Discoveries
Blaise was very tired of waiting. He had been waiting for something or other for as long as he could remember. He could not, however, bring himself to try and leave Hogwarts before he had heard from the littlest Weasley. So he determined to wait, for the last time.
It was a while before she returned, but she seemed to be intact and she had an old bag full of what in Blaise’s mind could only be described as Treasure. Apparently, Gi-Weasley had managed to find Regulus Black’s room and unearthed some old notebooks and texts. Blaise examined their covers, and although they all looked very interesting he couldn’t find it in him to actually open one and read it at the moment. He looked back at the Weasley girl who seemed to be in a state of severe agitation.
“Sit still, Weasley,” he said, “You’re making me cross-eyed.”
“It’s not my fault you have nothing better to do than watch me pace, Zabini.”
She did sit down, though, and then she started tapping her foot in the most irritating way so Blaise couldn’t even think anymore. McGonagall’s decision was not a slow one. Soon enough her voice echoed around the school.
“I would like to announce that the Minister and his group of Aurors will be leaving us momentarily. Any student wishing to escort them may proceed to the Entrance Hall. Classes will resume as usual tomorrow morning.”
Escort him? Blaise stifled a laugh as Ginny grabbed his hand and pulled him out through the halls to the scene of action. A huge throng of students was rushing to the Entrance Hall.
On the fifth floor Ernie McMillan caused quite a scene by suddenly attacking one of the “Dark Mark Detectors” with a powerful spell that reduced it to a pile of green-tinged rubble. Apparently, no matter how afraid of the Death Eaters they might be or how deeply rooted in the side of good no student who had witnessed Umbridge could stand the two words Ministry and Decree, especially combined.
The highlight of the day, however, was when McGonagall manually tore down the largest of the decree posters right before the fuming Minister’s eyes. Blaise thought Gryffindors were highly underrated.
“Sixth and Seventh Years follow me please.”
It was then, as they all followed McGonagall to her office, that Blaise noticed Ginny’s hand was still in his.
…
“I would like to impress upon you all the importance of standing together as one, of helping one another in this dark time.” McGonagall began, “The war has penetrated these walls whether we like it or not and a Professor has been killed, but the loss which I feel more is that of the young man that used to walk our halls and laugh with us.”
There was a short silence in which McGonagall’s face suddenly reddened considerably, “I am making a pact to you right now that Anthony Goldstein will not be left to the Ministry to deal with. He was, if nothing else, a boy and I will do my utmost to make sure that if he was indeed operating under the Imperius Curse as many are led to believe he should not be left to the mercy of the Ministry.”
“I am not going to ask you to report any strange behavior that you see from any of your peers, because this is not what we need now, we need unity. I will, however, clarify that this Ministry episode will not occur again and that no student from this school will be harmed or dealt with harshly or unjustly as long as I am in charge here. You may pick up your altered patrol schedules as you leave, the Prefects cannot do this alone.”
No one spoke as they filed slowly out of the room, and although Blaise doubted whether her reassurances were actually heard by any of the students he thought it was clever of McGonagall to make that clear. One of the Ravenclaws was actually in tears and it did not take a genius to guess that she was crying over Goldstein, not Slughorn. He proceeded to the Great Hall where he knew they would all be eating under Green and Black Banners.
After that day McGonagall’s lessons became something like a harsh training in which she taught them every legal spell she knew that could possibly be used as a means of defense. Blaise found his reflexes and his spell-work being tested and they were improving drastically. He wondered what she would think if she knew she was teaching a Death Eater to fight, but then again, she wasn’t stupid enough to still be oblivious to the possibility that many of her students were Death Eaters. She didn’t seem to care. As long as she could help one student to defend themselves or their families she was, apparently, satisfied.
…
The books Ginny had unearthed from Regulus Black’s room were proving to be quite interesting. Blaise had no doubt that the other young Death Eater had gone to a lot of pain to get them and that they would be very useful if he actually planned to do anything important before this war was over. He had to do something, because soon he would be called to another midnight raid on a Muggle town and Blaise wasn’t prepared to do that. Not again.
On a chilly Tuesday afternoon he threw himself wearily into his seat in History of Magic and prepared himself for an hour of alternately dozing off and trying to pay attention when he suddenly remembered Celeste. He pulled out the notebook and hoped she was there. It was s good time for her when she usually liked to read, she would hopefully have her notebook with her.
Celeste? he wrote as Binns began his lecture.
Finally remembered me, Brother dearest? a small shot of warmth made it’s way through Blaise’s chest.
Well there was nothing to talk to you about really, unless you want to hear about classes and how irritating and demanding they’re becoming. And the raids on Pureblood homes, and the Ministry’s Death Eater search at Hogwarts, and- but of course he wasn’t going to mention any of that.
Well your mother’s been down and asked me what I want to do after I graduate, Blaise tried to imagine Celeste’s reaction to this, Apparently she’s moving to France and you’re coming with her whether you like it or not.
Blaise grinned, Mother can be a bit…controlling, he wrote, Wouldn’t you like a bit of a change. He didn’t know if he really had any hope and she took a while answering.
