A/N: This is the second draft of this chapter, and, boy . . . talk about a pain to figure out how to approach this meeting. I must thank stella8h8chang profusely for her awesome read-through of both versions (the crap one and this one!). I hope you like this; I'm very happy with how this one came out.

The Zacharias Smith discussion was inspired by the awesome writings of cesaretech on LJ and "The Heir of Hufflepuff" series. Which made me realize that I like Zacharias Smith, the big prat.

Rated T for language. I own nothing.


Chapter 19: Tension Within the Ranks

"Um, right. Okay." Neville clapped and rubbed his hands together addressing all the students who were currently present in the Room of Requirement. It was eight o'clock Saturday night and the first meeting of Dumbledore's Army was just getting underway.

"I . . . well, I'm not really sure where to begin." He scratched his head.

"Neville, you called the meeting." Michael Corner spoke up. "It's your show."

A general chorus of assents floated around the room.

Neville grinned, albeit shakily, but he cleared his throat. "Okay, but I'm no Harry Potter or anything—"

"Nope! You're Neville Longbottom!"

He blushed as Hannah Abbott pumped her fist in the air, encouraging him to continue. "Right . . . well, hold on." He looked at Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones and Ernie Macmillan. "We're missing people. Ones that are here at Hogwarts--"

Susan Bones nodded, an annoyed look on her face. "It's Zacharias. He's, er . . . being stubborn."

Ginny snorted and rolled her eyes. "Figures."

"He's under a lot of pressure," Ernie said with an indignant tone. "I know not everyone here likes him—"

There was general assenting to this particular observation about Zacharias Smith, who was almost universally regarded as a prat. Ernie rolled his eyes.

"—But," he huffed, "his father's putting a lot of pressure on him, to keep his nose clean. To stay out of trouble." Ernie shook his head.

"Ernie," Terry Boot interrupted, "exactly how much trouble can Smith get into? He's the bloody heir to Hepzibah Smith and a direct ancestor to Helga Hufflepuff!"

Ernie shrugged. "I- . . . I don't know. It's his parents that are hounding him. I don't agree with it, but it's his decision. His call." He shook his head in resignation. "It's not mine. And, I don't want to speak for the rest of us," he pointed at Hannah, Susan and himself, "but I don't like what's going on here at Hogwarts. I don't like it one bit!"

Neville lifted his brow and nodded. "It is your decision, Ernie." He looked around the room. "All of us do have a choice, right? And I wanted to bring all of you together because," he gestured to Seamus, "as you can probably figure out, this year's not going to be a good one. We've already seen how Amycus Carrow's willing to treat people who don't fall in line with him."

Seamus raised his hand high in the air. "My ear can attest to that one, personally!"

The others giggled and snorted.

"And we've all seen those lesson plans of the Carrows, er . . . especially the one in Muggle Studies."

"She's vile and ignorant," Anthony interrupted, "Muggles haven't ever engaged in pervasive mass wizard slaughtering! And no, Padma . . . the Salem Witch Trials of 1692 don't count." He shot Padma Patil a pointed look, silencing her attempt at clarification. "They don't treat us like pigs, nor do they act like pigs! There's plenty of documentation prior to the Statute of Wizarding Secrecy of 1692 that Muggles and wizards can and have co-existed peacefully together." He shrugged. "There has to be context to some of this information! But Alecto? She's an absolute disgrace to academia!"

"Hear, hear!" Ernie pounded his palm on the floor. "Unfortunately both Carrows are here, and they're spreading that filth . . . that hogswallop, and the Ministry approves it! We can't do anything about it!"

"Well, anything legal."

Everyone turned back to Neville Longbottom. Ginny noticed a sly grin winding its way across his face. "What I mean is that the Ministry's put a lot of measures in place that are not all that agreeable with me. And," he gestured around the room, "we may need to think outside the box on this one. Like I said before, it's your choice. You can stay, or if you feel squeamish about this, you can leave."

