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christmasspirit) wrote2021-04-22 09:28 pm
christmasspirit) wrote2021-04-22 09:28 pm
Entry tags:
- aurors,
- beginnings,
- blaise zabini,
- canoodling,
- christmas spirit au,
- dmle,
- fanfic,
- fluff,
- hestia carrow,
- hogmanay,
- hogwarts,
- hogwarts eighth year,
- lavender brown,
- new year's,
- post-war,
- slight angst,
- slytherins,
- the bloody baron,
- the effects of lycanthrope attacks,
- the fat friar,
- the patronus charm,
- theo nott,
- winter
"off to a flying start 2" (a couple of castle encounters part 4b) by gingerbred
01 January, 1999. Lavender and Blaise start the new year off with a bang. Or two. What better way is there?
Written with oodles of love formywitch. ❤️
Originally Published: 2021-04-22 on LJ / DW
Chapter: 4b
Words: 7.5 K
Rating: Mature
Characters: Lavender Brown (8G), Blaise Zabini (8S), the Bloody Baron (Slytherin's House Ghost), Mentioned: Professor Severus Snape (Potions Master, Head of Slytherin, and Deputy Headmaster), Professor Minerva McGonagall (Headmistress), Hermione Granger (Transfiguration Apprentice, Lavender's erstwhile roommate), Harry Potter (8G, the boy who lived to make Draco smile), Draco Malfoy (8S, nearly unrecognisable given all the smiling he's doing), Theo Nott (8S, dating Hestia Carrow), Hestia Carrow (7S, Chaser, victim of a werewolf assault), Edgar Martins (7R, Prefect), the DMLE (Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Ministerial Home of the Aurors), Rita Skeeter (Reporter for the Daily Prophet)
The original version of this chapter exceeded livejournal's maximum post length. It's been split in two parts.
THIS CHAPTER IS A TWO-PARTER.
**SCROLL DOWN AND READ THE OTHER PART FIRST** (4a LJ / DW)
They lie there, limbs entwined, luxuriating in the afterglow of their latest coupling. Her Patronus is curled up beside them as if she were sleeping and Blaise is too damn sated to care at this point. If she wants to, let her. He'd be the last one to want to impose restrictions on her anymore, and they're fast becoming friends.
"Do you have a lot of practice using your Patronus for that?" He asks - curious, gauging, and perhaps fishing, just a little - running a fingertip over Lavender's arm as her blush returns. It extends a fair bit of the way down her chest in a manner that piques his interest. He'll never not think of that becoming rosy glow of her breasts when he sees her blush again.
"I most certainly do not," she replies, aghast, and he laughs again. She's too, too easy to provoke. "I've never used her for anything like that before tonight." He considers it progress if the notion of the Patronus' use with a multitude of partners is the cause of the Gryffindor's embarrassment as opposed to her use at all. He's becoming quite the fan.
Merlin.
He doesn't say so, but he rather likes that he was her first, too. It's nice to have shared that. Instead he remarks, "It didn't require a command."
"No," she agrees. She hadn't known for sure it would work until it did, but had strongly suspected it should. "I think because it was so straightforward." Blaise is rather proud of himself when he reacts not at all to that. There was nothing whatsoever straightforward about it. "It's far less complicated than a message." That at least is correct.
He merely nods and smiles, "And I imagine the intent was strong..." Smiling herself now, she swats at him; he has no room to dodge, but catches her hand in mid air and kisses her fingers. She likes that. She suspects it means she'll try swatting him more often, not that she'd really wanted to be like that, but... Eventually she'll learn to ask for what she wants, but in the meantime, she's far from unresourceful. And she has a sneaking suspicion Blaise will catch on.
When they've had a chance to catch their breath, she sits up and dismisses her Patronus. Blaise waits for her to reach for her cloak again. This time she doesn't. This, too, is progress. He's bright enough not to call attention to it. He hasn't put on a lick of clothing since he first removed it, reclining there, very demonstratively naked; if he's comfortable, she will become more so too. But he's not the only one to have done some thinking.
Of the two of them, Blaise is unquestionably the better student. With Ron, he received more recognition than she did, sure, but to hear him tell it, he'd earned it, and what mattered: despite that, Lav had never really felt inferior to him. And after all the years being compared to Hermione in one way or another, that's something she's a little sensitive to. So that makes Blaise's academic superiority an issue. She can admit that. Except Blaise clearly can't cast a Patronus. And she can. And he's shown some interest in the Charm...
Two approaches seem readily apparent. She could leave things as they are and retain the status quo, giving herself something to feel superior about... Or she could try to apply some of the things the Baron had spoken about, dig a little deeper, be a little more generous, and attempt to teach Zabini how to perform the Spell. Admittedly the Baron had mostly tried to point out that her previous choice in partners at times hadn't been all that giving, and that it was something a witch should feel free to require of a partnership, but given the use of that word, 'partnership', as a modern woman she's taking it to mean something both parties should expect. (Which is presumably for the best, and also why ghosts who passed a thousand years ago probably aren't the very best sources for dating advice.)
And after some of the things Blaise had just done for her... Heavens. Well, she's feeling in a rather generous mood herself.
"What do you say I teach you how to cast a Patronus, and then you can return the favour?" She's really proud of that. It feels almost Slytherin, she is sure. It makes it sound as if she were interested in... well, that - which, fine, maybe, just a little - and she thinks it makes it more likely he won't see it as her trying to do him any favours or anything. That should, to her way of thinking, increase the chances he'd accept, and it still establishes her as someone willing to share her knowledge. In fact, now that she's run through the permutations (admittedly after having extended the offer; there are reasons she's a Moggie), she's incredibly proud of that. She should have been a Snake.
And if he takes her a for a little, erm, bolder than she is, that probably won't hurt either, because he seems utterly devoid of inhibitions... Goodness.
But for all his apparent interest in the Charm, judging by his expression alone, somewhat confusingly Blaise appears less than enthusiastic at her offer. She just doesn't get him. That's only fair, it isn't always easy to put oneself in someone else's shoes. Unfortunately its justification doesn't help her understand him any better either.
And yet it's fairly simple, really.
Frankly he doesn't like to fail.
None of his family can cast a Patronus. None of his friends can either. Nor any of their families, to the best of his knowledge, and that seems like the sort of thing someone would have boasted about if that weren't the case. In fact, aside from the witch, no one in his sphere of influence seems able to conjure a Patronus, corporeal or otherwise.
So he just sort of shrugs, noncommittally.
Hmm.
Lav doesn't quite follow his train of thought, how could she, but can make some educated guesses and isn't afraid to try. It's part of the reason she thought the Charm had attracted his attention, and at least part of the reason she thought offering to teach him could be seen as a kindness. Thanks to the Daily Prophet, everyone knows the Death Eaters couldn't cast a Patronus. That had been a key part of the evidence brought to help exonerate the former Headmaster. Not that Blaise is a Death Eater obviously, that's too, too stupid, he isn't of course. But also thanks to the Prophet's extensive coverage of the proceedings at the end of the war, everyone is aware Blaise - and almost all the other older members of his House - had been subjected to hearings before they were permitted to return to the school, it was heavily implied to assure that no Death Eaters would be attending Hogwarts. Fine, it was probably more than implied. In fact, now that she thinks about it, they'd proclaimed the hearings insufficiently stringent. Repeatedly. There weren't really any concrete claims levied against them, but that's never stopped the Prophet before. That lack of specificity naturally only made it more difficult to defend against, there was nothing to disprove after all. But as was, Rita and her poison quill hadn't stopped making accusations all autumn. Presumably the summer had been even worse, but Lav had had other things on her mind, what with all her appointments at St. Mungo's and recovering from the attack...
It's probable, now that she considers it, that Blaise and the others have had a tough go of it.
"There's no reason it shouldn't work," she tries to reassure him, leaving a bunch of things unsaid in case she were wrong about the reasons for his hesitation, or worse: right.
He may just have emitted a 'hmmm' noise in reply, cheers. She'd be offended that he's calling her (thoroughly untested) teaching skills into question, except she's fairly certain by now that isn't the issue. He'd had absolutely no problem allowing her to order him around in full, erm, flight - yes, she does rather like that - quite evidently willing to do anything she'd asked. In light of that, she considers it unlikely, then, that he takes issue with learning from a witch. Or a Gryffindor, if it came to that. Which means the possible causes for his reluctance here are dwindling...
"You're not a Death Eater," she blurts, because apparently that is her wheelhouse. She's about as subtle as a bludger...
"How kind." The look he gives her is withering and his tone is clipped; he's obviously less than pleased, and she toys with mortification once more as he finally turns away. Fine, but then Blaise can be very direct as well - no one else has ever asked about her scars - so why shouldn't she be entitled to such bluntness as well? Rallying, she resolves to stick to her wands and see the conversation through.
"There's nothing kind about it, Blaise, it's merely a statement of fact." Appropriately, she thinks, she attempts to sound as matter-of-fact as she can, and that earns her a more intrigued look. Which is a relief. She wouldn't have thought it mattered if he were angry with her, but it seems it does. "There is no earthly reason a student of your calibre shouldn't be able to master the Spell like everything else you're capable of doing." She's embracing her inner Slytherin and hoping the compliment will make him more willing to hear her words, all the more so because she's certain of the truth of her claim.
