Girl Harry Potter, antagonistic Blaise Zabini, thoughts?
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Dove tried to tame her hair, looking to Draco for help.
“You look fine, Dove.” He told her. “Mother wouldn’t have let you on the train if you didn’t.”
“But, Dray, please.” He huffed and motioned for her to turn around, combing his hands through her hair, braiding it back, and looping it so it would stay in place. She went to thank him but was interrupted by a mocking laugh behind them. The three, and everyone else, turned around to see a dark-skinned boy with a cruel smirk crowded by two chubby ones with unintelligent faces.
“Did your mummy teach you that, Malfoy?” Draco didn’t turn red, but his cheeks tinged just the slightest pink which was more than Dove had seen on him.
“Zabini, are they letting just anyone attend Hogwarts these days? I might have to reconsider my academic options.”
“You think you’re so clever, don’t you? And what? Now you’re in crowd with the Chosen One? That’s a complete turn from the old days of the Malfoy line, isn’t it?” He approached Dove and held out his hand to shake. “Blaise Zabini, a pleasure to meet you.”
She glanced down at his hand and back up with a stormy face that would have made Draco or Ron stop to consider their actions. “I wish I could say the same.”
Zabini didn’t look upset, but instead smirked derisively. “One day you will come to regret that decision. Until then, Potter.”
“You look fine, Dove.” He told her. “Mother wouldn’t have let you on the train if you didn’t.”
“But, Dray, please.” He huffed and motioned for her to turn around, combing his hands through her hair, braiding it back, and looping it so it would stay in place. She went to thank him but was interrupted by a mocking laugh behind them. The three, and everyone else, turned around to see a dark-skinned boy with a cruel smirk crowded by two chubby ones with unintelligent faces.
“Did your mummy teach you that, Malfoy?” Draco didn’t turn red, but his cheeks tinged just the slightest pink which was more than Dove had seen on him.
“Zabini, are they letting just anyone attend Hogwarts these days? I might have to reconsider my academic options.”
“You think you’re so clever, don’t you? And what? Now you’re in crowd with the Chosen One? That’s a complete turn from the old days of the Malfoy line, isn’t it?” He approached Dove and held out his hand to shake. “Blaise Zabini, a pleasure to meet you.”
She glanced down at his hand and back up with a stormy face that would have made Draco or Ron stop to consider their actions. “I wish I could say the same.”
Zabini didn’t look upset, but instead smirked derisively. “One day you will come to regret that decision. Until then, Potter.”
26-30, F
