Author's note: I wrote this over the summer and unearthed it while cleaning my room. This journal I found under my bed is like a frickin goldmine! I'd forgot all about it. Unfortunately everything in it is unfinished as I have this horrible habit of never finishing what I start. But I really like this one so I am going to finish it! I really am. This is the second chapter, which I added on since last summer. I really couldn't remember where I was going with it so I hope you guys still like it as much as before. And thank you sooo much for your nice comments! I love you all!

Disclaimer: If I owned any of these characters I wouldn't be posting this story here.

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CHAPTER TWO:

Deep breaths Ron, just relax! This is SO not a big deal! Ron thought to himself as he strolled into the library, Hermione's wand poking into his back.

So if this wasn't a big deal, why was his stomach performing an Olympic gymnastics routine?

But before his stomach could complete the triple back flip it had begun to attempt he caught a pair of eyes staring at him. A pair of beautiful, obsidian eyes belonging to a beautiful Italian face, belonging to…

"Over here Weasley," Zabini waved.

This was so not happening! Had he seriously just thought of Blaise Zabini as beautiful? He grimaced, this was happening too often for comfort.

"Hey," Blaise said, once Ron arrived at the table he'd laid his books upon. His expressive face assumed a look of concern, "are you feeling alright?"

"What? Oh yah." Ron blushed, WHY was he so fucking nervious? It's just a guy, a slytherin guy! One who Hermione, his one true love, was in love with. That was it! He was just feeling insecure because he and Zabini were after the same girl.

Or were they? Ron wasn't quite sure anymore.

"So…do you want to work on the Potions assignment?" Blaise asked tenetively.

Ron nodded, and they both pulled out they're notes and textbooks. Ron couldn't help but notice how the words on Zabini's parchment flawlessly swept across the paper while his own were choppy and almost completely illegible. He sighed deeply, and felt his inferiority complex starting up. He pushed it down savagely.

The look of concern reappeared on the other boy's face, "Are you sure you are okay? You seem a little preoccupied."

"Nothing," Ron said, "it's just…" he trailed off helplessly.

"Would you like to talk? I know I'm a Slytherin, and that we only just had our first real conversation on Tuesday, but I like you, and I'm usually pretty good at solving other people's problems," here he grinned," so what's yours?"

"Great" Ron thought through gritted teeth, "so I'm supposed to tell him that the only reason I'm talking to him is because my best friend who, incidentally, I am head over heels for, is in love with you and asked me to talk to you? And that I'm actually starting to enjoy it?"

Blaise sighed, seeing the look on Ron's face, "no worries mate, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, just thought I might be able to help"

"It's complicated…besides, I really have to get this report done." Ron flashed a pleading look to the other boy.

They worked in silence for the most part, with a few questions from Ron and explanations from Blaise. It was going pretty smoothly, ominously smoothly. Ron knew it was too much to hope for, for this to keep up.

"So, what's it like being a Slytherin?" Ron asked.

Blaise looked at Ron strangely, "er…what do you mean? Snape isn't nearly as horrible to us as he is to the rest of the school, but I would assume it's not very different from being in Gryffindor."

Ron looked down. Suddenly feeling embarrassed for asking, "I just meant – what about the people? Like Draco, and Pansy and the rest?"

Blaise laughed humourlessly, "oh that, most of them aren't as bad as people think, mostly because they're always putting up a front acting all pureblood elitist. Which, to tell you the truth, disgusts me, they go around pretending to be people they aren't, and not even better people than they are, it's rather infuriating. Some of them really are arses though. Must be nice being in Gryffindor where everyone's so honorable and shit."

"What?" Ron snorted, "You want to have to deal with everyone always being more courageous and kinder, and more compassionate than you are?"

Blaise just stared.

"Well, that's not actually true, that's just my horrible inferiority complex kicking in, it happens a lot when I'm around people who're better than me, wait…don't tell me you DID want to be in Gryffindor though!" Ron stared at Blaise.

And Blaise stared back, as if trying to decide what to tell him. It seemed he'd come to a decision, "funny that your best mate is the famous Harry Potter than."

"Yeah" Ron shrugged ruefully, mentally noting Blaise had choosen not to answer his Gryffindor question, "you should've seen me in 4th year, when Harry got into the Triwizard Tournament. I was such a prat!"

"hmmm…" was all Blaise said to that.

"yes, well, it's getting kind of late, I should get back to my common room before Pince evicts us from our table," Ron said, standing up.

But as he stood up, he ended up knocking half of his possessions off the table. He cursed his long limbs and bent to scoop then up. Blaise dropped with him.

He was about to get up off his knees but noticed his quill under the bookshelf in front of him. Apparently, Blaise did too though, because they both reached for it at the same time.

Their fingers brushed lightly as both of them reached out and somehow they ended up with their fingers entwined, a slightly bedraggled quill in between them.

It was hard to tell who was blushing more because of the dim lights, but it only lasted for a moment. Blaise let go and stood abruptly; Ron just sat there, dazed until the graceful hand that he'd watched right so many graceful letters was being waved in front of his face.

"Hello? Need help up?" Blaise's voice called from somewhere too far above him.

But Ron didn't think that was the best idea, judging his reaction to grabbing the same pen. He would have to think about this whole thing later.

Ron waved away the offered hand and pushed himself up. "Thanks Blaise, for the help, se you around." Ron was about to flee when Blaise began to speak.

