Fall From Grace

Fall from Grace

Chapter 3

Seamus lingered at the table for a few minutes after Daphne, his pretty, soulful dreamer, left the library. As he contemplated the possibility of pursuing the comely girl, he saw someone else suddenly disappear behind a cart of books resting close by. A smile playing on his lips, the Gryffindor stood and walked over to the cart and leaned against a bookshelf. "Ello," he purred softly.

The cart shifted slightly and Blaise Zabini stood up on the other side, thumbing through a book while seeming to ignore the other boy. He muttered something that sounded vaguely like "hello."

Seamus frowned, annoyed that the Slytherin still seemed unwilling to talk to him in public. Is he ashamed of me, he wondered. He decided they needed to talk about this later. And perhaps have a make-out session after that, Seamus added in his mind. "Meet me someplace?" he asked swiftly.

Eyes flashing briefly in surprise, Blaise glanced around him surreptitiously before eying Seamus balefully. "Fine," he answered blandly in almost a whisper. "After breakfast tomorrow, empty Arithmancy classroom."

Seamus nodded, satisfied that he would be seeing Blaise the following morning. The Irish Gryffindor turned around without saying goodbye and left the library, a smirk playing on his handsome face.

Blaise pretended to ignore the other boy's smug expression, but there was a mischievous gleam in the Slytherin's eyes.

**********

Daphne left the library and headed down toward the dungeons for her appointment with Professor Snape. She was still rather confounded by the idea of the annoying Irish Gryffindor who made her want to giggle and gag at the same time. She wanted to punch that smile off his face but at the same time she wanted to keep talking to him. He's too smooth for his own good. Stupid idiotic Gryffindor! She was in such deep thought that she almost ran right into one of the many doors in the dungeon hall.

"Bollocks!" Daphne exclaimed loudly to herself. She stalked the rest of the way down the corridor until she reached a non-descript door about midway through. Knocking briskly she stood and waited, tapping her foot impatiently. At Professor Snape's reply, she pushed the door open and entered the Potion Master's office where he was grading papers. From the extremely sour expression on his face and the harsh red marks she could see covering the parchments Daphne surmised that Snape was not pleased with what he was reading.

"First years?" Daphne queried with a smirk, indicating the stack of papers beside him.

"Fourth years," Snape replied with a scowl. "The first years might actually do better than this." He motioned toward the only other chair in the room, pushing aside the paper he was grading with a pained long-suffering expression on his face.

"You wanted to give me a sleep draft?" Daphne reminded him, hoping he wouldn't try to counsel her tonight. She sat down stiffly in the chair, crossing her arms in front of her and staring at the Professor with hooded eyes.

Snape gazed at Daphne with a raised eyebrow, not needing Legilimency to ascertain the less than amiable mood of his student. "Is someone bothering you, Miss Greengrass?" he drawled.

Daphne resisted the urge to expel a loud inelegant snort at his question. You have no idea, she thought to herself, although she did notice his use of someone rather than something. "No," she replied out loud. "I just don't feel well." She shrugged. "It's probably from lack of sleep."

Snape gazed at her for a few moments, clearly skeptical about her professed reason; then he stood without another word and walked to a locked cabinet that Daphne was quite sure was not there a minute ago. She watched Snape silently cast an unlocking spell before reaching in and drawing out a vial with some blood red liquid in it.

Returning to his seat behind the desk, Snape offered the vial to Daphne. "You need only four drops for this to take full effect," he instructed. "You'll sleep quite deeply."

Daphne nodded numbly, wanting nothing more than to drag herself to her dorm and let the draft do its work. She reached out to take the vial and was stunned when Snape reached out and clasped her wrist with his free hand.

"Four drops," the Potion Master repeated firmly, gazing at her closely. "Only four drops in a night. No more than that."

Unnerved by the intensity of Snape's insistence, Daphne nodded quickly. "I would never abuse something like this, sir," she said evenly. "You've warned me before about the potential side effects of an overdose."

Snape regarded Daphne with a long calculating look, but said nothing as he released her wrist and handed her the vial.

About to stand, Daphne paused and sat back down. "Professor?" she said hesitantly.

"Yes, Miss Greengrass," Snape replied, already pulling the stack of abysmal potions essays toward him.

"This draft," Daphne asked uneasily, "causes dreamless sleep, right?"

"Yes," Snape answered in a deceptively bland manner. "It does." He gazed up at Daphne with dark discerning eyes. "Why do you ask?" he inquired calmly.

"No reason, Professor," Daphne said shrugging, appearing as cool and collected as she could. "I just wondered if that was one of the effects of this particular draft." She smirked in a manner she knew would irritate the man. "Am I not allowed to wonder?"

"Do not get cheeky with me, Miss Greengrass," the Potions Professor snapped. "You are fortunate I have other concerns to attend to at the moment. If I had the time and the patience, I would be happy to play this battle of wills and words with you." He glared at Daphne, almost daring her to stomp out of his office without his permission. When she merely sat gazing back at him, Snape waved his hand briskly. "Go," he said sharply. "I expect you to look less bedraggled and hollow tomorrow."

