❛ i hope they have pudding! ❜

        pansy often talks at him  .   at  ,  of course  ,   and rarely with him  .    in fact  ,  almost all of blaise’s conversation   —   or rather  ,  interaction   —   were that way  .  he understands why it’s easy though  ,  for people to just speak at him without expecting some coherent respond  ,  formal events excluded  .   he was always a quiet child  ,   obedient when it mattered  ,  and speak only when he’s spoken to  .  father were rather fond of this particular behaviour  ,  blaise remembers   ,   and perhaps that was the reason he had never changed his pattern  .   though that thought seems ridiculous  .   how can he be insinuating that he was expecting father’s approval still when he knows deep down father has passed away  ?    again  ,  he repeats  :  ridiculous  .    but fact remains  ,  it’s simple for people to talk at him  ,   and for him to remain quiet when they do  .   he wouldn’t say lovegood’s any different presently   ,  but   …   it’s nice that she’s reacting appropriately  ,  and considering his suggestions thoughtfully   .    she doesn’t have any reason to  ,  not one blaise would normally think  ,    yet she stays  .

    what an odd girl  ,  indeed  .

         ❛     quite .    ❜     blaise answers  ,   not bothering to comment on her choices of not eating specific food  .   mother went through periods before where she swore off meat as well  .  it’s not uncommon  .    ❛    my house elves are better  ,  i’m afraid  .   mother has specific tastes  ;  they’ve never failed to meet her expectation even once  .    ❜     it seems silly  ,  a little  ,  to boast about house elves and their culinary talents  ,   but lovegood’s pauses and little silences have allowed blaise to carry on with the conversation  .  it’s different  .    ❛    you should try a sweet mother loves  .   she picks the recipe up from southern east asia  .   indonesia  ,  perhaps  .  or maybe it was malaysia  .   sago pudding  ,  it’s called  .     ❜    blaise ,  himself  ,  is impartial with sweetness  .   he would rather taste them in wines than meals  .   he doesn’t know why it’s a little surprising to have learned lovegood might like sweets  ,  though  .   it makes her seem  …   ordinary  .   traditionally girlish  ,  almost .   blaise couldn’t help but have his expression softened  ,  just a bit  .

       the gift is given a glance at her offer to help put it on.   blaise lets himself think  .   he cuts his fish  ,   chews   -   lets her wait  .    when he swallows  ,   it’s easy to wipe whatever remnants of the food which may have lingered around his mouth away with his napkin  .    ❛    perhaps a little help wouldn’t cause any harm  .    ❜    he gives out blankly  ,   eyeing some fruits and casting them in front of him  .   ❛    i’d like them under my robe however  .   to have them be a distraction otherwise wouldn’t be an option  .   i hope this doesn’t offend you  ,  lovegood  .     ❜

          for a moment, luna sat quiet while watching blaise as he spoke. there was no part of her in the least surprised that he came from a family with house elves. then again, she couldn’t particularly judge given that the meals she ate daily were created from the hands of incredibly skilled house elves working in the castle. ❝ they sound rather talented, that’s exciting! ❞ she concluded, strangely biting her tongue from expressing her real opinions. ❝ did you know that house elves are particularly skilled painters? i have a lovely canvas painted by one on my wall at home. i’m not too sure what it’s supposed to be but it relieves melancholia. my dad always said that he believed things touched by house elves are gifted with their own magic. so i like to think the house elf wanted me to be happy. ❞ despite talking of a fond memory, luna’s voice remained in the usual dream like, slightly monotone state it normally dwelled in, although her face lit up slightly with a soft smile and the widening of her pale eyes. ❝ perhaps your house elves wish you to enjoy your meal enough to give it some magic too? ❞

          making a mental note of the suggestion, luna cocked her head to the side to watch blaise again. perhaps it was a trick of the light from the ever changing ceiling, but luna was almost positive that, at least for a moment, blaise looked slightly more relaxed and perhaps even approachable to anyone else. it was endearing really. she was only torn from her thoughts when he spoke once more, the smile illuminating her face once again. ❝ of course not! it’s best not to clue the nargles in to being warded off. otherwise they may target your personal belongings. they have a strange love of quills lately. i’m finding it rather difficult to complete my essays when my quill nibs keep disappearing. ❞ without so much as a pause, luna shifted from sitting on the bench to kneeling and leaning over the table, ignoring all sense of table manners and earning her quite the looks from the ever growing crowd of hungry students enjoying their breakfast.

