Summary: A One Shot about the gender of Blaise Zabini. The question everyone is dying to know the answer to. Is he a he, or is she a she?

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K., except the plot.


Her hair was black, shiny and straight, and hung to her shoulders. Her eyes were turquoise. She had a slight frame, and she was flat chested. Sometimes she wore a skirt to classes and sometimes she wore pants. When she wore a skirt, her legs were pretty shapely, and she looked as if she were a girl. When she wore pants, she tied her hair in a low ponytail, and looked as if she were a boy.

No one asked her out because no one was sure what gender she was. Some people argued that SHE had to be a girl because she wore skirts for goodness sake, and what guy would wear skirts to class? Then, others argued that HE slept in the Slytherin boys' dormitories, and no girl had her own bed in the Slytherin boys' dormitories.

Some students were rather upset about the whole situation, even though it was really none of their business. Blaise didn't have any close friends, so there were no insiders to tell all.

Eventually, fifth year rolled over, and still no one knew what gender Blaise was. Most people just passed it off as unimportant. But some people couldn't. One person in particular was Hermione Granger. This seemed to bother her more than anyone.

"Why don't you just ask him – er – her, then?" Harry asked her, one day on the way to Potions Class.

"Because," she had replied irritably, "that would be rude!"

Ron sighed. "Does it matter, really?"

"Yes it does, Ron!" Hermione snapped. "Honestly, it's very frustrating not knowing whether to call IT a her or a him!"

"It's ruder calling him an IT," Harry pointed out. Hermione glared at him, then hummphed, and entered the classroom.

"Oh, great!" Hermione exclaimed. "She's a girl, today!"

"Shhh!" Ron said, twisting around to see if Blaise had heard them. She didn't appear to. She was too busy smiling at the beginnings of a joke Malfoy was telling. Ron took an extra long look to glare at Malfoy, and admire Blaise's perfect legs.

"Ron, ewww! That's gross! Stop it!" Hermione shrieked. "What if she's really a boy?"

"Then she's a gorgeous boy," Ron said, shrugging. Harry laughed as Hermione turned purple.

"That's gross, Ron," Hermione said, throwing him a disgusted look.

"Is it really that big of a deal?" Harry asked, quietly. His face was slightly red as if he were embarrassed by his best friends' interest in all of this.

"Yes," Hermione said, firmly. "It is."

Class started then, ending their conversation.

After class was over, Hermione told Harry and Ron to go ahead to the common room without her. It was almost time for dinner, but Hermione saw this as her opportunity. During class, she had seen Blaise fidget and figured the girl (or the boy) had to go the bathroom. So when Blaise left the classroom, Hermione followed her at a distance. The girl – boy – (whatever) didn't seem to realize that she was being followed at all.

Hermione, however, kept track of where she was going, and started to get excited because she knew that the girls' and boys' toilets on this floor were coming up pretty soon. She rounded a corner, and ran smack into Blaise, her – him – self.

"Oh, erm, hi!" Hermione said, sheepishly.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. Come to think of it, Hermione had ever heard him – her – talk, either . . . Did teachers ever ask Blaise questions in class? Not that Hermione knew of.

Blaise coughed. It was a, "Hello, I'm still here," cough.

Hermione blushed. "Oh, uh, sorry! I wasn't following you or anything . . . I just, erm, wanted to know where the toilets were." It was a flimsy excuse, and Blaise knew it, from the piercing look she gave Hermione.

Blaise didn't say anything, just turned around, and continued walking the way she was walking. Hermione followed her, not knowing what else to do. Blaise suddenly stopped, causing Hermione to run into her again. Blaise pointed towards a sign that said, "Girls," above it. Hermione blushed again, knowing that she really didn't want to use the toilets.

Blaise rolled her eyes as Hermione continued to stand there, then she turned and walked away.

"Hey, wait!" Hermione called out.

Blaise stopped and turned around, sighing.

"Don't you have to use the toilets, too?" Hermione insisted. She stared at the other girl – er – boy, hoping against hope that Blaise would pick a bathroom.

However . . . Blaise just stared at her. Then, slowly, ever so slowly . . . her mouth curved upwards into a smile. And she walked away, leaving Hermione standing there.


