Chapter Text
Blaise Zabini had sworn off love by the tender age of seven, after he had lost yet another stepfather. It had been quite obvious to him even then that love was far more trouble than it was worth, and in some cases had proven to be deadly.
So when he had first seen Hermione Granger with her wild hair and captivating amber eyes, he believed his interest to be purely academic. She had a thirst for knowledge that was hard not to admire and he found himself wanting to know her. But of course, that wasn't likely as she had found herself sorted into Gryffindor and the Lions weren't exactly known for playing nice with Snakes such as himself.
It had been easy enough to watch her to learn more about the little witch who had ensnared him, the moment that he had laid eyes on her, from the shadows. At least for the first few years, but it became harder once he realized in fourth year when he saw her on the arm of Viktor Krum that his interest was anything but innocent. He'd wanted nothing more than to rip her out of the brute's arms and claim her for his own in front of the entire school. He wouldn't care who saw either, unlike so many of the members of his house, he didn't care even slightly about her blood status.
She was the most intelligent witch in the school and was bloody gorgeous. Who cared if she wasn't another pureblood principessa ? He and his mother would much prefer him to be with a woman with brains and ambition. But Blaise Zabini had been raised better than that; he would never cause a scene. And so he bit his tongue and bided his time.
He had almost lost it after she had been used as a pawn at the bottom of the Black Lake. It had taken every ounce of restraint he'd had and for Theo to threaten to hex him for him to calm down. He had stormed off the second that she had been returned safely to shore, knowing that seeing Viktor comfort and touch her would have destroyed him. After that, he found any excuse to be near her, including joining her little study groups. They had formed a sort of friendship by the end of the year when everything went tits up.
The return of Voldemort had shaken Blaise's mother, who informed him that she would be taking residence in their villa in Italy for the foreseeable future. She had requested that he not return to Hogwarts after the summer, but he had declined, explaining that he wasn't ready to run away yet. She had, of course, guessed that he was staying for a girl, but he knew that she would never understand his want to stay for a girl who barely even knew he existed.
When he had returned to Hogwarts for his fifth year, it had taken him three weeks to finally get the brilliant witch alone to confess his feelings. When he had approached her from behind, he honestly hadn't realized how close he was too distracted by the scent of her always the same lilacs and parchment . It wasn't until she had turned around to face him and her plump breasts and hard nipples brushed against his chest. He groaned. It wasn't surprising that her nipples were hard with how cold the library was, and he truly couldn't have been blamed for what happened next. He couldn't have resisted if he tried when she let a breathy little surprised gasp.
He kissed her in that moment, hard, like kissing her was the only thing that he was put in this bloody world to do. Her hands had found their way to his chest as his snaked their way into her curls. The kiss had been everything he had ever hoped for.
“What was that?” she whispered, bringing her fingers up and pressing them against her lips in shock.
“I do believe that's what is called a kiss.” He smirked and she swatted at his chest playfully as her cheeks flushed a pretty pink.
“You know what I mean, Zabini.” He smiled as she looked up at him through her thick lashes.
“I've had my tongue down your throat, please call me Blaise.” He smirked and enjoyed watching as a pretty blush crept up her neck.
“Fine,” he watched her slender neck as she swallowed hard, “what was that Blaise?”
Blaise felt the heat in his core as he pressed her back against the shelf, one hand finding its way to her waist. She let out the prettiest little breathy moan as he leaned down to press his lips right below her ear.
“I've been wanting to do that since the Yule Ball, and I couldn't wait any longer,” he whispered and enjoyed the way that she quivered.
“So, you just came here for a kiss?” She smiled, and he loved that she wasn't going to make this easy for him.
“No cheeky witch, I came here to find you. So that I could try and convince you to date me.” He breathed into her neck before pulling back to see her shocked expression.
Before she could speak, he leaned in, claiming her mouth once more. He knew that if she was about to turn him down, he wanted to savor every chance he had to taste her on his lips.
The warmth of her in his hands was intoxicating as their kiss deepened, and he was certain that this was a memory he'd be utilizing for years to come on those lonely nights. He rested his forehead to hers as he looked deeply into her amber eyes, as he waited for her to break his heart.
“Date you? Like openly?” She finally asked, breaking the silence.
The question seemed so ridiculous, he couldn't imagine a world in which he would want to hide that he had finally made her his witch. “Yes, openly, why would I want to hide you?”
He could see the confusion in her eyes as her brow furrowed, “Because of your housemates.”
Blaise scoffed, like any of them or their opinions would matter to him.
“Do you really think that I care about what a bunch of bigots think?”
“I–”
“Or is it you that wouldn't want anyone to know?” He interrupted her as the thought hit him.
He could never be ashamed of her, but the Gryffindors were well known for their resolute hate for all things Slytherin. The thought felt like acid in his mind.
“I'm worried about Umbridge,” she confessed, shaking her head.
“You'll have to explain that one cara .”
He couldn't understand why the new professor might factor into their openness; his housemates made a certain amount of sense, but her?
“We don't trust her and why she is here. I can't risk anything impacting Harry negatively,” she sighed as she leaned forward, resting her head on his chest.
