A/N: Hey! Well, this took a little longer than I thought it would. Mostly because school started and at the same time we were moving into a new house. I hate moving but that's beside the point. Getting to the point, I'm definitely glad to see that people are still interested in this story, judging from the hits and reviews! THANK YOU! Second, pretty much everybody said they'd like to see Blaise/Harry which is major exciting and I'm really looking forward to writing that. Third, by now you've probably figured out (from the way I write and the phrases I use) that I'm American. Some of things I make the characters say probably aren't very in character since they're supposed to be British but I'm not really going to try and censor myself. You've been warned. Lastly, here's chapter five. As you can tell from the title it isn't Rendezvous with the Dragon as I said it would be last time. That's what I was planning on but alas, my muse had other plans. Hope you like it anyway. Review please!

Disclaimer: HP Characters. Mine, no. J.K Rowling's, yes. How's that for a change?

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Ginny Weasely was an avid list maker. Except for her red hair, it was, in her eyes, the only thing she'd inherited from her mother. Granted, the lists her mother made were usually grocery lists or something of that sort while Ginny's often read 10 reasons why so and so would make a good/bad boyfriend. Yet, it did her heart good to know that she at least had one thing in common with her mother. Besides that, Ginny usually found list making to be a great stress reliever, no need to mention the wonders it did for her overactive temper. At the moment she was working on a list entitled 101 Ways to Get Revenge on Blaise Zabini written by Virginia Weasely with valuable input from Teresa J. Chickalini. Admittedly, this was probably the longest list Ginny had ever made but considering the topic at hand and the person in question she knew it would be a long time before she felt even remotely de-stressed.

"Quick, Gin, are you still working on that list?" T.J asked breathlessly, banging the door as she came rushing into the dorm room. Despite what the title might lead one to believe, she really hadn't been much help at all seeing as how she'd become bored senseless with the list and had disappeared even before Ginny hit number 90.

Ginny looked up from where she was still furiously scribbling although her hand had gone numb about half an hour ago. "What?" she asked, as if coming out of a trance.

"The Revenge on Zabini list." T.J said impatiently. "You still working on it?"

Ginny looked down at the parchment on her lap. "Looks that way," she said.

"Alright!" T.J whooped.

Ginny blinked. "What was that for?" she asked.

"Never mind that right now," T.J said hurriedly. "What number are you on?"

"I'm almost done," Ginny said somewhat surprised as she scanned the parchment.

"What number, Gin?"

"Number eleven," Ginny answered. "Why?"

Once again T.J ignored her. "Do you think you can come up with eleven more things in say, the next five minutes?"

"What for?" Ginny asked, confused.

"Just do it," T.J said hurriedly. Shutting her mouth, Ginny complied. She'd learned the hard way that when T.J was in one of her 'moods' the best way to handle her was to do as she said now and ask questions later. She was on number four when she got stuck.

"Okay, T.J problem," Ginny said. "What do you think is worst having to walk around school with hives all over your face for weeks or having the whole school think you have some kind of sexually transmitted disease?"

"Hives," T.J said immediately.

"Really?" Ginny questioned. "Cause I was thinking sexually transmitted disease."

"Ginny!" T.J wailed, looking at her watch.

"I'm done, I'm done," Ginny said hastily writing down the last four items on her list. She'd barely had the time to look at her list with satisfaction before T.J snatched from her and left the room. Ginny could hear her pounding down the stairs and debated whether or not she should go after her. In the end she decided against it. Knowing T.J she'd be back soon enough to explain it all. Ginny glanced at the watch that she kept on her nightstand. It was almost time for Blaise to come over. Funny how the thought didn't send her into a rage like it had for the most of the week. It was amazing how simply accepting her fate could make her feel so calm, so weightless and serene even somewhat sublime. She felt detached from herself and everything else as if she had left it all behind and was on some sort of higher plane looking down. She was making a great sacrifice on her own behalf for the good of the whole- okay that was a bit of a stretch.

At that moment T.J came bursting back into the room with a small sack in one hand. Without even looking in Ginny's direction, she plopped down on her bed and upturned the sack sending a barrage of coins spilling all over her bed.

Well, Ginny decided, that was one way to bring her rushing back to reality. "What are you doing, T.J?" she asked carefully, trying to hold on to the calm she could feel raveling away from her.

"Shhh," T.J shushed her. "You'll ruin my concentration."

Ginny stood up and made her way over to T.J's bed where she sat on top of the coins.

"Ginny, move!" T.J told her.

Ginny shook her head stubbornly. "Not until you tell me what's going on," she replied.

