THE TENDER TRAP

Summary: It was only supposed to be a bet, a game, just meant for someone to walk away with the prize. Hearts weren't supposed to go spiraling out of control. But no one told Draco and Hermione that.

Pairing: Hermione/Draco, Ginny/Blaise Zabini

***

   It was Saturday morning, and the Slytherin Common room was still and sparsely occupied with a few early birds. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were a few of them. The blonde and the dark-haired boy sat in a corner, hunched over a Wizard Chess set.

"Ah, come on, take him!" Blaise Zabini hissed at one of his pawns. "It's only the Bishop, get him!"

The pawn was crushed to shards by Draco's Bishop. Blaise sighed and sat back in the chair, running a hand through his dark hair. "Ah," he said, "that's rotten luck."

Draco laughed. "Let the best man win, Zabini."

Blaise grinned, but in actuality was paying little attention to Draco's words. His mind was occupied on the bet he and Ginny had made last night—the one concerning Draco and a certain Gryffindor Muggle-born.

Blaise was just debating a tactful way to mention this to Draco, when Draco asked, "So where were you last night, Zabini? When I tuned out you were still out," Draco said.

   Taking precautionary measures against parental (and, in Ginny's case, sibling) interference, Blaise and Ginny had kept their relationship quiet, only telling there nearest and dearest. Blaise, of course, had told nobody; being in Slytherin had taught him a few things.

Although Voldemort had been defeated in January of their sixth year by Potter, and most of the Death Eaters thrown into Azkaban to rot for all eternity, they both knew that one could never bee to careful. Of course, Blaise's father had never been an outright supporter of the Dark Lord, but both knew Mr. Weasley would not take kindly to a Slytherin boyfriend.

So naturally, for fear of an argument, Blaise had been rather vague with Draco as to who his new sweetheart was.

"Oh, you know…I felt like a walk," Blaise said evasively, regarding Draco's question. Draco snorted. "A walk right up to the Astronomy Tower, right," he said, smirking. Blaise said nothing but hid a grin.

Draco cocked an eyebrow, sitting back to study his friend. "Well, Blaise, aren't you going to tell me who the new conquest is?"

   Blaise groaned. "For the last time, Malfoy, no! I'm not at liberty to say, Gi—" Blaise stopped himself. He had been about to say, "Ginny'd kill me." He cleared his throat loudly. "I'm not telling."

But Draco's interest had been sparked. "Zabini, are you dating a Hufflepuff?" he asked suspiciously. Blaise let out a sigh—he thought Draco was going to ask if he was dating Ginny Weasley.

"Nope."

"A Ravenclaw?"

"Negative, amigo."

Draco's expression was thoughtful. He rubbed his chin. "Well," he said, thinking hard, "You can't be going with a Slytherin, because I would have heard about it. That means," he said, eyes growing bright, "Good God, Zabini, you're dating a Gryffindor!"

   Blaise closed his eyes and rested his head on his chair. "Guilty as charged," he mumbled, trying to remain calm, and think of a way to bring the bet up. "But you really can't—"

"Who is it?" Draco asked quickly. "Is it someone in our year? That Lavender Brown isn't so bad looking, and neither is her friend, what's-her-face, Pav-something?"

Blaise shook his head. "Look, Malfoy, just drop it, okay?" Blaise hissed, turning back to the forgotten chess set. He racked his brain for a pliable way to bring Granger into their conversation.

Draco got up from his seat and began to pace the room, now thoroughly intrigued. "So she isn't in our grade then," he said, staring out the high window. Draco turned back to Blaise. "She's younger, then?"

   Blaise frowned. "You haven't gone through every Gryffindor girl in our year. There's still Granger."

Draco stared at him for a moment before bursting into hysterical peals of laughter. "Mud-Mudblood Granger?" Draco gasped between cackles. "Come on, Zabini! She" laughter, "hangs with" cackle "Potter and Weasely!" Draco was doubled over from peals of raucous laughter.

Blaise patiently waited for Draco to stop laughing. He had finally thought of a way to tell Draco his little assignment. Something that would compromise his and Ginny's agreement about not telling anyone about them, but it would get Draco to carry through.

"If you're finished, Malfoy," Blaise said calmly, "I've got a little proposition to make."

 At these words, Draco straightened up immediately. His eyes were alive with interest; a deal with Blaise always meant a little give and take for both sides.

"You see," Blaise said, gathering all the chess pieces and spelling them all back together, "I've made a bet with…my 'conquest', as you so eloquently put it. The bet was that no Slytherin guy could ever get a Gryffindor girl to fall in love with him." Here, he stopped to look up at Draco. The blonde boy was looking coolly interested, a trait he had probably learned from his now-imprisoned father.

