20 Feet { Blarry }

chapter 6

"Do you have any idea what he might want?" Blaise whispered into Harry's ear as he walked next to him beneath the Gryffindor's invisibility cloak.

Harry shivered as Blaise's warm breath grazed his ear. How the boy could accomplish that through the material of the cloak, Harry had no idea. He cleared his throat and fought valiantly against a blush. He shook his head and murmured quietly because there were still many students milling around after dinner, "No. He alluded to private lessons, but I can't imagine what that might entail. All I can say is it's about damn time."

Blaise smirked as he watched Harry unabashedly; he gave the slight boy his undivided attention as he looked down at him. Harry's indignant scowl that bordered on a pout was too sweet. If Blaise hadn't spoken to Harry about this previously and understood just how frustrated Harry was about the dearth of formal dueling training, Blaise would doubt the sincerity of his anger. That expression was really charming. Blaise scarcely watched where he was going as he followed his partner to the guardian gargoyle. He easily sidestepped and averted human obstacles and statues with surprising ease.

In the few days they had spent stuck together, Blaise and Harry had become exceptionally spatially aware of the other, despite one of them hiding beneath Harry's invisibility cloak majority of the time. The Slytherin stepped up behind Harry and leaned over his back, dodging a group of Hufflepuff girls. The way they were giggling and staring at Harry, Blaise figured they were first years. "Acid pops," Harry intoned when they reached the gargoyle. It slid aside and revealed the spiral staircase that led up to Dumbledore's office. Blaise straightened up and looked around the eccentric man's office.

The air was teeming with magic and the excess made Blaise's skin tingle like it did every time he entered the room of requirement. Considering the large number of magical items scattered haphazardly about the room, it was no surprise. The Slytherin wondered how the Headmaster could stand to be in the room for hours on end; that amount of the magic concentrated in such a small room was suffocating. That was one of the reasons old wizarding families tended to have large properties and manors. Certainly, it had to do with their desire to display their wealth and live in opulence, but before that, in the distant past, wizards and witches desired more land and larger homes to disperse the magic of their items as well as the magic naturally released from their core. "Ah, Harry my boy," Dumbledore said, sitting behind his large ornate oak desk. Harry nodded,

"Good evening Headmaster."

"Would you like a lemon drop?" Blaise stood still, hovering just beyond Harry's left shoulder blade while the two others sat and exchanged pleasantries. If he shifted half an inch, he could brush the Gryffindor's body. As it was, he didn't even shiver and maintained complete control over his body. Dumbledore didn't seem to suspect his presence in the room, but he couldn't be sure, so he didn't want to bring any unnecessary attention to himself.

"Before we begin," Harry said, drawing the Slytherin's attention from his surroundings, "I would like to ask you to not ever remove any of Sirius' or the Black's belongings from Grimmauld Place without my permission from this moment forward," Harry said, surprising the Headmaster and startling many of the portraits with his cheek. Never had a student entered the headmaster's office and thought to give the Supreme Mugwump orders. Blaise gazed upon Harry with pride and small smirk; he was happy that the Gryffindor was asserting himself, and the boy looked damn good while doing so.

His eyes were blazing with determination and his body taut with indignation. Harry wouldn't give an inch on this matter. Across the room, Phineas Nigellus Black regarded the young man with intrigue. He stood boldly before the Headmaster, defending the Black house and holdings stanchly, and he was a Gryffindor no less. He snorted. The previous heirs of his were a disgrace, but it seemed this last one - Sirius, named after Phineas' late brother Merlin rest his soul - had done the family a favor and chosen an heir with more promise than himself.