Closed
Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments) Charms Assignment #5.
Task: Write about someone who is closed off emotionally.
An entry for Word Prompt Express.
Entry for March Event: Tear My Heart Out.
Prompt: 903 – Tear.
Extra Prompts: (Pairing) Daphne/Blaise.
Blaise Zabini smirked as he heard a small pop and knew that she'd arrived. His mother had left for the weekend so there would be no disturbances. This was the day he'd been waiting for; he'd finally get to fourth base with Miss Daphne Greengrass. When they first started dating seven months ago, he'd thought Daphne would be an easy lay, but she'd soon proved him wrong. This intrigued him and kept him interested for longer, as no one said no to Blaise Zabini.
Two hands covered his eyes, and she placed soft kisses on his neck.
"Hello, Blaise, did you miss me? Because I missed you, so much."
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her sappy words and turned to kiss her lightly on the lips.
He murmured huskily in her ear. "Hello, Daphne, you look gorgeous as always. I hope that dress isn't a favourite, as I plan to tear it off you as soon as I get you upstairs."
Daphne's eyes widened at his words, but she looked slightly hurt at his failure to answer her question. He did his best to distract her.
"Come on, let's go to my room. I have so many things that I want to do to you; I don't even know if this weekend will be enough time to fit them all in."
Daphne hesitated and held her ground. "Blaise, stop. I know I've never actually told you this, but I thought you'd figured it out on your own. I'm a virgin, and you're scaring me with all this non-stop sex talk. Can we take this a little slower, please?"
Blaise turned around to look at her; his steely grey eyes fixed on hers. So she finally admitted it. He'd had an inkling that she was a virgin, but had wanted to hear it from her lips without any prompting from him. He walked closer to her and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Such acts didn't come naturally to him, but he realised he had to tread carefully with her; after all, Blaise didn't want to scare her off before getting what he wanted.
"I'm sorry, Daphne. Will you come upstairs with me? I promise we can talk this through, and I won't rush you. We'll take this slowly, okay?"
She visibly relaxed at his words and nodded her head in agreement as she followed him up the stairs. Bingo. She'd be putty in his hands as nobody could resist the Zabini charm.
Her eyes went straight to his bed when they walked into his bedroom, and she released a small gulp as she sat down on it. His eyes locked on hers and he smiled at her in a way that he hoped was reassuring. This was new territory for him, as he'd never slept with a virgin before. He joined her on the bed.
"There's something I want to say before we start, Blaise."
"Go on." He had a pretty good idea where she was going with this, but he hoped he was wrong.
"I love you, Blaise Zabini, and I only want to go through with this if you feel the same way."
Drat, she'd said the words he'd dreaded her saying.
He locked eyes with her and lied smoothly. "I love you too, Daphne. I thought you already knew that."
She beamed ecstatically at him and leaned in closer so she could wrap her arms around him and kiss his lips.
"Well done, Blaise! We'll make a Quidditch player out of you yet. I think you'd make a first-rate Keeper!"
Six-year-old Blaise grinned happily at his new step-dad; he was thrilled that his mum had finally married someone who paid interest in him. John had married his mother three months ago, and straight away he'd worked on bonding with her son. Blaise was not usually one for playing Quidditch, as he'd had no one to play with, but John soon changed that. He even came home with a brand new Nimbus 1700 just for Blaise. Blaise thrived under his encouragement and turned out to be a pretty good little player.
"Look, dear, isn't he playing brilliantly?" John would shout to his wife, but Blaise's mother hardly ever paid much attention.
"That's nice, dear," she would say, with little interest.
Blaise didn't care, as long as John was around, he'd be happy.
"Out of all my mum's husband's, you're my favourite." Blaise told John as they walked back to the house one day.
John had laughed and ruffled Blaise's hair. "I'm glad to hear that because I like you a lot too. Race you back to the house!"
With that, John took off quickly, with Blaise hot on his heels.
"Goodnight, Blaise, see you in the morning."
"Goodnight, Da…. John."
John seemed thrilled by the slip-up Blaise had made.
"If you want to call me dad I don't mind. In fact, I'd be delighted."
"Really?"
"Absolutely."
"Well, goodnight, Dad."
John smiled at the young boy and ruffled his hair again. He then left the room, leaving Blaise to dream about Quidditch matches and fun adventures.
Blaise was having breakfast with his mum and John when the first argument started. It was a day that he'd always remember.
"Mum, Dad, I'd like a little brother or sister."
