“Pansy, would you fetch Hermione? I need to talk to her about the Marlow case.”
“Oh, of course Potter,” Pansy chimed sweetly, standing up from behind her desk. Her heels clicked as she walked to the door and she didn’t forget to slam it behind her with a force. Having to walk through the whole department and over to the laboratories wasn’t overly as difficult as it was plain irritating. Granger’s team of researchers worked in a warded environment and all the flying memos would just wait at the door, sometimes for hours, for somebody to collect and distribute them. They didn’t like any disruptions there.
So it became common practice to go there directly if one needed something from any of the members. That’s why Pansy was currently strolling through the long corridor, her head held high, the click click click of her heels announcing her coming.
She swatted at the memos that kept hitting the door with persistence, shooing them away, thrust the door open and entered the research department.
One memo quickly recovered before she managed to get behind the ward placed at the door, and it hit Pansy in the back of her head with its sharp point.
She scratched the stinging spot it left there, cursing under her breath as she let the door slam behind her.
“A ray of sunshine as always, I see,” came an amused voice from the door on her left.
“Fuck off, Alver. Where’s Granger?”
Alver, Granger’s right hand, was leaning on the doorframe to his office, arms folded across his chest, his handsome face all smug and smirking.
“Looking for your girl again? It’s cute.” His Danish accent wasn’t strong, but his r’s always gave him away. “She’s in lab C.”
“I’m ignoring you and I’m leaving,” Pansy said and stalked away before he could notice any redness in her face.
The echo of Alver’s laugh followed her to the glass door with a sign reading “LABORATORIES” in all red capitals and a smaller, equally red sign with “Do not disturb” underneath. The door looked out into an empty hallway lined with three doors on each side, all labeled with letters from A to F, and one large door directly across, where the storage was.
Pansy stepped in, feeling another set of wards tingling on her skin.
Laboratory C was the last door on the left. Her steps fell silent in the magically protected environment, and the air grew colder than in the main corridor, making the hairs on her arms stand up.
She tapped her wand to the doorknob and the door clicked open. Immediately, Granger’s voice filled the sterile silence of the hallway.
“...unresponsive to standard procedure spells. I will use the advanced Protegen-- Pansy!” Granger startled and quickly put her work under a stasis charm as her Quick Quotes Quill scribbled furiously into what looked like a thick notebook, of all things.
“I told you not to do that!”
Pansy smirked. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
“Would you close the door behind you? I need the wards to be firmly in place!”
Pansy did what she was asked to, and this time felt the protective wards tickle her at the nape of her neck. She watched Granger for a bit, trotting about the room, placing more spells on the strange item floating above the lab counter, cleaning up scattered papers, tucking one of her unruly curls behind her ear without success.
“What’s up then?” Granger asked as she stopped to face Pansy. With one quick swish of her wand, the Quick Quotes Quill and the notebook landed neatly on a near counter.
“It’s the Marlow case. Potter wants some updates on the scroll and the potions. He called you to his office.”
“Marlow? I told him on Monday that it was moving slowly! If I had any updates, I would’ve shared them already. Why is he like this?”
Granger frowned, irritated, but took off her protective lab coat and hung it on the wall, patting it almost affectionately before they both stepped back into the corridor.
Pansy fought an amused smile from spreading across her lips as Granger sealed the door closed with a complicated wand motion. She then continued her rant.
“As if we only had this one case. I know it’s been going on for months, but we’re working on year-long projects that require extensive analyses and there’s only five of us! And I’m working with the Wizengamot on the side! How are we supposed--”
Pansy tuned her out, only humming agreeingly when it was expected of her. When they were passing Alver’s office, she held her head high, ignoring his whistle. They dodged the memos on their way out, and only when they were halfway across the department did Granger finally fall silent.
“You know, Granger, I love when you get all worked up, it’s really hot, but it’s starting to be very repetitive. Research this, Potter that, not enough people, blah blah blah. There’s so much tension in you. You need to find an outlet for it,” Pansy said, her tone suggestive. But she didn’t dare to look at the woman walking beside her. Her confidence had its boundaries.
“Oh shut up,” Granger responded, her voice levelled.
But the energy between them shifted. Pansy could feel it.
