A/N: Enjoy the story. Happy birthday Emma!

Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear what you all think of this story. This is my first take on Blaise and Ginny as a couple. Updates once a month.

Harry Potter does not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling

Summary

Ginny Weasley always knew life wasn't fair. Her Father's career situation had proven that time after time, but she had never thought life was this ironically cruel. She certainly hadn't expected to wake up to a cruelly smirking Blaise Zabini. Oh, had she mentioned he was lying next to her, naked?

When a prank goes wrong, how far will you go to find out who did it? Sexual tension runs high and it seems that the Slytherins aren't the only ones with secrets

oOo

Prologue

Soft light was filtering in through the small windows lining the left walls of the room. The room was small, perhaps she would have called it even cosy, had she been feeling quite all right, but the room was in a disarray. Furniture had been toppled over and an empty bottle lay on the floor, a large wet patch still drying on the carpet beneath it.

Their lips met hastily, tongues dancing to the tempo of the bass downstairs. Her fingers curled needily into his short cropped hair. She tasted the Firewhiskey on his tongue. The zip of her jeans and the popping sound the buttons made when she yanked his shirt open should have stirred her brain, but the madness was to strong.

Ginny's head was aching. Her head was aching rather badly actually. It felt like she had taken a Bludger to the head. Ginny rolled on her side, ignoring her spinning head and swallowed as her stomach rolled with her.

'What had happened?'

She sat up against the pillows and slowly opened her bleary, bloodshot caramel eyes. Her lips were dry and her head was aching so badly she needed to squeeze her eyes close in an attempt to stop the bile from rising.

She knew what a hangover felt like. She had once nicked a bottle of bourbon from a supermarket, following Fred and George to an excluded spot near the Burrow, surrounded by thousands and thousands of tall daffodils. She remembered the distinct feel of the heat of the rock, on which she had been stretched out while they passed the bottle. Her brothers had been better at holding their liquor. She on the other hand, got stupidly drunk. She vaguely recalled proclaiming to them her undying love for Harry Potter. Only the idea could make her cheeks tinge pink.

Ginny opened her eyes again. Long strands of auburn hair dangled in front of her face and the sun rays were reflected of little specks of dust dangling in the room. An unfamiliar room. As panic began to rise, she kicked the too warm blankets off her chest and skidded off the bed, tumbling backward of the bed, into a heap on the floor.

"What are you doing?" a sleepy voice asked.

Ginny stiffened. Not from the voice, not at least she knew that voice, but from her clothes. Or should she say her lack of clothes. She scrambled to her feet, dragging the blankets off the bed and wrapping them around her naked torso, before turning towards the person — there had actually been a boy next to her in the bed — who'd spoken just seconds ago.

Blaise Zabini, fifth year Slytherin student was peeking at her through her long lashes. He had propped himself up on one arm and was smirking at her. Her breathing sped up when she finally noticed the stiffness between her legs.

She wasn't familiar with it, but she wasn't stupid either.

Hogwarts offered no lessons on sex education. Muggle schools actually did… She knew Hermione Granger had nagged about it for a complete evening, before Ginny had enough and escaped to the Quidditch pitch. Her mother always laughed embarrassedly whenever the subject sex came up, but there were books, magazines and gossip you could turn to whenever you were curious. That said, she knew what had happened.

A chair had been overturned, clothing was strewn about the room and an empty bottle of Ogdens finest lay on the carpet. She noticed her bra dangling from the doorknob and someone's underwear draped on the edge of another bed. A girl Ginny didn't recognised was strewn out onto a different bed, while a pale arm was thrown over her petite frame.

"What happened here?" she whispered, before prodding Zabini with her index finger. "What did you do?"

"I'd say that's somewhat obvious, princess." he drawled and she felt the fingers of her right hand curl into a fist while the need to hex the Italian boy into next Christmas.

"How— Why?" she asked, blinking as tears started to accumulate in her eyes. "Did you—" she couldn't find the words nor did she know what exactly she wanted to ask.

A heat, scorching and tingling, laced her bloodstream and she heard her own moan reverberate through the room. Strong hands moved to her hips and urged her legs, jeans puddled to the floor, to wrap around his hips.

"You're not thinking I drugged you do you?" he asked, the amused expression leaving his face. He slowly got up, unashamed of his nakedness. Ginny's eyes widened, she had never seen a boy — who wasn't family; and that had possibly been awkwardest moment of her life — naked before, and she felt her cheeks redden even further.

"Oh my God," she mumbled, turning around and hiding her face into her hands.

