Author's Note I: Be warned of American-ized writing and probable out-of-character-ness. Hopefully it won't detract from the story itself, but if it does, oh well. :-/ Also, I suppose the plot to this story is a bit odd, but it was just begging me to be written. It's not Adventure or Action or anything, so be forewarned of that too.

Now, on with the story!

Title: When Worlds Collide

Summary: Following a detention with Snape, a single choice lands Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini in a world of trouble. Harry/Girl!Blaise. One - Shot.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing save the plot and any new characters. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling, and I didn't write this for a profit, just for fun, :p

"No Potter, three Unicorn hairs!" The irritating, condescending voice once again interrupted Harry's thoughts. "You've only got two, can't you read?"

The sixteen-year-old, media proclaimed "Boy-Who-Lived" growled in frustration.

"I can read perfectly fine Zabini;" He spoke her surname with a hint of disgust, turning his furious gaze to the Slytherin who stood next to him. She had her hands placed snootily on her hips, her black hair, streaked with flecks of silver, framing her face. When she spoke it was with an air of superiority, her nose held high in the air. It annoyed him to no end, yet he couldn't help but realize that with her tie undone, flipped carelessly around her neck, her cloak, which had to be a few sizes too small, hugging her figure very suggestively, and her icy blue eyes blazing with a seemingly ever present passion, she was a well deserving figure of attraction. Though, once you got passed her outer beauty, you were immediately repulsed by the lack of such on her inside. She was, in short, a bitch. "What do you think these glasses are for?"

"Then explain to me why you couldn't see something as clear as that three?" Blaise was pointing to the board on which Snape had written the directions for that day's potion.

Harry glanced up there, for perhaps the hundredth time, and sighed in frustration.

"That is obviously a two!" He was beginning to get angry and had to clench his fists so tightly that he was sure they would begin to bleed at any moment. Though he would never bring any physical malice toward her, the emerald-eyed wizard couldn't help but want to wipe the smart look off of her face. It was crystal clear that she didn't believe herself capable of being wrong, and he was starting to think that he should just give up.

"You moron, Potter! You're going to melt our cauldron or something!" She was seething, and Harry couldn't help a strange sort of pride at being able to affect her in such a way. "I for one won't fail because of your stupidity!" Quite suddenly, she violently shot her hand out, yanking the two pieces of Unicorn hair from his grasp, and, in the process, clawing the skin of his hand.

"Ow, Jesus, Zabini! What's your problem?" He clutched the injured appendage tightly in its twin, where it had begun slowly oozing a bit of deep, scarlet blood.

"Serves you right." The dark haired demon muttered, setting about fixing his "mistakes" in regards to the potion.

The injured boy glared for a moment before setting himself down into his chair with a soft plop, crossing his legs rather lazily and placing his hands behind his head.

"Fine," He muttered. "Do it yourself then."

She rolled her eyes, irises still aflame, and sarcastically replied, "Yes, we've established that."

Harry knew very well that if she ended up being wrong and totally botched their potion, Snape would still end up blaming it on him. He was used to the fact however, and decided it would be a small price to pay for the gloating he would be able to throw at the Slytherin sixth-year.

He watched as she carefully cut up the ingredients, separating them with seeming perfection, making sure each piece was symmetrical to the next. She couldn't afford to screw up. Blaise stirred the parts into the brew expertly, and as it bubbled she held her breath. This was it, the moment of truth. As the potion boiled for a few moments, they both came to the realization that nothing was going to happen. The girl turned a haughty look on her partner.

"See Potter, I told you that it was three!"

He couldn't stand the look on her face, and was even more perplexed at his being incorrect. Perhaps he needed new glasses?

"Right..." He allowed his speech to trail off, not really having anything else to say.

"I'm sure Professor Snape would like to know that you played no part in making this potion." Her eyes flickered evilly; she was obviously enjoying herself.

Harry remained calm; knowing from experience that what she sought was a reaction.

"I don't care, Zabini."

He was correct, as she glowered at him and mumbled something along the lines of, "Sore loser."

That was when it happened.

It began as a soft hissing that quickly got louder. Harry looked around for the noise, wondering what it was but didn't like what he found. The sound was emanating from their cauldron. A quick glance toward Blaise showed that she had reached the same conclusion, and they barely had time for a simultaneous, "Oh sh-" before the whole thing exploded, covering themselves, their desk, and the floor in their immediate vicinity with a sticky, gooey potion.

It took a moment for reality to catch up with the boy, and when he finally sat up, wondering exactly what effects the potion had produced on him, it was to face the gaze of a very irate looking Potions professor.

"Potter." Was the hissed greeting.

Harry thought it wise not to respond.

He heard a groan next to him and a shifting of clothes that allowed him to deduce that Blaise had sufficiently recovered and was currently attempting to get to her feet. Well, to at least sit up.

Snape took a second to fully take in the scene before him before turning his menacing face back at the ebony haired teen, a permanent sneer etched on to it.

"Congratulations, you managed to brew your potion so wrong that it didn't produce any effects. And here I thought you'd be sporting some sort of boils, quite a disappointment." There were some sniggers from the Slytherin side of the classroom that Harry chose to ignore.

"Yea well, you know me, totally inept at potion making." His voice was obviously sarcastic, and it didn't seem to sit well with the elder man who seemed as though he would like to attack his student at any moment.