His heart began to race, and he was certain that she would be able to hear it. “And you think that us dating would be negative?”
He had to admit that it hurt to hear, he had never aligned himself with the arseholes in his house, had never done anything to hurt her or her friends or truly anyone. He had even distanced himself from Draco and Pansy because of how they treated Hermione in their fourth year. He'd all but made himself a pariah and she didn't want to be seen with him.
She let out a small groan and brought a hand up to rest on his chest. “It's not that, Blaise, we both know some people wouldn't be pleased. And it would make some of your housemates pay more attention to me in a negative way.”
He sighed, bringing his hand up to cover hers. He knew she was right about that. If the other Slytherins knew, she might actually be a bigger target.
“I see your point,” he admitted reluctantly.
“So if we date–”
“No one can know.” He sighed, bringing her knuckles up to his lips.
“I'm sorry, Blaise. For what it's worth, I would have liked to date you openly. I mean, I would never be ashamed to be with you.” Her fingers laced with his, and he knew instantly that he would gladly be her secret.
“I can live with sneaking around for now if you can, Amore ,” he confessed as he spun her around to look him in the eyes.
“Kiss me like that again and I'm sure I'll manage.” She giggled, and it sounded like music to his ears.
~*~
Patience had been something that Blaise thought he had excelled at. He'd waited and watched for the right time to make Hermione his. But as the weeks passed by and all he had of her were fleeting moments, he realized that he was not, in fact, a patient man.
He tried to be understanding, focusing on how accurate she had been about Umbridge and the other Slytherins. He knew that if any of them had known that she was his, because she was, in fact, his , that they would have used her. But knowing that didn't make the longing any easier to handle.
Finding moments to be alone only seemed to get harder as the weeks went by until one afternoon she pulled him along the seventh-floor corridor and dragged him into what he would later learn was the Room of Requirement. That day alone had given him enough hope to believe that his patience would be worth it, as she snogged him for all that he was worth. The room had quickly become their typical meeting spot, much to his delight.
Anytime that her friends were at Quidditch practice, she was in his arms, and while it wasn’t perfect, it was enough to help him get by. Any moment that wasn't spent exploring her body, he took joy in her mind. He wasn't going to waste any second that he had his witch in his arms. While he had spent years watching her, getting to know who she was on the outside, he had craved the chance to finally know her.
Umbridge had been a bigger thorn in his side than he'd imagined she would be, with her reign of terror and her bloody squad. But Blaise believed that he had managed to balance time with his witch well, convinced that he had kept her, his little secret. That image had been shattered the night when Theo had woken him up with terror in his normally bright hazel eyes.
“Blaise, you have to get to the infirmary now.” The panic in Theo's voice really should have alerted him, but he'd had such an annoying day, and all he'd wanted to do was sleep.
“What the hell, Theo? It's late, bugger off.” He groaned, trying to turn back over.
“Mate, you need to get up now,” Theo tried again, urgently ripping the blankets off of him.
“What's so bloody important?” He snapped as the cold air hit his bare skin.
“It's Hermione.” The second that the words left Theo's lips, Blaise was up and getting dressed.
Theo had stuttered out a hurried explanation as they made their way up to the hospital wing. He confessed that not only had both he and Potter known about Blaise’s relationship with Hermione, but he and Theo had been hiding one of their own. He gave him a quick rundown of what had happened that night and as they approached the giant double doors, Theo stopped him, grasping his wrist hard.
“It's not good, Blaise, just — be prepared.”
But no amount of warning could prepare him for the sight of her small frame, deathly pale in the center of the bed. As he stepped closer to her, it was the smell of iron that overwhelmed him. He noticed the dried blood in her curls and tried not to think about how it got there. She let out a muted whimper as he sat at the edge of her bed, and it shattered him. He knew she was in pain, her brow furrowing and fingers clenching even in sleep.
Theo told him that she had been cursed, that Potter thought that they'd lost her. And he could see why, her skin was too pale, too lifeless, she had lost too much blood. Everything in him told him not to look, that he would regret it, but he couldn't resist; he needed to know what had happened. The moment he pulled back the sheet, though, to reveal the large mauve mark bisecting her torso, he felt the bile rise in his throat.
He covered her quickly and rushed to be sick in the bin, holding it to his chest until he had nothing left. He sat by her side holding her hand for hours, distraught, realizing that he'd almost lost her before he'd ever truly had her.
He sat silently until Madam Pomfrey ushered him out just before dawn.
~*~
Madam Pomfrey had rather unfortunate timing as it turned out for Harry, who was approaching as he exited. Blaise knew the moment that the git realized he was in trouble, as his green eyes went wide and his step halted. There was only a moment, a second between breaths, before Blaise was on him. Slamming him up against the castle wall.
“What the fuck do you think you're doing here Potter?” He knew that his grip on the boy's robes was too tight, but he couldn't care as his heart continued racing, the rage building under the surface.
“I needed to see her,” Harry groaned as he tried in vain to pull out of Blaise's grasp.
Blaise, in turn, slammed him back against the wall once more, his quite larger frame pinning him.
