Happy belated Valentines (or galentines) day! 

Here's this year's present; equally infuriating and handsome Blaise ~ 

I hope you enjoy this unedited mess featuring the officical middle Selman sister 

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Mornings were always the part of the day I disliked the most. I would wager my left hand that almost every Selman sister - except for Euta, the weirdo - disliked mornings. But I didn't think any of them hated mornings the way I did. Especially on the mornings when I struggled to tame the unruly curls I had been cursed with. It wasn't fair that Dorothea had only handed her curls down to me, and now I was forced to spend absolutely ridiculous amounts of time trying to tame them.

After changing into my school uniform for the day, I sat on the edge of my bed, trying and failing to get my hair to look even remotely presentable. Despite having spent 10 minutes working on it, my hair showed no signs of complying. When my arms began to ache, I let out a defeated sigh and threw my hairbrush onto the mattress.

"Salazar's soul," I swore, contemplating reaching for the bottle of Sleekeazy tucked away in my drawer. I suppressed the urge.

"Come on," Millicent said, as she looped her tie around her neck. She met my eyes through the mirror as she reassured me. "It doesn't look that bad."

"Oh please, Bulstrode," I said, rolling my eyes. Picking up my hairbrush, I pointed it warningly in her direction, "You are the most horrendous liar. Never gamble."

"Yeah, Bulstrode." It was Daphne who teased this time. She glanced up from where she was kneeling, crouched in front of her trunk and paused her search for her tights. Daphne's eyes flickered meaningfully in my direction, "Leave her alone, she's just trying to make sure that she looks good for Zabini."

Pansy glanced warily between Daphne and me, looking very much like she was contemplating becoming a human barrier. After all, she'd more than once witnessed my spats with Rania dissolving into hair-pulling matches that forced Cali - and Clio, of all people - to intervene. Tightening my hold on my brush, I ran it through my hair again with more force than necessary.

Instead of rising to the bait, I gave an annoyed sigh, "You know that's not the case."

"It's absolutely the case," Daphne insisted, her words twisting the annoying arrow that had pierced my heart from the moment I'd laid eyes on the arrogant Italian so many years ago. "You've had a crush on him forever. It's a good thing the pair of you are betrothed."

We were betrothed, and we had been for several years now. But what did it matter if our entire relationship - if the withering fragments of interactions we shared could be quantified as a relationship of any sort - consisted of very onsided attraction and feelings from my part? My eyes always searched the room for Blaise, and I was always the one whose first instinct was to chase after him, whilst he couldn't have cared less. As if I had no pride. Salazar, I could only thank Pansy for the very frank conversation she'd had with me in third year, telling me to get a grip of myself and stop acting like a lovesick Hufflepuff. At least I'd learnt some composure since then, even if that composure needed to be kept on a tight leash that always wanted to run away whenever Blaise's eyes lingered for a moment longer than normal.

"Leave it, Greengrass," Pansy warned, making her way to my side. She held out a hand for the hairbrush as if she would be any better at taming it. I'd long since learnt that my hair only really obeyed Thalia and Rania, which was unfair on so many levels.

"That's alright Pans." Sighing, I set the hairbrush aside and resigned myself to looking like a mess. Keeping a hair tie on my wrist for standby, I said needlessly, "You know my hair is annoying first thing in the morning."

"Well, why don't you use some Sleekeazy's?" Millie asked once she was finally done wrangling her tie. After all of these years of wearing a tie for 5 days a week, she still struggled with it. It was endearing in a way that only Millicent was.

"Because I need to give it a rest now and then or else the curl pattern will be ruined." Millie and Pansy shared a look, one that told me they had no idea what I was talking about. Not that I expected them to when their hair was pin-straight; they certainly didn't appreciate how low maintenance their hair was.

"It's as good as it's going to get. Is everyone ready to go?"

Tracey, always the last to be ready, was still in bed by the time we walked out of the dorms. She'd follow along shortly and meet us in the common room. As we made it into the larger room, I made a swift detour for the only empty sofa and tried my best to keep my attention solely focused on my friends. It was a useless effort.

Despite my ardent attempts, my eyes flickered the common room and sought out Blaise, who flanked Malfoy with Nott. My three housemates were speaking amongst themselves, too far away for there to be any hope in my comprehending what they were talking about. Not that I wanted to. Not that I would be able to do anything beyond casting an appreciative look over Blaise who only ever seemed to be increasingly handsome with each passing day. It was incredibly unfair. And it was incredibly unfair for my heart to remain so earnestly attached to someone who at best disregarded me.

As if feeling the weight of my eyes on him, Blaise's gaze found mine. Not that he had ever needed to look far. He was unsurprised at my attention; I rather thought he was used to it now. Still, one corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk he made no attempts to hide as he murmured something to my future brothers-in-law. Malfoy and Nott followed his gaze, and sitting under the combined gaze of all three, I flushed and averted my eyes. Before doing so, I swore Malfoy and Nott had nodded their acknowledgements and the arrogant bastard had chuckled slightly. Salazar's soul, his rejection always smarted.

Thalia and Rania spared me from my silent lamentations, as they crossed the common room to stand in front of me. After greeting my friends, my younger sisters grasped me by the hands and I let them escort me from my friends so they could corral me into the corner of the room. Standing still, I let the pair of them work their magic on my hair as they tamed it into a long braid. I resolutely locked my eyes onto the rug under my feet, I refused to feed the yawning ache inside my heart which would only ease after another stolen glance at Blaise. The desire battled with my pride, as it always did, but today my pride would win. That I promised myself. My pride needed to win out more often.

**********

I wasn't sure if starting the day with a double helping of Professor Slughorn was a good thing or a bad thing. Of course, he didn't elicit the same or even a similar level of dread before every Potions class as Snape had, but there was something to be said about his sycophantic tendencies being a tad too much first thing. It was a hard pill to swallow on a stomach that had only been lined with coffee. Still, he was a more than competent teacher and if I had the opportunity to choose between Snape and Slughorn, I would choose Slughorn each time. Even if the subject now took more effort than I appreciated, and not because of the subject matter.

Walking into the Potion's lab, I took my usual seat and waited for Daphne and Pansy to join me. As I settled down, I forced myself to keep all of my attention on retrieving my belongings and putting them on the table, as if it were the most engrossing thing and certainly not things I saw daily. I absolutely didn't want to even accidentally glance in the direction of the table on my left, which was always occupied by Malfoy, Nott and of course, Zabini. If Zabini even so much as thought I was looking his way, his ego would only inflate even further and I would be left cursing at my inability to get a handle on myself. Salazar's soul, managing my every reaction and regulating my every move was exhausting. How did people do this?

Thankfully, Professor Slughorn started his lesson and forcefully drew all of my attention to him. It was a welcome change of pace.

Coming to the end of his theoretical introduction, Professor Slughorn turned to the chalkboard and wrote down the name of the potion we were supposed to brew. Underlining the name and writing the page number beside it, Professor Slughorn returned to his seat behind his desk. Turning to the right page, I made quick work of jotting down the ingredients on a piece of parchment.

Daphne, as irritating as always, addressed me as I pushed away from the desk. "Be an absolute sweetheart and bring my ingredients as well, Selman."

I shot her a look, narrowing my eyes when she teasingly batted the feather of her quill in my direction. Daphne had a talent; despite having so many sisters, she was the only girl in my life who aggravated me like this. And that was saying something when someone like Rania existed.

"Get your ingredients for yourself, Greengrass." When Daphne leaned over the desk to 'borrow' my list of ingredients, I held the parchment out of her reach.

"So selfish," she teased, leaning back and settling in her seat with a smile.

Rolling my eyes for her to see, I turned my attention back to my discarded list. Picking up my quill, I tucked it into my pocket so I could check each of the ingredients off -

"If I asked you, you'd do it." The statement, framed so confidently like it was a fact, had me stilling instantly in my seat. Despite knowing better, I turned my head to look at Blaise who sat a short distance away, propping his chin on his palm as he regarded me. He had the absolute nerve to look almost bored as he continued to speak, pulling at the tightly wound strings that held my resolve together in the way only he knew how. "Wouldn't you, Selman?"

"Blaise," Pansy chided softly from behind me. She reached a hand out, setting it on top of my casting arm. In any other situation, I would've been offended at how little control she thought I had, but at that moment, the contact was grounding.

Blaise didn't so much as glance towards Pansy. His eyes kept their steady gaze, locked insistently onto mine and refused to let me go. He'd always had the most infuriating knack of keeping me captivated and the worst part was that it seemed to be so effortless for him.

"Well?" his prompt was deceptively soft. "It makes sense that you'd do anything to impress your future husband."

