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The written life of Blaise Zabini [entries|friends|calendar]
Blaise Fagan Zabini

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[09 Jun 2005|02:44am]
Summer Holiday plans: zero.

Well, that is unless Father decides I'm a bastard child. Then...

Summer Holiday plans: relocating.

[Private to Tracey]
Feel like kissing a traitor tonight?
I'm being cheeky. I know.
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Italics Private to Tracey, Adrian and Theo [17 May 2005|03:18am]
[ mood | confused ]

I didn't know that my actions were going to be blown out of proportion! I've got half of Slytherin hating me and the rest of the school loves me. All day people have been saying thank you and nodding at me. A RAVENCLAW TRIED TO GIVE ME A HIGH FIVE!!
I didn't ask for this.
Why can't the whole school go back to ignoring me again!
I'm not ashamed of what I didn't, but I didn't ask for this attention.

If I see Malfoy go and run to another Professor, I swear...
You want people to treat you like a man, you take your punishment for your actions like one!
Own up.

[Private to self]
At least I have some people treating me the same.
Well, for the most part. My face smashed against a bookcase was a bit out of the ordinary.
I'm trying to keep a sense of humor throughout this. At least Tracey's helping.
She makes the whole thing seem less dramatic.
I need to get some rest.

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Italics Private [15 May 2005|01:46am]
[ mood | drained ]

There is nothing to say. I don't see the need to defend my actions. I did what I believed needed to be done. That is that.

If it means I have no friends in Slytherin to speak of. So be it.
Wouldn't be a change from the ordinary.
Won't Father be proud.

Funny word, traitor.

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[10 May 2005|12:28am]
[ mood | bored ]

I am bored.
And the people in this school are not helping.

So I've decided to take up relentless wit.
It's cheaper than firewhiskey.

Observe: Inter-house unity.
Punch-line: Zach and Susan
Zach and Su Li
Zach and Snape

Only Gryffindor left to go Zach! Keep up the good work!

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[25 Mar 2005|11:53am]
Are you proud of yourself Father? Are you? Supporting murderers?
Sometimes I think I was born from the wrong seed. Bastard.
He's positively enthralled.

My deepest condolences.

Slytherins, I hope all are safe and well.
4 comments|post comment

[10 Mar 2005|08:46pm]
[ mood | annoyed ]

This has been quite the eventful week.
Maybe not.

My back hurts. I think it's from my mattress. It's lumpy.
And Goyle has gas. I believe I'm going to be avoiding the room for a bit.
Rotten eggs with vineger and moldy jalapeno salsa at 350 degrees.
I'm going to vomit.

Tomorrow. Riding. All day long. I need some fresh air.
Cleanse my lungs.

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[22 Feb 2005|07:18am]
[ mood | anxious ]

My NEWT classes have certainly been keeping my time more than occupied this semester. Constantly something to do.

Right, not by choice. With that trollop Edgecombe always around, Pukey doesn't have time for anything anymore. Surprised he even bothers to show up for practises.
I warned him about Ravenclaw girls. Nothing but trouble. Nothing but annoying know-it-all trouble.

I refuse to stoop to his level and go drolling at the heels of some immature little girl, who's only purpose, this point in her life it to giggle and put on lip gloss.

Fat fucking chance.

In fact, I pity him.

This room is beginning to look smaller.

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Italics veiwable to Adrian [09 Jan 2005|11:22pm]
[ mood | annoyed ]

Bloody bitch. I can not stand self righteous little girls.
She acts as though I molested her. Everyone saw, she was just as into the situation as I.
She was just going on about it to save her own sweet little ass in front of Smith.

Stupid little girl.

This was all highly blown out of proportion.

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Italics veiwable to Adrian [03 Jan 2005|04:11am]
[ mood | drained ]

Firewhiskey has an interesting effect on me.
Great party, Smith.
School tomorrow. Lovely distraction.

Drown myself in my studies. Sounds like the most appropriate plan.

