I've heard that it's been confirmed that Blaise Zabini is a guy.

…Awesome.

Disclaimer: I hereby disclaim Harry Potter (not that I ever claimed it was mine in the first place).

Career Choices

Chapter Three: The Secret

"I don't understand why we need to learn this. Who on earth loses their bones?"

Seamus and Hermione were walking from the hospital wing to the Gryffindor Commons, where the Healer group had been previously working on an extensive potions project. Professor Snape believed that in order for the three to become proficient healers, they had to experience the pain of their patients.

Bullshit.

The sadistic thing was, he wasn't the only professor that thought so. Every other week, Zabini and Seamus were taking turns getting injured and having the other two heal. Zabini hit himself in the thigh with a bludger bat until it turned black and blue. Seamus forced Harry to sneak into the kitchens to steal a butcher's knife, and proceeded to slice his arm so that it bled profusely. Blaise threw himself down the stairs until he could hear a definite crack in his ribs, and Seamus conjured a ball of fire and let it burn on his torso.

Overall, they were going to kill themselves. Hermione had felt awful standing on the sidelines, watching them as they literally threw themselves into dangerous situations just to get a cut, or a bruise, or a sting. She had wanted to participate so as to even the share a bit, but the boys wouldn't have it. Male pride, of course, and while Hermione felt indignant that they wouldn't treat her as an equal in that sense, she was admittedly grateful that she didn't have to jump off a cliff or battle a vicious plant or whatever the teachers wanted the students to do next.

In the end, all she was allowed to do was give them massages, because apparently "You're hands are the most heavenly things to ever touch this body!" courtesy of one Seamus Finnigan. Not surprisingly, all those life-and-death situations had them extremely stressed out, and according to Seamus, nothing beat stress like a good massage. Hermione was an adept masseuse, and while Zabini had been hesitant at first with Hermione touching his body, in the end he consented. It was now a common sight for Seamus and Zabini to throw themselves in front of her for massages.

This time, Blaise had Professor Flitwick perform the same charm that Lockhart had used to remove the bones on Harry's arm. Hermione laughed reminiscently, thinking of the second year incident. "You'd be surprised." She glanced at Seamus' incredulous look. "Do you remember Lockhart in second year?"

Seamus' face immediately contorted; who didn't remember the egotistical maniac? Hermione sighed, thinking of her pathetic second year crush. What an idiot she had been. "Well, do you remember when Harry broke his arm at one of the Quidditch tournaments?"

Seamus thought for a second, and then his face brightened with his recollection. "Oh yeah! Harry's arm looked like jelly." He laughed shortly, "Lockhart was such a fraud."

Hermione laughed with him, and they walked back in silence for a few moments before Seamus interrupted the quiet. "Hermione, why did you decide to go into healing?"

She raised an eyebrow; that was certainly unexpected. "I've just always been fascinated with it. I figure this is just another way to help people in need." Hermione paused, "Why?"

Seamus shrugged, "I was just wondering."

Come to think of it, they had never discussed their motives for being healers. Not once had the topic come up in their many discussions. She wondered why that was the case. "And you?" Seamus' frowned and Hermione quickly said, "That is, only if you want to tell me."

Seamus shook his head, "No, it's not a secret." His eyes clouded with emotion, so unusually different from Seamus' trademark happy-go-lucky expression. His voice was reminiscent, with a tinge of sadness underlying the surface. "My mother died a few years ago." Hermione opened her mouth to express her condolences but Seamus stopped her, "Don't worry about it. She had, I believe you call it cancer, of the breast. Something like that, and you know, it's rare for these kind of diseases to crop up with wizards and witches, so the healers didn't know what to do, and they weren't sure if a witch could handle Muggle treatments." His eyes flashed and his mouth turned down, "In the end, they didn't do anything. There weren't any real magic treatments for the cancer. Said it was too risky." He let out a short laugh. "Yeah, I suppose it would've been, but I don't know. I suppose they could've at least tried something." Seamus turned to her, eyes widening, "Hey, does the Muggle world even have anything to help with cancer of the breast?"

Hermione kept her gaze firmly on his. She knew the best thing was to tell him the truth, but she wasn't sure how he'd react. "Actually, yes. They do. In the Muggle world, breast cancer is a common disease, so they've come up with ways to treat it. It's not perfect, and sometimes doesn't work or makes it worse, but there have been successful cases."

