A/N: Thank you for all the reviews so far! They have been lovely :) Given how short the last chapter was, I've decided to also release this one. However, I then will not be updating for a while.. Well, when I say a while, I mean not within a day!
Hope you like, any questions, and feel free to PM.
Chapter Title inspired by song "Enchanted" by Taylor Swift. I don't own it. Evidently. Nor am I JK Rowling - so now that we're clear on that...
Chapter Two: The Playful Conversation Starts
Her mind couldn't seem to process each thought quick enough, and so Hermione was left with a tangle of ideas and theories that didn't connect nor make sense - in fact, they were more speculations than anything with any fact whatsoever backing it up. It couldn't have been him, it simply couldn't - not the man she hadn't seen in three years. It would be too coincidental, too easy and yet so difficult at the same time. Hermione hadn't moved yet, but the applause had died down and Draco had long left. He seemed a lot less effected in all this than she was, which only served to irritate and anger her.
Lost in thought, Hermione barely registered it when someone sat down next to her, "Pretty impressive, oui?" he laughed, "Bet you wished you had tapped that now," there was a wink, but Hermione hadn't spared him the glance to see it. She was still staring fixatedly on the space he had vacated, when she shook her head and returned to reality.
Wondering of the audacity of the person beside her, Hermione turned her gaze to them, prepared to unload the majority of her anger in one long rant, but she was stopped before she could even start. Hermione gaped, struck for the second time that evening, "Blaise?"
"The one and only, at your service." His smile was infectious, standing blindly out against his dark skin which was flawlessly glowing, not a blemish nor imperfection in sight. His eyes were a dark chocolate brown that looked like they could mesmerise and hypnotise anyone into doing whatever he may please - they were tantalizingly dark and yet so optimistically light. It was a complete contradiction, but as was Blaise Zabini. His teeth were perfectly aligned, gleaming white and adding an extra punch to his overall attractiveness. Yes, no one could deny that the man was good-looking, or they would certainly be lying. What was more though, was that Blaise knew exactly how good-looking he was, and used that to his advantage whenever the opportunity arose.
As she previously mentioned, he was a contradiction if there ever was one; Slytherin, and possessing a lot of their qualities - cunning, manipulative and self-preservation, but he was also the complete opposite to the typical Slytherin - he didn't hate half-blood or muggle-born wizards, he wasn't brooding and dark, he wasn't cruel for the sake of it and he didn't look down on everyone; humorous and comical, wanting to make every single person laugh, but never afraid to smash someone's insane theory to smithereens or tell a person exactly what he thought of them, bluntly and effectively; attractive and willing to use it to his advantage when he could, but never in a relationship, and never slept his way up the career ladder; a happy and fun-loving person who generally brought a light and infectious atmosphere with him wherever he went, but had a hard life as a child, and as Hermione said, never in a relationship - never shared this happiness with anyone; willing to talk to everyone, but kept everything close to his chest, never speaking about exclusively personal things. In fact, Hermione knew very little about his youth and growing up, due exactly to the fact that he never spoke about it.
Locked behind those great brown eyes was a history waiting to be told.
She was undeniably intrigued, and gazed at him for a few more minutes. He was still smiling, but his was tilted now, wondering and waiting for her response. Yes, his smile was indeed infectious, but brought back to the matter at hand, she was able to clutch onto her irritation. "Not to be rude Blaise, but what the hell are you doing here? I thought you accepted the Italian Ministry's transfer offer?" Confusion was written all over her face. He had been offered a great promotion to a job in the Wizengamot of Italy's Ministry, being fluent in Italian. His mother had been born and raised in Italy, and he had been born there before his mother took him to Italy at a very young age. She never found out why they emigrated, but Hermione put it down to the bad economics of the time.
He nodded, "I did, but figured I was needed more here.. My expertise are in demand, you know," he waggled his eyebrows, and the innuendo was made clear as one of the girls walking by gave him an appreciative glance.
Hermione rolled her eyes; this was what the lawyers of the country came to. "Wonderful. And I don't suppose you'll tell me why Malfoy is here, will you?"
He gave her a broad grin, "Not a chance there, Hermione. You should ask him yourself, I'd say you've a lot to talk about."
"I'm not going to go searching him out.." she replied stubbornly, frowning and allowing her eyes to roam to the piano once more.
He held up his hands defensively, "I'm not saying you have to. After all, you were just enjoying a drink here, weren't you?" Her frown deepened, but before she could respond, Blaise continued, "It has been a pleasure seeing you again, Hermione. Hopefully we'll run into each other again soon,"
"One can only hope." she joked, and he chuckled, standing up from his chair and nodding goodbye to her. She watched as he approached the bar to presumably pay his bill, and Hermione fell back against her seat with a deep sigh. It had certainly been an eventful night, and her curiosity was out of control. She hated being so out of the loop, so in the dark and unaware of everything going on. She needed to talk to Draco; he had, after all, up and left without a trace and she had been left alone and shocked. There had been no serious ties between them, but Hermione had been hurt to think he wouldn't even give his partner the courtesy of letting her know he was resigning. She had - wrongly, evidently - thought they had formed something of a friendship and it had hurt to find out truly wrong she had been.
