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Hermione stared at Ginny in the Gryffindor Common Room. “You’re going where?”
“To the Slytherin party.” Ginny heaved a sigh and put her hands on her hips, the movement spreading the loose blazer-like dress over her chest. It was slightly more than Hermione ever wanted to see of her friend. “Did you want to come?”
“To the Slytherin Common room? For a Quidditch party?” Hermione gave her an odd look. “Why in the world would I want to go there ?”
The look Ginny gave her was very pointed. “Uh, maybe because Malfoy will be there? And everyone knows how you feel about him.”
Hermione flushed, her skin turning almost as red as Ginny’s hair. The older girl cleared her throat. “You know what, Gin? Have fun. You look good. Hot. Are you meeting someone there? I mean.”
“No!” The word came out very forceful, almost too forceful. But she looked at herself in the mirror, confirming that she did, in fact, look hot, and scurried out the door.
More than a few people were making their way toward the Slytherin dormitories. When the school reopened after the war, the Houses were still in effect, but the harsh lines that kept them apart were not. It was awkward at first, but rivalries became friendlier and students came together despite the color of their ties and robes.
Ginny walked into the snake den and paused just to the left of the door. She’d been here once before, but it was to pass along a note from McGonagall to a younger student. It felt oddly homey, with its dark walls and brown leather furniture. Desks were hidden in alcoves to make more room for the crowd – mostly Slytherin students since they’d won the match earlier, but the other three Houses were represented. She was one of the few Gryffindor students; most weren’t up to partying after the loss.
A loud laugh caught her attention and she found him easily. He was there, by one of the large windows, wearing slim black trousers and a button-down shirt, the top three buttons undone. He was surrounded by women and men, all vying for his attention. A few of the girls wore tight dresses and short skirts. Ginny couldn’t blame them, not when she was wearing a long blazer as a dress, a belt looped around her waist.
Taking a deep breath, Ginny walked further into the room, and began to make her way toward him. As though he felt her presence, the Quidditch co-captain raised his gaze and caught Ginny’s eyes. One side of his mouth lifted up into a smirk before he ran a tongue over his bottom lip.
Her courage fled and she turned.
There was a plethora of alcohol to choose from at the party. Of all the Heads of House, Sprout and Slughorn were the most lax about their students drinking, so long as they stayed within the castle walls. Ginny’s choice for the night was a smooth ice wine that came from a vineyard owned by the Greengrasses. It was sweet and dangerous.
She was having fun. There was music playing on someone’s old phonograph, everyone was loose and free. Some of the Slytherin players were recounting the day’s game. More than a few students broke off into pairs, disappearing behind stairs and into alcoves lit only by the Black Lake’s underwater creatures.
When her cup was down to an eighth of liquid, she made her way back to the makeshift bar. Earlier, Draco Malfoy was behind it, pouring drinks and creating concoctions as precise and creative as any other potion. Now , he was still behind the bar, but his arm was wrapped around Hermione’s shoulders, holding her close as he poured wine and butterbeer with magic instead.
“Hermione,” Ginny called out her friend’s name with glee. “You made it.”
“Like I gave her a choice, Red,” Draco said with a roll of his eyes. When Hermione frowned up at him, he leaned down and whispered into her ear. Her eyes glazed over slightly and she nodded as her hand drifted to rest at the buckle of Draco’s belt. With a triumphant smile, he raised his eyebrows at Ginny. “What are you having?”
“I’ve got it, Drake.”
Ginny gulped at the voice, suddenly so close to her. It was deep, full of promise, and made her knees a bit weak. She turned and looked over to see him already reaching for the wine she’d been drinking all night. He tipped the bottle over her glass, not noticing - or maybe just not caring - when it splashed on his hand. When her glass was full, he set the bottle back down on the counter. Locking his eyes with Ginny’s, he brought his hand up to his mouth and licked the alcohol from his skin.
Ginny stared. “Th-thanks, Blaise.”
