Okay, so it's been *gasp* two years. I decided to combine chapters and change everything around. I hope you loyal followers enjoy. I'll update (hopefully) soon.

It had been two years today since Blaise Zabini and Ginny Weasley started dating. It was one year ago exactly that they said the three words that would change their relationship forever: "I love you." And today, today something else was going to happen. Ginny knew it. She knew what was going to happen. It wasn't going to be pretty. Blaise Zabini had been cheating on her with Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw beauty. Ginny had caught them together, in her bed. HER BED! Blaise had denied it. Cho hadn't.

Ginny had believed Cho, not the man she had come to love and respect.

Ginny still believed Cho; she would believe Cho no matter what, because Ginny believed her own eyes – they hadn't failed her yet, and Ginny doubted any possibility that they had. She did not want to believe it – but she sat on her couch and steeled herself for the imminent arrival of her boyfriend.

Today when Blaise came around to her door to wish her "happy anniversary," the redhead was going to shove his flowers and his chocolate back in his face and tell him to get back to his whore. It was her last choice; don't you see? She had to hurt him to protect herself. Yes, it was selfish, she knew that. Nevertheless, do you think she really wanted to cry herself asleep every night he wasn't there? She would miss him, miss his easy smile and the nights he comforted her over her fights with Hermione. Even those sad, far-off looks on his face as he recalled the things he had to do in the war, the friends they had lost. To him, the wounds were still fresh. To her, they would never heal, not for either of them. She would miss the nights where they took comfort in each other; the rustle of satin sheets and the silken feeling of his skin against hers. She would miss the whispered words, and she would always love him.

But he had hurt her; he had destroyed her worse than when she heard that Hermione was going to become a Malfoy even after what the blonde pig had done to her the week before the final battle. He had hurt her worse than Malfoy had hurt him when the couple heard what Draco – no, Malfoy - had done. It had hurt worse than when the two pairs of once friends had decided to part ways.

She had kicked him out of her flat, but now, he would be coming back. He had tried before, but she had requested time to think, refusing even to listen to him, that rich tenor voice he had still affecting her in ways that Ginny would never let him know. This was way worse than when he was forced by his family to take the Mark (although she knew that part of him was driven to it, that subconscious tickle, the need for power that all Slytherins essentially craved). This was way worse than anything: a betrayal of a different sort.

There was a knock on her door. It was him; it had to be.

She steeled herself, looking with rapt attention at the door.

Ginny opened it, a mixture of fury, hurt, and regret flitting unreadable across her features.

Before he even had a chance to speak, she said it. "Blaise, we're through." He looked at her with confused eyes. Those eyes…they had been one of the things she had fallen in love with. They were a deep, sparkling blue. Although he was kind, his eyes always held the mysterious things of curiosity, mischievousness, and a hint of his darker side: the part of him that wanted to join the Dark.

The Mark hadn't been long, and he hadn't liked it. When Harry finally defeated Voldemort, Blaise and Ginny had celebrated together. It was the time of their lives; they had the time of their lives. Shortly afterward, they had said the three words to each other: "I love you." They had comforted Hermione together after they found out Draco's initiation task had been to rape her; after they found out she was pregnant. Even though they knew it was a necessity, they had broken ties with Draco Malfoy even when Hermione had forgiven him. Even when Hermione had willingly entered into a tense relationship with him for the benefit of their unborn child – the arguments between Ginny and Hermione had been enough to split the two apart for what Ginny thought would be forever. She had Blaise, though – and Blaise helped her through it. Blaise showed her the time of her life in Italy, and she had taught him what she knew of Muggle technology. Hermione was soon forgotten in their happiness.

That was then; this was now. It wouldn't do for Ginny to dwell on the happy memories of the past; not when she was breaking up with him. Blaise asked incredulously, "What?" It was like he hadn't heard her words, or that he didn't understand them.

She took a deep breath, and narrowed her eyes to keep the tears from falling: "Blaise. We're. Through." Her hand moved to shut the door, and he spoke again just before it closed.

"Ginny! Wait!"

"No, Blaise." The door slammed in his face as she sunk to the floor, back against the door and let herself cry the tears that she had held in. It shouldn't have been like this…they were perfect together. She should be happy that he was gone from her life…but instead, she was distraught.

On the other side of the door, Blaise was shocked, too shocked for tears. This wasn't right. He knew it. And he knew that she knew it.

