Truth or Dare

Chapter 6: Initiation

"Have a happy Christmas!" shouted Harry and Ron on the train platform. They had come to see her off, but Hermione partially wanted them to be there so they could help her keep Blaise on the train. When Hermione had met her on the platform, Blaise was fidgeting like a five-year-old. Hermione had to Levitate both their trunks to their proper place in the luggage compartment. She lifted Crookshanks' basket and touched Blaise's shoulder. Blaise started.

"Time to go," Hermione said. Blaise glared at her.

"I can't believe you're making me do this," she muttered.

"Look," Hermione snapped, "I no more wanted to be a part of the game than you did. Unfortunately, we both have to pay, don't we?"

Hermione may have been too optimistic, but Blaise's eyes appeared to soften.

"Fine," Blaise snapped, shoving past her, "but that doesn't mean I have to sit with you."

"You're going to be seen with me anyway, if you're coming home with me," Hermione reasoned. "I'm not going to talk to you or anything. I have reading I need to do."

"So do I," said Blaise, her voice continually more mellow. "I'll find a compartment."

Ron interrupted, "You can always say you were assigned as partners in an independent Potions project. No one would be able to dispute that, and your House would sympathize instead of humiliate you."

Hermione and Blaise whirled around and looked at Ron in surprise. Even Harry's mouth was open.

"What?" Ron asked, uncomfortable with everyone looking at him.

"That's a good idea, Weasley," explained Blaise, her eyes wide with unexpected awe.

Ron rolled his eyes. "The train's about to leave," he said, slighted.

Blaise threw up her hands in frustration as she realized the Dare could not be avoided. She stalked away, presumably to locate said compartment.

"Bye, you two," Hermione said. She laughed. "I made this big show of needing you, then I run off back home. I... I just wanted you to know that... I'm very sorry for how I've acted, and I really do love both of you, and... I should go," she concluded meekly. Tears were beginning to well up again. "Madam Pomfrey warned me not to get too excited or upset... so I'd better go."

"If she gives you any trouble, send us an owl and we'll send her a curse," Ron promised.

Hermione giggled through her tears. "Goodbye," she whispered.

"Bye," Harry and Ron replied. "Happy Christmas."

And Hermione boarded the train.

~888~

The train ride was silent and thick like wool. It was both refreshing--in comparison with the constant chatter in both the prefects' compartment and in the compartment Hermione usually shared with Harry and Ron and their other Gryffindor friends--and unsettling. Blaise purposely aided the tension by completely ignoring Hermione's presence. Hermione chose not to press the issue, though she dearly hoped the ice in Blaise's countenance would crack during the holiday.

She had informed her parents of Blaise's arrival, and she gave a vague explanation as to the reason. She also included a lengthy postscript including what she knew to be Blaise's opinion of Muggles. They had sent her an owl back, expressing confusion and slight disconcertion, but they agreed to give Blaise the guest room next to Hermione's.

Her parents' disquiet was shared tenfold by Hermione, assuaged only by the fact Blaise seemed to be the most sensible Slytherin she knew and the knowledge she couldn't use magic over the holidays.

It was only when the train began to slow down that Blaise showed any sign of acknowledgment.

When the train finally screeched to a halt, Blaise said in indifference marred only by a slight quiver, "Can you tell your parents I'll be there after I'm sure all the Slytherins are gone?"

Hermione considered the request. "No," she answered. "Use Ron's idea." Then she left Blaise in the compartment.

"Well, Crookshanks, we're home," she whispered. "You get to be petted and pampered, and you'll get so spoiled, I'll have to wean you off pure cream again."

"Wait, Hermione!" Blaise called behind her. The Slytherin came running up to Hermione. "Is that why you got sick during all those classes? You were resisting the Dare?"

Hermione grinned. "So that's what you were planning to do. Yes, though. It stopped after I... well... I'm thinking about how to do my Dare, and I think it knows it."

"Is that why you pitched a fit?" Blaise asked.

