AN: As I'm sure you've noticed, I've been a bit behind in my postings. These things happen when life rears its demanding head. I appreciate your patience and well, I do the best I can, but I don't spend my entire day writing. I'm a teacher, I'm a wife, I'm a mother, I'm a renovator, I'm a packer and soon enough I'll also be a mover.

I'm not one to beg for readers or reviews, and I'm not going to start now. However, if you are going to review? For the love of God, leave the nastiness elsewhere. There's no need for it.

I'm sure there will be a bit of confusion in this chapter and I'm not going to splay out my poker hand for all to see. I like to retain a bit of mystery, but be assured, I have intensive and copious notes. Everything will be explained...eventually. And for you word worriers? This chapter was just over 5k words before the author's note. ;)

As always...enjoy. *kisses*

The Disappearing Act

Blaise Zabini was quite proud of himself. It wasn't often one could say they managed to procure information from an unwilling Malfoy. In fact, he was quite certain such a thing had never occurred in the history of man. He would have beaten his chest like a Muggle, but he was much too refined for such things.

Of course, it taken an exceedingly patient wizard, and Blaise was just the man for the job. It had also taken copious amounts of firewhiskey, but he wasn't about to admit to such things. It was his little secret, as it seemed Draco Malfoy wouldn't be remembering much of anything once he managed to wake from his stupor.

After Malfoy had angrily stormed away, it taken Blaise more than a few minutes to nonchalantly jaunt around the exterior of the cottage, desperately searching for an entrance. He made a mental note to never leave his wand anywhere else but his slacks pocket, ever again. Eventually, he discovered an open window and crawled through it, albeit with a bit of struggle, before landing in an undignified heap.

He ventured from room to room looking for his mate, but coming up empty-handed. He discovered his wand on the floor near the hearth and grunted in appreciation. He shoved it into his back pocket and listened carefully for the slightest sound. Blaise finally wandered into the quaint kitchen and discovered Draco bent over the sink basin, splashing cold water onto his face.

"Draco…"

"Take it back, Blaise." Draco's head hung low, droplets falling from his cheeks and Blaise wasn't positive it was all water.

"I don't…"

"YOU TAKE IT BACK!" Draco screamed, the veins in his throat throbbing before he punched the wall.

He didn't flinch and Blaise wasn't sure the man could feel an ounce of pain. He'd never seen Draco in such a state. It wasn't as though he had been friends with the man prior to the War. In fact, they had avoided each other, truth to told. Draco believed Blaise to be a self-serving pompous arse and Blaise believed the same.

"I'm not in love with her." Draco's strangled words struck a chord with Blaise and he didn't know how to respond.

"I'd like to tell you, I believe you." Blaise snatched Draco's bleeding hand, inspected his knuckles, and waved his wand with a quick Healing Spell.

"I don't." Draco slammed his palms onto the edge of the counter space and Blaise simply waited. "It was a moment, one fucking moment. What kind of person loves another from one fucking moment? It's absurd." Draco yanked open a cupboard, effectively ripping the door from its hinges as he reached for a bottle of firewhiskey.

"I've never had strong feelings for anyone, not even my mother. I'm not exactly the right person to help you out here, Malfoy. However, I am fairly certain it wasn't a singular moment that got you caught up in her." Blaise's fingers itched as he watched the bottle drift to and from Draco's parted lips, desperate for a sip.

Draco's lip curled and he slammed the bottle into Blaise Zabini's chest. The Italian wizard's first inclination was to be angry his shirt was now wet, but he decided the end result was worth the inconvenience. He searched the kitchen for a glass, but it seemed Draco had smashed all of them in a fit of anger. Blaise shrugged, taking a long gulp, before gently setting the bottle down.

"Why can't any of this be easy? I don't know how I feel about anything, but I don't feel what I think I should feel for Astoria, especially if I'm going to marry her." Draco dragged his feet into the sitting room, swinging the bottle he'd snatched and flounced onto the sofa with a scowl.

"Malfoy, who fucking cares about feelings? Arranged marriages are part of your fucking society. I doubt your parents were in love…"

"Actually they were. My father courted her, proper even. My mother loved to regale me with stories of her early relationship with Father when I was a small child. They encouraged me to do the same with Astoria, and I tried for a bit, but she talks too much." Draco propped his feet on the table with a smirk Blaise tried to decipher but failed.

