Picking A Bride

Picking a Bride

"Oh, Narcissa, he's adorable! Look at those big, lovely eyes, and that cute little button nose! Why, he looks just like you!"

"Thank you for coming over today. I simply cannot believe it's been only a year since Draco was born. I do hope he and Blaise will be good friends when they grow older, as they are quite close in age. Blaise's birthday is next week, am I right?"

"Yes, yes, May 13^th. Draco's birthday is the 6^th?"

"Exactly. Now, I just want you to know that you and Blaise are welcome to visit us here at Malfoy Manor any time you like. We are quite happy to have you."

"And I extend an invitation to you and Draco to come visit us at the Zabini Villa in Italy. We have some lovely gardens there that I think you would enjoy seeing."

"I would love that. Oh, look! The little ones are playing so nicely together. They really are quite advanced for only being one...Draco! Stop that! You know not to throw toys like that!"

The tiny blonde boy on the floor sat back and began bawling uncontrollably as his companion, a little girl with dark locks and a mischievous smile, watched.

"Oh, I'm so sorry about that...Blaise has this tendency to bite people who irritate her a bit. You, err, might want to get Draco's hand looked at so it doesn't leave a scar."

* * *

"Madame Zabini and Miss Blaise Zabini!" As their names were announced, the little girl and her mother walked through the large double doors at the end of the receiving hall and up to where Narcissa Malfoy stood with her son, Draco. A butler walked over with great gravity to remove the wrapped present from little Blaise and place it with the gifts from the other children who were off playing happily in another room. Draco, as the birthday boy and host, found himself required to greet each guest who arrived, and found it very dull work indeed. He looked over at Blaise in suspicion as her mother pushed her forward.

"Happy birthday, Draco," Blaise murmured shyly when prodded by her mother. She clasped her hands behind her back and stared at the marble floor, a little overcome by the presence of this imposing child. Draco stood, clutching his mother's skirts with one hand as he scrutinized the other child solemnly. Something was different about this one; she didn't seem as horrid as the other children who were currently dirtying his room and leaving grubby fingerprints all over his toys.

"Draco!" his mother scolded. "Remember your manners!"

He blinked apprehensively and hurriedly approached the girl. "Thank you for coming to my birthday party, Blaise. I'm very happy that you could attend." He gave a little bow as his mother and her friends gave little ooh's and aww's above them.

Blaise curtsied properly and glanced up at him. "How old are you?"

He grinned proudly. "I'm four!" She looked downcast. "Aren't you four yet?"

"No, not until next week."

"Oh." Draco seemed disturbed by this grievance, and felt that it was his duty to make it up to her somehow. "Have you learned to read at all?"

"Yes, I have," she said, nodding emphatically. He took her hand and led her to a small office next to the receiving hall, and pushed the door open. She gasped as she looked around in awe at the dozens of owls that resided there, snowy white owls, golden eagle owls, and common brown barn owls. He grabbed a piece of parchment while she scooped up a long feather that the owls had discarded and left lying under the perches.

"I'll send you an owl when you're at home, and we can talk that way!" Draco began writing on the parchment, his handwriting that of a clumsy child. "That's my name."

Blaise looked and tried to read it. "Dra...Draco Lu...Lucius...Mal...foy," she pronounced slowly, going syllable by syllable. He clapped his hands, grinning.

"Now write yours!" She did so, and he grabbed it up to read it as soon as she had finished. "Blaise...Mor...Morgana...Zabini!"

They grinned happily at each other, comfortable in proud accomplishment, until a large screech owl hooted loudly and scared them both out of the room.

* * *

"Blaise! Blaise! Guess what I got for my birthday!" Draco yelled, running across the garden to meet her as she stepped out into the courtyard, dressed in a pretty, pale green dress. He stopped suddenly when he saw her formal and shockingly feminine attire and stared unabashedly. "You're...you're wearing one of THOSE things."

Blaise grimaced, giving the fabric a tug as if it would magically turn into a pair of trousers and a boy's shirt. "I know. My mother told me that I had to wear a dress." She spat it out as if it were a swear word.

"Wow, I haven't seen you wear one of those since I turned four." Blaise's face sunk even further, and Draco realized a bit belatedly that it might rather tactful to change the subject. He cleared his throat and patted her on the back sympathetically, suddenly recalling his mission.

"That's too bad, Blaise, but guess what Mother and Father gave me for my birthday!" He leaned in until his face was inches from hers, bursting with excitement and eyes gleaming. "They got me a broomstick!"

She gaped at him, awestruck. "Really? And you're only seven! Mother and Father said I'm not allowed to ride on a broom until I'm eight. You're so lucky!"

"Well," Draco said, looking around conspiratorially. "If we go out to the gardens, and fly behind the hedges, they won't be able to see us. You can ride with me on my broom. It's a Nimbus 1000, and it's ever so fast!"

Blaise giggled ecstatically. "All right! Let's go!" They ran through the gardens and back behind the hedges at the end of the Malfoy property. Draco grabbed his broomstick and motioned her over. She looked over it, eyes wide.

"Can...can I touch it?"

"Of course!" Draco handed the broom over to her as she ran her fingers along the polished wood in blatant worship. Draco looked on proudly, like a new parent watching over his first child.

"It's wicked cool, Draco." Blaise murmured, handing it back with a sigh.

"I was flying on it for a bit before you got here, so I can fly it pretty well already. Just sit like this," he instructed, straddling the broom. "If you sit behind me, I'll still be able to steer."

Blaise bit her lip, blushing a bit. "I can't sit like that, because, you know, I'm wearing a dress."

Draco's face fell, and he looked down at the ground. "Well, I don't want to fly without you." Suddenly, his face lit up. "I was reading a book yesterday, and it had a picture of a few ladies riding horses. They were sitting kind of sideways, as if they were sitting on a bench. Maybe you can try that. Sit in front of me, and I'll make sure you don't fall!"

