Happy Springsmut, everyone! Author:redcandle17 Recipient: All hp_springsmut watchers and participants. Enjoy! Title: The Joys and Sorrows of Pet Ownership Rating: R Pairing(s): Pansy/Hermione, Pansy/Draco Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. Summary: Pansy is forced to choose between her beloved pet and her ambition. Warnings: AU, abuse, chan, darkness. Word Count: ~2,450
She still remembered when Mother and Father brought her pet home. It had been her sixth birthday. The mudblood wore the nightgown she'd been wearing when she was taken from the home of her Muggle parents, now dirty and tattered after a long wait at the Stolen Magic Reclamation office, and her hair was a frightful mess. Pansy had the house elves bathe her immediately, and she dressed her in one of her own pretty pink dresses so her pet would look nice when she showed her off at her party later in the afternoon.
The other children were envious; none of them had gotten pets yet, except Draco Malfoy, who always had the best of everything. He pulled her pet's hair and made her cry, so Pansy punched him on his pointy nose. She didn't regret it even when Mother wouldn't allow her any of her own birthday cake as punishment.
Parvati and Padma Patil came to play sometimes, and they brought their pet with them. Pansy felt bad that their parents couldn't afford to buy them each a pet and they had to share one, though Parvati liked to point out that Padma rarely played with Lavender so she was really Parvati's. That was true. Padma usually brought a book and sat in a corner reading while Pansy and Parvati played with their pets.
Usually they used their toy wands to style Hermione's and Lavender's hair and color their cheeks and lips. Sometimes, when Padma joined in, they played school and the mudbloods were asked questions about the wizarding world. When they inevitably got the questions wrong, they had to hold out the palms of their hands to be punished; that was the most fun part of the game.
Pansy was afraid she'd have to leave her pet home when she went to school, but Father reassured her that students were allowed – encouraged actually – to bring their pets. Sure enough when the letter from Hogwarts came, it said that students should bring their pets because practical magic classes would require something for them to work on. And after seeing the extensive list of books she needed, Father suggested Pansy have Hermione carry them for her.
Hermione wasn't happy like Pansy thought she would be when she told her. She was afraid of the other children. Draco pulled her hair every time Mrs. Malfoy brought him along when she came for tea with Mrs. Parkinson, and Daphne liked to teach Pansy new hexes she'd learned on Hermione.
"Please, Pansy, can't I stay home?"
"No," Pansy said. "You're coming with me, and that's that."
Some of the other girls in the First Year Slytherin dormitory made their pets sleep on the floor or even under their beds, but Pansy let Hermione sleep beside her in her bed. Hermione felt as nice to cuddle as the plush dragon Pansy had left at home for fear of looking like a baby. When she had trouble falling asleep, Hermione would rub her back until she was relaxed and dreaming.
Unlike most pets, Hermione could read and write, and she liked it too. Pansy had frequently had Hermione do her lessons for her at home. She didn't see any reason to stop at Hogwarts, until they were caught. Professor Carrow caught Hermione taking notes from where she sat on the floor beside Pansy's desk, and Pansy knew by the teacher's unpleasant giggles that they were in deep trouble.
It wasn't too bad for her. She got a week's detention, which was spent cleaning various parts of the castle without magic. Hermione got it worse. She had to report to the teachers' lounge every evening for a week. There were never any marks on her when she came back, and she wouldn't tell Pansy what had happened, but Pansy could see that her eyes and nose were red and puffy from crying. Pansy never asked her to help with schoolwork again.
One afternoon Third Year, that idiot Gregory Goyle spilled a jar of ink on her blouse that just wouldn't come out no matter what cleaning charms she used. Pansy ran to her dormitory between classes to change and found Daphne Greengrass with her legs spread wide and her pet between them. Shocked, Pansy just stared.
"Marvelous," Daphne sighed when she saw Pansy. "How's the mouth on yours? I'll lend you mine sometime if you lend me yours."
Feeling foolish and naïve, as well as curiously heated, Pansy snapped, "Oh, for Merlin's sake, at least pull the bed curtains, you slut."
