Title: Makers of Modern Strategy
Author: Nes
Rating: R
Summary: Hating Draco Malfoy makes strange bedfellows. Blaise and Hermione hatch a plot.
Her troubles began in Arithmancy. Looking back, it was odd considering that classrooms were generally a safe place for Hermione Granger. She went into classrooms with total confidence of her knowledge and left them with the kind of smug satisfaction one could only get from its most excellent application and show of mastery.
That day, however, Hermione was approached before her leather knapsack had been filled to brimming and the smug, though good-natured, smile could fully settle onto her face.
"Miss Granger." The voice was soft and polite but too firm to be ignored.
She looked away from her back and to a pair of luxuriantly comfortable dragonhide shoes up to a tailored robe and finally to blue eyes framed by thick black lashes that Parvati would envy, if not worship adoringly.
"Yes, Mister Zabini," she matched his formality somewhat mockingly. Though she and Blaise Zabini were yearmates and shared classes, as Slytherins and Gryffindors inevitably did, they had never interacted directly before and Hermione was intrigued. Besides, she had to fill her poor knapsack carefully now or it would break under the weight of scrolls and tomes despite the patchwork of strengthening spells she had layered upon it. She could talk to the mysterious boy while putting her things away so even if he was only going to harass her for notes or homework, it would not be a waste of time. The obligations of expediency obeyed, she further decided that she could afford to be polite so she added, "How may I help you?"
The classroom was otherwise empty so he sprawled over her table and its companion chair leaving them face to face but maintaining a comfortable distance between them.
"Sixth year is drawing to a close,"He looked her straight in the eye and began before Hermione shook her head impatiently.
"If that line was a prelude to either a declaration of tender affections you've held for me since fourth year or the beginning of fond reminisces, I'll be forced to go deaf."
"Actually it was an attempt at gentle conversation to put your defensive Gryffindor heart at ease before seguing into my ulterior motives but I can see that such persuasive tactics are clearly wasted upon you."
"Disregarding the seventy percent insulting content of your last statement, I must admit I prefer openness to your idea of persuasion."
"To be subtle is to be Slytherin."
She cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at him, "You thought that was subtle?"
Blaise ignored her comment and soldiered on. "As I was saying, sixth year is nearly over and we're approaching our seventh and final year. In accordance, the administration will soon be announcing the next Head Boy and Girl."
Hermione brightened and asked with false enthusiasm and surprise, "Really?"
"Yes, really," he answered in the same tone before shifting his angle his approach. "The Head Students' Handbook, page nine."
"What's that supposed to mean?" She looked at him curiously, "How did you get a hold of the Handbook? I tried and was told its only available to the students who hold the positon."
"And second years shouldn't be capable of brewing Polyjuice," he looked at her pointedly before continuing. "I have my ways. And the passage I am referring to is one that outlines the living quarters of the Head Students. 'Their bedrooms shall be adjacent and also they shall share a common room and bathroom.' End quote."
"And lo, they shall snog? I don't believe you. Honestly, a bathroom? Why should the administration encourage cohabitation? Can you imagine the tawdry scenarios provoked by teenage hormones, a lone bathtub and the kinds of foams, scents, and lotions this school provides? Parents would be up in arms. It doesn't make sense. Especially when it would be so simple for them to add another bathroom with magic."
It was Blaise's turn to raise an eyebrow, "Tawdry scenarios? Have you thought about this often?"
"No."
"Right, then." He looked at her doubtfully. "So you haven't thought of yourself covered in patchouli scented bubbles, glowing by soft, seductive candlelight-"
Hermione let his voice carry her for a moment before part of his narrative caught her attention.
"Draco Malfoy offering to wash your back?"
"Malfoy? Beg your pardon?"
Blaise grinned, "While Draco Malfoy is still choking on your, shall we say, academic dust, he has maintained excellent grades. He's top candidate for Head Boy. Which means you two will be sharing a bathtub and your 'tawdry scenarios' may have been acted out by this time next year."
"You, Mister Zabini, are being ridiculous again. Malfoy only gets what privileges his father can buy him." She glared at him. "And stop saying 'tawdry scenarios' and making air quotes with your hands."
Blaise folded his hands in his lap dutifully but was still grinning wolfishly. "You know Lucius' influence has only dissipated since the war and that the money never mattered much to Dumbledore anyway."
