Disclaimer: Beneath the title of every Harry Potter book lays the name of one woman. I, unfortunately, am not that woman.
A/N: Written for the Disney Quotes Challenge, prompt listed below. Beta-ed by the wonderful RoseScor90. Many hugs and thanks to her. Hope you guys enjoy.
Logically, she knew that the weather had nothing to do with the events of the world. Happiness didn't bring out the sunshine; anger didn't cause thunderstorms. There were the stories, of course, of the rare witch or wizard so powerful that the weather responded to their moods, but even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-Even-After-His-Death hadn't held such power. Personally, she thought the stories must be just that – the fantastical wishes of people who still couldn't completely control their surroundings, despite the wand in their hand.
Nevertheless, on that particular winter day, Daphne was absolutely positive that the sky had inhaled the general despair of the wizarding world and released all the emotions in a downpour of rain. Grey clouds hovered overhead, staring down at the people trying so desperately to piece back together their world.
She wondered how many people cried with the sky that day.
She wondered when she'd finally run out of tears. Logically, it seemed like she should have ran out a long time ago.
"Another dreary day," she mumbled to herself as she slowly made her way along the street. Part of her wanted to run, to get out of the rain as quickly as possible, but she simply couldn't muster the energy.
"Indeed," a deep voice muttered next to her. Slightly turning her head to the left, she slid her eyes over to see a drenched Blaise Zabini at her side. Her weary brain started to wonder what he was doing outside on such a day, but before she could seriously contemplate the situation, she decided doing so would take too much effort.
She felt so drained.
Not listening to her complaint of fatigue for longer than two seconds, her brain again started to wonder things she really didn't want to take the time to think about. As he continued to walk next to her, matching her dragging pace, it asked why he was there. Although they had been in the same house in the same year at Hogwarts, they had never been friends. Outsiders probably assumed that all the students in such a small, private school were just the best of buddies, but reality never lined up with imagined ideals. The two Slytherins simply ran in different circles, talked to different people, enjoyed different classes and pastimes.
And it certainly didn't help that Blaise Zabini happened to be the most arrogant boy of their year. Pansy may have gotten along with him, but his vanity constantly annoyed Daphne.
They did, however, have one thing in common. One vital, distinctive label that stuck like glue even after school was over and the war was finished: neither of them supported the Death Eaters, nor did their families. It was a rare occurrence, actually, since they were both purebloods, but Daphne's family was among the few pureblood families in England not yet related to the Blacks, so they felt no sort of obligatory responsibility to keep the lines untainted, and Blaise's family… well, Daphne had no clue why his mother did whatever she did. Truth be told, Daphne realized, she did not know very much about Blaise Zabini at all.
A brain in automatic mode steered her towards her destination, so Daphne hadn't expected to find herself outside the broken telephone booth so soon. Only when the door creaked open, his perfectly manicured hand gripping casually, did she realize that Blaise was still next to her, seemed to be headed to the same place she was, and had opened the door for her.
She blinked multiple times, trying to get rid of the tears that were surely twisting her vision. Even as her eyesight cleared, the image of a dripping wet Blaise remained, typical button-top white shirt sticking to his skin in patches to reveal the shape of his slim build, smart (and no doubt expensive) dark robes hanging awkwardly off his shoulders all askew in a manner he never would have tolerated in their Hogwarts years.
"You coming?" he questioned after a long moment, staring at her blankly. Swiftly she shook her head to wake herself up and stepped inside the small booth. Although her brain had been rather tired just a few minutes ago, she then found it spinning at a kilometer a second, all the thoughts focused on a certain ex-Slytherin whose body pressed lightly against her own.
"Curse those bloody aurors," she heard Blaise grumble under his breath. Understanding his discontentment immediately, she scoffed lightly.
"Tell me about it," she murmured, not quite sure if she wanted him to hear her. But hear her he did, and he quickly directed his gaze towards her. His eyes, she remembered, always were a most wonderful dark brown. Like coffee beans. Or real chocolate, the dark stuff. Or perhaps a mix of the two, all swirled into a chaotic twirl of deliciousness.. As they looked at each other, a slight smile spread across both of their faces, although Daphne couldn't tell a soul who had donned the expression first if her life depended on it.
"You here for the Floo Connection?" he asked conversationally.
"Yes," she answered, fighting the sudden and peculiar desire to play with her hair. "You, too?"
"Yes," he echoed. "It's been horrid these past months. Our land has a powerful Apparition Ward, so I've been forced to walk across the grounds to go anywhere."
"Poor you," she remarked sarcastically. To her relief, his eyes lightened a bit with amusement at her words.
"All right, it hasn't been that bad," he admitted, cracking a half smile. The sight startled her; it had been so long since she had seen anyone smile in this grey (literally that particular rainy day) world.
"I'm looking forward to when they lift the Apparition bans on this old place," Daphne commented in an effort to shake off her surprise and return to their casual conversation.
"And those on St. Mungo's," Blaise added, nodding once, eyes concentrated on the glass pane in front of him.
Just then, the booth opened, revealing the constructional mess that was the Ministry of Magic. People hustled and bustled about, a good number of them wearing the dark orange robes of the repair crew. Lights flashed through portions of the room every half second as various spells were muttered. Since the wards had been established so long ago, experimentation was necessary to find a working combination again.
Blaise strolled right ahead, winding around the floating orange safety strings and collections of people as if he had done so a thousand times. Daphne hurried to catch up, not exactly knowing why she bothered. After some maneuvering, the two ex-Slytherins arrived at a crowded hallway that completely blocked their way.
