#blaisezabini

No one was quite sure exactly how you had ended up here. A muggleborn in Slytherin? Unheard of. Literally unheard of. The very night you had been sorted into the house, Draco had owled his father to complain, and found that in the entire history of Slytherin house—a muggleborn had never once stepped foot inside the dungeon.

Now while Blaise didn't particularly care much for the whole muggleborn, mudblood, blood purity discourse. He also didn't really care much for you. It wasn't anything personal. But he wasn't here to rock the boat, and he had no intent of sticking his neck out for some other eleven year old who was clearly just as displeased about being a Slytherin as the rest of the house was with their mere presence.

"I'm not crazy, you just have the emotional maturity of a toddler!" You shout back, crossing your arms from your notably dry position atop one of the emerald green sofas.

"I'll hex you!"

"Not without your daddy's permission, I bet!"

It takes everything in him not to crack a smile at that jab. Even Blaise had to admit that Draco's dependence on his father was a bit embarrassing. Even if he didn't say so himself.

"You assaulted me! I could have died!"

"Prove it!"

Draco is about to spout off again when the dungeon doors slam open and Professor Snape appears, eyes blazing. Even Draco has the good sense to snap his jaw shut. Blaise can't help but feel the tiniest sliver of respect though when he sees, out of the corner of his eye, your chin jut out as you stare unwaveringly back at your Professor.

As it turned out, Draco couldn't actually prove that you'd done anything wrong. Even after Snape took your wand and cast prior incantato on it. You hadn't cast so much as a small stunning spell.

Draco of course had moaned, groaned, and fumed to his heart's content about it, already composing the letter he'd send to his father aloud. Then you'd exited Snape's office, a nasty grin on your face as you approached their group.

"A tip for next time. Breaking a glass window the muggle way doesn't show up on your wand," you'd hummed, skipping past them to your dormitory.

Blaise thought Draco's head might explode.

But maybe you'd survive the snake den after all.

Year 3

The fireplace crackles softly—the only source of heat in the cold dungeons. And the only source of warmth you ever felt in this hell hole. Why couldn't you have been sorted into any other house? You worked a thousand times harder than any other student to prove that you belonged. That the hat had chosen right. Yet you were still the social pariah of the entire school. Blood too muddy for the Slytherins, and too Slytherin for any of the other houses. And is if that weren't enough, you had to hear Draco bloody Malfoy's grating voice echoing throughout the dungeon on a near constant basis. You were about to commit unspeakable—unforgivable—crimes.

"She's using a time turner. Obviously. For someone who thinks he's better than everyone else just because his family is old and inbred, you sure don't seem to know a lot about the magic you care so deeply about," you say casually, not even bothering to glance up from your book.

You hear a snort, a wheeze, and a rather scandalized intake of breath, and can only assume that Draco's minions are staring at you shocked and aghast. Fine. Let them. It wasn't your fault Malfoy had been whining loud enough for the entire common room to hear him. He always had to make his problems everyone else's. Sometimes you fantasized about sending a good silencio spell his way.

"What do you mean, a time turner?" one of them—Goyle you're pretty sure—asks.

You blink once before snapping your book shut.

"I mean Granger is pretty obviously using a time turner to take all those classes. How else do you think she'd be able to appear in two different classes at the same time? And that's besides the fact that she doesn't exactly go out of her way to hide the solid gold chain around her neck that she keeps the thing on. Really. You all have two eyes. Use them."

"That's ridiculous. Time turners are impossible to get your hands on. Not even my father could obtain one without stacks of permits and multiple rounds of ministry interviews. You would know that if your family was anything in wizarding Britain," Draco sneers.

"Sure, because it's so far fetched to think Dumbledore would go out of his way to get a time turner for one of his golden pupils," you reply dryly, not sure why you'd bothered trying to knock some sense into the boy.

"They make a good point."

All eyes snap towards Blaise who's leaned back lazily on his arm chair, expression blank.

"Shut up, Zabini. No one asked for your opinion," Draco snaps.

Zabini doesn't say anything further, but you can see his face harden ever so slightly, eyes darkening. When they meet yours, just for a split second, you see something there. Thoughtful consideration, maybe? Begrudging respect? Or, almost—admiration.

Year 4

The dungeon felt suffocating with all those bodies packed tightly into the common room. After the Yule ball had died down in the Great Hall, students had flooded down to the dungeons where the older Slytherins had stockpiled enough butterbeer and fire whisky to give McGonagall an aneurysm. Everyone was sloshed and so Blaise took the opportunity to slip away unseen into the darkened corridor.

Going to the ball solo had definitely been the right play tonight. Of course he had considered asking Daph, or even Milli during the early weeks of the ball's announcement, but after seeing how demanding they had been of their dates, he knew he had made the right call. There was the other thing too of course, but Blaise tried not to dwell on that particular conundrum too much.

