Blaise spent the early afternoon in his dorm room finishing up his potions homework before going down to the Great Hall. If he'd really wanted to analyze it Blaise would have realized that he looked for Hermione at the Gryffindor table because he wanted to see her. Instead, he blamed it on the fact that he had to walk past the Gryffindor table to get to his seat at the Slytherin table anyway. This was bullocks as he could've easily just walked around the Hufflepuff table and saved himself the time.

He was beyond frustrated and it was all that little witches fault. He had officially lost all self respect as he sat at the Slytherin table during dinner starring at the Gryffindor table like a lost puppy trying to catch a glimpse of Hermione Granger.

None of that mattered though, she wasn't there. She hadn't shown.

Blaise's mood had gotten sourer as he stared at the happy faces of Nicola, Ron, Harry and Ginny - none of whom seemed at all concerned that their friend was missing. His brow furrowed in consternation. It didn't occur to Blaise (second only to Hermione in their year) that they weren't worried because they knew where she was.

He sat in sullen silence, waiting and waiting to no avail. It wasn't until dinner was over and he looked at his watch – 6:30pm – that he decided to head to the library and be early for his meeting with Hermione. With a quick nod to his friends he snatched up some tarts and cookies, wrapping them in napkin, and headed towards her chair in the library.

In the time it took Blaise to walk to the library from the Great Hall his frown deepened. He wasn't looking forward to seeing her. In fact he was dreading it despite his trying desperately to get a look at her all day. He'd felt sick all through Arithmacy, a nervous knot all through his stomach and sweaty palms to top it off. She'd been too close but not close enough. Why couldn't he get her out of his head?

Blaise shouldn't have been as surprised as he was to see her already in the library, her nose stuck in a thick book and ink stains on her fingers. If she noticed him walk up and sit in the chair across from her she didn't show it and Blaise decided not to bother her. She was probably still mad at him for earning them extra homework anyway.

Blaise sat silent and still, leaning back with his head tilted down so he could watch her behind his bangs. She'd pulled most of her hair back but it had spilled out so small strands framed her face. Her brow was pulled together in concentration, but rather than making her look stern it just added to her bookish beauty. While most of the girls in their year were spending their mornings practicing charms and glamours to make themselves look beautiful and flawless with caked on foundation and gaudy red lipstick Hermione did nothing. There wasn't a speck of makeup on her lovely face which made you notice it even more. She didn't lay out her clothes or choose stockings with care; you could tell by the way her shirt buttons weren't lined up that she just didn't give a damn.

She wasn't gorgeous like the Pansy Parkinson's or flawless like the Parvati Patil's of the world. Hermione granger was timeless.

Blaise was startled from his observations when she finally spoke, still refusing to look up. "Zabini."

"Granger," Blaise was proud of his Slytherin ability to hide his emotions; he didn't want her to know how she made him feel. He didn't want anyone to know.

Silence took over and the only sound was the scratching of her quill. Could she feel the tension between them? How charged the air was? Probably not, he thought annoyed.

He reached into his bag pulling out a book on the History of Celtic Runes and began to read. Much to his annoyance Blaise got through an entire four chapters before Hermione finally acknowledged him again. It was exactly seven o'clock when she put her quill down and looked up at him, clearing her throat loudly.

Blaise slowly finished his sentence and took his time responding to her, trying to annoy her as she'd annoyed him. It worked. She looked exasperated with him and he was pleased to note that when their eyes met she flushed a pale pink.

"After the amount of work you earned us today you could at least take this seriously," Hermione glared at him and Blaise tried not to laugh at her frustration.

"Pardon?"

She sighed loudly. "You're Arithmacy texts? You could have started working on the project while waiting –"

"I do have other homework to do, Granger. Since you obviously weren't ready to work on it I decided to take care of some other reading I had to do."

"I said seven Zabini."

"And now it's five after. You do know how to waste time chatting," he spoke before she could interrupt and berate him and his audacity "Or would you like to ask me how my day went before we start?"