Ginny smiled at Neville, her eyes wide with surprise at his newly authoritative tone. She barely noticed that his fingers and hand were trembling slightly as he pointed to the door.

Here was Neville, turning into the very leader that Dumbledore's Army needed in Harry's absence.

She looked around the room, seeing whether or not there were any students who weren't willing to participate in this project. No one moved. Everyone stayed right where they were seated.

Neville turned toward Daphne and held his hand out to her. "Well, Daphne?" She stepped forward a bit, and coughed. She was clearly nervous, as the parchment she was holding in her hand was shaking furiously.

"Er . . . okay th-then," she started, her voice shaking.

"Whoo-hoo!" Michael Corner said quietly, with a small fist pump in the air. He winked at her encouragingly, and Ginny saw Daphne's face redden as she smiled at Michael's reassurance.

"So, I've actually done quite a bit of work on this." She started speaking quietly, far quieter than Ginny had ever known her to be. "And the stuff that the Ministry drew on to create all that anti-Muggle-born propaganda — you all know what I'm talking about, right?"

The group nodded.

"There're the anti-Muggle-born pamphlets, and the Minister's public addresses, calling on half-bloods and pure-bloods to 'inform'," she mimed quotation marks with her fingers, "the Ministry about Muggle-borns that might be in hiding. They're justifying the round-up on public health and safety concerns."

"They're calling them 'non-magical persons illegally obtaining and carrying wands'." Susan Bones shook her head. "I wish Auntie Amelia could've been here to see this," she looked around the room. "She'd have been utterly sick about it!"

Daphne nodded, as did the others. "And it provides their justification to round up Muggle-borns too." She swallowed. "To throw them into Azkaban. Or . . . worse."

The comment was met with silence from the room. She continued to speak.

"The Ministry bases all of these points on the research done by Phillip Marcus Stallsworth, the so-called 'Healer'. Stallsworth's research seemed to prove all these claims, and they've stood for so long without any publicized opposition because Stallsworth came from an esteemed line of Healers. Stallsworth had money. Stallsworth had power. He had the ear of the wizarding world's leaders."

"Wasn't his research really popular in the early and middle parts of this century?" Padma Patil pressed a finger to her lips, thinking through something. "It seemed to coincide with Grindelwald's rise to power and then again during the first war?"

Daphne nodded. "It was used as justify anti-Muggle-born crimes during both those times." She shrugged. "No one seemed to question it, right? None of you can think of any Healer or Sanguigeneticist that has spoken out against Stallsworth, can you?"

Daphne looked about the room; the others shook their heads.

"S'pose the world was too busy trying to rebuild all the damage from the wars?" Michael piped up.

Anthony nodded at his friend. "Or 'The Healer's' ideas had taken such a strong hold on the society already that it was impossible for anyone to believe other Healers with different theories."

Daphne shrugged. "Whatever happened, his views flirted between becoming the accepted wisdom of the day, or something that you don't discuss in polite company, but you talk about behind closed doors." She gestured to the two Ravenclaws. "So either's possible. But, the most frustrating part? All of that research refuting him? Right here!" She pointed to the floor. "At Hogwarts. But no one's been willing to actually look through the Parchment Archive to find them. "And so, I- . . ." she breathed out nervously, "I wanted to create a place where this research could be made public."

"What do you mean?" Hannah Abbott gave Daphne a very curious look, and a smile that seemed a bit apologetic. "We can't really talk about something like that openly around here. Particularly with the Carrows."

"They'll turn us in under the Sedition Act." Ernie nodded. Then he snorted. "Actually, they'll probably just find reasons to get us anyway—"

"Right." Daphne voice grew stronger. "They're gonna get us somehow, so we might as well try to do something . . . I dunno—"

Neville smiled at her sentiment. "Good, you mean?"

"Yeah." Daphne grinned. "But we've gotta be careful. So we came up with this idea of pamphlets that requires a phrase to break the Concealment Charm on them."

