Title: That'll Show Them
Author: woldy
Characters/Pairings: Ginny/Pansy
Rating: R
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Exhibitionism
Other Warnings: None
Word Count: ~3,300 words
Summary: She leaned in to kiss Pansy again, slowly, possessively. Her hand curled in the small of Pansy's back, and she hoped that anybody who didn't like it would choke.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to the lovely mindabbles for the last-minute beta; any remaining mistakes are, of course, my own.



In retrospect, it was hard to say when Ginny's exhibitionist streak started. Given her family history, what with Bill and Percy being Head Boys at Hogwarts, Charlie being a Quidditch star, the twins exploding everything in sight, and Ron making friends with Harry Potter, you could argue that Ginny has been fighting for her share of parental attention since birth.

That explanation was easy, but too simple. Ginny was never tempted to fuck Harry in public - not that he'd have agreed to it - so there's more to this than sibling rivalry. Being gay, or at least coming out in the hostile atmosphere of the wizarding world, is another part of the puzzle.

For all that Ginny's adolescent fantasies revolved around marrying Harry Potter, she hadn't realised other people expected it of her until the media descended in a storm of disapprobation: "Chosen One - Jilted!"; "The girl who spurned the Boy Who Lived! Rita Skeeter gets the exclusive story!"; "Lesbian Quidditch Scandal! Steamy pics on page 4!".

"I thought you and Harry were made for each other," her mum had said, with a sniff of disapproval, putting pay to any ideas Ginny might have had about having her family's support.

"If it makes you happy, then I'm happy," dad had told her, taking off his glasses and rubbing them absentmindedly with the corner of his shirt. "Although I've never been clear about what lesbians actually...well...do." At that point, Ginny made hasty excuses to leave.

"As long as you don't, y'know, flaunt it, then I don't care," had been Ron's response. "I don't want to see my sister on the front page of the Prophet every day."

Ginny stifled the urge to retort: "flaunt it like you did with Lavender, you mean?" or "and do you blame Harry when reporters follow him around?".

"I'll remember that," she promised.

A week later, when Quidditch Weekly published pictures of Ginny with her tongue down the throat of one of the Kestrels Chasers, she smiled at the thought of Ron red-faced and spluttering over his breakfast.

Even taking account of Ginny's gay pride, there was a piece of the puzzle missing. If she had to pinpoint the moment that her exhibitionism started, a single incident that set it off, then Ginny would say it was the first time she and Pansy went to Diagon Alley.

From the moment Ginny walked into the The Leaky Cauldron, people turned to stare.

"You should be ashamed to show your face in public!" one man called from the corner, and Ginny felt Pansy's hand tremble against her fingers.

She entwined her fingers more tightly with Pansy's, and quickened her pace. As they stepped out into the courtyard, Pansy drew a shuddering breath beside her.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I'm not afraid of a few narrow-minded busybodies," Ginny said, tapping the wall firmly with her wand, and the bricks rearranged themselves to reveal Diagon Alley.

Ginny turned to Pansy, who was pale and tight-lipped, and on impulse she leaned in to press a kiss to the side of Pansy's mouth.

Even over the bustle of shoppers, Ginny heard the shocked intake of breath.

"Well, really!" a man said loudly, and there was a sound of footsteps hurrying away.

Ginny pulled back from the kiss to find everyone in Diagon Alley staring at them. A woman across the street was standing amidst a heap of boxes and shopping bags, their contents scattered across the road. A small group of children near Fortescue's were standing with their mouths open, and Ginny heard one of them whisper, "It's her, innit? The one who tried to kill Potter!"

Ginny narrowed her eyes, lifted her chin, and wrapped her arm around Pansy's shoulders.

"Does anybody have anything to say to me?" she demanded, scanning the street.

Most people looked away hastily, and the whispering child ducked behind one of his friends. The woman who'd dropped her shopping bent to collect her parcels, but Ginny could see the flush on her cheeks.

Ginny waited in silence, looking from one person to the next with a gaze that almost dared them to speak.

"Come on, Pansy," she said, when it became clear nobody would say anything. "They're not worth our time."

