Ah, the library. It's the sanctuary for the incurably bookish and the
innately boring. I don't consider myself part of either category, but I was
finding myself in the library with disturbing frequency, so I was well on
my way to permanent membership in one or the other. Honestly, you'd think I
was a Ravenclaw.
It didn't at all help that I currently had not one, but /two/ half-finished Transfiguration essays spread out in front of me. One, of course, was the one I had to rewrite because Pansy had ruined the first copy, but the fact still remained that I was currently doing two assignments for the /same class/. The act went against all laws of nature and, quite frankly, it was rather frightening.
Thus, I took a break from actual work and spent half an hour doodling, simply to prove I could. It wasn't quite as relaxing as, say, chopping some unfortunate thing in half, but it took my mind off my present circumstances, which was all I wanted at the moment.
I was just adding the finishing touches to a rather violent sketch involving a dragon, a wooden stake, and a crudely-drawn girl when Ryan pulled up a chair across from me. "I see you're in an unusually good mood today," he said dryly, nodding toward my picture. "I'm guessing the one who's having her heart gouged out is our own Miss Parkinson?"
"Gee, how'd you guess?" I asked sarcastically.
"I'm just lucky, I suppose," Ryan replied nonchalantly. "Though that display at dinner may have cued me in a bit."
I groaned. "Was it really that obvious?"
"To me, yes," Ryan said, pulling his Charms book from his bag. "Then again, I know you've been dying to hex her for a very long time."
"And how," I agreed, then frowned. "Why the hell did I just say that? It doesn't even make sense."
Ryan shrugged. "It's just an expression, Blaise. It's not supposed to."
"Right," I said, leaning back on my chair and twirling a quill idly between my fingers. "How long do you suppose it'll take Madam Pomfrey to turn Pansy's hair back to normal?"
"Probably not too long," he said sadly. "Of course, that's assuming she knows which curse you used. Where did you find it, by the way?"
I smirked. "Ryan, I come from a long line of Slytherins. We've got a whole section in our library devoted to hexes." I declined to mention that most of these hadn't been touched for ages, at least since Gran took up residence there.
"Really? You'll have to show me it sometime," Ryan said. "All we have at my house are cookbooks and how-to manuals."
"You poor, lost soul," I said pityingly. "How do you /live/?"
"Very dully," he said frankly. "If I hadn't gotten messed up with you, I'd probably be just like Terry Boot: boring and respectable."
"And an egotistical prat," I reminded him.
"Ah, yes. That too," he conceded. "How he ever became a prefect, I haven't a clue."
"By being boring and respectable, obviously."
"Shut up, Blaise."
*******
I wasn't really looking forward to seeing Draco again. It was quite possible that he'd thought about the situation and realized I had every reason to hate his girlfriend, and thus wasn't angry with me anymore. On the other hand, he may have been so pissed off that he had set my bed on fire. Either way, it would be an awkward predicament, but since we live in the same dorm, it wasn't an avoidable one.
It was totally understandable, therefore, that I was rather cautious when entering my dorm room. The last thing I wanted was to be turned into a newt before I was even fully inside. Thankfully, Draco was busy with his Ancient Runes assignment, which he had left until the last minute, as per usual, and barely acknowledged my presence as I crossed the room and threw myself onto my bed.
I kicked off my shoes and let them fall loudly to the floor, earning an annoyed glance from Draco, which I gladly returned. Had I been prone to childish outbursts, I'd have thrown something at him. As it was, I proceeded to work on a star chart for Astronomy and made as much noise as humanly possible while doing so. I ruffled my papers every few seconds, slammed books shut whenever I wasn't using them that instant (or if I just felt like it), and generally made a nuisance of myself. It was great fun.
Draco, to his credit, tried to ignore me, but Malfoys aren't known for their patience or tolerance, especially when they're already having a rather bad day. He lasted roughly ten minutes before he leveled a glare at me and snapped, "Is there something you'd like to share, Blaise?"
"No, I'm just doing this for the hell of it," I said cheerfully, labeling one last star with flourish and setting the parchment aside.
Draco, apparently dissatisfied with my response, saw fit to throw his Ancient Runes text at my head. I was immensely thankful that it was the slimmer grammar reference book instead of the thousand-page runes dictionary, as the latter may very well have given me a concussion. "Have you always been such a sadistic bastard, or is this a new development?"
"Have you always had that stick shoved so far up your ass?" I replied mildly, wincing as I touched the mark on my forehead. There'd be an impressive bruise there in the morning. "Really, Draco, was it necessary to throw a /book/ at me? Wouldn't something less damaging have sufficed?"
