A/N: Happy Birthday Iluvenis! I'm sure you've suspected that I was working on this for you, yet, here it still is! Thank you for being such a wonderful friend and I hope you enjoy this gift fic. If not, SMFOL!
Disclaimer: The thoughts and opinions expressed in this story (through Chuck and Blair) do not necessarily reflect the views of this author.
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September 2003
Chuck Bass remembered the day he met Blair Waldorf like it was yesterday. It was a too warm Tuesday afternoon in late September. It was his first day of 7th grade and he was two weeks late, Bart had taken him to Japan for an extended business trip.
At first, Chuck had been excited, not only was he going to get to spend time with his father, but he would also get to skip out on school. He would miss the last two days of 6th grade as well as a couple of weeks at the beginning of the next year. If that wasn't enough, he'd be able to brag that he'd been to five of the seven continents—only Antarctica and South America would be left. But little had he known that being in the same country as his father, didn't mean he was going to spend any time with him. He had been stuck, virtually alone, in a hotel room in Tokyo for almost four months. Except for the occasional tour that was thoughtfully arranged by one of the investors, and the superior quality of video games, he had been bored out of his mind.
This trip abroad meant Chuck had also missed out on orientation for school—St. Jude's and Constance Billard held an introductory mixer for the students who would start in the Fall. Due to the time difference, he had only managed to get a hold of Nate on the phone a handful of times. And when he did, there were only three things Nate wanted to talk about—Blair, Serena and Harry Potter. Chuck was much more interested in the first two and completely uninterested in the last. He had been given vague descriptions of the two girls, and somehow 'hot blonde with the cutest laugh' and 'prettiest girl with the dark curls and headband' didn't quite cut it. He had been jealous that while he was stuck bored by himself, his best friend got to gallivant with not just one, but two girls.
But as the summer progressed, Nate had gotten more fixated on talking about Harry Potter. It was 'Blair said she would rather die than get sorted into Hufflepuff' (what kind of ridiculous name was Hufflepuff anyway?) or 'Blair said that she'd give Hermione Granger a run for her money and be Queen of Hogwarts at the same time' and on and on and on. Chuck hadn't wanted to acknowledge it, but was worried about the influence Blair seemed to have on his friend, and he hadn't even met her yet. Nate was talking about books for fuck's sake! How could Nate not see what was wrong with this picture?
"Dude, you have to read Harry Potter, it's seriously awesome," Nate said enthusiastically into the phone.
"Are you kidding me? You want me to read about hocus pocus magic and witches? How much weed have you been smoking?" Chuck scoffed back. "Didn't we decide not to read them last year? And we made the pact not to watch the movies either, remember?"
"Yeah, about that…" Nate said sheepishly.
"Tell me you didn't," he groaned.
"Well… I was hanging out with Blair and Serena and they found out I hadn't watched the movies…so they kind of forced me to—."
"Who spayed you, man? They forced you to watch? I'm gone a couple of months and you're already jumping through hoops because they made you? Nathaniel, I'm concerned."
"You don't know what Blair is like," his friend insisted. "She's awesome! Trust me, if you were here, you'd be reading these books, too."
"If I were there, I'd probably stop you from losing your man card. And I'd put her in her place," he scoffed.
"Blair doesn't take 'no' for answer." Chuck could hear the admiration in Nate's voice and he found it alarming. "In fact, she might just be your match."
"Please, she's a girl. I doubt it."
"Whatever. I can't wait for you to meet her and Serena when you get back," Nate said. "So tell me, is Japan still cool? Are you eating sushi for breakfast yet?"
"No, I don't eat sushi for breakfast," he said as he rolled his eyes. Then he feigned excitement so Nate wouldn't realize how lonely he was. "Tokyo's crazy. It's a whole different beast from New York. They have the weirdest vending machines. Good news is we're going to Kyoto for a couple of days tomorrow. Home of the geishas."
"There's my boy," Nate laughed. "So let me guess, you're going to try to find notch number two for your illustrious belt?"
"Try?" He boasted. "How many other sixth graders do you know who've had sex?"
"Ohhh, speaking of…" his friend said in a hushed voice. "Serena is friends with Georgie."
"That bitch is a psycho."
"Shoulda picked someone else to lose your virginity to," Nate laughed.
"One time, we fucked one time, how does that mean we're in a relationship?" Chuck jeered. "And seriously, she gave it up, what? Two hours after I met her? Did she really need to ruin my scarf in retaliation?"
Nate let out a sigh, and Chuck could practically hear him rolling his eyes. He didn't care if his friend was tired of hearing it, Chuck was still pissed that he had also lost a scarf in the process of entering manhood.
"She can't be trusted."
"Yeah, Blair has nothing good to say about her," Nate confided authoritatively. "Georgina is bad news. She doesn't even know why Serena bothers to be friends with her."
He scowled at the phone. He was already growing tired of Blair—what a know-it-all.
The conversation had been enough to plant the seeds in his mind that Blair Waldorf was trouble—and lots of it. Even as he spent the next few days doing the tourist thing his father and wasn't stuck in a hotel room, he couldn't get the idea out of his head that Blair was brainwashing Nate.
Determined that he would not be left in the dark or possibly lose his best friend, he begrudgingly took himself to a bookstore when they returned to Tokyo. He purchased all five of the Harry Potter books as well as both of the movies. When he got back to the hotel room he secretly thought of as a prison, he plopped down on the bed and laid out his purchases. He glared as he noticed how the books grew progressively thicker and thicker. Again, he debated if entering the world of Harry Potter was worth it or if he was being unnecessarily paranoid. On a whim, he picked up the phone to call Nate.
"Hello?"
"Nathaniel," he drawled.
"Man, is that you? What time is it over there?"
"Ten."
"In the morning or at night?"
As he was about to answer, he heard the mouthpiece get muffled but could hear a girl in the background.
