Velvet Persuasion

Chapter Two:

"Blaise—"

"Aah—"

The heated moment belonged only to the occupants of the room, and Blaise was so grateful to have cast a soundproof spell on the classroom—just in case.

For Harry, he had gone all out: Blaise had gotten rid of all the desks and teacher's as well, and complete refurnished the room, conjuring a beautiful bed with black satin sheets and covers. And candles. Harry was a romantic, deep down, so there had to be candles. Floating candles everywhere.

Harry gave a final shout as Blaise released into him, the Slytherin's name ripped from his throat in desperate passion.

Trying to catch his breath, Blaise lowered himself to Harry's right side and took the Gryffindor's lips in a kiss. It was soft, fleeting, but he knew it was exactly what Harry needed. And, as Blaise expected, Harry moved slightly closer to him, head resting in the groove of Blaise's neck.

"Blaise…" Harry murmured against his skin, "Tomorrow's Saturday, so…"

Blaise shushed him.

"Yes," he added afterward, "You can stay here a bit longer."

(scene shift)

"Why do you keep doing this, Harry?" Hermione said, rising from her chair in the common room. Harry blanched; he hadn't thought that Hermione would be up. It was nearly five in the morning.

"You've been sneaking out for nearly a week in a half. Thank goodness Rom hadn't found out. I should tell him, Harry. I'm sure that he would be interested in knowing that you've been out with Blaise all this time."

Harry walked past the couch that Hermione was sitting on, not even looking back as he said, "My motives are none of your business," he said quietly.

"I think they are," Hermione replied. "Are you mad at me or Ron? Did either of us do something to make you upset. Is there something…that you want to tell us, but can't. There has to be a logical reason for this behavior, Harry."

When Harry finally turned, looking at her from the stairs of the Boy's Dormitories, he wore the most puzzling expression on his face. There was endearment in his eyes, but here was also a coldness, one that seemed to whisper something to Harry. And it looked as though Harry would obey it.

"Hermione," He continued calmly. "Maybe, for once, there is not logical explanation. Maybe it just happened."

"If it just happened, then why are you so secretive about it? Why are you so ashamed?"

"Why don't you just ask the others who've slept with Blaise, Hermione? See if they'll have a reasonable explanation."

"Exactly! Why would you even sleep with someone who's had so many others? Ginny used to love you, and she never even got a chance. I—" Hermione stopped momentarily. "You even turned me down. What does that Slytherin have that we didn't? That we don't?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing."

(scene shift)

Having had Harry so early in the morning, Blaise felt good enough to actually think about starting his half of Snape's damn project.

And as he was walking down a hall on the first floor heading towards the dungeons, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder, snatching at his robes and pulling him into an empty classroom as someone's mouth pressed harshly against his own.

Despite not having seen his captor, Blaise knew the man's sweet taste almost by heart.

"Bill!" he said as they separated.

Yes, Blaise found himself standing in front of the blue-eyed, pony-tailed, sexy-as-hell Bill Weasley. The only Weasley alive who had ever caught his eye. Somehow he wasn't like the other half-witted siblings.

Well, perhaps Blaise didn't view him that way because of the way they had met; while Blaise was vacationing in Spain…

"Yup. In the flesh," Bill returned calmly. "Gringotts sent me to speak with Dumbledore about the school's account. Nothing big. Dumbledore told me to take a stroll around the place while I was here, and who else should I find but you. Still sleeping around?"

Blaise looked slightly surprised. Considering that Blaise had never gone to school with Bill, the Slytherin's hadn't expected the other man to know anything about his reputation.

"Ron is my brother, you know."

"It is nice to know," Blaise said stiffly, "that I'm popular at the Weasley residence."

Bill raised an eyebrow. "Popular…? Sure, I'll give you that…from what I'm hearing these days, though, you're in high demand here."

"Maybe…it depends on who you're hearing that from," Blaise said coyly. Was Bill actually having someone watch him? The idea was strange, having someone watching over him.

"I'm not telling," Bill said with a roguish grin. "But…you do realize that I'll have to kill you if you ever touch Ron or Ginny." Despite the threat, lust hung from his every word.

"Out of brotherly duty or jealousy?" Was Blaise's response.

"Ha…both." Bill leaned in to kiss Blaise once more, and the Slytherin did nothing to stop him.

"Still as beautiful as ever, Bill."

"Flattery doesn't work on me," Bill kissed him yet again.

"Then why would you take this assignment—out of your way, I know it is—just to come as visit? You might not have found me at all."

"I could have come to see Ron." Another kiss.

"Instead of an owl? Not likely."

"Blaise…" Bill said seriously.

The Slytherin gave Bill his full attention. "Yes…?" he said breathlessly, tentatively.

"You don't have to be anywhere right now, do you?"

"No. I never thought you'd ask."

(scene shift)

Hermione never thought that she would have willingly walked to the dungeons for anything other than a Potions class. However, she needed to find Blaise, to discover what it was that he was doing to Harry.

What was making Harry so interested in Blaise?

Draco and Pansy were outside in the hall, their conversation becoming hushed whispers as Hermione's presence was realized.

"Excuse me," Hermione began quietly; despite her previous dealings with Draco, she did not want to start anything. "But do you know—"

"No, we do not know where Blaise is," Pansy snapped.

"Now," Draco added, "remove yourself from our dungeons."

Considering that they hadn't called her a Mudblood or said anything utterly disrespectful, Hermione decided to do just what Malfoy told her for a change, without argument or protest. In any case, she had a more pressing issue. Where in the hell could Blaise be?

"Dammit, Blaise," she muttered under her breath.

(scene shift)

"Dammit, Blaise," Harry said through gritted teeth.

It was noon already, and Harry had been looking for Blaise all morning. How was it that the damn Slytherin knew where the hell everyone else was, but no one could ever find him?

He leaned against a wall, glaring at two Hufflepuff girls who were whispering and pointing at him conspicuously as they walked by.

Where the hell was Blaise?

Honestly, his conversation with Hermione bothered him. What was it about Blaise that made him—and obviously many others—continue to go back to him? Harry wanted to know. It wasn't love; it had nothing to do with love, and Harry doubted that Blaise loved anyone, even if he was capable of doing so. Harry sighed.

"Maybe, for once, there is no logical explanation."

Was that really it? Was there really no explanation?

I'm sorry about my emotional outburst last time. I was spurred by the subject, and I promise that this Author's Note will not mention her at all, and will be significantly shorter.

A/N: I feel like this chapter is incomplete, but I can't do anything about it. I really can't. I wrote this story quite a while ago, and while it has a plot some of the descriptions seem a little bit "PWP" to me. I'll be attempting to clean some of this up, to try to actually get associations and a coherent story together for you all. I think that this is one of those things that you read because you like me as an author, not because it's good—the plot could have been made much larger, but I suppose that I can say that I'm happy with it. At least, I can tell you, it ends. I had issues with finishing stories at the time that this had been written, so I don't feel that bad about it…