Sorry my updates are taking so long. But I don't have a beta-reader and that slows me down. That and I'm working overtime. Yuck. Anyway, thanks for reading and thanks for reviewing.
Chapter Three: Seeing Red
Good Riddance, St. Bridget's
St. Bridget's Academy's faculty consisted of tight, French-braided, ruler-slapping nuns to liberal, cheesy, borderline-perverted instructors. The nuns taught the younger year's kindergarten to 5th grade, while the instructors taught grades 6th to 12th. The campus had a cathedral, a small chapel for the elementary, two outdoor basketball courts, two gymnasiums, three mezzanines, and three buildings for each stage of education.
The elementary division had the largest building, due to the kindergarteners and 5th graders. It stretched through the whole length of the campus and had two floors. Green limestone made up its exterior while blue linoleum and white walls filled the interior. It had to be the cleanest elementary school in the whole world. Mostly because the Head Dean, Mrs. Markobrad, and the janitor, Mr. Owens had obsessive-compulsive disorders and phobia for germs. They crucified slobs.
The high school had the second largest building. It was made of bricks painted in lavender with steel windows and doors. Salmon-colored carpet lined the halls while the classroom had wooden floors that the students had to sweep and wax every Monday morning before class. The lockers were painted a foul beige, giving one the feeling that they were walking down the tongue of a whale with serious tartar control issues. There were four floors for each year. Each year had two batches: the intellectually gifted and the dumb but financially adequate.
The 'smallest' building contained the middle school, grades 6th to 8th. The interior designer for this building must've had a meltdown. To describe the motif of the school's halls, the designer envisioned a 'pubescent, cherubic, spring-sprite sort of feel.' To achieve the look, the floor's wooden panels had been painted a barnyard green, while the walls had black strokes of paint (supposedly representing the flow of wind) against a light apricot (read: flesh color) background. Since then, everyone called the students there Pubes for the next three years.
Unfortunately, at the start of this school term, the 5th graders were assigned to the middle school building. This didn't help Blaise much. She had been looking forward to 5th grade, since that was the oldest grade in the Elementary Wing. Her classmates had stopped bullying her long ago, and the younger years feared her. Ever since the Scream Team (a name she dubbed her sluts-in-janitor's-closet bullies) moved to the Pube building two years ago, the other batches grew bored with tormenting Blaise. So she had hoped this last year would be considerably comfortable with no older students whatsoever to deal with. She should've known that was too good to be true, especially when the Principal/Prefect of Discipline, Mr. Clement, hated her guts.
"Leave me the hell alone!"
Blaise pushed away the hand of 8th grader, Danielle. It was the last day of school. They dismissed the students by year. Blaise hoped she'd get a head start. But the 8th graders caught up with her quickly. With summer break already before them and high school life just a few months away, the group chased down their favorite outcasts with an extra bounce in their step. Once again, they amused themselves at Blaise's expense.
"It's the last day of school, Zabini. Come now. Show some school spirit!" Danielle sneered pulling Blaise's hair at the root. Two other girls held her hands behind her back.
Her pulse raced but Blaise said calmly, "What if I just showed you what happened last time you laid your pudgy finger on me?"
A collective shudder went through the group. Last time, Blaise smashed a vial of Slug Pus on the girl's forehead. Danielle suffered a week having snails pop out of her boils.
"You stupid witch!" Danielle hissed. "You know what they used to do to witches, Zabini? They burned them at stake."
"You're kidding." Blaise rolled her eyes. "Do you mind, Danielle? Your penis breath's quite off-putting."
The girl slammed Blaise against the wall. "You think you're brave talking like that? You think you're so smart with your advanced classes and fancy words. You're nothing without your stupid witchcraft."
That was slightly true. Two weeks ago, Mr. Clement confiscated Blaise's belt of magical beads. That left her at the mercy of these gargoyles. But Danielle didn't know that Blaise had just broken into the principal's office and retrieved her arsenal. That's the main reason why the group caught up with her.
Blaise didn't utter a word, lest they discover the beads. Instead, she steadied her gaze on Danielle. This unnerved the girl, compelling her to bark at one of the boys in the group. He came and promptly punched Blaise in the stomach. She keeled over, biting down her lip to keep from crying aloud.
Danielle chuckled, grinding her teeth. She jerked her thumb at Blaise's crumpled form. "Wait're ya'll waiting for?!"
The group grabbed Blaise's arms and legs while someone placed a bag over her head. They dragged her across the school grounds and past the basketball court. Blaise tried to reach for her beads tucked under her belt but they tied her hands together.
People pelted her with their books, while some kicked her as she writhed on the ground. But she refused to say anything. Her silence agitated them, and half the time, their kicks and punches felt weak or simply grazed her. Then Danielle commanded them to stop. They dragged Blaise again across the concrete, letting tiny rocks dig into her skin. More pulling, scratching, yanking ensued. Suddenly, the bag on her head lifted. They had tied Blaise to the flagpole. The sun smarted on her skin. Danielle slapped Blaise on the face.
"That's for ruining my complexion for a week!" Danielle hissed. "I missed out on the bloody prom for that!"
Blaise narrowed her eyes. "Like you'd dance at one. I see you only making it to the parking lot, skanky arse, cock-sucker."
Danielle slapped her again. Blaise spat out some blood. One of the girls behind Danielle fidgeted.
"So witch's do bleed?" Danielle laughed. The girl tugged at Danielle's sleeve.
"Let's go. The janitor or someone might-"
"I don't bloody care! We're on vacation already. There's nothing they can do to us." She eyed Blaise. "You're awfully quiet, Zabini. What do you have to say for yourself? Let's see your witchcraft get you out of this."
"If I were you, pray that never happens," Blaise mumbled under her breath. Danielle swerved back and struck her again. Blaise's eyes flashed. "Do that one more time, Danielle!"
"Or you'll what?" Danielle sneered. She stood over her, challenging her, mocking her. Something in Blaise snapped.
Ignoring the pain, she wrenched one hand from the binds and clamped it around Danielle's neck. Both girls wrestled on the ground as the others crowded around them.
"Get off her, Zabini!" Someone yelled, but Blaise grabbed Danielle by the hair and shoved the girl's face into the concrete. She straddled the 8th grader and pelted her with punches.
"Make her stop!" Danielle wailed. No one approached as Blaise's fists struck faster and harder on Danielle's head and chest.
Finally, some high school seniors happened on the brawl. It took five seniors to hold Blaise back. Danielle staggered to her feet and, to most of her friends' surprise, leered once again at Blaise. One senior pushed Danielle away.
"That's enough, Danielle. It's summer break. Give it a rest," he said. Several boys still held Blaise back.
"You're lucky you're leaving this school, Zabini!" Danielle spat on the ground. Both her eyes had swelled like a tomato.
"This's Zabini?" One of boys smirked. The teens eyed Blaise curiously. Their chivalry quickly faded knowing they had the school misfit in their grasp. But Blaise had had enough.
"I'm done with all of you half-witted muggles," she snarled wiping off her bloody spittle from her chin. She plucked out a few beads from the pouch and dropped them down each boy's pants. She flung another one down Danielle's shirt. Then she snapped her fingers, turning the beads into Watusi firecrackers.
She walked away amongst their screams.
Depeche Mode and Sex Pistols
Blaise quickened her pace and rounded a corner. She crawled behind a dumpster beside the library. She winced as she lifted her shirt and prodded at the bruise on her stomach. The bruise had turned a yellowish brown with violet spots. She rested her head against the wall sucking the blood from her busted lip.
"Blaise," someone whispered ten minutes later. She opened an eye and patted the spot next to her. A lanky Asian girl crawled beside her. The girl groaned painfully as she leaned beside Blaise. She cocked an eyebrow at the blonde. "I see they got you too."
Blaise snorted. "They shoved you in the locker again?" The girl nodded.