They reached Potter’s office in silence, the only sound above the department’s low bustle being the clicking of Pansy’s heels, and Pansy watched Granger’s lean figure as the woman knocked on the door and went in without waiting for an answer.
“I’m here. Be quick.”
Pansy liked that - Granger’s dismissive, no-nonsense approach that she maintained even with the person that was technically her superior. And she liked her lean figure as well.
When the door closed behind Granger, Pansy went back to her work. She was mostly scheduling meetings, filling out daily paperwork, and assisting Head Auror Potter with whatever he needed, like fetching Granger from the labs. But over the few years, her assistant work also started overlapping with Potter’s personal life. She ran his personal calendar, knew when he was meeting with the Weasleys at the Burrow or when his bills were due. She was his right hand in everything, and despite her constant bitching and their turbulent past, she loved every bit of her job. And Potter apparently didn’t mind her, either.
Several minutes later, Granger emerged from Potter’s office, the weight of their meeting apparent in her slightly slumped shoulders. Even though the Auror Office had shrunk over the years, no longer in need of that many dark wizard hunters, there were still a number of complicated cases that needed the department’s utmost attention. The Marlow case was one of them.
And Potter, determined to capture the witch or wizard that managed to turn a few Muggleborn children’s summer into hell by cursing their Hogwarts acceptance letters, injuring them and their families and killing one of those children in the process, was at times insufferable with his persistence and his constant nagging need for progress and updates. Granger, in charge of the expert research part of the case, was just as determined. She just dealt with the heaviness of the case in a different way.
And sometimes, Pansy knew, it all dawned on her - just as it seemed at that moment.
“Chin up, Granger. Coming to the ball tomorrow? I’ll pour some champagne down your throat, we’ll dance a little, and you’ll be able to forget all about work for at least one evening.”
“You know, I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”
Pansy’s eyes widened momentarily, but before she shook off the surprise, Granger was gone.
She always brushed off Pansy’s comments, either purposefully or because she genuinely couldn’t think along the same lines as Pansy. It had been hard to tell. Up until now. It seemed that some of what Pansy was saying did indeed get through to Granger.
Pansy’s lips turned up in a small smile. She couldn’t wait to see what tomorrow was going to bring.
###
The room swam with people all dressed up in their finest robes, all mingling and chatting, grabbing a glass from a floating plate here, a miniature meat pie from a table there, laughing at each other's jokes, throwing compliments around like they were confetti. The Ministry balls were always like that, no matter the occasion. And there had been plenty of them after the war.
“Potter! Over here!” Pansy shouted when she saw Potter walk through the grand doorway, looking rather displaced as he scanned the room. He wore black fitted robes that hugged him in all the right places.
When he spotted her, he immediately strode over, managing to grab a glass of wine on his way.
“You look like a snack,” Pansy said with a smirk and clinked her almost empty glass with his.
“And you look very nearly inappropriate,” he said, eyeing her tight, red lacy dress that didn’t leave any of her assets and curves to imagination. “I like it.”
He sipped on his drink, mirroring her smirk.
A conveniently situated plant partly hid them from view and Potter’s shoulders relaxed as he leaned his back against the wall, taking a generous gulp of his wine. He could never be fully comfortable at public functions, even after all the years.
“Shit, look at that old bat!”
“What the-- are those peacocks?”
“Yup,” Pansy snorted, her eyes pinned to Mrs Bennett’s hat. The old widow was infamous for her ridiculous accessories and the three stuffed peacock heads, charmed to blink seductively at the onlookers, now seemed to be at the top of the list. People around stared with open mouths and Pansy didn’t blame them.
“You’d really think she’d tamp down on those things after the Kneazle incident last time,” Potter grinned. “But look - isn’t that the young Carlton boy? Already trying his charm on poor unsuspecting women.”
“Well, a troll would be more successful in charming them,” Pansy smirked and leaned her arm on Potter’s shoulder, which gave her a better view of the entrance.
They stood like that for a bit, criticizing everyone in sight, which was one of their favourite activities at balls, right after stuffing their mouths at the buffet and before trying out drinks with bizarre names at the bar.
“I suppose I should go greet Kingsley now. And the rest of the room,” Potter sighed and peeled himself off the wall after a while. “See you later?” he said and swapped his empty glass for a full one.
“Sure,” Pansy waved him away, her eyes already on someone else.
