Love Is Deaf (Penguin Desperado/Madam Mim)

"Sorry for how... abrupt that was," he said with a grin that said that he wasn't even the least bit sorry. "If you ask me, Snape was the better teacher. I suppose not all thought so, but his blatant favoritism for Slytherins worked out quite well. He was a bit too extreme at times, however," Blaise said. "In any event, it depends on how you would have made to resuscitate me," he said breezily as he made his way past her.

He came to the end of the hallway, before turning back to see to her. "If you had other business, I'd understand of course... but I wasn't hoping to end our date just yet. We could go for a walk. Maybe up to the owlery or the castle battlements? It appears to be a fairly lovely night out," he said, holding out his hand for her to take.
 
Cautiously Maggie stepped forward. How had he meant, the way she would have rescucitated him? Slowly she slid her hand into his and curled her fingers around the edge of his palm, biting her lips to avoid smiling.

"I um...I'd really love that," she said quietly. The Ravenclaw let Blaise lead the the way wherever he thought fit, plucking up the courage to bring up the one word echoing in her mind. "So um...date, huh?" she asked at last, flushing deeply in the dark. She was unsure whether to tell him that she'd never been on a proper date before.

As her companion led her where he would, Maggie considered him. He had been kind to her, treated her like a real person from the very start. He was clearly quite intelligent and very amusing. He could be sweet, was certainly attractive. Sure, he was a bit vain but Maggie believed that could be cured; vanity stemmed from insecurity. If the insecurity was eliminated with love and support, vanity would follow in kind. She had at a distance always thought Blaise Zabini arrogant, but up close it was really just the same sense of superiority all Ravenclaws had to one degree or another, knowing that lacking fellow Ravenclaws they were probably the smartest person in the room.

Yes, Maggie decided as a shaft of moonlight fell on Blaise's high cheekbones. Yes, she rather did fancy him.
 
Blaise actually found it difficult to fight the smile off of his own face. It was almost infectious, since he saw her trying to fight it back as well. He squeezed her hand as she gave it to him. "I'm glad to hear that," he said, as he took off for the stairs to the upper levels of the castle.

"Mmhm," he made the noise in the back of his throat, before remembering and turning to face her as they walked up yet another set of stairs. "Of course," he replied instead. Goodness, he rather enjoyed the look of red in her cheeks. It was actually pretty adorable. He hadn't gone into this knowing just how much inexperience the young Ravenclaw had, but now he was getting a much better idea. He was starting to wonder if he was her first ever date. The idea was actually a little sad.

As they reached one of the highest floors in one of the towers, Blaise opened up a door that looked all the world like any of the others. It opened up onto a walkway that ran around the school itself, leading out to the owlery if one followed it out and down a bit. The view up here was breathtaking. They could see out over the grounds of Hogwarts; the lake, the far off mountains obscured in a faint blue haze. The sun had already gone down over the far off mountains, painting the sky in deep blues and purples.

The moon shone down on them, full as could be.

Blaise's hand squeezed hers, and he took her down onto the walkway. Not many other students went out this way. There were easier ways to go out to check on one's owl. Blaise just rather enjoyed the sense of privacy that could be afforded out here under the stars.

He glanced down to her with a faint smile. "What do you think?" he asked. Once again, his eyes locked instead on her blues. They seemed even lovelier out here where the moon could fall gently over the soft lines of her face.
 
Maggie followed close behind, allowing herself to grin behind Blaise's back. She had seen the smile threatening his features, too, which told her that he was starting to enjoy himself just as much as she was. Her heart did a little backflip when he confirmed that they were, in fact, on a date. Her first date!

Yes, she was sixteen and this was her first real, actual date; she had never been kissed, either. She knew it was pathetic, but that wasn't her concern right now. Her concern was Blaise Zabini.

He held the door open for her and she thanked him quietly, taking note that he was a gentleman. When he led her down the walkway, the sight that met them took her breath away. She squeezed his hand gently as she looked out over the mountains with the moon hung over them like a bird perched on a picket fence. He caught her attention and she watched his lips a little more intently than usual. She grinned.

"I think I'm sort-of rather glad Peeves dumped frog slime on me this morning," she said quietly, looking down with an embarrassed grin.
 
