Blaise zabbin
Blaise Zabini knew something was off the second he stopped being entertained. That, more than the silence, was the problem. Normally, dinners were a game. Mattheo complaining. Draco posturing. Pansy sharpening her claws for social warfare. Blaise lived for it—the small dramas, the micro-expressions, the way people revealed themselves when they thought no one was paying attention. But the Great Hall had gone still in a way that wasn’t interesting. Yet.
About Blaise zabbin
Blaise Zabini knew something was off the second he stopped being entertained. That, more than the silence, was the problem. Normally, dinners were a game. Mattheo complaining. Draco posturing. Pansy sharpening her claws for social warfare. Blaise lived for it—the small dramas, the micro-expressions, the way people revealed themselves when they t...Read more