Sympathetic Me, thank you so much for your review, this chapter is for you:

Chapter 3

Blaise sat in the far corner of the pub, observing his three former classmates, still not knowing how to confront them. He noted how much they were enjoying themselves, laughing and talking as if there was nothing that could harm them, and he began to rethink his intrusion. Their lives and his couldn't be any more different. Feeling neglected, Blaise began to grow angry at the situation he was in, but more specifically furious with Draco and himself. So he unwisely started drinking.

-

Ginny was on her way to the pub Harry had mentioned to her, slowly walking down the cobblestone street, enveloped by thoughts of the evening and what awaited her in the future. Suddenly she felt alone; Colin had been such a good friend and now would no longer be a major part of her life. It was not like they wouldn't see each other anymore, but nevertheless it would not be the same.

After a few more minutes walk, she caught sight of the pub and quickened her pace. It would be nice to have the company of her older friends, despite having to listen to Ron's foolish babbling concerning her well being, as he often seemed to forget that she was a grown up woman.

Unexpectedly, the door flew open and a pair of burly men pushed a tall, dark haired boy roughly out of the pub, who turned to face them, swaying slightly and taking a few steps backward.

He opened his mouth, but instead of shouting at them, he began laughing.

"What the hell are you laughing at?! What the hell is he laughing at??" One of the men from the pub started getting angry, already clenching his fists.

"Hahahaha.. you!" The dark haired boy managed to answer, between his fits of laughter.

The man from the pub looked like he was about to explode, apparently not used to being laughed at by a drunk. Ginny found this to be interesting.

Taking a step forward, the irate man punched the boy right in his face, who immediately dropped down to the street, holding a hand to his eye and slamming a fist on the ground.

"Leave him," insisted the other broad-shouldered man, seemingly nervous that the boy was going to strike back, and pulled his friend back into the pub.

When they were gone and the pub's door was closed again, Ginny slowly approached the boy sprawled upon the ground.

He groaned and turned over onto his back, his eye still concealed behind his hand. And in that instant, she recognized him.

"Blaise Zabini?" Ginny briefly thought that she was mistaken in his identity, but he reacted to her inquiry, lifting his head slightly to see who was talking to him. After studying her features for a few seconds, he began smirking and let his head fall back down onto the street with an audible 'thump'.

"The Weasley girl. What a pleasure."

"Can't return that." He looked up at her again and snorted.

"Funny." He rested his head on the ground again, and Ginny noticed his tired eyes looking up into the night sky.

"What's so funny?" she demanded. He was acting extremely peculiar.

"This situation. Never thought the roles would be distributed like this, seeing as you're a Weasley and I am… well."

At this she felt her anger grow, but kept her attitude cool.

"Everyone gets what they deserve."

He let out a short laugh.

"Sure."

"What's your problem, Zabini?" she frowned and looked a bit confused, having every reason to be. Why the hell was a Zabini, – no, correction – a wasted Zabini, lying on the ground in front of a pub and acting like he didn't give a shit? Wait a minute. He never gave a shit, yes, but there was something different about him. He would never let himself fall apart like this and not give a shit. This was not the Blaise Zabini she knew.

"What's yours, red?" he said with a smirk. Well, that was certainly the Blaise she knew. Ginny sighed and turned to leave inside the pub.

"Good bye, Blaise." But for some unfathomable reason, he didn't want her to go.

"Hey, Weasley." She continued walking towards the door, ignoring him.

"Weasley!" She was about to turn the door handle, when he became desperate and suddenly jumped up behind her and grabbed her wrist, which made her turn around again, glaring at him.

"Alright, alright: Ginny. Ginny, would you please finally stop!" He looked at her with tired eyes, swaying slightly.

"What do you want, Blaise?" she asked, annoyed, and tried to discern what he was looking at, as his eyes were unfocused and gazing at something behind her. She turned around just in time to see…absolutely nothing, so she turned back and waved a hand in front of his face.

"Blaise?" Now he frowned a bit.

"Blaise!" His eyes finally centered and he looked her straight in the face, though he still held her wrist. For a moment, he actually looked as good as ever, and Ginny found herself getting lost in those dark, deep eyes.

"What's wro.."

"I see stars," he interrupted her and began to smile.

"Stars? Oh, ehm… Well, maybe you should sit down. Come on." She guided him to the curb, helping him to sit down, and since he didn't release her wrist, she was forced down with him.

Ginny surveyed him, watching for a sign of recovery, but he just alternated between keeping his eyes closed and staring at the street in front of him, all the while not letting her go.

"Ehm, Blaise?" she tried carefully after a few minutes of silence.

"Yes?" his eyes wandered slowly down to his side, and when he caught sight of his hand holding her wrist, he let go immediately.

"Sorry," he apologized quietly, but then let out a short laugh.

"Are you alright?" she asked, and he was stunned to hear a note of concern in her voice. Why would she be worried about him – it wasn't like she was his friend. Not that his friends were worried about him either. He blinked and suddenly felt pain around his eye. When he brought his hand up to the sore spot he hissed, and jerked his hand back. All of a sudden he felt a cool hand touch his chin and turn his head ever so gently. Ginny examined his black eye and stated:

"That is going to hurt, that is." He watched her with a disbelieving expression.

