Chapter Three: Nightmares
Some time during the night, Blaise awoke to a muffled voice, as well as something hard hitting him in the back.
"What the…?" he trailed off, turning over to see what was going on. He faintly noted that the pain in his body was now mostly gone, except for a twinge here and there. The current pain was coming from his violent bed mate.
Weasley was now tossing and turning, swinging balled up hands in front of her, as if trying to hit someone, and occasionally a stray elbow struck him in the back. He rolled his eyes, and twisted over to his other side, and stared at the thrashing girl. He shook her a little, and then jerked his hand back. She only tossed more in response to his prodding. He was about to shake her awake, when he caught a few of her words.
"No Tom, please… you said you were my friend." His brow arched at the tear slipping down her cheek, and brushed it away gently with his finger.
"I said stop it Tom! No!" With that she opened her mouth to scream, but Blaise was quick to cover it with his hand. He rolled over, a leg on either side of her, and shook her awake with his free hand.
"Weasley! Snap out of it!" He saw her eyes open, and then widen when she realised the position they were in. She started to struggle underneath him, glaring daggers at him. He smirked.
"As much as you want me, runt, I'm sorry - I don't date good little girls." He rolled off of her, and was immediately pelted with a pillow.
"Urgh! You pervert!" she cried, still hitting him with the pillow.
"Blimey woman!" he said, in between dodging her pillow attacks. "You're as violent awake as you are asleep!" At this, she finally stopped, and looked at him blankly.
"What do you mean?"
His eyes rolled back and he sighed impatiently. "Evidently, Weasley," he sneered, "you were having a bad dream… and decided to take it out on me, both asleep and awake. Who's Tom by the way?"
She blinked a few times, trying to come up with an answer. "Uh...nobody," she finally stated.
"Oh? Right...that's why you were yelling for him to stop doing whatever it was he was doing to annoy you, because he was a nobody," he mocked unashamedly, and she narrowed her eyes.
"Bugger off, Zabini."
"Sorry, love, my room. Now who's this Tom fellow? A Hufflepuff perhaps, Ravenclaw maybe?"
"Leave it be, it doesn't concern you," she retorted.
'Oh but it did,' he thought. 'Who could this person be? Whoever it was sure as hell played an important part in her life, if she was dreaming about him. He felt a touch of ridiculous jealousy at this.
"Who is it runt?" he growled silkily, rolling her beneath him again.
She glared up at him furiously, nostrils flaming. "You're in Slytherin, you were probably bloody in on it." she spoke abnormally calm, her arms shaking, as if she was barely in control of her feelings.
He wasn't Head Boy for no reason. Tom.. .a Slytherin. His mind ran through all the current Slytherins, no Toms among them. Then he fell back to the next category, to try and deduce who this mystery fellow was. What had happened to her? As best he could tell, since her run in with the Chamber of Secrets, Charlie Weasley's death was the only major thing that had happened to her.
He froze, the Chamber of Secrets! Tom Riddle! Malfoy, always the bragger, had boasted about how his precious 'father' had slipped Lord Voldemort's old diary into the littlest Weasley's cauldron. Everyone at school thought that Riddle had just brainwashed her, and that was the extent of the damage.
Now, Blaise realised, that definitely wasn't all that had happened to her down in the Chamber. He stared at her in disbelief, so sweet, so innocent. That monster had done something to Ginny, and she still wasn't recovered, despite what she told everyone else.
"Runt… why didn't you tell me?" he asked, thoroughly unaware that he was asking it aloud, as he cupped her face in his hands, and stroked her delicate cheek bone, before pulling her into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, Gin." He breathed into her hair. She jerked back away from him, not because she didn't like the touch or crave more of it, but because he'd shocked her.
"What did you call me?" she asked incredulously, staring up at him.
"Um… uh..." he stumbled, losing his train of thought in the cinnamon coloured gaze of Ginny Weasley. All of a sudden, he snapped out of his trance and was once again one of Slytherin's baddest. "I didn't call you anything, Weasley." He spoke drolly, as if bored of the topic.
