Disclaimer: Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini are not mine. They belong to J. K Rowling. This story was unbeta'd. If you notice mistakes in either grammar or spelling, please inform me in your review and I will fix them. Thank you.
Draco Malfoy is not beautiful, or even handsome, but he can very often make people forget that fact. His skin is too fair for beauty, and he is too small. His complexion is clear, his mouth a wickedly curved coral temptation, and his skin as smoothly soft as the skin of a fairy-tale princess, but where a classical fairy tale would have roses there is only the faintest flush of pink, the color of first dawn and diluted blood. . He is more eerie than pretty, with his light hair and light skin and light fierce eyes. It is as though all the color in him had been burnt away long ago, leaving only silvery remnants behind.
His tip-tilted eyes are a clear grey, the color of shadowed smoke and moonstones and things that fade away. They are framed by long eyelashes only a shade darker than his hair, a gleam rather than a contrast. His brows are also near-invisible against his skin, and in another might look unfinished. Veela blood guarantees that he will never be invisible, though the blood is too diluted to assure positive attention.
His face used to be all points, sharp as his poisoned tongue, but now at sixteen the pointy face has smoothed and lengthened into angular planes with sharp cheekbones with a near-Fae bone structure. He is still small, only five foot six, but his body is built on long graceful lines. He is almost a miniature statue, done in marble and silver.
Draco's hair is straight as heavy sheets of rainwater, spiderweb-fine, and close to the color of platinum. It falls past his pointed chin and he is constantly flicking it back in a flickerflash of gleaming light. That's what Blaise noticed first, constant shimmering motion and this sneering snarling boy who never shuts up. Blaise missed Italy, when he first came to Hogwarts. Draco reminded him of Aphrodite, the cruelest and loveliest goddess, with hair and skin pale as the foam from which she rose. In his mind Blaise has always called Draco sukien, feather of the sea.
Blaise Zabini is beautiful, but too pretty to be handsome. He has a gift for fading into shadows, so his beauty is often forgotten. His mouth is full and often curved into a smiling sneer, with lips the deep red of ripe cherries. He looks more ordinary than Draco, with his dark hair and dark skin and dark cool eyes. But the Slytherins, who notice Blaise far more often than the other Houses, would rather face the Headmaster any day. Dumbledore would punish them with detention or loss of points, but Blaise has a viciously effective habit of striking from behind.
Blaise's skin is as close to gold as Slytherin House will ever accept, save in their Galleons. Some have said that he is the color of molten gold mixed with pure ground cinnamon, and so Blaise takes care always to smell of vanilla. He enjoys doing the unexpected. Draco smells of blood and chocolate, and sometimes of frosted stone, and Blaise does not know why he remembers this.
Blaise's eyes are a shadowy golden brown, almost the exact shade of good whiskey with no light behind it. His eyelashes are also long, but dark as his hair. Some would say that his lashes are as dark as his black heart.
His hair is true black, with hints of red when the light strikes it perfectly. It waves gently to his shoulders, barely touching them. He keeps it tied back with a gold silk ribbon, because Draco's eyes flashed outrage and his nostrils flared when he saw a Slytherin wearing gold. Blaise, for some reason, hates having Draco not notice him.
What he doesn't know is that Draco has a tendency to notice Blaise, and Draco doesn't know why he bothered to memorize the way Blaise's mouth narrows when focused on something any more than Blaise knows why he bothered to memorize the blazingly happy way Draco smiled back in second year, when he became Slytherin Seeker.