Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: pauraque
From: A Witchy Watcher - dexstarr

Title: Sin and Salt
Characters/Pairings: Aurora Sinistra/Pansy Parkinson
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Included: Teacher/Student, Underage, Loss of Virginity, Cunnilingus
Other Warnings/Content: None
Word Count: ~4,700
Summary/Description: Pansy Parkinson’s seventh year is full of secrets.
Author's Notes: This turned out to be much plottier and less kinky than expected.




The essay is impeccable.

Researched to the nth degree, including quotes from books in every section of the library, even the Restricted Section. Six feet long—a foot over the assigned length—with no signs of erasure charms. The content is well above N.E.W.T. level.

It’s the type of work Hermione Granger would produce but for three things. One: Hermione Granger did not take N.E.W.T. level Astronomy, much to Aurora’s displeasure at losing a talented student. Two: Hermione Granger did not return to Hogwarts this year, just as other Muggleborns did not. Three: The handwriting is not Hermione Granger’s tiny, cramped scrawl.

No, the essay is in Pansy Parkinson’s hand.

This is a problem for three reasons. One: Pansy Parkinson has never turned in work of this caliber, which means she must have farmed the work out to someone else. Two: Accusing Pansy Parkinson of cheating is not a smart move with the current political climate of Hogwarts. Three: If Aurora does follow her need for academic integrity, she risks losing control of Pansy Parkinson and the rest of the Slytherins the girl rules.

It’s a dilemma that keeps Aurora awake during her customary, mid-afternoon nap. Should she say something or should she keep her mouth shut? Speak out or stay safe?

During the next N.E.W.T. class, Aurora finds herself standing behind Pansy Parkinson’s platinum telescope. Later she will ask herself if it was the lack of sleep or the riddle over what to do that led to losing control over her mouth. The reason doesn’t really matter, but Aurora has always evaluated every action and word.

“Miss Parkinson, I’d like to see you in my office. Tomorrow, at noon. We need to have a word about your last assignment.”

Pansy’s expression at the request is a confident, knowing smile. A smile almost as bright as the full moon. Aurora had expected anger, an outright ‘no,’ or even a smirk. Not a smile.

That smile only adds to Aurora’s confusion. What in Merlin’s name did she get herself into?

*     *     *

Aurora half expects Pansy to show up with one or both of the Carrows in tow the next day, but the girl comes by herself. Pansy walks into Aurora’s office like she owns it, sprawling in the chair in front of Aurora’s desk.

“You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“Yes. Tell me, Miss Parkinson. Why did you hand in work that wasn’t yours?” The words slide out smoothly, as if some of the girl’s confidence has already rubbed off on Aurora. She had planned on easing into matters, for her own comfort, but maybe the direct approach is better.

Pansy puts on a surprised face, an act she’s probably pulled a hundred times. “I don’t understand, Professor.”

Aurora plucks the essay roll off her desk and waves it. “You’ve never turned in work of this quality before. You did have an Exceeds Expectation in your O.W.L., but I’ve never read anything so … polished from you before. Who wrote it for you?”

If there’s someone capable of such academic excellence, Aurora wants to know who it is, and why they’ve been hiding their knowledge. Or maybe Pansy paid for a paper. She certainly has the Galleons to spare.

“I wrote it.” Pansy leans back in the chair, making herself even more comfortable. “I thought Hogwarts needed a new swot, what with Mudblood Granger not here to show everyone up.”

Suddenly angry, Aurora smacks her desk with the roll of parchment. “Don’t lie to me, Miss Parkinson. You will not—“ She bites her tongue just in time, reminded by the Inquisitorial Squad badge still pinned to Pansy’s robe that defending Hermione Granger is not a good idea. Time for a different tactic. “If you have this much knowledge and interest in Astronomy, why have you never shown it before?”

“I never had a reason. I didn’t care.” Pansy shrugs carelessly.

“Why do you care now?”

“Because I do.” Pansy’s smile from last night is back. “Give me another assignment, and I’ll show you Slytherins can be ambitious in more ways than one.”

Why not? Aurora’s not sure if Pansy is playing her or not, but she’s curious to see what the girl will do. It’s easy enough to test. Summoning a N.E.W.T. preparation paper, she taps it with her wand and applies an Anti-Cheating Spell. “Answer the questions and return the parchment by your next class.”

