Five Teas & a Latte
ArielSakura
Summary:
All Harry wants is to finish the draft of his book while enjoying a cup of tea in his favourite café. So why is it that Blaise Zabini keeps joining him there every other day?
OR
Five times Blaise asks Harry out and Harry is his oblivious self and has no clue.
Harry looked up when the chair in front of him was suddenly filled by another person. Up until now, he had been working quietly in his favourite muggle coffee shop, gently typing away at his magically protected laptop and fully embracing the writer stereotype as he worked on his next novel surrounded by a quiet bubble of chatter and the clinking of cups.
"Fancy seeing you here," the smooth, caramel-like voice said.
Harry blinked as the face, name, and little pieces of information registered in his mind. Blaise Zabini. Slytherin. His year in Hogwarts. Quiet, kept to himself. Something about his mother marrying a bunch of men that all wound up mysteriously dead and oh — didn't that just spark the imagination? He had been struggling to find the motivation for his most recent villain but how intriguing would it be if he twisted it instead; the villain turning out to be a vigilante, merely righting past wrongs in the only way they knew how, and his hero ending up befriending him…
Shaking his head, Harry snapped off his train of thought. "Erm, hi, Zabini, isn't it? Been a while."
"Long enough that I should insist on you calling me Blaise. I know we didn't exactly run in the same circles at school, but there was never any hostility between us. At least not from myself."
Harry's thoughts swirled again. That was right, Zabini was usually found in the company of Daphne Greengrass, Tracy Davis, and sometimes Theodore Nott. All of them neutral – despite Theo's father.
"Harry then," he allowed. "What brings you to the muggle side of London?"
Zabini lifted one shoulder. "This and that, heard there was something to see in this area."
Harry snorted, "Something to see in Islington?" He considered for a moment. "Well, there are a few theaters, and the London Canal Museum — if that's the sort of thing you're into," he joked.
Zabini shrugged elegantly again, and Harry's eyes caught on the way his shoulders moved beneath his fitted charcoal sweater.
The waitress came over then and asked if they would like anything off the menu.
Zabini smiled charmingly up at her. "Skim latte, thank you, and one of those scrumptious looking apple crumble muffins."
The waitress blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before turning to a slightly wide-eyed Harry.
"Erm, just another pot of tea, thank you," he said, gesturing to the empty pot beside him.
She nodded, quickly clearing the table of his empty cup, plate, and tea pot before smiling shyly at Zabini once more and heading back behind the counter.
Harry's eyes tracked her progress and when he looked back at Zabini it was to find his amber gaze locked on Harry. Unsure as to what was expected of him, Harry quickly hit the save button on his latest draft and minimised the program.
Somehow, mercifully, he didn't feel awkward sitting here with Zabini, though it was decidedly odd that Zabini had just joined him out of the blue.
"Was there ah— something you wanted?" Harry asked after a moment.
Zabini flashed his very white teeth in a smile. "Oh, very much so."
"Right," Harry said. Still unsure as to what Zabini was alluding to, he was very thankful when the waitress reappeared.
He accepted his pot of tea with a murmur of thanks and peeked up from under his lashes as she served Zabini. She placed the muffin and latte directly in front of him, but Zabini apparently paid her no mind. Instead, he kept his gaze on Harry, watching as he poured a cup of tea and stirred in half a sugar. Only a polite 'thank you' uttered in her direction showed Zabini had even noticed the waitress.
"So," Zabini said, "what have you been doing recently?"
Harry raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
"You know, since—" Zabini waved a hand, "—school."
Harry snorted, "Since I defeated Voldemort and retreated from society you mean?"
"That too," Zabini said unabashed, taking a sip of his latte.
Harry tracked his tongue as it swiped over his upper lip to remove the hint of milk froth that clung to it.
"Well, not all that much really," Harry said, picking up his own cup.
They fell into easy conversation, mostly about mutual friends of whom they shared a few. Harry was surprised at how nice it was to talk to someone who didn't know every intimate detail about him. He mostly kept to his small circle of intimate friends, only attending the occasional party or gathering and never for very long. He had seen Zabini at those before, but never had he thought to converse with the man.
