A/N: 300 chapters! Can you believe it? It seems mad, when I think about it. But I love writing this story, and I'll keep writing it until I'm done, even if it takes another 300 chapters or more :)
Thank you all so much for your reviews and kind words and encouragement! I love reading them all. Thanks for sticking with New Blood for so long! :)
Blaise came over a few days later, cheerful and with mischief in his eye.
"I got new denims for this," he said, dusting off his knees from the Floo. "Do you like them?"
Hermione laughed as Blaise posed in his new jeans, showing off.
"Very nice," she assured him, grinning.
"So what are we doing today?" Blaise asked. His eyes gleamed. "Your invitation was very vague."
"Oh, I thought we'd go out for a bit and just enjoy the winter," Hermione said lightly, "and then I'd ask you for a bit of help with something."
Blaise raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure."
Hermione flushed. "Shall we go?"
"On a grand winter adventure?" His eyes sparkled. "We shall."
Hermione's grand plan had been to take Blaise ice skating and then for hot chocolate at a nearby muggle skating rink. The plan was simple enough on paper, but it became massively more complex when adding a pureblood wizard to the equation.
"We're going to take what?" Blaise's eyes were wide, and his jaw dropped.
"The Tube - the London Underground," she clarified. "The subway system?"
"That's – that's the underground train system?" Blaise asked, wrenching his face up as he tried to remember.
"Yes, exactly," Hermione said, nodding. "It'll be the quickest way to get there."
"Isn't that really dangerous?" Blaise asked skeptically. "We went over the dangers in class - the train could get stuck in a tunnel, someone could push you onto the tracks in front of the train, starving rats could eat you alive…"
Hermione tried not to laugh.
"Rats aren't going to try and eat you, though you might see them," she admitted. "And we're in more danger of sitting in gum or something than any of that."
As she led the way to the nearest subway entrance, she and Blaise chatted about his holiday so far.
"My mother's been… annoying," Blaise said, making a face. "Annoying. We'll go with that."
"Annoying in what way?" Hermione asked, curious.
Blaise groaned.
"She… she has certain expectations for her son that I'm apparently not fully living up to," Blaise said. "It's like…"
"Like what?" Hermione encouraged.
"It's like she expects the entire third-year class to be in love with me, and she's annoyed that they're not!" Blaise burst out, throwing his hands up. "It's like she has some grand mental image of me as some smooth Casanova, charming everyone and making girls swoon wherever I go."
Hermione winced, and she looked at him sideways. It was an odd thing to expect of your fourteen-year-old son, sure, but from what little she knew of Ms. Zabini, it made a terrible sort of sense.
"You flirt with everyone, and I'm sure the majority of the 3rd year girls at least have a crush on you," she offered. "But making someone fall properly in love with you takes more work, I imagine."
"Not for men," Blaise said, rolling his eyes. "My mother looks at a man with coy eyes, flutters her lashes and drops a handkerchief, and the next thing you know, he's madly in love with her after only spending the afternoon in her company."
"That's… that sounds like some kind of enchantment magic," Hermione said, her eyes widening. "Is she part Veela or something?"
Blaise sighed heavily.
"You'd think it'd be something like that, wouldn't you?" he said. "It would make sense. But no – it's all her. I've checked. I wondered if there was Veela blood in the family somewhere, or Siren blood, but no – nothing. It's just her. Men fall in love with her all over the place, even knowing her reputation and history."
Hermione bit her lip.
"Is… having many girls in love with you something you would want?" she asked carefully. "I mean, it sounds like your mother enjoys the attention, but… is that something you would want?"
"No. I like flirting, but I like to keep things light and fun," Blaise admitted. "A bunch of girls in love would look very different than a bunch of guys. Guys, they jostle and try to outdo each other with grand romantic gestures. Girls… girls would be upset and cry and demand to know about each other and why they're not the only one. It'd be an emotional mess."
Hermione laughed. "You're not wrong."
"One girl in love with me would be quite enough, I think," Blaise mused. He glanced at her sideways. "So long as it's the right girl."
