So, here's a new story! I've been reading quite a bit of Harry Potter lately, fanfiction as well, and really wanted to do a comedy! This is pretty much my headcanon of Blaise Zabini as well as what I think each great house is hiding. XD Enjoy! I love writing characters as being slightly outrageous, so I'll be pushing every quality to the extreme. This might come across as being slightly OOC, but no one wants to read about normal people, anyways. XD

(For the purposes of this story, Cedric Diggory is alive, and I'm completely ignoring the existence of Voldemort for the sake of humor.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or Hogwarts houses, or Blaise Zabini. So there.

Warning: This is SLASHY/YAOI! Although I see Blaise as humping everything that moves, I feel the need to warn you.

The corridor was completely silent, Blaise Zabini reflected. Something must be up. No properly tricky Slytherin would let himself be caught unawares! A tap on the floor caught his attention, amber eyes darting to and fro restlessly. Surely it was too soon for Draco's revenge for that enchanted quill? No, never underestimate a Slytherin. That would be suicide.

The stars twinkled as he passed a window, frighteningly similar to the eyes of the Headmaster, a shudder-worthy thought. Blaise observed the school impassively. The prefects would be out, ready to catch students out of bed, but Zabini was too clever for them. He could move as silent as a panther, strike as quickly as a snake, and sleep as soundly as a pand...-but that wasn't the point. He didn't need to highlight his attributes that proved his mastery over the animal kingdom. "The Animal," as his housemates called him, was infamous in the school for the name while the other Houses had no idea of the identity. Even the Slytherin first years took a few months to notice the correlation between Blaise's momentary disappearance and... unfortunate events. And that was only because someone was always gazing at his stunning looks. Handsome as a stallion.

Now to his goal for the night, and not a sexual escapade this time: where to dig up some dirt on the other houses? Aha! He couldn't resist giving a small, wolflike howl that would send his housemates running should they hear it. The noise echoed off the vaulted ceiling. Where better to go than the Sorting Hat, the only one to know each house accurately enough to place the students every year for such a long time?

"Perfect." Blaise purred like a cat. He resisted the famous catlike stretch.

The staircase to the Headmaster's office was barred from entry so, cunning as a fox, he crouched in the shadows and began naming off sweets. "Lemon drops, licorice wands, chocolate frogs, jellybeans..."

Gods, what on earth could that stupid password be! Growing frustrated, Blaise growled the most ridiculous thing that came to mind. "Harry Potter's sweet candy ass!"

The staircase opened. He felt sick to his stomach, enormously disturbed at the password. He knocked at the Headmaster's door - no one took Dumbledore unawares, only proved now that Blaise knew that ghastly password - and entered when called for.

"Ah, Mister Zabini!" Despite the late hour, the old wizard still sat behind his desk. "And how may I be of service at this time?"

It was strange that even though he was Headmaster, Dumbledore never saw fit to enforce the rules. 'If I have teachers for that, I will merely attend to my wizardly quests.' He always sang.

"I was wondering," Blaise couldn't help inhaling to strengthen his nerves of steel. "If I could have a word with the Sorting Hat. I have met with the sudden desire to learn more about my house." Other than their wild midnight Quidditch, of course.

"An honorable task, my boy. Go right ahead." His eyes twinkled. By god, they twinkled. "I fully support your mission to discover the secrets of Hogwarts. I myself have learned from the hat a great number of the school's stranger mysteries."

"Um, thank you Professor." He grumbled like a grouse, keeping low-key as a feline on the prowl. He approached the Hat, sitting upon a stool in a crowded corner of the office from which the Headmaster was no longer visible. He knelt at its level to speak.

"Excuse me?" He asked.

"SLYTHERIN!" The Hat roared, startling a jump out of Zabini that he would venomously deny ever happened. "Oh, I am sorry. Still in the habit, if you catch my drift."

Blaise cleared his throat, an olive-skinned hand ruffling his dark curls. "Quite alright. I was hoping you could help me, actually."

"I will try." It was eerie, the moving face etched into the fabric. "But I'll warn you, my only area of expertise lies within the great houses."

"Lovely." He leered. "I meant to learn about them in the first place. After a good taste of my own house traditions, I'd like to learn about the others. What can you tell me about the Hufflepuffs?"

"Hufflepuffs?" The Hat laughed. "Loyal, caring, down to earth... And the greatest illusion in all of the castle!"

"What?" He breathed, wonder across his face. It was like a kitten observing an aquarium. "An illusion? But all of the Hufflepuffs are exactly what you've said!"

