Hogwarts Security
Blaise did not want to think about his meeting with Voldemort and the demanding, threatening voice of his snakelike “master”. He didn’t want to think about how he was going to give Voldemort any information when he had neither the will nor the information itself. The only good thing about this stupid Adamson fiasco was that Voldemort had chosen the moment when Blaise was most worried about being suspected because of his absences from school to try and enter his mind. Before he dismissed Blaise the Dark Lord had let him know that he would not be contacted unless something very important concerning him was discovered and that Blaise should also not contact any Death Eaters unless he had information to pass on.
He sunk into his comfortable bed and suddenly remembered the other letter he had received, the one from the Weasel girl. Any chance to take his mind off of tonight’s meeting for a while was a welcome one so Blaise fished around for the letter and began to read:
Dear…whoever the bloody hell you are,
I think I’m onto something. I’ve just got a couple of letters from them and for a genius Hermione really didn’t do that good a job at hiding information. I think, with the help of someone who’s good at Herbology, I might be able to figure out where they are (or were when they sent the letter) and that might lead somewhere. The letter also just reminded me of something I overheard but didn’t think was important at the time. I will not, however, put any of the important things I figure out onto paper let alone share it with someone I don’t even know. You could be bloody Snape for all I know. So you’d better figure out if this is important enough to you to stop hiding behind the letters.
Ginny
Blaise re-read the letter and then tossed it into the air and sent a flame its way with his wand. The whole purpose of the letter, it seemed, was to arouse his curiosity and bring him into the open. He understood her hesitation to write important things on paper, especially with her past, but he thought the Weasel girl was bolder and more confident in her ability to take care of herself now. Perhaps some things just didn’t go away. The strongest of people could be reduced to whimpering idiots by the silliest of things, he’d realized that the day they’d studied Boggarts. Even when someone knew it was an illusion they could go into hysterics.
He eased his shoes off and then his socks and buried his tired feet under the warm blankets, not bothering to change the rest of his mud-spattered clothes. His last waking thought, as he willed himself not to dream about his encounter with The Dark Lord, was that little Ginny Weasley would have to actually come up with something very interesting before he dropped his cover and he was sure he’d notice if she found something out, Gryffindors always wore their souls on their sleeves.
The next day at breakfast he saw some Ravenclaws sporting Quidditch gear with their brooms propped up beside them as they ate. The bloody game would probably be the end of him, he thought as he looked up at the snowy sky. If the players were this enthusiastic about the bloody game how was he supposed to compete? And if he royally messed this up then McGonagall (among others) would know that he was trying to hide something, he had made the mistake of boasting in his previous meeting with her in order to change the subject and make her stop thinking of him as a dangerous student.
He decided to follow them outside as soon as he’d finished his breakfast and spend a precious few hours of his weekend watching them in hopes of getting a little more accustomed to the game. Blaise summoned his History of Magic text and a warm cloak and waited for them by the entrance hall.
“You going to go home crying to your Muggle parents?” the harsh question was accompanied by peals of laughter.
Blaise turned to the source of the noise to see two sixth year Slytherins and a Seventh Year Ravenclaw towering over a small Hufflepuff who seemed to be a fourth year at most. The poor boy was trying to hold his ground since it was painfully obvious he wouldn’t be able to outrun the boys, but he was shaking like a leaf in October. Blaise scanned the hallway and realized that there was no one else around this hall this early in the morning. He whipped out his wand and cast a quick stupefy on one of the bigger boys while striding closer quickly.
The Hufflepuff boy had the sense to run, but now one of the other boys was sending hexes in Blaise’s direction. He dodged a couple of them quickly and then turned on the attacker with a quick Expelliarmus that sent his wand flying toward Blaise. He felt more than saw the fist zooming towards his head and ducked, sending his own fist crashing into the other boy’s chest.
“That is enough!” McGonagall’s authoritative voice cut through their fight.
