Triumph. That was what Blaise felt as he slowly made his way through the castle. The sight of so many Hufflepuffs, typical when near the kitchens, failed to rouse his instinctual sneer. He wore his satisfied smile like a hard-earned badge, uncaring of the looks he was subject to.
As he crossed the threshold of the castle, it was as if the weather was celebrating with him. The sun shone high above, bathing the wide expanse of the grounds in its radiant glow. Blaise basked in the rays as he slowly made his way to the Lake. Even from the stone steps near the castle, it was clear that the Lake was incredibly busy. Teeming around the shoreline were students of every House, lounging around, studying or simply relaxing. Looking towards the horizon, he could make out several boats slowly bobbing around the far lake edge.
He spotted Daphne and Tracey by the time he'd passed the groundkeeper's hut. Daphne was sprawled across her signature emerald-green chaise longue. Tracey was sat beside her, cross-legged, in her velvet loveseat.
Looking up from her lazy position with a hand over her eyes, Daphne waved him over as he approached. "Well, Blaise. You really took your time."
"I had an unexpected conversation."
"About?"
Taking in the busy hustle of students mingling all around the Lake, Blaise just smiled enigmatically.
"Enough about that. Tell us you got it," Tracey said. She squealed in delight when he nodded. "Daphne, make us a nice table."
Blaise waited patiently for Daphne to conjure a low table before reaching into his pocket and unshrinking his haul. Eyeing the discreet green and silver trim along the table's edge with approval, he conjured a tablecloth and napkins to match the decor before levitating the assortment of desserts to make a tasteful spread. Like usual, the House-elves had went all-out: he'd only asked for their favourites, but they'd included every dessert they had in the kitchen.
Tracey smiled up at him, already reaching for a slice of her favourite Victoria sponge. "Thanks, Blaise."
Blaise squeezed in beside her, tapping his wand against the arm of the loveseat to widen it.
"The things I do for you two," he said drily, as if he was upset to have cannoli. "Errand boy and waiter."
"This is the life: Sun, scones and decent company," Daphne declared. She looked up from buttering her second scone to give them both a warm look of approval.
Coming from Daphne, it warmed him considerably.
Tracey gave Blaise a long look. "Hear that, Blaise?"
He nodded grimly, already knowing where she was going. "I did."
"We're only decent," she said. "Don't know about you, Blaise, but I'm amazing company."
"The best," he confirmed.
"Hush," Daphne said.
Neither of them commented on the faint blush on Daphne's cheeks.
"So, Blaise. What took you so long?" Tracey asked. "I'm guessing by your goofy smile that it's Harry. Something good?"
Even to his ears, his voice practically dripped with satisfaction. "We'll see. I'm hopeful."
"You've finally admitted to each other what everyone can see?" Daphne asked. "I hope this means I don't have to watch you two pining for each other from afar any longer."
It was galling to have it put like that, but it had just taken Blaise seeing Harry in Flitwick's detention to make it all clear. He'd been denying his attraction to Harry, but the sight of him after days of avoiding him had made him weak. He'd never felt this way about someone before. If someone had told him two or three weeks ago that he'd have a deep admiration and attraction to Harry Potter, he'd have questioned their sanity. Vehemently.
"You're finally invested in this, Daph?" Tracey asked. She tilted her head in question at Daphne. "Weren't you telling me on Thursday that Blaise and Harry would be disastrous?"
Blaise just closed his eyes, feeling another character assassination coming on. He held his tongue though. Perhaps there was something he could possibly learn; he hadn't even been a good friend to Tracey prior to getting involved with Harry, so he couldn't even outright say that Daphne had been making faulty assumptions.
Daphne nodded. "I'd been operating under the assumption that Blaise's involvement with Harry would be disastrous, but after the detention with Flitwick – "
"What do you mean by disaster?" Blaise asked.
Tracey scoffed. "Please, Blaise. We all know about your pump and dump tendencies."
Blaise shook his head, looking at the ground with utmost determination. He had to fight not to smirk. "I prefer come and go actually."
Tracey snickered, and he hid his own grin by taking a bite of his cannoli.
Daphne threw a Stinging Hex at him, and he yelped. "Fuck, Daphne!"
Nursing his aching forearm with a hiss, he glared at her knowing he'd be feeling this one for hours. Her Stinging Hexes always left him feeling like he'd been burnt.
"Language," she said. With the levelness of her voice, Blaise could almost believe she'd simply chastised him. "And don't celebrate your loose ways. It's unbecoming."
Blaise cleared his throat, hoping to communicate amused scepticism. It may be a far from charitable description of his history, but it was what it was.
"Let's say you're right," Blaise said. "What's wrong with my pump and dump tendencies anyway?"
Tracey ignored his sarcastic jibe, choosing to take him seriously. "Blaise, the last thing we need is for you to break Harry's heart. It'd be horribly anticlimactic if the Dark Lord killed him while he's sobbing into a handkerchief."
He snorted at the visual. "Fair enough, but I don't think it'll be the same with Harry."