—Who is it, Natie? — A girl asked.
—Don't be rude! —Said another girl.
—It's Chuck. —Nate said.
—Well tell him you'll have to call him back, the movie is about to start. —The first girl said.
—Blair! We can wait until he's done. —The second girl said.
—No, we can't. Natie, tell him you'll have to talk to him later. —Blair insisted.
"Uhm, Chuck?" Nate said sheepishly. "Sorry, but, we're about to watch a movie. Can I call you later?"
Chuck was fuming, seriously, what part of he was calling from a foreign country did this girl not understand? It didn't matter that she managed to sound sweet but commanding—she needed to get the message that he was the best friend, and she was just some new floozy.
"We?" He asked in a clipped voice.
"Blair, Serena and I. Apparently it's a tragedy that I've never heard of 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' and 'Holiday'. I think Blair has a serious fixation with these two actress sisters, the Hepburns. Do you know anything about any of this?"
—For the last time, Audrey and Katharine are not sisters, nor are the related. They just happen to have the same surname. Now are you hanging up, or do I have to do it for you? —Blair huffed.
"Chuck, I'll call you when I'm leaving Blair's, ok?"
And before he could say anything, all he heard was the sound of dead air. Was he living in some alternate reality, here? Since when did Nate hang up on him to go watch archaic movies with girls? Chuck hadn't even been given time to snap a retort about how he didn't see the point of watching a movie about a gold digger falling in love with a gigolo. Just because Nate wasn't cultured, didn't mean Chuck couldn't tell the difference between the vibrant redhead and the petite brunette—after the number of au pairs he had had, it should come as no surprise how much insight he had on the female psyche.
He glared at his phone for another full minute, before he let out a sigh and snatched up Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. As he settled against the headboard on the bed and opened the book, he had one fleeting thought—when going into war, one must always prepare for battle. He had the sneaking suspicion that he was going to need all the help he could get.
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It had taken him six weeks to actually settle down and finish The Philosopher's Stone and The Chamber of Secrets. He had nearly caved several times and watched the movies instead, but somehow he just knew if Blair found out that he hadn't read the books first, she would look down her nose at him. But he finally hit a stride with The Prisoner of Azkaban. Maybe it was because he was halfway through the pile of five books, or maybe it was because he was fond of Sirius Black. Having been neglected by his father and without a companion in sight, there was something comforting about the way Sirius seemed to care so much about a boy he had never met. Plus, without the addition of Sirius, there was no way he would have bought the whole time travel element of the story. It seemed like such a cop-out, but that was a train of thought best saved for another time.
By the time he was midway through The Goblet of Fire, as much as he hated to admit it, he was all in. He had barely finished book four, when Bart had announced that as a surprise, they were going to Hong Kong and Shanghai for a week before heading home. Chuck was about to object, and ask that the Bass jet pick him up on the way back, when Bart assured him there was only one three hour meeting in Hong Kong. The prospect of having a real vacation with his father made him forget about Harry Potter for the next few days.
When he got back to New York, it felt like a blur and jet lag hit him hard. As much as he wanted to get to book five, he got caught up in the joys of being back home. Getting stoned with Nate within twenty-four hours was his first priority, and he had secretly crowed when Nate ignored multiple calls from both Blair and Serena. But by the time Monday had rolled around, and he was due for his first day at St. Jude's, things didn't quite go as planned.
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Chuck followed Nate out into the quad for lunch.
His friend stopped and looked at him seriously. "Will you please be nice to Blair and Serena?"
"Don't worry, Nathaniel, I'll be myself."
Nate groaned. "Can you be less you? For some reason Blair thinks you already don't like her."
Smart girl. Chuck shrugged. "I haven't even met her."
Nate smiled in relief. "That's what I told her. Seriously, dude, be nice, ok? I like her."
"Like as in like like?"
"Yeah. I'm going to ask her out on a date," Nate admitted.
Chuck's mouth dropped in shock while his friend blushed.
"I've been wanting to for awhile, but I couldn't—not without you meeting her first. You're my best friend, and if you two don't get along…"
"What's not to like about me?" He asked.
"You can be a little…well, you're a bit—."
"Natie!" Two girly voices called out from behind Chuck.
His friend's face lit up into a smile as he waved. He paused to lean over and whispered, "Be nice."
Chuck rolled his eyes and turned around. What he saw was not what he had expected. He had expected them both to be conventionally pretty, common, even—but not that. His eyes widened as he checked out the blonde, she looked way older than twelve. But when he turned to look at the petite brunette, his heart stopped completely.
"You must be Chuck," she said sweetly, as she stretched out a hand to introduce herself. "I'm Blair Waldorf."
He wondered if his hands were sweaty, but he didn't know quite how to respond and just nodded curtly.
"I'm Serena!" The blonde said with a warm smile. She, however, chose not to offer her last name or a hand and just waved.
When he still hadn't said a word, Nate shot him a pointed look.
As the girls exchanged glances, Blair once again took the lead. "I had Dorota make us lunch. She even packed a couple extra of the gingerbread cookies you liked so much, Natie."
The four of them made their way to a table in the corner. Chuck wanted the seat in the power position—where his back would face the wall and he would have a clear view of the entire courtyard. Just as he made his move to sit down, Blair cut directly in front of him.
"Blair gets antsy when her back isn't to the wall," Serena rushed to explain, when a look of annoyance crossed his face.
"I forgot, Chuck's like that, too," Nate said. "But you don't mind, right, Chuck, if Blair sits there? It's kinda her seat."
There was a polite yet hopeful smile on Blair's face, but he didn't buy it for a single moment. As much as he wanted to say no, he knew no good would come from it. Chuck gestured for her to take the preferred seat and she carefully placed her school bag on the table.
She dispensed sandwiches to each of them, while Serena pulled out sparkling water from her bag. For a couple of minutes, they ate in silence, but he didn't miss the looks of reassurance Nate shot Blair, nor how Serena's eyes watched the pair as well.
