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"Sir, Harry Potter is here for your 10:00 appointment." Harry couldn't hear the man's response, but the pretty young brunette secretary poked her head back into the waiting room and smiled at him. "Mister Greengrass will see you now, Mister Potter."

"Thank you," he said, smiling and nodding at her as he walked past. He was somewhat surprised that he'd been received so promptly; usually the stuffy Ministry higher-ups liked to keep him waiting as a means of exerting power and authority. Then again, Greengrass knew why he was here. He didn't need to play any games today because no matter how Harry chose to respond, he'd already won either way.

"Ah, Lord Potter-Black, so good to see you." Charles Greengrass, grandfather of Daphne and Astoria Greengrass (and thus grandfather-in-law to Draco Malfoy) smiled as Harry walked into his office. It was an oily smile, one that Harry had the urge to punch right off of his face, but he knew it would be an empty sort of revenge.

"Good morning, Lord Greengrass," he replied, keeping his voice neutral. Charles and the rest of the Greengrasses had largely stayed out of both of the Voldemort wars, and he wasn't downright evil like some of his contemporaries who had retained their status through a combination of friends in high places and plain old bribery. That didn't mean Harry trusted the Greengrass patriarch in the slightest. He might not be quite as bad as the likes of the Malfoys, but he was still a big believer in 'the old ways.'

"Thank you very much for coming in. Please take a seat." He gestured to the seat opposite his desk, and Harry voiced his gratitude as he took it. "Now, I believe you have come regarding a certain matter of inheritance?"

"That is correct." As if they both didn't know exactly why he was there. "I recently received an owl from the Ministry informing me that if I do not marry, and I quote, 'a witch of acceptable status' within the next ninety days, familial law declares that I must be stripped of my title as Lord Black, as well as the inheritance of the various Black properties and monies that were left to me in the will of Sirius Black, and they will be reassigned to the closest Black relative."

"Draco Malfoy, I believe," Greengrass supplied innocently. Harry resisted the urge to scowl. If his attempt to reinstate Andromeda Tonks into the Black family hadn't been blocked by similar archaic pureblood politics, perhaps he never would have been backed into this corner. If it had only been about money he would have let Draco have what little remained of the formerly sizeable Black fortune without a second thought, but there was no way in hell he was going to let the ferret get his hands on Grimmauld Place.

"That is correct. I have come here today to inquire as to what constitutes a witch of acceptable status." It went without saying that it'd be a pureblood, but he had no idea what other restrictions or regulations they might throw in.

"That was a very prudent decision," Charles said. Harry had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. As if they hadn't figuratively held a wand to his head precisely so they could tell him who he was going to marry! "As it happens, a colleague of mine has already investigated the established Black family rules for situations such as this, and he passed this information along to me not even a week ago. I can explain what he found if you so wish."

"How fortunate," Harry said tonelessly. "I'd appreciate it if you could provide me with a written copy of the rules that I can review on my own time." He knew Hermione would want to thoroughly examine every last word for any loophole that could help him. Even if he didn't hold out much hope that she'd be able to find anything, it couldn't hurt.

"I can certainly do that, though it will take a day or two to arrange. Is there anything else I can help you with this morning, Lord Potter-Black?"

"If you've already reviewed the matter I'm assuming you've determined who the eligible marriage candidates are?" Charles nodded. "If you could give me my list of options, I won't take up any more of your time today."

"That won't take up much time at all," Greengrass said. "There will be no need for a list. The ancient Lords Black were very thorough in ensuring that only a witch that they would approve of could inherit the title of Lady Black. I won't bore you with the details, but there is only one unattached witch who meets all the criteria laid out by your predecessors."

That wasn't what Harry was expecting to hear. "Who is it?" he asked, feeling his heart skip a beat. Greengrass paused, the oily smile back in full force, obviously enjoying drawing this moment out and making Harry squirm.

