The Life and Times of a Girl Named Blaise Zabini

Dear Father,
    School has been going well so far. I got 'Outstanding's on my first two Potions exams of the year, and my other classes seem to be doing equally well. Professor Dumbledore says "hello".
    I told you about how Draco and I have made friends with Virginia Weasley, right? Nice girl, silly as you could want when you get her to open up. I’m still determined to get Draco to admit to fancying her before Midwinter Break, but things are looking like I’ll have to take their wands and shove them in a broom cupboard and lock them in to get them to start] "snogging". (I feel so evil! *grins!*) She’s a Tolkien fan, too. What am I, a Tolkienite magnet?!
    In any case, it turns out the delightful Miss Weasley is part elvish, though naturally not nearly as much as a certain ever-so-loveable princess we both know. Father, she saw through the glamour, and I managed to keep her from telling Draco what she saw, but I promised I’d tell them *something* tomorrow night.
    How much can I tell them? I’m worried.
    Your loving daughter,
            Elessario

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daughter,
    Tell them all that you feel comfortable telling them. Trust your instincts; you would not have chosen them as friends if you did not instinctively know you could trust them. That is one of your gifts.
    My love for you is forever,
                Father
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blaise stared at her father’s response in her hand, absent-mindedly re-settling the strap of her sports bra under the sweater she’d worn out jogging that morning. Shifting slightly, ignoring the slight sound of her stretchy exercise pants’ legs brushing against each other, Blaise’s gaze settled on the eastern horizon, noting the faint light that heralded the coming dawn.

Today would be a long day, and she had better get back to her dormitory before other people started waking.

Giving Verde’s green feathers one last stroke, Blaise turned and jogged up the steps and into the school.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Avoiding Draco and Ginny and, more importantly, their questions, had been difficult. Not to mention painful. They were both looking rather confused, and, while Draco looked like a cross between annoyed and hurt by her evasion of both questions and contact, Blaise had noticed Ginny racing for the library every chance she got. Most likely the girl was trying to figure out just what her friend was, but hopefully she would understand the potential threat posed to Blaise should *any* version of her secret get out, whether the truth or something that wasn’t, but was close enough to have her expelled and her wand snapped, by order of the Ministry.

Stupid Ministry and their stupid anti non-human bull cookies...

Grr!

In any case, she’d made it through the day, and all that was left was to wait for her roommates to fall asleep so that she could make her sneaky- sneak way to meet D and Ginny in the Charms corridor. They wouldn’t be doing much in the way of *talking* there, naturally, what with it being all publicly accessible and the like, but it was as good a place as any to meet up so they could get to a far more secure location.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blaise parted the curtains of her bed ever-so-slightly, peeking out at Millicent’s bed.

...

Okay, that threat was a no-go. Yay!

Quietly shutting the curtains again, Blaise crept silently across her unmade bed (for easy cover-up ability! Just tell the professor that you took a quick trip to the loo! Fantasmical! ^_^;) and opened those curtains a crack. Pansy would be the greater threat of her two roommates, after all.

...

Wait, what was that? EEK!!! SHE MOVED!!!

...

No, okay, she was just rolling over.

...?!

Eew...Pansy’s babbling about her dream, indicating she’s having one of her "Kissing Draco" dreams. Ick! Too bad Uncle Dream won’t let her mess with the Pug’s Adventures into Depravity and Wrongness.

Firmly shutting the curtains, Blaise snagged her black sweatshirt and pulled it over the t-shirt and flannel kitty pants she wore as nightclothes, ballet slippers already on her feet to allow minimum noise and maximum foot muscle-powered traction. Having an Elf’s natural grace, speed, agility and non-slipping feet-ness was handy, but better safe than sorry. Besides, Blaise’s father, as well as Dalla and Haldir, had often commented on the fact that she was quite possibly the klutziest Elf in existence.

Blaise blamed magically-induced human-like puberty. It *had* to be a heck of a lot more gradual for Elves! Even if her height hadn’t kicked in yet...

Grr! ELVES ARE SUPPOSED TO BE TALL, DAMNIT!!! WHOEVER HEARD OF AN ALMOST- ADULT ELF THAT’S FIVE-NOTHING?!