Blaise agreed, and when they were settled, Draco kicked off and shakily flew them around the gardens, slowly gaining confidence until they were speeding along the hedges and through the apple orchard next to the flower beds.

* * *

"Bloody Harry Potter should die, with his stupid broom, and his stupid flying skills, and his stupid Gryffindor robes, and his stupid Gryffindor team. I can't believe we lost the game. It was for the Quidditch cup!" Draco snarled, punting a wadded bundle of robes across the room. Blaise watched his violent rampage in silence.

He sighed, sinking down on the ground and leaning on the base of the couch. "And my father was there, watching." He squeezed his eyes shut in humiliation and buried his face in his hands. "God, I've shamed him. I fell off my broom and I lost the game for Slytherin. He's going to be furious with me, absolutely furious."

Blaise sighed and sat behind him, letting him rest his head on her lap. She gently ran her fingers through his silky, fair hair, untangling the knots that had formed as the wind had whipped around him during the game. "Draco, you're a natural when it comes to flying. I've seen you at team practices; you fly like you were born to soar through the air. You're just having an off day. It's not that big a deal."

He hissed uncomfortably as she pulled out a particularly beastly knot and guiltily fiddled with the lacing on her dragon hide boots. "But I should have caught the Snitch..."

"You probably should have, but Draco, just forget about it. I got you a present, and I don't want you to be in a cruddy mood when you open it, because if you are, you won't want to use it right away, and I do." Draco's head jerked up at the mention of a present like a starving person would jump at the mention of a seven-course meal.

"I thought you might have forgotten," he murmured sheepishly. She smacked him teasingly and put on a look of mock incredulity.

"Forget my best friend's thirteenth birthday? Perish the thought! Wait here; I'll be right back!" Blaise ran off to her room, and returned with a large gift, wrapped in silver paper with a green ribbon around it. "I've written a little poem to go with it. You'll have to tell me if those oration classes that Mother made me attend have paid off. Here goes..."

She cleared her throat and read from a crumpled scrap of paper in a sing song voice.

"Draco Malfoy, my long time pal

I wish you Happy Birthday

May your hair ever stay peroxide blonde,

And not turn to grizzly grey."

He shot her his very best "condescending snob" look as he ripped the wrapping paper away, his eyes widening when he saw the long length of fabric that lay inside. "You didn't...you couldn't...there's no way you would be able to find one of these! They're rarer than dragon eggs! I can't believe you got this for me!"

Blaise shrugged nonchalantly. "It's as much for me as it is for you, birthday boy. An invisibility cloak, so we can sneak off past curfew."

"Blaise, thank you!" Draco wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly before tossing the cloak over them both and whispering, "Let's go piss off some Gryffindors!"

* * *

"Draco, wake up, wake up, wake up! It's May 6^th, you sod! It's your birthday! Get your lazy bum out of bed so we can celebrate!" Draco groaned as Blaise bounced up and down on his bed, and rolled over, trying to escape the unusually bright sunlight that was beginning to infiltrate his window.

"Blaise, go away. I feel sick," Draco moaned as a wave of nausea hit him. "Oh shit!" He threw her off and raced to the bathroom, kneeling in front of one of the toilets. She was beside him in a minute, running cool hands over his forehead and holding his long hair back from his face, whispering small comforts as his body jerked and heaved.

"Merlin, Draco, what's wrong with you? Morning sickness?" Blaise teased as he stumbled over to the sink to wash the vile taste out of his mouth.

Draco froze, eyes widening and face turning beet red. "Oh Lord. I think...last night...I think I did something..."

"Well, that was real descriptive. I totally get what you're saying when you say 'something' with that special, horrified tone in your voice," Blaise said sarcastically, handing him a cool washcloth to wipe his face with.

"No, see, because it was the day before my 16^th birthday and all, Crabbe, Goyle and I snuck out to Hogsmeade and went to the Hog's Head." Draco stared at the bathroom tiles, and Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Everything got kind of fuzzy after our fourth or fifth shot of Firewhiskey and all I remember is...is..." his voice died and he looked at Blaise, half afraid.

"Draco, what did you do?" she asked, grabbing both his shoulders and looking him straight in the eye. If he had done something to get himself locked up in Azkaban, she was never going to forgive him...

"I think- I think I had sex." He gulped noticeably, and nearly gagged again. Blaise's eyebrows threatened to disappear beneath her hairline as an amused grin spread across her face.

"Shouldn't you be insanely happy and running around bragging to everyone about how you nailed some chick while you were drunk? Here, all you can do is gag when you try to talk about it!"

He glared at her, rubbing his eyes. "Shut up, Blaise. It's just a little disorienting, all right?"

"Aww, is my ickle Drakey a real man now?" she cooed nauseatingly, rubbing his back. He groaned, splashing more water on his face. "Who was she?"

"Dunno...just someone wearing a red dress. And she had nice legs. But that's all I remember."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"How was it?"

Draco looked at his best friend with an embarrassed, yet mischievous look on his face. "Well, I don't remember much, but from what I can remember, wow. Merlin, I just remember that feeling of floating, and how it was so warm that I thought I was burning." He blushed. "It was pretty damn good."

Blaise grinned. "So, let's go celebrate. You're old, AND, you're no longer an innocent." She tossed an arm around his shoulders and led him down to the Great Hall for some breakfast. Unfortunately, Draco's face took on a greenish tinge as the strong smell of bacon and eggs wafted through the corridors.

"Oops," Blaise giggled, running after him as he sprinted for the closest bathroom. "Guess we're skipping breakfast today."

* * *

Draco Malfoy set down the letter he had been reading and slumped down in his armchair, letting out a sigh. "Well, that's it."

"If you were going for dramatic depression, you could have been a tad less vague," drawled Blaise, sprawled on his bed. Her jet black hair formed a dark cloud under her as she bounced a ball off the ceiling.

He rolled his eyes. "Thanks ever so much for your sympathy, Blaise." He rubbed his eyes tiredly and reached for his bottle of butterbeer. "No, that was a letter from my father."

"Wishing you a happy 18^th birthday?"

