Charmed (Blaise/Ginny, PG)
Title: Charmed
Author/Artist:
Characters: Ginny Weasley and Blaise Zabini
Prompt number: 39
Word Count: ~4260
Rating: PG/K+
Warnings: None
Summary: When Blaise offers to help Ginny catch up in Arithmancy, she is skeptical, but it doesn't take long for her to take him seriously… and find him charming.
Disclaimer: All recognisable characters, items and places belong to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this work.
Author’s Notes: Set during GoF. Also, Gelsey is the best friend and beta I could ask for!
The first time she had spoken to the dark Slytherin who could speak volumes with one look alone was in the back of the library near the restricted section early on in her third year. She had been positive he'd just come from the restricted section, though she couldn't fathom what he'd need from it or how he'd gained access to it, a privilege only awarded to NEWT-level students unless they had a note from a Professor. She'd froze in the middle of the walkway, as though a startled deer in the woods, poised to run but not yet certain that was necessary.
"If you don't mind," he'd said pointedly, one dark eyebrow raised expectantly.
"Oh, uh, sorry," she'd mumbled, shifting out of the way so he could get past without brushing against her. Her cheeks were burning brightly though she hoped it wasn't noticeable in the dim light of this part of the library. In her movement, a bit of parchment gusted from the top of the stack in her arms, drifting to the floor. In the time it took her to turn to set her stack of books and parchment on a table and then stoop down to pick it up he'd already bent down to retrieve it. Her hand brushed the top of his, and she blushed deeper, pulling her hand back as if it had been burned.
"You should be more careful with your things, Ginevra," he murmured to her, voice smooth as silk and causing a completely different sort of blush to stain her cheeks. Standing upright again, he reached around her to set the parchment atop her stack, bringing his body quite close to her own and causing her breath to catch in her throat. What was wrong with her?! And just why did he think it appropriate to call her by her full first name, as if they were familiar enough for that sort of thing.
"Of course," was all she said on the matter, however, and then he was gone. Her eyes watched his retreating back, her head tilted to the side, her curiosity about the Slytherin piqued.
The second time she'd spoken to him had been a completely unexpected sort of thing. It had been just two days after their first interaction in the library. She'd gone back to the library to study, her things spread out on a desk before her. Luckily, the library was rather quiet, which was something she enjoyed when she actually wanted to study. The common room was far too loud, especially with all the excitement as they prepared for the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to arrive for the Triwizard Tournament in just over a week.
As she rifled through her parchment, she spotted one that was a different shade from her others, a better quality too, she noticed, but that wasn't what had caught her eye. No, as she stared at it, ink scratched over the page as if someone were writing on it, but no one was. Her blood ran cold, her face losing all color. A shaking hand lifted the parchment so that she might read the words written in a tidy, elegant script.
Good morning, Ginevra.
Even as she stared at the parchment, more words appeared on the page.
You look as though you've seen a ghost. Calm down, my dear. I'm simply testing a charm that will allow people to communicate instantaneously through paired bits of parchment. Do write back so I might know if it works both ways.
Ginny swallowed and set the parchment down before scooting back in her chair a moment, considering. She wasn't certain who was writing to her, though she might have had an inkling due to his calling her Ginevra. He'd done so two days prior, as well, and the memory was fresh enough that she shivered faintly. And then she realized he'd spoken to her current appearance, and she looked around anxiously for him.
I haven't got all day, Ginevra. If you please.
Narrowing her eyes, she picked up her quill and dipped it in her inkwell, considering for a moment what she ought to write back to him.
Wouldn't it be far simpler to test this with a friend?
Her writing was far less neat than his, but she tried not to let that bother her. It wasn't long before his tidy script appeared below hers.
And miss an opportunity such as this?
Her eyes narrowed again, her mind drifting back two years. She'd never discovered how Riddle had charmed the diary to work the way it had, but she'd always assumed it had something to do with the way he'd trapped a bit of himself into it. How else could he have communicated with her through it? And now she wondered if Zabini had done something similar. Was he dabbling in the dark arts? Is that how he'd been able to charm the parchment for them to talk to each other through it?
Where did you find this charm?
She didn't really anticipate him answering her honestly, if at all, but she'd had to ask.
I didn't find it. I created it.