"I don't think that's it at all. I think you finally noticed Tori and Granger have a similarity about them. Don't fucking growl at me like a beast. I'm not talking personality wise, Granger's not even in the same class as Tori, I'm talking physically. They're practically the same height and since Granger stopped doing whatever hideous thing she used to do to her hair…"

"Her mother did it." Draco's eyes widened as he realised he'd broken Granger's trust, for the first time in his life. "You can't tell anyone. Her mum was…I mean…Granger was…it's a Muggle thing. Her mum curled her hair and lightened it." Draco exhaled shakily, thankful he hadn't spilled the entire truth.

"You're not telling me everything and I don't even care, imagine that. As I was saying, their hair, their body shape, though Granger's tits are a bit bigger. Ow! Stop hitting me! What the fuck is your problem?!" Draco had launched himself off the sofa, smashing into Blaise, sending them both sprawling onto the hardwood.

"Don't talk about her like that." Draco hissed, clamping his teeth together while resisting the urge to pummel his friend into oblivion.

"You have issues you fucking son of a bitch and the sooner you suss your shit out, the better off you'll be." Blaise shoved the prone Draco Malfoy off his chest and spat a mouthful of blood onto the pristine floor.

"I can't bloody do that now can I? I've got to marry bloody Astoria before the Yule holiday, which if you remember is approximately two months away. I'd give you an exact number of days if I hadn't spent the past week completely pissed." Draco rolled onto this back and stared at the water spot on the ceiling.

"Fifty five days until Yule. Don't look at me like that, the only reason I know is because Tori was prattling on and on about gifts and she hasn't the slightest idea what it is you'd like."

"Death…that could be a lovely gift."

After Blaise left Draco slumbering on his tatty sofa, he Apparated to an alley in Muggle London. It wasn't his favourite place, but it was free of the constrictions of the Wizarding World. It was easy to blend in with the shabby Muggles, as long as he remembered to keep his wand hidden.

It was Hermione's fault he'd ever discovered the peace in blending with Muggles. Blaise hadn't been friends with her when they attended Hogwarts, but they'd been friendly. He knew it was her idea when Draco tentatively sought him out. He supposed befriending the witch was just as much for him as it was for Draco.

Blaise grumbled under his breath, strolling casually through a play area for children, when he spotted Hermione stepping out from behind a nearby building. Shrugging, he followed her, his Slytherin curiosity getting the best of him. Blaise supposed he should have called out to her, but then she stepped into the most curious place he'd ever seen.

He knew Muggles had to do something with their deceased loved ones, but he'd never put much thought into it before. Being he was a wizard, he was quite used to families having their own personal burial grounds. He'd never seen such a large expanse of perfectly good land filled with headstones marking the graves of the dead.

Blaise observed Hermione casually walking through the paths, until she escaped his eye passed a thicket of shrubberies. Deciding it was best not to intrude, but unable to quench his curiosity, he Disillusioned himself and stood behind a particularly large tree. He held his breath when Hermione stopped between two gray headstones.

She brushed the dirt from the tops and casually shoved the fallen leaves aside before easily sitting between them. She twisted a piece of her dark hair, which caused Blaise to wonder if she missed her unruly curls. When she covered her face, he was tempted to walk away, but then Hermione began to speak.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited. I know it's a silly little Muggle tradition, but I'd never forget where I came from. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry I ever sent you away. I was so worried about you being caught up in a war, I never expected either of you to succumb to something so….ordinary afterwards." Blaise shifted, uncomfortable as Hermione wiped her cheeks angrily.

"I don't know what to do. I wish you were here. I know you were never particularly fond of my magic, and all it entailed and I never blamed you for that. You didn't understand, but you tried." Hermione sidled up to the nearest headstone, resting her cheek against its frigidity. Her hand stroked the words and while Blaise wasn't quite close enough to read the small lettering, he knew they said "Granger".

