He ran as fast as his short legs could carry him, crying, into his nurse’s arms. She scooped him up and shut the door behind them.

“There, there,� she soothed, smoothing his hair, “I’ll make sure no one hurts you.� She kept holding him but muttered ironically under her breath, “The only good thing about what your mum does is that you know you won’t have to put up with those fellows for very long. I swear, my lad, if it wasn’t for you I would be out of here.�

“Don’t leave me, Nurse,� the boy sniffed into her shoulder.

“Aah, would I do that to a wee lad like you, now? What would you do with yourself if I left? I don’t want to go, never worry,� the stout, grizzle-haired woman reassured him.

There was a quiet sound at the door and the two looked up. Mrs. Fairbanks stood there, dressed in a fitted black evening gown with a teardrop diamond glistening at the base of her throat. She held out her arms to her little son.

“Come here, my boy. Who loves you?�

“Mummy loves me,� he mumbled as though it were a lesson learned by route. He wanted to stay with his nurse, whose lips were pinched together as they always were when his mother came into the nursery. It made her face even less pleasant than normal, but to the little boy she still represented comfort and security, even though his mother was the beautiful one, with her olive-dark skin and lustrous black hair.

She was beckoning him forward, and he wanted her to be happy with him, so he gave her the hug she expected.

“That’s my boy,� she whispered. She smelled like flowers and cigarette smoke, since her new husband, Mr. Fairbanks, was addicted to his pipe. The smell had wafted through the entire mansion and now, not long after the wedding, the smell was permanently entrenched in every particle of air, every fiber of cloth, every cranny and nook. Nurse had banned him from pinching his nose when he walked past the man, but Mr. Fairbanks seemed to despise him on principle.

“Mummy,� he whined, “why isn’t Mr. Fairbanks nice to me?�

“You don’t have to love him, darling,� she said. “I’ve spoken to him just now about trying to kick you like that, and he won’t do it again, don’t worry. Remember, mum is-“

“Mum is what matters,� he finished miserably. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “A mum is always here for her baby, and I’ll always be here for you, no matter who I get married to, you hear me? You are my precious baby.�

The little boy gave her another hug, this time on his own initiative, his chubby arms flung around her knees, which was the highest he could reach. She had never called him precious before, and he was filled with a sudden longing to make her proud of him, so maybe she would smile at him again and say he was her good boy.

His nurse gave a discreet little cough. “I’m afraid it’s nearly bedtime. If you will excuse us, Mrs. Fairbanks?�

She gave a cursory look at the nurse and nodded. “He needs his sleep. I’ll be off, then.� She glided out of the nursery, her high heels barely making a sound on the plush carpeting, and she called out into the hallway as she shut the door, “Aloysius? Where are you?�

Mr. Fairbanks’ voice echoed distantly from another wing of the house, and his wife hurried away from the little boy who was being tucked in for the night.

* * *

His feet pounded through the marble hallways. He rounded a corner and stopped short, panting, and glared at the woman sitting so serenely at the desk.

“Mum, what do you think you’re doing?� he accused.

“But darling!� Her mouth was slightly open in surprise. “You’re ten years old! You can take care of yourself perfectly well, and you need tutoring to prepare if you want to do well next year in Hogwarts.�

“But why does Nurse have to leave? She can stay.�

“Darling, you know it’s repulsive when you stick out your lower lip like that. Do try to behave.�

He corrected the offending expression. “Mum, why did you tell her to leave?�

“I thought I made that quite clear. You’re old enough not to need her care. And if you’re getting a proper tutor anyway, why spend the money on someone to care for you when you’re perfectly able to do without. Remember, Mum is what matters, not some silly nurse. All you need is the tutor, and that’s my final word.�

His mother was Mrs. Heppleworth now, and she used a few more charms than she used to in order to keep her appearance perfect, but she still wore that same expression he knew all too well from when he’d begged her for a trip to Diagon Alley with his nurse, or when he’d wanted to move into a smaller, cozier room in her last husband’s mansion. When her eyes narrowed, her delicate mouth hardened, and her fingers intertwined with each other, he knew there was no hope she’d ever change her mind. He sighed and trudged out of the room, back to his Nurse.

“I tried,� he said miserably. “Can’t you stay anyway?�

“I expected as much. And no, lad, I can’t stay without your mother’s permission, and besides, where would I get food to eat? No, don’t say you’d bring it to me. That’s no way to live, and I won’t have you stealing from…whatever this one’s name is, Heppleworth, right.� He knew Nurse remembered the name but she scorned the fact that this was his mother’s fifth marriage.

“Besides, laddie,� she continued after a moment’s thought, “It’s not like you won’t get along without me. The house elves do the cooking and laundry here, anyhow, and you can take care of yourself.�

“Maybe, but I’ll miss you too much.�

The old nurse tried to suppress a sniff, but gave it up as a lost cause and wiped her eyes with a voluminous starched white handkerchief.

“I’ll miss you too, lad, but you have to go to Hogwarts next year anyway. Do well there, and make me proud.�

“I will,� he promised, and she beamed at him with watery eyes.

“Oh, lad. You are going to have hard times ahead. I wish I could help you, but partings are a part of life, and we must move on. I’ve got a grandson in America, and he’s invited me to live with him. I’ll write to you now and then if I can find the time.�

He helped her carry her bags down the grand staircase to the fireplace that stood next to the door. She tossed a pinch of green powder on the flames and, holding tight to her suitcases, shouted, “Diagon Alley!� She didn’t take her eyes off his until she had disappeared in the swirling flames.

He waved until she was gone, and then his brave face melted down and he fled to his room. He didn’t weep, since his mother had told him often that he shouldn’t cry since he was a big boy, and he was afraid she’d hear him, but he pounded his pillow until it burst and a cloud of feathers coated the room in white.

He had never felt any emotion so strongly as this, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was. Anger? Betrayal? Loss? Mostly he just felt alone, but at the same time, he was furious at his mother. She had decided to send Nurse away- Nurse would never have left him otherwise. He began thinking vengeful thoughts, taking his mind away from his pain.

A few minutes’ thought produced some good ideas. He couldn’t cast spells yet, but he knew where she kept her beauty potions, and he could say embarrassing things in front of the dinner guests…he no longer cared about what she would say to him after. Nurse was gone, and despite his mum, Mr. Heppleworth, the house elves, and the many frequent visitors to the mansion, he was alone now.

* * *

He gasped, looking up at the huge castle. He had never known, never dreamed, how beautiful it would be. His boat drifted through a curtain of vines on the other side of the lake and jerked gently to a stop at a pebbly beach underneath the castle. He stepped gracefully out of the boat. A stern old woman greeted them and led them in. He watched a blond boy he’d seen on the train argue with a black-haired boy, and he heard two girls whispering next to him that the black-haired boy was Harry Potter. He’d heard of Potter, everyone had, and he leaned forward curiously to get a look at him. The old woman spotted them and interrupted Potter’s argument before he had gotten any closer, though.

Before he knew it he was standing in line in a big room with an enchanted sky instead of a ceiling. Mr. Heppleworth had a small window that showed fake scenery and weather, but this was somehow much more beautiful. The old witch carried a hat out, and he listened to its song, wondering which house he’d be put in. With his name, he knew he’d have a while to wait. Finally, he heard it.

“Zabini, Blaise!�

He stepped up to the stool and donned the hat, and sat, trembling, when he heard a voice in his ear.

“Last one of the year, eh?�

Blaise jumped, and relaxed as he realized that it was the hat.

“Yes, it’s me. Who else? Let me see, now, where will you go? You don’t work too well with others, and prefer to be the lone wolf. And this is interesting, you respond to events that don’t go your way by seeking revenge, eh? You solve problems by using your natural cunning, and- goodness! This is the second time I’m seeing this- normally it would mean only one thing, but earlier tonight it didn’t…Never mind, let’s not waste time, I see you’re going to be in- SLYTHERIN!�

Blaise put down the hat shakily and trotted to the green table. He tried to sit next to the blond boy he’d seen earlier, not knowing what else to do. He had almost never met another boy his own age. He was surprised when the boy gave him a hard shove, almost knocking him off the bench.

“What was that for?� he protested.

“Who are you?� the boy sneered, making Blaise defensive.

“I’m Blaise Zabini- who are you?�

“Draco Malfoy,� the blond boy said, turning away from Blaise as though losing interest in him. Blaise looked at Malfoy, who was now talking to a huge boy sitting in the seat opposite the one Blaise had tried to take. He decided to give up and sit somewhere else.

He sat near a bunch of older students who seemed to take no interest in him, so Blaise settled down and looked around the room. The headmaster got up to speak, and Blaise was puzzled by his strange remarks. Was this man a little crazy? He couldn’t be, Blaise decided, if he was the headmaster.

The arrival of the food distracted him, and he chose a few sausages and began nibbling on them. He wasn’t very hungry, since he was still nervous about what Hogwarts would be like. By the time desert came out, though, he managed to find a bit more appetite for some pumpkin pie with globs of whipped cream.

After the feast ended, Blaise followed the other Slytherins back to the common room, yawning profusely. He was slightly dismayed to learn that he was sharing a room with Draco Malfoy, but he picked a bed nearest the window and farthest from Draco. There were two boys built with mammoth proportions that seemed to always be lurking behind Malfoy, and a weedy boy whose name Blaise hadn’t learned yet took the bed next to him.

Blaise ignored the others for now and organized his trunk, which had been placed near the door. Listening to the noise the others made moving around the room, Blaise drifted off to sleep.

It was a week before the final exams, and Blaise was studying his Transfiguration notes while lying sprawled on his bed. Draco swaggered into the room with the weedy boy, who Blaise had learned was called Theodore Nott. Blaise rarely spoke to Theodore, but at least he didn’t fight with him all the time like Draco did. Blaise was annoyed to see Draco and Theodore were in the middle of another one of their arguments, and Blaise found himself forced to listen because of their volume. He stuffed his fingers in his ears and tried to keep studying, but he could still hear them so he gave it up.

“So, that means you’re a coward,� Theodore was saying.