See for some reason, Blaise had gotten it into his head that he should ask you to the ball. A preposterous idea to be sure. It was basically asking to be ostracized by the entire house. But at the same time—Blaise had seen you over the years. Did what he normally did: watched, observed, analyzed. And what he had seen was that you absolutely were just as much a true Slytherin as the rest of them. Maybe even more so. A schemer, truly calculating. You watched everything going on inside Hogwarts' walls and soaked information in like a sponge, picking and choosing which information suited you best. Then you used it all as armor. You had to; and Blaise understood that. Maybe even revered you for it. Because that resilience—that pure penchant for self-preservation—might just be the most Slytherin thing Blaise had ever seen.

Clearly thinking about you so much had been a mistake, because his treacherous thoughts seemed to have materialized your arm pulling him into an alcove behind one of the many paintings lining the corridor. And just as the sound of approaching footsteps began echoing down the hallway. He might be dreaming, Blaise thinks as his eyes adjust to the dimly lit nook. How else would he find himself pressed up against you, the only light coming from a single flickering candle above?

"Shh. You'll get us caught." Your words slur together ever so slightly and Blaise can smell the faint scent of alcohol on your breath.

Great.

Before Blaise can protest, the sound of footsteps grows louder and Filch's voice echoes eerily though the corridor.

"Mrs. Norris—where are you, sweetheart. Come on out now, be a good girl," he hums as he meanders through the dungeons.

That's the least of Blaise's worries however as he feels your heart beating against his chest, your hands clenched tightly around the lapels of his suit jacket, holding him firmly in place. Salazar's ballsack, he needed to think of something else. And quick.

"Where's your date?" he blurts out.

Stupid. Stupid Blaise, stupid.

But then again, you had made quite the splash earlier in the night, gliding into the ball on the arm of none other than Viktor Krum.

You let out a rather undignified snort. Usually Blaise's lip would curl in disdain at such a noise, but for some reason, it seemed endearing when you did it.

"Probably off with Herm-own-ninny," you giggle, somehow managing to pull him closer to you as your forehead rests gently on his chest.

Blaise had never seen you like this. Just how much had you had to drink? Would you remember anything from tonight come morning? He doubted you would.

"And that doesn't bother you?" he asks instead, genuinely curious in your answer.

You shrug, still leaning heavily against him.

"Don't care, really. Just went with him to prove a point to the rest of those nasty Slytherins. Need to pull the sticks out of their arses, the whole lot of 'em," you reply.

Blaise can only hum in response as you gaze up at him lazily with hooded eyes.

"You're really pretty you know. Almost as pretty as this star."

Blaise feels his heart physically stop in his chest. You'd called him pretty. Then his eyes follow yours upwards.

"That is a candle."

"And you are almost as pretty."

"You are very drunk."

You shrug in his arms before falling into another fit of giggles.

"I never claimed otherwise, to be fair," you reply between hiccups.

"We need to get you back to your dormitory," Blaise sighs, trying to shift you upright in the small nook.

"I'm fine, I can get back by myself. Tie my own shoe laces and everything, I'll be fine," you say, pushing yourself away from him and cracking the portrait hole open.

Blaise tries to ignore the empty feeling at the loss of contact. He wants to say something. Anything. How you do fit in. The others are wrong. You're perfect. But no words come and you disappear out into the corridor as the portrait door clicks shut.

Year 5

"Hurry up and get those lions out of the sky already!" Draco shouts, voice barely heard over the strong gusts of wind that had your robes whipping around you as the two of you race through the sky.

The game was long, but that wouldn't be a problem if Draco would actually do his job and catch the bloody snitch for once, you think bitterly to yourself. He was damn lucky Umbridge had benched Potter and the Weasley twins for the season or this probably would have been a blow out match.

It had been a battle to earn your own spot on the Slytherin quidditch team—Malfoy had fought tooth and nail to keep you on the bench as well—but even Marcus Flint had to admit that you were a better flyer than half the current team. Your fellow Slytherins might not like muggleborns, but they did like to win, and so you were begrudgingly given a beater's bat and a spot on the team. You had fought like hell for your place, and you weren't about to let all your hard work go to waste because of some bratty primadonna on a broomstick.

"I don't take criticisms from someone who spent a prolonged period of time as a weasel!" You shout back, sneering at the whiny blonde as Blaise appears next to you.

"It was a ferret! And my father will be hearing about this!"

"You promise? Send Lucius my love," you retort before diving back down towards the pitch, vaguely surprised when Blaise wordlessly takes your flank, leaving his friend behind.

You're very surprised however, to hear Blaise's voice call out to you.

"Ignore him. He can be a bloody arse sometimes."

Your eyebrows shoot up as you turn to look at the chaser in shock. You'd only ever heard him say a handful of words to you over the years. And they weren't usually anything you'd consider positive. They weren't exactly negative either though. Blaise was kind of just—there.

"'Sometimes' is the understatement of the century," you reply icily, turning just in time to see a bludger hurdling towards the two of you.

There's a sharp crack as your bat makes contact, followed by a shout as one of Gryffindor's chasers begins spiraling rapidly towards the ground.

