A Freak of Nature

A/N: Okay...here's the next chapter you've been waiting for. thanx to everyone who reviewed so far, I really appreciate it:-) Since we've done with Hermione's background, it's time to move on more ,interesting things, so to say...read and hopefully Enjoy!


Glancing at her surroundings, Hermione thought that maybe it was a bad idea to come here. She was sitting on the chair at Blaise’s desk in his room, waiting for him to come back from the bathroom.

His room didn’t looked much different from her own. Her room was made in three colors: black, red, and gold. The last two representing her house colors, just as green and Silver represented Slytherin, Zabini’s house. His room was made in those colors, plus black, just like her own: A large, four poster bed with heavy curtains, a desk, a few chairs, a bookshelves, a closet, and a mirror. Everything was identical to the furniture in her room, except for the colors, of coarse.

Maybe she would just wait until tomorrow? She pushed the sudden thought away quickly. She had to talk with him today; it would be much easier to deal with everything today.
What would she tell him? She didn’t know exactly, to be honest. All of her thoughts seemed to be running circles in her mind, not wanting to stop from their erratic movement to let her decide what to do.

She could not lie to the face of another person, but she could delicately avoid the truth. She had mastered that over the years.

He’d just caught her in a very emotional moment. Usually she deal with those emotions by punching a pillow or something similar. He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She laughed a little, remembering Harry’s comment about Zabini’s ability to speak. As shocking as it may be, she really hadn’t heard him speak much in all of her years at school and to honest, she hadn’t even noticed him until the end of fifth year. Maybe the first time she noticed him was when they were both partnered together in Arithmancy class?

The longest phrase she had possibly ever heard from him was couple of days ago when she made him rearrange his things in the bathroom.

He did everything exactly like she told him to and never even said a word in reply. If not for her excellent hearing she would have missed his comments when she left the bathroom that evening. He had whispered something to himself in Italian. His voice was low and smooth, filled with irritation and words of complaint. She didn’t need to know Italian to understand what he was saying, but judging by his tone...he didn’t speak in literaly language. She was sure of it.

She loved order in everything, he obviously preferred things to be disorganized. They just didn’t ‘click’ in this department.

She could see it perfectly now, a few books - who in the world would do that!-argh!-she screamed inside - were lying open on the floor; school robes were hanging in the open closet; Slytherin tie was lying across his desk. Hermione tried to fight the urge to stand up and clean his room.

No. She wouldn’t be acting like a House Elf and cleaning up after him. Not in this world!

She closed her eyes and rubbed her temple with her fingers, trying to relax.

After a few moments the water was turned off and Hermione heard footsteps near the bathroom door. Her hand were nervously clutching the hem of her skirt as the door knob turned. She looked up at the sound of the opening door.

The lights from the bathroom were brighter than in the lights of the room and this contrast made his skin look a shade darker than it truly was. And the fact that he was only dressed in a white towel that hung loosely around his waist was not helping her concentration.

Even if Zabini was surprised to see her here, he didn’t showed it at all.

His hair were dripping wet and hung loosely over his eyes.With one swift movement he pushed them aside and closed the door behind him. His body was rather well defined and Hermione couldn’t help but look him over. He was not overly muscular, but lean and toned.
He had strong arms and legs, broad shoulders and a narrow waist; a real swimmer’s body. Her eyes traveled over his bare chest, down to his abdomen, and lingered at the perfect V-shaped form which was made by his muscles and hip bones. There was a trail of dark curls going down from his navel straight to his...

“Like what you see, Gryff?” his voice brought her back to reality.

She blushed and turned around. Not wanting to answer his question, she tried to say as firmly as she could manage, “I just wanted to apologies for...what happened before....er...earlier...today.”

She could not see him, but that could not prevent her from practically feeling the smirk he had plastered on his lips. What was with those damn Slytherins and their smirking anyway ?

