Chapter Four: Truth About the Zabini's
Chain of Letters
My Dearest Blaise,
I understand you're upset about your sorting, but your Professor Snape is right. You can't petition for a second opinion. I would've liked you sorted into Ravenclaw simply because that was my old House, but I think Slytherin would be good for you. You'll find your powers challenged often, you'll find your strengths and weaknesses faster this way. I know you want to develop into the great sorceress I believe you'll become. Don't listen to what other people say about Slytherin. I had friends in that House, all who I love and are still dear to me this day. Bad people don't come from Houses, Blaise. They come from their decisions. Keep that in your mind always. Prove them all wrong.
Love, Oma
Dearest Blaise,
I would've loved to have you go to my school, but I have to say you're still safer in Hogwarts than in Durmstang or even in Beauxbatons. Your mum agrees and extends her love.
We feel we gave you the wrong impression about Slytherin in general. Yes, plenty Death-Eaters, Voldemort himself, came from this house, but you need to remember that the children in Slytherin are not their parents. There's still potential for them to NOT make the same mistakes or go down the same road their past has traveled. Give them the benefit of the doubt, dear. Sometimes all one needs is someone who believes in them.
Take care of yourself. Hope you're adding more beads to your collection. See you soon.
Love, Dad
My Blaise,
Please don't put yourself down just because you're in Slytherin. Cedric and Susan are still in Hogwarts. I trust they won't abandon you just for this. I don't know why the hat sorted you there, but if I had to guess … it's because of your previous experience. Don't be ashamed of what you endured growing up, sweetie. I know you didn't have the most typical childhood but this has made you strong, fearless, and fierce. Slytherin looks for those very qualities in their students, these aren't bad traits at all. And from my own experience, the Sorting hat placed me in Hufflepuff, because I was a crybaby that loved animals and I was a bit lazy when it comes to reading books. I know you can turn the situation around to your benefit. You're a fighter, Blaise. Give them hell.
Love always, McGee
Learning to Fly
Her first week at Hogwarts wasn't as bad as she thought it'd be considering the sordid twist of events. Elle's approval of Blaise thawed the iciness of her peers to a certain degree. After the first week, Blaise had done her own sorting. She came up with three lists titling them: Friends, To Be Hexed, and Safe for Now.
On her Friends list were obviously, Susan and Cedric. Though she hadn't spoken to Cedric since the Sorting. He sent notes to Blaise via Susan, reminding the blonde to keep her chin up and offering his textbooks for Blaise to research new hexes. The Weasley's were all on this list too, but all had asterisks. That meant she considered them friends but they might have a different opinion on her. Neville was on her list too, but Malfoy teased the poor boy so much that Blaise wondered if she could ever look Neville in the eye without feeling ashamed. Elle and Oliver Wood, Roger Davies, and Shawn Keating completed the list.
Safe for Now were all her roommates, the whole 1st year batches of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, and some Hufflepuffs. Both lists were moderate. As were Blaise's social skills. She wasn't trying to be Miss Popular here. She just wanted to be another anonymous character on Hogwarts' campus. Just a last name on role call.
To Be Hexed, unfortunately, was a big arse list. Malfoy and his minions were top on the list, of course, though Blaise noticed his animosity ebbed a bit since he focused on aggravating Potter and Weasley. The whole Slytherin Quidditch team was on her list because they painted Cedric's new broom pink and made up a very offensive euphemism of Hufflepuff. Plus, Marcus Flint was a punk who said girls had no business on the Quidditch field. This prompted Millicent Bulstrode to fling bread pudding on his head. Come to think of it, Millicent's Safe for Now status could be upgraded any day now.
Hannah Abbot pissed off Blaise, Susan … and pretty much everyone else when she banged on about zodiac signs during their first Astronomy class. Her cocky ignorance prompted Professor Sinistra into a pop quiz and four feet of parchment homework.
All of Cedric's girl classmates hated Blaise. His notes to and enthusiastic chat about his neighbor had the girls jealous especially when they all saw Blaise as this 11-year old, flat-chested Slytherin. They apparently didn't see the allure to that.
In fact, Blaise noticed that plenty of girls in the other houses resented her. She could only assume it was due to the attention she got from Cedric and his friends. Who knew Cedric would be so popular and coveted? None of the girls understood why a Slytherin like Zabini would be friends with some of the coolest and cutest blokes in Hogwarts. Well, frankly, Blaise didn't get it either. It wasn't like she was their muse or anything. The boys teased her about her broom incident, messed with her hair, pinched her nose, called her ickle Blazy-poo, and suffocated her with their flatulence. Yet the girls think this's a good thing? *sigh*
Blaise made it a point to get out of the Slytherin dorm early every day. She had already cost the house forty points in the past three days, because she developed a habit of confronting anyone who so much as flared a nostril her way. Professor Snape seemed bemused by her feistiness; the rest of the house did not however.
Her schedule came out to her advantage in spite she only had one class with Susan. She had Astronomy with Hufflepuff on Wednesday, and on Friday, she had Potions with Gryffindor. As for the other classes, she sat next to Morag in every single one. Though Morag was nothing like Susan or even Hong, Blaise found herself bonding quickly with the Ravenclaw.
Morag MacDougal came from a mixed family of wizards and muggles. Both her folks descended from pureblood families but later generations crossed over to wed muggleborns, muggles, and half-and-half's. Still, Morag had expected to be a Slytherin since her father's side of the family was predominantly from that house. Morag even had relatives in Slytherin, well; they've since disowned her little impure arse, but still.
Morag's personality bordered on the shy side, so she didn't adapt well to Ravenclaw's penchant for social competitiveness. Popularity meant a lot in that house as much as it did in Slytherin. The difference was Ravenclaws desired popularity for the sake of being popular, while Slytherins considered popularity a stepping-stone to the ultimate goal: Total Domination. Morag had other reasons for not bonding with her housemates …
"They're all so vain," she muttered as she cuddled her Puffskein. "I couldn't use the bloody bathroom this morning because all the 2nd years crowded around it, dabbing gobbledy-gook on their lips. Just so they can prance around Davies or Diggory, whenever he walks by. God, I hope I don't get like that when I hit puberty." The Puffskein hummed in response, Morag couldn't help grinning.
They had Care for Magical Creatures. Blaise giggled as her Puffskein wrapped its slinky pink tongue around her finger. The furry little balls had the whole class preoccupied and allowed the two girls to talk privately.
"Girls are swooning over Cedric?" Blaise snorted. "But he's a dork. Picks his nose, belches the alphabet. Isn't that right my ickle Puffy Skinny?" She cooed snuggling the Puffskein to her nose.