I don't believe you.
I'd show you my research and the arithmancy involved, but you probably wouldn't understand it. You're not taking arithmancy, are you?
No, I'm not. But I'm not stupid.
I know you're not. You really should be taking arithmancy. It's extraordinarily useful when paired with charms. I bet if you asked Professors McGonagall and Vector, they would let you join the class. I could help you catch up.
Why do you care?
I hate to see raw talent go to waste.
What do you know of my talents?
I know you could fly circles around Potter and that you're brilliant at defense. You might even be able to give me a bit of a challenge were we to duel. I would win, naturally, but you wouldn't be easily bested.
You're awfully cocky, aren't you?
I grow on you.
Like mould?
Talk to the Professors and let me know when you've started.
Good bye, Zabini.
📜
She hadn't been able to get the thought out of her head after that, and she'd mentally cursed Blaise Zabini several times over the next few days as she thought about it. Her dream was to play Quidditch professionally, but who knew if she would ever get a spot on the house team--she would try, but barring anything extreme happening, it would be at least a couple years before she had a chance to try out, as she had no interest in playing Keeper--and Zabini was right about one thing: Arithmancy did have a valuable place amongst charms work, which she thought might be a good second choice for her if Quidditch didn't work out.
And she couldn't deny that she was painfully curious about how he'd charmed the parchment and what other things he might be able to teach her.
And so, Ginny Weasley went to Professor McGonagall first, requesting special permission to join the Arithmancy class while also dropping Divination. It didn't take much to convince the Professor that Arithmancy would be a better use of her time. Professor Vector was a harder sell, but when Ginny had assured her that she had a tutor lined up willing to help her catch up, the strict Professor had agreed to let her sit a placement test to determine if she thought the youngest Weasley would be able to not only catch up to where the other students were but excel in her class.
It certainly wasn't an easy test, but Ginny read each question carefully and did the best she could on it. Professor Vector had her stay at the desk in her classroom as she graded the test, and then finally the stern witch finally gave her approval for the late entrance.
Despite the excitement churning in her stomach at passing the impromptu test the Professor had given her, Ginny waited until she could sneak away to the library to pull out the bit of charmed parchment and write Zabini a message.
I'm in.
He didn't reply right away, and so she started pulling things out of her bag, spreading out on the desk in front of her so she could start working toward catching up. She wondered if she ought to tell Hermione she'd switched classes and see if the other witch would want to help her catch up, but she decided not to, at least not right away. Knowing Hermione, she would likely set up a strict studying schedule for her with requirements far stricter than Vector might have.
So caught up was she in her studying that she didn't notice anyone approach, so when the heavy tome was dropped on the desk directly in front of her, the sound resonating through the quiet library, Ginny nearly jumped out of her skin.
"Bloody hell, Zabini!" she cursed when she spotted his smirking face as he leaned next to her.
"Shall we get started then, Ginevra?" he suggested, taking a seat without bothering to wait for an invitation from her.
Maybe she should have gone with Hermione instead…
📜
Blaise Zabini proved to be a highly effective tutor. His was a voice that demanded attention, soft and smooth when he wanted it to, with just the right amount of inflection and intonation as he explained the foundational concepts of arithmancy. Ginny found that she simply couldn't be distracted away from what he had to say, though there were times when she had to look away lest he see the warmth in her cheeks that had seemed to spread from her belly.
Hermione had told her to consider dating other boys instead of just waiting around for Harry. Somehow she didn't think Blaise Zabini was what her friend had in mind.
Not that it mattered, as there was no way he would ever think of her that way.
"Have I lost you?" his voice pierced through her drifting thoughts, and she found her eyes darting back to meet his dark orbs.
"Oh, er, no. I've just remembered… I've got to go, but we'll pick back up in a couple days, yeah?" Since the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students would be arriving tomorrow, and then Halloween the next day, things would be rather busy.
The look he gave her felt rather penetrating, and she fought not to squirm beneath his gaze. Once he nodded, she gathered up her books and notes, tucking them away in her bag before taking her leave. It was taking far more effort than she was comfortable with to ignore the attraction she was feeling toward her Slytherin tutor, but she needed to. As much as she wanted to take Hermione's advice and date other boys, she dreaded the thought of Harry thinking he wasn't important to her.
