Bonus Chapter –

Chapter 3 – Hiding (Rewritten in Blaise Zabini's POV)

Enjoy :)

Footsteps.

Quiet, hurried, careful, cautious – and feminine.

Blaise frowned. They were headed straight for the Prefects Bathroom. Which, Blaise was not ashamed to admit, he was illegally enjoying the luxury of. But honestly, what kind of stuck-up set of Prefects were selfish enough to keep the big-enough-to-produce-three-echoes bathroom to themselves? The Hogwarts set of Prefects, that's who. He'd never liked them. He'd never liked any of the Heads, either. All snobbish little know-alls.

Although, that Granger girl seemed to be a little different. Still one hell of a know-all, but Blaise wasn't sure about anything else about her. Yeah, there was definitely something a little different about Granger…

His curiosity growing as the footsteps approached, Blaise threw his shirt back onto the bench and turned to the large mahogany door, his head cocked to the side.

Should he hide? As soon as the thought drifted into his mind, it drifted out again. It seemed Blaise could get away with a lot of things around here. People never gave him much trouble. Especially girls. They just turned extremely red, like they were suddenly suffering from lack of air. More times than one, especially around his tween years, Blaise had wondered if he just breathed so deeply there was never any air left for those with smaller lungs – like the girls – around him.

He listened intently as the girl breathed out the password that he'd persuaded – or was it intimidated? – the Slytherin Prefect to 'let slip'.

Shock caused his eyes to widen a smidgeon as a mass of warm brown curls – accompanied by a body, of course – flew into the bathroom. Instantly, he recognized them to be Hermione Granger's. He watched her silently and curiously as she hastily slammed shut the heavy door and slid home the bolt – all surprisingly fast for someone with such delicate wrists. Her body collapsed against the door in relief and the question of her sanity leapt into Blaise's mind as he heard a rather maniacal giggle erupt from her panting red lips. He watched her – feeling oddly alienated and detached – as she slid to the floor slowly. He got the feeling he was intruding, despite the face he was there first, and began to wonder whether or not he should make his presence known… Perhaps with a polite cough? Or maybe a cool, 'Excuse me, Granger.'

But it was too late. She'd turned around and spotted him. It was obvious by the way she gasped so loud he was surprised there was any air left for him to inhale.

'Sweet Merlin!' she cried angrily, her face already gone a beetroot red. Blaise couldn't help but smirk a little. It was funny to watch how red that girl's face could go, as if all her blood cells had gone through the drill so many times they were just pros at getting up there to her cheeks. Amazing.

Straight after she'd gasped out her surprise – and upon noticing Blaise's shamelessly topless state – Granger's eyes snapped down to the floor as if on Naked Flesh Auto-Pilot. He smirked again. She was just too cute. Really.

Wait. Inappropriate thoughts. She's a Gryffindor Zabini!

'You're not a Prefect!' Granger snapped crossly, as if this should send Blaise out the door, stuttering bashful apologies whilst haphazardly pulling on a T-shirt.

Ha.

Did she honestly expect it to be that easy? Besides, he was there first.

Blaise smirked challengingly. 'Neither are you.'

He felt like waggling his eyebrows smugly. Take that.

'I'm Head Girl. I'm allowed to be here.' Oh, poor, poor Granger. If she could only come up with a come-back like that she was going to have to find a career in tending pigmy puffs, because the real world was much much harsher.

But still, she had a fair point. And who was he to waste time with the pointless argument? There were better things he could be doing. A two feet long Potions essay for one. Blaise nodded and casually moved closer. It was weird, because he was sure that was what normal people did when they wanted to initiate polite conversation (because she obviously wasn't planning on moving away from the door any time soon), yet Granger's eyes widened and she eyed him like a deer who was about to be pranced on and torn apart limb by limb by a lion. And yes, he was the lion. A rather befitting (though rather graphic) metaphor, he thought.