"Fortunately for you there won't be any awkward introductions required, as you are already acquainted with your future bride." That did nothing to quell Harry's nerves. "You went to school with her, in fact! The future Lady Potter-Black is Miss Pansy Parkinson."

--

"Harry, I couldn't find any loopholes. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Hermione. Thanks for trying." Harry smiled to show his longtime friend that he truly appreciated all the time she'd put in helping him search for some way out of this mess, but it was a halfhearted smile that didn't reach his eyes. If not even she had been able to find anything, certain elements of the Ministry had clearly plotted this out well.

"What are you going to do? You aren't actually going to go through with it, are you?" Hermione scowled at the very thought of some of the narrow-minded members of magical society controlling her friend's life in this way, but he couldn't bring himself to muster her indignation. He'd had enough dealings with the Ministry, whether it be before, during or after the war, to be shocked or outraged by anything they did.

"Part of me wants to tell those old bastards to stick it up their arses, and damn the consequences." Hermione nodded in approval, and the fact that she didn't reprimand him for his language spoke to just how angry she was about this whole situation. "But that would be really selfish of me."

"You're the most selfless person I know, and I love you for it. But you're allowed to be selfish here. It's your life they're trying to control! I'm sure the children would understand."

"I'm sure they would," he agreed. "But when I brought those kids to Grimmauld, I told them it wasn't just an orphanage. I told them it was their new home, and over time that's exactly what it's become. How can I allow them to lose their home when I have the power to stop it?"

She shook her head fiercely in denial and began pacing back and forth across the carpet of his study. Harry watched her in silence, knowing better than to interrupt her at the moment. Finally she turned back to him and opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out. He stared at her calmly and she visibly deflated.

"I know that look," she said softly. "I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?"

"No," he confirmed. "Tomorrow I'm going to send an owl to Lord Parkinson so we can begin the marriage arrangements." He knew that most of his friends would not agree with this decision. Ron certainly hadn't when he'd told him, but none of them understood. They hadn't grown up longing for a home to call their own. He had, and that was exactly why he would dance to the Ministry's tune to make sure these kids didn't lose theirs.

"Oh, Harry." She sounded as if she were choking back sobs, which did nothing to help his own frustration at his situation. After closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she smiled at him shakily. "Well, I know you've always wanted to start a family of your own. Maybe this will be a good thing in the long run."

"I appreciate you trying to reassure me, but I'm not holding out much hope for a happy marriage with the woman who tried to hand me to Voldemort." Hermione winced and acknowledged the point with a nod. They left to meet Ron for dinner soon thereafter. His two friends did their best to keep his spirits up the rest of the night, but his mind couldn't help drifting to what awaited him the next morning.

--

Harry glanced around at his lavish surroundings. It was remarkable that they'd been able to arrange such an extravagant ceremony in mere weeks. Then again, gold went a long way, and Lord Parthenios Parkinson had spared no expense. The marriage of the 'Slayer of You-Know-Who' was cause for a great deal of interest in the wizarding world, and Parkinson was getting all he could out of the attention.

Harry had insisted that Hermione, Ron and the rest of the Weasleys, Neville and Luna had to be included on the guest list. Parthenios had conceded, but other than Harry's handful of friends, only the pureblood elite of the wizarding world had received an invitation. A reporter and photographer from The Daily Prophet were on hand to document every last detail of the ceremony for what was sure to be a top-selling edition of the paper. Harry had never envisioned selling off the exclusive coverage rights to his wedding, but nothing about this day resembled how he'd imagined or hoped it would one day go. Least of all the fact that he was marrying Pansy bloody Parkinson.

Ron nudged Harry back to attentiveness, and he realized that they'd reached the point in the ceremony where Pansy was due to make her grand entrance. As all of the negotiations had been with Parthenios he had not seen or spoken to Pansy. To the best of his knowledge they hadn't even been in the same room since the Battle of Hogwarts.

