How a Walk Leads to Coffee

The lovely thing about Hogwarts was that it offered many sparsely-trafficked areas about its enormous campus to take a mid-cleaning walk. Normally, Hermione took to the library when she needed a place to clear her head, but seeing as it was nearing exams, the library was too crowded. Besides, even books could not cure her dilemma. Thinking was the only way that she was going to make any sense of her new fascination with a certain dark-haired Slytherin.

He was much too distracting. They way his hair fell into his eyes when he poured out his cauldron in Potions, the way he smirked when he raised his hand to answer a question that someone had just gotten wrong, the way he…Hermione shook her head in an attempt to rid her head of these ridiculous images. Even thoughts of him were distracting. Most distracting, however, was the fact that he seemed to know that he was distracting her. She constantly caught him looking at her in class. Whenever her eye met his, a hot blush flooded her cheeks, and an annoying, cocky smile tugged at his mouth.

There was no denying that this behavior peaked her curiosity. He was very good mates with Draco Malfoy, and so she had always assumed that he held Muggleborns in the same esteem that Malfoy did. However, his recent behavior suggested otherwise. Hermione was trying not to let herself entertain the notion that he was as interested in her as she was with him, but she wasn't daft; his attention towards her definitely meant something.

This walk was proving ineffective. Hermione quickened her pace in a hastened effort to shake Blaise from her head. She crossed her arms across her body to block out the chill of the wind as she descended the hill to the Quidditch pitch. That was when she saw him. The one person she was trying, in vain, to get out of her head. The very person she had taken this walk to forget about was now walking towards her with Draco Malfoy, brooms in hand. Hermione glanced around furtively for somewhere to hide. There was nowhere to do so; she was trapped. The two Slytherins were approaching quickly. She decided to try to ignore them. Malfoy had apparently decided to make that impossible, though. He spotted her and nudged Blaise very obviously. Blaise looked over at her, smirked, and left his companion to make a beeline straight for her. Hermione swallowed loudly. It was difficult to keep one foot moving in front of the other in an escape. It was clear that she was purposely ignoring Blaise as he strode towards her.

He fell in step beside her, but she kept walking, her gaze straight ahead. A blush crept up her neck onto her cheeks.

"Hello Hermione," Blaise said finally, breaking the silence. He sounded amused, and Hermione wanted to hit him for it.

"Hello," Hermione squeaked. She was still looking forward and trying not to show how embarrassed she was that her voice had betrayed her nervousness.

"Where are you headed?" he asked conversationally, the amused tone still present in his voice.

"Nowhere," Hermione replied. Her voice, thankfully, had returned to its normal decibel level, although it was shaking slightly. She was very aware of how close to her he was. He was wearing a jumper and slacks; his hair was slightly out of place, probably from the wind blowing around the Quidditch pitch. In short, he looked fantastic. Hermione swallowed again, forcing herself to keep walking. Perhaps if did not look at him, he would get the hint and walk away. "I'm enjoying the sunshine," she continued.

What was he doing? Why could he possibly be walking next to her around the Quidditch pitch? How could he be getting such enjoyment of tormenting Hermione so?

"We should get coffee sometime," he said.

It was at that point that Hermione's feet stopped moving. The chock of his statement had rendered her brain useless to send the message to her limbs to move. She merely stood there, blinking like a brainless bint. Coffee sometime?

Blaise had continued walking. He only made it a few steps before he realized that Hermione was no longer beside him. He stopped and turned around to face her. Of course, a bloody smirk was on his face. This felt like a trap. As evidenced by the earlier display by Malfoy, this was the blonde Slytherin's doing. He had probably bribed Blaise to ask her out just to embarrass her. She would say yes, Blaise would take her out… then pull some ridiculous prank on her and Malfoy would get photographic evidence. That had to be what was happening.

There was only a metere or so between them. Hermione was at a loss for what to do. "Excuse me?" she said. Her arms were still folded over her body, but now it was defensive against Blaise instead of the wind.

His smirk widened. "You, me, coffee," he said.

She forced her legs to start walking again. This was a joke and it had to be treated with indifference. Chin high, she walked straight past him. "No, thank you," she told him defiantly. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to continue my walk alone."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a look of surprise flit across his face before he fell in step with her once again. She was taken aback by this look of surprise. This was a joke…right? He just hadn't expected her to deny him. Hermione once again decided to ignore his presence beside her.

He was silent again for a few moments. They were making their way around the far side of the pitch when he said, "I'm not daft, Granger."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean." His existence was distracting her once more.

"I see it when you look at me."

Redness flooded her face. "I do not look at you," she insisted.

"I look at you too."

This was quite a thing to admit. Of course, Hermione had been noticing this; it had been one of the things that enticed her to take this walk in the first place. "You can stop, Blaise; I know that Malfoy put you up to this," she said, deciding that it would be best to just end this nonsense.

That was when Blaise laughed. She had never heard him laugh, and it surprised her. "I know that you are not this dense, Hermione. Coffee."

She stopped walking and turned to face him. She began in disbelief: "You don't mean to tell me—"

And then his mouth was covering hers.

Hermione couldn't lie to herself; she had been wondering what it would be like to kiss Blaise Zabini. Would he be gentle, caressing her tongue with his? Would he prefer open-mouth to closed-mouth kisses? Would his hand cup the side of her face, work its way into her hair, grab her hip? None of her fantasies lived up to this moment, however. It was bliss. There was no awkwardness whatsoever, as one would expect with a first kiss with someone new. He merely pressed his lips up against hers, firmly but without excessive force. It showed her that he meant what he was doing, but it still gave her room to back out. His lips were soft, and slightly dry. Clearly, he knew exactly what he was doing. Hermione assumed that he had quite a bit of practice with this sort of thing, but she was not complaining. Her eyelids closed.

He was wearing some sort of cologne, Hermione noticed. It was musky with a bit of spice to it, and she liked it. She liked it a lot. She let herself be surrounded by it as she returned the kiss with the same firmness. He did not seem surprised by this reaction. At this point, it did not matter if Malfoy was behind this or not. This kiss was completely worth any subsequent embarrassment.

When it ended, she wished it hadn't. Her eyes opened reluctantly to see that he stood up straight once again, looking down at her. In that moment, Hermione hated that he was taller than her and could give her that intimidating look. "Do you believe me now?" he asked.

She nodded slowly since it seemed she was unable to form words at the moment. It was very difficult to believe that this moment was real. This type of scenario had occupied her head for weeks now, but she never dreamed that it would come to fruition.

"Coffee?" he repeated.

She cleared her throat. "Coffee."