I will start updating more regularly, sometime in the future, but here is
the eight chapter at last. Writing is going good right now, so you might
get chapter nine sooner than you got this one.
******'
Unconsciousness began to slip away as I began my descent into waking again. I cracked one eye open and snapped it shut again immediately. My head was pounding, and I was pretty sure I had a tiny, green gnome on my forehead who was attempting to hack his way into my brain. That's what you get from flying in the rain. Sure, that had been three days ago, but as everyone knew, it took three days to catch a cold, three days to have a cold and three days to get rid of a cold. I think I read that somewhere in a book. Probably a Muggle one. Sounds like something they would say.
I fought my way up out of the bed, and realised it was once again Thursday. Meaning all four subjects in one day, albeit short lessons. Hopefully, Thursday the 7th of September wouldn't bring any detentions or points- losses. Hell, I hoped I'd make it through the day without sneezing at my teachers. I'd like to, only once, have a nice, normal week of school. Or at least as nice and normal a week as one could have in the presence of Harry Potter.
In a pile on the floor, hastily discarded late last night, were my clothes. I'd sat up most of the night, writing on my latest Transfiguration assignment, and hadn't gone to bed until well after midnight. I could take a late night though; it was when I went to bed early in the morning that the troubles began to pop up. A cold didn't help very much either, but somehow I managed to make it to the Great Hall without falling down. The one thing that kept me going that far was the thought of coffee in a great big mug, and another one after that. Unfortunately, when I did reach the breakfast table, I noticed almost no one was there anymore. Except Cain, who was hurrying to finish up his breakfast, looking very stressed.
"Cain? Where is everybody?" I asked my voice sounding like I'd eaten gravel and stuffed my nose with cotton. "Why aren't they eating breakfast?"
"Because we have five minutes before class start!" Cain said frantically, "I've got to run!"
He upped and left, trailing parchment all across the Great Hall as he ran. I can't blame him; he's got Transfiguration first thing in the morning on Thursdays, and no one wants to be late for McGonagall's class. I had Arithmancy, at the very top of the castle, in five minutes. Fortunately, it was only one staircase and one hallway away, and if I took the coffee with me, I just might get a decent breakfast before Vector forced Geometrics on us again. I snatched a cup, put a charm on it so that it wouldn't spill over when I ran, and headed for the door as fast as my legs to carry me. Those nights with A Housewife's Guide to Useful Charms had paid off.
I dodged a few late-comers, clutching onto my coffee as if it was a life- saver, which it more or less was, and ran like crazy for the staircase. I'm sure I sent more than one first-year scrambling for the safety of their classrooms. I must have looked might frightening; dishevelled, dressed in an anything but clean shirt (my father's; I never did get those soot-stains out) and running like a madman with a mug of coffee in my hands. I still had about three minutes when I reached the top of the stairs, and was confident that I would reach the classroom on time.
I did, and slipped into my seat about two minutes before Vector entered the room, carrying a stack of papers for us. I curled up in my seat and looked at her blearily. Colds are not a good help if one wishes for good education. I tried to be as unsuspicious as possible as I sipped my coffee, and listened as much as I could to Vector as she rattled off something about how good we were and how proud she was of us. Attention took a holiday after that, and I let my eyes drift over the other students. Granger was glaring at me again. I nodded my head at her and sipped my coffee silently. Wonder why she was glaring at me; I hadn't done anything to insult or hurt her this term, and neither could I remember if I had done anything to her specifically earlier either. Maybe she was still annoyed about having to drag me down to the Great Hall.
Bones was one of the few Hufflepuffs who took Arithmancy, and one of the few Hufflepuffs I'd ever bothered to speak to. They're not bad, as a breed, but I've never seen a reason to talk to them. They're the most reliable people in the world, and I appreciate them greatly; if I had a choice, I'd rather have a Hufflepuff on my side than a Ravenclaw or a Gryffindor. They, at least, won't bury themselves in books and refuse helping me or charge head-straight into trouble. Thank Merlin for the Hufflepuffs, is all I can say.
Vector started handing out the papers, and I ducked into my book-bag to look for my quill. My breakfast, while pretty thin, had gotten my brain working again, and I stared working through the problems as quickly as I could. Some of them were quite complicated, and took some time, but I managed. I didn't get into this class by being stupid, after all. I could hear Bones whistling to herself as she worked the problems out, while Granger was mumbling. Boots was having a whispered conversation with himself and was apparently lost completely in a world of his own. That's a thing I like about Arithmancy class; it's always so quiet.
Arithmancy comes easy to me, but it isn't very enjoyable. I needed it to give me a wide range of occupations to chose from when I graduated though, and so I endured it. I finished my paper and put my quill down. Vector raised her eyebrow, but took it and handed me another one. I sighed. I should have known Vector had more things in store for me. Sometimes, I could swear she makes these things up in the middle of the night, cackling like a madwoman, just so that I won't be able to get a second of rest in class. The teachers are conspiring against me, I swear. Honest.
