Harry wasn't sure how he managed to get out of bed the morning after Draco's Halloween party, especially after Severus had seen the manuscript and left in a hurry. Nevertheless, he forced himself out of there, and swallowed the pain medication before joining Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Draco for breakfast, which was delicious. He was introduced properly to Narcissa, Draco's mother, who was an extremely well put-together woman, especially given that her soon-to-be ex-husband was in prison awaiting trial.

Harry returned home later on that morning after Sirius and Remus picked him up, giving as short answers as possible to how his time at the party had gone. He could hardly tell his carers that he had literally thrown himself at his own social worker, and that they'd spent the night together to boot. Even though the age of consent was sixteen, Severus was still in a position of authority over him, so it wasn't as if they could do anything until Harry had aged out of the care system, if Severus was still interested, that is.

Come Monday, Harry said goodbye to Sirius and Remus and hopped into Draco's car, making small talk with his four new friends. Draco dropped off Ginny and Hermione first, and Harry pretended to be looking at the architecture of the nearby buildings around the City of London School for Girls as two snogging sessions took place around him—Draco and Ginny in the front of the car, and Ron and Hermione just beside him. Finally, when school was just around the corner from beginning, Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably, and Ginny and Hermione said their farewells, before Harry was invited up into the front of the car, and they sped off in the direction of their own school.

Harry, Ron, and Draco immediately headed to physics once Draco's car was placed in its reserved space in the car park, and Mr. Quirrell was already letting students into the lab classroom. Harry and Ron took their typical seats together, while Draco sat at the next table with another close friend of his, Blaise. Harry and Ron quickly took out their physics textbook, the second edition of Modern Physics: For Scientists and Engineers by John R. Taylor, Chris D. Zafiratos, Michael A. Dubson, and Harry wondered how three men could work together on one subject to produce a textbook.

"Good morning, gentlemen," said Mr. Quirrell as he made his way to the front of the class, his lecture notes already written on the chalkboard. "Today we'll be discussing time dilation, which can be classified as the difference in elapsed time measured by two clocks, either due to them having a velocity relative to each other, or by there being a gravitational potential difference between there locations. As such," he continued, "I've decided to shake things up a bit, with this new topic, which we will be discussing until our first term ends. The shake-up, as I just mentioned, will involve people swapping partners. For example, Mr. Longbottom will now be pairing up with Mr. Finnigan, and Mr. Thomas will be paired with Mr. McLaggen. I shall continued to list off the new groups. Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Weasley; Mr. Macmillan and Mr. Smith; Mr. Finch-Fletchley and Mr. Boot; Mr. Corner and Mr. Goldstein; Mr. Hopkins and Mr. Crabbe; Mr. Goyle and Mr. Entwhistle; Mr. Nott and Mr. Malone; Mr. Cornfoot and Mr. Rivers; and Mr. Zabini and Mr. Potter. Any questions?"

When no questions were forthcoming from the male teenagers, Mr. Quirrell encouraged them to move tables so that they were sitting with their new partners. Not one to be chastised for not obeying authority figures, Harry immediately grabbed his things and swapped places with Draco, and smiled at Blaise. On the few occasions they'd talked, Blaise had been nothing but polite to Harry, and Draco had told him of his aptitude in physics, which wouldn't hurt Harry, as it was likely his weakest subject.

"Guess we're partners now," Blaise said.

Harry laughed, and was relieved when Blaise joined him. "Guess so."

"Spend the first quarter hour getting acquainted with your new partner to ensure that the pair of you will work well together," Mr. Quirrell said from the front of the classroom. "After that, we will be discussing the lecture topic for the rest of class. Don't hesitate to share contact information with your new partner, as you will be working on your mid-term assignments together for this class."

"Brilliant," Harry said softly.

"It's all right," Blaise assured him.

"I'm pants at this," Harry admitted.

Blaise grinned. "Don't worry. I can help you. Draco says you're the best note-taker in class, and we'll need plenty of notes, considering that this is a new topic for all of us."

Harry was amazed at Blaise's ability to compliment people, especially since it was sincere. "I can't thank you enough for that," he said. "It's... Been a hell of a time."