The girl, or rather woman, who walked in on the arm of Lord Parkinson scarcely resembled the pug-faced annoyance he remembered from school. Her facial features looked perfectly pleasant now, even if the demure smile on her face was patently insincere to his eyes. He had to admit that she looked good in her elegant green dress, which appeared custom-tailored to accentuate her slender frame. It was too bad that underneath that attractive exterior was a repulsive personality, but after the time he'd spent in negotiations with her father over the last few weeks he understood where it came from.

Pansy slipped into her role of smiling bride effortlessly as her father both literally and symbolically handed her over to her husband-to-be. Harry was sure that her flawless performance would capture the attention of every onlooker and ensure good press for both herself and the Parkinson family. His own effort was abysmal in comparison. He was pretty sure he hadn't openly shown his disdain for her, so at least there was that. And even if he had, the Prophet's publishers knew that the general public's ever-fluctuating opinion of him was currently positive so they'd be sure to gloss it over.

The ceremony passed by in a blur. Before Harry knew it, all that was left was the kiss. He was only an inch or two taller than her so it was simple enough for him to look her in the eyes. She smiled pleasantly at him, and to their audience she appeared to be the very image of a happy wife. None of them could see her like he could, standing mere inches from her and clasping her hands in his own. The smile was still perfectly in place but her eyes told the story. He looked into her dark eyes and saw pure loathing, loathing that was directed squarely at him. She still hated him every bit as much as she had at Hogwarts; perhaps more.

The audience applauded as Pansy Parkinson leaned in, kissed her husband on the lips and was publicly proclaimed as the new Lady Potter-Black.

--

Harry had experienced quite a few uncomfortable walks in his life. It sort of came with the territory of being first the Boy-Who-Lived, and then the young adult who actually finished Voldemort for good. He was pretty sure none of those walks compared to the tense silence that enveloped he and Pansy after the ceremony was over, when it was time to go to their private marriage suite arranged by Lord Parkinson, as was custom. Once they arrived, Pansy walked into the bathroom without a word or even a glance in Harry's general direction. For lack of anything better to do, he sat down on the edge of the large bed and waited. His new wife didn't keep him waiting long; the bathroom door opened only a couple of minutes after she'd gone in. He turned to the door in order to finally speak to the woman he was now bound to for life, but he was stunned into silence when he saw that she was already fully nude.

There was no denying it; Pansy Parkinson--make that Pansy Potter now, he corrected--was sexy. He'd always thought she was too skinny in school, but she'd filled out very nicely. She wasn't buxom, but her breasts looked perfect on her slim body. Her flawless pale skin contrasted nicely with her dark hair. As he cast an appreciative glance down her body, he snapped back to attention when she cleared her throat.

"If you're quite finished leering at me, I'd like to get this over with, Potter." If it were possible, her voice sounded even more venomous than it had at Hogwarts. Had he maintained even a shred of doubt that she still despised him, that would have taken care of it.

"Shouldn't we at least, I dunno, talk or something first?" He knew that a magical marriage did not become official until the consummation but it felt bizarre to just jump straight into it, especially since it had been years since they'd spoken to or even seen each other.

"Why bother? I know you hate me, and I can assure you that the feeling is mutual. Neither of us is here because we want to be. Just shag me and be done with it." Harry was taken aback to hear her say that she didn't want to be here. Even if this plot had been orchestrated by Parthenios and his ilk and even if she hated him on a personal level, he'd assumed Pansy was eager to attach herself to his fame and the social cache it brought with it.

He wanted to ask her what she meant, but she effectively ended their brief conversation by climbing onto the bed and getting into position on her hands and knees. From this position, he was presented with a perfect view of her heart-shaped arse. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, he couldn't help but be aroused by her body.

Evidently he'd been staring at her bum longer than he'd realized, because Pansy grew impatient. "For fuck's sake, just get on with it!" she snapped. She looked back over her shoulder and scowled when she saw that he was still fully dressed. "I know your dear mummy and daddy died before they had a chance to give you the talk, but surely even you aren't stupid enough to think you can do this with your trousers on."

