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Harry Potter and the Whore of Slytherin Chapter 7

"The Burrow!" Hermione Granger said clearly, as she tossed a handful of Floo Powder into the fireplace and stuck her head in.

"Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley asked, obviously startled to see her. "Is something wrong?"

"Everything's fine," Hermione said. "My parents arranged to have our fireplace hooked up to the Floo, so that I could visit you without being away from home all summer. Is Ginny free?"

Mrs. Weasley looked startled, and then said, nervously, "I'm afraid Ginny isn't here. She's... she's staying with an ill relative this summer, to help make sure they're all right."

Hermione's face was impassive as thoughts spun in her head, connecting up patterns. Ginny being called to the Headmaster's office, and letting slip that her mother was there. A muttered comment about 'the whore', whoever that was. The way she'd looked at Harry at King's Cross. Mrs. Weasley's nervousness at an innocent question.

Something was up, but she couldn't quite put the pieces together.


"Oh, I hope they're all right," she said. "Could I get the Floo address for where she is, then? I'll just give her a call there."

"Oh!" Mrs. Weasley said. "He doesn't... that is, it wouldn't be a good idea to have a lot of visitors."


One more piece of the puzzle.

She almost had the pattern; she could feel it, just out of reach, taunting her. Almost.

"Oh," she said. "Well, is Ron around? I thought I'd go ahead and try to get him started on his summer homework. You know how he is; if I left it up to him, he'd be doing it as the Express pulled into Hogsmeade."

She'd expected Mrs. Weasley to be relieved at the change of subject, but if anything, she became more uncomfortable.

"Ah," she said. "As to that... I'm afraid he's not... available right now." Mrs. Weasley looked undecided. "I... I don't want to overstep my bounds, dear, but I've thought you might be, well, interested in Ron for a while. He... oh, I shouldn't have said anything, but I don't want you to be hurt. He's just discovered he has the Gift, and Luna is going to be helping him, and... well...."

It hurt more than she would have expected. Luna? Ron had chosen Luna over her? Why? He didn't even like Luna!

But then, a troublesome little voice whispered, he doesn't really like you, does he? The way he always puts down everything you like?

"Oh," she said, trying to keep the hurt from showing. From the look on Mrs. Weasley's face, however, she thought she hadn't succeeded very well. "Well. Could you tell me where to send an owl to Ginny, and I'll just write her a letter?"

"Ah," Mrs. Weasley began. "It's not really a good idea to be sending a lot of owls right now, is it? What with everything going on?"

And with that, everything fell into place. They hadn't been warned about writing to anyone but Harry the previous summer, and the instant she thought about that, everything became clear. She knew where Ginny was. What she didn't know was why.

"Mrs. Weasley?" she asked. "Could I come through? I need to talk to you."

Harry would have been startled when he stepped back into his room, had he been capable of it. As it was, he felt mild surprise at the changes. The room was at least three times larger than it had been, with another bed over in one corner, and his bed had been replaced by a close replica of a Hogwarts bed.

He didn't have time to ponder the changes, however, because as soon as the door closed behind him, Parkinson dropped to her knees in front of him, the tip of her wand pressed to her forehead.

"I swear on my magic," she said, "That everything I shall do this summer shall be to the benefit of Harry James Potter, and I am not, in any way, working for the Dark Lord or those who share his ideals. I further swear that I, Pansy Elenore Parkinson, do hereby subordinate my magic and my life to Harry James Potter, until such time as he does choose to release me from this vow."

Even through his exhaustion, he was shocked. "Why?" he asked, trying to understand her actions through the fog that filled his brain. "Why would you do that?"

"Because you needed to know you could trust me," Pansy said. "And so did she. You need to know that this isn't a trap, or a trick, or a plot."

"I don't understand," he said, still staring at her.

"Sit down, and I'll explain," she said.

He did so, and was surprised when she again knelt in front of him. "You need a reason to live, something that doesn't hurt. I'm it."

His surprise turned to shock as she pulled her shirt over her head, revealing that she wasn't wearing a bra. The sight of soft, pink nipples on her breasts left him speechless, and captivated his attention to the point that he didn't realize she'd taken off her skirt until she threw it across the room.

He tried not to look, knowing that a gentleman wouldn't, but he didn't have the energy not to. He'd seen a couple of the magazines Dean and Seamus smuggled in, so he knew what girls looked like, but this was... completely different. For one thing, all the girls in those magazines were shaved down there, and Pansy, he realized, his cheeks reddening, was not.

He didn't know what to do, or say, but his indecision was dispelled when Pansy leaned forward and unzipped his jeans.

"I'm quite good at this," she said, before lowering her head.