It was largely Blaise's own fault that he hadn't felt any real connection to the people he'd half-heartedly dated or hooked up with in the past. He'd actively kept himself detached, as sex had been all he was looking for. Harry was far too precious to him for Blaise to even consider treating him in such a way.
"You're willing to actually commit?" Daphne asked.
"For him, definitely," Blaise said. Admitting the truth was far easier than he'd expected. "I care about him a lot."
Tracey squinted at him in disbelief, as if he had just spoken in tongues.
"As we've gathered," Daphne said, and she looked up at him after finishing her scones, warmth in her blue eyes. "I'm proud of you, Blaise. You've come a long way these last two weeks."
If Blaise wasn't dark-skinned, he was sure he'd be visibly blushing. Still, he batted off any signs of embarrassment with an easy smile. "Had to start growing up someday."
Daphne nodded approvingly and she then returned to her scones. As he reached for another cannoli, he took notice of the frown on Tracey's face.
"Blaise is on the verge of being all lovey-dovey with Harry and Daphne is being all emotional," Tracey said. "Everything's getting weird."
With graceful poise, Daphne dabbed at her mouth with a napkin before reaching for her wand. She pointed it at Tracey, not even bothering to sit upright.
"Tracey, it's been a while since you've acted up, so I do have to ask: are you asking me to turn your ears into feet?"
Blaise laughed as Tracey sighed in relief.
"Thank God," Tracey said. "That sounds more like something you'd say. Goodbye crazy fever dream."
"Is that an invitation for Daphne then? For the purpose of returning things to normal, of course," Blaise said.
Daphne just shook her head at the two of them, a tiny smile on her lips. "I'll be lenient this time."
She sat upright, smoothed down her skirt and looked seriously at them both. "Anyway, after Harry let slip that he can apparently cast Mastery-level Warding magic, I'm quite interested in seeing what else he can do."
As impressed as Blaise had been with the ward, he'd also been amused at how oblivious Harry was to how incredible a feat it was. Like Daphne, Blaise was curious about what else he was capable of and to the extent to which he'd been limiting himself. Blaise had felt the massive flow of magic that Harry fed into the spell, and it had left him breathless in his disbelief. He'd have likely been stuck in a state of awe for the rest of the "detention" if not for the hurt in Harry's expression in the wake of Hermione and Ron's stint of jealousy. It had just made Blaise want to take him in his arms and hold him. He'd never felt so inclined to tenderness, and it had all just resulted in him being unable to help himself near the Kitchens.
"He's pretty powerful," Tracey said.
"Exactly," Daphne said. "It's good to see he's taken us somewhat seriously."
"No wonder you were so nice to him," Blaise said. "Might makes right, huh?"
Daphne nodded, unashamed. "More-or-less. He seems the protective type, so Blaise will do a good job of being someone for him to protect."
"When exactly did I become a damsel in distress?"
Tracey and Daphne shared a long-suffering look.
"Around the time that Malfoy almost turned you into the intellectual equal of Crabbe and Goyle," Daphne said.
Blaise swallowed down his anger at the reminder. Snape had more than impressed on him how stupid he'd been in DADA, and the message had been doubly effective now he knew that Dumbledore and Snape weren't taking the situation with Draco seriously. He needed to look out for himself and his own.
"That isn't going to happen again," Blaise said, deadly serious.
Whether Daphne and Tracey believed him was irrelevant because Blaise was adamant that he'd never be caught off-guard like that again. If Harry was going to choose him, he couldn't afford to be a liability.
Breakfast was met with a great deal of unbidden anticipation by Blaise. As he walked into the Great Hall, earlier than the official start of breakfast, he focused on the quiet murmur of conversation throughout the hall of other early risers to prevent himself staring at the entrance for Harry's appearance. He should have at least been drafting his letter to his mother, but his brain was racing far too much for him to prepare for that arduous task.
Daphne appeared not too long after his arrival with Tori in tow, but Tori elected to go and sit with her year-mates.
"Good morning, Daphne," Blaise said as she sat across from him.
She nodded, looking bleary-eyed as she always did when she bothered to come to breakfast. "Good morning."
With a quiet pop, cutlery and pitchers of pumpkin juice and tea appeared along the tables, and seconds later they were joined by an assortment of breakfast items. In a comfortable silence, they began to dish food onto their plates.
"Morning," a voice called to them both.
He recognised the voice immediately, but it was still a massive surprise when Harry slid onto the bench next to Blaise. At the bump of Harry's thigh against his own, it was a Herculean struggle for Blaise to not wrap an arm around his waist to pull him closer. Knowing what his appearance signified, it was impossible for Blaise to hold back his smile. He completely ignored breakfast and focused on the Gryffindor who'd been consuming his every thought.
"It's a very good morning now you're here," Blaise said, looking intently at Harry.
Daphne tore her gaze from porridge with a jerk at his warm tone. She took in the sight of he and Harry smiling stupidly at each other and, going by her sudden wince, it must have been a little too early for her to put up with.
Blaise didn't give a shit.
"Good morning," she eventually said.
"Hey, Daphne," Harry said with a pleasant smile.
