Chapter 4 - Slytherin vs Ravenclaw

Classes resumed and during the next few weeks of January, the castle and grounds were surrounded in cold dreary mist. The pressure of homework came back in full force, as was the battle for the Quidditch Cup. But all Blaise could think about was Luna Lovegood, sitting in the Forbidden Forest, surrounded by Thestrals, looking as serene and majestic as some sort of forest nymph. And as if having that image seared into his mind wasn't bad enough, he now saw her everywhere.

He saw her as she made her way to Potions. Saw her in the library, often nestled into a window seat reading or studying her OWLS with Ginny Weasley. Sometimes he saw her coming down from Divinations as he walked to Defence Against the Dark Arts. And to his greatest chagrin, he caught himself looking for her during mealtimes in the Great Hall. More than once he found she sometimes skipped meals, most often lunch. And that made him feel things he couldn't nor wanted to understand.

At least in his own state of confusion he could evade the questions that both Parkinson and Nott were asking him. Parkinson had always been dreadfully nosy and had somehow taken on a watch dog role for the Slytherin boys in her year, annoying both him and Nott endlessly. Although she tended to forget Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy seemed to be the only one able to successfully give her the slip. Which was surprising, because he and Parkinson had begun to date more seriously this year, if trips to dark corners or empty classrooms were any indication. And yet, Blaise had noticed Malfoy often leaving for long periods of time. He would much rather have Parkinson put all her efforts into her slithering boyfriend then firing questions at him.

Nott was subtler about it than Parkinson. But he too had noticed Blaise's sudden absence the day of their arrival and his lack of attention afterwards. The fact that his classmates saw that there was something bothering him was an insult enough. His impassiveness had never failed him before, but somehow was cracking. He swore he had felt it crack when he saw her that day, slipping in and out of the kitchens, before heading outside. Something had made him start to follow her, before he even realised he was doing it. By the time his mind had caught up, he was somewhere in the Forbidden Forest, and then he couldn't just turn back. What if something bad happened? What if she needed his help? And so he had continued on, stumbling into a scene that kept replaying in his mind, over and over again until he saw sure he would go mad.

And so Blaise turned to the activity that could rid his mind of all thoughts. Flying. Quidditch practices had been intense this year and he had been incredibly grateful for it, especially now. Another bonus was that the Quidditch pitch seemed to be the only part of Hogwarts that Luna Lovegood didn't attend. With that knowledge, he now found himself heading to the pitch whenever he could, practically living in his Quidditch uniform. Slytherin Captain Urquhart was especially pleased by this appearance of dedication, since the championship was tough indeed. They had lost against Gryffindor and their next match against Ravenclaw was planned the second weekend of February. They would need a good margin in points to cancel out the loss and take over the lead from Ravenclaw, who had won their match against Hufflepuff. The inter-house feelings of rivalry were good to keep in his mind whenever he saw… her.

Slughorn meanwhile hadn't yet resumed his dinners, which Blaise was happy about. It had plagued him more than once that perhaps she had made an impression on Slughorn since the Christmas Party and would now be a regular invite. He wasn't sure he could handle that. It troubled him that he had genuinely enjoying talking to her in the forest. It scared him shitless how much he had shared. Feelings and experiences he had not shared with anyone. Had never wanted to share with anyone and now couldn't take back. And she, he sensed, was someone who never forgot anything. And he knew, that if the situation was right, she would talk to him. Easily. Without any filter. Regardless of the difference in their houses, class, blood or age. Whatever barriers that had usually protected him from any type of conversation he didn't want to engage him, Luna Lovegood simply floated through those walls, as if she were the Grey Lady herself. It frightened him to his core.

The match against Ravenclaw was played on another cold and rainy day. It was so cold, that the usually green light emanating through the Slytherin dorms and common room had turned rather blue. And if that was any indication towards the outcome of todays match, Blaise would reconsider taking up Divination again. He decided to change into his Quidditch gear immediately so he would be ready to go do a few rounds before the game.

A Quidditch match always lead to excitement within the school and the Great Hall was already packed with students gulping down some breakfast and preparing for a cold morning in the stands. Blaise forced himself to shove down enough breakfast, swallowing it all done with bitter coffee. After being sure he had enough, he let his eyes run over the Ravenclaw table, just once before he would get up and go. His gaze came to an alarming halt.

There she was, serene and dreamy looking as always, with the largest hat, nay, monstrosity on her pale head. A gigantic eagle with spread wings moved along with her, being both hilarious and hideous at the same time. Obviously it was her own creation. Merlin's balls. He now seemed to recognise some snickering around him as more of his classmates had laid their eyes on the embodiment of Ravenclaw house pride. When he was finally able to tear his eyes away from her, he could see her own classmates, who were, thankfully, looking at her with some adoration, although a few younger students seemed as baffled as he saw. He saw the Weasley girl give her a wave and thumbs up, obviously liking the hat. It was then Blaise remembered that he had seen someone wearing a life-like Lions Head during the Slytherin Gryffindor game. That had to have been her. How she hadn't captured his attention then, he would never know. Probably the wrong attention. Although, he told himself sternly, any attention towards her was wrong. Impassive. Aloof. Uncaring. Uninterested. Those were the feelings and manners he had to enforce. Immediately.