📜
The next month passed in a blur. Between her extra studies to catch up in Arithmancy and trying to help Ron keep a level head despite his fury at Harry's apparent betrayal, she'd felt like she'd barely had enough time to sleep. But by the time the first Triwizard Tournament task arrived, she felt like she was actually nearly caught up to her classmates in Arithmancy. Harry survived and Ron finally forgave him, and it just simply felt a little easier to breathe.
What Ginny hadn't been able to sort out yet was what in the world her strange feelings for Blaise were about. Nor was she certain just when she'd started to think of him by his first name, just that she had.
When the announcement was made regarding the Yule Ball, she was at first disappointed. Naturally, it would only be allowed for fourth years and up, she thought with some frustration. But then Neville had asked her quite shyly if she might like to accompany him to the dance, and she'd readily said yes, assuming he would be the only one kind enough to ask a third year to the dance. It was only later that night when she was finally alone in the limited privacy of her bed with the drapes drawn around it that she allowed herself to feel a little bit of disappointment.
Surprisingly, it wasn't that Harry hadn't asked her, it was that Blaise hadn't.
She hadn't even had a chance to ask him if he had a date, to implant the idea in his head that she would make a decent enough date. It didn't matter, though. It wasn't like he ever would have asked her, anyway. And it was because of that mentality that when she pulled the charmed parchment out, thinking of him and considering possibly writing to him, she was surprised to see a message from him already there.
Will you be attending the Yule Ball?
Ginny pulled her lower lip between her teeth, one finger coming up to trace over his tidy script. Gods, honestly, how did he learn to write so elegantly? She was nearly jealous of it, though not enough to try to improve her own handwriting to his level.
I will, yeah. Neville's asked me.
Interesting. I'll look forward to seeing you there, Ginevra. Perhaps you'll even save me a dance.
It didn't seem like a question, and she was relieved no one was around to see the heavy blush staining her cheeks. He wanted to dance with her? How bizarre.
Perhaps I will. Good night, Blaise.
She tucked the parchment away and tucked herself in under her covers, saying "Nox" to turn out the light. And when she dreamed that night, it was of her spinning around a dancefloor in the arms of a dark suitor.
📜
"That does not look like Arithmancy," Blaise pointed out in an almost chiding tone with a raised brow as he slid into the seat next to Ginny's preferred desk in the library.
She resisted, just barely, rolling her eyes at him. "How astute of you. No, I'm working on potions." Sighing, she tossed her quill on the tabletop and then rubbed a hand over her forehead. Why in the bleeding hell did Snape have to make things as absolutely complicated as he could. It was frustrating, and she couldn't help thinking she might actually enjoy the subject if she had a better teacher for it. "But I am more than happy to switch tracks, though I'm not sure I actually need you to help me catch up anymore. I'm fairly well caught up now," she pointed out, realizing a moment later how rude and ungrateful she sounded.
"Tutoring you is good review for me," was all Blaise said on the topic, though there was a certain look in his eye that made her wonder if there was more going on beneath the surface. Still, she certainly wasn't going to complain that he was sticking around, strange as it still struck her at times. "And besides, if you stick with me you'll get ahead of your classmates," he pointed out smugly.
"You say that as if you're talking to Hermione," she retorted. She simply didn't have the same drive her friend did to be at the top of her class. It was enough for her to do well, but it did amuse her that he seemed to think she might care about that.
Blaise studied her for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable. "Humor me," he finally suggested.
"All right, fine, let's get back to it then," she agreed with a dramatic sigh, her lips twitching as she held back a grin.
📜
Do you have a date to the Yule Ball?
She'd finally drummed up the courage to ask him, to probe into whether or not he was dating anyone. Not that it mattered, as the idea of them ever dating each other was ridiculous. But there was still that part of her, that small part, that was drawn to the darkness he represented as a Slytherin. And he hadn't even shown any signs of that sort of darkness, anyway. A bit of dark humor, perhaps, and a willingness to bend the rules to accomplish what he set out to, but in all their tutoring sessions and conversations on the parchment, she'd never got the impression he was cold or cruel.
I do, of a sorts. Why do you ask?
Curiosity. So who are you going with then?
