Chapter Six: Reclaimed
McGonagall, Madame Pomphrey, Blaise, Hagrid and Snape had all gathered in Dumbledore's office, staring on in shock at the makeshift hospital bed and ward Pomphrey had set up. In that bed lay Albus Dumbledore, a man they all believed to be dead. All except for Blaise. Blaise sat in a chair, next to the bed. His shoulders were back, his chest puffed out proudly. There was an I'm-the-most-awesome-person-ever look on his face and he stopped occassionally to look adoringly at his manicure, or to scent the air. Several mediwands were free floating around Dumbledore, each doing their own thing. One gave a constant reading on different vital signs, another spewed a continuous flow of helpful and healing medical spells. Yet another one made the oxygen as pure as possible. Another IV like contraption was hooked up to Dumbledore, much like Draco's, steadily pumping helpful potions into the old wizard. No one, except Blaise of course, could believe what they were seeing. Hagrid had been the one to go with Blaise (due to a few well placed hexes, against his will) and retrieve the Headmaster, and even he couldn't believe what he saw.
Blaise's contribution to the whole set up, besides the actual wizard, Blaise reminded himself, were the lemon drops. They stood alone, pristinely waiting on a table beside the bed. Blaise liked that touch the best he thought. It kinda warmed up the whole scene.
"Can I *go* now? I really *really* need a shower. I've done my bit. I need a nap too. It takes quite a bit of rest to look this good you know," he drawled, feeling more like Draco. McGonagall and the others simply just nodded their heads in his general direction- still just staring at the wounded old man.
"He'll be okay you know. While we were moving him around, trying to get here, he would wake up and talk to us some. Just a little though." No one replied. Blaise sighed, "I'm going to go check on Draco." He offered. No one seemed to hear him this time either, "whatever. I got stuff to do." he snapped and walked off. No one really appreciated him as much as he thought he ought to be appreciated.
It didn't take long to get in and out of the shower and dressed in his silk robes his mother had bought for him. He briefly wondered how much longer his mum and Aunt Cissa would be out from the sleeping potion Uncle Sev had given them. Oh boy, he wanted to be awake from that. A lot of people thought Blaise and Draco's tempers were atrocious. What most didn't realize that it was really just the dilluted down attitude of their mothers. He snickered to himself and covered the last few feet between him and Draco's bed in the big empty room. Yet, he couldn't open the curtains. Between his spell, Pomphrey's and he suspected Potter's as well, there was no way. Potter must be rather good at charms too, he thought placing his own back on the curtains and turning to leave. It was a beautiful night he noticed, gazing through the window.
It had been a long time since Blaise had noticed the beautiful night sky or thet moon. It had been months since he'd noticed the sweltering weather he and Draco had suffered through, hiding in some of the most terrible places, afraid to use their magic. Fall was on it's way now. He hadn't noticed a lot of things, he supposed, not even the slightly changing leaves, the smell of autumn on the breeze, not even that same breeze cooling his still damp skin, not even that... that smell.
Blaise Zanbini snapped to attention. He'd know that scent anywhere. It was his bondmate. He was close to his bondmate. He rushed to the window, almost appearing to have apparated there from using so much speed. A smallish figure was down by the lake, throwing stones into the water, watching them skip. Blaise scented the air again, his nostrils flaring. Excitement and adrenaline pushed through him as he realized that he was right, that was his bondmate, and he couldn't wait to meet him.
Blaise Zabini was still very weak from all the strenuous activity he'd bee through in... Merlin, he didn't know how long it had been since he'd gotten sleep. Or eaten. He didn't care though. He'd found his bondmate. He rushed through the castle, skipping whole flights of stares. Several times, he tried to compose himself but could not, not until he was closer. Blaise felt as if he'd been waiting for this moment his whole life, and technically he had. Nothing could surpass this. This was what Blaise had lived and breathed for. This person he was quickly approaching was the reason he survived Voldemort, the reason he'd crawled through his own blood to escape, and the reason he lived and breathed. He had to meet them, had to touch them.
"Slow your roll," he commanded of himself, approaching the lake, "don't wanna scare them. Gotta be cool, gotta be calm." He was talking to himself, verbally coaching himself. But he didn't care. He could see the dark silhouette in the distance, readying to throw another stone. "Just be yourself," Blaise whispered to himself.
"OI! Who's over there?!" He barked, smiling when the figure jumped, startled. Then the person fell. Into the lake. Blaise's smile shattered and he raced toward them, ripping his clothes off as he ran.