Blaise couldn't believe it; she had broken up with him. On their anniversary, even, Ginny had said the three worst words he could ever think of: "Blaise. We're. Through." His heart hurt. His beautiful red head hadn't even given him a chance.

He slowly stood up and turned to face the door. One hand drifted to the pocket where his gift to her was. Painstakingly, he bent over and set a black and silver velvet box on her porch.

It was still their anniversary, and he still loved her. If only she could return the affection, then all would be well in the ways of the world. Maybe he could've easily made this an anniversary for a third event, an event involving the diamond ring in that velvet box.

Alas, he made a terrible mistake and she had now called him on it. Blaise had very obviously broken her heart. If only she knew the whole story, if only she would have listened to him over Cho Chang, polyjuice potion extraordinaire. But his one love was a girl: stubborn and obstinate. Ginny wouldn't believe him anymore than she would believe Draco Malfoy.

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As soon as Ginny heard the telltale POP of someone disapparating, she stood up and re-opened her front door. He really is gone, she thought, and I doubt he'll ever take me back even if I asked. Relief washed over her- she must not have broken his heart too bad. Otherwise, he would still be here.

She felt better, at least by a little bit, until of course, she saw the black velvet box at her feet. Ginny stooped and picked it up. As soon as she flipped the lid to it, she started crying again. She felt as if she could never stop crying.

For inside the box was a diamond ring, set in white gold. Tiny emeralds and rubies surrounded the diamond. It was absolutely beautiful. On the inside, etched in elegant letters, the words "asking for your hand in holy matrimony" were engraved, and she could not help but suppress a half-quirked smile and a shaky chuckle. That's what he – the ferret – had said on the day that Blaise had asked her out. Another tear trickled down her cheek.

Carefully she took it out and placed on her ring finger. To herself more than anyone, she whispered, "Yes, Blaise. I would've said yes, once upon a time."

He heard her; he hadn't apparated too far- just behind the bushes that hugged her house. Out of sight, he found that he could still hear every word she said.

When she had spoken, his heart lifted. Maybe still yet, there could be a happy ending for his dismal fairy tale, an ending where all his dreams – the good ones, not the nightmares – came true; an ending where the love of his life forgave him; one where the red-headed, hot-tempered woman that he knew he could never forget would be his – and he hers – forever.

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Hermione,

I broke up with him. Unfortunately, I don't think I did the right thing. I think it affected me just as much as it did him. And Hermione…

He was going to ask me to marry him. He still gave me the ring…it's beautiful. Absolutely stunning. But Hermione…

I need your help…please…Damage control is most definitely needed. For me…and for him. I messed things up bad this time; we messed things up with you and Draco. I know you still probably hate me for calling you the stupidest know-it-all I'd ever met, but Hermione, please?

Help?

Love,

Ginny

PS. You can hex me all you want for my cowardice and my stubborn refusal to forgive him for what he did to you. Tell him I'm sorry, too – I mean it, even if you don't want to see me.

She sealed the letter safely in an envelope and gave it to Pig to deliver. "This is for Hermione, Pig," she said before letting him fly out the window. She hoped Hermione would forgive her for this; she hoped that the intelligent girl would see through Ginny's own selfishness and hot temper. Hermione knew – and was probably the only person to understand – Ginny's way of holding grudges. Perhaps this between Blaise and Ginny would bring the friends together again, like they had once.

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Hermione was at the Ministry, trying to get HELF (house elf liberation front- the new and improved version of SPEW) passed as a law when a flying missile hit her in the back of the head. She turned, and shook her head. "Oh Pig…" She had not seen the owl in over a year, and was surprised at his uncommonly low mood.

Detaching the letter and giving the miniscule owl a slight pat on the head before he took off again and zoomed around the room, she sighed. It was from Ginny, and the envelope was tear-splattered. Peeling back the seal, she took out the equally tear-splattered letter and read it.

"Poor Ginny. Poor Blaise. Wait. Poor me! Those two seem to insist upon driving me insane with all their drama, even after we haven't talked since Draco!" Hermione muttered as she quickly scribbled a note to Ginny saying to come to her house later that evening. "But I suppose I must help. I'm actually quite surprised that she didn't add an 'or else' as a P.S."

Draco Malfoy stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "What's going on, love?" he asked – still smelling of smoke and Floo powder.

"Ginny and Blaise, after all these months," she sighed and turned around in his arms to face him. "And what are you doing here! You're supposed to be at home watching the baby!"

