My Fellow Slug

~ My Fellow Slug ~

The carriage bumped along the road, seeming to lack all of its usual grace and speed. Even the heavily cushioned seats could do nothing to ease the ride and to his immense irritation Blaise kept finding himself being tipped around, his shoulder banging against that of the slighter boy who was seated next to him. Digging his heals into the floor of the carriage he stretched out his long legs, pushing himself back into the seat in the hope that it would somehow nullify the effect of the bumpy road. It only helped a little.

If he was honest with himself the tall Slytherin would have admitted that his current levels of irritation had less to do with the road than it did with the company he was keeping. However, he reminded himself, since the alternative had been sharing a carriage with Crabbe and Goyle he supposed he should be thankful. He would never, ever, forget the coach ride up to the castle in their second year when Crabbe had thrown up after forcing too many chocolate frogs down his throat - ever since he had tried to avoid having to travel to his fellow Slytherin whenever he possibly could.

Blaise frowned, turning his face away from the stark adoration on Pansy's features as she gazed at Malfoy and redirecting it out of the window towards the passing countryside. The way she mooned over him was quite frankly disgusting. What was even worse however was the way in which she was currently gushing about how clever and brave the blonde Slytherin prince was whenever he paused for breath. He was surprised that even Draco could stand it and silently he admired the boy for not snapping and telling her to shut up already. Then again Draco tended to like it when people were being sycophantic so he was probably having the time of his life.

Personally Blaise didn't think using petrificus totalus on someone who was as far up Dumbledore's arse as Potter and then kicking him in the head was particularly brave or clever. If anything it was actually rather stupid, particularly since when Potter blabbed all it would take to prove Malfoy's guilt was one little spell on his wand.

It was also typically Malfoy - impulsive and vengeful.

And this is our great future leader, Blaise thought wearily as the other boy launched into yet another animated description of his confrontation with Potter. He's lucky he hasn't found himself expelled from school already. Obviously Potter hasn't managed to reach Dumbledore yet.

Quickly Blaise stemmed the deep sigh of exasperation that had been threatening and firmly turned his thoughts away from the repercussions that were bound to follow his friend's actions. Still it was all he could do not to lean forwards and rest his head against the cool carriage window. Somehow he doubted that doing so would ease the growing ache behind his eyes so there was no point in giving in to the urge. In concession he let his eyes fall shut, deciding his current headache was almost certainly Pansy's fault with her brittle laugh and inane little comments. Instantly he regretted his decision as an image flew unbidden into his mind, bringing forth a mixture of forlorn irritation and anger.

This too was Pansy's fault he decided swiftly.

If she hadn't mentioned the Weasley girl again, hadn't reminded him of her various charms then there was no way that her face would be springing so readily to mind. It certainly wouldn't be lingering like it was. It wouldn't be making him think the way he was - reminding him continually of how she had looked at Slughorn's little get-together.

His frown deepened, furrowing his brow deeply and Blaise forced his features to relax before one of the other students in the carriage noticed. He didn't want Draco turning his overly observant gaze on him - not at the moment, not when he was feeling so distracted. Malfoy would take any chance he could to try and get one up on him even if they were friends. It wasn't something he blamed the prefect for; it was as typically Draco as his earlier impulsiveness and desire for revenge. Besides, Blaise knew if their roles had been revered then he would have done just the same. It was simply the Slytherin way.

Carefully Blaise cast a brief glance towards the other occupants nothing thankfully that Pansy was still engrossed with Draco and he was busy quizzing Theo, the fourth and final student present on something the quiet, aloof boy had said. As ever Theo was stoically answering everything Malfoy put to him with quick, short answers that reminded Blaise that he was only sitting with him out of necessity.

Trying to distract himself further Blaise turned his attention back to Pansy and Draco. The startlingly handsome boy was once again leaning against his unofficial girlfriend, letting her fondle his hair. He had carefully fixed a carefree expression on his face that told Blaise that he was actually far from relaxed. It almost made him smile to think that Draco was becoming so increasingly irritated with the quality of the answers he was getting. Blaise had always maintained the sneaking suspicion that Theo would purposely try and enrage his fellow Slytherin in some sort of game that the slender young boy refused to share with the rest of them. He was one of the few people Blaise knew who would be able to get away with such a pastime.

