Serendipity

Chapter 6:

Hermione sat in the Prefect's study before a meeting after the holidays. She looked out the window at the ice that had enveloped much of the grounds. She always felt that when she came back from winter holidays the school was waiting for the students, preserved in a perfect crystallization of itself.

Hermione enjoyed the warm summer air that welcomed the students in September. The rolling green hills of northern Scotland would always have a special place in her heart. Yet, it was the school after winter holidays that made her feel as if the school was frozen in time and space while the students were away simply waiting for their return.

The door to the study opened, diverting Hermione's attention to the newest occupants of the room, the other members of her Prefect group for the first meeting of the new year. Blaise was the last to join them, sliding through the door at the last minute before the start of the meeting.

The meeting was uneventful but productively ended early. Hermione let her eyes dart nervously towards Blaise's occasionally catching him doing the same before both quickly looked anywhere else. This confusion of glances occurred as Ian and Hiroko continued planning in oblivion. The fifth years dashed out quickly as usual leaving Blaise and Hermione alone for the first time since the break.

Hermione had looked forward to seeing Blaise, but now that she was faced with him alone she was not sure if she really wanted to deal with everything. They looked at each other, both unsure of how to act or what to say.

They began to speak at the same time, jittery with the tension in the air. Blaise gentlemanly let Hermione go ahead though, "Have a good holiday?" was all she had in mind to ask.

Blaise smiled. "Yes, the usual, but still good. Yourself?"

"It was a break I needed, we all probably did."

Blaise nodded. They were both quiet for a minute before he began to speak again. "I can't do DA anymore," he said looking at the floor.

Hermione looked up at Blaise confused. He seemed to enjoy the meeting. "Wha- why?"

Blaise looked down at his hands. "I just can't anymore."

"Is everything all right? I thought you liked the meeting you'd gone to."

Blaise's eyes flicked up to Hermione's. "It's nothing. I just can't." He held her eyes for another moment.

Hermione wasn't sure what changed, but she didn't like it. "Why? Did someone say something? Is this because of Zacharias? Or did -"

"No! I said I can't and that's the end of it." Blaise slammed a book down startling Hermione as he had never been angry like this before. She was hurt and he recognized that immediately, but the damage was done. "I, I'm sorry." He moved to touch her hand and she jerked away. She tried to smooth the action out by reaching for a quill, but it was obvious to both of them what she had done.

Blaise's eyes had grown dark, his brow furrowed. "I should go." He got up and left the room without saying another word, at the door he glanced back for a moment before leaving.

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Regardless of greater changes in the world, some things never vary from year to year. Hermione sat with Harry and Ron at breakfast along with other boys from their form since her first year. She never thought to sit with the other girls. Something about their conversations bored her, but then again Quidditch was not the most exciting topic of conversation to her either though such a statement would go against the heart and soul of her meal time companions. The truth was that the girls didn't much want to sit with her their first year and the boys were rather indifferent.

It was as she came into the Great Hall a week later that she thought about the simplicity of her place at the table and how much it revealed about herself and where she was in relation to the other members of her House.

Hermione looked over at Lavender and Grace Livingston giggling while Parvati grew red at the other end of the table. She placed her bag beneath the space in the bench that was always hers. From there she looked over the four tables as her spot afforded her a view of the whole school.

The closest table was filled with joyful and boisterous Hufflepuffs talking loudly as they leaned all over each other grabbing for food. Beyond them, Hermione caught a haughty Ravenclaw look disdainfully at their antics. She was surrounded by quiet conversations and polite manners in stark contrast to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, but not all too different then the table in green just past hers.

Hermione did not have much time to analyze this last table as the post came in, drawing everyone's attention. She didn't think much of the Daily Prophet when it landed in front of her. Paying the owl she let her gaze drift over the other students before lazily landing back to the paper.

The noise around her alerted her to a change in the atmosphere before she could comprehend the cause of it. Slowly the room went from garbbled, but upbeat conversations to hushed and hurried whispering. Lucius Malfoy Escapes! read the headline continued by a lesser one: Safety In Azkaban Doubtful as Top Death Eater Walks Out.

