crazy, Harry.” She shook her head and laughed, “We were only together two months before you asked me.”
“I know this.” He grasped her fingers and traced his thumb over her knuckles. “But once you slapped me across the face for being, as I quote, “a pig-headed, convoluted, fascist,” I knew you were the one.”
“You mean, after that horrible date where Draco and Lovegood were there? At that…. Mini-golf course? The one where I threw the club at the clowns face?”
“That very one, yes.”
“Oh merde, I cannot believe that was the deciding factor.” Her eyes widened in horror before her other hand raked its way through his dark tangled locks. “You had an egg sized lump on your head from a golf ball.” Harry’s grinned widened and he let out a laugh. “I made you bleed.” She sighed and rolled her eyes.
“But do you remember what you did afterwards?” He looked at her through his black fringe and smiled widely.
Narrowing her eyes, she pursed her lips and shook her head.
“Well, honey-bee,” Harry turned slightly to look at her, “You crouched down on the ground next to where my prone body was laying, scooped my head up, and let it rest on your shoulder.”
“Draco complained that you were bleeding all over the Versace top.” She laughed and tugged at his hair.
“Yes, well, along with me bleeding all over your top, said top had this amazing scoop neck, and in my state of almost unconsciousness, the sight of large breasts kept me alert until you, Draco, a nd Luna could get everyone away to heal the gash in my head.”
“You swot!” Pansy slapped at her husband’s chest and howled in laughter. “So my wit, charm, and golf swing were not deciding factors?”
“Not at all.” He leaned over and kissed her quickly on the lips, “It was your viscous attitude and extremely well developed breasts that were the deciding factors of our relationship.”
“Good.” She ginned quickly, her black hair being pushed out of her eyes by her now free hand. Swinging her legs off of the couch, she moved quickly to pick up Bootsie and the Christmas bulb and said, “It was your tight arse and money that won me over, Harry.”
Running after her, Harry slipped on a piece of wrapping paper and went crashing into the bedroom door, “You are insufferable!”
“Love you too, Potter.” He heard her call before the sound of a shower turning on met his ears.
Rating: PG?
Author: scratches_i_am
Word Count: 613
Warnings: Breasts
Summary:“You mean, after that horrible date where Draco and Lovegood were there? At that…. Mini-golf course? The one where I threw the club at the clowns face?”
Disclaimer:This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is be ing made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: Welcome to fic #7 of my Christmas fest. I wrote this quickly because the idea popped into my head and I couldn’t get it out. Really, isn’t the thought of Pansy with a golf club just entirely amazing? Or maybe it is a little scary…
“I didn’t marry you because you’re the “once upon a time” type, Pansy.” Harry leaned against the wall and looked down at the woman sprawled out along their leather couch.
“Oh no?” She batted her lashes and asked, “So why, pray tell, Harry James Potter, savior of the world as we know it, did you marry me?”
He shrugged before walking across the room covered in half wrapped presents and tubes of wrapping paper. “Oh you know, a little dare from your good friend Draco.”
Whipping her head to the side, she looked at him and narrowed her eyes, “You aren’t kidding.”
“Of course not.” He laughed before sitting on the ground and flicking a Christmas tree bulb across the floor; he watched as their calico Bootsie chased after it.
“How drunk were you?” Pansy draped one arm down Harry’s chest and nipped at his ear. “When was this? How long did it take you to ask me? Why did you agree?”
Turning and kissing her chin Harry smiled devilishly. “I was completely sober; a year to the day before we got married; about six months; and because I’m out of my mind.”
“You’re crazy, Harry.” She shook her head and laughed, “We were only together two months before you asked me.”
“I know this.” He grasped her fingers and traced his thumb over her knuckles. “But once you slapped me across the face for being, as I quote, “a pig-headed, convoluted, fascist,” I knew you were the one.”
“You mean, after that horrible date where Draco and Lovegood were there? At that…. Mini-golf course? The one where I threw the club at the clowns face?”
“That very one, yes.”
“Oh merde, I cannot believe that was the deciding factor.” Her eyes widened in horror before her other hand raked its way through his dark tangled locks. “You had an egg sized lump on your head from a golf ball.” Harry’s grinned widened and he let out a laugh. “I made you bleed.” She sighed and rolled her eyes.
“But do you remember what you did afterwards?” He looked at her through his black fringe and smiled widely.
Narrowing her eyes, she pursed her lips and shook her head.
“Well, honey-bee,” Harry turned slightly to look at her, “You crouched down on the ground next to where my prone body was laying, scooped my head up, and let it rest on your shoulder.”
“Draco complained that you were bleeding all over the Versace top.” She laughed and tugged at his hair.
“Yes, well, along with me bleeding all over your top, said top had this amazing scoop neck, and in my state of almost unconsciousness, the sight of large breasts kept me alert until you, Draco, a nd Luna could get everyone away to heal the gash in my head.”
“You swot!” Pansy slapped at her husband’s chest and howled in laughter. “So my wit, charm, and golf swing were not deciding factors?”
“Not at all.” He leaned over and kissed her quickly on the lips, “It was your viscous attitude and extremely well developed breasts that were the deciding factors of our relationship.”
“Good.” She ginned quickly, her black hair being pushed out of her eyes by her now free hand. Swinging her legs off of the couch, she moved quickly to pick up Bootsie and the Christmas bulb and said, “It was your tight arse and money that won me over, Harry.”
Running after her, Harry slipped on a piece of wrapping paper and went crashing into the bedroom door, “You are insufferable!”
“Love you too, Potter.” He heard her call before the sound of a shower turning on met his ears.