Harry Potter One Shots (Vol. I)

Black Widow Witch in Training (Adrian Pucey)

"Well, he has worked hard enough to deserve it."

"That he has."

And then, at the sound of approaching steps, even weighted and unrushed in their approach, our conversation halted. I was forced to disregard the curiosity I felt of how Mother was going to get rid of her disgusting husband this time, and simply waited. The footsteps stilled eventually and, from beneath my lashes, I managed to spy a tall, broad-shouldered figure standing a short distance away from our table.

Gentle throat clearing had me raising my eyes unsurprised to find that Adrian Pucey had left his mother and grandmother alone to approach our table. And, from what I could see from behind him, the two witches were watching him with rapt attention. It was only natural that they were curious of whatever witches he expressed interest for; he was the last remaining male to bear the Pucey name. When I met his eyes, I knew I appeared unsurprised by his appearance and maybe I should have – would have, if I hadn't already anticipated it.

Adrian Pucey, brilliant and handsome and far too smart-mouthed for his own good, had been appointed Head Boy in my sixth year. Of course, it was during my sixth year that he happened to spend the spare time he had between being on the house Quidditch team, Head Boy duties and studying for exams, revolving around me. Little old me who had played the role of the bashful girl to such perfection that he understood why I continued to resist and yet showed no signs of the entitlement that most pureblood only children seemed to have engrained into them in childhood. That had been the role I played in sixth year, the one I knew he wanted me to play, but just who would he like me to be this time?

"Mrs Zabini," Adrian finally turned towards Mother after holding my gaze for a moment.

Mother, giving him a knowing glance, returned the greeting with a smile. "Adrian, how have you been?"

"Busy," he explained with a smile, trying and failing to throw a subtle glance my way. I was kind enough not to mention it. "The Quidditch season is approaching."

As Mother continued to talk to Adrian, I found my eyes raking over him appreciatively. He always had been handsome; broad-shouldered in the way that you just knew was enough to make any witch feel protected in his arms, and smart enough to be more than capable of holding a half decent conversation. Except what did looks matter when there were much more important things? Important criteria?

He had fought on the winning side of the war – undergoing Auror training before eventually deciding to become a Quidditch player. From what Blaise occasionally spoke of him, he sometimes went on missions with the Aurors from the ministry when they were understaffed but his Quidditch team was quickly climbing up the ranks. Influential, Blaise had called him only for Theodore to correct that he was powerful. Albeit, the man didn't know how powerful he was. A perfect candidate.

"Excuse me," Mother said finally, preparing to rise from her seat. "I need to powder my nose."

Adrian stepped obligingly out of the way, letting Mother walk through and when she passed me, she brushed a hand over my arm. It was a hint – an agreement, really. Love was done with the head, not the heart and Adrian was the picture-perfect recipient for that kind of love. And, from the way he instantly took Mother's vacant seat, he would be all too easily reeled in. It was only a matter of biding my time.

"It's been a while," he started slowly, searching out my eyes and I rewarded him with a slow smile.

"It has," I returned pleasantly before averting my eyes. Would he say anything else?

"Your brother mentioned you're training to become a Curse Breaker?" he started, realising that my attention was slipping.

"I am," I agreed again, shortly and he shuffled in his seat. I decided to take pity on him then; he still remembered me as the false version I had allowed him to see. "Adrian."