Disclaimer: I'm not making money. I'm not JK Rowling. I bet I write better sex scenes than her. :-)

Ballade #3

A/N and a warning: There is a lemon in this story. I tried to avoid being excessively explicit, but the lemon was absolutely 100% necessary for the story to proceed how I wanted. If this offends you, please stop reading now. If you're just in it for the explicitness, I don't know if you'll like this either – I tried to keep it at about the level of a cheesy romance novel. Nonetheless, if you want to read even given this warning, I hope you enjoy. This is a companion piece to Chopin's Ballade #3.

Harry was eating lunch in the Great Hall, when felt someone's eyes on him.

He looked around the room, trying to find out who, and finally, across the room, he saw her. Staring at him, almost gazing, with a thoughtful look on her face, if a little sad. She saw him returning her look, and dropped her head down, pinking a little. She ignored the students chattering around her.

Hermione noticed his look towards the Slytherin table, with a pensive look on his face.

"Everything all right, Harry?", she asked.

Harry turned to her. "I... don't know, honestly." He composed himself. "Have you studied for potions yet?"

And, with that clever bit of redirection accomplished, Harry was lost in thought as Hermione chattered about lacewing flies and the interaction of magical ingredients.

Sitting at the Slytherin table, Pansy Parkinson was lost in thought as well.

Pansy Parkinson was not beautiful. She knew that. Oh, sure, she was pretty by any standards, with long, black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a puggish face that nonetheless hid a cunning intelligence, but she knew that she was not desirable in anyone's eyes. She sighed to herself, and knew that her lot in life was to marry Draco Malfoy, and her parents had set up a contract to that effect with the Malfoys before she was born. However, she was not attracted to him at all, in fact, she found the little silver-haired ponce somewhat repulsive. She was pretty sure he returned her feelings in that regard, as she had found him and Theodore Nott engaged in what appeared to be a rather passionate tryst in their common room when they thought no one else would be around. She shuddered. That was a memory she'd rather forget.

However, she knew that in a few years, she'd be married off, and that she would be forced to bear Malfoy's heir, and that her life was going to be the kind of life she would never choose for herself. She may not be the most beautiful girl, and her parents may have knocked out every bit of self-esteem they could so that she would make a good pureblood wife, but she knew that she still had power, and she was going to use it. Her mind made up (and with a pleasant shiver of anticipation), she grabbed a parchment and some paper and began writing.

The next morning, Harry was sitting at his usual place in the Great Hall, eating his breakfast, when a piece of paper appeared on his plate. He picked it up and read it. He looked up at Pansy and nodded.

She smiled.

That evening, after dinner, Harry waited for Pansy in the entrance hall outside of the Great Hall, and they went outside. She guided him to a convenient bench and they sat down.

"Parkinson", he said.

"Potter", she said, then looked down. "May I call you Harry?"

"Why?", he said. "You and your friends have done nothing but harass me ever since I started here! What right would you possibly have to assume that kind of familiarity with me?"

She lowered her head.

"You're right, Ha-Potter. I'm sorry."

He nodded. "What do you want?"

"Direct as usual, I see. Typical Gryffindor."

Harry's face contorted and he stood up. She grabbed his arm. "No, no, sit down. I didn't mean it that way. Well, I did, but... I didn't want... These things... these things are hard to get past."

He sat back down. "What do you want, Parkinson? No games. I'm not as Gryffindor as I seem."

She nodded. "No games. I promise."

He looked her in the eyes. He could see no malice and no deceit. Just a kind of vulnerability that he didn't expect to see in the eyes of that particular Slytherin. She was... sad.

"Alright. But I ask you again. What do you want?"

She lowered her head, and was quiet. Finally, quietly, she spoke.

"I don't want it to be like this."

"Like what?"

"I'm supposed to marry that little ponce Malfoy. He doesn't like me and I don't like him. I know that when I marry him, he won't want me. He'll sire a son and then never touch me again – except for to hit me. I fear he is going to follow in the foot steps of his father. I mean – I still believe purebloods are superior and all, but that doesn't mean I like the way he treats his enemies. Or even his friends."

A tear threatened to leak down her cheek, and she allowed it to. She turned her face to him, imploring him to understand, to listen to the question she was asking him, to accept the precious gift she was offering him – a boy she didn't know, but felt she could trust.

"I don't want him to be my first, Potter. I don't want him to be the first man with his hands on me. I don't want my only memories to be of him."

She lowered her head, and pinked a little.

