a's notes: I HATE YOU fanfic. first, i lose the original chapter containing Angry-Italian-Blaise. Then, the one i upload and MONUMENTALLY edit does NOT get saved. it vapourised :holds head in hands: why, WHY?
ps: i am sorry

DISCLAIMER:i quote William Shakespeare, 'it is enough I may but call her mine.' From what I gather, the Bard agrees with me, this fic is MINE!
And if you think I own Romeyo and Juliette, get your head examined.

CHAPTER V

In Which Blaise Quotes A Poet

Blaise followed Hermione into the library. Unknown to her, Blaise was the librarian's favourite visitor.
Sometimes Blaise had already issued the books Hermione had wanted. Only he usually returned them before Hermione had needed to issue them.

In all her years at school, Mione had never noticed anyone else besides those she wanted to-The Griffindors, a few chosen Ravenclaws; even the Slytherins who spelt trouble; just never Blaise Zabini.

'Mr. Zabini' the Librarian smiled warmly. She was the other person besides Draco that Blaise was on friendly terms with.

'Madame Pince,' he responded grinning, 'I hereby revoke your rights to look so enchanting in my house colours' he said disarmingly, indicating her barely visible green sundress underneath the robes.

'You noticed?' she laughed, not hiding her joy.

Hermione's mouth had dropped open sometime earlier during their exchange. Blaise nudged her and she clamped her mouth shut.
'Of course I did' he replied indignantly.

Madame Pince laughed again, thrilled to meet the one person who would take out time to drop by and ask about her. Blaise had sometimes spent his weekends just discussing books and poetry with the old, lonely lady.

'Ah! Miss Granger' the Librarian recognised Hermione, after Blaise thought Hermione sourly.
'So nice that you two are friends. The only people at Hogwarts who seem to care about fine literature' she smiled warmly again.

Blaise and Hermione finally made way to a table where he held out Mione's chair and went to pick out the book he wanted her to see.

Hermione was still surprised at Blaise. He was an astute reader, definitely charming, and had impeccable manners. And she was too caught up in her own world to notice anyone outside it. She would have missed Blaise's gorgeous existence completely had she not have chosen the same subject as him.

'Here' he whispered. Blaise flopped into a chair next to her with elegance. He leaned forward on the table to flip the pages of the book he placed before her.

Unknowingly, he was a breath away from Hermione. She could see his lashes and those sparkling purple eyes as they skimmed over the pages.

She noticed how skillfully he flipped pages.

Dammit. I am attracted to his page flipping skills?

But being around people who couldn't appreciate books or handle them with care, she was taken aback by Blaise. His refined etiquettes were making her feel insignificant.

'Here it is' he said softly. 'Read it' Blaise said, pointing at a passage in the book.

With great difficulty did Hermione take her eyes off his vibrant eyes and turned to the page. With even greater difficulty did she concentrate on the archaic English dialogues.

She nearly sighed in relief as Blaise leaned back in his chair. His proximity was driving Mione crazy.

Blaise looked at her as she softly read the lines out loud-

'O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear;
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!'

'Shakespeare' muttered Hermione to herself with a smile. She continued reading quietly; her eyes alight with that smile.

A smile that lights my way, as you speak my heart this day.

Blaise was gazing at her enchanting face. It had the innocence of al the fairies in the skies and captured the purity of the first raindrops of the season.

He remembered having uttered the lines Mione was now reading, to himself when he first saw her. He had known of her existence even then, but that was the day she became the centre of his.

Blaise was leaning against the doorframe when she had entered the Hall for the Yule Ball. Never had a sight entranced him enough to stare unabashedly at the object of his abject desire.

'Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.'

'The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand' read Hermione to herself; as she read the next line, "And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand" Blaise's hand brushed over hers.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she caught sight of his eyes turning a deep shade of Violet. He pulled her away from the book to face him.

'Let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair' he whispered, leaning closer towards her.

Then he paused, fear and doubt flashing through his eyes; He waited for her to pull back.

Hermione gently put her hand on his collar and pulled him forward to meet her soft, tender lips.

Moments later, Blaise and Hermione's eyes were still closed.

'Give me my sin again' he murmured, smiling.

'You kiss by the book' she smiled, and captured his soft, expert mouth with hers.