"Well, when you put it that way, he is a bit disgusting," Morag snorted. "Hey, when's your flying class? Mine's this afternoon. I can't wait. Mum used to let me …"
Blaise gulped. "Flying class? As in flying with brooms?"
"No, flying as in flapping your buttocks really fast," Morag snorted. "Of course I meant brooms."
Blaise's Puffskein suddenly peeped. She set it back on the table to let its tongue dig into a thimble filled with lint. "Is this class mandatory?"
"Well … I suppose it is. I mean, how else are you going to travel? Floo's no picnic."
Blaise spent the rest of the class moping. She didn't mind that a broom embarrassed her in front of people in Creer Upon Libby. She had been among friends. But if a broom went berserk on her in front of her housemates -- shit, in front of the whole school -- she'll never live that down.
"You'll be just fine, Blaise," Susan yawned.
"I suppose. Urgh! I hate brooms. Why can't I just use my Travlas Orb like all the other prodigies?"
"Oh shush. Show off."
Wednesday, Midnight at the Astronomy Tower, Susan didn't really give Blaise a chance to play the Recluse card. She pulled Blaise to a seat the moment the reluctant Slytherin stepped onto the tower. This melted away Blaise's defenses and they were back to their usual routine: talking while pretending to look studious. Professor Sinistra gave them coordinates while they peered into the telescopes.
"Once you plot the lunar cycle of these planets, calculate the tide influx. Evaluate how all these factors play into the energy subsidy in wand use," the professor said in her buttery voice. She was a pretty woman, probably around Vanessa's age. She reminded Blaise of Van too, with the black hair and dark, heart-shaped lips. Blaise wondered what her mum was up to now, how was Yulee coping with no one in the manor, if Oma ever found what she had searched for in her maps.
"Psst! Hey, Zabini! I can see Uranus from here," Malfoy snickered. His friends joined him. Susan narrowed her eyes at them.
"Ignore them," Blaise sighed. "That's actually a compliment."
"I guess." Susan smirked. "Means he's checking out your bum."
"No, I-I didn't mean that. I mean … Well, he's usually …"
"I know what you meant. Oh my god, don't tell me you're blushing, you silly moo. It's Malfoy."
"I'm not blushing!" Blaise hissed a little louder than she liked. "Sorry. It's just been a pill dealing with that chuffer. He irks me so much that anything sets me off. Stupid, huh?"
"Quite," replied Susan. Thank god, they had this class at night or Susan would see her blush. Blaise stuck her tongue at her and took her turn on the telescope.
Friday she had Potions and dreaded flying lessons. If her broom-riding skills didn't improve by then, Malfoy and pretty much everyone in Hogwarts will be seeing Blaise's Uranus soon enough.
Shit, it's Friday, Blaise thought groggily to herself. She sat with her group at the table now, having breakfast. Well, at least trying to … Blaise kept her nose pointed at her plate. Locking eyes with anyone made her uneasy. She especially tuned out any voice that remotely resembled Cedric's, Susan's, or Malfoy's. Too bad Blaise couldn't tune out the voice that was currently speaking though.
"Parvati Patil makes me sick," Pansy Parkinson sniffed as she watched the Gryffindor slide into a seat next to Ron Weasley. "She acts all holier than Thou, ever since the sorting. But on the train ride here, she ranted how stupid Seamus Finnigan was and how she couldn't believe Hogwarts let a muggleborn like Granger in."
"Granger's smart," Blaise mumbled, swirling her spoon in her coffee. She wished Hong was around so she bum a valium from her or something. Anything to dull this constant complaining and whining.
Pansy rolled her eyes. "Granger's a fussy, bossy know-it-all who assumes everyone around her is a dunderhead."
"Takes one to know one," Blaise said under her breath. Only Elle heard her and winked. Blaise smiled back tentatively.
Blaise found Elle complex. The Head Girl ruled the house and the whole school with an iron fist. But around Blaise, she seemed quite easy-going and laid back. She couldn't figure out which personality was true to Elle. Still, it felt good to have an older kid admire her for once, not try to chop off her hair or tie her to a flagpole so she'll fry in the sun.
Pansy took a long gulp from her goblet. "Well, I'm just glad we don't see those stupid Gryffindors often. Potions with them every Friday is enough. They're such a sorry lot." Blaise bit her lip. Millicent Bulstrode snickered.
"Longbottom was pretty pathetic." Blaise stiffened. "I'm embarrassed to say he's a Pureblood. Are you okay, Blaise? Looks like you got something stuck in your throat."
Blaise cleared her throat. "Neville's a friend. He's very nice."
"Whatever," Millicent shrugged. Blaise rubbed at her temple.
"You know who was really pathetic?" Pansy smirked. "That Potter. Didn't know a single bloody answer in Potions. Snape was right. Celebrity isn't everything."
Blaise rolled her eyes. "I don't think Potter's walking around telling everyone who he is," she said as Pansy and Millicent exchanged raised brows. "He looks uncomfortable about the whole thing actually. It's people like Malfoy who heckle him in the halls that draw the attention to him."
"Got a soft spot for Potter, have you, Zabini?" Pansy narrowed her eyes.
"No, I don't," she replied, figuring she had enough labels plastered on her arse, what more if she's a Potter fan. Just then, Elle stood from her seat.
"First years, I reckon your flying classes are this afternoon? Just to remind you that the school has strict rules about first years and broomsticks. The only brooms you'll be using on the field are the ones that the school provided you. Keep that in mind and we'll be just fine." She walked away with the other 7th years. A fork scraped loudly on someone's plate.
"That's rubbish!" Blaise heard Malfoy groan from down the table. "I've been flying on my family's estate for years. I don't see why 1st years can't bring their own brooms. I've asked my father to-"
"Blah, blah, blah," Blaise drawled pushing her plate away and standing from table.
"Where're you scurrying off to, Zabini?" Malfoy called.
Blaise sighed loudly. Why is it, even when's he's absorbed in the topic of himself, he still sees her when she tries to make an exit? She didn't answer him and instead made her way for the Entrance Hall.
"See you in Madame Hooch's class!" Millicent called behind her.
Blaise cringed at the thought. There's no way she'll put herself out there just to splatter her arse on the ground. She'd only be adding fuel for Malfoy to tease her and mess with her head.
She dragged her feet to the library. She just sat at a table with a book titled Quidditch Through the Ages when someone pulled a chair beside her.
"Hi, Blaise. What're you reading?" Blaise looked up and broke into a relieved smile.
"Hi, Oliver. I'm not really reading. I just needed an excuse to sit here. How're you?"
"All right, I guess. Got Charms in a few minutes. The team's still looking for a Seeker. Feel a bit pressured. McGonagall's been harping on about last year's match. We were slaughtered." He smiled as he raked his hand through his hair.
