"What have you got there, Granger?"
Hermione Granger looked up guiltily, her face flushing as she hid the parchment she had been reading. Blaise Zabini was looking at her with amusement, obviously pleased that he had caught her doing something she felt guilty about, his indigo eyes curious as he removed his robe and laid it across the back of his chair before walking towards her desk. She allowed her eyes to move over his tall frame, again thinking that he needed to eat more because he was too skinny. Not that his slim figure detracted from his attractiveness. Oh no, she couldn’t be that fortunate. Blaise was not only one of the more intelligent wizards that she had ever met, he was also one of the sexiest.
Olive complexion, dark blue eyes that were nearly black, thick black hair that had just enough curl to cause one’s fingers to itch to run through the raven locks, a thin face with high cheekbones and full lips and even his nose, which was a bit large, managed to look attractive to her eyes. He was a head taller than her at least and moved with the grace of a panther, elegantly and effortlessly, never tripping on his large feet or stumbling from his lanky frame.
He could fade into the background and simply be overlooked if he chose or he could command the attention of everyone around by smiling a perfect smile and being utterly charming. She had noticed, however, that he preferred the former option, not very comfortable at playing the charming rogue even if he could do it so well. That, of course, did not mean that he did not deliberately flirt with her at every opportunity, knowing that it flustered her to be treated in such a way by a handsome wizard such as himself and taking an annoying delight in causing her to blush or act like a silly immature female.
The dark Slytherin had never caught her attention during their years at Hogwarts, which was ironic considering his handsome looks and quiet intelligence, not to mention the charming wit that he displayed after she had gotten to know him, were everything that she found attractive in a man. It was only after they began working together at Hogwarts, Blaise having the position of Snape’s apprentice and she accepting a position in the library while she studied for her qualifications to teach Charms and Transfiguration, that she had actually paid attention to him. She had known him from some of her classes, the raven-haired wizard taking the same accelerated classes as she had during their last years at Hogwarts, but she had never spoken to him beyond the brief polite hello.
When she had first arrived back at the school, he had been reserved and distant, a bit unfriendly and it had struck her as amusing that he got along so well with Snape since they appeared to have similar attitudes. It had bothered her, his aloofness and refusal to engage in a conversation with her, though she had no idea why it upset her. Then, about six weeks after she’d been working in the library, he had come in to request some texts from the Restricted Section and she had accompanied him to the stacks to locate them. He had been somewhat friendly, a bit shy and nervous, and she’d looked into his eyes and felt as someone had punched her in the stomach.
Standing so close to him, listening to his husky voice as he rattled on about some silly potion or another, she had realized something. The reason she was tense and uncomfortable around him wasn’t because he was a former Slytherin but because she found him unbelievably attractive and wanted to get to know him better. Okay, that was an understatement. She wanted him, in every way imaginable. That had been six months ago and he still managed to get her excited and aroused and uncertain with every friendly smile he sent her way.
The brunette witch hid the letter she had been reading, hoping he would just forget about it, removing the sugarquill from her mouth and giving him a perfected look of calm that did not betray her inner turmoil where Blaise was concerned. "Zabini, what brings you to the office at this time of night?"
"You weren’t at dinner," he arched a brow as his eyes strayed to the parchment before looking back at her. Merlin, she was beautiful. He forgot what he was going to say for a moment, feeling like a hapless boy around her instead of the somewhat confident man of twenty-four that should have been flirting and charming her out of her knickers. Thinking about Hermione‘s knickers had vivid images flashing in his mind, the dark Slytherin looking away from her to stare out the window, his eyes focusing on the half moon as he muttered, "I was concerned."
"I was working," Hermione felt her lips curving into a pleased smile at his words, the logical part of her mind telling her heart to stop beating so quickly because he was merely being a good friend but the romantic part of her mind couldn’t help but wonder if he might feel the attraction, also.