"Fuck you." He wasn't feeling uncomfortable anymore; now he was furious.

"That's the idea," she said sarcastically. "But I've always wondered if you were capable of basic human function without Granger and Weasley there to help you. Shall we call them in here so they can help you figure out how everything works?"

"Funny," he said tonelessly. Rather than removing his clothes by hand, he pulled out his wand and vanished them. He tossed his wand to the floor, grabbed her by the hips and unceremoniously entered her in one sharp thrust. She hissed at the sudden intrusion, but he gave her no time to adjust before he started moving. If she wanted him to fuck her, that's exactly what he was going to do.

After being coerced into this marriage Harry relished this feeling of control. He slammed into Pansy time after time, loud smacks reverberating throughout the room every time his hips collided with her arse. Her pale bottom jiggled from the impact, and on an impulse he gave her right cheek a swat. She voiced no complaint so he gave each cheek a good half dozen spanks. He didn't spank her hard enough to truly cause any pain but there was some definite reddening of her alabaster skin. The sight drove him to take her even harder.

A pace like this wasn't built to last, which suited them both just fine. Harry let out a mindless grunt, thrust into her one final time and stilled. He felt the magic wash over him as he spent himself inside of her, signifying that their marriage was now official in the wizarding world. He pulled out of her with a sigh.

Without a word, Pansy slipped her still nude body underneath the covers and scooted to the edge of the bed, as far away from Harry as she could get without falling off. She lay on her side, her back to him. He thought about saying something, anything, but gave it up as a bad job. He had no clue what to say, and if she responded at all it would just be to insult him again. Harry joined his wife underneath the covers, following her example by claiming the opposite side of the bed.

One night down, ninety years to go, he thought to himself darkly. He would not sleep well on this night, and though they did not speak once, he was pretty sure Pansy didn't either.

--

Nearly two months in, and Harry was slowly starting to adjust to his bizarre new life.

After a few days of near-constant sniping at each other, he and Pansy both realized that they could not continue on in that fashion unless one of them was willing to relocate to Azkaban after having finally snapped and killed the other. By mutual agreement, they stayed out of each other's way as much as possible. They lived together in a garish estate provided by Pansy's father as part of her dowry, and the immense and unwelcoming home made it easy for them to go about their lives while having virtually no interaction with each other. They were only together when obligated, which was limited to public appearances and the unavoidable weekly dinner with her widowed father at the Parkinson estate. The last several weeks, Parthenios had expressed his growing disappointment in their failure to conceive an heir. Harry knew it would be expected of them eventually, but he was in no hurry to do so and he was pretty sure she felt the same. She hadn't made any attempt to initiate physical contact since their wedding night, and he was quite content with that. Sex was always going to be a duty for them rather than something they did for pleasure.

It was Wednesday night, which meant they were expected at the Parkinson estate. Harry had delayed leaving work for long as he could, but there was only so much paperwork for a junior auror like him to deal with. He could put it off no longer; he was late as it is. With a sigh, he gathered his things and stepped into the floo.

Upon stepping through and dusting himself off, he was immediately greeted by a sound he knew quite well: Pansy shouting in anger. The only difference was that her anger was directed at someone else this time. He debated turning right around and leaving, perhaps coming back later. That thought was extinguished when he saw Cadby, the Parkinson house elf, looking straight at him.

"Master says for you to wait here," the elf said, nodding at the couch. He shrugged and did as the elf indicated.

"How many bloody times am I going to have to say it? I'm not closing my shop!" came Pansy's shout from the kitchen.

"You are behaving like a child, Pansy." Her father wasn't shouting, but Harry could still hear the annoyance in his tone. "Your mother was much the same way when we were first betrothed, but she saw reason soon enough. The Lady of a noble house has many important duties to see to, but running a business is not among them. The sooner you accept that, the better."

"I like my job!" she screamed. "I'm damn good at it, too!" Even Harry would concede she had a point.