“I am not!� Draco insisted. “I don’t have to be a stupid Gryffindor to be brave. All purebloods are brave, I’m just more cunning and I don’t stand for having any Mudblood in my house like the Gryffindor idiots do.�

“Right,� Theodore snickered, making it clear he thought Draco was making excuses. “So, prove it then, coward.� Theodore smirked at him, imitating Draco’s own trademark sneer. “I’ll bet you two sickles you won’t dare. And I never waste money on bets unless I think I’ll win.�

Draco spluttered in indignation. “Of course I’ll do it! But- but you have to come too.�

“Sure, I’ll come, to make sure you don’t back up on the deal and cheat.�

Blaise decided to break his silence, though he rarely bothered. Draco either bullied him or ignored him, and Theodore…they simply didn’t click, and spoke to each other usually when asking to borrow some parchment or a quill. Now, though, he was bored with studying and vaguely curious.

“What are you two doing?� he asked.

Draco jumped around to look at Blaise, not having realized Blaise was in the room. Theodore was unperturbed and spared him a quick glance. “Oh, Draco wouldn’t tell what happened the night he was in the Forbidden Forest on detention, and I accused him of being a coward in there and he just doesn’t want to admit it. Then I dared him to go in- I’m betting him he’s still too afraid.�

“I am not afraid. You’ve got to be kidding. What’s a few werewolves, honestly?� Draco said in a tone of forced toughness.

Theodore laughed scornfully, and Draco tried to hide his annoyance.

“Blaise, you come too. You can watch Theodore and make sure he doesn’t plan any tricks on me.� Draco looked at him commandingly.

Blaise wanted to refuse, but he’d had too much experience with Draco. If anyone refused Draco’s “requests�, he’d send Crabbe and Goyle out to do their worst. And even their best wasn’t the kind of thing Madam Pomfrey appreciated. Resigning himself, Blaise simply nodded silently. “When are you going?� he asked.

Theodore looked at Draco. “Tonight?�

“Any time whatsoever is fine with me,� Draco said nonchalantly. “It’s no big deal at all. I don’t even need any Sickles, but a pureblood never refuses a bet.�

* * *

That night, the three boys met in the common room, Blaise in a warm cloak and internally scornful of the stupid bet and Draco’s need to prove himself, though his face was impassive. He’d learned to stay blank over the past year when faced with professors and students who didn’t understand his direct way of responding to situations, and often misinterpreted his expressions as insulting. He had found it easier not to respond, after a while.

They made their way down through Hogwarts and out a set of side doors doors, Theodore unlocking them with his wand. He’d always been excellent at Charms, Blaise knew, though Blaise did better than him in most subjects.

They tiptoed out onto the grounds without being caught. Blaise supposed it was pure dumb luck. The Forest loomed black and Blaise could hear faint whistling and rustlings as they walked into the first clusters of trees and bushes. When Blaise could only see the castle by turning his head around and peering hard through gaps in the trees, Theodore cleared his throat loudly.

“We’re going in and staying in for a full hour, out of sight of the castle, or else I win the bet,� he declared.

Draco nodded. “Perfect,� he said, still trying to look like all this was beneath him. Theodore grinned predatorily at him.
“I’m already planning how to spend my Sickles. Have fun.�

Draco furiously opened his mouth to reply but then closed it again.

“How much farther in?� he asked.

Theodore resumed walking, and the other two followed.
“Blaise and I will sit where you can’t see us. I’ll use my Omnioculars to keep an eye on you. You can get up and pace a bit if you like, but don’t walk around more than a few feet,� he added over his shoulder.

“Yes, and Zabini, you keep an eye on him. He has to stay in the forest too,� Draco said. “If you were planning on leaving, Theodore, forget about it.�

Theodore stopped walking. “Here is far enough,� he said, pointing to a small gap in the trees. “Enjoy yourself. The hour starts-“ he glanced at his watch- “Now. Go!�

He scurried out of the clearing, Blaise hurrying after him.

As they went, Blaise asked, “Would you really have left the Forest?�

“Well, maybe. Probably, actually,� Theodore admitted. “Draco knows me pretty well. Most pureblood children do. All the social events- there’s nothing else to do. We played as children, and fought, and all of that, and I know him better than most people, I imagine.�

“I didn’t know that you two knew each other that well,� Blaise said, interested.

“You’re pureblood too, aren’t you?� Theodore asked, suddenly suspicious.

“Of course,� Blaise said dryly, slightly affronted at the question. “Do I look like Mudblood scum to you?�

“I suppose not,� Theodore said begrudgingly. “Here- this tree looks all right. Let’s climb it and take a look at Draco.�

Clambering up the branches, Theodore added, “Of course, you never did go to any of the parties or anything.� He waited.

“Well,� Blaise stammered without his usual smoothness, “I- I suppose my mother didn’t go. Or if she did, she never brought me with her. You know- you’ve probably heard all about her.�

That was one of the things that had been hard for him to get used to at Hogwarts- people knowing all about his mother. He’d known she was beautiful, but not how famous she was. Listening to the rumors about her old husbands’ fates both surprised and hurt him. He had been very young, of course, and he hadn’t really understood everything going on in his home. At the same time, things he remembered nurse saying, or the way his mother’s jewelry had gotten more and more expensive over the years- things simply fit together like the pieces of a jigsaw inside his head, though the picture they suggested seemed horrifying, terrible, impossible. He refused to believe it, and knew he would never work up the courage to ask his unapproachable mother about any of it.

Even his nurse, who had sent him a postcard or two every couple of months- he could never ask her that. He didn’t want to know. He would rather believe it was all silly rumors, nasty gossips’ fabrications. Perhaps, he had decided, perhaps that really was the truth.

Theodore had turned his attention to the Omnioculars.

“He’s pale, that little coward,� he gloated. “And he’s looking around all nervously. I bet he’s terrified. I might just help him get a little closer to the edge…�

He pulled out his wand. “Want to stop me, Zabini?� he said challengingly.

“What exactly are you planning on doing?� Blaise asked.

“Nothing, really, just a little spell I know to scare him. It won’t hurt him. It’ll just blow cold air so the trees around him shake and he feels a chill.� Theodore aimed his wand and said, “Ariafreda!� A gust of cold wind blew out of his wand and rattled through the trees. Theodore peered through the Omnioculars and laughed aloud.

“Ooh, he’s shivering and looking in every direction like he thinks an ickle ghostie is coming to get him! Idiot.�

Blaise heard a strange sound in the tree behind him and jumped.

“What was that?� he said carefully.

“Just me,� a quiet voice said. Blaise stared at the tree but couldn’t see anyone.

“Where are you?� he asked, puzzled.

“Right here!� the voice answered. Blaise looked carefully at the tree again, but all he saw was a couple of ants and a small garden snake. Bugs and reptiles had never bothered him, but now he was getting worried that he couldn’t figure out who was talking.

“Blaise!� Theodore grabbed his arm and shook it, and Blaise jerked his attention back to him.

“I thought you were having a fit or something, you were hissing and spitting like mad!� Theodore said uncomfortably.

“What?� Blaise said blankly. “I wasn’t. I was just trying to figure out who was talking over there.�

It was Theodore’s turn to look completely confused. “What? Who?�

“I don’t know. Maybe we were both imagining things,� Blaise offered.

Just then, Theodore was distracted by something he saw in his Omnioculars.

“Oh, no,� he breathed.

“What is it?� Blaise asked.

“There’s something coming up behind Draco. I don’t know what it is, but it’s big and…I don’t know what it is, but we’d better get closer in case he needs backup. We’ll be in huge trouble if he gets hurt.�

They climbed down the tree in a hurry. Blaise got a few scrapes on the way down, and he pulled out his wand as soon as they reached the ground. He saw the little garden snake slithering down the tree after them.

They ran to the edge of Draco’s clearing, and peering through the foliage, were relieved to see the huge creature was standing still, though it seemed to be watching Draco. Blaise had no idea what it was, since it was hiding in the shadows, though it looked furry and its eyes caught the light with a weird yellow glare.

Theodore motioned to Blaise to stay quiet and watch. They stood frozen in the shrubbery for a few tense minutes, and then suddenly the beast sprang. With a shout, Theodore and Blaise ran into the clearing, each firing a curse at the creature- Blaise tried a Leg-Locker, the only one he could think of at short notice- but it didn’t seem to have much of an effect, and then they were under attack by a whirling heap of dark, shaggy fur and fiery wild eyes and sharp claws. Theodore managed to grab Draco and shout for them to run.

Blaise ran as fast as he could toward Hogwarts, the heavy thuds of the beast’s footsteps and the rancid-meat smell of its breath close behind. He made it almost to the edge of the forest, but then tripped on a branch and went flying. Luckily, he landed just outside the periphery of the forest, where the beast didn’t seem to want to go, but he still scrambled as fast as he could on his knees until he was in the middle of the grassy Hogwarts grounds.

The voice spoke again. “I’m glad you escaped. That nasty creature is pretty unpleasant to humans. You are a human, aren’t you?�

Blaise looked around him, but again there was no one there.
“Where are you?� he said angrily. “Tell me!�

“Right here, of course. Look down!�

Blaise obediently looked down at the grass next to him and saw a small garden snake.

“No- that isn’t- that can’t be the same snake I saw before in the Forest,� he said, confused. It looked exactly the same. Maybe there were lots of snakes that looked like that. A snake couldn’t possibly be following him…

“Of course I am!� the voice said, and Blaise suddenly got it.

“You’re not…you’re the snake?� he said incredulously.

“Got it. Great work. My mother always told me humans were logical beings.�

“Have you ever spoken to a human before?� Blaise asked, still a little bemused at taking to a snake.

“Nope. I think most of them can’t understand us. Any idea why you can?� the snake said.

“No, sorry. This is the first time I ever spoke to a snake.�

“Oh, well, I was curious, so I followed you to here. But since you don’t know, if you’ll excuse me…� the snake trailed off.

“You want to leave? Where are you going?� Blaise suddenly felt he wanted to keep talking to the snake longer.

“I’m hungry. You can’t catch mice if you sit around talking, after all.� The snake thrashed its tail and turned around, eager to return to its usual business.

“Oh,� Blaise said, “I suppose that’s true. Good luck with your, er, hunting, then.�

“Thanks,� the snake said, and slithered off into the grass and out of sight.

