Shag & the City

Shag & the City, Part Two: Pansy Parkinson

Shifting my purse slightly so that it doesn't dig into my bare shoulder, I ring the bell for Ginny's flat.

A muffled giggle, which is followed by, "Yes? Pansy, is that you?"

"It's me," I affirm. "Are you ready?"

"Er, not yet," Ginny replies. There's another giggle. "Why don't you come up?" The front door buzzes, and I push my way into the small entryway of Ginny's building. Cho, Hermione and I have all told Ginny she should move out of this old place into something more upscale, but she claims to love this building; something about its "romantic history."

Personally, I think Ginny just prefers expensive footwear to a decent building, and prioritizes accordingly.

The door to her flat is ajar, and I can hear more of Ginny's giggling. I rap softly on the doorframe as I open the door. "Is it safe to come in?" I query dryly.

Ginny's standing in the middle of the living room, clad in just a bra and a pair of men's boxers, and Cedric is mercilessly tickling her as she laughs and tries to twist away.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," I add, shamlessly sneaking a look at Cedric, who, wearing only a pair of battered Levi's, is quite worth ogling.

He grins at me, managing one last rib tickle before Ginny wriggles away and ducks into the safe haven of her closet. "I'm just trying to convince my girlfriend to stay home tonight," he says, shooting a mock-disapproving glare in Ginny's direction. "Won't you let her stay home, Pansy?" he pleads.

"Why don't you come out with us, Cedric?" I toss back.

"Claims he's tired, so Ron's coming over so they can listen to the Cannons match on the WWN," Ginny calls from the closet. She emerges in a tiny, sapphire blue Dolce and Gabanna dress that leaves very little to the imagination; she's holding two pairs of barely-there heeled sandals. "Which ones?"

"The silver," I say immediately. "Can we go? The evening is wasting away, and there are still at least a million sexy single men in this city that I have yet to-"

"Shag?" Cedric interrupts. For a former Hufflepuff, he can be a touch on the sharp side. Which is why, in spite of the fact that he was a Hufflepuff, he gets my best friend stamp of approval for Ginny.

"I was going to say 'meet,'" I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "Ginny, let's go."

Struggling into the second shoe, Ginny half-hops out of her closet, leaning against Cedric for a quick kiss. "Have a nice night of relaxation at home," she says sweetly as she buckles the thin strap of silver leather around her ankle. "And tell Ron I say hello."

"Will do," he replies with a nod. "Have fun, beautiful."

Ginny kisses him again. "Love you. See you later tonight.

"Are Cho and Hermione meeting us there?" Ginny asks as we exit her flat's Anti-Apparition zone.

I Apparate to the club, waiting for her to arrive before answering. "Hermione's not coming. She said something about enjoying her alone time tonight."

Ginny nods. "I'm glad she asked Ron to move in with her," she says. "But I can also see how she'd be glad to have him out of the house." She leans closer to me, as if afraid someone will overhear. "How are things going with them? Hermione won't tell me anything, of course. She claims it's 'a conflict of interest.'"

"As any good barrister would," I joke. "It seems as if it's working fairly well. They've only been living together a few weeks, but they're a good match." Internally, I roll my eyes. I've said what Ginny wants to hear, and she seems satisfied, but quite honestly, the very idea of monogamy makes my stomach turn.

"And what about Cho?" Ginny asks.

"She and Harry are attending some war orphans benefit. Can't have anyone thinking they don't have the perfect marriage, you know."

"Be good, Pansy," Ginny says, shooting me a warning look.

"It's just so irritating," I retort as we move up in the queue. "I helped her move out, but what thanks do I get, as she runs right back to Harry."

"He's her husband, Pansy," Ginny admonishes, examining her lipstick in a small mirror. "You can't expect her to stop loving him."

"I can hope, though," I mutter in an undertone.

"Bloody hell, Dean, I do believe the women in this city get more gorgeous every day. Just look at these two!"

Ginny and I turn to see Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas scurrying toward us. The four of us exchange kisses, and then Seamus tugs both of us out of line. "No waiting for two such lovelies," he says. "Dean's got," he leans forward, making his voice all breathy, "connections."

"Really?" Ginny asks as the two men weave us through the crowd and toward the front door. Dean leaves us at a table, saying he'll get drinks, and Seamus immediately begins dishing about his new boy toy.

