Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Thank you for all the lovely reviews. Reviews always make me smile - that was a hint, by the way. Constructive critisism is always a plus. :) Enjoy the chapter...
THE IMPORTANCE OF ANCIENT RUNES
Chapter Six: In Which Misery Loves Company
In a hurried, panicked rush, Blaise scooped up Hermione's clothes, running out of the room. When he was in the corridor, there was no sign of Hermione, feline or otherwise.
He swore, first in English, and then regressing into Italian. He had learnt that it was easier to swear in Italian at school - as the professors did not know what he was saying they could not reprimand him for it.
What was he going to do? Hermione was roaming the school somewhere, as a cat, her own human intelligence suppressed by the cat's instincts. And he had no idea what to do about it. Even if he was to find her, he did not know how to reverse the transformation and make her human again. Not to mention the fact that, even if he could make her human again, he was currently holding her clothes.
There was only one answer that Blaise could think of, and he did not like it one bit.
McGonagall.
The Head of Gryffindor had been overseeing Hermione's Animagus training, but Blaise was not particularly keen on visiting her because, firstly, she was the Head of Gryffindor and therefore The Enemy and, secondly, because she was blissfully unaware that Hermione was passing on her teaching to himself.
Throwing away all thoughts of what the strict Transfiguration professor would say, he decided it would be best in find her. He would rather deal with her than Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Snape would not be a great deal of help. He strode quickly down the corridor, hoping to find someone who could point him in the direction of McGonagall's office - having little to no interest in her and never having been there before, he was at a loss to its location.
He decided to ask a portrait. Never having initiated a conversation with one before, he found it a bid odd. Choosing a portrait that looked somewhat pleasant, he tapped gently on its frame. "Excuse me? Could you possibly tell where Professor McGonagall's office is?"
The portrait, a young girl, eyed him suspiciously. "You're a Slytherin."
"I'm well aware of that," he snapped. "Where's McGonagall's office?"
Her eyes filled with watery tears. "There's no need to be so rude!" she wailed. "I'm not going to tell you now because you're mean and nasty and you're a Slytherin and I don't like Slytherins and you smell!"
An icy chill spread over Blaise's body, starting from his shoulder. He gasped, turning around and nearly dropping Hermione's clothes.
"You are looking for Professor McGonagall's office?" the ghost whom Blaise recognised as Gryffindor's house ghost asked. He nodded mutely, his shoulder still numb from where the ghost had touched him. "Follow me, then."
Blaise followed the ghost in silence, trying to remember his name. It was Nearly Headless Ned, or something like that. Eventually, the Gryffindor ghost stopped outside a door. "You'll have to knock, I am afraid," he told Blaise. "Alas, I do not have the capabilities to do so."
Gingerly, Blaise knocked. The door opened suddenly, and the severe face of Gryffindor's Head, Minerva McGonagall filled Blaise's line of vision.
"Sir Nicholas," she said in surprise. The she noticed Blaise and her tone became more serious. "Mr Zabini."
Nicholas, Blaise thought, so that's his name.
Sir Nicholas decided at that moment to sink through the floor, leaving Blaise alone with Professor McGonagall.
"Was there something you wanted, Mr Zabini?"
"Uh, Professor, well, you see…" Blaise could not quite find the words to tell her what had happened.
"Spit it out, Mr Zabini." She noticed the bundle of clothes that Blaise was holding. "What are you doing with someone else's clothes?"
"Ah, well… Hermione managed to… and then she ran off… and these were just there… and then I came to you." Blaise blurted this out, several words getting lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth.
McGonagall then noticed the scratches on Blaise's cheek, and she turned pale as she realised what had happened. "Into my office, Zabini. Now." She practically pulled Blaise into her office.
"Put the clothes on the floor and help yourself to a ginger nut." Bewildered by the professor's instructions, Blaise practically dropped Hermione's clothes. Before he could blink, McGonagall had changed into her Animagus form, and was gently pawing at Hermione's clothes. She then streaked out her office, presumably looking for Hermione.
Feeling slightly faint and ever so confused, Blaise sat down, reaching for a biscuit that McGonagall had offered him. He was not overly keen on ginger nuts, but he felt queasy and he had always been told that ginger was good for an upset stomach.
He was sat there nibbling on the biscuit for nearly fifteen minutes before McGonagall returned, human this time, and a struggling tabby cat in her arms.