If looks could kill.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for not following my specific directions and another ten and a detention for your lip."

Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes; he was used to Snape by then. The professor seemed not to notice the lack of respect, as he had turned his own eyes on Blaise.

"And you, Miss Zabini, you will serve detention tonight with Potter." This statement caused several gasps from the crowd. Snape giving a student of his own house detention? Unheard of!

Blaise's expression grew indignant, "But-"

"You will not interrupt me!" Snape seemed angry, a lot angrier than the situation would normally warrant. Harry raised an eyebrow. "You may not have made the mistake yourself, but you should have kept Potter here from making it, and that is final." With that, he turned quickly, robes billowing out behind him, and stormed up to the front of the class. Once there, he added an afterthought. "Oh, do go get yourselves cleaned up."

As Harry stood up, trying to precariously keep his balance on the potion-wet floor, he chanced a glance at Blaise. She was in the exact position as he, and was also holding onto the table for aid. She felt his gaze and caught his eye, anger and hatred burning in hers.

"I detest you, Potter." She glared for a moment, then stalked out of the room, in a cheap imitation of their teacher.

Harry stared for a moment before a lazy grin spread onto his face, and he shook his head gently. He soon left also, but not before muttering, "Oh, believe me, it's mutual."

----

"I can't believe this!" Harry's voice was incredulous, he was fuming. Gryffindors kept giving him dirty looks for losing so many points while the race for the House Cup was so close. On the other hand, various Slytherins kept thanking him and giving him pats on the back. It was quickly becoming irritating.

"At least you didn't get it any worse, mate." Ron consoled. "Knowing Snape, he wouldn't have thought twice about docking sixty points and giving you a month's worth of detentions."

The other Gryffindor boy shook his head dismissively at the red-head, "I know that, what pisses me off is the fact that Zabini's the one who screwed up, and she only got one, measly detention!"

"Well, what do you expect, Harry?" Hermione spoke from Ron's left, her bushy hair shifting as she leant to grab a piece of toast. "She's in his House. After six years you've got to have realized that he favors them."

Harry once again rolled his eyes as he buried his face in his arms, "I know." He grumbled, voice muffled. "But that doesn't mean that I have to accept it."

----

The world was dark as he leaned against the rail of the astronomy tower. The only light came from the few shimmering stars, barely illuminating the blackness.

His eyes, usually so vibrant, were dull and almost lifeless as they instinctively sought the thing he so longed to see.

The Dog Star...Sirius...

He missed his godfather dearly, to the point where he had become familiar with the night sky, if only to see something that bore the same name as the departed man.

Dead...his fault.

The boy shook his head, clearing his mind of such thoughts. They could only lead to more pain.

The truth was that Harry had been deeply affected by the loss, and was not nearly as over it as he liked to appear to be. He felt alone, which he knew was ridiculous, as he had so many friends and a sort of surrogate family at Hogwarts. However, Sirius had been the closest thing he'd ever known to a true father, and the knowledge that, because of one wrong choice, he himself had inadvertently led the man to a premature demise, didn't sit well with him.

"I miss you."

----

The detention had been utterly horrible. By the time it was finished, Harry had decided that he much preferred individual ones. At least then it was only Snape making snide remarks about his shoddy workmanship as he scrubbed the floor...without the aid of magic.

But no, Snivellus had decided that it would be fun for he and Zabini to sit and drink tea, all the while discussing Harry Potter's shortcomings, with the boy himself serving their every whim.

God, he knew the Slytherin would never let him live it down.

Basically, it had been two hours of humiliating, backbreaking labor, much to the sadistic enjoyment of the Head Of House and his student.

So, he was understandably thrilled when Snape finally released them. However, Harry hadn't left without seeing a flicker of something akin to anticipation in the older man's eyes. It was then deduced that he must have been up to something.

That greasy... His mind trailed off. I'll bet he called Filch in or something. It being after hours and all. Harry was slightly miffed at this, but knew he should have suspected something. Snape had been in much too much of a good mood during the detention.

He wandered down the hall alone, hands stuffed in to his robe pockets; head slightly cast down, deep in thought. At least he had gotten rid of that irritating Zabini.

"Potter?" A drawling voice; speak of the Devil.

Harry's eyes clenched tightly and his feet sped up. He ignored the girl.

"Hey, Potter, I'm talking to you!" She sounded indignant, as if she couldn't believe that he'd be walking away from her.

His emerald eyes held a fire as he froze, more than slightly annoyed.

"Leave me alone, Zabini."

The girl rolled her eyes and replied sarcastically, still approaching Harry; "Get me some tea, Potter."

He blushed and dearly wanted to whip out his wand and obliviate that particular memory, but he had never performed the spell and felt quite certain that he'd end up pulling a Lockhart. Thus, the boy sighed and turned around, figuring that it would be better to hear her out than to continue aggravating her.

"What do you want?"

A cold sneer and a malicious glint appeared on her face, "Well, I just thought-"

Clomp.

They stopped, standing stock-still, a sense of dread looming.

Clomp.

Harry's mind clicked as it made the necessary connections, "Filch."

Blaise swore, shaking her silver-highlighted hair wildly as she searched for an avenue of escape. There was none. Well, none save an old broom closet that neither were too keen on entering. The things tended to be rather tiny.

"This is why he told me to go the other way..." It was mumbled, but Harry's ears picked it up, and he had a second of grim satisfaction in knowing he'd been correct.

