Author's Note: In case you're worrying, this is definitely a Dramione fic all the way, so anything that happens between Blaise and Hermione can't really last. Not sure if that really needed saying, but there you go.

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Chapter 13

I sit down on the edge of Blaise's bed.

Harry's gone into my room to have some time alone with Ginny. It's not hard to guess what they're doing in there. Charlie showed up early in the morning and took Ron away to Shell Cottage because Mrs. Weasley wanted to see him. At least, that's what Harry told me—by the time I woke up this morning, Ron was gone already.

According to the boys, Blaise didn't wake up at any point last night. I know that it'll take some time for his body to heal, but it still worries me that he hasn't regained consciousness. I'm itching to use Rennervate on him, but it's healthier to let him wake up naturally.

I had the boys help me put him under the covers last night before leaving to go to bed. His right hand—his wand hand—rests above the blanket, on his chest. I pick it up gently and pull it into my lap. The smooth, dark skin is broken by a few thin scars. This hand has saved my life several times in the past two years.

I look at his face and wish he would open his eyes. It hasn't really been long since I gave him the Antidote, so it's not strange that he hasn't woken yet. But I still can't help wishing…

I look back down at his hand and clasp it between both of mine. His big hands are always so warm.

"Love you too."

At the sound of his voice, my eyes fly to his face and see that his gaze is fixed on our hands.

"Did I wake you?" I ask, choosing to ignore his statement.

He smiles. "Yeah. Thanks for keeping my hand warm."

I shake my head and start to release his hand, but it tightens around mine.

"But no, seriously," he says. "Thanks. For saving my life."

"I owe it to you," I reply with a small smile.

Our eyes meet for a moment, and I can't look away.

He grins. "Keep staring at me like that, and I'll start thinking you really have a crush on me."

I laugh at him and look down at our hands. He's still holding my hand, just tightly enough so that I can't brush him off.

"You were supposed to be tracking the movements of Death Eaters in Liverpool, weren't you?" I ask. "How did you get poisoned?"

He sighs, amusement fading from his face. "Yeah, about that… I was stupid."

"What happened?"

"I sat down with a man—well, let me start over. I saw a man surrounded by a group of wizards, so I helped him out and Stunned his attackers. He offered to buy me a drink, so I went with him. He was a local. I figured I could ask him if anything strange had been happening lately."

He shakes his head and closes his eyes.

"He was the one who poisoned you, then?" I ask him.

"Yeah, he was," he replies. "I think he slipped the poison into my drink when I wasn't paying attention. I didn't notice that I'd been poisoned until my voice got croaky and my stomach and chest started burning."

"I'm glad you got out of there," I say.

"Yeah, me too."

I smile. "Looks like the Great Zabini is slipping," I tease him.

"Hey, hey. Even the greatest people have to make mistakes occasionally. We're still human, after all."

I roll my eyes at him. "Yes, of course."

"So, where are Harry and Ginny? And Weasley?"

"Charlie came in the morning to take Ron to Shell Cottage," I say. "The other two went across the hall."

"To snog?"

I laugh. "Probably, yes."

He grins. "What do you say we get to a little snogging ourselves?"

I shake my head. "Blaise, you're incorrigible."

"I'm not kidding," he says, that same grin still spread across his face. "You have very, very tempting lips, Hermione."

I flush crimson and turn my head away, self-consciously licking my lips. He squeezes my hand and tugs lightly in an attempt to get me to turn back to him, but I don't change position.

"Aw come on, Hermione. You don't still have feelings for that spotted redhead, do you?"

"No, of course I don't," I say, turning back to face him. I'm very aware that my cheeks are still a few shades redder than usual. "But that doesn't mean I'm interested in you."

"Are you trying to say that you're not interested in me, then?"

My tongue appears to have tied itself in a knot, and I resort to nodding.

He pulls his hand back and lifts himself up slowly on his elbows, keeping his eyes on mine. Then he lets his eyes drop to my lips, and I notice that his tongue has darted out to moisten his own lips.

"Blaise, stop teasing me," I say.

He smiles sincerely.

"I'm not," he whispers.

He slowly moves closer an inch at a time, eyes studying my face to gauge my reaction.

Am I really going to let him kiss me?

"No—stop!"

That voice… Ron?

Blaise turns his head to his right, in the direction of the outburst, and I feel some disappointment welling up in my chest. I'm… disappointed… that he didn't kiss me. I take a deep breath and turn my head to the left in time to see Ron emerge from beneath Harry's Invisibility Cloak.

"Excellent timing you have, Weasel," Blaise says, shaking his head.

"Ron… what are you doing in here? Aren't you supposed to be at Shell Cottage?" I ask.

His face is red as a tomato. "You—you were going to let him kiss you."

