I took another sip of my red wine, savoring the taste to buy me some time to think before replying. Just as I was about to answer, my companion shook his head and waved the answer away.
"It's not important anyways," he said, turning his attention away from me and towards his glass of wine.
Just when I was sure that he wasn't going to say anything else, he asked the question that I had expected all evening.
"So, how did it go?" he asked. I sighed and got up. Placing my glass down I began to pace.
"You're making me dizzy," the man complained, leaning back in his chair, "It's not that complicated."
"I haven't been to see him yet," I confessed, coming to a sudden stop and turning to face him, "I just couldn't do it."
"Merlin, Zabini," the man said, running a hand through his blond hair, "You got an order."
"I know," I replied, sighing.
"It's about Ginerva, isn't it?" Malfoy asked. I didn't have to reply for him to know that, once again, he was correct.
"You realize that she was playing us all along, don't you?" Malfoy asked, pulling up an eyebrow.
"What if we're wrong?" I asked, suddenly, "What if she was right and we're wrong?"
"We aren't," Malfoy replied, "You know that we have to ensure that our world survives this. We are doing the right thing."
"And what if we aren't?" I asked, tilting my head to the side, "What if our world should not be saved?"
Malfoy just shook his head, "I think you're drunk, Zabini," he said, and leaned his head back. For him the matter was closed.
I just wished it was that easy, I thought as I retook my seat and sipped my wine. I swirled my glass and looked down at the red liquid. Contemplatively, I took another sip.
I felt the alcohol rise to my head and my tongue become heavier. I closed my eyes as I remembered what Ginerva had once told me.
"Just because we want the world to be the way we want it to be doesn't mean that it will be that way. Sometimes, we just have to accept things and move on."
"Then why are you here?" I had returned, raising an eyebrow, "Don't pretend that you want it any less than we do."
"I'm not pretending." She had replied, "I just know that there is a price that I am not willing to pay. There are things that are worth more than…"
"More than our lives?" I had interrupted her, causing her to look at me in a manner that made me think that she could look straight through me. And then she found something, which caused her to smile sadly.
"I'm sorry. Forget it." She said, turning away. I thought I could see something in her eyes – disappointment, maybe.
That day she had planted a seed of doubt. A seed of doubt that had grown steadily ever since that day. I had never been especially close to Ginerva but I had considered her a friend.
I never really understood her, either. I never understood why she hadn't gone into hiding with Potter. I had expected her to marry him after Hogwarts and to never look back.
"Did you ever love her?" I asked, suddenly, startling Malfoy who was nearly asleep.
"I don't know," the man admitted, shrugging a little, "In the beginning, it was just to spite Potter, fat load of good that did," he barked a dry laugh before continuing, "And then…well…" he trailed off, "I suppose I never knew her."
I nodded as he unknowingly echoed the words I had said to Ginerva only days before. I sighed as my eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep.
It seemed like no time had passed when, suddenly, someone poked me. "Merlin, Malfoy, stop it," I muttered, but the poking continued.
I opened my eyes before squeezing them shut again as the light hit my eyes in a painful manner.
"You have to get up," Malfoy said, "You still have to go see him."
I sighed and opened my eyes again. I was a little hung over and wished, once again, for my magic. For a second, I was tempted to uncork one of the vials that stood on the shelves, but I already dreaded the consequences. Nevertheless, I knew I would have to face them later that day. Still, I would drag it out as long as I could – not only because of the consequences but also because I hated how these vials were filled.
And so I downed the coffee that Malfoy was handing me while muttering something about house elves. I grimaced before getting up and running a hand through my hair.
Malfoy sighed and left the room, "Just do it all ready," he said, before walking off. I sighed and walked over to the shelf where I had stored the vials. I looked at them and picked one up. Holding it into the sunlight, it caught the rays and glimmered in a deep blue color.
I smiled a little before I uncorked the vial I had picked up and downed it in one go. I grimaced at the taste before I squeezed my eyes shut as a warm tingling engulfed me. I felt my core opening up and accepting the magic as it seeped back into me.
Already I was dreading the moment when it would leave me again. Already I felt my core trying to make the magic its own and failing. I pulled out my wand and cast a simple cleaning charm. I felt the tingles run all over me and I smiled a little as the doubt I had felt the previous night dissipated.
Magic was worth everything. Every sacrifice I made was more than worth it.
And then I remembered the costs. I remembered the reason why Ginerva had finally had enough. And I remembered the letters I wrote to Potter.
