A/N: Hey! Long time since I've been on here. So, I've decided to take up a challenge and write. So this is the product. It didn't go the way I thought it would...so I don't really like it. But tell me what you think in a review.
So this is written for the Red Hot Hatred Challenge on Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges. Pairing was BlaiseHermione and the prompt was "out of your mind" though I changed it to "out of mind." Hope you don't mind...

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.

And it was definitely out of mind. She was Gryffindor's golden girl and he was Slytherin's bad boy. She was a bookworm and he was a player. She was smart, brilliant, kind, witty, lovely, emotional, and exceptional. He was serious, rude, cunning, and nothing exceptional. She was a muggle-born and he was a pureblood. She was the light and he was the dark. They couldn't have been more opposite. Nothing special could ever happen between them. It was forbidden.

It started simple at first. All they did was hate each other. He was a Slytherin and she was a Gryffindor. He was Malfoy's best friend and she was Potter and Weasley's. It was required that he hated her and she hated him. He was always among the crowd that bullied her, hated her, that pushed her down to the ground. He was always there when Malfoy mocked her and bullied he, always there to congratulate Malfoy in what he had done.

However, she had been the opposite. She had extended him a hand of friendship, which he had blatantly refused, on the first day, so desperate to fit in in this strange, new world. And with all the insults thrown at her from him, her dislike grew and soon turned into hatred.

The years passed by and their hatred only grew stronger and stronger. Harsh words were exchanged, as were physical attacks as spells and jinxes flew past their heads. Screams echoed through the hallways as they argued aggressively, not bothering to hide their contempt. Hexes were thrown as their hatred was fueled on because of anger, insults, and just being so opposite.

But it all fell together one day. Perhaps it was when she became so lonely in her sixth year, abandoned by both of her friends, one chasing a girl and another trying to save the world. Perhaps it was that day, when they collided in the empty hallway in their fifth year, eyes meeting and unmoving for a few seconds, neither daring to breathe. Or maybe it went all the way back to their fourth year when she presented herself, beautiful and proud, looking ohsoregal at the Yule Ball. Maybe it was at the Yule Ball, when he danced with her, silently, gracefully, as for the first time disdain was not shown. He could almost feel his heart skip a beat as he saw her descend the staircase, and later, as he twirled her around the sparkling dance floor.

And though he could feel the love, he kept his walls up. After all, he was Blaise and she was Hermione, he was Romeo and she was Juliet, he was the Phantom and she was Christine. They were sworn enemies, nothing would change that. They were so close, yet so far apart it broke his heart. He didn't even know if she loved him back.

He felt the pang of pain in his chest, every time he passed by her. He felt the guilt when she looked accusingly at him. He felt the jealousy strike into his heart when she went to Slughorn's Christmas party with McLaggen. He felt the depression as she continued to chase after that Weasley. And soon, he forced himself to believe that he did not love her, that she was nothing. Because that's the only solution, right?

But he couldn't keep away from her beauty, her charm, and found himself more attracted to her, even as the world took a dark turn as Malfoy did his best to follow out his orders. Winter passed, and the depression in him slowly deepened and deepened, so much so that he ran. Ran from the common room. Ran to a place where he could be alone.

As he stood dejectedly against the walls, he heard a sob. A quiet sob. A girl. He peered through the darkness and craned his neck. "Are you all right?" he asked.

The girl gasped. She quickly turned her head to face him and…it was her. Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes puffy and red from hours of crying. When she saw him, her eyes narrowed and she sneered. "Are you here to mock me?"

Blaise gulped down his guilt. "Of course not." He walked over and knelt by her side, handing her his handkerchief. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She stared at him with distrust. "It doesn't even matter anyways."

"Okay."

A tense silence settled as neither spoke, not knowing what to say. Having enough of this, Hermione stood up to leave and...he leaned forward and kissed her. It was soft and gentle and sweet, better than any of the kisses he had shared with other girls he had been with. He didn't know where he got the courage to kiss her, but it felt good.

As they broke apart, he expected her to slap him and run. He lowered his head, as if in shame, but felt arms pulling him into a hug. He looked up and saw her face in front of his and he smiled. She leaned her head against his shoulder and whispered, "This is definitely out of mind. It's never going to work out."

He turned his head to kiss her cheek, softly. "We'll make it work out. I promise."

A/N: I think this needs a new title. So if you have any suggestions, please tell me.

Please don't favorite without reviewing.