"Worse. It was the boys' locker room. But that soccer captain, Spencer, found me. He thought it was funny. Flashed his donger at me before I got out of there. Like I would be impressed. I've seen cigarettes bigger than his." She sighed and pulled out a walkman from her backpack. "Goddamn that Junko! I told her we only have a half day today. But she taking her time as usual. Probably snogging that boyfriend of hers senseless as we speak."
"Junko's always fashionably late," Blaise mused. "She'll come, Hong. Glassy-eyed and frothing at the mouth."
Blaise began plucking the gravel from under her skin. Grimacing, Hong pulled out a box and took a gauzy patch from it. "Here, stick this on your stomach. My grandparents use this on their joints." One whiff of the gauze made Blaise gag.
"Hong! What's that smell? Essence of crusty old fart?" Hong ignored her and stuck the gauze on Blaise's bruise. Immediately, Blaise felt a cooling sensation on her skin. "What is this? It smells awful but it feels good."
"Salonpas, I think. It's like Ben-Gay."
"Blimey, Nguyen, you gave me some kind of muggle concoction?!"
"Hey it may be mugglemade, but that's Asian, sister. Gotta represent."
Blaise chuckled sorely. She eyed the walkman on Hong's lap. "What're you listening to now?"
"One of Junko's old tapes." She handed Blaise one of the earphones. "Least'll kill time until sister dear finally gets here."
Both girls relaxed, swaying to the music of Depeche Mode. Hong leaned back and lit a roll of weed. Blaise groaned at her.
"Bummed it from Junko's stash." Hong shrugged. Blaise shook her head. Hong sighed staring dreamily at a picture of the band's singer in the magazine. "You sing it, Martin," she cooed. Blaise snorted.
"Martin Gore's way too old for you, Hong."
"So? He's bloody cute!" She squeezed the magazine against her chest. "I'm going to marry him!" Blaise rolled her eyes and pulled off the earphone.
"You can take the girl out of the church but you can't take the church of the girl," she mumbled. "How can you even think of boys in a romantic fashion? Name one bloke in this god-awful school that hasn't offended you in some grotesque way."
"Blaise, We shouldn't write off the whole gender based on the sods we've met here. Haven't you ever fancied kissing a boy?"
Blaise snorted, "Oh, sure. I always fancy kissing one two seconds before he punches me in the face. Yeah, that whole aggression thing's a turn on."
Hong took a long drag and offered Blaise a puff. She declined.
"You know, Blaise, I saw Brian Jaworski looking at you funny when Mr. Franklin dismissed us. I bet he was going to invite you to his pool party this weekend." Blaise scoffed.
"He looks at everyone funny, Hong. He's got a lazy eye."
"How 'bout Paul Medina? He's never teased you."
"Yes, he just calls me Satan's spawn."
"Anthony Fraques? He's got-"
"Big lips, big teeth. Smelly feet."
"What about Josh Stanford? He's cute, funny, dresses nice …"
"And takes tap-dancing lessons. Hello?!"
"Jesus, Blaise! I think you're just purposely finding faults. Okay, so you have reason for your suspicion. But you're bordering on paranoid."
"I'm not, Hong. How many times must I say that I'm not into boys?"
"Don't tell me it's girls?"
"No, silly. None of the boys in St. Bridget's are worthy-"
"AHA! In St. Bridget's. So you have found someone that tickles your fancy!"
"Tickles my fancy? You're dialog's killing me."
"Don't change the subject, Zabini. I see the way you're listening to Martin. One of his song's got to you, hasn't it? I know! It's Somebody, innit?" She smirked at Blaise's flustered expression. "I knew it! Who's your secret crush?"
Blaise leaned back on the brick wall behind them. "I just like the song, alright? I like the part where he goes, though things like this make me sick, in a case like this, I'll get away with it." Hong shook her head.
"You make no sense."
"I know." Blaise rubbed her forehead. She may scoff at Hong's boy fascination, but Blaise did find it depressing that she hasn't crossed that line herself. Maybe there's something wrong with her. Girls her age were already thinking about boyfriends and dating. What did she think about? Just getting through the day, she thought grimly. That and turning all her bullies into pond scum … and the occasional daydream of jumping off the highest tower in Villa Monteverde. Damn, do I have issues, she snorted to herself.
"Finally!" Hong sighed glancing at the parking lot. Her sister Junko arrived. "Hey, we're going to our boutique in the mainland today. Grand opening." Hong rolled her eyes. "Wanna come? Mind you, we're flooing there."
Hong Nguyen was Blaise's only friend through the years at the academy. The girls bonded when Hong revealed that her family were all Squibs. Hong, herself, had no magical abilities. But her baby brother did.
"Sure. Why not? I'm in no rush to get home," Blaise sighed.
Oma had grown antsy as the end of Blaise's term drew closer. She spent most of her days conferencing over the pyre and sending Rusty off on secret errands. Blaise didn't mind, because it gave her the freedom to go and leave as she pleased. She had learned everything they could teach her. And what they wouldn't teach her she taught herself. All she needed was a wand to practice all the theories. For now, she did what she could with the Travlas Orbs and trusty pouch of magical beads Papa gave her.
The two girls masked their limps with an unnatural strut as they approached Junko's VW bug. Hong loved to complain about her older sister, but Blaise knew the girl secretly idolized the rebellious girl.
"You're late, Junko!" Hong pouted as Blaise scooted into the backseat. Junko rolled her eyes. She was 18 years old with a green Mohawk and pierced lip.
"I'm here, aren't I? Be grateful for that, shrimp. Got sidetracked. But you know I'd come even if I have to floo this damn contraption to Bolivia." Where Hong's family lacked in spell-casting, they made up for in potion making. They already owned several Apothecaries, even along the legendary Filibuster Strip, a teen wizard's Neverland. Blaise had never been there. Junko kept shop there.
The Nguyen's had added to their Potion empire with a new boutique in London. It was just outside the entrance to Diagon Alley. They chose to share their aroma therapeutic skills to the consuming muggle public. That and the edible lingerie Junko concocted.
"You two look like shit," Junko mused. She pulled two vials from her glove compartment. "That should heal the scratches up. Bet you're glad to be leaving that shit hole, eh? No more bullies." Hong cursed under her breath.
"How did you know?" Junko rustled her sister's hair as Blaise gulped the vial down quickly, lest Oma sees her and unleashes Napalm on St. Bridget's.
"Been there, little sister." The girls rode to the Nguyen's home in Newport, singing along to the Sex Pistols. Blaise flooed with them to the boutique on the mainland.
At the boutique, Blaise hid herself away in the alley behind the store as Hong and her family entertained the new clientele.
Blaise pulled out her stash of knapweed and jasmine. She sprinkled a bit of the mixture into a ceramic bowl and burned the herbs. Blaise closed her eyes and took in the scent, letting it soothe her.
And as the Hood's chatted up a storm, playing the perfect host, Blaise curled up into a ball resting her forehead on her knees. She relished quietly the fact that her tortuous years in St. Bridget's Academy had finally ended. But when she began imagining leaving Oma alone on the island again, she felt sad.
"Hey, Blaise! What some pineapple juice? Junko spiked it with Jose Cuervo."
Blaise sighed tiredly. "No, thanks, Hong. I have to get back to the island."
They hugged, promised to write each other. Hong gave her free perfume samples and scooted back into the boutique. Blaise cupped a Travlas Orb in her hand and concentrated on her room in Oma's castle.
As she soared back to the island, Blaise counted the days to her 11th birthday. After all the annoyances her family gave her, she still had the same wish. For her family to be whole again. For Mama to stop crying, for Papa to stay …
A Memory That Can't Be Told
Blaise sat up from her bed, shivering in her flimsy gown. A breeze had broken through the window shutters. She shuffled her way to the window following the trail of moonlight on the wooden floor. The summer brought thousands of stars to the sky and Blaise stared at them lost in thought. She had woken, not from the chill, but from a dream. And it was more of a nightmare than a dream.