Now what?

They eyed the closet warily.

Clomp.

"Screw it!" His female companion declared, obviously frustrated. She grabbed tightly to his arm while muttering the unlocking charm. She then threw the door open and shoved him inside before climbing in herself.

----

At once they were both uncomfortable. There hadn't been enough room for Blaise to turn around, so Harry had been forced to reach his arms around her in order to close the door. That had led quickly to stray thoughts that were even more quickly shot down. Not to mention the fact that they were pressed very closely, and tightly, together. Very uncomfortable.

Harry's face burned furiously, he could feel every part of her body pressed against the equivalent on his own. He softly cleared his throat. Random, yes, but he desperately needed something, anything, to take his mind off of the situation. As it was the young wizard's body was having very er, interesting reactions as a result of their proximity. Reactions that he knew she couldn't help but feel...

His musings were cut short buy a harsh jab from Blaise's fingers.

"Don't make any noise." The girl hissed in his ear, head resting on his shoulder, breath tickling his neck. A shiver passed through him.

A now-familiar smirk accentuated her features. He saw her reach her hand in her pocket and whisper silencio before again turning her attention on him, smirk still in place.

"Scared, Potter?" Indeed he was, but it wasn't because of Filch. Harry would have bolted had he been given the chance, but he knew that the old man was waiting just outside the door. "Or is it something else?" She ran her hand gently, slowly along his side. Well, as far as she could.

His dark hair was in his eyes as he took in her body; lithe, a few inches shorter than him. Beautiful.

"Potter?" It was whispered. Blaise was trying to pull as close as she could, they were then cheek-to-cheek.

Harry gulped, her low, seductive voice was certainly not helping his inner battle against his hormones.

The Slytherin shifted once more, this time positioning her face over his. Her eyes were dark with something he uneasily identified as passion, and he could physically do nothing but watch as she leaned closer.

"Harry." She spoke softly, lips playing against his, and the one word changed everything.

For some inexplicable reason, hearing his name slide gracefully off of her tongue made him lose all sense of control. He crushed his lips against hers, harshly and urgently. She responded greedily.

Harry, as they kissed, was well aware of the fact that she was simply using him; he didn't care. In fact, he figured that he was probably using her in turn. Trying to use the young woman to destroy his feelings of loneliness, or at least rid himself of them for as long a period of time as possible. Again, he didn't care.

Blaise pulled away, her eyes filled with a lust he knew was mirrored in his own.

"I want you." She gasped out; they were both short of breath.

Harry simply pulled her closer, kissing her once more, and complied willingly.

----

Harry groaned as he sat by himself in the now-deserted broom closet; shirtless and sleek with sweat. Blaise had left mere moments before, and Filch had long since given up his chase.

Thousands of thoughts ran through the teenager's mind, and sighing, he ran his hand through his hair. A nervous habit.

Most of the things crossing his mind were elusive and stray, but the few that he managed to catch were all pretty much along the same lines: what the heck had just happened?

Of course, he knew perfectly well what had just occurred; every single detail was etched seemingly permanently into his memory. He groaned once more.

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, an easy way to forget his life's troubles, albeit rather shortly. But now...

Truthfully, he wasn't quite sure if he regretted it or not. It had been rather exquisite, though he would most likely never admit that to the girl's face. You know, keeping up appearances and everything.

Harry just hoped that Blaise wouldn't go blabbing about it to the whole school, though he had a sneaking suspicion...Oh well, he'd deal with that if the time came.

So, grabbing his shirt and cloak, feeling uncharacteristically relaxed, he placed the garments on, pushed the door wide open, and made his way back to his dormitory.

----

"Where've you been?" The question came from Ron upon Harry's entering into the Gryffindor common room. The red-headed wizard had been sitting on the couch, crouched over some homework in deep thought, twirling his quill around in his fingers when the Portrait had swung open and Harry had cautiously walked inside. Then, the said student had started, clearly not expecting anyone to have been up so late, but, realizing he was a bit trapped, had reluctantly given in and approached his friend.

"I had detention with Snape, remember?" Harry plopped down on to a large sofa chair next to Ron, closing his eyes in contentment as the material sunk downward, enveloping him in its comforting presence. The other boy raised an eyebrow.

"Shouldn't that have ended an hour ago?" It was more of a statement than a question, and Harry found himself growing increasingly irritated with the conversation. What right did his friend have to question him like that? He bit back an angry retort.

"What can I say? I guess the man likes me too much to let me out on time." His reply was said calmly, though through almost gritted teeth, accompanied with a shrug.

Ron, apparently sensing his best friend's discomfort and annoyance, sighed. He placed his quill onto the piece of parchment and sat back, eyeing Harry seriously.

"Look man, I don't mean to be a nag or nothing, but Hermione and I, we're worried about you. We know...Well, we've seen you coming back from the Astronomy Tower a couple of times. It wasn't that hard to figure out." He gnawed his lip for a moment. "Look, we're both here if you ever need to, you know, talk."

The darker-haired male almost found himself ready to reproach the other at the knowledge that he and Hermione had been spying on him, watching him and where he went. But he quickly dropped the accusation, understanding flooding him, and then felt slightly guilty at his previous thoughts. His friends were worried about him, and he had been doing nothing to quell their notions of his depression. After all, wasn't it true?

