Razorblade Romance

Hermione found herself roaming around the deserted streets of Naples, her hands clenched furiously. How dare he! She had just tried to help him, and he had sent her away! The nerve of the little Slytherin prick...

To her horror, she felt tears welling up in her eyes. She brushed them away angrily, swallowing the lump in her throat. She would not cry...

She passed a group of men--the only people outside during the night. "You'll notice that we're kind of in the slums--this entire city is controlled by the Mafia. Lots of crime and poverty here," Blaise's voice rang in her head. A little coil of fear tightened in her stomach, but she held her head up high and continued walking on. She heard them murmuring in Italian, but she didn't know the language.

All of a sudden, a hand slipped out and grasped her wrist. Hermione whipped around, her hand in her pocket, trying to find her wand--

The man murmured something, his white teeth flashing in the darkness as he grinned. Hermione shrieked and jumped back, but his grip was firm. He tugged her towards the group of friends. Hermione fell limp, the little coil growing to an enormous snake.

"Puttana," another man said, chuckling. The other men laughed. Hermione was still paralysed with fear, her mind frozen.

The man who had grabbed her earlier was still supporting her weight. He lifted a finger and let it drift along her cheek. She shivered, flinching. He and his friends laughed. There were five of them, all dark-haired and grinning.

The man who was holding her was speaking rapidly. It sounded as though he was asking a simple question, such as "Do you not speak Italian?" so Hermione nodded.

"Baldracca!" the shortest man spat.

"Stop," Hermione whispered, fingers fumbling for her wand. She could Stun them, couldn't she? They're Muggles! But she was a full-grown witch now; she could use magic in front of Muggles! All she needed was a Memory Charm! Can you even perform those? Well, maybe not... "Please, stop..."

"Porca troia," the short man hissed. Hermione felt the tears in her eyes again, her hands shaking. Take out your wand, Granger! Curse them! What the hell is wrong with you?

"Chi il hell è voi tutti?" a man hollered in the distance. Hermione's ears perked up, and she nearly wept with relief. Blaise!

"Messo lui dalla mia vista" the man holding her ordered.

Blaise strode forward, snapping, "Mai!"

"Figlio di puttana," a man that hadn't spoken before replied.

"Per il vostro trucco seguente, perchè non provato a tenere il vostro alito per circa sei minuti?" Blaise retorted.

Hermione's mind spun at the foreign language that was rolling off Blaise's tongue. Her ears began to buzz, blocking out any other sounds. She dimly saw Blaise poking the man's chest, spitting out words in Italian. She took out her wand, finally held firmly in her hand, and jabbed it sharply into the man's stomach. He bent at the waist at the sudden prod, and he released her. Hermione nearly fell to the ground at the loss of support, grabbing the attention of the other men.

One of them--a pot-bellied, moustached man--laughed. Blaise glowered, and the man stopped snickering.

"Leave," he commanded, pointing down the street. "Now."

They hesitated. One of the men shook his head and mumbled, "Non vale oggetto di cazzo." He gestured to his friends, jerking his head in the opposite directions.

The men left Hermione and Blaise, looking back at the two as they made their way up the street. When they were out of sight, Blaise looked at Hermione and sighed.

"Usually, the locals are kind, with strong family values and all that. You happened to meet the wrong people at the wrong time. Are you all right?"

"F-Fine," Hermione stammered. She tucked her wand back into her pocket. "Umm...Thanks."

"I'm sorry," Blaise muttered. He had dropped his gaze from her eyes, and seemed exceedingly interested in the laces of his trainers. "I shouldn't have gotten angry at you earlier tonight."

Hermione shrugged. "It happens."

"Let's just get back to the house." Blaise offered his arm to her. Smiling, Hermione linked her own through his. "Now, let's go have some cocoa and an intelligent conversation by the fire."

* * *

When they got back to the house, Blaise did as he promised--five minutes later, Hermione was curled up in an armchair with a mug of cocoa, watching Blaise sending a charm into the fireplace. As soon as a fire was burning cheerfully, Blaise plopped into the chair opposite her.

"I'm sorry," Blaise repeated. "I-I have been a little stressed out since you started working, and I know that it was stupid of me--"

"Damn right it was!" Hermione began, beginning to stand up.

"Let me finish!" said Blaise sharply. Hermione shrunk back into her armchair. "That's better." He sighed, rubbing the space between his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. "Listen...I haven't done anything since we all left Hogwarts, and when Uncle Armanno died--it was just awful. He was my favourite uncle, and I had to read through his will, come here and clean out all of his stuff--and his ex-wife is claims that Armanno left her a sizeable amount of money. It's all a load of crap, obviously, but she keeps insisting that we discuss it through the fire--"

"That's what you've been doing!"

Blaise nodded, drinking in a gulp of cocoa. "When I'm not annoying you in the attic, yes, I'm arguing with her through the Floo Network. Merlin, this woman is just a gold-digger. She's half my uncle's age, got breasts the size of melons" --he demonstrated with his hands, to Hermione's amusement-- "and enough Magical Surgery done to help an Healer's salary. Don't know why my uncle married her. First class whore," he spat.

"Maybe I should talk to her," Hermione offered. "I'm usually pretty decent at dealing with people."

Blaise smiled faintly and shook his head. "It's okay. I'm fine with it. Just a pain in the arse, is all."

"All right. Just...no more near-drowning baths without my consent, okay?"

The smile widened. "Of course. I'm sorry if I scared you. The bath helps me relax," he explained. Hermione bit her lip. She was sure he had taken the bath because his legs were hurting, but it would be rude to ask why. She kept her mouth shut.

They were silent for a few minutes.

"If your own fireplace is connected to the Floo Network, is it possible to connect that one?" Hermione inquired, gesturing to the fireplace. "I'd like to talk to Bill."

"It is connected," Blaise answered, taking a sip of his own cocoa.

"Why didn't you tell me that in the first place?"

"You didn't ask. Feel free to contact him whenever you like."

Hermione bit back a retort. There has been enough arguing for one night, she mused.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow morning," she said finally. "He'll want to know my progress."

"I would assume so. Is it going well?"

"I suppose so."

Blaise seemed to be hesitating. Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Why didn't you take out your wand and curse them?" Blaise asked. "I mean, you're a witch, aren't you? You can use your wand to defend yourself against Muggles. I have a cousin in the Italian Ministry, I'm sure he could pull some strings if it didn't work out."

Hermione watched the fire. "I--I don't really know why I didn't. I'm Muggle-born, and it's taken me awhile to get used to the fact that I can do magic. And...I freeze up in situations like that. I'm quick to defend my friends and family, but when it comes to myself...I get scared, I guess."

"Oh." A pause. "I'm sure you'll get over it quickly, Hermione."

"I hope so." She sipped her cocoa, blinking as her eyelids began to droop. "I think I've had enough for one night. I'm off to bed."

"Night," Blaise said quietly as Hermione got up. As she walked past his armchair, she felt an overwhelming urge to give him a hug. A hug? A hug? Hormones are odd things, Hermione...

She must have stood there for a minute as she thought, for Blaise raised an eyebrow at her in silent question. Throwing away the shyness, Hermione bent down and wrapped her arms around his neck. Blaise returned the embrace with one arm, his breath hot against her ear.

"Thanks," Blaise whispered, his arm tight on Hermione's back. He released her, giving a slight push. "Now go to bed."