Brewing Perfection

written by: albe-chan

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction and I do NOT own Harry Potter or any of the characters mentioned, I am making no money from this, and any similarities with real life are purely coincidental. This work will contain MATURE THEMES, such as coarse language, mature subject matter (scenes containing graphic sex, kinky sex and mild BDSM themes, nudity, etc.), and/or violence. Please, if you are not over the age of 18, or of majority in your country, DO NOT READ THIS! You have been warned!

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Lily felt something prickle her consciousness, rousing her from the deepest dregs of sleep, abruptly ending a dream that had left her, waking groggily in the dark, wondering where she was and like she'd just run a marathon. There was the faint sheen of sweat along her hairline and down her neck, making her clammy now as she sat up, and the redhead shivered, wondering what the hell could've possibly roused her from her exhaustion by crying induced slumber.

And then she froze, hearing the last thing she'd ever thought she'd hear. The sound of Blaise's voice outside her apartment door, words garbled over rapid knocking. For a long moment Lily sat there, stunned, heart racing, hope making her dizzy that maybe, just maybe, everything would be the same, that she could still have Blaise and play pretend they were dating, giving into the primal urges he stirred in her, and also work side by side him every day. She wanted to have her cake and eat it too, and although Lily was certain it made her unbearably selfish and greedy and dozens more horrible things, she couldn't resist the lure of Blaise. That much she'd at least learned.

With her heart thudding excitedly, buoyed up on hope, she grabbed her wand from the nightstand and jolted from bed, then hurried to her door and swiftly unlocked it. Indeed, on the other side of the portal, Blaise had come, and for one moment, Lily's heart swelled with joy. He hadn't forgotten his promise. He'd come to find her after it all. And then she registered his expression, and her heart sank, like a rock had been tied round it and tossed into the ocean, fast and deep.

"Lily," the dark haired, dark eyed wizard said, gaze narrowed and breath reeking of expensive liquor. "I think we need to have a little talk, sweetheart," he said, and Lily's throat closed as disappointment flooded her.

Blaise wasn't there to make good on his promise, he was there to demand answers, no doubt stirred up from that Godric fucking forsaken article. She was almost certain her heart was broken irreparably, because now it would come. The oh so loathsome goodbye that she couldn't accept and didn't want to hear. "I don't-" she whispered, but then Blaise was walking past her, into her flat, and she couldn't bring herself to tell him to get out. She closed the door gently, hesitating before turning around.

Blaise paced up and down before her fireplace, looking equally hurt and livid to Lily, and she knew she had to tread with caution, lest he unleash his fearsome temper on her. She'd had that happen once, and she certainly wasn't looking forward to having it again. Not when she was positive she knew what was coming.

"How many people knew about us?" Blaise suddenly demanded, pausing in his pacing, glaring almost menacingly at her. Lily gulped, and opened her mouth to answer truthfully, then paused to think and double check. "How many people knew we were fucking and that you were way more than my bloody assistant?" he snarled when the redhead hesitated.

Lily licked her lips. "Five," she whispered, and then bit her lower lip. She had the distinct feeling James had, despite her not saying a word to suggest it was true, come to the conclusion she was fucking and had fallen for Blaise Zabini also, but she pointedly didn't want to think about that, certain he'd confirmed it to that little bitch Edwards who'd made sure she got evidence to support it.

Blaise's dark brows rose on his swarthy face. "Five," he repeated, looking speculative. Lily gulped, knowing she should've told Blaise ages ago, before they'd shared their deepest and darkest secrets with one another, and certainly before their current conversation. "That's almost funny, because I can only think of three people who know, personally," the dark skinned pureblood said too calmly, voice ice cold. The redheaded witch flushed and looked down as Blaise glared at her. "Five," he said again, and the redhead cringed.

