InsaneJournal

Fic: Honey and Vinegar, Pansy/Hermione, Pansy/Narcissa, NC-17
Title: Honey and Vinegar
Author: foreword
Disclaimer: JK's world, JK's people, my insanity.
Rating: NC-17 ;) Who is surprised?
Pairing: Pansy/Hermione, Pansy/Narcissa, also some Pansy/Draco and Draco/Hermione mentions.
Warnings: dungeon sex?, dubious (really dubious het) con, voyeurism, perhaps some angst... feels like there should be more here.
A/N: This was originally written for inell's Locked in a Room Challenge (quite some time ago!). The first version had Hermione/Pansy/Narcissa, but after consulting seamilk a while back, I decided that the dynamic made things decidedly unappealing. I promised myself I'd finish this before I could sign up for any more fests. *_* Any feedback is, of course, appreciated. <3 Thank you to everyone who held my hand throughout this drawn-out writing ordeal!
Summary: Boys will be boys, but Pansy had always had more fun with girls, anyway.


Pansy was used to the Malfoys asking her over for tea. It had become a custom for them, even when Draco was away on business. Narcissa would keep the date in spite of the men being away, and Pansy found that these afternoons in particular happened to be more fun.

Today, though, Narcissa had said she'd a gift for Pansy. Pansy was sure that Draco, at least, was at home today. If he was out of town, he'd certainly have to answer to her later for leaving without so much as an owl.

She wasn't disappointed, in any case, when she arrived in the foyer to find Narcissa waiting for her alone, an excited sparkle to her eyes.

She clasped Pansy's hands tightly in her own, and Pansy noted that they were much warmer as usual, and wondered if Auntie Bella had been in for a visit this morning. She supposed Lucius was out of town again.

"How are you, darling? Something the matter?"

She stroked Pansy's hair with her slim, perfect fingers and Pansy smiled reassuringly. "No, Madame Malfoy, nothing's the matter."

She could always pretend, here.

Narcissa laughed at her answer and twirled, leading the way down the side corridor and directly past the drawing room. "When will you ever learn to call me Narcissa, dear?"

Pansy blushed, but didn't respond as she followed Narcissa, fully expecting that they were making their way to a guest bedroom, or Narcissa's own chambers. She felt it was important for her to maintain propriety in speech even when Lucius and Draco were absent, out of fear that she would grow used to the way Narcissa rolled off of her tongue.

Narcissa took a sharp turn at a bend in the corridor, and suddenly they were descending a curved stone staircase that Pansy had never seen before.

She wasn't terribly surprised when the stairs led them into a dungeon of sorts, as Pansy suspected that secret stone stairwells generally led to unmentionable locations like dungeons, but she was surprised at the strange noises that seemed to be filling the Malfoys' dungeons.

Pansy had heard rumours, of course, about dungeons being used for purposes other than torture, but she'd hardly expected to stumble into such a thing, especially on the arm of Narcissa Malfoy.

Narcissa came to an abrupt stop in front of the cell from which most of the noise seemed to be coming, and Pansy barely recovered herself, nearly stumbling into her.

"Why Draco, darling, terribly sorry to interrupt."

Draco?

After collecting herself appropriately, Pansy stepped up beside Narcissa, and managed to control her shock at finding Draco, flushed with exertion and cock-deep in Hermione fucking Granger.

Granger certainly didn't look like a willing victim, either. Draco had the little nasty Mudblood on her knees, her hands tied behind her back. Pansy noted sourly that he had a rather firm grip on her arse as he kept rocking his hips up against her.

Hermione's expression was glazed over, and though she was trying to look bored, Pansy could see the bite marks on her bottom lip, and the slight shine of wetness on her thighs. Of course she was enjoying this, the dirty little whore.

Draco smiled awkwardly at Pansy as he continued thrusting, and from the rhythm of his panting, Pansy could tell that he was close. Surely enough, in the next minute he was moaning, dropping a hand down Hermione's belly and brushing his fingers across her dirty little cunt as he hissed obscenities in her ear.

