I'm just your…well, not so average Slytherin.
My name is Blaise Gabriella Zabini. Tell anyone my middle name, and I will make no hesitation in pulling whichever sexual organs you happen to have from wherever they are in your body out through your mouth. Be it nuts or ovaries, I will pull them out through your mouth, then feed them back to you.
But, its ok. This is just between us.
Yeah, thought so.
Further information will have to wait. I slept late, and I have some preparation to do. September 1st is a hectic day in this household, as everyone tries to get ready for their various happenings. Auntie has to get prepared for the trip to Hogwarts, as do I. Can't be late to my last year, now can I?
Something no one can ever know, is that Minerva McGonagall is actually my Aunt. She is my mother's sister, and although no one has ever put it together, I want it staying a secret. It wouldn't go over too well for the Slytherin Queen to have Gryffindor relations.
That would be horrible.
But enough of others, back to me.
You see, the Slytherin Queen…I, Blaise, must wake up 4 hours before I am due for the Hogwarts Express to even be prepared as I am to head off into my adoring public. It takes a lot to get one's hair perfectly layered and teased. It takes a lot to get these damned half-blonde, half-mahogany strands of hair into a style that is manageable for the whole day.
And it also takes a lot to rid myself of these damned freckles.
Yes, freckles. Make a comment, and I swear I will kick your ass from here to Shanghai. And that is a promise.
A curse from my mother's side, I must blot out their existence like pesky insects, to ensure the furthering of my career as the poster-girl for Witches' Weekly. No one wants an imperfect model to look up to.
A normal person would feel bad about deceiving all those people. But I am a Slytherin.
And I don't give a fuck.
Instead, I blot them out of existence, and then head on my way. I arrive on the train before everyone, staring at the wonders that someone with a stick of wood could do. The amazing ways that the connection with the earth through magic can allow us to ride this train so far, to read the castle where we are taught our own connection, instructed in our own bond to the earth. Our own bond to the planet beneath us. Around us. That we are as much a part of it as it is a part of us.
Damn I sound like a fucking sappy Hufflepuff.
Oh god I just gave myself a vomiting session there. Hufflepuffs…the people that have no point in existing in life. Yeah, sure, you may be looking at me as some kind of evil bitch for saying a whole group of people shouldn't live, but it's true. Ravenclaws, they can think stuff up, and make plans in war. We Slytherins, spies and all around sneaky, conniving bastards (and bitches in my case) are good at…everything. And Gryffindors, what of them you ask? Front Line. They can run their courageous asses out front, get blasted to all shit, and we can take it from there.
And their little god, Potter, can fucking lead them.
The front runner to the front line. How fun a thought.
Now, I have nothing wrong with the little bastard of a savior. None at all. I just hope he takes Voldemort out, and goes too. I hate that fuck of a little "Dark Lord." I could do better with a flu, personally. And I mean, come on, "Lord Voldemort." It sounds like a fucking Grocery Store. I mean, I wonder at times if I should ask him for paper or plastic.
You are looking at me weird, aren't you? The Slytherin hating the "Dark Lord." Sounds…off, huh?
And I mean, if you knew half the shit I knew about the all-powerful Voldie-Mart, you would have no respect for him either. Like…take the fact that he wants to have an heir. An heir to defeat Potter should he not be able to. First of all, that is a huge shame, a grown-ass man afraid of a fucking 17 year old.
Then the fact that he wants to breed with Bellatrix. Now, the woman is not ugly, quite pretty in a morbidly-gothic evil way. But, when you take these two pale, skinny fucks, and have them…well…fuck, you kinda end up with some very frightening results. Like, will the baby come out allergic to the sun or something? Something like that muggle entertainer, Michael Jackson perhaps. He performed in London not too long ago to have millions of people there to see him…Why, I asked. But I digress.
Now, if all of this is not odd enough, here comes the breaker. The…The fucking funniest thing I have ever heard in my life.
