Fic: Lesson
Title: Lesson
Author: wook77
Rating: R
Pairing: Pansy/Moaning Myrtle
Wordcount:
Summary: Pansy knows where the blame for Potter's attack on Draco goes. It's time Myrtle learns the lesson that ghosts, Mudblood ghosts, don't deserve to associate with him.
A/N: Day 15 of the Fic Advent Calendar. Written for lurkitty's request of Pansy/Moaning Myrtle that she probably didn't think I would do. Given a quick beta by ficlette
Pansy never understood what it was about that loo that had Draco hurrying to it. They'd been so close on the train ride to Hogwarts back at the beginning of the year. If she concentrated, she could still feel the softness of his hair as it drifted between her fingers as she'd stroked him. She knew that he was burdened but weren't they all? It wasn't like her parents weren't putting any more pressure on her than his mother was putting on him, after all.
He should have felt comfortable coming to her with his burdens. He shouldn't have always be running to the loo, look what it had gotten him, after all. Fucking Potter and his righteous Gryffindor casting of what should have been dark and unforgivable spells had slashed Draco, spilled his blood and left him with horrible scars. The sight of Draco in that bed, surrounded by all those people looking so serious and speaking in emphatic whispers before looking over at her and Blaise as they sat there and waited to visit and console. Thank god that Professor Snape had known what spell it was that Potter had used on Draco and could fix it.
Potter wasn't the only one Pansy blamed for Draco getting hurt. Oh no, the blame also lay at the feet of that disgusting Mudblood ghost. If only Myrtle was alive, Pansy would kill her again. But as she was dead, Pansy could only thank whoever had had the foresight to take care of that issue in the first place.
It was with this thought that Pansy stalked towards the second floor girl's room after she'd been made to leave Draco's side. Even as she cursed Madam Pomfrey for making her leave when it was quite obvious that Draco needed friendly company and a guard since Potter was allowed to roam about at will, she plotted and planned just what she was going to do to that pimply ghost. Throwing wads of paper at and through her had been fun as a First Year but it wasn't nearly enough for this.
She hadn't quite formulated her plan by the time she flung the door open, storming inside and shouting out, "Myrtle! Where are you?"
The only response was the sound of sniffling from one of the stalls. Pansy's hand shot out, forcing the door to the stall open and it banged against the wall. "You. What were you thinking? Who did you think you were?"
"I don't have to talk to you!" Myrtle cried out before wailing.
"Stop that revolting display. You're going to listen to me and you're going to do exactly what I say. From now on, you leave Draco Malfoy alone or you will face the consequences." When the door started to swing shut, Pansy put her hand against it and held it open.
"You can't make me!" Myrtle started to weep once more.
"Do you have any idea who I am? Who my family is? We know more spells than you could ever conceive of, Mudblood. There are plenty of banishing spells to get rid of unwanted ghosts, for example." The last was said almost conversationally. When Myrtle stopped crying and only stared with the occasional sniffle, Pansy continued, "You will stay away from him."
"He likes me, tells me all his troubles! We're friends!" Myrtle still sounded far too defiant and the last tenuous threads of her hold on her temper snapped.
"You will never be friends with him. Besides being a disgusting filthy Mudblood, you're dead. Draco needs someone he can touch, someone that can touch him." Myrtle wailed as Pansy crossed her arms and twisted her face into mockery of a smile.
"I can…" Pansy didn't allow Myrtle to continue.
"You can what? You can touch him, sooth away the cares of the day? You can let him touch you? Would he be able to do this?" Pansy's arms uncrossed so that they could undo the buttons of her sweater. Her hands rested on her stomach, swirling small circles through the thin fabric of her shirt. "Can you give him this?"
Her fingers were quick on the buttons of her blouse. She caressed the lace that cupped her breasts before touching the soft skin on her stomach. Myrtle stared as Pansy lifted her skirt and pulled her knickers down. "Can you? Or can you only moan and watch?" Pansy's fingers twisted into herself as she widened her stance and her skirts offered small glimpses of just what she was doing as she tormented Myrtle with what she couldn't do.
"Can ghosts even touch themselves? I bet you can't. I bet you were never even kissed, died too young, just like a Mudblood should. Kill you all before you can breed and spread your taint." She hummed the words as she rubbed her clit with her thumb while searching for that small spot just inside. Even as she berated Myrtle, stared at her sitting on the toilet of her stall, she lost herself in the pleasure of the hard touch on her clit and the fullness of her fingers inside of her. She was wet and used it to smooth her strokes.
The warmth pooled in her gut as she touched herself. She raised a hand and tasted herself before drifting her damp fingers down her face, over her collarbone to cup a breast. She pinched a nipple through the lace and the scratchiness of the lace, the smoothness of her touch below, the juxtaposition of those touches and the shock on Myrtle's face was enough to have her come, her stomach clenching and a moan bursting through.
When she finished, she calmly bent down, pulled her knickers back up and flashed a triumphant grin at Myrtle. "You can't give him that. You're not friends, you never will be. Stay away from him."
Turning smartly on a heel, Pansy left the room, assured that there would be no trouble from that quarter any longer. It was now time to take care of Potter.
