The Secret

Part One: Pretense

Chapter Four

By: dee-dee142


Stupid. That was the only word that went through Hermione's head. For the smartest witch at Hogwarts she was immensely dense and so very naïve.

A death eater, all the clues were there and she still believed the lying Slytherin.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Hermione mumbled. Dizziness overtook her and she suddenly felt unnaturally heavy. What was happening?

Zabini moved and she gripped her wand, trying her best to focus on the wizard. He slowly pulled himself up, his gaze intently on the floor.

Pathetic, lying-

"Hermione-"

"It's Granger, to you!" The pounding in her head became louder, unbearable even.

"Look let me explain-"

"Explain what? How you led me here to ambush me? To kill me? You can try. I've fought bigger and stronger things then you Zabini!." The witch said as calmly as she could. "How long have you been in the business, Zabini? Three months? A week? You can't even handle the pain of the mark!" The louder she yelled the faster her surroundings grew murky. Was his mother even dead? Did he actually leave Hogwarts early because his mother passed away? Or was he just getting initiated.

"Hermione look, I'm not- I don't-" He hissed in pain, looking accusingly at his mark. His eyes then found hers for the first time and she watched as they widened then flashed with concern.

"You look horrible, Granger. Why don't you sit down-" He walked toward her and she lifted her wand lazily.

"Do. Not. Touch. Me." she breathed out. A large wail rang in her ears and she gasped in pain, reaching to cover her ears and dropping both wands on the floor in front of her.

"I have to go…. But please don't go anywhere! Stay here and I promise I'll explain everything when I get back. Just… don't go, please!" He picked up his wand, his movements slow in her mind, then ran down the hall. The click of the door was the last thing she heard before darkness consumed her.


When Hermione awoke she was lying in the kitchen floor. Her body trembled against the cold marble. She slowly sat up, feeling for her wand in the darkness and found it a few inches away. She grabbed it with cold hands and performed a quick warming charm over her body. With a groan she pulled herself up. She used the support of the wooden cabinets, resting her head back and tried to make sense of the last twenty-four hours.

It was hard to believe that just a week ago she was calmly sitting at the Gryffindor table, eating pie and talking happily with her friends. Now, she was being held captive in a haunted manor, previously owned my her biological parents. She had no idea how to get home since she never asked how'd he do it.

Not that she could ask him now. Not that she would ask in now.

Blaise Zabini was a Death Eater.

How? And most importantly, why?

It was easy for her to sit across the Slytherin table and pick out who was or could become a Death Eater. Never would she assume Blaise Zabini would be one to hold the mark. He was hardly confrontational, always in the background and never drew attention to himself.

Then again, no one ever assumed Barty Crouch Junior would become a Death Eater and he turned out to be a murdering psychopath.

Hermione frowned. But Blaise Zabini wasn't Barty Crouch. She looked into his eyes. He was sane. He was emotional. He knew loss. He knew what pain was. She saw it in his eyes whenever he talked about his mum.

Still a Death Eater.

Hermione let out a frustrated grunt. She still wanted the answers. A large part of her wanted to stay, wait for Zabini and listen to what he had to say. The image of Alexandros and Mya Cantrell was permanently stitched into her mind-she couldn't just walk away and ignore the fact that the physical similarities between them was there. Blaise had Mr. Cantrell's eyes-a mesmerizing hazel that shined when he smiled and beautiful facial structures from Mya Cantrell. There was no denying that Blaise Zabini was their child...hell, he looked more like the couple then she did.

...Maybe...Hermione stopped, cringing at her own thoughts…Maybe…

He was a death eater… yet, when he took his wand he hadn't killed her nor did he try. She'd seen the expression on his face, he look in his eyes-confusion, honesty, sincerity, and concern… Was he that good of an actor? Was he fooling her or telling the truth?

She was certain of one thing; she wanted answers. She needed to know more. But Harry's voice quickly came into her head. Never trust a Slytherin, he had said only days all of them really be the same? Untrustworthy? A part of her wanted to believe Zabini couldn't harm her. That he wouldn't harm her. That he was on her side and that the mark was just her imagination.