"Can you turn her back?" Blaise asked, to which Professor McGonagall gave a scathing look as though to say 'what sort of a witch do you think I am' as she put the cat down, shutting the door of her office quickly so that Hermione could not escape. The cat hissed and Professor McGonagall said:
"That's enough, Miss Granger." She removed her wand from the pocket of her tartan robes, pointing it directly at Hermione.
"Do you want me to leave or something…?" Blaise started. However, he got no further than this before a blue beam hit Hermione. He quickly turned his head, shutting his eyes just in case.
The next thing he heard was a forlorn, "Ow."
"Put this on, Miss Granger," Blaise heard McGonagall say.
After a couple moments and the sound of material rustling, Blaise ventured, "Is it safe to open my eyes yet?"
"Yes, Mr Zabini." Professor McGonagall actually sounded rather amused. When Blaise looked, he saw Hermione, red-faced with a sheepish expression, dressed in one of McGonagall's robes. As her clothes were still on the floor, he realised that she must be naked under the robes. His cheeks reddened at the thought.
"I'm sorry for scratching you," Hermione apologised.
"Erm, that's alright."
"You can return to your common room now, Mr Zabini," Professor McGonagall told him. Blaise could tell that this was non-negotiable, and he left quickly. McGonagall was not normally a ray of sunshine, but he could tell that she was not pleased with Hermione having made the transformation.
Pushing her broccoli onto Blaise's plate, Pansy asked, "Any idea why Granger's not with Potter and Weasley?" Blaise looked up from his meal and over to the Gryffindor table. Sure enough, Hermione was not sat with her friends. Quickly scanning the table, he noticed that she was nowhere in sight.
The rest of the students had returned to Hogwarts that afternoon, and this was the first meal since their arrival.
"I heard that she's in the Hospital Wing." Daphne offered her input into the situation, nearly knocking over a jug of pumpkin juice as she reached for a bowl of sprouts.
"Careful, Daffy," Millicent warned, moving the jug to a safe distance. Daphne grinned despite herself.
"Why's she in there?" Pansy asked. Blaise busied himself with cutting up his roast potatoes, steam curling out of them. He had a feeling he knew why, but was not about to share it with them.
"Violet said she fell down the stairs," Daphne revealed.
"Violet?" Millicent asked, brow furrowing in confusion; there were no Slytherins by the name of Violet. There was a Vivienne, certainly, but she was a third year, and had been home for Christmas.
"That portrait. Best source of information in the whole school."
"Gossip, more like," Millicent corrected before taking a large gulp from her goblet. "You'd believe anything you hear."
"I also seriously doubt that Granger is foolish enough to fall down the stairs," Pansy said. She paused, looking thoughtful. "Again," she added.
"She was hit by a Quaffle last time," Blaise pointed out, joining into the conversation. "That was hardly her fault." He put down his knife and fork. "Y'know, I'm not really feeling all that hungry any more. I think I might go back to the common room."
The three Slytherin girls watched in silence as Blaise left the Great Hall. It was not until his black-clad figure had disappeared from view that Pansy spoke. "What d'you reckon, then?"
Millicent chewed her mouthful thoughtfully, swallowed and then said, "He likes her, but the daft sod's too afraid to admit it." The earned a high-pitched giggle from Daphne. Millicent glared at her, and she blushed.
"She's quite nice and all, I suppose" Daphne said, "but it's a pity she's a Gryffindor."
"There's nothing wrong with Gryffindors," Pansy said tersely.
"They're teacher's pets!" Millicent told her scornfully.
Pansy had gone rather red in the face. "Not all of them. They're not all like that." She pushed her plate forward, slopping gravy onto the tablecloth. "I think I just lost my appetite."
The Slytherin prefect practically ran out of the Great Hall. A bemused looking Millicent speared a sprout from Pansy's plate with her thought. "Did we say something wrong?" she asked Daphne. Daphne shrugged.
"I dunno. She's just weird like that."
Pushing open the door to the Hospital Wing, Blaise was confronted with the smell of peppermint. He wrinkled his nose; it was particularly strong and someone really needed to open a window. Someone saying, "What are you doing here, Zabini?", also greeted him.
"Ron!" Hermione admonished, pulling back the curtain around her bed. She smiled weakly at Blaise. "Hello."
"Hi." he held up the book her was carrying. "I just came to return this." It was the book on the Animagus transformation that McGonagall had given Hermione. He had gone to fetch it after he had left McGonagall's office the previous evening, knowing that Hermione would worry about it.
"Thank you." She took the book and sat back down on her bed. She looked exhausted, Blaise noticed, as though she had not slept in three days. It was then that Blaise realised that Harry and Ron were staring at him.
"Yes?" he asked.
