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Slytherin Cunning

Summary:

Blaise/Ron: Being a Slytherin means you have to know how to get what you want.

Work Text:

Title:  Slytherin Cunning
Author: Makoto Sagara
Series: Harry Potter
Archive: The usual suspects; anywhere else, please ask first.
Category: drabble, slash
Characters/Pairing(s): Blaise/Ron, Harry/Ron, Draco/Harry
Rating: PG
Warnings: slash, sneakiness, language, ooc, EWE, post-Hogwarts
Disclaimers: I don’t own Harry Potter. No copyright infringement is intended nor is any money made from this piece of fanfiction.
Words: 1618
Prompt: Fandom: Harry Potter
Blaise/Ron: Being a Slytherin means you have to know how to get what you want.

Author’s Note: So, I posted a request on livejournal to jumpstart the creative juices after working so much. This was requested by my lovely friend, Skeren Dreamera.

~ * * * ~

He’d watched the redhead closely since the end of the war. When he and his best friend, the Saviour of the Wizarding world, joined the ranks of the Aurors, Blaise hadn’t really been so surprised. Everyone expected that of Potter, and it wasn’t as if Weasley was going to be that far from his best friend. However, what really surprise the dark-skinned, former Slytherin was when Potter and Weasley went public with just how close the two of them were. The news that the third member of their trio had moved to Australia heartbroken that followed closely after the story was leaked to The Daily Prophet, with Ginevra Weasley, was a bit anti-climactic.

It was then and there that Blaise decided he was going to get what he’d wanted since sixth year at Hogwarts. And for that, he’d have to enlist the help of a certain former housemate, but his request would have to be worded just so.

~ * * * ~

“I fail to see what is in this for me, Blaise,” Draco drawled from his seat across from his friend. The blond slowly swirled his cabernet in one long-fingered hand as his patrician face slowly stretched into a vicious smile. “Unless, of course, you are planning on doing this publically.”

“It would mean that Potter was free for the taking,” Blaise responded carefully, watching his friend for any reaction.

“That it would, but I fail to see how that would benefit me.”

“Draco, your attempt at nonchalance is disappointing. I’m sure that Lucius would be severely unhappy if he saw you right now,” Blaise added snidely. The way that Draco’s grey eyes narrowed let him know that he’d hit the mark with his comment.

“Fine, Blaise,” Draco said after some long, contemplative moments. “I will help you win over your…Weasley, if only because it means that it would make Potter unhappy and I live to see him humiliated.”

It was as good as Blaise was going to get, and he knew not to push his friend any farther.

~ * * * ~

The two Slytherins started slowly. Blaise knew exactly where their quarry would be having dinner that evening due to a little ‘golden influence’ to a waiter at Potter’s favourite restaurant. So, they decided to invite themselves along. True, it was a little plebeian for either man to attend for a normal reason, but needs must, as the saying went.

As they entered, the bustling dining area was crowded, but a quick glance around showed that booths that ensured privacy were dotted along the walls. A little more greasing of palms ensured that Blaise and Draco got a booth directly behind the two former Gryffindors where they could overhear their discussion with a little help from removing the Silencing charm around their table.

“How much longer do we have to keep this up, Harry?”  Weasley asked, sounding as petulant as a child that had its favourite toy taken away.

“You’re the one who wanted to make Hermione give up and move to be with her parents,” Potter answered carefully. “I just agreed to help you out to get Ginny to realise that I was serious when I told her I was gay.”

“I know, and I’m grateful for all your help, but really, do we have to keep up this farce? Mum asked me last week when the two of us were going to move in and ‘make it official.’”

“Well, at least you didn’t have Charlie trying to give you the big brother talk,” Potter said through snickers.

“Merlin, I think I’d curl up into a hole to die if he did that,” Weasley muttered. Blaise looked over the gobsmacked Draco’s shoulder to see that the redhead was smacking his head against the table while Potter leaned back casually, a smirk that normally would have graced Draco’s face plastered across his normally genial features.

“Draco, I think Potter was definitely put into the wrong house at school,” Blaise whispered to his dinner companion.

“I’m beginning to agree with you,” Draco muttered, his face turning the delicate shade of pink around his ears and cheeks that signified he was aroused.

“The fact that he’s not a goody-goody completely turns you on?” Blaise asked, leaning closer to his friend as he shifted uncomfortably.