"You were in care, weren't you?" Blaise asked, and at Harry's flush, he backpedaled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to overstep. It's just that I volunteer in one of the big London hospitals and see a lot of children who are part of the care system."

"Are you stereotyping me?"

"That's one way to look at it, even though I certainly don't mean to," Blaise admitted, drawing a dark hand through his equally dark hair. "You all have a particular wide-eyed look that I just can't seem to shake."

Harry blinked. "Wide-eyed look?"

"Yeah," Blaise replied. "Like you're hungry. Not just for food, although I'm sure that a lot of kids and teens in care would benefit from a good meal."

"A lot of us are starved for affection," Harry admitted, and Blaise's dark eyes took on a new wave of understanding then. "The problem is, a lot of us haven't been treated correctly over the years, and so we either don't know how to show affection appropriately, or we just don't know how to ask for it. And then it comes down to asking for it from the right people, because sometimes we can end up in terrible situations because of who we decide to trust."

Blaise sighed. "Blimey. I didn't know it was that bad."

Harry shrugged. "Unfortunately, the lot of us get used to it."

"My younger sisters were in care," Blaise said quietly, and Harry immediately felt bad for generalizing Blaise's words.

"How old are they?"

"Aideen is eleven, and Hestia is seven," Blaise told him. "Mum and Dad couldn't have any more kids after me, and so we all decided as a family to foster. They're biological siblings, and they came to us when they were five and one respectively. I was eleven, and I was a right git to the two of them at first, because Hestia cried all the time, and Aideen thought it was appropriate to go into my bedroom and mess up my stuff."

"Underlying issues," Harry said softly.

"You're not kidding," Blaise said with a smile. "Mum and Dad got great counselors for the girls to work out their issues, and we adopted them when they were eight and four."

"What do your mum and dad do?" Harry asked.

"Dad's a barrister for the London courts, and seems to like it," Blaise replied with a shrug. "My mum owns Sienna's Sorridere, that Italian restaurant in Downtown London."

"You're Italian?" Harry asked sarcastically with a grin.

"On both sides," Blaise confirmed. "Dad's people come from Tuscany and Kenya, while Mum's people originally came exclusively from Palermo in Sicily."

"I love Italian food," Harry told Blaise.

Blaise grinned at him. "Careful. Once my mum hears that and sees you, she'll want to fatten you up, and fast. She's as bad as Mrs. Weasley sometimes."

"They're friends?"

"Closest friends I've ever seen," Blaise confirmed. "Now that Ginny's so far into school, Mrs. Weasley will come to the restaurant sometimes and help make desserts. It gets more customers in the door, due to the fusion fare of both British and Italian food."

"Now you're making me hungry," Harry responded with a laugh.

"Bring Sirius and Remus to the restaurant this weekend," Blaise encouraged. "Our parents can talk about whatever it is adults talk about, and we can get some work done for our project."

"Any chance of getting fed?" Harry joked.

"More than a chance, Harry," Blaise replied, and Harry found that he thought Blaise's eyes were beautiful, thus potentially creating a new angle for The Wicked Count series. "Just let me know what your favorites are. I'm sure my mum'll make them."

~*~

The next couple of days seemed to fly by quickly, and Harry found himself looking forward to physics in the mornings, as it meant that he could sit and chat with Blaise for a few minutes before class began. He seemed to be flourishing within the class itself, as Blaise actually took the opportunity to explain intricate details of various lecture subjects with him, instead of Ron tossing the textbook at him and telling him to find the answers within the footnotes. Blaise seemed to relish in these teaching moments with Harry, and Harry found himself equally excited, because he would get to go to Blaise's family restaurant that Saturday evening with Sirius and Remus, who were delighted that Harry had made yet another friend.

When Thursday finally arrived, Harry was pleased to accept a ride from Blaise to his appointment with Severus. Promptly at three-thirty, Harry trooped into Severus's office and negotiated with his school bag briefly for a moment before he plunked himself down in the offered chair. He accepted Severus's offer for tea and biscuits, but Harry sensed that Severus was aware of his feelings of uneasiness. Harry swallowed where he sat, but nevertheless thanked Severus for the steaming mug of tea and perched upon the edge of his seat.