"So, Nate says you were in Japan for the past few months," Blair tried to spark the conversation. "Did you travel all over? What was your favorite place?"
"We were in Tokyo most of the time, but Kyoto was probably my favorite place," he admitted.
"Why, Kyoto?" Serena asked curiously.
Chuck intentionally took a bite from the sandwich to buy some time. His mind raced as he tried to come up with a reason other than the truth—both times they had visited Kyoto, was the most time he got to spend with his father while they were in Japan.
"Probably because of the geishas," Nate offered unhelpfully.
"Ooooh, geishas!" Serena clapped her hands together. "They wear such pretty dresses, although I don't know how they walk in those shoes."
"S, do you think we should get kimonos for Halloween?" Blair suggested with a smile.
Nate cleared his throat uncomfortably as he frowned. "Uhm, that's not exactly why Chuck likes geishas…uhm, it's probably because their services can be purchased."
Serena made a face. "Ew. Gross! You're such a perv!"
Blair turned to Nate with a look of disgust. "This is your best friend?"
Annoyed by the turn of events, Chuck did what he did best—made everyone feel uncomfortable. Leering at Serena he said, "I highly doubt they would let someone like you be a geisha, you're more than a bit tall."
Ignoring her gasp of indignation, he turned to Blair. Intentionally, he leaned over so his eyes could travel up and down the length of her body, lingering at her chest and the short length of her skirt, forcing her to uncross her legs. She was petite and had perfect china doll features. Flippantly he said, "You might pass the test, you're tiny enough."
"Chuck," Nate warned. "Stop messing around."
He was surprised to see the hint of a smile on Blair's lips. But when their eyes met, her face suddenly twisted in annoyance. They all sat in silence.
"O-kay," Blair said determinedly. It was clear that she wanted to make this work. "Did you ever make it to Osaka? The most delicious manju comes from there. My Daddy brought some for me last year."
"I prefer mochi, it's less sweet," Chuck said snottily. He was impressed that she knew what it was, not that he would admit it. "But then again, it's not that surprising you'd prefer manju, you are a girl."
"I see," she said coolly, all the effort at politeness drained from her face. She flipped her hair casually, while narrowing her eyes at him.
He raised a brow to challenge her.
Instead of taking the bait, she cocked her head to the side and ignored him. With eyes only for his friend, Blair said, "Have a cookie, Natie."
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Although Nate had been less than pleased with Chuck's behavior over lunch, he was too good natured to hold a grudge, especially since Chuck had been out of the country for so long. While Nate had gone to lacrosse practice, he had had to meet with his teachers to pick up his missed assignments. A quick glance at his watch told him Nate would be another thirty minutes. He sat down on the steps and pulled out his copy of The Order of the Phoenix. He knew he should start on his schoolwork, but after meeting Blair today, he needed to make sure he tied up this loose end.
"Voldermort's got Sirius."
"What?"
"How d'you—?"
"Saw it. Just now. When I fell asleep in the exam."
"But—but where? How?" said Hermione, whose face was white.
"I dunno how," said Harry. "But I know exactly where. There's a room in the Department of Mysteries full of shelves covered in these little glass balls, and they're at the end of row ninety-seven…He's trying to use Sirius to get whatever it is he wants from in there…He's torturing him…Says he'll end by killing him…"
Harry found his voice was shaking, as were his knees. He moved over to a desk and sat down on it, trying to master himself.
"What are you reading?" An increasingly familiar voice interrupted him.
Chuck looked up to find Blair, Serena and Nate staring at him. He'd been so absorbed in reading he hadn't heard them approaching.
"Harry Potter," Nate eagerly answered for him, excited to finally find a common ground between all four of them. He flashed a sweet smile at Blair. "I told him how you convinced me to read the series, and then he decided to do it, too."
"Blair can convince anyone to do anything," Serena said loyally.
"The Order of the Phoenix came out in June. Surely, it doesn't take you three months to finish a book, does it?" Blair asked him condescendingly.
He gritted his teeth.
Again, Nate jumped in, "Well, Chuck only started reading the books a couple of months ago. He had to start with the first one."
Blair wrinkled her nose. "I still don't understand why you two were so averse to reading the books—."
"They're sooooo magical!" Nate and Serena chorused together, causing Blair to smile in chagrin.
"Once you start reading, I don't know how you could put the book down. I mean, I couldn't stand not knowing what happens next," she said dramatically. A wicked smile flashed across her face. "Or maybe you're too feeble-minded to grasp the concept of the story. Are there too many words in the book for you?"
"I'm almost done with it, I'll be finished tonight. Satisfied, Princess?" Chuck ground out. God, she was unrelenting, but instead of annoyance, he felt lightheaded—his stomach was churning.
"Then you have gotten to the part where Sirius dies?" Blair asked as she blinked at him innocently.
He just stared at her.
"Blair!" Serena gasped.
"What? He said he was almost done," She said defensively. Then she turned to him with a faux apologetic look on her face, "I didn't spoil it for you, did I?"
She was pure evil and a bitch and bewitching—irony intended—and only twelve years old. In awe, he realized that Blair Waldorf was perfect and he might just love her.
"You did," he said crossly as he slammed his book closed and tossed it into his backpack. He chose to focus on his anger, instead of how delightfully her lips twitched as she tried to repress her smirk of satisfaction.
"Oops! I'm so sorry, Chuck. I hope you're not mad at me."
"It was an accident, I'm sure Chuck's not mad," Nate reassured her. "Even if he was, who could possibly stay mad at you."
"Natie," Blair giggled. "You are so sweet."
He watched as Nate puffed up with pride from Blair's compliment, and Serena's face fell in disappointment when his friend put an arm around the brunette.
