Chapter 9
Harry was walking down the train, looking for Hermione. She not returned to the compartment yet, and he was starting get worried about her.
"Harry!"
The boy in question back-tracked, and smiled when he saw the face of Neville Longbottom. He was sharing a compartment with two Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff, but Harry couldn't remember their names, if he had even known them to begin with.
"How goes it, Neville?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe with a smile.
The rotund boy had grown up a lot over the past couple of years, especially after the incursion to the Department of Mysteries. He had petitioned Dumbledore to allow him to continue the DA, thinking it would be a good idea to teach students advanced defensive magic, and all comers were welcome. Most students who joined were sixth and seventh years.
As he stood there sharing idle chatter with Neville, he noticed one of the girls in the cabin shooting him discreet glances, and he smiled at her, causing a blush to break out on her cheeks. Before he could say anything, however, he was bowled over by another body.
"Why don't you watch where you're going you scarred freak!"
Oh great, Parkinson, he thought bitterly. She's the last person I wanted to see.
"I was just standing there, so I'm pretty sure that it's not my fault," he muttered as he grabbed her arms to push her off.
His blood froze as he accidentally pushed up the sleeve on her left arm, exposing the mark tattooed on her skin.
She sucked in a harsh breath, causing his eyes to connect with hers, and his heart ached at the fear he saw there. She stood and backed away down the hall, opposite the direction Harry had come from. "Please…" she whispered, her voice sounding pained to his ears. Her eyes darted to the open compartment he was standing next to, and he knew Neville and the other occupants were watching them in curiosity.
He also knew what she was asking, but he couldn't keep something like this to himself.
"I'm sorry…" he replied, his voice weak, his face regretful.
She broke into tears at his response, and she shook her head in denial. "I HATE YOU!" she screamed before running down the hall.
"Parkinson, wait," Harry called after her, suddenly feeling guilty. But it was too late. She was already out of the car and running to the area of the train the Slytherins normally occupied.
"Wow, that was really heartfelt, Potter."
Harry turned to the source of the voice and groaned. What is this, send every possible Slytherin to torment me day?
"Hello, Zabini," he grumbled, resigning to the fact that this was going to be a very long day.
"Hello, Mr. Wonderful," the black-haired Slytherin retorted, causing the black-haired Gryffindor to blink in confusion. "I see you have an impressive way with the fairer sex," he smiled sinisterly. Harry involuntarily gulped, suddenly feeling like the canary being sized up by the cat. "Just take a glance at your recent providence with them," he continued. "You made a pretty little snake cry, the littlest Weasel won't even look your way anymore, and your pet beaver is expecting," he said with a wink.
The boy-who-lived immediately felt like killing the sneering boy in front of him. He felt the blood rise to his face as Zabini walked past him and paused, leaning close to Harry's ear.
"I know everything," he whispered.
"I don't know…" she replied after several minutes had passed.
Draco nodded and stood, stretching as he did. "I think you need more time to think on your answer," he said, a sad smile on his lips. "I need to go make sure Goyle and Pansy aren't getting into any trouble, as it is, so I'll leave you to it."
She merely nodded in answer, turning to face out the window, and he almost felt bad at moral dilemma he had posed to her. If she's going to survive, he thought sadly as he stepped into the hall, she needs to find an answer.
He walked the hallways at a languorous pace, stopping to speak with a few Slytherins here and there. After three cars, he came upon Goyle sitting by himself, staring out the window. Silently, he slipped into the compartment and sat next to his friend.
"I miss him, you know," the other boy's deep voice rumbled after a moment.
Draco nodded. "I miss him too, Greg."
The quiet remembrance was broken when a very distraught Pansy ran into the cabin a moment later, crying and shaking. She threw herself on the blond, clinging to him for dear life.
"Pansy, what's wrong?" he asked in concern. The Princess of Slytherin was known for being hotheaded, but she never cried. She wouldn't let anyone see her in a moment of such utter weakness.