Why did he just leave? So quickly and without notice? Hermione knew in that moment that she had to know, and if she didn't find out, she would spend the rest of her days regretting this moment. Uncharacteristically impulsively, Hermione jumped from her seat, grabbing her bag and coat, and ran to catch up with Blaise who was now walking out the door.
Yes, she had tons of questions, but he also had all he answers.
The cold assailed her the moment she stepped out of the warm and cosy bar, causing her to attempt to pull her coat on as she ran after the man. He certainly walked fast, but there was no sense of urgency or rush around him, it was just the fact that he had long strides and was probably looking forward to getting out of the cold. His hands were buried in his coat pockets, and he strode with a confidence not seen in the average man.
"Blaise!" She shouted, alerting him of her presence. She was only a few steps behind now, and figured there was no point in running the whole time. He looked back at her and gave her that contagious grin.
"I didn't think you would let me get away that easily,"
"Not on your life." she replied easily, falling into step with him, trying to control her breathing as to not look unfit.
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, "Are you okay there?" there was humour in his tone that did not go unnoticed.
She coughed purposely - to stall time to think of an answer, or to take away from her lack of fitness, she didn't know - and rubbed her hands together. "Perfectly. Now, where do you suppose I start in my questions?"
It had been a pleasant walk to his flat, with them discussing everything but the matter at hand, as she informed him of what had gone on in England since he had left - the important things such as the scandalous affair between two of their former co-workers and the unplanned, but welcomed, pregnancy that was a result of that. Hermione usually wasn't one to partake in such uncultured gossip, but they had both known the two of the workers very well, and she felt he should be privy to the new turn in their lives.
When they arrived at his flat, she was somehow still surprised by the luxury of it - though logically, she knew she shouldn't of been. Blaise was exceedingly wealthy after all.
She found out that he didn't share a flat of Draco, but they lived in close proximity to each other - she wasn't sure what his definition of 'close' was, and it wasn't important enough a question to be at the forefront of her mind.
It was every bit the bachelor pad - there were no distinctly feminine touches and it even smelled of 'man', and she could smell the cologne that Blaise was wearing the moment she stepped through the door; it wasn't a bad smell. She felt slightly out of place, and got the impression that many girls never got to sit in Blaise Zabini's kitchen to talk. He put the kettle on and told her he'd be back in a minute - so she sat and waited, what more could she do? Snooping had crossed her mind, admittedly, but Hermione was far too careful to do such a reckless thing. If caught, she would definitely not get the answers needed. However, if these answers were still not provided by the end of the night, she would be forced to revisit and snoop.
She really had got insatiable curiosity. It was healthy, honestly.
Blaise returned looking more irritated before, but the expression was gone as quickly as it came, and he sat across from her with two mugs. "Okay, Hermione, you've cajoled me into telling you a few select things. Shoot, and I will decide which I'll answer."
She blew her tea, knowing she wasn't going to get a better deal out of him. "Why is Draco here?"
His mouth quirked, "That would be the first question.. Also, it is declined." He said, as if on one of those ridiculous game-shows that were always on television. But Blaise would know nothing of televisions, of course. "Try again later."
"Why would later make a difference?" She asked exasperated.
The dirty joke was right there for him to make, and she knew she had walked herself into a trap, but instead he reigned in his more dirty-minded side, "Seemed like the right thing to say. They're always saying it on the television."
She choked a little on her tea, and he patted her back, laughing, "I know, you're probably disappointed I didn't make a pass at you, but don't worry - I'll make it up by the end of the night if you want."
The innuendo was clear.
Rather than give him the affronted look she would anyone else, she laughed at the absurdness of the night and those words. "Whatever, Blaise. I was actually shocked by your knowledge of what a television is.." Her gaze turned suspicious, and she raised a brow at him.
"I don't know why you look so suspicious, surely it's a good thing? Anyway, this is a muggle apartment, people before me left it here and I was curious. So sue me." He shrugged casually, joking. "Although I wouldn't recommend it because I'm a brilliant lawyer," he said with a flash of his pearly-whites.
She rolled her eyes again. "Let's bypass your curiosity of the telly and continue to what I originally came here for. If you won't tell me why Draco's here, why are you here?"
He sighed, tapping the table as he processed his response carefully. "He asked me to." was the simplest reply possible, and yet, that was what she was given. She gave him a look that said she was not accepting that mere answer, and so he went on, "I was in the Italian job a year, getting a little bored if I'm honest - it's all dirty deals over there, I'm telling you - when Draco contacts me asking if I'll help him with something, said it was urgent and he needed someone he could trust. Of course I had to help my best mate!" He finished, as if it explained it all.
