Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters

Rating: T for language (tons of naughty words galore!)

Pairing: RW/DM (but hinted at pairings between other characters!)

If you do not like slash or mpreg (only hinted at in this chapter) then please turn back now!

(A/N: I am very happy to be posting this because it has taken me a long time to come up with something that would be awesome for this part! I am also happy for the reviews the previous two parts have received and I am delighted that you seem to be liking this! I want you to know I have taken in constructive criticism and helpful information to making this story the best I could which is why this (Hint! Hint!) is probably not the last of the 'Problem' series/saga WHATEVER you want to call it. Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this as much as I have!)

Onward to the story! (Reviews are love...so much love...)

Foreword (of sorts)

He watched him silently, taking notice of the things he'd never seen before, or just hadn't paid much attention to. He followed every single movement his arm made as he lifted the fork to his…dare he say it…perfect mouth. He watched how his jaw moved as he chewed his food slowly, almost…sensually…unintentionally of course. He saw the way his entire body trembled as he let out a loud laugh--full of passion and unhindered amusement.

It had never occurred to him before, that perhaps these were the small things that drew his friend in. That had captured and ensnared his prejudice pureblooded mind at first against his will, but had slowly began to unravel his thorn-laden rose-of-a-heart, and turned his unwillingness into something much more.

Blaise Zabini had thought he knew Draco Malfoy well, and indeed he did know his friend inside and out….But Ronald Weasley had turned Draco into something much different than what he had used to be. The red-head had turned him into a person full of confusion but with some of the best feelings Blaise knew he had to possess. The Italian could easily say that he couldn't wait to find out what was in store for the two, and if they would have their well-deserved end together.

Now, follow along as our favorite love-birds and their friends, come to terms with this rocky romance, and realize that love is possible in the most strangest of places and even more so, possible in the strangest of people.

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The sky was gray and full of clouds that promised rain. The air was cold, and the leaves that had fallen already blew gracefully across the ground, engaged in their flurry-filled dances that the fall season created. A particularly sharp gust of wind caused the boy to pull his hat more securely over his ears and adjust the wool gloves his mother had sent not three weeks before.

Ron sighed heavily as he stared idly out across the quidditch pitch. He was sitting in one of the many empty stands just trying to sort out his thoughts. They had been jumbled as of late and he felt overwhelmed with his own emotions.

"I wonder if…that incident at the lake was just nothing…and the thing about my freckles…it was probably nothing as well," he thought to which his conscience replied in a rather annoying manner. "If that's what you'd like to force yourself to believe Ronald then go right on ahead believing that. But you know that you can't hide from the obvious facts." Said teen wrinkled his nose in distaste at his own stupid thoughts, "Yeah, yeah. That's what you're always saying nowadays…why am I talking to myself? I must be crazy."

The annoying little voice let out an equally nerve-grating chuckle, obviously enjoying the mental banter that was going on. Quickly fed up, Ron shut the voice out, choosing to let his thoughts wander than try to deal with them at the moment.

Several long moments passed before he growled in frustration at his own merciless mind. It had been working double time these days which made it even harder to think of nothing with absolutely no effort.

This time he was upset because of his failed attempts, (which could hardly be called attempts), at seducing the con-artist of Hogwarts, into telling him how he truly felt about him. Don't get the red head wrong now, he wasn't too stupid to know that Malfoy liked him, (or whatever it was that the blonde was feeling), he just didn't know how to get the whole school to catch him in the act.

"Now really Ronald, catch him in the act of what exactly?" Oh here it was with the stupid little voice named his conscience again. Then again…what exactly would he be showing if he were to "catch Malfoy in the act?" A rush of warm breath flowed petulantly from the pink lips of his freckled face as Ron thought about what his inner-voice had annoyingly brought to his attention. "I guess I don't know," he said out loud, leaning forward to rest his head in his arms on the wooden railing of the stand he was sitting in.

