Roommates

Fifteen

Blaise and Draco stayed up until midnight, talking and laughing about the current happenings in their lives. Around half past midnight, Blaise showed Draco to the room across the hall from Hermione's. It was all mahogany wood, like Blaise's room, but was all in green and black.

"Look, a room to match your personality," Blaise said dryly, standing in the doorway. "By the way, nice leather pants."

Draco grinned. "I like them. I got them for my birthday this year and just now its gotten cold enough to wear them, according to Mum."

"Who gave them to you?" Blaise asked, leaning in the doorway.

Draco looked around, and walked closer. "There wasn't a tag on them," he whispered, "but they were from-" he looked around again, slightly paranoid, "-Aunt Andromeda, Mum's sister."

Blaise nodded. "The one that's married to the Muggleborn?" Draco nodded. "Ah. It's kind of cool that Dad only has brothers. Brothers aren't that controversial."

"Count yourself lucky," Draco grumbled. "I never see any of my interesting relatives."

"Yeah, but that's the downside. I have no interesting relatives," Blaise said. "Except, of course, my insane sisters, but one can hardly count them in all their insanity."

"Very true," Draco agreed. His composure brightened. "Guess what."

"What?"

"No, you have to guess!"

"I give up."

"Blaise..."

"Draco..."

"Fine. Mum's having a baby!"

"Oh, God, another Malfoy in the world," Blaise moaned. "I don't think I can deal with it right now, Draco. G'night."

"Night."

~*~

The next morning Hermione woke up with her clothes on, and blinked at her striped sweater.

"What?" she said, sleep laced through her voice. "What happened?" She sat up and rubbed her eyes, blinking at the strong sunlight pouring through the windows.

She got out of bed and went to Blaise's room. He was lying in his bed, his eyes wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Thank God you're awake," Blaise said. He looked over at her. "It's so boring to lay in bed for three hours listening to Draco go on and on about his girlfriend." Hermione looked at him puzzled. "Oh, he went back to his room about twenty minutes ago to "find" something." He scoffed. "I doubt it."

The door banged open again, and Draco came in, waving a photo. "I found it," he said, panting a bit. "It's- Oh, hello, Granger." He tucked the photo into a pocket and went to sit down on one of the chairs.

Hermione yawned. "I was just wondering," she said, "how I got into my bed fully clothed last night, when the last thing I remember is being at that table, studying."

"Well, the thing is that I, well, picked you up and carried you into bed," Blaise said quickly.

"Oh." Hermione went to sit down on another chair. "Okay."

Draco, who had retreated to hide behind the chair, peeked up at her. "That's it?" he said.

"What's it?" Hermione asked, making her way to the door.

"We hear about your bottled-up Gryffindor anger and how you blow up when enough gets to you, and that's it?"

Hermione shrugged. "Yeah," she said, grinning. "I'm going to clean up now. See you at breakfast..." The door closed behind her and Blaise came up from under the covers.

"Wow," he said. "I have the perfect girlfriend."

~*~

Blaise and Draco waited until the last minute to get showered and dressed. By the time they were finished, Hermione had been finished for fifteen minutes, but was now sitting at the vanity, putting on some makeup.

"Vanity," Blaise said, leaning in the doorway, Draco beside him, "is a sin, you know."

"I do know," Hermione said, not turning around. "But your families are vultures waiting to swoop down and peck out my liver at the least imperfection. I think I'd rather be vain for four weeks than picked on. Of course, since neither of you get along with my friends, this will never make it back to them."

"Of course," they agreed.

"Now let's go," Blaise said. "I'm starving."

Hermione looked in the mirror one last time before standing up. She was wearing a floor-length three-tiered green velvet skirt, with a long-sleeved silver shirt with green writing that read 'Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.'

"Nice shirt," Blaise commented.

"It was a present for my birthday from Fred and George," she replied, slipping her feet into her shoes. "'If the Head Girl wears it, then we'll get good publicity,' they said. I don't wear it during term, just holidays because of that. But it is one of my favorite shirts, since it's quite comfortable."

"D'you use it as pajamas?" Draco asked, as they walked to the stairs. "I find that shirts that are comfortable that have... objectionable material make wonderful pajama tops."

Blaise coughed at this, and grinned when Hermione glared pointedly. "No, I don't use them as pajamas," Hermione said loudly, to cover up Blaise's, "She certainly doesn't."