"You are indeed," Parthenios agreed. "Your talent with potions is considerable. You will get far more out of it, however, by shutting down your shop and passing your skill along to the future heirs of Houses Potter and Black."

"I'm not even pregnant yet! Besides, I can't just close down and abandon my customers!"

"Customers? What customers, precisely?" Lord Parkinson asked mildly. "In case you have forgotten, I am the one who funded this little venture of yours. As your primary investor, I receive copies of all the reports from Gringotts. The meager handful of customers you actually have will have no trouble finding a new source."

"Maybe I could actually attract some customers if the last several Lords Parkinson, yourself included, hadn't run the family name through the mud!" Harry's eyes widened at what he was hearing. He'd figured out by now that Pansy's relationship with her father was strained, but he had no idea it was this openly hostile.

"You will watch your tongue, girl." Parthenios was truly angry now. Without really even thinking about it, Harry slipped his wand out of its holster and tensed his body, preparing to leap up from the couch and rush into the kitchen to intervene if this got ugly. "If anyone has damaged the standing of House Parkinson, it is you. It would have been difficult for me to restore our public image after the Dark Lord fell, but you made an already challenging task nearly impossible with your idiocy at Hogwarts before the battle began."

"I was scared! I was eighteen years old and afraid of being caught in the middle of a sodding war! Am I going to have to pay for that for the rest of my life?" Harry's mouth hung open at the unmistakable hitch in her voice. He had always assumed she'd spoken up before the battle because she wanted him dead. He'd never considered the possibility that she just feared for her own life.

"Yes, you are," Parthenios stated flatly, unmoved by his daughter's display of emotion. "A great many people, particularly the castle full of future heirs that witnessed it firsthand, will always regard you with suspicion. Your only recourse is to assume a position so strong that they will not be able to take action against you."

"Which is why you arranged for me to become Lady Potter-Black." All the fight had gone out of her voice now. She sounded tired and defeated, and it bothered him in ways he could not describe, not even to himself. "I've heard all of this before. Repeatedly, in fact."

"You haven't heard it enough, it would seem, else you would not continue to fight me on this. Potter's friends and supporters, of which there are many, already do not approve of your marriage. The longer you go without producing a child, the shakier your position becomes. That is why you must abandon this foolish dream of yours and devote yourself fully to your responsibilities as Lady Potter."

Harry waited for Pansy to refuse her father again but no response came. Deciding that it was time to make his presence known, he got up and walked towards the kitchen, ignoring Cadby's attempts to stop him.

Pansy scowled and glared daggers at him as he walked into the kitchen. She pointedly turned her back on both of them and sat down at the kitchen table. Parthenios, on the other hand, smiled at his son-in-law.

"Ah, welcome, Harry," he greeted. "I wasn't aware you had arrived."

"I got here a few minutes ago. Cadby told me to wait in the sitting room." He made sure to give nothing away in either voice or facial expression, but he was highly agitated. His eyes flicked over to Pansy a few times, willing her to turn around and look at him, but she did not budge.

"I see. I suppose you heard at least some of my conversation with my daughter?"

"It would've been hard not to." Parthenios chuckled at that, but Harry did not share his humor. Pansy continued to sit with her back to them, not giving either her father or her husband the time of day.

"Yes, Pansy has an unfortunate tendency to shout like an insolent little girl when she becomes upset; but after two months of marriage I suppose I don't need to tell you that." He chuckled once again and looked at Harry expectantly, but there was no way he was going to join in, even if he hadn't been privy to the previous conversation. Parthenios carried on as if his son-in-law hadn't reacted to his attempt at humor with a blank stare. "Still, it was worth it in the end. I know you were too noble to broach the subject with her, but I'm sure you would agree that something needed to be done."

"Actually, I don't." Lord Parkinson's smile vanished, but Harry wasn't looking at him. His eyes were fixed on Pansy, watching for a reaction, and he got one. She turned to stare at him with wide eyes. He had grown accustomed to her looking at him with annoyance at best and contempt at worst, but at the moment she just looked stunned.

