The Cat-Burglar

~*~

THE CAT-BURGLAR

~*~

From where he was stood, back against the wall amongst the shadows, Blaise was reasonably confident that unless someone was to pass within inches of him they would never notice he was there. Like any good member of Slytherin he had become accomplished long ago at being able to pass unnoticed, to hide in plain view, so standing in a dark corner for a few minutes while the corridor before him cleared was hardly any feat at all for him. As the students before him finally moved on Blaise narrowed his eyes, peering at the portrait that came into view with a speculative gleam.

In one hand he held clutched tightly a folded piece of paper that he had acquired the day before. It had been unsurprisingly easy to slip his hand into Neville Longbottom's carefully organised school bag earlier in the day in order to pluck the paper from the pocket. A little spying had revealed to Blaise where in the bag Longbottom kept his list of passwords to the Gryffindor common room - the list he was surely not meant to have - and the opportunity to steal it had presented itself readily when the runty little boy had left his table in the library to disappear among the stacks.

Blaise opened the paper and peered at it. The first words not to have been crossed were 'House Cup' - how terribly predictable. It was rather disappointing in fact. He would have expected more from Granger, who, as Head Girl, would almost certainly have thought up the passwords. Perhaps she had taken suggestions from her more moronic friends to make them feel more important.

A wry smile drifted across the handsome Slytherins' features. He could never imagine their infamous Head Boy doing a similar thing. Draco was more likely to resign his position and run off with a Weasley than he was to take suggestions from anyone about anything.

Carefully he looked down to both ends of the corridor, checking once more with both his eyes and his ears to make sure no one was coming. Confident that there was no one around to stumble upon him Blaise stepped from his hiding place and approached the portrait guarding the entrance to the room.

The portrait watched him warily, looking him up and down. "And just what do you want young man?" she asked.

"I want to come in," Blaise told her and watched as a smug smile filtered onto the portly woman's fat features.

"Well I'm afraid you can't - not without the password."

"It's a good job I have it then isn't it?" the young man smirked.

A glimmer of doubt fled over the portrait's features. Folding her arms over her rather voluptuous chest she prompted, "Go on then."

Blaise's smirk widened. "House Cup."

"Ha! That's the wrong one. Now run along before someone catches you."

Raising the list rather dramatically Blaise looked down to the next password written there, noticing out of the corner of his eyes that the portrait was staring at the paper wide-eyed.

"What's that?" she asked.

"A piece of paper," Blaise said in reply. "Now... How about 'The Canons'? Who the hell thought these up?"

"How did you know that?!" the portrait gasped. "No, no. Don't answer that. It doesn't matter anyway. I'm not letting you in."

Cocking his head to one side sceptically, Blaise said, "You have to."

"No-"

"You have to," he repeated. "I have the correct password so you have to let me it. It's the rules."

Her mouth dropped open as if she wanted to object but didn't know how. Finally she gave a small sigh and said, "Oh very well. I'm going to loose my job this - I can just tell I am. In you go then and ... and try not to cause too much mischief. Oh god what am I saying. I-"

Blaise did not hear the rest of what was said. He was already stepping through the doorway and into the Gryffindor common room for the first time in his life.

It was just as he would have expected - warm, light, airy and absurdly cheery in its appearance. While it possessed a certain level of opulence there was nothing like the subtle sophistication that the Slytherin common room was rich in. After peering around it for a few second Blaise decided he did not like it - everything was so typically Gryffindor. The only good point was the large windows but Blaise could have quite happily lived without if he had to - something which had indeed been the case for the past six - nearly seven - years of his life.

As Blaise had expected the large room was empty giving him a glorious sense of freedom. He had known that the chances of there being anyone present in the room considering the fact that in the somewhat blustery weather there was a rather competitive game of Quidditch involving Gryffindor and Ravenclaw going on were minimal but it was still a relief to realise he had been correct all the same. Taking another step into the room he paused once again and listened for a second.

There was a noise... something breaking the quiet in the room through only gently. Blaise froze, trying to discern where the sound was coming from. It was strange, seeming to come from low in the room. It was a sort of purr which, though he had failed to place it initially, Blaise now managed to realise belonged to a cat. He jumped sharply as something brushed against his leg, looking down to find his suspicions confirmed.