"Wish I could help … but you know I'm pretty useless." She shrugged. Oliver chuckled.
"Err … have you talked to Cedric yet? He mentioned that he's been trying to meet up with you but you keep slipping away." Blaise suddenly fascinated herself with the book's worn cover. "Uh, Blaise?"
"I've been busy," she mumbled.
"In your first week?" Oliver mused. He pulled the book away. "Blaise, I know how much it meant for you to be sorted with Cedric. He was pretty concerned that you might be disappointed if you weren't. That's why he spoke with us in the other houses. He really cares about you and wants you to have fun in this school. I admit we all were pretty shocked that you were sorted where you were. But no one thinks you're any different for being in Slythe-"
"Don't say it." Blaise bit her lip. It was bad enough hearing it in her head; she didn't need it said aloud. Oliver leaned back in his seat.
"Elle's my cousin. She may look tough, but she's good people. She'll look out for you."
She stood from her table. "I'm sorry. I … I'm going to be late for my class."
Blaise felt horrible walking out on Oliver like that. He meant well. She suddenly felt foolish. This weekend, I'll meet with Cedric, she told herself. She realised she had unwittingly created a drama between the two of them. He's sending her notes, chasing after her in the halls. No wonder the girls hated her. It looked like she was playing hard to get. Grossness, Blaise gagged.
When Blaise reached the field, everyone was standing beside their brooms. She sneaked into line as Hooch barked instructions. Everyone looked eager for this lesson. Only Neville seemed to mirror her anxiety. Her stomach twisted into a knot. She'd make a mockery of herself in front of both Slytherin and Gryffindor.
She nervously glanced at the students in front of her. She saw Harry Potter's broom lift right to his hands. Blaise stared at her own broom. Her hands remained inside her pockets. The only way she could get out of this is if she played sick. She could say she was allergic to broomsticks and infect herself with Pickleworm sap. Or maybe she should just whack Malfoy over the head with her broom … Madame Hooch would be upset, but, seriously, could she blame Blaise? It's Malfoy.
"Come back, boy!" Madame Hooch suddenly shouted. Blaise tore herself from her thoughts to see Neville's terrified expression seconds before he dropped twenty feet to the ground. She cupped her hand over her mouth, muffling her screech. Madame Hooch sped to his crumpled figure as everyone crowded around nervously.
"Broken wrist," she said grimly. She helped him up slowly. Relief swept over Blaise when she heard Neville squeak in pain. At least, he's alive. Madame Hooch turned sharply to the rest of the dumbstruck class.
"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.'" She walked away with Neville hobbling beside her. Blaise made a mental note to send Neville some Fizzing Whizbees for a speedy recovery. Well-wishing from the guilty, better his arse than hers. When Madam Hooch returned, Blaise would have the Pickleworm sap ready and she can glide out of here as well … with her feet planted firmly on the ground.
Blaise jumped at a sudden bark of laughter.
"Did you see his face, the great lump?!" Malfoy hooted, wiping tears from his eyes. His friends joined him. Blaise narrowed her eyes.
"That's it," she hissed under her breath and reached for her wand. Suddenly Malfoy spotted something on the grass.
"It's that stupid thing Longbottom's Gran sent him." He held it dingily in his hand. A crooked grin on his face. Blaise read his intentions clearly. Forget magic, I'm tackling this bugger down, she seethed and stepped forward.
"Give that here, Malfoy," a quiet voice said. Blaise stopped in her tracks. As did everyone else around her. Her eyes rounded on who spoke. It wasn't every day she heard someone, aside from herself, talk back to Malfoy. She couldn't help grinning when she saw Harry Potter staring at Malfoy with a glint in his eye.
Malfoy tossed the ball lightly catching it back deftly in his hand. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find – how about – up a tree?"
"Give it here!" Harry yelled. Blaise's eyebrow shot straight up the same time Malfoy did, broomstick and all. He taunted Harry to fly up and retrieve the Remembrall. Blaise wasn't surprised to see Harry grab his broom. The kid's got balls, she mused.
"NO!" Hermione Granger shouted. "Madam Hooch told us not to move-"
Blaise scoffed loudly, suddenly reminded of a certain whiny Weasley. Her eyes darted back to Potter. It seemed everyone held his or her breath waiting for his next move. The flash in Potter's eyes reminded Blaise of something she couldn't place … Oh, heck, probably just her own stubbornness.
"Go for it," she said under her breath. He did. Blaze let out a whoop that blended perfectly with Ron Weasley's. The look on Malfoy's face was priceless. Even Pansy looked impressed with Potter's sharp about-face. But when he dived … Blaise couldn't believe it. She never saw Cedric, the Weasley's -- Hell, she has never seen anyone fly like that. The boy was a natural.
He caught the ball and landed on the grass in a light jog, when, from nowhere, Professor McGonagall ran onto the field screaming her head off. Blaise's heart dropped. She remembered Madame Hooch's warning. But it's ridiculous to expel someone for this. Surely, the Headmaster wouldn't let that happen.
Malfoy burst into laughter once again as soon as the professor dragged Harry off the field, much to his housemates' dismay.
"So much for the Boy Who Lived!" Malfoy crowed. "Soon'll he be known as the Boy Who Was Expelled After a Bloody Week." Crabbe and Goyle chuckled behind him. Blaise turned to him with a smirk on her face.
"Shouldn't that be the Boy Who Whipped Your Arse? Admit it, Malfoy. Potter had you shitting in your knickers. You couldn't fly like that even if you had your father buy the talent for you." Malfoy's face turned a blotchy pink while Ron laughed loudly behind Blaise.
"I didn't see you jumping on your broom, Zabini," Pansy snapped. "You were sweating bullets before Longbottom crashed and burned five minutes ago." Pansy's name suddenly changed lists.
Blaise simply shrugged. "I don't pretend I can fly as well as anyone here. But hell, even you have to admit Potter's got talent." The other Slytherins conceded, including Crabbe and Goyle to Malfoy's disgust.
"Class!" Madame Hooch called jogging towards them. "I've just spoken with Madame Pomfrey and Mr. Longbottom will be fine in a few hours. In the meantime, I've decided to check the rest of these brooms. Some might have gone rogue over the break. We'll meet again same time next week … Are we all still here?" She looked around, determining head count. Malfoy stepped forward.
"Actually-"
"Silencio!" Blaise muttered pointing her wand at his throat. He coughed.
"What was that?" Madam Hooch turned. "I lost my count. But I think we're all still here, yes?"
"Yeah," Ron said innocently. Hermione looked scandalized, as did Pansy but neither girl spoke. Malfoy coughed louder. Madame Hooch dismissed the class. Blaise trotted away, before Malfoy could figure out who knocked his voice out.
