Hermione Granger was angry, very angry. Ginny Weasley, that pretty little redhead everyone likes,

Cough Harry-stalker Cough

Had somehow convinced her to go on a blind date. Needless to say, Hermione felt nauseous, at the very thought. Hermione had been stupid; Ginny had trapped her at a weak moment, when she was doing her Arithmancy homework in the library. If someone asked her a question while she was doing her homework, she was likely to reply with a "Hmm," or else a "Yeah, fine."

So, at the time Hermione didn't register what she had agreed to, she was brought back to earth, however, with a rather nasty bump, when she found a note Ginny left on her desk; to remind her - the night before.


Meet your blind date, (hand picked by yours truly), at The Three Broomsticks at 11:00 am for chatter, drinks and ultimately lunch. He will be wearing a blue sweatshirt and has black hair. Do have fun, you scarlet woman, you!

Your dearest and prettiest friend, (don't come and kill me, please!)


Hermione sighed and scrunched the parchment up into a ball. This was, to put it mildly, not good. Like the organised person she was, Hermione extracted a sheaf of parchment from her desk drawer and made a list.

Pros and Cons of a blind date Pros: Er…will shut Ginny up

Will avoid having to go into Zonko's with Harry and Ron

Date might turn out to be tall, dark, handsome stranger… maybe

Cons: Am likely to be bored out of my mind.

Am likely to end up in embarrassing situation.

Date might turn out to be a spotty geek, (even I think about things besides books!)

Am likely to waste a whole Hogsmeade weekend, doing nothing!

By the time we get to Honeydukes, they will have sold out of all the good coffee and sugar-free chocolate.


Ginny will never shut up about it.

Harry and Ron will get all protective.

What if it's a Hufflepuff???? Oh God, chance of conversation zero

Conclusion: Way too late to back out, will have to grit teeth and bear it.

Hermione groaned; in this situation she would have liked to not be logical. Logical here, didn't give her the answer she wanted; so instead, she sulked.

Hermione woke up, with her head lying on her very uncomfortable wooden desk; her list from the night before stuck to her forehead and a bad ache in her neck. She groaned blearily and rubbed her eyes, peering out of the window. It looked early, judging by the light, but not too early for her to get ready and eat in the Great Hall.

With a great effort, she dragged herself off her desk and fell, in a very un-Hermione-ish way, into the shower, which was attached to the girl's dormitory.

Twenty minuets later, Hermione emerged, clad in a woolly jumper and jeans; it was after all winter and Hermione was a sensible girl. She stopped in front of Parvati's mirror and examined her hair. Huge. She sighed, well, even if she wasn't looking forward to the dreaded blind date-which-would-not, -like-the-Boy-Who-Lived, -go-away, it was only polite to make some sort of effort. So, naturally, she plaited her hair. Making an effort to an ordinary girl meant sparkly eye shadow; Hermione, however, took one look at Parvati's make-up and cringed. It was looking at her. However, she felt very proud of herself; she'd never plaited hair in her life, and though she didn't consider herself pretty, she knew it made a difference.

With a proud smile on her face, she left the dormitory and walked down to the Great Hall on her own. There were a few people in there; a black haired Slytherin she didn't know, reading a book, a couple of bleary looking Hufflepuffs and, sitting at the Gryffindor table; Harry. Hermione walked over and sat next to Harry, taking some toast and coffee.

"Morning, Harry, you look tired," she commented. Harry shot her a look.

"It's six-thirty, Hermione," came the irritable reply.

"I know what time it is, Harry, why don't you go back to bed?" A grunt was the only answer she received. "Did you have a er, vision, Harry?" Another grunt. "Harry, do you think that maybe you should tell Professor Dumbledore?" she suggested timidly.

"I already have; anyways, you look nice, Hermione," he replied, changing the subject hastily, but sounding genuine, as he smiled slightly at her hair. Hermione smiled back, going slightly pink. "So, getting all dressed up for our tall, dark, handsome stranger are we?" Harry pressed, with a small smirk on his face. Hermione looked utterly scandalised.

"How did you know about that?" she demanded, distinctly redder in the face.

"Ginny," was all the answer she got. Hermione smirked herself this time.

"Oh, been talking to Ginny, have you, Harry?" she drawled, hoping to take the focus off her, as she polished off her toast.

"Shut up," was the only mumbled, red-faced reply Hermione got. Hermione's smirk widened; it was horribly childish she knew, but,

"Oooooohhhhhh, Harry's got a crush!" she cackled. Harry, was looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Moving on, when are you meeting your guy?" Harry queried, still red.

"Eleven o' clock, I better go and do Snape and McGonagall's essays now," Hermione replied, standing, with her last piece of toast in her hand. "See you, Harry," she called, as she walked out. She smiled slightly on the way, despite her current feelings.

So, Ginny and Harry?

