Chapter 3. Xenia Verdi.
Well, even the new location brought no real change in the conditions of her detainment.
Xenia smiled in the gloom of her new cell: what else could she do? She paced the stone-walled room, trying not to worry and not top think of what lay ahead. And about Lily.
She forced herself to block the mental link to save her strength. If something bad happened to her friend, Xenia would sense it anyway: strong emotions would penetrate any block. And she could use all the strength she had now.
So, it was the Zabini after all; perhaps, only pawns in someone else's game, but they were involved. And, somehow, that gave her hope. Maybe because Xenia knew them – both Fritz and Priscilla. She could guess at what turn the events could take. And, knowing that, it was easier to prepare for it.
She must have drifted off, standing by the cool wall, for she started when she heard footsteps in the dark corridor. The candle light approached slowly, with Fritz Zabini's figure becoming visible just as slowly. He didn't say anything, staring at his captive, then opened the door with a grating sound and grumbled:
"Let's go."
Xenia obediently followed the chap, sensing upset, anger and hope coming off him in waves.
"Where are we going?" Xenia asked, surprised at Fritz's walking in front of her without looking back; he seemed unconcerned that she could attack him from behind.
"Walk on and be quiet," Fritz grumbled once again, shifting his shoulders uneasily. For a moment, the girl was hopeful that he would let her go; but only for a moment. Because this would not be at all like Zabini; they were anything but altruistic…
They followed the dark hallways and Xenia suddenly became aware that her guide was saying something: very quietly, as though talking to himself. She tried to catch the words, walking as quietly as she could.
"Not a dolt… Simply ill… She'll understand… "I'll prove to her…"
Xenia relaxed, for the first time beginning to make sense of this. So, Fritz had spoken to his sister, who was disagreeing with him about something. And now they were doing Priscilla's bidding. What was it?
"Fritz, do you know what will happen to Lily?" Xenia asked a very different question from the one that was on her mind.
"The gingers of this world were never very lucky," Fritz smirked, looking back at her for the first time. He looked gloating.
The girl fell silent – it appeared that Fritz didn't know anything himself.
"Where are we going?"
"We are here," the chap pushed the wall and it slowly slid aside. They found themselves in a well-lit corridor, full of sunlight. There were three doors, one of them ajar, with voices coming from it.
"Be quiet," Fritz hissed, nudging Xenia toward another door.
They entered, Zabini closed the door thoroughly behind them and waved his wand, clearly casting protective spells.
From the chair rose Priscilla Zabini. She glanced at Xenia and shifted her cold eyes to her brother:
"So, this is you yet another stupid joke…"
Priscilla sank back into the chair; Xenia noticed that her beautifully shaped, antique statue-like arms trembled with fatigue.
"I think we ought to order mourning cloaks," she said, looking at no one in particular.
Fritz was clearly afraid for his sister; he dashed toward her, clasping his hands almost pleadingly:
"Let her help you, Pris…"
"You fool!" Priscilla hissed, glaring at him witheringly, pushing him away. "The cloak for your funeral!"
"What?" the chap was clearly at a loss. Xenia was still standing by the door, warching Priscilla warily. So, that's what Fritz needed her for. And Priscilla really was ill. "For my…?"
"Yes, because Malfoy and his buddy Potter will grind you into Floo powder and toss it into the nearest fireplace," Zabini said cruelly, nodding at the captive frozen by the door. "And I shall not move a finger to stop them."
"They don't know she is here," Fritz said, clearly proud of himself, his back straitening. "They have been here already and didn't find anything."
"Don't hold Malfoy for an idiot! It won't be the first time you underestimated him! And so did I…"
Xenia watched Priscilla closely. It seemed to her that the girl could have said these words with love, if not for the hatred she had for Scorpius. Or was it that love and hatred had long mixed together in Priscilla Zabini's dark soul?
"He won't know," stubbornly, childishly insisted Fritz. It seemed that the brother and sister had forgotten all about Xenia's presence. "She will cure you, and then it won't matter; let them do with me what they will."
These words appeared to shift something about the room. At least, Priscilla's facial expression changed: she was now looking at Fritz with almost pity.
