Summer holidays were a kind of freedom. While not the complete freedom,
which only finishing seventh year gave, it was a respite from the constant
homework and essays and unprepared tests. I breathed in the warm summer air
as we stood on the station waiting for the train, and all troubles I'd been
worrying about the last few weeks disappeared.
"Summer's my favourite time of year," I told the world around me, which, true to its habit, largely ignored me.
"Tell me about it," Millicent smiled. "There's no end to the possibilities."
"Speak for yourself," Agnes griped. "I'm in for another two months of chess and talking to my cat. Do you have any idea how boring chess is when you play it six or seven times every day for two months straight?"
"About as boring as it is hiding out in a tree-house playing noughts and crosses for two months, and talking to dead parrots." Theo replied. "I'm going to have to thank our gardener for building that tree-house sometime. If I can find enough pieces of him, that is."
"Misery loves company and all that, so I think I'll leave you two love- birds alone," I chuckled.
That comment earned me a punch on the arm courtesy of Agnes. Theo tried not to look like the Gryffindor banner, but failed spectacularly. Laughing outright at them, I set about avoiding Agnes' punches the best I could. Despite having to live in a rented room at the Leaky Cauldron, the summer was starting to look up for me. While it wouldn't be the best summer I'd ever have, I'd pull through and might even have some fun on the way.
As the train rolled in, we were all more cheerful than we had been when we left the castle. Leaving the castle was, just as every year, a rather sad experience. Most students would have been giddy with happiness at leaving school, but normally we weren't: it meant that there'd be two months before we came back to what had become almost like a second home to all of us. At least it was to me, and judging from Agnes' and Theo's acid comments, it was for them as well. For me, leaving became doubly hard, since I didn't know where I was going.
With much huffing and puffing and scrubbing of knees, and a lot of laughs later, we were finally on our way to King's Cross. I had seen Lucas board the train, followed by two simpering girls who were whispering to each other and giggling. He didn't look particularly happy about it. Not particularly happy would also be fitting three words to describe the looks on Potter's and Weasley's faces when they spotted me. They had flanked up around Hermione with the rest of the Gryffindors and were giving me the evil eye, looking as if I was responsible for everything bad that had happened to wizard kind from the Grindelwald war on up.
"Have I accidentally sprouted horns?" I asked Millicent as we watched Gaspar and Theo play chess.
"If you have, they're invisible," she said. "Why do you ask?"
"Because if looks could kill, Weasley would be putting the final nail in my coffin right about now," I said, slightly uneasy. My ribs ached in remembrance of the fist fight we'd had. "Don't tell me he actually believes I raped his best friend just for the heck of it."
"I don't think he does, since Granger slaps him every time he suggests it," Agnes broke in.
"She does, funnily enough," Millicent agreed. "But he might have convinced himself you hexed her or something."
"Has anyone ever told him he's amazingly stupid?"
"Repeatedly," Draco said. "But I don't think he gets it. Perhaps because he is amazingly stupid."
"Could be," I said, "Or it might just be because he wants to believe we're backstabbing traitors. He's such a Gryffindor, don't you think?"
"Helpless case, I'm afraid," Theo sighed. "They're all amazingly stupid."
"Hermione Granger isn't." Cain piped up. "She's in the top of all her classes, and she doesn't pick fights with anyone, not even Draco."
"Maybe, but she still thinks she's better than us Slytherins," Draco pointed out.
"Can you blame her?" I asked, standing up abruptly. The conversation had taken a turn I didn't know if I wanted to follow. "I'm going to get something to eat."
The way I left the compartment could almost be described as escape. While making peace with Hermione was fine, discussing the why's and how's of it with my friends was a step I wasn't quite prepared for yet. I had lied so much to them over the year that I wasn't sure if I could bear to do it again. I was amazed that they still trusted me and hadn't called me out on my lies yet. Some of them had been so bleeding obvious it had hurt telling them. Millicent had been suspicious of me, that was for certain, but she hadn't figured out just how much I had lied to them all.
