authors note:
hello! sorry it took so long for an update, im in the midst of moving so my life has been rather hectic. if you read paradise lost, an update should be up by the end of the week. thank you very much for the reviews i got on this story, it really makes my day whenever i see one! they are so kind, so thank you, and i hope this lives up to your expectations. if you are reading and not reviewing, which about 300 of you are... :( come on now, that's just not right.
il principe, two
Transfiguration essay completed and in hand, it suddenly dawned on Blaise that he had been humiliated. Machivellian princes do not get mocked, humiliated, or embarrassed. Especially by Gryffindors. Especially by that insufferable prissy know-it-all stuck up little bit- it was at this point that Blaise suddenly realized that he had been grumbling angrily as he stalked ruthlessly down the corridor. Scowling, he glanced over to see a terrified second year Hufflepuff braced wide-eyed against the wall, as if in Blaise's rage he might destroy anything in his path.
"What are you staring at?" he barked, "Get out of here!" Eager to obey, or perhaps terrified to do the opposite, the Hufflepuff fled in a whirl of pudge, yellow, and black.
Much better. Blaise was now able to continue his grumbling angry rant as he marched down into the dungeons. This particularly distraught scene was completed by a fierce kick to an unresponsive stone wall. In pain, angry, and humiliated Blaise stumbled into the Slytherin common room. Movement stopped as every student inside turned to stare at the usually composed boy. Blaise simply growled and pushed children out of the way left and right before making his way up the stairs and collapsing on his bed, exhausted. Emotions were rather tiring, he decided. Blaise made a mental note not to try them again anytime soon.
Hermione, on the other hand, chortled her way all the way back to the Gryffindor common room, not even pausing to reprimand an overly touchy feely fourth year couple in the hallway. Instead she simply skipped by. Hermione had gone down to the library in search of comfort amongst the smell of parchment and old leather of her precious books. She had been set off again by Ron's childish insults and jibes, but after that amusing encounter with Zabini she cheered up greatly. It was awful lonely at times to have to deal with Ron's constant picking on her, and Hermione was not known for her ability to withstand his insults. She was a Gryffindor, not some cold Slytherin. She had feelings.
On the topic of Slytherin though, Hermione smiled to herself as she stepped through the portrait hole, Zabini was absolutely hilarious. The look on his face when he thought she was about to punch him…priceless. Chuckling merrily to herself she strolled right past Harry and Ron playing wizard chess in front of the fire. Not even stopping as she ruffled their hair affectionately, she pranced up the stairs to her room.
Harry and Ron both remained frozen in place after Hermione had swooped by giggling. Harry was in the midst of taking off his jumper, while Ron's fingers still held onto the head of his queen- mouth open in the middle of "Check." They both finally shook themselves free of their stupor as Ron exclaimed, "Honestly! That girl is scary at times."
Blaise woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. He would just put the incident with the Granger brat behind him. No one saw it, no one had to know. Smirking to himself in his characteristic Slytherin way (they never smiled, only smirked) he carefully dressed himself neatly and began his usual presumptuous march across the castle to the Great Hall, slipping through shadows as he went- he couldn't avoid being a mysterious inky shade even at 7 am.
No one was usually up this early on a Saturday except for the occasional Ravenclaw or two, so Blaise had no problem throwing open the doors of the Great Hall, puffing out his chest, and slinking over to the Slytherin table dramatically (yet silently). As soon as the doors flew open, however, Blaise realized that there was something horribly and miserably wrong. Granger was sitting at the Gryffindor table happily munching on a piece of toast while reading a book propped up against a jug of juice. To make matters worse, her two idiots Potter and Weasley were slumped up against the table; Potter shovelling eggs into his mouth while Weasley slept face down in his oatmeal.
Don't let her look at me…don't let her look…Blaise prayed as he slipped over and took his place at the end of his house table.
But alas. To Blaises' dismay Hermione took one glance over at the poor boy and burst into laughter again. Ron awoke with a start, causing oatmeal to fly everywhere and an unused fork to sail halfway across the great hall and land on the Slytherin table right in front of Zabini, prongs deep in the wood. Simultaneously, a glob of oatmeal smacked him in the face.
"Great shot, mate!" Harry cheered enthusiastically, "should've tried out for chaser instead!"
"Mmph idstil haf ta wake upthis early for your practicemm," Ron rubbed his eyes blearily, "why'd ya do that for anyway-ay-ayy" he trailed off in a large yawn.
Harry shook his head, "I told you, only time pitch was available this weekend. Anyway, Hermione what was so funny?"
Blaise watched, wide eyed, as Hermione leaned conspiratorially with the two boys while shooting him furtive glances. In a moment, both Harry and Ron had burst into laughter as well, tears welling up in their eyes as they looked over at the sulking Slytherin.
Fuming, Blaise grabbed the fork from the wood of the table and began to eat his meal.
Three and a half hours later, Blaise had counted down to the minute, he marched up to Hermione's table in the library where she was happily pouring herself into another one of her three feet over the minimum requirement essays. He slammed his fists down in front of her and glared.
Hermione looked up with a start, but soon broke into a grin when she saw Blaise.
"Good morning, Zabini!" she chirped cheerily, "Have a good breakfast?"
Blaise growled, "Absolutely not! No thanks to you and your little sidekicks. How dare you all laugh at me! And Weasley got oatmeal on me, you know. These robes where expensive, much more than he can dare to afford I'd say," Blaise sneered accordingly. He didn't like to go into all out snarky Slytherin mode often, and really didn't care about Weasley's finances at all. Still sometimes it was necessary to preserve ones wounded pride.
Hermione merely smiled, "Oh come on Blaise," she spoke conversationally, "you have to admit that it's all rather funny. Your problem is that you have no idea how to laugh at yourself. That's what makes it all the more hilarious."
Blaise frowned, "Why on earth would I want to laugh at myself when I've already got you embarrassing me constantly?" he pouted. Since when do I pout! Blaise thought angrily to himself, or at least he thought he said it to himself…the grin on Hermione's face said otherwise.
The girl just chuckled again, "Exactly what I'm talking about. You're much too, whats the term? Anal retentive. And this is coming from me, by the way, so you know that means a lot." She winked at him and grinned before gathering up her belongings and swooping from the library.
Blaise stood there stunned for the second time in a day.
…..What did she just call me?!
"GRANGER!!" came a bellowed cry across the library. Hermione had stopped halfway across the library terrified, and Blaise was looking murderous. On that note, actually, so did Madam Pince.
Shit.