I stilled, spine stiffening as I tried not to glare. He had no right, absolutely no right to be weaponising the relationship we shared, or to make me remember the things I used to do to want to impress him, to appeal to him. In my naive childish brain, I tried so many different avenues, different strategies to want him to see me as worthy, as loveable and yet -

It didn't matter what he'd thought. I had my pride - Selman pride in all its mountainous entirety - and I wouldn't let it be disrespected in any way. Not when it was linked so closely to my sisters, not when Calliope had worked so hard to forge it despite all of Father's sins. Blaise could trample on my pride - in my younger years I would accept it, now I tolerated it - but no one would be allowed to do the same with my sisters' pride.

"Blaise," Nott, ever reserved, surprisingly cut in harshly. Only then did Blaise look away, astonished at the unexpected interruption as he turned to look at his friend. "That's a low blow."

"Hardly," Blaise persisted, furrowing his eyebrows as if he didn't understand Nott.

"You should take the hint," I cut in, flinty fighting the urge to glare daggers into the back of his head. "No one likes an arsehole."

Scoffing quietly, Blaise turned to address me again. His eyes easily found mine as he demanded, "No?"

There was no use in denying it. How could I when he would only call me out on lying? By contesting his words, I would only invite further speculation and I certainly didn't want that, not when it opened up so many avenues for him to hurt me further. Holding my silence was the other option, but he was enjoying it far too much.

When it looked like Blaise would speak again, this time Malfoy was the one to intervene. He levelled Blaise a firm look and insisted meaningfully. "Stop."

Started slightly, Blaise looked away from me again. Rendered silent by the interaction, I looked between the three friends, trying to read what was being shared between in their glances. The three friends exchanged their silent conversation, completely unreadable to anyone outside of their group, and I certainly tried my best to decipher it. My betrothed and my two future brothers-in-law said nothing else, and their exchange ended when Blaise, facing the joint scrutiny of two pairs of insistent eyes, ducked his head to look at his notes. I silently stored the knowledge; Blaise Zabini's ego was no match when it collided against the combined force of Malfoy's and Nott's.

I took that as my cue to continue with my lesson. Standing from my seat, I headed towards the ingredients table at the back of the classroom. On my way, as I walked past their table, I shot thankful looks towards Nott and Malfoy. I already knew that when I wrote to Polly to recount my day, she would make sure to write to Psi and Thalia, lauding the heroic antics of their betrotheds. Mine on the other hand ... well, understandably Polly wasn't the fondest of Blaise.

Dismissing the thought quickly, I set about gathering the ingredients I needed. Searching the table for the vial of Octopus powder, I found it tucked away behind the Newt's spleen. Reaching for it, I was startled when my hand collided with one of my classmates.

"Sorry," I said instantly, looking up sharply with an apologetic smile, I glanced straight into smiling blue eyes.

"No worries," Macmillan said, drawing his hand back sharply towards him. The Hufflepuff raised them in surrender before gesturing to the vial. "Ladies first, Selman."

**********

Potions was slowly becoming a chore, and yet, it was rapidly becoming my least favourite lesson. Perhaps it had something to do with the increased workload or the complexity of the potions we were studying. Or perhaps, it was because of my forced proximity with Blaise. The stubborn Slytherin refused to feel the same level of awkwardness that I felt, sitting ever studious and ever irritating, at his desk as he made meticulous notes throughout. He spent most of the lesson ignoring my existence, clearly not sharing the same urge I had to steal glances.

Certainly, Blaise wasn't spending copious amounts of effort pointedly not looking in my direction, like I was for him. Only, Blaise did look at me occasionally throughout the lesson, usually after another smarting comment, that only served to remind me why I was avoiding paying attention to him. It would've been so much better for him to not even bother. Why was my betrothed the one that wanted nothing to do with me? Sure, Malfoy and Psi were involved in more ego clashes than made sense and Nott was well ... complicated, but there were the beginnings of something there, even a friendship. But how had I been paired with the most aggravating of the trio? Father had royally fucked me over.

I abruptly ended the thoughts - yet again finding myself lost in my thoughts about Blaise, about what this mess of a situation could mean for my future which was looking bleak. And I absolutely couldn't let myself follow the thoughts into whatever spiral they formed. Tightening my grasp on my quill, I reorientated my focus to my sentence which had ended abruptly. Leaning closer to Pansy, I took a quick peek at what I'd missed and hurried jotted it down. Realising what I was doing, Pansy angled her parchment towards me, rolling her eyes when I offered her a thankful smile.

"Tall, dark and antagonising?" Pansy asked under her breath, shooting a pointed look in Blaise's direction.

"No." I knew better than to look right at Pansy when I lied. Instead, I kept my eyes fixed on my parchment. "Just lamenting on the trainwreck that'll be my future."

"As if your eldest sister would let your life become a trainwreck," Pansy scoffed, repeating the sound when I grinned to affirm her statement. "She's a meddler, that one. A bit of a control freak, too."

"That's my mum you're talking about," I chided, paying no heed to the incredulous way Pansy rolled her eyes. I didn't expect her to understand.

"That's fucked." I didn't disagree.

Instead, my eyes shifted back to Professor Slughorn when he pointedly clapped his hands. Setting my quill down, I joined my classmates in turning my attention onto our professor who looked far too enthusiastic. Usually, when Slughorn smiled that way, it only meant one thing. Sighing to myself, I started to gather my belongings when, just like I knew he would, he instructed us all to pair off.

"Things are appearing to stagnate and it's time we breathe a new lease of life into this classroom," he declared, rounding his desk. "Everyone finds partners who are not your deskmates, let us foster unity."

"Foster unity," Daphne grumbled under her breath as she stood and left the desk to find a partner.

I lingered reluctantly at my desk, even when Pansy left me to track down one of the least annoying Ravenclaws. My feet, feeling like they were lined with lead, hesitantly settled on the floor as I stood up as well. Looking around the room, I sought out a partner, wanting to pick the best of a bad bunch. But of course, this would be the moment when Blaise's eyes settled resoundly on me. He remained seated like the arrogant bastard that he was, his tilted head propped on a closed fist. Wordlessly, he nodded to the empty seat at his side.

The lead lining my feet thickened, strengthened by my pride. Like hell. I refused to damn myself like that. Instead, I pointedly turned my eyes away from him, continuing my perusal to find the yellow and black robed student who strode towards me. Macmillan, meeting my waiting eyes, adjusted the bag on his shoulder and offered me a smile.

"Selman," Macmillan greeted easily, as he closed the remaining space between us. He set his bag down on the desk. "Potions partners?""

"Are you any good?" I asked dubiously, sitting down again.

"The best in my house," he promised, raising a hand to his chest.

"That's hardly an achievement."

He gave a dramatic wince, "That hurts my feelings, Selman."

"Your feelings are going to have to become a lot less sensitive if we're potions partners, Macmillan," I warned.

"I'll try my best," he promised with that warm grin that I was beginning to realise came so easily to him. "Let me make a good impression and get the ingredients, yeah?"

Before I could protest or even get partway through an offer to go instead, Macmillan had already left my side. My eyes followed him towards the desk at the back of the room -

"Erato," the call of my full first name, had my spine straightening out in surprise. The name, so unexpected in its full form, had me shifting in my chair so I could face the boy who'd said it.

Blaise remained in his seat, drumming his fingers nonchalantly against the wooden desk. To most people, his pretence of aloofness would've been undetectable. But then again, very few people knew him so well.

"What?" I prompted when he held his silence. He didn't even do the courtesy of looking at me.

His dark eyes were fixed at the back of the classroom. Slowly, he remarked, "He's a bit of a downgrade, don't you think?"

Following his gaze, I watched as Macmillan, with his back towards us, sifted through the potion's ingredients. Frowning, I warned him, "Stop it, Macmillan is nice."

"He's nice, is he?" Blaise asked pointedly. He turned his head to meet and hold my gaze. His eyes, the same spiteful beauties they had always been, narrowed ever so slightly. "If you have to settle for nice to pander to your ego, just be sure to let him down easy when you rediscover your standards."

I tried my best to hide it, to stop my instinctive reaction of turning away from him, of showing him so obviously how he had hurt me. But perhaps I'd failed because as Blaise's eyes searched my face, I swore that they softened with regret. Only I knew better; when it came to him, I always saw something that wasn't there, I saw the things I wanted to see. Salazar's soul, I refused to give him the satisfaction of responding.

Pointedly averting my focus from Blaise, I made a show of consulting my parchment full of notes. Picking up my quill, I made nonsensical scribbles that from afar must have resembled words. All the while, I kept my attention firmly on my pretence, and certainly not on the heavy gaze that was burning a hole into the side of my face. I didn't want to see the mirage of regret again.

