"What the hell, Blaise?" Daphne asked angrily as she stormed into the infirmary after Potions. Yes, Blaise had in fact been telling the truth when he spoke to Professor Snape and had ran to the hospital wing only to retch his guts out in the bedpan nearest to the door.
He was lying on one of the cots, holding a cold compress to his head. Madam Pomfrey shot Daphne an evil glare for disrupting the quiet and peace of her clinic, and scolded shrilly, "Miss Greengrass! Those words are very lady-like! And if you can't control your temper you won't be allowed to stay in this infirmary!"
Daphne summoned a fakely sweet smile to her face. "Of course, Madam Pomfrey," she apologized, "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."
When Madam Pomfrey had bustled into her office, as she had to file some patient folders, or so she had told them before she whisked off, Daphne simmered as she saw a thoroughly sick Blaise. She smiled sympathetically at her best friend and walked to his side. She took his hand in hers and said, "You're really sick, aren't you?"
Blaise smiled weakly. "According to Madam Pomfrey I have the stomach flu," he explained. He stopped smiling and pulled his mouth in an opposite direction, into a frown. "It's a stupid muggle disease that most wizards have built up a tolerance for. But naturally I got it."
"Why'd you do it?" Daphne asked.
"Do what?" he inquired with slightly narrowed eyes.
"Run away from him like that," she told him simply. "You should have seen his face when he realized you'd gone. It was like he was kicked in the stomach."
Blaise let go of her hand and dropped his to the bed. He closed his eyes. "I was just so scared, Daph," he whispered. "I didn't mean to hurt him. I was so ready to finally face him and tell him who I am and what I want from him. But then Longbottom came in and started spouting all that crap and I…I just couldn't…"
Daphne didn't say anything but stroked his forehead with the back of her hand.
"I didn't mean to hurt him," he repeated quietly, before drifting off to sleep.
Daphne pulled the sheet that had been previously rumpled at the bottom of the bed up over his body. She glanced back at him as she reached for the heavy door's handle and said, "I know you didn't, sweet, but you did."
Harry shook with a silent rage. How dare Neville pull a stunt like that and make Blaise run away from him! How dare he!
It took all that he had in him not to run down into the common room and beat the living daylights out of his ex-boyfriend right now. He kicked the bottom of his four-poster bed. The door creaked open, and Ron shuffled in, followed by Hermione.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, voice full of concern.
"Of course he isn't okay, Hermione," Ron answered for him, "Don't be thick."
"Me don't be thick," Hermione repeated, quirking an eyebrow, "Look who's talking, Ronald."
"Guys, please," Harry interjected before the argument could grow into fully-fledged.
"Sorry," Ron apologized, and Hermione soon followed suit.
"I'm fine," he lied, shifting his eyes to the door. "I just need to go and see Blaise to clear this all up."
"How are you going to do that?" Ron inquired, "You can't very well get into the Slytherin common room, and we don't have Potions again until next week." He glanced at Hermione worriedly. "I don't know what to tell you, mate."
Harry shook his head and paced back and forth. "I'll check the library," he decided. "If he isn't there, I'll try to find that Daphne girl he's always hanging around."
"And if you can't find Daphne?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, I don't know!" Harry fumed. "I'll find him. I don't know how, but I will."
A metallic taste ran through Harry's mouth as his teeth left the inside of his lower lip. "Damn it all to hell," he cursed when he realized he was bleeding, although mirroring the sentiments he had felt moment before. He had been unsuccessful at finding Blaise, and he'd been everywhere he could think of.
The library, the boy's bathroom, outside of the Slytherin common room…of course, he wasn't exactly sure where the Slytherin common room was. So he had loitered around the dungeons until Snape came by and told him the if he were to catch Harry out and about after curfew, he would have more to worry about than breaking up with Neville.
So now he was headed back to the Gryffindor common room, as curfew was fast approaching. And though he knew that the chance of Snape actually finding him breaking the rules in the upper levels of the castle was slim to none, he didn't fancy taking that chance.
"Tomorrow," he promised aloud, partially to himself and partially to Blaise. "I'll continue to look for you tomorrow."
Blaise awoke to Madam Pomfrey hovering over him, pressing a cool compress to his forehead. He smiled weakly at her, and she tutted that he should still be sleeping. "You need to get all the rest you can to recover," she admonished.
"Yes, ma'am," he agreed before dozing off to sleep once more.
A few hours later, Daphne stopped by but found him still asleep.
"Miss Greengrass," Madam Pomfrey greeted cordially as she directed a group of detention students to soiled bedpans that needed to be cleaned. "Mr. Zabini is still asleep, but if you come back around dinner time, I'm sure he'll be awake then."
Daphne nodded, but continued to stand beside Blaise's bed anyway. "Thanks," she said. Madam Pomfrey took that as her cue to leave and trotted back to her office.
"Hey, Blaise-y," Daphne told Blaise, smoothing the crisp bed sheets with her slim hands. "It's my lunch break now. I thought I'd come and check on you."
She waited for a response, but none came. She nodded and smiled slightly. "You're really out of it, huh?"
She smoothed the hair from his sweaty forehead.