Granger had just entered the room, scanning the crowd uncomfortably and moving to stand stiffly by the wall, on the opposite side of the plant Pansy hid behind. Her dress was simple - high slit, teal colour, with a cowl neck and spaghetti straps. The silky material glistened in the bright lights hitting it from all directions. Her hair was down, falling in waves over her shoulders.
Pansy discarded the empty glass in her hand and grabbed a hold of two champagne flutes instead. She made her way to Granger.
“You look like you need a drink,” she said without a greeting and thrust one of the glasses in Granger’s hand.
“Huh? Hi, Pansy,” Granger startled, not expecting such an early intrusion into her quiet bubble.
Pansy chuckled. “So. The plan is simple. Drink, dance, don’t think about work. You think you can do that?”
Granger blinked before a small smile lit her face up a little. “If you insist.”
And so they went, mingling and chatting with others, grabbing a glass from a floating plate here, a miniature meat pie from a table there, laughing at each other's jokes, throwing compliments around like they were confetti. And it was brilliant.
“I’ve got to admit, Pansy,” Granger said some hours later, cheeks flushed from all the alcohol and laughter, “this was a good plan. Like the three Ds of Apparition, just better.”
She swayed on her feet and had to grab Pansy’s arm to keep herself from stumbling into a group of old Wizengamot members standing behind them.
“Why, thank you Granger. I’ll frame that compliment,” Pansy laughed, clasping Granger’s hand by her own. “I don’t get many.”
Granger’s smile diminished. “You should, though. Look where you’ve made it,” she said and squeezed Pansy’s arm in a reassuring gesture.
Their eyes met, full of understanding. They never talked much, but somehow, in that moment, they managed to say everything without a single word.
“Ladies!”
The moment was broken. Granger turned her head to the newcomer, letting go of Pansy’s arm, slipping out of her touch, and Pansy ached.
“Alver! Where have you been?” Granger greeted her colleague, a little too loud, a little too enthusiastic. A little too drunk. She swayed again, but didn’t reach for Pansy this time.
“By the bar for the past thirty minutes. You seemed busy on the dancefloor, so I didn’t want to disturb you.” His lopsided smirk seemed to be directed at Pansy. She just ignored him.
“Where’s Margaret?” Granger asked, still leaning on Pansy for support.
“The kids both got a stomach flu so she stayed home to keep an eye on them,” he explained, eyeing the pair with an amused glit in his eyes. “What have you two been up to?”
“The three Ds of fun,” Granger laughed and grabbed another flute of champagne from a plate floating by.
Alver’s brows lifted in question.
“Drink, dance, don’t think about work,” Pansy rolled her eyes, shaking her head in amusement. Granger had loosened up spectacularly.
“Well, you seem to be doing a great job of it, then,” Alver said and toasted the two women with his own glass of wine.
Granger toasted back and brought the flute to her lips, but before she could take a sip, she jumped up in alarm, spilling half the content of the glass on her dress. Her hand shot to her thigh, where her wand was tucked into a wand holster, and she fumbled for it, exposing her long legs in the process. Pansy stared.
“What is it?” Alver asked, brows furrowed, voice filled with concern.
“The C lab,” Granger squealed, panic evident in her voice. “Something triggered the alarm. I’ve gotta go.”
She finally managed to pull her wand out and turned around, frantically searching for exit in the dense sea of people.
“Granger,” Pansy put a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Calm down.”
“Should I go check on it? You’re a bit intoxicated,” Alver suggested, but Granger waved him off.
“No, no, I’ve got it, I’ve got it… Where the hell is the door?” She cried in frustration, spilling the rest of her champagne around as she tried to locate the entrance door with her panic and alcohol ridden senses.
“Alright. I’m coming with you,” Pansy announced with a groan and took the empty glass from Granger’s hand, thrusting it to a wide-eyed Alver instead. “Here. Enjoy the evening,” she said and without another word started guiding Granger through the crowd, her hand firmly clasped to the small of her back.
“You need to calm down, Granger, I’m sure it’s nothing.” Pansy led them to the Floos in the entrance hall, ignoring the beckoning shouts of their friends and colleagues, and threw a handful of Floo powder in the nearest fireplace instead.
“Ministry of Magic!” she shouted as she grabbed Granger by her hip and stepped with her into the Floo.
