Snape's disappearance affected everyone, not only the Slytherins, although
we were the ones who took it hardest. The Potions students were without a
teacher, Slytherin without a Head of House, and the school without a
Potions Master. Teaching-wise, it didn't affect me, but my uncle going
missing suddenly wasn't exactly comforting. Of course, my mind immediately
went to the possibility that he might have been taken, but I dismissed it.
Snape was much too difficult to kidnap like that, and Dumbledore didn't
seem too worried when he announced the disappearance. Well, he did sound
worried, but not "Snape-might-be-dead-and-gone" worried.
Lucas as our temporary Head of House would take some getting used to, but he had an advantage of seeming to have known Snape personally before he came to teach. He'd come and introduced himself to everyone who hadn't met him yet, and after some long-winded explanations, the Slytherins accepted him in lack of a better alternative. Partly it was because Lucas has made clear he would never blatantly favour us, partly because some of them suspected he'd offed Snape to get the Head of House status. Dumb accusations, sure, but Slytherins had always been prone to see plots around every corner and even more so when unbalanced from normal routines.
All students were more careful; two people had gone missing, both Slytherins, so it was obvious anyone could be taken. When even Snape disappeared without a trace, it somehow became more real. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were jumping at shadows, while most Gryffindors turned their attention towards us Slytherins. Some snatches of conversations between them, overheard by Millicent and Cain and discussed in the Common Room revealed that they thought that somehow Slytherins were behind the takings, and specifically Draco. Silly ideas they had. Draco didn't have the sense of organisation that was needed to get quickly in and out of a place and snatch someone away at the same time without being discovered.
The Unholy Trinity was leading the suspicion against Slytherins, and Weasley was worst. Potter restricted himself to some glaring and muttered accusations, which wasn't exactly unreasonable. He didn't blame Draco directly, but the Death Eaters Malfoy Senior had been one of. How he found that out puzzled me but he knew and made some logical assumptions. Wrong, but still logical. Granger would watch Slytherins, as if trying to work something out, and would often scribble something on a piece of parchment. A list perhaps. Weasley would go a lot farther than scribbling and glaring. He was openly hostile.
He would pick fights with us, and insult us even if we didn't even look his way. He sent Cain running back to the Common Room one day, and I had to spend an hour calming the boy down, stop him crying and try to get him to uncurl from his foetal position in the corner beside the fireplace. When he assaulted Millicent, who was unprepared and couldn't defend herself and only got out of it because Gaspar happened to pass, I lost my temper. Millicent, unbreakable, stable and cynic Millicent had been sobbing when she came back. I lost it, and went hunting.
*****'
"Blaise, this isn't a good idea."
I ignored Draco's attempt at good advice and continued leafing through my Charms book, looking for spells to add to my arsenal. I'd geared up for revenge on Weasley, and was sure I could easily kill him if I wanted. However, I only wanted to maim him badly for what he had done, was still doing, and Draco wasn't likely to stop me. Weasley had made two of my best friends cry, he had dared to touch Slytherin. Anger was far from what I was feeling. Furious would be more like it. Insane would be a fit word for my state of mind as well.
"Weasley is a mean fighter, even if he isn't the best dueller." Draco moved to stand beside me, "And even if you beat him, Potter is going to kill you."
"I beat Potter before," I replied, looking through the index of freezing spells.
"That was in a duel, and he was alone. This time he's likely to have the rest of the House with him, plus Granger, and you know she isn't harmless." He sounded almost desperate. "She may be a Mudblood, but she's capable of hexing you six ways to hell."
"She's frightening when she's mad, I'll give you that." I nodded distractedly.
"Blaise, don't do this." Draco pleaded, "You'll be going to the hospital wing in a matchbox!"
"The only one going anywhere in a matchbox is Weasley," I said, snapping the book shut. "He sent both Cain and Millicent into hysterics, Draco. I'm not going to tolerate that."
"Go to Lucas then!" He snapped.
"I can't. This is something I have to handle personally," I turned and headed towards the door of the dormitory, "Even Lucas understands that."