And Blaise indeed was smirking; he just couldn’t help it, it was a natural reaction. It was strange to see Granger blushing so madly at the mere sight of the male body. Why was one side of her so much different from the other? He was mused. One moment she was a fierce - he dared to say - woman, who knew no mercy for her enemy a few moments before taking his life. In a second she could turn into an innocent lamb, blushing and trembling like a virgin on her wedding night

“Apology accepted,” was the only answer he could think of. She seemed to tell the truth. She indeed was sorry.If there was one thing he was good at was reading other people. Hermione Granger was particularly difficult, something else radiated from her besides guilt; she was nervous and emotionally unstable.

She turned back and looked up once again only to see him standing a few meters away from her, leaning on one of the posts of his bed.

Somehow she thought there would be more talking. His questions, her answers...She underestimated Slytherin. He obviously was a ‘less talk, more action’ type of guy.

Well, if he didn’t wanted to talk to her any further, she could do nothing about it. She stood up and prepared to leave his room when suddenly she tripped over one of the books on the floor.

However, after she didn’t ‘kiss’ the floor she found herself being pulled up by a pair of strong arms around her waist. She was determined to stay up on her own and pushed him away from her...

This was a big mistake.

While he held her closer to him, his towel still was not wrapped tightly enough around his waist, in her opinion. When Hermione tried to push herself away from him, it managed to fall down on to the floor between them. She found herself leaning onto his shoulder and inhaling his scent. His smell reminded her of a little bi spiced green-tea...fresh scent was mixing with musk and mandarin. Her left hand was touching his chest and practically burned with heat which radiated from his body. Her right hand, however....

Oh,Shit! Holy mother of...

Her right hand was touching some warmer part of his body. The velvet feel of his skin and small curls under her hand as something pulsed under it...She looked up in shock, shifting a little in her pose, trying to tell herself that it defiantly was NOT the thing she though it was.

Zabini suddenly hissed at her movement. His eyes were half close.

“I’m not a broomstick, Granger. Try not to grip me so hard.” His voice was husky, filled with something she could not recognize.

She squicked and practically jumped away from him, covering her eyes with her right hand.

“Sorry...I...sorry, sorry, sorry!”

Suddenly realizing what she had just held with her hand, she quickly switched them.

“You’d better go,” she heard from behind.

She nodded her head in agreement, “Yes, go, now.”

Practically running away from his room, she quickly went inside of her’s, shutting the door loudly.

Oh ,God...She was so embarrassed. Looking in the mirror, she saw that her face was the color of Ron’s hair.

She walked to her desk and took a sip from her vial of Sleeping Draught. Lying back on her bed, she wanted nothing more than for sleep to take over and to forget what she had just done.


After Granger ran out of his room, Blaise didn’t even bother to take the towel from the floor. Laying down on his bed covers, he allowed himself to think over what had just occured in his room.

He was not a vigrin by any means. He’d had sex a few times before, using the whores from the Knockturn alley after his sixteenth birthday.

To say he didn’t liked it was not the right thing to say. He did, only it somehow was emotionless on his part. All his actions were turned only to satisfying his own needs. He touched, licked, fucked only to feel his own release. Women replied greatly upon his actions. Screaming, moaning....but they never made him feel like Granger had.

He wanted to hold her. Her touch made his body and soul ache with need for her. Her warmth, her breath on his skin...he wanted to kiss her for Merlin’s sake! He’d never kissed a girl in all his eighteen years of living. Never. Even with those women he’d been with....They were too tainted, too dirty...and kissing was much more intimate to him, more than everything else.

Not wanting to erase the touch of her hand from the memory of his skin, he dared not to pleasure himself now...He would wait and just lie back...thinking, remembering...

Hermione Granger made him fell different things, pushing him out of the cell he’d locked himself in. He sighed and turned himself to a different side, taking one pillow and holding it closer to him.

A small smirk grazed his lips as he slowly drift off to sleep. He wanted her now. Not only her body, but her soul and mind as well. Blaise Zabini wasn’t put in Slytherin for nothing. He would make her his...one way, or another.


A/N: Next chapter will be up somewhere by the end of this week.