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So why ya gotta stand there

Looking like the answer now

It seems to me - you'd come around

I need you now

--Matchbox Twenty

"Zabini's here," the little girl announced in a bored tone to Hermione. He'd been coming two to three times per week for the last three weeks as they attempted to solve the Arithmancy problem that Professor Vector had assigned to them. Hermione opened the door to find Blaise leaning up against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest.

"Hermione," he said, smirking as he looked her up and down. "That's a...lovely jumper." She was wearing jeans and the jumper Mrs. Weasley had knit for her last Christmas. It was the same shade of periwinkle as her fourth year Yule Ball robes and there was a large 'H' embroidered on the front.

"Do you ever wear anything other than your uniform?" she replied, scowling. Blaise was wearing his uniform shirt--half-untucked--his trousers, and his tie--loosened but not unknotted.

"My boxers to bed," he replied, slipping past her.

Hermione flushed at the thought of Blaise in his boxers. Infuriated at the feelings he could provoke in her, she snapped, "What are you so happy about?"

"Well, besides the fact that Snape's given six detentions this week, nothing much," he shrugged as he dropped his bag unceremoniously on the floor. "Oh, and there's the fact that I've figured it out," he said matter-of-factly.

"Figured what out?" Hermione asked.

Pulling a piece of parchment out of his back pocket, he handed it to her without a word. Hermione scanned the first two lines of his chart and looked up at him. "You've figured it out?"

He nodded and, sitting on the couch, propped his feet up. As she paced and continued reading, she shoved his feet off of her table. Suddenly, she spotted the flaw in Blaise's solution. "Ha!" she said triumphantly. "It won't work."

"Pardon?"

Feeling slightly good about the fact she'd burst his smug little bubble, she plopped down on the couch next to him. "You see right here?" She pointed to the fifth line, second column. "Doesn't fit."

"Merda!"

Although Hermione didn't speak Italian, she had a fairly good idea of what Blaise had just said. "Don't swear," she said absentmindedly. "However, maybe this..." She grabbed the quill from behind her ear and began scribbling on the parchment. Blaise leaned closer to see what she was doing, yanking off his tie and undoing the first two buttons on his shirt.

"No, no," he said brusquely. "It can't be a four. Try an eight." Blaise grabbed the quill from her hand and began writing feverishly. Hermione's eyes attempted to follow what he was doing, but soon gave up and settled for sitting back and observing him. She decided that he really wasn't a bad bloke. He was very intelligent and could actually be witty and quite decent when he wished. The dark curly hair, blue eyes, and broad shoulders certainly didn't hurt. She found her eyes being drawn to that small patch of hair peeking between his opened buttons. Groaning, she shut her eyes.

"Look!" Blaise said triumphantly, shoving the parchment into her hands.

Hermione opened her eyes and her gaze traveled over the parchment. Two minutes later, she was staring at him, wide-eyed. "I think that's it," she said quietly.

"R-really?" he said, sounding unsure of himself.

"Really," she replied, realizing just how closely they were sitting together. "You've done it."

"I couldn't have done it without you," he said softly.

She dropped her gaze. "I'm sure you would have..." Her voice trailed off as he leaned closer to her.

"As I'm sure you would have..." he said, swallowing audibly. "Hermione," he whispered.

She looked up just in time to see his face get closer. Instinctively, her eyes fluttered shut. Just as his lips touched hers, the door banged open.

"Stupid girlfriend," Ernie grumbled. Catching sight of Hermione and Blaise in such close proximity, Ernie grinned. "Don't let me interrupt."

They both jumped off the couch. "I should be going," Blaise said, grabbing his bag off the floor. "Um, I'll talk to you tomorrow then," he said, beating a hasty retreat.

"Was it something I said?" Ernie said cheekily.

Hermione watched as the door closed behind Blaise. "Sod off, Ernie," she said before stomping up the stairs.

*************************************

Hermione skidded to a stop in front of Dumbledore's office. Uttering the password ('Skiving Snackboxes'), she waited impatiently for the door to open. As soon as it did, she climbed on the first step. All McGonagall had said was that the Headmaster wanted to see her.

"Hold the door!" Blaise's voice shouted. He hopped onto the bottom step and raced up to join Hermione.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Snape said Dumbledore wanted to see me," he said, slightly out of breath.

