Fantasy

Blaise has spent the last ten minutes jerking off in the shower, trying and failing to get that little fantasy out of his head. As he comes with a groan, he leans back against the cold tile walls, shutting his eyes and berating himself.

If he keeps having daydreams like this, someone is bound to catch on. Sure, this time it happened in the darkness of his corner, but what if it happens in class one day? Blaise is sure that someone would notice.

He doesn’t know why he can’t get Hermione out of his head. It’s not like she’s special at all. He knows Draco doesn’t like her, but Draco doesn’t like anyone. He tries not to listen to Draco, anyway. His judgment of people isn’t always the best.

With a heavy sigh, Blaise shuts off the water and steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel firmly around his waist. Water drips from his hair and into his face. He shakes it off and changes into new clothes.

He sits down on his bed, wrenching the hangings shut. He doesn’t want Crabbe or Goyle or any other idiot to talk to him. He has to find a way to stop this.

He doesn’t know when it started. Sometime after the war, he thinks. All he remembers is seeing Hermione one day and thinking she would look hot on her knees, sucking him off. When he thinks back on that, he finds it vulgar, but still somewhat appealing.

Even though House relations have improved since the end of the war, he knows it’s impossible to even think about really doing what he wants with her. The Slytherins would think it horrible and terribly disrespectful to the House. He doesn’t really care about House loyalty. His only loyalty is to himself.

The problem is that she is a Gryffindor, and he knows if he did anything with her, both of their Houses would go insane. Potter and Weasley would try to curse him, no doubt, though if they would be successful was another story. He is smarter than the average Gryffindor by far.

He doubts very much, however, if Potter or Weasley even know he exists. Their energy seems to always focus on Draco. This is fine by him. The less he has to deal with them, the better. Draco is always interested in picking a fight with them.

He wonders why Hermione bothers hanging around with them. This is perhaps why she never has boyfriends. He knows she sort of dated that Quidditch player a few years ago, but Weasley had put a stop to that.

He bets she’s still a virgin, a sweet, virginal Gryffindor. This does nothing to help his imagination. He rolls his eyes and lies down on his bed, trying to ignore the thoughts that are forming in his head.

He has decided that his imagination is much too active for his own good and must put a stop to it. He knows he could find a slutty Slytherin girl, all too willing to do whatever he wants. The problem is that he doesn’t want a slutty Slytherin girl. He wants the sweet, untouchable Gryffindor.

He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. He can’t tell anyone about his sordid fantasies. Some would laugh, some would be horrified, and some would tell other people.

He keeps them to himself and replays them late at night, imagining what it might be like if it was real; if she might come sneaking into his dorm some night with dirty thoughts in her mind, ready to give herself to him completely. He wonders if she would really be that compliant. He doubts it. She’s always seemed so upright and perfect. He doubts she would want to be treated like he’d like to some days.

He thinks she would want respect. He thinks she would want to be treated as an equal rather than some slutty girl he picked up off the streets. He thinks she deserves respect, but his fantasies don’t care. They put her in all sorts of situations he doubts she would like.

It doesn’t matter, though, he tells himself. These are all unrealistic visions. They will never come true so there’s no need to worry.

He sits up suddenly, an idea forming in his head. If his mind wants to make all sorts of dirty fantasies about her, perhaps if he carried them out, it would be done, get her out of his system once and for all. He isn’t sure it will work, but it sounds a hell of a lot better than dreaming about her every night, waking up with a straining hard-on.

He tears open his hangings, standing up quickly and checking himself in the mirror. He thinks he looks decent in a pair of Muggle jeans and a tight shirt. After sweeping his hair back to look devilishly handsome, he sets out to find Hermione, to finish this once and for all.

**

Hermione is reading her book, but her mind is somewhere else. She saw Blaise leave a few moments ago, followed closely by Pansy. She knows Pansy just arrived, though, so he couldn’t possibly have been doing anything with her.

She knows Blaise sits in the dark corner across the room. She usually can’t tell when he’s there and when he’s not. It’s always too dark to see in. She doesn’t try to see in, though, because then he might know she is looking.

Hermione is not as oblivious as most people think. She knows she hangs out with Ron and Harry a bit more than is necessary now that the war is over. She realizes that there is no chance of her and Ron having a relationship. He’s much too childish and not her type anyway.

She overhears Lavender and Parvati talking about her sometimes, saying that they think she needs a boyfriend, and maybe she’s a lesbian. She laughs when she hears this. She’s not a lesbian, no matter what they say.

She would date if there was anyone worthwhile in the school. She’s never seen anyone, however. She admits to having a small crush on Michael Corner, but knows she can’t date him because of Ginny.

