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"It's in the soul of a city/ What it does after it crumbles and burns/ And it's in the blood of a hero/ To know where he goes he may never return/ This is why we do it/ This is worth the pain/ This is why we fall down/ And get back up again/ This is where the heart lies/ This is from above/ Love is this, this is love..." - the Script, "This = Love"
Blaise was standing in front of the full length mirror in his closet, frowning at the reflection as if it would help him any. Perhaps he should've heeded his grandmother's advice and gotten a talking one, but he was sure it would just repeatedly point out a flaw to him. Or it could be like Theo's, where it continuously flirted with him until he had to lock it up in some deep closet in his house. Speaking of, he would have to check back up on Theo, see how he was doing. No matter how barmy he was, he had been Blaise's closest friend at one time, and he was still sure that he was Theo's only friend. Anyway, back to the point at hand - he was standing in only his boxers in front of the mirror, and inwardly panicking.
Did Muggles have specific colors for going to meet future in-laws? For wizards, the proper thing to wear was black, navy, or forest green dress robes, and witches could wear whatever seemed to be the formal equivalent. But Muggles...what was he supposed to do there? Should he just go with a navy or green shirt? But, if he went with green, Hermione would think he was just supporting Slytherin in front of her Muggle parents, who probably didn't think very highly of his House since the war. Navy, then. Should he wear a tie? What color tie? Would silver be proper? Or would he look too much like a Ravenclaw? Err, wait, were Ravenclaws blue and silver or blue and bronze? He was fairly certain they were blue and bronze, but he wasn't entirely sure.
"Blaise?" Hermione's voice called out, and he gave a very unmanly squeak before diving for clothing, snatching the navy dress shirt and quickly shoving his legs into dark, slim-fitting trousers. "Blaise, are you here?"
"Err, just a moment!" he called, "I'm panicking! Also, dressing, so I doubt it'd be best to come in!" He immediately paused in his endeavors, smacking himself in the forehead and cursing everything that had ever lead to him saying that. Merlin, why was he so frazzled about this woman?
"Take your time," she chuckled, just outside of his bedroom door. "Do you need help choosing?"
He finally got the trousers working properly, hoping into socks and shoes, "Actually, that would be incredibly kind of you, if you don't mind."
"Hardly, just let me know when I can come in," she sounded like she was smiling, but he could tell that it held no ill-will. It was refreshing, actually, to be around someone who smiled so much and didn't have something hidden behind it.
He walked to the door, opening it and offering her to come inside, but her eyes widened and she blushed the tiniest bit before stepping inside. He wondered about her reaction before realizing that he still didn't have his shirt on. He silently cursed the heavens, while also kind of thanking them that he was fit, and followed her to the closet as she picked up the navy shirt from the floor. Her hair was back in a careful little bun, no strands slipping out this time, and was in a black dress with tiny white dots, looking like something his grandmother had worn in her younger years. Paired with a pearl bracelet, she looked lovely, and beautiful, and other such adjectives.
"Stick with the navy, it suits you," she said, handing him the shirt and refusing to make eye contact. He slid it on quietly, buttoning it up as quickly as possible so she wouldn't be uncomfortable for much longer. As he tucked it into his pants, she came up and began to roll his sleeves up for him, leaving him to get a close view of her face, finding a sprinkle of freckles along her tiny button nose. She rolled both sleeves up, stepping back for a moment to appraise him before frowning and turning back to the closet. She came back out with a silver tie, putting it around her own neck and tying it on herself. He watched her in amusement, standing still as she lifted it over her own head and onto his, fitting it snugly into place before thinking better of it and loosening it for him. He took a breath, and was surprised to find the air surrounding him smelling like...sunshine, the oddest of things. With a blink, he realized it smelled like Hermione.
"I like your perfume, it's very nice," he said, causing her to blink back at him and give a small smile.
"I don't wear perfume, but thank you," she said, offering her arm to him, "Ready? We're going to Apparate there. Mum's already been given the warning, so she shouldn't be startled too badly."
He nodded, trying to match her easy smile and failing, as he held onto her and turned into space. They reappeared with a pop, landing themselves in a bedroom, with white, wispy curtains and a canopy over the bed and books on every available surface. Hermione's childhood bedroom, he noticed with a smile, before she gently took his hand and led him down some stairs, down a narrow hallway, and into a living room. It was done in red and cream colors, warm and cozy for the Grangers, and he froze once he realized that Mr. and Mrs. Granger were standing from the sectional that filled the entire corner of the room, and were coming to stand in front of him and Hermione.
