Blaise Zabini

I couldn't be anything that I didn't wanna be It's stubborn as hell or a problem with authority 'Cause it won't mirror your image of masculinity Oh did I disappoint you? Sorry to disappoint you What will you do when the vultures come for you? Will you run and hide? And now we're breeding a feeling of animosity Our thoughts are tribal, go viral and now it's deafening Oh how we're loving the comfort of pack mentality The news has teeth and it eats and eats and eats ya So are you scared of your introspection? Why could that be? Oh, maybe you object to what you find there And as you stare into your own reflection What do you see? Your black hole for a soul

So how's it being a prisoner of your own illusion? Up on a pedestal reveling in your own confusion I see you hide behind your alter or your constitution But you can't live forever In your own echo chamber And you're so scared of the people up in your fairyland But how can you hate something you don't even understand? Oh, you're a walking contradiction in a MAGA hat It's where I wanna be God bless the land of the free

So who are you to tell us where we do and don't belong? And who are you to tell us who to love and who to not? Because your mother told ya you would win when you were young Oh it's a boys wonderland, we know it now

But now the liberals aren't liberal, they're just as venomous! And you can't have an opinion unless you're one of us! No second chances, you're branded, your kind are dangerous!

We're bringing each other down We're tearing each other down

So have I gotta kill myself to be original? And if I fucking hate you all am I a criminal?! Can you afford to be an individual?

“It wasn’t the whole reason but I thought I might as well take care of some business while I was there. You see I was in depserate need of a break and soem sunshine. Working at the Minsitry has just been so exhausting,” Daphen complained with a slow sigh. She’d almost broken a nail before her vacation from opening her drawers at least six times. The horror! But that’s what she got for storing documents inside her desk, next time she’d move them on top of the workspace next to hers. The one that the new employee sat at. It’d make things easier to find. 

“I think things went well, Maman seemed convinced and I’m sure they won’t settle for Ria to be stuck in an engagement anymore. She has nothing to worry about, she’s just a worry wart. They’re happy she’s found love with an international quidditch player.” She smiled as he dug into his memories, giving her the full schedule. Their friend group, though fractured, seemed to have at least some people participating. “Well if she kills someone it’s probably justified, Pansy wouldn’t do that unless it was absolutely necissary. Don’t think I’d want to know about it though, then they might use me in a trial.”

-

“Fuck,” he spilled, having an epiphany. “I don’t want to be used in trial either. Perhaps I’ll give Pans a hand in the shop next week. Chartreuse. She really hates that colour. I think it’s lovely.” He tapped his cheeks. “Fits my complex.” He 

“Tell me about it,” Blaise sighed. He wanted to have a break as well, yet he did not have one during his visit to France. He’d been looking forward to some sunshine as well, yet every beam of light seemed off somehow. Maybe because deep down he knew what was going to happen if his mother was to marry this man. 

“Well, that’s great!” He smiled at her, deep relieve washing away the worry down his back. He cared for Astoria in such a great way - something that actually seemed rather impossible for a person like himself. He nearly choked down on his breathe when Daphne suddenly spilled some tea about Astoria’s new lover. His eyebrows raised in surprise and he cocked his head - almost lost for words. He did not expect her to share such information. Hell, Astoria did not want to tell him. “A quidditch player? Who?” He was too eager to know. He loved gossip. And this was friendly gossip. He’d find out one way or another after all. 

Theo tried to keep up with what Blaise was saying but, in all honesty, he was unable to follow along with most of it. Every person had the same reaction. Though, after running into Astoria, it was all starting to add up. “I didn’t…” Leave. He didn’t leave for good. He was offered a mentorship. A break from the Wizarding World and his life for a few months. A chance to remember what was truly important, his work. Not romance or whatever you would call his time getting caught up in the whirlwind that was Daphne Greengrass.

Still set in not arguing, he simply nodded. It wasn’t a terrible secret that Astoria and Blaise had formed a very close friendship. “I’ve already seen both Astoria and Daphne today.” Theo admitted. His face still blank as he inspected the rows of ingredients beside him. “I hope you’ve been well, Blaise, but I need to get back to the shop.”

