𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭

Harry sat in the midst of the close knit circle as his companions anxiously held their breaths.

As soon as the shallow whisper was heard, Draco hurried to sit beside and quickly supplied support to Harry's body.

With a worried and vexed face, Hermione asked, "Harry, was it the him again?"

Still groggy and in pain, Harry shakily answered, "Yes. He is searching for something. Searching so desperately as if his life depended on it. Something that a man named Gregorwitch had but was stolen from him"

From behind Harry, Draco's gentle but forceful voice uttered, "Leave it for later. Rest for now and don't think too much"

Hermione promptly stopped asking, smartly giving Harry some space. Around them, complex emotions flashed in the six pairs of eyes. All of them were curious as to what Harry saw and who was this Gregorwitch ? Even with the questions in their heads, the silence outside prevailed. They all clearly knew that if it was something worth knowing they would naturally be informed sooner or later.

Hermione sat beside the weak but conscious Pansy in the tent. They had quickly transferred Harry and Pansy in the two available tents. While Draco looked after Harry in the next tent, Hermione was asked by him to look after Pansy. Even if Draco didn't ask her, she would have come by herself anyway.

Draco had worked quickly, leaving close to no internal or external wounds on Pansy, only severe weakness.

Hermione's hazel eyes scrunched in worry and guilt as she looked at the petite girl who was laying in front of her. Her hand came forward as if wanting to soothe her brows which were frowning due to discomfort. But soon stopped just a hair's breadth away from the pale cheeks.

The curse which hit Pansy was a dark curse, designed to give a painful and abrupt death to the victim by suffocation. This curse was no less evil than the 'Avada kedabra' itself. Atleast, the book in her lap said so.

According to the book, Pansy should have died by now. But she didn't. Hermione was sure that the curse had hit Pansy and that she should be affected. But it seemed as if something blocked and held off the curse. Something that was inside Pansy.

Her curiosity gnawed at her heart but was drowned by guilt and worry. Afterall, it was for her that Pansy was injured. She remembered the moment when the bright light of the curse was coming her way. At that time, she had frozen from the shock and fear. And then suddenly a figure blocked her sight as it took the curse with a pained shout.

Hermione vividly remembered the heavy blue of Pansy's eyes as they shone with reassurance that she was safe but soon dimmed with the pain.

And Hermione also vividly remembered how she forgot this within just 10 minutes of it happening.

How could she so easily forget her? Was she such a selfish and uncaring character? Did a person's life mean so little to her? Did Pansy's life mean so little to her? Was Pansy so easily disposable to her?

Even if she desperately wanted to deceive herself, Hermione knew that she couldn't. In her heart, she knew that- yes, It is true.

She is such a despicable person. She knows that no one in this world is an angel. Even she isn't such a pure saint.

But this realisation didn't diminish the guilt and regret. Just like she was a little cruel to those who didn't matter to her, she also wasn't ungrateful to those who did help her.

Hermione clearly knew that Pansy didn't have any obligation to shield her from that curse at the ministry, just like she didn't have any obligation to pick her up from her house. But she still did. And it wasn't because of anything other than her own heart.

'I realise that she is so - naive? gentle? emotional? I don't know… She is so unnecessarily giving. What's the use of being kind when there's no need or use to her kindness? This isn't how Slytherins are supposed to be….'

And suddenly, a year's long misconception and misunderstanding broke. Hermione finally saw that just because the books say that Slytherins are vicious doesn't mean they actually are. Everything and everyone has exceptions and conditions for doing and being something.

Silently, in her heart, Hermione made a firm promise that from today she would pay attention to the uncharacteristically wise but naive girl so unhesitatingly asleep in front of her.

In the next tent, Draco scanned Harry's body with his magic again and again but couldn't find any reason as to why Harry was having these visions of Voldemort.

He aggrievedly frowned and again scanned Harry's body and magic, hoping to find anything, no matter how small. There must be something out of normal. How is it possible that 'it' left no clue?

Soft and slender hands roamed Harry's body. The tender and careful touch sparking a wildfire across his skin.

'Ahh...there is really no name for this. What good did I do in my past life to get this ?', Harry thought.

He sat there as Draco checked his body from front to back and from left to right. Honestly, he was enjoying this too much to be considered normal and not crazy or perverted.

Afterall, who wouldn't like the beauty of their dreams probing and touching them here and there all over their body ?!

