Written for THC round 3
Ravenclaw House
6th year
Short: [Pairing] Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini
Word count will be at end.
AN: So this is a little bit of an AU, so yeah.
He isn't exactly sure when he began to like Potter. Maybe it was during fourth year, when Potter defeated the Hungarian Horntail. Or when Potter rescued Delacour's and Cedric's hostages from the water, as well as his own. Or maybe it was long before that.
He was staring at his food, pushing a potato around with his fork, when Draco began to talk.
"Did you hear, Blaise? We're supposed to get a new DADA teacher again this year." Draco took a bite of his food, then wiped the area around his mouth with a napkin. "Father said that this year it is going to be one who will actually teach us something for once."
"Lupin taught us well in third year," Blaise muttered.
Draco shot him a glare. "Yes, but he was a werewolf."
"And?"
"He's dangerous, Blaise," Draco said exasperated. "He could've hurt us. Especially near the full moon."
"I know that. But he wasn't near us on the full moon, now was he?"
Draco sniffed. "Whatever, Blaise."
Blaise smirked, then looked towards the doors of the Great Hall as Potter and his two friends entered. The three were walking with Potter in the middle, Weasley on one side and Granger on the other. They were all talking to each other as they made their way to the table of people wearing maroon and gold, laughing as someone sitting at the table (was that another Weasley?) chatted away to them. They sat down, and Blaise watched as the other Gryffindors just seemed to flock together around the three.
"Are you staring at Potter again?" Pansy asked from beside him, smirking when he glared at her.
"No," he muttered.
"Uh huh, sure," she said. "Don't lie to me, Blaise. I saw you watching Potter and his friends. You like him, don't you? Potter?"
Blaise's eyes snapped to hers. "Pansy," he hissed, "please, not here."
"Blaise likes Potter?" He heard Draco ask. "Blaise, is this true?"
He groaned internally when Draco turned to him, other Slytherins leaning in to listen to their conversation as well. "No," he began, "I do not." He threw another glare at Pansy. "Pansy just thinks I do when I absolutely do not. Now, if you'll excuse me," Blaise pushed his plate away and stood up, grabbing his bag, "I have to get to Charms."
He stalked away, feeling the burning gazes of all the Slytherins in his year follow him out.
Blaise never noticed emerald eyes looking after him.
It was several weeks later, when rumors of a defense group having been formed had spread through the school, that Blaise ran into Potter. Literally.
Don't get him wrong, usually Blaise would've loved to have ran into Potter, just to look into those emerald eyes and to see his usually untamable hair as it always was and for Blaise to just lean forward and press their lips together and for Potter to moan—
But now wasn't the time.
Professor Umbridge had asked members of the Inquisitorial Squad to patrol the corridors at night, seeing to it that students stayed in their dormitories after curfew. She had expressed, multiple times, that if a student were to be caught, they would be given detention with her.
Although Blaise would have wholeheartedly agreed with her, he had heard rumors of what went on during her detentions. That she had them write lines, but not with ink.
The Slytherins didn't care at all about what was going on within the other houses; to them all it was was house unity. They stood up only for themselves and for no one else, unless you were a loved one, family member, or a close friend. Other than that, the Slytherins couldn't give a damn.
Blaise, though a Slytherin, wasn't a typical Slytherin. He had friends from both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw (not that the other Slytherins knew) and was even open to befriending someone from Gryffindor. He, whilst being cunning, used his sly nature not for blackmail, but for helping others. He made deals with other students, to help them with their work and in turn, they had to help him with what he ever needed whenever he needed it.
But back to having ran into Potter.
Blaise was patrolling the corridor, about to turn onto turn onto another after having climbed the stairs, when a body slammed into him. He stumbled back, looking up with a glare to whoever ran into him. The glare faded when he saw that it was Potter.
Potter was on the ground rubbing his chest, green eyes glaring up at Blaise, full of intense hate. His hair was as mussed up as it always was, looking like he had never seen a comb in his life. He was wearing his house robe over his pajamas, and his wand was in his hand. His glasses were lopsided on his face until Blaise reached out to fix them.
Potter stared at him. "Aren't you going to give me detention?" he finally asked.
"I should."
