The Story of Blaise Zabini

Chapter 13

Midnight Rendezvous

So it's a few weeks before the summer holidays, and Umbridge is still the most hated teacher in school. Or at least, a lot of people hate her; mostly people who believe Potter's version of Diggory's death. Of course, Malfoy and the assholes he calls his friends think Umbridge is the best thing to happen to the school. It pains me to say this - yeah right - but I have to agree with Potter. I think Lydia and I are the only two Slytherins who believe our resident hero. Not that I care; the Slytherins can go screw themselves before I take their advice.

Something strange happened early in the year; ten of You-Know-Who's Death Eaters escaped from Azkaban prison. It caused quite a stir, and most people seemed to think that they were going to burst through the doors and start cursing everyone that got in their way. Idiots. Hogwarts is one of the safest places in the world.

Anyway, I am sick to death of Pansy. For some reason I think she knows that something happened between me and Malfoy, because she's being such a show-off that even Millicent Bulstrode keeps ditching her - go Millicent. And yet Malfoy seems to be lapping it up, and whenever I accidentally witness their latest tryst, he gives me this smug little smirk as if to say, "Too bad, you're missing out on this." (Incidentally, his smirk is horribly cute and I wish he wouldn't use it; it makes me hopelessly flustered and embarrassed).

After being bored to tears by a fourth year who thinks everyone wants to hear about his amazing slug collection, I found that sleep, although welcome, was not going to happen. Now, wandering the corridors never used to be such a hobby of mine, but now, well I find that I'm doing it even more. It's actually the best time to think, because everything seems much clearer in the middle of the night.

On this particular night, I decided that a trip to the seventh floor was a good idea. I know that Trelawney's room is in the North Tower, which is at the very top of the seventh floor, but as for what else is up there, I have no idea. So I began the long trek to the very top floor of Hogwarts, relishing the near silence, and hoping I wouldn't meet Filch on the way there and back.

I stood at the top of the final staircase, listening hard for any sound other than the ones outside. When I could hear nothing, I carefully made my way to the end of a long corridor, where a single door stood ajar. Curiously, I peered into the room beyond and thought it was empty. I made to walk into it.

Until Malfoy appeared and threw himself into an armchair. I jumped back hurriedly, praying to god that he hadn't seen me, and wondered what the hell he was doing on the seventh floor at this time of night.

Okay, I'll admit it; I wasn't overly concerned with being caught out of bed by Malfoy, just then. When I'd finally taken a good look at him, I noticed he was naked from the waist up. Not only am I unable to look away, but I want to burst in there and run my hands all over his rather impressive torso. Which is, of course, ridiculous; anyone would think I'm ... Pansy.

It was second nature to go in there and kiss him until he was left gasping, but I stayed where I was, instead. After all, was he alone in there or not? He was still staring at the fire, the brooding look on his face making his features doubly attractive and almost shattering my self control. Goddammit, why does he have to be so bloody gorgeous?

Screw it, I'm going to go in there and talk to him. That is, if my legs still work. They seem to prefer to watch Malfoy without his knowledge.

So I pushed to door open gently, peeking around it, making a quick check that Malfoy was the only one in the room. He was, incidentally, and I walked purposefully towards him, plonking myself in the seat opposite him. I could see him visibly brace himself when he saw who it was.

"Are you so scared to be alone with me?" I teased. "God, Draco, I'm not going to hex you. Though you'd deserve it," I added, throwing him mini-glare.

Instead of replying, Draco simply swallowed hard, and stared at me. Glancing down, I saw what was causing him so much discomfort. It was my pyjamas, you see, they were light blue, with a vest-top that was actually pretty low-cut for nightwear.

I looked up again. "Do you think you could look at my face, and not just my cleavage?" I said dryly, when Draco's eyes were still fixated on my chest.

His eyes quickly snapped up to meet mine, and he blushed faintly. "Sorry," he muttered. "You just ... surprised me, that's all."

I quirked an eyebrow at that last comment, but I didn't answer. The silence was thick, and laced with some kind of tension.

"So, why are you up this late?" Draco asked after a few moments.