Blaise seemed rather intent on engendering a whole bunch of "firsts" into her life. First non-asshole (apparently) Slytherin, first Slughorn party... first date... He found himself leaning up against the low stone wall that ran the length of the walkway, settling an arm across its top, her hand still in his, as he looked her over.

"You know, I would wager that you are the first to say that. Allow me to be the second," he said. He reached out to her after a moment, taking a few strand blond hairs in his fingers before lifting them and smoothing them back across her ear. A rather easy excuse to make for his large hand to come to rest across her jaw, as his hand on hers on the walkway moved up to settle across her forearm.

With that hand on her cheek, he raised her head back up as she looked down. Tilting her up toward him as he looked down at her with a small smile. He doubted there would be a better time to make his pass at it, so he leaned in slightly. Taking it slow so as to not scare her off. He went in for the kiss.
 
Maggie smiled as Blaise echoed her sentiment. Her heart leapt into her throat when he touched her hair then her face. He tilted her chin up and his eyes almost telegraphed his intent. The Ravenclaw's chest heaved a little as her heart rate sped up suddenly. Then, without much preface, his lips were on hers.

Blaise's lips were surprisingly soft, pressing insistently but not domineeringly against her own lips. Maggie made a tiny noise of surprise, but leaned into it slowly as her confidence grew. Her hands slid up Blaise's chest and rested gently on his shoulders, fingertips pressing gently against him

When the two finally broke apart, Maggie was quite flushed and trying to hide that she was grinning madly. Looking down still, the cleared her throat.

"That ah...that was amazing. Th-thank you." Sh cast her eyes downward again though her hands stayed on his shoulders. Her lips were tingling.
 
Blaise's hand relented on her arm as she instead went to press her hands against his chest, settling them at last upon his shoulders. His hand instead went to rest on her hip, before sliding around to her lower back to hold her against him as they shared their kiss. After several long moments, he pulled back.

His lips felt like they were tingling, too. He couldn't really put a better word to it than that. In fact, it hadn't ever felt like that before. He smiled at the feeling, however, feeling a bit amused as he watcher her try and hide her wide grin. He could see how much of an impact he was making on her.

His hand slid from her cheek down to the back of her neck, holding her there in a warm embrace. "Mm. I agree. You're quite welcome," he said with a small laugh. "Though in that case, thank you, too. I've had a wonderful night so far," he said. It was only around forty after seven by then. They still had quite a bit of night ahead of them.
 
With Blaise's arm wrapped around her waist, Maggie felt safe. She rubbed her lips together to try and wipe off that silly grin, but it wasn't working. She leaned her cheek gently against his wrist as his hand wrapped around the back of her neck.

"I'm just glad this isn't some joke or bet or something," she said with a smile. Her eyes sparkled with the exhilaration of the kiss and of liking someone who genuinely liked her back. "Just...promise it isn't? I mean, if it is just tell me now and I might not dislike you as much and we'll just get on with our lives."

Her look, however, told him that she desperately hoped it wasn't. He was nice, and she didn't want her first kiss ever to have been a sham. She squeezed his shoulders gently, as if not wanting him to realize that she was holding on for dear life.

"I guess I just hope..y'know...coz I'd really like to do that again..." She didn't need to hear to know how stupid and pathetic she sounded. The Ravenclaw clamped her mouth shut in an effort to not embarrass herself further.
 
Blaise suddenly felt bad, which was... a bit of an unusual thing for him. He'd taken precautions against Malfoy, but on the off chance that Malfoy managed to get around all that... well... He was legitimately enjoying his time with her. And, forward-thinking as he tended to be... he didn't want it all to come apart later on by way of Malfoy's loose lips.

"I would, too, Maggie. I would like that very much. So I'll say it; Malfoy bet me to take you out. Of course... it just so happened that I was planning on asking anyway. He thought I'd run off halfway through, but that couldn't have been further from the truth... as I believe I've indicated," he said. He knew that this was going to be bad. But at the same time... if he didn't come clean now, then it would only end up worse later. And he didn't want that to be the case.
 
Maggie lowered her hands and pulled away from Blaise. Her throat clenched and her chin trembled momentarily before she regained control. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and swallowed her unshed tears, bit couldn't control the undeniably hurt expression as she worked through what to do.