Let's see, one and one is two, as always, so two times five is ten, divided by thirty-five, times - egads, what is this equation? Vector had given me the mathematical equivalent of insanity. I scratched the back of my head, wondering what I had done to deserve that kind of punishment, before looking up. I needed to distract my brain before dealing with the veritable monster Vector had handed me. I noticed Granger was looking pretty desperate as well, and I figured she'd finished early as well. She was running her hands through her hands and counting on her fingers silently, apparently not getting any sense out of it either. But then she began to scribble furiously; she must have figured out some part of it. I furrowed my brow; there was no way I was letting Granger get ahead of me in Arithmancy. I picked up my quill again and got back to the paper. I would finish this, and I would do so before Granger.
Let's see, I was at ten divided by thirty-five. It didn't get easier after that, but I was determined to finish it. I glanced to my side and saw Granger picking up her quill again and writing. I returned to my paper and scribbled faster. Numbers and fractions swam before my eyes, and I did my best not to mix them up. Just as I was writing the last number down, my quill broke. I ducked down into my bag again and retrieved my reserve-quill and finished the equation and out my quill down at the same time Granger did. I stared at the answer for a moment, before realising there was something wrong with it. It didn't add up properly. I raised my hand, but didn't wait for Vector to say anything before I spoke. Bad manners, but hey, that's me.
"Professor, there's something wrong with this." But I wasn't the only one who had spoken. I looked to my side, and saw Granger with her hand up as well, but now glaring at me. I raised my eyebrow. The Gryffindor shows her claws.
"You solved it that quickly?" Vector smiled, "Whatever shall I do with the two of you? I will have to come up with more difficult assignments, I believe. There is something wrong with it, yes. I am impressed both of you saw it that quickly. Five points for both of your Houses."
I blinked. So I earned five points for figuring a problem was wrong. A grin spread over my face. Neat! I'll have to do that again. Granger glared at me, clearly not happy that I had earned points fairly. I gave her a happy grin, just to annoy her, and turned by attention back to Vector. Say, Arithmancy had its good points, as long as you were allowed to poke fun at Gryffindors.
******'
"So, Blaise, what's your next goal?" Millicent asked me as we wandered off in the direction of the Charms classroom. "You always seem to be having a to-do list somewhere about your person."
"My next goal?" I grinned, "Annoy the hell out of Granger. She takes it personally all the time, and besides, to see her trying to form a reply to an insult when she's so angry that he hair stands on end is pretty funny. Gryffindors are so wonderfully easy to anger, don't you think?"
"That they are," Millicent agreed, "Why Granger though?"
"Because her fists aren't as prone to flying as Weasley's are, and she's easier to handle than Potter." I shrugged, "I don't intend to keep it up for long; just a minor distraction."
We turned a corner in the corridor and walked into the Charms classroom. I had anticipated this lesson greatly; Flitwick had promised to teach us some new Charms that he thought were wonderfully useful. This could only mean good things; Flitwick had yet to deliver a lesson that wasn't at least somewhat interesting. I sat back in my seat and played with my sleeve as we waited for the lesson to start. Granger, Potter and Weasley entered, and Granger glared at me. I threw a piece of paper at her. Weasley looked as if he was going to hit me for a while, but then sat down again. Bah. Boring people.
"Good day, everyone!" Flitwick chirped, cheerful as always, "Today we are going to learn a brand new charm, just invented last year, as a matter of fact; when the incantation is spoken, a small, or large, storm cloud will appear over the receiver's head, and a tiny, or large, rainstorm will break out, depending on how forcefully the caster's wand is flicked. Now, say after me; tempestas."
"Tempestas." We chorused.
We were paired up two and two to try out the new spell on each other, while Flitwick stood to the side, ready with some heating spells if we should succeed. Storms create quite a bit of water when unleashed. I and Millicent practised it, and although it turned out to be only sparks the first few times I tried it, I concentrated more and managed to actually create a tiny rain cloud above her head. Only a few raindrops, but I was nearly jumping with joy of having accomplished the spell, however small, in that short amount of time. I grinned broadly at Millicent, who wrinkled her nose; she didn't like getting her hair wet.
"Right, let's see if I can do the same on you then," She said, pulling out her own wand.
"Oh, Millie, let's not," I realised that a bucket-load of water over my head would not improve my health very much what with the cold and all, "I've got a serious cold, and why don't you go and ask Bones if you can practise with her; she hasn't got anyone to hex."
"Weakling," Millicent laughed before moving off to look for Bones.
