𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦┃ 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴

tea┃blaise zabini✓

R E Q U E S T E D

❁

"For the third time this week no. That's my answer and if you're going to keep asking, I might just have to pull my wand, and curse you." You sigh, knowing you hold a tone of threat to your voice.

His eyes widen, and his frown deepens. "Vallorie, why are you always saying no? Are we not good enough?"

"No one has met my standards yet. I won't say I'm sorry either." You glance over your shoulder, noting the long line of guys behind the other.

Why? Why does this always happen to me?

You lower your head into your hands, shaking your head. "Would everyone leave? I'd like to study in damned peace."

You now feel yourself dreading the fact that the Triwizard Tournament is being hosted at Hogwarts. It's brought on a bunch of suitors, and none to your liking.

They're all pathetic and scattering for my attention.

You listen to your brother, sitting at a near table with his friends. "She's half Veela, and the entire concept frustrates her."

"Why?" One of his friends licks his lips, leaning forward on his everyword.

"The attention. She would rather not grow up with it, but you wouldn't understand." His eyes meet yours quickly, and you nod.

"That I understand, but wouldn't you be part veela as well? Where is your hoard of girls drooling after you?" His Gryffindor friend leans forward, teasing him as your brother rocks back into his seat.

"Depulso, the banishing charm. It seems to work better for me than it does for Vallorie."

You pack up your books in both arms, scowling. "I came to the library to study, not to be bombarded with questions, and invitations. I made it quite clear I wasn't accepting any of them; excuse me."

You turn back to your friends, "I'll see you later."

They all nod and mutter their agreements, and you turn to face the group that still continues to keep growing.

Naturally, your eyes come rolling, and while some jump out of the way at your request, other's jump infront of you, desperate to capture your attention.

"Vallorie! Go to the YULE BALL WITH ME!" A fourth year steps across your pathway, and you grip your bag tightly in your hands- with a scowl.

"No. The answer is no. For every single one of you, please, stop making arses out of yourselves and find someone else who will more than likely attend the ball with you. It is barmy without the silly." You shake your head, eyes narrowing.

You tuck a small strand of black hair behind your ear, stalking out the room with your head held high.

You hurry your way back to the common room, the floors growing slightly colder as you head on.

You crash into the dorms, throwing your bag on the trunk, before throwing yourself on the bed with a frustrating sigh, wondering how this situation can be avoided, or at least simmered.

Maybe professor Snape might have an idea. Many generally backed away from you when they learn the former Potions' teacher is your godfather.

Mainly, you use him to scare off those you can't, or didn't want to handle.

After thinking, you sit up, knowing that as hard as he can try, that Snape will not refuse to scare a group of students.

You undo your robe, and lay it on dark bed, smoothing out any wrinkles as you sigh.