In the distance, Hermione heard the loud thud of the outer gates closing again and knew he had returned. She reached for her neck, expecting her locket to be gone and partially surprised to find it around her neck. How did he get back in? She tried to apparate again, but it didn't work.

Hermione heard the click of the front door opening and quickly left the chaotic kitchen and hid in the dark shadows of the halls.

Blaise remained in his spot for a few seconds, then moved around the kitchen. Hermione slowly eased off the wall and quietly walked through the dark hallway. She hadn't bothered to light up her wand, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She turned a corner and tripped over something, falling hard on her side.

"Ah!" She cried as low as possible. The witch felt her head and winced when she came in contact to blood.

"Mistress Cantrell?" Called a squeaky voice. Hermione looked through her teary eyes and was met with the big gray eyes of a house elf. She took out her wand and illuminated it. A clean, white pillow case went over his little body. The small creature's eyes seemed to drag down his face appearing as ovals, not golf balls that she remembered Dobby had.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked quietly. The elf took a step back and then bowed.

"Billy was ordered to get you Ms. Cantrell. If you want to leave, Billy takes you home. Billy has been serving this family for as long as he can remember." Hermione found her strength and quickly stood up before the elf.

"What did you say your name was?" Hermione asked timidly.

"Billy, miss." Why hadn't he come before? She looked at him suspiciously.

"How am I to know you can be trusted?"

The elf looked appalled. "Billy will never betray the Cantrell family. Billy-"

Hermione heard loud footsteps somewhere near and she crouched down to the elf's level. "Billy, I need to get out of here. I would like to go home. Do you know who the Grangers are?"

The elf nodded his head vigorously. "Billy understands. Billy knows how you can get home."

"Lead the way." The pair took off down the hall in a rush, Hermione practically ran to catch up with Billy. They passed many doors and portraits. One door was open and she caught sight of many scrolls. Many where nailed to the wall and others sat on shelves. She promised herself she would go in there someday. But not today. Today she wanted to get home as soon as possible. She wanted to go back to a world where the Grangers were the only family she had and Zabini was as far away from her as possible.

"Here we are." They stopped in front of a blank portrait.

"Beyond the portrait is the Portkey Room. Miss must enter and she will be home." The elf poked Hermione in the side and she stumbled forward. She gave the elf a wary look. "Are you sure?" The elf nodded its bald head and took a step back giving her more space.

"See you soon Mistress Cantrell."

When Hermione climbed through the door, Billy closed it behind her. She ended up in a dark room, even with her illuminated wand there wasn't much to see; just four walls-no portkey in sight. She touched the walls just to find them as cold as ice

"Help!" Hermione screamed. Her voice only echoed. Suddenly she felt a strong force pulling her at the arm. She kicked and shoved but it wouldn't let go. The thing just held on tighter. All of a sudden, she felt the similar sensation of being sucked in through a tube.


Her eyes met grass. Hermione groaned and rolled on her back. The moon and stars stared back at her and the morning hue of the slowly rising sun hinting in the corners. She took in her surroundings and recognized them immediately-she was back at the park near her home! Hermione sat up and slowly stood on her feet. Examining the arm that pushed and pulled her and found it bruised.

A million questions were ran through her mind but they all stopped when her locket started heating up on her chest. She took it off and put it in her pocket. She was home, she didn't need the Cantrell's anymore. They could wait. She needed to see her parents. With that in mind, she began her march back to the Granger home.

But as she neared it, she heard yelling.

A couple people ran past her, in their sleeping attire, a look of horror stretched over their faces.

"Run! Someone call the police!"

With sudden hurried footsteps, she began to panic. What is going on? She saw a young woman running her way and stopped her. Her heart beating loudly against her chest.

"Can you tell me what's wrong please? I live just around the way." Hermione asked her quickly.

The woman had big tears running down her face, a trembling dog held tightly to her chest "T-t-there's a big fire at the house just around the corner. It's just h-h-horrible. The fire is spreading. You need to go!" The woman grabbed her arm in an attempt to steer her in the opposite direction. But Hermione snatched her arm out of her grip, running toward the fire. Her chest tightened against her chest, not wanting to believe-NO!