Potter's brows furrowed. "Wait, does that mean you won't?"
Blaise rolled his eyes fondly. "Obviously, Potter."
Potter stared at him, shock spreading across his face. "Why?" Potter demanded, standing up. "You're part of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad. Aren't you supposed to listen to what she says?"
"What she doesn't know won't hurt her."
There was a snort. "Yeah, but it could hurt somebody else."
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing."
Potter tucked his wand away and made to go past him when they heard Draco's voice exclaim, "Blaise! Is that Potter I see?"
Blaise's eye twitched as Draco appeared around the corner, making his way towards them. He noticed that Potter's eye twitched as well, whether in irritation or amusement, he couldn't tell.
"Well well, Potty," Draco said when he came to a stop before them. "A pleasure to see you out and about, isn't it, Blaise?" A smug smirk was planted on his face.
"Yes, a pleasure," Blaise drawled, rolling his eyes.
"What're you doing outside of your dormitories?" Draco questioned, his shit-eating grin growing even wider when Potter didn't answer. "No answer? Well then, detention with Professor Umbridge, tomorrow night. You'll get the rest of the details from her tomorrow." Draco started to walk off, then turned his head to look at them, and added, "See you later, Scar-head."
Then Draco vanished around the corner.
"Bugger," Potter muttered.
Blaise didn't answer, conflicted. He really wanted to kiss Potter right now, but he also didn't want to scare him away in case he didn't feel the same. Plus, kissing someone right after they'd been given a detention wasn't exactly romantic.
Potter was still talking when Blaise shook himself from his thoughts. ". . . 'Mione'll kill me, that's for sure. As for Ron, he'd probably say something along the lines of, 'Really, mate? Bloody he—'"
Green eyes looked into his, shocked, as Blaise kissed him soundly on the lips.
He pulled back after a few seconds, watching Potter, who brought a hand to his lips and touched them with his fingertips. "What the hell?" Potter whispered.
"I like you, Potter. A lot." Blaise leaned forward and pressed a kiss upon his scar. "And not for just for your fame, either. I'll explain more tomorrow, during lunch in the library. Meet me there?"
Potter stared at him, eyes searching into his before he nodded.
Blaise grinned. "I'll see you tomorrow. Get back to your dorm, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned and made his way down the hall.
Potter stood there, fingertips still touching his lips.
The next day, Blaise sat in the library before lunch, waiting for Potter. Madam Pince was eying him warily, and he rolled his eyes each time she looked over at him.
It was several minutes later when Potter finally, arrived, exasperated. "Sorry," Potter muttered to him when he stood in front of him. "'Mione and Ron wouldn't let me go, and then I saw Luna, who just had to tell me something, and then Neville, who–"
Potter looked down at Blaise's finger resting on his lips before looking back to him. "Be quiet, okay?" Blaise asked. "Just let me . . . talk. Please?"
Potter nodded hesitantly.
And Blaise began to talk.
"Harry, you need to listen to me, I have to tell you something."
Potter—Harry—looked over at him from his cauldron, puzzled. "What is it?" he whispered as Snape stalked by.
Blaise gulped. "I am being ordered to become a Death Eater," he murmured back. "I have no choice; the Dark Lord has declared that all children of Death Eaters have to join him soon. I just wanted you to know, before the . . . the ceremony happens."
"Ceremony?"
"To get the Dark Mark."
Harry nodded in understanding. "Will we still be able to be together?"
"I . . . don't think we will."
"You don't know?"
"Harry, he could find out and kill you and I both. I don't want that. I want you to beat that bastard and save the wizarding world. I want you to live a wonderful life. I want you to be able to have kids. I want you to have everything."
Harry stared at him, eyes misty. "Blaise. . . ."
"Just know that I love you, okay?"
"Okay, Blaise."
It's two years later, when Harry defeats the Dark Lord, that Blaise runs to him, grabbing him in his arms and holding him.
"I thought you were dead," he whispered.
"So did I," Harry muttered into his chest.
"Don't ever do that again, please."
Harry laughed. "I'll try. For you, Blaise."
Blaise smiled. "Good."
Then, he leaned down and captured Harry's in a passionate kiss.
[word count: 1598]