They walked slowly along the centre of Diagon Alley, Ginny's arm tight around Pansy's waist, and Ginny tried to ignore the way people muttered about Death Eaters and hurried aside as they passed. Ginny half-expected an attack at any moment, body tensed and wand ready in her hand. By the midpoint of the street, Ginny was ready to curse the first person who so much as glared at them. Being in the middle of the wizarding world's busiest road made for an effective public statement, but she hadn't considered how much it made them a target.

"D'you want a coffee?" Ginny asked, as they neared Isobel Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

"All right," Pansy said quietly, her eyes flickering nervously towards the shopkeeper.

The shop was warm, brightly lit, and the Weird Sisters was playing on the radio, but the moment they stepped inside the atmosphere of hospitality seemed to melt away.

"I'm afraid we're too busy to serve you at the moment," the woman behind the counter said stiffly, her eyes fixed on Pansy's face.

"My family have come here all my life," said Ginny, raising her chin. "When did our money stop being good enough for you?"

"Please lower your voice."

"When will you stop being too busy, then?" Ginny retorted.

"There's no need to be so confrontational, Miss Weasley. If you return another time then we may be able to accommodate you."

"What do you mean if Ireturn?"

"Ginny, don't," said Pansy. "You should just come back."

"Miss Weasley, I really must--"

"If Harry had a problem with me dating Pansy then he'd have raised that with me. He doesn't need idiots like you trying to show your loyalty."

"You're disturbing our other customers," the shopkeeper said coldly. "Please leave."

"Yeah, I think I'd better," Ginny replied, narrowing her eyes, "because there's no way I'm giving my money to a prejudiced cow like you."

She stormed out of the shop, hearing the door jangle behind her, but when she turned round Pansy wasn't there.

Pansy was saying something to the woman behind the counter, and from her bowed head and the bunch of her shoulders Ginny could guess what it was. Ginny watched the woman shake her head, scowling, and then she raised her arm and pointed to the door. Pansy left without a further word.

"You shouldn't be apologising to her!" Ginny snapped, when Pansy stepped onto the street. "She's the one who should be apologising to you!"

"Apologising is more likely to get you a pumpkin latte than shouting at her is," Pansy said, with a sideways look that was 100% Slytherin.

"That's not the point!"

"What is the point, then?"

"You didn't kidnap Florean--"

"Her father," Pansy put in.

"--or kill him, or help anyone to do it, or even vote for the Death Eaters. Her fucking grievances have nothing to do with us!"

There was a dismissive snort from across the street, and Ginny turned to see a man in the entrance to Knockturn Alley spit on the ground. "Scum," he muttered, and then disappeared into a poorly-lit doorway.

"Gin," Pansy murmured. "I think we've made our point. Maybe we should go home."

Ginny looked around them, trying to guess who might be inside the shops or behind some grimy window in Knockturn Alley. She couldn't curse everyone, and perhaps it would be counterproductive to try -- the last thing they needed was "Lesbians assault shoppers!" splashed across the front page of tomorrow's paper.

"Fine," she conceded, with ill-grace.

Pansy gave her a small smile, and said, "I appreciate the gesture, but..."

"They'll have to get used to it," Ginny said firmly.

She leaned in to kiss Pansy again, slowly, possessively. Her hand curled in the small of Pansy's back, and she hoped that anybody who didn't like it would choke.

Yes, that was the moment this whole thing started. Mix together one part Weasley family dynamics, one part wizarding world homophobia, and one part public hatred of her partner, and wait for Ginny Weasley to explode.

That night, Ginny fucked Pansy on the balcony, not caring if the neighbours saw them or the sound of Pansy's moans carried to the street below.

"You're mine," Ginny said, sliding three fingers into Pansy and twisting them right there, so that Pansy swore and bucked against her hand. She kissed the damp line of Pansy's neck and breathed, "I'm not going anywhere."

A few days later, after the inevitable media blustering about their trip to Diagon Alley, Ginny woke to the sound of Hermione's owl tapping against her window.

Ginny,

I'm having a birthday dinner at the Three Broomsticks at 7pm on Saturday. Can you make it? It would be nice to catch up with you.
Love,

Hermione

P.S. I suppose you can bring Pansy if you like.

Ginny suspected that the polite way to respond to a grudging invitation to one's partner was to decline and pretend that Pansy had other plans. Instead, she grabbed a piece of parchment, scrawled "Pansy and I will see you there, xx Gin", and sent it before she could change her mind.