"Nate's right, Blair, it's just a book anyway," Chuck drawled indifferently. He wasn't worried, he'd get her back. Even if she was beautiful and sneaky and perfect, this slight would not go unavenged. She had thrown down the gauntlet and set the stage for their relationship. Even now, when Nate wasn't looking, she wore a smug look of triumph. The score might currently be in her favor, but it wouldn't be forever.
Blair—1, Chuck—0.
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July 2005
It had eventually all worked out. After a couple of weeks of underhanded, covert attacks against each other, all of which entertained Chuck greatly, he and Blair had somehow found a common ground—their wit. They seemed to catch the little details that often went unnoticed, the details they could use to bend others to do their will. She fascinated him, how she seemed perfectly innocent on the outside, but had a hidden deviousness. Once a begrudging respect for one another had been established, it paved the way for the inevitable—Blair and Nate, dating. His only solace was that Serena seemed just as unhappy about it as he was, only Chuck concealed it so much better.
Over the next twenty two months, he became quite adept at masking how enthralled he was by her. Chuck didn't know how someone like her could have the myriad of insecurities she did. He couldn't even begin to add up the amount of hours he spent watching her, no one ever seemed to notice. Although he had come to terms with the fact that there were many girls out there equally as attractive, they all lacked one thing that only Blair seemed to possess—the promise of happiness. He coveted the way she stared adoringly at Nate, the way she listened to his every word, like his opinions mattered. He wanted to be the guy she looked at that way—like he was someone worthy of her attention. But despite all of that, he still remembered the way she had vindictively spoiled the end of The Order of the Phoenix. He had waited nearly two years to exact his revenge, and that day had finally come.
For the second straight summer, Nate had taken Blair with him to the Vanderbilt compound for Fourth of July. She had stayed there for three weeks, fully participating in all of the Vanderbilt activities—sailing being number one on that list. So upon her return to Manhattan, Chuck was certain that the first thing on her to-do list was to read The Half-Blood Prince. Unfortunately for her, he had gotten a copy the moment it went on sale. In fact, he had read the book straight through, forgoing any other of his preferred activities just to make certain that Blair would get what she had coming to her. He was hellbent on repaying Blair with a spoiler that would ruin her enjoyment of reading the book.
Chuck had tricked Nate into finding out when and where Blair planned on reading the book. His clueless friend had informed him that she was going to read it outdoors, by her favorite duck pond. This was going to be too easy. Chuck had his driver wait outside the Waldorf penthouse until he spotted her crossing the street, book clutched in hand. He waited until she entered the park before he got out of the car and followed in pursuit. He wasn't worried, he knew the exact spot she was headed towards.
For the next half hour, he stared at her, counting the number of pages she turned. He wanted to get this just right. He was in no rush, after all, because staring at her was his favorite hobby—one he couldn't seem to rid himself of. Blair was a constant flurry of choreographed activity, playing to an audience that didn't exist. Or rather, she played to an audience she didn't realize existed—him.
Blair was meticulous, and he knew she was carefully reading every single word of The Half-Blood Prince, she wouldn't want to miss a single detail. When her eyes widened, he knew she had just finished reading about the Unbreakable Vow, and Chuck stood up from his hiding place and made his way over.
From the moment he finished reading the book, he had racked his brain to come up with the perfect words to deliver the same type of impact her words had done to him. It had to be concise enough so that she couldn't block him out, even if she realized what he was trying to do. But then the magical words had appeared to him, and he hadn't been able to stop smiling for an entire day.
Chuck leaned over, his eyes briefly shutting so he could inhale the fragrance of Blair's shampoo. His lips hovered less than an inch away from her ear, but she was so focused on reading the book she didn't even notice him standing there. His heart skipped a beat, both from being so close to her and the thrill of enacting revenge. It may have taken almost two years, but he was going to savor every last moment of this.
In a loud, clear drawl, he said those three little words that would change everything, "Snape kills Dumbledore."
Blair was startled by the sound of his voice and her face jerked up. Chuck stepped back just in time to miss her head bumping into his chin. Her mouth was slightly open and she looked a bit confused. "Huh?"
He gave a slow smirk and then repeated those words again, only slower. "Snape kills Dumbledore."
She squinted her eyes and stared at him blankly. "What?"
"Snape kills Dumbledore."
Her face froze as her jaw dropped.
"Snape kills Dumbledore."
Her lips twitched and her eyes were open so wide, he thought they might pop out of her head.
"Snape kills Dumbledore."
It felt rhythmical repeating those words, over and over again. It had such a nice ring to it.
"Ch—," Blair started to say angrily.
"Snape kills Dumbledore," he cut her off with relish.
She screeched in frustration and stamped her foot. "I hate you, Chuck Bass!"
He merely shrugged before innocently blinking his eyes at her. "I didn't spoil it for you, did I?"
"I can't believe you did this!"
"Oops! I'm so sorry, Blair. I hope you're not mad at me," he mocked smugly.
"But I didn't do it on purpose, it just slipped out. It was an accident," she defended herself.
"So was this."
He didn't care that she hurled her fists at his chest a second later and then kicked him in the shin. It hurt like fucking hell, but all he knew was that this was a victory. It had taken him twenty two months, but the score was finally tied.
Blair—1, Chuck—1.
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July 2007
Blair didn't talk to Chuck for the rest of that summer, and he had actually been surprised. He never admitted it to anyone, but he had been more than a little miserable with the absence of her presence. But all was fair in love and war, and she would never realize how perfect they were for each other, if he just rolled over and acted like her lapdog. No, he would challenge her and dish it out as well as she could. So on the first day of high school, when she had greeted him coolly, and said it was all water under the bridge, he didn't know how to respond. But after school, they had all gone out and goofed around and summer seemed like a distant memory.
But now, it was nearly two years later, and Blair was trying his patience. She was floundering from all the crap that had happened over the past year, and he was the only one who could see that she was drowning. For the past hour, he had been trying to convince her that the best thing for her would be a week-long vacation out of the city, and he was failing miserably.