Hermione was rather glad to find, once she was at the Burrow, that Ron and Luna had left for Luna's house a few minutes before she fire-called. She didn't think she could have stood the sight of them together, not just yet.

"Mrs. Weasley?" she asked, as she sat down at the table. "Would you mind putting up some soundproofing charms? I don't want anyone to hear, and, well, I know the house is empty, but the twins...."

Mrs. Weasley looked startled, but nodded. "Those boys... wasting their time on that silly shop, and those jokes! If they'd just applied themselves...." She shook her head, and began charming the room. "There, dearie. Why don't you tell me what's wrong while I make us some tea?"

Hermione hesitated. She wasn't certain where to begin. Perhaps....

"Mrs. Weasley?" she asked. "Could I say something that... well, it's really none of my business, but... I don't want you to get hurt, and...."

Mrs. Weasley looked at her curiously. "What is it, dearie?"

"I know you just want to protect us," Hermione said. "But you can't. I've known since the day I met them that my life would be irrevocably bound up with Harry and Ron. I don't know how I knew, but I did. That Halloween, with the troll... that sealed it. I'll follow Harry to Hell, if that's what it takes, and so will Ron. Ginny's the same way. I know you think we're just children, but we're not. Not after this year. Not after first year, for Harry. Ginny hasn't been a child since her first year, not really. You can't protect us, and you can't stop us from following him. And... if you try, you'll just push us away. It would hurt Ron and Ginny if that happened, but Harry... it would devastate Harry. You're the closest thing to a Mother he's ever had, and if doing what he has to do estranges him...."

Mrs. Weasley regarded her steadily, before letting out a long sigh as she set the teacups on the table. "I know," she said, sadly. "I tried all last summer to protect you, and I failed. I sent you off to Hogwarts, thinking you would be safe, and that... that... woman! How dare she!"

She took a deep breath. "I know I can't protect you, and I can't stop you. I just don't want you to get hurt, any of you. You know I think of you like a daughter, don't you, Hermione? I'd honestly hoped that Ron... well."

"I know," Hermione said. "Honestly, I'd always expected that I'd end up with either Ron or Harry. But from what you've said, he's with Luna, and with Ginny spending the summer with Harry—"

The crash of Mrs. Weasley's cup hitting the floor interrupted her. "Wh-what do you mean?" Mrs. Weasley said, weakly.

Hermione gave her a weak smile. "I know where Ginny is. I just don't know why." She sighed. "That's part of what I needed to talk to you about."

"I don't understand," Mrs. Weasley said, worried. "I know I didn't say anything. Did she tell you? She wasn't supposed to tell anyone...."

Hermione shook her head. "That's the other thing I need to talk to you about. Does the Sorting Hat ever make a mistake?"

Mrs. Weasley blinked. "What? No, dearie, not that I know. Why?"

"Because I'm a bloody coward, that's why, and it's my fault Sirius is dead!"

Harry was sure now that he was dreaming. He had to be. He'd seen the pictures in the magazines, but somehow he'd never expected it to happen to him. Pansy's mouth was soft, and warm, and her tongue was swirling around him like nothing he'd ever dreamed of.

He'd been soft when she pulled him out, even with her naked body in front of him, but it took only a few seconds for her to have him fully erect, and only a few seconds after that for his orgasm to hit, without warning.

He knew you were supposed to warn a girl when she was doing that, at least according to Seamus and Dean, but he didn't have a chance. Instead of choking, or pulling away, as he would have expected from their tales, she simply smiled and swallowed, never taking her eyes off of him.

Finally, he shuddered, as her tongue became too much for his sensitive shaft, and pushed her away.

"Th-thank you," he said, finally, awkwardly. What were you supposed to say to a girl who essentially made herself your slave, then all but pushed you down on your bed and did that without warning?

She smiled. "You're welcome. If you want, I'll do it again when you've recovered. Or... we can do other things. We can do whatever you want. I promise."

He didn't know what to say. There ought to be something he should say, something he should do, but exhaustion pressed down on him, and he couldn't think.

"Right now," Ginny said, and he reddened, realizing that she had been in the room with them, watching them, that she'd seen that. "Right now, I think he needs some sleep."

Pansy nodded. "She's right. You do. Raise up." He did, not having the energy to argue, and she tugged his jeans down. "Take off your shirt and crawl under the covers," she said. "I'll be here when you wake up."

He ought to do... something. There was something he was supposed to do at a time like this, but he couldn't think of what it was, and he was so tired...

The last thing he remembered, as he felt the sheet being drawn up over him, was Ginny's voice saying, "Pansy? I... I'd like to talk about what you offered."