Chapter 9

101 3 31
                                    

...in which kisses are stolen.

Blaise awoke late on Saturday morning to an empty dormitory. He wondered for a moment where everyone was, before remembering that there was a Quidditch game that day and that everyone would be outside on the Quidditch pitch; or at least all his roommates were.

Blaise was thankful that Draco hadn't tried to drag him down there with him like he usually did. Blaise could only take so much Quidditch, and watching the Slytherin games were enough for him, let alone all of them.

He sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. The windows in the dormitory were charmed to show the view outside, and Blaise estimated that it was about 10am from the amount of sunlight he could see; unfortunately for him that meant he'd missed breakfast.

He sighed before getting out from under the blankets and dressing for the day. A part of him wondered whether Luna would be around, but then he remembered Ravenclaw were playing. No doubt she'd be out there cheering her team on; he wasn't sure why, but the thought almost had him tempted to go.

Instead, however, he left the dungeons and headed up to the library, knowing full well Hermione would be in there. He hoped she really had agreed to forgive him, especially since he hadn't ever done anything to hurt her, except maybe not act against his friends.

But that was different now; Draco didn't hex her anymore, and was far too determined trying to get her to...well, Blaise wasn't sure exactly what his friend wanted from Hermione yet, but he was certain it didn't involve harming her.

That thought had Blaise thinking back to last night. Draco had almost given up because Hermione had been so blatantly uninterested. It actually had Blaise wondering whether his friend could handle a girl like Hermione.

If Draco was expecting a girl that would simply answer to his beck and call, like Pansy, then he may as well forget about it. What Blaise knew of Hermione was that she was not one to be told what to do or to become a simpering idiot. Is that what Draco expected of her?

Blaise wasn't sure, but when his friend had returned early last night from rounds he'd looked extremely miserable. The Italian wasn't sure of the exact nature of Draco and Hermione's conversation, but it obviously hadn't ended well, given Draco's mood and the clear pink hand-print on his normally pale cheek.

He wondered what sort of things Hermione had said to him, and whether they'd gotten through to Draco at all. While his friend acted obnoxious and rather ignorant most of the time, he knew deep down that Draco was more intelligent and observant then he let on, and if Hermione had given him a talking to, then there was no way it could've just gone straight over the boys head. He may act like it didn't affect him, but Blaise knew that if he really did want Hermione, then he would think on those words.

Blaise entered the library, and scanned around the book-filled room. It was completely void of people from what he could see, but he assumed Hermione was in their hidden area in the back. He continued through the shelves towards his usual desk, to find Hermione leaned over her work, and books scattered around her table.

She wasn't alone, however, in Blaise's usual seat, much to his annoyance, sat Neville Longbottom. Blaise stepped forward and cleared his throat. Both Gryffindors looked up curiously at the sound, before Hermione's face contorted to surprise. She eyed his book bag, then Neville occupying his desk, then Blaise again.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking sheepish, "I just assumed you'd be watching the Quidditch match."

Blaise gave a one armed shrug, though really he was more irritated then he let on, "It's fine."

The Fine Line Between Love and Hate | Dramione AU by Short-circuit-SoulmateWhere stories live. Discover now