Her “relationship” with Viktor Krum fell away when she found out he was gay and in a relationship with someone on his team. She hadn’t been too disappointed. She never sees him anyway.

Harry and Ron are very protective of her. She thinks that even if she tried to date, the guy would get scared because of them. She wishes sometimes that they would leave her alone.

She closes her book and stares at the dark corner in which Blaise usually sits. She wonders why he finds it necessary to stare at her so much. She isn’t interesting, and she imagines he can’t find her attractive. He can have anyone he wants, why would he want her?

She dismisses that thought. It doesn’t really matter why Blaise stares at her. It only bothers her because it makes it difficult to concentrate when someone is staring at you. She’s been having troubles doing her work ever since she noticed this.

She’s considered changing tables and working somewhere else, but something tells her it wouldn’t help. He would find some other way. Instead, she’s tried to ignore it, but it’s grown increasingly obvious as time goes on. She wonders if other people have noticed.

In a way, she finds it flattering, although she’s not entirely sure why. She doesn’t know why he does it, and that may well be a big factor. She tries not to think of reasons for fear of finding a believable one.

She glances at the clock and notices that it’s nearly five in the afternoon. Outside, the sky is dark and rain pours from the clouds. She likes rain, even though most would consider it a bad omen. She watches the rain spatter the windows for a moment before deciding that she ought to go back to the common room and put away her school things before dinner.

She likes going to the library. When she’s in the library, she knows Harry and Ron won’t follow. She likes getting away for a little while, if only for an hour or two.

She packs away her books and returns the few she doesn’t need. As she slips the last back into the shelf, she gets an odd feeling that she’s being watched. She slides the book fully into place and steps back slowly, looking around her. She can’t see anyone. She shakes away the feeling and returns to her table, picking up her bag and leaving the library.

She turns to the left, intending to go to Gryffindor Tower. After a few steps, she gets the same feeling of being watched. She frowns and hoists her bag higher and it catches on her skirt for a second. She tugs the fabric back down and continues on her way, her pace a little increased.

She turns a corner, almost to the secret passageway that will take her upstairs, bypassing the main staircase. She pushes back the tapestry, pausing and looking around her first. She still can’t see anyone, so she tries to let it go.

She shakes her head to herself and lets the tapestry fall back into place behind her.

She’s making a list of all the things she has for homework in her head as she walks down the corridor when she’s suddenly pushed back against a wall, a tall, warm body pressing against her.

She doesn’t have time to exclaim as a pair of warm, moist lips are on her own. Two hands are around her neck, pulling her into the kiss. She knows she should be fighting this, but the tongue in her mouth makes her consider otherwise.

She shakes herself out of it, though, and uses her hands to push away her attacker. He stumbles back a pace, looking winded.

“What the hell are you—Zabini?” She stops in her anger and stares at the boy before her.

He’s staring at her with lust in his dark eyes. His breathing is a little harder than normal but he looks composed otherwise. He takes a step forward, coming back as close as he was before.

Hermione wishes she could back up, but her back is against the wall. She’s surprised to find Blaise here, kissing her. “Zabini, what are you doing?” she repeats.

Blaise doesn’t answer right away, running a hand over her shoulder and down her arm. He feels her shiver, but he’s not sure if it’s from his touch or the drafty corridor. His eyes are glued to her lips that he just tasted mere minutes ago.

It was better than he’d imagined. Her lips had been soft and warm, and her skin so touchable. He’d been disappointed when she had pushed him away so quickly. He wants more.

He realizes she’s speaking and moves his gaze up to her eyes. They look angry and confused. He doesn’t care. All he wants to do is get her out of his head.

“Zabini,” Hermione says again, waiting for an answer. She notices he seems preoccupied with her mouth. She knows he’s touching her and she doesn’t know what to think. She hasn’t been touched like this for a very long time. She shivers as his hand slides down her arm softly.

She blinks and stares at him determinedly. There’s no way she’s going to let him get away with this without some sort of explanation.

She’s taken by surprise again as he kisses her again, crashing his lips down on hers. In her shock, she opens her mouth, only to have it invaded by his talented tongue. His hand is on her arm, gripping it tightly. She can feel herself responding to the kiss, even though she knows it’s wrong.

Blaise can feel her reluctance, but it doesn’t bother him. He wants to taste her, feel her, finish this. He can’t stand thinking about her all the time anymore. He wants her out of his head.

His lips slide against hers, his tongue, hot and wet, running over her tongue. His teeth pull on her lower lip. He feels her giving in, submitting to his touch. He can tell she’s almost out of breath, but that doesn’t stop him. He never wants to stop kissing her. God, he’s wanted this for so long.

Hermione is still in shock and can’t believe she’s letting this happen. She barely knows him! Even though it feels amazing, she knows she has to stop it. She works her hands in between their bodies again and shoves him away, ripping his mouth from hers.