"You bought her book back, now you can leave," Harry told him in a flat voice. Was it something going around Gryffindor, or did he too look as though he was sleep deprived?
"Fine." Blaise turned to leave, but Hermione called out to him.
"Blaise. Later," she said in Italian. Blaise smiled to himself; even in a state of exhaustion, her pronunciation was spot-on.
"Excuse me?" he asked, following her lead and speaking in Italian.
"Come back later." Her Italian was faltering and hesitant, yet was perfectly comprehensible. "I would like to talk with you."
Blaise nodded and left, leaving Hermione alone with Harry and Ron. They looked at her expectantly. "What did you just say to him?" Ron asked.
"That he needs to get a haircut," Hermione replied.
"No, you didn't," Harry interjected.
"No, I didn't," Hermione agreed. "But what I said to him is of no concern to you." Harry seemed to doubt this.
"Hermione," he said slowly. "Are you and Zabini, y'know, seeing each other?"
"No."
"But you like him?" Ron prompted.
"I don't know." Hermione paused. "He confuses me. I mean, I get confused when I'm around him. Sometimes I think he makes my head spin, and I think I like him, but then I feel so foolish." She sighed, placing the book on the table beside her bed. "He's not like you two. I can't picture him as a brother-figure, no matter how hard I try. He's intelligent, charming in his own peculiar way and just a little bit mysterious."
Harry ran a hand through his dark hair, messing it up even more than normal. "Pity he's a Slytherin," he mumbled. Ron reacted to this.
"Don't be such a prat, Harry," he said. Both Harry and Hermione were surprised at this. "If he was a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff you wouldn't be discriminating against him."
"What's got into you, Ron?" Harry asked, bewildered by his friend's reaction to his simple comment.
"Nothing! All I'm saying is that just because he's a Slytherin doesn't mean that he's some Death Eater in training!" Ron's facial colour was rapidly turning redder and redder.
"Are you saying that I think that about all Slytherins?"
"Well, that's the way you act sometimes! Most Slytherins are just normal students."
"Ron! Harry!" Hermione glared at her friends. "Will you please stop it? I've already got a headache as it is." She looked pleadingly at Harry. "Maybe you should go back to the common room, Harry," she suggested. "Before Madam Pomfrey kicks you two out."
Harry stood, scowling. "Fine," he grumbled before sweeping out of the Hospital Wing. Hermione sighed; she would have to speak to him later. Ron looked at her apprehensively.
"D'you want me to leave as well?" he asked uncertainly.
"Not yet."
"Did you want something?"
"I want you to tell Harry about Pansy." Hermione looked at Ron. "He should know."
Ron let out a low whistle. "I suppose Zabini told you?" he asked, the tops of his ears starting to turn red.
"Yeah. You have to tell him, or I will." Ron could tell from Hermione's tone that this was no idle threat.
"I don't know how to tell him," he admitted. "I've tried, I swear, but… it's difficult, y'know?"
"I suppose."
The redhead rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I should probably go. If I see Zabini, d'you want me to send him in?"
Hermione shook her head. "I doubt if you'll see him." Standing up, Ron kissed Hermione on the cheek.
"You could do a lot worse than Zabini," he told her before he left. Hermione smiled as she watched him leave, and then pulled the curtain back around her bed. It did not happen often, but she had a feeling that Ron was most definitely right about that.
It was morning before Blaise ventured back into the Hospital Wing. Hermione, who had been sleepily reading McGonagall's book, smiled when she spotted the mug of coffee cradled in Blaise's hands; rather than missing breakfast, he had brought his morning meal - if you could call it that - with him. "Mornin'," she mumbled. He replied with a slight smile, before he took a large gulp of his drink.
"You wanted to talk to me?" he asked, taking a seat and crossing his legs in a casual movement. Hermione nodded, slipping a bookmark between the pages of her book.
"I wanted to thank you for getting McGonagall. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't."
"You'd have done the same thing for me, I hope."
"Of course." She bit her lip, pushing her unruly hair behind her ear. "McGonagall's getting Snape to make a potion for me. It'll put a block on me being able to do the transformation."
Blaise seemed confused by this. "Why?"
Sullenly, Hermione replied, "She says I've been abusing my body." Hermione looked pained as she said this. "I don't mean to miss meals!" she exclaimed. "I'm just so busy studying and working on the transformation that I forget what time it is!"
"I know you don't," Blaise said quietly.
"And I can't help it I get engrossed in a book and don't end up going to bed until two o'clock in the morning."