She belatedly realized what everyone must have thought of her sharing her bed with her pet. She paid closer attention to the others that night and noticed that they all took their pets into their beds and closed the curtains, although some pets were sent back out after a goodly amount of time.
She was nervous when she closed her own curtains. She blushed when Hermione met her gaze, and she knew. "How did you know?"
"The other pets talk."
Pansy had never given any thought to what pets said and did together. Their collars would alert the Ministry if they ever plotted rebellion.
"Would you like me to…?"
"No!" Panicked, Pansy turned her back to Hermione and pretended to go to sleep immediately.
There was a Yule Ball her fourth year at Hogwarts. Draco asked her to escort him, as Pansy had expected him to. Hermione helped her to dress and do her hair and makeup, and kissed her lightly on the lips for luck when she left the dormitory. Pets were not permitted to attend the ball.
It was a glorious event. Lord Voldemort himself honored them all by attending. He seemed amused by the older students' attempts to ingratiate themselves with him, though it made Pansy nervous when he glanced her way. He danced with Professor Lestrange, and the headmistress looked happier than Pansy had ever seen her before (when not ordering special detentions, that is).
Near the end of the ball, Draco asked her to take a walk in the rose garden with him. They had kissed before, but tonight was special. He teased her with his tongue instead of trying to shove it down her throat; and he easily found the spot on her neck that made her sigh and not slap his hand away when he dared to squeeze her breasts through her robes. It was only when she was on her way back to her dormitory that Pansy realized Draco had probably been practicing with someone. She refused to let herself wonder if it had been anyone other than his pet; if it had been a real person.
She told Hermione everything - all about the Yule Ball, and the Dark Lord, and Draco -with the curtains drawn and a silencing spell cast so as not to disturb the other girls, though they were probably waking and talking too. Pansy had never kissed anyone but Draco and she wondered if she was bad at it. She didn't confide her fear that Draco had been kissing someone else to her pet. She kissed Hermione, and told herself it was only so she could become good at it for Draco.
It was like butterbeer and the finest Honeydukes chocolates, like new jewelry and an approving smile from Narcissa Malfoy all in one. Pansy couldn't get enough. Free time between classes that used to be spent gossiping in the library with other girls was now spent with her robes around her waist and Hermione's face between her legs. There was a bathroom that girls rarely used because of the annoying ghost that haunted it. It was the perfect place. Pansy didn't even notice Moaning Myrtle above the sounds of her own moans.
Once Myrtle flooded the bathroom and it was unusable for a week. It was a torment for Pansy. Hermione got her off in the mornings before they went up for breakfast, but by mid-day she was hot and wet and unable to concentrate on anything. On Wednesday she couldn't take it any more. She led Hermione to an empty Charms classroom and hopped up onto the large desk at the front of the room. She closed her eyes, blocking out everything but the feel of her pet's tongue.
Pansy was so aghast at having been caught like this that she began searching for excuses (Daphne put something in my pumpkin juice; a Gryffindor hit me with a curse in the hallway) before she realized it wasn't a teacher. It was a tall red-haired boy wearing faded robes. Ron Weasley. Pansy's lips curled in a sneer. Everyone said the Weasleys were blood traitors; that they had conspired against the Ministry with notorious criminals like Albus Dumbledore before the Dark Lord had nobly put an end to their treason. The father was in Azkaban, but the mother had weaseled her way free to raise her pack of brats. They were so poor that they couldn't afford new clothes and books, much less a proper pet. Ron had an ugly orange cat that Hermione had played with First Year until Pansy had forbidden her to touch the filthy thing.
"What's the matter, Weasley? Haven't you ever seen a cunt before?" As a matter of fact Pansy had never seen a cock, but this was about Ron, not her.
"I've got no interest in your cunt, Parkinson, or your face." Weasley gave her disdainful look, as if she was the one wearing patched robes, before leaving.
Afraid that someone else might come by, Pansy put her knickers back on and smoothed down her skirt while Hermione wiped her face clean. Sure enough, she almost collided with Draco as she left the classroom.
"Draco! Were you looking for me?" She hoped he couldn't tell what she'd been doing.
"I…Yes. Do you want to go into Hogsmeade this weekend?"
"I'd love to." She preferred to spend her weekend with Hermione's bushy head buried between her legs, but time with Draco was valuable.