"Not if I wanted it to hurt," Draco growled.
"Now, why would you want that?"
"Don't play stupid, Blaise," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "You know why."
"No, I don't. Why don't you explain it to me?" I said sarcastically. "And could you use charts and diagrams? I might get confused otherwise."
I could almost hear Draco's teeth grinding together. "I'm not going to waste my time with you if you're not going to be reasonable."
"I feel I'm being /very/ reasonable, Draco," I said crossly. "After all, I'm not the one who's throwing books at people."
"Oh, sure. Now /I'm/ the bad guy," Draco said peevishly. "Let's just dump everything on Draco, shall we?"
"Sounds good to me," I grumbled.
Draco glared. "Fuck off, Zabini."
At this point, I gave in to my adolescent impulses and chucked Draco's book back at him, smiling grimly as it bounced off his arm and landed on his still-wet Ancient Runes assignment, successfully smudging it beyond recognition. It took me about half a second to realize that, judging by the expression on Draco's face, I really didn't want to be around much longer unless I fancied a trip to see Madam Pomfrey. Thus, I rolled off my bed and ducked out of the room before Draco could think of something really nasty to do to me.
For lack of anything better to do, I strolled up the stairs to the Common Room, but quickly decided it'd be a bad idea to stay there very long since Pansy--now completely snake-free, unfortunately--and her entourage were occupying the most comfortable chairs, gossiping about something or other. With my options now severely limited, I ended up leaving the Slytherin dorms completely and wandering the halls, regardless of the fact that curfew was in less than an hour. Detention is an insignificant thing when one has his life to consider.
I roamed the darkened hallways, fuming about the unfairness of it all and only paying enough attention to my surroundings to note places to hide should a teacher come along. It was something of a surprise, then, to find myself by the statue of Eric the Iridescent, which I knew to be miles from the Slytherin dorms. I glanced at my watch, which read a quarter to eleven, and sighed. Hopefully, Draco would be sleeping by now so I wouldn't have to dodge any hexes when I returned to the dungeons.
With this thought in mind, I began the long trek through the corridors, the sporadically-placed torches casting eerie shadows on the walls. This was one of the few times I was actually grateful to have spent part of my childhood with Fae; thanks to her, I was thoroughly acquainted with the night and could find my way without too much trouble. Still, it was slow going since I had to be relatively quiet to avoid anyone's notice.
Several minutes later, I eased down a hidden stairway between the second and third floors, then stopped at what looked like a stone wall and listened intently to be sure no one else was around. The odd thing about this passage was that it wasn't hidden by a tapestry or portrait like most of the others, but was simply concealed by an Illusion Charm--which was designed to look exactly like the wall around it--and a conveniently placed suit of armor. As a result, it wasn't all that hard to discover as long as you weren't looking for it.
I was surprised when I heard someone shift slightly from just beyond the "wall"--it /was/ past curfew, after all. All was explained a second later as incautious footsteps echoed slightly down the corridor. Realizing the first person must be a student, I stepped a bit closer to the passage's exit, my curiosity getting the better of me. Who would be up at this hour?
Tentatively, I poked my head through the wall and almost laughed when I saw who it was. Ginny Weasley was peeking around the front of the suit of armor, looking a bit paler than normal. That was perfectly understandable, considering that Filch was no more than twenty feet away, standing stiffly where the corridor forked and peering about for signs of the renegade student.
"Come on out," Filch said, his voice resonating through the otherwise silent passageway. "There's nowhere for you to hide."
I resisted the urge to curse under my breath. The whole operation would be so much easier if he hadn't known anyone was there. Normally, it wouldn't have been a problem; I /was/ the one in the secret passage, after all, and that was much better than being the one outside who didn't know salvation was mere inches away.
However, I was feeling unusually gracious at the moment, and besides, this was /Ginny/. I couldn't just leave her at the mercy of a madman.
Hurriedly, I ran through my options, finally deciding on the quickest and most direct approach. I stepped fully into the corridor--it'd be a bit disturbing to see a head poking through a wall, after all--and made sure Filch was otherwise occupied as he checked in an alcove that held an old suit of armor. "Ginny."
Ginny, who had been busy panicking, spun around, her eyes wide with fear. I quickly covered her mouth with my hand as she looked ready to scream. "/Shhh!/" I whispered, glancing down the hall to make sure Filch hadn't heard anything. "Be quiet!" Realizing it was just me, Ginny visibly relaxed and nodded. I lowered my hand, infinitely thankful that at least one girl in Hogwarts had the sense to listen. "Follow me."