A large ginger cat was rubbing around his legs affectionately, peering at him with large expressive eyes. Blaise raised a surprised eyebrow as he recognised Granger's cat then smiled once again as the animal's purring reverberated though his leg. More than once Blaise had heard Potter's head crony, the red haired Weasel describe the animal as demonic - which possibly explained why it liked him so much. Dipping down the tall Slytherin briefly ran his fingers through the cat's long coat while muttering, "Now, I wonder where we would find your mistress's room."

If he had not believed that it was impossible then Blaise would have sworn that the cat understood him. A looked seemed to wash over its squashed features and then it turned sharply, sliding once more against his legs, curling its tail around his calf before walking slowly off in a seemingly purposeful manner. For a second Blaise simply stood still, watching the creature's body sway as it walked, then he looked up to see where it was apparently heading.

There was a doorway with thick heavy curtains half drawn across it as if someone had not been bothered to do the job properly. They waved slightly as the cat's large body brushed against them then fell back into place behind it. Blaise took a deep breath and pursed his lips.

Well it wasn't as if he had any better ideas...

As silently as a Slytherin Blaise paced quickly across the floor in the direction the cat had gone, vaguely aware that he might be acting foolishly. However the moment that he pushed past the heavy curtains he discovered that in one way he had at least been right - he had found what appeared to be the route to the dormitories. Whether they proved to be right dormitories was another matter entirely of course but it was still an improvement on his position of a few seconds before. At least he vaguely knew now where he should be heading.

The cat proved to be an excellent guide. Its swaying body led Blaise unhurriedly up the dark winding staircase until finally it halted before a large dark wooden door and scratched at it. The dark haired Slytherin boy looked up at the exceedingly well polished brass nameplate on the door and smiled.

Hermione Granger, Head Girl.

"Thank you Puss," Blaise drawled and reached for the door handle.

Phase one of his plan was complete.

~*~*~*~

It was as Blaise had found himself peering down at a large 'C' printed in bold letters at the top of his Arithmancy homework that a plan had begun to form at the back his mind. The mark was the highest he had received for the subject out the last five scrolls he had completed yet it was still nowhere near what he had expected and perhaps, more importantly, what his mother had expected. His letter home this week was not going to be a pleasure to write.

With a sigh the handsome seventeen year old slumped on the hard backed chair that was position behind his desk, bringing a long fingered hand up to rub at his brow as he once again gave silent praise that all the other seventh year boys were out of the room. At least there was no one near to witness his failure; he honestly was not sure how he would have responded to having one or more of them smirking knowingly at him as he once again underperformed in the subject when he was so used to excelling.

Blaise scowled at the thought, growing mildly angry. It wasn't as if any of them were capable of taking Arithmancy in the first place. For them a 'C' would have been a dream mark so they really should not have even thought of mocking him. And yet, as they were Slytherins, he really could not expect any less from them.

Of course the latest grade presented him with a problem - a rather sizeable one at that. If things continued the way they were going he was going to be dangerously close to dropping out of the top percentage of the class and, then if the decline in his marks did not stop there was even a chance that he might fail entirely. The thought was too terrible to even contemplate. Zabini's simply did not fail at anything. They were achievers, surpassing all around them as they rode the wave of social successes. To fail at something so simply as a school subject would be the first downwards step in both his parents' eyes and his mother's particularly. His mother who from the day she had been born had been simply the very best in everything - without exception.

He had to do something before the situation became too disastrous. There simply wasn't another choice.

The plan had come about as a consequence, spurred on by his constantly growing anxiety at the thought of failing. All he really needed was one good mark to get him back on track after all. It didn't even need to be a perfect mark, just one good enough that his average for the year would be pushed upwards once again to give him some breathing room to find his feet.

Blaise's mind had scanned over the possibilities at an almost stunning pace. There was no way that he could possibly ask one of the other Slytherins for help. Besides himself only Pansy Parkinson was taking Arithmancy anyway and there was no chance that the delicate queen of their house would even consider helping someone else. Blaise doubted that even if he turned his charm on full would her resolve flicker for a moment so stubborn was the tiny dark haired girl.

Asking one of the many Ravenclaw students in his class was also out of the realm of possibility. Their superior attitudes where schooling was concerned was irritating to say the least and he could already imagine the manner in which they would snigger behind his back while denying the fact to his face. At least where his fellow Slytherin were concerned then he could trust them to be open with him about there amusement over his predicament.

