Alright. Chapter 3. Enjoy, read, review, and remember I do not own Harry Potter or his world. If I did, Severus Snape would still be alive.

The tension in the air crackled, almost euphorically. Hermione fixed Blaise with her most pronounced glare, something that had once made even Severus Snape back down from an argument with her. "That you deserved that was possibly the biggest understatement of the year, Blaise Zabini. You really hurt me, and Ginny did too – but we can't help you if you let the past interfere. You two – selfish and obnoxiously hot-headed as you are – are perfect for each other," she explained, her voice heated. She didn't want two of the people she cared most about in the world to lose each other. Perhaps it was selfish of her, but she could not help it. She knew, in a way, how it felt to be abandoned. Ginny – well, she hadn't been talking to Harry much at all since Ron died, months before the final battle; it had been Blaise, Draco, and Hermione that had consoled the girl. Hermione realized that there was no one else that she at least, could turn to. Not so sure about Blaise, she eyed him warily, brown eyes glinting with suspicion.

"Wait. I don't think I said anything about Ginny," Blaise intoned, his brain catching up to the fact that he hadn't told them anything about what happened. At least, he hadn't brought it up. "How did you know? Did she tell you? Oh god, you're going to side with her! You think I did it! Hermione, why isn't there firewhiskey in this house? Why?"

"Blaise, it's because of Sebastian, and if you had bothered to speak to me at all while I was pregnant – or at least bothered to attend the christening ceremony, you would know that. Or have you forgotten that I have a three-month-old infant son? Have you forgotten why you broke up with Draco and I?" she drilled, calming down slightly. "As for Ginny, yes, she told us, but we aren't going to take her side. It doesn't mean we'll be taking yours, either. I do not believe that you cheated on Ginny, but then again, you did betray us. Your best friends." Her speech had brightened her, and she had moved to sit on Draco's lap, a shiver running up her spine. Although they lived together, and dated, and had professed their mutual love, Hermione still didn't like close contact. She wasn't comfortable with it.

This time, though, she felt it was almost necessary, and she enjoyed feeling the beat of Draco's heart against her back, lacing her fingers through his and pulling his hands up to rest on her lap. He looked a bit confused, but Blaise was staring at their interlocked hands. Thank God that he hadn't seen Draco's look of puzzlement. It would make things worse if their friend realized they didn't actively participate in more intimate contact than was considered friendly. Hugs from behind were alright – that had been before when they were friends. This was new. Draco and Hermione found, surprisingly, that it was comforting, almost natural.

Draco had been concerned about initiating a more serious physical relationship with Hermione, as well, but now was not the time or place to consider what was happening between them. Now was the time to consider Blaise and Ginny, not Draco and Hermione and Sebastian.

"You're right, Hermione," Blaise admitted, still staring almost longingly at the way the two felt so at ease together (he was completely unaware at their nerves, and they were trying their best to keep it that way). Ginny – he had that with her, and now it was gone. The four of them had been easy friends once upon a time, and he regretted that the easiness might not return. It was his fault; he should have pushed through. After all, he knew what Draco felt; he had been his best friend up until shortly after they turned eighteen. He knew that the blonde man could be mature and feel regret and be sorry, he knew that Draco could (surprisingly) think of something other than himself. When Hermione had forgiven him, Blaise could not have been happier.

"I'm sorry. Ginny – well, you know how she is," he finally conceded. "I never meant it to be forever, you know? I just thought she needed some more time to cool down. I don't think she's forgiven you yet, Draco, or you Hermione. For some reason, she thinks that you're hurting yourself purposefully, but you know her, right? She might be a bit paranoid, she might be temperamental and sometimes downright scary, but I love her. I can see you two love each other, perhaps more than Ginny and I ever did. I still love her more than anything, but…we had rocky parts and happy parts. She and I argued a lot. What do you do?"

"It really is Sebastian, and the history Draco and I have. He treads on eggshells, and I on glass. It's intense sometimes, Blaise, but it's true, and that's what keeps us happy, even though he can be insufferable, but you know Draco," Hermione said – she was almost always more diplomatic than any of the four, but she could be even scarier than Ginny when angry, more because she was normally so calm and docile than because she was a force to be reckoned with – even though she was.

"I don't understand."

"Don't try to, mate," Draco said, "It hurts even my head sometimes, and we all know I'm far superior to you." They all chuckled at that, even Blaise, although his laughter was restrained and cut off. "Anyway, we forgive you." Squeezing Hermione's slender hand, hoping he hadn't taken too much liberty at saying that, he smiled tightly. There was a much bigger issue at hand; getting Blaise to apologize was minor compared to attempting to calm down the Weaselette (and yes, Draco still referred to her as such, considering he knew all too well that she called him Malodorous and Ferret, both of which she picked up from Hermione.). Trying to appeal to her rational side hardly ever worked, because when she was upset…well.

