Lexi Layyer my only weakness*hp fanfic*

unimaginable friends

Blaise kept his promise; he did come the next day. Just after I woke up I heard the faint tapping of someone knocking at my door; the next moment there he was, grinning at me. The sight was so funny I had to smile, despite everything.

“It’s weird, I didn’t think the image of you smiling at me was something I’d ever experience,” I told him. “…Or you just smiling in general, to be honest.”

“Oh, life and its unpredictability,” he chuckled, before revealing his hands from behind the door, which were holding another tray full of food, just like yesterday. “Breakfast?”

We sat down on the bed just as we had the evening before and we talked until I’d eaten every last mouthful. I couldn’t tell if he stayed that long just because he enjoyed my company, or because he wanted to make sure I was eating. I decided it was a bit of both.

He left soon afterwards but returned with a tray only a couple of hours later for lunch. By dinner, he turned up with not just one tray, but two.

“What’s the second one for?” I cocked my head at him. “- …Don’t get me wrong, I love my food, but…”

“It’s for me, idiot,” he snickered, and from then on it was settled. Every meal, he’d bring up a tray for me and a tray for him, and we’d eat together.

We’d talk, too. We’d gossip as if we were still at school and who was dating who actually mattered and we’d laugh until we cried and we’d debate over life’s meaning and our plans for the future, as if we might actually have one.

“Funny, isn’t it,” I murmured the next morning over toast. “How you can ignore someone for five years just because your paths don’t naturally cross… how one of the best friends you’ve ever had might be right under your nose.”

Neither of us questioned the ‘best friends’ thing because we both knew it was true. Sure, we’d been talking for two days, but we understood each other better than we’d ever really understood anyone.

“Imagine spending the past five years with you!” exclaimed Blaise, eyes clouded over with the wistful imaginings of what could never be. “All that time I could have spent with you instead of those half-a-brain-for-the-price-of-two morons Crabbe and Goyle.”

By the fourth day, my friendship with Blaise was much more precious to me than other friendships that had taken me years to carefully construct. Despite everything, we were so similar. We shared not only the haunting pain of a fatherless childhood but the same attitude towards the unbearable truth – pretending it didn’t exist at all.

Under such circumstances, that was all we needed – self-pity, and that need to escape. The fact we seemed to have such chemistry was just an added bonus.

“Okay, so. Favourite colour,” I shoot at him, on the fifth day. We’ve wandered out of my room and settled in one of the Malfoys’ libraries for no reason other than because we could.

Blaise’s answer is immediate. “Green, obviously.” He grins. “Go on, next question.”

I scowl. “I hate green.”

“You hate Slytherin,” he corrects me. “It’s different.”

I eye the lavish furnishings around me and shudder. “Not so much Slytherin as Malfoy Manor,” I contemplate. “…I hate the Manor.”

“I hate you,” he retorts.

I stick my tongue out at him and we both smirk at each other. “Well you’re weird,” I tell him.

“…And that was the shittiest comeback ever,” he guffaws. “Seriously? ‘You’re weird’? How old are you?”

“Old enough to know spells that could seriously harm you if you provoke me,” I say warningly, eyes narrowed, but I can’t hide my smile.