Title: Veela Choice
Author: Sweetiedogood
Pairing: Blaise Zabini/Harry Potter
Prompt #: 305 for Halmiade
Rating: NY-17
Word Count: 20000
Summary: Harry Potter caught Blaise Zabini's eye, too bad Harry hasn't realized it. BZ/HP. SlashA

Authors Notes: Written for the 2011 do_me_veela fest on LJ.

April 2002

If Harry was allowed to scowl, he would. He didn't know how they did it, but someone they'd lured his trusty assistant away from him. He couldn't remember how it happened, one moment she was in his ear muttering the names, and titles of the people that approached and the next she was on the other side of ballroom, chatting up the head of Creature Control. He could tell by the way that her fingers kept twitching that she wanted to get away and that decorum made her stay.

Slowly, Harry tried to ease his way to her side. He curved his shoulders forward and kept his eyes on the ground. The child in him knew how to be invisible. He'd made it halfway across the room when he noticed someone striding towards him with purpose.

If he were allowed, Harry would have groaned.

The only thing Harry knew about him was that he was a foreign, the loudness of his robes attested to that. It seemed Pansy noticed the stranger too because her glances towards Harry came more frequently. Harry increased his shuffle to an amble. He couldn't look as if he were running away. One mistake, one misplaced title or misspoken name could cost them overseas support and he needed their support. The closer the man got the more the dread in Harry grew, until finally he was before him.

"Harry! It is so good to see you again!" The man greeted warmly and Harry could have flinched. He obviously met this man several times before.

"Signore Legundi!" A loud voice interjected from the side and Harry allowed a sigh of relief. A tall dark figure came between him and Legundi, embracing as if they were cousins. "Come stai? E 'stato un tempo che ci hai visitato."

From the looks Signore Legundi was giving Harry overtop the other man's shoulders; he was not off the hook. He looked over to where Pansy was, only to see that she had disappeared.

"Signore Victor Legundi," a familiar voice whispered into his ear. Harry whipped around to see Pansy. "He is in favor of the children's bill, however, against what you have proposed for the adults." Harry nodded. It was all coming back. He should have recognized the man by the overbearing orange and gold robes he decided to wear.

"Here he comes," Pansy hissed and Harry turned around a gracious smile on his face preparing himself mentally, completely forgetting about his dark knight.

March 3rd 2006

Harry was thankful that it wasn't Pansy that answered the door when he finally arrived at her lavish new house. There were so many people, none of whom he knew. He was torn between being thankful for their numbers, because Pansy was too distracted to be bothered with him, or to leave because of his paranoia. He didn't know how he'd let Pansy talk him into coming to her house warming party.

'Possibly because your salary allowed her to buy the house?' Harry's conscious drawled and Harry scowled into his glass.

'Shut up,' Harry reminded that voice in the back of his mind as guzzled his champagne in one go. It was bad enough having a conscious that wouldn't let him live in denial, it was worse because his conscious took the drawling tones of Draco Malfoy.

'You know you love it.'

Once upon a time Harry would have complained bitterly to Ron and Hermione about having such a voice in his head, but now he just complained to himself. He'd accepted the fact that the cosmos didn't like him and went out of its way to make his life miserable. It was all a part of being Harry bloody Potter.

Harry bloody Potter who after years of fearing for his life at every turn had a problem with being in places where there were a lot of people that he didn't know. Even though consciously he knew that Pansy wouldn't have invited anyone with a vendetta against him, he still couldn't convince his muscles to relax or his hands to stop trembling.

Some savior of the Wizarding World.

Harry was broken out of his thoughts by wide protuberant eyes not three inches from his face. He started before leaning back nervously. No matter how long they had been friends, Luna's stare still unnerved him. She was either going to say something terribly profound or…

"Is there a whipsnorkle in your thoughts Harry?"

…completely incomprehensible.

Large hands placed on either side of Luna's shoulders pulled her away from Harry's face.

"Bill?" Harry asked unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. Immediately Harry's tense muscles melted. There were three, three people that he trusted in the room. The smile that the eldest Weasley gave him was cheerful, despite the fact that Harry could see the anxiety in his shoulders. It was to be expected however, he was a both a lion and a wolf and was efficiently trapped in a den of snakes.

Luna however, looked as relaxed as she always did. There was a small smile on her face as she bobbed to the music. If Harry was a lion with chained up snake, and Bill was both a lion and a wolf… then that made Luna a… unicorn?

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts only to see Bill watching him with a knowing smile on his face.

"If I didn't know you were queer as Charlie, I'd have to fight you for looking at my woman like that," Bill teased. Harry knew he was just playing, but the blush rose on his face all the same. He was happy that Bill found happiness in Luna. He had been so devastated when Fleur left him because of his scars and zat wolf!

Then Luna had come in with her never-ending patience, dreamy smiles and… well… Lunaness.

"I don't like blondes," Harry blanched and Bill laughed.

"Harry likes his men of the more exotic sort," Luna confided to Bill mischievously and Harry spluttered.


"It's true, Harry. Besides, how are you ever going to find yourself a man if you don't tell people what you like?"

Luna's eyes widened in that particular way that they did when she thought she had a good idea.

"Harry you can come live with us! I'm sure that we can—"

"So how'd Pansy drag both of you here?" Harry blurted out quickly, hoping that his mortification didn't show on his face. He was never drinking with Luna again, ever, but especially after watching Brazilians on the telly.

It seemed this once that Luna got the idea because she tactfully dropped the subject. "Pansy didn't drag me." Luna said matter-of-factly and poked an index finger to Bill's ribs. "This one did. I had plans," she sniffed as she turned away from both of them.

There was a small silence where Bill and Harry both stared after her, before catching each other's eyes and shrugging it off.

"So…. how'd she do it?" Harry asked again, getting the sneaking suspicion that he wasn't the only one that Pansy manipulated into coming. He knew she did it for him, and her thoughtfulness warmed his heart.

"She uhm—well she—" Bill was blushing. Bill never blushed. That definitely meant that Pansy tricked him into coming, just like she did Harry. The more Bill spluttered, the bigger the grin on Harry's face got.

"Never mind," Bill snapped his face a ripe tomato and Harry laughed aloud.

"Luna?" He questioned, tilting his head to the left. The blonde looked away from the stereo bobbing her head to the beat. She smiled serenely at Harry before she said, "Crocodile tears," in the flattest voice Harry had ever heard.

"You have to explain this one," Harry said grinning widely at Bill and the redhead sighed.

"Well, actually Harry, she used you." Bill said shaking his head and Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"What'd she say?" He asked only slightly. Absently he looked around the room for a server and grabbed another champagne glass.

"Well, she told me how thankful she was for me. How without me helping her with her werewolfism she probably would have committed suicide, then how when she was wallowing in self-pity at mooching off of Luna and I, her words not ours mind you, I found her this amazing job, with fabulous pay, furthering 'the cause' for future generations." Bill paused sipping at his own champagne and shaking his head. "Now, keep in mind as I continue that she's already in tears and has gone through an entire box of tissues."

"I tell her that Luna and I had plans tonight and then she cut me off saying how nervous she was at your coming," Bill pointedly looked at Harry, like Harry didn't know Bill meant him. "She knew that most of her friends were Slytherin's from your year and had antagonized you growing up. She didn't want you to stand around looking awkward, and pretend you have a good time—because and I quote 'Merlin knows Harry needs to loosen up a bit and have a little fun. I swear I'd think he was fifty-six and not twenty-six. Do you know when the last time he got laid—'

"I get it," Harry said sharply the mortification on his face palpable. He signaled for another server to bring him another champagne, taking two off the tray and tossing them both back. "Thanks Bill," Harry muttered halfheartedly as he turned away. Bill grabbed his wrist and looked in his eyes questioningly, but Harry shook him off.

"Bathroom," he said shortly. He didn't know why Pansy's words affected him so strongly.

'Perhaps Potter, because they're true?' the Draco in his head interjected and Harry shook his head, locking the bathroom door once he got inside.

He couldn't hear the music of the party and he couldn't see the people. He couldn't believe Pansy would say those things about him, well, he could, but not to Bill. She normally said them to Harry's face in the comfort of his office as they did paperwork.

Who else was she discussing his private life with? Harry wondered as he splashed water onto his face. Who else had she told he was a wet mop with no life and why did he care so much? Harry looked into his reflection questioningly, but on received a question in response.

Sighing Harry looked away from himself, drying his hands. He shouldn't have let what Pansy said get to him like that, she was concerned. He'd just tell her, politely, why she didn't need such concerns or voice her opinions to others. Just as he was about to walk out the door, the voice that never shut up paused him.

'Give me one good reason you can't relax and have a bit of fun,' the Draco in his head said shortly as he examined his mental nails.

'I'm the head of a movement,' Harry thought back scowling. 'That's all the Ministry needs is for me to be caught drunk. They'd undermine my whole operation!' The Draco in his head didn't reply. Harry nodded and as he did so caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and had to take a step back. That's what he looked like when he was angry? It was terrifying!

'You look like that almost all the time now,' the Draco in his head supplied helpfully and Harry scowled again before quickly wiping the look off of his face.

'Now how would you feel, seeing the man who'd given you your life back walking around looking like that all the time?' the Draco in his head asked and Harry felt like a five year old child.

'Shut up,' he thought back, but it was missing his usual venom. 'I didn't give her her life back, Bill did.'

'No you did,' the Draco in his head insisted. 'Weasley, helped her get over the fact that she was a werewolf. You gave her the means to rub her affliction in her parent's faces for disowning her. She'd never be able to stand tall without you.'

If the Draco in his head was trying to make Harry feel bad, (I am), he was succeeding, (I know).

'This 'Movement' as you put it means as much to Pansy as it does to you. She'd never let you do anything to jeopardize it, nor would Lovegood or Weasley. You just can't remember how to let go. You've never really been allowed to, I understand that, but the war is over Harry. There are very few Death Eaters out there and none that you couldn't take… not that they're even a possibility in this situation. You felt the wards on this place, and besides that Pansy's a Slytherin.'

"Fine," Harry muttered to himself as he walked out of the bathroom. He took a deep breath, stole a glass of wine from a server, and walked back into the party. He was going to do it. He was going to have fun, for Pansy's sake.

The Draco in his head laughed smugly.

Faced with the room, Harry was pleased to note that there were less people, but that didn't stop his legs from growing roots. He nervously sipped his wine and looked around for Luna or Bill. When he couldn't see them, he began to gulp down his wine his hands becoming slippery.

He looked over at Pansy only to see Zambini, talking with her closely, his lips mere centimeters from her ear. After he was finished he walked off in the direction of the bar and Pansy looked around the room before locking eyes with Harry.

"Harry you're drinking tonight?" She squealed and Harry was certain they heard her in Switzerland, where he wanted to run to. "Oh come on Harry don't be embarrassed!" She said grinning as she walked across the room to usher her back to where she was standing. As he was dragged across the floor Harry did the only thing he could think of to distract him from the eyes watching him—he guzzled his wine.

"Everyone here knows you're a bit of Tense Timothy," she said patting him on the back good-naturedly. He smiled at her nervously. He'd never been around Pansy like this before, at least in a public setting. He could tell from her wide smile that she was both very comfortable, and very drunk.

The Draco in his head snorted. 'That is not drunk Potter, but her actions should tell you something. She's a Slytherin werewolf and comfortable here. Why aren't you?'

'She's comfortable because these are her friends!' Harry thought back hurriedly, trying to keep the scowl off of his face. He didn't know why he let the Draco in his head talk him into this. It was a stupid idea. Harry needed to be back against the wall where he belonged, intimidating scowl in place—or better yet he should have left with Luna and Bill!

Pansy was talking about something but Harry couldn't really hear her. "Harry, let me introduce you to my—wait—your cup's empty? Refill?"

"Yes, please." Harry muttered absentmindedly even though she didn't wait for a response before pouring.

"Now as I was saying Harry," she said as latched onto his arm in a vice grip. She kept glancing at him earnestly as she spoke, her hazel eyes the brightest he'd ever seen. "Let me introduce you too my friends. I know you don't know them, but their good people and I tried to invite Ron and Granger for you but—well—" Pansy broke off her lower lip beginning to wibble and Harry felt the oncoming of a panic attack.

He grabbed her chin and lifted it so she couldn't look away.

