Their trip to the tower after grabbing dinner from the elves was long and awkward, which was a feat considering that Blaise had to be silent underneath the invisibility cloak anyway. Despite that fact, the silence between the two boys was stifling. In all honesty, Blaise didn't know what Draco was doing in the Room of Requirement. The blonde was disinclined to tell him, so he'd let it lie; Blaise really wasn't the one to pry. He was worried about his friend, certainly, but he figured that Draco would come to him when he needed his help. He was sure that his task, whatever it was, had something to with his summer guests, but other than that he was clueless. Either way, despite their growing camaraderie and attachment, Blaise wasn't about to tell Harry even that little amount. He wouldn't betray his best friend. No matter what anyone said of Slytherins, they were loyal to those they believed deserved it, and Blaise was fiercely loyal to Draco.
Harry for his part couldn't help but feel a little hurt, and he couldn't for the life of him understand why. Of course, Blaise would stand by his housemate, even if he wasn't directly involved in whatever plot Malfoy was concocting. Furthermore, Malfoy and Blaise were close, a fact that further disconcerted the Gryffindor. Harry knew that he and his partner's relationship was that of project partners, and nothing more, but he'd felt that they had reached a friendlier point in their relationship. Didn't it bother Blaise that Malfoy was probably plotting his death at this very moment? Didn't it bother him that his friend was suffering under the rule of a madman? Harry knew that Draco was suffering; it was plain as day on his face for anyone to see if they actually looked. Harry wanted to try and help Malfoy because even if they hated one another he liked to think that they hated Voldemort more. He heaved a heavy sigh as he stopped in front of the portrait of the fat lady.
"This is the Fat Lady Zabini," Harry said quietly. "Be nice to her; she's sensitive. The password is blood diamonds, not that you'll be entering without me, but anyway..." Harry trailed off.
"Who are you talking to child?" The Fat Lady asked him, giving Harry a curious look. She couldn't see anyone nearby and was worried that the boy was beginning to crack under stress.
"No one Madame, could you open the portrait please?"
"Of course dear, they're a little rowdy in the common room, so why don't you head straight on up and get some rest tonight. You look like you could use it," she suggested with a mildly worried glance. Harry nodded but remained silent as the portrait swung open. He and Blaise stepped into the bright room and glanced around. Things were a little livelier tonight, but it wasn't much crazier than usual. First years were in the corners playing exploding snap or wizarding marbles, dodging both the flaming cards and the air born marbles. The middle years were a little closer to the fire reading at the tables or gossiping amongst themselves. The elder students - the sixth and seventh years - all occupied the plush couches and armchairs closest to the fire.
This certainly wasn't the most studious house, Blaise thought, but he'd known that already. Apart, from Hermione no one in this house was particularly high on academia. He glanced at Harry; well, he might have been if he were encouraged properly.
Blaise began to move and follow Harry as the Gryffindor discreetly tried to maneuver them around the outside edges of the room toward what the Slytherin figured were the Gryffindor dorms.
"Oh Harry! There you are." A female voice called out from the area nearest the fire.
The boys turned to see Hermione waving them over and Ginny smiling widely at them. Ron nodded but soon turned back to his chess game against Dean Thomas. Blaise smirked as Thomas grimaced as his bishop took a beating from of Ron's pawn.
Feeling an uncomfortable, nauseating tug settle in his stomach Blaise became aware of the fact that Harry was moving away from him and was alarmingly close the twenty foot marker. Harry stopped abruptly and turned to look at the supposedly empty space with a questioning expression. "
Harry, what's the matter?" Hermione asked, closing the book on her lap. Blaise swiftly but silently made his way to Harry and pressed his hand to the Gryffindor's lower back. Harry released a silent sigh and Blaise's shoulders sagged in relief as the pain in their abdomens dissipated quickly
Harry shook his head, "Nothing Hermione, I'm just feeling a little tired today."
"Are you feeling better though? I was sure that you'd gone to the infirmary, and Ron, Ginny, and I were going to go check on you after he finishes that game," Hermione said, glaring at the redhead. Apparently, they'd been playing chess for a while now. "No, I ended up working on my charms project some more with Zabini-"
"Again," Ginny pouted, standing up from her seat and sauntering over to Harry. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around his torso, looking up into his face. "You've been meeting with that slimely snake so much that I've hardly seen you at all. What do you do together so long?"
Harry withheld a tired, irritated sigh as her hands drifted lower and she plastered herself against his side, forcing Blaise to remove his hand before her arm grazed the invisibility cloak.
"Ginny," he said calmly, trying to separate himself from her cloying hands, "We work. We have a project for charms that I've told you about plenty of times."
"Yes, but Ron doesn't work on his nearly as much, and I see 'Mione all of the time," she simpered, poking her bottom lip out.
This time Harry couldn't control the exasperated sigh that slipped him between his lips, "Zabini is surprisingly studious, and I find that I'm really adept at the work we're doing, so it's fun to work on it."
"Fun?!" Two astounded voices rang out loudly from both Ginny and Ron. The redheads were gaping him while Hermione was nodding approvingly, "To work with a snake?"
Blaise gritted his teeth at the repeated insults to both himself and his house. If he were a rasher person, he would have revealed himself and railed against the two Weasleys, but he was nothing if not reserved and controlled. He'd have his revenge sooner or later for both the insults and the Weaslette's ostentatious pawing at Harry. He didn't like it, not one bit. Her suggestive looks and familiar touches were filling him with a possessive, simmering rage that he could hardly stand.