"And if it's not?" Hermione teased. "You just keep adding more until you find the right one?"
Blaise's eyes gleamed, and he grinned.
"Something like that, maybe," he said, laughing. "Something like that."
Upon reaching the subway station, Blaise was fascinated by all the things he saw.
"The lights," he marveled. "So these – they run on e-leckt-ri-ci-tee, right?"
"Electricity," Hermione corrected.
"Electricity," Blaise repeated. He looked around, craning his head. "And… they're connected up above?"
Hermione blinked. "Connected to what?"
"To the sun mirrors," Blaise said, looking at a giant illuminated map of the Tube. "The ones that make the electricity."
"…you mean solar panels?" Hermione asked, blinking. "Err… I mean, they might be? Most electricity doesn't come from solar panels."
"Then it comes from the water gates?" Blaise asked. "We learned about those too, as well as the wind spinners."
"Hydroelectric dams?" Hermione guessed. "And windmills?"
"I…" Blaise paused. "I don't think the textbook called them that."
Hermione suppressed a laugh. "I think that's what it meant."
The ticketing machine was another new adventure, as was the turnstile. When they finally got to the platform, Blaise's eyes were wide, astonished.
"This is mad," he breathed. "Muggles built this? And all these tunnels? And they don't collapse?"
"They did," Hermione confirmed. "And they don't."
"This is incredible," he marveled. "Here, purebloods have been thinking muggles live in squalor with rats, but they've been busy building tunnels like rats."
Hermione didn't quite know what to say to that.
There weren't many people using the Tube that day, most people still on their holiday, but there were a fair few. Hermione tried to stifle her amusement as she watched Blaise, who was observing everyone with wide eyes, enraptured.
"The clothes," he said. "The coats. They're so bright."
"Bright colors are kind of a trend right now, I guess," Hermione said, looking over at a group of teenagers a few years older than them, clad in jackets with bold pink, teal, and purple stripes. "Dark colors and neutrals are always in style, though."
"That one has their denims torn," Blaise said in a hushed voice.
"I think that's the style too," Hermione admitted. "They're 'distressed jeans', I think."
"To go about with your clothing torn? On purpose? Muggles are mad…"
When they finally got to the skating park, Blaise was astonished to see the muggle skates for rent at the rink.
"They have blades on these?" he said again, shaking his head. "That's just asking for blood on the ice, really."
"How do wizards skate, then?" Hermione asked, lacing her own up.
"Err – mostly on bones," Blaise admitted. "It's not a commonly done thing much anymore, but you'd take bones from the kitchen and polish them up and tie them to your boots."
Hermione laughed.
"I daresay blades will help provide much more precise control," she said, smiling. "You'll have to tell me if you notice a difference."
Once their skates were on, they hobbled out onto the ice, where Hermione showed Blaise how to move forward with smooth, even strokes. Blaise wobbled dangerously at first, before he finally caught on, managing to mimic her quickly. Hermione's eyes narrowed.
"You're cheating, aren't you?" she accused. "You're using the air to help you maintain your balance."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Blaise said, his tone one of injured innocence, though his eyes sparkled. "Clearly, I'm just an incredibly fast learner."
Hermione rolled her eyes but laughed.
It was fun, skating with Blaise. After they both got the hang of it, there were racing contests, attempts to skate backwards, tries at doing spirals, and generally a lot of laughter and good-natured teasing. With their air elementals giving them an unseen advantage with balance and speed, it was significantly easier to skate, making skating much less stressful than it had been when Hermione had ever tried it before. So when Blaise took her hands, crossing them over into a figure eight as they tried to skate fast enough in a circle to really spin, it was all too easy to let him, her heart light and happy with their day so far...
And after they'd stopped trying, panting, it was all too easy to let her hand linger, still holding his, as they went around the ice together, trying to spin and twirl some more. Trying while they were holding hands, though, with the help of the other, it was almost as if they were dancing on the ice together, and not really skating at all.