That it sounds more like the statement she'd claimed than a compliment proves helpful, and he finally opens up, at least a bit, "Not a single member of my House can cast one."
"Professor Snape can," she objects instantly and with absolute conviction. Everyone knows the story, and he doesn't argue. In fact, thinking of it, he gains a little hope.
For a moment.
And then he remembers all the comments - and they were many - about how the Professor had been sorted into the wrong House, cheers. Which immediately calls to mind how that in turn had led to a whole, ugly discussion last summer, after the trials and the Professor was cleared, of delaying the Firsties' House Sorting until the second term or even the second year. Because a Slytherin apparently can't cast a Patronus or be a hero. It's as though the whole wizarding world agrees, this just isn't something a Slytherin should be able to do. Ergo there was something flawed in the sorting process.
Lovely.
His face has a grim set about it that practically shouts his defiance just as loudly as he himself remains silent.
"Stop feeling so sorry for yourself," she admonishes, hoping she's right. It was a gamble; if it doesn't ring true, he's less likely to believe anything else she has to say. But his eyes dart to her again and so she continues, "You simply need to let go of your negative mindset and apply yourself."
He snorts, because some things just aren't that simple as the witch should well know. "Does that work for you when the moon is full?" He asks, and she immediately deflates. It's almost as though he'd landed a physical blow, and he regrets it immediately.
"I don't turn or anything," she murmurs quietly, and he feels a complete and utter heel.
"Of course not. Don't be silly." A model of dispassionate objectivity, somehow he finds himself applying her approach right back to her. "You aren't a werewolf." He considers himself fortunate when it works on her as well. "Being attacked by one when the moon isn't full doesn't render a person a werewolf. Everyone knows that." As some of the prejudice she's encountered proves, they most certainly do not, and her expression reflects that. "Well they would do," he hastens to add, "had Lupin been anything like a decent Professor, and actually taught the curriculum."
That makes her smile, albeit a bit shyly, but he immediately feels better about things. He wouldn't have thought it should have mattered if he'd annoyed her, but it seems it does. Hmm. He also hadn't thought he'd be capable of genuinely hurting her - surely he'd have to matter for that; but perhaps the wound is just too raw. Or maybe the fact they'd been intimate, quite, lends him and his words an importance he hadn't anticipated.
A little uncharacteristically wanting to keep her in better spirits - gods, it really had been too long since he's been with someone like this - he decides the best course of action at this juncture would be to take her up on her offer to teach him the Patronus Charm and asks if she'd mind letting him use her wand.
"Sure," she replies, handing it to him, and only then asking, "But why not use your own? That has to simplify casting, especially when you're learning?"
"There's still the Trace on it," he reminds her, only half explaining, and leaving it up to her to guess why that might make a difference. It's not as though the Patronus Charm should get him into trouble, but perhaps he worries it could expose him to ridicule or be used as some sort of logically flawed corroboration that he were a Death Eater after all...
And then suddenly a couple of other, unrelated things fall into place for her.
"You can perform the Divesto wandlessly." He'd done so on his own clothes earlier, this isn't a question anymore. As it wasn't anything remotely like a direction he'd expected the conversation to go, he's caught unawares and simply nods a touch dumbly in reply. "And yet you used your wand to remove my jeans." And just like that, he knows this isn't going to go well. "Why?"
That was clearly an accusation in a single word if ever he's heard one, and he's heard a lot of accusations in the past months.
"Because there's a Trace on my wand," he answers honestly and hopes for the best. "I didn't use it on myself because they certainly don't need to know the details of what, where and when."
She shakes her head, "That's why you didn't use it on yourself. If you didn't want them knowing the details, why did you use it on me?" There are a couple of possibilities, bragging rights first and foremost running through her mind, but she isn't prepared for his answer.
"Because a Divesto only works if you have permission," he answers quietly. She stares at him appalled as he finishes with the now obvious, "It's proof of consent."
Afterwards she isn't proud of it, she knows it was completely rubbish, but she hauls off and slaps him. Fairly hard. It's a decent blow that leaves his cheek stinging. She knows perfectly well that he could have avoided it had he wished, and takes it as a sign of acceptance. Still... What's bad for the gander is bad for the goose? Or something like that. It was wrong. But in the moment she's far too busy being furious to be reasonable.
"After everything we did!" She's close to shrieking - very belatedly, he flicks up a Privacy Charm - and that it makes little sense to argue with things that had come after the Clothes Removing Spell in question... Well that escapes her just now. Retroactively she's deciding he'd come rather close to taking her virtue... Yes, she thinks it could be seen that way, sort of. One thing, or maybe the other... Anyway, there had been a bunch of firsts here, and he'd thought he needed proof of consent. It's like he doesn't trust her.
It's much fairer to say he doesn't trust anybody.
"You could do... all that, with me, but you don't trust me enough not to document my permission."
"'All that', as you put it, came after. And it's worth noting it evolved dynamically and was nothing I'd expected in advance. And the one has nothing to do with the other, anyway." She isn't buying it, not at all, and so he explains further, "After everything they put us through the last eight months, all the accusations, the hearings... It has nothing whatsoever to do with you. Portraits, ghosts, staff, fellow students... You're never really alone, never unobserved in the castle. All it takes is the wrong someone making a report and someone else getting the wrong end of the wand and demanding answers of you, and under pressure everyone folds."
She's aghast.
He's sorry to have to break it to her, but that's the truth of the matter. If the right measures are taken to work a person long enough... That's one thing the summer had proven beyond any doubt, under the right circumstances, eventually the accusations flow. "It's nothing personal," he tries to console her again.
She fails to see how it isn't.
"I didn't have a choice, Lavender."
She's silent for a little while, considering, and he can't think of a good way to remedy things. He's convinced he's in the right. Merlin, the Head had discussed this with them at the start of term, as though any of them would have been stupid enough not to recognise the predicament they all found themselves in... Blaise had done what he should. But perhaps it might have helped to explain his situation and its ramifications to the witch in advance...
But then it's not like she'd discussed her exposure to the lycanthrope either. If he hadn't known the score from other sources...
He wishes things would go back to how they'd been, this is the first night he's truly enjoyed himself in... He can't remember how long.
But then she still hasn't left their little couch or even reached for her clothes. Given the witch, that says something. He still has a chance here.
"The way I see it," he smarms, not nearly as confidently as it sounds as the hesitancy of his touch conveys, "two options present themselves here." He draws his fingertips lightly over her arm, waiting to see if she pulls away. She does not. She doesn't want things between them to end on this note any more than he does. "We can have angry sex..." Her eyes widen instantly at his brazenness. "It has much to recommend it," he assures the clearly incredulous witch. "Or you can forgive me first and then we could have perfectly lovely make up sex. I'd prefer the latter, but I'm open for suggestions." He slides closer to her, half wrapping his naked body around hers. He's absolutely gorgeous, and although she'd like to think she isn't shallow, damn if that doesn't have a way of making her forget why she's angry.
She snorts, trying unsuccessfully to suppress a laugh. "Absolutely not," she shoots his proposition down. But as she can also 'safely claim a certain degree of acquaintance' with his body, too, she thinks he hadn't made the suggestion in earnest. He's nothing like ready for her.
Yet.
She rather likes knowing she has the power to change that.
She leans over and kisses him gently, tentative at first, deepening the kiss when he responds. She prefers things this way.
He's a little breathless when she finally breaks it off, and yes, she vastly prefers him this way. "Then how about you teach me the Patronus Charm?" He manages between breaths. "Or are you just a horrible tease?"
Resolute, and he really should have been smarter about things, she climbs into his lap, straddling him, pressing her chest to his and kisses him until he sees stars. He'd like to attribute it to oxygen deprivation, but has a feeling that doesn't begin to account for the effect she has on him. She begins groping about the couch and he's briefly hopeful, until she retrieves her wand and places it in his hand. "Let's get started then," she proposes as she climbs off once more.
His cock nods its agreement, clearly not having taken her meaning in the least. "You can't be serious." He objects. (And that was most assuredly not the whine it sounded like. Except it very clearly was.)
"I wouldn't want you to think me a tease," she smiles sweetly, her smile morphing into something lascivious, and gods, he's never wanted to fuck someone more. It's the dry spell. Surely. Unless it isn't.
He's grateful she's forgiven him for earlier, and later he might argue he'd been in the right, but with his todger at attention and the most gorgeous witch he's ever seen in all her naked splendour before him... She'd object to the characterisation were he to voice it, and he'd have to explain it isn't an absolute scale, but that would prove too revealing, and having not learnt his lesson he keeps the thoughts to himself. But then at the moment, he'd only be likely to make a hash of it anyway.
"Show me how," he replies simply, and she takes his hand in hers and leads him through the Charm. He has little trouble conjuring happier thoughts with her beside him - would all lessons be so enjoyable - but things remain slightly tinged with doubt, and try as he might he isn't able to produce more than a few telltale blue sparks. If he were any less sure of his sexuality - as if - he might take it for another metaphor. Fortunately he can compartmentalise, and ultimately he hadn't expected to succeed. That those expectations have a direct effect on the results should be clear to both parties, but sometimes that's all too easy to forget.