“Zabini!” she exclaims, glaring at him in the dark corridor. She wonders what has possessed him to do this. She struggles to regain her breath, but loses none of her anger. “What the hell are you doing?!”

Blaise doesn’t appear to be listening. He’s back in front of her again and Hermione is cursing herself for not leaving when she had the chance. “My name is Blaise,” he says quietly, his eyes on hers.

“What?” she asks, growing confused.

“Say it,” he growls. His hand is on her waist and she can feel an unfamiliar feeling of butterflies in her stomach.

“B-Blaise,” she stutters, not understanding why he’s telling her this and why it’s important.

Suddenly, she’s pulled against him. She can feel the muscles of his stomach against hers and her eyes widen as she feels something else. Her hands are on his chest, as if ready to push him away again.

She stares up at him, feeling scared, and uneasy, and yet somehow, feeling a thrill run through her body. She feels him pushing her back against the wall, his body never losing contact.

Blaise is in heaven. He’s hard and thinks Hermione knows it. He doesn’t care. All he can feel is her shorter, smaller body pressed against his. She feels so warm and perfect there. Her breasts are pressed against his chest and he thinks that this is better than all his fantasies.

He knows she’s nervous and a small part of him feels bad for not explaining this to her. She can’t know, though, or he would have to admit more than he even knows.

One hand is on her waist and the other sliding up her body, over her arm, and up her neck. He feels her skin against his hand and knows it’s the softest skin he’s ever felt. He wonders how she keeps it so soft.

He can see the question in her eyes, but doesn’t want to answer it. Instead, he slides his hand into her thick hair, thinking that it feels so much better than in his fantasies. He tilts her head back and presses a kiss to her neck.

He doesn’t hear anything; no pleas for release, but no encouragement either. He knows she’s probably confused. He would be too if it was the other way around.

His mouth travels slowly up her neck and over her throat. He flicks his tongue over the skin on her jaw before pressing a kiss to it and continuing upward. He feels her hands sliding off his chest. One is going upward to his neck and the other sliding down to his waist.

He can hear her breathing in his ear and knows he’s having some kind of an effect. It’s harder than normal, though she’s trying to keep it even. The result is broken gasps.

His other hand has slid around her back and under her shirt. Her back is soft and smooth just like he imagined. He wonders what it would be like to kiss it, lick it.

He licks her bottom lip carefully before kissing her. He wants to savor this, to make it so good that his mind will be satisfied and he can go back to the usual fantasies of random girls to jerk off to.

His tongue slips inside her mouth, and this time, she accepts it. Her hand is on the back of his neck, massaging the skin as he kisses her, his tongue delving into her mouth.

She can’t help herself and lets out a muffled moan. She feels his grip tighten in her hair and thinks that she shouldn’t be doing this. Her brain refuses to listen, though, as she kisses him back with the same intensity.

His hand on her back has pushed her closer and she can feel his obvious erection rubbing against her thigh. She can feel her body growing hot as he rubs against her and knows she has to stop this before it gets too far.

She breaks the kiss breathlessly, panting against his lips as he tries to keep kissing her. “Blaise,” she says in between kisses. “Blaise.” She knows he’s not listening, and she can barely keep herself grounded, but she knows she’s not ready for this. Not yet. “Blaise,” she says again, more urgently. She feels him stop, if only for a moment. “I—I can’t do this,” she says breathlessly.

She sees him staring at her for a second. He’s panting and so hard. He leans back in, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. “I—I know,” he pants. “But, God, I need this.” Then he’s kissing her again and she wonders if he heard a word she said.

Her moan is muffled in his mouth and she feels his hand moving from her back to her thigh, sliding under her skirt. He grabs her thigh and lifts her up with surprising strength. She knows she ought to stop this, but can’t find the strength. She feels so hot and he feels so good against her.

Their mouths are locked and tongues slide together seductively. Fuck, Blaise thinks. If he’d known it would be this good, he wouldn’t have waited and tried to get her out of his head on his own.

Her leg is wrapped around his waist as he ruts against her. He needs to come badly. His hand is still on her thigh, holding her up and keeping her from falling.

Hermione’s brain is trying to comprehend what’s going on. Part of it is screaming at her to stop this. The other half is yelling that if she stops it, she’s insane. She doesn’t know what to listen to.

She feels hot and wet, and doesn’t know what to do. His cock is rubbing against her body and she feels so hot. He’s still kissing her, his tongue sliding into her mouth, his mouth sucking on her bottom lip. His hand is in her hair, tugging it lightly.

He’s thrusting his body against her. He can’t help it and he’s too far gone to care. He knows this is a mistake but it’s too late.