[T/N :- Tell honestly, guys - all of us have had this moment with that hot doctor or nurse, haven't we? Don't lie! Come on! Out with it! I want to know that it wasn't just me drooling like a pervert when the hot dentist put her fingers in my mouth !!! ]

Harry looked at the pale beauty who frowned aggrievedly. His silly beauty still couldn't find where the problem was. Stubborn, as he was, he continued to search, a pout slowly and unconsciously rising on his lips.

Harry's eyes widened suddenly-

THUMP !!!

STRIKE !!!

The cupid's arrow pierced cleanly through a beating heart, flowing beautiful scarlet blood.

"Ahhh~ My heart !", Harry muttered with a groan as he rubbed the warm flesh of his chest right above his heart. But this did nothing to relieve the pleasurable sting and ecstatic pain thrumming there.

Harry hissed as he kept rubbing his chest, a crazed look shining in his eyes.

Draco swiftly looked up and was shocked to see Harry rubbing his chest in obvious pain.

" What happened ?! ", Draco asked frantically. He was fine just now, how could anything happen to him so suddenly ?

And Harry thought,'What happened? Your pout is what happened ! '

Seriously, it was absolutely true when they warned that love killed men !

A pout ! A FUCKING POUT ! Was all it took for Harry to lose all his defences.

Looking at Draco's face again, Harry realised that it wasn't the pout that did the magic but this entire person. So, don't dare to underestimate his words, when he says-

THIS IS A MIRACULOUS MAGICAL PHENOMENON !!!

And let him tell you, this is no simple thing! This magical phenomena, namely, 'Going utterly stupid because your darling is too hot', is a explosive and incurable condition. Once you get it, you are it.

And, NO ! He absolutely isn't joking !

So beware, public ! This phenomenon is highly common and contagious, being especially harmful to your public image.

Symptoms include rapid heartbeat, too warm and sensitive skin, sweating, mouth going too dry or too wet according to your kinks and fetishes, while certain parts usually get wet till the point of dripping. So, in short, according to top doctors and scientists, -YOU GO HORNY .

Therefore, if one is to avoid absolute social suicide, expersts recommend- RUNNING AS FAST AS YOU CAN THE OTHER WAY !!!

OR, for the more courageous and bold ones, - FUCKING YOUR DARLING TO ABSOLUTE HEAVENS SO AS TO RUIN THEM FOR ANYONE ELSE , is also highly reccomendable.

His hands swiftly retreating and Draco's worried gaze roamed about Harry, "You were fine just now. What happened so suddenly?!"

Seeing Draco stop and hesitate to touch him, Harry felt a twinge of disappointment and aggreivation. He said somewhat urgently, "Why did you stop ?!"

Draco's hands were roughly pulled by a pair of larger hands and promptly led to rest on a wide and warm chest.

Harry felt the slender palm right above his heart and said with satisfaction, "Now, why don't you just keep going?"

Draco: "..."

Draco's pale face instantly puffed red with anger. A scowl itched his face and he pushed Harry away without a thought, "You shameless wanker ! Pervert ! Stay away from me !" And he swiftly walked out with steps stiff out of anger.

Behind him Harry's voice called, "Hey! Where are you going? I am still sick! Check me some more! What if something happened to me?! What are you going to do then ?!"

"Then go die, why don't you ?! "

Everyone else: "..."

When did their golden boy, their saviour, their beacon of light, their eternal hero turn into an absolute hooligan? Is this still their Saint Gryffindor? Has the end of time come so early ?

Outside the tent, a crowd huddled together not daring to go anywhere near the black-faced young master. All of them clearly heard the shout just now and also clearly saw the eyes spewing jets of fire.

Draco walked out and fiercely started to disembowel the fishes caught by George and Fred sometime ago to prepare them for dinner.

Pansy is recovering from a dangerous spell and is somewhat weak. She needs to eat healthy and fully. So Draco is personally going to make a portion for her and Theo ….and maybe a little for Harry, since he is Draco's patient as well. And he needs something to splash blood and relieve his anger anyway !

The crowd : "..."

George said, "Harry is going to need a miracle to solve this"

Theo, who was beside him silently looked at him, replied, "It's already a miracle that he survived"

Fred said with a helpless sigh, "Well, he is the chosen one, isn't he?"

Draco looked at the two chatting idlers and his cute Theo trapped between them. A sense of danger rose in his heart. It almost felt like seeing his own sweet child being wooed away by disgusting boys. Suddenly, the Weasley twins seemed much less pleasant than before.

