Quite the Distraction

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Originally Posted: July 9, 2004

She didn't this distraction! There was a very important Potions quiz the following morning so Hermione had gone to the library to study. She was confident that she knew the material that would be covered, not even Snape's dislike of Gryffindors preventing her from scoring at the top of his class, but she liked to study, to give herself the extra reassurance that she did, in fact, know every possible item that might be on the quiz. Ron and Harry said she studied too much, a claim that she did not dispute because it was true. It was seventh year and she had spent at least seventy percent of her years at Hogwarts in the library. In fact, she had her own table and chair that no one else ever occupied because the entire school knew that it was where you would find Hermione Granger after classes ended for the day and a majority of the time following dinner. Of course, she didn't just study in the library. She just found it relaxing, being amongst the books, their scent comforting and calming. During the War against Voldemort, which had thankfully ended with the Final Battle just prior to their final year at Hogwarts, she had sought solace in the library, the place normally empty and the few students that did linger within its walls chose to sit at the tables in the front, not in the back corner where Hermione had staked her claim during her first year at Hogwarts. All but one.

The brunette witch was currently looking at the one student that dared to trespass on her territory. Blaise Zabini. Seventh year Slytherin. Among the top students at Hogwarts. A wizard that shared the majority of classes in her tough curriculum this year. Someone whom she had honestly never paid much attention to until the previous term when they had worked in a group for a project in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Until that project, she hadn't even known his name. He had always been the quiet Slytherin, not part of Malfoy's malicious group of prats, keeping to himself and blending into the background. The fact that he had been able to disappear like that was rather amazing to Hermione because Blaise Zabini was not someone people would normally ignore. She had heard after the Final Battle that his sister was married to a Muggle and that had been the reason for his solitary time at Hogwarts, not wanting to draw attention from his housemates, most of whom had parents that were followers of Voldemort or even followed the Dark Lord themselves.

Blaise had done a marvelous job of being ignored, of simply fading into the scenery and never drawing attention to himself. When they had worked on their project, she had been surprised at his intellect, his observant nature, his wit, and, yes she was honest enough to admit it, his looks. Blaise Zabini was one of the most attractive men she'd ever seen. He was unlike most the boys at Hogwarts, possessing a maturity and personality that made him seem wise beyond his years. Since Voldemort's death, he had finally started to be himself, no longer caring about remaining unnoticed by his housemates.

He had proven himself to be a charming flirt, amusement often in his beautiful indigo eyes as he observed those around him, he was blunt but compassionate, helpful to those that needed assistance in their subjects, content to be on the outside of most things watching instead of participating. He was also a natural leader, that proved when he had managed to rally his fellow housemates that opposed Voldemort to stand up for what they believed and join Dumbledore in the final battle. The extra help had assured them victory, and Hermione knew that Blaise was responsible for inspiring the Slytherins. His quiet nature was non-threatening so the wizards respected him and his good looks definitely help sway the witches, and she had to admit that he was rather remarkable.

He was also quite a distraction. She was supposed to be working on her review for Potions but her attention was entirely focused on Blaise. He had a favorite chair just beyond her table where he had spent many an evening this term curled up with a book or his assignments. He was taller than her, the top of her head even with his nose, and his body was what might be described as lanky. Slender and lithe with just a hint of muscles beneath his sweaters, he had long legs that looked rather good when clad in Muggle denim. And she wouldn't even think about what a nice arse he had because, really, such a topic would just cause her attention to wander in a direction that was not good when he was sitting so close. He moved with an elegance and grace that spoke of generations past, hinting at the aristocracy she imagined when she read books by Jane Austin, Blaise all too easily fitting into her mind's image of those regal and handsome men of wealth and prestige.

He was not arrogant, though he had good reason to be, and he did not bring attention to his family's name, his Pureblood history which spanned several centuries, or his wealth and position in society. He was merely just another student, albeit a gorgeous and smart one. Her brown eyes moved up the long legs that were sprawled in front of him as he read, thanking Merlin for his fondness in Muggle blue jeans, focusing on his hands. He had nice hands, strong and capable, long slim fingers, his only jewelry a ring bearing his family's crest in a breathtaking emerald and ruby setting. She knew his hands were smooth and gentle, having felt them on her arm not long ago when he'd steadied her as she'd tripped when the stairs had shifted. She had not been able to stop thinking about feeling those hands all over her body since that incident. Her gaze wandered from his hands across the length of his arms past the column of his neck, straying across the golden skin that he had inherited from his ancestors, lingering on his lips.

He had lovely lips. The upper lip was slightly thin, the bottom lip full. She often wondered what they would taste like, wanting to nibble on his lower lip in the way that he did when he was concentrating on something. He had a great smile, wide and bright, it brought his entire face to life, causing him to look even more handsome, which was really unfair. He had a nice nose, very distinctive. Her eyes moved from his nose to his hair, that beautiful and tempting hair. It was thick and soft, falling to the back of his neck with a slight curl, long and constantly falling across his forehead or being tucked behind his ear, coal black and providing a perfect compliment to his coloring. When she had traveled to Greece and Italy over the summer with her parents, she had seen paintings that reminded her of Blaise, Gods and warriors that looked too beautiful to be real. She knew his Father's lineage was Italian, Blaise inheriting several dominant traits from his ancestors.

