Pairings: Harry/Blaise, Draco/? Other het and slash pairings mentioned later on.

Summery: Dumbledore tries to help unite Hogwarts by showing them that there's a thin line between Houses. He asks those that have been almost sorted into a different House to stand up.

Notes: I couldn't get this fic out of my head unless I wrote it. I know it might seem a bit lame at first, but I had fun writing it, and I think that's what mainly counts in fanfiction, don't you? ;

I FIRST wrote this some time last year before book six ever came out. I had NO idea that Blaise is actually black, but that's not a big deal, right? Hehe. Anyway, thanks to the new book coming out, and the better discription of Blaise, I have decided to post this first part to see what others think of it. I will try to write up the next part when I can, but I have two other major fics in the works, so I don't know when I will get to part two to this.

Definition of Ophiomancy I found was: (n) Divination by serpents, as by their manner of eating, or by their coils. I'm using it for the title, as in the divination between Slytherins by their mannerisms.

Warnings: Slash. I'm sure you all know this by now. This is your only warning. There might be bits of Het in here too. Might be slightly OOC, but aren't all fanfiction stories?

Is now an AU.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: don't own, and won't make money off of this – characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

.-The Re-Sorting-.

The Hogwarts Express rolled into Platform 9 ¾, blowing steam in a type of greeting. Harry Potter, sixteen, and standing at 5'6", smiled at the train's entrance. He had been a bit reluctant about returning to Hogwarts at first, but staying with the Dursleys all summer had him missing his friends and some of his teachers. He also missed Quidditch, which he dearly hoped he was still part of the team, and he even missed the weird creatures that roamed the Forbidden Forest, and can't wait to find out what Hagrid's going to show them next. Even seeing the Slytherins would be better than being at the Dursleys doing nothing.

"Harry!" came a shrilling voice. Harry turned sharply and saw Hermione Granger bouncing up to him, curls flying. He was so pleased to see her.

"Hermione!" Harry was prepared for the usual questions and trustworthiness that he always seen in her eyes, but he wasn't prepared for the pair of arms wrapping around his neck and a face full of bushy brown curls. "OOF! Uh, good—good to see you, too—phttt! Hermione! Phhtt—I'm getting hair in my mouth!"

"Oh, sorry, Harry!" she stepped back tentatively, looking embarrassed. "I'm just so happy to see you! I'm glad you didn't go raving and do something foolish. I was worried about you!"

"But, I owled you three, no, four times this summer letting you know how I've been . . . ."

"Oh, I know, Harry, but—oh, I thought. . . ."

"You thought I was lying?" Harry said incredulously.

"Well, no, not exactly! I guess I just wasn't happy with just your words … I wanted proof, to see for myself that you're doing fine and all! You're not angry with me, are you? Oh, Harry, we've got so much to discuss, you know, but not on the train… since it'll be a private conversation and everything, and I . . . ."

"Hermione! Breathe!" Ron said, walking up to them. He gave Harry a relieved look, and Harry raised an eyebrow. "Doing all right, mate? Sorry 'bout her, but you know she can be just like my mum."

Harry grinned, and Hermione smacked Ron on the shoulder.

"Ron!" she huffed.

"See?" Ron said exasperatingly. "She's even getting into physical abuse!"

Hermione's lips pressed into a thin line. "Oh, really, Ron! You're acting like you get abused all the time!"

"By you, I do," Ron said, giving Harry a knowing wink.

"Oh, honestly!" she said, rolling her eyes.

"I knew she'd say that," Ron muttered to Harry.

"I'm going to the Prefect's carriage now, just so you know. . . ."

"I knew she'd say that, too."

Hermione huffed, and whirled away in a flourish of golden locks.

"Damn. To follow, or not to follow, that is a tricky question."

Harry smiled with amusement. "Follow her, you great wanker! I'll go look for a compartment."

"Cheers, Harry!" he said, and then he was running off in the direction Hermione disappeared in.

The ride went as normal as usual. He sat with Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Seamus Finnigan. Harry mainly stared out the window, watching the scenery go by. Minutes later, he heard Ginny giggle at something Seamus had whispered to her. Harry wondered briefly if they were seeing each other or not, and if not, was she still seeing Dean Thomas. Neville looked to be startled from the laughter, too, staring suspiciously at them.

"No way!" Ginny shrieked. "He thinks I'm that way?? That's crazy!"

