I stood up, preparing to leave together with Millicent and the others to go
and eat dinner and maybe get some sleep, but I didn't even get to the door
before Lucas called out to me. Once again, I was in trouble. I had to learn
not to ask questions in his class, since it seemed that that was why he
singled me out. I threw an apologetic glance at Millicent, who rolled her
eyes, but nodded. I turned and walked back into the classroom.
"Do sit down, Mr Zabini." Lucas nodded
I collapsed into a nearby chair once more, rubbing my eyes. Thirty-one hours now. The energy-kick the coffee had given me was starting to wear thin, and I could feel the fatigue come creeping up on me again. Hopefully, he'd just yell at me and let me go, so I could get some food and a lot of sleep.
"What was it?" I mumbled, trying to bite back a yawn, and just barely succeeding.
"Would you like to tell me the reason as to why you attempted to knock me off my feet earlier?" Lucas was smiling. A smiling Professor Lucas was nearly as frightening as imagining Snape in a pink dress.
"I had a problem with slowing down," I replied, sinking lower in my seat. It looked like this was going to take a while, after all, "After running head-long up the stairs. And the corridor, and the stair before that, and the one before that too."
"Why were you running head-long through the hallways, then?"
"Because I was running late; I had seven minutes to pick up my book and run across half the castle." I shrugged the best I could in my sitting position, "And I was sure you'd have my head if I was late. You weren't exactly happy with me yesterday."
"Yes, about the book," Lucas didn't look too happy with me, "I was informed in no uncertain terms by Professor Snape that you would be allowed to keep the book. Do you wish to tell me why he ordered me to do this?"
"No, I don't. May I go now?" I didn't want to start a fight with my teacher when I was sleep deprived and hungrier than a ravenous wolf.
"Yes," But he followed me out with his eyes.
I could tell he wasn't happy with my close-mouthed ness, and to tell the truth, neither was I. I didn't want to be secretive, but the less people who knew, the less people who would treat me like I was made of glass. If he wanted, needed to know, he could ask Snape about it. Nosy teachers weren't high up on my list of favourite things - at the moment, coffee held the top spot, closely followed by mornings when I was allowed to sleep in. Now, I had to get down the stairs all the way to the Great Hall without falling to pieces. Damn, I was hungry.
I stumbled down the stairs, clutching at the banister and trying not to fall head-first and break my sorry neck. My brain wasn't what it could be, and my sense of balance had taken a one-way ticket to Bahamas. My head was swimming, and nausea hit me in waves. I shouldn't have missed lunch when I'd only had coffee for breakfast. Where was Millicent? She would have waited for me, unless something happened. I reached the bottom of the first set of stairs, and wobbled away through the corridor. Lack of food and sleep really does affect your body and mind severely. My knees were shaking, as were my hands, and I couldn't see straight. May the devil take whoever built the Thestral- room.
I rounded a corner, clutching at the wall, and narrowly avoided crashing straight into someone going the other way. At first, I thought it was Millicent, but then my brain told me that Millicent was much larger than that, and had black hair. I tried to focus my eyes, and was supplied with the most unwelcome sight in the history of mankind; Granger, clutching at her books and glaring at me. I sneered at her; of all people it had to be her.
"Watch where you're going, Zabini," She snapped angrily.
"For the sake of all things you Muggleborns believe holy, Granger, I wasn't aiming to knock you over, was I?" I snapped back, "Have you seen Millie?"
"Bulstrode?" I forced myself not to roll my eyes at her; there weren't many other Millicent's in the school that I would want to get a hold of. In fact, I could only come up with one other; a third year Ravenclaw that I'd seen in a corridor once, "She headed to the hospital wing after the lesson; said something about seeing some other Slytherins. Was there anything else?"
She didn't wait for an answer and stormed past me, managing to push me into the wall on the way. I closed my eyes as my head hit the stone, and I saw stars for a second before recovering again. I opened my eyes and closed them again, wincing. There was no way I would make it to the Great Hall in this condition, on my own. I turned around, still shaking and clutching the wall, looking for someone to help me. Granger hadn't gotten far; she was standing just at the end of the corridor, looking at some scrap of paper in her hand.
"Granger!" I called.
