Falling For The First Time

Hermione strode into the library, her Arithmancy and Potions textbook tucked under her arm. She passed a group of third-year Hufflepuffs that she tutored in Transfiguration. One of them greeted her with a wave. She returned it, smiling faintly.

She chose a table in the back, one close to the Restricted Section and away from the other tables. It was "her" table, the one she had used since her first year at Hogwarts. It was a place to think, a place to hide, and, best of all, a place to do her schoolwork.

Hermione dropped her books onto the table with a thunk! and yanked off her bag. She plopped into the chair with a sigh, rubbing the space between her eyebrows with a thumb and index finger.

It was too much. It was just too much. Sirius was gone, Dumbledore was an idiot, Harry was clinically depressed, Ron was emotionally scarred from the Department of Mysteries, and she still couldn't move without wincing. And, to top it all off, she had three scrolls on Truth Potions for Snape due next week, and she hadn't even started it. Everything was piling up, and she couldn't climb out.

Hermione opened up her Potions textbook to the index, and began looking for Veritaserum. As she flipped through the pages, she pulled parchment, quill, and an inkbottle out of her open bag.

Footsteps reached her ears. Hermione's head jerked up, her eyes searching for the one who was intruding into her private space. She slid her hand into the pocket of her robes, grasping the handle of her wand. When the footsteps became louder, she whipped it out and pointed it at the person who was stepping out between two bookcases.

His hands immediately went into the air in surrender. Hermione slowly lowered her wand, returning it to her pocket. His hands dropped to his sides.

"Zabini," she said shortly.

"Granger," he replied. His bag hung casually over his shoulder, hands tucked loosely in his trouser pockets. He was fully clad in Muggle clothes, surprising for a Slytherin. "Snape's essay?"

Hermione nodded. "I want to get a good start on it."

Zabini's mouth curled into a faint smile. "Figured you'd be in here." He gestured to the other end of the table. "Mind if I sit? All the other tables are full of chattering younger students. I know you'll be quiet."

Hermione shrugged. "As long as you don't make noise, it's okay, I suppose."

Zabini smiled again. He took the other chair, opening up his bag. Hermione turned back to her Potions essay, and began to write.

Truth Potions are a type of potion that force you to tell the truth, hence the name. The most powerful type of Truth Serum is Veritaserum. Three drops of this Ministry-controlled potion will have you answering any question truthfully.

A common type of Truth Potion is

Hermione stopped to look through her textbook again. She wasn't quite sure of this one, but she had heard Snape mention it in one of his lectures...

As she ran her finger down the index, Zabini scratched his head and frowned at his parchment. At the sound, Hermione looked up, but he seemed to be ignoring her.

What did she know about Blaise Zabini, anyway? Not much, Hermione realised. All she knew was that he was in the same year as she, in Slytherin, and best friends with Theodore Nott. Both of them seemed oblivious to the pureblood nonsense that the Malfoys followed.

They had met in their Arithmancy class in their third year. Professor Vector had decided to partner Slytherins and Gryffindors together to solve their first problem, and she had put Hermione with Blaise. Hermione had discovered that Zabini was smarter than the average Ravenclaw, and just as witty and clever as Ron or Harry.

Zabini seemed to notice her stare, because he cocked an eyebrow at her and asked, "See anything you like?"

Hermione could feel the flush rising in her cheeks, and she immediately looked down at her unfinished essay. She didn't respond, which brought a broad grin to Zabini's face.

He sure was attractive when he smiled, Hermione observed, and then banned that thought from her mind at once. She couldn't be thinking that a Slytherin was good-looking. But he was...

Blaise Zabini was your regular tall, dark, and handsome. He was just a few inches shorter than Ron, who had had his standard growth spurt of over the summer. Zabini had black hair that fell just past his ears, and he had a habit of pushing his fringe out of his eyes with a shake of his head. His eyes, a light blue, gleamed with intelligence and humour.

Blaise (since when did I start thinking about him with his first name? Hermione mused) exhaled loudly. He pulled at the collar of his shirt, grimacing. He unfastened the top three buttons, and Hermione's mouth went dry.

He winked at her. Hermione blushed again.

"You didn't answer my question before," said Blaise, tilting his head. "I'll repeat it, just in case you forgot while you were studying my handsome body." Hermione knew her cheeks were red enough to match Ron's hair. "See anything you like?"

Hermione swallowed.

Blaise half-stood up in his chair, splaying his hands against the table and leaning forward. His shirt fell open even more, and Hermione could see his nipples brushing against the fabric. Her mouth fell open slightly. He took that as an invitation and pressed his lips to hers. Hermione closed her eyes and returned the kiss.