It was not until Blaise’s second year, when the news that Harry Potter was a Parselmouth began to spread throughout the school, that Blaise went to the library and found out how rare it was to have that gift. Luckily, Theodore seemed to have forgotten all about it, since he had never known what really happened. Blaise wondered how he had gotten such a strange inheritance, and guessed his pureblood heritage must have some unusual talents in it. Perhaps he was related to Herpo the Foul, or Salazar Slytherin, or any of the other famous wizards in the past who’d had that talent.

That summer, though, he’d asked his mother if he was related to any famous dark wizards or Parselmouths, but she had looked at him blankly and dismissively shooed him away, uninterested in his question. A few weeks after he’d asked her, the whole house was turned upside down when Mr. Heppleworth came down with a terrible cold, which he had ignored for too long. It turned into double pneumonia, leaving him susceptible to a potent strain of dragon pox going around that year. Mr. Heppleworth died shortly after Blaise returned to Hogwarts.

Not missing his mother’s ex-fifth husband all that much, Blaise went about his third year much the same as his first two, despite the slightly harder class work. This year, though, and the next few years after, he’d often sneak out into the forest and talk to different snakes. He never went too far in, though, and always kept a close eye on his surroundings to watch for murderous beasts.

Although he didn’t particularly get close to any specific snakes, the conversations he had with any who happened to slither by often were the best he’d have out of all his acquaintances. He learned which types of mice were the best, what times of day were the best to hunt, which snakes were eaten by owls or other predators (mainly the unlucky ones) and other highly educational tidbits, although few were likely to become practical in his own life.

Snakes weren’t very interested in prolonged conversations with a human, though they would talk for a short while. Still, the time he spent in the Forest was his favorite part of all the time he spent at Hogwarts.

Things changed a lot in the winter of Blaise’s fifth year. Draco started to fancy Pansy Parkinson, but he was nervous about actually talking to her. Blaise got tired of hearing him bemoaning his great love for her, and how she was ignoring him completely. He was convinced she’d reject him if he asked her to Hogsmeade. Blaise watched her narrowly for a few days, and being much more objective than Draco, was nearly positive that she might like him, or at least not make fun of him to his face. Draco wouldn’t even listen to him, though, but kept on complaining and worrying.

Finally, Blaise got so aggravated by Draco that he decided to put an end to his whining. One night in the common room, Blaise purposely sat near Pansy and her little group of friends as they studied for the upcoming OWLs. He listened to them talking, and soon interrupted on the conversation, agreeing with Millicent Bulstrode about Snape’s latest essay being very hard. Their conversation stopped dead as all the girls stared at him blankly.

Blaise was well known for never speaking to anyone if he could avoid it- certainly not joining a conversation out of his own free will. It was like Draco asking a Mudblood to help him with his homework- it simply wasn’t something that could happen. Pansy was the first to recover from the surprise.

“Zabini,� she said, starting to giggle, “what do you think you’re doing?�

“I want to talk to you for a minute,� Blaise said, scowling.

“How are you doing, Blaise?� Daphne Greengrass asked breathlessly. Blaise looked at her strangely, but said politely, “Fine, thank you.�

Pansy’s elbow nudged Daphne’s shoulder, and all the girls burst into fits of giggles, except Millicent Bulstrode, who was not the giggly sort. Blaise internally rolled his eyes.

Bracing himself to carry out his purpose, he said bluntly, “Pansy, what do you think of Draco Malfoy?�

Pansy doubled over in giggles. Blaise waited impatiently. It annoyed him, the way Daphne Greengrass was staring at him like she would never stop, and he stared back at her, hoping she would look away. It didn’t work, so he looked back at Pansy, who was recovering.

“Well, to tell you the truth, Zabini- and you’d better not tell him I said this, or else- but I do think he is, er,� Pansy hesitated, trying to sound like she was being shy and delicate. Blaise knew she wasn’t, though. He’d heard her strident voice in the common room over the years, and what she would say- she was delicate and shy like…like Snape was an adorable, fluffy kitten.

Tracey Davis, a blonde, blue-eyed girl famous for her malicious sense of humor, interrupted Pansy’s hesitation.
“She thinks he’s cute, actually. She tells us that all the time.� Smirking, Tracey leaned back in her seat.

Daphne giggled again. “She’s crazy about him. Anything else you want to know?�

“Thanks, no.� Blaise got up from his seat, ignoring them completely now, and went back to his dormitory to study until Draco came.

Blaise was deeply immersed in his Transfiguration notes when Draco entered, shutting the door behind him. The slamming noise made Blaise look up.

“Oh, Draco,� he said.

“What do you want, Zabini?� Draco asked brusquely.

“I was just speaking with Pansy.� Blaise was satisfied to see Draco’s head jerk up and his eyes focus intently. “You fancy her, don’t you?�

“Of course, you know that, if you ever listen to me,� Draco said. “But she doesn’t even-“

“Yes, yes, I know,� Blaise said hurriedly. Next thing he’d be hearing a pitiful attempt at poetry about unrequited love again, just like he had been forced to listen to last night. Draco really shouldn’t eat that much sausage at dinner. He hurried to the point instead.

“Draco, that isn’t what she said.�

“What?� Draco said, not comprehending.

“She fancies you, Draco.�

“What?�

Blaise rolled his eyes.

“She- is- crazy- about- you,� he enunciated slowly, “and that is a direct quote from Daphne Greengrass. She apparently talks about you all the time.�

Draco looked more surprised than Blaise had ever seen him. He almost laughed at Draco’s expression, but decided it wouldn’t be wise.

“Personally, Draco, I don’t see why you don’t ask her out already. There’s a Hogsmeade weekend in two weeks.�

Draco snapped his mouth shut and said breathlessly, “You’re sure, Blaise?�

“I’m absolutely beyond positive. Unless I have hitherto-undiagnosed hearing problems, I know what I heard,� Blaise said wryly.

Draco looked at him for a moment, then turned around and hurried out of the room. Blaise returned to his studying with a sense of relief.

Two weeks later, Blaise watched Draco and Pansy walk together back down the road toward Hogwarts, talking and smiling at each other. Draco returned to the dorm room in a state of elation, and Blaise was treated to a detailed account of everything Pansy had said and done over the past few hours.

From that point on, Draco would ask for favors from Blaise without threatening him with Crabbe and Goyle, and even do a favor in return if Blaise asked just right. Sometimes they would study together, or share notes, and Draco would have actual conversations with Blaise, telling him not everything, but some things about his grades and his hatred for Potter and Dumbledore. Theodore began talking to Blaise too, and they had some rousing discussions about Mudbloods, Dark magic, girls, and homework. Blaise still spoke to the snakes, but now he had more human contact, if not exactly a best friend.

* * *

When Snape called Blaise to his office for the required meeting about career planning, it was the first time Blaise had ever had a meeting in his office.

“So,� Snape said, his dark eyes staring at Blaise, sizing him up. “Do you have any career plans?�

“I don’t know, sir,� Blaise said, his face carefully blank as it always was when he spoke with a teacher.

“Completely clueless, are you?� Snape said, his voice dry but still managing to sound like he was sneering.

“Pretty much, sir,� Blaise said calmly.

“You haven’t thought about it at all?� Snape stared at him as though he was rather crazy.

“Not especially. Do you have any suggestions for me?� Blaise asked. It turned out to be the right thing to say.

Snape picked up a file of papers on his desk and riffled through it.

“Your grades aren’t too bad…let me see. Yes, you’re about equal in most of your subjects. It would help if you had a preference, since most options are open for you if you keep up the same quality of work. I see your potions, of course, and I’ve seen you have some initiative in brewing them, not just sticking to the rules like most students. Would you like a career in Potions?�

“What kind of job can you get in Potions?� Blaise asked. Implicit in his words was the question; is there a job in Potions that would be classy enough to suit my mother and other purebloods? He knew full well his mother would never let him accept a job considered menial.

Snape seemed to understand. “There are excellent opportunities available, as a matter of fact. Potions is a rapidly growing market these days. Not just teaching the subject, like me, but jobs in developing new potions or improving old ones. There are apprenticeship programs that might take you, in companies that sell potions. They are rather exclusive programs, usually.�

“You think I could do that?� Blaise asked.

“Think about it, and you tell me. Sitting in a lab with other potion-makers, mixing different ingredients and testing the results- does it appeal to you?� Snape stared at him intently, waiting for an answer.

Blaise didn’t give one right away. He thought hard, imagining what it would be like to do that all day. He wouldn’t have to talk to other people all the time, though he would have to here and there, but that didn’t bother him. The idea of experimenting with potion ingredients did rather appeal to him, and it wasn’t like he could think of anything else he’d rather do.

“All right,� Blaise said slowly. “I think I’d like it.�

“Excellent,� Snape said, looking more cheerful than usual. “Just keep up your grades, and take Potions, Herbology, Arithmancy and Charms on the NEWT level. You may take more that that, though, if you wish; it would be advisable. Any questions?�

“Not really,� Blaise said.

“Good luck, then,� Snape said, and Blaise got up to leave. “Blaise?� Snape added.

Blaise looked at him questioningly, wondering what else he could possibly have to say.

“I see you’ve been making more friends recently. It must be hard for you these days, with the death of your stepfather, Mr. Dempster, earlier this year.� Snape looked at him in a way that made Blaise nervous. He didn’t pay much attention to his mother’s doings these days. He had barely met the unpleasant, slimy-looking millionaire she’d married in the beginning of his fourth year, and had only taken one day off school to attend the man’s funeral a year later. It hadn’t made the news much this time, so few students had teased him about it, luckily enough. Why was Snape bringing it up?

Snape didn’t seem to be inclined to explain himself. He said in response to Blaise’s strange look, “Be careful, that’s all I want to say. Use judgment when others make you an offer, whatever it may be for. Think twice before getting into anything.�

“Do you say this to everyone at their career meetings?� Blaise asked, somewhat humorously. Snape’s dark eyes flashed dangerously.

“No. I don’t. You don’t have to take me seriously if you don’t want to.�

“I’ll remember it,� Blaise shrugged, having no idea what Snape was up to.

“You may go, then,� Snape said in a careless tone, turning back to the papers on his desk. Blaise didn’t linger.