The Sorting Hat snorted. "And more, of course. Put the hat on and I shall give you a clue. The inner affairs of the houses are always a secret from the Headmaster."

Blaise looked up just in time to catch Dumbledore leaning precariously far over the side of his desk to see the occupied corner. The old man waved merrily, shoving a handful of peppermints in his mouth. The Slytherin shuddered at the thought of candy. Sweet candy ass.

"I daresay even our dearest Headmaster had some interesting encounters related to his House traditions." The Hat laughed as Blaise put it on his well-formed head and sat in the stool. "But it is a rule of mine that no teacher can learn the new traditions, nor interfere, though I doubt any teacher would wish to intercept events they themselves took part in. But honestly! House secrets are the best part of Hogwarts! They will be among the fondest memories in the future. Now, you wished to learn of the Hufflepuffs?"

"Yes." Blaise answered promptly. "And everything you can tell me about all of the houses."

Things he could use to his advantage.

"Well now, aren't you greedy for information!" It cackled. "I've been sorely in need of entertainment, so why don't we make a deal? I will give you a clue that shall lead you to discover an amazing tidbit and once you've finished with that, you will receive another clue!"

"Perfect!" Blaise exclaimed.

"Well then... What clue shall lead you to the inner world of the reclusive Hufflepuffs? Not so open as they seem..." The Hat mused, then laughingly shouted in Blaise's head. "THOUGH A SLYTHERIN'S CLOTHING IS EASILY SHED, ONLY A VERY LUCKY STUDENT IS INVITED TO A HUFFLEPUFF'S BED!"

Zabini froze. Dear god, if what he suspected was true... He'd spent the past few years of his post pubescent life missing out. No one ever had sex with a Hufflepuff. No one. 'Except Hufflepuffs.'

"If I guess right, do I get the next clue immediately?" He asked the Hat excitedly.

"NO! You must experience Hogwarts tradition at its finest."

With a growing sense of butterflies in his stomach Blaise padded unseen to the sixth-year dormitories. No wonder the Hufflepuffs bred like rabbits! He couldn't help feeling betrayed, that all those Hufflepuffs were shagging behind everyone's backs!

Suddenly, laying in his bed stretched out like a cat, Blaise knew what he had to do. He had to rope himself a Hufflepuff. If the Hat was right, Hufflepuff House's best kept secret was... in the sack.

Breakfast the next morning saw a late Blaise Zabini striding into the great hall with a grin on his face. It was so shark-like that his housemates literally cringed in fear. Although the other houses were appropriately disturbed by the expression, it took the common knowledge possessed by Slytherin to feel the true fear of the wild.

Blaise studiously removed all expression as he sat beside Draco Malfoy, both to hide his latest conquest and be on the lookout for the blond's revenge. He began filling his plate with small bits of food, consciously avoiding the bacon. Any self-respecting Slytherin avoided bacon on Wednesdays and pumpkin juice on Fridays. It was... tradition.

"...looks like he's on the prowl." He heard from further down the table. Blaise leaned forwards to look past Goyle at a third year murmuring closely with his friends. The kid noticed the puckishly crooked smile on Blaise's face, small enough to be unnoticeable but for his in-house reputation. He instantly closed his mouth, nodding nervously at The Animal. He knew something was going on – Hell, only ten minutes in the great hall and one look at the expression informed all of Slytherin – and wanted no part of it.

"Ready for that Ancient Runes test today?" Draco asked slyly, nudging Blaise. "Everyone else seems a bit nervous about it."

He laughed. "Of course I'm ready! Wouldn't want those Ravenclaws or... Hufflepuffs... to show me up, now would I?"

"Never." Draco smirked.

They turned to watch eagerly as a Slytherin near the end of the table unthinkingly picked up a slice of bacon. Everyone had it on their plate but had yet to take a bite. Even Snape leaned forwards slightly at the faculty table, fully aware of that "tradition." Blaise idly wondered if his Head of House had ever seen anyone actually eat the Wednesday Bacon.

The second year girl, a tiny thing, noticed the whole table watching and paled. The other houses were deep in their own chaotic conversations, too busy to pay attention to the Slytherin table's suddenly bated breath. The girl dropped the bacon as if burnt and heaved a sigh of relief. What a close call.

Blaise looked away to glance at the Hufflepuff table as if sizing it up. Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbot, Cedric Diggory... All were fair enough targets. He stared at Cedric's backside – the immensely popular seventh year was facing away from him – and realized there was an outsider he could speak to.

When he stood, casually brushing a hand across an unsuspecting Draco's back, and left the hall without eating a single bite of breakfast, Slytherin knew something was happening and hoped the destruction would fall upon someone else.