A/N: I just had an epiphany...you should really try drinking coffee late in
the afternoon, like, around 5-6pm. For college students like me, I
guarantee you at least 9 hours of hyperactivity. You won't even yawn. I had
stayed up till 3am working on this chapter because I suddenly had so many
ideas and I still wasn't the least bit sleepy. I really recommend drinking
Nescafé (with good reason) if you're an insomniac-slash-depressive like me.
Anyway...
CHAPTER 13:
"I could hit you right now, Harry," Ron muttered darkly, clenching his fists at his sides and standing rigidly as Harry got to his feet. He had his sheets wrapped around his lower body as he walked over to face his best friend.
"I could beat you to a bloody pulp and feel absolutely no remorse for it, you know I can, don't you?" he continued, his blue eyes darkening to a deep violet color. "And I could do it all without my wand - strangling you with my bare hands would probably be more satisfying than the Killing Curse."
Harry didn't respond, but stood as rigid as Ron was. If Ron were to raise his wand right now and yell, "Avada Kedavra!" he knew he deserved it. He had let himself be overcome by a moment of weakness that he knew would cost him dearly.
*Flashback*
/Nothing happened between them.../ Harry's mind kept repeating. /David's gay.../
/She broke off her engagement.../
/You also accused her of being a slut./
He didn't mean to say it. Certainly not to her face, but he couldn't help himself. He had to lash out at her for making him feel terrible. For making his heart ache for her so much, knowing that sge could never be his. It seemed like the perfect revenge at the time. After all, should he be the onle one to suffer?
But her utter sadness, confusion and anger as she whispered, "I'm not a slut," tore right through his hatred. She sounded genuinely hurt by what he had said - but wasn't that the goal? To hurt her as much as she had hurt him?
When she slapped him, Harry felt his anger ebb despite himself. And when she ran off, telling him to stay out of her life, his mind spinned with blurred thoughts and echoes of her voice. He knew he had just made a terrible mistake, but he stayed rooted to to his spot at the Pitch, finding himself unable to follow her or to even move or breathe properly - at least, until the previously out-of-sight Bludgers reappeared again and hit his back simultaneously.
***
"Where am I?" he mumbled, gingerly opening his eyes and taking in his surroundings. He tried to sit up but his back felt so bruised and on fire that he lay back down again.
"Don't try to move," a female voice said sweetly, placing a damp towel on his forehead. "You've been out for quite a while so it's natural you'll still be feeling a little sore."
"Blaise?" he wondered aloud as his brain registered the seductive, dark- haired siren's sultry figure leaning over his bare chest. "Wha -? Where -?"
"You're in your room, Harry. I had to cast a spell on you before I airlifted you onto my broom so I could take you home." She began moving the towel along his neck, then to his chest, the dampness feeling so good on his hot body. "I found you lying face-down on the Pitch as I was doing my evening rounds. You must've been that way for quite a while. You had ants crawling all over your robes, I was afraid you might be dead. Be grateful that it's me who found you and not a deranged Potter-fan or you wouldn't be here with me."
"I - I don't know what to say. Thank you, Blaise," he replied warmly, not noticing (yet) that the damp towel was making its way to a lower destination.
Blaise's violet-blue eyes was drawing him in. "You look so - troubled, Harry."
"Do I?" She nodded, concern apparent in her eyes.
"Well," Harry sighed, recalling the day's events before the twin Bludgers knocked him out. "I just had a fight with Hermione..."
"Granger?" Blaise asked in surprise. " I didn't know she was back."
"Yes, she is. Just last week. She and I - we had a fight today. It's more my fault really..."
"How can it?" she murmured seductively, her fingers snapping off the button on his trousers as he looked on with bated breath.
"Blaise..."
"Just keep telling me what happened, Harry," she purred, sliding a finger down his fly to unzip him, causing her to brush against his manhood. "How can it be your fault?"
"Well, uh, I said some things that I, uh, I didn't really mean," he gasped when Blaise pulled his trousers off. "And she, well, she, um, got mad and slapped me. Blaise, wait..."
"Oh, you poor dear," she purred, caressing his cheek. "Did she hurt you? Why don't I kiss you to make it all better?" She leaned over and planted a wet kiss on the spot she just touched. "Does that make you feel better?" she asked, placing a finger on one of the buttons of her cardigan. In one expert move, she unfastened one button.
"Yeah - " he whispered, watching intently as she plucked another button off its fastener, revealing a delicious valley between her well-endowed breasts.