There were several curious murmurs and whispers around the room.

"We'll give each of you a pamphlet with instructions about how to duplicate them, courtesy of Luna," she gestured to the blonde Ravenclaw, who smiled serenely and waved at the room, "and you can distribute them to the other students in your Houses. Just be careful whom you give them to." Daphne sucked in a breath. "Make sure that they can be trusted. And," she raised her finger for one final point, "tell them that all the information in this pamphlet can be found right in our library. They just have to ask Pince about the Parchment Archive—"

"Um, well, I hate to interrupt you while you're on a roll, but," Anthony Goldstein spoke up, "but this could mean bad news for your research."

Daphne turned and looked at Anthony Goldstein with a troubled expression. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I just thought about this, but what if you get caught, or any one of us gets caught with these." Anthony held up his parchment. "We probably should've discussed this more with you earlier, but you get caught, they'll trace all of this back to the sources, right? And they'll destroy all of this information." He peered at Daphne in a very curious way. "Do you know if there are duplicates of this information other than what's at Hogwarts?"

She let out a breath. "Damn! I hadn't thought about—" Daphne started rubbing her forehead, frustrated. Ginny let out a sigh. In all the excitement of piecing together the parchment, none of the girls had thought about protecting the actual reference and research materials. They had been too focused on the pamphlets themselves.

"Duplicate them all!"

Ginny watched as the entire room turned to face Luna Lovegood.

We've got my father's Doubling Charms, in all its variations. Use them on all the documents and start duplicating them. We can hide the copies somewhere safe!" Luna looked around the Room of Requirement. "This room would be great to hide something in."

"Daphne, it could work," Ginny said, shrugging slightly. "Why don't we work on it, okay?"

The Slytherin nodded. "That might be a big project, though." And then she smiled.

Ginny couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her. "You look like you've already got a plan."

"Not so much a plan as," she smirked, "maybe I can use this, y'know?"

"What do you mean?"

Daphne didn't answer Ginny's question. Instead, she turned back to the others, holding up her arms to get them to quiet down.

"Okay . . . okay," she said loudly. "I'm thinking that, if we're gonna be doing this document duplication thing, then we'll need a lot of help with this." Daphne swallowed and took a deep breath. "I might have to bring in my partner—"

"Whoa! Hold on."

She turned around to face Neville. Behind them, several murmurs once again arose around the room. "This is a really sensitive matter, right? We can't just allow anyone to have access to our meetings or the things we say in here."

"W-well," Daphne winced and grunted, "h-he wants to be a part of this too, Neville. A-and . . . I've brought this."

She reached into her robes and pulled out a small vial of a clear liquid. She shook it in front of Neville's face, and held it up to show the others. "Veritaserum. I nicked it from Slughorn's office."

(Oh for Godric's sake!)

(Why in the world would she do that? Does it really necessitate this extreme—)

(Who the hell is her partner?)

Ginny heard an odd sound from the back of the room, like somebody had just hissed and kicked at something. When she turned around, there was nobody there.

But that didn't take her mind completely away from the fact that Daphne had stolen a very powerful truth serum from her Potions Master.

"You nicked Veritaserum?" Michael exclaimed. He stood up and stared right at her. "Bloody hell, Daphne! Was that really necessary?"

Daphne nodded. Ginny noticed that her face was growing more and more anxious as Michael reacted to her admission. "I think it is, and you'll understand when you see who my partner is. We can use it on him to prove that he's trustworthy."

"Him?" Michael shook his head. "Who in the world's your partner?" He asked the question in a milder voice than before, but Ginny saw an odd look of concern mixed with something akin to jealousy or anger plastered all over his face.

Every head ping-ponged back and forth between the Ravenclaw boy and the Slytherin girl. Daphne stood her ground, but she kept her voice even in tone and her face soft. She spoke directly to Michael but loudly enough so the whole room would hear her.