Hermione shut her eyes and seemingly counted backwards from ten. Blaise just smiled, crossing his arms. Finally, after a moment Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out their first project, their goal was to finish it off so they could start the new ones over the next few days.

Blaise didn't tease Hermione for another hour and a half. She was so earnest in her desire to do well in school and he wanted to get the work done just as much as she did. Besides, it was nice sitting there across from her, no scathing remarks and no snide comments. She even laughed a couple of times - a sound that ate into his gut - when he told a joke.

They had finished almost the entire booklet, four pages left to go, around quarter to nine when Blaise looked up. Hermione's stomach had grumbled and she pressed her hand against it in embarrassment. Blaise chuckled and her face flushed. She looked down at her work, refusing to meet his eye as Blaise reached into his bag and pulled out his crumpled napkin of goodies.

"Miss dinner?" He posed it as a question though he bloody well knew she hadn't been in the Great Hall. It was better to pretend ignorance than admit he'd been watching for her.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow in question, staring at his offering and making no move to accept it.

Blaise sighed and unwrapped the napkin, showing her the cookies and tarts he'd placed inside. "It's food, Granger."

She smiled a little and accepted it, giving him a jolt as her fingers brushed against his. She made no move to eat it at first, just eyed the offering.

Blaise smirked at her, catching her eye. "You might want to be careful; it did come from the Slytherin table. I heard a rumor all the foods the same no matter which house you come from but you never know." She laughed and picked up a cookie.

"A rumor huh? Sounds plausible. Thanks Zabini. I missed dinner trying to get my homework done and forgot to bring any snacks." He nodded his head in acknowledgement of her thanks, leaning back in his chair so they could indulge in a short study break. Her next words made him blush. "Besides, I'm not nearly as skilled at conjuring spells as you are."

Conjuring spells a reference to Saturday night.

"Being in Slytherin gives you a lot of practice. You never know when you might need something out of thin air." Blaise smiled at her and crossed his legs, dangling his foot on his knee.

"Hmm. I think they should cover that subject more. I remember we only touched on it in Charms." Hermione reached for a tart, her cookie already finished.

"It was something I picked up at home."

"Must be nice," Hermione muttered and then blushed.

Blaise was confused. "What must be nice?"

Hermione swallowed her pride and spoke up, her Gryffindor bravery sparking up as she was about to admit something deeply personal to the Slytherin boy. "It must be nice learning spells at home. My family are Muggle born so they couldn't teach me anything even if they wanted to."

Blaise had never really thought of the advantages he had over others. If he had in the past it might have frustrated him, knowing this girl with no such advantages had taken him out in every subject they'd ever shared. But he didn't get jealous now, all he got was curious, something that went against his house nature.

"How do they feel about you being a witch?" Blaise asked tentatively, unsure if she would answer.

Hermione looked taken aback at his question, as she should be. Slytherin's didn't care about Muggle born as a rule. But rules were made to be broken. "Well, they're proud I suppose. I think they were a bit worried at first, but now they think its fine."

"They must be proud. After all, you are first in our year." He blushed a little at that. As second in their year he should resent her, not praise her. Blaise shifted his gaze so he could look at the paper in front of him. Too bad his eyes passed her lips on the way down. God, she had such amazing lips …

"Well, your family must be pleased too; after all, you're second in our year. That's something to be happy about." Hermione brushed a few crumbs from her lap and leaned back in her chair.

"Oh, they are." Blaise avoided the topic of his home life. Somehow, he didn't think telling her how disappointed his family was that he was second to a Gryffindor – a Muggle born Gryffindor! – would help any. "They're especially happy I'm ahead of a Malfoy." He added that in, figuring it would please her and happy with the results.

Hermione covered her mouth when she laughed. It was cute. "Are they really?"

"Of course! The Zabini's have never been remarkable, and for my family's youngest son to be ahead of the only son of one the wizarding world's most respected and revered families is something of an honour." Blaise lifted his eyebrow and offered Hermione one of his most dazzling half smiles. She blushed again and blinked. It was so nice to speak to her without the animosity of before.