Hermione closed her eyes and Draco pulled out, tugging up the trousers he hadn't bothered to take off and not giving Hermione a second glance as he smiled delicately at Pansy and his mother, quietly excusing himself for a shower.

Pansy listened to the steady beat of his footsteps echoing off of the stone steps as she watched Hermione strain awkwardly at the binds he'd left on her. She wasn't angry. She would never let Draco defile her in such a way. Better he let it out on the Mudblood. With a glance up at Narcissa, she knew the older woman felt the same.

Boys will be boys, but Pansy had always had more fun with girls, anyway. She found herself watching Hermione again, and the dirty whore was watching her back now. Her eyes weren't glazed over anymore. Granger knew exactly what she was doing with that stare.

There was a soft click and whir and Pansy glanced over her shoulder to find that Narcissa had closed the cell door behind her, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

"I hope you don't mind sharing your present? I'm afraid Draco has already helped himself."

It took her a moment, but Pansy forced a smile, in spite of the cold feeling in her gut.

Surely Granger wasn't her present?

"Fuck… you."

It took her a moment to recognize the gravelly voice as Granger's. Pansy smiled pristinely and turned, eyeing Granger as if there was nothing abnormal about her being bound naked on the floor of a dungeon cell in Malfoy Manor.

"I'm sorry? I assumed it would work the other way around, darling."

Narcissa laughed, and Pansy smiled more genuinely, stepping carefully around Granger as if she was sizing her up. In reality, Pansy had had the lines of Granger's body memorised since she'd watched Millicent pin her to the wall of Umbridge's office in fifth year.

She'd always wanted to fuck Granger, had always wanted to wipe that knowing smirk off of her ugly, know-it-all face. She'd always wanted to shove up Granger's skirt and tug down her dirty, wet little Muggle knickers and find out if her cunt was as filthy as the rest of her.

Narcissa knew, somehow. Narcissa had always known. Pansy wondered sometimes if she was a Seer, the way she could read things that weren't written. But that wasn't something one asked in polite conversation, so Pansy enjoyed the mystery.

She'd stopped behind Granger, exactly where dear Draco had stood only moments earlier, and she could see the sticky white reminder of his cock slicked with her juices oozing out of her dirty twat. Pansy was repulsed.

"How long until the gate unlocks?" Pansy asked calmly, careful to enunciate her words in such a way that implied that she hoped it would be a very long time indeed. It was rude to turn up one's nose at a gift, after all.

Narcissa smiled icily through the bars, and Pansy supposed she hadn't guarded her words as carefully as she thought.

Pansy couldn't help but be nervous. She had been waiting for so long to be alone with Narcissa. It seemed like it had been ages since Draco and Lucius had both been away, but at least Draco's little romp with Granger earlier had earned her some fun of her own.

She was worried her comment had cost her some of that now, but there were only a few seconds of silence before Narcissa answered her, pushing off of the bars lightly and turning to make her way back up the stairs. Leaving them alone.

Pansy watched her go and finally turned her attention back to Granger, who was kneeling on the dirty floor and dripping salty come down her slick hot thighs.

Pansy let herself fall.

Her knees hit the cold stone of the floor and she cringed as she imagined how filthy this would make her. Granger was splayed before her, glancing over her shoulder at Pansy, and while she was sure she could never get as filthy as Granger, fucking a Mudblood in a dungeon was the sort of thing that one couldn't walk away from feeling clean.

Draco's spunk was still shining across her folds, thick and messy and slick, and Pansy slid her fingers across the wet white globs experimentally, feeling it slip-sliding over her fingers as they brushed against Granger's hot, wet cunt.

Hermione let out a stifled moan and Pansy raised her hand, bringing it down hard against the skin of her bottom without a moment's pause.

"You'll speak when I tell you to speak."

Granger made no sound of agreement, and Pansy was pleased. Draco's spunk dripped down her fingers and she smiled at the wet, shining mark they'd left on Granger's arse.

