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I wasn't going to post this, and then I did, but then I took it down, like, 20 minutes later. Fuck it. Here it is.
FYI: This is not Thousandth Man-verse
Harry Potter
Blaise Zabini/var.
The Things That Make Us Who We Are
Blaise Zabini has dark curling hair that grows in a counter-clockwise cowlick and bright green eyes that never seem to go dark. He's neither tall nor short, and his frame is neither thin nor large. He is average in all the physical ways -- except he's not. No Zabini has ever been an average anything, and Blaise will not be the first one to bring disgrace on the family line.
Blaise also has flawless skin -- except for the pale scar on his shoulder from where his twin brother and sister, Rene and Mason, tried to teach him how to ride a broom by throwing him off the second-floor balcony holding a first edition StarJammer 1988 -- and he has a very keen mind.
He could be first in his year in everything if he were so inclined, but Blaise's ambitions will never be served by books and lessons and paying more attention when his professors drone on in their ceaseless monotones.
He's not terrible hard to understand -- he likes what he likes, and he does what he likes. He's not cruel, but he is calculating, and the difference between Blaise and someone like Draco is that Blaise doesn't have to be unpleasant just to have something to do.
Blaise knows he is a worthy Slytherin -- he doesn't have to justify himself to anyone.
*
The first boy that Blaise Zabini ever kissed was Draco Malfoy -- they were nine.
The kiss occurred in one of the linen closets in Malfoy Manor while Blaise's father and Draco's father were having a meeting to discuss whatever it was that followers of the Dark Lord discussed while he was not around. Blaise and Draco were sitting on the floor on the linen closet, playing with Draco's Quidditch for Kids play-set, and while Draco was vastly entertained by the tiny golden snitch that flittered around the room, Blaise was only pretending to be amused.
At one point the snitch whirled in front of Blaise's face, and when he swatted it away in irritation, it flew into Draco's face and poked him in the nose. The quivering lower lip and the sniffling response were almost instantaneous, and rather than putting up with a sulking Draco for who knew how many hours, Blaise leaned forward and pressed his lips against Draco's mouth.
Draco's machinations ceased immediately, and when Blaise pulled away Draco seemed rather shocked, but he was quiet -- which was what Blaise had sought.
It was only after Blaise and his father had left Malfoy Manor and were safely back at home that Blaise wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and wrinkled his nose.
Draco's mouth was anything but soft.
*
It's a common misconception that Slytherin ambition is limited to money and power and prestige. These things aren't to be scoffed at, certainly, but there are other things in the world to want -- new robes, an expansive knowledge of hexes, loyalty, companionship, the assurance that your family will not rot away in Azkaban.
These desires are more common among most Slytherins than one to wipe out the Muggles and follow a corpse -- but only the foolish would ever say as much. After all, Blaise wants a lot of things in his life -- and the majority of them have nothing to do with Dark Marks or being a minion to an incompetent prat who might get everyone killed -- but he knows better than to say this to the wrong person.
Blaise would be perfectly happy living in a fabulous pensione in Firenze and spending his days sipping espresso in the piazza across from the Duomo. If he has to kill people to get to this ideal somewhere down the line, it's unfortunate, but Blaise is no one's martyr.
*
The first girl that Blaise Zabini ever kissed was Queenie Greengrass. It was the winter break during their third year at Hogwarts, and Blaise had accompanied his mother, Gemma, when she called on Queenie's mother to discuss whatever it was that Slytherin mothers discussed to distract them from thoughts of the Dark Lord and husbands with Dark Marks.
Blaise was out of sorts because his mother has insisted he accompany her on her visit instead of staying at home with Mason and Rene, who were visiting from Napoli and Lisbon, respectively.
Queenie and Blaise were sitting in the Greengrass sitting room, while their mothers talked robes and gatherings, and after some time Queenie slipped off the sofa across from Blaise and motioned for him to follow. Several twists and turns and passageways later, Blaise found himself in the Greengrass solarium, which was cold and bright and full of plants that Blaise would never be able to identify.
They passed several hours talking of school and their courses as Queenie picked flowers and arranged them in a translucent silver vase that Blaise had mistaken for a water jug; and Queenie was inquiring after Blaise's thoughts regarding the prospects of the Slytherin Quidditch team when Blaise leaned over and kissed her on the corner of her mouth.
The kiss was awkward and ill-timed, and Queenie pulled away as though Blaise were something unpleasant and gross.
