Part One.

Both Blaise and Hermione were sitting in the very back of the library, at a small round table by the Muggle Literature Section. Hermione looked devastated as she had just gotten home from the Hogsmeade Trip and had had to endure hours of Ron and Nicola. Blaise on the other hand was feeling decidedly uncomfortable and upset. He had just kissed Nicola and had felt nothing. In fact, the entire trip to Hogsmeade he had sat with Malfoy and stared at Hermione Granger as she tried to put up a brave front in the face of Nicola and Ron together.

This brought forth a startling realization for Blaise, and it bothered him like nothing else.

They had only really hung out a couple of times in the six years they had gone school together, but it seemed it had only taken that short amount. And now here he was, sitting with her in the dark corner of the library where there was absolutely no chance of anyone coming to see them. Sitting with her and feeling her presence, in fact, he was oblivious to everything else except her. It was infuriating.

"You know," Hermione began, speaking softly but still interrupting him from his thoughts, an interruption he was grateful for. "She isn't really even that pretty." She didn't have to specify who she was talking about - they had talked of nothing but Nicola and Ron. And her words were bitter and they made him laugh.

Hermione turned her head slightly so that she could glare at him properly and that made Blaise laugh even harder. "Granger, you know she's pretty."

Her eyes blazed and this made her look even prettier to Blaise, a thought which he instantly tried to squash down. He wasn't supposed to find her pretty.

"You're not supposed to be complimenting her," Hermione glared even more; "You're supposed to be helping me figure out how to break the two of them up!" Blaise laughed again much to the frustration of Hermione.

And than he did something so typically Slytherin he figured he must've ripped out a page from Malfoy's book. He pulled out the mickey of Fire Whiskey from his bag that he had purchased in Hogsmeade.

Hermione stared at it for a minute before her eyes widened comically and she looked up at him. "You're not supposed to have that!"

Blaise laughed at the very flustered and nervous Hogwarts Head Girl and used his wand to make two shot glasses appear on the table. He knew that if caught they would get in a lot of trouble, but Blaise also knew that they wouldn't get caught. They were in one of the farthest corners of the library, even the librarian never felt the need to venture there. After all, Hogwarts students rarely checked books out from the Muggle section so there was hardly any need to put books back there.

"Relax Granger. We won't get caught." He began to unscrew the bottle but she put her tiny hand on his wrist, detaining him and sending an unwelcome jolt into the pit of his stomach.

"But I'm Head Girl! I can't –"

"Then don't," Blaise interrupted, shaking her hand off him and pouring himself a sizeable shot. "I just had to sit through two and a half hours of watching Weasley and Nicola, and I feel in great need of a drink. If you don't want one, then don't have one." Blaise knew he was lying, even before the words came out. He wasn't drinking because of Nicola, the reason he was drinking was sitting right in front of him. But she didn't need to know that. He smirked at her, as she stared incredulously at him, and then downed the first shot. The Fire Whiskey was true to its name and burned his insides pleasantly as it made its way to his stomach.

Hermione stared at him for a moment more as he made a brief sound of pleasure at the delectable taste of forbidden whiskey. With a loud sigh of defeat Hermione reached over and poured herself a small shot under the watchful eyes of Blaise. She glared at him defiantly and then tossed it back. The second the whiskey hit her throat she began to cough and sputter, doubling over and leaning against the table, gasping for air. She obviously wasn't much of a drinker.

Blaise laughed heartedly as he patted her on the back, tears nearly coming to his eyes he was laughing so hard. Hermione brought her head up slightly and glared at him, her own eyes glazed over in tears in reaction to the drink. He laughed even more.

"You better keep your noise level down Ms. Granger; we'd hate to have Madam Pince come over here to investigate."

"Maybe you should take your own advice Mr. Zabini and stop laughing then," she growled back at him, sitting up straight in her chair and acting as if she had not just choked. He laughed again and than poured another two shots while looking curiously at her to see if she would stop him. She didn't.