Blaise considered taking in the situation as being surreal, but he decided he quite liked it. After all, the sight of a Gryffindor tie had never been more alluring to him than now. He was already brainstorming ways to make Harry a frequent visitor to their part of the table. Daphne, going by the tight pinch of her face, was not as convinced.
"Being impulsive again?" Blaise asked. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I can't blame you. It must be difficult having to just watch me from afar at the Gryffindor table."
Blaise chuckled at Harry's blush.
"Maybe just a little," he admitted without shame. He grinned at Blaise, charming and shy in equal measure. "I'm hoping to do more than watching in the future."
Blaise perked up at that, mind racing with the possibilities. "You say the sweetest things, Harry."
Daphne groaned. Blaise gave her a brief askance look, not even knowing that it was possible for her to make such a noise.
"Can you two flirt a little less obviously? And less sappily?" She demanded in a low voice.
They both ignored her. Blaise was far too taken with Harry's cheeky smile, but he needed to be a little more realistic. If he'd broken up with Weasley, there was likely to be trouble on the horizon from his friends. It hit him like a bolt of lightning; Harry was most likely at their table to avoid them.
Blaise sighed as he raised a privacy ward, shaping it so that Daphne, on the other side of the table, could still hear. It was horrendous table manners, but he hoped Daphne could forgive him this once. Going by the deep furrow of her brows, he may need to consider grovelling in the immediate future.
"Your friends, Harry," he said in a low, earnest voice. "How are they taking it? Are you okay?"
The cheeky confidence he'd oozed while sitting with them evaporated, and he seemed to crumple on himself. Daphne abandoned her cold disdain of their behaviour, and she gave them her full attention.
"I told her everything. I thought she was going to curse me, but she told me to leave when she started crying. I went to the Library for a bit, and when I came back, I guess she told some people," Harry said, pausing to briefly sip at his pumpkin juice. With the sounds of their surroundings heavily muted, Blaise could pick up on some hoarseness to his voice.
Harry's face twisted uncomfortably as he continued. "Ron's livid – fairly sure the Quidditch high was the only thing stopping him from actually cursing me. Hermione… I think she understands more than she's letting on, but she's still pissed. Everyone else was just treating it like a spectator sport, as you can imagine."
He let them draw their own conclusions as to what had happened, and it was easy for Blaise to imagine. Harry returning to the Common Room and getting into a massive shouting match with Ron, Hermione trying ineffectually to calm down tempers, and uncomfortable things being said. Blaise was half-tempted to ask what they'd said about him, half out of morbid curiosity and the other humour, but the defeat in Harry's body language was too devastating for him to even seriously consider it.
Blaise had never wanted to kiss someone so bad, but he settled for taking Harry's hand in his under the table. It was a great relief when Harry's fingers laced tightly with his own, squeezing him gently as he did so.
"I'm sorry," he offered. It was an empty platitude, as he wasn't particularly sorry about anything that happened. Wanting desperately to cheer Harry up, he squeezed his hand back. "You don't deserve to be treated like that."
"The worst part is I don't regret it," Harry muttered. He poked at his bacon listlessly. "I feel bad for Ginny and all, but I just want to be allowed to be selfish for once."
Daphne rubbed at her eyes, but she managed to muster a weak smile at Harry. "If it means anything Harry, you have mine and Tracey's support."
"Thanks," Harry said. "I appreciate it."
"They'll come around," Daphne said. "I'm sure of it. They'd be foolish not to."
With the calm in her voice, Blaise could almost believe she was reciting a commonly held truth. He hoped she was right for Harry's sake, but he was far more hesitant. Maybe it was the cynic in him, but Blaise wasn't expecting much in the way of charitable reception of their relationship. Weasley, as little as he thought of her, was incredibly popular in the school. Regardless, none of it would stop him at this point.
He was on the cusp of getting what he wanted. The only thing that could ruin his good mood was Draco making a sudden reappearance, and he'd disappeared more thoroughly than ever in the last few days. Still, Blaise would make him rue the day he was born.
"I sure hope so," Harry said in the long silence.
Taking in Harry's cautious gaze as he took inventory of the unwelcome faces starting to take the seats next to them, Blaise glared coldly at all their failing eavesdroppers.
He dropped the ward.
"I can't really blame you for joining us, Harry," Blaise said, projecting his voice more than necessary. "Slytherin is where it's at, and if anyone thinks to act in a way to make Harry think otherwise, you will regret it."
"You heard him," Daphne confirmed.
With less direct attention on them, Blaise turned back to Harry. He was staring at him intensely with the beginnings of a wry smile on his face. "I can handle myself, you know."
Blaise smirked at him, enjoying how predictable his reaction was. He had no intention of babying Harry, but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to try and make things easier for him where he could.
"Of course you can," he said. "You'd wipe the floor with them, but that doesn't mean I can't make it clear to them that harming you wouldn't be good for their health."
"Starting to feel you might have a scary side," Harry said.
Remembering his emotional outbursts in the last couple of days, Blaise was inclined to agree.
"McGonagall doesn't seem too pleased," Daphne remarked.
Slughorn gave them a warm smile when they turned to face the staff table, but McGonagall and Snape were watching them like hawks, mirroring faces of disapproval.