"So," Zabini said, after close to an hour and another coffee while they idly chatted. "I heard there's a new restaurant opening in Hogsmeade, some sort of fusion—"
Harry groaned. "A fusion restaurant? Those things are the worst. Can't they just pick a theme and be done with it? Why ruin perfectly good meals by meshing them with other perfectly good meals?"
Zabini gave a sort of tight chuckle, but before they could say anything more, the alarm on Harry's computer began to beep.
"Shite— sorry, I'm going to have to go," he said apologetically as he slid his now closed laptop into his bag. "Hermione and Draco are expecting me for dinner, and I have to pick my godson up on the way."
Zabini stood with him and held out his hand, "Well, thank you for the chat, Harry."
Something buzzed inside him as his given name rolled off Zabini's tongue. His lightly accented voice made his name sound exotic and intimate all at once.
Harry reached forward and shook Zabini's hand. His palm was warm and smooth against his own.
"I should be thanking you, it was a really enjoyable afternoon. Though I hardly think my boss will be happy with my output today."
Zabini's lips quirked into a nearly sinful smile. "So, perhaps we could do this again?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah, that would be alright, I'm here from lunch onwards most days," he said, only just now relinquishing his grip on the handshake and gesturing to the coffee shop.
Zabini's smile grew. "Well, then I'll see you around, Harry."
Harry swallowed lightly, unsure as to why that sounded so much like a promise.
It was two days later when Zabini arrived to join Harry again. They passed the time in much the same way, chatting amiably about their friends for the first little while as they waited for their drinks to arrive.
"Do you always get a pot of tea?" Zabini asked as the waitress set their order down in front of them.
"Caffeine. It's the lifeblood of writers and all," Harry shrugged. He hadn't slept well the night before and had ended up getting up in the middle of the night to write.
It helped to take the edge of his nightmares, but it did mean that he got easily caught up in his stories and generally stayed up far longer than he ought to. He had only dragged himself out of bed this morning because Ginny had flooed him with exciting news.
Zabini raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you do then? You're a writer?"
"Shit, I shouldn't have said that," Harry sighed and scrubbed his face.
Zabini grinned at him.
"Yeah, I'm a writer," Harry said with some resignation. "But please don't tell anyone."
Zabini dragged his finger over his heart, making a cross sign against the smooth fabric of his shirt.
"Anything I would have read?"
Harry shrugged. "Maybe, though I'm not telling you my penname."
Zabini made a wounded noise and Harry grinned at him over his coffee mug.
"How was dinner the other night with the Granger-Malfoy's? And your godson, right?"
"Yeah, his name's Teddy."
"Teddy?"
"Well, Edward, really. But everyone calls him Teddy – except Draco," Harry rolled his eyes. "But yeah, dinner was good. Hermione seemed interested in the fact we caught up the other day. Kept asking about you."
"Oh?" Zabini asked, a wry smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
Harry shrugged one shoulder. "I think she was just surprised we spoke for so long. It's not like we've had much to do with each other during our seven years at school — well, six in my case."
Zabini hummed but it didn't seem like he quite agreed. Harry let it go, however, as he didn't know how to press for more information – or what information he would be pressing for.
"Would you tell me more about your godson? Draco has told me he can be quite the handful."
Harry grinned. "Well, that's mainly because Teddy keeps slipping canary cream filling into Draco's drinks."
Zabini snorted inelegantly. "Well, he certainly left that part of the story out."
Harry laughed and soon delved into more of Teddy's pranking exploits, helped gloriously along by his Uncles Fred and George.
The last tale of Draco being forcibly apparated onto the roof of the large home he and Hermione had bought when they decided to move into together had tears in Zabini's eyes.
"Oh my Merlin, you're going to need to keep me apprised of all young Teddy's exploits against Draco. I've gotten more teasing and blackmail material from you this afternoon than all of third year."
Harry snorted.
Amiable silence fell between them for a moment as they smiled at each other. Harry watched as Zabini leant forward, arms crossed as he rested his elbows on the table.
"So, I managed to get box seats to the Harpies match against the Falcons this weekend—"
"It's going to be a brilliant match, isn't it?" Harry jumped right onto the new topic. "Ginny managed to get the team's family box for us all, too."
