AN: I'd like to note now, that I absolutely love Blaise. At least, in most stories. I was going to make him shy in this one, but confident Blaise works oh so very much better. I like it when he's sexy and full of himself. He's a very fun character to play with J

Hermione Granger was sitting in her room quietly reading one of the books prescribed for this year's Defense Against The Dark Arts class when she began to hear a steady beat coming up from the common room. She checked the time and realized that it was barely a minute after the study time she insisted on. She sighed and put her book away. Just as she was about to go down and see what all the commotion was about, there was a knock on her door. She sighed and opened it up.

Blaise was standing there, smiling at her. He was wearing a striped suit jacket with a black shirt on underneath and black pants. He was also wearing a fedora, which was askew. In one hand he held a bottle of what looked like a muggle cooler. She could tell that he hadn't started drinking yet, the bottle was still closed and he didn't have the disposition of someone that had been drinking. Blaise walked into her room.

"You should come and join the party." He said, sitting on her bed. "It's one of Draco's big bashes. They're always great."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "If Draco's the one throwing it, I'm sure that I'm not invited." She said. She sat beside him.

Blaise smiled again. "No, really. He told me to come up here and get you. He invited Weasley and Potter, too."

"Are we talking about the same Draco here?" Hermione asked, still not quite believing Blaise.

"Yes, we are." Blaise replied. "Draco's not such a bad guy, especially when you have to live with him. You guys have to live with each other for the whole year and he doesn't want to have problems. He wants to get through this year without too many mishaps. If that means he has to invite a few people he'd rather not to his party, then he'll do it."

That served as something to think about for Hermione. She'd never thought Draco would be the type to compromise, but she was easily being proven wrong. Blaise raised an eyebrow at her and offered her the closed bottle. "Want to go?" he asked.

Hermione took the bottle between her hands and touched it lightly. She'd drunk before, but it was only celebratory, at home with her parents. It had never gotten to the point of drunkenness. She twisted the top off and brought it up to her lips, taking a small sip. Deciding that she liked the taste, she took another sip, then offered the bottle back to Blaise.

"Now kitten, that one is for you," he opened his jacket in a conspiratorial manner and revealed another bottle of the alcohol in a pocket nestled against his chest. "And there's plenty more where that came from." He winked at her and stood. "Shall we go, milady?" He held out a hand for her, which she took gratefully.

"Just promise me you won't let me do anything stupid." She said, taking his hand and standing up.

He pulled her against him and spoke into her ear. "I'm not promising you anything, Miss Granger. Acting stupid is what drinking is all about." He said. She could smell the lightest hint of alcohol on his breath, informing her that she had been wrong about his sober state earlier. It also explained why he was being so forward with her. Not that she was complaining of course… "I will keep an eye on you though, and I won't let you shag some drunken slob." He moved away from her and grinned, not saying anything more, but leading her out the door.

A few hours later, Hermione had lost count of the amount of bottles she'd polished off. She reached for another one and looked around the room. Moira was sitting with a group of other Ravenclaws, laughing about something or other, her friend Solette was straddling Dean, who had quite the look of ecstasy on his face and oddly enough, Harry and Draco were sitting together on a sofa, drinking and talking about the good old times.

Hermione smiled. Everyone seemed to be getting along fairly well which was a good thing because for the most part they were all supposed enemies. She looks around again, catching the eye of Blaise. He walks up to her, grinning. "Enjoy yourself?" he asks. He chuckles again at her vigorous nod. He stops her as she reaches for another bottle. "I think it's time we get you to bed, kitten. You do have to wake up tomorrow morning you know and judging by the pile of bottles around you, you'll have a deadly hangover." He puts out his hand and she takes it.

"I don't know how you're going to be much of a help Blaise. You're just as drunk as I am." He helps her up and smiles a little embarassed..

"I'd say more drunk." he slurs. He puts her arm in his and leads her toward the stirs, both of them stumbling a little on their way.

The fnally managed to get themselves up the stairs and into Hermione's room. She struggled to remember the password for a few minutes but they were let in after a few stumbles. The two walked into the bedroom with relatively no mishaps and Blaise went directly over to Hermione's bed. Hermione walked over to the mirror and studied herself. Her eyes were over bright and slightly glossy, he cheeks were flushed and her hair hung a little more limply than before. She turned away, somewhat ashamed of the amount of alcohol she'd taken in. She walked over to the bed and threw herself onto it next to Blaise. "Merlin, I am never drinking again." she said.

Blaise laughed, deep and rich. He rolls over to look at her. "Draco says that everytime, and everytime he gets wasted."

She sighed. "Isn't there a potion or something to cure this? My head feels fuzzy and I don't like it."

"There's a charm," Blaise answered. "But the caster has to be sober, or else it'll just make you more drunk." He continued looking at her from his place above her. "Good luck finding someone here that isn't thouroghly intoxicated."

Suddenly, Hermione got a horrible look on her face. Apparently she'd been drinking for far longer than she'd originally thought. She sprung up from her bed and muttered something that sounded like "I think I'm gunna..." then dissapeared into the washroom. Blaise smiled ironically and let himself down, with gentle care, because his head was already beginning to hurt.

When Hermione came back in, Blaise was lying in the centre of her bed, his harms folded beneath his head and his legs crossed. His eyes were closed and he was wearing an adorable little half-grin. "Blaise..." Hermione said.

"Mmhmm?"

"You're in my bed."

"Mmm I know."

"I need to sleep there."

"Ok." he shifts over a little, so that there's more room on one side of him. "Is that better?" he asks, cracking open an eye.

"No, that doesn't work." she said. She walked over to the side he was mostly on and grabbed his wrist. She tried to pull him off but either she was too drunk, or too heavy. She sighed and walked back around, then climbed into the bed next to him. Then Hermione tried to push him off, he barely budged.

"It's not going to work." Said Blaise, cracking open an eye and looking at her.

"So you're just going to stay here, in my bed?"

"Yep."

"Fine, I'm too drunk anyway." She said as she settled down next to him.

"Too drunk to care if I do this?" he asked as he leaned over and kissed her. He tasted like dill pickle chips and cheap booze but at that moment, as his tongue pressed into her mouth, Hermione couldn't think of anything that tasted better. His kisses were sloppy, clumsy even and he groped at her in a way that reminded her that this was not what she thought a kiss should be like. It wasn't unpleasant, it was just nothing like she'd expected.

One of Blaise's hands came up and his fingers traced her cheek as he continued to kiss her. Hermione allowed her eyes to flutter shut. His other hand came up and tangled itself into her hair and he rolled himself on top of her. A few moments later, he pulled away to look into her eyes.

"That was nice." She admitted, smiling up at him. He pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. She wiggled underneath him and he rolled off of her. This time, she propped herself up on her arm to look at him. "Wanna do it again?"

His answer, though non-verbal was unarguably a definite yes.