The lady with the candy-cart was just coming down our way, so I stopped her and bought some chocolate and a bag of ice-mice. Ice-mice had been a favourite of mine since my Father took me to Diagon Alley and bought me a whole bag of them when I was five. Ever since I had been addicted to them, though not as addicted as I had been to chocolate and coffee. Not quite ready to go back and face the curious stares of my friends just yet, I wandered down the train, thinking.
Lucas was sitting in the same compartment as the two girls who had followed him on the train. He was reading some heavy book which I could see the name of, the the girls were giggling and whispering and pointing and doing all the other things twelve-year-old girls do. Needless to say, Lucas did not look particularly amused. Deciding to be nice for once, I ducked into the compartment to help him.
"Hello Professor." I said, as cheerfully as I could manage. "What are you reading?"
"Shakespeare." He muttered.
"Ah. ´To be or not to be, that is the question´," I quoted, working a bit on my plan.
"...´Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer/the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune/Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing, end them´." He finished the quote. "Hamlet. I've always liked that speech."
"I suppose," I said, a bit surprised at his intimate knowledge of a Muggle playwright's work. A dead Muggle playwright, at that. "Girls? Can I have a word with you?"
The two girls, second-year Hufflepuffs, followed me out of the compartment hesitantly, probably frightened by the Slytherin snake on my robes. I couldn't blame them: I wasn't particularly stable, and Slytherins had never treated Hufflepuffs well. Well outside the compartment, I stopped and turned to talk to them.
"Girls, if I were you, I'd avoid Professor Lucas as much as possible," I told them as kindly as I could. "He's a little unstable. When he was at school here he made a sport of torturing rabbits."
Perhaps it was the snake on my robes. Perhaps it was Lucas' frightening appearance. Perhaps I had succeeded in my effort to sound serious. Whatever it was, the girls squeaked, turned on their heels and disappeared, probably looking for their friends. I chuckled before returning to Lucas' compartment.
"They're gone now," I said, smiling.
"What did you tell them?" He asked, not lifting his gaze from the book.
"That you're a criminal madman," I shrugged. "Nothing specific. But they did have Umbridge as a teacher last year, so they're easy to scare off. Whatever did you do to earn them anyway?"
"I woke up this morning, I suppose." He said. "They attached themselves to my shadow when I left my quarters, and didn't leave until now."
"Troublesome." I said. "What do you want me to do about this wandless magic over summer?"
"Keep it down as much as possible. If at all possible, don't perform magic at all. And if you have to, don't do it too obviously." He advised. "We will deal with it somehow, and if you have questions, owl me or the Department of Mysteries. They'll help if you ask them."
"Right. Well, have a better summer than I will," I said, and turned to leave.
"Perhaps." He replied, before returning to his copy of Shakespeare's completed works.
''''''''''''''
The train rolled into King's Cross without further complications, and since everyone seemed to have forgotten about what I'd said when discussing Hermione, I didn't even have to explain myself when I returned to the compartment. Teary farewells were made on Platform 9 ¾, and we all went our separate ways. Millicent was picked up by her parents, and I last saw her trying to explain why she was holding hands with Gaspar Montague as she came off the train. Draco Flooed home together with Pansy, who was spending the summer at Malfoy Manor. Cain, despite his usual thoughtful, standoffish nature, gave me a quick hug before running to his parents. Anges was dragged away by an angry looking grandmother, and Theo was picked up by his gardener.
So I was left, one of the few students still on the Platform, not knowing quite where to go next. Diagon Alley was the obvious choice, since I could very well turn up at home and just announce I was going to stay, since I'd been kicked out. And that was in France in any case. My first stop would have to be Gringotts: thankfully, my father had left me with rather substantial funds to live on in case something happened. Like disowning from the family.
Hermione was waiting for someone outside the barrier, looking quite lost with her trunk and her cat and her Muggle clothes. She was still pale from the blood – loss she'd suffered, but otherwise as good as new. Madam Pomfrey's healing-skills never ceased to amaze me. Hermione had gone from near-dead to almost fully healed in a matter of days.