"Yes," she whispered into the heavy, tense silence. "My…" Lily gulped again, trying to compose herself as she longed to dissolve into tears, feeling an inch tall. "My brother Albus figured it out a while ago, and obviously told his boyfriend Scorpius, so-"

"Scorpius Malfoy?" Blaise pushed, looking impossibly more furious.

Lily licked her lips. "They sort of already figured it out," she whispered, and Blaise scoffed loudly, turning away, pacing restlessly before her fireplace again.

"Of course, because I don't doubt Draco mentioned you being in my condo when he Flooed," the dark wizard growled sarcastically.

When Lily didn't say anything, he paused in his pacing to look at her, staring hard, trying to discern why she looked sheepish and uncomfortable, this witch that he wanted more than anything. "Well, you see, the thing is… Er, well," Lily hedged, and Blaise felt his patience evaporate. He took a menacing step toward her, and Lily squeaked, "They knew before that." For a long moment, Blaise could only stare. "I wanted to tell you," Lily said, her lower lip quivering even as she clenched her jaw valiantly. "I tried a bunch of times, I swear," she said, looking almost frantic now. "But it just…" Blaise felt something in his chest tug uncomfortably, making some other part of him ache, deep within, as Lily's tears finally spilled down her cheeks. "But it just never seemed like a good time," Lily finally croaked, then closed her eyes, shoulders wracking as if she'd done something far worse than keep a secret from him. The dark haired wizard tried to swallow past the ache in his chest, but still it remained, and he moved toward the redheaded witch, trying with failing results to resist pulling her into his embrace, hating to see her cry.

"I'm putting money on the leak being Malfoy," Blaise growled, even as he, greedily, pulled Lily flush to his front. She sighed and melted into him, perfectly soft and all woman against him, her breath against his neck calming some of the roiling anxiety that had been plaguing Blaise all day. "Junior," he added when Lily nodded.

The redhead pulled back, away from his neck. "No," she said, with firm conviction, as if she could provide an airtight alibi for the Malfoy heir that evening.

Blaise's brows lifted. "Who else could it be?" he demanded. "Unless you think your brother-?"

"Albus wouldn't do that to me," she said, glaring at her boss turned lover now. "And," she added when Blaise gave her an expectant look, as if wondering who else it could be, "he wouldn't let Scorpius do that either."

Blaise barely refrained from rolling his eyes at her naive trust in not only her family upholding her honor, but even a wizard who wasn't even married into it. Especially when she herself claimed that she'd never truly felt she was fully part of the Potter family dynamic. "Well I can personally assure you Draco Malfoy is not responsible either," he said when Lily pulled further from his embrace to cross her arms, her face mirroring his from a moment ago. Blaise simply shrugged. "If Draco were responsible, I can assure you, it would not only benefit him in some way, but he'd be far less inclined to visit me directly thereafter," Blaise said easily, then smirked a tiny bit. "Not to mention, whenever he did show his pointy ferret face, he'd undoubtedly be a helluva lot smugger about it."

Lily frowned. "But you can't really be sure-" she began, but Blaise cut her off, kissing her hungrily, not even wanting to think about the whole damn reason he'd shown up at her place, save his promise to find her and take her to bed from Saturday afternoon.

"I can, and am, Lily," he said after breaking away. "So the question is, either someone else riddled it out somehow, or we were followed from the Society gala, and who would that be?"

"I don't think we were followed," Lily said, unable to hold Blaise's gaze, knowing she should tell him what she thought was the truth, about her other brother, the one who apparently would, and had, done something so traitorous against her heart.

"Who else knows?" Blaise demanded in the tone normally reserved for much more intimate questions, and Lily had to bite her lower lip to hold in a whimper, because the dark haired wizard was still holding her close, mouth teasing up the side of her neck, and she, selfishly, wanted to hold onto that feeling forever. "I can tell you have a theory. Go on, then."