I sat down on a chair in the corner of the room, and watched the others. My headache, which had gone away after breakfast, returned again. I dislike being ill; it's annoying, especially having colds, since they don't really hurt or are life-threatening in any way, but are constantly there, blocking my nose, my throat and setting my hearing and my eyesight down a few notches. I sat there, fiddling with a corner of my robes, and tried to distract myself from utter boredom.
"Are you alright Mr Zabini?" Flitwick seemed worried.
"I've caught a bit of a cold, sir," I shrugged. It always paid to be nice to teachers who liked you, and even those who didn't, "Nothing serious, but I thought I'd sit down for a bit."
"Ah. Those are a bit of a bother," Flitwick nodded, "Why don't you go up to see Poppy and ask for some Pepper-Up Potion? You have already accomplished today's lesson, and the homework is only to practise the spell some more. Go ahead now."
"Alright," I nodded and got up. Pepper-Up Potion sounded like a good idea right now anyway.
*******'
Madam Pomfrey is strange; she spends all her time up in the hospital wing, rolling bandages, preparing beds and waiting for the next patient to call in sick. The only time she leaves that place is to go to the Quidditch- games, and then only because she has to stand by in case something happens. I like her though; there's never anyone as helpful when you're sick. There must have been a distinct lack of patients this term, because she swooped down on me as soon as I took a step inside the door, and was ushered off to sit on a newly-made bed. A cup of the smoking potion was pushed into my hands, and she stood there with her arms crossed, waiting for me to drink up. I did.
"What have you done to land yourself with a cold, Mr Zabini?" She asked, arcing one eyebrow.
"I was flying in the rain," I tried not to look like a guilty little boy, but I guess I failed.
"Why were you flying in the rain?"
"Because it's fun?"
"Ah." Ouch, that sounded ominous. Note to self; never go flying in the rain if there's any danger of catching a cold. Madam Pomfrey's glaring isn't nice to be at the receiving end of.
I was ordered to stay in bed for about half an hour, just for the potion to take effect. That left me about fifteen minutes free before Defence. Ample time to worry about what Lucas would do to me this time. I hoped I didn't have to clean out the Owlry again. Lucas had chosen me as his own personal target, of that I was certain. And I'd never done anything to him. Ten minutes ticked by. I couldn't take lying down without reading or something, and sighed.
"Madam Pomfrey?" I called.
"Yes?"
"Do I have to lie still for half an hour?" I looked at her pleadingly, "I'm going to go crazy, and I know you'll hate to have to deal with a basket case. I'll go straight to class, and sit down and not move for at least an hour. Can I go now?"
"You will get yourself in trouble, Mr Zabini," She shook her head, but let me go. Yes! Zabini, 1, Pomfrey, 0. I was good at this game. "But if you ever show up her with a cold due to flying in the rain, I'm going to show you the door and laugh at you."
"And don't you forget it!" She called after me as I headed down the corridor.
I shook my head and snorted. She certainly was a character, that Poppy Pomfrey. Who names their child Poppy anyway? Other than a Herbology-raging Hufflepuff, I mean. Honestly, naming ones daughter after a tree is just cruel. I turned a corner, whistling to myself, unconsciously choosing a song from the Muggle CD I'd bought during summer. There was something about those guitar-solos that stuck in my mind. I didn't consider them the best music ever created, but they weren't bad, and as mentioned, they stuck.
I reached the classroom way before anyone else did, and settled myself into a seat at the back, where I could pull my legs up and rest my arms on my knees and my back against the wall, and still see the front of the classroom clearly, and hopefully without being disturbed by Lucas or anyone else. While the Pepper-Up Potion had helped, I was nowhere near being cured of my cold. My head still hurt, and my brain wasn't what it was. It never had been, as Millicent would have told me. I drifted off into half-asleep state, and stared vacantly at the blackboard. Sickness did odd things to my brain.
Lucas was an odd fellow; he hadn't erased the phrase he'd written the first day of lessons yet, and I had a feeling that it would be written there until he left. He'd never really told us anything other than the fact that it had to do with Defence, and the things he believed it to be. It had no relation whatsoever with what we were learning this term. He had some strange ideas, that Vincent Lucas. He'd told us nothing about himself other than his name, but it rang a bell in my mind. If only I could find the string the bell was attached to, then I might get some idea about who he was. If I had the energy to do it.
We had Defence three times a week; Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, with the Thursday lesson being the shortest, only an hour long. This was our fourth Defence lesson, and I had yet to learn something new. No new curses, no new dark creatures. Maybe we would today. Lucas had only put us though senseless assignments, such as writing about that phrase and a short re- telling of our meeting with the Boggart. Senseless, stupid things, which would not make us able to defend ourselves. He had yet to be true to his words on the second day. I'd ask him, but I didn't want detention.
