Chapter Eight
I Walked through Bedford Sty alone
Blaise was contemplating the world at large when he saw her walking through the halls. She held a thick paper back novel in one hand and her satchel, thrown over one shoulder, with the other.
He stopped to watch her. She moved with an aquiline grace, her moves flowing effortlessly into one another. She probably didn't realize it but she was beautiful. She was perfect.
Her freckles dotted her face and neck. If he could see them, he was sure she had the same cinnamon sprinkles on her shoulders and knees.
He leaned against a wall as she marched into the lawn and sat down. She opened her book only to slam it closed again. She glanced around, not noticing him. He was glad he had chosen this spot. It was well hidden.
She pulled up a handful of grass and spread it across her jean covered legs. Her look turned thoughtful and she set her book aside to thread the strands of grass together in a chain.
A gentle breeze stirred her crimson hair. She shook it back with a toss of her head and concentrated once agan on the grass in her lap. Her dark brows furrowed in concentration then she smiled.
It was like the sun had come out. Blaise stared at her as she smiled, her face a ray of golden light.
"Damn it." He muttered and stormed off.
He liked her. He was willing to admit that. She was pretty and smart and on occasion, nice. Sure she had a temper, but she seemed well controlled. Her brother was prone to outbursts but not her. She would give you more than fair warning that she was pissed at you.
She was devious. She could ruin you pretty easily. And still make you like her. Ginny was jsut naturally likable like that.
Blaise returned to his room and threw some dust in the fire. He called his mother's name. Evangaline Zabini's face appeared in the fire.
"Hello Blaise."
"Hi Mum."
"What can I do for you?"
"I'm curious."
"About?" She asked, tossing her dark hair from her eyes.
"I think I like this girl."
"I see no problem so far."
"I don't know if she likes me." Blaise continued.
"There in lies the problem." Evangaline mumured, resting her chin on her hand. "Woo her my son."
"But I don't know how much I like her!"
"Blaise, my son, You've been dating for what? THree years? And this is the first girl you've come to me about? I think we can assume you like her a lot."
Blaise smiled. "I guess so. Thanks Mum."
"No Problem. don't forget to change out of those socks. They're filthy."
Blaise let her go and changed his socks. He knew he liked Ginny. But did he love her? Had he fallen?
(A/N: Ok Bedford Sty is a metaphor in this fic. Bedford Sty was (I don't know if it still is) the most dangerous area in New York back in the seventies and Eighties. To Walk through there alone is a dangerous and often times suicidal thing. Bedford Sty is like falling in love for Blaise, a dangerous and probably suicidal thing. But he just can't resist.