Collide

Help me 'cause I'm off the radar screen

Help me 'cause you know just where I've been

Help me 'cause I've lost my faith

Help me mend my broken ways

--Pat McGee Band

Hermione glanced over at Blaise whose nose was currently buried in a book on cursebreaking. His tie was sitting between them on the table and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. That patch of dark curly hair was sitting there innocently between his undone collar, mocking her. She sighed--partly in frustration with the assignment they were working on and partly with another kind of frustration altogether. Since they'd mended fences two weeks ago, nothing further had happened between them.

"Something the matter, love?" Blaise said absentmindedly.

Hermione blinked twice before replying. "Did you just call me 'love'?" she said slowly.

"No, I don't think so," Blaise said, keeping a straight face as he looked up from his book.

"Sorry, my mistake," she replied. 'More like wishful thinking,' her brain scoffed.

"You didn't answer my question," he said thoughtfully.

"What was that?"

"I asked you if something was the matter."

She shrugged. "Nervous about the presentation, I suppose."

He smiled encouragingly at her. "We'll be brilliant."

Their presentation to the Ministry about the Vastodoc puzzle had been postponed in light of her recent ordeal and was now scheduled for the coming Monday. "I always get nervous and speak entirely too much."

Blaise considered her statement for a moment. "What if we have some sort of signal? That I can use if you're babbling?" he suggested. He tugged on his left earlobe. "Perhaps this?"

Hermione burst out laughing. "I don't think so."

"All right then. What about this?" He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue.

"That will undoubtedly make us look highly intelligent," she said, covering her mouth with one hand. It was rare that Blaise was so playful. Seeking some way to prolong the nice moment they were having, she tapped her nose. "What about this?"

"Oh and that will impress them," he said, laughing along with her.

"I suppose you've got a better suggestion," she demanded, mock seriously.

"I could do this." Without warning, he reached across the table to take her hand. Swallowing hard, he continued, "I mean if it's all right with you."

"I don't think it would be a problem," she replied, mouth dry.

"Good," he said before burying his nose in his book. However, he was still holding her hand. As he immersed himself in cursebreaking once more, his thumb swept lazily over the back of her hand. Hermione looked down at the book in front of her, but the words seemed to all swim together. The gentle caress of his thumb was triggering a cascade of tingly feelings all over.

He peeked up to find her staring at their joined hands, mouth slightly opened, and he allowed himself the tiniest smile. 'Don't look so smug,' his brain ordered. "It's not as if you can get up from this table any time soon.'

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

Hermione looked shyly across the Great Hall to the Slytherin table the following morning. Blaise was huddled with Millicent and Theodore. When he caught sight of Hermione staring, he smiled brightly and nodded at her.

The owls swooped in to deliver the morning's mail and the Daily Prophet landed in front of her with a thud. Glancing at the front page, she became engrossed in a story on the werewolf rights' bill.

"Come on, Hermione. We're going to be late," Ron said, shoveling a last forkful of eggs into his mouth.

"All right," she said, folding the paper and stowing it in her bulging bag. As they exited the Great Hall, she bumped into someone. "So sorry."

Blaise broke into a smile. "I was just looking for you. I thought perhaps I could walk you to class." Hermione nodded in response. As they walked to Potions, she fretted about whether or not he would hold her hand. Part of her wanted it because it felt so wonderful while the other part of her was afraid that people would talk. He'd held her hand last night up until the moment they arrived at her door. Of course, as soon as he'd leaned closer, Ernie had come barreling out, interrupting the moment. 'Again,' she thought crossly.

"Hermione?"

"Y-yes," she said, coming out of her daydream of Blaise kissing her.

"I asked if we were meeting tonight."

"All right."

"Library?"

She was going to agree, but suddenly made an executive decision. "No, let's meet at my room."

She was positive that he blushed. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," she said, throwing him a grin.

"Mr. Zabini," Snape interrupted, "the Headmaster would like to have a word with you." Blaise shrugged. When Hermione made to join him, thinking it was about their presentation, Snape spoke up again. "Just Mr. Zabini. I'm sure you can bear being apart for a few moments," he sneered.