She stared at him a bit confused. He'd been hugging her one moment, and bored with her the next, what the hell was going on here? "Look Zabini, I don't like being jerked around.." she groused, glaring up at him.
"Oh?" he taunted innocently, he held her gaze a moment longer and then rolled off of her again, and shoved her towards the door. "Then leave, Weasley." he stated rudely, standing up from the bed and to her disappointment pulled on a shirt to cover his muscular back. When he turned around she was sitting there numbly, staring at him. "Must I remind you that I don't get involved with good little girls?" He asked, tskingly. In a flash she was on her feet and starting towards him.
"I'm more of a woman than those whores you spend all your time with, Zabini! So quit making cracks about me!"
"Oh are you now?" he spoke softly.
"Yeah, I am," she said, hands on her hips.
"Prove it then."
For the first time that morning, she looked taken aback. She'd fallen for his trap! How could she have allowed herself to, she wondered.
"Well..?" he prompted, raising an eyebrow. Not about to lose face to him, Slytherin or not, Zabini or not, she took a step closer, grasping his cheeks in her hands, and slowly drew him down. As she lowered his lips to her trembling ones, she had a flash of Tom and the Chamber of Secrets, and hastily moved away. Biting her lip to control it's trembling, she stumbled back, and ran from the room still merely clothed in his night shirt.
~*~
Still running through the halls, she realised all she was wearing was Bla… Zabini's shirt. With a groan, she halted and pulled her wand out to perform a quick spell to transfigure the shirt into something more appropriate. Her head jerked up as she heard the sound of voices around the corner.
"She probably just fell asleep in the library, Ron, calm down." came Hermione's voice.
"Yeah, listen to Hermione, Ron," seconded Harry.
"Oh god.." she murmured, looking around wildly for a hiding spot, transfiguration spell forgotten.
"Looking for a hiding spot Weasley?" A voice whispered into her ear, causing chills to spread down her spine, she spun around looking for him.
"Help me Zabini,." she pleaded urgently as the trio drew nearer.
She heard a soft chuckle. "Of course, Weasley. Just finished what you started back there."
She looked up at him as he finally revealed himself, and feigned confusion.
"Did you hear something Ron?" Harry asked quietly. Ginny gazed at him pleadingly.
"Please Blaise, they can't find me like this."
'Damn Weasel, it was hard not to help her when she looked at him like that and asked so nicely', but nevertheless he said, "Finish what you started Weasley."
"Damn you, Zabini," she barely grated out, before stretching up and pressing her lips to his lightly, intending only to give him a peck on the lips. To her pleasure (and displeasure) he wrapped his arms around her tightly before she could move, and pulled her into a hidden room, the Head Boy's bathroom. Once she sensed they were in another room and away from the trio, she tried to pull away, but he wasn't ready for that yet, and held onto her. He nibbled lightly at her lips, tickling the upper lip with his tongue.
She gasped in surprise and her lips parted, much to his delight. He slowly introduced his tongue to her mouth, revelling in her sweet taste. Admirably controlling his motions, he pulled back and was more than a little surprised when she made a small sound of disapproval. He led her to one of the plush benches dotting the room, while he sat down on the edge of the oversized bathtub.
Regaining her senses, she raised her little chin proudly, "Thanks for helping me, Zabini."
Blaise rolled his eyes. "It's Blaise, in private, Weasley."
She shrugged nonchalantly, and started to leave, faltering when she couldn't find the door.
"It's charmed not to show the door to anyone but the Head Boy. Cuts back on intruders," he said from close behind her.
"Oh," she stammered, much to her horror. He was only a Slytherin! Why on earth should she be stammering? "Well, show me the door, Zabini."
"I don't think I will," he stated softly and flopped into the tub, lounging lazily.
Mustering up as much courage as was possible for the little Gryffindor, she stalked over to him. "And if I scream..?"
"Go ahead, this room has a sound charm upon it as well, Dumbledore must know what kind of activities go on in here."
Scowling, she glared down at him. "You're bloody impossible, you know that?" Smirking proudly, he nodded.