"Besides Granger, what better way to plot the breakup of Hogwart's cutest couple than drunkenly slurring over some Fire Whiskey?" He smirked at her in challenge and knew that he was grating on her nerves, it pleased him to be able to ruffle her feathers. She looked so cute when she was angry.

Blaise blinked. Hermione Granger wasn't cute. And he needed to stop thinking about her that way. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, he thought as she sipped her shot. He wanted to laugh, but was too caught up in his own thoughts.

"Stop staring at me Zabini, obviously you've deduced that I don't drink much, and I'd rather not make too much of a fool of myself." Hermione glared at him, taking another small sip. This time he did laugh.

"I wasn't staring at you," he lied smoothly. "I'm just trying to figure out how we're going to make Weasley dump the lovely Nicola for you."

She flushed angrily and he knew he had struck a nerve. Her fingers tightened around the shot glass and she tossed it back with minimal sputtering this time. "Do you have any sort of plan in mind Zabini?" Hermione said after putting her glass down and leaning back.

"None that could possibly work," Blaise joked, taking out his wand and muttering an enlargement spell so that the shot glasses became regular glasses. Hermione's eyebrow raised as he conjured up a bottle of cola and began to mix them some drinks. She didn't reply to his joke, just sat there scrutinizing him. "Now who's staring," Blaise muttered.

"I'm just trying to figure you out Zabini." Hermione leaned into the desk, taking another sip of her drink. Blaise figured she probably found it easier to talk to him with the alcohol in her system. And judging on how little she had eaten at Hogsmeade (not that he had been watching …) he figured the alcohol was probably going straight to her head.

"Are you succeeding?" Blaise furrowed his brow after speaking. It seemed to him like he was flirting with her and flirting with Hermione Granger was definitely not something he wanted to do.

"No." Hermione continued to stare at him and Blaise shifted uncomfortably. Why did she have to look at him like that?

He took another sip of his own drink, tilting his head so that his bangs fell over his eyes allowing him to watch Hermione without her seeing anything in the depths of his eyes. "There is nothing to figure out. I want Nicola," - liar, the word reverberated in his mind – "And you want Ron. They're together, so we're plotting to break them apart. End of story."

"Couldn't you break them up on your own? Without my help?" Hermione asked, looking at him with a strange expression on her face.

"Why? Getting cold feet? What about all that talk about Gryffindor bravery?" He taunted, knowing that he couldn't let her back out, not until he figured out a way to get her out of his head.

"No," she snarled and he laughed at how easily she switched emotions. Sure, Hermione Granger may be the smartest witch in their year, perhaps in the school, but she was still a teenage girl and most teenage girls are easily taunted. "I've just been thinking-"

"There's a surprise," Blaise muttered, interrupting her.

Hermione scowled before continuing. "Ron and Nicola seem really happy. And since I'm Ron's friend it doesn't seem right for me to be doing this to him …" Hermione trailed off and Blaise instantly picked up on her lack of conviction. Sure enough, she felt bad about what they were doing, but when it really came down to it she craved her own happiness, happiness she had been searching for six years, and that involved going through with the scheming.

"But you are going to go through with it?" Blaise scowled at the slight hint of desperation in his voice, hoping that she didn't hear it.

"Go through with what?" Hermione was starting to loser her temper and the alcohol only intensified her emotions. "We haven't even got a plan yet!"

"I'm just trying to make sure that you're not backing out on me Granger," Blaise spat trying to quell his emotions. It really bothered him that she was thinking about backing out. He tried to rationalize that they would still have the project to work on but studying with Hermione wouldn't be the same as scheming with her.

"No, I'm not backing out," Hermione grumbled back and Blaise realized he had hit another nerve. It was great, making her angry. Now he knew why Malfoy did it so much. It was almost as addictive as a drug. Hermione took another long sip of her drink as Blaise watched her. "You're doing it again," she growled, finishing the drink and nudging the cup in his direction so he would pour her another.

Blaise poured some more fire whiskey and coke into her cup, his brow furrowing a bit in confusion. "Doing what?"

"Staring," she said, taking the cup back.

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"Does it bother you?"