Blaise just set her foot into the pathway leading to the castle's rose garden when someone yanked at her robes. Millicent lightly spun Blaise around to face Pansy.
"All right. Undo it, Zabini." She snapped.
"Undo what?" They turned around to find Crabbe and Goyle scratching their heads as they tried to interpret their leader's gestures.
"I know you placed that charm on Draco," Pansy said. Her hazel eyes flashed gold. "I don't know what game you're playing. But you shouldn't embarrass or belittle any of your mates in front of the other houses." Blaise rolled her eyes. But Elle's words rang in her head. Make nice.
"I wasn't embarrassing him. I was keeping his mouth shut."
"What for? So you can cover up for Potter?!"
Blaise answered calmly, "Don't be stupid, Pansy. If Malfoy told on Potter, don't you think he'll wind up incriminating himself as well?" Pansy's lip trembled. "If you rat on Potter, you can't expect his housemates to keep their mouth shut, do you?"
Pansy's mouth opened and closed like a chicken's arse. She still hadn't formed any intelligible sounds when Malfoy stormed over to the girls. Glaring pointedly at Blaise, he gestured at his throat. She removed the charm with a yawn.
"You little-" He sputtered.
"It was for your own good, Malfoy," Millicent said, surprising everyone including herself. Malfoy rolled his eyes and leered close to Blaise's face.
"Who's side are you on, Zabini?" He hissed. Blaise struck her nose right next to his.
"Whatever side you're not on."
His jaw tensed. "My father's told me many things about your family, Zabini. He said being a Zabini meant you had no wizard pride. If you recognized your true roots, you'd know … we're cut from the same mold. You may not be on my side, but keep in mind you're in Slytherin … that means no one else in this school is on your side either."
Malfoy smirked at the uneasiness that flashed over Blaise's eyes, and walked away with his friends. With lingering looks, Pansy and Millicent followed him leaving Blaise alone in the corridor.
If there was any truth to what he said, Blaise wasn't about to admit to it. She spun on her heel and stomped through the halls. She pushed past the crowds of students and marched straight into the library. She approached a group donning the yellow and black badges on their robes. They looked up at her warily as she cleared her throat for their attention.
"Yes? Can we help you?" A girl asked stiffly eying the snake on Blaise's robes. Blaise crossed her arms.
"Yeah … have any of you seen Cedric Diggory?"
After some thought, the girl replied, "No." Blaise turned away in disgust. A blonde head peeked around the corner of the Transfiguration aisle.
"Blaze?" She looked up and broke into a smile. Cedric approached her and wrapped an arm over her shoulders. The group at the table exchanged stunned looks.
"You know this girl, Cedric?" One of them asked.
"Of course," he said with a look that dared the group to object. He steered Blaise out the library. They headed out the entrance hall and down the castle's front steps. Once they were out, he turned to her, lifting her chin to him. "So … want to talk about it?"
"Yeah. It's been rough." Blaise sighed as they sat on the bottom step. She rested her head on his shoulder.
"I can imagine." He squeezed her shoulder. "I'm still here, kid. I said no matter what house you're in. I meant that." Blaise let him hug her closer to him.
"I believe you, Ced." She stared at the laces of her boots. "And you need to believe me when I tell you I'll be okay." She smiled sheepishly at him. "You don't have to baby-sit me anymore. I can take care of myself now."
He sighed and ruffled her hair. This always annoyed her in a cute way.
"Guess the baby chick has to fly out the nest some time," he muttered.
"Yeah, out the nest," she echoed. She hooked her arm around Cedric's shoulders. "I'll be okay. No worries, Ced." She told herself Hogwarts would be her new home. Things didn't go that way she planned … but she'll make it her home.
Safe for Now
The holidays rolled by quickly and not without incident. Every shocking, terrifying, death-defying incident that occurred from the 1st Quidditch game to a troll invasion had Harry Potter's name all over it. The attention made Malfoy's jealousy even more obvious. It boosted the morale of Gryffindor. And it had Blaise shivering in the courtyard facing the Quidditch Pit.
This courtyard was Blaise's spot. From here, one could see the Quidditch Pit on the East and the lake that they crossed the first day on the West. Not a lot of people wandered to this part of the castle. The freezing (even on the hottest days), high winds could intimidate the burliest of folk, while the altitude of this suspended extension made many light-headed. But since Blaise spent a lot of her time in Villa Montverde dangling her feet off a ledge with more than a hundred-foot drop, she felt right at home.
The pit was empty today, while everyone prepared for the holiday break. Blaise already had her stuff packed. She had stepped out of the Slytherin chamber for some fresh air. But mostly she wanted to escape the chill her roommates have given her since the broom incident. She closed her eyes against the wind, imagining herself standing on the edge of the cliff in Monteverde, feeling somewhat at peace.
The wind pulled roughly at her cloak. Snow came to the school in flurries, covering the grounds in a white blanket. Blaise leaned over the ledge, letting her hair swing over the boundary. She checked her watch. She had two hours until she could board the train. She made her way back to her dormitory.
Blaise just stepped into the Great Hall when she bumped into Number 2 on her To be Hexed list.
Hannah Abbot rounded her eyes as she elbowed the other students in her group. They stared at Blaise with more blankness than usual.
"What now, Abbot?" Blaise snapped. "What cluelessness are you regurgitating this time?"
Hannah smiled at her sweetly. "Have you read the Daily Prophet recently? Someone you know had a special mention in Rita Skeeter's column."
"I don't read gossip, especially gossip yanked out of someone's arse," Blaise sighed narrowing her eyes.
"You don't know?" She blinked her large, dumb eyes. "But I suppose your folks didn't tell you. My mum always said they were a shifty duo."
Blaise stepped right up to Hannah as the kids shrank from her shadow. "Don't you ever insult my family, Abbot. Unless you want to join Moaning Myrtle in the girl's toilet upstairs."
Hannah flipped a pigtail over her shoulder. "Before you make a bigger fool of yourself, Zabini, I suggest you shut up and read this." She shoved some parchment into her hand. Blaise twisted it in her hands. She had no idea what Abbot meant, but she had a feeling it wasn't good news. She reluctantly opened the parchment, ignored the front-page headline about some investigation at Gringotts, and turned to the gossip section.
ROGUE AUROR RETURNS AFTER 10-YEAR EXILE
A huge cover-up in the Ministry that dates back to December 21st, 1982 has been uncovered writes Rita Skeeter.