She recalled the fleeting images in her mind. She saw a series of rails snaking in and out of tunnels and caves. Over a million locked doors loomed past, the sheer volume of them dizzying. The pungent smell of mud and stone choked her. Blasts of fire and roars of unseen beasts stuck on her skin, making the hairs on her neck stand.
The whole time, something weighed on her shoulders. It slowly and deliberately ate at her brain. Telling her she was getting closer. Wild greed shivered down her spine. Then a cackle throbbed in her throat. A cackle filled with menace and loathing. Her familiarity of such hate startled Blaise awake. She jerked from the dream fearing if she saw any more, the thing would take complete possession of her.
"Oma, wake up," Blaise whispered. When her grandma didn't stir, she pulled the covers. Oma reached for her wand just as Blaise lit the candle on the nightstand.
"Dios mio, Blaise!" Oma gasped pulling her wand off Blaise's throat as quickly as she aimed it. "What're you doing up at this hour? Oh my … You're cold, hija. What happened?"
"Oma, I had a dream …" Blaise told her what she saw. Oma listened quietly, making Blaise repeat certain details. When Blaise finished, Oma pushed off the bed and paced the floor.
"What do you think it's about, Oma?" Blaise yawned, trying to slow down her breathing. Oma eyed the girl carefully.
Rhonda said with a weak smile. "You want to look up these meanings, don't you? The references are in my study."
Blaise sighed and dragged herself to the door. "Let me guess. You're going to make a pyre call the moment I step out of this room, aren't you?"
"I'm going to call your Padre if you must know," Oma replied slowly. She embraced Blaise, kissing her lightly on the forehead. "You had a bad dream, hija. I think it's from stress. You're leaving the island … you're starting wizarding school! It's all that pent up excitement. Enjoy these changes. You're heading down a new road," Oma sighed brushing the hair from Blaise's eyes. "Now get some sleep. You have a long trip tomorrow."
Back in her quarters, Blaise checked her luggage again. She glanced around the room. This tower of Villa Monteverde had been her haven for the past several years. Her haven from St. Bridget's, a haven from her nearing puberty, and a haven from Creer Upon Libby.
Returning to her home hasn't been pleasant for several summers now. Tension grew between her parents. Her dad never completely believed the story Mama and McGee told him. But when he asked Blaise, she didn't have the guts to tell him the truth. She had a hard time coming to terms with it herself. Blaise had pushed the events in the back of her mind. If she didn't talk about it, she didn't have to think about it.
But the place she once called home no longer had that comfy feeling to it. The house weighed heavy on her. Too many secrets lay inside its walls. She had grown apart from her mum. Vanessa worked longer hours, even skipped the weekends she should've visited Blaise on the island. And whenever Blaise did see her mum, the woman avoided the girl's eyes. It seemed that Van had surrendered to whatever demons she had in her head.
Her father's actions weren't helpful either. What's so bloody special about the people in Durmstang? His loyalty to the blasted school only fueled Vanessa's jealousy. They'd argue over dinner, trying to rephrase their words, keeping their tone neutral, but Blaise knew. She found the whole charade insulting.
But if Van could coach Blaise to lie to the family, then Van wouldn't hesitate to lie to her own daughter either. Blaise wished she could say something to them. Give them a piece of her mind. But this family didn't encourage that.
But … if her parents come clean, that meant she'd had to as well. And Blaise spent years pushing the memory out of her mind. Why bring it back? She had enough on her plate dealing with puberty.
Things would be easier to handle if she could TALK to someone about it. But Blaise didn't trust what McGee's or Oma's responses would be. She didn't want to bring anymore tension than there already was. What if they veered their anger on Vanessa, her dad, or even on herself? Blaise could talk to Padre. But … The last thing Blaise wanted was another person to feel sorry for her. Vanessa did. And look where it got her. Besides, involving Padre would humiliate her father.
Ugh. Whether she's containing Vanessa's self-pity or protecting her father's self-esteem, it's always at the expense of her own sanity. Blaise felt like she was raising them. They should be taking care of her. Not shipping her off to an island with a war-mongering elf and stir-crazy witch, while they wallowed in their thirty-something angst. Well, Blaise had enough losing sleep over their actions.
The nearing reality of wizarding school placed everything back into perspective. Once Blaise's on her way, she'd stop sweating it. Leave them to figure out their problems, while she focused on herself. She'd be with people like her. She'd have a place where she belonged. And she could finally reclaim what was stolen from her. A normal childhood.
The next morning, Blaise waited for Rusty to finish his breakfast. The elf would accompany Blaise back to the mainland. Oma had been busy all morning. Her call to Padre sparked the activity. He always did. Now the whole castle seemed to have lit overnight. Oma was in full Auror-mode, making orders, referring to various maps strewn across the wall of her study, ever swishing her magical staff. Her actions seemed more purposeful. Blaise wondered what Padre said to her this time.
She watched this all perched on the stone hedge with her back to the sea. She reflected on the reasons that brought her to this island. Her parents said that Oma needed Blaise there. Rhonda Zabini was the kind of person who needed an outlet for her energy. The island life was beautiful but quite uneventful. Blaise's eagerness to learn magic had helped Rhonda focus.
A soft breeze lifted Blaise's hair. The style was shorter than she liked. Several months ago, the kids at the academy held her down and chopped off her ponytail. She was still shaken from that event. But her hair recovered, growing past her ears, falling between her chin and shoulders, still a soft and shimmering blond. Her bangs fell over half her face, leaving one eye to peek up at people.
She may have hated school life but the Isle of Wight itself became Blaise's love. Every weekend, she'd climb down to the beaches golden sands and surf or wade in the salt water. Her honey tan deepened, giving her a perennial bronze glow. Her limbs stretched longer and leaner. Her sporty lifestyle kept her chest flat. At first glance, she looked like a lanky boy with long hair … ready to dive into a mosh pit.
Blaise wore a strapless sundress for the occasion. That would please Vanessa. She checked the time on her pocket watch. They were ten minutes late for their departure, but Blaise was in no hurry. She stretched along the hedge and listened to the waves of the sea below. She wondered if she could still come to the island on her summer breaks. She missed the castle already.
"Blaise!" Oma called from the patio. "The carriage's out in front! Rusty's got your luggage packed! Let's go! Don't want your folks to worry now!"
"Yes, Oma!" Blaise sighed. She mumbled under her breath, "My parents? Worry? What an understatement." In another 15 minutes with no Blaise, Van would send the Calvary to Villa Monteverde.
Rusty held the door open to the carriage as Blaise dragged her feet behind Oma. She only looked up when she felt her grandma's hand on her cheek.
"I wish you the best, my child," Oma said beaming down at Blaise. "I want to thank you for staying with me on this island. You have made my life here … a joy. You are a joy. Have fun in wizarding school, hija."
Blaise embraced her tightly. "Bye, Oma. I'll see you soon."
"Yes!" Oma laughed. "In Disyembre, I'll be visiting you for a change." She kissed Blaise on the forehead. "Say hello to everyone for me."
Rusty activated the Invisibility Shield and steered the unseen beast at the helm. Blaise watched the castle grow smaller as the carriage ascended higher into the sky. She pressed her forehead on the window, closing her eyes, not really knowing how she should feel. Instead, she imagined herself walking along the stone hedge fence as the blue-green waters sloshed on the golden sands below.
Blaise Zabini, 4th Floor, 7 Sparrow's Circle, Creer Upon Libby
Hours later, Rusty rapped on the carriage's roof. "You're almost home, Lady Blaise! Have a look!"
Blaise rubbed her eyes and pulled back the drapes. She saw her manor loomed before them standing over five floors with Willows towering around it. Ecru bricks glistened in the soft sunlight. A faint scent of jasmine rose sweetly up to her. Everything looked the way she remembered. She didn't like that.
The carriage broke through the clouds, descending low enough to rustle the treetops. Rusty deactivated the Invisibility Shield.
"Oy!" A voice called from the carriage window. Blaise jumped in her seat. She grinned at the blond head bobbing beside her window.