It's hard going, Lav knows that herself. Honestly, he's made more progress in far less time than she had - and yes, it's just a bit of a relief that he hasn't succeeded outright, she'd had to work hard for it. But what's clear is they need a break.
Which might just mean one thing...
A touch worried that the failure with the Spell might cause him to call his virility into doubt, she retakes her position on his lap, rubbing her breasts against him as she relieves him of her wand. She should wonder where she gets ideas like that, that the masculine ego is so inherently fragile, and what it might say about the company she'd kept, but she hasn't yet learnt that things needn't be that way. It will come with time. As will she, if the wizard has anything to say about it. She smiles into his kiss as she pictures seducing him.
"We might need to regroup," she explains between snogs.
"Yes," comes his less than considered reply. Subjective scales of attractiveness and general fuckability aside, no one has ever kissed him as much as she does. He wouldn't have thought it, but he quite likes all this kissing, failing to register he'd initiated a fair bit of it himself. She has that effect on him.
This is nice.
Merlin, he wants more.
What goes a long way to ensuring he gets it is the fact he doesn't once push for it. Her last words on the matter were 'absolutely not'; they're law until she recants. But heavens is she a test of his willpower.
One of her hands threads its way between them reaching for his eager cock. His lips are about to close over her nearest nipple when he pulls himself together, with an act of what he'd consider inhuman strength he drags his eyes from those enticing breasts to look her in the eyes and ask, "Are you sure?" She nods. "What happened to 'absolutely not'?" He's hoping that doesn't sound too much like he's trying to rub things in...
"A witch's prerogative, I changed my mind." She kisses him ferociously before stopping again. "You have my unequivocal blessing."
He laughs. He likes the way that feels. He's done more of it tonight than he had all term. And he supposes that was her way of saying she forgives him for earlier. He likes the way that feels, too. "I don't think it works that way. It was more about officials checking my wand."
"The only one who should be checking your wand..." she jokes, grinding her hips against him suggestively before reaching for him again. She's not sure where she takes the courage from to suggest such a thing, she has no claim to him, but then maybe that's why she's a Gryffindor. But she's still a touch relieved when he laughs again in reply instead of shooting her down. "Anyway, it would help with a Pensieve examination." Last year it seemed like practically no one had heard of the things. This year everyone knows all about them.
For a Slytherin with access to a Contemplatieve, the device's existence had hardly come as a surprise, but his outrage at the suggestion is instant. "Over my dead body. Shy of an Imperio, there's no way I'm sharing these memories. They're ours." His lips finally latch onto her nipple as his arms tighten a touch possessively about her, leaving him sadly unclear as to the reason for her giggle of delight. Fair enough, he's equally unclear where his possessiveness is coming from. He has a vague sense her wolf draws that out in him, but anything more...
Her hand soon sees to it he's incapable of pursuing such lines of thought, or thinking in general for that matter.
Overrated.
Clearly.
Particularly in light of the options.
"You prefer the term 'cunt'?" He asks, genuinely curious, especially as she'd used it again, and frankly he had her pegged differently.
She certainly hadn't expected the question, and yes she's a little embarrassed she used the term, but she feels safe and happy and so she answers, "I'm not entirely sure to be honest, but the wolf objects to 'pussy'..."
"I could see why," he laughs and soon has her laughing, too.
"You prefer the term 'cunt'," she tells him quite certainly and with a decidedly hungry grin. His cock does have a tendency to give things like that away.
He laughs again, "I do when you use it." She's trying to work though the double entendre and decide what he actually meant, never considering he means it in both senses. He can be efficient that way, and may have a proclivity for hiding behind quips. But he likes the way she's clearly pushing her boundaries and he very much likes that she's doing it with him.
"Why can't they just use Priori Incantato?" She asks, pausing in her caresses to indicate his wand lying atop his nearly forgotten pile of clothing.
"They can and they do," he assures her a touch grimly. "And in this case, that would have been the relevant Spell. The Trace is more of an issue if you forget what you're about and cast something that can be called into question. Then suddenly the Aurors appear..."
"They can Apparate? Into Hogwarts??" Hermione had been her roommate for six and a half years, and the witch's favourite book was 'Hogwarts: a History'. As the topic was covered only too thoroughly therein, Lavender knows perfectly well that you can't Apparate on the school grounds. Everyone in their room does.
"Why yes," he answers, sounding strained. "The DMLE now has an exception in place."
"Oh, I'm sure Professor McGonagall was thrilled." Professor Snape unquestionably more so, he can't help thinking. "So if you do the wrong spell..." Her eyebrow raises in invitation, he can't mean something as obvious as the Cruciatus, and Blaise elaborates.
"Last week Theo was a little incautious with... the witch he's seeing." Blaise sees no point in dragging Hestia into it by name. "He'd performed a Spell that creates magical restraints..." Since she'd survived the werewolf attack, Blaise gathers restraints weren't a half bad idea, even when the moon wasn't full. The poor witch had gotten a particularly vicious case.
"Sort of like the Incarcerous?" Lavender sounds just a bit hopeful as she asks. Blaise would have to say he welcomes that development.
"Much like it," he agrees, "but perhaps a little more... suited for the purpose." That has her very curious indeed, and she considers the question as to which of them knows more spells definitively answered, completely forgetting to count the vast range of Beauty Charms she's mastered, although presumably they're a little less... 'suited' to such purposes, as he put it. Anyway he certainly knows more interesting ones. "And the next thing he knew, the Aurors appeared in the girls' dorms, setting off the klaxons in the process and waking everyone else just in time to see them taking him into custody."
"Oh."
"Oh," he agrees solemnly. "They didn't even let him get dressed first." That thought just makes her blink.
She's had Nott in her courses for seven and a half years now. She may well never look at him the same way again. But that? What a horrifying scenario. She can picture him being frogmarched in the altogether past his Housemates all too clearly.
"Everyone?" Her voice breaks at the very idea. How humiliating.
He knows exactly what she means. "Everyone who stayed over the hols anyway." She blinks again as she considers it. "That's most of us," he tries to make it a little clearer.
"That's rotten." Blaise couldn't agree more. "Surely there was no call for that."
The Slytherin smirks at the memory, "His witch nearly took three Aurors apart at the seams once she was free."
Lavender tries not to chuckle, but doesn't quite succeed. "That seems a poor way to thank them for the rescue." She doesn't sound sympathetic at all. Blaise grins in agreement.
"Oh, they didn't free her. Theo's spell failed relatively quickly. Intent and all that. It transpires arrest has a way of ruining the mood. Who'd have guessed?"
"Poor Theo," Lavender commiserates, and Blaise finds he appreciates that, and the somehow more inclusive 'Theo' instead of 'Nott'. "Did they arrest the witch too? For the assault?"
"Professors Snape and McGonagall were able to make them see reason." In fact, Professor Snape had drawn his wand, and as absolutely everyone these days had an all too clear idea of what the wizard could do without it... Both the Headmistress and her Deputy had Apparated in independently only moments after the Aurors, some warning or another triggered by their arrival, and had immediately taken them to task. That had been a sight to behold, the duo fearsome, incongruously somehow more so because they were in their sleepwear. Professor Snape hadn't even bothered to throw on his dressing gown, he'd arrived only in his pyjama bottoms and simply Protegoed his bare feet and attacked, securing several Aurors rather fiercely against the wall before even one had moved. McGonagall, true to form, had sorted the small rest somewhat more gently, but no less decisively.
That had been rather enjoyable really, and it was nice to know she'd come to their defence. Professor Snape had even threatened to remove the Aurors' uniforms, leaving them just as naked as Theo - and vulnerable, as he was sure to add - but the Headmistress had talked him down, or at least pretended to. 'They were only trying to protect the students, after all.' The Slytherins knew it's nowhere near that simple, it never is and there had been no excuse whatsoever (beyond malice) for the Aurors' treatment of Theo, but they'd soon had his roommate sorted and apparently the threat alone of such an assault from their Head of House had been enough to put the fear of the gods into the tossers.
Good.
Blaise has come to hate the entire Department of Magical Law Enforcement with a passion in the past months.
"Anyway, the bottom line is it's a good idea to always be able to prove what's happened, that you're on the right side of the law, and of course to always do certain spells without your wand. Or not at all." He shrugs.
Lav puts a hand on his arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze and then follows up with a soft kiss.
"I'm sorry," she tells him. For their misunderstanding before, for slapping him, for this. She doesn't need to say it, she's fairly easy to read, and even more appealingly: sincere.
Blaise kisses the top of her head in thanks. He appreciates the small token of support more than he'd have expected. Thinking about it, he realises as a House they've felt pretty isolated this past term. It really has been a wretched case of 'us' versus all of 'them'. He hadn't registered quite how lonely it was until now.
Reluctantly, more so now that he's formulated those thoughts, he concludes that he owes her the same generosity she's shown him. He wizards up. "We can pretend this never happened you know," he offers, rather generously he thinks, the complete idiot, as he lies there stroking her side. This comes out of the blue as far as she's concerned, and she's never been so insulted in her life. And that includes the whole Ron fiasco, thank you kindly.