-

Blaise scoffed, clicking his tongue as Theo tried to make his leave, and blocked his way to keep his company. “Not so fast, Nott,” Blaise said, a little smirk inevitably visible on his face. “I did mean to threat or offense you. Simply trying a chit-chat.” He wrinkled his nose a couple of times, trying to keep his nose from itching, and placed his hand against the wall so he could lean into him. 

“What about we have a walk? Or perhaps get a drink? I could also come with you to the shop? I would like to bring up some memories. Merlin, I haven’t seen you for ages!” He bumped his shoulder with his fist as if he tried to punch some courage into him. “We should catch up. We are friends after all, right?” 

His words were based on a lie. They barely ever talked during their time at school. Blaise had been a secret admirer - strongly attracted to a boy he rarely ever spoke to. It had been devastating, hiding in the dark whenever Nott and Malfoy fooled around in their dorms. It sounded creepy, really, but he did not have a choice. They shared rooms together. He couldn’t simply leave. 

He could’ve told him about his feelings, but refused to. Too afraid to come out of his magical closet. He still was. It had gotten worse when Daphne and Theo started dating. You’d expect he’d grow over it, but he didn’t.

❀

“They may keep coming back but as long as I don’t sell what they want, I’m still okay. Their money is as good as anyone else’s.” The waiter came by and she ordered her usual chicken dish and another bottle of wine. If Blaise got the first, she could at least get the second. “And old money tends to be thrown around more. I’d rather it be thrown at me than other people.” She took another sip of her wine before grabbing one of the rolls. 

“Gringotts on fire? That sounds like a story worth hearing.” Her eyes were bright as she spoke, hoping for some good gossip. “Do tell your mother I say hello. She and my mother must be on the same writing schedule. She keeps telling me there are some lovely wizards she could introduce me to if I come to France. That woman is determined to have me married and I will not have any of it.”

-

“You’ve got a point there,” he laughed as he watched her order the usual. “Still. I did not expect you to handle this so well. Don’t get me wrong, but you are quite a bitch sometimes, Pans.” He winked at her, meaning no harm. It was true after all. He could remember her going absolute nutty if something started to irritate her big enough. 

“Yes, you’ve heard that right.” He grabbed his crystal goblet to empty it in one big chug. He needed it tonight. “Ah, she’ll love that. I bet she still hopes we’ll end up together one day or another. She has quite the thing for you, you know?” Probably because Pansy reminded her of herself. They were both feisty, though Blaise knew she wasn’t close to being like his mother. His mother was a leech. A dark entity. He always claimed to love her, but this feeling has started to grow less and less at the minute. Maybe because he finally acknowledged none of her personal believes and morals were true. She was selfish and vein - and Blaise was raised as one.

“I definitely will.” She promised. Astoria was glad that Blaise seemed to come around on muggle things. It was her latest assignment at work and she didn’t want to disappoint Mr. Weasley by failing and not figuring out how those CD players worked. Astoria didn’t know a muggleborn she could ask, so she supposed researching in books was the way to go here. 

“It is not as easy as a woman. I believe I have told you that.” Was her reply a small smile playing at her lips, they hadn’t spoken about this subject a lot, as Astoria was known to change the subject once it turned to herself. Talking about herself made her uncomfortable. “They couldn’t have forced me per say, but I didn’t want to disappoint them by saying no. I wanted them to be proud of me.” Astoria looked down at her hands with a sigh. “I don’t feel comfortable talking about it. Not yet.” Susan and Daphne knew, but she had not told anyone else. 

-

A deep sigh spilled from his throat. It always made him a little agitated whenever he discussed women’s rights. Love was very important to him - probably because he never had his real father in his life and his mother was a leech. If Blaise was ever to have a relationship with a woman - something that wasn’t likely going to happen - he would make sure she would be treated like a queen.

“Disappointed,” Blaise scoffed. “Bollocks. Malfoy is a friend, for sure, but I hate his family’s guts.” He looked at her, trying to come at ease. He was getting oiled up for something that wasn’t even really his business.

“Sweetheart. Everyone is proud of you. I sure as hell am. You are such a strong, talented woman. It took a lot of guts to speak out and you did it anyway - with a little help of your friends, of course.” He gave her a wink. He felt a little hurt once she told him she wasn’t comfortable talking about her new lover yet, but could definitely understand where she was coming from. It took him years to finally come clean about his sexuality and Astoria seemed to be the only one to know so. “Well, I’m here if you want to talk.” He took another sip of his drink, suddenly again in thoughts. “Am I weird for never being a relationship before?”

