Chance Encounters

Chapter 3:

2 September 1993

Hermione got to her third class of the day with enough time to spare. She quite enjoyed the feeling of the Time Turner that hung around her neck beneath her robes. More than using it she enjoyed what it meant, and although she was partly worried about the potential confusion it would cause, she brushed that thought away.

Arranging her quills, parchment, and texts on her desk for Ancient Runes she could barely suppress the excitement of taking new classes. It was a small class and she knew everyone in it so far.

Blaise walked into the classroom just in time for it to start. Sitting behind Hermione, he whispered "So we meet again."

"It seems that," Hermione acknowledged. She turned around to face him. "What else are you taking? Let me see your timetable." Glancing over it she noticed that they shared a couple other classes, but only Arithmancy was without Harry and Ron. "Pretty full," she nodded.

"And yours then?" Blaise's eyebrows shot up when he got a look of her schedule over her shoulder. "I'd say that's an impossible one, but then again it's you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione looked worriedly at him while trying to cover up the particularly tricky parts of it.

"Just that if anyone could do it, you can, but not if you don't pay attention." He pointed to the front of the room and she turned around quickly to hear the professor's introduction.

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One afternoon Hermione was working in the back of the library in a nook overlooking the grounds when Blaise sat down. "I don't get it."

Hermione blinked at the boy sitting across from her. "I see..." She took a breath. "What don't you get?"

"Goblins."

"Oh," she nodded. "That makes more sense." Hermione chewed on her lip a moment before continuing. "They tend to be shorter than the average wizard," she began with a smile, "magical but in a uniquely different wa -"

"No. Their language." Blaise's brow was creased with lines. It was clearly difficult for him to ask anyone for help. Cautious glances around the area told Hermione that he didn't want anyone else knowing that he needed it. She stopped teasing him and picked up a book off her enormous pile.

"For Ancient Runes, this'll help. And if not, I'll be here if I'm in the library. Stop by if you need me."

Blaise gave her a look of gratitude for making this easier on him. "Thanks."

The next week after class, he came by the nook again. "I was wondering if you understood that new formula for Arithmancy," he asked, after returning her book.

"Not quite, but I have an idea of where to start." Blaise took a seat and they analyzed each other's notes.

The third week that Blaise came by he began, once again, by asking a question. "In Potions, do you -"

"You can just study here if you want." Hermione looked up at him from where she sat. "I don't need to be your encyclopedia. You don't need an excuse."

Blaise's cheeks pinked; after all, Zabinis never need excuses, least of all for spending time with annoying Gryffindors. That's right, said a treasonous part of his mind, even if you don't think she's so annoying anymore.

By October of that term Hermione and Blaise had a routine of studying together. In the back of the library they would share a table and work. They would enjoy each other's companionship without any mention of House rivalries and no one had a problem with the arrangement as no one else knew.

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21 September (present day)

Weaving her way through the crowded pub Hermione looked for her friends and was welcomed to the back of the pub by cheers. "Happy Birthday, Hermione," Harry greeted before pecking her on the cheek. "How are ya, darling?"

Hermione was overcome with emotion at seeing her friend after so long; she simply wrapped her arms around him in a huge hug of relief after the trying week she'd had. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I needed this."

"Well don't just hang around with me, say hi to everyone else. Beside I don't want that cute bloke at the bar to get the wrong idea." He raised his eyebrows and nodded his head towards the object of his affection and she laughed whole-heartedly.

"Okay, okay." She backed off from her friend before turning to find that many more surrounded her. Greeting them all she felt so lucky to have them. Ron gave her a hug as she became distracted by the tall, dark haired man that had just entered the pub and was making his way towards them. She stood there surprised and her heart fluttered when his eyes met hers. Parting from Ron, she walked to him.

"Hello, love," Blaise leaned into kiss her on the cheek just as Harry had, but whispered, "You look ravishing."

Blushing, she pulled away, "I'm glad you came."

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A few hours and many drinks later, Hermione was left with only the stragglers. Ron held his girlfriend, Holly, in a corner whispering things to her that made her increasingly grow red. Ginny giggled with Hermione about something Dean had done a week before as the poor man tried to defend himself. Harry had tried and failed to chat up the guy at the bar now found himself ordering yet another pint.

"Martini, please," Blaise ordered while taking a seat next to Harry.

"Are those any good?" Harry asked.

"I like them, and besides, they make me feel classy. Even if I'm not." Harry looked at the fedora hanging on the back of the chair at this comment and chuckled to himself.