"That's what they say."
With a frustrated sigh, she sat on the edge of the tub for a moment, before fixing him with a thoughtful gaze. She had an idea.
"Know what, Zabini?" she asked, trailing a hand up the inside of his leg.
"What?" He asked slightly unsteady, wondering what the wench was up to.
"If you can't beat them, join them." She bowed her head carefully, and kissed down the side of his neck, her hands now resting up on his shoulders. Unsure of her sudden change of heart he remained wary, trying his best not to fall into the trap of this viper. She continued teasing him and kissing all around his lips. He was about to take measures into his own hands when suddenly the taps in the tub turned on, blasting cold water over his fully clothed body. Startled, he glared at Ginny. She was laughing so hard she was shaking.
"You think it's so funny, Weasley? Why don't you join me?" Before she could react, he jerked her in the now partially filled bathtub with him. Yelping, she tried to pull away from him to no use.
"Prat! LET ME GO!" Outside the bathroom they heard people stopping.
"I know I heard someone, Harry!" That shut them both up, Blaise looked at Ginny, she was adorable with her hair partially wet and lips pouting. Ginny too was noticing how his damp hair clung boyishly to his face. She ran a curious hand down his chest.
"Do I get the same liberties with you?" He asked softly, a hand rising to hold her hip bone, lightly rubbing it. She dropped her hand and looked away ashamed. Frowning, he turned her back to face him.
"Didn't mean for you to stop, runt." His hand moved up, barely brushing her stomach, and stopped at her cheek, delicately sliding his thumb over her lips and cheeks. Unable to look away, she merely stared back into his eyes. Imperceptibly, their faces moved closer and closer, and just before their lips could touch, she whispered his name, "Blaise.." Smiling, he pressed his lips to hers, in a gentle kiss.
His mind was reeling from just the simple touch of lips when she pulled away from him and stepped out of the tub. Before he could protest, she quickly dried herself with a spell and left.
She had known about the exit all the time, he realised. How? And why had she stayed? He stayed there a while, wondering what he'd gotten himself in before finally moving.
Some time during the night, Blaise awoke to a muffled voice, as well as something hard hitting him in the back.
"What the…?" he trailed off, turning over to see what was going on. He faintly noted that the pain in his body was now mostly gone, except for a twinge here and there. The current pain was coming from his violent bed mate.
Weasley was now tossing and turning, swinging balled up hands in front of her, as if trying to hit someone, and occasionally a stray elbow struck him in the back. He rolled his eyes, and twisted over to his other side, and stared at the thrashing girl. He shook her a little, and then jerked his hand back. She only tossed more in response to his prodding. He was about to shake her awake, when he caught a few of her words.
"No Tom, please… you said you were my friend." His brow arched at the tear slipping down her cheek, and brushed it away gently with his finger.
"I said stop it Tom! No!" With that she opened her mouth to scream, but Blaise was quick to cover it with his hand. He rolled over, a leg on either side of her, and shook her awake with his free hand.
"Weasley! Snap out of it!" He saw her eyes open, and then widen when she realised the position they were in. She started to struggle underneath him, glaring daggers at him. He smirked.
"As much as you want me, runt, I'm sorry - I don't date good little girls." He rolled off of her, and was immediately pelted with a pillow.
"Urgh! You pervert!" she cried, still hitting him with the pillow.
"Blimey woman!" he said, in between dodging her pillow attacks. "You're as violent awake as you are asleep!" At this, she finally stopped, and looked at him blankly.
"What do you mean?"
His eyes rolled back and he sighed impatiently. "Evidently, Weasley," he sneered, "you were having a bad dream… and decided to take it out on me, both asleep and awake. Who's Tom by the way?"
She blinked a few times, trying to come up with an answer. "Uh...nobody," she finally stated.
"Oh? Right...that's why you were yelling for him to stop doing whatever it was he was doing to annoy you, because he was a nobody," he mocked unashamedly, and she narrowed her eyes.
"Bugger off, Zabini."
"Sorry, love, my room. Now who's this Tom fellow? A Hufflepuff perhaps, Ravenclaw maybe?"