Blaise straightened up and tucked the wand into his pocket before catching the book and cloak that were now zooming towards his head. The Hufflepuff boy was staring wide-eyed from a safe distance.
“Ten points to Slytherin, Mr. Zabini, and you three, run along to my office immediately!”
Blaise watched them walk off as he adjusted his cloak. Of course he had acted on impulse but this would definitely be good for his image in McGonagall’s eyes. He walked outside, sucking in a deep breath at the shock of the cold.
Deciding that none of the Ravenclaws would see him in this snowy weather he walked straight to the pitch and sat himself down in the best seats(usually reserved for professors and visitors) to watch. He cast a quick warming charm on himself and opened the History of Magic book to do some revision whenever they stopped for a break.
“You can’t learn Quidditch by observation,” a voice broke his concentration five minutes later, “Trust me, I’ve tried.”
Blaise stared at the Weasley girl wondering whether she really had found him out. He thought he was doing well at this spying thing, but if even a sixth year Gryffindor could see through it then he had to do some serious re-consideration.
“You need to actually practice, get a feel for it.”
“What makes you think I need practice, Weasley?”
“I know you need practice because I saw you during your try-outs.”
Blaise set his jaw and angrily slammed his book shut. Maybe if he acted like Malfoy and threw a couple of fits she would bloody leave him alone. “Bugger off, Gryff, I’m busy here!”
“I could teach you.”
Blaise was very well aware of his eyebrows shooting into his hairline in the silence that followed. He stared incredulously at the girl before replying with a scoff. “Pardon me for underestimating the generosity of Gryffindor house, but why would you even think of doing such a stupid thing?”
“Simple,” she returned his gaze without flinching or turning away, “Teach me how to fight.”
“Excuse me?”
“Teach me how to fight, Zabini, I saw you in that hallway and I realized that I need to brush up on my dueling skills.”
“Why don’t you ask one of your heroic brothers then?” she wasn’t looking at him anymore, but Blaise was studying her every move carefully. This was interesting.
“In case you hadn’t noticed my heroic brothers are out there doing heroic things while I’m stuck in this bloody castle learning to be a healer.”
She said healer as if it was an insult or something. “What’s wrong with-”
“Arrrgh,” she cut him off, “Bloody nothing is wrong with it, just think about it, alright?”
She left before he could make a witty or cutting reply which was a relief for Blaise since he didn’t have one. It was a very interesting conversation indeed and much as he wanted to deny it he couldn’t help turning the idea over and over in his head all day. By the time he was eating dinner he had already wasted hours considering the prospect. He needed to learn Quidditch and he was very interested in finding out what the girl was up to, she must have known that when she made the offer, but it was stupid to even consider it, really.
He made up his mind that he wasn’t going to stoop to falling for such a stupid trick (because she was obviously trying to pull something or get some information out of him) but as he was headed out of the Great Hall he passed Neville Longbottom and a Ravenclaw girl he knew by sight but couldn’t name.
“Isn’t it great?” Neville was saying, “We’re going to be going over some rare roots next week, and I heard they’re bringing in something really interesting.”
“I’ll bet it’s that…”
Blaise turned abruptly, his mind seething. Why did everyone else have to enjoy these stupid career classes so much that they talked about them on the bloody weekends while he was stuck preparing to work in a bloody office with Goblins all day? He let his feet carry him up to the Hospital wing and walked in through the open door.
He wasn’t sure if he was surprised or not to find Ginny shelving potions at one of the cupboards. He walked over slowly taking in the calm atmosphere of the place. He’d probably have to get used to this place soon since he would be a regular there as soon as Quidditch season started.
“There was no one in that hallway, Weasley,” he spoke quietly even though there seemed to be no patients and no sign of Madam Pomfrey, “And I thought you hated Healing.”
“Chalemeleon Charm,” she replied without looking his way, “I cast it when I heard those three talking because they were bloody suspicious and then they followed the boy and then you took care of the situation before I could do anything. And yes, I do hate it, but I go out flying on Saturdays and Wednesdays and make up the Wednesday classes on Sunday, so trust me, this is not extra time.”