Hermione was rudely jolted from her thoughts by tripping over a one of her laces that had come undone, losing her balance and hitting the side of the rink rather hard with her hip as she fought not to fall down. Blaise was at her side in an instant, kneeling down to help retie her laces and asking how she was, and Hermione swallowed hard at that, looking down at him with him kneeling in front of her, helping her without her even having to ask.
Once he stood back up, Hermione declared a rink race, and they both took off, skating as fast as they could across the rink. Blaise was laughing and exclaiming it wasn't fair, that she'd had a head start, but Hermione didn't really care as she raced across the ice - it wasn't really Blaise she was running from.
After a successful race (which she only won because she had cheated, Blaise declared), they tried other tricks Hermione thought she had seen figure skaters do. Hermione managed to skate forward on one leg somewhat, trying to gracefully stretch her other leg into the sky as best she could, while Blaise figured out how to skate into a dramatic lunge, which had him grinning and doing over and over again until he could go into it smoothly each time. Neither of them had much success with jumping, but Hermione hadn't expected they would, and they had a lot of fun trying and teasing the other one when they failed.
Blaise was clearly enjoying himself – his face red from the cold and his eyes sparkling – and Hermione felt warm inside at his happiness, glad she'd been able to give him this experience and at least one good memory from the holiday.
After they had skated for a while, Hermione declared that she was cold and she wanted hot chocolate, which Blaise was more than amenable to.
"It's too bloody cold out," he said with a sigh. "I can't hardly feel my feet or hands, really. If it weren't such a muggle area…"
"But it is," Hermione warned.
Blaise sighed overdramatically. "I know."
Hermione bought them both hot chocolate and a couple warm pastries to snack on. There was a little indoor café-type area set up next to the rink, and she found a table far away from any others for them to sit at. Blaise raised an eyebrow, but he followed her lead, enjoying the hot chocolate in silence with her for a while before Hermione gathered up her nerve.
"I wanted to ask if you'd want to help me," Hermione said finally, "with a project I have."
Blaise looked at her, raising his eyebrows.
"Have I ever said 'no' to such a thing yet, Hermione?" he commented.
Hermione flushed. "Well, no. But this one is a bit more… personal."
Pulling her plans from her pocket, Hermione unfolded a large sheet of paper. She slid her chair around the table so the paper faced the both of them, and Blaise's eyes grew wide.
"Tracey and some of the others were talking about things like this over the summer, when I was running for Youth Rep," Hermione said, gnawing on her lip. "I think it was just part of the fun, though – we never had to actually file paperwork for something like this like we thought we would – but—"
"Hermione." Blaise's voice came out strangled.
"—but if I want to establish Granger as a proper House of its own, these are things I'll need," Hermione rushed on hurriedly. "I know it seems silly, but all the other fancy Houses have these things – crests, mottos, sigils – and if I'm to fit in, I'll need them too. And I can't just use ones that already exist – I have to invent it all from nothing—"
"Hermione," Blaise said again, his voice strangled. "You are asking for my help in setting up your House."
Hermione bit her lip.
"Umm," she said. "Yes."
Blaise stared at her.
"Why?" he asked. "I'm not saying 'no', mind – just… this is incredibly personal, you realize…"
Hermione flushed.
"Well," she said, not looking at him. "For your gift, I tried to think of what you might want. And you keep asking when I'll accept Oaths of Fealty. And I thought – well, I can't properly do that until I have a proper House, with the power to uphold my end of any oaths made. And this seemed like one of the next steps on the way to that…"
Blaise's eyes softened.
"And getting outside help for this doesn't bother you?" he asked, holding her gaze. "This is incredibly personal, you realize. These things will identify your House for generations."
"You know me better than anyone, Blaise," Hermione said honestly. "I don't think there's anyone else I'd ask."
A slow, soft smile spread across Blaise's lips at that, and there was a slight sparkle in his eyes when he met her gaze again.
"Okay," he said simply. "Where do you want to start?"