"Michael. Trust me. Please. The way I see it, give him one to two drops of this," she held up the bottle once again, "and save the rest of it for later. From the looks of it, even from this small vial alone, we might have enough for twenty doses, if necessary." She slowly shook her head, but maintained eye contact with him. "Desperate times, Michael."

Ginny found herself breathing out as Michael's face softened even more.

"Desperate measures, huh?"

Daphne smiled at him. "Now, I want you to think. You know whom I've associated with in my house. Last year. This year, too. Our first week back—"

Now, Michael's face erupted.

"Blaise Zabini?!" He never looked so disgusted.

Ginny hissed. Outrage poured out from the others.

"No! No way!" Ernie Macmillan insisted.

"Horrible idea, Daphne," piped up Anthony.

"That bastard told Su Li she should be put down like an animal. For being Muggle-born, Daphne!" Ginny had never seen such a livid expression on Terry Boot's face. "He's got no problems whatsoever tossing out the M-word like it's nothing!"

Ginny spoke up, trying to keep a lid on her anger out of respect for Daphne, but feeling her blood boil nonetheless. "He called me a blood traitor several times. And I never liked the way he looked at Dean. He was disgusted by him!" She shivered. "He disgusts me too, if I'm honest."

Michael shook his head. "You can't be serious. Please tell me you're not serious!"

Daphne walked up to Michael and looked him squarely in the eyes. "I am. And, if you know me, then you know that people can change, right?"

He stopped and looked at her. Ginny could tell his resolve was breaking.

"Michael, why do you think I spent so much time with him? I was talking to him the entire time."

"About?"

"This stuff," she waved a parchment in front of his face. "All the stuff that's in the pamphlet. It's because of him that I found out about all this research, and I was able to write my articles about it! He even gave me the idea to write this out in the first place. He helped me write them out." Her voice softened. She cupped his cheeks and gave his head a small shake. "Can you please trust me? That I know what I'm doing?"

Michael flushed at her touch. "D-Daphne . . . er, the others—?"

"Sod the others!" She spoke quietly to him and him alone. "Do you trust me?"

Ginny could hear the slightest amount of fear creeping into her voice.

"This isn't like last year, Michael. I'm not doing what I did last year. I- . . . I just want to know if you're behind me."

Ginny watched as he shut his eyes and nodded, a small smile poking through his face. "I'll trust you."

Daphne mouthed a "thank you" to him, and kissed him on the cheek. Blushing and clearing her throat, she walked back up to the front of the room.

"All right. Are we all in agreement that the Ministry's going to come down really hard on witches and wizards that don't fit the status quo?"

"Yeah, but wha' the hell does tha' have to do with that utter pig rectum Zabini?" Seamus said angrily. He gestured wildly at Daphne.

"I'll . . . er, let him tell you."

Several shocked gasps and huffs echoed throughout the Room. Ginny watched as Daphne's shoulder's sagged, the reaction to her announcement clearly weighing her down. Just as Ginny was about to say something to her, Daphne turned to her left and whispered something into the air—

Except, it wasn't merely "air". There was a strange rippling effect, which Ginny recognized as an Invisibility Cloak being flung off of a person.

And standing before the now-outraged Dumbledore's Army, was none other than Blaise Zabini himself, all tall, dark, handsome . . . and glowering. A number of yells and protests filled the room.

Ginny sucked in a breath. "Oh Daphne! You've got to be kidding—"

"Feckin' hell! He was here the entire time?!" Seamus yelled.

"We're doomed!" Padma shook her head.

Neville stormed towards Daphne. "This wasn't right. You should've told someone he was going to be here—"

"Like how Harry and Hermione told all of you that they invited me to join Dumbledore's Army back in our fifth year?" She shot Neville a very serious look. "Neville, I get your concerns. But I stand by Blaise. And I'm confident," she held up the vial of Veritaserum again, "that if you administer this, it'll tell you everything you need to know about Blaise's true intentions."