"That's my—" you register a hint of pride in Blaise's voice, a grin spreading across his face, but you don't get a chance to hear the rest of whatever he was about to say as you speed off to find Goyle.

He was never where he was supposed to be. How were you meant to run your set plays when your other half was off chasing invisible nargles? How he and Crabbe had ever gotten anything done on the pitch was beyond you.

"Goyle! Focus! Let's go!" You shout when you finally track the boy down.

You find your way back to the center of the field, intercepting a bludger that was about to take out Pucey and guiding it back Goyle's way. For once, the bumbling oaf is cooperative and deflects the bludger back to you once more as you locate Gryffindor's seeker in the air above you.

"There!" you yell out, gesturing to the streak of red robes soaring over. "On my mark!"

You lob the bludger into the air, giving Goyle the perfect opportunity to go in for the kill. That was your first mistake. You see the outcome before it happens—Malfoy's shadow appearing overhead, seemingly out of nowhere. You watch in morbid awe as Goyle's bat smacks the bludger with a dull thud. You watch as the bludger barrels past you. (You could reach out and redirect it. You don't.) You let it fly past and watch as the bludger makes direct contact with ferret boy and he lets out a blood curdling scream. Wuss.

Despite your seeker's "tragic injury," Slytherin still manages to pull through. Barely. Mostly due to Zabini and Pucey's heroics—scoring a combined total of 300 points. The snitch had barely mattered at that point.

"Shame what happened out there to Malfoy today."

You turn just as you're about to leave the locker rooms to find Blaise hovering just behind you. A dangerous smirk playing on his lips.

"So unfortunate," you reply dryly as he matches your stride.

"Too bad there was nothing that could have been done to prevent it. No one possibly could have foreseen such a terrible accident."

You feel yourself pause for a moment before looking up to see a shit eating grin on Blaise's face and can't help the small smile that begins to spread to your own face.

"I do hope this doesn't end his quidditch career. How could the team ever go on without him?"

It feels strange walking back to the castle and joking with Blaise. But it's also…nice. It's the most normal you've ever felt.

"It was very… Slytherin of you."

You know exactly what he means when he says it and the realization makes your chest tighten. You didn't expect those words to ever mean much to you; you never wanted to be a Slytherin. But hearing them from Blaise? It made your stomach twist and your heart flutter.

Year 6

You've barely had time to settle back into your dorm when your door slams open and Blaise rushes inside, closing the door quickly behind him. The two of you had been owling all summer and you just couldn't ignore the fluttering in your chest seeing him again for the first time in months. The smile on your face fades into confusion though when you see the look of sheer panic in Blaise's eyes. He never let anyone see him like that. Blaise was the epitome of calm, cool, and collected.

"You're not safe here anymore y/n. You need to go. You need to go back home, or somewhere safe, but you can't stay here."

Blaise is rambling now, pacing back and forth rather frantically. It scared you, honestly.

"What's going on? Why am I not safe? What's happening, Blaise?" you ask, grabbing onto the boy's arm and forcing him to turn and look at you.

"Draco took the mark. He said—he'd been given a task. He wouldn't tell us what it was on the train, but whatever it is, it's not safe for you here. Not with one of them in the castle."

"One of them—what are you talking about? Draco has always been a nuisance, but he's not an actual threat—"

"He has the Dark Mark, y/n. He showed us on the train."

You feel yourself freeze as the words hit you.

"No. He's just a kid. There's no way he got dragged into this."

Blaise takes a breath, eyes locking with yours as if to anchor himself.

"Look. The Dark Lord—"

You can't help the way you recoil at the casual way Blaise uses the name, but you can't help but notice the wounded look in his eye either as you take a step back either. Blaise corrects himself.

"He who must not be named is growing stronger by the day. It won't be safe for you here much longer. Please. I need you to be somewhere safe."

The genuine earnest in his voice makes your heart want to melt. You want to say yes, to go home and run from it all, but you both know the answer before you say it.

"I'm not leaving school, Blaise."

Later

The panicked yelling and loud shouts are disorientating as you stumble through throngs of students gathering out in the courtyard. Your eyes scan every face, frantic as you search for him. You should have listened to him. He had been saying this would happen all year and you didn't listen. He of all people knew Draco, and you still hadn't listened.

When the ambush had begun you hadn't entirely believed it. You'd been in the library tutoring first years when the screams had started. You'd rushed as many of the little ones to safety as you could before one of the Professors had grabbed you by the arm.

Their look had said it all. The green robes didn't matter. You were likely a kill on sight. But you had insisted on staying at school.

A yelp escapes your lips as strong arms grab onto you from behind before pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

"It took me so long to find you."

The words are mumbled into your hair and you feel your muscles instantly relax at the sound of Blaise's soothing voice.

"I was looking for you," you reply, turning in his arms and wrapping your own arms around him.

This was safety.

"Please let me take you somewhere safe. They won't go after your parents, but you can't come back here. My mother has already agreed we won't take part in all this. Let me bring you back to Italy. Please."