"I wish," he laughed bitterly. "No, just reminding me of my duty to the Malfoy family and the pureblood society as a whole. Apparently, I have to find myself a suitable wife and be ready to tie the knot and produce squeaking little Dracos by the time we graduate."

Blaise laughed, nearly dropping the ball on her head as she lost her concentration. "Oh Merlin, can you see yourself with two kids and one on the way, and a wife who has you totally whipped?"

He scowled at her, throwing a pillow at her head. "I did NOT need that disturbing mental image, thanks."

She grinned wolfishly, her eyes crinkling in mirth. "So, who's the lucky lady going to be? Oh, oh, let me guess; our dear little princess, Pansy Parkinson."

Draco grimaced as he caught the pillow she threw to him. "I suppose she's the only choice I've got. My father actually mentioned the 'long lasting alliance' between the Malfoys and the Parkinsons in his letter, but can you see me and her, like, together?" He threw the pillow back.

"You've got a point. Who else would you pick, though? Bulstrode?" Blaise grinned as she tossed the pillow to him.

"Ugh, I swear, that girl has troll blood in her." Draco cringed at the mere thought of producing heirs with the bulky girl. "Remember, I've got to have children with whoever I pick, so it's got to be someone who can keep me amused every once in a while. I doubt that Millicent Bulstrode falls into that category."

"It's quite sad how the physical attributes of the Slytherin house females has declined. Your father had his pick of lovely girls, ones that had some brains as well. Your mother, for example; beautiful, but damn clever, too."

Draco nodded, looking over at Blaise. "At this point, the best looking Slytherin has got to be Pansy. And you, of course, but...you know...we're best friends. It would be a bit creepy if I was banging you every night."

"Ah, just turn out the light, and you won't even notice." Blaise winked, teasing him. He blushed, an uncommon sight in the usually put-together boy. "Draco, you ever thought of picking someone from a different house?"

"Like who? Remember that the girl has to be a Pureblood witch."

"Susan Bones? Isn't she Pureblood?"

Draco sneered, his lip curled in disgust. "Hufflepuff."

"Alice Bradley in Ravenclaw?"

"Isn't she the younger sister of the Chaser for the house team?" Draco shook his head. "If I tried, her brother would murder me. He still hasn't forgiven me for that time that I, uh, accidentally knocked him off his broom during a game."

"How about Ginny Weasley?"

Draco keeled over, howling with laughter. "Ginny Weasley? Gods, could you picture the look on my father's face if I told him I was going to marry Ginny Weasley? Sure, she's Pureblood, but when you think about the fact that her family hates my family, my family absolutely loathes her family, and my father tried to kill her by giving her a possessed diary, I'm a little confused as to how this whole marriage thing would work."

Blaise shrugged. "It was just an idea. What about one of the Delacours, in France?"

Draco shook his head. "Fleur is with one of the Weasley brothers, and Gabrielle is betrothed to some French lord with a stick up his arse. Besides, my father says their claim to be Pureblood is questionable."

"True, but when you think about it, NONE of the pureblood families are actually pure," Blaise said thoughtfully.

"The Malfoys are!"

"Nope. Sorry to burst your bubble, kid, but your great, great, great grandmother was a veela, right?" Blaise sat back and shrugged. "She wasn't from a pureblood family, she wasn't a witch. Don't worry about it; my great uncle once removed was a Muggle."

Draco sat back, pondering this for a while, while Blaise cast a Warming Charm on the blanket she was utilizing. He looked over at her fondly, remembering all the times they had spent together. "Blaise? I wish this wasn't so hard."

She sighed and leaned back against the wall, her knees bent in front of her. "You're unappreciative. I turn eighteen in a few days, and do you know how much I would give to be in your shoes right now, to be male instead of female?"

Draco looked at her quickly. "Is this something to do with that whole monthly...thing that women are always talking about?"

She laughed. "No, you silly sod." She grinned, chuckling at the look of relief on his face. "No, it's just, it would be so much easier if I were you."

"How could it be?" Draco asked, skeptical. "I have to make this stupid choice between now and graduation."

"But at least you GET a choice, Draco!" Blaise cried, wrapping her arms around her knees. "You get to choose who you marry. Granted, it's from a small selection, but you can make a choice of your own. Me, I have to marry whoever makes an offer."

Draco bit his lip. "Still, it won't be so bad, right?"

Blaise laughed bitterly. "Are you kidding me? Look at the available people around. Goyle, who's thicker than a tree stump, Crabbe, who's probably outside screwing thestrals in the woods, and Flint, who only put off making a choice so he could screw around with half the girls at school."

"What about Theodore Nott?"

"Ted? Draco, there's a reason why he's more commonly referred to as Naughty Nott. I can't tell you all the stories about him that I've heard from his past lovers. I have no wish to become his next abuse victim, thanks."

Draco came to sit beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Blaise, I wouldn't worry about it. You're a wonderful person, and I know someone nice will give you an offer. I mean, look at you; you've got lovely eyes, you're pretty, and you're funny, intelligent, and slightly sadistic."

"One problem, Malfoy. No curves. No chest."

He looked down at her, tilting his head a little. "If your chest bothers you so much, use an engorgement charm."

Blaise gave a tight lipped smile. "No, because if I did that, I'd be at Pansy's level."

"Wait, what?" Draco asked, confused.

"What, you didn't think hers were real, did you?"

"Uhh, well, I hadn't thought about it."

"Right." Blaise obviously didn't believe him. "Look, let's forget about this for now. Actually, I smuggled something in, seeing as it's your birthday and you're old now."

She crept to the door, and opened it a crack, whispering, "Accio Firewhiskey!" A moment later, a bottle zoomed into her hand and she winked at him.

"Damn, Zabini, you got me alcohol?" Draco said, transfiguring two inkstands into shot glasses. "Thank you, Blaise. I needed this tonight."

They both knocked down a few shots and relaxed against the wall, feeling the alcohol coursing through their bodies. "You're the only girl I know who can hold her liquor."