"Whatever do you mean, Harry?" He finally looked away from Pansy to see Parthenios frowning at him. "It is Pansy's duty to provide an heir--your heir. And in your case you're expected to provide heirs for two powerful families, which makes it even more imperative to get started as soon as possible. Wasting her time on this silly potion business does not benefit the houses of Potter or Black in any way, nor House Parkinson as her maiden family. You have much to learn about your own responsibilities, it seems." The man was speaking to him as if he were an ignorant firstie at Hogwarts, and it infuriated him.

"I know enough about 'the old ways'. More than enough, actually," Harry said, not bothering to mask his anger. "I also know that I think they're a bunch of rubbish. I'd never ask Pansy to give up on something she's clearly passionate about just so she can do what is 'expected' of a wife in your backwards society. That'd be incredibly selfish of me, and I think you know better than most that I am not a selfish person. You certainly exploited it to get your way when it suited you."

The allusion to the political maneuverings that bound their families together in the first place was not lost on Parthenios, who scowled at the younger wizard. Harry wasn't concerned with him, though. His attention was once again on his wife, who was looking at him like she was seeing him for the very first time.

"You mean that, don't you?" she asked. He'd made his stance pretty clear, so he thought maybe she was asking the question more to herself than to him. "You aren't going to try and pressure me into shutting down my shop?"

"No. I know you enjoy it, and you're good at it besides. Hell, I'll invest in it if you'd like. Something tells me your primary investor is having second thoughts anyway." To his amazement, Pansy actually giggled. That had to be a first. Well, a first in his presence at least. He found that he rather liked it.

"I guess having a famous war hero around would be good for business," she said with a smile. It was quite different than the demeaning smirk she often wore when she was mocking him or his friends. This was a genuine, happy smile, one that lit up her face. He'd seen every inch of her naked body, but he didn't think she'd ever looked so beautiful as she did in that moment.

"You two are quite a pair," Lord Parkinson muttered. "But I suppose it isn't all bad. If you behave like this towards each other in public it may silence some of the more ardent opposition from Potter's adoring fans. Still, heirs will be needed, and soon."

"Ever the politician," Harry quipped. "We will discuss having children on our own time. And when I say we, I am referring to myself and my wife. You don't get a say." Parthenios shook his head, a frown further marring his already unpleasant face.

"Your ignorance of our world is understandable, Potter, given the sort of people you surround yourself with." Harry's eyes flashed at the insult to his friends, but the Parkinson patriarch either did not see it or chose to ignore it. "You, Pansy, are a different matter entirely. You were raised to be smarter than this." He gave his daughter the most authoritative stare he could manage, trying to impose his will upon her. She met his stony stare with a haughty smirk.

"Never fear, father," she said in a sickly sweet tone. "You made sure I committed every one of the pureblood ideals to memory."

"Exactly! So why are you disregarding everything you've ever been taught?!" Parthenios was shouting every bit as loudly as Pansy had earlier, and his face had reddened in anger in a manner that reminded Harry of his Uncle Vernon. He was more agitated than Harry had ever seen him but it only served to amuse Pansy, who laughed in his face.

"You taught me that it was my job to do all I could to support the efforts of the Lord of my family." Parthenios nodded furiously, and her smile grew wider. "In case you've forgotten, you're no longer that Lord. I'm not a Parkinson anymore. I'm Pansy Potter-Black now thanks to you, and if my husband tells you that a Potter-Black matter is none of your business, you can damn well bet I'll support that."

--

That night at the Parkinson estate was a turning point for Harry and Pansy. While their relationship was still far from perfect, at least they could truthfully say they had a relationship now. No longer were they residing in the same house yet living separate lives. Yes, their personalities clashed at times, and yes, they got into their share of arguments. But they'd also opened up and learned a lot about each other over the past couple of months.