It was decided that they would start with the Granger House motto. Whatever words chosen would identify her House, Hermione thought, and they could draw symbols from the meaning of the motto for the other necessary things. The difficulty was figuring out what she wanted to identify her House by.
Blaise was helpful in providing several examples. Wizarding House mottos in general seemed to fit into two categories: ones that subtly espoused pureblood supremacy, or ones that were incredibly lame.
"'Hard work conquers all'?" Hermione repeated, shaking her head in despair. "'New vines from strong roots'?" She groaned. "These are such Hufflepuff things to say."
Blaise grinned.
"That's why the purebloods go with more savage things," he said. "Mottos are inherently lame unless there's a threat of violence in them."
"I don't believe in pureblood supremacy, though," Hermione emphasized. "So all the nonsense of family or blood doesn't fit with me. What does?"
"Well, you're very good at plotting and at revenge," Blaise said thoughtfully. "We could go along those lines."
"That'd be very bloodthirsty and not very dignified," Hermione said, making a face. "Unless we found a subtle way to insinuate that insulting me or going against me would be a very bad idea."
"How about absume et reperi?" Blaise suggested.
Hermione blinked. "What's that mean?"
Blaise's eyes glinted. "'Fuck around and find out'."
Hermione laughed despite herself.
"Maybe let's make a list of ideas or concepts," she suggested, "and then see what we can get from it."
They began to make a list of concepts and sayings, including lame ones. Hermione pulled on trite old muggle sayings she'd heard before to add to the list, reassuring herself that it was just for inspiration, while Blaise made suggestions of other ones to add. They ended up with a bit of a list:
• Don't wait for storms to pass; dance in the rain
• Be amazing
• Whatever you do, do it well
• Why not?
• Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it
• Paddle your own canoe
• A true hero isn't measured by the size of their strength, but by the strength of their heart
• Sometimes the right path is not the easiest one
"Add 'stand up for what's right, even if you stand alone'," Blaise suggested, as Hermione wrote. "That fits you pretty well."
Hermione glanced up at him. "Does it?"
"You're always standing up for what you believe in, regardless of what anyone else thinks," Blaise pointed out, blinking. "Don't you?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"I thought I was mostly motivated by selfishness," she commented lightly, and Blaise winced, glancing away.
"Just put it down," he muttered. "Your own system of morals is pretty solid, I'd say, even if it's unusual and different from everyone else's."
Hermione shot him a look but did as he suggested.
This entire process was more difficult than she thought it would be. While Hermione could think of several concepts she strongly identified with herself, this was supposed to be about more than herself.
"It's less about me, and more about a family legacy," Hermione said, gnawing on her lip as she looked down at the list. "What do I want my children to define themselves by? My children's children?"
"What would make you proud?" Blaise asked.
Hermione considered.
She was proud of her own ambition, she thought, and if she had ambitious children, she'd be proud of them, certainly. If her children weren't ambitious, though, Hermione thought she'd probably still be proud of them so long as they were happy and were doing what they wanted to and what they loved.
Was is happiness and self-fulfillment she valued most, then? No, she thought – her own ambitions were fueled more with a desire to change the world than a longing for happiness. Things could be rewarding without being enjoyable or making you happy. So then… was it the fight she valued? Or the journey itself?
Or not the journey, but the drive?
"I think I'd be proud of them for going after what they wanted," Hermione said finally. "Even if it's not some big lofty goal, so long as they still went after what they wanted and weren't afraid to chase their dreams, I'd be proud of them in the end."
"Persistence, then," Blaise said, nodding. "Stubbornness. Perseverance."
"Yes, I think so," Hermione said slowly, reflecting. "Never giving up. Just finding another way to get to your goal."
Blaise smiled slightly. "Then… what about modo deficis, cum temptare destitisti?"
Hermione shot him a look.
"How is you just know Latin?" she said, petulant.
Blaise laughed. "Blame my mother. And growing up partly in Italy."
Hermione huffed. "Well? What's it mean?"
Blaise's eyes were soft. "'You only fail when you stop trying'."