"Who are you waiting for?" I asked.
"My Mum. She's going to come and pick me up in ten minutes or so." She shrugged carelessly.
"I'll remove myself from the vicinity then," I smiled, despite the bitterness of my thoughts. "Seeing a freak of a Slytherin is perhaps not the best impression your mother could have of the magical world."
"You're not a freak." I heard her say as I walked away, but I pretended not to hear it. It was better to keep walking, to ignore her, and convince myself she hadn't said it. Hearing it would mean I had to listen, and believe her. It was better to believe I was a freak: the wandless magic was easier to deal with if looked at like a disease.
Insanity wasn't far away even on good days, but by not thinking about it, I might be able to escape it a bit longer.
The tiny Levitation Charm I'd put on my trunk made it possible to carry it easily. With my cloak, robes, tie and all but the shirt and trousers of my school uniform stuffed in my trunk, I must have looked rather like a Muggle, since none of them gave me a second glance. There was one woman, with glasses and her brown hair in a bun, who looked at me curiously, but I studiously ignored her and she turned away.
The Leaky Cauldron wasn't too far away, well within walking distance, and I didn't draw one curious look on my way there. The things in the street, which looked like carriages without horses, confused me for a moment, before I remembered what they were called. Cars, I believe the word was. I had once overheard some Muggleborn Ravenclaw trying to explain them to his classmates, so I had some idea about what they were. Some people looked at me strangely when I stopped and stared at the cars, trying to keep from dropping my jaw to my feet when one of them drove by.
After one rather scary-looking individual bumped into me, I fled into the safety of the Leaky Cauldron. It was so much darker in there than out in the blazing sun that I had to stop for a moment to let my vision adjust to the light. All conversations in the dark corners ceased for a minute after I came in, but when they had all taken a good look at me and realised I was about as normal as themselves, the muttering sound of several quiet discussions started up again. The barkeep started polishing glasses as if he'd never stopped.
I walked through the pub and out on the other side. After moving around the rubbish bins, I reached the brick wall and tapped the right bricks to get through. It opened up and I was greeted with the sight of Diagon Alley, one of the most wonderful places in the magical world. It seemed that even the impending war hadn't done much to change it: People still wandered through the street and talked. People still are ice-cream at Florean Fortesque's, and coming out of Eyelop's Owl Emporium with newly bought pets, despite the fact that the magical world had been unofficially at war for over a year. And in the middle of this oasis of calm lay Gringotts, a white vision of the very essence of banks everywhere.
I must have looked rather lost in the large hall with my worn trunk and my stripped down version of a Hogwarts' uniform. The other customers of the bank gave me looks, ranging from curious to disgusted, in the manner of crowds everywhere, and turned back to their business. I walked up to the closest free goblin and cleared my throat. The goblin made a show of ignoring me for a few seconds, but since I didn't go away, he put down his quill and looked me.
"I'm here to make a withdrawal," I said.
"Name and vault number." The goblin said.
"Blaise Zabini, vault 314."
"How much would you like to withdraw?" The goblin asked, sounding incredibly bored.
"Five hundred galleons." It was a rather large amount just to live through the summer, considering that rooms at the Leaky Cauldron were cheap and our school books weren't going to cost that much, but I wanted to be sure and I wanted to have extra money for unforeseen expenses.
"Follow Bloodaxe, and he will take you to your vault." The goblin said after getting over the surprise of a sixteen year old withdrawing five hundred galleons from a private account without raising an eyebrow.
I've always disliked riding in the tiny mine-wagons down to the vaults beneath Gringotts, mostly due to the lack of control the goblins seem to have. I held on as tightly as I could and closed my eyes and willed myself not to vomit. Somehow, I didn't think the goblin Bloodaxe would appreciate that very much. When the bone-rattling ride finally ended and I opened my eyes again, we were so far below ground that the air was cold. Bloodaxe, horribly cheerful for just having suffered through the nightmarish ride, jumped off the wagon and up on the platform next to vault 314 and turned to me.