Astoria Greengrass
Ginny knew Astoria, of course, being in the same year as the Ravenclaw. She was quiet and seemed far more pleasant than her sister, Daphne, and she was pretty--far prettier than Ginny thought herself to be, and also far curvier. It seemed impossible that Blaise might notice her, flat-chested and narrow-hipped, when he would have Astoria Greengrass on his arm.
Oh, I suppose you won't need me to save you that dance after all then?
I don't believe I said that.
Ginny flushed, not sure what that meant but relieved that he couldn't see her. As terrifying as this parchment was when she'd first found it amongst her things, she'd grown to treasure the thing. It was far easier to be brave through this parchment than it was talking to him in person.
Astoria won't mind if you dance with another girl?
Astoria is a good friend of mine who wasn't going to be able to come unless asked by an older student, same as you. But she's not my girlfriend. I assure you, we will both be dancing with other people as well as one another.
Oh, I see. Could you imagine the look on my brother's face if he saw us dancing? It would be worth it for that alone.
As long as he doesn't draw his wand on me. I would hate to have to hex him in the middle of the ball.
Oh no, he's far more likely to start a screaming match.
Then I might have to simply render him silent. I'll be doing the whole castle a favor.
I'm not sure I can argue that. Anyway, I should get to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow?
Of course. Good night, Ginevra.
Good night, Blaise.
📜
When Christmas finally arrived, Ginny spent the morning holed away in Gryffindor tower with her brothers and their closest friends. It was a bit strange to have not gone home for the holiday, but this was an exciting reason to stay at the castle, and she was thrilled to be going. When the time had come to get ready, she'd broke off with Hermione, knowing her friend had a rather special date to the ball and wanting to help make sure everyone's jaws dropped when they saw her.
Hermione urged her ahead, wanting to wait until most everyone had cleared out before she headed down to meet up with Viktor, and so she slipped out to meet Neville in the common room, her green dress robes feeling far fancier than anything she was used to wearing despite it being second-hand. She flushed when Neville stammered out a greeting and compliment before escorting her down.
The Great Hall was gorgeous, and she had a wonderful time dancing with Neville and a few of her other housemates. Still, she found her eyes wandering the hall, seeking out the Slytherin who'd plagued her thoughts for weeks now. She almost didn't recognize him when she first saw him. He always looked well-groomed, but he looked positively dashing in his dress robes. Even so, it was late in the evening by the time she found her way to him. She hoped that he attributed the flush in her cheeks to her dancing throughout the evening, though she couldn't deny to herself that it had something to do with his proximity.
"Ginevra," he greeted her warmly, holding out his hand and offering her a slight bow.
"Blaise," she returned, slipping her hand into his and letting him pull her out onto the dance floor.
He twirled her around and pulled her in close, his feet moving with far more talent than any of the other boys she'd danced with that night. It was easy to follow his lead and easier still to forget everything else but the lightness he made her feel. The song shifted to something slower, and he slid his arm around her back, holding her close to him, his dark eyes looking down into hers in a way that made it impossible for her to look away.
She'd never been kissed before, and in that moment, she desperately wanted to know what it would be like to be kissed by him.
It seemed as if he read her mind because a moment later, he was closing the distance between them, his lips brushing lightly against hers once, twice. It was almost teasing, testing, and she returned the gentle brush of lips, her heart racing. She didn't want the moment to end, wanting to savor it instead, and she smiled softly, almost shyly, when he stood up fully again.
"I should get back to my… to Neville," she whispered loud enough for only him to hear over the Weird Sisters.
"Of course," he replied just as quietly, stepping back with a slight nod of acknowledgement to her.
It was nearly midnight by the time she returned to her dorm, and she flopped on her bed still wearing her dress robes. Casting a silencing charm around her bed, she finally let herself release the absurdly girly sound of joy for how the night had gone before pulling out the charmed parchment. She paused, surprised when she saw a new message already waiting for her.
You looked absolutely radiant tonight, Ginvera. I only wish I'd had the opportunity to escort you myself.
Biting her lower lip, she thought for a long moment of how to respond to that message, or if there was anything she could say in response without sounding ridiculous.
Perhaps next time, then.
Unable to help herself, Ginny fell asleep that night with a smile on her lips and the thought that perhaps Hermione had been onto something when she'd suggested Ginny date other boys.