"What are you chatting there for?! You useless gryffindorks, come here and help me! And while you're at it, call Kreacher out to help as well."

Draco turned his head to Theo and his face grew softer along with his voice, "Theo, why don't you come sit with me? Let these two weasels do the work. You don't have to dirty your hands."

Theo, a rich young master, readily agreed and happily skipped to sit besides Draco. George and Fred looked at each other with ugly faces. Not only were they made personal servants of a notorious young master but the cutie beside them was also called away.

Their faces turned towards Theo to see Draco protectively hovering beside him, looking particularly murderous with bloody hands and holding a blood-stained knife. Their faces turned even uglier and somewhat fearful. It felt that if they weren't careful, it can't take much to replace the fish blood with their own. But still, even though reluctant, they obediently did their work. Otherwise, who knows when big bro Draco will even give them a chance to look at the black-haired cutie? Let alone talk to him ! They still had to woo the little cutie !

Just like this, Fred went to call Kreacher out and George started to clean the pile of fishes enough for 12 people alone. After some moments, Fred came back with Kreacher.

Kreacher reverently looked at Draco and called out, "Master ! Kreacher is here !"

The position of Draco had increased unanimously since the revelations back at the Grimmuald place. He was now even more preferably towards Draco, more so than Harry who was his actual master.

Draco looked at the eager and experienced elf waiting for instruction and then at the gryffindors working lazily. In a minute, he made his decision and said, "Kreacher, You have to look at those two there and make sure they do their work properly."

George and Fred: "!!!"

George and Fred: Young Master ! Please show mercy ! Leave us some face in front of our cutie ! How can we woo him if you keep putting our face in the mud ?! Harry ! Atleast, you are our brother ! Please have mercy on us ! Why should we suffer such injustice because of your fault?! Come fast and coax your darling ! Leaving your darling angry is not a gentleman's behaviour, don't you know ?!

Sometime went by like this. When Ron came back after collecting some stray sticks for fire, what he saw was Harry's various attempts at coaxing a very angry Draco.

He looked at Harry following Draco around like a miserable servant and then at Draco doing this and that while absolutely ignoring a particular green-eyed molester.

His eyes scanned again and soon caught the sight of two ghouls working soullessly under the relentless words of a house elf. On more clear observation, he saw that these ghouls were-

"Fred? George?"

Walking to George and Fred, he asked silently but worried, "What is going on ? What happened to both of you ?"

George and Fred's tired faces turned towards him and for once Ron felt as if he was talking to two slaves who were severely exploited by their master, "Don't worry. Soon, you will be used to it as well. When the king and the queen fight, it's natural for poor pheasants like us to suffer"

Ron: " ??? "

Ron: " what?"

Kreacher, who saw that these two lazy boys were idling again, shouted, "Why did you stop?! Keep working, we still have a heap of fishes to clean ! Master Draco needs these within an hour ! Work fast you lazy boys!"

Fred and George : …..(╥﹏╥)

The sun went down and so did Draco's anger. Hermione slowly supported a haggard Pansy to sit beside the fire. Her face was wrought with exhaustion and tiredness of the sick. Draco and Theo were immediately beside her to attentively cater her needs.

Soon, eight people all sat around the bonfire and ate the grilled fish like starved beasts, finishing in minutes. Before they ate, they also called the two elves for dinner as well but were resolutely refused because, "The elves should not eat with the masters ! It's not proper !", As Kreacher had sternly said and tightly held back Dobby as well.

Faced with such stubbornness, Theo suggested that the dinner should just be delivered to their tent if they don't want to come out. Just like this, two portions of dinner were sent to the small tent.

After quickly finishing his part, Harry looked up and said, "Does anyone know who Gregorwitch might be?"

Several heads immediately turned to him. Ron was the first to ask, "Is this related to the vision you saw?"

Harry solemnly nodded, "Yes. Voldemort wanted something from this man. He was torturing him for it. But the man didn't have it and was murdered by voldemort."

A speculative silence spread and everyone thought seriously. But, no one could remember the name Gregorwitch being heard or read anywhere. After several minutes, Hermione, who remembered something as well, quickly got up to enter one of the tents.

Others looked after her curiously, several moments passed and Hermione came out again with a book in her hands.

"Isn't this the book we bought, Hermione?", Fred asked.