*     *     *

The next day, Aurora’s in her office marking papers when there’s a knock on the door. Looking up from a rubbish essay on Jupiter’s moons, she sees Pansy standing in the doorway.

“Miss Parkinson?”

Pansy strolls in just like she did yesterday, head up and shoulders back, the picture of confidence. “Here you go, Professor.” She drops a scroll on Aurora’s desk, which unrolls itself and reveals the completed N.E.W.T. paper.

Much to Aurora’s surprise, every single answer is correct. Every single answer is in Pansy’s elegant hand, which means she wrote every single word. There’s no way the girl could have found a way around the Anti-Cheating Spell—no student has since Hogwarts started using the spell over a hundred years ago.

It doesn’t make sense. The gears in Aurora’s brain click and whirl until she comes to the undeniable conclusion: Pansy Parkinson is much more talented in Astronomy than she’s ever shown herself to be. But why hide such knowledge for years?

“Why?” In her astonishment, Aurora can’t form a complete question, but Pansy seems to understand what she’s asking.

“Because even I need something to hold onto when the world is changing.”

*     *     *

Over the next few weeks, Aurora sees a subtle change in Pansy. Maybe it’s because she watches the girl like a hawk, trying to figure out how Pansy hid a real interest in the stars for years. But it’s also because Pansy isn’t the same Slytherin she’s been the past seven years.

Oh, she’s still the queen snake, the head of the Slytherin coven. The few Slytherins in the N.E.W.T. class—female and male—look to her for their cue, just as they always have when Draco Malfoy’s not there. But Pansy doesn’t make trouble for Aurora, not the way the group does for Professor Flitwick or Professor McGonagall. Headmaster Snape’s shadow has never graced Aurora’s office or tower classroom, and the wheezy Carrows stay far away.

Sometimes, Aurora wonders if it’s just a coincidence, but whenever Pansy senses her watching, she flashes a smile. That bright, confident smile that sends a ripple through Aurora’s thoughts.

What does that smile mean?

*     *     *

Precisely a month after Aurora asks Pansy to her office, Pansy shows up unannounced.

“Professor?”

Aurora’s surprised to see her, but by now, she’s used to being surprised by Pansy.

“Yes, Miss Parkinson?”

“I was hoping we could talk.”

Puzzled, Aurora cocks her head to the side. “Do you need help with the latest assignment?” Pansy shouldn’t—the girl has continued to turn in high quality work. Aurora looks forward to each essay. They’re a bright spot in the darkness closing in on Hogwarts.

“No.” Pansy hovers in the doorway. “I’m done with the essay on the observational history of the Pleiades. I was just hoping we could … talk.”

Aurora should have known better—Pansy’s always going to surprise her. Isn’t the last month proof of that?

“Come in.”

Pansy does, walking in with her shoulders back and chin confidently raised. But something feels off. Despite wanting to talk, she doesn’t say anything for several minutes, her eyes fixed on a spot above Aurora’s head.

It’s up to Aurora to figure out why Pansy is here. Too bad she’s never been a good conversationalist. Only one question comes to mind. “Miss Parkinson? Is … something wrong?”

“I used the Cruciatus Curse tonight.”

Aurora flinches instinctively. She’d heard Amycus Carrow had required the use of the Torture Curse in class and detention. The thought is vile, but so is what would happen if she admitted that. “I see,” she says, although she doesn’t.

“I hated it. Well, not really. But I hated the aftermath.” Pansy bites her lower lip. “I mean, I like having power. We’re finally the house everyone follows. That’s how it should be. How it would’ve been if Potter hadn’t shown up to be Gryffindor’s hero.”

Now it’s Aurora’s turn to sit there and wait.

“The kid I used the curse on, she reminded me of my sister. Violet. But Violet reminds me of why I love the stars. It’s all mixed up.” Pansy shrugs. “I probably shouldn’t be here, but there’s no one else I can talk to.”

Aurora does what her mother bred into her: she makes a pot of tea. While they wait for the water to boil, she asks about Violet.

“She died before I started Hogwarts. She got some Muggle disease that our nanny missed.”

“I’m sorry.” Aurora hands Pansy a cup. “That must have been hard on you.”

Pansy nods. “I guess. It’s silly, but that’s partly why I did rubbish work for so long. My father hates anything whimsical, like Astronomy or Divination. He would’ve been furious if I got an Outstanding fifth year.”