"I'm expecting that Harry wanted to approach me during lunch," she continued, "Since I'm not there, I bet he's panicking as to what to do. You're nowhere to be found, I'm nowhere to be found. A bunch of loners, the two of us. Don't leave much of a trail." She joked, but the air stayed awkward.
Blaise stirred, but only to turn over onto his side. "Alright," Daphne said, "I'll leave you to sleep now. I just thought you'd like the update, even if you really can't hear me."
Blaise cracked an eye open. "Daph?" he asked sleepily.
Daphne grinned and replied, "Yes, Blaise-y?"
He yawned and closed his eye again. "Tell Harry where I am," he instructed.
"You sure?" Daphne asked, face a cross between worried and perplexed.
"Yeah," he repeated, rolling onto his back once more. His head tilted to he could look at her without holding up his head. "I'd like that very much."
"He's in the infirmary," Daphne told Harry bluntly, once she had walked into the Great Hall and straight to the Gryffindor table. She ignored the many stares she was receiving and focused her attention of the dark haired boy in front of her.
"Blaise is?" Harry breathed; hope exploiting the most recent stress contours of his face.
"Yes. He's sick," she explained.
"Is that why he went away?" Harry asked quietly, reminiscent of a child.
"Partially," she told him unsympathetically. She began to walk away.
"Wait!" Harry called. She stopped but didn't turn back to him.
When he realized that she wasn't going to turn around for more, he called out, "Thank you for telling me this."
And although he couldn't see it, Daphne's face held a small, self-satisfied smile.
"Daphne?" Hannah called as Daphne was about to leave the Great Hall.
Daphne spun around, surprise written all over her face. "Hannah?" Daphne answered, confused as to what her ex-girlfriend could possibly say to her now.
Hannah ran to her from the Hufflepuff table and engulfed her in a hug. She pressed her lips against the top of Daphne's head. "I'm so sorry," she murmured, tears leaking from the corners of her cornflower eyes.
Daphne sobbed into Hannah's chest, releasing all of the grief and confusion she had hidden away since the beginning of their relationship troubles. The two didn't care that they were attracting the attention of the student body, but held onto each other as if their lives were depending on it.
"Does this mean…?" Daphne dared to ask.
Hannah took Daphne's face into her hands and stared deep into her eyes. "I love you, Daphne Greengrass," she answered before kissing her softly.
Daphne melted into the taller girl's embrace. The two became one.
"Blaise?" Harry asked tentatively as he walked into the infirmary. When he saw Blaise lying on a cot, he hurried to his side. Eyes full of tears, he looked down upon the dark-skinned boy's face. Harry's hand cupped his cheek, thumb stroking high cheek bone.
Blaise stirred.
"Hi," Harry said softly as Blaise opened his eyes.
"So I behold my visions on the ground
No longer radiant, an ignoble heap
Of broken, dusty glass. And so, unlit,
Even by hope or faith, my dragging steps
Force me forever through the passing days," he quoted. He placed his hand over Harry's, who was still stroking his cheek. "Dreams are so cruel," he whispered as he leaned into Harry's touch.
"This isn't a dream," Harry told him.
"Do I really want this so bad that I have to summon up falsehoods?" Blaise asked himself, disgusted. "Am I really that much of a coward that I can't make my own happiness and instead have to dream of it?"
"Stop," Harry said. "This isn't a dream. It's real."
Blaise merely smiled and said, "If that's what you want, I'll be more than happy to oblige for however long this dream will last."
Harry drew his eyebrows together in frustration. "How can I make you realize that this isn't a dream?" he asked himself aloud.
Blaise didn't answer, but gazed at what he thought was a figment of his imagination.
Harry shuddered. "Your eyes are so beautiful," Blaise murmured. He let go of Harry's hand and reached for his glasses. He took them off of Harry and set them on the bedside table. "You should wear contacts," he informed him.
Harry leaned down towards Blaise. His lips hovered mere inches from the other boy's, parted and breathing heavily. He placed his two hands on either side of Blaise's head to support himself as he dipped down and captured Blaise's lips with his own.
Urgent, passionate nips were placed upon Harry's lips by a newly strong Blaise. He sat up and pulled Harry down onto the bed, Harry allowing himself to be led without any qualms.
When the two broke for air, Blaise asked sheepily, "This isn't a dream, is it?"
"No," Harry panted with glazed eyes.
Blaise pushed Harry back, away from his previous clutch on Blaise's shoulders. "We can't do this then. Not here," Blaise stated.
Harry moaned frustratedly. "I don't care about the niceties, Blaise," he said desperately.
Blaise would accept that choice. "I'm sick," he said practically. "And I'm pretty sure swapping saliva with someone is not the correct way for me to get better. I don't want you to catch what I have either."
"I won't," Harry told him, reaching back for Blaise's face.
Blaise stopped his hands. "No," he said firmly. He looked into Harry's eyes, and Harry looked away. Blaise took his hands and held Harry so he was forced to look him in the eye. "I'm going to do this right," Blaise insisted. "I'm going to treat you right."
Harry leaned into Blaise's chest, head resting on his collarbone, and Blaise held him. "Okay," Harry whispered.
Woo! Our boys are finally together!
Leave me some love. =D