Hate You Very Much

Disclaimer: I don't own it, I don't do this for profit.

A/N: Warning for scenes of an adult nature and bad language.

Harry cleared the Marauder's Map and put it back in his pocket. The Map wouldn't lie, it was telling him Malfoy was on his way up to the seventh floor right now. The previous evenings Harry had somehow missed him, and he was sure that the Slytherin ponce was using the Room of Requirement for something... the only question was, what?

He hoped that if he only could make it in time, the door would still be there and he could catch the junior Death Eater in the act. Harry's shoes sounded a patter through the empty hallway as he rushed to the painting of the dancing trolls... only to find a blank wall.

"Dammit! Too late again!" Harry cursed out loud. "You can't be this lucky all the time, bastard..."

A meow resounded through the corridor, and Harry turned back to the direction he came from. There stood Mrs. Norris, the cat of the odious caretaker Argus Filch. Harry bit back a curse as the cat trained her eyes on him, narrowed them, and turned. He knew from experience that this meant Filch would be coming up on him in a moment... he had to run.

"Quick, Potter... use those Quidditch reflexes," Harry ordered himself under his breath. If he could only make it past to the other end, there was a broom cupboard he could hide in. He rushed to make it in time, and just as the light of Filch's lamp lit up the other end of the corridor, he managed to pull open the door. Looking over his shoulder to confirm he was not spotted, Harry rushed inside and crashed into something soft.

"Ouch! Watch it, moron!" came from below him. Harry scrambled to his feet, and whipped out his wand.

"Lumos," he cast. Then his eyes narrowed as he recognised the other person inside, who was still sitting on the floor, glaring up at him. Long hair that appeared black in the dim light, greyish pale blue eyes, and a nose that wasn't concave at all any longer. If it weren't for the habitual sneer on her face, she could even be called beautiful.

"Parkinson," Harry said. "What do you think you are doing here?"

"What do I think? I should be asking that!" Pansy glared at him as she scrambled back to her feet. "Unlike you, Potter, I am a Prefect, and thus allowed to be here. I feel inclined to assign you a detention for assaulting me."

"Assaulting you? You're the crazy bint hiding in a broom closet! I bet it isn't even your patrol round!" Harry accused her, his wand sticking up in her face.

"Don't you dare point that thing at me, Potter," Pansy sneered. "Cast a bluebell charm, unless that is too difficult for you?"

"I'll have you know some of us don't need to rely on crooked teachers to get good grades," Harry accused her back. To show off, he silently conjured a floating orb of light, then put his wand away again.
"So what are you doing here, Prefect Parkinson? Hiding from Filch?" Harry looked her up and down. "Or are you looking for cleaning tools to improve your look?"

"Screw you, Potter," Pansy said, glaring at him. "It's none of your business what I was doing here. What are you doing here?"

"None of your business," Harry threw her words back at her.

"I demand you tell me now!" Pansy said, a little loud.

"Be silent!" Harry half hissed at her. "Do you want us to get caught?"

"Caught by whom? Is... is Draco out there?" the last, she said a little hopeful.

"Aha! Still pining for the ponce, are you?" Harry looked triumphant. "Maybe he is, maybe he isn't. But I'm more concerned about Filch."

"I know why you are here," Pansy sneered yet again. "You're lusting after Draco, aren't you?"

"What?" Harry's eyes went wide. "I'm not! I hate his guts!"

"Methinks he does protest too much," Pansy got an evil smile. "We all know about your failed date with that Chang bint... that's it, isn't it, Potter? You're gay for Malfoy!"

"Shut up," Harry snapped at her.

"The Boy-Who-Lived, a little fairy... oh I can't wait until I tell everyone else," Pansy looked past him.

"I am not gay!" Harry said a little louder. "Shut the hell up!"

"Sure you're not, Potter," Pansy let out a short laugh. "As if you even knew what to do with a girl."

"Shut. Up." Harry started to see red, and menacingly stepped closer to her.

"Ooh, gonna hit a girl? What a hero... or are you going to molest me, Potter?" Pansy's expression changed to a strange one he had never seen before, but she was not afraid, that was clear.

"What? Molest?" Harry stopped getting closer. "No! I'd never –"

"Because you're gay, I know," Pansy turned her nose up in disdain, and for a moment Pug Nose Parkinson was back. Then she looked back at him, and mockingly said: "Bet you can't even get that hard, Potter. Fag boy."

Harry slammed his right hand against the wall to her left, hard. "I told you to shut up, slut!" he yelled in her face.

"Prove it then. Prove you're not gay," Pansy dared him.

"If you don't shut the hell up, I will," Harry nearly barked in her face.

"Have you ever even seen a girl's breasts, Potter?" Pansy reached her hands up, and unbuttoned her school blazer. It opened to reveal the white shirt everyone wore underneath.

"Of course I have," Harry lied. "And I'm not interested in your flat chest."

"Flat?" Pansy looked incredulous. "Are you blind, Potter? I have the best rack in Slytherin!"

"As if," Harry sneered. "Are you even really a girl, Parkinson? Maybe that's why you want me to be gay so badly?"

"Fuck you," Pansy said in an almost flat tone. In one quick move, she pulled her shirt over her head, revealing two moderately sized tits held constrained by a green bra. "Flat? Look again, fag boy."

Harry looked down briefly, then back at her face. "I've seen bigger on the firsties," he lied.

