Unveiling Secrets: A New Path for Harry Potter

{French}

"Just hold me."

It was all he could get out of her, but he accepted her somber mood. He had sort of seen this coming anyway.

The week had flown by faster than he had expected, but he always tried to keep her entertained. Getting a telly set up made that pretty easy. Harry was surprised that Dobby had somehow figured out a way to steal cable- he assumed from the Brightwells downstairs. Since they would only be around for a couple of months during the summer, Harry didn't feel any guilt over it.

He should have known his beautiful dancing girlfriend would get stuck on MTV. Pansy got to experience more new music in a few days than probably the rest of her life in the magical world. Or at least so she claimed. Harry smiled thinking about how she had been dragging him off to the record store almost daily.

Harry didn't get to become much of a music fan with the Dursleys either, so this was a nice treat for him too.

And they (mostly) tended to agree about which bands they liked. True, Pansy did think he liked too many of those damn Yank bands, but Soundgarden rocked and she would never convince him that was a bad thing. She complained that you couldn't dance to it, and he supposed that would matter more to her than him.

Pansy had become immersed in Depeche Mode for the last couple of days. He thought they were okay at first, certainly a couple of songs he liked. But then he heard the song Blue Dress, which she danced to while wearing that blue dress from last summer- the first time they really snogged- and from then on Harry would have to admit they were bloody brilliant. Especially since she was wearing only that blue dress.

As this evening had gotten late though, Pansy had grown quiet. Tomorrow morning, they were to meet her great uncle Malcolm for the trip to France, and Harry had been sadly correct that she needed closure over her mother's death. The few tears he felt against his chest were proof of that. They would also go uncommented on. Pansy had made it clear that she would tell him when she wanted to talk about things, and Harry had sworn not to push ever again since that awful fight last December.

So he just lay there with his arms around her. He hoped it would be enough.

The worry kept him awake. But he also felt her breathing slow, finally, just after noticing his right arm was tired. How long had he been softly running it up and down her back anyway?

Now if only he could relax enough to get some sleep too.

The next morning was stressful as hell for him. Pansy made him change four times before his outfit was up to her standards. Meanwhile, she was stressing over her own appearance as well. How much make up was too much? Or not enough? Should she do something special with her hair? Was she sure that the other black dress wasn't more appropriate for a funeral?

Harry tried to suffer silently. He greatly preferred taking her shopping to this. At least then she was happy, even if he did have to wait for an hour for her to try on half a dozen outfits. This nervous, frantic Pansy was not something he had really had to deal with before.

Noticing the clock striking eleven put him out of his misery. Pansy made three more minor changes before Dobby told miss Pansy that they had to go.

Harry was going to have to thank Dobby for that.

"That wasn't too bad," Pansy said as they landed from the portkey. She had managed to land on her feet, while Harry only had to take a knee as he stumbled a bit on arrival.

"Yes," Malcolm agreed. "Many people think that international port keys would be worse because of the greater distance, but I think the spinning sensation is just the normal part of the magic."

"Someone should try to get rid of that," Harry groaned.

"They'd make a fortune if they could create a smoother method of travel," Pansy added.

"True, but regardless, here we are."

"Bonjour, and welcome to France," a smiling, dark haired woman said as she walked over to them. She was of average height with a slender build. "I'm Camille Durand. You must be Pansy; we're terribly sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

Malcolm introduced himself, then Harry kissed the back of her hand.

"And of course, we have the famous Harry Potter. Thank you for bringing Pansy here."

"Malcolm is the one to thank, as he set all this up. I'm just here to support Pansy." She gave his arm a grateful squeeze.

"You are far too humble for someone of your reputation, Monsieur Potter," Camille smiled. "Do any of you need translation charms?"

"I do," Malcolm said.

"We're fine," Pansy answered.

"Oh?"

"I've been teaching French to Harry," Pansy replied with a small grin.

