Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
She wasn't sure how she had come by such a warm and comfortable place to fall asleep, in fact she couldn't remember when or where she had fallen asleep. In fact as her brain slowly started to awaken from such comfortable slumber where she was became less of an importance as the hippogriff that was parading around her head was beginning to deafen her. She groaned as she buried her head deeper into her warm pillow. She parted her lips and instantly regretted it, someone had swapped her tongue for sandpaper, she was desperate for a drink but the hippogriff had suddenly learnt to tap dance and was in the middle of a magnificent routine, leaving her unable to move.
She wasn't sure how it had happened but there was no doubt in her mind she was hungover, if only she could remember where she had gotten the alcohol. The last thing she could remember was being dragged against her will by Harry and Ron to an abandoned classroom for some sort of party, she could remember really not wanting to be there and she had drunk some kind of purple punch. Highly likely, spiked purple punch. She was going to hex and possibly kill the fool who had spiked the punch once she was capable of actually moving.
Now that she was aware of how she had gotten into this mess she just had to figure out where the mess she was in was. From where she was laid she could only imagine she was in a bed, a very comfortable bed. Her hand slipped down the pillow and she froze as the pillow beneath her moved. Pillows didn't move, people moved but not pillows. She clenched her eyes tighter and swore, she shifted slightly on the bed and groaned, she was naked and her pillow was all the way down the right side of her bed.
Hermione was certain of only two things, her hippogriff had received an encore and was doing the second dance of the night and her pillow was definitely not a pillow. She was going to murder the fool that had spiked the punch, a simple hex was no longer going to be sufficient. The man in her bed… was it a man? She had never considered herself interested in women but she had never dreamed she'd have a drunken one night stand with someone either, right now anything was possible.
Slowly she peeled open her eyes, before quickly shutting them as the bright light attacked her. Her day was getting worse. Peeling her eyes open once more she blinked at the light and looked down at the body beneath her.
The first thing that greeted her was a warm chocolate colour, so it wasn't Harry or Ron. The second thing was how in shape the body below her was, he was nice and toned with a clear six pack, his dark arm was sprawled across the bed and she could now feel the other arm around her waist resting on top of her leg. She glanced away from the body and to her own, she was barely covered by the sheet, it covering her only from waist down. Her breasts were pressed against his chest and her tummy twisted just above his hip. She could feel her leg on top of his and something warm touching her leg. She blushed upon realising what that something warm was.
Overall she was quite impressed with her drunk taste, at least the person she picked was easy on the eyes, she just couldn't remember how many boys were dark skinned, the only name running through her mind was Dean Thomas but she was sure there was another. Looking at his hand she frowned, she had worked with Dean on a transfiguration project earlier in the year and she was certain his hand was hairy. This hand was smooth the hair stopping at the wrist. It was quite a manly hand, a dominant hand she thought as a memory from the night before came flooding back to her. Dominate hand with very talented fingers.
Dean was the only person in Gryffindor with Dark skin in her year. Hufflepuff only had Michael Corner and Ernest Macmillian return to complete their last year and though Ravenclaw had all their students return not one of them was this dark which left only one house… Slyther...
"Shit!" Hermione cursed as the name flew into her mind. Blaise Zabini! The silent but cocky arrogant Slytherin, he had been one of the chosen few Slughorn had picked to be in his elusive club, and though he was very attractive his personality wasn't. How had she managed to jump into bed with him! She was going to hill that idiot and hang their body from the highest tower on a flag pole so the wind would batter their corpse because she had slept with Blaise Zabini...
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The warmth resting against his body was moving. That was the first thing he noticed the second, he was well and truly ruined. His head was killing and he felt sick. He was going to kill Nott for spiking the punch. How much booze had he actually placed in it! His head was spinning and the warm was wiggling. Warmth didn't wiggle on its own he deciphered rather quickly and grinned pulling the warm body closer towards him. He couldn't remember very much about the night, he had watch Theo Nott spike the punch and had poured himself a few glasses and that's it. In the blackness of his memory he had picked up a girl and brought her to bed, if only he could remember what had happened.
