Julian Selwyn was a charming man, if a bit grand and flamboyant. It was clear he had adapted well to life in France, and he enjoyed his position in the ICW. He was pleased to meet with Hermione, and he seemed to be proud that a British youth was taking such an interest in international politics already. He had run for Youth Representative himself as a boy, he told her, and though he hadn't won, it'd given him a taste of what was to become his future career. Luckily for Hermione, he was very patient with her and didn't mind answering all her questions about the International Confederation of Wizards.

"Mostly, we worry about secrecy matters that impact us all," he explained to Hermione. "Trolls in Lichtenstein are a common concern. There is a permanent task force in Tibet to handle the sightings of the Yeti."

"Do you know everyone?" Hermione asked. "I'm hoping to meet the representative from New Zealand."

Julian made a face.

"That'll be more complicated than you'd think," he said. "They've got two, for their tiny islands."

"Two representatives?" Hermione repeated, blinking. "Why?"

"Internal politics? I'm not sure," Julian said, waving a hand. "There's Ruby Wilson and Amaia Mateo. I don't know which one you'll need."

"Do they split up responsibilities?" Hermione asked. "Who would handle making international agreements?"

"If it's trade-related? Ruby," Julian said with certainty. "She's very sharp, very keen. If it's werewolves…" He made an uncertain noise and shrugged. "I would guess Amaia? She's Māori – she'll know whatever legends they've got."

"Can you introduce me?" Hermione asked.

"If you like," Julian said, shrugging. "Realize, though, that you're in school, and we meet in Paris, and only once a month. It won't be easy."

"That's fine," Hermione said, mentally sketching out her summer timeline. "What day do you all meet?"

"The first Sunday of the month," Julian said promptly. "Every month. Even New Year's."

Hermione paused.

"…the next first Sunday of the month is May 1st," she said. "Isn't it?"

Julian paused to think. "I believe so."

"Out of curiosity, on the freak chance I could make it to the ICW meetup that day," Hermione said, pulling out a scrap of parchment and pre-inked quill, "where exactly would I need to go?"

That evening, after returning from Hogsmeade, Hermione and Tracey claimed a table in the common room to finish their homework. Divination assignments were always an aggravation, but working on the homework with Tracey made it at least a little more bearable. The two girls were working on their essays on dowsing in the Slytherin common room (though Hermione was doodling on the side of her page, trying to think what qualified a stick as a 'dowsing rod') when Blaise found her, fire in his eyes.

"Hermione," he said. "Can we talk?"

Hermione looked up at his tone of voice, eyes wide. Tracey shot Hermione a look, and Hermione lifted a shoulder, not having any idea what was wrong.

"Um," she said. "Sure?"

"Not here," Blaise said curtly. "Somewhere private."

Hermione nodded and slowly got up. Blaise jerked his head sharply and strode to the common room door, Hermione following behind.

"Curfew's in an hour," Tracey called after them. "Don't forget."

Blaise ignored Tracey and led Hermione out of the common room. To her surprise, he led her up out of the dungeons, up the stairs, and to the end of the third corridor – the one that had once been blocked off.

"They've just been storing stuff in here now," Blaise said, jinxing the door open. "Come on."

He was right – the room that had formerly housed a giant three-headed dog was now stuffed with mismatching furniture. There were random beds scattered around, dozens of couches of different patterns and sizes, and armchairs galore.

"Is this where Hogwarts stores things it doesn't need for the common rooms?" Hermione asked, astonished. "I thought it just manifested things as needed."

"I honestly have no idea," Blaise said. "Sit down."

Hermione sat obediently, and Blaise said on the other side of the sofa from her. He looked at her for a long moment, and Hermione gnawed on her lip, uncertain.

"You're doing it again," he said finally. "Hiding things."

"Hiding what?" Hermione said, immediately defensive. "I told you what I was working on, I told you I was being blackmailed—"

"You didn't tell me you were going to sneak out to go to France!" Blaise said, throwing his hands up.

"That was a recent decision!" Hermione said hotly. "I'm still working on it—"

"You didn't even tell me you were considering it!"

"Forgive me for not wanting to dump all the details of my drama on your girlfriend!" Hermione snapped.

"She's not my—Hermione—" Blaise's voice came out strangled, and he rubbed at his face in annoyance, taking a deep breath. "Let's start over, shall we?"

"Fine," Hermione said curtly.