An icy drop of water hit his nose quite heavily, causing Ron to bolt upright. Looking up he saw that the gray clouds had grown even darker than before and were now letting out their promised rain. Sighing for what could have been the thousandth time that day, he wrapped his Gryffindor scarf even tighter around his neck, pulled down his hat a little more to cover his ears, then slowly started making his way back to the castle.

He wasn't in a hurry at all. He didn't want to go back inside to the tower where he knew Hermione and Harry were waiting for him with a thousand-and-one questions. Ever since the lake incident, they had been asking questions for answers the red head couldn't and didn't feel like giving. They just didn't understand how difficult it was for him. After all, he was a Weasley and Draco wasa Malfoy. There was absolutely no way in hell they could ever work through this without their family histories getting in the way. No way in hell.

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Blaise flipped through page after page after page of useless information that was bound to get him absolutely nowhere on his Transfiguration essay that was due sometime in the next week. Sighing heavily he closed the book, instantly standing to return it to the shelf which it came from, two bookcases behind where he was sitting.

As he got closer to the bookshelf, the Italian teen stopped at the sound of voices and what sounded like an argument of sorts. Now by no means was he an eavesdropper…he was simply just curious at why anyone would choose a library as a place to argue about anything. "How are we supposed to make someone apologize, much less, Malfoy apologize to Ron?" Blaise's eyebrow immediately rose at this bit of information as he stayed mindful not to be seen. So the argument was about Draco. The Slytherin's expression twisted itself into a sort of malicious grin once he heard the voice of the second person. "Simple 'Mione, we blackmail him." Payback for Potter would be a bitch for sure he chuckled to himself, peering around a book directly behind the bushy-haired witch know-it-all which gave him a clear view of Mr. Potter.

He continued to listen to their "private" conversation, making mental notes here and there on the things he would definitely relay to Draco.

"Oh Harry honestly! For someone so smart I can't believe you'd say something so stupid," Granger groaned, frustrated at the idea of blackmail. Mental note here. "Hermione…well…thanks but I know the perfect way to blackmail Malfoy." At this, Blaise imagined the girl's face to hold an expression of acute speculation, not at all believing her friend. "Don't look at me like that," came Potter's response, "I know you may not believe me," mental note here, "but a few weeks ago, before any of this started, Malfoy's dad sent him a letter." Definite mental note here.

What in hell's name did Potter know about that letter? Blaise knew exactly what letter was coming into question here, he'd actually read it himself after his best friend anxiously handed it over to him. He strained to hear what else Potter was saying about the letter, as his voice had dropped down to a low whisper.

"What letter?" came Granger's voice. As soon as Potter opened his mouth, Blaise knew he was going to kill him, "I snuck into Malfoy's private rooms just around the hall from the Slytherin portrait--" "Why on earthwould you sneak into Malfoy's rooms? Do you have a death wish?" Hermione hissed, gripping Harry tightly by the shoulders. Mental note here. Blaise smiled unpleasantly at the Boy-Who-Lived as he winced at the force of his friend's hold. He knew payback would definitely be a bitch, but he was shocked at what Potter said next.

"No I don't 'Mione…look," Harry said, his expression turning very serious and determined, "this isn't just about Malfoy okay? I…I'm jealous of him because…well…I like Ron too…I love him in fact, but I know he doesn't feel the same way about me and I don't want to see him get hurt." Definite, definite mental note here. The Slytherin was in total shock and he imagined Granger to look the exact same way--judging from her tone--she definitely was.

Hermione struggled to find the words, fishing around to find the right ones to use. A total of one hundred and twenty-three seconds passed before she spoke, saying what Blaise was thinking, "I know you can't even be serious…but you're not joking are you?" A nod of the raven-haired head let Blaise know that he was entirely doubtless about his confession, making the Italian mentally kick himself in the ass for not even seeing the love-struck look he saw now on Potter's face, even in passing.

Quickly forgetting about the letter altogether, Blaise inconspicuously laid his book down on a nearby table, gathered his other books as well as his bag, then quickly headed to the library doors. He just hadto tell Draco about this, he just-- "OOMF!"