"He wanted to come see the ministry. I brought him with me," Draco explained, nodding his head to the carrier that sat near the fire-place. Hermione smiled as her little boy inspected her office; he was only a few months old but already growing fast. Little Sebastian was inherently curious about the world he was in – what appeared to be the only thing the tyke had inherited from her. Everything else – from the blonde wisps of hair on his head to the strong chin in his baby face – was Draco's.

"Ginny's coming over tonight…she broke up with Blaise and feels terrible about it. It seems that we are the only people she can turn to. And she apologized for the way she treated us."

Draco rolled his eyes and chuckled. "So it's her fault that Blaise is sitting drunk in our flat? Not that I blame him – he loved her for decades. Never would stop going on about the 'bloody Gryffindor chit' after she was the one that sealed the Quidditch Cup for your bloody house."

Hermione gasped and moved away from the blonde towards her desk. This evening wasn't going to be pretty for them; she quickly scribbled a letter to Harry, requesting that he watch over Sebastian for awhile. The magical paper airplane flew upwards to the Auror's headquarters and it was minutes before Harry was in her office picking up the baby, kissing Hermione's cheek, glaring soundly at Draco, and skipping away with the cooing child.

"What are we going to do?" she murmured, sitting down with her head between her hands, trying to hide the fact that her tone was eerily similar to when she told Draco Malfoy (her rapist and at that time, her once-friend) that she was pregnant with her child. It had been understood that his act of violence was one that mitigated repulsion from her, but it also brought forth pity. That day – the day she informed him with a broken yet cool demeanor – she had seen regret, disgust, and anger at himself written across his aquiline features in something abnormally expressive of Draco.

She had steeled herself not to cry, practiced in front of the mirror. "Ferret, I'm pregnant. You're the father," she had said. The shock that was written across his face was obvious – the Order had managed to have both him and Blaise's participation in the Death Eater's leagues pardoned, for both had functioned, much like Severus, as a spy. This – coupled with Hermione's revelation – had made Draco question the justice system.

He couldn't keep his emotions off his face, couldn't stay unreadable.

And his Occlumency would have failed him had Hermione been an accomplished Legilimens, but the truth of it was that he would have welcomed her delving into his mind, had she been able to.

"Gr-Hermione, I'm sorry."

She had stared him down, her lower lip quivering. "You're an arrogant prick to think I would forgive you for what you did," she snapped, her hand jerking up to rest on her still-flat belly. Eyebrows furrowing, her eyes hardened. "I know it was so you can save yourself; I know it was so you wouldn't look bad in front of the others. I KNOW YOU WANTED IT FOR MERLIN'S SAKE!!! You aren't sorry. You could never be sorry. For the life of me, I can't understand why you weren't committed to a life sentence. You, more than anyone other than your father, deserved it!" She had never been privy to the reasons why Draco and Blaise stayed out of prison; well, she knew why Blaise had not been thrown into prison, but Draco had turned on the three friends with an alacrity that she had not believed.

"I was a spy." Those four words were spoken with such intensity that Hermione couldn't doubt them, and her mind, still as sharp as ever even with her anger and repugnance, pieced together the logic. She flashed back to that day – and she remembered the look of utter sadness on his face as he stood at the door to her prison cell only to be wiped away by a classic Malfoy smirk; forward a few days – he had been the one that casually sent a Bombardo at the metal bars of her cell, being careful that no shrapnel hit her, and he had turned his back as she had fled. "Like Blaise. Hermione, I never wanted to, but I had no choice. One of the other initiates would have had to otherwise, and they wouldn't have been nearly as…gentle."

She visibly crumpled. Although she still did not trust him, she had to believe him. And of course, she forgave him. He had gathered her up, still murmuring 'I'm sorry.' It was as if part of her always believed in him, just as part of her always believed in Severus Snape.

"You're thinking of it again, Mia," he said, having come to stand behind her and rest a cool, slender-fingered hand on her left shoulder. "Please don't. The look on your face sickens me, because I'm still trying to forget. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize, love. I had forgiven you before I had even talked to you about Sebastian. But what – pray tell – what in Merlin's name are we going to do? Blaise is drunk, Ginny will be a mess, and they're probably going to get into an informal Wizard's Duel in iour/i flat," she bemoaned, tugging lightly on her hair.

He squeezed her shoulder. "We'll figure something out."