"Wher-where, are you going?! You must go the-" The girl called after her. There was no way—there was—

She ran past the police officers who were trying to lead people away, before turning the corner and stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes wide in horror.

The Fiendfyre curse engulfed her home in angry whips of fire, setting ablaze everything that was within its reach. Reaching and grappling for any form of life, greedily destroying everything in its path.

She held her wand tightly inhand; bruised arm forgotten, her mind set on going into the fire and rescuing her parents. She stepped toward the ragging fire, only to be held back by the same force that she felt back in the small room in the Cantrell manor that led her home. It pushed and tugged at her arm no matter how hard she fought back. Before getting sucked into it she caught sight of the dark mark right above her childhood home.


Blaise was surprised when upon opening the locket, he landed on the dead lawn just outside the manor. The lockets must've unlocked and dismantled most of the protective wards, he deduced. The Dark Lord himself could waltz right into the Cantrell manor should he suddenly get an urge... Blaise grimaced at the thought.

He wondered how long it had been since anyone else stepped foot on the property. According the the little information he found, it seemed like the ministry wasn't able to claim nor sell any of the Cantrell estates.

Then again, you can't claim anything you don't have access to.

And access to the historical Cantrell Manor was something he did in fact have because he was an heir. He was-is a Cantrell. Blaise frowned. And he wasn't the only one. There was another living and breathing Cantrell. His twin. Hermione Granger.

Hermione 'Know-It-All-Harry-Potter's-Best-Friend-And-Muggleborn' Granger.

Well, not so muggleborn anymore.

The thought of Hermione Granger actually being a pureblood and a part of a royal wizarding family wasn't a very foreign thought, come to think of it. If he were being honest with himself, Granger being a pureblood was a lot more believable then the thought of him, Blaise Zabini, being the son of a Alexandros Cantrell who was once known for his intellect, braveness and heart.

Bloody Gryffindors.

If Mr. Cantrell were alive he would've been proud...of Granger. She was was brave. She had grace. And, she was good. And he-he was-

Blaise scratched at his marked forearm. He wasn't summoned often. He could count in less then one hand how often he actually came face to face with the Dark Lord within the year of joining the Death Eaters. Being personally summoned was not only excruciating physically, but it also came with fearful anxiety since it meant coming face to face with a man who would kill you just for breathing to loud.

Surprisingly, the Dark Lord actually inquired on how he was dealing with the 'sudden' death of his mother. Of course it was not out of concern-more mockingly. He made a joke that she would be missed since her handle with men was so... noteworthy. A subtle attack on his mother's morals that had the few death eaters present, laughing.

Blaise answered honestly and said he missed her singing. He was then ordered to sniff out Order trails on the outskirts of London. In all, it was an odd request and unnecessary summoning, but Blaise was happy to be out of his presence. They were celebrating and one thing Blaise had learned since becoming a death eater was that it was best to steer clear of dark wizards when they were that happy.

He went right back to the manor hoping Granger was still there. She looked very sick before he left, as if she was in the same pain that he was in, so he hoped she didn't try to apparate in that condition. There was a lot he had to explain and he hoped she didn't give up on him...atleast, not yet.

Blaise entered the manor quickly yet quietly, racing past the the blood bath in the foyer. He felt it, death, just as Granger did but didn't know what to make of it. Finding the death eater mask amongst the rubble earlier that day sent a different kind of pain through his body-one that started in his heart as he realized that he had become the person that his biological family was running from. He became the person that murdered his biological parents.

There was so many questions left unanswered. So many questions he wished his mother could've provided him before she died. He only hoped Granger would stick by him long enough to figure some things out.

When he entered the kitchen, he wasn't very surprised to find it empty. Blaise frowned, thinking Hermione was long gone but then he heard scuffling. She was still there. "Granger." He called, turning back to the halls and following the noise down the hall. The sun had completely settled so the manor was even creeper than before. "Granger!" he called again.

"Master Cantrell?"

Blaise whipped around, his wand pointed at the space between the golf-ball sized eyes of a house-elf.

"Who are you?" Blaise asked him suspiciously. "Usually house elves usually leave the family it's bonded to when the last of their lines dies."

