Chapter 1

Sixth year had started out with a bang, to say the least. I was sitting in compartment C, next to an insufferable Gryffindor who, in normal standards of pig-headedness, has not ceased talking about himself proudly. Slughorn, I noted smugly, was glancing away after every other word, looking towards the door in an unmistakable effort to end the conversation. Only once had Slughorn attempted to start a conversation with me, which I brushed off kindly, not wishing to talk of my mother. Again.

Suddenly, Slughorn's face lit up as two figures filled the doorway. Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom, in the flesh. My face remained impassive as they surveyed the room, both of their eyes lit up as they observed Ginny Weasley in the corner.

"Harry, m'boy!" Slughorn yelled, jumping up and greeting Longbottom as well, who looked terrified. Slughorn gestured them to sit in the only empty chairs left in the already full compartment, the most volume of which taken up by Slughorn's massive girth.

Slughorn took the time to introduce Potter and Neville to the rest of the occupants, as a Slytherin I merely ignored the introduction and they didn't seem to mind much. Soon enough, Slughorn began passing around pheasant, all the while making chit chat about his own digestive preferences and introducing the students that he considered 'important' to the other favored ones.

I watched as Belby, a lower class Ravenclaw whom I've seen in the library, was interrogated.

"Do you see much of your uncle, Marcus?"

The pheasant he had just taken a bite of suddenly caught in his throat and he began to choke. I glanced over at Slughorn, fingers wrapped around my wand under the table. But, coolly, Slughorn cleared his airway and I relaxed.

"Not much of him, no."

I tuned out for the rest of the interrogation. I had already known what I suspected, that we were only here for their pedigree and birth. Not in the way that most Slytherins valued pedigree, but because of their, or their parents', accomplishments.

Next to me, Cormac talked on and on about his heritage, the things he did with them, and ways to make these insignificant acquaintances seem worldlier. But, even he had to eventually cease talking and Slughorn turned to me.

"So, Blaise, how is your lovely mother?"

I felt Cormac next to me snigger and resisted the urge to hex him, discrete as my mother had taught me.

"She is doing well, sir." I waited for the barrage of questions and wasn't disappointed.

"And she's still with Blakely? I hear he was working with the Minister on a new project…"

Inwardly, I winced. He hadn't lasted as long as some of the others. But it had been the first English man in years. "No, sir. He's not with us anymore…" I had thought that his time in St. Mungo's had been well documented in the Prophet. I noted Slughorn's brow furrowed and briefly hoped that this was the end of my invitations to Slughorn's gatherings.

"I suppose your mother's bank vault benefited from that one…" He pondered aloud, his eyes getting a faraway look to it. McLaggen, an annoyance once more, stifled a laugh. Silently, I flicked my wand in his direction and, with pleasure, noticed the uncomfortable look on his face as the rash began to spread, starting at his knees and working its way up. He wouldn't laugh about that in the morning, when the pustules would appear.

"We don't discuss matters of a… financial manner." Slughorn looked away and seemed uncomfortable with my short answers.

"So, this was her fifth marriage? I heard she was in the Witch Weekly…"

"It's her seventh," I muttered, trying not to talk about her foray into the public eye. That was after Ivan had fallen ill and was an uncomfortable time for me. I noticed Potter shift uncomfortably and look out the compartment window.

Slughorn nodded and narrowed his eyes, before he, inevitably, began asking about the deaths of Ivan and Blakely, leading towards the suspect motive. My answers began to grow shorter and shorter, daring Slughorn to say what he wanted. But, he thankfully moved on to Longbottom, who squirmed and stammered through the questions as best as he could. Truly Hufflepuff, really. Considering his true house, it wasn't much worse.

"And now," Slughorn said, his stomach quivering with glee as he turned towards Potter, "Harry Potter! Where to begin? I feel I barely scratched the surface when we met over the summer!" Interesting, meeting up with professor's over the break. It seems Cormac wasn't the only Gryffindor who considered networking an important summer activity. " 'The Chosen One,' they're calling you now."