Draco resisted the urge that he got to roll his eyes at Blaise’s response. Naturally, Draco wasn’t a fan of anyone who had their nose in other people’s business even if they were a friend. The blonde kept to himself, so he wasn’t exactly aware what others were doing at all times. He narrowed his eyes at Blaise, before replying, “So what? I spent long enough in the public to learn that I still am not a fan of most.” He wasn’t a fan of the people who still claimed that he was a death eater. Or the people who looked at him in shock and horror that he was somehow allowed to roam the streets. 

“Is there a purpose to this, Zabini?” Draco asked, annoyance edging in his voice. “If I wanted a therapist, I’d go see one.” He wouldn’t. He usually relied on his own coping mechanisms which included drinking alcohol and using his occlumency.

-

“No reason,” Blaise responded, sinking back into his chair with his drink in his hand. He looked at him as if he was searching for an answer. A deeper meaning. Though they pretended to be friends and share every-day stuff together, the both of them barely knew a thing about each other (nothing they told each other in confidence anyways). The reason why Blaise knew things was just because everyone knew them and he happened to be close to the Greengrass family - if just enough to get to know some details. It was funny, actually, and almost sad. He claimed to know everything about everyone, and sometimes this was true, yet he could never open up about his own life to a single soul. Not yet anyways.

He suddenly seemed to have cut the bollocks and readjusted his position. The alcohol had made him a little cheeky, but he did not want to get into a fight. “Just fooling around, my friend,” he replied with a pensive manner - having a forced little smile on his face before he took another sip of his whiskey. 

“We never really talk anymore,” Blaise suddenly spilled, staring at the blonde. “Not that we ever did. We were more of a gang, weren’t we? We didn’t talk. We just did.” He seemed almost a little sad. He was lost in thought, thinking about their days at school.

“No I didn’t hear anything, of course I was in France for a while as well. Did Ria tell you I went to go talk to the family about her engagement?” She asked. Blaise was better friends with Astoria than he was with her so Daphne just assumed that her sister mentioned these types of things to him. Daphne would herself if they’d ever run into each other but they were both busy doing other things. Daphne trying to forget their mutual friend that dissapeared back at the end of fall and Blaise charming people so well. 

“Oh I’m so honored,” she giggled, a blush spreading across her cheeks. These were the type of fun conversations she missed and so desperately craved. This is why Daphne always thought Blaise had been a fun time back in school, he knew how to let loose, he knew how to make their little friend group less gloomy. “Besides France nothing much. Went to the holiday celebrations with G and did a little shopping. Have you been in touch with Pansy lately? I haven’t seen her around either. I miss you both, we need to have a get together.”

-

Blaise shook his head as his eyes went up to the sky - cursing his empty shell of a head - and he clicked his tongue. “You’re right. Ria did tell me. In fact we talked about that just a few days ago. I totally forgot you had to go to France for that.” He wanted to slap himself against the head. Lately his mind did not seem to be his own. He was often found lost in thoughts and seemed to forget a lot. Instead of brewing a love potion he perhaps needed to make something for his head instead.

“Please tell me,” he continued with eager and concern. “How did it go? Astoria seemed alright, but I could tell she’s concerned.” Once she mentioned the lot of them coming together any time soon a smile graced his lips. He agreed. They really did need to have a get together. “Ehm,” he started - closing his eyes for a second as if he had to think real hard. “I had dinner with her on Sunday. She’s fine, apart from the fact that she’s close to becoming a serial killer. She loves that shop of hers, but it’s going to end bad if the same retarded costumers keep coming back.” He knew this would never end up in murder, yet he did believe Pansy could eventually snap and perhaps have a beetroot shoot out of someone’s arse.

“Yet, please. How did it go with the engagement? I came back from France just a few days ago to find out what was going on. I knew Astoria didn’t agree on the marriage, and I encouraged her to use her voice.”

