Blaise nodded, swallowing hard, and whispered, "Okay."
                              
"What was that?" Marcus spat, torquing his neck up to stare at him. Flint was nearly two feet taller than him.
                              
"Yes."
                              
"Yes, what?"
                              
"Yes... Master," Blaise said, the word still sounding strange. He didn't like it at all. He wasn't comfortable with any of it.
                              
"Good boy," Flint said, mockingly and tapped his cheek twice before pushing him toward the hospital wing.
                              
The matron was nearly beside herself trying to get him to say anything, but he followed Flint's orders. She threatened to tell the Ministry and explained that he was too young to be engaged in that kind of sexual activity. He just repeated that he had done it to himself. She said she had to report it. But he never told her anything. She reluctantly let him go, but he came back two hours later, bleeding profusely, again. 
                              
Blaise cracked open his eyes, coming out of the dream. His heart was pumping quicker, but otherwise he didn't react to the dream. Marcus had controlled him with impunity during his whole third year. Investigators and mind healers came and went, but Blaise always said the same thing. He was not a snitch. Once he was free of Flint, it didn't take him long to realize that he had lied to him. About everything. There was no elite club or power-hold. It was just Flint, intimidating the fuck out of everyone. He felt used. Abused. Played. He was more pissed and embarrassed than anything else. He believed Flint, let him treat him like a pet dog. 
                              
He couldn't believe that he was so stupid to believe him, but Flint had been a master of manipulation. He wasn't surprised in the slightest when Marcus became a Death Eater. He even had the gall to send him an invite to a party last year. He sent it back with a curse that would have made him yelp. He didn't try to contact him, again. Despite his abilities, Blaise never sought retribution. He was so ashamed of himself that he wouldn't have been able to look him in the eye.
                              
Blaise had been so mentally jumbled, after Flint and the other seventh years had left. Flint's teammates remained though. Derrick and Bole had stayed another year. Miles, Pucey, Warrington and Montague longer. But none of them tried to do anything like Flint had. None of them made him prove anything and they didn't control him. Miles and Warrington were still assholes, though, but nothing compared to before. Of course, Draco taking over helped. The power shifted right at the end of their third year. Draco must have figured out what Flint was doing to him... beyond normal sex and relationships. 
                              
Draco had gone to the quidditch parties, too, but never, as far as Blaise knew, was invited to Marcus's private bedroom, which he had no right to have. He had made the first and second years room together to have it. But Draco was smart enough to see the results of the nights of rough sex. Draco tried to convince him not to go to the parties and to stop seeing Flint, but Blaise didn't want to make Marcus mad. Draco was punished severely whenever he tried to interfere with Marcus or trying to stop Blaise from going. Blaise always went, regardless, and paid for that choice.
                              
But the last game of the year, when Slytherin lost to Gryffindor, Draco had grabbed him and dragged him away from the Slytherin dorm. Blaise was shaking, knowing how pissed Flint would be, for the game and if he went missing, and he tried to break free. Draco disarmed him and then forced him to drink a potion. He immediately became light-headed and nauseous. Draco pulled him to the hospital wing, in time for him to throw up in front of Madam Pomfrey. Draco convinced her to hold onto him overnight. Blaise tried to argue, but he had a high fever, too. The matron all but strapped him to the bed. Draco had merely told him that "You'll thank me tomorrow. Stay here."
                              
Blaise was fretful and afraid all night, but was very much relieved of the ready excuse to miss the downer party. Flint was brutal was he was mad. Draco must have known that. But Blaise didn't want the help or understand that he needed it. Looking back, he regretted one thing. He missed Draco's showdown with Flint. Theo came the next day to check on him at Draco's bequest. They weren't as close to each other at that point. But Theo had more emotion than Blaise had ever seen in him before as he recounted what had happened in their common room in great detail.