“Oh my god,” Granger coughed as they arrived in the deserted, dimly lit Atrium. There was ash in her hair and Pansy reached out to brush it off, but Granger bolted from the fireplace and ran to the elevators, leaving Pansy’s hand hanging in the air. She shook her head, following Granger before the woman would leave without her.
They rode to the second floor in silence. Pansy watched as Granger tapped her heel on the floor, an echoing tap tap tap of her shoe on the timeworn panels. She darted out of the elevator as soon as it arrived at the shadowy floor of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, taking off in the direction of the research laboratories, leaving Pansy no other choice but to rush behind her.
“Granger,” she tried once again to calm the woman down.
“It’s lab C. It could be something serious. The artifact there...” Granger’s voice trailed off when they reached the door to the small research department. There were two uncollected memos hitting the ward, and Granger swatted at them, almost hitting Pansy who came to stand right behind her.
“Careful,” Pansy said, “you really should have left this to Alver.” But Granger paid her no mind, barging through the door and running across to the lab entrance. She halted there, breathing heavily.
The bright light in the sterile hallway shone through the glass door, lighting up the otherwise darkened office area, casting long shadows along the walls.
“Alright,” Pansy heard her mumble along with a light sobering charm before she straightened up and entered. A shiver ran through her body when the wards hit her skin.
Pansy followed, wand drawn in case Granger needed assistance, ignoring the tingle of the wards at the nape of her neck. She squeezed her eyes to adjust to the bright light.
“Okay,” Granger said then, taking a deep breath before she aimed her wand at the door labeled with a bright blue C, unlocking it with a set of murmured spells. “Here we go.”
She pushed the door open, but didn’t step in, observing.
The room looked undisturbed. The strange artifact, safely wrapped in gleaming protective spells, hovered just above the desk, looking the same as it had when Pansy last saw it yesterday afternoon.
Granger’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”
She sent a diagnostic spell in the room, a blue light particle emerging from her wand, floating around, scanning for any disorder in the room. It returned to them a few seconds later, but instead of dissipating, it dropped to their shoes and chimed in alarm. Granger jerked back in surprise. There, on the ground beside the door, lay Granger’s white lab coat, illuminated by the spell.
“It must have fallen from the hook,” the woman gasped with relief. She cancelled the spell with a flick of her wand, hanging the coat back where it belonged. She then patted it, making sure it stayed there, and with one last look closed and locked the lab door behind her.
Then she turned around, meeting Pansy just inches from her face.
“See? I told you, Granger. It was nothing.”
Granger blinked. “Yeah.”
Her warm breath hit Pansy’s face, and Pansy took a small step forward. Granger backed away.
“It’s the alcohol. You blew it out of proportion.” Pansy moved towards her again.
“Yeah.” When Granger tried to take another step back, her back hit the lab door with a thud. “I think I should go home,” she whispered.
“Good idea. You’re tense again, we should do something about that,” Pansy said, a smirk forming on her lips. She reached out, finally brushing away the ash from Granger’s hair. She then turned around, making her way towards the exit. “You coming?”
She took a quick look back at Granger, who still stood glued to the door, cheeks flushed. Her chest rose and fell with erratic breaths. She blinked a few times and then shuffled forward, following Pansy out of the department. “Yeah.”
They returned back to the Atrium in charged silence. Granger kept her head down, her eyes fixed on her shoes.
“Shall we?” Pansy asked her when they stood in front of the ministry Floo, the flames already bright green. She reached for Granger’s hand, and before Granger could protest, Pansy pulled her into the fireplace, calling Granger’s address, wrapping her arm around Granger’s back to keep them close through the ride.
“So.”
“So,” Pansy smirked as Granger slipped away from her arms the second they stepped out of the Floo. She stumbled through the dark to turn on the lights, patting around the side table to locate the switch. A soft crash indicated that she knocked something over.
“Do you need help?” Pansy asked, amused.
“No, no… It’s--” Click. Soft yellow light flooded the room. “--fine. Do you want anything to drink?” She righted the fallen photo frame. It looked like a picture of her, Potter, and Weasley, back from their school days.
“Not really.”
“Oh, okay,” Granger sighed, her eyes avoiding Pansy. She flicked her wand towards the radio by the window, and a second later they could hear low tones of music from some late night show.
