Carridwen

"Later, when we become more mature,

we have that line,

if you're getting on well

with someone you can say,

'Do you want a cup of coffee?'

If they go, 'Yeah, OK,'

then sex is on, yeah?

That's the unwritten rule...

Doesn't always work." - Eddie Izzard, Dress to Kill



Harry stared at the dusty tome in his hands.



And stared.



He wanted to bang his head against the heavy wooden table, but assumed the librarians would not appreciate the gesture.



How anyone could study with the racket from the creaky fans above their heads, he knew not.



Yet he seemed to be the only student on the third floor of the library unable to do so.



With a resigned sigh, he shut the book and stowed it away in his worn leather messenger bag, leaning back in his chair to gaze glassily at the painted canvass ceiling distinguishing the four story library from the other halls and departments of Carridwen. He briefly tried to imagine what the fourth floor's beveled atrium revealed, and hoped the London sky was lit with airy sunlight, rather than the dull fog that was foreshadowing the fall season. But the wizard's paint currently above him had faeries and winged horses flying surreptitiously around banks of silvery clouds causing his eyes to scream for daylight.



He was abruptly steeped in shadows as a towering figure loomed over him.



"Daydreaming instead of studying?" A rich voice asked, with the hint of mediterranean lilt at its edges.



Harry startled, jumping a bit and quickly composing himself, having nearly fallen off the library's mahogany chair in the process.



Blaise Zabini laughed lyrically as Harry scrambled, and he found the green-eyed man looking at him with a mild scowl.



"Is there something you need, Zabini?" Harry attempted a drawl, but his words only conveyed curiosity.



"Hmm." Blaise's eyes took a small moment to appraise Harry's face, searching for some kind of answer to a question he had yet to compose.



"...Well?" Harry's eyebrows lifted, trying not to blush but failing miserably.



Blaise gave an affable smirk, seeming to have found his answer, "I was simply wondering if you'd mind my presence whilst you study... but I see you have already stopped in that endeavor, so would you wish to accompany me for cappuccino? I know a suitable cafe nearby."