Granger's voice interrupted his murderous musings. Clearly, he must have missed something because Harry was tense and appeared to be becoming angrier by the second. Okay, what did I miss?
"What do you mean by that Hermione?" Harry asked.
Hermione sighed as if really put upon, "I am only saying that it's good to finally see you taking an interest in your studies for one. Usually by now you'd be running off to solve some mystery or other or, this year in particular, obsessing over Malfoy."
"Oh forgive me Hermione for wanting to figure out who is trying to kill every year," Harry said with a biting sarcasm Blaise didn't know he was capable of.
"I'm glad that no one has made an attempt on my life or that of any of my friends this year, so I can finally live the life of a regular student like the rest of you." Hermione scoffed completely unaware of Harry burgeoning anger or her own lack of tact,
"Harry, Ron and I especially have hardly been regular students since we met you. If you've forgotten, I will remind you that we are always pulled into your adventures and suffer as much if not more than you do."
Harry glared at her and Ron's bobbing head. "That's what you think?" He asked quietly in a dark voice that sent a static pulse sizzling down Zabini's spine straight to his groin. He was starting to realize that Harry could be very arousing in so many different ways.
Hermione sighed heavily and opened her book preparing to finish reading and dismiss the entire conversation, "Don't fly into a tizzy Harry. I only meant that regardless of Zabini's house affiliation he seems to be having a good influence on you. I am eager to see what you two come up with for the project," she finished, looking back towards her book. It was clear to Harry and Blaise that she didn't actually care what they came up with and that whatever it was it was sure be less brilliant than her own, even if her partner was Lavender Brown
Without another word, Harry adjusted his bag on her shoulder and turned to leave the common room, heading towards his dormitory again. Again, he was finding his friends' presence less than desirable.
"Harry, where are you going?" Ginny asked out loud. "I thought you would spend time down here with us."
"Ginny, I'm tired. I've been working all day, and I've been feeling a little under the weather lately. Perhaps I will be more up to it tomorrow."
It was a lie; Harry felt fine - as long as Blaise was near - but he had no desire to be near any of them any longer, and as he was retiring so early he could easily do his homework before bed in the confines of his bed curtains.
---:::---
Blaise glanced around Harry's dorm room, less than impressed. It was a large room with five beds, three landscape portraits for decoration and privacy, plus five wardrobes and desks. The room held two doors. The one they'd entered from the stairs and another one just across the room.
There was ample space in the center of the circular bedroom for moving about, and red and gold furnishings were everywhere. Blaise admitted that red was a gorgeous color; he even owned more than one red set of tailored formal and every day robes for the holidays spent away from Hogwarts. In moderation, it was a lovely color, but too much of it can be over-powering, especially when it's bounced off of so many gold decorations. Yes, the Slytherin dorm was at times too muted and at its worse it could be considered dreary, but he almost preferred that to the burning of his retinas.
"You can take that off," Harry said quietly gaining Blaise's attention. He was about fifteen feet away from the Slytherin standing beside the bed nearest to what was probably the bathroom door. "This is my bed. Neville's is directly across from mine.
Ron's is just there," he pointed to the bed directly beside his own. "Seamus and Dean's beds are beds are on the other side. We each have king sized beds," Harry said with a light blush before he turned away. Blaise smirked; Harry was so prone to blushing he was surprised that he'd never noticed it before their partner project was assigned. "So," the Gryffindor continued. "There's plenty of room for you to share here...with me if you want." He mumbled. "Or, you can sleep on the floor between my bed and the bathroom under the invisibility cloak. No one will see you there."
Blaise walked forward confidently. "I'd rather not, sleep on the floor that is," he intoned, placing his bag on Harry's comforter and sitting down. Harry nodded. He'd figured as much, but he didn't want to assume that the Slytherin would want to sleep with him. He blushed again at the thought. "Right, well I'll have Dobby get some clothes for you from your dorm, and you can shower first. That way, you'll be done well before any of the others come up."
"Dobby?" Blaise furrowed his brow before recognition dawned on him. Harry nodded, not surprised that Blaise knew of the former Malfoy elf.
"Yes," Harry tugged his fringe before standing up straight trying not to look so self-conscious. "
He's sort of devoted to me," he blushed. Blaise smirked, "If I remember correctly, he was a little excitable."
Blaise smirked, "If I remember correctly, he was a little excitable."
Harry smiled a little, "Yeah. I think he's gotten worse."
Blaise shook his head, "I can't even imagine." "Anyway, go shower; it should be close enough from here. There are towels and washcloths in there, and my shampoo and soap are in the second stall from the door. You can use those. I'll have your things waiting for you when you're done." When Blaise returned, he walked out of the bathroom with steam billowing after him and a plush towel wrapped around his waist.
Harry inhaled sharply and turned away to hide the lusty expression showing on his face. Blaise was attractive with his clothes on, no doubt, but half naked he was a true vision. Harry gulped and pointed to the left side of his bed,
"Y-you're clothes are there, and um...I'm just gonna..." He let the sentence fade away as he grabbed his toiletries and rushed into the bathroom, avoiding eye contact with the smirking Slytherin. Blaise shook his head; Harry's sexual innocence was too sweet. Looking over to the door that led back to the Gryffindor common room when he heard a loud bang, Blaise hurriedly dressed and climbed into Harry's bed, pulling the curtains closed.
Harry for his part was berating himself as he stood under the shower of soothing water. He had to stop this fawning over the sexy, dark Slytherin lying in his bed right now with green silk pajamas, lying against his pillows getting his warm scent all over his covers, reclining lazily. Harry groaned as the cloth in his hand grazed his budding erection.