"Key?" He said, smiling the most goblin-ish smile I'd ever seen.
"Here." I handed it to him, trying to fight down the nausea.
"Thank you." He opened the heavy door with a touch of his crooked fingers, and stepped aside.
Somehow, I managed to calm the shaking of my legs long enough to walk into the vault, pick up my requested five hundred galleons and walk out again. As if he had realised my fear of the ride, the way back was much slower and didn't jerk and jump so horribly. When we finally reached the surface again, I shook his hand and walked shakily out the door. My legs felt like I'd been hit by the Jelly-Legs hex.
The Leaky Cauldron patrons didn't take nearly as much time staring at me the second time I came in, dragging my trunk on the floor. I walked up to the bar, and cleared my throat to get the attention of the barkeep who, true to the nature of barkeeps all over the multi-verse, was still polishing glasses.
"Excuse me?" I said.
"Yes?" He didn't stop polishing the glass.
"How much would it cost to rent a room here until the first of September?"
"Some Sickles every night," He shrugged. "So, it about adds up to thirty galleons by the end of August."
I put thirty galleons on the bar, avoiding some of the less savoury sticky puddles on it.
"If there's anything missing from that amount, we'll make it up at the end of August." I said.
"You can take room number twelve." He handed me a key before grabbing the galleons. "It's just been cleaned."
"Thank you." I said, taking the key and trudging up the stairs.
The room was clean and nice, if a bit small. But it wasn't as if I was staying for the rest of my life, so it would do perfectly until September. I dumped my trunk on the bed and headed downstairs again, my stomach forcibly reminding me that it had been five hours since I ate last, and that had been a measly toast. The situation called for something more substantial, like ice-cream. Preferably chocolate-flavoured. Florean Fortesque's looked like it would be my next stop.
A quarter of an hour later found me sitting at one of the round tables outside Florean Fortesque's, waiting for one of the waiters to notice me. Fortesque's was one of the few ice-cream bars I knew of that employed waiters, but it was a large place, and had a lot of customers, so I suppose it made sense. One of them finally noticed me and stopped by my table.
"What would you like?" She asked in a bored voice and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Waiters were the same everywhere.
"Chocolate and lemon ice-cream." I said.
"Cone or plate?"
"Plate."
"Small, medium or large?"
"As large as you can make it." A grin appeared on my face as she wrinkled her nose and then tried to pretend she hadn't. She jotted the order down on a notepad and disappeared into the building.
I got my ice-cream and watched passers-by as I ate it slowly. There were few things that were better than the first ice-cream of summer holidays, and I fully intended to enjoy it as much as possible. Some red-headed woman, looking like she might be related to the Weasley's, walked past on the street, eyeing the robes in Madam Malkin's. I stopped eating for a moment and just stared. If that was anything like Ginny Weasley would look like when she grew up, the boys of the world were in serious trouble. Somewhere at the back of my mind, some long-forgotten voice of sanity protested that this woman was unreal: there weren't any red-headed veelas for one. She turned and looked at me, smiled, and walked away.
Shaking off the ghostly feeling I got when she looked at me like that, I set about finishing my ice-cream. There had been something wrong about her, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was. I'd probably figure it out when I had to. In the meantime, I was going to finish my ice- cream, look at the other people, and enjoy my first day of summer properly.
Mixing chocolate with lemon wasn't very traditional, but I wasn't a very traditional person. I got some strange looks, and some little child stared at me in shock before whispering loudly to her mother about what a strange person I was, but I merely grinned and kept eating. In a world where everyone went in straight lines, it was incredibly amusing to proceed in a curve. It was refreshing to see people's reactions, if nothing else.
With an empty plate and nothing particular I had to do, I remained seated at Fortesque's and simply admired the scenery.
Summer had truly begun.