"Perhaps you're feeling a bit constrained," she suggested, her other fingers sliding their way under the waistband of his boxers. "Would it help if I pulled this away?" And without waiting for an answer, Blaise had removed Harry's underthings and tossed them carelessly onto the floor.
"Blaise..." he moaned, wanting to rip her cardigan open so he could revel in her breasts. But Hermione...
/What about Hermione?/ the angry side of his brain taunted him. /She said she didn't want to speak to you anymore. She told you to stay out of her life./
/I can't,/ the rational part of his brain countered. /I can't let it end like that. I love her./
/Love? What's love, Harry? A ring, a piece of parchment, a nagging wife and a screaming brat to tie you down. There's a beautiful and sexy woman waiting for you to ravage her, Harry. And there's more where she came from.. You're *the* Harry Potter - if Hermione doesn't want you, then it's he loss. Besides, can Hermione do that?/ His attention shifted back to Blaise who was invariably doing a striptease right on top of him.
/Hermione is so sweet and innocent,/ Harry thought. /I can't even imagine her doing that./
/That's right,/ his brain piped up again. /Savor this moment, Harry, and forget about her. Let her wallow in her self-pity. She's got David anyway./
That sealed the deal. Pushing all thoughts of Hermione to the back of his mind, Harry concentrated on the thrills of pleasure Blaise elicited in him as she teased him with her tongue and hands.
He felt her contract heavily as she met him, shifting slightly and gasping audibly as she accommodated his entire length inside her wet warmth. He knew he was a little too big and a tad bit too long for her to handle but Blaise just kept on working him, enjoying the pain of being completely filled by him as she slid against his hard length.
He *was* a bit too big than she'd ever care to admit but consoled herself with the the intense image of him slamming into her forcefully as she gripped his broad shoulders and yelled out his name in pure pleasure. She had wanted Harry ever since Hogwarts. Malfoy had provided her with enough compensation when she was feeling particularly frustrated, but imagined him to be Harry driving into her with so much force it nearly killed her - much to Malfoy's disdain at being thought of as a Harry-substitute. She'd always hated Hermione Granger, Harry's shadow and ultimately the love of his life. They didn't realize it yet but Blaise was very aware of the unsaid tension between them. It was too much for her not to notice, and Blaise prided herself in being very keen. So when Hermione left, she could grab her chance to lure him away. Tonight was her night.
But she had felt someone watching them, the hairs at the back of her neck prickling, and she turned around quickly when a vaguely familiar voice from their Hogwarts years called out, "Ron -!"
Harry had wondered why Blaise stopped her ministrations, as his eyes followed her gaze. Then he saw her - and the look of complete horror and pain etched on her face. The same look he had seen when she saw him kiss Diana by the lake four years ago. And it hurt him to recall that she had run away from him last time.
"Hermione, please. It's not what you think," he pleaded, trying to sit up against Blaise and his sore back. Sexual frustration bedamned! It's Hermione he wants!
She was obviously disgusted to see him in such a position and Harry wished fervently that a Time-Turner would drop out from the sky and into his hands. But Hermione backed away, all the while stammering apologies and explanations as he tried to get Blaise off of him. Fragments of what she was saying entered his brain, the important ones that he's waited so long to hear...
"David's gay, by the way. I broke off our engagement, but you didn't need to know that..."
But he did need to know that, and was glad she told him. That meant that he still had a chance to show her how much he loves her. If only he could just explain his way out of this particular mess...
"Hermione...oh god!" he cried out as he tried to straighten his back too quickly, realizing a little too late that it wasn't at all what she needed to hear.
But she was already gone when he had pried Blaise off him, leaving only an open-mouthed Ron glaring at him by the door.
*End of Flashback*
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you with my bare hands right now," Ron said darkly, his gaze never leaving Harry's.
He looked straight back at his best friend, bracing himself for a blow to the head - or worse, somewhere lower.
"I love Hermione."
Ron's eyes danced furiously for a moment, then considerably lightened to a dark, midnight color. He sighed defeatedly, clenching his hands so tightly his knuckles were turning white. "Damn it, Harry!" he cried in frustration. "Why do you insist on hurting her?"
"I didn't mean for her to see me tonight..." he bagen, but Ron shoved him aside.
"Don't you dare make it seem like it's her fault that she saw you with that...that...Slytherin! Don't you even try because I swear, Harry, I *will* strangle you."