You see, for all the magical power that Voldemort supposedly has, for all the magic that he uses to control other people, the man(if you can call him that) can't control himself. Or more…parts of himself. To put it simply,
He couldn't maintain an erection if it meant killing Potter by doing so.
Yes, yes, laugh. Laugh your little asses off. I sure in the hell did. Ok, no I didn'd because its still there, and still bigger than I want considering I want to be a damn model, but once more, blame my genes.
Anyways, even more importantly, is how I know this.
The gullible fuck. He is a Death Eater. Yes, and that is why we are staying with Aunt Minnie. Yeah, Aunt Minnie. And the most sickening thought is, that I am supposed to be promised to…
Speak of the devil. Or…the ferret.
"What you stupid…" Calm Blaisy-Girl. "How can I help you, almighty Ferret King?"
This pissed him off, I guess. He growled and looked at me as if I had just committed insubordination. "You will respect me Zabini! I will not have you talking to me this way when we are wed." And everyone behind him nodded in agreement like he was some kind of preacher, and they agreed.
That's another thing. Everyone in Slytherin seems to love Draco Malfoy.
Everyone but me.
Just like Death Eaters are toe-lickers to Voldemort, Slytherins seem to be Junior Tea-Baggers in training for Lord Ferret.
And next to him, scowled Pansy Parkinson. I had been friends with that little fuck at some point, but ever since the arranged marriage to her little Rodent, she had been very…weird to me.
Not like I give a damn. I mean, everyone in Slytherin has had Pansy.
Are you waiting for me to say "accept me?"
Well, sorry, you won't be hearing it. I've had the little whore too. More than once, and often under the influence of something.
Hey! Most girls say the little slumber party story, where the spin the bottle to practice kissing boys progresses to lesbian experiences is all a lie.
Those Hos are lying to you.
It happens, at least it has to every female I speak to, and often with either Pansy, or some other slut. And now to play with all the guys out there's little fan-boy fantasies.
Imagine, if you will, the Slytherin girls, end of 6th year. Started with a pillow-fight that got sweaty. Ended with a mass kissing orgy on the floor of the Dorm Room before Snape walked in.
Ugh…Snape with an erection…
Obliviate me. Please. Before I kill myself.
But as I revel on my past experimentation, which I will never do again, the little Ferret before me has grown impatient. And he has began to speak again.
"Look Gaby, you need to learn…"
"No you stupid fuck, you need to learn. My name is Blaise…not Gaby, not Blaisey, not Baby, not Piece of Ass. Get it right. And know, Captain Ferret-Boy, I will not marry you. I will not look at you. I will not touch you unless it is to thoroughly lodge my foot cleanly up your sorry ass. Got it?"
Gotta love being taller than a Malfoy.
Funny as it is, the imposing Malfoy frame the Lucius clearly finds perfect, does not gain any real height until they are out of Hogwarts. Which placed Draco Malfoy at a solid 5' 3". And me being 2 inches above that, 3 on a good day, is always a plus. Especially when I get into my "Bitch" mode…well, more bitchy than I am normally.
Comment and I will kick your ass.
Speaking of which, it also helps to be able to kick his ass. Trust me, it's a fact. Done it many a times. Like when he tried to sneak into my bed late at night in 5th year. A knee to the groin put all thoughts from his head, and sent him to the floor, where I promptly kicked him repeatedly until he was outside the door, slammed it…on his hand.
Yes, I did get great satisfaction out of it...
Yes, sick sick satisfaction from hearing him cry outside. Puberty ignored him it seems, even now he sounds like a 10 year old girl with pigtails. Ha! Malfoy with piggy-tails…
The little shit looked about ready to pee his pants. Wait…I smell ammonia…did he?
Oh dear me, I think he did.
"Malfoy, out of my damned compartment before I do something to you that you deserve."
His snide look spread. "And what is that, Blaisey?"
"Rid the world of any chance of another Malfoy."