"Let me be the first to put your mind at ease," came the clipped tone as the social worker moved to sit opposite Harry at his own desk.

"Yes?" Harry whispered, hating that his mug trembled slightly in his hand, as he grew more and more uncomfortable with the situation at hand.

"You and I did not engage in complete sexual activity that night," Severus said steadily, and Harry found himself automatically breathing a sigh of relief. "We engaged in inappropriate kissing and touching, but nothing more."

"Thank you," Harry told him, knowing just how much trouble Severus could've gotten in, had the alternative happened.

"Yes, well, my type of man does not fall unconscious during my exploits," Severus told him, and Harry noticed just how awkward the man's tone was.

"I was unconscious?" Harry asked, his voice coming out reminiscent of a squeak, and found that he was uncomfortable with that fact.

Severus nodded, and Harry's uneasiness did not waver. "Yes," the man told him, and Harry noted the cold demeanor with each passing word between the two of them, which did nothing to change his emotions. "After we made it up to your borrowed bedroom, and you said some rather pretty words, you went limp in my arms."

Pretty words? Harry thought to himself. If I can write The Wicked Count sober, just imagine what I can say while pissed... "That doesn't explain why I was merely in boxers the following morning when Hermione woke us up," Harry put in, knowing that he had to say something in response to Severus's words.

"I figured you'd be more comfortable that way," Severus said plainly, and Harry momentarily hated himself for painting Severus in such a negative light. "I don't often like to fall asleep in fancy dress, but, perhaps, you do."

"No, I don't," Harry said softly, picking up his mug and sipping it slowly, wondering who in their right mind could possibly sleep comfortably in fancy dress. "Thank you for your consideration to my state of sleep dress."

Severus gave a stiff nod then, and Harry noticed him twirling his finger about the rim of his own mug, and caught himself, mid-thought, about all the possibilities of what those fingers could do, both good and wicked. "I'm afraid I must ask you to explain why there appeared to be an unfinished manuscript in your bag."

Harry choked on his tea, and took a moment to clear his throat. His eyes were watering and he trembled slightly as he finally asked, "Why?"

"Well, Harry, I am merely curious as to why you seemed to brush off all our previous discussions of The Wicked Count, when you yourself were dressed as the protagonist at Draco's Halloween celebrations, and then there's the matter of the manuscript..."

Harry set his mug down and lowered his eyes to the floor, immediately thinking that consenting to attending this meeting without Sirius or Remus with him had been a bad idea. "I don't see what I do in my private life is any of your business," he said, hating how sulky he perceived himself to sound. "I am hardly breaking any laws here..."

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Severus allowed. "However, I think you and I both know that Linfred Hardwin is a native of Bulgaria, quite a bit taller than you, and not to mention the facial hair he boasts..."

Harry kept his eyes averted, but found himself inwardly seething that even someone as intelligent as Severus couldn't see through the lies that both Oliver Wood and Viktor Krum had successfully painted for the public. "Just as you and the rest of the public surmise," he muttered before he could stop himself.

"Harry, if there's something troubling you, now would be the time to discuss it. Remember, I'm just here to help you," Severus told him.

Harry looked up, wanting to say something, when his phone suddenly went off from within his bag. "Sorry," he said quickly, and went to answer it. "It's important," he said as he saw that it was Blaise's name popping up. "Can I have a moment?" he asked.

Severus spread his hands. "By all means," he said, getting to his feet and crossing the room. He opened the office door and stepped out into the hallway, leaving the door a crack.

"Hey," Harry said into the phone.

"Hey, sorry about this," came Blaise's reply, and he truly seemed apologetic. "I know that this is probably a bad time..."

"No, it's not a bad time," Harry assured him, not wanting there to be bad blood between them, after all Blaise had done for him. "I'm just in that meeting I told you about."

"I miss you," Blaise said sarcastically, as he always did whenever they'd parted ways in person since they'd become partners.