But Blaise didn't reappear in Potions nor did he show up in Ancient Runes. During lunch, Hermione's head turned toward the entrance every time someone showed up. Blaise never did. Finally, after he was absent for Double Arithmancy, she resolved to get to the bottom of the matter. Making an excuse about not feeling well to Professor Vector, Hermione was waiting outside of Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom when the 7^th Years began to spill out.

"Millicent!" she shouted, pushing her way through the crowd.

The taller girl stopped when she heard her name. Hermione waved to get her attention. "Hello, Gr--Hermione," she said pleasantly.

"Have you seen Blaise? He met with the Headmaster this morning and then he never showed up for any of his classes."

"Didn't you see the Prophet this morning?"

"Yes, but I fail to see what this has to do..."

"The front page story?" Millicent pressed.

"On werewolf rights? I don't understand..."

Millicent rolled her eyes. "The other front page story."

Hermione ignored her and dug the paper out of her bag. There, under the fold, was a large headline. "Oh my gods," she uttered. "Where is he?" Millicent shrugged. "Millicent, please."

"Well, when he wants to be alone, he usually goes to the Hufflepuff stands or to the Astronomy Tower."

Hermione hurried away without even a good-bye.

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

"Blaise."

"How did you find me?" he said, not bothering to turn around.

She set her bag down and moved to where he was standing. Keeping her hands firmly on the chest-high wall, she reminded herself not to look down. "Millicent gave me a few suggestions." She paused, not knowing what to say. "Is your family..."

He laughed mirthlessly. "They're fine. In hiding now, but fine."

"I'm so sorry," she said as she inched her left hand over to cover his.

"But the vineyards..." Another hollow chuckle. "Zabinis have been making wizard's wine for over four hundred years. And now it's all...gone..." He made an oddly pitched, wheezing noise. Still not knowing what to say to the clearly distraught boy whose hand held tightly to hers, she just stood there and let him talk. "Papa used to take me out to the vineyards when I was a boy and tell me that someday it would be all my responsibility. That I would be the man of the house and I would work the land and then pass it on to my son. I can't believe it's..." The rest of his sentence was swallowed up by a sob.

She turned, intending to envelop him in her arms, but he moved away. "Blaise, let me help..."

"N-no," he said, voice husky with emotion. "I can't. I'm sorry, Hermione. I can't...can't do this. Not with you." He left her standing alone on top of the Astronomy Tower.

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

Blaise reappeared in classes the next morning, taking care to avoid being near Hermione. He rushed through lunch so that she wouldn't have time to corner him and took to spending hours in the Slytherin dormitory. Millicent watched him, but said nothing. Finally, on the third day, she snapped.

"What the hell are you doing, Blaise?" she demanded.

He looked up from his Runes textbook. "What are you on about?"

"You. You've been hiding in here for three days now. You only go out for classes and meals. And you've been avoiding Hermione. What's going on?"

He shrugged. "Hermione and I...we're better off as classmates," he replied before going back to his reading.

Millicent snapped the heavy textbook shut, barely missing Blaise's slightly-too-large nose. "And I'm only 5 foot tall," she said sarcastically. "Did something happen?"

"Millie, please drop it," he said in a warning tone.

She ignored him; she knew far too much dirt on him to be afraid. "I will not drop it. You obviously care for her and, for some unfathomable reason, she cares for you."

"Yes, and that's exactly why my family was threatened!"

She sat heavily in the armchair across from him, clearly surprised by his outburst. "Pardon?" she finally said.

"I got involved, Millie. And my mother and my sister and her family have paid the price."

"You think your family's vineyards were destroyed because of your relationship with Hermione?" she said slowly and deliberately.

"Don't tell me you think it's a coincidence?" He snorted with derision. "Not even you are that daft, Millie. My family has stayed out of this whole V-V-...mess for generations. Well, except for me. And look what's happened."