"Yeah, I mean, he's always been a real playboy," Seamus said. "Never thought of other girls' feelings, it seems . . ."

"Who?" Harry asked.

Ginny and Seamus whirled their heads at him; slightly surprised that Harry was asking that question. "Just Michael," Ginny said. "You know, that idiot that I was going out with last year?"

"Oh," Harry said, "him."

"Yeah, he's a real git." Seamus said.

"Speaking of which," Ginny said, nodding her head at the compartment door. It slid open to reveal the all too familiar face of Draco Malfoy and his two goons, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

"Well, well, well . . ." Malfoy began to say.

"That's a deep subject there, Malfoy," Ginny said.

"Ha-ha," Malfoy said apathetically. "You think because you're last in line of the Weasley blood, you've been given the brains that your brothers were denied."

"Malfoy," Harry's voice rumbled. "I don't know who transformed you back to normal, but they obviously forgot to turn your brain back into a human's."

Seamus, Ginny—and almost reluctantly—Neville, laughed. Draco turned red with what Harry figured was anger.

"You think you're so clever now, Potter!" Malfoy growled. "Just because the Minister believes you and Dumbledore now. . . ."

"Oh, yeah," Harry interrupted. "How is the Minister liking the fact that he had worked side by side with a Death Eater for so many years?"

"Leave My Father out of it, Potter!"

"Or else what?" Harry said challengingly.

Malfoy smirked, lifting his chin a little, and then looked back at Crabbe and Goyle. "Guess," he said.

Just as Harry, Ginny, and Seamus stood, wands out, there was a gasp behind the three Slytherins.

"Get out of it, Malfoy!" Ron's voice was music to Harry's ears.

"Or we'll report you!" said Hermione. The three Slytherins turned and noticed they were now out numbered. Hermione, Ron, Dean, and Luna Lovegood stood before them. Draco was no dummy; he gave Crabbe and Goyle a look that told them to follow his lead, and then he made his way through the crowd of DA members.

"Budge up, idiots." Draco said, slamming his shoulder into Dean's. Crabbe and Goyle were worse with plowing through, almost knocking Hermione down. Ron steadied her with an arm as she grabbed onto Ron's robe instinctively.

"Asshole!" Ron shouted.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped.

"Sorry," he said. "You all right, though?"

"Fine," she said, "but they won't be once I report them."

They all shuffled into the compartment, finding just enough room. Ron and Hermione had squeezed on either side of Harry, Ginny sat next to Ron, and Luna sat by Neville. Dean sat by Seamus, who was sitting on the other side of Ginny. Luna took out the newest edition of The Quibbler, and Ginny opened a silver compact that had different colored blushes and eyeliners in it. She looked into the mirror and started to apply some eye shadow.

"How've you been, Harry?" Dean asked.

"I'm all right," he said. Truthfully, he wasn't so sure if he was all right or not. It felt as if something inside of him changed. He didn't know if it was anything serious, or if it was a normal teenage feeling. Whenever he'd have normal dreams, they'd be weird or erotic. Some were starring his friends, and some had even had a couple enemies in them. Harry couldn't make heads or tails of it all, so he just chalked it up to going insane from the awful year he had last year.

Lost in thought, he didn't realize that they were at Hogwarts already until Hermione poked him in the shoulder.

"We're here, Harry. Get your robes on."

Harry sighed, still lost in thought, and followed his friends out. He had a strange feeling about this year.


"Another year has come . . ." Dumbledore started. They had just finished the sorting, but the Sorting Hat and stool was still sitting in front of the head table. Professor McGonagall, who was the Deputy Headmistress, usually brought the Sorting Hat and stool back to Dumbledore's office, but this time she just sat down at the head table next to Dumbledore.

"We have a very special experiment for the beginning of this year," the headmaster said, getting many to mumble and whisper amongst themselves. "As you all know, the four houses are divided by certain abilities and traits within yourselves, as well as what choices you make. But, there are times when an individual is suitable for more than one house."

The whispers got bigger. Dumbledore raised a hand for silence, and he got it right away. "There is a thin line between the houses, and it is one's own true nature and will that decides, in the end, which house we truly belong to. As such, I have concocted a test of just how thin this line really is."

Dumbledore walked around the table to where the Sorting Hat still sat on the stool. "I have had a rather interesting chat with the Sorting Hat, and he had agreed that if anyone has changed their minds of where they're stationed now, then they shall have another go at being sorted."