Ginny was never very rational in the first place.

That's what they loved and hated about her, although for one in particular, it was mainly love.

"So what's all this about Cho?" Hermione inquired, causing a shot of disdain to flutter across Blaise' Grecian features.

He had just come home – it was the day before their anniversary, and he had been out most of the day trying to perfect his plan. He knew what he was going to wear, where he would take her, and above all, the exact wording. It was going to be perfect, and there wasn't a doubt in his mind about what she would say. It would be beautiful, and she, as always, would be beautiful. A smile was easy on his face as he opened the door to her flat – the flat they shared more often than not, something he had long since christened home. His smile had faded as soon as he saw the tears streaming down her perfectly freckled cheeks. "Gin, what's wrong?" he asked, naively. If looks could kill, he would have died a quick, but very painful death.

She hated him. Why did she hate him?

"Don't play coy with me, Blaise Zabini."

"I have no idea what you're talking about Ginny," he said, confusion apparent even to her, but she thought – obviously – that he was faking it. It was real, and she should have known that he wasn't that good of an actor, in hindsight. "I don't understand. What's going on?" He felt a little like a lost puppy dog, an animal whose master just threw it out on the street, and he couldn't help but feel a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. Perhaps this would be a brief fight, but he was no longer sure of her feelings for him. Unadulterated fury shot at him through her eyes.

"Really, Blaise – I would have expected groveling, not denial. You bloody damn well know what's going on. You slept with Cho Chang in my bed. MY BED!" she exclaimed at this point up in his face (he couldn't help but think about how beautiful she was when she was mad). Now, though, he was getting mad at her – her accusations were entirely unfounded! As if she read his thoughts, she took her strong hand and shoved him lightly. It wasn't playful. "I caught you. I saw you."

"It wasn't me!"

"Blaise. I know what you look like naked. Don't try and convince me otherwise. I saw you. I saw you screwing that tramp, and you cannot wheedle yourself out of this one. I swear to Morganna, Blaise, I will never forgive you."

She slammed the door in his face as he fought to understand. Cho Chang…and him? Of all the half-cocked ideas Ginny had, she had to put him in their bed with Cho Chang. It had taken the whole entire night to piece together what happened (and many angry Weasleys confronting him and threatening him with physical pain). That bitch had gotten a boyfriend, polyjuiced him, and then…

It had to be. Had to be! Otherwise, Ginny wouldn't be mad at him. Otherwise, Cho wouldn't be looking so smug when he went into work the next day looking weary and upset. Otherwise she wouldn't have said, "Thanks for letting me use your brush, Blaise. Oh – and your bed. It was very comfortable, and the girl's face was priceless." All in all, Blaise was beginning to convince himself that Cho had deserved Slytherin (and she deserved jail), there was no way that Ginny would believe him, and he was doomed.

He quickly explained how he had still tried to carry out his plan, hoping that she must have realized her mistake by then. How wrong he was – she had still been angry as ever, and he had subsequently lost her. He lost her to her foolish pride, and he had lost her to his inability to calm her down, to make her think logically and rationally. Breaking down again, he held a hand out to the two, dropping his head into the other one.

He had lost his love and his life; both Draco and Hermione understood how he was feeling, and they stayed quiet, glancing at each other briefly before Hermione jumped up. "Shit!" she exclaimed. Both of the boys glanced expectantly at her, and she looked pointedly at the clock. "Ginny." Hermione and Draco's flat held a clock much like Molly Weasley's, something the family had gifted Hermione with when they were all still friends, before Ron died. It had Ginny, Draco, Harry, Ron, Blaise, and her own picture on the many hands, although Ron's hand simply spun in wild circles.

Ginny's hand was currently in the 'visiting' slot, and all three friends jumped when the knock came at the door. Blaise almost looked sick, Draco looked like he didn't know what to do, and Hermione, well, she was already up and walking to the door. "Take Blaise and the clock into the guest bedroom and for Merlin's sake, ward the doors with a silencer, a muffler, and something to keep her out! She paces when she's angry!" It was true, Ginny would walk briskly from room to room, shouting and waving her hands to make points, and she sometimes left a swath of near destruction behind her. She had never broken anything, but picture frames, books, and anything that was not supposed to be on the floor generally ended up on the floor.

When Hermione opened the door, a tight smile on her face, Ginny heard in the background a door slamming, and before she said 'hello' or 'thank you' she asked, "What was that?" Obviously, Ginny had not gained very many manners in the year they had separated.

"Ginny Weasley, you should very well know what that is," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes slightly. It was very easy to forget that Ginny and she were no longer friends, easy to forget that Ginny was only here because of the man currently sequestered in her guest room. At Ginny's bewildered, hurt, and enraged look, Hermione explained, "Draco's running away from you."

