Mafalda Weasley, SLYTHERIN!

I hope this doesn't horrify anyone who friended me looking for fluffy het. Or maybe I do...

2005-06-09T03:51:15Z

Title: Every Good Boy Does Fine
Author: Marvolo
Pairing: Lupin/Harry/Sirius
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Kinks: chan (age thirteenish), threesome, cross-gen.
Summary: Sirius and Remus teach Harry how to wank. And that leads to everything else.
Notes: This is total smut. I have started writing fics that do nothing but arouse me, so don't expect any of that logic crap to figure in. This is theoretically sometime shortly after the events of PoA - so it's an alternate universe of sorts. Much thanks to Aspen for the beta read! *_*

"See, the thing is, it's all in the grip," Sirius said, wrapping his hand around the base of his own cock. "Not too firm, but not so limp that you're teasing yourself."

"Like holding a quill," Lupin supplied. "That kind of grip."

Harry licked his lips nervously, glancing back and forth between the two. He was painfully, embarrassingly hard, even though he knew that he shouldn't be. This was so wrong. His shorts and trousers were pushed down around his ankles, leaving him feeling far more nervous and dirty than he might otherwise. Despite the favorable June weather that day, his skin was covered with goosebumps, and he couldn't keep from shivering.

"Go on, then," Sirius said eagerly, breaking into Harry's thoughts. "Just give it a try."

Tentatively and somewhat awkwardly, Harry slid his own hand down, grasping the pink, harsh-looking length of his cock in what he hoped was an assertive way. His breath hitched at the sudden sensation, and he let his eyes shut. That felt more natural.

"Now move your hand up a little, until you near the tip," said Lupin. "Then slide it back down."

Harry felt heat rising in his cheeks as he followed his old professor's instructions, trying to pretend he was alone. It wasn't working.

"Is that good, Harry?" Sirius's voice was husky, though not quite low enough for a whisper. "Does that feel good?"

"Y-yes," gasped Harry, unable to stop his hips from arching at the sensation. Warm, tingling pleasure pulsed down his legs and up his chest. It was embarrassing and bad and yet very good, like eating sugar right out of the sack. His thin hand swiftly jerked his cock again, and he whimpered.

"Easy now," murmured Remus, shifting in his armchair. "You've got to have a little restraint. You don’t want to come too quick."

Harry blushed even harder at this, forcing his hand to still, even though the pressure of it on his cock was pleasure in and of itself. He looked up at them from under his eyelashes, rather uncertainly.

Sirius gripped his own cock again, sliding his hand up to the head and then back down, with an easy flick of the wrist. "Like this," he said, shutting his eyes a little. "Nice and easy."

Nibbling on his lower lip, Harry tried to study his godfather’s technique objectively.

Sirius heaved a sigh, getting to his feet and coming to kneel in front of Harry. "Here," he said impatiently, batting the boy’s hand away from his cock and taking a hold of it firmly. Harry swallowed nervously, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as Sirius stroked him with that same steady motion he had used on himself—nice and easy. Nice and easy.

"Oh god," whispered Harry, feeling his entire body clench up. "Don't-- I mean, that's too--"

"Yes, Harry?" he said, squeezing his hand a little.

Harry jerked at the sensation, the feeling of someone deliberately trying to make his blood boil in that horrible and good sort of way, his voice hitching up into a near-sob. "I don't know."

Sirius's mouth rose at one corner and his tongue darted out, swiping across the tip of Harry's cock. "Do you like that?" he asked.

Harry's eyes squeezed tightly shut, and his hands clenched in desperation. He didn't know if his godfather wanted a reply, but he choked one out anyway. "Y-yes, oh god, v-very much, yes."

"That's it, Harry," he murmured, tracing the curve of one knee with his fingers, and sliding his mouth down to touch, warm and wet, against the base of Harry's cock. His tongue darted out, grazing against his balls, and Harry gasped at that, shuddering and squirming. Sirius chuckled, and turned to look up at Lupin, who was staring at them as though in awe, his hand stroking his own cock slowly but firmly.

"Come over here, Remus. You have a very attentive student."

Harry let his head loll to the back of the couch, trying to catch his breath and make the room stop spinning the way it was. He didn't think he could get any harder than he was at that moment, with Sirius licking at his cock and Professor Lupin settling next to him, his own cock huge and reddish even as he pushed Harry's hair out of his eyes with a fatherly touch, inadvertently revealing his scar.