"But you is alive, master. You have returned." The elf attempted to smile, but his eyes were full of tears. "I is Billy. House elf to the Noble and Honorable House of Cantrell."

Blaise's eyes widened, "You've been here all this time."

The elf, Billy, shook his head. "No, master."

Blaise shook his head. This could wait. "H-have you seen a girl her? She-we came together. She's my-my-"

"You sister. Yes master. Billy took mistress to the Granger Household." The elf paused. "Would you like to leave as well?"

Blaise stared down at the elf. Did he want to leave? For the first time in a long time he had hope. Was he just going to let it go?

"Billy take me to the Granger household." He said, surprising even himself.

Billy nodded. "Of course master."

Blaise followed the elf to the manor's Portkey Room. A Portkey room was rare, he'd only ever seen one in the Malfoy Manor before the Ministry found it and removed the magic when he and Draco were just nine years old. He was amazed to see one, vibrating with magic. Blaise climbed into a portrait hole of pure darkness, trusting the elf to set the correct destination as he closed the portrait behind him. He stood in silence, waiting for the magic to do its job. On the other side of the portrait, there was a loud shout that didn't belong to the voice of an elf.


Blaise barely had a moment to think about the voice that called out to him, for as soon as he landed his Dark Mark prickled against his arm.

His hand tightened around his wand. Something was very wrong. Where did that damn elf lead him? He didn't spot any muggle houses. He made out a swing and slide set from the street lights. The sun was close to rising but the sky was still dark.

In the distance he heard a loud blaring alarm and decided to follow it. When he rounded a corner he found a swarm of muggles in their sleeping garments. The noise was coming from various muggle automobiles he remembered studying in his Muggles Studies class. Revolving blue lights flashed from the top of the car like a spell emitting from a wand. There were some people yelling but more people crying. He disillusioned himself, although he didn't think any of the muggles would notice him in the midst of all the havoc.

There was a distinct yet familiar underlining noise and the more he focused on it, the louder it became. Like roaring wind. Then he smelt it.

Fire and Burning flesh.

Fiendfyre

Blaise pushed through the muggles, and turned another corner to find the source of the noise and smell. A muggle house was engulfed with the flames of the curse, raging and seeking more life to take. The Dark Mark floating right above, a contrasting green against the violative red and yellows. Could the muggles see it? Why'd the elf lead him there? Did Billy expect him to save the people stuck in the burning home?

Blaise withdrew his focus from the flames and that's he spotted it-her. Granger at the edge of the fire. With her shoulders back, arm out stretched and a steady wand on the fire. Why would she think she could possibly take down the curse!? Blaise growled under his breath. Bloody Gryffindors.

Still under the disillusionment charm, he ran up and grabbed her arm to side-along. She punched and kicked and screamed to the point that he had to stupefy her. Focusing on the Cantrell Manor, he apparated there. It took a second too long and he felt it-the magic being rejected. Someone must've put the wards back on the house! Next to him, Granger convulsed, breaking the stupefied spell then screamed in pain. Then, the magic shift again and redirected him until they finally landed.

Blaise groaned as his back hit the ground. He opened his eyes to see that they were back at the park he landed in just moments ago. Granger landed next to him, her skin sickly pale and large red blotches of red went up and down her wand arm. Was she burned from the fire? Or was she splinched? Thinking quickly, Blaise muttered a spell to the close the open wounds then ripped off some grass and transfigured it into a cloth bandage to wrap it around her arm.

Sitting back on his heels, Blaise stared at her face for a few seconds then at the bandage and then at his own hands, not feeling very much like himself. He wondered if this was how Potter felt...all the time.

He pulled the Cantrell locket around Granger's neck, not even sure if it'll work, but he opened her locket anyway.

"Isobelle Mya Cantrell." Blaise shouted into it. Surprisingly, he felt the pull. The locket transported the both of them and Blaise landed on ground with a another groan.

"This heroic bullshit is not for me." He mumbled angrily as he stared at the closed gray wall. Why were the wards back up? How? He wondered. Blaise plugged the lockets where they belonged then levitated Hermione next to him as the large gate opened.

When he turned around he almost dropped the witch, for there, just beyond the gates stood Alexandros Bryant Cantrell and he was very much alive.