"I," Lily began, voice rocky with mingled shame and arousal, hating how badly she still wanted Blaise, naked and over her, owning her flesh and pushing her body to nirvana. "I think, or, well, I'm pretty sure at least, that, well…" She forced herself to say the words, even as she clenched her eyes shut. "My other brother probably figured it out, too, and he just so happens to be...well, maybe not dating, but seeing the, um…" Again Lily had to pause, bracing herself for the worst possible reaction from Blaise. "My brother's sort of seeing the witch who wrote the whole article that ran in the Prophet."

For a long beat after Lily choked out the words she knew would seal her fate with Blaise, there was nothing. No changes in the way Blaise held her still, or his breathing, or anything to indicate his displeasure. Only silence. She opened her eyes, staring straight down at her lover's shoes, then risked a glance up at Blaise's dark, entrancing eyes.

It was then that Blaise himself, seemingly braced for the worst, finally reacted, and the redheaded witch swallowed thickly when he dropped his arms from her, stepping back, leaving her feeling bereft. "And when were you planning to tell me?" Blaise demanded, and Lily couldn't keep looking at him, the hurt flashing in his eyes, the betrayal all over his face, and worst of all, the tiny sneer as if he was now repulsed by her. She heard him take two steps closer, both hands wrapping gently around her upper arms. "Look at me."

She peeked up, trying to resist the urge to dissolve into tears, forcing herself through sheer stubborn will not to cry again. "I… Fuck, I'm sorry, Blaise, I didn't think anything would ever come of it, and I didn't-"

"Did you plan this?" he demanded, face hard now, eyes as cold and uninviting as she'd ever seen them, making her heart clench painfully. There was a sharp stabbing, inside her chest, that she was almost certain felt like her heart cracking, and the redhead gasped at the pain, even as Blaise looked at her with revulsion. "Was it your intention, all along, to be able to sell your soul to the media for the chance at being Britain's Most Eligible Potioneer's fuck of the month?"

Lily could only stare in horror as Blaise's face grew almost inhuman, demented with rage.

She cringed again, this time in real fear, as Blaise's full upper lip curled up again in a haughty, entirely pureblooded way as he glared at her with outright loathing, and she almost braced to be spat upon. "Or did the thought occur afterward, pet, to sell your story as a passably fuckable witch and acceptable assistant in the lab, just for fifteen minutes of fame?"

Before Lily could stop herself, as that last comment hit home, right into the secret fear she'd always held, that Blaise didn't actually accept her as a real potioneer, or challenger to his position as the very best in their field someday, and had only ever seen her as a convenient lay, the redhead's temper ran away from her. "You sonofabitch," she snarled, and before fear could override her and common sense could halt her actions, Lily slapped the handsome, dark haired and dark eyed wizard hard across the cheek with her entire palm.

In the next breath, Lily bit her tongue on an apology an braced for the worst. She wasn't even sure, anymore, what that might be. She didn't expect the hot burn of Blaise's very dark, certainly black gaze pinning her as the wizard sucked in a long, slow breath. "Lily," he said darkly, and the redhead almost quivered. Instead, she tried to force herself to be brave, even when she knew it was foolish.

"What?" she growled.

Dark eyes narrowed, and even on Blaise's dark skin, the mark was already beginning to show from her slapping him, and Lily's stomach clenched uncomfortably. "I'll let you have that one," her lover said darkly, and the redhead gulped silently. "But I can promise you if you ever strike me again, you'll get it back tenfold," he promised in the very rough, almost bedroom voice she'd committed to memory. "And I can promise you won't enjoy it, pet," he added in a deadly whisper, and Lily nodded, mostly out of habit, because she was trying to stop her damnable heart from loving the fucking wizard anyway. "But as of right now, the only thing you are to me is my assistant and occasional lab partner," the pureblood continued briskly, "and, as such, I wish to remind you, yet again, we are nothing."