"Oh no, no, no!" He wailed. This was not happening. Draco was plotting something, probably trying to kill him, and Harry was deeply attracted to the git's best friend. "Shit!" He said, putting away his soap and rag and grabbing his shampoo and conditioner. He had to stop thinking about Blaise and creamy skin, dark eyes, and sultry voice.
"Damn it! I'm still mad at him anyway," he said to himself, trying to focus on something other than his strong, large hands, tall stature, and undoubtedly hard chest. "Argh!" Harry shook his head ten minutes later, flicking the last water droplets out of his hair before he toweled off and dressed for the night.
When he emerged it was with renewed irritation at Blaise and at his own rampant teenage hormones. They'd been virtually non-existent until he'd begun spending so much time with Blaise. Harry sighed heavily as he pulled his curtains open and tried not to be surprised at the vision Blaise made while snoozing on his back on top of Harry's covers.
"Oh, you're back," Zabini said, sitting up on his forearms as Harry slid his way onto what Harry was coming to think of as his side of the bed. In just this short time, Harry felt as if he wasn't the sole owner of the four-poster anymore. "Yeah," he responded with a nod. After that, things became very awkward as neither made any move to do or say anything. They just stared at the ceiling, each lost in their own thoughts.
First and foremost was what to do about their sticky situation at least that's what Harry was pondering. Blaise sighed. Harry seemed to be upset at him still; probably, because of their small disagreement earlier, and fighting with his friends probably only worsened his mood. Not wanting to endure the awkward silence any longer, Blaise initiated, "I don't much like it when you call me Zabini." Harry turned to him and arched an eyebrow.
He'd wondered if Blaise was planning on speaking to him at all that night, but not in his wildest imaginations had he thought the Slytherin would say something like that. "What?" Harry said in confusion. "What would you prefer I call you then?"
Blaise snorted. "You were calling me Blaise earlier, and I like that better. I don't think we need to go back to surnames just because you're angry with me." Harry definitely didn't appreciate the insinuation that he was behaving childishly and simply using the boy's surname to provoke or punish him.
"Would you like me to call you by your first in front of my friends? I can just direct all of their subsequent questions to you. That might be a good idea too; then you can see how it feels to be interrogated by Hermione Granger. I can assure you; it can be quite uncomfortable and painful." The Slytherin narrowed his eyes; he didn't appreciate Harry's cheek one bit. "Your friends weren't in the corridor with us when you told me the password to your dorms."
Harry looked at Blaise strangely for a second, throwing him off-guard. Surely, he was speaking in jest. "Blaise," harry emphasized, "There could have been any number of people in the corridor with us. Surely, you're Slytherin enough to realize that talking to myself was strange enough, appearing to have conjured an imaginary friend with your first name would have been even stranger."
Blaise ran a hand through his brown curls. Of course, he realized that, but, "I just don't like being at odds with you," he sighed, surprising both himself and Harry with that impromptu confession. He hadn't realized that he'd been feeling that way ever sense they'd left that abandoned classroom, but now that he'd admitted it he could acknowledge the truth in those words, and Blaise never lied to himself. He cleared his throat and looked directly at Harry when he began speaking anew.
"Like you said, we are becoming friends, I believe, and as we have to spend an indefinite amount of time together in very close proximity," he continued, gesturing to the bed they were currently sharing, "I don't want you to be angry with me, and I don't want to be angry with you," he said, holding out a hand.
Harry couldn't help but smile. Although he was a Slytherin, Blaise was sweet in a stoic, grumbly protective bulldog sort of way. Without a thought, Harry grasped and shook Blaise's hand, trying not to bring attention to his body's reaction to Blaise warm hand encasing his. It was nearly twice the size of his own, and like earlier Blaise's touch warmed his blood. With a blush, Harry retrieved his hand and turned to rummage through his book bag on the floor.
He still had homework he needed to finish for the following day, and as they were stuck in bed for the next few hours he figure he may as well finish it. Blaise seemed to take a hint from Harry and pulled out some of his homework too. They spread it all out in front of them and moved onto their stomachs. After twenty minutes of silence, Blaise spoke again, quietly in his silky voice. "So, are you dating Miss Weasely?" Again,
Harry was startled by his question. "What?" Blaise chuckled, "Again with that word."
"Hey, you took me by surprise," Harry defended, blushing again. "And, no I'm not dating her." Blaise frowned at the tightness in his chest that dissipated with Harry's answer. "She's...awfully friendly with you," he commented, fishing for more information.
You didn't touch someone like she did earlier without silently projecting 'Hands off vultures. He's mine.' It was a gesture Blaise was very familiar with since Pansy - much to Draco's displeasure - did it to his best friend often. Harry sighed and unceremoniously dropped his head onto his Potions book. "I know," he groaned in agony. "She's been obsessed with me since I met her in my first year." "But she's a year under us," Blaise said confusedly.
Harry nodded, "Yes, I met the entire Weasely family when I was searching for the Hogwarts Express platform in muggle London. She's been star struck ever since, and someone - I'm not sure who - is encouraging her infatuation. It gets worse every year. She's convinced that we're going to be the second coming of my parents because I look a lot like my father, and my mother was a redhead." Harry grimaced. "I'm to become an auror just like my father, and she is to become Mrs. Potter and have lovely little children that look just like me and her. It's ridiculous."