Chapter Four- Husband Seven and a Curious Train Ride

“I do.�

“I do.�

Mrs. Paxton, mother of Blaise Zabini, was resplendent in her white wedding gown, frills of carefully arranged lace and ribbon over smooth ivory satin. Her smile had the same quality of carven, smooth tranquil perfection as a museum statue. Blaise tried to suppress a yawn as the Ministry official performing the wedding blathered on about love and happiness, using every hackneyed expression under the sun. Mr. Paxton, at least, was decent to Blaise, or he had been polite at least, during the handful of times they’d met.

Blaise wished his mother had waited longer before remarrying- Mr. Dempster had died in October, and it was only August now. Still, Mr. Paxton didn’t seem to mind. He was a pale, washed-out looking man who surprised Blaise with the obvious depth of feeling he had for his wife.

Blaise hoped strongly that his mother really loved her seventh husband and that the marriage would last for many years, with no accidents or sudden illnesses. He had had enough of coming home to a different mansion every other year. He was tired of the taunts and funny looks, and he wanted his sixth year at Hogwarts to be better than the last five. It was nice to actually get mail in the summer- both Theodore and Draco had written at least twice so far, and he had written to them. He’d also gotten a letter from Daphne Greengrass, on vulgar flowered stationary, which he hadn’t bothered replying to.

Blaise made his way into the banquet hall and placed the order at his plate for roast beef and potatoes. He sipped his pumpkin juice and tried to pretend he was at any old party, not his mother’s seventh wedding. A few guests wandered by and congratulated him in voices making an effort to be cheery. Blaise responded coolly but politely, for his mother’s sake. He couldn’t wait for it all to be over.

* * *

Blaise walked through the barrier and emerged on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters into a muddle of families and luggage and tearful goodbyes. His mother hadn’t seen him off at the platform since his second year, and he told himself he was glad she wasn’t embarrassingly effusive, like some of the women he saw around here.

He spotted Crabbe and Goyle shoving Draco’s distinctive trunk onto the train- it had the Malfoy family coat of arms next to the Slytherin crest. Blaise lifted his own trunk too- he had grown much stronger over the last year- and jumped aboard the train to find Draco or Theodore. He joined both of them in a compartment where Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle also sat. All of them greeted him briefly and continued talking about their summers.

"I heard your mother got remarried this summer, Blaise," Pansy sneered.

"That's right," he said, keeping his expression blank. Pansy glanced uncertainly at Draco, who didn't seem inclined to join in her teasing, and she moved on instead to asking Theodore if he fancied a Hufflepuff girl who he had apparently mentioned.

There was a noise in the corridor, and Blaise looked up to see the red-headed Ron Weasley, his shiny prefect badge prominent on his robes, making a face at the Slytherins in the compartment. Draco was the first to act, making a rude hand gesture at the door. Goyle stood up, cracking his knuckles and stretching, and Weasley quickly disappeared from view. The Slytherins burst out laughing, even Blaise joining in.

"Rotten cowardly scum, for a Gryffindor," Theodore laughed.

Blaise added, "Nice move, Goyle."

"His rat bit your finger once, didn't it?" Draco asked, and Goyle nodded, scowling menacingly.

Blaise got up and stretched, heading for the corridor. It was rather cramped in the compartment, and he felt like walking about. As he stepped out the door, a small girl stepped in his way.

"What is it?" he growled, not used to younger students wanting to talk to him.

"I'm- I'm supposed to give this to Blaise Zabini," she said, stuttering at sharp glare he had turned on her, and holding out a small scroll of paper ostentatiously tied with violet ribbon. For a moment he wildly imagined it was from his mother- violet was one of her signature colors- but he realized that was ridiculous, she would have sent him an owl. And what would she have to say to him, after all?

He took the parchment with a gruff word of thanks and leaned against the wall of the train to read it.


Blaise Zabini,
You may not have heard of me, so I will briefly introduce myself. I am your new Professor, Horace Slughorn. I taught at Hogwarts years ago, and I have come out of retirement to return to my old place on staff. I am in Compartment C on this train, and I would be delighted if you could join me for a spot of lunch, along with a few other students.
Yours sincerely,
Professor H.E.F. Slughorn

The note was in swirly, old-fashioned handwriting written with dark violet ink. Blaise stared at it, perplexed. What did this man want with him? Maybe going would be worthwhile, just to see what would happen. This could be interesting.

Compartment C had several occupants already- the most prominent among them a disgustingly fat, bald old man in an expensive velvet suit who had to be Professor Slughorn. The others were a couple of boys Blaise knew vaguely, including Cormac McLaggen, whose stupid stunts had earned him a sort of fame among gossipers, and Marcus Belby, a complete wash-up of a Ravenclaw. Blaise heard a lot more of Hogwarts gossip now that Pansy was dating Draco. There was also a pretty redheaded girl huddled in the corner, looking annoyed, that Blaise identified as Ginny Weasley.

He had met Ginny before, and even argued with her a few times in the corridors about Muggleborns. Blaise rather liked the way she fought, with humor and wisecracks that were actually quite funny, but he couldn't understand how she could like Mudbloods or think they were worth anything. They obviously weren't born to the wizarding world and simply didn't belong, or deserve to be anything more than second-class citizens at best. Ginny hadn't liked it at all when he had told her as much.

He didn't have much time to think, though, for Professor Slughorn was pushing his great bulk off the seat to greet him.

"Blaise, my boy! Excellent, excellent to see you, I'm so glad you could come." Slughorn put a hand on his shoulder. "Let me introduce you to the others!"

Blaise nodded coolly at each introduction, not really wanting to get to know anyone else there. Most did acknowledge him, even Ginny, who glared, remembering their arguments. He couldn't help but smile slightly in response. She really was very pretty, but not really his type. She was taken aback by his response, but decided to ignore it. Slughorn noticed nothing, because Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom walked in just then, and he greeted them enthusiastically, with the enthusiasm mostly directed at Harry. Blaise noticed Ginny's eyes also followed Harry closely as he sat down, and he wondered how those two got along.

"Blaise Zabini is in your year, of course-" Slughorn said, and Blaise raised his gaze to Harry, who said nothing. It was the first time they had ever really made eye contact. Harry seemed to be glaring at him, and Blaise guessed it was only because he was a Slytherin, since they had never had anything to do with each other. It wasn't as though he really wanted to talk to the scar-face boy, anyway. Or as if Draco would let him survive if he did.

Slughorn started to interview Belby, and Blaise began to realize what was going on. Slughorn was trying to suck up to students with connections. But Blaise wasn't related to anyone in the Ministry. Had Slughorn invited him by mistake? Unless- the idea occurred to him for the first time- perhaps his father was, or had been, well-connected. Blaise didn't know if anyone else knew who he was. Did Slughorn?

"So, Blaise," Slughorn began, turning to him. Blaise braced himself for the unknown coming. Would Slughorn attack him, mock him, praise him? He wished he could know in advance, but he was about to find out.

"I remember your mother, you know, at Hogwarts. Not a top student or anything, but not half bad either. No, not at all. Quite brilliant at Charms, actually, in particular." Blaise looked at his eyes, wondering if the professor was going to taunt him. Professor Slughorn's beady eyes were, however, quite honest and open, happily reminiscing about old times, and eagerly watching Blaise's face. "And of course, quite beautiful! I don't think there was a boy in the school whose head didn't turn when she walked by. Only old Professor Binns didn't notice her, I suppose! She really did have striking- no, astonishing- features. You look quite like her, only much more masculine, of course. And she did quite well for herself, I hear. Care for a pheasant?"

Blaise nodded, a little disturbed now by the constant stares of everyone else in the compartment, all examining his features closely, but he was determined not to look like he was bothered. He took a bite of the bird, not worried that he would choke like that idiot Belby had a few minutes ago. Slughorn scooped up some chocolate truffles and gobbled them down greedily, barely chewing them.

"Yes, she married wealth, didn't she? Quite a few times, too. Just this summer I heard she married her..." he paused, hoping Blaise would fill in the number. Blaise resolutely remained silent, not wanting to help Slughorn in any way.

"Ah, seventh husband, wasn't it? Mr. Paxton. Wonderful man, I had him as a student too. Kind and caring, and very wealthy too!"

Blaise was beyond embarrassed at this point. He hated the man with all of his guts. This was the stuff of his nightmares, having to sit silently while his mother's doings were revealed to a staring crowd of students. Slughorn was a little disconcerted by his wall of silence, and moved on to interrogate Neville. Blaise nearly collapsed with relief.

When Slughorn moved on to Potter, Blaise listened a little more closely. He'd always been rather fascinated with Potter, somehow. They were so different- Potter was always in trouble, in danger. Always a hero- saving others, saving the wizarding world. He seemed to hate fame and publicity, and he had much more of it than Blaise did, that was certain. Both boys were Parselmouths, although no one knew that about Blaise, and he also had only a few close friends, although they were much closer to him than Draco and Theodore were to Blaise. Blaise had never quite understood the source of Draco's rivalry with Potter, but it was definite and well-established at this point.

However interested Blaise was in Potter's doings, Slughorn was overpraising him to no small extent. Blaise had seen him in classes, and he was perfectly average.

"-powers well beyond the ordinary-" Slughorn was saying. Blaise coughed politely but skeptically, just as a gesture to himself that he too could show his rudeness to Potter, if not quite as obviously as Draco did. He was surprised when a reaction came from, of all people, Ginny Weasley. He remembered the way she had watched Harry as he'd entered the carriage, and made a mental note.

"Yeah, Zabini," she said scornfully, "because you're so talented...at posing..."

Blaise met her eyes, and saw she really knew his nasty blank looks didn't match his emotions. He was impressed with her again. No one else had ever called him a poser to his face, and he so often acted emotionless to cover his feelings. Still, he couldn't let an insult go by, and he made a skeptical face at her. Slughorn informed them all of her cursing ability, which Blaise had seen before- she'd cursed Draco once when he had been bullying a first year. Gryffindor had lost a lot of points that day. He was surprised Slughorn had been impressed enough to invite her to his luncheon, even though she was a blood traitor, he thought contemptuously, allowing the expression to show on his face.

Slughorn told many long stories, all very dull, and Blaise ignored him for most of it. He had learned how to tune people out years ago, and instead he daydreamed about the snakes at Hogwarts, and what his classes would be like this year. The trip was nearing an end when Slughorn finally let them go. Blaise exchanged glares with the Gryffindors and headed back to his compartment with the other Slytherins.

