the cat cafe ✞ dramione

four; looking good, kitten.

warning: discussions of drug misuse.

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hermione trudged across the school grounds, cursing herself for not slipping on her coat. ginny has been pestering her about talking to zabini for the last few weeks but since it has never been something she prioritised, she completely forgot about it. now, apparently, zabini has booked the pitch for another week and the gryffindor team were getting pissed as the ever-anticipated slytherin vs gryffindor game was a little under a fortnight away.

she quickly mumbled a warming charm around herself before stowing her wand away. hermione stepped onto the pitch and watched with little interest as the slytherin team performed drills, throwing practice quaffles and the like. zabini floated the closest to the ground so hermione easily shouted his name, gaining his attention. he shouted some instructions to the rest of the team before flying gown to her, ginning widely.

"our favourite head girl," he said, hovering a few feet away. "whatever did i do to have you visit me mid-practice? came to watch us?"

hermione rolled her eyes, pulling her robe closer to her body. "don't flatter yourself, zabini. i'm here on behalf of the gryffindor quidditch team. you're hogging the pitch."

"there isn't a rule against that," he said, shrugging a shoulder. "weaselette should be faster at booking."

"either way, it doesn't show great sportsmanship if you need all this time to practice," hermione retorted, grinning slightly. "one might think you're trying to overcompensate for something."

zabini rolled his eyes. he glanced up at the team before sighing heavily, dropping to his feet. he wiped his face of any sweat before running his hand over his buzz cut. hermione remembered the large afro he supported last year and felt a little sad he cut it off, as it was truly a magnificent thing to behold. "look," he started, pursing his lips seriously. "i won't lie - this team is in bad shape. we barely made it to second place last year after draco dropped out and this time it seems like we'll be no better. these idiots need all the training they can get."

hermione crossed her arms as she waited for zabini to finish. she didn't know where in the hell this explanation was leading to but judging by his tone, he wanted her help for it. she was quite used to hearing it.

"so, if you really want me to stop hogging the pitch, then you'll have to help me convince draco to re-join the team," zabini finally said, turning his dark green eyes onto her. hermione froze in place, eyes growing wide. "otherwise gryffindor will have to suck it up."

"you can't expect me to do that," hermione hissed, shivering slightly. "malfoy doesn't listen to me. i can't even get him to wear his damn robe!"

"then it seems we're at a crossroads. nevermind, then," zabini sighed, shrugging his shoulder again. he mounted his broom. "tell weaselette i've booked next week too."

before he could kick off, hermione stopped him. "fine - fine! i'll try my best, okay? but i can't promise any results."

zabini beamed at her. he dropped his broom and rushed over, shaking her almost a little too roughly from her shoulders. hermione stood, too shocked to even stop the slytherin from his manhandling of her. she didn't think they've ever had any form of physical contact up until now. "granger - honestly - thank you so much."

"let go of me, please," she gritted out.

"right - my apologies," zabini laughed, dropping his hands. "i'm sorry. look, you have no idea how important this is to me. it's not just for the house cup - although i am aiming for it, it's not the reason why i want draco back on the team."