"Oh, really, Blaise -- try to have some restraint," she said, wiping at her mouth as though Blaise carried an infectious disease.
Blaise frowned and wiped at his own mouth with the back of his hand. "I assure you I wasn't exactly overcome with lust, if that's what you're thinking."
Queenie rolled her eyes. "Obviously not, since anyone with half a brain knows you're already involved."
Blaise's face slipped into a blank mask. "I don't know what you're talking about, Queenie."
"Try to make it more convincing when you're telling your mother that, would you?"
Blaise's mask cracked for a moment. "Why would I tell my mother anything?"
"Don't play dense with me, Blaise, it's very unbecoming. It's obvious that you're here because our parents are hoping that something might happen between you and I, but I think you and I both know that that's not on -- is it?"
Blaise blinked and then frowned. "They are rather obvious, aren't they?"
Queenie smirked. "No one ever said Slytherins were well-known for their tact, did they?"
*
The first story Blaise's mother ever told him was about how he was supposed to be a girl -- but like all Zabinis before him -- he had had the audacity not to follow the instructions and came out a boy instead.
Gemma Blavatsky Zabini had slept for two days after the birth of her son, but when she woke up and found out that he was a 'he' instead of a 'she', well, she was livid. And apparently, she was also rather cross as now she had to explain to Anora Nott why their children could no longer be Promised. Except that no one bothered to explain that to Theodore and Blaise -- and while they didn't consider themselves Promised or betrothed or any of those other emotional titles that had, on occasion, made Blaise break out in a rash -- they did share a rather strong bond.
*
The first time Blaise kissed Theodore Nott was a week before the start of their fifth year at Hogwarts.
Blaise had come to stay at Nott Terrace before the start of classes as he often did, and they were standing at the top of the foyer's stairs in Nott Terrace talking with the portrait of Theodore's Great-Uncle Reginald, who was imploring Theodore never to get married.
Before Theodore could respond, Blaise grabbed a fistful of his silk dark hair and kissed him hard on the mouth. Theodore made a small noise of surprise against Blaise's mouth, but after a moment parted his lips and kissed Blaise back.
It was a better kiss than most Blaise had had -- Theodore seemed less concerned with propriety and more with Blaise's tongue, and when Blaise finally released his hair, Theodore pulled away slowly.
Theodore opened his mouth to say something and was cut off by the portrait which had just witnessed their display.
"Well then," said Great-Uncle Reginald. "I guess we don't have to worry about that marriage business, eh, boy?"
Theodore had rolled his eyes as Blaise and Reginald had chuckled, but later on that evening, long after the lights had gone out in the house, Blaise slipped into bed besides Theodore and curled himself against the warmth of Theodore's side.
Theodore said nothing, but shifted slightly so that Blaise wasn't sleeping on his arm, and Blaise fell asleep with Theodore's fingers entwined in his hair.
It wasn't the most remarkable display of masculinity Blaise had ever shown, but it was what he wanted at the time and that was more than enough.
He knew the most important thing -- a true Slytherin never answered to anyone else.
-end-
Queenie Greengrass property of
serialkarma. Blaise icon courtesy of Circe.
Notes: After discussion with
circe_tigana the Zabinis have been cast thusly:
Lorenzo Zabini -- Jeremy Irons
Gemma Blavatsky Zabini - Helen Mirren
Rene Zabini - Crispin Bonham Carter
Mason Zabini - Helena Bonham Carter
Blaise Zabini - Henry Cavill (copyright
ethrosdemon)
FYI: This is not Thousandth Man-verse
Harry Potter
Blaise Zabini/var.
The Things That Make Us Who We Are
Blaise Zabini has dark curling hair that grows in a counter-clockwise cowlick and bright green eyes that never seem to go dark. He's neither tall nor short, and his frame is neither thin nor large. He is average in all the physical ways -- except he's not. No Zabini has ever been an average anything, and Blaise will not be the first one to bring disgrace on the family line.
Blaise also has flawless skin -- except for the pale scar on his shoulder from where his twin brother and sister, Rene and Mason, tried to teach him how to ride a broom by throwing him off the second-floor balcony holding a first edition StarJammer 1988 -- and he has a very keen mind.
He could be first in his year in everything if he were so inclined, but Blaise's ambitions will never be served by books and lessons and paying more attention when his professors drone on in their ceaseless monotones.
