Year One - Blaise Zabini
Blaise Zabini - Year one - December
Curiosity killed the cat.
A phrase that always resonated with him.
Blaise Zabini.
He considered himself a smart kid - even if the word kid irked him greatly when he was already eleven years old - and he saw himself as pretty mature… but sadly sometimes curiosity took the best of him.
The first, and only, time he actually remembered that his curiosity kicked him in the butt, was when he started to get suspicious of his mother’s partner.
An Slavic man with a big build, big mustache and even a bigger wallet. His Mother seemed to be having fun with him but there was something that gave him an itch at the back of his seven year old neck.
Perhaps it was the sickly sweetness he demonstrated towards his mother, or the crazy amount of compliments Blaise heard about their state, or even perhaps it was the fact that he always kept his satchel close to him at all times.
Blaise was dying to know what was inside that satchel… and he almost did.
The Slavic man - Bodgan, he now remembers - pulled a knife to his throat the second he found Blaise snooping inside his satchel.
Why?
The Slavic man was trying to poison his mother.
The satchel was full of notes, about his mother’s routine and her food preferences, some poison recipes, and a single vial of something that even his young eyes - some would say younger - could recognize as poison.
Blaise almost died that night, but, as the saying goes:
Curiosity killed the cat.
Satisfaction Brought him back.
Arabella Zabini, his mother and adored dubious role model, killed the Slavic man with a flick of her wand and an impassive stare. It was quick as it was sudden, and gave Blaise a healthy respect and fear for his mother.
“Mio principe.” She said, with the same love and affection she always showed to him, ignoring the Slavic man that lay in front of him, his eyes and mouth open in sudden death. “Curiosity is a good thing to have, but always remember…” She said, adding to the phrase that was always on his mind. “... Be always sure that the outcome favors you.”
So, from then on, Blaise not only got closer to his mother but added to the phrase that he holds close to his heart.
Curiosity killed the cat.
Satisfaction Brought him back.
Only If the rewards match.
Since then, he lived his life with a healthy amount of suspicion and awareness of his surroundings, noticing that most of his endeavors led by his curiosity were tame and doable for him. Nothing grand, nothing dangerous, perhaps a bit mundane… but after almost dying at the hands of the man that called himself Blaise’s next stepfather, well…
Who could blame him?
It was at the Greengrass’ winter ball when Blaise felt the spark of curiosity reigniting. Just an ember that made his pulse grow faster and his lips dry.
And the cause?
None other than Draco Lucius Malfoy.
Pureblood as they came, bratty as all hell, his ‘friend’ seemed to have changed one day to the other. Away was the posh insecure little brat that he mostly knew for big gatherings and high society events, replaced by a mature, polite and sarcastic person that Blaise almost could call a man.
First with his sorting to Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin.
Second with his nerdy, but scholarly style that took everyone by surprise - not because Malfoy was dumb before… but the change was much to handle.
And Thirdly… his separation for the click he had cultivated for his whole life.
Malfoy’s aura - or whatever it actually was - shifted visibly. The air of arrogance was completely gone, displaced by confidence with the pep in his step that somewhat backed up his attitude.
Then there was the Winter Ball.
Respectful and collected, Malfoy even had not only gathered the favor of the host - Lady Greengrass - but took someone, Nott, spitting on his face like a veteran diplomat. Gracefully and sneakily insulting Nott to the point that the younger of the two almost tried to pounce and hit him.
Draco did nothing Blaise expected.
It was a mystery.
A conundrum.
A huge enigma that called Blaise to solve it.
Curiouser and curiouser
Lord Nott forced Theodore to apologize to Malfoy, who accepted the apology like nothing happened… Blaise didn’t buy what the blonde heir was saying, and his suspicions were correct…
“Disgusting little brat.” Draco Malfoy said while cleaning his face. A twisted grimace on his face, full of anger and disdain - the first real outward emotion Blaise has seen in Malfoy for a while… and it was both terrifying as it was exhilarating
“I must applaud that performance, Malfoy. You got every adult eating from your hand.” Blaise decided to say, a combination of aloof but interested - like his mother while wooing her targets.
“Who says it was a performance, Zabini?” The same tone that Molfoy used with Nott reappeared. Polite, above it all with an adult demeanor.
Curiouser.
“Oh, please.” He said laughing. “The you before Hogwarts would have never danced with Daphne’s little sister and would have thrown a colossal fit for half of what Nott said. So, this is all an act, a really good one or…”
“Or?”
Malfoy looked innocent for a sudden second, just like an actor that had been given a cue, and if Blaise didn’t know better after hearing the vitriol Malfoy had spat insulting Nott while he thought no one was looking… Blaise wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t have been convinced.
“You are actually hiding something.”
Malfoy stood there, right before the grand side entrance of the ballroom at the Greengrass’ state when Blaise noticed a hint of a smile, the sharpening of those silvery gray eyes, the relaxing of Malfoy’s posture that somehow infuriated and got Blaise terribly excited - Malfoy was indeed hiding something, something big, and seemed to think himself as so above Blaise that it didn’t matter that he now knew that Blaise was on to him.
He believed it too.
Blaise believed he was just but a speck on whatever Malfoy was hiding, just a small thing that couldn’t even be considered an inconvenience… and Blaise didn’t care, at all.
His blood was pumping hard enough to make his hearing incredibly muffled.
“Oh, how would you love that, wouldn't you, Zabini?” Malfoy’s voice was buttery and silky, making Blaise think of a siren, whispering words that no one would believe but him. Taunting him with unknown knowledge.
“Yes, I would. I love secrets.”
“Well… perhaps one day, Zabini.”
Blaise knew… this was completely worth his death by curiosity as the potencial satisfaction and reward, looked much, much, greater.