Hermione pulls away from the kiss for a second, desperately needing air. She tries to think straight as she gasps for breath. She’s trying to focus but it’s hard as she feels Blaise’s lips on her neck, licking and sucking at her pulsing point.

She’s never done anything like this before. She feels completely unprepared. Even though it’s not technically sex, she feels like it is. But despite all this, she still feels like she wants it. She’s never felt like this before, like she’s wanted, needed.

“B-Blaise,” she gasps, making another futile attempt to stop it before they do something they regret.

“God, Hermione,” Blaise mumbles against her neck and she feels herself slipping again. His voice sends shivers through her body, running down her spine.

His grip tightens on her thigh and he’s coming. His hips keep moving against Hermione’s as he comes. He can feel his body convulsing with his climax. Moments later, he’s breathing hard and leaning against her. He’s lowered her thigh and she’s attempting to stand, but her legs feel like jello.

Her body is trembling and she feels confused. One hand is still around his neck and the other hanging useless at her side. She feels like she’s just run a marathon and can barely breathe. She doesn’t understand.

Blaise’s eyes are closed as he tries to gather himself. It was better than he’d ever imagined. He can’t believe he waited so long.

It takes him a moment for him to be able to think straight, and he realizes. He realizes that he was wrong and he’s just doomed himself. He takes a step back, cleaning himself up quickly with his wand, and looks up at Hermione, who looks winded and confused. Her hair is messier than usual and her cheeks are pink.

He can see the confusion in her eyes, the fear. He hates himself for causing that. He should have known better. He doesn’t know where he comes up with these ideas sometimes.

Her body is coming back under control, and Hermione attempts to understand what happened. Blaise is standing in front of her and she gets the feeling he wants to leave.

“Blaise,” she says slowly, “what just happened?”

Blaise closes his eyes for a second. He had known this was coming.

“You’re too nosy for your own good, Granger,” he says, and her mouth drops open.

“Excuse me?” she asks in disbelief. She can’t believe he would say that after what they just did together. It is not a sufficient answer.

Blaise just shrugs, his face betraying no emotions. He knows it’s too late to take it back and pretend it didn’t happen.

Hermione gapes at him for a second before her anger from before comes rushing back. “I can’t believe you!” she exclaims, throwing her hands in the air. “You’re the one who started all this and now you just tell me that I’m too nosy?! Well, I’ll tell you something, Blaise Zabini. You are the most—“

“Hermione,” Blaise says, interrupting her mid-rant. She’s so surprised by the use of her first name that she stops.

“What?”

“Shut up,” he says, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him. She’s about to protest when he leans down and kisses her again.

She hates how he can do this and her body just gives in. She manages to push him away, prepared to demand an explanation.

She stops at the look on his face, though. She can’t explain the emotion but it makes her pause.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, alright?” Blaise says, staring into her eyes. “You’re everywhere and it was getting fucking annoying.” Hermione ignores his use of language. “I thought if I did this it would stop, but I don’t think it’s going to. In fact, I think I made it worse.”

Hermione is confused. “I don’t understand.”

Blaise sighs. “I think… I have feelings for you.”

“For me?” Hermione repeats, unable to believe it.

“Do you see anyone else in this hallway?” Blaise drawls, letting his Slytherin nature slip through. He reminds himself it’s not the best way to get her to like him, so he pushes it back.

Hermione is so distracted that his sarcasm barely permeates her mind. “But… you’re—I’m—“

Blaise sighs and takes a step forward, cupping her face in his hands and tipping her head upward. “You’re beautiful, and I’m going to be dating you if you say yes.”

Hermione is shocked beyond belief. No one has ever said anything like that to her before, especially not a guy she is beginning to think she likes.

She takes a moment to think about it, trying to sort out what she wants. If she dates Blaise, Harry and Ron will surely have something to say about, he being a Slytherin git and all. But then, she is pretty sure Blaise can handle himself against them.

Blaise is waiting impatiently, hoping she’ll say yes. He realizes now how stupid he was to assume that being with her would rid her from his thoughts. He knows it was a mistake to think that. Now he’s put himself on the line and it’s her decision.

Finally, her eyes flick back to his and a tentative smile creeps on her face. “Yes.”

Blaise lets out the breath he doesn’t realize he’s been holding. He leans down and kisses her softly. Her eyes close for a second until he pulls away, smiling at her.

They part that night with contented smiles on both their faces. Blaise is feeling better all the time about his decision and isn’t worried about what the Slytherins will do. He can handle them. As he walks back to his dormitory, his mind is busy concocting the next fantasy he may just get to act out in real life.


~~**~~

A/N: So this is the second chapter and final chapter :) Was it a good complement to the first? Please review! :) I'm interested in writing more of this if I can find some good ideas and time ;)