When he reached the compartment, Blaise tried to close the door. It jammed, for some reason, and he said angrily, "What's wrong with this thing?" The others had
stopped talking and were looking up at him. Blaise banged the door so hard he went toppling sideways as it jerked the opposite direction, and landed smack on top of Goyle, not a place he wanted to be. Goyle flung him off and slammed the door shut, and Blaise finally got to sit down, feeling annoyed.

He noticed Draco was stretched out across several seats with his head in Pansy Parkinson’s lap. Blaise made a barely perceptible unpleasant face. Watching his mother was enough, he didn’t like watching Pansy act like that.

Draco, though, had a rather funny look on his face, and he was staring at the reflection of their compartment in the window.

“So, Zabini,� he said, “what did Slughorn want?�

“Just trying to make up to well-connected people,� said Blaise, still grumpy, “not that he managed to find many.�

Draco demanded to know who the others were, and Blaise obediently began a list of those he remembered. Draco, as Blaise had known he would, did not react well to the mention of Longbottom. He tried not to smirk. Draco was not a good person to laugh at, unless you happened to be bigger than Crabbe and Goyle combined.

“…think she’s good-looking, don’t you, Blaise, and we all know how hard you are to please!� Pansy said, looking sideways at Draco. Blaise caught a particular barb in her never-exactly-pleasant voice, and felt it was meant at him, though he wasn’t quite sure why. Marking it to think about later in the back of his mind, he took up the more obvious gauntlet instead, knowing she needed that reassurance of Draco, which he was all too happy to give.

“I wouldn’t touch a filthy little blood traitor like her whatever she looked like,� Blaise said, and watched her satisfied smile as Draco sank back onto her lap.

“Well, I pity Slughorn’s taste. Maybe he’s going a bit senile. Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a favorite of his. Slughorn probably hasn’t heard I’m on the train, or-“

Blaise was in a mood for conversational game-playing, and Draco didn’t seem to be in a violent mood, so it was probably safe to tell him something. “I wouldn’t bank on an invitation,� he said, and explained his guess that Slughorn was avoiding Death Eaters and consequently, Draco, though that last bit he didn’t actually say outright. Draco still looked angry, but let out a forced laugh and declared it didn’t matter to him.

“I mean, I might not even be at Hogwarts next year, what’s it matter to me if some fat old has-been likes me or not?�

“What do you mean, you might not be at Hogwarts next year?� Pansy said indignantly. Blaise wondered if she really cared, or if she was just upset that he hadn’t told her everything. No, Pansy really does like him, Blaise reminded himself. But what was Draco talking about? No one skipped year seven at Hogwarts. That was a major year, even forgetting N.E.W.T.s. Why was he-

“I might have- er- moved on to bigger and better things,� Draco said, with a weird expression on his face Blaise had never seen on him before. He stared at Draco with unconcealed curiosity.

“Do you mean- HIM?� Pansy breathed. Draco shrugged.

“Mother wants me to complete my education, but personally, I don’t see it as that important these days. I mean, think about it…when the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care how many O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s anyone’s got? Of course he isn’t…it’ll be all about the kind of service he received, the level of devotion he was shown.�

Blaise was rather surprised. He was no idiot, and he was in Slytherin- he knew all kinds of things about the Dark Lord and how he operated, even if he had never wanted to join himself, and he didn’t think the Dark Lord would give any assignments to a student, even a Malfoy.

“And you think you’ll be able to do something for him? Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?�

Malfoy looked past him, past all of them, staring into the distance.

“Maybe he doesn’t care if I’m qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn’t something you need to be qualified for,� Draco said quietly.

Blaise looked around, and could tell no one else really quite believed Draco had actually received an assignment from the Dark Lord. Crabbe and Goyle, admittedly, always looked rather dull, but they seemed to be more in shock at what Malfoy was saying than anything else. Pansy was impressed, but more at the strength of his daring announcement than anything else. She probably thought that his parents had told him he’d get an assignment after he graduated, and he was trying to impress her. Blaise was tempted to believe that too, but something about the look on Draco’s face changed his mind. Draco had gotten a job from the Dark Lord- though he had no idea why or what it could be, and he certainly wasn’t going to ask. Blaise shivered slightly.

They were nearly at Hogwarts, and Blaise changed into his robes. When the train stopped, everyone left the car.

Blaise realized a moment later that Draco had stayed behind, but shrugged, figuring he was simply packing up his trunk.

Draco ran up a few minutes later, jumping onto their carriage just before it pulled away from the station. Blaise realized he was terribly hungry, despite his lunch in Slughorn’s compartment, and he could hardly wait for the feast to start.

Snape and Hagrid were missing from the row of teachers, but nothing else seemed notable this year, Blaise thought. The Hat gave another warning about inter-house unity, which Blaise thought a hopeless cause since all the Gryffindors hated them so much. The food came out at last, and Blaise dug in with unusual eagerness.

There was a bang at the doors to the Great Hall, and the whole Hall gradually fell silent as Harry Potter charged down the aisle and people started to notice him. He was followed by an angry-looking Snape, who headed immediately to his seat. Blaise caught a quick look at Potter before he sat down, and was shocked to see his face covered in blood.

“What happened to Potter?� he asked aloud. He wasn’t the only one, either, judging by the buzz of sound that was filling the Hall.

Draco was sitting across from him and Theodore, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. “I happen to be the only Slytherin who knows the answer to that,� Draco said loudly, and everyone sitting nearby leaned in to listen. “I’ve known for a while, see, that Potter has an Invisibility Cloak, and on the train I saw things that made me suspicious.�

Things went click in Blaise’s head. “The door wouldn’t close!� he gasped.

Draco nodded. “Exactly.�

“But where was he hiding? You were sitting on all the extra seats!� Pansy said.

“Simple. The luggage rack, of course. I saw his sneaker for a second, and I heard him make a sound. I just put two and two together,� Draco said with affected modesty.

“So that’s why you kept staring at the window reflection, to see if you could get a glimpse of him without alerting him,� Blaise said.

“Right!� Draco laughed. “And what do you think I did?�

“Is it connected to the blood on Potter’s face, maybe?� Pansy sniggered.

“When you all left, I petrified him so he fell off the rack, then I stepped on his nose to break it. I was hoping no one would find him, I told him to enjoy his ride back to London, since no one would see him under his own cloak.� Draco sniggered. “I guess he has a bodyguard or something to baby him, since someone apparently found him. Lucky for him. But breaking his nose- ah, that was good.� Draco mimed smashing in his own nose, and laughed, obviously enjoying it. Some of the nearby listening Slytherins laughed too. Blaise felt rather sickened. He could never enjoy inflicting suffering, even on Potter. It was just- wrong. Sometimes you had to use curses and things, but to enjoy it-

Draco told the story to anyone who asked for it over the course of the feast. Blaise was getting sick of hearing it. He was also rather tired, and was glad when the feast ended and he could go to bed. Following the crowd of chattering Slytherins to the door in the dungeons, Blaise found his trunk in its place by his bed and happily prepared for sleep.

Chapter 5- Secret Organizations

The first Hogsmeade weekend of the year was nasty weather. Blaise made his way down just for the butterbeer, since no one was going with him. Theodore was going with Tracey Davis, who was apparently his new girlfriend, and Draco wasn’t going at all.

Blaise’s trip was memorable for one event- he was in the Three Broomsticks, watching the people walking by, and witnessed Harry Potter nearly strangling a shabby-looking man holding a suitcase. Potter was hurried inside by his friends after the man had apparated away, Potter obviously fuming. Blaise was curious, and listened in.

“Can’t the Order-“ Blaise caught, and, “-when he’s at Headquarters-“ but then the bushy-haired Muggleborn girl wisely got him to be quiet, so that was all Blaise heard. He thought about trying to move closer, but was suddenly surrounded by a large group of drunken warlocks and was forced to stay where he was.

Hmmm, he thought. Order…Headquarters…Potter is the Dark Lord’s enemy. What other sort of an Order could it be? I think I just overheard something Potter wouldn’t want me to hear.

The next consideration was, of course, if he would tell anyone. But who? Draco? Draco could get the news to the Dark Lord, more likely than not. But what news was it, really? Just a vague idea that there were people out there against the Dark Lord who fought him in some way, and a description of one possible member. The Dark Lord probably knew about the existence of an Order anyway, but Blaise found himself disinclined to give them away in any way. It was admirable, really, nobly fighting against a Dark wizard. He didn’t plan on seeking them out and joining them, certainly, definitely not for him, but he didn’t want to side against them either. No one knew he’d heard anything, so nothing would happen if he kept quiet.

His mind made up, Blaise left the Three Broomsticks and headed back for Hogwarts.

* * *

Blaise stood at the corner of the corridor by the statue of Ulrid the Unruly, the inventor of some obscure potion that Blaise couldn’t remember the name of. He had seen no reason not to be where the note had told him, at least until he knew more about who it was that had arranged for it to be on his bed when he got back to his room after class yesterday.

He had arrived at the rendezvous point five minutes early, but now it was exactly the right time, and sure enough, two large Slytherin boys rounded the corner heading straight towards him. One he recognized; Danos Vrawe was a tall seventh year pureblood, scion of a family with both wealth and prestige. The other boy looked familiar but Blaise only learned his name as they both introduced themselves to him- the second, a bulky, square-jawed boy with a perpetual scowl, was Angus Ford.

Danos started off the conversation.

“Zabini, I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of a little club that both of us are part of.�

“Gobstones?� said Blaise ironically.

Danos ignored him. “What we’re asking here is simple, and you’re supposed to be smart.�

“Stop hinting. Spell it out for me, please,� Blaise said, annoyed.

“Are you interested in joining our group? There, simple enough for you?� Angus said.

“Why?� Blaise said without thinking. It looked like this was a bad move, for the two older boys drew back and raised their eyebrows.

“Well…�Danos said, “you’re no weakling. You’re a Slytherin, and everybody says you’re a pureblood. Are you showing up tonight for a meeting, then?�

“No thank you,� Blaise said politely, “I’ve never been the type to enjoy secret societies.� He meant, but didn’t say or even hint with his expression, that he didn’t enjoy hanging around with thugs and slimeballs. He knew the type of friends these two had.