"I know how stubborn Hermione can be," Harry said softly. He tried to convey his gratitude for her caring through his eyes. He believed he succeeded because after a moment Pansy beamed at him again.

"So, we'll make do with what we have. This here Harry is Elizabeth Poisey. She was a Ravenclaw in the year below us. You weren't there when she was sorted because you decided to fly a car into the Whomping Willow!—just playing Harry—anyway—she and I became friends…"

Harry got lost in a blur of names, houses, inside jokes, and anecdotes. While he could claim that there were all to many for him to remember, his lapse could also be blamed on champagne flutes, glasses of wine, a bottle of wine, and of course shots.

Harry could remember looking pleadingly at a pair of chocolate brown eyes as he was dragged away to another group of Pansy's friends to meet.

1 Hour Later

"It's the door!" Pansy declared standing up and falling right back down. The party had waned to a few choice seven or eight people all of who were comfortably seated in a circle around Pansy's coffee table, everyone—but Harry.

"I shall get it!" Boot hollered and almost fell face forward. If it weren't for Zambini catching him Boot's face would have been a goner. From his spot on the speakers, Harry was slightly jealous that Boot got to be in Zabini's arms. Part of him wanted to walk over to Pansy and confide in her about the attractiveness of the mahogany skinned man—but the tension in his spine wouldn't let him move.

"You all are so drunk you'd get lost in the closet," Zambini said shortly, but with a fond smile. Shaking his head he sighed. "I'll go to door." As soon as he was out of earshot everyone began to whisper excitedly, and Harry felt left out so far away.

"It's part of the plan!" Pansy whispered loudly.

"Huh?" Harry called over unable to over the music.

"She said he's trying to get his man!" Poisey called over and Harry pouted. Zambini was a looker. Whoever his man was would be lucky to have him.

"He's trying to redesign Potter's interior!"

"What?" Harry called over.

"She said Blaise is a great interior designer!" Pansy hollered back giggling.

Harry gave her a half-hearted smile in return. He'd tried. He really did, but nothing could make him relax in a room full of foreign people. Luckily, for him it seemed like Pansy getting him drunk was enough to make her happy because she was ignoring him again in favor of her other friends.

'Cuz their not boring,' the Draco in his head said scathingly and Harry had to consciously keep himself from glaring. He was just about to tell the voice in his head exactly what he thought of him, before some very familiar fiery red curls caught his attention.

"GINNY!" Harry hollered jumping off the speaker and running to her. "You're here! Why are you here? Are you supposed to be here? Why are you so late? I'm so happy to see you?" The last part of Harry's babble was emphasized with a giant hug.

"Ginny?" Pansy called over confused before her eyes widened. "GINNY! I'm so happy you could make it! When you called and said you'd be late I didn't think—"

"Yeah, well I couldn't miss your housewarming could I?" Ginny asked with a bright smile as she elbowed Blaise in the gut. "Blaisey here would miss me too much, ain't that right Blaisey?"

The tall boy doubled over from laughter. In the back of Harry's mind something felt a little off, but he pushed it aside because Ginny was here and she was sober.

"Operation get Ginny and Blaisey drunk!" Harry hollered as he locked elbows with both the redhead and the brunette. "LETS GO!"

1.5 Hours Later

"Baby—bye bye bye—BYE BYE!"

"I don't really wanna make it tough!"

"I just wanna tell you that I had enough, Oohhoooo—"

"You may hate me but it aint no lie—baby bye bye byeeeeee!"

"I can't believe you know all the dance moves!" Harry chortled from his spot on the couch as Boot, Zambini, Ginny and Pansy performed the entire NSYNC* video. Harry had heard the song in passing once or twice, but he'd never seen the video—and when Blaisey found that out he insisted that they all act out, with background singers.

"Course I do," Blaisey grinned running a hand through his dredlocks.

"I've never seen hair like that before, can I touch it?" Harry asked in awe and Blaisey chuckled.

"Course you can," he rumbled and Harry laughed. He'd never felt anything like Blaisey's hair. They were wiry, but soft. As he got a closer look Harry could see that Blaisey's hair was actually curly and the locs seemed to… lock his curls in place.

"Ohhh," Harry breathed realization dawning in his head. He heard Blasiey purr and giggled he pushing him away shaking his head. "Less like a lion more like a ssssnake—" Harry fake hissed. Blaisey tensed, and smiled at him, looking slightly pained.

"Gin-gin!" Blaisey hollered.

"I'm right here you berk," she snapped from her spot on the floor.

"Where's Pansy?" he asked her seriously and she looked at him oddly before pointing in some vague direction. He nodded and then left.

"What's eatin him?" Harry asked as he rolled off the couch onto the ground in front of her.

"Who?" Ginny asked confused.


"WHO?" Ginny asked her eyes wide and Harry sighed in frustration.

"Blaisey Zambini!" Harry snapped as Ginny began to giggle uncontrollably.

"Oh God," she wheezed. "Is that what Pansy told you?"

"Pansy ain't tell me nuffin. I 'membered Zambini from Hogwarts and you called him Blaisey so—"

"Oh, that must be why he's so angry!" Ginny said in realization and Harry scowled deeply.

"What's he got to be angry for? Never mind, your no help—I'll ask him myself," and it was with great dignity that Harry Potter pushed himself off of the floor and into Blaisey Zambini's face.

"What's your pralem?" Harry asked his words slurring beyond his control.

"Huh?" Blaise asked him his face the picture of confusion; the cutest picture of confusion Harry had ever seen.

"Awh," Harry breathed and Blaisey took a step back.

"What?" he asked again and Harry paused before remembering.

"Yeah, what's your problem, why are you so angry Blais—"

"Harry, let me introduce you to my good friend Blaise Zabini!" Ginny said in a rush as she magically appeared next to Blaise.

"Wait, what?" Harry asked confused and Blaise nodded in agreement, although he did look happier somehow.

"Doesn't matter, Harry Potter—Blaise Zabini. Blaise Zabini—Harry Potter. Now are you two gunna shake hands or what?"

Harry and Blaise looked at each other, before Harry shrugged and stuck out his hand.

"Put it there, partner—" he said throwing on a terribly southern drawl and Blaise's lips quirked upward. He clasp Harry's hand and time froze…before continuing on as if nothing happened.

"Hey Blaise how'd you change your name without documentation cuz when you came it was definitely Blaisey Zambini…"

.5 hours later

"Say Harry, before you go—how would a bloke go about getting in contact with you?"

The question was called out from someone in the room, and Harry figured it was Boot because Pansy was glaring at him something awful, she was terribly over protective. Zabini was too, an awfully good friend for Harry to have only met him.

"If anyone in this room wants to get in contact with me, they havta go through Pansy! I give my secretary—um—staff associate Pansy the right to give out my address to anyone and everyone she trusts. Cuz I trust Pansy—and I love Pansy. Just like I love Hermione and Ron and—"

"We get it Mister Love Machine," Ginny said leaning on him support and Harry giggled as they swayed.

"Neither of you are in any condition to go home," Blaise said and Harry glared.

"Why are you so sober?" He demanded squinting at Blaise as if his narrowed eyes would make the other male more inebriated.

"I'm not!" Blaise insisted as he walked over to Ginny and Harry. "I'm just better at hiding it than you two," he said with a cheesy wink.

"You two are in no condition to floo or Apparated home." He said as he steered them further into the living room. "Stay here, Pansy has more than enough room because of that outrageous salary that Harry pays her."

" S'not outrageous!" Harry protested into Ginny's shoulder. He caught a whiff of her perfume and inhaled deeply.

"Ginny you smell gooooood," he breathed inhaling again.

"I should," she said haughtily, "it's my date perfume."

Blaise stiffened next to her and Harry looked at him confused.

"Alright there Blaise?" He asked and Blaise nodded in an exaggerated manner.

"I'm always better than alright; I'm a Zabini," he said pompously and Ginny snorted.

"Whatever you say lover boy."

She must have been drunker than she thought, because right after that she tripped making both her and Harry tumble.

"The floor's comfor—comfor—comfy," Harry sighed as he pressed his head to the carpet. "Sleep now."


November 2003

Pansy seemed to be enjoying herself, which made Harry happy. Being born a Parkinson, she'd always attended and thrown a lot of balls—but after her disownment that had ceased.

Which was why Harry allowed her this 'small' get together.

'Small' as in it was only for allies and friends—which ended up being roughly over one hundred and fifty people. Of those one hundred and fifty, seventy-five were werewolves and twenty-five of them were children. Harry turned to the play area he'd moved into the ballroom and couldn't help but smile.

They looked so carefree, playing amongst themselves. At times like these he almost could forget the hardships they went through. He wished he could have allowed Teddy to come and play with them, but the risk was just too great even amongst his allies.

Everyone wanted to use Teddy to get to him. Harry almost lost him once, he'd never make the same mistakes again. Sighing Harry turned to see Pansy walking towards him a vaguely familiar black man trailing behind her. The closer she got the more he realized she looked slightly annoyed. He frowned.

"What's wrong Pansy?" He asked her seriously and her face opened in surprise.


"You're annoyed, what's wrong?" He asked her again and a small smile appeared on her lips.

"Nothing," she said softly before shaking her head. "I just wanted to introduce you to a good friend of mine. Harry this is-" the intruder alarm went off, filling the entire ballroom with the sound of sirens.

"HARRY POTTER WHAT YOU ARE DOING IS AN ABOMINATION!" A magically enhanced voice from outside boomed.

With an apologetic look to Pansy, and her rather attractive friend, Harry grit his teeth and walked towards the door, his wand tight in hand.


March 5th 2006

"Has Pansy still not come into work yet?" Hermione asked. Harry could hear the frown in her voice without having to look up from his desk. He made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat as his hand moved meticulously on the paper before him. He'd learned once he started the organization that his proposals would get rejected on grounds of being 'illegible'. The slightest grammatical mistake would get something that took months to compose sent back to his office, unseen by the proper people.

Hermione was silent, which Harry took to mean she was surveying his office. It was a mess, and his head hurt so much from his hangover that he didn't want the lights on, so he worked in darkness. He hadn't seen Pansy since the night of her party, though he'd heard from her several times.

She wasn't doing well, and he completely understood.

"Do you still have a hangover Harry?" Hermione asked softly as she sat across from him.

"Yes," he replied shortly as he put the notice he was writing in his 'out' box, and reached for another.

"I can't believe Pansy let you get this drunk, if I were there—"

"Hermione, please. First and foremost, I'm an adult." Harry paused to rub his head. "Second… I'm an adult. I'll drink however much I want, whenever the hell I want." Harry was being short, but he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. There was a bloody elephant in his head playing the trumpet with the Draco in his head singing off-key. He was not in a good mood.

The only thing even remotely good about him being in his office when he'd rather be in his bed watching Merlin, were the flowers currently sitting on Pansy's desk. He couldn't understand it, but looking at them made his spirits lift.

His eyes must have drifted over to them because Hermione's gaze found them and she gasp. "What are those Harry? I've never seen flowers like that before—"

Harry shook himself from his reverie and scowled. "I don't know what there are. The gold ones were here, yesterday and the blue ones were here today. I guess Pansy has some sort of secret admirer—"

"They're for Pansy?" Hermione asked sourly and Harry rolled his eyes sighing wearily. Hermione's dislike of Pansy was tiresome; she had no logical reason to dislike the blonde.

"I assume so Hermione. They certainly aren't for me—"

"They didn't come with a card or anything?" Hermione asked as she got up from her seat to inspect the flowers.

"Dunno," Harry ground out through clenched teeth. "Didn't check. Moved all the crap away and went to work." He already didn't want to be here, he didn't need her interfering with his work with silly questions. The Draco in his head was singing a terrible rendition of Purple Rain and he just wanted to finish writing this proposal so he could go home.

Hermione gasp again and Harry looked up from his papers in annoyance. "What now?" He demanded and she stared at him with wide eyes.

"These are—magically made Harry. Their not even real flowers—I think—I think these are courting flowers!"

"That's nice," he replied not looking up from his work. Hermione's wonder made Harry want to inspect the flowers again, but… then again why should he? They were sent for Pansy, not him.

"Do you even know what courting flowers are Harry?" Hermione demanded and he shook his head absently.