“What’s different about this year?” Yet again, Pansy has made Aurora curious. They shouldn’t be talking so intimately, but she genuinely wants to know why Pansy’s attitude has changed, and why Pansy’s sitting in here, confessing her secrets.

Pansy wraps her hands around the cup. “I told you before. The world is changing. But there’s still so much pressure on me. I need something that makes me happy. Something that’s just for me.” She sips on her tea. “Something I like. That’s Astronomy. We’re still studying the same stars the ancient Egyptians looked at. The same stars the ancient Greeks and Romans wrote myths about. Something so vast reminds me there’s more to life than wars and losing people and expectations.”

*     *     *

Aurora is sure that Pansy’s visit is a one-time thing, spurred on by guilt and grief and confusion. Pansy Parkinson is the last person—except Minerva, maybe—Aurora ever expected to see at such a vulnerable point.

But Pansy shows up the next day, the next, and the next, shattering Aurora’s expectations. She really should be used to it by now, but she’s come to enjoy being surprised by Pansy.

On the third night, Aurora shares a story about her studies at university. It’s not that funny, but Pansy laughs when it’s finished, and smiles at Aurora.

That smile sears Aurora to her bones. For the first time, it hits her that she might be the first person ever at Hogwarts to see the real Pansy. To see her real smile.

*     *     *

“Get out of here!” There’s a whimper, and then another shout. “Go! Get out of my sight before I change my mind.”

Aurora grips her wand tightly before walking round the corner. There’s no telling who she might run into.

Pansy Parkinson.

Instead of the expected Carrow—Pansy’s standing there.

Pansy looks vulnerable, more lost than Aurora’s ever seen her. But she also looks powerful, pleased, in control. A mix of emotions fly over her face, a contrast to the usual sneering mask.

Suddenly, Aurora’s stepping towards Pansy, and then before she knows it, she’s kissing her. What are you doing—you shouldn’t be doing this—why in Merlin’s name are you kissing her—what’s wrong with you?

But all those thoughts whoosh out of her brain because Pansy’s kissing her back, hands curled in her hair, body pressing her to the wall.

“Well, well.” A wheezy laugh slices the air. “What’s goin’ on ‘ere?”

Aurora steps away from Pansy as quickly as she stepped towards the girl. The kiss must have loosened her tongue or brain or both, because she’s not thinking when she says, “Disciplining a student.”

Thank you, Merlin. It’s the only response that could work in this situation, and she hopes that it does. The Carrows aren’t bright, and they do love discipline.

Alecto Carrow leers at Pansy. “What’d you do?”

“I was out after hours, Professor Carrow.” Pansy ducks her head and puts a tremor into the words. In the dim light, Aurora can see she’s charmed her tie blue and bronze. “Professor Sinistra was assigning a detention.”

Alecto huffs and looks at her watch. “You’re lucky, girlie. I’d do more, but my show’s on the wireless.”

Once Alecto’s gone, Aurora’s nerves come out in a fit of laughter. Another look at Pansy sobers her up quickly enough. “I shouldn’t have—”

Pansy gives her that smile, the one that’s started to make Aurora’s knees go weak whenever she sees it. “Yes, you should have. I’ll see you tomorrow for my detention, Professor.”

And then Pansy’s gone too, vanishing down the hall before Aurora can say a word in protest.

*     *     *

Last year, Aurora had one of the oddest experiences of her teaching career. As it involved Luna Lovegood, perhaps it wasn’t that odd, but it was odd enough.

Luna had skipped into the office, said Aurora had pretty pink lips, and announced she wanted to snog her. But just as quickly, Luna had said it would be wrong, because she was trying to court Helena Ravenclaw’s ghost.

And then she had left, leaving behind one very confused Aurora.

Aurora’s just as confused today. The events of last night replay in a constant loop. How could you? Why did you? What were you thinking?

That’s just it: she wasn’t thinking. Trouble always comes when she doesn’t think, which is why Aurora spends so much time debating every action and word in the privacy of her mind. That’s the only way to ensure she does the right thing.

Except when she doesn’t.

And that’s what she likes about Pansy. The girl reminds Aurora of herself, trying to do and say the right thing in that Slytherin way of hers, but sometimes failing. Pansy doesn’t want to let anyone see inside, to see beyond the carefully crafted veneer of a snobby bitch in control. Not that Pansy isn’t a bitch sometimes—Aurora’s seen her in action plenty of times over the years—but there’s more to her.