He's not terrible hard to understand -- he likes what he likes, and he does what he likes. He's not cruel, but he is calculating, and the difference between Blaise and someone like Draco is that Blaise doesn't have to be unpleasant just to have something to do.
Blaise knows he is a worthy Slytherin -- he doesn't have to justify himself to anyone.
The first boy that Blaise Zabini ever kissed was Draco Malfoy -- they were nine.
The kiss occurred in one of the linen closets in Malfoy Manor while Blaise's father and Draco's father were having a meeting to discuss whatever it was that followers of the Dark Lord discussed while he was not around. Blaise and Draco were sitting on the floor on the linen closet, playing with Draco's Quidditch for Kids play-set, and while Draco was vastly entertained by the tiny golden snitch that flittered around the room, Blaise was only pretending to be amused.
At one point the snitch whirled in front of Blaise's face, and when he swatted it away in irritation, it flew into Draco's face and poked him in the nose. The quivering lower lip and the sniffling response were almost instantaneous, and rather than putting up with a sulking Draco for who knew how many hours, Blaise leaned forward and pressed his lips against Draco's mouth.
Draco's machinations ceased immediately, and when Blaise pulled away Draco seemed rather shocked, but he was quiet -- which was what Blaise had sought.
It was only after Blaise and his father had left Malfoy Manor and were safely back at home that Blaise wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and wrinkled his nose.
Draco's mouth was anything but soft.
It's a common misconception that Slytherin ambition is limited to money and power and prestige. These things aren't to be scoffed at, certainly, but there are other things in the world to want -- new robes, an expansive knowledge of hexes, loyalty, companionship, the assurance that your family will not rot away in Azkaban.
These desires are more common among most Slytherins than one to wipe out the Muggles and follow a corpse -- but only the foolish would ever say as much. After all, Blaise wants a lot of things in his life -- and the majority of them have nothing to do with Dark Marks or being a minion to an incompetent prat who might get everyone killed -- but he knows better than to say this to the wrong person.
Blaise would be perfectly happy living in a fabulous pensione in Firenze and spending his days sipping espresso in the piazza across from the Duomo. If he has to kill people to get to this ideal somewhere down the line, it's unfortunate, but Blaise is no one's martyr.
The first girl that Blaise Zabini ever kissed was Queenie Greengrass. It was the winter break during their third year at Hogwarts, and Blaise had accompanied his mother, Gemma, when she called on Queenie's mother to discuss whatever it was that Slytherin mothers discussed to distract them from thoughts of the Dark Lord and husbands with Dark Marks.
Blaise was out of sorts because his mother has insisted he accompany her on her visit instead of staying at home with Mason and Rene, who were visiting from Napoli and Lisbon, respectively.
Queenie and Blaise were sitting in the Greengrass sitting room, while their mothers talked robes and gatherings, and after some time Queenie slipped off the sofa across from Blaise and motioned for him to follow. Several twists and turns and passageways later, Blaise found himself in the Greengrass solarium, which was cold and bright and full of plants that Blaise would never be able to identify.
They passed several hours talking of school and their courses as Queenie picked flowers and arranged them in a translucent silver vase that Blaise had mistaken for a water jug; and Queenie was inquiring after Blaise's thoughts regarding the prospects of the Slytherin Quidditch team when Blaise leaned over and kissed her on the corner of her mouth.
The kiss was awkward and ill-timed, and Queenie pulled away as though Blaise were something unpleasant and gross.
"Oh, really, Blaise -- try to have some restraint," she said, wiping at her mouth as though Blaise carried an infectious disease.
Blaise frowned and wiped at his own mouth with the back of his hand. "I assure you I wasn't exactly overcome with lust, if that's what you're thinking."
Queenie rolled her eyes. "Obviously not, since anyone with half a brain knows you're already involved."
Blaise's face slipped into a blank mask. "I don't know what you're talking about, Queenie."
"Try to make it more convincing when you're telling your mother that, would you?"
Blaise's mask cracked for a moment. "Why would I tell my mother anything?"
"Don't play dense with me, Blaise, it's very unbecoming. It's obvious that you're here because our parents are hoping that something might happen between you and I, but I think you and I both know that that's not on -- is it?"
Blaise blinked and then frowned. "They are rather obvious, aren't they?"
Queenie smirked. "No one ever said Slytherins were well-known for their tact, did they?"
The first story Blaise's mother ever told him was about how he was supposed to be a girl -- but like all Zabinis before him -- he had had the audacity not to follow the instructions and came out a boy instead.