"M-Make love to me, Potter. Please."

He looked at her, really looked at her. He dove in through her eyes, and past her eyes, into her very soul, and still saw no deceit. All he saw was a desperately lonely girl, who was being forced into a life she didn't want, and he took pity on her. Many different things were running through his head. As an alive male he did notice her womanly curves and was very intrigued. He knew that this would be a really good way to take something from Malfoy that he desperately wanted, right out from under his nose, and he also knew that he could not resign this horribly lonely girl to her fate without giving her something pleasurable to remember. He was a male, but he was still noble at heart, and he would not have done it if it were entirely selfish.

But it was a little selfish. He knew that she knew it. He also knew that she had her own reasons for asking, and was alright with that, as she was being a little selfish as well. He made up his mind.

Without a word he stood up. She looked dejected, until he offered her his hand.

"Lead the way."

They found an unused classroom, and after entering, she locked the door with a colloportus spell, and then turned and looked at him. There was a gleam in her eye that she hadn't seen before, but it was still mixed with sadness.

"Be gentle, Potter", she said, quietly. "It's my first time."

He smiled at her and closed the distance, slowly. "It's mine, too. And please call me Harry."

She smiled. "Pansy", she said breathlessly, as their mouths slowly came closer.

And he kissed her.

It was not a rough kiss, it was a gentle and tender kiss, for Harry had already decided that he was not going to take advantage. Yes, he wanted her, but he was doing this for her, and any pleasure he got out of it was a very nice bonus. And, yes, this was quite pleasurable, he thought, as she wrapped her arms around him. He could feel her surrendering, as something inside of her gave, and a tear leaked down her cheek.

She pulled her mouth back. "I've wanted this for so long, Harry. Someone who... someone who I chose. Someone who I choose... Someone..."

He just eased her head against his chest and stroked her hair. She sobbed quietly. After a minute, she looked back up, eyes glistening.

"Someone who I can pretend loves me."

Harry's heart broke, and he guided her face back to his and kissed her again. This time, there was meaning behind it. He found himself genuinely caring about her, at least for this moment, and she could feel it. She sighed contentedly, and with a bit of a shiver, she disentangled herself from him and stepped back.

She looked him right in the eyes, and unclasped her robe.

It fell to the ground.

She was now wearing absolutely nothing. Her whole body pinked as she stood in front of him, completely vulnerable.

Harry's breath hitched. "You're beautiful, Pansy", he said in wonder, as he traced a finger down her collarbone. She shivered and the air began smelling of her arousal.

Her eyes smoldered. "You're wearing far too many clothes", she said, as she had rehearsed in her mind ever since she had decided she wanted him, as she divested him of his robes. She saw his too-large clothing, and her eyes flicked up.

Harry sighed.

"It's a long story, Pansy. I'll tell you if you want. But right now, we have business."

She smiled. "Yes, Harry. We have business."

She helped him out of his clothes and gasped as the evidence of his own arousal popped out. It was not a particularly amazing specimen, but it was hers, at least tonight, and she was pleased. She touched it with a finger and was fascinated at his reaction – it was like it had a mind of its own. She had never seen one before, and it was amazing.

His breath hitched and he started trembling a little bit. "That feels... amazing", he said, rather huskily.

She knelt down. His eyes went half lidded as she smiled, and then licked him.

Harry knew pleasure. It did not take long for him to express that pleasure in a rather sticky and messy way. After he was done, she took her wand and cleaned herself off, and he sank to his knees himself.

"That was... that was"... he gasped, not even having words. She smiled, amazed at the fact that she was able to elicit that reaction in him. Finally after collecting his thoughts, he took his own wand, and conjured a mattress. She allowed herself to be guided down to the mattress, and he took stock of her, a vision with her black hair splayed out, her legs spread, every bit of her exposed to him, and a look in her eyes of utter wanton lust.

He knelt down next to her, and whispered into her ear "Thank you for that, Pansy. It was amazing. Now allow me to return the favor".

She nodded, her eyes half lidded, as she waited expectantly.

He started with her lips, and then trailed kisses down her body, until he found her beautiful mounds. He took one in his mouth, and encouraged by her whimpers, paid quite a bit of attention, listening to her cues as she told him what felt good and what didn't. Unexpectedly, at one point, she shuddered and cried out. Out of breath, she smiled down at him.

"I've never felt anything like that before!", she said.

"Did you?", he said, removing his mouth for just a moment.