She considered this for a moment, and knew it was the complete truth - there was no real need for fabrication, and nothing of real use was revealed to her in that sentence. Except for the fact that he needed urgent help. It had to have been serious then, and obviously required the utmost discretion given that he only enlisted Blaise for help.
Something else piqued her interest, "So you just dropped everything for your friend?" It was a moment in which she found admiration for Blaise Zabini, and not for his looks. If Harry or Ron were in trouble, she would leave everything at the drop of a hat, and it was comforting to be in the presence of someone who practiced these values.
"Course I did. Besides, there was a whole new pool of girls in France, just waiting to be dazzled by Blaise Zabini - I couldn't deprive them of one of the most devastatingly handsome men they would ever meet. It wouldn't have been fair, and I'm all about equality."
"Spoken like a true lawyer." Hermione sent wryly, sipping her tea.
Blaise winked, "As always. Democracy and all that. Now, are you quite done?"
"I've gotten one answer from you, Blaise."
He shrugged, propping his elbow up on the back of his chair, "Out of two, that's not doing bad."
There were footsteps in one of the rooms, and Hermione turned towards the door. She hadn't been aware that someone was in the apartment other than the two of them and she felt a streak of fear run through her - how well did she know Blaise Zabini? With a glance towards him and a shake of her head, Hermione's logic took over again she reasoned that he was actually a very nice person and she knew him pretty well from the years in the Ministry.
"You know, for some reason, I always forget that I can apparate from the laneway of the bar. Had to endure the walk home again because of that." Hermione froze, and closed her eyes slowly, knowing Blaise was watching her with an amused expression. She would recognise that voice anywhere, no matter if she were in France, England or China she would recognise that aristocratic, clear-cut voice.
He came into the room without even sparing her a look, still with his grey winter coat on and black scarf, and headed towards the kettle. He flicked his wand to boil the water instantly, and set about making his tea. From the back, he seemed just the same. Wide, narrow shoulders that led to a lean body. It appeared that his conviction that long, blond hair did not suit men had not changed - he refused to grow his hair like his fathers, and often joked about the length of Lucius'. Even in Lucius' presence a few times, who gave a few jibes back and was well accustomed to defending his golden locks that he was in fact so proud of.
Blaise still looked amused, twisting around in his chair to cock his brow at Draco's back before looking back at her. He gave a shrug that reminded her strongly that he was Italian, though she was beginning to find that shrug uniquely 'Blaise'.
Hermione brushed back a lock of hair distractedly, absently, to take away from the tension she felt. She then copped on - there was no reason for her to feel awkward or tense, there was nothing for her to worry about, and the only emotion she needed now was anger at the man now blatantly ignoring her.
Finally, after making his tea, Draco turned around casually. He held the cup in his hands, and she could see they were raw red from the cold, and took a small sip. "Bonjour Hermione - that insatiable curiosity didn't hold out very long, did it?"
He smirked and she narrowed her eyes - she was not about to play a game of banter and battle of the wits.
"Did you expect any less? No, I am not known for my ability to let the unknown go, so why don't you put me out of my misery and tell me why exactly I found you behind a piano in France?"
"Everyone has to earn a living, no?" He was still leaning against the counter, maddeningly cool in his approach to the whole thing. She stared into those unreadable grey eyes, trying to gain some sort of knowledge on his true stance to this, but all efforts were futile as he controlled his impassive expression - minus the flickers of humour.
"This is true.. What stumps me is why someone would have to leave a country and reasonably well paid job for one that is famously ill-paid.."
Draco chuckled a little, "Never could get one past you," Oh, wherever Draco Malfoy was, sarcasm was always soon to follow - guaranteed.
"The sarcasm is appreciated." She rolled her eyes, "Now could someone please tell me what is going on?"
Blaise finally spoke after observing the back-and-forth match between Hermione and Draco, thoroughly fed up with their verbal ping-pong match. "Draco had to kill a guy, simple as that."
Hermione blinked. "I'm sorry, I think I heard that wrong. Come again?"
"Draco still cries." Blaise lied smoothly, not batting a lid, but a smile blooming on his face.
Hermione wanted to roll her eyes again at Blaise's antics. "Hah, hah. I'm about to call Pansy Parkinson and alert her of your whereabouts - so I suggest someone starts talking or I-"
"Do it Draco, please don't let her come back⦠It was a close shave last time, I'm not sure I could survive that kind of pain again.." Blaise went on, melodramatically.
Draco gave him a roll of his eyes and an exasperated sigh, "Shut up, Blaise. He's telling the truth though, Granger. I haven't yet killed him - but now that you're here, it could make things a lot easier."
She wasn't quite sure what to make of those words.