Their reactions were like day and night. John's eyes lit up at his words, but his mother looked like she'd never heard anything so ridiculous in her life. She looked at Blaise and gave a small laugh as if he must be joking.
"Don't be ridiculous, darling, what would you want with a younger sibling? Someone to annoy you to play with them constantly, and take half of your inheritance. Trust me, my darling Blaise, you'd hate it."
John turned to look at her with hurt evident in his eyes. "And what if I want a child, Lucia? Weren't you even going to discuss this with me?"
His mother turned to look at Blaise. "Please leave the table, Blaise."
"But Mum…"
"NOW!"
Blaise didn't dare to disobey her, so he left the room, choosing to lurk outside, so he could still hear the conversation.
"I thought I'd made it clear when we married that I wanted a child of my own, Lucia. Why, all of a sudden, are you saying you don't want a child?"
"I saw how attached you are to Blaise, John, and I thought I was off the hook, so to speak."
John looked at her in disbelief and paused for a moment before answering. "I won't deny that I love the boy, and I'm pleased that I've managed to form a good bond with him in such a short period. That doesn't change my feelings, though, as I'd still love a child of my own. You heard Blaise with your ears; he wants a sibling, and I don't see what's wrong with that. It'll give him someone to play with, and to look after when they go to Hogwarts."
Lucia gazed coolly into his eyes, and Blaise didn't like the look she gave him. Her words surprised both John and Blaise. "Okay, we can try."
John looked delighted as he leaned in to kiss her, and Blaise ran up to his bedroom joyfully. He might soon have a little brother or sister.
It happened one week later. Blaise was surprised when his mother walked into his room and sat down on his bed. He knew that something was wrong immediately, and he needed to see John.
"Where's John, Mum?"
Lucia fixed her cold grey eyes on him. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your step-father was involved in a terrible accident."
Blaise's heart sank at his mother's words, and he was filled with dread as he asked more questions. "Is he going to be okay? Can I see him?"
Lucia placed an arm around his shoulder. "He's dead, Blaise."
He shook his head in disbelief, trying to block out his mother's words. No, he finally had a father figure and a possibility of siblings; surely life wouldn't be so cruel as to take John away.
"It's not true. You're lying!"
"Blaise Zabini! Don't you ever call me a liar again! He's dead, and nothing can change that. I'm sorry."
Blaise stared into space as his mother continued to talk. He felt like he was having an out of body experience and watching someone else. He didn't know how his mother could be so calm when she'd just lost a husband. Anger abruptly took over his body, and he pushed her hand away before running down the stairs, heading out of the house and towards the shed his broomstick was kept in. He held the Nimbus close as memories of playing Quidditch with John swam around his head, making him dizzy. His knees gave way, and he dropped to the floor. Sobs forced their way out of him and wouldn't stop; he was broken.
Blaise stood next to his mother on the day of John's funeral, dressed all in black and clutching his broomstick. With a heavy heart, Blaise placed the broomstick on top of the casket. It hurt too much to look at it, and he wanted to forget the memories that haunted his dreams. He'd learned that letting people in only caused pain, and Blaise was determined never to make the same mistake again.
The weekend was coming to an end. Daphne was curled up in his bed, trying to cuddle up to him. He pushed her away and got out of bed, throwing on his clothes as her eyes lingered appreciatively on his body.
"My mother will be coming home soon, Daphne, I think it's best if you leave now," he drawled coolly.
A flash of pain crossed her face. "Oh… okay, but we'll see each other soon, right? Maybe you can come round to mine next time?"
He turned his back to her, unable to look her in the eye as he said these words. "I don't think we should see each other anymore. We've had fun, but now it's time to see other people."
Daphne gasped at his words. "I see, so you told me you loved me to get me into bed, and now you're done with me? And you don't even have the decency to look at me while you do it."
He turned to look at her then, anger flashing in his eyes. "Get out!"
Tears streamed down her face as she got out of bed. "Why are you doing this, Blaise? I love you, and I thought you loved me. Please, talk to me."
She moved closer and tried to reach out to him, but he flinched and moved away.
"You can see yourself out."
"No! Blaise, please don't do this. I love you. Didn't this weekend mean anything to you?"
He fixed his eyes on her and spoke icily, doing his best to push her far away from his heart. "It was fun, and something to tell the boys about. Don't worry; I'll tell them you're a top shag. Goodbye, Daphne."
He walked out of his bedroom without so much as a backward glance, leaving a half-naked Daphne to sob all alone on the floor.