Who: Blaise and Seamus Where: Outside Professor Williamson's office When: Monday afternoon-ish? What: They sign the list for the Dueling Team. Rating: G Status: Complete
The letters formed under his quill, the letters of his name spelled out in stark black and white. Satisfied, Blaise stood back and stared at the parchment for a moment, wondering if he truly was mad for signing his name to be considered for the Dueling Team. A pause, and then farther down, he wrote another name (much different handwriting) and charmed it to become visible after he'd been absent from the corridor for a goodly amount of minutes. In half an hour, the name of Anita Bath would become visible. Childish, yes, but only in the name of good fun.
On his way to sign up for the Dueling Team, Seamus spotted the unquestionably suspicious Blaise Zabini, quill poised over the signup sheet. Convinced he was no up to no good - being a Slytherin and all - he crept up behind him and peered over his shoulder... only to find nothing out of the ordinary. It was just as well, really - Seamus would have made a fool of himself by dumbly saying the name aloud a thousand times, bewildered by the laughter that would undoubtedly follow upon asking if anyone 'knew Anita Bath?'
"Zabini," He said, somewhat disappointed that he'd only caught him signing up for the dueling club.
Hand falling to his side, Blaise nodded before he realised who it was speaking. However, too late now. "Finnigan," he responded, stepping back and allowing the other boy room, assuming that Seamus hadn't come to the Williamson's office simply to have tea.
Brash as always, Seamus stepped immediately forward and set to signing his name on the list... only to fudge it up as a result of the distraction Zabini posed. Cursing below his breath at embarrassing himself in front of Blaise, he quickly crossed it out and re-etched his name - properly, this time. Name signed, he was forced to turn around and face the Slytherin with whom he had a rather odd acquaintenceship. One one hand, he'd threatened him for bitching out Davis, but on the other he'd said he wouldn't have assaulted Wood. It left Seamus a bit confused as to what being a Slytherin meant, having lumped them all into the same dismissed category. It was only after he'd pondered this that he realized he was staring at Blaise without explanation. "Just so you know, I've a truce with Davis, so you oughn't pummel me."
Blaise hadn't quite finished writing the prank name on the list, and so waited for Seamus to finish, and it was taking for-bloody-ever. Didn't they teach Gryffindors to write? No, that was possibly Hufflepuffs. Regardless, he realised that Seamus was staring at him, and opened his mouth to enquire as to why, exactly. Blaise knew he was handsome, but hadn't thought that any male had thought him that sort. Seamus spoke before he could, though, and the words in his mouth turned to laughter. "You've a truce? What's the truce, you give her your Hogsmeade money and she doesn't kick your arse?"
Seamus's fade reddened with anger at the rude response he'd garnered in his attempt to be civil. Oh, Zabini was a Slytherin, all right, and as bad as the rest of them. Squaring his shoulders and forcibly keeping his clenched fists at his side, he narrowed his eyes upon the dark boy. "Matter of fact, she asked for it, she didn't want me to kick her arse."
Holding his hands up, Blaise laughed again. "Right. I believe you. Really." And then, more laughter.
Outraged that he wasn't being taken seriously, Seamus glared at him, trying to remember exactly what Tracey had said. "Said she didn't want me to distract her from her studies and things he 'enjoyed' doing. And that I gave her a headache." He paused, remembering a tidbit of information that seemed particularly apt for this conversation. "She also said I looked too better in my Quidditch uniform that I had a right to," He said smugly.
"You gi -- She really said that? About you in the Quidditch uniform?" Blaise paused, surprised that Tracey would actually admit such a thing. "She's never said that to me."
It occurred to Seamus that Davis would kick his ass if she heard that he'd mentioned it to anybody, but pride won out over logic. He'd surprised Blaise and wasn't about to relinquish that advantage. "It was in the middle of a slew of insults, but yeah, she said I looked good," He confirmed.
"So, wait, she was insulting you at the same time she was telling you that you look fit?" Blaise glanced at Seamus skeptically, then moved back in front of the parchment and finished the prank name. "She's an... er. An interesting girl." Somehow, he didn't think that it would be quite fitting to refer to Tracey as an odd bird to Seamus.
"Yeah." The strangeness of it didn't really occur to him until Blaise pointed it out, nor did he fully comprehend that Tracey thought he was cute. "Very, uh, interesting." He neglected to mention that he'd returned the compliment. As he squinted at the blank parchment, he was confused. Blaise was obviously writing, but he couldn't see the words. "What the feck are you doing, Zabini?" He asked, stumped.
Tucking his quill into a pocket, Blaise looked Seamus up and down, assessing whether he should be brought into the joke. Then: "Do you know Anita Bath?" Not a bit of the laughter that wanted to spill from his mouth was evident.
Seamus blinked, Blaise's seriousness only contributing to his confusion. "Anita Bath?" He repeated blindly, running the name over his tongue repeatedly in the hope of recognition. "What house's Anita Bath in?"
The corner of Blaise's mouth quirked slightly. "Do you have an Anita Bath in your House?" His voice trembled a bit with suppressed laughter. He hoped fervently that Seamus wouldn't hex him.