"She did that on purpose!" Hermione said, hotly at dinner as she bit into her steak. "It's not funny, Ron!"

Ron had laughed so hard when Hermione told him of the "bathroom incident" that he was practically choking on his food. Hermione just glared at him, then she switched her gaze to Harry, who was, strangely, remaining quiet about all of this.

"Don't you find it weird that she never talks?" Hermione demanded.

"Maybe he's shy," Harry suggested, as he absentmindedly tried to cut up mashed potatoes with a knife and fork.

Hermione stared at him. "Are you alright, Harry?"

"Maybe I'm not hungry," he said, looking down at his food.

Ron just laughed again, infuriating her. "And maybe you're paranoid, Hermione."

Hermione scowled at him. "I don't care what you say, Ron Weasley. There is something not quite right about that girl – boy – whatever, and I intend to find out what."


Hermione went up to bed that night, her head full of thoughts and new ideas. There had to be a way to find out what gender Blaise was without coming right out and asking him. He was sure to be insulted if Hermione guessed the wrong gender. Or, SHE was sure to be insulted.

Hermione sighed. Maybe there was a spell or something that would help her figure all of this out. She thought back to the Triwizard tournament held last year in their school. There had been a way to determine the ages of people, so maybe there was a way to determine their gender, too.

The next day, Saturday, she spent the entire day in the library, but found nothing on the subject. She asked Madam Pince for books on the subject, and the librarian had given her an odd look. When Hermione had tried to explain her situation without bringing Blaise's name up, the librarian had told her, "Don't worry about it. We all go through an identity crisis sometimes."

Mortified, Hermione had gone to sit on the far side of the library, trying to ignore the knowing looks the librarian kept throwing at her.

She had been working for a few good hours and was just on the verge of taking a break when she spotted Ron come into the library. She waved him over and he smiled at her.

"Hey, Hermione!" he said, yawning widely.

"Did you just wake up?" Hermione said, her eyes widening. He nodded. "Ron! It's almost lunch time."

"It's not like it's a Hogsmeade weekend, Hermione! It isn't a crime to sleep in, you know," Ron argued.

"Hm," Hermione said, narrowing her eyes. "It's laziness."

"Anyway," Ron said loudly, obviously trying to change the subject. "Have you seen Harry?"

"No," Hermione answered, hiding a smile.


"Maybe he woke up a few minutes before you and went to lunch," Hermione suggested. "He barely ate any dinner last night, remember?"

"Yeah, probably," Ron said, nodding. "I'm going there, now. You coming?"

"Sure, let me just – " Hermione suddenly stopped. Blaise Zabini was making her (HIS today) way into the library.

"– catch up with you," Hermione finished. Ron gave her a weird look. "Unless, you'd like to help me put away all of these books?" she asked, sweetly.

Ron paled. Hermione had two tables full of books. "Ah . . . I think I'll just go find Harry," he said, quickly. "He's probably looking for me, anyways! Yeah. Bye!"

Hermione grinned. If anything, the idea of work would get Ron to vacate the area. She cleaned up slowly, keeping her eye on Blaise.

He was dressed rather nicely today. He had his hair pulled back into a low ponytail, and he wore black pants and a loose fitting black shirt. All the black made his turquoise eyes stand out.

He picked a table near the doors, but sat so that he was facing her. However, the single book that he took from the shelf covered his face, so Hermione couldn't read his expression.

She sighed, feeling frustrated. You'd think someone would care if people tended to wonder about their gender. But then, Blaise wasn't just "someone."

'Yes,' Hermione thought. 'He definitely does all of this on purpose. In fact, that's probably the reason that he/she never talks, or even laughs. His voice is a dead giveaway, I'll bet!'

Hermione grinned inwardly. It was simple when she really thought about it. All she had to do was get Blaise Zabini to talk, and she'd know! Only, it had to be an accident, because after that whole bathroom display yesterday (Hermione's face burned in embarrassment) there was probably no way that Blaise would tell her willingly.

'Now, how do I get him to talk?' Hermione thought, ignoring her rumbling stomach. She stared at Blaise hard, narrowing her eyes. 'I suppose I could always ask him a question that isn't a yes/no question. I could start a conversation.'

Blaise suddenly put his book down and looked at his watch. Then, ever so slowly, as if he knew he was being watched, he stood up and put the book in the exact same place where he got it from, then he stretched and turned back towards Hermione.