She spun around, wand out, clearly expecting me to hex her or something. When she saw that I was looking like a drunken racoon, hanging on to the wall to save my life, she lowered her wand and began walking towards me. Apparently I wasn't as frightening to her as I'd imagined I'd been. Too bad; it would have been nice to be able to frighten a Gryffindor. Of course, I should have known I couldn't do that for long; those boneheads weren't even afraid of Voldemort, or so it seemed.
"What is it? What else do you want? I've got to go to Muggle Studies." She said as she came closer. "And if I'm late, I'll know who to blame."
"Granger, can you for once forget about your bloody lessons, and help someone?" I must have sounded pathetic; like a pleading slave, "I need to get down to the Great Hall, and if I try to walk there myself, I'll fall down the stairs and crack my scull open. Now, since Millie's in the hospital wing, fawning over Gaspar for all I know, could you find it in your Gryffindor heart to help me there?"
I tried to look as innocent as possible when I could barely keep my eyes open, and my fingers were starting to hurt from clinging to the wall for so long. Sighing, Granger shoved her wand back in her pocket and adjusted her book-bag on her shoulders. I didn't whoop and dance around because firstly, it would be so far out of character for me that it would be ridiculous, and secondly, I feared I would pass out if I did. She was going to help me! This was going to go down in the Slytherin history book as the greatest achievement of our time. I'd gotten a member of the infamous Trinity to help me.
"Alright, I'll help you, but only because I don't want to be blamed if you fall down the stairs and break your neck," She told me.
"I wasn't asking for compassion here, Granger." I smirked, or attempted to, "I just need a bit of help."
It was awkward; I was taller than her by at least a head, if not more, but we managed somehow. With one arm across her shoulders and the other on the wall, I made my way down the hallway, trying not to stumble over my own feet. That was definitely harder than it sounded. Granger kept muttering under her breath about clumsy Slytherins and Muggle Studies, but I ignored her. She'd volunteered to help me, even though she didn't have too; she'd only her self to blame.
The stairs were the hardest part; I swear I stumbled over my own feet more times than I can count, and was close to falling several times, but Granger managed to keep me upright. I've got to give her that; she does what she sets out to do, even if it is helping an impossibly rude Slytherin down the stairs. It wasn't as if I'd ever helped her. After six years in the same year as her though, I knew she'd demand I do something for her when we'd gotten down to the Great Hall.
The last few steps seemed like impossibility, but I managed, and clutched onto the doorframe. Granger let go of me slowly, as if she was afraid I'd fall down and whimper like some basket case. I raised my hand and held it out to her, and she took it hesitantly, the years of Slytherin-resent still haunting her. It would take more than one situation of politeness to get her over that snag.
"Thanks, Granger," I said, "Now, I've got to get something to eat before I pass out. You've got a lesson to get to."
"Yes." She nodded as she shook my hand, "I have. Don't go wandering alone in the corridors again Zabini, at least not when you're in this condition."
"I won't," I promised, and I didn't intend to.
She nodded quickly, before turning on her heel and leaving, climbing the stairs we'd just come down. I couldn't keep myself from grinning. I'd managed a civil conversation with Granger. Maybe this unity thing Dumbledore had been rambling about last year wasn't as impossible as it seemed. Now it was only the various students with Death Eater ambitions that were a problem.
I walked through the door and made my way to the Slytherin table with some semblance of dignity. There were many students there, even though some were still having lessons; the sixth and seventh year's eating schedule was a bit more flexible than the younger year's. I sat down next to the first year I'd noticed at the Sorting Ceremony; Cain. He was nibbling at his food silently, and looking very much frightened. Two days into his first year at Hogwarts, and still afraid. I could understand; back in my first year, I'd been a small, runty thing, and with classmates like Crabbe and Goyle, I was afraid of physical harm. And Cain was small; he looked much too small to be eleven. But then again, so did my sister.
"Hello there, Cain," I greeted him as I sat down, "How's Hogwarts been treating you?"
Gosh, he looked frightened when his head snapped around. He nearly dropped his food and started shaking. I tried to hide my own hands under the table, and attempted a reassuring smile directed at him. Unfortunately, the lack of fright I'd inspired in Granger didn't seem to work with Cain, who looked even more afraid.
"A-alright s-sir." He stammered fearfully.