"Oh," she gasped, and then her visage returned somber, the sneer that had rested earlier replaced by sadness and perhaps hope. "Hermione – I…" Of course she couldn't finish the sentence. Of course her obstinate pride wouldn't let her apologize. Of course she had to look into Hermione's understanding face. Of course the slightly shorter girl pulled her in for a hug.

Of course Ginny started sobbing, pride forgotten, when Hermione whispered, "It's okay. You've been forgiven for months now. I've just been waiting for you to come back." So many problems were solved with that, and Ginny was thankful. Ginny was even more thankful when Hermione detached herself from the red-head's arms, dragged her in the house, shut the door, and led her over to the sofa. Hermione was thankful that Ginny appeared to be more distraught than angry. Hermione was thankful that Ginny was still wearing the ring Blaise had left behind. Hermione was thankful that Ginny was not screaming her lungs out.

"Blaise…" was all that Ginny could say, "Your sofa smells like him. Was he here?" There was something about the lost look on Ginny's face that capitulated Hermione into nodding somberly, sitting down on the couch as a fresh system of tears and sobs shook her friend (for that was what they were…really). All Hermione could do – she didn't want to speak, lest she ruin Ginny's mood (she really didn't want an angry Ginny on her hands) – was rest her hand tentatively on the crying girl's shoulder. "Oh, you must think I'm horrible! I left, no, abandoned you and Malfoy, and now I've broken Blaise's heart!"

"I'm not worried about Blaise. I'm worried about you, Ginny," Hermione reassured, "And no, I don't think you're horrible, I think you've made mistakes – everyone makes mistakes. Remember, in sixth year, when Harry hexed Draco in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom? Remember all the times that Ronald blew up his homework?" She cited their friend's mistakes to hopefully keep everything together, hopefully to keep Ginny from thinking that she was worthless. It didn't work.

"I'm worthless," sobbed Ginny, and without regard to Hermione, blew her nose on the dark material of Hermione's working robes.

"No, Ginny, you're not," she assured her friend, eying the slime on her sleeve warily, before deciding it was of no consequence. A simple cleaning spell would get it out; the Muggle washing machine would, too – it would be a perfect opportunity to teach Draco how to use it.

"Without Blaise, I am," Ginny insisted.

"Without Blaise, you're still you, whether you like it or not. And you, Ginny Weasley, are not worthless."

"He cheated on me. He thinks I'm worthless."

"He was going to propose to you. How do you know he actually cheated on you?"

"Because I saw them."

"It's the magical world. You can never be too sure what you see."

"I know what I saw. He was shagging her."

"That doesn't make you worthless."

"Yes, it does."

"Ginny."

"Fine, maybe I'm not worthless, but I feel like I am," Ginny bemoaned, dropping her head into her hands, shaking it side to side as if saying 'no.' It was obvious from the nearly blank look on her face she was almost completely broken; Hermione had never seen her like this before, and was overcome by an overwhelming desire to make everything okay. "I love him. He obviously loved me. We could have worked through this. He wanted to marry me. I threw it all back in his face. I'm just as bad as him. I'm worse than him."

"Ginny, listen to me – he still loves you, and if he did cheat on you, which, might I add, stretches my imagination far beyond its normal confines, then it's his fault for not respecting you, not keeping you the number one female in his life," Hermione said, trying to be reassuring, trying to get it through Ginny's brain that she was actually worth something, but she had never been fully rational when she was upset. "If you can forgive him, I'm sure he'll forgive you. You do still love him, right?"

"I can't."

This worried Hermione, more than anything else Ginny had said in those five minutes. "Can't what? Can't love him, or can't forgive him?" she asked, praying Ginny would clarify.

"I just…can't forgive him. I will love him forever, but I cannot forgive him."

"Ginny, I forgave Draco."

"It's different. He hurt me."

"Ginny, you don't think Draco hurt me? He raped me, left me pregnant, and he had abandoned us! How is that different? How?!" Hermione exclaimed – completely angry at Ginny for insinuating that rape was not as hurtful as someone cheating on you.

"Because you didn't care," Ginny stubbornly said, standing up from the couch and putting her hands on her hips. "Draco raped you and you took him back into your life like it was nothing. Besides, you weren't even together until after you forgave him. That makes it different."

"Oh, so I had to be dating him to love him?" Hermione shot back, her voice layered with sarcasm and disgust at how dim-witted Ginny was. This was the age-old argument, and it was turning into the same argument that Ginny had initiated a year ago, after Hermione had delivered the news that she and Draco were friends again, only last time, she didn't say anything about 'love.'

Ginny stared shocked.

"I didn't know."