"I wonder how McGonagall and Snape would react if I let them know I was almost sorted into Slytherin," Harry said.
Blaise stared at him, approval blooming in his chest. "I knew I got the best Gryffindor of the bunch."
"Blaise was almost sorted into Ravenclaw, and I was almost sorted into Hufflepuff," Daphne said. "We just need Tracey to have almost been sorted into Gryffindor to complete the set."
Blaise had a cruel jibe on his tongue at the word Hufflepuff, but he swallowed it down. He thought on how Daphne was a stickler for principles, how she was loyal to Tracey to the point of violence, and her maternal flavour of encouragement. It may be his growing hatred of Hogwarts leaking into everything, but he was starting to feel like Sorting did more harm than good. There was nothing wrong with being loyal and industrious while also being cunning and ambitious. Why pigeon-hole eleven-year olds?
"You can keep Tracey," Harry said after clearly taking a moment to digest the idea of a Hufflepuff Daphne.
"Oh no, Harry," Blaise murmured huskily. "We're going to be keeping you."
He buried his delight at Harry's surprise under a mask of smugness.
"You two are disgusting. Especially you, Blaise," Daphne said. She groaned again and refilled her goblet of tea. "If only Tracey wasn't a literal sloth."
"I guess I'll be keeping you, Harry," Blaise said. "No complaints from me."
"None here either," Harry said with a laugh. "What about the rest of your House?"
Blaise didn't look at his housemates, knowing their disapproval was practically physically palpable. His eyes were already focused on the sight of Weasley entering the Great Hall when he speaks. "They likely have many complaints, but at this point I don't care. I'm just sick of people getting in the way."
Even with a gaggle of Gryffindor girls at her side, she looked desolate. There was none of her usual bravado in her stance, none of her easy confidence. He was half-talking about himself in the moment, increasingly aware that his stoicism and apathy have been obstacles. If Daphne caught it, she gave nothing away. Harry was visibly sympathetic, likely feeling the same way.
"When is your little Defence group meeting?" Blaise asked.
Harry nodded. "Tonight at seven. Sixth floor, third abandoned classroom on the right corridor in the East Wing, if either of you want to come."
"I think we'll take you up on your offer," Blaise said, looking significantly at Daphne, daring her to disagree. She met his eyes as she took a copy of the Prophet from a nearby owl, slipping it a couple of Knuts, before simply giving him a nod. The front page was a large spread detailing Auror mobilisation throughout the south of England, but Blaise could make out a tiny box in the bottom right with the headline of 'Family of six missing'. It was hard to remember at times that things were falling apart outside the walls of Hogwarts.
"Great," Harry said. His smile faltered at the sight of his friends entering the Hall, and he moved to get up. "I can't hide forever. I'll see you two later."
Blaise hid his dejection well, but his voice still rang with disappointment. "You're free to sit with me in DADA and Potions."
"I think I'll take you up on that," he said, and with that, he was off.
Blaise watched him leave. If not for Daphne's sudden cold eyes, he'd not have noticed Urquhart stalking down the table towards them. Perhaps in another life he'd have been intimidated by the sight of Urquhart glaring at him. In typical Slytherin Quidditch team fashion, he was built like a tank, but Blaise was distinctly unimpressed. He'd never liked his burly captain. With Malfoy having practically funded the team, they couldn't exactly mock him for his slim physique, so he along with Flint had taken great pains in mocking Blaise's lean build when he'd been reserve Chaser until this year.
"Zabini, you do know – "
"Not now, Urquhart," Daphne said, interrupting him without looking up from her copy of the Prophet. Her voice was silky smooth, but even Urquhart could hear the danger. "If you have any problems with who we associate with, you can broach the subject in the Slytherin Common Room like a proper Slytherin."
"No guarantees we'll give a damn," Blaise added.
With a final glower, Urquhart went back to his seat, coincidentally next to Parkinson. Another source of trouble.
"You're going to need to be very careful, Blaise," Daphne said, deadly serious. "I'm willing to help you, but I don't have eyes out of the back of my head."
Before Blaise could respond, Tracey appeared out of nowhere, frantically combing her wet-looking hair and looking more than a little frazzled. She took the seat that Harry had vacated.
"Morning, loves," she said cheerfully. Taking in their sombre expressions, she toned down her perkiness a tad. "What'd I miss?"
They filled her in. She nodded when needed, smiled brilliantly at Daphne when she recounted Blaise and Harry's horrible flirting, and she was appropriately serious at the potential trouble their House posed.
"In short, we're playing a dangerous game," Daphne said.
"I expected nothing less," Tracey said. Rather than sounding scared or nervous at the prospect, Blaise thought she sounded rather excited. "I'm just increasingly surprised at how on board you are, Daph."
Daphne just smiled without humour. "Blaise has elected to take giant leaps instead of baby steps, and I'd like to help him cultivate and protect his newly acquired spine."
It stung, but it was a major insight into Daphne's comment about not liking him much not even a week ago. "I was that bad?"
Tracey wrapped her arm around him, a soft smile on her face. "We were prepared to be very patient."
