Chapter One
"It was only eight sickles from that shop on the high street that's shutting down, it was a bargain," Hermione said. She held up a brown silk nightdress with cream lace trimming and handed it to Ginny. "What do you think?"
"I think that I am somewhat disturbed by the fact that you are showing me a nightie which you have no doubt bought for the benefit of my brother," Ginny said, pulling a face at thought. "Also, the fact that you used the word bargain in such an enthusiastic tone is a worrying sign that you need to get out more."
Hermione's cheeks flushed and she stuffed the nightdress back into its bag. "It-was-not-bought-for-the-benefit-of-your-brother-Ginny-Weasley," she said, and lightly slapped her friend's hand. "As you know fine well."
"It's too easy to make you squirm" Ginny said with a grin before standing to her feet. "I'll get the drinks in." Ginny went to the bar and returned a few minutes later with two uncorked bottles of Butterbeer which she placed on the table.
"Thanks, Gin," said Hermione.
"Oi, Granger!"
Hermione frowned and Ginny turned her head to see where the shout had come from, soon frowning as well at the tall, broad, black Slytherin who was making his way over to their table.
"Why me?" Hermione asked Ginny, only getting a shrug of the shoulders in response.
"If you're done flashing your knickers about can I have a word?" said Blaise Zabini, looking down at the two Gryffindor girls as he reached their table.
Hermione scowled and looked up at the source of her annoyance. "No, you cannot have a word; I am talking to my friend. Surely it can wait until I get back to our common room, can't it?"
Our common room. The phrase still burned her with annoyance. When she had received her letter telling her who the Head Boy would be, she had quickly come to the conclusion that the teachers had either gone mad or Professor Snape had them all under an Imperius Curse. Professor McGonagall had confirmed the decision in response to Hermione's frantically written owl. 'It has been agreed that Mr. Zabini is the perfect choice for Head Boy. His marks have been excellent, he has a perfect attendance record, has never been involved in any major rule-breaking incidents and is involved with extracurricular activities.' Thus far, the only extracurricular activities Hermione had ever seen Blaise involved with were the amount of girls she had seen brought back to their common room and subsequently up to his room. If this had been the way Zabini had behaved all the way through their previous six years at Hogwarts, it almost made her feel sorry for the Slytherins who had been forced to share a room with him.
Hermione had tried to persuade Ron to be furious about the decision, but Ron hadn't really cared much. He argued that he and Harry would still get perks from Hermione, without having to do the work. Harry had been equally unruffled and said that he had other things to worry about. Hermione knew this to be true, but that didn't stop her from being annoyed about it.
"What do you want, Zabini?" Ginny asked the Slytherin Head Boy.
"All I was going to say was that I am heading back to the castle and if you wanted me to, I would take that heavy looking bag back for you," he said and pointed to a bag on the floor at Hermione's feet. "However, since it appears you are much more interested in showing everyone in the pub your new sex clothes, I'll leave you to it." With that, he turned and left the Three Broomsticks, leaving Hermione to put her elbow on the table and cradle her head in her hands.
She looked to Ginny and sighed "Do you believe for a second that that was what he wanted?"
"Not in the least," said Ginny taking a drink of her Butterbeer.
"Good, I'm glad it's not just me. He's been such a nightmare, Ginny," said Hermione "From the minute we had to start sharing a common room, it's been sexual innuendos between every other word; having to put up with him and Malfoy sneaking Firewhisky into the castle and… actually, no, that pretty much sums him up. Did I tell you I had to soundproof his door? I wasn't getting any sleep."
"Yes, you told me, and not that I'm unwilling to listen when you need to have a Zabini-based rant, but I have to tell you, Hermione…" Ginny paused, then sighed before continuing. "You don't half complain about him a lot."
Hermione scowled as she entered the shared common room and placed her bag onto her favourite armchair. Blaise was sat in front of the fireplace with a glass of what she presumed to be Firewhisky immediately to his left and that day's Daily Prophet folded at the puzzle page. "Why did you have to do that?" she said "Why do you feel the need to go out of your way to embarrass me in public?"
Not looking up from his newspaper, Blaise filled in some letters on the crossword he was working on. "Do what, exactly?"
"You know what, don't play dumb."
"Granger, I swear, I came to ask you if you wanted me to take back your bag for you, it looked heavy and I was just trying to be friendly." He wrote another word into the blank boxes, but he must have perceived Hermione's glare through the paper, because he lowered it and sighed. "Alright, I apologise for commenting on your sexy nightie, that was rude of me. Can we go back to living in peace now?"