"Erato," he said again, softer this time in that tone that tugged at the red string that connected my heart to his. When I uncharacteristically didn't respond, he spoke again, only it sounded more like a question, "Era?"

I refused to acknowledge him. He had no right to sound even a little hurt. Not when he didn't seem to bat an eyelid when hurting me.

**********

With the arrival of the first Hogsmeade trip of the year, there was only one thing on my mind. My friends were busy planning their trip, trying to decide the best order to navigate through the small town but I didn't pay them any attention. Instead, my eyes were too busy searching the street, looking for any glimpse of my sisters in amongst the crowd. Surprisingly, there was none. In almost every moment spent within the castle, one of my multiple sisters was in the area, yet I was in the rare occurrence of not seeing a single one when I was actually looking for my sisters.

"Are you coming?" Pansy asked, gesturing towards Honeydukes.

"Go ahead without me," I said, tucking my cold hands into my coat pockets. Burrowing my nose in my scarf, I assured them, "I'll find you later."

Waving them away, I watched the small group depart before turning on my heels and approaching the tea shop with quick steps. Ducking my head down slightly to avoid the wind, I reached the front door and pushed it open. Searching the crowded room, my eyes settled on the largest table; ours by default. Sure enough, Cali was already there, waiting for me with Polly at her side. My youngest sister, always so entranced by magic that despite being her birthright she had never been graced with, paused her fascinated perusal of the room and instead waved enthusiastically at me. I smiled widely at the sight, hurrying to their side and letting Polly's infectious joy overwhelm me.

Stepping out of the booth, Polly wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace and burrowed herself as close to me as possible. Laughing slightly, I teased, "Are you trying to dig yourself into me, Pol?"

"No," her answer was stifled in my clothes. "I missed you."

"Oh Pol, I missed you too," I assured her softly.

Polly drew away far enough to lift her head. She smiled up at me before reluctantly withdrawing from me. My attention shifted then, to the woman standing behind Polly, watching the pair of us with a warm smile. This time I was the one to throw myself into the waiting arms of my older sister, I was the one to burrow my face into the crook of Cali's neck. It was an awkward fit, especially since I was a little taller than Cali, but it didn't matter.

"Everything okay?" Cali asked quietly, holding onto me just as long as I held her. I couldn't remember a single time where she had ended the hug first.

Nodding against her shoulder, I forced myself to straighten up. Even when Cali watched me with searching eyes, I evaded her gaze. Moving around her, I removed my coat and scarf, draping them over the seat and sat down. Uncertainty, I fidgeted with the wood grain of the table surface.

"Polly," Cali said quietly, pressing a soft hand to our youngest sister's arm. "Do you want to go and get us some menus?"

For a moment, it looked like Polly would turn bratty, the way she did when she felt like we were keeping secrets from her. But she didn't. She looked briefly in my direction and her eyes, always far too expressive for her age, scanned me briefly. Nodding shortly, Polly headed off in search of the elusive menus. Sliding into the booth, Calliope sat directly across from me. Wordlessly, she reached out and took hold of my hands, halting my fidgeting. My eyes lingered on Calliope's bitten nails and the skin that had become sore from her incessant picking. Pansy had been right, this was fucked.

Still, I lifted my eyes and found her patiently waiting gaze. Linking our fingers together, I squeezed them softly.

"I thought you were going to start meditation?" I asked pointedly.

"I'll do that with all the spare time I have," Calliope said dryly. "Now come on, tell me what's going on. You asked to see me because you had something you wanted to talk about and I don't know how long we've got until Polly comes back."

I hesitated, wondering where to start, or even how to start. But Cali did have a point. It was only a matter of time before we found ourselves surrounded by our sisters and I didn't need to be so many curious ears. Slowly, I said, "I overheard you and Clio talking - is it true that you can petition to end the betrothal?"

"Is something wrong?" Cali asked, her eyes narrowing as she watched me in that unsettlingly perceptive way she had. "I thought you liked Blaise?"

I did like him, and that was the problem. I liked Blaise, I was fairly certain that I loved him and had loved him for as long as I could remember. Salazar's soul, it was naive to think it, but I didn't think I would love someone else as much as I loved him. How could any other love compare to the all-encompassing, consuming nature of my first love? Which in itself was a terrifying thought.

But that mattered little when Blaise didn't so much as like me. He barely managed to tolerate my presence and even I, with my rose-tinted glasses, could admit that he was an arrogant twat. I wouldn't put it past him to find amusement in my flounderings. Not that I would ever allow myself to admit that to Calliope.

Instead, I simply said, "There's nothing wrong."

"Are you sure?" Calliope asked dubiously. Holding firm to my decision, I locked my eyes onto hers and nodded once. This cycle needed to end at some point. Sighing slightly, Calliope squeezed my hand reassuringly. "Alright, here's what we can do; as the head of the household I'll write to Mrs Zabini and start the process for you."

My stomach rolled at the declaration, nausea creeping up my throat. It was what I wanted, but my body was screaming out against it. Swallowing harshly, I said a quiet, "Thanks."

"Nothing to thank me for," Cali assured me distractedly, no doubt thinking of how she would begin addressing the infamous Mrs Zabini.

"Do you think they'll let us end it?"

"Well, I absolutely won't let them force you into something." Withdrawing her hands from mine, Cali turned her head to watch Polly come within earshot, a stack of menus cradled in her arms. Under her breath, and far too quiet for our youngest sister to hear, she reassured me, "Leave it with me."

The discussion thankfully ended there, with the arrival of our youngest sister. Polly settled into the booth, taking her seat beside Cali. She passed around the menus and started her perusal. She searched the menu for a short time. Polly was almost instantly distracted by the arrival of the rest of our school-aged sisters being corralled in one direction by Clio and Mellie. The booth very quickly became hectic as we crowded together, but I wouldn't have it any other way. What did people without sisters do?

**********

Slytherin house was made up of a majority of only children, and perhaps that was why so many of them struggled to understand why I spent so much time with my sisters, or even why there were moments when we were the only company we needed. Not that I could blame only children for not understanding the complex nature of a sisterly relationship, of why how you could simultaneously love someone so much that you would risk your life for them, but also could become so irritated by them that you would barter them away for a moment of peace. Still, my sisters were my blood and I loved them more than they irritated me. Even if it did mean that I spent some of my free Saturday in the library helping Psi feed her competitive nature.

Psi, just a year younger than me, was by far the most competitive of my sisters. She hated losing with a passion and she certainly was no humble loser. I'd seen her dissatisfied stare far too often when she had 'lost' to Malfoy. Salazar knew how the pair competed academically when they were in different years, but they managed it somehow. And as of yesterday, Psi was no longer in the lead. Naturally, she had responded instantly, refusing to allow the Malfoy heir to continue to grow his lead and insisted that I imparted my knowledge. As if my brain even retained that much information.

"Is it really that important that you get better O.W.L. scores than Malfoy?" I asked with a sigh. Psi who had been scribbing something down, glanced up sharply from her parchment with narrowed eyes. Holding my hands in surrender, I said, "You're right, that was a stupid question."

Psi, appeased by my words, returned to her notes, occasionally sliding her textbook over to me when she needed clarity with something. Not that it happened often. I seemed to spend more time staring off into space than doing anything productive. Of course, I had a potions essay I needed to work on - but I hadn't reached that level of desperation yet, to become so bored that I started my essay the day after it had been set.

Absentmindedly, I outstretched my hand and picked up the lid of Psi's inkwell. I traced my fingernails over the ridges around the edge, resigning myself to the onset of boredom. Maybe I needed to owl Clio to get some new book recommendations; at least then I'd have something to read the next time I was commandeered by my sister.

A gentle knock brought me out of my thoughts. Lifting my head, I turned to see Macmillan standing at the side of the table, looking down at me with an amused smile. His clenched fist still rested lightly against the wooden surface. Straightening up in my seat, I looked over the Hufflepuff and pointedly ignored Psi's narrowed eyes as they flickered between us.

"If you could see the look on your face," Macmillan started teasingly as he reached into his school bag. Drawing out a slim book, he set it down on the table next to me, "Give this a look over, it helped me with my essay. I remember you were dreading it."

"Thank you!" I readily accepted the book and started flickering through it. If Macmillan was right, and this book helped me with my essay, I'd buy him that bloody chocolate frog card he kept talking about.

"Any time." Macmillan smiled once more, before turning his attention towards my sister. He nodded to acknowledge her and then turned to head away. As he walked, he said, "I'll see you in Potions."

"See you then," I said absentmindedly, turning to the first page.

Leaning back in my chair, I settled in for the read. Reaching the end of the page, I decided that I would begin to look into finding that chocolate frog card, but whether I bought it or not - remained to be seen. Psi cleared her throat pointedly. Lifting my eyes from the written words, I met my sister's waiting eyes.