Author/Artist:
Characters: Ginny Weasley and Blaise Zabini
Prompt number: 39
Word Count: ~4260
Rating: PG/K+
Warnings: None
Summary: When Blaise offers to help Ginny catch up in Arithmancy, she is skeptical, but it doesn't take long for her to take him seriously… and find him charming.
Disclaimer: All recognisable characters, items and places belong to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this work.
Author’s Notes: Set during GoF. Also, Gelsey is the best friend and beta I could ask for!
The first time she had spoken to the dark Slytherin who could speak volumes with one look alone was in the back of the library near the restricted section early on in her third year. She had been positive he'd just come from the restricted section, though she couldn't fathom what he'd need from it or how he'd gained access to it, a privilege only awarded to NEWT-level students unless they had a note from a Professor. She'd froze in the middle of the walkway, as though a startled deer in the woods, poised to run but not yet certain that was necessary.
"If you don't mind," he'd said pointedly, one dark eyebrow raised expectantly.
"Oh, uh, sorry," she'd mumbled, shifting out of the way so he could get past without brushing against her. Her cheeks were burning brightly though she hoped it wasn't noticeable in the dim light of this part of the library. In her movement, a bit of parchment gusted from the top of the stack in her arms, drifting to the floor. In the time it took her to turn to set her stack of books and parchment on a table and then stoop down to pick it up he'd already bent down to retrieve it. Her hand brushed the top of his, and she blushed deeper, pulling her hand back as if it had been burned.
"You should be more careful with your things, Ginevra," he murmured to her, voice smooth as silk and causing a completely different sort of blush to stain her cheeks. Standing upright again, he reached around her to set the parchment atop her stack, bringing his body quite close to her own and causing her breath to catch in her throat. What was wrong with her?! And just why did he think it appropriate to call her by her full first name, as if they were familiar enough for that sort of thing.
"Of course," was all she said on the matter, however, and then he was gone. Her eyes watched his retreating back, her head tilted to the side, her curiosity about the Slytherin piqued.
The second time she'd spoken to him had been a completely unexpected sort of thing. It had been just two days after their first interaction in the library. She'd gone back to the library to study, her things spread out on a desk before her. Luckily, the library was rather quiet, which was something she enjoyed when she actually wanted to study. The common room was far too loud, especially with all the excitement as they prepared for the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to arrive for the Triwizard Tournament in just over a week.
As she rifled through her parchment, she spotted one that was a different shade from her others, a better quality too, she noticed, but that wasn't what had caught her eye. No, as she stared at it, ink scratched over the page as if someone were writing on it, but no one was. Her blood ran cold, her face losing all color. A shaking hand lifted the parchment so that she might read the words written in a tidy, elegant script.
Good morning, Ginevra.
Even as she stared at the parchment, more words appeared on the page.
You look as though you've seen a ghost. Calm down, my dear. I'm simply testing a charm that will allow people to communicate instantaneously through paired bits of parchment. Do write back so I might know if it works both ways.
Ginny swallowed and set the parchment down before scooting back in her chair a moment, considering. She wasn't certain who was writing to her, though she might have had an inkling due to his calling her Ginevra. He'd done so two days prior, as well, and the memory was fresh enough that she shivered faintly. And then she realized he'd spoken to her current appearance, and she looked around anxiously for him.
I haven't got all day, Ginevra. If you please.
Narrowing her eyes, she picked up her quill and dipped it in her inkwell, considering for a moment what she ought to write back to him.
Wouldn't it be far simpler to test this with a friend?
Her writing was far less neat than his, but she tried not to let that bother her. It wasn't long before his tidy script appeared below hers.
And miss an opportunity such as this?
Her eyes narrowed again, her mind drifting back two years. She'd never discovered how Riddle had charmed the diary to work the way it had, but she'd always assumed it had something to do with the way he'd trapped a bit of himself into it. How else could he have communicated with her through it? And now she wondered if Zabini had done something similar. Was he dabbling in the dark arts? Is that how he'd been able to charm the parchment for them to talk to each other through it?
Where did you find this charm?
She didn't really anticipate him answering her honestly, if at all, but she'd had to ask.
I didn't find it. I created it.
I don't believe you.