She nodded her assent. I backed into the secret passage, thoroughly enjoying Ginny's surprise as she walked through what she thought was a solid wall. Smirking, I turned and led her up the stairs as quickly as I dared. Filch undoubtedly knew about the stairway and would be prowling through it in a few minutes.
At the peak of the stairs, I pushed open a portrait and slipped out into the corridor with Ginny at my heels. We rushed around a corner and down a hallway that had nothing to boast but a solitary portrait of a young woman dressed in medieval-style clothing. Deciding a quick social call was in order, I skid to a stop in front of the painting. "Morgan?"
The woman, who was dozing at her cluttered desk, stirred slightly, but did not wake.
"Oh, /honestly/," I muttered, then rapped sharply on the portrait frame. "Wake up, Morgan!"
Morgan snapped to attention. "I'm awake!" she said loudly, glancing about sleepily for the one who'd addressed her. Settling her gaze on me, she sighed loudly. "Oh, it's you, Blaise. To what do I owe the honor?"
"I was wondering if you would do me a favor," I said, giving her my most winning smile.
"Somehow, I'm not surprised," Morgan said, brushing a few dark locks out of her eyes. "You never come by just to talk like a normal person. /No/, the only time you come is to leech off my generosity."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "I haven't got time to argue with you, Morgan. Are you going to help me or not?"
Morgan crossed her arms and scowled. "I suppose I'll have to. Really, I don't know how you'd survive if I wasn't around to save your hide--"
"Look, all I need is for you to persuade Sir Michael to keep is portrait hole shut," I said quickly before Morgan could go on one of her tirades. "Do you think you can manage that?"
Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "Oh, I can manage, all right," Morgan grumbled, pushing herself up from her chair. "I think a wild rabbit could manage that coward." With that, she disappeared through the side of the painting.
Smiling, I turned and headed in the opposite direction at a much more relaxed pace than before. For now, at least, we were safe.
"Well, she was pleasant," Ginny said dryly, falling into step beside me. "Who /was/ that, anyway?"
I smirked. "That, my dear, was Morgan la Fey. Don't mind her attitude; she's always like that."
Ginny looked at me skeptically. "Morgan la Fey? Wasn't she supposed to be really evil?"
I shrugged. "Well, I'm sure she was worse when she first got here, but spending a thousand years in an empty hallway would mellow anyone out, I suppose."
"Or make them even more bitter," Ginny pointed out.
"Or that. But there's really not much a person can do about it when they're stuck in a painting, is there?"
"No, I suppose not," she said thoughtfully. The next few minutes passed in a pensive sort of silence as we made our way carefully through the castle. It wouldn't do at all if we escaped Filch only to be caught by someone else.
"Blaise," Ginny said finally as we climbed yet another flight of stairs. "What are you doing out here?"
"Rescuing you, of course," I said cheekily.
Ginny smiled and punched my arm. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."
"All right, if you must know, I was going for a walk."
"A walk? In the middle of the night?" Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, it wasn't the middle of the night when I /left/, obviously."
"And you just decided to wander around a few hours, searching for maidens in distress?"
"Basically, yes." Ginny looked at me incredulously. "Well, what do you want me to say?," I asked. "That I'm out here to avoid being slaughtered by my best friend, who, for some reason, doesn't approve of people turning his girlfriend's hair into snakes? Is that want you want to hear?"
Ginny blinked, trying to make sense of what I'd said. Then her eyes went wide. "/You/ were the one that did that?'
"Yes, actually," I said. "Who were you expecting, Lockhart?"
"Well, no," she conceded. "But you just never seemed the type to do something like that. It's more like something Fred and George would get involved in."
"Well, that's why they always get caught and I don't," I said frankly. "If you don't fit the profile, you can get away with anything."
"You're a Slytherin, but they still don't suspect you?" Ginny asked. "No fair!"
"What can I say?" I asked, smirking. "The teachers love me. Of course, that's probably because I'm the only Slytherin who doesn't sleep the whole time, but the fact still remains that they think I'm a somewhat decent person."
"'Somewhat decent'?" Ginny echoed. "Hardly. A somewhat decent person would've left me to Filch and saved himself." She glanced at me, a grin playing at her lips. "What you did was almost worthy of a Gryffindor."
"Remind me to never do anything like that again, then," I said with a slight grimace. "And I'd appreciate if you didn't mention that to anyone else; it'd completely shatter my image."
"Like anyone would believe me," Ginny replied, smiling. "Slytherins aren't capable of being respectable in any way, after all."
"Silly me," I said dryly. "I forgot for a moment there."
Over the course of our conversation, we'd climbed several floors and, to the best of my knowledge, were fast approaching Gryffindor Tower. I wasn't sure of its exact location, of course, but every respectable Slytherin had a pretty good idea.