Lily felt her mouth part, heart broken beyond repair she was certain, if the sharp jolt of pain and unease was an indicator, and she actually blanched. "What…? What does that…?" she mumbled, confused and trying to wrap her mind around a totally foreign, after all these months, concept of not being with Blaise outside work.

"It means that whatever you and I agreed to partake in has now ended, and there will no longer be anything but business between us." The redhead felt the tears sting when Blaise looked at her, face clear of emotion and voice bland and impartial as he said, yet again, "And outside business, we're, you and I together, nothing, Lily."

For a long beat the redhead could only gape and stare back at the wizard she'd all but admitted aloud to witnesses she loved such a short time ago, almost as if she was first seeing him. It had, apparently, all just been a convenience for him the entire time they'd been together, considering he seemed to feel absolutely no emotion on the matter, and Lily tried to hold herself together even as she felt the hot tears start to skid down her cheeks.

"If we're nothing," Lily spat, the smudged tear tracks and mascara around her eyes making Blaise's gut clench uncomfortably, "then fuck you, Blaise. I fucking quit. And you can go fuck yourself," she hissed, turning away before the fresh tears could form. "Now get the fuck out."

Blaise stood there for a beat and Lily turned around, wand drawn, looking furious and hurt and oddly beautiful to the dark haired pureblood nonetheless, and he took a step back when she pointed her weapon at him. "I don't want you to quit," he said in a last ditch effort to hold his life together as best he could, and in the only way he knew was plausible. The only thing he could consider remotely possible for them.

Lily's upper lip curled away from her teeth savagely. "I don't care what you want anymore, Zabini."

The dark wizard began to feel the first pangs of irritation, knowing Lily was obviously hurt, judging by the response he'd gotten when he'd announced his decision to her anyway. But now, with that slap of blatant disrespect by calling him solely by his surname, as if she were his equal or some kind of friend, not his paid assistant or his submissive lover, he felt the urge to retaliate. His dark eyes narrowed calculatingly, and then he smiled cruelly. "I told you from the outset, Lily, that this changes absolutely nothing between us," he sneered, hating himself even as her furious facade crumbled for a beat and he saw the heartbroken, unsure witch beneath.

"You're right," Lily said after a beat, forcing her features to bely her true emotions. "And I still have the right to quit whenever the hell I want. Consider that effective immediately, Zabini," she tossed out, and folded her arms, face flawlessly back to that falsely furious, impassive expression. "Now kindly get out of my flat."

Blaise went to the door, tongue burning to dress her down for talking to him without even the pretence of propriety, or even with that hint of intimate familiarity the syllables of his name came out of her luscious pink lips bearing when she was coming around him. Instead, when he turned to look back at Lily one last selfish, foolish time, he found himself saying, in a rough, too-emotional, and thoroughly unsteady voice, "Seems you've become that diamond after all, Lily." Shining and beautiful, but also hard and cold now.

He stepped through the portal, closing the door gently behind himself, and even as Lily's heart shattered at the sound of someone Disapparating right behind her door, knowing she'd never see Blaise again, she whispered, "Brilliant," before breaking down entirely.

By the time Blaise made it back to his condo, he was vacillating between abject guilt that weighed upon him heavily, seeing Lily's face crumpling when he'd left her, hearing the cruel, harsh words he'd flunc at her spilling from his lips again, and outright fury. She'd lied by omission to him. Withheld the truth that, despite her best efforts, had outed their secret, and then had the damn gall to cry over it!? Infuriating.

A sharp knocking at his front door, which only served to irritate and depress him further, had Blaise shuffling to answer it, intent on telling whichever of his neighbours or whoever had dared to call upon him, at such a late hour no less, precisely how to fuck off. When his gaze landed on a messy black head of hair and a pair of disarmingly green eyes behind wire rimmed spectacles, then shot up automatically to the thin, faded scar on the forehead above said eyes, Blaise's fury died and his guilt shrivelled.