Zabini's brow furrowed for a moment, and Harry wondered if he was somehow disappointed, but why would he be? They were going to the same match after all. Pushing away the strange thought, they carried on chatting about match statistics until Harry had to leave to collect Teddy from school.
"Are you free again tomorrow?" Zabini asked.
"If I'm not caught in my muse," Harry joked. "But yes, I'll be here."
Zabini stood when he did and walked out with him, pushing the door open for Harry when they reached it.
"Er, thanks," Harry murmured, ducking his head as he brushed Zabini's broad frame.
They walked to the apparition point together, Harry casting sideways glances at the man who walked next to the curb beside him. He was taller than Harry, but that was a given. Though he had shot up substantially in sixth year, Harry was still on the average side of height. Zabini walked with an elegant grace, every move somehow calculated and yet effortless.
And when Harry turned to wish him goodbye, the sun caught his eyes, turning them into a sort of molten whiskey.
"Uh, well, I'll see you?"
Zabini smiled, and the slow quirk of his lips caused Harry to inhale deeply, his stomach clenching as something inside it fluttered.
"Of course."
Harry was frowning and muttering at his laptop when Blaise appeared the next day.
"Everything alright there?" Blaise asked, amusement lacing his voice as he placed a fresh pot of tea next to Harry.
"Stupid wankers won't do what they're supposed to," Harry grumbled darkly.
Blaise raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his latte. "As the author, aren't you in control of them?"
Harry rolled his lips together as he jabbed agitatedly at a few more keys before he answered. "That's not how it works. You create the characters, you create the world, you create the problems they're going to face but as soon as you put the prats on the page, they do whatever they damn well please. Merlin's sake! Stop. It."
He growled at the computer and shut the laptop with a definitive clip.
Blaise chuckled again as Harry poured himself a cup of tea.
"Thanks for this by the way, forgot to reorder one."
"You're welcome," Blaise replied. "So what is it your characters are doing that's causing you such agitation?"
Harry shot another dark glare at his laptop. "They're supposed to be having a deep and meaningful conversation about their relationship. Or about the upcoming plot."
Blaise hummed as he raised his cup to his lips once more.
" Instead , one of them is blowing the other—"
Blaise promptly sputtered and sent a spray of coffee across the table. Harry laughed heartily and handed him a few napkins.
"What?" asked Blaise weakly.
Harry grinned. "You know, cock sucking, fellatio, paying lip service, giving head—"
"Yes, I know what a blowjob is, thank you," Blaise replied dryly.
Harry shrugged unrepentantly, wide grin in place as his earlier frustration was replaced with amusement.
Blaise quickly wiped the table down in front of him and discreetly vanished the napkins.
"You were seriously writing porn just then? Is that why you won't give me your author name? You write porn?"
Harry laughed again and shook his head. "Merlin, no. It was just an erotic scene, that's all. This will end up somewhere around a hundred thousand words and maybe fifteen thousand of them will be sexual— " He paused for a moment, considering, "well, if they carry on at this rate, maybe eighteen thousand."
"But— here?" Blaise said, glancing around the very public area they were sitting in.
Harry smirked. "Why do you think I sit with my back to the wall?"
Blaise inclined his head in acknowledgement. "I would have lost money if I'd placed a bet on what you were writing. You've got quite the poker face."
"Not always. Merlin, help me when I'm writing fluff."
"Fluff?"
"Yeah, you know that ridiculously cutesy, holding hands, confessing everything they like about each other, sleepy mornings in bed. All that stuff that makes you screw up your nose and say 'aww'. Can't keep the grin off my face, it's stupidly sappy."
Blaise chuckled, "Harry Potter, the secret romantic."
"Shut up, Blaise," Harry replied, throwing a sugar packet into his laughing face.
He paused for a moment, that was curious. When had he begun thinking of Zabini as 'Blaise'? Not that it was a big deal, of course. He called Draco by his first name, too. This was no different, right?
Of course not.
Blaise's chuckle pulled Harry back to the moment, and he saw him shaking his head, replacing the sugar packet back in it's holder. They fell into easy conversation once more and weren't even close to finished by the time they were ready to leave. As they walked outside, Blaise abruptly turned the conversation from Teddy's latest adventures to a new topic.
