I don’t know if the requests are still open , but if they are could you do an imagine where YN and Blaise prank Draco ( YN’S boyfriend). Also your blog is awesome and I love your aesthetics.have an nice day
a/n: thank you, love! I hope you don’t mind, but the relationship is slightly altered. it’s a bit more…dramatic? oh well, comme est la vie.
To befriend Blaise Zabini, one must have a certain edge. They have to embody Salazar’s dream, while remaining interesting, confident, and remarkably intelligent. It was no wonder when he began sitting next to Y/n L/n during meals.
They had met in Transfiguration. Neither could remain interested, and both would rather fight the Whomping Willow than hear another lecture on the power behind accenting certain syllables. As his moon-like eyes wandered around the room, they paused on a girl attempting to morph a feather into the past night’s homework. She stared with determination at Hermione Granger’s scrolls, not bothering to watch her own quill morph into a near replica. Zabini was astounded, and exceedingly intrigued. They’ve been best friends ever since.
It wasn’t unusual to see the two lounging under a tree, casting pebbles into the Black Lake. When Y/n needed the sun, and Blaise needed fresh air, the two would find their way to a tall oak, casually discussing life, sinister plans, but specifically, the past week.
‘And I swear, if that oaf, Weasley, thinks I’m just going to let him ruin our project, I’ll positively pass out from internal combustion. If we get paired up again, I think I’ll accidentally crucio him.’ A smirk of realization made its way to Blaise’s lips. Of course! How had he never thought of this before…
Y/n and Draco!
It was a perfect match! The way they talked, the way they acted, it was like a pair made in heaven.
‘Oh, Y/n, dear, have you ever thought about dating anyone at this barmy school?’ She narrowed her eyes, flicking his hand with a small smile. ‘Now, Blaise, you know I love you, but-’ ‘Not me, dimwit. I’m just wondering if you ever thought about, perhaps, going on a blind date?’ Her nose scrunched in thoughts, a gentle breeze kissing their cheeks. ‘I suppose, after that horrendous afternoon with Oliver Wood, I wouldn’t mind being courted.’ He jumped up, already marching towards the common room. ‘Then it’s settled. Puddifoot’s, half past five, dress nicely!’ Y/n chuckled to herself while staring off at the branches. Maybe the mystery boy wouldn’t be all that bad.
‘No.’ It was preposterous. Feigning a look of astonishment, Blaise gasped, plopping himself onto one of the common room’s multiple armchairs. ‘And when have I ever steered you wrong?’ Draco looked up from his novel, milky tendrils falling onto his forehead. ‘Last month, I had to sit quietly while Daphne Greengrass complained about magical nail polish for three hours. Two weeks ago, you set me up with Bullstrode at Honeydukes. Have you ever seen a Bullstrode at a sweets shop? It’s like watching a starved warthog chomp on cake.’ Heaving an exhale, Zabini strolled towards the fire, a shallow smirk gracing his lips. ‘I guess I’ll have to find someone else to quench L/n’s loneliness.’ As expected, Draco looked up, his eyes wide with astonishment. ‘Y-You mean…L/n said yes…to a date with me?’ Blaise couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty at the childlike wonder in his best mate’s eyes. ‘Course she did. But, since you’ve no interest-’ ‘I-I’ll make time.’ He looked down to the blonde, watching as he picked at a fingernail. It was as easy as taking candy from an elf.
As the breeze tickled down his back, his nervous breath floated with the current, eyes everywhere at once. She said yes. Y/n L/n actually wanted to have dinner with him! For years, he’d watched, wondered, craved. Zabini always had a knack for collecting the most marvelous things for his collection. He had a cufflink once belonging to Merlin, a hairbrush used by a young Grindelwald, but most importantly, he had the most exquisite being in Britain swayed with ambitious alliance. No one could ever even touch an item in his possession, and here Draco was, standing outside Puddifoot’s, anxiously waiting the arrival of Zabini’s pride and joy. ‘Don’t tell me you got all dressed up for little, ol’ me?’ He spun, quickly, inches away from deep, e/c eyes. Pronounced speechless, Y/n curtsied, offering her hand. ‘Y/n L/n. I believe you’re my date.’ They entered the quaint shop, diving into interesting discussion. You must understand, Draco didn’t do anything like this. He’d been on dates, sure. He’d conversed with some of London’s finest. Yet, none grabbed his attention. No witch could ever light that spark behind his eyes, and here she was, igniting an inferno. Y/n, on the other hand, never did anything like this. She never dated, never conversed. To say she was a recluse would be like calling Dumbledore ‘aged.’ When she won Zabini’s care, she had been playful, spunky, and snide. What she hadn’t thought of was the side-effects, resulting in a mean-streak, harmfulness, and ultimately, cruelty. She watched as Draco’s expression turned from joy to horror as he looked in his tea. A live cockroach climbed out of the cup, fluttering onto his pant leg.
Most people didn’t have the luxury of knowing Malfoy as a child. He was optimistic, but spoiled, yet curious. During a trip to South America, the young boy promised himself to try new and exotic foods. What he hadn’t expected was the lack of cleanliness in the kitchen to affect his meal. He bit into a crunchy, odd tasting soup, finding half a bug left in the substance. He had to be immediately apparated back to his room in England, where his mother cradled him for a week.
Y/n did not have the luxury of knowing Malfoy as a child.
He stood, quickly, his body shaking violently as the roach clung harder to the fabric of his pants. He began pulling at his hair, while Y/n became actively worried about the state of his mentality. She, hastily, pulled out her wand, zapping the creature out of existence. Looking around in fear, Draco met the eye of every patron, their stare forcing him to run from the shop. Y/n flicked a galleon onto the table, before following him into a darkened alley. She found him in a ball on the floor, his head resting between his knees as his hands scratched his leg where the insect had resided. She kneeled next to him, brushing a strand of his hair. ‘A-Are you-’ ‘Why did you do it?’ Her mouth gaped while his shut quickly. Through clenched teeth, he hissed. ‘Puddifoot’s is clean, and c-clean places don’t have roa-’ He had to stop himself. She fiddled with her dress, looking anywhere but his trembling figure. ‘I didn’t think it’d be that bad. I-I’m sorry. I’m not good with dates, a-and I thought it might be funny. I didn’t think-’ ‘No, you didn’t.’ She sat next to him, looking at his scrunched nose and boiling cheeks. ‘Will you come with me to one more place before our date ends?’ Although he was shaken and certainly unsure, he had never been more curious.
Poofing out of thin air, the pair found themselves a few miles outside Hogwarts, feet pooling into a crystal clear pond. A faded waterfall poured misty water into the lagoon, the forest cocooning them into a peaceful frame of mind. ‘It’s called the Cleansing Pool. Legend says if you bath in the water, you’ll be rid of all sorrow.’ He looked at her, his hard exterior melting light a candle. ‘I really messed this date up, but if you’ll let me, I’d really like to swim with you.’ He grimaced, his gaze following the ripples. ‘I’ve brought no swim trunks.’ She smiled, meeting his eyes which matched the lake. ‘Lucky for you, I’m excellent with transfiguration.’