You are flame and fire
That light my desire
You are wind and water
A storm and a bother,
But I can't stop looking for you
I am like glass and just as blue.
But to you I can't help but be true.
I can't keep my eyes off you.
Hermione had the note in her hand - she almost wanted to crunch it into a ball, though she refrained, because, after all it was still a clue, even if it was a lie. Maybe it was just a metaphor? But, Hermione'd looked, tried to see who it was - this boy staring at her. Wouldn't it be creepy if someone really was staring at her?
Blaise rose and walked with her to the library, or almost, at any rate. He beckoned her into an abandoned classroom, and then motioned for her to zip it.
Quietly, he spun webs of silence around them, the magic sparkling...
"How did you?" Hermione asked, staring at wonder at the spells.
"My mother's spells," Blaise said, smiling bitterly, "You didn't think they call her the Black Widow for nothing, did you?"
"They're so beautiful..." Hermione said, stretching her hand out.
"Ah-ah, touch them and you'll bleed." Blaise said.
"Wow, was it... so secret?" Hermione said.
Blaise nodded somberly, "I'll have your answer now," he said crisply, as if collecting himself again.
"Yes. I will do you a favor, in return for you telling me who the writer of these letters is." Hermione said, gesturing with one of them towards Blaise.
"I said I'd tell you what I can," Blaise said, mildly reprovingly.
Hermione nodded, with a suspicious look, on the verge of wringing his neck until he spoke.
"The writer of those letters is in Slytherin House." Blaise said.
"And that's all you can tell me?" Hermione spit back, frustrated, her hands in fists. "Is this some sort of Slytherin Thing? Presenting a united front?"
"If it was that, silly child, I wouldn't be here," Blaise said, his white teeth gleaming out of his bright smile. "However, I will tell you why I can't tell you anything more... for another favor."
Hermione stomped her foot, saying irritabily, "I haven't even heard what the first favor is!"
"As to that, you really should learn to set clauses on favors. I could have asked for your firstborn son, you know." Blaise said.
"You could have him!" Hermione shot back, to which Blaise raised his eyebrows.
"You'd really barter so much...?" Blaise said.
"Listen, if you were really going to ask me to do something shady, I'd simply tell a teacher!" Hermione said.
"If you ever deal with a Slytherin again, for Merlin's sake, limit the favor." Blaise said, "Just simple advice, kindly meant, even."
"As for my favor," Blaise said, "There's a Yule Dance coming up."
Hermione frowned, her lips parting to ask if he meant to ask her out as his favor...
"You'll dance with every Slytherin that asks," Blaise said, his teeth gleaming.
Hermione glared at him, unsure whether she was upset, or what she was really upset about, before snapping back, "So be it."
"Relax, I'll make certain that they don't hurt you. Besides, it would reflect badly on our house."
"I'll think about your offer," Hermione said grimly, before stalking off. Behind her, Blaise laughed.
[a/n: Blaise is having fun. Hermione is frustrated. Leave a review, and if you guess what Blaise is going to do next, well, good for you!
(I do hope you can see what Blaise would say, on a "here's why I can't tell you more.")
Blaise is a Slytherin. Draco's Identity is a Valuable Bargaining Chip. Not to be simply squandered for No Good Reason.]