"My dad has already spoken to your mother, Waldorf," he said crossly. "Dorota's even packed a bag. There's nothing for you to do here, except mope around eating your Gold Collection chocolates and watching Breakfast at Tiffany's a hundred more times."
"No one asked you to come here," Blair sneered. "And I don't think your best friend would be so happy to know that you're trying to take his girlfriend on a trip. You remember Nate, don't you? My boyfriend?"
"How could I forget?" He snapped back sarcastically.
"I think it's completely inappropriate for us to be traveling together alone," she continued as she reached for a chocolate. "It's clear that my mother has lost her mind if she thinks I'm safe with you, going God knows where."
Chuck closed his eyes and brought a hand to massage the bridge of his nose. He told himself to calm down and practice patience and restraint. Her father had just moved to Paris. She didn't know that the reason Serena left town was because she had slept with her boyfriend. Nate had gone on a month-long sailing with his cousin Tripp. Blair was all alone—except for him.
"What did you tell Bart that made him think this was even remotely a good idea? Are you blackmailing—."
"Waldorf," he said menacingly.
She matched him glare for glare. "What?"
"As hard as this might be for you to believe, I assure you, I have absolutely no designs on defiling your body—at least not for the duration of this trip. Let's not beat around the bush, Blair. Your father left your mother for a male model. Your best friend has disappeared to boarding school and my best friend is at sea. You're miserable, and I'm you're only friend."
"You are not my only friend," she hissed.
He rolled his eyes. "I'm the only friend you trust and the only friend you can be yourself around. I don't give a shit that your father is gay. And you're my only friend, not named Nathaniel."
Blair looked slightly mollified.
Sensing a victory, he applied the pressure. "Gossip Girl has a hit out for a picture of you, she says a true Queen wouldn't hide. So, why don't we give her something to talk about? Let's thumb our noses at everyone. We'll see what they all have to say when we're spotted painting the town red in London."
"London?" Her eyes lit up.
He winced. Shit. He hadn't wanted to tip his hand.
"We have the Bass jet at our disposal for a week. I had to beg my dad to do this. So can you please get your ass out of bed, so we can leave already?"
Her eyes softened and she nodded. "I suppose, I shouldn't be ungrateful that you've gone to all the trouble. And since, Bart already spoke to Eleanor…"
"Thanks."
"Besides, it probably wouldn't hurt for you to take some time off from whoring."
"This week is looking less and less enticing."
She kicked off her comforter and then shooed him out of her bedroom. "I'll be ready in an hour."
"Try thirty minutes."
"Bass, I need an hour."
"Well you have thirty minutes, and not a second more. I have something arranged, and it would behoove us to be on time. You can preen in the jet, Waldorf."
"Fine!"
Blair shoved him out the door. He could hear her muttering obscenities.
"If you're not out here in twenty-nine minutes, I'm going in there, and getting you myself."
"I hate you!"
"You say that now, but later tonight, you'll be singing a different tune, how you just can't live without me."
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"I thought we were going to a club," Blair grumbled.
"Well you thought wrong," Chuck grumbled back.
"Then where are we going?"
"It's a surprise."
"The little charm you had is wearing off."
"We're almost there."
Blair crossed her arms and glared at him. "Almost is not there."
He sighed and shook his head. He took comfort in the fact that she was going to feel like a complete ass within the next hour.
The car was still negotiating the crowded streets, as it slowly made its way along Cromwell Road, when Blair was unable to stop herself from huffing, "Why did I ever agree to come here with you? Are we going to sit in traffic all night?"
The chauffeur coughed discreetly, before saying, "Miss, it should only be a few more minutes."
Although the driver could not see his face, Chuck smiled gratefully in his direction. Then he turned to Blair and snapped, "For once, could you just trust me? It will be completely worth it, I promise. I so hate to use the guilt card, but I traded in my Christmas gift so I could do this for you. So for the last time, please shut up, and act like a well-behaved guest."
Blair's mouth dropped open and he though he saw her foot twitch, but then suddenly she froze. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him, "Why would you do that for me? Do you think I'm going to be grateful enough to let you take advantage of me? You couldn't possibly expect—."
"This is going to settle the score between us, once and for all," he said ominously. He softened his voice a moment later, "I will deny it to my death if anyone asks, but Waldorf, we are friends. And sometimes friends do nice things for friends."
She stared at him for a moment, and then reached out and squeezed his hand in hers. "Thank you, Chuck."
He breathed a sigh of relief as the car lurched to a halt. The chauffeur quickly got out of the car and opened the door on Blair's side.
"What are we doing at the Natural History Museum?" She asked with a furrowed brow. "And the back entrance, at that?"
Chuck placed his hand on her elbow and guided her towards the rear entrance that a security officer was flagging them towards. The sound of hundreds of children could be heard in the distance.
"It appears that in your downward spiral of depression and self-pity, you've forgotten that tonight is the midnight release of Harry—."
"Potter and the Deathly Hallows!" Blair interrupted with a squeal. She stopped and tugged on his sleeve excitedly. "So are we going to a Harry Potter themed party? And why didn't you tell me? I could have gotten all dressed up—."
"Well, J.K. Rowling is doing a midnight reading of the first chapter for a group of 500 children who were chosen at random to commemorate the event," Chuck interrupted smugly. "And Bart pulled strings, so we can watch from above the fray, before snagging two signed copies of the book."
He didn't expect for Blair to throw her arms around him and hug him so tightly.
"I can't breathe, Waldorf," he managed to squeak a minute later.
Blair finally let go, and tugged on his arm, dragging him towards the guard who was still impatiently waving at them. "Come on, Bass, I don't want to be late."
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Two and a half hours later, they sat next to each other on the king-sized bed in the larger room of the two bedroom suite, ready to start their books.