Blaise's mother had been trying to get him to retreat back to their estate all year. Apparently it was far out of reach for you know who. The Greengrasses were even moving to America for the time being.

You think about the terror you'd felt when the school was attacked; the anxiety of not knowing if Blaise was okay. If you'd be okay. And the decision comes on its own. This had never been your battle to fight.

"Okay."

The response is simple, but to Blaise it's everything as he pulls you closer to him.

"Thank you."

A moment passes as the two of you bask in the feeling of both being alive. Finding each other.

"You know, I think I liked you long before I ever admitted it," Blaise murmurs softly, voice barely loud enough to be heard over the crowd. "My little Slytherin."

Fucked around and accidentally wrote another Blaise fic whoops

Anyways, everyone say thank you to the lovely beta readers @i-await and @luckycharmedpuff 🤍🤍

"good gracious, woman, you're looking dashing today." mattheo said when you walked into the slytherin common room in the morning.

you narrowed your eyes at his weird behaviour. "are you—" your frown deepened. "—are you flirting with me?" you crossed your arms. "stop it, it's weird."

"is it really weird when i'm just trying to tell you how beautiful you look?"

your eyes darted across the room as if to search for something that would explain this very twilight zone experience. or maybe your friends were trying to get a rise out of you once again.

"it's ten in the morning, so if you're doing anything else than shutting up, then yeah, it's weird." you walked up the stairs to leave the common room and walk into the direction of the great hall, mattheo still hot on your heels. "also it's saturday. you normally sleep in until two or something."

"i was waiting for you."

"waiting for me?" you repeated. "are you sick?" you froze in the middle of the hallway, worriedly pressing a hand against mattheo's forehead.

mattheo pushed your hand away with his own, trying to interlink your fingers with his in a smooth gesture.

you pulled away quickly. "handholding?" you took another step back. "what has gotten into you, mattheo?"

"nothing," mattheo shook his head and fluttered his eyelashes at you— you guessed that that was supposed to look cute, but it send shivers down your spine. "i just had a visit from a little friend called armor."

"sure" you nodded unimpressed. "tell you friend to take his medicine."

"your sarcastic energy is killing all the positive feelings." he gestured between the two of you.

"good" you smiled.

"ugh." mattheo groaned. "i'll leave you to it for now, but i'll be back and hopefully you're ready to accept my undying affection by then."

"yeah, hopefully." you rolled your eyes. "i know that i told you to stop doing that, but maybe you should get beaten up to get whatever is loose in your head back in it's original place."

"just love" mattheo muttered, before he turned around and walked back in the direction of the common room.

you looked after him in confusion, before you shrugged, deciding to forget about the thing. it was probably part of some screwed up plan mattheo had cooked up once again. nothing to get angry about.

the great hall was filled with nearly the entire school, loud chattering echoing off the walls as students sat longer than normal, as they had no classes to attend.

"morning," you muttered, sitting down in your usual seat beside pansy. theo and blaise were studying a book about quidditch and draco was pointing out something in the papers for pansy to look at.

your friends returned the greeting.

you reached across the table and grabbed the jam, before you put a big scoop onto your bread.

"very interesting morning so far" theo muttered under his breath and you quirked a brow at him. "did mattheo catch you?"

"oh" you said surprised. "yeah, he did." you averted your eyes, not really keen on talking about the weirdest conversation you had had in a hot minute.

"was muttering something about your eternal beauty." blaise laughed, "some idiot he is, if you ask me."

"eternal what?" enzo asked, just arriving at the table.

"oh, just my sister's eternal beauty that is suddenly so actively talked about." theo muttered with a sharp tone. "any input?"

"uh. y-yeah" enzo nodded, quickly choking down the piece of bread he had started nibbling on. "it's uh- it's there."

"how dashing, enzo," blaise rolled his eyes. "really smooth. i see she's already taking off her shirt—oh, no, sorry, she isn't."

you shot blaise a deadpan look, "you know, blaise, if you spent as much time with your head out of the gutter as you do in it, you might actually be a decent human being."

"touché," blaise raised an eyebrow, smirking, before he returned to his book.

"looks just like me, doesn't he?" your gaze wandered from blaise to draco, who was pointing at a picture in the newspaper— oh no, that was definitely one of pansy's magazines.

"the male model there?" pansy repeated with disbelief.

draco tried to mirror the expression on the model's face. "do i look like him now?" he asked, his eyes jumping between pansy and you, since he had noticed you watching.

"well, you're definitely looking like... something." you winced, a little uncomfortable.

"draco, you don't even have the same hair color as that guy," pansy said unimpressed. "let alone those abs."

"want me to prove it?" draco let go of the magazine and unbottuned the first two buttons of his shirt.

"draco? what the hell?" theo shook his head, chucking the last piece of his bread at the blonde's head. "the fuck you're doing?"

"proving that i'm just as hot." his eyes narrowed at pansy. "if not hotter than this wanna-be model."