“Granger?”
“Yeah.”
“Come here.”
The woman took a reluctant step forward. “Why?”
“I hope you know,” Pansy smiled.
Granger slipped off her heels and softly kicked them to the side. Pansy mirrored her, pursing her lips in a fond smirk.
When Granger stood right before her, Pansy reached out. Touched her shoulder. Slid her hand down Granger’s arm to grasp the woman’s hand in her own.
Granger’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.
“Pansy,” she breathed and her eyes fluttered closed.
Pansy fought the ache that urged her to move forward. She didn’t want to rush it. She gave Granger’s hand a light squeeze instead.
“Granger, look at me.”
When the woman’s eyes met hers again, irises only a thin, golden aura around pupils dilated in the soft lamplight, Pansy smiled at her.
“Stop me if you don’t want any of this,” she said.
And then she pressed her lips to hers, breathing in the scent of Granger’s fruity perfume. Before Granger could react, Pansy pulled away by an inch. Just enough to look into Granger’s widened eyes.
“That okay?” she almost whispered, lips tingling. The radio tune drowned in the sound of her own heartbeat.
“Uhuh,” Granger replied, voice strained. She blinked.
“You sure?”
“Uhuh.”
“Alright,” Pansy said, lips lifting in a smile, before she let go of Granger’s hand. She cupped her cheek instead, thumb resting lightly next to her ear, kissing her again, and again, until Granger could do nothing but cooperate, working her lips against her in a careful motion. Pansy licked and tasted the traces of champagne, a reminder of the evening spent together at the ball, and smiled into the kiss as her other hand slid to Granger’s bum, pulling her closer.
Pansy could feel Granger’s hands ghosting over her hips, unsure where to place them, while Pansy really didn’t mind being touched anywhere. She squeezed Granger’s perfect bum to encourage her and maybe also just because the round muscles under Pansy’s hand begged for it by their sheer existence, and Granger moaned, grabbing Pansy’s hips and flushing them even closer together.
And then she froze.
“Wait,” she whispered, pulling Pansy’s hands away from her body. Pulling away from Pansy. Her eyes glistened in the lamp light and she blinked slowly, as if waking up from a long sleep. “What is this?”
Pansy ached, her whole body on fire, already missing Granger’s closeness. But she promised her she would stop whenever Granger wanted. And the stakes were too high.
She took a deep, steadying breath, producing a smirk on her lips.
“I think it’s called foreplay. I also think we should move to your bedroom. Soon.”
“No no no,” Granger shook her head and the waves of her hair swayed from side to side. “What are you doing, Pansy?”
Pansy’s smirk wavered and her eyes fell to Granger’s swollen lips. What was she doing? Acting on her attraction? On her feelings? Was this supposed to end in the bedroom or did she expect more?
“I-- I’m not sure?” she said and scratched the side of her arm, suddenly feeling exposed. Vulnerable.
“Then why? We work toget--”
“I like you,” Pansy blurted out, and it was in that moment that she felt the effects of all the wine and champagne slowly dissipating, leaving her in the situation without the added element of drunken carelessness.
Granger blinked. “You like me?”
Pansy nodded. Her cheeks burned red. Her lips tingled, craving Granger.
Granger’s eyes were wide. “But how did that-- You just-- I never--”
She started pacing, but only managed to make a few steps before she tripped on her discarded heels and stumbled, yelping oof in surprise while trying to stay on her legs. Pansy jumped forward, catching her hand, steadying her.
“Careful,” she said, and her hand lingered, smoothing a thumb over Granger’s knuckles.
Granger caught Pansy’s wrist just as she was about to step away, pulling her softly back. “Wait.”
There was a long moment of charged silence.
“I-- I like you too, you know,” Granger said, her voice low. Eyes fixed somewhere on the floor. “Who you’ve become.”
Pansy sensed a but coming.
“But don’t you think this is going too fast? I mean… I’ve never thought about you like that before. Not until now.”
“I have. I do. All the time.”
The truth of it left Pansy suddenly breathless.
“Oh,” Granger said and then her eyes finally met Pansy’s. She let go of her wrist. Cupped her cheek instead. “I’m still a little tipsy, you know. Let’s-- let’s explore it.”
Pansy blinked. Once. Twice.