Summer was bliss. Hermione slept in Pansy's bed instead of the little adjoining maid's room she'd slept in since the Parkinsons had bought her. Curiosity drove Pansy to taste Hermione, and enjoyment made her keep doing it. She liked to stop before Hermione climaxed and send her on errands around the manor, knowing how desperate she would feel and how grateful she'd be when Pansy deigned to give her relief.
She didn't allow herself to think about the night she'd gone to her parents' bedroom, drawn by the unusual sound of raised voices. Mother had been reminding Father that Hermione was his daughter's pet and they'd had her since she was a little girl. Pansy didn't want to know what the argument was about.
Disaster struck shortly before Christmas break. Pansy was summoned to the headmistress's office and told to bring her pet with her. She went, afraid that there was bad news from home. Hermione put an arm around her shoulder and only dropped it when they were outside Professor Lestrange's office.
"Pansy." Bellatrix Lestrange greeted her with a smile.
Pansy started to relax. "Professor Lestrange. You sent for me?"
"Yes. I'm afraid I've heard some disturbing news."
The fear returned. Pansy instinctively squeezed Hermione's hand. Lestrange's eyes didn't miss it, and her face darkened.
"Pansy, let me be frank. If you wish to marry my nephew, certain things are expected of you. You are expected to be a leader, to set an example for pureblooded witches. I cannot – will not – expect less."
"I understand fully, Professor." (Please tell me what I did wrong. I didn't mean to. I'm going to be Mrs. Malfoy; I have to be.)
"It is said that you're soft on your pet, that you treat the mudblood like a person."
Pansy wondered whether it had been Vincent, who was angry because she'd slapped him for sticking his hand up Hermione's robes, or Daphne, who was resentful because Pansy wouldn't let her borrow Hermione.
"That's a horrid lie. I'm fond of my pet, but nothing more."
"You have the chance to prove it. Your mudblood is accused of stealing books from the library. You will administer her punishment." Lestrange's beautiful face was lit with excitement.
Hermione had always been rather fond of books. Pansy had never seen any harm in it. If Hermione wanted to waste her time with something as dull as reading when Pansy wasn't around, it was her loss as far as Pansy was concerned. She'd given Hermione permission to borrow books under her name, but she knew better than to admit that to Bellatrix Lestrange. "Very well."
"A few rounds of the Cruciatus Curse should do it."
"We won't learn that until Sixth Year, Professor."
"Oh, yes, of course. The mudblood will certainly get a good taste of it next year. I do hope you're a good learner…Or not."
"Perhaps an affliction of boils?" Hermione was a very good pet; Pansy had never had cause to punish her. "Or an itching hex?"
"Oh, dear," Lestrange shook her head. "Pansy, I see I will need to take you under my wing."
"Yes, Professor. I would be very grateful for your guidance."
Pansy slapped her pet across the face with all the strength she could muster. She would not give Lestrange the opportunity to find further fault with her. Hermione crumpled to the floor. Pansy didn't look at her.
"Very good. Now remove her robes."
Pansy did as she was told. When Lucius retired, surely Draco would become Minister of Magic.
"You'll find a cane beside my desk. Bend her over the desk; that makes for a pretty sight. Don't concentrate on her arse alone, Pansy. The thighs are quite sensitive."
She had always liked the peacocks at Malfoy Manor. Mrs. Malfoy had showed her how to feed them when she was a little girl, back before she got a pet.
"She can stand up now. Cane her breasts."
Eventually Narcissa would turn hostess duties over to Pansy. She would wear the most fashionable robes and smile as she welcomed foreign wizarding officials and the heads of ancient families.
"Excellent. May I borrow her for awhile?"
"Of course. For as long as you'd like."
"Thank you. Would you like to stay and watch?"
Pansy Parkinson was not weak or stupid. Everyone was going to envy her. She watched without seeing as Lestrange did things to Hermione and finally made her service her. And when Lestrange wanted to watch, Pansy closed her eyes and found that Hermione's tongue felt the same as always.
Upon arriving home for Christmas, Pansy said to her parents, "I don't want a pet anymore. I've outgrown her. Get rid of her."