"That's cruel, Blaise," she said at last, still staring hard at him. "Even if you were going to ask me out anyway, you shouldn't have taken that bet. I'm just as human as you are, you know; I feel just the same as you do. And I really do like you."

She took a step or two away, looking down both to think and not give him an opportunity to say anything she'd catch. She didn't want talking right now; she wanted to think. Blaise had been honest with her, which meant his feelings and actions had probably been genuine. But how could she trust him if by his own admission he'd asked her out on a bet. Finally she looked up and stepped back toward him.

"If I find out that this is still some cruel joke or bet, even after you've been honest with me, you'll be the one people pity," Maggie said, leveling her gaze to his face with a look that communicated how deadly serious she was. "Peeves dumping frog slime on you will be the least of your worries. I'm particularly good at disfiguring hexes, you see, and I will use every single one I know on you and damn the consequences. You're the nicest anyone's ever been to me, and that means a lot. If for whatever reason you stop liking me, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it; if I find out it was never real in the first place...I'll make sure you regret it far more than I do." Her tone was low and mostly casual, but very serious. She liked him, buy she meant every word.
 
"I know. That's why I decided to come clean about it. Er. To use his exact words, he bet me to seduce you. His real intent was that he thought I couldn't stand to speak to you. But Malfoy already was quite stupid," he said, watching as she took a few steps away from him to think. Yeah, he'd known this was going to be bad. But finding that he actually liked the girl had been something of a surprise even to him. He felt bad about letting her down. And that was starting to bug him a bit. In a good way.

As Maggie returned and leveled her threats against him, Blaise was actually a bit taken aback. Goodness, her fury was a sight to behold. The fact that she said it all quite casually was even worse in his book. That surprising streak actually only resulted in him being a bit more interested, which probably meant that there was something wrong with him.

"If it still was, I wouldn't have come clean about all of that.... and if I didn't care for you, I wouldn't be sticking around after you threatened to disfigure me." He figured that had to count for something.
 
"I mean it," Maggie said sternly, though she regained her smile and again took on her usual sweet demeanor.

Without warning, she hugged him. It wasn't a desperate or clinging hug, but a gentle hug full of affection and warmth. Despite how cruelly some people had treated her in the past, Maggie Cartwright was simply waiting to share an abundance of love and affection with someone who was genuinely interested. She squeezed his middle gently and leaned her cheek against Blaise's chest.

"Thank you," she said quietly, "for being honest with me. Always be honest with me, even when the truth is something you know I won't like, and you'll never give me reason not to trust you."

Giving him an extra small squeeze, she looked up at Blaise and smiled again. "So, it's not yet eight o'clock and that's out of the way. Did you have anything else in mind?"
 
Blaise was genuinely surprised when she leaned into him to wrap her arms around him, his arms going up in the air over her shoulders. This was... different. He was a Slytherin. While not the rule, per se, it was generally a given that, as they grew older, they would speak in doublespeak, turning every conversation into a battle of passive aggressive half-truths. At least, that's what he'd learned from observation over the years.

Slowly, his arms lowered and wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close to him. She wouldn't be able to hear it of course, but she would be able to feel his heart beat quicken under her cheek. Her words were comforting in a way he couldn't quite explain, and after a long moment, he looked down at her, to see her looking back up at him.

"Not as such, but I imagine dinner is going on right now." He thought for a moment. What all was on the menu tonight...? He turned away from her briefly, holding her with one arm as he withdrew his wand. With a flick and a call of Accio, he cast a spell. A moment later, a small pastry came flying over the side of the wall, up from the Great Hall, leaving behind an extremely confused third year that had been reaching for it.

"I suppose we never did have dessert at Slughorn's awful party, did we?" he asked, offering her the fruit tart with a small laugh. "Beyond that, not much. I thought a walk out here would be enjoyable."
 
Maggie smiled as she felt Blaise's heart quicken. It was a little comforting to know that he wasn't always as cool and collected as he seemed. She laughed as the fruit tart came flying up over the edge of the wall; she could imagine how it must have looked, flying out the window on its own to destinations unknown.

"I'd like that," she said with a smile, still giggling as she bit into the tart. It was delicious, of course; the house elves always outdid themselves. She gave herself a few moments to chew before speaking again.

