Got To Be Kidding

Detention with Snape. How very much Blaise looked forward to it. Blurgh. She rubbed absently at a bruise on her left knee that she had received earlier that day; damn the flagstones of the Great Hall that stuck out at odd angles, causing people to trip and embarrass themselves in front of whole rooms of people. Double blurgh.

She trudged to Dungeon 2 where he had told her to be at eight o'clock that evening. When she entered the room, he barely glanced up, saying, "Good evening, Miss Zabini. Please take a seat over here while I finish with this potion and explain to you your task."

She nodded once and did as he commanded, glancing over at the nearly translucent liquid simmering in the cauldron before him.

"This is a simple Purifying Solution," he informed, ladling up some of the potion, then letting it splash back down into the cauldron. "I have brewed it for the purpose of cleaning the bezoars that I recently obtained. Your job is to take an individual bezoar, soak it for thirty seconds in the solution, pull it back out, rub it off, then put it back into the solution for another thirty seconds. When you finish with that, kindly place them on the shelf in that cupboard, arranging them by size. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. How many bezoars are there?" she asked timidly, afraid of the answer.

"One hundred and fifty."

She groaned inwardly.

He smirked slightly at her expression, then reached down, and pulled a large box off the floor and onto the table. He then handed her some gloves to wear. She put them on, standing on her toes to get a better look at the bezoars, then cringed and backed away. They smelled horrible. She noticed Snape was talking to her again.

"... so I will not be able to stay here and monitor your progress. I've asked a prefect to stay here with you and Mr. Malfoy will inform me if there are any problems." He glanced over at a corner of the dungeon.

She realized suddenly that Malfoy had been sitting there this whole time, watching the exchange. When he saw the startled expression on her face, he too smirked. He got up and made his way over to her table, managing to come very close to her in the process.

"Professor, what happens if the solution should come into contact with skin?" she asked quickly as Snape started heading out of the door. Malfoy jumped back immediately, catching the veiled threat, and Snape gave her a wary look. "In case I should spill some?" she finished innocently.

"It can scald the flesh, Miss Zabini," replied Snape, "so I would beg that you be careful and not have any... accidents." He even gave Malfoy a warning glance.

"Oh, thank you sir."

"Do you have everything under control, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. Carry on," and Snape swept from the dungeons.

She heaved a large sigh, then got to work, not deigning Malfoy a glance. He pulled up a stool very close to her, sat, and proceeded to watch every one of her movements very carefully.

She proceeded to ignore him thoroughly, making sure not to mess up the simple yet tedious task she had to complete. But Malfoy made it very clear he had no intention to lose. He started shifting around in his seat, appearing to try to get a better look.

She found that her breathing was coming harder as he kept moving, stealthily getting closer, doing a very good job of pissing her off.

It was when she wiping off the thirtieth or so stone that Malfoy reached over, pointed a finger, and said, "You missed a spot."

She cracked. "You know what, Malfoy? You're an ass."

He had won. "Now we're getting somewhere," he said triumphantly.

"Don't make me accidentally spill this potion," she threatened, not looking up at him.

"What is it with you and all the threats?" he asked, leaning further in until his mouth was an inch from her ear. "Relax," he said softly, his warm breath on her neck.

The bezoar she was holding plopped into the potion unceremoniously, causing the potion to splash out of the cauldron a little. It had been unintentional, but it had the desired effect. Draco nearly fell off the stool in his haste to get way.

She snorted in amusement, then bent her head over her work to avoid the death look she received. Draco began grumbling under his breath and pulled the stool to the other end of the table, where he sat down again, continuing to grumble.

Nothing more was said for a while, and she tried to erase the feeling of his breath on her neck. Tried not to imagine how it might feel for his lips to caress her skin there, or what it would be like for him to kiss-

"How's your knee?"

She nearly dropped her second bezoar, but caught it just in time. "What?" she asked, trying to push some hair out of her face with her arm.

"How is your knee?" he repeated slowly, enunciating every word. "You know, that part of your body that is now bruised and bloody due to your utter lack of grace."

Ugh, one point scored for Malfoy.

"Same as three hours ago. Things don't heal immediately, you know."

"Things can be healed immediately- welcome to the wizarding world," Draco pointed out, rather meanly, in Blaise's opinion. She hadn't had time to go to Madame Pomfrey yet, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. It was just a bruise, and anything having to do with medicine, mediwizards and the like scared her to death.

Damn him. Some strands of hair fell back in her face again and she muttered a few choice words under her breath as she attempted to push them out of her face with her arm once more; she was afraid to touch her head with her hands as she had some of the Purifying Solution on them and didn't fancy getting burned. Though, she was already being roasted by Draco, so why it mattered...

