Someone Like You

Harry was a complete wreck when Sirius died; he wandered around the castle like a ghost, his face pasty and white and he couldn't seem to eat anything more than bread. People whispered about him as they passed, but for once he didn't seem to notice; rather, he gazed at them as they went, his eyes dull and unfocused. Ron and Hermione became seriously worried, but couldn't seem to do anything for him.

He missed everything about his godfather; from his clever thoughts to his jokes, even his Christmas singing. It seemed that God, or whoever the hell was up there, had taken away Harry's every chance of family-his mum, his dad, and now Sirius.

Most of all, he missed the advice. Advice about anything and everything-especially girls. Girls-even the word confused him. They were so hard to please. You tried to show them you liked them, and they ran off crying. What was he doing wrong?

And Snape was also a piercing problem. He just seemed to be getting more and more unbearable. The third day of their sixth year, when Snape had put them into pairs for a Potions assignment on antidotes, he just knew it was going to be a nightmare. Where are you when I bloody need you, Sirius?

Harry was paired up with Blaise Zabini.

All he could really say was that it was fortunate he wasn't with Malfoy-later Ron had weakly joked that they would have cursed each other to death before they could've gotten any work done. He had been put with Millicent Bulstrode; Hermione with Pansy Parkinson.

'The evil cow,' Hermione had said venomously on their way to Transfiguration. 'She's so horrible it's almost impossible for anyone to like her!'

Harry hadn't said anything; he had simply been dreading the whole ordeal. He was sure that, as a Slytherin, Zabini was going to be just like Malfoy-but a girl, of course. At seven thirty that night, he waved goodbye to Ron and Hermione and left for the library.

Zabini was already there when he arrived, flipping idly through the pages of a Charms textbook. She would've been a pretty girl, Harry thought uncomfortably, if she smiled. But she didn't. She only looked at him, her too-bright blue eyes slightly mocking, and greeted him with, 'Potter. I thought you'd be late.'

'You don't know anything, Zabini,' Harry retorted, determined not to be outdone.

She smiled this time, a wide brilliant sparkling smile. 'I know a lot more than you think.'

Harry, unnerved by her smile, looked away. 'We better get to work.'

They copied notes down for the next hour or so, rustling papers and sorting through books. At eight thirty, Harry consulted his watch.

'We've got most of the information; we should start putting it together tomorrow. Seven thirty again?'

'Eight,' Blaise replied brusquely, gathering up her notes. 'I have to meet Dra-someone for something.'

'This assignment is slightly more important than silly snogging sessions, Zabini,' Harry stated dryly, catching the beginning of her sentence. 'If you don't mind, I'd like to get this done.'

Blaise stared at him, her expression condescending. 'I pity you, Potter. Do you really think I actually want to stay here and look at your face for longer than absolutely necessary?'

'And do you think I really want to sit here and stare at yours for more than is necessary either?' Right back at you, witch!

Blaise's mouth twisted into a wry smile. 'Why, Potter, you've been staring at me? I'm flattered.'

Damn. Walked right into that one.

'See you at eight.' She turned on her heel and walked out of the library.

Harry didn't follow her.

*

They met several times after that in the library to gather more information. They had formed a strange sort of relationship, which Harry couldn't quite figure out. They were civil, and sometimes even, well, nice to each other.

Alright, not nice, but friendly. Sort of.

Harry just wished she wasn't so mystifying. It wasn't as if he wanted to know what she was thinking, he assured himself, he didn't, he just wanted to know where he stood.

And although he would rather Avada Kedavra himself than admit it, Harry did feel a little bit, just a tiny bit, attracted to her. He found himself watching her sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, as she resolutely flipped through books and pieces of parchment, her face determined and her eyes like azure fire. He couldn't quite get this strange attraction any more than he could understand her personality. She's horrible, and on the other side, and besides she's probably shagging Draco Malfoy, he would tell himself, angry for his feelings. Ron and Hermione were becoming increasingly worried about his bad moods, but Harry was sick of them asking him whether he was okay or not every five minutes. It certainly didn't make him feel any better.

The fourth time they were in the library, they were putting their notes together. The place was empty and peaceful, and Harry was grateful; he was sick of listening to the others trying to spy on him and whisper about the incident "at the end of last year".

Just when they were finishing up, Draco Malfoy came into the library. Harry inwardly sighed; he hadn't noticed them yet, but Malfoy was just the last person he wanted to see. 'Your boyfriend's here to pick you up,' he said wearily.