Blaise snorted. "That's because the rest of them have thin blood. Comes from living in England for too long."

They sat in comfortable silence for a bit, drifting off into space. Draco fiddled with his glass and then glanced at a picture on his bedside table. It was of him and Blaise, arms wrapped around each other at Malfoy Manor during summer holidays. She had spent a few weeks there, and they had been out every day, flying on their broomsticks or harassing the house elves as they went about their usual tasks.

"Blaise?"

"Hmm?"

"You're my best friend, right?"

"Of course, Draco."

"Well, I kind of have this problem, and I was wondering if you'd help me out." Blaise looked up at him, worried. "See, I know this girl. I've known her since we were little squalling toddlers. We were running around in diapers together, well, we each had our own diapers, but you know what I mean."

Blaise smiled a little, but began looking a bit suspicious. "As I was saying, she's awesome. She's got this long black hair and lovely eyes, and a cute little nose that's been broken twice, making it look a bit like yours." He ran a long finger down the bridge of her nose, ducking the swipe she took at his head.

"She's intelligent, amusing, can talk crap with the guys, can keep up with me on broomstick, which we both know is no mean feat, and she's always up for doing things that no one's ever done before. Like walking on the roof of Malfoy Manor, or stealing fern seeds from the faeries, or smuggling a full bottle of Firewhiskey into the Slytherin dorms."

"Alright, I get it, this girl is great. What's the problem?" Blaise asked, blushing furiously.

"Well," Draco said, placing two fingers beneath her chin and lifting her head so he was looking into her eyes. "No matter how many times I tell her that she's amazing, this girl doesn't believe me. Apparently, she's got the worst case of crappy self-esteem on earth. I was wondering if you could tell her that I truly believe that she'll find someone nice to marry, and that I know that she's beautiful, inside and out."

Blaise's eyes filled with tears, her lips trembling as she fought to keep from crying. "I'll try, Draco."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. The scent of jasmine floated up from her, and the familiar scent calmed him, as it always did. For a few moments, he felt safe, and loved, and comfortable with her arms around his waist and her face pressed against his chest.

"I'm just so scared, Draco. I'm afraid I'll end up being tied to someone for the rest of my life, and I'll never be free."

"Blaise, listen to me. You're not going to end up in a horrible marriage. I'll watch out for you, and I'll make sure you end up with someone decent, ok?"

"But what if I don't?"

"This is getting us nowhere. Here, take Goyle, for instance. Goyle's stupid, sure, but he's a friend of yours, right?" She nodded, sniffling. "Don't cry; it makes your eyes red and puffy. Anyways, Goyle's a friend of yours, and I know he'll be all right with you riding your broom, or going shopping with friends and stuff. It'll be like you were living with me; just spending a lot of time with a friend, and maybe a few quick shags on the side."

"Now, Flint. Ah, there's a piece of work. The man has a full sized Quidditch pitch in his backyard, and he'd be more than happy to play practice games with you at home. Plus, he can get you into all the games in the area for free. And, if you think about it, he's probably good in bed, with all the practice he's getting."

"And even Nott. So he's a little rough; you seem like the type who might enjoy some of the more kinky activities, and Nott's sure to have a bunch up his sleeve. One thing for sure, you'll never have the chance to get tired of plain, ol', boring missionary style."

Blaise grimaced and looked away. "I wouldn't know."

"What?" Draco asked, teasing gently. "Blaise Zabini, not knowing how she likes it?"

"Well, no, it's not like I've had any experience."

Draco's jaw dropped. "You're a virgin?" She refused to answer. "Oh my God, Blaise, I thought you, you know. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Don't you think I would have told you if I had done the nasty with someone?" Blaise shot back, playing with a loose string from his blanket.

"Bloody hell, Blaise, you're almost eighteen and you've never been with a guy? You could have just asked me, you know I'd take care of it if you wanted me to, however weird it was." Draco said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "It's not like you haven't gotten offers, I know that much."

"Draco, you just don't get it, do you?" Blaise said angrily, getting up and stomping to the window. "The fact that I'm a virgin is basically the only thing that's giving me a chance of getting any offer of marriage."

"How so?"

"Let me put it this way. Why wouldn't you marry me?"

Draco pulled back, startled. "Because we're friends, and it would be odd, I guess."

"Notice how I'm friends with every single boy in Slytherin? No one thinks of me when choosing; I'm like a brother, not a potential wife."

"So...what about the whole virgin thing?"

"Most guys like breaking them in, as I've learned from my ever so enlightening conversations with you boys, so that creates appeal. It gives me an advantage over the other girls in that area, even if I can't measure up to Pansy with my body."

Draco sighed. There was nothing he could say to that; she was right, and they both knew it. He opened his arms to her and she fell into them, resting her head on his shoulder.

"What would your perfect husband be like?"

Blaise smiled a little. "I don't know. Someone who could just laugh with me. A friend. He would have to be intelligent, though, because he's got to be able to keep up with me. A nice sense of humor couldn't hurt, either, and he's got to be a mean hand at poker."

"What about physically?"

Blaise snuggled into his shoulder as he ran a hand along her arm. "Tall, handsome, a comfy shoulder, in case I needed a pillow, nice hands, pretty eyes, and maybe an earring. I saw Bill Weasley one time at Diagon Alley, and that dragon fang gave me tingles." She giggled a bit, and he was surprised by how feminine she sounded. "How about you?"

"Hmm? Actually, similar to your description, I guess. I mean, replace handsome with beautiful, and change comfy shoulder to cuddly body, and you've got it right on." Draco replied, closing his eyes and leaning back against the wall.

"It's getting late. I should get back to my room."

"Blaise, it's 4 in the morning. You're only going to get an hour or two of sleep before you have to wake up. Just stay here for the night." When she began to protest, Draco took her hands and looked at her beseechingly. "Please?"

She scowled, rubbing her eyes. "Fine, I'll stay here. You're lucky I put up with you, Malfoy, or you'd be in here asking Crabbe and Goyle to stay, and we both know that that would cramp your style."