But for some unknown reason, she’s let Aurora inside.

Why?

“Thinking about me?”

Aurora jumps in surprise. “Yes. No. No! What can I do for you, Miss Parkinson?”

Pansy saunters into the office, looking well-rested. As if she didn’t risk her neck fooling Alecto Carrow the night before. As if she didn’t spend the entire night rolling from side to side in bed, thinking about the kiss.

“You’re a good kisser, Professor. I wouldn’t have expected it. You might even be better than the designer I hooked up with last summer in Paris.” Pansy coyly twirls hair around her finger. “I’d need a longer snog to know for sure.”

“No! Miss Parkinson, that won’t happen again. It can’t.”

Pansy leans against the desk, that smile gracing her face. “Oh yes it can. I like you, Professor, and if last night’s any indicator, I think you like me too.”

Aurora blindly grabs something from her desk to keep her hands busy. She can’t look at Pansy. Otherwise she might throw propriety to the wind and lock the door to her office. Staring intently at the quill in her hands, she shakes her head. “Miss Parkinson, if you don’t need help with an assignment, you need to leave.”

Fingers tap against the wood desktop. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” But Aurora sounds anything but sure, and she knows Pansy can hear the weakness in her voice. Merlin help her: she wants to kiss Pansy again and again, to learn more about her, to figure out why Pansy Parkinson has etched herself into Aurora’s soul.

Pansy huffs a sigh. “Okay. I’ll go today, but I’ll be back. I don’t give up when I want something.”

Aurora’s afraid of that.

*     *     *

Over the next week, Aurora’s careful to never find herself alone with Pansy. Oh, she wants to be, but she controls that desire like she’s controlled almost everything else in her life. Aurora believes in logic, in doing the right thing, in doing the smart thing. Getting involved with a student is the wrong and stupid thing.

But the glimpses of herself Pansy has shared: the funny side, the star loving side, the witty side—they make Aurora want to take a chance. To be wrong and stupid. To do something that’s so illogical it makes no sense.

She fights it with everything she has. She’s too old, Pansy’s too young. It’s wrong to abuse her authority by encouraging a student. Not to mention there’s a war going on, and she’s quietly on the opposite side.

Although she tries to keep from even looking at Pansy, there are times when Aurora can’t resist. Pansy must have some sixth sense, because every time Aurora gives in, Pansy’s staring back at her. Smiling that smile Aurora’s come to think of as her smile.

Pansy tries to come to her office, but Aurora hides in her private quarters, keeping two locked doors between them. She wants to let Pansy in, to enjoy their tea times again. To have that connection. To see more of Pansy’s real self. But she can’t, won’t—no. No encouragement.

Especially not for herself. Not when Aurora’s staring at the stars through her telescope, placing Pansy as the main player in each constellation’s myth. Not when Aurora’s in her lonely bed, wishing she had Pansy beside her.

*     *     *

Two days later, everything falls apart.

“But he’s there! Potter’s there! Someone grab him!”

Aurora watches helplessly as Pansy’s led away at the head of the column of Slytherins. Pansy never should have spoken out like that, tried to turn Harry Potter over to You-Know-Who in front of everyone.

Pansy must be desperate for her control to have slipped that much. Aurora wonders what happened to push her to that point, to where everyone could see how scared she is. The expectations placed upon her? A fear of dying?

They may all die tonight.

Hell with it.

Just like when she kissed Pansy, Aurora’s on the move before she can really think about it. Following the trail of evacuating students to the Hog’s Head, she finds Argus Filch. He’s got Pansy by the elbow, yanking her along and keeping a steely eye on the doors.

“Argus. Wait. Minerva sent me for her.” Aurora jerks her head at Pansy and grabs the girl’s wrist. “She doesn’t want any chance of that one warning the enemy.”

Argus mumbles something about manacles, but Aurora’s already pulling Pansy out the back door of the pub. There’s a small inn tucked near the back of the village, and she takes Pansy there.

As she had hoped, the inn is deserted. They find an empty room on the second floor and barricade themselves inside, as if chairs pushed against the door and two locking charms will keep the Death Eaters out.

The war, You-Know-Who, the fear of dying, the battle starting at Hogwarts—all of it fades away now that they’re alone together.