I left the room and walked down the stairs and towards the dungeons. I could hear voices whispering and sometimes shouting. Goyle greeted me as I walked into one of the darker corridors. "Are you here to see him?" he asked.
I only nodded. Goyle grinned and gestured for me to enter the interrogation room. I took a seat and waited. A little less than five minutes later, Goyle came back, dragging a tall man with him.
It took me a moment to recognize him even though I knew who he was. His red hair was covered in grime – as were his clothes. And his eyes were lowered. Had he given up already, I wondered? Had he given up without a fight? Just like that?
Somehow I couldn't believe it. After all, he had fought against Voldemort. And he had been victorious. I nodded at Goyle, gesturing for him to take off the cuffs.
"Hello, Weasley," I said as Goyle reluctantly removed the cuffs before leaving the room, "Why don't you take a seat?"
Weasley looked at me for a moment, sizing me up, and I was reminded of his sister for a moment as he, too, seemed to be able to look through me.
"Zabini," he said, taking a seat, "What do you want?"
"Oh, please, call me Blaise," I said, smiling at the man before me.
"Right," he said, pulling up an eyebrow, "So, what do you want?"
"What makes you think I want anything from you?"
"Please, let's stop playing games. I've been on both sides of this interrogation far too often." He turned his head, "And to think that I was so sure I was out of this – permanently."
I nodded as I acquiesced his wishes – out of respect for him and for his sister. "We want to know what you're planning," I replied, leaning back and watching the man's face for any movement.
"Planning?" the man asked, tilting his head, "Why, I'm planning nothing except for a christening, maybe. We haven't really discussed it yet. But one thing's for sure - you're not invited."
"I'm not?" I asked, smiling sadly, "How sad. What did I do?"
"Apart from killing my sister?" the man asked, "Nothing much, I suppose."
So he had heard about Ginerva. "I'm sorry about Ginerva," I said, sincerely.
"Really?" the man asked, pulling up an eyebrow, "Why do I find that so hard to believe?"
"I don't know," I said, shrugging a little, "It doesn't matter," I looked at him again, "So, tell me, what's Granger's brilliant plan?"
"I wouldn't call it brilliant." The man replied, "It's not really much of a plan, anyways."
"Really?" I drawled, unable to believe that despite the fact that I had listened to the bug I had planted on her that night in Ginerva's flat.
"Really," the man assured me, surprisingly honest.
"Well, that wasn't worth the effort," I replied, grinning a little.
"Yes, it seems that way, doesn't it?" he asked, smiling, "Why did you take me? I mean, why not take her directly?"
"Because we thought you could be of so much more use to us," I replied, leaning back, "And she has already made her opinion of us very clear."
"You cannot be serious," the man said, pulling up an eyebrow, "You want me to join you?"
"I am quite serious," I replied, smiling at the man.
"Why on earth would I join you?" he asked, "You killed my only sister, you kidnapped me and your hospitality here is…well, substandard to say the least," he pointedly looked at the state of his clothes.
"We didn't kill your sister," I said, "She poisoned herself."
"You would have killed her if she hadn't been faster," the man said, sighing a little, "But never mind all of that. Explain it to me – why would you want me? After Ginny's betrayal, you could never trust me. I would be a liability rather than an asset."
"You couldn't betray us," I assured him, smiling a little, "In a short while everyone will know about our plans. And…we have things that you would do anything for. Things to assure your loyalty."
"My loyalty?" Weasley sneered in a way that would have made Malfoy envious had he been there, "My loyalty cannot be bought."
"Not with money, no," I said, smirking, "But with magic…with magic, everything can be bought."
"You're telling me that you have magic?" the man asked, leaning forwards and showing true interest in what I had to say for the first time.
"I do," I replied, "And so could you – if you were to join us."
He tilted his head, "Prove it," he commanded rather than requested. Still, I had him exactly where I wanted him and so I pulled out my wand, slowly. I could see his eyes widening.
It was almost too easy. It always was, lately. All I had to do was cast a spell or two – including a cleaning spell – and I had them. I waved my wand and I felt it, the magic rushing through me, urging to come out.
But it wasn't like it used to be. I didn't have a nearly unlimited amount of magic at my disposal. I only had as much magic as that one vial gave me. And it was rather unpredictable – some vials lasted for nearly twenty four hours whilst others contained just enough magic for a few spells.
"And you're saying that you'd be willing to share this?" Weasley asked, leaning back again.
I shrugged a little, "There is enough for everyone. We could rebuild our world. We could make Diagon Alley, Hogwarts, St. Mungo's and the Ministry rise from the ashes again. We could start a new world, we could form a whole civilization. We have it all at our fingertips – at the tips of our wands."
