Title: Selfish
Author: Meanderings
Rating: PG-13
Notes: So I starting writing this two years ago. I never finished, so I decided to finally go back and try to. This is divided into short, four parts. This first part was written the two years ago, unedited.
Sum: The only thing separating them was the War. Blaise was determined to keep Theodore without admitting it. Theodore thought there was something worth dying for. Slash. Part One.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Edited: Dec. 20
Selfish
Blaise Zabini wasn't one to mingle with others, but he wasn't someone that enjoyed complete solitude either. He would make loud and sarcastic chat with members of the other Houses, but he was seen talking quietly with other Slytherins. He wasn't a teacher's pet or obsessed about studying like Granger, but he still managed near perfect grades easily. He didn't like flying or the sport Quidditch, but for some reason he was an avid fan of the Irish team and attended every Hogwarts game.
Everyone had their odd qualities, but Blaise was anything but odd. People supposed it was just his personality, Slytherin traits, and others assumed it had something to do with his mother. No one knew who his biological father was; not even Theodore Nott knew. There were a few rumors that Blaise was actually adopted, but that wouldn't make him a Zabini, now would it? That would be a disgrace. He was pure-blood, that was for sure.
Blaise Zabini wasn't interesting or boring. He was simply there and here, right in the middle, just like his place in the war. Not even Draco Malfoy could persuade him; Harry Potter had even less luck. Blaise just stood where he always stood. It was as simple as that.
They said that his mother's man abused him and the woman didn't care, which was why Blaise always seemed to dread returning to Italy. Not that he didn't like Italy, but no one knew that for sure, they just knew he liked Hogwarts for certain. Rome, Italy, the city for romance, but Blaise wasn't romantic. He found poems dull, roses too red, and holding hands in the way.
Of course, Lavender Brown said otherwise. The girl was wild, the meaning behind gossip, when it came to swapping the latest scandal. Blaise was seen with Dean Thomas, but apparently he was dating Susan Bones whom he only got together with to win a bet with Terry Boot. No one knew if Lavender was telling the truth or not; the student body was never sure. Blaise didn't participate in drinking games so no Slytherin ever figured out if the rumor was true, much to the disappoint of the Ravenclaws. Blaise liked that. He was all about disappointment.
His mother was disappointed that he didn't turn out to be a girl, given his nice, pretty looks.
His grandfather was disappointed that Blaise didn't attend Durmstrang.
Rita Skeeter didn't like that fact that Blaise didn't have a reputation like his mother; less for her to write, lie, about.
When his mother became Maura Gorgovitz, Blaise's cousin were disappointed he didn't have anything to say about it.
Blaise was disappointed every time Draco Malfoy didn't catch the Snitch.
Blaise was always disappointed with something.
If he sat on his bed or one of the Common room's couches, hand in his hair and quill dabbing dots onto a piece of parchment, lost at what to write to his mother, then he was thinking over simple things. When he had difficult things to deal with, he was difficult to deal with.
Theodore knew when to leave Blaise alone and when to try and talk to him.
It was four weeks into their seventh year and the days passed as normally as they could. One morning, the Slytherin came down to the Great Hall, eyelids drooped, gait lazy, and his head slightly tilted to his right. On his way to the Slytherin table, he passed by the Gryffidors and let a contemptuous glance sweep over them. Harry Potter caught the look and was puzzled until Ron Weasely pulled him out of his thoughts. The Gryffindor turned away just as Blaise sat down next to Theodore's left, his usual place, where Millicent Bulstrode would be on his right.
Theodore made no gesture to greet his friend as he continued sipping his pumpkin juice, seemingly listening intently to Malfoy's rant, so Blaise turned away, grinned politely and started up a small chat with Bulstrode. The skinny Slytherin knew that Blaise was thinking about something from the way he walked, but he decided to wait until later to ask. After all, it had something to do with the Golden Boy.
It was after lunch, a free period, that Theodore decided to have a talk with his friend. He found Blaise sitting in an empty classroom down in the dungeons, charming a paper plane to fly around. The door squeaked loudly as he stepped into the room.
Blaise turned to look at Theodore. "Not reading?" An eyebrow was raised in what seemed to be amusement.
Theodore shrugged a shoulder and took a seat next to the other Slytherin. "No."
"…No," Blaise repeated quietly, almost mockingly.
There was a minute of comfortable silence until, "What's with the Potter boy?"
The paper plane dropped to the ground as Blaise slid his wand back into his pocket. "And just what do you mean by that?"
"Today at breakfast, that look you gave him."
Blaise rolled his eyes. "Put two and two together, Theo."
Theodore merely raised his eyebrow, imploring the Italian to continue.
"Your father wants you to join. Potter is savior of the world." Blaise gave a look that said something along the lines of 'why are you so incompetent?'.
"So you've been kissing Potter's arse?" Theodore still didn't quite get it.
Blaise laughed sharply. "I'd never lower myself like that! Let's just say Potter is keeping a safe eye on you."
"What?" Theodore snarled, realizing what Blaise was hinting. "You fed him a lie about how my father is forcing me to become a Death Eater and I'm all helpless and crap, didn't you?"
"And if I did?" Blaise shrugged. "Not much you can do about it now, Theo."
"Bastard." Blaise blew a mocking kiss, completely ignoring the dangerous narrowing of Theodore's eyes as he sauntered out of the classroom. Confrontations between the two were always like that. Short, simple, and sweet.
TBC