nimbly, she took the charms in hand and carefully pulled at the collar of blaise’s jumper before pinning the smallest charm under the collar of his shirt. similarly, she skillfully let her fingers work at a loose knot, ensuring that the bracelet was snug against the skin so it wouldn’t slip from under concealment but also extremely comfortable. a look of pride crossed over her face at the hidden placement, assuming that blaise would approve of it himself. ❝ there! ❞ she declared, ❝ just as inconspicuous as always. ❞ the larger of the charms, a length of shoelace and broken cork captured in a strangely magnificent necklace of sorts, lingered in her hand as she continued debating on whether the smallest charm would be adequate enough for now. her eyes narrowed as she observed her handy work, sitting back against her heels on the bench. ❝ that should keep you safe for now. once it starts to run out, then you’ll have a replacement. ❞ with that, luna took the length of shoelace in her fingertips, letting it dangle out over the plates before grabbing blaise’s hand gently with her free one. slowly, she let the charm wind in a coil into his palm before sitting back completely with a hum, eyes falling to the plate in front of her new friend.

      should the encounter with lovegood brought upon changes into his life   ,   blaise does not realise any    ———     his morning afterwards were the same  ,   and the interactions he’s had with his fellow slytherins remain short and were mostly only exchanged out of necessity  .   perhaps   ,   to any other teenage boy  ,   such a solitary way of living might seem lonely  ,   but for blaise  ,   it serves no difference than the life he’s been living at home .    sometimes he wonders which may be worse  :   to be at home and were only properly acknowledged whenever momma’s done feeding from the attention that were generously given by her strings of husbands   ,   or being at hogwarts and would only be called whenever the groups here needed an extra lavish name to exert more of their superiority  .    no matter  ,   he decides finally  ,  because whatever the answer to that question may be   ,   blaise knows one thing for certain  :   that as long as he keeps himself secured   ,   clean  ,    then he can make it too.   can make it in this life  .   and if need be  ,   he can extend whatever safety net he’s garnered to pamper momma  .   the woman’s method may not be convenient   ,   but she had done it to protect blaise    ———     and thus  ,  he is in her debt   .   and that  ,   of course  ,   must be repaid  .

       the gift sneaking into his peripheral view is what made him finally blink back to look at what utter nonsense he now has to deal with today   ,    until his sun-golden eyes blink back to the pair of hands it’s attached itself to.   pale  ,   thin  .   blaise imagines why he even bothers to be surprised   -    not that he’s expressing such shock like he probably should’ve  ,   but he does takes his breath with a little vigor than normal  ,   as though embracing himself with whatever challenges he’s to face.   but it seems like it’s just a present  .   how surprising  .   blaise recalls the last time he’s been given something as a gift that isn’t related to his birthday or one where mother isn’t involved  .   he can’t quite think of any  .   ah  ,  perhaps the napkin his last step-father presented in a panic when mother asked if he’d brought anything for her darling child since he was so willing to bring her so many things  .   blaise remembers forgiving the old fool   -    what?   he gave him silk  .   lovegood took a seat   ,   and should somebody from the table are whispering and giggling about it  ,   blaise pays no attention  .   he’s above them  ,  after all .    ❛    protective purposes.     ❜

       it’s a question posed as a statement   ,   but he accepts them nevertheless   .   his long  ,  thin and dark fingers appear nearly foolish to be paired with such a   …   cheap thing  .   in any other times  ,  he wouldn’t even dare to lay his gaze upon such objects   .    even consider them as a mockery to the advancing society  .   but then again  ,   to be given a gift  -  and something hand-made as well  .   this is new  ,  indeed  .    ❛    your mother seems wise  .   though i quite have no idea what on this possible earth you may be conversing about  ,  lovegood  .     ❜     he could ask about the shoes  ,  demand them to be returned now that it clearly being held as a decorative item   (   though blaise is quite aware lovegood isn’t about to prance around in his much larger oxfords less she intends to fall down every three steps  )  ,   but all he does instead is slide the charm near his plate  .   and he gracefully picks up the utensils he’s been using to continue finishing the rest of his meal  .     ❛    thank you.     ❜     what an odd day .    ❛    you should try the fish  .   it’s quite delicious  .     ❜ 

