Rain

By forbiddenlight

Disclaimer: All situations, characters, and sayings below are either owned by J.K. Rowling, myself, or another source if noted at the end of the chapter.

A/N: Thank you to all those who reviewed. This is not my favorite chapter, but the ending's okay.

ShadowFairy101: Thanks. I will be sure to keep up on posting chapters. Please continue reviewing!

LadySnake: I think you're going to like it. I already have the majority of the plot made out, and I will finish it, I assure you.

cathyrock: Wow is a very defining word. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'm glad you got how sad and intense it was. I hope there are a lot more people like you out there! And don't worry; this story has a twist… But I can't say anymore now. Oh, and thank you! You were my first reviewer!

And, again, be sure to take note of the names in bold. That is very important to the story.

Ship: Blaise Zabini/Hermione Granger

Genre: Romance/Drama

Chapter Two: Discovery At The Lake

Blaise

"Brown, Lavender?" Binns called out, monotone.

"Present!" Brown peeped out. Patil laughed. Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and their little group of friends glared at them.

"Granger, Hermione?"

Silence.

"Granger? Ms. Granger! Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, where is Hermione Granger?" the Weasel shrugged and Potty-Head glared at his friend. "She's at her dorm, er… Sick, yes!"

Blaise continued his sketch of Draco Malfoy. He was quite an artist. "Move over a little, Drake. The light is too much." His blonde-haired friend leaned towards the left. "Perfect."

Professor Binns finished the attendance and began collecting papers. He walked up past Draco to Blaise. Blaise hid his sketchbook under his notes. Binns wasn't smiling.

"Mr. Zabini," he said sternly. "Where is your 12 inch essay on the Civil War of 1206?"

"What essay?" Blaise retorted casually, as if Binns had just asked him what time of day it was.

"What essay, Mr. Zabini? What essay? The essay, Mr. Zabini. I gave it to you three days ago. Now, where is it?"

"Oh, that essay," Blaise concluded. Pansy Parkinson stared at him as if he was buried treasure. "Well, Professor, it isn't here because I didn't do it."

"Detention, Mr. Zabini! And a zero!" Binns called out. He floated up to the front of the classroom, his silvery complexion dotted with a gray, which may have been red. "Mr. Zabini, detention here in my office tonight from 4-6!"

"But I'll be missing Quidditch practice!" Blaise replied madly.

"You should have thought of that when you decided you didn't want to do your essay." Binns told him.

Blaise turned red in his face. "Damn," he said under his breath. "I'm the lead chaser. I have to be there."

Draco looked sympathetic. "Want to think of a way to get out of it?"

"Nah," Blaise sighed. "Filch'll be at my toes."

XXXXXX

"In here, Mr. Zabini," Binns commanded as Blaise walked up to the door. "You will be hexing quills. I need 600 quills with the anti-cheat spells on them for the pre-final in three months. You need to complete at least 125 in 2 hours. The incantation is Vledimulair. Make sure to roll the 'r'. I will be sitting here, grading papers, so don't even think about trying to run away. Take this chair by the window."

Blaise rolled his eyes. Spelling quills wouldn't be so bad, and he would be able to look out the window. He loved watching nature. Maybe this wouldn't be so awful…

An hour and forty-five minutes later Blaise could no longer feel his hand. He had said the incantation so many times (114 times in fact) that it had fixed itself into his brain and he could no longer think of anything else. "Vledimulair," he repeated for the 115th time, setting the now spelled wand on the growing pile on the floor next to him. He was staring out the window as it had begun to rain. His fingers itched to put down his wand and fly out the window into that hard, heavenly drizzle…

"How many have you spelled, Mr. Zabini?" Binns asked from the other side of the huge stack of papers on his desk, dragging Blaise out of his thoughts.

"Uh, freak, Professor, I don't know," the soon-to-be-seventeen-year-old answered while rolling his eyes. "Maybe 120."

"Good, good, well, go ahead. It's 5:45, but I think you got the message. I want you to be sure that you turn in that next essay or it will be 5 detentions, Mr. Zabini! Five detentions!" Binns called after him as Blaise raced through the door heading out to the grounds.

The wind welcomed him onto the grounds, along with the rain. He felt alive once more, and no longer felt irked by the constant spell giving. He could feel all of his limbs again, and he felt at home. He could feel at home anywhere in the rain.

He walked over to the gardens, enjoying the feeling of rain on his skin. He wanted to head to the same place he had been the day before. But as he walked into the garden, he found himself witnessing a very disturbing scene.

"Drake? Chang?" He asked, shocked.

Draco Malfoy and Cho Chang looked up at him, alarm all over their red faces.

"Uh, well, hi Blaise." Draco stuttered softly.

"You know him?" Cho demanded.

"Yeah, he's my best friend. Hey, look, Blaise, can you keep a secret?" Draco asked him coolly, now that he had regained his composure. Blaise nodded. "Cool. Look, Cho and I have been dating since she and Michael Corner broke up at the end of last year… I'm sorry, I should have told you."

Blaise chuckled. "It's okay. I'll leave you two alone. Bye." And with that last speech, Blaise scurried out of the gardens, smiling. No wonder Drake had always been gone so much lately- he was out snogging the Asian Ravenclaw princess.

Blaise headed up to the lake. He went there sometimes, as the garden was often full of lovers. There was a boulder there he liked to sit on. It was dark out, and his vision was limited. But he was able to make out the figure of a girl who was about his age sitting on that boulder.

He recognized her, but only because of her curly mane of brown hair. It was Hermione Granger.

What alarmed him even more was the fact that she was sobbing. And not even just a small cry, but loud, heart-ripping screams. That type of crying. It shocked him. She had always struck him as a confident person, never too emotional. But he was suddenly angry for some odd reason. Who had dared to make a girl like her cry so hard?

He'd rip that fellow's guts out the very first chance he got.

Blaise approached her cautiously, but she didn't seem to see him. Finally he was right behind her. The rain was coming down harder than ever, but she was dressed in only a grey camisole, a light cloak, and a pair of light jeans. No shoes. He ached for her. He sat down next to her, and only then did she seem to notice him.

"Hermione? Are you okay?"

forbiddenlight