Hermione answered simply, "It is. When I was reading it, I noticed a peculiar symbol on the front page. At first I thought that it was printed, but looking closer I realised that it was actually drawn by someone. I suspect that it might be a clue left for us by Dumbledore"

She opened the page and the symbol revealed itself. It was a small triangle with a circle inside touching all three of its sides and a horizontal line coming from the top of the triangle and ending on the opposite side, perfectly dividing the figure. The symbol was drawn on the upper corner of the page and seemed very inconspicuous. If it was someone other than Hermione, they probably wouldn't have noticed it.

Everyone curiously stretched their necks to see. But Pansy was weak so she couldn't go there to inspect the symbol with everyone but instead sat quietly looking at the excitement.

Hermione saw the aggrieved look on her face and found it especially lovely. So, she silently picked up the book and moved to sit beside Pansy, saying, "This is a good seat, isn't it? Near to the fire, warm and bright. Feels very comfortable, right?"

Pansy's blue eyes took on a very different shade in the warm brightness of the fire. The shade itself is cold but when gazed into gives the image as if hiding something beautiful inside. Hermione was enchanted. It was as if she was drowning and Pansy was the ocean swallowing her, serene and beautiful but deep and mysterious as well.

A graceful smile rose on Pansy's face, "Of course it is. This is the place where I sit, it has to be the best. Obviously, it will be noticed and used by others"

Eyes gentle but words as harsh as knives. This is how Pansy was. Hermione understood this and didn't mind. Instead, she took the plate in Pansy's hands and carefully helped her take out all the fish bones before giving it back.

Pansy cast a doubtful look towards her but still, albeit hesitantly, took the plate and started eating while curiously looking at the symbol from the corner of her eyes.

Even if she didn't speak, her eyes shone hidden curiosity and happiness as she slowly ate. She wasn't very comfortable moving her body so when Hermione helped her with the fish, she happily ate it. But what made her even more happy was that Hermione noticed such a small detail about her and that she personally helped her. She secretly felt ecstatic in her heart.

Theo, who was on the other side of Pansy, was just going to help her with the fish but stopped when he saw this scene. His eyes drifted towards Draco with questions and worry. Alas, Draco could only give him a helpless but assuring look.

Draco was very clear about the budding emotions in Pansy's heart. He had an inkling when Pansy went to pick Hermione up in the muggle London. But his suspicion was confirmed when she took a deadly curse for Hermione. He was very sure about Pansy's feelings but what worried him was Hermione's reaction to these feelings. He didn't want this sister to get hurt for a love who might not even see her that way. This was the general sentiment of every brother towards their sister. Although he was worried, Hermione's behaviour didn't go unnoticed by him. And it seems that there is a possibility of love ….

Alas, he should not think of this now. It's never wise to worry about a problem that might not even come true. It's better to focus on the present and keep an eye on the future.

In this commotion, Ron was entirely forgotten and he himself was lost in his thoughts. He seemed to have seen the symbol Hermione showed them somewhere. He was sure that he saw it somewhere but he just couldn't remember. The memory was on the tip of his mind. Entangled in these thoughts, he didn't notice any of the happenings around.

George, Fred and Harry inquiringly looked at Ron. They were the closest to Ron here and knew that he had some thoughts about Hermione. So, when Hermione showed unusual attention to another, they all turned to Ron so as to gauge his reaction. But seeing that he seemed alright, the worry in their hearts was obviously scattered.

Seeing that the opportunity was right, Harry firmly informed, "I am going to visit Godric's Valley"

Several stunned heads turned and voices resounded. But Harry was tenacious and firm. He shot down each and every word of opposition. He was unyielding in his decision.

Draco sat beside, not saying a word. He quietly listened to Harry dissuading every inquiry and objection one by one, firmly keeping his stand. He didn't comment from start to finish in this conversation.

Draco very lucidly knew that you can object when someone asks a question or suggestion. But even persuading someone who is simply informing you of a simple fact is not possible.

" I will be going there tomorrow morning.", Harry said and with this firmly closed the chattering mouths.

By this time, it was already four hours past sundown and everyone tiredly went to sleep in their tents.

That night, as everyone went to sleep with a passive lingering worry in their minds, Harry silently stepped out of his tent. His footsteps were tender, mindful of his sleeping companions.

As he soundlessly raised his wand to apparate, a voice asked from behind, "Going somewhere?"

Behind him stood Draco with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised with a stern look, "Didn't you tell everyone you were going to Godric's valley tomorrow morning?"

