The Moon. The Hanged Man. No matter how many times Sapphy laid the Tarot cards out, they spelled the same thing. The High Priestess. Ten of Swords. The Star. The cards glowed in the warm candle-light of the Room of Requirement. Ever since she had decided to help Blaise she had been hiding away in The Room, which had transformed itself into a beautiful, high ceilinged chamber with bright cream walls, a sea of flickering candles and a lushly carpeted floor - much more modern than Professor Trelawney's stuffy lair and perfect for a practising Seer. She sat at the table in the Room's centre, where she had spent the last few days trying to delve into Blaise's problem with her favourite deck. She didn't like what they were telling her. Two of Swords. Knight of Swords. Justice. And the outcome card… well that didn't make sense at all. She shook her head slightly, deciding not to think about that particular one.
The meanings of the others were obvious. The Moon represented a mystery to be solved. Laying across it, obstructing progress, was The Empress - a mother figure. Below was The Hanged Man, meaning a recent change in perspective. And above, The High Priestess, a woman with psychic wisdom. This card confirmed for Sapphy that her dream in the garden hadn't just been a dream… and she had been trying to convince herself that it was.
She was the High Priestess, and she would have to help him. But this seemed an almost impossible task. There were so many swords in his past and present. He had a bloodied history that made her feel slightly sick just seeing it there on the cards. It was like his horrible red aura - her whole body was urging her to keep away from him and out of this business altogether.
"And how could I be the High Priestess?" Sapphy asked herself out loud. "She's wise, powerful, mystical… and I cry like a little girl every time I have a vision."
She sat brooding in the peaceful silence for a moment. And then there was a loud thudding that jolted her from her seat. She froze like a frightened hare, her eyes fixed on the wall that joined The Room to the corridor beyond. More thudding, louder this time, and accompanied by a volley of muffled curses. Deciding that the Room would keep her safe, she crept to the wall, and placed an ear against it gingerly.
Whoever was trying to gain entry was still cursing, but their voice was merely an angry murmuring behind the wall… Sapphy closed her eyes and concentrated, imagining that it was glass and she could see straight through. A pale, pinched face crowned with white blonde hair swam before her eyes. Draco Malfoy glared straight at her for a moment. His aura was no longer the unusual, bright silver she remembered. Now it was a dark murky grey, with tinges of thunderous purple that seemed to roil around him as he turned and stormed away.
"So Sapphy, about this Christmas party…"
Sapphy threw her quill down with annoyance. "I've already told you everything I know!" she grumbled, shooting Lisa a glare. "Slughorn didn't mention whether Wayne was going." 'Wayne' was a codename for "Harry Potter" that Lisa had introduced in their second year so she could be free to refer to the object of her affections without being overheard. If anyone was interested in their discussion, she reasoned, they would assume she was in love with Wayne Hopkins, a rather dim Hufflepuff boy who rarely spoke and was utterly harmless.
Professor Flitwick cleared his throat pointedly from where he stood on his stack of books at the top of the Charms classroom. "As I was saying," he squeaked. "You should all nearly be up to scratch on the Augamenti charm now, and after you are tested on it we will be moving onto a very useful little charm that will allow you to change vinegar into wine." Most of the class seemed to perk up at this.
"But did he say anything about guests?" Lisa probed eagerly - for at least the fifth time. A harassed looking Terry shushed her loudly from a few tables over. No doubt he was envisioning the kind of raucous post-exam celebrations a vinegar-into-wine charm might afford them.
"I told you," Sapphy whispered impatiently. "I don't remember."
Lisa sat back and thought for a moment. "Ok… but if you can bring guests, and I need you to find that out for me straight away, I have about a month and a half to get Ha- I mean, Wayne..." she spluttered, glancing behind her with paranoia to where Harry sat three desks behind them next to Hermione Granger. "I have a month and a half to get Wayne to ask me to go."
Privately, Sapphy thought that if Lisa hadn't managed to speak to Harry in over five years worth of Charms lessons together, this was probably rather unlikely. The bell rang and Sapphy hurried to pack up her things and made a dash for the door.
She had a heavy feeling in her stomach as she made her way down the chilly third floor corridor towards History of Magic. A plan had formed in her mind the night before, but it was not a plan she was keen to carry out. As she entered the classroom she saw with a pang of dread that the seat next to Daphne Greengrass at the back of the classroom, usually occupied by Theodore Nott, was empty once again. Nervously and before she could change her mind, Sapphy took it.
Lavender Brown, who had been smiling in welcome at the front, looked away quickly with a slightly hurt expression. Sapphy's feeling of unease doubled.
