It took a couple of seconds for her eyes to adjust to the glow from the candles after spending so long in darkness. Hundreds of candles floated near the ceiling, suspended in the air using the same spell as in the Great Hall. Hermione thought the room must have been used for dueling practice at one point but had been abandoned when the lessons were moved elsewhere, what should have felt cold and gross from neglect was transformed into a warm and welcoming lounge area.
Around the edges of the long room there were antique chairs and couches gathered into smaller groupings, where more private conversations were allowed to take place. Many of which were already occupied by various sprawling bodies. A long walnut wood table with an intricate design carved into the legs was stationed in the middle of the room, filled to the brim with delicacies (both of the food and alcoholic varieties). On the far end of the room a makeshift dance floor was situated with a few couples dancing to a slow song by Snidget that seemed to come from nowhere.
The forty or so people in attendance were dispersed across the room in small cliques. Every single figure was dressed to the nines. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if Ginny had miscalculated with her dress. All of the other girls were not nearly as covered… Many of the dresses were indecently short or had plunging necklines that showed off the shape of their owner's breasts. Some even had cutouts at the sides that gave full view from just under their breasts all the way down to their hip bones. The percentage of fabric on the female student body as a whole was distinctly lower than the exposed skin. She started to worry that she looked matronly compared to most of them.
The boys weren't to be outdone. The majority had decided to wear tuxes in favor of the more normalized wizarding dress robes that were commonly worn at formal occasions. A few went even more casual with plain suits. Their collared shirts were left halfway unbuttoned allowing for peeks at their sculpted chests. On each face rested a mask, it was disorientating not knowing who she was looking at. Each adornment was unique. Some were extremely detailed and must have cost small fortunes while others looked as if they came from muggle costume shops. For all Hermione knew they very well could have…
She took another deep breath to gather her courage. Her mind spun at the realization that everyone had turned and were openly staring at her sudden entrance. There was no way any of them could guess who the occupant under her mask was at first sight. She knew that logically. So then why did her stomach give a nauseating flip that threatened to make her turn right back around?
Hermione reminded herself of Sir Francis Bacon's words "Nothing is terrible except fear itself." and took a slow careful step towards the table of refreshments. If she tripped now there would be no doubt of who was under the beautiful mask that hid her identity. Her pace was leisurely and did not betray how her heart fluttered on her way over.
As she stepped up to the table she risked a quick glance around the room. The scattered spectators had turned back to their conversations, drinks or dates. One unfortunate soul, who had already imbibed too much, passed out in the corner. She hoped he had friends who would come and help him to his bed. Preferably before some prankster got a hold of him. A smirk involuntarily crossed her lips as she thought of the different ramifications she had seen older Gryffindors endure over the years due to the same mistake.
"What is so amusing?" a gruff male voice whispered in her ear. The owner was so close she felt his hot breath on her neck and ear, causing her to jump about six inches in the air. To add insult to injury she managed to knock over a large mug of butterbeer. The caramel colored liquid spilled across the wood, snaking its way around the bottoms of other glasses.
"Oh shoot!... Scourgify!" Hermione whispered with a flick of her wand that seconds before was hidden in the waistband of her dress. She hoped no one else had seen the blunder. She could be such a klutz sometimes! Neville was always bullied for it, mostly because the consequences to his mess-ups were usually dire, but it seemed like she was always saying or doing something embarrassing when she wasn't paying enough attention to her surroundings.
She turned around to discover the owner of the voice while she slipped her wand back into its rightful place at her hip. He was still close behind her and there was barely enough room between them for the fullness of her skirt. She felt how the bottom edges brushed against his legs from her movement. The first thing her eyes focused on was the broad chest directly in front of her. It was a magnificent specimen, even while completely covered by the emerald green dress shirt that was tailored expertly to fit tightly to his willowy frame.
As her eyes continued to travel up his neck her heartbeat quickened even faster. It felt like a hummingbird hammering on the inside of her rib cage, trying viciously to break free. The color of his shirt gave away his house affiliation and that was bad enough. Slytherins never got close enough to whisper to her unless they were hissing some vulgar obscenity. She could only guess who the unwelcomed wizard was…
Finally her eyes found their destination and the onyx black eyes of Blaise Zabini stared intently back into her own. The top half of his face was covered in a generic black Zorro-style mask, while the bottom half sported the playboy grin he was so infamous for. The one that was known to make every girl within twenty feet of him swoon any time he unleashed it upon another unsuspecting victim.