I'm half-listening to Seamus's spiel, but I notice that Ginny is completely distracted by something- or perhaps I should say someone- across the room. Following her gaze, my eyes rest on Draco Malfoy. My first ex-boyfriend, Mr. Lousy First Shag himself.

What's even more disturbing by half, though, is the way he's looking right back at her. His face curls into one of his insufferable smirks, and I detect movement out of the corner of my eye- Ginny's giving him a covert little wave.

"Sorry to interrupt, Seamus," I say, "but, Ginny, what in the hell are you doing? How do you know Draco?" Of course she knows him, from school. What I really mean is, since when are the two of them on such friendly terms?

"We met a few weeks ago," she says distractedly, her eyes still fixed in Draco's direction, and I realize he's angling through the crowd, headed for our table.

"That man is divine," Seamus breathes, as enraptured as Ginny. I roll my eyes.

"To look at, maybe," I concede. "But not in bed."

"Oh, Pansy, he was a virgin, you can't have expected much," Ginny says uneasily.

"He wasn't a virgin every other time we slept together," I say in an aside to Seamus as Draco sidles up to our table. Draco nods sardonically at me, and I try to smile back, but it comes out more as a grimace- if I had a drink, I'd toss it in his face. What does he think he's doing, moving in on my best friend?

"Good evening," he says to Ginny, seeming the perfect gentleman. Beyond the nod, I'm apparently not worth noting. "Have you got a light?" he asks, indicating an unlit cigarette.

Draco Malfoy doesn't smoke, I'm almost certain of it. But Ginny doesn't know this, and of course she buys the line. I don't know what she's thinking, especially after her touching little domestic scene with Cedric, but she's got "take me now" written all over her. And if it were anyone but Draco, I'd be encouraging her.

Ginny smiles coyly, that I'm-looking-for-a-one-night-stand smile that I haven't seen her wear since the club-hopping days of the war years. "Is your wand malfuctioning?" she asks slyly, pulling out her own and producing a small flame at the tip.

"No, it's in perfect condition," Draco replies blandly, not rising to the unsubtle bait in her innuendo. He accepts the light, and to my surprise, he starts smoking the cigarette. Perhaps people change. But in any case, I'll not stay around to watch this unfortunate situation unfold.

"I need new faces," I say to Seamus, rolling my eyes. He smiles tolerantly, and I slip into the crowd. Dean never did make it back with drinks, so I head to the bar.

"One Knockturn Alley Knockup," I tell the bartender, impatiently drumming my nails on the polished stone of the bartop.

"That's a familiar-sounding order," says a voice from behind me.

I turn, smiling as I match voice to face, and face to name. "Well, well, Roger Davies," I say. "Fancy running into you. What are you doing in town? I thought you'd transfered to the Paris branch of Gringott's."

"I'm in London for my sister's wedding," Roger says, leaning close. "What are you doing tonight, Parkinson? Could I come by, maybe relive old times?"

"I think that could be arranged," I say, letting my hand rest on the front of his shirt, then slowly dragging it down to his stomach, finally hooking my thumbs on his belt buckle.

"When?" he asks, eyes glinting expectantly.

I pause to think. Seamus and Dean are here together, Cho and Hermione aren't coming, and Ginny's on her fool's errand with Draco. Leaving me with no obligations. Besides, shagging Roger Davies is never an unpleasant prospect. "Now."

"Now?" he asks incredulously.

"Now or never," I confirm. "Do you remember my flat?"

"I remember your everything, gorgeous," he replies.

I smirk at him. "Good." I Disapparate.

Roger doesn't take long to appear beside me at my building's Apparition Point, and we rush up the stairs, pausing only for a hurried grope on the landing. "I've missed you, Pansy," Roger murmurs into my neck.

"Mmmhmm," I reply, fumbling with the locking spells on my door. At last, we stumble into the front entry of my flat; Roger immediately presses me against the wall and starts tugging at my clothes. There's a sound of ripping fabric, and I wince against his mouth. Chanel isn't cheap, and Muggle couture doesn't mend well with magic.

"I'll replace that for you," Roger mutters as the now-tattered dress falls to the floor. His hands and lips are everywhere, and each sensation is exquisite until-

"Ouch!" I shove Roger away. "Did you just pinch my hip?"

"No," he says, sounding irritated. I mutter "Lumos," and the tip of my wand flickers to life. A small black owl is flitting about the entranceway, looking frantic, and a bit nervous- probably worried I'll have it stuffed for biting me. It has a gold ribbon marked "Urgent" tied around its neck.