They stared at each other again, as if wondering what to say next.

“You’re scared,� Angus said finally. “Listen, we’ll ask you once more tomorrow or else-“ he coughed meaningfully- “certain people are going to hear about this.�

“Which people?� Blaise asked pleasantly.

They exchanged increasingly nervous looks, and Angus said, “Some of our friends, who wanted you to join.�

“Won’t they know anyway when I don’t show up tonight? Why would I care when you tell them?� Blaise asked.

“Because the unpleasantness for you will start even earlier,� Danos said sinisterly.

Blaise sighed. “Why do you care if I join? Honestly.�

Both Danos and Angus were confused. Blaise could tell the type of people they usually invited were eager to be accepted.

“You’ve got talents, and it’d be a shame to waste them,� Angus said.

“And if you are using them, secretly on your own, then it’s unfair not to share what you learn- with those deserving, of course,� Danos added.

“I see,� Blaise said. “Well, tell your friends that I have no special secret talents I’m using, and I have no interest in pretending that I do.� He turned around and walked away, hoping they wouldn’t follow.

He was lucky; they stayed by the statue talking quietly as he tried to walk at a normal speed. The library would be the best place now- no point in going back to the common room since they were Slytherins too.

Those “talents� must mean the Dark Arts, obviously, he thought, but why me? What did I do to make them think I would be interested in the Dark Arts? I’ve never been that type of Slytherin. Everyone just thinks I’m a loner- I am a loner. What idiot would invite me to join a club?

Still puzzled, Blaise sat down at an empty table in the library, determining to keep as low a profile as possible for the next few days. He did most of his studying in his room, or in a crowded place where no one could approach him quietly, and he made a point of walking with a large group on his way to and from class. The little Dark Arts club seemed to get the message, for after four days he no longer spotted random pairs of various of his least favorite Slytherins hanging around somewhere near him in the halls and at meals. With relief, Blaise decided not to worry about the episode for now, and pushed it to the back of his mind.

* * *

“Blaise,� Draco began, “I need to talk to you.�

“You have your chance, then,� Blaise said, putting down his notes. “What’s on your mind?�

“You’re always studying,� Draco said, looking down at Blaise’s bed, which was covered in books and notes. He swept his hand through the piles, knocking them all over the bed and onto the floor “Why do you bother?�

“Our exams are in a month,� Blaise reminded him.

“Still. You could spend a little more time on other things.�

“Like what, exactly?�

“Like…spells with more power than the wimpy ones they teach us.�

“Why would I want to do that?� Blaise asked, beginning to feel a nervous dread about where this was going.

“When the Dark Lord comes to power, do you think he’ll care what marks you’ve got? I’ve told you this before, I know I have. But don’t you think he’ll want you to know more useful skills?� Draco asked.

“But even if I did have skills he wanted, who says I’d offer them?� Blaise responded.

Draco’s mouth dropped open and he didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Why?� he said finally, his voice loaded with incredulity. “Do you think you can hide from him? Are you going to join his enemies?�

“Well,� Blaise said uncomfortably, “I don’t like to pick sides here. I’m on my own side, that’s all. Why would I want to work for someone else’s agenda?� He also knew how the Dark Lord treated his own followers, and saw no reason to choose that sort of master- but he wasn’t about to say that in front of Draco.

Draco shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you out to lunch, Zabini? To avoid him without even any plan for protecting yourself? I don’t understand why you’d refuse to join him at all, but at least have a plan of joining someone else for protection to prove you aren’t entirely insane!�

“But he hasn’t really invited me, and you know not all Slytherins join. If no one cares about me I can just get a normal job and be, you know, normal.� Blaise hadn’t realized until he’d said this just how badly he’d wanted that. To get a job, rise in its ranks, have his own life...

But Draco interrupted his realization. “Blaise- you don’t understand. I was told- I was told to ask you about joining.�

“Yes?� Blaise asked, though he knew the answer already all too well. “By whom?�

Draco answered, looking down at the floor. “Some- some friends of my father’s. Important ones.�

Blaise gulped, the world around him changing to an undependable, unpredictable quagmire. “Do you know why? How do they even know who I am?�

“There aren’t all that many purebloods around, and your mother is known to be one. And she only marries purebloods. They might just be acting on that. But Blaise, you’re my friend, so I’ll tell you this- I had a sense, while they were talking to me. No more than a guess, mind you- but I had a sense that the order wasn’t coming from the men who spoke with me, but from even higher up.� Draco had an uncharacteristically serious look on his face.

“Thanks for telling me,� Blaise said automatically.

Draco hesitated. “Blaise, are you sure? Are you absolutely sure you know what you’re doing? It’s not too late to say yes.�

“That’s all right. I’m not going to,� Blaise said with finality. He was rather touched at this sign that Draco cared.

“Look, I’ll have to give them your answer,� Draco said. “How can I phrase it to get you in minimum trouble? Though I don’t know if there is any way that’ll make them happy. But are you sure you don’t want to join? It’s the best way. And you’re no Muggle lover, you’re a real Slytherin- it might be you’ll find it’s your place.�

“No, Draco,� Blaise said. “How about, ‘He thanks you for your offer but is not interested at this time.’ Make them think there’s a little opening for the future, that I’m not actually rejecting them completely. What do you think?�

“Not bad, I suppose,� Draco said reluctantly, “But, Blaise-“

“Forget it,� Blaise said firmly. “And good luck, Draco. Now I’m going to study.� He stuck his face resolutely in a book and a moment later he heard the door of the room close softly.

Blaise dropped the book, staring at his hands, which were shaking. What was going on lately? Who was so interested in him? What did he have, lone, secretive Blaise, that would make anyone go after him?

The Dark Arts were interesting, he admitted to himself, but that was because the difficulty of the spells was a challenge. He would never want to fight a war with them. There were better ways to gain power.

But why did they want him? His thoughts returned to dwell on the same point over and over. And if Draco was right, and the order came from someone beyond a common recruiter, what did that mean? He would have to be very, very careful in the future. He just wished he knew exactly what sort of danger it was that he was trying to avoid.

Chapter 6- Redheaded Rescue
It was a beautiful sunny weekend, despite a slight chill lingering in the air. Blaise, wrapped in a cloak, took a path down to the lake intending to read and enjoy the sunlight.

He picked a fairly quiet spot on the far side of the lake to sit and watch the antics of the other students, or to look for a sudden splash in the middle of the water- sometimes he’d glimpse a tentacle if he kept a sharp eye out.

There was a quiet snapping sound behind him and Blaise turned his head. He froze as he realized that there were three men crouching on the hard ground, behind the bush he was leaning on. They were at an angle where they could not be easily seen from the castle, but even though Blaise could see them he didn’t know who they were- all of them had hoods covering their faces.

They were obviously not supposed to be there, and Blaise wondered how they had managed to get on the grounds. What were they doing here?

Blaise was not left in doubt much longer.

“Blaise Zabini?� the closest one said in a low voice. Blaise jerked in surprise at hearing his name from these strange visitors and nearly scratched himself on a low branch.

“How do you- what are you doing?� he sputtered.

“Shh,� the second one hissed threateningly. “We all have wands pointed at you. No false moves.�

Blaise nodded slowly, and the first man continued. “Well, fellows, we’ve got to meet him at last.� He bowed mockingly, making the other two chortle. “Pleasure, Mr. Zabini.�

“How did you get onto the grounds?� Blaise said nervously.
The second man laughed mysteriously. “Well, we could hardly send you a letter,� he said. Blaise let his hand go unobtrusively near his pocket, within easy reach of his wand.

“What do you want?� he said, trying to sound bold.

“We have a proposal to make to you.� The man in the middle leaned closer toward him, giving him a sly grin.

“Just a proposal? Then why are your wands out?� Blaise tightened his grip on his own wand.

“We were worried you might be surprised to see us, and react too strongly,� the man said smoothly.

But Blaise knew that wasn’t it. He was hit with a sudden feeling that he really, really didn’t want to wait until he heard them out.

In a swift movement he’d often practiced, he yanked the wand out of his pocket.

“Stupefy! Impedimenta! Impedimenta!�

Blocking out their shouted replies, he cast a shield charm as powerfully as he knew how and ran for the castle, panic adding to his speed. Thankful he’d always been a good runner, he cast a subtle charm to his feet to go even faster. It was a spell he’d needed far too often- he’d often used it when he was younger, to escape a few of his mother’s more violent husbands.

Startled students looked up at him as he zipped between them, plowing into a few. He made it to one of the smaller castle doors and risked a glance back. Only two of the original three were following- he must have hit one. The remaining men apparently didn’t dare run through the students as he had, since they too obviously didn’t belong there. As he watched, they began circling around the students, where some trees provided patchy cover all the way up to where he was standing.

Blaise hurried inside the castle and down the corridor, where there was a staircase. At the top, the corridor thankfully split in two. He chose the one on the right and skidded down it, then realized that it only led to some rarely-used classrooms and not to anywhere that would help him hide.

Dashing back to the left corridor, he ran down it, not sure whether to bless or curse that it was empty. If he took that door he could get back to the common room- no, too far away. The Great Hall? If it was empty, though, he’d be caught like a deer in an empty field in that big room. Too big of a risk, he decided.

He ran through other plans in his mind as he ran, panting through a hallway and up some stairs to the third floor. Suddenly recognizing the entrance to a secret passage, he ripped aside a tapestry and darted into a corridor behind it, hoping against hope that they wouldn’t follow.

Pounding footsteps skidding behind him told him that his hopes had been disappointed. He rounded another corner at top speed, smacking into someone’s side. Blaise righted his direction and kept running.

“Hey! Aren’t you even going to apologize?� a girl’s voice shouted after him.

“I can’t! No time!� Blaise yelled as he dashed around a bend. “Run!� He hoped that she’d listen- he had caught a brief glimpse of red although he hadn’t really seen her, and it wouldn’t be good for a Gryffindor to meet the men chasing him.

A yelp came from the hall, and then a loud crash and then several simultaneous screams. Blaise paused, frozen with indecision. Those screams hadn’t been a girl’s.

No one came around the corner after him, and after a moment Blaise pulled himself together and stepped nervously back towards where the girl had been.