I shut the door in his face, and descended the stairs. It was around lunch- time, so everyone was either eating, or having the last few minutes of their lessons. The only one present in the Common Room was Agnes Lestrange. She saw me coming down the stairs, and stood up. I halted, wondering what she wanted. She was a very private person, and the only one she really talked to was Theo. What she wanted with me was a mystery.
"You're going after him aren't you?" She asked. It wasn't really a question; she knew the answer already. I nodded. "I'm coming with you."
"Why in the world would you do that?" I was surprised. She never showed interest in helping me before. "Weasley isn't harmless, and even if you're smart you're still only a third year. He's a sixth year and he's faced down Death Eaters."
"You're only a sixth year, and you've never faced Death Eaters." She pointed out logically, "Besides, I'm coming with you since no student is allowed outside the Common Room alone, no matter what the time of day. If you happen upon a teacher alone, you won't be able to find an explanation good enough. If I'm there, we'll only have to say we were going to or from lunch. Simple as that."
"Well." I paused, uncertain how to phrase myself, "Thank you Agnes, I would appreciate that. But once the fight starts, keep out of the way."
"Don't worry, I will." She nodded, and then held out her hand silently. I shook it and we headed out the door, to go Weasley hunting.
******'
We didn't need to excuse ourselves once on our way to find Weasley. Teachers and prefects seemed to assume that if two students went somewhere together, it was all right, even if they were Slytherins. Agnes had learned somewhere how to keep a perfectly straight and innocent face, even though she was helping someone maim a Weasley. I had never had an innocent face, but I could keep a straight one. Apparently, it was enough, and we could go look for our target in peace.
We found him easily. Unfortunately, he was in the middle of a group of Gryffindors, which included Granger, Potter, Thomas and the little Weasley. Quite the formidable group, and quite difficult to get rid of. We had a problem on our hands. Paradoxically, it was Weasley who solved it for us. He looked up and spotted us standing by the doorway, where the Charm- corridor met the one coming from the Divination-classroom. A cold and almost hating look appeared on his face, startling even me. I'd expected anger, and suspicion, but not outright hate.
"Oh look, the Slytherins has decided to come out of their dungeon," He sneered, "I wonder who they'll take away this time."
Everyone hushed, and glared at us, even though compared to Weasley they were half-hearted at best. Granger didn't even glare at us. She just stared thoughtfully, though a bit apprehensive, and kept quiet. Potter seemed torn between saying something to agree with Weasley, or back down. My win over him in the duel appeared to have made him less prone to underestimate me or other Slytherins. Agnes tensed beside me. It was obvious she wanted to retort, but kept true to her word and stayed back from the brewing fight.
"Stupid git," I muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.
"What did you call me?" Weasley demanded, stepping out of his little group of friends, right into the spot where I wanted him to be. I clutched my wand in my pocket.
"He called you a stupid git," Agnes said, stepping in front of me.
Uh-oh. Not rehearsed. What the hell was she doing? She'd said she'd keep out of it. Bloody nosy, self-destructive Agnes Lestrange. If she'd kept out of it, she mightn't gotten the brunt of Weasley's hate, but she just had to go and talk back to him. I ran through some spells in my mind, just in case I had to step in, but for now I would let Agnes handle herself.
"Look, he gets his girlfriend to defend him. How sweet," Weasley sneered, "You Slytherin bitches need to learn how to behave yourselves."
Suddenly, my blood ran cold. How dare he? I saw Agnes's shoulders tense, and her hands twitched. My own hands twitched, and for a split-second I wanted to strangle him. Agnes was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but Weasley was a little more than she could handle. The Gryffindors must have seen the look on my face, because they all stepped back, and suddenly looked uncertain.
"And I suppose you Gryffindors are saints, every last one of you?" Agnes's voice oozed contempt.
"We're better than you Slytherins, that's for sure," Weasley snapped, "I can't believe Dumbledore even lets you go to Hogwarts any more; everyone knows you're the ones who made Snape disappear. You're all going to be bloody Death Eaters when you graduate. Sleeping with the teachers is the only way you lot get good grades."
"Ron!" Granger exclaimed, horrified. "How could you?"
"Agnes, get out of the way," I said quietly. One look at my face had her hurriedly stepping away and standing beside Granger. "Weasley, you have gone too far. You went too far when you assaulted Millie. You went too far when you made Cain have an hysterical breakdown. You went too far with your accusations now. Either you apologise now and never do anything like that again, or I will be forced to hurt you."
