All the Wrong Things

Chapter 5

"Oh, er..." I look around, finding no one listening. "Yes."

"Daphne told me that piece yesterday. Right before she pulled me into a broom closet." He smirks.

"Oh," I say, finally understanding. "Good on you, mate." I frown. "A broom closet?"

He nods at me, then leans forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. "Yeah, you have to try it," he says. "It was wild."

He continues. He talks about knocking the equipment over until they found a bare wall, silencing the closet, finding the best position. I keep checking the rest of the common room, making sure no one is overhearing.

"What about you?" he says. "I'm sure with your 'Malfoy sensitivities,' you had her in your four-poster, candles lit, rose petals on the sheets..." He's grinning at me, shaking his head.

"No candles or roses, but yes." I roll my eyes at him, and I wonder how he's so at ease talking about this in public. I've been trying to keep that night off my mind for the past few days, and I wonder, if Blaise is able to speak so freely... perhaps there is some kind of conservative view that's been ingrained in me that makes me hesitant. "But I'll have to try the broom closet next time," I try.

"They don't take appointments there," he says. "You'll have to try being spontaneous for once."

"I'm spontaneous," I huff. I think of the conversations I overhear at Quidditch practice, between Marcus and other boys. I realize I've joined their "club." I know things now, and I have things to contribute.

"How long did you last?" he asks.

I glare at him, knowing what he's insinuating. "Hours," I say drily.

"Yeah, me neither." He grins. "I tried to get her off first, but it was taking too long." He sits back in his chair, and I try to forget that this is Daphne we're talking about. "You?"

I try to imitate his nonchalance. I smirk. "Yeah, once we got going I wasn't thinking much about her."

The double meaning hits me so hard that I feel the smirk slapped off my face. I see wide eyes underneath me instead of Pansy's deep-set pair, my face buried in curls instead of Pansy's bare neck. I blink, and take a breath, and look back up at him.

He's watching me. His eyes are tight. He takes a breath and says, "Do you know anyone with the password to the prefects' bath? I'd love to try it in water." And I feel like he's changed the subject. Purposefully.

We chat a bit back and forth, and I'm relaxing into this comradery, this brotherhood. He brings up a few sixth years who broke up at the Yule Ball, and jokes that I had a vastly better evening than them.

I smile.

"Granger was blubbering all over the place that night."

My eyes snap to him. "Why?" I regret it as soon as it leaves me.

He shrugs. "Dunno. Some fight with Weasley." His gaze comes back to me. "Or maybe Krum got fresh with her."

I swallow, and I feel the muscles in my jaw tighten. I smile lightly.

"He's an idiot for taking the Mudblood in the first place – to think she'd give him anything in return."

"Yeah." He stares at me. "Such a stupid thing. To fall for a Mudblood. Especially her."

His eyes are black and on me. I wish we were talking about sex in broom closets again.

"I couldn't agree more," I say.

~*~

Friday, September 17, 1999

"Merlin's Balls, it's been a long week."