He couldn't even intimidate some Hufflepuff into helping him as not one of them had proved clever enough to even outperform him recently. Blaise readily admitted to himself that he would never have trusted one of the spineless creatures to have managed to successfully show him correctly anyway.

It left him with one option - the Gryffindors. And thinking that one of them would help him, Blaise thought, was a daydream situation that would never, ever, come true. He was more likely to sprout wings and fly away than he was to approach one of them anyway.

There were however other ways, he realised.

The plan in his mind evolved rapidly. One way or another he would manage to get his hands on the one piece of work he would trust to be perfect in everyway. Then he would copy it and creatively alter a few answers just to make sure that no one would ever suspect that he had cheated.

And if there was one piece of work that was bound to be perfect then it was that of Hermione Granger.

~*~*~*~

As he opened the door Granger's cat squeezed inside through the small opening made. Blaise paused, listening while unconsciously controlling his breathing to see whether there was any indication that there was anyone inside. When he was certain no sound had been made he very cautiously poked his head around the door and made a quick examination of the space inside.

Empty. Blissfully, wonderfully, empty.

A satisfied smile crept over Blaise's face at the sight. Things were going right to plan. Now all he had to do was enter the room and hunt around until he managed to find Granger's next piece of work for Arithmancy which she would certainly already have completed being the industrious student that she was. In the various pockets of his school robe were all the things he would need in order to copy the homework; parchment, a self-refilling quill - the very latest revolutionary design that had been a present from his mother - and most importantly his wand with which he would perform the spell that would enable the work to be copied magically from one piece of paper to the next.

Just as he had expected it to be Granger's room was the very epitome of tidiness. Everything appeared to have its place, was labelled and tidied away the moment to was finished with. A book shelf showed that the witch even went so far as to alphabetize her extensive book collection among which stood strange, non-moving muggle-pictures that were undoubtedly of her family. The typical four-poster bed was made, covered by the same sort of heavy blankets and covers that were on his own bed except in Gryffindor red instead of Slytherin green, and plush fat pillows leaned against the headboard. At one end the cat had settled himself next to what appeared to be a folded set of pale pink pyjamas and was busily studying Blaise placidly.

Against one wall stood a wardrobe that was quite frankly enormous, dominating the room with it presence. If the doors had been open then the light from the one small arched window would certainly have been blocked out. The only other substantial piece of furniture in the room besides a battered looking old comfy chair covered in worn floral material was the desk and it was to this that Blaise crossed towards after carefully closing the door behind him.

As with everything else in the room, the desk was organised to the point where someone might have wondered whether the witch who lived in the room wasn't somewhat obsessive about it. Things were sorted and classed, stacked and clipped so that Blaise had no trouble whatsoever tracking down the particular piece of work he was looking for - two scrolls worth of it in neat petite script. He drew it out and laid it flat upon the desk with a triumphant smile painted upon his lip then reached into his pockets and pulled out all the things he had brought with him.

Copying the scroll was a simple enough job though it took longer than he had expected it to. Granger had undoubtedly written more than was necessary but sorting through was needed and what was not would have taken more time than simply transferring everything. Later, when he had safely made it back to his own room, then he would be able to read through it all and pick out what pieces he did or did not want to include. For the moment however speed was the key to success - the key to his completing his plan and getting out of the Gryffindor quarters before anyone even realised he had been there at all.

Blaise tensed abruptly, his shoulders hunching as he drew in a sharp breath. A sound and this time it had not come from the cat. It had not even come from the same room but rather from somewhere else in the building. For a second he wondered whether he had actually imagined the noise instead of it actually happening and then it broke sharply through the total silence that had been concentrated in the tower.

Someone was coming. Someone was climbing the stairs and since they did not seem to have stopped Blaise was willing to bed his sizeable annual allowance that they were on there way to the room where he was. The room he was currently trapped in.

A momentary flutter of panic flooded through Blaise.

He could not be caught. The shame would be almost unbearable. Draco would never let him forgot that he had been forced to try and cheat off a mudblood. It would be worse than admitting that he was failing Arithmancy. It would be worse than having to listen to his mother lecture him on how he had disappointed her while his father stood over the sharply beautiful woman's shoulder with a disapproving look stuck permanently on his already stern features. Of course it was doubtful that his father would ever look anything but disappointed but there was no reason to make the situation worse than it already was.