Ginny must have realized this as well. "Is there a special reason why you're following me?"
"I'm not," I said innocently.
"Oh, sorry," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Let me reword that: Why are you stalking me? Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I'm quite certain the dungeons aren't on this floor."
"I'm not /stalking/ you, Ginny," I said, trying to sound offended. "I prefer to call it 'escorting'. 'Stalking' just has such a negative connotation to it."
"Oh, well if you're /escorting/ me, I suppose it's all right."
"I'm glad you see it my way," I said with a grin.
Ginny smiled, pausing beside a small side-passage. "Still, this is where I'll leave you. Any farther and you might discover our well-hidden and /very secret/ Common Room entrance."
"Hey, isn't that huge picture of a fat lady down there?" I asked casually. "The one in the pink dress?"
"No," she said flatly. "That's a different one."
"But I could've sworn--"
"No, you're wrong. That's a different corridor that looks exactly the same."
"Ah. My mistake."
"Anyway, I'm sure we both need our rest," Ginny said, backing down the hallway. "You know what tomorrow is don't you?"
"Er... Tuesday?"
"Exactly!" she replied, grinning. "'Night, Blaise."
"Goodnight, Ginny."
The girl turned and disappeared down the darkened hallway, leaving me to wander back down to the dungeons and wonder when I'd suddenly become the only normal person in the castle.
*******
A/N: Wow, I never expected such a strong reaction to Blaise's antics. Actually, I hadn't even considered that happening until that very moment, so you've got a randomly appearing plot bunny to thank for that one.
I apologize for this chapter dragging on so much and taking so long to get done. I knew where I wanted to go, but I wasn't sure how I should get there. Also, I'm finding school a lot harder this year, thanks to College Algebra. On average, I've spent two hours a day trying to make sense of it, but math has always been my worst subject by far. As disturbing as it sounds, it was actually a relief to go back to work this weekend. No homework!
Anyway, cheerleading is very stressful. It's just my luck that my team is made up entirely of egotistical wenches who whine like spoiled two-year- olds if things aren't exactly the way they want it to be. In addition to that, our district is thinking of cutting cheerleading altogether, and their final decision hinges on how well our team does this season. Our coaches told us to spend every free second on cheerleading, but guess what? /I'm not!/ *gasp! shock!* I'm such a bad kid.
On the plus side, my email's spam-control filter thing has suddenly decided to work. Aren't you glad?
Next chapter: Conflicts of interest and a dash of Gryffindors. Stir well and let boil.
Rosaline: I realize it was awfully mean to put Blaise next to Pansy the whole match, but, like I've said before, I'm just not a very nice person. Besides, it made the whole thing more fun for me to write. So there!
Gkey: Hey, Draco's not /that/ bad of a Quidditch player. The way I see it, he almost always catches the Snitch, with the obvious exception of when he plays against Harry.
JeanB: *hides* Please don't hurt me! I'll do anything you want! .... oh, you were kidding? Right, I knew that. *laughs nervously* I'm glad you're willing to wait a month for a chapter, even though you really shouldn't have to. Anyway, I think there'll be some Gryffs in the next chapter, so keep your fingers crossed.
Sequ3stered: Why is everyone threatening me today? Golly, I might get the impression you people don't like me... You want Draco to die? I'm sure that could be arranged, but not before Pansy is taken care of, if you know what I mean.
TheStarsBright: *gasp* I'm on your favorites list? Oh, I think I might just pass out from happiness... I'm not sure how that works, but still.
Kirjava Deamon: Hey, I can't tell you if Blaise and Ginny will get together! Why, you ask? Because I don't know! So there! By the way, if you want a lake, I'm sure the state government would be more than willing to loan you one. They might not have any money, but they've got lakes up the wazoo!
Faxton: I suppose I can forgive you for taking a few days to review if you can forgive me for taking such an atrociously long time to update. Deal? I wouldn't want to lose my most loyal reviewer because of uncontrollable circumstances, or even controllable ones, for that matter.
SuperHyperBerryBomb: Ahh! They're dying off! Quick, throw in a contrived plot device! We may still be able to save her!... *cough* Anyway, as fun as it would be to set Fae after Pansy, I don't think Blaise would go for it. He'd rather take care of it himself. *grins evilly* Fun, fun...
Dark Comet: *thinking hard* Pansy... and a cupboard... I don't understand... *someone rushes in, whispers something in her ear, then promptly disappears. Akamu's eyes go wide* Ohhhhhhh! That's just /wrong!/
Thanks to all my reviewers! You're my motivation to keep plugging along, even when all I want to do is pass out on the couch. Also, if the next chapter takes this long to get out, you have full permission to send steaming piles of crap to my door. Kudos!