"Well," Blaise stepped forward, his face clearly saying that he was about to let loose his acid tongue, "as much as I would like to participate in your little discussion about whether I'm trustworthy or not, I'd like to just tell the entire room that I did not agree to be poisoned!"

"Blaise, you idiot! Veritaserum's not poison. You know that!"

He glared at Daphne. "This is all your fault! They don't want anything to do with me—"

"Do you blame us?" The two red-faced Slytherins turned towards Neville. Never had such a deadly glare passed through the Gryffindor boy's eyes. "Zabini, you've done nothing but treat Muggle-born wizards and witches with contempt and disgust. You don't care about whom you've hurt or how your insults hurt others." His nostrils flared; Ginny found herself, for the first time, truly intimidated by Neville. He seemed to have forgotten the others in the room, and had turned all of his attention to the Slytherin interloper. "So," Neville regarded Daphne with a stern expression, and shook his head, "maybe we will use it after all."

Blaise hissed and shut his eyes very tightly. He hunched his shoulders and very nearly retreated into himself. "Will it make any difference if I just went ahead and . . . " he swallowed, "told people why I'm here? Why I want to be here?"

Neville crossed his arms. Ginny was struck by the bizarre turn of events. Blaise Zabini, heretofore "King of Slytherin House" appeared humbled and nervous — Ginny was certain that it was the first time that he had ever looked like this. Neville, on the other hand, stood before him as an imposing and clearly dominating figure. It seemed that, in mere minutes, the balance of power had switched between the two pure-bloods. Ginny blinked rapidly and took a deep breath to come back to her senses.

Neville stepped towards Blaise. "All right. Say what you need to, Zabini."

"Nev? C'mon! Y' can't seriously be considering—"

"Seamus, I . . . I just think that . . ." Neville turned to his other Gryffindors and the rest of the DA. "We did give Daphne a shot with us. We've been fine having her in the DA," he held his hand out to her, and Daphne gave him a small, awkward smile, "She's one of us." Neville smiled. "And she trusts Zabini," he nodded to the other Slytherin, "so maybe we should trust her judgment on this. Leave the past in the past." He looked at Seamus. "He might be able to help us out at some point in the future."

The Gryffindor sat back down, but his nostrils still flared and his jaw was still set angrily.

Neville gestured to Blaise, "You've got the floor."

Blaise glared at Neville, then at Daphne for a few brief moments, and then shook his body. He looked as if he was getting ready to say something to the audience, and he had to mentally gird himself.

Taking a breath, Blaise began. "As many of you know, I have . . ." he searched for the right words, "not been the most supportive of Mud – . . ." Blaise and Daphne both winced, and Daphne smacked her forehead, "Muggle-borns," he continued. "I think I've done some things to people in this room and to your friends. If I have hurt anyone, then I'm sorry."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Blaise, if you apologize, don't bloody add a qualifier!"

Blaise hissed at her, but turned back to his audience. "I – apologize! For hurting you and your friends."

"Well," shouted Anthony Goldstein, "not accepted!" A chorus of angry "Yeahs!" and "Tell him, Goldstein!" filled the Room.

"That's the least apologetic apology I've ever heard!" Michael exclaimed.

Blaise shook his head, and turned around as if to leave, but Daphne put her hands on his shoulders. He faced the angry mob again. "I want to help all of you. I honestly want to be here and be a part of Dumbledore's Army."

Blaise was mumbling, but Ginny noted his contrite expression. She didn't really want to admit it to herself, but watching him so closely, observing his face and his body, Ginny felt a little niggling sensation creep from the back of her mind.

She didn't want to believe it, but Blaise Zabini actually seemed sincere.

(Well . . . so long as he's not speaking!)

Michael crossed his arms and glared at him. "Why should we believe you?"

