Title: The Firebrand Chronicles Book Two: After Dark
Summary: No one knew what awaited them upon returning to Hogwarts that year. No one expected a monster to attack the students, and certainly no one expected anyone to assume that Harry Potter was the party responsible. Blaise Zabini certainly didn't. This is his story. Book Two
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter any of its characters or events. They belong to J.K. Rowling
Author's Note: Two more chapters this week because I've been lazy. Sorry all.
Firebrand Chronicles
Book Two: After Dark
Chapter X
This latest attack caused more panic among the students then all the rest combined. This time a ghost had been attacked. What on earth could harm something that was already dead? Whispers swept through the school debating theories and trading attempts at comfort. Dueling lessons continued with a vigor and so did charms club. I was joined in the lessons with Flitwick by two Ravenclaws, a fifth and six year, and a fifth year Hufflepuff. Being the youngest of the group should have put me at a disadvantage, but rather it only encouraged me more to keep up with the others. We may not have been dueling, but we still felt confident that Professor Flitwich could teach us what we felt we needed to know. He continued our practice with disarming and shielding as well as teaching us new spells. We proceeded to learn not only a number of charms, such as creating mirrors by bending light and keeping flowers fresh and dewy, but the history behind them and the rules pertaining to them.
It was here I first learned what might be giving me the most trouble in Transfiguration
"Charms involve changing aspects or adding aspects to an object. Color for example, or extra limbs, or even size which is simply a manipulation of the mass already there," Professor Flitwick explained one session. "Transfiguration changes the very nature of the object." Changing the nature? I found the very concept horrifying. A thing was what it was and should remain so no matter what was done with it.
The whispers and rumors were not the only result of that day. Draco and Theo both seemed to find great enjoyment in calling me "badger boy" for several weeks, though I took it as the good natured fun it was intended to be, a way in which to lessen the tension of a situation which was, in fact, very serious. Not only were students in terror over the reality of a petrified ghost, but rumors abounded each more frightening than the last and the revelation of Potter's ability to speak with snakes and his proximity to the latest attack led people labeling him, incorrectly, as Slytherin's heir. This aggravated the Slytherin house to no end because all of us knew it for the impossibility is was. Even the Weasley twins thought it was a joke so why couldn't the rest of the school force that fact into their thick skulls?
My research of my fellow students concluded that there was no one related, even remotely, to Slytherin at school and that it must be that someone else had discovered the secret. As I had no idea how to determine who that was, I decided to find out who it wasn't. Immediately ruling out all the muggleborns and those who were highly vocal in pro Muggle matters proved easy, but it also meant that most of those left behind on the list of possibilities were my own comrades and I was going to have to resort to spying on them, and carefully at that. Fortunately my string of stepfathers seemed to have trained me to notice what no one else did.
I was forced to put all my activities on hold though, as three days before term ended I received a rather distressing owl. It had promised to be a rather good day. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle had been sharing their plans for Christmas with me when a large barn owl swooped in. In its beak an envelope, baring the ministry's emblem, sealed with a black ribbon.
It winged its way through the other owls to drop the letter before me before swooping out again. Hesitantly I reached for it hand shaking. I had never seen one, but I knew what it was. I never noticed Professor Snape making his way towards me from the head table. Only that the envelope was addressed to me.
Mr. Blaise A. Zabini
Slytherin house
Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Breaking open the seal I read the enclosed:
Mr Zabini,
It is my regret to inform you that as of 11:01 last evening, the body of your step-father Millard G. Facet was found and recovered after his accidental disappearance within the flue network and a fifteen hour search, from the residence of Aden Quinby who had unfortunately been keeping and experimenting on a manticore. Mr. Quinby has been charged with accidental manslaughter and improper housing of a magical creature. Unfortunately your house elf will also be undergoing inspection.
You have my sincerest condolences.
John H. Calaban
Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Ministry of Magic
P.S. Your Mother had asked us to enclose a letter of her own.
My face must have been pale, Millard's death aside the words house elf and inspection were running through my mind. Did they suspect me of something? House elf's acted on orders. Or had Bert decided to obey somebody else and kill the man. Mother . . . no even she wouldn't sink that far . . .
"Blaise are you alright?" Pansy asked standing and reaching for me across the table. I ignored her and reached for Mother's letter.
