Since my second year, when it got around that I was caught making out with the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Marcus Flint, I've been branded as the "Slytherin Slut." It didn't matter to anyone that it was my first kiss; the label had already been given to me, and there was nothing I could do about it. That's what happens when you're the first girl in your year to be kissed.

So I decided that if that's what they were going to call me, I would live up to it. Two months later, I was caught in a broom cupboard, giving a random Ravenclaw a blowjob. It wasn't my first time. I had gone to Flint again for that. He had given me my first kiss, and been the first person I had ever given a blowjob to, along with other things. Flint was always my first in the areas of fooling around. I don't love him – I don't believe in love - but I've always gone back to him at the end of the day.

At the very beginning of my third year, he became my first in absolutely everything before I had turned thirteen. I can remember every single detail like it was yesterday. The way he undressed me slowly, almost lovingly (I say "almost" because love is not a real thing. It is just an ideal of the foolish), like I was something special and expensive. The gentle, wet kisses he rained all over my body. The way he stopped to make sure I was alright when I cried out in pain as I felt him enter me for the first time and I experienced the sharp pain that came with losing my virginity. The way we rolled over and over, fighting for dominance as my pain faded into intense pleasure that continued to peak as we moved together.

My next sex partner was Oliver Wood, Marcus' arch-rival, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. It was a stark contrast to how sex with Marcus had been only five weeks beforehand. We were both in The Hogshead, illegally obtaining alcohol from the sleazy barman, and both a little drunk. I noticed him looking at me lustfully for some of the time while he was there, and when he left to go to the bathroom, I followed him in there. He was just standing there by the cubicles as if he had been waiting for me all along. I moved closer to him and kissed him with all of the experience I had, which was more than he knew.

This time, there was no slow, gentle foreplay. Our kisses were savage, filled with lust and the hatred that burns eternal in the rival houses Gryffindor and Slytherin. My mind was fogged with alcohol and I vaguely remembered Wood pushing me up against the strong cubicle and the click of its door locking. My skirt hitched high around my hips and I felt my underwear being peeled down my legs to be abandoned somewhere on the dirty tiles. The next thing I remember was wave after wave of orgasm racking my body as Wood fucked me hard and fast against the cubicle wall with my legs wrapped tight around his hips. He didn't stick around long after we were done except to act all regretful and repenting like a typical hypocritical Gryffindor, and beg me not to tell his girlfriend what we had just done, or to let it slip to her that I was only thirteen. I went back to Marcus that night, and we did it hard and fast with me against the wall in his private dorm, screaming each other's names for what seemed like hours.

My friend, Lucas Nott, was my third sex partner only a few days later. I was sober this time, but I wish I hadn't been, because to be perfectly frank, it was terrible. Lucas had no idea what to do, and he didn't last very long, so I did the only thing I could do in that situation. I faked it and left as fast as I could, and we never talked of it again. Once again, I went back to Flint. I just turned up at his dorm that night, and he let me in without a word. We kissed frantically, and I found myself naked on top of him on the expensive Persian rug, my long nails raking across his pale chest and leaving red welts.

I don't like remembering my next time, because it practically classifies as rape. I even threw up after it happened. I was drunk again at the Hogshead, and decided to make my own way home. I was just staggering along with a silly little smile on my face, humming tunelessly. The next thing I remember were two boys from Ravenclaw, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein, coming up and chatting to me in an unusually friendly manner for them, considering how much they had ignored me for the past few years in the Slytherin-Ravenclaw classes. After that, everything started to blur. I remember a sign saying "The Leaky Cauldron", a bed, and me trying to push Terry and Anthony off me at different times but being too drunk to be successful. Nobody apart from Marcus would ever know that I had not fully consented to either one of them, because I made it out to be something else whenever anybody asked. Of course, Terry and Anthony went around telling everybody I had been a willing participant in a threesome, something which seemed to fit in perfectly with my "Slytherin Slut" brand. On the eve of Marcus' graduation, they were found beaten and hexed into near-oblivion with their own wands. Their attacker was never found.

I seemed to fall into a state of disconnection after that incident, and sex seemed to be the only way I could re-connect with myself for just a short time. I've had sex with more boys than I've actually told my friends, but if I can't remember names, I don't tell. For the rest of the year, the only faces that stood out were those of Marcus Flint and my DADA teacher, Professor Lupin.