She put her newspaper down from her face as she scanned those faces immediately near hers. Harry rushed through lines of text on the front page as Ron looked over his shoulder. Neville had gone white when Dean told him the news off of Ginny's copy. Hufflepuffs gathered around those with papers and the girl who was passing judgment on them earlier was now busy talking over the issue with those around her. The only table seemingly unaffected was the last group of noble Slytherins.

Not a one looked surprised by the news. Some of the upper classmen had the sense to feign shock, but it wasn't convincing. The slow devious smile that spread across Draco Malfoy's face was not the expression of one who just learned that his father was now free.

Hermione's eyes stayed the longest on the furthest House trying hopelessly to discern their feelings on the faces of those far away. Draco was surrounded by his usual group. Pansy was on his right talking quickly in spurts when she wasn't trying to look superior. Crabbe and Goyle sat across glaring at anyone who would dare mention the news to their charge.

Hermione's field of vision expanded to see that Theodore Nott was on Draco's left across from Millicent and next to none other than Blaise Zabini. This group of three was not as far from the center as she had always imagined. Even during her initial infatuation with the silent Slytherin, her focus never expanded to find Draco not two seats away. The three of them created a quiet shield of protection around them; she never thought to look who was trusted to be closest to the bubble.

Blaise was also watching the crowd as the news broke. He did not react at all to the news. His expression did not change from the one he often wore in classes.

He knew. There was no question of doubt as Hermione looked at him. He knew.

The impassive mask broke when Blaise's eyes met Hermione's, but only for a split second. Was that guilt? Regret? Hermione continued to hold his gaze, but did not receive the pleasure of broken concentration for a second time; nor did any emotion pass to her from those now impersonal eyes. Hermione felt the rip between them more deeply than ever in that moment as they battled with each other through eye contact.

Looking down at her hands she tried to repress the overwhelming feeling of sadness that threatened to release itself in tears. As everyone came to the end of the article three houses erupted in noise as the fourth watched with a gleam in their eye.

"What the fuck?" Ron brought Hermione's attention back to her own table.

"It's official. The dementors are lost." Harry said under his breath.

"How does the Ministry just allow Voldemort's third in command to waltz out of Azkaban?" Ron was red with anger to the tips of his ears.

"We expected this," Hermione said quietly, trying not to bring attention to what the three of them knew and didn't know.

Neville was shaking slightly. "This isn't right. This isn't right," he kept repeating to himself.

The volume grew in the hall as the initial shock disappeared. Hermione looked to the head table where the Headmaster sat quietly with his eyes closed taking in the conversations around him. McGonagall's already perfect posture remained straight as a broomstick as she remained calm and not all that surprised from the news either.

As the chaos grew it was clear that the school needed direction from the head table where Dumbledore now stood. "Regardless of any news, this is still a school." Dumbledore said, silencing the crowd. "And a safe place for all of you to be."

Hermione could just make out Ron's critique of that statement from where he sat on her right. "And December was . . . ?"

"Never put out of your mind the current events of the day as they are what your education will be applied to." He took a breath before beginning again loudly. "Yet, keep on track to sufficiently learn your lessons for a time will come when you are the front line and this education will prove its value practically. Until then, go to class and learn all you can."

Only one thought ran continuously through Hermione's head as she headed for class that morning.

He knew.

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A couple weeks later Blaise trailed after Hermione in the crowded market place that was the centre of Hogsmeade. She kept her pace quick trying to steer clear of real contact with Blaise as much as the other shoppers. She also felt better being in control of any situation and at the moment this was the only way she knew how to with the boy in question.

When Hermione stopped abruptly in front of one shop, Blaise barely avoided crashing into her with a smooth sidestep. She felt the soft pressure of his hand on her lower back as he undertoned, "Careful there."

"I've got things under control," she snapped.

Hermione stopped for a moment in her head. When had she reverted to her more cynical side? At the end of last term she would have sworn that it was Blaise that steered her away from that very mindset, yet here she was bitterly spitting words at him and not bearing to spend time with him either. He had become something other than she thought he was and she could not tell who was really at fault for that. The more cynical side of her said it was her own fault for trusting a Slytherin. The optimist in her wanted her to continue having faith in him. At the moment, she felt more compelled to follow with her former self.

