Disclaimer : Hogwarts, Potter, Blaise, and even the divine Draco, with all things related, belong to J.K.
Summary: Madame de Sancé is found, three people return to England, and an interesting conversation by the fireside.
Rating: PG13 for language, death and insanity.
Chapter Five: Locator.
One hour and a helluva lot of research later, Blaise, Morgaine and Angélique were sat in a circle on Ange's bedroom floor, attempting a locator charm. In the middle of the circle, incongruously, sat a hairbrush and a photograph of Madam de Sancé.
"OK, after three." Blaise was extremely doubtful that a twelve year old and two eleven year olds would achieve any kind of result, but there was no harm in trying. "One, two, three."
"Locator!" they shouted, with a swish and flick of three wands, and their left hands placed firmly on the brush. Morgaine felt a surge of energy in her wand arm, a jerk somewhere in the small of her back, and then emptiness before and behind her, with the others banging at her sides as they moved.
Three children landed with a bump on the hard pavement by the banks of the Seine. A few feet away, a woman stood silently watching the river, a brooding look on her face. The day suited her mood- it was grey, overcast, and the scent of thunder hovered over steely waters. As the kids jumped to their feet and looked wildly around, she kissed the toddler she held, sat him on a bench, and walked to the edge.
"Maman! Maman, chérie!" Ange exclaimed, running towards her. The woman turned to stare for a minute, and then deliberately stepped over the edge into the water. There was a splash and a few seconds silence.
Ange screamed and sprang for the bank, but Blaise was before her. He had kicked off his shoes and dived under, closely followed by the two girls. The water was three times as cold as it seemed from the bank.
Five minutes, suspended in time and seeming like forever, a tangle of thrashing limbs and billowing robes in the liquid ice. Then, somehow, the two girls had got an arm each, and Blaise was heaving the three up onto the bank, scrambling up after. They lay there for a minute, soaked and bruised, too exhausted to move.
* * *
It was lucky for Ange she had Morgaine and Blaise there- the funeral hadn't been exactly fun, with all the scandal inevitable in refined French wizarding circles. Even though they had passed the death off as "accidental", in order to assure Madame de Sancé a place in the family graveyard.
Blaise and Ange had got over the first embarrasment, and learned to get on well together. After all, there are some things you just can't go through together without becoming close friends, and rescuing a suicide from the Seine is one of them.
Monsieur de Sancé had put them up, although with definite implications that he considered it blackmail, that had offened Blaise considerably. The evening after the funeral, the three escaped as soon as was seemly from the reception downstairs, and Blaise heaved Ange's trunk into the fireplace while she scribbled a note for her father.
"I'll go first", Morgaine announced stepping foreward, "Blaise can't exactly deal with the immigration wizards and carry the trunk."
"What do you mean, I can't? Course I can." Blaise's delicate masculine ego had been damaged by that. "You've only ever used the floo once before."
"I'm a quick learner", Morgaine grinned, and promptly disappeared up the chimney.
They did, indeed, arrive safely in the Zabini house not long after, although Blaise had some acid comments, and Ange some amused ones to make on Morgaine's shameless methods of dealing with customs.
"Does it matter whether I'm modest?" she replied composedly, "the point is, they won't remember whether we had passports or not. They're still arguing about which one of them I meant."
The Zabini parents, vague but generally pleased to have guestsof pure blood, didn't even seem to notice the addition to their household.
The three spent much of the night sat on the floor, talking.
"Remember the sleep-over we had for my birthday?" Ange giggled, "and the time we turned fathers hair pink?"
Morgaine splutterd. "His face, when he looked in the mirror! Ahh...! And remember the time we frightened everyone at midnight mass by dressing up as the ghost of your illustrious aunt Sophie?!" She turned to Blaise. "We found her clothes in the attick, and then all we had to do was look up a disillusionment charm. Ange appeared as her out of thin air, ran about crying for a bit, and then just vanished."
Blaise sat silent, the light from the fire flickering over his aquiline features as he watched the girls with a little half smile.
"Its very strange," he remarked after a while, "that you two should have managed a disillusionment charm at that age. Or, indeed, that we should have been able to work the locator spell. You do realise that those are both advanced magic- most people don't manage them till sixth year at least."
Morgaine stared for a moment, and then laughed. "Really? Well, I can't wait to get to Hogwarts and see what the teachers there think of me. Maybe they'll be able to say which one of us is paranormal. It's not you, is it, Blaise?"
That young man groaned humourously and shook his head. "I wish, maybe then I'd have more skill at Transfiguration! By the way, Ange, what are you planning to do? Term starts soon."
"I know. I'd really like to go to Hogwarts, and stay with you two. But the family has always studied at Beauxbatons. Patriotism and all that. Its a cursed nuisense of yours not to be French, Morganne cherie. I'll send off an application to Beauxbatons first thing tomorrow."