Blaise nodded. It certainly sounded that way to him. He reached over and laid his heavy hand on Harry's head. Harry turned to look at him with his cheek pressed onto the page of his text. He smiled brilliantly at Blaise for reasons he could not quite describe, but the Slytherin's hand on his head felt really good. It was comforting and understanding
Harry's smile took Blaise's breath away. It really was beautiful when it actually reached his eyes. They studied each other a long time before Harry reached out and held a hand to Blaise's face, his fingers barely, grazing his cheek. "You're eyes have swirls of purple in them again," he whispered.
"Uh, it's gone now." He said, leaning up on his forearms, trying to take a closer look. Blaise leaned up and removed his hand, moving to a sitting position.
"Why does that happen," Harry asked, mimicking Blaise.
Blaise smirked, "It stems from the inherited Zabini beauty." He said laughingly. Harry snorted, "You're as vain as your friend." Blaise laughed outright this time, "Oh, you wound me good sir." He smiled at Harry's flippant laughter. "Draco may be my best friend, but I will admit that his vanity knows no bounds, and I take offense to the suggestion that I am as bad as he is." Stifling his mirth, Harry pressed,
"Honestly, are your eyes changing color or something?" Blaise shook his head,
"No, they're always like that." Harry glanced briefly at his eyes again, "I can't tell."
"Then you're not looking hard enough." Blaise assured him.
"My eyes are a deep dark black, nearly as dark as my pupil, and when the light hits them just right if you're looking intently enough you can see streaks of deep, dark purple in the iris. It's nothing magical, just anatomy." Harry nodded.
It was similar to the way his eyes had gold flecks in them if you looked closely enough in the sun. It made perfect sense to him. "In our family," Blaise continued in a lower tone, making heat that had nothing to do with their magical mishap begin to rise in Harry's stomach, "My uncles and mother joke that we've found our destined mate when someone can see the purple in our eyes because generally people don't gaze at our eyes long enough or intently enough to even hope to see the purple." Harry wasn't blind to the hidden the insinuation in Blaise's statement. "Despite your good looks," Harry asked, trying for levity. It worked somewhat as Blaise smiled. "Yes, usually they're taking in the entire package rather than looking into our eyes for an extended period. Our family strongly believes that the eyes," he paused for emphasis,
"are the gateway to the soul. If someone can glimpse the color in our eyes they've glimpse a part of our soul." His voice seemed to become deeper and heavier to Harry.
"I find it fascinating that you've seen it twice now in such a short period, Harry." Harry was certain that he forgot to breathe under the scrutiny of the sexy Slytherin in his bed.
The Gryffindor jumped when the dorm room door crashed open. "Shh," Ron admonished. "Harry is probably sleeping. He wasn't feeling well today, you know." "
Sorry," Seamus' voice, floated over to Harry in a whisper.
The tension dissipated as Harry and Blaise simultaneously raised their wands and cast silencing and perimeter spells around Harry's bed. Blaise chuckled, "Lets finish this up and then we'll call it a night, huh?"
"Good idea."
---:::---
The next morning came too soon for Harry as Ron's boisterous voice woke him.
"Harry! Are you coming down for breakfast?"
Harry groaned and snuggled down further into his warm covers and shifting pillows.
"Maybe, he's still feeling unwell and is sleeping in," Neville supplied helpfully in a quieter voice.
"What?! He's going to miss a meal again?" Ron asked. Harry rolled his eyes behind his eyelids.
Ron could never imagine willingly missing a meal, and it shocked him every time anyone else did. "
Some people don't like to eat when they're sick Ron," Neville said.
"Come on. Harry will eat when he's ready. It's Saturday, so Harry can sleep in if he wants." "I don't know," Ron said, his voice getting smaller as he moved towards the door. "
He even put up perimeter spells. What if something is really wrong with him?" "Ron, he probably just knew that you would wake him up whether he wanted to get up or not and took precautions," Harry heard Neville say just before the door closed with a quiet snick.
Harry nodded.
That's exactly what he was trying to do, but it had little to do with sleeping and more to do with the boy sharing his bed. Speaking of...
"Harry, how long are you going to lie on me? I need to use the facilities," Blaise said in a sleep roughened voice. Harry jerked up and fully awake instantly, staring in horror at the empty place on Blaise's chest where he'd just been laying contentedly. He'd been so comfortable that he didn't notice the rising chest or the steady beating of Blaise's heart under his ear.
"Oh my God," he whispered, "I'm so sorry," he apologized turning bright red.
Blaise chuckled, "It's really no problem Harry, but if the coast is clear then, I'd like to use the restroom." "Oh of course," Harry said, snatching up his wand and slashing it violently to remove the silencing and perimeter spells.
Blaise just smirked again at Harry's cute behavior and walked into the bathroom. Truthfully, he'd been awake for a couple of hours, but he hadn't the slightest inclination to move Harry when he'd found the smaller boy snuggled up to him. Somehow, he'd cuddled up to him in the night, and Blaise thought it was sweet. Harry fit so easily in his arms, and he didn't want to let him go. Blaise was slightly worried about what he was really beginning to realize was a growing infatuation with the Boy-Who-Lived.
Harry, Blaise realized after getting to know him, was nothing short of amazing. He was a natural at spell theory and construction without any tutoring, and he was sweet and adorable sometimes and contrarily feisty and protective at other times. In short, he was so multi-faceted he alternately baffled and fascinated Blaise. When the Slytherin returned from the bathroom, he arrived to find Harry sitting on the edge of his bed with his trunk open, staring at a small mirror. He looked completely shattered. Blaise had never thought to see Harry appear so helpless and despondent. He couldn't stop himself from using his long stride to rush to Harry side, kneeling in front of him and pressing his hands to Harry's knees.