It involved the near-escape of You-Know-Who's right-hand man, Sirius Black. Black was the horrible murderer of over a dozen muggles and the wizard Peter Pettigrew. The Daily Prophet also has information pointing that Black was the front man for the Dark Lord's Death-Eaters, a group allegedly involved in the slayings of prominent families such as the McKinnon's, Prewett's, and Bone's. To this reporter's mind, any act made to release such a foul creature into the community should be sentenced with the most extreme punishment.
This was not the case on December 21st, 1982. An Auror masterminded Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban prison. Praise to the guards that caught this fiend. That Auror has since been banished from the mainland, masquerading as a law-abiding recluse, and that Auror is none other than Rhonda Zabini.
Her exile ends December 21st of this year. Her defense was temporary insanity. But the fact that her son and daughter-in-law were questioned at one point concerning the Longbottom's, has this reporter of The Daily Prophet speculating that the Ministry reopen this case and sentence a steeper punishment to hearten the victims of this sinister Dark Wizard family.
Rhonda Zabini almost managed the biggest double-cross since Black. But her influence and power might've made the court avert their gaze (former council leader Bartemis Crouch was unavailable for comment). Her return could mark the rebirth of a new Dark Era. If the Ministry will act, they must act now.
"Haven't you wondered why your Gran never that left that stupid island? She's a traitor."
Blaise threw the crumpled parchment at Hannah's face. "Go to hell."
"You would now that, Zabini!" Hannah called after Blaise stormed away. "Hell's where slime like your family belong!"
Blaise stumbled into the Entrance Hall. Her chest felt tight, her lips had gone numb. She really wanted to kill Abbot now. Was this a joke? Did the girl conspire with Malfoy or Skeeter to pull this one on her? No, Malfoy wouldn't trouble himself this much to get back at her.
She could only think of one person to talk to … Cedric. She knew he'd be on her side. He knew Oma. Oma loved him. Oma would never do anything that would hurt Susan's or Neville's family. Her folks would never betray anyone …
She just stepped up to the Suit of Armor that led to the secret passageway of the Hufflepuff House. Someone suddenly grabbed Blaise's cloak sending her stumbling backwards to the wall.
"Oh no you don't," a 3rd year named Crystal Fowler hissed, jabbing Blaise's chest. "I saw that article on your family. We don't want your filth in our House. Besides, Bones read the article too. She's too upset to even talk about it."
Blaise batted the girl's hand away as more Hufflepuff's crowded around them.
"It's not true! You can't prove anything! My Oma would never-"
"Your family is the worst kind. Pretending to be nice, but really stabbing us in the back." Hannah scoffed.
"You're the one who gossips about everyone, Abbot. You wouldn't know tact if it shagged you in the nostril!" Blaise blurted. The crowd closed in on her. She felt the same panic she had in St. Bridget's.
"Stop the delusion, Zabini. You're the bad egg here. You were never cut out for Hufflepuff or any other house. So stay away from us. You're a Slytherin. And you always will be."
Blaise trembled with the same fury she felt when the Death-Eater stood over her. "I want to talk to Cedric! You have no right to-"
"Get out of here! Take your pureblood arse back to the dungeons where you belong!" Another girl yelled, scratching Blaise's cheek. Blaise pushed her away and pulled out her wand.
A sudden flash of green sparks lighted the corridor. "Back off her," a voice said quietly. The kids scrambled to the sides of the hall. Elle stepped forward.
"Stay out of this, Wood," Crystal snapped. "If Zabini wants to enter our house, we have every right to stop her."
Elle smiled at the girl. A smile that sharks would have. "Fight with her and you fight with Slytherin."
"The two of you can't fight us all, Wood. Besides, being the Head Girl, you should know magic isn't allowed in the halls."
"Look around you, Fowler," Elle yawned. "If you haven't noticed, everyone's heading for the platform. A little scuffle like this will go by unnoticed." She twirled her wand and winked at Blaise. "Zabini and I have the skills to kick all your arses and then some."
The Hufflepuffs exchanged uncertain glances when another Slytherin stumbled upon the stand off.
"What've we here?" Malfoy sneered. He saw Elle, Blaise and about ten Hufflepuffs around them. To Blaise's surprise he pulled out his own wand and aimed it at a boy's heart. "I could use target practice," he smiled.
Hannah's face grew pale, as did the others. They did outnumber the Slytherin's, but these three weren't the ones a wizard would want to duel with.
"Just stay away from us, Zabini!" She stammered as she ducked behind the Suit of Armor. The rest followed, disappearing quickly before Blaise could get a hand on them. She turned to Elle and Malfoy. Both had smug expressions on their face.
"Thanks," Blaise said quietly. "You didn't have to …" Elle waved her hand.
"You've earned the House too many points for me to look the other way, Zabini," she drawled. Blaise stared at her feet. "But you're welcome. And I meant what I said. Know who your allies are, Blaise." She turned away, with her cloak billowing around her.
Malfoy cleared his throat. Blaise approached him and extended her hand. "Thank you, Malfoy. You didn't have to but you did."
"Wood's right, Zabini. We'll win the House Cup this year, no contest," he said. His voice sounded strained. He must have a hard time talking without saying something offensive. He stared keenly at Blaise. "Your folks … they didn't tell you anything, did you?"
Blaise bit her lip. "No," she finally said. "And all this time, I thought we were the good guys."
She waited for him to laugh at her. To mock her. Instead, he cursed under his breath.
"I bully my folks to tell me the truth," he said quietly. "I can't be a Malfoy not knowing exactly who I am … I hate NOT knowing. Because there's always someone around who'll spring the truth on you and use it to pull your strings. You have the right to know everything. Even the things you find shameful. Your folks owe you an explanation." He still hadn't released her hand.
"I have to ask, Malfoy … Is it … Is it true? I mean, your father would know since he …" She sighed, her wand trembled in her hand.
Malfoy released her hand. "Come on, Zabini. It's not as bad as you may think. People change. Stop moping, or I'll try my Slug-Belch hex on you." He smiled when he said this. Suddenly, he didn't look so pinch-faced. He actually was sort of cute.
She grinned back, not knowing what effect it had on his senses. "Okay, I'll stop moping. You have a good holiday then, Malfoy. And … you can call me Blaise."
He flinched but nodded back warmly. "You too … Blaise. And the name's Draco."
He walked briskly down the corridor. Blaise watched him quietly. Dad was right … the children of Slytherin weren't their folks. They were capable of walking down a different road. Neither said it, but they had called a truce. Both working together to help their house. Maybe not through the same means, but both wanted the same thing … Respect.
Blaise smiled to herself. Draco Malfoy just upgraded himself to her Safe for Now list.
She glanced back at the Suit of Armor. But was Susan really upset? Blaise decided to give her friends some time to digest this. But if Skeeter's article was true, it meant the Zabini's were Voldemort supporters. She'd have more in common with Draco and Pansy. It meant she really did belong in Slytherin. It meant … she was the bad guy.