I flipped my book open, at a random page, and began reading about Manticores. Not the most enthralling reading I've ever done, but I needed to keep myself awake. This was certainly more interesting than the lessons we'd been having with Lucas. From the book, at least, I could learn what the weak spots of a Manticore were, and should I ever be faced with one, I would be able to remember it. If I ever faced a Manticore, poetry I'd read wasn't going to make a difference.
It was only gradually that I became aware of someone else in the room with me. Someone who was sitting next to me silently. I don't know how I knew, but I did; there was a kind of presence that you don't feel if you're alone in the room. Even ghosts are detectable that way. I'd always been able to tell, somehow, if I was alone or not. I flipped another page, not looking to my side, calmly continuing to read. There was no reason to get excited or angry; one tends to forget hexes when one gets worked up.
"What is it?" I mumbled, directing my question at the other person.
"Why are you in my classroom this early, Mr Zabini?"
Ah, Lucas. I should have known. It as, as he said, his classroom after all. Why shouldn't he be here? I began on the chapter about old Egyptian magic, still not looking at him. I contemplated not replying, since he was probably going to take points off me for talking back to him, but chose to speak anyway, since he would certainly find a reason to take points if I didn't answer.
"Because I was allowed to leave the hospital wing early and because I didn't feel like sitting in the corridor." I replied, "And because the chairs in this classroom are so much more comfortable than those in the library."
"Why were you in the hospital wing?" That nagging, halfway curious tone.
"I have a cold."
"Why aren't you in bed then? You should not have come to class if you have a cold." Condescending now; it annoyed me.
"Because I didn't feel like staying in bed, and because it was my own damned stupidity that got me the cold, and I'll be damned before I let it win." Yes, strange reasoning. I'd love to get a look of his face when he tries to figure that one out, "And because I didn't want to miss my Defence class. Not that we learn anything useful in it."
"You don't?" Quiet, dangerous.
"No. I have yet to realise how we are going to defend ourselves with the knowledge you have given us." I finally looked at him. He did not, as I had expected, look as if he was on the verge of strangling me. There was a hint of anger in his expression, but he was sitting calmly in his seat, looking at me, "I enjoy poetry, I really do, and fiction is a favourite pastime of mine, but other than throwing a book at a Dark Creature and knocking him out, I don't see a use for it in Defence."
"Ah. You think I should be teaching you curses, do you not?" Lucas nodded to himself.
"No, I don't; curses aren't going to help me much, since I know pretty much all of the ones allowed for students. I didn't spend the weekends doing nothing, you know," I interrupted, "While Potter was hiding away somewhere, teaching stunning spells to the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws and his little friends, while he was trying to teach them the Patronus Charm, I was in the dungeons with the fifth, sixth and seventh years, duelling. I'm the Slytherin House Duelling Champion. I know those curses better than anyone else does, and thanks to Potter, the others know enough to save themselves if attacked by a vicious badger, but that won't be enough, will it? I'll manage, but they won't. Patronus Charms will only get you so far. Millie knows enough, I know enough to manage, but they don't."
Phew, I haven't spoken that much at one time in ages now. Last time I did was in my acceptance speech for the Slytherin Duelling House Cup. Useful trinket that is; it's an old banner, worn so thin that if I held it up to the sky, I would be able to count the stars through it. Zarias Bletchley told me the old legend about it once belonging to old Slytherin himself, over a thousand years ago. It's certainly dusty enough for it to be believable.
"What, exactly, are you proposing I do, Mr Zabini?" Lucas was actually looking interested now.
"Do what Lockhart failed to do," I shrugged, "Even with Snape's helping, or rather unhelping hand; a duelling club. A duelling course, call it what you will. I'm certain the whole of Hogwarts would sign up for it if you put out a sign-up. I'd suggest you don't; you don't want too many people there at once. Teach the sixth, seventh, and maybe the fifth years how to duel properly, teach them some more dangerous spells, and maybe they won't feel so nervous anymore. It's easier to feel safe when you can defend yourself. And it's easier to sleep if you're not afraid. It's easier to keep sane."
Lucas's eyebrows should have disappeared into his hairline and never come down, but they didn't. He should, by all rights, have told me off for suggesting such a thing, or failing that, should have asked me where I got that crazy idea. But he didn't. He must have planned that already; he must have thought of teaching us how to duel. I just knew it.
"That," He said, "Is the sanest idea I have heard since I stepped through the door of this castle. An idea that might actually work. And it shall begin tomorrow. Today, we will be reading in our books, as a preparation. You are wise for someone so young, Mr Zabini."
I blinked, both at the acceptance and the unexpected compliment. Well, he always was odd, that Lucas. I returned to my book, sinking into the descriptions about Egyptian curses placed on the tombs, and drifted away from the world around me.
*****'
Ending Notes; *gasp* A duelling club! Will this all end in tears? Will it be a success? And most importantly, will Blaise ever get to have a normal school week? We'll see in the coming chapter...