'I take it you didn't come in here to take a bath,' he remarked, deciding to keep the conversation simple. Looking up at him, she grimaced rather guiltily – like she was the one breaking the rules. Wait a moment… why wasn't she taking points off? Why wasn't she giving him a detention?!

Ah. Again, his 'deep breathing' was working its magic.

'You're right,' Granger admitted, like he'd required a notepad and magnifying glass to figure it out. What a strange person.

'Hiding from Holmes?' Blaise asked, remembering seeing a tall, insecure looking boy trailing after her, Potter and Weasley a lot lately, apologizing profusely. Hogwarts gossip made sure Blaise knew the boy's name, house and reason for stalking. It was his fault Blaise had had to escort Miss Granger to the Hospital Wing. Merlin, what an idiot. Surely he could narrow down his aim to at least a hundred metres of his target?!

Granger scowled instinctively before replying tiredly, 'Yes.' Then she blinked and stared up at Blaise like she was seeing him for the first time. He stared back until she suddenly exploded. 'Merlin – will you put on a shirt? You're in a public place you know!'

Blaise almost grinned. Almost. Instead, he raised an eyebrow skeptically. Was she for real? She did know she was describing a bathroom as public, didn't she?

'Actually,' he corrected, 'it was quite a private place until you came barging in.'

This seemed to have the strangest effect on Granger. She glared at him thoroughly. Her lips twitched for a good few seconds and Blaise felt compelled to wonder if maybe someone had hexed her and she was desperately trying to tell him something but couldn't because her face was frozen. But then she did the oddest, most primary-school thing he'd witnessed since grade two. She actually mimicked him. And it wasn't a spot-on, 'hey, that sounded exactly like me!' kind of mimic, either. It was a high-pitched, distorted, annoying little brother mimic.

Ha-ha!

Blaise snorted, unable to contain himself whilst Granger spun and stuck her ear stubbornly against the door, apparently listening for any sign of the needy fifth year who had chased her into the bathroom. Who would have thought that Hermione Granger could stoop so low?! Blaise forced the laughter down and his face composed itself again.

'That's some great wit you've got Granger,' he told her.

'Shut up!' she snarled, her face bright red. 'And go put a goddamn shirt on!'

If a person could go any redder they should have been registered as an animagus, because it was unbelievable how much like a furry beetroot Granger's head looked at that moment. Although… then wouldn't they have to register as a vege-magus or something? Oh well.

'If it bothers you that much,' Blaise complied lightly before going to find his shirt. He pulled it over his head and noticed that Granger still had the side of her face pressed obstinately against the wooden door.

Wonder if she actually heard him out there?… Not that he cared. He had a Potions essay to complete. He shouldered his bag and moved to where she sat.

'Granger,' he said to get her attention off what were probably the sounds of a mouse scampering around outside the bathroom door. 'Move. As much as it appeals to me, I've better things to do than spend the afternoon in the Prefects Bathroom with you.'

A little harsh perhaps? Well, she mustn't have been expecting any better. After all, he was a Slytherin.

Granger shot up astoundingly fast and Blaise stumbled back a few paces as her face was suddenly far too close to his. He blinked and then stared at down at her as her face was level with his shoulders. She was guarding the door with her body, her arms flung out either side of her like he was threatening to set it ablaze.

'You can't go!' she cried quite desperately. Sweet Merlin.

'Why not?' he asked, finding it hard to keep the scepticism out of his voice as he did.

Granger began ranting, speaking her words as if Blaise had to have lost a mighty big load of brain cells to not find it as obvious as she did.

'Because if Lachlan sees you come out, he'll most definitely have a peek inside here just to check if I'm here too and then it'll be like I'm the Pope and Lachlan's come for confession!' she cried, her curls bouncing around her pink, delicate looking face. 'He'll say 'I'm sorry' about twenty times verbally, and then hand me a card and a teddy bear and a bouquet of roses that all sing the cursed words over and over in different pitches about thirty-seven times. And then he'll insist on walking me to my dorm!'

