Title: Firebrand Chronicles Book One: Behind Closed Doors

Summary: Potter has the fame, Malfoy has the power, what does that leave for Blaise Zabini? Only to stand in the shadows, watch, and occasionally do the unexpected. Not that the first year at Hogwarts is ever what anyone expects. This is his story. Book One

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter any of its characters or events. They belong to J.K. Rowling

Published: 10/6/08 - Complete

Edited: 10/5/13 – Rewrite, The basic plot remains the same, however I have gone back added quite a bit of content, and rewritten several scenes.

Firebrand Chronicles

Book One: Behind Closed Doors

Chapter X

Term started much the way it had before Christmas, though this time I was better equipped. I had told Mother about my problems in transfiguration and astronomy. She had no idea about what to do for transfiguration, turns out that had been her worst subject as well. She did, however, have a way to keep me awake during astronomy. A green, slimy looking potion she called tonic.

"Take NO MORE then one mouthful before class. It'll keep you wide-awake for at least two hours. DON'T add anything to it. Adding ingredients will either counteract the effect and send you straight to sleep, or possibly make you sick to your stomach and land you in the hospital wing for a week. Blaise, I do not want to be charged with poisoning my son, and if I find you have landed yourself in the hospital wing because you decided to make this taste better . . ." she left the threat unfinished, making me think that though she didn't yet know what she'd do to me, by the time I found out I'd wish I had never even been born.

The stuff did taste vile, not quite as bad as some of the every flavor beans I'd been swallowing, but nasty all the same. I still hoped for something better tasting, but as the tonic did its job I shouldn't complain. I improved a slight bit in astronomy, probably because being more awake I was better able to pay attention, but I'm convinced that Professor Sinistra had it in for me. No longer was I dozing off but I still avoided the edges of the tower, and every time I traded somebody for the centermost telescope I receive 'the glare.' Fortunately there were better things to look forward to then astronomy classes.

The Hufflepuff verses Gryffindor match arrived quickly and people in the halls began whispering about Slytherin house taking an unfair advantage. As Slytherin wasn't playing I failed to see the point of the complaint. Our head of house had simply offered to referee because Madam Hooch's head cold had progressed into a full-blown sinus infection completely destroying her sense of balance. A lack of balance and broomsticks do not go well together. No one heard the Slytherins complaining. Of course after the match nobody else could complain either.

Potter set what had to be a record for the fastest catch of the Snitch ever. One moment he was in the air, the next he was diving past Professor Snape and the Snitch was in his hand. That meant one thing for us. Gryffindor over took Slytherin in the standings for the finales. Added to that, the latest school gossip included the fact that Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle had all ended up in the hospital wing following the match. Apparently both Weasley and Longbottom had decided they had heard enough of Draco's mouth. Maybe Longbottom did have some guts after all. But the end result was that regardless of Draco's bodyguards he finally had to prove he was more then just talk. Neither Theo not I felt any pity for them. After all Theo had often said it would be amusing to see the day Draco had to use his wand, and his face splitting grin when he heard the news spoke volumes. Unfortunately neither of us had been there to witness the fight. Or perhaps not so unfortunately. Had either of us been present, there would have been a certain obligation for us to join in, and defending myself from a hopeless idiot like Longbottom held no appeal for me.

In addition to the Gryffindors overtaking us in Quidditch, the teachers started giving extra homework. It seemed that with the Easter holidays drawing closer final exams were also drawing near, so they piled on all the work they wanted us to accomplish by the end of term. It was not unusual for Theo and Tracey to join me in the library, Tracey humming as she worked and Theo tapping his fingers on the desk, both receiving annoyed looks from Madam Pince. In a way the workload was a good thing because it distracted me from the door on the third floor corridor, though I did notice Potter's gang had started being abnormally nice to professor Quirrell. I knew why, I'd learned that little secret about an hour after the Quidditch match.