"Harry Potter," he said, forcing himself to smile at the Chosen One. "It's awfully late for a social call," he said, even as he made no effort to invite the other wizard inside, checking his wand in his pocket as he caught sight of Potter clenching his.

"Then I'll skip right to the point, Zabini," Potter said through gritted teeth. Blaise braced himself for the inevitable shouting about how he'd compromised Lily Potter, and vengeance would be the Defeater of Voldemort's for his little girl's honor. He even braced for some sort of Muggle style attack that featured fists and which he wouldn't hesitate to defend himself against using magic, of course, like any respectable wizard. "I don't know what you did to my daughter," Harry said softly, making Blaise flinch at the lack of aggression or apparent volume-increasing anger he'd expected from Potter. "And I don't want to know," he added firmly, making Blaise's mouth, ever so slightly, just in the corner, twitch up with amusement for a traitorous beat, because he'd done everything with this man's daughter. "But if you ever hurt her…" he finished darkly, trailing off ominously, and Blaise felt his guilt come roaring back to life. Once again, the mental image of Lily's face crumpling, the tears sliding effortlessly down her cheeks, the utterly destroyed expression she'd worn when he'd last left her, and the pain he was keeping firmly locked up in his own chest, battered him, making his posture stiffen against it, and his mouth harden.

"Seeing as L- Miss Potter is no longer in my employ, Potter, I can assure you," he said blandly, "I will no longer have any opportunity to, as you put it, 'hurt her'." He put every tool for emotional suppression that he'd learned, not only from his mother, but his other pureblooded friends in his life, and not a single trace of his inner turmoil managed to permeate his tone or his expression.

Potter looked shocked for a beat, even as Blaise bit his tongue against the foolish urge to add that he, too, would be free from being hurt by Lily, whose only crime against him had been her irresistibility. Even though he suspected he'd do it all over again regardless. "Wha-?"

"And I can certainly assure you, Potter," Blaise continued, his face still a mask of bland boredom, not hinting at how he winced and cringed as the words he wanted to spit at this wizard turned to ash in his mouth, and a lie slipped out in its stead. "Lily has also quite made it clear enough on her own that she wishes no further contact whatsoever from me, which I have obviously agreed to. And despite whatever you may think, Potter, I am a wizard of my word."

For a long beat those too green, too searching eyes bored into Blaise's blank mask, threatening to crack it, but the Potter nodded once and looked away. "She's better than you," he said, a final parting shot, and Blaise smirked a little, knowing it was true.

"Of course she is, Potter. She just doesn't believe it yet, but she will."

Harry Potter didn't reply, and turned away, and Blaise closed his door, warding it once again as per habit, and then leaned back against the sturdy wood, letting out a long sigh, feeling his defenses fall in his solitude. Lily had left him, for good undoubtedly if the girl had any brains whatsoever, and Blaise, despite knowing it would happen someday, and telling himself all along he wasn't going to get attached, knew the hollow ache in his chest and the urge to do something utterly self deprecating like actually weep, was because he'd gone and fallen for his redheaded lover and assistant and partner anyway. Even knowing the risks, she'd wormed her way into his very private, somewhat damaged feelings, gotten herself inside his heart, and now she'd ripped herself, and several other vital bits he was sure, free of him. And it fucking hurt.

But Blaise knew, even as he schooled his expression and forced the silly urge to weep aside brusquely, he hadn't the time nor the emotional support for melancholy and sadness, and told himself he would suffice as he had before Lily Potter had ever entered his life, and wouldn't permit himself to do something so stupid as miss her. He had a reputation, after all. And, Blaise decided, an idea that seemed impossible to shake after striking him, he would make good on that by visiting a witch he knew would deliver precisely what he needed. Even if Veronica would only ever be the imposter of his true desires, he didn't think indulging, perhaps just this once after it all, would do any harm.