She took several deep breaths and then looked at Blaise insistently. 'You can't leave – not yet.'

Ho ho ho! Look at which High and Mighty Gryffindor was asking the Slimey Sltherin for a little helping hand!

Now, to extend that hand or not…?

Gah! This is why that damn hat didn't just bellow out Slytherin straight-off. Blaise inwardly rolled his eyes and nudged the panting girl in front of him to the side. He then pressed his ear to the door, avoiding her stunned stare. Wait… could he see her smiling out the corner of his eye?!

Dear god. What had he gotten himself into?

Granger bent awkwardly at the waist to also listen for Holmes. For this, Blaise was glad. It would have been a whole lot more awkward if she positioned her face level to his. Especially since the door was particularly narrow. But after only a few seconds of hopeful listening, she slid all the way back down to the tiles again. Again, Blaise was pretty glad. But this time it was because he'd been having trouble stopping his gaze from drifting over to Granger's – ahem – backside, which had been sticking out in a way that made it increasingly difficult to do so.

What felt like minutes passed, in which the only noise was Granger's soft breathing. Blaise had always found it weird how loud other people seemed to breathe. He could never hear the air rushing through his own lips, unless he took huge, rib-rattling gasps.

Muffled through the heavy wood came Holmes' lost voice as he called out Granger's name. Blaise smirked evilly at how pathetic he sounded. By now Blaise hated Lachlan Holmes. It was because of that damn boy that he was stuck in a bathroom with Hermione Granger! Although, it wasn't as bad as he would have thought it to be.

He waited impatiently until there was a solid silence outside the door and then straightened away from the door. He was just about to give a curt farewell to Granger when she made a noise that greatly resembled a cheep and she toppled backwards onto the floor. She glared up at him and Blaise stared back, confused as to what he did to deserve such a condemning eyeball.

'What?' he asked, feeling (but not sounding) defensive.

'You dripped on me,' she mumbled, half to herself. She rubbed the back of her neck grouchily. 'Why didn't you wipe yourself off properly?' she complained in an amusing, rather Mother-like voice. 'Last time I checked, the just-walked-through-the-Niagara-Falls look was not in. I mean, you come from the rich family of Zabini, right? So it's not like you can't afford a good functioning towel…'

Watching her, legs spread out on the floor, pouting and rubbing her neck grumpily like his three year old niece – it was just hilarious for such a high-status girl like Hermione Granger to be in such a position. He laughed.

Her face snapped up and she blinked at him several times in something like shock – but for the life of him, Blaise couldn't figure out why she looked so surprised. Then, Hermione Granger did something that made the very laughter die in his throat. She smiled.

She had a pretty nice smile. Nice, white and straight. With pink gums. Blaise wondered what toothpaste she used. But maybe it wasn't the teeth that made it nice? Maybe it was the way her cheeks pushed up in rosy little curves, accenting her small chin. Or the way her lips stretched upwards bashfully, and her eyes peeped up at him from behind thick brown lashes.

…sweet Merlin. What was wrong with him?

Blaise shook his head at himself and then grabbed a white fluffy towel off the bench, no doubt left for him by a House Elf. Nice creatures. Easy to please. Blaise had once told one he had appreciated its service after it had done him some errands. He thought it was going to have a coronary, it looked so pleased.

He rubbed the towel in his hair quickly and slung it over his shoulders. It was a good towel. Would have been a pity to leave it on the bench. He cocked an eyebrow at Granger pointedly when he was done.

She nodded approvingly and smiled, thought this one disappeared faster than the other. She rose off the floor and shoved her hands behind her back rather fiercely.

'Bye!' she said rapidly, in a way that made it sound more like a military command.

Blaise decided not to give the movement or the bark much thought and made his way to the door. He was about a metre away from her (she was standing just to the left of the door) when she practically leaped out his way like he carried the Black Plague. Ok, now she was scaring him a little.

