The Detective Club | Blaise Zabini

I. XXXVIII. XXXVIII

"I'll be like," Antheia paused for a moment, "an advisor!" She turned to look at Blaise, who was walking beside her. He was a different audience member than she was used to, although she already knew that. He hardly showed any change of facial expressions as he listened to her and he didn't really treat her any different than he had before, albeit just a tad kinder, which she didn't mind.

Surprisingly to some, Antheia wasn't particularly fond of public displays of affection. She always had been affectionate and touchy with her friends, yes, but perhaps she had grown used to being secretive with her past relationships. Whatever it was, it worked out in the end because Blaise wasn't either. Occasionally, they'd grab each other's hand as they walked, but for the most part, they kept their hands to themselves unless they were sure they were completely alone.

Hamilton said he didn't see anything different and had she not told him, he probably wouldn't have guessed "Blaise promoted her". It was his Andreas' words in fact because he had been there and interrupted Hamilton to give his very unnecessary commentary. Antheia sent a stinging hex his way but unfortunately Andreas was gifted in charms (another thing they shared in common) and easily extinguished it.

"And you're happy with that?" said Blaise. His voice wasn't harsh but something about his tone sounded judgmental. Knowing him, he'd feign ignorance if she asked why he said it the way he did.

"Why wouldn't I be?" said Antheia, "I was the one who suggested it. Actually, when I found out your mum used to be in the club, I began to wonder who else was. I looked through the log book, with permission, and I realized something. I didn't want to be recorded forever. I'd rather work behind the scenes."

Blaise paused briefly in his steps just as they reached the library, but he continued as quick as he stopped. He didn't respond to her until they reached an empty table, or rather his presence intimidated a poor first year that scrambled off after Blaise looked at him.

"Blaise. . ." said Antheia. She trailed off as she stared at the poor first year that disappeared behind a shelf. This was a different experience for her. She had a few people tell her she was intimidating, but it was definitely for a different reason. She never scared someone into nearly running off with a simple look and she doubted she ever could.

Blaise ignored her as he placed his stuff down and sat down where the first year had been sitting down prior. Antheia sent one last glance at the direction the first year went before she hesitantly sat down across from Blaise.

"You'd rather work behind the scenes?" said Blaise as if the idea was hard to believe. He had been looking for the page he needed to finish his potions essay and his eyes flickered up to her when he spoke but he didn't lift his head. She'd grown accustomed to his sometimes delayed responses. Laurie told her that he was the most rational out of the three of them usually (key word: usually). It made sense considering the more he grew comfortable around her, the more he carefully thought about what he said, which often resulted in short periods of silence as she waited to see if he'd say something. Sometimes, she was sure he wasn't going to but when she never continued, he felt like he had to.

Antheia moved a lot slower when it came to taking out her homework and didn't mind pausing as she responded, "Yeah. Why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," he muttered as he found his page and dipped his quill into his bottle of ink.

"I want to hear what you think," urged Antheia.

Blaise's quill froze but he didn't look up. It took until Antheia had written her name on her essay for him to respond, "I simply don't understand."

"Understand why I wouldn't want to be forever recorded on that book? When I was looking through the log book, I saw a name. My father's name as a matter of fact. Children of previous members aren't supposed to be contracted but someone hadn't been careful."