He smiled and walked over to his trunk, tossing her a pair of shorts and one of his t-shirts. He lay down as she went to go change behind a screen that had been set up in the corner for her special use. He scooted over as she returned and crawled under the sheets. "Remember when we were little, and you'd come visit, and we'd sleep in the same crib?"

"Mmhmm...those were the good old days, when you and I were small enough to fit in a crib." Blaise snickered as she grabbed his hand and pulled it over to use as a pillow.

"Don't worry too much about it, love. We'll make it through this whole marriage thing, no matter what." Draco sighed and ran a hand over her hair. "I promise."

* * *

Blaise walked into the common-room not two days later, and found all of her Slytherin housemates congregated in various places in the large room. It was almost ten; usually, everyone was already in their dorms, or perhaps in someone else's dorms. Looking around, she noticed that just about everyone was out of the dorms, everyone except...Draco.

"What's going on, Crabbe?" she asked, plopping down beside him and waving a hand towards the crowded space. He grunted solemnly and shook his head.

"Draco's having a right fit," Goyle interpreted. "He's been hexing things for the last hour. I was nearly gutted with a letter opener when I tried to talk to him. I don't envy the next person to go upstairs."

Blaise stood up determinedly, rolling up her sleeves. "Draco Malfoy!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, stomping up the stairs to the boy's rooms.

When she reached the top, she saw what Goyle had been saying. Books, papers, clothes, and other knick knacks lay broken and shattered in the hallways, the doors creaking on strained hinges, and scorch marks on the walls.

She seethed angrily as she saw one of the books she had lent to Draco lying crushed outside a door, its pages slowly fluttering to the ground like dying souls. "DRACO MALFOY, STOP ACTING LIKE A SPOILED CHILD AND DESIST WITH THIS STUPID TANTRUM...NOW!"

She swept into his room and grabbed him by the shoulders before he could hex her. Shaking him like a rag doll, she continued her verbal assault until the objects that had been whipping around the room fell to the floor.

"What are you doing, you stupid git! What, in Merlin's name, got you so upset that you decided to go on a mad rampage and destroy the entire dorm? You came to school to learn to control your emotions and your magic but it's obviously not paying off, you slacker! Stop acting like a pampered prick, and calm down, or I'll break your broomstick, and I don't mean the flying one in the corner!" she shrieked, slapping him a few times in between.

When she stopped, he was sporadically clenching and unclenching his fists, his body still shaking, but at least he was no longer taking his anger out on the room. She sighed, and gently pulled him into her arms, comfortingly rubbing his back as she slowly rocked back and forth. He grasped her tightly, his embrace so tight that she could barely breathe.

"Draco, what happened?" she asked softly when it seemed that he was calmer. His body tensed up and a mirror in the corner shattered as if on cue. With an angry sigh, he broke away and stalked over to his desk. Picking up a battered and wrinkled sheet of parchment, he threw it to her and then sprawled out on his bed.

Blaise read through the short letter, pursing her lips in irritation. "Guess those Malfoy-Parkinson alliances aren't what they used to be, huh?"

He rolled over, pounding a fist into the wall. "Can you believe it? She picked some stupid Russian prince at Durmstrang over me, Draco Malfoy! Can you believe her nerve? After her father and my father send me all these hints about picking her because we've got these alliances, they have the balls to do this to me!"

"I thought you didn't like Pansy."

"I don't!"

"Then why are you so upset about her rejecting your offer?"

Draco paused. "I think...it's not that I wanted to marry her. It's more like, I spent the time and effort to convince myself to tie myself to her disgusting family, and then they blow me off like I'm worthless."

Blaise nodded. "It's not the action; it's the principle of the matter."

"Exactly." He ran a finger through his mussed hair and sighed. "It's not just Pansy, either. That's been building for a while. Every letter my father sends me, he's always mentioning how I've got to pick someone suitable, and hinting about this girl, or that girl, and it's getting stressful." He looked at her ruefully. "I'm sorry I destroyed the dorms."

Blaise shrugged. "Eh, I'm really more upset that you ripped up my Potions book. Couldn't care less about everyone else's stuff. I'm actually rather glad you destroyed Pansy's dreadful collection of porcelain animal figures. That stuff is just a giant dust collection, and it was making me sneeze every time I walked into the room."

Draco laughed, quietly at first, and then more confidently. "See, this is why I need you around, if only to make me laugh."

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed his hand and pulled him up. "Should we allow our classmates to go back to their rooms now? The entire house is currently barricading themselves in the common-room, and it's getting rather crowded."

"Want to keep them waiting for a bit longer?"

"I was hoping you'd say that. Want to go raid Baddock's room?"

"I'd love to. After you."

* * *

"So, for question 21 on the Arithmancy homework, the pivotal numbers are 7 and 13?" Draco asked as he and Blaise sat with their heads bent over a scrap of parchment.

"Exactly. 7 and 13 are the pivotal numbers, and so when you take the magical root..." she prodded.

"Then you end up with 9 and ¾. So THAT'S how they got the Platform name at King's Station," Draco laughed, leaning back and tucking his quill behind his ear. "That's it; my brain has officially shorted out. Time for 18^th-birthday-of-best-friend celebrations! Accio present."

A large wrapped package shot out of his dresser drawers and landed in his lap. He handed it over with a flourish as Blaise hugged him excitedly. She carefully began untying the knotted ribbon and undoing the wrapping paper, trying not to rip or tear anything. Draco's foot began tapping on the ground as he raised an eyebrow.

"Blaise!" he finally yelled. She looked up, startled. "Just rip the damn thing open already."

With a satisfying ripping noise, the last bit of paper fell off, revealing a soft, forest green garment. Blaise shook it out, her lips parting in awe as she stared at the long, elegant gown that she held. "Draco..."

"I know you don't like dresses, but I saw that at Gladrags a few months ago, and immediately thought of you. Just put it in the back of your closet for some other time, but make sure you wear it at least once. I, um, took the liberty of fitting it against your school robes, so it should fit pretty well."

