firewhisky on ice, sunset and vine
you’ve ruined my life by not being mine
Chapter 5— previous chapter — next chapter
Harry Potter fics Masterlist
He looked absolutely dashing, that much he was positive of. He and his date matched and looked powerful, and Hogwarts was, once again, his oyster fully.
Melissa was very easy to convince: she was the only seventh year Ravenclaw that took Potions that hadn’t been invited to the party, due to her aunt being affiliated with Death Eaters in the past, and therefore jumped at the opportunity to show up, even as a plus one. The conversations they had had so far were interesting and polite, but he knew she favoured girls in secret and she knew he preferred boys, even if said boys happened to be dorky and lanky Gryffindor idiots.
Overall, their evening was going to be incredibly fine. Everyone would envy them and everyone should, after all.
Arriving perfectly five minutes after than the invite said, late enough to be noticed but early enough not to make a classic ‘figura ‘i mmerda’, as his Grandfather said, while people began mingling and flooding the room.
It was astonishing: only the true elite had been selected to attend, everyone bringing their escorts to this high society and granting a night of class entertainment to those less fortunate and talented; Slughorn had equipped waiters and had also decorated finely the room to grant the event even more luxury. Even the Weird Sisters were playing!
Without a shadow of a doubt, Horace Slughorn was a brilliant wizard who managed to raise up to the Slytherin House for positive reasons, without giving it a bad reputation, and Blaise was immensely grateful for it and fascinated by him.
His eyes scanned the room as he entered with his arm liked to his escort: he could see Pansy drape herself over a seventh year Hufflepuff as if she was a curtain, showing off her curves in the tight emerald dress that was scandalously cut in the back. She had always had a talent regarding clothing, was perfectly able to conjure a piece that somehow looked both classy and trashy, granting great emphasis of her abilities as a zoccola. Granger was accompanied by McLaggen, for reasons fathomless to him: despite being a Muggle-born, Granger was a rather talented witch that would’ve been perfect as a Slytherin, way more than a few of his housemates, and McLaggen was a spoiled brat who was used to people blowing his nose whenever he needed to sneeze, duller than a bezoar and far less interesting that a hoo-hoo.
Saint Potter was there as well, accompanied by Loony Lovegood, who looked positively adorable in her brightly coloured dress. Blaise made a mental note to compliment her on the choice, while pointedly ignoring Saint Potter, who was getting way too much attention for anyone’s sanity. Professor Slughorn was clinging at his arm as if his life depended on it, introducing him proudly to his guest and parading him off as a trophy.
Surely that was not the way Potter wanted his night to go, considering he had a tendency to shy away from the spotlight, yet Blaise could perfectly understand the Potions Professor tactic: he was, after all, the Saviour of the Wizarding World, a hero despite his lack of action during the first war, and Slughorn was a collector above all; while others scouted for antiquities or paintings, he assorted powerful and talented individuals to his own little society and to his own gain.
Blaise desperately wanted to be like that man.
Turning to his date, they untangled from each other and began moving towards the room, both looking for their own personal goals and opportunities with the many powerful guests that mingled in the room.
***
He was in the middle of a semi-heated conversation with the vampire Sanguini when he saw him.
They were discussing about the cultural and ethical differences of obtaining blood from willing people, offering out of their own mind, versus the toxic complex of a master with his drudge. Blaise knew he would have a hard time explaining his point and standing his ground, yet he was compelled to speak up at a particular comment the vampire had made earlier in their conversation. Previous topics were soon discarded, as Sanguini pointed out also the hypocrisy of the wizarding community, shunning vampires for their ‘loyal subjects’ while also keeping house elves and breeding them with the sole purpose of serving. Blaise agreed on the topic in particular and was about to find and fetch Granger to have her join the conversation, considering her past attempt at house elves’ freedom with her short lived and not very popular S.P.E.W., until a swift movement of a serving dish caught Blaise’s eye.
“You’ve got to be kidding me” he thought as he followed the silvery trail and saw the waiter. Astonishingly, the simple tight cut pair of black dress pants did wonders for the already pretty shaped behind, while the white jacked clung perfectly to his shoulders as if it was sown on.
How had he missed the tall and bulky figure this whole time? Blaise was petrified, his eyes blown wide as he regarded Longbottom backside with all the reverence that it deserved. His hair was slicked back and tamed, and he already itched to run his fingers throw it to ensure the suspected softness of the strands. “Someone like that must have nice hair” he thought, trying to return back into the conversation, yet failing to look away as Longbottom continued to offer little appetizers to Slughorn’s guests.