"I.. I think I did. It was wonderful. Please, don't stop", she said, as she caressed his head encouragingly.

He smiled and began trailing kisses further down, and she felt herself starting to shake.

Then her eyes went wide as he found... her.

Oh Merlin, she thought, that is the most amazing wonderful incredible thing I have ever felt in my life...

And it just kept getting better as he continued exploring her with his mouth, making what she had felt just a scant couple of minutes before seem like a little twinge as the feelings just kept getting more intense and more intense... she couldn't hold it in any longer, and with a stifled scream, her body just... lost control.

And she loved it. Really, really loved it.

There were no words.

No words at all.

Well, four words.

"Harry. Inside me. Now." she gasped out as she rode out yet another intense wave of pleasure.

"Please...", she whimpered, her body now having a mind of its own as it craved more and more of his sweet love.

He didn't need a lot of convincing, and he kissed his way back up her body, until he found himself poised to accede to her request. She smiled. He kissed her intensely.

"Are you sure, Pansy? I've heard this can hurt."

"Harry, I ride horses. It won't hurt. I promise."

With that, he smiled, and she guided him in.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and he gasped. He'd never felt anything like that before. It was warm and tight, and welcoming. She pulled his head to hers, wrapped her legs around his own, and that was all of the encouragement he needed as he proceeded to pound her into the mattress.

One minute later, she screamed. Two minutes later, she screamed again, and felt her body go completely, totally limp. A soft, golden glow encompassed them both as he spilled himself into her.

One minute after that, they were laying side by side, as he caressed her face, awash in the glow of good sex. They touched foreheads, and the both of them were awash with the most wonderful feeling of peace either had experienced. In his eyes, she was literally the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life, and all she wanted to do was bury her head in his chest and sleep. She felt so so safe.

"Oh Harry", she said, her heart still calming down, "That was the most wonderful thing ever. It was... I don't even have words. Thank you", she said, and was surprised to note that the gratitude came from the very core of her being. At least for now, something inside of her had been completed. It was such a good feeling.

Maybe he didn't love her for real, but she thought he did for that few minutes, and it was enough. It was more than enough. She felt loved, for the first time in her life.

Harry did have a question.

"Pansy", he asked quietly, as he gently stroked her beautiful back. "What was that golden glow?"

Her eyes went wide. "Golden glow?", she said, breathless.

"Didn't you see it?"

"I was kind of busy, you prat, as you were giving me the most intense... ooo", she said, shivering as she remembered. "Do you know what a golden glow means?"

"No, what does it mean?"

She smiled, the widest, most beautiful smile he had ever seen on her face, and her eyes danced with joy... real joy, absolute joy, the joy of someone who had just been rescued from the worst fate imaginable.

"It means we're married!"

"Married?"

"Married!" she said, and suddenly she started sobbing, real sobs, but sobs of triumph and joy. "Oh Harry, thank you thank you thank you, I know it's sudden and I had no idea it would happen and I'm sorry but it's amazing and finally I don't have to marry the ponce and I love you Harry, oh I love you I love you I love you thank you thank you", she said, babbling almost incoherently as she pulled him tightly to her, sobbing with joy and relief.

If Harry were to be honest, he wasn't too happy with the situation – it was sudden and he felt a little manipulated. But there was a beautiful girl next to him whom he thought he could grow to love, so he decided to take her at her word that she didn't mean it, and that while they had to have a very long, civil, and gentle talk soon about what all of this meant, right now he was going to enjoy a little more time with his... wife.

A/N

So Chopin's Ballade #3 has always evoked this kind of a scene to me. There is a pensive part that goes into a minor key with running notes in the bass, turning into a frankly erotic scene with triple-octave G sharps in the right hand, turning into a fairly interesting restatement of one of the main themes. Then.. it goes into something quiet and pensive, and turning into triumph, ending with a signature four note cadence that I'm not sure is actually in any other pieces in the repertoire.

That is why the story turned out how it did. I was truly trying to capture the mood of that piece. That's also why the lemon was needed. I could not have written it how I wanted without it.

I consider this an M for two reasons. 1) I tried to limit myself to descriptions of the effects of an act rather than the actual act itself, and 2) I've seen far, far worse stories allowed to stay here even after reporting them. So, we'll see.

Maybe someday I will write more, regarding the fallout from their marriage. But for now, I think I'll mark it complete.

So, with that said, I hope you enjoyed. I hope I got across what I wanted to. Thanks for reading.