"I miss you, too," Harry told him with a laugh.

"Hey, did you talk to Sirius and Remus about this weekend, about what we talked about what to do after we have dinner?" Blaise asked him.

Harry nodded, then reminded himself that Blaise couldn't see him. "I did talk to them, yeah, and they said that you were welcome to come to Grimmauld."

"Draco's been going on about the place for years, so I'd love to see it. But I also want to show you mine as well..."

"Yes, or yours, too, they just want to meet your mum first," Harry assured him.

"And my dad, I hope," Blaise said with a laugh. "I guess you're starting to understand how parents are, now that you're with them..."

Harry chuckled at Blaise's words. "Yeah, I know how parents are; at least, I'm starting to figure it out," he continued with a laugh. "All right..."

"Hey, did you check with them about coming to my match before you head home?" Blaise wanted to know, as he was very passionate about his football.

"Yes, I'm coming to your match tomorrow after class is over."

"You'll be there to cheer me on," Blaise went on, overtly gushy.

"Stop," Harry went on, laughing along with Blaise.

"You're getting so much better in physics," Blaise assured him. "I think you're kicking my arse when it comes to answering lecture questions."

"No, you're better," Harry replied.

"Hey, my mum is calling me to watch the girls before the dinner rush at the restaurant tonight, so I've got to get off."

"All right. I'll see you tomorrow in class," Harry replied.

"Back at you, Harry," Blaise responded.

"Bye," Harry said, and cut the phone call.

Severus walked back into the office then, and Harry very nearly flushed as the man looked him over, but found that he was perplexed when he merely returned to his desk without peppering him with questions as to who had been on the phone. "So, how are your classes?"

Harry blinked, taken aback at the change of pace, but straightened up in his seat, hoping not to get into too much detail. "Fine, thank you."

"Did you inform Sirius and Remus about your little detour a few weeks ago, with Draco, Mr. and Miss Weasley, and Hermione?"

Harry nodded, still slightly resentful at the notion that he'd been backed into a corner for taking a mental health day for the first time in his life. "I did, yes."

"How did the conversation go?"

"They got me a puppy!" Harry exclaimed brightly. "Her name is Hedwig, and she's an Irish Setter," he went on, noting just how shocked Severus seemed by this turn of events, and knew that there would be words shared between him and his carers.

~*~

Blaise's match against St. Paul's School had gone swimmingly on Friday evening, and Harry had even been permitted to invite Blaise around to Grimmauld Place afterwards. Blaise had called his folks and they'd permitted him to stay the night, with Sirius and Remus ordering the boys a couple of pizzas and allowing Blaise to sleep in Sirius's brother Remus's former bedroom. It had been thoughtful on Blaise's part to pack an overnight bag beforehand, which his parents had handed over to him upon the conclusion of the game, along with the permission to stay with Harry that night at the Black family home.

"Am I correct in presuming that you seemed a bit distracted during the match?" Harry asked Blaise as they sat in Regulus's bedroom, after Sirius and Remus had gone to bed, Hedwig asleep between them.

Blaise flushed to his ears and immediately shook his head. "No, of course not. Why would you presume something like that?"

Harry smirked, and noticed that Blaise was considering throwing a pillow at him. "Well, because you seemed to be staring at McLaggen pretty often. You even missed a couple of passes during the match because of it."

"I most certainly did not!" Blaise cried out indignantly.

"Oh, well then," Harry said, grinning at him, "perhaps we had better call McLaggen and ask him why he things you were staring at him. Mooning, I believe, is the correct term..."

"All right, all right," Blaise said, managing to reach out and get Harry's cell phone away from him, although his flush didn't diminish. "I was...mooning...after Cormac..."

"Cormac, eh?" Harry asked, his eyebrows going up and down in a dramatic fashion. "Well, then, Blaise, explain it to me."

"Look, only my parents and my sisters know," he whispered, hunching his shoulders. "They know about me being gay."

"Who cares if you're gay?" Harry asked, and Blaise's dark eyes shot up to meet his. "Sirius and Remus are gay, and I'm gay. Nothing wrong with it."