"You think so?"

"Yes, most definitely," she said seriously.

"Well thank you, red, I would not likely have found that out for myself."

"You're welcome."

After a moment of grinning slightly at each other, Ginny broke the silence.

"Now, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" she asked, not breaking eye contact. Blaise began to look tired again, and his eyes flickered down to her mouth before he stared at the ground beside her.

"Nothing's wrong, red."

"Sure."

He looked up at her, smiling and exhaustion still haunting his eyes and lining his face.

"You better get home and get some sleep; you look like shit," she said, stroking his shoulder briefly, then pulled her hand away as if she had burned herself. Why was she touching him? They had hardly ever spoken a kind word to one another at Hogwarts, and now he was sitting there, wasted – yes, but smiling at her and actually behaving. Sort of.

Blaise merely nodded and turned his head toward his feet. Ginny stood up to leave, but after a few steps she turned around, and observed that he wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon. She considered for a moment whether to ask him if he needed help, but he would surely refuse to talk to her about it, even if it was obvious. Maybe he was avoiding getting home or perhaps he didn't have anywhere to go. Ridiculous, why should that be? He had a rich mother, a huge home, but… she suddenly thought of Malfoy – having almost the same background, but a terrible family. Something strongly resembling pity surfaced towards the boy sitting downtrodden upon the curb in front of her.

"Blaise?"

He didn't answer, so she walked back to him, and crouched down beside him again.

"Listen… ehm… do you need a place to stay for the night? I could help you out, if you'd like me to. My roommate just moved, so there's a room where you could get some rest – there's even a bed."

What was she doing? She had lost her mind somewhere that was for sure. Just say no!

"Ah no, that's fine, you don't have to worry about me," he assured, smiling at her, but looked a bit taken aback by the request when he turned his head away again.

"I don't worry," she answered, defensively, not wanting him to believe… well… whatever his Slytherin mind was concocting.

"You do," he stated and smirked down at his feet.

"I don't!" she insisted again, quickly becoming furious.

"Yes, you do. Why else would you offer me a place to sleep?" Now he looked up at her, a self-satisfied grin overcoming the fatigued countenance.

"Because I try to help people, if they need it! Nothing you would understand anything about." She mumbled the last part more to herself than to him, breaking eye contact.

"Alright then, I'll take your offer." She met his expectant gaze, her mouth opening at his unexpected acceptance. This was not supposed to happen. How did this… oh yeah. Right. Her fault.

It was his turn to wave a hand in front of her pallid face.

"What? ... Oh. Right. Okay then." she said, suddenly unsure of herself and how she was going to handle Blaise Zabini – he wasn't anything like her friends. And that was precisely when she suddenly remembered who was waiting for her inside the pub.

"Oh…"

"Oh? Are you revoking your offer?" He looked like it wouldn't surprise him.

"No. No, it's just that… I just have to… Just give me a minute, alright?" She jumped up and half walked, half ran to the pub. As they were in Muggle London and couldn't just Apparate as they pleased, Hermione had come by her car. Muggle transports were apparently good for something, besides tinkering with them like her dad did. Fortunately for her that Hermione had driven to Colin's going-away party by car, so if Ginny asked nicely, she could maybe persuade Hermione to drive Blaise and her home too.

She located her friends immediately and didn't even bother to say hello to Harry and Ron, but instead dragged Hermione away from her inquisitive friends to another empty table.

"But how am I going to get him to my apartment?" Ginny asked, shaking her head after she had recounted the story to Hermione, who reacted rather calmly. Well… after the two or three outbursts, that was.

"He is in an awful state; I'm sure he can't Apparate anywhere. And I feel a bit drunk…"

After a few moments of intense thinking, Ginny discovered a scheming side of Hermione she never thought she would see.

"There's only one way out," Hermione declared, determined in whatever she had just planned, and looked toward Ron and Harry.

-

"OUH! RON!! STOP IT!"

"Ggginny! Why'd you hime on the head?"

"Because that was my leg you just kicked!"

Hermione had had the brilliant idea of getting her boyfriend drunk and persuaded (or threatened – Ginny, wasn't sure) Harry, to help her bringing Blaise and Ron home by car so they would not ask to many questions about the whole situation.

They managed to get Ron in the back with Ginny in the middle and Blaise next to her. Harry was sitting on the passenger's seat and looking pissed.

"Ive had enuf. Where's the bloody door, I'm going there onfoot!!" Ron slurred, fumbling for the door handle.

"No, you're not!" Ginny pulled his arms away from the door.

"What is going on back there?!" Hermione shouted at the siblings, clearly worried about fratricide.

"Don't worry; I'll see to it that the right one survives." Blaise answered with a wink at Harry, who had turned around in his seat, glaring at the Slytherin. He shifted again, piercing Hermione with his intensely green eyes, while Ginny and Ron continued quarreling.

"Maybe I should change seats with Ginny."

"Absolutely not! I am not going to watch you kill each other in the back of my car! And YOU TWO SHUT UP THIS INSTANT!" At this both Ginny and Ron jumped slightly in their seats, but kept frowning. After they were sure Hermione had returned her concentration to driving, each Weasley ended the fight with one last kick, while Blaise looked out the window, trying to hide his grin.