"Do we have to go?" Ron whined through the bathroom door. He could hear the faint sound of Hermione spitting before the rush of water followed. The door opened and the look on Hermione's face said more than words could have conveyed.

"Ron, don't start this again. We're going and that's the end of it."

"But Hermione…"

She glared at him over her shoulder as she gathered her coat and purse from where they had neatly been waiting on the chair of their bedroom. "Ron, why do you always throw these fits? It's been two years now. Aren't you ever going to accept this?"

Ron scowled. "I don't want to accept it. It's weird. I still can't figure it out. I mean – none of it makes any sense!"

Hermione sighed and sat down on the chair, her coat laid primly over her lap. "What I can't figure out is why you're having such a hard time. What doesn't make sense to you? Before all this started the two of you… well you were friends weren't you?"

Ron made a face. "I don't know. I suppose. I mean, you might have called it that."

"Well if you didn't call it that, what would you call it then?"

"A truce?" he implored, his face looking slightly hopeful. Hermione huffed her disagreement. Ron scowled again. "All right. Yes, we were friends."

"So the issue came about when he and Harry moved their friendship… to something more?"

"Hermione, do we really have to do this now? We'll be late."

"Eager to go now?"

"No. I just don't want to have this conversation."

"Well we're having it so you might as make yourself comfortable."

Ron threw his hands up in a small sign of defeat and collapsed across the end of the bed. A stern look from his wife had him sitting up to prevent his clothes from getting wrinkled.

"So," Hermione said, returning to the matter at hand in her no nonsense way, "You changed your mind about him once he and Harry became something more." Ron nodded. "Were you jealous?"

Ron watched as his wife struggled not to laugh aloud. Her poorly hidden mirth only encouraged the shades of red that were passing over his face.

"Bloody hell, woman!" he finally managed to choke out. "I married you – hell, I've been in love with you for over half of the years I've known you! No, I wasn't bloody jealous!"

"Well there are more types of jealousy than one, Ronald," Hermione said dryly, her lips curling into a small smile. "Did you think he would become Harry's best friend and Harry wouldn't need you anymore?"

Ron considered this for a moment. "No. I don't think so. Harry and I have been through too much, you know? I mean, I figured that he might end up being closer to Harry – well, I mean the two of them are doing things I would never do with Harry! But… I'll still be Harry's best mate even if I'm not his number one, you know?" Ron rubbed his hand across the base of his neck, lost in thought.

Hermione smiled softly. "So what is it?"

"I… I mean, I know he changed… but… he's still the bloke that made our lives hell for years. I can't let that go. Not completely anyway. What if he changes again and starts treating Harry like shite? I'd have to kill him and then Harry would be all pissed off at me and…"

Hermione sighed. "Let's go, Ron."

Ron looked up in surprise. "But I thought you wanted to talk?"

Hermione walked over and pulled Ron to his feet. As she handed him her coat so he could help her slip it on, she spoke. "I did want to talk. And I do understand what you're saying. That's why I've decided it's time we go… I want you to do me a favour tonight, Ron."

Ron nodded.

"I want you to watch them tonight. Really watch them, okay? Not just look at them, but see them. Can you do that? Please?"

Ron shook his head slowly. "'Mione, love, sometimes you're as barmy as that old bat Trelawney." Hermione huffed and Ron dropped a kiss on her lips.

"All right, all right. I'll watch them. Anything for you love."

"Oh Ron," Hermione sighed as they stepped towards the fireplace and threw in a pinch of green powder.

"Hermione. Ron." The voice of courteousness greeted the couple as stepped out of the grate. Hermione smiled and stepped forward to exchange cheek kisses.

"Malfoy," Ron replied, earning himself an elbow to his side from his wife. Draco overlooked the banter.

"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Harry's got Othello in the backyard. They should be in momentarily. Would either of you care for a drink?"

They both accepted and followed Draco into the dining room where they took seats at the long, ornate table. Hermione caught Ron's eye giving him 'a look' and he remember his mission. Thus, Ron sat back in his chair and watched.

Harry entered the room only moments later, his cheeks stained red from the brisk wind, Othello bounding about as his golden fur shimmered in the candle light of the room. Draco's features softened as soon as Harry moved into his line of sight. His eyes took on a different glow and his sharp angles seemed smoother.

"Hey guys!" Harry greeted cheerfully, moving around the table to first embrace Hermione and then Ron. They exchanged pleasantries while Draco moved about in the background. Harry pulled away and moved to his own seat and Ron's attention shifted to Draco once more.

The regal pose with which he carried himself seemed to settle, making him immediately appear more human and approachable. His gray eyes continuously traveled to Harry. Ron had never noticed before.

Draco pulled Harry's chair out for him, his fingers trailing across Harry's shoulders as he pulled away to move to his own seat. A single ginger eyebrow rose.

Harry passed Draco the bottle of wine and their fingers lingered for a beat longer than necessary, the tiniest hint of a blush creeping over Draco's cheeks as his gaze lifted to meet Harry's.

Dessert was served and Draco looked expectantly at Harry as he pulled the silver cover off the dish. Harry's eyes lit up when he saw the treat obviously prepared for him – his favourite dessert specially shaped to resemble a Snitch whose wings were laid back as though in flight – and Draco's answering smile spoke silently of adoration.

When they retired to the drawing room for coffee, Draco stirred two and a half spoonfuls of sugar and added just a dash of cream to Harry's cup before handing it over. Harry accepted it with a smile as his finger traced down the back of Draco's hand.

During the conversation, which flitted from topic to topic, Draco found as many excuses to touch Harry as Harry found to touch him. Their eyes sought the other's gaze and more than once they finished each other's sentence or spoke the same phrase at the same time.

The only other time Ron had ever experienced this had been with his slightly mad twin brothers - and they had worked at it for years, perfecting the practice so they could perform it with ease.

By the time Ron and Hermione stood to leave, Ron's head was spinning. He faintly remembered walking to the fireplace and reciting his goodbyes. However, he had no problem remembering the scene he witnessed as he glanced over his shoulder, just before stepping into emerald flames.

Draco stood with his back to the fireplace; his entire frame seemingly collapsing into Harry's waiting arms. Ron watched only long enough to see his best mate's arms come up and wrap around the blond, one arm securely around his waist, the other stroking white-blond strands of hair, before he stepped into the fire and headed home.

Hermione was already bustling around the room when Ron began brushing the soot from his clothes. He stood on the rug in front of the hearth, his hand poised above his shoulder mid-brush. Ron stood frozen in place until Hermione noticed and turned to him.

"Ron?"

He blinked and looked up at his wife, dropping his hand. "Harry really loves him, huh?"

"Yes."

"And… Draco really loves Harry?"

"Yes."

"No. Really loves him. Like I love you."

"Yes."

"Okay then."

"Okay then?"

"Yeah. Okay then. Glad I watched."

Hermione shook her head, a bemused smile on her lips. "Oh Ronald," she sighed. Holding her hand out she motioned him towards her. "Come on then. I've got a thing or two more you could watch. Who knows what else you might learn tonight."