''''''''''''''''
Ending Notes: A bit of a short chapter this time, but we'll be moving the plot right along as soon as possible. I hope you liked this more light hearted chapter. I'm tired of torturing Blaise. For the moment, at least.
"Summer's my favourite time of year," I told the world around me, which, true to its habit, largely ignored me.
"Tell me about it," Millicent smiled. "There's no end to the possibilities."
"Speak for yourself," Agnes griped. "I'm in for another two months of chess and talking to my cat. Do you have any idea how boring chess is when you play it six or seven times every day for two months straight?"
"About as boring as it is hiding out in a tree-house playing noughts and crosses for two months, and talking to dead parrots." Theo replied. "I'm going to have to thank our gardener for building that tree-house sometime. If I can find enough pieces of him, that is."
"Misery loves company and all that, so I think I'll leave you two love- birds alone," I chuckled.
That comment earned me a punch on the arm courtesy of Agnes. Theo tried not to look like the Gryffindor banner, but failed spectacularly. Laughing outright at them, I set about avoiding Agnes' punches the best I could. Despite having to live in a rented room at the Leaky Cauldron, the summer was starting to look up for me. While it wouldn't be the best summer I'd ever have, I'd pull through and might even have some fun on the way.
As the train rolled in, we were all more cheerful than we had been when we left the castle. Leaving the castle was, just as every year, a rather sad experience. Most students would have been giddy with happiness at leaving school, but normally we weren't: it meant that there'd be two months before we came back to what had become almost like a second home to all of us. At least it was to me, and judging from Agnes' and Theo's acid comments, it was for them as well. For me, leaving became doubly hard, since I didn't know where I was going.
With much huffing and puffing and scrubbing of knees, and a lot of laughs later, we were finally on our way to King's Cross. I had seen Lucas board the train, followed by two simpering girls who were whispering to each other and giggling. He didn't look particularly happy about it. Not particularly happy would also be fitting three words to describe the looks on Potter's and Weasley's faces when they spotted me. They had flanked up around Hermione with the rest of the Gryffindors and were giving me the evil eye, looking as if I was responsible for everything bad that had happened to wizard kind from the Grindelwald war on up.
"Have I accidentally sprouted horns?" I asked Millicent as we watched Gaspar and Theo play chess.
"If you have, they're invisible," she said. "Why do you ask?"
"Because if looks could kill, Weasley would be putting the final nail in my coffin right about now," I said, slightly uneasy. My ribs ached in remembrance of the fist fight we'd had. "Don't tell me he actually believes I raped his best friend just for the heck of it."
"I don't think he does, since Granger slaps him every time he suggests it," Agnes broke in.
"She does, funnily enough," Millicent agreed. "But he might have convinced himself you hexed her or something."
"Has anyone ever told him he's amazingly stupid?"
"Repeatedly," Draco said. "But I don't think he gets it. Perhaps because he is amazingly stupid."
"Could be," I said, "Or it might just be because he wants to believe we're backstabbing traitors. He's such a Gryffindor, don't you think?"
"Helpless case, I'm afraid," Theo sighed. "They're all amazingly stupid."
"Hermione Granger isn't." Cain piped up. "She's in the top of all her classes, and she doesn't pick fights with anyone, not even Draco."
"Maybe, but she still thinks she's better than us Slytherins," Draco pointed out.
"Can you blame her?" I asked, standing up abruptly. The conversation had taken a turn I didn't know if I wanted to follow. "I'm going to get something to eat."
The way I left the compartment could almost be described as escape. While making peace with Hermione was fine, discussing the why's and how's of it with my friends was a step I wasn't quite prepared for yet. I had lied so much to them over the year that I wasn't sure if I could bear to do it again. I was amazed that they still trusted me and hadn't called me out on my lies yet. Some of them had been so bleeding obvious it had hurt telling them. Millicent had been suspicious of me, that was for certain, but she hadn't figured out just how much I had lied to them all.