For all of his mild appearance, Professor Lupin was not exactly a tame lover, being a werewolf and all. He tried to reject me the first time around, I remember, telling me that our relationship was strictly "Teacher-Student" and trying to make it anymore would result in disaster. Of course, I brushed that aside and for all his morals and love of what was supposed to be right, I don't remember hearing him reject at all when I guided his hands to my breasts and used my free hand to undo his belt and the zip on his trousers. He would always be a hypocritical Gryffindor at heart, Professor Lupin. He acted so moral and upright in public, but he was willing to fuck a thirteen – going on fourteen – year-old Slytherin student in his own classroom behind locked doors. That's all a Gryffindor is. A hypocrite. They act so proud of their so-called morals and do-gooder attitudes, but the things that some of them do away from the public eye would make Salazar Slytherin turn in his grave with disgust.

We did it more than once as well. Sometimes he laid me down naked onto his desk and we were slow but powerful, but most of the time I found myself with my legs wrapped tight around him so I wouldn't slip - clothed save for my underwear – while he fucked me against a wall with an animalistic fervour. Of course, this information got back to Dumbledore eventually – by the time it did, parents had become aware that he was a werewolf – and coupled with other issues, Dumbledore had no choice but to fire him and put a bad mark on his record. I doubt he'll ever get a good job again. After all, who's going to hire a man that's a paedophile as well as a werewolf?

A Slytherin called Graham Pritchard was also one I remember in-between Lupin and Marcus. One of the worst I've ever had, enough said. He lasted maybe a minute and had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Like I always did, I went to Flint's room that night and Graham became a nobody, just a number with a face in the back of my mind. I think it was around then that I began to wonder…Why was Marcus Flint the one boy that I always went back to?

With the exception of Draco Malfoy, the other sex partners – Theo Nott and Malcolm Baddock – are dim memories. Draco and I had been friends since we were toddlers, and sometimes it was only natural for a friendship to be upped one more level to a physical relationship. Sex had never felt so wrong. Having sex with Draco felt almost…incestuous because I knew him too well. So, I did what I always did in times of need. I went back to Marcus, even after he left Hogwarts. He gave me a PortKey to his apartment. Draco caught me out eventually. One night, I was too tired to leave, so I stayed with Marcus for the night, and we woke up in the bed together. Draco had found the PortKey by then (It had been in the form of a Golden Snitch) and had found us. To say the least, he wasn't happy. Our nine-month "relationship" was over. For one of the only times in my life, I felt guilty for hurting another person and began wondering if I should try and clean up my reputation a little.

So when I came back for my Fifth year, I decided I would only be with Marcus. Sure, we weren't in love, but whatever it was that we did have worked for me. He was reliable, honest and there were no strings attached in our liaison of sorts. This worked fine until I turned up one night and Marcus didn't respond when I kissed him, but pushed me away from him instead.

"Is something wrong?" I asked him. He sighed, pushing dark brown hair out of his face.

"I don't think we should do this anymore, Pansy." I frowned.

"Why? You don't find me attractive anymore?"  He shook his head.

"No, it's not that. It's…well…I've started seeing this girl…"

"You're sneaking around on me?" I demanded, my temper beginning to rise. Marcus rolled his eyes.

"How can I be sneaking around on you if we were never together to begin with?" He retorted. I knew as well as he did that we weren't together, but for some reason, actually hearing it with my own ears hurt more than any physical blow.

"Who is she?" I asked, trying to keep myself calm. I only betrayed myself through my shaking hands.

"I met her in the Ministry of Magic. Her name's Rhiannon. Rhiannon Rosier. I've actually been seeing her for about a month, and we've started to get serious so I thought…"

"So you thought you could just toss me out like yesterday's 'Daily Prophet'?" I finished sullenly, staring at the ground. "But then, what else would you do with me? I'm just the 'Slytherin Slut' after all. I'm good for a fuck or a blowjob but that's about it. Nobody cares that I'm human and I think and feel just like they do."

"Pansy-" Marcus reached out for my hand. For a moment, I gave in, then came to my senses and yanked my hand away.