Blaise pulled away, brushing his lips against her ear. "Want to come to Hogsmeade with me next week?"

Hermione hesitated. "But--Ron and Harry--"

"Will survive without you," Blaise cut in smoothly. "Please?"

"A-All right," Hermione stammered.

Blaise chuckled. "Good," he whispered, then turned to take her mouth in his again.

* * *

Blaise rubbed his hands together nervously as he paced back and forth in the Entrance Hall. Hermione had agreed to go to Hogsmeade with him after they had kissed in the library. He smiled at the memory, touching his fingers to his lips.

"B-Blaise?" stammered a hesitant voice. Blaise whirled around. Hermione. Standing on the steps. Looking beautiful. Nervous. Oh, he couldn't even form coherent sentences when he saw her...

"Hermione," said Blaise clumsily. His tongue suddenly weighed a ton, his mouth was dry. She stepped towards him, smiling nervously. "How was your day?" He immediately cursed himself. How was your day? Zabini, you might as well be talking about the weather!

"All right, I suppose," Hermione answered, shrugging. "Snape gave me an E on my essay."

"Consider yourself lucky," Blaise remarked, causing Hermione to laugh lightly. "Snape barely grades above an A, even to us Slytherins." He offered her his hand. "Shall we?"

Hermione hesitated, but took Blaise's hand in her own, looking uncertain.

As they walked to Hogsmeade, Blaise commented, "So, your bodyguards finally decided to let you out of their sight?"

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, looking confused.

"Potter and Weasley."

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, blushing. It was a rather fetching look, Blaise noted. "Well...Actually, I...You see, I...Well, Ron and Harry are a bit protective, you see--"

"You didn't tell them," Blaise stated. Hermione shook her head, carefully avoiding his eyes. He shrugged. "If it makes you feel any better, Theodore doesn't know either."

"Harry's not going to Hogsmeade today, and Ron thinks I'm shopping with Ginny," Hermione confessed. Feeling a bit daring, Blaise moved from merely holding her hand to intertwining their fingers together. He felt her sharp intake of breath, and grinned.

"Well, Theo's with Graham Pritchard and Malcolm Baddock today, helping them with Charms," Blaise told Hermione as they turned onto High Street. "So, we're both liars. Would you like to get some butterbeer? Or perhaps something stronger? We could go to the Hog's Head, if you like."

Hermione looked flustered, another look that was unexpectedly endearing. "I'm in the mood for butterbeer, actually."

Blaise considered pouting--he did like his firewhiskey, and Madam Rosmerta wouldn't sell it to him--but refrained from it. He tugged gently on Hermione's hand, heading in the direction of The Three Broomsticks.

"Two butterbeers, please," said Blaise promptly once they were inside the pub. Hermione was already sitting down, saving a table for them. The Three Broomsticks was tightly packed, and he supposed they were lucky enough to come inside without suffocating.

Madam Rosmerta reached under the bar and pulled out two bottles. "Hot date, Zabini?" she asked, raising her eyebrows as she handed the butterbeer to him.

"Perhaps," Blaise replied, taking the bottles, handing over some gold, and returning to Hermione. He handed her a bottle, sitting the seat opposite.

"Thanks," said Hermione quietly, grasping the bottle. She twisted off the cap, chucking it into the corner of the table. Blaise watched her take a gulp, then quickly look away as she lowered the bottle. "So, Zabini--"

"Blaise," he interrupted smoothly.

"Right, sorry--So, Blaise...Why did you invite me to Hogsmeade?" Hermione inquired, taking another swig of her butterbeer. "Just curious, after all."

Blaise shook his head to get the fringe out of his eyes, opening his butterbeer and tossing his cap away in the same manner Hermione had. After taking a swallow, he answered, "Well, I think you're a really nice girl that deserves to be taken out to have some fun. I heard about what happened in the Department of Mysteries--"

"How did you hear about that?" Hermione hissed, dropping her voice so low Blaise had to lean forward to hear it.

"I was at Theo's house this summer, his aunt was ranting about it," Blaise responded with a wave of his hand. "His dad's a Death Eater, I know. Theo isn't, and neither am I. I don't believe in that load of bollocks, the whole pureblood nonsense. If it wasn't for Muggles, I doubt the wizarding race would have survived. Besides, if you try to keep your blood pure, you might as well marry your cousin, and none of mine are as appealing as you are."

Hermione ducked her head so he wouldn't see the grin spread across her face, but he spotted it anyway. Returning the smile, he continued, "I know what happened, and it seemed like you needed to have some fun with some new people. You're smart, you're funny, and you know what you're doing. I like you a lot, Hermione."