"There's this new movie opening this weekend— Artemis Fowl? Hermione mentioned you enjoyed the books—"
Harry groaned. "Oh, Merlin, please don't remind me. The movie is going to be a disaster. It's going to be absolutely nothing like the books. You know the saying, the more you love a book, the more you'll be disappointed by the movies? I saw the trailers, don't even get me started on Artemis' character. It's going to be completely changed, there's going to be zero character growth for him. It will bore everyone to absolute tears."
He ended up launching into a near ten-minute rant about the flaws already present in the upcoming movie and he was very nearly late to collect Teddy.
"Erm— sorry about that, I get a bit— well… passionate about these things."
Blaise shook his head and stepped into Harry's space. He made an aborted move and for a wild second, Harry wondered if he had wanted to brush away the stray strand of hair Harry could feel brushing against the side of his face. But that couldn't be right...
"Don't apologise," Blaise said, his voice husky and low, pulling Harry out of his musings. "It's quite something to see you so passionate."
Harry's breath caught, and they seemed to be frozen in a bubble of time — until Harry's wand emitted a low whistle, signalling he really had to leave now to collect his godson from school.
"Erm— Sorry, I really have to go," Harry whispered, wondering how he was so breathless all of a sudden. Feeling as though his nerves were a flutter, Harry spun into his apparation quickly and was gone.
It had been a long, event-filled weekend, and Harry had been looking forward to the peace of the coffee shop since Saturday night. Teddy had been his usual exuberant self, and even though Andromeda had taken him for the afternoon on Sunday — so that Harry could get some writing done — he hadn't managed any of it, instead using the time to catch up on household chores that were easier without a six-year-old present.
He pushed open the door, ordered his first pot of tea with a ham and cheese croissant and made his way to his usual corner. He lost himself quickly in the soft tapping of his keyboard and the general clatter and chatter of the coffee shop.
It was hours later, and Harry was so caught up in his story that he barely registered Blaise's presence when he took the seat opposite him. He knew that he had returned his greeting, but his thoughts were entirely caught in his story, the words pouring from his fingers as his characters continued to dance around their feelings for one another.
Harry glanced up from his laptop to see Blaise smiling wryly at him.
"Oh, hey, sorry I—" he looked back down at his laptop and quickly finished off the sentence. Only to add another piece of dialogue as the perfect words filtered into his mind.
"No, it's quite alright. I'm the one interrupting your work time after all."
Harry added a quick retaliation from the other character. "Yeah… Shit— sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I mean— I just, I've barely written anything all weekend and I've got a deadline approaching and my muse on my shoulder, and I just have to…" He gestured uselessly at his chest in a motion that was supposed to convey that he needed the words out.
"It's alright, I understand, I think. I can't empathise of course, but I understand. I won't keep you."
Harry smiled gratefully at him, "I do enjoy these chats of ours, though."
Blaise smiled as he stood, "I'm glad to hear it."
Harry returned the grin briefly, but his eyes were quickly dragged back to his screen, his fingers automatically beginning the next sentence.
"I only wanted to ask, did you hear about the new club they're opening in Diagon Alley?"
"Club?" Harry asked absently, his brow furrowing as he tried to figure out his characters next response. "What, like a wizarding chess club? I didn't realise it was popular enough to need it's own space."
Blaise chuckled, "No, not wizard's chess."
Harry was quiet for a moment as he frowned at his screen, the words eventually filtering through.
"Gobstones then? That's even stranger, I didn't realise anyone outside of Hogwarts actually played."
Eyes widening as a thought came to him, he began typing again, his fingers flying over the keyboard in a frenzy. He heard Blaise sigh, but paid it no heed when he simply uttered goodbye.
It wasn't until the scene was finished that he noticed the fresh pot of tea on the table. Biting his lip, he started to wonder if there was more to these interactions than simply chatting — and if Blaise had thought him really rude for being so absorbed in his work.
Harry shut his laptop the moment he saw Blaise walk in. He didn't want Blaise to be subjected to the same experience he had yesterday. It didn't sit right with Harry that he had all but ignored Blaise. He couldn't say exactly why, just that it did. He'd stayed up well past his own bedtime, after he had put Teddy to sleep, to make sure he had gotten enough work done that he would be able to take it easy today without stressing about his drafting deadline.