Lying on the floor, he was a little confused at how, exactly, he had ended up there and so unceremoniously too. Growing frustrated with the situation he looked up, and just as he was about to deliver the insult on the tip of his tongue he stopped short. Staring down at him with a look of amusement in her eyes was the only person who made him quite speechless. Leaning down while tucking ginger hair behind her ear she offered her hand to help him up and said, "Hello Blaise, sorry about that."

His mouth moved, but nothing came out. A soft breath of laughter escaped her lips, "Cat got your tongue?" Suddenly a wicked grin broke out across his face and without much warning at all, he pulled her down to be eye level with him gently brushing his thumb over her perfect lips. A blush broke out on her cheeks, "Blaise?" Innocently he responded with, "Yes Ginny?"

When she opened her mouth again he quickly pulled her down the rest of the way to meet his own lips in a decidedly sinful kiss. She responded immediately with a silent scream when he bit down on her bottom lip, allowing him to thrust his tongue into her mouth very gently. Once the Slytherin felt her hand on his cheek he pulled away from her, stood up, gathered his books, then quietly left the scene of the crime, leaving Ginny Weasley very shocked indeed.

As he walked back to Draco's private rooms a satisfied smirk graced his lips. He knew that she'd definitely be curious and come back for more, but as soon as he thought of her, he knew that something had to be done about Potter's stealing…and never-ending meddling come to think of it . It wasn't a crime to love someone, but it was another thing to take what was not yours, especially for blackmail.

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Dear Draco,

It has come to my attention that you have been…dare I say it…pining after someone for these past few months. Without your knowledge I paid a visit to Hogwarts with the Headmaster's full consent to do what I felt had to be done. I used polyjuice to disguise myself as a student to follow you without your notice and I must say, the things that I saw were less than Malfoy-worthy behavior. That day, when you were looking for someone and had succeeded in finding them near the lake, I was shocked at whom this person was. I would have never guessed that you, my son, having been raised with deep Pureblood traditions could have made such a daring decision in whom you have chosen to spend the rest of your life with. Your mother is surely writing a letter of her own as I write this, but know that she is pleased that you've at least found someone to take on as a…spouse. I will allow you your happiness on two mandatory conditions, first, you will marry within two years after your graduation, and second, your spouse will conceive an heir within your first year of marriage. I do not expect a reply as your mother insisted that she add in a third condition, that being that you and Mr. Ronald Weasley will join us for dinner within the next month, along with his mother and father.

Wishing you well and luck,

Lucius A. Malfoy

When Draco had actually read the letter for the first time, he couldn't have hardly believed his eyes so he did the only thing probable--called in Blaise to decipher if he were seeing things.

(Flashback)

"Well Draco…looks to me dear old Lucius said as much as I warned you he would…except maybe the unorthodox betrothal and conditions to your happiness, but I expected as much."

(End Flashback)

Now, as he thought on the blasted letter's contents and of course, his most trusted friend's confirmation of what he'd read, Draco couldn't help but feel a bit less determined than he'd had been when the pressure wasn't on him for obtaining his object of affection. I mean…not only did he have to get Weasley's affections in return, he'd have to break his father's news to the boy as well.

'God must not like me at all,'the young Malfoy thought, a hint of bitterness to his tone.

"Draco! You won't believe what I just discovered!"

The pale blonde knew he should have been shocked--pissed off even--at his confidante's sudden entrance into his private rooms but oddly…he couldn't have cared less. He had much more important things on his mind than being broken in on.

"Blaise, at this point in time I'm willing to believe anything you could possibly tell me," came the monotonous reply. Light brown eyes narrowed at the pitiful sight of his friend. In less than two weeks since the incident at the lake, the powerful, witty, bastard-of-a-young-man who stood up against his father, had been reduced to a puddle of directionless shit to put it in the easiest way possible.