The wine began to affect Ginny, who slid her way onto the makeshift dance floor in the center of the Common Room. Holding her glass above her head, she shimmied her hips between a younger Slytherin, Malcolm Baddock, and Stewart Ackerley from Ravenclaw. They pressed close to her from either side.
From the same bar as earlier, Blaise watched the trio with narrowed eyes. A growl erupted from his throat when Baddock’s hand slid into the opening of that cursed blazer. Theo nudged him in the ribs sharply.
“What?” Blaise spat out.
Theo raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just wondering if you were going to save the poor girl.”
“Doesn’t look like she wants to be saved,” he bit out.
Draco lifted his head from where it was buried in Hermione’s neck. The girl made a noise of annoyance at the sudden loss of sucking at her pulse, but Draco’s arm flexed and she went spineless against him. “To be fair, mate, it looks like she wants to be taken .”
“She does,” Hermione agreed breathlessly. Her hands gripped Draco’s shoulders and both Theo and Blaise looked away from the amorous couple. “Trust me, Blaise. She’ll be happy you sa-saved – Draco! ”
“That’s my cue,” Blaise muttered.
He walked over to the dancing trio, glaring until the two younger men made hasty excuses and left Ginny standing alone. Her brows furrowed until she saw who was left. “Blaise!”
“Come with me?” He held out a hand, silent permission being asked.
“Okay.”
Ginny was crying into Blaise’s shoulder..
When he first led her to one of the corners of the Common Room, Ginny was laughing and telling him how she’d been trying to work up the courage to approach him. He’d raised an eyebrow and said he was willing to receive her (he mentally slapped his forehead at his choice of words).
That was ten minutes ago.
Now, her fingers were twisting in the fabric of his shirt, voice mumbled and halting. He’d taken her glass of wine away from her already and was stroking his palm down her hair, not knowing what else to do.
“It’s so hard,” she said, hiccups interrupting her words. “I’m the only girl, so my brothers think I’m spoiled and get away with everything, but I have to live up to this – is it a reputation? No, I don’t know. My parents think I’m special – and I’m not complaining, I’m not. But it’s like I’m on this pedestal and I’m so scared I’m going to fall.”
“I’m sure that you’re more than –”
“And I know I dated Harry but Merlin, I was just a kid with hero worship and some people will not let it go!”
Blaise patted her on the back a bit awkwardly. “Uh, how is the Boy Wonder?”
As if the nickname of her former boyfriend slash current friend was a bucket of water, Ginny gasped and pulled away abruptly. Her jaw dropped, her eyes widened, and she was horrified.
“Shitonahippogriffamsosorry!”
Blaise couldn’t stop the laugh from erupting but he tightened his arm around Ginny’s shoulders when she made to stand. “It’s okay. You’re fine.” He shrugged. “You’re quite cute, you know.”
“Cute?” Ginny groaned.
But Blaise only smiled. “Just a bit.”
With alcohol-induced tears behind her and liquid courage still running through her veins, Ginny neatly climbed onto Blaise’s lap, looping her arms over his shoulders. He grinned widely at her, teeth gleaming white in the dim corner. His thumbs brushed the drying tracks of tears from beneath her eyes.
“You want a kiss, Firecracker?” He said the new nickname slow, teasing, and Ginny felt flames shoot up her spine. “All you have to do is ask.”
Ginny slid up onto her knees a bit, pushing herself closer to his body. If Blaise’s gaze lowered to stare at the opening of her blazer - that bloody blazer - she said nothing but spread her elbows a bit more so more skin was exposed. Her nails scratched at his scalp, his short hair fuzzy beneath her fingertips.
“Can I steal a kiss?’ she asked coyly.
Before Blaise could kiss her, a couple fell from the hallway toward them, knocking into Ginny. She let out a shriek as she tipped over sideways, her arms slipping away from Blaise, who jerked from the sudden interruption. He managed to catch her beneath her back before she completely fell onto the floor, but not before her wrist slammed against the wall.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going,” Blaise snapped at the couple, who mumbled apologies and ducked back out. Looking at the witch in his arms, Blaise saw Ginny’s face pale even more than her usually light complexion. “Ginny? Are you okay?”