Bits and pieces of the night before flashed before her closed eyelids. How Zabini had stumbled into to the library celebrating his House's Quidditch victory with a bottle of Ogdens finest and how he dared her into taking a few sips — which ended up in a quarter of the bottle. She remembered how he had backed her against a bookcase and snogged her — definitely nothing like Seamus had done just a few weeks ago. How he had smuggled her into the Slytherin common room, although none of his house mates noticed as they were all partying — and she meant that in a very sexual gravitating way — pulled her up the stairs into his room, hoisted her up against the wall, while folding her legs around his waist and—

"Oh My— Merlin—" she whispered, her breathing growing more laboured.

"Easy now, Weasley!" he told her, closing the distance between them, and catching her arm. "I didn't force you or anything— Although it is weird that I sought you out— and that you came with me, actually."

"You took advantage of my drunken state!" she accused, trying to wrench her arm free. His eyes narrowed, before pushing her back onto the bed. She struggled, the blankets falling off of her and she opened her mouth to scream. In a motion almost predatory, he pulled the blankets up to her chin and pressed his hand over her mouth. He was literally sitting on her hips and holding her torso down with one arm, while keeping her from screaming with the other.

"Stuff it!" he hissed, "Do you really want to wake Nott or Parkinson up and been found out?"

Ginny's eyes widened. He waited for a moment, before slowly pulling his hands away and sitting up. "Good, can I get you something?" he asked, the perfect-gentleman-mask slipped on as if he hadn't slept with someone she was sure he viewed as a Blood-traitor. Refusing to entertain those thoughts she nodded.

"Do you have water?"

He smirked, before summoning a glass of the clear liquid. She accepted it.

"Isn't she Malfoy's girlfriend?" Ginny asked, gratefully bringing the glass of water to her lips, her eyes glancing back at the brunette on the other bed. She seemed to be sleeping soundly, cradling her own bottle of pure evil alcohol to her equally naked chest.

"I think Malfoy would sooner eat glass. He has tried to get rid of her fanning attention all year."

"What the hell happened here?" Ginny asked, her headache winning out from any panic attacks that would normally lace her bloodstream in such a situation. "Are you Slytherins into group orgies?"

Blaise Zabini shook his head. "No,"

For some reason that was not a surprise. She had already suspected it hadn't been normal. "Where's my wand?" she asked slowly.

He shook his head again. "I don't know."

There were voices downstairs. Ginny swallowed a new wave of nausea away and started to collect her clothes, slowly stepping into her jeans. When she turned to look at the Slytherin boy she noticed him staring. Her cheeks flushed darker than her hair and Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Don't look at me!" she hissed.

He smirked. "But there is so much to look at." he told her, "I want you to remember me fondly, this was your first time, wasn't it?"

She was on him in seconds her fist connecting with his cheek and her knee pressing against his stomach. "You are an arsehole!" she cried, and Zabini seemed so surprised she was able to hit him a few times more, before he caught her wrists and toppled them over. Pressing her arms against the mattress and immobilising her lower body by sitting on her hips he glowered.

"You will not do that again!" he hissed, stressing every word.

"Get off me!" she cried again, bucking against him, but not even managing to lift him an inch.

"Like hell I will," he snapped back, tightening his grip on her wrist. "Listen, and listen carefully."

She jutted her jaw out into an aggressive gesture, but did nod. She did nod, if only to give him the false pretence that she would listen. He exhaled loudly, pulling her wrists above her head, and grabbing them in one hand. Ginny's eyes widened and she started to struggle again.

"Stop it," he hissed again. "Listen, I don't know what happened! I drunk so much, I don't even know how we ended in the same bed, although I vaguely remember pushing you against the wall and ravaging you, but hell if I know why… So can you please finally calm down so that I can get a sober-up-potion? For fuck sake, it feels like a bunch of hippogriffs are rampaging through my head…"

"Uch," a female voice moaned and both Zabini and Ginny stiffened. "Who is being so loud so early in the morning?"

Pansy Parkinson, her hair in an absolute disarray sat up slowly. Her dark hair framed her face while her eyes looked red-rimmed and her lipstick was smeared from her lips on her chin. She blinked lazily against the sunlight, and then her eyes widened.

"What am I doing here?" she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper and her eyes widening comically. Ginny momentarily forgot she was being pressed to an unfamiliar — 'not that unfamiliar' the voice in her head muttered — bed by a very hostile very tall Slytherin, and watched with something akin to morbid fascination as Pansy Parkinson glanced down at her naked body. "I'm naked." she glanced at the boy behind her over her shoulder. "Theodore!" she cried, falling backwards off the bed in a fashion much like how Ginny had discovered her surroundings.

Theodore Nott, pale and weedy looking slowly sat up. He was as pale as a sheet and he slowly lifted the covers looking at— well Ginny could imagine what he looked at, and letting them fall back over his thighs and dropped back onto his back without a word.

"That's it?" Pansy yelled grabbing someone's school-robe, and wrapping it around herself. "What did you put into my drink?" she hissed accusingly and Ginny frowned. "I would never even look at you, what did you put into my drink?" she cried a little bit louder.