"So...what's your favorite sort of baked good?" she asked, looking up at Blaise and sliding her free hand down to twine with his. Her heart thudded against her chest so hard she hoped it wasn't audible, but she liked holding his hand. "There's this room on the fifth floor...It'll give you anything you want. I go in there to cook sometimes. The food here is always wonderful, but it's sort of a...stress thing, I guess."
 
"Tiramisu. Italian coffee cake," he said, glancing down as her hand went down to hold onto his own. He couldn't remember the last time someone had held his hand like this. It was another consequence of being a Slytherin. One tended to fear being mocked, so one generally kept things to themselves. He was rather starting to think that being on the open side wasn't the most terrible idea in the world.

"The fifth floor? You're talking about the Room of Requirement?" Of course he knew about it. He was Malfoy's "friend", and the boy had crowed for weeks about how he'd "stuck it to Potter" during last year's Dumbledore's Army incident. He'd had half a mind to join it himself after the fact, partially since he'd hated Umbridge just as much as anyone else.

"Well, if you'd like to go down there, I wouldn't be against it," he said.
 
Maggie smiled crookedly. "Italian. Of course," she teased before tugging at his hand when he offered to go down to the Room of Requirement.

"Come on, then," she said gently, tugging him back toward the door inside. She didn't necessarily want to leave the beautiful view...but any view would be beautiful if it had Blaise in it. "I thought I was the only one who knew about the Room," she said over her shoulder as she led the way carefully down the stairs, "but then of course that thing last year. What was it? Dumbledore's Army? Luna was in it and she hadn't even said anything, so were Cho and Marianna Edgecomb. But Luna's always been good at keeping secrets and I expect Cho went because of Harry Potter. I just wish I'd known; I'd have done it in a heartbeat."

Maggie didn't let go of his hand when they reached the bottom of the stairs to the tower and began to descend the staircase to the fifth floor. "But Marianna...I don't know why she'd have snitched like that! I dunno who hexed her, but she deserved what she got, I think. Lots of people didn't believe Harry Potter last year, but I did and what they were doing was honorable. Ministry holds a trial, the Prophet tried to discredit him, and then look! You-Know-Who himself shows up in the Ministry of Magic itself! The Ministry!"

She stopped on the second-to-last step and turned to face Blaise, a little pink in the cheeks. "Oh...sorry, I didn't mean to get political or anything. I just...I hate stupid people, you see. Can't tolerate them. And I stopped reading the Prophet and even didn't talk to Seamus Finnegan for a while because of that whole mess last year. Now everyone who tried to call Potter a nutter's falling all over themselves to praise him as the Chosen One and say they knew it all along. It's disgusting."

She started walking again, leading the way to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. The door to the Room of Requirement appeared, and when they walked in a large, cozy kitchen awaited them. She furrowed her brow for a moment at an addition that had never been there before, but she supposed it made sense. A sitting room had appeared as well, for Blaise she supposed.

"Well, make yourself comfy," she said, stepping in and immediately going through drawers. "You can change that part if you like," she waved vaguely at the sitting room, "I guess it was just drawing from my memories. But don't try to change the kitchen. I'd know every inch of this kitchen even if I was blind." Maggie smiled. "I do all the cooking since Mu--Well, I do all the cooking." She flushed a little and continued rummaging, pulling ingredients out of the cupboards.
 
"What can I say? I enjoy home cooking," he said. After all, his name was Italian. His mother's second husband had been an Italian wizard of some import. It was the one other language he knew other than English, as a result.

"Dumbledore's Army, yes. I only know because Malfoy wouldn't stop gloating about how he and his cronies had done Umbridge's bidding. I'm glad that that ghastly woman is gone. I'm not Dumbledore's biggest supporter," he said carefully, not wanting to tread into dangerous political waters, "but he is loads better than Umbridge. I would have joined the Army just to have something to do during defense lessons. I was bored stiff through the entire year," he said, following her down the stairs.

"It's fine. I'm used to it, though I usually hear the other, more negative side of things. I'm sure you can understand," he said as she opened up the Room of Requirement for them. Huh. A kitchen and a sitting room. He'd never used the Room himself before; he just had known about its existence. He didn't even know where the room was, exactly, only that it was somewhere on the fifth floor. He supposed he knew now, though.