The lady with the candy-cart was just coming down our way, so I stopped her and bought some chocolate and a bag of ice-mice. Ice-mice had been a favourite of mine since my Father took me to Diagon Alley and bought me a whole bag of them when I was five. Ever since I had been addicted to them, though not as addicted as I had been to chocolate and coffee. Not quite ready to go back and face the curious stares of my friends just yet, I wandered down the train, thinking.
Lucas was sitting in the same compartment as the two girls who had followed him on the train. He was reading some heavy book which I could see the name of, the the girls were giggling and whispering and pointing and doing all the other things twelve-year-old girls do. Needless to say, Lucas did not look particularly amused. Deciding to be nice for once, I ducked into the compartment to help him.
"Hello Professor." I said, as cheerfully as I could manage. "What are you reading?"
"Shakespeare." He muttered.
"Ah. ´To be or not to be, that is the question´," I quoted, working a bit on my plan.
"...´Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer/the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune/Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing, end them´." He finished the quote. "Hamlet. I've always liked that speech."
"I suppose," I said, a bit surprised at his intimate knowledge of a Muggle playwright's work. A dead Muggle playwright, at that. "Girls? Can I have a word with you?"
The two girls, second-year Hufflepuffs, followed me out of the compartment hesitantly, probably frightened by the Slytherin snake on my robes. I couldn't blame them: I wasn't particularly stable, and Slytherins had never treated Hufflepuffs well. Well outside the compartment, I stopped and turned to talk to them.
"Girls, if I were you, I'd avoid Professor Lucas as much as possible," I told them as kindly as I could. "He's a little unstable. When he was at school here he made a sport of torturing rabbits."
Perhaps it was the snake on my robes. Perhaps it was Lucas' frightening appearance. Perhaps I had succeeded in my effort to sound serious. Whatever it was, the girls squeaked, turned on their heels and disappeared, probably looking for their friends. I chuckled before returning to Lucas' compartment.
"They're gone now," I said, smiling.
"What did you tell them?" He asked, not lifting his gaze from the book.
"That you're a criminal madman," I shrugged. "Nothing specific. But they did have Umbridge as a teacher last year, so they're easy to scare off. Whatever did you do to earn them anyway?"
"I woke up this morning, I suppose." He said. "They attached themselves to my shadow when I left my quarters, and didn't leave until now."
"Troublesome." I said. "What do you want me to do about this wandless magic over summer?"
"Keep it down as much as possible. If at all possible, don't perform magic at all. And if you have to, don't do it too obviously." He advised. "We will deal with it somehow, and if you have questions, owl me or the Department of Mysteries. They'll help if you ask them."
"Right. Well, have a better summer than I will," I said, and turned to leave.
"Perhaps." He replied, before returning to his copy of Shakespeare's completed works.
''''''''''''''
The train rolled into King's Cross without further complications, and since everyone seemed to have forgotten about what I'd said when discussing Hermione, I didn't even have to explain myself when I returned to the compartment. Teary farewells were made on Platform 9 ¾, and we all went our separate ways. Millicent was picked up by her parents, and I last saw her trying to explain why she was holding hands with Gaspar Montague as she came off the train. Draco Flooed home together with Pansy, who was spending the summer at Malfoy Manor. Cain, despite his usual thoughtful, standoffish nature, gave me a quick hug before running to his parents. Anges was dragged away by an angry looking grandmother, and Theo was picked up by his gardener.
So I was left, one of the few students still on the Platform, not knowing quite where to go next. Diagon Alley was the obvious choice, since I could very well turn up at home and just announce I was going to stay, since I'd been kicked out. And that was in France in any case. My first stop would have to be Gringotts: thankfully, my father had left me with rather substantial funds to live on in case something happened. Like disowning from the family.
Hermione was waiting for someone outside the barrier, looking quite lost with her trunk and her cat and her Muggle clothes. She was still pale from the blood – loss she'd suffered, but otherwise as good as new. Madam Pomfrey's healing-skills never ceased to amaze me. Hermione had gone from near-dead to almost fully healed in a matter of days.
"Who are you waiting for?" I asked.
