Seduced by "Hermione"
Previously: "This isn't what it looks like. I can explain," Zabini tried to smile, cock to cock with Ronald Weasley.
An ear-splitting scream could be heard even to the furthest corners of Hogwarts. Ron Weasley's brain had finally enough air to function. In the Prefects' bathroom one Gryffindor was about to have an early heart attack.
"W-What the hell?" Ron shouted, face reddening fast. "Z-Zabini! What did you do to Hermione?! I'm going to kill you!" Horrified, he scrambled to his feet and backed away from the dark-skinned Slytherin.
"Nothing, you dimwit!" Blaise shouted and grabbed his... skirt.
"What do you mean 'nothing'?" Ron screeched. "I was here with Hermione and we were ... mmh ... ah ... we were ... well, you know, and then she suddenly–" He waved his hand around the room expecting Hermione to pounce from somewhere any minute.
"No, Weasley," the boy with the skirt mumbled. "You and that Granger girl weren't going to do anything. You and me, well, we were almost there! Damn that potion. I knew I shouldn't have trusted Snape, the sneaky bastard!" He collected his bra.
"You mean that we– that I just– Nooooooo!" Ron cried loudly, face white, mouth hanging open, left eye twitching.
"Yes, Weasley, we had sex." Blaise turned to hide his smile.
"Bu-But I'm not gay!" Ron shouted. "You got us wrong! Charlie and, well, Bill occasionally are gay, not me!" He tried to wriggle his trousers up to cover his still hard cock, damn teenage hormones.
"If I had wanted one of your brothers, I would have had him," the Slytherin said, moving towards Ron who still looked like he had seen his aunt Gladys naked.
Ron decided it was a good time to gape.
"Now will you give me a goodnight kiss before we part our ways?" 'Hermione' asked, stepping into Ron's personal space.
They were suddenly too close, and Ron jerked his lips away from Blaise's reach.
"NO!" he shouted. He ran to the door, opening it quickly then scrambling out to the cold corridor.
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It was almost one thirty in the morning when Ron finally entered the common room. He was still flushed from running and couldn't get the image of Blaise Zabini naked out of his head. He definitely needed some sleep and maybe an Obliviate or two.
"Ron?" a sleepy voice called from the common room's couch. Hermione.
"Hey, what are you still doing up?" he asked, sitting next to his girlfriend.
"I was waiting for you," she replied, moving closer to him, eyes sleepy. "Where did you go?"
"Nowhere important," he lied. "Just needed some time to myself, that's all." He kissed her forehead.
"Oh, okay. I think I should go to bed now. I need to be alert for Snape's class in the morning. We are brewing a blood-cleansing potion." She yawned, kissing his lips, which were still a bit tender.
I can't tell her, Ron thought sadly, squeezing his eyes close to prevent any tears from escaping. He couldn't tell her: she would hate him for sleeping with someone else; she would hate him for not recognising that it wasn't her; she would hate him for his being affected this much by Blaise Zabini. She would hate him.
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How could it be that for sixteen and some years the thought hadn't even crossed his mind? How could it be that now, at the age of seventeen, Ron couldn't think about anything else than naked boys? Boy.
It had been two weeks since The Incident, as Ron dubbed it. Two weeks of steamy dreams, sweaty sheets and uncontrolled tents in his trousers. It was a nightmare.
He wasn't a queer, he wasn't. He loved Hermione and they were going to get married and have a dozen kids and she was going to be the youngest Minister of Magic and he was going to have an affair with Blai–.
"What?" he muttered quietly. "No no no! Stop it!" He shoved more food into his mouth. He was definitely not thinking about him again! If this sick obsession didn't stop soon, he would have to go and find help. Damned!
"Did you hear me, Ron?" his sister asked, elbowing him.
"What?" he snapped, mouth full of chicken.
"Don't snap at me!" Ginny replied angrily. "I was just asking if Mum had already written to you about her plan for a summer wedding?" She turned back to her dinner.