I could see that Weasley was thinking about it all before he asked, "And where is all that magic coming from? Why do you have it while everyone else is still basically a squib?"
I smirked a little, "That's for me to know and for you to find out," I said, though, truthfully, I doubted that he would be told.
Weasley looked at me and for a moment I thought that he was going to agree before he shook his head, "I was taught a long time ago not to trust something that you cannot understand. And I don't understand this so I don't trust it."
I looked at Weasley and realized that maybe he wasn't as different from his sister as I had assumed. There were similarities that I had previously overlooked. And he was far smarter than I had expected him to be – far smarter than I remembered him to be.
And now that he sat before me, smiling at me, I realized that he truly did look a whole lot like her, too. "Tell me," I said, suddenly, "Where is Potter hiding?"
"In a safe place," the man replied, smiling.
"Where is Potter hiding?" I asked again, but the man gave no response.
I raised my wand, "One last time," I threatened, "Where is Potter hiding?"
Weasley just smiled at me in response, "I don't know," he shrugged.
"You're lying," I said, staring at him.
"Hermione made the plan," Weasley said, suddenly, surprising me. I hadn't expected him to say more than necessary. I had expected him to be angry, to shout and not to talk in a level voice and actually make reasonable statements, "Don't you think she counted on one of us being captured? She made sure we couldn't cause the others damage. And she took measures to prevent herself from knowing too much, too."
"Where is Camellia?"
"Who?" Weasley asked, grinning. I had a feeling that he knew exactly who I was talking about.
"Don't pretend to be stupider than you are," I said, "Where is Camellia?"
"With Harry," Weasley said, smiling a little, "Tell me, what happened to her?"
"Your sister took her," I said, unwilling to delve further into the events that had caused Ginerva's death.
"Tell me about the Resistance."
"I know nothing about the Resistance." Weasley replied, "Except that they exist – but mostly on the continent."
I looked at him closely and closed my eyes, hating the following part. Without moving my lips, I cast a pain curse causing Weasley to writhe in his chair.
"Tell me about Camellia," I ordered.
"She's safe," Weasley replied, "With Harry."
"Where is Potter?"
"Why do you do it, Zabini?" Ron asked, suddenly, "Why do you do it?"
"Why do I do it?" I repeated, incredulous, "I do it for our society. I do it to regain everything that we've lost."
"And the children?" he asked, suddenly, slamming his hand on the table before us, "What did they do to be sacrificed for our dreams?"
I sat back, looking at him, wondering what he knew about the children apart from the fact that they were kept in cells close to his, "They don't deserve magic," I said, frowning, "They have taken it from us."
"No," Weasley shook his head, "Magic doesn't belong to anyone."
"It's my heritage," I said, leaning forwards, "It's my birthright. And now all these muggle-born children have magic while we don't have it? They can't even appreciate the gift they have – they're terrified of magic."
"That still doesn't give you the right to keep them the way you are," Weasley argued back, looking at me in an intense manner, "It doesn't give you the right to keep them like guinea pigs. I've seen them – they're too thin, dirty and scared. When your doctors come for them, they begin to cry."
"They have taken what is rightfully ours."
"Merlin, it's not like it was their choice. Or like they could do anything about it."
I simply shook my head, "I thought you would understand." I said, "But maybe you're too much like her."
"I'm not," he shook his head, "It's just that I have no interest in this world anymore. I am starting my own family."
I looked at him, tilting my head, "Your wife is pregnant?" I asked.
"My girlfriend is," Weasley nodded.
"I see," I replied, looking at him critically, "Give us the child and we'll let you go."
Weasley laughed, not bothering to reply.
"I am serious," I assured the man, "You're not getting out of here alive. And we'll find her and your child anyways. This is a win-win situation – you'll go free and we'll never bother you again while you are saving us the trouble of having to spend time looking for your child."
"Despite everything else, I am still a Weasley," the man said, "Family is the most important thing in my life."
I smiled, "I had expected as much. Still, I had to offer."
Without another word, I pulled out my wand again, "So, I take it you're not going to cooperate?"
"No," the man shook his head, "And I'll have you know that Voldemort himself tortured me – you won't have any luck."
"Maybe not," I responded, "But I'd be a fool not to try."
"Is this where you tortured and killed Ginny?" Weasley suddenly asked, looking around with a morbid curiosity.
"I didn't touch Ginerva," I said, vehemently.
"Interesting," the man before me said, looking at me in a bizarre manner, "I hadn't expected that."