"What's wrong Harry? Harry," Blaise began again when the boy didn't respond. "Harry, what is this?" Blaise asked, looking at the little mirror in Harry's hand.
"It's a two-way mirror," Harry whispered, running his fingers over it lovingly.
"Why has it upset you? It is broken?" Blaise couldn't understand Harry's misery over a tiny twoway mirror. Harry gulped and looked up tears welling up in his eyes.
Blaise inhaled sharply. What had happened in the few minutes he'd been away to make his Gryffindor cry? "Harry," He said almost desperately. "Let me help you. Tell me what's wrong." Harry closed his eyes and dropped his head, leaning forward to drop his head on Blaise's shoulder. If the Slytherin hadn't been there, Blaise was sure that Harry would have collapsed into himself and probably never come out again. "You know what happened in the Department of Mysteries at the end of last term?" Harry asked. Blaise shook his head. "I heard a few minor details, but I don't know much. Draco only said that somehow your trip there is the reason his father ended up in Azkaban." Harry didn't care about Draco's baseless accusations at the moment. He just began to speak, starting from the very beginning with his nightmares and visions, his occlumency sessions with Snape, ending with the false vision of Sirius' capture and the trip to the Department of Mysteries. He told him all of his secret feelings about every event: his resentment for Snape and his teaching methods, the pain he felt with every vision, the misery and guilt he felt when he watched helplessly as those people suffered and died ignobly, his fear for Sirius and his friends' lives when he'd entered the ministry, and the debilitating guilt and misery at Sirius' death.
He excluded the prophecy for now. He didn't tell him because he didn't want Blaise running for the hills as soon as they reversed the effects of this spell. It wasn't because it was a huge secret that Harry had to kill Voldemort. In all honestly, he'd seen that one coming. He was angry with Dumbledore for hiding from him something so trivial in the grand scheme of things. The entirety of Wizarding Britain expected him to kill Voldemort or die trying. As daunting a task as that was, it wasn't news to Harry. Dumbledore somehow thought hiding the prophecy from him was worth the ultimate cost of losing Sirius, and Harry just couldn't understand that. The damn thing wasn't worth protecting. It didn't give anyone an edge in the war. Harry would have let Voldemort have the damn thing if he'd have known what it said. Voldemort wanted to kill him anyway; Harry highly doubted that hearing that thrice-damned message would have made him want to kill him any more or less. It was all so painfully stupid, and now Sirius was gone because of Dumbledore's bad judgment and Harry's impatience. If he'd have opened this package and read the note, he could have spoken to Sirius and known he was alright...now...now...
"Harry," Blaise called, releasing the Gryffindor from his consuming thoughts. Harry pulled his head back so that he could look at the Italian boy who was quickly becoming his closest confidant.
"How does this work?"
"What?" Harry sniffed. Blaise allowed a small smile to flit across his face at Harry's typical response. "The mirror, how do you activate it?"
Harry grabbed the paper beside his leg and handed it to Blaise. "It says to just call his name to activate it." The Slytherin unfolded the parchment and read it quickly.
"This is a two-way mirror, I've got the other one of the pair. If you need to speak to me, just say my name into it; you'll appear in my mirror and I'll be able to talk in yours. James and I used to use them when we were in separate detentions."
"Have you tried it?" Harry whipped his head up, and stared at Blaise in abject horror. "Are you crazy?" The, 'I'll die if I try and it doesn't work,' was left unsaid between them. Blaise grabbed the mirror and flipped it over several times between his fingers.
"I've heard of magic doing wonderful, terrible, and unbelievable things Harry, but I've yet to encounter an object that kills instantly without discretion."
"But, but he wasn't behind the veil," Harry began, not daring to hope.
Blaise stood up and stretched his legs in front of Harry, passing the mirror back to its owner. "Harry, it could just as easily be a doorway to another realm or place on Earth or beneath it or to the Sun. I don't know, but I doubt that passing through the veil killed him. It may very well be that he died whenever he encountered the environment it spat him out into," he felt compelled to say, "but he may not have. Furthermore, I've never heard of anything that can send people to the underworld or afterlife, Harry. People don't just disappear. And, if this veil does send people to Hell or wherever, I would think that the creators would have created a way for them to come back. Who in their right mind would create a portal to hell without a way back?"
"So, you think..."
"I think that it's worth a try to see if he answers. If he's alive and no one is looking for him..." Harry bit his lip.
He just didn't know. "What if he didn't have it with him? This will be pointless." Blaise sighed, Harry had a point.
"If there was a way to check the Black tapestry, then we would know for sure if he still lived."
"Tapestry," Harry inquired.
Blaise nodded, "Every old family has a family tapestry that delineates their family line, magically adding new members as they are born or marry into the family. I am sure that the Black family had one because they held strongly to the old traditions." Harry perked up for a second, but then deflated again. "I think his mother blasted his name from that if I remember correctly."
Blaise shook his head, "That would have been the same as disowning him; he couldn't have become Lord Black in that case, and he was the head of his house when he disappeared, correct?"
"Yes."
"Then he'll be on it. We just need to look at it, and then we'll know for sure what to do." Harry grinned, "We can ask Kreacher," Harry exclaimed.
