Thank you to everybody who's reviewed so far, hope you enjoy this chapter : -)

Please R and R.

Blaise's head snapped up at the curt words, "Pairs for this one, please," Professor Snape strode back and forth rapping out instructions, the billowing of his voluminous black cape lending more depth than ever to his bat like appearance. The Slytherins clustered about him formed pairs without hesitation, and Blaise was left wishing Malfoy had deemed to appear at the lesson.

He smiled in gratingly up at the Potions Master, hoping against hope he would allow him to work alone.

"No Zabini, you need more than one pair of hands for this one. Who else is bereft?" He turned and peered at the Gryffindors, skimming through them. "Ah, Weasley. Over here if you please," Blaise's line of sight was suddenly blocked, as one of the Weasley family sat next to him. "Thank you,"

Blaise gritted his teeth, as he looked at the red head perched stiffly on the stool next to him.

"Hello,"

"Huh," Ron folded his arms, and looked the Slytherin up and down. Blaise felt his olive skin flush a shade darker, and he shifted away from the other boy to stare pointedly at the front of the class. Snape rattled through the instructions so quickly there was no time to take them down, and hoping he had heard them all correctly, Blaise stood to go fetch some ingredients from the cupboard.

"I'll go,"

"Fine," Ron twirled his wand in his fingers, looking as though he would much rather be using it to hex Blaise.

Half an hour later, the potion was a smooth silver colour as was instructed, and they had finished before anyone else. Blaise squashed some miniscule pieces of root under the flat of his knife, before once more attempting conversation.

"So, um, have a good holiday?"

"What does it matter to you?"

"At least I'm trying here,"

"Huh,"

"What IS your problem?"

Ron looked slightly taken aback as Blaise stood suddenly, his eyes flashing in anger. He flushed a bright red, almost matching his hair and mumbled something.

"I can't' hear you,"

"You're a Slytherin, why even bother,"

"And you are a stereotypical fool,"

"That's it," Ron stood, gathering his books and equipment in to his arms before striding angrily to his former table and joining a shocked looking Harry and Hermione. Blaise kept his head down, trying to calm himself down. He didn't like the Weasly any more than the Weasly appeared to like him, but at least he had tried.

He dipped a finger into the potion, disturbing the cool surface and creating shimmering patterns that danced before him. Sighing, he glanced up to see and extremely smug Malfoy enter the classroom.

"Mr. Malfoy, are we to have an explanation for this untimely arrival?"

"Taking another student to the hospital wing sir,"

"Very well, sit down,"

Draco sauntered over to his usual seat, tossing his bags casually onto the floor.

"Finished already? Good good."

"Where were you?"

"Classroom 16, first on the left as you climb the second set of stairs to the Astrology Tower. I wouldn't go up there though if I were you, it's slightly messy."

He grinned easily, before flicking Blaise on the arm, "What's up?"

"Weasly,"

"The blood traitor?" Malfoy sounded slightly surprised, he raised a single eyebrow.

"Yeah, but it doesn't matter anymore,"

"You are turning into a shadow of the Zabini I used to know," Malfoy commented idly, "You need to get out a bit more, have a bit more fun,"

Blaise pushed a strand of hair back, "Get stuffed,"

"Charming."

"My middle name,"

Leaning backwards, Draco scrutinised his friend. Blaise had been blessed with Italian good looks, brown, slightly mussed hair, smooth tanned skin and dark eyes, so Draco could not understand the lack of interest in the fairer sex. He was always more than ready to lend Blaise one of his cast offs, but his friend always declined.

The lesson dragged its weary feet, but finally it was time to leave the dank dungeons. With relief, Blaise threw his books in his bag and made for the door, Malfoy close behind. They decided to sit outside, the sun was out and the air warm, so they settled near the lake. Most of their year had followed suit, as well as some of the younger pupils, and the morning was full of greetings and catcalls.

Malfoy threw himself on the grass, stretching luxuriously in the sun and fully aware of the number of appreciative sighs that echoed through the grounds as his shirt hitched slightly, revealing a toned, tanned midriff. Tipping his head back, Blaise enjoyed the heat on his face and the feeling of temporary freedom.

"Wow," Draco whistled quietly.

"What?"

"Do you SEE her?"

"Who?"

"Weasly,"

"Weasly is a boy..."

"His sister dumbass,"

"He has a sister?" Blaise propped himself up on one elbow and followed Draco's line of sight. A girl was walking slowly down the main steps, scanning the grounds for somebody with deep chocolate eyes. Her hair caught the sun, as it formed a golden haze about her amber locks that tumbled down to her shoulders. Her figure had developed beyond recognition during the summer, and Blaise caught Malfoy's slight moistening of the lips.

He caught a swift "Be right back," before Malfoy had lept up off the grass and was striding over to the steps. Blaise bit his lip in annoyance, the youngest Weasly was obviously going to fall for his erstwhile friend's "charm," and become the latest of a long line of used females.

***********

I'm just going to flick this strand of hair back, even the sun worships me by turning my hair into pure gold...

"Hi," Gentle smile, quick flick of the eyes and lean gently back against the steps making the legs look longer and profile more pronounced... There we go.

"What do you want?" OK, not the reaction I was expecting.

"A friendly chat is all, some light conversation to while away this beautiful afternoon."

"Uhuh," This has never happened to me before, what the hell is up with this one? Obviously she just wants to be pursued, I can deal with that. Slip behind her, one cautious hand a quick touch to the shoulder. "You ought to be careful; you could burn out here in the sun," Make her think I care for her wellbeing. I should give lessons really. Hm, she's not replying, could her silence be a quiet assent?

Just run the fingers down the arm, she has lovely skin, golden and smooth. This always makes them melt, drop the lips onto the neck and speak against the skin.

"I would hate for you to suffer in any way,"

HOLY SHIT!

She SLAPPED me! What the... what just happened?

What's wrong with her?

Wait, no, it's not, it couldn't be... me?

Am I... losing my touch?

Keep cool, quick; there are some girls over there under the willow. That one will do, she looks alright. Now, lazy smile, a beckon of the fingers...

She's jumped up and now she's following me.

Ah, I still got it.