Author: wook77
Rating: R
Pairing: Pansy/Moaning Myrtle
Wordcount:
Summary: Pansy knows where the blame for Potter's attack on Draco goes. It's time Myrtle learns the lesson that ghosts, Mudblood ghosts, don't deserve to associate with him.
A/N: Day 15 of the Fic Advent Calendar. Written for lurkitty's request of Pansy/Moaning Myrtle that she probably didn't think I would do. Given a quick beta by ficlette
Pansy never understood what it was about that loo that had Draco hurrying to it. They'd been so close on the train ride to Hogwarts back at the beginning of the year. If she concentrated, she could still feel the softness of his hair as it drifted between her fingers as she'd stroked him. She knew that he was burdened but weren't they all? It wasn't like her parents weren't putting any more pressure on her than his mother was putting on him, after all.
He should have felt comfortable coming to her with his burdens. He shouldn't have always be running to the loo, look what it had gotten him, after all. Fucking Potter and his righteous Gryffindor casting of what should have been dark and unforgivable spells had slashed Draco, spilled his blood and left him with horrible scars. The sight of Draco in that bed, surrounded by all those people looking so serious and speaking in emphatic whispers before looking over at her and Blaise as they sat there and waited to visit and console. Thank god that Professor Snape had known what spell it was that Potter had used on Draco and could fix it.
Potter wasn't the only one Pansy blamed for Draco getting hurt. Oh no, the blame also lay at the feet of that disgusting Mudblood ghost. If only Myrtle was alive, Pansy would kill her again. But as she was dead, Pansy could only thank whoever had had the foresight to take care of that issue in the first place.
It was with this thought that Pansy stalked towards the second floor girl's room after she'd been made to leave Draco's side. Even as she cursed Madam Pomfrey for making her leave when it was quite obvious that Draco needed friendly company and a guard since Potter was allowed to roam about at will, she plotted and planned just what she was going to do to that pimply ghost. Throwing wads of paper at and through her had been fun as a First Year but it wasn't nearly enough for this.
She hadn't quite formulated her plan by the time she flung the door open, storming inside and shouting out, "Myrtle! Where are you?"
The only response was the sound of sniffling from one of the stalls. Pansy's hand shot out, forcing the door to the stall open and it banged against the wall. "You. What were you thinking? Who did you think you were?"
"I don't have to talk to you!" Myrtle cried out before wailing.
"Stop that revolting display. You're going to listen to me and you're going to do exactly what I say. From now on, you leave Draco Malfoy alone or you will face the consequences." When the door started to swing shut, Pansy put her hand against it and held it open.
"You can't make me!" Myrtle started to weep once more.
"Do you have any idea who I am? Who my family is? We know more spells than you could ever conceive of, Mudblood. There are plenty of banishing spells to get rid of unwanted ghosts, for example." The last was said almost conversationally. When Myrtle stopped crying and only stared with the occasional sniffle, Pansy continued, "You will stay away from him."
"He likes me, tells me all his troubles! We're friends!" Myrtle still sounded far too defiant and the last tenuous threads of her hold on her temper snapped.
"You will never be friends with him. Besides being a disgusting filthy Mudblood, you're dead. Draco needs someone he can touch, someone that can touch him." Myrtle wailed as Pansy crossed her arms and twisted her face into mockery of a smile.
"I can…" Pansy didn't allow Myrtle to continue.
"You can what? You can touch him, sooth away the cares of the day? You can let him touch you? Would he be able to do this?" Pansy's arms uncrossed so that they could undo the buttons of her sweater. Her hands rested on her stomach, swirling small circles through the thin fabric of her shirt. "Can you give him this?"
Her fingers were quick on the buttons of her blouse. She caressed the lace that cupped her breasts before touching the soft skin on her stomach. Myrtle stared as Pansy lifted her skirt and pulled her knickers down. "Can you? Or can you only moan and watch?" Pansy's fingers twisted into herself as she widened her stance and her skirts offered small glimpses of just what she was doing as she tormented Myrtle with what she couldn't do.
"Can ghosts even touch themselves? I bet you can't. I bet you were never even kissed, died too young, just like a Mudblood should. Kill you all before you can breed and spread your taint." She hummed the words as she rubbed her clit with her thumb while searching for that small spot just inside. Even as she berated Myrtle, stared at her sitting on the toilet of her stall, she lost herself in the pleasure of the hard touch on her clit and the fullness of her fingers inside of her. She was wet and used it to smooth her strokes.
The warmth pooled in her gut as she touched herself. She raised a hand and tasted herself before drifting her damp fingers down her face, over her collarbone to cup a breast. She pinched a nipple through the lace and the scratchiness of the lace, the smoothness of her touch below, the juxtaposition of those touches and the shock on Myrtle's face was enough to have her come, her stomach clenching and a moan bursting through.
When she finished, she calmly bent down, pulled her knickers back up and flashed a triumphant grin at Myrtle. "You can't give him that. You're not friends, you never will be. Stay away from him."
Turning smartly on a heel, Pansy left the room, assured that there would be no trouble from that quarter any longer. It was now time to take care of Potter.