He didn't think I would. I could see it on his face. So, I did what any girl dared to do something would do. I did. And cursing my actions, I reached down, and grabbed him by his puny, baby balls that I am sure have yet to drop due to his high, squeaky voice, and made it higher. And I squeezed harder and harder until his eyes rolled back.
And then I kissed the slime on his cheek as I let go. It was patronizing and mean, and then I sent him and his groupies from my compartment.
And as I looked at my hand, which felt moist, and tentatively leaned in to smell it, I realized what…
"Aww shit, you disgusting animal. You pissed on yourself!"
And with that, off to wash my hands and try and scrape the skin off.
The castle, I must admit is beautiful. An amazing place as the castle stands in the waning light of the evening sun and the train puts us in perfect position to see the sun reflecting through the stained glass in the windows of Gryffindor.
Too bad the windows stop one of them from falling out. That would be straight comedy. Some dumbass Gryffindor falling head first from the tower. Snickering and giggling were two things I pride myself in not partaking in, but at the thought of one of them plummeting like some kind of red and gold anvil brought it out of me.
I feel them on my back, in the small of it as someone comes up next to me. I know the hands, and turn to look at who had deemed it important to touch me. Her dark brown hair was everywhere, as she stared me in the eyes.
"Don't 'Blaisey' me Pansy. Don't you even think about it. Because you make me sick." I tried to make it come out venomously, something I am generally great at. But when someone is tracing circles along the small of your back, it gets difficult to be angry at them.
But I got away. Sad as it was, the girl truly did make me sick. I hated her and I hated the fact that, because we used to be close, she knew things about me that no one else knew.
"Damn you." I mutter even after she has gone, and make my way to the Slytherin dungeons. Yes, the dungeons. I am against the feast and sitting on my ass stuffing my face, and make it a point to, instead be constructive. In other words, get to my dorm, throw all those bitches stuff out in the hallway, lock the door and get the room to myself, if for nothing more than a night.
But as I am walking, I hear voices. Voices coming from the dungeons, the Potions classroom. Snape is often partaking in the delights of "stimulating" conversation with Dumbledore while eating, not knowing he has spinach in his teeth. But I am sure it is his voice.
Making my way toward the dungeons where I hear his voice, I begin to wonder. I hear another voice, and I don't understand why someone else would be down at this time. And why the voice sounded feminine. But upon making my way there, I would have turned back if I knew what kind of impact it would have on my life from that point on.
They had left the door open. Although not a lot, it was cracked open, and they had gotten careless. Thinking everyone was at the feast and they were safe had let them get fairly cocky. Yes, so I stood there, looking through the rather large crack in the door. And literally wanted to gouge my eyes out at the idea.
Snape sat in his chair in front of his desk, while a redhead I know is "Ginny" Weasley sat on the desk in front of him. I heard bits of the conversation, but the general idea was, she needed better potions grades from her OWLs to qualify for NEWTs Potions, but she didn't get them. And she wanted to go into Auror Training like her dear boyfriend Potter after she finished school, and if she didn't have a NEWT in Potions, that wouldn't be happening.
So she had come there to ask Snape what she could do to get into the class. She had brought up some ideas about extra work, longer essays, things of the sort. Normally this would have been borderline acceptable to me. I mean, she was just looking for a better grade. But then…
Let's put it this way. My lunch didn't taste nearly good on its way back out as it did on its way in. Not by a bit.
Snape reached out and put his hand on the Weaslette's thigh. She looked at him for a moment, before he seemed to be telling her something. She looking scared and appalled for a moment, but then seemed to agree, albeit quite warily. I didn't know what was going on, but I got a good idea. A good enough idea when she went from sitting on the table to down on her knees in front of the Potions' professor, my bloody Head of House, and started unbuttoning his pants.
Oh someone kill me. Now! Please, this is just…so…wrong.
I shake myself from my disgusted mental exile and turn from the door. I don't really fancy watching Snape get himself…ugh. The idea makes my stomach turn in itself. But as I stand there, petrified, I hear something that bothers me a lot.