Hermione was staring openly now. His gaze traveled up the aisle of tables to her face, and lingered there for a moment. Then, the strangest thing happened. It seemed as if the next thing happened in slow motion . . .

Blaise leaned down, his eyes still on Hermione. He picked up his bag, and stood back up, so, so slowly. He raised his palm to his lips, kissed it, and blew air off of his palm towards her.

Hermione's eyes widened. Her face was bright red, and she couldn't move, so she just sat there and watched him walk out of the library. As soon as he was gone, she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Why that - ! He's, she's, he's . . .playing with me!" Hermione took a deep breath. She was suddenly more than ever filled with fire, the desire to find out exactly WHAT Blaise Zabini was.

"That's okay, Slytherin," Hermione said in a low voice. Her expression turned into a smirk. "I may be a lowly Gryffindor to you, but I like to play games, too."


Hermione watched Blaise across the hall, oblivious to her best friends' chatter. One thing she did notice was that Harry seemed to have regained his appetite today, and he was shoveling new food into his mouth before he had completely finished off the old food already in his mouth. It was quite nauseating to watch, really.

"So, Harry, foo you uhnt to fway Krittich . . . (swallow) . . . when we're done?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, pausing to answer him. "Just for a while, though. Then, I have to get back in. I have . . . um . . . an essay to write." He blushed, and stared down into his food.

"Really? What class?" Hermione said, snapping out of her reverie.

"Herbology," Harry said, turning even redder.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Ron said, after swallowing his food this time. "You look like you're out of air. Was there something in your food?"

"I'm fine," Harry said, shortly. "Maybe . . . Maybe I shouldn't play Quidditch today. Looks like it might rain." He didn't even glance up at the ceiling as he said this, but Hermione and Ron both did. The sky was as blue as . . . Blaise's eyes.

"No, it doesn – " Ron started to say, but stopped.

Hermione looked down from the ceiling to him, wondering if he had gotten choked or anything. Then, she noticed that Harry was no longer sitting at the table. She looked up just in time to see him disappear from the Great Hall.

Ron looked as her, his expression proving him to be just as dumbfounded as Hermione felt.


"Oh, this is ridiculous!" Hermione said, collapsing in front of the common room fire. She had gone over many books about turning into the opposite gender, but none that had exactly what she was looking for.

"Hi, Hermione!" Ginny said, popping up out of nowhere.

"Hello, Ginny," Hermione said, exasperatedly. "How are you?"

"Fine," Ginny replied. "You don't look so good, though. What's the matter?"

"I'm . . .uh," she suddenly blushed, realizing exactly what she had been doing. "It's stupid, really," she said, laughing nervously. "What I'm doing."

Ginny frowned. "Whatever it is, you're working awfully hard on it. What ARE you doing, by the way?"

"She's trying to find out whether Blaise is a boy or a girl," Ron said, also popping up out of nowhere.

Hermione jumped. "Don't do that!" she snapped.

"Do what?" Fred said suddenly, jumping up from the back of the couch.

"This!" George said, appearing behind the other couch.

Hermione sighed. "Yes, that." The twins laughed.

"Why do you care about Blaise?" Fred said.

"Yeah, he's just a stupid Slytherin," George agreed.

"He's a hot, stupid Slytherin, though," Ginny said, thoughtfully.

"That's sick, Ginny! What if he's really a she?" Hermione pointed out.

"Then, SHE is still a very hot, though stupid, Slytherin," Ginny said, shrugging. Ron laughed, and Hermione glared at him.

"You are not helping the situation, Ronald!" Hermione cried. At this, Ron just laughed harder.

"Hermione, if you want to know so badly, why don't you just go ask her, or him?" George interrupted.

"Oh, yes, that'd be a lovely conversation, wouldn't it? Say Blaise, I know you like to dress up and everything, but what gender are you REALLY?" Hermione said, sarcastically.

All of the Weasleys laughed at that, except Ginny.

"If it's that big of a deal, I'll ask for you," she offered.

Hermione shook her head. "No, he'll know you're asking for me. And besides, he might not even answer you. When's the last time you've heard him talk?"

"Good point," Fred said, grinning. "So how do you propose to find out?"

