The Story of Blaise Zabini

Chapter 18

Why My Father Had to Leave

Before long, Nelson had made himself very comfortable at Kensington Manor. Only me and my grandma seemed bothered by his sudden presence at breakfast, lunch, dinner, and around the fire in the living room during the evening, when George, Izzy, my grandma and I shared stories. Nelson, of course, regaled us with the most suspenseful, detailed and thrilling tales he knew. He'd been living in South Africa for fifteen years, and his peaceful life had been shattered by local wizards and creatures trying to force him out. According to him, anyway. Personally, I think it's a load of bullshit.

I see what my grandma meant about George and Izzy being 'enamoured' with Nelson; they can barely say two words without mentioning his name. It's sickening really, and if they keep on doing it I'm shutting myself in my room and not coming out until the end of the holidays.

One night, at dinner, George and Izzy were laughing at some joke Nelson had just told them. My grandma didn't find it very funny, and nor did I, but we each gave a thin smile and carried on eating.

"God, I remember the time I was shoved in a pit with an Acromantula," Nelson said nostalgically, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "Bloody thing was about sixteen feet tall, and had pincers as sharp as a needle. Its shell was like diamond; took me a couple of attempts before I even scratched it. So obviously, I couldn't attack it on the back, and then I remembered studying them at school, and it came to me; go for the belly!" Nelson grinned widely, "So what then, I wondered. Well, I sliced it open, didn't I? Used a Severing Charm; worked like one too. Never thought the locals would be so vicious, did I? And they all stood on the side and watched me fighting this giant bloody spider. Watched like it was the most interesting thing they'd ever seen." He shivered, "Never forget the looks on their faces."

There was a silence. George and Izzy - predictably - looked horrified and admiring. My grandma watched Nelson carefully. I went right on eating the steak we were having for dinner. The silence continued and eventually, I decided to show Nelson that he wasn't so brave after all, fighting a giant spider. So what?

"Some people at Hogwarts did that," I said calmly, cutting off another chunk of steak and popping it in my mouth, chewing it slowly.

"Did what?" Nelson asked, astonished that I'd actually addressed him directly.

"Fought an Acromantula. The Triwizard Tournament, in my fourth year."

"Oh, I heard about that, of course," Nelson said dismissively. "Couldn't believe it myself when I heard they were continuing with it. The Tournament's a dangerous thing." He took a drink of wine and watched me carefully.

"You'll know the people who entered were only eighteen then," I said pleasantly. "How old did you say you were when you fought with that spider? Oh, actually, Harry Potter was only fourteen, so I suppose that doesn't make your story too incredible really."

Nelson flushed darkly. He scowled at his plate then took a deep breath and forced his face into a painful smile.

"Harry Potter is an extraordinary boy," he said. "And so were the other three. Viktor Krum! When I heard that, I thought, Hogwarts it going to get some serious publicity this year!"

"Yeah well, we can't all go around kissing Potter's ass," I said sweetly.

He stared at me, taken aback; I looked straight back without blinking. Nelson dropped his gaze first, just like I'd expected him to. He is so predictable, it's pathetic.

"Blaise, why can't you just accept that I'm back?" he asked suddenly. The table fell quiet. Even I was startled. "You can't still hate me for leaving Sarah."

I'm sorry, what did he just say? I couldn't hate him for leaving me and my mom? Well, unfortunately for him, he doesn't get to decide that.

"Yes, I do," I spat. "You were my father. You were supposed to stay with me and mom. You were supposed to be there. And you weren't. So, I'm afraid I can't accept the fact that you're trying to worm your way back into my life."

A long, long silence followed. Nelson sent my grandma a furtive glare, as though this was all her fault, and George and Izzy glanced at each other uncomfortably. I, however, met Nelson's gaze with contempt, and managed an amiable smirk. It was as if I was venting my frustration at Nelson to disguise the fact that my life at Hogwarts is currently in a mess.

That night, I went straight to my room after dinner was over and done with. There seemed little point in staying downstairs, listening to more scarcely credible tales of outstanding courage from Nelson, and listening to George and Izzy gasp and laugh with admiration for his acts of bravery. Nelson and I only seem to spark off each other and arguing with him is barely worth my time, never mind the effort.