"Summer what?" he squeaked, forking his left cheek.
"Don't be an idiot, Ron!" she snapped. "Your and Hermione's wedding of course." She had spoken into his ear so that Hermione, who was sitting a few seats to the left, wouldn't hear her.
Now there was going to be a wedding? On top of everything else? Great, just great. His cock wasn't even sure where it was pointing anymore, and now this.
He just wanted to bang his head against the hard table. At least, Harry had it good; he knew he was a queer for sure. He wasn't like himself, in between, not knowing were to go next just because of one naked boy. You couldn't turn gay because of one naked boy, right?
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"You've been avoiding me!" Blaise snarled before pushing Ron, who was slightly taller than him, against the nearest wall.
"Of course I have!" Ron exclaimed. "Why wouldn't I? I'd rather play with a sick Flobberworm than have anything to do with filthy Slytherins!" He tried to sidestep Blaise, who wasn't letting go of him.
"Shut up! I didn't come here to fight, so stuff it." Blaise pouted, then suddenly glued himself to Ron's broad chest.
"Wha-at are you doing?" Ron panicked. "Stop it!" He grabbed Blaise's shoulders to push the boy off him, but the bugger already had a firm grip.
"I have been thinking about you," Blaise moaned. "I dream about you every night. I dream about your firm butt and your strong hands… And damn but I have to kiss those lips now." He smacked his lips onto Ron's frozen ones.
Without noticing, Ron was kissing him back… until a hand strayed to his trousers.
"We can't ... I can't ... no stop it ... gnah," Ron whimpered, ripping his wet lips away from Blaise's hungry ones.
"We can! And we will!" Blaise shouted to the fleeing back. "Stubborn Gryffindor!"
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It was now a week since The Second Incident, as Ron had taken to call it.
On Monday, Blaise had grabbed his crotch and nobody had noticed. Ron had wanked that night.
On Tuesday, Blaise had managed to kiss him just before lunch. There had been no witnesses. Ron had thought about Blaise that night while kissing Hermione.
On Wednesday, Ron had stayed near Harry the whole day. Blaise had looked like he didn't like it.
Thursday came, and while eating his breakfast, Ron had got a love letter.
You and your amazing arse will be mine.
Sooner than later, I will make you scream my name.
You are beautiful.
It wasn't a real love letter, Ron had decided. It was more of a threat letter. But Ron had still hidden it in his trunk and read it again that night.
On Friday, Blaise had asked him if his girlfriend was jealous about the threat letter. When Ron had said that no, Hermione wasn't, that she just thought it was a joke, Blaise had smiled smugly and kissed him on the cheek.
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"Oh don't tell me, Hermione, that you aren't one bit jealous about that love letter," Ginny smirked, poking her friend.
"Honestly, Ginny, I'm not." Hermione sighed and returned to her book.
"Why not?" Ginny asked. "Ron's not Bill but he's still good looking, and to me that love letter means rivalry."
"Oh stop it, Ginny," Hermione snapped. "Who would ever want to fight over Ron?" She rolled her eyes, not noticing the boy in question standing in the shadows.
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"You just can't go from straight to gay," Ron muttered, once again in Blaise's presence.
"No one said you had to," Blaise replied quietly. "Don't think of this as a commitment to a sexual preference. Let's just enjoy and explore." He turned Ron's expressionless face to him.
"She said that no one would want to fight for me," Ron whispered, lowering his eyes so Blaise couldn't see the tears.
"I would," the latter murmured, kissing Ron's chin and forehead."I would have fought for you a long time ago if there hadn't been any Dark Lords, Death Eaters or anti-Gryffindor Slytherins. I have wanted you for so long, Ron. You are brave, kind, hot, pure-blood and trustworthy. I'm just asking you to give me a chance. Spend some time with me, and maybe there could be something more." He was kissing Ron's face, now.