T.J sighed. Before she could start, Ginny interrupted her with another question.

"Where's my parchment?" she asked looking around.

T.J grimaced. "Which one do you want me to start with?" she asked.

"Does it matter?" Ginny asked suspiciously. T.J might be her best friend but there were times when there was no telling what was going on in that girl's mind.

"Not really seeing as how either one of them will eventually lead to the other."

"In that case, start with the parchment," Ginny said.

T.J paused to think about how she would word what she was about to say. "At this exact second I can honestly say I have no idea. Last I knew, it was circulating around the Gryffindor Common Room like wildfire. So much so, I wouldn't be surprised if it's already made it's way to the other houses." She said.

Ginny mulled over what T.J had just told her.

"Look on the bright side," T.J began, taking Ginny's silence for anger. "The list is a huge hit. Everybody's raving about what a work of genius it is. You're going to be the talk of the school for a long time to come."

"Teej, I've been the talk of the school more in this past week alone than in the entire past five years put together." Ginny replied, exasperated. "Forgive me if that thought doesn't make me feel all warm and cuddly inside. Now just skip everything and get to the part where you tell me what's going on."

"Are you mad?" T.J asked.

"The thing is, I've discovered this new methodology where I consider if something's worth getting mad about before I actually get mad; and on scale with the things that have been happening and, bearing in mind I'm about to go to Malfoy's birthday party, things that surely will happen, I'm going to let this one go." Ginny finished.

"That's very mature of you. I didn't really get half of what you just said but it sounded mature." T.J said. At Ginny's pointed look she sighed. "Well, remember how left the first time to go down to the Common Room. I was down there for a while before I was ambushed by Seamus, who by the way, is definitely all ga-ga over you."

"No he's not," Ginny said mildly.

"Yes he is," T.J disagreed. "He wanted to know where you were. I told him you were upstairs. He wanted to know what you were doing. I said you were making a list. He wanted to know how long it would be before you came down. I said-"

"Enough, enough," Ginny said. "Forget the he said, she said for one minute. Where's this all going?"

"You ruin all my fun," T.J huffed. "Basically, he didn't believe the fact that you of all people were actually sitting down, making a list and were not going to budge until you were done."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" It was Ginny's turn to huff.

"Well the gist of it was that you didn't have it in you to actually sit down and not only make a list but also finish it. So I bet him five galleons that you would finish the list. He was about to take me on when Dean, who's never too far from Seamus, butted in and told him not to take the bet since that you probably would finish the list."

Ginny smiled approvingly.

"In about five years from now," T.J concluded.

The smile slipped from Ginny's face.

"So I bet him five galleons that you would be done before the clock hit seven. Since at that time it was a quarter to seven and I'd let it slip that you'd started at number 101, he took me up on it. Seeing that, Seamus of course also wanted in. They started bragging about how it was the easiest five galleon's they've ever made and some other people over heard and figuratively speaking wanted a piece of the pie. Before I knew, most of the people in the Gryffindor Common Room were in on the deal."

"No," Ginny said disbelievingly.

"Yes," T.J responded. "I hate to be the one to tell you this Gin, but your fellow Gryffindorians don't have much faith in you."

"You don't have to say it so gleefully," Ginny muttered darkly figuring out for herself how the rest of the story went.

"Oh yes I do, because this time it worked in my, or should I say our, advantage." T.J said. "You finished the list a full two minutes before seven. I showed them it and thanks to their untrusting hearts we are now fifty-four galleons richer."

"We?" Ginny said. Then the number T.J had just quoted sunk in. "Fifty-four?"

"After all you contributed, you really think I wouldn't split it with you?" T.J grinned broadly. "And yes, fifty-four, more or less. I would've been able to say for sure if a certain somebody had let me finish counting."

"Our friendship is a beautiful thing," Ginny said, slowly starting to smile as she stared at the coins littering the bed.

"You better believe it, sister." T.J returned with her own smile.

There came a low whistle from the door. Ginny and T.J turned around to find Blaise leaning against the doorframe.

"Call it an educated guess, but does that have something to do with the snickers and the heated whispers about some list I was greeted with downstairs?" Blaise asked. "Either that or you two robbed Blakely." Blakely was a Ravenclaw fifth year and his dad was in the oiling business. He was easily one of the richest kids at school and it was rumored that he slept with a bag of gold under his pillow.

"Do you really want to know?" Ginny asked.

"No," Blaise replied frankly. "Just working on my small talk."

"That's what I thought," Ginny replied. Gesturing to the small trunk Blaise had brought with her, she asked. "Planning on moving in with us, Zabini?"