"They're flowers especially made by a very serious suitor! These look as if they're made of gold… and oh! He must have sent the blue ones next, because they're sad. He probably thought her lack of response was a rejection, but he still wanted to remain hopeful. Oh, that's so romantic…wonder why he's courting a wench like Pansy…"

"Hermione…" Harry warned as he began to sign the papers in triplicate.

Hermione huffed. "I hope you chastise her as much as you do me."

"No," Harry said slowly. "Never have to… we don't really talk about you much. We work…"

Hermione continued to talk but Harry zoned out. There was something wrong with the papers he just signed… something in the wording… This was why he normally had Pansy here to do this job, she was a Slytherin and knew how to spot funnily worded agreements with her eyes closed.

Harry stared at the document for a moment longer before shaking his head and setting it to the side. He'd leave it for Pansy later. Absently he looked up and noticed Hermione still talking, he must have looked confused because a moment later she was glowering at him.

"You weren't even listening to me were you Harry? You're such a—" Hermione cut off tensely looking away and Harry clenched his teeth.

"You didn't even look at the stuff you moved did you Harry?" Hermione demanded.

Harry opened his mouth to tell her that he already told her that he didn't look at them, but she cut him of before he could get the first word out, which was terribly rude.

"There's a letter from Blaise Zabini—" she continued picking up the letter and waving it around wildly. Her mouth was moving, but Harry couldn't hear her. It was as if his ears stopped working.

'You may thank me,' the Draco in his head said graciously.

It seems that even the Draco in his head knew that this was not a day to mess with him because Harry's ears turned on just in time to hear Hermione finish with a flourish, "—that this letter is addressed to YOU!"

She slammed the letter on his desk and Harry looked up at her his mouth slack with surprise before he winced.

'Please don't get a conscious,' the Draco inside his head drawled rolling his eyes and Harry (mentally) glared.

'Isn't that suppose to be your job!' he snapped before turning his guilty green eyes on Hermione.

"I'm sorry Hermione," Harry whispered. "I just—I just—I don't even know. I'm here and I don't want to be, but I have to be. My head hurts, the Dr—voice in my head won't shut up… and… I just…" Harry trailed off sighing. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

'Comment on how she's here and Pansy isn't!' Draco piped up and the words were out of Harry's mouth before he could stop them. Hermione looked startled and then pleased.

"Of course I am when she isn't," she said primly. "I'm your best friend."

'I helped you,' cackled the Draco in his head and in response Harry just gave Hermione a small smile. They stayed like that for a moment before she pushed the letter into his hands and asked why Blaise was writing him.

"Not sure," Harry replied frowning. "That night is some what a blur. We talked about everything, and nothing—" Harry trailed off as he pulled out about twenty pages of envelope. "What the hell," he muttered as he began glancing over the first page.

"This his resume?" Harry asked Hermione handing the first three sheets over to her in confusion.

"Looks like it…" Hermione agreed sounding just as confused as he was. "But why would he be sending you his resume?"

"Dunno…" Harry said as he flipped through the sheets. They seemed to be recommendations. "I think someone may have mentioned him being an interior designer…" Harry trailed off as he reached a page titled Genealogy.

"He didn't…" Harry breathed as he looked at the sheet. "He did!" He gasped. In front of him was what seemed to be his full family tree. Feeling slightly ill Harry accepted the sheets from Hermione and put them back in order. Hermione watched him nervously and Harry sighed.

"He sent me his genealogy, Hermione." Harry said frowning deeply. "Why would he do something like that?"

Hermione's 'thinking frown' marred her features. "Perhaps it's a pureblood thing?" She suggested hesitantly.

"Doesn't explain why he'd send it to me though." Harry felt more than a bit disturbed. He knew he was drunk, but Blaise didn't seem like the pureblood bigot type. He was still a friend to Pansy despite her werewolfism…

"You did say you heard him call Ginny a blood traitor once didn't you?" Hermione asked and Harry nodded before shaking his head negative.

"Doesn't make any sense though. Him and Ginny seem to be pretty good friends now," Harry said slowly.

"Doesn't make any sense," Hermione agreed. "Maybe he has a secretary and she sent this out for him? It does seem like a complete package."

"Maybe…" Harry agreed trailing off. He was trying to remember why he gave Blaise his address in the first place. Did he trust him with the safe house idea? If the genealogy was an oversight Harry could use his help with the warehouse he brought.

"Hermione, hand me some blank parchment—" Harry said decidedly as he looked around his desk for his quill.

"What are you going to do?" She asked him as she handed him parchment from Pansy's desk.

"I'm going to invite him to dinner."


April 2004

Harry hated the Daily Prophet, and not only because it was owned by his slimy ex-boyfriend. He didn't care when they talked about him, he was used to it. But they'd gone too far with the last issue—besmirching everyone with Harry's closest circle, including his Godson.

You'd think by now everyone would know better than to attack Teddy in anyway, but apparently MacDougal seemed to think he was exempt.

"Pansy! Are we suing the Prophet for slander?" He demanded.

"Already taken care of!" She replied and Harry could hear the satisfaction in her voice.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, Harry. You have admirers in high places!"


March 6th 2006

Harry laughed as Blaise mimicked an enraged Pansy. He couldn't remember how they got on the subject of her, but it wasn't that important. Blaise was proving to be exactly what Harry remembered from Pansy's house warming. When Harry first arrived at the restaurant Blaise chose he'd been nervous. When he invited Blaise out he expected something more along the lines of 'pub and chips', not this expensive high scale restaurant he was in.

Blaise did pick a Muggle restaurant though, which had it's upsides and down. It was good because Harry didn't have to worry about the Prophet distorting their dinner in the news, it was bad because Harry got to see Blaise in a suit which made him more aware of how fit he was.

Blaise had strong broad shoulders and wicked grin that made Harry think of wicked things. His dredlocks came to his shoulders, and were a reddish brown color. Harry knew he'd touched them when he was drunk, but he couldn't really remember and his fingers itched to touch them again.

Not that he should. For all he knew Blaise was straight, and besides Blaise invited him here for work. He would not put his libido before his cause, not that Blaise would be interested in him—because he was straight.

"How did we get on this subject again?" Blaise asked chuckling and Harry mirrored him.

"I have no idea, we've talked about everything tonight." Harry said shaking his head.

'Everything but the safe house…' the annoying voice in his head spoke up and Harry stiffened. They'd been sitting for at least an hour, quite possibly two and he hadn't mentioned redesigning the warehouse?

Harry opened his mouth to speak, and shut it quickly when Blaise's callused hands grabbed his. Harry found himself staring wide-eyed deeply into chocolate brown eyes.

"I'm really happy you invited me to dinner Harry," Blaise said earnestly. Harry found himself staring at the full lips as they spoke, hoping that they'd help him comprehend what was occurring better. "Ignoring the flowers the first day is a signal of denial—but I'd been so hopeful, and heartbroken, that's why I sent the second set." Blaise smiled at Harry, rubbing his head sheepishly.

It was at that moment that Harry found his tongue. "Wha-?"

If Blaise heard him he didn't heed. "I'd hoped my genealogy charts didn't send you running—but I'm serious about this so I decided to be honest from the beginning."

"Wait—what? I'm confused. What are you talking about—the flowers? You're Pansy's suitor? Why was the letter in my name then?" There were too many questions and not enough answers. "You sent those charts purposefully? I didn't even look at them. Pansy won't care about your ancestors and neither does I—" Harry was effectively hushed by a finger pressed against his lips.

"First thing I want to say, is that you are completely oblivious." Blaise said shaking his head fondly. He said it like he knew Harry, something that wasn't really the case. "I don't even know why you thought those flowers were for Pansy, they were on your desk. I know, because I put them there myself."

Harry shook his lips free of Blaise's fingers. "You sent me courting flowers? You want to court me?" He demanded incredulously a blush staining his cheeks. Blaise nodded, the small smile on his face telling Harry he was amused.

"You can't you barely know me—we've only seen each other once before now!" Why was Harry protesting so much? Truthfully he'd been jealous of Pansy's courting flowers, that's why he'd ignored them and despite that he couldn't get over their beauty.

The fact that something so beautiful was made specifically for him made his head spin. He struggled with the urge to leave the restaurant at that very moment just to admire them.

"Wrong Harry," Blaise said sighing. "We've actually seen and been around each other twenty times before that, if not more. It's just that we're never close enough for anyone to introduce us. We've even interacted before…"

"You just don't remember me at all," Blaise said laughing in a forced tone. Harry could tell he was trying to make light of it, but could also see that he was slightly hurt by Harry bypassing him.

"Blaise…" Harry said softly unknowing of what else to say and Blaise shook his head quickly making his locs shimmy.

"I mean, you're busy right? What with the job, and your friends, and your job, and your godson, and that mask you wear when you're in public because you hate it so—I understand. You never really look at anyone when you're out… you just tend to glaze over them. You make just enough eye-contact that it looks like you see them…not that I watch you a lot or anything…."

Harry was once again flabbergasted. He was sure Blaise liked him to a fish because he couldn't keep his mouth closed. "How do you know that?" Harry breathed in wonder and was certain that under the melanin Blaise was blushing.

"I see you out a lot," he mumbled still not looking at Harry. "We attend several of the same Ministry functions, and charity events—" Blaise cleared his throat pointedly. "But none of that really matters because I finally got introduced to you—no thanks to that wench Pansy—and well… I'd assumed you accepted my courting proposal because you asked me to dinner—" Blaise grimaced and sighed.

"Give me a minute Blaise," Harry said quickly. "This is a lot and I want to make sure I understand it all."

Blaise looked at him, an incomprehensible look in his eyes, and nodded. Harry took a deep breath… and spoke.

"So if I've heard everything correctly you, Blaise Zabini, have been—um—noticing¬ me, Harry Potter. Because of said—umm—noticing, you Blaise Zabini, want to court me, Harry Potter. You, Blaise Zabini, sent those courting flowers—the gorgeous gold ones and the melancholy blue ones—to me, Harry Potter. You—"

"There's so many times I can nod before my head falls off Harry," Blaise interrupted and Harry narrowed his eyes at him. "Personally, I don't understand why you didn't get that I wanted to court you. The letter and the flowers were on your desk and while the flowers didn't come with a name—the letter did."

"It looked like a resume!" Harry countered hotly. He didn't think he'd ever been so embarrassed in his life. How could misconstrue things so easily?

"A resume?" Blaise asked dryly. "I wasn't aware of the fact that current jobseekers include letters citing all the reasons why they seek their future bosses company and things that they have in common. I also wasn't aware of the fact that current jobseekers, included letters of recommendation from their past partners citing their prowess as an amazing boyfriend—"

"You didn't!" Harry gasped, the blush on his face permanent and Blaise nodded in a dignified manner.

"I did—although," the almost blush appeared again. "It was at my mother's insistence. When she found out who caught my eye she insisted that we do things 'the right way'."

As soon as Harry thought he had a grasp on things, Blaise threw him another curveball. Harry could never imagine going to any of his exes and asking for a recommendation of all things, just the mere thought mortified him beyond belief.

"Just the people you broke up with or…"

"Everybody," Blaise said staunchly. "Every-single-one. I did note in red at the top which ones I dumped though and—" Blaise blushed again, Harry knew it was a blush this time. "Whatever the oldest one says about my skills as a lover doesn't count. I was a virgin and—"

"Why'd you send me your genealogy?"

The words flitted across Harry's mind and he blurted out the question before he could stop himself. He couldn't set himself up for pain, not again. He'd gotten involved once with someone who assumed he was a pureblood simply because he was Harry Potter… when he'd found out it was different he'd dumped Harry without a second thought.

"You didn't look at that either?" Blaise whined and Harry looked at him crossing his arms. He needed to know why Blaise would send him such a thing and he needed to know now. Before he started considering things further, and before he got his emotions all meddled—he needed to know where Blaise stood.

"I'm a Veela." Blaise said evenly, staunchly avoiding Harry's eyes.

There was silence, before Harry started laughing. The relief he felt made his entire body feel as though he were floating in the heavens. "That all? That's the only reason why?" He asked in relief and Blaise nodded a confused smile on his face.

"Good then, good—" Harry said nodding as he leaned forward to give Blaise a kiss on the lips. It was chaste, merely a brief meeting of pink on brown, but his heart jumped into his throat because of it. It was a good feeling. Harry pulled back smiling a smile that only got wider at the shocked look on Blaise's face.