"What are you reading?" he asked as he looked back at her, his eyes moving over her face and lingering on her lips. He didn’t know what it was about Hermione Granger that affected him so much. She had bushy hair that she could never control, was overly opinionated and had no problems letting anyone around know exactly what she thought, was bossy and still had that irritating know-it-all attitude even at twenty-four, and she got under his skin in a way that no one ever had before and probably never would.
Her beauty was natural, though many would consider her average. He loved her hair, the unruly mess the most beautiful shades of brown and he often wondered if it was as soft as it appeared. He loved her eyes, the intelligence and honestly that were always present as well as the desire that would flash in their chocolate brown depths when she thought he wasn’t looking. He loved the way her cheeks would flush when she was excited or arguing with someone, most usually Snape, about something she was passion about, always wondering what she would look like if consumed with passion for him. Would she be that intense, that focused, giving him her entire attention as they made love for hours?
He loved her figure, the soft curves and full breasts and long legs, preferring her slender yet womanly shape to those thin witches that looked as if they never ate. He loved that she enjoyed chocolate and sweets and that she would use a quill to keep her hair off her neck when she was busy. He loved that she wasn’t afraid of standing up for what she believed, that she was loyal and devoted to those she loved, that she wasn’t as caught up in the girly feminine pursuits of most witches her age. In fact, about the only thing he didn’t love about her was her obliviousness to his attraction and growing infatuation with her, considering his flirting a joke and never taking him seriously.
He had had to resort to more drastic measures, having spent months trying to woo the pretty witch, much to the amusement of the rest of the staff and even a majority of the blasted students. He could have simply told her that he fancied her and wanted to take her to Hogsmeade for coffee and possibly spend the rest of his life telling her how beautiful she was, but he was a Slytherin and such emotional chatter was something he was entirely unfamiliar with, so he had tried more subtle ways of getting her attention. He had flirted for Merlin’s sake! He never flirted, having little use for such foolish games, yet he had attempted it, rather well in his opinion, for Hermione.
Had she noticed? No, she’d just laughed and ruffled his hair like he was that dolt Potter. He happened to need book after book, giving him an excuse to go the library. Dumbledore had even given them this room to use as a joint office, the Headmaster playing matchmaker in his own way, their courtship closely followed by most of the bloody school. But she still didn’t see that he was serious, that he wanted to get to know her better, that he thought she was a perfect blending of beauty and brains and thought she was absolutely smashing. That he wanted her in his life until they were old and gray and had a dozen grandchildren they could spoil rotten.
Blaise watched her look at the letter before looking back at him, obviously trying to devise some sort of falsehood to appease him without actually giving any information away. He couldn’t resist a little teasing since he knew exactly what was in the letter, having spent most of the previous evening writing his most illicit fantasies about the beautiful witch before him. He wouldn’t tell her that it had been Minerva’s idea, the older witch cornering him after lunch yesterday and shocking him as she informed him in her no nonsense tone that he had been a coward long enough and that it was time for him to action.
She’d insulted his Slytherin-ness and then had the gall to threaten him with making an announcement at dinner regarding his feelings for Hermione if he didn’t get his head out of his arse and do something romantic and drastic. After getting past the initial repulsion of his former Transfiguration professor giving him advice on his love life, or lack thereof, and suggesting he tell Hermione exactly what he wanted from her going so far as to use the word fantasies, something he never again wanted to hear Minerva discuss, he had thought about her suggestion and come up with a plan. No one insinuated that he was not sneaky and brave enough to be called a Slytherin, damn it. With a slight smirk, he asked, "What is it, Granger? A sordid love note from a secret admirer? Come on, you can tell me."
"What?" Hermione squeaked, grimacing as she heard the breathless tone in her voice. She sounded like some wanton hussy, all breathy and seductive. Merlin, who could blame her? She’d just read several pages of the most erotic words she had ever read, addressed to her and giving her no doubt that she was the woman described in such naughty detail and then to have the object of her fantasies standing in front of her. Well, it was just too much. She needed a cold shower. A very cold shower.