Hermione nodded.

"Draco's having problems, too. He stopped having sex with Pansy. Says he wants to, but he can't focus."

"Serves him right," Hermione said vehemently.

"I agree. It was his idea in the first place. I actually admire Potter for giving him that Dare. Then again, Draco's Dare for you hit pretty close, too. For a Dare, it was perfect."

Hermione reddened in anger, but managed to calm down in exactly thirty two breaths. She knew Blaise was a fairly indifferent person in character. Hermione was actually surprised she had seen Blaise vulnerable when it came to spending time with Muggles.

"In fact, an objective observer might find Draco's Dare worse than yours. You get to remain within the boundaries of nature. Draco has to do something far more taboo...."

"But I'm not an objective observer, Blaise," interrupted Hermione. "Now would you keep it down. There are still people here and we're almost to the barrier."

Together they earned some questioning stares, but for the best part they ignored them. Blaise was a little disdainful as she passed through the barrier and beheld the Muggle artifacts and families around her.

"Mum, Dad," Hermione said warily to a rather trim couple standing to the side, "this is Blaise Zabini."

"Why, hello, Miss Zabini," said Mr. Granger courteously. He extended his hand.

Blaise took it and shook it firmly. When she withdrew, she looked at her palm, as if expecting it to be covered in some sort of slime. She glanced around nervously.

Mrs. Granger immediately noticed Blaise's discomfort and diplomatically led them all to their van. It took a bit of work to lift the trunks into the back of the van--Hermione could tell Blaise was itching to use magic in this sudden transition--but they lived through it. In the end, Blaise and Hermione were sitting in the middle section, as unsettlingly silent as they had been on the train.

"So tell me, Blaise," Mrs. Granger said in way of conversation, "what House are you in?"

"Slytherin," answered Blaise sullenly.

"What is it known for?"

"Ambition."

Which pretty much killed conversation.

But then Blaise asked, "Do Muggles always travel this slowly?"

Mrs. Granger grinned sheepishly. "I'm afraid so. We're aware wizards have quicker methods of transportation, but we're a bit stuck in the restraints of natural resources. We're sorry about the inconvenience. Then again, because your transportation doesn't allow for much actual travel, I'll bet you've never seen what's in-between. Try and take to time to look around. You might get a better idea about what Muggles are about."

So instead of looking at the chair in front of her, she looked out the window. Hermione hid a smile as Blaise became engrossed in all the public nuances of Muggle life. She laughed aloud when she saw such oddities as the cell phone, stop lights, gray smoke coming out of chimneys, and crutches. Then Mr. and Mrs. Granger would laugh when she would ask what they were and why they used it.

When they arrived at Hermione's home, Blaise got out of the van and looked at it for a long time. It was a modest two-story with an attic, Tudor with white trim like the rest of the houses on the street. The only thing that distinguished their house from the others were the colors of the drapes. On the first floor, a pale avocado green; second floor, a subtle blue. The sun was already mostly below the horizon, and the street light glow threw sharp shadow on the angles of the house.

Blaise nodded silently and went to the back of the van to help Mr. Granger with her trunk.

"So what's the verdict?" Hermione asked curiously.

Blaise rolled her eyes and said, "It looks like someone's home. In fact, it looks like yours. What were you expecting?"

Hermione shrugged but smiled just the same.

"I hope you don't mind we're just having leftover stew, but it's a nice thick one, and it ought to do you good after such a long trip. Here, let me show you to your room. But first..." she fumbled through her purse until she grabbed something. "Aha!"

She held up a set of keys.

"They always seem to get lost in here."

"Maybe they're Muggle-baited," Blaise suggested.

Hermione laughed. "I doubt it. If you've seen the inside of Mum's purse, you'd understand why she keeps losing them."

Mrs. Granger let them in and turned on all the lights, then led the girls upstairs.

"This is Hermione's room... you share a bathroom... and here's yours, Blaise."