"I saw Malfoy the other day. I've been seeing him a lot lately. I'm not sure if it's planned or accidental and I don't even care. Dad, remember when you told me he must fancy me quite a bit to go to such lengths to make me angry? I thought Mum's head was fit to burst. I know you never liked Ron, but even after all the things I'd told you Malfoy had done, you never spoke disparagingly of him. I miss him. It truly was amazing how quickly we became friends. I'm glad I listened to you Dad. I'm glad I gave him a chance, but at the same time, I wish I hadn't. He really paid attention. It would have been intimidating if it were anyone else. Harry and Ron were so horrid when I told them we were friends, well that's not true, Ron more than anything. I swear I can hear you laughing. I'd never known you to dislike anyone as intensely as you disliked Ron."

"He wants to marry me, but I…I can't do it. I care about him, but I don't want to have red haired children who eat with their mouths open. I don't love him enough. I remember Mum telling me that once. She said Ron needed the sort of woman who would worship him and I would never be the sort. She wasn't wrong, I'm just stubborn. I've always been stubborn and look where its got me." Hermione covered her face with her glove clad fingers and sobbed for a moment.

"Malfoy's getting married." Hermione spoke so quietly, Blaise had to strain in order to hear her. "I don't expect I'll be invited, considering I'm sure Lucius still wishes I never existed. At least I won't have to watch it. There's a fair bit of consolation in that. I don't think I could manage. I know you were always hopeful something would happen between us, Dad. I never should have told you he kissed me. I remember you shouting 'I knew it' until Mum finally smacked you about the head." Hermione laughed through her tears and Blaise grinned in triumph.

"Thank you for adopting me. Thank you for curling my hair, even though I hated it, because you so desperately wanted me to look like you. Thank you teaching me to accept myself exactly as I am. Thank you for making me a Muggle-born witch, even though I'm not, because I would never have forged the relationships I have otherwise. It taught me to be stronger than I thought I could be. Mum, I'm glad Dad is with you now. I'm glad you're not alone. If you happen to see my birth mother, tell her I forgive her. I love you and I'll visit soon." Hermione struggled to her knees and with a final pat the gray stone, she stumbled down the path.

Blaise Zabini struggled with the freshly gleaned information. He waited until Hermione was a few steps from him and removed the Charm. She gasped, covering her mouth with both hands, her honey eyes red-rimmed and wide.

"What are you…how did you…why are…" Hermione took a shaky breath and studied the olive skinned wizard with quizzical eyes. "How much did you hear?" She finally sighed, completely resigned.

Blaise seriously considered lying for a moment, in order to protect her dignity before deciding against it. Their friendship was beyond such platitudes. He remained silent, allowing his silence to speak for itself and observed Hermione's shoulders sag.

"Care for a cuppa? It's a bit nippy." Blaise offered warily, searching for the first signs to indicate her flight.

"I suppose that's our best recourse." Hermione accepted the offered arm and allowed Blaise to lead her toward a small bistro in a relatively deserted area.

Blaise Zabini chuckled with mirth, practically skipping down the cobblestone of Diagon Alley. He slipped into Flourish & Blotts simply to peruse their selection of new releases. Hastily, he held a periodical in front of his recognisable face when Draco and Astoria ambled past.

He'd avoided Malfoy to the best of his ability since taking tea with Hermione, but it was getting difficult. Blaise knew he wouldn't be able to keep her secrets if he met with Draco, and he was determined to keep his word, thankful she hadn't forced a Vow. He cursed lightly, drawing the attention of two wrinkled witches who glowered at him.

The last thing Blaise needed to see was Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley walking toward Draco and Astoria. He knew it was the perfect opportunity, but he wasn't quite ready. When Blaise had told Draco to leave everything in his capable hands, he had meant it. However, he also hadn't the slightest idea how he would rectify the situation.

He had considered broaching the subject with Hermione, but knowing her stubborn nature and their recent talks, it wasn't an option. It wasn't that Hermione was afraid of Lucius Malfoy, she wasn't, but she would willingly forego her happiness for Draco Malfoy. It wasn't just him though, she'd do it for anyone because that's what selfless little Gryffindors did, which made Blaise ever so thankful he would always be a Slytherin.

"Fuck it." Blaise muttered as he slinked out of the shop.