She was standing, unruffled, with her wand pointed at two men, one unconscious and the other seemingly frozen with nasty-looking goo all over his face.

“Zabini?� she said. “What’s going on around here?�

Blaise somehow wasn’t surprised that Ginny Weasley had managed to take down two probable Death Eaters.

“Thanks,� he said. “They were chasing me, yeah. Good bit of spell work there.�

“Thanks,� Ginny said in turn, looking surprised at the compliment. “Why were they chasing you? And how’d they get into Hogwarts?�

“Long story,� Blaise said, leaning back against the wall to catch his breath.

Ginny tapped her foot impatiently. “Well? I think I have a right to know what’s going on, after what I just did. Spill.�

Blaise shrugged. She was right, she had helped him. He should tell her what had happened, as much as he would normally hate to share anything. “Well, the short version is, I was sitting by the lake, and they snuck up on me, wands out. All they really said was that they had a proposal for me, before I pulled my wand on them and ran for it. I’ve been avoiding trouble for a while, truthfully. I wish I knew how they got in. They must be getting really determined to get me now.�

Blaise looked down at Ginny’s face, and was surprised to see a flash of a pitying expression, although she quickly replaced it with a blank frown. It made him uncomfortable, though- he didn’t want her pity.

“Go to Dumbledore,� Ginny said abruptly.

“Sorry?�

“I said, go to Dumbledore.�

“Why would I do that?�

Ginny looked at him incredulously. “He could help you. Drop the Slytherin mentality for a second, and you’d know that yourself. It’s hard to believe that there’s a Slytherin who’s actually trying to stay out of the Dark side. It’d be a shame to lose you to it just because you won’t go to Dumbledore for help. You’re all such idiots, honestly.�

“Not all Slytherins are the same,� Blaise said. “Are all Gryffindors exactly alike? I mean, Neville Longbottom the dweeb isn’t quite Harry Potter, is he?�

“Don’t insult Neville, please,� Ginny snapped. “Your point?�

“There are Slytherins and then there are Slytherins,� Blaise said. “I, for one, don’t want to end up in virtual slavery to any master. What kind of a favor would Dumbledore ask in return for saving me from one possible unpleasant fate?�

“You…� Ginny’s voice trailed off, and her hazel eyes looked at him speculatively. “You really think that Dumbledore would-- Look, don’t compare You-know-who to Dumbledore, all right? It’s a totally different potion in the cauldron. Dumbledore has actually heard of altruism.�

“Who mentioned You-know-who?� Blaise scowled. “I don’t know whose men these are.�

“I don’t want to get any closer, or I’d roll up their sleeves and check for you,� Ginny said with mock sweetness. “Honestly, Zabini, do they have to tell you themselves before you’ll wake up to the obvious? Look at them- thugs in dark robes chasing you, trying to get you to join something.�

“All right,� Blaise conceded. He hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself, but she was right. Blaise cast a sidelong glance at Ginny, and blurted out, “You’re bleeding!�

Ginny’s hand went involuntarily to her cheek, where a cut had begun to drip blood.

“Oh, I am. I’ll clean up later,� she said with a shrug, and wiped the red trickle away with a finger. “We need to tell someone about these men.�

“There’s another outside somewhere, I think,� Blaise admitted. “There used to be three. I may have hit him, but I don’t know.�

“Three of them?� Ginny’s eyes widened. “If they are Death Eaters, how did they get in, anyway? Doesn’t Dumbledore have protections up against that?�

“I thought so,� Blaise said, “And I guess Dumbledore thought so too. We’d better go tell him now- we can’t go after the third one now, even if he is still there.�

“Yeah, let’s get moving, then. Mobilicorpus,� Ginny said, pointing her wand at the unconscious one.

Blaise did the same for the other, refraining from his urge to ask what the sickening pale goo on the man’s face was. They walked without speaking down the hallways, Ginny leading, towards the headmaster’s office.

Ginny suddenly turned and looked at Blaise somewhat nervously. “The third man outside- what if he’s gone to report?�

“To- to other Death Eaters, you mean?� Blaise asked.

“Or worse.�

“Well, nothing we can do about it now.� Blaise shrugged and walked a bit faster.

“You don’t want him to report, do you?� Ginny said, giving him another funny look.

“What’s that supposed to mean?� Blaise demanded. When she didn’t say anything, he retorted, “They were chasing me, hello? I’m avoiding them here.�

“You’ve already said there are different types of Slytherins. What type are you, Zabini?�

“Look, I know things about- about Potter- that you wouldn’t want these men knowing, and I haven’t said anything.�

“You know things?� Ginny repeated, looking suddenly fierce. “What could you know?�

“Nothing really,� Blaise said with a shrug. “Overheard a conversation or two- not even on purpose. I’m saying it’s for your good too, to help keep them from getting hold of me.�

“Ugh,� Ginny groaned. “Slytherins. I am helping you, if you haven’t noticed, you great twit.�

“I—“ Blaise said awkwardly. “I know. Thanks. Sorry.�

“Humph,� she sniffed, walking a bit faster to get ahead of him, and they walked the remaining minute to the office without talking.

“Shall we go up?� Ginny said when they arrived, staring at the gargoyle at the entrance.

“You know the password?� Blaise said.

“No, but I can guess. Fizzing Whizzbees. Blood pops. Ginger snaps. Er…help me, will you?�

“Cockroach clusters?� Blaise offered tentatively. “Are you sure it’s a candy?�

“It usually is,� Ginny said, shrugging. “Fever Fudge. Puking Pastilles.�

They both stared in surprise when the entrance ground open.

“Puking Pastilles?� they said in unison.

“I’ll have to tell my brothers- they’ll take it as a tribute,� Ginny said. “Come on.� She directed the unconscious body up the stairs and followed it, Blaise right behind.

“Albus, I don’t want you telling me what’s most important. This is what matters to me, and you know it,� an angry voice growled from behind the partly open door of Dumbledore’s office.

“Severus, I know. But it’s not fair to Ha-“ Dumbledore’s voice stopped abruptly. “Come in!�

Ginny pushed the door open and they entered, Ginny first. Blaise noted the surprised look on Dumbledore’s face at the sight of the suspended, unconscious bodies. Snape, however, stood up abruptly.

“I have to go, Headmaster. Urgent work I’ve neglected.� His face was closed and harsh, with his jaw set in a hard line and his eyes flat and furious.

“If you’re sure, Severus,� Dumbledore said, staring hard into Snape’s eyes. Blaise had an odd feeling there was more to the conversation than he knew about. After a moment of glaring at his Headmaster, Snape turned sharply and fairly ran out of the room. Dumbledore turned his attention to the newcomers, looking over them both in an assessing way.

“Blaise, Ginny. However did you get ahold of…Gracious! Deneb and Baulman, if I’m not mistaken.�

“You know them, sir?� Ginny said in surprise.

“Unfortunately. So do the Aurors, I’m afraid. They will be glad to see you two have gotten them ahead in their work. I’ll owl them at once,� Dumbledore said, and gestured for them to be seated. He began scribbling on a piece of parchment and went over to the window of his office. “Would you two mind telling me what happened?�

“Zabini ran into me in the corridor, sir, and screamed for me to run. I took a step back and got these two as they ran past,� Ginny said, not without pride.

“And why were they chasing you here at Hogwarts, Blaise?� Dumbledore tied the letter onto an owl’s leg and tossed it gently towards the afternoon sun.

Blaise glanced uncomfortably at Ginny. “Er, it’s like this, sir,� he began. “I’ve been sought after for a while. Some Slytherin seventh-years, even my friends were giving me messages or warnings, and now these people approaching me down by the lake- oh! Sir, there was a third man also- I may have hit him with a spell, or he may have left, I don’t know-“

“I’ll send someone after him,� Dumbledore said quickly, and he pointed his wand out the window. Blaise saw a silver streak rush out of the wand tip in the direction of the grounds.

“There, if he’s still there, he’ll be taken care of,� Dumbledore said, returning to his seat behind his desk. “So you have been approached a couple of times by various persons- to do what, exactly?�

“The seventh-years wanted me to join their club- that was the most direct, but the result would have been the same as if I joined You-Know-Who right now,� Blaise said.

Dumbledore opened his mouth, probably to tell him to use You-Know-Who’s name, Blaise thought with annoyance, and he continued quickly, “And a friend of mine passed on a message from- from some of his family members. About…recruitment. I’ve been careful for the past couple of months to avoid anyone who might approach me with a more direct request. So even if there was supposed to be one, they wouldn’t have caught me. I didn’t expect them to come up from behind while I was on the grounds,� he finished bitterly.

“Yes, I’ll be looking into that. They shouldn’t have been able to get into Hogwarts, but that is for me to deal with. So what do you propose to do now, Blaise?� Dumbledore asked directly.

“Er-“ Blaise was taken by surprise. “Don’t know. Sir,� he added belatedly.

“You are here to ask my protection?�

Blaise looked helplessly at Ginny, who was leaning forward in her chair, wide-eyed.

“Er, I suppose so, sir,� he said.

“You don’t want to be forced to join Voldemort’s forces, but you are afraid you will be forced to say yes…� Dumbledore fingered his long beard thoughtfully.

“For now, stick with your plan to avoid the situation altogether. Stay inside as much as you can, or with crowds, and I will work on whatever breach in security let these men in. When summer comes closer, come here and we will make plans for you. For now, finish with your classes and if anything happens, come to me. If I am not here, go to Professor McGonagall- I’ll talk to her about it. Does that sound all right, Blaise?�

“Yes, sir.� Blaise hoped it would be all right, anyway. And the summer- he hadn’t even thought about what he would do in the summer!

“Then you may go. Good luck. Remember, come to me if anything happens, or if you think of anything else, or even if you think something is about to happen. Ginevra, will you stay here a moment?�

“Yes, Headmaster,� Ginny said. Blaise gave her one last glance before he left the office.

He thought about Dumbledore’s words as he walked. Would that be enough to protect him? He wasn’t sure how seriously Dumbledore had taken him. And was the threat so serious, after all?

But Blaise reminded himself of what Draco had said about suspecting there was something more to this push to recruit him, possibly from higher up in the ranks. And then, there were the men who had actually gotten into Hogwarts to go after him- Dumbledore surely wouldn’t take that lightly, and he shouldn’t either.

