I had examined them both carefully, their habits, mannerisms, their quirks, and I had to say, he had a different kind of grace than Draco. Funny, that they were best friends. But while Draco was elegant, cold, and reserved, Blaise was relaxed, loud, and casual. It was funny, really, how they were that close. I suppose they balanced each other out.

I admit, Blaise Zabini had long fascinated me. He was suave and sarcastic and brutally honest. Black tousled curls cover his head in a way that managed to be perfectly messy and slightly sexy. Unlike Draco, he wasn't classically beautiful. Instead, he was the guy you saw cruising down the road in a fabulous car. He was the waiter who winked at you when he asked you what you'd be having. He was ever-single, ever-lusted-after, ever-sexy.

Even for a Slytherin, he managed to be incredibly likeable. It was only the Gryffindors that insisted he was an insufferable git. With all that charm, you'd think he'd be taken. He could have easily gotten any girl in the school. Mysteriously, he remained a bachelor. For a while I even wondered if he was gay (he was incredibly well-dressed, but then again, many children of prestigious families were.) He casually hooked up in broom closets and flirted with whatever girl happened to be nearest, but he never seemed really interested. He puzzled me. I was used to figuring people out quickly and I couldn't quite understand him.

It bothered me that I couldn't figure him out. I took to subtlety observing him. I sat where I could see him in the Great Hall. I made sure I was in the library at the same time as him. I watched him joke around with his friends. Maybe that was why I was the first to notice.

It was around September when it first started. I noticed when Blaise when went easy on Hermione in the usual Gryffindor-Slytherin showdowns, when he cast her sidelong looks in Potions and she blushed, when Hermione caught her breath whenever his name was spoken. I thought it odd that me, Ginny, Weasley runt, would be the only one to pick up on it.

I didn't say a word about it, for a while. I confess that I wanted to see how it progressed. The two of them were fascinating creatures alone, but together, it was like an alternate universe had opened and turned our perfect little boxes upside down. It amused me. It intrigued me.

At a glance, one would say that anyone could figure out Hermione, but she was much more complex than people believed. She had grown quite pretty, in a way, by her lack of caring about her looks. Her skirts were always a little too short, her tops a little too tight, her untamed hair in messy buns. Ron adored her, and I thought she adored him too. Watching her study was like watching art. There was nothing she didn't like to learn, and unlike the Ravenclaws who just swallowed raw information without purpose, she learned useful things as well. She taught me how to charm my eyelashes into curling and a variety of cleaning spells she never seemed to use. She was the top student of her class, and yet, she harbored a romantic side that few knew about. She daydreamed about knights in armor and wrote in a locked diary.

She was one of my few close friends.

We shared a room. She was Head Girl, and had to do the nightly rounds, but I noticed she had started coming in unusually late. Her unkempt hair and flushed faced helped confirmed my suspicions. I once followed her on her rounds. I know I shouldn't have, but I had to know. I caught her in the trophy room in the middle of a passionate kiss with him. They broke the kiss and he whispered something in her ear. She blushedand hit him playfully. They looked happy together.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

I was afraid to confront her about it. But to everyone but me, her actions were getting weirder and weirder. It was November, and Ron was in hysterics. Not hysterics were unusual for him, but he actually had reason to freak out this time. Hermione had begun showing up late for classes, a feat that used to be a travesty. She skipped Tranfiguration three times. She wasn't in the library or the Great Hall at lunch. She rarely spoke to Ron anymore. I knew I had to ask her about it.

I approached her slowly. She was studying in her usual nook in the library. Dusty sunlight poured in through the bay window and she looked serene basking in the warm sun, feet on the table, book resting in her lap. She was startled when I slid into the chair across from her.

"Hello," she said abruptly.

"Hello, Hermione."

There was and awkward pause in the conversation. This was strange for the both of us and we looked around nervously for something to fill the silence.

"What can I do for you, Ginny?"

"Um, you've been acting weird lately, and I was curious as to the cause."

She eyes widened. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said quickly in a high-pitched voice.

"Hermione, I notice things. I watch people, and unless I'm quite mistaken, which I'm not, you're in love. And not with my brother." I let the words flow quickly from my lips. It wasn't normal for me to talk this much, with anyone for that matter.

Hermione let out a giant sigh and shut the book that was still sitting on her lap.

"I knew you would find out. You possibly know more about peoples' personal lives that anyone in the school. And you don't even spy," Hermione said, looking troubled.

I grimaced at the last statement. True, I didn't usually spy. "Care to explain?"

I already knew what was going on, but I needed to hear Hermione's reasons.

"Let me tell you a story," she said. Hermione was straightforward about everything in the world except relationships.

She took a deep breath. "Once upon a time there was a smart girl who had everything going for her. She was smart, not terrible looking, had good friends, and a boyfriend who adored her. But she had a secret. She had a friend that no one knew about. He was incredibly smart and sharp witted. They'd met on a late night walk, and started talking to each other. She didn't tell anyone, because she knew what they would think of her, what they'd think of him. She started looking forward to talking to him. He spiced up her life. She had become complacent, doing the same thing everyday. They'd do silly things like let loose all the owls in the Owlery, or play with the giant squid. He brought back the spontaneity that she'd been missing dreadfully. She confessed one day that she'd never ridden a broomstick and he took her for a midnight ride. That's where he first kissed her. They start sneaking around to accommodate each other. She felt terrible because of her boyfriend, and she even tried to tell the new fellow that, but neither of them cared enough to break the embrace. The truth was that she'd never felt passion like this with her boyfriend, and she wasn't willing to give it up. She started acting stranger and stranger to those around her. And it was worth it. It still is,"

Hermione was near tears at this point. I moved next to her and put my arm around her.