"i'm not sure he's just a wanna-be model." enzo corrected, now studying the abondened magazine. "this text here says that he is the highest grossing model of the last year. and that world wide."

theo stared at the magazine in disbelief. “wait, so he’s not just playing dress-up? he actually does this for a living?”

enzo shrugged. “seems like it. and apparently he’s ‘the face of global campaigns’ or whatever.” he paused, squinting at the page. “i mean, who knew?”

pansy’s lips twitched into a smirk. “yeah, draco, not just a wannabe. maybe you should take some notes.”

draco rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort something, but was promptly interrupted by blaise.

"yeah, sorry mate, you look nothing like this guy." he turned his head to inspect the image further. "although, i have to say that he looks a bit like me, don't you think?"

enzo shook his head slowly.

"well whatever." draco closed the magazine with a quick movement. "i look much better than him anyway."

"well, i don't see anyone paying money to take pictures of you too." you giggled, enjoying the way you could rile draco up with a simple comment, as he frowned at you.

"really smart, y/n" draco exclaimed with a roll of his eyes, before he stood up. “come on, pansy”

pansy furrowed her brows in confusion, but reluctantly got up, as draco made no move to leave without her.

“very weird morning so far” you mumbled, watching after your friends.

“hey, by the way,” enzo said, steering your gaze back to him. “i wanted to ask you if you could help me with my project for herbology. i had a problem with taking care of that plant.”

“that plant?” you repeated with a smile “you mean the roses we’re supposed to help grow faster?”

“exactly”

“sure” you nodded, reaching for the jam once more. “i’ll help you”

“oh, darling would you mind helping me with that very easy task for divination?” blaise fluttered his eyelashes at theo, who got the hint immediately, lifting his voice to mimic yours.

“you mean the one with the tea cup?” he smiled brightly, weirdly even looking a bit like you. “of course, my love”

their smiles vanished simultaneously and blaise turned in your direction. “this is how the two of you sound by the way”

“hilarious” you muttered, matching theo’s normally flat tone perfectly. “hey, mate, later i’m gonna make sure to smoke a whole pack of cigarettes and if i have time i might drown myself in the lake after that”

“sure” enzo nodded, his voice wavering and even picking up an octave to match blaise’ melodic tone. “i might order a few new gucci scarfs and after that i’ll watch that muggle movie that’s been on my list for ages” he dragged out the end of the word dramatically.

“and scene!” you grinned, turning in blaise’s and your brother’s direction. “and this, is how you sound by the way”

STUDENT INTERVIEW #183 — MATTHEO RIDDLE (take one) — by luna lovegood

camera turns on. mattheo sits in a very relaxed, almost offensively smug position, one leg thrown over the armrest of his chair.

mattheo riddle: so when i came down the stairs this morning, i found a mysterious letter on the table in the middle of the common room—

luna lovegood (leading lady of the student papers, behind the camera): actually you should talk about—

mattheo riddle: (frowning slightly) i wasn’t finished, goldilocks! anyway, i found this letter—

mattheo holds up a folded piece of parchment, camera zooms in.

mattheo riddle: —and surely we all know who wrote this.

mattheo unfolds the parchment, reads

mattheo riddle: ‘my love, i write this letter to tell you about my undying affection. i like everything about you: from the way you do your hair, to the way you carry your books. let me know if you feel the same. all my love, yours truly.’ no name. y/n was probably scared her brother could find this.

luna lovegood: y/n nott?

mattheo riddle: (grinning) well, obviously, she’s been in love with me for ages, hasn’t she? now my time has come to corrupt theo’s innocent little sister. if you’ll excuse me—

he stands up, takes off the enchanted mic and hands it to luna behind the camera. luna and colin creevey (cameraman) look after him in confusion.

"okay, i have to get my books and then i'll meet you in the greenhouse, you go ahead." you told enzo, who nodded dutifully and walked out of the common room without another word.

you fetched the needed school books from your room quickly, walking back into the common room only mere seconds later. you studied the books shortly, pushing them into your bag, when you noticed an abondened piece of parchment laying on the table in the middle of the common room.

your eyes darted around the empty room. no hint of anyone. was that there already, when you came in a few minutes ago? you had no idea.

"whoops" you muttered, pushing the parchment off the table and bending down to pick it up. you unfolded it, your eyes flying over the words quickly.

"i like everything about you?" you repeated confused. "shit, enz" you shook your head, throwing the parchment back onto the table and leaving the common room.

