Cross Purposes

Cross Purposes

I .
Encounters on the Train

Blaise Zabini arrived early at the station the morning of September 1. He was hoping to find a nice, quiet compartment towards the front of the train in which to secret himself. He reckoned that he just might succeed in having a compartment free of the usual noise and distraction his vulgar and obnoxious classmates. Most of the other Slytherins tended to gravitate to whichever compartment Malfoy was holding court in, and of course, no one from the other houses would willingly sit with a Slytherin. Of course, he might have to scare off any first years that happened to wander his way. But all this trouble was worth it. It was just too early to start dealing with his fellow housemates.

His solitude afforded him another luxury - he could pursue his interests in peace. He reflected on this as he pulled out his new copy of Magical Beasts in History. With his trunk safely stowed overhead, Blaise settled himself into the window seat. As the Hogwarts Express blew its whistle and pulled out of the station, he opened his book. There was certainly no better way to pass the time than by reading one's favorite subject. He had bought the book with his allowance at Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley. Hagrid had mentioned it privately to Blaise after one of his Care of Magical Creatures lessons. Blaise had made a lame excuse to his...friends...about having to make up work in order to have a private discussion with the only person he knew to have the same interests as he did.

"Now, Magical Beasts in History, that's a good one. It'll do y' fine. It's got more meat t' it than y' class book. Pick it up if y' get the chance," Hagrid had said on that spring day. So, Blaise had picked it up at the first chance he had. He trusted Hagrid's judgment when it came to matters of "interestin' creatures."

As Blaise began reading the first chapter, "Griffons, Auguries and Other Magical Birds," the door to his compartment opened. A small horde of First Years poked their heads in. Blaise turned the patented Slytherin Death Stare on them, but to no avail.

"Can we sit here?" a wide-eyed and big-boned boy asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so. Now run along and play," Blaise replied, exasperated, shooing his hands at the rapidly reddening Firstie.

The boy clenched his fists and strode forward into the compartment. "There's no where else we'll all fit. You're the only one in here."

Blaise sighed and then pointed his wand at the little brat. "Do I really look like someone that cares? Get. Out. Or I'll make this a train ride you'll never forget."

The words, and especially the wand, had the desired effect. The group's leader paled and backed out of the compartment. In a last act of defiance, he slammed the compartment door and led the others away. Heaving a sigh of relief, Blaise returned to his reading and soon became engrossed in tales of the powerful, but rare, griffon.

It wasn't long until Blaise was intruded upon yet again. This time, when the compartment doors slid open, they revealed none other than Blaise's least favorite person at Hogwarts. No, no, not Harry Potter, but the pride and joy of Slytherin House, Draco "I'm better than everyone" Malfoy. Blaise quickly thrust his book out of sight and adopted the proper haughty air.

Draco threw himself into the seat opposite Blaise, and yet still managed to look posed. I wonder how long he practices that when he's at home, Blaise wondered. The blonde looked down his pointy nose and peered intently at the boy across from him.

"Blaise."

"Yes, good, and you're Draco. Tomorrow we can work on colors."

"Hmm, don't be a prat. I was looking for you, you know," Draco drawled. "Were you ever planning on joining us? Everyone's talking about the new Head Boy and Girl. Cho Chang, can you believe it? Personally, I think Dumbledore just feels bad, with her boyfriend being murdered by the Golden Boy and all. You should join us. We'll be at the school shortly," he said, flashing his shiny, gold wristwatch.

Blaise, having gotten used to all of Draco's habits over the past five years, and oh, he was so predictable, was well aware that Draco only mentioned the time so that he could show off his new jewelry. In the interest of keeping peace, Blaise decided to play along. "New gift, Draco?"

"Oh what, this? Why yes, it is. How good of you to notice. Mother bought it for me on her tour of the continent. It's quite convenient really. You'll notice the outer band shows the current alignment of the planets," he said, shoving the watch into Blaise's face. "It's really quite useful when casting more...complex spells." Draco smirked as he sat back and covered the watch with the sleeve of his robe.

Blaise had to bit his tongue to keep from laughing in Malfoy's face. Him, cast complex spells? He'd reach his peak with that luck Serpentsortia back in Second Year. Out loud, he said, "Yes, it's lovely. So why were you looking for me? Just to gossip about Chang?"

