Miss. Independent
By: Arabella
Chapter Ten: Let Go My Eggo
"What're you playing at, Dumbledore?" Harry demanded.
"Harry, I highly doubt Mr. Zabini's the one you're looking for"
"How're you so sure?" He blurted out, unable to control his worry as he paced the Headmaster's office, "I mean, you've already allowed Malfoy in, but now Zabini? Why in the hell do you think the Ministry seized his home!"
"Harry, even if I have allowed the wrong type in, it's better for them to be here and under our watch, rather than out terrorizing the innocent, don't you agree"
"Oh yes, it makes perfect sense to let the deatheater terrify the school, rather than anyone else. What do you think Molly Weasley would say if she knew?" He wasn't quite sure, but Harry thought that he saw Dumbledore pale slightly.
"Now Harry, there's no need to inform Molly about this..." He started.
"Hermione and Ginny in danger isn't something she should know, Headmaster?"
"Well.."
Harry finally stopped pacing and sank wearily into a comfortable chair, waving off the rest of Dumbledore's sentence. "With all due respect, sir. Save it. She already knows they're in danger, in case you've forgotten the family clock."
Dumbledore really was starting to dislike that clock. "So she does. Does she know about the missing deatheater?"
"No. But, that didn't stop her from flooing me at 3 in the bloody morning." Harry recalled bitterly.
-Flashback-
"HARRY POTTER, You get out of that bed this INSTANT!"
Harry blinked. And then he blinked again. Was Molly Weasley brandishing a soapy pot at him? He must be hallucinating.
"Well? What are you waiting for! UP. UP!"
Unfortunately for Harry, he wasn't hallucinating.
He sat up, pulling the covers about him, "What is it Mrs.Weasley?"
"Don't you act all innocent, Harry, you're an auror now, you know the score, so tell me what you know!"
"Mrs. Weasley, calm down, what's going on!" Now a bit more aware, he grabbed his glasses.
"This is what's going on, Harry." She gestured over her shoulder at the family clock. Harry squinted at it, and sure enough, Ginny's arrow was pointed towards 'Mortal Peril.'
"Damn." He muttered.
-End Flashback-
"How long did it take to calm, Molly?"
"A good hour, but only because I slipped some brandy in her tea. I probably should be expecting a howler for that."
"I apologize, Harry, but I'm not changing my mind about any of the new teachers."
"Well, that's your prerogative, but mine is safety, so Kingsley's asked for me to stay here for extra protection."
"Of course. I believe I know just where to put you."
Harry wasn't quite sure he liked the grin on Dumbledore's face.
--
Insanity.
This is exactly where being nice gets you. He'd been decent to the red, mop-headed Weasel, and it had gotten Blaise pissed at him. He'd been fairly nice (for him, anyway) to Granger, and she'd gone off and married that prat. But noo..."Be Nice" He mimicked his boss, "Earn trust..blah." If that stupid Weasley runt would bother listening to anyone and not be so damn stubborn, life would be so much easier. But no, she just has to go and make herself a constant target, in turn making the situation harder for him. As for bushy-haired & buck-toothed, he could care less. That little slap of hers had taught him right quick. He didn't know what had possessed him to try his luck with her in the first place. All he knew was that it was a shame to waste a life pining after something that was unattainable. Whether it was a dead fiancée, or a bastard father's love.
Forgetting all that, he just hated being nice. Being bad was much more fun. Though this good thing did have it's advantages. No one ever questioned him, at least, not with Blaise around. They all thought he was the evil one, which left him the plenty of room to operate in. If only he could figure out just what was going on. Draco's neck prickled, he noticed a dark haired blur in the reflection of the window.
"Potter, are you going to stare at my butt all night, or are you going to come in?"
Harry blanched at the thought, and stepped into his new quarters.
"How'd you know?"
"The stench." He smirked, at least he could depend on Potter for a punching bag.
Harry grumbled something before throwing a duffle bag onto the floor. Malfoy raised a brow,
"Just what in the hell do you think you're doing there, Potter?"
"Moving in. Where's the extra room?"
"Dumbledore?"
"Yes."
Maybe they didn't trust him as much as he thought.
"Third door on the left. Told you he was a crazy old coot."
"Sod off."
Yep, Absolute Insanity.
--
"Ahh.." Ginny sighed contentedly. She squeezed her eyes shut and stretched languidly. Saturday had many nice attributes, a day to sleep in, Hogsmeade visits, meatball day in the great hall, and better yet, a day for quidditch! Forcing her eyes to open, she pushed the covers back.
"Wow Weasley, nice PJs." Her eyes flicked sharply to the end of her bed where Blaise was slumped in her favorite easy chair.
"What the hell are you doing in here?" She demanded, snatching her covers up around her.