"Well, thank you, Blaise," Hermione managed to say, still avoiding eye contact.

Blaise leaned back in his chair, tilting it on two legs. "Now it's your turn to shower me in praise, Hermione. Go on. I think I'll cope with a few minutes of endless compliments." Hermione threw her head back in laughter, the grin still on her face.

When she calmed down, Blaise dropped his chair back onto the ground, placed his elbows on the table, and kissed her on the mouth. She was startled, he could tell, but he eased her nerves by reaching across the table and grasped her hand, rubbing his thumb along her palm. Hermione opened her mouth slightly, as though requesting that he slide his tongue inside--which he did. Glad to be of service...

Hermione pulled away after a few minutes, her teeth caught delicately on his bottom lip. Blaise knew that they must be swollen and red after their snogging session--the same colour of his cheeks, he was sure, as many people in the pub were watching with amusement.

"We...We should do that again sometime," Hermione whispered thickly. Behind her, the door to the pub opened, and Ron Weasley stepped inside.

* * *

Blaise was smiling lazily after their kiss, his fringe hanging over his eyes carelessly. Hermione's heart skipped a beat. Sirius had shown her pictures of his school days when they arrived at Grimmauld place, and Blaise had the same hair, same eyes, and same grin--perhaps they were related?

Blaise's grin faltered, and he ducked his head down. Hermione heard him murmur, "Oh, shit..."

"What is it?" Hermione inquired. A hand grasped her shoulder, and she was on her feet with a wand pointed in front of her within seconds.

Ron blinked at her, then pushed the wand out of his face. Hermione returned it to her pocket, trying to calm her racing heart.

"Hermione, what--are--you--doing?" Ron asked through gritted teeth.

"Having a butterbeer?" she offered, sitting back down. Blaise still had his head down, fingers massaging his scalp.

"With a Slytherin?" Ron stated. His face had turned an unflattering shade of crimson. "What are you doing with this junior Death Eater, anyway?"

Blaise's fingers froze, and his entire body tensed. When he spoke, it was slow and deliberate.

"I'm not a Death Eater, Ron," he said calmly. Ron looked taken aback by the use of his first name, but quickly recovered with a loud snort. It brought more of the pub's attention to their table. Hermione groaned. It was just like Ron to make a scene...

"And I'd appreciate it if you let Hermione and me go on with our date in peace," Blaise continued, not giving Ron a chance to retort.

Ron scowled. "Sod off, Zabini. Let her have a drink in peace. Did Ginny run off with Dean again, Hermione?"

"You've got it all wrong," said Hermione exasperatedly. "Blaise isn't bothering me. Can you just...leave? I'll talk to you later--"

"Fine," Ron interrupted. He shook his head. "Can't believe you'd desert Harry and me for a Slytherin," he spat, then stomped out of the pub. He slammed the door behind him.

Hermione watched him leave, a lump rising in her throat. She felt a light touch to her elbow, and turned to see Blaise, biting his lower lip.

"Maybe we should call this off," he said quietly. "We aren't even properly dating and we're having problems."

"But Ron's just being an arse," Hermione protested. "Honestly, he's like this all the time, you just get used to it--"

Blaise chuckled. "I know. But I don't want to--I mean, I don't--If you prefer your friends to having a butterbeer with me, it's okay," he said finally.

"Well, you're one of my friends, aren't you?"

Blaise stared at her for a moment, then smiled slowly. He picked up her hand, kissing the back of it. Hermione blushed.

"Perhaps even more than that?" Blaise asked, waggling his eyebrows. Hermione choked.

"Are you--are you asking me--to be your girlfriend?" she sputtered.

Blaise chortled. "Why, yes, I am, Hermione. And how do you respond?"

"Well--er--Yes, I suppose." Mortifying. Absolutely mortifying. Could you stop the stuttering, Granger? Honestly, woman!

"Good." Blaise placed her hand back on the table. "Now, since you've finished your butterbeer, shall we continue on with our date in peace? Or would you like to run into other Gryffindors that will point and stare?"

"Do you want to go into Honeydukes?"

"Sounds all right to me." He stood up, offering her his hand. She took it, this time lacing their fingers together snugly. "Do you like Chocolate Frogs?"

* * *

They arrived Hogwarts long after they were supposed to return back, holding bags of their purchases at Honeydukes. Luckily, Filch wasn't in sight to give them detention.

"Do you want me to walk you back?" Blaise asked once they were inside the Entrance Hall. "To Gryffindor Tower, I mean."

Hermione hesitated. "Y-Yes. Yes, I think I'd like that."

