Bathwater

False Slytherin Stereotypes

Cho was working on the last sentence of her Ancient Runes essay when the door to her chamber opened with a bang. She jumped up, her arm reaching out across the center table to retrieve her wand, her ink bottle falling over her essay and splashing on to her textbook. She stood, spinning toward the door, body crouching in defense mode—

"Zabini, you foul little git," she hissed when she noticed Blaise in his satin boxers and velvet, emerald slippers. She released her battle stance, but did not lower her wand. "What in Rowena Ravenclaw's name are you doing? I could've cursed you."

"Don't 'foul git' me, Chang," he returned just as sharply, kicking the door closed before walking further into their chamber. "I have something to say and you're going to listen!"

Cho scoffed as she turned away from him. With a frown, she waved her wand over the mess her ink bottle had made. Once her belongings were pristine as usual, she started kneeling back into her original position, but Blaise had caught her elbow.

"I mean it," he told her firmly.

"I don't want to talk to you, Zabini," retorted Cho, pulling back from his touch. 

Blaise defied the witch by stepping closer to her, careful not to have his slippers slide on the marbled ground. "Well, you're going to listen," he told her. "We need to establish a truce, understood? I cannot be getting kicked out of our bloody chamber every other day! Now...My mummy taught me better than this, but if it comes down to violence, don't think I'll hesitate to unleash Pansy on you."

Cho rose her wand higher, closer to his face. "A truce?" she repeated with a loud scoff, feeling a swell of pride as the Slytherin's green eyes flashed with panic. "I can't have a truce with an imbecile like you. You ruin everything. Not a day passes in which your idiotic actions don't urge me to give up my magic just so I can be freed of you!"

With a deep breath, Blaise tried to regain his determination instead of letting Cho annoy, frustrate, or scare him back to Draco and Hermione's chamber. As such, his composure steadied itself as he said, "Look, Cho, I'm aware I'm an idiot. I'm aware I'm never going to get everything right—and I promise you, that's not going to change. I'm physically perfect, of course; look at these cheekbones, these abs, and this amazing set of hair. I'm Merlin's gift to wizardkind. But even I know I'll never be perfect in other aspects. I'm not always going to know what to say, or how to act, and I'll probably do a lot of more stupid things when we are married, but I need you to understand that when I care about someone, I care about them with all of my heart. And despite how hard you try to make me change my mind, Cho, I care about you."

The wand pointed at Blaise shook in Cho's grip. Her brown eyes fought to hold on to her ire, but the light of the chamber exposed the glimmer of tears. "You do realize," she muttered, "you agreed that you're an idiot?"

"At least I'm very honest," said Blaise. "Well, no, I'm not. I lie excessively and frequently, but I'm being honest right now." The Ravenclaw started to frown, so before she changed her mind and cursed him, Blaise found his new maturity to say, "I'm basically trying to say that I'm going to do stupid things very frequently—in fact, I'm playing with new spells, so I might blow up our chambers or manor after Hogwarts out of sheer fun. But the point is that I love you, Cho. And I take the liberty to joke around with you, to be myself, is because I've gotten accustomed to you. I'm not trying to impress you by pretending to be someone I'm not. This charming, handsome, wild man you see in front of you is who you're getting. And I want you to care and accept me the way I care do you."

"How can you say you love me?" Cho asked, lowering her wand as those tears fell and splashed on her cheeks. "How can you say you care about me? You don't know me, Blaise. I've been so foul—"