"Of course, sir," Daphne replied demurely as she stood up to leave. She knew better than to openly challenge the Slytherin Head of House. "Thank you, sir." Daphne left without another word.

**********

Breakfast in the Great Hall was its usual noisy affair with some students hurriedly shoving food into their mouth in an attempt to buy some extra time to finish last minute homework while other students ate at a more leisurely pace, chatting and sharing letters and news flown in by the owls earlier that morning.

"I'm not too hungry," Blaise said airily from his seat at the Slytherin table, already standing to leave. "I think I'll go and get started on that essay McGonagall assigned us." He hoped everyone was too preoccupied to give his exit much thought.

To Blaise's dismay, Draco Malfoy raised his grey-eyed gaze up from the Daily Prophet he was reading to examine the other boy's face. "Are you sick or something?" he queried mildly. Seeming to just realize that Pansy Parkinson was perched on his lap, stroking his blonde hair and gazing adoringly at him, Draco suddenly shoved her off onto the chair beside him while she squeaked and yelped indignantly. Ignoring Pansy's mutinous glare, Draco leaned forward toward Blaise. "Maybe you're actually running off to a little romantic rendezvous?" he whispered.

Blaise gazed evenly back at his housemate, schooling his face into a perfectly bland expression. "No," he said coolly. "It's nothing like that. I'm really just not hungry."

Draco smirked. "Of course you're not," he whispered cynically.

"Has anyone seen Daphne?" Blaise asked, suddenly realizing that his best friend had never appeared for breakfast. He also hoped that the query would distract the others from speculating about his own activities.

"No," Pansy drawled in a bored voice. "Where is your wayward girlfriend, Blaise?" Several of her friends giggled since they all knew Blaise was gay.

Blaise glared at the smirking pug-nosed girl, turning his gaze to Draco in a silent request for intervention.

"Pansy," Draco ordered blandly without even looking at the girl beside him, "shut the fuck up." Pouting and looking very much like she wanted to kick Draco, Pansy subsided nevertheless.

Smirking at Draco's swift handling of the petulant girl, Blaise gathered up his books. "I'm going to look for Daphne then," he announced before swinging away from the table toward the huge double doors leading out to the corridor.

As he passed the Gryffindor table, he spotted Seamus sitting with his housemates, laughing at something Dean Thomas was saying. Obviously he's in no hurry, Blaise thought. As he pushed through the double doors, he wondered idly what excuse Seamus would concoct to explain an early escape from his Gryffindor friends.

Blaise made his way to the old unused Arithmancy classroom which was the agreed upon meeting place for them. Although the room was supposed to be empty, he slowly opened the door and peered in, his wand drawn since one could never be too careful. It was pitch dark inside as the window shades were drawn, effectively blotting out any light.

Quietly closing and locking the door behind him, Blaise stood a moment, allowing his eyes to get used to the darkness before moving forward to the center of the room. "Damn it, Finnigan," he muttered impatiently, "get your arse down here."

A soft snicker sounded behind Blaise, causing him to stumble as he tried to whirl around, wand in hand. Slightly off balance from the shock, Blaise reached out and instinctively grabbed the intruder in an attempt to keep from falling over. He felt firm hands take hold of his waist, effectively keeping him upright.

Seamus stood in the darkness, grinning and chortling at the flailing Slytherin. "Surprise," he murmured.

"Shit, Finnigan," Blaise snapped angrily. "You scared me half to death!" As his own hands clutched at Seamus's shoulders, Blaise realized that the other boy was not wearing his shirt. "How the hell did you get here so bloody fast?" he demanded, pulling away in an attempt to stop the eager flickering in his loins.

"Come here, lovely," Seamus murmured softly. "I won't bite...unless you ask me to."

Blaise shivered at the invitation but stood his ground, glaring at the other boy even though he knew it was pointless in the dark. "I can't see," he said petulantly. "Don't you have a candle or something?"

Seamus chuckled and drew out his wand, using it to light a candle on a nearby table. "There," he said with a grin. "Happy?"

"Yes," Blaise replied softly, "much better, thank you." He tried not to notice how the flickering candlelight cast intriguing ripples and shadows on Seamus's bare torso.

Seamus moved forward and enveloped Blaise in a hug. "I live to serve you," he said teasingly.

"Oh, shut it, Finnigan," Blaise murmured, sounding far less than angry as he leaned into the embrace.

Seamus's grin widened as he held Blaise tightly against him, enjoying the sense of peace that washed over him at the moment. He rubbed Blaise's back soothingly before pulling away slightly and leaning down, slowly and gently pressing his lips against his partner's. The sweet contact was soft and chaste but made Seamus shudder with delight nonetheless. He smiled against the other boy's lips and was delighted when Blaise eagerly returned the kiss.

"I don't like you being taller than me," Blaise complained. "It means I have to stand on my toes to kiss you."

Seamus chuckled indulgently. "I like you being shorter than me," he replied. "You're cuter that way. Besides," he added with a wink, "I'm the dominant one, after all." He had worked his fingers under Blaise's school shirt and was gently caressing the skin right above his trousers, pushing his partner until he was backed up against a wall.