"I bet Malfoy just loves that you're so pleased."

"Oh God no, but of course I've never told him. He thinks the wide grins on my parents' faces at the train station are because they are happy to be seeing him." This earned him another laugh. Blaise smiled and leaned back, crossing his hands behind his head.

Both Hermione and Blaise heard the door shutting at exactly the same time, and the way they both half leapt out of their seats would have been funny if there had been someone there to see.

"Did you here that?" Hermione's eyes widened.

"Madam Pince must've just locked up", Blaise looked down at his watch and frowned. "It's already 10 o'clock."

"Oh dear," Hermione began the impossible task of stuffing her books gently into her bag, hurriedly trying to get all of her things together so she could make a break for the door without being caught past curfew.

Blaise slowly packed his things away too, frustrated that things had to end now after they had been getting on so well. "She must not have seen us back here." He tried at small talk but Hermione was far too worried. Head Girl! Out past curfew! He could almost hear her brain ticking as she imagined every possible scenario. She probably thought she would lose her badge after being caught breaking the rules, Blaise smirked.

Hermione stood up and Blaise stood too. They began to make their way slowly to the Library doors, careful not to make any noise. When the lights finally went out about ten minutes after the doors had been locked Hermione jumped and let out a little yelp causing Blaise to laugh. They made it out of the Library safely and were sneaking down the halls when Blaise tried again at small talk.

"So …" Bad start. He tried again. "Would you like to meet again tomorrow?" Blaise didn't look directly at her instead choosing to watch her from the corner of his eye.

"Oh no."

Blaise stopped dead in his tracks. No? But they had been getting on so –

"It's Mrs. Norris." Hermione's spoke in a panicked whisper just as Blaise heard a malicious meow. That damn cat!

"Run." Blaise grabbed Hermione's hand, too worried about Filch to even think about the tingles spreading up his arms from the touch of her fingers. They bolted down the Hall, turning a few corners and trying to get out of Filch's way, if only they knew where he was coming from. Filch had been twice as bitter this year and Blaise had a feeling it had something to do with Potter and Weasley making it to seventh year without any real punishments. Rumor had it Filch was determined to catch them at something, anything to get Dumbledore to let him punish them.

"Quick, in here!" Hermione said while pulling Blaise into a side door. Funny, he'd never noticed a door here before. They both crammed inside the small, cramped room. It looked almost like a broom closet with just enough space for four people.

The only sounds were the two of them breathing. Blaise was sure the coast was clear when he suddenly heard a wheezing coming from outside the door. Filch. Surely he would find them in here. Blaise's heart beat faster and he could hear Hermione as she sucked in a deep breath.

The wheezing got louder as Filch ran down the hallway, and then surprisingly got quieter as he ran right past the door. Blaise was bug eyed. He hadn't caught them.

They waited out the silence for several minutes before Hermione finally tried the door. Nothing happened. She tried it again. "Oh no, no." Hermione groaned, twisting the knob harder now.

"What is it?" Blaise stepped forward.

"It's locked."

"Locked?"

"Yes, locked from the outside. I can't seem to open it." Hermione banged her head against the wall.

"That's impossible," Blaise said, pushing her hand aside and trying the door. It didn't budge. He took out his wand and tried alohomora which did absolutely nothing. "How is this possible?"

Hermione started to mutter, her face darkening into a scowl and her frustration showing. "How could I be so stupid? I just can't believe it. I can't believe it!"

Blaise leaned back against the wall, listening to her mutter. She was angry and the nice, pleasant Hermione he had been dealing with earlier was gone. He watched her go back and forth and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. She went on for a while, causing both of them to get tense.

"Ugh! I can't believe I'm stuck in here! What in Merlin's name was I thinking, wishing for a room with a locked door?!"

