AN: OMG! Quickest update in a long time! And, it's a decent length, too! Enjoy!

Hermione was not impressed. It was inexplicable and childish, but she could not explain her behaviour other than to judge it as an observer. It was irrational, pitiful, and almost pathetic the way she avoided the Head Boy like he was the bearer of bad news. She convinced herself that she did not want to test the limits of proximity, in case things backfired and somehow her cured state would all go unhinged. In truth, she just didn't know how to act around him.

Pathetic.

She knew it.

"They're saying that Malfoy threatened your life if you didn't beg the Professors to reinstate him as Head Boy."

"Who said that?" Hermione asked Lavender who had uncharacteristically sought Hermione out between classes in a rather sedate manner.

"Well, that's the more believable version - except for the begging. I mean, you? Beg?"

"There are others?" Hermione looked at her housemate in disbelief. This sort of gossip was the last thing she had expected. It was almost petty in comparison to her cowardly avoidance of him.

"The Slytherin rumour mill has you pegged as already being under the Imperius," Lavender replied.

Hermione snorted.

"I mean, why anyone would want Malfoy as Head Boy is beyond me. He was awful! A moody prat. He probably had his father bribe the School Board to get him back in the seat, if you ask me?"

"Probably," Hermione muttered.

"Oh, and this Slytherin girl. Greengrass? Or, something. Anyway, she's blonde." She waved a hand dismissively as if that description were sufficient. "You seem to be her favourite topic for discussion. You should hear what she's been saying."

"I'd rather not," Hermione mumbled. It seemed like Lavender wasn't taking the hint that starting to walk away was a sign that Hermione was trying to escape idle gossip.

Naturally, Lavender followed alongside. "She reckons you poisoned, cursed, hexed - I forget which one - Malfoy, and now he's blindly fallen for you and –

"Wait, what?" Hermione stopped in her tracks and stared at the messenger.

Lavender huffed impatiently. "Well, in Divination the other day, she asked Professor Trelawney if there was any way of using tea leaves to do a reading for a person you're concerned about. I think she's tyring to find a way to somehow prove that you and Malfoy are- were- whatever- involved. I mean, come on! She is NEWT level. Doesn't she know that she can't do that? So anyway, Trelawney told her to try the crystal ball."

Hermione stared at Lavender, her heart almost beating out of her chest. If Lavender thought there was any truth to Daphne's rants, there was no stopping the rumour mill. She had to keep herself composed and act as if it were all a royal joke. "I hear crystal balls are quite testing at the best of times," she said, a flippant comment to wave off Lavender's radar. Although, the fact that Lavender had completely ignored giving an opinion on the actual curse was reassuring enough.

"Not if you have the eye," Lavender replied, as if it were common knowledge. "Anyway, in class today, that blonde Slytherin is getting really annoyed because she is not getting a reading until Trelawney walks over and insists that she sees an owl in the crystal ball."

Hermione's ears perked up. "An owl?" She furrowed her brow, recalling the dog Trelawney had associated with Harry's death. What was it with her and animals? "Wonder what that means." She was itching to know for her own amusement how that had anything to do with her poisoning Malfoy to fall for her... charm? More like the reverse! Not that it would appease Daphne to know that.

"Well, Trelawney believes it's a sign of a buried secret. Isn't that brilliant?" Lavender replied excitedly.

"Right." Hermione didn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't that. "Nothing about me cursing Malfoy to hopelessly fall for the Head Girl, then?"

"Well, that could be the secret," Lavender said enthusiastically, egging on Hermione to divulge any details.

Hermione was struggling to contain herself. "Trust me. It's not on my 'to do' list. You would know about it." She tried to suppress the niggling fact that he had kept what had happend between them away from the hallway's ears.

Lavender shrugged. "Well, I'd watch out for her."

Hermione nodded knowingly. "Thanks, Lavender."

"Keep your ear out for any owls!" she called as she walked away, giggling.

Despite Lavender's silliness, Hermione was suddenly reminded of Harry's problem. She needed to visit her hideaway, tonight. But first, she had to set another Slytherin straight. He seemed to have completely dropped off her radar since her recovery.

Thank goodness for Potions. It felt like a lifetime ago since she last attended the class.