Except that he was making it worse. He was still stood almost startling still, statue-like even, staring at the door to the room with something akin to horror running through him and any moment soon he just knew that the door was going to open and he was going to be caught.

Blaise jumped. Moving swiftly the wizard gathered together his belongings along with his copy of the homework and stuffed them hastily into his pockets. His heart was pounding madly, threatening to burst right out of his chest as he looked around the room once more. There really were only one or two places to hide. The first being under the bed which would probably mean getting his clothes covered in dust and the second being in the wardrobe which was infinity riskier.

He opted for the wardrobe. It might have held more chance of getting caught but at least he knew that it would be easier to run for it if someone did stumble upon him. Flinging the doors open Blaise leapt inside and stumbled immediately as his foot slid on something on the bottom of the wardrobe. From the crowded, chaotic manner in which the things seemed to be arranged it appeared that he had discovered what Granger did with all her clutter.

His hand reached out and found purchase on a pile of books and papers that had been stack in one corner. Using them to hold himself steady Blaise turned around carefully, very nearly falling as he tried to avoid being strangled by some piece of clothing hanging from the rail running from one side to the other in the wardrobe. After regaining his balance the young man reached forwards and pawed at the wardrobe doors, disappointed to discover that there was no way that he would be able to close them completely from the inside. Instead he had to settle for pulling them together as much as he could manage - the resulting gap in between them making the pressure in his muscles tighten almost painfully.

Forcing his breath to become steady once more Blaise watched through the gap with his heart firmly in his throat. From where he was situated he could not actually see the door but he could hear it. The characteristic 'click' which had rung out when he had first depressed the door handle once again rang out and there was a subtle shift in the room to suggest that it had been opened. A second later and the door closed once again and a second after that a familiar figure appeared briefly before the gap before disappearing again.

Granger.

~*~*~*~

There was not the tiniest hint of regret in his mind that it was Granger who was to become the victim of his felonious plan. In truth there were very few people that Blaise would have regretted stealing from - the small number containing predominantly those from his own house who would hex him into the last century if they ever realised what he had done and since Granger was most certainly not in that number then it didn't matter in the least to him that there was every chance that she would come off badly because of his crime. It wasn't even as if he really saw a problem with his copying her work anyway. After all, as long as she had put the work in then she would earn the exact same mark as she would have done even if he had not managed to look at it before she handed it in to Professor Vector.

And, ultimately, Blaise thought that on one level or another, Granger owed him anyway.

He had never taunted her the way that his housemates had. He had never spat 'mudblood' at her as they passed in the hallway nor had he made fun of her appearance like Draco or Pansy had.

It wasn't as if he hadn't been tempted. It seemed to him that she was always there. She'd bump into him in the library or between classes, blushing and getting in his way - practically begging for him to bark some insult at her before she could get away. Even when she was not there to physically get in this way she still managed to do it. Sometimes it seemed to Blaise that whenever there was a book he needed from the library then Granger had already checked it out or that when he needed to speak to a teacher then she was there already, monopolising their time and making it impossible for him to ask whatever it was that he needed to before he was due at his next class. It was infuriating - completely and utterly infuriating.

Blaise was however, the Quiet Slytherin. He was the one who sat in the corner and said nothing while studying those around him, gathering information just as his mother had taught him for future use when they were no longer at Hogwarts but in the real world where such things might actually matter even more.

"Information is a bargaining chip," his mother had told him once. "And you have to know how to use it."

His mother always was the practical one. The Zabinis might have been an old family but without his mother and her... particular way of earning money then they would have been nothing.

As a consequence of her advice though, trusting it implicitly, Blaise had made every effort to just sit back and watch the world go by - watching and making notes that was. He was rather successful at it as well. Time and time again his observations had enabled him to get out of scrapes where other students would surely have floundered and probably drown. The problem was however that after a while his instinct had become to sit back and survey, to not say anything until he knew it would be useful to do so.

And so he had avoided snapping at Granger. The last thing he had needed was for her two bodyguards to turn up on his doorstep and draw attention to him just because he had hurt the little witch's feeling and made her cry. Not only would it have caused him to have problems with his fellow students but quite possibly with the teaching staff as well.

It would have caused a thousand problems he simply did not need and that was the reason - the only reason - that he had not said anything to the irritating little girl.