STUDENT INTERVIEW #188 — Y/N NOTT (take one) — by luna lovegood

the camera flickers on, revealing y/n sitting across from luna. she looks skeptical, arms crossed, clearly regretting agreeing to this interview.

y/n nott: (tilts head) right. the letter. (pauses) well, obviously, it’s not mine.

luna lovegood: this is not— (sigh) no one said it was.

y/n nott: (ignores her) but if it was mine—hypothetically speaking—i’d have to assume it was from enzo.

luna lovegood: why enzo?

y/n nott: (shrugs) who else would write something like that? i mean, it’s way too nice to be from draco, mattheo would probably set it on fire before writing anything remotely romantic, and blaise—well, blaise would’ve signed it ‘from your future husband, blaise zabini’ and included a self-portrait.

luna lovegood: that’s very specific.

y/n nott: yeah, because it’s true.

luna lovegood: but you really think it’s enzo?

y/n nott: …i mean, maybe? probably? he’s always so nice to me. and the letter said something about liking the way i carry my books, and he notices that sort of stuff.

luna lovegood: that’s very observant of him.

y/n nott: (deadpan) yeah. suspiciously observant. what if he’s planning something?

luna lovegood: (cheerfully) like asking you on a date?

y/n nott: okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

luna lovegood: but would you want it to be from him?

y/n nott: … (groans) next question.

luna lovegood: there are no other questions.

y/n nott: fantastic.

the camera lingers on her vaguely distressed expression before cutting to black.

"i've done a lot for my body this past semester, you know?" draco smirked, throwing an arm up. "wanna feel?"

pansy furrowed her eyebrows, but complied, reluctantely pressing down on the blonde's biceps.

"wow, that's great" she nodded, smiling unsurely. "what are you showing me this for again? i mean any particular reason?"

"just letting you know." draco shrugged, as if it was obvious. "buffed and available" he pointed to himself.

"right" pansy nodded slowly.

"hey guys, you have time for a quick interview?" luna lovegood's voice interrupted the weird conversation between the two. draco shook his head and opened his mouth, ready to decline the offer, but pansy nodded, pushing the boy forward.

"actually, draco would love to"

STUDENT INTERVIEW #192 — DRACO MALFOY (take one) — by luna lovegood

the camera flickers on, revealing draco sitting with his arms crossed, looking like he’s being forced to attend a disciplinary hearing. luna, unbothered, gives him a pleasant smile.

luna lovegood: so, draco—

draco malfoy: —it’s from pansy.

luna lovegood: (sighing)…the letter?

draco malfoy: (nods, very serious) obviously.

luna lovegood: and you’re sure because—

draco malfoy: (leans forward, steepling his fingers) because she’s in love with me.

luna lovegood: interesting. and what proof do you have?

draco malfoy: she always sits next to me, she always compliments me—

luna lovegood: really? what’s the nicest thing she’s ever said to you?

draco malfoy: (thinking hard) … she once said, ‘draco, stop talking.’

luna lovegood: that’s not really—

draco malfoy: (interrupts) because she was overwhelmed. with emotion. also, it was obviously meant affectionately.

camera zooms in behind draco. pansy is leaning against the wall, slowly shaking her head.

luna lovegood: so you’re convinced she wrote the letter? i mean what if it wasn't her?

draco malfoy: (laughs, leans back) oh, luna. sweet, naïve luna. (pats his chest) denial is a river in egypt..

luna lovegood: you know how that quote ends?

draco malfoy: no?

luna lovegood: figured.

the interview ends with draco smugly running a hand through his hair, completely convinced of his theory.

"so just put it in there now?" enzo questioned, motioning the powder towards the rose in front of the two of you.

"right." you nodded, watching him gently shake the package until the powder had settled onto the entire plant. you studied the book in front of you. "now we have to wait about ten minutes, before we can continue"

"great." enzo nodded, dropping the empty package into the bin.

"great," you nodded with a tightlipped smile. you quickly continued talking, trying to keep the awkward energy to a minimum. "so how's everything going? i feel like we haven't talked in ages, i mean just the two of us. alone." you turned away shortly to fill a bucket with water. 'just the two of us'? you repeated to yourself, not sure what had gotten into you.

enzo, who was not noticing any awkwardness, smiled at the question. "totally." he grinned. "well, herbology has been a pain, but apart from that, everything's great. thanks again for your help."

"anytime," you nodded. "but you know i'm not that good in herbology myself. why didn't you ask theo?"

"well, for starters, he isn't as pretty as you." enzo smirked confidently, at the same time as all your facial features completely derailed.

"what?" you repeated in something close to a screech.

enzo's smile died down. "sorry, i didn't want—"

"no, you know what?" you grinned uncomfortably, trying to safe the situation. "it's fine—, oh ten minutes already?" you checked your invisible clock, before you pushed the water bucket against enzo's chest with a little more force then necessary. "water it!" you instructed between clenched teeth.

"o-okay" enzo nodded immediately, confused by your sudden mood shift.

STUDENT INTERVIEW #199 — BLAISE ZABINI (take one) — by luna lovegood

blaise sits in his dorm, his arms crossed, looking effortlessly cool.

blaise zabini: alright, let’s not waste time. that letter? clearly about me.

luna lovegood: are you sure?

blaise zabini: luna.

he gestures vaguely to himself.

blaise zabini: have you seen me?

luna blinks. colin adjusts the focus on the camera.

blaise zabini: "i like everything about you"—obviously referring to my impeccable fashion sense. "the way you carry your books"—have you seen me carry books? it’s graceful. regal, even.

luna lovegood: …do you have any idea who wrote it?

blaise zabini (smirking): i do, but it wouldn’t be fair to ruin their fun.

colin creevey (cameraman): (deadpan) so you don’t know.

blaise zabini: they’ll come forward when they’re ready. probably in a grand romantic gesture involving candlelight and expensive wine.

luna lovegood: you’re a minor.

blaise zabini: and yet, so emotionally mature.

the camera zooms into the background of the room, the entire wall is adorned by photos of blaise in various different poses.