It didn't at all help that I currently had not one, but /two/ half-finished Transfiguration essays spread out in front of me. One, of course, was the one I had to rewrite because Pansy had ruined the first copy, but the fact still remained that I was currently doing two assignments for the /same class/. The act went against all laws of nature and, quite frankly, it was rather frightening.
Thus, I took a break from actual work and spent half an hour doodling, simply to prove I could. It wasn't quite as relaxing as, say, chopping some unfortunate thing in half, but it took my mind off my present circumstances, which was all I wanted at the moment.
I was just adding the finishing touches to a rather violent sketch involving a dragon, a wooden stake, and a crudely-drawn girl when Ryan pulled up a chair across from me. "I see you're in an unusually good mood today," he said dryly, nodding toward my picture. "I'm guessing the one who's having her heart gouged out is our own Miss Parkinson?"
"Gee, how'd you guess?" I asked sarcastically.
"I'm just lucky, I suppose," Ryan replied nonchalantly. "Though that display at dinner may have cued me in a bit."
I groaned. "Was it really that obvious?"
"To me, yes," Ryan said, pulling his Charms book from his bag. "Then again, I know you've been dying to hex her for a very long time."
"And how," I agreed, then frowned. "Why the hell did I just say that? It doesn't even make sense."
Ryan shrugged. "It's just an expression, Blaise. It's not supposed to."
"Right," I said, leaning back on my chair and twirling a quill idly between my fingers. "How long do you suppose it'll take Madam Pomfrey to turn Pansy's hair back to normal?"
"Probably not too long," he said sadly. "Of course, that's assuming she knows which curse you used. Where did you find it, by the way?"
I smirked. "Ryan, I come from a long line of Slytherins. We've got a whole section in our library devoted to hexes." I declined to mention that most of these hadn't been touched for ages, at least since Gran took up residence there.
"Really? You'll have to show me it sometime," Ryan said. "All we have at my house are cookbooks and how-to manuals."
"You poor, lost soul," I said pityingly. "How do you /live/?"
"Very dully," he said frankly. "If I hadn't gotten messed up with you, I'd probably be just like Terry Boot: boring and respectable."
"And an egotistical prat," I reminded him.
"Ah, yes. That too," he conceded. "How he ever became a prefect, I haven't a clue."
"By being boring and respectable, obviously."
"Shut up, Blaise."
*******
I wasn't really looking forward to seeing Draco again. It was quite possible that he'd thought about the situation and realized I had every reason to hate his girlfriend, and thus wasn't angry with me anymore. On the other hand, he may have been so pissed off that he had set my bed on fire. Either way, it would be an awkward predicament, but since we live in the same dorm, it wasn't an avoidable one.
It was totally understandable, therefore, that I was rather cautious when entering my dorm room. The last thing I wanted was to be turned into a newt before I was even fully inside. Thankfully, Draco was busy with his Ancient Runes assignment, which he had left until the last minute, as per usual, and barely acknowledged my presence as I crossed the room and threw myself onto my bed.
I kicked off my shoes and let them fall loudly to the floor, earning an annoyed glance from Draco, which I gladly returned. Had I been prone to childish outbursts, I'd have thrown something at him. As it was, I proceeded to work on a star chart for Astronomy and made as much noise as humanly possible while doing so. I ruffled my papers every few seconds, slammed books shut whenever I wasn't using them that instant (or if I just felt like it), and generally made a nuisance of myself. It was great fun.
Draco, to his credit, tried to ignore me, but Malfoys aren't known for their patience or tolerance, especially when they're already having a rather bad day. He lasted roughly ten minutes before he leveled a glare at me and snapped, "Is there something you'd like to share, Blaise?"
"No, I'm just doing this for the hell of it," I said cheerfully, labeling one last star with flourish and setting the parchment aside.
Draco, apparently dissatisfied with my response, saw fit to throw his Ancient Runes text at my head. I was immensely thankful that it was the slimmer grammar reference book instead of the thousand-page runes dictionary, as the latter may very well have given me a concussion. "Have you always been such a sadistic bastard, or is this a new development?"
"Have you always had that stick shoved so far up your ass?" I replied mildly, wincing as I touched the mark on my forehead. There'd be an impressive bruise there in the morning. "Really, Draco, was it necessary to throw a /book/ at me? Wouldn't something less damaging have sufficed?"
"Not if I wanted it to hurt," Draco growled.
"Now, why would you want that?"
"Don't play stupid, Blaise," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "You know why."
