Blaise Zabini and the Lazy Sunday

It was a beautiful, lazy Sunday, and only the most studious of students were in the library. Most were seventh years. All were being heckled by Madam Pince.

It appeared, as Blaise Zabini curiously stopped in front of the library entrance, that some poor soul had gotten on the wrong side of the short tempered librarian.

Zabini, being the courteous Slytherin that he was, decided to step in before Madam Pince scared that First-Year half to death. The poor boy was looking peckish as it was, without any help.

He strolled into the library with the air of somebody that has a purpose. Unfortunately for him, he had none, and Pince could smell it on him a mile away. She swooped in for the kill.

"Boy! What are you doing? Hey! Get away from there!" With a dainty slap of her feather duster, Madam Pince turned his thoughts away from the Restricted Section. Granted, he had never intended to go in there, but it was the thought that counts.

As he continued to peer past the roped off entryway, Pince moved in front of him.

"Is there anything in particular you needed, Boy, or did you just come here to disturb the peace?"

Zabini had half a mind to tell her that she was doing a good enough job of that on her own, but he would lose points for the cheek. Instead, he settled for shaking his head and looking forlorn.

"Have you seen Granger?" Zabini was careful to add a hopeful lilt to his voice. He almost smirked as Pince's face softened at her favorite student's name.

"Why, yes, I have. She just left the library not ten minutes ago."

Zabini allowed himself a sigh of relief. Anything more and he was afraid he would bust a gut trying not to laugh.

"She didn't, by any chance, say where she was going?"

Madam Pince eyed him suspiciously, and, finding nothing but earnest enthusiasm, decided to answer.

"She said she was going to Hagrid's- Wait! Where are you going?"

Zabini had already turned at the first syllable of Hagrid's name. He was out the door by the end of her question.

Within minutes, he was out at Hagrid's hut, and, true to form, there was Granger. He walked up to her.

"Hello, Blaise." Her eyes never glanced up from her book. "Fancy meeting you here." At this, she held up a watch.

Zabini handed her a pumpkin pasty.

"I got held up on the way here. Had to rescue some first years from Madam Pince."

Granger rolled her eyes and smiled.

"You're always being held up."

Zabini grinned. His pearly whites shone brightly in the sunlight. Grabbing her by the hand, he hoisted her up.

"Of course, my dear Hermione! But you love me anyways."

Zabini's hair was swatted, and he welcomed the breeze.

"Don't know why, but yes, I do."

And, in a move that would have been perfect in the cinema's, Granger pushed her lips against his.

The forgotten pasty lay squooshed between their bodies.

Too bad there weren't any cinemas.