Just above her arse, Granger's hands were turning a tacky maroon shade under the ropes that Draco had really tied much too tightly. Pansy tsked quietly as she raised her wand, and Granger let out another muffled noise of release when her hands were freed.

Draco had always possessed an extra bit of venom for Granger, but Pansy found such torture pointless and distasteful.

"Roll over," she said, choosing to ignore Granger's second uninvited exclamation.

Granger shifted obediently, though stiffly, until she was lying on her back, her knees drawn weakly together and her arms trembling slightly at her sides. Pansy studied her expression quietly for a moment, making no move to touch her or demand anything further from her.

She wasn't sure what it was she expected to find there – anger, humiliation, fear, excitement – but she was surprised nonetheless. Granger's gaze was apathetic, and for a moment, this struck Pansy as so sad that she wasn't sure she'd be able to go on.

It was only a moment, though, and Pansy gritted her teeth, annoyed that Granger had managed to make her feel that way.

"Did Draco fuck you well, dear? Awfully lucky of you to have stumbled into his possession, wasn't it?"

Granger blinked at her, but said nothing. Pansy felt the irritation build.

"I assume he didn't kiss you. It's a pity, isn't it, when your cunt is worth more than your mouth?"

She had been hoping for a reaction, and there was one then; a slight tremble in Granger's lips. Pansy shifted, bringing herself up and over Granger until she was straddling her hips, letting her fingers toy idly with Granger's tiny breasts as she began to unbutton her own blouse.

She still said nothing. Pansy twisted a nipple cruelly between her fingers, and Granger squirmed underneath her.

"Though I suppose," Pansy continued, "your cunt has never been worth much either, has it Granger?"

Granger stared up at her blandly, and Pansy felt a shriek building in her lungs. She had half a mind to slap her pale, pasty face, to claw at her cheeks and breasts and sides. She wanted Granger to react. She couldn't bear this bland indifference.

But Pansy was not going to revert to such childishness. Not here, not now. Not with her benefactor upstairs and her gift splayed before her.

The shriek came out as a slow, steady sigh, and Pansy tucked a strand of bristly curls away from Granger's face before she leaned forward, pressing her lips against Hermione's. Pansy closed her eyes, kissing Granger with everything she had, every bit of grace, formality and technique she had learned over the years, and it wasn't like she was even kissing Granger anymore.

She seemed to give way beneath her and Pansy flushed and pulled away, staring down at her. Granger's expression had changed, finally, but it was still unreadable. Nevertheless, Pansy felt encouraged.

"Granger, have you ever eaten pussy?"

And it was gone, the brief softening of mouth and the emotion in her eyes. Granger was unreadable, undisturbed again. She was going somewhere, shutting Pansy out.

Pansy rutted slowly against Granger's midsection, discovering in one silken slide of her knickers against Granger's stomach that they were already damp. Tugging up the front of her skirt, she shoved her fingers down the front of her knickers, teasing herself as she slowly rocked her hips against Granger, watching, hoping, for some sort of reaction.

Granger's eyes were taking on the dull, glazed quality they'd had when Draco was fucking her, and her arms were still limp by her sides. She'd gone to that place again, away from this. Away from Pansy.

She remembered a saying, something her mother had told Pansy all through her Hogwarts days – "You'll attract more flies with honey than vinegar, darling." Well, Pansy had never seen the wisdom in such a saying. Why someone would want to attract flies was beyond her. Sweetness was overrated.

But Granger was a fly.

Pansy leaned forward again, her open blouse dragging across Granger's chest until her lace-clad breasts were pressing against Granger's and her mouth was just a breath away from those perfectly ordinary, chapped pink lips. Pansy shifted again this way, letting her lips brush Granger's just the slightest bit as their bodies slid against each other.

She could feel Granger's breathing striking her lips in soft nervous puffs, and she waited. Granger trembled underneath her and then she pushed up against her, pressing her mouth firmly against Pansy's, slipping her tongue past Pansy's lips and surprising her with her enthusiasm. Pansy wondered how long Granger had wanted her.