Blair turned towards him, her eyes aglow. "We're reading this together, right?"
"That's kinda the plan."
"But I'm going to read it extra slow, so I don't miss a single thing," she explained. With a hint of uncertainty, she added, "Is that ok?"
"I don't know. First, I had to practically beg you to come with me to London. Next, you whined the entire time we were on our way to the Museum. And now, at two-thirty a.m., you want me to read extra slow? I don't know Waldorf, the tax on that last request is going to be pretty steep," he teased her.
She blushed. "I just don't want it to be the way it was with The Order of the Phoenix and The Half-Blood Prince. I want us to finish at the same time…so neither of us can spoil it for the other."
"Well, since you asked so nicely…" Chuck said drolly.
Blair rolled her eyes. "Ok, are you ready?"
He nodded.
They opened the cover of the book in unison and turned it to the first page—even if they had heard J.K. Rowling read it aloud, it wouldn't hurt to read it again. This book represented the end of an era—so when the book ended, the magic of their childhood would disapparate with it.
"Happy reading, Blair," he said with a smile.
"Happy reading, Chuck."
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His eyes were growing heavy with sleep, and he kept slouching lower and lower on the bed. As the minute clock crept closer and closer to the five o'clock hour, he chanced a peek at Blair. She yawned loudly and pressed her shoulder against his. The later it got, the closer she had inched towards him.
"Blair, if you're tired, we can stop now. I'll even let you sleep in this room, and take the other one," he magnanimously offered.
She shook her head stubbornly. "Just one more chapter."
Chuck sighed.
"Please? I promise we can stop afterwards," she said sleepily.
"Fine. But just one more."
"It's Kreacher's Tale, you know it'll be good."
He rubbed his eyes tiredly and nodded his head. She breathed a sigh of relief as she shifted even closer to him so she could lean against his shoulder.
Harry woke early next morning, wrapped in a sleeping bag on the drawing room floor. A chink of sky was visible between the heavy curtains: It was the cool, clear blue of watered ink, somewhere between night and dawn, and everything was quiet except for Ron and Hermione's slow, deep breathing. Harry glanced over at the dark shapes they made on the floor beside him. Ron had had a fit of gallantry and insisted that Hermione sleep on the cushions from the sofa, so that her silhouette was raised above his. Her arm curved to the floor, her fingers inches from Ron's. Harry wondered whether they had fallen asleep holding hands. The idea made him feel strangely lonely.
Chuck heard Blair's slow and steady breath as the book slid out of her grasp and onto her lap. She turned towards him, making herself more comfortable as sleep overtook her. It had been awhile since he had been around Blair when she was this tired. She was less guarded when sleepy, and strangely more affectionate. He gingerly moved his hand so it brushed against the back of hers. Her fingers unconsciously interlaced with his. He rested his head lightly against hers and closed his eyes.
They were both fast asleep less than a minute later.
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The loud smack to his chest woke him up instantly, as he sat straight up, trying to orient himself.
"You said I could sleep in this room, and you would leave," Blair said haughtily.
Sprawling onto his back, he turned his head to face away from her. "It's not my fault I fell asleep, I told you we should've stopped reading. What time is it anyway?"
"Nine-thirty."
"Geez, Blair, couldn't you let me sleep another hour or something," he whined into his pillow.
"I would have if your snoring hadn't woken me up," she snapped. She yanked the pillow out from underneath him and hit him over the head. "Get up, order me a cappuccino and a croissant, and take a shower in the other room. I want to start reading again."
He propped up an elbow. "You know if we showered together, we could conserve some water, help to save the planet."
When the pillow hit him in the face, again, he was prepared for it, and continued to smile. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much," he said when the attack stopped.
She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him towards the door. Before he could stop her, she shoved him out and slammed the door shut. Through the barrier he heard her voice float out, "I'll expect breakfast to be laid out in an hour."
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"What did you do to him?" Lucius asked Greyback. "How did he get into this state?"
"That wasn't us."
"Looks more like a Stinging Jinx to me," said Lucius.
His gray eyes raked Harry's forehead.
"There's something there," he whispered, "it could be the scar, stretched tight…Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"
Harry saw Draco's face up close now, right behind his father's. They were extraordinarily alike, except that while his father looked beside himself with excitement, Draco's expression was full of reluctance, even fear.
"I don't know," he said, as he walked away toward the fireplace where his mother stood watching.
"We had better be certain, Lucius," Narcissa called to her husband in her cold, clear voice.
"This is too intense!" Blair exclaimed four hours later, breaking the silence that had descended after breakfast. "I can't believe Draco lied. And for Harry."
"Well Draco and Harry have a thing for each other, it's so obvious," Chuck said with a smirk, knowing it would push her buttons.
She snorted. "Yeah, if that's true, then I guess I should worry that you and Nate have been hooking up behind my back for years."
Chuck purposely gave a shrug of indifference.
Blair's face scrunched up in frustration. "Ew! What is wrong with you?"
"You should have seen your face!" Chuck laughed hysterically. "Oh, it was priceless, I wish I had taken a picture."
He was still laughing when she punched him in the arm, and even when she stood up from the bed.
"C'mon, Waldorf, we both know that if I was going to sneak behind someone's back, I'd choose you to sneak around with," Chuck leered at her.
"You're disgusting," Blair said, but she looked appeased by his words.
Just as she was about to sit back down on the bed, he let out another jab, "But Potter and Malfoy, however, their chemistry is un-de-ni-a-ble!"
"Ugh, now I can't read," she said irritably.
"Why are you getting so worked up? If Draco was a girl—he does have minions, you know—you would be cheering for Harry to end up with her," Chuck said matter-of fact. Truthfully, he didn't have a preference either way, he just enjoyed tormenting her.
Blair's jaw dropped but no sound came out of her mouth.
