ON HIATUS

"From where I'm sitting, I'm the centre of the Universe." || Multi era semi selective Harry Potter Roleplay account. Main age is 20. Mun is 18+. Please read guidelines before interacting.  

[7thweasley-deactivated20150707]

She cocks her head sideways, trying to figure out why he’s talking to her about flowers. Does he think this is a date or something? “It’s no problem,” she says a little confused. It’s not like she had a strict timeline or anything. “Dinner’s ready but it’s just cooling. Take your shoes off, I’ll show you around.” She’s barefoot herself.

Ginny waits for him to kick off his shoes and set them with the others arranged so nicely around the hearth. She walks into the dining room that’s attached and sets the wine on the table. With a flick of her wand two glasses float out and fill up on the table to lie in wait for their return.

A long hallway sits between the living room and the kitchen. She takes him to the left and shows him her two guest rooms. They’re both made up but empty and clearly less lived in than the rest of the house.

After she takes him the opposite way, passing by the kitchen to follow the long hallway down to her master bedroom. Her bedroom is large. A four poster king-sized bed is in the center of the room against the wall. Most of the far wall is taken up by a huge vanity with makeup and earrings and bracelets and necklaces all laid out like a department store display. A large sliding glass door is nestled against the same wall, looking out onto the huge grounds her house sits on.

A small hallway in her bedroom leads to the walk-in closet and master bathroom, though she doesn’t take him in there. She’s not sure why she’s so eager to show off to him, but she is. She wants to rub his nose in the fact that she’s seen success.

[portraitofanegotist]

He leans down to untie his shoes and lets her place them next to the others. "I'll make it up to you somehow." It isn't like him to show up unprepared for a date, even if he wasn't exactly thrilled to go on it. 

Blaise follows her throughout her home, genuinely impressed by the picturesque, homely cottage.  It's certainly no manor, but he's happy he isn't eating dinner in a slum. As they walk to her master bedroom and he peers inside, he wonders whether or not she intends on revisiting that room later that night.

"It's a lovely place. Certainly an upgrade." Fortunately, he never got the opportunity to visit the infamous Burrow, but he's heard stories. 

[7thweasley-deactivated20150707]

"I’m not being sappy." She rolls her eyes, because she’s over his theatrics. "If you would stop being so dramatic, I could have both." 

[portraitofanegotist]

"I'm not waiting around for you. Tell me right now, is this ever going to be anything, or am I wasting my time?"

[ohwhataparadise]

Scotch.

[7thweasley-deactivated20150707]

She smiles sadly at him, because she knows what this is like. “I’ll still be here. Always.”

[portraitofanegotist]

"Cut the sappy bullshit." This is bad enough as it is, he doesn't need to hear any sickening, wannabe Romeo and Juliette dialogue. "You're going to regret this, when all you've got in your life is your 'career'." 

[7thweasley-deactivated20150707]

His words sting, but she wants to believe he doesn’t mean them. “Don’t be like that, Blaise. I thought you knew this was casual.”

[portraitofanegotist]

He did, and it was, until he slipped up and got attached. "Maybe it's best if we just part ways."

[7thweasley-deactivated20150707]

She licks her lips and tucks her hair behind her ear. “I used to think that, too, but…” she’s not sure how to continue because she doesn’t have a real reason.

"I want to focus on my career. You’ve just started yours, I know you can understand that." It’s a thin excuse.

[portraitofanegotist]

He's embarrassed that she doesn't feel the same way he does, then it begins to bubble over into anger and he lashes out. "You led me on, you slut! Don't ever come by my house, or write to me again."

[portraitofanegotist]

You can't fall in love with me.

"I…" He’s flustered, his his cheeks burn up. He hadn’t expected a reaction quite like this. "Why not? After all we’ve been through, I half expected it to turn out this way, didn’t you?" 

[portraitofanegotist]

"You can't fall in love with me."

The words cut deep, but he wasn’t going to let her know that. He composed himself quickly to save face.”Parkinson, you’re a nice girl, and you’ve got a decent body, but I know I could do better than settle for you.”  

[portraitofanegotist]

You can't fall in love with me.

"Don’t worry about it, Plain-face, I’d sooner shag my own mother than fall in love with you."