The murmurs started up again. Dumbledore closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "I would ask those of you that have been very close to being sorted into another house besides the one you chose, to please stand up."

Many students rose, and then after a while, a few others shakingly got to their feet. Almost reluctantly, Harry stood, being the last to do so. Ron gave him a wary look.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said to the standing students. "Now, for the test." He calmly laced his fingers together and smiled. "Those of you in the Slytherin house that are standing… please sit down if you've almost been sorted into Ravenclaw." About half of the Slytherins that were standing sat down. Draco Malfoy, who had been sitting during all of this, looked up at his best friend, Blaise Zabini, with what would be described as disbelief.

"Slytherins still standing that have almost been sorted into Hufflepuff… sit down."

All but one sat. Draco gave a sharp gasp, mouth gaping and eyes bulging. Blaise Zabini was the only Slytherin to stay standing, his knuckles have gone white against the wooden table.

"No," said Draco, slowly getting angry. "No, please don't tell me, Blaise…" he shot a venomous look at the Gryffindor table and then back at his friend. Blaise nodded slowly, frowning.

"It's true," he said, hands shaking. "I was almost sorted into Gryffindor."

After a few grumbled whispers later, Dumbledore motioned for Blaise to sit down. He turned his attention to the Ravenclaw table next, asking the same questions. Most of the Ravenclaws that were standing were almost sorted into Slytherin, and the other half were almost put into Gryffindor.

When Dumbledore finished doing the Hufflepuff table, which had the least amount of students standing, he finally turned to face the Gryffindor table.

Harry felt a large lump form in his throat. He knew this wasn't going to be good. At first he thought that maybe he should just sit down when Dumbledore asked about those almost sorted into Hufflepuff, seeing that he was actually pretty loyal to his friends and all… but he knew better. He knew that Dumbledore would call him out anyway. Besides that, did he really want to lie about this? He didn't end up in Slytherin after all, so it shouldn't really matter, should it? And when he saw how noble Blaise still stood, knowing that he was almost sorted into Gryffindor and didn't lie about it when Dumbledore asked about the other houses… his respect for the Slytherin grew.

"Those of you that are standing," said Dumbledore, "please sit down if you were almost sorted into Hufflepuff."

Quite a few of those that were standing, including Neville, sat down. Ron continued to look up at Harry with a sinking feeling. He knew that there was no way Harry was almost sorted into Ravenclaw.

"Those that were almost sorted into Ravenclaw…" Dumbledore said, pausing slightly, "sit down."

Hermione, as well as all the others that were still standing, sat. All except for one: Harry.

The entire Great Hall broke into eerie whispers. Harry felt his stomach churn as he stared at the table, willing himself not to look at anyone.

"Harry Potter was almost sorted into Slytherin?" some girl from the Slytherin table bellowed. This made the whispers even harsher. Harry felt his cheeks burning slightly from embarrassment and anger. Draco was exceptionally shocked, but he did recall the fact that Potter was a parselmouth.

"Silence, please!" Professor McGonagall shouted. The Hall finally fell silent. Harry looked up at the teacher's table, giving Dumbledore a slight glare, and then his head turned to look over at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was looking both shocked and appalled at this news. Harry moved his gaze from the blond to Zabini, who was looking at Harry with something close to confusion and awe. Harry gulped nervously.

"It's ok, Harry," said Dumbledore. "You may sit down now." Harry sat, trembling as he did.

"Now you see," the headmaster said quietly, "just how thin the line is between houses. I would ask you all to please consider this – what you have seen here – to be a lesson well learned." He motioned a hand at the stool where the sorting hat lay. "Does anyone wish to be resorted, or see if they're capable of being resorted?"

Many at the Gryffindor table turned to look at Harry. Harry tried to make himself look as small as possible in his seat. Hermione sighed audibly next to him and whispered, "I'm definitely staying in Gryffindor. How about you, Harry?"

Harry nodded, his voice not working at the moment.

"Bloody hell, I would want to stay, too!" said Ron on the other side of Harry.

But then, to the other's surprise, Neville stood up and walked over to the front table. Again, there were whispers, as they all stared and pointed at Neville. Harry watched, with some sorrow, as one of his good friends sat on the stool and had the Sorting Hat placed on him once more.