"The worst part is that I love him. A lot. He can be incredibly mean and I still put up with it."

By this point her eyes had grown red and puffy and mascara tears left black trails down her face.

"Ginny, what I am I going to do?"

I considered this question carefully. Family instinct urged me to yell at her for cheating on my brother. That wouldn't do. She was already upset as it was. Hermione had unknowingly put a lot of weight of the situation into my hands. I knew she would heed my advice and that gave me power I was a bit afraid of having. I considered my answer carefully.

"Hermione, you ought to start by breaking up with my brother. I know it will hurt him, but this is hurting him too. Tell him that things aren't the same anymore and your relation ship isn't quite what you're looking for."

She looked up at me like a child hanging on to their mother's every word and nodded slowly. I gathered up her things and took her to the bathroom. Everyone needs a little mothering once in a while.

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

To this day, I 'm not sure what she said, but whatever it was, Ron was devastated. For weeks he wanted to do nothing more that lie in his bed and stare at the clock, ticking away the minutes since he had been happy. He really was a drama queen. Harry and I forced him out of bed every morning, made him eat, and bought him Quidditch magazines. By Christmas he was doing better, but Harry told me he'd confessed that being around Hermione was still painful.

As for Hermione, her disappearances were still frequent and unaccounted for. Unlike Ron, though, she was looking quite well. Her cheeks were pink and healthy and that nervous look fell from her face.

Zabini's behavior was even more joyful that Hermione's, not that anyone in Gryffindor noticed. He seemed to be quite pleased to have Hermione all to himself now. His Slytherin friends though, seemed as concerned with him as Ron, Harry, and I had been with Hermione. This theory was confirmed when I was approached by none other that Draco Malfoy one overcast, January day.

"Uh, hello Ginevra."

I looked up from my book. No one called me that, especially not the Prince of Slytherin.

"Don't you mean 'pathetic Weasley,' or some other derogatory term you're so fond of using in place of my name?" I spat out acidly. I really didn't want to deal with him at that particular moment.

He sighed. "Don't be like that. The war is over, derogatory terms are all good and fun, but it's not quite the same anymore. Anyway, I didn't come to insult you. I came because you always know exactly what's going on."

I eyed him suspiciously. He was right. I watched people, and remained trustworthy enough that people confided in me. I didn't gossip, however. I wasn't about to tell him anything. After all, he could be referring to a number of incidents that I knew of regarding the Slytherins, or his sexual escapades, for that matter "What do you want to know?" I said carefully.

"Do you mind if I sit?"

"Yes."

He sat down next to me anyway. I glared.

"As you probably know, Ginevra-"

"Don't call me that. No one calls me that."

"I like it."

I scowled and he continued. "As I was saying, Ginevra, you've probably noticed the strange behavior of my close friend Blaise Zabini. As policy, Malfoys never worry, but his behavior is yet unexplained, and no one I can think of, except you, perhaps, has been able to explain it."

I shut my book. This was going to be a dense conversation. I studied Malfoy briefly. He was beautiful, in a masculine sense, and I was surprised to see how handsome his face was when not marked with the familiar sneer.

"I'm not sure how to tell you this, Malfoy."

"Please, call me Draco," He smirked. I hated it when he smirked.

"Fine then, Draco, your friend Blaise has entered into a relationship of romantic proportions with my friend Hermione Granger," I stated coolly.

For a moment, Draco looked shocked. He quickly regained composure. For the next few minutes, we sat in the comfortable silence of two people who shared a secret. He seemed to be considering the idea.

I spoke first. "What do you make of it?"

"Are you sure you want the opinion of a Malfoy?"

"Just answer the question, ferret."

"I can't say I'd go for the mudblood. But, if they became public I think they'd be able to break a lot of social barriers left over from the war," he mused. He leaned in and his voice got a little softer. "Maybe even create some inter-house unity. How would you feel about that, Ginevra?"

I seethed. How dare he? Flustered, I shook that idea out of my head. Regardless, he had a good point. The problem was, I knew that Hermione would never go for it. She'd flip out. She did that a lot.

"Fine, you have a point, but we'd never be able to convince them to go public with it," I snapped.

Draco pondered this for a moment and then spoke up in a velvety voice. "I have an idea."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

It was the talk of the entire school, teachers included. The article had been titled "The New Days." Written by a student (or two, maybe), the article entailed the rule-breaking romance that went on between an intelligent, muggle-born witch and the son of one of the most prestigious pureblood families in the wizarding world. Colin Creevey had gotten a lovely picture of Blaise and Hermione kissing (he was happy, he got a lovely internship as well), and the article graced the front page of the Daily Prophet.

The best part was that they denied nothing. Hermione and Blaise were subtle people, but sometimes you'd see them walking hand-in-hand by the lake, or sitting with each other in the Great Hall. Hermione even confessed to me in secret that she was thankful to whoever had written the article, because it meant she could quit sneaking around. I played along, knowing she'd be torn between gratitude and anger towards me if I told her the truth.

It worked. Not many Gryffindors and Slytherins were too keen on hanging out at first, but slowly, they quit insulting each other in the halls. The real shocker was been Millicent Bullstrode was spotted snogging Neville Longbottom's face off. I was quite impressed by that whole endeavor. After all, these were the new days. New days called for new times, new trends. It was time for us to open our minds. And even if he is a great prat, Draco Malfoy is an excellent kisser.