"Bit late for applying, isn't it?" Blaise remarked curiously.
Ange and Morgaine glanced at each other.
"Yes, well, that was the trouble with Mother, you see." Ange spoke with difficulty. "I rely on you not to spread this, of course, Blaise. It'd cause the devil of a scandal, you know. I expect you gathered that mother was rather depressed. She, er, she tended to blame this on her school time at Beauxbatons, and swore me and Raymond would go there over her dead body. He used to laugh at her. Told her she was insane, and that having married into this family she could obey its head. That was what all the rows were about, mostly, and thats why my application hasn't been sent off yet."
"I see, that'd be why your father was so reluctant to display common civility to us." Blaise ahd obviously not forgotten that insult. "Well look, you're welcome to stay here 'till the answer comes, if you'd rather not go home. Pity you can't come to Hogwarts, it'd have been amusing to introduce you both there. You two make almost as delightful a contrast as me and Draco."
This, physically, was quite true. The picture Blaise had been watching as they sat there was one of contrasts. Morgaines red-brown wavy mane mingling with Ange's staight honey coloured hair. Ange's tanned skin, sparkling green eyes, quick gestures and gamine appearance setting off Morgaines white complexion, deep brown-black shining eyes and the languid, almost sensuous way of moving which Mrs Zabini said she had inherited from her mother.
"Oooh, tell!" Ange grinned. "Who is this Draco who provides so admirable a foil for our vain friend?"
"Another boy in Slytherin house. You'll be meeting him soon, Morgaine, and I think you'll like him. He has conciderable influence on our year. As you say, Ange, he's admirable. As blond as I am dark, and we seem to agree tolerably on most subjects."
Morgaine shook her head. "I don't care so much for blond boys. But I can see the two of you together would be rather striking."
Just then, a House-elf appeared. "If you please, sir, madams," it murmured with a respectful bob, "Mistress says it's getting on for two AM, and that there's no need for Miss Delafee to keep the hours her mother did." It disappeared.
"Argh!" Morgaine exclaimed. "Everybody referring continually to my mother, but nobody will tell me anything about her. It's not dignified to have other people know more than I do."
Blaise smiled. "Well, Amante, we could always find out. Here, if it pleases you, I, Blaise Zabini, do hereby solemnly swear to lend all my aid in discovering whatever mysterious secret there is to dicover." Ange agreed, and, Morgaine being somewhat pacified by their promises, they went to bed.
Summary: Madame de Sancé is found, three people return to England, and an interesting conversation by the fireside.
Rating: PG13 for language, death and insanity.
Chapter Five: Locator.
One hour and a helluva lot of research later, Blaise, Morgaine and Angélique were sat in a circle on Ange's bedroom floor, attempting a locator charm. In the middle of the circle, incongruously, sat a hairbrush and a photograph of Madam de Sancé.
"OK, after three." Blaise was extremely doubtful that a twelve year old and two eleven year olds would achieve any kind of result, but there was no harm in trying. "One, two, three."
"Locator!" they shouted, with a swish and flick of three wands, and their left hands placed firmly on the brush. Morgaine felt a surge of energy in her wand arm, a jerk somewhere in the small of her back, and then emptiness before and behind her, with the others banging at her sides as they moved.
Three children landed with a bump on the hard pavement by the banks of the Seine. A few feet away, a woman stood silently watching the river, a brooding look on her face. The day suited her mood- it was grey, overcast, and the scent of thunder hovered over steely waters. As the kids jumped to their feet and looked wildly around, she kissed the toddler she held, sat him on a bench, and walked to the edge.
"Maman! Maman, chérie!" Ange exclaimed, running towards her. The woman turned to stare for a minute, and then deliberately stepped over the edge into the water. There was a splash and a few seconds silence.
Ange screamed and sprang for the bank, but Blaise was before her. He had kicked off his shoes and dived under, closely followed by the two girls. The water was three times as cold as it seemed from the bank.
Five minutes, suspended in time and seeming like forever, a tangle of thrashing limbs and billowing robes in the liquid ice. Then, somehow, the two girls had got an arm each, and Blaise was heaving the three up onto the bank, scrambling up after. They lay there for a minute, soaked and bruised, too exhausted to move.
* * *
It was lucky for Ange she had Morgaine and Blaise there- the funeral hadn't been exactly fun, with all the scandal inevitable in refined French wizarding circles. Even though they had passed the death off as "accidental", in order to assure Madame de Sancé a place in the family graveyard.
Blaise and Ange had got over the first embarrasment, and learned to get on well together. After all, there are some things you just can't go through together without becoming close friends, and rescuing a suicide from the Seine is one of them.