******'
Unconsciousness began to slip away as I began my descent into waking again. I cracked one eye open and snapped it shut again immediately. My head was pounding, and I was pretty sure I had a tiny, green gnome on my forehead who was attempting to hack his way into my brain. That's what you get from flying in the rain. Sure, that had been three days ago, but as everyone knew, it took three days to catch a cold, three days to have a cold and three days to get rid of a cold. I think I read that somewhere in a book. Probably a Muggle one. Sounds like something they would say.
I fought my way up out of the bed, and realised it was once again Thursday. Meaning all four subjects in one day, albeit short lessons. Hopefully, Thursday the 7th of September wouldn't bring any detentions or points- losses. Hell, I hoped I'd make it through the day without sneezing at my teachers. I'd like to, only once, have a nice, normal week of school. Or at least as nice and normal a week as one could have in the presence of Harry Potter.
In a pile on the floor, hastily discarded late last night, were my clothes. I'd sat up most of the night, writing on my latest Transfiguration assignment, and hadn't gone to bed until well after midnight. I could take a late night though; it was when I went to bed early in the morning that the troubles began to pop up. A cold didn't help very much either, but somehow I managed to make it to the Great Hall without falling down. The one thing that kept me going that far was the thought of coffee in a great big mug, and another one after that. Unfortunately, when I did reach the breakfast table, I noticed almost no one was there anymore. Except Cain, who was hurrying to finish up his breakfast, looking very stressed.
"Cain? Where is everybody?" I asked my voice sounding like I'd eaten gravel and stuffed my nose with cotton. "Why aren't they eating breakfast?"
"Because we have five minutes before class start!" Cain said frantically, "I've got to run!"
He upped and left, trailing parchment all across the Great Hall as he ran. I can't blame him; he's got Transfiguration first thing in the morning on Thursdays, and no one wants to be late for McGonagall's class. I had Arithmancy, at the very top of the castle, in five minutes. Fortunately, it was only one staircase and one hallway away, and if I took the coffee with me, I just might get a decent breakfast before Vector forced Geometrics on us again. I snatched a cup, put a charm on it so that it wouldn't spill over when I ran, and headed for the door as fast as my legs to carry me. Those nights with A Housewife's Guide to Useful Charms had paid off.
I dodged a few late-comers, clutching onto my coffee as if it was a life- saver, which it more or less was, and ran like crazy for the staircase. I'm sure I sent more than one first-year scrambling for the safety of their classrooms. I must have looked might frightening; dishevelled, dressed in an anything but clean shirt (my father's; I never did get those soot-stains out) and running like a madman with a mug of coffee in my hands. I still had about three minutes when I reached the top of the stairs, and was confident that I would reach the classroom on time.
I did, and slipped into my seat about two minutes before Vector entered the room, carrying a stack of papers for us. I curled up in my seat and looked at her blearily. Colds are not a good help if one wishes for good education. I tried to be as unsuspicious as possible as I sipped my coffee, and listened as much as I could to Vector as she rattled off something about how good we were and how proud she was of us. Attention took a holiday after that, and I let my eyes drift over the other students. Granger was glaring at me again. I nodded my head at her and sipped my coffee silently. Wonder why she was glaring at me; I hadn't done anything to insult or hurt her this term, and neither could I remember if I had done anything to her specifically earlier either. Maybe she was still annoyed about having to drag me down to the Great Hall.
Bones was one of the few Hufflepuffs who took Arithmancy, and one of the few Hufflepuffs I'd ever bothered to speak to. They're not bad, as a breed, but I've never seen a reason to talk to them. They're the most reliable people in the world, and I appreciate them greatly; if I had a choice, I'd rather have a Hufflepuff on my side than a Ravenclaw or a Gryffindor. They, at least, won't bury themselves in books and refuse helping me or charge head-straight into trouble. Thank Merlin for the Hufflepuffs, is all I can say.
Vector started handing out the papers, and I ducked into my book-bag to look for my quill. My breakfast, while pretty thin, had gotten my brain working again, and I stared working through the problems as quickly as I could. Some of them were quite complicated, and took some time, but I managed. I didn't get into this class by being stupid, after all. I could hear Bones whistling to herself as she worked the problems out, while Granger was mumbling. Boots was having a whispered conversation with himself and was apparently lost completely in a world of his own. That's a thing I like about Arithmancy class; it's always so quiet.
Arithmancy comes easy to me, but it isn't very enjoyable. I needed it to give me a wide range of occupations to chose from when I graduated though, and so I endured it. I finished my paper and put my quill down. Vector raised her eyebrow, but took it and handed me another one. I sighed. I should have known Vector had more things in store for me. Sometimes, I could swear she makes these things up in the middle of the night, cackling like a madwoman, just so that I won't be able to get a second of rest in class. The teachers are conspiring against me, I swear. Honest.