"It's a shame she doesn't play Quidditch," George said, thoughtfully. "Then, we could just go in the showers and have a peek."

Hermione winced. "That's gross."

"But, it would solve the problem, wouldn't it?" George remarked.

"In more ways than one," Ron said, stifling another giggle.

"Shut up!" George said, blushing. He shoved Ron to the ground in an annoyed, but playful, manner.

Fred shook his head. "Forgive me, Hermione. My dear brothers appear to be having problems of the mental sort to sort out. I suppose I should help them." Having said that, he joined the pile of wriggling limbs on the floor.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione. Maybe there's an important reason no one knows," Ginny said, watching as her brothers wrestled on the floor in front of them. "She, or he, might not want anyone to know."

"That's silly! How could someone go through life like that?" Hermione wailed.

Ginny shrugged. "Don't ask me. I don't know what goes through Blaise's head."

'But I WANT to know!' Hermione thought, watching as Ginny shook her head at her brothers and walked away, muttering something about being the youngest, yet the most mature.


Late Sunday evening, Hermione was rounding the corner from the library, going towards the Gryffindor common room, when she bumped into someone coming from the other direction, knocking both of them down to the floor.

Blaise . . .

Hermione stared. He was a boy again today. And boy, was he ever a NICE looking boy! Hermione blushed.

"I'm sorry," she said, quickly. He gave her an annoyed look, while pushing himself up off of the floor. Hermione just sat there, staring up at him, and wondering what was the best way to start a conversation, when he rolled his eyes, and held out a hand.

Hermione grasped it without thinking, and in one swift motion, he pulled her up. She stumbled, falling towards his chest, but he held her up, easily. He was . . . strong. And she was very, very close . . .

Hermione pulled away, never breaking eye contact. Blaise blinked slowly, smiled thinly, then turned and started off down the hallway.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Hermione called. She mentally cursed herself. How come she was never able to think of anything to say until he (she?) was walking away?

Blaise stopped, and turned around.

"Thank you . . ." Hermione said, trailing off. She was waiting for a, "You're welcome," but was not surprised when Blaise merely gave her a two- fingered salute, then turned and walked off.

As soon as he was out of sight, Hermione stomped her foot in frustration. "Why!?" she demanded of herself. "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?"

"Don't ask me," a nearby portrait of a girl said, shrugging. "He's cute! Is he your boyfriend?"

Hermione let out a short sound of frustration, and just barely restrained herself from banging her balled fist into the portrait. "HE'S a GIRL!" she growled, earning herself a frightened look from the girl, before she stalked off down the hallway towards the common room.


Hermione woke up early the next morning, ready to put her newest plan into action. She would make Blaise talk, and since the girl (or boy, whichever) obviously wanted to play dirty, Hermione was ready for him.

She didn't bother waiting for Harry or Ron that morning. She headed to the Great Hall early, and grinned as she realized that Blaise was already there, as Hermione thought she might be. Hermione frowned. Blaise was a girl again, today. For some reason, Hermione felt vaguely disappointed.

She shrugged off the feeling, and worked her determination back up. As soon as she had gathered her Gryffindor courage, she headed over towards the Slytherin table and pulled out a chair directly across from Blaise.

The girl stopped eating, looked up and stared at Hermione.

"Is it alright for me to sit here?" Hermione asked, unwaveringly. Blaise just continued to stare at her for a few moments. Then, much to Hermione's surprise, she shook her head, and went back to eating.

Hermione stood there, unsure of what to do next. She hadn't counted on Blaise saying no. That was NOT part of the plan. "Well . . ." Hermione started. She had NOT come over here to be rejected. She had come over to start a conversation. And that's exactly what she was going to do.

Pulling the chair out even farther, she sat down anyway. Blaise looked up at her, eyebrows raised. Hermione glared across the table. "I'm not leaving until you give me a good reason to. There's no rule that says I can't sit here."

Blaise narrowed her eyes. She didn't smile. She wasn't amused in the least. Hermione watched as the girl proceeded to ignore her, eating her breakfast again. When she finished, (and she finished pretty fast), she stood up and left, not seeming to care that Hermione was right on her heels.

Hermione followed her, thinking she was going to go back to her common room or something, but she wasn't. She was heading . . . wait. Towards Gryffindor tower?