Blaise Zabini had not made an effort to seek Hermione out in some time. He had snuck up on her the night of her detention with Daphne to see if she was okay, but since then...nothing. As far as Hermione could tell, it was almost like he had got what he wanted from her, gave her the conciliatory pleasantries and dropped from the face of the earth. Never mind the fact that he was supposed to be helping her brew her own version of the now forgotten potion. He hadn't even bothered to update her on its progress. That could only mean one thing. He hadn't made any.

She spotted him already seated at their shared desk. He caught her gaze and nodded – a far cry from his usual toothy smiles and concerned looks.

"Hello, stranger," she greeted as she sat down. It was more of an acknowledgment, really.

"Hi, Hermione."

She really hadn't expected him to reply so casually. "That's it?" she asked, feeling a sting of annoyance.

He looked over at her, his gaze intense. "What do you want me to say?"

Hermione's eyes widened slightly at his reply. "Forget it," she dismissed, turning her head away and focusing her attention on her books. She was suddenly feeling quite irate.

Silence followed from her lab partner but the air between them was tense. The energy coming from the one person, whom she had come to rely on during the whole ordeal with Malfoy, was now the polar opposite. He was so...detached. She simply didn't know how to take him. Her anger was mounting.

"You know..." She turned to look at him, pausing. This wasn't the time or the place to start anything – not that she had a plan to deal with one aloof and indifferent Zabini; the only Slytherin to ever offer her any help or respect.

He gave her a sideways look, expecting her to continue.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

He tweaked an eyebrow, as if she had interrupted his train of thought.

Hermione was almost fidgeting with the edginess he had provoked and the rising lump in her throat was making it all the more unpleasant. She wasn't prepared to endure a whole class with Blaise Zabini acting like that with her feeling like this? Certainly not.

Hermione promptly stood up and grabbed her things.

"Where are you going?"

Well that was unexpected. Hermione just looked at him, agape. "Well, I can tell when I'm not wanted."

The Slytherin let out a small chuckle. "When has that stopped you?" His comment could have been construed as malicious, except for the fact that he was smiling.

"Well, I'm glad one of us can laugh about it," she replied stifly, picking up her books.

"Look, there's no need to move, okay?" he said, a slight resignation apparent in his voice. Apparently the guy couldn't hold a grudge. He looked up at her. "Please, just sit down."

Hermione reluctantly sat. "Have I done something?" she asked after a moment.

He sighed. "You could have told me you didn't need me working on the potion," he said in a low breath.

Hermione gave him a confused look. So that's what this was about? "You haven't spoken to me properly since I had detention with Daphne. How can I tell you anything? Besides, you hadn't really mentioned it so I thought you hadn't bothered."

"You would know where to find me," he replied, leaning back in his chair. "And, I would have thought you knew me a little better by now." His telling look said it all.

Hermione couldn't help the blush that spread from her neck to her face like spilt wine. It was suddenly too warm in the classroom and the more people that filed in, the more difficult she found it to suppress her harried state.

It was at that point that Malfoy chose to walk through the door. He stopped dead at the doorway, looking down the classroom at them both. Had he forgotten that he took this class with them, or was it her beetroot stained cheeks and Blaise's concentrated look that caught the Head Boy's attention?

Hermione turned away and picked up her quill, focusing on writing the date on the top of her fresh piece of parchment as if her life depended on it. A shadow loomed over her.

"Nice to see you two have kept up your pleasantries. How...refreshing it must be for you, Granger, to be able to do so without me in the equation." Malfoy was now standing at his desk; his distaste at the whole state of affairs apparent. He threw his books down, and sat, turning his back on them both without further word.

She chanced a glance at Blaise who simply waved a hand like it was old news.

"Some things never change," Hermione could not help muttering quietly under her breath, resting a hand on her forehead. It was slightly reassuring that despite being the key source for purifying her blood, he could still treat her like old news.

"I would say a lot has changed, Granger."

He had heard her? How was that even possible? Hermione shot her head up and looked straight into the cool grey eyes of the Head Boy. She opened her mouth to speak, but he simply turned his head back to the front of the room before she had the chance to formulate any response. Where was her biting remark?

Frowning, Hermione leaned back in her chair. Now level with Blaise, she sent him another questioning look. Were those two not talking...again?

He merely shook his head before Professor Snape walked into the room.