“You came for me,” Pansy says, and then jumps on Aurora. They land on the bed, Aurora on the bottom. Pansy clings to Aurora, arms winding about her neck, knees pinning her to the bed. “You came for me,” she repeats as if amazed that someone cares enough to rescue her.

Aurora wishes their first time were different. Under the stars, sharing their love for Astronomy—that would be romantic. Not an abandoned inn smack in the middle of a besieged town. But they’re together. That’s all that matters.

They kiss each other hungrily, unable to get enough. When they stop to breathe, Aurora wraps Pansy’s tie around her fist, pulling the girl closer to her. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” she says, laughing. “I don’t know how you convinced me.”

Pansy laughs too. “I told you I don’t give up. I always get what I want.”

“But why do you want me?” Aurora’s not going to stop, not now, but she still wants to know why. Is she some random fixation, a game Pansy wants to win, or something else?

Pansy’s answer is a gentle kiss. “Because you saw beyond the assumptions everyone makes about me. You saw me.”

She smiles, and Aurora’s lost in it. When Pansy smiles for real, the way she’s shown Aurora, it lights up her eyes. She looks happy.

Vanishing Pansy’s tie because her fingers are trembling too much to untie it, Aurora nudges off her cardigan. Underneath Pansy’s wearing a white oxford. Aurora touches the top button, but doesn’t undo it yet. “Are you sure?”

“Are you daft, Professor? I want you.” Pansy’s as confident as ever, even though ten minutes ago she was terrified and nearly attacked by half of Hogwarts for trying to turn over Harry Potter. Her confidence is intoxicating.

“Aurora. Not ‘professor.’” She plays with the button, sliding it in and out of the buttonhole, gathering her courage.

“I like the professor bit, but oookay.” Pansy slaps Aurora’s hands away from her shirt. “Let me. You’re taking too long.”

Aurora blows out an amused breath. “I’ve thought about you for weeks. Why can’t I take my time?”

Pansy grins smugly. “So you did want me.” She undoes the buttons on the top half of her oxford, stopping just below her breasts. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

A hint of navy blue satin peeks out from Pansy’s shirt, capturing Aurora’s attention. “Yes,” she admits. “I shouldn’t want you, but I do. I don’t know why.”

“Who cares why? Just enjoy what we’ve got.” It’s an enlightened statement from someone so young, but it’s true. Who knows what could happen tonight? They should just enjoy the moment.

So Aurora does.

She slides her hands up Pansy’s shirt, jerking it open. Buttons ping everywhere, one almost hitting Aurora in the nose. They kick off their shoes and then separate reluctantly to undress. Aurora throws her robe to the floor. Her sweater follows, with a little self-consciousness. She’s older than Pansy and has the body of an older woman, but that thought vanishes when she hears a sharp gasp.

On the bed, Pansy’s standing up, wearing only her bra and skirt. Once she sees Aurora’s looking at her, Pansy gives her a coy glance. Unzipping her skirt, she sways from side to side, making the plaid slither down her legs.

“Fuck.” Aurora suddenly feels as impatient as Pansy. She magics off the rest of her clothing, no longer feeling any hints of self-consciousness. Pansy’s boldness has rubbed off on her again. Reclining on the bed, she motions for Pansy to sit down.

“Mm, that’s the idea.” Straddling Aurora’s pelvis, Pansy leans in for another kiss. Hands cupping Aurora’s face, thumbs on her cheekbones, she holds Aurora still as she snogs her, tongue tapping her lips.

Aurora bucks up against Pansy, moaning into the kiss when she feels warmth and wetness. When Pansy lets go, she looks down and sees a splotch of night-dark blue on her knickers. The visible evidence of how much Pansy wants her sends a bolt of arousal through Aurora. She wants Pansy, and she wants her now. “Move up. I want to taste you.”

Hooking Pansy’s knickers out of the way with a finger, Aurora uses her other hand to pull Pansy closer to her face. When she swipes her tongue along Pansy’s cunt, the resulting whimper is so sexy she shivers with need. Pansy tastes like sin and salt, worth every second of waiting and wanting.

Pulling back, she layers kisses along Pansy’s smooth thighs. The younger woman looks glorious above her, proud like the eagle of Aurora’s house.

As if she senses Aurora looking at her, Pansy glances down and flashes that smile, the one that got them into this. Predictably, a minute later, Pansy thrusts against Aurora’s face. “Don’t make me wait.” A heartbeat pause. “Please.”