"Excellent." One quick charm for Malcolm later, and Camille switched languages. {"I was chosen to greet you as my English is better than most of the family."}

{"We appreciate that,"} Harry said. {"I assumed the funeral service would be in French, hence why Pansy started teaching me."}

{"That was smart of the two of you."}

{"I should have thought of something like that,"} Malcolm chuckled. {"Thank you for thinking of the charm, Mademoiselle Durand. I was more focused on the travel arrangements."}

{"Think nothing of it, Monsieur Parkinson. We are grateful that Pansy was able to come. There were some in the family that worried she would be unavailable."}

Harry noticed a brief glance in his direction, but said nothing of it.

Camille then led them over to the gathered family and three rows of chairs arranged before the grave. Harry noticed that most of the guests were female. A particularly tall older woman was looking keenly at them as they approached.

{"Auntie Evangeline?"}

{"Pansy, darling, I'm glad you remembered me. It has been far too long. Malcolm,"} she said with a nod. Harry noticed that she had dark greenish hazel eyes that were very similar to Pansy's but otherwise her features were only vaguely familiar. {"And you must be the one and only Harry Potter. We have heard many stories and rumors of your deeds."}

{"I would guess few of them were true,"} he answered. {"Some of the newer ones perhaps, depending upon how competent your press may be."}

{"I was more interested in the ones having to do with my family. Pansy's grandmother, Amelie, was my favorite cousin. Unfortunately, mostly due to that bastard Edmund, I have not seen either Dahlia or Pansy since Amelie's death.

{"It was fascinating to hear of you claiming Pansy,"} Harry saw the fierce expression, but did not blink at her tone. {"It became even more of a wonder after what happened with Dahlia and Edmund. One might think you two planned it out in advance."}

Harry blinked but did not respond. He had been stared down by the likes of Dumbledore and McGonagall for years now- he was used to this sort of thing. Evangeline looked over to Pansy and he saw her flinch. It was small but out of character for her, and that worried Harry. Today was already getting to her. He hoped he would be enough to help her weather the day's events.

{"Regardless, it is good that you were able to save her from that Death Eater filth. A shame that you couldn't save her mother as well, but from what I had seen of Dahlia, I'm afraid she was lost to us years ago.

{"Enough of that now. Come and sit with me, child."}

The older woman took Pansy's other arm and led her (and Harry) to the front row of seats. He remembered his manners quickly enough to help both of them to sit, and Pansy was now between two people that cared for her. It gave him a bit of hope that this wouldn't be as awkward as the trip to his parents' graves.

Malcolm followed them and sat next to Harry. The older man patted Harry on the shoulder as he sat down next to him. It was a small gesture, but he appreciated it. Despite the ingrained paranoia they both sometimes felt, Pansy was warming to Malcolm, which meant Harry was as well. It was nice to have an adult other than Sam, who was friendly but still an employee, that they felt like they might be able to count on.

The Brightwells were wonderful people, but to Harry it was like they belonged to another part of his life. In the regular world, he and Pansy had to hide both more (everything magical) and less (their relationship) and because of that, Harry felt at times a bit schizophrenic. Only when they were alone did he really feel...

What exactly? Normal? Relaxed? Sane? He wasn't sure what to call it. Much better than the usual deceptions.

A priest stepped to the front of the grave as the rest of the crowd settled down into seats, drawing Harry's attention. Pansy had been listening to the whispering voice of "auntie" Evangeline, and he had allowed his mind to wander as he tried to respect their privacy.

The garb was a bit different from what Harry had seen of the British clergy. Later, he would realize that it was because the priest was Catholic.

{"Thank you all for coming today,"} he began. {"It has been years since I have seen some of you, and less than a week for others. In all cases, it is both a sorrow and a blessing for us to be gathered here today.

{"A blessing that so many could come together to remember the life of our beloved Dahlia, while at the same time a sorrow for us to have to mourn her passing all too soon. Years ago, I was honored by my old friend Amelie and her husband Stephen to be allowed to baptize their daughter. Dahlia Giselle Monroe may have been born in England, but a part of her heart always belonged here in France with us. The bigger part, obviously."}

The joke brought a few chuckles, even a small one from Pansy. Harry ruefully thought that she would have been better off if more of her mother's heart had been in England with her daughter. But then again, maybe there had been too much trauma done over the years of being married to a Death Eater. If only the damn ministry had done their jobs, Pansy could have grown up with a mother that could focus on her.