Blaise took a deep breath.

"So," he said, his tone neutral. "You're intending to go to France?"

"Yes," Hermione said, her tone short. "I am."

"That's new," Blaise said evenly. "What sparked that decision?"

He was being calm and reasonable, and Hermione found herself sighing.

"The blackmailing," she said. "I just—even with Tom's help, Alchemy is such a mess. I've been so stressed over it, and I'm desperate. So I wrote to Fleur, seeing if she knew anything, and—"

"Fleur?" Blaise said. "That's your French girlfriend?"

Hermione paused, looking at him suspiciously. His voice was neutral and betrayed no emotion.

"Kind of," Hermione said slowly. "She's—we were close over the summer. We're not in anything official, though."

"But she's the one who's sending you courting gifts?" Blaise asked. His voice was perfectly even. "The one who's sending you letters via raven?"

"Yes," Hermione said. She raised her chin. "Is that a problem?"

"Not at all," Blaise said, shrugging one shoulder elegantly. "I just want to know all the players in the game. So – you wrote to Fleur…?"

"I did," Hermione said. "As it happens, though Nicholas Flamel died, Perenelle Flamel is still alive – she visited Beauxbatons at the beginning of their term to give a speech. And she's a renowned alchemist in her own right."

"I see," Blaise said, nodding slowly. "And your goal is to go and ask her how to use the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Err—maybe a bit more subtly than that," Hermione said awkwardly. "I don't really want her to know I have it? That seems like a bad idea. But as it happens, the ICW is meeting in France that same day, so I figure if I can Time-Turn back—"

"The same day? On what day?" Blaise asked. "You have a particular day picked out already?"

Blaise betrayed no emotion in his voice, but Hermione still hesitated.

"Um, yes," she said. "May 1st."

"That's soon," Blaise said, with mild alarm. "Do you need a Portkey? Because if I need to get you one, it can take weeks—"

"Oh, no," Hermione said hastily. "I was planning to go on Beltane because the ley lines will be open. I can hop them without risk of the Fae kidnapping me, and there's one with only four nodes before I get to France."

Blaise took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Hermione bit her lip, worrying at it while Blaise rubbed small circles into his temples.

"Let me get this all straight," he said. "You intend on traveling via the ley lines like the House Elves. Which you've been practicing?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "But I can only travel on certain days."

"And you intend on sneaking out of school to France, where you want to talk to Perenelle Flamel about the matter you're being blackmailed for," he continued, "as well as crash an ICW meeting for your legislation about the antipodes."

"I wouldn't say crashing, but in essence, yes," Hermione said. "The British representative said he'd introduce me. And Royce Fiddlewood says his department has sufficient funding, if I can get the international diplomatic agreement part all set up."

"And you intend on introducing your legislation after you're done scheming to get Sirius Black free?" Blaise went on. "So he can vote in favor of it for you?"

"Hopefully," Hermione said. "Honestly, I didn't think I'd be able to introduce it until summer, but the dates of the ICW meeting just happened to line up, so I thought 'why not'—"

Blaise took a deep breath.

"Hermione," he said, meeting her eyes. "You realize you're a bit mad, right?"

Hermione was startled into laughing.

"I'm mad?" she said, amused. "How do you figure?"

"You are simultaneously keeping a million things straight at once, and I've no idea how," he told her. "Just in the next month, you've got ley line traveling, secret romantic meetups, international diplomacy, and the secret interrogation of a world-famous alchemist. That's to say nothing of your schemes with the hedgewitches, plotting with the Malfoys and Sirius Black, or your ignorant support of the goblins."

Hermione paused. "...it does sound like quite a lot when you put it all like that."

"And that's without mentioning your recent acquisition of Fiendfyre." Blaise's eyes gleamed. "Many Death Eaters have failed at casting and controlling that spell. Theo said it ate some of them alive when they tried."

"The fire elemental helps a lot," Hermione reassured him. "It's still hard, but—"

"And you won't tell me why," Blaise said, "you needed to learn such a Dark spell."

Hermione paused. Blaise looked at her for a long moment in the quiet.

"…you need plausible deniability for this one, Blaise," she said quietly. "If they found out that you knew…"

"You say that as if you won't be significantly at risk," Blaise snapped. "If it's so dangerous for me to know, it's got to be wildly dangerous for you to do—"

"I'll have an alibi," Hermione assured him. "I'll use the Time-Turner. Not many people know I have it, and there's no real reason anyone will immediately suspect me."

