Author's Notes- Again, many thanks to my reviewers, especially Demia and
Cho. I was seriously considering abandoning this because it didn't look as
though anyone was particularly interested.
Disclaimers- Haven't bought the characters since my last disclaimer. Still only own the plot.
Warnings- Fairly mild slash sex scene coming up. It's not really explicit and sex IS allowed on R ratings, but if you can't handle it, please turn back now. I haven't under rated this fic at all.
I was shaking. I stood there for almost an hour. It began to rain, icy water sluicing over my shivering form. Tears came at last, but they were no warmer than the rain itself. Blaise hated me. I hated him for what he had done. To me, and to himself. I walked slowly to where he usually sat when he waited for me in the tower and slowly lowered myself to the ground where he usually was. I hoped to feel his ghost, a tracing of his presence left there from all the times he had visited. Nothing at all. I couldn't feel the faintest hint of his thoughts from the space his weird, deranged brain had occupied. Perhaps if I sat there long enough, I'd begin to read the ghostly patterns left in the air from his thoughts and read into his iced- over soul. Perhaps I could feel the path of his very dreams and the chemical reactions that made up his world. Perhaps. I shook my head and stood unsteadily. I couldn't sit here like this.
I went to the common room. Alone again, naturally. There was the seat Ginny had occupied waiting for me. Now I knew how bitter the rejection must have been for her. At least I hadn't enjoyed seeing her pain as Blaise had enjoyed mine.
So what was there left now? Blaise didn't believe my promises, or perhaps he was happy the way he was. Maybe I should never have swept in with my elabourate ideas of healing him or having a proper relationship. Maybe I should have fucked him and left, instead of falling in love. I stared moodily into the fire. A bitter, cold kind of rage was beginning to replace sadness. I preferred it. Better to learn to hate someone than to hate yourself for not being able to save them. Maybe I should leave it. Blaise was too cynical and too far-gone to ever want a relationship. I wasn't a hero. I couldn't save anyone. Perhaps he was even happy in his depraved little world. Perhaps.
I woke the next day with a bitter rage still smouldering. I knew perfectly well once it evaporated I'd feel lower than ever. But this was good, it was real, I could direct it instead of wallowing in depression. Again, a day of missed lessons. I went to the forest and wandered all day. No monster approached me- none would have dared. My wand spat greenfire and cleared the forest before me. I imagined Blaise laughing at me again. Perhaps he was curled up with Flint even now, telling him about that stupid Gryffindor that dared to fall in love even as Flint fucked him into the ground.
As evening fell, I headed back to the castle. Ignored my friends. Hermione looked worried. She caught my arm and directed me to a quiet corner of the common room.
"I heard you've left Ginny," She said quietly. There was no judgement in her voice.
"Yeah?" I replied moodily. Ginny looked up as though sensing her name. She smiled tentatively at me, unsure of where she stood. She still stood straight and unbowed, like the survivor of a war. Bruised, but not broken.
"And you're with Blaise," She continued. "Harry.. something's wrong. Are you.. regretting it?"
"No!" I snapped, then softened upon seeing the hurt look in her eyes. "I knew it was over between me and Ginny," I hastily explained. "But Blaise.. he lead me on, we were getting so close.. and then he just turned on me. Hermione, he enjoyed every bit of it,"
She frowned. Her intelligent eyes glowed gold and chestnut in the light.
"Maybe he's scared," She offered. "From what I've heard from Malka, he certainly sounds like he has issues with relationships and self-esteem. Please, try again. I think he does want to be with you.."
"Hermione, you have no idea," I replied sharply. "I offered to give up *everything*, everything for him. And he threw it all back in my face. I've gave him all I could. There's nothing else to do.."
"Harry-" Hermione looked concerned but I ignored it.
"I'm going to bed," I growled and swung away from her, clattering noisily up into the dark dormitory.
