The project- blairon

Chapter 20

"So is there is specific place we're going to ditch them?" Ron queried.
Blaise replied, "Well since we don't have to stay in the school building over winter break, it could be anywhere. Do you know a place?"
"Umm, well a restaurant or cafe would be easiest, but then they'd just walk out." Ron concluded.
Blaise agreed,"Yeah, it has to be somewhere that would be- difficult, to leave."
"I know a little coffee shop that's in the middle of a flower field." Ron claimed, "it's perfect, if they tried to leave, they'd still be surrounded by flowers and stuff, long enough for those two to come to their senses."
"That'll work." Blaise stated.

"Are we telling Hermione and Pansy, about this whole plan thing?" Ron asked.
"They probably wouldn't want us messing with it- besides we'd have to tell them about what we saw;" Blaise pointed out, "I don't think Harry and Draco would like that very much."
"True... ok," Ron answered, "Is next Thursday ok?
"Yeah, we can sort out the rest then, Hermione and Pansy and heading over now." Blaise concluded.

Sure enough, looking in the direction of the dance floor, he's eyes fell on Hermione's bushy brown hair- and next to her Pansy. The latter exclaimed: "There you are Blaise! Where have you been?"
"Fred and George happened." Blaise explained simply.
"Well you're back now." She replied.
"Sorry Pansy, I was going to go back to the common room now." Blaise explained, "I have homework to do."
"I didn't know you were boring now Blaise." Pansy joked, it was clear she didn't mean it.
Ron added: "I think I'll leave to. It's too busy to go to the dorms anyway, so I'll just head somewhere else."
"Ok, see you tomorrow!" Hermione replied.

Ron edged his way through the crowd, trying not to bump into people, since he wasn't exactly the most agile. He stepped out through the portrait hole and into the corridor. What hit him first was the rush of cold air. Being in a room with that many people must've raised the temperature. It was now quite late in the night, so the beam of silver light shining right in his eyes was surprising, to say the least. There were no stars tonight, but the clouds had parted enough so the full moon could leak through and light the hall in blinding luminance. It reminded Ron of angels, but not the typical kind, the original type (that Luna had told him about). The type made of only eyes and wings, that looked as if they'd stare into your soul. It was ominous- but entrancing.

Honestly, Ron really didn't have any clue where to go. He wasn't technically allowed in corridors this late, but once you've been through enough, detention wasn't too big of a threat anymore. I mean, he almost died too many times to be scared of old Filch.

Just as he thought that- he heard Filch grunting from around the corner. It wasn't like detention was fun though- he thought as he opened up the door of an old classroom and dove inside.

Looking around he wasn't too sure where he was. It looked like every other classroom. Except this one clearly hadn't been used for some time. Years, maybe. Moth-eaten chairs slumped, folded against the walls. The tables were coated in a blanket of dust. It was like it had been paralysed in time. Still- the room felt strange- almost like he'd been there before. Looking around the room- he spotted something in the corner. A mirror; he had been here before!

The same mirror that when he had looked into the glass in the first year, it'd shown himself as head boy, and quidditch captain. All the things eleven year old Ron had wanted, beyond childish desires like chocolate frogs. Though he supposed what he had seen back then was childish too, wanting to beat his siblings, wanting to be the favourite child. He hoped, by now, he'd gotten over whatever it was inside of him that felt he wasn't enough. The part that made him jealous of Harry- even though he knew that Harry's life was far from easy. There was only one way to find out. Ron took a deep breath and turned to face the mirror.

It was- normal. His reflection. Ron didn't really believe that could be it, that he could be contempt as he was. Taking a closer look he noticed a few things: his face looked older and he had slight smile lines, which were prominent in the grin the reflection wore. He was wearing robes that were not the uniform and there was a ring on his ring finger. He was married? He must be.

As if the mirror had heard Ron's question inside his head, his reflection began to shift. Now, next to him stood- Zabini; holding his hand.

Well, in hindsight, he didn't know what else he would have expected. It would have been a lie to say that he was over Blaise already, he knew that. ....But still- at the root of it all, was he really what Ron wanted more than anything else? It was different than wanting to date him, Ron hadn't just seen them dating. He'd seen them married, he'd seen himself happy. Happy with Blaise.

But for now, at least, the reflection would have to stay just that- a reflection. Blaise didn't want him and he had to accept that. Only now he realised it'd take him longer than expected.