Retrieving a quill from her bag, Daphne began writing across the back page of the Prophet. Blaise watched, a question on his lips, as she ripped off the page and passed it to him.
"Send this to Shafiq," she told him. "I'll need to speak to Fawley, Farley and Rosier privately at some point."
Wracking his brain, Blaise was sure that Shafiq was the Head Boy, a Ravenclaw. Fawley; everyone knew him. He was the crazy Hufflepuff who'd set the boathouse on fire last year during Umbridge's reign of terror. Farley had to be a reference to Sebastian Farley, Gemma Farley's younger brother, and Rosier must be Daphne's maternal cousin Antoine Rosier. They were all seventh years.
"Daphne, whatever happened to you being a reluctant E?" Blaise asked.
Tracey shared a smile with him. "I think we can consider her revised to a cautious O."
Daphne took a long sip of her tea.
"I'll allow you to think that," Daphne said. "Send the message, Blaise."
With a tap of his wand, the page turned into an origami pigeon. It bounced excitedly on the table before he sent it off soaring gracefully towards the Ravenclaw table, homing in on a dark-skinned boy with slicked-back hair and a strong nose. He was sat with Padma, Goldstein and several other Ravenclaws he knew to be prefects. Typical.
Blaise watched as his pigeon landed on the table in front of them, rocking frantically in Shafiq's direction. He took it, reading the message and shooing his nosy housemates. Blaise stared unabashedly as the Ravenclaw half-ran over to them.
"Ah, Daphne and Potter's pet Slytherins," the Ravenclaw said, and his dark eyes glittered with humour as he took in Blaise and Tracey's cool look in reaction. "Amir Shafiq. Charmed and all that."
It was only the Head Boy badge on Shafiq's uniform that cooled his response. The last thing he needed was to antagonise another student likely prone to power trips.
"Pet Slytherin?" Blaise repeated blandly. "Careful there, Shafiq. Without Potter here, I might be inclined to bite."
"I, on the other hand, have no such restrictions," Tracey said.
Snatching a slice of toast from Daphne's plate, Shafiq just smiled pleasantly at her, ignoring Blaise and Tracey completely. Blaise would have been offended, if he wasn't gobsmacked by Shafiq's audacity. Stealing food from Daphne was beyond ballsy.
Interestingly, Daphne didn't even react as Shafiq sat next to her.
"It's been a while, Daphne. How've you been doing?" Shafiq asked, eyes only for her.
"Surviving. Plotting. The usual, Amir," Daphne said.
Eyeing the two of them, Daphne in particular, Blaise was quite curious. She was far from a blushing violet, but she was being remarkably casual with him.
"You two aren't betrothed are you?" Blaise asked.
Shafiq choked on his food. "No!"
"Don't be ridiculous," Daphne snapped.
"He stole food from you," Blaise explained patiently. "You don't even let Tracey do that, and you two are practically joined at the hip."
He barely managed to block the Stinging Hex she sent his way. Instead of glaring at Daphne, he watched Shafiq, noticing the way his eyes were bright at Blaise's admission. In that moment, Blaise understood completely. It was just he'd had no idea Daphne had an admirer. Daphne had always struck him as the type to be too scary to have admirers.
"That's beside the point," Daphne snapped.
Tracey and Blaise shared a long look that was only halted by the sight of Daphne's going for her wand again.
With her face filled with bewildered amusement, Tracey turned to Shafiq. "So, how do you know each other?"
"Daphne and I go way back," Shafiq said. His tone was markedly more pleasant, likely seeing an ally in his quest to win over Daphne. "Our fathers have been business partners for decades."
"Ah, you do Pureblood stuff together over the summers," Tracey said wisely.
He shrugged. "Yeah."
"Harry is hosting a defence class tonight," Daphne said, giving Tracey a warning look. "Come along. Bring your friends."
Shafiq stole another slice of toast from Daphne, and she didn't even blink.
"I know," he said. "Padma and Anthony were telling me about it. I'm sure Potter's a marvellous teacher, but I'm not sure what's in it for me."
Daphne rolled her eyes. "I'll go with you to Hogsmeade on Saturday."
Shafiq exhaled harshly, seeming blown away at Daphne's easy agreement.
"I'll see you all tonight then," Shafiq said rather throatily.
He gave Daphne a final wink, a nod to Blaise and Tracey, and returned to Ravenclaw. As they watched him depart, Padma gave Blaise a long, conspiratorial smile that gave him the impression he'd be subjected to another interrogation very soon.
"What was that?" Tracey demanded when he was long gone.
Daphne sighed. "My father has been hinting that he wants to marry either me or Astoria off, so I may as well start looking for a boyfriend. Better him than someone like Nott or Urquhart."
"You make it sound so business-like," Tracey murmured. To a romantic like Tracey, Daphne's pragmatic approach to relationships was sacrilege to the highest order. Blaise wouldn't say he was a romantic, but he could more than sympathise with Tracey's viewpoint what with his feelings for Harry.
"At least he seems to like you," Blaise said, remembering Shafiq's easy smiles at Daphne. "He seems persistent."
Daphne just smiled. Neither of them was foolish enough to comment on the blush Daphne had. In fact, Blaise wasn't even sure she was aware of it.