“Ah, I see” said the vampire in a thick accent, breaking him out of his stupor and bringing him back to reality. Blaise focused his attention back to him, expecting his point to have finally reached his brain and getting back an infuriating smirk from Sanguini, who know looked at Blaise as if he knew all of his secrets. “What exactly do you see?” he fired back immediately, maintaining a polite smile while planning to stab the vampire with his wand. It would probably be messy but immensely worth it.
Sanguini licked his lips, fangs glistening as his eyes scanned the room for Eldred Worple, finding the short man once again crowding Saint Potter about a biography. No matter how discomforted the Gryffindor looked, the author simply didn’t seem to understand that it was about time to let it drop. “You are in a position I am familiar with” said the vampire, looking back to Blaise with piercing dark eyes.
“I have absolutely no idea of what you’re speaking of” stated the Slytherin, trying to maintain a casual stance and looking for his date to escape the situation. “It is okay” continued Sanguini, dragging the syllables, “I won’t tell. I understand that in your society it is not something to be shared, ja?”
Blaise was speechless. He had never had actual confirmation from anyone like him, all there ever was, was speculation. Especially with dark times coming, it wasn’t safe. He himself had not told anyone, with the exception of his mother, even if he was positive about his preferences, and didn’t really plan of anyone finding out, despite trying to pursuit a dumbass Gryffindor, but clearly missing his target.
“Does that mean that you and Eldred…?” he asked timidly, not daring to finish his sentence in case someone might overheard them. He did not know the man personally, but he didn’t want to put him into a bad position. “The higher you are, the harder you fall” he reminded himself.
The vampire smiled then, “Yes. Why else would he bring me as his plus one? For my conversation skills?” he confirmed as his partner approached with an equally soft smile on his lips. “Sanguini, come with me, I want to introduce you to someone” said Eldred, taking his arm and dragging him away, practically ignoring Blaise.
He was left alone, in the middle of the room, with no one to talk to while he processed what had just happened. Without realizing it, he moved towards the loos, thankful about their emptiness as he splashed water on his face. It had been both scary as hell and extremely uplifting. While there were no wizarding laws that vetoed one’s choices, the majority of the wizarding population wasn’t exactly tolerant, when it came to homosexuality and diversity.
Professor Lupin had been a great example: despite being the second most competent teacher in Blaise’s entire school career, “They should Knight Professor McGonagall, that woman is the best thing in this universe!”, he was ostracized and casted away as soon as his condition had been publicized by Snape. The vain bastard ruined a man’s life just cause he was different and harmless, because he had personal beef with him and wanted his position, which he still wasn’t entirely qualified for, as the recent DADA lessons taught him.
Blaise also thought that Professor Lupin wasn’t exactly straight either, but had no confirmations nor any means to contact said professor to ask for advice. He would simply have to figure out on his own what to do, which was a thing he was excellent at.
Suddenly, the door opened and there was a quite concerned Longbottom, in all his black and white glory, hands wrapped in gloves and an empty trail on his hands. “Is everything alright?” he asked quietly, closing the door behind his back and walking towards Blaise, “I saw you all but run here and thought I’d check on you.” He looked sheepish and almost embarrassed, so at sort with the student who worked hard during their sessions together and the idiot that made his blood boil constantly with his witty remarks as soon as books were discarded for the day.
Blaise gave him a timid smile, quick and painless, “Thanks, but I’m actually fine” he claimed, drying up his hands and face on a nearby towel to avoid staring at Longbottom’s worried expression for too long. The Gryffindor then huffed out a laugh and said “Great, wouldn’t want my tutor to fall sick!” Blaise shook his head at that: they would both go home for the holidays, therefore he wouldn’t be tutored nor tutoring, but he was still touched by the Gryffindor’s concern and hoped he couldn’t see the blush spreading on his cheeks.
After a few moments of silence, Longbottom began to wordlessly walk back to the room, but Blaise refused to let me opportunity to hear another one of his sarcastic comebacks. “You’re going to practise during the holidays?” he blurted, cringing internally at the pace his words left his mouth, but it was already too late.
Longbottom turned around, nodding with a serious expression on: “What else am I supposed to do? Hang around my uncle that threw me out of a window to check if I had magic?” Blaise shook his head, all but understanding the older generation fear of having a squib in their family and the lengths one might have gone to instigate a magical reaction. Yet, that was an inhumane treatment that deserved to be punished.