Seamus nodded grimly. "I see." They walked in an uncomfortable silence, Seamus contemplating and Hermione taking it all in. Seamus chuckled wryly, "Well, I haven't answered your question, have I? I guess I'm doing this for my mother; I've wanted to do it since her death. I figure the least I could do for her is learn as much as I can about healing so that if I couldn't help her, then I could help others."

Hermione smiled at Seamus; she had never known him to be so serious. "That's very…" she paused, searching for the right word. "…noble of you." Seamus blushed slightly and by that time they had reached the commons, and it was to a peaceful quiet that they entered.

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Blaise looked up at the visitor and nodded his acknowledgment. "Hey."

Granger smiled, walking across the room to sit next to him. She grabbed his arm and started examining it, "How're you holding up?"

Blaise shrugged. "Fine, considering my bones are re-growing themselves as we speak." Just earlier in the day, Professor Flitwick had charmed the bones in his right arm to disappear leaving an odd floppy appendage in its place. Then he took the bone re-growth potion they had made earlier, commonly known as Skelegro. He shuddered at the remembrance of the vile drink, it was utterly disgusting and whatever idiot loses their bones deserved the potion.

Granger chuckled, softly applying pressure to the healing arm. "Tell me if anything hurts." It was soothing and relaxing, and Blaise felt the warmth of her hands hovering over his arm. Blaise had been unsure when Finnigan had proclaimed Granger's hands to be godlike, but now he had no doubt. Granger had smooth, soft hands that somehow always felt warm and nice. As Finnigan put it, it would've been a sin for Granger not to use those hands wisely. Her checkup didn't take long, and Hermione sat back, stretching slightly.

"Did anyone come visit?" It had been an inside joke of theirs, Granger always wondering whether anyone came to visit him when he was stuck in the hospital wing. Sometimes he had visitors, other times he didn't. The times he did were considered lucky, the times he didn't were evidence of his being unpopular (according to Granger).

Today he had a visitor, but he wouldn't call himself lucky. "Yeah, but it was Malfoy. I suppose he visited just to annoy me." Granger laughed and leaned forward, head resting in her arms on the bedside table. She sat like that for a few seconds, expression thoughtful, but before he could inquire as to what she was doing, she asked him a question.

"Why did you become a healer?"

Blaise barely moved, not expressing his surprise. That was random. He composed himself under his cool façade. "My father wanted me to be one."

Granger's brow furrowed. "Your father? Why do what your father wants you to? Can't you make your own decision?"

Blaise inhaled. He couldn't let her pry any further. "It is my father's opinion alone. I have no say in what my father wants for my future. I, like a good son should, obey my father." That, at least, was the truth.

But no, that didn't seem to placate Granger. "But this is a lifetime decision! It isn't your father's choice to make. It's yours!"

Blaise didn't even blink. "Perhaps, but it does not matter. My father feels it would be best for me to be a healer, and so I shall be."

To Blaise's horror, Granger's eyes widened and he watched as her eyes flickered down towards the flesh of his left forearm. Her eyes drifted back to his face, and then back to the forearm. It was a good thing they could only get the mark at eighteen.

Her body tensed, he could tell she was trying her hardest not to accuse him outright. After all, what real proof did she have? Blaise was an excellent actor, other than Malfoy, who had practically shouted to the mountaintops that he was going to be a Death Eater. Her mouth set in a grim line, Blaise had a sinking feeling that now that Granger had a suspicion, it would be a lot harder to work for her.

"Is…" Granger paused, attempting to phrase her question in an inoffensive way. "Is your father the only one you obey?"

Blaise had to hand it to her. She was garnering the suspicion that she was sitting by a prospective Death Eater, yet she still managed to be diplomatic about the situation. His face was straight, "I obey all those above me."

Granger's eyes pierced his own, chocolate question his blue. "Of course." She stood and patted her skirt down determinedly. "Dinner should be starting soon, so I probably should be going." She headed towards the door, but before she left, hand poised on the doorknob, she paused firmly.

"I think we both know what just happened here." Her voice was surprisingly clear, like crystal. She shifted slightly so that she was looking back at Blaise. "Let's agree to disagree. Let us continue working as a team, and let us forget this ever came up." She paused once more before leaving. "As much as I'm probably going to regret this, I won't tell anyone. I promise. After all, it is your life…secret to tell." And with that, she left.

