'Even Blaise thinks she's good looking, don't you Blaise?' Taunted Pansy Parkinson.
Her muggle-loving blood was not for him, he growled. He would never kiss the lips of a traitor. So he said. But privately he spent more than enough time thinking about kissing the lips of a traitor. She was wild, mysterious and uncontrollable. She invaded his dreams in flame. On the two occasions he had to get close to her, she smelt sweet and fresh. Like a stream embellished with lily pads.
Ginny Weasley was no ordinary girl. She was the flicker to his soul. Until the day he could taste that fire, Blaise Zabini would retreat into his habitual cocoon and give himself to no cause and to no person.