Hey Everybody! Wow, I got some reviews! Lol I'm super excited about the comments that were given because they made me more excited to write for this story! ^_^ But you guys! I only got three reviews for this chapter. I want to thank my Beta Nicole for being the first person to comment and give a lot of good feedback. I also want to thank SevLOverKat, this Chapter is just for you! Love and Hugs, Enjoy! I hate school so much right now…. why did I choose to take Korean after Japanese? Why did I try to take it at all? It's so hard for me… maybe I should have taken Spanish, or German, or Russian, or maybe tried Chinese since I write Kanji, well anyways just wanted to vent a little. Sorry it took so long, I took a creative writing class so that my writing would get better, but I don't really see the difference, despite the fact that my teacher, specifically told us that he wouldn't take any work that was, fantasy, romance, science-fiction, and that's what I mostly write, so I've had a dousey with doing my homework and ended up adding like 3 more novels to the already 6 that I'm writing and added 3 more to the 16 fanfics that I'm writing and 8 more short stories to my stupidly large amount that I have been trying to finish. Please again enjoy and disregard my whining. ^_^

== (Enjoy) ==

There had been a knock on the door. It was a little rushed and the banging sound almost woke the one and a half year old Kari from her afternoon nap. The babysitter, someone who didn't usually babysit the child, stood up from her comfortable perch on the couch, silencing the Japanese TV show she had been watching while she was waiting for the men to come back and watch their own child. It was odd: when she had come, she had assumed that the black lady who called her to watch the child was the mother. Since the child didn't have any tint in her skin, she had to assume that it was the other woman in the house, the large one who was heavily pregnant with what probably was their second child. What confused her was she wasn't sure who was the daddy. Not that it was really any of her business: she was there to watch Kari.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts as her hand gripped the metal knob on the wood-paneled front door. She unlocked the safety lock because she hated how it completely obscured her from seeing whoever was at the door. She didn't even glance through the lookout, completely disregarding any of the safety tips Neville told her. The Japanese teen opened the door, her black hair tickling the nape of her neck as a sudden wind seemed to gust into the house. The man on the steps was tall, wearing a draping black robe, and his tired eyes looked at her pleadingly. She opened the door fully and looked at him as he shuffled his feet and pushed his greasy black hair back out of his face.

"Does Neville Longbottom live here?"

The girl smiled and nodded yes. She then said: "But he is not here right now sir; I am babysitting his daughter Kari."

"H-his…d-daughter?" Snape said, his hackles rising; his anger was strong, swift, and acidic, burning in the back of his throat. He knew what he now needed to do, and he pulled out his wand. He used it to instantly put the girl to sleep. She fell back and Snape catching her, set her down on the floor and entered the house. He needed to see just what she meant about 'daughter'.

Blaise Zabini wasn't really sure what to do about this situation. Here he was, following some odd girls who entered into his room without his permission, rambling about something or other, down the Slytherin corridors like he was some lost puppy. He hoped that his latent crush (which he was sure was a secret) wasn't being taken advantage of by that cunt of a man named Jorge. He was following these girls giving them his trust, which was something that he didn't do very often. So if his instincts were correct, what he was doing at least wouldn't end up with his death.

He hadn't given his trust to a woman since his last girlfriend, who had betrayed him. She hadn't been a giant girl or one that could physically hurt him. In fact, she had been this little bit of a woman that nestled perfectly into his side. Her head reached the one place she inhabited in his body: his heart. But that was what she hurt the most, what she took and tore into pieces. What she felt was no good, not even for the lowest of the low. Even a mud-blood was too good for the love he gave. It hurt: she would call him names; throw his presents back at him, asking Blaise if he was dumb. She would cry at the drop of a hat for what seemed like no reason; she also played with his emotions as if they were toys. It had been hell for him, but he loved her, so he made the time, and effort to try his best for her. He was never enough, and she always wanted more. She went so far as to cheat on him, telling him that it was his fault that he didn't give her the attention that she needed.

She also claimed that he was also cheating on her more so than she was. They would have big arguments that ended with her telling everyone how bad of a person he was, that he yelled at her and asked her to leave. When in fact she was the one who slapped, punched and scratched him. He stood there, taking all the blows, hoping that it would make her happy, and that this would end it. But it never did, and it continued on for a long time.

