Disclaimer: The ideas are mine, the characters are not.
"In my life There's been heartache and pain I don't know If I can face it again Can't stop now (...)"
I want To Know What Love Is, by Foreigner
The entrance hall. The corridors. That large coat hanger thing that took up almost half the doorway. The staircases. More corridors. Left. Right. Right again. Another set of stairs. Blaise had grown up in that house, he barely noticed the way anymore. And because his mother was away he didn't have to worry about the girl tripping over her feet by his side. He walked fast.
His room. Finally. Blaise walked in first, pulling the girl by her wrist and closing the door behind them. He stood still and stared at Megan's long hair, cascading down her back. She was blonde. Short. Not particularly attractive, but he liked the way her hair matched the colour of her Hufflepuff robes. He liked that trait in pretty much every blonde Hufflepuff girl he'd ever met.
Megan Jones, daughter of one of the smaller pure-blood houses in Britain, had never been in a room like that. And she certainly had never been alone with a boy in his room before. But this was Blaise. She used used to scribble Zabini's name in the corners of pieces of parchment, dotting the i's with little ink hearts. Now, incredible as it was, she was in Blaise's room, staring at his king size bed, a mash-up of anticipation, fear and insecurity overpowering her thoughts. Causing her heart to skip a beat.
Blaise looked her in the eye for a second when she turned to face him. He could have held her face, but that would have been too tender. Gentleness was not what he had in mind. With a quick movement, the Italian boy opened the toggle over her chest and Jones' cape dropped from her shoulders. After that, without a word, he grabbed the back of his own shirt to pull it out.
The young black man still had his pants on, but the girl was in her smalls. Her underwear was yellow. Blaise took a second to appreciate that before allowing her to push him against the wall. He smelled her hair and closed his eyes as he felt Jones' hands and lips all over his body. Her moves were clumsy and a little desperate. The girl didn't understand why he wasn't holding her in his arms and she couldn't help wondering if she was doing something wrong. Blaise didn't move a finger. He could feel the girl's heart jumping on her chest and it annoyed him to realize she didn't know what she was doing. He was not there to teach.
The youngsters were interrupted by the sound of steps on the upper floor, followed by the unmistakable noise of a bedstead banging against the wall. Not again, Blaise thought, clenching his teeth as a woman's voice moaned and screamed upstairs. Not right now. She was supposed to be out.
"What's that?"
He closed his eyes and listen closely. He'd been listening to that for several years.
"That's foreplay", he finally answered, pushing the blonde girl on the bed and unfastening his belt.
A/N:I wrote this for "The Not for The Faint of Heart Competition", (Operation Angst | Drabble) and for the "HP Potions Competition" (Beguiling Bubbles)... Sadly, two competitions whose results were never announced. I am now adding it to my entered for the Harry Potter Chapter competition (A Peck of Owls - Write about someone being left in the dark about something. Alternatively, write about a turbulent teenager)
I was going to post this as the second drabble of my Slytherin drabble collection, Fallen Angels, but I changed my mind. I thought perhaps it should stand on it's own. Unbeta'd