The hand on his chest slowly slid down his chest and he groaned at the feel of her hand, it was soft and warm and it was sending tingling sensations straight to his little friend. The hand stopped moving after he groaned and he sighed. Running his free hand over his face he rubbed his eyes and blinked. He stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes before looking down. He couldn't see her face but from his angle he was pleased; she was slim, though there was a bit of a tummy and surprisingly he liked it, she appeared to be curvy and from behind he could she top of her bum before the white sheets covered her up. Who was she?
Her body had given nothing away and he looked at her hair, brown and wavy and a lot of it. It was sprawled all across his chest and it was messy. It looked familiar but he just couldn't place it on anyone. It was wild and untamed and from the stinging in his back he really wished he'd remembered the night before. His hand came up to feel her hair and he felt the girl stiffen as he played with it. It was a nice colour, not too dark but a definite brown. It was soft and smelt like apples and parchment. An odd combination but kind of, calming. He looked away from the hair and focused his attention on the room. He had no idea where he was but it was a mess. There were books and ink smashed on the floor beside the desk, clothes were thrown all over the room and from here he could see his Slytherin tie laid on the floor next to a pair of black knickers. Smirking he continued to look around the room until something caught his eye and he tensed. There was a tie hanging on the door, he hoped in his hungover state that the colours staring back at him were wrong but the more he stared at the tie the stronger the colours became. Red and gold. He tore his eyes from the tie and stared at the hair. He knew where he had seen hair like this before! Only one person in Hogwarts wore a red and gold tie and had brown messy hair, he had done the impossible the unthinkable. He had slept with Hermione Granger.
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She was certain he was awake, what with the twitching and moving he was doing he couldn't still be asleep. She wondered if he knew it was her, or had he not yet worked out who was in his bed, she kind of hoped he didn't know it was her straight away, kind of put them even playing fields if he was as lost as she was.
"G'morning Granger," he mumbled and Hermione closed her eyes.
"Zabini," she said reaching for the sheet before rolling away from him. She finally looked up at his face and he looked rough, he clearly had the hippogriffs brother break dancing in his head.
"My heads killing," he said covering his eyes with his hands, caring very little for his obvious indecency.
Hermione berated herself but her eyes slipped down his body as he stretched, the sheet was tented and the ache between her legs was now understandable. "What happened?" she asked slowly sitting up, before groaning as she gripped her head.
"Don't know about you but I said we had sex and by the state of this room I'd say a few times." She wanted to knock the smug smirk off his face but she held back, rash movements wouldn't stop the ferris wheel in her stomach.
"Thank you for stating the obvious! What I meant was, what happened last night. The last thing I remember was drinking that purple punch and now I've woken up feeling absolutely horrible in bed with you."
"At least I'm not the only one who feels rough," he muttered before pulling himself up. "That was a very bad idea," he said and Hermione watched his face turn a shade of green.
"I'm going to personally kill the idiot that spiked the punch!" she said and Blaise nodded in agreement.
"I'll hold him down and you can kill him." he muttered slowly regaining control on his stomach.
"Him? You mean you know who it is?" Hermione exclaimed before wincing at the sound of her own voice!
"Theo Nott!"
"Bloody snake! Should have known it be one of you lot!" Blaise chuckled and Hermione's scowl strengthened.
"Enough about Nott! No guy wants to listen about some other bloke when he's naked in bed with a girl. You don't remember anything?" he asked and Hermione shook her head. "Me neither!" he chuckled.
"Brilliant!" Hermione muttered, "suppose we best get dressed and leave then."
"That would be wise," he muttered glancing around the room, "nice room, bigger than I thought it would have been in Gryffindor."