"That's right!" Seamus spoke up. "Ya've done nothin' but cursed and insulted our friends. Dean told me how y' taunted 'im! Y' even tried to hex him! What the fuck makes you think we're gonna be lettin' you in here?!"

"I'd like the answer to that myself," Ginny said. Despite her growing doubts that he had an ulterior motive for being here, she felt herself growing more and more angry. She couldn't help but remember the insults that had streamed out of Blaise Zabini's mouth; those painful memories were making her wand hand very twitchy.

Daphne turned to Blaise. "You need to tell them."

"No, I don't!"

"Blaise—"

"This was a mistake. A big mistake." To Ginny's surprise, Blaise Zabini's face had fallen, and she could definitely hear nervous tension creeping into his voice. He rubbed his forehead as if he ached.

"Blaise," Daphne said, quietly. Her hand grasped his shoulder. Blaise patted it gently twice, shut his eyes and stood up.

Ginny could see his chin tremble, and he sucked in his cheeks and his lips and then—

"I'm g- . . ." Blaise stopped. Daphne's hand squeezed his shoulder.

Taking one more breath, Blaise spoke up loudly.

"I'm gah- . . .er, g-gay." He finished his sentence with an awkward squeak and proceeded to turn such a violent red, Ginny thought blood would start gushing out of every hole on his face.

(What?!)

(He's gay?)

(Oh!)

(He's gay! Wait . . . HE'S GAY?!)

Ginny felt the atmosphere of the room shift, much as her own attitude had in the split seconds that followed the announcement. Michael Corner's livid face froze and melted into one of shock. Ernie Macmillan inhaled very deeply and exclaimed, "Whoa!" Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein looked at each other, mouthing, "Ew!"

Seamus stared at him, his look of fury morphing into something that resembled disgust.

Luna Lovegood was the first to step forward; she put her hand on Blaise's shoulder. The Slytherin looked at her confused, as if he wasn't sure if he should recoil from the contact or simply go along with it.

"Well, I for one think that all of us would benefit from feeling more gay. Especially in these dark times!"

Ginny's eyes went wide, as did Daphne's . . . as did the rest of Dumbledore's Army.

Blaise's mouth merely fell open.

"What?" Luna said, looking around the room befuddled at their reactions. "I see nothing wrong with feeling more gay and more happy—"

Seamus snorted loudly.

"And if Blaise feels like this, then by all means, he should be allowed!"

Daphne shook her head and she walked up to Luna. "Er . . . Luna, when Blaise says he's gay, what he means is . . ." and she leaned over to whisper into the Ravenclaw's ear. Luna's eyes widened just a little bit and she pressed her fingertips over her mouth, which was shaped into a very round "O"! Luna exhaled and nodded slowly.

"I see. But why is that such a problem?"

Daphne stared at her. "Because he's not going to have any children. There's no way a wizard can get pregnant. No potions or spells, or anything! And . . . I dunno. There are people that think it's not part of the 'natural order" or somethin'—"

Blaise groaned and smacked his forehead. "Why do we need to talk about this?"

"But if he's in love with someone and he's not hurting anyone with his relationship, then it's not wrong. Falling in love is never wrong . . . well, unless you're a Snorkack and you mate with a Slashkilter from Stoats Glen. And then that's really only because the Slashkilter would be apt to eat their own young, particularly with the Snorkack blood in them. Slashkilters are enormously bloodthirsty creatures!"

Ginny bit her lip, trying hard not to laugh. Several of the others, including Michael, Terry and Anthony were doing the same, pressing their fists into their mouths.

Daphne blinked several times in disbelief and shook her head very quickly. "Er . . . okay? Well," she addressed the others in the room, "now you know. Blaise?"

All eyes turned to look at the Slytherin boy. Seamus still looked like he was stewing about something, but he was trying to keep it bottled up. Lavender, Parvati, and Hannah seemed to show some degrees of understanding, even sympathy toward the Slytherin boy who had just come out of the closet.

