After serious thought, however, she decided revenge on the Ministry through her own personal marionette in Cormac McLaggen would be far more satisfying in the long run than any immediate gratification that she might gain from him physically. Not that she was adverse to that, either. But first things first. There was an order, an importance to things, and after receiving his owl earlier today, she decided that it would be worth it. If she could be instrumental in the ruined careers of the people that had made her life a living hell after Voldemort had been killed, any amount of Galleons would be worth it. And the Goblins said she had them to spare. She could say all sorts of disparaging things about her father, but he evidently invested well, the sod.

So, once again, she found herself winding her way through the corridors in the Magical Law Enforcement, glaring at the people who were clearly whispering about her, and stood once again in Cormac's outer office, glaring at his mouse of a secretary.

She narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice. "Hello, Hildi. Remember me?"

The mouse nodded, and what sounded like a whimper escaped her lips.

Pansy rolled her eyes and scoffed. "What are you waiting for, girl? GO!" she commanded, shooing her away.

Pushing her chair away from her desk, Hildi tripped as she stood and caught herself in time on the coat rack by the wall. Looking one last time at Pansy as though she expected to be hexed-or worse-she knocked on Cormac's door as she was scampering in. "Mr. McLaggen," she wheezed. "Miss P-Parkinson is here again to see you."

"Send her in, Hildi," he said. "And, Hildi?" he continued, "Please try not to whimper so much in her presence. I happen to know it annoys her."

Hildi moved back to the outer office, edging to the side of the door that Pansy was going through. When Pansy was about to pass by Hildi, she stopped and peered at the other woman, putting a finger under her chin.

"You need lip gloss. And you should wear your hair down."

Hildi trembled.

Pansy exhaled heavily. "Get a backbone, girl. You'll never get anywhere in life with your knees knocking that loudly." She released her and watched the girl move quickly back to her desk. Pansy shook her head and entered Cormac's office, closing the door.

"Mr. McLaggen," she began, employing the smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm here in response to your owl. What can I do for you... today?"

Rising from his chair to greet Pansy properly, Cormac grinned widely. Don't run, my boy. You will not tackle her and shag her on your desk. Bad form. Walking over to her, he pulled her into a quick embrace and pecked her cheek. "Pansy, love. Please, sit down. I'm glad you could drop by," he said. "I've been pondering on your offer from the other day. Well, both offers, truthfully, although I'm more than up to providing a return on your investment as needed." If possible, he grinned even larger. "I would like your assistance with my plans, Pansy. And in return for your Galleons, I'll do whatever it is you require."

"My assistance," she repeated, sitting in the offered chair. "Well, my assistance will be as great or as little as you need. With my help, you could absolutely be Minister of Magic, bought and paid for, if necessary. But, darling, I would expect great things of you. And I would want some specific things as well. There are people that need their comeuppance in this agency."

"I wouldn't have you expect anything less," he said sincerely. "And I realize that as my silent partner you would have certain...rights."

A slow smile spread across Pansy's face. "Well, I must say, I do like the sound of having 'rights.' I like that quite a lot, actually." She moved her gaze from his handsome face to the surface of his desk. "That looks bit clearer than the last time I was here," she said in a sultry tone.

Rising from his chair and walking around to where Pansy was seated, he leaned back against his desk. "I've made a bit of progress, haven't I? I wanted to make certain that if I ever had the opportunity of having you anywhere near my desk again, I wouldn't have to waste time doing paperwork. Do you approve?" he said, and patted the empty space beside him while giving her a questioning look.

She bit her lip, standing. "Do I approve of you, or do I approve of the fact that you're so efficient?" she asked, moving to sit on the cleared space of desk he'd indicated. She leaned back on one hand and looked at him through her lashes. "I think your skills with paperwork are excellent. You're too handsome for your own good, and I admire the fact that you'll do anything it takes to achieve your goals. But darling, I'm still waiting to be able to pass judgement on you, if you get my meaning," she purred, her gaze drifting down and back up to his face.