{"I was also there for her confirmation. Dahlia was a kind-hearted girl, if a bit small for her age. She was smart, and I still remember her telling me how excited she was to be going to Hogwarts. Our parish had been mixed for decades, and I still feel blessed to have known so many good people with the ability to do magic. Some of my faith would never say such a thing, never admit it even if it were true. Witchcraft is always evil according to many.

{"I notice many of you smirking at the fact that it is almost always denigrated as witchcraft more so than magic. I'm sure I don't have to tell you good ladies the history of women alone being blamed for the sins of magic users. The dark witch is still a much more common idea than the dark wizard, even though the vast majority of those who followed both of the monsters of this century were men.

{"Thankfully, few of ours were lost to either period of darkness. But our small community has been different for centuries. I'd like to believe that the fellowship of our church has helped bring us together. If things had been different, maybe Dahlia could have been more involved with us. I still remember the joy in her eyes when she would come back to us in the summers. She would talk to several of you about your schools, and I still remember having to break up an argument between her and Mademoiselle Lalaurie over the merits of Hogwarts compared to Beauxbatons. Even though I may have been partial to our own school, it was not something the two girls needed to fight over. After all, Dahlia could not be blamed for having a British father."}

Again there were a few chuckles, and Harry thought he liked this priest more than he had expected he would.

{"Alas, I saw much less of her after her father's death. Strange that it was an Englishman's loss that drove her away from our home. But maybe we can see now why that large part of her heart was left behind here while she suffered under the darkness of that cowardly piece of filth.

{"No offense meant to our guests from across the channel, but it has always angered me that a British wizard would butcher our language to come up with his pseudonym. He couldn't even pronounce it properly. And still today they fear this foolishness,"} the priest let out a very impolite snort, and that was the thing that finally made Harry chuckle. He couldn't agree more. {"Even in France, we felt some of the pain during those days. We were not without our own losses, after all, but we were lucky in comparison to our neighbors.

{"If only the dark times had ended with the fall of that madman, but now we know that at least some of his followers bribed and lied their way to freedom. Monsieur Potter's miraculous survival may have stopped the leader of that darkness, but now we know that the lesser shadows were able to hide their evil deeds. The peace was restored to magical Britain, but now we know that behind closed doors, the darkness was still claiming victims.

{"And sadly, Dahlia became one of those victims. We can only be thankful that her daughter Pansy was not lost as well. The British may have been thankful for Monsieur Potter's survival all those years ago, but today I am thankful that he may be responsible for Pansy's survival. Even though she was not born here, we all claim her as part of our own. Know that you will always be welcome here child, for you are family to us all."}

Harry could see a lone tear running down her cheek, and he was, for just a moment, envious of her. It passed though, and he felt grateful that so many cared for her.

{"Dahlia was lost to us for many years, but now she has come home to France. May we all some day rejoice when we see her again. May her soul and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace."}

A moment of silence swept over the mourners as Evangeline stood and used her wand to lower the coffin into the grave. In a matter of seconds, not only was the hole filled in with dirt but grass also spread out covering it. You would not be able to tell that it was a fresh grave. It was the sort of thing that Harry saw the others taking for granted but he found amazing.

The next twenty or thirty minutes were a blur of activity. The priest came over and spoke to Pansy, offering slightly more private condolences, and he was only the first of many. Malcolm was nearby, and the two British men received a few words of thanks for bringing Pansy to them. They were welcomed somewhat warmly as guests, but only Pansy was family.

Evangeline was keeping a close eye on them though, and Harry noticed her expression soften a bit as he stood by Pansy's side through it all. He had an idea that her family, or at least some of it, could see through them more clearly than the magic users back in England.