Not her, that’s for sure...

Although she was pretty darn tall (comparatively) in Grade School. That didn’t last long, of course, because she was bumped up several grades...

Aaaaaaaaaanyway...

Blaise slunk down to the foot of the bed, which was the side closest to the door, and, after one last look around for safety's sake, slipped through the curtains, securing them closed after her, and lightly made her way to the door, gliding through that. She silently closed the door behind her.

"Mew?"

Blaise’s eyes bugged out as she leapt into the air, a silent scream struggling against her will not to be caught to be given voice to. From her position perched upon the staircase railing leading up into the Slytherin Common Room, Blaise stared blankly at the small, furry figure of Delai as both did their darndest to stop hyperventilating.

"Darn cat," Blaise grumbled as she hopped off of the half-flattened steel pole that had delusions of banisterhood and opened the door to her dorm once again to admit her cat.

At least *somebody* would be able to enjoy the warm comfort of her bed; not that she needed sleep, but Scotland in October could get *cold*!

That dealt with, Blaise continued on her way up the stairs, through the Common Room, twisting and turning expertly through the dungeon corridors, and generally making her way quickly and quietly upwards towards the Charms corridor.

She had not been there long, however, when her magic-disguised elven ears picked up the approaching sounds of Filch, the Janitor/cranky- arse/man-he-should-have-been-a-pirate! (Another of Blaise’s resolutions for things she wanted to get done before she graduated was to get Filch to say "Arr!" Preferably with a parrot on one shoulder. ^-^)

Eek!

And his scary-arse cat, Mrs. Norris!

Double-Eek!!

After scrambling around like some spazzing super-deformed anime character for all of five seconds, Blaise finally let Good Sense in and shook it by its nicely-pressed lapels, knocking its scholarly glasses off of its face in the process. Then she brushed it off, straightened out its coat and hair, resettled its glasses, and listened. Then, after her trip into the abstract was over, she leapt up and latched onto the stone support beam that went down the middle of the corridor, up near the unusually high ceiling and supported in turn by smaller stone beams that branched off and connected to the side walls. In the manner of an accomplished gymnast and martial artist, she quickly pulled herself up on top of the beam, and brought herself up to a ready-to-run-down-the- really-narrow-chunk-of-stone position. This wasn’t difficult, because *she* had taken part of training that was more like something out of Ranma 1/2: tree-hopping (roof-hopping, whatever. Elvish lightness and balance is quite useful for that sort of thing, hence the whole living-in-trees thing the Elves of Lorien have got going there).

Here she hit a bit of a snag.

Her eyes widening in shock, Blaise felt her feet slip forward due to having established her footing on an annoying combination of dust and...*eew!*...dead bugs. Pinwheeling her arms in desperation, she managed to control her fall enough that she went forward, and she caught herself against the wall that had been in front of her, bracing herself against the side of the beam with her ballet- slippered feet.

Keeping her breathing as light and as quiet as she could manage, Blaise watched as both Filch and Mrs. Norris passed underneath her. The whole time Blaise was silently praying in every language she knew (both "modern" Elven languages, Ancient Elvish, modern Greek, ancient Greek, Westron, English, Italian, Spanish, Latin, French, and Japanese) the words "Please don’t look up, please don’t look up..."

Fortunately, neither Filch or Mrs. Norris looked up, though it had been a close call with that cat for a moment... Anyway, now that the immediate danger was gone, there was the little problem of getting down without falling splat on her face.

Gah! Where are nosy friends when you need them?!

Managing to contort her spine in just the right way, Blaise finally was able to get a good look at her watch.

11:30!? 'Pixie-doo,’ Blaise thought to herself in a mixture of annoyance and chagrin. This would teach her to be over half an hour early for appointments...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

12:15

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘...And I thought Daddy’s endurance exercises were bad,’ Blaise agonized to herself as she shifted ever-so-slightly to combat gravity’s desire to work its ways upon her gravity-defying Elf-self. Elf-light or not, forty-five minutes of being frozen in this position while exerting her muscles to keep herself up was doing *murder* to her poor ickle body. Her aches had aches! She had aches in parts of her body she didn’t even know she *had*, as well as some she preferred not to acknowledge.

