Written for Hogwarts Flying Lessons - Assignment 1: Kicking Off - All relationships have to start start somewhere! Discuss potential problems. Prompt: 10. (object) a quill

WC: 1, 997

This will be a series of 12 one-shots that do not directly relate to each other! However, I'm going to make the stories use the exact same timeline of events. Because of this, the stories will be in "chronological order", although the connection from piece to piece may not necessarily be strong or evident.

I hope that you will enjoy these one-shots as much as I know I will writing them! :)

xo Summer

Third Year

"A quill."

Hermione paused writing and glanced up, irritated, to find a dark-haired, olive-skinned boy standing above her. She straightened warily. He was Blaise Zabini, a third-year like herself but in Slytherin, and she had enough experiences with Malfoy and his cronies to know that appearances from Slytherins were rarely a good thing.

But Zabini was simply looking at her expectantly, his posture not necessarily friendly but not menacing either. Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. "Sorry?"

"I would like a quill." He nodded at the two extra quills that she had placed on the library table beside her ink.

"Don't you have your own?" she asked, wondering why on earth he was asking her of all people for one.

He gave her an annoyed look, which made her raise her eyebrows as he held out his right hand. The broken halves of a silver quill sat in his palm, and its elegant feather made Hermione's simple quills seem shabby in comparison.

"You could use Reparo," Hermione began to point out, but decided it would be wasteful to sit there and argue against a simple request, especially when her essay lay in dire need of more work before dinner came around.

Quickly, she reached out, grabbed one of her quills, and handed it to him. "Do you need ink as well?"

"Nope." And abruptly, and without a word of thanks, Zabini took the quill and walked back to his table. Hermione watched him with some perplexion and irritation before returning to her essay.

It figured that the next time she looked up from her work, Blaise Zabini was gone from his seat, his books and her quill with him.

She supposed she could ask him for it next time the Slytherins had a class with the Gryffindors, but the interactions between the two Houses were generally so scarce - in fact, nonexistent for Hermione and Zabini - that she was certain she would never have the opportunity to get her writing utensil back.

Sighing, Hermione forced herself to return attention to her essay. Dinner was in half an hour and she still had two paragraphs to go.

Fifth Year

"… and Miss Granger and Mr. Zabini," Professor Vector finished. "Alright, you can move next to your partners now. Please give me your topics by the end of class."

Hermione scooped books off of her desk, and craned her neck, searching for Zabini as people moved around to their assigned partner.

She had had a feeling that she would be paired with the Slytherin. Professor Vector liked to pick final partners from different Houses, and Hermione had been partnered with a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff already. She supposed she could have been paired with one of the other Slytherins, but Professor Vector also liked to pick pairs according to performance.

It happened that Blaise Zabini had the second highest grade in the class, right below herself.

Hermione found the Slytherin at last, sitting in his seat with dark eyes already locked on her. He acknowledged her with a nod as she settled in the desk beside him.

"So," she began immediately, "do you have any ideas for our topic? I was thinking about doing a comparison between the Agrippan method and the Chaldean method. We could do hypothetical examples for each; I know there are some books in the library that show the alignment between them are closer than they seem-" She paused to take a breath.

"What a coincidence," Blaise took the opportunity to say. "I was thinking the exact same thing."

"Really?" Hermione could not help but sound incredulous.

He looked back at her and she noticed the way his eyes glinted with amusement. "No. Only you, Granger, could come up with a project with about a hundred subsections to it and commit to it. As for me, that's too much work. It won't do."

Hermione stared at him, slightly affronted. "Well, what was your idea then?"

Blaise waved a hand in the air. "Oh, I thought we could focus on the Chaldean method, since it's lesser known. Discuss its origins and the history behind it. Study why it's not as widely used."

She eyed the self-satisfied look on his face with distaste, but his idea did have an interesting premise. The gears in her mind were already spinning with all the exciting things they could research… "That's not a bad idea," she admitted begrudgingly. "We can do that."

He looked surprised but only said, "Excellent."

Hermione dug her hand in her bag to pull out a quill. It took a moment before she remembered that she'd lent her last spare one to Ron earlier in Charms and had forgotten to ask him to give it back - which therefore meant that she was now quill-less.

"You didn't bring any quills?" Hermione turned to Blaise, noting the amused expression on his face.

When she shook her head, he reached out to grab his own quill and held it out, the silver feather stark against his skin. "Here."

Surprised, Hermione took it. "Thanks." She finished writing just as the bell rang, and when she looked up, Zabini was already standing. "I'll turn it in," he said, taking the parchment from her.

She was still packing her books by the time Blaise returned to sling his bag over his shoulder. With a curt nod toward her general direction, he left.

It was half a minute later that Hermione realized he'd left his quill behind.

Mentally cursing herself, she rushed out of the classroom, bag banging carelessly against her knees, fingers clamped around the quill. Peering over the throng of students, Hermione spotted Zabini's dark hair at the end of the corridor.

"Zabini!" She set off, sidling through the crowd. "Zabini!" Blaise turned, as did his two companions.

Unfortunately, one of them happened to be Draco Malfoy. The blond's eyes narrowed as Hermione approached, while Daphne Greengrass simply looked disinterested.