"what do you think?" blaise asked, holding up two almost identical looking shirts. "this one, or that?"

theo looked up from the book he was reading. "i couldn't care less, actually."

"this is important, theo." blaise pleaded. "come on, mate."

theo sighed, marking the page of his book and closing it, before looking up at his friend once more. he studied both shirts for a few seconds, before he shrugged. "they look the exact fucking same."

blaise groaned, throwing himself down on his bed and staring at the ceiling. "i'm surrounded by idiots."

"what was that?" theo perked up, trying to catch blaise's gaze.

"nothing." blaise said quickly, not about to ruin his face by getting into a brawl with theo he would lose anyway.

"you sure?" theo raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the moment of confusion.

blaise let out a dramatic sigh, pushing himself off the bed. "whatever, i'm wearing this one," he muttered, pointing to the shirt he'd already decided on.

STUDENT INTERVIEW #204 —THEODORE NOTT (take one) — by luna lovegood

theo is standing in the hallway, with his back leaning against the wall.

luna lovegood: so, theo, we're here to ask you about—

theo nott (skeptically eyeing the camera): this is not getting published, is it?

luna lovegood (confused): well, it's for the student paper—

theo lets go of the microphone that flies back against the camera. he steps around it, walking away. the camera zooms in on his retreating form.

"you're acting weird." enzo noted softly as he watched you walk circles in the greenhouse.

"i'm acting weird?" you asked with a pointed look. "what about that letter, huh?"

"what letter are we talking about exactly?" enzo furrowed his brows in confusion.

you opened your mouth, ready to answer, when the door to the greenhouse swung open and mattheo walked inside.

"there you are!" he grinned, pointing at you.

"oh, great," you muttered, pressing a hand against your forehead.

"i've got about a million condoms with your name on them, darling." mattheo revealed a row of condoms from his pocket, that unrolled itself until it hit the floor.

"ew, no!" you called loudly, looking absolutely traumatised.

"what the fuck?" enzo had asked at the same time, looking baffled as his head swung back and forth between mattheo and you.

"what the heck are you doing?" you asked, walking to mattheo and trying your best to fold up the row of condoms, but failing.

"i'm being responsible," mattheo shrugged simply. "i would suck as a father."

“you would suck as anything” you whispered between clenched teeth.

"you'd have to have sex for that first." enzo noted with a mutter.

"right," mattheo nodded, obviously satisfied that someone pointed out the obvious, and then leaned forward, pressing his lips in your direction.

you quickly swerved to the side and mattheo opened his eyes, confused after simply kissing the air.

"not happening." you shook your head.

"you don't have to be so tasteful, love." mattheo wiggled his eyebrows. "if it's about enzo, i'm sure he'll leave us alone."

"oh, gladly." enzo nodded. you didn't miss the hint of anger in his voice. "if that’s what you want," he said to you, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"no, it definitely isn't." you pushed mattheo away from you. "enzo stays and you leave."

"come on, baby," mattheo pouted. "don't be like this."

"you heard her," enzo said, sounding much more menacing than intended. "i’ll help you find the door."

mattheo paused for a moment, staring at enzo like he just realized something. "wait... are you jealous?" he asked, suddenly smirking. "oh, mate, i didn’t realize we were competing."

"oh, trust me, you're not," enzo shot back, his voice smooth as butter, but there was a definite edge underneath it.

"he’s right, you know," you muttered under your breath, crossing your arms. "you’re not really competition for anyone, mattheo."

"ouch," mattheo made a dramatic face, rubbing his chest as though wounded. "i thought we were friends, y/n."

"well, clearly that’s not exactly what’s on your mind," you said, pointing at the condoms still clutched in his hand. "unless you think friends sleep with each other."

"you can call us whatever you want," mattheo shrugged with a grin, clearly unbothered. "just not boyfriend and girlfriend. that’s actually what i wanted to talk to you about. i’m not big on relationships, but an open one? that, i’m interested in."

"i'm not sure in which way i ever indicated that this—" you gestured vaguely between yourself and mattheo, "—was ever happening."

"oh, don't be daft, love," mattheo shook his head. "you don’t just leave love letters lying around without meaning something."

"love letters? wait you think i wrote that letter? and to you?"

"of course. who else could it be from?" mattheo scoffed.

"enzo wrote it." you answered without properly thinking.

"w-what?" enzo mumbled confused.

both mattheo and you looked at enzo.

"well, i surely didn't write it." mattheo recounted. "and if neither of you wrote it, then that leaves…” he trailed off.

"oh god." you realized. "that's why draco has been acting so weird all day. he thinks pansy wrote it. for him."

"isn't pansy currently hooking up with that ravenclaw?" enzo asked confused.

