Collide

Trying hard to control my heart
I walk over to where you are
Eye to eye we need no words at all

--Madonna

"I think we're being far too literal about this whole thing," Hermione said. Pointing to something on the parchment that was lying on the table next to the couch in her common room, she added, "I don't think it's three. I think it's many."

"Well, how bloody many is many?" Blaise asked, clearly frustrated.

"How much wood could a woodchuck chuck," she said under her breath.

"Pardon?"

Hermione smiled. "Nothing. Just something I read once." She sighed. "I think we ought to call it a night."

Blaise glanced at his watch and then glanced at it again. "Merlin, is that what time it is?"

"I'm afraid so. And we both need to catch the train tomorrow morning," she said, standing. As Blaise stood up and began to gather his books, she broached the subject that had been weighing on her mind for several days. "You could stay here tonight," she said hesitantly.

He dropped the book he'd been holding and it hit the floor with a thud. "I don't think that would be a good idea." He hadn't spent the night since Hermione had gotten drunk several weeks ago.

"Isn't it the girl who's supposed to object?" she teased.

Blaise frowned. "So now you're calling my manhood into question?"

She shrugged in response and yelped in surprise as he hoisted her over one shoulder and started up the stairs to her room. "Put me down," she said, pounding lightly with her fists on his back. "We can't just leave everything scattered about."

"If you insist," he said, dropping her unceremoniously. Grabbing the railing, she regained her balance and righted herself. With her standing one step above him, they were eye level. Blaise pulled his wand out of his pocket and muttered something. Seconds later, books flew to their proper places as his bag rose up the stairs toward them.

"Feeling pretty proud of ourselves?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Well..." he said, trying not to look too smug. He needn't have worried as she wiped the smug look off his face with a steamy kiss. They continued to kiss as they made their way to her room, Hermione going up the stairs backwards with only Blaise's hands on her waist to guide her. His hand snaked behind her to turn the knob to her room. They stumbled into her room and he kicked the door shut behind them.

Her hands made quick work of the buttons on his shirt. Pushing it off his shoulders, she cast it aside. He grasped the hem of her jumper and tugged it over her head; it too landed on the floor. Mouth on her neck, he toed off his shoes, leaving them on the floor. Hermione's quiet moans only spurred Blaise on and his hands crept around to her back. After several minutes of fumbling, he managed to undo the clasp and slid her bra off. He tore his mouth from her neck and lowered it to her right breast, carefully flicking the nipple with his tongue. To his delight, it stiffened immediately.

"B-blaise," she sighed as he gave the same treatment to her left breast. When he glanced up, her head was thrown back and her eyes closed.

"Bella," he said softly before resuming his actions. Hermione, however, was growing impatient. Tangling her hands in his curly hair, she pulled him back up and kissed him fiercely. As they kissed, tongues thrusting into each other's mouths, Hermione's hands skimmed down Blaise's bare chest, hesitating for a moment before settling on his belt buckle. He pulled back to watch, fascinated, as her slender fingers undid the buckle and the button on his trousers.

She pushed him onto the bed and fell on top of him. Kissing him again (mostly to keep him from watching what she was doing), she slowly unzipped his trousers. Her hand dipped in, gently caressing him, and he thrust upwards. Hermione's mouth left his to trail kisses along his neck and down his chest. Grasping his belt loops, she cautiously pulled his trousers down his legs and Blaise kicked them off. Gathering all her Gryffindor courage, Hermione slowly tugged his Slytherin green boxers down his legs and threw them on the ever growing pile of clothes. She looked at him for a moment, mentally calculating the odds of successfully completing the task she'd set out for herself. Deciding she could do it, she slid down his body.

"H-Hermione," he stuttered out, "y-you don't h-have to..." His sentence was cut off by a low groan.

Less than five minutes later, she pulled away and, looking up, found a contrite looking Blaise Zabini pulling the sheet over himself.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

"It's all right," she said, sitting up. "I just wasn't ready."

"I tried to stop you, but then you did that thing with your tongue." He was blushing enough to do any Weasley proud. "I really am sorry."

"I told you. It's all right."

"I--I know that girls don't like to do that," he said, watching as his fingers traced the patterns on her bed sheets.

"So other girls have done that to you before?" she asked in a low tone.

Blaise's head snapped up to meet her gaze. "N-no. No one's ever..." He shook his head. "It's just what Theo told me."

Hermione felt slightly nauseated. "Someone's done that to Theo?"

He nodded once. "Some 5^th year Ravenclaw."

"But no one's done that to you?"

"No," he replied bashfully, eyes downcast again.

"And..."

"Pardon?"

"Did you enjoy it?" she asked, slightly afraid of the answer.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Are you mad? Of course I enjoyed it."

"Good," she said, snuggling up next to him. One of his hands came up to fondle her breasts.

"Um, where did you learn how to..." he asked, slightly afraid of the answer.

"I haven't done it before if that's what you're asking."

"I didn't mean it like that," he said defensively despite the fact that was exactly what he was asking.

"Right," she replied sarcastically. "I read about it."

"In a book?"

"That's generally what one reads."

Blaise took a deep breath. "I've been reading too," he admitted.

"What?!?"

