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Neville heaved a great sigh before entering the interrogation chamber. He fingered his wand in the holster strapped to his hip and glanced around the room quickly, the witch inside was known for being wily. Everything looked in order; pale grey walls, nondescript tile floor and the room empty aside from the wide metal table with two chairs and the suspect in question. She sat, looking fairly bored and disinterested in this entire process. She was admiring her sharp midnight black nails and didn’t even spare him a glance as he approached.
“Do you understand why you’re here, Miss Parkinson?” He dropped a manila folder onto the table before taking his seat and she finally looked up at the sound of his stern voice.
She pouted in mock innocence and widened her dark brown eyes, sharp and wicked against her pale skin, “Because I’ve been bad ?”
He kept his face grave and flipped the folder open, sliding a series of pictures across the table, the images depicted her performing magic so dark the photos had started to erode around the edges. She looked untamed, unhinged and unruly in every photograph, her lips curving into painted red snarls, baring her teeth and unleashing havoc from her wand. Her wand, which was eleven inches, aspen wood, unyielding with a unicorn hair core and currently conveniently missing .
She tapped her fingers across the photographs, “Muggle photos? Easily faked,” she arched her brow and pushed the pictures back toward him.
“We had to obliviate an entire block of muggles after we obtained these, you severely broke the statute of secrecy on top of all the other charges listed, you’re not getting out of this, Miss Parkinson,”
“Now, Neville,” the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at the way she purred his name, “It is Neville right? Please, call me Pansy. If we’re going to be stuck in this room getting to know each other, we should be on a first name basis. I waved the right to a solicitor, does that not count for something?”
“You can call me Auror Longbottom, thank you,”
“Now that’s quite a mouthful,” she smirked, “Much like other parts of you, I imagine,”
Neville struggled to maintain his composure at the sinful way she appraised him, she even leaned forward in her chair to sneak a peek at what lay beneath the table. He refused to dignify that insinuation with a reaction instead pretended to be reading his notes. He did allow himself a glance or two over the top of the folder. There was no denying that Pansy Parkinson was an attractive woman, she was cunning, unpredictable and she had a biting wit. Everything about her was sharp and vicious, her voice, her blunt cut hair tucked behind one ear, her eyeliner, her stare. She was formidable, she was determined and she was terrifying. She was also devastatingly beautiful. Much like certain types of snakes, she could lure you in, entice you and determine all of your soft spots before striking fast and deadly. She needed to be carefully trapped, unaware that she'd been cornered until it was much too late. Neville had been selected to conduct this interrogation for a reason, he was a kind, upstanding, diligent man. Exactly Pansy’s type and even more than that, he was unendingly patient.
He continued his feigned reading, taking errant notes here and there, humming to himself as she stared at him. At first she maintained her air of nonchalance, crossing one of her long, flawless legs over the other and pulling a stick of droobles bubblegum out of her cleavage, unwrapping it and popping it into her mouth. She chewed, pushing and stretching the gum with her tongue and teeth. She blew out a small bubble until she met Neville’s eye and she snapped it between her lips with a sudden pop .
“No food or drink in the interrogation room, Miss Parkinson, you know that,” he chided, holding his hand out while looking back down at the file. He felt the gum fall into his palm and he flicked his eyes up and smiled. She furrowed her brow but then he put the gum into his own mouth and snapped a bubble mockingly at her. Her eyes turned molten at his little power play, the corner of her lips twitching upward and she hummed in mischievous approval.
He cleared his throat, choosing to simply move onto the rigorous line of questioning, “Miss Parkinson, where were you on the evening of March 15th of this year between the hours of approximately 8 PM and 10 PM?”
She tapped her chin, before leaning back in her chair and grinning, “I was in the bath,”
“In the bath?”
“Yes, Neville, I imagine you also bathe from time to time?”
“You were in the bath for two hours?”
“I was very dirty ,” she winked and leaned forward again, this time her dress dipped down to expose the skin of her neck and the swell of her cleavage.
He leveled a look as severe as he could manage while trying to maintain eye contact.
“Can anyone corroborate this?”