As I reach for the owl's letter, Roger groans. "Pansy, can't it wait? There are other urgent matters at hand," he says, gesturing at himself.

"Interested as I am in the state of affairs in your trousers, Roger," I reply, ripping open the ivory vellum envelope, "I need to read this."

Pansy,

It's important that I see you immediately. I'm at the Edinburgh flat.

-Blaise

I hate myself for it, but my stomach flutters excitedly, and it has nothing to do with the half-naked man in front of me. "I have to go," I say shortly to Roger.

His jaw drops. "You're joking."

"Afraid not," I reply airly as I patch my dress back together with a quick sewing spell. The temporary seam won't last past the morning, but with luck, it won't need to.

"Pansy, you can't leave me like this," Roger growls, moving to press me against the wall as I tug off my shredded hose.

"Don't worry, Roger, dear. You said you remember everything, so I assume you can find the shower? Take a cold one, and let yourself out when you've finished."

He glares at me as I slip out the door, and I know I've done nothing good for my reputation, getting myself labeled as a tease, but I don't care. I may sleep with a lot of men, but one of my cardinal rules is that I never, ever sleep with one man when I'm distracted by thoughts of another. And Blaise Zabini is a distraction of the highest order.

His doorman recognizes me, waving me in the front door of Blaise's upscale Edinburgh residence with a suggestive smirk. Ignoring him, I head for the elevator, trying as best I can not to fidget while I wait for the slow climb to the eighth floor.

Blaise is waiting for me at the door to his flat, impeccably dressed and holding out a Waterford champagne flute bubblingly full of Dom Perignon. I smile coyly at him, hoping to cover the nervousness that's twisting underneath the surface of my skin. "So lacking in company tonight that you had to summon me all the way up here?" I tease, accepting the glass and taking a sip of the champagne as Blaise slides the door closed behind me.

"Certainly company the caliber of yours," he replies, wrapping one hand around mine and guiding the champagne flute to his lips.

I wrench my hand away with more force than I'd intended; some of the champagne slops over the edge of the glass and onto my dress. I rake Blaise with a teasing look. "Oops, silly me. Suppose I'd best get out of these wet clothes."

Blaise grabs my wrist, stopping my hand halfway to the zipper. "Pansy," he says softly. "Why such a hurry?"

"Because I'm here to shag you," I say, leaning forward and unbuttoning his shirt. "So we'd best get started."

He gently pushes my hands away with one of his own; with his other hand, he reaches out to cup my cheek, a faint smile playing at his lips as he studies my face.

"What?" I demand, suddenly uncomfortable. What is he doing?

"You're a lovely woman, Pansy," he murmurs. I squirm out of his grasp, reaching for the closure on his trousers, but he catches my hands again. "What's the matter? What do you want?"

Since he has my hands, all I can do is press myself forward against him. "I want you to fuck me, Blaise," I say exasperatedly, "not gaze into my eyes and tell me I'm beautiful." My heart pounds like a teenage girl's, and I feel like a fool. How is it that Blaise can do this to me? He's just a man. It's just sex. It means nothing.

Blaise's hands fall to rest on my hips. "I will fuck you tonight, Pansy. You needn't worry." He smirks slightly. "But I've fucked you before. I'd like a chance to just look at you." He tilts his head down, and I can't drag my eyes away- his gaze is hypnotic.

"Blaise-" I try to protest one final time. He shakes his head silently, pulling me against him, and we stand together, arms entwined, not moving.

Much to my disgust, I think I might be falling in love with him.

***

Even though I'm forty minutes late to Madam Puddifoot's the next morning, Ginny still isn't there when I arrive. "Where's Ginny?" I ask Hermione and Cho as I drop my purse on the fifth chair. "Even she isn't usually this late."

Cho shakes her head. "I don't know. I was in her neighborhood this morning, so I tried stopping by her place, but no one answered."

"Maybe she and Cedric were a little bit busy this morning," Hermione suggests, wiggling her eyebrows.

"I doubt it," I blurt, then wish I hadn't. If Ginny went home with Draco last night, she wouldn't want Cho and Hermione to know about it.

"Why?"

"Well, ah, it was pretty late by the time we left the club last night. She's probably just asleep." I force a smile. "So. How are you two?"