"Do you--" Harry breathed hard through his mouth, looking over at Lupin's cock and avoiding his eyes, his fingers twitching in the direction of his gaze. "D'you want me to touch it?"

"Do you want to touch it?" Lupin asked.

Harry finally met his gaze, studying his face - steady and somewhat handsome, even under the silvery scars of his own, with greying hair falling across his forehead. His thin lips curled into a sort of smile, and Harry nodded slowly, glancing back down. His hand crept across the thick tapestry material of the couch, and gently, nervously wrapped around the thick -- so much thicker than his own -- shaft.

Lupin's breath caught in his chest, and Harry squeezed his hand a little, marveling at the power he could sense in his professor's cock. It was longer than even Sirius's, and a dark rosy color, crisscrossed with veins. His heartbeats sped up as he clumsily pumped it, the knowledge that he could pleasure someone in the same strange way Sirius was doing him making him feel shaky.

"Yes, Harry," Lupin hissed, nodding as Harry slipped his hand up and down the length, the skin moving easily in his hand. "God-- Sirius, don't finish him off too quickly."

Harry glanced back down at Sirius, who was still tonguing the tip of his cock, and shut his eyes for a moment, trying to process that image, before turning his attention back to Lupin’s cock. A droplet of precome oozed out the tip as he stroked, and it seemed to swell in his hand, even more than it already was. Harry’s mouth dropped open a little as Sirius slid his tongue against the underside of his cock, and his fingers tightened on Lupin’s.

"Can I – suck you?"

Sirius made a noise at that, against and around Harry, and he bit down on his lower lip to try to get a hold of himself, to not come.

Lupin looked up at him sharply, his open mouth glistening a little as he stared. "Yes," he finally said, faintly, and Sirius slid back, letting Harry get up and move in front of Lupin.

His professor’s cock looked huge from that angle, long and thick and sticky in his hand. He licked his lips nervously, and touched his tongue to the tip. He could taste salt — salt and something else, and it made him even harder than he was, the smell and the taste and the silky texture making his hands shake even as he tried to have a steady grip.

Sirius reached over and brushed his hand across Harry’s cock again, and Harry shut his eyes and slid his mouth down over the top of Lupin’s, sucking on the smooth, rounded head. He swirled his tongue across the tip, gagging a little but forcing more into his mouth as he tasted more precome leaking out.

"Yes, Harry," hissed Lupin, sliding his hand to the back of his head, gripping his messy black hair. "Suck it like that, just like that."

Harry bobbed his head over the cock, slurping and sputtering his way down half of it. It stretched his jaw almost to the point of pain, but he wanted it, he realized with some awe; the choppy, desperate need welling inside of him made him truly wish to suck on something.

Lupin arched his hips without even seeming to realize it, forcing more into Harry’s mouth, his breath coming in gasps as the boy inexpertly worked his mouth around him, slobbery and artless but terribly dedicated. "Fuck," he managed. "Oh, fuck, Harry."

Sirius slid his hands along the smooth expanse of Harry’s back, down to the roundness of his arse, caressing and groping his pale skin. His fingers lingered there, following the smoothness of that curve, and when Lupin blinked open his eyes, he met Sirius’s glance and knew immediately what he was thinking.

"S-stop, Harry," he gasped, "you’re going to make me come."

Harry pulled up awkwardly, shoving his glasses up his nose, and clambering up to sit on the couch again, one hand touching the spot on his jaw where there was a dull ache. Both men stared at him for a moment, as though deep in thought.

"Should we?" Lupin panted.

Sirius licked his lips, his fingers twitching on his own cock lightly. He looked over at Harry for a minute. "I don't know, do you think-- I mean, is that--" he looked back at Remus, the usual voice of reason who looked entirely as out of his wits with lust as Harry and Sirius himself, "Right?"

"I think we've gone well enough beyond that now," Lupin breathed, reaching over and stroking Harry's aching cock again, and then pressing his mouth to the boy's. Harry made a startled sound, but opened his mouth after a moment, letting his eyes flutter shut slowly and his hand touch Lupin's jaw.

Sirius groaned, low and deep in his chest, and breathed noisily, as though desperately trying to keep his composure. "Fuck, fuck, I don't care then. Yes. Holy hell."

Lupin pulled back from Harry a little, looking down into his large eyes, and then kissed him again, leaning back on the couch so that his head rested against one arm, and bringing Harry over him. Harry eagerly shoved his tongue into his professor's mouth this time, his cock caught warm and tight between their abdomens as he lay down on his chest. Remus let him be as messily demanding and awkward with the kiss as he wished, and placed his hands on the backs of Harry's thighs, pulling them apart.

