A/N: I hurt my finger at swim practice, so I can't really type very well, so sorry if there are some mistakes in here. I'll do my best. Thank you a million and 12 times to my reviewers! I have 95 reviews, which is exciting. Oh, I think I said this in the authors note at the end of the last chapter, but I know Fred is supposed to be dead, but I decided to save him. Pretend he didn't die, okay?

Warning: Some bad language in here. Nothing you can't take.

Dedication: This is dedicated to Margaritalimes, who is a fantastic author (read her story!) and writes great reviews. Enjoy!

The next morning, Ginny woke early, in the gray time just before the first of the sun's rays started to slip over the horizon. Wanting to groan- she could never get back to sleep after she'd woken up, no matter what time it was- she slid out of bed. She was about to head down to the common room when she decided that, since she was up, she might as well get dressed. Grudgingly, she pulled off her warm pajamas and got into her school robes, which were chilly after the cold night.

When she got to the common room, she looked around her. It seemed a bit too big and lonely without it's usual roaring fire and crowd of Gryffindor students. Ginny sat in one of the big chairs near the almost dead fire and sighed. She didn't really want to sit here on her own until breakfast, which was hours away. She was restless and wanted to leave. Well, why not? She asked herself. There was no rule about how early students were allowed to be out of their dormitories. Making up her mind, she climbed out of the portrait hole and set off, not really paying attention to where her feet were taking her. She was on the third floor, in a corridor with slick black tiles, when she realized that she had forgotten to put on shoes. Drat, she thought. I should probably head back to my dorm to go get some, but why bother? It was fun to slide on the tiles in her socks, anyways.

Ginny was laughing as quietly as she could as she skidded on the slippery tiles when she slammed into someone, knocking the breath out of her lungs. She lost her balance, but a strong arm snagged her waist and prevented her from falling. Ginny recovered herself and said, "Sorry," trying to turn and see who she had crashed into, but he was standing directly behind her, and his arm was still tight around her waist.

"You should pay more attention to where you're going, Miss Weasley," said a low, teasing voice next to her ear. "You might get hurt."

Ginny was startled. "How do you know-" she started.

"I don't know a single witch or wizard who wouldn't recognize a Weasley, even from the back," the voice told her. It sounded vaguely familiar to Ginny, like a voice she'd heard one or two times, but never paid a great deal of attention to. "So tell me," he said. His voice was silky. "What are you doing sliding around the corridors before 6:00 in the morning?"

"I might ask you the same thing," she snapped. She was getting tired of his game. And she wished he would take his hand off her waist; it was making her feel a bit lightheaded. And she felt kind of trapped, unable to turn or move away. "And besides, I don't think it's fair that you know who I am but I don't know who you are."

"Maybe," he said, "but I asked you what you were doing first, so you have to answer before I do. And you probably wouldn't talk to me if you knew who I was, so just leave me as anonymous."

"Oh, that's encouraging," Ginny muttered crossly. She struggled to turn herself around so she could get a good look at him, but he restrained her easily. That surprised her; she was very strong, and not many people could keep her captive when she didn't want them to.

"Oh, come on. Just tell me what you're doing. I promise I won't use the evidence against you." He was teasing again, which would have annoyed her if his voice wasn't so…sexy. She rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything. "If you don't talk, I'll just assume it's worse than it is," he warned.

"Why do I care?" she asked. "I don't even know who you are." She couldn't figure out who he was. She would have guessed at a Slytherin, as he'd said she wouldn't talk to him if she knew who he was. But why would a Slytherin talk to a Gryffindor like this? Unless it was Draco Malfoy, which she knew it wasn't.

"Fine. If you talk to me, I'll tell you who I am after," he said.

"How long after?"

"Just talk."

"It had better be soon," she grumbled. "Fine. Do you want to hear the stupid, boring truth? I couldn't sleep and didn't want to sit still, so I went for a walk."

"Without shoes?" he asked dubiously.