Blaise glanced his way and Harry lifted a hand in greeting. The smile he got in return was beautiful, and it lit up Blaise's entire being. Blaise paused at the counter, chatting amiably with the waitress, waving a hand in Harry's direction as he did so. The waitress nodded and Blaise handed her a few muggle notes to cover what he had ordered before he came to sit with Harry.
"You don't have to keep buying me drinks you know," Harry said in a way of greeting. "But I appreciate it all the same."
Blaise smiled at him as he took his chair. "I wanted to. How are you today?"
Harry bobbed his head, "Good, goo—" he yawned violently and shook his head. "Sorry."
Blaise raised an eyebrow. "You were saying?"
Harry smiled sheepishly. "Erm," he ran a hand through his hair, "bit of a late night last night."
"Couldn't sleep?"
"No, just, getting some more of my story done, so I didn't have to stress about it too much today."
Blaise's eyes seemed to light up at that, "oh?"
Harry was saved from answering by the arrival of the waitress. He busied himself with his tea and made such a production out of it that it really had been too long to circle back to the semi-question. Hadn't it? Harry looked up to see Blaise watching him from over the rim of his coffee cup.
Damn.
He felt the heat on his neck rising, and he rubbed absently at it. "I ah— was a bit rude yesterday. I'm sorry, I get really caught up in my muse sometimes, and it makes it hard to focus on anything else."
"It's alright, I understand I'm intruding on what free time you have to write. I've made rather a nuisance of myself I suspect—"
Harry flung his hand out across the table, catching Blaise's in his own. "No!"
They both froze and Harry pulled back, his hand sliding off Blaise's and back across the table. "I mean, you are, but I want you to. You're not a nuisance."
Blaise smiled that wonderful smile again, and Harry ducked his head to sip from his tea.
"Well," Blaise said after a moment, "in that case, you mentioned the other day that you dislike fusion restaurants. What kind of restaurants do you like?"
Harry shrugged. "I dunno, I don't really go out to restaurants much. 'Specially not wizarding ones, too much publicity. I like simple meals anyway. Shepards Pie, big bowls of pasta."
"Family meals," Blaise said, a knowing smile tucked into the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah, I suppose. Meals aren't just about the food in front of you. It's about the company, too."
Blaise cleared his throat, "You know, my grandmother was an excellent cook. I've got all her recipes, her spinach and ricotta cannelloni… I don't think I've ever had anything better. Maybe you and Teddy would like to come around one night?"
Harry smiled. "That sounds wonderful, but Teddy doesn't eat spinach. It's the one thing I can't get him to try. He'll eat brussel sprouts by the bucket but he spots a wilted spinach leaf and it's tantrums galore. I wouldn't want to subject you to that."
Just then, Harry's phone began ringing in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the number. Frowning, he apologised quickly to Blaise.
"Sorry, it's Teddy's school."
Blaise sat back, and Harry turned in his seat to take the call.
"Hello? Yes this is Harry Potter, I'm Teddy's godfather. Is everything okay? Oh, oh no. Is he alright? Of course. I'll be right there."
He hung up the phone and turned back to see Blaise sliding his laptop into his bag for him and standing up.
"I'm sorry to cut this short, but Teddy had a fall on the playground. Apparently, he missed his grip on the monkey bars and hit his head on the platform."
"Oh, Merlin, no! Did they say if he's alright? Is there anything I can do?" Blaise asked as he offered the bag to Harry.
Taking it and slipping it over his shoulder, Harry shook his head. "No, thank you. I'm just going to take him home and call our Healer to come and check on him. He should be fine, the school nurse seems to think he'll be alright. He's just a bit shaken up."
"Understandably so," Blaise replied as they made their way out of the coffee shop, Blaise holding the door open for Harry again as they threw a quick wave in the direction of the wait staff.
They reached the apparation point in record time, striding quickly to get there.
"Let me know if there is anything I can do," Blaise reiterated as they said goodbye. "My floo address is: Hillside View, North York Moors."