The dumb silence finally came to an end when Seamus made the connection between the name and the quirk of Blaise's mouth. Realization dawned over his features, followed by shock and embarrassment, and finally ending in laughter. It was strange, to be laughing over something that a Slytherin intended to be funny, but he had to give Zabini credit. "You're going to get in trouble," He stated unnecessarily, grinning widely.
Blaise chuckled with Seamus, and shrugged. "I won't if no one knows," he stated, giving Seamus a considering look. "You won't say anything?" With an effort, he made his statement a question.
The Gryffindor part of him silently acknowledged that it was tempting to get a Slytherin in trouble, but he found with a start that he couldn't really muster any venom toward Zabini. Tucking his hands in his trousers pockets, he shrugged. "Nah. It's just a joke, not really targeted toward Gryffindors, so I don't see why it can't stand."
Blaise arched an eyebrow. "It's not geared toward anyone." He paused. "Save Williamson." He nodded at Seamus's name, amused greatly that he'd forgotten how to spell. "Er, they don't teach spelling elsewhere... ?" A grin quickly followed the question, genuine and not in the least making a joke of Seamus.
A flush crept up Seamus's cheeks, embarrassed that he'd made a foolish mistake in front of the intelligent boy. "I can spell - you were looking over my shoulder. Rattled me a bit," He mumbled sheepishly, hands still tucked firmly in his pockets as he shuffled a bit. "After those things you said when I called out Davis, couldn't really trust you to stand behind me."
Blaise frowned a bit, hand reaching up to scratch his neck. "I was simply trying to impress upon you the folly of your words. She would be a formidable opponent, I think," he answered. "That does not, mean, however, that I would not defend her. I simply would allow her the chance to do so herself."
"She might be," He admitted, remembering his meeting with Tracey and how sinister she had seemed. "Can't you see where I was coming from, though? She was making fun of Wood - he's my friend, like she's yours. A Gryffindor, yeah, but how'd she feel if her livelihood got ruined like that?"
Blaise's first instinct was to sneer and make a snide comment. It was overrun, however, by the thought that surely Seamus would react the same way if a member of his House and a friend were spoken to in such a way. He said as such, turning away from Williamson's office and starting to make his way down the corridor, thinking that surely, the other boy would walk with him.
Seamus paused, glancing around warily and contemplating whether he wanted to see walking down a corridor with a Slytherin. Had it been anyone other than Blaise, the answer would have invariably been 'no,' but he found he didn't despise the boy as much as he did his other housemates. Tucking his quill into his pocket, he hurried to catch up with the boy, displaying none of the grace and elegance of Blaise's gait. "So what does this mean?" He asked, rubbing his own neck somewhat awkwardly. "Are you going to sneak up behind me when I'm not looking?"
"Oh, yeah, Finnigan, watch your back." He rolled his eyes slightly and jammed his hands into his trouser pockets, direct contrast to the distinct air of good-breeding that he gave off. "You say that you and Tracey have a truce. I will believe you. I don't really have an issue with you, anyway." Besides blood, and he wasn't entirely sure that was the case, anyway. Finnigan wasn't as annoying as many of his other Housemates, and neither was he needlessly hostile, like Brown.
He shot a Blaise an annoyed look when he mocked him with the sarcastic remark and roll of his eyes, but made no move to stop walking with him. "Well, you should," Seamus replied stubbornly when the boy mentioned the truce, ignoring the curious glance of a passing Gryffindor. He didn't much care for Slytherins, but he cared even less for being judged for whose company he kept. The assertion that Blaise didn't have a problem with him was enough to make him pause in mid-step, a confused expression on her features. "You don't?"
Blaise shrugged, wondering what rumours would spread about the two of them when the younger Gryffindor returned to her Common Room. It would certainly make dealing with the girls much more interesting. "No, not really," he admitted. "You've not hexed me, nor have you insulted me. If your intention is to make me mention your blood... Well, I suppose that has succeeded." He laughed, briefly.
Seamus wrinkled his nose in distaste. Why did he have to bring up such a stupid measure of worth? "That'd be dumb of you - your own bloody house isn't completely pure. 'Sides, me mam says there won't be any pure families left in a decade. Everybody'll be half at least."
Blaise glanced sidelong at Seamus. Obviously, it wasn't well-known that the Zabinis weren't Pureblood. All the same, he couldn't confirm or deny the veracity of Seamus's mother's statment. "Not quite everybody," he said lightly. If he marries "upward," his own children would be considered Pureblood.
"Okay, so maybe not everybody," Seamus replied, sparing Blaise a brief glance of his own. He simply assumed that the Zabinis were pureblood. "My point is, anybody's who real purist about it is going to be in a pretty small club. S'just not feasible to be that restrictive when it's dying out."
Blaise sighed, the thoughts that he'd had for days finally coming together. "There are some thoughts that one in my position shouldn't speak aloud," he said slowly. And stopped, at a tapestry that would become a shortcut to the Slytherin Common Room. Pushing back the heavy fabric, he gave Seamus a faint grin and a salute.
"See you later, Anita," He remarked with a wink. And then, for a moment, Seamus was uncharacteristically thoughtful, looking upon Blaise in a slightly different light. Between the mysterious comment and his differing position on Oliver's injury, he was seemingly less and less like the typical Slytherin - and to be honest, he wasn't sure what that meant for the two of them.