The smirk disappeared from Draco's face. He never was happy when his fancy toys failed to impress someone. "Not at all. There is something much more important than that." Draco suddenly jumped up from the seat and began to pace the narrow compartment, gesturing wildly with his hands. "It's like this, Zabini. I need your help, see. You know that Potter is the reason that my father is rotting away in Azkaban, although between you and me, he won't be there much longer. I swore to Potter that he would pay for what he did. He and his goons foiled my attempts on the train home. But this year, this year he's mine. He, the Mudblood and the Weasel are all going to pay. It's your duty as a Slytherin to help me. Let's show those Gryffindorks once and for all."

Blaise looked up at the pale boy. His eyes were shining with a mad glint and his lips had pulled back into a tight grimace. The strain of having his father in the wizarding world's idea of hell was getting to him. He had lost weight over the summer and his face had become drawn and, if it were even possible, pointier. Looking at that face, seeing the first hints of madness, Blaise knew that Malfoy wasn't talking about his usual pranks. Draco wanted to really hurt the Gryffindors.

"You're insane. Merlin's beard, Draco, what you're saying is just plain stupid. You can't attack Potter, or any of his little fan club. At best, you'll be expelled and your wand will be broken. At worst, you'll be spending quality time with your father in Azkaban. No, I want no part of it."

Malfoy had sat down, but now stood up in a rage. If before he looked mad, now he looked absolutely psychotic. "If you're not with me, Zabini," he growled, "than you're against me. You and your family have sat on the fence long enough. You're going to have to choose sides soon. There is a war coming, and those watching from the sidelines are going to meet the same end as the Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers."

Blaise looked up at him, unfazed by his tantrum. Malfoy was one for drama. "Sit down, Draco. Listen to yourself, talking about war and choosing sides. What are you on about? I simply think it's a bad idea to go after the darling of the wizarding world. He's protected by Dumbledore, the staff and the Ministry. If you attack him, they'll be on you so fast you won't know up from down."

Draco sat back down, but didn't look much placated. "Do you think I don't know all that? That's why I need you, Blaise. You're so good at planning our little schemes. Remember what we did to the Hufflepuff dorms in fourth year. You planned that and it went off without a hitch. I know that you'll see what I miss." He smiled sweetly at Blaise, the Malfoy charm turned on to full blast.

"Besides, someone needs to get close to Potter, someone I trust. You're the only one he doesn't already hate. Just think about it. It will be good for us, good for all of us. It will be good for the House, Blaise. Besides, you and I don't spend nearly enough time together. We could be great friends, you know. Think of all the advantages that come along with that."

The last thing Blaise wanted to do was risk his neck for the sake of the ferret's revenge. He looked at Malfoy and saw the wary and dangerous look in the boy's eyes. I have to play this right, or this could blow up in my face like one of Longbottom's cauldrons, he thought. "I can't promise anything, Draco. But, I will admit that the Gryffindors have gotten a bit too big for their britches. I'm not going to hurt anyone, but, they do need to learn a lesson. We'll talk about this later, alright?"

Draco stood up and took Blaise's hand in his own. "Gee, Blaise, I knew there was a real Slytherin hiding inside you." He patted the back of his hand condescendingly. "Enjoy the rest of the trip." And with that, he strutted from the compartment.

Blaise sighed and pulled his book out again. He looked down at the cover, and then hurled the book at the still open door. "Damn," he swore. "Why do I always give in to that slimy, little ferret? Damn." He didn't know who he was angrier with - Malfoy, or himself.

"You know, you really shouldn't treat books like that," a female voice intruded. Blaise looked up to see none other than Hermione Granger holding his now battered book. Reaching his breaking point, Blaise strode up to her and grabbed the book out of her hands. "Don't touch my things, Mudblood. You might contaminate them," he sneered, and slammed the compartment door in her face.

"I'm going to kill the next person that interrupts me," he muttered to himself, missing the sound of the compartment door opening.

"Really? Give it your best shot then, Slytherin," a voice behind him replied.