The two were in Hogsmeade that weekday afternoon getting supplies for Serendipity as the other two members of their group did not have leave off the grounds except on specific weekends and sixth years had just been granted the freedom in their second term. Had the shopping trip been two months, no, even two weeks ago, Hermione would have reveled in time alone with Blaise. Now, however, she felt a leaden weight settle in her stomach when she was reminded of the trip the day before.

So much had changed. Not only between the two of them, but also in the world. Lucius had escaped Azkaban, the Ministry was in shambles putting newly elected Minister Bones in a frenzy, the Order seemed in such a state of disarray she'd rather not think of it, and, possibly the worst of it, Draco had regained his position as Head Annoying Prat of Hogwarts. Her relationship with Blaise seemed to be more of a side note to history than the major event at the moment.

"Robes, Hermione?" It was Blaise's deep voice that brought her back to the busy streets.

"No, cloth." Hermione looked at her list with all the measurements they needed in each House color. "Not paying attention in the meeting?" she smiled slightly to herself as she looked over the rest of the list.

"No reason for me to, when I know you will." Blaise tried to connect with Hermione, but she had become a brick wall. Jokes she would have blushed or laughed at now did nothing, just as this one didn't.

"Cloth," she said again to keep her mind on task. She turned quickly into the shop, all business.

Exiting the shop some twenty minutes later, orders in place, they returned to the street. The sun made shadows long and colors yellow as it began to set.

"It's getting late," Blaise said as they turned a corner. He hated when he spoke like that, stating the obvious. He used to be like a song his muggle cousin loved:

When I have nothing to say,

My lips are sealed.

Say something once,

Why say it again?^§

Now Blaise found himself trying to fill awkward silences. Not with everyone, but around Hermione he tried everything he could to regain the comfortable flow of their old conversations. He did it to himself and he knew it. But there was no way out of it. You don't have control over everything. Something has to be sacrificed for every action, for every choice, he reminded himself.

"It is, isn't it?" Draco Malfoy leaned cockily against a wall of the Apothecary. "Late," he explained the question on their faces. "What are you two doing out on a night like this? Romantic excursion between rivals?"

"Bugger off, Malfoy." Hermione began to walk away when Malfoy grabbed her wrist. Blaise tensed at this, unsure what was about to happen and what he'd really do if he was pushed to make a decision.

"Don't speak to me like that."

"I'll speak however I like." Hermione pulled her wrist free. As she rubbed where he grabbed her, Hagrid and McGonagall came around the corner talking casually on their way the Three Broomsticks a little ways down the road. Hermione did not call out to them, but she promptly left as Malfoy realized he couldn't do anything then.

Blaise followed quickly behind and pulled Hermione to a side street once Malfoy was gone. "You can't do that." His voice was low and urgent.

"Do what?"

"Act like that with Malfoy." Blaise brushed his fringe out of his eyes before continuing. "He is not someone to hastily brush off and insult."

"I do nothing without an element of caution, Zabini." Hearing his last name stung Blaise. "I know what the consequences are, but you cannot let people walk all over you, taking advantage of you."

"Do you really understand them? Do you really know what goes on in our House?" Blaise shook his head. "You wouldn't. A Gryffindor sees everything black and white."

"We obviously have a difference of opinion then." She walked a step before turning back to Blaise looking him right in the eye. "I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"There are certain natural reactions a person has. When a person treats me badly, I stand up for myself. Another treats me well, I show my appreciation." She stopped a moment before continuing. "When a third confuses the hell out of me I try to make sense of things. These are natural reactions to other people, Blaise."

There was quiet a moment and he moved an immeasurable distance closer to her. "You make no allowances for an individual that is not blatant?" he asked in a whisper rumbling in his deep, low voice. "Obvious?" he continued and moved closer still. "Someone tries as they might and you dismiss them?"

"If I'm confused," she took a breath trying to stand her ground. "I try to wait until I have all the information I need."

"That kind of caution will get you nowhere, Miss Granger."

"Are you challenging me?"

Blaise didn't answer at first as he thought carefully about what he could say while trying to regain his control over the English language not wanting to repeat the obvious. He felt content simply staring into those dark pools of brown infinitely while he thought. "You are always up for a challenge, am I right? You did say something to the effect of that at the beginning of the year if I am correct."

