Chapter One: (a/n: no matter what it seems like I don't own this story, first. Second, it is a Draco/Hermione fic with a bit of Blaise/Hermione)
"Mr. Zabini, I would deeply appreciate it if you paid attention in this class! You're Head Boy and I don't want to have to fail you," Professor McGonagall yelled at Blaise Zabini for the fifth time that hour and the rest of the class could tell she was getting annoyed.
"I am paying attention. I just can't bloody get the bloody spell right!" he grumbled back through clenched teeth.
"Mr. Zabini, first of all, I would also appreciate if you watched your tongue in the classroom, and second…I am assigning you a tutor, so please wait momentarily after class," she told him sternly, turning her back to the class and beginning to write on the board. The Gryffindors all sniggered loudly as most of the Slytherins gave Blaise looks of sympathy.
Blaise Zabini was easily one of the best looking boys in seventh year, and in the school. If Draco Malfoy hadn't been there, he would have been the best looking person in the school. He had dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes, his skin was smooth and tan, and he was tall and muscular. He was very smart and quiet, and the only subject he had trouble with was…Transfiguration.
He turned around in his seat and looked at his best friend, Draco Malfoy, who nodded at his understandingly. The thing about Blaise was that if you didn't know him, for example you saw him walking down the street, you could never tell how he was feeling. But if you knew him, his eyes said it all. One look from him and you could right an essay on how he was feeling. And right now Draco Malfoy could tell his friend was feeling angry and embarrassed, and also curious about knowing whom his tutor was going to be. Although most people thought that Draco was going to be the next in line after Voldemort, everyone on the Dark side knew better. The Zabini family was the darkest of families ever to have lived and they were capable of magic that most wizards could only dream of. Blaise turned back around and glared angrily at the blackboard, but not before stealing a glance at a certain muggle-born, sitting in between the Boy-Who-Lived and the Boy-Who-Was-Deathly-Afraid-Of-Spiders (Ron and Harry if you didn't get it).
Hermione Granger had certainly changed over the last two years. Her hair had finally tamed itself, now falling in elegant ringlets of brown and gold to the middle of her back. Her figure had developed a lot, so much, as a matter of fact, that her best friends had to admit that if they weren't her best friends, they wouldn't mind dating her. She had developed curves in all the right places and grown a few inches. All in all, Hermione Granger had one word that most guys in Hogwarts were using to describe her: Perfect. Of course, being Hermione, she was completely and utterly clueless to the entire ordeal.
Blaise stared at Hermione for a moment, and wondered how she could get the spell so simply. It all came so easily to her, the magic. So it was no surprise to him that when the bell rang and he stayed behind, McGonagall asked Hermione to wait as well. He just stared at her until all the students filed out of the classroom on their way to dinner.
"Yes Professor?" Hermione's voice brought Blaise back to the classroom.
"Miss Granger, I need to ask you for a favor," Professor McGonagall said simply.
"I know, Professor. Tutor Zab…Blaise, right?" Hermione said, glancing at Blaise. Their eyes met for a moment.
"You are right, if it wouldn't be too much trouble. Just for a few weeks until he gets the hang of these last few spells we've been practicing. I can tell that he can do it…" McGonagall paused, looking pointedly at Blaise, "if he just concentrates."
"I'll do it, Professor. It's fine."
"Thank you Miss Granger. You're dismissed."
Blaise slung his bag over his shoulder, and he and Hermione left the room. Blaise was walking briskly down to the Great Hall when he heard someone call his name.
"ZABINI!" Hermione yelled from behind him, running to catch up.
"What?" Blaise said viciously, turning around so Hermione practically ran into him.
"Ow…Look, meet me in the Common Room after dinner. The sooner you get the spells, the sooner I can stop tutoring you," she said curtly after catching her breathe.
"You make it seem like I want to be taught magic by some Mudblood trash," he replied harshly.
Hermione didn't even flinch. In addition to gaining curves, she had learned not to care about the Slytherin insults. "Just be there at seven thirty Zabini." She turned and walked around Blaise and into the hall.
Hermione slid down between Ron and Harry, dropping her bag onto the floor, and putting salad onto her plate.
"What did McGonagall want?" Harry asked, smiling at her as she sat down.
"I have to tutor Ferret boy's best friend," Hermione said simply.
There was a loud clang from her left. Ron dropped his fork. "You have to talk to that git?"
"It would seem that way."
"Hermione, how can you take this so calmly?"
"Ron, I share a Common Room with him, he's in all my classes, and I've talked to him before. Besides, he's not as bad as Malfoy as far as I can tell," she stopped seeing Ron's face of disgust. "I'm not saying that I want to be friends with him, but Dumbledore's right about the unity thing, I'm not going to loathe him until he gives me reason to." And with that, Hermione stood up, slung her bag over her shoulder, picked up a role and left the Great Hall.
Hermione climbed up four flights of stairs, walked through two corridors and up another set of stairs and finally stopped in front of a painting of a rather large man sitting on a thorn bush and complaining about the thorns up his arse.
"Fluffy roses," Hermione said to the man as he stood up to pull out a thorn from his thigh.
"Yeah, yeah…" he muttered, and the portrait swung open.
Hermione entered the Common Room, sighing slightly. It was a miracle that she was taking her situation calmly. She had the rumors about Blaise's family. About how he was to progress the Dark Lord, how he was capable of doing magic most wizards could only dream of, wandless magic, how he could burn you by just looking at you if he became mad. It was then that Hermione wondered about Blaise Zabini. If he was such a powerful wizard, why did he need a tutor for Transfiguration?
The truth was, although Hermione had been expecting McGonagall to assign her as Blaise's tutor, she hoped that he wouldn't be as bad as Malfoy. But, if the rumors were true, he would be ten times worse. It was also true that Hermione had matured a lot over the summer, physically. Emotionally, she was still hurt and vulnerable towards the names and the teasing her peers so ruthlessly threw at her. Even though she put up a tough act in public, she spent most of her nights writing miserable entries in her journal, her only refuge, although never once shedding an actual tear. And subconsciously, Hermione knew it was only a matter of time before at some time she would burst into tears and pour out her soul to someone, she just didn't know who and when.
(a/n: I know I repeated the thing about Blaise's family but I wanted to emphasize that fact! Please r&r)