It wasn't before long when the Sorting Hat said, "Hufflepuff!" There were predictable gasps, and then Neville wobbled over to sit at the Hufflepuff table. The Hufflepuffs cheered as he sat next to Hannah Abbott.

"Anyone else like to be resorted?" Dumbledore asked kindly. A couple Hufflepuffs got up and walked toward the front. One was Zacharias Smith, and the other was Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"Oh, hell no…" mumbled Ron. "Please don't let that idiot be sorted into Gryffindor…"

"Who?" asked Hermione.

"Smith!" Ron said, exasperated. "I think the whole concept of HIM being a Gryffindor is out of the question!"

"Well, yeah… I suppose," said Hermione, eyeing Zacharias.

The Hufflepuff sat on the stool, and almost immediately, as the hat was placed on his head, it shouted, "Slytherin!"

"I knew it!!" shouted Ron, injuring almost everyone's ears in the process. The Slytherin table clapped. Draco looked very impressed, clapping enthusiastically. Smith sat down at the Slytherin table in front of Malfoy and his cronies, looking very smug.

Justin sat down on the stool looking very eager. The hat was placed upon his head, and then after a while, it shouted, "Gryffindor!"

"Yes!" Harry said suddenly, clapping along with everyone else. Justin walked over to the Gryffindor table with a grin. He sat instantly down where Neville was just at, between Ginny and Hermione.

"Hey, guys." Justin said.

"Hi, Justin." Hermione said.

"Hello, Justin," said Harry. "Welcome to Gryffindor."

"Thanks," Justin blushed slightly, ogling Harry. Harry looked away, staring at the table for a while, and then looked up at the Slytherin table again. To his surprise, Blaise Zabini was staring at him.

"Anyone else?" Dumbledore asked. No one else stood up, so Dumbledore took that as a sign that the resorting was complete. Professor McGonagall started to take the stool and Sorting Hat away, when the Hat suddenly spoke.

"Doesn't Harry Potter wish to switch?" It said loudly.

The Hall went deadly silent as many turned their heads to look at Harry, who was shaking his head vigorously.

"It looks like Mr. Potter doesn't wish to be resorted," said Dumbledore to the Sorting Hat. The Hat harrumphed, and then said, "I still stand by what I said all those years ago!" Professor McGonagall pressed her lips into a fine line before hauling the Hat and the stool away.

Harry wished that the floor would open up and swallow him.

The food finally appeared, and Harry attacked it like it was the only thing that would save him from humiliation. The Hall was soon filled with clattering silverware against plates and mutterings. Harry knew what most of them were talking about, and it aggravated him to no end.

"Hey, it's a good thing you were sorted into Gryffindor, Justin," Ron said, looking relieved. "I would scream bloody murder if Smith was sorted into our house. Wouldn't that be horrible?" he stuffed his face some more.

"Yeah, it would be, actually," said Justin. "We don't really get along too well."

"Well, looks like he's found himself a new friend," said Hermione, pointing at the Slytherin table with her fork. Zacharias Smith was yapping away with Malfoy, who was listening intently, looking like he had just found a long lost brother.

"It figures," said Ron. "Well, they deserve each other, I think."

Harry fought a sudden blush coursing through him. He wasn't sure what this new found reaction meant, but whatever it was, he didn't like it. He did his best to ignore everyone around him, but once in a while he would look back up at the Slytherin table and find Zabini still staring at him.

"What's up with him?" Hermione asked, noticing where Harry's looking. Harry shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat.

"I don't know, but… I think maybe he's still shocked that I was almost sorted into Slytherin," Harry sighed. "And, after all, he was almost sorted into our house."

"Yeah, that was a shock and a half," she said, still eyeing Zabini.

After a few moments of silence, Harry said, "I think I might have a talk with him."

Ron choked on his pumpkin juice.

"What?" said Hermione, looking at him oddly. "You're not serious, are you, Harry?"

Harry shrugged, but then said, "Yeah, I guess. I mean – it won't hurt anything, will it? We might have more in common than we think."

"Nutters," said Ron. "You've completely lost it, Harry. There's no way at all that… I mean… are you trying to make friends with him??"

Again, Harry shrugged, looking up at the Slytherin. Blaise's eyes bored into his, making him shiver. "I just want to talk," he said.

"Go for it," said Seamus suddenly, eyes glittering. "It might be a good thing to become a friend of a Slytherin… might become our own little spy, or something."