She cradled her hand against her chest. “Ow.”
Ginny groaned and tried to sit up, but a hand on her shoulder made her pause. She blinked and squinted at the bright light of an unfamiliar room, relaxing when the lights dimmed after a murmured spell. She glanced around and noticed the green and grey fabrics around the window, around the bed.
“Oh, no,” she moaned.
“You’re in Astoria’s room.” Ginny turned to see Hermione sitting at the edge of the bed. “How’s your wrist?”
Testing it by rotating it slowly, Ginny nodded. “Fine. Your work?”
“Mmm,” Hermione hummed. “Draco’s, actually. You know he wants to be a Healer?”
“I… I didn’t know that.”
“Not many people do.” Hermione leaned forward and kissed her friend’s forehead. “Blaise is waiting for you outside. He’s worried sick.”
Together, they walked to the closed door. Like Hermione said, Blaise was pacing the hallway, stopping only when he saw the two women. He brushed past Hermione and made to grab Ginny.
“Thanks for helping, Hermione. Thank Draco for me, Hermione. You’re the best, Hermione.”
Blaise stopped short and exhaled loudly. “Sorry, Hermione. Thank you for being so quick about getting us to a more private area and for removing yourself from your boyfriend’s arms long enough to help your friend .”
She brightened and said cheekily, “You’re welcome. I’ll be in Draco’s if you need me.”
Blaise shook his head as she practically skipped away. When he turned back to Ginny, she was mumbling under her breath. “Such an idiot… Shouldn’t have drank so much… Look dumb…”
“Hey, what’s all that about?” Blaise tucked strands of her red hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger against her face. When she said nothing, he leaned down. “Can I still get that kiss later?”
He walked with her through the castle to make sure she was safely ensconced in Gryffindor Tower for the night. Their hands brushed against each other’s as they walked until Ginny finally took hold and slid her fingers in the space between his.
“How are you not even the least bit intoxicated right now?”
Blaise glanced at her and squeezed her hand. “I was holding the same drink all night.”
“What?” She frowned. “But –”
“House rule,” he explained. “Big party where anyone is allowed in? A few of us older students don’t drink in case anything happens. Draco, Theo, and I tend to volunteer.”
“Draco?”
“Yes.” He laughed. “Hermione showing up isn’t the norm, but Daphne stopped drinking soon after we all saw her.”
“Huh.”
They continued to walk in silence, stopping only when they were in front of the new frame of the Fat Lady. She was asleep.
“So… You’re not drunk? You weren’t drunk at all tonight?”
“No.” Blaise turned to face her. His hand moved to the side of her neck. “Not at all.”
“But you told me to ask you to kiss me.”
“That’s right.” A smile played on his lips.
Ginny bit her lip and felt her head being tilted slightly backwards so her face was looking up at Blaise. “Then –”
His mouth was soft and warm, lips pliant and tasting like pumpkin juice. Ginny parted her own mouth, tangled her tongue with his. They stayed there, kissing and holding each other until The Fat Lady woke up and cleared her throat.
The next party was in Hufflepuff’s underground dormitory. They beat Ravenclaw but since Hufflepuff was known to have the wildest parties, it was a packed Common Room.
Ginny was at the edge of another makeshift dance floor. This time, her arms were wound around Blaise’s neck while his was possessive and tight around her waist. He held a pint of ale in his left hand, a drink the two of them were sharing as they danced in the rowdy room.
“Blaise,” she yelled his name, the music still drowning out her voice.
His eyes sparkled down at her. “Yeah, Firecracker?”
“Kiss me,” she demanded with a silly grin.
He moved his hand from her waist to her chin, tipping her face up. “Whenever you want.”
Ginny pulled his head down, smashed her lips against his. Her arms tightened around his neck and if their drink spilled down her back from the way Blaise deepened his hold and the kiss, neither of them noticed. They were lost in each other and the room disappeared from around them.