"Who else could pull off that ridiculous hat?"

"It's not ridiculous!" Blaise said, quick to the defense.

"No, no, mate. Not on you." Harry shook his head for extra emphasis. "Only on the rest of the world." Blaise eyed him suspiciously, but took his excuses nonetheless. "So, why are you here?"

"Italian Embassy is in town and -"

"No, I've heard that already. Here. Why are you here?" Harry took a sip. "After all this time, why are you barging back into her life?"

"I wouldn't say 'barging' -"

"You're here. You don't have to be. Why?"

"Hermione's ... she's brilliant. I'm like a moth to a flame. I can't stay away."

"That's bullshit and you know it." Harry smiled at Blaise. "Yes, she's brilliant, but you didn't have to come back to London."

"No, I didn't." Blaise turned so he could see Hermione laughing with Ginny and smiled to himself.

"You really confused her last time." Despite his alcohol intake, Harry's voice was sober. "I remember school, even if you don't."

Blaise turned back to Harry, his face a careful and cultivated mask, his eyes distant. "I remember."

"Don't do it again, Zabini," Harry tried to discern something, anything, by looking at the man's face, but failed. "Don't mess with her only to leave her again."

"She left me before I left her." He said it so quietly that Harry barely heard it and understood it even less. Blaise shook his head taking his eyes off Hermione after she smiled at him.

"Then why are you here?"

"I would never forgive myself if I didn't try." Taking and paying for his martini, he paused a moment. "I know to tread carefully. But I need to try."

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Blaise walked Hermione home to her flat over Diagon Alley that night. He put a protective arm around her that in her tipsy state she eagerly snuggled into. It was comfortable and it fit just right. His sigh of contentment went unnoticed as she babbled about Ginny and Ron and Dean and Harry and how wonderful each of them was in their own special way.

"And you," she said finally. "I didn't mean to leave you out." Hermione twisted to look at his face instead of where she was headed, trusting him to lead her safely.

Looking down at her, Blaise moved to wipe an eyelash from her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered shut. "Make a wish," he breathed. Opening her eyes, she never took them off his as she blew the eyelash away. He wanted so much to kiss her right then, but remembering everything surrounding them he thought it was for the best to wait and be careful.

Treading lightly, just as he told Harry he would, Blaise escorted Hermione home. He checked that everything was okay in the flat as she changed and then he tucked her into bed. Smoothing the hair away from her forehead, he looked at her blissful sleep before planting a kiss on her forehead. Hermione moved at this, her brow wrinkled, and then she fell deeper into sleep.

"Goodnight, Hermione, mia cara^§," Blaise whispered into the night before Apparating away.

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13 January 1994

"You okay?" Blaise looked worriedly at the crying girl, unsure of what to do. All he had wanted was a book from the shelf behind her, but knew enough that it would be rude to grab it now. The girl looked up to see who had intruded in her place of solace. "Hermione?" Blaise knelt down to the only Gryffindor he knew. "You all right?" he asked knowing the answer full well on his own. "What happened?"

Hermione sniffed, wiping the back of her hand across her nose. "I'm fine," she insisted. "Stupid boys don't understand when someone is trying to do something for the best. Instead they blame you for something you have no control over." Her fingers went to her eyes brushing off tears in a calming motion to smooth her anxiety. "I'm fine," she reasserted mostly to herself.

Blaise gave her a hand up and she thanked him. "You sure? If there's anything . . ."

"I'm fine."

"Well, you're the one that's always right." Hermione smiled at Blaise in response. "I know we barely know each other, but ..." he looked a bit unsure of himself and clearly uncomfortable. "I'm around if you need to talk." Running a hand through his hair he continued to babble, "You probably don't want to, but -"

"Thank you, Blaise." Hermione was genuinely touched. Harry and Ron, the 'stupid boys' in question, never thought to listen to her problems and here was someone male offering her that very service, unbelievable. "That would be nice." And so they settled into a nook in the library as she told him the situation of the broomstick, Crookshanks, and that horrid rat, Scabbers.

"Can't be easy to deal with amid all your classes," Blaise ventured curious as to how she did it.

Hermione smiled slightly, waving it off. "That's fine."

"I'm glad, because I don't have any advice to offer on the other stuff."

"Wasn't looking for any, but thanks." Hermione shrugged.

"But I didn't really help you out at all."

"You did," she said. "You were here. You listened."

^§ 'mia cara': 'my beloved,' Italian