"McGonagall told me the same thing." As the staircase glided up, she took a deep breath. "About the other night..." She trailed off, not really sure of what to say. She wanted to say that she was sorry Ernie had barged in and that she wished they could pick up where they left off. However, since she was unsure of (1) where she stood with Blaise and (2) whether or not a relationship between a Slytherin and Gryffindor would ever work out ('Relationship?' she admonished herself silently, 'You've never even kissed. Putting the cart before the horse, aren't we?'), Hermione said nothing.

"Right, the other night," he said quietly. "We were just..."

"Mr. Zabini, Miss Granger," Dumbledore greeted them as the door to his study opened.

"Headmaster, you wanted to see us," Hermione said, thinking the old man had terrible timing.

"Actually, Professor Vector," he said, gesturing to his right. Professor Vector stood up and waved. "Has given me the most wonderful news." He urged the two of them to sit down. "It seems you've solved the Vastodoc puzzle."

Hermione looked at Blaise, who seemed to be as shocked as she was. "The Vastodoc puzzle? But no one's been able to solve that since 1896."

"Yes, I believe that's why Professor Vector is so pleased," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Blaise asked, eyes narrowing.

"Blaise," Hermione hissed. "I don't think the Headmaster would joke about something like this." Blaise didn't look convinced, merely crossing his arms over his chest.

"Miss Granger is correct. I am quite serious." Dumbledore paused. "So serious that the Ministry would like to meet with both of you."

"The M-ministry?" Hermione stammered.

"The Department of Mysteries to be quite specific."

"When?" Blaise demanded.

"I've scheduled a meeting for Monday morning. You'll take a portkey directly to the Ministry."

"Why wait until Monday?" Blaise said, sounding unhappy about the whole thing.

"I thought you two might want the weekend to prepare your presentation," Dumbledore said indulgently.

"T-thank you, Headmaster," Hermione said, standing and grabbing Blaise by the arm. She tugged him back toward the spiral staircase. Once the door shut behind them, she turned to Blaise. "You could have been a little more enthusiastic."

He shrugged. "It's not as if anyone asked if we wanted to present this."

Looking startled, she said abruptly, "I can do it myself. You needn't come." She winced inwardly at the hurt tone her voice had taken on.

"And let you take all the credit? Not bloody likely," he replied. At the bottom of the stairs, he paused, reaching out to catch the sleeve of her robes. "We make a pretty good team."

"W-we do," she said, thinking her voice sounded too high.

Relinquishing her sleeve, he suddenly said in an overly loud voice, "We should celebrate."

"Celebrate?" Thankfully, her voice was back to normal.

"You probably have plans for this weekend already," he said darkly. "For Hogsmeade."

Hermione shook her head. "I wasn't planning on going."

"Pardon?" He looked confused. 'And quite cute,' Hermione's traitorous mind added.

"Well, Harry's going with Susan and Ron's going with Lavender." She shrugged. "I had no desire to be the fifth wheel."

"I see," he replied. A long moment passed and suddenly Blaise nodded as if he'd come to some kind of agreement. "You could come with me?"

"You're asking me to go to Hogsmeade with you?" she clarified.

"Yes. To celebrate." He paused and then quickly added, "And we could discuss our presentation."

"Right," she agreed, trying not to sound disappointed. "Our presentation."

Clearing his throat, he asked again, "So you'll go with me?"

"Of course."

*****************************************

Saturday morning found Hermione pacing anxiously outside the Great Hall. Blaise was supposed to have met her ten minutes ago. Everyone else had departed for Hogsmeade. 'Maybe he changed his mind,' her mind whispered. She shook her head against that thought. 'After all, he's a Slytherin,' it added. Just as she was about to give up, he came strolling out of the Great Hall, mug of coffee clutched in his right hand.

"Sorry I'm late. Millie had a crisis," he explained, sipping his coffee.

"Is she all right?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"She will be," he said with no elaboration. "Shall we?"

"All right," she said with a nod.

"Any place in particular you care to go?" he asked between sips of coffee.

"I'd like to see if the bookstall has anything new," she admitted, waiting for the inevitable teasing.

"Hopefully, they've got in that cursebreaking book I ordered," he said, without a trace of irony in his voice. "Don't look so shocked. I do read."

Hermione shook her head. "It's not that. I suppose I'm accustomed to Harry and Ron's reactions when I want to go to the bookstall. Usually, it's 'Why do you want to go there?' or 'Wouldn't you rather go to Honeyduke's?'"