"exactly!" you nodded, quickly opening the door and walking out of the green house, mattheo and enzo close behind you.

you found draco and pansy in the slytherin common room. pansy lounged on the couch, unimpressed, while draco paced in front of her like a dramatic protagonist in a bad play.

"i can’t believe you would betray me like this!" he finally burst out, spinning to face her with all the flair of a soap opera lead.

"oh," he added in surprise, noticing the three of you stepping inside—mattheo still holding an alarming amount of condoms.

pansy turned her head to look at you. “fucking finally.” she sighed. “could please someone of you tell draco that i didn’t write that stupid love letter?”

“you didn’t just write it!” draco corrected. “you wrote it for me!”

“that’s where you’re wrong, young padawan!” a voice interrupted dramatically. everyone turned to see blaise and theo descending from the stairs, blaise throwing his arms open like a victorious gladiator. “the letter was clearly for moi!”

theo crossed his arms, sinking into the armchair. his facial expression hinted at how uncomfortable he felt. "more importantly—who the fuck do you need that many condoms for?" he asked mattheo, eyeing the absurdly long strip still hanging from his hand.

“well, your dear sister—“

“i did not write that letter” you said between clenched teeth.

“yeah. neither did i!” pansy bluffed, crossing her arm and staring at draco, who was clearly not believing her.

“it’s unimportant who wrote it!” blaise corrected. “it’s important that it was written for me”

“sure” draco nodded sarcastically. "if it was so clearly about you, then tell me—what hair were they talking about? because i see none on your head."

blaise inhaled sharply, clutching his chest as though he'd been stabbed. "how dare you," he whispered, scandalized.

chaos erupted. everyone—except theo, who remained as indifferent as ever—began shouting accusations, arguing over who wrote or faked the love letter.

the shouting match came to an abrupt halt when astoria greengrass strolled past you all, plucked the letter straight from draco’s grip, and smiled.

“hey guys!” she smiled. “i have been searching for that, thank you!” she grinned.

“you wrote that?” draco muttered stunned.

“yeah, it’s for a guy i like” astoria admitted sheepishly. “could you guys please not tell anyone? it’s kind of embarrassing.”

you all exchanged glances, before theo, who was the only one with a clear enough mind to think, nodded. “we’ll keep your secret” he assured the younger girl, who smiled gratefully, before she walked back to her dorm.

"well, that was—" you started, but mattheo promptly cut in.

"disappointing," he sighed dramatically, flopping onto the couch. "would've been fun to rub it in theo’s face."

"to rub what in my face?" theo raised an eyebrow.

"unimportant," enzo said quickly before mattheo could answer.

"well, now that that's been discussed. how about a round of chess?" pansy suggested looking at you and you nodded with a smile.

the rest of your friends settled down too, returning to either their homework or an abondened book they still wanted to finish.

STUDENT INTERVIEW #211 — LORENZO BERKSHIRE (take one) — by luna lovegood

the camera flickers on, revealing enzo sitting stiffly in his chair. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply.

luna lovegood: so, the love letter mystery has been solved. any thoughts?

enzo berkshire: (dryly) yeah. turns out we’re all idiots.

luna tilts her head. colin zooms in slightly.

luna lovegood: you didn’t seem very surprised when astoria took the letter.

enzo berkshire: (smirks lightly) no, i wasn’t.

luna lovegood: why?

enzo hesitates, looking off to the side. he exhales sharply through his nose, then looks back at the camera.

enzo berkshire: because i asked her to do it.

colin creevey: wait—what?

enzo berkshire: (shrugs, looking mildly uncomfortable) i wrote the letter.

the room goes still. luna blinks, tilting her head.

luna lovegood: for y/n.

enzo rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking anywhere but at the camera.

enzo berkshire: yeah. (clears throat) it was… it was for her. but i—i don't know. it didn’t feel right. just leaving it for her to find. it just— i wanted to tell her myself. face to face. not in some anonymous letter she’d spend days overanalyzing. but by the time i realized that, i couldn’t just take it back, so…

luna lovegood: (softly) you asked astoria to pretend it was hers.

enzo berkshire: yeah.

colin creevey: so… are you going to tell y/n?

enzo breathes out a laugh, shaking his head.

enzo berkshire: i don't know, maybe. but not right now. she seemed overwhelmed when she thought it could possibly be from me. i want to wait, make sure she wants it.

luna studies him for a moment before nodding in understanding.

luna lovegood: i think she’d like to hear it from you. eventually.

enzo berkshire: yeah. i think so too.

the camera cuts, leaving a black screen.

luna and colin were both sitting in the classroom where the school papers were edited, overlooking the material, just having watched enzo's interview.

luna smiled as she remembered enzo's confession and turned to look at colin. "delete the video." she said softly. "it's not our secret to tell."

colin nodded, already having thought the same thing, before he deleted the video and made sure nothing of it was still left on the camcorder.

luna watched the screen go dark, then turned to colin with a small smile.

"besides, it's more fun to let them figure it out themselves."

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