Fic: The First Time - BZ/HG - PG Title: The First Time Author: Elfflame Pairing: Blaise/Hermione Rating: PG A/N: A fic for Millieweasley’s first LJ Anniversary. Millie asked for: *First time Sirius realises his gay and have the hots for Remus *First time sex Hermione/Percy - plus if one of them (coughPercycough) is a virgin. *First kiss Hermione/Blaise
The first time he ever saw her was in the crowd at Hogsmeade station. She was pushy and rude, and he’d wanted to snarl at her to keep her hands to herself when she’d caught his arm stumbling over another student’s feet.
His arm had tingled from her touch all week.
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The first time he’d spoken to her had been in third year. He’d known who and what she was by then. Draco talked all about her and her two best friends in the common room all the time. He knew she had dirty blood, and that she was a know-it-all.
But he’d had no choice. Professor Vector had teamed them up together in Arithmancy, and though Draco snarled at her before moving across the room to work with Boot, Blaise had decided right then that he was just going to treat her as any other partner. This would affect his grade, and he wasn’t about to let animosity drag that down.
He’d been surprised at just how smart she was. Before, he’d only heard her answers in class—too smug, too perfect, always right from the book. But her intelligence really went beyond that. She knew how and where to look for information. And she knew how to use that information to her advantage.
They’d gotten the highest grade in the class.
Draco hadn’t spoken to him after that for weeks.
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The first time he realized he might feel something for her was in fourth year, on the night of the Yule ball. He had seen her, dressed in blue, hair done up just so, on the arm of Viktor Krum, and the swooping sick feeling it had given him had left him watching her all night.
He had thought about going to ask her for a dance once or twice that night, but between Krum, Draco and his other Slytherin friends, and her own Gryffindor friends, he knew it would never happen.
He’d left before the final song was over.
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The first time he kissed Hermione Jane Granger, she didn’t even know who he was.
It wasn’t because she didn’t remember him. It was because he’d been polyjuiced to look like Ron Weasley. He’d been sent to spy on the trio to discover if Potter knew about the Horcruxes.
Weasley had been the only option available, having been caught only the night before. He wasn’t supposed to be there long, but when she’d seen him, the surprise and utter joy she had shown had distracted him from his duties. She’d stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, but he’d turned his head—she was so tiny in this body—scooped her into his arms, and kissed her passionately.
When he’d released her, she’d stumbled away from him, looking shocked beyond words.
“Ron?”
“What, Hermione?” he’d asked, worried, though his face never showed it.
“Why… What’s gotten into you?”
“Didn’t you like it?”
“Yes, but…” She swallowed and looked at the floor, and Blaise had wanted to kick himself. He’d assumed they were dating. Was Weasley really that stupid?
“But what, Hermione? I like you. A lot. Why shouldn’t I?”
She looked at him wide-eyed for a moment, her mouth open, then turned and hurried from the room. He’d kicked himself for that.
When he returned with the information he had, and found that Weasley had been killed in his absence, that was when he really began to plan.
♥♥♥
The first time Blaise faced her as a free man, he was sure she would slam the door in his face.
It had been five years since Weasley’s death. Blaise had defected, but his information had not been enough to keep him entirely from Azkaban. The three years he had spent there had been the worst of his life. Draco’s shrieks as his father had been led to the Dementor’s chambers for the murders he had committed—which included Blaise’s own testimony about Weasley—would ring in his ears forever. If he had any hope of redemption, it would be with her. If she would accept him, knowing now what she knew.
She had looked at him for a moment that stretched out, fragile as spun sugar and more brittle than glass. He could see the calculation in her eyes, the arithmetical equation of what had happened that night in the Order’s headquarters. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, but friendly. “Hello, Blaise.”
His heartbeat had sped up at that. “Hermione.”
“Did you want to come in?”
Forever. Always. “Yes, if I could.”
“Of course.” Her smile warmed him, and for the first time, he thought he might have a future.