Draco had been telling him to leave her, that she was no good. Draco had been the only one other than Pansy who knew and actually believed him when he told them of the altercations that happened between them. But the love he felt for her was real, even though he knew without a doubt that she didn't feel the same.

Then he saw her, with her brown hair bouncing, stretched out over a pale expanse of shoulder, reaching down to the slim waist of a beautiful woman. Her brown eyes sparkling with mirth at something wrong the redhead probably said. The pink lips spreading wide, showcasing teeth bright enough to blind a dementor. Hermione. It wasn't something that happened gradually; he didn't become friends with her and spend time with her and learned to love her.

That wasn't how it happened. One second he was in love with the demon and suddenly his heart felt lighter and it was filled with one person and one person only, Hermione his personal angel. There was no way he was going to tell anyone, especially since Draco acted like a twat and constantly discriminated against Hermione because she was mixed. But also because he was a Slytherin and she was a Gryffindor and they don't mix. He was also sure that the redhead was in love with her and that she loved him back. If he knew anything about love, then he knew he didn't have a chance if her love for Ron was even remotely similar to the feelings that he had for her.

He also had to deal with that thing he called a girlfriend. And he had definitely dealt with her, telling her point blank that he no longer loved her because she was an abusive, she-demon bitch. And that her personality was so horrible that it made her the ugliest person he knew, and he hoped that everything she did, she would get back. He had had abusive girlfriends before because he was attracted to women who asserted themselves; unfortunately, that self-assertion often crossed the line of demanding and angry. He hadn't found the right girl who could assert herself without resorting to violence. He was done with her, that she-demon. Blaise was happy keeping his crush all to himself, savoring it like aging wine, because that's all his love could do: grow old and hopefully become better over time.

The walk from his room to the common room wasn't that long because the girls seemed to be in a hurry to finish their work. What was odd was that he was sure he recognized some of the girls. They seemed to favor some people he knew was sure had recently gone missing and if he was right, and then he was going to help his old friend Draco out to some information.

Hermione was angry. In fact, if she wanted to be absolutely clear about her current emotions, you could say that she was royally pissed.

The one person she was mad at? Herself. How could she have allowed herself to fall under some simple love spell? The great Hermione being manipulated by some old rage-filled bag of dicks like Jorge, like she was some little puppet to be used when needed? She knew why this happened, though. It had been a really simple reason why she allowed this man to come into her life and manipulate her.

It was because she was hurt and she wanted love. She had been in love with Ron for so long and then she noticed how he always brought Krum into his own life. Constantly bringing him into conversations that had nothing to do with the man. She saw the signs that her love wasn't going to be returned. That she was alone in the idea that they would grow old together and have children. That the love that burned in her heart for his was the same in his. But she was wrong. The man she loved fell in love with another man. One that used her to make him jealous, to get his attention and further solidify his placement in his heart.

So when Jorge came into her life with his soft kisses and unrelenting attention, she accepted it with open arms. He was giving her what she always wanted: love. Of course she always wanted it from Ron, the man she thought she loved. Jorge's love protected her bruised and battered pride from the outside world. Too bad it didn't help in protecting her from his own reign of abuse.

She didn't even really see it as abuse. They were little things that he did, so she wouldn't make a big deal out of it. When they got into arguments and he yelled at her, telling her that she wouldn't get anyone better than him, because she was ugly or a mudblood. She pushed it aside because, as soon as she started crying, he would grab her in his arms and tell her how much he loved her. She should have seen the signs that something was wrong because if he loved her, he wouldn't have said it over and over and over again. He wouldn't make her cry and laugh in her face; he would constantly love her, not just when he felt like it.

She was walking through the common room in the main hall, thinking about the real reason she was able to start seeing through Jorge's scheme. It was Blaise Zabini. He was the real reason she was starting to notice that the love Jorge was giving her wasn't really love. She had finally come to her senses and she noticed that Blaise gave her the attention she craved every day, without anyone asking him or telling him to give it. Flowers on her desk, chocolates in her cauldron and sometimes in her potions, he would put sweet letters that brightened her day. They were sweet, small gestures that meant a lot to her, mostly because of the sentimental value attached to them. People didn't give her many gifts without reason, so she was flattered that it happened at all.

