Disclaimer: If only I owned it… then maybe I could afford the college I'm going to. But alas, we can't all be so fortunate, and I'll be coming out of here with more than my fair share of debts. So no, HP is JKR's…

Coffee and Cream

"Why does it matter so much to you what he thinks then?"

She hesitated, why did it matter? He seemed to notice her hesitation and jumped at the chance to prove his point.

"Because, Granger, you're no better than the rest of us. You care what people think about you; appearances matter to you no matter how much you may try to deny it."

Hermione frowned and bit her lip to prevent herself from admitting that he was right. He had that smug look on his face again as he casually leaned back in his seat. His eyes were alight with some otherwise unexpressed humor and she couldn't stand it. She felt her cheeks burning and looked down at the coffee cup on the table before her. She stirred it idly, wishing that she hadn't added quite so much cream. His, she noted, was black and she was half tempted to try swapping cups when he wasn't looking. It would serve him right too. He hated cream in his coffee; she wasn't sure why she knew that, he hadn't said it, but she was sure he did.

She heard what might have been a laugh and looked up at him once again. There was half a smirk playing at his lips and she could feel her temper flare once more.

"Look at you; you're too afraid to even admit that I'm right. What happened to that Gryffindor courage I've heard so much about?"

"I'm not admitting it Zabini because it isn't true." All right, so it was a boldfaced lie, but she couldn't let him win. Some unspoken battle had begun between the two the moment he'd sat down.

Come to think of it she wasn't even sure why he'd come to sit with her in the first place; Hermione was fairly certain she had seen a few of his fellow Slytherins sitting near the front counter. She'd been perfectly happy sitting by herself in the small corner of the coffee shop just people watching until he showed up.

"Yes it is." He continued, interrupting her thoughts.

Oh he was asking for it. She had half a mind to slap him if only to get rid of the glint in his eyes, but he continued, "If it wasn't true you wouldn't have had to ask me why I was sitting with a mudblood," He watched her flinch, "your word, not mine mind you."

"And you still haven't answered the question."

"And I don't intend to." The cocky bastard. "Why are you so afraid to admit that it mattered to you what I thought about you when I sat down? Why else would you have compared me to Malfoy if not to gauge my reaction?" He really was tempting fate.

"I'm not afraid Zabini. There's nothing to admit. I could care less what you or anyone else thinks."

"Really now, I never took you for a liar Granger."

"I'm not lying!" Oops. She'd yelled hadn't she? Yes, she could see by the numerous heads turned in their direction that she had. Her cheeks burned red again as she noticed the Slytherin table looking over at them whispering amongst themselves. She could feel anger coiling in the pit of her stomach. He wasn't right, he couldn't be. But then why was she so embarrassed? If she didn't care what people thought then why were all the strange looks bothering her so much?

"Prove it."

It was a simple challenge. If you asked her later she couldn't have told you why she did it, but something in her snapped. She'd never fit Snape's stereotype of Gryffindors until that moment, 'act before you think' just wasn't her style. But rational thought fled her mind and her anger overtook her. She would prove him wrong; she'd prove them all wrong.

In one swift movement Hermione had leaned across the small coffee shop table, grabbed Blaise by the collar, and pressed her lips to his.

There was nothing graceful about the kiss, and really it wouldn't have been terribly impressive if it had been anyone else. Blaise's eyes had gone wide with shock for an instant before slipping closed. It was all over in a moment; Hermione pulled back, clearly horrified, jammed her hand into her pocked, and dropped a few coins on the table before bolting out of the coffee shop. Her face was redder than he'd ever seen it.

Blaise leaned back in his chair once more and licked his lips slightly. They tasted like coffee with too much cream. He'd never been a fan of cream in his coffee. He took a sip from his own cup of the rich black liquid before looking over at the other Slytherins who were openly gaping at him. Let them look he could honestly care less.

He set his coffee cup down and reached across the table for the cream. He added just a slight hint to the cup in front of him; after all, a little variety once in a while was nice. Maybe it would grow on him.

Fini

A/N: I've recently been sucked into the whole HG/BZ ship and this was just a random little drabble that struck me while I was packing to go home for the break. Hope you enjoyed it… be sure to review and let me know!

-Heden