I'd show you my research and the arithmancy involved, but you probably wouldn't understand it. You're not taking arithmancy, are you?
No, I'm not. But I'm not stupid.
I know you're not. You really should be taking arithmancy. It's extraordinarily useful when paired with charms. I bet if you asked Professors McGonagall and Vector, they would let you join the class. I could help you catch up.
Why do you care?
I hate to see raw talent go to waste.
What do you know of my talents?
I know you could fly circles around Potter and that you're brilliant at defense. You might even be able to give me a bit of a challenge were we to duel. I would win, naturally, but you wouldn't be easily bested.
You're awfully cocky, aren't you?
I grow on you.
Like mould?
Talk to the Professors and let me know when you've started.
Good bye, Zabini.
📜
She hadn't been able to get the thought out of her head after that, and she'd mentally cursed Blaise Zabini several times over the next few days as she thought about it. Her dream was to play Quidditch professionally, but who knew if she would ever get a spot on the house team--she would try, but barring anything extreme happening, it would be at least a couple years before she had a chance to try out, as she had no interest in playing Keeper--and Zabini was right about one thing: Arithmancy did have a valuable place amongst charms work, which she thought might be a good second choice for her if Quidditch didn't work out.
And she couldn't deny that she was painfully curious about how he'd charmed the parchment and what other things he might be able to teach her.
And so, Ginny Weasley went to Professor McGonagall first, requesting special permission to join the Arithmancy class while also dropping Divination. It didn't take much to convince the Professor that Arithmancy would be a better use of her time. Professor Vector was a harder sell, but when Ginny had assured her that she had a tutor lined up willing to help her catch up, the strict Professor had agreed to let her sit a placement test to determine if she thought the youngest Weasley would be able to not only catch up to where the other students were but excel in her class.
It certainly wasn't an easy test, but Ginny read each question carefully and did the best she could on it. Professor Vector had her stay at the desk in her classroom as she graded the test, and then finally the stern witch finally gave her approval for the late entrance.
Despite the excitement churning in her stomach at passing the impromptu test the Professor had given her, Ginny waited until she could sneak away to the library to pull out the bit of charmed parchment and write Zabini a message.
I'm in.
He didn't reply right away, and so she started pulling things out of her bag, spreading out on the desk in front of her so she could start working toward catching up. She wondered if she ought to tell Hermione she'd switched classes and see if the other witch would want to help her catch up, but she decided not to, at least not right away. Knowing Hermione, she would likely set up a strict studying schedule for her with requirements far stricter than Vector might have.
So caught up was she in her studying that she didn't notice anyone approach, so when the heavy tome was dropped on the desk directly in front of her, the sound resonating through the quiet library, Ginny nearly jumped out of her skin.
"Bloody hell, Zabini!" she cursed when she spotted his smirking face as he leaned next to her.
"Shall we get started then, Ginevra?" he suggested, taking a seat without bothering to wait for an invitation from her.
Maybe she should have gone with Hermione instead…
📜
Blaise Zabini proved to be a highly effective tutor. His was a voice that demanded attention, soft and smooth when he wanted it to, with just the right amount of inflection and intonation as he explained the foundational concepts of arithmancy. Ginny found that she simply couldn't be distracted away from what he had to say, though there were times when she had to look away lest he see the warmth in her cheeks that had seemed to spread from her belly.
Hermione had told her to consider dating other boys instead of just waiting around for Harry. Somehow she didn't think Blaise Zabini was what her friend had in mind.
Not that it mattered, as there was no way he would ever think of her that way.
"Have I lost you?" his voice pierced through her drifting thoughts, and she found her eyes darting back to meet his dark orbs.
"Oh, er, no. I've just remembered… I've got to go, but we'll pick back up in a couple days, yeah?" Since the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students would be arriving tomorrow, and then Halloween the next day, things would be rather busy.
The look he gave her felt rather penetrating, and she fought not to squirm beneath his gaze. Once he nodded, she gathered up her books and notes, tucking them away in her bag before taking her leave. It was taking far more effort than she was comfortable with to ignore the attraction she was feeling toward her Slytherin tutor, but she needed to. As much as she wanted to take Hermione's advice and date other boys, she dreaded the thought of Harry thinking he wasn't important to her.
