A/N: I'm baacck! Though I've always suspected myself to be a badass, I now have the BA degree to prove it! Lol. Just had to say that. So I am going to do my best to get this story fully edited by the end of summer. I am also changing around some of the genre, realizing that what I had does not fully fit it.

In this chapter, I have added a flashback to young Bailey and Blaise, which got me thinking-if there is anything from Bailey's 1st-4th year that you are just dying to see, PM me or leave it in the reviews! I'm thinking of starting up a series of oneshots if anyone is interested.

Read and review!

"Are you sure that dress isn't too casual?" Amelia said as Bailey twisted and turned, studying herself in the mirror. That night was Slughorn's first "little dinner party" for his Slug Club.

"The only reason you think that it's not because it's no floor-length ball gown with white opera gloves," Bailey said in a scoffing tone. "But, I would like to be able to sit comfortably this evenin'."

She was wearing a knee-length black dress with one long sleeve clinging tight to her left arm. It was sparkly and sleek, and overall not really Amelia's style. It was "too muggle" for the red-haired witch. But, Bailey did not necessarily want to draw attention to herself by looking like a "pretty, pretty princess" in something with bounce and frills like Amelia would have put her in.

"Well, at least borrow some of my jewelry," Amelia said, pulling a few pieces from her jewelry box. She motioned for Bailey to move her long hair out of the way and clasped a silver chain necklace with an opal stone pendant around her neck before handing her a pair of matching earrings. They were beautiful and extravagant, something Bailey had once only been able to dream of wearing. Amelia stepped back to admire her handiwork. "Now, are you certain I can't lend you one of my dresses?"

"Yes, 'Melia," Bailey sighed exasperatedly. Amelia held up her hands as if in defense.

"Alright, just checking," Amelia said, then took in Bailey's full reflection in the mirror before giggling daintily. "Blaise will have a very hard time keeping his hands to himself tonight."

Bailey felt her face heat up. Of course, I can lie straight-faced to Mum about where I've been, but one little comment like that… she shook her head at herself before turning to her friend.

"Firstly, I am not tryin' to accomplish tha'. I 'ave a boyfriend," Bailey said, her accent coming out stronger in her annoyance. "Secondly, I 'ighly doubt Blaise thinks o' me like tha', an' even if 'e did—"

"Firstly, diction Minerva Bailey Ann," Amelia said, cutting her off with a twinkle in her eye. Bailey glared at her friend. "I worked too hard on you last year for you to forget my lessons at a little embarrassment. And secondly, I do believe Blaise has thought that way about you ever since your Petrification second year... he was just so utterly lost without you… and then at the Yule Ball, in that gorgeous dress, looking like you were a lady and not just a greasy Potioneer… and then at the Malfoys' last year, and you danced and danced all night…"

Bailey threw a pillow at Amelia's head, while the redhead continued to cackle.

"Oh look at the time, I have to go. So sorry we can't continue discussing your delusions," Bailey said as sarcastically as she possibly could manage. "Me mum could probably prescribe a course o' treatment for those, you know."

Amelia, still giggling, followed behind Bailey as she made her way down the stairs and to the Common Room. Blaise was waiting for her at the entrance to the girls' dorms. His eyes seemed to widen for a moment before being schooled beneath a mask of Slytherin suaveness (of course, this just made Amelia giggle all the more).

"You look wonderful, though I must ask, did you slip something in Amelia's pumpkin juice?" he said, taking in their still giggly friend.

"No, the incest in her family tree must have finally caught up with her and sent her down the path to insanity," Bailey replied dryly. She felt a sharp kick from Amelia, while Blaise let out a very un-gentlemanly snort of laughter. "You look nice yourself. You ought to wear dress robes more often."

It was only polite to compliment him as he had her, after all. And they were quite a nice cut, staying tight to his toned muscles and setting off his dark eyes gorgeously… She shook herself out of her reverie

He gave her a gentle smile then offered her his arm, which she laced her hand through, and the two made their way to the entrance hole.