It was a rather neat room, most definitely a guest room. The comforter of the high bed was a colorful red and green plaid with a background of soft yellow. The bed faced intricate light-colored wooden cabinetry that opened for a television and VCR.

"The closet's over there, and we thought you'd like the TV. You won't get a good idea about Muggle reality, but you'll at least see pop culture."

Blaise nodded politely, but she eyed the entertainment system warily.

"Well, I'll leave you girls to unpack," said Mrs. Granger brightly, and she left.

"Talk to me, Hermione," muttered Blaise quickly, "and you'll get a fist in the mouth."

Hermione escaped while she could.

Dinner was a tense affair. Blaise said the food was great, and she answered all of Mr. and Mrs. Granger's courteous questions. She cheered up a bit after the coffee ice cream, but then she asked if she could go to bed, she was tired. Of course the Grangers excused her. When she left, Mrs. Granger turned to Hermione.

"Blaise seems like a very nice girl, but it also seems like she's straining to be so. Are you sure this was a good idea, dear?"

Hermione shook her head no. "But she had no choice, Mum, she agreed to do it. She swore."

"I just hope you know what you're getting into," Mr. Granger warned.

"Hermione!" Blaise called from upstairs.

Hermione rushed up. Blaise was wrapped in a bath towel and nothing else.

"How does your shower work?" Blaise asked helplessly.

Hermione's face twisted in confusion. "How does yours work?"

"I walk in, and it turns on by itself. I have my hair and body potions, but the water won't turn on."

Hermione explained patiently, "It starts just as if you were taking a bath. You push in this knob here, and the water comes out of the shower spout. You control the heat here."

Blaise looked extremely embarrassed. "Thank you."

"And don't worry," Hermione assured her. "Even after spending time in Hogwarts, the first time I was at a wizard's house, I didn't know how things worked either. You'll get used to it."

"I don't want to get used to it," Blaise snapped, and again, Hermione decided to drop the subject.

Later that night, Hermione could not sleep because the television next door was blaring too loudly. With a weary sigh, Hermione slid her feet into her slippers, wrapped herself in her quilt, and padded over to Blaise's room.

She knocked on Blaise's door.

"Come in," Blaise said. Hermione opened the door and walked to the bed. Blaise was lying on her stomach facing the television.

"Is this how they view us?" Blaise inquired, gesturing to the TV movie playing in front of her. Hermione watched a bit before she realized it was The Witches.

"No," said Hermione, "believe me, that's only one guess on what magical people are. Flip around a bit more, and you'll see benign, nasty, beautiful, ugly, downright good, or downright evil witches... and that's not even including the clothing and time periods. Muggles don't know what we are, but it's sure fun to see what they come up with."

"Yeah," Blaise agreed softly. Then she said, "Look, I'm sorry I've been such a bitch; I know my Dare isn't half as bad as the others, and I'm sure you could have done worse. Your parents remind me of something between Professor Sprout and Professor McGonagall... not in bad way."

Hermione smiled. "Well, don't get my mother started on dental hygiene, or you'll see a female Snape. Both my parents are dentists, but Mum's really... er... passionate about it. So when she asks you whether you've brushed your teeth, you say either 'yes' or 'no, but I'm going to right now.' "

Blaise laughed.

"You know," said Hermione, "you're not like the other Slytherins."

"Oh, there are plenty of Slytherins like me. It's just your luck you were tangled with the Gryffindor mascot and got the attention of Malfoy. I mean, we're still snakes, but we are decent enough, I think." She was silent for a little while. Then, "You want to watch with me?" she offered.

Hermione pointed to the luminous numerals on the alarm clock. "It's nearly two in the morning."

"And you need to get up early or something? It's holiday, for Io's sake."

Hermione shrugged sheepishly. "All right."

Blaise was still a bit cautious with her in conversation, but she seemed determined to pretend it was not a Dare that had brought her there. And that was fine with Hermione.

After all, it was a start.