Finally, she spotted Draco and Ginny sneaking around corners at opposite ends of the corridor. They made their way down to the middle, standing just under her.

"Hey." Draco.

"Hey." Ginny.

"..." Both.

"Where do you suppose B is?" Draco.

"I dunno. Do you think she went back to bed because we were so late?" Ginny.

"No, that’s not like B. She’s probably hiding in one of the suits of armor, planning on scaring us or something." Draco.

"...Well, that’s not very mature." Ginny.

The silence went on for a while, and Blaise was tempted to just tell them to kiss and get it over with.

...

Wait, what *was* keeping her from doing just that?

"Oh, for crying out loud! Would you two shojo manga rejects just snog already?! You two are so emotionally frustrated I wanna rip my damn hair out sometimes!" Blaise hissed down at her friends, glaring with the power of an annoyed, ignored, and in pain person.

...

Yeah, that sounds about right...

Startled, Draco and Ginny jumped a bit and finally looked *up*. Ginny’s jaw fell open, while Draco merely raised an eyebrow.

Doing her best to look cute and pitiful (considering her state of denial about just how cute and pretty she was, Blaise was probably firmly treading the territory of Overkill), the latter of which wasn’t too hard considering how much pain she was in, Blaise pouted her lips, and said, "Help! I’ve fallen and I can’t get down!"

Her glare was rather nasty when both of the non-stuck people in the hallway collapsed against each other, laughing uproariously.

"...Some friends you two are!" Blaise growled down at them. "And hush *up*, darnit! Do you *want* us to get caught out after curfew?!"

Ginny looked up at Blaise, frowned in confusion, and said, "But Malfoy and I are both Prefects. We could’ve just told any professors that caught us that we were patrolling the corridors and...What?"

Draco shook his head, smirking in that ever-so-Draco way he has, and drawled, "My, Weasley, have you always been this devious, or is it merely the continued contact with Slytherins that is distorting your ever-so-noble and heroic Gryffindor attitude?"

Ginny went beet red, then snarked, "Considering the amount of pranks and such that my brothers have hit you with, I would have thought you of all people would have realized that Gryffindors can be as devious as anybody, Malfoy."

"Touché."

"Hel-lo! Some help here would be nice!" Blaise finally snarled, then let out a rather pathetic whimper. "I think I’m slipping...and rock walls aren’t doing much for my hands, here...Owie..."

After some quick thinking, Ginny and Draco managed to levitate Blaise down gently in a joint effort. After curling up into a fetal position and whimpering in pain some more, Blaise finally managed to stand up, and proceeded to shake Draco vehemently for being late.

"...You know, I don’t think Malfoy’s supposed to be turning blue- ish like that, Blaise," Ginny finally interjected, concerned and doing her best not to examine *why* she was concerned.

"...Oops." Blaise finally released her bestest (alive) guy-friend.

*Gasp!* *Thunk!*

Both girls stared down at their male friend, then slowly drew their mutual gaze up to each other. Finally, Blaise allowed her eyes to go particularly wide and cute, and said, "Draco fall down go BOOM!"

After a few more moments of staring at each other, the two burst out in surprisingly quiet laughter, each taking hold of one end of Draco as Blaise led the way off towards the intended destination.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After having made their way successfully to their intended ultimate destination of a classroom whose door only existed on Tuesdays and Thursdays, hence Blaise’s insistence that the trio meet at midnight after Monday, Ginny and Blaise plunked Draco down and woke him back up with a spray of icy-cold water from the Gryffindor’s wand.

"I’M AWAKE, I’M AWAKE!!!" Draco screeched in a very non-dignified manner that would have earned him a disapproving whap upside the head via a silver snake-headed cane if his father were present and not on the run, his only contact with family disapproving letters whenever he heard rumors of Draco acting not in accordance to Lucius’ plan for his son.

It was rather amusing, hence the two girls’ rolling on the floor, laughing their metaphoric butts off. Draco, on the other hand, was not amused by their amusement.