“I’ve never seen you flying on Wednesdays or Saturdays and I spend a bit of time outside.”
“No, you wouldn’t have because I have a special spot to practice without being seen, so you also don’t have to worry about stooping so low as to be seen actually practicing. Though to be honest,” she turned on him with a wry smile, “I wouldn’t want to be seen practicing either if I was that bad.”
Blaise clenched his teeth to control his rage and continued to watch her in silence as she shelved and labeled more potions. She sniffed at one unlabelled vial and then scratched the name onto a small label and stuck it on.
“Your training lessons are on Tuesdays during lunch hour and Sunday nights, Weasley, but you need to find a suitable room to practice in.”
“Seventh Floor, by the Portrait of Barnabas the Barmy.”
“Fine.”
…
When he told her to try and hit him with a hex that she thought would incapacitate him temporarily (a very important tactic in dueling) he hadn’t actually expected her to know any good ones. He lifted his hands to his face, dropping his wand at his side, and started batting the creatures away, suppressing the screams before they actually made their way out of his throat.
The spell suddenly lifted and he opened his eyes to find her standing over him with a smug smile. “I know my spells, Zabini,” he stood up and was ashamed of the small shudder that shook his body, “I need to be able to use them properly in a fight.”
“I see,” well that made his job just a little easier, theoretically…he wasn’t entirely sure he was going to enjoy this if she had more of that sort of thing up her sleeve. “Let’s get to it, then, Weasel.”
Blaise sent a hex at her before he finished his sentence. If she wanted fighting then she would get real fighting, and now he had no reservations about sending hexes her way, this wasn’t some simpering damsel in distress.
She was, indeed, very powerful and she knew a useful spell or two, but he could see her weakness only two minutes in to the duel. Blaise sent another tickling charm at her and then moved behind a pillar. This room really was quite useful. He wondered if he could keep her on her feet for an hour without using more than three different spells.
She managed to set up a good protective spell when he sent his first Petrificus Totalus and then he got her with another tickling charm and a stunner, avoiding the disarming spell she sent his way.
“I see what you mean, now, Weasley,” he said lifting the spell and watching her get up, “You really need to be much quicker and you need to learn to use the tamer hexes to your benefit. The bats are quite effective…when they reach their target.”
“Like you’ve been using anything other than the blasted tickling charm for the last half hour! Expelliarmus!”
Blaise ducked quickly and sent a stinging hex at her before replying: “That’s only because I know I can get away with-”
He did not have time to finish his sentence or find cover before he was hit with a very painful hex that made his vision completely black out for a few seconds. When he opened his eyes the girl was still glaring at him with a murderous look. It was quite frightening, and it was not at all dampened by the twitching that he knew was the result of his well-aimed stinging hex.
He quickly through up a shield charm and stumbled to cover to regain his breath. Apparently, you did not want to get the youngest Weasely angry, because it resulted in much worse things than her brother’s characteristic screaming. She couldn’t always count on the sheer strength of her spells, though and she couldn’t count on all her enemies taking the time to goad her.
He shot out from behind the pillar, wand raised, to a steady stream of swearing that made him want to cringe. “It’s bloody class time in ten minutes and I need something to eat before I go to Binns’ lecture or I’ll fall asleep for sure.”
He nodded although she had already attacked the small table with the food she’d brought from the Great Hall. That was another thing, what did she think she was on about bringing food into a room where she knew she was going to duel. If it was a real fight, the plate would have been shattered on the floor before five minutes were up.
He took a sandwich anyway and watched her pick up her bag and hurry out the door. “Thanks, Zabini, I’ll see you in here tomorrow right when those blasted career classes start.”
Well, Blaise thought, at least someone was enjoying those classes as much as he was. He would be more than happy to skip his, but he needed to come up with a good excuse and they would have to arrange another time for next week so that no one found the both of them skipping classes at the same time suspicious.