I could feel my constant headache building up to almost unbearable levels. Weasley shook his head, and opened his mouth to undoubtedly deliver another insult at me, and I snapped. I'd socked him in the jaw before I even knew what happened. Magic and wands were far from my mind at that moment, and hitting him was so much more satisfying. But he hit me back, and for a moment I saw stars. Just like the Hogwarts Express incident earlier that year, and it made my head hurt even more. He hit me in the ribs, and I heard something snap.
Far off, I could hear both Agnes and Granger shouting at us. I tried to control myself, and pulled back. Unfortunately, this gave Weasley the opportunity he had been waiting for, and he put every ounce of strength he had behind one blow, which made me black out. I was only out for a couple of seconds, but long enough for prefects and teachers to arrive, and long enough to have Agnes trying to take out Weasley by herself. Coming to, I realised I was lying on my side on the floor, arms clutching my ribs and hands twitching. A dry, weak cough was echoing in the chaos around me. My mind wasn't working properly, magnifying some sounds and tuning out others, so it took a while before I realised I was the one coughing.
A cool hand on my forehead, voices above me, someone hauling me upright. The unbearable pain of my ribs. Someone getting me up on my feet, and leading me away. Agnes's voice arguing that Weasley was a complete and utter prat in the background. Weasley sounding as if he was trying to defend himself, and failing utterly. McGonagall's stern voice lecturing everyone. The blinding whiteness of the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey saying something about how horrible it was that I'd end up this way in one of her beds again. McGonagall coming into the infirmary, demanding to know why I'd assaulted one of her precious Gryffindors. And through it all, my unbearable headache.
Suddenly, my mind cleared, although my headache remained. I opened my eyes again, and looked into the worried face of Madame Pomfrey. She smiled when she met my gaze, and put a hand on my forehead, turning my head this way and that, probably inspecting my bruises. I winced when the sunlight streamed into the window, directly into my eyes.
"Where does it hurt?" She asked.
"Would everywhere be specific enough for you?" I asked, my voice rusty. She smiled a bit, but shook her head, "It feels like I've got some old bruises on my ribcage, and a few in my face, but other than that the only thing that's bothering me is my raging headache."
"I'll give you a potion for that, and then you're good to go," She grinned at me, "I don't want you to become a regular here, no matter how much I might like the company."
"Thank you Madame Pomfrey. I appreciate it." I sat up.
One potion later, and I was out of the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey didn't really want me to go, but joked about her getting too attached to someone who would only end up in the infirmary as a bleeding mess again, and let me go. However, I hadn't gotten further than a few steps before a Hufflepuff prefect, I forget his name, came up to me.
"What?"
"Professor Lucas wants to see you in his office." The Hufflepuff said timidly, before hurrying away down the corridor.
Rolling my eyes, I started down the corridor to the left, knowing all too well what Lucas wanted. My last detention had been with Sinistra, who had made me polish telescopes for a full two hours before she let me go, and I wondered what it would be this time. Hopefully not with McGonagall or Flich. Both of them disliked me greatly, especially now after I had fought with Weasley in the corridors. By definition, this was a bad situation, but at the moment, I couldn't care less. I had done what any good Slytherin should have, and if they were going to give me detention for it, then so be it.
******'
"You've earned yourself another detention Zabini." Lucas informed me tiredly.
"I hadn't noticed," I replied dryly. Despite the potion, my headache still raged. It mustn't have kicked in yet.
"You assaulted Mr Weasley in front of a rather large audience, and threw the first blow. Mr Weasley insists that you did so completely unprovoked, and that you threatened to kill him. He goes on to insist that he had turned his back on you when you punched him, and that you attempted to kill him by strangling him:" Lucas read from the parchment in front of him.
During his reciting, I'd grown more and more angry, and by the end of it, I was furious again, just like I'd been a few hours ago. My head started to throb, and as I opened my mouth to tell him the true story, a wave of nausea so strong that I lurched forward hit me. I tried to brace myself, but my fingers grasped only air and then my fingertips were brushing the floor. Lucas called out something, but I could hear him for the pounding of my headache and the rush of blood in my ears.
