BLURRY | Blaise Zabini x Reader

𝟖 : CELEBRATIONS . . .

. . .

The common room was raucous.

Despite their cockiness, Slytherin house had not actually won a match in months, nor had they even come close– thus, today was a most especial occasion. As if it had been pre-prepared, the common room was filled with fluorescent green streamers and translucent fireworks. The snakes in the banners hanging on the walls were uncoiled and hissing proudly, while the previously-serious subjects of the portraits were smiling with mirth.

The couches had been pushed to the edges of the room, making way for the huge amount of students that was suddenly pouring in through the doorway. A fire had been lit in the great stone fireplace, filling the area with torrid heat. Atop newly-added tables rattled what looked like old stores of butterbeer; the labels on the bottles were almost fully worn off, but inside still sloshed honey-colored liquid. Plates of various breads and pastries were on every surface and, you glimpsed, a half-covered container of firewhiskey sat in a damp corner.

"Merlin," breathed Arabella from beside you. There had only been two parties as exciting as this in your time at school, and both had been last year. Unfortunately for Arabella, however, she had spent most of her second year fighting a vicious bout of Dragon Pox in St. Mungo's.

"Better get right in," decided Lucy, side-stepping both of you and walking into the mix of people. Bella watched admiringly as she took a pumpkin pasty from a serious-looking fifth-year and ate it whole.

"She can be so bold sometimes," you said.

"That's what's great about her." Bella slunk her own way through the crowd and reached Lucy.

As you glanced to your right, the firewhiskey in the corner was having the covering cloth thrown off of it. Nimble hands unlatched the clasps connecting bottle to container and began to hand out the drink. Just a moment... those nimble hands were recognizable.

"None for you," Theodore said, when he saw you staring. He was smirking, one eyebrow raised, and was, with the same hand, holding a bottle and pointing at you. "Much too young." He shook his head before looking back at the entry into the common room. A purple-haired girl stepped in and then closed the door behind her, which seemed to make Theodore relax.

"I wasn't going to ask for any," you shrugged. "Where's everyone?"

He gestured around, simultaneously flipping the lid off of the bottle. "Everyone's here."

"I meant Blaise, Draco and them."

"'ll probably be here in a bit. Still getting changed, I expect." As he spoke, the door burst open again and seven sweaty boys filed in. Leading was Montague, who crashed into his friends and shouted "we won!" with enthusiasm. Next were Pucey and Vaisey, who were given high-fives and patted on the back; then Crabbe and Goyle and Bletchley, all of whom stood off to the side; followed by Blaise, who incited loud cheers, and finally Draco, who cut over his tumultuous applause in a sharp voice: "Let's start this fucking party."

"Yes, Draco!" Shouted Theodore, quickly slinging two firewhiskeys into his arms and marching over to his friends. Across the room, a record skipped, and in a moment some overly-noisy music was seeping between the students. The double-layer of socks in your boots was beginning to overheat you, but you stuffed yourself head-first into the crowd anyway. What fun was a party if it wasn't a little uncomfortable?

Lucy and Arabella were already dancing, swaying slowly to the up-beat melody. The latter's eyes were closed dreamily, but the former was smiling at anyone who looked her way.

"Oi, Bella," you began. "More confident all of a sudden, are you?"

"Would ye whisht?" she replied, still apparently ignoring her surroundings. You gave a quizzical look to Lucy, who looked equally as unsure, and then laughed it off.