"Psi?" I prompted when she still said nothing.

With a long-suffering sigh, she set her quill down. Ever the dramatic, Psi crossed her arms and propped them on the table. Leaning towards me, she asked, "What are you doing with him?"

I stared at her uncomprehending. Silently, I arched an eyebrow.

"With Macmillan," Psi elaborated, as if it made it any clearer. "What are you doing with him?"

"Nothing?" I furrowed my eyebrows. "I'm not doing anything with him."

"Come on Erato." Psi shook her head. "He likes you and you know it."

"He doesn't!" Ignoring her disbelieving scoff, I insisted, "You're sounding like a fifth-year."

"I am a fifth year."

"Listen to me, people can be friends, it doesn't have to mean anything. Besides what's wrong with Macmillan? He's my almost friend."

"He's your almost friend? Really? You're telling me that you don't spend time with Macmillan because he's the complete opposite of Zabini?"

I dismissed her words with a wave of my hand. "Blaise isn't my anything."

"He's your fiance."

"Look," I said with a sigh. Leaning towards Psi, I spoke slowly and quietly, "I'm not doing anything with Macmillan. Surprisingly, I actually like spending time with him - it's easy spending time with him. Salazar knows it isn't easy spending any time with Blaise."

"I don't envy you there."

"I don't envy you either." Psi scowled but didn't protest my words either. Instead, she listened steadily as I averted my eyes from her and spoke lowly, "I don't have to second guess everything when I'm talking to Macmillan and that feels good. Don't I deserve that?"

"Of course you do." Psi sighed heavily before she grumbled, "Just you wait, I'm going to write to Terence and Marcus, and they'll knock him down a million pegs."

Fighting a small smile, I just said, "Don't." Gesturing back to Psi's discarded quill, I ordered, "Now concentrate."

"I might even rope Cassius into it," Psi said vindictively, but she did as she was told.

It was an amusing image, to think about my three almost brothers-in-law intervening and doing something to get Blaise to fall into line. Except, I didn't want that, I didn't want someone who had to be manhandled and cajoled into being by my side. After all, wasn't that why I'd asked Cali to petition on my behalf? Still, it was heartwarming to know that the pool of people who held some level of familial regard for me had widened beyond my sisters.

Once Psi had finally had enough, we returned to the common room. As I walked through the room Euta, who was sitting amongst her friends, caught my eye and wordlessly motioned me over. When I reached her side, she handed me a letter which I was quick to accept and I left her alone, not wanting to disturb her. I continued on my way to my dorm, studying my name written on the envelope in Cali's handwriting.

Reaching the safety of my dorm, I clambered onto my bed and drew the curtains shut for some privacy. Breaking the wax seal at the back, I pulled out the contents; one single piece of parchment and a small envelope. The small envelope also featured my name, only this time written in Polly's handwriting. I set it aside for now, reserving it to read before bed, just as I always did. Turning my attention back to Cali's letter, I read over it slowly to make sure I really understood what it said. Thankfully, Cali had kept the legal jargon out of the letter.

It was simple; Mrs Zabini, despite her reservations, had agreed to begin undoing the betrothal. I didn't want to think about what Cali had 'compensated' Mrs Zabini with, and continued to read on anyway. It would take some time to unravel all of the contractual bindings, but Mrs Zabini had insisted that only once I'd turned 18 we could sign the paperwork to finalise the termination of our relationship and once that was done, it would all be over.

It was fine, Cali had handled it. It would take some time, just under 2 years until everything was fully over, but it was better than a lifetime with a man forced to be my something. It was all I had asked for, and yet it felt like my heart was squeezed in a death grip.

**********

There was something about Sunday mornings that kickstarted Euta's battery. It made her wake up earlier than she normally did - which was far too early anyway - before going through the dorms to wake each of us up so we could gather, in our half-asleep state, for mini 'family meetings'. She took her role as the eldest sister at school far too seriously. Still, when she shook me awake, I groaned and rolled over to bury my face in the pillow. Knowing how likely it was that I would just fall asleep again, she ripped the blanket off of me and pulled the pillow out from under my head.

"Fine!" I hissed, throwing her a filthy look that only had her grinning widely. "I'm coming."

"I love you," she teased, blowing me a kiss.

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled.

Forcing myself out of bed, I changed into my comfiest clothes and got ready for the day. Walking into the common room, I headed straight for the sofa that my sisters were crowding around and settled in between Rania and Euta. Rania dug her elbow into my side, trying to get me to shuffle down and when I didn't, she looked like she was going to protest. She settled instantly when Euta shot her a look. Thalia, the last of our sisters to join us, came to stand behind me and set about taming my hair for me. Blindly, I reached behind me to pat her hand in gratitude.

"Can we get a move on please," Rania asked around a yawn. "Why are we awake so early?"

"Clio's birthday is coming up," Euta said as if we didn't all know. "Marcus asked Cali's permission to propose."

"Propose?" I said, eyes widening in surprise, speaking over the excited chatter of my sisters. "On her birthday? Her least favourite day of the year?"

"Something about making it a better day for her, I guess," Psi said contemplatively. "What does he want from us then?"

"To keep it a surprise." Euta gave both Thalia and Rania a pointed look.

My youngest sisters started to protest instantly, refusing to accept their rightful label of being unable to keep a secret. Euta, mildly irritated, as they continued to speak over her, tried to get them to be quiet so she could say whatever else she needed to. She even looked to me for backup, not that I could give her any.

How could I support her when, completely out of character, Blaise had appeared before us? He stood on the side a tad awkwardly, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. It was a new look on him, one that took me aback; in all the years that I had known him, he had always exuded a quiet, arrogant confidence even in unfamiliar situations. Yet here he stood, before my sisters, arms gathered at his back and looking between us all as if he didn't know where to begin. He acknowledged my sisters with a nod before settling his eyes onto mine. And just as always, I was captivated. It had been wishful thinking on my part, but I'd hoped that having started the process of ending our relationship, would have at least partially reduced the effect he had on me. I'd been wrong.

"How are you all?" Blaise asked, taking each of us aback. My sisters, not the fondest of Blaise - not that I could blame them - corralled around me, coming closer to my side. Their mistrustful eyes assessed him dubiously. After all, he was hardly Terence.

Terse and barbed, Psi said, "Fine, thanks."

"Good." Blaise nodded before asking, "Can I speak to you, Era?"

It was Rania who answered, linking her arm through mine as if it would strengthen my resolve. "Why?"

Blaise briefly looked in her direction but directed his response at me, "I need to talk to you about something."

"I'm sure you can talk about it in front of my sisters," I said coolly.

"I'm not sure you'd want that," he shot back.

"I think I know what I want." Rania patted my arm as if she was impressed. "Go ahead, speak."

"Your decision." He shrugged before saying pointedly, "The head of your house wrote to the head of mine."

The statement was enough to give me pause; he knew then. And yet, I hadn't given much thought to him finding out, and I certainly didn't expect him to want to speak to me about it. But here he was, staring over me and I felt as if I'd made a wrong decision, like I had betrayed him in some way. It was an unsettling mess of emotions.

Despite her protests, I removed Rania's hand from my arm and stood from my seat, "Alright, fine."

Gesturing for Blaise to lead the way, I shot my sisters a look from over my shoulder, before following after him. As I walked away, I heard Thalia promise to come and rescue me if Blaise kept me occupied for too long. Salazar, I loved my sisters.

Turning my attention back to the tall Slytherin in front of me, I tried to psych myself up for this conversation, no matter which direction it would go in. And from the tense line of his shoulders, it was difficult to make any predictions. Reaching the small sofa that was set in the corner of the common room - which a pair of first years were occupying - Blaise made a single motion that had them leaving.

"Charming," I said dryly, taking a seat on the now evacuated sofa. Folding one knee over the other, I crossed my arms and watched the brooding boy who stood before me. He showed no signs of joining me. "So?"

"So?" he arched an imperious eyebrow as he remained standing over me. "Do you want to explain to me why Mother wrote to me stating that your eldest sister asked that our betrothal be terminated?"

He wanted me to deny it. For some reason, and although it beggared belief, Blaise was looking at me as if he wanted me to tell him he was wrong. The disbelief was written plainly across his features.

What was the point in denying it? "I asked Calliope to do it."

"Why?" he demanded.

"That's my decision, and I don't need to justify it to you." I considered him with furrowed eyebrows, struggling to understand why we were having this conversation to begin with. "I would've thought you'd be pleased."

He said nothing. Blaise continued to stand before me, looking down at me with guarded eyes. My gaze flickered over his features, trying to read into the truth hidden behind the stone face he presented to me. Except, there was little to make sense of. Blaise should have been looking at me in relief, or even some mild annoyance that I'd beaten him to it, but that wasn't there. Rather -

Blaise almost looked as if he didn't want our betrothal to be broken. But he didn't want me either. That I knew for certain.