He shot her a sideways glance and saw she had a small and innocent smile on her face. The strangest thing happened then. It was probably because he was hungry, but it was like his intestines squeezed together. And his throat went a little dry so he had to swallow. It was really weird, as it had never happened to Blaise before. But since Blaise was, as he liked to think, a pretty laid-back person, he didn't think much of it. Besides, it wasn't like he had much time to ponder before she opened her mouth and started spilling out words as if she were a tap.

'Thanks for not leaving before – it was rather…well, it wasn't something I expected from you – or any other Slytherin for that matter. In fact, I'm surprised I didn't just walk right out and surrender; I was pretty convinced it would have had the same result. I mean, it was very uncharacteristic in my opinion and –'

Blaise stared at her, pretty shocked at the sudden outburst, and cocked an eyebrow. Her eyes widened and she looked down to the hand Blaise had on the doorknob. She went so red Blaise wondered if it hurt.

'I won't judge you again,' She concluded abruptly and thrust her hand into the gap between them rather mechanically.

Blaise cocked his head to the side a millimetre as he watched her, wondering what was happening. Why was she going to such lengths to make it clear how confused she was? Although, that probably wasn't what she was trying to make clear. Feeling almost sympathetic, Blaise slid his hand into hers. He shook her hand lightly, not looking away from her large, chocolate brown eyes. He did try to look away, but he couldn't. They were so clear, so intriguing. He could see so much in them. Just as he studied her eyes, she studied his, but he couldn't bring himself to feel self-conscious. She looked so innocent. He could see confusion in her eyes, and slight doubt. But there was something else that Blaise was a little shocked to recognize. She trusted him. Only a bit though, and probably against her own will, but it was still rather unnerving. Especially because a feeling of satisfaction filled him when he saw it.

Blaise's hand dropped from hers when he realized that they'd been clasping hands for a little longer than the average handshake. He tucked his hand in her pocket and curled it into a fist. He dug his fingers into his palm, trying to stifle the hot, tingling feeling that emanated from it.

'Cool,' he said nodding slowly. He smirked, forgetting the foreign feelings that had run through his body. 'So can I go now?'

She blushed again and nodded rapidly.

'Sure.'

He smirked again at how embarrassed she looked and held open the door for her. She looked at him questioningly after an awkward moment and he rolled his eyes at her obliviousness. For the 'brightest witch of her age' she sure was thick.

'Go on,' he said, feeling uncomfortable that he had to explain his actions. It would have been so much easier if she just slipped past him and they continued on their separate ways. Now he had to make out like he was some old-fashioned gentleman. 'Ladies first, right?'

Granger's eyes widened to the size of golf balls and Blaise's expression went dry. Did she honestly think him such a mannerless prat? Or did she just think every boy was like Weasley?

As soon as she saw his expression, her own went indifferent. 'What?' she asked, her voice gaining a lofty tone. Blaise wanted to roll his eyes again and grin smugly at her façade.

'It just fills me with such exuberance to see how much credit you give me,' he explained mordantly, ignoring both temptations as he teased her. 'What – Slytherins aren't allowed to have manners, either now? That's harsh, Granger. Especially for someone who just promised to be less judgmental a few seconds ago.'

Sensing that he wasn't really offended, Granger objected, 'You've gotta give me more credit for trying.' Blaise shrugged before she continued with a hint of apology 'Besides, we can't leave at the same time. If someone saw us – well, I've got enough rumours going around about me and Holmes waiting to be exterminated. You and I emerging out of the Prefects Bathroom together – what with you so wet and me all – well, I suppose I'm dry – but the point is, Lavender and Pavarti would have a field day.'

Ahh. Why hadn't he thought of that? A shiver ran through him at what rumours could have surfaced if not for Granger's quick thinking. He nodded at her.

'Right. See ya, Granger.'

He made his way to the common room, where he laboriously finished off the Potions essay before retiring to his bed, where under his soft green and silver sheets, he pondered the things he'd discovered about a girl who was proving to be much more than he'd expected.