"Cedric!" Blaise reached out wrapping her arms around his neck briefly. "What're you doing up here?"
"Playing Quidditch," he said. "Your carriage sorta just popped in our way."
"Oh sorry. But were you winning?"
"Of course!" He laughed as Fred or George, whichever, zoomed by blowing a raspberry in his direction. "Come to the field as soon as you can. I'll introduce you to my friends. We're all trying out our new brooms."
Her eyes darted to Cedric's blue house. She saw McGee waving up at her. Blaise waved back.
"I am home," she said watching Cedric loop circles in the distance.
"Twenty minutes late!" Van sighed. Her hair stuck out in several directions, but her smile seemed genuine as she wrapped her arms around Blaise. She patted Blaise's hair. She stopped herself before she did her usual throat, eye, mouth inspection. Instead, she took a step back and took in her daughter's appearance.
"You look good, sweetie. You're taking care of yourself well."
"Uh, thanks, Ma." Blaise blushed. Van beckoned to Rusty who struggled with Blaise's luggage.
"Susan called this morning. She wants to come over the moment you're back. You should call her. I'll take your luggage to your room."
"Okay," Blaise grinned. She hugged Vanessa again. "It's good to see you again, Ma."
Van smiled, nodding wordlessly. She looked pale as usual, slightly gaunt. But her breath didn't reek of vodka and her posture seemed balanced. Blaise remembered Van mentioned the Ministry cut her hours in court, giving her more time to work at home. Maybe this helped Van keep her issues at bay. But this could go the other way too quickly. Blaise sighed and retreated into her father's office. She threw a pinch of powder into the pyre.
"Susan Bones!" Blaise sang kneeling into the pyre. "Get your arse over here!"
A squeal replied. And with a sudden blast of flame, Blaise fell backwards as a mop of red hair jumped on her.
"Blaise! Bloody hell, you look great!" Susan gasped pulling Blaise to her feet. "You look like your fourteen! Well, a fourteen-year-old boy, I guess. Shame your bubbies are flat."
"Woman, you have no shame," Blaise snorted. She pulled Susan with her to the backyard. "Cedric's playing Quidditch with the Weasley's. Let's watch."
They got on the field just as Cedric flung the Quaffle towards the goalkeeper. The boy caught it effortlessly as Cedric groaned. Blaise whistled. Soon, all the boys descended upon them. Both girls' eyes rounded. They were just expecting the Weasley twins. They got an eyeful.
"You ladies know Fred and George," Cedric said jerking his hand to the boys. Blaise finally determined that Fred had more freckles than George did. "These blokes are my mates at Hogwarts." Three boys stood before them. "This's Roger Davies. He's in Ravenclaw." Roger was about Cedric's height with brown hair and grey eyes. He looked Fred and George's age.
The 2nd boy with reddish blond hair and light blue eyes cleared his throat and extended his hand to Blaise with a toothy grin. "I'm Shawn Keating. Cedric's me housemate." He cocked his head to the 3rd boy. He had brown hair and eyes, quite tall with muscular arms. He smiled shyly at Blaise.
Shawn said, "And this bugger here's Oliver Wood."
"Gryffindor's new Quidditch Captain!" Fred boasted slapping Oliver on the back. "Let's hope that means something this year." Oliver grinned as Susan blushed.
"Do you two play Quidditch?" Oliver asked. "We could use an extra man on each team. Make things more interesting."
Blaise's smiled stiffened. She had never used a broom in her whole life. "Ehh …"
"We'd love to!" Susan gushed. Cedric snickered at Blaise's expression.
"It'll be easy. You'll use my other broom. Susan, you can use my father's old broom. Who's getting who?"
"We'll take the redhead!" George called. Blaise scowled. She always hated being chosen last for teams. Oliver joined the Weasley's. Blaise winked at Susan who's complexion grew redder when Oliver smiled at her. Cedric tossed the girls a broom each.
"Cedric, I have no idea what to do with this," Blaise said holding the contraption wrong side up. "I'm so gonna break myself." Roger swooped beside her.
"Don't sweat it, kid," he said breezily. "Just hook your leg over it like this. Kick on the ground and say Up. We'll guide you once you get up there."
Blaise followed his directions. She hovered slightly. Her crotch ached against the broom's shaft. You've got to be bloody mad to ride this bugger for fun, she thought to herself. Cedric smirked at her uneasiness.
"Don't you dare," Blaise hissed reading his expression. He laughed.
"I wasn't thinking anything!"
"What else is new?! Play nice, Diggory!" Blaise barked, steadying herself. Shawn and Roger flanked her sides.
"You're doing fine, Hot Stuff," Shawn winked. Blaise rolled her eyes.
"This thing is biting my arse," she groaned. Cedric snickered.
"You're too close to the tip. Scoot down a bit. Get yourself centered." Blaise frowned. He looked way too amused at her discomfort. "You look ready." She shook her head. "Oy, George! Let's play!"
The only comfort Blaise had was Susan looked a little awkward on her broom as well. Blaise chose to hover beside an Oak tree. Good thing she slipped on a pair of jeans under her sundress or this would've been really ugly. She sulked by the tree's branches, planning her escape route. She'd kill Susan and Cedric for this, if she survived it. She stared avidly at the tree's thick, leafy branches. She could duck behind those and descend to the ground.
"Blaze!" She looked up and found the Quaffle heading straight for her.
Crap on a leash. She had two options now. Either catch the damn thing or dodge it.
She tried to dodge it. But her broom bucked indignantly. She twisted its handle. "Down!" She hissed, kicking at the bristles. The broom stubbornly shot up letting the Quaffle slam into Blaise's chest. The impact knocked her off the broom. She found herself slung over a branch.
"Aw, hell!" She groaned. The broom snapped at her, showing its scratched handle. Blaise rolled her eyes. "Get over yourself, ya bloody piece of bark!"
Wrong choice of words. It steered behind her and spanked her hard on the arse. Blaise yowled just as Cedric jumped on the rogue broom and wrestled it to the ground. Meanwhile, everyone rolled on the grass laughing up at her.
"Well, that was fun," Blaise sighed, collapsing on the grass beside Susan. She yelped and lifted a buttock. "I think I have a splinter in my arse." Roger and Shawn scrambled over to her.
"Where's it? I'm good at taking off splinters," Roger said. Shawn scowled.
"No, you should go to your mum and get that pulled out. I'll carry you."
Blaise blushed hotly as the boys pushed each other out of the way. She heard the twins snickering at the sight while Susan watched with a sense of awe. Cedric approached them dragging the rogue broom behind him.
"What's going on?" He asked just as Roger shoved Shawn lightly to the ground.
Fred piped up, "Davies and Keating are fighting over who gets to carry the damsel in distress."
"All for a splinter on the arse," George mused. Blaise scrambled to her feet as Cedric frowned at his friends.
"I just said I thought I had one. I don't really think I do," she mumbled avoiding Cedric's scowl. She turned back to the group. "You know, Quidditch's not for me, mates. I have to unpack anyway."
"I'll help you," Susan said. Roger and Shawn looked crestfallen. The girls jogged back to the manor and hopped up the stairs to Blaise's room. Everything had already been unpacked and sorted.
"Oh my god, Blaise!" Susan laughed. Blaise peeked from behind the drapes. The boys' game went back into session. "That was the funniest thing!"
Blaise rolled her eyes and flopped on the bed beside Susan. "Boys are stupid." They giggled. "But I have to admit … that was a little flattering."
Susan braided a bit of Blaise's blond hair. "I see you getting a lot more attention, Blaise. Oh, you wrinkle your nose now, but I see you being the first to dive into the dating pool. Especially with blokes like Roger, Shawn, and Cedric fawning over you."
"GROSS!" Blaise jumped to her feet. "NEVER CEDRIC!" Susan's eyes widened.
"But … I just thought since you two grew up together and all … It would be very romantic, you know. Childhood sweethearts."
"SHUT UP!" Blaise gagged. "Cedric and I would never do that. That's just wrong. That's just nasty. That's just immoral."
