Pansy was pleased to have scored a last-minute portkey back to London. Moving to Paris to establish her fashion line had been the right business move, but it had oddly coincided with her finding a witch who not only caught her eye but had quickly captured her heart as well. While she knew it was lesbian chic , she wasn’t enjoying everything about being in a long-distance relationship.
She could admit that there were likely some benefits to it. She and her lover were moving so quickly that if they had unfettered access to one another, she would likely already be married and have acquired three cats in the space of only a few months. For all of this rationale , it didn’t stop her constant desire for the witch.
So she had little choice but to push her team to finish work late on a Thursday so that she could be on her way to London for a long weekend. Her new love would be waiting for her, and Pansy could hardly contain her excitement.
For her last few minutes in France, she stood in front of her mirror doing one last coat of lipstick. It wasn’t as though her witch hadn’t seen her when she was an utter mess, but she wanted to watch her eyes glaze over for a moment when she saw and her. Reducing the brightest witch of her age to a mumbling mess would never get old. She looked at her watch briefly and picked up her bag. The portkey would be activating soon, and she would land quite literally on her lover’s doorstep. She took a deep breath as the magic pulled her to the only place on earth she really wanted to be. It wasn’t the most comfortable form of travel, but the efficiency always seduced her.
She attempted to control her breathing and look less out of sorts when the door swung open. Hermione had no doubt set a specific ward so that she would know when Pansy arrived. From her first glance at the beautiful face that she loved more than any other face, Pansy knew that the portkey had been the right thing to do.
Hermione smiled adoringly before reaching out and pulling her into a tight hug. Pansy had dreamt of the feeling of Hermione’s arms around her. Her eyes welled with the overwhelming emotion of being entirely safe and loved. She leaned into the hand that cupped her face affectionately after the embrace ended and looked into the hazel eyes she dreamed about every night.
“Welcome home,” Hermione whispered after a long moment.
Pansy smiled. Her lover wasn’t referring to her flat or even London. Hermione knew that she was Pansy’s home. Location was irrelevant when their love was involved.
“Thank you,” Pansy whispered and pressed her hand to Hermione’s sternum. She waited a long moment feeling the steady beat of the heart beneath the skin and bone.
Hermione smiled blindingly.
“Come in, darling. I have dinner and wine. Come relax.”
Pansy did her best to control the emotions on her face but rarely had much success when it came to Hermione. All her Slytherin trained cool indifference melted in front of Hermione’s warmth. She was well aware that she looked every bit as lovesick as she felt.
Instead of fighting it, she intertwined her fingers in Hermione’s and let herself be led into privacy. For the next 72 hours, she would let the entire rest of the world melt away. Hours disappeared into sheer bliss and happiness when they were together, even if it was a simple floo call.
She dropped her bag on the floor before they reached the kitchen. She likely wouldn’t need anything it contained until she left again for Paris. Pansy supposed it was possible that Hermione might want to go to a coffee shop or a restaurant once they had their fill of one another. But Pansy was already feeling needy, so she wouldn’t be offended if they only climbed out of bed for sustenance in the next three days.
“Are you hungry?”
Hermione looked hopeful and pleased with herself.
Pansy smirked, taking in the beautiful witch.
“I’m famished, Hermione.”
The beautiful laugh from her love made the cheesy line entirely worth it.
“You will eat dinner, Pansy. Don’t get any ideas into your head. You will need your strength.”
The Slytherin fought down a blush. There was little sexier in this world than prim and proper Hermione Granger saying filthy things into her ear. While this opening salvo was reasonably innocent, it was clear that she was in her lover’s sights, and she could not wait for the takedown that was so clearly coming her direction.
“Anything you wish, my love,” Pansy said smoothly. She lifted Hermione’s hand to place a kiss on the back of it. She could hardly be blamed when her tongue darted out for a brief moment against the tender skin between two of the delicate fingers she craved in every possible way. She enjoyed the way that Hermione’s eyelashes fluttered in pleasure and how her gaze turned intense in an instant.
Pansy did so with little thought. She loved when her lover was just a little bossy. She looked at the lovely spread in front of them. It was tapas. Not only was it one of her favorite types of food, but it led quite naturally to feeding one another. It was a slow and seductive type of meal. She loved nothing more than the slow, steady build of their chemistry.
She sipped the lovely white sangria and looked flirtatiously over the rim of her glass at Hermione. She enjoyed the smile that immediately stretched across her face. She leaned back to watch as Hermione took a small fork and loaded it with Pansy’s favorite dish. She leaned forward, slowly offering it to Pansy with a knowing grin.