Ginny noticed that out of all the girls in the room, only Padma and Susan Bones had expressions similar to Seamus. She wasn't quite sure whether that meant they had problems with Blaise himself or Blaise's announcement.

The Slytherin boy looked around the room, flexing his cheek and jaw muscles. He turned his eyes to the floor of the Room and kicked at the smooth stone a few times. He then started speaking in a voice that was soft, almost apologetic in tone.

"I'm g-gay, and I've been in a relationship with another wizard for almost tw-two years, now."

The more Ginny watched him, the more she realized Blaise was trembling. He grabbed at his mouth and his chin, his face quivering from nerves or trepidation about how they would react to his announcement, she could only guess. He took in several deep breaths that rattled as they expelled from his mouth and he kept shaking his head back and forth, forgetting that he was still standing in front of a very captive audience.

"Whatever! This still doesn't mean he's not a rat bastard!" Seamus finally spoke up. "How do we know that he's not gonna sell us out?"

Blaise glared at the Gryffindor and pursed his lips together. "Is there no one in this room that fully trusts me? Except for Daphne?"

Luna was the only one who raised her hand. "I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, Blaise!"

He groaned. "Great," he muttered sarcastically.

Luna merely grinned. "You're quite welcome!"

Biting his lip, he turned slowly towards Neville and gave him a single nod. "I'll submit myself to," he pointed limply at the vial Daphne was continuing to hold, "that, if only to prove that I'm telling all of you the bloody truth! How's that?" He spat out the last word and crossed his arms.

"How do we know that it'll even work on you? There are a couple of ways to circumvent Verita—"

"Well, Miss Bones," Blaise interrrupted Susan's question with his sarcastic drawl, "I have not ingested any antidote for Veritaserum in the past twenty-four to forty-eight hours, I have never learned Occlumency ever, and Daphne can tell you that I only just found out she planned this little ambush—"

"Oh bloody hell! D'ya have to be so dramatic?" Daphne huffed.

He shrugged. "Desperate times, dearest Daphne!" She rolled her eyes at him once again. "Plus, you can include those questions in your little interrogation of me. Deal?"

Susan merely cocked her eyebrow at him.

"Well, since you're agreeing to this, Blaise," Neville started and he scrunched up the right side of his face for just a moment—

A big comfy chair appeared just behind Blaise. Neville let out a little sigh of relief. "Glad that worked." He gestured for Blaise to sit down.

Daphne's eyes shifted between her Slytherin friend and the little vial filled with the colorless liquid. "Blaise, do you want me to give you this?"

"I don't care who gives it to me." He waved his hand dismissively at her. "Just get this over with!"

"Just remember, one drop is effective for twenty-four hours. If I give you two, I'll take you straightaway to Pomfrey and make up some 'accidental Veritaserum ingestion' story."

"Whatever. Let's do this!"

Taking a very slow, very deep breath, Daphne lifted the stopper off of the vial. Ginny strained to watch Daphne gingerly tip the vial, now angled just above Blaise's mouth, and she tapped it twice with her fingertips. She exhaled slowly, and brought the small bottle back to an upright position. Blaise's face relaxed almost instantly; his eyes glazed over, focusing on nothing.

Plunging the stopper back on, Daphne nodded to Neville.

"Um . . . okay." Neville turned and looked at Ginny with a grimace on his face. She gave him a thumbs-up.

"You'll do fine, Nev."

"Just make sure I don't forget anything, all right?" Neville gave her a small grin and turned back to the now-dosed Slytherin. He coughed to clear his throat.

"Your full name?"

"I'm Blaise Fedele Zabini," he said in a steady, monotone voice.

"Are . . . uh, ah-are you, wait a second." Neville closed his mouth and lightly tapped his finger in the air, as if creating some sort of quiet, mental rhythm. "Okay, have you taken any antidote for Veritaserum over the last forty-eight hours?"

"No."

"Have you ever learned Occlumency?"