Harry leaned forward, looking his long-time pal straight in the eyes, a sense of regret marring the beautiful emerald hue of his own orbs.

"Watching the stars," He slowly, uncertainly revealed. "brings me a sense of comfort, I guess. It's almost as if-as if he's still here, watching over me...protecting me." For his part, Ron didn't interrupt, allowing Harry to go at his own pace. "I know that I've been on edge since Sirius died, but it's been hard. And I know that it would be selfish to think that I'm the only person feeling this. I can only imagine how hurt Professor Lupin is. After all, he knew him a lot longer than I did. But, I needed to work through this on my own, or at least start to." Harry's face slid into a sort of grim smile. "I think I've finally begun to accept it; to heal. I don't know if I'll ever be the same person that I was before, and, truth be told, I'm not sure that I want to be. I've come to understand certain things; certain tasks I must complete." He downcast his eyes as his thoughts turned to the Prophecy. Reluctantly, he raised them once more, fixing his best friend with his gaze. "You and Hermione are my best friends. If I have my way, you always will be, but I need you to promise to let me have some time alone if I need it. Hopefully, I won't need much anymore; things are changing." His mind briefly touched on Blaise, but with a gentle shake of his head, he cleared it. Though their actions were admittedly therapeutic, it was way too confusing. "I hope for the better."

Ron seemed to nod his assent at those words and stood up, gathering his belongings.

"I promise, mate." He said. "But you have to give me your word not let things come between us again." The boy smiled a bit goofily. "If I start acting like a complete jerk, it's your job to bring me back to reality."

The two boys shared a brief laugh before Harry replied, "I promise too, Ron."

The boy nodded once more.

"So, we're good?"

Harry allowed a goofy grin, the same as Ron's previous one, to spread across his face.

"Yea, we're good."

"Alright then," His friend replied, throwing his books and bag under his arms and starting for the stairs. "I'm going to go get some sleep. Class tomorrow, you know? You should come up soon too."

It was Harry's turn to nod as Ron turned and climbed up toward the dormitory, leaving the other boy alone.

He relaxed against the chair once more, allowing it to fold to the contours of his body. He closed his eyes and simply mused.

Things were good with his friends then, something that had been worrying him for a while. He knew that he'd been slightly ignoring them, and had made an honest effort to desist, but familiar faces were often a painful reminder of what he had lost the previous year.

He allowed himself to shake his head, bangs billowing around his eyes, knowing that no good would come from thoughts such as those.

Instead, he turned his thoughts to those foremost on his mind: ones of an attractive young Slytherin. His feelings about her were muddled, confused and huddled deep within him. She confounded him; one moment she was insulting every conceivable thing about him, the next found her kissing him passionately inside a deserted broom closet. He knew though, that he was no better. Had he been asked several days before, he would have had no trouble describing just how much he absolutely despised the sarcastic youth...but now, he wasn't so sure. In that moment, after they had kissed and he had looked deep within her eyes, daring to believe that he could view the depths of her soul, she was the most beautiful, most perfect creature imaginable. And he had wanted nothing more than to be one with her.

Harry knew that the whole thing was utterly ridiculous, yet, for the life of him, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more there. Something lurking there between them. Something that had seemingly been awoken that night, after an especially horrid detention with his least favorite teacher.

The teenaged, befuddled wizard once again shook his head, absently noting that he'd been doing that many times as of late. It was stupid, he decided, what happened between he and Zabini was a one-time thing. And it was certainly not about any hidden feelings. It was simply desire and hormones. He was a lonely teenage boy, she was an attractive teenage girl, and they were stuck in a closet together. What would you expect to happen?

With that thought in mind, Harry made his way up the steps to the sixth year boys' dormitory.

----

Thus time passed quickly, if not rather uneventfully and boringly. The hours faded into days, the days into weeks, and the weeks surely added up to a month.

Everything was relatively normal in that time, the same as before the fateful detention. Harry hung out with his two best friends, laughing and enjoying themselves completely, lightheartedly. It was so much easier without Voldemort or an adventure breathing down your throat.

Harry, by himself, was still growing and coping with his loss. He found himself able to talk about it more and more freely among his friends, and that in and of itself was an immense relief. He was healing, regaining his former personality and life; though he knew that there would always be a hole in his heart for Sirius.

Blaise, for her part, had, as he had expected, immediately returned to her sarcastic, scathing attitude. She threw insults at him at every turn, and he threw his own back. They hadn't said one civil word to each other since that night. To an outside observer it might appear that the two loathed each other, and if anyone had happened to ask, that's surely what they would have said, but Harry knew that, at least for him, something had changed. Something had been born that night, deep within him, as he had speculated sitting on the couch, and he was reluctant to fight it.

He found himself gazing at her at the oddest moments. In the middle of class he would suddenly notice that instead of paying attention to the potion he should have been brewing, or scrawling the notes he should have been taking, he was enraptured with her visage, staring at her figure as she sat bored, or slept, or whatever mundane activity she might have been indulging in.

It was pretty disturbing for the boy to be so caught up in someone like her. Someone who he knew none of his friends would approve of; someone who would be as likely to kill him as to kiss him. But at the same time that sense of danger and being forbidden only made it all the more sweet and tempting. And, no matter how hard he tried, which wasn't particularly hard, he couldn't deny that he was steadily becoming more and more attracted to the young Slytherin.