Blaise looked up at him, stunned. "Do you know what material this is?" she asked in a hushed voice.

He smiled, opening his arms to her as she fell into a warm hug. "You're my best friend. Nothing is too good for you, even if it is imported silk from Jade silkworms in Japan. Now, go try it on."

Blaise grinned happily and ran behind the screen to change. Draco smiled a bit; that dress had cost him a small fortune to obtain, but the look on Blaise's face had been worth it. A rustle of cloth made him look over, and his breath caught.

She wasn't stunning like the Patil sisters, or even pretty, like Pansy. But, the dark green color of the material accented something in her eyes that showed how spirited, how wild, how wonderful she was. Long ribbons tied behind her neck, leaving her shoulders and back bare, and a long slit along one side allowed her a long stride without being caught in the long skirts. The dress fit her perfectly, its hem just brushing the ground. Draco gave himself a mental pat on the back for a job well done.

"So, what do you think?" Blaise asked shyly. Draco smiled gently and tilted his head, rubbing his chin as he circled her, making contemplative noises. "Draco! Stop your vulture routine!"

He ignored her protests and continued to scrutinize her, a small grin on his face. "Well," he breathed finally, "I'd have to say that it suits you perfectly, you lovely young woman."

Within seconds, her arms were flung around his neck and she was whispering her thanks in his ear as he held her close.

A soft tapping on the window made them break away, and look reproachfully at the owl that fluttered just outside. Draco rolled his eyes and lifted the latch, allowing the bird inside. It dropped a sealed letter in Blaise's lap and took off without begging for money or treats. She broke the seal and began reading.

"Daughter, I hope this letter finds you well. Today marks your passage into adulthood, and thus, you must begin to take on the responsibilities that you will carry in the future. You are 18, now, daughter, and will soon be wedded. An offer has come sooner than we expected-"Blaise looked up, horrified. Draco bit his lip and motioned for her to keep reading. "But that can only mean good news for our family. A rather well-to-do family has accepted you as a potential match for their son. The wedding is set for July, and you will wed Theodore Nott. I am given to know that he is in your House at Hogwarts. Do try to address him respectfully. Do not jeopardize this union. Signed, Alexander Zabini."

A stricken silence fell over the pair, each lost in thought, as the letter slipped from Blaise's hand and floated slowly to the ground. She stared at the wall, eyes glazed in despair as Draco played with a loose boot-string.

"Well, it won't be so bad, will it?" he finally ventured softly. She looked at him incredulously and walked over to the window, leaning on the sill as she inhaled the fresh air. Draco approached her quietly, careful not to scare her away, and was shocked to see a tear glimmering on the painted wood. It was quickly wiped away, but its presence told Draco more than anything else.

"I hate this," she said quietly, her voice hoarse. He slipped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest as he rested his chin on her hair.

"I know," he whispered. "Just let it out, Blaise, don't hold it inside."

She turned towards him and buried her head in his chest, sobbing angrily as he rubbed small comforting circles on her back, conscious of her warm skin beneath his hands. Her hands hesitantly slid down his chest, along his waist and then across his back, pulling him closer. He felt her rest her head on his shoulder, nuzzling his neck. Suddenly, he felt her kissing along his jaw line and jerked back.

"What? Blaise, what're you doing?" he asked, surprised at her touch. She shook her head and walked over to him, wrapping her slender arms around his neck.

"Please Draco, love me. Touch me. Take me. I need this," she whispered huskily, laying soft kisses along his neck. "You said you would do it if I ever asked. I'm asking now, Draco."

"No, Blaise, you don't want this." He tried to push her away, but she backed him against his bed, and he felt his knees give as he sat back quickly. She straddled his lap, pressing her lips against his harshly, licking across his lips as her hands tangled themselves in his hair.

She pulled back, whispering against his lips, "Please, Draco. Help me with this. Don't turn me away."

"I'm, I'm not," he gasped as she began to loosen his tie. "You, you, don't want this, Blaise. Why are you doing this?"

"Because I want you. Take me, Draco," she hissed as his hands unconsciously found themselves holding her hips. "If you don't-"

Something about that snapped him out of it. "If I don't, what, Blaise?" He forcibly pushed her away and stared at her, surprised to find her eyes full of tears.

A single bead of water slipped from her eyes and slowly slid down her pale cheek. "Oh God, Draco, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm only so afraid that when I have to marry him, I'll only be a bloody possession that he can rip apart whenever he wants. I'm just so scared," she cried, babbling in her distress.

"Blaise," Draco crooned, wrapped her in a brotherly hug. She clung to him like a child, weeping into his shoulder. They held each other for hours until she slipped into dreams, exhausted by the onslaught of emotions that she had felt.

Draco gently set her head on his pillow and wrapped her in a blanket, trying to forget the fire that had flooded his veins when she had kissed him. At some point, between the long broom rides at Malfoy Manor and their wicked escapades at Hogwarts, Blaise had grown up. She was still his best friend, that same little girl from years past, but now she was a woman as well. Draco found, to his surprise and amusement, that he didn't mind the combination one bit.

Shaking his head, he settled down in an armchair to gather what sleep he could.

* * *

The next day was awkward, to say the least. From the moment that she woke up, to the moment that she slunk away to her dormitory in the evening, Blaise avoided Draco like the plague. Her gaze seemed locked on a point on her shoes, and any attempts that he made to meet her eyes ended quickly.

Draco swore angrily as Blaise managed to slip away from him yet again after Transfiguration ended. He was sick of being ignored by his best friend. The damn girl just managed to disappear every time he got close enough to talk to her. All he could ever catch was a quick glimpse of her cloak as she slipped through a gap in the crowd, or the whip of her long braid as she hurried around a corner.

"Here, Draco, I just saw Zabini headed down to the dungeons," Goyle informed him as he headed down for lunch in the Great Hall. This time, Draco was ready. He nodded his thanks to the larger boy, and quickly threw his old invisibility cloak around his shoulders.

