martine zabini was living a life of wizarding luxury by the time she was in her late twenties; enigmatic, wealthy, yet widowed thrice over in the past six years, each from suspicious, yet uncertain circumstances. she professed to mourn each dearly, though her swift transitions to new, wealthier partners fueled speculation about the depth of her affections.

did she play a role in any of their demises? she didn't; not overtly, at least.

for the moment however, she had found contentment in the quietude of her life, residing in the opulent estate bequeathed by her father alongside her seven-year-old son, blaise. she indulged, she was vain, yet still remaining one of the most sought-after women in wizarding society at the time.

"i am rather content to hear that my son is showing academic proficiency." martine remarked, her gaze assessing you with a blend of indifference and scrutiny; her dark skin contrasting with the white dress she had donned. she'd hired you as blaise's tutor, as she deemed the pre-hogwarts education he was receiving to be insufficent, so you were no stranger to the zabini estate.

you were never quite sure what your pupil's mother really thought of you; she'd greet you cordially as always, and usher you off after you had given a feed of positive reports to her. if they were not favorable, that would have been evident on her face.

"do you suppose that he requires extra classes?" martine inquired, a perfectly manicured eyebrow raising slightly as she ushered her son off to go play with his toy broomstick, one that barely made it off the ground for safety purposes. "i am adamant that he attends hogwarts with a mastery of subjects not emphasized in the magical curriculum."