Chapter Seven: That Was Not What I Meant
Disclaimer:Same as always, nothing is owned.
November 1St 2003
Blaise had one hell of a fucking headache, the kind that radiated from the back of your head and pressed unmercifully into your eye sockets. His stomach was rolling, threatening to expose whatever contents he had consumed the night before and the light escaping from the half-drawn blinds had him groaning and clutching a pillow over his face.
In layman's terms, he was undeniably and unquestioningly hung the fuck over.
He needed to find his wand, he needed to find a hangover potion. Rolling over and finally managing to talk his aching body into sitting up, he winced as the light of the day assaulted his periphery-he needed to murder the sun.
Groggily, he felt around for his wand on the side table, flicking it immediately in the direction of the obtrusive rays and cloaking his room in a welcoming darkness when it met his hand. He managed to lift himself up from the bed and his entire body began screaming at him to just lay back down and sleep for the next twelve hours. He cursed himself again for not listening to Parkinson's warning last night pertaining to the youngest Weasley.
Ginny certainly hadn't been lying when she said she could drink him under the table. She had succeeded and then some. Not only did she drink him under the table, the floor, and left him passed out in a pool of shame and probably urine on the ground of the cellar; she'd also punched him in the nose when he made a grab for her arse.
"What a woman." He smiled at the memory, rubbing at his bruised nose fondly.
"Maybe…." He muttered to himself while shoving uncoordinated limbs through a pair of crumpled up jeans and an old Quidditch jersey from his Hogwarts glory days, found in a pile of forgotten clean laundry from months before. "Maybe those last few shots weren't the brightest idea."
He found a pair of beige boat shoes and slipped them on and started towards his bedroom's exit. He had forgotten that he didn't have much in the possessions department here, since he basically lived in hotels these days.
Although, since Hermione had moved in, he had a constant nagging feeling like it was time to pack up what little was here and go ahead and move out officially, not just in theory.
It wasn't an uncomfortable environment the few times he was here and they all three were dwelling in the posh flat, but he still felt like he was intruding on their budding domesticated lifestyle.
He was stood in front of his door, hand grasping the handle, mid-turn when he heard it. A loud howl permeated through the thick walls, and he found himself unsure if it was an animal or human.
Whatever it was, the sound had been one of shock and pain and Blaise was instantly alert. He grasped his wand tightly, a few spells on his tongue, ready to take on whatever was outside.
He opened his door slowly and made his way stealthily into the hallway. A door slamming
loudly and an exasperated utterance of the words "Are you fucking kidding me?" had him training his eyes towards Draco and Hermione's room all the way at the end of the hall. The sight that met him had his eyes wide, nearly bulging out of his still-sore sockets. Hermione was wrapped in only a black sheet and was now pounding on the closed and, apparently, by the sounds of Hermione's pleas, locked door.
They must not have known that he had came home last night. It was such a rare occurrence with his demanding job, after all. He and curiosity were always comfortable bedfellows and Blaise found himself casting a quick disillusionment spell so he could see how this played out.
Also, because he kind of wanted to see Hermione's arse.
"This is absolutely ridiculous, Draco, you're acting like a child."
*Bang Bang Bang*
"Come on, this is a little over the top, let me in!"
*Bang Bang Bang*
"I swear to Merlin if you don't open this door I'll Bombarda it!"
*Bang*
Blaise saw the door suddenly fly open. His fair-haired friend was now standing there starkers, leaning against the frame. Draco's arms were folded and his neck vein was throbbing in a display of obvious displeasure and anger. His eyes were narrowed and glaring at the pretty Gryffindor.
"Fuck you, Granger."
"Draco, you're the one who asked me to put something..."
Draco cut her off with a snort and threw his hands up in the air, his deflating erection slightly bobbing with his erratic movements.
" I meant like your finger, not that…"
Blaise watched dumbfounded as the blonde turned around stormed back into the bedroom and, seconds later, a navy dildo came flying out of the darkness, past the now slightly shaking form of a giggling Hermione, and landing unceremoniously on the floor at Blaise's feet. It bounced twice before rolling to a complete stop.
Blaise was still staring at it when he heard the door slam again and he looked up to discover that he was now alone, Hermione having had retreated back into her and Draco's room.
Looking back down and spying the dildo lying there, he laughed to himself.
Well, almost alone.
A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed so far, thanks and love to beta extraordinar Frogster!
Maybe two weeks before next update, Mom life is a busy and hectic one!