Cho turns to Hermione. "Since Ginny's not here, you first. Tell us everything about Ron. And don't leave out any details, I'm living vicariously through your sex life." I raise my eyebrows at this- Cho, joking about her dry spell with Harry? Surprising.

"There's not much to say," Hermione replies, smiling. "It's just- wonderful."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "And the sex is still good? It isn't monotonous?"

She rolls her eyes at the crudeness of my question, but then leans forward, eyes shimmering in a most mischievously un-Hermione-like manner. "It's still marvelous. In fact," she continues, dropping her voice to a whisper, "we've already had sex twice today."

Cho's eyes widen. "But it's only eleven in the morning!"

"I know," Hermione says, leaning back in her chair and looking like a contented cat.

"I have to hand it to Ron," I say, taking a sip of my lemon water. "I'm impressed- he just doesn't seem the type." I pause for a moment, then smirk. "Are any of the other Weasley brothers still single?"

"Oh, surely you're not looking for anyone, Pansy," Cho says.

"I am always looking, Cho," I reply, winking at her.

She laughs. "But what about Blaise Zabini? Are you still seeing him?"

"Off and on, but nothing serious," I lie.

"Oh, Pansy," Cho sighs.

I feel a flicker of irritation. "What do you mean by that?"

"By what?"

"By 'oh, Pansy.'" I narrow my eyes at her. "Like you're disappointed in me or something."

Cho looks helplessly at Hermione, who just shrugs. "It's just, well, aren't you ever going to settle down? Wouldn't you be happier in a relationship that's a little more stable? I thought maybe Blaise would be the one to finally, you know-"

"Tame me?" I snap. "No, thank you." I turn to Hermione, mimicking her little eyebrow wiggle. "Actually, last night, I was the one who tamed him."

Cho's cheeks turn pink with a mixture of indignation and disgust. "Well, I just think-"

"What I think," I say, interrupting her, "is that you've been married to Harry for too long."

Cho's face whitens, and she sits back in her chair, posture abruptly closed and angry; only then do I realize the other implications of what I've said. "Oh, Cho, I didn't mean-"

Cho gathers up her things; datebook and lipstick are stuffed haphazardly into a tiny Louis Vuitton purse. "A slip of the tongue, I'm sure," she says coldly, tossing several Sickles on the table. She turns to Hermione. "Congratulations. I'm glad one of us can be happy." Then she pivots on her heel, disappearing through the cafe door.

"And then there were two," Hermione says to me, amusement dancing in her eyes. Clearly she's not too concerned about Cho's fit of pique. "Quite the morning."

"Indeed," I say, finishing my cold eggs with a grimace. Hermione peers closely at me.

"So, Pansy. You can tell me the truth. How are things for you, really?"

"Nothing to tell," I say lightly. "Regular shagging, but nothing of the sort you've got."

Hermione smiles softly at the mere mention of Ron, but she's not about to be distracted. "With whom?"

"What?" I ask, playing stupid.

"Who. Are. You. Shagging?" Hermione asks, refusing to let me evade her questions.

"Blaise," I finally reply.

"And?" she asks.

"There is no 'and,'" I say irritably, pushing away my plate. "No one else. Just Blaise." I scowl, thinking of last night's aborted attempt with Roger. "Just Blaise," I repeat.

"Ah," Hermione says, taking a sip of her tea and looking satisfied, as if the last piece of a puzzle had fallen into place. "I see why you didn't want to tell Cho. She'd already be down at Madam Malkin's, submitting orders for wedding robes."

I nod. "Precisely." I hesitate for a moment, trying to decide if I should tell her or not. But of my three best friends, Hermione's the most likely to give me an honest, sensible response- Cho's reaction would be predictable, and if Ginny's doing what I suspect she is with Draco, she's not exactly the ideal representative of a well-adjusted relationship.

"Hermione?" I ask.

"Yes?"

"How do you stand it? Being in love."

Hermione's hand flies to her mouth, and I know she's trying to suppress a chuckle. "It's an emotion, Pansy, not a torture device."

"Oh, really?" I snort. "I beg to differ."

Hermione drops her hand, and she's staring at me. "Do my ears deceive me?" she asks. "Or are you admitting that you just might be in love with Blaise Zabini?"

I avoid her eyes, which is the only evidence she needs. "Oh, Pansy, I cannot believe it," she crows. "Whatever happened to 'monogamy is monotony?'"