"Fuck you Draco fucking Malfoy! How about this for believing anything: Potter, that's right, Harry fucking Golden Boy Potter, stole that damn letter your father sent you and is quite pitifully in love with Weasley. YourWeasley I might add," Blaise spewed at his infuriating friend. Had the world just suddenly gone insane? By the look on Draco's face he believed it had.

Draco wasn't sure if he'd heard right. Oh yes, he'd heard his name being smeared, he'd heard his friend basically call him a bastard, he'd even heard that Potter had stolen his father's letter written to he, Draco, himself….Did Blaise just say that Potter was in…had feelings for…wanted what was…he was a pouf? Did the world just suddenly flip upside-down? By the look on Blaise's face, he believed it had.

The transformation was instantaneous. One moment the Slytherin Prince was sitting in front of him, wallowing in self-pity and had basically given up on his attempts at courting Ronald Weasley, and the next moment he was nearly destroying the place in an absolute torrential fit of rage. Somehow this brought the Italian great assurance that his friend would finish what he'd set out to do, Lucius Malfoy be damned for the moment.

"What are you planning to do?" Silver eyes barely glanced his way as the enraged man continued looking around for something, "I'm going to kill Potter." A sinister smirk graced the Italian's features as he commented airily, "So am I, but might I add what his dying wishes are?" "I don't care," came the instantaneous reply. "He doesn't want his friend to get hurt since he knows his affections won't be returned," Blaise said anyway, twirling his wand lazily in his fingers. At this bit of information the Malfoy heir stopped his fevered searching, turning narrowed silver eyes on his friend. "What should I know this for?"

Blaise's facial expression changed. It turned into a look of understanding and this caught Draco off guard. A friendly, reassuring hand came to rest upon the black cotton-clad shoulder it had touched in comfort so many times before, but Draco felt that this touch was different, like he didn't need it, but that the one in front of him did. He listened quite well to what he knew his friend had to say and he did so with a strangely open mind.

"You should know Potter's dying wish because…even though his confession surprised me, angered me, made me want to kill him…for you…it relieved me all the same. I was glad to know that he didn't want your Weasley to be hurt, I was glad to know that I'm not the only one who wants the best for the one he loves. I--" "Blaise I didn't know--" "I never suggested that you should. I'm the one--the only one--that you seek out for comfort, reassurance. I'm the only one you divulge your most secret of all secrets, I know I'm the only one that can rightfully call you a friend. You've always been mine…but rightly I've never always been yours. I--"

Soft lips were pressed gently to his own, strong familiar arms were wrapped comfortably around his waist, and his eyes were wide with shock. Never even in his wildest dreams or most private fantasies did the young man ever imagine this moment. He'd never fully allowed such a vision to enter his mind for fear that what it implied would consume him, turning his carefully hidden desire into an obsession. Now, however, the gentle kiss that he was experiencing did many things to him, many good and thoughtless things. He felt happy, excited, breathless, enamored but…but his feelings of being not truly wanted, of being only looked at as a friend and nothing more caused the sudden tears that gently fell from his eyes. 'Gentle,'Blaise thought forlornly, shutting his eyes as Draco pulled his head back to see his face, 'everything has to be gentle.'

"Blaise look at me," Draco gently prompted, gently thumbing away the tears that coursed down his friend's face. The head shook side to side in his hands; Blaise couldn't bear facing the strong, powerful, Malfoy heir that stood before him. Realization hit the blonde Slytherin like a brick wall in this moment, making him pull the man in front of him tightly to his chest. Blaise, not at all expecting the rough embrace that momentarily ceased his tears, burst into quiet sobs, cursing himself for his weakness. Rule number one of being a Pureblood, never let anyone see you cry.

Draco felt incredibly blind, utterly baffled that he'd never seen what he had seen moments before he'd kissed the Italian Slytherin he trusted with his life. The love that shone so brightly in those light brown eyes he often saw but never actually took the time to look into, struck a cord in himself. It made him see just how much he took his confidante for granted, how much he relied on him, and yet, how little he ever returned all those favors that were effortlessly and willingly granted to him.