"Why? It's not like you're his sister."
"But …" Blaise felt herself deflating. "I … I know." She wanted to cry suddenly. She always thought she and Cedric had a special connection. But Susan's words reminded her sorely that they were just neighbors. For all she knew, her supposed connection to Cedric was purely superficial.
"Hey … are you all right? Did that broom hit you hard?"
Blaise swallowed back the lump in her throat. She was being silly. Whether he's her family or not, Cedric will always be in her life. Just like Susan. Blaise would make sure of it. "I'm fine, Susan."
"You know, Blaise … you're like a sister to me."
Blaise smiled and hugged her friend. "I feel the same way," she sighed. "You know what that means …"
"What?"
"We're never going to hook up."
Susan responded by smothering her with a pillow.
Blaise awoke the next morning by falling off her bed. She tripped on the nightstand and bumped her head on the bedpost. When her vision cleared, she recognized her surroundings. She had been so used to waking up in her room in the island that the manor disoriented her.
She opened the window and took in the fresh scent of jasmine and lilac. She plucked a couple of flowers off the vine and tucked them behind her ear. She had a month and a half of summer ahead of her before wizarding school. Speaking of that, she received letters from Beauxbatons and Durmstang already.
"Lady Blaise!" Yulee squeaked. Blaise grinned and scooped the elf into her arms. "Yulee is so happy to have her Blaise back again!"
"I missed you too, Yulee!" She laughed.
"Yulee made Lady Blaise her favorite breakfast. Cheese blitzes with strawberries. Yulee cooked bacon for Lady Blaise too!"
"YUM! Okay, I'll be in the kitchen in two minutes. I just have to wash my face." Yulee bowed. Blaise searched her armoire for a towel and went into her bathroom.
She returned to her bedroom, dewy-faced and wide-awake. She pulled a shirt from her bureau when something stirred from her bed. Blaise gasped when she saw a screech owl ruffle its feathers. It rolled its delivery to the foot of her bed. She fed the bird a cracker and took the letter with her to the kitchen.
The address was written in green, shimmery ink. But what struck her odd was the way it was addressed:
Miss B. Zabini
Foot of bed on the 4th floor
7 Sparrow's Circle
Creer Upon Libby
She turned over the envelope and noticed the wax seal. She ran down the stairs tearing the letter open. Her eyes widened.
Dear Miss Zabini,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry …
"Ma, I got in! I'm in!"
Despite receiving acceptance letters from Durmstang and Beauxbatons, Blaise Zabini was going to Hogwarts.
Summer break passed by in a blur. Blaise vaguely remembered dragging her father to Diagon Alley. Maybe since Pa spent most of day chasing Blaise through the whole marketplace. Cedric joined her in her school shopping. Zon eventually gave up and waited in the Leaky Cauldron while Cedric showed Blaise around the wizard alley. Shopping went quickly. Blaise wasn't a choosy person. She kept her purchases strictly confined to the items on the list. What she wanted most was to purchase her wand. But Cedric insisted to make a whole bloody ceremony about it. Recommending that moment should be saved for last.
But Blaise finally had her wand. Holly and dragon heart string, 10 inches. She never knew she could love a piece of stick so much. But she did. She kept it under her pillow when she slept. And during the day, she hitched it on a holster Oma sent her. She'd like to see those stupid kids at St. Bridget's mess with her now.
The Boy Who Lived
Blaise did a little pirouette once she stepped onto Platform 9 ¾. Vanessa did most of the crying while Zon tucked Blaise's luggage away in robotic movements. All around them, children scurried around while older teens jogged up to their friends. Several students had already boarded the Hogwarts Express and waved out their windows. Blaise said hello to Neville and his grandma. She couldn't find the Weasley's anywhere though. Saying good-bye to her parents didn't give Blaise a wrench in her chest that she thought she'd have. She did feel bad that Oma couldn't see her depart.
"Be good, sweetie!" Van called. Blaise waved at her parents. McGee stood in the background watching Blaise leave with Cedric. A small tear rolled down the woman's cheek. Blaise blew all three of them a kiss. And as the train pulled away, she saw the smiles on her parents' faces. Their glow made Blaise catch her breath. She finally felt the tug on her heart. She never thought she'd see them happy again, but they were. And it was because she was … leaving. She didn't know whether to sing or wail. Instead, she bit her lip and stared at the buildings zipping past her window.
"How are you feeling?" Cedric asked. Susan already had a cabin so they sat with her. Zephyr snoozed beside him, bloated with sunflower seeds. The naturally-bred hawk-owl crossbreed was a gift from her father. Cedric gave the bird its name.
Blaise threw him a dazzling smile. It seemed silly of her to dampen her own spirits. "I don't know yet, Cedwick," she cooed babyishly, wrapping herself around his arm. "But I'll let you know." He ruffled her hair.
"You'll be fine, Blazy. I know you will."
Susan had been drooling on Blaise's shoulder when Fred knocked on their cabin. Cedric yawned loudly and cracked the door open.
"Oy, Fred. Are we there yet?"
"We've got a few more hours. But did you hear? You won't believe who's on this train."
"Who?" Cedric asked scratching at his nose. George pushed his twin into the cabin and slid the door behind them. By this time, Blaise and Susan were wide awake and leaned on the edge of their seats.
"Saw him ourselves. Helped him with his luggage. Smaller than I thought he'd be, but it's him."
"WHO?!" The girls chorused.
"Harry Potter."
Cedric and Susan gasped loudly, but Blaise wrinkled her nose.
"Oh, you mean The Boy Who Lived?" She snorted. "Is that all? I thought it was some celebrity from Hollywood or summat. Like Johnny Depp."
"Who?" Now Fred wrinkled his nose at her. "Harry Potter IS a bloody celebrity."
"He's the one who blew up You-Know-Who!" George declared.
"Voldemort? I know that," Blaise said quickly. "It's just … well, didn't that happen years ago? And how can you be sure it was him? Have you seen him before?"
Now everyone looked at her like she was an alien. Blaise frowned. She didn't understand what the big deal was. Oma told her about Harry Potter, mentioning him briefly during lectures on Death-Eaters. But it seemed like a minor detail.
"Where's his cabin? Did you introduce yourselves to him?" Susan asked.
"We already did. Ron's sitting with him. We're just stalking the snack cart. Which reminds me, Lee and Oliver's waiting in the hall for us." The twins got up from their seat. Susan jumped after them.
"Um … I feel like some pumpkin juice myself. I'll go with you guys." Fred and George shrugged and scooted out the cabin while Susan tailed them, fluffing her hair quickly behind her. Cedric rolled his eyes behind her.
Once the door closed again, Blaise sulked in her seat. "Did I sound stupid a while ago, Cedric?"
Cedric ruffled her hair. "It's okay. You studied in a muggle school, so you missed out on all this Harry Potter hype."
"But my parents did tell me about him. But I guess they downplayed it. Even Oma didn't seem impressed when she spoke of him. I mean … she said he was the luckiest little bugger in the world to survive and defeat Voldemort. But I never thought he was a bloody celebrity as Fred put it." Blaise frowned.
"Well, you family's different, you know. Just by the fact that they taught you to call You-Know-Who by his name. My dad told me that Oma and your folks helped the Ministry weed out a lot of You-Know-Who's supporters after his disappearance. Dad said Oma was the most fearless, most aggressive Auror of that time. Until she retired and lived the life of a recluse on that island."
"Hey! Oma's not a recluse!" Blaise snorted punching him lightly on the arm. "Okay, she's a little off her rocker. But I think it's just cabin fever." Cedric scratched at his chin.
"I always wondered why she never goes to the mainland. Is that just her 'thing' like Mad-Eye Moody and his flask?"
Blaise shrugged. "Papa told me Oma had a bad back, so it made traveling difficult. I've asked her before but she doesn't talk about it. But … I don't know. I think Oma still can kick some arse if she wanted to."