"Sir?" I snorted with laughter, "Aye, now I've heard everything. Sir, indeed. You call me Blaise; sir will only make me look around to see who you're talking to. How's your classes?"
"Good," Cain seemed to be gaining a bit more confidence now that I'd laughed and proved myself as not as dangerous as I looked, "But Professor Lucas is scary."
"That he is," I wrinkled my nose, and piled some shepherd's pie onto my plate, "Did he pull the invisibility trick on you too?"
"No," Cain shook his head, "I saw him the whole time, well, not the whole time, but I saw him before the others. They were surprised though."
I chewed on my food thoughtfully, wondering exactly how the rest of the year would be like, with a teacher like Lucas. He didn't seem to be altogether on anyone's side, but no one was altogether on his side either. He seemed to be standing in the middle of a brewing war, and not even trying to bend to the wind. A strange man, that he was, but I couldn't figure out just what was odd about him. Other than his eyes and his most peculiar way of keeping his hair; no one, not even the most pureblooded boys, kept their hair that long. Malfoy senior had, but he'd always been vain and long hair would make him stand out. Stupid oaf.
"I can imagine. I'm not sure what to think about him; he doesn't like me though, I know that," I nodded, continuing the conversation. No one else seemed to be talking to Cain anyway, so I might as well, "But I've only had two lessons with him, and I haven't been completely awake for either of them." I grinned, "Too much coffee and too little sleep, I guess. Why aren't you sitting with the rest of the first years?"
Cain looked down in his plate, not even glancing at his classmates. I looked over at the little group. There was Crabbe's brother, I forget his first name, and a girl who looked like she was related to Augustus Rookwood. Bletchley's sister, Higgs' little brother, and Gaspar's cousin, I think his name's Corrin. Some others I didn't recognise, but who had the air of pureblood aristocracy about them, something Cain didn't. Angevine wasn't a name I recognised; as all purebloods of any reckon were interrelated, that was an odd occurrence. He must be one of the few Slytherins who could only count his family a few generations back.
"They don't like me," He was almost whispering, "They think I'm not worth talking to; my parents aren't good enough."
"Indoctrinated little idiots," I muttered, "Don't listen to them; half of them aren't bright enough to turn a stone without overheating their brains. Corrin Montague's got a brain on him, but I don't know how he uses it. Rookwood, that's her name right? Well, she's smart, that I know from Millicent. But it's peer-pressure; it's always the worst in Slytherin. In any of the other Houses, you'd be allowed to be whoever you want, and they wouldn't care much about your parents, but Slytherin has always been different. Too bad they're too blind to look outside tradition. You'll do well here in Slytherin, Cain, no matter what they say. The Hat wouldn't have put you here otherwise."
The little boy flushed with pride, and gave me a small smile. I grinned back at him, and winked, before flicking a pea at Crabbe's brother. It landed in his hair, but he didn't even notice. Cain snorted, and almost burst out laughing. I patted him on the shoulder before tucking into my food again. I'd made my good deed for the day. I'd made a Slytherin appreciate he was Slytherin, which was always a good thing, and I'd helped Granger do her daily good deed as well. If I wasn't careful, I'd end up on Father Christmas' Nice list this year, and what a disaster that would be.
Just as I finished my dinner, and was sitting there contemplating a second helping, Millicent came in together with Gaspar Montague, who had his hand bandaged. I felt a bit guilty; I'd broken his fingers in a raging caffeine fit, but he should have known better. I raised my eyebrow when I saw something resembling a blush crossing Millicent's cheeks. I needed to get more alert; I'd nearly missed that development. She sat down next to me, with Gaspar on her other side.
"'Lo there, Millie," I said, "Where've you been?"
"I visited the hospital wing to see how your victims were doing," She replied, gesturing towards Gaspar.
"Ah. Sorry about your hand, Gaspar," I grinned, "But you should've learned not to try to talk to me before I've got my coffee. How's it feeling now? The fingers, I mean."
"Good, good; Pomfrey got them fixed up pretty quickly," Gaspar smiled, "But she says I should take it slowly the first couple of days. You look pretty worn yourself; what's ruined your day?"
"It was about thirty-two hours since I last slept, I haven't eaten anything since last night, and I had to run like hell to get to my Defence lesson in time. I'm pretty out of it; I was shaking so bad I couldn't even make it to the Great Hall on my own," I shrugged, "I would've asked Millie, but she wasn't there. I had to recruit a Gryffindor, of all things, to help me."
