Noëlle Zabini; murder twat (widowed) wrote in disorderic, @ 2018-01-07 12:27:00 |
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24th December Noëlle swept into the dining room, impractical and seasonally inappropriate silk robe fanning behind her as house elves scurried to pull out her chair. (The problem with receiving so many inheritances was that you ended up with a number of unnecessary house elves). But there was already someone at her dining table. "Oh, you're home." "Yes," Blaise replied, looking up from his porridge. "Since yesterday." "Well," Noëlle paused, pouring milk over her granola, "You should have found me to say hello," she finished, pushing all blame that she hadn't noticed his arrival back on him. "Sorry, mother," he ducked his head in apology. "How is school?" She asked, more to make conversation than because she actually cared. "Fine." "No detentions?" "When have I ever had a detention?" "Wasn't there that time you insulted a professor's outfit?" Blaise's eyebrows raised the slightest amount, surprised his mother remembered despite having the details incorrect. "I commented on her unfortunate face, actually," he corrected. "I only lost points because a Hufflepuff overheard." He returned to his breakfast, the room lapsing back into silence, until he added: "I know better than to insult the Carrows' style in their earshot, even if they need some serious help." "Of course," Noëlle agreed. "You would never do something so stupid." Blaise brushed imaginary crumbs off the table (porridge didn't even leave crumbs), frowning. "Stupid like dating a Lestrange?" He asked after a long pause, barely daring to meet his mother's eye across their long table. Noëlle was unfazed. "Rabastan is a dear old friend. Don’t frown." "Why?" “You’ll get wrinkles.” “I meant why Rabastan Lestrange?” Blaise pushed, knowing perfectly well his mother had known that was what he’d meant. "Well, Rodolphus suffers from the unfortunate affliction of already having a wife." Blaise rolled his eyes at Noëlle purposeful facetiousness. He wasn't amused. "I thought we were staying neutral." "Darling, there's no such thing as neutral anymore. 'Neutral' people are casualties almost as often as those who oppose the changes. We don't oppose the changes, there's no gain in denying that." "That may be so," Blaise was unconvinced but unwilling to argue with his mother, "But I would prefer not to join my friends in the Death Eater Father Club." "Don't worry, Darling," Noëlle assured Blaise, lifting her teacup to her mouth, "I know what I’m doing. Anyway, I doubt he'd consider you a son." 25 December The house elves had gone all out, a Christmas feast inappropriately lavish for a party of only two. Even now lunch was over most of the food remained untouched, and though the crackers had been pulled, neither of them deigned to put the Christmas crowns on their head. "Presents?" Noëlle suggested, getting up from the table and moving into the lounge area. She opened her own first, carefully selected gifts from Blaise that he'd somehow managed to obtain despite how hard it was to shop at school, and how little time he’d had at home. Then it was Blaise's turn, opening up packages of robes. Practical and high quality, but hardly personal. There was one gift she'd put more effort into though, Blaise unwrapping a container of face cream specially crafted by Noëlle. "I noticed your skin wasn't looking it's best," she explained, Blaise summoning a mirror to look for these flaws in his well cared for face. "And you're never too young to start preparing against wrinkles." "Thank you," he replied, unscrewing the lid and carefully applying some right away. Maybe his mother was right and his skin wasn't as perfect as he'd thought. His perception was likely skewed by comparison to classmates like Midgen. They fell into silence, Blaise folding up the used wrapping paper into neat squares, neither of them knowing what to say to the other. They always got on best when there was a wedding to plan and a million details to discuss. They didn’t know how to talk to each other otherwise. “I suppose that’s all then,” she commented, breaking the long pause, getting up from the lounge and leaving her gifts for an elf to bring up to her later. “Merry Christmas.” 31 December “Which earrings?” Noëlle held a pair up to each ear. Blaise looked up from his book, considering both options with more care than such a decision needed, taking his time before gesturing towards his selection. She put the chosen earrings in, turning her head for him to see once she’d done. He nodded in approval, pleased with his choice. “You look beautiful.” “Are you going out tonight?” she asked. “No,” he replied simply, holding up his book to show he had other plans. “Your friends aren’t having a party?” “Probably.” “But you’re not going because…?” she prompted, only interested because she was slightly worried that he was a social outcast and that would reflect badly on her. Some of his classmates’ parents were her friends, after all. “I see my friends every day at school. Why would I want to spend my holidays with them too?” “Alright.” Noëlle didn’t have the time nor care to push any further. “Enjoy your evening.” 7 January Blaise was almost out the door when Noëlle came downstairs. Oh good, you’re going out. With friends? A girlfriend? she almost said, before noticing his trunk. “Back to school?” she asked the obvious question instead, never having paid much attention to term break dates. “Yes,” he replied, sounding guilty, as though he’d been caught sneaking out. “I was going to say goodbye, but I didn’t want to disturb you.” “Would you like me to accompany you to the station?” she offered. They both knew she didn’t mean it. She wasn’t even dressed yet, and Noëlle Zabini didn’t do getting ready in a hurry. He’d miss the train if she came. “I’m not a child, I can get myself to the station,” he replied, voice full of disdain for those who were still dropped off by their parents, hiding jealousy for those whose parents made time. Noëlle smiled in relief. “I’ll see you next break,” she told him, moving closer to air kiss him goodbye and straightening his already perfect robes.”Perhaps by then we’ll have a wedding to plan.” “Perhaps,” Blaise echoed, with much less enthusiasm than usually came with the idea of wedding planning. Not that Noëlle noticed, already shutting the door behind him and getting on with her day as though he’d never even been home. |