Teach Me How to Love You (A Hermione Granger Love Story)

TMHTLY (A Hermione Granger Love Story) ... 13 -Part 1-

A/N: [Edited 2/6/2016]  This was the last chapter I pre-edited before adding.

Teach Me How to Love You (A Hermione Granger Love Story)

Chapter 13: Realizing the Obvious

-Part 1-: Turning the Tables

This wasn't going to work. I changed my mind: I absolutely did not like Blaise Zabini. There was no way I could! He was horrid and miserable company. His sense of humor was equivalent to Ronald's, and not even in the endearing way. He's humiliated me in every sense of the word, made me doubt who I was, and even made me cry in public. His dark brown eyes did not pierce into my soul, his smile certainly didn't steal my breath away, and that scar on his left jaw didn't cause any curious kissing ideas to pop into my head. I did not like Blaise Zabini.

I desperately did though. For two years running, despite all my attempts not to. Despite liking Caden. Caden, who was kind and everything that a girl could love in a guy. Caden, who liked me enough to help me win over another guy.

"—you understand so far?" Caden's voice protruded into my thoughts.

"Yeah."

I did understand. It was a simple enough plan.

Luna appeared out of nowhere, looking over Caden's shoulder and flipping through the plans. "Hm, easy enough. 'Mi, can I ask you a few questions?"

I glance at Caden momentarily, see him shrug. This obviously wasn't part of the plan.

"Yeah, sure."

"I'm only asking because we're only assuming up until this point that it's true."

I take in a sharp inhale of breath.

"You like Blaise, correct?"

It only takes me a minutes of hesitation to blurt out, "I like Blaise." No embarrassment passed over my face with an angry red. Huh. I admitted that pretty easily. Try again, "I like Blaise," I laugh, my head feeling lighter than it has all week. "I do. I like him." It leaves a sweet taste in my mouth, cloudy and smooth. My hands started to sweat, my throat closed up. "I like Blaise," it come out rather strangled, dread starting to settle once more. Tears formed in my eyes; I balled up my fist quietly. "I like him so much." Even to my own ears it sounded desperate. "Merlin, I'm so stupid."

An awkward quiet settled around the table. The Library was completely empty besides us. Even Mrs. Pince was nowhere in sight.

"Hermione," Luna whispered delicately. Her hand is rubbing my back gently. "Humor me for a moment?"

I nodded mutely, sniffling back more tears.

"What's Blaise's favorite color?"

The word fell from my lips before I could even think, "Purple."

"Okay, good. What Quidditch team does he support?"

A small grin formed, "The Holyhead Harpies, the idiot."

Luna sat down across from me, "Right, and which does he hate the most?"

"Fitchburg Finches, 'bloody Americans'."

The blonde gave a silent giggle before asking easily, "What does he want to be when he graduates?"

Giving a wet and exasperated sigh, I drop my hands down onto the table. "An Unspeakable, Luna! He'd do so much better as a Mediwizard or Potioneer! Why he would want to work with the Ministry is beyond me, really! I tried to tell him in class—" Luna smiling steadily at me causes me to pause mid-tirade.

"Guess what, 'Mi? Not a single one of those interesting tidbits were questions from class," Caden flashed the Getting to Know the Opposite worksheet at me. Snatching it from his hands, I flick through the questions quickly. Not a single one was written down.

That's when it hit me, there were things that I just knew about Blaise. Small things like he didn't like olives and that his closest friend was actually Theodore Nott. Where the facts came from, I don't even remember. From observing him, maybe.

Or maybe, just maybe dammit, I had asked him about them on the fly, just because I wanted to know it about him.

This was all just proves my liking Blaise Zabini of my own accord.

"You get what I'm trying to say?" I nodded at them both. "Now let us help you. You deserve this, don't you?"

"Deserve what?"

"Happiness."

---------- | Blaise's POV | -----------

Fuck. Granger's face was ingrained into my head. Raw and vulnerable in a way I had never seen before. Eyes watering constantly, words whispered so delicately. We were equally responsible for what was happening. She was going to be the absolute death of me. She was annihilating everything I had skillful concealed. Add my slip up, Hermione, and I was already doomed. I needed to ignore this. Shake it off, return the favor.

When I got my hands on her I was going to humiliate her, mortify her, and—and kiss her. Like I had been meaning to, I suppose. Like I properly should. Her and her bushy hair and headstrong attitude. The way she always carried that stupid book around with her and how she always smelt slightly like blipberry. The way she had burrowed herself into my skin and had settled there. That didn't make sense. She was just a stupid girl. She was hardly pretty, and her personality countered mine in too many ways and—and this was getting ridiculous. I'll just ignore it.

Taking out a quill, ink, and small piece of parchment, I write the next letter for Granger in narrow letters, making it out for the next day.

Date: 12/22/11

Granger,

Task #3: Kiss Bone. Publicly.

Consequence: Girl's Question #22

-BZ

-----

Love and fireworks,

unique-goddess