"Oh, honestly, Seamus!" Hermione huffed. The Irishman snickered, winking at Harry. Harry went red again, having that strange feeling swimming in his stomach. He was starting to get irritated by this monsterous feeling . . . whatever it was.


When the Sorting Feast was finally over with, everyone started to slowly file out and toward their common rooms, except for Harry. He got up and walked instantly toward the Slytherin table to catch up with Zabini. It was no surprise that Zabini was standing right next to Malfoy, who was known as his best friend, other than Crabbe and Goyle. Smith was also standing there, along with Theodore Nott, looking annoyed to see Harry approach them.

"Blaise Zabini?" Harry said tentatively.

"That's me," said Blaise, smiling slightly; his dark and exotic features making Harry's throat tighten. "What do you want, Potter?"

"Er—to… to talk?"

"About what?" Blaise asked uncertainly. The other Slytherins looked at him warily.

"Well, I figured that since you were almost sorted into Gryffindor, and I was almost sorted into Slytherin…" his voice trailed off.

"You can't become friends with my best friend, Potter," Malfoy said. "I won't allow it."

"Hush, Draco," said Blaise, giving his friend a stern look. Draco huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Don't you see that he's trying to steal you away?" Draco said, pouting like a spoiled little kid. "First, he decides to refuse my hand of friendship, then he becomes best friends with a Weasley, and now he's trying to take away MY best friend!"

"I'm not trying to take away anyone's friend, Malfoy!" Harry grounded out. Draco glared at him.

"Now, now, children," Blaise said in a teasing manner. "No fighting. Remember, there's a thin line between houses…" this made Draco groan in annoyance, which made Harry happy.

"Shut up about that stupid thin line crap!" Draco growled.

Blaise laughed, "Draco doesn't like what the headmaster did. He knows his best friend better than he thought, now," he smiled.

"For Salazar's sake, shut up!" Draco said.

Harry smiled, despite the fact that he had a group of Slytherins staring at him. "You might be more like me than I first thought," he said to Blaise.

"Hell no!" said Draco. "You are NOTHING like my best friend, Potter!"

Blaise raised an eyebrow, and then gave Harry a little bow.

"It's possible, Potter… it's possible." He winked, which in turn made Harry blush again. He was starting to get really annoyed about this feeling. Blaise must have noticed, because he suddenly had Blaise's hand on his shoulder. "Let's go somewhere to talk, then."

Harry nodded, his cheeks going warm. He stared at the dark boy, noticing that he had very small, light brown freckles on the bridge of his nose and sprinkled lightly around his cheeks. Blaise's brown eyes were shining with something that Harry had never seen before, and he didn't know if it made him excited or nervous.

"Where?" Harry said, finally finding his voice.

Blaise grabbed his wrist. "Follow me," he said softly. Harry nodded, slightly aware of the glares he was receiving from the other Slytherins.

"You're nutters, Blaise," said Draco, still looking put out.

Blaise turned to lay a hand on his best friend's shoulder, "He's not stealing me away, Draco. Don't worry, ok? It'll only take me a few minutes." Draco huffed again, clearly not enjoying it, making Blaise chuckle. "Let's go, then," he said to Harry, and he led them out of the doors and into the hallway.


The two found themselves in one of Filch's broom cupboards. The fact that he was alone in a cupboard with another boy was making Harry's insides do flips again. Harry ignored what that meant as he stared at Blaise, who was suddenly too close for comfort. Harry backed up a little, only to find the edge of a bench.

"Relax, Harry," Blaise said softly. "I'm not going to hurt you or anything."

Harry gaped slightly. "You said my name."

"Of course I did." Blaise smiled cheekily. "What's wrong with that? If you wish to be friends with me… or, is there something else on your mind?"

That brought those forbidden thoughts to the surface, causing Harry to blush so hard that his cheeks felt like they'd fall off.

"I don't know what you mean," he said, sounding like a trapped animal. The look in Blaise's eyes confirmed just why Blaise didn't object to the talk. He tried swallowing the large lump that suddenly formed in his throat.

"Yes, you do." Blaise said simply. He walked forward, getting Harry to back up more into the workbench. It shook and rattled from the sudden nudge, tools and other equipment jingling behind him. "I know, Harry… I know what's going on in your mind…"

"No, you don't," Harry said tersely. "You haven't a clue…"

"Don't I?" Blaise's face was suddenly all there was in Harry's viewpoint. Harry shivered, looking away, and blushing crazily. "Don't play games with me, Potter," Blaise continued softly. "I noticed the looks you were giving me during the feast, and it wasn't because you were thinking about becoming my friend, was it?"

