Title: In which Hermione is the Aggressor

Author: SkoosiePants

The girl was clearly off her rocker.

He’d suspected it before, of course, ever since he’d caught her arguing with her DADA text about the social and economical contributions of vampires – she insisted she’d been talking to herself while correcting what she regarded as inconsistencies in the volume, but Blaise knew what he’d heard. And then there was that incident in second year when she grew a tail and whiskers; although, strictly speaking, that really fell more into a ‘weird’ classification than as proof of her insanity.

He was quite sure of it now, though, as he watched her from the corner of his train compartment. She was hunched down low on the floor, shapely bottom wiggling slightly as she peered out the crack of the door, wand palmed tightly in a fist, humming the theme from Mission Impossible.

He cleared his throat and she yelped, jerking upright and slamming the top of her head into the door handle. Whirling around, she hissed, “Damn it, Zabini, don’t sneak up on a person like that.”

Blaise merely quirked an eyebrow – he hadn’t moved an inch since she’d barged in only moments before.

One hand rubbing her injured skull, she went on more calmly, “Sorry, didn’t notice you there. Merlin, what a morning.” Fiddling with her wand, she gave him a speculative once-over.

“What?” he asked warily. It was always best to act passively when faced with a crazy person.

She smiled slyly. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Nothing with you,” he bit out, a little harsher than he’d meant to. He flinched, waiting for her to snap and stab him with her SPEW button.

Biting her lip, she sat on the edge of the seat across from him. “Seamus fancies himself in love with me.”

Hmmm… Now they were having a heart to heart? Very slowly, so as not to arouse her suspicions, he reached into his knapsack and wrapped his fingers around his wand. “That’s nice, Granger.”

“I can’t see why,” she continued, shifting to look out the window. Light played off her hair, the bushy mass pulled back into an untidy bun and stuck through with two white quills, and he wondered idly if a bird had gotten tangled in there and died.

She sighed and scratched her chin, her nails short and ink stained. “Harry and Ron are all gung ho about it, and Dean locked us in the baggage compartment, but he’s rubbish at locking charms, luckily, and I didn’t want to stun Seamus,” she tripped over her words in a sudden rush, eyes now intent on Blaise, “so I kicked him instead and ran, but he cornered me just down the hall and was all, ‘Oh ho, look what I’ve caught,’ with that charming Irish lilt of his and I know he’d never harm me, but it’s fairly annoying being stalked and I thought that maybe you’d be willing to help?” She took a deep breath and smiled.

Blaise blinked. She was quite pretty when she smiled. He’d thought it a time or to before, of course, but always managed to forget the sentiment within minutes of hearing her say, ‘Oo, oo, pick me professor,’ or, ‘Honestly, Ron, you can’t do it that way,’ or, ‘Ron, were you even paying attention?’ coupled with, ‘You’re going to get us in trouble, Ron,’ and… Come to think of it, if he just got rid of Weasley, she’d be bloody gorgeous, which was just something so completely wrong that he swallowed thickly and blinked again.

Then his brain finally caught up to her runaway diatribe. “You’re asking me out?” he asked, incredulous.

Her smile faltered. “Well, not really. I mean, sort of, but it wouldn’t be real.”

“You want me to fake-go-out-with-you.” He really couldn’t believe he was even considering saying yes. It had massive entertainment appeal, though, and it would certainly piss off Potter and Weasley. “What do I get out this then, besides the ire of the entirety of my House?”

“Erm…” she spread her hands, “what do you want?”

Well, that was a loaded question. What did he want? World domination… a decent cup of coffee - his stomach rumbled and he absently pressed a hand to it - the snack trolley to come by again… his grandfather’s beat-up fedora that was just old enough to look cool. “I’ll think on it and let you know,” he said finally.

“Does that mean you’ll do it?”

He sighed. “You realize this is an incredibly stupid plan that won’t work, right?”

“At this point, I’m too desperate to care.” Her eyes crinkled in disgust. “Seamus put his tongue in my mouth.”

Blaise smirked. “He snogged you.”

“Yes, and it was absolutely vile.” She frowned, muttering, “And here I thought Ron was too slobbery, but let me tell you, he’s got nothing on Seamus.”

“Weasley’s snogged you?” Horrible mental flashes of Weasley drooling all over Granger’s face plagued him… yet another reason to eradicate the red-headed menace.

The door rattled and Granger let out a strangled meep, then lunged across the short isle and landed unceremoniously in Blaise’s lap.

“I haven’t even said yes, Granger,” Blaise protested, automatically curling his fingers around her hips to steady her.

Shaking her head, she quickly slipped her arms about his neck and leaned down to whisper, “I’m taking the matter out of your hands,” before nipping his bottom lip lightly.

He thought he heard the door slide open, but then everything that wasn’t Granger’s mouth on his was pretty much beyond his comprehension. She nibbled and licked and coaxed until there really wasn’t anything he could do but part his lips, wrap his fingers around her nape and urge her closer. No one in that selfsame position could have done otherwise.

When she finally pulled back from him, her mouth red and amber eyes slightly glazed, they were alone again. He was sure everyone on the entire train would know about this little performance before they even reached Hogwarts. He really didn’t think he minded.

“So,” he started, voice husky, “how long do you think we have to pretend to date?”

“A long time,” she breathed, trailing her fingers along his jaw line. “A really long time.”

No, he really didn’t mind at all.

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