For the Slytherin witch, it was more being made to do it that had gotten her off. Doing what she'd been told. That tracked with what he knew of the women, of course. Lavender very much enjoyed being taken, being forced to do things that would be outside of most anyone's nature... hence how he'd taken her virginity without her knowing for sure it was him, and in doing so, made her into something of a personal pleasure slave... even as much as they both enjoyed sharing her around Gryffindor. But Pansy enjoyed obeying. It might be a subtle difference to some, but even now she was thinking about what she would do if Hermione entered the room and told her to strip for her father. Not that Pansy herself had a father fetish, but... she would probably do it, he knew, simply because someone Pansy thought of as dominant over her had told her to do it.
And who, among Harry's friends, did Pansy consider dominant over her? That was a good question. Ginny, probably, and Ron certainly. Hermione, definitely, and likely Lilith too, aside from Harry himself of course. But what about Daphne? The petite Tracey? Susan, Hannah, or the Patils? He would have to find out... or at least, he would find out, eventually. There was no rush. Once again, Harry imagined himself having a life.
A life with his family, including Pansy, and he smiled once more. "Hey."
Pansy startled visibly, her face jerked toward the door specifically. She smiled when she saw him though, "Hey. You startled me, Harry."
"Sorry. I'm not intruding...?"
"No, not at all," Pansy told him, gesturing down at the book, "It's quite fascinating, but it's a little hard for me to understand the letters sometimes. The As in particular... but how did the muggles get them so neat?"
As she gestured at the book, Harry stepped into the room and realized it was not some arcane grimoire that they might study in school, but a textbook. A muggle textbook. One that, if he had to guess, focused on biology or health, given the diagram of the digestive tract on the lower half of one page. "You... you've never seen a printed book?"
"Of course I have," Pansy snorted, sitting up, "but I thought that was a magical invention. The Daily Prophet only went to print in my mother's youth."
That made Harry grin, "I'm not sure on the exact date, but you should look up the Gutenberg Bible once Hermione's encyclopedia set gets here... or she orders a new one. In fact, if you enjoy studying, you should just read... well, all of that."
"What's a Gutenberg?"
Harry shrugged, half-way into the room, "He was the guy who invented them, I think? The printing press. Uh, you don't mind if I come in?"
Pansy gave him the strangest, most confused look he'd ever seen on her face, then asked, "Why would you ask that? It's your house. You can come in if you want to."
"But it's your room," Harry protested.
"In your house," Pansy repeated, as if what she was trying to get across was obvious.
Harry's eyes screwed up in thought for a moment, but all he could say was, "It's still your room, and me coming in without permission was rude."
"I didn't think so," Pansy shrugged, glancing down at the book for a moment, then raising her attention back to him. "You own the house, you own... well, me, in a sense, and... and as the owner of the home, it's your right to go where you please. I'm here at your leisure, after all."
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his perpetually-unkempt hair, "This is one of those weird pureblood things I'll never really understand, isn't it?"
She blinked, then shrugged again, this time with just one shoulder that made the loose neck of the t-shirt slide down off her shoulder a bit. "I suppose so? I would have thought it's just common sense, but... the older I get, the more I realize I don't know very much. But yes, Harry, you can come into my room. Even if I'm changing, I..." Her voice dropped several decibels, "I like being... at your service."
"And I like having you there," Harry agreed, stepping up to her bed but not sitting on it, or the chair at the desk nearby. "But you aren't my slave, Pansy. At least, not outside the bedroom."
He tried to joke, and Pansy smiled along with him, but she shook her head and looked down, "I know, Po- Harry. I know. But I still... this is hard to say, hard to even think, but I... I look to you. For guidance, for... what Hermione calls a moral compass. You're just so... good. Upright, honest, and I... I admire that. I want to be like that. That's why I listen to what you say. I have, ever since that night on the tower."
He grimaced at the reminder of that dark night, but by now he understood that she didn't think of it the same day now. If she ever even had. Still, it was hard for him to think about how cruel he could be, how selfish. It was by luck alone that Milly and Cassius had found each other that night, or that Pansy had actually listened after what he'd done. "Okay, I... I can understand that, even if I think you're a little mad for it. I'm hardly a saint, Pansy. But, because of that, or as part of that, I believe it's better to respect someone's right to privacy. If you want to be left alone, just tell me no. I won't be offended. Probably, anyway. But if you're in here because I've upset you, or- or for whatever reason and just want some alone time, it's alright to say no. I'll do my best to respect that."
"That's fair," Pansy told him, "and that proves my point about you being a good person, Harry. I... I wouldn't much enjoy being your- your Submissive, if you were... well, anything like Draco, for example. I can't believe I used to like that prick."