His eyes, she didn't dare look into his eyes. They were the most unusual shade. Truly indigo, or violet, a fascinating shade of deep purple that she had seen darken to nearly black during the Final Battle when he had expertly been flinging curses at the Deatheaters. She could happily just stare at their unusual color for hours, loving the expressiveness in them when he was passionate about something, enjoying the amusement in them as he watched their classmates, admiring the determination and intelligence she saw when they were in class or discussing their subjects, amused by the gleam of mischief that would often be present when he was being particularly charming or flirting. Yes, Blaise Zabini was definitely a distraction. Had been for over a year and, if anything, it was just becoming worse. She could not escape him. He was in her classes, he was good friends with Ron and Harry, and he even came to the library to study at the same time she did. How was she supposed to get over this silly crush if she could never escape his presence? It was all his fault, really. No one had the right to be that smart and beautiful, the word strange to use when describing a man but fitting for Blaise who reminded her of the heroes from romantic novels and upper class nobility of a forgotten time, in both looks and manners.

Thinking about that brought her mind to her other problem with Blaise. Ron and Harry. It was becoming embarrassing, her infatuation with Blaise Zabini. Harry, of all people, had noticed her looking at Blaise during Potions at the beginning of the year and had laughed with delight, thinking he was brilliant for catching her secret look, wasting no time in telling Ron that their Hermione was growing up and was smitten with Zabini. She had denied it, of course, not at all pleased at being thought of as one of the silly girls that fluttered around the boys in their school and flirted and acted ridiculous. They had not believed her, the fact that her face had turned the color of Ron's hair at being confronted on her feelings for Blaise and that she could not look either of her best friend's in the eyes as she had made her offended denials seemed to have given them the proof they needed to confirm their suspicion.

Since then, they did not find a day complete until they had mentioned 'her boy' at least a half dozen times and caused her to blush and glare at them for their affectionate teasing and urging for her to be the Hermione they knew and loved by going to Blaise and telling him how she felt and then giving him the snog of his life. Luckily, though they delighted in teasing her, they did not do so around anyone else, enjoying her discomfort at being compared to the other silly girls who flirted with Blaise and had only noticed him recently instead of appreciating his intelligence and wry observations when he was determined to fade into the background. She really didn't need the distraction of Blaise tonight, she thought crossly, her eyes narrowing as she watched him continue to suck on the Muggle candy cane, a box having recently arrived, a gift from his sister. She thought he was attractive on a bad day, but sitting in the chair with a book open and his black hair tousled in a sexy manner with his tongue licking the candy and dragging it across those lovely lips, well, it was surprising that she had not yet melted.

Instead of looking at her Potions text, Hermione watched Blaise eat his candy cane, believing it might have been the most erotic experience of her life so far. True, she had led a rather boring life when it came to romance, her brief relationship with Ron lasting all of one day, intended to prove to him that his infatuation with her was silly and that they were destined to be best friends and nothing more, and her date with Viktor the only other romantic experience she'd had, and that had not been particularly memorable except for the new friend she had found in Viktor. Hermione whimpered slightly when Blaise ran his tongue over the candy cane before flicking his tongue against the end, her vivid imagination all too easily imagining his tongue performing the same action of various parts of her body. Her face was somewhat flushed and her brown eyes were gleaming with lust as she watched him, her hand brushing her caramel colored curls off her neck as the room continued to grow increasingly warm despite the cold December evening outside.

"Hungry, Hermione?"

God, even his voice was sexy. Rich and smooth, rolling across her body and causing things to tingle that ought not be tingling from just hearing his low sexy voice. Suddenly, her eyes widened and Hermione looked up from candy cane to find him looking directly at her, his lips curved into a slight smirk that seemed almost smug, his indigo eyes darker than normal as he casually ran his tongue over his lips, she assumed removing the sticky candy, wondering if he had any idea what that simply action did to her, did to her body. Merlin, she needed to get out of here. Maybe she'd take a walk, outside, just fall into the snow until the heat had left her body. Looking into his eyes, she stammered, "Wh-what?"

"I asked if you were hungry, Hermione," Blaise drawled lazily, the sound a husky whisper in the quiet library. He held up the candy cane and smiled, "You've been staring at my candy so I thought you must be hungry. I have an extra, if you'd like."

"Oh, um, well, that's really nice but I'm okay," Hermione stuttered, her face flushing as she realized he must have known she'd been watching him and wishing that she ground would just open up and swallow her.

"Now, Hermione, I can tell you're hungry. I can see it in your eyes, you know? The hunger, the need, the yearning," Blaise's voice was seductive as he stood up gracefully, the smirk fading from his lips as his eyes looked directly into hers. He moved beside her, resting one hand on the back of her chair and the other flat on the table, letting go of the candy as he leaned down so their faces were almost touching. He whispered, "You see, I know that look, Hermione. It's the same look that I get every time I'm around you. Wanting, needing, longing, aching."

"Blaise," Hermione didn't have time to say anything else before his lips caught hers in a gentle kiss that soon grew more passionate, his tongue moving along her lips before seeking admittance into her mouth. She whimpered as she opened her lips to him, her tongue shyly touching his as her hand moved behind his head, tangling in his hair. When they finally broke the kiss, she looked into his eyes as a soft smile crossed her face, "Wow."

"I do believe that is an understatement," Blaise grinned, his fingers tracing the line of her cheek as he said, "I've been wanting to do that for a very long time."

"I'm glad you did," Hermione confessed, loving the look of desire and affection in his eyes as he looked at her.

"It's just the first of many, Hermione," he promised her before he leaned down and kissed her again, the brunette witch deciding that she was prepared enough for Potions as she forgot about studying and concentrated on the warmth of Blaise's lips against hers, finding it a very pleasant distraction, indeed.

*the end*