Blaise cursed under his breath the moment the door closed behind her. Somehow she had deduced something that shouldn't have been found out. Something that was meant to be a secret. How had he slipped so horribly? Was his acting faulty? What was it?

This was not good.

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Dinner was an absolute nightmare.

Seamus had been retelling the whole bone removal story to the Gryffindor boys, who were all morbidly fascinated. Lavender and Parvati tried to pry some information about Zabini from her, but she could hardly think straight, let alone complete her sentences. She was barely able to get through her meal, awkwardly aware of Harry and Ron's curious stares. But they wouldn't understand. And besides, hadn't she promised not to tell?

She then groaned inwardly. Oh god. She had just offered to cover up for a death eater. What was the world coming to?

Blaise Zabini…Death Eater? Or, affiliated at least, because he didn't have the mark. Yet.

There wasn't any proof, and she had perhaps considered it at one point, but she had immediately dismissed the idea. It wouldn't do to think like that while they were a team. Just because he was a Slytherin didn't mean she had to stereotype. However, that conversation…

It was all in the reactions.

Zabini was too flawless. Hermione had noted it and had been suspicious about it at first. Then she had thought that that was just how he really was. Smooth and collected and perfect. He always said the right things, acted well, and was basically mature.

She never had even considered it to be an act to cover something up. The play of words, his staring perfectly composed at her. She was always the intuitive one, and somehow she just knew. He's hiding something.

Immediately her eyes swept down his arm to rest on his bare forearm, but when she glanced back into his own, they were still perfectly blank and collected, and then it was confirmed.

They were both very smart people. And now the secret was out.

Somehow she managed not to bolt immediately and kept her composure, playing with words just as he had done. He readily complied and the words they exchanged only further verified her suspicions.

She could barely look at him when she decided she would keep his secret. She mentally forced herself not to fidget or look nervous or bolt, but then once she had worded her promise she let herself go, nearly running out of the hospice.

And then, here she was. Unable to concentrate or eat or sit or think.

Suddenly she was feeling very claustrophobic.

She stood, smiling apologetically. "I've just remembered something I have to do. I'll see you guys later." The Gryffindors said their goodbyes and she swept her bag onto her shoulder walking briskly out, trying desperately to ignore the two pairs of footsteps running to catch up to her.

"Hermione."

She sped up but then they caught up to her, grabbing her on both sides. She flung around. "What?" her voice was tight, body tense.

Ron and Harry glanced at each other rather conspicuously before turning back to her. Harry kept a firm grip on one arm, thumb running smoothly over her skin. She pulled back violently and Harry didn't attempt to take her arm again. He swallowed, "What's wrong?"

She couldn't lie, they'd see through her in a heartbeat. "A lot. Look, I've got to go."

This time Ron grabbed her arm. "No, we're not stupid Hermione."

"Actually, you are." Goodness, where did that come from? God, why didn't they leave yet? She needed to go and think!

Ron grimaced, looking slightly hurt. "Right, so we are compared to you, but we can tell when something's wrong."

"And it's obvious that something is wrong," Harry cut in. "You can tell us, you know."

Hermione groaned. GO AWAY. Her brain was going into shock, and they weren't doing anything to help. "Actually, I can't." They opened their mouths to argue but Hermione interrupted. "This is something I can't talk about with anyone."

Ron's brow furrowed. "But Hermione, you tell us everything. We're best friends."

Hermione snorted, "Since when have I told you everything? I'm a girl, you two are guys. It's a rule that we don't tell each other everything."

Harry's eyes widened at Hermione's angry tone. "Well, that rule's never applied to us before."

That was it. She needed peace and she wasn't going to get with these two pillocks. "Look, Harry, do you really want to be a hero? Then go away."

Ron choked and Harry looked stricken. "I—I don't want to be a hero."

Hermione sank to the floor and buried her head in her hands. "Well, then go away anyway. Ron, Harry, I am stressed and I have found something out that I did not want to know and you two AREN'T HELPING. PLEASE GO AWAY." The last part was shrill, and by this time both Ron and Harry were looking furious.