"My Mum. She's going to come and pick me up in ten minutes or so." She shrugged carelessly.
"I'll remove myself from the vicinity then," I smiled, despite the bitterness of my thoughts. "Seeing a freak of a Slytherin is perhaps not the best impression your mother could have of the magical world."
"You're not a freak." I heard her say as I walked away, but I pretended not to hear it. It was better to keep walking, to ignore her, and convince myself she hadn't said it. Hearing it would mean I had to listen, and believe her. It was better to believe I was a freak: the wandless magic was easier to deal with if looked at like a disease.
Insanity wasn't far away even on good days, but by not thinking about it, I might be able to escape it a bit longer.
The tiny Levitation Charm I'd put on my trunk made it possible to carry it easily. With my cloak, robes, tie and all but the shirt and trousers of my school uniform stuffed in my trunk, I must have looked rather like a Muggle, since none of them gave me a second glance. There was one woman, with glasses and her brown hair in a bun, who looked at me curiously, but I studiously ignored her and she turned away.
The Leaky Cauldron wasn't too far away, well within walking distance, and I didn't draw one curious look on my way there. The things in the street, which looked like carriages without horses, confused me for a moment, before I remembered what they were called. Cars, I believe the word was. I had once overheard some Muggleborn Ravenclaw trying to explain them to his classmates, so I had some idea about what they were. Some people looked at me strangely when I stopped and stared at the cars, trying to keep from dropping my jaw to my feet when one of them drove by.
After one rather scary-looking individual bumped into me, I fled into the safety of the Leaky Cauldron. It was so much darker in there than out in the blazing sun that I had to stop for a moment to let my vision adjust to the light. All conversations in the dark corners ceased for a minute after I came in, but when they had all taken a good look at me and realised I was about as normal as themselves, the muttering sound of several quiet discussions started up again. The barkeep started polishing glasses as if he'd never stopped.
I walked through the pub and out on the other side. After moving around the rubbish bins, I reached the brick wall and tapped the right bricks to get through. It opened up and I was greeted with the sight of Diagon Alley, one of the most wonderful places in the magical world. It seemed that even the impending war hadn't done much to change it: People still wandered through the street and talked. People still are ice-cream at Florean Fortesque's, and coming out of Eyelop's Owl Emporium with newly bought pets, despite the fact that the magical world had been unofficially at war for over a year. And in the middle of this oasis of calm lay Gringotts, a white vision of the very essence of banks everywhere.
I must have looked rather lost in the large hall with my worn trunk and my stripped down version of a Hogwarts' uniform. The other customers of the bank gave me looks, ranging from curious to disgusted, in the manner of crowds everywhere, and turned back to their business. I walked up to the closest free goblin and cleared my throat. The goblin made a show of ignoring me for a few seconds, but since I didn't go away, he put down his quill and looked me.
"I'm here to make a withdrawal," I said.
"Name and vault number." The goblin said.
"Blaise Zabini, vault 314."
"How much would you like to withdraw?" The goblin asked, sounding incredibly bored.
"Five hundred galleons." It was a rather large amount just to live through the summer, considering that rooms at the Leaky Cauldron were cheap and our school books weren't going to cost that much, but I wanted to be sure and I wanted to have extra money for unforeseen expenses.
"Follow Bloodaxe, and he will take you to your vault." The goblin said after getting over the surprise of a sixteen year old withdrawing five hundred galleons from a private account without raising an eyebrow.
I've always disliked riding in the tiny mine-wagons down to the vaults beneath Gringotts, mostly due to the lack of control the goblins seem to have. I held on as tightly as I could and closed my eyes and willed myself not to vomit. Somehow, I didn't think the goblin Bloodaxe would appreciate that very much. When the bone-rattling ride finally ended and I opened my eyes again, we were so far below ground that the air was cold. Bloodaxe, horribly cheerful for just having suffered through the nightmarish ride, jumped off the wagon and up on the platform next to vault 314 and turned to me.