"I... I was thinking of how that poor gentleman over there is going to need a friend to save him from some idiot who thinks of themselves as comical." She replied, inclining her head towards the incapacitated boy yet not breaking eye contact. Hermione took a quick moment to search for any recognition of who she was and after finding none she was able to relax the tense set of her shoulders. She wanted to be the one to choose if she revealed herself, not have someone else expose her. Especially when she still didn't know for sure if she would be staying. She could always hide out somewhere until curfew had passed and her chances of getting caught were much lower… if she absolutely had to.
He didn't turn to see who she gestured to. It probably didn't matter one iota to him. He continued to stare down at her, searching for something. Undoubtedly her identity, but his scrutiny made her extremely uncomfortable. Somehow it seemed as if he could read her thoughts and knew she was an imposter. Even with that grin plastered on his face, his constant gaze was anything but playful.
Hermione could not figure out why he had taken the time to speak to her. He had the reputation of a ladies man, but there was one difference between Blaise and any other stereotypical example. He didn't need to hunt the girls. They flocked to him of their own volition. And if the chatter was to be believed, he also had the skills to back up any sweet talking he would offer up to his victims. It was odd that he was standing there without an eager witch hanging off of his hip.
She cleared her throat, unable to stand his inspection a moment longer. Her eyes darted over to the corner where two bodies were intertwined so closely it looked as if they were enjoying a bout of cannibalism instead of a makeout session... She felt an unwelcome blush start to creep up her neck and silently prayed Ginny's charms covered it.
"I think he would deserve whatever punishment he receives. Only a dolt would lose himself this early on. Besides, no one here would cause any permanent damage." Blaise responded.
Hermione snorted, "That is such a Slytherin thing to say! Sometimes the worst scars are not etched in skin."
"How astute of you." He acknowledged before he abruptly leaned down so he was directly in her personal space. His lips were only a few inches from hers and the smell of firewhiskey on his breath made her nose twitch, "Would the Lady care to join me for a drink?"
His unnatural closeness made cold shivers run up and down her spine. She could not believe this was actually happening. While Blaise had never attacked her, he had also never shown anything other than extreme indifference for her. Did he really not know who was hiding under the mask? Or was he playing some twisted game of predator and prey?
He… He wouldn't have the gall to poison her, would he? She chided herself at that thought. Blaise wasn't Malfoy for Gods' sake! There was no way he was actually flirting with her?! Ginny had definitely done too well of a job if that was the case. She had just wanted a single night of fun. Not to be the target of the biggest womanizer Hogwarts had the luck to see…
"S...Sure." she stammered. A quick step to the side allowed him to take her place in front of the alcohol. His thin but capable fingers set about the task of pouring them both a shot from an ancient looking bottle. Hermione couldn't stop herself from imagining them running through her hair, something she had overheard that he liked to do from Daphne Greengrass's explanation of their latest tryst to her friends. When he was done he slid the chilled glass into her and then picked up his own.
"To... No permanent damage. Visible or otherwise!" Blaise toasted and his signature smirk eased back into place.
She cocked an eyebrow at his amused jab but still inclined her head, "To no permanent damage."
They both swallowed the burning liquid down. Hermione struggled not to cough as the warmth spread throughout her body, She very rarely drank and she did not want her inexperience to show. She allowed herself to expel the breath she had inhaled right before taking the shot. His eyes never left her face as he took the glass from her and set the matching pair back on to the table.
"Would you like another?" He asked her challengingly. She knew he was appraising her, seeing just how far she was willing to go.
"Yes. Thank you." She answered politely. Why not? It wasn't like she didn't already know she had to tread carefully when it came to Zabini. No matter how entertaining it was to have his affections for the moment, she would never allow herself to end up as another notch on his symbolic bedpost.
While he filled up the glasses again she continued her musings. She wondered what it would be like to be a different girl. One Blaise wouldn't shy away from once he figured out who she was. The type of girl who wouldn't be afraid to fall into his bed... Or the closest broom closet, if that was what they were able to find... He handed her back the glass she had used previously and took up his own.
"What should we toast to this time?"
"To a night of drunken shenanigans." It was her turn to smirk at the amusement that promptly replaced his smug neutrality.
"Here, motherfucking, here!" He exclaimed and they both swallowed the alcohol down in one gulp. His dark eyes kept up their relentless exploration of the parts of her face he could see, before suddenly filling with a mischievous glint as he asked, "Would you like to play a game?"