Blaise Zambini sat down at breakfast, looking forward to the Hogwarts meals. It was the first meal of the year, after all. And even if a proper English Breakfast wasn't his cuppa (he preferred the far lighter Italian bread-and-cheese), Hogwarts' elves were really talented.

As usual, he sat down beside Draco Malfoy. At that instant, he noticed something was wrong. Make that seriously wrong. Draco was staring at the Gryffindor table - not so unusual as all that, really. He had certainly glared at Potter enough in years past. No, this was a different stare, the look of a dying man who sees water just across the brink. The hungry gaze of a zombie, or maybe a vampire, the gaze that would devour whatever it rested upon. In short, Draco Malfoy looked the spitting image of a man in love.

Now, the only question was whom?

Blaise leaned over, not wanting his conversation overheard. Slytherin secrets were made to be kept, after all, unless it was to your enduring advantage to reveal them. "Is it the Weaselette?" he asked quietly, "finally found one of that family you like?"

Draco turned a baleful glare on Blaise. It wasn't a "you're right" glare, nor even a "oh, god no!" glare... it was an icy, abyssal glare that said "leave well enough alone, or you'll regret it."

And, in a flash, Blaise knew. He knew exactly why Malfoy wouldn't, couldn't say a word. The Mudblood.

Blaise fought to keep the wild laughter inside, as he drawled insolently, "You know, most lads would just ask the lady out, instead of staring until your eyeballs fall out." Then again, she's no lady is she -not to mention that Draco's been haranguing her for years now.

Draco sent Blaise a glare that promised a full legion of various tortures, and Blaise knew Draco had the dungeon to back that up.

Oh, but this was hilarious! The Slytherin Sex God (trademarked) had fallen in love, and with the most inappropriate thing! Not that Blaise really cared a whit about blood and all that rot and rubbish. No, Blaise simply saw a weakness and a vulnerability. And Draco knew Blaise knew, and that could turn out either very well, or very bad.

First year, Draco had been rather flattered to be invited to a 6th year Ravenclaw's dorm room. Apparently she had heard that boys lasted longer before they reached... a certain level of maturity. Draco must have done well, because soon, all the Ravenclaws wanted to satisfy their curiosity. And once the Slytherin girls saw him exiting the Ravenclaw dorm, they wanted him too - though Blaise and Draco both well knew that they were more interested in staking a claim. Draco hadn't spent much time with any of the girls, and if one or two of them wound up with a bit of a full tummy, well, the girls were the ones who would get in trouble if they squealed

Second year, Draco had his run through most of the Hufflepuff dorm - all of them seemed to fancy a try at the "poor little misunderstood rich boy." And a few Gryffindors, as well, mostly blasted out of their mind on something the Weasley twins had cooked up, and that everyone ought to have not drunk.

Blaise chuckled quietly at the irony of the boy who could sleep with anyone, having his heart set on the one girl he couldn't touch. And then Blaise did an odd and strange thing. He trod, hard, on Draco's foot, under the table.

Draco glared at Blaise, and said, "What the hell was that for?"

"Stop staring, you're giving us Slytherins a bad name... What ever happened to being subtle?"

Draco responded with a lovelorn sigh.

"Never fear, I have the solution to your problems. You can stop pining - Ahh, there's Nott" Blaise said, keeping a promise not to involve the strictest of the boys in secrets unless absolutely necessary.

"Meet me at the top of the Astronomy Tower, by 7pm"

"We'll watch the sunset together!" Draco said, clapping his hands together in his best Pansy impression. Nott was looking at them oddly, so Blaise sent him a smug grin.

At the Astronomy Tower, Draco appeared, looking more than a bit out of sorts. Oh, not so crass as to look dissolute, but certainly not quite gliding with his customary grace, his impatience giving him a stride more like Snape's. Of course Blaise noticed.

"What is it?" Draco bit out.

"Here" Blaise said, passing him paper and a quill, "write her whatever you want... just keep it anonymous."

"But... what do people generally write on stuff like this?"

"Try a love letter..."

And Draco Malfoy curled up near a pillar, to write.

Granger was eating the next morning, when the owls arrived. Surprisingly, there was a school owl for her. Something about it told her to keep the letter a secret, at least until she was back up in her room. Was it the lack of seal? Was it the superordinariness of the owl? She didn't know, and it bothered her. Nevertheless, she knew much better than to open strange pieces of mail with Harry and Ron about, they were prone to reading it.

Padma, Parvati and Lavender were in her dorm when she came in. "Hermione, what did you get from that owl?" Lavender asked.

Granger responded, "haven't looked yet."

Parvati said with a hungry smile, "let us see, if it's any good that is." And Hermione knew exactly what she meant by "good."

Hermione opened the letter, and skimmed it quickly. "You're going to want to hear this, girls." she said softly, knowing that unlike the boys, they'd hang on her every word.

You sparkle like the stars

Illuminating a room as you stride in

Cutting shadows crisp as night

All I can do is stare-

Through a glass darkly

Your smiles toast the room

even touching the abyssal depths

of my flinty heart.

Your days unfold like pages in a book

As I, your humble scribe,

Record your laughter and your tears,

your grimaces and fleers

I oft wonder, in the warmth of my bed,

if, at the last, you'd see me the way I see you

Alas, I have not the courage nor the cruelty to find out.

Lavender laughed, saying, "He knows you too well! Compared to a boo in your first love letter!"

Padma looked up, looking troubled, "That almost sounds like a death threat"

At that, Hermione paled.