"Wait. You're gay?!" Blaise demanded, eyes appearing as if they were in the process of popping out of his head, and Hedwig lifted her head, roused out of sleep, and looking between the two of them.

"Of course I am," Harry replied with a laugh. "I've known for years that girls didn't do it for me in that way. There's a difference between finding someone attractive and being outright attracted to them. For example, Emma Thompson is a beautiful person, but you don't see me writing her all the fan letters in the world, asking her for dinner."

"Isn't she married?" Blaise quipped.

Harry laughed. "Yeah, I think so, but that's not important, because it's a hypothetical. Anyhow, if you fancy Cormac, you don't need to worry about a thing. I won't be blathering to the entire school that you fancy blokes. It's your decision to tell people, if that's what you eventually want to do, that is."

"I'll think about it," Blaise replied.

The following evening, Harry, Sirius, and Remus followed Blaise's directions to Sienna's Sorridere, his mother's restaurant, located about ten minutes away from the school. It was built with rich red-tinted cocobolo wood, and had massive windows, adorned on the inside with red velvet curtains. From the outside, Harry could also detect circular booths along the walls of the restaurant, with elegant tables dotting the rich wood floor, and expertly-cut crystal chandeliers adorning the ceiling, intermingled with paintings reminiscent of Raphael, Botticelli, da Vinci, Titian, and Michelangelo.

Sirius and Remus handed their keys to the valet before heading inside, and Sienna Zabini herself greeted the four of them.

"Thank you so much for taking care of my boy," she said politely to Sirius and Remus. Sienna Zabini was beautiful, with Italian-tanned skin and engaging brown eyes, along with long, black hair which she kept flowing down her back. According to Blaise, she and his father, Luca, had married young, meaning that Sienna was only in her mid-thirties now. "It's a pleasure to formally meet the both of you," she said, and Harry was shocked when Sienna readily hugged both Sirius and Remus, who didn't seem to mind at all.

"Pleasure to meet you, Sienna," Sirius said, mid-embrace.

"It smells delicious in here," Remus reported once Sienna had let Sirius go and had moved on to embrace him.

"Thank you so much for saying so," Sienna replied with a beam. She immediately turned to Harry then, but merely put out her hand, knowing that, based on Harry's experiences within the care system, he likely wouldn't wish to be so embraced by a perfect stranger. "And you, young man, must be Harry," she said warmly, and shook his hand with both of hers. "Blaise has spoken so highly of you, and I'm always so pleased to meet one of his friends."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Zabini," Harry told her, finding that he seemed to like the woman immediately, due to her warm demeanor.

"Oh, love, I'm not that old," Sienna said with an elegant laugh, squeezing his hands a final time before letting him go. "Call me Sienna, please."

"Sienna," Harry said, and Blaise knocked his shoulder slightly.

"Now, come along, my dears. You all must be famished," she said, and led them to a circular table towards the kitchen, where the smells intermingled and intensified. "Luca should be here shortly. I'm afraid a case of his ran a bit later than he originally expected, but he is on his way, never fear."

"Where are the girls tonight, Mum?" Blaise asked.

"Your nonna is watching them at home, love," Sienna told Blaise with a smile. "Don't worry, I'm sure they'll be well looked-after." Sienna waited until Sirius and Remus had slipped into the booth, before showing Harry and Blaise to the one next to it. "Well, my dear boys," she said as she gathered a bunch of menus, and handed two to Blaise and Harry, plus a pair to Sirius and Remus, "I suppose you'll be all right?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, Sienna. Thank you."

"No problem, my dear," she said, and slipped into the booth opposite Sirius and Remus.

"Want to know the specials tonight?" Blaise asked Harry.

Harry grinned at him. "Sure."

"Tortellini with prosciutto, truffle risotto, Bistecca alla Fiorentina, chicken parmigiana, and Bottarga," Blaise told him expertly.

Harry's mouth watered. "Sounds enticing," he said.

