Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The first time she received an elaborate letter (sender unknown), she was thoroughly confused. Confused was not an emotion she enjoyed having. The letter arrived with a very regal looking owl that turned its nose up at her owl treats. The envelope and paper within were both of the finest quality. She would know, as she also used the same stationary herself. But these inconsequential things were not what confused her, no. It was the contents of the letter itself.

The writer wrote – in very elegant handwriting – brief snippets about his or her childhood. She could not lie and say she did not find the letter charming, because she certainly did. There was one part, a mention of their first time on a broom, that actually had her laughing. They described how they had snuck onto the broom, having not been previously allowed to mount one, and ended up crashing into their mother's prized flowers. The result was a bunch of crushed flowers and a week's punishment.

She had asked everyone in her department if they recognized the handwriting. Her curiosity was killing her, and she wanted to know not only who had sent this letter, but (more importantly) why. A week passed with no results, but then she was startled at her desk by the same owl that delivered the first letter.

Only, this time it had something in addition to the letter.

It was a perfectly wrapped package, rectangular in shape. A book, most likely. She ran a series of spells over it to detect any Dark Magic or Hexes. After it came up as clean, she tore the wrapping off, feeling slightly guilty for ruining such a superb wrapping job. The guilt was quickly overcome by excitement as she stared at the book that was now hers. It was a first edition of Book of Spells by Miranda Goshawk. She had only ever set eyes on this book once, as it was kept in the Restricted Section in the Hogwarts library and was otherwise extremely hard to find.

After the appropriate amount of time oh-ing and ah-ing over the book, she decided to open the letter as well. She was hoping that this one might give her a better clue as to who was behind this. The letter spoke of the sender's home library and how the book had once been housed there. It was clear that they had a love of books, something she clearly shared with them. Unfortunately, the letter did not reveal the identity of the person who sent this lovely present.

She did, however, have a couple of clues. It wasn't much to go on, but the person was obviously a half-blood or pure-blood, given that they had access to a broom at a young age. The second clue was that it was very likely this person was extremely wealthy, if they were able to part with such a rare and expensive book. Which narrowed it down... not at all.

Yet another week later and she was still no closer to finding her mystery present-giver than she was before. She was in her office, re-reading the first letter, when she pushed them away with an irritated sigh.

"What's got your knickers in a twist, Granger?"

"Zabini. Don't you have anything better to do than to come bother me?"

"Nope," he replied, popping the 'p'. She swore he did that on purpose just because he knew it annoyed her.

"Zabini?"

"Yes, Granger?"

"Go away."

"Aww, come on, don't be like that. You know you love it when I visit you. What's wrong? Still can't figure out who sent you that book?"

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.

"How did you know about that?"

"Really? Practically the whole Ministry knows about it. All the witches and even some wizards are sighing over how romantic it is."

"I don't suppose you might have any idea who it is, do you?"

"Granger! I'm shocked! Are you actually asking me for help?"

"What? No! Of course not! Why don't you go bother one of your floozies and leave me alone?"

"You wound me with your harsh words, kitten," he said as he turned to leave her office. She was sure she was mistaken, but there seemed to be a quick second where he almost looked... hurt. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, and surely she was working too hard on this mystery because she was now seeing things. As she watched him leave, she couldn't help but think he was too handsome for his own good. He constantly had women hanging off him as if he was a clothes rack. She didn't care, though, except that her faith in her fellow women often plummeted whenever she saw them acting like dumb twits as soon as they saw him coming.

But it didn't bother her. Nope, not at all.

She winced as her forehead met her desk. Conversations with Zabini always ended in the same way, a headache for her. Harry liked to tease her that it was because she fancied Bla – Zabini. That usually earned him a stinging hex, courtesy of her wand, while he recited something about the Nile not just being a river in Egypt. Prat. What did he know anyway? The man was so clearly oblivious to his own feelings for Malfoy that she was surprised he could see clearly enough to walk two feet forward.

So caught up was she in her musing, that it took her some time to notice that there was an envelope on her desk that had not been there before. She didn't even need to pick it up to tell that it was from her mystery man or woman. Forgoing the detection spells, she quickly opened it, barely containing her excitement. This letter expressed their hopes that she enjoyed the book and told her all about their schooling. Their favorite subject in school had been Ancient Runes (hers too!), and yes, they had gone to Hogwarts. They did not, however, give any indication as to when they attended Hogwarts or what House they had been placed in. She still had no idea who this person could possibly be.