He'd always thought of Pansy as a vain and self-absorbed individual, and while she could indeed behave that way at times even now, there were many layers to her. She was also exceedingly intelligent and worked very hard as the proprietor of 3P (which had once stood for Pansy Parkinson Potions, and was now starting to thrive after Harry had publicly backed it, giving it a much-needed image boost.)

She was also quite witty. He'd already known this, but it was a refreshing change to have her using that wit to lighten the mood rather than to insult him. They were getting better at reading each other's moods now, and any time he came home after a frustrating day on the job, she seemed to make it her personal mission to make him laugh as often as possible. Without fail he would head up to his bedroom on those nights with a smile on his face, the troubles of the day forgotten.

Six weeks ago, Pansy had asked if she could go with him on one of his visits to the orphanage at Grimmauld Place. He'd hesitantly agreed despite his reservations, but seeing her interact with those kids had been a revelation for him. They warmed up to her very quickly, the girls in particular, and it wasn't long before she was sitting on a couch surrounded by four of them, telling stories and giggling. An adorable 6-year old named Jennifer wound up falling asleep while snuggled up against Pansy's side, and watching his wife smile fondly as she gently stroked the girl's midnight-black hair gave Harry a glimpse into a possible future he'd thought lost to him when he first agreed to marry her. They hadn't discussed the possibility of children since that night at her father's house, but the thought had been on his mind ever since.

Harry set down his book and sat up in bed when he heard the door to Pansy's room open. He couldn't help thinking it odd; by this time of night she was usually fast asleep so she could get an early start at the shop the following morning. Her footsteps padded down the corridor, getting progressively louder until she stopped just outside his door.

"Still awake, Harry?" she asked after a courtesy knock. She herself sounded wide awake and not drowsy in the slightest.

"Yeah, I was just doing a bit of reading. Did you need something?"

Harry looked up as she slowly turned the knob. He started to give her an automatic greeting, but was shocked into silence by what she was wearing. Or not wearing.

"See something you like?" Pansy purred. He nodded dumbly, and she giggled at the effect she was having on him. "Well good. I usually prefer to sleep in something simpler, but a getup like this can be fun at times too, don't you think?"

"Uh huh," he mumbled in mindless agreement. He would later be impressed he'd even managed that much. Her choice of clothing was designed to make his heart race, and it succeeded.

"I think you'd agree that our relationship has been improving day by day," she said calmly, as if she weren't standing there in a tiny pair of panties, stockings, a garter belt...and nothing else. It was an all-black ensemble, which didn't come as a great shock with how fond she was of the color.

"Yes. Definitely." He licked his lips, which were feeling incredibly dry all of a sudden.

"We've really gotten to know each other for the first time," she continued. "I've learned that maybe you aren't quite the pompous bastard I'd always thought you were. And of course you've realized how amazing I am, because how could you not? But an emotional connection is only part of a successful marriage. There's also the physical."

As she said the word physical, Pansy did a quick twirl, revealing that she was actually wearing a thong. He groaned at the fleeting view of her lovely arse cheeks.

"Fuck," he groaned. She smiled devilishly at him and ran her hands up the sides of her slim body teasingly.

"That's the idea." Later he would recall her saying something very similar on their wedding night, but it wasn't said with derision this time. This time there was playfulness and not a little lust in her voice. Harry had been wearing only boxer shorts, but Pansy shook her head when he made to remove them. "Leave those on. Let me have my fun."

He wasn't about to argue with her, not when she was wearing that. He watched, transfixed, as she slowly approached his bed. She motioned for him to lie down flat on his back, and he did as she bade without a word. This earned him a smile and nod of approval from his wife. She stopped once she stood right beside the bed, but made no move to actually get in. He frowned and wondered why she wasn't joining him, but all was forgotten when she bent over and slowly, seductively slipped the thong off. She tossed the undergarment at him, and it hit him in the face. On an impulse, he held the silky material to his face and inhaled. He was nervous for a moment as he thought she might find that strange, but she laughed loudly.