"Is this the line?" Blaise asked in horror.
"For the Floo Connection?" a girl standing just in front of them replied, her purple reading glasses peering over her leather-backed novel. "Yes."
Tilting his head up, Blaise released a long groan before crossing his arms moodily. Lifting herself on her tiptoes, Daphne attempted to see how long the crowd of disgruntled people continued, sinking back down with a dark frown on her face. Sighing to herself, Daphne felt the familiar fatigue and looming impression of hopelessness wash over her.
"Hey," Blaise uttered quietly, nudging her upper arm slightly with his elbow. Blinking a few times and shaking her head back and forth to wake herself up, she turned to him with an inquisitive expression on her face, not expecting to find a similar one pasted upon his own.
"You okay?" he asked casually, tone betraying nothing. For a second though, Daphne thought she might have seen a flash of concern in his eyes.
"Yeah," she answered automatically, forcing a quick smile intended to reassure. "Of course."
"All right," he replied, shrugging his shoulders and seeming to accept her lie. She hated it when people – especially guys – so readily accepted such lies. Were they really that thick? But then again, she was the one that had spoken the lie, that wanted them to not know the truth. Sometimes it just felt disappointing that no one would question her façades, as if no one cared enough about her to bother figuring it out.
"And how are you now?" he questioned, the possible beginning of a smirk teasing the ends of his lips.
"Still fine," she replied, not really understanding why he was acting so strange. Crossing her arms instinctively, she bit her lip gently, feeling a bit self-conscious.
"Now this time I know you're lying," he remarked drily, that typical arrogant air slipping from his mouth as he spoke. Nevertheless it was the underlying tone of teasing that only a Slytherin could distinguish from another Slytherin that made her smile almost against her will, her arms releasing themselves to fall by her side.
"Oh, really?" she responded, propping one hand on her hip.
"Really," he repeated haughtily, smirking openly now. "Besides, have you seen the weather outside? No one can be cheery after walking through that mess."
"That's not true," Daphne argued with a slight frown, thinking back on the good memories she had while playing in the rain. Then again, those times were from before war, before the deaths, before the imprisonments, before her friends turned away from her for 'ditching' them, before her father started drinking so much, before her mother spent so much time locked in her room, before Astoria had to wear that fake smile all the time.
She missed the rainy days when she could go outside with her sister and spin in circles until she fell flat on her face, laughing and giggling and not caring that they had mud all over their clothes and skin and hair.
"Water pours down from the sky, soaking clothes and skin and hair alike," Blaise retorted with a dark glare. "Ruining everything in a matter of seconds. Do you realize how long I spent getting dressed this morning? Then that bloody rain drenched everything, and that bloody dryer of the Ministry's only made things worse."
For the first time, Daphne noticed the peculiar fashion in which Blaise's hair was sticking up. His robes weren't neatly pressed, and his shoes still squeaked when they loved forward a step in line. Between her observations and the irony that he should use the exact descriptions that had been flowing through her head, Daphne couldn't stop the smile she felt approach.
"Good to know you haven't changed a bit, Zabini," she remarked with a roll of her eyes.
To her surprise, the unexpected exchange of banter gradually matured into a discussion of their lives. Time passed swifter than anticipated as Blaise told her about his journey towards becoming a Cursebreaker and she listed off a list of the books she read over the past months, omitting the fact that she read in an effort to escape the harsher world they lived in. Blaise openly admitted that he never was much of a reader, despite the expansive library his mother kept.
Before Daphne even realized that they had reached the front of the line, a deep voice called out from the room everyone wanted to enter, calling for the girl in front of Blaise.
"That went by faster than I expected," Blaise remarked in a light tone.
"Sure did," Daphne agreed, pleasantly surprised at how nice it was to talk with Blaise. Although her old classmate was still incredibly vain, some of his arrogance must have been lost over the years as if chipped away by the harshness of the real world.
"Next!" a different voice echoed, beckoning Blaise into the room. He smirked at her before turning around, and Daphne frowned at the peculiar sense of loss that washed over her.
Shortly after Blaise slid through the doorway, the girl with the purple glasses slipped past. Before disappearing into the crowd, however, she turned her head slightly to look directly at Daphne. Startling pale green eyes stared at her from behind those violet spectacles.
"Keep your chin up; someday there will be happiness again," the girl offered in a soft voice. Daphne parted her lips slightly, wondering how the girl could tell that she had been feeling so down, wondering what she should say in response to such a remark. Did she believe those words that were probably meant to inspire hope for a future Daphne had stopped looking forward to?
Before she could say anything, the girl melted back into the crowd, no doubt heading home for the day. Feeling slightly awkward, Daphne turned back around to wait for her turn to be called forward. Not a second later, she spotted Blaise as he waited for the man behind the desk to find some paper in the file in front of him. When their eyes locked, he winked at her.
A few minutes later, Daphne squeezed her way back out of the crowd to find Blaise waiting for her in the main room, soft smirk on his face and slight sparkle in his chocolate and coffee brown eyes. As he accompanied her back outside into the heavy rain and asked if she had any plans for lunch, Daphne decided that maybe she did believe that girl.
An hour later, she also decided that chocolate went really well with a touch of coffee.
A/N: Prompt: Blaise/Daphne, The Ministry of Magic, rainy day, and "Keep your chin up; someday there will be happiness again." – Robin Hood