"Hadn't expected what?" I asked.
"That you'd actually care about Ginny."
I shook my head, unwilling – or maybe unable – to answer. Instead, I gave my wand a small flick and had Weasley writhing on the floor before me. Normally, this would fill me with the familiar feeling of content that the Dark Arts always left in me, but that day I was unable to feel anything.
Nothing, except for anger. I was incredibly angry, though I could not pinpoint the cause.
I don't know how long I tortured Weasley, asking questions that got no answer, but I do know that by the time I was finished Weasley was unable to move and the magic within me was nearly used up. I waved my wand one last time and cleaned the man up before leaving. As I did so, I felt this inexplicable anger within me subside slightly.
"Did you leave something for me to work with?" a man asked, stopping me on my way up the stairs.
"See for yourself," I said, rather harshly, as I pushed past him. I wanted to be in my rooms by the time it would happen.
However, just as I was about to enter my room, a woman stopped me, "Hello, Blaise," she mumbled in her Eastern European accent, leaning forwards to press a kiss on my lips.
"Ksenia," I greeted her, smiling despite the fact that I really yearned to be in my room.
"So," she said, looking at me closely, "I see you've been seeing the prisoners again."
I nodded, "Yes, Weasley's quite a stubborn man."
"Weasley?" she asked, her breath catching. I pulled up an eyebrow and nodded.
"You've heard of the Weasleys?" I asked.
"Who hasn't?" the woman asked, sighing a little, "So, which one is down there?"
I felt the magic leave me in quickly and so I simply shook my head and left the woman standing in the corridor. This was the part I hated.
I could feel my core struggling to hold the magic that was quickly escaping me. I could feel my core stretching and contracting, and I could feel the magic slip through its grasp.
As the last bit of magic left me, I collapsed on my bed. My whole body hurt and I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. I let my eyes fall shut as I felt my body spasm. I fingered my wand and suddenly it felt like a useless piece of wood. I was no longer connected to it.
I opened my eyes, feeling the loneliness. Whenever magic left me, I felt it washing over me. I looked over at my stack of potions and for a moment I was tempted to simply uncork another vial and down it to get magic back and to get rid of this incredible feeling of loneliness.
But I couldn't do it. Because, despite everything else, Weasley had had a point. These children had done nothing to warrant the way we used them. They had not chosen to be born with magic in a time when magic was so scarce.
Suddenly, an alarm went off. It took me a moment to realize that it was the fire alarm. Still, somehow, I couldn't bring myself to get up.
For a moment, I was ready to burn. I lay there, listening to footsteps running by my door and to frantic shouts. I listened to guards discussing what to do with the prisoners.
I don't know for how long I lay there, unmoving. I was ready to let go. I had done horrible things and everyone has to atone for what they do sometimes. Maybe, I reasoned, my time had come.
And then, I heard Ksenia whispering in the corridor. I got up and made my way over to the door, slowly. I pushed it open and leaned against the wall as even the effort to stand straight exhausted me.
There, in the corridor, stood Ksenia, supporting Weasley as she helped him towards the exit.
"I should have known," I said, quietly. Still, Ksenia whirled around, a gun in her hand.
"Don't move," she ordered, glaring at me.
"I'm not planning to," I agreed, nodding, "Tell me, Ksenia, why blow your cover for Weasley?"
"Good question," Weasley nodded, despite the fact that he was clearly too weak to stand, his brain still seemed to function.
"I…" the woman colored slightly, "I know Weasley's brother."
"Ah," I grinned, "What we don't do for love."
"I'm not in love with Charlie," the woman denied.
"No?" I asked, smirking, "Then why did you sacrifice your cover for him in this ludicrous rescue mission?"
"Because…" the woman had no answer.
"I thought so," I nodded, smiling, "Well, you should come in, then." I said, gesturing to my door, "You'll find that it'll be easier to leave through the secret tunnel rather than through the main gates."
"No one will notice us in the chaos." The woman argued, "We'll take our chances. Why, after all, should we trust you?"
"Especially," Weasley added, "Since you've just finished torturing me."
I sighed and nodded, "That is, of course, a good point. So, are you coming?"
Ksenia smirked and nodded, "I think that we are," she said, leading Weasley into my room. I pointed towards a chair on which she let Weasley sit, "Why are you helping us?"
"Because this isn't what I signed up for," I replied, looking at Weasley's beaten form, "I want magic back, that's true, but I don't want this," I gestured around before making my way over to my shelf. I took down one of the vials and put it into a bag.