"Think about it, Harry is the unloved orphan boy, who's determined to prove himself," Chuck pointed out. "And Draco is the only child of a family, rich in magical lineage, who appears to be outwardly evil, but has a conscience."
"But that's…I mean…" Blair started to sputter. The look on her face confirmed that his words had struck a chord and she was considering his words.
Chuck crossed his arms and smirked. "I believe that's Game—Set—Match."
Blair narrowed her eyes. "Oh stop projecting already, you are no Harry Potter."
"I don't want to be," he laughed.
She glared at him a moment longer before she stomped over to the desk across the room and pulled out the room service menu. "I'm going to order lunch, so you have to stop reading and you have to shut up."
"Will you call the concierge and ask them if they can get us some éclairs?"
"No," she snapped.
"Please?" He asked cajolingly. "I'll share them with you. Or you can ask them to go to whatever other food place you want?"
"Really?"
"Yup."
"So I can send them to Paris to fetch me a box of Pierre Herme macarons?" She asked in disbelief.
Fuck. Why did she have to outsmart him? He paused and considered if his father would even notice the room service charges. Chuck glanced at his watch, it was two o'clock. They were halfway through the book, and after lunch, they still had a couple of hours of reading left.
"Well, so long as you don't expect them to appear until after we've finished reading the book, I don't see why not," he said affably.
"Really?" Blair asked incredulously.
"You're not going to whine if I eat my éclairs first, are you?"
Blair shook her head.
"Then I'd order the biggest damn box they make, and ask them to triple it. If we're sending someone there anyway…"
She ran across the room and hugged him. "Bass, you are so forgiven!"
She skipped back to the table and asked for concierge in her most grown up voice. He placed his book on the nightstand when his stomach growled. Suddenly, he wished he had had more than half of Blair's croissant and an espresso for breakfast. Perhaps, he should take a look at the room service menu, too.
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"Just for the record," Blair said as she crawled back onto the bed, "We have to read the chapter over again, starting from the beginning."
He plopped down next to her, reached for his book and nodded his head.
Hermione's scream echoed off the walls upstairs, Ron was half sobbing as he pounded the walls with his fists, and Harry in utter desperation seized Hagrid's pouch from around his neck and groped inside it: He pulled out Dumbledore's Snitch and shook it, hoping for he did not know what—nothing happened—he waved the broken halves of the phoenix wand, but they were lifeless—the mirror fragment fell sparkling to the floor, and he saw a gleam of brightest blue—
Dumbledore's eye was gazing at him out of the mirror.
"Help us!" he yelled at it in mad desperation. "We're in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, help us!"
The eye blinked and was gone.
Harry was not even sure that it had really been there. He tilted the shard of mirror this way and that, and saw nothing reflected there but the walls and ceiling of their prison, and upstairs Hermione was screaming worse than ever, and next to him Ron was bellowing, "HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"
"He hasn't told her he loves her yet," Blair said with great agitation. "They haven't kissed, even. Ron has to save her! No, he will save her, right?"
"I don't know," Chuck answered honestly.
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"Hang on a moment!" said Ron sharply. "We've forgotten someone!"
"Who?" asked Hermione.
"The house-elves, they'll all be down in the kitchen, won't they?"
"You mean we ought to get them fighting?" asked Harry.
"No," said Ron seriously, "I mean we should tell them to get out. We don't want any more Dobbies, do we? We can't order them to die for us—"
There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione's arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet.
"Finally!" Blair squealed in delight, over two hours later. She grabbed a hold of his arm and shook it. "I was thinking it was never going to happen. They kissed! Ron and Hermione kissed!"
Before he could say a word, she had already released her grasp on him and dove back into the book. He stared at her lips as he muttered under his breath, "They kissed."
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"Does it make a difference, being Muggle-born?"
Snape hesitated. His black eyes, eager in the greenish gloom, moved over the pale face, the dark red hair.
"No," he said. "It doesn't make any difference."
"Good," said Lily, relaxing. It was clear that she had been worrying.
"You've got loads of Magic," said Snape. "I saw that. All the time I was watching you…"
His voice trailed away; she was not listening, but had stretched out on the leafy ground and was looking up at the canopy of leaves overhead. He watched her as greedily as he watched her in the playground.
Chuck gripped the book tightly as he let a gasp slip out. Cringing, he slowly turned to see if Blair was paying him any mind. Luckily for him, she wasn't. He already knew this wasn't going to end well—Snape's story, that was. Snape died very much alone, wanting to stare at Harry's eyes that were so very much like his mother Lily's.
Even as he stared at Blair now, Chuck wondered if those were accurate words to describe the way he looked when he watched her—greedy.
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And next, Snape was kneeling in Sirius's old bedroom. Tears were dripping from the end of his hooked nose as he read the old letter from Lily. The second page only carried a few words:
could never have been friends with Gellert Grindelwald. I think her mind's going, personally!
Lots of love,
Lily
Snape took the page bearing Lily's signature, and her love, and tucked it inside his robes. Then he ripped in two the photograph he was holding, so that he kept the part from which Lily laughed, throwing the portion showing James and Harry back onto the floor, under the chest of drawers….
Chuck's heart started pounding a bit too quickly, as the pages in front of him blurred. He recognized the despair that Snape felt. Sometimes it would creep upon Chuck when he least expected it—like now. Was he as unlovable as Snape? Of course Lily Evans would end up with James Potter, after all, wasn't Blair like Lily—loved by everyone? And Nate was nothing if not the present day reincarnation of James—Quidditch, lacrosse, it was all the same.
He heard Blair sniffling and turned to catch her wiping the tears from her face.
"What?" She said defensively. "Snape's unrequited love for Lily is romantic."
"You big softie," he said, wincing that his voice came out a bit strangled.
Fortunately, she got dreamy-eyed and wistful and didn't notice. She just stared off into space. "His Patronus Charm was a doe, even after all this time. He had absolutely no hope of being with her, but she was his only moment of happiness. Snape might not be the ideal romantic hero, but he was. It makes so much sense now, doesn't it? Why he hated Harry so much?"