"Key?" He said, smiling the most goblin-ish smile I'd ever seen.
"Here." I handed it to him, trying to fight down the nausea.
"Thank you." He opened the heavy door with a touch of his crooked fingers, and stepped aside.
Somehow, I managed to calm the shaking of my legs long enough to walk into the vault, pick up my requested five hundred galleons and walk out again. As if he had realised my fear of the ride, the way back was much slower and didn't jerk and jump so horribly. When we finally reached the surface again, I shook his hand and walked shakily out the door. My legs felt like I'd been hit by the Jelly-Legs hex.
The Leaky Cauldron patrons didn't take nearly as much time staring at me the second time I came in, dragging my trunk on the floor. I walked up to the bar, and cleared my throat to get the attention of the barkeep who, true to the nature of barkeeps all over the multi-verse, was still polishing glasses.
"Excuse me?" I said.
"Yes?" He didn't stop polishing the glass.
"How much would it cost to rent a room here until the first of September?"
"Some Sickles every night," He shrugged. "So, it about adds up to thirty galleons by the end of August."
I put thirty galleons on the bar, avoiding some of the less savoury sticky puddles on it.
"If there's anything missing from that amount, we'll make it up at the end of August." I said.
"You can take room number twelve." He handed me a key before grabbing the galleons. "It's just been cleaned."
"Thank you." I said, taking the key and trudging up the stairs.
The room was clean and nice, if a bit small. But it wasn't as if I was staying for the rest of my life, so it would do perfectly until September. I dumped my trunk on the bed and headed downstairs again, my stomach forcibly reminding me that it had been five hours since I ate last, and that had been a measly toast. The situation called for something more substantial, like ice-cream. Preferably chocolate-flavoured. Florean Fortesque's looked like it would be my next stop.
A quarter of an hour later found me sitting at one of the round tables outside Florean Fortesque's, waiting for one of the waiters to notice me. Fortesque's was one of the few ice-cream bars I knew of that employed waiters, but it was a large place, and had a lot of customers, so I suppose it made sense. One of them finally noticed me and stopped by my table.
"What would you like?" She asked in a bored voice and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Waiters were the same everywhere.
"Chocolate and lemon ice-cream." I said.
"Cone or plate?"
"Plate."
"Small, medium or large?"
"As large as you can make it." A grin appeared on my face as she wrinkled her nose and then tried to pretend she hadn't. She jotted the order down on a notepad and disappeared into the building.
I got my ice-cream and watched passers-by as I ate it slowly. There were few things that were better than the first ice-cream of summer holidays, and I fully intended to enjoy it as much as possible. Some red-headed woman, looking like she might be related to the Weasley's, walked past on the street, eyeing the robes in Madam Malkin's. I stopped eating for a moment and just stared. If that was anything like Ginny Weasley would look like when she grew up, the boys of the world were in serious trouble. Somewhere at the back of my mind, some long-forgotten voice of sanity protested that this woman was unreal: there weren't any red-headed veelas for one. She turned and looked at me, smiled, and walked away.
Shaking off the ghostly feeling I got when she looked at me like that, I set about finishing my ice-cream. There had been something wrong about her, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was. I'd probably figure it out when I had to. In the meantime, I was going to finish my ice- cream, look at the other people, and enjoy my first day of summer properly.
Mixing chocolate with lemon wasn't very traditional, but I wasn't a very traditional person. I got some strange looks, and some little child stared at me in shock before whispering loudly to her mother about what a strange person I was, but I merely grinned and kept eating. In a world where everyone went in straight lines, it was incredibly amusing to proceed in a curve. It was refreshing to see people's reactions, if nothing else.
With an empty plate and nothing particular I had to do, I remained seated at Fortesque's and simply admired the scenery.
Summer had truly begun.
''''''''''''''''
Ending Notes: A bit of a short chapter this time, but we'll be moving the plot right along as soon as possible. I hope you liked this more light hearted chapter. I'm tired of torturing Blaise. For the moment, at least.