"Hardly, Weasely." Blaise replied, closing the open door with her foot. "I just wasn't sure exactly what I would need to get you ready for tonight."

"Is there some sort of veiled insult in that sentence?" Ginny wanted to know.

"Only if you're willing to look for one." Came Blaise's vauge reply.

"Nah, not this time," Ginny decided.

"Your call," Blaise said. She hefted the trunk onto the nearest bed. "Here's the thing, Weasely, not only do I have to get you ready. I have to get myself ready, then I have to get back to the Room of Requirement and make sure everything is running smoothly in there. And all of this needs to be done in the next forty five minutes. I get the fact that you don't want to do this. You get the fact that you have no choice so just keep your yap shut the whole time and this will be so much less painless for both me and you."

T.J applauded when Blaise was done with her little speech. "That was nicely done. Very diplomatic, considering the tone of your voice suggests you'd like to do a full body bind charm on her and just be over with it all." She said. " You know, I originally planned to stick around to make sure Ginny didn't try to maim you or worse and then skip the country under an assumed name that nobody would guess like, Rose Lynde or Candy Appleton,"

Ginny interrupted T.J's little fantasy with a loud hrumph. "I would not maim Zabini. The thought never even crossed my mind." Liar. She'd only thought about it oh say, fifty times since Blaise had entered the room. "And I was to skip the country under an assumed name, I would never pick something as insipid as the names you suggested."

"Well what would you pick?" T.J asked.

Ginny thought about it. "I dunno. Definitely not something girly."

"What's wrong with girly?" T.J said.

"Virginia is girly enough thank you. I want something strong. Maybe Max Ryder. Like that girl in that muggle book-"

Blaise put two fingers in her mouth and let out a shrill whistle making them both jump. "Hearing the way you two blather, it's a damn wonder you haven't been put in the psychiatric ward of St. Mungo's yet." Blaise said, slowly shaking her head. "Chickalini you were trying to say something about leaving?" it was more of an order than a question.

T.J, however, appeared unaffected. "Was I?" She pondered over her earlier rant. "Oh yeah, I'm going to go get ready down the hall with Parvati and Lavender since all my things are in they're room anyway. We'll stop by you when we're done, kay?"

"Not okay. You'll see her at the party and not a second before that," Blaise answered for Ginny. She opened the door. "Bye."

"Pushy, aren't you?" T.J commented. Despite Blaise's somewhat twisted friendship- if one could call it that- with Ginny, she and T.J hadn't really spent much time around each other.

"It's her middle name," Ginny said dryly. "Right after cold-hearted, manipulative, and royal bitch."

"It beats whiny, mouthy brat, stark raving mad and other lovely adjectives that come mind where you're concerned." Blaise shot back but it wasn't with any real heat. T.J was a naturally curious person and she would've more than loved to study the dynamics of Blaise and Ginny's relationship but since the former had made it very clear she wanted her out that would have to wait for another day.

"Finally," Blaise muttered when T.J left the room. She turned to Ginny. "I assume you've already done the basics- shower, shave?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Ginny asked back.

"I'll take that as a yes," Blaise sighed. She took her wand out. "We'll start with your hair. Let it loose."

Ginny yanked out the tie that was keeping her hair in a messy bun.

"Hmm," Blaise said studying her hair.

"What's that mean?" Ginny said looking at the wand uneasily. "What are you going to do to my hair? You can't cut it. I spent my entire life growing it so there's no way-"

"Shut the bloody hell up, Weasely. I don't want to cut your hair, long hair is in these days."

Ginny started to let out a sigh of relief.

"But I'm definitely going to have to change the color," Blaise continued and just like that Ginny stopped breathing again.

"Change? Color?" she squeaked.

"I'll try to keep it as natural looking as I can, of course but that hideous orange red color has to go. So you have two choices. You can either go lighter to a more strawberry blonde shade or go darker like deep auburn but with a lot more red than brown."

Ginny was still stuck on the words hideous orange red.

"While we're young, Weasely," Blaise said tapping her foot in an edgy manner. "Or else I'll just change my mind about the natural thing and turn you're hair blue."

That seemed to snap Ginny out of it. "You wouldn't dare!" she gasped.

"The way I'm feeling right now, there's not a whole lot I wouldn't dare." Blaise said sounding like she meant every word. "What's it going to be?"

"Darker," Ginny said immediately only because she couldn't imagine herself as any shade of blonde.

"Alright," With an intense look of concentration, Blaise raised her wand and muttered an incantation. For a couple of seconds, Ginny's whole scalp seemed to tingle.