Blaise stopped in front of the portrait of the fat lady, and leaned against the wall, facing the portrait. Hermione just stood there dumbly, and watched her in fascination. She appeared to be waiting for something, or rather . . . someone.

"Why are we here?" Hermione asked. Blaise gave no answer. "Hello? I'm talking to you," she said, knowing that she was acting childish.

Blaise didn't even glance her way. She appeared to be examining her fingernails, which she kept trimmed. She wasn't wearing any nail polish, either.

"You know this corridor is off-limits to non-Gryffindors, don't you?" Hermione lied.

Blaise gave her a look that basically said, "Nice try."

The portrait suddenly swung open revealing Harry. Ron wasn't with him. "Blaise . . ." he said, nodding. Hermione blinked. He was talking to her so . . . casually. As if he knew her . . . really knew her.

Hermione decided it was time to make her presence known. "Harry," she said.

Harry jumped, and then paled at the sight of her. "Her-Hermione!" he gasped. "Um, hi! What are you - ?" He glanced at Blaise, then back at Hermione.

Hermione glanced at Blaise, too. Blaise did that whole two-fingered salute thing, and walked off, as if she knew Harry was coming out next, and she was passing Hermione off to him. It was like she was treating Hermione as a child that needed to be babysat.

Hermione felt her blood boil. "Harry, what is going on?"

"Wh-what are you talking about, Hermione?" he stammered, his face turning red. He glanced back toward where Blaise had been a second ago. He (she) was out of sight now.

"I'm not stupid, Harry. I DID just witness that whole little greeting thing you just did," Hermione said. "You know her, don't you? I mean you REALLY know her?" Hermione suddenly gasped as an idea occurred to her. "Harry! You're not going out with her, are you?"

Harry's face turned bright red. "What? No! Hermione, no! I see him around, just like you do!"

Hermione eyed him, suspiciously. "Are you sure? Because you two sure looked buddy-buddy to me right then."

Harry sighed. "I'm sure, Hermione. I'm not going out with Blaise." He laughed. "I don't even know if he's a girl or a boy, why would I go out with him?"

Hermione sighed. "I don't know, Harry. I just don't know. There's just something about him . . . her . . . that confuses me. And things that confuse me tend to annoy me. I don't like being confused."

"I know, and that's just you, Hermione. It's the way you are," Harry said. "Maybe THAT'S just the way Blaise is."

"What? Confusing?"

"Yes," Harry said, firmly. "Just, don't worry about it, okay? If he wants to be a girl today and a boy tomorrow, then what's it to us? Just let him. He's not hurting you by doing it, is he? Blaise is just . . . Blaise. Like Ron said, does it matter, really?"

Hermione shook her head, as Harry suggested that they go back inside the common room to wait for Ron. If he hadn't confused her so much right then, she might have wondered what he had come out for in the first place.


By the time transfiguration came along, Hermione found that no matter what anyone had said to her, she still had this longing inside of her to hear Blaise speak to discover if he were a girl or a boy.

"Today, we'll be transfiguring your chairs into . . ."

For once, Hermione didn't listen at all, so when it came to doing the lesson, Hermione had no idea what was going on. It was the same way in all of the rest of her classes as well. In Charms later, Professor Flitwick suggested that she go to the Hospital Wing and lay down for a while because she was "obviously tired out from something," if she couldn't even summon a rubric towards her. Needless to say, he looked very worried that his star student was having trouble with the simplest of charms.

By the time Potions came along, Hermione was ready to throw something. It was not a good mood to be in for a class with Professor to Snape.

Their potions were supposed to be dark turquoise color, and it only served to remind Hermione of Blaise's eyes glaring at her this morning. Hermione gripped her cauldron a little tighter than necessary.

"Hermione, could you go get the Niffler fur, please? For all three of us?"

Hermione nodded, not paying Harry and Ron the slightest attention. Still gripping her cauldron, she made her way across the room. Almost as if were in a dream, Blaise crossed in front of her, and Hermione saw the perfect opportunity . . .

"Professor! Professor Snape! Oooh! Look what Hermione did!" Pansy shrieked.

Blaise and Hermione were both in shock, only Blaise was covered in dark purple smoking welts, and Hermione was holding the almost empty, now, cauldron.

