Blaise nodded his head to affirm his answer and the interrogator continued
"When did you first begin a romantic relationship with aforementioned Harry Potter?"
"Late in what would have been our seventh year."
"If you weren't in school, how did you meet?"
Blaise gave a wry smile.
"A twist of fate."

The dark wizard glared at the pale one. "Would you quit pacing?"
Draco shook his head. "It's calming," he rasped.
Blaise shrugged, "Well it's getting on my nerves."
"Too bad."
Blaise pushed himself out of his chair, "I'm going for a walk."
Draco called after him, "If you're going into town, bring me back a gallon of ice cream, would you?"
Blaise shrugged a maybe and slammed the door behind him, hard, and smiled.

"So you went into town, what town?"
"Some small muggle place, I can't remember the name."
"Ah, sorry, carry on, you went into town…"
"Well, not at first."

Blaise stood at the top of the hill, far enough from the safe house, close enough to see the village, and screamed.
Simply screamed.
He took a deep breath and pulled out his wand, shooting a bird that flew by, and smiled a killer's smile. One could easily imagine blood dripping from his teeth, staining them pink against his brown lips.
Blaise kicked rocks off the sidewalk and winked at a girl who passed him. His eye was caught by a rather cute specimen, however, and approached him.
Getting closer, Blaise saw the lightning scar on the man's forehead, and his first thought was, This is better than ice cream.

"So, was it Harry Potter?"
Blaise shot the interrogator a disbelieving look, "How many people walk 'round Britain with a lightning bolt scar?"
The interrogator offered a weak smile and Blaise continued.

A predatory grin crossed his face, much like the one he had worn earlier.
He walked boldly up to Harry, knowing that an attempt to sneak up on the Boy-Who-Lived would result in his death. Harry had learned to kill first and ask questions never.
Blaise wrapped his arm around Harry's neck, and began kissing his way down Harry's jaw.
"What the—"
"Shh," Blaise whispered, twisting his arm so Harry could see the green tattoo.
Stupefy.

The interrogator was hanging on Blaise's every word, his ears twitching when Blaise had mentioned kissing Harry.
Blaise sighed, he didn't care to tell the story of his sex life with Harry Potter to horny fools.
You promised to tell the truth, The voice in his head reminded him, and Blaise carried on.

When he woke up, he was tied to a bed naked, and Harry Potter was sitting at the foot of it.
"You know, I never figured you for the kinky type, Potter, I figured simply the thought of bondage would make you twitch and blush."
He was proven right, when the wizard twitched and blushed. Blaise smirked.
"It's not bondage!" Harry spat, "I just don't want you getting away, that's all."
"I'm not averse to bondage myself," Blaise continued, "But an easier way to make me stay would be to,"
"Harry!"
Hermione Granger rushed in, her bushy hair bouncing, "I've tracked it! I found it!"
Her eyes fell on the nude body of Blaise, "Urk."
"Hello, Granger." Blaise nodded.
"Eghl."
Blaise raised his eyebrows, "See something you like?"
She shook her head, and with an obvious force of will, turned to Harry, "I, um, found the uh, the, thing."
Harry nodded, "Where?"
Her eyes darted to Blaise, but Harry motioned for her to continue.
"An ex-Slytherin actually has it. Blaise Zabini. Regulus was one of Isabelle Zabini's lovers, and he gave it to her as a last gift."
Harry's eyes went to the piles of clothes he had magically stripped from Blaise's body and stuck out his hand.
The locket floated up out of the pile and flew into Harry's hand.
Hermione gasped and pointed to Blaise, "He's Blaise Zabini?"
"I'm not mute!" Blaise muttered when Harry nodded.
"Unfortunately," Harry said.

"Locket?"
"A Horecrux."
Blaise was reaffirmed in the belief that his interrogator was an idiot.

The locket was thrown back at Blaise the next morning.
"I should kill you," Harry said conversationally as he untied the ropes around Blaise.
As soon as Blaise's hands were untied he grabbed Harry's head and stuck his tongue in his mouth.
He flipped them over and quickly divested Harry of his clothes and—

"And?"
A disturbingly eager expression was on the face of the interrogator.
Blaise shot him a look full of scorn and mentally damned the questioner to hell.

Harry lay on the bed, chest heaving, "That was," he took a deep breath and let it go, "intense."
"You forgot to mention it was also the best you've ever had."
Harry laughed, "That too."

"Alright," Blaise saw a flash of disappointment in the interrogator's eyes, "next question."
Blaise arched an eyebrow and waited.
"When was the last time you saw Harry Potter?"
Blaise's throat tightened and he felt his heart plummet.

Tied back to the bed, he watched through slitted betrayal filled eyes as Harry Potter walked away.
"Wait," he called. But the only response was Hermione's giggles, Ron's deep laugh, and Harry's sigh of contentment.

The interrogator pulled off his glasses and allowed the spell to wear off.
"Harry?" Blaise blinked and pinched himself.
Harry nodded.
"I didn't meant to, I really didn't. I thought you didn't care."
Blaise shrugged.
Harry held out his hand and Blaise put his left wrist in it. The skin had been cut off, and a red raging scar remained. "We can be scar buddies," Blaise quipped.
Harry laughed, and Blaise sighed in contentment.