"Couldn't sleep," I shrugged. "You?"

"The same. I've been spending too much time thinking."

"Really? About what?"

"The usual; school stuff, my parents, Quidditch ... you." His eyes left mine at that point, and it took several seconds for me to work out what he'd just said.

I blinked when it had sunk in. "Oh," I said blankly. "Right."

There was another unfortunate silence, while I pondered Draco's words. It hadn't escaped my attention that he'd left out any mention of Pansy, for which I am extremely pleased about.

"Erm," I said eventually, trying to keep away from such an intense subject. "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

I looked back at him to find his eyes already glued to me. And to my face this time, not my chest, thankfully.

"I ..." He trailed off at the first syllable.

"Come on, you can tell me. I'll try not to laugh." I thought it was very magnanimous of me to promise something like that; he hadn't, after all, been a very sensitive person the last few days.

"It's over there," Draco shrugged finally, pointing to the bundle of fabric under the windowsill. "It got too hot with the fire, and - well ..."

"Why didn't you spell the fire out?" I asked, wondering why he didn't go for the simple option.

"Because I wasn't thinking straight." He casually leant back in his seat, starting to relax. Unfortunately the gesture only served to make me more uncomfortable. Damn, Draco was making it really hard for me to concentrate, as usual.

"Why?" I asked, my voice almost a whisper as I watched the muscles in Draco's arms as he crossed them.

"I was thinking about you," he said, at last, "and that kiss. Blaise, you ... you don't know what you do to me." The final sentence was spoken so bluntly, I thought for a second he was having me on. One look at his grey eyes, though, told me all I needed to know.

He was telling the truth. Fuck, he really knows how to make a girl tremble.

I jumped from my seat almost before I realised I was standing. Draco gave me an odd look, which quickly turned to one of surprise as I deposited myself on his knees. Then he smiled, and my heart was trying to leap out of my throat, and I could feel Draco's heartbeat racing as well. I wondered, for a moment, how he could be so calm and in control, until I leant forwards, stopping just centimetres from his lips. Then I felt the way his hands tightened around my waist, one arm snaking up, cupping the back of my head, and the tiny gasp he gave as I shifted slightly in his lap.

Well, that pretty much obliterated my self-control, and I closed the rest of the gap and latched onto his lips hungrily.

Despite only having shared one kiss, I knew exactly where Draco was most sensitive - i.e. the places that would turn him on most - and a low moan escaped from his mouth as I licked the skin behind his ear. It was sort of an instinctive thing, and he seemed to get the point straight away, since he roughly kissed my neck. Well, that was definitely going to leave a mark.

And just as things were going in the right direction, and our actions were speaking for us, the door burst fully open and Draco and I sprang apart, though I didn't get up from his legs.

In the doorway, looking like she'd just swallowed a lemon, was Pansy. Oh, what brilliant timing, I don't think.

"Draco!" she gasped, her eyes widening at the spectacle in front of her.

I started to get up, thinking that this would be a good time for Draco to break the news to her, but he held me in place, keeping his arms encircled around my waist. Pansy noticed this, and her eyes narrowed.

"How could you?" she whined piteously. "I thought you loved me!"

"I think I've seen the error of my ways," Draco said smoothly, though there was a bite of impatience in his voice. "Blaise was only too happy to show me where I was going wrong."

Pansy turned malevolent blue eyes on me for a second, before she pouted and flicked her gaze back to Draco.

"She's nothing compared to me," she said after a pause, the hatred in her voice clear for everyone to hear.

"I think you'll find that she surpasses you in more ways than one, Pansy," Draco said in a low, heated voice.

"Though we still have yet to find out how much," I chimed in helpfully. "So, if you wouldn't mind, could you just ... fuck off?"

The door slammed shut in Pansy's face, and I glanced down at Draco. "There was no need to close the door on her," I said, mock-seriously. "Though I have to admit, it does get rid of her effectively."

"Then it was worth it," Draco said simply, and then he cut of my reply with another kiss.

I smiled against his mouth, and wondered how long we could last without being interrupted this time.