Harry: "..."

Green eyes nonchalantly lifted to the moon, "Doesn't the moon look especially beautiful tonight? It seems a waste if I don't enjoy such sight-"

Draco's lips straightened in annoyance, "Don't even mind, Potter."

Tubelights started lighting in Harry's head, 'Time to use what oldman Eloisi taught- “When discovered during a mission, completing the task and escaping unashamed is much better than taking on a fight”'

Harry's wand raised swiftly and Draco shouted, "Wait, you maniac !" As he rushed to Harry.

"Apparate !"

– [ Hogward's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland ]

In the defence against dark arts classroom, Slytherin and Gryffindor sat in perfect partition.

The Slytherins were filled with worry and unwillingness. But the Gryffindors beside them were entirely stuffed with dread and impending doom.

The so-called professor entered and fear sunk in the entire class.

The professor was obviously a death eater. For the past few days, he had found various ways to torture the students, making their life more of a hell that the actual one. While the Slytherin suffered less than Gryffindors, they still weren't in a good condition.

Neville sat in the front, silently offering some kind of protection to the ones behind him. After the golden trio left, the situation had made him the bravest one here, so they all instinctively turned to him as their leader. After all, Gryffindors value courage and righteousness, both of which were the qualities he revealed in abundant waves these past few weeks. They minded his entanglement with Blaise but the protection he provided still made them acknowledge him.

The man looked at them with an expression as if planning to play with his favorite toys and said, "Well, well. Looks like my efforts in disciplining you wretched brats finally bore fruit."

He took a cursory look, especially in the direction of the Gryffindor students.

"Let's get started with today's lesson, shall we?", The professor said eagerly.

"I assume that all of you know the unforgivable curses, don't you? Last time we learnt the imperious curse. And since you all seemed to enjoy that class, so today we will learn ….. the cruciatus"

His gloomy eyes swept across the room. As they landed in Neville, a look of sick eagerness and enjoyment on his face.

"Ahh… Isn't that the brave Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville's shoulders stiffened under the steady smile. At the same time, the forest green eyes of a Slytherin boy, sitting at the back of the class, darkened.

Blaise looked cautiously at the professor as the man said maliciously, "I noticed that in all the students, you particularly liked last class, didn't you?"

Neville stayed quiet ,refusing to answer, as he glared at the man without fear.

The professor continued, "Well, since you liked it so much, how can I disappoint you by not letting you experience another of such a curse?" A face gleamed with malicious intentions.

Blaise's eyes widened. And before he could shield Neville, the curse hit.

"Crucio!"

" AHH !", Neville shouted in agony and entirely curled up in himself. His body bonelessly slumping on the seat as he lost consciousness.

Gasps of fear rang out through the students of both houses, Gryffindor and Slytherin.

A gryffindor girl ,sitting somewhere near the middle, forcefully tried to hide her shivering hands out of fear. She was scared that she might be next.

A flash of green passed by the corner of her eyes. In the next second, a tall figure stood in front of the unconscious Neville.

The entire class watched as Blaise wrapped his arms around the boy, supporting him. His angular and beautiful face lifted to look at the man.

He said in a nonchalant voice, "Professor, It is very unprofessional to damage your student's goods, don't you know?" His eyes were still cold and unfeeling with just slight aggravation similar to a child whose favorite toy had been damaged. "What if he breaks? I still haven't played enough, you know."

The professor looked at the Slytherin boy and suddenly laughed loudly, "Ahaha! Oh, I am sorry to damage your toy, Heir Zabini. I wasn't aware that you still haven't played enough. I didn't expect you to still bother after playing with your toy almost every night"

Blaise hummed, stroking Neville's brows drenched in cold sweat, "Don't worry, professor. I won't neglect my studies in the favour of leisure enjoyment."

The man said in a hypocritic and patronizing tone, like a mentor teaching his ward, "Work and play should indeed be balanced. Considering your recent grades, I allow you to take this class off to rest and take your… toy to the medical wing."

At the end, his voice turned disdainful as if he tasted dung. His eyes on Neville were disgusted but filled with mirth at his misfortunate as well.

Blaise's hands of Neville's him tightened as he picked the boy in his arms and walked out. Leaving the entire class of the students, Slytherins and Gryffindors alike, with wide-eyes and cold-hearts.

It took all he had to not just blow the man's head off the moment his eye landed on Neville.