"I wouldn't comment on it unless it did," much to Blaise's disappointment Hermione ended their playful banter by taking another sip.

The alcohol was really affecting her, hitting her fast and Blaise knew that if he didn't stop her from drinking soon things would get out of hand. So, naturally, being the Slytherin that he is, he leaned back in his chair and watched the know-it-all Gryffindor Head Girl get drunk.

"So it bothers you when I look at you?" Blaise crossed his arms, wanting her to flirt with him and not daring to analyze why.

Hermione took a deep breath and it took her longer than necessary to answer. "No," Hermione sighed. "But it bothers me when you stare."

"Why?"

Hermione tilted her head and seemed to mull this over for a while, as if she didn't even know why it bothered her. "Because," she sighed again and took a big gulp from her cup for courage – something this Gryffindor was losing rapidly in the presence of Blaise. "Because you stare longer than necessary and I don't know what you're thinking which makes you look at me so … so …"

"So what?" Blaise moved so that he was leaning forward in his chair and over the table, bringing himself closer to Hermione, his drink completely forgotten on the table.

"So … lustfully." Hermione erupted into giggles after saying this and Blaise realized she was finally drunk.

Blaise smirked. "Lustfully?" He repeated the word and watched Hermione giggle, a sight he knew he would never get another opportunity to see. "And why do you suppose I look at you like that?"

"I dunno," Hermione slurred between giggles.

Blaise leaned even closer to her and whispered, "Use your imagination."

Hermione stopped giggling and stared at him. The air became charged and Blaise suddenly – acting without any rational thought as he was being led astray by teenage hormones – kissed her.

Their lips only touched for a stunned moment before Blaise pulled a few inches away and searched her face. Her eyes were glazed, her breath was coming fast, and her cheeks were flushed. She was pissed drunk and as Blaise leaned forward to kiss her again he prayed that she was so drunk she wouldn't remember this in the morning.

But at the same time he prayed that she would never forget.

Part two.

Blaise hadn't slept at all last night. It wasn't that he hadn't tried, because he had. He had tried desperately to sleep, but he had only succeeded in lying in his bed, starring at his ceiling. But he hadn't seen his ceiling, all he had seen was her face, floating above him, and it pissed him off like nothing else ever had. Blaise knew he shouldn't have kissed her last night, but he couldn't seem to help himself.

That second kiss had seemed to last forever and when they had finally broken apart he had his hand tangled in her hair and she was playing with the collar of his shirt. He was incredibly aroused and shocked that it had only taken a kiss to put him in that condition and that was when he realized he was playing with fire. Much to Hermione's drunken disappointment Blaise had gotten rid of the alcohol and their glasses with a wave of his wand and without a word had grabbed her by the arm, leading her out of the library like a child who had just broken all the rules.

He didn't look at her at all and didn't speak either, completely at a loss as to what to say.

It had taken him a lot longer then it should have, but by following her vague instructions he had managed to escort her to the Gryffindor common room door and leave her there, not even turning around to see if she had gotten inside.

He hurried off to his own common room and completely ignored everyone inside, rushing to his dorm and drawing the curtains around his bed.

While he lay there he wished that he had not been such a fool and had gotten drunk, at least than he would've had an excuse.

When he walked into the Great Hall the next morning, moving forward like a zombie with his eyes drooping slightly, he unconsciously looked towards the Gryffindor table where he knew Hermione would be sitting, not at all affected by the events of last night. And sure enough, there she was, seated right next to Harry and across from Ron and Nicola. She had obviously used some sort of sobering charm on herself to prevent a hangover and he could see her face light up as Weasley said something stupid and kicked himself for the dark feelings of jealousy that crowded his senses. Zabini's did not get jealous.

But he'd be lying if he said he wasn't.

She glowed, radiating happiness as she sat with her friends. She was completely oblivious to the moody Slytherin who was now taking a seat at his house table, carefully positioning himself so that he could stare at her without attracting notice. She had no idea how he had tossed and turned last night, desperately wishing that he had never kissed her, and at the same time knowing if he could go back and redo the entire night he still would have done everything the same.

She had no idea yet, but she would.