Oftentimes he would wake up in a cold sweat from a particularly pleasing dream and have to struggle not to run to the abandoned broom closet in an inane hope of finding the young woman.

One such night, Ron awoke and questioned him. It took him a moment to think up a plausible reason, and though he desperately didn't want to lie to one of his best friends, he thought it better to keep his emotions a secret. It really was no one else's business, after all. He simply told the boy that he'd had a dream about Voldemort and Sirius, and Ron pressed no further. Harry felt a sense of guilt at that but dealt with it admirably. It wasn't a total lie, anyway. He had had several dreams like that, but none had come that night.

Thus, the young wizarding prodigy continued to try and valiantly hide his feelings from himself, from Blaise, and from any onlookers who might be wondering what was bothering the Boy - Who - Lived.

----

It was roughly a month after the event that his sub-conscious would not allow him to forget that Harry came upon a strange sight indeed. A sight that surprised him and made his blood boil.

The time was that of lunch, and he had left to head back to the Gryffindor Common Room to retrieve his forgotten Charms book, but he found his path blocked by a group of Slytherins. They all seemed to be gathered around something, and to be having a good old time about it, laughing hysterically.

He easily spotted the shiny, bleached hair and designer dress robes of one Draco Malfoy and wasn't in the least surprised to find that he seemed to be the leader of the raucous band. The boy was standing in the middle of the group, gesticulating wildly, angrily, and speaking vehemently on some subject or another. Harry couldn't hear his rival's words nor did he particularly care what the other boy was saying. In fact, the Gryffindor was about to turn back and head down a different, more seldom used corridor, when he did hear a voice speak. A voice that made his body freeze in its tracks.

"Leave me alone, Malfoy." Harry could tell that the speaker was trying to appear calm and in control, but he could sense an underlying layer of fear in her voice. A slight quivering that was altogether unfamiliar and unassociated with the normally confident individual.

"Blaise." He murmured under his breath. What was going on? What was Malfoy doing to her, his own housemate?

Harry turned around once more, stalking closer to the group and hoping that they wouldn't notice him.

He watched as a sneer slid across the stuck-up boy's face, and the next time he spoke it was loud enough so that Harry was able to understand his words.

"Leave you alone, Mudblood?" The insult was hissed through clenched teeth. "Don't waste your breath. Trust me, you'll need it. I won't let you defile the Slytherin name more than you already have." At this proclamation there were several cheers raised by the house in question. "You don't deserve to live."

Disgusting. Harry thought as the scene unfolded. He was finding it increasingly difficult not to rush in to aid the girl, but he wasn't stupid. The dark-haired youth knew that he was outnumbered, and moreover he knew that Blaise was strong. It would take more than a few choice words from the weasel to scare her completely out of her wits. However, if the argument turned physical, or rather magical, he wasn't going to stand by and let her face Malfoy and his cronies all alone. Thus, he stayed put.

"You won't be so high and mighty forever, Draco." Blaise spat from a position that Harry couldn't exactly triangulate. "You'll fall, the same as your father."

Draco's face suddenly contorted into an expression of rage, and Harry prepared himself to have to jump in and fight, but the other wizard controlled himself remarkably well, better than his rival would have ever suspected. The boy's form, which had quickly tensed up, visibly relaxed and in place of the horrific anger there was a lazy grin.

"Don't worry Mudblood, you'll get yours. I'll see to it. But for now, just think about what I've said. If I were you, I'd get out of here as quickly as possible."

"And if I were you, I'd have killed myself a long time ago!" Harry almost laughed outright at the girl's retort, but settled for a small smirk. On the other hand, Draco seemed to ignore the comment and instead turned around to leave - putting Harry directly in his sights.

Harry stood calmly as the sneering Slytherin approached him. When the boy began to pass him, he simply stared through the gathered crowd, which was watching the scene with almost palpable anxiousness, and at the form of the young girl sitting down and leaning against the castle wall.

When the two wizards were side-by-side Harry heard the Slytherin whisper so that only he could hear, "Stay out of this, Potter. It doesn't concern you. You saw nothing."

He didn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of a reply and as the gathered crowd realized there wasn't going to be any sort of confrontation they were disappointed and began to disperse, so he cautiously approached the seated girl.

Blaise ignored his presence when he arrived next to her, and there was a moment of slightly uncomfortable silence before he took it upon himself to start up a conversation.

"Er-are you alright?"

Suddenly, the female in question's head snapped up, and she glared heatedly at the inquiring Gryffindor.

"I'm fine, Potter. Not that it's any of your concern." Her voice was the all-too-familiar acidic tone, and he flinched slightly as the words burned through him. However, Harry wasn't one to be beaten too easily, as numerous battles with Voldemort had all but proved, and he took the situation in stride. After all, he hadn't exactly been expecting her to be friendly. Niceties and Blaise Zabini simply didn't mix.

"What's going on with Malfoy? I thought you two were all buddy-buddy."

The emerald-eyed boy watched as she diverted her gaze and stared past him at the corridor's wall, the icy gleam never leaving her own fiery orbs.

"Quit the small talk, it doesn't suit you. I'm sure that you heard exactly what's got that weasel so riled up."

Heh.

She knew him too well.

A bit scare really.

"You never told me that you're Muggle-born."

"You never asked."

He raised an eyebrow in question of her words.

"Would have told me if I had?"

She didn't even take a moment to contemplate her answer, "Of course not."

Harry had thought as much.