"Maybe it is a bad back. Some old people, especially ones as active as Oma, don't like admitting they're getting a bit crusty on the edges."
Blaise leaned back on her seat. Zephyr fluttered to her lap and rested his head on her stomach. "Well, her back's probably okay now. She's coming to our manor for Christmas." The cabin door opened again and Susan stepped inside, red-faced.
"Did you see Potter? Or did you chat up with Oliver instead?" Blaise asked. Susan shook her head as a tear fell down her cheek. "Susan, what happened?"
"A horrible boy … made fun of me. Abbot laughed …"
"Bloody Abbot is on this train?!" Blaise snarled. Cedric pushed her back down on her seat.
"Simmer down, Blaze. I don't think it's Abbot this time. Is it, Susan?"
She hiccupped between her sniffles, "Stupid, pasty boy, all pinch-faced. He had these gorilla monsters with him. Pushed me on the floor. He figured I was looking for Potter. He said Potter would never make friends with me. Then he made fun that my family was killed. I tried to fight back, but he pushed me on the bloody floor. Then Abbot stuck her nose out her cabin and laughed. Bet she only did it, because he scared her."
"Bloody lemming," Blaise hissed. Just then, Shawn poked his head through the door.
"Hey, Cedric? Gerber's calling a meeting. Just to map out the game plan. Bring your broom too. He wants to look it over." Cedric nodded curtly as Shawn winked at Blaise. Cedric gripped his broom and turned to the girls.
"Leave this to me, girls. Don't be running out here cursing people silly." He looked directly at Blaise.
"But you can't do anything!" She groaned. "You can't use magic until you get to the school! At least, I don't have a ban like that on me yet!"
"See that's where we're different, Blaze. Sometimes, the best way is through communication. Not barging out here, lighting everyone's arse on fire."
"But, Cedric, they started it!"
"No," he said firmly. He closed the door behind him. Locking it for extra measure.
"Oh hell no," she mumbled and pulled her wand from her holster. Susan wiped her tears away.
"Blaise, it's okay. I don't want you to get into any trouble first thing-"
"Susan, you can't let them buggers walk over you like that! You let them get away with one thing; they'll only do it again. And make the pain and humiliation worse. Let them know who's boss! Let them know you can hex their arses to Timbuktu!"
"But, Blaise, as much as I'd love to do that. I don't know a lot of spells." Blaise flashed her a devilish grin.
"Watch and learn, Bones." She pointed her wand to the door. "Alohamora!" The door sprung open and they ventured in the hall. "Tell me. What does this bugger look like?" Susan gulped and pointed down the hall.
"That one. The skinny, blonde one who looks like he's just inhaled some dung." The girls marched over there. The boy stood in front of some rather sour-looking children, talking up a storm.
"… That Potter is a joke. They act like he's a bloody miracle worker! Please! He can't even afford a decent pair of jeans or shoes. His shirt looked like an elephant threw up its skin on him …" The kids roared in laughter. Blaise scowled. "And you should see the company he keeps. Poor boy Weasley. The loser still had coal on his face. And that git Longbottom went into his cabin with some Mudblood with pubes for hair!"
Blaise cleared her throat and tapped the boy hard on the back of his head. He spun around. He sneered at Susan, and raised his brow at Blaise.
"What do you want, Bones? Decide to bring your back-up?" The kids chuckled behind him. One boy shouted behind him.
"Hey, blondie! Back that arse up over here!" Blaise narrowed her eyes.
"Susan wants you to apologize for pushing her in the hall. And you will."
The boy crossed his arms. "Oh really? And I suppose you think you're going to make me? Who the hell are you anyway? Bone's looks more like your servant than you hers."
Blaise blew the hair from her eyes. "I'm Blaise Zabini. And I don't give a damn who you are, so save the introduction. I'm telling you politely … apologize or else."
Several students fidgeted behind the boy. He, too, flicked his grey eyes over Blaise with more interest now.
"Zabini, huh? Well, isn't that touching, everyone? A Zabini's helping out a Bone's for once. Are you trying to start a revolution here? Should I start donating to the Weasley's as well? Wouldn't that be the day? But my family's always giving to charities. I wouldn't be surprised if the Weasley's did receive a hand-me-out from a Malfoy."
Blaise snorted. "Ooh, Malfoy. Yeah, that plug for yourself wasn't obvious at all."
"Oh yeah? Well, how about this wand under your chin?" He grinned. Sneaky bastard, Blaise seethed. "My father's taught me well, Zabini. Just walk away. No chance in hell I'm apologizing to anybody."
Blaise pulled Susan behind her. The whole time, her left hand was under her cloak. "I was taught well too, Malfoy. Go ahead. Just bloody try. I want to use this wand on you. I could use the entertainment."
His eyes widened as he glanced at the bulge under Blaise's cloak. The standoff lasted for several seconds. Then Malfoy tried his first curse.
Blaise deflected it and blasted Malfoy back into his crowd. They piled up on top of each other. Blaise made certain Malfoy's heavy sidekicks fell on top of the dog pile last to add discomfort. Malfoy aimed his wand and hit Blaise with a weak Rictusempra hex. Blaise stopped laughing long enough to mutter another spell that made Malfoy jump up and rub his groin.
"What the hell? What is this?!" He yelled. He pulled his belt up and howled.
"A simple hex, Malfoy. Say you're sorry and I'll make those leeches on your balls disappear. Unless … that's your thing." Blaise yawned while Susan giggled nervously behind her. Malfoy gasped and yelped in pain.
"Okay! I'm bloody sorry!" He screamed.
"Again. And watch your language this time."
Malfoy threw her a murderous look but the leeches dug into his crotch again.
"I'm very sorry, Bones! I swear. I'm sorry!" Blaise turned slowly to Susan.
"Is that okay for you? Or should I send something up his arse for more feeling?"
"NO! Susan Bones! I'm terribly sorry. I won't ever push you anywhere ever again!" Malfoy wailed. Susan smiled at Blaise and nodded.
"Guess that'll have to do," Blaise drawled. Susan skipped back to their cabin. Blaise waved her wand and Malfoy stopped writhing in pain. "Just remember, Malfoy. If it were up to me, I'd've let those slugs suck you dry." She threw a menacing look at Malfoy's pale-faced cronies.
"You've all been forewarned." She pivoted on her heel and sauntered back to her cabin.
A few minutes later, Cedric unlocked the door and settled sheepishly back in his seat.
"I'm sorry I had to lock you girls in. I just don't think you should start any fights so early," he said. "But I did tell a couple of prefects what happened. So whichever house that boy gets sorted in, he'll be written up and warned."
"It's okay, Cedric," Blaise said sweetly. Susan nodded casually flipping a page in a magazine. "You know, if Malfoy knows any better, he's probably regretting his actions, maybe even wincing at them as we speak."
Blaise and Susan pretended to laugh over a picture in the magazine while Cedric scratched his head. He never said that the boy was a Malfoy. He tried not to frown as he worried what Blaise got herself into this time.
The train ride ended shortly after Blaise's duel with Malfoy. Cedric told the girls to follow Hagrid to the boats. Cedric ruffled Blaise's hair as Garrett jogged up to them.
"That's for good luck in the sorting," he grinned. Blaise bit her lip.
"Cedric, what if I don't get into Hufflepuff?" A small panic crept into her voice. He shook his head.
"It wouldn't matter to me which house you got sorted in. I'll still be there for you. Besides, you met Oliver and Roger. They have specific instructions from me to look out for you. Just in case."
Blaise grinned and hugged him tightly. "I'll see you soon!" She skipped away from him and joined Susan with the rest of the 1st years.
Susan elbowed Blaise gently in her side. "That's him."
"Who?" Blaise frowned, scanning the crowd. She suddenly caught her breath.
"Standing beside Ron. The one with glasses. Can you see the scar?"
Blaise didn't answer. She didn't hear Susan. She had been staring at the boy a few feet from her. He had wickedly, messy black hair and brilliant green eyes. He bent his head and slipped a worn pair of glasses over them. He grinned up at Hagrid.