Blaise frowned, "Kreacher?" "He was Sirius' house elf before. He works for me now." Blaise arched his eyebrow and harrumphed, "That's sufficiently dehumanizing enough; sounds like something the Blacks would name their house elf," he mumbled. "Wait, you have more than one house-elf beholden to you?" House elves were loyal creatures with powerful magic that didn't trust or even respect easily.To have two under your command as a student was impressive. "Sort of, but Kreacher would rather work for anyone besides than me, except maybe a muggleborn," he mumbled. "
''I just inherited him from Sirius when he made me his legal heir. Kreacher's so repugnant and mean that I had him work for Hogwarts because I couldn't stand to see him. He's positively vile," Harry explained. Well, Blaise thought, there goes the idea that Harry isn't wealthy.
He currently holds both the Potter legacy and the Black as well. He shook his head; he shouldn't have expected anything less.
"KREACHER!" Harry called without delay. He needed to know once and for all.
"Nasty filth, blood-traitor, half-blood master be calling me?" Kreacher wheezed as he popped into the room, looking around in obvious disdain.
"Kreacher I want you to go back to Grimmauld Place-"
"Horrible filthy master be letting Kreacher go home?!"
"Listen Kreacher,"
Harry admonished. "I want you to go to Grimmauld Place and get the Black family tapestry. I need to see it. It's very important; do you understand? You are to go get it and bring it back to me. If you try to flee or deceive me as you did before, nothing not even your dead Mistress' soul can save you from my wrath. You will experience pain like never before, and when I finally kill you, you won't have your head displayed among the others. I'll cook you and feed you to that rat Pettigrew. Do you understand?" Kreacher squeaked and blubbered all over the floor alternately begging and cursing Harry.
"KREACHER!" Harry called again. "I's can't. The tapestry is being at Black Manor, not home." "It's been moved, since when?" Harry asked. "Dumbly be telling Kreacher it move and new half-blood, filthy master did not order Kreacher not to move it, so Kreacher takes it to Slop at Black Manor," Kreacher wheezed.
"Then get it from there," Harry commanded firmly, quickly losing his patience with the damn elf. And, what was Dumbledore doing removing things from his home? "And, unless it is specifically Hogwarts business do not follow orders from anyone but myself. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Kreacher hissed before popping out of the room.
"Impressive threatening Harry," Blaise smirked. "I didn't know you were so imaginative." Harry laughed, "Neither did I. I think it's from all of the time I've spent around slimy snakes recently."
Blaise smiled wickedly, preparing to attack the Gryffindor when Kreacher returned with a massive tapestry. Unrolled, it took up all of the space in the middle of the dorm room. Blaise renewed the privacy spells on the room before he turned to look the ancient artifact over with Harry.
"There he is!" Harry exclaimed from his spot on his knees at the bottom of the tapestry. "This means he's alive, right? There's no line through it!"
"Yes, try the mirror Harry," Blaise prompted as Harry's eyes began to swim with unshed tears as he stared at Sirius Orion Black's name and ran his finger over the magical stitching.
Harry sat back and walked over to the bed to reclaim his previous seat with mirror.
"SIRIUS BLACK," he intoned.
The surface of the mirror wavered and rippled repeatedly and Harry was beginning to lose hope before Sirius' face appeared in front of him, grinning and wide-eyed.
"S-Siri," Harry choked.
"Hey Prongslet," Sirius said quietly.
"I forgot I had this with me, but I'm damn glad now." The tears welling in Harry's eyes spilled over without his consent as he spoke in a hoarse broken voice.
"I've missed you so much; I thought I would never see you again after Bella cursed you. I'm so sorry, so sorry," Harry cried. "You know me better than that," his Godfather said with a wolfish grin.
"Don't cry Harry," Sirius said as the tears continued to pour down Harry's face. "You're breaking my heart kiddo."
"They-they told me you were dead Pads."
"It's okay Harry. I'm not dead although I'm not sure if I'm actually alive here either. It's hard to tell," he chuckled. "I'm sorry Prongslet, but I think I have to go now," Sirius said abruptly. "What? Why?" Harry shrieked, clenching the mirror tighter.
"You-you're not about to..."
"No Harry," Sirius rushed to reassure his godson. "I'm not about to pass on or anything like that. It's just that there's no residual magic in this place for the mirror to draw from to fuel the connection, so I have to use my own magic, and it's difficult in this place. It's like the atmosphere absorbs any excess magic, so I'm running out of energy rapidly." Harry nodded in relief.
"You'll be better soon though?" he asked in voice so heartbreakingly childlike that both Blaise and Sirius ached to embrace him.
"Of course," Sirius said with a reassuring smile. "I just need time to recharge, and I'll be golden," he said brightly.
"Okay," Harry said quietly.
"I'm so happy to see you," he whispered, tears pooling in his eyes once again. "Me too Harry, I'll talk to you soon, okay?" Harry nodded, "I'll try to figure out a way to get you out of there I swear," Harry said determinedly.
"I know you will; you're a brilliant, determined kid Harry. If anyone can figure it out, it's you. If you need help though," Sirius couldn't help but add, "Talk to Sniv-Severus. I've never met anyone besides your mother who knew more about magical theory. He can be a lot of help if he wants to be."
Harry nodded again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately as he stared at his godfather in awe. He could hardly believe that he was speaking to him once again and that it wasn't dream. "See you later Harry. Don't forget about me." "Never Siri, see you." When the mirror once again showed Harry's reflection, Harry looked up at Blaise who hadn't moved from his spot directly in front of the Gryffindor. In seconds, his arms were full of one crying, garrulous Harry Potter.
"You saw him too right? You could hear him? He was really there?"