The space between them had shrunk to a few bare inches. "Always," she said scarcely audible. When she pulled away from him to turn back down the alley and to the High Street she left a vacuum and Blaise in her wake where thick tension hung moments before.

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As January turned to February, Ron's Prefect group began to panic. Pansy had one idea and the three boys in her group had others. Two weeks prior to the event they still had no plans, let alone posters or announcements.

Oppositely, Hermione's group kept plugging away. Most of the bands were booked and they were working out scheduling issues along with event spaces, but the group was not worried that everything would be nailed down within the month.

Hermione was studying late in the Common Room with Harry one night when Ron came in looking distressed. He was still in his school uniform, his tie was loose and his hair mussed, looking exactly as he did coming out of finals every year.

"Rough night?" Harry asked.

"Pansy is insufferable. Just because Valentine's Day occurs in this month our event has to incorporate it. She's just like Lockhart." He flopped down on the couch next to Harry. "I almost don't care at this point. But we need something."

"No plans then? No ideas?" Hermione asked.

"No plans, no ideas, no date, no order, no direction of any kind." Ron closed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't want to do this."

"Well, it's only the 4^th. You could have your event on the 28^th. Still got loads of time." Harry began to put away his books.

"We could, but it's unlikely that would fix anything." Ron lay there lethargically soaking in rest.

"I'm sure you'll figure something out." Harry stood and began to cross to the stairs. "But for now, I'm off to bed."

"Sleeping?" Hermione asked in mock shock. "That's new for you."

"Goodnight," Harry smiled at her before turning up the stairs. Ron waved his hand lazily in the air as Harry left.

"Is it that bad then?" Hermione asked Ron after Harry ascended the stairs.

"Worse." Ron sat upright with much effort. "How's your group doing?"

Hermione's heart strings pulled. She felt almost guilty for the success of her group thinking of the failure Ron's had turned out to be. "We still have a bit of work to be done, but everything seems to be falling into place."

"How are you?" Ron looked right at her trying to find the answer on her face.

"I'm good," she said noncommittally.

"You're lying," He smiled. "Okay, maybe not lying, but you haven't seemed, I don't know, to have the same energy as last term, I guess that's it."

"Energy?" Hermione raised one eyebrow and almost smirked at him.

"What? I think I heard Lavender use it recently in class." Ron rubbed his eyes looking slightly embarrassed. "Besides, you didn't answer the question."

"Oh, I'm fine." Hermione wasn't sure what Ron was trying to get at, but felt that he had a purpose in his questions. "Maybe a little more tired than last semester, but things are always picking up pace. Class work and our project."

"Don't remind me." Ron stopped a moment before deciding to go on. "I'm not completely thick. I know there is something else." He looked at her sideways trying to gauge her reaction. "How's, erm, Blaise?"

Hermione looked up, startled at the direct question. "He's fine I suppose." She realized the big step it was for him to even ask. He deserved a full and truthful response. The two of them needed to share a completely honest conversation. "Things have changed, and I don't know what or why they have."

"Did something happen?"

"Obviously, but if I knew what than this wouldn't be so frustrating." Hermione placed her books to the side. "This must be hard for you." She held her breath as she waited for his response in the silence.

Ron looked at his hands for a moment for answering. "I kind of knew that you didn't feel the same way and then when I realized that you liked him instead, well, it wasn't the best feeling." He looked up at her. "Sorry that I got drunk as a result."

"I won't mention anything about an under-aged Prefect breaking the law," she joked.

"Too late." He took a breath. "So you really like the guy?"

They'd only interacted because of their project since returning to school. They would stay back afterwards to talk occasionally. Sometimes it seemed apparent to Hermione that he was flirting with her, but that wasn't possible, was it? Regardless that he had kissed her, she still had trouble believing he really could like her. It didn't help that with his current cryptic behavior he could change his attitude towards her in an instance. She wasn't entirely sure she liked the idea of him liking her anymore.

"I don't know. I mean, yes, I think I like him, but lately, things have been . . . weird."

"When aren't they?" Ron asked.

"You should be happy to know that he's not coming to DA anymore."

