Chapter 4

Ginny crumpled the sheet of parchment, making a face. It was the fourth time she had attempted—and failed—to write her Transfiguration paper on Animagi. Every time she attempted to write, she would get about half-way down the page before she became sidetracked and a large spot of ink formed in the center of the parchment. The worst part was that it was always about the same thing—or rather, the same person: Blaise Zabini. Who would have thought the unknown Slytherin would have had such a hold on her mind? She hadn't even known who he was until earlier that year!

Then there was the fact that she was supposed to be in love with Harry. She had been for six years; why should anything change now that Blaise was in the picture? And Hermione was against it! She had actually taken the initiative to corner Ginny in her room, confronting her and forcing her to answer. Well, she supposed Hermione hadn't forced her—after all, she always had a choice. She just couldn't say no to Hermione, probably because the girl always had the best of intentions.

So now she was sitting in the middle of the library, trying to work on her Transfiguration paper, and ending up staring at nothing and contemplating just what she was getting herself into.

She was in love with Harry. Blaise was simply a means to an end, and he was playing his part wonderfully. It wasn't as though Blaise didn't know she was using him. And he was planning everything, which was great, because planning was something she had completely forgotten to do. She tended to jump into things without thinking about them—which was what she had done with this. But it was too late to change her mind about this.

Blaise was planning to stop by later, when he had finished eating dinner, and study with her. She knew that their walk earlier in the day had not gone unnoticed, and she had purposely sat with some first and second years at the dinner table so that Ron, Hermione, and Harry wouldn't be able to talk with her—if they even bothered, of course. She wasn't certain they had heard yet, though, and Hermione certainly hadn't said anything else. Then again, Hermione might be waiting to see where Blaise would go to make sure they weren't planning an illicit rendezvous in a closet or something.

"Deep in thought, I see," Blaise said, setting his books on the table with a loud "clunk." She jumped, looking up at him as he sat down and then at her paper—which now had a large ink stain on it. She sighed. "Why the long face?"

"I'm trying to work on my Transfiguration paper and I keep getting distracted."

"By what?" he asked, setting his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his interlaced fingers. His black hair was neatly combed, a part on the right side—his left. She felt a sudden longing for Harry's unkempt locks, and suppressed her sigh.

"This," she said, motioning between them. "This plan. I think it's working. Did I tell you that Hermione confronted me about it in my room this morning?" Blaise shook his head. "She said something about how I shouldn't be 'getting involved' with Slytherins. She said you might hurt me."

Blaise's eyes narrowed. "Did she?"

"Yes!" Ginny answered, incensed. "She just barged right in and questioned what my business was with you."

A corner of Blaise's mouth turned up into half a smile and he reached out, putting his hand over Ginny's. She almost questioned why, but she saw movement out of the corner of her eye—Harry. "Ginny," Blaise said, his voice soft, but not quite a whisper. She was relatively certain that Harry could hear them. "I really like you. Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

She smiled at him, trying to imagine he was Harry, knowing that a more genuine smile would come out if she were imagining that. "Of course."

Blaise grinned then, leaning over and kissing her cheek. "I'll meet you in the Great Hall, then, all right?"

She felt herself blushing, not quite knowing why. This was Blaise! It was Harry she loved, Harry who should be making her blush. But Harry was over there, walking towards her as she nodded at Blaise, who picked up his books and left, smiling. She stared after him, questioning why she was staring at all. Harry was walking towards her, frowning. She was of half a mind to get up and walk after Blaise and figure out why he made her blush with a kiss to the cheek—and her heart race and a pleasant feeling tingling her belly.

But she stayed, because it occurred to her that this was why she was playing this game with Blaise, and if she didn't stay she wouldn't find out if it was working or not.

"Hi, Ginny," Harry said, standing next to her and shifting from one foot to the other.

"Hi, Harry. Did you need something?" she asked, pulling a fresh sheet of parchment out of her bag and poising her quill above the page. She tried to look up at him with the air of someone who could be doing something else besides deigning to speak to him.

"Er, can I sit down?"

"Of course," she said, sighing loudly and laying her quill beside her parchment. She leaned her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her interlaced fingers, unconsciously copying the pose Blaise had adopted just minutes earlier. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to speak. Had it worked? Did he believe that she liked Blaise, and that Blaise liked her?

Harry sat down in the seat Blaise had just vacated. He paused a few seconds before saying, "How are you, Ginny?"

"Fine. Why do you ask?"

"Why can't friends talk to one another every now and then?" Harry asked.

"I don't remember us ever being friends, Harry," Ginny said, letting her hands fall into her lap and straightening her back. "I was your best friend's little sister for five years and your girlfriend for two months, but I don't remember ever being your friend."

"Ginny, what do you think you're doing, hanging out with Zabini?" Harry demanded, his eyes narrowing. He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "He's a Slytherin, Ginny. And he's Malfoy's cousin. You know what Malfoy's done to us. Zabini's uncle was responsible for the Chamber of Secrets, Ginny."

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "Do you think I don't know that? I'm not stupid, Harry! Blaise is nothing like Malfoy, nor Lucius. Blaise is my friend, unlike you, and he happened to ask me to go to Hogsmeade with him. I said yes. So maybe you should mind your own business!" She glared at him. How dare he? "You know, Hermione said nearly the same things you did. At least she had the tact not to bring the Chamber. But still, both of you are prejudiced beyond belief. Just because Blaise is a Slytherin and his mother is a Malfoy does not mean that Blaise is the son of Hades. I would think that you, of all people, Harry, would know not to judge people by their labels."

And with that, she gathered all her things into her bag, ignoring Harry's protests, and left the library.