Then, all hell broke loose.
I could hear wood splinter and glass shatter around me. The assignments stacked on Lucas's desk was violently thrown off the desktop by some unknown force, and his books went the same way. One of them hit me on the shoulder, and it felt like it was dislocated; it sent me to my knees on the floor, and I shut my eyes tight in pain. I heard the echoes of a scream. Detachedly, I realised it was my own voice screaming, but the pain in my head was too great to concentrate on anything else. It felt as if someone had taken my mind and ripped it in shreds, and violently forced it together again. As if someone was taking control over it, and forcibly so.
Someone was shaking my shoulders, and I was too far gone to know who it was. A shouted spell, almost mute in the racket around me. My mind returned suddenly to its normal state, and everything stopped. It just.... stopped. The wood stopped splintering, and the glass shards stopped flying around. Slowly, I opened my eyes again. A cut beneath one of them stung sharply, and my eyes filled with tears at the pain. The nausea faded, but my headache remained strong. Exhausted as I was, worn out both by the fight with Weasley and the sudden and unexplained attack just a few moments, tears began slipping down my face, against my will.
Too tired to stop the tears from falling, too tired to care that I was crying in front of Lucas, I curled up with my back against the wall, my face against my knees and sobbed. My shoulders shook, and the tears stung like hell as they ran over the cut just below my eye, but I didn't even bother to try and choke them back. Too much had happened in too short time, and my pounding headache had crumbled my self-control down to almost nothing. Sobs racked my body, and I was shaking violently, all the while listening to Lucas picking things up from the floor.
A normal teacher would have asked what the hell had happened. A normal teacher would have been shaking me and demanding for me to explain. But Lucas wasn't a normal teacher. He moved around his office silently and cleaned up, before turning to me. He sat down on the floor in front of me, still not speaking. A normal teacher would have tried to speak to me, but Lucas wasn't a normal teacher. He just sat there, a hand on my head and said nothing as I cried. Somehow, it was better that way. If he had talked to me, I would have been forced to be embarrassed over my tears. When he was silent, I could imagine that he didn't really pay attention to what I was doing and didn't know I was crying. It was easier that way. A hand on my head and silence, instead of shoulder-shaking and soothing words.
After what seemed like hours, I was finally able to calm down again, and stop sobbing. But I still kept curled up, arms shielding me from the world, in a strange mirroring of Cain's position on the floor of the Slytherin Common Room a week and a half earlier. Slowly, bit by bit, I could start relaxing, and lifted my head to rest it against the wall. I opened my eyes and stared straight at Lucas, who had lifted his hand away. Red eyes were even more serious than they had been when I had been called into his office. I couldn't find my voice, couldn't ask what happened, and simply waited in silence. Much too tired to stand up, there wasn't much else to do.
"It appears you will be going back to the hospital wing once more, Zabini." Lucas said quietly after a few minutes.
He gave me a hand up, and on shaking legs and trembling knees we made our way back to the hospital wing. My head was buzzing, and my sight blurry, but somehow I managed to put one foot in front of the other, with Lucas' help. Madame Pomfrey's face appeared before my blurry eyes, before everything went black again.
I was vaguely aware of everything, even though I couldn't see anything. Pomfrey ordered Lucas to get me to the closest bed, and he must have picked me up, because my bruised ribs hurt. Someone tucked me into bed, and a potion was forced down my throat. The pain started to fade, and my headache faded into almost nothing. As soon as I woke up properly again I would have to thank Madame Pomfrey sincerely for being such an excellent mediwitch. I drifted off as someone's hands were investigating the cut under my eye, and slept properly for the first time in a long time.
However, I didn't sleep peacefully. I kept waking up during the night, but never fully and had a strange delirious feeling each time. Someone was sitting in a chair next to the bed, and each time I opened my eyes, I was lulled back to sleep by words I didn't recognise. All sounds were muffled, as if I was hearing them through a thick wall, and I gave up trying to make sense and just listened. Each time I fell back to sleep, and would sleep for perhaps another hour before waking up again. It was a restless night, but I didn't mind. I hardly had enough energy to lift a finger, much less wonder why my mind was acting like it was.
And so I slept on.
