A/N: Hey there! I'm so sorry I didn't update for a while, one of my relatives just died so I had to go for their funeral. So here's your Christmas update (unfortunately it has nothing to do with Christmas as we're about three weeks into term so the Christmassy chapters should be happening at the least Christmassy bits!) and your New Year's update! HAPPY 2015 everyone!
Title: Moondance
Author: hpjkrowling4ever
Chapter Ten
Furiously brushing his hair away from his eyes, Harry looked harder at the Potions textbook in front of him, all the while glancing across the rows at Blaise Zabini, the inconspicuous Slytherin wreathed with rumours. He would be the easiest Slytherin to talk to, if only he managed to catch him on time.
Professor Slughorn was at the back of the class, talking to some unlucky Gryffindor, probably Neville, who had gained the reputation as Hogwarts' worst potioneer. Harry folded up his instructions, to the horrified glance of Hermione, wrote his note to Zabini, muttered a useful charm, which transfigured it into a pen and then muttered Zabini's name. The transfigured piece of paper zipped over to Zabini, who glanced at it in surprise and shock before picking it up. It immediately transfigured back into a note, and Zabini hid it in his textbook as Slughorn turned to the front of the class again.
"Right, everyone, another five minutes and we'll see who succeeded in making their potions."
Harry glanced ruefully and Ron and then at his potion, which resembled thick black goop, not the black-and-silver shiny substance it was supposed to be. Hermione's was too silver but they both knew that Slughorn would be quite satisfied and that she or Malfoy would as per usual have the best potions. Glancing back at Zabini, Harry saw him give a sidelong glance towards him and give a short, curt nod. Smiling, Harry turned back to his potion to try to salvage what he possibly could in the next four minutes.
"You better have a damn good reason for bringing me here, Potter." Blaise Zabini stood, haughty and elegant in his tailored robes, and looked incredibly sophisticated surrounded by the shining lights of the Trophy Room.
"I do, actually, Zabini. I want to know what Malfoy's planning."
"I wasn't aware you had any interest in Malfoy, Potter. Last time I checked you two were trying to get as far away from each other as possible." Zabini sneered at Harry, who sighed. Even Zabini's sneer was polished and perfect.
"I would like to know why Malfoy challenged Hermione to a duel."
"Blunt, aren't we, Potter?" Zabini sat down on a chair, every single one of his movements graceful and made to look purposeful. Harry was starting to feel like Zabini was turning the tables and turning the interrogation to his advantage.
"Answer me, Zabini, and we can forget all about this encounter."
"On the contrary, being summoned by the Chosen One, it's such an honour. Why would I ever forget this encounter?" A raised eyebrow in Harry's direction accompanied Zabini's sarcastic comment.
"Zabini, you and I both know who Malfoy is and what power lies behind him. I don't know if you're part of the Death Eater to be circles –somehow I doubt you are. You're the most inconspicuous Slytherin I've ever met in my life, and no one knows much about you. You're part of the same social circles as Malfoy but I've never in my life seen you talk to him. I'm not here to waste my time with pleasantries, Zabini, and you've got better stuff to do than to be talking to be, I know that. Let's cut the chase and I'd appreciate it if you answered my question."
"Ah, but Potter, see here. You want this information, which you think I have. To get this, you're going to have to answer my questions. Fair deal, don't you think?"
Harry ground his teeth but summoned a chair and sat down facing Zabini, who flashed him a triumphant smile.
"I knew you'd come round to see my way, Potter. Do tell me how your charming girlfriend is doing nowadays."
"Luna is fine, thank you, Zabini." Harry glared furiously at the Slytherin, who now had complete mastery of the interrogation.
"I gather you've heard of Malfoy's…ah…how do you put it? Orders concerning Lovegood?"
"Yes, thank you, Zabini, I have."
"Good, good." Zabini paused. "Why did you choose to interrogate me in particular Potter?"
Harry was perfectly polite.
"I thought I had told you."
"Please do repeat yourself."
"I know next to nothing about you, Zabini, except that you have a number of stepfathers-" Harry cut himself off and grinned widely and the disgruntled-looking Slytherin, "And for a Slytherin, you stay remarkably out of sight."