"This has been a very productive discussion," I said sarcastically as I stood and made my way around him. "But I'm going to go back to my sisters."

**********

When the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson, I quickly packed my bags. It was finally lunch time and my stomach had kicked its rumbling up another notch. Salazar, it had been embarrassing enough when it grumbled so loudly partway through the lesson. Macmillan had shot one amused look at me before averting his eyes when he found himself under the full brunt of my scowl. But thankfully there was no need to wait anymore.

Standing from my chair, I slung the bag over my shoulder and prepared to leave the classroom behind. Tucking my stool under the desk, I stopped still when I saw how Macmillan looked at me.

"I'll try not to be offended at the fact you're trying to run away from me," he teased, stashing his papers into his bag. Picking it up, he gestured for me to lead the way out of the classroom, "Let me walk you to lunch?"

"As if I need an escort?" I asked dubiously.

"If anything I need an escort; especially when I'm the only badger in here," he said with an easy chuckle.

Macmillan matched his paces with mine as we navigated our way through the crowded corridors. He did the very Hufflepuff thing of filling the silence with chatter, talking about anything and everything. I cast a glance at him from the corner of my eye; how did Hufflepuffs keep anything secret if they were all as ... chatty as he was?

"So you're one of nine then?" Macmillan asked as if it wasn't common knowledge. Still, he shook his head in disbelief.

"Yep, one of nine." Turning the corner, I added, "You're currently walking with number 5 of 9."

"Typical middle child." Macmillan teased as if he, in his entire life as an only child, knew what that meant. Eventually, he conceded, "That must be hectic."

I considered the statement for a moment before agreeing, "Sometimes."

"I think I'd like that." Macmillan paused briefly in his steps, allowing a group of first-years to cut ahead of us. I was forced to stop at his side. "I hated growing up alone; I always wanted a big family."

"It's not all roses," I warned him. "Trust me, when you've got 8 sisters, sometimes you need quiet time. If you thought Hogwarts could be crowded, you've never been to a Selman dinner."

"Is that an invitation?" Macmillan shot me a teasing smile as we approached the dining hall. When I rolled my eyes for him to see, he laughed. "Don't worry, I know when I'm not wanted."

Entering the dining hall, I made a vague gesture towards the Slytherin table. Before I could say a word, Macmillan beat me to it.

"I'll see you later, then?" he asked over his shoulder as he headed to join his housemates.

Nodding my response, I turned my back to him and hurried towards the table. My stomach had started protesting again -

As I drew closer to my housemates, I searched every green and silver robed student. Eventually, when I finally found my sisters clustered together in a group, I made my way over to them. Spying my approach, Psi and Euta shuffled over so I could sit next to them. Greeting my sisters with murmured words, I reached for a plate of rice. Before I could make contact, Psi intervened, setting an envelope into my waiting hand.

When I shot her an affronted look, she explained, "It's from Polly; I accepted it for you."

"Thanks," I said, all thoughts of food forgotten at the mention of my youngest sister. Although Polly's loneliness had abated slightly since she was no longer home alone, she still missed us and Salazar knew I missed her. There was something so sweet about the littlest Selman.

Breaking open the seal at the back of the envelope, I drew out the short letter and scanned it with quick eyes. It was nothing like her usual letters that were full of flowery prose, recounting her day and asking how mine had gone - no doubt that letter would follow shortly tonight. This was a simple request, asking that I accompany her to a writing workshop over the summer holiday. Folding the letter away, I tucked it into the inner pocket of my robes and made a mental note to respond later.

Finally, I could focus on my lunch and made quick work of adding some rice and meat to my plate. Euta added vegetables to the plate with a pointed look, knowing of my aversion to anything that tasted green. She rolled her eyes when I pushed the broccoli around with my fork. From across the table, Thalia cleared her throat, and when I glanced pointedly at her, Rania decided that was the most opportune moment to kick me in the shin. I stopped myself from swearing at her when she nodded to her left.

Following her gesture, my eyebrows drew together at the sight of the three boys who settled down a short distance from us. I had to silently credit Malfoy and Nott who didn't so much as wilt under the strange looks that we sent their way. Even when Malfoy nodded at Psi, who narrowed her eyes threateningly at him, he didn't bat an eyelid. Nott didn't so much as look at Thalia, who certainly looked at him. Blaise - well Blaise was another matter altogether. His focus now, combined with his attention yesterday was the most overt attention I'd ever recalled receiving from him.

"You're making a habit of spending a lot of time with Macmillan," he said slowly, ignoring the way his friends dropped their heads with a sigh. My sisters were doing a very bad job at pretending they weren't listening.

"Why wouldn't I spend time with Ernie?" I asked, taking more pleasure than I'd anticipated in the way Blaise's arrogant eyes narrowed. The vindictive part of me wanted to inflict some form of a wound on him to make up for all the times he'd hurt my pride. "He's a good-looking guy."

I swore a muscle in his jaw clenched before he reminded me, "You're engaged."

"Not for long," I shot back steadily.

My sisters gave up their pretence, startled by the new revelation and looked at me for an explanation. But I wouldn't give them one. Not when my eyes were locked steadily on Blaise's, waiting for a response. He didn't say a word.

His uncharacteristic silence settled uneasily in the space between us. The longer it went on, the more prominent the ache in my chest became. Again, he was looking at me like he was hurt, as if I had hurt him and -

Leaning across the table towards him, I asked earnestly, "Can you honestly tell me that you don't want that too? You can't. Can you even say that your eyes have never strayed somewhere else? Mine were fixed on you for the longest time and now that I'm not revolving around you, you can't handle it?"

He responded at last, shooting back heatedly, "When have I ever implied that my eyes were on anyone else?"

His admission, both his words and his unexpectedly passionate response rendered me silent. What was I supposed to say to that? How could I say anything to that?

**********

Advanced Arithmancy, a subject that I was rapidly beginning to hate, was simply saved for the very fact that following our decision to partner together for Potions, Macmillan had made himself right at home at my desk. It was a class that was made up of a handful of students and none of them were my friends, so I was grateful for the company. Although, perhaps Macmillan could be considered a tentative friend. Salazar knew Pansy wouldn't be happy at how quickly a badger had been able to infiltrate our ranks, but what else could I call Macmillan but a friend? Especially when his surprisingly witty remarks, muttered under his breath at the back of the class, were one of the only things that made the lesson tick by quickly.

And so, when another lesson appeared to fly by, I knew that he had played a massive role in it. Maybe I would allow myself to admit that we were friends. Just not to his face.

"I'll walk you to your common room," Macmillan declared, standing at the side of the desk and waiting for me to join him.

"Are you sure you want to venture down into the snake pit?" I teased, shooting him a knowing look. "I hear some badgers are scared of snakes."

"I told you that in confidence," Macmillan said with mock offence as we made our way out of the classroom. "And that was in second year."

I waved my hand dismissively. "Sure, sure. Don't pretend you're not scared of me."

"Yeah, you're downright terrifying," Macmillan scoffed, nudging me with his shoulder as we stepped out into the corridor.

Turning left, I led the Hufflepuff in the direction of the common room. Macmillan, as he was prone to do, spoke to fill the silence, relaying the contents of our lesson, as if I hadn't suffered through every minute of it right by his side. Still, I listened and tried not to roll my eyes as he once more complained about having let his mother convince him to take Advanced Arithmancy. If that was the worst grievance he had against his parents, then as far as I was concerned, he had it easy.

"Erato." The sudden call of my name startled me so severely that my steps faltered.

Macmillan missed a step at my side, looking curiously at me. I didn't meet his eyes, rather I was too busy searching the corridor for the boy that had called my name. Blaise's voice certainly didn't belong anywhere near this corridor. And yet, there he was. Standing a short distance away from us and resting his back against the wall, Blaise didn't look out of place. Even when he regarded me carefully, arms crossed over his chest.

"Are you waiting for me?" I asked incredulously, cutting across the corridor and approaching my housemate.

As I drew closer to him, Blaise straightened to his full height, standing a few inches taller than Macmillan who had shadowed my steps. I had a half mind to demand to know what he was doing, to seek an answer into why his behaviour had changed so drastically over the last few days. Blaise Zabini was not the sort of boy to seek me out and yet, here he was.

"Do you know anyone else with your name?" Blaise asked dryly, shooting a displeased look at my silent classmate. I narrowed my eyes warningly at Blaise, but that did nothing to curb his very evident irritation which seemed to have found its sole target in the Hufflepuff.

Losing the battle to hold my tongue, I jabbed a finger at his chest and demanded, "Why are you behaving so out of character?"