So I spent the rest of the holidays upstairs in my room, avoiding everyone and writing letters to Draco, yet never actually sending one off to him. It seems pointless to make pathetic small talk when I want say so much more. So instead, I wrote a few letters to Lydia, telling her the sudden developments on the father front, resisting the urge to tell her everything about Jeff and Pansy, and just generally venting off on her.

It wasn't until the last week of the holidays that I actually spent longer than a few minutes downstairs with George, Izzy, my grandma and Nelson.

It had been a particularly hot day, and the evening was humid and muggy, with a hint of thunder in the stale air. George and Izzy had decided to have dinner outside on the gazebo-type platform, and since it really was too stifling inside, we all agreed.

We were halfway through a nice, light salad when Izzy asked me curiously how things were going with Draco. I didn't really want to answer with Nelson there, but I figured it would be rude not to answer the question, especially when Izzy was being so nice in the first place.

"Well, we had a bit of an argument before the holidays," I admitted, "but I think we're okay for now."

George, Izzy and my grandma all smiled in this nostalgic, dreamy way, and I flushed, knowing exactly what they were thinking. Nelson, however, sat up sharply.

"Who's this Draco?" he asked rudely.

"Not that it's any of your business," I said loftily, "but he's my boyfriend."

"Do I know his family?" Nelson questioned further.

"Probably; he's a Malfoy."

His eyes darkened and he frowned. I raised my eyebrows at the reaction, but when I began to say something, he cut in brusquely.

"My daughter is not dating a Malfoy! I thought you two knew better!" he suddenly shot at George and Izzy. "You know what the Malfoys are like, for Merlin's sake! Why didn't you stop her?"

They gaped at him wordlessly, wondering, as was I, where the foul part of Nelson's personality had risen from. Obviously it had always been there, just bubbling beneath the surface.

"Nelson, we didn't feel it was our place to tell Blaise who to go out with," Izzy said, astonished. "She knows what she's doing, I'm sure."

"That's not the point!" Nelson said, slamming his hand down on the table, making the glasses and cutlery rattle. "He could've killed her by now, and Merlin knows a Malfoy would kill anyone given half the chance!"

"Now really, Nelson," George cut in sharply. "I really don't think -"

"George, who knows Lucius Malfoy better than anyone in this room?" Nelson broke in. George's silence was enough to confirm who did indeed know Draco's father best.

"Exactly," Nelson went on. "So I think I'd know a little more than you do about the Malfoys."

It was the first time he'd openly disagreed with George and Izzy, and the first time he'd lost his temper since his arrival. Nelson was certainly ruining their image of him right before their very eyes. I smiled and watched him dig a deeper hole for himself.

"I didn't realise you knew him so well," Izzy said quietly. "Lucius Malfoy is not someone I thought you'd be involved with."

"I was never involved, Izzy," Nelson snapped. "But you know about the time I -" He cut short suddenly, and gave me and my grandma a furtive glance. It seems Nelson Zabini has got a few secrets I'd like to know. Interesting.

"Blaise, would you please go and get the dessert?" Izzy asked suddenly. I opened my mouth to protest, but she looked at me pointedly. "Now, please?"

I scowled and got up from my chair, resisting the temptation to kick it aside, and went back into the house. The low murmur of conversation started up as soon as I'd gone, and I felt a stab of anger that they'd decided to keep something from me. So, instead of going into the kitchen, I tiptoed back to the door, pushed it open slightly, and listened to what they were saying.

"... and Lucius was there. He was trying to gather up recruits for the Dark Lord; you know, the impressionable ones. The ones without much to lose." Nelson paused, and I assumed he'd taken another sip of wine. "I stood at the back, watching everything going on. I saw Lucius talking to this kid, just barely out of Hogwarts, and I figured it was enough. Malfoy saw me coming, and he gave me this smirk, like he was trying to goad me into a fight, or something."

"You didn't actually get into a brawl with him, did you?" That was Izzy; her voice was hushed and I could tell Nelson had her hooked on his story.

"No, no; nothing like that. But he did turn back to the kid he was talking to, and he said 'Look, I know your parents, boy, and I know that any son of theirs must be a great wizard. Come along to the next meeting, and we'll show the power you'll have as a Death Eater, yes?'

"Well," Nelson went on, "the kid looked scared out of his wits, but you could tell he wanted the power Lucius had promised him, and he nodded, and told Lucius he'd be there."

