„Blaise?" Dean was the first one to speak again. Blaise still lost in the comforting silence, only muttered "hmmm?" in order to keep up the atmosphere. "You don't have to do this. Comfort me and stuff. You still have a good reputation to lose. Okay, it might be a bit scratched because of the Malfoy-thing", Blaise shuddered, "but still. I you spend time with a lousy Gryffindor, you could really get into some social trouble. I don't want you to get into trouble. I shouldn't have told you this, I shouldn't…"

Suddenly, the dark boy was sobbing tearlessly. Blaise needed some seconds to understand what was going on, that Dean actually was crying for him. That somebody else was really worried about his reputation. This was usually his own job – if it was anybody's. He didn't care that much about other people's opinion and thus, he didn't have to think about what others might say about him being with a Gryffindor. He softly loosened the other's desperate, almost painful grip around his hands. "It's okay, let go", he whispered and pulled him closer until Dean's dread locks touched his shoulders. Slowly, the sobbing vanished while Blaise caressed Dean's muscular back. How strange. Even though the other boy was a bit taller and at least six kilos heavier, he seemed so small, so fragile. There had to be some way to ease his pain, to make him stop crying! Blaise didn't even think about it, he just started talking.

"I don't really have a good reputation at stake. As you were about your story, I'm surprised that mine isn't famous all about Hogwarts. You know, there was a time three years ago in which nobody, not even the best observer of human kind would have considered me as gay. I spent my nights with a lot of beautiful girls. Well, more or less beautiful and varying at least every, let's say, two weeks. I don't remember exactly what drove me, but I think I was looking for love and protection. It was hard to be away from home, especially from my mother. She's very special, you know?", he smiled briefly, then his voice and face became serious again, "Maybe I was searching for the one who could give me what I was given by my family. But all these girls only satisfied my desire – well, some of them not even that. As my lust decreased, I tried to keep it up by drinking alcohol. It was sort of a vicious circle until I found a way to express myself, the inner conflict I felt. It was summer time…

--- FLASHBACK---

It was indeed summer time. Thousands of German, American and Japanese tourists filled the historical centre of Pisa, Tuscany. Blaise and his friends Simone and Michele, both four years older and dark appearances, were sitting in the middle of the famous Piazza dei Miracoli, watching the crowd. Each of them wore the very same expression on their flawless faces: ironical, calm – superior. They shared a bottle of Vernaccia di San Gimignano – of course a good one. None of them had to worry about how much they could spend for a bottle of wine– they simply took everything they wanted to have. It was wonderful to feel the cool, almost sparkling wine run down their throats while the tourists around them were covered in sweat. Of course, the alcohol didn't miss its effects under the hot summer sun. Blaise was quite aware of the fact that he became more lightheaded with every sip he took. He watched around – a lot of good-looking girls in short skirts were taking photos with the famous tower or lying in the green-brown grass like he was. He smiled at one tiny fifteen-year-old with a freckled skirt and a Hello-Kitty-shirt; the poor thing remained completely dazzled, not even smart enough to re-close her mouth.

"Blaise, keep it down! You don't want all the nice ones to get a heart attack when they see you, right?", Simone's TADEL didn't really sound serious – and of course he wasn't. He had great fun kidding about Blaise's good looks, once he had gotten used to it. None of the three boys was really bad-looking, but Simone couldn't help but always look messy – and Michele's shape was rather round than slim. Nevertheless, they didn't envy him – instead, they had saved him from two or three pissed off boyfriends whose girls hadn't been able to forget Blaise's smile. It had been so easy to make them fall for him – a walk under the moonlight, some sweet words, a soft kiss... Life had been so easy... Then, he met her – and everything changed. Elena was a beautiful intelligent girl – almost a woman. She didn't fall for him, even though he had tried harder than ever. He had even sent her flowers and a love letter with some poetry. She refused him each time he tried to get close to her, until that very last night. The usual walk at night – the sky had never been more beautiful – the words he stumbled instead of whispering them seducingly as they were true for the first time, a kiss that blew his mind away...

The next day, she left for Venice and never returned. She left him broken-hearted and he fell. He started drinking, smoking – not only cigarettes. He continued illegally to do so when the summer holidays ended and he returned to Hogwarts. There, he frantically started to seduce every girl around as if to prove to himself that he still was the man he used to be.

But he wasn't. His depression didn't fade and with every female body leaving his bed, he felt worse. Until he discovered a way to cure his heart: A piano and a guitar he found when he passed the Room of Wonders searching for "a room to find myself" – these words were almost literally written into the deepest parts of his memory. He had spent hours in there, playing and playing and playing without even knowing any notes.

--- END OF FLASHBACK

"Blaise? Are you still there?" Again, Dean's voice ripped him out of his painful memories and his soft touch on Blaise's arm somehow prevented the usual neck-breaking crash. Blaise needed some seconds to confirm it, but indeed. This was the first time he had allowed the memories to come up and his heart didn't feel like bursting into thousands of little pieces. There was only this tiny itch, but it was supportable. Thus, he grinned triumphantly and answered: "Yep, more than ever! Sorry, but I was sort of lost in thoughts. Thanks, I'm fine" Things definitely seemed to get better. He had needed them to do so. He couldn't stand any more pain or sufferance, needed to get back into shape. Suddenly, he felt the strong urge to be alone – alone with his guitar. "Thank you for your help, Dean. Honestly. I hope you don't mind, but I need to be for myself a bit. See you at dinner, right?"

He had hoped things would get better. But the strange look in his new friend's eyes he saw before hurrying down the stairs suggested difficulties.

Dang it.

That's it for this time. I hope I'll be back soon =)
Thanks for your attention and I'd be glad (as usual) to hear your comments and constructive criticism.