"Even if he has good grades, his attitude and misbehavior certainly preclude his appointment to such an honor."
Blaise continued to grin at her, "Well, he does have all those extracurriculars."
"He's a liar and a cheat!"
"But it's not like he set a professor on fire, broke curfew a few hundred times, degraded a second professor before leaving her classroom in a snit, physically assaulted a fellow student, began a club under prohibition which coincedentally drove the Headmaster away and led to the defacement and demoralization of a second student, and conspired for a third professor to be attacked by a mob of centaurs." He ticked off each off offense on long, elegant fingers and Hermione's ire rose accordingly.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Please, Miss Granger, don't deny it. Be proud, after all, you've gotten away with all of it." He looked at her again, eyes all blue and piercing. "Or have you? I mean, maybe its all going be accounted for now. The decision of Head Girl is one made by all the faculty, someone's bound to remember what a bad girl you are underneath your primness."
"I have the highest scores in decades!"
"Exactly," his grin had reached Cheshire proportions and Hermione realized she'd been tricked. "So you see that while Draco's own record isn't spotless, it doesn't really matter. If they make you Head Girl, they have no excuse to reject him on grounds of rulebreaking. So there you will both be, misfit rulebreaking intellectual giants sharing a bathtub."
Hermione involuntarily shuddered at the idea. When she opened her eyes to remove the frightening visual, Blaise was still there. Still grinning. "You've broken years of silence to give me nightmares about Malfoy?"
"What better reason?" He shrugged momentarily before straightening again, all business. "Miss Granger, I come to you with a proverb."
Hermione blinked. The conversation was getting stranger by the second.
"The enemy of my enemy-"
"Is my best friend," she finished for him, still not seeing his point.
"You don't like Draco. I don't like Draco. It wouldn't please either of us if he became Head Boy. I'd say that's more than enough basis for an alliance."
She had no idea whether it was sure that Blaise was at odds with Malfoy but she didn't have evidence to affirm or deny the idea either. She knew Malfoy annoyed her enough that she could happily beat him with a crowbar, heal him, and then acquaint him with additional blunt objects. Blaise had to live with Malfoy and therefore had more opportunity to be annoyed. She decided she could believe him, a little. She looked at him suspiciously.
"I assure you I've no designs on the position. All that patrolling? Shades too much responsibility for my tastes, you know. I just don't want him to have it."
She huffed, incidentally blowing a wayward strand of hair away from her the pink bow of her mouth. "I most certainly do not know anything regarding, nor have interest in your tastes."
"That is," he paused momentarily to glance at her lips, "regrettable."
Hermione concentrated on not letting her jaw drop to her chest. Then she rationalized. Clearly, Blaise was attempting a kamikaze of persuasion tactics and flirtation was bound to be included in the mix.
She narrowed her eyes and closed her pack with a decisive snap, "What's in it for you?"
"Slytherin politics. Malfoy's held the balance of power for too long now."
Yes, Hermione thought, she could see how that would move even a self-proclaimed lazy person to be proactive. He had to have at least a modicum of ambition to be sorted into Slytherin. And it was cunning of him to approach her. It was even rather pragmatic of him to approach her, besides her House and blood. She nearly smiled, it was all so refreshing...
"Well, aren't you going to make some clumsy, albeit cutting by Gryffindor standards, remark about my House?"
She shook her head. "Oh, no. I wouldn't dream of it. You have enough individual faults that I don't have to resort to impersonal generalities. I consider it the basest form of wit."
Blaise bit his tongue sourly. Hermione was pleased. The insult was a stalling technique while she decided whether she wanted to involve herself in another House's internal affairs. She was fairly certain she could handle Malfoy on her own but Blaise had turned out to be an interesting personality and she was reluctant to reject such a puzzle. Especially since it seemed he'd collected a rather large file of information on herself. It was only fair that she gather counterintelligence. If she rejected him now, he would never approach her again.
Said enigma interrupted her thoughts again.
"I'll have you know that little bit of sarcasm has sealed my determination to ally with you. Oh, I knew you were brilliant but that was...lovely. I'll give you until after dinner to decide but only because I'm sure you'll accept my offer."
And so Blaise Zabini left, his robe positively swirling on the cloud of his own arrogance.
If he had looked back, which he didn't since it have would broken the illusion of cool assurance, he would have seen the small, speculative smile on Hermione's face.