"Leave it be, it doesn't concern you," she retorted.
'Oh but it did,' he thought. 'Who could this person be? Whoever it was sure as hell played an important part in her life, if she was dreaming about him. He felt a touch of ridiculous jealousy at this.
"Who is it runt?" he growled silkily, rolling her beneath him again.
She glared up at him furiously, nostrils flaming. "You're in Slytherin, you were probably bloody in on it." she spoke abnormally calm, her arms shaking, as if she was barely in control of her feelings.
He wasn't Head Boy for no reason. Tom.. .a Slytherin. His mind ran through all the current Slytherins, no Toms among them. Then he fell back to the next category, to try and deduce who this mystery fellow was. What had happened to her? As best he could tell, since her run in with the Chamber of Secrets, Charlie Weasley's death was the only major thing that had happened to her.
He froze, the Chamber of Secrets! Tom Riddle! Malfoy, always the bragger, had boasted about how his precious 'father' had slipped Lord Voldemort's old diary into the littlest Weasley's cauldron. Everyone at school thought that Riddle had just brainwashed her, and that was the extent of the damage.
Now, Blaise realised, that definitely wasn't all that had happened to her down in the Chamber. He stared at her in disbelief, so sweet, so innocent. That monster had done something to Ginny, and she still wasn't recovered, despite what she told everyone else.
"Runt… why didn't you tell me?" he asked, thoroughly unaware that he was asking it aloud, as he cupped her face in his hands, and stroked her delicate cheek bone, before pulling her into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, Gin." He breathed into her hair. She jerked back away from him, not because she didn't like the touch or crave more of it, but because he'd shocked her.
"What did you call me?" she asked incredulously, staring up at him.
"Um… uh..." he stumbled, losing his train of thought in the cinnamon coloured gaze of Ginny Weasley. All of a sudden, he snapped out of his trance and was once again one of Slytherin's baddest. "I didn't call you anything, Weasley." He spoke drolly, as if bored of the topic.
She stared at him a bit confused. He'd been hugging her one moment, and bored with her the next, what the hell was going on here? "Look Zabini, I don't like being jerked around.." she groused, glaring up at him.
"Oh?" he taunted innocently, he held her gaze a moment longer and then rolled off of her again, and shoved her towards the door. "Then leave, Weasley." he stated rudely, standing up from the bed and to her disappointment pulled on a shirt to cover his muscular back. When he turned around she was sitting there numbly, staring at him. "Must I remind you that I don't get involved with good little girls?" He asked, tskingly. In a flash she was on her feet and starting towards him.
"I'm more of a woman than those whores you spend all your time with, Zabini! So quit making cracks about me!"
"Oh are you now?" he spoke softly.
"Yeah, I am," she said, hands on her hips.
"Prove it then."
For the first time that morning, she looked taken aback. She'd fallen for his trap! How could she have allowed herself to, she wondered.
"Well..?" he prompted, raising an eyebrow. Not about to lose face to him, Slytherin or not, Zabini or not, she took a step closer, grasping his cheeks in her hands, and slowly drew him down. As she lowered his lips to her trembling ones, she had a flash of Tom and the Chamber of Secrets, and hastily moved away. Biting her lip to control it's trembling, she stumbled back, and ran from the room still merely clothed in his night shirt.
~*~
Still running through the halls, she realised all she was wearing was Bla… Zabini's shirt. With a groan, she halted and pulled her wand out to perform a quick spell to transfigure the shirt into something more appropriate. Her head jerked up as she heard the sound of voices around the corner.
"She probably just fell asleep in the library, Ron, calm down." came Hermione's voice.
"Yeah, listen to Hermione, Ron," seconded Harry.
"Oh god.." she murmured, looking around wildly for a hiding spot, transfiguration spell forgotten.
"Looking for a hiding spot Weasley?" A voice whispered into her ear, causing chills to spread down her spine, she spun around looking for him.
"Help me Zabini,." she pleaded urgently as the trio drew nearer.
She heard a soft chuckle. "Of course, Weasley. Just finished what you started back there."
