Archive of Our Own

Strange things happened in war, Pansy decided, and one of the weirdest things had to be the fact she'd just found herself waking up next to Hermione sodding Granger. Actually, she'd been waking up next to Granger for the past three months, but never before had she woken up snuggling with her. Snuggling with a mudblood. If it weren't for the fact her ancestors had probably already rolled themselves dizzy, Pansy thought, they'd probably be turning in their graves.

She couldn't even really even blame it on the war. Because the immediacy of it was over. The final showdown went ahead as planned, Harry killed Voldemort, Draco came back to the side of Light and Truth and Good Things Like Kittens, people died, and then people partied. But people did not wake up next to Granger. At least not people called Pansy, who were in possession of gorgeous dresses and an accent you could cut glass with. She assumed that a Weasley or three had woken up next to Granger, snuggling, before, but not a Parkinson.

Presumably it should all be blamed upon the vodka. And the gin. And the general frenzied partying that followed the fall of the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord that had been the general bane of her life for the entirety of her school career; and in a little corner of her brain it seemed rather unfair that only Draco got sympathy for that. Sympathy that, if the events of last night meant anything, seemed to involve being shagged thoroughly by a Longbottom. A well-endowed Longbottom at that, and Pansy felt very virtuous for not sending Hera with a letter full of all the many puns that she felt could be made from that circumstance. But yes, only sodding Draco ever got sympathy for having to join the forces of Good, All Things Considered. Perhaps it was because he was pointy and generally managed to look a bit frail even when well fed, whereas she was never going to look anything less than ridiculously healthy - although she had noticed last night when getting dressed that apparently the stress of being in hiding and fighting people she'd once considered friends did at least lead to weight loss. A distinct shortage of food in the last few weeks could have had something to do with it as well. And a diet of Marlboro Lights wasn't going to be unhelpful.

None of this thought train was managing to distract Pansy from the fact that she, apparently, had just shagged Granger. A conclusion reached by the cunning use of logic from the fact that her knickers were on one side of the room, and her bra hanging off the bedside light, and that when she'd woken up Granger's hand had been cupping her breast and there was a lovebite on the inside of her thigh.

Draco,
I don't care if you've got a raging hangover. We need to meet NOW. I am not joking. I am having a world-ending crisis. Cafe down the road, ten minutes.

P.S. Neville!!

"So, let me get this straight. You woke up this morning next to Granger?" Draco raised his eyebrows and conveyed an air of disbelief, even from behind the largest sunglasses Pansy had ever seen.

"Yes." Pansy replied tersely, and took another swallow of her coffee. "Not that that's actually the crisis. I mean, we've been sharing beds for three months, the side of Light not exactly being well-equipped with space, but I think we had sex. Which is a crisis. I think."

"You think?"

"Well. Yes. Maybe ... It's not that there's anything wrong with Granger. Even you've got to admit she's rather good looking. And whatever she's using on her hair is a marvellous invention. Plus, those breasts." Pansy trailed off and poked at her scrambled egg, even it managed to look disinterested, "Why do we come here for food? It's dreadful. The egg looks bored with itself."

"We only ever come here when we're hungover. Everything looks disinterested then. And don't change the subject. You were talking about Granger and her breasts; what precisely are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know. Get rid of this hangover, go home, try and work out if I did shag Granger."

"If you did, what are you going to do about that?" Draco managed to look both interested and somewhat repulsed by the idea, which was presumably, Pansy thought, a reflection on the fact that it was Granger, an idea which admittedly took some getting used to.

"See if I can get some more sex out of it, I suppose. Maybe she'll stop telling me I should be conserving my energy for the great fight against the forces of darkness. Speaking of which, anyone know what happened to Potter last night?" Pansy said as she stood up, wincing at the sound her chair made scraping across the pavement.

"No clue. I was otherwise occupied. As you know, obviously." Draco said the latter pointedly, and raised an eyebrow. "Snooping, were we?"

"Catching you and Neville shagging didn't require snooping. You were in full view of anyone coming up the stairs."

"Ah well. I at least am pretty and everyone had a lovely view," Draco smirked, apparently not in the least ashamed to have been caught with Longbottom's mouth on his cock.

"You, my dear, are pointy. In every single way." And with that Pansy apparated off with a sharp crack.

"It's just a front door. They aren't scary," Granger said as she opened the front door Pansy had been pacing in front of for five minutes, to the considerable distress of her headache. "This one doesn't bite. I promise."

"You might be lying to me." Hermione stepped back in order to let Pansy through. "But as long as you have coffee, I don't particularly care."

"Oh, I have coffee." Hermione grinned in a way that reminded Pansy of Blaise when he was working through an Arithmancy puzzle. "I also have croissants and the newspaper."

"My, how civilised. Next thing we'll be having people over for Sunday dinner."

"I'd rather spend Sunday in bed. You're very limber." Hermione turned to the crossword and accioed a pen from the living room. "It might turn into a different story. Fifteen letters, three blanks G blank L three blanks I five blanks?"

"Spiral staircase. You've got five down wrong, it's not eager it's error. So we did have sex then?"

"Oh, of course it is. Bloody hangover. And yes. Twice. Once here and once in the alley on the way home because you couldn't wait five seconds."

"Ah. Well, that's ..."

"Awkward? Not really. Well I hope not. I did rather enjoy it, but obviously if you don't want to think about it, or ever do it again, I'm sure I'll cope. You're nice but I'm not about to fall headlong in love with you." Hermione poured herself some more coffee. "Right, eight across, A puzzling interrogation, no letters. Or thirteen down, Creamery disappears, three blanks B, two blanks."

"Oh, for Salazar's sake, Grang - Hermione. I've got a hangover that feels like a Niffler rummaging around in my brain, and you're sat opposite me in one of Ron's old shirts and I can see all of your left breast. Fuck the crossword, let's go back to bed." Pansy stood up, drained her coffee and after planting a kiss on Hermione's forehead started walking towards the bedroom, shedding her clothes as she went.

Draco,

Definitely having sex with Granger. Fucking great sex in fact. Remind me to tell you about this thing she can do with her hand. I'm sure Longbottom would love it.
Also, come to dinner. Thursday, eight, bring wine.

Pansy.

P.S. Tell your sodding owl to stop molesting Hera. She's losing feathers from the stress. Get it a boyfriend or girlfriend of some sort.