*******'
Ending Notes; this is turning out completely different from what I imagined, but it's much better this way so I'm not protesting.
I apologise for going so long without updating, but I haven't been able to do anything but come home from school, do my homework and fall asleep. Weekends were spent sleeping or doing homework. March wasn't a nice month.
Lucas as our temporary Head of House would take some getting used to, but he had an advantage of seeming to have known Snape personally before he came to teach. He'd come and introduced himself to everyone who hadn't met him yet, and after some long-winded explanations, the Slytherins accepted him in lack of a better alternative. Partly it was because Lucas has made clear he would never blatantly favour us, partly because some of them suspected he'd offed Snape to get the Head of House status. Dumb accusations, sure, but Slytherins had always been prone to see plots around every corner and even more so when unbalanced from normal routines.
All students were more careful; two people had gone missing, both Slytherins, so it was obvious anyone could be taken. When even Snape disappeared without a trace, it somehow became more real. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were jumping at shadows, while most Gryffindors turned their attention towards us Slytherins. Some snatches of conversations between them, overheard by Millicent and Cain and discussed in the Common Room revealed that they thought that somehow Slytherins were behind the takings, and specifically Draco. Silly ideas they had. Draco didn't have the sense of organisation that was needed to get quickly in and out of a place and snatch someone away at the same time without being discovered.
The Unholy Trinity was leading the suspicion against Slytherins, and Weasley was worst. Potter restricted himself to some glaring and muttered accusations, which wasn't exactly unreasonable. He didn't blame Draco directly, but the Death Eaters Malfoy Senior had been one of. How he found that out puzzled me but he knew and made some logical assumptions. Wrong, but still logical. Granger would watch Slytherins, as if trying to work something out, and would often scribble something on a piece of parchment. A list perhaps. Weasley would go a lot farther than scribbling and glaring. He was openly hostile.
He would pick fights with us, and insult us even if we didn't even look his way. He sent Cain running back to the Common Room one day, and I had to spend an hour calming the boy down, stop him crying and try to get him to uncurl from his foetal position in the corner beside the fireplace. When he assaulted Millicent, who was unprepared and couldn't defend herself and only got out of it because Gaspar happened to pass, I lost my temper. Millicent, unbreakable, stable and cynic Millicent had been sobbing when she came back. I lost it, and went hunting.
*****'
"Blaise, this isn't a good idea."
I ignored Draco's attempt at good advice and continued leafing through my Charms book, looking for spells to add to my arsenal. I'd geared up for revenge on Weasley, and was sure I could easily kill him if I wanted. However, I only wanted to maim him badly for what he had done, was still doing, and Draco wasn't likely to stop me. Weasley had made two of my best friends cry, he had dared to touch Slytherin. Anger was far from what I was feeling. Furious would be more like it. Insane would be a fit word for my state of mind as well.
"Weasley is a mean fighter, even if he isn't the best dueller." Draco moved to stand beside me, "And even if you beat him, Potter is going to kill you."
"I beat Potter before," I replied, looking through the index of freezing spells.
"That was in a duel, and he was alone. This time he's likely to have the rest of the House with him, plus Granger, and you know she isn't harmless." He sounded almost desperate. "She may be a Mudblood, but she's capable of hexing you six ways to hell."
"She's frightening when she's mad, I'll give you that." I nodded distractedly.
"Blaise, don't do this." Draco pleaded, "You'll be going to the hospital wing in a matchbox!"
"The only one going anywhere in a matchbox is Weasley," I said, snapping the book shut. "He sent both Cain and Millicent into hysterics, Draco. I'm not going to tolerate that."
"Go to Lucas then!" He snapped.
"I can't. This is something I have to handle personally," I turned and headed towards the door of the dormitory, "Even Lucas understands that."
I shut the door in his face, and descended the stairs. It was around lunch- time, so everyone was either eating, or having the last few minutes of their lessons. The only one present in the Common Room was Agnes Lestrange. She saw me coming down the stairs, and stood up. I halted, wondering what she wanted. She was a very private person, and the only one she really talked to was Theo. What she wanted with me was a mystery.
"You're going after him aren't you?" She asked. It wasn't really a question; she knew the answer already. I nodded. "I'm coming with you."
