Noticing Millicent

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the Harry Potter-verse.

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He was looking again. Millicent could feel him doing it, that strange 'hair on the back of your neck standing on end' feeling, that told you when someone was staring. She didn't even bother turning around anymore, she knew if she did she would only meet his eyes momentarily before he turned away. What was his problem she wondered for the hundredth time?

She clutched her books more tightly and walked on toward class.

People moved out of the way so she could pass, but it wasn't as if they were really noticing her. Not that one could exactly ignore someone like Millicent, her size made it impossible to entirely forget she was there. It was more like she was a fixture than a person, like she was a piece of furniture or a part of the wall. People would move around her but no one made eye contact, no one smiled. It seemed sometimes that the only thing for which Millicent was good, was providing back up when some scheme called for more brawn than brain.

She sighed, and kept walking.

It was too bad that her outward appearance was so at odds with how she felt on the inside. She was broad, not some delicate flower that some dashing boy would try to rescue. No she would probably be required to do any rescuing that was going to get done. She had heard her looks described as hag like and to be honest her features weren't the sort to inspire poets. Nor were her looks of the kind to inspire anyone into doing much of anything, she thought. Who could possibly be inspired by Millicent Bulstrode?

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He could always remember the moment when he had first 'become aware of' Millicent. They had all been in the Slytherin common room and Goyle had just made some singular comment to Draco. The look of astonishment on the blonde's face, at having been the butt of a joke, (and from one of his lackeys no less) had been so funny that everyone had started laughing. It had been at that moment, that he had observed that Millicent Bulstrode had a great laugh. It was the sort of laugh that made others want to laugh.

The surprise of that small discovery made him stop and really look at her. Listening to that rich low sound coming from her had made his chest tighten. He had found himself captivated by it, and he wanted to hear it again, and often.

From that moment he couldn't seem to stop watching her, when ever she was near his mind seemed to snap to attention, and he would find himself gazing at her. He found himself in parts of the castle where he knew she would be. Parts of the castle in which there were no reasons for him to be, unless it was for the sole purpose of catching a glimpse of her. That made lying to himself a bit difficult, but it didn't stop him.

Besides her laugh he noticed other things as well. She made funny remarks, she was witty. Those words were usually pitched so low under her breath that no one really picked up on them, and if he hadn't been keeping so close an eye on her he might have missed them himself.

She was tall, probably only an inch or so shorter than himself, and he found he liked that she was tall, it made finding her, in the mob of students, that much easier.

She walked like a queen. She might have been a bit more solidly built than some of the other girls, but she walked with long strides and a straight back, and it was all he could do not to stop in the hallway and turn when she passed. (To be fair, the times he stopped and turned far outweighed the times when he didn't)

Her face was broad and square but he couldn't find himself noticing much but her dark eyes when he was near her anyway. They were large and slanted slightly upwards at the corners, they looked like dark sheltered pools and if he were a writer he imagined he would already have written a few lines to them by now.

He had found himself admiring her hair on more than one occasion as well, dark and shoulder length with a fringe of bangs on her forehead, it looked very soft to the touch. His fingers itched to twine themselves in it.

But it was really more than all that that made him keep watching her. It was the feeling he got when he saw her through a crowded corridor. Or the thrill that rushed through him when she raised a glass to her lips in the great hall. The look on her face when she caught him staring at her made his blood leap in his chest. Looking back now it didn't seem possible that she could have been side by side with him for years and he hadn't noticed her. He must have been a blind fool. Well it was time he did something about it. Enough standing in the shadows watching Millicent. It was time to act.

His heart pumped faster as he waited for her class to adjourn. It seemed hours before he saw her dark head towering above everyone in the hall.

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"Millie...Millicent" His voice turned her on the spot. A smaller student not realizing she was going to stop, plowed into her with a mumbled apology. She started to say something.

Before she could say a word her arm was taken and she was pulled away from the other students and into a side corridor. He marched her along until it became silent, he seemed to be looking for something because he kept walking looking from side to side, finally he stopped and pushed her into an dim alcove.

He put a hand on the wall on either side of her shoulders, there was very little space between them and she could feel the body heat radiating off of him. For the first time, despite her size, she felt small and trapped, and though they were roughly the same height, he seemed to loom over her.

"Millicent." He stopped and took a deep breath, if she hadn't known better it would appear that he was nervous.

"Millicent..." He started again, "Millicent, will you go with me to Hogsmeade next weekend?" He finished it with a rush of breath and then stood looking at her expectantly.

She searched his face to see if he was joking, why would one of the most attractive boy in school be asking her out? She searched his face again. All she saw there was what seemed to be him earnestly waiting for her answer.

She thought about it for a moment then, nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but the words she was going to say died in her throat as he squashed his lips to hers in an uncomfortable and slightly awkward kiss. His hands fisted themselves in her hair and she found herself returning his kiss with a clumsy one of her own.

Long moments later he pulled back from her and smoothed a hand over her cheek. Grinning widely he leaned in again and this time gave her a kiss that lived up to his reputation. Her heart began singing and by the time he pulled back again it was all she could do to stand.

"Blaise Zabini, you're crazy!" She laughed in a husky voice, when she managed to catch her breath.

He looked at her and shrugged.

"Completely crazy..."He trailed off and the words 'about you' seemed to hang in the air between them, as he entwined their fingers together.

"Come on, we don't want to be late for class." He pulled her along behind him, out of the unused corridor and into the throng of students.

Hands still linked they strode through the halls, a perfectly 'mismatched' pair of Slytherins.

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The End

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A/N: One of the nice things about growing up is in finding that even unattractive, flawed, not 'perfect' people can still inspire love in someone.

**Information about Millicent was found in "The Harry Potter Lexicon" likewise Blaise. (But since there is very little about him besides his name and years at Hogwarts, I used artistic license.) **