The words resonated with Hermione in a deep, wordless way, and Hermione found herself suddenly getting excited, her eyes lighting up.
"That it," she breathed. "That's it exactly. I don't care what they try for – just that they try, and that they don't give up. I want my descendants to stand for something, to do things – not to just passively accept things happening to them."
Blaise grinned, pleased. "Excellent."
There was a moment of shared happiness and triumph, Hermione and Blaise smiling at each other wordlessly as Hermione wrote it down, though in English – she wasn't sure she was wild on the Latin, and not all Houses' mottos were in Latin, she knew - before Hermione regained her train of thought and moved on to the next item on the agenda.
"Symbols and crest next, then," Hermione said, tapping her mouth with her pen. "What are symbols of persistence and perseverance and stubbornness?"
"A mule? A donkey?" Blaise said with a straight face. "A bull?"
Hermione shot him a look, but she smirked.
"Okaaaay," she said. "Maybe not quite what I'm looking for."
"Let me get us more hot chocolate," Blaise suggested, sliding out of his chair, "and we can keep thinking after."
Hermione grinned. "Sure."
Blaise returned promptly with more hot chocolate, his eyes bright.
"I paid with muggle money," he told her, his tone proud. "Even with the silly paper bills."
Hermione laughed. "Learn how to do that in Muggle Studies, did you?"
"So what if I did?" Blaise grinned. "It paid off, didn't it?"
Hermione settled into her hot chocolate with a warm smile. "So it did."
As they took a break, they found themselves swapping stories from the winter break so far.
"My mother took us to the Greengrass Ball," Blaise said. He rolled his eyes and sighed very dramatically. "They're so stuffy, you realize. And boring. Generally, all the kids go hang out in one of the back rooms until a parent comes to get us and demands to parade us around."
Hermione laughed.
"So it's just a bunch of pureblood kids dressed up all fancy lounging around in a room?" she asked.
"Pretty much," Blaise said, smirking. "Sometimes someone will think ahead and bring Exploding Snap. We mostly just sat and chatted this time, though. Not that there was much gossip, but it was what it was."
"I went to the Diggory Family Christmas party," Hermione found herself admitting. "It was… interesting. Mostly Ministry people were there, but Luna and her father were there too – I think because they're neighbors."
Blaise's eyebrows rose very high.
"Diggory invited you to his family Christmas party?" he said, whistling. "That's—that's significant, Hermione. I don't know if you realize—"
"He sent me this for Christmas, too," Hermione said. She dug in her pocked for a moment, setting the rose necklace on the table. "Along with the invitation."
Blaise froze. "And… you wore it?"
Hermione looked at him steadily. "I did."
Blaise paused, looking at her for a long moment.
"Generally," he said cautiously, "girls are more enthusiastic about accepting a courting offer than you seem to be."
With that, Hermione groaned and thunked her head off of the table.
"I didn't want a bloody courting offer," she grumbled into the wood. She sat up a moment later, rubbing her forehead. "I was happy with how things were going, thank you very much."
"Just going off and snogging?" Blaise grinned. "Fair enough."
"We were dating," Hermione objected. "It wasn't just—"
"I know, I know," Blaise dismissed, his eyes teasing. "Still."
"But it was nice," Hermione said, stressing. "There was no expectation, no pressure. This stupid gift… urghhh…"
Blaise tilted his head.
"You realize that he probably felt his honor and yours demanded it?" he asked. "He indicated initial interest to you what, a year ago?"
Hermione thought back. "Yes. He sent me a rose for Christmas."
"There's only so long a person can go 'seeing' a person without making an offer of courting intent that's decent, you realize," Blaise remarked.
"Wait, really?" Hermione blinked. "Nobody ever told me that..."
"At some point, it looks like they're just stringing someone along," Blaise commented. "Remember over the summer? Malfoy was mad that Diggory hadn't made a genuine offer of courting intent?"
Hermione frowned. "Vaguely…"
"Well, that's because the longer you go seeing a girl without making a courtship offer to her, the less respect it shows," Blaise said, shrugging. "The very snooty pureblood girls don't date at all, realize. They only go for courtship offers. It shows a high status and commands respect."