"Why in the world would you do that?" I was surprised. She never showed interest in helping me before. "Weasley isn't harmless, and even if you're smart you're still only a third year. He's a sixth year and he's faced down Death Eaters."
"You're only a sixth year, and you've never faced Death Eaters." She pointed out logically, "Besides, I'm coming with you since no student is allowed outside the Common Room alone, no matter what the time of day. If you happen upon a teacher alone, you won't be able to find an explanation good enough. If I'm there, we'll only have to say we were going to or from lunch. Simple as that."
"Well." I paused, uncertain how to phrase myself, "Thank you Agnes, I would appreciate that. But once the fight starts, keep out of the way."
"Don't worry, I will." She nodded, and then held out her hand silently. I shook it and we headed out the door, to go Weasley hunting.
******'
We didn't need to excuse ourselves once on our way to find Weasley. Teachers and prefects seemed to assume that if two students went somewhere together, it was all right, even if they were Slytherins. Agnes had learned somewhere how to keep a perfectly straight and innocent face, even though she was helping someone maim a Weasley. I had never had an innocent face, but I could keep a straight one. Apparently, it was enough, and we could go look for our target in peace.
We found him easily. Unfortunately, he was in the middle of a group of Gryffindors, which included Granger, Potter, Thomas and the little Weasley. Quite the formidable group, and quite difficult to get rid of. We had a problem on our hands. Paradoxically, it was Weasley who solved it for us. He looked up and spotted us standing by the doorway, where the Charm- corridor met the one coming from the Divination-classroom. A cold and almost hating look appeared on his face, startling even me. I'd expected anger, and suspicion, but not outright hate.
"Oh look, the Slytherins has decided to come out of their dungeon," He sneered, "I wonder who they'll take away this time."
Everyone hushed, and glared at us, even though compared to Weasley they were half-hearted at best. Granger didn't even glare at us. She just stared thoughtfully, though a bit apprehensive, and kept quiet. Potter seemed torn between saying something to agree with Weasley, or back down. My win over him in the duel appeared to have made him less prone to underestimate me or other Slytherins. Agnes tensed beside me. It was obvious she wanted to retort, but kept true to her word and stayed back from the brewing fight.
"Stupid git," I muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.
"What did you call me?" Weasley demanded, stepping out of his little group of friends, right into the spot where I wanted him to be. I clutched my wand in my pocket.
"He called you a stupid git," Agnes said, stepping in front of me.
Uh-oh. Not rehearsed. What the hell was she doing? She'd said she'd keep out of it. Bloody nosy, self-destructive Agnes Lestrange. If she'd kept out of it, she mightn't gotten the brunt of Weasley's hate, but she just had to go and talk back to him. I ran through some spells in my mind, just in case I had to step in, but for now I would let Agnes handle herself.
"Look, he gets his girlfriend to defend him. How sweet," Weasley sneered, "You Slytherin bitches need to learn how to behave yourselves."
Suddenly, my blood ran cold. How dare he? I saw Agnes's shoulders tense, and her hands twitched. My own hands twitched, and for a split-second I wanted to strangle him. Agnes was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but Weasley was a little more than she could handle. The Gryffindors must have seen the look on my face, because they all stepped back, and suddenly looked uncertain.
"And I suppose you Gryffindors are saints, every last one of you?" Agnes's voice oozed contempt.
"We're better than you Slytherins, that's for sure," Weasley snapped, "I can't believe Dumbledore even lets you go to Hogwarts any more; everyone knows you're the ones who made Snape disappear. You're all going to be bloody Death Eaters when you graduate. Sleeping with the teachers is the only way you lot get good grades."
"Ron!" Granger exclaimed, horrified. "How could you?"
"Agnes, get out of the way," I said quietly. One look at my face had her hurriedly stepping away and standing beside Granger. "Weasley, you have gone too far. You went too far when you assaulted Millie. You went too far when you made Cain have an hysterical breakdown. You went too far with your accusations now. Either you apologise now and never do anything like that again, or I will be forced to hurt you."