The couch sank a little as Sirius sat on the end, and Lupin pulled Harry even closer to him, wrapping one arm around his neck to hold him into the kiss, so that when Sirius slipped his hand into the cleft of Harry’s arse, he found that he was stuck there.

"Wbbmt!" he exclaimed into Lupin’s mouth, squirming as Sirius’s fingers deftly held his arse-cheeks apart, stroking his opening carefully, lightly. Harry squirmed as if to move, but found that it only created friction against his desperately hard cock, trapped between his body as his instructor’s.

"There, there, Harry," Sirius said earnestly, eagerly. "It’s all right, just relax. This will be good… this will be so good."

Lupin released him a little, letting Harry pull his head back far enough to look warily down at Lupin’s face.

"W-what are you doing?" he asked, rocking his hips just a little to slide his erection against Lupin’s skin.

"He’s going to touch you, Harry," Lupin said, arching up so as to aid to the friction. "He might even fuck you. Do you want to lose your virginity?"

Harry blushed, and Sirius eased the tip of a finger into him. "Well, yes— I mean—"

"That’s it, Harry," Lupin whispered, and kissed him again, letting Harry moan into his mouth as Sirius worked his way up to his second knuckle.

Sirius chewed on his lower lip as Harry’s sphincter clenched and unclenched around his finger, gently pushing up and down as he entered, trying to stretch the ring. The boy was deliciously tight, so much so that he nearly lost his load just feeling it around his finger – he groaned along with Harry when his finger was all the way in, curling it just a bit in that smooth warmth. He slid it back and forth, letting the squirming youth get used to the sensation of movement inside his arse, and then carefully, gently added another finger.

"God," Harry gasped, twitching at the strange feeling of invasion. Lupin still held him close, and no matter where he shifted, there was that constant, steady feeling of being filled, having his arse toyed with. He whimpered, ashamed and thrilled by the way it made his cock even harder, the sensations – stinging and delicious – of being violated making him feel dizzy and desperate and longing to touch his professor’s cock again, to feel the weight and strength of that filling his mouth. He shifted abruptly, making a strangled sound.

"Please—I want to suck you," he gasped, as Sirius hit a sensitive spot inside of him.

"Leave that to me," said Sirius, easing his fingers out. He leaned down and touched his tongue to the reddened pucker he had been fingering, licking delicately at the aching skin. His mouth moved lower, closing over and bobbing on the tip of Lupin’s cock, and then slid down to Harry’s balls again. He slid his tongue back and forth over the two bumps, tonguing them so faintly and so wetly that it nearly tickled.

"Oh," whispered Harry.

"That good?" asked Sirius, sucking one of the boy's small testicles into his mouth. Harry whimpered again, and Sirius straightened a little, giving his arsehole another lick on the way.

He spread his knees between Lupin's, and stroked his own cock slowly, letting himself savor the moment - the anticipation - before sliding the head between Harry's arse-cheeks. The boy gasped at this, scrambling to try to look over his shoulder, and making a squeaking noise as he realized Lupin wouldn't let him. Sirius breathed deeply as he pressed the tip of his cock into the tight, unrelenting opening of the boy's hole, holding his hips steady as he wedged himself in.

Harry cried out in pain, resting his head against Lupin's chest, and trying again to twist into a more comfortable position. "That's it, Harry," Lupin muttered, his gaze fixed over Harry's shoulder. He moved his hands to hold Harry's arse-cheeks apart for Sirius. "Just like that. You're making your godfather very happy."

Sirius grunted as he slid in another inch. "Are you--" his breath heaved, "--all right, Harry?"

"Ugn," Harry responded through bitten lips. "Y-yes."

Sirius shut his eyes against the throbbing, warm feeling of being inside Harry's body, leaning forward to ease in further, and then - placing his hands on Harry's back - putting his weight into it, sliding all the way in. Harry made a choked noise, but was still as Sirius moved back and for in fractions, savoring the sensations. When Harry didn’t complain, he made his strokes longer, lazy and slow and deep.

He looked down, watching his cock thrust in and out of the small boy's arse, moving powerfully into his frail form. "Yes," he whispered, rolling his hips. "Yes, you look so good like this. So naughty, spread out in front of me." He thrust again. "Are you still hard, Harry?"

Harry, still trying to catch his breath, made a noise in the affirmative.

