Turning Points

Turning Points: Chapter Four

"ZABINI?" Draco roared, "You're related to Blaise Zabini?"

They were walking the grounds after curfew one day a month before the end of the school year. Neither was any closer to figuring out how to rid the world of Voldemort and time was running out. Hermione kept insisting the final confrontation had to take place before the first week of 7th year or it couldn't take place at all. Draco, for his part, felt he had been incredibly restrained the past few weeks by not mentioning her now obvious relation to one of his closer friends in Slytherin. Lately, however, his nerves had been fried by their lack of success and it all tumbled out on the clear night.

"Apparently," she dully replied.

"How do you know?" he demanded.

"If you must know, his parents came and visited me. It appears that they'd been keeping tabs on me and were all ready to intercept any owl sent to my house to keep me from every getting my acceptance letter and therefore my entrance into Hogwarts. I guess they thought I'd figure it out sooner or later. What they didn't know was that Dumbledore came to my house personally to welcome me into the wizarding world. I guess he had an idea about what was going on and wanted to make sure I'd make it. I was apparently a bloody brilliant witch, even at 11," she said, smiling smugly. "Since their plans were foiled, they introduced themselves to me as my real parents and told me I wasn't to tell a soul and a bit of other rubbish like that. I guess my parentage is the real reason why I wanted Zabini to be my partner. 'Keep it in the family' seems to be the pureblood motto, eh Malfoy?" she snickered.

Draco remained silent for a few minutes, contemplating all that she had told him. If she was telling the truth, then he knew she really was as powerful as she had been suggesting all this time. It would also make sense that she had turned evil, even if it had taken a bit longer than it should have. Instead of telling her to sod off, as was his instinct, Draco merely said, "Prove it. Prove to me that you are a true member of the Zabini clan."

"Must we always play these games, Draco dearest?"

"I'm risking a lot for you Granger. You at least owe me some sort of proof that you are what you say you are."

"Fine, Malfoy, if it'll appease you. Meet me at the Shrieking Shack next Hogsmeade weekend."

"Good. And now, while we're on the topic, the polyjuice idea I had would work splendidly right about now. We have enough time to make it and gather a few supporters..." he trailed off.

"Okay, get to work on it. I'm getting tired of your helpless whining anyway. Honestly, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were a direct descendent of Wormtail," she spat.

Sniffing indignantly, he responded, "How utterly laughable that thought is."

"Not from my side of the fence," she snorted.

"So who do I make them as? Any brilliant ideas yet?"

"As a matter of fact, I already have it all worked out. I'll bring you the hairs when the polyjuice is ready," she smirked.

"Who, then?"

"That, dear Malfoy, is a surprise. Now let's get going. The sun is starting to rise and I, for one, don't want to be caught out of bed this early in the morning. I already get enough slack from McGonagall and Pomfrey about my 'horrid study habits' and how they'll 'drive me to certain insanity someday'."

They slowly walked back to the castle, each comforted in the presence of the other, not knowing that a certain headmaster had witnessed the entire scene from the window of his office.