Monsieur de Sancé had put them up, although with definite implications that he considered it blackmail, that had offened Blaise considerably. The evening after the funeral, the three escaped as soon as was seemly from the reception downstairs, and Blaise heaved Ange's trunk into the fireplace while she scribbled a note for her father.
"I'll go first", Morgaine announced stepping foreward, "Blaise can't exactly deal with the immigration wizards and carry the trunk."
"What do you mean, I can't? Course I can." Blaise's delicate masculine ego had been damaged by that. "You've only ever used the floo once before."
"I'm a quick learner", Morgaine grinned, and promptly disappeared up the chimney.
They did, indeed, arrive safely in the Zabini house not long after, although Blaise had some acid comments, and Ange some amused ones to make on Morgaine's shameless methods of dealing with customs.
"Does it matter whether I'm modest?" she replied composedly, "the point is, they won't remember whether we had passports or not. They're still arguing about which one of them I meant."
The Zabini parents, vague but generally pleased to have guestsof pure blood, didn't even seem to notice the addition to their household.
The three spent much of the night sat on the floor, talking.
"Remember the sleep-over we had for my birthday?" Ange giggled, "and the time we turned fathers hair pink?"
Morgaine splutterd. "His face, when he looked in the mirror! Ahh...! And remember the time we frightened everyone at midnight mass by dressing up as the ghost of your illustrious aunt Sophie?!" She turned to Blaise. "We found her clothes in the attick, and then all we had to do was look up a disillusionment charm. Ange appeared as her out of thin air, ran about crying for a bit, and then just vanished."
Blaise sat silent, the light from the fire flickering over his aquiline features as he watched the girls with a little half smile.
"Its very strange," he remarked after a while, "that you two should have managed a disillusionment charm at that age. Or, indeed, that we should have been able to work the locator spell. You do realise that those are both advanced magic- most people don't manage them till sixth year at least."
Morgaine stared for a moment, and then laughed. "Really? Well, I can't wait to get to Hogwarts and see what the teachers there think of me. Maybe they'll be able to say which one of us is paranormal. It's not you, is it, Blaise?"
That young man groaned humourously and shook his head. "I wish, maybe then I'd have more skill at Transfiguration! By the way, Ange, what are you planning to do? Term starts soon."
"I know. I'd really like to go to Hogwarts, and stay with you two. But the family has always studied at Beauxbatons. Patriotism and all that. Its a cursed nuisense of yours not to be French, Morganne cherie. I'll send off an application to Beauxbatons first thing tomorrow."
"Bit late for applying, isn't it?" Blaise remarked curiously.
Ange and Morgaine glanced at each other.
"Yes, well, that was the trouble with Mother, you see." Ange spoke with difficulty. "I rely on you not to spread this, of course, Blaise. It'd cause the devil of a scandal, you know. I expect you gathered that mother was rather depressed. She, er, she tended to blame this on her school time at Beauxbatons, and swore me and Raymond would go there over her dead body. He used to laugh at her. Told her she was insane, and that having married into this family she could obey its head. That was what all the rows were about, mostly, and thats why my application hasn't been sent off yet."
"I see, that'd be why your father was so reluctant to display common civility to us." Blaise ahd obviously not forgotten that insult. "Well look, you're welcome to stay here 'till the answer comes, if you'd rather not go home. Pity you can't come to Hogwarts, it'd have been amusing to introduce you both there. You two make almost as delightful a contrast as me and Draco."
This, physically, was quite true. The picture Blaise had been watching as they sat there was one of contrasts. Morgaines red-brown wavy mane mingling with Ange's staight honey coloured hair. Ange's tanned skin, sparkling green eyes, quick gestures and gamine appearance setting off Morgaines white complexion, deep brown-black shining eyes and the languid, almost sensuous way of moving which Mrs Zabini said she had inherited from her mother.
"Oooh, tell!" Ange grinned. "Who is this Draco who provides so admirable a foil for our vain friend?"
"Another boy in Slytherin house. You'll be meeting him soon, Morgaine, and I think you'll like him. He has conciderable influence on our year. As you say, Ange, he's admirable. As blond as I am dark, and we seem to agree tolerably on most subjects."
Morgaine shook her head. "I don't care so much for blond boys. But I can see the two of you together would be rather striking."
Just then, a House-elf appeared. "If you please, sir, madams," it murmured with a respectful bob, "Mistress says it's getting on for two AM, and that there's no need for Miss Delafee to keep the hours her mother did." It disappeared.
"Argh!" Morgaine exclaimed. "Everybody referring continually to my mother, but nobody will tell me anything about her. It's not dignified to have other people know more than I do."
Blaise smiled. "Well, Amante, we could always find out. Here, if it pleases you, I, Blaise Zabini, do hereby solemnly swear to lend all my aid in discovering whatever mysterious secret there is to dicover." Ange agreed, and, Morgaine being somewhat pacified by their promises, they went to bed.