"I hate you, Marcus." I said to him tonelessly before taking the PortKey out of his place.

We didn't speak again for ages. From what I heard, he and Rhiannon lived together for a while, then grew apart due to the long hours they were both working – In other words, they were each fucking other people at work -, and Rhiannon moved out. I became lost in a sort of black hole where I disconnected from myself once more to numb the feelings I felt from losing Marcus. There were no new names in my list of sex partners, just the same old faces over and over. I think I even went back to Draco at one point. I was at my absolute lowest point.

Then I started going out with Blaise Zabini and I thought that maybe I could get myself back on track. He would be the closest substitute I would ever have for Marcus. They moved almost exactly alike in the bedroom, and I found myself actually being faithful to him.

Unfortunately, my actions against Draco caught up with me and what I thought was a good relationship backfired on me. Draco tried to kill himself – Which he denies to this very day – and I found out while visiting him in the Hospital Wing that he had also been seeing Blaise. In other words, we were both being played.

And guess who I ran to so I could forget about it? None other than Marcus Flint. He was definitely surprised when I appeared in his room, but when I kissed him without so much as a greeting; he didn't push me away this time, but pulled me even closer instead and tangled his hands in my long, soft, black hair.

We took it slow this time, savouring every moment that we had. Our kisses were long and passionate as our clothing was slowly peeled away layer by layer. Just like my first time with him, he was making me feel special and delicate. There wasn't an inch of my body that he didn't cover in wet kisses, and when I finally felt him inside me, it was pure euphoria. We moved slowly, holding onto one another as he rocked against me at an agonisingly slow pace and I bought my hips up to meet each of his thrusts in an attempt to make him move faster. He laughed at me. Not the mocking, superior laugh that I heard him laughing at lowly Gryffindors, but a good-natured, almost "loving" laugh.

"Slowly, Pansy. We have all night, and I want this to last for as long as possible." Then he dipped his head down towards my ear. "And I want to see how many times I can make you orgasm."

I'm not going into anymore detail. That night means just too much for me to share it all. All I will say is that it was one night that I never wanted to end.

Now, its Christmas night, and Marcus is talking to me right now. We're both still sober (The drinking games don't start until we're all here) but not relaxed. He's flirting with me too. I can see the lust in his eyes, and my body tingles when he gently strokes my cheek with his index finger. His head dips down so he can kiss up my neck and up my face to my ear, where he whispers to me.

"What would you say to you and me…alone…in another room…right now?" He asks me in-between kissing my ear and cheek. I can feel a smile forming on my lips as I lean up to whisper in his ear.

"I think" I stop to kiss him "that sounds like a very" I stop for another kiss "good idea." He moves back and I hold out my hand, which he takes and leads me out of the room, away from the people, away from the house-elf servants and the noise.

The first empty, lockable room we come across is the library. Marcus drags me inside and quickly locks the door. We don't bother to undress or go slow this time, knowing that we have to be quick, but that just makes it more exciting. Marcus pulls off his outer robes, discarding them on the floor and pushes me back onto the plush lounge, removing my underwear with his free hand. It's hard and fast and incredible. I orgasm hard and fast, whimpering into his shoulder, and he does the same not long after.

I lay where I am after it's over, trying to catch my breath. Flint, for once, hasn't gotten up to get dressed once he has finished, but is staying where he is.

"Oh…Pansy…Baby…" He pants softly, nuzzling his face into my still-clothed breasts.

"Marcus. We should go back soon." I find myself saying rather reluctantly. I'd like to stay right where I am right now.

"You're right. We should." He replies, getting up after a minute and zipping himself up. I notice with a hint of amusement that his previously immaculate robes are crumpled from being thrown on the floor and stepped on at least once. Mine are probably a mess too, and my hair – which I had put up in a clasp for tonight – has come undone, but I really don't care.

We join the party again, and Marcus gets me a glass of DragonsBlood Vodka – My favourite drink – while we look around for our friends.

"Sod off, Lucas!" That sounds like Pavarti. I look around, trying to find the source of the voice, and quickly spot our friends in one corner of the room. Pavarti is looking sulky as she hands over a handful of Galleons to Lucas.

"Sore Loser!" He retorts, and everybody starts laughing as we come over to join them…