"I've done that before," the Slytherin admitted. He sipped his coffee, staring at her intently. "You need to be more careful, though. You'll end up making yourself really ill." Hermione was silent, and she began to fiddle with the tassel on her bookmark. Eventually, Blaise asked, "Is the potion going to be reversible?"
Hermione nodded. "McGonagall says she'll give me the antidote when I've 'learnt to respect my body'." She grinned. "I wonder if that'll be any time soon?"
"You shouldn't joke about things like that," Blaise said seriously.
"If I can't joke about it, what am I supposed to do? Pretend this isn't happening?" Hermione was exasperated by now, and nearly pulled the tassel off her bookmark. Blaise's hands covered hers, slightly cold, and one gently tugged the book away from Hermione's grasp.
"Don't want you to start ripping McGonagall's book, do we?" He looked up at her, one hand still covering hers, and Hermione decided that it really should not be legal for someone to have eyes that blue. She felt herself leaning forward, seeing Blaise do the same.
She took a shaking breath. "Perhaps you should leave?" she suggested in a whisper, realising what was happening. He licked his lips then nodded.
"Yeah," he agreed. "That's probably a good idea."
"Is she still up there?" Harry asked.
Parvati nodded. "Do you have any idea what's the matter?" Harry and Ron had stopped the Asian girl after she had descended the stairs from the girls' dormitories, closely followed by Lavender.
"Maybe," Ron said hesitantly. Lavender arched an eyebrow in interest.
"Anything we need to know?"
"No," Harry said shortly, glancing up the stairs. He and Ron knew from experience that they could not physically go up the stairs to see Hermione, no matter how much they wanted to.
"Fine," said Parvati, rolling her eyes. "Come on, Lavender - Padma and Su are waiting for us." The blonde flicked her hair over her shoulder, following Parvati out of the common room.
When they were left alone, Ron looked at Harry. "I reckon we should have a word with Zabini," he said. Harry inclined his head in agreement.
Out in the corridor, however, Harry and Ron faced a dilemma. "Do you actually have any idea where to find him?" Harry asked.
"Dunno. The library?"
"The Quidditch Pitch?" was Ron's suggestion.
Harry looked doubtful. "I don't think he plays Quidditch." He wrinkled his nose. "Maybe we should, um, ask… Pansy?" When Ron had told him about Pansy, Harry had gone strangely quiet. Then he had got mad and smashed a window. Eventually, Hermione had returned from the Hospital Wing, slapped him and he had kept quiet about his opinions on Ron's girlfriend since then.
He did not look overly keen about seeking help from the Slytherin prefect, but he knew that she was friends with Zabini. Harry was not entirely sure that Slytherins had friends, but if they did, that was probably the relationship between Pansy and Zabini.
Blaise, Harry reminded himself. His name is Blaise. That's what Hermione said, so I suppose we'll have to call him that.
That was another thing that Harry could not quite get his head round; he was so used to addressing Slytherins by their last names that calling them by their given names was a bizarre concept.
The Gryffindor prefect seemed surprised by Harry's suggestion, but he nodded. "Yeah, she should be in the library working on her Divination."
Indeed, at first they did not spot Pansy as the pile of books surrounding her blocked her from view. Ron gently placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and when she saw that Harry was stood behind Ron, she snapped, "What are you doing here, Gryffindors?"
"It's alright, Pansy," Ron assured her. "He knows about us." The Slytherin girl relaxed.
"Oh." Looking up at Ron, she said, "What did you want?"
"We're looking for Z… Blaise," Harry said, correcting himself. "Do you know where he is?"
Her dark eyes narrowed. "Why are you looking for him?"
"Because it's been three days since we've come back to Hogwarts and we've barely seen Hermione," Ron explained. "She's been spending all her spare time up in her room and we reckon she's mooning over Zabini." He rolled his eyes. "Blaise. Whatever."
"Really? Because I haven't seen Blaise looking this miserable since the time that he got a concussion and Madam Pomfrey told him that caffeine would interfere with the potion she gave him." Seeing the confused expressions on the faces of the two Gryffindors faces she said, "Nothing gets between Blaise and his coffee."
"Right," said Harry slowly. "Wait. He's miserable?"
"Yup. Miserable as sin. You think it has something to do with Granger?"
"Probably," Ron said. "We want to have a word with him. Any idea where he is?"
"Down by the lake," was Pansy's reply. "Swimming." She smirked. "He says swimming, but Daphne and I reckon he's trying to drown himself." She looked around, peering over her piles of books. "Speaking of Daphne, she went to get a book ten minutes ago and hasn't come back. I think she's got lost."
