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Chapter 26 - Power Play (Pansy Parkinson)

Pansy Parkinson flinched at every slight noise.

Slight noises were all that there were. The hallway was completely dark except for the light at the end of her wand. She walked through the hallway, her own footsteps the only thing she could hear.

When she came around a corner and saw the outline of a suit of armor, her heartbeat shot up, before stabilizing as she recognized what she was looking at.

"Fuck," she muttered. "Fuck!"

Prefect rounds were a normal part of their routine, walking the halls after curfew to help that miserable squib Filch round students staying out too late, but Pansy never liked them. The whole castle she found eery when it was like this. The only reason she could stomach the rounds normally was because Draco was at her side.

She glanced to her left, reminding herself briefly, just one more time, that this was no longer the case. She scowled.

"He's such a berk," she muttered. "Always making doe eyes at that bint. What does Daphne have that I don't?"

Even as she said it she knew the answer. Daphne didn't have a damn pug nose, instead having the perfect features of a lovely pureblood lady. She was gorgeous, though Pansy loathed to admit it, and it was honestly no wonder that when she asked to talk late at night, Draco leaped at the chance, telling Pansy to go on their usual rounds alone.

He was her boyfriend. Pansy should have been livid. But she was just annoyed, and she was trying her best to pretend she didn't know why that was.

It couldn't be about how Draco had been ignoring her for most of the year. There was no chance it was about how Draco still looked exactly like he had the year before: an alright face on a scrawny frame that Quidditch hadn't been able to help. And of all these impossible things, the one that was MOST impossible was that Pansy's sudden apathy had to do with a specific dark-haired green-eyed hunk from a certain house that wore red and gold.

Pansy shivered despite herself, and this one pulsed out from her crotch, a different sensation entirely to her earlier fear.

Forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other, Pansy walked through more of her rounds. She kept repeating that she just had to finish quickly and get back to the common room.

What would she find in the Slytherin common room? The thought occurred to her suddenly as she recalled Daphne's impassioned look. She could think of it now… Draco on top of the blond, whispering "We have until Pansy finishes the rounds…"

There was a real possibility that she would be walking in on her boyfriend cheating on her when she got back. She'd have to be angry, wouldn't she? And then she'd need to get back at him. She'd have to cross the castle, knock on the Fat Lady's portrait, and Harry Potter would be the one to answer, and she would ask him to console her…

It would be SO much better if she didn't have to ask, though.

Pansy's gait became awkward as she started shuffling, nearly waddling, pressing her thighs tightly together. This urge, again? It had already been keeping her up half of every night. Her crotch just became so hot, and the only thing she could do to alleviate it was toil with her fingers, often barely keeping it at bay. All she knew was that it had to be Potter's fault.

There was another thumping noise, and forgetting her earlier fear, Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Come off it Peeves—" she said.

Her wand's light sent its glow across the corner, and it definitely wasn't a translucent poltergeist. It was a tall, strapping boy Pansy's own age, resting his shoulders against the wall with his arms crossed. His school robes were missing, leaving only pants and a short-sleeved shirt. Pansy could see his muscles bulging out of those cut-off sleeves.

"Potter—"

"Shut up, Parkinson," he said.

Pansy's mouth shut with a click. Her body reacted on its own, obeying his command as if he'd placed her under the Imperius Curse. But he hadn't, it was just that same warm feeling stemming from her crotch that made Pansy act obediently, even as her brain screamed at the rest of her.

This wasn't right. She was in danger.

So much danger, her body whispered back. That was the best part.

She raised her wand. Harry tore it from her fingers, casting his summoning charm wandlessly and silently. The light at its tip extinguished, reducing the hallway to pitch black.

Pansy shrieked as she was pushed against the wall. There was no magic involved, just a body far bigger than hers. Her voice was muffled moments later as a heavy calloused hand clapped down over her lips.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" Harry's voice said in the dark.

Pansy's mind raced. Had he noticed how Draco kept slipping away since the start of the year? Did he think Pansy knew about her boyfriend's secret project? Or was it something different?

The heat in her crotch returned and redoubled. Just as fast, Pansy's entire body exploded with sensation.