"No, I don't. Why don't you explain it to me?" I said sarcastically. "And could you use charts and diagrams? I might get confused otherwise."
I could almost hear Draco's teeth grinding together. "I'm not going to waste my time with you if you're not going to be reasonable."
"I feel I'm being /very/ reasonable, Draco," I said crossly. "After all, I'm not the one who's throwing books at people."
"Oh, sure. Now /I'm/ the bad guy," Draco said peevishly. "Let's just dump everything on Draco, shall we?"
"Sounds good to me," I grumbled.
Draco glared. "Fuck off, Zabini."
At this point, I gave in to my adolescent impulses and chucked Draco's book back at him, smiling grimly as it bounced off his arm and landed on his still-wet Ancient Runes assignment, successfully smudging it beyond recognition. It took me about half a second to realize that, judging by the expression on Draco's face, I really didn't want to be around much longer unless I fancied a trip to see Madam Pomfrey. Thus, I rolled off my bed and ducked out of the room before Draco could think of something really nasty to do to me.
For lack of anything better to do, I strolled up the stairs to the Common Room, but quickly decided it'd be a bad idea to stay there very long since Pansy--now completely snake-free, unfortunately--and her entourage were occupying the most comfortable chairs, gossiping about something or other. With my options now severely limited, I ended up leaving the Slytherin dorms completely and wandering the halls, regardless of the fact that curfew was in less than an hour. Detention is an insignificant thing when one has his life to consider.
I roamed the darkened hallways, fuming about the unfairness of it all and only paying enough attention to my surroundings to note places to hide should a teacher come along. It was something of a surprise, then, to find myself by the statue of Eric the Iridescent, which I knew to be miles from the Slytherin dorms. I glanced at my watch, which read a quarter to eleven, and sighed. Hopefully, Draco would be sleeping by now so I wouldn't have to dodge any hexes when I returned to the dungeons.
With this thought in mind, I began the long trek through the corridors, the sporadically-placed torches casting eerie shadows on the walls. This was one of the few times I was actually grateful to have spent part of my childhood with Fae; thanks to her, I was thoroughly acquainted with the night and could find my way without too much trouble. Still, it was slow going since I had to be relatively quiet to avoid anyone's notice.
Several minutes later, I eased down a hidden stairway between the second and third floors, then stopped at what looked like a stone wall and listened intently to be sure no one else was around. The odd thing about this passage was that it wasn't hidden by a tapestry or portrait like most of the others, but was simply concealed by an Illusion Charm--which was designed to look exactly like the wall around it--and a conveniently placed suit of armor. As a result, it wasn't all that hard to discover as long as you weren't looking for it.
I was surprised when I heard someone shift slightly from just beyond the "wall"--it /was/ past curfew, after all. All was explained a second later as incautious footsteps echoed slightly down the corridor. Realizing the first person must be a student, I stepped a bit closer to the passage's exit, my curiosity getting the better of me. Who would be up at this hour?
Tentatively, I poked my head through the wall and almost laughed when I saw who it was. Ginny Weasley was peeking around the front of the suit of armor, looking a bit paler than normal. That was perfectly understandable, considering that Filch was no more than twenty feet away, standing stiffly where the corridor forked and peering about for signs of the renegade student.
"Come on out," Filch said, his voice resonating through the otherwise silent passageway. "There's nowhere for you to hide."
I resisted the urge to curse under my breath. The whole operation would be so much easier if he hadn't known anyone was there. Normally, it wouldn't have been a problem; I /was/ the one in the secret passage, after all, and that was much better than being the one outside who didn't know salvation was mere inches away.
However, I was feeling unusually gracious at the moment, and besides, this was /Ginny/. I couldn't just leave her at the mercy of a madman.
Hurriedly, I ran through my options, finally deciding on the quickest and most direct approach. I stepped fully into the corridor--it'd be a bit disturbing to see a head poking through a wall, after all--and made sure Filch was otherwise occupied as he checked in an alcove that held an old suit of armor. "Ginny."
Ginny, who had been busy panicking, spun around, her eyes wide with fear. I quickly covered her mouth with my hand as she looked ready to scream. "/Shhh!/" I whispered, glancing down the hall to make sure Filch hadn't heard anything. "Be quiet!" Realizing it was just me, Ginny visibly relaxed and nodded. I lowered my hand, infinitely thankful that at least one girl in Hogwarts had the sense to listen. "Follow me."
She nodded her assent. I backed into the secret passage, thoroughly enjoying Ginny's surprise as she walked through what she thought was a solid wall. Smirking, I turned and led her up the stairs as quickly as I dared. Filch undoubtedly knew about the stairway and would be prowling through it in a few minutes.