Blaise lowered his heavy gaze to my finger and arched an eyebrow. Removing my hand, I waited for an answer that never came. Instead, Blaise declared with all the self-righteousness he had - which was an overly excessive amount, "I'm walking you back to the common room."

"That doesn't sound like an offer," I said with a wry smile. Macmillan smothered a chuckle when I shot him a displeased look.

"That's because it wasn't an offer."

Outrage brewing, I curled my hands into fists that were tucked safely out of view by my robe sleeves. His dark eyes remained locked onto mine and I swore that they were alight for an entirely different reason now. The bastard was amused and it only made it worse. "Like absolute hell will I let you tell me what to do."

"As if you ever listen to anyone," Macmillan piped in an attempt to inject levity, nudging me with his shoulder again. It worked partially, shattering some of the tension that had settled into my shoulders, but I swore, under my careful watch I could see the moment the warmth in Blaise's eyes had iced over.

"Come on," Blaise said firmly now, reaching out as if to grab my arm.

Started at the unexpected action, I drew back sharply, looking at him with suspicious eyes. My response made sense, he'd never once reached for me, and I wouldn't apologise for it. Even if it did make Macmillan step forward as if he wrongly believed I needed support. Even if it did make hurt flicker across Blaise's features.

"You don't need to," I said, wanting to sound firm. Instead, my words were far gentler than I'd wanted. "Macmillan already said he'd walk me back."

"And there's no need for him to wander where he's not wanted," his words were barbed.

"He is standing right here," Macmillan said quietly, looking between Blaise and me with assessing eyes,

"Don't involve yourself in this," Blaise cut in, shooting him a look that had Macmillan raising his hands in surrender. "Keep yourself away from people you do not need to be near."

"Leave him alone," I said, reaching out to grab Macmillan by the arm. I pointedly ignored the way Blaise looked at me. Instead, I insisted, "You need to apologise.

Blaise scoffed. "I have nothing to apologise for."

"Of course," I said simply.

Before Blaise could say another word, and I knew he would, for the sheer fact that he had to have the last word, I tugged on Macmillan again. The Hufflepuff fell into step. He waited until we were out of earshot before letting out a low whistle.

"Are you Slytherins always so dramatic?" he asked.

I shot him a look. "What do you think?"

Macmillan shook his head with a mock scowl, "It's making me rethink having a Slytherin friend."

**********

I tried my very best to fight the urge to storm over to Blaise, grab him by his robes and shake an answer out of him. Every final shred of my restraint was strengthened by my fickle pride as I refused to be once again led about so easily by my emotions when it came to Blaise. In all the years I had known him, I had been able to understand why, from his point of view, he behaved the way he did and yet as of late, he was unreadable even to me. Even my sisters had picked up on the change in his behaviour, wanting to know what had caused such a shift and why I'd sought to have our betrothal broken. There weren't many easy answers I could give them so I gave them none. Instead, all of that energy was used to fortify my resolve.

I lasted as long as I could; making it to the end of the evening before I caved. It wasn't as long as I'd wanted, but it was better than nothing. It had to be better than nothing. Especially when Calliope's most recent letter had shattered my remaining restraint.

My dormmates who were sitting around me, spoke amongst themselves and discussed something that I struggled to follow. Rather, my eyes lingered on the three Slytherins who had settled in the corner of the room, talking amongst themselves with absolutely no idea what was going on in my head. Not that I had any idea what I wanted to do. Still, I excused myself and made my way over towards them with quickened steps. There must have been something in my expression that had a group of second-years shifting out of my way.

Coming to a still in front of them, I crossed my arms and waited to be acknowledged. It was Nott who spied me first, lifting his eyes from the essay that he had been looking over. His eyes flickered curiously over me, darting briefly towards the part of the common room where I knew Thalia was sat with her friends before he nudged Malfoy with his elbow. Both of my brothers-to-be shared a silent look.

Eventually, Malfoy breached the silence, "Anything we can help you with?"

"You two, no." I pointed at Blaise and demanded heatedly, "You on the other hand - what is your problem?"

"That's our cue to leave," Nott muttered with a sigh as he gathered his things.

Malfoy rose to his feet and directed a long-suffering sigh towards Blaise, "Bloody dramatic the pair of you."

The two friends quickly exited, leaving us far behind in their retreat. Although, I didn't put it past them to remain within earshot. Left alone with Blaise, I watched as the infuriating boy leaned back in his chair and regarded me with cool eyes.

"Well?" I demanded, propping my hand on my hip.

"Why are you making a scene?" he asked with a sigh. Outstretching his hand to rest against the wooden table top, Blaise drummed his fingers absentmindedly against the surface. Salazar's soul, he knew just how to aggravate me. "Well?"

"I'm making a scene?" I demanded incredulously. "What about the scene you put on earlier? Trying to intimidate Macmillan so he won't walk me back to the common room? Really?"

"Someone thinks very highly of themselves." Blaise tilted his head as he considered me.

"No." I insisted, "You can't dismiss it, Blaise. You've gone from making unnecessarily mean comments at every given opportunity to - what? Waiting outside of my classroom to escort me back to the common room? What are you playing at?"

"You tell me."

I let out a sharp breath, "Stop it - don't even get me started on Calliope telling me that you've asked your mother to make it difficult for us to break the betrothal! What is up with that?"

Blaise, living to infuriate me, held his silence for longer than I would have liked. Eventually, he held my eyes captive as he spoke slowly, "There's an active brain in your head, Era. It's one of your most attractive features. Why don't you tell me what conclusion you've made?"

Taken aback by the compliment and the steady, meaningful ways his eyes flickered between mine, I spoke haltingly. "You're a spoilt only child."

Blaise's eyebrows rose in surprise at my answer, but he said nothing. Even as he straightened in his seat, the corner of his mouth curved upwards in amusement, he continued to look at me, waiting for more.

Well, then. "You're a spoilt only child who's used to getting his way." Swallowing dryly, I forced myself to carry on, "In your head, I was always yours or something that would become yours. But now that it's changing, you're lashing out and throwing temper tantrums at every opportunity you have."

"I don't throw temper tantrums," he said self-righteously. "But you're right. I am reacting to having someone who's supposed to be mine pulled away from me."

"How dare-"

Blaise shook his head, leaning towards me and speaking insistently when I tried to interrupt. "Do you honestly believe that you can just leave my life after running rampant through my mind for years? After throwing me off kilter all the fucking time?"

I searched his features with wide eyes, searching for some sign of deception, of tricky. My hands grew clammy when I found none. Heart thundering in my chest, I tried to think of something to say, of anything to say, but my brain was blank. Not that there was an opportunity for me to say anything -

"Do you expect me to just sit back and do nothing, Erato?" He arched a haughty eyebrow. "No, I'll make ending this betrothal as difficult as I fucking please."

"Wait-" I scrambled for something to say, watching as Blaise rose to his feet, no doubt planning on joining his friends. He halted his movements at the sound of my voice, waiting expectantly. When I said nothing - what could I even say - he left me standing by myself. Salazar's soul, I refused to believe it.

**********

Following Blaise's ... revelations, I resorted to evading him and making sure to avoid even his shadow. It was incredibly difficult to do, especially when we shared a common room and had so many of the same lessons. And it was made even worse by my having to fight against every part of me that had become so accustomed to seeking him out, had become so used to loving him. Especially now when he had implied that he might even ... that he might also ...

Forcefully dismissing the thought, I clutched my textbooks tighter to my chest. The trek from the library felt like it took longer than it usually did, for the sole reason that I was dragging my feet, forcing my paces to slow down so I arrived at the common room late. If I had timed everything perfectly, the common room would be empty once I arrived and I could head straight to my dorm room without running the risk of catching a glimpse of Blaise, or of him finding me. I just had to continue to walk slowly.

But even the best-laid plans didn't always work out. The common was less busy when I arrived, with most of the students having retired to their dorm rooms. Except. My luck had proved to be rotten, just as it always did, as my eyes settled on the few students in the common room who sat around the table. Even from afar, I easily recognised Thalia who sat between Nott and Blaise.

Thalia and Blaise were seated together, leaning over a piece of parchment she held out towards my betrothed. Well, my soon-to-be not betrothed. Besides them, Nott leaned back in his chair as he read the open pages before him. His hand was absentmindedly draped over the back of Thalia's chair.

Hesitating at the entrance of the common room, I surveyed the room, seeking out the most effective way of making it to my dorm without being seen. But of course, that was too much to ask for.

"Era!" Thalia called out, spying me and ushering me over.

I briefly contemplated shaking my head, continuing with my original plan, but how could I refuse when she was gesturing for me to join her with that smile of hers? And also, there was no point; both Nott and Blaise were now looking at me. I set off slowly with reluctant steps until I reached the table.