Author: Nes
Rating: R
Summary: Hating Draco Malfoy makes strange bedfellows. Blaise and Hermione hatch a plot.
Her troubles began in Arithmancy. Looking back, it was odd considering that classrooms were generally a safe place for Hermione Granger. She went into classrooms with total confidence of her knowledge and left them with the kind of smug satisfaction one could only get from its most excellent application and show of mastery.
That day, however, Hermione was approached before her leather knapsack had been filled to brimming and the smug, though good-natured, smile could fully settle onto her face.
"Miss Granger." The voice was soft and polite but too firm to be ignored.
She looked away from her back and to a pair of luxuriantly comfortable dragonhide shoes up to a tailored robe and finally to blue eyes framed by thick black lashes that Parvati would envy, if not worship adoringly.
"Yes, Mister Zabini," she matched his formality somewhat mockingly. Though she and Blaise Zabini were yearmates and shared classes, as Slytherins and Gryffindors inevitably did, they had never interacted directly before and Hermione was intrigued. Besides, she had to fill her poor knapsack carefully now or it would break under the weight of scrolls and tomes despite the patchwork of strengthening spells she had layered upon it. She could talk to the mysterious boy while putting her things away so even if he was only going to harass her for notes or homework, it would not be a waste of time. The obligations of expediency obeyed, she further decided that she could afford to be polite so she added, "How may I help you?"
The classroom was otherwise empty so he sprawled over her table and its companion chair leaving them face to face but maintaining a comfortable distance between them.
"Sixth year is drawing to a close,"He looked her straight in the eye and began before Hermione shook her head impatiently.
"If that line was a prelude to either a declaration of tender affections you've held for me since fourth year or the beginning of fond reminisces, I'll be forced to go deaf."
"Actually it was an attempt at gentle conversation to put your defensive Gryffindor heart at ease before seguing into my ulterior motives but I can see that such persuasive tactics are clearly wasted upon you."
"Disregarding the seventy percent insulting content of your last statement, I must admit I prefer openness to your idea of persuasion."
"To be subtle is to be Slytherin."
She cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at him, "You thought that was subtle?"
Blaise ignored her comment and soldiered on. "As I was saying, sixth year is nearly over and we're approaching our seventh and final year. In accordance, the administration will soon be announcing the next Head Boy and Girl."
Hermione brightened and asked with false enthusiasm and surprise, "Really?"
"Yes, really," he answered in the same tone before shifting his angle his approach. "The Head Students' Handbook, page nine."
"What's that supposed to mean?" She looked at him curiously, "How did you get a hold of the Handbook? I tried and was told its only available to the students who hold the positon."
"And second years shouldn't be capable of brewing Polyjuice," he looked at her pointedly before continuing. "I have my ways. And the passage I am referring to is one that outlines the living quarters of the Head Students. 'Their bedrooms shall be adjacent and also they shall share a common room and bathroom.' End quote."
"And lo, they shall snog? I don't believe you. Honestly, a bathroom? Why should the administration encourage cohabitation? Can you imagine the tawdry scenarios provoked by teenage hormones, a lone bathtub and the kinds of foams, scents, and lotions this school provides? Parents would be up in arms. It doesn't make sense. Especially when it would be so simple for them to add another bathroom with magic."
It was Blaise's turn to raise an eyebrow, "Tawdry scenarios? Have you thought about this often?"
"No."
"Right, then." He looked at her doubtfully. "So you haven't thought of yourself covered in patchouli scented bubbles, glowing by soft, seductive candlelight-"
Hermione let his voice carry her for a moment before part of his narrative caught her attention.
"Draco Malfoy offering to wash your back?"
"Malfoy? Beg your pardon?"
Blaise grinned, "While Draco Malfoy is still choking on your, shall we say, academic dust, he has maintained excellent grades. He's top candidate for Head Boy. Which means you two will be sharing a bathtub and your 'tawdry scenarios' may have been acted out by this time next year."
"You, Mister Zabini, are being ridiculous again. Malfoy only gets what privileges his father can buy him." She glared at him. "And stop saying 'tawdry scenarios' and making air quotes with your hands."
Blaise folded his hands in his lap dutifully but was still grinning wolfishly. "You know Lucius' influence has only dissipated since the war and that the money never mattered much to Dumbledore anyway."