She's clearly upset, but that might be advantageous in as much as he'd have to be an utter lackwit to miss it at this point.
"Lavender, stop. It's entirely up to you. I'm serious. I just meant that it isn't advantageous to be associated with a Slytherin these days. Not like this. We don't have to let this change anything between us."
"Change things from as we are now, or as we were before???" She bristles, pulling away to see him more clearly from a distance. She wants to gauge his reaction, because she really doesn't understand where he's coming from.
"I had no expectations..." he tries to explain, but all she hears is that she shouldn't have any either. She's still withdrawing, so he takes a deep breath and tries to explain it to her, at least roughly. What it means to be a Slytherin in the castle this year. What it means to have been associated with the 'wrong' people last year. The very serious repercussions they face, the prejudice. That these were things that rubbed off on others, guilt by association, and that she could easily avoid them by simply pretending none of this had happened. It was that simple. That was all he'd meant.
A case can certainly be made for karma, and Merlin knows some savour the irony that his House in turn now suffers most acutely from others' prejudices, but that doesn't change the facts. It isn't pleasant, and she needn't be tarred with the same brush should she so choose.
He's underestimated how stubborn the witch is, and how little she likes letting others dictate her choices these days. There's been enough of that since the werewolf's attack. "But Professor Snape and Hermione, Draco and Harry..." she objects offering what she considers incontrovertible proof that he's talking out of his arse.
"Except I'm no Professor Snape. Or Draco either, for that matter." While the suggestion that two of the golden trio deemed them 'worthy' made the House as a whole seem more acceptable in public, both wizards had taken nontrivial amounts of typically anonymous flak for their relationships, and it was still early days. Blaise expects it will get much worse for them in the weeks to come, especially after all the students return, and he doubts it will be much easier for Granger or Potter.
Lavender won't contest the first point - Professor Snape? the transcripts of the trials make that a fool's errand - but the second doesn't sit well with her at all. "You're every bit as good as Draco," she insists, but then she's never seen the blond in a serious duel. He'd lived with the madman and his entourage in the family home for so long... And of course she doesn't want to hear the implied 'she's no Hermione.' Except she knows she isn't.
She's pouting and more than a bit mulish, and Blaise is more eager than he'd have thought to get back on better footing. "Well I'm every bit as good as Draco at some things, anyway. Maybe better." He kisses her and then waggles a brow suggestively, and it's enough to make her giggle again, which comes as a relief. By now he sort of has her number, and suggests she resume trying to teach him the Patronus Charm. It seems safer ground.
Still conflicted, she nevertheless complies. It's a point of pride now, and she redoubles her efforts. (They are in no way inferior to Draco or Hermione, and she did not, however briefly, think the words 'power couple' in reference to Blaise and herself; fine, Ron may have rubbed off a little.) If willpower alone were enough to make it so, that surely would have done the trick and they'd have succeeded. Unfortunately it isn't and Blaise is having even more problems than he was before.
"Are you just tired?" She asks as she watches him take her wand through the motions unsuccessfully once yet again. "Using someone else's wand takes more out of you." She really should ask why she's so concerned about the potential fragility of his ego without any proof of such a thing.
He runs his hand through his hair - given its extremely short length, that's really more like running it across his scalp. He's growing frustrated. He can't seem to find an appropriate memory. They're just all tainted. No longer basking in the post-sex hormone-fuelled rush, he's trying to select something more substantial, something that should work in contrast to his failures before. It would have been when the Slytherin team had won an especially close match, coming through in the end with some truly impressive plays, except he can't recall that without thinking of Vince, and then the whole last year comes crashing back, and everything since...
Lavender feels bad for him. This had been her idea after all, and at the moment at least, it seems like it might be making things worse. If anything, it was thinking about how the forces of the DMLE had come bursting into their House, and humiliated and arrested one of his friends simply because he'd had a little non-conventional sex. If any of them were likely to face such a result, Theo was practically the least likely to do so. Or maybe Daphne, but still. Somehow that had just made it worse.
Lav thinks furiously, reviewing everything she knows about the Charm, a little desperate to come up with some way to help him with it. A touch timidly she places her hand on his arm once more and stops him from attempting the cast yet again. She's uncertain, she really doesn't want to make any more of this than it was, but she summons some courage to suggest he'd looked happy before, maybe that was the approach to take? Using those thoughts? Those memories?
"There's a difference between satisfied and happy," he explains, which seems kind of insulting. She removes her hand, subconsciously withdrawing slightly, but he's more attuned to her now and he pulls her right back, tucking her in at his side with one arm. He likes her there.
"Please don't get me wrong, Lavender. After last year..." He sighs, takes a breath, and continues, "I haven't been truly happy, unreservedly happy in a very long time." That may have been the most honest thing he's said in years, including his testimony under Veritaserum. And then he tops it, "But for what it's worth, this is probably the closest I've come."
She thinks about it for a minute, tries to fight back a smile in the face of his admission - because Merlin knows, that was nothing to smile about - and then somewhat quietly suggests, "Then maybe you should keep coming?" It's not the callow come on he first takes it for. She doesn't reach for him. It isn't even followed by a kiss, and those had certainly been plentiful and ready enough, so he's paying attention now.
"How do you mean?" He asks a little cautiously, not wanting to risk another misunderstanding.
She nibbles her lip and blushes, taking a finger and somewhat absently tracing the Patronus Charm repeatedly on his forearm. "There are still a few days left around the full moon." True enough, but he waits for her to make her point before leaping to conclusions. "We could still meet. No none has to know," she hastens to reassure him, endeavouring to accept his earlier suggestion, at least as she'd taken it. "We can do this secretly if that's what you think is best." Goodness knows, she'd done it all last term; she's practised. She wasn't exactly eager to go there again, not by any means, but it's hardly a stretch at this point, and this had been... very nice. She knows from experience her wolf will become even more dominant in the next few days, this was a far better way to try to assuage its needs, and if that's what it takes to see him again... Well.
"The rest of the school won't be back until Sunday night anyway," she keeps trying to convince him. "So it's not like we'd even have to try very hard to keep it quiet."
He smirks. "The way you yelled earlier, I'm not so sure about the 'keeping it quiet' part..." he teases.
She swats at him once more, and as he had before, he catches the hand and kisses it again. Yes, that's definitely going to become a thing. She grins. "Anyway you're one to talk," she chides playfully. "You were pretty loud yourself."
"Gods yes," he sighs. "I do like a witch who can make me scream." He lies there grinning a bit stupidly for a while. He'd worry it isn't the best look, but the witch is fairly obviously enamoured of the effect she has on him. If anything, he thinks it might just make him more appealing in her eyes. He has no qualms letting that work to his advantage.
Feeling a little bold himself, he seeks her gaze, "You know, it doesn't have to stop with the waning moon. Not if you don't want it to?" He offers, rather more hopefully than he'd have ever thought possible just a few hours ago. A lot can change in fairly litte time.
Lav now has a very different problem, "I'm... I'm not usually like this." She worries her lip nervously, concerned she wouldn't be enough. Too prosaic, too boring, too... vanilla. "With the full moon... Things are different. I'm different."
"Then I'd be happy to get to know the other you, if you let me," he kisses her fingers rather gallantly as if in emphasis. He's a fast learner.
"The real me?" She feels the need to clarify, silently cursing the pedantry nevertheless.
Blaise shakes his head, "The other you. Both are 'real', Lavender. And with time comes trust, then people are usually different with one another anyway and things like that become less of an issue."
She has another brief moment of panic wondering how much experience that 'usually' implies and feeling as if she's in way over her head, but his gaze doesn't waver, and she finds herself really wanting to see if she could be enough to satisfy him without the stupid moon at work. She's never felt as desirable in her life as she's felt tonight, and after the attack last May... She never would have thought it possible. To be so wanted? Despite everything that monster had done to her? No, she wants more of this. Much more. And if they need to keep it to themselves? So be it.
Still uncertain she'll be able to keep his interest without the moon and her inner wolf in play, more nervous than cagey, she answers, "We could give it a try," much to his delight.
They seal the agreement with another kiss - too obvious, really - which soon leads to more and finally inexorably to another round, more languid than those before. That in turn necessitates a brief nap and then in the small hours of the morning, Blaise escorts the lady back to her tower before returning to the dungeons, and despite the bone deep fatigue there's a decided spring in his step. The new year already seems so much more promising than the last.
"Mr. Zabini," a hoarse and familiar voice little above a whisper greets him in the vicinity of the door to the Slytherin dungeons. "I believe you are familiar with the House Privacy Charm. May I suggest its employ in the future? And perhaps Disillusionment."
Nonplussed by the ghost's sudden appearance, too exhausted and blissed out to be more than fleetingly embarrassed - and hadn't he himself claimed earlier that one is rarely actually alone at Hogwarts? - Blaise merely thanks him for the advice and resists the temptation to ask just how much he'd seen. Some things are best left unknown. And the Baron does so like his manners.
The story is mirrored on Dreamwidth and LiveJournal.
Other works by gingerbred can be found on Dreamwidth and LiveJournal.