Blaise turned around, and looked straight into the angry green eyes of none other than Harry Bloody Potter. And then Blaise noticed the wand, holly by the looks of it, pointed at his throat. He gulped and came to the realization that Draco deserved a lot more credit than he usually gave him. Draco tried to provoke this in Potter; Blaise had never been more terrified. Potter possessed a certain aura, an air of power and leadership, on a normal day. An enraged Potter, on the other hand, projected the message, "You don't stand a chance."

"Now look, Potter. I wasn't talking to you then. It was just a general comment. It wasn't directed at anyone."

Potter smiled at him, a nasty Slytherin smile, causing Blaise's stomach to do a pirouette. There was no way this was going to go well. None at all.

"Not directed at anyone in particular, huh? How about Mudblood? Was that directed at anyone special, or did you just happen to be randomly spewing insults when my best friend was walking by?"

Potter punctuated his words by jamming the point of his wand into the underside of Blaise's chin. Blaise tilted his head back to try to alleviate some of the pain, but Potter only pressed in harder. The Boy Wonder stepped forward until they were nearly chest to chest. He moved his mouth close to Blaise's ear.

"Zabini, isn't it? I don't know you, and already I don't like you. You Slytherins are all the same. Well, let me tell you something, that witch you insulted is worth ten of you, you lousy little snake," he whispered, the breath from his words tickling the shell of Blaise's ear. "If you insult any of my friends ever again, I will make you regret it. Understand? And you can pass that message on to your little ferret boyfriend as well."

As Potter removed his wand and stepped back, Blaise fought to keep from falling, his knees felt so weak. The power radiating from Potter was almost nauseating, it was so intense. With a last meaningful look, Potter left the compartment. Blaise sank down onto the bench and took a deep, relieved breath. Really, he felt like a good cry. There was use trying to read his book now.

Finally, the train pulled into Hogsmeade station. Blaise made sure to hang back. He wasn't in the mood to have any more encounters. Hell, he'd walk to the castle if it meant he could have some peace. The year was certainly off to a rollicking good start. The First Years feared him, Draco was going to get them all killed, and Potter...Well, he'd certainly gotten Potter's attention now. Draco was not going to be happy.

A slim arm slipped around his waist, startling him out of his reverie. Blaise turned and looked into Draco Malfoy's pale, pointed face. "Coming, Blaise?"

The two set off for the nearest horseless carriage, Draco pushing the younger, smaller students out of the way. As luck would have it, the Golden Trio, accompanied by the useless blob of flesh commonly referred to as Longbottom, had chosen the carriage in front of theirs. Any chances of escaping Potter's notice were immediately lost, as Draco never could keep his mouth shut.

"Oy, Potter."

Potter turned, locking eyes with a startled Blaise before sliding his gaze onto Draco. "What could you possibly want, Malfoy? Going to point out yet again how I have no parents and a great, ugly scar? Or maybe you still want to kill me for getting your poor precious daddy sent to prison? Well, save it. I've heard all your material and I'm not impressed." With a last look at Blaise, Potter climbed into the carriage. Granger and Weasley, who was treating Draco to his own version of a death glare, climbed in after.

Draco wasn't to be dismissed so easily. He stalked up to the carriage window. Blaise tried to grab his arm to stop him, but Draco simply shook him off. "I wasn't done, Scarhead. You think you're so untouchable don't you?"

"Yeah, Malfoy, that's it. Doesn't have anything to do with you being an idiot."

"Ignore him, Harry. He's not worth it."

"Not worth it? Why you stuck-up Mudbl..."

Draco's words were cut off as a freckled arm shot out of the door and grabbed him by the throat. Ron Weasley leaned out and gave a good squeeze, clearly enjoying the colors Draco was turning.

"You really don't want to finish that sentence, Ferret," he threatened.

"Ron!"

Weasley turned to look back at Granger, then nodded and let go. Draco crumpled to the ground coughing, sweat dotting his brow and lip. As his color slowly faded from purple to red, he spat out, "Just you wait. This will be a year none of you will ever forget. You'll all get yours. You'll see."

He stood up slowly and ran a hand through his hair. "Come Blaise, I want to get up the castle and wash the Weasley grime off me."

Blaise climbed into the carriage behind him, praying the rest of year didn't get any worse.