"Fine!" Ron roared with enough ferocity for the two of them. "We'll go. See if we try to ever help you again!" And they both stomped away with anger blazing in their eyes.

Now with her peace, she sat with her back against the wall of the hallway. She took a few deep breaths in and out. What was she going to do?

It struck her later that maybe she was a little rude about the situation.

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Seamus' eyes were wide as he turned to Hermione. "What exactly happened yesterday night? Those two came storming into the dorm rooms and I thought they'd sleep it off but they still looked royally pissed off." Zabini glanced at them curiously.

"Lover's spat?" Zabini asked, looking piercingly into her eyes.

Hermione swallowed. She had thought a lot the other night about what she going to do about the situation and finally came to the conclusion. Okay, so Zabini was doing something for Voldemort. Fine, fine, she could deal with that. He didn't seem totally evil. She could deal with that too. In the end, if he played nice, then she would too.

She smiled exhaustedly. She didn't have to pretend to be tired; she didn't get much sleep the other night. "Ha, Zabini. For your information, though let me remind you that it is none of your business, we got into a slight argument the other night."

Seamus looked at her. "Slight?" He gestured to Ron and Harry, who were pointedly ignoring her and seething. "You call that slight?"

Hermione groaned lightly, "Okay, so maybe it was more than slight…"

Seamus chuckled, "Maybe, she says."

Hermione laughed, "Seamus, I'm trying my best to forget yesterday night. Can we talk about something else?" The double meaning wasn't lost on Zabini. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he looked at her. She glanced at him and went back to writing the assignment.

Seamus nodded with an apolegetic grin. "Beautiful spring day," he said nonchalantly and Hermione slapped him lightly.

"Shut up, Seamus."

When class was over, they had a thirty-minute break before the next one started, and Seamus left to meet up with Dean. This left Zabini with Hermione in a rather awkward silence.

It was Zabini that broke it. "So, what exactly was the argument about?"

She decided to tell him the truth. "Something that I found out yesterday left me very shaken, and Harry and Ron wanted to help but they were only being annoying. We all acted very immaturely and now we're too proud to admit we were wrong." She hoped she had worded that all right. She scoffed, "In retrospect, it was pretty pathetic, what with us acting like we were two years old."

Apparently she had, because Zabini nodded understandingly, looking out a window as they passed by. "That must've been quite a piece of information for you to have been so shaken by it."

Hermione's eyes sought Zabini's, but he wasn't looking at her. "It was."

"How did you find out?" His voice was quiet, deeper, confused. He locked his eyes onto hers, deep navy onto rich chocolate. "How did you know?"

She couldn't believe she was about to reassure a potential death eater. What was she thinking? "Your acting was excellent. Too excellent. I often wondered why you seemed so perfect. And…I don't know how I suddenly figured it out, but then, I suddenly knew. I can't quite figure it out myself."

It was quiet for a second, the silence contemplative. "You thought I was perfect?"

Hermione flushed. "Well, you acted like a mature gentleman. You don't find many of those in our year. Believe me, the girls have tried."

Zabini raised a brow. "And yet, most of the Hogwarts girls have boyfriends."

Hermione scoffed. "Oh please, that's only because they settled." Immediately she raised a hand to her mouth. Did she really just say that?

Zabini let out a surprised laugh and Hermione looked at him in surprise. She had never actually heard his laugh. It wasn't unpleasant; a deep, rich baritone.

"Settled?" Amusement was clear in his eyes. "I doubt many of the Hogwarts men would be very pleased to hear you say that."

"And that is why you aren't going to tell them," she mock warned him. Thank god, she thought gratefully, they weren't going to be awkward around each other.

"Of course not." His eyes were bright with laughter and Hermione raised a brow. "You keep my secret, I keep yours."

And then it was silent.

"Zabini—"

"Granger—"

They paused and Zabini gestured for her to continue.

She swallowed but continued hesitantly. "You should smile more."

Zabini's eyes widened. "What?"

She took a deep breath. "Smile. Laugh. Be natural. Happiness looks good on you." She immediately stopped herself from banging her head against the wall. She couldn't believe she just said that. She just wanted to state a fact, but the comment was almost…flirty, and lord knows Hermione Granger didn't flirt. He better not have misconstrued that in any way.