ADDITIONAL STAND ALONE ONE SHOTS PLANNED FOR THIS UNIVERSE.
Written with oodles of love for
mywitch. ❤️Originally Published: 2021-04-22 on LJ / DW
Chapter: 4b
Words: 7.5 K
Rating: Mature
Characters: Lavender Brown (8G), Blaise Zabini (8S), the Bloody Baron (Slytherin's House Ghost), Mentioned: Professor Severus Snape (Potions Master, Head of Slytherin, and Deputy Headmaster), Professor Minerva McGonagall (Headmistress), Hermione Granger (Transfiguration Apprentice, Lavender's erstwhile roommate), Harry Potter (8G, the boy who lived to make Draco smile), Draco Malfoy (8S, nearly unrecognisable given all the smiling he's doing), Theo Nott (8S, dating Hestia Carrow), Hestia Carrow (7S, Chaser, victim of a werewolf assault), Edgar Martins (7R, Prefect), the DMLE (Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Ministerial Home of the Aurors), Rita Skeeter (Reporter for the Daily Prophet)
The original version of this chapter exceeded livejournal's maximum post length. It's been split in two parts.
THIS CHAPTER IS A TWO-PARTER.
**SCROLL DOWN AND READ THE OTHER PART FIRST** (4a LJ / DW)
They lie there, limbs entwined, luxuriating in the afterglow of their latest coupling. Her Patronus is curled up beside them as if she were sleeping and Blaise is too damn sated to care at this point. If she wants to, let her. He'd be the last one to want to impose restrictions on her anymore, and they're fast becoming friends.
"Do you have a lot of practice using your Patronus for that?" He asks - curious, gauging, and perhaps fishing, just a little - running a fingertip over Lavender's arm as her blush returns. It extends a fair bit of the way down her chest in a manner that piques his interest. He'll never not think of that becoming rosy glow of her breasts when he sees her blush again.
"I most certainly do not," she replies, aghast, and he laughs again. She's too, too easy to provoke. "I've never used her for anything like that before tonight." He considers it progress if the notion of the Patronus' use with a multitude of partners is the cause of the Gryffindor's embarrassment as opposed to her use at all. He's becoming quite the fan.
Merlin.
He doesn't say so, but he rather likes that he was her first, too. It's nice to have shared that. Instead he remarks, "It didn't require a command."
"No," she agrees. She hadn't known for sure it would work until it did, but had strongly suspected it should. "I think because it was so straightforward." Blaise is rather proud of himself when he reacts not at all to that. There was nothing whatsoever straightforward about it. "It's far less complicated than a message." That at least is correct.
He merely nods and smiles, "And I imagine the intent was strong..." Smiling herself now, she swats at him; he has no room to dodge, but catches her hand in mid air and kisses her fingers. She likes that. She suspects it means she'll try swatting him more often, not that she'd really wanted to be like that, but... Eventually she'll learn to ask for what she wants, but in the meantime, she's far from unresourceful. And she has a sneaking suspicion Blaise will catch on.
When they've had a chance to catch their breath, she sits up and dismisses her Patronus. Blaise waits for her to reach for her cloak again. This time she doesn't. This, too, is progress. He's bright enough not to call attention to it. He hasn't put on a lick of clothing since he first removed it, reclining there, very demonstratively naked; if he's comfortable, she will become more so too. But he's not the only one to have done some thinking.
Of the two of them, Blaise is unquestionably the better student. With Ron, he received more recognition than she did, sure, but to hear him tell it, he'd earned it, and what mattered: despite that, Lav had never really felt inferior to him. And after all the years being compared to Hermione in one way or another, that's something she's a little sensitive to. So that makes Blaise's academic superiority an issue. She can admit that. Except Blaise clearly can't cast a Patronus. And she can. And he's shown some interest in the Charm...
Two approaches seem readily apparent. She could leave things as they are and retain the status quo, giving herself something to feel superior about... Or she could try to apply some of the things the Baron had spoken about, dig a little deeper, be a little more generous, and attempt to teach Zabini how to perform the Spell. Admittedly the Baron had mostly tried to point out that her previous choice in partners at times hadn't been all that giving, and that it was something a witch should feel free to require of a partnership, but given the use of that word, 'partnership', as a modern woman she's taking it to mean something both parties should expect. (Which is presumably for the best, and also why ghosts who passed a thousand years ago probably aren't the very best sources for dating advice.)
And after some of the things Blaise had just done for her... Heavens. Well, she's feeling in a rather generous mood herself.
"What do you say I teach you how to cast a Patronus, and then you can return the favour?" She's really proud of that. It feels almost Slytherin, she is sure. It makes it sound as if she were interested in... well, that - which, fine, maybe, just a little - and she thinks it makes it more likely he won't see it as her trying to do him any favours or anything. That should, to her way of thinking, increase the chances he'd accept, and it still establishes her as someone willing to share her knowledge. In fact, now that she's run through the permutations (admittedly after having extended the offer; there are reasons she's a Moggie), she's incredibly proud of that. She should have been a Snake.
And if he takes her a for a little, erm, bolder than she is, that probably won't hurt either, because he seems utterly devoid of inhibitions... Goodness.
But for all his apparent interest in the Charm, judging by his expression alone, somewhat confusingly Blaise appears less than enthusiastic at her offer. She just doesn't get him. That's only fair, it isn't always easy to put oneself in someone else's shoes. Unfortunately its justification doesn't help her understand him any better either.
And yet it's fairly simple, really.
Frankly he doesn't like to fail.
None of his family can cast a Patronus. None of his friends can either. Nor any of their families, to the best of his knowledge, and that seems like the sort of thing someone would have boasted about if that weren't the case. In fact, aside from the witch, no one in his sphere of influence seems able to conjure a Patronus, corporeal or otherwise.
So he just sort of shrugs, noncommittally.
Hmm.
Lav doesn't quite follow his train of thought, how could she, but can make some educated guesses and isn't afraid to try. It's part of the reason she thought the Charm had attracted his attention, and at least part of the reason she thought offering to teach him could be seen as a kindness. Thanks to the Daily Prophet, everyone knows the Death Eaters couldn't cast a Patronus. That had been a key part of the evidence brought to help exonerate the former Headmaster. Not that Blaise is a Death Eater obviously, that's too, too stupid, he isn't of course. But also thanks to the Prophet's extensive coverage of the proceedings at the end of the war, everyone is aware Blaise - and almost all the other older members of his House - had been subjected to hearings before they were permitted to return to the school, it was heavily implied to assure that no Death Eaters would be attending Hogwarts. Fine, it was probably more than implied. In fact, now that she thinks about it, they'd proclaimed the hearings insufficiently stringent. Repeatedly. There weren't really any concrete claims levied against them, but that's never stopped the Prophet before. That lack of specificity naturally only made it more difficult to defend against, there was nothing to disprove after all. But as was, Rita and her poison quill hadn't stopped making accusations all autumn. Presumably the summer had been even worse, but Lav had had other things on her mind, what with all her appointments at St. Mungo's and recovering from the attack...
It's probable, now that she considers it, that Blaise and the others have had a tough go of it.
"There's no reason it shouldn't work," she tries to reassure him, leaving a bunch of things unsaid in case she were wrong about the reasons for his hesitation, or worse: right.
He may just have emitted a 'hmmm' noise in reply, cheers. She'd be offended that he's calling her (thoroughly untested) teaching skills into question, except she's fairly certain by now that isn't the issue. He'd had absolutely no problem allowing her to order him around in full, erm, flight - yes, she does rather like that - quite evidently willing to do anything she'd asked. In light of that, she considers it unlikely, then, that he takes issue with learning from a witch. Or a Gryffindor, if it came to that. Which means the possible causes for his reluctance here are dwindling...
"You're not a Death Eater," she blurts, because apparently that is her wheelhouse. She's about as subtle as a bludger...
"How kind." The look he gives her is withering and his tone is clipped; he's obviously less than pleased, and she toys with mortification once more as he finally turns away. Fine, but then Blaise can be very direct as well - no one else has ever asked about her scars - so why shouldn't she be entitled to such bluntness as well? Rallying, she resolves to stick to her wands and see the conversation through.
"There's nothing kind about it, Blaise, it's merely a statement of fact." Appropriately, she thinks, she attempts to sound as matter-of-fact as she can, and that earns her a more intrigued look. Which is a relief. She wouldn't have thought it mattered if he were angry with her, but it seems it does. "There is no earthly reason a student of your calibre shouldn't be able to master the Spell like everything else you're capable of doing." She's embracing her inner Slytherin and hoping the compliment will make him more willing to hear her words, all the more so because she's certain of the truth of her claim.
That it sounds more like the statement she'd claimed than a compliment proves helpful, and he finally opens up, at least a bit, "Not a single member of my House can cast one."
"Professor Snape can," she objects instantly and with absolute conviction. Everyone knows the story, and he doesn't argue. In fact, thinking of it, he gains a little hope.
For a moment.
