Sometimes Chapter Seven
Hermione could remember the first time she had considered a relationship with Blaise. It was after a very difficult day of strategy planning and the like (such as keeping Draco and Ron from killing each other in front of their wife and sister respectively) when she had retired to the local pub for a small relaxing drink before apperating home to her lonely apartment to hopefully sleep.
She had been seated at a small table in a reclusive area of the pub when he had walked in. It had been raining and he, like the idiot he sometimes was, forgot to use an umbrella or at least a spell to protect him from the rain. His hair was soaked, actually straight except for the edges where it still curled. She had followed his movements to the bar, finding him familiar but not exactly sure why.
He had apparently found her staring amusing and after gathering his own drink of choice (She remembered it being bright Green but could never remember the title of it) he walked over to where she was.
“The famous Ms. Granger, I would never have expected to see you here,” he stated. It was his voice that made her remember him. His voice was unforgettable as far as she was concerned. She could remember how his voice had sent chills down her spine in the nice way, how his eyes used to memorize her. Brilliant and a fiery blue that made you think of blue amethysts if you were poetic which she wasn’t but they enthralled her all the same.
Yes, she was one of the many girls to have a crush on one Mr. Blaise Zabini, Head Boy.
Granted she had a lot of time to work with him since she was Head Girl and it was nonsense to crush on a co-worker so she had said nothing about it. But she wasn’t in school anymore and at last look; Blaise was a free-lance artist who drew some of the most magnificent paintings the Wizarding world had ever seen. She was sure that they would be in high demand once the war was over and people had time to look at art.
“What have you been up to, Blaise?” She asked him, motioning him to sit in the chair opposite.
“Oh, you know, the same old stuff. Of course, if you mean right now, I’m staring at your legs.” She raised an eyebrow. Blaise liked to throw in comments that had nothing to do with the conversation and often would make the other person pause in confusion.
“You like what you see?” Please God; tell her she didn’t just say that.
“Yes, actually very much.” He winked at her.
She had been seated at a small table in a reclusive area of the pub when he had walked in. It had been raining and he, like the idiot he sometimes was, forgot to use an umbrella or at least a spell to protect him from the rain. His hair was soaked, actually straight except for the edges where it still curled. She had followed his movements to the bar, finding him familiar but not exactly sure why.
He had apparently found her staring amusing and after gathering his own drink of choice (She remembered it being bright Green but could never remember the title of it) he walked over to where she was.
“The famous Ms. Granger, I would never have expected to see you here,” he stated. It was his voice that made her remember him. His voice was unforgettable as far as she was concerned. She could remember how his voice had sent chills down her spine in the nice way, how his eyes used to memorize her. Brilliant and a fiery blue that made you think of blue amethysts if you were poetic which she wasn’t but they enthralled her all the same.
Yes, she was one of the many girls to have a crush on one Mr. Blaise Zabini, Head Boy.
Granted she had a lot of time to work with him since she was Head Girl and it was nonsense to crush on a co-worker so she had said nothing about it. But she wasn’t in school anymore and at last look; Blaise was a free-lance artist who drew some of the most magnificent paintings the Wizarding world had ever seen. She was sure that they would be in high demand once the war was over and people had time to look at art.
“What have you been up to, Blaise?” She asked him, motioning him to sit in the chair opposite.
“Oh, you know, the same old stuff. Of course, if you mean right now, I’m staring at your legs.” She raised an eyebrow. Blaise liked to throw in comments that had nothing to do with the conversation and often would make the other person pause in confusion.
“You like what you see?” Please God; tell her she didn’t just say that.
“Yes, actually very much.” He winked at her.