"Hmm," Blaise said signaling she was done. "Not exactly what I was expecting."

"What?" Ginny yelped, standing up so she could go to the bathroom and look for herself.

Blaise pushed her back done rather rudely. "Settle down. I said it wasn't what I was expecting. I didn't say it was bad. Quite the opposite. It's one helluva an improvement."

"Just for the record, I don't trust you," Ginny said still apprehensive but she remained seated.

"Just for the record, I don't care," Blaise replied. "You don't wear your hair down much do you?"

Silently Ginny shook her head.

"Then you're definitely going to leave it down tonight." Blaise decided. "Which is great cos that means I won't have to do anything really fancy with your hair. But I'll add a few curls here and there to make it look like I have."

"News flash, Zabini," Ginny said. "I don't wear my hair down because the minute I come anywhere near a drop of water- sweat included- it frizzes like crazy."

"Give me a second," Blaise said, opening her trunk and pulling out a small bottle. "Anti-frizz spray. The solution to all of your problems. At least the hairy ones."

"Did you get that a Madame Labelle's Magical Beauty Boutique?" Ginny asked naming a shop in Hogsmeade.

Blaise shook her head. "Believe or not, it's a muggle product."

Ginny looked at Blaise with open surprise.

"What?" Blaise said. "Just because I don't like to mingle with muggles doesn't mean I don't appreciate some of their more ingenious inventions. And this is one of them."

"How does it work?" Ginny asked curiously.

"I push this end and it comes out of this end," Blaise said gesturing to the nozzle. "And you stay frizz free for up to twelve hours. Plus, it gives you that freshly washed shine."

"My hair is freshly washed," Ginny pouted.

Blaise ignored her and got to work on applying the anti-frizz. "Time to start straightening your hair," she said when she was done. "Since I've yet to figure out an incantation that will magically do that, we're going to have to this the old fashioned way."

"Well, don't let me stop you," Ginny said sarcastically.

Once again her words feel on deaf ears as Blaise started doing her hair. The old fashioned way ended up taking longer than Blaise had expected so they were running a little behind schedule.

"Make-up, make-up," Blaise muttered to herself as she haphazardly started pulling out tubes and little bottles. She stopped suddenly and whirled around to face Ginny. "Look, how about you put on your on make-up so I can start getting myself ready? You can handle that, can't you?"

"Stop treating me like I'm four, Zabini," Ginny said crossly. "Of course I can do my own make-up."

"Start with foundation to cover up those freckles. Then go over with a light blusher to give your face some color but use this blusher for your cheekbones, it's a bit darker. Use this gloss for your lips," Blaise instructed hurriedly.

"It's clear," Ginny broke in.

"It's nude," Blaise said without missing a beat. "Which works since the central focus is going to be on your eyes. Mascara, eye liner- smudge it a bit so you can get that smoky look-, gold eye shadow to bring out the amber flecks in your eyes, and- eyebrows," she said suddenly.

"Huh?" Ginny said.

"I can't believe I totally forget about the eyebrows," Blaise said, disgusted with herself.

"What about my eyebrows?" Ginny said suspiciously.

"First of all they don't match your hair," Blaise said. "I'll fix that in a second- Where the hell is my wand!" That last bit was more of a shout. Blaise started rummaging around the bed and finally found her wand under a jumble of make-up. "Come here."

"Zabini, if you think for one second that I'm going to go anywhere near you and your wand when you have yourself worked up in a lather – and might I point out that you never get worked up in a lather- then you are farther gone then I thought." Ginny said distinctly.

Blaise let out a frustrated sound. The weasel was right. She was losing control of herself, mostly because she was so nervous about seeing Oliver which was number uno on tonight's agenda, partly because she was still unsure about how Draco would take the plan once he found out. And if there were two things Blaise hated it was being unsure and nervous. They were both ugly, bothersome emotions she could really do without.

"What's going on, Blaise?" Ginny said, shaking Blaise out of her muddled thoughts. The fact that Weasely had used her first name showed how uncharacteristic she had been acting.

"Nothing," Blaise said, snapping out of it. "I've just got a lot on my mind."

"Like what?" Ginny persisted.

"Nothing I feel like telling you," Blaise said harshly.

"It's just a question," Ginny said, a little taken aback. "Don't bite my head off for it."

Blaise sighed. She seemed to be doing that a lot tonight. Of course, she did a lot anytime she was around Ginny. "Look, I know you're trying to be helpful and all but right now the only thing that you can do that might help me is to finish getting yourself ready so we can both be out of here." She said.