Let's see, one and one is two, as always, so two times five is ten, divided by thirty-five, times - egads, what is this equation? Vector had given me the mathematical equivalent of insanity. I scratched the back of my head, wondering what I had done to deserve that kind of punishment, before looking up. I needed to distract my brain before dealing with the veritable monster Vector had handed me. I noticed Granger was looking pretty desperate as well, and I figured she'd finished early as well. She was running her hands through her hands and counting on her fingers silently, apparently not getting any sense out of it either. But then she began to scribble furiously; she must have figured out some part of it. I furrowed my brow; there was no way I was letting Granger get ahead of me in Arithmancy. I picked up my quill again and got back to the paper. I would finish this, and I would do so before Granger.
Let's see, I was at ten divided by thirty-five. It didn't get easier after that, but I was determined to finish it. I glanced to my side and saw Granger picking up her quill again and writing. I returned to my paper and scribbled faster. Numbers and fractions swam before my eyes, and I did my best not to mix them up. Just as I was writing the last number down, my quill broke. I ducked down into my bag again and retrieved my reserve-quill and finished the equation and out my quill down at the same time Granger did. I stared at the answer for a moment, before realising there was something wrong with it. It didn't add up properly. I raised my hand, but didn't wait for Vector to say anything before I spoke. Bad manners, but hey, that's me.
"Professor, there's something wrong with this." But I wasn't the only one who had spoken. I looked to my side, and saw Granger with her hand up as well, but now glaring at me. I raised my eyebrow. The Gryffindor shows her claws.
"You solved it that quickly?" Vector smiled, "Whatever shall I do with the two of you? I will have to come up with more difficult assignments, I believe. There is something wrong with it, yes. I am impressed both of you saw it that quickly. Five points for both of your Houses."
I blinked. So I earned five points for figuring a problem was wrong. A grin spread over my face. Neat! I'll have to do that again. Granger glared at me, clearly not happy that I had earned points fairly. I gave her a happy grin, just to annoy her, and turned by attention back to Vector. Say, Arithmancy had its good points, as long as you were allowed to poke fun at Gryffindors.
******'
"So, Blaise, what's your next goal?" Millicent asked me as we wandered off in the direction of the Charms classroom. "You always seem to be having a to-do list somewhere about your person."
"My next goal?" I grinned, "Annoy the hell out of Granger. She takes it personally all the time, and besides, to see her trying to form a reply to an insult when she's so angry that he hair stands on end is pretty funny. Gryffindors are so wonderfully easy to anger, don't you think?"
"That they are," Millicent agreed, "Why Granger though?"
"Because her fists aren't as prone to flying as Weasley's are, and she's easier to handle than Potter." I shrugged, "I don't intend to keep it up for long; just a minor distraction."
We turned a corner in the corridor and walked into the Charms classroom. I had anticipated this lesson greatly; Flitwick had promised to teach us some new Charms that he thought were wonderfully useful. This could only mean good things; Flitwick had yet to deliver a lesson that wasn't at least somewhat interesting. I sat back in my seat and played with my sleeve as we waited for the lesson to start. Granger, Potter and Weasley entered, and Granger glared at me. I threw a piece of paper at her. Weasley looked as if he was going to hit me for a while, but then sat down again. Bah. Boring people.
"Good day, everyone!" Flitwick chirped, cheerful as always, "Today we are going to learn a brand new charm, just invented last year, as a matter of fact; when the incantation is spoken, a small, or large, storm cloud will appear over the receiver's head, and a tiny, or large, rainstorm will break out, depending on how forcefully the caster's wand is flicked. Now, say after me; tempestas."
"Tempestas." We chorused.
We were paired up two and two to try out the new spell on each other, while Flitwick stood to the side, ready with some heating spells if we should succeed. Storms create quite a bit of water when unleashed. I and Millicent practised it, and although it turned out to be only sparks the first few times I tried it, I concentrated more and managed to actually create a tiny rain cloud above her head. Only a few raindrops, but I was nearly jumping with joy of having accomplished the spell, however small, in that short amount of time. I grinned broadly at Millicent, who wrinkled her nose; she didn't like getting her hair wet.
"Right, let's see if I can do the same on you then," She said, pulling out her own wand.
"Oh, Millie, let's not," I realised that a bucket-load of water over my head would not improve my health very much what with the cold and all, "I've got a serious cold, and why don't you go and ask Bones if you can practise with her; she hasn't got anyone to hex."
"Weakling," Millicent laughed before moving off to look for Bones.