Mrs. Granger immediately hugged her daughter, kissing her cheek and beaming at her. The woman had short brown curls that were beginning to grey, oval glasses resting on the peak of her nose. She was slim and petite, and dressed in slacks and a blouse. Mr. Granger was taller, more wiry than Blaise would've expected, and dressed much like his wife, although his hair was darker and even curlier than his wife's, matching his daughter's almost perfectly as he bent to hug her. Once they had properly greeted their daughter, they both turned and smiled kindly to Blaise. It was at this moment that he realized they'd been talking to one another, and he faltered and stammered before clearing his throat and offering his hand.
"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Granger, I'm Blaise Zabini. It's a pleasure to meet you, thank you for having me in your home." Thank Merlin for Pureblood manners and decorum and all that rubbish.
Mrs. Granger arched an eyebrow at him, and Mr. Granger and Hermione were smiling at each other, before the elder woman knocked his hand aside and enveloped him in a hug, startling him to pieces and making his mind go blank. The woman was hugging him. He'd just met this woman. Why was she hugging him? Did Muggles greet each other with hugs? Or did this woman greet others with hugs? Was he supposed to hug Mr. Granger? He really didn't want to, but he could if necessary.
"Thank you for being so polite, Blaise, but you can relax now," she said as she pulled away but held him at arms length, smiling brightly at him and making the crows feet around her eyes crinkle. "We won't hurt you, and we hardly blame you for the circumstances. And please, call me Nora."
Mr. Granger, however, offered his hand as Nora stepped away, making Blaise breathe ten times easier as he realized he wouldn't have to hug the other man, "Stephen, it's nice to meet you as well, Blaise. Hermione's told us about everything that's happened these past few days, and we hear that you've been through quite a bit?"
He sighed, relaxing already and giving the two a grin as he shook Stephen's hand, "Oh, you have no idea."
The two chuckled, and Stephen spoke as Hermione patted Blaise's shoulder, "Well, dinner will be ready soon. Are you a fan of Swiss steak?"
"I've never had it before, sir, but I'm sure it's delicious," he said.
"Damn right it is, I'm cooking," he said with a grin, leading the company into the kitchen with a wave of his hand, Nora snorting and rolling her eyes at her husband. "Nora was graced with all of the beauty, I got all of the cooking skills. Hermione, thankfully, was given both."
"I'm aware of both," Blaise said as Hermione began to blush up to her roots, glaring at her parents and digging her nails into Blaise's shoulder. This didn't deter him, however, as he only grinned, "She taught me how to properly make french toast just the other night."
"Oh, Lucy's recipe?" Nora brightened at her daughter, standing on her toes to reach the plates from the cabinet. Hermione, for her part, manually shut the blinds on the windows surrounding the table before reaching for her wand. Blaise, on the other hand, was already reaching for the plates that were stacked on the shelf, Nora blinking back at him before smiling happily at her daughter, who only grinned and pocketed her wand for the evening.
Swiss steak, as Blaise soon realized, was very thin beef that had been cooked with stewed tomatoes, served on top of white rice. It was chewy, but actually very good, and Blaise happily took to it.
"So, Blaise, what House were you in Hogwarts?" Nora asked casually across from him, and Blaise looked up only to find a warm, comforting face.
"Oh, err...I was in Slytherin, ma'am," he answered, expecting to find a gasp or some horrified glance between husband and wife.
Instead, Stephen only hummed around his dinner, "Is that the one with the snakes?"
"Yes, sir," he answered again, Hermione dutifully keeping her gaze on her plate when he most desperately needed her.
"Cunning and ambition, correct?" Nora questioned, taking a sip of her water.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, more slowly as he glanced again to Hermione, who was seated to his right.
"Oh, lovely, those are wonderful traits to have," Nora stated, smiling happily at him as he noticed Hermione had been smiling to herself the entire time, and gave him a cheeky wink once she looked up to take a sip of her water.
"So, Blaise, do you have a job?" Stephen asked eagerly, "I've heard different careers of the wizarding world from a few of Hermione's friends, and I think it's all terribly interesting."
"Oh, well...no, sir, I don't have a job," he answered quietly, thinking that this would surely be his downfall.
"Oh, well that's alright," Stephen assured him, "Hermione wanted to wait a bit too, to figure out what she wanted to do that would make her happiest. It makes all the difference, in my opinion."
"I waited six years before I went to college," Nora informed him, shrugging easily at him, "I just knew that I would bounce around with no idea what I really wanted to do, and would only waste time and money in the process."