He made his way toward the Weasley twins joke shop, blending in with a sudden surge of witches and wizards wandering about Diagon Alley. He knew exactly what he needed, but getting the twins to allow him the purchase was another matter entirely. Blaise supposed he could tempt them with the idea of wrecking a bit of havoc, but he was wary just the same.

"Zabini. I didn't know you had a sense of humour." Fred Weasley's narrowed eyes kept careful watch, expecting a bit of trouble, but Blaise ambled directly to the counter.

"I don't, but I know you've got exactly what I need." Blaise smiled. He removed his generous money pouch and plunked it on the counter.

"Tempting. What do you want then? I'm not agreeing, I'm simply willing to hear you out, which is more than George would do."

"You never tire of those one eared jabs, do ya?" Blaise shook his head, jingling the coins from his purse with a slow smile.

"Never! Course if it weren't for Malfoy, I wouldn't be making them at all, so I hope you aren't planning anything nefarious. I mean, I'd probably still help you, I just wouldn't like it." Fred winked and before Blaise knew it, Fred had wandered to the front of the shop and flipped the sign on the door to 'closed'.

"Wait, are you talking about the War?" Blaise furrowed his dark brows, suddenly confused.

"Well yeah, I mean I wouldn't call it the War necessarily, more like the Final Battle, course we didn't know it was the Final Battle then but…" Fred shuffled back behind the counter, uncomfortable with the turn of conversation.

Blaise realised Fred had drastically changed. He wasn't the exuberant jokester he once was and Blaise Zabini's interest was piqued. He'd naturally assumed the effects of the Wizarding Ward had altered Fred, but he wasn't privy to the details and Blaise did love details. He'd easily discovered all truths were in the details, which was what made him the perfect Slytherin.

"What did Malfoy do?" The slightest bit of guilt piqued his conscience, but it quickly passed when Fred Weasley's eyes lit with excitement.

"You really want to know? I mean, I'm not supposed to speak of it, even George refuses to hear of it but if you really want to know…"

"Why wouldn't I? Draco and I are friends, good friends really and he doesn't speak much of the War either. It's as if its become this horrid little secret and everyone keeps their thoughts on the matter to themselves, which is mind boggling really. I mean, how are any of you lot supposed to move forward if you can't face the past? I didn't fight in the War at all, I didn't pick a side, so I can't pretend I understand the ramifications of actually casting spells causing injury and death, but I'm quite good friends with Hermione Granger, so I have a general idea." Blaise had lowered his voice into a menacing sort of hiss, despite the lack of customers as he leaned onto the counter separating them.

"You know then? I mean about Malfoy and Hermione? It was quite the little scandal." Fred wiggled his ginger eyebrows and Blaise was fairly certain he had uncovered not only yet another well-kept secret, but also an accomplice.

"I do believe we should indulge in libation if we're going to have a bit of gossip. It's not as if we can chatter over tea…"

"Surely not, we're not…women." Fred grimaced, feigning a shudder of revulsion.

"Tell you what, how about you give me a bit of that Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder and then we'll go for drinks until we're both in our cups." Blaise tossed Fred his pouch of coins and held his breath.

"What do you want that for?" Fred was wary once more, his thin frame stiffening with distrust.

"It's nothing Dark, I swear it. It's simply a matter of setting things right." Blaise shrugged and while he wasn't completely sure he was telling the truth, he wasn't exactly lying either.

Fred carefully considered the tanned wizard's words. He wanted nothing more than to drink himself into oblivion and recount moments his family didn't wish to discuss. He knew they didn't wish to be beholden to Draco Malfoy, but Fred didn't care about such things. He was alive and grateful. Fred wished his family felt the same, vaguely wondering how they would feel if he had died.

"No ones going to be injured are they? I can't allow that…"

"Weasley, you've become quite distrustful. Can't say as I blame you. Find me a willing little wizard and you can help. You might actually enjoy yourself." Blaise smiled, knowing Fred wouldn't be able to resist.

Fred Weasley nodded and disappeared into the backroom. Blaise tapped his fingers impatiently, hoping the unlikely foursome hadn't resorted to blows when Fred returned. Blaise held his breath, quite pleased to see Fred leading a grubby little boy by the hand.