"A Gryffindor?" Millicent wrinkled her nose, "Good gods, Blaise, what happened to the Slytherin pride?"
"Slytherin pride can be damned when it's a choice between cracking my head open on the stairs and making it to dinner safely," I leaned back in my chair and winked at Cain, who was listening very closely, "Besides, I can be proud over being a Slytherin, even though I occasionally do things that the purebloods shouldn't."
"Only you, Blaise," Millicent shook her head, "Only you."
I grinned at her, and helped myself to some more shepherd's pie. The hunger was starting to sink a bit, and no longer interfered with my thinking. I glanced over at the Gryffindor table, where Granger had just started on her dinner. She looked tired, annoyed and was trying to have a fight with Weasley and eat at the same time. Quite a feat, but then girls were better at doing several things simultaneously than boys were. Weasley was put off about something; I could tell by the colour of his face. He always blushed when he was angry. Too bad he's angry all the time.
I finished my food, and pushed the plate away. Cain was still pushing his food around on his plate, whistling to himself. Apparently, he wasn't too hungry. Resolutely, I took some mashed potatoes and put on his plate, and poured him another glass of pumpkin juice. I wasn't about to let him starve. He looked at me in surprise, and I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Cain Angevine, what would your mother say if you didn't eat your dinner properly?" I asked sternly, leaning forward, "Now, eat your potatoes like a good boy, and I won't tell Professor Snape about this."
Cain stared at me in shock for a moment, before a grin broke out on his face. I winked at him; I do appreciate when people pick up on my rather twisted sense of humour. I patted him on the shoulder before standing up. I needed to sleep, or I'd pass out, food or no food. I walked out of the Great Hall after nodding goodbye to Millicent and Gaspar. Sleep would he possible tonight; last night I hadn't been tired, so I hadn't fallen asleep when I should have. I just needed to be exhausted to go to sleep; the nightmares scared me, so I'd keep myself awake if I wasn't bone-tired.
Draco and Pansy entered just as I was leaving. They'd been having Potions, as far as I could understand. Draco had told me he had chosen to take Potions, Divination for some easy grades, Care of Magical Creatures since that would come in handy for the war, and Ancient Runes. True to her habit, Pansy had done the same. I never really understood why she has to slavishly follow anything Draco does, be she ever so much in love with him. One should never give up ones own wishes because a loved one asks you to.
*******'
Right, food, sleep, and something else. There was something I'd forgotten to do these past few days, and I was having a hard time remembering what it was. I scratched my head as I climbed the stairs, trying to come up with it. What had I not done over the last few days, except not thinking straight? Let's see; eaten properly, not wandered around where I shouldn't and...Showered. That was it; I hadn't showered in days. I wrinkled my nose. No wonder it seemed as if everything smelled of smoke and ashes these days.
I turned at the top of the steps and headed for the bathroom instead, yawning slightly as I went. I opened the door to the bathroom, and stepped inside. We've got pretty good bathrooms at Hogwarts; all white tiles and so on, and always clean towels. But then again, that's what you get for having Britain's largest population of House Elves. Yawning, I stripped down, detachedly listening to the running water. Hopefully, I wouldn't fall asleep standing up in the shower.
God, hot water running over me has got to be the most potent sleeping pill in the world. I actually fell asleep, standing up, three times in a row before I finished. Each time, I gained a new bump on my forehead as I hit it against the wall. I stepped out and wrapped a towel around my waist and started looking for my clothes again. There, my trousers and my underwear, there, my father's shirt. My robes went in the wash-stack, for the House Elves to take away and clean. They had all weekend.
I got dressed again, and brushed my teeth. By now, I was working automatically; my brain had stopped functioning about the third time I fell asleep, and I couldn't get it to work again. I didn't really bother trying; I was too tired. I dragged myself out of the bathroom and to my dormitory, collapsing on my bed. I curled up and fell asleep immediately, not bothering to undress. If I didn't know better, I would've said I snored.