"What are you doing?" Weasley asked.
"The vial contains magic." I explained, handing the bag to Ksenia, "If you drink them you regain your magic – at least you do for a little while. And when magic leaves you again…well, it's not pretty."
I sighed and looked at Weasley and Ksenia, "Still, it's better to have this if you want to take on the Saviors at some point."
"The Saviors?" Weasley asked, confused, but I didn't explain. Instead, I opened the door to my closet. Quickly, I moved my clothes and took out the back wall. As I did so, an opening appeared.
"This leads right into the middle of the forest," I offered, "I'd hurry. They'll notice you're missing soon enough."
Ksenia nodded, shouldered the bag I had handed her and began to lead Weasley out of the room. "Why are you really doing this?" she asked, whispering, as she passed me.
"Same reason you are," I said, shrugging, "For Ginerva."
She smirked at me and nodded, "I figured. Are you coming?"
"Someone has to close up behind you," I said, shaking my head.
Ksenia nodded and turned around, "If you ever need anything," the woman said, "The Resistance will be there for you. Just tell them that you saved Ksenia Krum."
I nodded and Ksenia started to walk off with Weasley. I closed the wall behind them and put my clothes back before lying back down on my bed.
I had betrayed the Saviors that day. I had betrayed everything I had believed in for so long. It had been a long time coming, I knew that. After all, I had sent several letters to Potter. I had always argued to myself that I wasn't really betraying the Saviors – I was just trying to locate Potter.
But that wasn't true. I sighed and rubbed my eyes. What was I getting myself into?
Suddenly, there was a knock on my door. My heart jumped into my throat before falling down into my stomach as I painted the worst case scenario in my mind. It was a trap to see whether or not I was faithful and I had failed. They had found them as they were exiting the tunnel in the forest.
All possibilities lead to one course of action: they were coming to collect me.
Still, I had no options left except to answer the door. The third time someone knocked, I finally opened the door. I was surprised to see Smith standing there, a knowing smirk on his face.
"What do you want?" I asked, astonished.
The man entered without waiting for an invitation, "I was watching you," the man said, looking at me critically, "Out of everyone I would never have expected it to be you."
"What wouldn't you have expected to be me?" I asked.
"The traitor, of course," the man relied, smirking, "I had my money on Malfoy."
"Malfoy?" I asked, scoffing.
"Well, he was the traitor back with Voldemort."
"This is different," I replied, shaking my head, "This is a totally different cause. And I can personally assure you that Malfoy is not the traitor. Quite the opposite, really."
For a moment, I thought that Smith looked disappointed but then it was gone and the man simply shrugged, "Oh, well, I should have known," he offered, "It really was too much to hope for."
"What do you want, Smith?" I asked. I had never really had a lot to do with Smith. He had been a sort-of-friend of Ginerva's. No one really knew what his job was, but it was something to do with the children. He had started here about a month after they had perfected the procedure and seemed to answer to no one.
"I want your help freeing the children," the man said, looking at me.
"The children?" I asked, astonished, before walking over to my cabinet and pouring myself a drink, "Do you want some?"
"Yes, please," the man nodded and I poured him a drink, too. I walked back over and handed him a glass before downing mine in one go.
"Have you seen the children?" I asked.
"I work with them," the man nodded, "Of course I've seen them."
"Then you know that most of them are in no condition to be moved. And even if they were – there are at least fifty children here. Where would you move them?"
The man smirked, "Ginerva made it."
"Ginerva rescued one child – her child – and she died in the end."
Smith looked at me and nodded. He downed the rest of his whiskey and slammed the glass down before he stood up, "I see that you're not interested."
"Of course I am interested," I argued back, "I just don't see how this could possibly work. This is insane, and it will help no one if we fail and get ourselves killed."
"We will not get killed," the man replied, "And I'm not suggesting that we do it alone or without a plan. I'm just asking whether or not I can count on you."
I sighed and nodded, "You can count on me," I agreed, "As long as you convince me that there's even the slightest chance of success."
"That," the man said, walking over to the door, "Is all I needed to hear."
I nodded as he opened the door, "How did you survive?" I asked, suddenly.
"Oh, you know me, Mr. Zabini," the man said in his familiar drawl, "I just carry around the right potions."
With that the man left and I poured myself another drink, unable to think straight. So much had happened in the last few hours. I had tortured Weasley before helping him escape and now I was involved in a plot to free the children.
What had I gotten myself into, I wondered, as I closed my eyes and finally drifted off to sleep.
The whole night long I was plagued by nightmares.