"So you like this, then? You like being fucked, Harry?"

"Yes," he managed, arching himself a little and letting Sirius in deeper. "I like being fucked. I feel..." he shuddered. "I feel so full."

"Yes," Sirius rasped, reaching down and wrapping his hand around Lupin's cock. "You are full, Harry."

"Come here," said Lupin hoarsely, and Sirius slid in even further, stretching out on top of Harry. Harry kept his face turned towards the back of the couch, gasping for breath and whimpering at the pain of being so full and the pleasure of the pressure on his cock. Lupin stroked his head even as Sirius thrust in again and pressed his lips to Remus's, nibbling on his lower lip.

"Don't stop," Harry gasped, when Sirius was still for a moment, and that caused both men to laugh.

"Of course not," said Lupin, pulling Harry up to kiss him. He licked the boy’s open, panting mouth lewdly, his tongue running over Harry’s wet teeth as he breathed with him.

Sirius rolled his hips again, thrusting hard and quick into Harry a few more times, and then eased back, slowly sliding all the way out.

"What—?" started Harry, but then Sirius pulled his hips down a little, and suddenly Lupin’s cock was pressing against his hole. Harry made a faint, desperate noise and straightened upright – Lupin, arching his hips impatiently, let him – and Sirius guided him down onto his professor’s cock.

Harry’s eyelids fell shut with the sensation of being entered again, this time by an even larger prick. His arsehole stretched, easier now than before but still a little painful, until the rounded head popped in. He eased himself down an inch or so, and Lupin groaned, tensing as though trying to restrain himself from thrusting upwards. Lupin put a steadying hand on Harry’s thigh as he clenched his teeth and sank down the rest of the way, so Lupin was completely inside of him.

Neither could speak for a moment, so Sirius pressed his lips to Harry’s neck and slipped his hand around to wrap around Harry’s cock, causing the boy’s body to shudder violently. Sirius’s lips were against his ear when he whispered, "He’s good, isn’t he?"

"Oh - yes," answered Harry, his eyebrows knitting together as Sirius continued to stroke his thin cock and Lupin pulsed inside of him. "Oh, Professor—" He lifted himself up off of Remus’s cock, and then pushed back down, fucking himself with halting but desperate strokes. Lupin’s hands gripped Harry’s legs so hard that his knuckles whitened. His usually pale cheeks had flushed a deep red color, causing his scars and the purplish circles around his eyes to barely be noticable.

Harry clenched his arse around Lupin’s cock, somehow knowing that would be a good thing to do, and Remus groaned through clenched teeth, arching so that he could fuck up into his arse.

"Fuck, Harry," he whispered, his brow shining with sweat. "You’re too good at this."

The boy blushed even more, and Lupin took a deep breath. "Get up, Harry."

Harry gave him a puzzled expression, but he eased up off his cock, letting Remus climb off the couch.

"Put your hands on the back," he said breathlessly, as he straightened. "Yes, that’s it, spread out a little." He nudged Harry’s legs apart so that the boy’s cheeks were spread as he leaned over the couch, and swallowed thickly. Meeting Sirius’s gaze, he nodded his head at Harry. "Go ahead."

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked, hedging closer.

"I want him last," answered Remus, sitting on the couch and leaning under Harry, grasping his still-hard prick.

Sirius shut his eyes as he slipped into Harry for the second time. He was much looser now, slick from precome and aching for it. He was too wet for slow, languorous strokes, so Sirius fucked him hard. His balls slapped against Harry’s own small ones as he slid deep into him, making a favorable smacking sound.

"Say it, Harry," Sirius grunted, one steadying hand on the boy’s hip as he drove into him.

Harry, red-cheeked and sputtering from Lupin’s mouth on his cock, spat his reply out among gasps, voice rising on the end. "I—oh – like – to be – fucked!"

Sirius clenched his eyes shut, his mouth falling open as he neared the edge, drilling Harry’s arse even harder, and then—coming, hard and hot into him. A high-pitched whimper from Harry told him that he felt it too, and he twitched around Sirius, milking the last of his seed.

Remus released Harry’s cock – he moaned in protest – and stood, as Sirius pulled out and staggered back to his armchair.

"Harry," he murmured, gripping an arse-cheek with one hand.

"Do it, Professor," Harry gasped, spreading his legs even further apart.

Remus bit his lower lip as he thrust in, quick and deep, and stayed there for a moment, holding himself as far in as he could get, and then let himself slide out again.