"Each entrée comes with an option of soup or salad, and the staff provides homemade garlic bread for the table," Blaise went on. "Then, of course, you'll have to have room for dessert. I always do," Blaise said with a laugh.

When the waiter came by, Harry opted for the chicken parmigiana, while Blaise selected the tortellini with prosciutto. They each ordered a lemonade with their dinner, and Harry chose the Caesar salad, while Blaise chose minestrone soup. Harry and Blaise discussed their project at length, but decided to participate in the following week of lecture via Mr. Quirrell before they decided on a final aspect to use as their mid-term.

Harry enjoyed his entire meal, and met Luca Zabini beforehand, and he could clearly see that Blaise took most of his looks from his father's side of the family. Luca was very accomplished in his chosen field, and seemed as warm as his wife when it came to demeanor. He sat with Sirius and Remus as his wife had done, but would constantly turn around and smile whenever he heard Harry and Blaise laughing together.

Once their entrées had been cleared and Blaise was eating a generous slice of tiramisu, and Harry was having custard zeppole, Harry noticed that Blaise's demeanor had changed. He wasn't upset, that Harry could readily deduce, but there was something clearly weighing on his mind. Harry waited for Blaise to bring it up, as he didn't want to appear invasive, and was rewarded when Blaise had finished his dessert and lowered his fork.

"I have an idea," he said slowly, "but it's mad."

"Tell me," Harry said immediately.

Blaise picked up his napkin and delicately wiped his mouth. "Well, you've correctly deducted that I fancy Cormac..."

Harry smirked. "Wasn't very hard to miss, to be honest."

Blaise rolled his eyes at him, but pressed on, appearing as if he desperately wanted to get something off his chest. "Would you be willing to pose as my boyfriend?" he asked, and Harry's eyes widened. "You know, just enough so that we can gauge if Cormac is into me that way as well..."

Harry swallowed. It wasn't as if he would be betraying Severus, as his social worker had made it abundantly clear where they stood, considering that Harry wasn't due to age out of the care system for another seven and a half months. "All right," Harry replied, shrugging his shoulders at the proposition. "What would I have to do?"

"Hold my hand in public, let me whisper nonsense into your ear. Oh, and we'd have to laugh at each other's jokes."

"Even if they're not funny?"

"Especially if they're not funny," Blaise told him. "I don't know why couples do that. I think it speaks to their commitment or something..."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. From an illogical standpoint if nothing else..."

"Precisely," Blaise said with a laugh. "This also means that you'd have to come to any many of my matches as possible."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Harry told him.

"I'd also come with you to any events you'd want me to," Blaise informed him. "With the holiday season coming up, there'll be a lot of get-togethers. We'd have to be seen at them, just so people know that we're serious about one another."

Harry mulled it over for a moment, thinking it over. "And snogging?"

"If it's appropriate, sure," Blaise said. "We're not into each other that way, so it might take a little getting used to. I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with."

Harry shook his head. "Snogging's fine," he told Blaise. "I don't mind it. Besides, it could be fun, and..." He dropped his voice down to a whisper, knowing that he could trust Blaise with this information. "It just might get the bloke I want to get his arse into high gear, to the point where he might want to be with me, too..."

Blaise grinned. "Who is it?"

"My social worker," Harry whispered.

"Blimey, Harry! That's mad!"

"I know, I know," Harry told him. "Which is why I need you to agree to something."

"Well, since you're agreeing to this charade, I may as well give you something in return," Blaise said, thinking that the entire scenario seemed logical at this point. "What is it?"

"I may have spent the night with my social worker at Draco's Halloween do," Harry whispered to Blaise, and Blaise looked shocked.

"Harry, he could lose his job for that," Blaise whispered.

Harry nodded at him. "Yeah, I know. We were both drunk, and we only snogged a few times and slept in the same bed. Key word being slept. We didn't..."

"You didn't shag?" Blaise guessed.

Harry quickly shook his head. "No, we..." He dropped his voice again. "After what I told you happened with Pettigrew, I'm not sure I'd be able to rise for the occasion, so to speak..."

Blaise nodded. "I'm really sorry," he whispered, and gave Harry a tentative smile. "But that doesn't tell me what you want me to do..."