"Grr..."

"Oh hush, D, and I would suggest that you two make yourselves comfortable before I start explaining," Blaise said dismissively, waving off her bestest buddy’s ire even as she gestured to the dust-laden desks that were in the room, perching herself on the edge of the equally dusty teacher’s desk. Draco and Ginny picked some desks for themselves in the front row, and looked expectantly up at their friend.

Blaise smiled nervously at the two, and began.

"My name is Elessario, daughter of Legolas, sister of Dallandra."

She paused, then disengaged her personal glamour, which melted away to reveal herself in all her pajama-clad Elven glory, not that she would have thought herself to be particularly glorious.

"...And I’m not human."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blaise stared blankly after her friends as they headed off to their respective dormitories, seeking the comfort and warmth of their beds.

"That went better than I thought it would," she murmured to herself, absent-mindedly twirling her wand between her fingers with speed and dexterity that would make most martial artists envious. She stopped mid-twirl, however, when she sensed Haldir’s presence.

"Indeed it did." Pause. "Blaise-"

"Elessario," Blaise snapped. "My name’s Elessario. ...Sorry, Haldir. I didn’t mean to take my frustrations out on you, but I have no right to go about using the name of my niece like this. If it weren’t for my stupid, stupid brother-in-law and the equally stupid, stupid laws the Ministry enforces, I wouldn’t have to do this; I wouldn’t have to hide."

She turned suddenly to face his spectral image, confused at the rather odd look on his face before he composed himself once more.

What was that about...?

"As you wish, Lady Elessario," Haldir said, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment of her claim.

Blaise smirked slightly, and made to whap him on the arm playfully. "Silly Elf..." She trailed off, however, when her hand simply passed through him, forcefully reminding her that, not only was he not alive, but he was different from any other ghost she’d ever encountered. Most ghosts were tangible to her, and they weren’t the gray misty things that most living people described them as. They retained their color, though the older ones *did* tend to look a bit faded; Blaise had mentioned this to her mother shortly after they first met (Officially, that is. Blaise had to be reminded of that one nightmare Death had gotten her out of when she was little (see "The Birth of an Immortal" by Rosy the Cat)), and, after Death had finished her little rendition of the Happy Fish on Tuesday Dance, the Endless had informed her that she was seeing a more intact version of the dead person’s self image, and they were tangible to her because, as far as either of them could figure out, that was just something they had in common. Or something like that.

On the plus side, Blaise could pull pranks on ghosts. There was the time she had timed her morning stretching perfectly, and ended up smacking Nearly Headless Nick in the face. On the not-so-plus side, ghosts tended to hang around her more often than most kids, so she had to get rather blunt when she wanted to be alone.

Sighing, Blaise leaned against the wall. "Sorry, Haldir," she muttered, looking sadly away. It rather annoyed her that something like this was beyond her control. She’d partially freed the Elf from his prison on the astral plane, allowing him to return to Earth (Arda, Middle-Earth... Such a lucky planet with so many pretty names!) in a ghostlike form, but every time she tried to break through the bonds that kept him from Valinor and the Hall of Mandos, she got her psychic arse whipped.

Even more troubling than her own feelings of inaptitude were Blaise’s feeling of guilt. Haldir wouldn’t have even known there were people capable of freeing him from his prison as much as she had if she hadn’t been so darn nosy and persistent regarding the astral plane as a potential gateway to Valinor. And she also felt guilty because, deep down inside, she didn’t *want* Haldir to leave for Valinor, and thus leave *her*. There was a part of Blaise that cared far too much for Haldir than was healthy for a marooned half-Elf to care for a long- disembodied Elf...or something.

Finally pushing slightly off the wall to regain balance necessary for walking, Blaise smiled weakly at her friend and said, "Well, I’m off to bed before someone checks and notices I’ve been gone for several hours. Good night, Haldir." Waving absent-mindedly, Blaise set off striding down the hall in the general direction of the Slytherin Common Room, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes, though of course nobody could see them. Haldir looked after her sadly even as he appeared to fade away, back to the astral, and thought to himself, 'Rest well, Elessario my friend.’