Harry had joined him for Potions, but he had opted to sit with Longbottom during DADA. Ron had been glaring at him throughout the majority of both classes, but Blaise ignored him easily, knowing that he wasn't stupid enough to do something that would likely make both his girlfriend and Harry angry.
He, Daphne and Tracey approached the classroom for Harry's Defence club, hoping to be some of the last ones in. It was one of the larger classrooms, a relic from when Hogwarts had a much larger student-base. Despite that, it was packed and alive with conversation. Blaise recognised almost everyone in their year bar the other Slytherins and a number of fifth and seventh years. There were maybe sixty students in all.
Harry and Hermione were stood at the front of the class. They didn't seem to be on the outs, seeming relatively comfortable with each other, murmuring quietly to each other. Blaise couldn't find a single sign of Ron or Weasley which didn't bode well. Susan gave him a friendly wave from her corner of the room which he returned.
"Ah, Blaise," Padma said promptly, appearing from nowhere. "We have much to discuss."
Her entourage included Terry, who blushed a little when they made eye contact, and Anthony who gave him a nod which he returned.
Just as he was about to misdirect, Harry's amplified voice rang throughout the powerful acoustics of the room.
"I wasn't expecting so many people," Harry said. He surveyed the room, a warm grin on his face. "I'm really pleased that everyone was keen to get the DA started again. I'm not going to waste time with a speech, so let's all pair up with someone from a different House. Preferably someone you don't know. You'll find that today's session will focus on breaking down barriers."
Hermione groaned beside him, but Harry smiled unrepentantly at his little joke. Blaise was far too curious as to what his wordplay entailed.
He was no longer curious. For the fourth time in the last five minutes, Blaise wondered what he'd done to deserve this.
"Expelliarmus!" Longbottom cried.
Blaise managed to block it with his silent Shield Charm, but the force of Longbottom's Disarming Charm colliding with his translucent shield almost threw him off his feet.
"Christ," Blaise spat once he'd gotten his footing. "What do they feed you in that Tower?"
Longbottom just smiled thinly at him, with no sign of humour. Blaise was half-convinced that Longbottom was trying to punish him for ruining Harry and Ginny's relationship, but at the end of the day it didn't matter. This was an opportunity to improve his Shield Charm, and he would take it. There were eyes on him, and he knew that his performance reflected not just on himself, but also on his housemates, and on Harry.
By the end of the session, Blaise wouldn't say that he'd be handing Longbottom's arse to him any time soon, but he could at least block his Disarming Charm without feeling like he got hit by a Bludger. He had so much work to do if he wanted to get anywhere near Harry's ability; he and Shafiq had been paired up, and like he'd done with Snape, he'd sent him to the floor multiple times with his Shield Charm.
Blaise loitered around as people slowly left the room, offering Harry sincere thanks for reviving his defence group. Daphne and Shafiq left together, talking intently. He managed to catch the tail-end of Tracey and Thomas' conversation as they too left at the same time. Like the fanatic she was, Tracey was preaching to the pleasantly sceptical Thomas that Wenger would turn Arsenal's fortunes around. If he remembered correctly, Thomas was an avid West Ham fan. As far as Blaise was concerned, they were both deluded. Chelsea were the team, but he wasn't foolish enough to say that aloud and end up with two football fanatics at his throat. One was enough.
Once it was just them, Blaise threw the strongest sealing charms he knew at the door. He levitated a bookcase towards the door as a barricade and, for good measure, cast a Strengthening Charm to reinforce the bookcase. He probably looked crazy, but he was sick of waiting.
Harry leaned against a table, a wide smirk on his face, as he watched Blaise approach him.
"So, what did you think?"
Blaise smirked back. "Pretty good. I was a little surprised that we'd be practicing the Disarming and Shield Charms, but Longbottom definitely put me through my paces."
"Just means you got some good practice," Harry murmured, looking up at Blaise as he came to a stop in front of him. "I asked him to pair with you. It's easy to get a fully realized Shield Charm, but to create a shield worth a damn is the tricky part. I hope it was helpful."
Blaise considered Harry's motivations for pairing him with Longbottom, but decided it wasn't important. At least not now. He wrapped his arm around Harry's waist.
"I hope you don't mind, Harry," Blaise said. His hand rested on the small of Harry's back, and he leaned forward. With Harry's face filling his vision, a warm smile on his face, Blaise accepted that he would wait no longer. "I've wanted to do this for a while."
As Harry's soft lips met his, Blaise released every shackle he'd ever imposed on himself, losing himself in the moment. It was easy to fall under the tide of passion when he'd never felt this way before. As Harry threaded a hand in his hair, pulling him into the cradle of his legs, Blaise brought his free hand to Harry's cheek. Their kiss deepened and when Harry opened his mouth to accept his questing tongue, Blaise moaned low in his throat. When they finally parted, both gasping, Blaise couldn't help but embrace Harry. Every kiss before this one simply paled in comparison.
"Wow," Harry mumbled.
Blaise couldn't even think of something snide to say. "Wow indeed."