"And what about you?" George's voice sounded irritated. He was annoyed at Nelson for what he'd said earlier, but he was curious about what he had to say too.

"I'd heard what Malfoy had said, and when he turned back to me, he said 'Well, Zabini, it's time for you to choose now. Which side will you pick?'"

There was a long silence and I strained to hear what was said next.

"And which side did you pick, Nelson?" To my surprise, my grandma had voiced the question that everyone wanted to know the answer to.

"To my shame," Nelson replied hoarsely, "I was taken in by Malfoy's words. You see, at Hogwarts, I'd never been a particularly good student. I wasn't interested in school, you see, so I just coasted through, doing enough work to pass, but no more. So when Lucius talked of power, I admit it, I was hooked." Even from inside the house, I heard him sigh heavily. "So, I went along to the next meeting."
There was a sharp intake of breath at the table, and I had to fight to keep from gasping out loud myself.

"You joined the Death Eaters?" Izzy asked in a strangled voice.

"No," Nelson snapped. "I went to the meeting. I didn't join. I would never join them. I can't say I didn't agree with what they said, but I wasn't prepared to go to the lengths they were to get what I wanted. Only, you don't just drop out when you feel like it. The Dark Lord expects unwavering loyalty, and when someone would stop turning up to meetings, he'd find them. He'd find them and kill them."

"So what did you do, then?" George asked stiffly.

"Well, I tried all sorts of different spells to stop them from finding me, and I travelled to America, to see if I could gain refuge there." Nelson coughed once, and I heard him put down his knife and fork. "Then I met Sarah."

At first I wanted to go in there, just to see the looks on their faces when I walked in. But then I stopped; I'd wanted to know why my mother would have fallen for someone as utterly fake and pathetic as Nelson Zabini, and here was my chance to hear the story. So I stayed exactly where I was, and kept listening.

"We met outside of this tiny little coffee shop. It was pouring it down with rain, and she didn't have an umbrella, so I offered to share mine with her." Nelson sighed again; "She was the most incredible person I've ever met. When I told her that if I ever disappeared one day, she laughed and said she'd just chalk it up to one of my many secrets. She was just so ... happy and carefree; I couldn't help falling in love with her. We were engaged to be married, a year or so after we met.

"But I knew I'd put her in the line of fire, as it were, so I backed out. I didn't have the courage to tell her what I was, so I put it in a letter and left, the night before the wedding. I felt like such a heartless bastard, but what else could I do?" Nelson now sounded as though he was pleading with someone. Most probably my grandma.

"Eleanor, you know the rest. Sarah was pregnant with Blaise. With my daughter. I knew it was a mistake to get involved with anyone, much less a Muggle, but I couldn't help wanting to see my own child. So when you contacted me," he said to my grandma, "I knew at once that Blaise was a witch. I had thought about it, and desperately hoped that she wasn't, because it meant that my own daughter could be in danger too. So I disappeared to South Africa, and I've lived there ever since."

The most deafening silence followed this speech, and Izzy wasn't the only one caught up in the story. It was the first time I'd ever stopped to consider the reasons why Nelson had left me and my mom. I felt absurdly guilty for not giving him a chance, but really, why should I? Alright, he had his reasons - and good ones too - but it would've been nice to have known about him. To have known that he was out there somewhere, and that one day, I would eventually see him again.

But then, that's exactly what happened, isn't it? And look how that turned out. Apparently, Nelson Zabini isn't the biggest shit that ever graced the planet, no matter how much I want him to be.

I figured I'd been gone long enough, so I raced back into the kitchen, grabbed the dessert, and went back outside to the table. I put it down, and took my seat again, noticing all the while, that still, no one had said a word. They gave each other uncomfortable looks when they thought I wasn't looking, but I saw them.

"You heard every word that was said, didn't you, Blaise?" George asked, his lips twitching in amusement.

I thought about lying, but really; what was the point? They already knew I'd been listening at the door, so what would be gained by saying I hadn't?

"Yes," I said, slightly shamefaced, but defiant all the same.

"Well, I hope that's shed some light on why I did what I did," Nelson said awkwardly.

I nodded but stayed silent. Really, there was no point in pretending I now understood why he left, especially when I was still in two minds about the whole thing. But still, I'm beginning to realise some of what he went through.