Harry leaned back in a manner that he hoped was coy. "So, tell me more about this courting…"


Notable Headlines from the Daily Prophet, April 2004

Harry Potter: Biased Against Purebloods
Hermione Granger: Willing to do ANYTHING For Power
Bill Weasley, Pansy Parkinson and Luna Lovegood: Sex Magic Triad
Luna Lovegood, Clinically Insane
Teddy Lupin: Bloodthirsty Wolf at 6?
Serpent and Wolf co. Purchase Daily Prophet
Scott MacDougal's Secret Life
MacDougal Sentenced to Azkaban!


March 15th 2006

"So Uncle Harry what we doing?" Teddy asked him as he turned his hair bright blue in excitement.

"I thought we'd visit Auntie Hermione and Uncle Ron today," Harry said laughing at the face Teddy made. Distantly, he heard a knock at the door, or thought he did anyway.

"Awh, we always go there." The child whined his hair slowly bleeding brown. "I want to do something new and exciting! Lets go on an adventure!"

Chuckling at the sheer excitement in Teddy's voice Harry mussed the kids as he walked past towards the door. "Let me see who it is first and then we'll—" Harry's voice faltered as he opened the door to revel none other than Blaise. Blaise, who was here for their date. The date that Harry had completely slipped Harry's mind.

"Who is it Uncle Harry?" Teddy demanded as he peeped over Harry's waist to see. "Who are you?"

"Teddy!" Harry admonished embarrassed as he stepped back to open the door and let Blaise in. Blaise gave him a hug and a brief kiss on the cheek before moving to stand next to him.

"Who are you?" Teddy demanded again. "I know alla Uncle Harry's friends and you're not one of them."

"I'm not?" Blaise asked Harry feigning hurt and Harry glared at him.

"Don't encourage him," he told Blaise who laughed. Harry shook his head and turned to Teddy frowning. "This is my friend Blaise Zabini. Blaise this is Ted Remus Lupin, my godson who will be punished if he does not behave himself."

Teddy's eyes widened in surprise before the youngster glared at the ground. "Teddy, will you please go into the kitchen so that Blaise and I can have a grown up conversation?" Harry asked in a tone that explicitly said the question wasn't a question.

Shaking his head as Teddy stomped into the kitchen, Harry made a mental note to talk to the eight year old. Sighing deeply Harry turned to Blaise, putting his face in the six foot two man's shoulder. Blaise's intense heat seeped through both of their clothes and Harry felt his muscles relax.

"I forgot I made a date with you today," Harry muttered. "Today's my day with Teddy. I don't really spend as much time with him as I should…"

"Because you're doing your best to make life better for him," Blaise cut in as his large hands found Harry's back and began making soothing circles.

"Great job I'm doing," Harry muttered before shaking his head. "Anyway, I completely forgot and…"

"And?" Blaise prompted.

"We'll have to rain check." Harry mumbled even though he did not want Blaise to go.



"We can all go to the zoo," Blaise supplied. Harry stiffened at the thought. Because of his 'occupation' everybody knew of Teddy's affliction. They'd had stopped taking the boy out in public after an ordeal when he was three that almost had Harry locked in Azkaban.

"I've taken care of it," Blaise promised as his hands slowly slid Harry's back.

"How could you have taken care of it?" Harry asked languidly as Blaise's hands melted all his tension.

"Because your secretary is one of my closest friends," Blaise said smiling and Harry groaned. Blaise's right hand stopped rubbing to cup his cheek. Harry looked up slowly and when they made eye contact his heart froze in his chest. Blaise's eyes were open in a way he never thought they'd be.

Harry drowned in chocolate orbs filled with sincerity, and affection. Adoration seeped into his very pore with such intensity that he felt his body begin to tremble. As a soft hand brushed against his scar Harry couldn't suppress a shiver and wordlessly nodded his consent.

"I can be there for you." Blaise told him simply as he pressed a gentle kiss on Harry's head. Speechless, Harry nodded. They stood there for a moment, Harry absorbing what'd occurred and wondering if he'd made the right decision and Blaise—well—Harry didn't know what Blaise was thinking but his hands once again returned to Harry's back and held on.

The moment was perfect until, "WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING IN THERE?"


"Wow," Teddy breathed as they arrived at the golden gates of Italy's Menagerie. Harry would have breathed the same as well, if he could breathe.

Blaise transported them to the largest and most expensive zoo on the continent.

"Blaise! What are you doing? " Harry hissed as Teddy ran up to the ticket lines. A firm hand on the small of his back steered him behind the excited child.

"Calm down." Blaise assuaged as Teddy babbled to the ticket master. "Trust me, Harry. Let me be there for you." The words had not lost their affect as Harry promptly shut up.

"—and this is my first time at the zoo. Uncle Harry said we were supposed to go to Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione's, but I didn't want to go and then Blaise came who is apparently Uncle Harry's friend although I've never seen him before and he said we should go to the zoo but Uncle Harry didn't think so but the Blaise said something and Uncle Harry said something and Blaise said something and Uncle Harry melted—"

"How you doing Fernandez?" Blaise interrupted loudly as Harry put a firm hand on Teddy's head.

"I'm good," the ticket master said with an easy going smile. He looked back and forth between the two of them and Harry immediately stiffened. "So that'll be three then?" He asked and Harry's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

There was no glamour on them, no type of disguise. As Teddy accepted the tickets and pulled them into the zoo, Harry turned his glare onto Blaise. "That man wasn't fawning over me." He whispered hotly and Blaise laughed at him.

"You sound disappointed." Blaise teased, the smile on his face showing the stark contrast between his teeth and complexion. Harry blushed and opened his mouth to retort when Teddy, who had stopped gazing around in wonder long enough to remember why he was there, cut him off.

"Where should we go first?" Teddy asked as he spun widely in a circle. It was at that moment that Harry realized just how far he was letting Teddy travel from him. As soon as he was about to tell Teddy to hold his hand, Blaise spoke first.

"Where ever you want. There's a little map over there that tells you where everything is, how about you go look at it and tell us what you want to see?" By the time he'd finished speaking Teddy was already gone. The only thing keeping Harry from chasing after him was Blaise's hand firmly on his wrist.

Harry glared darkly at Blaise who grabbed at him again pulling him closer. "He's less than twelve feet away," Blaise muttered and Harry began to struggle in his arms. Blaise sighed.

"You're ruining the fun of the surprise. I thought you would have noticed it by now."

"Noticed what?" Harry snapped and Blaise shook his head.

"Look around Harry," he commanded and Harry's glare darkened before he acquiesced.

"It's a zoo," he deadpanned as he watched Teddy. So far no one had walked near him. Wait, no one had walked near him?

'And Potter finally gets it!'

Looking around Harry realized how scarce people were in the zoo. There were certainly people there, but not enough for this to be the biggest menagerie on the continent.

"We're at an illusion of the Italian Menagerie?" Harry suggested hopefully and Blaise's laughter not only dashed his hopes, but also made him feel like an idiot for hoping it.

Teddy trotted over to them excitedly and Harry was at his limit. "Blaise can you just tell me what the hell—"

"I called in a few favors, tugged a few strings, cursed a few politicians, and broke a few rules," Blaise said with a wink. "Or in laymen's terms, I rented the zoo for a day."

It was good that Teddy returned at that exact moment, babbling about how he wanted to see the Jabberwockies because Harry found himself incapable of talking. He allowed himself to be led by the hand by the overly excited eight year old. He smiled and nodded at all the right times, but didn't know what he was agreeing to.

It was incomprehensible, that Blaise was able to essentially borrow the biggest zoo for an entire day. It was further mystifying that Blaise did something of such epic proportions for Harry.

No, Harry realized as he watched Blaise go into a dramatic rendition Lewis Carroll's classic poem, that someone would go to such epic proportions for Harry and his godson. It was without a doubt the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for Harry (and Teddy.) The gesture was so sweet Harry felt himself filled with thick syrupy sugar to the point where he thought he would burst.

And then Blaise did it. Coming up from his bow he threw his head back making his dreds fly and Harry had a moment. Teddy's applause faded to the background as the sunlight created tantalizing shadows on Blaise's throat. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted and want seized Harry with a steadfast hand.

Blaise had just proven himself to be the most considerate man he'd ever dated and all Harry wanted to do was to fall to his knees before him. To lavish his adoration for Blaise with his tongue until it was Harry making him throw his head backwards and Harry making him close his eyes and—

"Harry?" Blaise asked him concerned. Harry blinked because suddenly Blaise was before him with Teddy both of them looking at him worried.

"Sorry, I had a moment," Harry said smiling. He ruffled Teddy's hair before saluting him. "Lead on Captain Ted!"

There was a pause, before a grin that threatened to split his face covered Teddy's face. His eyes turned green as he nodded turning.

"This way Lieutenant Potter!" He commanded as he marched off towards what seemed to be the apes. Harry watched him walk away, letting the contentment settle before grabbing Blaise's hand.

"Come on, Private Zabini!" He called as he dragged the larger man. "We're going to get left behind."

"Why do I have to be the private?" Blaise whined good-naturedly and Harry, Harry just laughed.


"Andromeda's ready," Harry said breaking the youngster from is concentration. He was trying to turn his hair into dredlocks, but he couldn't seem to get them right.

"I don't wanna go Uncle Harry," Teddy pouted as he rubbed his eyes. "I wanna stay here with you and Uncle Blaise."

Blaise's eyes widened at the title, but the contentment in Harry just grew.

"Uncle Blaise will be around," Harry promised as the trio walked towards the fire.

"Will I?" Blaise murmured in a low rumble that made desire flash in Harry before settling into his flesh.

"I almost forgot!" Blaise exclaimed tapping himself on the head. He walked over to the couch and reached behind it pulling a black bag from the zoo out. The sleep in Teddy's eyes faded as Andromeda watched with interest from the fire.

"I'd like for you to remember our outing," Blaise said as he reached into the bag. "So while you and Uncle Harry gobbling down ice-cream, I snuck away to the store and got you a present."

Teddy's eyes were wide with surprise and Harry's lips pursed slightly. He didn't like that someone else made his godson so happy.

"What is it?" Teddy breathed and reached for the bag, but Blaise pulled it out of his reach.

"Not so fast," Blaise warned. "When I got there I realized that we'd seen so many animals that I didn't know which was your favorite… so texted your Uncle Harry here and he told me that your favorite animal was a…" Blaise trailed off slightly and Harry snorted at the same time Teddy shouted "FLESH EATING SNAIL."

"A—flesh eating… snail…" Blaise finished, frowning deeply as he reached into his bag. He wiggled his hands around and ended up putting his entire arm into the bag before pulling out one plushy of green flesh eating snail with black spots.

Teddy clapped his hands in Glee grabbing his toy from Blaise with both hands. "Thank you!" He cheered before running and grabbing at Harry's legs.

"Today was the best outing ever Uncle Harry, the zoo was AMAZING."

Andromeda gave Harry a sharp look form the fire but he made a calming motion with his hand.

"I'm happy you had fun pup. Be good for Andromeda, yeah?" Harry asked as he ruffled Teddy's hair. Teddy nodded and walked towards the fire. He grabbed the floo powder and hesitated. Instead of throwing the floo powder in he instead threw himself at Blaise who was still kneeling on the floor.

"Thank you so much Uncle Blaise. Keep Uncle Harry happy for me while I'm gone, kay? He works too much."

Leaving all three adults rather shell-shocked, Teddy ran to the fire and threw in the floo powder yelling, "Tonks Crib!" before disappearing. Both Blaise allowed a moments pause before he started laughing.

"Smart kid," he remarked standing and Harry punched him playfully. Blaise moved to sit on the couch relaxing into it with a small sigh. With Teddy gone there was nothing else for Harry to focus on and he made acutely aware of gorgeous Blaise was. Suddenly small talk seemed immense and Harry's mouth went dry.

The silence was intense, roaring with words unsaid. Harry licked his lips nervously. "So um, how'd you do it?" He asked gesturing to the bag as he began to restlessly tidy up the couch by adjusting the pillows.

"I brought one of everything they had," Blaise said shrugging and Harry paused. "What?" he asked incredulously and Blaise laughed.

"Surprising you is fun. I'll do it as often as I can," he remarked tweaking Harry's nose before continuing, "I brought every plushy they had and they had one for every animal."

"That's…" Harry trailed off staring at the pillow he was supposed to be adjusting. A hand on his wrist tugged him into Blaise's lap sidesaddle.