"Not if it doesn't make you happy." Ron looked at her. "I know there isn't a chance for me, so this isn't coming from jealousy." He laughed momentarily. "Okay, maybe a little." Taking a breath he asked, "Are you sure you trust him?"

"I trust him, or at least learned to last term, but something is different." Hermione pushed back a piece of hair. "I keep saying that, but it's the only way to describe the change. I don't know. I did trust him, but I'm not truly sure of anything since break."

"You know he isn't allowed to hurt you," Ron sat up. "And I'm not just talking about what I would do to him."

"You were just drunk." Hermione tried to wave it off. Ron's eyes were serious suddenly and it slightly scared her.

"I was drunk because of you. And I'm not lying." Ron looked down at his hands for a second. "I'm not the only one." Hermione was impressed by Ron's honesty thus far. She recognized how hard this conversation must have been for him. "Harry would stand up for you without a second thought. You're part of the only family he has." He laughed, "Besides the whole of Gryffindor would just love another reason to rip a Slytherin apart." He smiled at her. "Whatever happens, even if you trust him, remember Moody - constant vigilance."

"Why do you think nothing's happened since we've been back?"

Ron turned to look at her, "Moody?"

"No, not Moody himself. Heaven help us if Moody decided to give out love advice." Hermione shook her head. "I don't know about Blaise, but for me, the Winter Ball proved that nothing is sacred. So why should any relationship. What's the point of starting something now? Especially something so difficult? You can't lose what you never had."

"But you can't have what you've never had either." Ron proved her wrong so simply. "And as I understand it, it is difficult because it's worth it. In fact, if I were you I'd be happy for the events of that night. It conveniently distracted Malfoy from you two's disappearance during the Ball. If anything does end up happening, I'd put Galleons on Malfoy not making it easy. But all this is getting too deep for me. I've done my understanding best friend duty for about a million years." He stood and stretched. "I need sleep. G'night." He rubbed her hair before climbing the stairs to bed. She hated that. He knew how hard her hair was to control; he shouldn't make it more difficult.

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Finally it was announced. Finally Ron's forehead creases smoothed. Finally there was an event for the last Saturday in February.

The group reluctantly came to an agreement over ice skating of all things. When faced with limited options and constraints of time the group at last pulled through. Seamus, trying to make Ron feel better Hermione was sure, mentioned a wise Irish saying to the temperamental redhead moments before he received a stray couch cushion to the face. Hermione had to agree with Seamus in that "nothing would get done if it weren't for last minutes," but did not feel that now was the time to let Ron know that.

Luckily the event settled on did not require much from the organizers; ice, skate rentals, and hot chocolate as far as Ron let on. To Hermione, it sounded as if a good old fashioned Muggle skating night was planned, but also felt that Pansy would not appreciate hearing that anything she produced could be linked to Muggles.

The afternoon of the event, Hermione spied Ron arguing outside with his group members around the frozen lake in the fading light. Pansy appeared to be holding up decorations in pink and magenta hues as she shouted red face at Ron and Michael Corner. Benjamin, the fourth member of the group, changed the colors of the decoration to Hufflepuff yellow behind their backs and seemed to be quite enjoying himself by ignoring the blazing row occurring between the members of his group.

Hermione had a small giggle to herself before turning back to her work. As she left to change into warmer clothes for the evening's festivities Blaise came into the library behind Theodore Nott, Terence McCarter, and Millicent Bullstrode. Blaise made no acknowledgement of her as she slid past the group even as Millicent grunted at her causing Terence to raise an eyebrow and look disdainfully at Hermione as she carried five books away with her clearly revealing that he'd never carry that much on his own.

Dropping an ancient language translator, Blaise stooped to reach for it meeting her eyes for a brief moment as if to say sorry. She looked at the backs of the retreating members of the group to avoid his eyes after a minute. When he did not follow behind immediately Terence looked back over his shoulder and drawled, "No reason to spend more time with filth than needed, Zabini."

At this Theodore jerked slightly as Millicent looked smugly on. Hermione could not understand the girl, one parent was a Muggle and yet she was part of the Inquisitorial Squad and seemingly lacked any feelings against those in the majority of her House. Blaise at least had the decency to blush at the comment his eyes pleading with Hermione one last time before trailing behind. To the whole encounter Hermione came off chillingly, unable to convey any emotion to Blaise or trust his.