He rose quickly, and left the Hall without another word to his classmates around him. He also ignored Nott's questioning call or Vaisley's attempt to walk with him. He stretched his long legs and nearly ran towards to pitch and into the fresh cold air. Fly, he needed desperately to fly. He spoke to no one as he pulled on his protective gear and swung over his Nimbus 2001. The second he launched himself into the air, he began to feel better. Circling around the pitch, he found the world coming back into focus. The cold air helping him regain control. He was in control. Stoic. Impassive. And he liked being that way.

Soon the stadium started to fill up, with the Slytherins and Ravenclaws decked out in their best supporter wear. Even the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs had come to show their support. They had of course chosen the side of the Ravenclaws. Nothing new there. They needed all the support they could get anyway. The rest of his team had joined him in the air and the Ravenclaws too were flying themselves in. The mist led to less visibility in the air, but Blaise judged it to still be fine for Harper. He was surprised at his teammate's capabilities after having replaced Malfoy. Despite Malfoy having bought his way into the Quidditch team in only his second year, curtsy of the Nimbus 2001's, he actually was a fine Seeker. Still better than Harper. But Harper was also a vicious player, and Blaise was sure that with more practice, he would definitely improve and rise above Malfoy. The fact that Malfoy even let this happen was surprising. But Blaise couldn't be more than pleased to see his whining and pathetic ass less and less. It was obvious there was something going on with the boy, and Blaise decided to give him as wide of a berth as possible. Without offending him of course. He didn't need Parkinson nagging him anymore than she already did.

The Snitch and Bludgers were released and Madame Hooch flew into the field with the Quaffle. Blaise zoned in on the large red ball. It was time to focus. The whistle rang in his ears and he sped forward, grabbing the Quaffle from the air, then swerving to the side to avoid one of the Ravenclaw chasers. He honed in on the golden rings and saw two of his team mates flank his side. Passing the Quaffle between them, they wove their way through the onslaught of blue and bronze. Soon enough he was face to face with the Keeper. Making a dive manoeuvre, Blaise hurled the Quaffle through one of the rings. The cheering from the Slytherin stands was deafening and Blaise felt himself grin.

"Zabini scores the first point. 10 points to Slytherin." Came the commentator voice and Blaise instantly recognised it, wiping away his grin. Zacharias Smith. The arrogant, sorry excuse for a wizard, who apparently was friendly enough with Luna, for her to mention Smith in her letter to him. That thought alone made Blaise feel the sudden urge to copy the Weasley girl and fly into him on purpose. Perhaps he would, after the match. He risked a quick look over the Ravenclaw stands. The gigantic eagle was easy to spot, now flapping it's wings excitedly. It completely obscured Luna herself, which was probably for the better. Smith's nasally tone brought him back into the game.

"Ravenclaw has the Quaffle. And Scamander hits away a Bludger from Chang. Nice swing."

With the mention of Chang, Blaise looked towards Harper, who was focused on his hunt for the Snitch. Good. And with that Blaise threw himself back in the game, wrestling for the Quaffle or helping their own defence. Soon his mind had dedicated itself to the task. He barely felt the increasing rain on his skin. Despite his dislike of the boy, Smith's commentary helped Blaise keep a good mental image of what was going on around him. As he scored two more goals and assisted in three, Slytherin had taken on a slim lead to Ravenclaw with 70 – 50. There still appeared no sight of the Snitch although Chang had given some indication of seeing something. It was more than Harper had, which now did begin to worry Blaise, and he signalled with Vaisley and Urquhart to up their game. His recent practice would come in handy, being shifter and sharper, flying on the edge of fair play and foul.

They scored four more times while defending their goal posts so fiercely that the Ravenclaw Chasers had been unable to pass through. But then Chang had seen the Snitch and dove down towards it. Even Blaise could see that Harper was flying a lost battle as he raced after her. Unless she made a mistake they were done for. And Chang rarely made mistakes when it came to Quidditch.

Blaise groaned and growled in defeat as Madame Hooch's whistle signalled the end of the match as the supporters clad in blue, red and yellow erupted in cheers. He wanted to hit something. As if on demand, he saw a Bludger making a final lunge towards him. He ripped the Beater's bat from one of his Beaters and whacked the incoming ball with all his might. With a satisfying thud, it imbedded itself in the stand housing the commentator box. He was sure he heard a yelp over the celebratory cheers. Well at least he would have that.

