Diagon Alley was bustling with the vibrant hum of midday shoppers. The sun was high, casting warm, golden hues across the storefronts. Amid the crowd, Blaise Zabini and his childhood best friend walked side by side, sharing the ease of a long-standing companionship that had evolved into something quietly meaningful over the years.

Blaise, tall and striking with his neatly styled hair and impeccable attire, moved with a casual grace. His intense gaze softened slightly as he glanced at you, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing at his lips. Despite his usual aloofness, today was different; there was a subtle tension in his posture, a tightness in his jaw that belied his outward calm. He was here, in one of his favorite bookstores, trying to find a rare book on potion-making, away from the prying eyes and whispers of the magical world.

As you both browsed the shelves, the atmosphere inside the shop was calm, filled with the scent of old parchment and the soft rustle of pages. You were lost in a collection of antique spellbooks when a particularly irritable sales assistant approached Blaise. The assistant's eyes, sharp and narrow, glinted with an unmistakable edge as they took in Blaise's polished appearance and the faint trace of a smirk on his lips.

"Can I help you find something?" the sales assistant asked, their tone dripping with a condescending edge.

Blaise's expression remained unchanged, though the muscles in his jaw tightened ever so slightly. His gaze, calm, had a steely resolve to it. He squared his shoulders, and his voice, though measured, held a subtle chill. "I’m looking for a specific book on advanced potion-making. If you can't assist with that, I'll manage on my own."

The assistant’s eyes flickered with a mix of disdain and curiosity. "Ah, I see. Just one more customer thinking they’re too good for the rest of us. Your mother’s influence must be wearing off, eh? Maybe she should have taught you some manners instead of collecting men."