And then he remembers all the comments - and they were many - about how the Professor had been sorted into the wrong House, cheers. Which immediately calls to mind how that in turn had led to a whole, ugly discussion last summer, after the trials and the Professor was cleared, of delaying the Firsties' House Sorting until the second term or even the second year. Because a Slytherin apparently can't cast a Patronus or be a hero. It's as though the whole wizarding world agrees, this just isn't something a Slytherin should be able to do. Ergo there was something flawed in the sorting process.
Lovely.
His face has a grim set about it that practically shouts his defiance just as loudly as he himself remains silent.
"Stop feeling so sorry for yourself," she admonishes, hoping she's right. It was a gamble; if it doesn't ring true, he's less likely to believe anything else she has to say. But his eyes dart to her again and so she continues, "You simply need to let go of your negative mindset and apply yourself."
He snorts, because some things just aren't that simple as the witch should well know. "Does that work for you when the moon is full?" He asks, and she immediately deflates. It's almost as though he'd landed a physical blow, and he regrets it immediately.
"I don't turn or anything," she murmurs quietly, and he feels a complete and utter heel.
"Of course not. Don't be silly." A model of dispassionate objectivity, somehow he finds himself applying her approach right back to her. "You aren't a werewolf." He considers himself fortunate when it works on her as well. "Being attacked by one when the moon isn't full doesn't render a person a werewolf. Everyone knows that." As some of the prejudice she's encountered proves, they most certainly do not, and her expression reflects that. "Well they would do," he hastens to add, "had Lupin been anything like a decent Professor, and actually taught the curriculum."
That makes her smile, albeit a bit shyly, but he immediately feels better about things. He wouldn't have thought it should have mattered if he'd annoyed her, but it seems it does. Hmm. He also hadn't thought he'd be capable of genuinely hurting her - surely he'd have to matter for that; but perhaps the wound is just too raw. Or maybe the fact they'd been intimate, quite, lends him and his words an importance he hadn't anticipated.
A little uncharacteristically wanting to keep her in better spirits - gods, it really had been too long since he's been with someone like this - he decides the best course of action at this juncture would be to take her up on her offer to teach him the Patronus Charm and asks if she'd mind letting him use her wand.
"Sure," she replies, handing it to him, and only then asking, "But why not use your own? That has to simplify casting, especially when you're learning?"
"There's still the Trace on it," he reminds her, only half explaining, and leaving it up to her to guess why that might make a difference. It's not as though the Patronus Charm should get him into trouble, but perhaps he worries it could expose him to ridicule or be used as some sort of logically flawed corroboration that he were a Death Eater after all...
And then suddenly a couple of other, unrelated things fall into place for her.
"You can perform the Divesto wandlessly." He'd done so on his own clothes earlier, this isn't a question anymore. As it wasn't anything remotely like a direction he'd expected the conversation to go, he's caught unawares and simply nods a touch dumbly in reply. "And yet you used your wand to remove my jeans." And just like that, he knows this isn't going to go well. "Why?"
That was clearly an accusation in a single word if ever he's heard one, and he's heard a lot of accusations in the past months.
"Because there's a Trace on my wand," he answers honestly and hopes for the best. "I didn't use it on myself because they certainly don't need to know the details of what, where and when."
She shakes her head, "That's why you didn't use it on yourself. If you didn't want them knowing the details, why did you use it on me?" There are a couple of possibilities, bragging rights first and foremost running through her mind, but she isn't prepared for his answer.
"Because a Divesto only works if you have permission," he answers quietly. She stares at him appalled as he finishes with the now obvious, "It's proof of consent."
Afterwards she isn't proud of it, she knows it was completely rubbish, but she hauls off and slaps him. Fairly hard. It's a decent blow that leaves his cheek stinging. She knows perfectly well that he could have avoided it had he wished, and takes it as a sign of acceptance. Still... What's bad for the gander is bad for the goose? Or something like that. It was wrong. But in the moment she's far too busy being furious to be reasonable.
"After everything we did!" She's close to shrieking - very belatedly, he flicks up a Privacy Charm - and that it makes little sense to argue with things that had come after the Clothes Removing Spell in question... Well that escapes her just now. Retroactively she's deciding he'd come rather close to taking her virtue... Yes, she thinks it could be seen that way, sort of. One thing, or maybe the other... Anyway, there had been a bunch of firsts here, and he'd thought he needed proof of consent. It's like he doesn't trust her.
It's much fairer to say he doesn't trust anybody.
"You could do... all that, with me, but you don't trust me enough not to document my permission."
"'All that', as you put it, came after. And it's worth noting it evolved dynamically and was nothing I'd expected in advance. And the one has nothing to do with the other, anyway." She isn't buying it, not at all, and so he explains further, "After everything they put us through the last eight months, all the accusations, the hearings... It has nothing whatsoever to do with you. Portraits, ghosts, staff, fellow students... You're never really alone, never unobserved in the castle. All it takes is the wrong someone making a report and someone else getting the wrong end of the wand and demanding answers of you, and under pressure everyone folds."
She's aghast.
He's sorry to have to break it to her, but that's the truth of the matter. If the right measures are taken to work a person long enough... That's one thing the summer had proven beyond any doubt, under the right circumstances, eventually the accusations flow. "It's nothing personal," he tries to console her again.
She fails to see how it isn't.
"I didn't have a choice, Lavender."
She's silent for a little while, considering, and he can't think of a good way to remedy things. He's convinced he's in the right. Merlin, the Head had discussed this with them at the start of term, as though any of them would have been stupid enough not to recognise the predicament they all found themselves in... Blaise had done what he should. But perhaps it might have helped to explain his situation and its ramifications to the witch in advance...
But then it's not like she'd discussed her exposure to the lycanthrope either. If he hadn't known the score from other sources...
He wishes things would go back to how they'd been, this is the first night he's truly enjoyed himself in... He can't remember how long.
But then she still hasn't left their little couch or even reached for her clothes. Given the witch, that says something. He still has a chance here.
"The way I see it," he smarms, not nearly as confidently as it sounds as the hesitancy of his touch conveys, "two options present themselves here." He draws his fingertips lightly over her arm, waiting to see if she pulls away. She does not. She doesn't want things between them to end on this note any more than he does. "We can have angry sex..." Her eyes widen instantly at his brazenness. "It has much to recommend it," he assures the clearly incredulous witch. "Or you can forgive me first and then we could have perfectly lovely make up sex. I'd prefer the latter, but I'm open for suggestions." He slides closer to her, half wrapping his naked body around hers. He's absolutely gorgeous, and although she'd like to think she isn't shallow, damn if that doesn't have a way of making her forget why she's angry.
She snorts, trying unsuccessfully to suppress a laugh. "Absolutely not," she shoots his proposition down. But as she can also 'safely claim a certain degree of acquaintance' with his body, too, she thinks he hadn't made the suggestion in earnest. He's nothing like ready for her.
Yet.
She rather likes knowing she has the power to change that.
She leans over and kisses him gently, tentative at first, deepening the kiss when he responds. She prefers things this way.
He's a little breathless when she finally breaks it off, and yes, she vastly prefers him this way. "Then how about you teach me the Patronus Charm?" He manages between breaths. "Or are you just a horrible tease?"
Resolute, and he really should have been smarter about things, she climbs into his lap, straddling him, pressing her chest to his and kisses him until he sees stars. He'd like to attribute it to oxygen deprivation, but has a feeling that doesn't begin to account for the effect she has on him. She begins groping about the couch and he's briefly hopeful, until she retrieves her wand and places it in his hand. "Let's get started then," she proposes as she climbs off once more.
His cock nods its agreement, clearly not having taken her meaning in the least. "You can't be serious." He objects. (And that was most assuredly not the whine it sounded like. Except it very clearly was.)
"I wouldn't want you to think me a tease," she smiles sweetly, her smile morphing into something lascivious, and gods, he's never wanted to fuck someone more. It's the dry spell. Surely. Unless it isn't.
He's grateful she's forgiven him for earlier, and later he might argue he'd been in the right, but with his todger at attention and the most gorgeous witch he's ever seen in all her naked splendour before him... She'd object to the characterisation were he to voice it, and he'd have to explain it isn't an absolute scale, but that would prove too revealing, and having not learnt his lesson he keeps the thoughts to himself. But then at the moment, he'd only be likely to make a hash of it anyway.
"Show me how," he replies simply, and she takes his hand in hers and leads him through the Charm. He has little trouble conjuring happier thoughts with her beside him - would all lessons be so enjoyable - but things remain slightly tinged with doubt, and try as he might he isn't able to produce more than a few telltale blue sparks. If he were any less sure of his sexuality - as if - he might take it for another metaphor. Fortunately he can compartmentalise, and ultimately he hadn't expected to succeed. That those expectations have a direct effect on the results should be clear to both parties, but sometimes that's all too easy to forget.
It's hard going, Lav knows that herself. Honestly, he's made more progress in far less time than she had - and yes, it's just a bit of a relief that he hasn't succeeded outright, she'd had to work hard for it. But what's clear is they need a break.
Which might just mean one thing...
A touch worried that the failure with the Spell might cause him to call his virility into doubt, she retakes her position on his lap, rubbing her breasts against him as she relieves him of her wand. She should wonder where she gets ideas like that, that the masculine ego is so inherently fragile, and what it might say about the company she'd kept, but she hasn't yet learnt that things needn't be that way. It will come with time. As will she, if the wizard has anything to say about it. She smiles into his kiss as she pictures seducing him.