Blaise was taken aback as he turned a corner approaching the Slytherin dormitory and came face to face with a ghostly pale, wheezing Draco Malfoy.

Chapter 7- But I Never Really Noticed

The fading red glow of sunset through the windows illuminated Draco Malfoy’s too-pale face and the crow’s feet etched as though they had been permanently embedded around his eyes, giving him a freakish, eerie, half-dead look. Blaise’s eyes widened.

“Draco?�

“What?� Draco growled, his voice weak and cracking as he spoke. “Stop staring at me, will you?�

“You’ve looked a bit off-peak for months now, Draco, but this is beyond a bout of flu. Have you been to Madame Pomfrey?� Blaise said with concern. It wasn’t his problem if Draco was ill, but he was alarmed that his housemate resembled an Inferius more than a human.

“That meddlesome Dumbledore-loving harpy? I don’t think so.� Draco gave a rattling cough that belied his next words. “I’m fine, Zabini, leave me alone.� He tried to push past Blaise.

“Draco,� Blaise said with exasperation, and Draco reluctantly looked him in the eye.

“Look, I’m sorry,� Draco said, backing down a little. “I’m under a bit of pressure at the moment-�

“A bit?� Blaise snorted. “More like a rock the size of Sisyphus’s.�

“Yeah,� Draco said defiantly. “I’m coping. I’ve just got a lot on my plate.�

“You haven’t thought of asking for help?� Blaise said tentatively.

“Are you joking?� Draco said, sounding for a moment like his old self. “What if they messed with what I’m doing? And if- when I succeed, they’ll take all the credit. I know their plans.� A sour look crossed his face. “I’ve got to go, Blaise. Thanks for- for asking.� Despite his standoffish attitude, Blaise knew Draco was grateful that someone had cared enough to ask.

After one last moment, Draco broke eye contact and turned away from him, practically flying down the hall. Blaise stood still for a minute instead of going on towards the Slytherin dungeon.

He tried to think about what Draco’s secret might be- he respected Draco’s wish to not share what he was doing, but that didn’t mean Blaise didn’t want to know. Draco didn’t love his father, not really, but Blaise thought he was more upset by his father’s arrest last year than he’d ever let on.

But he suspected Draco’s changed character and appearance had more to do with the Dark Lord directly. A stray memory of Draco on the train last September surfaced.

“I might not even be at Hogwarts next year. I might have moved on to bigger and better things.�

“Maybe he doesn’t care if I’m qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn’t something you need to be qualified for.�

Blaise remembered his impression that Draco might actually have gotten a job for the Dark Lord. But no one had mentioned anything again, and he hadn’t thought to connect Draco’s ill, washed-out appearance with it. Until now. What exactly was Draco Malfoy up to?

Sighing, Blaise made his way back to his common room. As he settled down on his bed with a stack of books, he thought wryly that if he told himself one more time to keep his eyes and ears open, the holes in his head would grow so wide that his brain would fall out.

The next morning, Blaise was unusually tired and grumpy. He hadn’t slept well, worries floating through his head and interrupting his sleep throughout the night, and he made his way through the common room with a scowl.

“Blaise?� a high-pitched, unpleasant voice called from behind him.

Blaise turned, surprised to see it was Daphne Greengrass. “What?� he demanded.

“I heard about your run-in yesterday,� she said, looking at him with suspicion.

“So?� Blaise said. Dozens of students had seen him running and the men chasing him. Rumors were bound to get around. “What’s your point?� he said, wanting nothing more than to get away and get some breakfast.

“Can I talk to you for a minute? In the corner, I mean,� she added when Blaise looked at her sarcastically.

“Fine,� he grumbled, and followed her to a quiet end of the room.

“What did you mean by attacking those men yesterday?� she hissed, surprising him.

“What did I mean by what? They were threatening me, and they were strangers who really shouldn’t have been in Hogwarts.�

“Be honest with me, will you?� Daphne accused, her beady eyes piercing.

“I am,� Blaise said. “Perfectly. Are you calling me a liar?�

Daphne didn’t respond directly, but said bluntly, “Are you joining the Dark Lord?�

Blaise drew a slow, measured breath. “That,� he said quietly, “is a stupid question to ask someone. And my personal plans are not currently up for discussion.�

“You’ve been avoiding a lot of people, Blaise,� Daphne accused, glaring at him. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed, even if most people haven’t. You know what I think?�

“I think I’m about to learn,� Blaise said drily, but she ignored him.

“I think you’re a coward. I think you’re too scared to do anything. And a Gryffindor calling you a coward is practically a compliment, but I’m a Slytherin, and I think you’re being utterly pathetic,� she spat.

“I see,� Blaise said, a bit shocked at her vitriolic tone.

“I think you’re a pathetic git and a fool, too. What kind of a pureblood are you?� Daphne’s tone rose to a grating screech.

“Look, Daphne,� Blaise said, looking down into her dark, angry eyes, “I’m not standing here to be abused. I’ll ask you again. What’s your point?�

“To tell you what I think of you unless you change your path!� Daphne exclaimed with even more fury, as if she was upset that he even had to ask. “I’m giving up on you, Zabini, you cowardly scum.�

Shoving him in an attempt to run past him, she dashed away in the direction of the girls’ dormitories. Blaise stood still for a moment, and he thought he heard her make a strange, strangled sound as she disappeared through the doorway.

At the Slytherin table, he was unsurprised that she didn’t show up for breakfast. He slid into a seat next to Theodore.

“How are you, mate?� Theodore asked casually. Theodore, like Draco, had been upset by his father’s capture and imprisonment, but his moodiness and occasional nasty comments were nothing compared to how Draco was now.

“Rotten, actually.�

“What’s up, Blaise?� Tracey Davis, Theodore’s blonde girlfriend asked. Theodore was always marginally more pleasant when she was around- she had a good effect on his mood.

Blaise shrugged. “Slept badly, and just now Daphne Greengrass gave me a major telling-off. Not sure what was with that, but it was a bad start to my morning.�

“You don’t know why?� Tracey said, leaning in closer. She loved a good gossip, and Blaise could see her grey eyes widening eagerly.

“No, I don’t, didn’t I say? Why, do you know?� he asked, giving her the chance that she was obviously going to take anyway.

“She’s been mad about you for ages, isn’t it obvious?�

“Sorry?� Blaise didn’t register her words.

“She. Fancies. You.� Tracey repeated in a slow voice
reserved for people who were being thick. “Well, fancied you. From the sound of it.� She giggled at Blaise. “You’re actually surprised?�

“I’ve barely said five sentences to her all year, until today,� Blaise protested. “Why would she care about me?�

“Girls are unfathomable, Blaise,� Theodore said with a grin, and Tracey giggled again.

“You do have the silent, mysterious loner thing going for you,� she offered. “But how could you not have noticed? She’s had a thing for you for a while.�

“She did send me a letter this summer,� Blaise remembered.

“You are oblivious, aren’t you,� Theodore said, laughing. “How obvious did she need to be?�

“Well, it’s over now,� Blaise said. “I’m apparently a ‘pathetic wimp,’ and she’s declared herself to be giving up on me.�

Tracey clucked sympathetically. “Missed your chance, I’m afraid.�

She began to talk with a seventh-year girl sitting farther away, and Blaise lapsed into silence, moodily chewing a piece of toast.

He had never really thought about Daphne- girls usually ignored him, and he had never thought that she was interested in him. She wasn’t amazingly pretty, but when he thought about it, she was kind of good-looking, but not really his type. And her personality was as grating as her voice.

“Where does she get off, calling me a coward?� Blaise muttered inaudibly into his toast. Who needed her good opinion? True, he didn’t want to join the Dark Lord, but not because he was afraid. It was probably just as dangerous to refuse. And whatever he did was entirely his own business anyway.

Forget Daphne, he told himself firmly. No great loss there. You never even noticed her, and there are much better fish in the sea. Not that his lifestyle of the near future promised much time to socialize- chances were he’d have to go into hiding. Someday, when there was peace, perhaps.

Blaise snatched another piece of toast and slathered it liberally with marmalade to distract himself from his despondent, restless feelings.

* * *

“Class dismissed,� Professor McGonagall said sharply. Blaise was thinking hard, and stayed in his seat for longer than usual, gathering his papers up.

“Zabini?� a quiet voice said from far too close. Blaise jumped, and realized McGonagall was standing right next to him, and the last few students were leaving the room.

“Yes, Professor?�

“Are you feeling all right, Zabini? You haven’t moved for a few minutes,� she said.

“Oh. Yes, I’m fine. I was just distracted for a moment.�

“I see.� She lowered her voice. “The headmaster has told me of your talk with him.�

“Yes?� Blaise said.

“I just thought I’d tell you that I am aware of the situation. You may come to me if there are any new developments and you can’t reach the Headmaster. You may also find it reassuring to know that a few improvements have been made to the castle’s protections, although we are still not entirely sure how those men got in.�

“Oh.�

“Has anything happened?� McGonagall asked curiously, her gaze uncomfortably sharp.

“No, not really,� Blaise said, examining the wood of his desk.

“Not really?� she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Nothing you need to worry about,� Blaise said, the words coming out more harshly then he’d meant them. “I was told off by another Slytherin. I don’t think it was connected to a threat.�

“Ah, in that case,� McGonagall said, not finishing her sentence. “Well, good luck, Zabini. You may go.�

Theodore was standing outside the classroom, surprising Blaise. “What did the old witch want with you?� he sneered.

Blaise shrugged, wishing Tracey were with him. He really didn’t like spending time with Theodore these days when she was somewhere else. He had a sudden strong feeling that he had to tread very carefully here.

“She’s suspicious of me, for some reason.� He smirked at his friend. “Can’t think why, eh? I mind my own business. Don’t we all?�

Theodore snorted. “Ha. You’re the lucky one.� He started walking, leaving Blaise to wonder what his cryptic comment meant.

When Blaise returned to his room, he sat down hard on his bed intending to rest for a few minutes. A crinkling sound alerted him to the fact that he’d just sat on a piece of paper. He lifted it from the bedclothes and discovered it was a letter addressed to him, in his mother’s handwriting.

“What on earth could she possibly have to say to me?� Blaise muttered aloud.