It took him less than a minute to make his way down to the dungeons, easily slipping past the other students who unknowingly passed by him in the halls. He entered the Slytherin dungeons to find Blaise curled up in an armchair by the fire. Slowly, stealthily, he crept up behind her, and suddenly pulled her under the invisibility cloak.

Blaise let out a rather loud scream, somewhat muffled by Draco's hand over her mouth. "Shh!" he hissed to her as Pansy and Millicent sauntered down the stairs to see what was going on. He kept her silent and still as Pansy shrugged and led the other girl out into the hallway.

As soon as they were gone, Draco whipped the cloak off of them and shoved Blaise back into the armchair. "That's it, Blaise. I am sick of you avoiding me. What is going on?"

Blaise flushed red and shook her head. He sighed and placed two fingers beneath her chin, gently tilting it up. "Blaise, tell me what the matter is."

"I'm sorry, Draco," Blaise muttered, biting her lip. "Just... what I did last night..."

Draco sighed and pulled her up into his arms. She fought for a moment, trying to pull away, before giving up and relaxing against his chest. "Blaise, it's not a big deal. Just forget it, okay? I already have. Nothing's changed between us; we're still best friends, and we always will be, regardless of whether or not you try to seduce me with your feminine wiles."

Blaise looked up at him, her lips pressed tight in a slight frown. "You promise, Draco?"

There was something in her eyes, something lonely, that made Draco's chest constrict. "Blaise, how can you ask that? You know how close we are; nothing is going to tear us apart. Haven't I always been there for you when you needed me?"

She sniffled and buried her face in his chest. "Of course you have."

"So I won't give up on you now. Blaise, you bit me when we were one, for Christ's sake! We've lasted through cooties, influenza, and your month long trip to Italy when we couldn't even talk to each other or send owls. You think marriage is going to screw us over? No. And you jumping me is definitely not going to light our friendship afire and burn it like tinder."

Blaise returned his grin with a weak smile and shook her head. "I don't know why I've been all emotional and pathetic recently. Gods, I'm turning into a girl."

Draco's voice was soft as he replied, "You sure are, love." He slowly stroked her hair and twirled a strand around his finger.

Blaise looked at him nervously, and he felt himself involuntarily jerk his hand back a bit before catching himself. "So, Draco, are we okay?"

"Seems I should be asking you that, Miss Queen-of-Avoiding-People," he teased her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her out of the dungeons.

"Hmm, have I told you that I'm sorry about that?"

"No."

"Oh, well, that's fine then."

Draco put on a look of mock outrage as she giggled and wormed away from him. "That's horrible rude, Blaise," he said sternly as she started to flee down the hallway. "You just watch, Zabini! I'm going to catch you if it's the last thing I do!"

It wasn't until he had reached the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, and Blaise was slapping a couple of sandwiches onto his plate, did he realize that that could have a very different meaning than he had originally thought.

* * *

Theodore Nott sat near the fire in the Slytherin dungeons, a satisfied smirk on his face. He had been a bit surprised when his father told him that his offer of marriage to the Zabini chit had been accepted; he would have thought she would have had more offers. Still, in just a few months, she would be his to take every night if he pleased, and she probably wouldn't begrudge him a few mistresses on the side. Sighing contentedly, he placed his hands behind his head as he listened to the conversations of his housemates. Not a bad deal, he thought, not a bad deal at all.

Suddenly, the common-room was cloaked in silence, every head turned to the foot of the stairs that led to the boys' dormitories. Nott looked over as well, and nodded a greeting to Draco Malfoy as he walked over to take the armchair beside his. With a flick of his wand, Draco threw up a concealing charm, making sure others did not overhear their conversation.

Nott glanced over, a bit apprehensive. The other boy was thin, almost lanky, but what he lacked in bulk, he made up for in carriage. His very presence could cast a feeling of dread over an entire room, suffocating those nearby in terror. Or, as demonstrated by a select few, Malfoy could bring a sense of security, of protection. It all depended on which side of him you managed to place yourself.

"Draco," Nott addressed him politely. Draco nodded back, seeming to be considering his words before speaking. Nott waited patiently; when a Malfoy spoke to you privately, the news was either extremely good, or extremely bad, and both of those were worth waiting for.

Draco finally sighed and leaned forward. "I suppose congratulations are in order, Nott."

Nott breathed a sigh of relief. "I assume you refer to the Zabini girl?"

The blonde boy nodded regally, scrutinizing him with narrowed eyes. "Perhaps you know that she and I are very close." Of course he knew; only a blind man would have missed it. Draco went on without waiting for an answer. "I had hoped that I might help her find a suitable young man, but you seem to have caught her up before I could do that."

Nott began to feel a bit uncomfortable. Draco did not look as if he was happy with this development. "It seems so."

"It does, doesn't it? Now, because I care for her very much, and want her to be as happy as possible, I thought I might approach you with a little proposition."

"Yes?"

Instead of replying, Draco handed him a picture. Nott took it suspiciously, and then looked down, his eyebrows rising a bit as he looked at the photograph of a lovely girl with blonde hair. She bore a slight resemblance to Draco, more in her complexion than in any facial way, but her pale blonde hair and aristocratic nose were the same. As he watched, she stood and winked at him, turning in a circle. His eyebrows raised even higher, taking in her soft curves and sensuous nature.

"She is my cousin, Lady Cassandra Alanna Lorraine Malfoy. She lives in Toulon, France, and is currently 18 years of age. She is also," Draco leaned closer, "available for marriage."

Nott looked up at him, surprised to see the dangerous glint of his eyes. "She is very beautiful."

"She's part veela. Apparently, the veela blood in females brings them increased sexuality without the more murderous facets of the full veelas." Draco paused. "Keep the picture, as a token of my good will."

"Malfoy, what is it that you want from me," Nott said, cutting to the quick. Draco grinned, his sharp teeth looking almost feral in the flickering light.