Granger rushed to reassure her, “Only if you’re okay wit--” and Pansy crashed their mouths together.
She walked them to the nearest wall to gain some support, with her hands all over Granger’s body, touching, stroking, squeezing. Granger hesitated, just for a second, and then her hand slid into Pansy’s hair, her other one to Pansy’s back.
Pansy moved her attention to Granger’s neck, licking, sucking. When Pansy sucked on the spot right under her ear where the jaw meets the neck, Granger moaned, pressed herself closer to Pansy. She didn’t freeze this time, and Pansy’s heart jumped in her chest.
This is really happening.
Heat pooled in her groin and she crashed her lips to Granger’s again.
“Which way to the bedroom?” Pansy asked between kisses, all breathy, and Granger moaned, leaning away from the wall, breaking their kiss. She caught Pansy’s hand and tugged her through the door, through a dark hallway, and into her moonlit bedroom.
With a wandless spell, Granger turned on the lamp on the bedside table, not bothering to pull the switch this time.
“Now what,” she said. She faced Pansy, her legs touching the back of the bed, her eyes full of uncertainty.
“Now get rid of the dress, darling. It’s soaked in champagne anyway,” Pansy smirked, and watched as Granger nodded, unfastening her wand holster and slipping out of the dress in a relatively swift motion, considering her previous clumsiness. The teal dress pooled around her ankles.
Pansy stared. She could feel the wetness in her underwear, sparkles of excitement running through her whole body. Granger’s perked up nipples called to her. The white knickers contrasted with her tan complexion beautifully.
“Aren’t you goging to undress, too?” Granger asked, her voice small. She crossed her arms over her chest, rounding her back to hide her breasts from the open view. Her gaze darted away.
Pansy smiled.
When she finally tossed her dress to the side, she found herself facing Granger’s back. She slid right behind her.
“I’m here,” she whispered into Granger’s ear.
The woman shivered.
Pansy could hear her shallow breaths, could feel the nervosity practically radiating off of her. She put her hands on her shoulders, a steadying touch, before she slid them down her arms to uncross them and let them fall down Granger’s side.
“That’s better,” Pansy said and laid a kiss on Granger’s neck, her hands roaming Granger’s body again, never quite ligering in one place too long, teasing and exploring.
And Granger leaned into her, sighing.
Encouraged by Granger’s reactions, Pansy slid one of her hands between her legs.
###
The first thing Pansy saw when she woke up the morning after was Granger’s hair, strewn around her head on the pillow like a halo. She propped herself up on her elbow, only to see that Granger’s eyes were already open, staring wildly into the ceiling. She was clutching onto the duvet, her knuckles almost white, and when Pansy let out a small laugh, Granger startled and jerked away.
“Someone’s jumpy today,” Pansy said, amused. “Regretful?”
Granger squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before answering. “I don’t know,” said then and rolled over, facing away from Pansy.
Pansy slumped and stopped herself from reaching after her. Fuck. She’ll just give her some space and never speak of it again, then.
“I’ll go.” She sat up, searching for her clothes. She found it in a pile on the ground where she had unceremoniously chucked it last night. With Granger’s back turned to her, Pansy simply slipped out of bed and back into her dress, trying to ignore the sharp contrast between how victorious it had felt undressing yesterday and how dreary it was now. It didn’t work very well.
Once she was ready to go, she turned back to Granger, who had at some point turned over and whose eyes had already been on Pansy, her look unreadable.
Pansy sighed. She should just leave. Let Granger process it on her own. Instead she took a step closer to the bed and asked, “Are you okay?”
“A little nauseous,” Grangers said, “must be all the alcohol. Nothing a hangover potion wouldn’t fix.”
Pansy surprised herself by asking, “Should I fetch you one? Where is it?”
“Oh, I didn’t-- Well. There’s a potions cabined in the hallway. They’re all labeled.”
Pansy left for the hallway, her bare feet softly padding on the hardwood floor. Granger’s potions were indeed all labeled and organized by purpose and the severity of one’s conditions, and Pansy found the neatly stacked cabinet very much endearing. A small pang of unease resonated in her chest at the possibility that she might not get any more opportunities to get to know Granger’s quirks or to get another peak inside her freakishly organized cupboards. She clutched the hangover potion in her fist as she got back to the bedroom and then handed it to Granger who gratefully took it, gulping down its contents in one swift motion.