Apparating into Hogsmeade wasn't quite as bad as their entry to Diagon Alley, but that was only because there were fewer people on the street. When they stepped into the Three Broomsticks it all begun again -- glances turned to stares, and silence spread from one table to another.

"Ginny!" Hermione said loudly, hurrying over and pulling Ginny into a hug. "It's so nice to see you!"

"Yes, Pansy and I are glad to be here," Ginny said pointedly, disentangling herself and taking half a step backwards so that Hermione was face to face with Pansy.

"How are you, Pansy?" Hermione said, more cooly.

"Very well, thank you," Pansy said politely, in her cut-crystal accent, as though she'd been trained to make small-talk from birth.

Hermione stiffened, and for a second her insecurities were written plainly on her face.

She'd be friendlier, if you were, Ginny thought.

"Here's your present," she said instead, proffering a box wrapped with a large gold bow.

"Oh! It's beautiful," Hermione said, smiling as she took it.

"Pansy's much better at wrapping things than I am."

"Which isn't difficult," Pansy put in, flicking her hair back and giving Ginny a smile. "Since Gin thinks a piece of Spellotape and some glitter is adequate decoration."

Hermione glanced back and forth between them, before apparently deciding that she wasn't willing to take Pansy's side on anything -- even gift-wrap.

"Well, your seats are over here," Hermione said, gesturing to the far end of the table, and moved away with more haste than was necessary.

It turned out that they were stuck in the corner, with George on one side and Parvati on the other, while the remaining occupants of the table whispered about them and glared at intervals. Even though Pansy and Parvati had been friends before Hogwarts, there was a limit to how much small talk they could make, and nobody else seemed willing to include Pansy in the conversation.

"That new moisturiser you've got is brilliant," Ginny told George, on the grounds that buttering someone up was always a good strategy. "Pansy swears by it, and it works a treat on my broom calluses. You'll have half the Harpies using it within a fortnight."

George's expression darkened at the mention of Pansy.

"Yeah, it's good stuff."

"You just missed the opportunity for innuendo, you know." Ginny pointed out. "Lubing up the brooms? Harpies with sticky fingers?"

"Well, I was distracted," George said, glaring at Pansy, and then turned his back on her and started talking to Dean.

"I'm sorry," Pansy mouthed, and Ginny shook her head.

It was stupid -- everybody was stupid! Couldn't they see that hostility made all the social divisions worse? Didn't they realise that Pansy wanted to move on from the war as much as Harry did?

She looked over to Harry, who was happily ensconced in conversation with Bill and Fleur, the latter sitting so close to Bill that she was almost in his lap. As she watched them, Fleur tossed her silver hair back and gave a tinkly laugh that grated on Ginny's nerves.

If Phlegm and Bill had managed a happy marriage despite the half the Weasley family hating her, then she and Pansy could make it work. Would make it work. She'd just be here, rubbing her relationship with Pansy in their faces, until everyone in the world got the fuck over themselves.

Ginny let go of her wine glass, lowered her right hand discreetly beneath the table and laid it onto Pansy's thigh.

"So how long is Padma going to be in Bombay?" Pansy asked, her tone and demeanour not changing one bit.

That was...interesting. How much would it take to get Pansy to squirm?

Ginny slid her hand up the inside of Pansy's leg, fingers pulling at the hem of her mini-skirt. Pansy didn't stir, just nodded and asked another bland question, and Ginny's hand inched higher.

A moment later, her fingers brushed the damp silk of Pansy's knickers, and Ginny watched for Pansy's reaction.

Just for a second, Pansy's eyes lost focus, and then she concentrated on Parvati again, and said "I've always thought India would be a hard place to live -- the things people do in public."

A challenge, then. Ginny bit her lip to stop herself smiling, and moved her fingers in a gentle circle over the crotch of Pansy's knickers. Pansy's thighs quivered at the contact, but above the table her body looked as relaxed as ever. Perhaps this was what they learned in the Slytherin common room and society drawing rooms -- the art of making polite conversation, even while being fucked.

Ginny pressed a little harder, feeling Pansy's wetness soak into the fabric, and stroked her index finger over Pansy's clit.