          ❝ oh! you know, you should always eat fish from the head to the tail! ❞ luna offered with a soft smile lifting her features, removing the slightly vacant expression she normally wore as her eyes settled on blaise. ❝ it brings good luck. ❞ as an avid researcher of superstitions - whether from the wizarding world or the muggle one - luna had collected a good few habits in her lifetime in regards to the mundane things in life. her attention then moved to the fish in question, eyebrows furrowing slightly. ❝ although, i’m afraid i don’t really eat fish. or meat. often, anyway. i’m sure it’s as exceptional as always, however. the house elves are marvellous chefs, aren’t they? ❞ 

          without considering the confused and frankly insulted stares being thrown her way, luna shifted to grab a slice of bread from the platter with a fond smile. if blaise was inviting her to eat with him, then it was the least she could do to avoid being rude. it never crossed her mind how odd the sight of her at the slytherin table - and making herself comfortable there - would be for everyone else. briefly, she had considered ginny being slightly upset at the prospect of not spending breakfast together like usual. however, she had yet to spot the brilliant red hair. as her thoughts returned more to the present, luna’s gaze gaze fell upon blaise again, while she began pulling little bite sized pieces of bread from the slices. ❝ i’m far more partial to the sweets, ❞ luna admitted, moving again to grab a bowl of butter to allow her to butter each individual piece of bread in the small pile she had created in front of her.

          ❛ Not exactly. ❜  A set of glasz hues danced with amusement as Kurt was briefly reminded of his dad’s first real encounter with magic. Growing up the only son to a Muggle father and having spent at least half of his life outside of the wizarding community, there was something eerily amusing about the two worlds in comparison. One strangely comforting, the other forever filled with wonder, enchantment —- endless of possibility. His mood lifted in an instant despite the mercilessly cruel task at hand their potions professor had bestowed upon them.  ❛ Try cars, ❜  he explained, wand once again at the ready as he continued to try feverishly for the desired outcome.  ❛ I … can’t say that I have. ❜  

     ❛    i simply do not speak if i do not wish to.     ❜       is what blaise is willing to offer,   his tone careful from having his annoyance leaked at her presumption on his   —    well,  his anything.    perceptions are such fickle things.   blaise hates that human’s natural curiosity often leads people,   even himself,  to judge so quickly and definitively.    but he understands that it could not be helped in some cases.   many often thinking he’s quite deeply thoughtful mainly because he doesn’t voice the voices in his head aloud?   are just a few things he’s to face and hear once in a while.   and yet,   even with all of the questions and now advices,   none really has stuck long enough to pry more.   to learn more on why blaise is the way he is.   he has long given up on the reason why,   but just faces reality as it is:   the world isn’t his friend.   blaise ever doubts it will be.  still,  her promise on the walls’ not bearing helpful advice does lift an amuse curl to the corner of his lips,   just the tiniest one,   when he stands with socked feet as the only barrier between him and the cold floor.   she’s funny,   he thinks simply.    ❛     oh,  i would imagine so.     ❜

          her thank is short,   quick.   and the nod blaise gives is entirely formal,   a pureblooded trait that’s born half from manner and half from the habit of always entitling himself with some sort of faux-seniority.    ❛     i do not expect the shoes to be returned.   keep it.     ❜     blaise considers adding how he wishes for her to mustn’t lose what he’s given out of his rare moment of kindness so easily,   but in the end holds his tongue from speaking them so.   if they’re lost,  they’re lost.  another thing that cannot be helped.    blaise,   as foolish as it may sound,   can only hope for the best.     ❛    i shall take my leave for tonight,  lovegood.   i believe you must know your way to the ravenclaw tower?     ❜    and suddenly the distance between the two houses of blue and green are obvious and plain in blaise’s knowledge:   while the ravenclaw seeks the night of the sky,   the slytherin finds solace in its comforting house under the lake.   he is certain then,  that they would meet not unless another coincidences are on their side   -   and blaise is shackle with a hesitation of figuring out whether that’s a good thing or otherwise.

          while she supposed the more normal thing to do would be to argue about keeping the shoes - which were clearly well made and not old like her own that she kept for sentimentality - luna merely smiled at the sentiment. they were big on her feet, possibly would make walking back to the ravenclaw common room a little bit trickier than just wandering barefoot. but the chill that had been like ice running up her legs had subsided and there was a pleasant warmth radiating. the realisation had pulled her attention to watching the shiny leather ripple slightly as she wriggled her toes, almost missing blaise’s parting statement in entirety. in fact, when she did look up from her new-found cosy feet she could only see the blaise moving around the corner of the corridor. the entire conversation had surprisingly left her feeling rather energetic and pleased, which was unlike her usual run ins with slytherins or anyone outside of her immediate friendship circle. with a sharp turn on her heel, luna trudged - thanks to the shoes that were much too big and too loose - back towards the ravenclaw entrance to scheme up a perfect thank you.

