Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. And I thought slave-trading was illegal in Britain...
Notes: I'm not sure what to think of this one, but xakemii requested a drabble over at HPFC with this pairing and the prompt "I didn't think you would mind." It immediately sparked ideas, but I let the story simmer for a few weeks before writing it. You've partly got Bendleshnitz to blame for this fic, though. She interested me in this pairing by adding the infidelity aspect to it -- because try as I might, I find it difficult to imagine happy!Blaise/Parvati. And personally, I love Blaise as a horrible person. So here he is, being one...
Enjoy, and please let me know what you think.~
"I didn't think you would mind."
That's Blaise's catchphrase, his adage, his constant in their surging, petty love affair.
"You were wrong."
Is Parvati's constant, screaming response. But she doesn't say it because she's too busy trying to convince him that, no, she doesn't, because that's a lot easier than admitting that he has got to her. That he has won.
Every act of indifference is an imposition on his pride: an injustice. But he doesn't say it -- say something anything -- because he won't. He expects what he is -- handsome, charismatic, dangerous -- to speak for itself. He is rich and outwardly suitable and he knows it. He is Blaise.
"I didn't think you would mind."
It's said so easily blandly. The unchanging knowing expression. The invading her organised compartmentalised life. The silence at the birthday party why is he here?. The beautiful, or handsome, or familiar strangers Padma in her bed. The depth of his voice that keeps the words thorns there as he explains that those clothes had never fitted her properly, anyway.
How he just smiles as she threatens to close her life and her wards and her legs to him.
"I know you don't mind," he whispers over her skin, and she doesn't. Not really. Not anymore.
He has won.