"This here is Elliot. He has a tendency to skulk about in the alley. His dad is pretty useless, so I give him odd jobs now and then for a few Knuts…"

"Me dad died last year. Ain't no account anyways. Mum works her fingers to the bone. I only doos stuff for you sose I can eat." The boy named Elliot scowled while attempting to free himself, but Fred held tight.

Blaise stared hard at the dirty little boy, bits and pieces of his childhood determined to make a reappearance. He nodded curtly, resisting the urge to wipe the smudges of dirt from the boy's cheeks. Instead, he reached into the pocket of his black slacks and retrieved a few coins. He listened hard as the boy's breath caught in his throat, just before his stomach growled.

"El, why didn't you tell me it got that bad?" Fred was used to seeing the boy rumpled and skittish rather than downright filthy and obviously starving.

"It ain't. Me mum ain't been back for a bit, but I'm alright. Is better than when me dad was 'round. Don't get cuffed nearly as much." Elliot smiled, quite pleased with himself and it was then Blaise noticed the lack of front teeth.

"How old are you?" Blaise cleared his throat, ignoring the questioning eyes of Fred.

"Seven. In four years? I gets to go to Hogwarts and I hears they have loads of food." Elliot sighed dreamily, stars dancing in his dark blue eyes and it just about broke their hearts.

"How would you like to do a little job for me?" Blaise inquired quietly, his thoughts leaping ahead.

"How much?" Elliot tried to scratch his head, but his fingers caught in his light brown curls and Fred was forced to disentangle the boy.

"Five galleons." It was more than a fair price, as Blaise hadn't intended to offer more than a few Sickles, but seeing Elliot had changed everything.

"Five galleons?! You serious? You not takin the piss?" Elliot looked up to Fred, waiting for his visions of pumpkin pasties to be ground into dust. "D'ya think ol' Tom would let me eat there? He shouts at me cuz I never had two Knuts to rub together, but…but if I showed him the galleons, he'd hafta wouldn't he?"

"Don't you worry about Tom, Elliot. Zabini and I will take care of it." Fred almost wished George were present to lighten the mood, suddenly remembering he was off with Angelina and scowling.

"What've I gotta do then?" Blaise pretended to be oblivious to the toe peaking through the top of Elliot's tatty shoe and carefully explained his hasty plan.

Fred led Elliot to the backroom when Blaise decided to step out for a moment of fresh air. He smiled grandly, forgetting for to remain hidden from prying eyes. His dark eyes widened when he spied Draco and Hermione against the picture window of Flourish & Blotts. He quickly spun on his heel, weaving between two comely witches and stepped into a darkened alcove.

Blaise was rethinking his half arsed plan, when Draco linked his fingers with Hermione's. The relief fluttering in his chest was welcome, even when Fred and little Elliot frightened him with their silent arrival. He clutched his chest, sagging against the door of a little shop, tempted to check the state of his trousers.

"You sure this will work?"

"No, but I practiced on cats if that helps."

"Did it work?"

"Yeah, it was fu-bloody hilarious." Blaise coughed, more with embarrassment than anything else and gestured toward Draco. "See that really pale blond bloke? I want you to take that powder Fred gave you and toss it at his feet."

"Is it going to hurt them?" Elliot whispered, clinging to the warmth as he was wedged between the two wizards.

"Absolutely not. That pale fellow is my mate, my best mate I suppose you could say and he fancies the girl beside him." Elliot peered around Blaise Zabini's waist and squinted his eyes.

"He's holdin' her hand, so what's the problem eh? D'ya want her for yerself?"

"Merlin no. He's supposed to marry the other girl, by the great big red buffoon."

"They look alike, sisters almost. Whatchu wanna do then? I don't mind tossin' at them and all, I'd just like to know." Elliot was quite enjoying being included in very adult schemes, and he didn't relish the idea of returning to his cold, dark shack.

"We're going to play a riveting game of Switch the Witch." Blaise and Fred chuckled lightly and while Elliot didn't exactly understand the implications, he smiled just the same. "I'm going to make myself invisible so I can go with you. It's not because I don't trust you, so don't fret. I've simply got to cast a spell and I'll need to be close to them."

