A Very Slytherin Affair

The first time it happened was after yet another of his fights with Draco. It had ended with Draco ordering Harry to leave the dungeon, and Harry had fled to the Prefects' bathroom in the hope that a nice, soothing bath would help him to feel better. As he relaxed into the water and desperately tried to stem the flow of his tears, he suddenly heard someone else enter the bathroom.

'Draco,' he thought, certain that his lover must have come looking for him to not-apologise, the way that Draco did.

However, when he looked up, the Slytherin that he saw was completely unexpected. Harry took in the chocolate coloured eyes, the mahogany hair, the slim, toned body and fine Italian features of none other than-

"Zabini?"

"Hello, Harry. From all that dreadful shouting I heard, I take it that our darling Draco has fallen out with you again? He really doesn't know how to treat you properly."

Harry said nothing, but watched, open-mouthed, as Blaise stripped naked and then slithered into the huge bath and settled himself next to Harry.

"If you were my boyfriend, Harry, I'd treat you properly," the dark haired boy whispered breathily into Harry's ear. Harry felt a hand settle on his thigh. He gulped.

"Blaise, look. Draco and I are fine; it was just a misunderstanding."

Blaise's hand travelled further up Harry's thigh.

"Yes, I know. Draco misunderstood how to treat someone as special as The Boy Who Lived."

Harry frowned.

"My being The Boy Wh - my being that has nothing to do with my relationship with Draco."

"I'm sure it doesn't," Blaise murmured absently as he slid his hand even further up Harry's thigh. "You see, Draco is used to being the most important person in his life; he's used to being better than everybody else, and he's used to treating everybody else like shit. He can't grasp the fact that you're not just a servant, or a toy, and he certainly can't understand that you're better than him."

"I'm not-" Harry's words were cut off as Blaise's lips suddenly pressed against his own.

"Mmmph!" Harry gave a muffled cry and pushed the Slytherin away from him. "What d'you think you're doing?" he demanded angrily.

Blaise gave a wicked grin.

"Comforting you, of course,"

"Well don't do it like-" But Blaise never found out what he wasn't to do it like, because as the Slytherin's hand reached its target, Harry's words were swallowed by a surprised gasp.

After that, nothing Harry said was coherent.

When they were finished, Harry fled the bathroom without looking at or speaking to Blaise. He spent the next month and more buying presents for Draco, studiously avoiding Blaise Zabini, and not being able to sleep for the guilt.

The second time it happened was four-and-a-half months later. Harry was sitting on the windowsill of an empty classroom in the Astronomy Tower. He gazed at the stars forlornly as the moon turned the tear-tracks on his face into shimmering silver streaks. For the sixth time in a row Draco had failed to turn up to meet Harry for their date, and for a few weeks now the blonde-haired Slytherin had been making up excuses to avoid his Gryffindor boyfriend.

When Blaise entered the room he immedietely sat down on the windowsill behind the unhappy Harry and wrapped his arms around the green-eyed boy in what could only be described as a hug.

"I think he's seeing somebody else," Harry whispered painfully. A wicked, knowing grin flashed across Blaise's face before the Gryffindor turned around to face him.

"I think he's having an affair." Another tear spilled from Harry's eyes as he lifted his face to Blaise's and pressed their lips together in a desperate kiss.

Two-and-a-half hours later saw Harry and Blaise lying on the floor of the deserted classroom, their limbs still tangled together; both completely naked and both completely sated. Blaise leaned over and kissed Harry leisurely on the lips. Harry squirmed uncomfortably.

"I should go," he said quietly, reaching for his robes. He stopped as he felt Blaise's hand on his arm.

"I had a great time. Meet me again tomorrow night?"

"I- no. I'm sorry, I can't. I have to go." Harry hurriedly pulled on his robes and fled the classroom without looking back.

Blaise lay back and rested his head on his arms with a wicked grin gracing his elegant features.

This time Harry only lost one week's sleep.