Walking down to Hogsmeade brought greater waves, of not only anger at Ginny, but fear at her date to Hermione's mind. What if he's someone I know; I'll never live it down; or what if he's a Slytherin! Oh God, no, even Ginny wouldn't do something that stupid, but if she did, I swear, I'll KILL her!

Hermione, unbeknownst to herself, was shaking quite a bit.

"Feeling nervous?" smirked Ron, with a deliberate dig. Hermione snapped, "Sod off, Ronald." Ron gaped at her like a goldfish, looking like one as well; with his overly bright orange Chudley Canon's hat on. Hermione smiled in a self-satisfied sort of way; both of them had been enjoying her pain a little too much for her liking.

"What?" she asked innocently, at Harry and Ron's looks.

"Nothing," Harry muttered with a small laugh, while Ron looked very pleased and mumbled something about,

"Loosening up."

By now Hermione was in the nervous state of her anger, and was trying to calm herself as she, Harry, and Ron entered Hogsmeade.

Deep breaths, slow, even breathing, that's it…

"We'll see you later," said Harry, pulling Ron over to Zonko's.

Hermione paused outside the door, nervously straightening her purple cloak before walking in. Ginny had said in the letter that the person would have black hair and a blue sweatshirt on.

Hermione looked round,

Her eyes landed on the corner,

Her eyebrows shot into her hair,

She froze….

Oooohhhh, she was so going to kill Ginny.

She made her way over to the corner, fear taking her.

The person looked round, saw her, and raised a hand in greeting.

Hermione cringed, he wasn't a Hufflepuff at least; she tried to reason.

Trying to look normal; she smiled as she approached the corner table in the friendly pub. The young man stood up; he was tall, dark, and rather handsome, with astonishingly blue eyes; not dissimilar to Dumbledore's; and curly black hair. She didn't think she recognised him, but also had a niggling feeling she did. However, his scarf blew all of this out of the window.

It was green and silver, shit! When she reached the table, she extended her hand.

"I'm Hermione," she said with a forced smile. The young man raised an eyebrow.

"I know," he said simply. He plucked her hand from mid-air and brought it to his lips. "I'm Blaise."

Five minuets and a butterbeer later, Hermione struck up conversation.

"You're in my Arithmancy set, aren't you? Did you understand question seven, from last night's homework?" she queried, in an attempt to get a conversation rolling, he nodded in response.

"I was looking at it for ages; it's actually a simple one, but it looks harder; do you have a copy of OWL Arithmancy?" he queried, sounding quite enthusiastic, as he sipped his coffee. Hermione smiled.

"I ordered it from the bookshop here, I was going to pick it up today," she explained.

"Let's go now, we can go through it on those little tables in the shop" said Blaise, draining his coffee. Hermione smiled and drank the last of her butterbeer. Blaise stood up and lead the way out of the shop. He held the door open for Hermione, who smiled and walked through; only to have a rush of icy wind hit her face. She shivered as Blaise came out after her.

"Don't you have a scarf?" he demanded. Hermione shook her head.

"Here," said Blaise, and with the generosity that women dream of, he untied his Slytherin scarf and tied it round Hermione's neck. She smiled, though felt a little self-conscious with a Slytherin scarf on.

"You'll be cold," she sensibly responded. It was winter, after all.

"I'd rather I was cold, than you," he replied simply, looking anywhere but at her. Hermione blushed and started walking towards the bookshop, Blaise next to her, avoiding her eyes.

Inside Hermione was glowing; he was gentleman-like, kind, and enthusiastic about Arithmancy, her favourite subject. It was all too good to be true; well, it was, in a way; he was a Slytherin, therefore a Pureblood and the war with Voldemort was still raging. Hermione sighed, but reasoned with herself; she was getting all excited and, well, girly over a boy. Had all hell frozen over? Apparently not, she mused, shooting a sideways look at Blaise, who was shivering slightly.

Hermione hadn't noticed, being so wrapped up in her own annoyingly sappy thoughts, that people were staring fixedly at her and Blaise; mainly at the scarf tied around her neck. Hermione sighed, and shoved her nose high in the air, grabbed Blaise's arm and dragged him past Honeydukes, into the bookshop. Once inside, she let go of Blaise and shook some hair out of her eyes, only to find him staring at her.

"What was that all about?" he asked, looking curious and surprised. Hermione tutted, ooh honestly, stupid ignorant boys.

"Did you not notice; that people were staring at us?" she demanded.

Blaise raised an eyebrow at that, in a painfully sexy way.

"Yes, I was aware of the fact," he stated ironically, seemingly completely indifferent.

"Well, er… that's why I dragged you in here," Hermione finished, rather lamely. She was not pleased with herself for being at a loss for words.

"And you honestly care what other people think?" he asked, taking a step towards her. Hermione fumbled, Oh God, what should I say; he's so close.

"I, I-er…" Stuttering like an ignorant schoolgirl; God, this is a disaster; I'll kill Ginny!!!