"Are you warm, Hermione?" he purred her name, his eyes on hers as he deliberately ran his tongue over his bottom lip, noting with satisfaction that she watched the action and bit her lip to keep from moaning. How long had she wanted him? He’d been so caught up in trying to entice her that he hadn’t noticed she was attracted to him. No wonder Severus was constantly making fun of him. He’d been just as oblivious as she was to his feelings.
"The room is rather hot," she stammered as she tried to look away from his dark blue eyes, trying to figure out what was different about his flirting tonight. Usually, he was charming but always a bit shy when he was teasing her, making it easier for her to remind herself that he was just playing around like any of her male friends. Tonight, though, he was confident and secure, his words rolling over her and sending tingles throughout her body. He was looking at her with desire. Merlin, when did that happen?
"What’s your letter say, Hermione?" he asked again as his eyes moved over her face and lingered on her lips, watching her tongue wet them and groaning softly, unable to control his reaction.
"Why are you so interested in my letter, Blaise?" Hermione studied him in much the same way she used to analyze her Arithmancy problems, trying to figure out what was going on between them. Her eyes widened slightly as she suddenly looked at the letter, the pieces of the puzzle finally going together. She knew the handwriting had looked familiar, but she’d been so caught up in the words that she hadn’t given it much thought. Looking back at him, she realized that her suspicions were true. Blaise had written her the love letter. The past months of flirting had not been merely his friendly way of playing. He’d been sincere. Merlin, Blaise Zabini wanted to do all those naughty things to her. Her face flushing even more as she found it suddenly difficult to breathe.
"Damn it, Hermione. What did it say?" he groaned as he saw the look of desire in her eyes as she stared at him, the realization and sudden awareness as their eyes met.
"It said," she whispered, "that I was the most beautiful woman, sexy and smart and arousing. It said that I was the object of fantasies and that…that."
"He had dreamed about tasting you and touching you and loving for what seemed like forever," he finished huskily, his hand reaching across the desk to caress her cheek. "I have a confession to make, Hermione."
"You do?"
He smiled sheepishly, drawing his lower lip into his mouth as his hair fell across his forehead, feeling a bit foolish for playing games when it was obvious she knew he had written the letter and, judging from her desire laden eyes, she was pleased with the discovery. His lips curved into a wicked smirk as he replied seriously, "Minerva has an unhealthy interest in our fantasy lives."
"What?" Hermione asked in confusion right before his lips caught hers. She moaned as his hand moved into her hair, pulling her across the desk so he could deepen the kiss. Her mouth opened beneath his, her tongue teasing his, standing from her chair and moving to sit on the desk so she could reach him easier. She heard the sound of her stuff falling to the floor as he knocked everything off her desk, moving to sit beside her as he slowly made love to her mouth. His hand moved along her back, drawing her closer to him until she was practically sitting in his lap on her desk. She could feel his hardness pressing against her leg, a confidence spreading over her at this obvious proof of his attraction to her.
Blaise groaned as she shifted and moved into his lap, straddling him with a knee on either side of her desk, her tongue moving against his as she rubbed against his erection. He moved his hand beneath her shirt, his fingers stroking her bare tummy before enveloping her breast. Her nipples were hard, pressing against his palm as he squeezed the flesh, her skirt around her thighs as she moved against him. Blaise cursed the clothing between them, knowing this was moving too fast but believing that eight months of flirtation and desire had been enough foreplay, knowing without a doubt that he loved her.
He didn’t need to date her to acknowledge what he had known since she had hit with him a snowball during the Winter holidays. He’d looked up, ready to glare at whatever student had dared do such a thing, and he’d seen her smiling at him with snow in her hair and her cheeks flushed and he’d felt as if someone had hit him in the stomach. He’d been attracted to her prior to this, finding her mind brilliant and her looks beautiful, but it was that moment as she’d grinned at him with snow in her hair seeming to dare him to try to get her with a snowball that he’d realized it was becoming love.