Ron blushed to his ears and tried to hide his face. "How Slytheringly romantic!" he teased. "Am I the only confused pure-blood in this school that you have to be content with me?" Then, for the first time, he kissed him first.
"Hmm, no you are not. Longbottom is having an affair with Snape." Blaise smirked at the look on Ron's face.
"Liar!" Ron accused, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Want me to prove it?" the Slytherin asked, dragging Ron towards the dungeons.
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"Oh, that is just so WRONG!" Ron exclaimed, offended. "My eyes! We have to save poor Neville! He must be under some kind of a spell!" He tried to return to the classroom, and Blaise couldn't help but laugh at him. Ron had been utterly horrified when he had shown him what went on behind closed doors, and how bendy the Potions master actually was.
"Don't be silly! You don't want to go in there and interrupt that!"
"I'm going to have nightmares about that for the rest of my life! How can he be with him when he treats him so poorly in class?" Ron just couldn't believe this.
"I think it's foreplay."
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Ron kept 'seeing' Blaise regularly during the next few months. They mostly spent time together when Hermione closed herself off into the library or when Harry was somewhere with his boyfriend.
After the first sneak peek into Neville's love life (which Ron called 'slave life') they avoided Snape's classroom like the plague, giggling madly when either of the secret lovers would pass them in the corridor.
Life was good.
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"Ron, are you coming? Hogsmeade awaits us, and I still have to come back and finish my History of Magic essay." Hermione was speaking through the door, urging the still sleeping Ron ... and Blaise.
"Huh, whaat?" he mumbled, and lifted the bedcover to hear better.
"I don't want to come inside," Ron's girlfriend snapped, "some of you might still be naked. So just answer me. Are you coming, already? I can't hear the shower."
"Uh, no, Hermione, you go without me," he answered, looking down at the still sleeping boy at his side.
"Fine. I will go with Ginny."
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"I can't do this anymore, Blaise," Ron said, not looking at the boy as they were walking towards their sitting place near the lake.
"Do what?" Blaise asked quietly, already knowing what his companion meant.
"This isn't fair to Hermione," Ron replied. "She almost caught us this morning. I don't want to hurt her." He sat under their tree, legs folded, looking at the still lake.
Blaise sat next to him and remained silent for a moment. "Thank you for giving a Slytherin a chance," he said finally. "Thank you for giving me a chance." He kissed Ron for one last time, on the cheek.
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"Ron, just tell me what it is," Hermione grumbled. "This has been going on for a month!" Again, she tried to concentrate on her school book.
"It's just ... It just that we–" Ron stammered, looking at his irritated girlfriend.
"You have been moping for a long time, and I know I haven't done anything, so just say what's wrong. I really don't have the time, Ron. The NEWTs are so close and I want to do good."
For a while, Ron just sat there and looked at the girl sitting in front of him. He had 'left' Blaise so that he wouldn't hurt her. So that they could be happy together, and have the damn wedding and the dozen freaking kids! He had said that he couldn't hurt her, that he couldn't hurt the girl who seemed not to even care about him anymore. School work always came first.
"There is someone else," he said boldly, preparing himself for the explosion he knew was about to come.
"Someone else? What do you mean? You don't ... you can't! Who?" Hermione looked hurt, and Ron could see the tears already forming in her eyes. She raised her voice. "It's Lavender, isn't it? I have seen the way she looks at you!" She was looming over Ron, now, fists ready to hit something.
"No, it's not her. It's... it's…" How do you tell your girlfriend that you might be slightly gay?
"Who is she? I deserve to know! We were supposed to get married, Ron! Married! Molly has everything planed out and–" She started to cry, hiding her face in her hands.
A Ravenclaw suddenly appeared behind the two Gryffindors. "Could you keep it a bit more quiet? Some of us are trying to study here."
"What is it, Terry? Come on, I don't want to have our date here in the–" Blaise's voice had come from behind a bookshelf, and he stopped in the middle of his sentence when he found out who Terry was talking to.
