Princess

AN: I haven't bothered to re-read it yet so it might be a bit dodgy toward the end. Also it's un-beta-ed just because so if anyone finds any mistakes please notify me.

I wrote this just out of the blue because I could always picture Blaise calling Hermione "Princess". Not in a loving, pet-name kinda way but in a more patronizing fashion.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't know own anything related to the Harry Potter world at all! I swear!

Princess

The yellow folder landed on the desk with a small thud, unsettling the dust that had accumulated on the surface, a death sentence for the unfortunate sod that'd gone and pissed off the wrong people.

"I want it done by Friday" spoke the voice of a man, hidden by shadows but the occasional silver gleam of his hair. It was Wednesday, late Wednesday. But He never was a very patient man.

The other man nodded, knowing the man who spoke could see him through the rigid black shadows. The darkness was one-sided, like those muggle mirrors that were actually windows on the other side. Behind that desk it was as light as day.

He glanced down at the folder, able to make out the name with the minimal light in the room. Granger. He'd been wondering when her turn would come. It was only a matter of time.

Her name brought back memories, it always did. He'd learnt to suppress them after a while; most of the time anyway.

Sliding the door open he strode into the cabin. He wasn't surprised in the least to see her there. Who else would've made Head Girl with that know-it-all to compete with?

She looked up from her book, (Hogwarts: A Historywhat a surprise) eyes narrowing in the typical Gryffindor vs. Slytherin fashion.

"Zabini" she said, not really a greeting but more a statement of his presence (just in case he hadn't noticed he was there).

"I suppose you're Head Boy then?" the girl continued.

"No, I'm just here 'cause I thought there'd be food" he replied, smirking the trademark Slytherin smirk.

She laughed dryly, looking to the heavens in that infuriating holier-than-thou eye roll. He sat down across from her, tall frame stretching elegantly across the seat. She studied him from across the compartment, book lying forgotten on her lap. After a few moments she spoke.

"Well, I suppose it could be worse. It could've been Malfoy"

He laughed, sitting up and leaning towards her, so close their noses were almost touching. "Princess, by graduation you'll be wishing it was Malfoy".

"She'll cost more than usual" He told the other man. He always charged more for people he once knew.

"Of course" said the silver haired man, clicking his fingers. A bag dropped onto the desk beside the folder. The tinkling of metal made the contents obvious.

Blaise lifted the bag, weighing it in his palm. It was more than he'd expected, not that he was complaining, the bloke had more than enough money.

"Excellent" he said, pocketing the gold but leaving the folder. He knew everything he needed to.

The next morning found him in an alleyway near the ministry, waiting for her to rush past. There was no one around as the working day had already started. But she'd be late, he made sure of it.

Five minutes later she ran, or should I say hopped, past him, one shoe already on, trying to put on the other, her hair a giant mass of chocolate curls.

She didn't even notice him leaning against the brick wall of the alley, arms crossed, wand twirling in his left had, though that may have had something to do with the disillusionment charm he'd cast on himself…

"Why so hurried Princess?"

She froze mid-step, back rigid, eyes wide. Only one person ever called her Princess.

They stood in their common room several meters apart, fighting again, because that was all they ever did really. He didn't really know what they were fighting about and he didn't think she did either. He did know, however, that he loved to get her fired up.

"I can't believe you! If Harry hears about this -

He cut her off. He was so sick of hearing about Harry fucking Potter. "Poor Princess can't handle the big bad Slytherin on her own, better go get her precious fucking Potter to save her"

She looked absolutely furious. She opened her mouth to retort then soon closed it again. A puzzled expression appeared across her features, her gaze dropping to the floor as if the carpet held the answers.

He stood there for a moment, waiting for her to realize he was still there.

And another moment.

And another.

Blaise was irritated; he did not like being ignored.

"Granger what the hell are you doing?"

Her head snapped up, her expression of puzzlement increasing as she looked at him.

She bit her lip. "Why do you call me Princess?"

He stared at her. Where the hell did that come from? Suddenly he smirked.

"Because that's what you are. Gryffindor's perfect little princess, the spoilt little bitch who gets whatever she wants"

Her fury returned in an instant and she wasted no time unleashing it upon the arrogant prat before her. "I'm spoilt? I'm spoilt?! What about you Mr. I'm-so-rich-I-could-fit-your-house-in-my-broom-closet!"

She sounded mildly hysterical and looked it too, hands waving all over the place, hair flying out all around her. The sight of her would have scared the wits out of any other man, any sane man, but not him, he was just as furious as she was.

"It's not about money you stupid witch! Don't you see? Everyone practically worships you. Potter and Weasley would do anything for you and would be utterly lost if you weren't there to look after them. I'm sure your parents think you're the greatest thing that's ever happened. The teachers all love you 'cause you're 'the smartest witch to ever grace the fucking planet!'. They all love you, it's fucking pathetic!"

He stood in front of her, with no recollection of crossing the room, breathing heavily having not thought to breathe much during his rant.

She glared up at him "are you quite done?"

He looked down at her once before storming away to his room, slamming the door behind him.

The shoe she was holding clattered to the ground as she reached for her wand, finally regaining the ability to move. She turned to look at him.

He was leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, knee bent as if it wasn't the first time they'd seen each other after a particularly nasty falling out ten years ago.

"Why are you here Zabini?" Hermione demanded, her voice not wavering in the slightest, wand pointed straight at him in an unshaking hand.

A cruel smile graced his lips as he pushed himself off the wall. "Now Princess, I'm quite sure you know the answer to that"

She did, she was just hoping she was wrong. "I never thought you'd end up serving Malfoy Blaise. You always told me you were two were so different from one another, that you didn't agree with him" she sneered, an unattractive look for such a pretty face.

"I don't serve him. I don't serve anyone" he spat, annoyed that she was the only one who could make him this angry.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night"

She was mocking him and he snapped, just like he always had around her. Before she even realized he was moving he had her pinned against the wall. Her wand clattered to the ground and rolled away from them.

Her eyes widened and she could no longer hide her terror.

"You gonna kill me Zabini?" she choked, her eyes darting from his wand (which was pressed into the side of her head) to his deep blue eyes.

He smirked. "No wonder they called you the smarted witch of the age. See you in hell Princess"

Green light filled the alley and by the time it dissipated he was gone. All that was left was the body of Hermione Granger, her wand and a sensible black work shoe.