And now, four months later, he was snogging her in the middle of her desk. Blaise felt her hand caress him through his trousers, his hand tightening around her breast as he arched toward her palm, his other hand moving from her hair to drift down her back until he was cupping her arse. He heard his zipper being lowered then he felt her warm hand caress his shaft, wondering if this was just another dream because it was too unbelievable to really be happening. She whimpered as he nibbled on her lip, the wet crotch of her knickers moving against his cock as she stroked him. She was soaking wet, her juices rubbing against him, causing his erection to throb in her hand. With a low growl, he ripped her panties from her, catching her gasp of surprise with his mouth as his hand held his erection and he impaled her on it.
He was so thick that Hermione felt muscles stretching that had never stretched before, her body adjusting to his size as he continued to kiss her. They barely let go of each other’s lips, just long enough to take several gasps of breath before kissing again. Once she felt comfortable, she hesitantly moved, raising and then lowering herself onto his cock. Merlin, it felt so good. She began to move up and down, feeling absolutely wicked for shagging Blaise on her desk and loving that feeling. Had there been any doubts in her mind about her feelings for him, she certainly would never have done something like this. Since she knew she cared about him, could very well love him, she had no uncertainty or anxiety about doing something she had often dreamed about. How many nights had she laid awake in bed touching herself with images of this very thing, the two of them fucking on her desk, his hands all over her body.
Hermione might not have been a typical girly girl like most of her friends, but she had a very healthy fantasy life. She had only been involved with one man, a summer fling with Oliver Wood a few years ago, and he had never made her feel like this, so wild and uninhibited and needy. She was consumed with lust and affection for the raven-haired wizard beneath her, not believing she had made the first move by unzipping his pants, feeling brazen and as sexy as he wrote about in that naughty letter. She felt his finger move against her clit, pulling her mouth from his and crying out his name as she came, her head falling back as she continued to ride him, wanting him to come.
Blaise felt her muscles tighten around him, pulling her against him as her body convulsed around him. Merlin, she was so beautiful when she came. His lips moved over her neck as he arched into her velvety warmth, needing to get deeper. The tall wizard stood up abruptly, his hands moving behind her bottom as he pushed her against the wall, penetrating her deeply. She was so bloody tight, panting and moaning as he fucked her, her legs wrapping around his waist as his pants fell to his knees. Her skirt was around her waist, her blouse pushed above her breasts and her bra unfastened, her gorgeous breasts bared to his hungry gaze. Blaise lowered his head, sucking her nipple into his mouth as he moved inside her.
Her fingers were in his hair, her body moving against him, their bodies sweaty from their activities. She pulled on his hair, lifting his face and kissing him passionately as she ground her clit against his shaft, her muscles squeezing him. He felt the tension build as his strokes became deeper and faster. With a low groan, he came, his seed spilling into her as she exploded around him once again. He stayed inside her as they continued to kiss, reluctantly releasing her mouth and sliding out of her. She leaned against the wall and just looked at him, her lisp curved into a sated and wicked smile and her eyes gleaming with desire and love.
"I don’t think I’m ever going to look at that desk the same way again," Hermione muttered softly, feeling a bit nervous, not accustomed to having wild shags in the middle of her office with a man like Blaise Zabini.
"Are you okay?" he asked gently, fastening his pants and looking into her eyes, his lips curving into an affectionate smile as she nodded.
"A bit sore," she admitted, the shyness leaving when she saw the look in his eyes. Feeling more confident and flirty, the brunette witch gave him a lecherous look, "You’re very well endowed, Blaise."
"Ah, I see," he sighed dramatically, leaning against her and whispering against her lips, "you’re only interested in me for my body."
"Of course," she smirked, her tongue moving over his lips before she decided, "though I suppose you’re reasonably intelligent and you have a wicked way with words."
"You liked that letter, did you?" he smiled before nibbling on her bottom lip, his hand moving over her breasts before he pulled her skirt back down, "Hermione, I’ve wanted you for so long. This isn’t just a shag, is it?"
"It better not be," she said crossly, arching a brow as she informed him, "you’re mine, Blaise Zabini, so you’d better get used to having me around. I’m never letting you go."