Right then … Blaise didn't care. She strutted down the corridor, holding her head high. She came to this school knowing every curse, every hex jinx, every hex to maim, torment, or vanquish someone. She learned for the soul reason to protect herself, her family, her loved ones. If that made her a Dark Wizard, then so be it. If that sorted her into Slytherin, so be it.
She sorely recalled the hateful things the kids said to her. Both in this school and in St. Bridget's. She'll never get her wish for anonymity. She'll never blend in the middle. But … Blaise didn't want that anymore.
"We'll see who's filth," she mumbled to herself. "I'll seize that House Cup if it's the last thing I do. If people hate me now, I'll make them hate me more. I'll show them. I'll bloody show them all."
Whatever reservations Blaise had about her truce with Draco, they quickly dissolved when she saw him standing at the platform waiting to board the train back to their homes.
"All right there, Blaise?" He asked as Crabbe and Goyle helped with her luggage. She nodded with a small smile. Pansy and Millicent greeted her shyly.
"I read that article Skeeter wrote," Millicent ventured. "She had no business exposing that. She's just causing a ruckus."
"Yeah, Blaise," Pansy said. "My father said Skeeter's desperate for a beat. The new reporter's killing her, like covering the Gringotts' story before she did, interviewing Fudge and Lockhart. Not many people read Skeeter's stuff nowadays."
"Thanks," Blaise smiled. "I have to talk to my family about it though. If it's true or not … what can I do, right? I can't disown them."
Millicent snickered. "You could threaten the buggers with it. Tell them you'll send your Gran after them. She'd have Black join in on the fun."
"That's pretty twisted, but not a bad idea," Blaise drawled. They continued talking. The girls bashed the Hufflepuff's, praised Draco and Elle, and vowed to earn more points for their house after their breaks. Blaise didn't bother looking around for Cedric or Susan. She still wanted them to have their space.
She joined her dorm mates in one cabin, while Draco went in the cabin next to theirs. The train had traveled about ten minutes when someone knocked on the door. Blaise opened it cautiously, but stepped aside when she saw who it was.
"Blaise!" Morag sniffed locking the other girl in a tight embrace. "Oh, it's just horrible what Skeeter did! I mean it's your grandmother! There should be a law against cruelty to the elderly!"
"There is one, stupid," Millicent snorted as Morag plopped herself on the seat next to Blaise. "Excuse me, MacDougal, but I don't think anyone invited you here." Morag rolled her eyes.
"Oh shut up, Mill. Stop pretending you don't know me. Or I swear on our old Aunt Gildy's grave, I'll chuck your Barbie dolls in our trash compactor."
Millicent's face paled as Blaise snickered into her robes. "You wouldn't dare! You promised you'd keep them safe!" Blaise's laughter grew louder as Pansy joined her.
"Then stop pretending we're not cousins, you berk!" Morag crowed jumping onto Mill's lap and covering the Slytherin with a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Millicent groaned but couldn't help snickering at her cousin's actions.
"It's funny though," Pansy sighed, helping herself to a Chocolate Frog. "Morag wanted to be sorted into Slytherin but she got Ravenclaw, while you, Blaise, wanted to be sorted anywhere but Slytherin."
"Well, I don't think that anymore," Blaise sighed. All three girls raised their brows at her. "I'm serious. So we don't make nice with everyone. Why should we? It's not like everyone's nice to us."
"She's gone over to the Dark Side," Millicent snickered. They all laughed.
"Well, considering whatever shady past my family has, I think I've been on it. I just didn't know." Blaise smirked. "But I tell you … Christmas dinner's going to be very interesting this year."
Christmas Dinner at the Manor
Blaise stood beside a pillar waiting for Rusty. She had ducked out of sight as Susan and Cedric left the train. She really wanted to get home and talk to her family before facing anyone else.
"Hey, Blaise!"
Draco came up to her and handed her a slip of paper.
"It's my address," he said quickly. His face seemed a little pink. "If anyone can fix a press-related mess, my father can. He can also create one if you know what I mean. Send us an owl."
Blaise took the parchment. "Why are you doing this, Draco? I mean … we didn't get off on the right foot in the beginning." He shrugged.
"I can't choose my family, but I can choose my friends," he mumbled staring at the ground. "I didn't mean to snap at Bones on the train. And I didn't mean to make an enemy of you. I was just in a foul mood that day." He leaned on the pillar beside her. It looked like he had to wait for his ride as well.
"Can I ask what got you in a foul mood that day? We're talking about our first day at wizarding school. I was ready to burst."
"Well, it's nothing really. I … I sort of tried to make a friend out of Potter and he gave me the cold shoulder." His ears turned bright pink. Blaise found it attractive.
"Potter … snubbed you?" She wrinkled her nose. "Alright. What exactly did you say?"
"Nothing," he snorted with a shrug. "He said he could make his own friends or something of that sort. Well, if he wants to stay friends with Weasley then I say let the arse be."
"Hmm … I didn't know Potter was such a snob," Blaise said aloud, though she had the feeling Draco didn't present himself as Mr. Congeniality. "But he does get himself into situations that draw attention to him."
"He's hungry for it. Acts like he's Saint Potter. Can't do anything wrong. Yet, he's just as big an idiot as Goyle or Crabbe can be."
Blaise glanced at him from the corner of his eye. She had the feeling that Harry stole some of Draco's thunder. She knew all about the charm of the Malfoy's. They were all about garnering as much power as they can, but they did it with a certain finesse. Something like … a Dark Wizard's Gentleman. She had a feeling that if Harry wasn't in Hogwarts, Draco would have a public profile similar to his. Except Draco would be known as the popular, charming, snotty pureblood.
"There's my driver," he said suddenly. A grim-looking man dressed in black approached them. He bowed before Draco and took his luggage. Draco turned to Blaise.
"Have a happy Christmas, Blaise."
"You too, Draco. See you next year." She winked. He grinned and turned away.
"Ready to go, Blaise?" Rusty called from behind. Blaise took a deep breath and nodded. She followed the elf to their carriage. And they headed back to Creer Upon Libby.
The table had been set. The finest china lay on the maroon velvet placemats. The silverware lined beside the blue-green china, along with greenish crystal goblets. Blaise sat to her father's right. She donned a black turtleneck sweater with a blue plaid skirt. Her parents dressed in their evening best as well. Oma sat on the other end of the table, with her green silk dress and a diamond-crusted tiara. Rusty sat beside Blaise.
Blaise didn't want to bombard everyone with questions right away. But she did let it slip she read the article. To her relief, Oma acknowledged it. She said they'd talk about it during dessert. Blaise dove into her meal with more gusto after that. The tension melted away from her as her parents discussed their projects at work.