"Rather ironic, isn't it? Hermione Granger, bookworm extraordinaire, lady who takes 80's hair to a whole new meaning, and you are telling me that you care?" Oh God, he's so right. Wait; did he just call me a lady?

"But no, you don't care what other people think of you, it's me that you're embarrassed of. I'll have you know I wanted to be a Ravenclaw." WHAT! Oh God, too close, I can feel his breath.

"I-I'm not-it's not what you… Oh, damn and bugger it all, you're right, that was so inappropriate of me, I, I don't know why I did-" Blaise was looking slightly mollified at her ramblings, and opened his mouth to speak.

"No, I'm sorry, of course you're going to be embarrassed, being dragged into a blind date with me by Ginny Weasley. It's only natural. I have to go, I've got, er… work, Ancient Runes." He spoke so dejectedly, as he turned around; Hermione was sure she felt her heart break.

"Wait," she cried, putting a hand on his arm, forcibly turning him around. She gasped; he looked heartbroken. Saying, in typical Ron fashion, the first thing that came into her head, she spoke;

"Why did you tell Ginny you would go on this date with me, when she asked you?" Blaise went instantly red and mumbled something under his breath.

"What?" said Hermione blankly.

"I said, she didn't ask me to go out with you, I asked her." He looked highly embarrassed; Hermione gaped.

"You asked Ginny, to get me to go on a date with you?" She said blankly, "Why would you do that?" Blaise went, if at all possible, even redder.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked in a pained voice. Hermione shook her head; she honestly had no idea why.

"For someone so smart, you really are being incredibly stupid." And with that he walked out the door, leaving Hermione gaping.

Suddenly it hit her; wait, Blaise Zabini fancies me? And, he got Ginny to ask me out? My live is officially a soap opera. And, without further thought Hermione tore out of the door, the wind, and now snow, hitting her in a rush as she looked wildly around for Blaise, who was just short of Zonko's. She ran like she never had before, past students, a gang of dwarves, and Hagrid. She caught up with him outside of Zonko's and, for the third time in the last half- an-hour, forcibly pulled on his arm. Surprise written all over his face, Blaise turned to face her. Hermione froze. She hadn't planned this bit, so, doing the most daring thing of her life, she leaned forward, on her tiptoes, and kissed Blaise Zabini, Slytherin, full on the lips, in front of half of Gryffindor house, who had just walked out of Zonko's.

Time froze. Blaise didn't respond. What if I've totally misjudged this; what if it's a joke on Ginny part, what if- but then Blaise's lips started moving against hers, and every coherent thought flew from her brain, as her cold body went suddenly warm, just from Blaise wrapping his hands round her waist. Not really knowing what to do, Hermione's arms went of their own accord round Blaise's neck. Suddenly, she felt Blaise's tongue open her mouth and slip in. Again, not knowing what to do, she let her own tongue touch his and gently massaged. Hermione wasn't sure if it was she, or him who moaned, but she knew that she needed air, and gently, unwillingly, broke her mouth away from his.

Blaise had the most stupid smile on his face that Hermione had ever seen; and she was sure that she was just the same. She suddenly realised, that there was dead silence all around them. Turning her head, while still wrapped in Blaise's arms, she looked toward Zonko's where Harry, Ron, Ginny; most of the D.A. complete with a load of Slytherins, including Draco Malfoy were standing, mouths agape. Then Hermione did something so un-Hermione like; it shook everyone out of his, or her stupor. She giggled.

More silence. She looked back at Blaise, who apart from looking very lovesick looked mildly surprised as well. Suddenly, he pulled Hermione's arm and dragged her away, laughing from the crowd towards school.

"Well, that was, er-" stuttered Blaise, in a very un-Slytherin like way.

"I'd say it was very sexy," said Hermione, in the best seductive voice she could muster; Blaise was, after all, holding her hand. Laughing at the look on his face, she dragged him across a snowy field, into the Shrieking Shack. Still giggling, she pushed him down onto the sofa and looked at him. Just looked.

Apart from looking surprised, goofy, and very handsome, all the same time, he looked rather scared.

"Er, Hermione, this place is haunted, you know," he said warily, eyeing the walls, as if they were going to jump on him. Hermione grinned even wider.

"That's what you think." She stated, rather smugly. Once again, Blaise gaped at her. With yet another giggle, I have to stop doing that, Hermione plonked herself down on Blaise's lap.

"I can't see any ghosts, Mr Zabini, can you?" she queried, innocently. Blaise mutely shook his head, eyes clouding over.

"So, I suppose," Hermione, continued, "that we'll just have to find some thing else to do in here, rather than chase ghosts." Blaise nodded mutely.

"I agree," he said hastily.

"I knew you would," Hermione replied, leaning in. A second before her lips touched his, he whispered huskily,

"You can keep the scarf." Hermione paused and raised a single eyebrow.

"I planned on keeping it, no matter what you or anyone else had to say." And, with that, their lips met.