I could feel my constant headache building up to almost unbearable levels. Weasley shook his head, and opened his mouth to undoubtedly deliver another insult at me, and I snapped. I'd socked him in the jaw before I even knew what happened. Magic and wands were far from my mind at that moment, and hitting him was so much more satisfying. But he hit me back, and for a moment I saw stars. Just like the Hogwarts Express incident earlier that year, and it made my head hurt even more. He hit me in the ribs, and I heard something snap.
Far off, I could hear both Agnes and Granger shouting at us. I tried to control myself, and pulled back. Unfortunately, this gave Weasley the opportunity he had been waiting for, and he put every ounce of strength he had behind one blow, which made me black out. I was only out for a couple of seconds, but long enough for prefects and teachers to arrive, and long enough to have Agnes trying to take out Weasley by herself. Coming to, I realised I was lying on my side on the floor, arms clutching my ribs and hands twitching. A dry, weak cough was echoing in the chaos around me. My mind wasn't working properly, magnifying some sounds and tuning out others, so it took a while before I realised I was the one coughing.
A cool hand on my forehead, voices above me, someone hauling me upright. The unbearable pain of my ribs. Someone getting me up on my feet, and leading me away. Agnes's voice arguing that Weasley was a complete and utter prat in the background. Weasley sounding as if he was trying to defend himself, and failing utterly. McGonagall's stern voice lecturing everyone. The blinding whiteness of the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey saying something about how horrible it was that I'd end up this way in one of her beds again. McGonagall coming into the infirmary, demanding to know why I'd assaulted one of her precious Gryffindors. And through it all, my unbearable headache.
Suddenly, my mind cleared, although my headache remained. I opened my eyes again, and looked into the worried face of Madame Pomfrey. She smiled when she met my gaze, and put a hand on my forehead, turning my head this way and that, probably inspecting my bruises. I winced when the sunlight streamed into the window, directly into my eyes.
"Where does it hurt?" She asked.
"Would everywhere be specific enough for you?" I asked, my voice rusty. She smiled a bit, but shook her head, "It feels like I've got some old bruises on my ribcage, and a few in my face, but other than that the only thing that's bothering me is my raging headache."
"I'll give you a potion for that, and then you're good to go," She grinned at me, "I don't want you to become a regular here, no matter how much I might like the company."
"Thank you Madame Pomfrey. I appreciate it." I sat up.
One potion later, and I was out of the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey didn't really want me to go, but joked about her getting too attached to someone who would only end up in the infirmary as a bleeding mess again, and let me go. However, I hadn't gotten further than a few steps before a Hufflepuff prefect, I forget his name, came up to me.
"What?"
"Professor Lucas wants to see you in his office." The Hufflepuff said timidly, before hurrying away down the corridor.
Rolling my eyes, I started down the corridor to the left, knowing all too well what Lucas wanted. My last detention had been with Sinistra, who had made me polish telescopes for a full two hours before she let me go, and I wondered what it would be this time. Hopefully not with McGonagall or Flich. Both of them disliked me greatly, especially now after I had fought with Weasley in the corridors. By definition, this was a bad situation, but at the moment, I couldn't care less. I had done what any good Slytherin should have, and if they were going to give me detention for it, then so be it.
******'
"You've earned yourself another detention Zabini." Lucas informed me tiredly.
"I hadn't noticed," I replied dryly. Despite the potion, my headache still raged. It mustn't have kicked in yet.
"You assaulted Mr Weasley in front of a rather large audience, and threw the first blow. Mr Weasley insists that you did so completely unprovoked, and that you threatened to kill him. He goes on to insist that he had turned his back on you when you punched him, and that you attempted to kill him by strangling him:" Lucas read from the parchment in front of him.
During his reciting, I'd grown more and more angry, and by the end of it, I was furious again, just like I'd been a few hours ago. My head started to throb, and as I opened my mouth to tell him the true story, a wave of nausea so strong that I lurched forward hit me. I tried to brace myself, but my fingers grasped only air and then my fingertips were brushing the floor. Lucas called out something, but I could hear him for the pounding of my headache and the rush of blood in my ears.
Then, all hell broke loose.
