Translation: baba liefde- baby love

This is my favorite chapter so far. I like writing about Blaise and Rashida and the exploration into the way his mind works. Now I'm wishing that I had just made a separate story so I could focus solely on these two. Maybe a future story, who knows.

Oh yeah. And I made a Drinny one shot based off a Harmione meme I had seen. It more than likely won't be posted here, so if you want to check it out, look for my Tumblr, weasleyismyking540

On with the fic :)


Chapter 14: Love And Spaghetti

Blaise's mother wasn't there to pick up Blaise and Rashida, so Blaise did a side along apparition to the street near his home.

"Why didn't you just apparate to your house?" asked Rashida.

"Because it's under the fidelius charm and you wouldn't be able to see anything." said Blaise as they walked down the street. Soon they stopped in front of a field.

"Here, remember this." said Blaise as her handed her a piece of scrap parchment. "When you're done, burn it."

Rashida glanced at the parchment. "2799 Millie Lane." she said.

Out of nowhere, a dirt road and forest appeared. Rashida looked bewildered. She had never encountered such a charm before. She quickly burned the parchment and took Blaise's awaiting hand.

He led her through the woods, pointing out certain trees that were of significance. About three minutes later, they approached a huge yellow house, as yellow as the sun.

"Ma likes yellow." said Blaise, in response to Rashida's odd face.

"Where are we anyways?"

"Verona, Italy. You didn't expect such a specimen to be from England, did you?" smirked Blaise.

Rashida rolled her eyes. "Of course not. How could I not have known?" she said in a sarcastic tone.

Blaise laughed and opened the door to his home.

The house was bright inside with yellow walls, though not as violent on the eyes as the outside. Pictures of Blaise in various stages of life graced the living room. Rashida smiled at a 4 year old Blaise playing with a 4 year old Draco in a sandbox. The boys were building a castle, Blaise had slipped, and then they ended up fighting before the picture started over.

"We still have that sandbox in the backyard." said Blaise, shaking his head and chuckling at the memory the picture brought on.

"Ma? MAAAAAAAAAAA! YOU HERE?" yelled Blaise as he and Rashida walked into the house's huge kitchen.

"There looks to be a note." said Rashida, eyeing the counter.

Blaise picked it up and read it, with Rashida looking over his shoulder.

Hello Baby!

Sorry I couldn't be here when you and your friend arrived. I have business to attend to in Greece. I shall see the both of you tomorrow at breakfast.

Play nicely, and you be kind to your f guest. Kind. But not too kind.

Mom

"Awwww Mommy's wittle baba liefde." said Rashida, pinching Blaise's cheek.

'What the hell does that mean?"

"Don't worry about it. So, where do I sleep?"

" Come on." said Blaise, taking Rashida's hand and leading her up the stairs. More pictures were hanging on the wall going up the stairs. These were pictures of him and his mother.

Rashida stopped at the picture of Blaise's mother holding a baby, more than likely him.

"Your mom is beautiful." said Rashida, gazing at the smiling woman, whom at the time the picture was taken, didn't look much older than she was.

Blaise looked at the picture and smiled. "That she is." he said.

Rashida looked at Blaise's face as he watched the picture. It was a look of sweetness and pure unconditional love, something she had never seen on him before. She liked it.

They continued on to one of the guest rooms and put Rashida's overnight suitcase in the room. She could tell his mother designed the room. Soft pastel yellow walls, floral print sheets and comforter, with white furniture and it's own bathroom.

They went to Blaise's room and she couldn't help but laugh.

His walls were the same color of his eyes, making the brown furniture stand out even more, he had a huge four poster nerd with black satin sheets. A few posters depicted various quidditch teams. He had a small bookcase, and a few pictures of him and what looked like other family members on the wall.

"Your room is nice. said Rashida, sitting on Blaise's bed. Blaise had to control himself. This was the first time a with had ever been on his bed. Seeing Rashida's honey glazed skin against his black sheets made him want to jump her and snog her senseless. However, he knew she wouldn't take to that, so instead he turned around so he wouldn't see the temptation that was she.

