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Not Quite Sure But She Could Guess, 2006
Pansy wouldn’t necessarily call herself a romantic sap by nature but when she woke up that morning she was disappointed that she woke up alone, especially when it wasn’t her flat she found herself in. She expected more from her erstwhile adversary, though it was probably more appropriate to call him Harry now.
Still, it wasn’t enough to make her regret last night, especially coming after five dates with the man in question. Well one Ministry Gala where they were both attending on their own, two brunches following on from that, a spur of the moment after work meal at a nearby pub, and now a planned meal at an above average though not excellent Italian restaurant that the company more than made up for. Dating Harry hadn’t been something she was aiming at to begin with. Sure, the playground animosity had died very quickly after the war but they still floated in very different circles, with her job requiring her to take part in Galas and Balls held by the rich, powerful, and/or famous (plus her family name meant she was expected to make an appearance regardless of that) while “Auror Potter” was notorious for avoiding as many of those sorts of functions as possible. The fact he’d been attending a Gala hosted to celebrate the restoration of formal membership of the ICW to the British Ministry was something of a surprise.
What came as more surprising was that Harry, divorcee of just over a year with a four year old child, was someone who she enjoyed spending time with. Sure at a shallow level there was simply the fact he was easy on the eyes but he had an honesty and warmth to him that precluded any display of falsehood many others, including herself she could admit, put on at those events. His self-deprecating sense of humour that wouldn’t roll over in the face of teasing also made it hard to pull herself away from him, to the point she realised she’d entirely missed the point of why she had been attending in the first place which led to a rather stern rebuking from her editor… before they asked her to write about the presence of her “date” instead. It turns out having to write the “Who’s Who” column on what was essentially her own evening was a rather strange experience.
Well, at least she can now add “very considerate lover, almost annoyingly so” to the biography.
Pansy stopped smiling for a moment and fell back against the pillows and wiped at her eyes, was she mad for having done this? Screwing up her own life and that of another functioning adult due to either relationships or flings becoming complicated was something she could handle, she’d done it enough times. Here however there was a child to the side of the picture, one that she knew would have to become involved at some point if this was to carry on. She knew she was fine with that but that thought still nagged at her when she let it, that despite all her desires to get it right she could still ruin everything. Right now however she buried it back down and focused on where she was right now, wondering what her next move was going to be. Not long-term stuff like where she saw herself in five years time (Senior Politics Reporter, Editor, anything where I’m not the busybody anymore) but rather short-term issues like what to wear after she showered in what she suspected was the ensuite through the door she could groggily see past the bottom of the bed.
She hadn’t planned to come back to Harry’s the night before so she had no spare clothes with her.
She didn’t think her little black dress was suitable for first morning after talk, plus she didn’t want to risk staining it with whatever deliciousness she could now smell coming from downstairs.
She could quickly apparate back home and hope she got back without Harry noticing the use of magic or finding that the naked woman he left in his bed had disappeared.
That left her with one option as she could see it, raiding the wardrobe. It may seem rude but given how every man she’s ever met seemed biologically enamoured with the concept it was fair game.
She pushed back the covers only to almost yelp from the freezing cold room, the Spring weather hitting fast, and rushing to the bathroom. At least she found that Harry had a shower that appeared operable to the average human allowing her to warm up rather quickly, staying in the stream far longer than necessary. Once she willed herself out the shower however she found the towels however left something to be desired, being rather coarse and threadbare plus a rather sickly mint green colour that went out of fashion a decade ago. It was as she finished towelling off she noticed the spare set of loungewear that had been left hanging on the back of the door, she guessed deliberately for her benefit. She was all set to try them on but when she removed the hanger she noticed another item that had been left there as well that caused her to grin.
It was just perfect.
Harry was wondering whether he’d possibly gone quite mad, currently stuck somewhere between high as a kite and utterly terrified. It was safe to say Harry was rusty when it came to dating, with his history having been limited to the still awkward attempt at Fifth Year dating with Cho and his failed marriage with Ginny that saw him separated and divorced before twenty-five. Given he was the primary care-giver to his young son he half expected that would be it for quite a while.
Yet now comes along this quick-witted, sharp-tongued, intelligent woman who has absolutely no problem taking him down a peg and he can’t get her out of his head. Only a few months before he’d have wanted nothing to do with her but now he couldn’t wait until he talked to her again, learning the simple things about her and what things were like growing up on the other side of the House divide, hearing about what stories she had on the go next, and staring in awe at the way she skilfully navigated the many aspects of Ministry politics he despised. He liked her, really liked her.
And here he was having panicked upon waking up to having this amazing woman in his bed, an arm of hers draped over his side, and fled to the kitchen where he hoped to distract himself by cooking.
Idiot.
Still, he figured maybe he could turn this into breakfast in bed if he got his act together fast enough.
“What you cooking?”
Maybe not…
“Oh, just thought you might like breakfast in bed,” he tried to act, though even he had to admit it wasn’t a great excuse.