It may be the first time in Pansy’s life that she’s ever said ‘please.’ Proud of coaxing another first from the girl, Aurora gets serious. She starts with long, slow licks, tasting every drop of Pansy’s arousal. When Pansy squirms, Aurora gradually speeds up, poking her tongue into Pansy’s center every few passes. And when the bed creaks because Pansy’s hanging on for life, Aurora flicks her tongue over the girl’s clitoris.

It takes only a few strokes before Pansy erupts. A stream of curses leaves her mouth as she jerks on Aurora’s tongue, riding out her climax. She keens as she comes down from the high, sounding like a siren.

With a less than graceful movement, Pansy wrenches herself away from Aurora. She falls to the bed, panting for air. “Merlin.”

Rolling onto her side, Aurora places her hand on Pansy’s chest, right over her heart. She’s careful to keep the touch light, so as not to over-sensitize her. Underneath her palm, Pansy’s heart thumps like a hummingbird’s wings. There’s a look on the girl’s face, one of absolute surrender and peacefulness. Aurora enjoys the moment of tranquility, relieved to have this oasis in the middle of everything.

“You’re beautiful,” she says whisper-soft. But Pansy hears, and smiles at her.

Faster than expected, Pansy’s back to normal. Aurora doubts her skills until she remembers how young Pansy is.

“I want you now,” Pansy says, punctuating her desire with a nip to Aurora’s breast. Her hands roam over both, pushing them together, as if comparing the difference between herself and Aurora.

“Then take me.” Aurora lies back, pulling Pansy with her.

Making herself comfortable between Aurora’s legs, Pansy begins as Aurora did. She kisses up and down her thighs, taking her time.

Usually Aurora likes a long session of foreplay, but tonight, she’s as impatient as her young lover. She’s about to say something, but when she looks at Pansy, she sees something she’s never seen before: uncertainty. “Pansy?”

“I’ve…” Pansy bites her lower lip. “I’ve never … before.”

Aurora feels honored by the admission. She’s sure it’s something Pansy wouldn’t admit to anyone else. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you. Just start out slow, okay?”

“Yes, Professor.” Pansy smirks before burying her head between Aurora’s thighs.

“You swot.”

The warm breath of Pansy’s laugh makes Aurora hiss. It feels good, but Pansy’s tongue feels even better.

Pansy’s hesitant at first, her mouth wandering slowly over Aurora’s cunt. Her hands sweep Aurora’s thighs, settling in the vee of her legs. Pansy licks all over, tentatively poking her tongue inside Aurora, moving up to Aurora’s clit and back down again.

Aurora gives her leeway for a bit, both amused and aroused by feeling Pansy discover her body. One of her hands drifts to Pansy’s head, fingers weaving through her hair. She’s patient for as long as she can be, enjoying the slow sensation of excitement gathering deep in her belly. Even unpracticed, Pansy’s mouth feels much better than when Aurora gets herself off at night.

When she’s too needy to wait any longer, she presses her fingers against the base of Pansy’s skull. “Focus on my clit. Feather your tongue over it. Fast. Like I did to you.”

Pansy does as asked. She snaps her tongue against Aurora’s clit, over and over and over. Every stroke sends heat through Aurora, building until it feels like her whole body is humming. Then all it takes is one soft moan from Pansy when Aurora tugs her hair, and Aurora’s done.

She comes with a yelp, grinding herself against Pansy’s mouth, seeking out every last sensation to push herself further. Nerve endings fizzle like fireworks, shooting off with bursts of pleasure. Her orgasm goes on for what seems like minutes, Pansy not stopping until Aurora sees stars.

“Stop. Can’t breathe.”

The obedient student for once, Pansy stops when Aurora begs.

When Aurora cracks her eyes open, she sees Pansy licking her wet lips. The sight makes her groan. Disheveled, bed-tousled, relaxed Pansy is one of the sexier things Aurora’s seen in a while. The view helps her forget everything else: the war going on outside their door, the trouble she may get into for taking Pansy to bed. They’ve got this night together, and by Merlin, she’s going to enjoy it.

“You were quite good at that.” Aurora tastes her own lips. A trace of Pansy remains, but it’s not enough.

Pansy nods. “I had a good teacher. With practice, I’ll be even better.”

“More practice, hmm?” Aurora arches an eyebrow. She won’t say no to that. “Again?”

“Again.”