Draco eyed Blaise. "How do you know what her-" Realization dawned on him. "Oh, so you two have already-" He was cut off by Blaise pushing him backwards, and he landed on the stairs before he said anything.

"Shut up, Draco," Blaise said, annoyed. "Just... shut it."

Draco rolled his eyes, got up, and followed them down the stairs to breakfast.

~*~

"I can't believe Mrs. Zabini sat me by you," Hermione hissed to Draco.

Draco took a drink of his Turkish coffee. "Honestly, Granger, you don't get the whole dinner party thing, do you?" Hermione glared at him and he went on. "When someone sits you beside someone that you didn't come with and the person you're sitting next to is particularly annoying or offensive it means that they don't like you." He looked at her, a smirk hovering at the edge of his mouth as he took a bite of scrambled egg. "So, tell me, 'Ms. Head Girl' what did you do to Frances Zabini that has made her dislike you?"

"I didn't do anything," she protested. "Nothing."

"Then, what did or didn't you do to one or several of her children and/or loved ones?" Draco asked, flashing a grin-like smirk in June's direction.

"Nothing. Well, I did side with Blaise over Lilithe. And I am sort-of dating Blaise, but how would she know?" Hermione asked.

"In these mansions even the walls talk," Draco muttered. "You learn that quickly."

"How so, oh learned one?" Hermione asked sarcastically.

Draco sneered at her, sipping his coffee again. "Why should I explain to you?" he said. "Perhaps you should ask lover-boy, over there."

"Shut it, Draco." He looked up, surprised. It was June who had spoken. "Leave off before I force you too."

"Little June," he said, smirk replacing the sneer, "you don't know whom you're talking too."

June glared at him. "Don't I?" She turned to Hermione. "C'mon. I want to show you something."

June stood up and came around the table, grabbing Hermione and dragging her behind her as she left the room. Hermione flashed a 'What the heck?' look towards Blaise before she disappeared out of the door.

June tugged her through corridors and out into the garden. Hermione glimpsed the path that lead to the green and gold tent before June pulled her down another, different path. They passed large, fragrant pink roses, surrounded by daffodils.

"Ah," June said. Hermione turned away from the flowers and looked beyond June. "We're here." A blue and tan pavilion, about thirty feet high, that was striped on the sides, but polka dotted on the peaked roof. June walked over to the flap that looked to be the door and flipped it open. She turned, beckoning to Hermione. "Come on in," she said, waving Hermione in.

Hermione walked past June into the pavilion and looked around. It had two floors, and a dark wooden spiral staircase that led to the second floor was to her left, on the far side of the tent. The furniture was all overstuffed armchairs and a sofa or two, with blue and tan upholstery. She went over to an armchair and sat down, pulling her legs underneath her and crossing them.

"So, um," Hermione started nervously, "why did you bring me here?"

June sat down across from her and said, "I wanted to get to know you."

'Why now?' Hermione thought. 'Why would she want to get to know me now, even if I am dating her brother? She didn't really seem interested in getting to know me the other day, in the parlor. Never mind. I'll listen to what she has to say.'

"What do you want to know?" Hermione asked, trying to be cautious.

"Where'd you grow up?" June replied. Hermione got the nagging feeling that this was some sort of interview, and not something that came entirely from June.

"Outside of Worthing." June's expression was puzzled. "It's by the sea. Not far from London, if you take the train, but it's lovely."

"Hmm. I've never heard of it."

"I'm sure you haven't. You've been living in France, right?" June nodded. "Well, then I assume you vacation mostly in Marseilles or in Italy-"

"Why would you think Italy?" June said sharply.

"Because that's where Lilithe lives, and Blaise said-" Hermione was cut off by a House-Elf who informed them that Miss Hermione was wanted by Master Blaise, now, please. "Thank you," she told the House-Elf. "I'll see you later, June. I've really got to go, this is probably about our project- Bye!" Hermione stood up and practically ran out of the tent.

Blaise stood at the end of the path, glaring up at the pavilion. "Well," he said when she reached him. "It's official. June has fallen to Lilithe."

"You make that sound like she's a Death Eater," Hermione replied, as he took her hand and kissed her fingers with a dramatic flourish.

"It's almost as bad," he said, laughing. "Except with Death Eaters, you know what they want. With Lil, it's all smoke and mirrors. Her objectives change, and bloody fast, too. It's buggering annoying."