“Bleh,” she grimaced, and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the potion to take effect.
Pansy stood by the bed, helplessly looking for something to do. Leaving would be rude now.
Her eyes fell on Granger’s dress on the floor and she remembered how they pooled around her legs yesterday when she took them off. She bent, picked them up and folded them, laying them on a chair by the wardrobe along with Granger’s underwear.
“I can take care of myself, you know.”
Pansy turned around to find Granger watching her again, eyebrows raised, looking much less uneasy than before.
“Of course. I’m going. I’ll see you at work?” Pansy offered, but Granger rushed out of bed after her, realizing only last minute to clutch the duvet to her bare chest.
“Don’t?”
She looked unsure and her eyes fell to Pansy’s neck, where she must have left a mark last night. She quickly averted her gaze and heat rushed to her face and chest, turning them a lovely shade of pink.
“Look, we don’t have to ever talk about what happened. There was a lot of alcohol and stress from the alarm involved. Let’s just… carry on.” She had to force the words out because all she wanted to do was lay back down to bed and cuddle with Granger till late afternoon.
“But that-- I couldn’t do that,” Granger said and Pansy wanted nothing more than to smooth the newly formed crease between her brows.
“You clearly felt disturbed this morning and I don’t want to feed into that.” Speaking any more of it would be uncomfortable for both of them for two very different reasons, Pansy knew. Hers was obvious, really, and she cursed herself for ever letting Granger know about her feelings. And Granger’s turned back that morning was reason enough.
“I’d like for you to let me decide how I do or do not feel about things, thank you,” Granger said defiantly and crossed her arms across her chest.
Pansy snorted. “Okay, so how did you feel?”
“Disturbed,” Granger admitted, but rushed to continue. “But only for a while! I had to let it sink in.”
“And then?” Pansy asked, willing her eyebrows not to rise in a deceitful display of nonchalance.
Granger turned around without an answer and shuffled to the chest of drawers by the door, her bare back and arse completely on display. She searched the drawers and pulled out a few things, then handed some of them to Pansy at an awkward angle, still trying to hold the duvet to cover her front.
“Why don’t you change into something more comfortable? I’ll just take a quick shower.”
She left without waiting for a response and Pansy stared after her arse until it disappeared around the corner.
With Granger still owing her an answer and having a free day ahead of her, she changed into the yoga pants and a loose t-shirt Granger provided, freshened up with a quick charm, and wandered out of the bedroom, past the closed door to what she presumed was the bathroom by the sound of running water coming from behind it, and went into the living room.
The lamp and radio were still on, two pairs of heels strewn around the floor, and Pansy sent everything back to order with a few flicks of her wand, rolling her eyes. She wouldn’t have to bother with tidying up if Granger had a house-elf like normal people. But it was a part of Granger’s charm, Pansy thought. The determination to do everything right and justly, her drive. So charming. And hot.
Those thoughts were dangerous, and Pansy decided to get rid of them by adding to all the domesticity she’d displayed that day by finding the kitchen and brewing tea even though it was almost time for lunch. Because everything was better with a cuppa in hand.
Granger’s cupboard organization extended to the kitchen as well, and Pansy had a pot ready in no time. She startled then to find Granger standing in the doorway, watching her again. That woman was going to be the death of her.
“I would have made it,” Granger said with a hint of a smile on her lips and joined Pansy in the room. She took out two cups, pouring the steaming tea into them, then took out a carton of milk and offered it to Pansy, who took it and poured a generous amount into her own cup, adding a spoonful of sugar as well.
Granger laughed at that. “You look like a black, no sugar type of person.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Pansy said and sat down at the dining table, taking a sip and waiting for Granger to continue their conversation from earlier.
“Right.” Granger’s smile had gone when she sat across from Pansy a moment later. “I think we went about it too quickly.”
“I know. I told you we could just let it go.”
“Or we could take it slower.”
Pansy’s mouth almost fell open. “Granger…”
“Start by calling me Hermione.”
“Fine, Hermione,” Pansy said and the name rolled off her tongue like honey, leaving a sweet aftertaste and a hint of a promise behind. Granger smiled at her.
“I have noticed you flirting with me at work. I thought it was just your kind of banter, so I never put any weight to it. And I didn’t bother examining the reactions it pulled out of me.”