"Oh please," Blaise scoffed sardonically. "How would you know you're the dominant one?" He swallowed and licked his lips, trying not to push against the hand that was playing havoc with his senses.

"Well," Seamus said with a pout, "We'd know for sure if you'd only let me shag you properly."

"Shag?" Blaise echoed, tensing suddenly. "I've never shagged anyone before let alone having someone shag me," he said with a frown. "I've told you before that I'd rather wait."

Seamus sighed in mock resignation. "I guess hand and blow jobs will have to do," he murmured, "for now." He smirked and began undoing the buttons of Blaise's shirt, his hands traveling up and down the soft skin on his chest and then wrapping around the slim waist to pull the Slytherin close to him. After several long moments of kissing and touching, Seamus pushed his pelvis against Blaise's and began rubbing.

"Shit," Blaise gasped. "That feels good."

"Mmmhmmm," Seamus hummed, his nimble fingers working to undo the fastenings of Blaise's trousers. As he slowly pulled down the zipper, Blaise's eyes lit up with need and he was unable to stifle a moan. Seamus smiled, always enjoying the moment when his self-possessed Slytherin surrendered to lust and pleasure.

Blaise whimpered in anticipation as he felt Seamus kneel in front of him and pull his trousers down to his ankles. He shivered and whined when Seamus began kissing and licking Blaise's torso, slowly working his way down to the waistband of his boxers, his swollen erection forming a small tent in the material. "Please," he gasped, already desperate for release.

Pulling down the soft silky material of Blaise's boxers, Seamus first blew on the already weeping arousal causing Blaise to buck and groan. Smiling up at the writhing Slytherin, Seamus took the other boy into his mouth and continued his oral assault.

Moaning ecstatically, Blaise hoped no one would pass the room in the corridor since he was unable to stop his loud responses to the pleasure the Gryffindor was bringing him. "Seamus," he gasped, "faster. Please!" He glanced down, the sight of his lover kneeling in front of him between his legs exciting him even further. He reached up and began stroking and pinching his own nipples in time to Seamus's movement.

Taking hold of Blaise's hips to keep him from thrusting too sharply into his mouth, Seamus continued pleasuring the other boy, knowing that Blaise was close to completion. Seamus shivered himself and relished the thrill of being the one to drive the Slytherin over the edge. He was sure he would never tire of it.

Blaise's hands were tangled in his lover's hair. "Faster," he hissed, desperate to reach completion. Almost, he thought feverishly, his whole world focused on the mouth giving him so much pleasure. Suddenly, he stiffened and cried out as he rode the crest of his orgasm, shuddering and bucking as he felt Seamus suck and swallow. He collapsed into Seamus's arms, barely able to stay upright.

Letting Blaise's weight pull him down the rest of the way, Seamus settled on top of his school robe, sighing ecstatically as he did so.

As if in unison, Blaise sighed as well. "That," he murmured, "was really good." He began purring when he felt Seamus stroking his hair. "Almost as exciting as the train ride," Blaise added.

Seamus chuckled, leaning over to kiss the other boy on the cheek. "Blaise?" he murmured.

"Hmmm?"

"Is there an us now?" Seamus asked cautiously.

"What?" Blaise asked, stiffening slightly..

Continuing to stroke Blaise's hair in an attempt to sooth him, Seamus repeated his question. "Is there an us now?"

An uncomfortable silence hung between the two as Blaise shifted awkwardly. Finally he sighed. "I don't know," he replied frankly.

"What do you mean you don't know," Seamus demanded, frowning at the other boy.

Blaise shrugged, unsure of how to respond to this unexpected development. "I just don't know, okay?" he said, avoiding Seamus's eye.

"Blaise," Seamus said angrily. "Look at me." When the other boy reluctantly dragged his gaze up to meet his, Seamus stared at him intently. "Why don't you know? I know I want there to be an us. I thought you felt it too."

Chewing his lip nervously, Blaise tried to hold Seamus's gaze. "I don't know," he repeated, a bit worried about the anger in Seamus's voice. "This is still new," he stammered. "Our housemates...I don't know if I'm ready for all that."

Standing abruptly from where he had been seated so cosily with Blaise just a few moments before, Seamus turned and glared at the other boy. "So," he said coldly, "I'm not good enough for you or your housemates?"

"No!" Blaise said, feeling crushed by the hurt and confusion he could see in Seamus's expression. "That's not it at all! I'm just not sure if I'm ready to be that open about being with you."

Seamus snorted, picking up his clothes and quickly dressing without looking at Blaise. "That still sounds like you think I'm not good enough for you," he muttered, picking up his school bag and heading toward the door. Before leaving, he paused, turning to look one last time at Blaise. "See you around, I guess," he said bitterly. He pulled open the door and hurriedly left the room.

Blaise watched him leave, stunned at the pain and loneliness he already felt at Seamus's absence. Still seated on the floor where Seamus had left him, Blaise closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall. "Fuck," he whispered, allowing himself the rare luxury of crying in peace.