"Yes—Harry—" he said, reaching up and pulling the boy into a standing position, gripping him around the waist and letting him lean back against him.

Harry whimpered, his back grinding against the slightly rough, hairy, and terribly warm expanse of Lupin’s chest. He had to hitch up on tip-toe to be at the right level for his thrusts, and Remus held him there, balancing. His arse had been fucked so much that it was sore, stretched and abused, but this felt too right to stop—he groaned along with Lupin as he thrust, feeling the man’s voice rumble deep in his chest.

"Fuck, Harry, dear Harry, I’m going to come—"

Lupin tensed as he did, and Harry could feel the wetness, even with the rest – for Sirius’s load was threatening to trickle down his legs anyway – that sudden burst of heat.

After a moment, Lupin nudged him forward, and Harry collapsed onto the couch. His little cock was positively tortured from desire to come, and he looked over at the two men expectantly. Lupin collapsed back into his armchair, trying to catch his breath; Sirius was sitting in his, staring into space rather dazedly.

"Well?" Harry finally said, impatiently, touching his cock.

Lupin looked over at Sirius, who grinned at him, and then at Harry. He gestured at the boy’s erection and the hand lingering on it, and quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why don’t you show us what you’ve learned."

-fin.

Well then! Here goes nothing.

2005-05-27T10:35:35Z

Title: Don't Let It Go to Your Head
Author: Marvolo
Pairing: Draco/Pansy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Spanking, teen/teen sex.
Summary: The summer between fifth and sixth years, a raucous fight, and a rather satisfactory resolution.
Notes/Etc.: Aspen totally made this fic happen, to the extent that I owe her one of my vital organs. Seriously.

"I knew it," he said smugly, folding his arms and leaning in the doorway.

Pansy sized up his reflection before turning to face him. Draco was wearing his uniform, too: black slacks, grey vest, white shirt. "Knew what?"

"That you'd be trying it on." He sauntered into her bedroom, flopping back onto the bed, and then waved a hand at her. "Preening in front of the mirror."

"I wasn't preening," she said sourly. "I was checking to make sure nothing needed to be altered."

"No," he corrected, gazing at her chest, "you were admiring your badge. Didn't think you'd be getting it again, did you? I certainly didn't. Not after that terrible abuse of power last year." He paused thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose it would be difficult for Dumbledore to scrape up another competent female in our house, anyway. Don't let it go to your head."

She rolled her eyes, her voice terse and testy. "Abuse of power?"

He stretched out on the pistachio-colored duvet, obviously making himself comfortable. "Well, you know, there was that incident with the party in the prefects' bathroom. I hear Cedric Diggory suffered permanent back injuries after that three-way with goulish hookers. Or wait," he paused, knitting his eyebrows together, "he's dead, isn't he? Maybe it was Ernie MacMillan, then."

Emitting a muffled scream, Pansy snatched a ceramic ballerina figurine from the nearby bookcase and chucked it at his head. "You are really the limit, Draco Malfoy. First you tell me that you fucked Tracey Davis when we broke up for week, someone who is not only supposed to be one of my friends, but is such a class-one strumpet that she makes wallpaper peel as she walks by, and now you want to criticize my abilities to function as a prefect? Or whatever it is you're doing?" She lobbed a hard-cover edition of Westpoint Wands at him with another shriek.

He ducked out of the way of figurine, letting it crash to the floor, and jumped off the bed. The book, however, hit him square in the chest. "Holy Grindelwald," he wheezed, sitting on the edge of the bed and clutching his chest. "You are absolutely insane, Pansy. You're trying to kill me."

"Believe me," she snapped, "I could think of much more effective ways of doing that."

"I never said that I fucked Tracey," he glowered, rubbing his chest gingerly. "And I only brought it up because you wouldn't shut up about Zabini and how much you just adore his company and giving him haircuts and buying him fucking Ice Mice. What's a proper witch like you giving a freak like Zabini haircuts for ANYWAY?"

"It is entirely my business who I associate with. And besides, Blaise isn't trying to get into my skirt, which is more than I can say for the likes of Tracey Davis! That girl would hit on a hamburger if she thought she had a chance with it!"

"Oh, RIGHT, like that dopey little helpless act Zabini puts on isn't entirely constructed so he can peek down your blouse when you're leaning over him and cutting off all his greasy hair!" Wounds forgotten, Draco rose to his feet, and advanced on her with a predatory stride.

