I had this little idea for a quick one shot this afternoon and I just had to jot it down. Just for fun. I hope you enjoy!


The Return of Blaise Zabini

Blaise Zabini had been away from London for nearly two years. Upon receiving an urgent owl from his mother, he'd taken leave from work—given that money really wasn't an issue for him—and stayed at his grandmother's bedside until she passed. After the funeral, he tied up loose ends and now here he was—back in London and back at his old job as a public defender for the Ministry of Magic.

His first week back found him at the Ministry's annual Christmas party. He entered via the floos to be submerged in the chaos that was a wizarding Christmas party. He glanced over his head and noted the sprigs of magical mistletoe and made a mental note to avoid the blasted things like the plague. Red, gold, and green streamer zoomed around the room on their own flooding the ceiling with holiday cheer.

He shouldered past a few people he didn't recognize until he made his way to the bar. A hefty glass of Ogden's best was in order if he were to survive this much holiday cheer. It wasn't so much his grandmother's passing that had the former Slytherin in a less than cheerful mood but his lack of a date. At the last minute, he hadn't known any witches he could call on to be his date and loathed going stag to such a festive event.

After he received his glass from the bartender, he turned to survey the room. Witches and wizards were interspersed amongst each other from all departments. He could see Ron Weasley with a stupid Santa hat on, bells and tassels shaking with each loud bark of laughter from the redhead.

Pansy Parkinson was a surprise. Before he'd left, she'd been working for the Daily Prophet as a gossip columnist. Now he'd learned she was working in the Department for Misuse of Muggle Devices—quite odd but she really had changed over the years. He'd even witnessed her sharing a lunch table with Hermione Granger just Monday.

Blaise continued to scan the room until he fell on a familiar blonde head. A slow grin tilted his lips and he pushed away from the bar to search out his friend.

"Draco, mate, what are you doing here?"

The blonde wizard in question turned at the sound of his name, sporting a cheerful smirk of his own. He was dressed immaculately in black suit accented by a deep crimson shirt and green tie. His short hair was brushed back in a sophisticated style and he looked every inch the Potions CEO that he was. The question was—why was he here?

"Blaise, nice to see you." Draco shifted the small plate in his hands and reached out to shake hands with his former housemate.

"You as well, mate. Looking fairly…festive there." Blaise lifted an amused eyebrow and nodded at his shirt and tie.

Draco glanced down at himself and rolled his eyes. "Ah, yes, well that's what happens when you let your wife dress you."

The Italian chuckled at that and shook his head. "I see. Sorry that I couldn't make it to the wedding earlier this year."

The blonde shrugged and popped a stuffed mushroom into his mouth. "Nothing to apologize for, Blaise. Sorry about your grandmother."

"Thanks, mate. So what are you doing here anyway?"

Draco smirked, a mischievous twinkle in his smoky grey eyes. "My wife works for the Ministry. I get dragged along to these silly functions now."

"Oh? I wonder if I know her. I didn't get to read your engagement or wedding announcements. Mother isn't too fond of the Daily Prophet. She prefers a local Italian wizarding paper. I only heard through the grapevine, so to speak."

Draco nodded in understanding. "Can't say I'm always fond of the blasted paper either. And you certainly know her."

Blaise smiled good-naturedly and nodded. "Oh, well you'll have to reintroduce us then."

The blonde grinned and nodded but appeared distracted by a group of people a few paces away from them. Blaise followed his gaze and landed on the subject of his fascination.

"Bloody hell, I don't think I'll ever get over how hot Granger is these days," Blaise mumbled and shook his head.

The witch in question was sporting a short, knee length red dress. She was a rather small woman and the blood red material clung to her gentle curves as though she'd been sown into it. Her once unruly hair was pinned back on one side so her curls tumbled about her shoulders.

Draco's eyes narrowed but didn't move from their target. "Hey Granger," he called out.

Blaise just chuckled. Some things never changed. The few occasions that he'd seen Draco run into her in the past eight years since Hogwarts, he'd done nothing but annoy the hell out of the woman. Not in a cruel fashion like when they'd been in school. He merely seemed to enjoy getting her dander up. Her nostrils would usually flare, her cheeks flamed, and her lips pouted in a way most men couldn't deny was tantalizing, despite that the next minute she'd likely hex you.

Hermione Granger was speaking to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley as well as their respective wives when she heard him shout her name. Ignoring the annoying shout of her surname, she continued on as if she hadn't even heard.

"Granger!"

She watched as Ron bit his lips to hide a chuckle at her annoyed expression. "But the contract for Centaur land rights—"

"Oi, Granger," Draco shouted louder a third time.

Hermione whirled around so fast she nearly spilled eggnog all over her new dress. "What, Draco!"

She could hear Harry and Ron snickering behind her and shot them each admonishing glare before turning back to the annoying wizard shouting her name.

Draco grinned now that he finally had her attention and held up a hand, curling his index finger towards himself a few times. "Come here, Sweetheart."

Blaise watched the entire interaction with bated breath, fearful of what the bossy but brilliant witch would do. She was calm as a cucumber most of the time but no one within the Ministry was in doubt of her brains or her ability with a wand. The few who had ever crossed her didn't enjoy the consequences.

To the Italian's utter shock, Hermione huffed irritably before turning back to mutter a polite apology to her companions and made her way towards them.

"Yes, dear," she ground out with a smile so saccharine it was frightening.

Draco curled his free hand around the witch's waist and turned to smile at his old friend. "You wanted to be reintroduced to my wife, Blaise. I believe you remember Hermione."

Blaise's mouth dropped in complete shock as Hermione noticed him for the first time. He blinked blankly and was surprised when her expression melted back into the sweet and polite smile she normally sported.

"Blaise, I didn't realize you were back from Italy already." She laughed at his open mouthed expression and shot a playful glare up at her husband who only answered with his usual smirk. "I can only assume by your expression that Draco's done something ridiculous."

Blaise shook his head quickly to regain his composure. "Uh…well, he certainly didn't explain…this."

Hermione rolled her eyes and reached over to steal a morsel off of Draco's plate. "He usually doesn't. Consistent with his infuriating personality, he enjoys the shock value."

"Hey," Draco interrupted with an indignant eyebrow lifted high, "I worked hard to woo you and everyone took great pleasure in my struggle. Let me have my fun at others' expense now."

"Good Godric," she muttered before she stood on her toes to kiss him gently. "Behave yourself or I'm telling my mother not to make your favorite pie for Christmas dinner."

She turned to rejoin her friends but not before Draco whirled around to have the last word.

"That's just bloody cruel!"

Hermione turned with a small smirk on her lips and sipped her eggnog. "Test your luck and you won't get sex for the next week…no, next month."

Draco's grey eyes nearly doubled in size and he clamped his mouth shut quickly.

"That's a good Slytherin," she chuckled before rejoining the group she'd been talking to before.

Blaise just shook his head, mouth dropped open in shock again as he observed the whole scene. He glanced into his glass and swirled the amber liquid. "Fucking bleeding hell, that bartender must have spiked my glass," he muttered to himself. "There's just no other way."