"Blaise, please look at me," he quietly prompted once again as soon as he felt the somewhat shorter man stop sobbing and succumb to soft shudders. Blaise shook his head, embarrassed that he'd lost face in front of the person he knew did not return his unrequited feelings of love. "You know, I'm not surprised at the fact that you've just cried in front of me, in my arms, because of me…I'm just surprised you waited so long to do so."

Quickly a head snapped up and two pairs of eyes met. Draco smiled in amusement, he knew the brunette would be shocked. Blaise silently cursed the blonde for being so cunning, though that wasone of the things that guaranteed you as a Slytherin. Pale hands made their way down tan arms and continued further until they stopped at a waist, "I'm sorry I've taken you for granted and I'm sorry that by doing so I've overlooked your feelings for me and never took them in for consideration. I can easily say that I haven't nearly been the friend you should want or deserve and I will spend as long as it takes making up for my mistakes."

"I'm not so sure I know what to say…you still haven't pushed me away yet," Blaise stated, his voice unsure, not very usual for the Slytherin. Silver eyes softened at the vulnerability so openly being displayed in front of him, "I just told you I'm not going anywhere and I meant what I said." "I believe you its just…I want you to be happy. I never told you about how I felt because…nearly from the first moment you laid eyes on Weasley I knew he was the one you wanted.

"You came alive every time he walked by, every time someone mentioned him you would smile, every time you heard his voice you would look for him until you spotted him in the crowd. You picked fights with him just for an excuse to be around him and I never told you because he made you better. He slowly but surely unraveled you against your own knowing and honestly…who am I to stand in the way of something so right? My feelings for you pale in comparison to what you have for him and if the way he's been secretly watching you lately is proof enough, then I swear on the Dark Lord's grave itself that he loves you too."

Draco still didn't feel convinced. He still didn't feel as if what Blaise was telling him now, meant that the Italian was sure of the decision he was making--the decision he had already made years before.

Blaise read the look in Draco's eyes. He saw the uncertainty…it made him want to slap the man a couple times. He didn't want anyone's pity or for Draco to want him because he now felt obliged. Honestly Blaise didn't care if he had been taken for granted, if the blame should fall on anyone then let it land on himself for being so naïve, but he knew, just felt it in his heart and mind, that Draco and Ronald Weasley belonged together and he knew the silver eyed man felt the same.

Reaching up to brush the pale-blonde locks that had fallen into the stormy silver eyes he would never forget, Blaise pulled the other man's face closer and closer until they were merely a breath apart. "If you give up on Weasley, if you give up on…on love, then I swear to the highest power out there that I will kill you where you stand."

Lips came together once more. It was a gesture of understanding on one part and a gift on the other. Which of the two felt it was either of these things? Well, it was hard to tell one meaning from the other in the end. All could be said on that matter is what happened in that room, stayed in that room. Decision or indecision be damned for the moment.

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The Common Room was nearly empty as the Golden Trio sat in their usual seats near the fireplace. The atmosphere was unusually peaceful, devoid of any sort of tension that had been a near constant presence in the last couple of weeks or so. Ron had actually relaxed since earlier on the quidditch pitch.

His plans of seduction weren't going accordingly…weren't really going at all, but it didn't matter once he figured he'd just give the Slytherin time. Plus he hadn't really decided on the things he was feeling for the Malfoy heir anyhow.

"Ron…we have something we want to talk to you about…well actually…Harry has something he wants to tell you."

Ah. Fucking great. Count on Hermione to decide to ruin a perfect moment for studying…not that any of them were actually studying….

Brushing his ginger hair from his eyes, Ron observed his best friends a bit wearily as he sat up in the armchair he was currently occupying. Both looked normal, no looks of trepidation or anxiety etched on their faces. Good, he gave them the green light that it was okay to begin their, (what he hoped to be), short and straight-to-the-point conversation.

