blaise zabini

Astoria tried to avoid hyperbole when unnecessary, so she could admit to herself that she could indeed think of places she would less rather be than enjoying a private dinner with Blaise Zabini…but it certainly didn’t rank at the top of her list. “Oh go on, you’ll have a grand time and you know it,” Draco had said when she’d tried to convince him that if he couldn’t keep their dinner date, neither of them should. “Besides, it would be just too wretched for  Blaise if we both cancelled.” Astoria wasn’t sure that her husband was right about either of those statements…but on the other hand, perhaps it was long past time that she and Blaise learn to get along properly.

Or perhaps it wasn’t. Astoria smiled sweetly and replied, “I would bet on Draco’s parents against any fire that dared show its face in their home uninvited and I fear that the plants I grow are a bit too sturdy to wilt over a single missed watering, but your concerns are deeply appreciated.” She picked up her salad fork. She couldn’t possibly leave now – not because of the salad, but because leaving in the face of Blaise’s jibe would have felt too much like a retreat. Which meant that she would need to make conversation instead… “I’ll be sure to pass them along to Lucius and Narcissa. They’ll be so thrilled to learn that you haven’t stopped speaking to Draco again. They did so pout the last time, you know.”

Oh yes. It wouldn’t be a conversation with Astoria if she didn’t manage to drag in his old dirty laundry with her husband. Everyone else had gotten over the slight blip in their friendship. Draco himself had an unspoken understanding of why Blaise had to do what he had to do. He would’ve done the same if he had been in Blaise’s shoes, as would have any self-respecting Slytherin with any sense of rationality and self-preservation. Astoria was clearly none of these things. 

“Yes kindly do pass on my regards to Lucius and Narcissa,” Blaise said easily, his smile growing wider in response to Astoria’s own sickly sweet one. “And I’m glad to hear that you’ll be staying to finish our meal together. The Malfoys must be thrilled to have the manor to themselves for a night. Three can be a crowd I’m sure, and it’s always nice to get some alone time with family.” Even when Draco was present, Blaise had no qualms about making pointed remarks about how he felt about his friend’s marriage. As far as Blaise was concerned, Astoria Greengrass was an absolute nobody before she weaseled herself into the Malfoy manor and she was still undeserving of the name. Sure Blaise had landed himself an unfortunate marriage partner as well back in the day, but his wife hadn’t costed him galleons on buying herself useless trinkets. The most expensive thing she ever cost him was her funeral. If he had known that his friend would go off and marry a Greengrass during his absence, maybe Blaise would have stuck around just to prevent this travesty. 

Blaise had been promised an exquisite four course meal and Draco’s company, a rare honor these days apparently. The only caveat to these dinner plans was that his old friend insisted on inviting his wife tag along as well. There was also the unfortunate fact that five minutes after Blaise arrived to the restaurant, he received an owl informing him of Draco’s last-minute emergency at Hogwarts that rendered him unavailable for the evening. Something about a third year who swallowed some toxic concoction of potions on a dare. So now here he was, seated across Astoria Malfoy with her husband nowhere in sight.

“Well this is nice,” Blaise drawled as he picked at his salad. “I don’t suppose you have a sudden emergency of your own to attend to? A fire at the Malfoy Manor, perhaps? Or a plant you forgot to water?” 

Blaise’s personal assistant had many responsibilities. She was entrusted with shifting through his mail, turning away unwanted visitors to his office, and keeping an ear out for any gossip traveling within the Ministry walls. Perhaps the most important part of her job however, was keeping an extensive list of birthdays of every important person in the wizarding world. She then was to remind Blaise of upcoming birthdays, and Blaise promptly sent out impressively expensive gifts every year as a token of his friendship. The latest recipient of such a gift had been Angelina Weasley, Captain of Puddlemere United, and a Weasley. Unfortunately, that meant something good in this day and age, so of course she was on his list. This year he had sent her a goblin-made set of silverware shaped like little broomsticks. 

And now here she was, poking her head through his office door. “Angelina, what a pleasant surprise,” Blaise said with a smile, immediately putting away the papers he had been pouring over for the past hour. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked, fully aware of her coming answer already. To thank him for his generous gift of course. This was precisely why he spent his galleons on expensive birthday gifts. 

When his one o’clock meeting got cancelled, Blaise decided to take advantage of his suddenly free afternoon by dropping in on Draco at Hogwarts. The lengthy and repetitive meetings he had to sit through lately, all of which he spent trying to explain to the idiotic good-doers why Cerberus was a bad idea while maintaining a polite smile on his face, were exhausting. He jumped at the opportunity to rant to Draco, forgetting how petty that man could be. Draco had insisted he didn’t have time for lunch or even tea, and that Blaise should have owled ahead; he couldn’t simply show up and expect Draco to be free. But why not? It wasn’t like Draco had back-to-back meetings all day with important Ministry officials. What could possibly occupy his afternoon when he didn’t have classes to teach? A third year who wanted extra credit? Or extra tutoring sessions for an especially simple-minded Hufflepuff? 

Blaise settled into a seat at the Three Broomsticks by himself and saw a familiar face. Speaking of simple-minded Hufflepuffs. “Ah, Zacharias. It’s nice to see an old friend.” Old friend. A generous title for their almost nonexistent relationship. Blaise simply wasn’t friends with the likes of Zacharias Smith. The man was a Hufflepuff for Merlin’s sake. And anyone idiotic enough to not take advantage of multiple generations of gold sitting in their Gringotts account lost all form of respect from Blaise. And to be a bartender of all things, at the place they used to hang out as teenagers. Pathetic. “I’m here to grab a quick bite before I head back to the Ministry. Is there anything you’d recommend?”