📜
The next month passed in a blur. Between her extra studies to catch up in Arithmancy and trying to help Ron keep a level head despite his fury at Harry's apparent betrayal, she'd felt like she'd barely had enough time to sleep. But by the time the first Triwizard Tournament task arrived, she felt like she was actually nearly caught up to her classmates in Arithmancy. Harry survived and Ron finally forgave him, and it just simply felt a little easier to breathe.
What Ginny hadn't been able to sort out yet was what in the world her strange feelings for Blaise were about. Nor was she certain just when she'd started to think of him by his first name, just that she had.
When the announcement was made regarding the Yule Ball, she was at first disappointed. Naturally, it would only be allowed for fourth years and up, she thought with some frustration. But then Neville had asked her quite shyly if she might like to accompany him to the dance, and she'd readily said yes, assuming he would be the only one kind enough to ask a third year to the dance. It was only later that night when she was finally alone in the limited privacy of her bed with the drapes drawn around it that she allowed herself to feel a little bit of disappointment.
Surprisingly, it wasn't that Harry hadn't asked her, it was that Blaise hadn't.
She hadn't even had a chance to ask him if he had a date, to implant the idea in his head that she would make a decent enough date. It didn't matter, though. It wasn't like he ever would have asked her, anyway. And it was because of that mentality that when she pulled the charmed parchment out, thinking of him and considering possibly writing to him, she was surprised to see a message from him already there.
Will you be attending the Yule Ball?
Ginny pulled her lower lip between her teeth, one finger coming up to trace over his tidy script. Gods, honestly, how did he learn to write so elegantly? She was nearly jealous of it, though not enough to try to improve her own handwriting to his level.
I will, yeah. Neville's asked me.
Interesting. I'll look forward to seeing you there, Ginevra. Perhaps you'll even save me a dance.
It didn't seem like a question, and she was relieved no one was around to see the heavy blush staining her cheeks. He wanted to dance with her? How bizarre.
Perhaps I will. Good night, Blaise.
She tucked the parchment away and tucked herself in under her covers, saying "Nox" to turn out the light. And when she dreamed that night, it was of her spinning around a dancefloor in the arms of a dark suitor.
📜
"That does not look like Arithmancy," Blaise pointed out in an almost chiding tone with a raised brow as he slid into the seat next to Ginny's preferred desk in the library.
She resisted, just barely, rolling her eyes at him. "How astute of you. No, I'm working on potions." Sighing, she tossed her quill on the tabletop and then rubbed a hand over her forehead. Why in the bleeding hell did Snape have to make things as absolutely complicated as he could. It was frustrating, and she couldn't help thinking she might actually enjoy the subject if she had a better teacher for it. "But I am more than happy to switch tracks, though I'm not sure I actually need you to help me catch up anymore. I'm fairly well caught up now," she pointed out, realizing a moment later how rude and ungrateful she sounded.
"Tutoring you is good review for me," was all Blaise said on the topic, though there was a certain look in his eye that made her wonder if there was more going on beneath the surface. Still, she certainly wasn't going to complain that he was sticking around, strange as it still struck her at times. "And besides, if you stick with me you'll get ahead of your classmates," he pointed out smugly.
"You say that as if you're talking to Hermione," she retorted. She simply didn't have the same drive her friend did to be at the top of her class. It was enough for her to do well, but it did amuse her that he seemed to think she might care about that.
Blaise studied her for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable. "Humor me," he finally suggested.
"All right, fine, let's get back to it then," she agreed with a dramatic sigh, her lips twitching as she held back a grin.
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Do you have a date to the Yule Ball?
She'd finally drummed up the courage to ask him, to probe into whether or not he was dating anyone. Not that it mattered, as the idea of them ever dating each other was ridiculous. But there was still that part of her, that small part, that was drawn to the darkness he represented as a Slytherin. And he hadn't even shown any signs of that sort of darkness, anyway. A bit of dark humor, perhaps, and a willingness to bend the rules to accomplish what he set out to, but in all their tutoring sessions and conversations on the parchment, she'd never got the impression he was cold or cruel.
I do, of a sorts. Why do you ask?
Curiosity. So who are you going with then?