An uncomfortable silence washed through the room, but each did their best to ignore it, simply staring at each other until someone decided to speak up. Surprisingly, Ron spoke first, "Look Harry, Hermione. I don't know how to tell you this…fuck I wasn't planning on telling you at any time soon…." He floundered with words, fishing around in his head to say the right ones. He wanted to make his confession as blunt and straightforward as he could and surprisingly, (once again), Harry spoke up this time,

"I think I could help you out mate. If you like…or have feelings for Draco Malfoy, then don't let this rivalry he and I have kept going for years stand in your way. I consider you as more than my best friend and oddly, your affections for him don't ring a jealous bone in my body. Hermione and I…we just want you to be happy and we'll be there to support you. Besides, I owe you for my life after all."

A blink. Another blink. One more for good measure. Ginger eyebrows seemed to have disappeared into the ginger hairline just above the forehead. He was doing a dangerously well impression of a fish at the moment as he gazed into the green eyes of his best friend…or…erm…yeah…still his best friend. Ron visibly relaxed when he came to this conclusion…you know…that he and Harry were still best friends.

He looked to Hermione for…he didn't know what but he found it. She had obviously known about this for some time now. Good. Everyone knew things that he didn't and always left him out. Brilliant…though he was one to talk.

Harry blushed as he cleared his throat, "I'd feel much nicer if you'd say something."

Oh. Oh right. Ron was supposed to say something now…but what exactly could he say? Something simple, but conveyed the message in its entirety. "I-I guess I'm terrible at keeping secrets--" "Your silence tells all," came the know-it-all reply from…who else would it have come from? Ron blushed, glaring at his friend, "Thanks 'Mione, though I don't remember asking for your opinion." "You're welcome," came the smart reply.

Suddenly words for all three of them didn't matter anymore. A burst of laughter quickly followed and what came out of it was a heartfelt group hug. As cliché as it may be, Ron, Harry, and Hermione knew that whatever life handed them, they'd still be best friends. Ron placed a gentle kiss on Harry's forehead, just above that scar that had caused them more trouble than anything ever had in their lives. The raven-haired Gryffindor knew his affections wouldn't be returned in full, but he knew that the friendship Ron and himself shared was the best thing he could hope for. All three of them were stuck for life whether they liked it or not.

"My boys are in love and where does that leave me?" came the mock-resentful tone from…who else would it have come from? "Ah 'Mione, I've seen Seamus Finnegan look you over more times than I--" "I will castrate you with my bare hands if you finish that statement," came the vicious reply from…there's no need, we all know who it came from.

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Later on that night as he lay in bed thinking over everything that had happened in the past two weeks, he realized that deep down he'd always seen Draco Malfoy in a different light. He'd also figured that Harry's fleeting touches, subtle smiles, and his requests to be held long after a nightmare had subsided weren't because of the moments these types of things were permitted for.

A smile graced his freckled face as his eyelids started to grow heavy and droop suddenly. Ron had a feeling that something he wasn't expecting, but had been waiting for a long time to come, was going to happen very soon.

'Might even happen tomorrow,' he thought with a chuckle to himself. "Your imagination is a wild thing you know." Ron muttered something that sounded a lot like, "Piss off," to the dark dormitory. Nothing else stirred as he finally fell asleep, not a single dream playing in his mind.

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Breakfast. Hungry. Breakfast time. Starved and oh so hungry. Need food. Breakfast. Morning time revival hour. Breakfast, breakfast, breakfast, breakfast!

The Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning hum of the many students that filled the seats of their house tables. The professors sat at their usual places at the head table that faced the wonderful pupils they had to teach. Sarcasm was key when dealing with over a hundred students in a single day.

Food filled the trays in front of the golden plates that sat empty and dormant for a few minutes just before eight-thirty. Many helped themselves to the various assortments of sausage, eggs, fruits, pastries, juices and the like as they were presented on the golden platters that the house elves shined spotless.

