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xxbloodheirxx-blog · 7 years ago

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The Beautiful & the Damned

This is an original work about Blaise Zabini during his 6th year at Hogwarts. It was used as a short story challenge from one of the fan-based sites I follow. Complete with a small soundtrack and an aesthetic. Enjoy!

“Put the hours in, put the work in

Swear I try so hard to be perfect

But sometimes, shit feels like a burden

'Cause I still ain't shit but a person

Switch lanes in the Porsche that I'm swervin'

Tell myself slow down off the bourbon

"When you drive like that, it made me nervous"

Not tonight, not closing the curtains” -G-Easy

Blaise threw open the door and unfurled his breath from the stale hold he had placed on it through the quidditch pitch and back through the dorm corridor. It had been by far the worst practice he had encountered from being on the team and it took everything in him not to hex his comrade, Urquhart, who threw orders like second nature. There was only two more practices they could scuffle up before their match against Hufflepuff and, although this really shouldn’t be a concern, after the last two failures, Urquhart was determined to at least win this one. But the practices were excessive and torturous and by the end of this particular one, Blaise even questioned wanting to continue.

With a sigh, he threw his broom into the corner and loosened up his playing robes. He hadn’t even bothered to change with the rest of the team, who decided to stay behind and place blame on each other for the horrid plays they stumbled over tonight. Instead, Blaise raced to the dungeons without looking back and managed to sift through some half-clean clothes in his trunk to find exactly his cure. With a swift twist of a thumb and wrist, the cork to the firewhisky popped off and the spicy aroma quickly wafted up to Blaise’s nose. He welcome the pinch and threw the bottle back, the liquid burned coarsely on the way down.

Blaise welcomed his old friend. Drinking hadn’t been uncommon over the past year as he took up the habit fairly quickly. Liquor was never a thing of scarcity around his house and, if anything, he coined it as a ‘distinguished family tradition’. Blaise’s mother would often drape over her Victorian chaise lounge with a snifter of dark liquid and sip it while chastising other members of various families she wished would rot in places not so comfortable. He liked the calming feel it gave him, the warming sensation, the robust excitement it created. Blaise had to admit, it gave him a spurt of maniacal behavior he usually kept to himself, but after Draco had been disappearing this past year, he had to keep himself busy.

Not that drinking would change anything, he often thought to himself. The number of witches he seduced hadn’t changed since his friend dipped out from their weekly escapades (which actually made him smile to himself to know that Draco has nothing to do with his ability to ‘shack’ a girl). His grades hadn’t shifted...much, and he was quite an exquisite quidditch chaser. Blaise hated to admit that he missed his friend after his initiation but he never let it show. Draco knew where he was if he ever decided to get his head out of his arse. Hell, Blaise considered joining the exclusive ‘club’ but decided that neutrality would benefit him and his family in the end. His mother didn’t need any more trouble after all of the rumors that had been placed on the Zabini name. In fact, because of this choice, he was offered many deals within the castle. The ‘new’ potions professor favored Blaise greatly and, if it hadn’t been for the choice to remain out of the death eater gang, he would’ve gotten overlooked quite feverishly. The idea taunted him nightly but that was what separated him from the others, wasn’t it?

The one true subject Blaise dedicated himself to was the art of potion making. He never fancied any class at all really and even though Snape was the Slytherin Head of House, Blaise was almost always pushed aside for the blonde prince. However, now that Slughorn had taken over the position and Snape was so snugly put in the place he desired most, Blaise could finally perfect the skill he had been working on for some time. Slughorn had given him a chance, albeit a condescending start, but one that grew over the past few months into a position that Blaise thought he could use to his advantage. The pureblood scoffed at the idea of ever having to work a day in his life, but the fact that he could conjure up a mean Veritaserum within mere days instead of a month put him at the top of the class. What Blaise valued the most, however, was access to the professor’s storage, where many different elixirs of choice often rested untouched, clear for the taking. The Slytherin always wanted the opportunity to raid the unforeseen depths of Snape’s old remedies and with Slughorn taking Blaise ‘under his wing’, he had all the access imaginable thus adding to his developing habit.

One of the unfortunate duties of this proposition was that of assisting Slughorn with some of his ‘less medial’ tasks, such as detention. Blaise sighed at the remembrance of his duty and wanted nothing less than to sit in a classroom with some unruly first years while time dwindled away. Taking another gulp from his almost empty bottle, he trotted off to the showers before making his way to the classroom.