"I think it's about time you've taken a stand on the whole mess, Blaise. You've spent the last six years lurking silently in the shadows while the rest of us took up one side or another."

"Don't you understand? I couldn't! I'm the head of my family. It's my responsibility to keep them safe. My responsibility to keep Mama, and Therese and Frank, and Salvatore and Heather safe. And what a bloody hash I've made of it!" he shouted before throwing his book on the floor and stomping up the staircase to his dorm.

Millicent sat, stunned, for a few moments. Nodding to herself, she knew what she had to do.

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

The letter arrived at breakfast two days later, a tawny owl no one had seen before dropping it in front of Blaise. Recognizing the script as his mother's, he snatched it up and found a deserted classroom in which to read it.

'Ragazzo bello," he read. 'I hope this letter finds you well. Therese, Frank, and the children are all doing fine as am I. I am writing to see how you are faring at school; I know that seventh year is a very important year for you. The main reason I am writing is because I feel that your father--resto del dio la sua anima--and I have done you a grave disservice. I fear that his talk about your position as the head of the family has made you feel responsibility for things over which you have no control. Quello caro, responsibility to us does not mean that you cannot have a life of your own. A little birdie has informed me that there is a girl for whom you have feelings. Don't put aside your feelings for us. Being with your father and having you and Therese have brought me great joy in my life. I want to see you have that joy as well. Write me when you can. Your head of house can get the letter to me. Ti amo, Mama.'

Blaise read through it again to make sure he'd understood his mother. Shaking his head, he murmured, "A little birdie, my arse." He folded the letter and carefully tucked it inside his robes. Opening the door, he came face to face with Hermione. "Hermione, I need..."

"Shut up!" she said, pushing him back into the classroom. She used her wand to lock the door. "I have some things I need to say to you."

"But I want..."

She acted like he hadn't said anything and plowed ahead. "I know you want nothing to do with me. And that's all well and good. But there are several things you should know." Ticking off each 'thing' on her fingers, she said, "First of all, we still need to present to the Ministry on Monday. And you can be angry at me, but we still have a responsibility. So you're going to have to deal with me a little while longer."

"But..."

"Secondly," she rolled over his protest, "I know--" Here, she used her other hand to poke her wand into his chest. "--that you have feelings for me. More than friendly feelings toward me. If you just expect them to go away, you're sadly mistaken. They won't. I know from experience."

"Herm--"

"Because, thirdly, I have more than friendly feelings for you. Feelings which I've done my utmost to ignore. But they won't go away. They just get stronger and stronger every..." Her voice trailed off as one of his hands grasped the hand she was ticking the reasons off on. "W-what are you doing?"

"Giving you the signal," he said quietly. "You know, that you're babbling?"

"Oh."

"Now may I please get in a word edgewise?" At her nod, he continued. "I'm sorry I've been avoiding you. I thought that what happened to my family was because I became involved with you. And I thought that if I ignored you, they would be safe. I know that's not true." He took a deep breath. "You were correct. I do have feelings for you. And I know that ignoring them doesn't make them go away." He laced their fingers together. "I hope you can forgive me," he said, words sticking in his throat. He didn't say them very often. She smiled a brilliant smile and he was glad he'd managed to choke them out.

"Of course I forgive you."

Blaise smiled back. "Are you certain that the door is locked?"

"Yes, why do..." She stopped speaking as he bent down and brushed his mouth over hers.

He pulled back after a moment. "I don't want Ernie disturbing us," he said before she stood on her toes and pressed her mouth against his again. This kiss was not quite as chaste as their first as her tongue gently parted his lips. Their tongues dueled as Hermione dropped her wand and grasped fistfuls of robe, pulling him nearer. His hands drifted to her hips, helping to close the inches separating them. Blaise felt as if he were falling and flying at the same time. Suddenly, she pulled away and he groaned. "Have I done something wrong?" he murmured.

Opening his eyes, he was delighted to see her blush. "I just needed to breathe," she whispered.

"I happen to think breathing is highly overrated," he said, dipping his head.

"Me, too," she concurred, kissing him again.