"I give up, said Hermione and she collapsed into her armchair. "Look, I have a meeting with the Gryffindor prefects before breakfast tomorrow, is there any chance you could give the Hogwarts Bedroom Olympics a miss tonight?"
He sighed and put the newspaper down on the sofa next to him, then lifted his glass and took a sip. "Granger, what is it exactly that bothers you about me so much? Is it my very active social life, or the fact that I get good marks in my lessons despite my active social life?"
"Oh piss off, Zabini," she said. "I have never in my life known someone as infuriating as you."
"You know what I think? I think that you like having me around; I think you like having someone to complain about," said Blaise with a smirk.
"Would it be a detrimental blow to your ego to discover that I don't spend all my time talking about you?"
"Ah, it's love's young dream," said a voice from the portrait hole.
Hermione turned her head to see Draco Malfoy standing in the open doorway and groaned internally. "Second most infuriating," she said. Malfoy seemed to be the only other person who was bothered by his friend being made Head Boy and that was only because he wanted the position for himself. Hermione wondered sometimes if they had skipped over Malfoy to avoid their being at each others' throats all the time.
"Careful now, Granger, you'll only make him jealous if he's not your favourite Slytherin," said Malfoy as he crossed the room and placed a full bottle of Firewhisky next to his friend.
"We're supposed to behave tonight," said Blaise, summoning over an additional glass. "She's got a meeting in the morning and we disturb her."
Draco smirked and pulled his face into an expression of mock-concern. "You mean if we don't behave there could be consequences? Severe consequences?"
Blaise covered his mouth with his hand and looked at Hermione. "She could even…" he paused for what Hermione presumed was dramatic effect, "…scold us."
The blonde Slytherin gasped, then smirked and poured himself a glass of Firewhisky to match his friend's. "How ever will we recover from a scolding?"
"I hate you two," said Hermione, as she stood to her feet and marched across the room to head up to her room whilst the two Slytherins clutched their chests feigning hurt and shock.
Hermione had spent thirty minutes in her room with her books, rigorously outlining what she needed to go over with the Gryffindor prefects. Work had calmed her down and she had decided not to play into the hands of the two chuckle brothers in the common room; it only livened them more when she was vexed.
She wanted to colour-code the assignments, but then realised the new bottles of coloured ink she'd bought were still in her shopping bag down the stairs. Sighing, she got up to go and retrieve her bag. She entered her shared common room to find Zabini and Malfoy rolling about on the floor, holding their stomachs and trying to breathe through their laughter. She noticed that the Firewhisky bottle was now half depleted and her shopping bag was on its side, the contents strewn about the room. She sucked in her cheeks as she saw Malfoy scrunching her brown, silk nightdress in one hand, waving it in front of Blaise.
"It must be virgin-chique," said Malfoy. "You think dust rags get Weaselbee's blood pumping?"
Suppressing the dry lump in her throat, Hermione calmly walked across the room. Noticing her presence, the two Slytherins stopped laughing and watched as she calmly picked up the three bottles of ink next to her shopping bag and left the room as quietly as she has entered it. She could not hear laughing as she returned to her room, but she made a mental note to dispose of the nightdress first thing in the morning.
"That was weird" said Blaise as Draco topped up their glasses with the Firewhisky bottle.
"What was?" asked Draco, placing the bottle back onto the table and picking up his glass.
Blaise scratched the back of his shaved head and looked to the stairway which the Head Girl had disappeared through, a few minutes prior. "Well, normally, she'd say something, wouldn't she?"
Draco shrugged his shoulders then downed half the contents of his glass. "Maybe we hurt her poor little feelings. Do Mudbloods have feelings?"
"Shit, I'm going to have to apologise," said Blaise, before taking a long drink from his glass.
"Have you gone mental?" asked Draco. "You can't apologise, it goes against every fundamental principle a Slytherin has."
"Look, you don't have to live in this room," said Blaise. "I can handle screaming, I can handle crying, easily take on howlers or hurling hexes, but brooding, silent fury is far too deadly to fuck with."
"She'll be fine, she'll spend the afternoon slagging us off with the Weaslette and move onto duller things," Draco paused and smirked. "Like Weaselbee's dick for example."
"I do not like the mental imagery that sentence just conjured."
"I think you're getting soft in your old age," said Draco.
"The only time I go soft is after a fuck-a-thon," said Blaise.
Draco threw the Firewhisky bottle at him.