He spent a long time in the changing room showers. The Common Room was the last place he wanted to be right now. The rain and wind had only picked up further, destroying his plans of stalking through the grounds. And so he found himself aimlessly strolling through the dungeons, debating the best place to go for some peace. Despite the teaching of impassiveness, he had always been competitive in sports, whether Quidditch or equestrian races. In fact, he now felt a sudden urge to jump on a horse and ride until neither he or the horse could continue. Once Easter break came around he vowed to go straight to his family's stables.

Lost in thought, he finally looked up to find that he feet had brought him to the kitchens. He eyed to fruit basket painting suspiciously before shrugging to himself. Oh, what the hell and leaned over to tickle the pear. Instantly the round door swung open and he stepped through. As always the house elves were rushing about busily, barely looking up in greeting. Which was fine to Blaise, he knew where the Mulled Mead and Butterbeer were kept, and although he much rather preferred a good Firewhiskey, they would have to do. But his purposeful stride towards the drinks were stopped when he heard his name being called. Because of course she would bloody well be here too. Merlin, what ever had he done in his life to deserve this? His Italian family had always believed in karma, and while a young Blaise had always stubbornly rejected the idea, he was now seriously considering it, particularly how to get rid of it.

He turned, schooling his face into an impassive mask, which promptly failed as he stood eye to eye with the now menacing looking eagle. It's life-like amber eyes seeming to burrow into his very soul. Then he looked down and saw her brilliant moonlight eyes smiling up at him. His heart clenched and he wondered how he hadn't yet crumpled into some pathetic heap. To cry? To laugh? To throw the most epic tantrum not even Magdalena would ever be able to replicate? He didn't know. Perhaps all at once. But before he could do just that, she spoke.

"I am sorry you lost your match Blaise. You played very well." Her serene and dreamy voice filled his senses and something within him seemed to relax. It was far more effective than anything else he had tried these past few weeks. He felt like some sort of addict, who after weeks of crippling sobriety, had given in once again and was soothed. It was unhealthy and toxic but he apparently hadn't been able to stop himself. And as his addled brain started to process her words, he felt pride ripple from the darkest pit of his stomach all the way to his now tingling fingertips. She thought he played well. Which of course he had. A bloody pity that Harper hadn't and his own efforts hadn't been good enough. But even that suddenly ceased to matter because she had seen him play. He felt his mouth curve into a smile. But before he could form a reply, another voice distracted him and his entire being seemed to snap into focus, sweeping the space to find the culprit.

The culprit turned out to be a fellow Ravenclaw, who stood beside her now. A pretty girl with tanned skin and a thick plait of shining black hair going down her back. And Blaise found he recognised her as she was in his year.

"You hardly kept score. Come on Luna, let's go. Rolf said he would keep an eye out for Filch." Padma Patil said, her dark eyes eyeing Blaise suspiciously. It was then that he saw their arms were full of treats and several bottles of Butterbeer that he had wanted. He met the girl's dark stare before turning back to Luna, with a deliberate flick, that he knew she would interpret as a dismissal. Instead he focused on returning Luna's smile with a cocky one of his own.

"Thank you Lovegood. I am glad to hear you know good Quidditch players when you see them."

Patil gave an indignant snort while Luna blinked at him.

"Oh no, not really. You just scored a lot. But I did think the clouds were atmospheric. Your Seeker seemed to struggle with Wrackspurts at the end. They prefer wet conditions so the match was ideal. Did you find your mind go fuzzy at points too?"

"Luna…" Patil interjected a bit louder, a blush forming on her mocha skin. "We really should go…"

"Wrackspurts…?"

"Yes. They are invisible and float through your ears to make your brain go fuzzy. There seems to be quite an infestation this year." She told him seriously and Blaise resisted the urge to laugh. Perhaps he ought to seriously consider the possibility that that was what was wrong with him this year. It sounded more logical than karma ever did.

"Then I'll be careful." He said instead and watched in amusement as Patil had started to physically move her classmate towards the kitchen entrance. "Enjoy your celebrations." He told them and smiled as he heard Patil mutter, while Luna quipped a sweet thank you.

She had seemingly understood Patil's desperate need to get away and let her lead her away, gliding through the space. He waited until they reached the round entrance, that Patil had wrestled open with her available elbow.

"Lovegood?" He called out, rather liking the way her name sounded in his deep voice. Luna was sweet and adorable. Lovegood somehow sounded feisty. Wrackspurts or not, he was fucked. He watched as she turned, a quizzical look on her pale face. He ignored Patil's glare of utter annoyance. "I like your hat." He said simply, flashing her a grin. Then his heart looped around his intestine as she beamed back at him.

Not even the horrid depressive gloom summoned by every sulking Slytherin in the Common Room could dampen his mood after that.