"Nothing?" The mocha colored man supplied helpfully as he leaned closer to Harry. "A minor deed in my overall goal? My evil Slytherin plot to get your godson to like me so you have to keep me? A—"

"Shut up," Harry muttered closing the gap between them. When their mouths met a surge of chills burned up Harry's spine. Harry had never kissed lips so full and soft; he could do it forever. Blaise set the tone of the kiss and it was just like his courtship; thoughtful, calm and deliberate. Their noses brushed, his hand gently caressed Harry's spine.

Blaise squeezed the small of Harry's back and Harry groaned arching into it. Blaise used the groan to slip his tongue into Harry's mouth, a move Harry welcomed whole-heartedly, reaching up and grabbing a handful of Blaise's locks.

The addition of tongues didn't hurry the pace of the kiss, much to Harry's chagrin. Blaise enamored Harry's mouth with slow firm strokes of his tongue heightening his arousal with every caress. He was smoldering. Harry knew he wouldn't able to take much more. Blaise was too good. He'd never been so turned on simply from kissing. When they pulled apart Harry used the pause to adjust himself so that he was straddling Blaise. He felt Blaise's breath catch and smirked before leaning forward to mouthing at Blaise's neck.

Blaise inhaled slowly. "I think we should stop."

A hand moved to tangle itself in his hair and Harry paused. Slowly he nibbled his way to Blaise's collarbone before pulling back to stare him in the eyes. Blaise's eyes had darkened from chocolate to obsidian. He was speaking, but every time Harry looked down at his lips to hear him he was distracted.

"I want us to take it slow," Blaise continued. "I want—"

Harry stopped listening because his wants were different from Blaise's. Harry wanted those lips again and this time he wanted more. He wanted them everywhere-on his neck, chest, legs, cock. He wanted to feel that skillful tongue do scandalous things while he writhed underneath the perfect body. Harry groaned tightening his hold on Blaise's hair.

Desperate times needed desperate measures.

"Stop being a fucking woman," Harry snapped into Blaise's ear and he heard Blaise's mouth snap shut


Blaise's voice had a dangerous tinge that made chills breakout over Harry's body. "You heard me," he said shortly, "If I wanted a twat I'd be with Ginny." There was pause.

"I'll show you a fucking woman," Blaise growled yanking his hair, pulling him harshly into a kiss. It wasn't anything like their former kisses and Harry reveled in it. There was no finesse, no teasing, there was only assault. There was only Blaise's mouth everywhere, his hands a constant pressure at Harry's waist.

Harry moaned deeply, both hands buried in Blaise's hair as he welcomed the onslaught. His cock was tight in the confines of his jeans and he whined writhing against Blaise shamelessly begging for friction. He wanted to come, he needed to come. Harry felt a tingle of magic and then his jeans were gone. Another tingle and his shorts disappeared.

"This what you wanted Potter?" Blaise demanded a firm hand gripping his cock and Harry saw stars.

"Yes," he hissed arching into Blaise's hand throwing his head back. He blinked and Blaise's shirt disappeared. Blaise paused and Harry whined in frustration.

"Harry, was that wandless?" Blaise asked him breathlessly and Harry glared at him for stopping.


"Oh," Blaise said nodding. Harry was about to speak, but a wave of unnatural heat washed over him. Blaise reversed their positions so Harry was on the couch, with Blaise between his legs. Slowly, Blaise ran his hands down Harry's thighs and Harry gasp. All his senses were heightened. He could see the perspiration on Blaise's shoulders, he could hear his breath as if it were directly in his ear, he could smell a heady heavier scent under Blaise's cologne and he could feel every touch down to his soul.

Blaise grabbed his legs and pulled Harry's ass forward.

"Hold," he said shortly and Harry shuddered scrambling to do so.

The cold air at his opening made him shiver. His cock stood proudly against his curls, flushed dark with need. Blaise leaned back onto his hunches and admired the sight before him. Ordinarily Harry would have been embarrassed, those dark eyes watching him so vigil with his cheeks spread and his legs wide and his cock leaking precum from the slit. But he was too feverish to care.

He needed Blaise to do something—anything! He needed to come. He needed to feel Blaise's cock buried so far inside of him he couldn't breath. Harry's legs began to tremble with the effort of keeping them open for so long.

"Please!" He cried out and Blaise snapped out of his reverie. His hands grabbed Harry's cheeks firmly, driving his tongue between them. Harry bellowed as the wet and warm muscle pushed inside. Blaise had no semblance of control as he fucked Harry with his tongue.

"Nng, fuck—Blaise—" Harry was incoherent. He was panting and yet he couldn't breathe. His nerves were ablaze with pleasure, every part of his body crying out for more.

"More-more-more-more-more," Harry panted as he thrashed on the couch doing his best to hump Blaise's face from his position. A finger joined the tongue in his ass and he felt his groan start in his chest and tremble all the way to his toes.

"Yes," he hissed as he fucked himself on Blaise's tongue and finger. "Oh—God Blaise, need you—want you—" Harry broke off with a high pitch moan as Blaise's finger found his prostate. The heat that had been constantly stroking his body was inside him and he his body jerked involuntarily.

It was too good. His insides were liquefying. All his senses became hazy beyond his sense of touch. Blaise removed his tongue and Harry whimpered at the loss before another finger joined the first.

Blaise's mouth began to suck earnestly at Harry's cock and Harry bellowed. The two fingers on in his ass began to rub at his prostate and Harry's body began to thrum. He tensed and Blaise's fingers pressed harder as Blaise hollowed his cheeks and Harry was coming. Lightening raced from his prostate to his prick before circulating through his body. His muscles twitched as Harry's sight faded to darkness.

When he woke he was alone in his bed, the letter on his nightstand quelled his impending anger.


You're an evil Gryffindor to goad me like that. You knew exactly how to press my buttons, must have read the Vitae hm? Before you floo me angrily, just know that I did stay the night (you're quite the cuddler). I had to learn early in the morning because my mother and I have a scheduled breakfast. As much as I adore you I'm not willing to risk her wrath, not yet anyway.

Coffee is in your kitchen. I had one of my house elves whip you up some breakfast, it's in your microwave. Sorry about loosing control of my Veela allure last night—it's the reason you blacked out for so long.

How you withstood it enough to have an orgasm is beyond me, but then again I always knew you were special.

Thinking of you,


Harry couldn't keep the smile off of his face as he walked into kitchen. However, before he reached it someone on his couch made him pause. Sitting innocently between his pillows were two wolves, one black with chocolate eyes and one black with green eyes. Unwittingly the words issued by their zoo guide came back to Harry.

'However, it has been known for two lone wolves to come together and begin their own pack…'


As they talked about Harry's last fundraising event, he realized he didn't know what Blaise did for a living, and so he asked.

"I am a man of leisure with many talents," Blaise said shrugging and Harry raised an eyebrow.

"That means…."

"Exactly what I said. I am man of leisure with many talents."

Harry snorted. "You sound like an assassin or a mercenary."

"Could be," Blaise said with a wink and Harry rolled his eyes. "If that is the case then this particular assassin before you is willing to throw you a fundraising event. I guarantee you with my backing, we'll double what you made the last time."


"I'm amazing," Blaise agreed nodding. "We can do it around May 16th… how's that sound?"

Instead of replying Harry kissed him.


April 25th 2006

"Blaise Zabini?" Terry Boot repeated with wide eyes and Harry nodded a small smile on his face. Blaise always managed to get a memento for each of their dates. The one Terry was currently looking at was from their second date, a Quidditch game. It was a large black and yellow foam finger that was in Harry's seat when he arrived at work, put there by Pansy no doubt.

The Appleby Arrows played the Winburne Wasps. Harry was rooting for the Arrows, and Blaise who wasn't a big Quidditch fan, just decided to root for the Wasps to provide Harry with opposition, which turned out to be a lot of fun. The foam finger was black and yellow because, as expected, the Wasps won.

"I—uhm—Harry, are you sure that's wise?" Terry asked nervously and Harry's brows furrowed.

"Why wouldn't it be?" He asked suspiciously. "What have you heard?"

"Nothing! Nothing!" The former Ravenclaw said using his hands for emphasis. "It's just that… you know… his mom's the Black Widow. She's on her tenth husband." Harry didn't speak, and Terry took that as his cue to keep talking. "I don't even know why men keep marrying her… it's obvious that there's foul play going on. I can't understand her allure at all…" Terry shook his head trailing off.

Harry knew her allure though. She was a Veela. Blaise didn't speak of his mother much, all Harry knew of her was that Blaise looked almost exactly like her—and he got his Veela genes from her.

What was Terry trying to imply, that Blaise got more than just his genes from his mother? Was he planning on doing Harry the same way? Not kill him certainly, but was he using him for money or notoriety? If he was going to start a reputation like his mother's who better to begin with than Harry Potter?

'You're really full of yourself aren't you Potter?' the Draco in his head drawled and Harry's lips twitched.

"Damn, Harry I'm sorry!" Terry cried and Harry looked up from his dark thoughts shaking his head rapidly and trying to smile reassuringly.

"Sorry for what Terry? I mean—you didn't say anything but the truth. Blaise's mum is the black widow. That doesn't mean he's like her though…" Harry trailed off. Nothing in Blaise's actions even implied he was remotely like his mother. Hermione was suspicious of the whole ordeal and researched him thoroughly, all of his exes were happily living.

They weren't even all rich, or purebloods, or males. There didn't seem to be any correlation with his choice. Shaking his head Harry cleared his mind of the thoughts. He wasn't going to worry about Blaise being like his mother.

He wasn't.

"Anyway Terry, did you bring the papers? We should really get down to business…"


"Harry! You have another date with Zabini?" Hermione asked aghast and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I do," he said shortly fixing his tie. Blaise asked him to go to a Muggle art show with him and despite the fact that Harry was terrified of making a fool of himself, he agreed. Blaise did go to a Quidditch game with him, and even pretended to root for a team.

The least Harry could do was go out and pretend he knew about art.

"What is he your boyfriend or something?" Ron asked from beside Hermione in the two-way mirror.

Harry paused. "I guess so," he said with a shrug before continuing to struggle with his tie.

"Harry! I don't like this. Are you sure he's sincere? I can't believe my guy couldn't find any dirt—that means he's hiding it too well. He's still—" Harry glanced at the mirror to see Ron's hand firmly over Hermione's mouth.

"Well, as long as he makes you happy," Ron said scowling and Harry smiled.

He turned back to the mirror as the Draco in his head remarked, 'Well look at that Potter! You're not frightening yourself this time around. Looks like all you needed was a little bit more Slytherin in you—well, not a little bit more but you know what I mean.'


May 1st 2006

Strong hands gripped his hips tight enough to bruise…


…a pressure at his opening…


…his back arching as Blaise slid the tip in slowly…slowly…slowly…



Harry awoke with a start and then groaned loudly in his pillow. Trust Hermione to interrupt the only sex he'd get because Blaise still wanted to take it 'slow' whatever that meant.

Harry glared at his cock.


"You might as well go down you know," he snapped. His cock jumped in response, bloody unruly thing that it was. Sighing, Harry tossed on his robe before stumbling down to the door. It was too fucking early for whatever Hermione wanted.

"I'm COMING!" He called scratching his bollocks as another round of thumping began. Making sure his robe was tight around him; he threw the door open planning on giving Hermione the most vehement glare—only for his face to drop at the sadness in her eyes.

"What is it?" He whispered his heart clenching tightly in his chest.

Wordlessly, Hermione stepped in and handed him a picture. As soon as Harry looked at it his hands began to tremble.

"Where did you get this?" He whispered.

Hermione wrung her hands nervously as she answered him. "The P.I. investigated Blaise with gave it to me."

Harry nodded wordlessly letting the picture fall from his fingers. Anyone else would have been upset about their friend setting a private investigator in their lover, but not Harry. He'd done the same for several people Pansy dated once she started working for him, it was a necessary precaution.

"And it's recent?" He asked sharply and Hermione nodded.

"Only told him to research from when Blaise started courting you."

Harry nodded again. There was a heavy silence , amplified by the rattling of the furniture in Harry's room.

"FUCK!" A painting shattered.

"FUCK!" The coffee table splintered.

"FUCK!" The couch exploded.