Gemma Blavatsky Zabini had slept for two days after the birth of her son, but when she woke up and found out that he was a 'he' instead of a 'she', well, she was livid. And apparently, she was also rather cross as now she had to explain to Anora Nott why their children could no longer be Promised. Except that no one bothered to explain that to Theodore and Blaise -- and while they didn't consider themselves Promised or betrothed or any of those other emotional titles that had, on occasion, made Blaise break out in a rash -- they did share a rather strong bond.
The first time Blaise kissed Theodore Nott was a week before the start of their fifth year at Hogwarts.
Blaise had come to stay at Nott Terrace before the start of classes as he often did, and they were standing at the top of the foyer's stairs in Nott Terrace talking with the portrait of Theodore's Great-Uncle Reginald, who was imploring Theodore never to get married.
Before Theodore could respond, Blaise grabbed a fistful of his silk dark hair and kissed him hard on the mouth. Theodore made a small noise of surprise against Blaise's mouth, but after a moment parted his lips and kissed Blaise back.
It was a better kiss than most Blaise had had -- Theodore seemed less concerned with propriety and more with Blaise's tongue, and when Blaise finally released his hair, Theodore pulled away slowly.
Theodore opened his mouth to say something and was cut off by the portrait which had just witnessed their display.
"Well then," said Great-Uncle Reginald. "I guess we don't have to worry about that marriage business, eh, boy?"
Theodore had rolled his eyes as Blaise and Reginald had chuckled, but later on that evening, long after the lights had gone out in the house, Blaise slipped into bed besides Theodore and curled himself against the warmth of Theodore's side.
Theodore said nothing, but shifted slightly so that Blaise wasn't sleeping on his arm, and Blaise fell asleep with Theodore's fingers entwined in his hair.
It wasn't the most remarkable display of masculinity Blaise had ever shown, but it was what he wanted at the time and that was more than enough.
He knew the most important thing -- a true Slytherin never answered to anyone else.
-end-
Queenie Greengrass property of
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Notes: After discussion with
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Lorenzo Zabini -- Jeremy Irons
Gemma Blavatsky Zabini - Helen Mirren
Rene Zabini - Crispin Bonham Carter
Mason Zabini - Helena Bonham Carter
Blaise Zabini - Henry Cavill (copyright
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 09:11 am (UTC)*happy sigh* Just from that, I think I could get on with Blaise quite well. And he does have excellent, if fumbling, taste to boot.
I'm ever so glad you posted this. I saw it originally, but it was gone before I could read it. *sniff*
no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 04:59 pm (UTC)I got cold feet. I admit it. But I'm so glad you like him :)
no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 09:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 05:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 07:42 pm (UTC)Ah, the luck of the Irish. skill had nothing to do with it.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 09:16 am (UTC)Also, the Bonham-Carters? Brilliance. I started making Zabini icons last night. But dude, I found this incredible picture of Helen Mirren and Ian McKellen. Maybe he's her brother or father or something? Remind me to email it to you later.
or actually, here it is.
Date: 2004-11-15 09:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 05:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 09:28 am (UTC)If he has to kill people to get to this ideal somewhere down the line, it's unfortunate, but Blaise is no one's martyr.
::swoons::
no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 05:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 10:33 am (UTC)i think i may love you for that line alone. i shall attempt to make it as unobtusive a love as possible, however. ;)
no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 05:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 11:08 am (UTC)he had had the audacity not to follow the instructions and came out a boy instead.
Love love love.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 05:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 11:36 am (UTC)Blaise.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 05:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-16 09:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 05:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-16 09:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 06:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-16 09:18 am (UTC)I've never heard of the song, no, I named Gemma after Madam Blavatsky, a rather well-known practitioner of witchcraft in late 19th C London.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-16 01:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 10:12 pm (UTC)Every time I think that I couldn't love your writing more, something like this comes along and blows me away.
You are going to get sick of my fangirling one of these days.
They passed several hours talking of school and their courses as Queenie picked flowers and arranged them in a translucent silver vase that Theodore had mistaken for a water jug
Question: is that meant to be a reference to our dear Master Nott, or was it just a simple mistake? Honest confusion this time, not just nitpicking.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-16 09:14 am (UTC)No, that's a Freudian slip is what that is.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-16 10:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-16 04:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-16 05:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-16 08:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-16 09:19 am (UTC)