Snape starts to groan, before he moans something out. I swear I heard wrong, but then it comes again. "Oh…Lily."
Lily…oh dear goddess no, please, someone lie to me that I did not, in fact, just hear Snape…But my thought process ended upon thinking of the late Lily Potter. As another issue arose.
That of another Potter, a one Harry James if my sources tell me correctly, coming down the corridor. "Oh Shit…" I tried to keep my cursing down, but it didn't work. He heard me. Either that, or he heard Snape's pleased moans. I backed from the door, passing by the open crack I had turned from to get from the light cast from the room. I knew he saw me then, but I didn't care.
I wanted to see what was going to happen. Happen as he came toward me only to pass by the classroom. Pass by as Snape's hand held the red hair to his lap and his head flew back and he moaned loudly. And as luck would have it, he groaned out "Lily" once more.
The Weaslette sat up coughing some. Snape looked at her for a moment of thought through his euphoria, and mutter, "You know, you look a lot like her. Lily I mean."
She nodded. "Yeah, they tell me that a lot." She looked to be about to say something else when the door slammed open and Potter stood there in the doorway. And as I watched him stand there, I knew someone had lied when they called Potter the Golden Boy. They had lied when they said he was not only perfect, but a good little boy. Especially when he looked about ready to Unforgivable both of them.
And even worse would be the fact that…hold on, I have to go vomit as I think of this. Even worse is the fact that Ginny stood there, about to deny what we both had just witnessed, with…ugh…with Snape's…how had the muggle said it…"Cream Filling" running down the side of her mouth.
Oh god, this is really disgusting. Just…wrong. Just…horrible. And Potter growled and his anger was so powerful, all Snape's beloved potions bottles shattered, and their ingredients fell to the ground.
"Potter, 10 points from…" Snape started before he caught the boy's eyes.
"Snivellus, how dare you defile the memory of my mother." Was all he said, before more glass shattered, and several shattered above Snape and fell onto his head, different liquids rushing over his head. Then he turned to Weaslette. "Weasley, 50 points from Gryffindor for fucking a teacher and causing a public disturbance."
I watched him, and my admiration for the person who was Harry Potter grew by the second. Not for some lovey-dovey reason, but for the first time ever, I have seen someone who looks like they won't grovel and fall to the floor of a pale, red-eyed bastard who looks like a Vampire who hadn't slept in a long time.
It also could have been because of his aim.
Because it would go down in history as the first time Snape would be unable to undo a potion. For, you see, after Potter stalked from the dungeons, glass shattering all around him and the dumbass Weasley girl running after him, still not wiping her goddamned mouth, Snape had started trying to clear potions ingredients. Unaware of the ones that had, somehow fallen on his head.
The next morning Snape's scream awoke all of the Slytherin dungeons. Yes, he screamed like a fucking girl.
And he came to breakfast 10 minutes late sporting a Bowler. And when told to remove it by Albus, saying it wasn't permitted in the dress-code, he removed it.
To reveal red hair with wisps of blonde throughout.
Bet that's the last time he has the 4th years practice on Hair-Color Altering potions and stores them on the top shelf, above his desk.
It was so funny, I will admit the embarrassment that befell me upon seeing it. I, Blaise Zabini, perfection embodied, saw him, and proceeded to cover the table with the milk I had been trying to drink right before I saw him.
Ok, this is a fine reaction you say. Not when it comes out of your nose.
Yes, nasty, go ahead and be sick. But if that freaks you out and little Ginny giving the almighty Grease-King sucky-sucky didn't, then you are a warped individual.
It may have helped that the grease was washed from his hair, and therefore it had a great deal of volume, an amount most girls would kill for. So much so that Snape had a little mini-afro atop his head. And with the coloring, he looked like a fucking morbid clown. It was so bloody funny.
But as I looked, Potter wasn't laughing. No, he wasn't laughing with the rest of his table,
Because he wasn't there.
