The Story of Blaise Zabini

Chapter 3

My Not so Imaginary World......

The next three weeks flew by, and before I knew it, I was stepping onto the Hogwarts Express, and a new life.

Part of me was excited; I was, after all, going to a school for magic. What could be more exciting than that? But that part of me was buried in immense sadness; I was leaving George and Izzy behind for God knows how long. They said I could come back for the Christmas holidays, but it feels like I'll never see them again.

"We'll see you soon," George said, smiling down at me kindly.

"Goodbye Blaise," sniffed Izzy, with a smile of her own, thought it was considerably more tearful.

"Bye," I said quietly, and I stepped onto the train, waving to them as it pulled out of King's Cross Station.

Soon the grey streets of London were replaced by rolling green hills and the odd rambling stone farmhouse. For someone who had grown up in a polluted city with no scenery, this was breathtaking and wonderfully exhilarating.

I was stood staring out of the window, when the compartment door opened behind me. A girl with golden blonde hair stepped in. Her eyes were a clear shade of blue, like the sky outside and she looked more artificial than a Barbie doll. I loathed her in an instant. She was the kind of person my mother was, and I've had enough of that to last me lifetime.

So I ignored her and turned to the window again. The girl seemed insulted that I was snubbing her.

"You could say hello," she said crossly. "It wouldn't do any harm, you know."

"I know," I said loftily, "but that's not my problem."

The girl blinked. "Well excuse me for trying to be nice," she said in a snobbish voice.

I said nothing, hoping she'd get the point.

She didn't.

"I'm Pansy," she went on, "Pansy Parkinson."

"Blaise Zabini," I said in a vain attempt to get her out of here. When she didn't move, I sighed impatiently and turned away again.

Pansy finally got the message; she stood up and flounced out of the compartment. I was alone; just the way I wanted it. I breathed a sigh of relief and sat down, watching the landscape flash past as the train rushed through it.

At about one 'o' clock, a woman with a trolley piled high with what I could only hope was food, passed by my compartment.

I didn't have any money with me, so I just shook my head as the woman opened the door.

"No thanks," I said to her. "I don't want anything."

"You look like you could do with something to eat," she said kindly, and she handed me a bar of chocolate. "Free of charge," she smiled, her eyes twinkling. Then she bustled away to another compartment.

I stared down at the chocolate. It was wrapped in bright purple paper and on the front was: Honeydukes Best Chocolate.

I had no idea who, or where, Honeydukes was, but the woman with the trolley was right; I did need something to eat. So I tore the wrapper off and bit into the chocolate.

It tasted like heaven itself; it was creamy and rich, and I've never tasted anything so nice.

A few hours later, I decided we must be nearly at Hogwarts, so I pulled on the plain black robes that I got a few weeks earlier. Sure enough, about ten minutes later, the train started to slow to a stop, and a voice echoed through the compartments: "Please leave all your luggage on the train. It will be brought up to the castle later."

I joined the crowd of people coming out of compartments along the train, and stepped out onto the platform outside.

A voice rang out over the heads of people spilling out of the train. I looked up and saw a ... a giant ...I think. Whatever he was, he was huge. And don't mean huge as in wide, I mean tall. Plus there was that little fact of his wild beard and hair that made him look so ferocious. I shivered; it was cold and this guy was too scary to be allowed.

He called for the first years to follow him, but I was damned if I was going to go first. A boy with black hair and glasses greeted this guy like they were old pals; I wondered where he got the nerve from. I, personally, was a little worried for my safety.

We followed him to the shore of a gigantic lake where there were loads of boats waiting.

"No more'n four to a boat!" the scary guy yelled and then we sailed across the lake.

As we rounded a corner, I saw the gigantic silhouette of a castle. Its turrets pointed towards the darkening sky and the windows that were lit up glimmered. It was like the Kensington Manor, only about five times bigger.

I gasped, along with the rest of the first years, and pretty soon, we came to a cave in the cliffs that the school was built on.

I jumped out of the boat and followed the crowd towards a door in the rock face. The giant knocked loudly on the door, and it was opened by a tall woman in square glasses. Her face was stern and her black hair pulled tightly into a bun. She wore emerald-green, sweeping robes that made her look somewhat regal.