Blaise barely looked around as he approached the dark oak desk that rested as a vessel in the front of the room. This was the third time this week he was asked to baby-sit and he started to weigh all of the the options of discontinuing it all together. Planting himself firmly in the rickety old chair, he finally glanced up to scour over the plague that prevented him from sleep. The group was light, only consisting of five students today. A boisterous Gryffindor, possibly a third year, who had a disheveled look to him already; a cowering small Hufflepuff who resembled nothing more than a scared squirrel (most definitely a first year) and then…..

The last three students caused a slight quiver of his upturned lip. Three of his fellow classmates rested quite comfortably in the seats, scattered towards the back of the room. Pansy slapped her gum together between her teeth, her boots propped up on the table in front of her, almost blocking his view of her. The incessant smacking and deep black hair stood out as a solid semblance of the prude witch. She was carefully taking her time ripping shards of paper from one of her textbooks and forming them into small spitballs for, what was assumed, future entertainment in this gruesome hour.

Sitting, laying actually, over one of the nearby tables lay none other than the prince himself. His white hair hung over his outstretched arm he used as a pillow, completely unaware of the world. Probably missing class, Blaise concluded as a reasonable cause for this arduous pause from whatever it was he was doing late into most evenings. He scoffed to himself lightly as his gaze trailed over to the last awaiting visitor of the night but his brows soon furrowed at the sight.

“Theo? What the hell are you doing here?” Of all his fellow housemates, Theodore Nott was the last one he would suspect to get into detention. The quiet boy was studious and very punctual and the likelihood of his presence was very intriguing.

The soft haired boy looked up from the book he buried himself into almost shocked at the address. After a few blushed seconds, a scuffling was heard as Pansy dropped her feet off of the table, catching the room’s attention.

“Found his way into the girl’s bathroom,” she cracked, the gum showing through her polished teeth. Blaise could catch a slight twinge of embarrassment from Theo. He could only chuckle to himself at the insinuation.

“I was half asleep. I didn’t know!” He finally refuted.

Pansy seemed amused at the probable truth he told. “You were out past curfew Nott.” Blaise knew better than to question because his validation was clear. Although Theo was a handsome bloke, he definitely wasn’t one to ‘wander off’ into a girls bathroom knowingly. More than likely he was in the library past midnight and stumbled in for a quick piss.

But soon the realization became clear. Nott out past curfew. Pansy, a prefect no doubt, catches him. Blaise turned to Pansy who had a look of disgust ridden over her face.

“Wait, you ratted out your own house mate? How incredibly shallow Pansy.” Her face dropped, somewhat shocked at the accusation.

“Well it’s not like I’ve been having any help!” She motions towards the lifeless body slumped over the desk. “I have to uphold certain standards and it’ll make us look bad if our quota is low.” She crosses her arms and began to perfect her pout.

Blaise sighed at Draco and rubbed his temples in exhaustion. He had a mutual respect for his friend but he’d be damned if whatever it was that he was doing wasn’t going to kill him in due time. Knowing the legacy, Theodore was probably next if they hadn’t gotten to him already.

As the time ticked on, Blaise soon found his mind to wander back to his bag where he kept his traveling stash for such droll occasions. He lifted the flask from his satchel and took a swig, continuing his stare at Pansy’s accumulating pile. She sneered at him from across the room and placed yet another spitball onto the mountain. The younger students watched in fascination. If only they knew what was awaiting them within mere moments.

Before he could take another sip, Pansy started her attack. Pelt after pelt she casually threw at the Gryffindor boy, who tried as he may to dodge her wandless magic. Why Pansy wasted time on meaningless behavior such as this was a bafflement on his end but yet, here he was, wasting his time observing such as spectacle. Soon the ansty Gryffindor finally burst with rage and turned to Blaise with a red face.

“Are you not going to do anything?” Blaise continued to watch the wet pieces of paper slap against his fair skin. “Anything at all?” The Slytherin chuckled again and drank from the flask, blatantly ignoring the boy’s plea. This punishment he was enduring was probably all but appropriate and he wasn’t about to stop the only amusing thing that was happening in the room. The boy huffed a puff of steam through his nostrils, murmuring curses under his breath before standing up and walking out of the room.