Harry shook his head, not believing this was all happening. He had been thinking, without realizing it, certain things about the Slytherin, but he didn't think it was anything serious.

"It's not what you think…"

Blaise put both hands on Harry's shoulders, getting Harry to jump slightly.

"I think it is… so don't be denying it, Harry." When he noticed that Harry still wasn't looking at him, he put a finger underneath Harry's chin and forced him to look directly into his eyes. Those green irises flashed, and Blaise knew just why they flashed like that. It was an unmistakable emotion that Blaise knew too well.

"It's not," Harry stifled.

"Yes, it is," said Blaise, moving closer to Harry's face.

Harry's breath hitched, and soon, before his brain could comprehend just what was going on, his eyes fluttered shut in the expectation of a kiss. Blaise cocked his head a little, and then softly made lip on lip contact with the other boy. Harry shuddered almost violently under his touch, making him, in turn, shudder as well.

It was not at all the way Harry had expected it to be. He remembered the way it felt to kiss Cho, and this was NOT how it had felt before. Blaise's lips were only slightly damp, and they were hot and passionate, and it was affecting him in the most sensual manner ever.

When Blaise finally released his lips from Harry's, Harry pushed at his chest, panting heavily.

"This—this is wrong."

"Is it?" Blaise asked softly. "I doubt it."

"Shut up!" Harry choked. "This… there's no way… I can't be…"

"Looks like you are," Blaise said as nicely as he could.

Harry's cheeks went bright red. "I'll never hear the end of it…"

"There's no way you wouldn't, anyway. You're Harry Potter. You're always talked about."

"I can't … you're—you're Malfoy's best friend…"

"So?" said Blaise, looking amused. "That doesn't mean that I can't have a certain, delectable Gryffindor…"

Harry shook his head wildly, trying to move away from the urging Slytherin. Blaise moved around to keep Harry's body wedged between his and the workbench.

"We can't. We're…"

"We're alike in many ways, Harry. Isn't that why you wanted to talk to me in the first place? Besides, what would we talk about? Quidditch? Homework? I really didn't think there's anything we could start a conversation about. Except for…" he moved his face forward again, and Harry flinched.

"I better go…" Harry said quickly, "before they worry about me and… and come looking for me."

"I placed a Locking Charm on the door," Blaise said absently.

Harry's eyes widened, "Oh, I… no, we can't… we're not even…" he suddenly found himself being kissed again. Against his will, he moaned in Blaise's mouth and slowly moved his hands over Blaise's biceps. Harry felt a sudden thrill of excitement as the kiss deepened, and then suddenly there was a tongue in his mouth, and he was shivering and shaking.

Blaise finally let go of Harry's mouth, and then murmured against them, "Go out with me, Harry… please? I want to be your boyfriend."

Harry gasped, feeling his heart beating madly in his chest. He was so confused, though, that he wasn't sure what he should do. Blaise would be his first boyfriend ever … and if he did say yes, then he'd be coming out of the closet, so to speak. But, if he said no, he might regret it. Blaise was a Slytherin, but he was also a Gryffindor, deep down. That was probably how Blaise felt about him. Had Blaise been pining for him for a while, or was he just jumping into things too quickly?

"I–I'm very flattered, Blaise…" Harry licked his licks nervously. "But, I don't know … can you give me some time to think about it?"

Blaise looked crestfallen, but he said, "All right. I'll give you time. In the meantime, is it ok if I owl you every day? Can we go do something during some Hogsmeade weekend?"

Harry didn't understand fully why he nodded, but he did, and it made Blaise's face light up. That look made Harry smile, actually feeling somewhat elated by the turn of events.

"Good. I suppose I couldn't expect anything less from you, Harry. It'll be fun to woo you." Blaise winked.

Harry went red again, and then there were arms around him and lips upon his once more. Harry kissed back with vigor, actually considering changing his mind and saying yes to him.

The kiss ended too soon, and Blaise turned to unlock the door. Harry followed him out silently, cheeks still ablaze, wondering if he should tell his best friends exactly what happened.


As far as I know, this will be continued. This poor plot bunny had been in the works for months, but hadn't gotten far. Let us hope for the bunny to multiply, eh?