He allowed himself a quick secretive smirk at the way in which the birdlike girl was preening the boy sprawled against her. For whatever reason Pansy seemed to have convinced herself that as long as she had one hand on Malfoy at all times then she was maintaining a degree of control over him. This, of course, was a ridiculous idea and the only person who didn't seem to realise that was Pansy herself. She certainly wasn't aware of the way in which the other Slytherin students would snigger over her possessiveness when it was clear that Draco really didn't give a damn about her.

Pansy was right to be worried about Draco's fidelity, Blaise decided. He'd seen the way that the pug-nosed girl had cast sly glances towards her boyfriend when she had been quizzing him on the Weasley girl - Pansy knew as well as he did that if the redhead's name wasn't Weasley then Draco would certainly have looked twice in her direction. It wouldn't have even mattered that the Gryffindor wasn't interested in him in the least.

Gritting his teeth, stuck in another burst of exasperation, Blaise wondered exactly when he was going to manage to stop thinking about the redhead. It was starting to get beyond a joke; he was normally capable of exhibiting much more self control. Why he was incapable of doing so right at that moment was baffling. She was pretty enough he supposed and had developed a rather lovely ripe little body but it wasn't as if there were others at school who couldn't claim the same.

Other girls in possession of more amiable personalities and fewer left-wing muggle-loving ideas.

Others who were less accomplished at hexes, he thought with a small shudder as he remembered the state Malfoy had got himself into the previous year. From what he had heard his fellow Slytherin had not stood a chance during that particular confrontation and the way he had looked afterwards had certainly supported the rumour. He hated to think what would happen to any boy who pushed their look too far with the fiery redhead.

And yet, Blaise realised, Ginny Weasley still wouldn't leave his thoughts alone, forcing him in the end to try to consol himself with the fact that at least he was not preoccupied with some silly little girl like Lavender Brown or a regular lunatic like Luna Lovegood. In contrast, by all accounts the Weasley girl was turning into a rather accomplished young witch - something that was proved by Slughorn deciding to take an interest in her. A pureblood accomplished young witch at that, he though silently and then added while peering wearily at Pansy, Something which is becoming rather a rarity.

The witch in question giggled at something Malfoy said, as if confirming Blaise's opinion for him. It was hard to fight back another shudder. Pansy Parkinson was almost enough evidence all by herself for why the old blood wizard families should occasionally think about bringing in a bit of new blood to spice things up. He had secretly decided some time ago that in her there was doubtlessly a case where inbreeding had gone just a little too far.

The same, he knew, could not be said of the Weasleys. It was something that, despite feeling a distinct level of disapproval towards blood lines becoming too intertwined Blaise found it hard to approve of. Their redeeming feature, he concluded, was their connections to the Blacks. With the exception of one particular infamous member there was an excellent example of a pureblood family.

His eyes flickered to Draco. You would never have guessed that he was related to any of that brood, he thought. The Malfoys and the Weasleys were virtual opposites, not just in views, politics and status but in looks as well. There was the odd line that was similar but other than that there was nothing he had been able to pick out.

Not that either of them was unappealing. Blaise was certain that if he had been that way inclined then he would have been as besotted with Draco as the rest of the multitudes seemed to be. Similarly, as Pansy had put it, there were plenty of people at school who could be caught ogling the youngest Weasley child even if the girl herself was seemingly unaware of the fact. She might come from a decidedly poor family but there was something aristocratic about the way she carried herself; quietly confident, not feeling the need to make her presence know like some other girls he could think of.

The apparent softness of her hair, the vibrant colour of it, and the steady warmth of her brown eyes were all very appealing. Even the dusting of freckles that were so dreadful on her brother seemed, to Blaise's eyes, quite charming on his sister. Many girls would feel the need to try and magic them away but Ginny Weasley was confident enough in herself to realise that it wasn't necessary. It was refreshing.

Perhaps it wasn't quite so terrible that she kept popping up in his mind, he amended. There was no harm in simply thinking about the girl after all.

Indeed, Blaise decided, in some respects Ginny Weasley was just the sort of girl he should be thinking about. In many ways she was far ahead of the rest of the field - even if it was she was a mudblood-loving Gryffindor.

FIN