They wasted no time in repeating the experience. Blaise felt like an octopus with how his hands groped all over Harry's body, enjoying Harry's every groan when he found a particularly sensitive spot.
"You like my greedy hands, don't you?" Blaise murmured against Harry's lips. His green eyes fluttered as Blaise stole his breath once more with a long smooch.
"Maybe a little," Harry admitted.
"Just a little?" Blaise asked.
With a delicate touch, he palmed Harry's arse through his uniform. It had a nice shape, and as Blaise admired it with idle caresses and squeezes, he kissed idly at Harry's neck, chasing the flush spreading across Harry's skin. Every gasp that escaped him as Blaise touched him was a gift. It was almost enough to make him forget his own arousal, throbbing incessantly under his uniform.
Wanting to feel the touch of Harry's body against his own, Blaise pulled Harry further into him.
"Do you want me, Harry?" Blaise murmured against his lips.
It was a bit daring, but the want coursing through his veins was enough to make him take this leap of faith. Taking Harry's hand in his own, he brought it into his trousers, trailing the work-calloused fingers of the Gryffindor across his pubic hair. Harry jolted against him when he took his hand to its inevitable destination, wrapped tightly around the thick curve of his erection.
"I want you," he whispered. "Bad."
Harry smirked up at him, and Blaise found himself, once again, praising undue Gryffindor bravery. For someone who didn't seem to have been into the same sex, Harry was coping pretty well. Harry's hand ghosted up and around Blaise's cock with a leisurely ease that made Blaise grunt, while his other hand toyed with the bulge in his own trousers.
"I can tell," Harry said smoothly.
Blaise would have thought Harry was unaffected by his potential overstep if not for his heavy breathing. The slow caress of Harry's thumb against the head of his cock threatened to drive him crazy.
Seemingly determined to continue to surprise Blaise, Harry stopped his ministrations and started undoing his own zipper. Blaise followed his lead.
Harry had a nice cock. It was of a decent size, average lengthwise but with some girth. Blaise would be quite happy to suck it, but he didn't want to go too far. Now that he had Harry where he wanted him, he didn't want to scare him off.
"You're pretty big," Harry remarked.
Blaise was very tempted to say he had a trouser snake worthy of his House, but he was hyper aware of the possibility of ruining the mood. He instead settled for drawing Harry in for a kiss, both of them moaning as their lengths brushed against each other.
Harry's hand encircled them both, pressing their lengths together. They both took a moment to watch as his hand worked them both, corkscrewing up and sliding down. They shared a low hiss when he squeezed their bases in turn.
"What do you want out of this, Blaise?" He asked in a low tone.
"Any chance we can have this conversation later and without your hand on my cock?"
Harry took his sarcastic question as a challenge, and with a smirk, he simply squeezed them again. Mischief reigned in his eyes when Blaise failed to muffle his stifled moan. Harry simply continued his slow strokes along them both. It was a fight for Blaise to keep eye contact and not stare enamoured at the play of his hands.
"No time like the present," Harry said.
"Gryffindors," Blaise said, fond beyond imagination. "I want something serious."
Harry smiled at him. "As do I."
"We'll take it as slow as you want," Blaise said.
Harry nodded. "And how slow do you want to go?"
Blaise thought of what he'd have done if Harry had been Terry or Smith. This conversation wouldn't be happening, and Harry would have been long bent over the table.
"I'll be honest," he said. "All the other boys I've been with, I'd probably be fucking them at this point. I wasn't interested in them, so I can't tell you what slow would entail."
Harry visibly swallowed a bit at Blaise's crude honesty.
"I can't say I have much experience either. My dating history is laughable," Harry admitted. "Let's play it by ear."
Under the care of Harry's diligent hands, Blaise came first, dirtying them both as he released in waves, feeling the jolt of orgasm from the base of his spine to his stomach. Once he caught his breath, he moved Harry's hand out of the way, and slowly stroked him to completion, staring deeply into his eyes as he did. It was extremely intense, but the sight of Harry gasping and whining in his pleasure was captivating. His own release more so.
Blaise vanished the mess on their clothes without a word.
"It was never like this with Ginny," Harry muttered.
Blaise barely heard it, and he considered just ignoring it entirely, but he'd learnt that ignoring his problems, pretending that they didn't exist, didn't help him at all.
He sighed. "In what way?"
"It was all very… mechanical with Ginny," he said, frowning. "Am I gay?"
Blaise wasn't entirely sure how to tackle the conversation, so he just addressed what he felt was the heart of the matter. "Should it change anything if you're gay or not?"
Harry shook his head. "I guess not. I thought I liked girls, but it was never like this."
"Maybe you do like girls, but now you've found a boy," Blaise said.
He smirked and wiggled his hips from side to side. If Harry's eyes followed his half-hard cock more than his face, Blaise didn't comment. They were both attractive, after all.
"The best boy, by the way," Blaise said.
"Best boy?"
He gestured towards himself proudly. "It's okay to be attracted to the best of the bunch. You're a Blaise-sexual."
He couldn't help grinning at the sight of Harry's befuddled expression. "It's the right choice. Believe me."
Harry stared at him as they both zipped up their trousers and made themselves decent.
