I claim no possession of Harry Potter. In this story, Blaise is male. Edited 7.24.04.

Chapter Three

The time continued to pass in quiet tension, though Ginny wore the possibility of Draco's mutual love about her like a warm cloak. She paid special attention to her appearance before meals, for she knew that he would try to catch her eye.

During one such meal, Draco was attempting to gaze at the subject of his affection with what he though to be a sort of casual elegance.

"It's the Weasley girl, Draco, isn't it?" commented Blaise Zabini, noticing how his best friend seemed to be constantly distracted these days.

"Er...what?" Draco said, wiping the dreamy, thoughtful countenance worthy of Luna Lovegood off of his face.

"The Weasley girl. You've fallen in love with her," drawled Blaise softly.

"Don't talk here," Draco replied as he noticed Millicent Bulstrode, who was a notorious gossip, approaching as she walked towards the library. "Later."

After they finished eating, Draco and Blaise went back to their dungeon Common Room to start on homework. Once settling their textbooks at a table in the corner, Blaise said, "Well, I suppose it's later now."

"Okay." Draco said dully.

"So, what's going on between you and that youngest Weasley, what's her name, Ginny?"

"I...I don't know. I like her, but...I don't know what to do about it."

"Well then, tell her that."

"I couldn't do that. It's tactless, and you have to be subtle about it. My mother didn't teach me manners for nothing, you know."

"Well, good thing your mother has manners, because if your father had not demised so very tragically, he'd kill you for sure. And what about Parkinson?" Pansy Parkinson had been Lucius Malfoy's first choice for his son's future wife. Ah, only among the High Clan was arranged marriage still popular. In the pure-blooded families not in the High Clan, you didn't get that sort of uptight sentiment. Oh, and how the High Clan detested these Muggle-loving families. There were the Macmillans, the Longbottoms, the Weasleys, and several others. While they were not in the majority, the High Clan families still turned their noses up at them. But these tolerant families, they had their priorities straight, realizing that each person had their own individual emotions. And for almost seventeen years, Draco Malfoy had been forced to pretend that the High Clan's priorities were his own. But, he didn't have to put on that same front once his father was removed from the picture. Unfortunately, Pansy had not yet been taken out of it and still believed that Draco was the one she was going to marry after Hogwarts, though Narcissa was trying to negotiate the arrangement.

"Sometime soon, she'll have to realize that I hate everything about her and get on with her life."

"Good to know that you're still a Slytherin," smirked Blaise.

"Oh, shut up," grumbled Draco, throwing a quill at him.

The next day, Ginny was hurrying to Charms when her schoolbag suddenly slipped off of her shoulder, spilling its contents onto the stone castle floor.

"Oh, great, now I'm going to be even later to class," she said to herself as she knelt to gather up her various books and quills.

"Need some help?" asked a voice that was both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Looking up, Ginny saw that it was Draco Malfoy. It was strange to hear him speak in a way that was almost...civil. She hoped that this could only mean something good as she smiled to herself.

"Oh, um, yes, that would be great, thanks." Draco dropped to his knees beside her, and piled up her books neatly.

"Divination, eh?" Draco commented, holding up a copy of Unfogging The Future.

"Yeah. It's a pretty boring class, but Professor Trelawney says that I have a natural gift for the Sight."

"I think my friend Blaise has Cassandra Trelawney's old diary, would you like to borrow it? It might have some things in there that could help you. Or help you to make up prophecies, seeing as the professor probably wouldn't care if your homework was done by you or a toad." Cassandra Trelawney was the great-great-grandmother of the Divination teacher at Hogwarts.

"That's probably true. Sure, I'd love to take a look at it sometime, if you could get it from Blaise for me," Ginny said, laughing as she jammed her bottle of ink back into her bag.

"There, have you got everything?" he asked as they simultaneously straightened up.

"Yeah, thank you for helping me."

"Oh, no, it was nothing. Really."

Suddenly, Pansy Parkinson appeared at Draco's side, throwing a look of disgust at Ginny. "Oh, Draco darling, where have you been?" she simpered, standing on tiptoe to kiss his nose.

Cheeks flaming as brightly as her hair, Ginny ran away from the scene, a tear running down the side of her cheek. She didn't see Draco turn from Pansy's touch. She didn't see Pansy stalk away towards the dungeons, her robes swishing angrily about her ankles. And she certainly didn't see Draco cast one last, longing look at Ginny before giving a sigh, trying to decide the longest route possible to get to Potions class. Hindered by both moving staircases and his own thoughts, it was needless to say that he was very, very late to class.

Interruptions can be very helpful, and then they can ruin your whole day. Or life, thought Draco, pausing in the corridor. Why did Snape have to send Pansy to fetch him? He remembered how Ginny's shining, lustrous hair had been hanging loose in her face as she repacked her schoolbooks. He'd had to firmly squash beneath his heel the urge to tuck it back behind her perfect, shell-shaped ear. But, at least he'd been getting somewhere conversationally with her. There were still months to go before he would have to say farewell to Hogwarts and Ginny. There were still months in which he could possibly go out with her, a girl he hardly knew and had once scorned with the contempt born in his very veins. There were still months with which to start treating her brother, Ron, better than he had before...It would probably be a good idea to get on her family's good side, so as not to create chaos at the wedding. Wait...wedding? Draco decided that he might have been thinking a bit too far ahead and continued walking.

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