The generations of prejudice weren’t an easy feat to overcome. Purebloods from their circle were brought up with some kind of superiority complex where they were told from a young age that they were better than muggles and muggleborns. Due to the fact that Daphne was so favored by her parents, she never developed that kind of superiority. Her parents weren’t as purist as some other families as well, so that aided to it. “It is fascinating, I can tell you more about it once I have fully figured it out. It will take me some time, I believe, because it seems rather intricate.” At least he wasn’t fully renouncing the idea of such a CD player. That seemed like a win in Astoria’s mind. 

When he mentioned Draco her demeanor was quick to change as she felt uncomfortable with the subject and the entire situation. “My parents are going to try to come to an agreement with his. Daphne said she’s feeling rather hopeful about it.” Astoria wanted it to go well, but she was afraid of hoping and getting disappointed.

“Please do,” Blaise replied. Though Blaise used to be in favor of supremacy - purebloods (and for the love of Merlin, no muggles) he’d been trying to be more open minded, if just for Astoria. He also started to realize muggleborns weren’t as bad as he thought. He experienced so first-hand when he had a summer fling with a young man - muggleborn - in Spain this year. Obviously he was yet to tell Astoria so. 

“Well,” Blaise started slowly, moving his hands to emphasize his words, “that is something. I just want you to know you have all the rights, like I already told you.” He smiled, reassuring and comforting, and placed his hand onto her arm for a short period of time. “And it’s going to be alright. Nowadays they can’t really force you. Not anymore. It’s ludicrous.” He grabbed his drink to take a little sip. “Now, to discard emo-boy... Do tell me you’ve found someone?” He smirked; crooked, naughty. “Give me the juice. Who is it.”

Romilda’s frowned slightly as she woke to someone gently touching her, she already felt a headache coming on. “Mmm” she grumbled “Stop it, that tickles” she said, burying her face back in the pillow for a moment. 

She turned her head to look at her bed-mate. Blaise, they’d hooked up a few times now, it was always good of course, otherwise Romilda wouldn’t have gone back. “I can’t get enough of you?” she asked, closing her eyes again to combat the sunlight shining in. “You came back to my apartment. I think you’re the one who can’t get enough” she mumbled. “I don’t remember you taking much convincing anyway.”

Blaise rolled his eyes once she came with her statement and pulled the pillow from under his head so he could place it on top of his face instead. He groaned softly, slipping his hand under the pillow to massage his temples. “Guilty,” he muttered - his voice muffled. “Maybe we shouldn’t have drank as much, though.  I can hardly remember a thing and I swear I can feel my brain crumble.” He pursed his lips, squinting his eyes together - empowering the pain in his head - before he pulled away the pillow and rolled on his side.

He crawled towards Romilda, lifting his hand to trace the silhouette of her stomach and waistline with the tips of his fingers. “Wait. You had to convince me? If just a little?” He chuckled under his breath. “Meaning you initiated it after all.”

“Chartreuse is a terrible color, Blaise. Absolutely terrible. Only a few people can pull it off and trust me, she could not.” She reached for the bottle on the table and poured herself a glass. “The lace was bad enough.” She took a big sip before speaking once more. “It ended as it always does. I smile, say I will do my best and then get something close that isn’t an abomination. I refuse to let my shop be known for anything like that.” She shuddered before finishing her glass, pouring another one. 

Already feeling herself calm down, she smiled over at her friend. It was quite easy to relax around Blaise. He truly was one of her dearest friends. “How about you? Anyone make you question your own sanity today?” 

-

Blaise rolled his eyes, still smirking ear to ear, and clicked his tongue as Pansy expressed her feelings about the colour chartreuse. “Well at least we agree on one thing,” he muttered in between her talking. He looked at his plate, watching the greens go from one side of the plate to the other - obviously because he was pushing them around with his fork - and nodded slowly as she continued. “And... scene! Pansy saved the day once again.” He winked at her. “If you keep smiling they intend to return with more hideous requests. Just saying.”

He finally took a bite of his greens and now grabbed his knife to start digging into the meat. He paused the cutting when she asked about his day. “Of course,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes again. “Every day. My mother send me an owl, just to ask me again if I intend to return to France any time soon.” He exhaled deeply. “And I want to set Gringrotts on fire.”