To call Blaise insistent would have to be the understatement of the century. He called, text or owled Harry at least twenty times a day. He'd shown up to his work place several times, only to be chased away by Ron.

He kept demanding to know why Harry wouldn't see him, but didn't he know? How couldn't he know? Harry kept the evidence in his back pocket at all times. Hermione was right, he should have known better than to date The Black Widow's son.

'Potter do you even hear yourself?' the Draco in his head demanded.

Sighing, Harry looked over to Pansy hunched at her desk. Relations between them could be considered strained, at best. Part of him wanted to tell her what happened, but a larger part knew she'd go to Blaise.

Blaise knew what he did… he didn't need Harry hurt before him to give him any satisfaction.


May 11th

Blaise had finally given up. No more phone calls, texts, owls, or missives of any kind. The last time Harry had spoken to him was ten days ago, though it seemed like a year. His relationship with Pansy hadn't gotten any better. She was hurt by Harry's decision to keep the reasons behind their break up a secret, but she didn't need to know.

He was embarrassed.

No one else needed to know of his shame.

'You're an idiot,' the Draco in his head hissed as Harry searched for his keys.

'You're my conscious—shouldn't you be on my side?' Harry demanded.

'We both know what I am. You're the Gryffindor and I'm your inner Slytherin—except now you're sucking at being a Gryffindor—and you don't even care to know why!'

Harry was silent. He wanted to protest, but he knew his 'Slytherin Side' was right. He could showed Blaise the picture, but.., he was afraid. The feelings he felt made him terrified in a way he didn't understand. It was different from fight Dark Lords and defending the right cause.

"Some Gryffindor I am," he muttered to himself as he finally found his keys. Turning the lock and opening the door Harry tossed them on the table. He turned on the lights and stiffened, before throwing himself onto the floor narrowly avoiding a stunner.

"Hm, I suppose I won't be able to curse you then will I?" A prim voice spoke from his couch.

Harry rolled to the side, using the action to grab his wand before sending a stunner towards his assailant. She deftly blocked it with a shield charm by raising her hand. Harry stood to his feet, his wand before him.

"Really Mister Potter, there is no need for that. I did tell you I was coming—I sent you several owls."

Harry was gearing up for another spell when her words made him freeze. He read all of his owls, all of them except for…

"Harry you have several owls here from B. Zabini—"

"Pansy, how many times do I have to tell you I don't want to hear from Blaise. You need to stop your meddling, I know he's your friend but I'm your boss-"

Outwardly, Harry groaned and the woman before him smirked. Now that he was paying attention, he could see the resemblance in their faces.

"Belladonna Zabini," she said inclining her head and sitting back down on his couch. "I wish we were meeting under difference circumstances, but such things cannot be helped." She glanced back at Harry who was still standing with his wand out.

"You may put your wand away, Mister Potter. If my surprise stunner didn't work there's no way I'll be able to get a spell on you now that you're aware of my presence."

"I'd rather not if it's all the same to you," he said shortly.

"Pity," she with a shrug, but the smile on her face said she was pleased. She waved her wand and Harry's eyes narrowed, but all she did was conjure herself some tea. As she fixed it to her liking, Harry took the time to study her.

She was several shades lighter than Blaise, but it was obvious that she was his mother. They both at the same high cheekbones, and slanted almond shaped eyes. The clothes she was wearing reminded Harry of the flapper costume Ginny wore two Halloweens ago. Her hair was short, coming before her chin and in styled loose waves.

He could understand why men kept throwing themselves at her feet, begging for death.

"My son is unhappy, Mister Potter," Mrs. Zabini remarked as she looked up at him with dark eyes from her tea. "And I do not like it when he is unhappy. That is why I am here. You have made him unhappy. Fix it."

The anger that had been delayed by his confusion hit him at full force. If it weren't a woman before him, and a mother at that she'd already be reeling from the curses he'd send flying her way.

"It's not that simple," Harry ground out between clenched teeth. "And I think you need to leave."

There were many people that would quake before him faced with the look in his eyes. It wasn't only his power, but the single-minded determination evident in his eyes when angered.

Mrs. Zabini didn't bat an eyelid. In fact, she somehow managed to look down on him while sitting down disapproval illustrated by the expression on her face.

"You, Mister Potter, are terribly rude." Mrs. Zabini said shortly as she sipped her tea, gazing into her cup.

Harry's grip on his wand tightened, as it suddenly got warmer in the room.

"What my son sees in you I do not understand," she said simply as she swirled her up. "However, the fact is that he does see something in you."

It was getting uncomfortably warm. Harry narrowed his eyes as Belladonna Zabini's face began to get blurry. She looked so much, like Blaise. She was terribly beautiful.

"Tell me Mister Potter," she muttered her voice warm like melted wax. "Why have you not contacted my son… is there someone else who has your affections?"

Harry could feel the heat in her voice. It was anger, but it burned in him like passion.

"No," he said dreamily as he took a step towards her. "I could have played Quidditch professionally when I was eleven though—"

"Could you?" She breathed and Harry nodded energetically as he took another step forward. "Then why Mister Potter?" She purred. "Why are you causing my son such heartbreak?"

"Because I—" 'Bloody Hell, Potter snap out of it!'

The dreamy look in Harry's eyes dissipated and he shot another stunner at Zabini who deflected it with a surprised wave of her wand. The air in the room grew chilly. Harry was certain he could see icicles forming on his couch.

"Get out."

Mrs. Zabini rose, her wand firmly in hand. "Not until you tell me why my son is not good enough for you."

"It's not him that wasn't good enough," Harry snapped and a vase in the corner broke.

"So that's it? You suffer from low self-esteem Potter? I know my son his very attractive, cultured, well-mannered, witty, charming, and debonair but certainly the fact that he's seeking your attentions above all else is enough to prove to you that—"

The portrait on Harry's wall exploded; Mrs. Zabini didn't even start. Her eyes were the same shade as Blaise's with a similar determination to Harry's.

"My son has never been so heartbroken Mister Potter," she said shortly as though if the very words pained her. Just when Harry was about to tell her where her son could put his broken heart, she continued turning away.

"No, I am mistaken. The last time I saw him this depressed was when Draco Malfoy died."

The emotion that was roaring in Harry reached its apex, only to crash down into darkness. His wand arm fell down to his side. There was no deception in her eyes, no magnification in her voice.

"If he was so heartbroken then why did he do this?" Harry reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out the photo that Hermione gave him ten days ago. It was worn with use. He kept it with him to remind him of why he was ignoring Blaise, to stay strong.

He wordlessly handed her the photo and turned away, but not before he saw the frown marring her face.

"I do not know what this is Mister Potter," she said after a moment. "I do know the quaint Bistro that is here, Blaise and I go there occasionally while in Italy, and I do recognize my son. However, he has no acquaintance to that female in that photo."

"They seem acquainted to me," Harry said darkly turning back to face her.

"Well, why does the picture not move?" She asked him hesitantly. "So much cannot be seen from one snapshot."

Harry watched her as she frowned before tapping her wand on the picture twice.

"That dress does look familiar though, I do believe I own one very similar to it." She remarked as she unzoomed the picture and handed it back to Harry. "I am to believe that this photo is the reason why you have not been speaking to my son?"

Harry took the photo from her and put it back in his pocket with a wordless nod. He crossed his arms, waiting for her response. He knew what the photo looked like, and he was certain she was thinking the same of him.

"I cannot give you an reason for that Mister Potter," she confessed softly. "I was certain that my reputation was the reason you had ceased accompanying my son." She sat back down and placed her wand on the table before her.

Harry started at her words, she was too close to the truth for his liking. In all honestly it was the combination of the photo, and her reputation that made him cut Blaise off completely.

"However, if someone does decide to whisper in your ear let me make one thing perfectly clear to you Mister Potter, my son has no plans to be like me in that respect." The smile on her face was bitter as she continued, "Though it was never my plan to begin with." She shook her head before turning back to Harry.

"What do you know of Veela Mister Potter?"

She was throwing Harry off kilter with her mutating forms and emotions.

"Nothing really," he confessed. "Blaise said it was so watered down in him that it wouldn't really affect us. He said he got a bit of lure, and that was it."

The sigh Mrs. Zabini uttered was full of exasperation. "As Veela we are both blessed, and cursed Mister Potter. Full-blood Veela are born with destined Mates. Blaise is not one of them, and neither am I—but we still do Mate. We just have the ability to choose Mates." Her voice became wistful. "Veela mate for life. Once we choose someone and give our all to them—there's nothing left. The love of a Veela can be compared to agape, unwavering and eternal. When James died—" she broke off shaking her head.

It took Harry a moment to realize that James must have been the name of Blaise's father.

"If that's true then why do you get married so much?" Harry blurted out before cringing. The glare she gave him made him want to melt into the ground.

"Those men are nothing to me," she said shortly. "They are men who spoke and still continue to speak ill of my love even in his death—and for that I will send them to theirs."

The air around Harry grew tight. He felt as though the air was strangling him, becoming heavy and impossible to breathe.

Then suddenly it lifted.

"I am sorry Mister Potter. James has been dead for several years, but his death still affects me so. Thus is the strength of the Veela Choice." She was silent a moment more before standing once again. "My son believes that you are his best choice Mister Potter. Despite what you have heard, or seen—you had a good time with him, yes? I do believe he at least deserves to know why he is no longer in your graces."

Harry blinked and she was before him, looking uncannily like her son. Her hand on his cheek was soft. "You'll do this for me, won't you Mister Potter?"

It was unstated that she would come for him again if she did not. Without waiting for a reply she removed her hand from him and left, leaving the room silent but his thoughts overwhelming.

Harry walked into his room, and cursed. He did not need this right now. Strategically placed were the gifts that Blaise sent him, every single one. He'd told Pansy to get rid of them, he should've known better. As he lifted his arm to banish them all, he paused his eye catching the golden flowers he was sent the first day.

They were wilting.

Harry rushed over to his beside and cupped the one of the flowers in his hand. They truly were beautiful, even dying. They looked like blown gold lilies, with threads of green running through them as veins and a burst of orange at their center. He'd asked Blaise how they were made, but the man had been vague. All he said was that as long as the flowers had orange at their center, Blaise still fancied him.

As flattering as that answer was, Harry decided to ask Neville. According to Neville, Blaise fused gold and emeralds to a lily seed, a magically draining and tiresome process that most people could never manage. He'd magically bound the flowers to his emotions apparently as well.

The gold and emeralds explained the color, but not the orange and when Harry inquired about that Neville blushed.

It was mean to symbolize the flame that Blaise felt for him, his passion—and now that the flowers were wilting—what did that mean? Blaise and his new lover were happy?

"I'm sorry he's killing you," Harry whispered to the flower pulling it out of his vase. He paused for a moment, but gave into the temptation and buried his nose in the orange center. The flowers still smelled of Blaise.


"Hermione, your P.I. is trust worthy right?" Harry asked her and she nodded.

"Yes, Harry why—did that wench Pansy—"

"No not Pansy," Harry said quickly cutting her off. The things that Mrs. Zabini said to him, stuck. Why didn't the picture move? Wasn't Hermione's P.I. a Wizard? He asked Hermione the question and she frowned.

"I'm not sure," she responded uncertainly. "I'll ask definitely though."


May 16th

Three hours into the ball and Harry was still amazed. He'd never had a fundraiser where people were so…not political. It seemed as though everyone gathered came from old money and had whimsical tastes and ideals. Instead of getting into a veiled argument with people he found himself talking about people flying on dragons, and going treasure hunting for fun.

He wondered if they even knew why they were gathered, but he was certain they must. As the numbers hanging in the air grew every time he spoke to someone.

"Pansy, who organized this?" Harry asked amazing and she pursed her lips tightly before answering.

"An admirer of yours, Harry," she responded. "Your work inspired him."

"Really?" Harry asked flattered. "Well, why haven't I met him?"

"You'll see him soon," Pansy said turning towards the podium. "I think he's going to make a speech now."

Everyone was indeed turning towards the podium, Harry amongst them. Despite the fact that the fundraiser was for him, he wasn't asked to speak and that fact made him happy. He still hated public speaking despite the fact that it was a requirement.

"Where is he?" someone hissed.

"Here he comes!" someone else snapped and Harry turned his eyes towards the stage—and gasped.

There stood Blaise Zabini in all his glory. Harry turned to Pansy glaring at her darkly and she just raised an eyebrow at him.