"All right there, Harry?"
Blaise flinched. So this was Harry Potter. He nodded up at Hagrid, brushing a lock of hair from his eyes. She saw he had a scar on his forehead. She took a step back, staring at the scar. Shaped like a bolt of lightning …
"OUCH! Watch where you're going!" A girl hissed behind her. Blaise spun around and stared down at Hannah Abbot. The girl lifted a brow at Blaise. "Well, if it isn't Blaise Zabini. What a surprise to have you here. I thought Hogwarts only accepted children who were enrolled at birth. So … how many galleons did your family pay to get your arse here?"
Susan pulled Blaise away before the girl yanked her wand out. "Let it go, Blaise. Let's just follow Hagrid."
Nobody spoke much as they followed Hagrid down a steep, rocky path. Well, once in a while Blaise would hear Malfoy complain distantly behind them. Or Neville would sniff loudly ahead of them. Knowing Neville, he must've lost something or forgot to eat. Blaise tried not to stare too much at the back of Potter's head, but she couldn't help it. So more than once, she tripped over some stones on the path.
Around the bend, everyone got their first sight of Hogwarts. Blaise smiled widely, taking in the castle perched on the hulking mountain of granite. A wide lake opened at the edge of the path, its waters stirred quietly as more students gathered behind Hagrid. Blaise saw over a dozen small boats lined along the lake's shore. Hagrid jabbed a stubby finger at the boats.
"No more'n four to a boat!" He called. Blaise saw Malfoy and one of his mates follow Potter and Weasley. Malfoy had a twisted grin on his lips, eying Potter and the lake. Blaise didn't know why she did it, but she stuck out her boot just as Malfoy passed in front of her. He stumbled. So it was Neville and another girl who joined the boys on the boat.
Blaise joined Susan on one boat. Unfortunately, Hannah joined them as well, with another redhead. This girl smiled shyly at Blaise and Susan.
"Hi, I'm Morag MacDougal," she said blushing. Blaise smiled at her, ignoring Hannah, who in turn ignored her.
"I'm Blaise Zabini, and this's Susan Bones." The girls exchanged handshakes. Morag turned expectantly to Hannah but the girl kept her face turned away from the girls. Morag raised her brow glancing back at Blaise. Blaise crossed her eyes behind Hannah's back and made a lewd gesture. Morag snickered. Blaise liked her already.
Blaise started feeling nervous when Professor McGonagall left them in a small chamber beside the Entrance Hall. Blaise leaned on the stonewall beside Susan. Morag shuffled up to the girls.
"Is it okay if I …" She stammered staring at the ground. Blaise scooted over.
"Sure, Morag." She smiled. Susan bit on her nail.
"Are you nervous? I heard we'd be tested. I … I don't think I'm ready," Morag said quietly. Susan nodded biting her nail harder. Blaise sighed.
"Someone told me we'd have our brains scanned." She patted Morag on the shoulder. "I don't think it's as bad as it sounds," Blaise insisted, trying to convince both of them. Her nerves heightened when Malfoy sauntered over to them.
"Feeling brave, are we, Zabini?" He whispered. Blaise barked a small laugh.
"You obviously are, Malfoy. Did you want me to hex you in the arse now?" Morag's eyes widened. Malfoy's face went pink but he kept the sneer on his lips.
"Just to let you know, Zabini. You had better pray you aren't sorted into Slytherin. Because that's where I'll be."
"Please," Blaise snorted. "I'm not in the same category as you, Malfoy. You're just wannabe Dark Wizard trash. Yes, I called you trash. Now fuck off." Malfoy waved a fist at her.
"You've been warned, girl." Blaise rolled her eyes.
Professor McGonagall stepped back into the chamber. Malfoy backed away as the Professor had them form a line.
"Blaise, you're crazy!" Susan hissed as Morag followed behind them. "Cedric's right. You shouldn't be picking fights especially with the Malfoy's. They're a powerful family. You should be more careful." Blaise frowned.
"I won't let anyone intimidate me, Susan. Everyone's here for the same reason. To be wizards. I can't stand people like Malfoy who think they're better than everyone else." Susan shook her head. Blaise narrowed her eyes at Malfoy as they walked into the Great Hall.
"Was Susan right?" Morag whispered behind Blaise. She shrugged.
"I've encountered people like Malfoy before. I expect he'll be a thorn on my side for a while. But I'm prepared." She patted the wand under her cloak. "Besides, I'm not going where he'll be."
Morag bit her lip. "Malfoy's a pureblood, right?" Blaise nodded. "Are you a pureblood too?" Blaise wrinkled her nose.
"As far as I know, yeah. But blood's not everything." Morag nodded quietly. The professor pulled out a scroll. She then explained how the sorting would commence.
"That's it?" Morag snorted. "We just sit on a stool and wear a hat?!" Just then the hat's brim opened and it sang it's song. Soon after, the sorting began.
Hannah Abbot was the first one called. Blaise grimaced when the Sorting Hat sorted the girl into Hufflepuff. God, I'm never going to get rid of that girl, Blaise thought to herself. But even with Hannah Abbot, she still wanted Hufflepuff.
The hat also sorted Susan into Hufflepuff. Susan gave Blaise the thumbs up sign after she sat next to Hannah. Cedric patted her on the back. Blaise's nervousness turned to excitement. She couldn't wait to share a dorm with Susan. She already imagined all the hi-jinx they'd get into. They'd rule Hogwarts. And she'll have Malfoy and Abbot crawling on their knees.
Blaise concentrated on clearing her mind before her turn. Neville was sorted into Gryffindor. Well, at least if she was sorted there she'd know Neville, the Weasley's, and Oliver. Morag was then sorted into Ravenclaw. She whispered good luck to Blaise before she went to her table. Blaise grinned inwardly. She knew someone in Ravenclaw too. She didn't feel as tense then. If the hat sorted her in either house, she would still be okay.
The hat placed Malfoy in Slytherin, of course. Big whup. Blaise glared at him and his cronies. They all reminded Blaise of the kids in St. Bridget's. Rich, bratty, with powerful parents. She frowned. Somehow, that didn't sound too far from herself.
Then Potter sat on the stool. Blaise held her breath. After some debate, the hat yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Ever since Blaise knew about Hogwarts and ever since Cedric started studying there, she only knew one thing … she had to be sorted in Hufflepuff. She didn't even think about it. But now … oh, this was stupid. Just because Potter's in Gryffindor – PFFT! She wasn't those kind of girls. Like hell. She'll take Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. She didn't care about Potter and his precious Gryffindor.
Well, that's stupid, Blaise mused. Why was she all defensive suddenly? The boy's done nothing, but stand there with his crazy-arse hair and shiny green eyes … Blaise bowed her head, hoping no one noticed the blush rise to her cheeks. What the hell's she thinking?
Professor McGonagall called Ron Weasley's name. He looked ready to hurl, but the hat sorted him to Gryffindor as Blaise predicted.
"Zabini, Blaise."
The hat covered her eyes and Blaise saw nothing. The hat hemmed and hawed. Blaise sighed.
"Hurry up and sort me to Hufflepuff already," she mumbled to herself. The hat snickered.
"Hufflepuff? Oh no, child, you're too much for that house."
"What?! Why would you say that?!"
"Well, Hufflepuff's pretty much for the tenderhearted, forgiving soul, Zabini. That's not you. No … I sense a lot of ambition in you, extreme intelligence, the desire to prove yourself …"
Her pulse quickened. "Then Gryffindor maybe?" She suddenly saw herself sitting by the fireplace swapping lectures notes with Potter. She shook her head. She's Blaise 'Hex-Your-Arse' Zabini, not giggle-happy Harry Potter fan. The hat chuckled.
"You're quite stubborn, aren't you? You remind me a lot of your grandmother. Yes, Rhonda Zabini was a firecracker."
"Ravenclaw then," Blaise said. "That's fine with me. Oma would be happy." She got ready to take off the hat.