“She almost died because of you,” he hissed, and he saw the flash of guilt on Potter’s face.
“I know.”
“And you think you have the right to see her after that?” He knew that she wouldn't like what Blaise was doing as he gripped the boy harder.
But it didn't matter because Blaise almost lost her, and it was all her best friend's fault. Theo had rushed the explanation, but Blaise had gotten the picture. And he knew that there was no way that his witch would have gone without at least trying to be the voice of reason. Which meant that Harry bloody Potter had ignored her.
“She's my best friend.”
“And she almost bled out for it.” Blaise could see by the hurt in Potter’s eyes that his words had cut and he found that he was glad.
“That's–”
“The truth. You led her into a battle she could never win.” Blaise hoped that Potter’s guilt haunted him, that he never knew a moment of peace for what he had done.
“You don't know what you're talking about,” Potter tried to defend himself, but it only enraged Blaise more.
“Of course I do, just because my family is grey doesn't mean I'm not aware of the writing on the wall, Potter.”
Anyone who had eyes or ears would know what was coming, what the ministry had been trying to bury all year. There would be a war, and there would be deaths, and somehow, he knew that Harry Potter would find himself smack dab in the middle of it. Which meant so would his witch.
“You don't get to judge us,” The boy growled as he tried yet again to pull himself free.
Blaise leaned in close as he glared into his eyes. “I’ll absolutely be judging you. They will keep following where you lead. And I'm telling you right now, Potter, if my girlfriend dies because of you.” Harry recoiled at his words as Blaise continued, “I promise you that you will wish that it was Voldemort who'd gotten ahold of you.”
“And how would Mi feel about you threatening me?” At that, Blaise actually laughed, and the sound was ominous, even to his own ears.
“It will only be a threat if she is no longer around to care, then it's a promise.” Harry stood dumbstruck as Blaise turned to walk away.
He didn't sleep when he returned to his bed, his mind too busy thinking of ways that he could protect his witch going forward.
Once Hermione had been released from the hospital wing, Blaise had begun the groundwork necessary to make sure that he would be able to keep a better eye on her while she healed. He had written to his mother asking if Hermione could join them for the summer. At first, she hadn't been keen, but after he had been honest and explained, she had readily agreed. It had unfortunately taken quite a bit of convincing before Blaise was finally able to get Hermione to agree to join him and his mother at their vineyard in Italy.
Once he had, his mother had been shocked at how easily convinced her parents had been to send their teenage daughter off to another country. That was until the night that she had opened up to them about what her home life had been like. That had been all it took for Adriana to decide that Hermione was hers .
For five amazing weeks, Blaise had the perfect life. He couldn't remember a time when he had ever seen Hermione or his mother so happy. It had been no secret that his mother had always wanted a daughter, and so seeing her get to live that dream with Hermione had meant everything to him.
On their final night away, as Hermione rested peacefully on his chest,he felt a sense of dread.
“I can hear you thinking,” she sighed as she ran her delicate fingers along his sternum.
“Did I wake you?” he hummed.
“I don't believe so.” She paused her movements as she turned to look at him. “What are you thinking about?”
What a question, he thought as he began to trace circles on her back.
“That I wish we didn't have to go back, that I could just keep you here with mother.” It had been one of the only thoughts that relaxed him for weeks.
He was by their side now, safe and away from any danger back home. And he wanted nothing more than for it to stay that way; they were safe in Italy, and the two of them could even transfer schools if that was necessary.
“You're scared?” Her words were hesitant, and he could tell that she was feeling guilty for worrying him.
“You end up in danger every single year, amore , can you blame me?” He sighed as he picked up her hand and kissed her palm.
It was silent for a moment before she whispered into his chest. “I suppose not.”
“I’m afraid that something will happen and that this time I'll lose you.” He confessed, even though he hated to put the thought into words.
“You won't lose me.” He could hear the sadness in her voice, and they both knew her words were hollow.
With that, he flipped her onto her back in one fluid motion and traced her still-inflamed-looking scar with his fingertip.
“You nearly died, and seeing you like that nearly destroyed me. And that was before you were this . How am I meant to live without you after I know what life with you is like?”
He leaned in and kissed the widest section of the scar between her breasts. Over their time together at the vineyard, he had kissed and praised every inch of her body, as he cataloged every mark and scar. He had learned that while this had been her biggest scar, it certainly hadn't been the only one she'd gotten while chasing after Potter.
“You won't have to,” she whispered as she brought her hand up to cup his cheek.
“You can't promise me that,” he whined as he continued to kiss along her scar until he reached her hip.
“None of us can. No one is guaranteed a tomorrow. You know that.” It didn't matter that she was right, of course, because while anything could happen, this was about her choosing to run into danger.
“I don't know what I'd do without you, amore.” He kissed her gently, reverently.
“I hope that we never have to find out. I love you, Blaise Zabini,” she whispered against his lips as he pulled away.
He laid back down and returned her to her position on his chest. “I know, and you know that my heart, my entire being belongs to you.”
“You are mine.” He could feel her smile against his skin.
“And I am yours, always.” And he meant it, he would love her until the end of time.