"Not all Slytherins are interested in you, Potter. I do hope you are aware of this." Zabini sneered again, his aristocratic face lifted up and the snub was clear.
"That is exactly why I am interested in you. Not for selfish reasons, Zabini. I would much rather the whole world didn't take a breath every time I decided to walk down to Hogsmeade." Harry himself sneered at the thought of reporters, and a look of surprise crossed Zabini's face. Harry spotted it. "I am human, Zabini. And for my flaws and my mistakes to be painted into a much larger picture by the press is not very desirable. I do not like my fame, though admittedly it does get me to places. No, the reason I wanted to talk to you is because you have never taken part in Malfoy's Harry-baiting exercises. You have never deigned to glance at me or talk to me and this is what makes you, in my eyes at least, neutral territory."
Zabini moved on his chair and suddenly he was leaning forward, looking interested and for once, not detached.
"The press are cruel, aren't they, Potter? They take a simple sentence, twist it, gouge it and squeeze all of the life out of it and turn it into a monster." Zabini stood up and walked over to Harry, who looked up in immense surprise. "I apologise for my lack of manners. My name is Blaise Zabini, pleased to make your acquaintance."
Having a small grasp on pureblood manners due to a lecture from Hermione, Harry stood up and took Zabini's hand.
"The pleasure is all mine. My name is Harry Potter, pleased to make your acquaintance. You may call me Harry."
"You may call me Blaise." He grinned at Harry and Harry was shocked to see how his eyes lit up and how he changed completely from an aloof, aristocratic teenager to a good-looking, smiling young man. "My mother and I have been ripped apart too many times by the press for us not to feel some compassion for someone who has the same plight."
"You are quick to trust, Blaise." The name felt unfamiliar on Harry's lips –after having the same friends for so long, Harry was unused to making new ones. It was a nice feeling, but the thought that Blaise was a Slytherin lurked at the back of his mind.
"I am not." He looked mildly offended, and pulled his chair closer to Harry's. They both sat down. "I do not trust Malfoy, for example, or most of my dorm mates. I sleep with wards around my bed and on all my things. I would trust no one in Slytherin with anything of mine, however small. You, however, were willing to trust me with whatever information on Malfoy I had –and anyone Rita Skeeter lays her dirty fingernails on is worth my trust. What was it you wanted to know about Malfoy?"
"Why he duelled with Hermione."
Blaise leant back in his seat and took a deep breath.
"These are dark times, Harry. Dark times, and Slytherin is in the darkest of them all. Malfoy rules Slytherin with an iron fist and he squeezes anyone who dares to oppose Slytherin's darkness. However, recently, Malfoy has not been updating his powerful leadership and I realised that something was wrong. He became obsessed with Hogwarts' history, all the secret places it has and sometimes disappears for hours and hours on end and doesn't come to the dormitory until past midnight –his cronies covering for his absence and all of the others too scared to report it." Blaise sighed. "Then one day he came into the Common Room, which was more lively than it had ever been before because Malfoy was lowering his vigilance, and he announced to everyone that he was going to take on Granger in a duel and that he was going to beat her." Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise, and Blaise chuckled, a deep, rich sound. "Don't be alarmed, Malfoy does things like that all the time. This one, however, seemed quite harebrained and I followed Malfoy out. I asked him what in Merlin's name he was thinking.
"Are you an idiot or are you just being foolish?" Blaise chased after Malfoy, whose robes were billowing around him in a fair imitation of Professor Snape. Crabbe and Goyle started to block Blaise's path, but Malfoy flicked a finger and they moved aside. Blaise started walking next to Malfoy. "Answer me! Are you mad, chasing after Granger with a half-baked plan?"
"With all due respects, Heir Zabini," Malfoy referred to Blaise in the politest, stiffest pureblooded address. He barely deigned to glance at Blaise –after all, in the pecking order; Blaise was only part of the Most Noble House of Zabini, not the Ancient and Most Noble House of Zabini. "What I do is no concern of yours."
Blaise, realising that he was being snubbed, reverted to his pureblood manners. He matched Malfoy's stride perfectly, and his perfectly tailored robes billowed around him just as Malfoy's were doing. Blaise knew that socially his line was not as ancient as Malfoy's, but that in the Slytherin pecking order, Blaise had fought for his place as second-in-command viciously. It granted him certain immunity without having to have anything to do with Malfoy.
