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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: dinner & diatribes — hozier
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( 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 , 𝟏𝟔 )
Meredith didn't even question it when she saw Blaise descend the stairs from the boy's dormitory in his finest clothing of black silk and lapels. She had learned over the course of the past year that Blaise Zabini never did anything but the utmost.
"I can't tell if you're dressing for the funeral of your wealthy grandmother about to pass down her entire inheritance to you or you're here to collect my soul to add it to your collection of the damned." Meredith commented as he finally reached the foot of the staircase, looping her arm around his ( she could finally reach his elbow with the heels she was wearing ). He cracked a smile, feeling the silky green of her bell sleeves chafing the crook of his elbows, "You don't look so bad yourself, Darling."
"What a charmer." She mocked in response as they strode out of the Slytherin common room, turning the heads of a group of jealous students who hadn't been specially chosen for the Slug Club ( Meredith personally thought that it was an awful name but she conceded joining on the basis that many of the alumni had become highly successful with the connections formed through it ).