I lay in the dark for hours, still fuming over Blaise. I didn't want to lose touch with this anger, knowing what lay beneath. At last I pulled myself from bed and wrapped myself in the invisibility cloak. I knew where Blaise liked to wander at night. At this point I was unsure whether I wanted to hit him, tell him to fuck off, or have rampant sex over Dumebledore's desk. If only I'd stayed at the dormitories, maybe it wouldn't have all gone so horribly wrong.
I stormed into the dark classroom Blaise often lurked at night. He'd sat there sometimes after a quick fuck, cigarette smoke wreathing him in blue whirls. I wanted to find him.. hurt him.. even though I couldn't possibly hurt him a tenth as much as he could hurt me with a few crushing words.
He wasn't there. I stared into the shadows, shook my head and turned to leave.
Just as Flint entered with Blaise's dark head resting on his shoulder.
Shit. I stepped backwards as quietly as I could as he seemed to come right towards me. I sank against the wall and tried to control my feverish breathing. I had to get out of here. But as I stood, Flint muttered a quick locking charm and the door was sealed.
I didn't want to stay. I didn't want to see Blaise like this. I didn't want any fragile delusions I'd spun of him loving me to disintegrate. But there was *no* way out. A sickening sense of nausea swept through me as I leaned heavily against the wall. The door was sealed. I could not very well ask Flint to unlock it- I knew what his reaction would be upon learning I had came here to see Blaise. I could not Apparate, there was no other escape that I could see. Whatever was to come.. I would witness. And I knew there would be no way I could simply close my eyes and turn away. The Boy Who Lived is still a boy, whatever people may think.
Flint lit a handful of candles with a careless wave of his wand. They sputtered into cool silvery light, a light that suited Blaise admirably as it flooded the room and washed over his pale, luminous skin. His eyes were kohl-lined pools, absolute fathomless. He slid from under Flint's arm and gently pushed the older student towards a table. As Flint sat down obediently, I watched Blaise climb up onto his lap slowly. Two large hands slid around his tiny waist as they kissed briefly, one demanding, one willing. A tiny strangled sound escaped me as I saw Flint nuzzle Blaise's pale neck, then a trickle of blood as he bit down. This was what Blaise wanted, and what I could not give him?
Flint wrapped his hands around the smaller boy and lifted him onto the table. "Undress," He grunted. Blaise slid his robes from one thin shoulder, let them fall casually to the floor. Nothing beneath. He was so thin.. even in our most amorous meetings I had never realised just how tiny he was beneath his robes. And now Flint was undressing, and there couldn't be a greater contrast. Even I, with my toned build and not inconsiderable height could dwarf Blaise. Flint was over 6ft3, bronzed skin rippling with muscles. He could crush the smaller student with ease. I tried to pull my eyes away from the scene, but I felt strangely compelled to watch, disgusted with myself all the time.
I watched as Flint pushed Blaise down onto the smooth table. He seemed almost doll-like, limbs bending obediently as Flint's large hands roamed over him. Exquisite long legs moving aside as Flint nudged them open and licked a wet trail over his thin torso. I watched as one hand quested lower and Blaise's lips parted slightly as one thick finger twisted inside him. I couldn't help myself as I approached the pair of them, lying posed over the table like some dreadful tableau.
Flint evidently decided that was quite enough preparation as he entered Blaise with a force that made me wince. There was a soft cry from Blaise, stifled hastily. Even for someone as used to this treatment as he, that had to hurt. I longed to stroke his soft feathery hair, to kiss away the faint look of pain as Flint vented his lust. But there was nothing I could do, even as Flint drove his slender body into the table with his intensity. I watched purple bruises begin to blossom on Blaise's shoulders from the older student's rough grip, watched Flint tighten his hands around Blaise's blood spattered neck and press down until he choked and writhed under the huge boy. He seemed to stare right through me as he twisted away from the suffocatingly tight hold, gasping for air, and I stepped back instinctively. There was a faint look of panic in his black eyes. I had never understood people who found auto-erotic asphyxiation a turn-on. Depriving your partner of oxygen, deliberate infliction of pain.. I watched as at last the relentless hold released as Flint came, hard and long. Blaise's hair whipped over his face as he turned away, breathing painfully. I could see a faint pattern of fingermarks across his skin, faintly purple in the silvery light. Flint pulled away and was already dragging his robes on. As his breathing regulated, I was amazed to see a faint smile play over Blaise's lips.