Hermione held her breath as she watched him scan the room with calculated thought. His eyes landed on hers briefly. "I think we are due for a rotation," he said slowly.

The class groaned. She did not like the sound of that one bit.

"Students on the left side of the work benches, move to the desk in front."

More groans ensued.

Hermione blanched. Was Snape trying to play some twisted joke on her?

Blaise sent her a consoling look as she stood and grabbed her things. She walked around her desk, dumped her books with an inconsiderate thud at her new spot, just as Malfoy had done earlier, and reluctantly took the empty seat next to Malfoy. She made sure she was as far away from him as possible. She could almost feel Malfoy rolling his eyes at the whole ordeal.

"You will be brewing a memory enhancing potion. We will be testing it," Snape continued.

Hermione's hand shot up. She heard Malfoy groan next to her.

"You have a question, Miss Granger?"

She was slightly surprised by his apparent amusement. "Professor, will we be testing the memory potion with our partner?"

The smirk forming on his face said it all. "Yes, Miss Granger. That is the normal practice."

The class sniggered. Little did they realise that Hermione was more concerned about the type of memory the potion would elicit, especially given the kinds that her and Malfoy now shared. The receding effect on certain memories that Snape's purifying potion encouraged was not something she wanted to test. This wasn't the reception she expected from Snape. After all, she had provided a Slytherin nominee for Head Boy. Surely that accounted for something?

"Scared the potion will enhance an explicit memory, Granger?" she heard Malfoy say in a low voice for her ears only.

She didn't reply.

"If anyone asks me again what page the potion can be found on in your books I will not hesitate to grant the whole class detention. You should be well read in NEWT level theory."

Hermione opened her book to page 253. She had it marked a while back when they had to write an essay on all potions that affected memories. If only they were able to brew the memory inhibitor. She sighed. Avoiding Malfoy was no longer possible.

For the first time since sitting next to her new potions partner she turned to look at him. He slowly turned his head to meet her gaze. It took all her energy to mask her unease. "So, I suppose you want to get the ingredients?" she asked. She figured that since Blaise always had a thing about going to the store room, Malfoy was much the same.

"Best you do it. I might pummel the double crossing snake sitting behind me," he replied, his tone one of pure distaste at the prospect of being made to go there. The strange thing was, none of it was directed at her.

Hermione was simply bewildered. "Excuse me?"

"Just get the ingredients, Granger. I'm not about to chit chat with you about it here." He ran a hand thought his hair and leant back in his chair.

Did that mean he would tell her at some point? Confused and unable to read into Malfoy's intentions, she stood up without further word and made her way to the ingredients storeroom nearest to her. Naturally, Blaise was in there.

"Snape is really twisted," Blaise said when he spotted her entering.

"It's certainly far from ideal." Hermione replied. "You would think he'd want me as far away from Malfoy as possible after all that's happened. I just... don't get it."

"Punishment for having to work overtime?"

"It's certainly sadistic." Hermione sighed as she collected the last of what she needed and walked to the door.

"Look, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

She looked over at him. "It's fine. I haven't been myself."

"We didn't get a chance to discuss things properly. You free later?" he asked.

She nodded gingerly. "Fourth floor classroom after dinner?"

"See you there."

Back at her new workstation, Hermione's new partner, Malfoy, had started on the basics and had the cauldron going and the liquids boiling. His pensive expression caught her attention. She didn't know whether to ask about it or make some snide comment since he wasn't playing the part of the difficult partner. Surely enough, she couldn't bring herself to interrupt whatever train of thought he was involved in and just set all the ingredients on the table.

"Just in time for the Screechsap," he said suddenly.

She looked at him, surprised. Normally she was the one guiding the process. Then again, Malfoy had been working alone for the most of the year.

"Sometime today would be good, Granger."

Hermione blinked. "Right." She counted five and dropped them in as he stirred. She watched, mesmerised as the liquid change colour. They worked in a silent discomfort – an undercurrent of all things unsaid circling the air around them.

"Five minutes!" the Professor called. "You will bottle what you have done now and add the final ingredient in the next class."

Hermione reached for the empty flask at the same time Malfoy did. His hand brushed over hers and she retracted it in fear – it was the most ridiculous reflex reaction she had ever had.

"I've got it," he said, ignoring her reaction.