"I have not."

"Did you know that Daphne brought Veritaserum to the meeting today?" Neville asked in a steady voice.

"I did not know she was going to bring Veritaserum." Blaise's voice sounded distant, as if it were detached from his own body.

"All right. Have you told anyone else about this meeting?"

"No I haven't."

"Good. Now . . . do you want to join Dumbledore's Army?"

"Yes I do."

Neville let out a breath, as did almost all of the others in the Room, save for Daphne and Luna, who merely smiled a little more wide at Blaise. "And why do you want to join?" He kept his voice steady and cool, although Ginny could see just the slightest trembling in his hands.

"Because I think that Dumbledore's Army is right and I do not agree with the Ministry's position about Muggle-borns."

"Wow," Neville snapped his head back and breathed out. "Um, Blaise . . . ah-are you currently planning on, er . . . turning any of us in to Snape?"

"No." The rumblings in the Room grew even louder, and Neville waved his hands in the air to quiet the noise.

"Would you turn us in to Amycus or Alecto Carrow?"

"No."

"A-and . . . are you telling the truth? That you're, er . . . gay?" Neville winced as he asked the question. He leaned over and whispered to Ginny. "Is that all right? To even ask that?"

Ginny shrugged. "I think so. Dunno why anyone would make that up. But I think it's good to verify the reasons why he wants to do this."

Blaise nodded. "I am. I've been seeing another wizard for over a year now. Going on two."

"Last questions." Neville bent over and peered at Blaise's face very carefully. "Is the fact that you're in a relationship with another wizard one of the main reasons why you want to help us out?"

Blaise nodded. "It is."

"Why?" Neville held his breath.

"Because I fear the Ministry will come after us because we're different. And it will make him very happy." He finished speaking with a smile.

Neville stood back up and looked at the others. "I can't think of anything else to ask him. Can any of you?"

The others looked amongst themselves, rather stunned at the outcome of the interrogation. Seamus still regarded Blaise with a skeptical stare.

"Even if he means it now, doesn't mean he won't in the future! He's still a Slytherin bastard!" The Irish lad spoke in a menacing tone.

"Thanks, Seamus!"

Everyone turned and watched Daphne Greengrass shoot Seamus a dangerous glare. "I suppose you think I'm some ratty Slytherin bitch, huh?"

"I didn't mean you," he responded in a miffed, slightly exasperated tone.

"Well, how else am I supposed to take it when you say shit like that?" She angrily thrust her hand out towards him.

Seamus muttered something under his breath.

"I didn't catch that."

"I said that I neva' 'eard ya say half the shite I know he says—!"

"Said, Seamus."

"Whatever! And besides," Seamus sneered at Blaise, "wha' he is? Is just wrong. I don' think that just because he's a bloody knobjockey doesn't mean he's hurtin' more than Dean. Or any other Muggle-borns out there!"

"But it does mean he's got a lot to lose in this new regime, Seamus." Neville interrupted. "And I think he's serious. No one can lie under Veritaserum, and, for right now, he's telling the truth. Plus," Neville shrugged. "Did you see he's got an Invisibility Cloak?"

Daphne smirked. "Rolling in the Galleons, his mummy is. He's had that for a while. It's what he used to sneak around the school in fifth and sixth year. To be with his sweetheart." She batted her eyes, her voice sickly sweet. "Mummy spoiled him rotten. She just didn't know why he wanted it!"

Neville chuckled. "I've got a feeling that that might come in handy at some point. Seamus, we've gotta all be in this together." He held out his hand to his fellow Gryffindor. "Are you in or are you out?"

Seamus took one final look at Blaise as the Slytherin wizard continued to sit in his comfy chair staring out at nothing. He turned back to Neville, nodded once and gave a solid pump of his hand.

"Fine. Deal. But I get first dibs at that prick if he steps out of line."

Daphne shrugged. "I'm pretty sure you won't be alone there, Finnigan."