At the peak of the stairs, I pushed open a portrait and slipped out into the corridor with Ginny at my heels. We rushed around a corner and down a hallway that had nothing to boast but a solitary portrait of a young woman dressed in medieval-style clothing. Deciding a quick social call was in order, I skid to a stop in front of the painting. "Morgan?"
The woman, who was dozing at her cluttered desk, stirred slightly, but did not wake.
"Oh, /honestly/," I muttered, then rapped sharply on the portrait frame. "Wake up, Morgan!"
Morgan snapped to attention. "I'm awake!" she said loudly, glancing about sleepily for the one who'd addressed her. Settling her gaze on me, she sighed loudly. "Oh, it's you, Blaise. To what do I owe the honor?"
"I was wondering if you would do me a favor," I said, giving her my most winning smile.
"Somehow, I'm not surprised," Morgan said, brushing a few dark locks out of her eyes. "You never come by just to talk like a normal person. /No/, the only time you come is to leech off my generosity."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "I haven't got time to argue with you, Morgan. Are you going to help me or not?"
Morgan crossed her arms and scowled. "I suppose I'll have to. Really, I don't know how you'd survive if I wasn't around to save your hide--"
"Look, all I need is for you to persuade Sir Michael to keep is portrait hole shut," I said quickly before Morgan could go on one of her tirades. "Do you think you can manage that?"
Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "Oh, I can manage, all right," Morgan grumbled, pushing herself up from her chair. "I think a wild rabbit could manage that coward." With that, she disappeared through the side of the painting.
Smiling, I turned and headed in the opposite direction at a much more relaxed pace than before. For now, at least, we were safe.
"Well, she was pleasant," Ginny said dryly, falling into step beside me. "Who /was/ that, anyway?"
I smirked. "That, my dear, was Morgan la Fey. Don't mind her attitude; she's always like that."
Ginny looked at me skeptically. "Morgan la Fey? Wasn't she supposed to be really evil?"
I shrugged. "Well, I'm sure she was worse when she first got here, but spending a thousand years in an empty hallway would mellow anyone out, I suppose."
"Or make them even more bitter," Ginny pointed out.
"Or that. But there's really not much a person can do about it when they're stuck in a painting, is there?"
"No, I suppose not," she said thoughtfully. The next few minutes passed in a pensive sort of silence as we made our way carefully through the castle. It wouldn't do at all if we escaped Filch only to be caught by someone else.
"Blaise," Ginny said finally as we climbed yet another flight of stairs. "What are you doing out here?"
"Rescuing you, of course," I said cheekily.
Ginny smiled and punched my arm. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."
"All right, if you must know, I was going for a walk."
"A walk? In the middle of the night?" Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, it wasn't the middle of the night when I /left/, obviously."
"And you just decided to wander around a few hours, searching for maidens in distress?"
"Basically, yes." Ginny looked at me incredulously. "Well, what do you want me to say?," I asked. "That I'm out here to avoid being slaughtered by my best friend, who, for some reason, doesn't approve of people turning his girlfriend's hair into snakes? Is that want you want to hear?"
Ginny blinked, trying to make sense of what I'd said. Then her eyes went wide. "/You/ were the one that did that?'
"Yes, actually," I said. "Who were you expecting, Lockhart?"
"Well, no," she conceded. "But you just never seemed the type to do something like that. It's more like something Fred and George would get involved in."
"Well, that's why they always get caught and I don't," I said frankly. "If you don't fit the profile, you can get away with anything."
"You're a Slytherin, but they still don't suspect you?" Ginny asked. "No fair!"
"What can I say?" I asked, smirking. "The teachers love me. Of course, that's probably because I'm the only Slytherin who doesn't sleep the whole time, but the fact still remains that they think I'm a somewhat decent person."
"'Somewhat decent'?" Ginny echoed. "Hardly. A somewhat decent person would've left me to Filch and saved himself." She glanced at me, a grin playing at her lips. "What you did was almost worthy of a Gryffindor."
"Remind me to never do anything like that again, then," I said with a slight grimace. "And I'd appreciate if you didn't mention that to anyone else; it'd completely shatter my image."
"Like anyone would believe me," Ginny replied, smiling. "Slytherins aren't capable of being respectable in any way, after all."
"Silly me," I said dryly. "I forgot for a moment there."
Over the course of our conversation, we'd climbed several floors and, to the best of my knowledge, were fast approaching Gryffindor Tower. I wasn't sure of its exact location, of course, but every respectable Slytherin had a pretty good idea.
Ginny must have realized this as well. "Is there a special reason why you're following me?"
