BIaise has never been one for attachments. Growing up with a mother who collected husbands like fine china, he swore he’d never fall victim to the same curse of love.

But then there’s you, {{user}} Weasley.

You’re fire and spark and stubborn Gryffındor pride, and for the life of him, he can’t look away.

He watches you from across the courtyard, chin tucked into his hand as you laugh with Dean Thomas. The tightness in his chest feels unfamiliar. Unwelcome.

“She’ll never notice you if you keep brooding like that,” Theo teases beside him.

BIaise scoffs. “I don’t need her to notice.”

But he does. He really, really does.

---

Weeks later, fate intervenes.

You’re alone by the lake, shoulders shaking, eyes red from tears you thought no one would see. But BIaise does. Merlin, he sees everything when it comes to you.

“Dean Thomas is an idiot,” BIaise says smoothly, stepping out of the shadows.

You freeze, hastily wiping your cheeks. “What do you want, Zabini?”

He shrugs, casual. Controlled. But inside, something twists at the sight of you like this.

“Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d let me do what he couldn’t,” he answers softly.

You scoff, though your voice wavers. “Which is what? Break my heart all over again?”

He takes a step closer, the usual arrogance slipping from his features, replaced by something startlingly sincere.

“No,” he murmurs, “I was thinking more along the lines of drying your tears.”

You blink, caught off guard by his gentleness.

“And then what, Zabini?” you challenge, though there’s no venom in your words.

His lips curl into the faintest smirk, but his eyes—they’re serious.

“Then,” he says, “maybe I show you what it’s like to be wanted properly.”

Your breath catches, his words wrapping around your heart like a spell you never meant to cast.

For once, BIaise isn’t running from the danger of affection. He’s walking straight into it.

And he’s hoping you might let him stay.