Flint left. I watched Blaise dress himself slowly and sit quietly on the table where he had been fucked so mercilessly before. Was that what he wanted? I couldn't stop myself.
I threw the robe from me and watched shock register as he realised I must have been there all along.
"Potter, you fucking *pervert*-" He began. Violet swirls danced in his eyes, bruise-purple. Perhaps he had the right to be angry. But so did I.
I didn't let him finish. "You fucking *whore*," I snarled. "I came here to talk to you, and I didn't have a fucking chance about what I saw. After everything you said to me, did you really think I'd just let it go? You're beyond pathetic, Blaise, you'll give it away to anyone for free. You were right. You *are* a cheap little slut and I never should have tried to convince you otherwise. That's all you ever be and all you ever will be," I watched his impassive face register shock as I spat venom. His eyes were huge, dark, scared.
"You called me a fool for giving up the best thing that ever happened to me, but at the same time *you* turned down the best thing that could have ever happened to you. But I suppose I should thank you for showing me what you really are. You know what, Blaise? I don't want a cheap fucktoy that's been passed around every House before me. I don't think I want you at all. No-one really does,"
I paused. He looked drained. I was actually having an effect. To see him hurt for once was a balm to my rage. I smiled as coldly as I could.
"You're worthless,"
He jumped up from the table and I waited for him to.. what? Retaliate? Hit me? Instead, he span around and took off in a whirl of light and shadows. I listened to his footsteps fade into the distance and felt the sudden spurt of anger drain from me.
God, what had I done?
Disclaimers- Haven't bought the characters since my last disclaimer. Still only own the plot.
Warnings- Fairly mild slash sex scene coming up. It's not really explicit and sex IS allowed on R ratings, but if you can't handle it, please turn back now. I haven't under rated this fic at all.
I was shaking. I stood there for almost an hour. It began to rain, icy water sluicing over my shivering form. Tears came at last, but they were no warmer than the rain itself. Blaise hated me. I hated him for what he had done. To me, and to himself. I walked slowly to where he usually sat when he waited for me in the tower and slowly lowered myself to the ground where he usually was. I hoped to feel his ghost, a tracing of his presence left there from all the times he had visited. Nothing at all. I couldn't feel the faintest hint of his thoughts from the space his weird, deranged brain had occupied. Perhaps if I sat there long enough, I'd begin to read the ghostly patterns left in the air from his thoughts and read into his iced- over soul. Perhaps I could feel the path of his very dreams and the chemical reactions that made up his world. Perhaps. I shook my head and stood unsteadily. I couldn't sit here like this.
I went to the common room. Alone again, naturally. There was the seat Ginny had occupied waiting for me. Now I knew how bitter the rejection must have been for her. At least I hadn't enjoyed seeing her pain as Blaise had enjoyed mine.
So what was there left now? Blaise didn't believe my promises, or perhaps he was happy the way he was. Maybe I should never have swept in with my elabourate ideas of healing him or having a proper relationship. Maybe I should have fucked him and left, instead of falling in love. I stared moodily into the fire. A bitter, cold kind of rage was beginning to replace sadness. I preferred it. Better to learn to hate someone than to hate yourself for not being able to save them. Maybe I should leave it. Blaise was too cynical and too far-gone to ever want a relationship. I wasn't a hero. I couldn't save anyone. Perhaps he was even happy in his depraved little world. Perhaps.