Well, she finally wrote, I’d go anywhere, Blaise, but the Orpahanage and nana and…well there’s a war…
He grimaced. Of course there’s a war and she had others to think about just like he did. Others he most certainly wasn’t going to drag to France with him. But Draco says he’s going to figure everything out, she added at length, he keeps making me promises as if that’ll make it easier, as if that’ll make anything happen and he’s really trying. He keeps talking about Nott. He keeps saying things like he always knew Nott was going to get everyone killed and stuff. But he’s trying. He’s trying to transform himself into an animal or something, as if that’ll solve everything.
Blaise grimaced. He’d better not be performing illegal transformations anywhere near my sister.
Don’t worry, he thinks it’s too embarrassing to let anyone see him half-transformed and he still won’t tell me what he’s trying to turn into. A white Ferret danced across Blaise’s vision for a moment and he suppressed a small grin.
After History of Magic he dragged his feet all the way down to the Greenhouses, hoping that Sprout had chosen the closest of them for this lesson. He wondered how he was going to manage to wrestle whatever rare plant the Professor had brought in this time.
To his utmost relief it was a tame herb this time around and they could actually sit down while they picked and dried them. At the end of the lesson Sprout asked him to stay back for a few seconds and he waited as the others filed out, Longbottom last of all.
“Mr. Zabini, I’d like you to take some of these up to Madam Pomfrey’s for me, but I also wanted to talk to you.” Sprout was examining the jars and flasks and carefully placing the best ones into a small basket he wasn’t sure he wanted to be seen carrying. The only consolation was that it had Pomfrey’s small crest on it so it would be obvious he wasn’t carrying it voluntarily.
“Of course the Spell Invention Course is going to begin soon and you won’t have to attend Herbology next week, but I would like to encourage you not to drop Herbology until you see the Spell Invention thing to the end and have had time to think about whether you want to continue in the last few weeks. I’ve asked McGonagall for your other grades and I see a lot of potential, with the grades you have, in Charms, Potions and the amazing opportunity you’ve been given to prove your worth you have many options in terms of research jobs in the future. But let me be frank, Mr. Zabini, although your Herbology needs some work I see a Healer in you.”
“I’m a Slytherin, Professor.” Blaise said a little sharply, a small knot forming in his lungs.
“I know Mr. Zabini, I know, but this war will not go on forever and you cannot allow such a chance to pass by you, you have great potential and I don’t want you to waste it, especially not on a family business like most young people seem to prefer to do.”
Blaise nodded curtly and picked up his bag and the basket she offered him, but before he left he uttered a small “Thank you Professor.”
Of course both of them were completely delusional if they thought that anyone was going to allow a Slytherin anywhere near them when they were in pain, but a new fondness for his Herbology Professor found its way into his Slytherin Heart nevertheless.
In the Hospital Wing Pomfrey was having a fit and apparently she had reached her breaking point. He interrupted her in the middle of a long angry tirade directed at the littlest Weasley who looked half-proud. Could the girl not appreciate a good thing at least enough to keep herself from causing chaos every lesson?
“Good, Mr. Zabini,” Pomfrey said, apparently deflating when she saw him, “You can give those to me and then go, and you too!” she glared at the youngest Weasley a little and then grabbed the basket a little too forcefully from him.
He did not wait for Weasley, but he knew she was right behind him as he headed down to the Great Hall for Dinner. When they were out of Pomfrey’s Hearing range she spoke:
“We could go to the Great Hall and have Dinner or you could come see what RAB just gave me.”
He changed direction immediately and quickened his pace. “Are you out of your mind, Weasley?” he hissed as he closed the door of the Room of Requirement behind him, “How many times have you snuck out of the Castle these past few days?”
“This is worth it, Zabini, trust me.”
He grabbed the large annotated map she was holding out and scanned it, becoming more and more and more interested with every little annotation he read. It was very similar to his and Weasley’s maps, but Regulus was much firther ahead in the search for clues. He spoke about Horcruxes (on which they had not succeeded in finding out much at all beyond the fact that they were very Dark and that Regulus believed the Dark Lord to have several) and the map was actually annotated with all the possible hiding places for them. Blaise scanned the Map. “Potter’s already been to these three at least, we know that from Granger’s letters, but this is a Gold Mine, Weasley.”
His face spread into a large catlike grin. “What the…Ollivanders?” he began.
“Well, it does make sense,” she said, “And Regulus is sure that Rowena’s Wand will be the most difficult one to find, but he’s narrowed it down to four sites of High Magical Activity. I think he actually snuck into the Ministry of Magic to get some of this information.” There was a hint of admiration in her tone, as if goody Gryffindors dreamed about sneaking illegally into the Ministry of Magic every day. Then again, this wasn’t just a Gryffindor.
“Do you have anything pressing to do on Friday night, Weasley?”
“No.” she said laughing, “And it’s a Hogsmeade Weekend so we have a good two days to finish this. I can pretend I’m sick.”
“Good,” he said, “But bring that time-turner with you anyway.”