Ginny bit her tongue before she could point out that she'd merely been stalling instead of really concerned over Blaise's welfare. She started to make her way to the bathroom with the make-up, when Blaise recalled she'd yet to fix her eyebrows. That quickly got that out of the way and Ginny finally made it to the bathroom where any thoughts of make-up quickly left her mind as she got her first look at her new hairstyle. Ginny couldn't help it, she let out a sort of strangled scream.

"You'll get used to it," Blaise called, correctly guessing what it was that was making Ginny scream.

"My-my-hair," Ginny stammered as she stared in the mirror. She cautiously raised one hand to pat the top of her head and her reflection in the mirror did the same. She'd look in this mirror a hundred thousand times, at least half of the time she'd been doing her hair but back then her hair had looked nothing like this. She had looked nothing like this.

"Try to look at it objectively," Blaise called again hearing no movements coming from the bathroom.

Right. Objectively. Well, Ginny thought, peering at herself, it was certainly a change. Her hair was now auburn instead of ginger. Actually it was too red to be called auburn but Ginny didn't know what else to call it, having never seen this shade of red before. Maybe burgundy or scarlet but that didn't sound right either. It wasn't exactly a bad change, she mused, but it was just so different. Her mother- oh god her mother, Ginny let out another strangled groan.

"Let's not think about that right now, Ginny," she advised herself. "Think happy thoughts. Think positive thoughts." She wracked her brain for something positive about her hair. She finally settled on the fact that it make her look older. More chic, T.J would absolutely love it. That last thought made her grin and did wonders to calm her down.

"You done with the make-up yet, Weasely?" Blaise said from the other side of the door.

"Almost," Ginny replied. Since she'd been in the bathroom for nearly ten minutes and all she'd done was stare at herself she felt a little guilty for that lie. Then she immediately felt stupid for feeling guilty since the only reason she was supposed to be putting on her make-up was because Blaise was blackmailing her into going to the party. For the love of Dumbledore, she was the injured party here! And it wouldn't do anybody good, namely herself, if she forgot that. That little tirade aside, Ginny started to carefully apply her make-up. She was just putting on the finishing touches when Blaise began to bang on the door.

"Weasely!" She all but barked.

Ginny hurriedly wrenched the door open. "I'm done, I'm-" She paused in mid sentence as she got a good look at Blaise. In the time it had taken her to do her make-up, Blaise had managed to do both her make-up and her hair and had even donned on her choice outfit of the evening. She was all decked out in white; her calf length, spaghetti strapped dress, her stiletto heels, even the few items of jewelry she was wearing, all of it was white. Coupled with the fat ringlets she'd curled her hair into- a look that would've probably never worked on anybody else- and the minimal make-up, the effect was stunning. It gave her a deceivingly innocent and sweet air but at the same it oozed sexiness.

"That's the reason why girls like me hate girls like you, Zabini," Ginny said, not even bothering to hide her feelings of envy. "How the heck are we supposed to snag any guy with you looking like that?"

"Oh yeah?" Blaise said cocking an eyebrow. "Well, tonight I have feeling you're going to be one of the girls that are hated instead of the ones doing the hating. Wait till you see your dress." With that she nodded towards the bed.

Curiously Ginny headed over to see what Blaise had selected for her to wear. "Where is it?" she asked.

Blaise rolled her eyes, thinking that Ginny was being sarcastic. "Just put on, Weasely," she said, picking it up.

Ginny's eyes darted from Blaise's eyes to the wisp of black material she held in her hand. "That is not a dress, Zabini." It was too small to be a dress. She'd seen it lying on the bed but had dismissed it for that very purpose.

"Yes it is," Blaise said calmly handing it to Ginny.

Ginny let it dangle from her forefinger and thumb. "How does it even go on?" she said, eyeing it with an appalled sort of fascination.

"It's a halter," Blaise explained with exaggerated patience. "Put on the dress and then tie those two straps at the back of your neck."

"I'm not wearing this," Ginny made up her mind and handed it back to Blaise.

"Stop being a prude, Weasely." Blaise snapped. "You're sixteen not sixty."

"I'm not a prude!"

"Could've fooled me," Blaise snorted.

She was not a prude, Ginny assured herself. Refusing to wear a barely there dress did not make her a prude. She'd just rather not have to explain why she was walking around school nearly naked to Ron. Ginny clasped her hand over her mouth in horror. Ron! That was the best her mind could come up with? All she had done was try and think of a good reason why she shouldn't wear the dress and what had she gotten in return? Ron. Ron! Her older, meddling, annoying brother.