"Merlin, I love it when you get bossy," he purred, his eyes flashing with pleasure at her possessive words.
"Why don’t we finish this conversation in my room?" Hermione suggested with a lusty smile, grateful that the moment of awkwardness had quickly passed and that she felt perfectly comfortable to be teasing Blaise after the wildest shag of her life. So far.
"Why, Miss Granger, what kind of man do you think I am?" he asked with a devilish grin, "Because I’m probably much worse."
"It’s always the quiet ones," she said gravely, a wanton smile crossing her face. "I did read the most deliciously naughty thoughts about what you wanted to do to me and have me do to you. A few of them just don’t seem possible. I do believe that it going to require vast amounts of experimentation and research before I can conclude that your letter was entirely truthful."
"Really?" he drawled lazily, "Are you calling me a liar, Hermione?"
"Never. I am merely suggesting that your fantasies require my full attention so that I can confirm they are, indeed, as pleasurable as they sound," she said innocently, sounding as if she were reciting a Transfiguration lesson instead of something so erotic. "I also believe that my fantasies are going to require the same attention to detail and research. All for the benefit of learning, of course."
"Knowledge is power," he said solemnly, his fingers tracing her cheek as he declared, "I suppose I shall assist you in your research, love. I have always been a most studious man."
"Blaise, to be serious for just a moment," she looked into his eyes and smiled, "I think I love you. I know it’s too soon and that we just now shagged and haven’t even been on a date. Merlin, I’m a hussy! I didn’t even get dinner or a movie before ravishing you."
"You love me?" he repeated softly, "Hermione, I’ve loved you since you hit me that snowball. I’ll buy you dinner for the rest of your life, especially if you keep shagging me like that."
"Blaise!" Hermione laughed, her eyes gentle as she asked, "Since the holidays? What took you so bloody long? I‘ve been waiting since that day in the library when you needed the book of Exotic Potions. You do realize that means I loved you first."
"Clever little witch," he muttered affectionately, "always have to be first, don’t you?"
"No, I just happen to be that good," she smiled smugly, her eyes widening when he suddenly moved her over his shoulder. "Damn it, Zabini! Put me down."
"I believe a certain teasing wench mentioned something about research and experiments," he teased as he grabbed the letter off the floor and then quickly did a spell to clean the desk and put everything back in its place, oblivious to Hermione’s squirming body on his shoulder. He looked back at her and winked, "Thank Merlin it‘s the weekend and that means I don‘t have to let you out of my bed for two entire days. You see, I plan to shag you until you’re too exhausted to move, Miss. Granger."
"Promise?" she smiled as his eyes darkened as he swatted her arse before they left their office and headed to his room. Neither noticed Minerva stop in the hallway and smile at seeing their obvious admission of feelings and the fact that they both looked thoroughly shagged. The Transfiguration professor smiled smugly as she turned around to head back downstairs. She had to find Severus and Albus and let them know that she had won the bet, eager to gloat about choosing the day that Blaise and Hermione finally got together.
Neither man would have to know of her interference and suggestions to Zabini, of course, since she knew the dark Slytherin would not wish to recall that rather embarrassing conversation. Besides, the poor boy had been trying to woo Hermione for months. He had needed some motherly advice and she considered Hermione a bit like a daughter, the girl her favorite student longer than she cared to admit.
It was really Severus and Albus’ own fault, after all. Making a wager about those two adorable children and playing with their love lives. As if those two old fools knew anything about love in the first place. And, most importantly, they should never have wagered against a Gryffindor Witch. She smiled as she hurried down the stairs. She’d heard that Hawaii was lovely during June, and she knew it would be even more so when she didn’t have to pay for any of the trip. She’d buy Severus one of those horrid shirts with the bright colors that the Muggles wore and Albus some silly hat, a reminder of their loss. And they said that Slytherins were the sneaky ones. Ha! Fat lot they knew, she thought smugly.
*the end *