Still, when I lingered without making a move to take a seat, the decision was taken from me. Blaise, whose eyes had once more fallen to the parchment he had been studying, absentmindedly drew the chair beside his out from under the table. Patting the chair once, he drew his hand back to his side.

"Zabini is helping me with my Potions essay," Thalia explained when I eventually gave in and settled at the table. "It turns out that he's actually a really good teacher!"

"Who would've thought," Nott remarked dryly, glancing briefly towards Thalia who resolutely kept her eyes locked onto the words before her. I knew my sister well enough to know that she was shielding her reddening features from his eyes, but her betrothed certainly didn't know that. The Nott heir frowned before returning his attention to his reading.

"He must be a good teacher if he's able to help you of all people understand Potions," I teased, making my sister roll her eyes. Uncertainly, I shot a look at Blaise who didn't look at me. His eyes hadn't so much as glanced my way from the first step I took towards the table. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

Fidgeting with my hands, I searched for something to say, anything to say to fill the silence. Except, I wasn't sure what to say when I wasn't even sure what I was doing here. Meeting Thalia's waiting eyes, I shook my head in warning when she arched a teasing eyebrow. She gave a confident nod, one that had me widening my eyes threateningly, trying to channel Clio's signature look of disapproval. When Thalia pushed her chair away from the desk, I knew I had failed miserably.

"Let me go and get the notes from today's lesson," Thalia declared, pointedly ignoring the way I narrowed my eyes at her. Instead, she hesitated, before nudging Nott with her arm. The boy silently watched Thalia, relenting with a low sigh when she gestured with a nod for him to follow her. My traitor of a sister and her tagalong left us alone, but not before Thalia gestured pointedly between Blaise and me.

Before I could make a hasty exit, and I certainly planned to, I was rendered immobile by yet another one of Blaise's out-of-character gestures. This one was perhaps the most surprising. He waited until my sister and his friend were out of earshot before he said, "I'm sorry."

"What?" I asked abruptly, so startled that any thoughts of abandoning Blaise faded. Coming to my senses, and realising just how sharp my exclamation was, I cleared my throat and declared, "The world must be ending."

Blaise shot me a pointed look, "I'm trying to apologise here."

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"You're entitled to make your own decisions," Blaise said slowly, shaking his head, "and if you've decided that you want to end things, then that's that."

"Oh." Catching and holding his eyes, I tried to get a read of what was going on in that complicated mind of his. It was a struggle, one that I wasn't sure I'd succeeded in. Still, I felt the need to say, "It won't be officially over until after we've signed the papers in a few years."

Blaise nodded at that but said nothing else. Instead, we both sat in a stifling silence, one that I wanted to break. I wanted to say anything to break the heavy lull that sat uncomfortably between us. It was an unfamiliar feeling, one I hoped I never felt again. And it was only the need to break the silence that made me speak again when really I shouldn't have,

"There's something else you need to apologise for."

He raised an incredulous eyebrow, turning in his seat to face me. "Excuse me?"

I'd said it now, and there was no taking it back. Now that I had thrown the gauntlet out there, I would have to follow through, even though every rational part of my brain screamed for me to stay silent. But I was far from being the most rational Selman.

Blaise searched my gaze, eyebrows drawing together slightly. "Well?"

"You can't just say the things you said to me last night and then just disappear," I declared self-righteously. "I couldn't sleep at all."

"Good," he said so firmly that I tried not to scowl. "That makes it worth it. Salazar knows that I've been struggling to sleep because of you."

"I haven't done anything," I protested.

"You have, you've done everything" he insisted before glancing cautiously away from me. Blaise didn't bring himself to look at me as he murmured, "Sometimes I think you could easily become everything to me."

"What?" Some part of me hoped he would speak again if only to confirm that I hadn't misheard him over the sound of my heart thundering in my chest. But, he didn't say anything. Not that I expected him to; it had probably been hard enough the first time. "Why did you ... why did you never say anything?"

"We don't ... do feelings in my home."

I supposed that I could understand where he was coming from. We certainly hadn't used to discuss feelings in my house either and whilst growing up, the only real healthy relationship I had witnessed was Calliope and Terence's. How different would I have been if I hadn't grown up watching them love each other wholeheartedly? If my childhood wasn't bookmarked with dozens of memories of Terence prioritising my sister when she refused to prioritise herself, perhaps I wouldn't have wanted to be loved like that.

"We've both made a mess of this," I said instead of sharing my epiphany.

"You more than me." When I shot him an incredulous look, I found him watching me with a teasing smile. I shook my head incredulously.

Thalia, returning to the table with a pile of parchment stashed in her arms, saved Blaise from my retort. Instead, she took her seat again and asked, "Did you kiss?"

Neither of us responded.

Nott settled at the table again, looking at his friend with a faint smile. "Well?"

"I think I prefer you when you don't speak," I grumbled.

**********

In a matter of a few short years, my feelings towards school holidays had drastically changed. When father was alive, I dreaded the holidays because they only meant that I'd have to see him again, I'd have to spend my every moment looking over my shoulder and listening out for his heavy steps. Father had always been an unpleasant man, and the only reason I had tolerated him was because I'd had to. Seeing Polly again had been the only silver lining to coming home, and I would live under Father's daunting rule again, just for her.

But now, with Father reclaiming his rightful place in the dirt, I adored the holidays. Now, living under the shelter of Cali's shadow, the holidays were a welcome break from lessons and homework and even from navigating the tentative uncertain turn that my relationship with Blaise had taken. My days were filled with my sisters, reading over the latest snippet of Polly's writing, taste testing Euta's newest creation and reaching for my sketchbook whenever there was a spare moment. It was in the nights, however, when I wasn't busy, that my brain shifted back to thoughts of the boy I had been trying desperately hard not to think about.

Polly, throwing herself down onto the sofa next to me, curled up at my side, tucking herself as close to me as possible. I lifted the blanket that was draped across my knees and covered her with it. With a contented sigh, Polly leaned against me as her eyes scanned the parchment she was holding. From over her shoulder, I peeked at the unfamiliar handwriting.

"Don't be nosey," she teased, shifting the parchment so I could get a better look at it.

My eyes settled on Cassius's name signed at the bottom. Folding her letter in half, Polly tucked it away in her pocket and rested against me once more. When she gave a quiet call of my name, I hummed contemplatively turning my unseeing eyes onto the fireplace as it burned quietly.

"When are you going to kiss Zabini?"

My head snapped so quickly towards her that I swore it would ache tomorrow. My youngest sister looked at me with innocent eyes that didn't match the mischievous smile curled at her lips. Even when I narrowed my eyes at her, her smile only grew wider.

"You've been gossiping about me," I accused.

Polly was saved from having to answer me when the fireplace activated. Shifting my attention from my sister, I watched as Terence clambered out, wiping the soot from his clothes. He made his way towards us and gave us both a hug.

"How are my two favourite Selmans?" he asked when he straightened up.

"Oh please," I said, swatting him on the shoulder, "you say that to all of us."

He put a hand on his chest with an exaggerated frown, "I'm offended. You know you're my favourite Selman's."

I rolled my eyes, even as Polly straightened up, wanting to catch him out. "What about Calliope?"

"Ah, see, she's already a Higgs to me," Terence confided with a wink as if he didn't regularly address Calliope as 'wifey'.

"Are all men like you?" Polly asked, considering Terence with assessing eyes.

"Only the good ones." Terence's eyes flickered briefly towards me then, lingering in a way that seemed more like a protective older brother, than he usually did. "Anyway, Pol - speaking of my wife, can you please remind her that we've got date night tonight?"

Polly's eyes darted briefly between the pair of us before she conceded without a protest. Rising from her seat, Polly left us alone. Once she was out of earshot, I turned my attention back to Terence who remained standing in front of me.

"You're beginning to worry me," I warned him.

"You've got nothing to worry about," he assured me, sitting down next to me. His eyes shifted contemplatively towards the fireplace before he added, "Well, apart from owing me for keeping the new additions in line."

"I think your Healer training is eating your brain. You're not making any sense."

"Don't worry, he won't be long." Meeting my searching eyes, Terence gave a long-suffering sigh, "Why can't you all stay as kids and just not grow up?"

Maybe his healer training really was eating away at his brain. Salazar knew that Terence was making very little sense, and I didn't bother telling him that again. I wasn't sure I'd get an answer that made any sense anyway. Instead, I patted his shoulder awkwardly, unsure of how to comfort him, or even if he needed comforting in that moment.

"Finally," Terence murmured when the fireplace activated again. He stood then, standing in front of the sofa, partially in front of me with his eyes locked onto the fireplace. I had to peer around him to watch as Blaise fucking Zabini stepped out into my home.