*****'
Ending Notes; I'm sorry for the long lapse in updates, but there's a reason for it. My well-meaning, adorable but hopelessly annoying older brother decided to un-install Microsoft Word on my computer, and so I have had to make do with a word processor I am totally unfamiliar with, and which file- format can't be used on ff.net. Hopefully, I'll be able to reinstall Word again and start working like normal.
"Do sit down, Mr Zabini." Lucas nodded
I collapsed into a nearby chair once more, rubbing my eyes. Thirty-one hours now. The energy-kick the coffee had given me was starting to wear thin, and I could feel the fatigue come creeping up on me again. Hopefully, he'd just yell at me and let me go, so I could get some food and a lot of sleep.
"What was it?" I mumbled, trying to bite back a yawn, and just barely succeeding.
"Would you like to tell me the reason as to why you attempted to knock me off my feet earlier?" Lucas was smiling. A smiling Professor Lucas was nearly as frightening as imagining Snape in a pink dress.
"I had a problem with slowing down," I replied, sinking lower in my seat. It looked like this was going to take a while, after all, "After running head-long up the stairs. And the corridor, and the stair before that, and the one before that too."
"Why were you running head-long through the hallways, then?"
"Because I was running late; I had seven minutes to pick up my book and run across half the castle." I shrugged the best I could in my sitting position, "And I was sure you'd have my head if I was late. You weren't exactly happy with me yesterday."
"Yes, about the book," Lucas didn't look too happy with me, "I was informed in no uncertain terms by Professor Snape that you would be allowed to keep the book. Do you wish to tell me why he ordered me to do this?"
"No, I don't. May I go now?" I didn't want to start a fight with my teacher when I was sleep deprived and hungrier than a ravenous wolf.
"Yes," But he followed me out with his eyes.
I could tell he wasn't happy with my close-mouthed ness, and to tell the truth, neither was I. I didn't want to be secretive, but the less people who knew, the less people who would treat me like I was made of glass. If he wanted, needed to know, he could ask Snape about it. Nosy teachers weren't high up on my list of favourite things - at the moment, coffee held the top spot, closely followed by mornings when I was allowed to sleep in. Now, I had to get down the stairs all the way to the Great Hall without falling to pieces. Damn, I was hungry.
I stumbled down the stairs, clutching at the banister and trying not to fall head-first and break my sorry neck. My brain wasn't what it could be, and my sense of balance had taken a one-way ticket to Bahamas. My head was swimming, and nausea hit me in waves. I shouldn't have missed lunch when I'd only had coffee for breakfast. Where was Millicent? She would have waited for me, unless something happened. I reached the bottom of the first set of stairs, and wobbled away through the corridor. Lack of food and sleep really does affect your body and mind severely. My knees were shaking, as were my hands, and I couldn't see straight. May the devil take whoever built the Thestral- room.
I rounded a corner, clutching at the wall, and narrowly avoided crashing straight into someone going the other way. At first, I thought it was Millicent, but then my brain told me that Millicent was much larger than that, and had black hair. I tried to focus my eyes, and was supplied with the most unwelcome sight in the history of mankind; Granger, clutching at her books and glaring at me. I sneered at her; of all people it had to be her.
"Watch where you're going, Zabini," She snapped angrily.
"For the sake of all things you Muggleborns believe holy, Granger, I wasn't aiming to knock you over, was I?" I snapped back, "Have you seen Millie?"
"Bulstrode?" I forced myself not to roll my eyes at her; there weren't many other Millicent's in the school that I would want to get a hold of. In fact, I could only come up with one other; a third year Ravenclaw that I'd seen in a corridor once, "She headed to the hospital wing after the lesson; said something about seeing some other Slytherins. Was there anything else?"
She didn't wait for an answer and stormed past me, managing to push me into the wall on the way. I closed my eyes as my head hit the stone, and I saw stars for a second before recovering again. I opened my eyes and closed them again, wincing. There was no way I would make it to the Great Hall in this condition, on my own. I turned around, still shaking and clutching the wall, looking for someone to help me. Granger hadn't gotten far; she was standing just at the end of the corridor, looking at some scrap of paper in her hand.
"Granger!" I called.
She spun around, wand out, clearly expecting me to hex her or something. When she saw that I was looking like a drunken racoon, hanging on to the wall to save my life, she lowered her wand and began walking towards me. Apparently I wasn't as frightening to her as I'd imagined I'd been. Too bad; it would have been nice to be able to frighten a Gryffindor. Of course, I should have known I couldn't do that for long; those boneheads weren't even afraid of Voldemort, or so it seemed.