"Yes, Harry," Blaise said quietly, tightening his arms around the boy. Harry was alternately happy and sad, and he didn't know which emotion to express, so he cried and laughed and squeezed Blaise tighter and tighter until he was emotionally exhausted. Blaise moved them to sit on the bed.
"Thank you so much," Harry said as he slumped against Blaise's side, his arms still loosely wrapped around the Slytherin's waist.
"For what," he asked, his hands running soothingly up and down Harry's sides.
"If it weren't for you, I don't think I ever would have looked at that mirror again after today. It nearly killed me before you came out here to realize that I'd had a way to contact Sirius all along and that I could have avoided the entire Department of Mysteries escapade that got Sirius thrown into the veil. They all told me he was dead, but he's not, and I never would have known if it weren't for you." Blaise didn't feel as if he'd done much, but he'd made Harry happy, so he certainly wasn't complaining. Sirius was Harry's last living magical relative, and Blaise recognized how much it had to mean to Harry to realize that he wasn't dead at all.
"I take it this is our new term project, along with fixing our accio incantations and getting us unstuck... for lack of a more appropriate word." Harry nodded silently and closed his eyes. He couldn't be more content right if he were a puppy on his owners lap. He just felt like everything was right with the world even though he knew logically that much of it was going to Hell. Still, in that moment, reliving his conversation with Sirius and sitting with Blaise, Harry was able to block all of it out: Voldemort, Malfoy, the war, his strained relationship with his friends...all of it just ceased for the moment. Ten minutes later Blaise brought him back from oblivion,
"Harry?"
"Hmm?"
"What's the plan for today? I need to show my face around the Slytherin common rooms, and we need to eat and begin the research to solve our predicament as well your godfather's."
"Right," Harry said, sitting up reluctantly. "I'll leave a note for Hermione and Ron stating that I was feeling better and going to work on the project with you. It will upset them, especially Ginny, but at least they won't come looking for me. Then we can go to your dorm and spend time in there. I'll wear my cloak and read or do homework or something and try to be as unobtrusive as possible. Later on, we can go somewhere to work on our new projects," he smirked.
"Alright, that plan will work for today. I think we should take turns sleeping in each other's dorm if this progresses past the weekend, and then we'll just have to alternate who is seen when Luckily, the Gryffindors and Slytherins share all classes, so that won't be an issue," Blaise added going to get clothes for the day from the pile Dobby had brought up last night.
"Agreed."
Harry followed Blaise down the stairs into the bowels of Hogwarts. The scenery was somewhat familiar due to Harry's innumerous trips down to the dungeons for potions and Snape's ever dreaded detentions. What wasn't quite so memorable, but was now sure to leave a lasting impression on Harry's brain, was the broad expanse of Blaise's back as he stalked in front of him, stately, poised, and completely confident.
The boy walked into the Slytherin common room with and air of frosty detachment, like he owned the place and the people in it, daring them to comment on his absence the previous night. Taking the hint, no one asked or even dared to speak to him besides a friendly - well friendly for a Slytherin - greeting.
Harry couldn't help but envy the Slytherins' tact. As curious as he assumed them to be, none of them felt the need to bombard Blaise in the middle of the room and question him relentlessly on what could have been embarrassing or personal information that didn't need to be discussed in the presence of thirty other students. If only Harry were so lucky... Blaise walked over to a secluded corner of the common room where Harry noticed Malfoy sitting with Daphne Greengrass and her little sister perhaps. The two girls looked so similar that Harry was sure that the smaller girl must have been Astoria Greengrass.
"Hm, you were even able to procure a fresh set of clothes," Draco said with a negligent glance over the large tome in his hand. Daphne quirked an eyebrow as well as she continued to stroke her little sister's golden hair.
"That is impressive Blaise. You'll have to teach me that little trick dear," she said with an amused smile. Her sister giggled and shifted in her position laying on her sister's lap to gaze at Blaise. He was so very handsome and a pureblood and wealthy. He would make a worthy husband, she thought as she stared at the Italian boy two years older than herself. She knew that she was beautiful and came from a good enough family. Perhaps, she should try harder to woo him so that he might court her. Of course, she'd never behave like that vapid Parkinson girl.
Thank goodness she wasn't here at the moment; her behavior was deplorable, and Astoria certainly wasn't going to mimic that thing. Blaise knew that none of them would have been half so amused if they knew where and who he'd been with last night, but for the time being he had no intention of informing them, so he just decided to endure their teasing. He drew his wand and summoned a wing back for himself with its accompanying footstool. He sat and reclined, kicking his feet up gracefully, leaving enough room on the stool for Harry to perch on it. Hopefully, it was dim enough to disguise the depression of the cushion. "Oh," Draco said, setting aside his book and forgoing any pretense of reading,
"Someone is especially relaxed today. Would you like to tell us where you spent the night last night, so the rest of us can consider visiting? It must have been lovely." Blaise smiled and Harry nearly choked. He couldn't imagine any of them visiting his bed...ever. Well, Blaise was welcome anytime, but...Harry blushed beneath his invisibility cloak, thankful that it hid his embarrassment from his surrounding schoolmates.
"I did have a rather lovely night," Blaise said smoothly with a sly smirk on his lips.
Draco arched an eyebrow, clearly saying: Well, where the hell were you? Blaise chuckled,
"A gentleman never kisses and tells." Draco huffed quietly and sat back on the couch, relaxing.
He hadn't really expected more, but he'd hoped nonetheless. He could have used a distraction from his current employment. Trying to the get the mixture perfect was really frustrating, and furthermore he had no idea how he was going to administer it after it was complete.