"Then...?" The boy trailed off, his companion sighed.

"Point taken. Yes, my parents are Muggles. How I got put in Slytherin, I have no idea."

Harry mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'Because you're just as greasy and angry as the rest of them.' But when Blaise responded angrily and demanded to know what he'd said, he simply replied with an indignant and more than slightly frightened "Nothing!"

Oddly enough, they both shared a short chuckle.

The same silence descended, and Harry anxiously cast about for a mutual topic of conversation. His search coming up empty, he relaxed against the wall next to the girl, sliding down into a sitting position.

Abruptly, Blaise leapt to her feet, apparently remembering just whom she was talking to.

"You!" She hissed, jumping around and pointing a finger at him, her silver-streaked hair whipping around her face. "This is all your fault!"

Harry, startled by her sudden and random change in demeanor, felt his mouth fall slightly agape at her accusations. His brain cells struggled to process the new development.

"W-what?" He questioned. "My fault?"

"Yes!" She hollered, beginning to pace in front of him. It was quite a sight, and might have been amusing if the whole thing wasn't so confusing. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have had to write the letters and then-"

"Wait!" Harry interrupted. "What letters? What are you talking about?"

She stopped pacing at his inquisition and turned to face him, her patented glare still adorning her now hard features.

"The letters to my parents that the other Slytherins found! How else did you think they would have found out? Would I have told them?"

Harry proceeded to shake his head, utterly bewildered. He glanced back up at the fuming girl and dared another question.

"What do you mean? What do letters to your parents have anything to do with me?"

What was she talking about?

Blaise herself seemed about to burst from frustration, and Harry wouldn't have found it very surprising if she had started to stomp her foot against the castle floor.

"Well, it's your fault I had to write them!" She replied hotly, only serving to further confound him. "It's your fault I'm pregnant, and it's your fault that-"

Quite suddenly she seemed to realize what she had voiced, and the girl's hand flew up to her mouth, covering it in shock.

Harry however, didn't notice any of this. His mind had gone absolutely blank after Blaise's revelation, only to abruptly begin sending thousands of thoughts careening throughout his brain.

Had she actually just said what he'd thought she'd just said? He could have been mistaken, of course. One couldn't trust one's ears completely, after all. Thus, he decided that he should probably make certain of what she'd spoken before he began jumping to conclusions.

"W-what?"

Ok, so it wasn't a very slick or calm way to question, but it served its purpose.

That seemed to snap the girl back to reality, and her angry glare returned with full power, intensely focused on one Harry Potter.

"You heard what I said, Potter." Her voice was venomous, but he could sense that it was all a front. She was scared, probably more so than she'd ever been before, and he could certainly understand. "I'm having a baby, your baby, and it's all - your - fault!" With that she made to storm off, turning her back on him. However, Harry stood, breaking from his reverie, and calling for her attention. He didn't want to leave the situation like that.

"Wait, Blaise!" She stopped, waiting for him to speak. Harry allowed his voice to soften as he continued. "How long have you known? Were you planning on telling me?"

At that question, the girl whirled on him, and he was surprised to see a few tears flung around while others gently cascaded down her face.

"Would you?" She sobbed out, her voice strained. She was struggling to regain her composure, he could tell, but was failing miserably. The emotional tension between the two of them was rampant. "How was I to know how you'd react? You could have shunned me, and with all this happening, I wouldn't be able to bear it!"

"I wouldn't do that!" He tried to reason. "Blaise, you know me better than that!"

"Do I, Potter?" She replied softly, her voice low. "Do I really?"

Harry stood, shocked still and more than a little taken aback as she flung herself back around and stalked off. He attempted to call out for her once more, but it was for naught. She was long gone.

----

It was several hours later that found Harry wandering aimlessly in the halls of Hogwarts, his mind reeling with the implications of what had been previously revealed. He could still barely believe it and wondered briefly if Blaise had simply said it to scare him, but he knew that that wasn't true. It wouldn't have been like her to lie about something like that; it was more her thing to fling random insults at him, not to fabricate a story of pregnancy. But moreover it was the look in her eyes that belied his false thoughts. That haunted, frightened look that was then forever etched into his memory.

She was scared, he knew, and he was also. Their situation was serious, and he wanted nothing more than to simply remove the happenings of the previous month, to make everything go back to normal. But Harry was realistic, and knew that dwelling on thoughts such as those would in no way help the situation. Besides, in removing that night he knew that he would be losing something that had very much become part of his personality. One of his happiest memories.

But what else could he do?

It was obvious to the youth that Blaise wanted nothing to do with him, but how did he feel about her? It was with a tad bit of reluctance that he allowed himself to admit that he had grown to deeply care about the fiery Slytherin sixth-year. And if he'd had his way, he would have been comforting her instead of delving deep into his own thoughts.

Harry still couldn't believe it; he was going to be a father. A dad. Something that he had been longing for his whole like, but was he ready? There was really no question about that; no, he wasn't. But then that didn't matter, did it? He vowed to himself that he would not allow his child to grow up as he had, without knowing his parents.

However, he knew that in order to fulfill that vow, he would have to reconcile with Blaise. And, in truth, he wanted, needed to see if their relationship could possibly go any further than loathed enemies. As he walked, not really aware of where he was heading, he dared to hope that just maybe they could become something akin to friends, or possibly...something more?