The water was icy and did it's best to steal the breath from Blaise Zabini's lungs. He ignored the pain, the numb skin and swam deeper, feeling out his bondmate through their actual bond. Grabbing a fist full of cloak, he ripped the person from the lake that wanted to claim them, knowing that his love was still alive, only because he was himself still breathing. His face broke through the water first, pulling his mate up with him- kicking hard against the almost frozen water. His bondmate thrashed in his arms, trying to swim out as well. Blaise held tightly, however and managed to get them to the shore- dragging their bodies up onto the mud as quickly as he could.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." He chanted over and over like a mantra, standing at his mate's back, obviously a male at this point.
"Will you shut up?" The young man snapped after a few moments of trying to catch his breath. Blaise shut up instantly. "You know what... that was bad *I'm* sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you, you didn't mean to frighten me like that I'm sure..." his mate was saying as he turned to face the Magiodrago.
Blaise stood there, eyes wide open, heart pumping, breath held as his mate, his love, turned and lifted his head, staring back at him.
Neville Longbottom.
Gryffindor's accident waiting to happen.
Blaise smiled. He was perfect, "Hullo Neville. I'm sorry. Hullo."
"Um, hi. Blaise isn't it? Slytherin dorms, Zabini, I believe?" Blaise trembled at the sound of his name and only nodded, feeling his organs flip flop about his body.
"Eh... did you know you're nearly naked?" Neville ventured. Blaise nodded again. He was only wearing his boxers now, he'd stripped everything else off running for the lake, "aren't you cold?" Neville asked.
"No," Blaise shook his head, "but I bet you are. Here take my cloak. Just throw that one down. It's probably ruined. Don't fret, I'll get you another one..." he ambled before stopping himself. Didn't want to look stupid did he?
"How are you not cold?" Neville asked, teeth chattering, "we should go inside."
"You're going to get sick." Blaise said worriedly, scooping Neville up without warning and holding him against his body. A Magiodrago radiated heat as they had a certain...fire...within them. He pushed it out onto Neville, who seemed terribly frightened and probably freaking out, but otherwise okay.
They got to the castle quicker than Neville thought possible. When Blaise sat him down and he looked back out to the lake and realized the distance, he gasped.
"How did you do that?" His eyes were wide, his mouth open. Blaise pulled himself out of another staring trance, but could only say,
"I'm fast." Smooth. Real smooth. I'm fast? Derrrr. Blaise's mind berated itself. Maybe the cold water had effected him after all.
"You're already dry too," Neville pointed out.
"I'm hot too." Blaise said, failing desperately at intelligent conversation. In his mind he was screaming at himself, storming back and forth- waving his arms wildly. ABORT! ABORT! FOR GOD SAKES MAN, GET OUTTA THERE! But, instead of running away, Blaise just sat there. Staring.
"You're...uhhhh... kinda weird, huh?" Neville asked, grinning.
"You have no idea." Blaise said, giving his best Slytherin smile. Neville shivered. Even though they were in the castle he was still wet, still cold. The sly smile Blaise was practically blaring at him didn't help either. He started to back away.
"I'm... uhh... going to change clothes and dry off... thank you. For saving me I mean. Guess... I'll see you around?" Red colored alarms went off in Blaise's head. Neville was leaving. He was frightened. Blaise could sense it. He fought to gain control of this nonsense.
"Uhm, you want me to walk you up there? You might be sicker than you think or something." He offered. Neville stared in reply. "Or... or I could help you dry off. ARGH! With magic I mean... magic. Yes. Then maybe eat something? You should always eat something after an incident like that... ugh..."
"You're still naked." Neville interrupted him. He *was* hungry but Zabini's clothes were outside. All he wore were a pair of boxers, not even shoes. How would that look if any one found them?
"Idon'tcare." Blaise said, shrugging. He was nervous now. He was failing so badly it was legendary. Draco would piss himself laughing if he could see this. THE silver tongued Slytherin- drowning in failure. No words could escape his mouth over a fifth grade level. Then, horror of all horrors, his Magiodrago side betrayed him. Stabbed him in the back, ripping his wings off and slit his throat all at once as he said, "GODyouareSOfuckingbeautiful." Blaise moaned in despair, covering his face with his hand. Mayday, mayday, he thought, you're going down. In a blaze. He couldn't even grin at his own pun. He couldn't even form words into sentences now. They were just all bundled together.
"Um... thank you... I think. Listen, I left my wand in my trunk upstairs. I think there's something pretty wrong with you..." Oh, but no, Blaise thought; I've never felt more right. "...maybe you hit your head or something. I'm pretty good at medical magic. You want to come with me and let me check you out?" Blaise nodded, thinking hard about checking Neville out instead. All night.