…
The one bad thing about having rooms in the Dungeons was that it didn’t give you much of a chance to see what was going on around the Castle at night, unless you were willing to risk getting caught out after hours, and Blaise was not. This is why he only noticed them for the first time during his first flying lesson with the Weasley girl.
He had just landed after what seemed like hours of flying and propped his broom up against the wall. He was sure it was well past curfew but the Gryffindor was still flying around as if she’d only just got up in the air and he didn’t want to admit how tired it was to that tiny little thing. He’d just pretend he was…looking at something in the Forbidden Forest and then get back up in the air when his breathing had returned to normal. Looking down through one of the gaps in the school roof Blaise felt slightly nauseous, but a glimpse of movement near the gates below soon distracted him from that. He watched the spot intently and finally had the sense to conjure a telescope similar to the ones used in Astronomy.
It looked slightly battered and much less impressive than the ones they used in class, but it worked just as well. It took Blaise a while to find the spot again since distances had just become skewed with the lens but he could soon make out two figures who were pacing beside the gates, occasionally stopping to talk.
“What’s wrong, Zabini, tired?” Gryffindors really were petty, he thought, if she had come down here just to gloat about that. It didn’t really bother him now, because he had the perfect excuse to avoid admitting he was tired.
“No, Weasel, I’m looking at them,” he said a little irritably, one of them looked familiar, “That wom-girl looks familiar.”
“Oh that’s probably Tonks, then,” she swiped at his telescope, but he wasn’t ready to give it up just yet, “You’ll have seen her patrolling Hosmeade last year sometime, they’re Aurors guarding the school, they’ve been there since September, you haven’t noticed them before?”
“You don’t get to see much from the dungeons,” he replied honestly, finally relinquishing his telescope, “And why don’t you conjure your own!”
“I’m still a sixth year Zabini, we haven’t done conjuring yet.”
Blaise pondered this for a moment. It was true that they’d only just begun to learn it in classes, but he found it very useful and he knew it could get a person out of a tight spot if they were quick thinking. “That’s your homework, then.”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s your homework for our next meeting; read up on it and try a couple of simple things, it’s essential for you to know how to fight.”
“Essential? How long have you been able to conjure anything, Zabini? Because I doubt it’s been more than a week since you’ve been able to do it yourself.”
“How’d you find your way up here anyway?” he asked, completely ignoring her question, “I’m pretty sure the roof’s out of bounds. Potter and the trio bring you along for late-night adventures?”
“Please, Zabini, you think those three take anyone on their little adventures? Neville and Luna and I didn’t give them a choice that day at the Ministry, I don’t need anyone else to show me around this place.”
Blaise wondered for a moment how much of the publicity about that Ministry incident was true. Draco had been understandably tight-lipped whenever anyone tried to ask him about it that year and he didn’t really trust the Daily Prophet.
“My older brother Charlie picked up a dragon Hagrid was trying to breed from here. It was in Ron’s first year, he came home boasting about it that summer. And then there are the twins, I grew up with them, you know, you get a sort of thirst for exploring and they’ve old me about loads of secret passages in here.”
“So Draco was right about the Dragon,” Blaise smiled, “Most of us just thought it was a story he told to get Potter in trouble and he didn’t really press otherwise after no Dragon was found.”
Suddenly, Blaise remembered the guards down below, “Do you know this Tonks very well?”
The girl turned on his with narrowed eyes. “Why?” she said simply.
Blaise was, of course, ready for this, “If I practiced on the actual Quidditch pitch some nights, with the hoops and everything, do you think she’d mistake me for you and not tell.”
“I wouldn’t go near the pitch after hours if I were you, Zabini, or if I were anyone really, Hagrid will see you and he can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.”
“I guess I’ll wait for our next lesson, then,” he tried to sound disappointed but his mind was now on getting closer to those Aurors to see if he could find out anything more interesting from them. “Don’t forget the conjuring homework, Weasley.”
