"What're you grinning about?" Pansy Parkinson snapped, storming into his dorm after another fight with Draco. He wiped his grin off and shrugged.

"Nothing," he replied. In truth, he'd been thinking about Weasley. He hadn't seen her in the week it had been since they'd confessed their feelings but it didn't matter. He couldn't stop thinking about her. About how vulnerable she had seemed when she'd opened up to him. About how perfectly gorgeous she was when she'd curled into herself, unsure of what his response would be. Just about how bloody perfect she was in general. There really was nobody who could compare to her.

"Zabini!" He snapped out of his reverie and glanced over at Pansy. She was looking at him, her arms crossed and her lips in a pout.

"Did you hear anything I just said?" she asked petulantly. He shrugged.

"Nah, not really." Suddenly, her lips spread into a coy smile and she walked over to him.

"Oh, I see. You don't want to talk," she said before sliding onto his lap. It had worked plenty of times before to get his head cleared, get her out of his mind. But not this time. Of course, the only difference between now and all the other times was he didn't want to get out of his mind.

"Pansy, no," he said quickly, trying to slide out from underneath her. She slipped her arms around his neck and leaned into his ear.

"You don't mean that," she whispered.

"Yes, I do." She laughed and kissed his neck lightly, trailing to his jaw line.

"Right. You never mean it," she said slyly. He sighed, picked her up by her waist and set her gently on the bed beside him.

"I mean it now."

"Oy, Zabini! What are you doing out here? It's past hours!" Ron Weasley snapped. His Prefect badge sparkled in the firelight and Blaise snorted.

"What are you going to do about it, Weasley? Give me a detention? Report me to Snape? Like I'd care."

"I'll remind you of that when I hear you complaining later. Detention. Now get to your dungeon."

"Is this where I'm supposed to be for detention?" Blaise stirred at the voice but said nothing.

"Uh…excuse me?" He sighed and lifted his head slightly, eyeing the girl with his best glare, blurry-eyed as he was.

"What?"

"Zabini?" He cleared his eyes of sleep and looked at the girl appraisingly.

"Hello, Weasley," he greeted her with a lift of his mouth. "You're looking lovely this evening."

"What are you doing here?" she asked him, completely ignoring the compliment.

"Detention. Three hours. I got caught out late a few times this week." She giggled and sat down beside me.

"Me too," she said. "Four hours."

"Mind if I stick around?" He asked her. She shrugged.

"I don't see why not." They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before she turned to look at him.

"Why haven't you tried to meet me?"

"Are we really going to have this conversation again?"

"And everyday until you give me a reasonable answer," she replied with a grin.

"Why do you think I was out so late these past few days? It's not because I like a lack of sleep. It's because I was hoping I might coincidentally run into you," he answered, a wistful smile on his face. She laughed and nudged him playfully.

"How did you know I wasn't asleep?" He snorted and fixed her with a skeptical expression.

"I didn't. I just hoped." Before she could respond, Draco Malfoy swaggered in and sneered.

"You didn't really think you'd have to serve the detention, did you, Zabini? Come on, I got you out." Blaise glanced at Weasley. He didn't want to leave her but he couldn't very well say no to Draco without good reason.

"Can't. McGonagall said she'd be checking in on the hour," Blaise said on the fly. Draco snorted and looked at him.

"Since when have you cared about McGonagall? Wouldn't you rather be with us than hanging around with this filthy blood traitor?" he cast a disgusted glance at Ginny and turned back to Blaise. A cold fury rushed through his blood, but he kept it carefully at bay.

"Sorry, Draco. I'm just going to serve the bloody detention now instead of an entire Saturday later," he said coldly. Draco's eyes registered a brief moment of shock from the iciness of Blaise's tone but said nothing about it. Instead he just shrugged and looked at the two calculatingly before heading to the door.

"If you please," he said quietly before exiting the room. Blaise let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"I'm sorry. He can be kind of…prejudice, sometimes," Blaise said, apologizing for his closest friend's behavior.

"You think I don't know that? I grew up with him making my life hell. He's an asshole."

"He's not that bad, Weasley. He's just…troubled."

"Doesn't mean he's not an asshole."

"He's not an asshole."

"Yes, he is."

"No, he's not." Ginny sighed and looked away.

"Let's just agree to disagree on this one, okay? Because we obviously know two completely different Draco Malfoys."

"I don't think you really know anything about him, except that his name is Draco Malfoy," Blaise snapped.

"Zabini!"

"Fine. Agree to disagree. Whatever." They sat in silence for a few minutes, him half asleep, her watching him closely.

"Are we gonna be like this forever?" she asked quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"Fighting every time we see each other, after not seeing each other for almost weeks at a time?"

"Merlin, Weasley, I don't know. What do you want me to say? We're going to be together forever and nothing's going to stand in our way and our love will always be true? Because I'm not going to."

"No, Zabini! I just want you to tell me the truth! Do you care enough to at least try to see me? Or to be happy about the fact that we have the next four hours together, alone?"

"I do care. I am happy."

"Luna said you're not a robot. Prove it," she demanded, glaring at him. She was standing above him, rage written across her features. He stood abruptly and grabbed her wrist, pulling him against him, not even a breath of space between the two.

"You want me to prove it?" he whispered, staring straight into her eyes. She nodded slowly. He pressed his lips against hers, hard but sweet. Her arms slipped around his neck and she pressed herself closer to him. His hands gripped her waist tightly, holding on to her as if he'd die from letting go.

She pulled away and leaned her forehead against his, breathing shallow.

"Well?" he asked. She smiled faintly and nodded.

"I believe you."