She nodded, rubbing her hand with the other, trying to come to terms with the fact that his touch was like any other, a fleeting thing with no trigger effect. Then again, was that lingering tingling feeling in her arm supposed to be normal if she was cured? She ignored it, focusing on packing her things and getting out of there as soon as possible.

She turned behind her to see if Blaise was still about. He rolled his eyes as his new Slytherin partner, Tracey Davis, struggled with the stopper. She smiled – chancing a glance back at Malfoy who was labelling their potion for storage.

"Granger, stop making eyes at the prick behind you." Malfoy muttered.

That was the second time that he had startled her with some comment about his housemate. She turned to him. "What has Blaise done to you other than help you?" she asked.

He grabbed the flask by the neck and placed it on top of her books. "Take this to Snape." His eyes locked with hers before he let it go, grabbed his stuff and walked out without further word.

His eyes sparked with a hidden fury that muted any attempt for a retaliating comment.

Hermione was not impressed with herself at all.

That night after dinner, Hermione made her way to the fourth floor. She could see light flickering under the slit in the doorway of the classroom. She walked up, knocking once before letting herself in.

Blaise was sitting on one of the desks, drinking out of bottle. The room looked different. The work bench had been cleared and all the chairs stacked up on the desks that they had used. Their prohibited secret lab was no longer. Hermione walked over and sat on the desk next to him.

He reached for something behind him. "Here. It's the last of it." He handed her a flask.

She stared at the contents – the russet liquid an ominous sign of its raw versatility. It looked quite distinct from the final product Malfoy had given her and she wondered briefly what effects it would induce without the blue blood in it. She quickly quashed the thought.

"I guess it's kind of useless now if you don't have any blue blood, although, I can't say I know what it does in that form."

Hermione looked up at him in surprise - their similar train of thought was uncanny.

"Unless...you want a repeat of facing the unknown," he continued. "But, I think you have a fair idea of the realm of possibilities." He laughed bitterly, taking a swig from his bottle.

Hermione caught the label of his drink. "You're into the 200 year old stuff, too?" she asked. Those Slytherins really did take an extreme approach to everything.

He offered her the bottle. "Didn't pick your for a Firewhisky kind of girl."

Hermione laughed at his misinterpretation. "Can't say I am – it just seems to be popular with you Slytherin boys."

He regarded her with curiosity. "Boys?" His face scrunched up.

Hermione shrugged. "You all act like you are in control; drinking that stuff, thinking that you're mature. Problem is, you can't seem to handle the consequences of your actions," she replied. She didn't mean to discuss her thoughts so openly.

He raised a brow. "Is that you're way of asking me what's going on with Draco and I?" He chuckled.

"Why not," she said, shrugging.

He sighed, taking another sip, shutting his eyes as he swallowed. "Draco is the kind of boy that seems to always have everything work out for him. I guess I didn't expect things to go as far as they did. It all got out of hand," he said, his tone slightly rueful.

Hermione realised she had hit a nerve without even trying, but had little idea on how to proceed. She placed the flask, with its contents just short of being an illegal substance, on the desk next to her and reached for the bottle from Blaise's hold.

Blaise gave her a questioning glance.

"I want to see what all the fuss is about," she replied, bringing it to her lips and slowly tilting it. She carefully took a drink. The hit was instant as the smoothness of its age caught her by surprise. It slid down her throat, a lingering malt flavour satisfying her tastebuds as her insides were warmed. She smiled. "Not bad," she said and handed him the bottle.

"Careful, Granger. Looks like you liked it a little too much for a first timer."

She let out a small laugh. So many firsts had happened in this room. "How exactly did the joke get out of control," she asked cautiously.

"You weren't going to let it go, were you?" Blaise asked.

Hermione shook her head, her eyes lighting up with determination. "I would have thought you knew me a little better by now."

The look he gave her made her stomach freefall. "You really are something, Granger," he said, shaking his head.

"I guess the Head Girl is mostly just a girl," she joked.

He jumped off the table and walked a few steps before turning to face her. "You were never supposed to get mixed up in this mess," he said, his expression regretful.

She didn't know how to interpret his words and so, remained silent. She watched him rub his hands against his forehead in agitation.

"I was just so sick of him getting his way all the time and treating people the way he did...even you."