"He… he saw! He saw it and now, he's going to tell. I'll get thrown in Azkaban, and a dementor will suck out my soul," she said in a rush between sobs.
Immediately, he knew what she was talking about.
Someone had seen her Dark Mark.
Draco looked to Goyle, and saw that the larger boy had gone as pale as he was sure he had.
"Who saw it, Pansy?" he asked after he managed to calm his rattled nerves.
"P… Potter…" she sniffled out.
The Slytherin Prince felt all the air drain from him in a rush, and he thought that this is how drowning must feel.
Harry watched the Slytherin carefully from were he sat across from him. The boy had his legs crossed, one arm wrapped around his stomach and while his other hand was balled under his chin. He was grinning in a knowing way, and his dark green eyes danced with mirth. They had been there for several minutes, without a word spoken since Harry had followed him into the cabin, and it was starting to grate on the Gryffindor's nerves.
Finally, he snapped.
"Alright, wh–"
"Five minutes, thirty-eight seconds," the other boy interrupted in that lyrical tone that drove Harry mad. "I'm impressed Potter, I did not think that you would be able to maintain your silent disposition for more than one minute. Truly a feat for you, I should say."
Once more, Harry opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the other boy continued. "You were about to ask, "What the hell do I want," am I correct?"
Narrowing his eyes, Harry nodded.
"Before I reach the purpose of our visit, allow me to explain what role it is that I occupy within the walls of Hogwarts." He paused for a moment, waiting to see if the Gryffindor would interrupt. When Harry kept silent, the Slytherin's smile grew a little more devious.
"I am an information broker, Potter. To say it simply, as it were, I discover the dirty little secrets everyone keeps. I know virtually everything about every student within Hogwarts, and I am quite well versed on almost all the professors. Except for the Headmaster, of course," he chuckled lightly, as if indulging in a private joke.
"Anything anyone would like to know about someone, they need only ask me and the information is theirs – for a price, of course."
Harry snorted, knowing that the line was coming.
The other boy raised in eyebrow in response. "Yes, I do suppose that was slightly cliché, however it does speak the truth."
"And why do I care what you do to amuse yourself?" Harry asked, more curious about where this was leading than he would have liked.
"The reason should be obvious, I would think. You can use the information I possess. Just think of the possibilities that would become available if you acquired the services of someone on the inside of Slytherin House, among the Death Eaters and their parents, passing you information."
Harry felt his blood freeze. His eyes connected to the other boy's and he knew that he had heard right.
"It should come as no surprise to you that there are those within Slytherin House that bear the Dark Mark," Zabini said with a nod and a smile. "The Dark Lord does discriminate, he accepts fodder of all ages."
The raven-haired Gryffindor stared at the other boy for a few moments, gauging whether or not the Slytherin was trying to play him for a fool. "And what does this have to do with me?" he asked slowly, wanting to leave, but being rooted to his seat by the strange boy across from him.
Leaning forward, the other boy's smile grew sinister. "Because, for only a small fee, this wonderful information could be at your disposal."
"So, this is all about making a profit."
"I never explicitly stated that the fee would be monetary, and to make such an assumption is to gravely miscalculate my integrity, Harry Potter."
"And what is your price?" he asked, eyes narrowed.
Instead of responding the Slytherin rolled up his sleeves, and bared both his forearms to Harry. "Just to prove that I am not, in fact, a Death Eater, and therefore would not myself benefit from the price our contract shall carry," he stated calmly, as he brought his sleeves back down.
He stayed silent for several moments as he smoothed out the wrinkles on his sleeves, then abruptly brought his eyes to meet Harry's, all traces of amusement gone from his features. "You do not reveal any of the information I pass to you to anyone, including the Headmaster, until a time I deign, or Valentine's Day, whichever comes first."
Harry stared at the mysterious boy for several minutes before he nodded.
Another sinister smile played across the boy's face. "Then we shall seal our agreement with an Unbreakable Vow."