Pansy gave a little gasp, and quickly turned it into a cough.

"Sorry," Ginny heard her say. "I just -- my throat's a little dry."

Ginny watched as Pansy poured herself a glass of water with slightly shaking hands, and then took a sip.

"Are you all right, darling?" she asked sweetly.

"Oh, yes," Pansy said, eye glittering. "I'm enjoying myself a lot."

Ginny held her eyes, and flicked her fingers over Pansy's clit again. Pansy's hand tightened around her glass, but her polished expression of politeness didn't slip.

"So, are you tempted to join her?" Pansy said, turning back to Parvati.

Glancing around the table, Ginny saw that nobody seemed to have noticed that anything was amiss. They were so busy passing judgement on Pansy and pointedly not speaking to her that they couldn't see Ginny fucking her at the dinner table.

Ginny hooked one finger around the lace edge of Pansy's knickers, tugged them aside, and then slid her hand over the wet folds beneath. She felt a little tremor run through Pansy, and the water glass in Pansy's hand tilted dangerously.

It was awkward from this angle, and no matter how Ginny twisted her wrist she couldn't seem to find the position she wanted -- and she did want. She wanted to push her fingers inside Pansy, one, then two, then three, and see long it took to make her come apart.

If nobody had noticed yet, then surely they wouldn't mind if she went a step further? You do want them to notice, said voice in Ginny's head.

"Oh dear, I've dropped my napkin," she announced blandly, and slipped off her seat to duck beneath the table.

It was dark, but there was just enough room and Pansy's legs were right in front of her. Ginny edged sideways a few inches, then spread a hand on each of Pansy's thighs and leaned in to press a kiss to the wet patch on her knickers. Pansy's thighs clenched, and then shuddered as Ginny gave a slow lick.

Even at Hogwarts, part of her had always wanted to do this. Sorting Feasts would have been ten times more fun with a little fingering and oral sex, and it would have made History of Magic classes a hundred times more interesting. If she and Pansy had got together earlier then perhaps she'd have got the chance.

Ginny gave another swipe of her tongue, enjoying the way Pansy's taste replaced that of Rosmerta's mediocre white wine, and slid her index fingers slowly into Pansy's cunt. Above her, the murmur of conversation continued unabated.

She rocked her hand in and out, finding a rhythm between lips and hand, as Pansy's muscles tightened around her finger. There was a gasp above her, and another hasty cough.

"Are you sure you're okay?" said Parvati.

"I'm certain," Pansy replied, "Really. What were you saying?"

Ginny slid her hand out, and then curved two fingers together and pressed them back in. Pansy's body gave a jerk, and then she was pushing back against Ginny's fingers, hips canting. Yeah, Ginny thought, you want this as much as I do.

Ginny pulled her hand back, fingers teasing at the entrance of Pansy's cunt, and felt Pansy's legs getting tenser and tenser. She waited until Pansy's body felt ready to explode, quivering with tiny tremors of anticipation, and then sucked Pansy's clit into her mouth and drove her fingers deep.

As Pansy came against her mouth and fingers, there was a crash above Ginny's head.

"Oh, fuck!"

"Sorry! It's just water, though, so it won't stain," Pansy said breathlessly, not sounding even slightly apologetic.

"What the hell?" someone said. "Where's Ginny?"

Ginny grabbed her napkin like a flag of surrender, and squeezed back out from under the table.

"Here!" she said, flourishing the napkin the way a soldier might wave like a flag of surrender.

She took in Hermione's expression of open-mouthed shock, Ron's rapidly reddening face, Harry's bewilderment, Parvati's disgust, and the twinkle of amusement in Fleur's eyes.

"It's so dark down there it's hard to find a napkin," Ginny said blandly, as Ron's eyes bulged. She lifted the napkin to her mouth, and wiped the evidence of Pansy's orgasm from her lips and chin. "What have I missed?"

All the shouting, and the way Ron spat his mouthful of beer down the front of Hermione's dress, meant that the evening went rapidly downhill from there. Still, Ginny felt as though she'd proved her point.

"All right, I admit I had fun," Pansy said, wrapping her arm around Ginny's waist as they left the pub.

"I told you," Ginny said, leaning in to kiss her against the doorjamb. "Aren't you glad you came?"

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