Pansy frowned at her prey leaving but soon targeted the small girl who squeaked a small whimper, melting into her seat. She aimed and threw but was just shy as the girl was a few desks behind the Gryffindor. Pansy tried again only to fail. Instead, the spitball flew and disappeared among the mess that was Draco’s hair spewed over the desk. The body stirred with Pansy quick to asses the damage. He ruffled his hair and touched the wet place, groaning into his sleeve. Pansy swiftly pushed the rest of her ammo onto the floor and closed her shredded textbook, masking her dastardly deeds. Draco sat up and looked at Pansy groggily, making a stern connection before choosing to nestle back into his fortress of solitude, not even taking note of Blaise or Theo (who has stopped his reading momentarily to watch the spectacle). Pansy was lucky this time. If Draco had been his normal self she would have gotten lashed with insult after bloody insult until she ended up tearing up and leaving herself. No one got to her the way Draco did and from Blaise’s observation, the relationship they had was all but innocent abuse. But Pansy kept her persistent loyalty for some reason. Blaise rolled his eyes at the ridiculous thought. None of what any of them were doing on a daily basis was healthy, but all in good fun is what the three yearned for.

Pansy’s shoulders dropped in a wave of relief but quickly became bored as her plan to pass the time was diminished within moments. For a brief moment she locked eyes with Blaise, who was now leaning back in the chair on two legs, his own resting on the scuffed desk. Blaise licked his teeth and broke their contact. Only twenty more minutes, he sighed, taking another swig. The light in Pansy’s eye suddenly shifted and an evil grin spread over her daunting face. She stood and swaggered over to Blaise at the desk before propping herself up on top of it.

“Care to share in any of the internal excitement Blaise?” She motioned towards the flask. Blaise huffed in amusement and placed the lid back on the bottle.

“Not on your life Pansy. Sharing is not a part of my vocabulary.”

Her lips quickly upturned in displeasement but that didn’t stop her intrusions. Slowly she crept her hand over his pant leg and up to his thigh. Blaise knew her gluttonous notions all too well and let her work, unphased by it all.

“You seem to be more than generous with sharing some of your assets from what I hear.” Blaise scoffed at the blunt response to his detest and couldn’t help but agree with her. However, that was for his own taking. Sharing his whiskey was another story altogether.

The dark boy grabbed Pansy’s hand gently, a smile spreading over his face. She warmed to his touch and fell quickly into his malicious trickery. Within minutes her hand was being crushed within his grasp. Blaise sat up in his chair and looked at her twisted face, laughing under his breath.

“My count will never reach the height of yours love.” He released her hand and she quickly drew it into her body for comfort.

“Don’t be a jealous slag Blaise.” Pansy barked, clutching her sore hand.

“Ha! Spoken like such a lady. I prefer quality over quantity. A purebred stallion in comparison to a common derby horse would make anyone laugh.”

Pansy’s mouth dropped slightly before curling back into a snarl. She yanked the flask out of Blaise’s hand and returned to her place at the desk, drinking greedily.

“That’s another night of detention Miss Parkinson,” Blaise spat through his teeth. He was too exhausted to get up from his seat and the flask was almost empty anyways. It wasn’t worth the effort of getting into it with the brat that prided herself on being such a whore.

Finally the hour was up and as soon as Blaise rose from his seat to gather his things did the Hufflepuff scurry out of the classroom. She had avoided much hassle given the nature of the beast that resided in the room. Blaise almost wished Draco had been awake to gang up on the others but, to his amazement, the blonde was still passed out on the desk.

Pansy was second to make a move, pocketing the flask in her bag.

“I am serious about that detention,” Blaise called after her. Her head snapped back to him upon her exit.

“And I’m serious when I say your a pompous git Blaise!” Biting his tongue, Blaise let it side, watching Theo sigh at the witch’s disrespectful behavior before pushing past her to get out of the room. Soon the room was left empty with just Blaise and the slumbering Draco.

As he passed his friend, Blaise placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder, stirring his.

“C’mon. Let’s go back to the dorm,” he murmured, slightly pulling Draco from his seat. The blonde cleared his throat and stretched out of Blaise’s grasp. A flash of bright whites appeared from his sharp-featured face as he laughed, still clearly disoriented. Blaise shared he moment and placed a hand around his friend, leading him back to the Slytherin common room.

Soundtrack:

The Beautiful & Damned- G-Easy

Inbetween- Ross

I Hope Your Whole Life Sux - Blackbear

Happy Little Pills- Troye Sivan

#hp fanfiction #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #hogwarts

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