The evening was well underway when Harry returned to Zabini Manor. The Cullens, with the exception of Jasper, were chatting in the parlor, while Blaise was busy alone in the kitchen.
"Don't you have an elf to cook your meals for you?" asked Harry as he joined him.
He had nothing against the former Slytherin apart from their house rivalry. He'd never given him any trouble. In fact, thinking about it during the day, Harry had realized that he and Blaise had never interacted. They'd had classes together, had frequented the Slughorn club, sometimes the pureblood had been at Malfoy's side during their confrontations, but he'd always remained in the background. Since they were going to live together, they might as well have a cordial relationship.
"No, the elves were sent to other families when the manor was seized, only three elderly elves didn't want to leave. They maintain the manor, the park, but I mind my own business."
The young man's tone was weary and Harry felt bad for him.
"I'm sorry for what happened to you."
"What happened?"
"Your mother, the seizure of your manor, that you're considered a Death Eater's son before anything else when you never fought for Him."
"Thank you for that. Thank you for that and for testifying on my behalf, I know you did, for me, for Draco..."
Harry shrugged, he'd done it because it was what felt right, not to receive thanks or recognition, he'd had enough of both to overdose.
Blaise offered the Survivor a glass of whisky and they contemplated their glasses in silence for a moment.
"What have you been up to since the war?" asked the former Slytherin.
"I've tried to forget about it. I worked at the joke store with George Weasley. But I stopped working there a few weeks ago."
He paused. He didn't want to go into details with him; he didn't know what level of trust he could put in him. However, he was ready to establish a cordial relationship and discuss things without animosity.
"What about you?"
"I'm studying business management, but at a distance, the schools don't want children of mangemorts on their campuses and now I'm looking for an internship, with no real success."
They were silent for a moment longer, each in his own thoughts. Harry had never thought about how the pure-blood children he'd attended at Hogwarts lived since the war and realized that life must not be simple for them.
"Has George found someone to replace you at his store?" asked Blaise after a moment.
"I don't know, you..."
He was interrupted by the magical alarm sounding at the entrance gate to the estate. The sound could only mean one of two things: someone was trying to get in, or Jasper was trying to get out.
"That's your redheaded friend Jasper helped," Alice declared as she entered the kitchen, clothes in hand.
She followed Harry's gaze to said clothes.
"I'll get Jasper, he's going to need them. Unless you'd rather…"
"Alice!" cut in Harry, red in the cheeks.
Blaise smiled, amused, as the vampire left, but said nothing. Harry gave him a dark look that made him burst out laughing just before he left. The young man remained alone in the kitchen, his head in his hands, the image of Jasper naked in his mind and with the beginnings of an erection. He cursed Alice and forced himself to think of his uncle.
Voices rose from the corridor, one of which he knew by heart, and Harry went to meet them. Blaise and George both had polite smiles on their lips and interrupted their conversation when the Survivor arrived. The older one came to hug him for long minutes.
"I owe you a lot from what I understand," he whispered.
"It wasn't me who eased your pain," Harry replied in the same tone.
"No, but you made it possible."
"You're the one who saved us from the fire in the first place."
George shrugged and squeezed him a little tighter. Harry let him; he still had a great deal of affection for his former lover and was angry with himself for having put him in danger as well as having broken his heart. He felt good against this body bigger and stronger than his own, but a feeling of unease overcame him. He pulled out of the embrace and turned to meet Jasper's dark gaze. The vampire, still outside the mansion, was glaring at him through the open door. Edward had one hand on his shoulder and the other on his wrist, while Alice had stepped in front of him and placed a hand on his chest.
Harry swallowed, not from fear or apprehension, Jasper was jealous but calm, not trying to move from where he was, but from excitement. The empath was always handsome and attractive in Harry's eyes, except that here, his outfit - skinny jeans that molded him to perfection, a light gray shirt that clung to his skin in places and his wet hair - added to Alice's words a few minutes earlier, sent shivers straight to his lower abdomen.
Jasper's gaze immediately changed, dark gold glitter sparkled and his face relaxed. He offered an amused smile to Harry, who didn't know where to stand.
George passed Harry with a look full of innuendo and moved forward to meet the trio of vampires. Jasper whispered a few words to Alice and Edward, who let him go, and waited for George to reach him. The inventor held out his hand and thanked him sincerely. Jasper returned the handshake and smiled, but inside he was seething at having discovered him so close to his soulmate, and couldn't bear to feel the amorous feelings he had for him. The only thing holding him back from bleeding him dry was Harry's affection for him; he was well aware that if he killed this young man, he'd be ending any possibility of a relationship with Harry, so he restrained himself. He exchanged a few words with George before Blaise asked from the kitchen who wanted a glass of alcohol or alcoholic blood.
George excused himself, took Harry in his arms again when he was level with him, whispered a few words and accepted Blaise's proposal.
"Be happy."
These words lightened Harry's heart and the guilt he felt towards his former lover. He saw that the two youngest vampire couples had also accepted the invitation, but Carlisle and Esmée had remained in the parlor, and Jasper outside the door.
Harry hesitated, the invitation to have a drink was tempting, especially as his mind was screaming at him not to join Jasper, that it would be rushing things, but his whole body was clamoring for the vampire's. He wanted to feel his strong arms around him again, lay his hands on the firm chest, taste his cold lips, smell the notes of iron and undergrowth that made up the scent of his skin.
Jasper looked at him with burning eyes, he dreamed of spending time with Harry, eternity itself, and fought against his need to claim him as his own. Vampires were always very possessive of their soul mates until they had transformed them or at least marked them. Here, not being able to do that and knowing other people were interested in him, not even knowing if he could ever make him his own, was hard for him. He was a gentleman, raised in Texas during the 1850s, he wouldn't flout his upbringing or press Harry, whatever it took. On the other hand, if he had an opportunity to spend time with him and try to seduce him, he wouldn't miss it.
Finally, Harry did what he'd done best since childhood: he threw all reason to the wind and went to join the man who made him tick. He joined him outside, didn't think for a moment about joining the others in the kitchen and let him guide him to the garden furniture set up a little further away, between some shrubs, out of sight.