In Which Dinner is Discussed.

Ron and Susan practically stumbled into the kitchen, lips still partially attached. However a giggle and a trip on Susan's part made them brake apart and look around.

"Bloody hell!"

Hermione and Blaise broke apart swiftly. They didn't seem too bothered to have been caught, (although Hermione was rather pink.) Instead they were staring at Hannah.

"Did you get her drunk, Weasley?" asked Blaise in disgust, staring at Susan. To the outsider it would appear Susan had just passed the tipsy stage; she was pink in the face, and giggling, looking rather unsteady; thus holding somewhat precariously onto Ron's arm.

Ron, however, seemed as surprised as Blaise.

"She was normal a minute ago," he stated, looking sideways at her, attempting to avoid looking at her smudged lipstick. She giggled and opened her mouth,

"Low tolerance," she smiled manically, "that and I'm rather giddy after Mr Weasley's kiss." She eyed Ron with a definitely sultry gaze from the corner of her eye. Ron looked sideways at her, blushing.

"Oh the burning!" Hermione said flatly, taking another sip of her cocktail. Blaise stared at her across the kitchen table.

"Don't be so bloody sarcastic!" he exclaimed; though he seemed more impressed than anything.

"Don't be such a hypocrite; sarcasm is one of your hobbies." It appeared after extreme alcohol assumption Hermione's tongue loosened. She was by now on her second of Seamus cocktails which no one really knew the alcohol content of. Blaise snorted; she was right and who was he to argue when she was perfectly willing to snog him continually?

"I'm hungry," Susan announced happily, almost falling into a chair beside Hermione at the table. Ron stood and watched her.

"The Chinese should be here soon," Hermione said, absently flicking a bit of dust from her table.

"Chinese? I like Chinese," said Blaise. He turned and looked at Ron,

"You like Chinese, Weasley?" Ron seemed startled at the random question.

Did someone just say something about food?

"What's it taste like?" he asked, he'd honestly never had it; did he really need to with his mother still sending him food?

Blaise shrugged, "All ethnic and foreign. Expensive and er," he shot Hermione a look; she was stirring her cocktail serenely. "Nice."

"Nice?" Ron thought, "I'm in."

"Good- otherwise you'd be drinking neat Vodka for dinner," Hermione said, draining the rest of her cocktail in one. Blaise stared at her.

He's never been more aroused in his life.

Hermione Granger, so clearly out of her depth that she was resorting to sarcasm and alcohol. Pink in the lips and the cheeks, lipstick somewhat smudged.

Quite abruptly the doorbell rung.

"Get that, Weasley," Blaise ordered. He grabbed Hermione's hand, just as she looked up and pulled her bodily off her seat.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked loudly as he dragged her out of her kitchen and through the lounge. Everyone in the lounge turned to stare at the scene.

"I'm getting you drunk then shagging you senseless."

Hermione allowed herself to be led.

In Which Hermione gives Herself

"I- we probably shouldn't be doing this," Hermione said breathlessly, being dragged up the stairs of her house. In truth she couldn't care less.

"No," Blaise agreed, pulling her towards him as they reached the top of the stairs. She was flushed, with matted hair and smudged lipstick, her cocktail still in hand. She was looking invitingly innocent, brown eyes looking straight into his, worry etched in them.

"But it's bloody fun, isn't it?" he grinned. Hermione grinned devilishly and eagerly accepted his kiss. The kiss was perhaps a somewhat cheeky move on Blaise's part; if she can't tell what you're doing, then she can't refuse. He was somehow managing to lead her down the corridor while kissing. Hand's to clothes, mouths to lips, deep breaths, moans, stumbles and drink spillages.

It was the most spontaneous and downright naughtiest thing Hermione had done in her life.

She dragged him from going into the room on the left into her bedroom.

"Bathrooms are only good for afterwards," she said primly, pulling him in and locking the door. Blaise's eyebrows twitched, had she had a personality bypass? Then he realised, the cocktail. And for a slight moment he wondered if what they were about to do was right with Hermione just past sober.

The moral side of his brain closed down when Hermione walked towards him, un buttoning her shirt as she went. His mouth went abruptly dry, watching her work magic on her buttons with those fingers and…

He groaned loudly as she slipped her shirt off her shoulders to reveal a black lace bra. It wasn't particularly sexy, nor particularly simple; it was Hermione, darker than one thought, but still not quite all. She threw the shirt off to the side and gently undid her plait, still walking very slowly towards him. She reached him a few seconds later, clad in only a skirt and bra and god only knew what underneath.

She stood about an inch in front, grinning in annoyingly coy way which was meant to turn him on.

He was turned on.

He was beyond turned on, he was beyond horny. His moment with Hermione Granger had come and it was going to be perfect. She closed the inch gap between him and abruptly grabbed the front of his trousers. She grinned at his load groan.

"Is that just your wand or are you pleased to see me, Mr Zabini?" it was the oldest line in the book, but coming from her mouth.

"Actually," Blaise said, voice somewhat strangled. "I suppose you could say it's both."

Hermione grinned up at him and took her hands away, beginning to swiftly unbutton his shirt. He would have just about collapsed if he hadn't known her hands were busy doing something else worth while.

The shirt was discarded swiftly and Hermione stared at his chest, grinning.

"Very nice," she said appreciatively, running a hand down it. Blaise smiled and lifted her chin up with the smallest of glances at her beasts.

"I prefer yours."

Their lips were together again, a mish mash of hands tugging at zips and buttons, clothes flying, deep breaths, whispers of love and small laughs.

They were lying on top of Hermione's bed, staring at each other totally naked until Hermione spoke loudly and clearly, looking directly at Blaise. Her eyes were wide, skin tinged pink and her hair a mess.

"Make love to me, Blaise."

A/N: This chapter has been a bit longer in the pipelines because I've had school exams all of this week. I hope to be posting about 3 more one-shots from now over the next couple of weeks- I have some challenges to set up.

This I estimate to be about half way through- and I ain't stopping now

Thank you for reading,

Ellie