"I'm a Blaise-sexual," he repeated, tone completely flat.
"That's the spirit," Blaise said, and he clapped Harry on the back. "Accept your newfound sexuality."
"You're so full of yourself," Harry said with a groan, though there was no denying his amused smile.
That was good enough for Blaise. The way he saw it: he did enough introspection for the both of them. He quickly removed the barricade and reversed his spellwork.
"Well, soon enough you'll be full of me too," Blaise said. He relished Harry's violent blush when he patted his arse far too much. "I'm told it's a life-altering experience, so we'll see if you're complaining then."
They walked companionably towards the Grand Staircase, trading cheerful banter as they walked. Blaise stopped him before he headed upstairs to the Gryffindor Common Room.
"The password to the Slytherin Common Room is rhetoric. I'm in the first room on the left and my viola will be at the foot of my bed on an ottoman. If things are insufferable up there," he said.
Harry took the invitation for what it was, smiling at him before heading up the Grand Staircase.
Blaise was on the cusp of falling asleep when the curtains of his bed were slowly opened. He snatched his wand, conjuring bluebell flames into his spare hand, already having several spells on his lips.
"Easy," came Harry's familiar voice.
Blaise let go of the breath he didn't know he was holding, and he conjured a glass to place the incandescent flames into, placing it on his bedside table.
"I was starting to think you weren't coming," Blaise whispered.
Harry muttered the incantation for that stupidly useful privacy ward he knew.
"Your part of the dorm wasn't what I was expecting," Harry said as he slid onto the bed next to him and closed the curtains of his fourposter behind him. "It's very… homey."
Blaise wondered what he meant by that. "What do you mean?"
His first instinct was the overhead bookcase he'd fit below the window behind his bed. It could also be the ottoman at the foot of his bed, or the miniature wardrobes embedded into the sides. Now that he thought about it, he did have quite a good setup.
"I practically live out of my suitcase in Gryffindor," Harry said.
Blaise squinted quizzically at him. "Why? What was stopping you from, you know, using magic to modify your bed?"
Harry stared at him, visibly taken aback. "You're allowed to do that?"
Blaise sighed. He reminded himself that his Gryffindor was the best of the common-sense lacking bunch, and he felt an unbidden, sappy smile cross his lips.
"You're meant to do that," Blaise said. "Well, at least in Slytherin you're expected to. Forget my House. Can you imagine me riffling through my suitcase for a pair of socks?"
Harry lifted an eyebrow at him. "Why not?"
"I'm not some barbarian," Blaise said.
They chuckled together.
Harry shed his nightshirt as he did so, revealing his pale skin in the dim light. Admiring the sight and contrast of Harry's broad shoulders and slim build, it was hard for Blaise to connect Harry to the waif-like boy he'd been in fourth year. He'd certainly grown a lot in the last two years, though he'd never be truly tall. Thinking back to the fragments he'd heard of the Dursleys, Blaise felt his hatred of Dumbledore intensify even further.
Blaise beckoned him to join him under the sheets by lifting them up, exposing his own mostly nude body. Harry hesitated for a moment, eyes lingering on the toned muscles of his abdomen, but he slid in and pulled Blaise into a kiss.
"So, where's all the cosmetics that you use," Harry joked.
Blaise shook his head. "There are charms for all of that."
"I'll take your word for it, princess," Harry said.
Blaise snorted, already knowing that this is going to become a thing. "I welcome you to my bed and you insult me. I should send you back."
"Don't kick me out," he said, and he buried his face in Blaise's shoulder. "You're so warm."
"You get really good at Warming Charms in Slytherin," Blaise said. "The alternative is drowning in blankets or freezing."
They took a moment to enjoy the ambience, the shared body heat. It almost made the thunderous rumbling of Crabbe's snoring manageable.
"Everything okay in Gryffindor?" Blaise eventually mumbled.
"It's as you can expect – most people are nice to my face and gossip when my back is turned. Neville's good. Dean and Seamus think I'm a joke. Hermione is waiting for me to likely go to her and explain, but it's hard for me to consider it. She's been nagging and nagging since Friday whenever I try and practice some spellwork in private. If not for Quidditch celebrations distracting her over the weekend, she'd have never stopped," Harry said. Blaise felt him frown against him as he continued. "It's either 'Harry, you shouldn't practice such dangerous magic alone' or 'Harry, you should be careful when trying spells you don't know.'"
Blaise couldn't even stop to dwell on the fact that Harry hadn't brought up Ron, as the thought of the ward Harry had cast backfiring on him sent a sinking feeling to Blaise's stomach. Wrapping his arms around Harry and pulling him even closer helped to dispel most of his unease.
"She cares for you in her incredibly obtuse way," Blaise mumbled. "I can see how it'd be annoying, but you should still be careful."
Harry acknowledged him with a hum.
"Promise me one thing, Harry."
Harry yawned into his fist. "Hm?"
"Don't let Ron, Hermione…" Blaise said, and he stopped to stifle a yawn also. "Don't let anyone limit you."
He felt Harry nod against his shoulder, and pleased, he closed his eyes. They fell asleep entwined.