"Heir Malfoy, acting with your House's welfare in order, I was wondering if I may inquire upon the nature of your plans concerning your upcoming challenge to Miss Granger?"
"She is a mudblood and does not deserve to have any title attached to her name. I expected better of you, Heir Zabini." Malfoy deigned to glance in distaste at Blaise, who swallowed and made an effort to grovel further, however much he despised it.
"My most sincerest apologies go towards you for my mishap, Heir Malfoy. It was a slip of the tongue, having just had a conversation with the half-blood Miss Yioryean in the Common Room."
Malfoy did not look convinced, but Blaise's argument was sound and one Malfoy had used before, and therefore he could not fault it. He knew that Blaise had the upper hand now, and he despised that. Blaise was a master manipulator and the brains of Slytherin. No one challenged Blaise to a verbal battle except Malfoy, who always lost but in the most polite way that nobody could possibly fault Blaise.
"Your question is intrusive." Blaise mumbled his apologies again, but did not move back a few inches from beside Malfoy's side, as it was polite to do in pureblood society –to walk a few inches behind someone of higher rank. "However, I cannot fault you for caring sincerely about the welfare of the House, which I hold in the deepest and most immense regards. The Mudblood, Granger, is close enough to that Half-Blood, Potter, who is on close terms with the Lovegood Heir, Luna. Heir Lovegood is the object of my most gracious and honourable Father's attentions. The Quibbler is a valuable, yet trashy, magazine necessary to advance the Dark Lord's cause."
"The Dark Lord is immensely lucky to have such loyal followers, Heir Malfoy." Blaise loathed the Dark Lord.
"Therefore, I must ask the Mudblood to give me information on Heir Lovegood's preferences, so that I might send her gifts to try and lure her away from the Half-Blood. This way, I can show Father just how proud he should be of his son and heir and that I am worthy to the Malfoy Fortune and Title."
"You are, Heir Malfoy." Blaise said, smiling and lying through his teeth.
"You can understand what an issue this is going to pose to Granger."
"I'm interested –" Harry looked curiously at Blaise. "You don't seem like that normal Slytherin, obsessed with blood purity and Lord Voldemort."
Blaise gave the perfunctory shiver but otherwise he looked unconcerned.
"My mother taught me the necessary pureblood values to bring me up correctly, don't get me wrong, but she was quite liberal and told me that my instincts will get me to the top, not titles or money. Though Merlin knows I've got enough money." He sighed. "Contrary to popular belief, my mother has not killed all her husbands for their money. Admittedly they were all absurdly rich and my mother has a whole tray of titles at her disposal now." He rose to his feet. "But that is for another time."
Harry rose to his feet and searched for the proper pureblood parting phrase. Blaise chuckled.
"I was impressed at your greeting, but your parting words seem to be lost."
"My apologies, Hermione only taught Ron and I the basics. I must brush up with Luna, who most likely knows them all."
"Hang on to Lovegood, Harry. Malfoy won't stop at a chance to destroy her."
"I plan to."
"It was a pleasure to make your alliance, Mr. Potter. I will enjoy further altercations." Blaise smirked and shook Harry's hand, the latter looking a bit lost.
"Right, thanks. We'll do that then."
Just before leaving the trophy room, Blaise turned to look at Harry again.
"Slytherin's a minefield of traps. Let me navigate you through them."
A/N: Thank you for putting up with such a long break! I managed to grab some time today to write this, apologies if it's a tad rushed. I'm sorry if I've offended anyone in this chapter, I had to emphasise the pureblood culture. Any questions or criticisms please review but make them constructive as well; I dislike simple criticisms with nothing constructive in them. If you don't like my story, don't review, I will know you didn't like it!
I've always been really interested in Blaise Zabini, and I think that Harry's going to need some sort of ally in Slytherin. And I genuinely feel sorry for Slytherin and Hufflepuff. I swear they're always picked on, and for goodness' sake, every house has its characteristics, though Slytherin's is particularly nasty to some.
As usual, please review, favourite or follow, they're all much appreciated! I'll try and reply to any questions and I enjoy reading what you say.
hpjkrowling4ever