"I'm not," I said innocently.
"Oh, sorry," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Let me reword that: Why are you stalking me? Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I'm quite certain the dungeons aren't on this floor."
"I'm not /stalking/ you, Ginny," I said, trying to sound offended. "I prefer to call it 'escorting'. 'Stalking' just has such a negative connotation to it."
"Oh, well if you're /escorting/ me, I suppose it's all right."
"I'm glad you see it my way," I said with a grin.
Ginny smiled, pausing beside a small side-passage. "Still, this is where I'll leave you. Any farther and you might discover our well-hidden and /very secret/ Common Room entrance."
"Hey, isn't that huge picture of a fat lady down there?" I asked casually. "The one in the pink dress?"
"No," she said flatly. "That's a different one."
"But I could've sworn--"
"No, you're wrong. That's a different corridor that looks exactly the same."
"Ah. My mistake."
"Anyway, I'm sure we both need our rest," Ginny said, backing down the hallway. "You know what tomorrow is don't you?"
"Er... Tuesday?"
"Exactly!" she replied, grinning. "'Night, Blaise."
"Goodnight, Ginny."
The girl turned and disappeared down the darkened hallway, leaving me to wander back down to the dungeons and wonder when I'd suddenly become the only normal person in the castle.
*******
A/N: Wow, I never expected such a strong reaction to Blaise's antics. Actually, I hadn't even considered that happening until that very moment, so you've got a randomly appearing plot bunny to thank for that one.
I apologize for this chapter dragging on so much and taking so long to get done. I knew where I wanted to go, but I wasn't sure how I should get there. Also, I'm finding school a lot harder this year, thanks to College Algebra. On average, I've spent two hours a day trying to make sense of it, but math has always been my worst subject by far. As disturbing as it sounds, it was actually a relief to go back to work this weekend. No homework!
Anyway, cheerleading is very stressful. It's just my luck that my team is made up entirely of egotistical wenches who whine like spoiled two-year- olds if things aren't exactly the way they want it to be. In addition to that, our district is thinking of cutting cheerleading altogether, and their final decision hinges on how well our team does this season. Our coaches told us to spend every free second on cheerleading, but guess what? /I'm not!/ *gasp! shock!* I'm such a bad kid.
On the plus side, my email's spam-control filter thing has suddenly decided to work. Aren't you glad?
Next chapter: Conflicts of interest and a dash of Gryffindors. Stir well and let boil.
Rosaline: I realize it was awfully mean to put Blaise next to Pansy the whole match, but, like I've said before, I'm just not a very nice person. Besides, it made the whole thing more fun for me to write. So there!
Gkey: Hey, Draco's not /that/ bad of a Quidditch player. The way I see it, he almost always catches the Snitch, with the obvious exception of when he plays against Harry.
JeanB: *hides* Please don't hurt me! I'll do anything you want! .... oh, you were kidding? Right, I knew that. *laughs nervously* I'm glad you're willing to wait a month for a chapter, even though you really shouldn't have to. Anyway, I think there'll be some Gryffs in the next chapter, so keep your fingers crossed.
Sequ3stered: Why is everyone threatening me today? Golly, I might get the impression you people don't like me... You want Draco to die? I'm sure that could be arranged, but not before Pansy is taken care of, if you know what I mean.
TheStarsBright: *gasp* I'm on your favorites list? Oh, I think I might just pass out from happiness... I'm not sure how that works, but still.
Kirjava Deamon: Hey, I can't tell you if Blaise and Ginny will get together! Why, you ask? Because I don't know! So there! By the way, if you want a lake, I'm sure the state government would be more than willing to loan you one. They might not have any money, but they've got lakes up the wazoo!
Faxton: I suppose I can forgive you for taking a few days to review if you can forgive me for taking such an atrociously long time to update. Deal? I wouldn't want to lose my most loyal reviewer because of uncontrollable circumstances, or even controllable ones, for that matter.
SuperHyperBerryBomb: Ahh! They're dying off! Quick, throw in a contrived plot device! We may still be able to save her!... *cough* Anyway, as fun as it would be to set Fae after Pansy, I don't think Blaise would go for it. He'd rather take care of it himself. *grins evilly* Fun, fun...
Dark Comet: *thinking hard* Pansy... and a cupboard... I don't understand... *someone rushes in, whispers something in her ear, then promptly disappears. Akamu's eyes go wide* Ohhhhhhh! That's just /wrong!/
Thanks to all my reviewers! You're my motivation to keep plugging along, even when all I want to do is pass out on the couch. Also, if the next chapter takes this long to get out, you have full permission to send steaming piles of crap to my door. Kudos!