Thankfully, Zabini didn't, or if he did, he didn't show it. "Well, thank you. I'll remember that." They walked a few minutes more before Hermione remembered that Zabini had wanted to say something earlier, so she asked him.

"Oh, well, I just wanted to know if you'd ever settle." …Was Zabini flirting with her?

Hermione laughed. Of course not, she doubted that word was even in his vocabulary. He was too serious for it. "Me? No way." An impish grin settled on her face. "You should know me by now Zabini, you know I'd never settle for anything less than the best."

Zabini looked at her a minute, and then slowly grinned. "Good luck finding someone."

She smiled wistfully, "Unfortunately, when it comes to love and romance, I'm afraid I'm going to have to."

Zabini raised a brow. "And why is that?"

Hermione shrugged. "No man is perfect, therefore, I have to settle for imperfection." Was she really having this conversation with Blaise Zabini of all people?

"But I thought you said I was perfect."

She turned around and put her hands on her hips. "No, you acted perfect. That's different. Being real and perfect, that's something no one can do."

Zabini looked thoughtful. "I wasn't aware there was a difference." His brow furrowed slightly. "As a Zabini, it's my job to be perfect."

She glanced at his attentive expression and placed a hand on his arm, "Zabini, no one's perfect."

His eyes were unreadable as he gazed at her. "No one?" She shook her head negatively.

"No one."

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Granger was definitely an enigma.

When she had left the hospital wing the other night, he had been terrified of whether she actually was going to tell people. Then he was horrified when he realized that she knew something a Gryffindor definitely shouldn't and why wasn't Dumbledore here to expel him yet?

He had a hard time going to sleep.

But then the next morning he went to breakfast and everything was as it should've been. He sat with the Slytherins and ate a hearty meal and then went to their first class of the day, when the fear of being caught began to seep through his bones once more.

For some odd reason, Potter and Weasley were completely furious and ignoring Granger, and that didn't bode well. Was it about yesterday night? Did she tell her friends? Oh what was he thinking, of course she told them. They're her best friends!

He couldn't really focus during class either.

But then when Finnigan left and Blaise asked her about the argument, Granger told him the real reason and he was left feeling very much relieved. He was almost positive Granger couldn't lie to save her life, though if she had to save other lives she might've been able to… No, by her expression, he knew she was telling the truth. After all, he could read people very well. He wasn't an observer for nothing.

And then somehow they were talking about settling and romance and about smiles and perfection when it hit him.

He actually enjoyed Granger's company.

She was attentive, intelligent, kind, funny, loyal, brave, and so many sickeningly sweet adjectives that it momentarily surprised him. She was slowly becoming something more than an acquaintance. Even with the knowledge she now possessed, she was becoming something more. Something like a friend.

And that was when he knew it'd have to stop.

What a ridiculous train of thought.

He sat down and hurriedly pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. Don't be stupid, Blaise. Thinking quickly, he started to write.

Dear Father,

I hope I am not sending this update too late. School is, as usual, quite boring. I have been doing nothing but research spells and brew potions. Lately, it has become quite tedious. As you know, my work has been the sole thing in my mind, and please give our boss my highest regards.

Speaking of work, of the puzzle we are trying to solve, the red and black pieces seem to want to separate from the brown. Unfortunately that is all that is new. The three puzzle pieces are being obstinately tight and close with each other. I apologize; I wish I could be of more help.

I hope all is well back home. How is mother doing?

I expect your owl soon, your son.

He reread it quickly before sending it off with his owl. And once it had flown away he found he couldn't breathe.

What had he just done?

The answer came with another owl that met him just as he was about to go asleep.

Son,

I admit I was expecting a letter sooner, but these things take time, do they not? I am pleased you have found something new in that blasted puzzle of ours. The boss is very pleased and we are dealing with the issue as I write this letter. Expect something different with that study group of yours.

Your mother is fine. I expect you will finish this year strong and return to us. The boss and our family misses you.

Blaise looked out the window, gazing at the tranquil night air.

Study group? Granger…

What had he done?

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Author's Notes:

Hey everyone. Back in two weeks, like I promised. It's a bit short compared to the other chapters, but variety is the spice of life, non? Anyway, I know the timeline may've been a little rushed, but I think it's okay. But enough about me, what about you? Comments, criticisms, concerns? Lay 'em on me. Please?