So lost was Harry in his thoughts that he didn't even notice the sudden appearance of another person in the hall; at least not until the said person spoke.

"Well, well, if it isn't little orphan Potter." The voice sneered caustically.

Harry froze and his head snapped up at the mocking words. Inwardly he groaned, he did not want to have to deal with Draco Malfoy then. He had many more important things to do. Thus, the Gryffindor attempted to ignore his Slytherin counterpart, choosing to walk away rather than participate in what would surely be an inevitable fight.

Draco, noticing this, was more than slightly annoyed.

"Scared, Potter? Afraid for yourself, or for you whore?"

And that simple statement changed everything.

The dark-haired teenager's body tensed and he ceased his movement. His emerald-eyes narrowed, and at his sides his fists clenched tightly. Malfoy had not just dared to say that.

Draco, on the other hand, seemed delighted at his rival's reaction.

"What? Did you think we wouldn't find out? Didn't the Mudblood tell you how we stole her letters; how we discovered all of her dirty little secrets? She didn't leave anything out, including the fact that you had screwed her and that you're going to father her bastard child. Or didn't she tell you that part?" The sadistic glee was evident in the boy's features and his words. "I wouldn't be surprised if she hadn't, after all Mudbloods can be so-"

It happened before either wizard could react.

Seemingly instantly Harry's wand was in his hand and pointing directly at Malfoy's face. Without even slowing down to process what he was doing, he shouted the first curse that came into his head: Stupefy.

The glowing red light flung Draco backward through the air for several meters until he landed harshly, crashing against the floor, unconscious.

"Mr. Potter!" Professor Minerva McGonagall's voice shrieked down the expanse of the hall.

Surprised, Harry glanced between the wand in his outstretched hand and Draco's prone form lying on the floor a little ways in front of him.

He blinked.

"Oh sh-"

----

"You can understand Harry, why I am deeply disappointed in you." Dumbledore's grave voice stated, his eyes lacking their usual sparkle. "Mr. Malfoy could have been severely injured. You are lucky that he is merely unconscious and that your actions today will not leave any permanent scars."

Harry fidgeted uncomfortably where he was situated in a seat in front of the Headmaster's desk. After he had been caught hexing the Slytherin boy, Professor McGonagall had immediately taken him to the wise, old wizard but not without giving him a small lecture of her own.

"But Professor," Harry pleaded slightly. "Malfoy provoked me! He was saying-"

Dumbledore interrupted the younger wizard by raising one of his wizened hands.

"I have no doubt that he did provoke you, Harry." Here a grim smile spread across his features. "But unfortunately, that is not sufficient cause to send the boy flying halfway down the corridor." Harry sighed, leaning back in the chair, signifying his own acceptance of his defeat. The Headmaster continued, "I am going to give you a full month's worth of detention beginning after the Christmas holidays. After that, it will be up to Mr. Malfoy and his family as to whether or not they want to file formal charges."

The boy gulped, knowing how the Malfoys utterly despised him, he wouldn't be surprised if they did bring the case up to the authorities.

"However, rest assured that if that does happen, you have my full confidence. I will protect you, Harry." The old man smiled and his eyes gleamed behind his rimmed glasses. "Now though, I don't think it's time to dwell on such thoughts. I believe you have somewhere to be?"

Harry blinked in surprise. Was it possible that the Headmaster could know...? No, it couldn't be, Harry decided with a shake of his head. But then, the Slytherins had known, hadn't they? There was no telling how many people it had spread around to by then. All the more reason that he had to do what he knew he had to do.

"Thank you, sir." Harry replied graciously as he stood. "I do have somewhere I need to be."

As the young wizard turned and exited the office, Dumbledore's eyes sparkled their ever-infuriating sparkle, making him seem like he knew much more than he did.

After all, wasn't it physically impossible to know everything?

----

Harry fingered the old piece of parchment as he sat on his bunk, alone in his dormitory. He pulled his wand gently from his robes and tapped it against the paper.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." He breathed, his voice soft in case anyone was lurking just out of sight. Paranoid maybe, but just because you're paranoid it doesn't mean that they're not after you.

Instantly, lines began to spread from nowhere onto the previously blank parchment, forming a detailed map of the Hogwarts castle. Labeled dots moved randomly around the outlined building, symbolizing the movements of the school's many occupants. However, Harry's eyes were focused on one name in particular: Blaise Zabini.

He checked to make sure she wasn't liable to move anytime soon, she wasn't. Her dot was staying firmly unmoving in a deserted classroom, so he cleared the map and threw his robe on, making his way down to the common room.

----

Several moments later Harry found himself at the door of a seldom-used classroom. His hand reached out, gripping the doorknob, and he briefly closed his eyes and wished himself the best of luck before he shoved the door open.

Inside, the room was dark but not so dark as to inhibit one's vision to such a level that they think themselves blind. The place was completely devoid of any furniture and looked as though it hadn't been used in several years. Thus, it was quite an easy job for Harry to spot Blaise's form as she sat against a wall off to the side. Her eyes had flicked open at his entrance, but upon noting whom the intruder was, she had closed them once again, effectively ignoring him.

He approached her slowly, silently, and seated himself next to her as he had tried to do earlier that day. He half expected the girl to leap up again, but she remained sitting, not even acknowledging his presence.

They stayed like that for several moments, the silence remarkably comfortable, unlike previous ones they'd shared, and it was with a great bit of reluctance that Harry began speaking.