"It's Saturday. I am perfectly entitled to go out without shoes on a Saturday. So just deal with it."

"Whatever you say."

"Now it's your turn."

"What?"

She sighed. "I told you why I was here, now it's your turn."

She felt him shrug. He was definitely holding her way too close. "Pretty much the same reason. Though you might notice that I am wearing shoes."

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled. "And now you have to let me see who you are."

"No, I don't."

"What? How is that fair?"

"I just said I would let you know after, not right away. And I'm stronger than you, so you don't exactly have a choice."

"Ugh. Well, you'll have to let me go sooner or later. At this point, sooner would be better."

"You want to know who I am so badly?" Damn. He was teasing again. Ginny was finding it pitifully hard to resist that tone. And she didn't even know who she was talking to.

"Yeah, that and I want you to get your hands off me."

He tightened his grip. "Not going to happen," he whispered in her ear. She grimaced. Nothing could hold an argument against pure physical strength. And she really wished he would let go of her! She was finding it increasingly hard to concentrate with his arms around her and his face so close to hers but, unfortunately, impossible to see. And she had no idea who he was or what he looked like. The only things she could tell about him were that he was tall and strong. And she didn't find it at all fair that someone could have such a strong physical impact on her. Her brain didn't feel like it was working right, not to mention the rest of her. She was very close to trembling in his arms, which was way too cliché for Ginny. She hated clichés. And her lungs, trying to catch up with her heart, were forcing her to breath faster. And, besides that, her arms were pinned to her side by his, baking it impossible for her to reach her wand tucked in her robes and make him let go of her. Though maybe she didn't really want him to…

"Please," she begged, which was not something she did often, but something had to make him let go. "Just tell me who you are. The suspense is killing me."

"I'll bet you'll live through it," he muttered. She knew she had heard that voice before! He sighed. "Okay, fine. But you have promise you won't run away screaming."

"I highly doubt I could get away anyways," she said cryptically. "And I'd like to see something that could make me run away screaming."

"Oh, good." Then, he spun her around to face him.

He had black hair and olive-toned skin, and his dark eyes sparkled with laughter, and something else she couldn't place. And then, Good God, Ginny thought, she recognized him. A Slytherin seventh year, and Draco Malfoy's best friend. "Blaise Zabini?" she breathed. But even with this shock, it didn't escaper her attention that he was extremely muscular. Or that his arm around her still trapped her against him.

"Glad you recognize me," he said softly. Shit, what is happening? Ginny thought. His face was barely two inches from her own.

And then, his mouth was on hers. Ginny almost pulled away, but for two things. One, his arm was still around her waist, crushing her against him, and, two, damn he was a good kisser. The hand not on her waist moved to tangle itself in her long red hair, pulling her even closer. Almost without her own consent, Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck while her lips moved with his. Soon, she really was trembling. The rational part of her mind screamed at her to stop before everything got out of hand, but the rest of her just wanted to kiss Blaise with all the passion she possessed.

When his mouth moved off hers and to the base of her neck, she tried desperately to catch her breath (and her mind) and failed miserably at both. "What the hell?" she gasped. Her voice shook almost as much as the rest of her.

"Mmmm," was his only reply. His mouth was now exploring her jawline. Ginny had the feeling that she was in the middle of way too many clichés. Zabini was tall, dark, and handsome, she was helpless in his arms, and she had totally lost her mind. Well, maybe the last one wasn't a cliché, but still. She finally gave up thinking when he brought his mouth back to hers.

A/N: You probably are thinking, "Where did this come from? I thought this was about Hermione!" Well, it is, but I just had to write this. Don't worry, it really will work in the end. I hope. Just trust me. Please review! Don't just say that I was crazy because I put this in here. Hannah has already said that way too many times. And I like this chapter, so just deal with it. 101st reviewer gets the next chapter dedicated to them. I'll try to update sometime soon. Love you all!

-k