"What?" I demanded in a harsh whisper, reaching a hand out to tug harshly on Terence's trouser leg. He cocked his head towards me slightly, to indicate that he was listening, even as his eyes remained steadily watching Blaise who stood at his full height, hands gathered behind his back, appearing completely at ease. The bastard. "What is he doing here?"

"Apparently all of you sisters have a habit of running away," Terence murmured before speaking loud enough for Blaise to hear him, "He's promised to be on his best behaviour."

"That doesn't explain anything!" I hissed again, pointedly ignoring Blaise and the fact that the corners of his mouth curved as if he were fighting a smile. The utter bastard. How dare he look so at ease in my home, while I felt so exposed.

"On your best behaviour!" Terence threatened, pointing a finger towards Blaise who was quick to nod. Satisfied, Terence made his way out of the room. He lingered at the threshold, long enough to remind me, "Shout if you need me to hex him."

Only once we were left alone, did I address the boy who remained standing, watching me intently. "What are you doing here, Zabini?"

"I had no idea that Higgs could be so fierce," Blaise started conversationally as he approached me with slow steps. "But he is fierce when it comes to you sisters."

I watched each step apprehensively; there was some form of underage magic going on, there had to be. It was the only explanation for why, with each subsequent step, my heart rate picked up, and my hands became restless as they picked at the blanket. When I said nothing, he frowned ever so slightly but carried on anyway.

"You know, I've never had a fatherly chat with anyone in my figure, but I figure today is as close as I'll ever get." Blaise's steps halted as he stood over me, I had to tilt my head back to keep my eyes on his. "Especially considering Flint of all people said his piece."

"Marcus and Terence laid into you then," I said with a laugh, trying and failing not to imagine my two sort of brothers standing over a cowed Blaise. Under my eyes, I watched as the sound of my laughter visibly made him soften, the tension fading from his shoulders. "What did they say to you then?"

Taking a seat beside me, Blaise reached a hand out to fidget with the edge of my blanket. Drawing my legs up under me, I shifted to face him. I studied his downturned face, and with all of his attention fixed on his hand, I was free to catalogue each of his handsome features without fear of scrutiny.

"They told me that pride means absolutely nothing in love. That it can hinder love and suffocate it."

"Love?" I repeated, startled. His eyes flickered upwards, holding my gaze captive. "You - you think you love me?"

"I think I could," he admitted softly, as if unable to say it any louder. It didn't matter how quietly he spoke, I heard it anyway. "I think I'm falling in love with you Erato - that I have been for as long as I've known you."

"What?" I'd heard every word, and yet my brain felt as if it was still struggling to comprehend any of it.

Lifting his head, Blaise cleared his throat before speaking once more, his prior hesitation fading, "I think I'd like us to just give this a go, to try and have as normal a relationship as possible. Let's forget the betrothal for a bit and just date?"

I didn't respond right away, how could I? His words had stripped me of mine. And yet, Blaise was looking at me, in that steady way of his, waiting for a response. For any response. I had spent so long wanting him to like me back, I had lost myself in the unlikelihood of it happening that I'd never contemplated what I'd do if it were true.

I pressed my palm against his forehead.

"What are you doing?" he asked incredulously.

"I'm checking that you don't have a fever."

Blaise chuckled shortly, lifting my hand from his forehead. He held my hand steadily between both of his. "Erato? You're answer?"

Surely, the answer was obvious? "Do you promise you're not ill?"

"Era."

**********

4 YEARS LATER

There was something to be said about the pleasure that came from forcing your boyfriend to sit through a date night that consisted of doing something he abhorred. Or maybe that was only the case when said boyfriend was Blaise. Blaise who loved to be infuriatingly irritating at the best of times, because he claimed that he loved how fierce my eyes looked when I was annoyed, or because he claimed he enjoyed the process of pampering me until my mood had brightened. And well, I wasn't going to turn my nose up at being spoiled rotten. And maybe Blaise's thinking had been right, something was endearing about the way he fought to straighten out the furrow in his brow as he regarded the portraits in front of him. Blaise Zabini certainly wasn't a man of the arts.

Standing behind me, Blaise reached out and grasped me by the arms. He slowly traced his palms up and down the length of my arms, stepping into me so that his chest rested against my back. Even when he lazed his nose against the outer shell of my ear, I kept my eyes fixed on the earnest eyes of the girl depicted in the muggle portrait. Muggle artwork was always so fascinating; how did they capture expressions like that without using any magic?

Blaise let out an amused huff, his warm breath skating against my skin when I didn't acknowledge him. Still, he drew his hands down my arms until he could lace his fingers through mine, before he spoke softly, "Remind me again why we're at an art exhibition?"

"Because I love to paint," I reminded him, turning my face briefly towards his when he leaned down to kiss me on the corner of my mouth. "And also because you lost our wager."

"Fair enough, but remind me why I agreed to let you bring some of your sisters along for our date night?"

"Because you love me. And you lost our wager." I turned in his arms so I could face him. Drawing my arms around his waist, I peered up into Blaise's face and watched him roll his eyes. Still, he didn't contest my words.

"Just so you know, this doesn't actually count as a date," Blaise said quietly, "not with your sisters with us."

"Stop it," I chastised, swatting him on the chest. "You love my sisters. Now let me look at the art in peace."

"You're going to look at yourself?"

My mouth dropped open in outrage, my ears flushing an unattractive shade of red. "That was horrendous, never do that again."

Blaise rolled his eyes, even as he fought an amused smile. He looked like he was going to say something else, something equally startling and horrifying, that would only strengthen my resolve to have Terence give him a physical health check. I was spared from any further embarrassing remarks though, when someone called out for Blaise. The male voice was so surprising that I drew out of Blaise's arms, searching the room until my eyes settled on the figure walking towards us.

Seeing him was enough to have me stepping away from Blaise, eyes instantly seeking out Rania and Polly who were a short distance from us. As my boyfriend turned to greet Montague, Rania started to close the distance between us. I met her more than halfway, letting herself stand partially behind me. Polly, confused but ever observant, joined us as the two men spoke amongst themselves. I reached out blindly for Rania, holding her hand steady as I kept Montague within my eyesight; I could understand the protective instinct my older sisters always claimed to feel.

Blaise saying something to Montague, looked around, searching for me and found me a short distance away. He frowned, looking between my sisters and me in confusion, before leading Montague towards us. Salazar's soul, he should've kept him away. Once Montague was within earshot, I forced myself to adopt a pleasant smile, allowing Blaise to facilitate the introductions because I knew I couldn't trust myself to sound pleasant in front of the man who had hurt Rania. Still, I watched Montague steadily, scrutinising him close enough to pick up on the way his eyes lingered on her. That was enough -

"Era," Rania murmured in my ear, turning so her back was facing Montague's appaising eyes.

"Rania?"

"Polly and I are going to head into the next exhibit," she said, reaching for our youngest sister. Polly linked her arm through Rania's.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked, grabbing her free hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

"Fine." She gave me a strained smile and avoided my searching eyes. "Trust me."

My two sisters headed off, putting some much-needed distance between Montague and Rania. I watched them disappear out of my eyeline and turned towards Blaise who said his goodbyes to Montague. I had the restraint to offer Montague a faint wave and didn't focus on him beyond that. Instead, I turned my entire focus onto my boyfriend who considered me with a concerned furrow between his brows.

"Is there anything I should know about, between Montague and Rania?" Blaise asked.

"Nothing," I said faintly.

"Are you sure?" he asked dubiously, ducking his head slightly to meet my gaze. "Because you look stressed."

"I always look stressed." I offered him a teasing smile, but I couldn't be sure how successful I was. Not when I was contemplating setting the combined terror of Clio and Psi on Montague. "Salazar knows you stress the life out of me."

Blaise kissed my temple, speaking against my skin as he offered, "Let me try and take the stress for you; why don't you stress me out by picking which of these god-awful paintings you want me to hang in my flat and I promise to pay the outrageous price in full? How does that sound?"

"Like fun." I grinned when he rolled his eyes. Taking his hand, I eagerly tugged it so he could follow me. Blaise allowed me to lead him easily around. "Come on, I saw one you'll absolutely hate; I think it should go in your bedroom."

He gave a long suffering sigh, "The things I do to keep you in my bedroom."

When I made a scandalised sound, Blaise laughed. He was enjoying this far too much; I was going to make him buy a painting I knew he'd detest.

_____________________

So, what did you think? I hope you liked it!

For some reason, this series has a hold on me and refuses to let go until it's all written 

As for the next one shot, I can't make any promises about when it'll be up, but I'm hoping to have it posted before the end of the month. Here are the hints:

* an only child

* pureblooded

* talented at duelling