As she made her way into the kitchen, and said something that sounded like she was going to talk about her mother, he glanced at her. Hm. Well... changes, hm? He thought for a moment. After a a few moments' concentrating, a board appeared on the wall, sleek black. "Let's see..." he said, and true to form, his words appeared on the board in elegant green lettering across the board, before wiping itself away a moment later.

"Well, that might make things easier," both him and the board said. With that done, he made his way into the sitting room, glancing around it. He had to say, this room was utterly remarkable.
 
Maggie smiled as Blaise thought up a board within easy view to write down everything he said, similar to the way she'd bewitched her quills. It was nice.

"That's awfully considerate," she commented before continuing to pull out ingredients and get to work.

Eggs, sugar, mascarpone, a nip of rum--of which she stole a tiny sip--she was debating whether to just think up some lady fingers or make them herself. With a shrug she pulled out the ingredients for the delicate cakes. Everything was better homemade in her opinion, even if it took longer. The espresso would need brewing later, but not until everything else had cooled.

"Dad says he's glad I wasn't a squib or anything just because it means I'm gone most of the year," she said as she started mixing together the fluffy cake batter. "Says if I was home year-round instead of just the summer and Christmas, he'd be three times as fat." She chuckled a little as the ingredients came together nicely. Lady fingers didn't take terribly long; she already had the batter made and was pouring them into a mold before the oven had even pre-heated. "'Course, I shudder to think how Peter eats when I'm gone. Oh ah...my little brother. He's eight, and not looking forward to having to live up to what my teachers expect from me." She smiled good-naturedly and shrugged as she put the pan in the oven and set a vibrating timer to put into her pocket.
 
As she spoke, her words also appeared on the board in a lighter blue color, rather similar to her own eyes. It was more curved rather than spiky, as his was. Blaise was rather pleased at the board. He was still going to have to learn sign language sometime soon. It was something he could pick up during spare study time. It wasn't as if he had to spend a whole lot of time on his various classes.

He watched as she set to cooking, and he thought for a moment. He made his way over to a pantry that had already been there, and opened the door. Indeed, there it was; a bottle of fine Italian wine. The sort he'd had since he was rather young; always a glass with dinner. He pulled it out, finding it more chill than he had been expecting it to be. My, this room thought of everything, didn't it? Or... rather, he did?

He pulled down a few glasses, pouring them each one and leaving the other within reach for her as he took a small sip of his. "I'm looking forward to trying some of your cooking, then," he said. As she spoke of a little brother, he found himself leaning up against the sink, idly sipping at his drink. "I never did learn how to cook, myself. My family has a house elf; his name's Ponder. A darn good chef, considering."
 
"My dad never did believe in keeping house elves," Maggie said with a shrug, patting at herself to find that she didn't have any pockets. She'd forgotten she was wearing a dress. The little timer had to be slipped into her bra instead; she didn't mind, she just didn't want the cakes to burn. "We had one, when I was very young. But ah...he's long gone now." There was very obviously something she was hiding and she shifted uncomfortably.

"Anyway, I wouldn't want one now. I'm too particular about how the house is kept. Whenever I come home, Dad and Peter've destroyed it and I spend a week at least putting it back together." She smiled uncomfortably and leaned against a counter near Blaise. She had been surprised to find that he had poured them some wine; she had never really drunk alcohol, just a sip or two here and there when she was cooking or her dad wasn't looking. She took her glass by the stem and sipped it delicately.

"Mm...thank you. That was a good idea." She seemed a bit more at ease as her train of thought wandered away from her home life and keeping Blaise from it. "You seem to know your way around a bottle..." she winced, "that...came out sounding terrible. I hope you know what I meant." It had sounded to her like she was calling him a drunk; she hadn't been. She knew what drunks were like and it wouldn't have been a casual remark in friendly conversation if he was one.
 
"Well, Ponder's been very good to us over the years," he said distantly. His mother was a bit of a socialite and his fathers... or rather, step-fathers never stuck around too terribly long. Either a House Elf or a housekeeper would be a given, and the former was generally a good bit more reliable. He noticed easily when it seemed she was hiding something, though he didn't press her about it. He would find out later, he was sure.