She looked up at him as he finally revealed himself, and feigned confusion.
"Did you hear something Ron?" Harry asked quietly. Ginny gazed at him pleadingly.
"Please Blaise, they can't find me like this."
'Damn Weasel, it was hard not to help her when she looked at him like that and asked so nicely', but nevertheless he said, "Finish what you started Weasley."
"Damn you, Zabini," she barely grated out, before stretching up and pressing her lips to his lightly, intending only to give him a peck on the lips. To her pleasure (and displeasure) he wrapped his arms around her tightly before she could move, and pulled her into a hidden room, the Head Boy's bathroom. Once she sensed they were in another room and away from the trio, she tried to pull away, but he wasn't ready for that yet, and held onto her. He nibbled lightly at her lips, tickling the upper lip with his tongue.
She gasped in surprise and her lips parted, much to his delight. He slowly introduced his tongue to her mouth, revelling in her sweet taste. Admirably controlling his motions, he pulled back and was more than a little surprised when she made a small sound of disapproval. He led her to one of the plush benches dotting the room, while he sat down on the edge of the oversized bathtub.
Regaining her senses, she raised her little chin proudly, "Thanks for helping me, Zabini."
Blaise rolled his eyes. "It's Blaise, in private, Weasley."
She shrugged nonchalantly, and started to leave, faltering when she couldn't find the door.
"It's charmed not to show the door to anyone but the Head Boy. Cuts back on intruders," he said from close behind her.
"Oh," she stammered, much to her horror. He was only a Slytherin! Why on earth should she be stammering? "Well, show me the door, Zabini."
"I don't think I will," he stated softly and flopped into the tub, lounging lazily.
Mustering up as much courage as was possible for the little Gryffindor, she stalked over to him. "And if I scream..?"
"Go ahead, this room has a sound charm upon it as well, Dumbledore must know what kind of activities go on in here."
Scowling, she glared down at him. "You're bloody impossible, you know that?" Smirking proudly, he nodded.
"That's what they say."
With a frustrated sigh, she sat on the edge of the tub for a moment, before fixing him with a thoughtful gaze. She had an idea.
"Know what, Zabini?" she asked, trailing a hand up the inside of his leg.
"What?" He asked slightly unsteady, wondering what the wench was up to.
"If you can't beat them, join them." She bowed her head carefully, and kissed down the side of his neck, her hands now resting up on his shoulders. Unsure of her sudden change of heart he remained wary, trying his best not to fall into the trap of this viper. She continued teasing him and kissing all around his lips. He was about to take measures into his own hands when suddenly the taps in the tub turned on, blasting cold water over his fully clothed body. Startled, he glared at Ginny. She was laughing so hard she was shaking.
"You think it's so funny, Weasley? Why don't you join me?" Before she could react, he jerked her in the now partially filled bathtub with him. Yelping, she tried to pull away from him to no use.
"Prat! LET ME GO!" Outside the bathroom they heard people stopping.
"I know I heard someone, Harry!" That shut them both up, Blaise looked at Ginny, she was adorable with her hair partially wet and lips pouting. Ginny too was noticing how his damp hair clung boyishly to his face. She ran a curious hand down his chest.
"Do I get the same liberties with you?" He asked softly, a hand rising to hold her hip bone, lightly rubbing it. She dropped her hand and looked away ashamed. Frowning, he turned her back to face him.
"Didn't mean for you to stop, runt." His hand moved up, barely brushing her stomach, and stopped at her cheek, delicately sliding his thumb over her lips and cheeks. Unable to look away, she merely stared back into his eyes. Imperceptibly, their faces moved closer and closer, and just before their lips could touch, she whispered his name, "Blaise.." Smiling, he pressed his lips to hers, in a gentle kiss.
His mind was reeling from just the simple touch of lips when she pulled away from him and stepped out of the tub. Before he could protest, she quickly dried herself with a spell and left.
She had known about the exit all the time, he realised. How? And why had she stayed? He stayed there a while, wondering what he'd gotten himself in before finally moving.