I sat down on a chair in the corner of the room, and watched the others. My headache, which had gone away after breakfast, returned again. I dislike being ill; it's annoying, especially having colds, since they don't really hurt or are life-threatening in any way, but are constantly there, blocking my nose, my throat and setting my hearing and my eyesight down a few notches. I sat there, fiddling with a corner of my robes, and tried to distract myself from utter boredom.
"Are you alright Mr Zabini?" Flitwick seemed worried.
"I've caught a bit of a cold, sir," I shrugged. It always paid to be nice to teachers who liked you, and even those who didn't, "Nothing serious, but I thought I'd sit down for a bit."
"Ah. Those are a bit of a bother," Flitwick nodded, "Why don't you go up to see Poppy and ask for some Pepper-Up Potion? You have already accomplished today's lesson, and the homework is only to practise the spell some more. Go ahead now."
"Alright," I nodded and got up. Pepper-Up Potion sounded like a good idea right now anyway.
*******'
Madam Pomfrey is strange; she spends all her time up in the hospital wing, rolling bandages, preparing beds and waiting for the next patient to call in sick. The only time she leaves that place is to go to the Quidditch- games, and then only because she has to stand by in case something happens. I like her though; there's never anyone as helpful when you're sick. There must have been a distinct lack of patients this term, because she swooped down on me as soon as I took a step inside the door, and was ushered off to sit on a newly-made bed. A cup of the smoking potion was pushed into my hands, and she stood there with her arms crossed, waiting for me to drink up. I did.
"What have you done to land yourself with a cold, Mr Zabini?" She asked, arcing one eyebrow.
"I was flying in the rain," I tried not to look like a guilty little boy, but I guess I failed.
"Why were you flying in the rain?"
"Because it's fun?"
"Ah." Ouch, that sounded ominous. Note to self; never go flying in the rain if there's any danger of catching a cold. Madam Pomfrey's glaring isn't nice to be at the receiving end of.
I was ordered to stay in bed for about half an hour, just for the potion to take effect. That left me about fifteen minutes free before Defence. Ample time to worry about what Lucas would do to me this time. I hoped I didn't have to clean out the Owlry again. Lucas had chosen me as his own personal target, of that I was certain. And I'd never done anything to him. Ten minutes ticked by. I couldn't take lying down without reading or something, and sighed.
"Madam Pomfrey?" I called.
"Yes?"
"Do I have to lie still for half an hour?" I looked at her pleadingly, "I'm going to go crazy, and I know you'll hate to have to deal with a basket case. I'll go straight to class, and sit down and not move for at least an hour. Can I go now?"
"You will get yourself in trouble, Mr Zabini," She shook her head, but let me go. Yes! Zabini, 1, Pomfrey, 0. I was good at this game. "But if you ever show up her with a cold due to flying in the rain, I'm going to show you the door and laugh at you."
"And don't you forget it!" She called after me as I headed down the corridor.
I shook my head and snorted. She certainly was a character, that Poppy Pomfrey. Who names their child Poppy anyway? Other than a Herbology-raging Hufflepuff, I mean. Honestly, naming ones daughter after a tree is just cruel. I turned a corner, whistling to myself, unconsciously choosing a song from the Muggle CD I'd bought during summer. There was something about those guitar-solos that stuck in my mind. I didn't consider them the best music ever created, but they weren't bad, and as mentioned, they stuck.
I reached the classroom way before anyone else did, and settled myself into a seat at the back, where I could pull my legs up and rest my arms on my knees and my back against the wall, and still see the front of the classroom clearly, and hopefully without being disturbed by Lucas or anyone else. While the Pepper-Up Potion had helped, I was nowhere near being cured of my cold. My head still hurt, and my brain wasn't what it was. It never had been, as Millicent would have told me. I drifted off into half-asleep state, and stared vacantly at the blackboard. Sickness did odd things to my brain.
Lucas was an odd fellow; he hadn't erased the phrase he'd written the first day of lessons yet, and I had a feeling that it would be written there until he left. He'd never really told us anything other than the fact that it had to do with Defence, and the things he believed it to be. It had no relation whatsoever with what we were learning this term. He had some strange ideas, that Vincent Lucas. He'd told us nothing about himself other than his name, but it rang a bell in my mind. If only I could find the string the bell was attached to, then I might get some idea about who he was. If I had the energy to do it.
We had Defence three times a week; Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, with the Thursday lesson being the shortest, only an hour long. This was our fourth Defence lesson, and I had yet to learn something new. No new curses, no new dark creatures. Maybe we would today. Lucas had only put us though senseless assignments, such as writing about that phrase and a short re- telling of our meeting with the Boggart. Senseless, stupid things, which would not make us able to defend ourselves. He had yet to be true to his words on the second day. I'd ask him, but I didn't want detention.