[thisisrpstuff]

Send "You can't fall in love with me." for my muse's reaction.

[illumin-audie]

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Make Her Say (feat. Kanye West & Common) | KiD CuDi

[cunt-crusader]

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[portraitofanegotist]

cunt-crusader:

I want to be every button you press And all the baths that surround you Yes I’m gonna roll around you Like a cat rolls around saw dusted patios I’m gonna kiss you Like the sun browns you

[clevernessnbooks]

It was ten minutes before she needed to be up that Hermione Granger’s chocolate brown eyes fluttered open to be greeted by the still-dark new day. The witch only allowed herself a few short seconds to acclimate herself to her new-found wakefulness. Hermione’s eyes flitted toward the Muggle alarm clock that sat on a nightstand next to her bed. It read 4:40 while it’s soft glow illuminated the shape of her wand that lay in front of it. She could have stayed there in bed and allowed herself to fall in and out of sleep for ten more minutes but she never got the chance to consider it. Grogginess would not put a stopper on her excitement today — a day she had been waiting for since last Monday. The day before she had resolved to not allow herself to go to her bedroom with a book in hand. A tactic that would ensure she was well-rested and not distracted for just ‘one more chapter,’ so really it was no surprise that she had woken up a bit early. Her morning routine went on without so much as a hitch — she did as much as she could get done the night before, showering, laying out her clothes, etc., to avoid any timing conflicts. The only somewhat difficult task left would be taming her hair, something she now took care to do each morning — it added to her professional appearance.

"Yeah, I’m just here a bit early so I’ll be heading to my office now too," she told a co-worker as they had excused themselves to start shift. A bit was an understatement as the pair had chatted for nearly 15 minutes before parting ways and Hermione still had 30 more minutes until the new-hires were supposed to be arriving. The bookish witch’s office was exactly what you’d expect, neat and orderly with a touch professional decor. Though the room was already pristine, Hermione went about ‘straightening it up,’ so that it was presentable. It wasn’t until she had double checked for any place she may have missed while dusting, and all of the books were upright on their shelf before Hermione finally clapped her hands together and allowed herself a quick peek at the clock.

There was still about 15 minutes left before the new-hire. While dusting her desk she had set down some paperwork on one of the arm chairs and had forgotten to return it after so she went to do so now and when she did she fully intended on reading them over. Even if they weren’t intended for her. Hermione was quickly distracted from scanning over the words written on the parchment by suddenly remembering that she wanted to have tea ready to pour. She hurried to the opposite side of the office, parchment still in-tow until she reached her destination, and added water to a tea kettle that had been charmed to self-heat. While Hermione waited she set out two teacups and allowed herself to get lost in her thoughts, most of them consisted of what training the new-hire would be like and what kind of things she’d say when giving explanations but she also briefly entertained the idea of being regarded as a ‘cool boss.’  A few moments later the kettle whistled and startled her, causing her train of thought to become temporarily derailed. It was with a careful touch that the witch lifted the kettle and began pouring tea slowly into the first cup while she wasted no time at all going back to could-bes and what-ifs. For instance, should she call them by first or last name? Actually, what was their name? Curious eyes wandered back to the parchment that she had set down before starting the tea. She quickly scanned over the words on the first page only stopping when she came upon the words “Zabini, Blaise.” 

Hermione could feel every drop of excitement draining out of her, or perhaps that was the tea that she had yet to stop pouring into one very over-filled tea cup. In fact, the witch didn’t notice what she had been doing until she heard the soft pattering of liquid hitting the rug below. She didn’t even have time to curse herself under her breath before there was a knock at the door. She really wanted to say ‘oh no, please come back later,’ but instead… "Come in!"

[portraitofanegotist]

His black Oxfords tapped impatiently against the marble floor, while he watched the second hand inch across the face of his watch. Blaise had left his manor nearly forty-five minutes earlier than he needed, making sure he had enough time to take every possible route to the Ministry in case his usual floo network was under construction, out of order, or held up. Thankfully things went better than he had hoped, and within only a few moments he had made it to his destination, leaving him an extra forty minutes to pace the hallways. The wizard wasn't usually the anxious or worried type- at least admittedly- in fact he was known for being quite the opposite. But this was the Ministry of Magic, and he knew his first impression would determine his entire career with the Ministry from here on out. His usual attitude wouldn't fly if he expected his new boss to like him. He needed to be charming without being sleazy, confident but not cocky, and work hard without coming across as over-ambitious. Not being used to having to rely on himself to get what he wanted, the adjustment was already proving difficult. 