"If anyone asks, I want you to play along, and tell everyone that you were the one who spent the night with me at the Halloween do," Harry said, and Blaise looked shocked. "We can say that we wanted to keep our relationship a secret until we were sure about one another, and it would make for a conceivable timeline. Technically speaking, we've been together about seven weeks, today, as a matter of fact..."

Blaise considered that for a moment, and finally nodded. "Guess we're going all-in here."

"Wouldn't have it any other way. Remember, we have to seem convincing, otherwise Cormac may not give you the time of day."

Blaise scoffed. "I would hate for that to happen."

"You've been waiting for him a long time, haven't you?" Harry asked.

Blaise sighed. "Since we were thirteen," he said softly. "I just don't want to wait anymore. He also got early acceptance into Birmingham, and I would like to think that this means that we've got a shot at a future together."

Harry reached out and took Blaise's hand. "One step at a time."

Blaise flashed Harry a grin. "Don't remind me," he replied jokingly.

~*~

It was a week later that the Magical Kinship Christmas party was a-go, and Sirius and Remus were pleased that Harry was bringing Blaise along as his date. The boys had informed Harry's guardians that they had spent the night together during the Malfoy Halloween festivities, and although momentarily shocked, both men took it in stride and offered support to their relationship, as it appeared to be. Once they arrived at the fostering agency, Sirius and Remus said goodbye to the boys, while Harry and Blaise went to greet Ron and Hermione, Draco and Ginny, and Bill and Fleur.

"Harry! Blaise!" Ron said with a grin; if anyone supported them in the student body the most, it had to be Harry's best mate. "Fred and George are here."

"Yeah?" Harry asked.

"Front and center!" called a redhead, draping himself over Ron's shoulders.

"Don't leave me out!" called a second, and pressed a kiss to Hermione's cheek.

"Oi, George!" Ron cried out as Hermione giggled. "That's my girlfriend!"

"Please," George said, rolling his eyes. "While Hermione is a beautiful young woman, you know I only have eyes for Angelina," he said, and nodded to a young woman across the room, with skin the color of cocoa, who was speaking to Fleur.

"Well, you Fred..." Ron began.

"And you should know well enough by now, little brother, that Lee is the only one for me," Fred said rather sharply, and a man with similar coloring to Angelina stepped forward, and pressed a kiss to Fred's cheek.

"Lee Jordan, partner at Weasley's Nightclub," said the man, and shook hands with both Harry and Blaise respectively. "Hopefully we'll see you there soon."

"Yeah," Harry said, looking over at Blaise.

Blaise grinned. "Absolutely," he replied.

"Christmas is a happening time of year," George informed them as Angelina excused herself from her discussion with Fleur and Bill, and moved to stand beside George, who automatically wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Talking about the club again, love?" Angelina asked, kissing George's cheek. "Oh, you must be Harry and Blaise," she said with a smile, and shook their hands. "Pleased to meet you. Oh, Blaise, I heard you're going to Birmingham next fall."

Blaise nodded. "Yeah, I am."

"Ang is a third-year there," George said indulgently, and Angelina flushed becomingly, lowering her eyes. "She's training to be a nurse."

"You'll have to tell me all about the professors," Blaise said.

Angelina grinned at Blaise. "I'd love to," she replied.

Harry felt a hand on his arm, and turned to see Hermione standing there, and was ushered away by her, while Ginny acted as their cover, likely in on it. Slightly surprised, Harry was led to an empty corridor, and turned to face Hermione then, shrugging his shoulders. "Something on your mind then, 'Mione?" he asked.

She sighed. "Yeah. Something so big that I had to get you away from everyone to ask you a direct question."

Harry blinked. "'Direct question'? I don't understand. What are you...?"

"Stop playing games, Harry," Hermione hissed, looking around as if to be sure that they were truly alone. "I know that you weren't with Blaise that night."

Harry tried to play it cool, but got the distinct sensation that his blood had run cold. "What night wasn't I with Blaise, Hermione?" he asked slowly.