"What is it? What else do you want? I've got to go to Muggle Studies." She said as she came closer. "And if I'm late, I'll know who to blame."
"Granger, can you for once forget about your bloody lessons, and help someone?" I must have sounded pathetic; like a pleading slave, "I need to get down to the Great Hall, and if I try to walk there myself, I'll fall down the stairs and crack my scull open. Now, since Millie's in the hospital wing, fawning over Gaspar for all I know, could you find it in your Gryffindor heart to help me there?"
I tried to look as innocent as possible when I could barely keep my eyes open, and my fingers were starting to hurt from clinging to the wall for so long. Sighing, Granger shoved her wand back in her pocket and adjusted her book-bag on her shoulders. I didn't whoop and dance around because firstly, it would be so far out of character for me that it would be ridiculous, and secondly, I feared I would pass out if I did. She was going to help me! This was going to go down in the Slytherin history book as the greatest achievement of our time. I'd gotten a member of the infamous Trinity to help me.
"Alright, I'll help you, but only because I don't want to be blamed if you fall down the stairs and break your neck," She told me.
"I wasn't asking for compassion here, Granger." I smirked, or attempted to, "I just need a bit of help."
It was awkward; I was taller than her by at least a head, if not more, but we managed somehow. With one arm across her shoulders and the other on the wall, I made my way down the hallway, trying not to stumble over my own feet. That was definitely harder than it sounded. Granger kept muttering under her breath about clumsy Slytherins and Muggle Studies, but I ignored her. She'd volunteered to help me, even though she didn't have too; she'd only her self to blame.
The stairs were the hardest part; I swear I stumbled over my own feet more times than I can count, and was close to falling several times, but Granger managed to keep me upright. I've got to give her that; she does what she sets out to do, even if it is helping an impossibly rude Slytherin down the stairs. It wasn't as if I'd ever helped her. After six years in the same year as her though, I knew she'd demand I do something for her when we'd gotten down to the Great Hall.
The last few steps seemed like impossibility, but I managed, and clutched onto the doorframe. Granger let go of me slowly, as if she was afraid I'd fall down and whimper like some basket case. I raised my hand and held it out to her, and she took it hesitantly, the years of Slytherin-resent still haunting her. It would take more than one situation of politeness to get her over that snag.
"Thanks, Granger," I said, "Now, I've got to get something to eat before I pass out. You've got a lesson to get to."
"Yes." She nodded as she shook my hand, "I have. Don't go wandering alone in the corridors again Zabini, at least not when you're in this condition."
"I won't," I promised, and I didn't intend to.
She nodded quickly, before turning on her heel and leaving, climbing the stairs we'd just come down. I couldn't keep myself from grinning. I'd managed a civil conversation with Granger. Maybe this unity thing Dumbledore had been rambling about last year wasn't as impossible as it seemed. Now it was only the various students with Death Eater ambitions that were a problem.
I walked through the door and made my way to the Slytherin table with some semblance of dignity. There were many students there, even though some were still having lessons; the sixth and seventh year's eating schedule was a bit more flexible than the younger year's. I sat down next to the first year I'd noticed at the Sorting Ceremony; Cain. He was nibbling at his food silently, and looking very much frightened. Two days into his first year at Hogwarts, and still afraid. I could understand; back in my first year, I'd been a small, runty thing, and with classmates like Crabbe and Goyle, I was afraid of physical harm. And Cain was small; he looked much too small to be eleven. But then again, so did my sister.
"Hello there, Cain," I greeted him as I sat down, "How's Hogwarts been treating you?"
Gosh, he looked frightened when his head snapped around. He nearly dropped his food and started shaking. I tried to hide my own hands under the table, and attempted a reassuring smile directed at him. Unfortunately, the lack of fright I'd inspired in Granger didn't seem to work with Cain, who looked even more afraid.
"A-alright s-sir." He stammered fearfully.
"Sir?" I snorted with laughter, "Aye, now I've heard everything. Sir, indeed. You call me Blaise; sir will only make me look around to see who you're talking to. How's your classes?"