His mouth was on hers in an instant, his lips caressing, his tongue actively seeking hers. Reaching out to her, he picked her up and placed her down on his lap, her legs straddling his own. His hands on her hips, he pulled her against him as he rocked instinctively towards her. "I get your meaning," he murmured. He bent his head and sucked where he could see her pulse throbbing at the side of her neck.

She moved so that her lips met his, and she kissed him deeply, running her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck and tugging gently. Spurred on by the growl that this elicited, she grinned against his mouth. "Cormac," she began while he directed all of his attention to her breasts, "Would you humor me, darling? I know something you're sure to like." She leaned back a bit and pulled out her wand, smiling softly.

A bit hesitant at the sight of her wand, yet distracted by the view before him, he murmured his approval.

"Come here." She led him by the tie to seat him at his desk. "Lean back," she coaxed, pushing him gently against the back of his desk chair. She pointed her wand at him, still smiling, and murmured, "Incarcerous." Black scarves flew from the end of Pansy's wand and tied Cormac to the chair, binding his hands, feet and body.

Bloody hell, I'm glad I'm me, was all he could think.

Having rendered him totally immobile, Pansy felt heady with power. This was, above all, what made her enthralled with the opposite sex. It was all well and good when they appreciated her body, but she really enjoyed manipulating theirs to her own liking much more. She gazed down at him, having to give him credit for not looking afraid. Bigger wizards than he had cried in this same position, and Pansy had lost interest in them immediately. His eyes were calm, expectant. She certainly didn't want to disappoint.

She bent her head down and kissed down his neck, paying special attention to all the spots that she'd noticed him react to before, tugging at his hair, and liking that reaction very much, she moved to unbutton his shirt, admiring his body as she went. He was indeed a beautiful specimen of a man, well muscled, but not overly so. She couldn't help but smile to think of all the fun they were about to have.

"Still with me? Having any fun?" she asked.

Wishing Pansy would slap him around or pull his hair some more, he could only smile and nod his agreement.

She bit her lip, thinking of what to do next. A blindfold would be nice, she thought, and grabbed the piece of cloth that was covering something leaning against the wall behind him. She busied herself with tying the cloth around his eyes and mirrored his grin. She did so love men who loved games; she was bending down to kiss him when she caught the glint off the glass of a picture behind him.

She froze. The thing that she had taken the cloth off of was a painting, A quite well done painting, she thought in a detatched manner, of a girl, naked from the waist up, in a very provocative pose.

She frowned and looked at Cormac, who was still smiling, oblivious to Pansy's distraction. "What," she asked, "is this?"

She removed the blindfold and spun his desk chair around so that he could see what she was talking about. She plucked a piece of paper that stuck out from the back side of the frame and read,

"C,

Feeling a bit tormented by this picture? That's the point, as I haven't been able to get you off my mind since you winked at me the other night, you wanker. You should have been honest with me-if all you wanted was a shag, I probably would have acquiesced. Your loss.

-Ali "

Pansy eyed Cormac closely and asked very slowly, "Who. Is. Ali?" Each word was clipped and precise, and Cormac could tell that she wasn't displeased, yet. He started backpedalling.

Sodding hell. Put the blindfold back on before you kill me. He looked at Pansy earnestly and said, "Ali is Miss Alicia Spinnet. We went out for drinks, and I think she assumed we were exclusive. She saw someone snog me at Avalon a few days later and went barmy, apparently, as she showed up this morning with...this."

Pansy went to the painting and picked it up. "Spinnet? The Quidditch player?" She scrutinized the painting, and cocked her head to one side. "My tits are better." She raised an eyebrow and put the painting back down against the wall. "So. Beautiful women and," she gestured toward the painting, "pretty girls come to your office all the time for sex? Is that what you do? File and shag? When do you find time for meals?"

Smirking slightly, Cormac answered, "Well, I have been known to skip lunch on occasion."

Pansy chuckled mirthlessly as she stuck a finger in the waistband of his trousers, pulling his rolling chair over to her, till his face was close to hers. "Do you think that 'smart arse' is really the direction that you want to go in this situation?

Bullocks. Probably not. And move those fingers down a bit, please. "Sorry, love. It just kind of slipped out." He gave her what he hoped was an endearing grin. "Please forgive me?"