"You dolt," she said softer now, turning toward the window. "They are using you, and you are perfectly happy to let them."
"Using me?"
"Yes!" she got to her feet, looking at Fritz. "What do you have that head for?! Do you think that this secret avenger would give up – out of the goodness of his heart – part of the leverage he has over Malfoy – the man he allegedly aims to destroy?"
"He said that he didn't need…"
"Shut up! You ought to think for yourself!" Priscilla shouted, but then took a deep sigh and spoke softer: "When Malfoy learns that his cousin is here," Zabini pointed at the still motionless Xenia, "you won't be able to convince him that you don't know where his redhead girlfriend is."
"Wife," Xenia spoke out for the first time, leaning against the wall.
"What?" Fritz started, and Priscilla blanched, sinking into the chair. She seemed on the point of gasping.
"Lily is Scorpius' wife," the healer remarked, smiling softly.
"Fritz, you are a dead man," Priscilla stated plainly. "You were played. While Malfoy is torturing you, the other one will laugh on the sidelines, continuing with his game, in which you, my silly little brother, are but a pawn."
The younger Zabini seemed to be catching on. He became very pale and shrank back against the wall, looking helplessly at his sister:
"He won't… But you… Pris! I… I simply want to help you!"
"You can't help me!"
"She is a great healer," the chap pointed a finger at Xenia, who straightened up, "you know that! Everyone knows that she saved Harry Potter…"
"Don't put so much stock in rumours," Priscilla replied coldly, back to her chair.
"She will help you! I'll force her!"
"I do not need to be forced," Xenia spoke calmly, drawing both Zabinis gazes. "If I am able to help, I shall. But you must let me go, it is very important."
"No, you will stay and cure Priscilla!" Fritz said angrily.
"Shut up, both of you," Zabini cut them off coldly. She raised her eyes to her brother: "Leave us."
"What?"
"Leave us alone."
Fritz froze in consternation, looking from Priscilla to Xenia. Then he started toward the door, still struggling to understand.
"If anything, I…"
"Get out," Priscilla said, angrily now.
The door closed on Fritz, leaving the two girls in silence. Zabini stared at the curtains of her four-poster bed.
"Priscilla, what's wrong with you?" Xenia asked calmly.
They did not know each other well, although they shared a room for a time at Hogwarts. Xenia could only remember a couple of occasions on which they spoke: the usual girly chit-chat, or about Hogwarts. It was during Xenia's first week at the school. After that, the werewolves entered their lives, and the girls found themselves on the opposite sides of the barricade. Xenia remembered Priscilla on the evening when Scorpius Malfoy paid a visit to her and Fritz, burning with hatred for Lily's kidnapping. Xenia never felt that hatred – maybe because revenge was never an option for her.
"I don't need your care," Zabini responded promptly, staring coldly at Xenia. "You can't help."
"You were examined at St. Mungo's, weren't you? What did the doctors say?"
"Whatever the newspapers reported."
"And in truth?" Xenia watched the other girl closely, and was not able to find a single symptom consistent with the diagnosis the reporters conveyed. No, her mind seemed perfectly sound.
"Never mind," Priscilla stood up. She appeared to be pondering something, trying to find a way out of the precarious situation he brother found himself in. "I cannot just let you go, it is absurd…"
Xenia was silent, looking at the girl. What did Azkaban do to her? The healers were not likely to simply let her go. There must be something that forced the examiners let Priscilla go home. Something that made her incarceration pointless; that made punishment irrelevant…
"You are dying, aren't you?" Xenia asked softly. Priscilla started, turned sharply, nearly dropping the cup on the tea service table. "And your family don't know about it. Fritz doesn't know."
Priscilla was silent, seemingly at a loss for words. Or unwilling to say anything. She watched Xenia coldly for several moments, then nodded, her mind made up.
"I cannot let you go. But I shall make my move before the secret benefactor, who set my naïve brother up so brilliantly, makes his. I shall outplay him."
Xenia looked questioningly at Priscilla.
"I shall be the one to tell Malfoy everything."