I never expected to enjoy her company. Not just for the physical contact, but her presence was comforting. A wonderful way to turn a rather dissapointing Christmas around.
She's a splendid kisser.

It was the alcohol. Nothing more.

15 comments|post comment

[08 Nov 2004|02:40pm]
[ mood | contemplative ]

Bloody fuck.

I really have nothing more to say about the entire situation. All I can think is that I must have been pranked by my own house.
How utterly degrading.

I have seen a trend of people apologizing for their actions at the ball.
I would do just that, if Parvati appeared to be effected by the event.
She has yet to speak to me, however, since the incident, so I see no need to do any apologizing.

I really have no regrets anyway.

It must be said, however, that I did enjoy myself greatly that night.
I've never done that before.
There it was said. I had never snogged a girl until the night of the ball. And I am now wondering why I waited so long to do it. I'm not sure if Parvati was the best choice for my first snog, but she was quite good at it. I have no complaints about that, I must say.

It was...invigorating to say the least.
As if something I had been ignoring for sometime, had been discovered.

I'm not saying it is now my idea to go around snogging every girl I come in contact with, for that would never do. But I really must stop looking past girls, when I find them attractive. Or thinking of girls as a distraction.

I mean, its not entirely impossible to manage both a sexual self and an inner self.
Is it?

After all was said and done.
I believe it turned out to be a wonderful evening.

2 comments|post comment

[02 Nov 2004|12:57am]
[ mood | content ]

So I went to the dance even though I didn't have a date. I figured I might as well make a fool of myself. All of the girls looked quite nice indeed. Pansy was looking spectacular as always. Always did have a problem keeping my eyes off that one. It is a bloody shame she is tangled with Malfoy. Waste of time if you ask me.

Tracey, love, you looked absolutely radiant as well. Quite a flower I must say.

The list goes on of course, but the one girl whom caught my interest was Parvati. All this time if I thought either of the twins were even close to my type, it would be Padma. But I must say, she is far too conceited for my liking. You see, I like a much more...generous girl.

You see Parvati looked quite...suggestive in her gown. Amazingly beautiful, but suggestive.

Not to sound too self absorbed myself, but I really do think I'm a much more...enjoyable date then Crabbe and Goyle. So I took it into my own hands to rectify that.

Cut for the youngins. Under 5th year...beware.Collapse )

Perfectly wonderful evening in all.

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[11 Oct 2004|09:46am]
[ mood | annoyed ]

This Inter-house Unity Ball is quite a peice of work.
Costumes, dancing, and designated dates...Mmmm sounds like fun.

9 comments|post comment

[20 Sep 2004|12:10pm]
[ mood | amused ]

Beauxbatons was attacked and I made the Quidditch team. My this is shaping up to be quite a lovely week...

I wish I could be more sympathetic toward those who have lost someone at Beauxbatons, but then again I'm sure they are receiving enough pity.

I'm pondering whether or not to inform Father that I made the Quidditch team. Somehow I feel he will find far too much satisfaction in the fact that I did exactly what he intended me to do.

Although, If I hadn't made the team, I would have been quite infuriated. I had ten times the skill those blokes on sticks had. But where exactly did I acquire said skill. The broom maybe? It is a masterpiece of ingenuity. Then again, I've always done rather well in flying class, but never thought of myself as a natural. I've never played the game in my life. I had to read up on it before the try-outs just to know what the precise rules were.

Leave it to me to find the answers to a physical activity in a book. This whole endeavor could prove rewarding, however, catch the attention of some certain professors, perhaps.

Dreadfully sorry to all those whom lost someone. Horrible tragedy.

6 comments|post comment

[13 Sep 2004|12:21pm]
[ mood | calm ]

Bloody git, Pucey. Let it go.

Adrian wants me to try out for the Quidditch team. Says I'm wasting a good broom. At first I was completely against the idea, but now I'm starting to consider it. What the hell else do I have to do with my time? Theres only so many times I can re-read the Arithmacy chapter that is due next week.