"A date?" Ron asked, wanting suddenly to rip Terry into pieces.
"Yes, a date, Weasley," Terry replied, rolling his eyes. "You must have had some of those with Hermione here."
"Could you two please leave us alone?" Hermione asked the two boys standing next to the bookshelf, her voice tense. "We have something to discuss."
"Oh, yes sure, just keep it quiet," Terry said before taking Blaise's hand in his and dragging him towards the exit.
"Now, Ron, who is she?" Hermione asked, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her robe.
"No one," Ron answered, still staring at the library doors left open by Terry and Blaise.
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"Please, Ron, I love you," Hermione whispered. She looked at her now ex-boyfriend with sad eyes.
"Are you sure?" Ron asked. "Do you really love me? Love me so much that once in a while you could leave your books on the shelves and spend some time with me? This hasn't been working for a long time, Hermione." He prepared to go to bed; it had been a long day.
"I'm so sorry," she sobbed, and Ron couldn't help but hug her firmly. He did love her but he just wasn't in love with her anymore.
"Me too," he sighed.
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"Ron!" someone yelled from the school's front doors.
Ron turned to see who was calling him and, to his dismay, saw Terry Boot running towards him.
"Where are you going?" the Ravenclaw asked once his breath had evened. "Can I join you?"
"Just walking," Ron muttered. He had a huge urge to strangle Terry or maybe even kick him in the balls.
"Well, I actually wanted to talk to you about something, if you care to listen?"
"Yeah?"
"He misses you."
"W-Who?" Ron asked nervously, twitching the hem of his sleeve. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't play stupid now, Weasley," Terry snapped. "Blaise of course." He crossed his arms, looking at Ron as though he was the ugliest Hippogriff he had ever seen.
"Should you be saying things like that about your boyfriend?" Ron pouted, still walking towards the lake, towards his and Blaise's–
" He's not my boyfriend anymore," Terry said bitterly. "We broke up when the news about you and Granger emerged."
"Why?" Ron asked, confused.
Terry rolled his blue eyes. "God save us all! Just go to him and tell him how you feel. He deserves to know." He lowered his voice. " He's hurting,"
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Ron stepped in the Great Hall and scouted for one familiar head among hundreds. He finally located Blaise's dark hair and, with all his Gryffindor courage, marched towards the Slytherins' table.
"Blaise, could I have a word please?" he asked nervously, eyeing the rest of the hostile house staring at him.
"Yeah, sure," Blaise replied. But before he could properly get up from the table and follow Ron, he was grabbed from behind.
"What the hell, Zabini?" Malfoy snarled, trying to yank Blaise back to his seat.
"Hands off, Malfoy," Ron snapped, staring at the Slytherin Head Boy with hatred.
The Great Hall was quiet now, and all eyes were on the trio standing at the end of the Slytherin table.
"Or what, Weasel? You will smack me with your poor hands that have never even touched real gold?" Malfoy smirked, laughing with his other house mates.
"No, mate," Ron snarled. "What I'm going to do is rip your balls off and feed them to Parkinson over there in hope she will get pregnant at least once because we all know how low on sperm count Malfoys are." He stepped in front of Blaise to protect him from the snakes.
"How DARE you! You over-breed weasel! I'll–" was the end of the Malfoy heir's speech: Neville had suddenly appeared from nowhere and struck Malfoy's nose, which was now dripping blood.
"When the hell did you grow a backbone?" Malfoy whined, nursing his broken nose.
"When Severus told me to get one," Neville rejoined then immediately slapped a hand over his mouth, looking horrified.
At the teachers' table, Snape groaned.
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"Aww, that looks awfully cute, don't you think?" Harry asked his boyfriend when Ron finally kissed Blaise in front of the whole school.
Grunt.
"Do you remember the first time you kissed me, silly big bear?" Harry cooed, making a kissy face.
Grunt.
"I love you too," Harry said, smiling, and kissed Gregory on the lips.
End