"Parkinson, escort Zabini to the hospital wing, now!" Snape snapped. "As for you, Granger . . ." Hermione cowered under the Professor's stare. He had never looked this scary before . . .

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you'd done that on purpose," Snape hissed.

"You can't know that, Professor!" Harry interrupted.

Snape turned on him, an expression of deep hatred on his face. "Oh, really, Mr. Potter? Then, how is it that Zabini is covered in purple liquid, yet Granger appears to have not a drop on her? Explain that! I'd say that that cauldron would have had to been poured very, very carefully."

"Professor - !" Harry protested.

"Stop it, Harry. He's right," Hermione said, quietly. Yet, everyone in the classroom heard her. "I did it on purpose."

Every single student's mouth dropped open, except Draco's. He just smirked. "I TOLD you Gryffindor's had PROBLEMS. Ha! And SHE'S supposed to be the smartest in their year? Can you say mental issues?"

"A hundred and fifty points from Gryffindor for deliberate harm to a student, Ms. Granger, and detention tomorrow night in Mr. Filch's office," Snape's eyes glittered maliciously. "Now, back to work, everyone, except you Ms. Granger. You start cleaning up. You'll receive zero marks today."


The following night, Hermione found herself cleaning all of the windows in the Great Hall. She sighed. Luckily, she had finished all of her homework earlier. She would be up all night with this job.

She suddenly heard a clapping sound bouncing off of the walls. She spun around, searching for the source of the sound.

Blaise. And she was a boy again.

Hermione froze. What was HE doing here?

Blaise came closer, his face as stony as a wall. Yet, he was still clapping. It was a bit demonic-looking. Hermione found herself shivering.

Blaise continued to walk towards her, until he was face to face. Hermione found herself backed up against the window she was supposed to be washing.

Blaise opened his mouth. "If you wanted to hear me talk," he said, in a soft voice, "all you had to do was ask."

Hermione couldn't breathe. He was way too close for his own good. If he was even a HE.

"Some people don't talk for a reason," he said, leaning in even closer to her. His hands were against the wall, on either side of her. His eyes were centimeters away from hers. His lips were even closer, but his nose was touching hers.

He wasn't smiling. His face ran along her face until it stopped at her lips. Hermione's breathing hitched. She had been breathing just fine, until he had done that. His expression was as serious as ever. His gaze flicked back up to hers, then he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers gently. Hermione closed her eyes.

It wasn't really a kiss because she didn't respond to it. And he didn't push it. He just pressed his lips against hers and stayed there for what seemed like an eternity.

Hermione didn't open her eyes until he had moved away. Far away. When she opened them again, he was well on his way towards the doors.

Without turning around, he suddenly said, "Maybe when I'm around you . . . Hermione . . . I don't have anything to say."

Hermione stared after him until he disappeared. Then she realized something. His voice gave nothing away. That could very well have still been a girl who had just kissed her.

Impulsively, she ran between the long table, and up the aisle towards the big doors. She leaned out, looking around frantically. He was about to disappear around a corner.

"Wait!" she shouted.

Blaise stopped.

"Are you a girl or a boy?" Hermione asked, panting. She stared at him.

Blaise put a finger to his lips. "Hmm. Well, that's a rude question, now isn't it?"

Hermione stared.

Blaise grinned. "People need genders to identify themselves, don't they? I already know who I am, so . . . does it matter, really?" Without waiting for Hermione to answer, Blaise disappeared around the corner. Hermione didn't even say, "wait," this time. She knew without asking that Blaise wouldn't stop.

Maybe Harry was right. Maybe Blaise was just . . . Blaise.

'But then again,' Hermione thought, 'Harry always calls Blaise "he."'


A/N: omg, it's 3:14 AM, and I need to get my butt in the bed. I'm so tired. I'm amazed that I finished typing this, but I had to. You know how there's a story sometimes that you absolutely cannot stop until you are finished with it? This is only the second time that this has happened to me that I can remember. Heehee, fumbling fingers. Don't mind me. I'm very tired.

And yes, for all of you wondering, I do know what gender Blaise really is! I just thought it would be fun to write this little ficlet! So don't worry! Be happy!

And please review! THANK YOU!

Ariana S.