Chandler Warrington (chasing_war) wrote in verit_aserum,
Chandler Warrington
chasing_war
verit_aserum

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Who: Blaise et Chandler

What: Blaise is a murderer. Chandler is a stalker. It's a match made in ... Azkaban.

 

Blaise heard the noise level rise considerably as he sat in the Library, reading over his notes for Transfiguration. Looking towards the door, he stretched a bit before gathering up his books and walking outside. With his eyes focused on the ground, stooping slightly, he made his way through the crowd, most of whom were going the opposite way: away from the Great Hall. He was going towards there, however, intending to grab a bit of dinner before heading back to the Slytherin Commons for a while. He maneuvered through the dense crowd in his usual docile manner, ignoring the jostling and bumps from fellow students as he walked.

Chandler had just exited the Slytherin commons, and began up the stairs, his intentions quite similar. Grab something to eat quickly, and hurry back to his dorm to get more studying done. He stood up straight, adjusting his bag to fit tightly enough over his shoulder, and peeked down the corridor when he reached the foot of the staircase that led to the dungeon. A few metres away he spotted a familiar stature - tall and slumping, with his hair falling in his eyes. Chandler smirked and stealthily started after the Blaise - it seemed they were both headed in the same direction anyway.

Blaise entered the Great Hall, sitting at the end of the long, deserted Slytherin table. He grabbed a small plate of food for himself, and opened up one of his many notebooks, reading over the small, sloppy lettering which only he could seem to decipher. He turned through the pages quickly, devouring his food at the same speed. In about fifteen minutes, he'd finished his food, not bothering to take seconds. Slamming his book shut, he gathered up his belonging and walked outside, blowing the hair out of his eyes as he exited into the Entrance Hall, headed toward the stairs to the dungeons.

Chandler watched as Blaise veered into the Great Hall, momentarily considering whether or not he should still follow through with his own plans. He peered in, noticing that the boy was completely absorbed in his notes. The screwed up and concentrated look on his face caused the Slytherin to cast an amused grin in his direction - he was oblivious to the world at this moment. Chandler slid up to the table, wrapping a few biscuits in a napkin and placing them carefully in his bag, exiting the Great Hall. There he waited outside, running his fingers over 1984 and rereading his favorite sentences. He stayed there until the other boy walked off past him in a huff where he continued his quiet walk after him, playing up this situation and wondering how long it would take for Blaise to noice his presence

Blaise walked to the end of the Entrance Hall, passing the few straggling students hurriedly, hoping to get back to the Slytherin Dormitories for a while before going on his usual nightly stroll. But, in the eerie silence of the dungeons, he realised someone was walking behind him, most likely a fellow Slytherin, seeing as most of the other students belonging to the other Houses tried to avoid the dank corridors at all costs. Though the person hadn't called out his name, he decided to turn around and see who it was anyway. He smirked, noticing the face immediately. "Following me, are you?" he said jokingly, surprised, but not unpleasantly so, that Chandlerhad been behind him.

Chandler forced himself not to call out to Blaise. This way was simply more amusing - entertaining. When he turned around, Chandler took on his usual position, raising an eyebrow and leering up at the taller boy. "Maybe. You're a queer one when you're immersed in your own business." He stepped forward, and held his book out to Blaise, biting his lip slightly. "You were right. Amazing. I'd like it very much if you could lend me another."

"I am? How so?" Blaise queried, chuckling a bit. Shifting his rather large pile of books to his other arm, he nodded, knowing the boy would undoubtedly be impressed by the book he'd let him borrow. "Of course I was right," he said with a smile, "Glad you enjoyed it. I've more in the Dorms," he gestured for Chandler to follow him.

Chandler smirked, speeding his pace to walk by Chandler's side. "Well for one, you seemed completely unmindful to the fact that I was right behind you." He chuckled softly, deciding to leave out the bit about the undivided expression he made. "Lead the way, monsieur." He looked forward to another book Blasie could lend him, as he could honestly say that the last one was the first leisurely read he'd thoroughly enjoyed. "It really was brilliant, though ..." He rubbed his chin. "Not quite what it takes to make me <i>rebellious.</i>"

Blaise shrugged, chuckling once more. "I get pretty involved in the task at hand. Or my destination... It's a bit hard to get my attention," he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. He walked down the corridor, and stopped at the Portrait Hole, mumbling the password and entering into the crowded Common Room. "Yes," he said rather loudly through the din, "It's one of my favourites. Orwell's a genius. I'll lend you another one of his..." Blaise's voice trailed off and he looked around uneasily at the students, checking to see if Pansy was anywhere. Not seeing anyone he recognised or cared to wave to, he started towards the Boys' Dormitories. Once he and Chandler were in the quiet again, he turned to him with a smirk. "I'd wonder what <i>could</i> take to make you rebellious. A few Potions or Charms at the very least..." he said wryly.

Chandler followed his company contentedly until they reached the crowded common room. "Very good. I was hoping to read another by that author." He frowned at the noise level and found the quiet of the Dormatory come over him like a soothing wave. He sighed, and pulled his hangings over, so that his bed was visible to the dormatory - a rare occasion. He sat down and eyed Blaise mischievously. "Planning to drug me, eh? I sure hope for my own sake you didn't retain any knowledge of those Unforgivable curses that <i>oddball</i> taught us last year." He rolled his eyes, looking away for a moment and running his teeth along his lower lip, a sign that he was concentration. "Oh, I don't know. I have a feeling it'll take something different. Something <b>more.</b>"

Blaise walked over to his bed, dumbing his books carelessly at the foot of his bed. He was tired of looking at them. Blaise jumped onto his bed, whose hangings were open as he had left them that morning, and leaned over the edge, reaching beneath the hanging green covers. After feeling around a bit, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth ever so slightly, he pulled out a rather large oaken box which looked as if it were as old as the school itself. Blaise removed the cover, revealing many volumes of paperback Muggle novels, and began to sift through them. As he looked for the book he intended to give to Chandler, he said mischievously, "Yes, that was my plan all along: to drug you and make you into a standard authority hating rebel who will <i>not</i> sit up straight <i>or</i> carry a handkerchief. Or shower every day, for that matter." Finding the book, he dusted off the cover a bit and handed it to his Housemate. "Here. It's called Animal Farm," Blaise paused, and sneezed a few times from the dust that had made it's way out from under the bed along with the box. He sniffed and looked back up curiously, "More, eh?"