"We'll see," she replied. Providing other things don't slip where they shouldn't, she thought, eyeing the painting. Pansy hopped back up on the desk and placed her feet on his thighs, leaning back on one arm. "You know, Tracey," she directed his attention toward his face momentarily, "you know Tracey Davis? I'm going to assume you haven't shagged her, by the way, although the thought probably crossed your mind. Anyway, Tracey always teases me that I didn't do well in nursery school because I don't get on well with others, and I don't like to share."

She leaned into him and put her lips close to his ear and whispered, "But she's wrong. I do get on extremely well with others. Select others," she purred, taking his earlobe between her teeth and giving it a gentle tug.

He moaned. "I do hope by select others you mean me," he said, trying to twist out of his bindings so that he could touch her-anywhere. "Pansy, please. Untie me so I can touch you." All over. With my mouth. Repeatedly.

"Hmm," she mused aloud. "I don't think so." She frowned slightly. "I can't put my finger on it, but something about this bothers me." She picked up the painting and gazed at it again. "You may need time to think and decide where your loyalties lie." She looked at him briefly, and then back to the painting. "And incidentally, I know a fantastic mediwizard if she ever wants to have those taken care of. He's brilliant," she finished, putting the potrait back on the floor.

Sod it. It is torture Cormac McLaggen day. I knew it. His gaze dropped down to her chest and he smiled. "Not everyone can hope to achieve your level of...perfection, love."

She smirked at him and reached into her bag, pulling out the biggest sack of galleons he'd seen in a long while and a rolled up piece of vellum, tied with a black ribbon. She dumped the sack unceremoniously on his desk. "This is our contract, Cormac, dear. I'd advise you to read over it carefully, as the Goblins drew it up for me yesterday, and there are horrible consequences for reneging on a magically binding contract. She leaned over him and whispered in his ear, "I'd hate for anything to happen to you, or," she looked down at his lap, "Anything that belongs to you."

Looking down at his own lap, he gulped. "I'll be sure to read it over-several dozen times."

"Then I suppose that we're done here. Pity. That painting ruined my mood." She walked back around the desk and moved to the door. "You'll come find me then? After you've read through everything?"

Damn the painting. Damn. Still sitting in his black scarf bindings, Cormac could only nod. "Oh, trust me, love. I will find you. And when I do, I will most certainly have my hands free-along with a few other things."

"Promises, promises," she purred. "You'll be free in a bit, it's not a very strong spell." She smiled at him and said. "Think hard about your loyalties, Mr. McLaggen. Think. Very. Hard."

She exited the office and leaned up against the closed door, eyes closed for a moment. Merlin! Will I never get any satisfaction from that man? she thought. And Alicia Spinnet. She may have made my list, she mused, opening her eyes. When she did, she saw that The Mouse sat at her desk, cowering, albeit silently.

Pansy marched over to her desk and rummaged in her bag for her wand, pulling out some other items as well. She placed a bottle and a tube on Hildi's desk. "All-purpose beauty potion. Use daily," she said, indicating the first bottle. She pointed at the tube. "Ten galleon a tube lipstick. Guaranteed to make your lips completely kissable. I just bought it, it's never been used. You will, though." She pointed her wand at the girl, who flinched dramatically. "Oh, please. I'm not going to curse you. You have got to grow a spine, Hildi."

Pansy cast a spell at her head, and Hildi felt her hair tumble around her shoulders in soft waves. She opened her eyes, and Pansy handed her a mirror.

"Thank you," Hildi breathed. "It even smells nice," she whispered, bringing a lock up to her face to inspect.

"Yes, well, don't let it go to waste," Pansy remarked. "Oh, and Hildi?"

"Yes, Miss Parkinson?"

"Mr. McLaggen said to tell you that he doesn't want to be disturbed for the next half hour or so."

"Yes, Miss Parkinson."

Hildi watched in awe as Pansy moved gracefully out of the office and disappeared down the corridor.

{Summary: Ding! Ding! Ding! Round four! Cormac is tied up and Pansy (ahem) takes advantage of him. And fixes his secretary a bit.}