Pansy placed her hands on her hips, even while taking two strides backwards. "I suppose that's exactly the sort of thing you would know all about, isn't it? You just can't comprehend someone not being a lecherous, overly-hormonal scumbag because that's precisely what you are."

"WHAT? That's a fine thing for a slut like you to say!" He stepped closer, causing her to bump back against the broad wooden desk that hugged the wall.

"What? What did you just call me?" she sputtered with rage.

"A slut, Pansy! A dirty little slut." He stood so close to her that she could feel his breath on her face as he bit the words off. "I've no choice but to believe you like Zabini staring at your tits."

She stared up at him, her chin quivering with anger and her hands itching to slap the indifferent look off his face. "That is absolutely revolting, Draco. Blaise understands me, we're friends. He cares a hell of a lot more about me than you ever have. And he doesn't abandon me to go FUCK ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS." Pansy planted her palms at his chest and shoved him with all the strength she could muster, savagely hoping that the book had left a bruise and that she was pressing on it.

Draco let her push him away, retreating back to a cordial distance, although his voice grew even more snide, as he girlishly emphasized the same words she had. "Oh, you're friends, are you? I suppose Zabini innately understands how to get you off, then."

Pansy scoffed. "I'm sure pretty much anyone could figure that out better than YOU ever did, Draco. I'm so delighted to hear that you equate friendship with sexual favors, that REALLY sheds some light on a few things."

"I didn't fuck Tracey Davis!" He threw his hands in the air as though truly exasperated. "I was invited to dinner! How does that constitute fucking, Pansy, really! If I'd have bought her Ice Mice I suppose you'd think we were engaged!"

Pansy stared at him evenly, eyes narrowing just a fraction. She was quiet long enough that he wondered if their argument was finally over with, and then she leaned forward a little, gripping the edge of the desk and speaking in a slow, even voice. "Well, that's rather unfortunate for you, because I did fuck Blaise. Twice."

Draco said nothing, narrowing his eyes to slits as he peered at her. "You're lying," he finally said.

Pansy snorted. "What, you think he's too far out of my league? You were certainly willing to believe it a moment ago." She leaned back, folding her arms over her chest. "He and I get along better than you and I do."

He stared at her, as though unsure whether or not she was serious. "When?"

She smiled. "Oh, it was around spring, I guess. We were astronomy partners, remember? We had all of that late-night homework making star charts and sharing a telescope. One thing just led to another." She paused, gazing over at him from under her eyelashes. "It hasn't happened since."

An unnatural, violent red color spread through Draco's cheeks, and his hands, hanging at his sides, flexed into half-fists, as though he were intending to strike her. Pansy sucked her lower lip between her teeth, suddenly nervous, but he didn't move. He just stared at her for a few moments, and then folded his lanky arms, leaned against the bedpost, and averted his gaze to the floor.

Minutes ticked by, each more unsettling and tense than the last. The room, at the east side of the house, was picking up on the brunt of the afternoon sunshine, and was slowly growing stifling.

"I--" Pansy began.

"Shut up," he snapped, not bothering to look up. She swallowed thickly, and studied his form. He looked in many ways how he always did when he was upset - like a petulant six-year-old sulking over not getting a rocking hippogryff. But there was an edge to his sullenness she hadn't seen before, an almost violent quality. He truly seemed wrathful.

"That's rather horrible," he finally said. "Are you sorry?"

A dark line formed between her eyebrows. "Are you--"

"That's different," he interrupted cooly. "I was with Tracey when we were split up, for however long. You cheated on me."

She looked away from his steady, piercing gaze, and absently tapped the toe of her shoe against the floor. "Yes. I'm sorry."

"And you want me to forgive you?" he pressed.

Pansy reached up to tug her collar away from her sticky neck, grimacing. "Yes. I suppose I would."

"Then you need to be punished," he announced, sounding rather pleased with this assessment.

"Punished?" she echoed, slipping off the edge of the desk and to her feet.

"Yes." He turned to face her, tucking his hands in his trouser pockets and rocking his hips forward slightly. "I'd be pleased to do the honors."

She was still staring at him incredulously. "Punished? How on earth do you propose to do that? And-- and why should you be able to punish me?" she demanded, fingering her own prefect pin. "Wouldn't you say our power is about equal?"

He stepped up next to her, and touched a finger to her lower lip, lingering in the dent her teeth had recently made. "I'm older than you are, Pansy."

"By three months." But her voice was faint. The corners of his mouth curved up, and he moved his hand down to her upper arm.