Blaise only shrugged, watching Hermione from beneath the fringe of his hair as she walked – no, paced – across the floor over and over. The room was small, and so she only made it three or four steps before having to turn around, but that didn't discourage her. He had no idea what she meant by wishing.

"It's not that bad," Blaise finally spoke, his words interrupting her muttering and causing Hermione to whirl around and glare at him as if this were somehow his fault.

"Not that bad? How can you possibly say that? This is horrible! We're stuck in a room the size of a bloody broom closet with no idea how to even get out! This is absolutely the worst thing that could've possibly happ-"

"Bet you wouldn't mind as much if you were in here with Weasley." Blaise's eyes narrowed, much to his annoyance, as he spat out the words. Jealous again, he was annoyed with himself.

Hermione 'harrumphed' and then snarled back at him, "Bet you wouldn't mind if you were in here with that perfect little Nicola."

Blaise shrugged again, "I don't mind being stuck in here with you."

Hermione had no idea what to say to that, so she only gaped up at him as he leaned against the wall, opening and closing her mouth like a fish.

Blaise's mind snapped silently, though his demeanor didn't change at all, not giving Hermione a clue as to how angry he suddenly was. "What the hell is it you girls see in Weasley anyway? What the hell has he got going for him? He's not smart. He's not talented. He's nothing!" What does he got that I don't? Did he say the last part, or just think it, Blaise wondered, watching Hermione's face as she took in his words in shock.

"Ron is loyal, and a wonderful friend! He's sweet and he cares! He may not be brilliant but he tries! What I don't understand is what you two see in Nicola! She's nothing but a slutty student with an accent!"

Blaise barely moved, but with his small movement he shifted so that he was no longer leaning against the wall and it made him seem so much more intimidating to Hermione, as he now towered over her.

"I see nothing in Nicola, not since I met you," Blaise hissed, the words barely a whisper that he wasn't even sure Hermione was hearing. Her face didn't change, but her eyes widened as he slid his hands around her arms, gripping her tightly in frustration, "But I see everything in you."

He kept his eyes open right until his lips met hers, and then they shifted closed. Her lips opened beneath his and he groaned, sliding his hands down her arms until he held her wrists, he pulled her closer so that she was right up against him, and then he pressed her against the wall. His neck hurt a bit, the way it was bent so low just so he could kiss her, but he wasn't about to pull away when he had finally gotten this far.

Hermione brought her hands up and lightly placed them on the front of his robes, Blaise let go of her wrists wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up so that he could relieve the pain in his neck, he brought his knee up and had her straddle it so that she could sit comfortably, her feet not touching the ground.

He licked her lips and then groaned when she opened her mouth for him. God, if he'd known all along how wonderful it was to kiss Hermione Granger he would've started a whole lot sooner.

Hermione dragged her mouth away from Blaise's, stopping their kiss. He could feel her dragging in deep breathes, trying to calm herself down, and that was the last thing he wanted. He moved his mouth down her neck, kissing her softly, urgently. Blaise moved his hands down her arms as she shut her eyes and made a whimper in the back of her throat.

"Blaise, we have to stop …" She said the words but she didn't stop and she made no move to stop him.

His gut clenched uncomfortably and he moved his mouth slowly back up her throat until he reached her ear. He whispered hotly into it, his lips moving against the lobe. "Please Hermione." He felt her body stiffen slightly, but he knew that he couldn't let her go. Just this once he needed her, than he could finally get her out of his brain. He pressed himself closer to her and said the first thing that popped into his head, "Pretend I'm someone else."

Hermione opened her eyes and looked deep into his, searching his eyes for some answer to her confusion. What does he mean; he could almost hear her thinking. He could feel her resistance melting as he rubbed her arms up and down, his thumbs brushing against her breasts each time. "Pretend I'm someone else," he repeated. "Anyone else. Weasley." He kissed her neck again, not wanting to see her eyes as he pleaded with her.

She sighed and he knew that she was giving in. And even though he'd said the words and asked her to do it, he wished desperately that she thought of him, only him, as they continued to kiss.