Chandler watched the boy in genuine curiosity as he went through his whole procedure of retreiving the books. He really was an interesting specimin, Blaise Zabini. He noted the particular way he seemed to devise of doing this, and found he didn't even mind the slight coat of dust on the book he was handed. He turned it over and read the summary. "Mr. Zabini, I have the strange feeling that is exactly what you're trying to do. Though I sure hope even witht he anarcist you are that you <i>bathe</i> once a day. " He chuckled, shaking his head. "But this one seems just as interesting." Chandler looked up abruptly as he sneezed, putting the book down on the floor - lest any dust make it's way onto his sheets - and retrieved a few tissues. He eyed the floor warily, before giving in and sitting down, balancing himself on his knees. He held the tissue up to Blaise. "Sorry, but you took my good handkercheif." He smirked. "And yes, <i>much</i> more."

"Of course I bathe once a day," Blaise said in a strange, almost sarcastic tone as he accepted the tissues from Chandler, pausing a moment to use them, "But if I were to drug you, I'd make sure to add a little something in there that'd dampen your urge to wash yourself, just for entertainment's sake," he finished, smirking. He tossed the tissues onto a table by his bed, and looked back to Chandler with a quirked eyebrow, "I'm almost <i>frightened</i> to know how much more, exactly. I'm sure it's nothing no human could accomplish," he grinned widely, chuckling, "Oh, and you'll have your handkerchief back soon. I've given it to one of the House Elves to wash. That is, if you think they're cleaning will be sufficient enough to wipe away any contaminants I might have."

Chandler laughed, for once not tracking the precise landing area of the dirtied tissue and focusing on Blaise. "Well, I'll just have to be careful what I eat and drink around you then. Though I doubt you'd have the time to focus on stealthily drugging me, having personally witnessed the vigor with which you eat." He smirked, sticking his tongue out a little. "Maybe a human could accomplish it. Afterall, I've been overall disappointed in the human race all my life, but it seems to be surprising me as of late." He raised his brows momentarily, rising slowly and removing his robes. He hung them carefully over his bedpost and sat down on his bed, eyeing a spot on his tie and beginning to rub at it furiously. "That thing? Keep it." He said idly, still focusing on his tie, knitting his brows together.

Blaise raised his eyebrows, rather surprised that the boy had been around him that long and he had failed to notice him, feeling slightly embarrassed. He didn't enjoy being seen by people during mealtimes. Turning a bit pink, he said, "You were following me for all that time? I daresay you're a stalker, Chandler. Though I would be scared to approach myself during mealtimes as well. I have rather... <i>strange</i> eating habits." He laughed nervously, picking at a jagged edge on one of his nails. Blaise's brow furrowed at Chandler's second comment, wondering for a moment who he could be talking about. "Well not all members of the human race are bad. Just...most are," he said, smirking as he watched the boy try to rid his tie of a spot that Blaise couldn't seem to see. "If you insist. Probably better that way; I wouldn't want to pass on my diseases," he added jokingly.

Chandler looked up momentarily just to catch the blush in Blaise's cheeks, smirking. "I would have approached but I must admit watching you go about in your own little world was too much fun." He returned his attention to his tie, groaning at the spot. "But if you'd rather I say it's because I was afraid you'd eat me as well, then I will." He grinned to himself, taking the tie off and lying it on his bed, hoping that the House Elves would be able to get that stain out. He went to his trunk and pulled out a neatly folded set of casual clothes to change into. "You know, Blaise. I'm getting worried." he took a few steps toward the bathroom, looking back toward him. "Already I've leaned my friend wishes to drug me, and has various diseases to boot." He realized soon that he'd actually vocalized the word "friend" - but found he didn't mind so much.

Blaise smirked confusedly, cocking his head to the side. With a little laugh, he asked, "Am I really that entertaining?" He laughed more heartily at Chandler's observation. "Yes, you should be very, <i>very</i> worried and frightened. Not to mention my diseases happen to be highly contagious. And for the <i> record</i> I've no intention of drugging you, I was simply stating what it would take to make you rebellious, and how it would be quite humourous. Though now that you've mentioned it..." Blaise let his voice trail off, grinning deviously.

"Well, put it this way." Chandler leaned against the doorway tothe bathoom. "You're the most entertainment within a person I've ever seen." Chandler smirked, quirking a brow. He placed his clothes inside the bathroom, pulling the door behind him, but not quite shutting it. "Well contagious doesn't matter. You have that handkercheif and -" He waves his hands in the air. "I've yet to touch you." He stepped behind the door, peering his head out one last time. He made a mock-frown, pointing his wand at his trunk and muttering a spell, watching it slam shut and lock. "For good measure. Just so you don't lace my clothing with posison or anything." He smirked one last time and gave a wave, shutting the door behind him.

"Just close the door and wait til you see what you find on your clothing," Blaise said michievously, getting up and pretending to rub something onto Chandler's robes. As the boy disappeared into the bathroom, he shook his head and smiled, watching as the Dormitories began to fill with people ready to go to sleep. Turning to leave, he headed out into the dungeons, the smile lingering on his face for a long while to come.

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