She pulled away before Granger was through, and her cheeks burned scarlet as she fell back against the floor of the dungeon, refusing to meet Pansy's gaze.

"Does Potter know…"

Pansy had intended to make that an insult. Does Potter know you're a cunt-licker?, perhaps. Pansy wasn't sure. She was faltering -- Narcissa wasn't here to guide her and Granger was confusing her.

"Does he know what?" Granger challenged, her voice every bit as obnoxiously overconfident as Pansy remembered. Still, she refused to look up at Pansy, her gaze fixed unblinking on the far wall.

"What are you doing here, Granger?"

Pansy felt her draw in a deep, shaky breath, but Granger didn't respond. Pansy let her hands slide down over Granger's breasts again, tracing her sides and skating across the hollow dips just above her hips. Granger's breathing hitched slightly, and Pansy lowered her head, letting her hair trace the curves of Granger's breasts as she planted kisses down her chest.

Granger's skin tasted of salt and sweat, but Pansy pressed on, swiping her tongue over a brown, budding nipple before catching it lightly between her teeth. A muffled squeak escaped Granger's mouth and Pansy slid two fingers between them, brushing Granger's clit and rutting up against her slick wet cunt.

Granger shifted her hips toward Pansy's fingers, searching for touch, for satisfaction. Pansy was almost pleased that Draco had done such a poor job in satisfying the girl, though she was also a bit insulted.

She swiped her fingers firmly over Granger's clit, her mouth still fixated on a firm little nipple, and Granger nearly screamed. Pansy could feel it in the way her breath hitched, in the tensing of her body. She was going to make Granger come.

Pansy wasted no time. Quickly and delicately, she pressed her fingers against Granger's dirty wet cunt, sliding two fingers easily inside, but only just. There was a moan and a shift of hips against her arm, but Pansy wouldn't fuck her any deeper than this, her fingers working firmly against Granger's muscles in insistent scissoring as Pansy released the nipple, kissing her way down to Granger's clit.

Granger's clit was swollen and red and shining and slick, and it tasted salty, sweaty, dirty. Pansy was just swirling her tongue over the tight little bud, just taking it between her lips and sucking, swirling, softly, still pressing and pushing her fingers against Granger's muscles – and Granger fell apart underneath her.

She couldn't go away to that place anymore, she couldn't escape Pansy anymore. She was here, crying out and shaking and twisting and writhing and Pansy wouldn't let her go. Pansy held on, held her down, worked her tongue over Granger's clit in tight little circles of pushing and sucking, and Granger screamed. Footsteps echoed off the dungeon walls, and Pansy knew that Narcissa had heard.

She buttoned her shirt up neatly and straightened her skirt as she stood, brushing a hand brusquely across her mouth to wipe away Granger's juices. Pansy resisted the urge to look back down at her as Narcissa approached the bars, an icy smile telling Pansy that she hadn't intended on letting Granger enjoy this.

Pansy did look back as Narcissa shut the cell behind them, but Granger had gone away again, her body still and calm on the cold dungeon floor and her eyes focused on the ceiling.

She expected that she would be sent home directly, but Narcissa led her into the drawing room, closing the double doors behind them as Pansy stepped into the room, searching for the tea tray.

There was no tea tray, and in the next moment, Narcissa's fingers had her wrist and she was spinning into her.

Narcissa kissed with skill and grace and formality, and somehow she'd worked her lipstick charm so that it only left marks when she wanted it to. Kissing Narcissa never felt dirty and getting fucked by Narcissa never felt wrong. It was more like penance than sin.

Pansy was ready. She was wet and hot and ready to be fucked over the sofa in the room where they'd have tea again next week, ready to create another secret that she'd share with Narcissa in smiles over scones.

She needed the taste of Granger out of her mouth, and she needed the weight of Granger off of her conscience. She could lose herself in Narcissa's kisses, and for a little while, she could pretend.