Harry nodded his thanks and disappeared.
"Teddy! Come on! You're going to be late!" Harry yelled up the stairs.
He shook his head at the sudden scuffling sounds he heard and grinned to himself. Thankfully, their Healer had been able to come right over and after a few spells, declared Teddy free of any lingering repercussions. A simple monitoring charm as a precaution, a little bruise balm, and Teddy was as good as new. She recommended chocolate for the fright and once she had left, Harry and Teddy had settled on the couch for an afternoon of snuggling, movies, and tickle fights.
Walking back toward the kitchen he heard a chime from the floo and switched direction. Who was flooing him this early in the morning?
"Oh hey, Ginny! What's up?"
"What's up? What's up? You, Harry James Potter, are the daftest, most oblivious , most unaware person in the history of the world! How you defeated Voldemort with your powers of observation astounds me! Thank Godric Hermione has been trying to help— mpfh !"
Ginny's strident voice was suddenly cut off and Hermione's head replaced hers.
"Sorry about that, Harry. Ginny came around for an early morning gossip before practice and well— anyway!" Her voice was faux cheery in a way Harry knew she was keeping something from him. "Have fun on your date with Blaise today! Fuck! Oh— Bye!"
Harry watched the flames in the fire die out, his eyes wide behind his glasses.
Hermione thought he had a date? With Blaise? Did he? Is that what they had been doing? Ginny said something about Hermoine helping — helping with what? Helping who?
Suddenly, the pieces began to fall together. Harry knew he had a tendency to overlook the obvious, after all, he had been completely blindsided when Seamus had popped the question to Dean a few years ago. But to miss all this? Miss the attention Blaise had been giving him? The hints about Hermione mentioning things Harry liked? The opening doors, walking curbside… Harry flushed as he realised Blaise had been acting the perfect gentleman around him and that he had just been completely unaware of the fact that Blaise was interested in him.
Well, Harry's rational mind said, It's not like he's come out and asked you on a date has he?
Agreeing with himself under his breath, he stood and brushed off his knees. Although— North York Moors was a fair distance to apparate every day… And maybe Blaise had tried...
Pulling his thoughts away as he heard Teddy thunder down the stairs — how a six-year-old could make it sound like they lived with a herd of elephants, Harry still didn't know — he got them ready to leave the house. Double checking to make sure Teddy had everything he would need for when Andromeda collected him from school. Today was Wednesday, and Wednesday's were for 'Sleepovers at Grandma's'.
Once Teddy was dropped off at school — and assurances given to his teachers that everything was alright — Harry headed for the coffee shop. His mind now free to fixate on the events of that morning and the past two weeks. Running over every conversation in his head, he groaned aloud as he pushed open the door to the coffee shop. Blaise had asked him to go on a date with him. There were at least two instances Harry could think of where Blaise had hinted at such a thing, but Harry had completely cut him off. He wanted to smack himself in the forehead.
Once he had found his seat, he opened his laptop despite knowing he wouldn't get much done. Choosing to rework some of what he had written previously instead of adding new content, he settled in. Unable to stop himself from watching the door, hoping that Blaise would walk in.
Harry started to get nervous when the clock ticked past the time Blaise normally showed up. Finally giving into his nervous energy — and realising he hadn't changed anything in the document for the past half an hour — Harry shoved his laptop into his bag and wrapped his fingers around his mug. One knee bouncing nervously.
Unsure as to why he was so anxious, Harry prodded at his feelings. Did he like Blaise like that? Did he want to pursue something with him? If Blaise did like Harry… Did he return those feelings?
Realising that the answer to those questions was a resounding: yes , Harry steeled his resolve to do something about it. Suddenly, the bell above the door chimed and Harry looked up to see Blaise standing there, looking agitated. Harry stood up and their eyes suddenly locked across the room.
Blaise made his way quickly across the room, not stopping until he was standing right beside Harry and they began to speak at the same time.
"I've been told I need to be more direct—"
"I've been a bit of an idiot— All this time—"
"—will you go on a date with me?"
"—you've been trying to ask me out?"
Harry huffed a laugh and ran a hand through his hair, while he met Blaise's eyes, embarrassed.
Blaise gave him a tentative smile in return.