Pansy’s ears twitched in attention like a crup’s. “Reactions?”
Granger huffed out a laugh. “Look, I’m not immune to gorgeous women, okay?”
“It’s okay as long as those women are me,” Pansy said, teasing, looking for any unease in Granger’s expression and finding none. Her eyes roamed over her pink tinged cheeks, falling to her lips that she wet by her tongue before spreading them in a sheepish smile, and thought thank fuck she hadn’t run away.
“So what are you saying?” Pansy asked.
Granger’s eyes shot to her, searching her face for Merlin knows what before finally answering.
“I’m saying I don’t want to walk away from this.”
“Are you sure?”
Granger nodded.
Suddenly, Pansy jumped up, her eyes on the clock.
“Shit. I totally forgot. Can I use your Floo?”
Grager leaned back in her chair, visibly startled. “Are you leaving?”
“No, don’t worry,” Pansy said over her shoulder, already on her way to the living room.
“Potter!” she was calling through the Floo in seconds and wished she could send through a stinging hex to wake the tosser up. “Potter!”
Something stirred in Potter’s bed and a hand emerged, patting around the nightstand for glasses. A few moments later, Potter sat up, blinking sleepily at the fireplace.
“Whaaa…” he said and broke into a yawn, not bothering to cover his mouth, the uncultured git.
“You’ve got lunch with Andromeda today, I forgot to remind you yesterday.”
The surprised look on Potter’s face indicated that he had no idea. Pansy saved his arse again, of course.
“Yes, and you need to be there at twelve o’clock sharp.”
Potter glanced at the clock on his wall that read 11:43. He groaned.
“And,” Pansy added, “Draco will be there.”
Potter’s eyes widened and he sprung out of bed and ran to the bathroom like his life depended on it. Pansy smirked and pulled her head out of the Floo.
“Idiot,” she murmured and stood up, turning around. “Fuck! Granger, you need to stop this. Announce yourself next time, would you? You’re going to give me a heart attack.”
“Hermione. And sorry,” Granger chuckled and peeled herself off the doorway. “Was that Harry?”
Pansy nodded and dusted herself off.
“You’re really keeping his life together, do you know that?”
“He’d be so lost without me,” Pansy smirked and then her stomach growled awkwardly.
“Come on,” Granger gestured at her and headed to the kitchen. “I’ll make us some brunch.”
Pansy gratefully followed, letting hope spread through every inch of her being. Maybe this was going to turn out well after all.
###
”Hey, Pans, were you at Hermione’s yesterday?”
“What? Why?” Pansy asked, brows furrowing in suspicion. Did Granger talk to him already?
“Well I have a tune set for when she firecalls and I thought I heard it yesterday morning when you woke me up,” Potter said and Pansy cursed him and his Auror instincts in her head.
She busied herself preparing tea, bumping into Potter in the tiny departmental kitchen on her way to the fridge.
“Yeah, I stayed the night.”
“Oh, cool.”
Potter didn’t say anything else and left shortly after with a cuppa in hand, most likely oblivious, and then the one person she didn’t want to see turned up in his place.
“So you’ve stayed the night with the boss?”
“She’s your boss, Alver. Is eavesdropping a common practice in Denmark?”
Alver grinned shamelessly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mind your own business,” Pansy snapped, but a smile tugged at her lips. She levitated the two cups she made and walked past Alver into the hallway, her heels clicking on the hard floor.
“Here,” she handed Granger one of the cups and the three memos she collected at the door, and slid on Granger’s desk.
“You’re brilliant,” Granger smiled gratefully and Pansy’s heart fluttered in her chest.
“Oh, I know,” she said, pursing her lips in amusement.
They sipped their tea for a while.
“I’ve got to run before Potter manages to make a mess of the office,” Pansy got up eventually.
“Yes, go save the saviour,” Granger grinned and stood up as well, her eyes falling to Pansy’s lips before they flicked back up again. Her cheeks turned pink.
Pansy smirked and reached out with her hand. Granger took it and stepped closer, her eyes shyly on the ground.
Pansy laid a soft kiss on her lips.
“I’ll see you later,” she whispered and then pointedly ignored Alver’s whistle on her way back. She’s going to have to find something on him in return.