"Even if he has good grades, his attitude and misbehavior certainly preclude his appointment to such an honor."
Blaise continued to grin at her, "Well, he does have all those extracurriculars."
"He's a liar and a cheat!"
"But it's not like he set a professor on fire, broke curfew a few hundred times, degraded a second professor before leaving her classroom in a snit, physically assaulted a fellow student, began a club under prohibition which coincedentally drove the Headmaster away and led to the defacement and demoralization of a second student, and conspired for a third professor to be attacked by a mob of centaurs." He ticked off each off offense on long, elegant fingers and Hermione's ire rose accordingly.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Please, Miss Granger, don't deny it. Be proud, after all, you've gotten away with all of it." He looked at her again, eyes all blue and piercing. "Or have you? I mean, maybe its all going be accounted for now. The decision of Head Girl is one made by all the faculty, someone's bound to remember what a bad girl you are underneath your primness."
"I have the highest scores in decades!"
"Exactly," his grin had reached Cheshire proportions and Hermione realized she'd been tricked. "So you see that while Draco's own record isn't spotless, it doesn't really matter. If they make you Head Girl, they have no excuse to reject him on grounds of rulebreaking. So there you will both be, misfit rulebreaking intellectual giants sharing a bathtub."
Hermione involuntarily shuddered at the idea. When she opened her eyes to remove the frightening visual, Blaise was still there. Still grinning. "You've broken years of silence to give me nightmares about Malfoy?"
"What better reason?" He shrugged momentarily before straightening again, all business. "Miss Granger, I come to you with a proverb."
Hermione blinked. The conversation was getting stranger by the second.
"The enemy of my enemy-"
"Is my best friend," she finished for him, still not seeing his point.
"You don't like Draco. I don't like Draco. It wouldn't please either of us if he became Head Boy. I'd say that's more than enough basis for an alliance."
She had no idea whether it was sure that Blaise was at odds with Malfoy but she didn't have evidence to affirm or deny the idea either. She knew Malfoy annoyed her enough that she could happily beat him with a crowbar, heal him, and then acquaint him with additional blunt objects. Blaise had to live with Malfoy and therefore had more opportunity to be annoyed. She decided she could believe him, a little. She looked at him suspiciously.
"I assure you I've no designs on the position. All that patrolling? Shades too much responsibility for my tastes, you know. I just don't want him to have it."
She huffed, incidentally blowing a wayward strand of hair away from her the pink bow of her mouth. "I most certainly do not know anything regarding, nor have interest in your tastes."
"That is," he paused momentarily to glance at her lips, "regrettable."
Hermione concentrated on not letting her jaw drop to her chest. Then she rationalized. Clearly, Blaise was attempting a kamikaze of persuasion tactics and flirtation was bound to be included in the mix.
She narrowed her eyes and closed her pack with a decisive snap, "What's in it for you?"
"Slytherin politics. Malfoy's held the balance of power for too long now."
Yes, Hermione thought, she could see how that would move even a self-proclaimed lazy person to be proactive. He had to have at least a modicum of ambition to be sorted into Slytherin. And it was cunning of him to approach her. It was even rather pragmatic of him to approach her, besides her House and blood. She nearly smiled, it was all so refreshing...
"Well, aren't you going to make some clumsy, albeit cutting by Gryffindor standards, remark about my House?"
She shook her head. "Oh, no. I wouldn't dream of it. You have enough individual faults that I don't have to resort to impersonal generalities. I consider it the basest form of wit."
Blaise bit his tongue sourly. Hermione was pleased. The insult was a stalling technique while she decided whether she wanted to involve herself in another House's internal affairs. She was fairly certain she could handle Malfoy on her own but Blaise had turned out to be an interesting personality and she was reluctant to reject such a puzzle. Especially since it seemed he'd collected a rather large file of information on herself. It was only fair that she gather counterintelligence. If she rejected him now, he would never approach her again.
Said enigma interrupted her thoughts again.
"I'll have you know that little bit of sarcasm has sealed my determination to ally with you. Oh, I knew you were brilliant but that was...lovely. I'll give you until after dinner to decide but only because I'm sure you'll accept my offer."
And so Blaise Zabini left, his robe positively swirling on the cloud of his own arrogance.
If he had looked back, which he didn't since it have would broken the illusion of cool assurance, he would have seen the small, speculative smile on Hermione's face.