I stared at him and did my best not to retch.

"Of course, there have been rumors for years…. I remember when – well- after that terrible night – Lily – James – and you survived – and the word was that you must have powers beyond the ordinary –" The outright appearance of Slughorn's wish to gain valuable contact was too much for me to bear, I had to suppress my laughter with a poorly disguised cough.

Suddenly, the Weasley girl burst out loudly, "Yeah, Zabini, because you're so talented…at posing!"

"Oh, dear." Slughorn said uncomfortable as she looked around Slughorn's mass.

"You want to be careful, Blaise! I saw this young lady perform the most marvelous Bat-Bogey Hex as I was passing her carriage! I wouldn't cross her!"

I had hear as much about her skills, but kept a hateful look on my face, in light of the large crowd around us. Slughorn quickly turned the subject back to Harry before slowly meandering the topic back to himself and the great witches and wizards he had met throughout his life. It was a very drab conversation and only the very pressed student offered any reciprocation in the conversation. Luckily, Slughorn was just happy enough to talk about himself.

Until, blissfully, the sun began to set and they were dismissed, "Good gracious, it's getting dark already! I didn't notice they'd lit the lamps." I was sure everyone else had noted the lighting as I had, "You'd better go and change into your robes, all of you. McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on nogtails. Harry, Blaise – any time you're passing. Same goes for you, miss! Well, off you go, off you go!"

I was most interested in leaving the cramped compartment and pushed past Potter, tossing the Gryffindor the common glare, which he returned, and walked off towards my compartment. I could hear their footsteps behind me but was too far away to hear their muttered conversation.

Without even looking behind me, I breezed into my compartment, and turned to close the door. I hadn't really been expecting it, but the door jammed on its tracks as I attempted to close it. The anger I had been feeling all day erupted inside me. "What's wrong with this thing?" I harshly spat, as I pulled the door back and tried again, after several more attempts, the door getting caught in the same location each time, I was tossed backwards as the door jerked away from my grip.

Now, one thing you learn when growing up surrounded by magical objects, one expects inanimate objects to often times have minds of their own, but I was caught completely unaware and toppled on top of Goyle's lap.

"Oi, ge' off me!" Goyle called out, pummeling my back and sides with his fists in weak blows. Gasping, I flailed until Goyle closed the door and pushed me off of him. I fell onto my seat in a sour mood whilst everyone resumed their normal activities.

"So, Zabini, what did Slughorn want?"

I wasn't finished glaring at Goyle as I answered Draco, "Just trying to make up to well-connected people," My hatred intensified as I imagine the people Slughorn had thought would make him more impressive, "Not that he managed to find many."

Malfoy's face contorted in anger, "Who else had he invited?"

"McLaggen from Gryffindor."

"Oh yeah, his uncle's big in the Ministry," Malfoy said. Thankfully McLaggen had talked so much that I could have told Malfoy that. But, I didn't want to think very long on his lengthy speeches about himself. I continued to list the attendees and each time Malfoy had something to say.

"He invited Longbottom?" He hissed, somehow unable to comprehend his presence on Earth.

"Well, I assume so, as Longbottom was there," I said, thinking about everything she had said of him and the others. I kept my face impassive as I thought.

"What's Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?" I barely registered his question, so I merely shrugged.

"And Potter, precious Potter, obviously he wanted a look at 'the Chosen One'," he sneered, "but that Weasley girl! What's so special about her?"

"A lot of boys like her," Pansy explained, "Even you think she's good looking, don't you, Blaise, and we all know how hard you are to please!" She crowed. Always, they tested me.

"I wouldn't touch a filthy little blood traitor like her whatever she looked like," I mechanically answered. My cool exterior always helped me.