Ginny stared out over the passing countryside from the relative silence of the path between cars. With only the wind and the occasional passerby to make any noise, she found that she was able to relax for the first time since she had boarded the train.
Her calm was broken a few minutes later when Luna appeared at her side.
Several minutes of silence passed between them, with the Ravenclaw glancing at her every few minutes from the corner of her eye.
"What is it?" Ginny asked finally, quickly tired of the game.
Her wide, impossibly blue eyes turned to the youngest Weasley. "Do you remember when we used to practice kissing?" she asked.
Ginny's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she turned to her friend. "Umm… yeah? Why?" Ginny actually remembered very well. They were second years, and Ginny wanted to be ready and know how to kiss when Harry came to his senses, and Luna just wanted to know what it was like.
"No reason."
Ginny stared at her, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
When nothing more was forthcoming, Ginny sighed in frustration, threw her hands in the air and turned to storm away.
Before she got more than a step however, an arm grabbed her from behind and spun her around.
Her eyes were open wide, but it still took a moment for her to realize that she was kissing Luna.
Instead of pulling away, however, she smiled and gave herself over to the kiss.
A loud cough behind them caused her to jump away, however.
Standing there, one eyebrow arched in a very Malfoyish way, was Goyle. And he looked somewhere between laughing and… well, laughing. But there was something underneath it, and if she could read it right, it looked like worry.
Ginny's eyes narrowed at the boy. As she opened her mouth to berate him, however, she was cut off by Luna's whimsical voice behind her.
"You've definitely gotten better."
Turning again toward the other witch, she was surprised to see her walking through the door into the next car.
"So, you and Loony copping off? Never would of thought of you as a poof."
The heat returning once more to her cheeks, she punched him lightly in the shoulder… or elbow, as it were, considering his height. "Oh sod off. I'm not a poofter. And I'd much rather you didn't call me one either. I still like boys."
A knowing smile came to the brute's features then, and Ginny felt she would have slapped him if she could reach his face without the aid of a chair.
"Whatever you say," he laughed, turning and making his way back the way he came. "Whatever you say."
And, once more, Ginny found herself with only the wind as company.
Blaise watched as the raven-haired Gryffindor paused at the door's threshold, indecision written clearly on his features. "Why did you come to me, Zabini?" he asked, refusing to turn toward him.
The question caught him off guard, so it took a moment for him to come to an answer.
He decided upon the truth. "Let's just say that I have a vested personal interest in seeing that Lord Voldemort does not succeed," he said plainly, finally causing the other boy's eyes to fall on him.
The Boy-Who-Lived watched him for another minute, as if trying to decipher any deception from his expression, before he nodded and stepped out into the hall.
Blaise sat there for a time thinking upon the things that had brought him to where he was now, working for the Dumbledore's dream.
Blaise couldn't help but to chuckle as he changed into his school robes as he thought of that. If his mother knew were his loyalties truly lay, he would be disowned before he could say 'galleon.'
"What's so funny?"
Blaise turned his head to face the intrusion to his thoughts with a smile. "And where have you been?" he asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively, his sly grin settling into place.
Colin closed the door and wrapped his arms around Blaise. "Oh, around," he responded coyly before leaning in for a kiss.
"Mmm… Keeping up appearances of being a virtuous little lion and all that, hmmm?" the raven-haired boy asked as he separated himself from his boyfriend to finish changing.
Colin, already in his uniform, sat down and watched him with an appreciative gaze. "You forget, though," he said, pointing at him. "I am a good little Gryffindor."
The mousy Gryffindor was a master at deciphering the Slytherin's eloquent speech.
Blaise, pausing in the middle of pulling his shirt over his head, looked back with a dubious expression on his face. "Not so little, from what I recall."
Blushing madly, Colin coughed into his fist. "Yes, well… Anyways, I was actually wondering why another boy was coming out of your cabin?" he asked, looking at the older boy with a raised eyebrow.