Mama looked serene. For some reason, Blaise thought this was funny. He dad looked genuinely happy to be there. Oma looked ready to jump on the table and do the La Bamba. Blaise stared at her goblet. I think Yulee poured me the wrong drink, she thought with a goofy smile on her face. Damn, she loved that elf.
But her giddiness subsided by the time dessert was served. Her father cleared his throat as Vanessa pulled at her collar.
"Blaise, you mentioned the article in the Daily Prophet. We want to talk to you about that." He sighed scratching the stubble on his chin. "You see, there's some truth to it. But there's plenty left out."
Blaise stared at her plate of cheesecake. "So … we are Voldemort supporters?" Oma cleared her throat. She lifted her eyes off her plate and smiled nervously at her grandmother.
"Blaise, what we will tell you now must never leave this table. There's a lot of responsibility with this information. Your parents initially objected to this, but I feel you're intelligent enough and capable of being discreet." Blaise nodded with widened eyes. Oma smiled. "But if you'd prefer a simpler truth-"
"I have a right to know everything," Blaise said quickly. Van took a long sip from her goblet. "I mean … I don't want some dodgy folk like Skeeter taking advantage of my ignorance."
"That is true," Papa mumbled. Mama nodded slowly. Blaise turned expectantly to Oma.
"Well, Blaise … the truth is I did try to help Sirius Black escape Azkaban. But I never served Voldemort."
Blaise frowned. "Why did you do it then?"
Oma sighed. "Sirius was my best friend, Divina's nephew. She didn't have any children and she doted on Sirius. She was killed with her husband by Voldemort and his minions," she said in a subdued voice. "When Sirius had been blamed for the Potter's deaths, I admit … I had a breakdown. Even though all the evidence seemed to point that Sirius was guilty, I had it stuck in my head he was innocent. He was good kid." She blew her nose on her napkin.
"A breakdown?" Blaise echoed.
"Rhonda went crazy," Rusty sighed. "Rusty tried to stop her, but Rhonda bind him."
"Padre convinced Crouch to let her off easy," Papa explained. "Crouch seemed to accept the explanation that everyone deals with grief differently. Either that or he had lost some steam after he sentenced his own son to death."
"Miserable man," Mama muttered, gesturing for a refill.
Blaise bit her lip. "Ma, Pa … What about Skeeter's allegations about you?"
"That I wasn't pleased about," Oma said frowning down at her plate. Her parents exchanged glances. Mama looked exceptionally pale.
Papa cleared his throat. "Blaise … the truth is … your mother and I spied-"
"You spied for Voldemort?!" Blaise gasped. It sounded okay to stomach in theory, but to hear it said aloud … in an actual voice. She felt ill.
"We spied for the Order of the Phoenix," Papa finished. He smiled gently at the blank look on Blaise's face. "It was a group that worked against the Dark Lord."
"We pretended to be Voldemort's allies," Mama suddenly spoke. "We spied for him, gave him credible information approved by the Order to make us look legit. Your father supplied the Order with information about the activities abroad, while I had direct correspondence with several Death-Eaters. I had at one time masqueraded as a Death-Eater."
Vanessa bit her lip and took another sip from her goblet. She continued, "Your father and I were responsible for exposing many Death-Eaters. We gave the Aurors coordinates, tried to forewarn our allies as quickly as we could. We were the best spies in the Order. Then … a mole exposed us to Voldemort. We had to desist. And we became useless to both sides."
Papa leaned forward in his chair. "You see, Blaise, our mission was to find who was the real spy against the Order. Find that spy before our cover was blown. But we weren't successful. Because of that, some people in the Order didn't trust us. Some suspected that we were the spies. We got little support from people. Only Padre's word kept us from persecution."
Vanessa stared at her hands. "Even though we could no longer leak information into the Order, we still – I still – wanted to help. I offered the Longbottom's to be their Secret-Keeper. It was the wrong thing to do. I failed worst of all." Papa reached for her hand.
"No, Van. Don't say it. It's not your fault." Van shook her head.
"Blaise … I did give information that harmed the Longbottom's. I told a group of Death-Eaters where they were. I revealed their hiding place."
"Van, dear, stop blaming yourself." Oma sighed. She reached for Blaise's hand. "Sweetie, your parents are the most loyal and trustworthy people I know. These two people would rather die than sell out a friend. Vanessa was the Longbottom's Secret-Keeper, but the information had been … forced … out of her. She had only enough time to warn the Longbottom's what had happened. And Frank and Alice sent their son to Frank's mother's house. They had enough time to do that and that alone."
Blaise read the expression on Vanessa's face. She saw a swirl of emotions pass from rage, fear, and pain. She didn't have to imagine how the information had been forced out of her. She felt angry for her mum. Blaise saw the flash of the Death-Eater's perverse smile. She remembered Vanessa clawing at his face. And Blaise felt the frustration her mum harbored. She finally understood why that Death-Eater visited them that day.
"It's not your fault, Mama," Blaise said quietly.
"I'm never strong enough," her mum murmured. Blaise stared at her hands.
"Can I ask something?" She began. "Papa, why do you still teach at Durmstang?" Everyone looked surprised at the question. Zon cleared his throat. He looked ready to give a lecture.
"Well … after Voldemort disappeared, I had been approached by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The Aurors needed me in weed out the rest of Voldemort's supporters, before any started their own campaign to wreak havoc to the community." He frowned. "Many who knew we were spies have either died or are in Azkaban now. What I do now is send profiles on potential troublemakers to the Ministries. Durmstang teaches their students Dark Magic to learn how to battle it. But I can't deny that there are students in that school who use that knowledge questionably."
"Can't you monitor these people from here?" She asked.
"No. I'm the best man to have, Blaise. I speak several languages and I directly correspond to the Dark Force Defense Leagues on Madrid, Paris, London, and Berlin. Plus, there's no other member of the Order stationed in Durmstang. And the only other qualified member would be your mum."
"But Voldemort's gone now, right? The Order's not active anymore."
"Blaise," Oma began bracingly. "You need to understand that the Order of the Phoenix is more than an organization that fought Voldemort. It's over a thousand years old. And it was created, some say, to vanquish the first Dark Lord, Salazar Slytherin. His symbol was the snake, a symbol of immortality and transformation. The story goes that when the other three founders vanquished Slytherin, he vowed his legacy would live on. He promised another like him would rise. In response to this, Gryffindor established the Order. The mission of the Order is to assist wizards in vanquishing the Dark Lord of their time."
"Dark Lord of their time?" Blaise wrinkled her brow. "You mean even if you defeat the Dark Lord, he keeps coming back?" Oma nodded.