With less than five minutes until he was to walk into that office and shake hands with the man who would decide his fate, he leaned next to the door frame, taking notice of the delicate name plate on the door he had overlooked earlier. H. Granger.  Blaise's eye went wide and he felt as though his stomach dropped. Was it too late to go home? There was no way in hell he'd last ten minutes in this place working for the broad he had spent most of his school years bullying. He was torn between anger, for having to work not only with but under someone he despised, and fear that she would take one look at him and slam the door in his face. This changed everything... but he still needed this position. He reminded himself it was only temporary as he took a deep breath, then rapped his knuckles against the door. After she called to walk in, he turned the handle and slowly opened the door, a fake smile creasing his face.

"Ms. Granger," He held his hand out to her as he crossed the room towards her. "Pleasure." 

[7thweasley-deactivated20150707]

If she’s gonna eat alone she might as well drink alone, right? The counter separating the dining room from the kitchen also doubles as a wine shelf, and Ginny pulls out an old red vintage wine that her parents gave her when she first moved in. It’s nothing high shelf, but it’s very nice for wizards of her parents’ status.

Ginny has just pulled it down when she hears him call out. She comes out with the bottle still in her hand and brightens when she sees him. He came after all. “Hey! Nice to see you. Come in. Do you want the tour before or after dinner?”

[portraitofanegotist]

It's a nice place, cozy with a certain warmth to it. Given the place she grew up, he's pleasantly surprised by her home. He watches her pull down the wine bottle and hopes to Merlin she hasn't had anything to drink drink yet. 

"Uh, before dinner, I suppose? Unless you've got everything ready, I am a little late." He checks his watch, only twenty minutes. "I would have brought you flowers, but I was a little rushed after work."

[portraitofanegotist]

Jealousy.

She probably didn’t even watch Quidditch, the bimbo. How did she get her hands on box seats? "Well, I was going to go- I could probably sit in the Minister’s box if I pulled the right strings, but I’m just so busy…" He digs his hands in his pockets, crumpling the front row tickets he had picked up earlier that day. There’s no way he’d be seen at the game now. 

[gunslinger-radio]

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[portraitofanegotist]

gunslinger-radio:

Boys of Summer - Don Henley

"I never will forget those nights I wonder if it was a dream Remember how you made me crazy? Remember how I made you scream Now I don’t understand what happened to our love But babe, I’m gonna get you back I’m gonna show you what I’m made of”

[7thweasley-deactivated20150707]

Ginny makes sure the house is nice and in order in case Blaise decides to come. She’s dressed casually but nicely in a dark relaxed tee and some lighter leggings. Her toenails and fingernails are painted green and gold alternating. She’s left her hair down and let it dry naturally.

This week has been good. She went and visited her mum and dad, saw George at his shop, had lunch with Ron, and got wasted with Hermione and Persephone. It’s almost like she has a social life again.

Ginny’s leaning over her kitchen counter, smelling the delicious dinner she’s made tonight. Her eyes wander over to the open hearth in her living room. She figures he must not be coming, and it’s too bad because she’s in such a relaxed and happy mood.

[portraitofanegotist]

Blaise spends his day debating whether or not he should bother with this... what was it, exactly? After she confessed her 'love' for him only a few nights prior, he's not entirely convinced this is just dinner between two 'friends'. He's worried she might bring it up again, and now that she's sober, he won't have an excuse to ignore it. On the other hand, he doesn't have any other plans for dinner and it's been a while since he's had a home-cooked meal. 

He's changed into something a little better suited for a casual date than his usual business suits; a white, checkered oxford with sleeves rolled to his elbow, fitted navy trousers, and a caramel belt that matches his brogues. He tosses a handful of floo powder into the hearth and watches as his fireplace fills with emerald flames. He steps in, clearly pronouncing the address of her cottage before he's whisked off. 

After the short trip, he mutters a spell to clean any soot from his clothes and shoes before stepping out. "Ginny?"