He also noticed that there were a couple of words of French that slipped through his mind during the conversations- and that they were the same words that Pansy had to ask about as well. He supposed it was a flaw in the charm they had used. Harry had learned French directly from Pansy's mind, and that meant he now possessed the exact same vocabulary that she had known at the moment she cast the spell. Regardless, it was enough for them to be able to almost completely fluent.

As the family gathering began to break up, Harry noticed one witch standing off to the side. She had long auburn hair and would have been roughly the same age as Pansy's mother. She seemed to be waiting for a bit more privacy, and sure enough, once all but Evangeline had wished them well, she stepped over to join them.

{"Pansy, let me introduce you to Genevieve Lalaurie. Malcolm, if you have a moment, I believe our younger kin need a moment to themselves."} The older witch took Malcolm's arm and they strode away.

"We may speak in English if you two don't mind," Genevieve began.

"As you wish," Pansy answered. "Is there something secret you wish to speak about?"

"It is nothing secret so much as potentially... shall we say, embarrassing?"

"For you?"

"For all of us possibly," Genevieve responded with a hint of a smile. "As was hinted about by the priest, you aren't the only one to have lost close family to the Dark Lord.

"I hadn't seen your mother since the day of your parents' wedding. I had thought of warning Dahlia away from Edmund as even then I knew what he was. It probably was too late to save her from him, but I suppose you also would not be here if I had."

"You knew he was a Death Eater?"

"I did."

"How?"

"It's a bit of a story. My father was a cold and merciless man, which did not lead to the most pleasant of childhoods. Although, I suppose I don't have to tell you much about that, do I?"

Pansy merely raised an eyebrow in response, and after a moment, Genevieve continued.

"My twin sister Jeanette was always somewhat more affected by our father's behavior. As the years went on, what drove me towards solitude and loneliness drove Jeanette to madness and the darker paths of magic. And that led her to joining the Dark Lord.

"Our father would have been proud, if he had still been alive. But Jeanette had killed him by then, and I can hardly tell you how thankful I felt. I failed my sister in the end, and I will always regret that all the more because of the debt I owed her for ridding me of him. It was the summer before our final year at Beauxbatons, and with my coming of age, you can probably imagine the type of man he would have arranged for me to marry.

"That was actually what drove Jeanette to kill him. She had a boy that was not up to our father's standards, and so he killed him. Or, more likely, he had him killed. He would not have bothered to dirty his hands with the killing of someone so insignificant as a peasant boy that my poor sister had taken a liking to.

"My sister was never the same though. Within a couple of years, she was gone. Off to England to follow this Brit with a fake French name. And within another couple of years, she was dead."

"I'm sorry," Pansy murmured as Genevieve looked away, composing herself.

"Merci," Genevieve replied. "At the time, I was seeing a man, nothing too serious. Not that Louis wasn't interested in being something more, but I had long ago built a wall around myself. He tried to comfort me when my sister died, and that led me to pushing him away.

"I was such a damn fool. Hearing about your mother and Edmund finally made me realize that, in a strange way. I was reminded by my lost British cousin's death. You see, I hadn't been doing much living of my own.

"Anyone who isn't blind can see there's something between you two," she finished as she looked between Harry and Pansy. "I know Evangeline saw it as well, and I suppose that's why she wanted me to talk to you. For your sake, Pansy, I hope you can learn from my mistake. I took someone who could have loved me for granted when I needed him most.

"You two are hiding what you are, and I can understand that what with Monsieur Potter's fame. But never take each other for granted. If he can help you, let him in. I wish someone had told me that all those years ago. I wasted a decade being alone and have only started trying to fix that mistake this last year. Of course, it was too late for me to find Louis- he had married and had two beautiful children since I last saw him. Thankfully, I might have found another decent man recently, but a part of me will always wonder what could have been."

"I don't take Harry for granted," Pansy insisted.

"I hope not. It is obvious how much he cares for you. Even as we speak, he instinctively pulls you close."

Harry realized she was right, as his arm had gone around Pansy's waist.