"And what a long three months they were." He fell back into the desk chair, and brought her down with him, although she fell to the floor between his knees. "Just enough to give me a wiser perspective on the world."

She glared up at him from her spot on the floor. "So what exactly do you propose, Draco? Shall I go stand in the corner? Or perhaps you'll confiscate my pudding after dinner. Or-- no, not even you would be cruel enough to take away my comic book collection under the bed."

His mouth twisted up into an even deeper smile, his eyes looking deceptively shadowy. "No, Pansy. I think you need a spanking."

She stared up at him for a moment, her mouth slightly open. "You're serious," she said, when he didn't laugh. "You want to spank me."

He shrugged, tearing his gaze away from her and focusing it out the window. She knew he could see the lake from where he was sitting; she was momentarily gripped with thoughts of how cool it would be against her over-warm skin. "You're the one who wants me to forgive you so badly." He glanced back down at her. "I can hold a grudge for quite a long time."

Pansy licked her lips thoughtfully, saying nothing. His hands, lying placidly on his thighs, twitched again, as though he was already anticipating touching her. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of her face, which she wiped away absently. It was difficult to get a good deep breath in the dry, thick warmth. "All right," she said, still watching his fingers as she slowly eased up. "If that's what you want. I suppose I deserve it."

She shut her eyes for a moment, and then draped herself across his lap, her arms stretched down to steady herself against the floor. Her skirt hitched up a little as she slid down into position, and his hand ran up the back of her bare thigh, shoving it all the way off her arse.

Her knickers were a creamy color and rather plain, and he slid his hand against them, tracing the curves of her skin through the thin material. She shivered as he touched her, his fingers skimming over her white skin with an eagerness they hadn't possessed in ages. It nearly made her remember when they would first take off each other's clothes and marvel at each layer of material and gender-specific tailoring. Nearly, Pansy thought, eyeing the carved foot of the desk and trying to concentrate on the fingertip that was straying down to the material over her cunt, but not quite.

She was just beginning to give into the hazy pleasure of his nervous, nimble fingers when his hand suddenly moved away, and came down against her with a smack! She jumped involuntarily, her heart kicking into high speed at the shock. He paused for a moment, allowing for the stinging to subside, and struck again, harder. Pansy made a faint noise that Draco didn't acknowledge, slapping her arse again-- and again, and again, and again, his momentum building as each crack sent his hand bouncing back. Pansy nearly bit through her lower lip, until she was breathless and dizzy with the effort to not cry out. She could hear his labored breathing as he finally paused, running his fingertips against her reddened, sensitive skin.

"Say it," he whispered, fingers digging into the soft, supple flesh of her arse. He peeled back the edge of her panties-- they had begun to ride up, anyway -- and lightly caressed the skin there. He waited a few moments, as though carefully considering the silence that met his request, then he slapped her once again.

"I'm sorry," she blurted, sucking in breaths. She squirmed in embarrassment and soreness, grinding down onto his half-stiffened cock. He couldn't tell if it was accidental. "I'm sorry. I didn't," she paused, still trying to catch her breath, "I--I didn't fuck him."

Draco went perfectly still for a moment, and then suddenly stood up, dragging her upright with him. She stumbled slightly as he jerked her around to face him, one hand gripping her jaw as he leaned in and clamped his mouth over hers. Pansy gripped his shoulders, letting him shove her backwards, step by step, to the edge of the bed. He pulled his mouth away from hers long enough to look at her, and then held her against him for a moment, her face crushed to his dark woolen vest, just above his hammering heart.

"Well, I didn't fuck Tracey Davis," he said into her hair, just before tossing her back onto the bed. She landed in a pool of sunlight, bright yellow and scorching.

He followed her down, settling his knees on either side of her hips, and covered her mouth with his again. She shut her eyes tightly as his teeth grazed her lips, tongue, and then moved down to slide across the sensitive skin of her neck. He let his kiss rest there for a moment, against the throb of her pulse, before she murmured his name again.

Draco leaned back and rolled his shirtsleeves up, exposing the pale skin of his arms. She could see the muscle beneath flex with his movements; he wasn't particularly strong, but his thin frame was filling out. He looked older than he used to, stronger, and somehow more commanding. His cheeks were flushed, from exhilaration and the heat, the stifling heat of the upstairs bedroom.

She reached her hand up to touch his face, damp and stern-looking with lust. She reached down to tug the button of his trousers from its clasp, freeing his straining cock at last. Draco sighed audibly in pleasure as he tugged it from his shorts, and Pansy watched with fascination as it sprang nearly against his stomach. He closed his eyes and slid his hand up and down the length a few times before finally turning his attention back to her.