“Shut up, you,” Draco snapped. “Let’s not talk about your perversions, Blaise. Red hair? Really? And the Weasel, no less.”  

“Point taken,” Blaise muttered as he replaced the other table’s Silencing charm and checked the one on their own. “So, what shall we do with this information?”

“I have an idea, Blaise, but I need a few days to start my plan.”

~ * * * ~

Blaise was not happy. Draco had been waking him up at six o’clock in the morning for the last two weeks so that they could ‘run into’ the two Gryffindors in Muggle London during their early runs. The only benefit he could find in the torture sessions was the fact that Weasley and Potter were wearing Muggle running wear—tiny shorts that showed off their muscled legs and tight shirts that left nothing to the imagination—as well as good, sturdy Muggle trainers.

After the first week, the two men had stopped threatening to hex them whenever they grew close. The past week, they’d even seemed almost as if they were waiting for the two Slytherins.

However, today, Blaise wasn’t sure if the two Gryffindors were going to hex them or tackle them to the ground for snogging.  He knew which of those options he preferred—Draco as well—but the expressions on Weasley and Potter’s faces were unreadable, if one ignored the pained way they both closed their eyes when Blaise and Draco showed up.

Of course, the fact that Blaise and Draco were wearing similar attire to their running companions might have had something to do with those expressions.

“I just want you to know that if they start throwing curses and hexes, my old friend, that I will be taking out my frustration on you once I’m released from St. Mungo’s,” Blaise said out of the corner of his mouth as Potter and Weasley shook their heads and began running once more.

“Duly noted,” Draco responded before he took off after Potter’s tight, spandex-clad arse. It was an only semi-reluctant Blaise who followed Weasley.

~ * * * ~

Four weeks into the ‘impromptu’ morning jogs, Potter and Weasley had an extremely public row which ended with Weasley ‘dumping’ Potter. It was then that the two Slytherins struck. Draco wasted no time in asking Potter out for dinner and drinks, which the black-haired Slytherindor creature agreed to without hesitation. A mere three hours after his ‘breakup’ with Weasley.

Blaise was a little more discreet. He sent Weasley an owl asking him if he’d like to go to Muggle London for drinks. Weasley declined, citing heartbreak about Harry’s ability to move on so quickly after their ‘relationship’ ended. Blaise responded by saying that he obviously needed a friend to speak to in his ‘time of need’ and that he’d be willing to listen. It took two more weeks before Weasley agreed to see him.

Blaise picked out his clothes with care and made sure that his hair curled just so around his big, dark eyes. He was sex on legs, if he said so himself, when he Apparated to the pub that Weasley had agreed to meet him at. Hiding a sneer of disdain at the commonness of it all, Blaise entered and had to hold his breath.

Weasley was wearing a pair of Muggle pants that appeared to be painted onto the muscular redhead’s legs and arse. He’d paired it up with a shirt that was the same exact shade of blue as his eyes. A few of the top buttons were opened just enough to allow a patch of pale, firm chest to show. A leather jacket made of dragon hide and matching boots completed his ensemble and were the final nails in Blaise’s coffin of restraint.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was towering over the seated man, bearing him down in a heated kiss that practically set the entire establishment on fire.

“Took you long enough,” Weasley panted when Blaise allowed him to breathe once more. “Harry and I were wondering if you two were ever going to make a move.”

“So, the two of you set this up so that we’d do what, exactly?”

“Find your inner Gryffindors, of course,” the redhead answered with a sexy smirk.

Blaise tried to fight the smile that was playing along his lips but gave it up as a bad job and sat down next to his infatuation. “I suppose that answers both of our questions then,” he said as he picked up the other man’s pale hand. “I must ask who helped you pick out your clothes, however.”

“Oh, well, ‘Mione and Gin came over last night when I told them that I was going out with a Slytherin.”

“I was under the impression that you and Granger weren’t on speaking terms,” Blaise said cautiously.

“All for the better of our plan, and so my parents wouldn’t ask Gin about her ‘dalliance’ with another girl before they got married in Australia.”

“Since when are Gryffindors Slytherins?” the dark-skinned wizard asked, stunned at the intricacies of the details of the plan Potter, Granger, and the two Weasleys put together.

“Since we decided we were interested in Slytherins,” his companion said, before pulling him towards the pub’s door with a lecherous look in his bright blue eyes. “Complaining?”

“Not at all,” Blaise replied, allowing Ronald to do whatever he wanted.

Fin.