"That's stupid," Hermione declared. "I'm not devalued as a person because I want to date around without everything immediately looking towards marriage—"
"I don't disagree with you," Blaise said mildly. "I'm just pointing out that at this point, if Cedric didn't make an offer of some sort to you at this point, a full year after indicating initial interest, he'd essentially be telling everyone he's just sleeping with you for fun."
"We're not—!" Hermione's face flamed. "I've never—"
"The our-age equivalent, then," Blaise corrected, grinning. "Snogging you for fun, we'll say. Not taking you seriously as a potential partner."
Hermione huffed and muttered something unflattering under her breath, and Blaise smirked.
"Still," he commented. "I'm surprised you accepted his gift, really."
"I figured if I did and went to his Christmas party, his parents would disapprove of me anyway, and the whole thing would be done with without me having to make a choice," Hermione admitted, not looking at him. "His Dad seemed pretty against me – insinuated I was a Dark witch and slipping Cedric love potions – but his mother couldn't be happier for the both of us."
"Insinuated that you were a Dark witch?" Blaise raised an eyebrow. "On what basis?"
"Just because I'm in Slytherin, I think," Hermione said with a sigh. "You'd think house-prejudice would end after Hogwarts, but no, can't trust the Slytherin…"
Blaise looked reflective.
"Do you want to be courting him?" he asked.
Hermione bit her lip.
"I liked dating him, mostly," she said. "But… I mean, I know courting is only one step up, but already it doesn't quite feel right."
"How so?" Blaise prompted.
Hermione hesitated.
"It's… it's in the small things," she admitted. "Like at Hogsmeade. I mentioned that the main road ran along a ley line, and Cedric was immediately alarmed – telling me how ley lines were used for Dark magic and how they shouldn't be discussed. I mentioned dementors once, and he was staunch in the belief that though they're scary, the Ministry controls them, and they play a 'necessary role'." She groaned, tugging at her sleeves. "And then – I don't even remember how it came up – but he started telling me how I shouldn't practice wandless magic, as if I was an idiot who would go into it and blow my hand up—"
Blaise was nodding, sympathetic.
"And then?" he prompted. "What else?"
"And then," Hermione groaned, tugging at her hair. "Then, at his stupid party, his mother started going on about her own courtship, complete with betrothal contracts and dowries. And when I confronted Cedric about it, he was surprised. He was genuinely surprised I had no interest in being bartered away like chattel."
Blaise looked like he was trying very hard not to snicker or smirk now.
"He was surprised by this?" he asked. "Does he know you at all?"
"That's what I thought!" Hermione said, throwing her hands up. "But apparently not. He didn't even take my House seriously."
"Your House?" Blaise questioned.
"He challenged that I wanted to establish the House of Granger," Hermione said. "He said 'you're a girl, it'll only last until you get married and take your husband's name'—"
Blaise gasped.
"He didn't," he said. His eyes were wide.
"He did," Hermione said viciously. "All my ambition, everything – turns out, he thought I was just trying to be Head Girl. Thought I was just trying to rise above others to get a good position in the Ministry or some such rot after Hogwarts was done."
Blaise was staring at Hermione with wide open eyes and his jaw hanging open, now.
"Does he know anything?" Blaise demanded. "Does he know anything about you that actually matters?"
"I thought he did!" Hermione said, frustrated. "We'd talked about pureblood courtship rituals often enough that I thought he realized… and we practiced 5th year magic together and studied, and he nominated me for Youth Rep, so I thought he realized… that he knew…"
"You thought he knew the depth of your ambition," Blaise summarized. He looked at her sideways. "You said he reacted poorly to the mention of ley lines?"
"He did," Hermione said dully. "His father about had a conniption over me bringing a Yule wreath to the stupid party over a Christmas wreath. God forbid I not instinctively recognize the difference between one silly wreath and another."
Blaise paused.
"Hermione," he said. "What would Diggory do if he found out you had formed a coven?"