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"This is it!" Ron sat down cheerily next to Hermione at dinner. "Done! I'm done!" He sounded almost hysterical. "The old loon can take these plans in the future and give them to someone else. There's no way I'm doing this again. Ha!"

"All set up then?" Hermione asked between mouthfuls of potatoes.

"Yes, and I can taste the freedom." Ron reached for some food. "But now it is time to taste some of this deliciousness called food." He proceeded to pile his plate high and then gobble every bit down. "Errrs mmph 'Arry? 'Aven't eenim aaahhl," he swallowed, "day."

"Pardon? You what mumble mumble what 'day'?" Hermione laughed at him.

"Harry, Harry. I haven't seen him at all today." He gulped at his juice. The boy did nothing when it came to food if it weren't messily cramming more than he could in his mouth at once. "Have you?" He proceeded to wipe his mouth with his shirt sleeve.

"No, believe he went into town this morning. Something about the apothecary and needing ingredients." Ron's brow wrinkled at this. "Something wrong?"

"Hermione, I don't know how wrapped up in all this Serendipity stuff you've been - I have been too, but I don't think he's doing well. Why did he say he needed ingredients? What's he got up his sleeve?" He grabbed more bread from the basket in front of Hermione.

Hermione realized that he was right; she hadn't paid attention to much in the past few weeks back at school. It didn't seem terribly strange to her. She was vigilant as ever. It was Hermione who scoured the papers and reported to the rest of the group. In the past Harry's intuition would alert them to when and what they should be looking out for, but within the last year he'd kept more to himself. While Hermione and Ron had been busy, Luna and Neville had become his companions.

It didn't help that they were always on alert and therefore increasing the possibility of dropping things here and there. While Hermione kept on top of the situation with Voldemort, was it so much for her to expect the Order to be taking care of things as she balanced class and now this project? Ron's anxiety over his event had also pulled back Harry's resources. Especially with the Azkaban breakout and mysterious disappearances she should have known better, but she got the distinct impression that no one seemed to really have a clue or at least didn't want anyone thinking they did.

Her increasing confusion with her Slytherin partner did not help matters and while she should have been concentrating on one of a million other things, Hermione's attention was drawn increasingly to the conundrum that was Blaise Zabini.

"I don't know," she acknowledged. "But we always go off on our private enterprises. We always get caught up in other things. This year it's dictated by Dumbledore."

"But before at least we'd be talking. About his scar, premonitions, Quidditch even for Merlin's sake." Ron's voice, as had Hermione's, had become hushed and hurried. "I'm worried. I admit it."

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Harry never showed up to dinner that night, but Hermione did watch him that night out skating and he seemed better than she'd seen him in a while. He had an extra bounce in his step and more energy than should be possible with the amount of sleep he received. She felt better and moved on to watch everyone as she often found herself doing. Ron may have felt that it was a poor excuse for an event, but Hermione thought the group did brilliantly.

Growing up in the Borders with a pond in her neighborhood that always froze over, Hermione was a confident skater. Nothing amazing, she could go backwards and do some simple turns as well as avoid falling on most occasions, but she never took to curling or other ice sports the way others in her neighborhood had.

Though it wasn't Hermione's own love for the sport that made her appreciate the evening's festivities, but also how it brought the other students together. The event way non-magical. A couple booths on the lake were set up for hot chocolate, mulled wine, and warm butterbeers along with small fires along the edges of the event sending sparks into the air every bit as beautiful as the most magical of fairy lights glittering in trees could be. The clear night would have given everyone more than a simple chill if it weren't for the wizards that invented outside heating systems.

For the first time a Prefect group had created an event that crossed most of the lines present among the students of Hogwarts. There was no correlation to bloodlines or wealth and skating ability. Ron was practically doing triple axles as he showed off on the ice as Blaise stayed near the edged holding on to what he could to stay up on the skates regardless that they both had equally long and true bloodlines. Harry had never skated before, but other Muggle-raised students felt more at home on skates then their own two feet like Justin who glowed as he swept round the ice dodging in and out of the other skaters.