Maybe I should have been in Ravenclaw. But then again I don't think the criteria includes studying out of complete boredom. I'm pretty sure you have to get some kind of pleasure from it. Maybe the get off on reading...

I have to get out of this room.

[Private to Pucey]
I'll be at your bloody try-outs, Pucey. But I swear to Merlin, if I'm terrible and embarrass myself, be prepared for the beating of a life time.

After all, it is a waste of a perfectly good broom.

16 comments|post comment

[07 Aug 2004|03:56am]
[ mood | indifferent ]

I have now been sixteen for a little over a day. Unfortunately, I still feel exactly the same.

I received a broom as a gift from Father and Grandmother. It is called "The Firebolt". Father informed me that it is one of the best on the market. Wonderful. What the bloody hell am I going to do with this? It has become apparent how little my Father knows his only son. I hardly ride, and if I do, it is for school only. I would much rather have my feet firmly plandted on the ground.

Perhaps Father is in cahoots with Pucey, who's gift consisted of several Quidditch books and a rather amusing self written handout. How could either of them assume I would enjoy Quidditch or flying, when I participate in neither. Granted, I have never tried...but organized sports are barbaric and worthless. I would like to know the significance of flying about and having your head taken off by a bleeding bludger. Pointless.

Grandmother said she had another gift for me. Rarely does she speak to me in such a mild and kind manner, so I became interested. She stated that I would have to wait until the appropriate time to receive it. That I would have to be patient, because gifts such as these are worth the anxiety.

From the secretive tone in her voice, I am suspicious it may relate to my mother. But it is childish to get your hopes up.

Adrian, I do not play Quidditch.

10 comments|post comment

[04 Aug 2004|02:13am]
[ mood | aggravated ]

Received my O.W.L results today. I was actually surprised, my scores were far better then I expected. Father, however, was less then pleased by my Herbology and History of Magic ranks. Supposedly I did not apply myself and I will amount to nothing if I continue to be lazy. He believes that in order to learn, knowledge must be beaten into you. So I spent the evening in his study, reciting pages from the "Encyclopedia of Magical and Mundane Plants" while standing unable to move.

Such a pleasant two hours.

Grandmother suggested I send my scores to my mother. I do suppose she would be interested in how I am fairing at school. I doubt, however, that she will even understand the scores. Yet, it has been a long while since we've spoke. I believe the last time I contacted her, was right after the attack. I hope she is well.

The dreaded question was posed upon me today by both Father and Grandmother; what would I like for my birthday?

There is really nothing I wish to have, nor that I need for that matter. I suppose it should be something good. You only turn sixteen once. Father said, it is the age I start becoming a man. But then again, when was I ever a child?

Birthday tomorrow. The excitement it unbearable.

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[19 Jul 2004|08:32pm]
[ mood | irritated ]

It seems my new job at the Zabini Manor is to entertain harlots and their twit daughters.

Father thought it would be a good idea to invite one of his old friends, Mr. Nertuil, over for supper. They attended Hogwarts together, both in Slytherin. He works for the Ministry and Father thought I should converse with him. As is customary, I received a lecture on minding my manners, and making a good impression. Which is pointless, because I always do.

Accompanying Mr. Nertuil, was his new wife and her incompetent daughter, Jesabella. She is a year younger then I, and is being taught magic by a private instructor.

Needless to say,

she was the most horrid and appalling creature I had ever met in my life. Throughout supper, she found it necessary to caress my feet with hers. Whenever her step-father addressed me, she would run her toe along the back of my leg. I attempted to keep composure, but Father could tell I was distracted and not paying full attention to the conversation. He took me aside after the dishes had been cleared and dessert was about to be served. I tried to explain the situation, but he simply wouldn't listen. He told me frankly that if I wanted to impress Mr. Nertuil, I would have to win his new family.