"Unless they know you can cast Fiendfyre, I'm presuming?" Blaise said, raising an eyebrow. "Who all knows?"

"Um. You. Tom Riddle," Hermione said, thinking. "And—err—Snape knows now, I guess—"

"Snape knows?" Blaise said, incredulous. "Hermione!"

"I needed help!" Hermione said defensively. "I was worried I was going to become a Dark witch! So I went to Snape and we talked and he helped—"

Blaise groaned, holding his head in his hands.

"You're mad," he said, voice muffled. "Brilliant, but mad."

Hermione bit her lip, looking at him sideways as the moment stretched on.

"I'm sorry?" she offered. "I didn't mean to cut you out – just so much was happening, and I was making decisions and we didn't have time to talk—"

"There is always time to talk," Blaise assured her, looking up. "Hermione. I will always make time for you."

"I mean, I know that," Hermione said, biting her lip. "But I was trying to be thoughtful. Tracey said you only get to see Sally-Anne when I'm not around, so I've been spending more time out of the dungeons—"

"Tracey needs to keep her blasted observations to herself," Blaise growled. He looked annoyed. "Look. Hermione. My relationship is not going to interfere with my loyalty to you."

"I didn't think it was," Hermione said hotly, though her throat clenched at hearing him say 'relationship' in connection to Sally-Anne. "I was just trying to be respectful—"

"Don't make decisions for me on my behalf, Hermione!" Blaise snapped. "I can plan my own time. If I want to go snog Sally-Anne, I will! I don't need you to sneak off to pseudo-schedule it for me!"

Hermione's eyes went wide, and Blaise groaned, pressing a hand into his eyes.

"Look. That came out wrong," he said. "I just—"

He trailed off, frustrated, and Hermione bit her lip.

"She seems nice," Hermione offered hesitantly. "A bit chatty, maybe, but she's fun enough?"

Blaise looked up at Hermione incredulously, giving her an are you seriously doing this?-type look. Hermione continued on, keeping her voice steady as she bravely asked, "So. You've been seeing her since Valentine's Day?"

A slow smirk spread across his face.

"Yeah, about," Blaise said, eyes glinting. "Everybody else was locking down dates, and I figured 'why not?'"

"And you enjoy her company?" Hermione continued determinedly. "She's good to spend time with and talk to?"

"To be honest, we don't spend all that much time talking," Blaise drawled. "She's very… physical… with her communication."

"Ah. I see," Hermione said, swallowing. "Um. That's good."

Blaise laughed.

"What do you think of her, Hermione?" he challenged. "Other than 'chatty'?"

"Well, she seems fine," Hermione said, feeling oddly defensive for some reason. "If you like her—"

"Do you think she's attractive?" Blaise asked directly.

"She's pretty enough—"

"Are you attracted to her?" Blaise challenged, eyes gleaming. "Is that why you were acting so weird at the Three Broomsticks?"

"No!" Hermione objected, eyes going wide. "No, no, it wasn't that—"

"Then what was it?"

"It was awkward talking about Fleur and minding my pronouns and words because I didn't exactly want to out myself in front of Sally-Anne Perkins!" Hermione said hotly. "I didn't expect to be talking about that, that was all!"

"Ah, yes, Fleur." Blaise's voice was a suggestive purr. "Enough about Sally-Anne. Tell me about Fleur, Hermione."

Hermione huffed. "Are we really doing this?"

"Discussing our romantic liaisons? You started it," Blaise said, a wicked smile on his lips. "What is Fleur like, Hermione? If Sally-Anne isn't to your liking, what is your type?"

Despite the gleam in his eyes, Blaise seemed genuinely interested in her answers. It felt weird, but Hermione was determined to try and be more open with him, so he wouldn't have reason to accuse her of keeping secrets anymore. But it was still hard, telling someone what felt like a cherished secret memory, something she held close and protected to her heart.

Hermione bit her lip, looking up at Blaise.

"Fleur is a girl I met in France," she said finally. "She's—umm—"

"What does she look like?" Blaise prompted.

"She's—she's beautiful," Hermione said emphatically. "She's tall and slender, but she's still feminine, and she's got these enchanting blue eyes and blonde hair—"

"Another blonde?" Blaise said, tapping his lips. "Is blonde your type, then?