“You’ll have to try better than that with the Prophet’s finest Mr Potter,” she teased.
He turned as she was still coming down the stairs, “well we can always take it back… upstairs.. if…” he trailed off as he saw her.
“Hmm, hope you don’t mind me borrowing this, I didn’t have anything else to wear,” she said as though that also wasn’t a complete lie given the smirk on her face.
“No… no, it’s fine,” he stuttered out, trying to find some sort of composure as he stared at the temptress just casually leaned on the wall in the adjoining dining room, her bob a mess and dressed in his Quidditch jersey from the amateur Ministry team he used to play with that swamped her yet seemed to be only barely covering her at the same time, “hold on, I’m pretty sure I left out far more practical clothes for you.”
“But watching your face wouldn’t be quite as rewarding in those would it,” she smiled as she glided towards him, leaning up for a rather chaste yet lingering kiss, “good morning by the way,” she finished before pulling away before he had the chance to reacquaint himself with more than her waist.
“Morning to you too,” he tried to force out, probably coming out more nervously than he intended, “how’d you sleep,” he asked, wincing at the stupid small-talk nature of it. His companion however thankfully moved onwards from that.
“Lovely after such a tiring evening,” she teased, her smile becoming a full grin as he felt himself go red, “you’re burning the food by the way.”
Harry jumped at that and turned his attention back to the cooker as he heard her sit at the table, “it’s fine, nothing wrong with slightly burnt bacon,” he said as he dished up breakfast for the pair of them and joined her at the table, finding she’d thankfully taken the mugs he left on the side with her. He was still sitting down as she got ahead of him and began eating, audibly signifying her enjoyment of it.
“At least there’s one reason already in your favour to keep you around,” she complimented.
“Glad it’s to your satisfaction.”
“Well if this counts as part of the dating experience I’m definitely thinking a 7 or 8 overall.”
“Only that much?”
“Well the dinner could’ve been better, pasta shouldn’t be served only warm, and your performance was above average last night so sounds fair,” she teased. He didn’t think the food had been that bad but he was hardly “cultured” in that regard and given her reactions last night he didn’t think that last part was entirely truthful.
“So do you think there’ll be a second date then,” he asked with about as much guile as a teenager. There was another question he wanted to ask but he hoped he wouldn’t have to be that direct just yet, hoping to just enjoy the afterglow of the morning.
“I would say your chances are rather good on that regard, though by my count it’d be our sixth date if you count the other times,” she answered, reaching across to lightly squeeze his forearm, “I might quickly get some water, where are the glasses?”
“Top left shelf above the sink,” he answered before realising what that meant as he watched her reach up on her tiptoes, the bottom of the shirt lifting enough to reveal that her arse looked just as good in a pair of his boxers as in those rather small knickers she wore last night, “are there any of my clothes you aren’t going to pinch at this rate?”
“Well next time I’ll make sure to keep spares here,” she said as she sat back down before rushing out, “if there is a next time.”
At least I’m not the only one more nervous than they want to give away…
“I’d like there to be Pansy. The thing you have to understand though is that it’s a package deal. If you want this to be long-term, which I do, then that means my son will have to be made aware along with his mother. I’m not saying that has to be right away, if you want to see how this goes for three or four months on the quiet side that’s fine, but if you decide it’s what you want then there’ll have to be involvement at that point.”
Pansy seemed to be listening intently, not giving anything away with her expression as she stayed silent for what felt like two minutes before she replied, “I’m fine with that Harry. I wouldn’t have let it get to this point if I was fundamentally against that issue. However I don’t expect to be placed as a step-mother figure or caregiver towards him at any point in the near term after that though either. Your ex-wife is someone I’d like to keep away for even longer but I can understand if not.”
Harry could accept that, he linked his hand with hers across the table, “so we’re doing this then?”
She laughed softly at that, Merlin he loved her laugh, “yes Harry, we’re doing this. You really are new to this aren’t you?”
He had to nod and laugh at that, “well you wrote that piece about me with, what was it again, oh “there must be a pretty big defect for someone so rich to be so alone”.”
“That was definitely one of my more inspired lines.”
“Yes, I only had four clippings of that taped to my desk. So did you find anything defective then?”
Pansy rolled her eyes and rose from the chair, answering as she made her way round to sit in his lap, “other than that your flirting is atrocious not too much. Though for the benefit of journalistic accuracy I think it’d be better for further interactions,” she finished as she snogged him more thoroughly this time, shifting slightly as a certain part of him reacted to having such a scantly clad woman in his lap for the first time in a long while.
“Whatever’s best for your readers,” he returned when she pulled back, getting up again to drag him by the arm towards the stairs.
“Who said I’m doing this for the readers,” she suggested. Halfway up the stairs she stopped and turned to him, “piece of advice though, don’t feel the need to ask if I’m alright so much Harry. I’ll happily let you know if you’re doing something wrong.”
He really, really liked this woman.