It was Blaise's turn to blush as he picked up his robe. "Yes, well… Harry Potter and I had business to discuss," he said quickly.
"You know, when you say it like that, you make yourself sound guilty."
The tall Slytherin fastened the last button on his robe and turned to the younger boy with a frustrated sigh.
Colin's blush deepened slightly. "Sorry," he mumbled. "You know I don't mean it."
"Merci," Blaise said softly as he sat next to his brown-haired lover and wrapped his arms around him protectively. "You know that you are the only man for me, my little lion." he smiled.
After several minutes of silence, Colin lifted his head from where it had been resting on the Slytherin's shoulder. "By the way, Malfoy was wandering around looking for you."
Blaise met the younger boy's eyes and blinked in confusion. "For what reason?"
The Gryffindor shrugged and put his head back.
"And please, you know how much I loathe that entire, 'call everyone you don't like by their last name,' business. It's simply too undignified," he said, bringing a suffering sigh from the boy in his arms. "If nothing else, you should identify your friends by their surname, and your adversaries by their primary."
Colin bent his head backwards so he could look into the soft green eyes of the pseudo-philosopher. "To keep with the whole 'keep your friends close, but your enemies closer,' thing?"
"Precisely."
The Gryffindor rolled his eyes and snuggled closer to him. "Except in Harry's case, right?"
Blaise chuckled lightly at the only exception to the rule – for he knew there was always one. "For him, his entire name is…" he paused for a moment, searching for the right word.
"Impactful?" Colin offered helpfully.
Grinning, Blaise nodded slightly. "That is not actually a word, although I suppose it will do. Yes, impactful. Hearing the name Harry Potter, one and all pause to look around for the unstable, perverse, possibly-linked-to-the-Dark-Lord boy who lived. Even merely the name Potter warrants instantaneous awareness, for they were distinguished prior to their murder, and made legendary by their deaths. Their son carries on a legacy he knew nothing about for the greater part of his life, and – in the end – he will either kill or be killed because of it.
"Besides," he added after a slight pause, letting his words sink in. "It is emphatically amusing to verbalize."
This brought a bark of laughter from Colin. "Fun to say, is it? Well, you just –"
The opening of the compartment door caused him to stop mid-sentence, and Blaise felt him tense up.
"Am I interrupting something?" Draco asked as he stepped into the room, a disapproving frown upon his face.
Blaise heard Colin's breath hitch as he responded. "Not at all, my Prince," he replied, forcing a smile and waving at the seat across from them.
The blond's lip curled dangerously as he shut the door behind him and sat to in the seat Blaise had offered.
Blaise, knowing very well that the Slytherin Prince had sought him out for more than a simple social call, disentangled himself from the Gryffindor and sat up. "What do you require, Your Majesty?"
The intruder's eyes turned to the boy sitting at Blaise's side and narrowed. With a sigh, the raven-haired Slytherin turned to Colin and took the other boy's hands in his own. "I must apologize, love, but this is business, and you know how much you abhor being implicated in my trade," he whispered, ducking in for a kiss to end the sentence, receiving a disgusted snort from the other occupant of the cabin.
Colin scowled and stood up. "Fine, I'll just catch up with you at the castle," he huffed before walking out, visibly upset.
Blaise watched him go then turned to Draco, anger clear in his eyes. "This had better be worth my time, my Prince. That was the first instance we have had the fortune to be mutually unaccompanied since the release of school for the summer holiday."
After several moments of the two boys exchanging heated glares, Draco's frown became a snarl. "Potter knows about Pansy's Mark."
Instantly, Blaise felt the blood drain from his face.
Author's Notes
I have no excuse.
I promise nothing, because things suck in my life right now, and I have had a killer case of writer's block since I quit smoking six months ago.
So, I'm sorry, and I'll try to get the next chapter out soon.
I love you all, and thank you for your continued support.
As always,
Thank you for reading,
-Damien J. Frost