"That's it, give me the dress," Ginny said, already snatching it out of Blaise's hands. She marched into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Some of her bravado wavered as she stripped of her jeans and shirt and started to pull on the dress but she forced any thoughts of uncertainty out of her mind. They came flooding back in moments later when she discovered that the dress had a very low back and the ties- though they looked wide- did nothing to cover most of her shoulders.

"Um, Zabini," Ginny called through the door. "There's something wrong with this dress." ?" Blaise called back.

"Well, the thing is," Ginny hedged. "My bra-"

"Take it off," Blaise interrupted.

"Excuse me?" Ginny gaped at the oak door.

"Your bra, take it off. The dress is meant to be worn without one."

"I can't go braless!"

"Do we have to have this conversation, Weasely?"

"Ooh, I'm going to regret this so much," Ginny muttered as she wiggled out of her bra. With a few more wiggles and tugs, Ginny was as certain as one could be in this situation that everything was where it was supposed to be. She tried to get a good look at herself in the mirror but couldn't see below her shoulders. Mustering all her courage, she yanked open the door and walked out with a scowl.

Blaise looked at her appraisingly and then motioned for her to turn around. Ginny turned.

"Oh yeah," Blaise said slowly starting to smile. "Am I good or am I good? That dress is killer on you."

"Really?" Ginny walked over to the full length mirror to see for herself. "Holy Helga Hufflepuff," she gasped. "That is not me."

"That's you," Blaise said.

For the second time in under thirty minutes, Ginny stared at herself speechlessly in the mirror. On her, the dress looked even skimpier then when she'd held it in her hand. Except for the two scraps that hardly covered her breasts and merged into the halter ties, the top of the dress was practically nonexistent until a couple of inches above her navel. The bodice of the dress was extremely fitted, allowing for one of those rare flashes where she appreciated her willowy figure instead of bemoaned it. From there the dress flared into a twirly little skirt. Ginny wasn't even sure if it could be called a skirt. True to the skimpiness of the dress, the dress ended just below her bottom.

"If I bend over everybody's going to see my underwear," Ginny realized.

"Then you better make sure you're wearing a nice pair of panties," Blaise responded.

"Zabini!" Ginny wailed. She was getting quite good at wailing. Frivolously, she wondered if somewhere in the world there was such a thing as wailing contests, kind of like yodeling contests. "Do something!"

"Alright, alright," Blaise said. She pointed her wand and lengthened the dress by two inches. "That's as long as it's going to get. Happy?"

"Ever since you got me in this mess, I can't remember exactly what happiness is," Ginny remarked. Yet it was an improvement of sorts. The dress no longer looked so skimpy and it even looked sort of sexy. Now that she didn't have to worry so much about mooning the people, she could appreciate the marvels the dress did for her legs.

"Try on the heels I brought so we can finally go."

"You brought heels?" Ginny asked looking at her in dismay. "I hate heels. It's not like I need them anyway. I'm tall enough already."

"You're what 5'7?" Blaise surveyed. "That's a good five inches shorter than Dragon."

"Five inches is not that much," Ginny said dismissively.

"When's the last time you stood toe to toe with Draco?" Blaise countered.

"Not since our last shouting match before he left," Ginny was forced to admit.

"Well a lot's changed since then, including his height. Wouldn't you at least like to be semi eye to eye for your next shouting match?" Blaise said reasonably.

She had a point, Ginny agreed silently. "Fine," she sighed. "I want the lowest heel you've got."

"Fine," Blaise echoed. She gave her a pair of black open toe slide-ons with a low wedge heel. She waited until Ginny had put them on then said, "Now can we go?"

"You know," Ginny said giving herself the once over in the mirror. "I really don't think I can walk out of here looking like this."

Blaise resisted the urge to throttle the girl, but just barely. "You are enough to make even the most sainted of saints want to commit murder," she said.

"I hope you're not suggesting that you're a saint because we both know that's not true." Ginny replied.

"Considering the fact that I'm refraining from cursing you into oblivion when you've got coming, I'm thinking that I might just qualify for sainthood."

"I've got it coming?" Ginny whirled around. "Excuse me? None of this would be happening if it wasn't for you. And when I say this, I'm including every crazy thing that has happened since you blackmailed me into going to this stupid party and I still don't even know why. And yet, keyword being yet here, I haven't done a single thing to harm a hair on your head. So if anybody in this room qualifies for sainthood it's me."

"How do you do that?" Blaise asked, shaking her head.

"Do what?" Ginny asked.

"Manage to get completely off topic and take everyone with you." Blaise said.

"You started it," Ginny accused.

