Author's Note: Written for my best friend's birthday. Rated T just in case, enjoy!
"Hey!" Blaise Zabini called to the trio of Slytherins who formed a semicircle around Ron Weasley. "Back away," he ordered.
Their leader turned with a sneer. "Why should we? He's just a bl-"
"That is enough!" he interrupted fiercely. "This is a new world, gentlemen, where blood status is not important. Deal with it," he ordered. "Now leave, or I will pass your exploits along to our Prefect."
Fierce scowls in place, the trio stalked off. Blaise watched their progress before turning back to Ron. "You okay?"
"Been hurt worse in Quidditch," he replied easily. "Thank you," he said softly.
"You're welcome," the black teen replied with a smile.
"But why did you?"
"Honestly?" The Gryffindor nodded. "I have a thing for redheads."
Ron flushed. "I have to worry about you hitting on my sister?"
"No, and you're not the first person to ask that," he added. He glanced at his companion sidelong, and decided to be completely honest. "It wasn't difficult to deny an attraction to your sister, because the one I truly wanted was you."
"Me?" he parroted, shocked. With a wry smile the Slytherin nodded. "And now?" he asked, unable to keep the hope out of his voice.
"Still you," he replied. The redhead smiled brightly and stepped closer to the Slytherin. "I take it you feel the same?"
"More than I dared let myself think," he replied breathily. Blaise gently tipped his chin up, and dipped his head for a chaste kiss Ron happily returned.