"Ron? I'm going to tell you something I've never told anyone in my life, first of all do you know who my father is?" When Ron shook he head, Blaise continued, "he's the leader of wizarding Mafia, he's the reason why I'm in Slytherin. My dad, he believes in family heritage very much, when the hat sorted me it told me, it told me that I'd be better in Gryffindor, though I don't know why, I'm not brave at all. I had to beg it to put me in Slytherin. It's not that the Slytherins are bad, I like a lot of them very much, I've just never really fit in. but I'm forced to live this life my father wants for me. That's all, in case you were still wondering about the question you asked."

Ron hesitated, should he tell him about Hermione? Was he expected to share a secret of his?Why was Blaise confiding in him of all people? But Blaise, apparently, had had enough of the conversation. Before Ron could pull together a response, Blaise was already leaving

He couldn't help notice how nice Blaise Zabini's arse was as he walked away. He just barely resisted smack his head against the wall, Dobby style, immediately after the thought, but it didn't change the fact that he'd just CHECKED OUT Blaise Zabini's arse.

Suddenly he became very aware of how empty the library was. He looked at his wristwatch and swore; it was already 10:30! He wished vehemently for Harry's cloak. There was no way he would make it back with out being seen.

He looked around desperately, and noticed the finished potions essay belonging to Blaise sitting, forgotten on the table.

"He'll be wanting that," Ron muttered and picked it up, intending to give it to him the next day.

Luck was not with him, he stepped out of the library quietly and cautiously and closed the door as silently as possible only to feel something large and warm crash into him.

Something that looked very much like Blaise Zabini.

Blaise backed away slowly, Ron was sure if there was any light at all in the hallway, the other boy's face would be bright red.

"I'm sorry, I didn't expect you to still be here. I just- I left my essay." He finished helplessly.

Ron felt a bit disoriented seeing the normally smooth and aloof Blaise Zabini flustered and embarrassed. The fact that Blaise had just crushed him into a wall had nothing to do with it he attempted to tell himself.

"You didn't see where I left it did you?" Blaise asked a worried line appeared over his brows.

"Oh yah, I picked it up, as I was leaving, thought you might want it," Ron managed to say without sounding like a complete nimrod. He pulled the parchment out of his bag and handed it to Blaise.

He smiled gratefully, "Thanks Weasley," he turned to leave and Ron was about to follow suit when voices belonging to none other than Professor Snape and Albus Dumbledor, sounded from around the corner.

"Quick!" Ron hissed, "into the broom closet!" he shoved Blaise into the conveniently placed broom closet door and dived in after him just in time.

Ron was completely smushed up against Blaise, but he didn't dare to move, both boys were completely still as the footsteps drew nearer. Ron could feel Blaise's warm breath curl against his neck, and became uncomfortably aware of the situation. He knew if he stayed in this position any longer some…unwanted friends might make themselves known.

But before he could move to the other side of the miniscule closet, the wizards on the other side of the door stopped.

"Albus I've told you time and again, I don't-" came Snape's harried voice cut off by Dumbledor's amused one.

"And I've told you that you don't really have a choice, Severus," Dumbledor chuckled, "I'll even lend you a hand with your ensamble."

"No thank you, the day I take your fashion advice, is the day you willingly eat the cookies Minerva makes you," Snape said with a bit of a smirk in his voice.

When Dumbledor tried to say something, Snape cut him off, "I'm on to you, Albus, I've seen you feed fawkes those atrocities, personally, I think you should be taken to court for cruelty to animals."

Dumbledor snorted, "okay no wardrobe help but just a friendly tip? Wash your hair with something other than olive oil."

Some kind of outraged noise followed, a long with the sound of feet running.

"Wonder what that was about," Blaise whispered in Ron's ear, "who knew that Snape actually had a sense of humour,"

Ron moved away before the feeling of Blaise's body behind him became too much for him to bear, "yah, only Dumbledor would have the nerve to tell the git to wash his hair and not assume he'd get hexed all the way to America," Ron laughed in spite of himself.

"I wonder what Dumbledor wanted Snape to do?" Blaise mused, "ah, well, I should try and get back to my common room before Draco sends out Crabb and Goyle to drag me back, thanks again for getting my essay."

"Sure, see you next class." Ron waved as the boys cautiously opened the door and went their separate ways.

Ron exhaled deeply as he collapsed into a cushy red armchair by the fire, he'd made it back unscathed for the most part, avoiding Peeves and Mrs. Norris by cutting through the hidden passage, behind the unicorn tapestry, on the fourth floor.

He barely had time to catch his breath before he was ambushed by Hermione, who flew at him like a cannon ball, he sighed in frustration. "Funny," he thought wryly, "only last week having Hermione in my lap like this would've made me overjoyed, instead of annoyed."

"So?" Hermione asked excitedly, "What happened? What took you so long? Did you find out if he likes me?"

"It must just be the whole Blaise obsession that's turning me off so much" Ron thought, hopefully. "We got stuck in a broom closet for a while, and I have no idea if he likes you or not." He told her, irritated.

He didn't know why, but he didn't really want to tell her what Blaise told him about his father, and the conversation the two of them had overheard between Snape, and Dumbledor. And he certainly didn't want to tell her the feelings that swamped his body when ever he and Blaise touched.

Hermione moaned dramatically, "But you were supposed to find out!"

"Well I didn't." Ron said shortly, this new Hermione was really starting to get on his nerves. If this was how Hermione got when she was in love with some guy, he wasn't sure he actually wanted to go out with her. Or any girl! They were too tiring.

He pushed Hermione off his lap, "I'm tired 'Mione, I'm going to bed. See you in the morning," he picked up his bag and walked up the stairs ignoring his friend's protests.

He fell into bed, exhausted, tomorrow was gonna suck. He drifted to sleep to the sound of Neville's snores, and thoughts of Blaise.