He'd given her his handkerchief once. Their Houses were sharing a Divination class and their fraud of a Professor had given them an assignment on star constellations, a complete and utter waste of time in his opinion. He'd been doodling, ignoring the old bat clicking her tongue at him in annoyance as she passed by, when he heard someone inhale sharply beside him.
He saw her drop her quill and a crimson droplet stain the paper in front of her. It was one of the Patil twins, though he'd be damned if he remembered which one. The air-headed one, Pavarti, maybe? She popped the finger in her mouth in an effort to stop the bleeding, brow furrowing in concentration when she pulled it back out to examine how deep the cut was. Her pitiful mutters of 'ow' had him rolling his eyes. Honestly, it was just a bloody paper cut. That was a Gryffindor for you, he supposed. Brave as can be when it came to running head first into a dangerous situation, but Merlin forbid they deal with a blasted paper cut.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a dark green handkerchief and tossed it onto her desk. She glanced at him sharply, eyes narrowing, in suspicion, and he resisted the urge to snort. He may have been an asshole, but Zabini men were gentlemen. Instead he put on his best Slytherin smirk and gestured towards it with a tilt of his head. "What? Afraid I cursed it, Patil?"
To his surprise, she was the one who snorted while lifting the cloth between the index finger and thumb of her uninjured hand, wrinkling her nose at it. "I'm not sure." She replied, a serious expression on her face. "Will my hand shrivel up or something?"
Her only answer was a devious smile before Blaise resumed his doodling.
Many of the students had traveled home for the holidays, so the Great Hall was relatively empty that evening. Blaise was one of the few who remained at the castle, along with a few others, including the Patils. It'd been several weeks since their interaction in Divination and they hadn't spoken since.
So it was a bit of a surprise when he looked up from picking at his bisquits to see Parvarti standing in front of him, a sour look on her face. He took a moment to study her. She was decent looking for a Gryffindor, he supposed. Her dark skin looked soft to the touch and her raven hair was pulled back, baring her even features and full lips.
He was forced to stop when she cleared her throat, thrusting a small package under his nose. He took the gift hesitantly, glaring at her. To his amazement, she blushed beet red as and scampered away, muttering about being unable to get the blood out.
Shaking his head, more than a little baffled by her, he unwrapped the present. A handkerchief identical to his, made of the same fine silk, lay underneath. Set on top of it was a little piece of parchment and when unfolded he found a simple 'Thank You' scribbled on it.
For the remainder of breakfast, Blaise couldn't get rid of the stupid grin on his face.