It was completely nerve wracking. Honestly, just what did they expect him to do? He was only a sixth year student. Damn it all!
"Come dear, I promised to help you with your charms assignment," Daphne said quietly to her little sister, urging her to sit up.
"There's no time like the present. I have to meet up with that horrid Patil girl from Gryffindor afterwards, and I'm sure I'll be sufficiently wrung out after that, so I won't want to even think about work later."
"Okay, Daph," Astoria said.
"I'll see you guys some other time." Daphne gave both of the boys a look that said they needed to talk.
Things were a little weird this year, and she certainly didn't have all of the details, but she was worried.
It looked to her as if they were growing apart, and she wouldn't be able to handle having her two best friends behave coldly towards each other. It would be awkward and strange to say the least. She glared at them both, Work it out! Draco rolled his eyes and Blaise just winked at her. She turned away from them was a huff of exasperation, and steered her sister towards the girls' dormitories. "How's your project coming along," Blaise asked shifting on the stool from a nudge from Harry. His back was starting to hurt and he wanted some support.
Blaise couldn't help but smile as Harry silently and slowly inched backwards until he was able to easily lie on Blaise's chest unobtrusively.
Blaise almost couldn't hide his mirth at the imagined picture of Draco's face if he were to see Harry lying upon him so casually. He could also imagine Harry's pretty blush as he boldly positioned himself over Blaise's body. Blaise kept his hands carefully on the armrest to avoid unconsciously touching Harry and having his hand float strangely in the air.
"It's actually not too terrible. I feared the worst when I was paired with Longbottom, but aside from potions he's a decent wizard," Draco drawled. Harry was surprised by that statement; Malfoy hadn't even spat Neville's name with disdain. He seemed perfectly indifferent. "He's a more composed lion; thank the heavens, so we work efficiently together."
Blaise nodded. "How about yourself?" Blaise tilted his head and considered how honest to be with his best friend. He wasn't going to lie to Draco, but he didn't want to upset him either. Considering though, how he fond he was becoming of the little Gryffindor on top of him, he decided to be open with Draco so that his friend would be prepared.
"Potter's fairly brilliant. I never noticed because the Granger chit was always butting in before Potter can speak, but Harry's been amazing on this project. He's highly intuitive when it comes to magic," Blaise commented in an even tone. Draco couldn't help but glare at Blaise.
"I see." Harry, for his part, was struggling to breathe. Hearing Blaise compliment him in such a way was astounding, and he didn't know how to respond.
Luckily, he didn't have to, so he just laid there and tried not to be too aware of the heated body beneath him. He wasn't sure what possessed him
relieve his back, but this move was more natural and decidedly more pleasurable, to be sure. The flips his stomach was doing was telling enough.
"You aren't jealous are you?" Blaise asked, teasingly, hoping to stave off a fight. Draco's eyes narrowed further,
"Of course not, it's only been a few weeks in the Savior's presence and you've already fallen into his grasp. What's there to be upset about? I figured you'd be lost sooner than this. I'm actually impressed with you." Blaise sighed.
"Look Draco, what's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" Draco hissed. "You-" Blaise cut his off, "I know there's something bothering you aside from Harry-" "
Harry," Draco choked.
"You're on a first name basis?" Blaise soldiered on like he didn't hear him,
"You're not sleeping, using heavy glamours and drinking way too much pepper-up." Draco blanched before cutting back, "Like you would know, you're never around. You didn't even sleep here last night. What would you know about anything?"
"Draco," Blaise said quietly in a commanding voice that slithered down Harry's spine straight to his groin. "Be honest with me now. I want to help you. Don't deflect." Draco remained silent, and Harry began to think that he wouldn't answer Blaise at all.
Draco continued to glare at his friend before he sighed and collapsed onto the couch, resting his head and arms along the back of the suede black divan.
"Look, there are just some things that I can't tell you. I really want to, but," the blonde exhaled a heavy, pained breath, "I really can't." Blaise narrowed his eyes and contemplated how much to say in front of Harry,
"It has something to do with your summer guests?" Draco closed his eyes and nodded; the exhaustion and strain was apparent on his face.
"Draco," Blaise called, shifting a little to nudge his friend with his foot.
"I am here to help you whenever you need it." The Italian felt Harry stiffen on his chest, and Blaise felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, but he soldiered on. In this moment, he hoped to make both of them understand.
"My family is neutral, and I daresay we'll stay that way, but I will not let you fall by the wayside. I can see how this tearing you up, whatever it is. If you need my help, you need only ask for it. I can give you sanctuary if you want." Draco smiled at the ceiling before gazing at Blaise.
"You're such a nice guy Blaise. I think you should have been a Hufflepuff." Blaise scoffed and turned his head, "Whatever."
"I won't drag your family into this Blaise if I could avoid it, so don't worry. This isn't anything I can't handle," he lied.
'Moreover, if I seek sanctuary alone I don't know what he'll do to my parents.' Blaise nodded his understanding, but still hoped to convince his friend that he was a viable option should he want to get out. "I understand, but our doors will remain open to all of you no matter what." "I understand," and really he did, but he was hesitant. These were his parents they were talking about. He had to be sure of every little detail before he made any hasty decisions. Running to Blaise would make the Zabinis number one targets for the dark side, and without help from Potter or Dumbledore - loathe as he was to admit it - they wouldn't stand a chance against the Dark Lord. Draco wasn't sure if he was willing to put his family or Blaise's at risk without some insurance.