Of course there was a part of him that realised that Granger was more than just a little girl. He was well aware that she had grown up rather more rapidly than even the other girls in their year simply because of all the dangers that she had rather stupidly exposed herself to. Hermione Granger had long ago because a young woman and though Blaise doubted she was actually aware of the fact she certainly knew how to use it. The simple bossiness that she had been notorious for in her early years at Hogwarts had matured into pure authority so that there were now very few people who would openly question her word and only a few more that did it privately. Blaise harboured a grudging respect for the Head Girl because of it though he would sooner have cursed himself than have actually admitted it out loud.

He even had problems admitting it to himself silently. Doing so aloud would have probably made him choke.

Once or twice he attempted to tell himself that admiring an enemy was not too serious a crime. It would help you appreciate their skills, their knowledge and their strength after all and that might one day help you defeat them. But that, he told himself firmly after much deliberation, was for the future. For the time being he had to convince himself that Granger was nothing to worry about.

~*~*~*~

She had come to a halt directly in his eye-line, her profile visible to him through the crack in the doors and highlighted by the pale winter sunlight shinning through the window before her. The witch's cheeks were still rosy from the cold outside even though by Blaise's count she had been in the room for nearly fifteen minutes, a time period during which she had mostly remained out of sight though the sound of her pottering around the room had reached his ears time and time again. Even her small nose was still slightly reddened at the tip and as he watched, Granger brought her hands up and rubbed them together furiously, trying to stimulate some warmth and feeling in them.

There was something settling about watching her. It was almost reassuring to know that he could fall back into his usual much-loved past time even in a position such as the one that he found himself in at that moment. True he was trapped in a wardrobe with no immediate idea of how he was going to escape but at least he had something to occupy himself with and he would use the time wisely and make some observations about the Head Girl while she was still completely unaware of his presence.

In fact Blaise discovered rather rapidly that just watching Granger in her natural habitat so to speak was somewhat fascinating all in itself. Away from the eyes of others, away from people asking her advice or expecting her to perform some sort of task the girl looked surprisingly relaxed. Her face was a picture of calm; not even a flicker of emotion on it and Blaise could not help but wonder whether the expression that he was seeing now was one which she commonly showed to her friends. But then again since her friends were Weasley and Potter then there was every chance that even when she was just in their company that there would be a slightly harassed look. Those two simply did not know how to keep out of trouble and they generally pulled her into it after them.

For the longest time she remained standing in the gap, staring first dead ahead of her and then redirecting her gaze downwards so that her warm brown eyes were focused on the circular rug that. Blaise was willing to bet that from her stance that she was looking at nothing at all really but rather thinking hard on something. Occasionally, very briefly, he would notice her eyebrow twitch slightly as if she had come to some conclusion but then the moment would be gone. Just as he was beginning to wonder whether she was ever going to move however Granger let out a long, somewhat explosive sigh that seemed to propel her into action.

She lifted her hands up once again though this time instead of bringing them together the brunette gripped the front of her school robes and set about shrugging them from her shoulders. The folds of black material fell to the ground heavily, sounding against the rug and leaving Granger stood in the muggle clothing that she always seemed to wear at weekends. Today the combination was made up of a heavy knitted deep red jumper that had no doubt been chosen to guard against the cold weather outside and pale blue jeans that clung to Granger's curves - a fact that was apparent to Blaise even from the side view of her body that he was given.

As he watched she bent slightly at the waist in order to loosen the laces on the sturdy boots that were dashed in slowly drying mud that had probably been collected on the walk back from the Quidditch pitch. For two days previously snow had been falling and yet not settling to cover the grounds of Hogwarts. The resulting melt had thoroughly soaked the ground through meaning that Filch had been plenty of reasons to complain as he fought a never ending battle to keep the castle clean. Granger toed off the boots and kicked them across the room. The landed with a decisive thud but the young woman paid no attention to them. She was too busy lifting the bottom of the large jumper she was wearing to get at the belt encircling her waist, unfastening it and pulling it out of the loops on the waistband of her jeans. The belt too was thrown away rather haphazardly and then the girl once again took hold of the bottom of the jumper and pulled it upwards, over her head. She discarded it by throwing it onto the pile of black material on the floor leaving her stood in a dark grey t-shirt that made Blaise's eyes wander.

