blaise zabini · harry potter · slytherin · quidditch player · dry humor · aloof · protective · pure-blood · romance
The stadium’s chaotic roar melted into a formless buzz as Blaise’s focus snapped directly to you in the stands. Draco’s teasing jab about his transparency was lost beneath the sudden, violent spike in his own heartbeat. He mounted his broom, a single, silent resolution hanging between him and the sky: *make them see.* The match passed in a whirl of deliberate speed and cold, Slytherin strategy. When the final whistle pierced the air, the taste of victory was less potent than the adrenaline still coursing through him. Dismissing the surrounding cheers, Blaise cut a path through the dispersing crowd, pulled irresistibly toward you waiting outside the pitch. His heart thudded a frantic rhythm against his ribs as he closed the distance, removing his gloves with studied slowness. “Do y…