Blaise grinned at her. "Excellent. Hang on, let me just leave these here..." He touched a painting of two women playing chess, and it swung open. After he placed his purchases inside, he shut the painting and turned back to Hermione, who was gaping. "Yes, it's a little thing I found when I was hiding from Snape one night. Dead useful."

They walked up to Gryffindor Tower in silence, as they didn't want to awake any sleeping ghosts or bring Filch and various Professors onto their tail. The Fat Lady looked down at Hermione disapprovingly for being out late, but she winked when she saw Blaise.

"I had fun today, Blaise," said Hermione quietly.

"I'm glad you did. I did, too."

Hermione hesitated, but stood on her tiptoes and kissed him softly on the lips. The Fat Lady tutted, and she pulled away at the sound. Blaise chuckled, but held her close to his chest. "I'll see you tomorrow?" she offered.

"Of course," Blaise murmured, his voice husky. He squeezed her hands gently, his breath warm on her ear. He moved away slowly, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Bye."

"Bye," said Hermione shyly, and watched him walk down the corridor until he was out of sight. She turned to the Fat Lady, and declared, "Fortes fortuna adiuvat."

"He's a charming one," the Fat Lady commented, but didn't open. "What house is he in?"

"Slytherin."

The Fat Lady's eyebrows rose up to the top of her forehead. "Oh! I see...Well, sleep well, dearie."

"Thanks."

Hermione climbed through the portrait hole to find Ron waiting in his favourite armchair by the fire. He looked up when she came inside, an expression of disgust on his face.

"Well," Ron began, standing up, "where have you been?"

"What's with the interrogation?" Hermione snapped. She pulled off her cloak, folding it up into a small square.

"You were with him, weren't you?" Ron demanded. He had his arms crossed over his chest angrily, and he was glaring. "With Zabini. A Slytherin."

"Yes, I was!" Hermione shouted, throwing her cloak down on the floor furiously. She stomped over to Ron and began jabbing her index finger into his chest. "I was with Blaise, and we spent a very lovely afternoon together! I don't know why you find such a problem with this! You're being a thick, ridiculous, unintelligent, little prat! Why don't you just pull your head out of your arse and realise that I don't need your approval for everything!"

Ron's jaw had dropped, and he was mouthing wordlessly. After a moment, he closed his mouth and pushed her finger off his chest.

"Thanks for abandoning us, Hermione. Right when Harry needs us the most, you're cuddling up with a Slytherin. What a fantastic friend you are."

And with that, Ron trudged off without another word. Hermione stared at him until he was out of sight, then burst into tears.

* * *

"Blaise!" called a sing-song voice as he stepped into the Slytherin dormitories. Millicent and Theodore were lounging in sofas by the fire, grinning broadly at the sight of their friend. The common room was empty except for them.

"Somebody came back late," said Theodore teasingly. Blaise plopped into the chair beside him, sighing. "Who was it?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Who was it?" Millicent pressed on, punching him in the arm playfully. Blaise mimed injury, wincing and holding his arm as though it burned. "Go on! Who were you with?"

"Erm...Well..."

"Just tell us already!" Theo exclaimed, his scrawny body quivering with anticipation.

"Hermione Granger."

Their smiles faltered. Millicent coughed, while Theo cocked his head, as though he hadn't heard right.

"Granger? The bushy-haired one in Gryffindor? The one that's friends with Potter and Weasley?"

Blaise nodded. Theo stared at him for a moment, then shrugged.

"Ah, you get what you get, I suppose. Did you at least--"

"Theo!" Millicent cried out. She threw Blaise a nasty look before saying, "He went on a date with a Gryffindor. Probably snogged the life out of her, too! Next thing you know, they'll be shagging like rabbits! A Gryffindor, Theo!"

Theo nodded. "I know. It's different, that's why I like it. Besides, weren't you partnered with Terry Boot on some project in Herbology? You said he was a nice kid."

"Yes, but he was a Ravenclaw," Millicent pointed out. "Not a Gryffindor, sworn enemy of Salazar Slytherin."

"They were friends, you know," Blaise put in. "Have you ever read Hogwarts, a History?"

Millicent threw her hands up in frustration. "He's even sounding like her now, Theo! Argh! I can't take this!"

She left the common room angrily, shutting the door to the girl's dormitories with a bang.

"She'll come around," said Theo, watching Blaise's face carefully. "I'll talk to her tomorrow. But anyway, what did you do with Granger?"

"Well, we went to the Three Broomsticks first, and that was a bit of a mistake..."

* * *

Hermione entered the Great Hall the next morning without Ron and Harry. Usually, they would wait in the common room for her, but they hadn't been there when she came down the stairs. Pavarti and Lavender had sensed that something was wrong, but they had just exchanged knowing looks and left to find Seamus.