He was suddenly able to appreciate his angle rather more than he had done so before. Granger's figure was outlined perfectly from the rounded curve of her rump to the plump swell of her breasts. He admitted silently to himself that he had never taken the time to truly appreciate the Gryffindor girl's figure - it was rather finer than he had expected if his current view was any indication of what was actually beneath the rest of her clothing.

Unaware that she was being watched the brunette muggle-born turned her back on the wardrobe and took a step away from it towards her desk. Then, to Blaise's absolute astonishment, she lifted her hands once more and brought them to her front. Crossing them over her middle she top hold of the bottom of the grey t-shirt and swiftly drew it over her head, revealing to the Slytherin watching from the wardrobe the smooth expanse of flesh that was her back.

Blaise's mouth dropped open as he drew in a straggled little breath. For a second he could have sworn that she must have heard him before realising that Granger had given no indication that she thought anything was amiss. Indeed she had proceeded to reach for the buttons on her jeans, fingers moving deftly over them before she hooked the digits into the waistband and wriggled out of them in a motion that was very nearly hypnotic to the boy standing in the wardrobe. The jeans slumped in rude piles around her ankles and Granger was forced to bend forwards while resting one hand on the back of the chair in order to unhook the unyielding material from one foot and then the other - all of which provided Blaise with a perfect view of her lace covered ass.

He bit his lip to force back am appreciative groan that had been threatening. The pale pink lace shorts - far more interesting than Blaise would have expected from the Granger - did very little to hide the two shapely globes of the Head Girl's bottom or the way that her hips dipped in to a slim waist before widening again towards her shoulders. The good figure he had been expecting was not that at all - instead it was something which sent heat flooding through his body and left him leaning forwards ever so slightly in the wardrobe in order to get a better look. He didn't particularly understand what it was about the Head Girl's actions that was so seductive - he had, after all, seen plenty of girls in nothing but their underwear - but he was willing to bet that it probably had something to do with the fact that not only was he probably the first Slytherin to see her in such a state but also because she had yet to realise he was there.

His teeth were still digging into his lower lip, reddening it and causing a pout to form. It was maddening to be forced to stand so still. As exciting as it might be to watch the brunette undress in secrecy there was a rather influential part of his body that was prompting him reach out and touch.

Blaise squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force himself to regain control of his body. This was Granger he was looking at - he'd be a laughing stock in Slytherin if anyone ever found out what he'd been thinking. Draco would probably have him thrown out of the house.

Drawing in a ragged breath he hoped was not heard outside the dark little world of the wardrobe Blaise let his eyes flutter open once again - and very nearly jumped through the back of the wardrobe and the wall as he found himself face to face with Granger through the gap in the doors.

She couldn't have seen him to begin with. The inside of the wardrobe was far too large and thick with shadows for anything inside to be noticed before the doors were actually opened. That situation did not remained that way for long however. As he stood with his back flat against the back of the wardrobe, his heart once again thudding painfully in his chest, Blaise became aware of the terrible fact that the Head Girl had reached down and was pulling the handles so that the twin doors opened.

Light flooded into his world, highlighting the world of colour that was the girl's clothing. Blaise however was not thinking about that in the least. His eyes had immediately dipped from Granger's face downwards, landing solidly on her chest and the two ripe breasts encased in lace that he had been so fascinated with earlier. Nervously Blaise's tongue darted out over his lips as he envisioned himself touching her once again and he only vaguely heard the startled gasp that escaped the Head Girl.

His eyes flickered upwards, taking in her horrified features. An unexpected silence filled the space between them, one which Blaise found he could not stand it any longer.

"Hello," he said as calmly as he could manage, watching her face carefully.

The bundle of clothes that Granger had been carrying fell from her arms, landing on the floor at her feet as she opened her mouth widely in order to scream. Not even thinking Blaise leapt from wardrobe and covered her mouth with his large hand before anything but a short sharp cry to escape her.

Wide brown eyes looked at him over the top of his hand as Blaise moved to grip her arm as well. She twisted, attempting to break away and very nearly managing to do so. They spun backwards in a peculiar ungainly dance until to both their surprise it was stopped sharply. The backs of Granger's legs had collided with the high mattress of her bed, propelling the Head Girl backwards and thus bringing Blaise with her as he refused to let go of her.