Hermione watched Blaise start to pace the room. Her gaze wandered to the bottle in his hand – a good third was missing.

"At first ...the whole potion was a bit of fun to give us an edge in Quidditch and a group effort to make sure a Slytherin made it to tryouts for the Puddlemere team at the end of the year." He inhaled. "Then...Draco became really irritating with the whole thing...made it about him. I just- I had enough. You saw how demanding he was that day in the classroom I handed him the flask of the stuff?"

"What are you saying, Blaise?" Hermione asked tentatively.

He stopped pacing and looked at her warily. "I did it on purpose, Hermione."

"Did what?" she asked, her hands gripping the edge of the desk. She hadn't allowed herself to process his verbal declaration.

"The potion, Hermione. After Draco added the Blue Blood, I purposely waited a day too long before adding the mandrake pus. I knew the timing of it was crucial, but I just thought it wouldn't work - not that it would draw out the impact of ..." His voice trailed off.

"I think poison is the word you're looking for," Hermione said curtly. She was certain he could see her appal.

His eyes were now pleading. "Hermione, please understand, I had no idea what Blue Blood was!"

"You told me it was an accident," she said bitterly, shaking her head, wishing she was more angry than hurt.

"That's why I told him I wanted out of it all... and then you- he made you drink it. I needed you to trust me so I could help you."

"So, your interest in me...was that purely out of guilt?" Hermione was about to be sick.

"No! Of course not," he replied, stepping forward, but then realising it was probably best to keep his distance.

"But, you...the potion made me attracted- I mean, we-"She couldn't even finish the sentece.

"I liked- I like- you, Hermione. I wanted out of the contest so I could...ask you out. The properly brewed potion in my system gave me the normal effect of having courage to act on my feelings for you...but, I took advantage of your side effects- the situation - and for that...I'm sorry."

Hermione was having a hard time digesting everything he was saying. The rush of blood to her ears drowned out any coherent thought as she leaned against the desk for support. Her mind was clouded with a million scenarios and questions.

Blaise seemed to find her silence unsettling. What was he expecting - her to hex him? What difference would it make?

"Hermione...please-"

"Don't!" She bit out, jumping off the desk and walking toward him, promptly taking the bottle of Firewhisky from his hold to help appease her propagating emotions. She took a large gulp, letting her head fall right back. She swallowed, shutting her eyes as the liquid distilled her hyperbolic state. She looked at him with hardened eyes. "Do you realise you are responsible for my ending up in the hospital wing?" she asked, her voice cold. 'Do you realise you are responsible for my having feelings for Malfoy on some sick and twisted level?' she wanted to yell.

He nodded, his mouth tightening.

"I don't think you really know what you have put me through with Malfoy. What I've done! What the repercussions are?"

"You told me about you and him-

"That is just the by-product." She laughed. The irony of it was too much. "After that admission, why on earth would you be annoyed with me for not telling you to stop brewing-" She turned and waved a hand to gesture at the flask he had given her earlier.

"It was just my way of distancing myself. But, after we talked, I realised... I miss this- you- and it was eating at me –

"So, really, you are only admitting to it to make yourself feel better? That's why you haven't bothered to be my friend since I have been cured."

"That's not true, Hermione."

She didn't care...it was how she felt. And, it...hurt. "Malfoy hates you, you know, and I- I don't know if I can trust you again."

"Malfoy has no reason to hate me. If it wasn't for me, he would have never realised his-" Blaise suddenly stopped speaking.

"His what?" Hermione shot back.

"I can't –

"Don't give me that fucking Slytherin vagueness and expect me to accept it!" She had never sworn at Blaise and she could see that he was taken aback. 'Good,' she thought.

"Trust me, I would –

"Poor word choice, Blaise." She gave him an unimpressed look.

He took a deep breath. "I'm bound by the Oath of Ancestry. It's a... pureblood thing...I actually can't speak about it," he said apologetically.

Hermione stared back at him in disbelief – not at his tiring inability to reveal another piece to the puzzle, but at her own stupidity for not seeing it coming.

Hermione sighed and walked back to the desk, leaning against it and bringing the bottle to her lips.

At that moment, she really hated Slytherin.

AN: Well...there you have it! Lots happened...love to hear your thoughts! xxx