I woke the next day with a bitter rage still smouldering. I knew perfectly well once it evaporated I'd feel lower than ever. But this was good, it was real, I could direct it instead of wallowing in depression. Again, a day of missed lessons. I went to the forest and wandered all day. No monster approached me- none would have dared. My wand spat greenfire and cleared the forest before me. I imagined Blaise laughing at me again. Perhaps he was curled up with Flint even now, telling him about that stupid Gryffindor that dared to fall in love even as Flint fucked him into the ground.
As evening fell, I headed back to the castle. Ignored my friends. Hermione looked worried. She caught my arm and directed me to a quiet corner of the common room.
"I heard you've left Ginny," She said quietly. There was no judgement in her voice.
"Yeah?" I replied moodily. Ginny looked up as though sensing her name. She smiled tentatively at me, unsure of where she stood. She still stood straight and unbowed, like the survivor of a war. Bruised, but not broken.
"And you're with Blaise," She continued. "Harry.. something's wrong. Are you.. regretting it?"
"No!" I snapped, then softened upon seeing the hurt look in her eyes. "I knew it was over between me and Ginny," I hastily explained. "But Blaise.. he lead me on, we were getting so close.. and then he just turned on me. Hermione, he enjoyed every bit of it,"
She frowned. Her intelligent eyes glowed gold and chestnut in the light.
"Maybe he's scared," She offered. "From what I've heard from Malka, he certainly sounds like he has issues with relationships and self-esteem. Please, try again. I think he does want to be with you.."
"Hermione, you have no idea," I replied sharply. "I offered to give up *everything*, everything for him. And he threw it all back in my face. I've gave him all I could. There's nothing else to do.."
"Harry-" Hermione looked concerned but I ignored it.
"I'm going to bed," I growled and swung away from her, clattering noisily up into the dark dormitory.
I lay in the dark for hours, still fuming over Blaise. I didn't want to lose touch with this anger, knowing what lay beneath. At last I pulled myself from bed and wrapped myself in the invisibility cloak. I knew where Blaise liked to wander at night. At this point I was unsure whether I wanted to hit him, tell him to fuck off, or have rampant sex over Dumebledore's desk. If only I'd stayed at the dormitories, maybe it wouldn't have all gone so horribly wrong.
I stormed into the dark classroom Blaise often lurked at night. He'd sat there sometimes after a quick fuck, cigarette smoke wreathing him in blue whirls. I wanted to find him.. hurt him.. even though I couldn't possibly hurt him a tenth as much as he could hurt me with a few crushing words.
He wasn't there. I stared into the shadows, shook my head and turned to leave.
Just as Flint entered with Blaise's dark head resting on his shoulder.
Shit. I stepped backwards as quietly as I could as he seemed to come right towards me. I sank against the wall and tried to control my feverish breathing. I had to get out of here. But as I stood, Flint muttered a quick locking charm and the door was sealed.
I didn't want to stay. I didn't want to see Blaise like this. I didn't want any fragile delusions I'd spun of him loving me to disintegrate. But there was *no* way out. A sickening sense of nausea swept through me as I leaned heavily against the wall. The door was sealed. I could not very well ask Flint to unlock it- I knew what his reaction would be upon learning I had came here to see Blaise. I could not Apparate, there was no other escape that I could see. Whatever was to come.. I would witness. And I knew there would be no way I could simply close my eyes and turn away. The Boy Who Lived is still a boy, whatever people may think.
Flint lit a handful of candles with a careless wave of his wand. They sputtered into cool silvery light, a light that suited Blaise admirably as it flooded the room and washed over his pale, luminous skin. His eyes were kohl-lined pools, absolute fathomless. He slid from under Flint's arm and gently pushed the older student towards a table. As Flint sat down obediently, I watched Blaise climb up onto his lap slowly. Two large hands slid around his tiny waist as they kissed briefly, one demanding, one willing. A tiny strangled sound escaped me as I saw Flint nuzzle Blaise's pale neck, then a trickle of blood as he bit down. This was what Blaise wanted, and what I could not give him?