"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled, looking away. "That thing - with Blaise - it's a mistake. I didn't mean for it to happen, and I certainly didn't mean for it to turn out the way it did. It just happened because I was stupid and angry and confused. I was angry at myself because I had hurt Hermione, but I was also angry at her because she's getting married - well, not now. Blaise provided me with what I needed at the right moment. My ego was feeling very battered because she had chosen David over me - because, in my heart, I always believed that I was the only man in her life, besides you, of course. She's...she's the only woman I ever wanted this badly and she didn't seem to want me. But here was someone who..." Harry sighed. "Blaise isn't the issue here anymore. It's me. I'm a daft prick."
"Damn right you are," Ron exclaimed. "How could you even think that she could even try to seduce other men? She may not be as beautiful or as gorgeous as those other girls you used to date, Harry but she's not desperate. She's very beautiful and attractive and smart and funny and loyal - how many women can you say that about? Did you know she tried to charm her hair once so it'll be just like Cho's because that's what she thought *you* wanted? She'd do absolutely anything for you, even pretend to be happy just as long as you're happy - even if it means not being with you. And she does that because she love you. She LOVES you! And you...you're a daft prick." Ron settled on the couch after this, exhausted and spent, his breathing erratic, but thankful because he finally had his say. Harry sat beside hi, only to bury his face in his hands and mumble incoherently.
"What?" Ron asked, looking over at him.
"I said, I really screwed up, didn't I?"
"Yeah, you did." Silence.
"Do you reckon there's a chance for her to take me back?"
Ron shook his head. "I don't know. But I'm just afraid that she might leave us for good this time, and she might not even owl me anymore."
"She can't leave!" Harry cried, sitting up. "She can't...I haven't..."
"She left you once, Harrym without as much as a goodbye. What makes you think she'll stay for this one?"
"She has to. I'll make her stay. I could Apparate in her room and try to reason with her. I could ask Mrs. Granger to let me talk to her..."
"And have her dad kick you out," Ron said. "Face it, Harry, we're both out of it this time. She's successfully avoided you for four years. She might want to put a record on that."
"She can't leave me, Ron," Harry declared, standing up. "Not again. I'll give her everything she wants, everything..."
"She doesn't need anything. She only wants you."
"Are you sure?"
"Honesty's always the best policy, they say. Do you know what you're going to do?" Ron asked after him, as he made his way to his room.
"Not yet. But if I'm going to make Hermione love me again, then I'd have to something drastic fast...and soon."
CHAPTER 13:
"I could hit you right now, Harry," Ron muttered darkly, clenching his fists at his sides and standing rigidly as Harry got to his feet. He had his sheets wrapped around his lower body as he walked over to face his best friend.
"I could beat you to a bloody pulp and feel absolutely no remorse for it, you know I can, don't you?" he continued, his blue eyes darkening to a deep violet color. "And I could do it all without my wand - strangling you with my bare hands would probably be more satisfying than the Killing Curse."
Harry didn't respond, but stood as rigid as Ron was. If Ron were to raise his wand right now and yell, "Avada Kedavra!" he knew he deserved it. He had let himself be overcome by a moment of weakness that he knew would cost him dearly.
*Flashback*
/Nothing happened between them.../ Harry's mind kept repeating. /David's gay.../
/She broke off her engagement.../
/You also accused her of being a slut./
He didn't mean to say it. Certainly not to her face, but he couldn't help himself. He had to lash out at her for making him feel terrible. For making his heart ache for her so much, knowing that sge could never be his. It seemed like the perfect revenge at the time. After all, should he be the onle one to suffer?
But her utter sadness, confusion and anger as she whispered, "I'm not a slut," tore right through his hatred. She sounded genuinely hurt by what he had said - but wasn't that the goal? To hurt her as much as she had hurt him?
When she slapped him, Harry felt his anger ebb despite himself. And when she ran off, telling him to stay out of her life, his mind spinned with blurred thoughts and echoes of her voice. He knew he had just made a terrible mistake, but he stayed rooted to to his spot at the Pitch, finding himself unable to follow her or to even move or breathe properly - at least, until the previously out-of-sight Bludgers reappeared again and hit his back simultaneously.
***
"Where am I?" he mumbled, gingerly opening his eyes and taking in his surroundings. He tried to sit up but his back felt so bruised and on fire that he lay back down again.
"Don't try to move," a female voice said sweetly, placing a damp towel on his forehead. "You've been out for quite a while so it's natural you'll still be feeling a little sore."