"Behave yourselves!" Amelia called cheekily. Bailey groaned.

It was uncertain which irritated Bailey more—the not-so-subtle exchange of galleons between her fellow Slytherins at the party when they saw herself and Blaise walk in arm in arm together or her godbrother's even less subtle raised eyebrows as they took their seats next to each other. Or, it could have even been the fact that Slughorn had seated her between Blaise and Harry.

"So, you and Zabini? Not that I'm surprised, but what about George?" Harry whispered in her ear. "Do I need to make a protective brother speech to him? Did he break up with you?"

"No, you do not, little brother," Bailey retorted irritably. "And, even though it is none of your business, George and I are still dating, and Blaise and I are here only as friends—much like you and Granger, I hope."

"But—"

"One more word, Potter, and I will hit you with a flatulence hex so strong that you will never be able to show your face in polite society again," she said with a perfect smile as she passed Blaise the butter for his dinner roll. She heard him give a snort, but firmly ignored him. "Are we clear, brother dear?"

"Perfectly," Harry replied, still with that infuriating smirk.

"You owe me," she muttered to Blaise.

"Most impressive, Lady Black," he replied, ignoring her with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Though it does wound my pride to see you so vehemently deny any existence of a… what do the kids call it… a spark between us."

"Blaise, we have already discussed this, I am with George—"

"I know, darling, I am tea—"

"Now, have you been introduced, I hope?" Slughorn said, suddenly appearing behind her. "I do believe you would make quite the handsome couple."

"I hope, Professor, you are not speaking of Mr. Zabini and I—"

"Of course not!" Slughorn chuckled. Bailey sent a triumphant look to Blaise. "I was meaning you and Mr. Potter!"

Bailey gaped like a fish for a few moments, while Harry began to choke on the piece of fruit he had just bitten into. Quickly, Bailey regained her footing, putting all of Narcissa Malfoy's and Amelia's lessons to good use.

"I am currently seeing someone," Bailey said evenly. "But, I do not believe we have been properly introduced, though we have run into each other here and there throughout the years. After all, it's hard not to know the Chosen One."

Harry stomped her foot beneath the table. She smirked at him.

"Well, allow me to right that wrong and formally introduce you two. Harry, m'boy, this is the last direct heir of the line of Black—"

Not quite, Bailey thought derisively.

"—Lady Minerva Black.

"Please, just call me Lady Bailey, Mr. Potter," she said, holding out a hand imperiously for Harry to take and kiss. She heard Blaise choking on his drink behind her as Harry glared.

"My pleasure," Harry ground out. She stared him down until he grabbed her hand somewhat harshly and kissed it for the briefest of moments.

"Now, is it true that you've been officially made Lady of the House of Black and inherited you father's home and lands?" Slughorn continued. Bailey felt her face drain of color, but she managed to keep her composure, even with Blaise's and Harry's surprised gazes on her.

"Yes, I just received the titles this week," she said carefully.

"Well, congratulations my dear!" Slughorn boomed before carrying on to make more advantageous introductions.

"You have Grimmauld Place now?" Harry said immediately. "What—why—how? I thought the Ministry had banned you from it! Some rot about being too closely associated with Malfoy!"

"Technically, I am associated with the Malfoys—"

"Don't remind me," he mumbled sullenly.

"Shut it. And never you mind about it. I just thank Merlin that it happened before Mum—" she stopped herself short. She wasn't sure that her mum yet wanted Harry in on the new 'bundle of joy', and even if she did, Bailey would not want that information to leak into the wrong hands.

"Before Tilly what?"

"Never you mind."

She was sure that Harry would have continued further, if not for the appearance of a certain redhead, for whom he quickly stood to his feet. Bailey smirked at her godbrother, who did not sit until Ginerva Weasley had found her own spot on the opposite side of the table. Harry kept looking towards the girl and then back down at his plate, blushing a horrendous shade of maroon.

"What was that all about?" she whispered smirking.