Flint wrapped his hands around the smaller boy and lifted him onto the table. "Undress," He grunted. Blaise slid his robes from one thin shoulder, let them fall casually to the floor. Nothing beneath. He was so thin.. even in our most amorous meetings I had never realised just how tiny he was beneath his robes. And now Flint was undressing, and there couldn't be a greater contrast. Even I, with my toned build and not inconsiderable height could dwarf Blaise. Flint was over 6ft3, bronzed skin rippling with muscles. He could crush the smaller student with ease. I tried to pull my eyes away from the scene, but I felt strangely compelled to watch, disgusted with myself all the time.
I watched as Flint pushed Blaise down onto the smooth table. He seemed almost doll-like, limbs bending obediently as Flint's large hands roamed over him. Exquisite long legs moving aside as Flint nudged them open and licked a wet trail over his thin torso. I watched as one hand quested lower and Blaise's lips parted slightly as one thick finger twisted inside him. I couldn't help myself as I approached the pair of them, lying posed over the table like some dreadful tableau.
Flint evidently decided that was quite enough preparation as he entered Blaise with a force that made me wince. There was a soft cry from Blaise, stifled hastily. Even for someone as used to this treatment as he, that had to hurt. I longed to stroke his soft feathery hair, to kiss away the faint look of pain as Flint vented his lust. But there was nothing I could do, even as Flint drove his slender body into the table with his intensity. I watched purple bruises begin to blossom on Blaise's shoulders from the older student's rough grip, watched Flint tighten his hands around Blaise's blood spattered neck and press down until he choked and writhed under the huge boy. He seemed to stare right through me as he twisted away from the suffocatingly tight hold, gasping for air, and I stepped back instinctively. There was a faint look of panic in his black eyes. I had never understood people who found auto-erotic asphyxiation a turn-on. Depriving your partner of oxygen, deliberate infliction of pain.. I watched as at last the relentless hold released as Flint came, hard and long. Blaise's hair whipped over his face as he turned away, breathing painfully. I could see a faint pattern of fingermarks across his skin, faintly purple in the silvery light. Flint pulled away and was already dragging his robes on. As his breathing regulated, I was amazed to see a faint smile play over Blaise's lips.
Flint left. I watched Blaise dress himself slowly and sit quietly on the table where he had been fucked so mercilessly before. Was that what he wanted? I couldn't stop myself.
I threw the robe from me and watched shock register as he realised I must have been there all along.
"Potter, you fucking *pervert*-" He began. Violet swirls danced in his eyes, bruise-purple. Perhaps he had the right to be angry. But so did I.
I didn't let him finish. "You fucking *whore*," I snarled. "I came here to talk to you, and I didn't have a fucking chance about what I saw. After everything you said to me, did you really think I'd just let it go? You're beyond pathetic, Blaise, you'll give it away to anyone for free. You were right. You *are* a cheap little slut and I never should have tried to convince you otherwise. That's all you ever be and all you ever will be," I watched his impassive face register shock as I spat venom. His eyes were huge, dark, scared.
"You called me a fool for giving up the best thing that ever happened to me, but at the same time *you* turned down the best thing that could have ever happened to you. But I suppose I should thank you for showing me what you really are. You know what, Blaise? I don't want a cheap fucktoy that's been passed around every House before me. I don't think I want you at all. No-one really does,"
I paused. He looked drained. I was actually having an effect. To see him hurt for once was a balm to my rage. I smiled as coldly as I could.
"You're worthless,"
He jumped up from the table and I waited for him to.. what? Retaliate? Hit me? Instead, he span around and took off in a whirl of light and shadows. I listened to his footsteps fade into the distance and felt the sudden spurt of anger drain from me.
God, what had I done?