Daphne gave her a quick, tight smile - though her silvery blue eyes remained cold - and resumed examining a handful of sharp pointy talons. She began to tap each one with the tip of her wand, turning them all a different shade of green. Sapphy noticed how long and graceful her white fingers were, and that they were bejewelled with silver rings of emerald, jade and opal.
"I do try to represent my house through my fashion choices, but green nails are just gruesome, don't you think?" she remarked in a soft, sugary voice. She waved her wand with a slight flourish and her nails were suddenly black and encrusted with what looked like tiny diamonds. "Better," she decided, flipping her silky, dark hair over one shoulder and looking bored as Professor Binns began the lesson.
After considering and quickly discarding several potential ice breakers, Sapphy finally decided on one. "Is Theodore ill today?" she whispered hesitantly.
Daphne arched one dark, perfectly groomed eyebrow and shot her a sharp look. There was an uncomfortable pause and for a minute Sapphy thought her question was going to be ignored completely.
"Theo no longer feels that the education Hogwarts offers will be of any benefit to him next year," she whispered finally. "Apparently his father's rather colourful… connections", she continued, her voice dripping with meaning, "will be enough to secure him with the work free, luxurious future he for some reason feels entitled to." She sniffed contemptuously and Sapphy's stomach gave a horrible lurch as it dawned on her what she meant. Daphne smirked, enjoying Sapphy's obvious discomfort, as she used her peacock feather quill to ink her parchment with tiny black stars. Professor Binns, floating a few inches above his seat at the top of the class, began to drone on about Giant Wars, picking up from the place he had finished last week as if there had been no interruption.
"I blame Draco, personally," Daphne continued, a slight edge to her voice. "Where that boy goes, cretins seem to follow. It's an utter tragedy that all these bright, young minds will all be going to waste," she sighed. "Think of the contributions Crabbe and Goyle could have made to the realm of magical scholastics. Blaise is the only one still swotting away," she said with a yawn.
At this Sapphy squirmed a little, and could feel her cheeks turning pink. Daphne looked at her in amusement.
"So it's young Zabini you're curious about. How disappointing, Sapphire. I would have credited you with more imagination than that." She stretched languorously while Professor Binns' monotonous voice went on. "Though you're certainly not the first to fall under the charm of those big, golden eyes. You'll have to fight Millicent Bulstrode off for a start." She snorted nastily at the thought of this. "But haven't I seen you canoodling with that Proudlock boy?" Her voice was cold, now. "Pretty dishy, for a mudblood."
Sapphy gritted her teeth and decided not to give Daphne the reaction she was looking for. "What do you know about Zabini's background?" she whispered.
"What's it worth?" Daphne shot back with a smirk.
"Gold?"
Daphne looked at her pityingly. "I have enough of that."
"I'll do your homework for you?"
"Hannah Abott has that covered," she said in a bored voice. "I know quite a hilarious secret of hers that will get around if she refuses."
Sapphy glanced over at Hannah who had shadows under her eyes and seemed on the brink of collapse onto her copy of A History of Magic. Sapphy paused, pretending to think. "I'll read your palm," she said eventually, in a tone that suggested that this was the last resort.
Daphne looked at her appraisingly. Sapphy could tell she was trying to keep a poker face, but there was an unmissable glint of eagerness in her blue eyes.
"Alright," she said, stretching out one of her beautiful white hands with barely a glance at Professor Binns. Both girls knew he was unlikely to notice if they burst into raucous song and dance so a little palmistry probably wouldn't be a problem.
Relieved, Sapphy took Daphne's hand and began to examine the lines of her palm and testing the little mounds under her fingers for firmness.
"High, firm mount of Jupiter," Sapphy murmured. "That means a lot of intelligence, ambition… You'll be a leader in whatever you choose to do."
Daphne didn't look surprised at this.
"Low mount of Murcury, an interest in aesthetics, poetry, art. And prominent mount of Luna, lots of creativity. High, soft mount of Apollo - a people person, proud, manipulative. You'll do… something in the media?"
She had guessed right. Daphne was looking at her hungrily.
"Yes, I want to start my own magazine," she whsipered. "I've written a few articles for the Prophet already, you know, from a student's perspective... and Barnabas Cuffe says I'm a natural. Witch Weekly is such a rag that there's a big gap in the market for a proper magical fashion magazine, with an edgy gossip column. Not full of boring old recipes and house-hold spells." She looked cunningly at Sapphy. "I could use a good Seer slash Agony Aunt section, too. If you ever need a job…"
Sapphy couldn't help smiling ruefully at her shameless hustling. "I'll send you an owl if I do. Anyway, your heart line…"
At this, Daphne snatched her hand back.