This continued on for weeks, letters arriving every three to four days, sometimes accompanied by gifts as well. It surprised her how much she enjoyed the attention from this nameless person as she never thought herself the type to be taken by a secret admirer. She did have one problem, however (besides not knowing who was sending her the letters and gifts).

She was falling in love with her mystery admirer.

How was this possible? She berated herself every time another letter arrived, and her heart sped up in anticipation. It wasn't possible to love someone you didn't even know, but the problem was that she felt like she did know this person. The letters were full of personal information. Likes, dislikes, thoughts, experiences all inter-woven with the sender's thoughts on herself. At one point, she thought this person might know her better than she knew herself. But if that were true, wouldn't she be able to figure out who it was?

Another week went by and she was torn between being frustrated and flattered by the attention. She had just decided to really amp up her search for answers when she was interrupted.

"Granger."

"Zabini, didn't anyone ever teach you to knock before you come barging into people's offices?"

He didn't answer her; instead he sat in her spare chair and sent her smirk. Why must he look so sexy when he did –

She cut herself off from the direction her brain was going. She clearly needed more sleep. Sighing, she asked, "What do you want, Zabini?"

"Do I need something to visit my favorite girl?"

She could not help the snort that followed his words.

"Pull the other one."

"Okay, you've got me. I did come here for a reason. I wanted to see if you were free for dinner on Friday. Eight o'clock?"

Well. That was... unexpected. She stared at him for a few moments, waiting for him to say he was joking. But he didn't and just stared back at her.

"What? Are you... are you serious?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Obviously flustered by his completely unexpected question, she said nothing and tried to gauge his sincerity.

"I... I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Of course not. Wouldn't want to be seen out with the biggest man-whore ever to leave Hogwarts, right?"

She was surprised at his outburst and the fact that he sounded almost... bitter?

"That's not – "

"Don't bother lying to me, Hermione. I see the look on your face every time you see me talking to a woman. You believe all the rumors, just like everyone else."

Did he just call her Hermione? Just what was going on here?

"Zabini, it's not that, I promise."

"Then why? All I'm asking for is a chance."

"I can't, because it wouldn't be fair to you. I'm in love with someone else."

"You... what? I apologize for bothering you, then. I did not realize you were seeing someone."

Was that disappointment shining in his eyes?

"I'm not... I mean... it's not like that. I don't know..."

Great, now she sounded like a complete moron. Frustrated at her sudden inability to speak clearly, she ran her hands through her hair as she tried to regain coherent speech.

"Who is it, if you don't mind me asking? You've certainly managed to keep it quiet."

"I don't know," she blurted out before she could stop herself. Eyes wide at her slip, she immediately slapped her hands over her mouth.

"What? How can you not know? Wait. Does this have anything to do with those letters you've been receiving?"

"Uh... no?"

At her non-convincing answer, he suddenly started laughing. Loudly. She narrowed her eyes at him, prepared to hex him, when he stopped laughing as suddenly as he had started.

"Well, that's certainly rich. I never thought I would find myself in competition with myself."

"Excuse me?"

"I... might have been the one that sent you all those letters and gifts," he answered, looking more unsure of himself that she had ever seen him.

"Prove it."

She wasn't just going to take his word for it! But he did prove it, reciting parts from each letter. There was no way he could have known what they said, as she hadn't shown them to anyone after the first one. As he talked, she was suddenly hit with clarity and had no idea how she never put it together before this.

"So, you're in love with me, are you? Does that mean you'll re-consider your answer about dinner?" he asked, looking a bit smug.

"Git. I suppose I can be talked into it. I just have some questions. Why all the secrecy? Why not just ask me out like you just did?"

"I just want you to know who I am."

Thanks to Jordi for looking this over for me.

Written for Round 11 of the Quidditch League FanFiction Competition. Go Wanderers!
Prompt: Base your fic around a line from Iris by The GooGoo Dolls. I picked "I just want you to know who I am".

Getting Around Challenge: Hermione Granger

Hope you enjoyed and please review!