Hermione immediately winced, and Blaise's eyes sharpened.
"See, it's that response right there," he said, pointing at her. "It's that response that worries me—"
"I didn't have to tell him when we were just dating!" Hermione protested. "It was light, it was fun, I didn't have to go into anything serious—"
"But now that you are courting, that level of honesty is expected," Blaise said. He folded his arms. "He's not going to react well."
"Do you think I don't know that?" Hermione snapped. "There was a reason I was hoping his father would forbid him from courting me any further! I don't want to be courting him, but I also didn't want to hurt him. If his parents broke us up, it wouldn't be me that was blamed. Then maybe we could still be friends, I thought. I hoped." Hermione let loose a large sigh, her anger dissipating with her breath. "Fat lot of good that did me, really. Now I have to go back to Hogwarts, and I'll have to wear his rose jewelry in front of everybody…"
Blaise looked at her, considering.
"After we get back to Hogwarts," Blaise said. "How long before you think we'll do our next ritual as a coven?"
Hermione blinked, caught off-guard by the change in topic.
"Err," she said. "Imbolc, at the latest. For Jade and Milan, remember? But I was thinking the new moon of January – the eleventh. Harry wants to do a blood debt ritual, and the new moon—"
"Perfect," Blaise cut her off. "Are you going to need ritual ingredients?"
"Not really anything special for this one," Hermione said. "Mostly just blood and candles."
"Who are you okay with knowing you have a coven?" Blaise asked. "And who do you not want to know?"
Hermione paused.
"…I think I'd be okay with any of the Slytherins in our class knowing," she said slowly. "Possibly more of the Slytherins in general. I don't think they'd judge. But I wouldn't want it widely known. It could cause difficulties."
"So only people who respect covens properly, really," he said, nodding. "One other question, then – if you're going to be accepting and bargaining over your own betrothal contracts, are you going to be entering duels for your own honor as well?"
Hermione's mouth fell open.
"Wait, what?" she said. "Why would I need to—"
"Generally, if a girl is disrespected or dishonored in the courting process, her father can duel the offender over the girl's honor," Blaise said. "Sometimes, another suitor duels the offending one instead, in her name."
Hermione shook her head, astonished.
"I'm not dueling anyone over my 'honor' in courtship!" she said, disgusted. "If I'm dueling anyone, it's because I have a valid reason, not because someone offended some antiquated rule that views me as a prize to be won."
Blaise smirked. "Understood."
Hermione felt a growing annoyance. The topic was wearing on her, and she decided she didn't want to talk about it anymore. It was stressful to think about, even though it shouldn't be, and she'd wanted a break from her anxiety to spend a fun day out with Blaise.
"What animal represents persistence?" she asked pointedly, drawing his attention back to her paper. "I refuse to have my family symbol be a bloody mule."
Blaise grinned and laughed. "Fair enough."
They continued brainstorming. Choosing an animal was difficult. Hermione wanted something that symbolized persistence, while also being majestic and cool. Dumbledore had already claimed the phoenix, though, so that was out.
"You could go with a turtle?" Blaise suggested. "They just get older and older, and they never die unless they're killed."
Hermione bit her lip. "I guess. They're just… they're so slow. And they're not really something intimidating, you know?"
Blaise laughed. "You can't have everything, Hermione."
Hermione eventually decided on a fox.
"Foxes are cunning, and they're known for being sly and surviving," Hermione said. "They're also known for helping people who are motivated, but also as tricksters in myth. I think it works."
Blaise tilted his head, considering.
"I can see it," he said, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "It's still a predator, though a sleek one. I think that'll work well for you."
The last part was harder. Hermione, while decent at sketching rough concept ideas or drawing straight lines with a ruler, was decidedly not an artist.
"I don't even know if I want a fox head, or an entire fox, or what," she despaired. "These all keep ending up looking like injured lions or giant rats."
"Don't look at me," Blaise said, holding his hands up. "I can't draw."
"Who can?" Hermione asked. "I don't know anyone who can, I don't think."