"Here," she said to Zabini, catching up to his group and ignoring Malfoy's expression. "You forgot your quill."

Malfoy reached out before Blaise could, pushing her hand away. She frowned as Draco smirked. "He doesn't want it, Granger," he said insinuatingly. "It's been touched by a mudblood."

"You just touched a mudblood," Hermione pointed out. "I suppose that means you don't want your tainted fingers anymore."

She saw Daphne Greengrass's eyes widen fractionally, while the corner of Blaise's mouth lifted high with - what was it - amusement? Approval? He stepped forward to take his quill, the quirky smile still on his lips.

"We'll have to meet to work on the project," he said nonchalantly, either ignoring or not seeing Malfoy's incredulous face. "Tomorrow night in the library?"

"Er, yes. That should be fine."

He nodded once, then turned around, twirling his quill in his hands. Daphne soon hurried to catch up to him, and Malfoy cast Hermione a hard glare before stalking after the others. His platinum gold hair glinted nearly silver in the afternoon light as he left.

Sixth Year

"My quill snapped," Blaise announced to no one in particular in the nearly-empty library. He held up a sharp point that had evidently broken off his silver quill.

Hermione briefly glanced at it. "Use Reparo." Rustling sheets of notes, she reached out to point at the textbook splayed open between them. "Look, doesn't this contradict what we said in our research analysis?"

She felt Zabini's arm brush hers as he lean in to read, and immediately moved to put some space between them. She averted her eyes from the Slytherin as she waited for him to finish reading.

"Hm. Yes. It does." Blaise paused then grinned. "Although, really, no one but us has to know that."

She gave him an exasperated look and started to shuffle through their report papers, searching for their analysis sheet. "We'll have to fix that, and the conclusion - I distinctly recall that we mentioned it there -"

"It's not as if anyone will notice," Blaise said dismissively.

"You sound like Harry and Ron," she muttered aloud.

He raised his eyebrows at her. "I should hope I don't." Before she could retort, he said imploringly, "Look. You're starting to mention Potter and Weasley, which means that we've been here far too long already - but if you insist on staying here until curfew, I have no objections. That is, as long as we get a break. Right now."

Hermione frowned, then tossed down her quill. "Oh, alright," she said irritably. "Five minutes. Or we're not going to finish this in time."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "It's not due for another week," he pointed out as he stood. "I'll be right back." He waggled his broken silver quill in the air then took off into the bookshelves.

Hermione watched him disappear behind a shelf that hid most of the library from view, from their little table in the back.

They had sat at this same table many nights last year too, working on Arithmancy like they were now. She remembered how methodical their work had been then - almost purely academic, without much companionship between them. It was different now, better, as if all the interaction last year was allowing them to become casual acquaintances this year, if not scholarly friends.

Hermione had been surprised when she'd first discovered that she and Zabini were partners again for their final this year, but didn't mind so much. Blaise did his fair share, contributed good ideas, and was not keen on procrastination. They worked well as partners, even better now that she felt more comfortable with him. Strangely comfortable, she was beginning to suspect -

Blaise came back into sight, and Hermione straightened in her chair. He was frowning down at the quill in his hands. "Pince didn't have any extras," he said regretfully.

She eyed the broken object as he settled into his chair. "Is there a reason why you're not using Reparo to fix it?"

"For someone so clever, you should know already. Even if I did repair it, it wouldn't work."

Hermione blinked. "Why not?"

"Because if everybody could fix their quills every time they broke, then when would people need to purchase more?" He heard her protest and added, "They only do this with the more expensive quills. The kind that you're using" - he nodded toward hers - "still works after a Reparo." Blaise smirked at her. "Really, I'm surprised you didn't know already."

Hermione scowled at him but said, "Fascinating." Reaching down for her bag, she added briskly, "Well, if you're quill-less at the moment, you can borrow one of mine."

"Charitable of you, Granger," said Blaise, but he accepted her quill with a quirk of a smile. "Alright, what were the corrections we had to make?"

He began to flip through their papers. Hermione paused, eyeing the easy smile that was now familiar to her, like his handwriting, like the way he never wore his Slytherin tie when they worked together; the way they never greeted each other outside of the library or Arithmancy classroom but when their eyes met anyway, he always looked amused or entertained -

Hermione bit down on her lip, hard, and moved forward to help search through the papers.

They worked for an hour longer, until Madam Pince informed them that curfew was in ten minutes. "Are you coming same time tomorrow night?" Hermione asked, as she and Blaise packed up and exited the library.

"Possibly. Yes."

"Alright, see you then."

There was a slightly awkward pause, then Hermione started walking down the corridor, thinking wearily of the Transfiguration essays she'd promised Harry and Ron she would look over. She was almost at the corner when Blaise said, "By the way, Granger."

Turning to look at him, Hermione saw that he was holding her quill up between two long fingers. Without warning, he tossed it at her and, though surprised, she caught it.

The easiness in Blaise's voice that she was now familiar with was strangely warming as he called out, his back already half-turned, "Thanks for the quill."

Oh gosh, are you guys in love with this pairing as much as I am, or am I just crazy?