"I thought so. And I know what you meant. We always kept wine in the house when I was growing up, and I would have a glass with dinner. I do rather know my way around them, though. We only ever had the finest," he said with a note of pride as he took a sip of his wine.

"Enjoy it, though. It appears to be a Bertolini. A very good vineyard. Runs a bit sweeter than most, which isn't a bad thing. Good body," he said with a small smile.
 
"I've got a wicked sweet tooth, so it suits me just fine," Maggie answered with a small, nervous smile. The topic change had turned against her into a frying pan-fire situation as Blaise talked about the vineyard and quality of the wine.

"We...never really kept much wine around, but I know my way around a bottle of Stoli," she said honestly, "and of course a man's best friends: Jim, Jack, Johnnie, and Jameson. Not to forget 'the good Captain.'" Maggie winced again and took a sip to hide her discomfort. There it was, and now he would ask and the night would take a turn for the worse.

There was about a thirty second pause before the timer went off. She jumped a little and set her glass down to dig it out of her bra and turn it off before pulling out an oven mitt and taking the lady fingers out of the oven. They were light and airy; perfect. She set them on the counter to cool a bit before sticking them in the fridge so she wouldn't warp the pan. Wordlessly she started getting the coffee ready, waiting for any sort of dreaded question Blaise might ask.
 
"I'll keep that in mind," he said. He was learning new things about her all the time. He couldn't explain why he was initially drawn to her. Maybe it had been just her sweet nature. The fact that she had been so trusting, even when she shouldn't have been toward him. Initially, his thought might have been "sucker", but she was too bright for that. It honestly felt bad to mislead her. It was like kicking a puppy that was just looking to be patted on the head, albeit not that condescending of course.

"Hm, is that so? I can't say that we ever kept harder liquors around the house. No, I tell a lie. We did used to keep Scotch for one of my mother's paramours, but I was never let near it. Brown liquor always did smell something foul to me." And that was it. No uncomfortable questions. No accusations. Just polite conversation.

He did watch with some amount of interest as he dug into the front of her dress to retrieve the timer. But then his gaze was on the oven as she retrieved the light and fluffy dessert, before moving onto the coffee.

It wasn't that he didn't notice. It was just that he had drug the evening down so far that evening... and there ere some things he could tell that were on her mind, but she didn't want to talk about. He was more tactful than all that; he would have hoped the same about her asking after his own family life. It was no great secret that he'd had six step-fathers. The why was the talk of the nobles at times. Occasionally with the term "black widow" being bandied about.

He took a step toward her as she labored in silence however, and he reached out to set his hands on her hips. His glass lay off to the side, entirely drained of its contents. "Everything alright?" he asked politely.
 
Maggie watched Blaise's words appear in spikey green on the board then disappear. She jumped when his hands rested on her hips, then visibly relaxed again and closed her eyes. She pulled off the oven mitt and shook her head.

"No, it's nothing. It's...I never drink it myself, that's all."

Mentally she begged him to understand, but stayed silent. Taking a deep breath, Maggie closed her eyes again and leaned back into Blaise's chest. It felt nice, to be able to lean on someone. She chewed the inside of her lip as she placed her hands gently over his.

"You're comfortable," she said simply before reaching for her glass of wine and taking a few more sips.

Maggie knew she had a very low tolerance for most alcohols and so planned on drinking this one glass very slowly, if she even finished this one, good as it was. She was short and on the thinner side of average, and didn't drink much; not a very good combination with a glass of wine. Or any alcohol, really.
 
"I only drink wine. It's my preference, I have to say," he said, glancing down as she leaned back against her chest, feeling her soft, smaller form press against a body toned by vanity and an interest in Quidditch. As her hands landed on his own, his hands slid across her hips toward her stomach, resting there as her hands laid on top of his own.

"Well, I'm glad I could perform an admirable service as a wall," he said with a low chuckle that gently rocked his arms and by extension her form. Idly, his hands took to roaming her, just across her stomach and her sides. She was pleasingly fit underneath the dress, which wasn't something that had previously gone unnoticed. For all his vanity, it was telling that she passed all of his... "qualifications" with flying colors.

"You're not too bad yourself," he said softly, leaning over to settle his chin on top of her head. He didn't lean in to sniff, but he could smell her hair from here. She even smelled quite nice to him.
 
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