Blaise paused.
"There's someone in Gryffindor who can in our year," he said slowly. "The one obsessed with the muggle running game."
Hermione blinked. "Err—I have no idea who that is."
Blaise shrugged. "You could find out. Or…" He paused. "…you could ask Malfoy for help."
"Draco can draw?" Hermione said, astonished. "Since when?"
"Since his mother Narcissa decided she wanted to cultivate fancy talents in her only son," Blaise said dryly. "On top of the normal pureblood lessons – dancing, deportment, that sort of thing – she also tried more classically Renaissance-type lessons as well."
"Like drawing?" Hermione couldn't contain her surprise.
Blaise smirked. "I think the drawing was in preparation for magical painting classes, but Draco never got that far. He didn't like getting his clothes dirty with paint."
Hermione laughed, and Blaise shrugged.
"I know he had calligraphy lessons, and music lessons at some point," he said. "Narcissa had him try just about everything."
"Why?" Hermione couldn't help but ask. "That's a lot, for a child – even a magical one."
Blaise paused.
"I think," he said delicately, "that she was trying her best to help her son develop an identity of his own."
Hermione blinked. "Wait. What?"
"Imagine Malfoy's life," Blaise said, his lips thinning. "He has a father he looks up to immensely, but one who's never there and is focused nearly entirely on rebuilding his family legacy. Getting his attention is difficult, and earning his approval is next to impossible. But he's still taught to look up to him, to want to emulate his father anyway, despite his father's coldness toward him."
Hermione bit her lip. She had strong opinions on Lucius Malfoy.
"Now imagine you're Narcissa," Blaise said. "You see your son desperate to gain his father's approval, but unable to earn his esteem in any way. You see your son modeling himself after your husband even as a child, even though it's clear that's not who he really is at heart." He shrugged. "Introducing new activities and skills to acquire isn't a bad way to try and help your son figure out who he wants to be. It might have even worked, if Malfoy had really enjoyed any of them – imagine if he had decided he wanted to be a wizarding painter."
"He'd never shut up about it," Hermione mused, drumming her fingers on her lips. "He'd constantly be trying to learn new charms to enhance paintings moving, and he'd be constantly painting people to practice and bragging about who all he'd painted so far."
"You're not wrong," Blaise snickered. "But think – he'd have an identity of his own, instead of staying in his father's shadow."
"And instead, he's still just a pureblood princeling, swanning around like he's better than the others," Hermione mused. She sighed. "It seems rather tragic, when you put it like that."
Blaise shrugged, uneasy. "I mean. He's fine, you know. We've been friends for years, before Hogwarts. He has a good life."
There was a silence. Hermione wondered what that would feel like – not having the support of her parents behind her, not being able to turn to them for help or advice, not being able to trust that they would be there for her. It was hard to imagine – her family had always been such an important part of her life – but she imagined she'd have turned out more standoffish and colder than she was now, just from the lack of affection.
She wondered about Blaise, for a moment. He'd only had one true parent growing up, hadn't he? Or had someone in his parade of temporary stepfathers managed to provide a strong male role model to him?
In the end, she shrugged and dismissed it, uncomfortable. It felt odd to speculate about her friends' family lives – somehow invasive, even if all she was doing was wondering.
"I'll find the boy in Gryffindor," Hermione decided. "I'd rather to be able to only show the Slytherins after it's already done and I've filed it all with the Ministry and everything. Present it as a fait accompli, instead of a work in progress."
"Show the Slytherins?" Blaise raised an amused eyebrow. "But you've already shown me. What am I, pray tell, if not a Slytherin?"
"Shut up," Hermione said, her face turning red as she folded her paper back up. "You're special and you know it."
"I'm special?" Blaise looked startled for a moment, before a slow smirk spread across his face, his eyes glinting. "I'm special," he declared. "I'll take it."
"You do that," Hermione muttered, her cheeks burning. "Come on."
Her face stayed flushed as they went to return their skates, Blaise's sly smile never leaving his face all the while.