"Bloody hell Weasley, I'm not a damn rapist." He groused. "I was bored."
"Oh." What else could she say..? She stared mutely at him.
"I'm making breakfast if you want to join me." He muttered, closing the door quietly behind him.
As soon as the door clicked she fell back into her bed, throwing the covers over her head to hide her blushing cheeks.
"That so could have gone better."
--
That girl would be the death of him. Just who in the bleeping hell wore flannel pajamas with little sheep on them? He'd been hoping she was wearing something skimpy at least. But no. Damn sheep. Ah, but watching her sleep was worth the sheep. The way she'd tossed, grunted in her sleep was downright cute. He'd been about to join her, screw the consequences but then the little twit had woken up and stared at him so strangely he'd felt like an old pervert.
"Ow!" He yelped as he grabbed the hot eggos from the toaster.
"Hot, hot, hot.." he mumbled, hurrying to drop them ontoone of theplates.
He swirled about at a poorly muffled giggle. The damn eggos weren't the only hot ones. Weasley should dress in plainclothes much more often he decided, taking the tight jeans in appreciatively.
"Eggos for breakfast, Zabini?" She quipped, sliding into a seat at the small table.
"The best muggle invention ever, my dear." He took the seat across from her, passing her a plate of eggos and syrup.
"A muggle invention?" She leant over the table and placed the backside of her hand on his forehead, "You feeling alright, Blaise?"
"Well," He sniffed indignantly, "If you don't want them..."
"No!" She squeaked, slapping his hand away from her plate. She studied the eggo cautiously, before breaking off a small piece and eating it. Her eyes lit up, "It's delicious!"
"It's even better when you have syrup with it, you nut. Oh, and you're supposed to eat it with a fork, Weasley."
"Meh." She grumbled, breaking off another piece and dipping it into the darkish liquid on one side of the plate. "Amazing."
"How do you not know about eggos, Weasley? Isn't your father nuts for muggle inventions?"
Her eyes narrowed as she continued to devour the eggos.
"One, It's Ginny, Blaise.
Two,my father isn't nuts, but if he was; only I could say so.
And three,my father's only interested in muggle appliances and machinery."
She punctuated this by scooping up the last bit of syrup on her plate with her little finger, and brought it to her lips. She stopped when she realized Blaise hadn't responded. He was staring at her, eyes suddenly piercing.
"Please, don't stop for me, Ginny."
She ducked her head shyly, licking the syrup from her finger, before standing to clear her mess.
"So, how can you be bored on such a beautiful day, Zabini?"
She flitted to and from the table to the sink, cleaning her dish and replacing items in their proper place. He watched her. She was trouble, this one. She was babbling on about the quidditch game and the Hogsmeade visit today. She reached for his still full plate, and he took her wrist lightly. "One, It's Blaise, Ginny. "
"Two, I'm not finished with my breakfast."
They locked eyes. Hers bright ones were swirling with unadmitted emotion, while his dark ones were filled with desire. She was saying something else, but he didn't quite hear any of it. Instead, he tugged her into his lap.
"And three, quit babbling." He murmured, sliding his hand through her hair and drawing her face down to his.
"I don't babble, you-" she started.
"Shut up." he finished, capturing her lips roughly, he flicked his tongue across them, and then pulled back with a groan, "Damn Weasley, you taste like syrup." She stared at him, "Whose babbling now?" With that, she tread her fingers through his hair and jerked their mouths back together. She'd definitely gotten better at this, he thought as she softly nipped at his lips and introduced her tongue to his mouth. The thought jarred him. He slowly pulled back from her. She looked at him, at first annoyed, but then ashamed. Exactly what he'd been afraid of; he wouldn't be the one who made her do something she regretted. She lifted herself out of his lap quickly and sat back down across from him.
"Sorry about that Weas-Ginny." He started.
"You weren't the only one kissing, Blaise." He looked up at her. She was fumbling with her hands, and looking at the table. He stilled her hands with his, causing her to return his look.
"So where are we at, Ginny?"
"What do you mean?" She asked softly, fearing where he was heading with this question.
"Do we hate each other? Are we...dating? Or are we just friends?"
"It's better for us to be just friends, Blaise." She said, turning her gaze from his again.
His lips twitched with anger, but he pushed it back. He asked, and he shouldn't have asked if didn't want a truthful answer.
"I understand."
She seemed surprised by this, and he couldn't help but quip,
"Friends with benefits, maybe?"
"Oh hush!" She squealed tossing the salt shaker at him.
--
"Watch out for the bludger!" Ginny shouted.
The Gryffindor quidditch team this year was downright dismal. Slytherin was trouncing them quite well, and Blaise, the friend he was, she thought sarcastically, was not going to let her forget it.