A noise as loud as her initial scream leaked out, absorbed by Harry's meaty hand. Pansy shut her eyes, trying to understand why she felt so good. It took a long moment for her to process the feeling around her crotch.

Harry had grabbed her. His fingers were right where she kept putting hers every night as she fantasized about him. His grip was so strong that he squeezed her right through her clothes, causing her pussy to contract.

"The way you stare at me," Harry said. "The way you're always looking in class, when you think nobody is watching… You're a dirty one, aren't you?"

Pansy opened her eyes, staring into the dark where she thought his face was. She tried to plead to him silently. She wanted more. She wanted him to tear her clothes off then and there.

He didn't. But he did do something else.

The hand holding Pansy's crotch peeled away. She still couldn't move. Harry's body was pressing against hers, holding her against the wall, and with all the muscles on his frame, Pansy honestly wasn't sure which one felt stiffer.

She was glad he was covering her mouth, because if he wasn't, she would've done something demeaning like begging on his knees for him not to stop now.

She felt his hand on her mouth, firm and unrelenting in its grip. But she felt his other hand now, too, and this one's touch was different. It brushed along her body gently; the touch was far more delicate than anything Draco had ever laid on her. The contrast made Pansy's mind feel ready to snap with excitement.

Harry's gentle hand unbuttoned her clothes one button at a time. He eased her Slytherin robes off and let them drop from Pansy's shoulders onto the floor. When he got to just her shirt, he slid his fingers under the hem. Pansy couldn't help but shake at his touch. It trailed around her side, reaching the latch of her bra and clicking it open. Her bra fell away, sliding down her stomach and tumbling out to land on the floor.

Her pants were unbuttoned right after. Harry slid these down slowly, though he only pushed them down to her knees. When he got to her panties, he came at them from the bottom, pinching the fabric and dragging them down just as slowly.

"Soaked," Harry said. "What are we going to do with you, my slutty snake?"

HIS snake. Pansy shook with excitement. She waited for that gentle hand to slide up her shirt again, or nestle into her crotch…

She was still fantasizing when Harry pulled her forward. The hand disappeared from her mouth. His body pulled away from hers. She landed on her knees, wearing just an undershirt with no bra while her crotch was on full display to the dark hallway.

She waited for Harry to pounce on her, but his touch didn't return.

"Harry?" she said weakly.

There was no answer. And when she strained her ears, the only faint noises she could pick up sounded like Filch's heavy boots to her suddenly paranoid brain.

"Harry, did you leave?" she asked.

Her voice sounded timid, even to her. Her father would've lashed her if he heard his heir speak in such an unbecoming way. Her mother might have disowned her. Both of these things seemed like small prices to pay, in comparison to losing Harry's touch.

"Please," she whispered. "I need it so badly."

Pansy suddenly found her forehead pressing against the floor of the hallway. That firm hand was back. She nearly wept with relief.

"Slut," Harry said fondly.

"Your slut!" Pansy said. "I'll do anything! Whatever you want! Just… Just… just don't leave…"

It was too dark for her to see a single thing, even after her eyes had time to adjust to the darkness. There were no windows on this corridor, all the candles and torches were unlit, and her wand was still wherever Harry discarded it. All that was left was the two of them. Perhaps the dark was the reason Pansy found it so easy to give in to him. It was so easy to pretend this was another one of her fantasies, not a real rendezvous with her boyfriend's most hated person.

"Usually, I would warm a girl up in some way," Harry said. "With my fingers… Maybe with my tongue… But you don't need any of that, do you?"

He slapped Pansy, right on the lips of her pussy. Pansy moaned so loudly, she thought you could've heard it all the way at the top of the Astronomy Tower.

The sound of the impact proved Harry's point. It was wet, like smacking a puddle. Pansy felt moisture droplets hit her thighs, catapulted up by Harry's fingers. Her pussy ached from the pain, but also from something more: desire.

"I know just how to treat a girl like you."

Pansy screamed again, feeling like her eyes were about to pop out of her skull. Something enormous had been jammed inside of her. It was bigger than her entire fist. It was bigger than the toys she saw for sale in Diagon Alley one time, the ones that her mother scolded her for even looking in the direction of. She was absolutely certain that Harry had brought his Firebolt with him just to shove it all the way to her womb, but then it began to move.