A week later, after having spent a disgusting amount of gold and far too many hours chasing the past he wanted so badly to recapture, Blaise knew he couldn't keep torturing himself with a Lily who would never be the real deal. And while he suspected Veronica was beginning to pity him, she didn't comment, for which he was grateful, and he told himself as he Flooed out of her little flat it would be the last time. A month after that he was still telling himself it was the last time he'd indulge himself in the fantasy he'd once lived in when he Flooed out of Veronica's flat, but this time, there was a rather bored looking Draco Malfoy waiting for him when he arrived home, drunk and exhausted after a long night of fucking the witch he longed pitifully for and pined after with every bitten back confession of how much he bloody fucking needed her.

"What do you want?" he asked, tossing his robes aside.

Malfoy, who'd helped himself to Blaise's liquor in his absence, merely sipped his scotch and pointed to the Evening Prophet that he'd apparently brought along with his late night visit, and Blaise glared at the picture on the front beneath the headline that made his stomach clench and his chest ache. LILY POTTER: THE NEWEST POTIONS DARLING OR GOLD-DIGGING DOXY? The redheaded beauty, who made headlines last month for a rumoured less-working more-relationship with world famous and notorious playboy Blaise Zabini, was recently photographed in Hogsmeade's newest hotspot Hogwash, with up and coming potioneer Gavin Gartner. The two, who both report they are simply friendly, shared a drink late Friday evening at Hogwash and, though they left separately, sources who wish to remain anonymous can attest plans were definitely made to meet up again. Only time will tell if Lily Potter is simply cozying up to the best in her preferred field of work, or if she's more interested in playing the field for a wizard whose success she can share.

Instantly Blaise's blood ran cold, and he felt something colder than anger burning up his esophagus. It took a beat to realize, as he stared at the picture of Lily smiling and talking, looking utterly respectable and no more than friendly, with Gartner, the icy burn within was, in fact, betrayal. She'd played him, he realized; and so easily it had been done, he reckoned. He permitted that she probably hadn't meant to, because he doubted she was that calculatingly cold, but still, the evidence lay before him. He'd been tempted well and truly and, like a fool, he'd given in to Lily's lure, to his own detriment, and even as he'd been trying to hold onto something that had long since ended, she had moved on. Moved on from him, and what he'd thought meant something between them. After all of it, the good, the bad, and the parts he couldn't think about without a certain level of shame that was presently too much to bear, Lily had simply, without a seeming care if the picture held any semblance of truth, moved on.

And even if she'd done it out of self preservation, Blaise couldn't help but think Lily's blatant and very public statement she was well and truly done with him was the nail in the coffin of his very tumultuous and oftentimes downright unhealthy obsession lately with Veronica. And with it, the sick delight Blaise had for the unique skill she had to portray the witch Blaise couldn't seem to get over. And even though he certainly lamented the loss of what had been, although sometimes a conscience trying part of his life, a decidedly agreeable arrangement on the whole, Blaise knew he could at last put the idea of having Lily to rest. She'd moved on, as it had been made perfectly clear, and Blaise would do the same.

"Scotch?" Draco drawled after a long beat of silence and Blaise snorted.

"Of course, Draco," he said. "It's a celebratory kind of night, isn't it?" he asked, unable to help a tiny bit of his inner bitterness seeping into the words. "You get to say you told me so, after all."

Draco merely shook his head. "I may have told you so, but you've finally gotten burned, Zabini," he said easily. "So I reckon that's enough reminder that you fucked up." He sipped his drink then smirked. "For now at least," he qualified, and dark eyes rolled.

Blaise nodded, appreciating not just the sentiment, as harsh as it seemed, but also the matter of fact tone Malfoy used, making him certain this was less pity and more a polite show of support in Blaise's own ability to not be pathetic any longer. Which he could do, most definitely. Even if the memory of Lily Potter haunted him into eternity, he could most definitely stop being such a pathetic excuse for a wizard, pining over a witch who no longer, obviously, felt a thing for him.

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