Hermione looked up at him. "What do you mean, another?"

"Fleur's blonde, Diggory was blond—"

"Cedric did not have blond hair! Brown with highlights maybe—"

"—and Malfoy's blond." Blaise's eyes gleamed. "Seems like you have a type."

"Draco doesn't count," Hermione said hotly. "You know I went on the date with him to get to know more about his family and his mum—"

"Still a date, though…"

"—and Cedric wasn't blond. Fleur wasn't even blonde when I met her," Hermione argued. "She was brunette."

Blaise looked interested. "Wait, really? Is she a metamorphagus?"

"A what?"

"Nevermind. Did she color her hair?" Blaise asked. "I know muggles can do that."

"Err—not exactly," Hermione said. "She was wearing a wig. To—um—help her blend in. Her hair's platinum blonde, and very long and pretty. It really stands out. Anyway, she's beautiful, and she's brilliant. She knows everything about everything, it seems. She took me around wizarding Paris to tell me about everything."

"And she gave you that hair clip?"

"Err—yes." Hermione flushed. "That wasn't quite intentional, in that way? But she gave me another one later, one that very much was intentional. So… there's that."

"And she fancies girls?" Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Or boys as well?"

"I don't honestly know. Both, I think?" Hermione guessed. "She—she has a lot of difficulty making friends in general. She's getting better at it – she impressed a group of classmates recently in their spring dueling competition, so they're all studying together now. But—umm—she's really pretty, so most guys don't bother to get to know her and just go after her because she's gorgeous."

"You're pretty," Blaise commented. "You still didn't have trouble making friends."

"I might be pretty, but I'm not preternaturally gorgeous," Hermione snapped. "Don't be ridiculous."

Blaise laughed.

"So, what, your type is long and lithe?" he asked, eyes glinting. He wouldn't let up, and Hermione took a deep breath, considering.

"I like girls who are kind of tall. With long hair, too. I like eyes that aren't brown like mine, and—umm—feminine, but not…"

"You like them with breasts, but not overly large ones," Blaise summarized. Hermione's face flamed.

"I guess?" she muttered. "I mean, it's more their waists and necks, I think. I just like…"

"What about boys?" Blaise asked. "The same things?" He smirked. "Long hair? Like Lucius Malfoy?"

Hermione snorted despite herself.

"No. With boys, it's… I don't know, it's different. I like their forearms and chests? I like their strength." She drummed her fingers on her lips. "It's a different kind of attraction, almost. With… with girls I fancy, I'm attracted to the feminine parts of them. With guys, I'm attracted to the masculine parts."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "It's different, but the same?"

"Kind of? Like with Cedric – he was quite fit and toned, wasn't he? But in a very masculine way. And… umm… think of like Angelina Johnson."

"The Gryffindor Chaser?" Blaise was astounded. "You fancy her?"

"I don't fancy her! She's just—well, she's quite fit, isn't she?" Hermione's face was flaming. "She's—she's pretty and feminine, but in an assertive way, and I just—"

Blaise was laughing.

"You're so flustered," he teased. "Is this that hard to talk about with you?"

"Yes," Hermione said emphatically. "Not many people know. Jade warned me not to let people know unless I was willing to risk everything."

Blaise seemed calculating.

"So you fancy girls who are tall, feminine, confident, and very capable in a particular area," he summed up. He gave her a keen look. "I'm trying to think of other people you might fancy. Cho Chang?"

Hermione shot him a look. "No."

"No, too short, isn't she?" Blaise hummed. "Who else…"

"Can we not play this game?" Hermione said tersely. "The important bit is that I'm going to go to France to try and meet Perenelle Flamel."

"Yes, yes, of course. The blackmail." Blaise sighed dramatically. "Are you sure we can't just Memory-Charm your blackmailer?"

"Blaise!"

"Fine, fine," Blaise grumbled. He sighed. "Let's make a map of where you're going in France then and figure out a timeline for you so you can get all your things done."

Hermione watched carefully as Blaise looked around for a table to use. As if sensing her watching him, he turned back to look at her, eyes meeting hers.

"What?" he asked pointedly.

"You—you don't seem phased," Hermione said. "By me liking girls."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Should I be?"

"I don't know," Hermione groaned. "But—it feels weird, having you know? And talking about it so openly? And Jade said that this sort of thing wasn't accepted—"

"I spent a lot of time in Italy, growing up," Blaise said, shrugging. "One of my mum's friends – Emelia – took delight in trying to seduce wives away from their husbands."