"That's alright," she snarled. "I've heard all I need to know."
Sapphy smiled. "And I've seen all I need to know. You've been betrayed in love… and with an old friend?"
Daphne looked furious now.
"Hmmm, I seem to recall you and Pansy Parkinson being inseparable until around our fourth year. And from what I saw… it looks like this boy who drove you apart back then is going to come back into your life."
She waited a moment to let a glimmer of hope shine in Daphne's eyes - before squashing it.
"The line crosses through your heart, friendship and family line. You have a younger sister, don't you?" There was a confused pause as Daphne glared at her suspiciously.
"Well, my guess is that Draco is going to marry her. Unless, of course," Sapphy grinned. "Mrs. Greengrass has a taste for younger men?"
Daphne had tears of rage in her eyes now, and her breathing was shallow, her face thunderous. "Very well played, I must admit," she spat.
"Yeah, I'm pretty happy with how we stand now," Sapphy said pleasantly. "You don't tell anyone that I asked about Blaise, I don't tell anyone that you're still in love with Draco Malfoy, that he dumped you for Pansy… and that he was always a little more interested in your little sister, anyway."
There was a lull as the two girls glared at each other and Professor Binns took a deep breath - before continuing in a voice even more boring than before. In the seat in front of them Hannah Abbott had dozed off; she was drooling onto a copy of A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot.
"So Blaise," Sapphy prompted. "His background, please."
Daphne shot her a nasty look and tried to compose herself. After some fiddling with her compact mirror, she took a deep, unsteady breath and began.
"His father was a wealthy Italian Count of very pure blood - descended from the Boleyn's on his mother's side apparently. He caused quite the scandal when he chose Madam Z as a wife, because she's not exactly from an aristocratic background," she murmured. "There have been rumours that she's not even fully human... but part Veela." Sapphy could tell that Daphne was starting to enjoy this juicy gossip session now, despite herself. "I mean, a black woman with such bright blonde hair is pretty unusual. Her maiden name is Cleo Shafiq. You'd know about them, they're a very old wizarding family." Sapphy shrugged. Though she was pureblood her own family had never cared about such things.
"Anyway, Count Mortimer died a few weeks after Blaise was born," Daphne continued, casually inspecting her nails again. "Fell from the highest tower in their little castello." Sapphy shuddered inwardly. "But what Madame Z didn't know was that her poor dead hubby had another son, an eighteen year old boy, the Viscount Luca Zabini. He had been stashed away at Durmstrang the whole time, and sent to stay with relatives during the holidays," Daphne smirked. "Zabini Senior knew she was only interested in the inheritance, and he was so desperately in lust with her that he had left out the part about the other heir and Blaise only being the spare. So when the son returns home, what does good old Contesse Cleo do?" Daphne smiled gleefully. "She seduces him and convinces him to marry his own step-mummy."
"One thing you have to admire about Cleo Zabini - pure, unadulterated tencacity," said Daphne. "Yeah, that's one word for it," Sapphy muttered, rolling her eyes.
"The young guy didn't last too long, either. By all accounts, he was a whiney, snivelly little thing with a nasty temper. About a month into the marriage he got into a duel with his best friend, who apparently had offended him by insulting his virtuous wife." Daphne snickered. "His friend denied ever doing anything of the sort, but I don't need to be a Seer like you to guess who might have told Luca he did. He wasn't exactly a duelling champion, and got in the way of his own confunding spell and somehow managed to break his neck… what an idiot."
The bell rang, and Sapphy was relieved not to have to hear anymore. "We'll have to reconvene next class," she muttered, as nearby slumbering students began to rouse. Sapphy nodded curtly at Daphne and walked out of the classroom. She was halfway down the corridor when she heard Daphne calling out.
"Sapphire, wait-"
She stopped, glancing around nervously as students and teachers milled past. She didn't particularly want to be spotted gossiping with Daphne Greengrass.
"Why did he choose Pansy?" she asked imploringly. All her bravado was gone now. She was just a heartbroken girl. "What does she have that I don't?"
Sapphy sighed. "Do you really think you'd be his type? Draco Malfoy isn't exactly going to appreciate a successful, ambitious woman. My guess is that your sister is about as vapid as Pansy and as pretty as you?"
Daphne gave a hollow laugh and nodded. "I hope you enjoyed part one of A History of Zabini," she said bitterly. "Part two and three are even better," she said over her shoulder as she turned and walked away.