"Blaise," He started. "About before-"

"Look, Potter." She interrupted, surprising the male youth. "I don't want to hear your apologies. Just leave me alone...please?"

Harry gently shook his head at her words, "I can't do that." He replied. "I'm a part of this too, you know?"

"Unfortunately." The girl snorted, causing Harry to smile. That was the old Blaise shining through.

"I never meant to hurt you." The conversation grew serious again. "As hard to believe as that may be."

His companion sighed, "I know that." She stated. "I just got scared, you know? I didn't know how you'd react, how anyone would, really. I started talking to my mother about, she was understanding. Heh, she even kept telling me that I had to tell you, but somehow I could never bring myself to. I guess I kind of regret that now."

"Don't. It doesn't matter now. I just-I just need to be here for you, for our baby."

"Don't be such a man of honor." She declared, a bit angrily. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

Harry took her retort in stride, replying calmly and even going so far as to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. She quickly brushed it off.

"Don't take it like that, Blaise. I care about you, you know that. If I didn't we wouldn't even be in this situation."

Blaise pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, chewing on her bottom lip.

"I know, Potter. But our relationship, it's not something that you can just change in a day, it'll take work."

He nodded his assent; "I'm willing to work at it for our sake, if you are."

Harry watched as she closed her eyes briefly, sorting through the thoughts that were swimming around in her head.

"I-I just don't want to rush things." She stuttered slightly, her voice emotional. "This has already moved way too quickly for my comfort, you know?"

"I know, and honestly I can't help but agree." His voice was soothing as he spoke. "I'm not asking for us to suddenly fall in love or anything like that. I just don't want to fight anymore, Blaise."

"Not fight?" Her reply was one of good-natured humor. "If we suddenly became friends it'd be the talk of Hogwarts. After all, I'm a Slytherin and you're a Gryffindor. It simply doesn't happen." She smiled, though it was the familiar rueful one that had been accentuating many people's faces as of late, the result of knowing her words were true.

"Since when did you start caring what people thought?"

"Good point." Her smile evolved into a generally caring one, one that actually reached her eyes.

"So, are we...friends?"

"Yea...yea, I suppose we are."

----

Approximately Eight Months Later.

It was the middle of Summer, and most normal seventeen year olds would be celebrating their long awaited break from school, but Harry Potter could be considered anything but normal.

He was currently in a hospital room in St. Mungo's, standing beside Blaise Zabini as she lied tiredly in a bed, and holding their newly birthed daughter.

"Everyone's going to be surprised." The young woman whispered, weak. "Their golden-boy with a child? Who would have thought?"

He laughed softly, gently, careful not to wake the child in his arms.

"Let them be. I'm only human, after all."

Silence descended for several moments before the teenaged father carefully handed his daughter to her mother. Blaise held out her arms and accepted the girl with a smile, Harry aiding her in her weakened condition.

"She's beautiful." Blaise voiced quietly, and he nodded in concurrence.

"Just like her mother." The young lover replied as he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, causing the young woman to blush slightly.

"How did we get here?" She asked, looking up from their child and into the emerald-green eyes of her companion who chuckled slightly, shaking his head.

"Truthfully? I've no idea. But I wouldn't trade it for the world."

She nodded, and looked pensive for a minute before bringing up a new topic of conversation.

"I still can't believe you did that to Malfoy."

Harry actually smirked at that, shrugging.

"Hey, he was insulting you and our daughter. I wasn't going to let him get away with it."

"Still, you're lucky he and his mother didn't press charges."

"Nah," He waved the thought off. "They're too scared of me to do that."

The two laughed outright at that comment, images of how Draco had shied away from Harry after he'd awoken, obviously frightened of the other wizard, passing through their minds.

They shared another consensual, comfortable silence, this one slightly longer than the previous one. After several minutes Blaise spoke.

"Everything will be different now, you know?"

"I know, but we'll deal with it. We're a family now, Blaise, and I won't let any harm come to either you or Eve."

Blaise allowed herself to smile at his proclamation, a warm, safe feeling spreading throughout her body.

"We're a family, eh?" She inquired.

"Yea." Was the only reply she received as he bent low to capture her lips with his own. Pulling back, he smiled goofily at her. "I love you, Blaise Zabini."

The warm feeling again.

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, dark box. "I know that this is sort of impromptu, but...uh..." He cleared his throat, blushing. "Will you marry me?" He popped open the box, presenting her with a beautiful, diamond-studded ring. "Not now, of course." He rambled, obviously flustered at his own actions. "I sort of mean eventually, you know? Like maybe after we graduate, or something. But if you don't want to I'll understand. I just-"

She cut him off by freeing one arm from Eve, wrapping it around his body, and using it to pull him closer until she could press a soft kiss against his lips. It was several minutes before they pulled back, breathless, and she could verbally answer him.

"Of course I'll marry you."

His goofy grin returned, and he reached for her hand, sliding the ring onto her finger. Blaise gazed at it for a moment before turning her look on her new fiancée.

"You know," She looked thoughtful for a moment, grinning. "This doesn't mean I like you."

Harry only smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

END.

Author's Note II: Whoo! Finally finished! Took me long enough, I think. I like it, personally, but do you? Is it stupid, boring, and incomprehensible? Are the things I said in the first Author's Note true? Probably, but oh well! :-p Drop me a review and tell me what you thought!