"I want you to marry my cousin, and leave Blaise Zabini to whoever else wants to have her."

Nott sighed, thinking over his options. He could either go with this plan and marry a beautiful, sexy young woman, or he could stick with Zabini and risk being murdered in his bed. The choice seemed rather clear. "I'll send a letter to my father tonight to speak to your cousin's family."

"Very good. I'll talk to you later, Nott." With a business-like nod, Draco rose from his chair and brushed invisible wrinkles from his shirt. He turned to take down the concealing charm.

"Malfoy."

"Hmm?"

"Why do you want me to do this? It can't be because you want me as a relative that badly."

Draco paused, his back still facing the other boy. "Because I want what's best for her."

"You're lying."

Nott regretted his blunt retort as Draco slowly turned back, a smirk spreading across his face. "You're right. I am." With that, the concealing charm went down, and Draco walked straight back up the stairs to the dormitories, leaving Nott in stunned silence behind him.

For a long moment, he could only stare at Malfoy's retreating back. Finally, he shook his head and returned his gaze to the moving picture, where the beautiful woman was now blowing him kisses.

* * *

It was déjà vu all over again as Draco sat in his room, head bent over a sheet of parchment, while Blaise lounged listlessly on his bed. Still, the difference was obvious, as Blaise radiated a feeling of severe depression, and Draco fiddled nervously with something in his pocket. Both seemed to be unconsciously waiting for some unknown signal.

"Draco, you've been staring at the parchment for the last hour, and I have yet to see your write anything down. Are you still awake, or has your brain shut down behind those eyes?" Blaise snapped, her tongue sharpened by her helplessness.

Draco merely looked at her in surprise. Blaise immediately regretted her harsh words, and looked away. "I'm sorry. I, I guess I'm just worried about everything. And I feel guilty for jumping you a few nights ago when I got the letter. I just wish everything was back to the way it used to be."

Draco sighed and beckoned to her, wrapping her in a tight hug when she approached him. "Blaise, I-"

He was cut off by the arrival of a large eagle owl, and then, moments later, of another owl, its feathers snowy white. Blaise seemed surprised, but took the letters from both, careful not to mix them up.

"Read the first one." Blaise looked at him strangely, but complied. A mixture of fear and relief flooded her face as she read, and then sat back, staring at the ceiling.

"Nott has withdrawn his offer," she whispered after a few minutes of torturous silence. Draco nodded and pulled a small box out of his pocket, turning it over in his hands before looking back at her. Blaise sat silently, shell shocked by the new developments, and utterly torn between happiness at the escape of her horrific engagement, and apprehension about her future.

"I asked him to withdraw it."

Blaise blinked and looked over to her best friend, who was currently looking at something hidden in his large hands. "You did what?"

"I asked him to withdraw it."

"Draco!" Blaise looked at him in helpless frustration. "How could you, Draco? He's my only choice, don't you understand that? I'll be disowned, shunned, gossiped about behind my back! How could you do this to me, Draco?" Her voice lowered to a quavering whimper. "I thought you were my best friend, but now everything feels different. I don't even know you anymore."

He squeezed his eyes shut at her pained whisper. "Open the second one." Blaise began to protest but he cut her off. "Just open it, Blaise. For me."

"Draco..." Blaise started to shake her head, ready to throw the letter down at Draco's betrayal. This was her future, and he just had to step in and get involved. If she had accepted it, why couldn't he?

Draco stood, taking her hand in his, looking down. "Blaise, for the love of God, just open it."

Blaise sighed and ripped the letter open, yanking the note out and scanning it. She blinked once, and then reread it. Her lips parted slightly, eyes widening in surprise. "You didn't."

Draco knelt down in front of her, offering her the small box he had been toying with. As she looked down, he slowly opened it, revealing a lovely ring, a gold band inlayed with a diamond bracketed by two emeralds. "You're my best friend. Why should I go marry some unknown girl when I could be perfectly happy with you?"

"But you can't. I'm not good enough..." Blaise whispered as he slipped the ring on her finger.

Draco snorted. "You're pureblood, and you're pretty. That's just about the only requirement."

"But... but..."

Draco looked at her skeptically. "You do know that you have no choice. You ARE going to marry me, whether you like it or not. And I, for one, am quite happy about it."

Blaise grinned, biting her lip as he stood up. "So, I don't have to marry Nott? You're serious about this? You're really going to tie yourself down with me?"

Draco nodded, a gentle smile spreading across his face as he drew her close. "Anything for my... my best friend." He paused, something about that phrase, best friend, felt so unsatisfying. It wasn't enough, not fully encompassing of their relationship. He shrugged it off and looked her in the eyes. "Are you all right with this?"

Blaise nodded, throwing her arms around his neck happily. "Of course! Gods, I can't believe-- you're just so amazing!"

Draco smirked, preening a bit. "Aren't I?"

Blaise just giggled and smacked him on the arm. "I'm going to marry a Malfoy. Oh Gods, I'm going to be related to your father. You know he's absolutely terrifying, right?"

"I'll have to tell him that. He'll be awfully proud of himself." Draco smiled. "Don't worry; my mum and Father both love you. You know that." With a smile, Draco pulled her into a warm embrace, resting his chin on her head. Once again, that scent of jasmine drifted up, and he relaxed against her, their bodies melding together so that they seemed like one single, unbreakable entity.

"Draco? I think I'm going to like this." Blaise murmured softly.

Draco nodded. "This should work out plenty well. I mean, my only qualm was always that the whole deal with making heirs might be a little uncomfortable."

Blaise started. "What's that about heirs?"

Draco shrugged. "We'll just turn out the light."

Suddenly blushing red, Blaise rose up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his, enjoying the slight spark that coursed through her body and made her shiver in joy. When she pulled away, Draco raised an eyebrow in surprise, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Well," Draco muttered, licking his lips. Blaise looked at him, a little apprehensive as she took in the shell-shocked look on his face. Finally, he flashed a smirk and drawled, "Maybe we'll leave that light on."

-Fin-