Hermione blinked.

"…are all of your mother's friends like that?"

"Let's see." Blaise hummed, looking up at the ceiling as he tried to remember. "There's Emelia, who I just mentioned. My mother, Elora; that's two. Cassiopeia – she's on her fifth husband, I think? She's three. There's Gia, who's not married but has like ten different lovers; that's four. Rosa's a politician, I think? Or maybe she just likes seducing and blackmailing politicians. That's five, anyway. And Natalia's the only one who's actually happy in her marriage, I think. He's her second husband, but they've been married for almost ten years. So six."

Hermione's mouth dropped. "That's—that's a lot."

"Well, my mum can't exactly have normal friends…" Blaise snickered. "Any normal woman wants her nowhere near them, for fear she'd steal their husbands. So she had to make friends with women with similar reputations."

"And… you just grew up with this?" Hermione bit her lip. "Blaise, this… this doesn't seem healthy or normal."

Blaise scoffed. "You think I don't know that?"

"I'm just saying!" Hermione said, flushing. "It's—how are you ever going to have a real relationship, with that as the model in your mind?"

"Do you think I'm too dumb to realize that model isn't a good one?" Blaise drawled. "Hermione."

"Okay! I get it. But it had to have at least influenced you, though—"

Blaise sighed.

"I mean. It did. It does," he amended. "My mother's friends—they're all gorgeous women. They're strong and independent and have no shame in flirting and seducing people for fun. They doted on me as a child, giving me tips on relationships and seduction from a—well, too young of an age, probably. So now I'm attracted to strong and independent girls, I guess because I grew up seeing that type of woman as the most desirable."

Hermione blinked. "Sally-Anne is strong and independent?"

"She's certainly strong-willed, and she's independent of thought," Blaise said pointedly, looking at Hermione. "I'm not oblivious to the fact that we're all still teenagers, Hermione. It's not like I'd expect her to live on her own at fourteen."

Hermione bit her lip, weighing her next words carefully.

"Do your mother's friends share her interest in esoteric plants and poisons?" she asked delicately. "Or do they…"

"Cassiopeia's been widowed three times and divorced once," Blaise said, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know the details of the circumstances around her husbands' respective untimely demises."

Hermione snorted despite herself, and Blaise smirked.

"Hermione. It's not like I think murder is the proper way to break up with someone or anything," he reassured her, eyes gleaming. "I'm fine."

Hermione sighed.

"If you say so," she said doubtfully. "It just doesn't seem healthy, to see that growing up."

"It is what it is," Blaise said, shrugging. "It just means I flirt a lot, and I'm a bit more calculated about how I seduce people, I suppose."

"Seduce people?" Hermione tried to hide her shock. "Blaise, we're fourteen!"

"Convince to fall in love with me, then." His eyes glinted. "But maybe I am seducing them. Maybe I'm playing the long game."

"I'm fairly sure Sally-Anne doesn't require a long game," Hermione said dryly. "She seemed quite keen on you."

Blaise laughed.

"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," he said, amused.

"Oh, because you're a gentleman—"

Blaise waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and they both broke out into laughter.

Hermione smiled as her giggles faded, looking at Blaise. She felt almost relieved, in a way. She didn't like it when they were fighting, and thought it had felt awkward, she felt better now that she'd gotten (almost) everything out in the open with him. He didn't seem upset about Fleur, which Hermione had thought he might have an issue with. She felt lighter, now that she'd unloaded her secrets onto him, and it felt good sitting with him — relaxed, comfortable, and certainly less stressed than she'd felt in a long while.

Share a joy and it will double, she thought to herself, looking at Blaise fondly. But sharing halves any trouble.

"Let's go back to the common room to get a parchment to draw out your France timeline," Blaise said. His eyes gleamed as he stood. "If we plan it right and use your little hourglass, maybe you'll have extra time to go seduce your French girlfriend."

Hermione's face flamed.

"It's more her seducing me," she mumbled, red, and Blaise laughed as he led her out of the door and into the corridor.

"That surprises me precisely zero," he said cheerily. "Though, I'm curious to see what you trying to seduce someone would look like. I feel like it'd be one of the few things you'd be terrible at."

Hermione shot him a dark look, but Blaise only grinned as they walked down the hall, eyes sparkling all the while.