She pouted again, her full lips were blood red and they looked decadently soft. Neville shook his head, trying to dismiss that dangerous train of thought before she reached out and touched the top of his hand that was resting on the photos, “Unfortunately, it was a rather lonely bath,”
His breath hitched but he stayed otherwise still as a statue, not removing his hand as she lightly traced shapes over his skin with her nails, “Is this where I’m meant to feel sorry for you? If no one can account for your whereabouts, I’m not sure what you exp–”
“Neville,” she pushed off the table and stood, leaning closer and closer to him with a smile so heated and dangerous looking, he stopped breathing, “being an Auror must be terribly lonely too, long hours, late nights, no one to appreciate you, take care of you, no one to let you take out all of that frustrated, pent up energy on,”
His lips parted slightly and she glanced at them before biting her own. He stood up and moved toward her, mirroring her stance and daring her to close the, now very narrow, gap between them, “You have no one to corroborate your whereabouts, we have documented proof of you using dark magic in front of muggles and you have refused to present your wand for weighing,”
She kept looking at him like she had a death sentence and he was her last meal. He wanted to smack that smug smile off of her face. Then she started to laugh and he lost it. His hand flew out and wrapped around her delicate throat and he felt her breath catch.
“You’re not getting out of this, we’ve got you and you’re going to waste away in a cold cell, remembered only for being a dirty, death eater whore,” He pulled her so close he could see her eyelashes flutter with the force of his words. He let his eyes rake over her flushed face, her full lips, her heaving chest, strained as he held her firmly by the neck. He let his gaze wander lower and he inhaled sharply when he saw her nipples hard under the thin silk of her slinky emerald green dress. He let go and she fell back onto her chair, panting and glowering murderously at him.
“I didn’t realize Aurors were allowed to use such excessive force,” she spat.
He grinned, “We’re not,” It was then that she finally looked around and realized she was alone.
“Surely you’ll face disciplinary action for–”
“I didn’t use my wand, where is your proof? There isn’t another Auror, a guard, a single soul within a hundred feet of where you’re sitting, so you can either give me your confession now and go back to Azkaban to await your trial, or you can continue to test me or wait me out in hopes that I break first. But here’s the thing, little viper , I am an extremely patient man and there are plenty of ways I can coax the truth out of you without using an ounce of magic,”
Finally, she had the decency to look a little rattled, but it quickly melted away and she hopped up onto the table, leaning back on her hands with her legs, clad in black tights, propped up, bent at the knees, “What’s your price, Auror Longbottom?”
He raised an eyebrow, “You can’t bribe me, Pansy,”
“Oh, it’s Pansy now is it? Now that you’ve demonstrated your superior physical prowess, proven what a big strong man you are? Everyone has a price,”
“Not me,” he said firmly.
“There’s nothing I could offer you? I have vaults brimming with gold, priceless artifacts, heirloom jewelry, I have more information than your department would know what to do with! You already plan on taking my soul with the kiss, why not peek into my mind instead, take my memories?”
“I’d sooner believe you’d turn over your body than trust your tainted memories,” he glared openly, seething at her but she didn’t even flinch.
“Is that what you want? The good, heroic snake slayer , secretly fantasizing about death eater cunt?”
Before he could respond, she turned her body to face him and let her knees drop open. The heels of her pointed stilettos together, her dress hiked up to her waist, her knickers barely visible through the stretched fabric of her stockings, she fell back onto her elbows, offering herself to him like a veritable feast.
He was transfixed at the display before him, she squirmed under his burning gaze. He wordlessly stood, placing his hands on her knees and, with an agonizingly slow pace, sliding them over her thighs to the seam of her tights resting over her core. He gripped the fabric in his fists before looking up at her face and faltering only slightly at the tiny hint of apprehension he saw. But she nodded and he tore the material apart, exposing her black lace knickers that barely concealed her pussy.
She gasped as her skin was exposed to the air but let it taper off into a mocking cackle, “There you go again, thinking a presentation of your unbridled masculinity is going to bring me to heel,”
“You’ll be begging, soon enough, little viper,” He took a firm hold of the flimsy lace of her knickers and tore those clean off of her, tucking the ruined fabric into the pocket of his trousers. He shrugged off his Auror robes and gripped her beneath her thighs, yanking her sharply to the edge of the table so fast she didn’t have time to retort.
“Do you want to admit to me how wet you are?” He teased as he trailed his fingers over the skin of her inner thigh. Her thighs were trembling slightly but her face was locked in a defiant glare.
She pursed her lips and he tsked, “I’ll have to find out for myself, I suppose,” he slipped one finger over her clit, teasing it before groaning at how dripping wet she was. He swirled his fingers around, spreading her arousal all over her cunt, “you’re such a mess,”
She opened her mouth, no doubt with some smart remark, but he sank two fingers inside her and nothing escaped her throat but a shocked squeal. Her head dropped back, baring her elegant neck, her chest rising and falling in rapid pants as he worked his fingers. He scissored them inside her, stretching her to the best of his ability and bringing his other hand up to circle her clit with his thumb.