Sunshine streaked its way into the hall, the enchanted ceiling showed the magnificent cloudless morning sky, and no one seemed to be in a cheerless mood. Various snippets of conversation could be heard,

"Did you see Cassandra Yearling with David Sprout?"

"My mum is going to kill me when she sees my potions marks."

"I hear the Daily Prophet's Rita Skeeter is getting married!" "Wonder who the poor guy is."

Yes, the usual buzz of gossip and nonsense permeated the air, making for a friendly and cheery environment. Well…almost cheery….

"Ron why don't you eat something? Its not like you not to eat," Ginny prompted her older brother, attempting like most of the people at their table to get him to lift his fork and take a bite out of anything on his plate. Hermione had to fill his plate after five minutes had passed after the food filled the platters in front of them and the freckled man had just sat as still as a statue, seeming to be somewhere else.

Harry thought someone might have spelled him when they hadn't been looking. Hermione deemed that improbable because the Great Hall was loaded with wards to detect that sort of thing. Dean Thomas thought to yell straight in the red head's ear which effectively got him an earful himself when Ron had snapped and called him a pouf-fucking fag. That had really never been much of a secret since the tall black boy was currently in a relationship with Seamus Finnegan. Still, everyone had grown awful quiet after the outburst.

No one gave up until Ginny admitted defeat. They knew that at least he was aware of his surroundings and that he wasn't cursed or anything…so they just let him be. They let him be that is, until three things happened simultaneously that had everyone shocked into silence. One, Ron snapped out of his daze when he heard his name called, two, Blaise Zabini slapped Draco Malfoy when he strode into the Great Hall, and three, Malfoy actually laughed.

Besides Ron snapping out of it, the last two things had everyone stunned. Even the professors didn't know how to react. Everything was quiet except for Malfoy's laughter which sounded odd but genuine. Ron found it endearing and in later years to come he would explain to those who asked that the driving force behind why he did what he did, was that beautiful sound of laughter.

Slowly he stood, catching several people's attention. Hermione's eyes went wide when she understood what Ronald B. Weasley was getting ready to do. Ginny watched with curious but knowing eyes, blushing furiously when she caught the light brown eyes of her object of affection who winked none too innocently at her. It sent shivers down her spine as the look reminded her of that kiss that she oh-so-wanted to experience again.

Blaise knew when he looked at Ginny Weasley, that in time his heart would heal. He and Draco had an understanding that needed no words or reasons. They would love who they loved but they would always have each other, something that was once thought to be impossible. He watched as Ron walked, his body becoming more and more relaxed as he approached his target. He also chanced a look at Draco who had long ago stopped laughing and was waiting on baited breath as he also watched the ginger-haired man approach.

Harry smiled, shaking his head at how love worked in mysterious ways. It never ceased to amaze him how careless--how weightless--Ron seemed to become whenever he was around Malfoy. It was as if no one or anything else mattered. Even when the two fought, in later years he could testify that his best friend still maintained an air of weightlessness when he and his future husband would exchange heated words.

No one could truly believe that what they were witnessing was actually happening. Hell, even when Ron recounted this day, this moment, he still couldn't believe what had happened himself! Did it matter? No, because just like now, as there were no words exchanged between the two, as Draco swiftly pulled the smaller man to himself, as Ron gently wound his arms around the taller man's neck, as they thoughtlessly pressed their relieved and loving mouths together, just the feeling of the other there, made him believe, made them both believe.

The rest of the world be damned.

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"Your freckles aren't that horrible up close actually. Your sister isn't half as horrible to come and apologize to…see you around."

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As for Ron's perfect revenge? Well…let's just say that getting snogged senseless in front of the entire school was better than he'd imagined it.

End Part III

(A/N: There you have it! Ron and Draco's problem solved...or is it? I don't know! Review! Tell me what you think! and there will be another Part/Chapter in the nearest possible future! (Yes, please take note that I will be continuing this in chapters! no more confusion!) Thank you! (No flamies please!)