"Sounds like they don't appreciate you," he said, his eyes lingering on her body slightly longer than was polite.

Choosing to ignore his innuendo, she turned his original question back on him. "Any place else you'd care to go?"

"I thought I could buy you lunch at the Three Broomsticks." He smiled. "And I've heard the Head Girl is a chocolate fiend so I suppose we'll be stopping at Honeyduke's."

Hermione smiled back. "I've heard that too."

Blaise drained the last bit out of his cup. Using his wand, he shrunk it and placed it in his pocket. "Promised Dobby I'd return the cup," he explained with a shrug.

"You know Dobby?" Hermione asked, astonished.

"How could you not, what with all the tea cozies and such." His smile stretched into a grin. "You're a horrible knitter by the way."

Rather than get upset, she grinned back. "Can't be good at everything."

"So what else is the Head Girl rubbish at?" he asked mischievously.

Placing a finger over her lips, she considered the question. "I can't cook. At all."

"Well, I happen to be an excellent cook. So you see we do make a good team. Complementing each other and all that."

"So what can't you do?" Hermione asked.

"I can't fly a broomstick to save my life."

"There goes your theory."

"Pardon?" They were nearly at Hogsmeade.

"I can't fly either. So your theory about us making a good team..." She trailed off at the look that passed across Blaise's face. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought he looked disappointed.

The jovial moment gone, they walked the rest of the way in silence. Finally, as they started up the main street of Hogsmeade, Blaise spoke up. "You'll notice I'm not wearing my uniform."

Hermione's eyes traveled slowly from the top of his curly-haired head over his face, down his jumper-clad chest and along his denim-clad legs. "I noticed," she said softly, shivering slightly.

Blaise took the shivering as a sign she was cold. "Where's your scarf?" he demanded. Without warning, he removed his own scarf from around his neck, placed it around Hermione's, and gently knotted it. Stepping back, he said, "You look good in green."

"I can't wear this," she started to say.

"Why not? Because it's Slytherin? Or because it's mine?" he cut in, angrily.

"Because you'll be cold," she finished.

"Oh," he said, sounding abashed. As she began to unknot Blaise's scarf, his hands covered hers, stilling them. "Please leave it on. I'll be fine." She nodded in agreement, but only one of his hands returned to his side. The other one held on to hers as they walked. Hermione glanced shyly from their joined hands to Blaise's face and back again. He must have noticed because the next thing he said was, "Is this all right?"

She nodded, face lighting up in a smile. "Shall we go to the bookstall?"

***************************************

Three hours later, they had finished shopping at the bookstall and Honeyduke's. Blaise's arms were weighed down with several of Hermione's packages. "I'm famished," he commented. "Lunch?"

"I'd love to," she responded, holding a few bags of her own. She was happy she'd gotten everything she needed, but regretting the fact that all the packages made them unable to hold hands any longer. She marveled at how well her slender, pale hand fit into his much larger, tanned one.

They walked toward the Three Broomsticks when Blaise suddenly stopped. "Bollocks," he said.

"What is it?"

He shook his head. "I left my cursebreaking book at the bookstall."

"We could go back and get it," she suggested.

"No, you go on and get us a table. I'll meet you in a few minutes."

"It's really not a problem for..."

Blaise shook his head emphatically. "It's chilly out here. Go on then." As she continued down the street, he called out, "And order me a coffee. Madame Rosmerta will know which one I want."

Several minutes later, he was tracing the same route toward the Three Broomsticks, his book balanced on top of the three Hermione had purchased. About two blocks from the pub, he caught a glimpse of something green out of the corner of his eye. There, fluttering in an alleyway, was a Slytherin scarf. Surrounding the scarf were several bags from Honeyduke's. Dropping the books he was carrying, Blaise broke into a run toward the Three Broomsticks.

He spotted Harry and Ron and their dates at a corner table. "Where's Hermione?" Blaise shouted.

"What do you want?" Ron spat out.

"Where's Hermione?" Blaise repeated, grabbing Harry by his collar and hauling him out of his seat.

"What's this about?" Susan said, trying to make peace.

"Hermione and I were walking over here when I had to go back to the bookstall. As I was returning, I found her things in the alleyway," Blaise explained, sounding anguished. He watched as the color drained from Harry's face. "You don't know where she is, do you?"

"Let's get back to the castle," Lavender suggested, sounding sensible for once.