With hurried steps, Blaise took Neville to the medical wind, eager to know that Neville was alright.

After the treatment, Blaise was assured that Neville was fine and took the boy in his arms back to the Slytherin dormitory.

When Neville woke up, it was already night. The green colour of the sheets and the blankets brought an indescribable calm to him.

Just as he was about to sit up, a voice said, "You woke up?"

Neville turned his head to see Blaise coming towards him to gently help. Sitting up, Neville shrugged off the hands on his shoulders.

"Why did you bring me here?", He asked, not willing to look at the Slytherin.

Blaise frowned at his tone, "Why not?"

Neville's eyes snapped to face him and with a strange but seething tone, said, "Well, I would hate it if your precious attention was spent on a toy like me rather than your several paramours."

The frown on Blaise's brows eased and he teasingly said, "Is my precious toy jealousy?"

Neville lowered his head to hide and Blaise thought he was shy. He bent his head to peer under the bangs and was stunned to fat tears falling out of red and glassy eyes.

As if struck by thunder, Blaise was stumped. He hurriedly started to wipe the tears and asked, " Merlin ! W-what did i do? Why are you crying, Longbottom?"

Hearing him, Neville looked up to see a face frowning with worry, confusion and guilt. A look at the emotions in Blaise's eyes and Neville wailed louder.

Blaise was useless in this situation. He knew nothing about support or care. He could just sit there repeatedly wiping the tears with gentle but cold hands.

Neville looked up at Blaise and said with a choking voice, "I am not a toy! I don't want to be your toy! I don't like how everyone looks at me! I don't like how they give me disgusted and pitying glances! It feels disgusting! I hate it!"

He paused as more tears fell and soon continued more softly "I feel so dirty. It feels nauseating everytime I imagine what others might think of me. I know it's not true but it still feels disgusting."

Blaise didn't know what to say. He was the one who started this. His original intention was to portray Neville as someone under his protection. Like this, students and professors will both hesitate to harm him because behind him stood Blaise Zabini, a pureblood heir of a powerful slytherin family and the most probable of the younger generation to enter the ranks of death eaters and ascend to a high position now, that Draco Malfoy was supposedly dead.

Blaise knew that this wasn't much of a protection, but this was the only thing he could do to protect a reckless and ridiculous gryffindor desperately hated by the dark side. This was the only way which allowed him to keep Neville by his side and subsequently not alert the death eaters in Hogward's.

Blaise let his palm rest on the chubby cheeks, "Did anyone say anything to you?"

Neville took the comfort from the touch on his face to slowly calm down, "No. No one said anything"

" The gryffindors as well ?", Blaise asked.

"They -....", Neville wanted to deny but abruptly stopped when he saw how Blaise's eyes darkened with gloom. He looked down and softly continued, "Some of them call me names. But they never tried to hurt me. They just say some... things. That's all. Such things won't affect me"

Blaise's eyes softened at the confession, "But here you are, crying miserably."

Neville raised his eyes somewhat petulantly but said nothing. Blaise looked down to the chubby face. The face had plum cheeks and doe eyes, both reddened because of the tears. The baby fat still visible on his face made him look even more pitiful and precious.

The well defined hand rested against warm and moist cheeks, the dark complexion looking particularly harmonious against the rosy and fair face.

Seeing such innocence, an inscrutable jumble rose in Blaise's eyes. He hesitated for a minute before slowly uttering, "About the several paramours….. It's not true. So you don't need to worry about it."

Hearing these words Neville stilled. His mind was stumped for several moments before a look of indescribable anger rose on his face. And just like this the beautiful atmosphere was completely destroyed and Blaise literally threw a hammer on his own leg.

Neville's fiery gaze aimed sharp arrows at the slytherin in front, "Zabini ! Aren't you already enough of a scum?! Do I look stupid enough for you to lie such a shameless lie?! "

With this, Neville staggered out of bed with angry steps and promptly turned towards the door.

How could he lie to Neville like this ?! Did he think that Neville was a fool enough to believe such an obvious lie ?

Blaise's reputation of being a lady's man wasn't, by any means, low-key. It was an open secret at Hogward's that Blaise Zabini was a man who appreciated the pleasure of skin. How could Neville even believe such words with this knowledge ?

Neville didn't know why he was so angry. Maybe it was Blaise's act of lying to him or maybe it was the fact that Blaise had so many lovers that ignited this rare anger inside the soft-hearted and soft-mouthed Neville.