Hermione felt the need to show Justin up slightly, proving that he wasn't the only speed demon on the ice. She was never what you'd call athletic, but on skates Hermione felt like she could fly and fly she did as she chased after the Hufflepuff unannounced. He turned to see her behind him and quickened his pace. Darting in and out of other students, Hermione grazed her arm against Seamus causing them both to spill on the ice. Justin turned sharply up ahead to grin at her boastfully. "Good try!" he yelled good-naturedly as Seamus gave Hermione an arm up.

"If you're that good," she paused to catch her breath, "You wouldn't mind a fair rematch."

Justin laughed, "Sure, I'll take you all on." He acted more conceited than typical of his Hufflepuff background, so he must have been sure of himself for such a claim.

"He asked for it," Seamus whispered conspiratorially to Hermione, giving her a mischievous smile.

The word got around to everyone quickly and five minutes found Hermione lined up with about twenty other students from the sixth and seventh years who thought they were good enough to race and not make a fool of themselves. Some, notably Petra, a Gryffindor seventh year, seemed only interested in the race for a good laugh and a fun time as she joked around with Nathan and Michael on either side of her. Others such as Justin had a point to prove.

Each House was fairly represented with Slytherin having the least among of participants feeling they were above the race. Malfoy, for one, sat comfortably on the side content to smirk at the participants. The only two Slytherins were Warrington and another nameless seventh year. Most of those on the ice were in it for a good time, but Warrington made Hermione nervous so she moved further along the line next to Justin and Padma.

Madam Hooch, ever the sporting enthusiast, let the starting bang ring out and the race began. Hermione felt pretty confident as she began. She barely took in Dean's early spill on the ice moments after the start. Nor did she notice Warrington's dangerous skates used to cause another spill between two Ravenclaws, but when she heard later she was not surprised, but pleased at her choice to move.

All Hermione saw was the red line in the distance on the ice. She encouraged her body to move forward as her thigh muscles began to burn. On the edge of her vision she was aware of Padma just behind her and Justin a good foot or two ahead. The only others near the three of them were Nathan, Ron and two Hufflepuffs.

Hermione began to gain on Justin, never losing Padma just behind her. Justin was focused on the line alone and never realized his lost lead. Nathan caught his attention and in that moment of lost concentration Hermione pulled ahead. For a brief moment Hermione thought she'd do it. She never thought it possible, but she could win. In the last ten feet Padma pushed through to victory, closely followed by Nathan. It was only after Hermione crossed the line with Justin tied in third that she heard the roar of the crowd.

Breathing hard she looked around at the scene. Justin was apologizing for his arrogance of earlier to which Hermione just waved him off and the two congratulated Padma. From what she could tell Warrington gave up on the race halfway when he saw it was hopeless to win. Ron came in fifth and slapped Hermione on the back in congratulations. "I never knew you could do that." He was incredulous and obviously proud to be her friend.

"What? Surprised that I'm not all books?" she asked between gasps of air with a large smile.

"No, you're not just that." He gave her a big grin. "Good job."

Hermione was unaware that throughout the evening's events, one pair of eyes had followed her waiting for a quiet moment to talk with her out of the way from everyone else. As everyone filtered into the castle again, Hermione hung back to offer her help cleaning up, much to the aggravation of the tall Slytherin. Ron told her that she did too much and pushed her back in the direction of the school. Good man, Blaise thought before grabbing his only chance to speak with her in private.

Blaise caught up with her at the front steps. "You were excellent out there," he said finally. Hermione spun around to see him two steps below her. He slowly walked towards her and she felt her heart flutter at the same time as anger boiled in her veins.

"You do have a tongue then?"

"Last time I checked." He stuck it out. "Yes, still there." He smiled at her warmly.

Hermione nodded as if this satisfied her and then turned back to the great oak doors, the handle clutched as Blaise, loosing all his calm, called out, "Wait."

"Why should I?" she asked still facing the door. "You only have time for me now when it fits your schedule."

Hermione pulled open the door and walked through it before she could hear him say, "It's not like that," even as he questioned himself as to whether it was indeed exactly like that.

^§ Talking Heads "Psycho Killer"