"I have no regrets for the things I have done; I only regret the things I was too afraid to do.

"If I had stood up to our father, maybe I could have protected my sister. If I had killed him, perhaps she could have found love with her stable boy. If I hadn't been such a coward, I could have married Louis and had those beautiful children with him. Do not let your fear push away the best parts of your life."

"I won't," Pansy answered in a quiet voice.

"I still say Dahlia would have been better off at Beauxbatons."

Genevieve started to laugh, and Pansy blinked in surprise before joining her.

"You were the one the priest joked about fighting with my mother?"

"We were both argumentative girls. And it was easy to infuriate Dahlia by telling her everything in France was better. The school, the food, the boys," she chuckled. "She was a year older than me, but I always knew how to push her buttons. I'm your third cousin, I believe. I can never remember how the once removed, twice removed thing goes. Dahlia was my second cousin, once removed. Grand-mere Evangeline made sure I remembered that before the funeral.

"As for you, Harry Potter," Genevieve said as she stared him down. "Take good care of my cousin. Or else."

"Believe me, I plan on it."

"Good. Now, you are officially invited to my home if you need a place to stay after the funeral. I'm sure grand-mere will offer as well."

"Actually, we're planning on going to Paris tonight," Pansy replied.

"Ah, young love. So, he is taking good care of you then?" Genevieve smirked at Pansy who grinned in response. "Excellent. Then for today, I bid you both adieu."

"Adieu, cousin, and merci beaucoup."

"Bonne chance, Harry Potter. I have a feeling you will need it."

"Thank you, madame," he replied.

They watched her walk away and Pansy then bid her auntie Evangeline farewell, while Harry explained to Malcolm that they would not need to join him for the trip back home as they were going to spend some time in France on vacation.

Once they were alone, Harry nodded over to the grave that Pansy was staring at.

"Do you want me to say something? That's what you did for me."

"No, just give me a minute."

"Alright."

Pansy took Harry's arm again and they stepped over right in front of the headstone. He looked to the side and noticed that Dahlia was buried next to her parents.

"I'm surprised your grandparents were buried here."

"My grandfather died fighting the Death Eaters. Grand-mere was afraid they might desecrate his grave, so she brought him here to her home. Her parents are buried just a bit further to the east." Harry watched as her finger pointed off to another headstone.

"That makes sense."

Pansy became quiet then, and Harry went with her as she knelt down. The stone had her buried under her maiden name- Dahlia Giselle Monroe- and he thought that was fitting considering how her marriage had ended. 'Daughter, Mother, Friend' it read, with no mention of wife.

Harry once again wished that Edmund hadn't gone free after Voldemort's downfall. Pansy deserved a better childhood than what she'd had.

They waited in silence. Once they were alone, Pansy began to speak.

"I learned of your death months ago, mother. Before we even knew for sure. Harry wouldn't say it, but when you and Leddy disappeared, we both knew what had happened.

"For awhile, I tried to not care. It wasn't as hard as you might think. How many years had it been since it seemed like you cared? It felt like everything I remembered about you was disappointment, sadness, and loathing. What was wrong with you? Why couldn't you have tried to love me?"

Harry saw the tears flowing freely now, but he could not interrupt. He just held on and hoped his presence was some comfort.

"What was wrong with me? Wasn't I good enough? That's what I wondered for so long. Until a year ago, roughly. By then, I had Harry, and since I knew that I had lost you long ago, I was planning on leaving you to be with him. Within days of meeting him, or at least getting to know him, he was doing more for me than you had done in so long.

"I didn't regret leaving you with father. You didn't stand up for me against him, so why should I have bothered to stand up for you? Even once we knew for sure you were dead, I still wouldn't let myself care. Why should I mourn someone that had given up on me long ago?"

Harry felt her squeeze his hand as she paused. He turned to her and Pansy grabbed him with her other hand and brought him down for a kiss.