Her speech had given him enough time to recover.
"Waldorf, you turn everything into a fairy tale, don't you?" He asked snidely.
"Oh please, at least Snape had a sense of romance in him. What would your Patronus Charm be—your scarf? your limo? a bottle of scotch?"
Your headband, actually. The words died as his mouth opened. His face flushed with a tinge of red, the silence a condemnation of his guilt.
"Cat got your tongue?" Blair said snottily as she raised her nose and turned away from him.
"It'd probably be my bedpost—although, it's not really a bedpost, what with all the notches I have on it," he finally said cockily.
"You are disgusting, and I hate you."
"What would be your Patronus Charm— a duck? your My Little Pony doll that you have hidden in the back of your closet?" He sneered.
"Probably a duck," Blair confessed a moment later as she shot him an embarrassed smile. "I don't remember Patronus Charms ever being anything other than a shape of an animal, so no inanimate objects for you," she teased. "I'm going to take a stab in the dark, would your Patronus charm be a…fish? Sea bass, perhaps?"
"Ha ha ha, how clever of you," he said sarcastically.
Blair giggled before she clamped her hands over her mouth. Her laughter was contagious, and he couldn't help but join in.
"A monkey," he answered begrudgingly, a moment later.
"A monkey?" She parroted back in surprise.
"A monkey," he confirmed.
"That's almost sweet, Bass. You could name your monkey, Sweetie!"
He wanted to make a comment about how she was the one who picked the animal whose named rhymed with his, as well as another four-letter-word he was so very fond of. Instead, he just scowled at her and turned his attention back to the book.
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A chilly breeze that seemed to emanate from the heart of the forest lifted the hair at Harry's brow. He knew that they would not tell him to go, that it would have to be his decision.
"You'll stay with me?"
"Until the very end," said James.
"They won't be able to see you?" asked Harry.
"We are part of you," said Sirius. "Invisible to anyone else."
Harry looked at his mother.
"Stay close to me," he said quietly.
"You don't think Harry's going to die, do you?" Blair said worriedly.
"I hope not," Chuck said softly. He was overcome with emotion and more than a hint of jealousy for this fictional character. He wished he could see his mother, hear words of assurance that he was loved.
When he started to stare off into space, he was surprised that Blair reached over and squeezed his hand. He squeezed back, before pulling his hand away and returning to the book. He pretended to read, but he could feel Blair eyes on him for a few more moments.
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"But you want me to go back?"
"I think," said Dumbledore, "that if you choose to return, there is a chance that he may be finished for good. I cannot promise it. But I know this, Harry, that you have less to fear from returning here than he does."
Harry glanced again at the raw-looking thing that trembled and choked in the shadow beneath the distant chair.
"Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love. By returning, you may ensure that fewer souls are maimed, fewer families are torn apart. If that seems to you a worthy goal, then we say good-bye for the present."
Harry nodded and sighed. Leaving this place would not be nearly as hard as walking into the forest had been, but it was warm and light and peaceful here, and he knew that he was heading back to pain and the fear of more loss. He stood up, and Dumbledore did the same, and they looked for a long moment into each other's faces.
"Tell me one last thing," said Harry. "Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?"
Dumbledore beamed at him, and his voice sounded loud and strong in Harry's ears even though the bright mist was descending again, obscuring his figure.
"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"
Just as he was about to turn the page, he heard the distinct sound of a throat clearing. Chuck looked up.
"This is genius! Rowling managed to both have Harry live and die," Blair said excitedly.
She was so animated, but he could see the hint of hope that lurked in her eyes, that her all-too-accurate intrusion on his emotional state a few moments ago, would be forgiven.
"It is pretty cool," he admitted.
"Back to the book," she ordered bossily, hiding her smile of relief.
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"Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"
"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!" Voldermort's voice shook with malicious pleasure. "I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!"
"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard…The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance…"
Chuck jumped slightly when Blair's hand reached out and smacked him in the arm. He looked over at her, but she was so engrossed in reading, she hadn't even realized she hit him. With a smirk, he catalogued how her eyes widened and the adorable way she bit her lip nervously. He was tempted to sit back and just stare at her, but he was so close to the end. He shook his head and turned back to his book.
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The last trace of steam evaporated in the autumn air. The train rounded a corner. Harry's hand was still raised in farewell.
"He'll be all right," murmured Ginny.
As Harry looked at her, he lowered his hand absentmindedly and touched the lightning scar on his forehead.
"I know he will."
The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.
Chuck looked up just in time to see Blair shut her book with relish. Clutching the now closed book to her chest, she leaned back against the headboard and let out a happy sigh. A moment later, she turned her head to look at him and smiled.
It was official, the slate had been wiped clean and they could stop keeping score. Instead of Chuck versus Blair it'd be Chuck and Blair versus the world.
Yeah, he smiled back at her, all was well.
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fin.
A/N: Passages from Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling were used.
Technically, this story goes against my personal canon, I do not believe that Chuck has always carried a torch for Blair, but it worked so perfectly for this story, that I simply could not resist. This was inspired by a true story and then modified and tweaked so it could fit into this pre-pilot world of Chuck and Blair. The timeline is canon compliant for both GG and HP book release dates.
Thank you to the most spectacular beta, EVER, Uncorazonquebrado. Seriously, you warm my heart in so many ways—not only are you a spectacular writer, you also just get it. You have the ability to guide and challenge me and for that, I will be eternally grateful.
This story is also dedicated to Uncorazonquebrado and OllieCullie (thank you, btw, for being such a good friend and encouraging me along), because I know you both appreciated the story that inspired this fic as much as I did and due to our shared enjoyment of the Harry Potter series.
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it—sorry if it got a little HP quote heavy towards the end.