"Why did you lie to me?" he whispered, pinning her legs apart with his own. He was still wearing his entire uniform, and his tie draped down across her breasts when he leaned over her.

"I wanted to make you jealous," she muttered, pushing an errant lock of hair away from his face. "Did it work?"

He reached under her skirt and yanked her panties down, rocking backwards to tug them all the way past her kneesocks and off her shoes. His eyes glinted as she squirmed, sliding her legs apart and reaching for him.

"Not like this," he finally said, shaking his head and pulling her up off the bed. Before she could say anything, he spun her around and shoved her back down.

Pansy's breath hitched in her lungs as he pressed her down into the bed, his hand around the base of her neck, gripping her head against the delicate bedspread while he moved in behind her. Her hips remained up in the air, knees apart enough to give him a full view of her. She knew he was gripping his cock with the hand not restraining her; she could hear the shakes in his own labored breathing. There was a long pause, and she tensed, in nervousness and anticipation.

"Pansy."

She shut her eyes as he drove into her, her fingers twisting in the slippery soft material of the blanket. It stung slightly-- it had been too long since she had him in her, too many weeks without that inner pressure. He paused, hips flush against her, letting his cock stretch her. She flexed around him and Draco made a faint noise in his throat as he pulled out and then slammed back in. His fingers gripped her hips, and after a moment, he leaned in against her, propping his hands up on either side of her torso to better angle himself against her back.

"Yes," he muttered muzzily, resting his lips against the material of her blouse, just over her spine. He rolled his hips, moving in and out of her just a fraction. "Yes, Pansy. You like that, don't you?"

She turned her head to the side, pressing her lips together, and made a vaguely affirmative noise. She could feel the outline of his prefect badge against her back, right in front of his heart and right behind hers. Her breath was still labored and uneven; it was as though she couldn't quite come to terms with this turn of events, she couldn't quite come to terms with Draco wanting her again, so sudden and so violent.

He lengthened his strokes a little, shifting his weight so that he could slip his hand under the front of her skirt. Pansy braced herself for the touch of his fingertips, and let out a small scream as the blunt silver head of his ring made contact with her slick flesh. Draco traced the tip of his nose down the curve of her neck as he ground the delicate carved serpent back and forth against her clit. His cock jumped inside of her at her savage, desperate whimper; Pansy turned her face back against the bedspread, biting down on the fabric and grinding her teeth against the cotton. She could feel herself sweating into her uniform, the wool sticking to her skin, her hair falling limpidly around her face. Draco felt like a furnace, waves of heat rolling off of him as he covered her. He whispered nonsense against her shoulder, his breath hot as it seeped through the fabric.

"My Pansy, my Pansy. Sweet, sweet Pansy."

He wiped his fingers on her thigh as he withdrew them, and after a few more thrusts, more desperate and amateurish than before, pulled out and roughly turned her over. His cock was shiny and wet in his grip, and Pansy curled her fingers over his, tugging even harder at it than he had.

"This is it," he breathed, and she twisted out of his grasp, leaning down to brush her mouth over the head of his cock. Draco groaned and let his hand slip away as she jacked him harder, the combination of precome, spit, and her wetness making her fingers glide. His cock was flushed so much darker than the rest of his skin, even as pink as that was, the veins risen up visibly against her fingertips. Pansy stared up at him, up the straight line of his buttoned shirt to his rumpled, hiked-up vest, his askew tie, and the wetness of his mouth that gleamed in the late-afternoon sun. The first string of hot come splattered on her cheek, the second on her nose. She curved her tongue around the edge of his cock, and the third spurt hit her right above the eye.

Pansy laughed as she fell back on the bed, smearing it off her eyelid and down her cheek. Traces glittered wetly on her eyelashes as she scooped it into her mouth, licking her fingertips lazily. Draco collapsed next to her with a groan, pulling her against him even as he tugged open the buttons on his shirt to ease the feverish warmth.

She lolled her head over onto his shoulder and studied his face; his cheeks were flushed unnaturally red, creating a stark contrast to the rest of his pale face. He opened his eyes slowly, focusing on her, and then quirked the edge of his mouth up a little. Their mouths brushed together lightly as he swept his crooked finger against her cheek, catching a smudge of come she had missed.

"So you forgive me?" she whispered.

"Yes." He brought his knuckle to her lips. "I suppose I do."

.