Blaise, he was surprised to note, looked almost as annoyed as he felt.

'Shit!' she said. 'Okay, Potter, just do as I tell you and ask questions later. Pick me up and put me on the table.'

Harry was bewildered. 'Zabini, what the-?'

'Do it,' she hissed. 'Now!'

Harry didn't feel he had any choice; he lifted Blaise up onto the table.

'Now, kiss me,' she whispered, her eyes darting towards Malfoy.

Harry didn't like where this was going. Kiss her? Now? Was she completely batty?

'Do-it,' she spat out of the corner of her mouth. 'Or I'll make you sorry later.'

Harry, always the stubborn one, just glared at her. 'I'm not going to-oof!'

She had wrenched him by his shirt and brought her mouth onto his. Before Harry had time to react, her warm soft lips were moving on his, so softly, her breath hot against his cheek, her hair tickling his neck.

And he liked it.

Harry didn't have any more time than he had previously to react; Blaise jumped off him with a fake, sweet smile and kissed him soundly on the cheek. She then turned to meet Malfoy's positively icy gaze.

'Draco, sweetie! Just in time. I'll just get my stuff and go now. Bye-bye, hun!' Blaise fluttered her fingers at Harry in faked enthusiasm as Malfoy dragged her off. She signalled madly at him behind his back for Harry to meet her outside; Harry could hear "WHAT THE FU-" echo down the corridor, and Blaise shushing him.

Harry was in a strange state of shock; he shakily picked up his work and walked out into the corridor. Blaise Zabini had just kissed him. What was that about? Puzzled thoughts ran through his head.

Blaise was waiting for him by the stairs, her fountain of black hair glinting from the moonlit window

'Sorry about that,' she said in a rather unapologetic tone. 'He did something to annoy me a while ago, so I just-paid him back for it.'

There was an uncomfortable silence, in which Blaise stared rather defiantly at him.

'You mean you ... used me? To get back at Malfoy? Because he annoyed you?' Harry was starting to feel frustrated, especially at himself for not doing anything to stop the incident-was he just a bloody convenience?

Blaise shrugged. 'Sorry. It didn't mean anything.'

He didn't care that she was sorry, he didn't care that she didn't "mean anything". Memories of Sirius and Voldemort mixed up painfully in his head. Anger that he had suppressed for so long was starting to boil up again. 'You can't just do that! Go around and use people, you're all alike, Slytherins! You can't even try to be polite, CAN YOU? Everyone's just a bloody shortcut, it doesn't matter how they feel, you don't even know that you MIGHT BE ACTUALLY HURTING PEOPLE, YOU DON'T-'

'Shut up!' Blaise hissed. 'You'll wake everyone up, you idiot!'

But Harry was beyond caring. Words came pouring out in an relentless flow-he couldn't seem to stop himself. '-AND IT DOESN'T MATTER, DOES IT, AS LONG AS YOU GET WHAT YOU WANT, WHAT YOU SUPPOSEDLY DESERVE TO GET, WHAT YOU-'

His words died as again, that wonderful, soft silky mouth descended on his. He relaxed into her immediately, pulling her closer to him, pouring all his anger and frustration and pent-up energy into her. She responded, twining her arms around his neck, running her hands through his hair. He moaned and slid his hands onto her waist, running circles down her back.

But common sense must have returned to Blaise first, because she pushed him away suddenly. Harry stumbled backwards slightly and his rational side caught up with him too.

'Why did you do that?' he demanded angrily, too cross to make any kind of sense, furious at himself for throwing caution to the wind and getting carried away. The taste of her had just been so good that he-

Stop it

.

'Well, it sure succeeded in making you shut up,' Blaise answered, flashing him that hundred-watt smile again.

Was she-was she

flirting with him? Harry thought incredulously.

Blaise seemed to realise exactly the same thing he did at exactly the same time; she actually blushed, bright spots of colour rising high in her cheeks. Harry was amazed; he never knew that Blaise Zabini could actually look anything other than haughty and superior.

'I've got to go; see you tomorrow,' she muttered, turning and walking away. Harry listened to the sound of her dying footsteps before proceeding to the Gryffindor Tower himself, shaking his head but unable to suppress a smile.

Looks like I managed fine without your help, Sirius

, he thought with a grin. Just fine.