Blaise, who was utterly shocked at the display of such rare rage, looked at the stumbling boy. His brain was stuck but instincts weren't. He quickly pulled Neville back on the bed and tightly held him as he tried to struggle away.

Blaise hastily tried to explain, "I am not lying ! Neville, believe me !"

It is true when philosophers say that sometimes simple instincts are more accurate and useful than a genius brain.

Blaise couldn't process what was happening but his heart was anxious to let Neville leave with such misunderstanding. It felt like if, today, he let Neville leave with this misunderstanding, then the regret tomorrow will be an infinite torture for his whole life. So, he hastily tried to prove his innocence.

The struggling stopped momentarily and Neville looked up aggrieved, "What can you say ? The whole school knows how much you surround yourself with women ! “One on the right arm and other on the left” - isn't this what they say ! Why do you bother to lie when everyone knows the truth ?!"

Blaise was even more panicked and didn't hesitate anymore. His arms tightened impossibly around Neville to hold him from escaping. As he tightly closed his eyes, concentrating on what he wanted to do.

Neville, who was still trying to break away from the stubborn hold, was instantly stunned when he found that instead of the green blankets beneath them, now there was the cold earth. His astonished gaze lifted to meet an endless valley of lavender fields around him.

Neville's eyes widened, "Merlin…."

His gaze shifted towards Blaise to see his eyes still closed while keeping the unrelenting grip on his waist.

"Blaise…? What -? How-?", Neville was speechless and headlessly confused.

Where are they? How did they get here? What just happened? They were in Blaise's room in the Slytherin dormitory just now. Did they apparate? But apparition is prohibited in Hogward's. What just happened?

Hearing Neville's astonished voice, Blaise slowly opened his eyes and the scenery around slowly returned to the green and silver furnishing.

For a second, no one spoke. Two pairs of eyes blankly stared at each other. It looked oddly romantic and stupid at the same time.

Blaise was the first to look away as he gave a shallow cough. His gaze travelled to look at where his hand still loosely gripped Neville's waist.

The waist was not thin like that of a woman but of ample diameter. Even through the dress shirt, Blaise could still feel the soft and flexible skin underneath. When he gripped this part not long ago, his fingers had dug into the plump flesh there, probably leaving a red handprint on them.

Blaise hurriedly collected his rampant thoughts. He had known of these strange thoughts he had about Neville for some days. And he was aware where he was heading. But right now clearly wasn't the time to wonder about red handprints on a fair waist. He still needed to explain to Neville.

With slow and unhurried words, Blaise spoke, "I didn't lie. I have no paramours or lovers. Never had any, in fact. But that doesn't mean that what those people say is false. What you say just now is an illusion I made. I often trick these extremely persistent ‘paramours’ like this to make them feel that they have visited my bed. But I- I never actually touched any of them….."

Neville had never looked away from the beautiful face and still firmly stared at Blaise, "You- you really did that? Why? I had always thought….."

It's not that Neville didn't believe Blaise this time around. Afterall, he had personally experienced the so-called illusion and was shocked by the effect. But this ability of Blaise isn't something that bothered him. Actually, he didn't even care about it. What he did care about was why Blaise did this?

This time, when Blaise met his eyes, Neville could sense a strange helplessness in them.

Blaise looked at the charm of innocence on the face in front of him and a sigh escaped from his lungs, "Have you heard the saying that half of the child's fate is written by the parents? My mother had seven husbands and innumerable lovers. As her son in flesh and blood, how can I be any different? People assume things and sometimes, I find that just agreeing to their assumptions is much safer rather than fighting them."

At this, Neville didn't know what to say. He wanted to comfort but didn't know how to. If it had been anyone else, it wouldn't have been so difficult. But now with Blaise….

Neville was confused but eager to be the source of warmth for the boy….no, the man in front of him. The task to comfort a man who has suffered the world and the society is almost impossible for Neville. So he used the tactic Blaise had used minutes ago to comfort him.

Blaise was awakened of his stupor when a fair hand led his own bronze one from the plum waist to rest on rosy cheeks.

Blaise drew a sharp breath as Neville closed his eyes and wordlessly nuzzled into his palm.

Both of Neville's hands softly intertwined his forearm sticking to his chest as Blaise's hand rested on his cheek.

This was Neville's way of giving warmth.

A hot rush of blood enveloped his entire being and Blaise thought, 'I just fell in love, didn't I?