"I love the way she survived, survival looked good on her."
Everything looked good on her. The end of the war had done Hermione Granger a world of good. She no longer personified that dorky bucked-tooth know-it-all, pain in the arse that Drake used to love to harass. She was all grown up now, and damned if she did not look hella fit.
"You're staring at Granger and mumbling under your breath again, Zabini." The sullen voice of my best mate, rudely interruptes my inner monologue.
"You could at least try to be less of an obvious stalker, yeah? We are trying to stay out of Azkaban here."
"No mate, you're the one trying to keep your Pretty-Boy arse outta the joint. I, like the cunning, gorgeous, well-endowed, Slytherin, that I am, had the good sense to claim neutrality, like any other sane wizard should have." I swarm back, raising my left eyebrow (in the annoyingly beautiful way I practice in the mirror from time to time) just because I know it pisses Drake off, while making me look like the charmingly cool Slytherin all the ladies love.
"Now see here Zabini!"
Malfoy starts going a wee bit pink in the face, the obvious warning sign that Mt. Draco is about to erupt. I grew up with the bloody wanker, I know how his royal arse-ness works, and while I am not the least bit intimidated by my temperamental best mate, I really don't have the time, nor the inclination to listen to another one of his whining rants, so I cut him off before he can start.
"Yeah, yeah mate, Voldemort took over the Manor, he threatened your mum, you had no choice, yada, yada; it's all real tragic, really I feel for ya, mate. Now can we move on to the much more interesting, and pressing matter at hand?"
Draco simply lifts one, much too blonde eyebrow, in an obviously very poor imitation of yours truly (pssshh the belled wishes he could have the perfect dark-Italian brows that Merlin blessed me with) but I'm going to take his facial expression -or lack thereof- as well as the fact that Drake hasn't tossed a wayward hex my way, as a sign that he's waiting on bated breath for me to proceed.
"Have you noticed how fit Granger's arse got this past year?"
I barely have enough time to dodge a stinging hex that Malfoy carelessly aims my way, before he turns away, back to the task we've had on hand; finishing cleaning out the debris in what's left of our Slytherin common room.
"Oye, you bloody arse, Malfoy! You almost castrated me ya foul git!" I yell at his retreating back.
Malfoy turns to face me, and simply rolls his eyes.
"Get back to work, Zabini," he huffs out, "I don't care to stay here longer than strictly necessary."
Draco picks up a piece of what I assume was part of the entrance wall of the common room.
"And stop acting like a child!"
Those are his last words to me before he, none too gently, hurls the piece of stone at my general vicinity.
Git.
A/N
And so begins my drabbles from Blaise Zabini's perspective, if that wasn't already clear. What love story(ies) does Blaise have a front row seat to witness the development and the (possible) end of? Guess you'll have to wait and see :)
Reviews and critiques are always welcome *hint**hint* ;)
I am but a poor college student, anything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling, and sadly I am not her, if I was I'd be off back-packing through Europe now, but sadly I am not.
xoxo
hermionesrose