BLURRY | Blaise Zabini x Reader

𝟕 : MATCH . . .

. . .

The next morning, the Slytherin table was positively bombinating with excitement. It was true that the Gryffindors were the most arrogant of the houses, but Slytherin was already smug with an assumed victory. Students huddled around their star players, handing them extra slices of toast and cups brim-full of glittering orange juice. Professor Snape stalked through the tables of the Great Hall with a sober yet confident look on his crooked face, even stopping to pat Draco warmly on the shoulder. Crabbe and Goyle were beasts in their preparation, howling with laughter at every joke and stuffing pounds of breakfast turkey into their mouths in a great display of pigishness. Every now and then, Gryffindors would cast furtive glances over at the swarm of green and silver joy and look confusedly at each other, wondering. There had not been this much action for the whole year, and especially not at the last match, for Draco had been unable to play and was replaced with useless Harper.

This game, however, was making use of all the best players. Montague was captain, as he had been last year. He was larger even than Crabbe and Goyle, with black hair and the beginning of a beard. He was a seventh-year, which meant he was even above Blaise, who for some reason only ever spoke of him with distaste. He was a good player, nevertheless, or he had been while he was active. Due to Crabbe and Goyle's intensely tight friendship, Montague resigned to be only the captain, placing them together in the beaters' spots. They were not as good as him, but they were violent, which was quite literally the only thing necessary for the position. Besides them were Pucey, Vaisey, and Blaise– or rather Zabini– as chasers. Pucey and Vaisey were nothing to complain about. They operated like brothers, not as close as Crabbe and Goyle but similarly joined at the hip and stuck at the same level. Zabini was, of course, extraordinary. You acknowledged that it was certainly bias, but you also knew that most students agreed with you. He had joined in his third year and only improved from there, spending the minimum amount of time for practice and getting the maximum results. Just now, at the end of the Slytherin table, he was sitting with Draco and grinning.

Bletchley, a sixth-year with a thin frame, small eyes, and big ears, was keeper. He was not bad, but was obviously wearing himself out over the years. You quite thought that you would make a good keeper, but they were sort of anti-girls-on-the-team, especially about third-years. Anyway, the idea of playing with Blaise and Draco was terrifying. Speaking of the latter– Draco was seeker for the team, and a remarkably good one at that. He didn't compare with Harry Potter, who played seeker for the Gryffindors, but he was a bit better than Ravenclaw's Chang and much better than Hufflepuff's Murray.

Today, Draco looked a little sickly. Perhaps it had something to do with the massive amounts of homework the sixth-years were getting (which Blaise mentioned to you), but he was leaning over his plate and poking at his food with a dejected look that suggested some bigger reason. You wondered for a moment if he could've found out about Theodore and Pansy, but realized that Theodore was sitting near him, which would not be the case should he find out. Actually, what would he do?

"Yn," implored Lucy from beside you. "Come on, will you?"

Unbeknownst to you, the Gryffindor students had started rising and leaving in a rush from the Great Hall.

"If we leave now, we have just enough time to get ready and find good seats in the stands."

"Right," you complied, extracting yourself from the jumble of legs beneath the table and beginning to walk with Lucy and Arabella. A few Slytherins followed behind you, as did the Ravenclaws, and at the same time, the Hufflepuffs followed behind the Gryffindors. Even the teachers were moving quickly, eager to watch what already looked to be a very entertaining game.

"Blaise playing?" Bella asked, as the three of you made your ways into your dormitory.

"Of course." Already laying out, you grabbed a pair of warm green gloves and a gray hat from the sheets of your four-poster. "He says it's going to be a big victory for him, though I don't really see how much he can do."