“What about you?” the Gryffindor asked, a sparkle in his eyes that wasn’t there a moment before. “I’m going to France with my mother, to visit her side of the family” he replied, purposefully avoiding to mention that his mother wanted to know everything about the boy standing in front of him, about the one that had managed to snatch his full attention, “Doubt I’m gonna study herbology of all things, if that’s what you’re wondering” he then added with a smirk, challenging and cocky.
“I take that as a personal offence, you know?” Longbottom declared, placing a gloved hand over his sternum and mocking indignation. Then he added, in an afterthought: “Oh, before I forget. I practiced something” he said with a proud expression of his face. Blaise raised a scrutinizing eyebrow, folding his arms and leaning against the sink. “Please don’t say kissing cause I might break any minute now.”
The Gryffindor was now slowly walking closer to Blaise, sending his heart into a frenzy and making his head spin as fast as lightning. “Close your eyes” he whispered when they were close enough to touch, and Blaise might’ve fainted, were it not for his practiced façade keeping him together while his insides combusted. Unwillingly to appear vulnerable, yet incredibly intrigued, he did as he was told, part of him hoping and part of him dreading the course of action their conversation had taken.
He could feel Longbottom’s breath on his cheek and was about to lean in, but suddenly a bright white light exploded behind his eyelids, the warm air then disappeared and a voice whispered at him to open his eyes. The sight was disappointing to say the least: Longbottom was now several centimetres away, looking at him while nervously worrying his lip, and Blaise’s breath was taken from his lungs abruptly. “Well go on, see for yourself” said the Gryffindor, seeming more eager than ever.
He turned around, to face the mirror and examine what had supposedly happened, when he saw it: part of his perfectly groomed right eyebrow had been turned a very dark blue, almost blending into his natural colour effortlessly while still being able to be picked apart. Blaise moved to face Longbottom then, a disbelieving expression and a hundred questions on his mind.
“I practiced Crinus Muto wordlessly the entire day on Seamus, he now has ten different colours on his head!” He then laughed, a bright sound that Blaise wanted to imprint and store in his memory for when he might have needed it. “I thought this was a good way as any to let you know that I’m taking your help seriously” he added sheepishly, somehow finding fascinating the point of his shoes. Blaise had never more desperately wanted to kiss someone in his entire life.
“Well, gotta get back now. Happy holidays” he said quickly, fleeting the bathroom and leaving Blaise once alone. He dumbly stared at his own reflection in the mirror, wondering if he should fix it with a quick spell, but deciding against it. All his insides were warm, and not in a bad way.
With one last look, he then exited himself, founding immediately his date, standing alone near the loos and nervously biting her nails.
“That is an incredibly rude gesture” he told her, approaching fast and maintaining an aria of superiority.
“Where were you?” she pointedly asked, ignoring his comment, “Your idiot housemate tried to sneak in and I had totally lost you!”
He was puzzled, it wasn’t like Nott to crash a party and he knew for a fact that he had planned on getting pissed with Crabble and Goyle. “Sorry, had to powder my nose. Who was the idiot?” he hastily asked, wondering whether or not the alcohol had had its best over Theodore.
She simply waved a hand dismissively, “Malfoy, Snape dragged him away” she informed him as it was not an important news.
Blaise was going to slowly torture him and cut him into such tiny pieces that it would’ve been impossible for any magic to repair him. Then he would have sent the remains to the Dark Lord himself, with a note attached, warning him that if Slytherin lost the House Cup because of him, Blaise himself would have killed the evil wizard.
Slowly breathing in, he let himself calm down, making a mental note to later beat Draco Malfoy into a bloody pulp. “Very well, Darling. Shall we continue?” he asked, offering once more his arm to her, which she gladly took.
“What happened to your eyebrow?” she wondered loudly as they moved to the sneak table. He then smiled, trying to catch a glimpse of the Gryffindor dork that had his heartbeat as fast as if was competing in a race.
“Just a little reminder for later, nothing you should care about.”
**Headcanon that the Vampire Sanguini and the writer Eldred Worple are dating!**
GLOSSARY:
"Figura 'i mmerda" is southern Italian for "making an ass of oneself in a situation""Zoccola" is literally the female rat but is used to describe 'easy' women and such. It is also used as a term of endearment, as the usual bitch