"Go on," Draco said, head tilted back.

   Blaise cleared his throat. "And I was thinking…if you will agree to do this, I'll tell you who my little…er, 'conquest' is, alright?"

Draco looked a little skeptical. Love for a little bit of information, he thought, sizing it up in his mind shrewdly. "A little more detail, if you please," he said smoothly. Blaise straightened up.

"The deal I made was, you have to get a Gryffindor chick to fall for you. Head over heels and all that crap, you know, Malfoy? The girl I'm with picked you to woo her friend. We shook hands and everything, the whole nine yards. So I can't back out, either. What do you say, Draco? You up for a challenge?"

Draco mulled it over in his head. Was he up for a challenge? What kind of bull question was that—everyone knew Draco Malfoy was always ready for a challenge. Why, I could have every girl in this school at my feet in a second, he thought arrogantly, smoothing his blonde (gel-less) hair back. Wait—I already do.

   Still, he only ever dated (or made out with) Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff or Slytherin girls. He never went near the goody-goody Gryffs. The mere thought repulsed him.

But Draco knew this wasn't a very hard challenge—his mother had told him from a very young age that his looks could get him mostly anything he wanted. And Draco knew it to be true—there was little that blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and a pulchritudinous smile couldn't get you.

   What could one more worshipper hurt, anyway? Draco thought. Grinning wickedly, he turned back to Blaise. "Am I ever," he replied to Blaise's original question. "Who's the prey this time? For both of us?" he added, remembering Blaise's part of the deal.

Blaise smirked. "Blast. I knew you'd remember that," he chuckled, sighing. "Okay—you wanna hear? I'm dating…Ginny Weasley."

Blaise had expected more peals of laughter, but all he got was stunned silence.

"No. Way. Ron the Slow's kid sister?" Draco said in a low, awed voice. He shook his head. "No way."

Blaise shrugged. "Yeah…but back to business. You're leading on Hermione Granger. Ginny's friend," he said in a business-like tone, something he had learned very quickly from his father.

This news was greeted by a loud *thud!*--Draco had fallen of his chair in shock.

"Man, ya gotta stop doing that," Blaise said, watching nonchalantly as Draco picked himself off the floor.

But Draco wasn't smiling—far from it. On the contrary, he had a shocked, 'you-must-be-joking' loom about his face, mixed with a look that knew he was all too sure Blaise was being truthful. He seemed to flounder for a line, before spitting out, "You've picked the impossible, Zabini."

Blaise snorted. If he only knew, he thought. Draco was about to get the surprise of his life when Granger tried to seduce him. But that was something to come a little later, he reminded himself. Instead he focused back into what Draco was saying.

   "I mean, good God, she practically lives in the bloody Library, she's like a walking encyclopedia or something! Not to mention the bushy hair!" Draco's face was quite red, and he was waving his arms about for punctuation. "No piece of information is worth being seen with…that, Zabini, no flipping way!" With that, Draco sat on the chair and stubbornly crossed his arms. Blaise hid laughter; Draco could at times remind one of an angry five-year-old.

    But still, Draco's refusal created a whole host of new problems. Blaise had to get him to participate, or else risk joining Gryffindor House for a week. Wait'll that gets back to Dad, he thought morosely. Vittorio Zabini was not one know for 'Inter-house friendships.' Still there had to be something to bribe Draco with…

   And suddenly it hit him—of course! The Falmouth Falcons! Blaise thought, mentally smacking himself for not thinking of it sooner.

Vittorio Zabini, Blaise's father, was the owner of the rough-and-tumble, hard-playing Quidditch League team, the Falmouth Falcons. The Falcons were truly a Slytherin team, heart and soul, the team's motto being, "Let us win, but if we cannot win, let us break a few heads."

Blaise knew for a fact that the Falcon's Seeker, Arnaud Stonewall, was planning on retiring after this year, and Draco's dream was to become a League-level Seeker. Convincing his father to sign Draco would hardly be any problem at all; Draco had all the skill and talent one person could have on a broomstick.

   A perfect plan, Blaise thought confidently, smirking to himself. Leaning forward, he said in a low voice, "Hey, Malfoy. How would you like a job offer…"

*********

Hewwo!

Ah. Shortie chapter, I know. It's late thought, and I have all-day rehearsals for a play I'm in, so I don't have a lot of time. It's crazy; this is supposed to be summer and therefore time to RELAX. Heh. Yeah right.

Anyway, I started writing chapter four already so I'll post it by Saturday, but hopefully tomorrow.

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*Madame (press the button press the button press the button)