"Well, my platinum-headed prat, since you so delight in bringing back up humiliating memories, I can think of one or two that might-"

"Would you like some help?"

She jumped nearly three feet, and her bezoar fell just that far into the potion. She hadn't realized that Draco had been walking over to her until he was right by her side, so busy was she with her hair and coming up with her "platinum-headed prat" insult (ha! Point for her!). He grabbed her around the waist and pulled them both away as the bezoar went tumbling into the solution, splashing a fair amount of it on the table top.

Trying to regain her breath, she looked up at him. "What?"

"I asked you if you wanted some help," he replied, glancing over the mess, then down at her.

"I'm supposed to clean the bezoars myself-"

"I meant with your hair. You kept fiddling with it, trying to get it out of your face."

"Oh." She groaned, looking at her gloved hands. "I didn't think to pull my hair back before I started working. I have a ponytail holder in my bag, I guess I could just take the gloves off and fix my hair-"

"I'll do it." He looked entirely serious.

"You have got to be kidding me."

But he had already headed to her bag and flipped it open. "Where's the hair-holder-thingy?"

"It's a little rude to just start going through a person's things," she said, trying to get the gloves off so she could go over and stop him, but the damn things wouldn't budge.

"If you would tell me where it was I wouldn't have to- a-ha!" He emerged triumphant and headed back over to her.

She stared up at him. "You have got to be kidding me," she repeated.

He shook his head, muttering to himself again, then turned her around. She couldn't believe this was happening. He ran his fingers through her hair a few times, as if combing it, then began pulling it back. She had to admit, she was one of those girls who really enjoyed the feeling of someone touching or pulling on the scalp, and added to the fact that it was him, she felt shivers going up and down her.

"How do you know how to do a ponytail?" she asked. "Are you gay, Malfoy?"

Yes, she thought immediately after it had come out, yes, that was possibly the stupidest thing she could have ever said.

He tugged hard on some of her hair as he continued to pull it back, and she felt him tense up. She regretted her words instantly, feeling herself subconsciously bite her lip. He waited until he had finished to answer (and she was surprised to feel that the ponytail was decently done, though hanging low on her neck, and didn't have many bumps). He didn't turn her back around, but walked further into her so that her back was on his chest; he bent down to speak softly and harshly in her ear.

"I am not gay, Blaise Zabini, as I would have thought was obvious by now. Moreover, your rudeness is completely uncalled for. I know how to pull a girl's hair back because I have two little girl cousins, who often visit the Manor and I have been obliged to baby-sit them several summers in a row. In the future, you will refrain from making comments like that, or you will seriously regret it, afterwards."

Her breath was coming fast and hard, his voice was ice in her ear, and she almost wanted to cry. She knew some guys were sensitive about things like that; she wondered vaguely if he was a homophobe.

All thoughts along this line were suddenly and abruptly put to a halt, however, when she felt his tongue in her ear. She gasped, then brought her elbow back hard into his stomach. He then gasped (out of surprise and lack of air) and she felt him move back around to his stool. When she looked in his face, however, all she saw was high amusement. He was clutching his stomach, but the rest of him was racked with laughter. Sitting lightly on the stool, he watched her, continuing to laugh and with something close to fondness on his face. "Oh, Blaise, you never disappoint."

She was absolutely furious (and confused and bewildered and angry and embarrassed and afraid and humiliated and trying to eradicate the feeling of his tongue and warm breath our of her mind). She couldn't even think of anything to say. She turned back to the bezoars and worked at an accelerated speed to finish. She had to leave that room, get away from Malfoy. He continued to watch her, the laughter slowly dieing, making no comment.

Finally she finished and put away all the bezoars. Without a backward glance, she hurried over to her bag, snatched it up, then sped out of the dungeon. Draco was not far behind.

"Oh, come off it, Blaise," he said, easily able to keep up with her furious walking with his long strides. "You can't tell me you didn't like it."

She wanted to scream, but instead, abruptly turned to face him. "You are such a bastard, Draco."

"Which merely adds to my charm," he replied, seemingly unfazed by the insult. Before she could think up something else to throw at him, Malfoy continued, "Go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend."

Her jaw dropped and she stared at him, speechless. It didn't last. "You have got to be kidding me," became the phrase of the evening, after she repeated it for the third time. "Malfoy, I'm not your type. Oh, hold on a second..." she added in mock concentration, furrowing her brow and placing a hand over her eyes, "Let's see, I'm female, I walk on two legs, and I can form monosyllabic words... dammit! I am your type!"

He responded by pressing his lips to hers. To which there really was no response. Well, not a verbal one at least.