"Monogamy is monotony," I snap. I tell her the story of Roger, and how Blaise's letter completely distracted me. "I didn't even want to fuck Roger," I say miserably. "I have monogamy, Hermione. I probably caught it from you and Ginny and Cho!"

"It's not a disease, either," Hermione laughs.

"You're not to tell Cho or Ginny," I warn her. "Your reaction is bad enough- I couldn't stand having Cho be smug at me."

"Why not Ginny?"

Because she's preoccupied with her own problems right now, I think. "I'll tell her myself. But please don't mention it in front of either of them?"

Hermione grins. "Your dirty little monogamous secret is safe with me, Pansy."

***

After brunch, I tell Hermione I'm going to see Blaise, which I'm sure amuses her no end, but in actuality, I have an entirely different affluent ex-Slytherin to visit.

"Pansy?" Draco's face registers surprise as he opens the door and invites me in, but it's rapidly replaced with a smirk. "If you're looking for Ginny, she's already left."

Well. At least he's saved me the embarrassment of having to ask whether or not he shagged my best friend last night. "No, I'll talk to her later. Right now, you're the one I'm looking for."

He grins. "Flattering, Pansy, but I'm a bit taken up with something else right now-"

I push past him into the front room, taking a seat on the settee. "You and I are going to have a little chat, Draco, and we're going to have it right now, whether it's convenient for you or not."

"Oh?" he replies, sitting across from me. "What about?"

"Ginny. What are you playing at with her?"

He arches one silvery eyebrow at me. "What makes you think it's a game?"

"Because that's what you do, Draco," I hiss. "You play games with people. But that girl is my best friend, and I'll not let you do it to her."

Draco smirks again, and I'd like to slap him; slap him so hard that that insufferable smirk would fly off his face and shatter against his paneled walls. "I never thought I'd see the day when you called a Weasley friend, Pansy. Or Chang and Granger, either."

"I see," I say coldly. "Ginny's good enough to shag, but not good enough for anything else?" I know my words are hypocritical- when I first volunteered for the Nightingales during the War, I was mortified that my unit included Penniless Ginny Weasley, Sniveling Cho Chang, and Mudblood Hermione Granger. But I've changed.

"Don't twist my words," Draco says, his tone as chilly as my own. "That's not what I said."

We glare at each other for a moment; finally, I come to the point. "Ginny has a good man who loves her," I say, almost not believing that the words are coming out of my mouth. "So what I'm here to recommend to you is this- enjoy the memory of last night's fun, but leave Ginny alone. Because if you jeopardize what she has, I will make you regret it."

His eyes meet mine, a steely angry gray. "I appreciate the warning, Pansy," he replies, "though I hope you'll not be too disappointed when I ignore it."

"Why Ginny, Draco?" I demand, exasperated. I'd forgotten how spoiled and stubborn Draco can be. "There are plenty of other women who'd love to be with a man as wealthy and influential as you are."

"Because they aren't good enough," he says, a bit of his old childish petulance seeping though, so that I can almost see the whiny little boy peering out at me through the eyes of this too-handsome, exasperating man.

"And Ginny suddenly is?" I ask. "Since when have you ever thought the Weasleys were good enough for you? You spent your entire school career going out of your way to remind them that they weren't."

"So did you!" he explodes, icy facade melting in a flash of temper. "Are you the only person allowed to change, Pansy?"

I'm silent for a moment, waiting for his anger to cool. "No," I say slowly. "I'm not. But Ginny is my friend, Draco, I am not shagging her." I meet his eyes, deciding to appeal to our old friendship, the one that goes back to our Slytherin schooldays. "All I ask is that you admit that you want her because she's beautiful and the sex is good. Ginny might believe you're a different person, Draco, but I don't. I've known you too long- you might as well be honest with me."

"I have been honest with you, Pansy," he replies, face now coldly neutral. "I can't make you believe it, but it's the truth. I want Ginny, I don't want to hurt her, and like you, I've changed. I can't give you any more than that."

He glares at me defiantly, an expression I've never seen on him before, and I have the strangest realization- Draco Malfoy is scared. Scared of what I could say to Ginny to influence her, but more than that, scared of himself and what Ginny might be doing to him- how she might be affecting him. He isn't toying with her.

"It's not just sex," I say, half questioning, though I think I already know the answer.

"No," he replies.

And as I leave Draco's flat, having given him my tacit approval, I realize he and I aren't all that's changed- our whole world has.

***