New Appreciation

Canape Seven: New Appreciation

The spiked heels entered the lounge before he did, nearly shearing the head off the Fanged Geranium Neville had given them for an anniversary present. Not that Pansy would have minded. She was sure that plant hated her.

“Have a good day, darling?” she inquired as she looked up from the latest issue of Witch Weekly.

Her husband flounced into the room and dropped onto the couch next to her. He made a very pretty girl with his emerald eyes and unruly ebony curls. Pansy wasn’t sure whether she should be proud or envious.

“No,” he sniped. “My feet hurt. Wearing heels is worse than a bout of Cruciatus.”

“Yes, I’m sure Voldemort made all the Death Eaters wear Jimmy Choos when they disappointed him.”

“That would explain Snape’s attitude.” Harry pouted at his wife. “Feet. Hurt.” He leaned back against the sofa arm and poked his toes into her hip.

Pansy sighed as she grasped his ankle. “You can always give up, Potter.” She pressed her thumbs into the ball of his foot.

He moaned and said, “Not quitting. Not ever wearing heels again, either.”

She rolled her eyes. “Stop being such a pansy.”

“I don’t know how you do it everyday.”

“Do what?”

“It… IT!” He gestured at himself. “Makeup sticks to everything or sweats off in nothing flat. Stockings that run if you glance at them wrong. The bras have pointy bits that poke you in the ribs or under your arms—”

“You poor thing.”

“Thank you for being only mildly patronizing.”

“You’re welcome,” she said primly.

He rolled his eyes. “And these!” he exclaimed, cupping his breasts. “They jiggle all over the place. They’re in the way constantly. I forget they’re here and keep mashing them into things.”

“You might want to get used to those,” Pansy drawled. “We witches don’t generally walk around groping ourselves.”

“It’s a bleeding wonder you don’t!” Harry retorted. “I can’t believe yours aren’t bruised all the time.”

“Years of practice,” she muttered.

“I heard that.” He sighed. “I can’t wait until this assignment is over. To top it all off, I think I’ve wrenched my back. It aches something awful.”

She made a noise of sympathy. “Should I get the hot water bottle?”

“I suppose,” he bleated, reclining fully on the sofa. “You know, my abdomen hurts too. Like someone’s poking needles through it.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Oh? What did you have for lunch, Harry?”

“A chip butty and a chocolate shake.”

“I think you’re getting your period, luv.”

Harry sat up, overcome with horror. “It feels like this?! Every month?!”

That explains the excessive petulance… or not, thought Pansy.

“My… Goddess, woman, you’re a—” His eyes were filled with admiration.

“I know, I know.” Her smile was smug.

“How long will this last?”

She shrugged. “About three to six days.”

He groaned in misery. “Six days?”

“Look at the bright side, honey—at least you’re not up the duff.”

~~*~~*~~*~~

Originally written for the live journal community pphp_ldws.

Prompt: Piece must include banter and be inspired by the quote ~ "What can I say? I'm a bad ass!"