"Did you enjoy that?" she asked with a smile. He blushed slightly but nodded all the same. "Then you'll love this." Without any further ado she climbed onto the bed, shuffled into position and sat on his face.

Though he'd never done it from this position, Harry was no stranger to oral sex. He put his knowledge to good use, licking, rubbing and sucking, paying close attention to how she reacted to particular techniques and adjusting accordingly. In practically no time at all he had Pansy grinding against his face and moaning out in pleasure. It was music to his ears, and if his mouth hadn't been otherwise occupied he would have been smiling widely at coaxing it out of her.

"Merlin, how did you get so good at this?" she asked in between moans. He could have answered that his skill came as a result of frequent and rigorous repetition with both of his previous lovers, Ginny and Padma, but he doubted that mentioning another witch would go over too well at the moment. Rather than give her an answer, he kicked his efforts up a notch. The intensity of her passionate cries increased accordingly.

Harry knew he was rapidly driving Pansy towards the edge, and he was feeling rather smug about it. He briefly considered backing off and leaving her agonizingly short just so he could hear her beg but scrapped that idea quickly. That sort of teasing could wait for another day; right now he wanted to make his wife scream. He gave her clitoris a sharp suck while simultaneously rubbing little circles around it with his thumbs, and got exactly what he wanted. She threw her head back and loosed a series of decidedly unladylike profane screams as her husband brought her to orgasm for the first time.

Knowing that she would now be sensitive, Harry ceased his oral attentions. He idly began caressing the sides of his wife's stocking-clad legs, enjoying the feel of the soft material under his hands. She seemed to like it as well judging by the way she reached down and gave his hair an affectionate ruffle.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked, teasing her by turning her prior words back on her. Rather than snapping at him as she so often used to when he made a joke at her expense, she snorted and gave him a playfully light slap on the cheek.

"Cheeky," she said, smiling down at him fondly. "It's a good thing you're so damn good at that or else I'd have to make you pay." She dismounted his face and flopped onto her side next to him. "Would you like me to return the favor?" He was very much about to say yes, because hello, his wife just offered to give him a blowjob. But then she gave a great yawn and her eyes drooped closed for a moment before she forced them back open.

"You look a little too tired for that right now."

"So I'll take a potion. Seriously Harry, you want this. I'm fucking amazing." He chuckled at her nonchalant arrogance about her skills.

"I'm sure you are, and I know I'm going to love finding out for myself. But it can wait." She shook her head to object, but only halfheartedly. He could see that she was exhausted. "Get some sleep, Pansy. We're married, so it's not like I'm going anywhere. You'll impress me with your fucking amazing blowjobs some other time."

"Damn right I will," she said, but her smug statement was interrupted halfway through by another mighty yawn. "You're right though, I am worn out. Mind if I sleep in here? I really don't feel like walking all the way back to my room, and your bed is surprisingly comfy."

"Be my guest." Pansy smiled at him and stripped off her stockings and garter belt, leaving her completely nude. Harry admired her exposed flesh for a moment, but closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself lest he get so worked up he had to wank before sleeping. He extended his arm in invitation and she happily snuggled into him. She buried her head in his chest and was fast asleep within moments, but he knew he was a bit too excited to follow her just yet.

As he wrapped his arm around Pansy's waist and listened to her steady breathing, he considered all that had happened. Pansy Parkinson was not someone he would have ever imagined having a civil conversation with, so the idea that he'd wind up married to her would have seemed preposterous not so long ago. He still resented her father and the rest of his pureblood supremacist pals for toying with his life--with both of their lives--but the last couple of months had him feeling more optimistic about his life than he could have possibly hoped for when they said their vows. When he thought about what the rest of his life had in store for him, it was no longer with a sense of hopelessness. Now when he pictured spending the rest of his life with Pansy, he imagined sharing her home, sharing her bed, and even raising a family with her one day. The thought made him smile in anticipation.

He would really have to write Parthenios a letter of gratitude one day for gifting him with his daughter's hand in marriage. Even if he was a bigoted bastard.