Throwing all caution to the wind, Harry surged upwards, capturing Blaise's lips in a kiss. He felt Blaise stiffen for a moment, before his arms wound around Harry's waist and he pulled him in tight against his chest.
The kiss was heady and Harry's eyes fluttered shut as he sighed into it, his hands coming up to grip Blaise's arms. They kept it mostly chaste, but the feeling swelling inside Harry was anything but.
He pulled away with a little gasp and bit his lip, eyes crinkling in a smile as Blaise made to chase him.
"So, um— I've got coffee and tea back at my place?" Harry suggested.
Blaise smirked, his eyes darkening. "That sounds like an excellent plan."
Epilogue:
The floo chimed for the third time and Harry dragged himself from his bed and Blaise's urgent embrace. Muttering to himself as he grabbed his robe and attempted to hide his erection.
"Hermione," he sighed as he answered the call, "What is it?"
"Oh, Harry— are you alright? Are you ill? Why are you in your bathrobe in the middle of the afternoon?"
"Er, just am. So, did you need something?"
"Well, I was calling to see if you were okay… We um— we haven't heard from— erm…"
"It's alright, Hermione," came Blaise's voice from behind Harry.
Harry watched as Hermione's eyes went wide and she squeaked.
He glanced back to see that Blaise had entered the room with only a towel around his waist. Still damp from their efforts to clean up after their second round in the sheets.
"Hermione, love? I can't get a hold of Blais— Oh. Right then."
Harry's eyes flicked back and forth between a stunned silent Hermione and Draco, throwing another glance over his shoulder at Blaise.
"Right, well that's that then," he said. "I'm blocking the floo now."
With that, he disconnected the call and blocked the floo.
"So, you've been conspiring with Hermione," Harry said as he stood up.
A guilty look crossed Blaise's features and he bit his lip, "Yes. I'm sorry, it's just. I've fancied you for so long— and I had no idea how to approach you on my own. Let alone find you."
"So you went to Hermione…"
"She came to me actually. Apparently, I was 'beyond obvious' at Neville and Pansy's engagement."
Harry had to stifle his grin at the disgruntled pout on Blaise's face.
"Anyway, Hermione… she said she would help me get to know you— Merlin, I've bollocksed all this up, haven't I?"
"Well, that depends—"
"On?"
"On how much of our conversations were you and how much of it was Hermione? I really don't want to date my sister."
Blaise seemed to sigh with relief, and he stepped fully inside the room. "It was all me. Every word. I swear. She only told me where I would be able to find you and she helped me try and come up with some dates you might enjoy but that's all. Especially when I struck out the very first time."
"Dates? Plural?"
Blaise nodded. "The fusion restaurant was my idea. Hermione suggested the Quidditch and the movie. Draco suggested the club—"
"Draco thought I'd want to go play gobstones? I thought he knew me better than that, at least."
Blaise laughed and shook his head. "It's a clubbing spot, Harry."
Harry's eyes went wide with horror. "Danc— oh Merlin, no. I'm sorry, but I would absolutely prefer gobstones over clubbing ."
"I'll keep that in mind then," Blaise said, the smile still playing on his lips. "Truth be told, it's not really my thing either, but I hoped you would realise the invitation for what it was."
"And what was that?"
"Me just wanting to spend time with you. To be close to you. To get to know you."
With each sentence, Blaise drew closer and when he paused, Harry hummed, letting him stew for a moment. "And your grandmother's cannelloni?" he finally asked.
"That was all me." Blaise replied, his hands slipping around Harry's waist, eyes searching his face to make sure his actions were alright. "Those recipes are a very closely guarded family secret, I would only ever feed them to someone I was very serious about."
"You're that serious about this? About me?"
Blaise nodded. "Zabini's fall hard, and only once. And I can feel it in my soul that it will be you I fall for."
Harry was at a complete loss of words. He had never heard anything so wondrous as what Blaise had just said. They resonated within him, searing themselves onto his heart. He surged upward, claiming Blaise's mouth in an urgent, passionate kiss. When they broke apart moments later, panting for breath, Harry's voice was hushed and rough with emotion.
"I think Potter's are the same."
~ fin ~