My son,
As you have heard Millard has left us. I am sorry that this is how you were told about this, but I did not want to say anything at all until we could be certain of his fate. I know you wished to stay at Hogwarts this winter but it would bring me great comfort if you could come home, and even greater comfort if you could do so immediately. I want to know you are safe
It was not signed.
"Blaise? Blaise, what's wrong?" Pansy's voiced asked somewhat franticly in my ear.
"Mr. Zabini?" Professor Snape's voice rumbled behind me.
I turned and looked at him handing him the letters and finally finding some words in my muddled brain. "I need to go home, Professor." I stated, upset not because my stepfather was dead, but because it seemed my house elf, and possibly me, had been implicated. He scanned the pages and set them down the table beside me. Pansy reached for the letters and I made no moved to stop her.
"Go pack Mr. Zabini, I'll see to your transportation and inform the other professors," he said in a voice that could actually be called gentle.
"Thank your sir," I managed. He nodded and headed back to the head table.
I don't know how I managed to make it back to my dorm. I had never liked Millard, he was responsible for Damian's death, but I had never imagined he might die too, much less in a way that implicated me. Mother was obviously distraught and Abby . . . I don't know if Abby was old enough to understand what had happened, I don't think it had even sunk in for me yet. Not that I was going to cry, but the rest of them might be grieving and I had to be there to make sure no one took advantage the way they had last time. I had to be there to protect my family, and that included Bert.
Professor Snape came to find me several hours later entering the room with a knock on the door frame. "Ready?"
"Yes sir." I answered throwing the last of my cloths in my truck. I left Bandit asleep on the bed having arranged for Pansy to bring her back on the train.
"With recent events the ministry doesn't want us connecting the flue back to your house just yet so I'm going to take you." With a wave of his wand my truck was shrunk to the size of a shoebox and with the addition of a lightening charm I was able to tuck in under one arm.
Some minutes later we were beyond the school gates and Professor Snape turned to me.
"Have you ever apparated before?"
"No sir we always use the flue," I answered flatly.
"Alright I want you to hold tightly to my elbow and do not let go whatever you feel." I held on, Professor Snape turned on the spot and then we were at Applegate manor's front gate. Apparation felt rather like being squeezed from all sides and then folded in on oneself. I stumbled as we reappeared, managing to catch myself on the gate even as I shot a questioning look at the Professor who had moved to open it.
"I'll come in with you if you don't mind," he stated simply.
"Of course." I lead the way through the gate, up the drive, over front steps, and into our entrance hall. The house was silent. I looked around confused. The Professor followed me in also seeming puzzled by the quiet. I had never thought that having requested my presence Mother might not be there to greet me, though that seemed that was exactly why the Professor had chosen to accompany me.
Upon entering I set my trunk aside and the Professor restored it to original size.
"Mother?" I called my voice echoing off the walls. Seconds later a tiny body streaked from the ball room and attached itself to my leg.
"Blaise, home!" Abby's voice squeaked and I picked her up and she snuggled into my shoulder.
"Abby, where's Mother?" I questioned gently.
"Library," came the small reply from the face buried in my shirt.
"Professor?" I started and stopped unsure how to proceed.
"I'll come" he answered the unfinished question, "for a few minutes at least."
Carrying Abby I lead the way through a door to the left of the foot of the main stairs, and through a back hallway to the library. I opened the door and stepped through immediately realizing we had other company.
Two men stood in the library, one as dark as I, the other pale and light haired. One I knew, one I did not. Mother and Janice were seated on the sofa and Bert huddled on the floor in from of them. The men turned as Professor Snape and I entered. Janice rose, took Abby and left.
"Severus," the dark man nodded. I recognized him as the family lawyer or rather I should say my biological father Saxton's lawyer and now Mother's. We had known him officially for years though I knew little about him personally other than he had also once been a friend of Damian's.
"Gayold." Professor Snape nodded back. "Madam, I offer my condolences," he said to Mother.
"Thank you," came the dry reply. "Thank you for brining my son home." Professor Snape nodded clapped a hand on my shoulder, and left the room. Part of me wished he would stay, and part of me feared it. For at the sight of Bert on the floor I knew what must have happened, and I knew beyond doubt that this whole mess was all my fault.