"Good," Cain seemed to be gaining a bit more confidence now that I'd laughed and proved myself as not as dangerous as I looked, "But Professor Lucas is scary."
"That he is," I wrinkled my nose, and piled some shepherd's pie onto my plate, "Did he pull the invisibility trick on you too?"
"No," Cain shook his head, "I saw him the whole time, well, not the whole time, but I saw him before the others. They were surprised though."
I chewed on my food thoughtfully, wondering exactly how the rest of the year would be like, with a teacher like Lucas. He didn't seem to be altogether on anyone's side, but no one was altogether on his side either. He seemed to be standing in the middle of a brewing war, and not even trying to bend to the wind. A strange man, that he was, but I couldn't figure out just what was odd about him. Other than his eyes and his most peculiar way of keeping his hair; no one, not even the most pureblooded boys, kept their hair that long. Malfoy senior had, but he'd always been vain and long hair would make him stand out. Stupid oaf.
"I can imagine. I'm not sure what to think about him; he doesn't like me though, I know that," I nodded, continuing the conversation. No one else seemed to be talking to Cain anyway, so I might as well, "But I've only had two lessons with him, and I haven't been completely awake for either of them." I grinned, "Too much coffee and too little sleep, I guess. Why aren't you sitting with the rest of the first years?"
Cain looked down in his plate, not even glancing at his classmates. I looked over at the little group. There was Crabbe's brother, I forget his first name, and a girl who looked like she was related to Augustus Rookwood. Bletchley's sister, Higgs' little brother, and Gaspar's cousin, I think his name's Corrin. Some others I didn't recognise, but who had the air of pureblood aristocracy about them, something Cain didn't. Angevine wasn't a name I recognised; as all purebloods of any reckon were interrelated, that was an odd occurrence. He must be one of the few Slytherins who could only count his family a few generations back.
"They don't like me," He was almost whispering, "They think I'm not worth talking to; my parents aren't good enough."
"Indoctrinated little idiots," I muttered, "Don't listen to them; half of them aren't bright enough to turn a stone without overheating their brains. Corrin Montague's got a brain on him, but I don't know how he uses it. Rookwood, that's her name right? Well, she's smart, that I know from Millicent. But it's peer-pressure; it's always the worst in Slytherin. In any of the other Houses, you'd be allowed to be whoever you want, and they wouldn't care much about your parents, but Slytherin has always been different. Too bad they're too blind to look outside tradition. You'll do well here in Slytherin, Cain, no matter what they say. The Hat wouldn't have put you here otherwise."
The little boy flushed with pride, and gave me a small smile. I grinned back at him, and winked, before flicking a pea at Crabbe's brother. It landed in his hair, but he didn't even notice. Cain snorted, and almost burst out laughing. I patted him on the shoulder before tucking into my food again. I'd made my good deed for the day. I'd made a Slytherin appreciate he was Slytherin, which was always a good thing, and I'd helped Granger do her daily good deed as well. If I wasn't careful, I'd end up on Father Christmas' Nice list this year, and what a disaster that would be.
Just as I finished my dinner, and was sitting there contemplating a second helping, Millicent came in together with Gaspar Montague, who had his hand bandaged. I felt a bit guilty; I'd broken his fingers in a raging caffeine fit, but he should have known better. I raised my eyebrow when I saw something resembling a blush crossing Millicent's cheeks. I needed to get more alert; I'd nearly missed that development. She sat down next to me, with Gaspar on her other side.
"'Lo there, Millie," I said, "Where've you been?"
"I visited the hospital wing to see how your victims were doing," She replied, gesturing towards Gaspar.
"Ah. Sorry about your hand, Gaspar," I grinned, "But you should've learned not to try to talk to me before I've got my coffee. How's it feeling now? The fingers, I mean."
"Good, good; Pomfrey got them fixed up pretty quickly," Gaspar smiled, "But she says I should take it slowly the first couple of days. You look pretty worn yourself; what's ruined your day?"
"It was about thirty-two hours since I last slept, I haven't eaten anything since last night, and I had to run like hell to get to my Defence lesson in time. I'm pretty out of it; I was shaking so bad I couldn't even make it to the Great Hall on my own," I shrugged, "I would've asked Millie, but she wasn't there. I had to recruit a Gryffindor, of all things, to help me."