I had avoided the common room in order to avoid being dragging into conversations about the Gryffindor lead, or Draco's beating. Instead I was wandering around the school looking for something to do, or even just something mildly entertaining. I passed what I had thought was an empty classroom, but was surprised to hear Potter's voice. He wasn't being nearly as quiet as he thought he was, and when I heard what he was saying, curiosity winning out over better common sense, I drew closer to the door listening to the details.

"I reckon there or other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti dark arts spell that Snape needs to break through . . ."

"So you mean the stone is only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" Granger's voice was highly alarmed.

Weasley was next. "It'll be gone by next Tuesday."

I moved away from the door highly confused. That there were other enchantments had occurred to me, it was the logical conclusion, though I had not dwelt on the idea, having no intention to actually go through the door myself. No, what troubled me was the very idea that Professor Snape might try to steal it. The idea that Quirrell might know a spell that Snape did not. Most of the Slytherins knew that Snape had once tried for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. The information wasn't exactly publicized, but it was the sort of information one picked up when the man was the head of your house. Professor Snape wasn't the sort to try what he couldn't accomplish. He wouldn't have tried if he weren't qualified, not multiple times. If the professor wanted the stone I was sure he could get it without Quirrell's help.

Potter must have been mistaken. I dwelt on and off the subject as time passed and the homework increased. As to how Professor Snape was involved, I got my answer several weeks later.

It was late afternoon and Draco had come into the common room absolutely thrilled with himself, though he would say nothing to anybody about what it was that made him so happy. I however was extremely frustrated as I was currently having problems with the homework Professor Quirrell had assigned. As Theo had gone off to the owlery to deliver a letter and Tracey was somewhere in the girls' dorms discussing makeup or something with Pansy, I was attempting to work through it on my own. I had never been very good a drawing diagrams (another part of my astronomy problem,) and the Doxy was more complicated then a garden gnome. I couldn't for the life of me remember if it was just the Doxy's bite that was toxic, or if it's claws were toxic as well. Deciding that Draco's good mood was not going to help me at all (he had sat down across from me smirking, almost daring me to ask,) I decided to go find the professor and get some help.

Not five minutes after leaving the dungeons a blond Ravenclaw prefect, clear-something-or-other, told me Quirrell was in his classroom. I made my way there, but just as I was about to knock I heard voices arguing.

"Well have you made up your mind?" demanded a voice I knew well.

"I – I don't know w-what you mean S-Severus."

"I'm tired of this Quirrell." There was a very well controlled thread on anger in my head of house's voice. Had I been thinking clearly I would have left upon hearing it, but I did not.

"S-Severus I . . ."

"Don't lie to me, you are not worthy of that stone. If I find you have attempted to break security . . ."

"I've t-told you I d-don't know what you're t-talking about." Professor Quirrell's voice was very near squeaking in freight by this point.

"So be it."

I should have moved. I knew that, but I just stood there frozen, one hand raised to knock, diagram in the other. All I could think of was that even though Potter had been close, he had the whole situation backwards.

The door opened. My dark face must have been extremely pale, because professor Snape didn't yell at me for eavesdropping. He simply grabbed my shoulder and steered me away in silence.

"I don't think he saw you, I'd like to keep it that way," he muttered after while before falling silent and leading me back down into the dungeons to his office.

His office was rather dark. Bottles of pickling potions and ingredients were sitting everywhere. Volumes of various herb guides were stacked on a shelf to one side, and what looked suspiciously like a whole rat was suspended a jar of strange looking green liquid on his desk.

Professor Snape sat me in a chair, but instead of sitting across from me at the desk, he pulled his own chair around the front, closer to mine in a much more informal setting. I took a deep breath and tried not to tense up. If he was talking to me like this, I probably wasn't in as much trouble as I thought.

"How much did you hear?" I opened my mouth and closed it again unsure of where to begin.

"Let me rephrase that. How much did you reason out."