"I have this wonderful, sweet guy who puts up with me without too much complaining, and you know what? You were the cause of our biggest fight. He tried to get me to open up about you, and I yelled at him. All he wanted was to help me, and I pushed him away. I guess I learned it from you, from years of being pushed away.

"He was so cute and pitiful afterward. At least the make up sex was great," she chuckled and took a deep breath.

"I was wrong not to let Harry in. I learned it from you, like most of my bad habits. You never let me in. I doubt you ever let father in, either, although I can't say I blame you for that. But from now on, I'm going to try to let him help me. Every time I start to do something you would have done, I'm going to try to remember how bitter and awful your life ended up being. I will not let myself fail the way you did. I deserve better than that. Harry deserves better too."

She looked around for a moment, making sure they were alone. Then, in a hushed voice, she continued.

"Harry killed father for me. He loves me and he hated him for hurting me. He made him pay. And he got a sort of justice for you too. I didn't think I cared about that for months.

"But this spring, I realized I was wrong. Once again, it was thanks to Harry, at least in a round about way. He let me in- he told me what the dementors did to him. It takes a certain kind of bravery to be that open, to allow yourself to be vulnerable, and it's definitely not something I'm comfortable with. But if I'm ever going to be able to do that, it will be with him. He has the right to see me when I'm weak after all he's done for me.

"It scares the hell out of me, but I'm going to try.

"That night, I sang him to sleep. I didn't really understand everything I was feeling, but I knew what I needed to do for him; maybe it was enough. So I sang to him. Do you remember, 'A la clair fontaine,' mum? I remembered you singing that to me when I was little. I dreamt of you and that lullaby. It was so vivid, but I'm not sure if it was real. Did you at least love me then? Or was that just something I wanted so badly that it was all a dream?"

"It was real," Harry said firmly.

"You can't know that," Pansy argued in a shaky voice.

"Your mother may have been broken and bitter by the time she died, but there's no way she didn't love you when you were young. You're far too wonderful. You were just her beautiful little girl. I refuse to believe she didn't love you."

"Maybe," Pansy sighed. "I've often thought that it was the still birth of what would have been my brother that crushed the life out of her. I know I heard father be cruel to her about it on more than one occasion."

"That I can believe."

"You see, mum. Harry didn't even know you, but he's sticking up for you now for my sake. He knows it will make me feel better, and he's right. It's scary, sometimes, how well he knows me. Of course, we have lived together for almost a year, and we've both been a bit clingy. But that's okay. It seems to work for us, and after all we've been through, being inseparable is hardly the worst thing we could be.

"Anyway, we survived a year together on our own. That's got to be a good sign. I'm a lot better off than I was before Harry. Father would have probably signed me away to some vile little worm like Malfoy. Harry, on the other hand, took out that disgusting wretch for me. I think I made the right choice," she chuckled.

"I hope you're happy for me, mum."

Harry let the silence stretch on for a minute, making sure that Pansy didn't need to let anything else out.

"We never got to know each other, Dahlia. I'd like to think you would have liked me, or at least liked how I treat your daughter. And I just wanted to tell you that you don't need to worry about her anymore. I swear to you that I will always do everything I can for Pansy. She probably saved my life by getting me away from the Dursleys. She definitely at least saved my sanity. And she loves me. Your daughter is the most precious thing in the world to me, and I won't let anything get in the way of our lives together."

"Thank you for talking me into coming here today, Harry."

"I'm happy to be of service, my love."

"I think this has been enough for one day," Pansy said as she shifted. Harry stood and held out his hand to help her up just as her stomach began to rumble. "Besides, we clearly need to go eat."

"I did try to talk you into eating something this morning," Harry teased.

"I was too nervous, and you know it. Now I have plenty of room for a late lunch anyway, and I expect we'll find a most wonderful little cafe somewhere in Paris."

"If that's what you want, I'm sure we will."

"Dobby knows just the place, miss Pansy," the ever-excited elf announced as he faded into view.

"And I may have had our friend do a little scouting before we came to France."

"See, mum, Harry's so thoughtful that I don't even have to train him sometimes," Pansy said with one last look down at the grave.