Elliot nodded slowly, yet the distrust was almost palpable in his dark blue eyes. Blaise winked and grasped Elliot's hand. He opened the tight little fist and unfurled it slowly. He thought the poor kid's eyes were going to burst from his head when Blaise gently placed five galleons in Elliot's palm and closed his fist.

"I've never touched a galleon before." Elliot whispered, stroking the coins with reverence.

"Stick with us kid, you'll touch plenty. Promise." Fred ruffled the boy's filthy hair without a grimace, though he did wipe his hand on the back of his slacks.

"I run over there, throw the magic dirt on the ground by the blond bloke and then what?"

"Run straight back here as fast as you. You won't make it before it's dark, but I'll call for you." Fred squatted beside Elliot, wishing he had taken more of an interest in the boy, but determined to rectify the situation. "I'll take you to meet my mum. She won't let you leave until you're so full of delicious foods you won't be able to move for a week."

"Promise?" Blaise was afraid the boy would cry and his heart couldn't take much more.

"You don't have to do it. I suppose I could do it myself."

"No! I'll do it! I'll do it right now!" Fred was positive Elliot was adamant due to the number of galleons safely tucked in his pocket, but he didn't have a chance to even entertain the idea of discussing it with Blaise.

Elliot spun on his heel and darted into the throng of witches of wizards. Blaise cussed under his breath, yet with a quick wave of his wand, he was Disillusioned and chasing after a small dirty boy. He bumped into a hunched old wizard, but it wasn't as if the man could see him anyway.

Blaise skidded to a stop, waving his arms in order to avoid crashing into Ron Weasley. His breathing was heavy but with the bustle around them, it wasn't noticeable. He held his wand carefully, studying Astoria and Hermione's positions as Elliot gave the group an impish sort of smile and tossed the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder to the ground.

"What the bloody hell?!" Ron Weasley shouted, obviously angry, but what else was new?

"It'll pass, just stay where you are." Draco's lazy drawl carried across the terrified shrieks and shouts.

"That little bastard…" Ron growled and while his first inclination should have been to immediately make his way toward Hermione, he remained still.

Astoria Greengrass clung to his arm and it didn't bother him quite as much as he thought it should. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of Hermione locked in the pitch black with Draco Malfoy, but as he couldn't see the hand in front of his face, there was nothing he could do but remain calm.

Ron attempted to keep Astoria calm, awkwardly patting her back as she whimpered. He was vaguely aware of Malfoy whispering, but it was difficult to make out the words with the sounds of crying children surrounding them. Hermione, he realised wasn't saying a word, which wasn't like her at all and make his hackles rise in suspicion. Ron might not have been the brightest wizard, but he was well aware of the fact, Hermione's feelings were waning and it didn't sit well with him at all. He opened his mouth to shout over to her, but he was thumped on the back of his neck and crumpled to the ground without a word.

"What the fuck? Get off me!" Draco Malfoy shouted as he was torn away from Hermione Granger and tossed in an unceremonious heap onto the ground.

"Switch the witch
Two by two,
Just their face,
Not body too.
Make them real,
Make it right,
Their true loves eyes
Will give them sight."

Draco struggled to place the whispered voice, knowing the familiarity wasn't a figment of his imagination. He attempted to stand, wobbling on his knees, still surrounded in a black haze. He coughed, covering his mouth quickly and gave up. Draco Malfoy crawled along the cobblestone, determined to make his way back to Granger.

He sighed in relief, the aching, pounding in his chest slowly ebbing when his fingers caught on her hair. He knew it was her, it had to be her. Draco struggled with her unconscious form, fear bubbling in his chest when he realised she wasn't responding. He didn't know who had struck him, he could only fervently wish nothing untoward had happened to her.

He managed to prop himself against the harsh stone and yank the witch onto his lap. Draco carefully cradled her head and buried his nose in her hair. He was soothed by her gentle exhales, the lingering mint on her breath, and the clinging scent of lavender from her hair products.

He hated his future. He hated the idea of every carefully laid plan being predetermined before he was even born. He hated not standing up to his father and the idea his inheritance meant more to him than anything else, because it didn't. It was only galleons, millions of galleons, but galleons just the same. They didn't make him feel the way she did, and so Draco Malfoy closed his eyes, clinging to the moments where he was still allowed to hold Hermione Granger while she slept.