"How much do I know for sure?" I started. "Gringotts vault Seven thirteen belonged to either Hogwarts or Nicholas Flamel. The object inside was removed to the third floor corridor some time before the beginning of term, and from what I just heard Professor Quirrell wants to steal it. As for what the object itself is, I can only guess. I believe it's Nicholas Flamel's philosopher's stone. The stone that creates the elixir of life. I also believe that the creature behind the door is some sort of dog." Professor Snape muttered something about silencing charms, but I continued. "I over heard the last part from a conversation between Potter and the groundskeeper, his name's Hagrid right?"

Professor Snape only muttered that he'd suspected they'd figured it out. I didn't he meant to say it aloud, but the comment did explain a great deal of the professor's dislike of Potter. Oh Potter had his faults. For example he enjoyed the attention others often gave him. He greatly over estimated his own abilities, and he ignored others when he didn't like the subject of conversation. So what if someone asked him about his scar. He could at least be polite enough to tell then he didn't like it when they stared, instead of walking past as if they didn't exist. He also relied a great deal too much on Granger's abilities, which were not perfect despite the number of spells she could perform. All of this notwithstanding Professor Snape's dislike now seemed to take on a whole new meaning. He was keeping Potter busy, and away from that door, as well as away from things that were too big for him, and too big for me at that matter.

"I trust you have told this to no one else?" he asked calmly leaning forward in his chair.

"No sir." I paused. "Sir, shouldn't the Headmaster . . ."

"He knows." Professor Snape's black eyes pierced mine and I squirmed uncomfortably in the short laps of silence that followed thinking only that I had just wanted to talk to Professor Quirrell and now I was caught up in this mess.

"Do you mind telling me, Mr. Zabini, why you wanted to see Quirrell?"

I handed him my paper. "I'm terrible with diagrams sir. I can't draw. I hoped he might have time to help me."

"I have heard that you are also having trouble with Astronomy and Transfiguration." He said smoothly taking the page.

"Yes sir. Though I think I've solved the astronomy thing. I couldn't stay awake, so I talked with Mother and she gave me something she calls tonic."

"Acid green, looks like slime?" he was holding my diagram close to his nose as he spoke.

"Yes, sir."

"The drought of wakefulness. Aurors sometimes use it on stakeouts. Not precisely illegal, but it can become habit forming. I trust you are following all her directions?"

"One spoonful no more." I nodded. "I wouldn't make it a habit Sir. The stuff is vile. Pansy has to remind me to take it half the time."

"Still, better the vomit flavored bean." My eyes widened. How had he known about that?

"Do yourself a favor Mr. Zabini and find yourself a different solution. I'll let you experiment, but ask me if you're unsure of side effects."

"Yes, Sr."

"And Transfiguration?" he was holding my diagram upside down now.

"Professor McGonagall offered to find me a tutor," he raised an eyebrow, "but I would rather not advertise my failures across the school, and I am passing."

"By the skin of your teeth as I hear it." He handed the diagram back. "This is very good Mr. Zabini. But the bite only is toxic and you forgot the wings. And please label everything in the same direction. I do not think Quirrell will be happy with you if he has to turn your diagram in circles in order to read it."

"Thank you, Professor."

"And please, come to me if you have any further questions." I got the feeling he wasn't talking about my class work.

A week later I finally found out what Draco had been smiling about. I had, not wanting to be caught up in anything else, refused to ask him, and so I learned of the matter at the same time as the rest of the school. Breakfast the morning following the event which had caused the Gryffindor hourglass to be significantly less full, and to a much lesser extent, Slytherin house's hourglass as well.

Draco had been found in the corridor after hours the night before and fined twenty points for some story about Potter and a dragon. He insisted it was true. Unfortunately for Gryffindor house Potter, Weasley, Granger, and Longbottom had also been found out at night. Together they had lost one-hundred-fifty points putting Slytherin once again in the lead for the house cup.