"A Gryffindor?" Millicent wrinkled her nose, "Good gods, Blaise, what happened to the Slytherin pride?"
"Slytherin pride can be damned when it's a choice between cracking my head open on the stairs and making it to dinner safely," I leaned back in my chair and winked at Cain, who was listening very closely, "Besides, I can be proud over being a Slytherin, even though I occasionally do things that the purebloods shouldn't."
"Only you, Blaise," Millicent shook her head, "Only you."
I grinned at her, and helped myself to some more shepherd's pie. The hunger was starting to sink a bit, and no longer interfered with my thinking. I glanced over at the Gryffindor table, where Granger had just started on her dinner. She looked tired, annoyed and was trying to have a fight with Weasley and eat at the same time. Quite a feat, but then girls were better at doing several things simultaneously than boys were. Weasley was put off about something; I could tell by the colour of his face. He always blushed when he was angry. Too bad he's angry all the time.
I finished my food, and pushed the plate away. Cain was still pushing his food around on his plate, whistling to himself. Apparently, he wasn't too hungry. Resolutely, I took some mashed potatoes and put on his plate, and poured him another glass of pumpkin juice. I wasn't about to let him starve. He looked at me in surprise, and I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Cain Angevine, what would your mother say if you didn't eat your dinner properly?" I asked sternly, leaning forward, "Now, eat your potatoes like a good boy, and I won't tell Professor Snape about this."
Cain stared at me in shock for a moment, before a grin broke out on his face. I winked at him; I do appreciate when people pick up on my rather twisted sense of humour. I patted him on the shoulder before standing up. I needed to sleep, or I'd pass out, food or no food. I walked out of the Great Hall after nodding goodbye to Millicent and Gaspar. Sleep would he possible tonight; last night I hadn't been tired, so I hadn't fallen asleep when I should have. I just needed to be exhausted to go to sleep; the nightmares scared me, so I'd keep myself awake if I wasn't bone-tired.
Draco and Pansy entered just as I was leaving. They'd been having Potions, as far as I could understand. Draco had told me he had chosen to take Potions, Divination for some easy grades, Care of Magical Creatures since that would come in handy for the war, and Ancient Runes. True to her habit, Pansy had done the same. I never really understood why she has to slavishly follow anything Draco does, be she ever so much in love with him. One should never give up ones own wishes because a loved one asks you to.
*******'
Right, food, sleep, and something else. There was something I'd forgotten to do these past few days, and I was having a hard time remembering what it was. I scratched my head as I climbed the stairs, trying to come up with it. What had I not done over the last few days, except not thinking straight? Let's see; eaten properly, not wandered around where I shouldn't and...Showered. That was it; I hadn't showered in days. I wrinkled my nose. No wonder it seemed as if everything smelled of smoke and ashes these days.
I turned at the top of the steps and headed for the bathroom instead, yawning slightly as I went. I opened the door to the bathroom, and stepped inside. We've got pretty good bathrooms at Hogwarts; all white tiles and so on, and always clean towels. But then again, that's what you get for having Britain's largest population of House Elves. Yawning, I stripped down, detachedly listening to the running water. Hopefully, I wouldn't fall asleep standing up in the shower.
God, hot water running over me has got to be the most potent sleeping pill in the world. I actually fell asleep, standing up, three times in a row before I finished. Each time, I gained a new bump on my forehead as I hit it against the wall. I stepped out and wrapped a towel around my waist and started looking for my clothes again. There, my trousers and my underwear, there, my father's shirt. My robes went in the wash-stack, for the House Elves to take away and clean. They had all weekend.
I got dressed again, and brushed my teeth. By now, I was working automatically; my brain had stopped functioning about the third time I fell asleep, and I couldn't get it to work again. I didn't really bother trying; I was too tired. I dragged myself out of the bathroom and to my dormitory, collapsing on my bed. I curled up and fell asleep immediately, not bothering to undress. If I didn't know better, I would've said I snored.
*****'
Ending Notes; I'm sorry for the long lapse in updates, but there's a reason for it. My well-meaning, adorable but hopelessly annoying older brother decided to un-install Microsoft Word on my computer, and so I have had to make do with a word processor I am totally unfamiliar with, and which file- format can't be used on ff.net. Hopefully, I'll be able to reinstall Word again and start working like normal.