Ron grinned. "Thanks, Pansy." He kissed her quickly on the cheek, blushing furiously when he saw Harry's facial expression.
As they walked down to the lake, Harry asked, "Are we going to support this?"
"Support what?" Ron pushed open a door and they stepped outside into the January sunlight.
"Hermione and Blaise."
"I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't," Ron grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Cold, isn't it?" he asked, his breath making a cloud in the air."Yeah," Harry agreed despondently.
Ron looked sideways at Harry. "You don't seem too happy, Harry."
"I've never… well, apart from Krum, I've never thought that Hermione was interested in boys."
"You thought she liked girls?" Ron teased with a grin. His cheeks had begun to go red from the cold.
"No!" Harry protested, hitting Ron on the arm. "It's just that… she's Hermione. It's weird to think of her fancying someone." The Boy Who Lived looked slyly at Ron. "So how long have you and Pansy been going out?"
"I dunno. Erm, September?" Harry had a feeling that it was not the cold that was making the top of Ron's ears red. "I first realised she wasn't the spawn of some evil Slytherin demon on the train to Hogwarts, though," he confided. "Did you know her parents were both Ravenclaws?"
Harry shook his head. "She always struck me as one of those 'Slytherin for more generations than I can count' types."
"Nah. Her family's actually quite young compared to some." Grabbing hold of a branch to keep his footing on the icy ground, Ron descended some stone steps down to the lake. "Can you see Zabini anywhere?"
"Aren't we supposed to call him Blaise?" Harry asked, scanning the lake.
Ron snorted. "I'll call him whatever the bloody hell I want to call him."
Pointing out at a dark spot on the lake, Harry asked, "Is that him? Pansy's right - he is swimming. The water must be freezing." He shivered just thinking about the icy water.
They set off round to where Harry had spotted the dark shape on the lake. As they edged closer to the water, Ron nearly tripped over. Steadying himself and ignoring Harry's chuckles, he turned around to see what had caught his food. Instead of finding a branch or stone, he spotted a pile of material. Picking it up, he found that it was a set of robes with the Slytherin insignia on it. "I'm guessing this is Zabini's," he said.
"Yeah, and I'd appreciate it if you gave it back," the Slytherin said, appearing next to Ron. He was barefoot, but was still as tall as the redhead was. He scowling darkly, snatching the robes and pulling them on over his wet skin. His dark hair was sticking to his face, wet from the lake.
"Aren't you cold?" Harry asked, incredulously.
"Only now that I'm out of the water. What are you two doing down here?" he asked pointedly, before shaking his head in attempt to rid his hair of the water.
"Looking for you," Ron said casually. "Any idea why Hermione is sulking in her dormitory?"
"That time of the month?" Blaise asked, pushing damp hair from his eyes and shoving his hands in his pockets. He avoided the gaze of the two Gryffindors and bent down to retrieve his shoes from under a bush.
"Even I know that's not the case," Harry said. He glanced at Ron, momentarily unsure. "It isn't, is it?"
"Not for another couple of weeks, by my reckoning," Ron said after a moment of consideration. "We think she fancies you," he told Blaise.
"Does she now?" Blaise asked, shoving a foot roughly into one of his shoes. "I doubt that."
"And I get the impression that Pansy thinks you fancy Hermione."
"Really. How interesting," commented Blaise dryly, making a mental reminder that he really should have killed Pansy when he had the chance; having her boyfriend and his best friend interrogating him was not exactly something he wanted.
"Do you?" Harry asked.
Blaise frowned. "If I say 'yes' will you leave me alone?"
"Yes!" Ron said eagerly.
"Well, fine. I do fancy her," Blaise told them, not at all sure why he was revealing this to them. "But I really don't think she's interested in me." His expression darkening, he added, "In case you weren't aware, she hasn't been happy even since she found out the Krum was murdered."
Making sure that his shoes were done up securely, Blaise said, "Now, if you don't mind, I've got to go and dry off."
Thank Yous: Thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter five - Sneezy Mouse, Hi Im Crazy, imogenhm, phoenixdreams, MissDramatic, alenchic, Broadwaypoetess, Magic Crystal Rose, Merit Somnia, crazley, IsLaNdMoChAgUrL, Sam Fisher's Wife, Procella Nox-noctis, trurockergurl, Mark of CTown, draconas, Spitfireness, Lousie, mydream, SkoosiePants, Samilia, JeanB and ShimmeringEvil.
Love and hugs and coffee,
silverphoenix