"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," the giant said.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," she said imperiously, and we all followed her into a large entrance hall.

The sound of chattering came from behind one of the doors leading from the hall. But Professor McGonagall led us away from it and into a small chamber to the right.

We crowded in, where she explained something to us, but I can't really remember what it was, since I wasn't really listening to her. I mean, come on, she was a teacher. Okay a teacher with a title, but still...

Then, moments after she'd gone, about twenty ghosts glided through the walls of the chamber we were in. I glanced at them, looked away and then my eyes snapped back to the spectacle in front of me. I could hardly believe what I was seeing, I was that shocked.

But eventually they left and Professor McGonagall came back. She led us into the door behind which the babbling voices came from.

I realised this must be kind of like a dining hall; there were four tables full of students and another with people who I could only assume were teachers.

A stool was placed in front of them and on it was a battered hat. Everyone in the hall watched it eagerly. I couldn't imagine why until the next moment.

A hole near the brim of the hat opened like a mouth and ... it began to sing!

I blinked in case I was hallucinating - it happens sometimes - but when I opened them again, it was still singing. I know what you're thinking: "Yeah right, and if you look closely enough, there's a pig flying past the window," but it's true. The hat was really singing.

The next thing I knew, Professor McGonagall was calling out people's names and they were stepping - or stumbling - forward to sit on the stool and put on the hat.

Half way through the Gs, I got bored of listening to the professor and my mind wandered, not that it takes that much. I gazed around me, watching people at the tables. A lot of them looked impatient; probably starving and tired. I hoped there was a feast sometime tonight.

My train of thought was interrupted by a sudden outburst of whispering. I snapped back to the present, and saw that the black-haired, bespectacled boy was trying on the hat. I looked around me, and saw nearly everyone was craning forward in their seats to try and have a look at him. I wondered why; I mean, it wasn't as if the boy was weird looking or extraordinary, he looked pretty normal to me. Except for the lightening bolt shaped scar on his forehead, of course.

Anyway, the hat suddenly shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" and, looking relieved, the boy - I never caught his name - hurried to the table on the far right, to be received by a loudly cheering crowd. He was getting the loudest cheer yet, funnily enough.

Later it was my turn; Professor McGonagall shouted, "Zabini, Blaise," and I stepped forward confidently.

I sat on the stool and put on the musical hat.

The next second, a voice appeared in my ears. After all the weird things that had happened today, I barely even jumped. After all, if I can get onto a hidden platform by walking through a barrier, why can't a hat talk to me?

"Ah," the hat said, "I remember Sorting your father. Nelson Zabini; what a troublemaker that boy was in his day." The hat chuckled, but I gripped the chair when he mentioned my dad's name; I still hadn't forgiven him for leaving me and my mom, and I probably won't.

"I can see you're still angry at him," the hat continued, "but that's a waste of energy, to be honest. Now, let's see ... you're intelligent, oh, and cunning too, though you're not always ready to give people a chance. And there's a desire to make your mark at Hogwarts. Well, well - in that case you'll be best suited in SLYTHERIN!"

I pulled the hat off, and slowly walked over to the table that was cheering. I noticed dimly that I was the last person to be placed in a house, but my mind was occupied by the hat's last words.

A man with a long, silver beard and hair stood up, and gazed around at us all. I knew before he opened his mouth, that he was the Headmaster.

I don't really remember what he said, because I was to busy thinking how hungry I was. Yes, I know I'm ignorant, but school has never held much excitement for me. I would've thought a magical school was a bit different, but I haven't really been here that long, so I don't have an opinion.

All at once, the golden plates around me filled themselves with food. I stared, my jaw dropped, and I stupidly thought, That wasn't here a minute ago.

Not the most enlightening of thoughts, but I don't care. The food looked absolutely scrumptious, and I was starving, so forget the criticism for a minute while I eat.

After, the Headmaster stood up and talked to the school for about five minutes, while my eyelids became heavier and heavier, and I began to feel the exhaustion that comes with travelling all day.

When we went to bed, I sank down on a large four poster, the hangings in silver and emerald green. To be honest, I didn't care about the décor just then; I just pulled on my PJs, and climbed into bed, sinking back into the lovely soft pillows.

The next moment I was dead to the world.