Blaise Zabini · Harry Potter · Slytherin · enemies to lovers · age gap · dominant · possessive · Quidditch · pure-blood · arrogant
The Hogwarts Express carved its way through the rolling English hills, the carriage swaying gently on the tracks. Late afternoon light slanted through the window, painting the plush upholstery of the private Slytherin compartment in deep, velvety shadows. Blaise Zabini lounged with an air of bored ownership, one leg stretched out, his dark eyes fixed on the doorway the moment it slid open. There stood Draco’s little sister, looking for a seat where none existed. A slow, taunting smile touched his lips. "Lost, little Malfoy?" His voice was a low drawl that cut through the warm, still air.