"Let's not get caught up in that," Blaise said, trying her best to sound levelheaded. "Just explain to me why you're deciding to not wear what you're wearing now, when you know there's no time to get you into something else? Or was that your plan all along?" She added suspiciously as the thought hit her. "Well you can just forget it. I'm giving you exactly five seconds to get out the door or I'm calling-"

"That's not what I'm saying," Ginny interrupted, thinking she'd pushed Blaise far enough for one day. "It's just that Ron will most likely be down in the Common Room and if he gets a glimpse of me, not only am I not going to the party, he'll probably owl my mother and I'm going be headed to the nearest convent faster than you can say 'Bottoms Up'. You get what I'm saying?"

Blaise groaned. She got what Ginny was saying alright, she just couldn't think of a way to solve this latest problem. "What do you suggest? You go out the window?"

"Not in this dress," Ginny replied. "But I have an idea. Harry."

"Potter?" Blaise questioned.

"Do you know another Harry?"

"As a matter of fact, I do but that's neither here nor there." Blaise answered. "How's Potter going solve this?"

"Not him," Ginny said. "His invisibility cloak."

"Potter has an invisibility cloak?" Blaise was mildly impressed. Okay, a lot impressed.

"Since his first year," Ginny answered. "Go up to the seventh year boys' dorm and tell him I need it. And before you ask, I know for a fact that he's in his room since he has to study for that Potions exam he's taking on Monday."

"Back up for a second," Blaise said. "Why do I have to- right," she said as Ginny gave her a pointed look.

"I'm sorry. Do you see anybody else in the room?" Ginny added for emphasis.

"And what makes you think he's going to be so willing to just hand it over to me?" Blaise countered.

"Tell him I said it's for the sake of our newfound friendship," Ginny said shamelessly.

"Your- I'm not going to ask." Blaise said. "Give me five minutes."

And with that Blaise left the room. Mindless of the curious stares she was getting and the hush that fell over the Common Room the minute she walked in, she strode purposefully (as purposefully as one could stride in stilettos) to the stairs that led to the boys' dorms. She hurried up the stairs only to realize when she got to the landing that she had no idea which door led to the seventh year boys' dorm.

"Hey," Blaise said as she spotted a boy peering out of one of the doorways. "Which one is the seventh years'?"

She looked so formidable that he immediately pointed to the room furthest down the hall. Without a second glance at the kid, she walked to the room at the end of the hall and rapped loudly. She was getting ready to knock again when the door flew open and Blaise found herself face to face with an extremely pissed off Potter. Something inside her fluttered once, twice and then settled just like it had this afternoon in the Hospital Wing.

"What is it this time?" he bellowed before he noticed who was at the door. "Blaise." He wore a look of complete and utter shock.

Hearing him use her first name gave rise to another flutter. Rattled by all the flutters, Blaise immediately reverted to her old habit; she hid herself behind a façade of nonchalance and aloofness. Plastering a devil may care smile on her face she said, "I know what you're thinking, twice in one day. I must be stalking you."

Apparently Harry was still caught off guard. "Uh, no, never crossed my mind," He walked inside the room and towards his bedside table where he grabbed his glasses and put them on. Blaise resisted the urge to tell him to take them off or worse take them off herself.

Disgusted with herself and her thoughts, she shook her head. "Really? What were you thinking?" she asked causally following him into the room.

"Mostly that it was a damn shame that it wasn't either Seamus or Dean so I could make good on my promise and hex them." He flashed her a humorless grin.

"Feeling murderous, are we?" Blaise said returning his smile.

Harry raked a hand through his untidy raven locks. "You have no idea," he said with a sigh.

"Potions does that to a lot of people," Blaise commented.

"Tell me about it," Harry agreed. "Wait- how did you know-"

"That you're studying for Potions?" Blaise finished. "Weasely told me."

Harry nodded. "Right, the whole hush-hush meeting you two were supposed to be having tonight."

"It's not hush-hush, she's just paranoid," Blaise gave a small grin to soften the remark. "So what exactly are you studying in Potions?" she said effectively changing the subject.

Harry looked at the parchment in his hand with equal parts confusion and disgust. "I'm supposed to be memorizing the names and ingredients of the eight-six manmade antidotes for most animal poisons."

"It's not so bad," Blaise said. "It's not," she added when Harry gave her a disbelieving look. "All you have to do is to figure out a way to organize all the information so that it makes sense and is easy to remember. Here try this," She took the parchment from him and picking up the quill on the bed, she proceeded to explain the material to him.

"That actually makes sense," Harry said when she was finished, amazed. "I take it you're one of the few people Potions doesn't drive up the wall?"

Blaise shook her head. "It's my best subject," she said honestly. "Now Trafig, that's a completely different story."