They landed heavily, the air exploding out of Granger's body as he came down on top of her. The impact left them bouncing against each other for a few seconds and Blaise forced his eyes closed as he tried to concentrate on something other than the fact that he could now easily feel the delicious warmth and pressure of the girl's breasts on his own chest as they moved against each other. Even so the tightness in his lower body increased sharply and on opening his eyes he found himself looking directly at her frightened expression as she went still for the first time.

Blaise sucked in a sharp breath, trying to steady his nerves. "Granger... how wonderful it is to see you."

Amazingly the girl's eyes did the impossible and widened further leaving Blaise to look back over his words and regret his choice.

"Do try not to panic Granger - this really isn't what it looks like."

A pause followed, during which Blaise saw the expression in her eyes turn into something indefinable though thoroughly different from the calm he had wanted. She began to struggle, mumbling madly in long loud bursts against the palm of his hand and possibly even trying to nip at the tender flesh there with her teeth - though the last might have been accidental. Abruptly the hand that he had managed not to trap snapped up from her side and whipped up to smack him on the back of the head. Rather painfully. His ears ringing, Blaise found himself being pushed sideways during his momentary distraction, his back contacting with the bedspread before he was even truly aware of what was happening. For only the briefest of seconds the young wizard found himself staring up at the canopy of the bed and then there was a face hovering over his and a weight on his chest.

"What are you doing?!" Blaise exclaimed in shock as the girl perched distractingly on him wriggled and began to hunt through the pockets of his robes. He couldn't stop himself from staring first at the look of intense concentration on her features and then at the way that her breasts moved engrossingly inside the delicate looking bra and the manner in which her long curls played against her skin.

"Aha!" she cried out, turning back to face him while pulling something from his pocket. The sound of his voice had drawn Blaise's attention back to the girl's face and now he saw a triumphant gleam in her eyes and an attractive flush spreading over her cheeks. He found himself wanting to reach up and take hold of her face. Just for a second. Just to see what it was like to do so.

The urge was rapidly repressed. Instead Blaise looked from Granger to the thing that she had pulled from his face and was now pointing at him aggressively. An amused smile slowly slipped across his lips. "And just what do you imagine you're going to do with that?" he asked nodded his head towards the quill she was yielding.

Granger looked down, a look of confusion washing over her features suddenly as she realised that what she had evidently thought was a wand was not one. Lips parted ever so slightly she looked from it to him and then back again, seeming to notice for the first time that he was not struggling even a little. The look of confusion transformed into a frown.

"This is a quill," she observed.

"I do believe you're correct. I always knew you were a clever one."

"But what are you doing with a quill?"

Blaise raised his eyebrows at her. "Well I am a student so..." He left it hanging, hoping to draw yet more out of her. After all, while she was talking she wasn't screaming and that could only be a good thing.

Especially since, for the moment at least, she seemed to have forgotten her unclothed state.

"Yes but..." she began and then stopped. Her thoughtful brown eyes narrowed and then suddenly, shockingly, she was running her hands over his body again in a probing manner which would at any other time have been rather pleasant. Growing irritated, Blaise once again found himself fighting his physical reaction to her proximity as he tried in vain to figure out what it was she was doing.

A familiar sound filled his ears - that of parchment tearing and Blaise's eyes widened dramatically. Oh no...

"This is my work!" Granger exclaimed angrily. She turned blazing eyes on him and the handsome boy found himself caught in them. If it wouldn't have been a rather un-Slytherin thing to do in front of her then he might actually have swallowed nervously. Memories of hearing of how Granger had once knocked Draco silly suddenly filled his mind dauntingly.

"Er... No it's not," he offered.

She leaned a little closer, putting her face close to his in a manner that was surely meant to be intimidating. Somehow the fact that there was something arousing about her anger-flushed features detracted from anything even remotely intimidating about her however. "Yes it is!"

"No, not anymore that is."

Blaise watched as she once again looked confused. "What are you saying?" she asked sounding a little cautious.

Feeling a little desperate and rather foolish Blaise said, "Well, you see, ever since I, ah, copied it."

Granger's eyes widened. "What? That doesn't make sense!"

"Doesn't it?" he hazarded. Of course he had known from the first moment he had spoken that it was ridiculous.

"No!" She paused, peering at him closely. "So you were up here trying to copy my work?"