Later that night, I was in my room, getting through the last of my holiday homework, when there was a knock at the door. I hesitated for a second - I was so close to finishing my Potions essay, after all - but then I figured it was probably my grandma, checking to see if I was okay.

"Come in," I said absent-mindedly, flicking through the notes spread out on my bed.

The door opened and I looked up. Nelson stood in the doorway, and my face fell. He didn't look too eager either, but he took my invitation as though it was still open, and stepped in the room. He stood there for a few seconds, before finally dragging a chair over to my bed and sitting down in it.

There were a few seconds of uncertainty on his part, while I merely searched for the right passage in my textbook. He coughed; I looked up, and saw he was twisting the hem of his shirt between his fingers, so I stopped working and gave him a pointed glance.

"What?" I said flatly.

"I just ..." Nelson began, but he seemed unable to finish it. "I think I overreacted to you dating Lucius Malfoy's kid."

"Oh?" I said curiously.

"Yeah. Listen, Blaise; I don't want you to think I'm interfering or anything, but just ... be careful, okay?"

"Will do," I said casually, and went back to my homework.

"It's just that you're my daughter, and despite whatever you might think, I do care about you. I cared for Sarah, too. So much."

That struck a chord in my chest, and I knew it was finally time to let go of my anger and accept that Nelson was back.

"I know," I said softly. "And I really wish it was that easy."

"It can be," he said with an encouraging smile.

"Yeah, I know ... It's just ..."

"What? What is it?"

"Try and think about it this way; for ten years, my mother barely cared for me at all. I didn't know a thing about fathers, and I always decided that since everyone had one, and I didn't, well, I didn't want one." I paused for a moment, then continued; "And then mom died. My grandma took me in, I went to Hogwarts, and suddenly I began to wonder why you weren't there. It hurt, you know, to watch people get presents from their mothers and fathers, and know that I had neither."

"God, Blaise, don't you think I know that?" Nelson stood up in his agitation. "I relive the day I walked out every time I close my eyes. I knew that it would be hard for you. Hell, I knew it would be hard for everyone involved. But I thought Sarah would cope; I really did."

He flopped back down into the chair, the very picture of a defeated man, and I felt a surge of pity for him. He wasn't to know that my mom would become an alcoholic, I suppose. I can hardly blame him for what he did, but at the same time, I'm not going to commend him on his noble deed, because for all that it is noble, it's still something that I'm not going to forgive him for in hurry.

"I'd like to bury the past," Nelson said hopefully. "Because that's what it is; the past."

"So would I," I said earnestly. "But it's not going to be as easy as I'd like it. I'll have to accept you as an actual person, before I accept you as my dad."

"I suppose that's as much as I can ask right now."

He seemed pleased with my decision, even though it wasn't much of one. My guess is that he's happy I'm going to stop being a bitch to him. So am I, come to think of it. I'd really like to be on good terms with him.

He stood up just then, and glanced down at my homework.

"I'll leave you to it," he said with a smile. "What is it? Ah, Potions ..."

He leant over and looked over my shoulder at my essay.

"Never did like Potions," he said thoughtfully. "I always thought there was no point to it. I mean, how many times in your life are you going to have to recite the twelve uses of dragon's blood? Or know the exact composition of some obscure potion?"

I glanced up at him in surprise. That was the exact same reason I didn't like Potions. Well, that and Snape, but that's not the point. I couldn't believe I had something so trivial in common with him. There really are things about Nelson that I'd like to know.

"And Snape's a real bastard, too," I grinned.

"Snape ... Snape ..." Nelson glanced at the ceiling in thought. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"

"I don't know, maybe you went to school with him?" I suggested.

"Hmm, maybe," he said, but he didn't look thoroughly convinced. I shrugged and assumed the identity of Snape was still bugging him.

"Well, anyway," Nelson went on. "You'd better get back to your homework."

"You sound like my grandma," I laughed.

"Maybe in a few years, I'll sound like your father," he said wistfully.

I shrugged again, and said, "Yeah, maybe." It was all I could do not to add that he shouldn't get his hopes up.

He left then, after bidding me goodnight, and I went on with my homework. I smiled at the thought that I was actually getting on with my father, and wrote down another formula for the Draught of Peace.