"You didn't answer the lady's question," Blaise says, lying back down.

"It's okay, Blaise," I say. Then I say to Ron, "So what if I was? I thought you said that—"

"I said I'd try to be friends, not that I approved of him kissing you!"

"Oh, so now I need your approval before kissing someone?" I say.

Anger rises in my chest. Ron opens his mouth to protest, but I point my wand at him. Before he has time to react, I Disarm and then Silence him. He fixes his eyes on me furiously.

"Do you think that being my ex gives you some sort of power over me? I'm allowed to kiss whomever I want. You can't just tell me that I can't kiss someone because you don't want me to. By now, you should know better than to try to control me."

"It's all right, Hermione," Blaise says, sitting up again. He reaches out and tries to get me to lower my wand arm.

"No, it's not all right," I say, glaring at Ron.

Doesn't he know that one of the reasons that we broke up in the first place was because I couldn't stand the way he tried to control every aspect of my life? He never wanted me to go on missions unless he came too. He was overly jealous of Ginny and Harry even—he used to be bitter when I chose to talk to them instead of him.

He's glaring back at me, and I can't understand why he still thinks he's in the right.

"Hermione—" begins Blaise.

I twist around to face him, grab two fistfuls of his shirt, and tug him closer to me. A split second later, I plant my lips on his, kissing him furiously. He remains completely motionless, no doubt shocked by my actions. But I don't care. I want more than anything to show Ron that I am not his.

I back up a tiny bit and flick his upper lip with my tongue. Seemingly coming to his senses, Blaise leans forward, returning the kiss with fervor. When his tongue slips into my mouth, I massage it with mine, earning a quiet groan from him.

Then a hand grips my shoulder tightly and tugs me backwards, breaking our kiss.

"Hermione, what the fuck are you doing?" Ron shouts, livid.

I realize that he'd taken his wand back from me while I was distracted.

"If you couldn't tell, I was kissing Blaise," I reply calmly.

"So that's how it is, is it?" he says, fuming. "You know what, fuck you. Fuck both of you."

"Get out," I say, pointing at the door.

"Fine. You'll regret this."

"Get out," I repeat.

Ron exits the room and slams the door behind him. I hear muffled screams coming from outside—the noise must have been enough to wake up Mrs. Black.

I turn to look at Blaise and see that he's leaning back on his elbows, looking up at me.

"Blaise, I—"

He shrugs his shoulders. "Yeah, I know. You didn't mean anything by it. You were trying to prove a point. I shouldn't make too much out of it."

I can't help but smile at him. "You've been around me for too long, haven't you?"

"Not too long, just long enough," he replies. He yawns widely.

"You should go back to sleep," I say. "Your body needs it in order to recover fully."

"Yeah, all right. I'll go back to sleep. You should probably go talk to Weasley, though. I don't wanna get attacked in my sleep."

I sigh. "I'll ask Harry to talk to him for me. I'm too angry with him to speak to him right now."

"Whatever works."

"I'll be back later, then."

Blaise nods.

I stand up and head for the door. Before I can pull the door open, he speaks.

"Hermione?"

I pause and look back at him.

"You're a good kisser," he says, grinning impishly.

"Shut up, Blaise," I say before hurrying out the door and pulling it shut behind me.

It's silent in the house—Mrs. Black must have been subdued already. Then I hear voices from downstairs and head toward them.

"Oh hello, Hermione," Seamus says, grinning.

"Seamus, hi," I say with a smile. "When did you get here?"

"He came a few hours ago," Lee says.

"That's right. I was just stopping by for this," Seamus says. He holds up a small flask.

"What is that?" I ask.

"Something for my mission. I'll be back here in two days—if not, then something's gone wrong, and you guys should probably send someone out looking for me," he says.

"Where will you be, again?" Lee asks.

"Hellifield. It's a town in North Yorkshire," Seamus replies.

"Got it," Lee says. "I'll let the twins know."

"Lupin knows too, so if you forget…"

"We won't forget," I say. "But I'm sure you'll be fine. Take care of yourself, Seamus."

He nods and pulls open the front door. "Wish me luck."

With that, he leaves.

"Wonder what his mission is," Lee says.

Then there's an explosion from upstairs, and my head jerks in the direction of the stairs.

Lee laughs at my worried expression. "Don't worry, Hermione. Just something me and the twins were working on. I'll be seeing you."

He heads up the stairs, and I decide that it's time to speak to Harry about what happened with Ron. Where is Ron, anyway? I glance in the direction of the kitchen just in time to see him glaring at me from a crack in the doorway. When he sees that I've spotted him, he closes the door the rest of the way.

Sighing, I start going upstairs. Harry will definitely be more capable of talking some sense into that twit.