Back to England, back to work, and back to errands. Theodore had, as always, done a good job at hiding in plain sight since he had returned. There were some people he couldn’t escape from, Draco due to living with him or his employer due to Theo needing an income. Still, a day trip around many of Diagon’s shops wasn’t something he enjoyed on a normal day. After an educational trip and much needed social sabbatical, it was more worry inducing than normal. 

Perhaps it had been the lack of interaction with other members of the British Wizarding World. South Americans were much more direct. Hands on. Or maybe it was the years of knowing the other man. When Blaise, who Theo hadn’t even noticed (And if that wasn’t a sign that he wasn’t ready to come home, what was?), bumped into him, he barely hesitated in grabbing for his wand and muttering a cleaning charm Blaise’s way. “Excuse me.” He agreed, not quite too sure if it was indeed his fault but arguing was never worth the trouble. Especially in the face of an attitude. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

-

A small cut on the inner side of his thumb allowed some of his blood to spill. He grunted softly - his low, edged voice squeezing through his flatly pressed lips. He wanted to push away the submissive young man, yet waited once he drew his wand. Only a few seconds later he recognized the boy’s face, causing a mixture of anger, annoyance and fear to wash over him. Theodore Nott. One of his biggest crushes during his time at Hogwarts; the boy that managed to slyther into Malfoy’s bed. Oh, how much he’d wished to join them - yet fear and shame always had a hold on him. It still did.

“It appears so,” Blaise replied snarky as he pulled himself together. “You.” He looked down on him. “You’re back.” He clenched his jaw, remembering all too well how Astoria hated the guts out of him after he left Daphne without a word. “What a pleasant surprise.” He seemed sarcastic, yet had to hide a sudden rush causing his heart to rise. He briefly sucked on his thumb, putting the stuff he was planning to buy on a nearby counter, and cursed under his breathe. Ouch, he thought,  might have hit a nerve.

“I hope you’ve braced yourself? The Greengrass family is on fire. They won’t be too keen on you returning.”

She couldn’t help but bristle under his dragging gaze. At least he didn’t appear to be checking her out, just sizing her up. Gabi was well aware how little she looked, just 5′2″ petite and blonde, and she wasn’t unused to getting underestimated or written off. Even through her embarrassment she stuck her chin out and squared her shoulders. Gabrielle would not let her size get the better of her.

“Oui, c’est moi. You are not French, but you ‘ave been.” She guessed. Not many wizards seemed as enamored with her country as Muggles were, but she knew people did dream of the south of France. “You must know my sister, Fleur? She was our Champion. In zey tournament.”

She could salvage this conversation, she could. Just… just talk about something easy. School. Her sister. His very nice abs. Maybe not that last one. Gabi could make this work.

–

“Very good,” Blaise smirked modestly. “Just returned, in fact.” He watched the girl, moving in her way - a small, blonde woman full of energy. There was something about her. He could use her well. He raised his brows at her question, nodding in return. “Miss Delacour. Of course. Mesmerizing performance. I remember her well. Beautiful lady.” just not his taste, at all. “As are you.”

He pursed his lips as he wandered off in thoughts, if just for a few seconds, and he titled his head - his devious idea growing bigger in his mind. He chuckled, once again, slapping his hands together with a small bow. “Again, I’m so sorry for-” he brushed the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, “for my inappropriate behavior. I shouldn’t have been so rude. Would you like to grab a drink so I can make it up to you?”

Draco took the firewhiskey that the bartender placed in his hands and took a long sip of it. He wasn’t one for talking about himself and he knew that this conversation was going to take a lot from him. Why not indulge? Placing the glass back upon the bar, Draco turned his attention to Blaise as he spoke. They’d been good friends during their time at Hogwarts, but like Pansy, Draco had pushed him away when he began being recruited. 

“I’m glad to hear that you’re well,” Malfoy murmured, tracing the rim of his glass with his fingertip. Blaise asked him how he was and he nodded, “I’m fine. I’m working at St. Mungo’s as a healer.” He rose an eyebrow, “I’m not sure that I look any different than I did before.” 

“I know,” Blaise smirked, giving him a small nod to initiate he was proud of him. “I’ve had my eyes and ears out for you. You are a friend, Draco. Nothing you do stays a secret to me for long.” It almost sounded like a threat. He chuckled softly at the blonde’s confusion and have him a shoulder pat to reassure ease. “You are creeping back into your own little space. I’ve noticed.” He grabbed his fire whiskey, taking a royal sip. 