Blaise shifted uneasily on the bed. It was something that he had not even wanted to admit to his friends let alone to the person he had been stealing from. The idea of even thinking of admitting to Granger that her assumption was right was ridiculous considering the amount of trouble that it was going to get him into.

He winced, which seemed to be enough of an answer for her.

"But why?" she asked, her voice dropping a little from the rather shrill reaches that it had climbed to. She almost sounded... soft.

The dark haired boy shrugged a noncommittal reply; an action which turned out to be a difficult thing lying back upon the bed as he was. Blaise tipped a little to one side in order to try and straighten where his robes had caught under him uncomfortably. The action startled the witch from her well-maintained position and caused her to put out a hand sharply so that she was leaning upon his chest. Blaise stared down at a hand for a moment before she swiftly removed it. A glance towards her face revealed that she was finally blushing - just a little.

"That," she said, catching herself and making him smile as she did so. "That's no answer. Why, Blaise? I mean, you're intelligent - everyone knows that so why would you... break in here to try and steal me work?"

He winced once again but still did not answer, looking away from her for the first time and rolling his head to one side. There was no way on earth that he could possibly admit to Granger his reasons. The very thought was mortifying.

A hand on his chest made him jump. Whipping his head around sharply to look at her Blaise saw that she had reached down this time in order to touch him instead of being forced to.

"I won't tell anyone," she said quietly. "If you don't want me to that is. Obviously I can't let you take my work but if you explain why then I won't tell anyone... I-I won't going to Professor McGonagall."

Blaise stared into her eyes, searching for what he hoped would be some sign as to her motives. There was nothing however but the same kind encouragement that he had heard in her voice - a fact that was disconcerting in itself. What choice did he have however? If he didn't tell her - or at least come up with a convincing lie - then before he knew it she would have been down the stairs and rushing towards the closest teacher. The problem was of course that he couldn't actually thinking of a lie that would fool the most intelligent girl in school.

Feeling as if he might choke on his words Blaise said in a voice barely above a whisper, "I'm not... doing so well in Arithmancy at the moment."

"I... pardon?"

"I'm failing Arithmancy okay? Happy?"

"Oh no!" she said quickly. "But really? Are you?"

Blaise frowned. "There's no need to sound so happy about it Granger," he said moodily.

"Hermione."

Confusion flickered in his mind. "Excuse me?"

She looked at him as if he was an idiot which, right at that moment, he happened to feel like anyway. "My name is Hermione."

His confusion was not lessened in the least. "Well yes of course it is."

"It's just that if I'm going to be tutoring you then..."

"What?" Blaise said, spitting out the word with a little more vehemence than he had intended. The girl still sitting on top of him however did not so much as flinch.

"Well I can't have you stealing my work and since I... don't completely hate you..." She trailed off, sounding embarrassed and leaving a glimmer of suspicion in the back of Blaise's mind.

Granger - Hermione - liked him? Maybe even fancied him? It was perfectly understandable of course; he was a rather good looking lad but never in a million years would he have thought that would have admitted it to him. The old house rivalry should have stopped her from doing that. Of course it also should have stopped him from wanting to pull her charmingly embarrassed face down to his and kissing the life out of her but right at that moment that did not seem very important. Blaise had to fight not to raise his hand to touch her face.

Still, the thought of her tutoring him was absurd. Wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

The thought would not leave him however. It was stuck in his mind revolving. Part of him was disgusted at the fact, another part of him was rather enamoured with the idea. Granger liked him. In itself that was an attraction because considering how surprisingly enthusiastically he had responded to her then who knew where it might lead them? Then of course there was the fact that the tutoring he would received would undoubtedly help him to regain his high average and doing so would certainly justify any risk involved in such an arrangement. What was a little danger of his unexpected deal being discovered by the other Slytherins' when his future - and more importantly maintaining his mother's good favour - was concerned?

A sly smile began to form on his lips, curving them attractively. "I suppose I'll have to agree then won't I?"

The smile that appeared on the girl's face seemed pleased enough. "Well then we should arrange some times then. When would be..." She stopped abruptly, looking at him cautiously. "Why are you grinning like that?"

"Oh I was just wondering whether I'd have the pleasure of seeing you dressed like this of all our little rendezvous."

She started, blushed and looking away from him shyly.

Blaise's smile widened. He rather imagined that Arithmancy would soon be his favourite lesson once more.

~*~

THE END

~*~