"Nothing," Nott whispered, "My father is going to murder me," he muttered to himself.

Parkinson's ears turned red and she started to frantically look around for something. "I'm going to hex you into—." her eyes fell upon Ginny. "Oh, for Circle's sake, Blaise, you too?" she cried, her eyes widening when she noticed their position. "You've forced yourself on the She-Weasel?" Pansy shrieked. Nott shivered and Ginny grimaced.

"What?" Blaise Zabini snapped, "No, why would you even think so?"

She gave him a look as if saying; 'really?', before swiftly slipping into a lime-green robe. "Get off her, you wanker!"

Ginny breathed in gratefully as Zabini jumped off the bed and stalked towards the pug-faced girl. "You and I both know I don't need to force myself on a girl." he told her threateningly, "And I would never go after a Blood-traitor, something is wrong with the booze!"

"Well, thank you!" Ginny snapped angrily, inhaling slowly as her stomach lurched. "Oh, my God," she whispered, hanging her head between her legs.

"Oh, I'm sorry, would you normally look twice at me?" Zabini asked sarcastically, completely oblivious to her nausea. "Because I don't think you would. Nott, get the fuck out of the bed, we need to figure this out, where are the others?"

Theodore Nott, slowly sat up again, wrapped the blankets around him and disappeared into the bathroom. They heard the toilet flush a few times as he made heaving noises. Parkinson slumped down onto the floor and grabbed the bottle, glaring at it.

"Do you really think this caused it all?" she asked slowly, Ginny glanced through the gaps of her fingers at the other girl. She had to stay calm. She couldn't panic now, if her brothers found out she slept with a Slytherin, a bigoted Slytherin at that, she would never hear the end of it. Ginny blinked against the hot stinging tears. No matter how much she wanted this to disappear, she couldn't deny the truth. She had slept with Zabini and, try as she might, she had enjoyed it. Ginny peeked slowly at the tall Italian boy. She couldn't deny that the Slytherin boy was extremely good looking. And — that was the problem — he knew it. It hadn't mattered to Ginny though, she had always been enamoured with Harry Potter.

That said, that didn't mean she had shied away from all sexual matters. She had had boyfriends before after all, but she had never gone all the way. It was like her mother always said; she was too young and she hadn't been able to find the right one… Or the right one hadn't been able to see her as of yet.

Zabini seemed to finally realise he was still naked and slowly put on some trousers. Ginny felt her cheeks redden again. His shoulders were broad — nothing like Ronald's dangly form — and he was almost as tall as Fred and George — almost the keyword. She swallowed as she felt a tingle of heat travel through her. Her mouth felt suddenly dry and she fisted the beddings into her hands.

Zabini stared at her through half-lidded eyes, his eyes darkening considerably and Ginny tried to swallow. The door of the bathroom opened again and Theodore Nott appeared. He, thankfully was now fully dressed and was holding a wand. She was broken out of her strange trance and shook her head.

"I found this," Nott muttered awkwardly. "Who's is it?"

Ginny could have cried. She could have kissed him. That was her wand! She jumped to her feet and almost ran up to the pale boy. He looked at her as if she would jump him — it might have crossed her mind, he looked awfully endearing with that doe look on his face.

She stiffened, her cheeks reddening from her own thoughts. Her mind reeled and her exhaled slowly. "Can I have it back, please?" she asked slowly.

Theodore Nott nodded, dropping it above her extended hand, making absolutely sure not to touch her. He straightened up, leaning forward suddenly and tugged the bottle out of Parkinson's hand. "Blaise, do you really think there was something wrong with Draco's booze?"

"Draco would never—" Parkinson started, only to be interrupted by the door slamming open.

Severus Snape, head of Slytherin House stood in the door opening. His black, beady eyes flitted around the room, narrowing as he noticed Ginny and his face paled when he noticed the bottle in Nott's hand.

"All of you get to the Common room!" he hissed lowly. "You too, Miss Weasley!"

Ginny stiffened, her eyebrows furrowing and her knuckles turned white. "But Professor—"

The look he gave her was so dark, she hurried out of the room, hiding behind Zabini and Nott when they entered a dimly lit circular room and crossed her arms over her chest. Slytherin students; mostly fourteen year and above, a few Ravenclaw students; barely dressed and looking around the room as if someone would jump them, and in a far corner next to a window which looked out into the lake stood a group of Hufflepuffs huddling together.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" she asked softly.

To be continued…

A/N: Here is the first chapter (the prologue) of this story. This is mostly dedicated to my best friend, who wanted a BlaiseXGinny story. So I hope you'll like this (and stop nagging me). Chapter updates will be once a month.

Please comment and let me know what you all thought. I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts.

Harry Potter does not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling.