Disclaimer: never did and never will own it. J.K. Rowling does.
Spoilers: Order of the Phoenix
~ The Power Of A Squib - Friendships ~
Thank you for your reviews! Sorry for the delay, I got caught up in real life and I tried to finish Salazar's Heir, which is now complete!
Shannon: ack! Thank you so much for telling me about my mistakes! I fixed them as soon as I received your review.
Neville was not happy. Even though he had been overjoyed when Severus had told him he could sit the Potions NEWT, his joy had soon been tarnished by the unexpected reluctance from Albus to write down his name on the list of students. Neville protested fiercely, even claiming that Severus had agreed; Albus received the claim with scepticism and sent Neville on his way, refusing to hear more about the subject.
Despaired, Neville wandered in the corridors until his feet led him to the door of the Head Girl's rooms. He contemplated it thoughtfully, not caring for the portrait who was getting quite annoyed to be so openly ignored. He still hadn't reached a decision when the Knight of the portrait huffed in impatience, threw on the round the huge sword he was using against the fierce dragon facing him, and disappeared altogether from the painting. Neville blinked when the dragon breathed fire, vexed that the confrontation had to be postponed.
The Knight reappeared only moment later and at the same moment, the door opened on Hermione.
"See, my lady, exactly as I told you! This young man should not be standing in front of your door in such a way. It could be very harmful to your reputation! I would have challenged him, but he didn't even deign to look at me!"
"Thank you, Sir George, I appreciate your coming to tell me of the situation," Hermione interrupted softly. "Hello, Cinnabar," she added, gently tickling the red dragon behind the ears. "Don't get so fierce-looking, Neville is a friend."
Neville, bewildered, looked at her, then at the painting, from which a loud purring was coming. Obviously the dragon enjoyed the attention, while the Knight was slightly sulking.
"Thank you again, Sir George," said Hermione. "Every day proves again and again that the choice of your portrait for guarding the Head Girl's door was well-founded."
The Knight beamed with pride before seizing his sword and turning to the dragon.
"Stand forth and do battle, you foul snake!" he exclaimed belligerently.
Cinnabar huffed in annoyance and Neville could have sworn that it was rolling its eyes. Then it breathed fire on Sir George, who jumped back. Hermione grabbed Neville by the arm and pulled him inside.
"Come in!" she hissed quietly. "If you watch them, they'll be at it for hours and then they will have nothing to do except nurse their wounds. Believe me, you don't want to meet Cinnabar when he's wounded."
"Er…" was all that Neville could manage to say.
"Well?" she said with brisk efficiency. "What brought you to my door?"
"Dumbledore… my NEWT… I was so proud, Hermione, so very proud!" he stammered, beginning to pace nervously in the room that served as an office. "I wanted to make Elena proud also and even Snape! But no!"
"Calm down, Neville. What did Dumbledore say about your Potions NEWT?"
Suddenly Neville stopped his pacing and faced her with a brief, bitter laugh.
"In short, that I was delusional and that in no way Snape would have allowed me to sit my NEWT."
Hermione frowned.
"Didn't he ask for Snape to come up in his office?"
"Nope. Nothing. And he doesn't want to hear about it anymore. So, you see, it's over before it even began!"
"Shut up, Neville, will you?" she said between clenched teeth. "There's nothing that can't be fixed. Let's go see Snape."
Neville blanched and backed up.
"Are you crazy? He will only take points from us if we bother him with such a subject!"
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"And he's the big bad wolf who swallowed the three little pigs in one go," she replied sarcastically. "Honestly, Neville, do you even believe what you're saying? The man went out of his way to find you a teacher, he followed your progress without you knowing it and now, you criticise him!"
"I thought you went to Elena."
She sighed in exasperation.
"I'm Head Girl, Neville," she said as if it explained everything. "By the way, aren't supposed to meet Snape today?"
"He's going to kill me…" he moaned, struck with horror.
"Probably," she agreed readily. "I think I heard him say he needed some human parts for potions. It should be easy to transform you into potions ingredients."
"Very funny. Alright, I overreacted. Since you insist, we will go to him!"
"He what?" exclaimed Severus, very close to losing his calm.
Neville was already opening his mouth to repeat it, but Severus raised a hand to stop him.
"I know what you said," he grumbled. "Typical from Albus!"
"Typical?" repeated Neville, trying his best to hide the quivering in his voice. "Are you saying he's evil, sir?"
"I'm saying you're not Potter. No, he's not evil. He just dislikes having facts hidden from him. It's his way to lure me into his lair before making me confess everything."
"Elena?" whispered Neville.
Severus glared at him.
"Maybe Elena, though Albus probably knew of her presence all along. It would have been surprising if no portrait or house elf hadn't told on her. But we will keep her out of this. If Albus asks you who was your tutor, Mr. Longbottom, you are to answer that I was. Due credit will be given to Elena in time. Now, I believe we have a potion to brew."
Spidery scrawl appeared on the black board.
"This is not a difficult potion, Mr. Longbottom, but it needs accuracy and attention. The times are very precise. I will let you start on you own as I need to speak with Miss Granger and as soon as you'll be done, we will go to the Headmaster."
He opened the back door of the classroom and motioned Hermione in.
"One last thing, Mr. Longbottom: if, like Elena claims, you did indeed learn the sixth and seventh year syllabi on your own, you probably recognise this potion and thus you know that any mistake in the times can be disastrous. Do be careful, Mr. Longbottom."
He let Neville gaping at him and closed the door behind him.
"What does the Headmaster want to know? Elena? I thought he knew about her being an Animagus! Should we have told him that she became human again?"
"Or it could be us, Hermione."
"Us? But–"
"I know we have been careful but sometimes it's not enough. I don't know but I won't let Albus win this one, I promise."
"We've done nothing wrong."
"I know that, but Albus can be singularly narrow-minded as soon as it does not concern his precious Gryffindors."
"I am a Gryffindor."
"You are, but you are not Potter."
Hermione sniffed disdainfully.
"His need for Harry ended with the disappearance of Voldemort."
"Don't pronounce his name!" he hissed mechanically. "Albus has nothing of a war leader. He does not understand that some of the Death Eaters still free have enough will and charisma to start all over again. He forgets that Bellatrix is still free and even though she's grieving for the Dark Lord's death, it makes her even more dangerous."
"Harry didn't forget," said Hermione darkly.
"As long as he doesn't try to follow me under his blasted cloak, I don't care that much. Come, let's make sure Longbottom didn't kill himself."
He entered the room to see Neville with a big grin on his face, turning careful a ladle in his cauldron.
"From the look on your face," Severus said dryly, "I take it did go correctly until now."
"Yes, sir," said Neville, unable to wipe the grin off.
"I thought it was stipulated not to breathe the fumes, Mr. Longbottom."
"I know, sir, but I can't hold my breath long enough when I have to turn the potion for more than a minute."
"There are things that exist and are called masks, Mr. Longbottom."
Neville just nodded, obviously not caring one iota for what Severus was saying. The Potions Master shook his head and chuckled softly. Hermione stared in disbelief at the situation.
Half an hour later, the potion was finished and Neville's grin was bigger than before. Severus levitated two phials on the worktable and gave his instructions.
"The first phial, Mr. Longbottom, is for keeping the potion at the exact temperature it is now. The second one will allow it to cool down very quickly. Of course, you already knew this, didn't you?"
"Yes, sir," mumbled Neville, filling the phials and putting a lid on his cauldron.
The fumes dissipated and Neville's euphoria disappeared at the same time. He looked at Severus in horror, but the Potions Master only smirked before taking the two phials and shooing the students out of the room.
"Straight to the Headmaster's office, you two. And please do not eat any of those blasted sherbet lemons!"
Albus didn't seem too happy to see them, but Severus made as if he hadn't noticed the slight frown on the old wizard's brow.
"Is there something I can do for you, Severus?"
"Indeed, Albus," replied the Potions Master smoothly, sitting calmly, while Hermione and Neville stood behind his chair.
"Sherbet lemon?" asked Albus, offering the plate to Severus and motioning the two students who refused readily.
"Thank you, Albus."
To her stupefaction, Hermione saw Severus take a sweet and make as if he put it in his mouth… only that he didn't. The sherbet lemon disappeared somewhere in the Potions Master's pockets and the plate returned on Albus's desk, the Headmaster helping himself.
"Feel free to tell me if I'm wrong, Albus, but this very morning, young Mr. Longbottom came to you and asked you to put his name of the list of students allowed to sit the Potions NEWT. Unless I am heavily mistaken, you refused. May I know why?"
"He didn't follow the usual programme," replied Albus, a slow smile appearing on his lips.
The infernal twinkle was back in the depths of the blue eyes and Severus refrained from grinding his teeth. After all, everything was proceeding as planned.
"I believe Mr. Longbottom told you he had my approval on the subject."
Albus popped another sherbet lemon in his mouth and nodded.
"He did tell me so. I was convinced that one of his fellow Gryffindors had hexed him. Are you here to tell me he didn't lie?"
Neville straightened in anger: he most certainly hadn't lied!
"Honestly, Albus, do you think that Mr. Longbottom would dare to lie about something concerning to me? Everybody knows, since his third year, that I'm his most terrible fear."
"So now, you're going to tell me you took him under your wing and taught him all you know?" said Albus, apparently finding the idea very entertaining.
"Actually, I did. Mr. Longbottom has had private lessons in Potions and has proved to be an apt student."
Had Neville not been so outraged by the Headmaster's incredulity, he would have beamed with pride after hearing the first compliment he had ever heard his Potions Master utter.
Albus opened his mouth to answer, unable to hide his mirth, and then stopped suddenly, frowning.
"Why am I so joyful?
"That, Albus, would be the result of Mr. Longbottom's brewing skills. I hope you appreciate them."
He extended his hand and, without any warning, crashed a phial on Albus's desk. As soon as he breathed the fumes, the Headmaster beamed.
"Perfect Cheering Draught, Mr. Longbottom," commented Severus.
"Thank you, sir," replied Neville a bit puzzled when seeing Albus trying desperately to fight the unnatural cheer he was feeling.
He managed to glare before his eyes sparkled again.
"You win, Severus, but you will have some things to explain to me after the NEWTs."
"With pleasure, Albus. Do not forget to add Mr. Longbottom's name to the list. I would hate to make a scandal just before the Potions NEWT but I will if necessary."
Albus looked for a specific parchment, read the list already written on it, added a name at the end and handed it to Severus.
"Does it satisfy you?"
"Perfectly! Thank you, Albus, and have a good day."
As soon as they were outside the Headmaster's office, Neville exclaimed:
"He's never going to forgive me this one! He will change his mind during the day…"
"Actually he won't, since he will be intoxicated with mirth for the whole day. I emptied the whole phial of cold draught on his sherbet lemons."
To his horror, Neville would have sworn he was seeing a smile on his Potions Master's face!
"That will teach him to eat so many sweets," Severus concluded as if nothing had happened.
The NEWTs came and went, without any incident, except that the examiners for the Potions NEWT did look oddly at Neville and spent most of their time watching over his shoulder, which was very unnerving. Albus had made an appearance at the very beginning, but the forbidding presence of Severus, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, arms crossed on his chest, had made the Headmaster retreat.
When the Potions NEWT was over, Neville sighed heavily and smiled at Hermione. He nodded discreetly to Severus and left the classroom.
"Could we go thank Elena?" he asked. "I feel like I did wonders!"
"About that… I was told that you completed the Polyjuice potion under Elena's supervision," said Hermione, frowning. "How can it be since she only taught you two weeks?"
Neville looked sheepish.
"Actually, I had begun before she started teaching me. Ron indicated me Moaning Myrtle's bathroom to conduct my brewing."
"Boys…" muttered Hermione.
Elena was glad to see Neville – especially since he refrained from asking why she could only be found in Argus's office – and the fact that he had felt confident during his NEWT made her clap her hands like a little girl. Sometimes, Hermione found an uncanny resemblance between Elena and Sirius. Both of them had had a part of their life stolen from them and they were behaving as if they were doing their best to catch up. Except that now, Sirius was dead.
"Are you coming this evening, Hermione?" she asked, trying not to look too eager at the idea that the evening meetings would start again now that most of the NEWTs were done.
"No, I have to patrol tonight," she replied glumly. "Tomorrow evening, though, you can count on me! And I should be quite relaxed, since the last NEWT is tomorrow morning."
"We will all be there," Elena promised.
Neville was listening with surprise, since he didn't know anything about the meetings between, Argus, Elena, Severus and Hermione, but he didn't ask questions. Neville had learnt – quite the hard way – that the less he knew about Hermione's business, the better he was. After thanking Elena once again for her tutoring, he left, without any doubt to spend some time with Ginny, who had been very understanding lately with his hard work.
"Severus told me about Albus," said Elena, shooing Hermione inside Argus's office and then in her rooms. "Maybe I should go to him and tell him that I'm… back."
"If Severus didn't tell you himself to do so, you probably shouldn't. He told me himself that Bellatrix Lestrange is still free and she might want revenge on you for whichever reason. It would be better to wait until the last Death Eater is in Azkaban."
"It could be forever," sighed Elena, sinking on her bed.
"But you would still be with Argus and Severus."
Elena had a brief smile.
"Are you going to leave by the end of the year?"
"I don't know. Severus told me about becoming a Potions Mistress. He seems to believe that I could manage to achieve it during the holidays."
"Would you stay after?"
"I think I would like that. I could do some research, but then, I need to have some utility here."
Elena grinned impishly.
"You can still try to become an Animagus and patrol the corridors every evening!"
When Argus came back into his office, he heard laughter from Hermione and Elena in the next room and he suddenly felt very lonely.
As usual, Argus and Elena were already in the caretaker's office when Hermione arrived the following evening. Strangely, Severus was late. Thinking he maybe had to deal with some students, Hermione didn't worry and sat down before starting a new conversation with her two friends. Argus was telling, with humour, how he was progressing in his studies with the other professors – including the Defence Against the Dark Arts with Elena – but mentioned that Severus had been very busy this week and hadn't been able to give him any lesson in Potions. Hermione frowned, surprised, but before she could say anything, Severus entered the room without warning and strode straight to her. She stood up, afraid of the words he was going to say. He pulled her to him and buried his face in her hair.
"Death Eaters," he mumbled. "Tonight. I have to go; there's a chance for me to catch them all."
"Let me come!" she begged immediately. "I can ask Harry for his cloak and–"
"No, love, no. I want you to stay here. I need you to be safely at Hogwarts. It's for you and people like you that I do this, so that you can live in a – relatively – safe world. I can't put you in danger while trying to accomplish this."
Normally, Hermione would have argued until the end, but there was something in Severus's voice that prevented her from doing so. The fervour in his tone was not unusual – he let her see more of his emotions now that he had admitted his feelings for her – but the gentle pleading in it had never been here before. She hung her head in defeat.
"As you wish," she murmured brokenly.
"Severus, I'm coming with you!" said Argus with force.
"Actually, Argus, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to join me," said Severus cautiously, eyeing Hermione.
A flash of anger passed in her eyes, but disappeared almost immediately. She knew Argus wouldn't be suspected like she would be. He was a Slytherin and he was known for his bitterness; the latter was a good excuse for joining the Death Eaters. As for the former… well, not all Slytherins were Death Eaters – and not all Death Eaters were Slytherins – but it certainly helped.
"You will be a good element of surprise," continued Severus as he saw that Hermione had understood his reasons.
"I can help too!" intervened Elena.
Hermione's heart sank. She knew Argus wouldn't have the heart to deny Elena.
"I'm still an unregistered Animagus and nobody will be surprised to see me with Argus."
"Elena, it's dangerous. If you're discovered, you will be in great dangers and some wouldn't hesitate to betray you to the Ministry. Being an unregistered Animagus is not a good thing. Besides, Bellatrix–"
"I know. But I'm not defenceless and, Severus, I still have that."
She pulled up her left sleeve and exposed her inner arm. The flesh was scarred and torn but, still visible, there was the Dark Mark.
"We will have things to talk about later, Elena, especially about that. But for the moment… Argus, it's your decision. You know her better than me."
Hermione knew she had lost. Elena would go with them while she would stay behind, waiting and worrying.
"Argus, please…"
Elena had half a mind to use her touch to decide him – she knew the power she still had over him – but she decided it would invalidate her point.
"I can help, Argus. I'm a good witch."
Argus glanced at Hermione but she was looking down, her hair veiling her face.
"I know," murmured Elena. "She's great, better than me. But Severus would be devastated if something happened to her. Whereas me… who cares? Hermione gave me back my freedom and befriended me. Can't I help in making her world safer?"
"You can come," he said grudgingly.
Elena smiled at him, a true, genuine smile, and he blinked. Behind them, Severus shook his head, amused despite the moment. He looked at Hermione. She had retreated in a corner, her arms wrapped around her midriff, and she was turning her back to them. He walked to her and pulled her to him.
"I'm sorry," he murmured.
She shrugged.
"Don't think I like this medieval situation: the woman waiting patiently while the man goes to war!" she said, her voice thick.
He turned her to face him and, without caring for Argus and Elena's presence, he bent down to kiss her, thoroughly ravaging her mouth, and she clung to him desperately.
"Come back to me," she managed to gasp between kisses. "Promise!"
"I promise," he replied darkly, almost bruising her lips.
Suddenly, after one desperate kiss, he broke off and released her from his embrace.
"We have to go. Now."
She stopped him, her eyes set.
"This kiss tasted like good-bye. No such thing, Severus."
She brushed her lips against his, teasingly, knowing it drove him crazy.
"Gods, woman, this is not the moment," he groaned.
"This is a promise for much more when you return," she replied, her voice low.
"Hermione, we never–"
"Just come back to me, safe, and I will fulfil this promise."
Severus never had the time to reply as Argus dragged him outside.
Hermione was wandering in the corridors like a lost soul when, nearing Minerva's office, she had an idea. She was ready to knock at the door when a stern voice behind her startled her.
"Is there something I can do for you, Miss Granger?"
"Actually, yes, Professor. I have a question for you."
"Very well. I wanted to speak to you also."
The Transfiguration teacher murmured a password that Hermione didn't hear and entered her office. She motioned Hermione to take a seat; the young Gryffindor felt suddenly very nervous.
"Miss Granger, I talked with Argus Filch the day Mr. Malfoy was hit with Jelly-Legs and Furnunculus. He told me about what you did, how you gave him back his faith in himself. I doubt anyone will ever thank you for this, since I know Argus is very little appreciated, but I wanted to offer you my thanks."
"Um… well, uh, thank you, Professor," muttered Hermione, squirming in her seat. "It happens that I wanted to ask you something for Arg… Mr. Filch."
"Certainly, Miss Granger. Tell me, did you teach Argus the hexes he threw at Mr. Malfoy?"
Hermione nodded again, wondering if it would cause her to earn detention. Minerva looked sternly at her above her glasses.
"Miss Granger, I've known you to be better with jinxes. Surely you could have taught Argus something a bit more… lasting than Jelly-Legs and Furnunculus?"
She took a deep breath and decided that honesty would serve her best if she wanted Minerva to help her.
"Actually, I did. It was a spell that made Malfoy turn blue, but I made it invisible to the staff, except for Argus, naturally."
To Hermione's surprise, Minerva leaned back in her seat and laughed openly.
"Now I understand why we all thought Mr. Malfoy was becoming crazy! No wonder also that Poppy couldn't cure it. I recall something similar in your fifth year, Miss Granger."
Hermione managed to look quite sheepish, though the light still dancing in Minerva's eyes didn't help her, especially that she didn't regret at all punishing Marietta Edgecombe.
"One last question, Miss Granger. I know that Argus is now able to cast spells normally. The staff teaches him as we should have taught him when he was at school. But I know that Emmeline Vance doesn't teach him Defence Against the Dark Arts. Would you know who does?"
"Hum, Professor Snape does, Professor."
Minerva leaned forward.
"And is he the only one to teach him, Miss Granger?"
"Why… why didn't you ask Argus himself, Professor?"
"Because Argus is a Slytherin, Miss Granger, and he knows how to lie, even though he doesn't like it. Which is not really your case."
Hermione didn't answer and Minerva leaned back.
"So, I was right. Elena Norris is back."
Seeing the panic in Hermione's eyes, she smiled indulgently.
"I will tell no one, Miss Granger, don't worry."
"How do you know about Elena?"
"You forget something, Miss Granger: I am also an Animagus and, though the fact is little known, I also patrol the halls at night. Except that I try my best not being seen by students. I know that Mrs. Norris disappeared, then reappeared, always in your shadow. At first, I was afraid for you, I must confess. But I was there when Mr. Malfoy tried to attack you and Elena stepped in to stop him for doing so. As a matter of fact, Miss Granger, you had two feline shadows that evening."
Hermione paled, remembering the conversation she had had with Elena about Severus that night.
"I didn't hear anything, Hermione," said Minerva gently, understandingly. "Your secrets are safe with me."
"But you should–"
"Maybe I should, but I won't. I trust you both. Don't make me regret my decision."
Hermione shook her head fiercely.
"So, about your question?"
"Well, it's for Argus. Since you know about Elena… Is there a way for Argus to become a cat Animagus?"
For a moment, Minerva was speechless.
"I should have expected something like this. You never were the one to settle for easy tasks. Unfortunately, he cannot. That is, not as easily as Elena and I. I think that maybe there is a potion, but, if my memory serves me well, it's rather complicated to brew and to use. You would have to ask Severus as for this. What I do know is that there is a combination of Transfiguration, Charms and Potions that may solve your problem. It would require dedication. Are you sure Argus would be willing to study so hard?"
"I think that he would love to find a way to prove to Elena how much he cares."
Minerva's eyes widened slightly before she grinned suddenly.
"Are you telling me that Severus and you are trying to play matchmakers for Argus and Elena? It's… it's… I have no word! I will help you, Hermione, this you can be sure of, and I'll recruit Filius also. Anything to see Severus playing matchmaker!"
When Hermione closed the door of Minerva's office behind her, she could still hear peals of laughter come from the room.
Quite satisfied in how the things went, even though she was puzzled by Minerva's reaction, Hermione went directly to the library. Nothing else could ever take her mind off the danger Severus, Argus and Elena were running into. She had barely sat down with a book that she was interrupted.
"Hello, Hermione," said a tall black-haired boy, putting his bag on her table. "You're not as easily found as I first believed."
She eyed him quite distrustfully and replied testily:
"It's well-known that I'm always in the library."
"Well, you weren't in the library fifteen minutes ago, nor ten minutes ago, nor five minutes ago. I know, I checked."
"Why were you looking for me, Zabini?"
"Blaise."
"I beg your pardon?"
"My name is Blaise, not Zabini."
"And why would I call a Slytherin by his first name?" she asked crossly.
"You don't call Snape and Filch by their last name, do you?"
Hermione gaped at him and he sat in front of her with a disarming smile.
"What?" she finally managed.
He frowned, shaking his head as if chagrined.
"Sorry, that was not how I was supposed to tell you. I'm seriously lacking in social skills and my memory about the niceties one is supposed to do and say is very bad," he said cheerfully.
"Who are you? The Blaise Zabini I know does hardly talk at all."
He pretended to be hurt.
"I am Blaise Zabini, Severus's cousin… or is it nephew? I never know. I'm abysmal as for genealogy."
Hermione took a deep breath.
"Alright. Let's start from the beginning, shall we?"
"I take it that Severus didn't tell you that we are related," replied Blaise easily, leaning back comfortably in his chair. "In fact, the Snape, Zabini and Malfoy families are related. A common great-great-grand-father, with more or less 'great' in front. You mean that Malfoy never told you the story?"
"Malfoy does his best to talk to me the less possible."
"Yes, yes. He's not proud of seeing his family ring around your neck. Anyway, the story. So, once upon a time, was a powerful wizard with three beautiful daughters. Of course, they have to be beautiful. There is no interest whatsoever in the story if they aren't beautiful. The first one was married to the horrible Lord Snape and it is said he was so ugly that the young bride-to-be almost fainted on her wedding day. Her father was sad to let her go, but there was nothing to be done against the pitiless Snape family. The second one, with naturally, even more qualities than her older sister, was chosen by the evil sorcerer Zabini, who was skilled in dark magic and voodoo magic. The grieving father would have liked to refuse the hand of his daughter to this monster, but who knew what he could do? And so he surrendered and let his daughter go. The third one, the youngest, the most beautiful of the three, the favourite of their father, fell in love with the dashing young Lord Malfoy, who also returned her love, and the father, though sad to see his beloved daughter go away, gladly gave her to this promising young wizard."
"Charming story," said Hermione, now grinning openly. "I particularly like the fairy tale effect. Very nice. Was your ancestor really evil?"
"Not really, but it's true that we are good in unorthodox magic. Straight magic is not really our forte. We do dabble in voodoo; I'm sure you would be interested in all the things you can do with needles. I take it you have heard of acupuncture?"
"Muggle thing, yes, I know," she replied with a smirk.
"Hush, don't say big words like this. We prefer to say it's coming from the old Asiatic magic. Anyway, the Zabini family is quite reputed for being able to practice acupuncture on voodoo puppets. So very useful. The women in our family are consulted by everybody for solving little problems, like backaches or headaches, and sometimes the men are consulted also, but for darker things. Contrary to the Malfoy family, we do let so called little people come to us for help. It's very lucrative."
Hermione was hard put not to laugh out loud. Blaise was witty and funny, his voice taking different tones – disdained, scandalised, wry, practical, all of them utterly disabused – depending of what he was saying. Then he leaned forward to whisper with a conspiracy tone:
"My favourite part of the story, apart of how my family was described of course, is the punch line, which, unfortunately, Malfoy never tells. This wizard, the father of the three beautiful witches, had also a son, who married and continued the family line. Now, would you guess the name of the wizard? It was Eoren Longbottom."
"Longbottom? Are you telling me that Malfoy is related to Neville?"
"Yes, he is. Severus and I are also. In fact, Severus was a good friend – as good a friend as he can be – of Frank Longbottom. I can't say he appreciated what happened to him and his wife."
"Then why is he so odious to Neville?"
"For the same reason he's lenient with Malfoy. Politics and then, Severus didn't have a happy childhood. From what my father told me, Severus quite believes in duress to form the spirit. I don't think he knew otherwise."
Hermione thought for a moment.
"Malfoy is related to the Weasleys," she said tentatively.
"Yeah," replied Blaise with a wide grin. "That's a good one too. Malfoy hates it when someone reminds him of the fact. And that Sirius Black was his mother's cousin. What do you want, all pure-bloods are more or less related. We're all one big, happy family!"
"Naturally. And I'm Salazar Slytherin's secret descendant," she retorted sarcastically. "Now, what is your place in the whole thing?"
"Oh, Severus told me he had to go away and wanted me to keep an eye on you. Things with Malfoy and such."
Before Hermione could react at the fact that Severus had told Blaise that he was leaving even before he told her, Harry and Ron burst into the library, not even caring for the outraged huff from Madam Pince.
"Hermione, you're with a Slytherin," said Harry in disbelief, staring at the dark-haired boy lounging in front of his best friend.
"No, I'm with a very sweet Slytherin," she replied calmly.
Blaise mock-gasped and straightened.
"Sweet? Sweet? Me? Slytherins are not sweet!"
"Nice then?"
"No! Neither sweet nor nice! Why not fluffy while you're at it?"
"Considerate?" she suggested, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Blaise feigned to faint in horror.
"Slytherins don't even know the meaning of that word!"
"Polite and that's my last offer."
He pretended to think.
"Alright. I can be polite. I can do that."
"Harry, Ron, you have your answer. I'm not with a Slytherin, I'm with a polite Slytherin."
She laughed gaily, stood up, looped her arm through Blaise's and sauntered away, leaving her two friends gaping at her.
In fact, as Hermione discovered quickly, Severus could have dispensed with enrolling Blaise to watch over the young witch. She woke up in the middle of the night, startled by two loud mews.
"Lumos!"
She glared at Crookshanks, whose ears were flat on his skull.
"What is this noise, Crooks?" she asked scathingly. "Maybe you didn't notice, but it's three in the morning and I was trying to sleep!"
He mewed again, sheepishly, all the while keeping something firmly on the ground. Squinting at it, Hermione saw a bit of dust-coloured fur.
"Elena?" she asked incredulously.
The skinny cat wriggled under Crookshanks before finally getting free and turning into a lanky woman who glared at the half-Kneazle.
"Do you know how hard it is to get to you? First of all, the portrait guarding your room refused to let me enter and he tried to refuse me access to the cat flap. His dragon singed my fur but then, this idiot of Knight recognised me and gave way. And you could have told me that you had protections against Animagi on your room," she muttered darkly.
"I would have if I had known about them," replied Hermione evenly, making a mental note to thank Sir George and Cinnabar for the close watch they kept on her door, even though it seemed to be a bit too close.
"I couldn't transform until you called my name. That and the fact that your furry ball was crushing me."
But Hermione wasn't listening anymore. Elena's robes – greyish brown ones having replaced her usual red ones – were torn and dirty, she was shaking at times and a huge bruise was forming on her left temple.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice suddenly hollow. "Where are Severus and Argus?"
The eyes Elena turned toward her were full of sorrow.
"I need your help, Hermione. They have been captured."
Thanks to Jan McNeville for the idea of Argus turning into a cat!