She felt his thighs colliding with her butt. Clapping sounds filled the empty hallway, clearly the noise of skin hitting skin. Which meant, somehow…

That what he had thrust into her was all his big, throbbing cock, and nothing else.

"Ahh! Ahh! Ahh!" Pansy moaned.

Harry's arm flexed. Her head was flattened against the floor even more firmly, with her folding in half from the pressure. Pansy continued to cry out. Her body reacted to Harry's as he held her down, pounding her from behind. Pansy felt her pussy flood as she came, and discovered to her great shock that the feeling was incomparable to the orgasms her fingers had brought out over the last few nights.

No, none of her fantasies about Harry could have prepared her for the true feeling of him. He was so much stronger than she thought possible, as well as so much more companding and domineering. He moved with experience. How many of the Gryffindor girls got to feel this already? He'd probably fucked every member of that little club of his that Umbridge shut down. Jealousy filled Pansy like a cup left beneath the spigot.

Somehow, Harry knew. Before she realized it Pansy was being flipped onto her back. He tore off her bunched-up pants and panties in one abrupt jerk, leaving her naked except her sheer shirt, which had ridden up far enough to show off her underboobs. Harry leaned his weight forward, driving his dick down into her from above. His hands wrapped around her throat.

"You're my slut from now on," Harry said. "That means I fuck you when I want, how I want. You don't get to complain about who else I sleep with. You don't even get to think about them. If you have a problem like that… Then you can lose this dick forever."

Pansy tried to scream, "No!" but she couldn't. Harry was holding her too tightly. Her face was getting red, her brain was getting fuzzy, and her pussy was getting even wetter.

Harry tore through her like a beast. It was an entirely different act compared to sex with Draco. Harry was so dominant, she couldn't stand the thought of NOT belonging to him. After a single orgasm she had gotten hooked on his cock.

Pansy wouldn't have it any other way.

After over a month of fingering herself desperately, trying anything she could to alleviate her never ending horniness, it was finally being fucked out of her. When Harry was through with her, she felt like she would be reborn as a new woman. She'd be able to get a full night's sleep again, and mean it any time she smiled.

What did she have to give up in order to achieve that? Break up with Draco?

She already planned to. After Harry, she couldn't even see him as a man.

"Please," Pansy croaked.

Harry's fingers tightened. At the exact moment he came inside her, using her womb like a receptacle for his seed, Pansy passed out. She wasn't sure if it was the lack of oxygen that got her, or the mind breaking orgasm she experienced at the feeling of him filling her. She just knew that she couldn't remember ever being this happy.

"Whew."

Harry pulled himself off of Pansy, prying his cock out of her wrecked pussy. When he scavenged his own from his robes and cast a Lumos spell, he found an audience waiting for him.

Tracey was smirking, while the gorgeous blond beside her stared at Pansy on the floor, unable to move her eyes away.

"Finally!" Tracey said. "A night where that slut won't keep me up with her moaning! I knew I made the right choice when I picked you as a business partner."

Harry smiled. "The job is only half done."

"That's true," Tracey agreed. "Trade you?"

She pushed Daphne forward, making the blond squeak loudly. A moment later Harry had scooped her up, carrying her bridal style.

"What's the meaning of this?" Daphne asked. "I did exactly as you asked! I even let Draco touch my hand!"

Tracy smirked, levitating up Pansy's unconscious form and charming her clothes to jump back onto her.

"That's exactly why," Tracey said. "You were a very good girl. So it's time for a reward."

"And Tracey is really missing a good night's sleep," Harry said to Daphne. "Which means I'll be taking you somewhere else, and the two of us won't be sleeping much at all."

Daphne didn't answer, but she did wiggle deeper into his arms.

"You do that," Tracey said. "Meanwhile, I'll be going." She marched back toward the dungeons. "Eight hours here I come!"

Harry turned the opposite way, carrying Daphne.

"But aren't you tired?" she asked him, glancing at the spot where he and Pansy had fucked.

"I'll tell you a secret," Harry said. "My record so far is four girls in a row. Which leaves me three peoples shares to pump into you now. Think you can handle it?"

"No," Daphne said immediately. "But" —she smiled— "I'd love to try!"

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