"We might need to regroup," she explains between snogs.
"Yes," comes his less than considered reply. Subjective scales of attractiveness and general fuckability aside, no one has ever kissed him as much as she does. He wouldn't have thought it, but he quite likes all this kissing, failing to register he'd initiated a fair bit of it himself. She has that effect on him.
This is nice.
Merlin, he wants more.
What goes a long way to ensuring he gets it is the fact he doesn't once push for it. Her last words on the matter were 'absolutely not'; they're law until she recants. But heavens is she a test of his willpower.
One of her hands threads its way between them reaching for his eager cock. His lips are about to close over her nearest nipple when he pulls himself together, with an act of what he'd consider inhuman strength he drags his eyes from those enticing breasts to look her in the eyes and ask, "Are you sure?" She nods. "What happened to 'absolutely not'?" He's hoping that doesn't sound too much like he's trying to rub things in...
"A witch's prerogative, I changed my mind." She kisses him ferociously before stopping again. "You have my unequivocal blessing."
He laughs. He likes the way that feels. He's done more of it tonight than he had all term. And he supposes that was her way of saying she forgives him for earlier. He likes the way that feels, too. "I don't think it works that way. It was more about officials checking my wand."
"The only one who should be checking your wand..." she jokes, grinding her hips against him suggestively before reaching for him again. She's not sure where she takes the courage from to suggest such a thing, she has no claim to him, but then maybe that's why she's a Gryffindor. But she's still a touch relieved when he laughs again in reply instead of shooting her down. "Anyway, it would help with a Pensieve examination." Last year it seemed like practically no one had heard of the things. This year everyone knows all about them.
For a Slytherin with access to a Contemplatieve, the device's existence had hardly come as a surprise, but his outrage at the suggestion is instant. "Over my dead body. Shy of an Imperio, there's no way I'm sharing these memories. They're ours." His lips finally latch onto her nipple as his arms tighten a touch possessively about her, leaving him sadly unclear as to the reason for her giggle of delight. Fair enough, he's equally unclear where his possessiveness is coming from. He has a vague sense her wolf draws that out in him, but anything more...
Her hand soon sees to it he's incapable of pursuing such lines of thought, or thinking in general for that matter.
Overrated.
Clearly.
Particularly in light of the options.
"You prefer the term 'cunt'?" He asks, genuinely curious, especially as she'd used it again, and frankly he had her pegged differently.
She certainly hadn't expected the question, and yes she's a little embarrassed she used the term, but she feels safe and happy and so she answers, "I'm not entirely sure to be honest, but the wolf objects to 'pussy'..."
"I could see why," he laughs and soon has her laughing, too.
"You prefer the term 'cunt'," she tells him quite certainly and with a decidedly hungry grin. His cock does have a tendency to give things like that away.
He laughs again, "I do when you use it." She's trying to work though the double entendre and decide what he actually meant, never considering he means it in both senses. He can be efficient that way, and may have a proclivity for hiding behind quips. But he likes the way she's clearly pushing her boundaries and he very much likes that she's doing it with him.
"Why can't they just use Priori Incantato?" She asks, pausing in her caresses to indicate his wand lying atop his nearly forgotten pile of clothing.
"They can and they do," he assures her a touch grimly. "And in this case, that would have been the relevant Spell. The Trace is more of an issue if you forget what you're about and cast something that can be called into question. Then suddenly the Aurors appear..."
"They can Apparate? Into Hogwarts??" Hermione had been her roommate for six and a half years, and the witch's favourite book was 'Hogwarts: a History'. As the topic was covered only too thoroughly therein, Lavender knows perfectly well that you can't Apparate on the school grounds. Everyone in their room does.
"Why yes," he answers, sounding strained. "The DMLE now has an exception in place."
"Oh, I'm sure Professor McGonagall was thrilled." Professor Snape unquestionably more so, he can't help thinking. "So if you do the wrong spell..." Her eyebrow raises in invitation, he can't mean something as obvious as the Cruciatus, and Blaise elaborates.
"Last week Theo was a little incautious with... the witch he's seeing." Blaise sees no point in dragging Hestia into it by name. "He'd performed a Spell that creates magical restraints..." Since she'd survived the werewolf attack, Blaise gathers restraints weren't a half bad idea, even when the moon wasn't full. The poor witch had gotten a particularly vicious case.
"Sort of like the Incarcerous?" Lavender sounds just a bit hopeful as she asks. Blaise would have to say he welcomes that development.
"Much like it," he agrees, "but perhaps a little more... suited for the purpose." That has her very curious indeed, and she considers the question as to which of them knows more spells definitively answered, completely forgetting to count the vast range of Beauty Charms she's mastered, although presumably they're a little less... 'suited' to such purposes, as he put it. Anyway he certainly knows more interesting ones. "And the next thing he knew, the Aurors appeared in the girls' dorms, setting off the klaxons in the process and waking everyone else just in time to see them taking him into custody."
"Oh."
"Oh," he agrees solemnly. "They didn't even let him get dressed first." That thought just makes her blink.
She's had Nott in her courses for seven and a half years now. She may well never look at him the same way again. But that? What a horrifying scenario. She can picture him being frogmarched in the altogether past his Housemates all too clearly.
"Everyone?" Her voice breaks at the very idea. How humiliating.
He knows exactly what she means. "Everyone who stayed over the hols anyway." She blinks again as she considers it. "That's most of us," he tries to make it a little clearer.
"That's rotten." Blaise couldn't agree more. "Surely there was no call for that."
The Slytherin smirks at the memory, "His witch nearly took three Aurors apart at the seams once she was free."
Lavender tries not to chuckle, but doesn't quite succeed. "That seems a poor way to thank them for the rescue." She doesn't sound sympathetic at all. Blaise grins in agreement.
"Oh, they didn't free her. Theo's spell failed relatively quickly. Intent and all that. It transpires arrest has a way of ruining the mood. Who'd have guessed?"
"Poor Theo," Lavender commiserates, and Blaise finds he appreciates that, and the somehow more inclusive 'Theo' instead of 'Nott'. "Did they arrest the witch too? For the assault?"
"Professors Snape and McGonagall were able to make them see reason." In fact, Professor Snape had drawn his wand, and as absolutely everyone these days had an all too clear idea of what the wizard could do without it... Both the Headmistress and her Deputy had Apparated in independently only moments after the Aurors, some warning or another triggered by their arrival, and had immediately taken them to task. That had been a sight to behold, the duo fearsome, incongruously somehow more so because they were in their sleepwear. Professor Snape hadn't even bothered to throw on his dressing gown, he'd arrived only in his pyjama bottoms and simply Protegoed his bare feet and attacked, securing several Aurors rather fiercely against the wall before even one had moved. McGonagall, true to form, had sorted the small rest somewhat more gently, but no less decisively.
That had been rather enjoyable really, and it was nice to know she'd come to their defence. Professor Snape had even threatened to remove the Aurors' uniforms, leaving them just as naked as Theo - and vulnerable, as he was sure to add - but the Headmistress had talked him down, or at least pretended to. 'They were only trying to protect the students, after all.' The Slytherins knew it's nowhere near that simple, it never is and there had been no excuse whatsoever (beyond malice) for the Aurors' treatment of Theo, but they'd soon had his roommate sorted and apparently the threat alone of such an assault from their Head of House had been enough to put the fear of the gods into the tossers.
Good.
Blaise has come to hate the entire Department of Magical Law Enforcement with a passion in the past months.
"Anyway, the bottom line is it's a good idea to always be able to prove what's happened, that you're on the right side of the law, and of course to always do certain spells without your wand. Or not at all." He shrugs.
Lav puts a hand on his arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze and then follows up with a soft kiss.
"I'm sorry," she tells him. For their misunderstanding before, for slapping him, for this. She doesn't need to say it, she's fairly easy to read, and even more appealingly: sincere.
Blaise kisses the top of her head in thanks. He appreciates the small token of support more than he'd have expected. Thinking about it, he realises as a House they've felt pretty isolated this past term. It really has been a wretched case of 'us' versus all of 'them'. He hadn't registered quite how lonely it was until now.
Reluctantly, more so now that he's formulated those thoughts, he concludes that he owes her the same generosity she's shown him. He wizards up. "We can pretend this never happened you know," he offers, rather generously he thinks, the complete idiot, as he lies there stroking her side. This comes out of the blue as far as she's concerned, and she's never been so insulted in her life. And that includes the whole Ron fiasco, thank you kindly.
She's clearly upset, but that might be advantageous in as much as he'd have to be an utter lackwit to miss it at this point.
"Lavender, stop. It's entirely up to you. I'm serious. I just meant that it isn't advantageous to be associated with a Slytherin these days. Not like this. We don't have to let this change anything between us."
"Change things from as we are now, or as we were before???" She bristles, pulling away to see him more clearly from a distance. She wants to gauge his reaction, because she really doesn't understand where he's coming from.
