House: Slytherin

Category: Short 500-2000 words

Prompt: [Romantic Pairing] Non-canon pairing of your choice.

Word Count: 1195

A/N: for my Princess Sofia! I know I'm late — I promised this as a Winter Challenge — but hey, better late than never! And thanks for the help :)

oO0Oo

He stood in the shadows, watching. His ridiculous date stood beside him, pouting and plucking at the corsage on her wrist. "Blaise, you promised that we'd dance!"

He scowled. He couldn't remember why he'd chosen this girl, Daphne's younger sister — all he knew was that in a spat of anger after he'd heard that Ginerva Weasley accepted the oaf Longbottom's invitation, going to the Yule Ball with her had seemed like a fantastic idea. "Blaise, come on!" she repeated. Her words sounded far too much like a whine. He loathed helpless, weak women; he wanted someone with fire, someone who drew the attention of the entire room. Someone like Ginerva Weasley.

But little Ginny had accepted Longbottom's invitation, and now he was stuck with this tart. Sighing to himself, Blaise took his date's hand and led her out onto the dance floor. Adopting the manners drilled into him by his third step-father, a pureblood elitist whom Blaise had been glad to see suffer an "unfortunate incident", he said, "May I have this dance, Miss Greengrass?"

She simpered, batting her lashes up at him. "Of course, Blaise dearest," she cooed. At the endearment, his stomach sickened, but he forced a pleasant smile on his face and began the waltz.

He knew he was supposed to be showering attention upon his partner. Waltzes were slow and soft to allow couples to interact privately; however, Blaise couldn't bring himself to care. Throughout the dance, he kept craning his neck to keep a certain redhead in sight. Ginny had drawn his attention from the very start of the ball, when she made her entrance on Longbottom's arm — her beautiful mint green gown complimented her hair perfectly and showed far too much of her smooth, creamy skin to be entirely within dress code… not that he cared, of course. He just didn't like the effort she had gone through for Longbottom.

Or maybe not for Longbottom. As he watched, she and Longbottom stopped dancing and began walking towards where Potter and her brother stood. Did she really still have that puerile crush on Potter? His curiosity piqued, he stopped dancing, too busy watching her try to exchange a few words with Potter, only for the boy to be called away.

"Blaise, dearest?" his date whispered, looking up at him with worry in her eyes. "Are you okay? If you want fresh air, we could go outside…"

"No, I'm fine," he answered. "I just need more punch." With that he strode away, leaving her alone on the dance floor, too focused on finding one Ginerva Weasley to care. If Potter and Longbottom weren't man enough to show her the attention she deserved, then he would do it.

"Hello Ginerva," he said smoothly, taking her elbow and drawing her away from the dance floor. "Would you like to take a walk outdoors?"

She twisted in his grasp,her expression changing from surprise to confusion to disgust. "Get your hands off me," she hissed, clearly unwilling to cause a scene… yet.

"Come on Ginny, don't be like that," he cajoled. "I don't like my date. You don't like yours. And it's a beautiful night, though not as beautiful as you." She flushed at the compliment, and Blaise smirked inwardly. "We should spend some time together."

She scrunched her brow, as if thinking about it, then said, "I guess it's pretty safe out here. But why me?"

"Because you, Ginerva, are fire," he answered honestly, staring at the red and gold tints of her hair which sparkled in the fairy lights, casting an orange-yellow halo about her head. "You are fire, and I'm not afraid of getting burned."

"Well, when you put it like that," she said, blushing and preening a little under his gaze, "I think I'd quite like to sit with you." She plopped down, her beautiful gown ballooning around her, and before Blaise joined her, he took a moment to appreciate the sight she made, sitting there on the low stone bench waiting to talk with him.

They talked for hours, making trivial, light-hearted conversation, learning about one another nonetheless. They weren't interrupted, either, although that was no coincidence — when Ginerva wasn't looking, Blaise cast subtle privacy spells around their tiny alcove. The only one who saw the two of them sitting there was Professor Snape, and to Blaise's surprise, the Professor did not chastise him; rather, he peeled back the spells, blinked, then recast the privacy charms, even adding some powerful ones Blaise had never seen before. Then he continued on his way.

Shortly afterwards, the clock struck midnight. At the chime, Ginny looked up. "Where did all that time go?"

"I don't know," Blaise answered. Putting an arm around her shoulder, he drew her close, inhaling the sweet scent of the gardenias which laced her hair, and directed her gaze to the sky over the Black Lake. "But I had a wonderful time."

A faint blush arose in her cheeks. "I did too," she admitted, leaning onto his chest and looking up at him. Blaise felt his throat constrict, and he leaned closer to her, barely daring to believe the moment was real…

The moment their lips meant, a firework exploded over the Black Lake, perfectly mimicking the fire that ignited in Blaise's heart. He had never felt such strong emotions tugging at his heart and begging to burst free. "Ginny," he breathed. Their kiss under the stars had been perfection. He felt… complete.

"Blaise," she whispered. They sat in silence, staring at one another. Blaise didn't ever want that magical moment to disappear… Ginerva Weasley had just kissed him! In the morning, he might regret his reckless actions, but for the time being, he luxuriated in the knowledge that his affection wasn't entirely unrequited… and then Potter walked by. Immediately Ginny straightened, flushing. "I shouldn't be here— I should go—" she stammered, and then she was gone before he had the chance to say so much as a word.

It took Blaise a few moments to gather himself, to regain his facade of cool indifference. When he did, he got to his feet and slowly made his way back to the Common Room. As he walked, he vaguely thought he heard the click-clack of his date's footsteps running after him, but as if he was underwater, everything was muffled and he felt slightly numb. Ignoring his Housemates' jeers and comments asking him where he'd been, he made his way straight to his room, where he pulled the curtains around his four-poster bed before casting a silencing charm on it. That night, he fell asleep dreaming of what could have been, had Potter not walked by.

The next morning, he cleared all thoughts of Ginevra Weasley from his mind. After all, there was a war brewing, and they were on opposing sides. He could not afford another mistake, another distraction. It could destroy him.

Nevertheless, he knew he would never forget their magical kiss under the stars, the way her hair had sparkled like fire in the faery-lights, and how the fireworks had exploded above them, as brief and beautiful as their relationship.