"Blaise?" he wondered aloud as his brain registered the seductive, dark- haired siren's sultry figure leaning over his bare chest. "Wha -? Where -?"
"You're in your room, Harry. I had to cast a spell on you before I airlifted you onto my broom so I could take you home." She began moving the towel along his neck, then to his chest, the dampness feeling so good on his hot body. "I found you lying face-down on the Pitch as I was doing my evening rounds. You must've been that way for quite a while. You had ants crawling all over your robes, I was afraid you might be dead. Be grateful that it's me who found you and not a deranged Potter-fan or you wouldn't be here with me."
"I - I don't know what to say. Thank you, Blaise," he replied warmly, not noticing (yet) that the damp towel was making its way to a lower destination.
Blaise's violet-blue eyes was drawing him in. "You look so - troubled, Harry."
"Do I?" She nodded, concern apparent in her eyes.
"Well," Harry sighed, recalling the day's events before the twin Bludgers knocked him out. "I just had a fight with Hermione..."
"Granger?" Blaise asked in surprise. " I didn't know she was back."
"Yes, she is. Just last week. She and I - we had a fight today. It's more my fault really..."
"How can it?" she murmured seductively, her fingers snapping off the button on his trousers as he looked on with bated breath.
"Blaise..."
"Just keep telling me what happened, Harry," she purred, sliding a finger down his fly to unzip him, causing her to brush against his manhood. "How can it be your fault?"
"Well, uh, I said some things that I, uh, I didn't really mean," he gasped when Blaise pulled his trousers off. "And she, well, she, um, got mad and slapped me. Blaise, wait..."
"Oh, you poor dear," she purred, caressing his cheek. "Did she hurt you? Why don't I kiss you to make it all better?" She leaned over and planted a wet kiss on the spot she just touched. "Does that make you feel better?" she asked, placing a finger on one of the buttons of her cardigan. In one expert move, she unfastened one button.
"Yeah - " he whispered, watching intently as she plucked another button off its fastener, revealing a delicious valley between her well-endowed breasts.
"Perhaps you're feeling a bit constrained," she suggested, her other fingers sliding their way under the waistband of his boxers. "Would it help if I pulled this away?" And without waiting for an answer, Blaise had removed Harry's underthings and tossed them carelessly onto the floor.
"Blaise..." he moaned, wanting to rip her cardigan open so he could revel in her breasts. But Hermione...
/What about Hermione?/ the angry side of his brain taunted him. /She said she didn't want to speak to you anymore. She told you to stay out of her life./
/I can't,/ the rational part of his brain countered. /I can't let it end like that. I love her./
/Love? What's love, Harry? A ring, a piece of parchment, a nagging wife and a screaming brat to tie you down. There's a beautiful and sexy woman waiting for you to ravage her, Harry. And there's more where she came from.. You're *the* Harry Potter - if Hermione doesn't want you, then it's he loss. Besides, can Hermione do that?/ His attention shifted back to Blaise who was invariably doing a striptease right on top of him.
/Hermione is so sweet and innocent,/ Harry thought. /I can't even imagine her doing that./
/That's right,/ his brain piped up again. /Savor this moment, Harry, and forget about her. Let her wallow in her self-pity. She's got David anyway./
That sealed the deal. Pushing all thoughts of Hermione to the back of his mind, Harry concentrated on the thrills of pleasure Blaise elicited in him as she teased him with her tongue and hands.
He felt her contract heavily as she met him, shifting slightly and gasping audibly as she accommodated his entire length inside her wet warmth. He knew he was a little too big and a tad bit too long for her to handle but Blaise just kept on working him, enjoying the pain of being completely filled by him as she slid against his hard length.
He *was* a bit too big than she'd ever care to admit but consoled herself with the the intense image of him slamming into her forcefully as she gripped his broad shoulders and yelled out his name in pure pleasure. She had wanted Harry ever since Hogwarts. Malfoy had provided her with enough compensation when she was feeling particularly frustrated, but imagined him to be Harry driving into her with so much force it nearly killed her - much to Malfoy's disdain at being thought of as a Harry-substitute. She'd always hated Hermione Granger, Harry's shadow and ultimately the love of his life. They didn't realize it yet but Blaise was very aware of the unsaid tension between them. It was too much for her not to notice, and Blaise prided herself in being very keen. So when Hermione left, she could grab her chance to lure him away. Tonight was her night.