"I had no expectations..." he tries to explain, but all she hears is that she shouldn't have any either. She's still withdrawing, so he takes a deep breath and tries to explain it to her, at least roughly. What it means to be a Slytherin in the castle this year. What it means to have been associated with the 'wrong' people last year. The very serious repercussions they face, the prejudice. That these were things that rubbed off on others, guilt by association, and that she could easily avoid them by simply pretending none of this had happened. It was that simple. That was all he'd meant.
A case can certainly be made for karma, and Merlin knows some savour the irony that his House in turn now suffers most acutely from others' prejudices, but that doesn't change the facts. It isn't pleasant, and she needn't be tarred with the same brush should she so choose.
He's underestimated how stubborn the witch is, and how little she likes letting others dictate her choices these days. There's been enough of that since the werewolf's attack. "But Professor Snape and Hermione, Draco and Harry..." she objects offering what she considers incontrovertible proof that he's talking out of his arse.
"Except I'm no Professor Snape. Or Draco either, for that matter." While the suggestion that two of the golden trio deemed them 'worthy' made the House as a whole seem more acceptable in public, both wizards had taken nontrivial amounts of typically anonymous flak for their relationships, and it was still early days. Blaise expects it will get much worse for them in the weeks to come, especially after all the students return, and he doubts it will be much easier for Granger or Potter.
Lavender won't contest the first point - Professor Snape? the transcripts of the trials make that a fool's errand - but the second doesn't sit well with her at all. "You're every bit as good as Draco," she insists, but then she's never seen the blond in a serious duel. He'd lived with the madman and his entourage in the family home for so long... And of course she doesn't want to hear the implied 'she's no Hermione.' Except she knows she isn't.
She's pouting and more than a bit mulish, and Blaise is more eager than he'd have thought to get back on better footing. "Well I'm every bit as good as Draco at some things, anyway. Maybe better." He kisses her and then waggles a brow suggestively, and it's enough to make her giggle again, which comes as a relief. By now he sort of has her number, and suggests she resume trying to teach him the Patronus Charm. It seems safer ground.
Still conflicted, she nevertheless complies. It's a point of pride now, and she redoubles her efforts. (They are in no way inferior to Draco or Hermione, and she did not, however briefly, think the words 'power couple' in reference to Blaise and herself; fine, Ron may have rubbed off a little.) If willpower alone were enough to make it so, that surely would have done the trick and they'd have succeeded. Unfortunately it isn't and Blaise is having even more problems than he was before.
"Are you just tired?" She asks as she watches him take her wand through the motions unsuccessfully once yet again. "Using someone else's wand takes more out of you." She really should ask why she's so concerned about the potential fragility of his ego without any proof of such a thing.
He runs his hand through his hair - given its extremely short length, that's really more like running it across his scalp. He's growing frustrated. He can't seem to find an appropriate memory. They're just all tainted. No longer basking in the post-sex hormone-fuelled rush, he's trying to select something more substantial, something that should work in contrast to his failures before. It would have been when the Slytherin team had won an especially close match, coming through in the end with some truly impressive plays, except he can't recall that without thinking of Vince, and then the whole last year comes crashing back, and everything since...
Lavender feels bad for him. This had been her idea after all, and at the moment at least, it seems like it might be making things worse. If anything, it was thinking about how the forces of the DMLE had come bursting into their House, and humiliated and arrested one of his friends simply because he'd had a little non-conventional sex. If any of them were likely to face such a result, Theo was practically the least likely to do so. Or maybe Daphne, but still. Somehow that had just made it worse.
Lav thinks furiously, reviewing everything she knows about the Charm, a little desperate to come up with some way to help him with it. A touch timidly she places her hand on his arm once more and stops him from attempting the cast yet again. She's uncertain, she really doesn't want to make any more of this than it was, but she summons some courage to suggest he'd looked happy before, maybe that was the approach to take? Using those thoughts? Those memories?
"There's a difference between satisfied and happy," he explains, which seems kind of insulting. She removes her hand, subconsciously withdrawing slightly, but he's more attuned to her now and he pulls her right back, tucking her in at his side with one arm. He likes her there.
"Please don't get me wrong, Lavender. After last year..." He sighs, takes a breath, and continues, "I haven't been truly happy, unreservedly happy in a very long time." That may have been the most honest thing he's said in years, including his testimony under Veritaserum. And then he tops it, "But for what it's worth, this is probably the closest I've come."
She thinks about it for a minute, tries to fight back a smile in the face of his admission - because Merlin knows, that was nothing to smile about - and then somewhat quietly suggests, "Then maybe you should keep coming?" It's not the callow come on he first takes it for. She doesn't reach for him. It isn't even followed by a kiss, and those had certainly been plentiful and ready enough, so he's paying attention now.
"How do you mean?" He asks a little cautiously, not wanting to risk another misunderstanding.
She nibbles her lip and blushes, taking a finger and somewhat absently tracing the Patronus Charm repeatedly on his forearm. "There are still a few days left around the full moon." True enough, but he waits for her to make her point before leaping to conclusions. "We could still meet. No none has to know," she hastens to reassure him, endeavouring to accept his earlier suggestion, at least as she'd taken it. "We can do this secretly if that's what you think is best." Goodness knows, she'd done it all last term; she's practised. She wasn't exactly eager to go there again, not by any means, but it's hardly a stretch at this point, and this had been... very nice. She knows from experience her wolf will become even more dominant in the next few days, this was a far better way to try to assuage its needs, and if that's what it takes to see him again... Well.
"The rest of the school won't be back until Sunday night anyway," she keeps trying to convince him. "So it's not like we'd even have to try very hard to keep it quiet."
He smirks. "The way you yelled earlier, I'm not so sure about the 'keeping it quiet' part..." he teases.
She swats at him once more, and as he had before, he catches the hand and kisses it again. Yes, that's definitely going to become a thing. She grins. "Anyway you're one to talk," she chides playfully. "You were pretty loud yourself."
"Gods yes," he sighs. "I do like a witch who can make me scream." He lies there grinning a bit stupidly for a while. He'd worry it isn't the best look, but the witch is fairly obviously enamoured of the effect she has on him. If anything, he thinks it might just make him more appealing in her eyes. He has no qualms letting that work to his advantage.
Feeling a little bold himself, he seeks her gaze, "You know, it doesn't have to stop with the waning moon. Not if you don't want it to?" He offers, rather more hopefully than he'd have ever thought possible just a few hours ago. A lot can change in fairly litte time.
Lav now has a very different problem, "I'm... I'm not usually like this." She worries her lip nervously, concerned she wouldn't be enough. Too prosaic, too boring, too... vanilla. "With the full moon... Things are different. I'm different."
"Then I'd be happy to get to know the other you, if you let me," he kisses her fingers rather gallantly as if in emphasis. He's a fast learner.
"The real me?" She feels the need to clarify, silently cursing the pedantry nevertheless.
Blaise shakes his head, "The other you. Both are 'real', Lavender. And with time comes trust, then people are usually different with one another anyway and things like that become less of an issue."
She has another brief moment of panic wondering how much experience that 'usually' implies and feeling as if she's in way over her head, but his gaze doesn't waver, and she finds herself really wanting to see if she could be enough to satisfy him without the stupid moon at work. She's never felt as desirable in her life as she's felt tonight, and after the attack last May... She never would have thought it possible. To be so wanted? Despite everything that monster had done to her? No, she wants more of this. Much more. And if they need to keep it to themselves? So be it.
Still uncertain she'll be able to keep his interest without the moon and her inner wolf in play, more nervous than cagey, she answers, "We could give it a try," much to his delight.
They seal the agreement with another kiss - too obvious, really - which soon leads to more and finally inexorably to another round, more languid than those before. That in turn necessitates a brief nap and then in the small hours of the morning, Blaise escorts the lady back to her tower before returning to the dungeons, and despite the bone deep fatigue there's a decided spring in his step. The new year already seems so much more promising than the last.
"Mr. Zabini," a hoarse and familiar voice little above a whisper greets him in the vicinity of the door to the Slytherin dungeons. "I believe you are familiar with the House Privacy Charm. May I suggest its employ in the future? And perhaps Disillusionment."
Nonplussed by the ghost's sudden appearance, too exhausted and blissed out to be more than fleetingly embarrassed - and hadn't he himself claimed earlier that one is rarely actually alone at Hogwarts? - Blaise merely thanks him for the advice and resists the temptation to ask just how much he'd seen. Some things are best left unknown. And the Baron does so like his manners.
The story is mirrored on Dreamwidth and LiveJournal.
Other works by gingerbred can be found on Dreamwidth and LiveJournal.
ADDITIONAL STAND ALONE ONE SHOTS PLANNED FOR THIS UNIVERSE.
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Thank you ginger! I am so touched that you've gifted me these stories, I appreciate it so much. I know that being creative can be an awful lot of work at times, so thank you again. Thank you thank you! xxxxx
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I know how you like Lavender, so I gave her a lot of thought, and this was what happened. I needed someone to make her happier, and Blaise was good enough to volunteer. (I mean, Hermione tried, but she just kept making things worse. lol) Very glad (and relieved) if you've enjoyed them. ❤️ (I mean, you know me, it's a hug in 20k words or more... lol)