However, Hermione noticed that the gifts weren't very specific to her interests. They could have been given to anyone, which was why she had initially thought all of these little gifts were from Jorge. As time went on, he thought of her as less of a human being with a distinct personality; it was insulting to be treated like a shell of a being. Instead, she was a vessel that Jorge put attention into and expected she would be his little marionette. Until she asked Jorge about it, until she asked him why he was signing with the initials of B.Z that Hermione realized it couldn't have been Jorge that gave her the gifts. It wasn't a second later after noticing that one, he wasn't even listening to her enough to hear her question that those initials could only be one boy. One that stood in the back, acting mean and rude to save face. To protect the hurt he felt himself, because he loved someone he thought couldn't love him back. She made her way towards the Slytherin common room because she felt this strange desire to confess her feelings. If Hermione didn't express what she felt to Blaise, she felt like her emotions would overwhelm her, and never disappear to make her life so much more difficult. She was startled to find four girls jogging towards her, with the one boy in the world who could mend her broken heart.

Blaise didn't hesitate on his decision to confess his feelings to Hermione. He loved her and that was that. She needed to know, and he wanted closure on whether or not the feelings were mutual. He had an idea of what he had to do and well…if this wasn't it, at least he would've fulfilled his desire to kiss the woman of his dreams.

Blaise was surprised to see Hermione within the Slytherin common room. She was a Gryffindor without a reason to mingle with Slytherins. She looked a little bit lost, as if she had stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time without a map to direct her anywhere else. When Hermione and Blaise made eye contact, Hermione looked a little calmer.

"What're you doing here?" Blaise asked, keeping his voice even and his curiosity buried deep within himself.

"I've got something important to tell you," she said, her voice solemn and quiet.

"What is it?" Blaise had no idea what she could want from him, but the way she was acting made him so curious that he couldn't hide it any longer.

"I'm in love with you." Hermione's voice was barely audible, but it was firm at the same time. She meant it. Blaise smiled at her confession, and Hermione relaxed, returning Blaise's smile. He expected for her to say that she hated him, and that he should stop trying to be nice to her; for him to stop leaving her gifts and letters. Maybe if he gave all his love to her earlier, she wouldn't want to break his heart because she was happy with Jorge. If Blaise expected that Hermione hated him, it wouldn't hurt as much when she inevitably pushed him away. But that didn't happen, and Blaise let out a sigh of relief.

"I love you too," Blaise responded, overwhelmed with joy that Hermione loved him instead of hating him as Blaise expected. Without thinking, he grabbed her by her face and slanted his lips over hers, pouring all the love he felt for her into it. Her hands climbed up the front of his robes and pulled him deeper into the kiss before wrapping around him backside. His eyes widened before he smiled into their kiss and placed his hands on her butt, gripping the tempting flesh and using it to pull her into his arms her legs wrapping around his large waist.

"How did you know?" she asked, breathless.

"I didn't, but I had someone come and tell me that kissing you was a very serious life or death situation."

A bright light surrounded them and suddenly they were pulled up clasping each other tightly, and it seems like a great hand was cradling them together. Hermione started writhing and screaming in pain. Blaise felt a surge of fear flow through his veins, and they both dropped to the floor with a loud thud. Hermione's painful writhing transformed into screaming and seizing. Blaise could have sworn he heard the crackling of fireworks. The bright light disappeared for the briefest second he ever felt, then reappeared even brighter than before. Blaise was blinded but for a heartbeat's time, he thought he saw chains breaking around Hermione's arms and legs. The blast had been so loud and so bright that many students came out of their rooms to see what the commotion was, and just so happen some of thoes students happen to be Draco, Victor, and Tastumi and Sho.

Tatsumi was the first to see them.


The look on her face went from happy to horror as she turned towards a voice she was sure that she just escaped. Why was life like this?

A/N: I'm sorry! I'm tired and itchy and it's 1 in the morning and I have my zoology 5 class at 8 am so I need to go to sleep otherwise ima be tired as heck and acting loopy, which cant be good because I have work right after class so this is all I'm giving you guys and hopefully I'll take time to update sooner with the next installment. Seriously I need feedback! If this is bad, then say" Hey this is bad… and this is why... yada yada yada…" if this is good the review: This is good, and this is why yada yada yada. If you think that something should happen that I might have forgotten the review and say: hey add this yada yada yada…

Beta's Notes (NickyFox13): Keshia and I worked really hard on this, so feedback is greatly appreciated.