"Err...well, I haven't really thought of having a job," he admitted, settling his cutlery down and rubbing his hands anxiously. "My family is...pretty well off, I guess I should say, so I never thought of having one as terribly important."
"Then what do you do all day? Any hobbies?" Stephen asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Well...I mostly read, sir," he answered, realizing that he would probably be the world's most incredibly dull man if he hadn't had his recent problems thrust onto him.
Nora immediately whipped around to her daughter, waving her fork and glaring sternly at her, and Blaise just knew that this was going to be the end of it, but Nora gave a small smile as Hermione lifted her head, "No, you can't spend all day, every day reading. We'd never see you again."
Hermione wrinkled her nose, making Stephen and Nora laugh at their daughter lovingly. "Spoilsport, you ruin my fun!"
"Don't feel the need to rush and find a job or anything, Blaise," Stephen insisted, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin before snorting, "I was delivering pizzas at the time I started dating Nora, and every time I visited, her father would badger me and ask me when I was going to get a better job."
"He would," Nora giggled to herself, "Even though Stephen insisted that he was going to dental school while he was delivering pizzas."
"And now I have the same job as his daughter, so he can't say anything more to me on the matter," Stephen said smugly before grimacing and smiling sweetly to his daughter. "Hermione, would you mind with the dishes while your mother and I talk in the living room?"
The brunette sighed, standing and taking the plates by hand, Blaise standing and helping her. They made their way to the kitchen sink, and Hermione showed him how to do them by hand.
"What do you think they're talking about?" he asked idly as he dried the dishes she handed him with a rag.
"How much they like you, and how much they like you more than they ever liked Ron," she answered with a smile.
"What happened to you two, anyway?" he asked quietly before realizing his error, "Err, that is, if you want me to know, of course."
She chuckled, "Like you said with Daphne, we were too different in all the ways it mattered. We're still good friends thought, because we broke it off before we started hating each other, but we just...hardly had much in common, other than a few things like our friendship with Harry."
"Was Weasley really that bad to make your parents hate him?"
"Oh, as a friend, no, he wasn't bad at all," she shrugged, "But when it's a boyfriend, or a potential spouse...well, there's certain criteria that he didn't quite fill, I suppose."
"And...did I?" he worried, and she smiled up at him before nudging him with her shoulder.
"Believe me, this one dinner went far better than all the ones they've had with Ron combined," she assured, and Blaise relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief. "I even told them how Crookshanks liked you, and that seemed to give you a stamp of approval before they ever even saw you."
"That picky, huh?" he teased, and she gave a laugh.
"You should see what that cat picks out to eat," she scoffed fondly.
They were silent for a few more moments, not hearing anything from the living room, which Blaise tried to ignore so he wouldn't panic too much before he paused in his task and turned to Hermione, who was nearly done.
"I lied to your parents," he admitted, and she blinked back at him. "I actually, err...I'm fond of drawing. I just haven't done it in a long while, because Daphne hated it."
"What a horrid person!" Hermione pursed her lips, her eyebrows coming down before she huffed and looked at him fiercely, "It's a wonderful skill to have, Blaise, don't ever let anyone deter you from it or anything else you enjoy!"
He blinked at her in surprise before smiling easily back at her, "Thank you, Hermione. It really means a lot."
She shrugged it off easily, only giving him a smile in return as she handed him the last pan to dry.
The evening ended smoothly, as the Grangers recounted family stories that made everyone laugh, even if Blaise had to be taught about a few Muggle concepts such as telephones and ski resorts. By the end of the night, after Hermione had Apparated him back to his flat, he was happily exhausted and wonderfully calm about the status of his in-laws. He collapsed onto his couch with a happy sigh, and Hermione gracefully joined him, undoing her hair and sighing once the pressure was released from her scalp.
"Well, now that that's settled," he announced as Hermione chuckled back at him before he grinned wickedly up at her, as he was slouched quite low on the cushions, "Now you just have to meet my family." He quickly dissolved into laughs as Hermione paled and looked quite distraught, and then began laughing even louder once she took to hitting him with the cushiest pillow he owned.
As far as he was concerned, things could only be smooth sailing for him from there.
Or so he thought.
Hello again! I just had the most perfect picture of the Grangers, and I had to get it out and to you as soon as possible, which meant today. I also love when I update things in a timely manner, as it doesn't normally happen all too often.
Thank you for reading, I would be honored if you took the time to leave me a review! Have a wonderful day!