She whined and rocked her hips against him and he increased his pace, thrusting harder and deeper, rubbing faster and firmer until she was a shaking, sobbing mess right on the edge of oblivion and he stepped back.
He had his trousers undone and his cock out before she could lift her head to berate him and he squeezed her thigh, lined himself up and drove all the way to the hilt in one relentless snap of his hips.
“FUCK!” she screamed, grasping at his forearms and digging her nails in deep, puncturing his skin.
He hissed through the pain, pounding into her harder, without mercy. She was squeezing him so tightly he had to bite through his own lip to keep from coming too soon, the metallic tang of his blood washing over his tongue. He wrapped a hand around her throat again, pulling her face to his and kissing her, hard. She groaned loudly into his mouth, her pleasure quivering against his lips and he bit and tugged at her lower lip with his teeth. She gasped, her cunt clenching sharply around him and he bit harder, her blood now mixing with his own leaving them both looking depraved and feral.
“This is what you have to offer, huh? This corrupted cunt?” He smeared his own blood over her lips and she pulled back, snarling, “This wicked mouth?” He kept a punishing pace, but he could feel her growing even wetter around him and she let her eyes fall closed as her breathy moans took on more body, increasing into wails and cries for the gods.
“Please!” she begged, tears escaping the corners of her eyes as he fucked her so savagely he could hardly reconcile his actions with his perception of himself.
“Please, what, are you asking for leniency? Do you want me to stop?” he slowed just barely and her eyes flew open.
“NO! Please, I need to come, please ,”
“Listen to you, listen to the sounds your debased little body is making for me,” he smiled as she winced at the sound of him plunging in and out of her soaking wet cunt, the squeak of her sweat slicked thighs against the metal table, the slap of his hands gripping and kneading roughly at her thighs, “such a sick little slut you are,”
“Oh gods!” she sobbed, her back arching off the table.
He knew she was right on the edge, this time he propped one of her legs up onto his shoulder, pressed himself even deeper and slipped one hand between them to circle firmly over her clit and as she broke, screaming and writhing against him, he rained sweet words over her, cleansing her body of all the degradation.
“That’s so perfect, baby, fuck , you feel so good, always so good for me, my sweet perfect girl, that’s it, gods you’re so gorgeous when you come, sweetheart, I love you so fucking much,”
She whimpered as she came down slowly, settling into that soothing space between reality and fantasy and smiling as he came with a groan and a string of praises for her. “I love you too, Nev,” she whispered, her voice raw.
Neville flicked his wand out of its holster and dismissed the enchantment around them, revealing their small cozy kitchen in their warm, comforting cottage just outside a tiny muggle village in the English countryside. He gathered her up into his arms off of the kitchen table and strode to their bedroom, curling around her on the bed and stroking her hair softly.
“Thank you, my love,” she murmured, taking his hand from where he’d splayed it across her abdomen and pressing a kiss to his palm.
“I live to serve you, Pans, you know that,” he kissed her shoulders and conjured a glass of water, rubbing her back as she drank it and muttering I love yous into her skin.
“When is your next extended shift? Is it Thursday to Sunday?”
“Yeah, that’s the last one for awhile though, Harry promised, I know it’s hard for you to be home with the kids for that long,”
“It’s hard for me to be away from you that long, and it’s hard on them too, they’re only three, Nev, they don’t understand,”
“I know, like I said, this is it and then I think I’m going to talk to Harry about retiring at the end of Spring,”
She sat up with a broad smile, “Do you mean it? No more missions? No more danger? No more worrying about you not coming home? Wait, does that– Nev, does that mean–”
“I applied for the position with the school, yes, Pomona is teaching her last year and Minerva has made an offer to start in the fall,”
Pansy shrieked excitedly before realizing they were no longer under the protection of any spells and she covered her mouth so as to not wake Willow and Ivy. She threw her arms around him and he laughed into her neck. “Oh, love, I’m so happy for you, you’re going to be great! I’m so proud of you,”
He kissed the top of her head and pulled her back down into a cuddle. They held each other in warm, comfortable silence until she sniggered.
“What are you giggling about?”
“You know,” she craned her neck to press soft kisses to his collarbone, “I’ve always had a bit of a professor fetish,”
“Oh, you have, have you?” He gave her waist a squeeze and pulled her onto his chest as she laughed. “What am I going to do with you?”
She ran her fingers through his hair as her eyes softened, “Everything,”
He smiled, kissing the tip of her nose, “Forever, my little viper,”