"Over fifty years ago, Dumbledore defeated the Dark Lord Grindelwald. Dumbledore was also a member of the Order. After he defeated Grindelwald, he inherited the Order, became the leader. And the next wizard to vanquish the Dark Lord will inherit Order leadership and so on."
"But why does the Dark Lord keep coming back?"
"You can't get rid of all the evil in this world, sweetie. And evil is what all the Dark Lords thrive on. But there's always a balance. With each Dark Lord, there's a hero born to defeat that Dark Lord. That's why the Order of the Phoenix was created. The Phoenix is constantly reborn, a symbol of immortality and power. As long as there's a Dark Lord, the Order will be there."
"Who's the next Dark Lord then?" Blaise asked breathlessly. "Can I join the Order?"
Her father chuckled in spite of himself, while her mum looked ready to faint at the table. Oma took a long sip from her goblet. Rusty turned to Blaise and gave her the thumbs up sign. At least, one person seemed to think she was Order material.
Papa said, "As far as we know, Voldemort was the last Dark Lord. Usually a Dark Lord comes from a Purebred family. Voldemort was an exception because his ancestors were exceptional Dark Wizards. There are some Dark Wizards out there, but no one has exhibited the same power like Voldemort or the previous Dark Lords. And none are as keen."
"Yes," Vanessa sighed. "I think it's safe to say that Harry Potter was our savior. He defeated the last of the great Dark lords. It came at a price, but this Calm has to be worth it."
"As for you joining the Order," Zon said carefully. "I think since your ma and I are members and Oma is 2nd Lieutenant, you already are an honorary member. But I honestly hope that there'll never be a reason to gather the old gang again."
"Yeah, I guess," Blaise sighed. She rubbed her neck tiredly.
"I hope this hasn't overwhelmed you, sweetie." Oma eyed Blaise closely.
"No … actually it hasn't. I think everything you've told me is good news. I came to the table imagining we're the foulest of all beings. But we're not. We're a family of spies. Of secret-keepers. I said I wanted to know everything. And I'm glad I do now." Blaise smiled shyly at the adults.
"Someone told me that being a Zabini meant I had no wizard pride. And I started to believe it for a while. Now I know what it really means to be in this family. And … I'm very proud."
Under the Oak Tree
The adults left to have a midnight cup of tea with Oma's friends. Rusty lingered in the back porch, smoking a pipe of Angelwort. Blaise wrapped her cloak tighter as she crossed the bridge over the frozen creek and ventured into the orchard. She passed several snow-capped pines until she reached a great Oak. The tree would normally have rich green leaves spread over it, providing a nice shady place for Blaise to rest. But the leaves had since shed leaving the tree bare save for the snow and ice covering its thick braches.
Blaise brushed off some snow off a high branch and hopped onto it. She sat there holding a lantern Rusty charmed for her to spread warmth with its light. After the ice thawed around her, she stretched along a thick branch and used her cloak for a pillow. Her breath still came out it vapory puffs, but the lantern kept her comfortable.
She stared at the winter sky. She loved how it wasn't a complete black. She could see slight patches of midnight blue and burned indigo spanning above her, making the stars twinkle like the sparks from her wand. It helped her reflect on what she heard tonight and how it would play into her future.
Footsteps approached. She immediately pinched a bead in her fingers, although she doubted anyone sinister would get past Rusty.
"Saw the light from my room," Cedric said climbing to a branch next to her. "You're up late." He opened a canister and the scent of cocoa crept to her nose. "Want some?"
"Of course," she said sitting up. "My folks went with Oma to visit some of her friends."
"She's happy to be back in the mainland then," Cedric said. They sipped quietly on their cocoa. Blaise didn't know how to explain things to him without giving away too much information.
"I head what Fowler tried to do," he said suddenly. "I'm sorry about that. They didn't mess with you too much, did they?"
"No … I had back up." Blaise took another sip. Cedric did as well. After a couple more seconds, she swore loudly. "Aren't you going to ask me about that blasted article?!" He snorted into his mug.
"Blaise," he drawled out. "Don't you have any faith in me? I love Oma. I would never believe she'd do anything malicious. That's like saying Snape likes the color pink."
"But …" She egged on.
"Fine!" He sighed. "But I did ask my folks about it. Mum set me straight."
"Well … it's all good then." She sighed.
"Susan will be fine, Blaise. What upset her was that Skeeter wrote such things about Oma. I mean anyone who knows your grandma knows how cool she is. My dad said Oma should sue her or something."
"Nah. It would only give Skeeter the attention she's badgering for."
"Well, it's just a good thing that burglary at Gringotts is getting all the attention. Even if nothing was stolen." He bit his lip. "Blaise … I'm really worried about you. From what Oliver told me … my house mates said some pretty nasty things. If Elle hadn't stumbled upon you-"
"I would've killed them all," Blaise said evenly. Cedric looked taken aback.
"You don't mean that."
"Maybe I do. Cedric, Look. I have a temper. I'm bound to break one day. And sometimes that's all I want to do. I think to myself, if I hear one more bugger offend me or my family, I'll do it." Cedric looked hurt by her words, but she continued. "You and I have walked two very different paths. People like you. They don't have to know you and they'll like you. But me, I studied in a school where the muggles hated me. And I went into Hogwarts with a house full of kids who hated me. And I'm so sick of it."
"I know you are, Blaise. But not everything's a battle, you know? I talked to Fowler and she's promised to never-"
"I don't care about Fowler's promises, Ced. I don't bloody care what she thinks of me. I don't care if your whole fucking house hates me. I'm not going to change my reactions to them."
"Blaise, can you just keep your cool? Take the higher road?"
She snorted bitterly. "Cedric … I tried that once. You know, not reacting? Doing as I was told? It didn't get me to a happy place. No … I find fighting back more satisfying. I know what you're saying. And I know you're just looking out for me. But let's face it. I'm a Dark Wizard. And you know what? I'm proud of it. I'd rather be known for kicking arse than being a bloody saint for the masses. The masses have done nothing for me. My family is good people but they were scorned and judged like criminals. So fuck taking the higher road."
Cedric stared at her. She couldn't read his expression from the dim light. After a while he said, "I'm sorry. I never knew. I … Whatever makes you comfortable, Blaise. I wish I could do something. But it sounds like there's nothing I could really do to make this easier."
Blaise closed her eyes. "Cedric, you'd be doing me a big favor if you told your mates to stay away from me, or I'll make them stay away from me." She snorted. "Play with fire and they'll be burned."
He gave her a small smile. "Okay, Blaze." She pressed her hand gently on his shoulder and looked into his eyes, letting him know she had no hard feelings.
"You know … I really do like that name."