I could hear wood splinter and glass shatter around me. The assignments stacked on Lucas's desk was violently thrown off the desktop by some unknown force, and his books went the same way. One of them hit me on the shoulder, and it felt like it was dislocated; it sent me to my knees on the floor, and I shut my eyes tight in pain. I heard the echoes of a scream. Detachedly, I realised it was my own voice screaming, but the pain in my head was too great to concentrate on anything else. It felt as if someone had taken my mind and ripped it in shreds, and violently forced it together again. As if someone was taking control over it, and forcibly so.
Someone was shaking my shoulders, and I was too far gone to know who it was. A shouted spell, almost mute in the racket around me. My mind returned suddenly to its normal state, and everything stopped. It just.... stopped. The wood stopped splintering, and the glass shards stopped flying around. Slowly, I opened my eyes again. A cut beneath one of them stung sharply, and my eyes filled with tears at the pain. The nausea faded, but my headache remained strong. Exhausted as I was, worn out both by the fight with Weasley and the sudden and unexplained attack just a few moments, tears began slipping down my face, against my will.
Too tired to stop the tears from falling, too tired to care that I was crying in front of Lucas, I curled up with my back against the wall, my face against my knees and sobbed. My shoulders shook, and the tears stung like hell as they ran over the cut just below my eye, but I didn't even bother to try and choke them back. Too much had happened in too short time, and my pounding headache had crumbled my self-control down to almost nothing. Sobs racked my body, and I was shaking violently, all the while listening to Lucas picking things up from the floor.
A normal teacher would have asked what the hell had happened. A normal teacher would have been shaking me and demanding for me to explain. But Lucas wasn't a normal teacher. He moved around his office silently and cleaned up, before turning to me. He sat down on the floor in front of me, still not speaking. A normal teacher would have tried to speak to me, but Lucas wasn't a normal teacher. He just sat there, a hand on my head and said nothing as I cried. Somehow, it was better that way. If he had talked to me, I would have been forced to be embarrassed over my tears. When he was silent, I could imagine that he didn't really pay attention to what I was doing and didn't know I was crying. It was easier that way. A hand on my head and silence, instead of shoulder-shaking and soothing words.
After what seemed like hours, I was finally able to calm down again, and stop sobbing. But I still kept curled up, arms shielding me from the world, in a strange mirroring of Cain's position on the floor of the Slytherin Common Room a week and a half earlier. Slowly, bit by bit, I could start relaxing, and lifted my head to rest it against the wall. I opened my eyes and stared straight at Lucas, who had lifted his hand away. Red eyes were even more serious than they had been when I had been called into his office. I couldn't find my voice, couldn't ask what happened, and simply waited in silence. Much too tired to stand up, there wasn't much else to do.
"It appears you will be going back to the hospital wing once more, Zabini." Lucas said quietly after a few minutes.
He gave me a hand up, and on shaking legs and trembling knees we made our way back to the hospital wing. My head was buzzing, and my sight blurry, but somehow I managed to put one foot in front of the other, with Lucas' help. Madame Pomfrey's face appeared before my blurry eyes, before everything went black again.
I was vaguely aware of everything, even though I couldn't see anything. Pomfrey ordered Lucas to get me to the closest bed, and he must have picked me up, because my bruised ribs hurt. Someone tucked me into bed, and a potion was forced down my throat. The pain started to fade, and my headache faded into almost nothing. As soon as I woke up properly again I would have to thank Madame Pomfrey sincerely for being such an excellent mediwitch. I drifted off as someone's hands were investigating the cut under my eye, and slept properly for the first time in a long time.
However, I didn't sleep peacefully. I kept waking up during the night, but never fully and had a strange delirious feeling each time. Someone was sitting in a chair next to the bed, and each time I opened my eyes, I was lulled back to sleep by words I didn't recognise. All sounds were muffled, as if I was hearing them through a thick wall, and I gave up trying to make sense and just listened. Each time I fell back to sleep, and would sleep for perhaps another hour before waking up again. It was a restless night, but I didn't mind. I hardly had enough energy to lift a finger, much less wonder why my mind was acting like it was.
And so I slept on.
*******'
Ending Notes; this is turning out completely different from what I imagined, but it's much better this way so I'm not protesting.
I apologise for going so long without updating, but I haven't been able to do anything but come home from school, do my homework and fall asleep. Weekends were spent sleeping or doing homework. March wasn't a nice month.