"He and I have been planning this fundraiser for you for months. I asked him did he want to cancel, and he said no. Despite the fact that both of you had a falling out, he still believes in your cause." Pansy turned away from him to look at Blaise.

Harry did too.

"Thank you friends for gathering. I will not keep you long, but I decided I should speak on why I asked you here." Blaise paused, the light in his eyes diminishing slightly.

"As most of you may know, Magical Britain is still recovering from the war that occurred on its soil. However, this recovery is not going in the direction that it should. Harry Potter is a man that is trying to steer our country on the proper path." There were whispers and Harry felt the spotlight beam on his face.

"I have some friends I would like for you to meet," Blaise said shortly and waved his hand. Before him five children appeared, ranging from about three to fifteen. Harry inadvertently took a step forward, he knew them—they were all candidates for his orphanage.

Not that they looked it. All the children were dressed in splendor, much different from the average clothes Harry had purchased for them. Some looked uncomfortable in their clothes, and others looked as if they belonged in them.

"These children are werewolves," Blaise said shortly and Harry flinched his wand tight in his hand. Did Blaise understand what he was doing? It was not safe for them here.

"They did not choose to be werewolves, many of them were bitten Greyback who had a thing for young children. Once bitten they were abandoned by their parents, many too young to fend for themselves—" all the children looked sad. Ciel began to cry, his tears sullying the dark green robe he had on.

Harry could feel the tide change in the audience towards sympathy, and if it weren't in his favor he would have spoken up. Ciel was the most stoic child Harry had ever met. The boy rarely smiled, there was no way that he would cry in front of people simply because of Blaise's words.

"According to Ministry Regulation, werewolves cannot live in an orphanage. According to Ministry Regulation werewolves cannot be adopted, nor named the beneficiary under a non-werewolf's will. They are trying to pass bills that will leave these young witches and wizards uneducated, by banning them from attending any and all magical schools."

Becca started to cry and gestured to Blaise he cast the amplification spell on her voice.

"M-mommy 'an daddy don' want us no more! No body luv Becca and her brudder!" The tears welling in the chocolate eyes made Harry want to cry with her. Her brother moved to console her, and Blaise cast a spell on him as well.

"We're really thankful for everyone whose been helping us. Mister Potter, Miss Pansy, Miss Weasley and Mister Weasley… and now Mister Zabini. After I turned my parents abandoned me and Becca. She was only one at the time—there was no way—" Frederick turned away from the audience his face contorting in pain. "If it wasn't for Mister Potter I don't know how Becca and I would have survived."

The other children moved to surround the two to console them and the sound of tears and whispers was evident.

"I honestly feel as though everything that needs to be said, has been said." Blaise stated putting his hands on the children's back and helping them off stage. Blaise moving off the stage broke Harry and the others from their stupor. Harry turned for Pansy but she was already gone, no doubt about to ensure the children's safe return.

Harry froze as the magical counter above the podium began to spin. 'I guarantee with by backing we'll double what you made…' Blaise's voice unwittingly came back to him and Harry clenched his hands. Why did Blaise think it was okay to play with him like this? How could he be like he was—and then do what he did—and then still think it was okay to pretend he was a thoughtful person.

Harry's hands tightened. Well, he'd show Blaise that it wasn't. Within moments he was before the barrier that Blaise, Pansy and his kids went through. Harry pushed against it, expecting not to be keyed into the wards. He was surprised when he slipped right through them.

He followed a long corridor and paused when he heard voices.

"We did good Blasiey?" Becca asked cutely and Harry heard Blaise laugh.

"You all were excellent."

"Will Mister Potter be proud of us?" Another voice asked and Harry's anger melted slightly.

"You know you can call him Harry," Pansy slightly chastised. "But yes, I'm sure he'll be very happy. Now into the fire all of you, you know where your going right?"

"Dragon Shack!" A chorus of voices said. Harry could imagine Pansy nodding. Harry listened as each voice called out Dragon Shack, from youngest to oldest until finally there was Pansy and Blaise left.

"You okay?" Her voice was soft.

"I'll be fine."

There was a tense silence before Pansy spoke again. "You know I don't know right?"

"I know," Blaise whispered. Harry heard an embrace, followed by the roar of floo powder and then he and Blaise were alone.

"I know your there Harry," Blaise called and Harry started, stepping into the arrival chamber sheepishly. Blaise's back was turned and Harry couldn't remember why he came.

"That was really reckless of you!" He called out cringing as the words left his mouth. Blaise just looked back at him blandly.

"I lied," he said shortly and Harry the air in Harry's lungs went flying. "I didn't double your last fundraiser, I tripled it."

Harry stared at Blaise incredulously, anger rising steadily. Why did Blaise think it was okay to joke with him like that—knowing what he did?

"I don't get a thank you?" Blaise asked him hollowly turning to face Harry more. As he turned his image blurred and Harry frowned and took a step forward.

"You think you deserve a thank you?" He demanded hotly.

"For organizing an entire fundraiser for you? I think a thank you would be the least I deserve—yes. I bared my soul to you Potter and you—Argggh" Blaise growling in frustration.

Harry took another step towards him. Blaise sounded angry, but none of his anger showed in his face. It was as bland now as it was when Harry walked in, like a mask.

"Finite Incantatem," Harry muttered and he watched as Blaise's face melted and recoiled. Blaise looked terrible. His face was gaunt and think, his skin ashen. The bags under his eyes made Harry believe he hadn't slept in weeks.

"Blaise…" Harry whispered taking another step forward his hand outstretched.

"You can never leave well enough alone can you Potter?" Blaise snapped. The pain in his eyes took Harry's breath away. Before anything else could occur Blaise disapparated. The crack rang in Harry's ears hours after it was finished.


"What do you mean you didn't read it?" Pansy asked him dismayed and Harry laughed at her.

"I mean I didn't read it. I'm getting to know Blaise as we date—why would I ruin it by reading about him?"

"I don't know Harry…" Pansy said trailing off as she dropped a pile of papers on his desk. "Blaise went to extreme lengths to bare his soul to you. I think it's somewhat rude if you don't read it after all the work he put in."

"I disagree," Harry said evenly as he picked up the papers. "I think me reading about it is cheapening the mystery."

There was a small pause before Pansy snorted. "Cheapening the mystery? Who would have pegged you for a closet romantic Harry?" She smiled at him gently. "I'm glad that you're happy though, I really am."


May 17th

It was the alcohol. Pure Irish Whiskey combined with the ache in Harry's heart every time he thought of Blaise, made him do that which he swore he'd never do. The papers were kept in his nightstand, right next to the lube. Harry didn't know what that meant, that he kept it so close and he wasn't in the mentality to ponder it as he stumbled into his bedroom to retrieve them.

He skipped over Blaise's lengthy accomplishments, he didn't care about those.

Common Interests

I don't think we have very much in common, but at the moment we do not know each other well. I know that you are benevolent with a strong sense of duty and what's right. I admire this about you. You enjoy Quidditch, which I am shit at by the way, and I enjoy art showings and wine tastings (which are terribly cliché for the upperclassman to enjoy). We share a penchant for dueling. I've watched all of your exhibitions, from 99 to 03. Deny it all you like Harry, but you enjoy yourself, as do I. There's no other thrill like it. Well, possibly one but that thrill is discussed on another page. Either way, I'll mop the floor with you in a dueling match… and you can quote me….

There was so much information in the letters written by Blaise's hand. Blaise told quirks and nuances that in their relationship had only been hinted at to Harry explicitly. It didn't make any sense. Why would Blaise do all of this—only to turn around and stab Harry in the back?

Other Things You May Want To Know

I honestly don't know why my mother is making me write this section… or why I am obeying. This section is just 'other things you should know'…and she considers it very important. Once a woman married my uncle and he was a sadist and she was a hemophiliac… So maybe this is important. I'll just write it straight then hm? I don't bottom. I have this… thing about my masculinity. It makes me weird as a gay man having sex. For the first few times it always has to be all about my partner. I don't know why, it might be the Veela but I don't like getting my dick sucked during that time. Also, I've never bottomed and I don't like getting rimmed prefer not to be rimmed. Rimming causes me to loose control too much... and I'm not trying to say I'll never bottom because as a Veela I'll eventually have to… but… just thinking of it is difficult for me. I can't even imagine myself on top because I'm so much larger than the men I tend to date and I can't be on the bottom during sex because of my wings.

Page after page fell to floor as Harry read the things Blaise deemed pertinent for him to know. The more he read the more the anger and frustration he was feeling mounted.

Character Recommendation: Pansy Parkinson

Blaise is the most Hufflepuffish Slytherin I've ever had the pleasure of associating with. We've been together forever, but not in that way Harry so stop growling. I've watched my friend pine after you for years. He's had interest since 99 when he first saw you duel, but at that time well—none of us could approach you. I remember it clearly though because later that week we went out and the woman he brought to dinner had the same color eyes as yours.

When I got bitten and disowned, Blaise was one of the few old friends I had that didn't care—and that surprised me. I'm not supposed to know this, but I know it was Blaise that orchestrated the events that helped me meet Bill. I'm forever indebted to him for leading me to both of you Gryffindors. Even at this time while was dating around Blaise was still interested in you—maybe not romantically but you intrigued him.

The years passed and he watched you more, finally coming to me for an introduction that I refused. Veela have this thing where they cant court someone without a proper introduction by a close friend. I wasn't sure of his intentions towards you then, so I was reluctant to do so. Things happened and he never got his introduction, but he wasn't upset.

On the contrary he always did what he could to make things go smoother for you. It seems the further you faded into your work, the more he wanted you—wanted to help you. After years of this he came to me and asked me for help, and finally I agreed. Because you deserve happiness Harry, and I feel as though Blaise can give this to you. Perhaps not forever, though it wouldn't surprise me if the both of you did Choose each other—but I'm certain that your time with him will be a happy one.

Just as Harry was finishing Pansy's recommendation the chimes above his fireplace began to ring. He glanced at the clock and saw it was 7am just as Hermione's face appeared in his fire.

"I'm so sorry Harry," she breathed and Harry stiffened. The last time she said that was when she gave him the photo of Blaise and that woman. There were tears in the corner of Hermione's eyes.

"That picture was manipulated. It wasn't Blaise doing that what we thought we saw. It was him and his mother…"

He was so stupid… STUPID. Mrs. Zabini told him, she recognized the dress and the place and… he.. he…

"I'm so sorry Harry," Hermione breathed again and Harry turned away wordlessly as tears began to prickle the corners of his eyes. He fucked up. He fucked up big time. He had a man in his grasp that wanted nothing more than to make him happy and he blew it to dust. Harry swallowed a lump in this throat.

"I have to fix this Hermione," he said resolutely. "And you are going to help me."


"My favorite painter? Why do you ask?" Blaise's hand slipped into his as they resumed their walk around the gallery.

"Just curious I suppose," Harry said with a shrug that he hoped was easygoing. It was unnerving the way that Blaise took so easily to affection in public with him. Idly Harry wondered why the newspapers never reported on their romance, but he wasn't going to complain.

"Alejandro Feliz, the first wizard painter to ever prefer a still-life style. It is absolutely breathtaking the way that he captures the magic in artifacts and nature without using any magical tools. Most of his art is owned by the most haughty of purebloods who don't allow any but the best breeding in their homes."

"I take that to mean you've seen them all?" Harry asked dryly and Blaise smiled at him with a wink.

"But of course. All but one however, it's been lost. Passed down from pureblood to pureblood, stolen from one house to another—it is a painting of one of my Veela ancestors. I do not know where it is, if it is still here or Italy, it could be in America by now for all I know."

Blaise seemed to get lost in his thoughts as he spoke of his ancestors long-lost painting. Harry squeezed his hand in reassurance and received soft brown eyes in response.

"I'll find the picture one day," Blaise said as he stopped them before another painting. "I am Blaise Zabini the magnificent."


May 25th

"You Harry, are a coward."

Harry froze his ministrations, dread leaking into his stomach like ice. He'd asked Mrs. Zabini when Blaise would be back from his last trip, and she told him the 27th… it only made sense for Harry to come two days in advance to make sure she wouldn't tell Blaise.

But apparently, she thought further ahead than him.

Harry licked his lips. "I know."

"Why couldn't you just tell me?" Blaise asked and the hurt in his voice twisted the knife Harry felt in his gut.