Pansy opened her mouth willingly and closed it slowly around the fork. She kept eye contact with Hermione as she pulled it from the fork and moaned at the flavor. It was even better than she remembered. Through her enjoyment, she couldn’t help but notice Hermione squirming.
“This is a lovely dinner, love. Thank you,” Pansy said, offering a bite to her lover in a similar manner.
Hermione had, of course, been right about them needing to eat. They both had demanding careers, and they had both crammed five days of work into four days to have time together. She could feel her exhaustion clawing at her already. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Hermione looked at her knowingly.
“Was your week rougher than you let on, love,” Hermione asked gently.
Pansy nodded. She would admit her weaknesses to Hermione, even if she never would to anyone else.
“I’m so happy to be able to end it here,” she said finally.
Hermione smiled knowingly. Pansy was breathless for a moment. Knowing her lover, Pansy would be given exactly what she needed in spades without even uttering a word. There was a magic about Hermione that had nothing at all to do with magic.
Pansy tried and failed to stifle a yawn. The long hours and frantic work were catching up with her.
“Let me take care of you.”
Hermione’s request was heartfelt, and Pansy could deny her nothing. She let the witch lead her from the table and towards her bedroom. Pansy had wanted nothing more than to bed Hermione when she walked into the flat, but now she wanted Hermione and that bed in an entirely different way. She knew from a glance that Hermione had caught the shift. The warmth in the look assured Pansy that she wasn’t disappointed.
When they crossed the threshold of the bathroom, Pansy’s breath was taken away by the neat row of her favorite cosmetics, ones that Hermione had added since her last visit. She looked to her love, who was blushing prettily. She knew she couldn’t form words without tears escaping, so she opted to squeeze Hermione’s hand instead. Without a word, gentle fingers began to remove her clothing. Normally Pansy would relish in watching Hermione’s attentiveness to her needs, but she was so exhausted and in need of comfort that she let her eyes slide closed. The action provided Hermione with the perfect opening to remove Pansy’s makeup. It was such a quietly intimate moment that Pansy nearly held her breath for fear of ruining such perfection.
“You work so hard,” Hermione said quietly.
Pansy hummed in agreement.
“And I am so very proud of you and the progress you are making, my love,” Hermione continued.
Pansy felt high. There was something about the combination of sheer exhaustion and the maddening softness that made her feel like she was floating above the earth. It was so blissful that she nearly forgot to open her eyes when Hermione drew back.
“Brush your teeth, love. I’m going to go get the bedroom ready.”
Pansy did as she was asked. She was so looking forward to Hermione’s soft bed and the witch in it. Hermione returned a few moments later. Pansy stared at the bare skin before her. Her love had lost her clothing somewhere along the way back, not that she had any complaints. Hermione winked mischievously while grabbing her toothbrush. Before she put it into her mouth, she said,
“Why don’t you go lay down, love. I will only be a few moments.”
Pansy nodded. She crossed the bedroom quickly to the bed. It was cool in the room, and she wanted nothing more than the warmth of the blankets pulled up to her ears. She burrowed in the blankets on her favorite side of the bed and listened happily as Hermione moved inside the bathroom. Her former self would have teased her relentlessly for her romantic love of the small moments, but she had found they meant the most when you were desperately in love. She felt herself drift slightly while thinking of Hermione as she did so many nights. There was relief in the fact that the arms around her tonight would be real instead of just in her heart.
When the bed depressed beside her, Pansy forced her eyes open. She needed to see the face that meant more than anything to her. Hermione looked at her with a heartbreakingly tender look that made her melt. She watched as the witch settled into the bed and opened her arms.
Pansy had never really been one to cuddle. Still, she was so overwhelmingly in love that she could think of nothing more pleasant than settling into her lover’s embrace and doing her very best to eliminate any space between them. She sighed contentedly as her head rested on Hermione’s shoulder and the woman’s arms wrapped around her.
“I love you so much,” Hermione whispered against her forehead as she brushed a kiss against her skin.
Pansy wanted to respond with how much the witch meant to her. She spent her nights writing love, after all. But she was so relaxed that she couldn’t quite form words as she was drifting towards sleep. She squeezed Hermione slightly and let out a contented sigh. Hermione was tenderly brushing her fingertips through her hair and lightly scraping against her scalp. It felt like heaven, and with the whispered words of love, Pansy was helpless to fight against sleep.
“Sleep, my love. You can have me when you wake, whenever that might be,” Hermione reassured.
Pansy sighed and relaxed into the affection. She hadn’t truly believed in soulmates before she had gotten to know Hermione. But now, she knew the reach of such love. It wasn’t bound by land or time or distance. It was its own living, breathing entity. It was the greatest gift she would ever receive. She daily thanked any gods who would listen that she found someone whose soul was made of the same stuff as hers.