It hadn't been an act. Her response had been entirely genuine. Blaise was a friend, whatever else he might be, and he wasn't evil. He had no Dark Mark on his arm. Granted, she had forgotten that it was Lucius Malfoy who was responsible for the Chamber, but it didn't make any difference. So what if Blaise was related to him? She was certain everyone had some evil villain in their family tree. It didn't change who that person was. Blaise seemed a genuinely nice person, if nothing else.

It wasn't until she had reached the door that she realized there were still two hours till curfew and she now had no place to study. She sighed, opening the door to the library and deciding to just head back to Gryffindor. If nothing else, perhaps she could get to bed early.

Blaise saw Ginny come out of the library, her brow knit in thought. He smiled and fell into step beside her. "How did it go?"

Ginny glanced over at him. "Oh, hello. It went… Well, I suppose it depends on what it was supposed to go like. His response was like Hermione's—'what are you doing?' and 'He's a Slytherin.' I can't believe this is Harry and Hermione we're talking about. I thought… Well, now that I think about it, I don't know what I thought. I really shouldn't be surprised, though, should I?" She looked slightly confused now. "I chose you because they would disapprove. Didn't I?"

"From what I remember," Blaise said, thinking back to when she had followed him from the Great Hall, "You chose me because I was related to Draco, and I was a Slytherin. That, you said, would get Potter's attention. Which it obviously has. So yes, I believe you did succeed in what you set out to do."

Ginny sighed. "I really shouldn't be shocked at their reactions then. I can't believe I responded the way I did to Harry. I nearly ran out of there, I was so upset. I can't believe I'm so upset about the way they're reacting about this while if they were reacting well about it, well—"

Blaise noticed Potter was behind them. He cursed inwardly, hoping Potter hadn't overheard too much, and reached over to take Ginny's hand, effectively stopping her from speaking as her eyes widened. He grabbed her bag from her other hand and smiled at her. "Don't worry about Potter, Ginny. He's a big boy. He can take care of himself."

She smiled sweetly at him, squeezing his hand. "You're right, Blaise. But where was it you said we could study? We obviously can't study in my common room, as Slytherins aren't allowed, and I couldn't study in your common room—can I?"

"No," Blaise said, shaking his head. Damn, but this was fun. He was relieved Ginny had come up with something that could shock Potter thoroughly. "Gryffindors aren't allowed. But I can see what I can do to change that rule for you, Gin. In any case, it would be too crowded in there. There's an unused classroom on the second floor, right next to the room Professor McGonagall uses for Transfiguration." Potter was still following, the git. Didn't he have anything better to do than stalk his former girlfriend and best friend's sister?

"Oh, good," Ginny said, smiling again. Not that she hadn't really stopped smiling.

"There shouldn't be anyone else in there, and there aren't any classes going on, so we shouldn't be…" he smiled, releasing Ginny's hand and putting his now-free hand on her back, rubbing circles on it. "Interrupted."

Ginny shivered underneath his touch, and he suddenly wished that this wasn't a game, that they really did like each other as more than friends or acquaintances. And that Ginny wasn't in love with Potter, who, he could see, scowled, obviously disgusted by their display, and stopped following them.

Which was actually rather stupid in itself, since if Potter had kept following them, he could make sure Blaise didn't do anything to endanger Ginny.

But Blaise didn't stop rubbing circles on Ginny's back, and when they reached the classroom he had spoken of, he stopped and turned towards her. Their heads were level, and he stared into her eyes—a light brown he supposed would be called 'mocha' by those who were more romantic than he—as he reached up, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear. Then he shifted his hand to the back of her neck and leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers.

It was… well, he supposed it simply was, as there wasn't very much he could do to describe it. He dropped her bag and put his free hand on her waist, pulling her flush against him. She was kissing him back, and when she groaned, opening her mouth, he took it a little farther. She didn't disagree, instead slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with so much force he nearly went over backwards.

Seconds later they broke away, gasping for breath. Blaise grinned at her, brushing a thumb over her lips. He wanted to say something but he didn't know what.

Ginny glanced around behind him, frowning. "Where's Harry?"

Blaise didn't even try to stop the disappointment from flooding his senses, though he did keep it from showing, being a Slytherin to the core. "He stopped following us a few corridors back, when I mentioned the classroom and being 'interrupted.'"

"What was that, then?" she asked, letting her arms drop and stepping back.

Blaise looked at her for a minute, contemplating his answer. "Practice."

Ginny raised a brow, but didn't say anything more about it. Instead, she said, "All right. Are we going to study?"

Blaise raised one shoulder. "Do you need any help?"

"Not really. If I really have problems I'll ask Hermione. I think she has all her notes still from my year. I don't usually have problems, anyway, except in Potions and Transfiguration. We didn't have anything in Potions, surprisingly, and Transfiguration I just have an essay, which is easy. Nothing practical." Ginny smiled.

Blaise smiled back. "Then I'll leave you to your work. Good night, Ginny." He leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss across her lips, before turning and walking away. He wished he could know that she wasn't imagining Potter as he kissed her—but if it wasn't for Potter, this charade never would have started in the first place.

"Good night, Blaise," she said. Was it only his imagination that he heard a slight wistfulness in her voice?

Author's Note: Opinions! I love opinions. Suggestions are welcome, too... Though I actually have most of this fic planned out, I haven't quite decided who Harry's in love with yet. Do I go with the obvious (Cho), or do I do something...shocking? (grins)

Disclaimer: If I ever tell you I own these characters, please hit me over the head with a frying pan and ask me to gather my sanity.