"This isn't my room, I thought it was yours?" she said turning to face him with a frown. Blaise shook his head. "So if it isn't yours and it isn't mine, whose room are we in?"
"Fuck knows," Blaise laughed and pushed the sheets away to stand, he thought back the nausea and stretched not bothered that he was completely naked.
Hermione's eyes roamed over him, his legs were long and toned his bum tight and peachy and his back… covered in scratches. She winced glancing down at her nails, who knew she was such an animal when drunk.
"Like what you see," Blaise's asked cockily glancing over his shoulder catching her staring at him.
"I've seen better," she replied with a smirk causing Blaise to raise an eyebrow. "Sorry about your back," he frowned before reaching down for his discarded pants before walking over to the mirror.
"Damn Granger," he cried as he looked at his back, "you really are part lion!"
"I said sorry," she chuckled, and wrapped the sheet around her body as she went in search of her own clothes. The quicker she was out of this room the better as fragments of the night before were slowly returning.
She found her bra first and turning her back to Blaise quickly slipped it on, from across the room Blaise rolled his eyes. "Why so discrete I don't remember you being so shy last night."
"Thought you said you couldn't remember anything of last night!" she shot back her face darkening as he smirked.
"It's starting to come back to me," his smirk grew wider as he slipped on his shirt. He grabbed his tie from the floor as Hermione reached for her skirt. Slipping it on she spied the room for the rest of her clothes, her shirt was on the floor near the desk, visions of Blaise between her legs as he fucked her on the desk attacked her mind and she groaned. He was right about the multiple occasions. Her tie was hanging off the door and she wondered how it had gotten there. Her socks were beside the bed and her cloak dumped in a pile in the middle of the room. The only thing she couldn't find was her knickers. They had to be in the room somewhere.
Blaise fastened his tie around his neck as Hermione searched the room, he knew what she was looking for and turned away with a smirk. She'd never find her knickers, not unless she suddenly had the urge to fondle him. He had already tucked the small scrap of fabric in his pocket, a souvenir from the night's adventure. He was sure in Muggle tales a princess bestowed a gift to a prince if he rescued her, why did this have to be any different?
Forgoing her pants she quickly gathered the rest of her clothes grateful that dancing hippogriff had performed his last performance. As she sat on the bed she ran her fingers through her hair, or would have if they hadn't gotten stuck so far down. Small marks covered the top of her inner thighs and as she looked closer she realised they were bite marks.
Blaise stood silently against the wall as he watched her inspect a mark on her leg, he walked closer to her and grinned upon realising what it was. "Looks like I ate more than I realised."
Hermione scowled up at him, "this stay in this room, nobody and I mean nobody finds out about this!" she said and Blaise nodded.
"I've a reputation to uphold Granger do you really think I'll be boasting about this. If Potter and Weasely don't behead me first my own house will disown me."
"I know that feeling," she said with a shake of her head. "Really wish I had something for this hangover now, what do we take in the Wizarding World, I'm sure you have some knowledge in that criteria."
"Well I'll be damned, a subject Hermione Granger doesn't know much about. I'll pity you Granger, try Pepperup it helps." Hermione nodded and smiled.
"Suppose we best get out of here," she said looking for her wand.
"I'll go first and you should follow in a few minutes you don't want people seeing us walking out of here at the same time do you," said Blaise and Hermione nodded, she still had to find her knickers anyway!
He headed towards the door as Hermione walked for her wand. As he reached the door he paused and looked back of his shoulder. "Thanks for the souvenir Granger" and he walked out of the room.
Hermione frowned and mouthed his words back to her, what did he mean thanks for the souvenir. She reached for her wand and was just about to accio her knickers when it hit her.
"Zabini!"
So the idea came to me the other day when I read something a little similar to this and I just couldn't get the idea of these two out of my head, I'm going through a Blaise/Hermione stage at the minute, and incredibly disappointed to find there's hardly any Hermione/Blaise stories out there, obviously people don't support this pairing as much as I thought!