Pansy's eyes narrowed, and she pushed him, hard. Harry stumbled back and fell on his rear. When he looked back towards Pansy, something green hit him in the face, a piece of green fabric.
"You are such an arsehole, fag boy! Call me flat again, I dare you!" Pansy yelled at him. She stood over his legs, bare-chested, and glaring down. Her breasts were poking out, and even in the dim light Harry could see the dark areola crested by two perky nipples.

"I told you..." Harry rushed to his feet, and slammed Pansy against the back wall, a little hard, "Don't call me gay!" He pushed in against her, allowing her little space to stand, her back flat against the wall and her front pressed against him.

"Fag," Pansy nearly whispered. "Harry the fag Potter."

"You asked for it," Harry growled. Blinded by anger and not a little lust, he took Pansy's left hand in his right, and forced it against his crotch. "Feel that, slut? Who's gay now?"

Pansy swallowed. The rock-hard mess he forced her to feel was something she was unfamiliar with, oh sure she knew intellectually she had her hand on his hard-on, but she was a good girl, thank you very much.

"Thinking of Draco I see," she said, looking in his eyes and challenging him.

"Fucking slut," Harry growled. He let go of her hand, only to move it to her skirt. His left hand also found its way there, and in a swift yanking movement, Pansy's skirt and knickers were around her ankles. "Call me gay just one more time and I'll really prove to you I'm not."

Pansy breathed in deeply. Her hand was still hovering by Harry's crotch, and she thought she could feel him pulse even through the fabric. Slowly she searched out the zipper of his trousers, and opened it. "Fag," she softly said when something impossibly hot and hard hit the top of her hand.

"Slut," Harry growled. He put his hands on her rear, and lifted her up against the wall while moving closer. Pansy's hand narrowed around his member, and she grabbed it so it was lining up with her. "Fucking slut," Harry said. He adjusted his grip on her so she slid down a little. Pansy let out a sharp breath as she felt his glans press against her virginal folds.

"F... fag. You don't even know what you're doing," she breathed out, almost inaudibly.

Harry growled. Pansy shuddered in response, as she felt his entire body shake, from his strong arms that still held her up, to the hard member that now started to slowly separate her folds. She considered insulting him again, but just as she breathed in to do so, Harry lost his grip on her a bit.

"Aaaaaeeeeeiii!" Pansy let out a scream as gravity did its job. A thin membrane inside her was ripped open as Harry's rigid cock burst through it, forced to do so by her entire weight pushing her down.

"Fuck... fucking fag bastard," she said through clipped teeth, fighting away the tears in her eyes.

Harry was too out of it to respond. All he knew was he wanted more. He moved his hips forward, pushing in more, and in the process pushing Pansy back up against the wall.

"Bastard. You're fucking me," Pansy panted out. "Does it feel good, fag boy, to have a real woman?"

"Fucking slut," Harry growled. Both moaned at the same time as he bottomed out in her, then instinctively he pulled out a bit, and slammed back in. "I hate you," he said.

"I hate you too," Pansy said between moans. "I... I can't believe you're raping me, Potter."

"You did this to yourself, slut," Harry countered. "I warned you, multiple times."

"Fuck me," Pansy breathed out. "You're fucking fucking me, fucker."

"Yes... yes I am," Harry agreed. "If only you weren't... such a bitch, I might even like this."

Pansy groaned deeply as he claimed her deepest folds yet again with a deep thrust. "What... what are you going to do, Potter? Do you want... to cum inside me?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Harry panted back. "Slut. You're nothing but a slut."

"Don't you dare cum inside," Pansy moaned. "Finish up already... ooooh..."

Harry felt his orgasm approach, and tried to pull out. But he was stopped when he realised Pansy had her legs clamped tight around him.
"Parkinson... let go... I'm close..."

"Fuck you, Potter," Pansy moaned. "You... can't order me what to do. Don't you dare cum inside me."

Harry tried to move out of her, but if anything, her legs pushed him in closer. "I... I need to pull out now," he warned her again.

"Tough... luck... aresehole..." Pansy breathed back. "Oh Merlin... you're cumming inside me, aren't you? You bastard... mmmmmmm"

Harry grunted as his balls seemed to twitch, and he couldn't hold back any longer. Rope after rope of cum left his cock and disappeared deep inside the Slytherin girl. Pansy had her eyes closed and was biting her lower lip as she embraced him with both arms and legs, and she was shuddering and moaning as he came again and again.

Finally Pansy released her grasp on him. Harry moved out of her, his now soft dick wet with their juices. He helped Pansy slide down to her feet and saw her move all the way down until she was sitting. As he started to put away his limp organ in his pants again, he was surprised to hear soft laughter.

Pansy sat on the floor, her right hand between her legs where a gooey mixture of fluids leaked out.
"You fucked me good, Potter... maybe I'll have to admit you're not gay, after all," she said. Looking straight at him, she moved her wet hand to her mouth, and licked the fingers clean. "Salty," she commented.

"I hate you, Pansy," Harry said in a soft tone. He took out his wand from his back pocket, aimed it at her, and cast a silent cleaning charm.

Pansy didn't acknowledge this as she started dressing. Finally both were dressed, and standing face to face again, both looking flustered.

Harry turned to open the door, when her hand on his shoulder turned him back.

"Potter?" Pansy said and Harry opened his mouth to reply. Before he could though, Pansy crashed her lips against his. She embraced him again while their tongues duelled for supremacy. The kiss was only broken when both seemed to need air.

"Same time tomorrow? And... I hate you too. Harry," Pansy called over her shoulder, moving out of the broom closet and disappearing around the corner.