"Well, I pity Slughorn's taste," Draco began in a long winded, pompous speech. I had to stop him. "…probably hasn't hear I'm on the train, or –"

"I wouldn't bank on an invitation. He asked me about Nott's father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he'd been caught at the Ministry he didn't look happy, and Nott didn't get an invitation, did he? I don't think Slughorn's interested in Death Eaters," I would lie if I said I didn't have a smug satisfaction in saying this to Draco. As I had hoped, he looked upset but let out a cold laugh.

"Well, who cares what he's interested in? What is he, when you come down to it? Just some stupid teacher. I mean, I might not even be at Hogwarts next year, what's it matter to me if some fat old has-been likes me or not?"

Whatever Draco was implying, I knew it was what I had expected all of these years. Something he never trusted to say around me.

"What do you mean, you might not be at Hogwarts next year?" Pansy asked. Apparently I wasn't the only one who wasn't completely trusted around here.

Malfoy smirked, and I knew this was his big reveal. The questioning continued as Draco side-stepped the obvious. I couldn't help my look of curiosity, though I knew that's what he wanted.

"Do you mean – Him?" Pansy sometimes had more courage than half of a pack of Gryffindorks.

Malfoy shrugged and began to ramble about his mother. I oftentimes had trouble listening to his ranting.

"And you think you'll be able to do something for him?" I asked, not able to contain my skepticism. "Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?"

"I've just said, haven't I? Maybe he doesn't care if I'm qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn't something that you need to be qualified for." Crabbe and Goyle, useless as always, looked at him in awe and Pansy was giving him the same nauseating look of devotion that always made me think that she'd start some sort of cult religion based on the blond-haired boy.

"I can see Hogwarts," Draco said, pointing out the window. "We'd better get our robes on." So, we did. Personally, I couldn't wait to get inside of the castle once and for all. When the train halted, Goyle threw the door open and gave me a contemptuous look of self satisfaction before plowing is way through the corridor – it was the reason we kept him around, after all. I followed without once looking back, only concerned about finding a carriage to the school.

The cluster of students only added to my impatience as I saw flashes of blonde in the crowd, maybe a brief glance of what could have been her face. All I know, is that sitting through the Sorting was the longest process I had ever dealt with before. I picked at my dinner, unable to eat over Draco's smug retelling of who he had discovered on the luggage rack on the train.

He had gotten the motions down to a science. Even the reappearance of Potter was of no concern to him.

"Of course they wouldn't let the train depart without Potter being located," Draco explained to his fans, "But I hope they enjoyed the spectacle as much as I had."

Eventually, Dumbledore stood up to give his customary speech and the students fell silent as they saw the twisted and mangled hand that he soon covered with his colorful robe's sleeve. And then, he introduced our new potion's master. I had, of course, known it would be Slughorn as he had been far too excited to keep to himself when I had been the first to arrive in the compartment on the train, but he had asked me to keep it quiet for his 'big reveal.' When Snape had been confirmed as the new DADA professor, the Slytherin table all clapped and cheered, hopefully, they all thought, the old git would lighten up if he wasn't teaching a subject where explosions wasn't a large part of the day.

When Dumbledore began speaking of Voldemort, Draco began to hover his fork above his plate, trying hard to appear non-interested as the entire school, in shifts, turned to stare at the Slytherin table.

"I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain sage…" The rest of his speech was focused on the safety of the students, before he sent everyone to bed. No matter how tight the safety precautions were, though, I could not bring myself to return to my dorm.

Instead, I took the familiar and winding path through the castle to my favorite place in all of the world.

When I reached the top of the Astronomy Tower, I was winded by the climb, but I could hear a familiar pattering on the stones through the door. When I pushed open the door, I saw the familiar cascade of blonde hair and the startled face that always made my heart stop.

"Oh, hello! You're late. Watch out for the yurizzles, though! They've been flying around rather quickly."

I smiled and closed the door. Finally, this is what it felt like to be home.