Harry looked to the stairwell leading out of the building, and back to the table before him. Study, tea, study, tea... fresh air... He shook his head a bit, and figured what's the harm in it? before standing up and collecting his things, and following Blaise silently out onto the streets.



~~~~~~



Harry shifted in uncomfortably his seat from the heated gaze Blaise held him in. He fumbled with the protective pocket around his styrofoam cup of cappuccino and felt the umber tones of the surrounding walls cry for him to find real golden sun, rather than sit inside the monochrome cafe.



They had walked two blocks further than the cafe Harry frequented across from the campus, to a little Italian coffee house with expensive and rich roasts in names he could barely pronounce. Blaise had ordered their drinks, and authentically chatted with the barista in the foreign tongue.



Harry graciously accepted the offered drink, but took tedious sips and bit his tongue to hide his grimace at the taste. He rarely drank coffee - he was much more of a tea man, no matter the cost to his masculinity.



What could have possessed Blaise Zabini to invite Harry Potter out for coffee?



The tan young man across from him spoke fluidly, catching Harry off guard in his musings.



"So, Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, the man who defeated the darkest wizard in modern history. What have you been occupying your time with? What are you studying at university?"



"Ehm..." How was Harry supposed to respond to a such mundane question? Blaise had further put him at an unease by referencing his past and his title - a past he'd rather not dwell on and a title that to this day gave him discomfort - and by turning the conversation so quickly into a mirrored image of his last interview by Rita Skeeter. His nerves were on end.



"I've been rather busy, if you must know," he replied a bit more tersely than originally intended, "How about you, then, Blaise? Last I heard your family was prosecuted for stolen dark artifacts acquired during the war."



Blaise set his cup down brusquely, his eyes narrowing just a bit before widening in handsome curiosity, "How did you know of that? Our ministry records were sealed, Potter."



Harry smirked, relieved he was now the one in power between their banter, "I have a few tricks up my sleeve."



The darker man smiled at this, any anxiety washing from his face and once again he turned to Harry with a look of carefree ardor.



"A tricky Harry Potter? How very Slytherin of you! There certainly is more to you than I once had thought." He took a sovereign sip of his drink and continued to watch Harry.



Harry couldn't figure out what to think about the caramel being before him. His burning blue gaze made Harry feel hot and nervous - and in a dark way he liked it. He briefly imagined pressing the man up against a wall and snogging him senseless, and hastily blinked back the thought - Harry had been having strange sexual inclinations since the end of the war and his outlandish break-up with Ginny, but did they have to hit him in such awkward situations? He was unsure of his sexuality, and he was comfortable in his ignorance... he had experienced a few trysts with men since the situation with Ginny, but he certainly wasn't about to start flirting with random straight men.



In all honesty the accented beauty before him intimidated him in a way that set his nerves on fire. He was stunning to look at, with dark brown hair that curled and trailed past his ears. His deep blue eyes were more majestic than any cliched reference to the ocean, with a Roman nose leading to full lips and a splash of a relaxed smile.



He was three inches taller than Harry, yet just as fit - both men had managed to keep their Quidditch-toned bodies, the width of their muscles filling them out to look lean rather than slim. Harry's thoughts betrayed him as he imagined that Blaise would be the type to dominate rather than be dominated, and he inwardly cursed at the possible loss.



And while basking in the glory of Blaise's designer attire, Harry felt a bit disheveled in his gray slacks and simple maroon sweater.



Blaise's smile once more burned into him, and he felt a bit short of breath - and a bit awkward, they had still only barely spoken since they started this escapade.



"How odd, don't you think? Two former rivals sitting calmly for coffee?"



Harry nearly snorted in response - is that what this has been all about?



"I suppose. But I'd like to think the past is in the past," Harry smirked before challenging him, "We all move on past simple schoolboy rivalries, don't we?"



"Indeed, I believe we do," Blaise smiled ever more with this, and Harry felt like this was the most he'd ever seen a Slytherin graduate enjoying... well... anything.



They both relaxed into a light conversation. Harry found himself enjoying hearing Blaise speak, the way his hands tightened around his cup as he asserted an artistic self control over his own words, and how the man's blue eyes stayed transfixed on his own green ones.



"What brought you to Carridwen, Blaise?"



"Well," the boy looked pensive for a moment, "I've recently found an interest in the music industry. I manage for one of London's posh and cutting-edge mash-up artists now, and am looking to set up a recording company, something that could span muggle and wizarding audiences. But I'm finding little to no help from the wizarding world in my endeavors, what with the reputation of my name, so I sought to take classes at university to acquire the required knowledge for such a venture."



"That's rather well thought out. I have to say I'm fairly impressed!" Harry couldn't help but admire the strategy for Blaise's life; the man had his future seemingly figured out. Harry wondered if he'd truly ever find what he was looking for in his own life.



"It's really all to impress pretty lads like yourself, Harry," Blaise once more shot him a heated look, and Harry felt his cheeks burn up at the flirtatious remark. Was Blaise trying to make a pass at him? What kind of game was he playing at?



Blaise tilted his head, eyes still holding Harry's, "But yes, my path was really moved along by a close friend. He convinced me to move back to England, and inundated me with his new found lifestyle, and my inner entrepreneur simply took over. I must say, I couldn't resist."



Blaise set down his cup and moved to place his hand on the table, seemingly relaxed in his movement, and yet Harry recognized this as another control technique - he assumed to keep his hands from nervous motions.



Harry bit his lip a bit, wondering what Blaise really wanted from him, from this exchange.



"So tell me, Harry Potter, has any lucky witch or wizard managed to catch your eye yet? I've yet to hear mention of a fortunate boyfriend." The tone of Blaise's voice seemed to highlight the term 'boyfriend,' making a vivid pink blush run across Harry's cheekbones.



"Ehm, no, I haven't much found time lately for any sort of dating, really..." he said, coughing lightly into his hand at an attempt to cover his embarrassment.



"And then what shall I call this? Myself buying you a drink and the two of us exchanging words for little over an hour - might I have the pleasure to say I went on a date with The Harry Potter?" a lazy smile could be heard in Blaise's words.



His green eyes as wide as saucers and Blaise's hot azure gaze placed heavily on him, Harry hardly knew how to respond. Blaise is interested in me? But... wait, so he's gay? Is he kidding?



And a bright, lithe form suddenly pushed through the door of the small coffee house, and headed expeditiously to their table.



"Blaise! There you are. Thank Shiva I managed to remember you're always at this place," The blonde man was of similar height to Harry, but more lithe in stature, and he kept his attention on Blaise. "Remingford called concerning the gig at The Loft and I had no idea what to tell him. You know I could really care less for the business end of this - so before I call back and decide to take the gig for free, I thought I'd get your opinion."



The new arrival stopped a foot from the table and glanced at Harry, only to do a quick double-take before he let his eyes go wide.



"Potter?" The blonde voiced, as an array of emotion passed under his steely gray eyes.



"Malfoy." Harry's fingers clenched at the cup in his hands. "Hadn't thought I'd be seeing you again."





A/N: awww there are so many hits for this story! also, many thanks to my fantastic beta cronikartist for her support and ingenuity.



MonsterOfMalice: haha, thanks! and i'm not rushing... legit i've got more chaps done than posted. it's kind of my insurance policy for readers, though, finish so many chapters before i post. and... how does one go about getting dreads? im curious.



nekoyoka: thanks for the review! much appreciation.



orlando1: thanks! i mean, i'm definitely trying to humanize the characters a bit, yknow? :)



SilverLion: thank you!! i know, i was thinking the same thing when i came up with this idea! and of course, being curious, i was like, "well how would people get high ranking jobs, then?" its definitely fun to write though, as i am at university. im sure other students at university will appreciate it lol

reviews are very much appreciated!!!