A/N: Sorry for this being quite a short little chapter. It was originally for a different story, but I changed it up and added it to this. I like it better here anyways, and it ties in well with the story. So enjoy, and I promise that I will try to update more. This chapter is from Blaise's point of view, but I can assure you that it will only be switching between Blaise and Ron.

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[Blaise's POV

He paced back and forth, his dark cloak swishing against the ground, making just the slightest noise. He looked the epitome of someone evil, just like in those Muggle films where the bad person is always dressed in black and never smiles. He smiled, disproving my previous thoughts as it made his face look pleasing, warm, even.

"Malfoy," I called, no, more like stated, from behind. He turned, slightly scrunching his regal nose.

"Yes, Zabini?" he said, raising a slender eyebrow.

"I was just looking for you, that's all," I said. I had obviously run there, but, calming myself, hadn't even broken a sweat. Malfoy shook his head, smiling slightly at the me.

"Oh," he frowned. "Well...why?" I probably looked uncomfortable, swaying on myfeet and biting my bottom lip indecisively.

"I had something to say..." Could I possibly say something stupider? The sky is blue, Draco; Kittens meow; your father is a Death Eater. I trailed off, thinking better of what I was going to say.

"Hmm." He scratched his left arm. He had this amazing way of making someone feel like they didn't exist. And imagine, if he could do that to me... I walked over to the couch, but didn't sit down. His dark features were being lit and darkened from the crackling fire.

"It's never warm in here." Malfoy just spared a glance at me, and then resumed his fire-staring. "I still don't understand why that bastard had to go and make the common room the dungeons. Honestly," He only used a few moments to remember who his I was talking about. Slytherin, the head honcho himself, of course.

"That's true," he paused for a moment. "Any homework?" He didn't receive an answer; instead, I gave him an incomprehensible look.

"Homework?" I said with a smirk, "No...I don't think so. You're pretty unhappy this year. Something up?" Malfoy just looked up at me. No malice, no sneer, no coldness that was characteristically habituated on his face. There was, if you looked closely enough, just a trace, a tiny, insignificant amount of sadness. Or worry perhaps. He rubbed his left arm nonchalantly, and looked back away, his hand still lingering.

"Oh," he said, replying to his own question. His face brightened slightly as he seemed to remember what he had come for in the first place.

"Me and a couple of guys were going down to Hogsmeade, come this weekend. I was wondering if you could care to join us? You know, go out with a couple friends....." I trailed off as I saw the look on Malfoy's face. It was sad, unbearably sad, and my heart clenched at the sight of my friends weakness. I didn't even know what was eating at him.

"I'm not in the mood for friends anymore. I think its best if I just don't talk to you guys again."

"That's a bit rash, don't you think?"

"I think all the time."

"That's not what I meant, and you know that. But you can't just dump us you know. You need us, just like we need you," I paused, and then smirked. "Sorry, that was really cheesy." When I didn't even get a glance of recognition, he gave up. "Fine then. I didn't think that you were being serious, seeing as no one really just does that. See you later."

Walking out of the common room, I was still a bit confused as to why on Earth he would come to this conclusion. No more friends? Ridiculous. Even if none of us were honest-to-God friends, we still were, um, I don't know. But not not-friends, if you know what I mean.

No one just comes to that closing, unless there's a good reason. And he better have a damn good reason for dumping me –the closest thing he has to a friend –this suddenly. And I was going to find out.

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A/N: Was it good? I hope so! Reviews make the world go round!