         it took her minimal time to pull the gift together; the laces of the shoes blaise had gifted her were perfect in forming a more masculine style of charm. while her father appreciated wearing the same butterbeer cork charm as she did, she’d realised after gifting ron something of the same that he didn’t seem to actively wear it. slightly late, but not all too hungry, luna found herself skipping through the doors of the great hall with determination on her face as she passed her usual place at the gryffindor table and headed straight towards slytherin. thanks to the later hour, it wasn’t quite as bustling as she’d known breakfast to be. however, had she been paying attention, she would have noticed her spritely attitude attracting a little attention and curiosity as she stopped proudly in front of the slytherin table.

while not entirely something he himself would have gone out to search for himself, harry could not deny that it was perhaps the most thoughtful gift he could ever hope to get, right behind molly’s annual sweater of course. he allowed her to remove them from their place, assuming he was to hold out his wrist and doing so. “ wow, luna, that’s - you made these? that’s incredible. ” tugging at the notch of his tie nonetheless, he attempted to soothe the heat creeping up his neck, spreading through his cheeks at a rapid pace. “ the nargles are the… which ones are they again? the ones who - steal things? ” at times like these, times when he had the chance to be present in a conversation without his mind wandering to the next emergency or mission he’d have to undertake, he wished he could keep the terms straight. he wished he listened better. he vowed to someday. “ oh, yeah, that sounds - really sticky. but i do appreciate you, going through the trouble. i - well, i didn’t get you anything though. ”

      is your owl okay                 well,  considering he was asked,  quite in the middle of the night he daresay,  that perhaps the answer is obvious.  now normally,  chalking this whole interaction to simple stupidity or an irritating encounter would’ve been easy   -   but the idea that loony lovegood might find familiarity instead in those thoughts rather than the usual offence people often wear around him drains blaise completely of his effort to voice his opinion aloud.  so silence, he remains   -   with  his back straight,   hands tidied in the confines of his pocket while hooded golden eyes give nothing away to entertain her with an answer.   sing?   he doesn’t snort,  though inwardly,  he’s making a huge effort to.  blaise is tempted to just walk away.   

     and he’s quite about to,   hadn’t it been for her attention quickly snapping back to him,  which is odd considering most of their short-lived conversation had been her eyes on anywhere except on him   (  not that that’s such a change,  with how many step-fathers who’re too busy drooling over mother rather than to pay attention at the sole zabini heir  )   -   and then there’s the  …   peculiar necklace that she pulls out.   while nothing much has change to his expression,  the yellow flecks in blaise’s sun-coloured eyes do flicker;   twinkling in some aimless hope to rival the stars.   it’s ridiculous.  absolutely nothing she speaks make any sense nor does it contribute in any way to blaise.   and yet not once does blaise interrupt her.

      he’s never been the type to, anyway   -   or perhaps loony lovegood isn’t so annoying as he originally perceives her to be.    the mention of shoes finally coax a proper reaction out of the dark-skinned man when one of his brows raise nearly skeptically and   —   oh.  there it is.  shoeless feet,  indeed.  charming.   blaise wonders half-heartedly if he should inform this incident to momma.  she’d enjoy a laugh.    ❝     i quite doubt it was any invisible creatures’ fault that you’ve gone barefoot,  ravenclaw.     ❞     an almost sigh,  and blaise,  with all of his poise,  plucks his own shoes from his feet,  tucks them near till the edges of the soles bumps against her toes.  it’s a good thing blaise is quick to cast some temporary warm-inducing spell against his own socked feet.  perhaps he will inform mother of this.    ❝    have mine in the meantime.     ❞   monotone.  flat.   not an drip to his tone suggest blaise he truly cares for her being  -  and yet he stays by his knees,  waiting for her to ever so grace him with her feet so he may slide his far-too-big oxfords like a prince would,  perhaps,  in those silly stories blaise hears muggles entertain themselves with.

          ❝ i would hate to blame fellow students for such things, ❞ luna responded simply, wiggling her toes against the cold stone of the castle floor. more often than not, she’d spent time getting used to her feet being cold. it made the end of the day, where she could sit by the common room fire and let the heat seep back into them all the more pleasant. otherwise, it was particularly freeing not to have to consider shoes as part of her outfit for the day and allowed her a little more creativity. her eyes were more permanently fixed on blaise with sheer curiosity as she watched his expression change slightly, the glints in his eye, the way his body language changed. part of her believed he was, in some way, troubled by something. of course, she didn’t know him well enough to decipher too much - well, she didn’t know him at all - but people always gave off vibes enough for her to get a general sense.