Hermione rolled her eyes as they went inside. "Why do I like you?" she asked, rhetorically.

"Besides my extraordinary good looks, engaging wit and charms?" Blaise said smoothly. "It's obviously-"

"-the way you make me laugh?" Hermione giggled. "Blaise, my dear, sometimes you're too much."

A smile tugged at his lips. "I know. But don't you love it?"

"Absolutely." She kissed his cheek quickly as they passed the parlor.

"I've got a treat for you," he said, leading her down a small corridor.

"What?"

He grinned. "Close your eyes," Blaise said, putting her hands up by her face as they stood in front of a door. She heard the door open, and tried to peek. "No peeking, Hermione! I saw that!" She laughed. He put his hands on her shoulders, led her into the room and stood behind her. "Okay... open up!"

She opened her eyes and gasped. She was standing in the biggest library she'd ever seen. It was two floors, with a staircase alongside the wall leading to the second floor. The bookshelves reached up to the ceiling on both floors, and signs hung in between the shelves saying what kind of books were in the section.

"But, Blaise," Hermione said, gazing open-mouthed at the thousands--maybe even millions-- of books, "didn't we already go to the library?"

"We actually have two. Well, two in this house. There's a mansion in Italy that has five, I think. But I digress. The library that we were in the other day was the family research library."

"Five libraries?" Hermione said, somewhat reverently.

Blaise's grin grew wider. "Yes. Five."

"Wait. Family research library?" Hermione asked.

"Well, Dad is a professional researcher," Blaise replied. "Occasionally, when he's finished a job, he likes to research the family's history. This library is for his main research, though when it's a tough job he goes to the Italy house. I love that place. Before I went to Hogwarts we lived there for six years, from when I was five to eleven."

"Who in the world hires your dad to research? It must cost a bundle," Hermione said in wonder.

"Well, generally the people who hire me have the funds," said Zachary Zabini, who had been in the upstairs section of books, and was now standing midway down the staircase. "I'd like to tell you who hires me, but that's a violation of contracts and some laws, I believe."

"Mr. Zabini," Hermione said.

"Dad." Blaise nodded at his father.

"So what brings you to my researching library on this fine day?" Zachary asked.

"Escape from June and Lil, not to mention the Malfoys and Mum, and I wanted to make Hermione jealous," Blaise said.

Zachary eyed his son. "Blaise, could you come upstairs with me for a few minutes?" he asked politely.

"Dad, I wish I could, but-" Blaise began.

"Now," Zachary said, turning and walking up the stairs. Blaise flashed Hermione an apologetic look and dashed up the stairs after his father. He found Zachary in the Sumerian aisle in the Nation section and walked over to him. "You and Hermione..."

"Me and Hermione," Blaise agreed.

Zachary fixed him with a look. "No joking, Blaise Michael Hyndir Délas Zabini. You two have been 'dating' for less than two days. I think you need to take it slower." His eyebrows rose and he frowned slightly. "Now, you and Hermione may truly be destined for one another, but you need to be able to trust each other before you do anything... rash."

"What, exactly, do you mean?" Blaise asked, shifting his weight.

"What I mean is that if I hear of anything--anything--that I deem 'rash', I will be writing Dumbledore and transferring you to Beauxbaton or even that school in Italy, if I have to," Zachary warned.

Blaise's mouth dropped open. "What?"

"I mean it. I am completely serious, son. And if you break my trust, I will personally arrange for you to spend the summer with your sister." He cut off Blaise's budding smile by saying, "Not Zel. Lilithe." Blaise's face fell.

"You wouldn't," he breathed.

"Try me," his father replied, folding his arms across his chest.

Blaise sighed. "Fine. I won't do anything improper or 'rash'," he said, sighing. "Now can I go?"

"Yes." Zachary smiled at his son and ruffled the seventeen-year-old's hair.

"Aw, Dad," Blaise whined.

"Go on," he said. "Go spend time with your girlfriend." Blaise went fifteen feet before Zachary called after him, "I'm watching you, remember." Blaise started to object when Zachary laughed and waved him on. "Out. Now. I'm researching something important."

"For who?" Blaise asked.

"Can't tell you. Out. Stay downstairs."

"Fine. See you later." Blaise mock-saluted his dad before walking down the stairs to rejoin Hermione.