Rashida sensed his hesitation to look at her and was amused. She thought she would have some fun with it.

"Blaise? Blaaaaaaaaise? What's the matter?" she said in the sweetest voice she could muster.

Blaise cleared his throat and pretended to be occupied with the things on his dresser. "Nothing, I'm looking at something." he said, rummaging through a drawer.

"Mmmhmm. What's wrong? Never had a beautiful girl on your bed before? Turn around, I won't bite."

'Shit, I wish you would.' thought Blaise as he turned around.

"To answer your question, no. I've never had a girl on my bed. Hell, you're the first girl ever to be at my house." said Blaise.

Rashida laughed at this. "The great Zabini has never taken a woman to his own bed?"

"Well I haven't thought a casual shag deserved to be in my bed. Your actual bed should be reserved for someone special, don't you think?" asked Blaise as he hung up the jumper he had on, revealing his somewhat tight black undershirt. His mother always kept the house extremely warm

"You have a point." answered Rashida, not having an argument for that one.

"You want something to eat? I'll cook. How about spaghetti and homemade sauce?" suggested Blaise.

Rashida gave the boy a suspicious look. "You can cook?"

Blaise nodded with a smirk. "Of course I can cook. I can tie my own shoes too. Did you know?"

"Smart ass."


Rashida found herself thoroughly impressed as she sat on a stool and watched Blaise prepare and make homemade four cheese marinara sauce for his boiling spaghetti. She watched as he seemed as if he was enjoying himself. He seemed more relaxed, in his element. She listened attentively as he talked about his mother, his aunts, and different family events. His conversation then drifted to his grandmother, someone that he held up to the highest standards, the person who sparked his culinary passion.

He talked of her and his late grandfather that had passed when he was in his 4th year of school. He spoke on how deeply the man loved his wife, doing the smallest things for her to make her happy. They had been married for 35 long years.

"Forgive me for being so bold,". began Rashida. "but if you saw that your grandma and grandpa had such a beautiful love and marriage, why didn't you model after them?"

Blaise started preparing garlic bread. He seemed to be mulling over the question. "That's a very good question. One that I don't have the answer to."

Rashida nodded and continue to watch him as he piled spaghetti on two plates.

"He died." he finally said. "He died and left my grandma alone and brokenhearted. If he truly loved her, wouldn't he have tried to stay?" he asked, not meaning for the question to be rhetorical.

"Everyone dies, Blaise."

"She lost the person she loved the most. She won't find someone like that ever in her life again." said Blaise, sadly as he finished toasting the bread. "It's not like I don't want to find that special person and be in love. I just don't think I could deal if something happened to her. If she left me, you know?"

"So you leave before they can. Matter of fact, you don't start so it won't happen." stated Rashida. Blaise nodded.

"Tell me when." he said as he poured sauce over Rashida's spaghetti. She waited a few seconds and then stuck up her finger, indicating him to stop.

Blaise got out two champagne flutes and some sparkling white grape juice. He poured them both a glass and set everything on the dining room table.

The two sat down at the table, Rashida at the head, Blaise to the right of her. They toasted to the mean, and Rashida tasted the meal, and Rashida tasted the spaghetti.

"Well, whoever the lucky lady that gets you will have a wonderful chef on their hands. This is absolutely delicious, Blaise!" exclaimed Rashida, impressed.

Blaise gave her an appreciative grin. It felt good to cook for someone other than his mother and grandmother. As the two sat quietly and ate happily, he couldn't help but start to think about how this felt right to him, him cooking for her and them eating together. How he could see himself and her doing this every day.

The pull at his heart for this girl was getting stronger and stronger. The thought of having feelings that ran deeper than physical scared the hell out of him.

'Just focus on the bet, Blaisey Boy, focus on the bet.' he thought.

Little did he realize, Rashida was thinking the same thing.