"Yes … Ravenclaw would suit you well … You're aversion to do anything by the book is not their motto though … I'll have to go … SLYTHERIN!"
Blaise almost fell off her stool. "What?!"
"Well, a Zabini's needed there."
She tore the hat off her head and stormed off the podium. She couldn't believe it. She couldn't bloody believe this! This was a big, hulking, perverse mistake! She didn't catch the glances Cedric and Susan exchanged, or Morag's small encouraging wave. Blaise dragged her feet to the dreary table and scowled when Draco Malfoy scooted over.
"Saved a seat for you, Zabini," he drawled.
She flopped on the chair and flicked her hair in his face. He scowled but looked the other direction when he caught Professor Dumbledore glancing their way.
The rest of the night passed in a blur. Blaise picked at her plate, not feeling hungry, not feeling like anything. She actually considered writing to her parents. Ask them to come pick her up. Ship her off to Beauxbatons or something. This wasn't right.
"You're awfully quiet there, Zabini," Malfoy teased. He deliberately knocked her glass of pumpkin juice on her lap. He chuckled, watching Blaise's complexion turn from green to pink. Blaise waved her fork in his face.
"I'm not scared of you, punk," she hissed. Then she knocked down his glass of juice. He jumped from his seat. He looked ready to punch her in the face.
"Slytherin, first years! Come this way!" A prefect barked. Blaise blended with the crowd of girls. She felt like the victim of a cruel joke. She followed the group into the Entrance Hall. The 1st year Gryffindors followed behind her. She saw Percy leading them away. She paused and lifted her hand to wave at him. Percy looked right past her and called for the first years to follow him up the marble staircase.
Blaise felt a lump in her throat. She didn't follow her group to the Slytherin dorm. Instead, she pushed through the castle's doors and flopped on the front steps. She cradled her head in her hands.
Percy didn't even smile at her. Cedric and Susan probably will do the same. She's in Slytherin. No … she IS a Slytherin. The hat was right. She was stubborn, totally disrespectful to the rules, and yeah … she wanted to prove herself. If proving herself meant proving her critics wrong.
The hat said Hufflepuffs were tenderhearted and forgiving. She wasn't that at all. But she wasn't good enough for Ravenclaw or Gryffindor either. And Blaise knew … in the back of her mind she knew … she deserved Slytherin. She was such a wreck of a kid.
"Miss Zabini?" She jerked her head up in surprise. A tall man dressed in black robes stared down his nose at her. "Shouldn't you be with your housemates?" Blaise slouched further into the step.
"Can I contest my sorting, Professor?"
"Professor Snape," he said sharply. "And no, you cannot dispute your sorting. If we allowed you this privilege, we'd have to grant it to every student. It would cause an imbalance of each house's enrollment." Blaise groaned under her breath.
"I suppose a lot of people didn't like their sorting." Professor Snape's lip twitched.
"Actually, you're the first student who's complained. Come along, Miss Zabini. I'm the Head of your house. If you have any questions, come to me." Judging from the sneer on Professor Snape's face, Blaise would have to make that a last resort.
She followed him down a damp corridor. It seemed the light grew dimmer in this part of the castle, just like her spirits. They stopped at a brick wall. Snape turned to her.
"The password is Fio regere. Get yourself settled. You will get your schedules first thing tomorrow."
"Wait. You're not coming in there with me?" Professor Snape raised his brow.
"Is there something you wish to tell me, Miss Zabini?"
She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. "Nothing I can't handle myself, Professor." She ducked through the wall before he could question her further.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in," an older girl smirked crossing her arms in front of her. Blaise recognized her as one of the kids on the train. The girl had a badge with the letters HG by her collar. Great, I knocked over the bloody Head Girl, Blaise groaned inwardly. She steadied her hand inside her cloak.
"You must be feeling stupid right now, Zabini," Malfoy snickered. He flipped through a comic book in front of the fireplace. Blaise narrowed her eyes.
She noticed several students turned to her. For a house notorious for Dark Magic and devilish behavior, the students of Slytherin were a handsome bunch … save for a few trolls. Purebloods were an interesting breed. Imagine going through one's family line, whittling out the weak and flawed from the strong and immaculate, to preserve all the best traits. It was similar to the muggles' manipulation of DNA and genetics.
Strength of the blood's purity can be directly related to how handsome or beautiful the wizard or witch was. It meant the blood never strayed to a foreign line. Purebloods received the best service, the most thorough education in magic, etiquette, and fashion. And of all types of wizards, a pureblood bred with these privileges had to meet high expectations from not only their family but from also themselves.
Every single one of them donned luxurious robes with belts of fine leather. Their jewelry, which varied from Medieval to Ancient Greek to Contemporary New York, sparkled as bright as their eyes. And one could tell from their eyes that powerful magic brewed deep in them. The dim lighting and musty air of the dungeons darkened their features. Like Michelangelo's marble sculptures, their faces resembled angels and Adonis' of the Old World. Inspirations of Rembrandt and Da Vinci. Blaise wouldn't be surprised if these students' ancestors did pose for the legendary artists. Yes, they were all tragically beautiful … like angels with blackened wings, ready to pounce at the jugular. Blaise found this observation rather seductive.
Acknowledging this, only made Blaise feel more out of place. Sure she didn't belong in the other houses because she wasn't good enough for them. But she didn't think she was bad enough for Slytherin either.
Blaise knew they outnumbered her. She remembered vividly the last beating she took from the kids at St. Bridget's. Even if she had walked away from that fight, she still felt she lost. Draco smirked as he twirled his wand from one hand to the other.
"You know, if you beg me, I'll let you off easy … today."
The smugness in his voice annoyed Blaise. But for some reason, she felt calm. The wand at her side made her feel prepared. She felt complete and … free. Fio regere, Snape said was the password. Fio regere: 'I am made … to rule.'
She flicked her cloak off her shoulder revealing her wand.
"Do your worst," she said evenly. The Head Girl raised a brow while Malfoy aimed his wand at Blaise's heart.
"Hold it, Malfoy," she snapped. He scowled. The girl approached Blaise slowly. A smile crept to her lips, Blaise found it unsettling. "Impressive, Zabini. You've got a whole house ready to beat your arse in, yet you're ready for it. If that's not Slytherin feistiness, than I'm a muggle."
Blaise flinched while Malfoy sulked in the corner. The girl extended her hand.
"I'm Elle Wood. I think you met my cousin Oliver?" Blaise nodded. Elle jerked her head towards a spiral staircase. "The girls' dorm's that way. I'll show you." She turned to Malfoy. "Did you want something, Malfoy?"
He slouched away. Blaise flipped him the bird and followed Elle up the stairs.
"It's brave of you to stand up to Malfoy, Zabini," Elle said quietly. "But you shouldn't turn against the whole house. Malfoy has many connections. His father specializes in intimidating people and manipulating them." She led Blaise to a large door stained in a rich burgundy varnish.
"I know about his family. My grandmother told me about them. I think I've been briefed enough to recognize all the Death-Eaters." Elle gasped but stared at Blaise admirably.
"I don't know what the hat was thinking sorting you here. But you better watch your back with that talk, Blaise." Elle smiled. "I won't be your baby-sitter."
"I don't need one, Elle," Blaise replied. Elle nodded.
"Well, take my advice. If you want to survive this house, make friends. We're not all that bad."
"Yeah, I could tell."
Blaise watched Elle walk away. She sighed and opened the door to her dorm. Two girls turned to her. Their reactions were mixed.
"That hex you did on Malfoy was impressive," a girl with black hair said.
"What're you doing in this house?" The petite girl with rosy blond hair demanded.
… A Zabini's needed there … Blaise shrugged and threw her cloak on her bed. The holster was still snug on her chest.
"To raise hell I guess."
To her surprise, all the girls grinned back at her.
I'm going to zip by her years. So her first year isn't going to be this 5 chapter long entry. Again, thanks for reading. Thanks for reviewing. ~Nengski