"Hey," Ginny greeted Hermione when she sat down beside the fifth-year. "How're you this morning?"

"Awful," Hermione muttered, grabbing a pitcher of pumpkin juice and filling up her goblet. "Pass me the toast, will you?"

Ginny handed her the plate, saying, "What happened? Did something bad happen in Hogsmeade? I notice you're sitting with me, rather than Ron and Harry."

"Yes, something happened in Hogsmeade," Hermione answered, slathering her toast with strawberry jam. "You see...I went to the village with someone."

Ginny winked, picking up a piece of bacon. "And who was this someone?"

"Blaise Zabini." The bacon fell out of Ginny's hand, and her jaw dropped. Hermione sighed. "I know. That's what Ron did when he saw us in the Three Broomsticks. And then he grilled me about my whereabouts when I came back to the common room late."

"Blaise Zabini?" Ginny repeated. She scooped up the bacon again, biting a chunk out of it. "The Blaise Zabini? That Slytherin that's friends with Nott and Bulstrode?"

"Yes," Hermione said tersely.

Ginny thumped her on the back. "Well, congratulations, Hermione! He's absolutely stunning, no questions asked! And smart, too. He was Colin's tutor in Transfiguration when McGonagall noticed that Colin was having troubles. Brilliant guy. Did you snog at all?"

"Ginny!" Hermione chastised, making the younger girl grin. "Honestly, is that all that's on your mind?"

"I've recently turned fifteen, Hermione. That's the only thing on my mind."

"Well, yes." Hermione chewed a piece of toast, then swallowed. "Yes, we did."

"How much?"

"Quite a bit, actually."

"Ooh!" Ginny cooed, making kissing noises. "Are you...you know..."

"Well, he did ask me to be his girlfriend," Hermione told her, unable to hide the grin on her face. Ginny cheered loudly, making the various Gryffindors beside them turn to stare. "Ginny! Be quiet!"

"Sorry!" Ginny dropped her voice. "Well, congratulations again, Hermione. Guess Ron's just angry because he didn't think of it first. He always was a slow one."

Hermione gave her a half-smile. "I suppose so."

"Does Ron know that you're officially dating?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know." She sighed again. "Look, I've got Potions first this morning, and Ron isn't in that class. I'll talk to Harry."

"You'll talk to Potter instead of me?" said a soft voice in her ear. Hermione jumped, fingers on the handle of her wand. She had one leg over the opposite side of the bench when the voice laughed, sending shivers through her body to the tips of her fingers. "Hermione, sweetheart, it's me."

"Blaise!"

"That is my name." Blaise straddled the empty seat behind her. The Hall had gone nearly silent the moment he had approached the Gryffindor table. Hermione was no Seer, but she could guess what was going on in her classmate's minds.

Isn't he a Slytherin?

And he's sitting at the Gryffindor table!

Next to Granger...

And they're both smiling!

Something must be wrong...

"Oh, go back to your breakfasts!" Ginny declared, waving her hands about in the air. "They're just talking! And if they do anything other than that--well, just get used to it!"

The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws shrugged and went back to their food. The Slytherins shot nasty looks at Blaise, who ignored them and scooted closer to Hermione. The Gryffindors looked just about ready to commit mutiny. Ron, in particular, was trying to stand up and walk over, but Harry grabbed his shirt sleeve and yanked him down.

"Ron's going to kill me..." Hermione whimpered. She ducked her head down, and placed it conveniently on Blaise's chest. He slipped his arms around her waist, chuckling.

"You think Weasley's going to kill you, you just wait until Potions," Blaise whispered. Hermione groaned. "Snape will torture us with glee. He's pure Slytherin, I'm telling you."

"I want to curl up in the ball and sleep in the corner," Hermione mumbled into his robes.

"Maybe later." Blaise's hand found its way to her chin and lifted it up. He kissed her tenderly, his fingers slowly stroking her lower back. Hermione moved her arms to wrap around his neck, returning the kiss eagerly. The gasps in the Great Hall echoed. Ginny applauded.

"Get ready for the hate mail," Blaise murmured in her ear, biting down gently on her collarbone. "I have a feeling that this day is going to last forever..."

"Then let's leave before it gets worse."

They stood up. Blaise took her bag, deaf to her protests that she could carry it herself. He simply swung it over his shoulder with his own bag, and offered her his hand. Hermione took it, and they left the noiseless Hall.

* * *

Once Blaise and Hermione were out of sight and the chatter in the Hall began again, Dumbledore tipped his hat to the closed door and murmured, "Twenty points to Gryffindor and Slytherin."