Harry laughed. "Believe it or not, that's my best subject. Well after, DADA," he said. "You want to make a deal of sorts?"

For the life of her, Blaise couldn't tell what made her ask and flirtatiously too, "What kind of deal?" It certainly wasn't her common sense because at the moment, that was telling her to run away, far far away before she did something completely stupid.

Encouraged, Harry smiled and said, "How about you help me with Potions and I help you with Trafig?" he said.

Blaise almost said yes, almost. It was the first thought that entered her mind. For reasons unknown to her, the thought of spending time with Potter was entirely too appealing. It wasn't like they'd ever actually spent time together in the past. In fact except for greetings and nods here and there, the last time they'd probably spoken, not including this afternoon was- well, she couldn't remember when but that just went to show that it was definitely was a heck of a long time ago. Then her brain started to function again and the ramifications of saying yes flooded her mind.

"Um, I can't. Weasely and I are going out tonight-" She began to ramble.

"Blaise," Harry said amusedly, stopping her. "I don't mean right now. You don't even have to answer right now. I dunno, think of it as food for thought or something."

If that was supposed to reassure her, it didn't. Far from it. Putting it that way suggested that he was talking about more than just being study buddies.

"So what did you come up here for in the first place?" Harry asked, noticing her discomfort with the subject at hand.

Blaise brightened considerably. That, at least, was a safe topic. "Your invisibility cloak." She said.

"My what?" Harry asked, once again caught off guard.

"Your cloak. You do have one, right?" She peered at him a bit skeptically.

"Yes, I do. I'm just surprised that you know that I have one," he replied.

"Don't worry, it's not public knowledge or anything." Blaise assured him. "Weasely told me. In fact, she's the one who wants it."

"Did she tell you why?" Harry asked, confused. Unlike Ron, Ginny never asked to use his cloak so the fact that she was asking for it now, through Blaise Zabini of all people, left him feeling a bit concerned.

"Nope," Blaise left it at that.

"But you know why," his eyes narrowed.

"I'm assuming it's because she doesn't want to be seen," Blaise answered vaguely.

Harry muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'smart aleck'. "Just tell me she's not planning to do something illegal or dangerous." He said.

"Sorry, no can do," Blaise said.

"Why?"

"This is Weasely we're talking about here," Blaise answered. "Since when does anybody ever know what she's planning?"

"Why do you do that?" Harry asked abruptly looking annoyed.

"Do what?" Blaise asked, baffled by his sudden change in topic and mood.

"Call Ginny by her last name when you guys have been friends for years," he said. When she opened her mouth to interrupt he added, "I know, I know you're not really friends. But you spend time together and seem to know each other pretty well and in my book that's friendship. So why do you insist on pretending that that friendship doesn't exist?"

That certainly left Blaise speechless. "That's not really your business, is it?" Blaise she said finally and maybe just a little coldly.

It was Harry's turn to be quiet. "No. no it's not," he sighed heavily. "Thanks for reminding me that."

Not knowing what to reply to that Blaise kept silent.

Harry turned to rummage through his trunk. "Here's the cloak," he said practically shoving it in her hands. Blaise started towards the door but Harry being ever the gentlemen beat her to it. He opened the door for her, "See you around, Zabini."

The use of her last name hung heavy in the air with some unknown significance. It was as if he was shutting an invisible door she hadn't even been aware was open. Feeling hollow, she replied, "See you around, Potter,"

It was for the best, Blaise tried to convince herself as she made her way down the stairs. She still wasn't entirely sure what had occurred between them but she was glad it was over, whatever it was. Because even though she'd never admit aloud, being around him stirred emotions that were better left unstirred. Made her think of things she'd rather not think about. Brought out things in her that she'd thought she'd gotten rid of long ago. And that was the thought that scared her most.

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A/N: And that was the end of chapter five. A little bit dramatic, a little bit angsty and not as much humor as the last but I wrote what I felt was necessary. And I know, we still haven't met the much famed Dragon but I promise you that's the first thing you're going to get in Chapter Six. On the bright side of things, I managed to get in a little more Blaise/Harry interaction and hopefully a little more insight into the puzzle that's known as Blaise Zabini. Apparently our girl's not as ice cool as she pretends to be. Wouldn't the world be surprised to learn that there are actually some things out there that turn the gorgeous, confident and at times highfaluting Blaise Zabini into a confused puddle of uncertainties? And that Harry Potter, Hogwart's Golden Boy, is number one on that particular list? Tell me what you think! As always any type of feedback is welcome!

Till Next Time,

-TDL