I groaned before becoming sick with myself. My body had found a way to get up from the table and begin heading from the Great Hall without my consent. But I am forever grateful I hadn't needed to make the trek up to the Gryffindor Tower, yes I know where it is, because he was sitting right outside the doors to the Hall.
"What is wrong with you Potter, you look like you just caught your girlfriend cheating…oh, I'm sorry, that's right…" I'm a bitch, I admit it. I couldn't resist though. But the chiding got no response from him. He sat, chewing on his muffin. Goddamned muffins. Hate those things.
"Potter, are you listening to me?" No answer from the little black-haired shit in front of me. Waving my hand in front of his face did nothing, as he sat, still eating the muffin. I grabbed the damned thing and launched it across the room. I was impressed by my aim, as I managed to smack a little first-year Hufflepuff upside the head with it somehow, but I turned back to Potter, who was finally looking up at me.
"What do you want Zabini. Come here to gloat about what you saw last night? If that's it, save it. I don't need it." He was a pitiful creature. Yes indeedy. But it was, in fact, sweet for him to look…
Hold on, back up.
What the fuck! Did I just call something pertaining a Gryffindor, nonetheless the god of all bloody Gryffindors "sweet"? Dear sweet goddess, I am out of my mind! Check me into St. Mungo's, sign me up for a padded room, I am a size 2 in straightjackets, and I can fit a 1 if need arise!
But he was standing. And it was then that I noticed how much taller he was. Taller than he had been before. At some point, even I had been taller than him, but with his easily approaching 6' 3" frame, I laughed at the thought of Draco attempting to torment him. That had ended the last year when the little growth spurt of dear Potter had begun. Its hard to intimidate someone who was at 5' 10" while you were pushing a good 5' nothing. And I figure, after the last time Potter transfigured him into a ferret and walked him around the school on a leash, Draco had ended his "torment" of the boy.
I looked up at him, and his solemn demeanor put me in a foul mood. I hate people being depressed around me, unless I caused it. And I hate that anyone had to walk in on the scene he had the night before. Hell, I didn't want to walk in on it. Feel bad for me. I can't get rid of that thought now. It keeps popping up in my head. Shit, the last bastard who cheated on me was magically castrated, and then obliviated. Woke up the next morning wondering where his balls were…
And it had to just be horrid to have one's girlfriend compared to their mother and used for such. It was backwards progress, as Snape and Potter had buried the hatchet, per say, for some reason. And they had been in the least, civil to one another.
"Hey, buck up. Here, I'll give you permission of turn Malfoy into a ferret and walk him again."
"I don't need your permission. I did it last time, I will do it again if I feel like it." I would have been taken aback, but I saw the slight smirk on his face
"But you see, mister almighty Head Boy," And I did a bit of fancy wand work on the hair tie in my pocket, "You don't have the leash." And I pulled out the leash I had just transfigured, complete with a collar that had "Draco" on it, just the size for a ferret.
He smiled at me, and finally started laughing. "Good job Zabini, good bloody job." And he laughed some.
"Blaise. That's my first name." I knew he didn't know that. Potter wasn't the kind of person to call anyone by their surname outside of Malfoy and his cronies.
He nodded. "Isn't that a rather…masculine name you have there…" He muttered, smiling cheekily.
"Shut it Potter. Before I de-masculine-ize you."
He mouthed "what the hell" And was about to oh-so-kindly inform me of my crappy English when I simply rolled my eyes.
Well, this is funny, the Slytherin Queen and the Gryffindor King. Wonder how the kids will come out.
Did I just say that…?
Please tell me I didn't.
I really do need help.
A lot of it.
Damn him, damn that Weasley-whore, damn Snape, and damn my damn self. Dammit. "Kids"? What the hell am I thinking. Potter…Me…
A/N: Blaise is a girl here, don't bother with the "Blaise is a boy in canon" stuff...cause um...i don't care.
This won't follow the FFO storyline, just some random similarities between the two just in character interaction. And um...that's it. R&R if you'd please, thankies.