Rather than answer, he rolled her until she was trapped beneath him. He kissed her neck gently for several minutes as his hands roamed over her torso. When he found a particularly sensitive spot, she arched against him, pushing her bare chest into his. Blaise found himself getting excited again, but pushed aside his own desire, determined to make Hermione feel as good as he had. Slowly, he kissed his way down her chest, paying careful attention to each breast. Trailing kisses along her abdomen, he grinned when she squirmed, exclaiming that it tickled. He dipped his tongue into her bellybutton before his mouth reached the top of her jeans. He locked eyes with her as his fingers, which again felt overly large and entirely too clumsy, fumbled with the snap before undoing it and sliding down her zipper. Her eyes were huge and had darkened to the color of a good cup of coffee. He gripped her jeans and lowered them down her legs. When they were completely off, he tossed them onto the floor.

Kissing her gently through her knickers, he realized that they were very damp and that she smelled like vanilla and something primal he couldn't quite place. All he did know was that her smell was driving him crazy and he pushed his hips more firmly against the bed. He hooked his thumbs into her waistband and carefully pulled her knickers off. They, too, joined the small mountain of clothes on the floor and he lowered his head.

After she'd found her release, Blaise folded his hands on her abdomen and rested his chin on them. "Well?" he said expectantly.

She thought about tormenting him and making him state his question explicitly. "You were brilliant," she said, satisfied grin plastered across her face.

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

Two days after Christmas, Hermione's parents insisted on taking her shopping for a belated birthday gift ('Seventeen is a big milestone,' her mother had insisted). Claiming she didn't need anything, she convinced them to take her to lunch instead.

Dr. Granger held the door for his wife and daughter. The maitre d' greeted them. "Hermione, you are home from school, no?" he asked solicitously.

"Yes, Pierre," she said. "How are you?"

Pierre waved his hand. "Comme ci, comme ca," he replied. "The other member of your party is already waiting for you."

Hermione turned to her parents. "Other member of our party?" Panic set in. "Tell me you're not trying to fix me up with one of your dentist friend's sons."

Dr. Granger shrugged. "He's a very nice boy," she said.

"Mum! I can't!"

"Why not?" Dr. Granger asked sweetly.

"Because I have a boyfriend," she hissed as Pierre showed them to their table.

"It's nice to see you, too, love," Blaise said, standing. As Pierre held the chair for Dr. Granger, Blaise held Hermione's for her.

"W-what are you doing here?" she demanded she sat.

"Happy Christmas?" he said, uncertainly. When he'd gotten the bright idea to owl the Grangers and ask them to lunch, he thought that Hermione would like it. Now, seeing her scowl, he wasn't so sure. "Dr. Granger," he said, shaking Hermione's father's hand. "Dr. Granger," he said, kissing her mother's hand.

"Blaise owled us several weeks ago, asking for permission to call on you over the holiday," Dr. Granger explained.

"And he suggested that we all have lunch together," her mother added.

Half-way through the second course, Dr. Granger leaned closer to her daughter. "He seems like a nice boy. Why didn't you tell us you had a boyfriend?"

Hermione shrugged and glanced shyly at Blaise, who was deep in conversation with her father. It seemed that they were discussing dentistry to her amazement. "I don't know," she answered honestly.

"And he's rather good looking," Dr. Granger whispered.

Hermione smiled. "He is, isn't he?"

"Dear, I was just telling Blaise about the new UV machine we bought," Dr. Granger boomed out. "Seems he's rather knowledgeable about dentistry."

Blaise flushed so slightly that only Hermione noticed it. "Well, I read some things."

"What is it your family does?" Hermione's mother asked.

"We..." He caught Hermione's imperceptible shake of her head. "We make wizard's wine."

"Really? Sounds fascinating," her father commented. "Is the process different from that of muggle winemaking?"

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

Hermione's parents left her in front of the restaurant with Blaise while they went to collect the car. Once they were out of earshot, he turned to her, "Why haven't you told them?"

"I don't want them to worry," she replied.

"Hermione, you may die. And I don't fancy being the one to explain why to your parents after the fact!"

"We don't know that it will be me," she said softly.

"Well, I don't like your odds."

"I can't tell them. They'll try to protect me, pull me out of Hogwarts. That sort of thing," she explained.

"But you really ought to..." She stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.

"Promise me you won't say anything," she implored.

Blaise sighed. "I don't like this. Not at all."

A car horn sounded and Hermione kissed him again. "Thank you."

Blaise extracted a package from his overcoat. "This is for you," he mumbled.

"You already gave me a lovely gift," she said mischievously, grinning as he blushed to the roots of his hair.

"Well, anyway. This is for you." He handed her the package. "Don't open it until you get home."

Not caring that her parents were only fifty feet away or that they were on a public street, Hermione snogged Blaise for several minutes. It was only when the car horn sounded again that she pulled away, face flushed. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"You are coming to the Burrow for New Year's Eve?"

Blaise nodded. "Yes." He flashed her a grin. "You know that Potter's invited Millie?"

"Of course," she said haughtily. "Who do you think convinced him?" With that, she shot across the street and into the back of her parents' car. As they drove away, she waved wildly. Blaise waved back. Turning into the nearest alleyway, he drew his wand and apparated back to Theo's.