But she had felt someone watching them, the hairs at the back of her neck prickling, and she turned around quickly when a vaguely familiar voice from their Hogwarts years called out, "Ron -!"
Harry had wondered why Blaise stopped her ministrations, as his eyes followed her gaze. Then he saw her - and the look of complete horror and pain etched on her face. The same look he had seen when she saw him kiss Diana by the lake four years ago. And it hurt him to recall that she had run away from him last time.
"Hermione, please. It's not what you think," he pleaded, trying to sit up against Blaise and his sore back. Sexual frustration bedamned! It's Hermione he wants!
She was obviously disgusted to see him in such a position and Harry wished fervently that a Time-Turner would drop out from the sky and into his hands. But Hermione backed away, all the while stammering apologies and explanations as he tried to get Blaise off of him. Fragments of what she was saying entered his brain, the important ones that he's waited so long to hear...
"David's gay, by the way. I broke off our engagement, but you didn't need to know that..."
But he did need to know that, and was glad she told him. That meant that he still had a chance to show her how much he loves her. If only he could just explain his way out of this particular mess...
"Hermione...oh god!" he cried out as he tried to straighten his back too quickly, realizing a little too late that it wasn't at all what she needed to hear.
But she was already gone when he had pried Blaise off him, leaving only an open-mouthed Ron glaring at him by the door.
*End of Flashback*
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you with my bare hands right now," Ron said darkly, his gaze never leaving Harry's.
He looked straight back at his best friend, bracing himself for a blow to the head - or worse, somewhere lower.
"I love Hermione."
Ron's eyes danced furiously for a moment, then considerably lightened to a dark, midnight color. He sighed defeatedly, clenching his hands so tightly his knuckles were turning white. "Damn it, Harry!" he cried in frustration. "Why do you insist on hurting her?"
"I didn't mean for her to see me tonight..." he bagen, but Ron shoved him aside.
"Don't you dare make it seem like it's her fault that she saw you with that...that...Slytherin! Don't you even try because I swear, Harry, I *will* strangle you."
"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled, looking away. "That thing - with Blaise - it's a mistake. I didn't mean for it to happen, and I certainly didn't mean for it to turn out the way it did. It just happened because I was stupid and angry and confused. I was angry at myself because I had hurt Hermione, but I was also angry at her because she's getting married - well, not now. Blaise provided me with what I needed at the right moment. My ego was feeling very battered because she had chosen David over me - because, in my heart, I always believed that I was the only man in her life, besides you, of course. She's...she's the only woman I ever wanted this badly and she didn't seem to want me. But here was someone who..." Harry sighed. "Blaise isn't the issue here anymore. It's me. I'm a daft prick."
"Damn right you are," Ron exclaimed. "How could you even think that she could even try to seduce other men? She may not be as beautiful or as gorgeous as those other girls you used to date, Harry but she's not desperate. She's very beautiful and attractive and smart and funny and loyal - how many women can you say that about? Did you know she tried to charm her hair once so it'll be just like Cho's because that's what she thought *you* wanted? She'd do absolutely anything for you, even pretend to be happy just as long as you're happy - even if it means not being with you. And she does that because she love you. She LOVES you! And you...you're a daft prick." Ron settled on the couch after this, exhausted and spent, his breathing erratic, but thankful because he finally had his say. Harry sat beside hi, only to bury his face in his hands and mumble incoherently.
"What?" Ron asked, looking over at him.
"I said, I really screwed up, didn't I?"
"Yeah, you did." Silence.
"Do you reckon there's a chance for her to take me back?"
Ron shook his head. "I don't know. But I'm just afraid that she might leave us for good this time, and she might not even owl me anymore."
"She can't leave!" Harry cried, sitting up. "She can't...I haven't..."
"She left you once, Harrym without as much as a goodbye. What makes you think she'll stay for this one?"
"She has to. I'll make her stay. I could Apparate in her room and try to reason with her. I could ask Mrs. Granger to let me talk to her..."
"And have her dad kick you out," Ron said. "Face it, Harry, we're both out of it this time. She's successfully avoided you for four years. She might want to put a record on that."
"She can't leave me, Ron," Harry declared, standing up. "Not again. I'll give her everything she wants, everything..."
"She doesn't need anything. She only wants you."
"Are you sure?"
"Honesty's always the best policy, they say. Do you know what you're going to do?" Ron asked after him, as he made his way to his room.
"Not yet. But if I'm going to make Hermione love me again, then I'd have to something drastic fast...and soon."