Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition

Wigtown Wanderers, Seeker

Prompt:Scorpios are constantly plotting several steps ahead in order to orchestrate an eventual checkmate. This doesn't mean their intentions are necessarily nefarious. Write about a character(s) that seems conniving and manipulative but aren't bad people OR write about a character(s) that manipulate others for their own agendas, whether good or bad.

Word Count: 1110 per GoogleDocs

Betas: Aya

AN: Heads up, Blaise is kind of dark here. And I don't know if his mom is given a name in canon (and I was on the clock, so I didn't check), so I'm gonna call her Claudia. Also, this is very not canon, but let's just go with anyway, all right?

**Warnings for mentions of manipulation, death, and murder**

The Last Name on the List

Blaise carefully corked the vial of glowing purple liquid and slipped out of his stepfather's bedroom. He mentally thanked his mother for not actually wanting to share a bedroom with this one, even if he was almost as rich as her. It made poisoning the glass of water he kept on the nightstand that much easier.

He quietly shut his own bedroom door and padded over to the wall beside his bed. Using a long, cryptic rhythm of wand taps, he revealed a safe, and, after cluing in his magical signature, he opened the door and took out his notes. Crossing the room, he sank into his desk chair.

"Husband Number Nine, check," he muttered, crossing the old man's name off the list.

Though he'd never admit it, Blaise loved the feeling he got when his plans came together perfectly. Sure, he felt a little bad about killing someone, but really it had to be done. And he hadn't had to kill them all.

Just for kicks, Blaise flipped back through his notes on his previous stepfathers.

Number One had been an accidental start of something beautiful. According to the notes Blaise had made from memory, the man hadn't been wealthy, but he had appealed to Mrs. Zabini's love for physical beauty. Yes, Rupert had been handsome, charming, and far too slick. He probably believed that Claudia was an easy mark. What the man hadn't bargained for was the indomitable will of her three year old son.

Rupert had provided the perfect learning environment for Blaise. He quickly picked up on the fact that Rupert hated his cries and whimpers, and he used those to his advantage to get toys and treats. If ever that didn't work, Rupert just disappeared for a few hours and returned after someone else had had time to deal with "the kid." Blaise thought this was a great game. But even though the man was easily manipulated by a toddler, Blaise thought that his mummy cared far too much for this new man in her life.

So he decided to stop responding to sweets and shushes. Blaise followed Rupert around every moment that he could, crying and whining and being as irritating as he could. Like clockwork the man would offer him a piece of candy and, when that didn't work, would disappear for a few hours. As soon as he returned, Blaise attached himself to Rupert's leg and began crying again. After two short months of non-stop aggravation, Rupert left the house in a fit of rage, never to return—he sent the divorce papers to Claudia by owl.

Claudia was quite sad for a while, and Blaise loved getting to crawl in his mummy's lap and be the center of attention. Everything was just how it was meant to be. Then his mummy brought home a new man.

Husbands Two and Three had both been money grubbers disguised as courtiers caught in a whirlwind romance. Blaise had quickly decided to dispatch both of them the same way he'd done with Rupert. They both went down fairly easily, running from the manor with their hands over their ears and their tails between their legs.

Husband Number Four, Baracus, was different. He never showed any sympathy for the crying, whimpering nine year old in front of him, and he never made any bones about it. He'd just throw a silencing charm at the boy and go on his merry way.

After six months of the Whiny Child tactic, Blaise finally snapped.

Baracus was standing on the balcony of his study after dinner, smoking a pipe and avoiding his new family, when Blaise finally found him. He ran up to the man and clung tightly to his leg.

Before Blaise could get a single tear out, Baracus growled, "For Merlin's sake, you stupid kid, just leave me alone." He Silenced Blaise and went back to smoking his pipe. "I swear, if it wasn't for your mother's money, I would just kill you."

Blaise felt anger mixed with something else welling up inside of him. No one talked to him like that!

As quickly as it had come, the something else left his body in a wave. Blaise watched as it shot out of him and smacked into Baracus, sending him tumbling over the railing.

Blaise watched the man cry for help and fumble for his wand as he fell. The five story fall was too short to give him time to defend himself, but it was certainly long enough to kill him.

House elves came running, and Claudia ran out to try to save her already dead husband. Blaise decided that he felt nothing but relief and a sense of accomplishment—he'd succeeded in getting rid of another husband, and it was quite efficient, too. Maybe there was something to this.

After the death of Baracus, Blaise decided to chronicle the manipulations of his stepfathers. He made notes on which tactics were most effective, where they liked to hide, and what it looked like when they were approaching a breaking point. It would help inform him of the best way to deal with future husbands—and knowing his mother, there would be more. With a sense of glee, he also recorded how his first bout of accidental magic killed the target who would not budge.

For all the difficulty he had caused, Baracus had opened Blaise's eyes to something far more important than attention—his mother's fortune. All these men stood to steal the Zabini fortune right out from under Blaise's nose, and that just wouldn't do. He simply would have to take care of anyone that came along. For good.

Looking back, it was possible that his mum had caught on to Blaise's schemes. Husbands Number Five through Eight were all incredibly similar to Baracus in their motives and attitudes, and so Blaise took them all down in a similar way—poisoned brandy, broken racing broom, tainted hair tonic. So easy to take down, so easy to keep out of the way of his own fortune.

Now that he was sixteen and almost of age, Blaise felt no remorse for killing Number Nine. Everything was finally taken care of. When he turned seventeen, he would finally be able to take over the family finances, and no one would be able to take them away from him—except his mother. Now that he thought about it, she did spend a lot of money, and supporting whatever husband she picked up next could possibly get quite expensive.

"Hmmm," Blaise hummed as he scratched his mother's name at the bottom of his list. "Perhaps there's one more thing to take care of after all…"