Astoria Greengrass
Ginny knew Astoria, of course, being in the same year as the Ravenclaw. She was quiet and seemed far more pleasant than her sister, Daphne, and she was pretty--far prettier than Ginny thought herself to be, and also far curvier. It seemed impossible that Blaise might notice her, flat-chested and narrow-hipped, when he would have Astoria Greengrass on his arm.
Oh, I suppose you won't need me to save you that dance after all then?
I don't believe I said that.
Ginny flushed, not sure what that meant but relieved that he couldn't see her. As terrifying as this parchment was when she'd first found it amongst her things, she'd grown to treasure the thing. It was far easier to be brave through this parchment than it was talking to him in person.
Astoria won't mind if you dance with another girl?
Astoria is a good friend of mine who wasn't going to be able to come unless asked by an older student, same as you. But she's not my girlfriend. I assure you, we will both be dancing with other people as well as one another.
Oh, I see. Could you imagine the look on my brother's face if he saw us dancing? It would be worth it for that alone.
As long as he doesn't draw his wand on me. I would hate to have to hex him in the middle of the ball.
Oh no, he's far more likely to start a screaming match.
Then I might have to simply render him silent. I'll be doing the whole castle a favor.
I'm not sure I can argue that. Anyway, I should get to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow?
Of course. Good night, Ginevra.
Good night, Blaise.
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When Christmas finally arrived, Ginny spent the morning holed away in Gryffindor tower with her brothers and their closest friends. It was a bit strange to have not gone home for the holiday, but this was an exciting reason to stay at the castle, and she was thrilled to be going. When the time had come to get ready, she'd broke off with Hermione, knowing her friend had a rather special date to the ball and wanting to help make sure everyone's jaws dropped when they saw her.
Hermione urged her ahead, wanting to wait until most everyone had cleared out before she headed down to meet up with Viktor, and so she slipped out to meet Neville in the common room, her green dress robes feeling far fancier than anything she was used to wearing despite it being second-hand. She flushed when Neville stammered out a greeting and compliment before escorting her down.
The Great Hall was gorgeous, and she had a wonderful time dancing with Neville and a few of her other housemates. Still, she found her eyes wandering the hall, seeking out the Slytherin who'd plagued her thoughts for weeks now. She almost didn't recognize him when she first saw him. He always looked well-groomed, but he looked positively dashing in his dress robes. Even so, it was late in the evening by the time she found her way to him. She hoped that he attributed the flush in her cheeks to her dancing throughout the evening, though she couldn't deny to herself that it had something to do with his proximity.
"Ginevra," he greeted her warmly, holding out his hand and offering her a slight bow.
"Blaise," she returned, slipping her hand into his and letting him pull her out onto the dance floor.
He twirled her around and pulled her in close, his feet moving with far more talent than any of the other boys she'd danced with that night. It was easy to follow his lead and easier still to forget everything else but the lightness he made her feel. The song shifted to something slower, and he slid his arm around her back, holding her close to him, his dark eyes looking down into hers in a way that made it impossible for her to look away.
She'd never been kissed before, and in that moment, she desperately wanted to know what it would be like to be kissed by him.
It seemed as if he read her mind because a moment later, he was closing the distance between them, his lips brushing lightly against hers once, twice. It was almost teasing, testing, and she returned the gentle brush of lips, her heart racing. She didn't want the moment to end, wanting to savor it instead, and she smiled softly, almost shyly, when he stood up fully again.
"I should get back to my… to Neville," she whispered loud enough for only him to hear over the Weird Sisters.
"Of course," he replied just as quietly, stepping back with a slight nod of acknowledgement to her.
It was nearly midnight by the time she returned to her dorm, and she flopped on her bed still wearing her dress robes. Casting a silencing charm around her bed, she finally let herself release the absurdly girly sound of joy for how the night had gone before pulling out the charmed parchment. She paused, surprised when she saw a new message already waiting for her.
You looked absolutely radiant tonight, Ginvera. I only wish I'd had the opportunity to escort you myself.
Biting her lower lip, she thought for a long moment of how to respond to that message, or if there was anything she could say in response without sounding ridiculous.
Perhaps next time, then.
Unable to help herself, Ginny fell asleep that night with a smile on her lips and the thought that perhaps Hermione had been onto something when she'd suggested Ginny date other boys.