After the breakfast incident, Ginny had excused herself to get ready for the quidditch match. She'd intended to go on her own, and meet Hermione, Harry, and Draco there, but Blaise had looked so pathetic laid out in their shared common area that she'd asked him to accompany her. Apparently, he'd never followed much quidditch, and didn't care for flying one bit. Some facts she meant to change about him.
Blaise watched Ginny and the others amused that they got so caught up in the game. Not that he was complaining, whenever those poncy Gryffs managed to score, she would hug him excitedly. He felt someone's eyes on him and looked down past Ginny, also seated with them on the front row, and on Ginny's other side was Harry effing Potter.
The boy who unfortunately for Blaise lived was currently staring lasers into his head. If Ginny hadn't specifically asked him to play nice with her friends, he'd have walloped the day lights out of him already. If nothing else, but for putting his arm around Ginny.
--
Miracles never ceased, and Gryffindor pulled off another score at the goals. Ginny shot to her feet, cheering happily. She turned to Blaise to throw her arms around him, but a hand shot out from no where, giving her a firm enough push to send her over the edge of the box they were seated in. "Ginny!" Blaise shouted, he whipped his wand out and pointed it towards her, muttering a form of the leviosa spell. Ginny then floated to the pitch, landing with a little bump, but over all, she was just fine. The rest of the box breathed a sigh of relief, but Blaise was dashing down the stairs two at a time. And he realized as he burst onto the pitch, that he wasn't alone.
"Ginny!" Harry yelled, running to her side.
She stared at him blankly. "Harry..what happened?"
Harry's eyes grew dark with rage, and he turned to glare at Blaise. "You pushed her, didn't you!"
Of all the things Potter could have said, that was the worst. Before he could stop himself, his fist was connecting with Harry's cheek in a solid punch. "You Fucking Prat. I would never"
"Blaise."
Blaise stopped and looked at Ginny, she was swaying back and forth dangerously. It was then that both he and Harry (Who was on the ground) noticed that whoever had pushed her, had punctured her skin and she was bleeding quite profusely.
"Ginny!" Harry started, steadying her. "That looks like a snake bite. You need to get to the hospital wing!" He started to scoop her up, but found himself on the ground once more.
"Back the fuck off, Potter." Blaise snapped, eyes blazing with a fury Harry had never seen before. He started to get up, but soon found his hand being crushed into the ground by someone else. He looked up, Malfoy smiled at him, and continued to grind his shoe into Potter's hand. Before he could say or try anything else, Zabini was gone, running towards the school.
--
Three hours and a very grumpy Madame Pomfrey later, Blaise was seated next to Ginny's bed. He hadn't pushed her. But who had? She didn't think that he pushed her, did she? Damn that Potter and his theories.
Dumbledore was currentlyon his good side for letting Blaise, not Harry stay by Ginny's side. He'd gave the boy who lived some inane excuse about it was because they lived together. The prat had actually thrown a tizzy.
Blaise sighed, raking his hands over his face wearily. Ginny had been lucky. They had managed to get the poison out of her in time, though she would probably be down a few days, and maybe have a bit of a limp from where the poison had entered her left leg. He ran his fingers down her face, tracing her profile. His eyebrows shot to the ceiling when her hand came up to hold his hand to her cheek.
"Thank you, Blaise." She said softly, before drifting back into a dreamless sleep.
--
"Still pitching a bitch fit, Potter?" Malfoy smirked, watching Harry pace outside the Hogwarts Infirmary.
Harry scowled at him.
"Shut up."
After a another half hour of pacing, Potter threw up his hands, and turned on Draco.
"Why did you stop me, Malfoy?"
"Why, whatever do you mean, Harold?" Draco questioned innocently.
Harry actually growled and shoved Draco into the wall.
"You know what I mean. You don't want them together. Don't act like you do."
Draco's eyes narrowed a fraction and cooled considerably.
"Don't proceed to tell me what I know, Potter." He pushed Harry away from him and straightened his robes.
"I may not have wanted them together then, but now, I'm not going to interfere"
"You sure as hell interfered back in our seventh year!" Harry accused.
"WE, interfered with them, you git!"He spat.
Harry looked at him sharply, before dropping his eyes.
"That's what I thought." Malfoy paced slowly around him in a circle. "It's funny how things change isn't it, Potter? Funny how roles reverse, hmm?"
Harry fixed a glare on Malfoy so potent that he actually stopped his pacing.
"You ever stop me from helping her again, and I'll kill you"
And Malfoy believed him.
--
End Chapter Ten.
--
Coming Soon: Blaise and Hermione turn up some interesting information while looking for the person(s) responsible for what happened to Ginny. Is there really a deatheater at Hogwarts?
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