"I don't know," Harry whispered ashamed. "From the moment I picked up the photo, I knew I could never see you again—because if I did I'd—"

"You'd what Harry?" Blaise demanded harshly walking towards him. When the light hit him Harry had to stifle a gasp. He looked better than he did the last time he saw him, but he was still not as radiant as Harry recalled.

"I don't know." Harry finished lamely turning his head away.

"We'll let's see it." Blaise demanded. "Let's see what this photo looks like that would make you feel so strongly against me. Do you even know what I've been through? I thought you'd finally read my Vitae and found me disgusting or—" Blaise cut off reaching out his hand for the photo.

As soon as Blaise touched it he frowned. "Theirs a small compulsion on this photo," he muttered and Harry flinched. He didn't even think to check the photo for compulsion, though in his defense he did get it from Hermione.


"Yeah," Blaise muttered absently and then looked at it closely. "If you would have shown it to me I would have been able to tell you it was taken Summer of 2003. My mother and I visit a small bistro in Italy occasionally and because were somewhat royalty they always photograph us." Instead of handing it back to Harry he slid it into his back pocket. They stood there in silence before Harry whispered that he was sorry, looking at the floor.

"Good, but its hard for me to stay angry at you now that I know there was a compulsion on the photo making you stay away from me. It did seem rather un-Gryffindor like. I always figured you'd storm me if I made you angry." Something in Blaise's tone made Harry look up. A softness that he recognized was back in Blaise's eyes and he breathed in relief.

"I didn't think it would be this easy for you to forgive me," Harry admitted. "Guess I'm going to save that—" he pointed his thumb behind him at the covered canvas. "For a rainy day."

"I wouldn't be easy if you hadn't fallen under compulsion, we'll have to work on that Harry," Blaise remarked as he bumped past Harry to get to the canvas. Harry didn't speak, he just angled himself so that he could watch Blaise's face.

Mocha hands snatched off the cloth and almond eyes widened.

"This isn't—" Blaise broke off his hands hovering over the portrait. "This can't be—what did you do?" He finally asked, his eyes roaming over the portrait hungrily.

"Nothing," Harry said with a shrug, moving so that he could admire the picture with Blaise. It truly was a work of art. The Veela in the photo had high cheekbones, like Blaise but her skin was a tan complexion similar to Harry's. Her eyes were a sparkling hazel and her lips the deepest red. Even though the photo didn't move, you knew that there was something special about her. That somehow, she was different from all the other women walking around her.

"Harry this portrait has been lost for centuries," Blaise stressed and Harry smiled. He was beginning to understand why Blaise did the things that he did, the feeling of accomplishment the awe inspired was like nothing he'd ever felt before. He wanted to keep it.

"I know, it would have been hard to get for anyone—but being Harry Potter doors just open." Harry shrugged and Blaise rolled his eyes.

"That's a terrible impression of me Harry," Blaise stated and Harry chuckled. Blaise shifted so they were facing each other and Harry's eyes widened.

"Thank you Harry," Blaise stressed.

Harry smiled softly, taking Blaise's hand in his. "You're welcome."

There was moment where neither of them knew what to do. Blaise hesitated before cupping Harry's cheek for a gentle kiss.

"I missed you," Harry breathed against Blaise's lips and the full lips quirked.

"That's my line." He said softly as they pulled into another kiss.

Though the kiss began tender in mere moments their movements became frantic. Blaise's hands roamed all over Harry's body seeking reassurance that Harry was whole and before him. Blaise's cock pressed insistently against Harry and he moaned into the kiss before Blaise broke them apart suddenly.

"No wait," he muttered his hands on Harry's shoulders. Harry ignored him in favor of nibbling on his neck. "Harry stop!" Blaise sounded frantic and Harry pulled away confused.

"We're too close to the picture," Blaise finished feebly and Harry laughed.

He took a step forward wrapping his arms around Blaise's neck and muttered. "So move us then."

Blaise didn't even hesitate before Apparating them to his bedroom. Once there he began to throw off his clothes. Harry watched him stunned each time more skin was removed. Blaise was glowing again, the world around him seeming hazy.

Blaise paused unbuttoning is pants and looked back up at Harry.

"Why are you still fully clothed?" He demanded and Harry whimpered. "Get naked."

That command was the only one Harry needed. He removed himself of his clothes with no finesse, but a speed that got him naked before Blaise.

"You're slow," Harry taunted his eyes feverish and Blaise frowned. He snapped his fingers and suddenly he stopped glowing.

Harry shook his head as Blaise moved forward for another kiss that led them into the bed.

"I'm going to turn it on now okay?" Blaise asked him. "This time because it'll be controlled, you shouldn't black out…" Blaise trailed off groaning as Harry arched himself to grind his cock into the other mans firm abdomen.

The heat started there. It began painfully almost a prickling sensation before evening out. Harry gasp as the tingles began easing down his cock, only to slide over to the rest of his body.

Blaise just held him as Harry began to pant. It was impossible to describe the feelings of the concentrated allure. He felt as if he'd been dropped into a volcano with only his barest instincts. Harry whined pitifully as Blaise pulled away.

"Harry, you can come back from this." Blaise's voice sounded so far away. Harry gasped as his own hands began to tweak and pull at his nipples. He could come from this, he realized as his middle began to tremble. Every touch sent ice down his spine and fire up his cock.

"Harry, if you don't come back to me you'll won't get this."

Blaise's cock in Harry's hand made it difficult to breath.

"That's what you want right? You feel it don't you Harry."

Harry's stroking made Blaise end in a grown that washed Harry's body in desire.

"I don't want to come in your hand Harry." The timbre of Blaise's voice made Harry's body tingle. "Come back Harry, focus on my voice," Harry whined tossing his flushed head back and forth but focused on Blaise's voice nonetheless. The heat in the room quelled to manageable levels. Blaise became more than a brown blur.

Harry blinked in surprise before looking down at the cock in his hand with wide eyes. Blaise did nothing to dispel black stereotypes in that area, he about an inch longer than average and about two inches thick. Slowly, Harry stroked and Blaise's knees buckled. It was brown at the base with a bright pink head.

Harry wanted to lick it.

"You may not know it, but you've had your hand on my cock for a good twenty minutes," Blaise whispered to him. "If you suck me I won't last."

Harry licked his lips. "I'm okay with that."

A beat. "I'm not."

There was something in Blaise's eyes, something that despite the steady pulse of Veela allure made Harry remember his Vitae.

I have this…thing about my masculinity… the first few times it always has to be about my partner…

"Okay," Harry acquiesced and he could feel Blaise's eyes brighten.

"Hands and knees." Blaise commanded and Harry obeyed, spreading his cheeks and pressing his face into Blaise's black sheets. The first lick was tentative, it made Harry squirm. The second lick was slower and filthier, Harry whined suppressing the urge to rotate his hips and widened his stance a little further. Blaise's lubed hand grabbed at his cock as a tentative tongue pressed at entrance.

The double sensation would make Harry go mad. When Blaise added a finger he almost sobbed with relief. With every lick a shudder would run through his body and every pull made him curve his spine. His body was blazing, trembling and he was panting. The second finger made him bellow as he began to fuck himself on Blaise's fingers and tongue.

"Fuck, Blaise—I need more! Ungh—I—" Harry broke off as Blaise fed him more of his allure increasing his fervor.

When Blaise touched his prostate Harry thought his back was going to break he arched so hard. Harry was babbling, sensation overloading him almost to tears. His cock was flushed and leaking but he'd never come at the slow stroking pace Blaise had set.

"Fuck me—fuck me—please!" Harry whined as he ground his cheeks into Blaise face. When Blaise pulled out his tongue and fingers a moment later Harry didn't have the power to protest.

It wasn't until he felt an oiled head at his entrance that his mind caught up with its surroundings. When Blaise eased his head in both men sighed in relief. Harry had never felt so full before. It burned despite the allure, but Harry was thankful for it—it kept him grounded.

As Blaise began to push in he tensed, and the larger man paused to caress Harry's back.

"You want more allure?" He asked softly and Harry shook his head negative.

"Wanna feel you," he panted. "Just—gimme a sec—"

Harry's body relaxed around the intrusion and Blaise began slowly pushing in again. When he was half way in he pulled out and began to shallowly fuck Harry.

"Yes," Harry hissed as the burn began to fade. Once Harry got used to the shallow thrusts he began to push back asking Blaise for more, and receiving more in response. Even without the allure Harry knew that Blaise was an amazing lover, hitting his prostate every three strokes purposefully.

Just when Harry could feel the tension mounting in Blaise's thighs they stopped and switched positions so that Harry was lying on his back, legs wide. It was in this position that Harry got everything Blaise had to give. Their fucking turned to love making as hands roamed everywhere and lips kissed frantically.

When they did come it was together. Blaise's thighs were trembling and Harry had long lost his coherence. Blaise through his head back and bellowed, white wings erupting from his shoulders. The sight spurred Harry's own orgasm as Blaise ground his cock into his prostate.

Blaise collapsed on top of him and Harry just caressed his back.

"I'll move soon, I know I'm heavy," Blaise mumbled into his ear and Harry laughed.

"You can't sleep with your wings, when will they go away?"

"Dunno," Blaise said sleepily and Harry shook his head.

"Sleep this way then, I'm fine."

Harry's voice left no room for argument, not that Blaise could have protested. Smiling as he brushed his lovers dredlocks to one side Harry planted a small kiss on Blaise's neck. He hoped Blaise felt the same, because Harry made his choice.


Spring 1999

"You do know that should be you right," Pansy said to him as they watched Potter and Draco square off for the duel. Blaise shrugged. While he was curious about putting his skills against Potter's, he also did not want the school or Ministry aware of his talents.

Draco would do. He was certainly good at dueling, but not for the thrill of it. He'd learned for survival and Blaise had learned for leisure. It was something to do when he visited all of his lesser cousins on the other side of his family.

Somehow Potter and Draco had circled each other, and Blaise got his first good look at Potter since the final battle. He inhaled sharply. He'd never seen eyes so green. There was a snarl on Potter's lips that appealed to him, it sent a thrill coursing through his body.

Immediately he felt his mind categorize Potter as a possible choice. His eyes were blazing as he dueled Draco, and it wasn't anger. It was passion. Potter lived dangerously when he dueled, slowing his reflexes on purpose to throw his opponent off guard.

When Draco loss there was no surprise. What was surprising however, was Potter giving Draco a hand up after the spell that ended the battle knocked him down. Blaise walked over to them quickly, only managing to catch the end of the conversation.

"What do you mean second best?" Potter demanded hotly and Blaise chuckled. The sound made both men look up at him. The fervor in Potter's eyes almost made him take a step back. Draco looked at him curiously, before smirking.

"Draco's too modest," Blaise insisted with an easygoing smile. It put most people at ease, but it seemed Potter was put-off by his ease.

"Hm, yes well," Potter turned back to Draco. "If ever this dueler that's better than you wants to get his arse thrashed, tell him to issue me a challenge."

Blaise stiffened, offended that Potter turned his back on him to talk to Draco of all people—his rival! As Potter walked off the Draco laughed loudly, clapping Blaise on the back.

"You're just not on Potter's radar."

"Took you eight years to get where you are," Blaise snapped back, Draco's laughter adding to his ire.

"This is true," Draco agreed. "Seven long years of antagonism and one year of rebuilding Hogwarts together."

"You like him?" Blaise didn't know where the question came from and when Draco raised an eyebrow at him he turned away.

"No, not in the way that you do." Draco eventually said as they walked back over to Pansy.

"I don't like him any particular way," Blaise snapped and Draco shook his head.

"I'm more Veela than you yeah? I felt it the moment your choice attached to him because of the strong bond he and I share—and it's not a choice bond. Potter ceased being one of my choices our sixth year."

Blaise was curious, but he wouldn't ask. Potter was walking by again, and Blaise had the urge to do something reckless. He was about to wave his hand with the Zabini signet ring on it when Draco stopped him.

"That's not the way to do it," his best friend said shortly and Blaise glared.

"Are both of you going to fight over Potter now?" Pansy asked huffily and Blaise turned his glare to her. As if he would fight over a four-eyed-Gryffindor. He was sure he'd forget all about Potter in a few days.

Authors Notes: I write better than this now, lol. But here it is! I should rewrite it—but it's just too long. Sorry. Hope you enjoyed it for what it is!