"What other night could I possibly be referring to?" she asked, throwing her arms up into the air in a moment of exasperation. "Halloween, Harry. I know that you were with someone that night, but it couldn't have been Blaise."

Harry clenched his teeth. "You're bringing this up now?" he demanded, fighting to keep his temper with her; it wasn't her fault she was nearly too smart for her own good. "Blaise will be devastated if this gets out..."

"Cut the shit, Harry," Hermione snapped, and Harry's eyes widened; he'd never heard her swear before, and it was a complete shock to him that she would start now. "I know that you weren't with Blaise that night because you're clearly hung up on Severus."

Harry felt himself flush clear to his ears as shook his head. "You don't know what you're talking about, Hermione," he said in a clipped tone, and moved to brush past her, in an effort to get back to the party.

"I know plenty," Hermione replied, reaching out and making a grab for his arm to prevent him from leaving. "Like how you were making eyes at one another on Halloween. Or the fact that I saw you two snogging when I came out from the loo!"

Harry whirled around then, his eyes filled with fear. "You can't tell anyone!" he cried out then, his voice shaking. "Severus could lose his position! Please, Hermione, don't..."

"I've seen the way he looks at you, Harry," Hermione said, her voice far gentler now. "You don't have anything to worry about. He wants you."

"Yeah, but he can't have me," Harry whispered, hating it when tears escaped from his eyes and trailed down his face. "Not while I'm still in care, anyway. Not until I'm eighteen..."

"He'll wait, if that's what it takes," Hermione said gently.

Harry swallowed. "Blaise and I are just pretending," he whispered, and it was Hermione's turn to permit her eyes to widen. "You can't tell anyone. I'm just doing it to help him out, but you can't tell anyone, Hermione, I mean it."

"You and Blaise aren't madly in love?"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "We're just interested in helping the other out. And getting the attention of our true heart's desire in the process."

Hermione sighed, dragging a hand through her hair; she found some tinsel there, likely placed there by the twins, and let out an annoyed sound as she tossed it away. "Well, rest assured that I won't be telling anyone," she told him softly.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

She nodded. "You're welcome."

"There is, however, one thing you can do for me," Harry said softly and, reaching into his overcoat—which he had yet to take off upon arrival at the party—and drew out a gold-wrapped gift with a red silk ribbon. "I finished it," he said. "I finished The Wicked Count and the Trials of Fire," he told her. "I sent it to Oliver a few weeks ago, and he says it should be on shelves by Valentine's Day, as the distributer owes him a favor."

"That's amazing, Harry," Hermione said.

"It's an advanced copy," Harry explained.

She nodded with a laugh. "Somehow, I figured that out."

"You're meeting with Severus this week, right?"

Hermione nodded a second time. "Yeah, I am. Doubt he remembers, what with the influx of children that come along during holiday time... God knows I was one of them," she whispered, but shook it off. "Yeah, I'm meeting with Severus. Why?"

"I want you to bring this to him," Harry said softly, handing over the gift. "I don't want you to say specifically who it's from, if you can help it, although I'm sure he'll figure it out."

Hermione sighed and took the gift from Harry. "Yes, I suspect so."

"He knows, you know," Harry said softly, and Hermione raised her eyes to his.

"Knows what? That you love him?"

Harry swallowed. "I do love him," he admitted, "but he also knows that I'm Linfred Hardwin, as he may have stumbled into the manuscript in my bag on the night we spent together," Harry told her, trying to keep it together.

"Oh, Harry..."

"I just think that maybe I'm too far gone," he whimpered, hating showing his emotions like this, but also knowing that Hermione would understand.

"Too far gone?" she asked. "What are you...?"

"I just think that maybe he won't want me, based on what happened to Pettigrew," Harry said quietly, and Hermione immediately wrapped her arms around him. "I'm broken, 'Mione. I'm so broken, and I can hardly expect someone as good as Severus Snape to even attempt to pick up the pieces the way I need him to," he said, and continued sobbing as Hermione held him close, whispering soft words of encouragement into his ear, to the point that they were so distracted that they didn't hear the footsteps behind them.