I agreed, and forced myself to smile across the table at her during dessert. It was then that Mrs. Nertuil raved about how charming I was and how Jessabella and I "must get together sometime. A rendezvous in Hogsmeade would be simply lovely!". After coffee father suggested Jessabella and I take a walk through the gardens. I relented, and offered my arm to take the girl for a stroll.

She was repulsive talking about her hair, her clothing and attempting to take hold of my hand. The night ended not a moment too soon.

I was less then fond of her.

But for some reason, she kept me up all night. Not by the possibility of attraction, but because of the total lack of. She was by no means unattractive. She had beautiful long blond hair, and was rather shapely for her age. She just had no affect on my what so ever. Well physically I suppose, but her being in my presence repulsed me. I suppose if she hadn't opened her mouth, things would have been fine.

I need someone to talk to.

4 comments|post comment

[10 Jul 2004|12:02pm]
[ mood | indifferent ]

I've lived in Brecon practically my entire life. The only thing that has ever enthused me about this place, is days like this. There is a light overcast with little or no sun. Yet the air is still warm and moist; your body feels clean, refreshed. Walking around the grounds, my lungs fill and empty, as if they have never taken a breath. And you inhale in this sweet smell of wet grass and moss. Grandmother calls days like this dreary, and depressing. Father often agrees with her. However, its the only time I actually believe I belong somewhere. Not with the people around me, as usual, but that hardly matters.

I have begun reading one of the books Kit has lent me. It is entitled, "The Stranger" by Albert Camus. After completing the first chapter, I began to think. You see there is this Mersault fellow who is poor and loses his mother. She dies at this home for the elderly, which he has sent her to. Thats about all they say in the first chapter.

I never did understand why muggles write all of these books about places and events that do not exist. Are their lives really all that pointless, that they must involve themselves in this fictional world, in order to make their own existence more bearable? And why are there few books such as these written by wizarding folk?

I have gotten off subject. What I've really been thinking about, is my own father. You see this Mersault, does not weep when they dispose of his mother into the ground. Not even a tear. And it occurred to me, that I could not picture myself weeping when my father dies. Of course I have never really thought about his death before, but the idea is very, nonchalant to me. I know little of my father, except the bare facts. I can hardly express any feeling, little lone love for him. Perhaps I am heartless.

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[06 Jul 2004|04:31pm]
[ mood | bored ]

The manor has been bleak the past few days. Normally I wake up to the incessant chirping of birds. It seems however with days as dreary as these, even birds take refuge.

This house has been less then a refuge, more like a...museum. Sounds like a good analogy to me. Yes, a museum, where I walk through the corridors all day and stare at the paintings of my dead ancestors. A place where I have learned all my life, that nothing is to be touched.

Until father returns home and drills me on any given subject. If I know too little of it, I am sent promptly to my room and told to read an un-earthly amount of chapters.

Which reminds me...

Might anyone have any interesting books I could borrow? I'm fresh out of one's I haven't read a hundred times.

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June 30 [30 Jun 2004|03:53pm]
[ mood | anxious ]

It appears I missed, rather slept through, an important event. You see, I had been feeling slightly under the weather all week, and had seldom slept. So what perfect time to get some rest then on the train ride home. So I drank an exceedingly heavy sleeping draught after boarding the train, and was out within minutes. Needless to say, I was rather shocked when I awoke to see all the commotion outside my compartment.

Peering out the window I saw mediwitches tending to battered and bleeding STUDENTS! I opened my compartment door and attempted to snag a confused second year. "What happened?" I demanded. But he only stared at me bewildered and wriggled free from my hold on his cape.

At the end of the corridor, I heard shouts of Death Eaters and an attack. I slumped back into my seat, trying to compose my racing mind.

Upon returning home, father drilled me on everything that had happened. Where I was, what I had done? The only option was to lie. I told him I had guarded a compartment of four or five of my younger house mates. He seemed less then satisfied with this. I believe the word he used was coward.

If only he knew the truth.

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