"Alright, Dobby, take us to Paris."

Harry felt strangely sophisticated eating with Pansy at the little sidewalk cafe. Of all the people in the world, he would have never believed he could be doing something so cosmopolitan. Vernon would be rolling over in his grave at the thought- not just sitting there in the center of the land of 'frogs' but speaking their language and eating their food. It almost made him want to take a picture to show his worthless bastard of an uncle. Maybe Dobby would feel up to a little mischief later?

Unfortunately, after the meal, Pansy's mood began to falter. Harry had a lot of experience with brooding, and he could hardly blame her after the funeral. Walking hand in hand through the streets of Paris, taking in the sights, that would normally be the type of romantic thing he thought she would love, but today it just wasn't in the cards. The question was what to do about it.

When they got to the hotel for the night, Harry got his answer.

And it was not at all what he expected.

She burst into tears just as he closed the door.

Harry moved to wrap his arms around her, but Pansy pushed him away.

Then she began quickly taking her clothes off.

"Well, Harry? Aren't you going to fuck me now?" she asked, seemingly mindless of her own weeping. There was something unusual about the look in her eyes though.

"Isn't that what it always comes down to? Sex? You don't bring a girl to Paris just to hold her fucking hand," Pansy growled as she threw aside her bra.

Then it clicked for him.

Before she could slip off her underwear, Harry grabbed her wrists and pushed her down on the bed. He started to kiss her and she responded by biting his lip.

"Did I say I wanted tenderness? Are you going to fuck me or not?"

His hand roughly grasped her through the panties. She was not wet, and no matter what she might say, that was not what a good thing. He stepped back for a moment and removed his own clothes as quickly as he could. By then she was nude, still crying, and her legs were spread wide.

He fondled one breast while sucking at the other nipple. His right hand went lower and he slid a finger inside her.

"You don't need to-"

"Shut up," he cut her off. "I'm going to enjoy you, and you can either like it or be quiet."

Harry pulled back briefly, and saw that despite the tears, she was pleased. He hoped he was doing this right.

He moved her thighs further apart and licked her slit up and down twice before shoving his tongue as far inside her as he could. Her body was starting to respond; as his tongue wriggled, so did he feel her writhe. Her hands were pulling at him though, trying to draw him away.

She didn't want pleasure.

Or at least, not the type he usually knew how to give her.

He looked at her expression, both eager and miserable, and he didn't know if he could do it.

"Turn around."

She did as she was told, and he felt his own tension decrease, just as he could see a shiver go down her spine.

"Show me."

When she paused he spanked her bum hard enough to leave a pink hand print.

"Now."

She followed his command then, reaching back with both hands to spread herself open to him. That was enough to bring him to focus more fully on the moment, letting the worries and distractions fall away.

He knelt behind her and thrust inside. She wasn't as wet as he was used to, but it still felt nice- he belonged inside her.

She let out a gasp and it was a brief reminder. He grabbed her hair near the back of her neck and pulled. There was a sob that he answered by spanking her again.

"Harder," she begged.

He wasn't sure if she meant the spanking or the hair pulling. So he did both. The crying was now interspersed with moans and whimpers.

Harry's pace increased.

"Harder."

He slapped her arse again, and pulled her up by the hair while turning her head a bit. He could still see the tears running down her face, so he sucked at her neck. Her skin tasted salty as she was really starting to sweat.

He leaned back after spanking her one more time and saw how red her right butt cheek was. His hand stung a bit so he could only imagine how she felt. He switched hands, his left going down to spank her while his right went up to pull her hair.

He could feel his own arousal spiking; he knew he was close. He grabbed her breasts and pinched her nipples just as he came.

Pansy let out a shriek, and startlingly, he felt her climax as well.

They moved together and rode out the end of their orgasms, then collapsed on the bed.

Pansy curled onto her side and Harry spooned in behind her.

"Thank you."

She pulled his arm around her and held it to her breast.

"No more words now. Just hold me."