"What? You're the one who gave me that Wizarding etiquette book!"

"You didn't stand for me. And I am a lady who outranks you," she pushed, wishing to see him squirm. She had sixteen years of sisterliness to make up for.

"Shutup."

Bailey snickered, turning to Blaise, who looked fairly amused himself.

"So Potter and the Weaslette? Could've seen that about a thousand miles away."

Bailey covered her giggles with a dainty hand, trying to concentrate more fully on the dinner party conversation. She had to admire the way that Slughorn seemed to be grooming his favorites to repay him in the future—no wonder he had been able to retire so comfortably on a teacher's pension before. His students seemed to take care of him completely, all indebted to him a thousand times over for the connections he managed to forge.

All of that, however, that didn't make her want to stay any longer than society and etiquette dictated, especially when she noticed Harry lingering behind. Slughorn's matchmaking was not something she was in the mood for. So, as soon as was appropriate, she and Blaise made their goodbyes and quick exits.

They had barely made it back into the dungeons proper when Blaise yanked her into one of the hidden alcoves.

"Merlin, Zabini, you're gonna cause even more people to win their galleons tonight," she growled, rubbing her left arm where he had grabbed her. It was rather sore.

"How did you get the deeds to your father's house? I was fairly certain that you weren't able to. You said not even Dumbledore could help you," Blaise said suspiciously, his face screwed up in concern.

"I said not even Dumbledore would help."

"Semantics, Bailey."

"Not in my book."

At Blaise's motioning, Bailey huffed and tried to answer his question as vaguely as possible.

"I called in some favors," Bailey lied easily. Too easily. Blaise seemed to become more worried. She could not look him in the eye; she hated lying to him, the boy who had always stood by her side.

The little girl walked back into the Slytherin common room after a long, two-month absence nervously. There were whispers all around her. Wherever she looked, students closed ranks, making it obvious that she was not welcome to sit with them. The lying Mudblood was not accepted here.

"Bailey!" a boy's voice shouted. She suddenly found herself crushed to the chest of a twelve year old boy. She wrinkled her nose a bit; he had yet to master the subtle art of cologne. "Thank Merlin you're back!"

"Yeh—yeh aren' mad at me?" she said slowly.

"Well, of course I am, wandering about like that was stupid with the monster on the loose, but I'd imagine you've probably been punished enough, what with being Petrified and all—"

"But—but—I lied to you! Yeh should hate me!" she exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. Then she slumped. "All o' the rest o' 'em do."

"They don't hate you—not really," he said. "They just don't… trust you. They'll be mad for a while, and ignore you, but they'll get over it."

"Oh," she said softly, rubbing her arms. "But yeh're not ignorin' me. Why?"

Blaise shifted from foot to foot. "Well… you're sorta my best friend. I can't be that angry with you for too long. Especially now that you're safe."

"Bails, have you done something that you might regret?" he asked uncomfortably, rubbing his hands along her arms to make her stay still, to look at him. The soothing action, which usually would have worked, made Bailey feel almost sick to her stomach. He shouldn't be treating her like that.

"I've done wha' I 'ad to do. Nothing more, nothing less," she said.

Blaise's hands stopped ghosting up and down her arms, instead grasping her firmly. "Bailey, you know you don't need to have done something stupid—me and 'Melia can help you, protect you, lend you money—whatever you need us to do. We're your friends—we'll keep each other safe through this war."

Bailey sighed, knowing she'd never be able to escape this conversation without giving up at least one secret. "Blaise, my mum is pregnant."

He seemed to freeze. "With your fath—"

"Yes," Bailey said shortly, and without warning, she felt pinpricks at the back of her eyes. Before she could do or say any more, Blaise pulled her close to his chest, allowing her a moment to simply grieve, to be a child again. She shook against him, completely soaking his robes and likely ruining them with her mascara, but he did not seem to care, focusing on simply comforting his friend.

Years later, when Bailey would reminisce on this darkest time of her life, she would always say that Blaise had been her savior.