“Tell me. What’s the matter?” He talked a little more firm - his low voice was sprinkled with a little mischief - and he staged a dramatic voice. “Who hurt you this time?”

@mrzabini​

“I love my shop, I truly do,” she said as she sat down across from Blaise. It was their weekly dinner and Pansy had shown up late. Not too late, mind you. But enough to bother her. “But if one more mother demands that it’s my fault their precious daughter cannot find the ancient style they’re looking for, I’m going to scream.” She sighed dramatically slipping her jacket off. “She wanted chartreuse high necked dress robes with lace. Chartreuse.” 

Blaise swore he could feel his eyes burning. It had been either a lack of sleep, or an allergic reaction to whatever he’d been harvesting this afternoon. He’d used a special charm to stimulate the grow of his herbs, yet the fire whiskey could’ve made his work a little sloppy. He blinked heavy, raising his brows as Pansy spoke (not in surprise, but in order to keep his eyelids from dropping), resulting him to quickly gulp away half the content of his glass of red wine.

“I’d say: curse them,” Blaise responded dryly, holding out his pinky while he swirled the red substance in his crystal goblet. He sucked in a large amount of air, leaning back in his chair - a smirk playing his lips. “Chartreuse. A lovely colour.” He clicked his tongue. “Lace? Too much. You are worrying about chartreuse?” He chuckled and there was a small pause.

“So? How did it end?”

“Pardon?” Daphne asked as she twirled around, wrinkling her nose at the smell around her. She wasn’t much of a garden person and despised the thought of digging her hands into the soil. Isn’t that what poor people did? 

Still, she wanted to get herself some flowers to brighten up her apartment, maybe even as a gift to her sister for how things were going recently. That was when she had bumped into Blaise completely unaware, as usual, on the fact that it was her fault or she had caused any inconvenience. “Oh Blaise!” she exclaimed, a smile gracing her lips. She’d always enjoyed her former classmate, he was close to Astoria, Pansy, and Draco after all and those were Daphne’s best friends. “It’s been a while, where have you been!”

-

Blaise could’ve used a massive face-palm once he realized it had been Daphne to walk up against him. Would he ever learn to be less rude? Less defensive, at least? “Oh, Daphne.” He sighed somewhat relieved. For a second he feared she would question what he was up to. “I’m-” he wanted to apologize but couldn’t squeeze through her talking. He sucked his thumb, realizing the cut wasn’t that bad, and managed to grace her a smile as well. 

“An awful while, yes.” He signed the employee to wait with his order and put placed his gathered materials on the counter. “I’ve been to France,” Blaise continued. “Didn’t no one tell you?” He frowned somewhat surprised yet couldn’t really be bothered. “Family business. I would’ve stayed there celebrating the holidays if it wasn’t for you.” He winked at her in a playful way. He obviously didn’t stay just for Daphne. His other friends were one of the reasons too. 

“What have you been up to in the meantime?”

Early beams of winter sunlight kissed the young man’s temples as he laid in bed. He was barely covered. The sheets no longer covered half of his body, and his chest seemed to have drawn little blood. He groaned at the disturbance of light, his pupils dilating as he tried to open them. His eyes were heavy, as his head. The reek of liquor lingered in the bedroom he was in; which wasn’t his own. He pursed his lips, trying to come to senses. For the love of Merlin, where was he? Once his eyes managed to adjust he raised his hand to stop the single beam of light from entering his pupils. Bloody fucker, he thought. A crack in the curtains had awoken him from his slumber. His hand accidentally brushed along another being, and he remember. 

A smug smile appeared on the man’s face and he leaned above the girl accompanying him in bed. He kissed her upper arm, stroked his fingers through her hair, brushed the tip of his nose along her defined jawline. 

“And yet again we meet,” he snickered as Romilda woke by his touch. “In your bedroom.” He dropped himself back onto bed, stretched out as he watched the ceiling. “You can’t get enough of me, can you?” He was bathing in complacency and narcissism - enjoying the aftermath, no matter the fact he preferred the touch and attention of a man in secret.