I flipped my book open, at a random page, and began reading about Manticores. Not the most enthralling reading I've ever done, but I needed to keep myself awake. This was certainly more interesting than the lessons we'd been having with Lucas. From the book, at least, I could learn what the weak spots of a Manticore were, and should I ever be faced with one, I would be able to remember it. If I ever faced a Manticore, poetry I'd read wasn't going to make a difference.
It was only gradually that I became aware of someone else in the room with me. Someone who was sitting next to me silently. I don't know how I knew, but I did; there was a kind of presence that you don't feel if you're alone in the room. Even ghosts are detectable that way. I'd always been able to tell, somehow, if I was alone or not. I flipped another page, not looking to my side, calmly continuing to read. There was no reason to get excited or angry; one tends to forget hexes when one gets worked up.
"What is it?" I mumbled, directing my question at the other person.
"Why are you in my classroom this early, Mr Zabini?"
Ah, Lucas. I should have known. It as, as he said, his classroom after all. Why shouldn't he be here? I began on the chapter about old Egyptian magic, still not looking at him. I contemplated not replying, since he was probably going to take points off me for talking back to him, but chose to speak anyway, since he would certainly find a reason to take points if I didn't answer.
"Because I was allowed to leave the hospital wing early and because I didn't feel like sitting in the corridor." I replied, "And because the chairs in this classroom are so much more comfortable than those in the library."
"Why were you in the hospital wing?" That nagging, halfway curious tone.
"I have a cold."
"Why aren't you in bed then? You should not have come to class if you have a cold." Condescending now; it annoyed me.
"Because I didn't feel like staying in bed, and because it was my own damned stupidity that got me the cold, and I'll be damned before I let it win." Yes, strange reasoning. I'd love to get a look of his face when he tries to figure that one out, "And because I didn't want to miss my Defence class. Not that we learn anything useful in it."
"You don't?" Quiet, dangerous.
"No. I have yet to realise how we are going to defend ourselves with the knowledge you have given us." I finally looked at him. He did not, as I had expected, look as if he was on the verge of strangling me. There was a hint of anger in his expression, but he was sitting calmly in his seat, looking at me, "I enjoy poetry, I really do, and fiction is a favourite pastime of mine, but other than throwing a book at a Dark Creature and knocking him out, I don't see a use for it in Defence."
"Ah. You think I should be teaching you curses, do you not?" Lucas nodded to himself.
"No, I don't; curses aren't going to help me much, since I know pretty much all of the ones allowed for students. I didn't spend the weekends doing nothing, you know," I interrupted, "While Potter was hiding away somewhere, teaching stunning spells to the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws and his little friends, while he was trying to teach them the Patronus Charm, I was in the dungeons with the fifth, sixth and seventh years, duelling. I'm the Slytherin House Duelling Champion. I know those curses better than anyone else does, and thanks to Potter, the others know enough to save themselves if attacked by a vicious badger, but that won't be enough, will it? I'll manage, but they won't. Patronus Charms will only get you so far. Millie knows enough, I know enough to manage, but they don't."
Phew, I haven't spoken that much at one time in ages now. Last time I did was in my acceptance speech for the Slytherin Duelling House Cup. Useful trinket that is; it's an old banner, worn so thin that if I held it up to the sky, I would be able to count the stars through it. Zarias Bletchley told me the old legend about it once belonging to old Slytherin himself, over a thousand years ago. It's certainly dusty enough for it to be believable.
"What, exactly, are you proposing I do, Mr Zabini?" Lucas was actually looking interested now.
"Do what Lockhart failed to do," I shrugged, "Even with Snape's helping, or rather unhelping hand; a duelling club. A duelling course, call it what you will. I'm certain the whole of Hogwarts would sign up for it if you put out a sign-up. I'd suggest you don't; you don't want too many people there at once. Teach the sixth, seventh, and maybe the fifth years how to duel properly, teach them some more dangerous spells, and maybe they won't feel so nervous anymore. It's easier to feel safe when you can defend yourself. And it's easier to sleep if you're not afraid. It's easier to keep sane."
Lucas's eyebrows should have disappeared into his hairline and never come down, but they didn't. He should, by all rights, have told me off for suggesting such a thing, or failing that, should have asked me where I got that crazy idea. But he didn't. He must have planned that already; he must have thought of teaching us how to duel. I just knew it.
"That," He said, "Is the sanest idea I have heard since I stepped through the door of this castle. An idea that might actually work. And it shall begin tomorrow. Today, we will be reading in our books, as a preparation. You are wise for someone so young, Mr Zabini."
I blinked, both at the acceptance and the unexpected compliment. Well, he always was odd, that Lucas. I returned to my book, sinking into the descriptions about Egyptian curses placed on the tombs, and drifted away from the world around me.
*****'
Ending Notes; *gasp* A duelling club! Will this all end in tears? Will it be a success? And most importantly, will Blaise ever get to have a normal school week? We'll see in the coming chapter...