AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here it is; my first non Draco-Ginny story. Or is it? I have not finished it, but I'm having trouble with Draco's character. He just seems to be so troublesome. Indeed I would have kicked him out of the story if he weren't so damn sexy. As for Blaise, I know J.K.Rowling said he was black in the sixth book, but I can't help but think of him as a dark-skinned-and-haired Italian-blooded wizard. I would have changed it to fit with the books, but I had already started writing this before the sixth book. As such, it isn't in correspondence with the sixth book. So, here it is. Work will be sporadic, but I hope to have it finshed soon. I'm also working on the never-ending THR, of which I have only uploaded five chapters so far. So, GlassBroomsticks, this is for you. Enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: not mine if it belongs to J.K.Rowling.

NOTE: title sucks major arse. I decided to upload before I figured out a good one. Suggestions?

Mistaken Liaisons

Chapter One: Bleary Dawn

Blaise Zabini was staring out the window of his room. It was a dark day outside…typical English winter. It had been raining all day and Blaise was beginning to wonder if he'd ever be able to see the sun again through the black clouds hanging ominously in the sky.

He'd never been one for symbolism, but he had the feeling that today was going to be as black as the sky outside. It had started out badly and would most likely continue to get steadily worse until the end of the day.

His roommate had gone out on a date last night and that was the last he'd heard of her. He didn't mind, really…the girl needed to get shagged. But that left him on his own for breakfast this morning and he was utterly depressed by the time he'd shoved the last slimy, improperly-cooked egg down his throat.

Whenever she left, the apartment they shared seemed to dull without her. That darkness, coupled with the burned toast taste in his mouth and the horrible weather outside, made Blaise wish he hadn't woken up this morning.

He glanced around his room; it was rather clean really, except for the clothes everywhere, which he resolved to pick up at the earliest convenience. He had few belongings and didn't find the need to clutter every spare inch of space with mindless sentimental junk like some people did.

His room was tastefully done to his own liking (his roommate had insisted on repainting the crumbling walls). The bed was large and comfortable with forest green sheets. There was a writing desk in the corner and a wardrobe on the far side of the room. All in all, the sparse furbishing in the room was only adding to the lonely misery engulfing him.

He was contemplating hexing himself into a deep sleep when he heard the door to the flat bang open. He literally jumped from his seat; there was only one person with a key to his flat and only one person who banged the doors like that.

He raced from his room eagerly to meet the weary girl who stumbled into the living room. "Hey, Sparky." He grinned, rumpling her short hair. She made an irritated grumbling noise under the mass of hair and shoved him away.

Still stumbling, she made her way over to the sofa and collapsed on it, face-first into the pillows. Blaise was grinning madly as he closed the door. "How was your night?" he asked conversationally, laughing behind his words.

The loud groan of anger his roommate emitted was slightly muffled by the pillow her face was buried in. Blaise tossed himself onto the sofa, disregarding the fact she was already lying on it. He sat on the back of her legs and leaned back. "That good, eh?" he grinned. She lifted her foot and kicked him in the back of the head, face still lost in the pillow.

Rubbing his head, Blaise leaned forward so his face was near hers. "What was wrong with this one?" he asked playfully. "Not enough stamina?" She growled and tried to roll over. It didn't work, as he was still sitting on her legs. So she twisted her torso around to glare at him. "Stay out of my sex life, Zabini." She snarled, eyes heavy with sleep and alcohol.

Blaise frowned. "What happened?" he asked. She usually wasn't this…no that was a lie, she was always this volatile and hot-blooded. But he always liked to know exactly what was making her life hell. It amused him.

She groaned and lay on her back, which was difficult at the weird angle her body was twisted at. Blaise heard her back crack several times. "What didn't happen?" she asked wryly, stretching her arms above her head. "Remind me never to let Pansy set me up with anyone again." She grumbled, kicking Blaise off her. Getting to her feet, she headed to the kitchen and Blaise practically jumped for joy at her mind-reading abilities.

Pulling out eggs and bacon, she pulled her wand from her pocket and flicked it at the stove. Blaise sat himself down at the small table in the centre of his kitchen and watched as she fixed him breakfast.

"So, what was he like?" Blaise asked, beginning one of their common games of 'what was your shag like?'. She sighed. "He was terrific, really. Tall, handsome, well-educated, intelligent, rich, nice, big d-" Blaise held up a hand. "Enough, or I'll be sick." He sneered. She grinned ruefully and went back to stirring eggs…adding bits of onion and green pepper.

"So where did it go bad?" he asked. She shot him a glare and he held up his hands in defence. "Well, apparently he's perfect, so what happened?" He asked. She rolled her eyes, transferring a steaming omelette onto his plate. He started wolfing it down greedily.

"So we were in the middle of shagging, right?" Blaise closed his eyes, not really wanting to hear details while he was eating. "When all of a sudden I realize I haven't been exactly doing much of the shagging…not really interested, right? It then occurs to me that while my body might be getting a bit of a work-out, all my mind was thinking about getting back home and having a nice, steaming hot cuppa." She shrugged, setting a plate of sausage in front of him as he finished his omelette.

"So I told him I'd had a nice time and that he was a terrific guy, but that I was getting married and couldn't ever see him again." She paused for a moment, putting a finger to her mouth as she gave a thoughtful frown. "I don't think he took that too well." She mused.

Blaise rolled his eyes over his sausage link. "Ya fink?" he said around his mouthful. She shrugged, turning back to the sizzling pancakes. Blaise swallowed. "You're not getting married!" She bit into a sausage link, some of the extra grease slipping down her chin. "No…really? Come on, I thought I told you…I've been screwing Goyle for years. We're desperately in love and getting married tomorrow!" she snorted sarcastically, waving the sausage link wearily at him. "Didn't I tell you? You're my maid of honour." She winced suddenly, putting a hand to her forehead. "I need some hangover potion." She grumbled.

Blaise just rolled his eyes and went back to eating. "Remind me the next time I put out an advertisement for a roommate to specifically request they not be mentally unstable." He snorted, taking a sip of strong black coffee.

She scoffed and left the room, pulling her tee off over her head unabashedly. "Ahhh, where's the fun in that?" she asked, tossing her tee onto the living room floor. Blaise sighed and stood, going to clean up after her. "Make sure I also say they need to learn how to pick up after themselves."

She threw her jeans at him.