Resolving

Chapter Five

The New Arrival

After he had gotten dressed and put his black robes into a bag to change into, he called a taxi and went on his way to King's Cross. He got there at ten thirty, and it took him fifteen minutes to get both trunks loaded onto a trolley and pushed to Platform 9 ¾. Once on the platform, he put his trunks away and went into a compartment to change.

Blaise sat down and looked at the compartment. "Five years and nothing's changed," he mused, looking at the seat covers. "Same tatty material. Same slightly grungy metal ledge on the window." He settled back into the seat. "And same very comfortable seats. I think that I am due for a nap..."

He was woken up from his troubled slumber by the door to the compartment opening. Immediately, he closed his eyes again, wanting to hear what they said before he "woke up".

"Nicole, why do we always get stuck in here?" one boy complained.

"Yeah, why do you always want to sit in this compartment?" said another boy.

"Because," said the slightly scornful voice of a girl, who must be Nicole, "it's a lucky compartment. Plus no one else ever wants to sit here, so it's got more room."

"Yeah, no one wants to sit here. That's why he's there, dead asleep," said the second boy sarcastically.

"Who is he, anyway?" asked the first boy. "The new DA professor?"

"He can't be the new DA professor, Geoff," said the second boy. "They already said that the DA professor is a woman."

"He's got to be the Charms professor," Nicole said.

"Why's that?" both boys said.

"Because Professor Lovegood said last year, in her last lesson, that she wasn't coming back because she wants to spend time with her kids. Besides, Professor Snape mentioned something about a Blaise Zabini in his lesson on the Confusion potion."

"What did he say?" the second boy asked.

"You know, Rory, if you paid attention, you would know that," Nicole said.

"Why should I when you always do?" Rory asked, laughing.

Nicole groaned. "Ha. Ha. Ha. Snape was going over everyone's potions, and when he got to Malcolm McBurney's, he said that he'd never seen a worst potion, and that the only person he'd ever seen make it to his exacting standards was Blaise Zabini."

"Whoever he is," Rory said dismissively. "But how do you know he's Blaise Zabini?"

Nicole laughed. "His name's engraved on his trunk, stupid."

"Right you are," Rory said airily. "So what else do you know about him, Miss Know-It-All?"

She sniffed. "Remember the lecture that guest speaker gave? You know, the Auror, Mr. Malfoy?" Blaise stiffened slightly at the name Malfoy. The students didn't notice. "Well, he was talking about how he didn't know anyone else who was more dedicated to the eradication of Dark Wizards that his old friend, Blaise Zabini. Said that Blaise left home right after the War to hunt down the few who knew something about him and his sister."

"Yeah right," Rory said, and Geoff made a scoffing sound. "You just made that up."

"I did not! Nicole said. "I took notes and was reading them last night because they were so interesting!" Blaise snorted. "What was that?" Knowing that his time for eavesdropping was over, he made a great show of stretching and yawned a bit before opening his eyes. He heard a slight sigh from Nicole and then a cough.

"Hello," Blaise said, smiling. Another sigh. "I'm Professor Zabini."

"Hi," Geoff said after a moment when no one else spoke, reaching over and holding his hand out to shake. "Nice to meet you. I'm Geoffrey Alexander. These are Rory Eamonn and Nicole Ahmed. We're in Gryffindor, fifth years." Geoffrey was a somewhat tall, solemn-looking boy with straight, classical features. His hair was dark and obstinately curly, brushing the tops of his ears. He had very dark eyes, almost - but not quite - black.

"I'm the new Charms professor," Blaise replied. "It's been a while since I've been at school, but I graduated a few years ago." He turned, feeling someone staring. It was Rory.

Rory seemed to be almost as tall as Geoff, with bright strawberry hair and clear, green eyes. He was grinning, with one side of his mouth tilting at a different angle, giving him a rakish look in a lopsided way. "Is it true?" he asked.

Blaise looked at him, amused. "Is what true?"

"Did you really go after all those Dark Wizards on your own?" Rory asked. "Like Mr. Malfoy said?"

He laughed. "Draco has always had a tendency to over-exaggerate, but yes, I did leave quite soon after the War to go in search of a few people."

"Why?" Nicole asked, her dark eyes shining. Nicole had long, wavy, dark brown hair with soft, rounded features and a tiny button nose.

Blaise pinched his lips together for a moment. "They were wanted criminals," he said after consideration, "and I had to bring them to justice. That, and I couldn't bear to be around all of my friends after the War. I had things to think about."

"What sort of things?" Rory asked. "You were a War hero! I heard Professor McGonagall saying once that your family helped to repair the school!"

"Some things are a bit more important than repairing the school. After the War, everyone looked back on the things they did and had to examine them, to see if they were right in doing what they did. Not only the ones on our side, but the people who fought for Lord Voldemort," Blaise said. He looked at Rory and raised his eyebrows. "Don't you have to get changed for school?"

The kids glared at him. "Yes," Geoff admitted. "But we'd like to hear more about where you were."

Blaise laughed. "I'm sure you will. Not now, of course. But once school starts I will probably include things in my classes from my years away. I'll go speak with the driver and I'll see you at the school this week."

"Are you coming up to Hogwarts with us?" Nicole asked as he stepped out. He leaned back in to answer her.

"No. I have something to get in Hogsmeade. I will, however, be at the feast. Have a good trip." He smiled at them and was gone down the hallway.

When the train pulled into the station, he arranged for his belongings to be taken to his rooms and started off down the path towards Hogsmeade. Halfway to the village, the path became more and more overgrown. He smiled in remembrance, thinking about a time, five years before, when people were coming through this path on a regular basis, carrying goods and medicines. Those times were over; the castle was rebuilt and Lilithe was gone.

Gone, Blaise mused, but certainly not forgotten. At the back of his mind lurked the ever-present imprint of his sister's twisted mind. When he had absorbed her powers and life force all those years ago, a tiny grain of her soul slipped into him. She lived on, slightly, through him. For a time, before he got out of the rubble of the school, she controlled his body, compelling him to get her body out. He had, and she'd faded away to only an imprint, her soul passing on to wherever she went. There was no longer a risk of her possessing him again, but certainly there was a risk of him giving in to the urges the imprint gave him, to use his powers in the ways she had, to gain power at the cost of pain and suffering of those she loved, and the loss of her sanity, and eventually, her life.

Hogsmeade loomed from behind a copse of trees, and he shook Lilithe out of his head, walking towards the bookstore. He'd forgotten to pick up a copy of The Second War, the only book - so far - to be published on the second war with Lord Voldemort. If it didn't have the author it did, there would be no books. But the book was published because it was written by a true War Hero - Hermione Granger. He wanted to see what she had to say about the War, about the roles all the different people played, and what she foresaw for the future of wizardkind.

The bell above the bookstore's door jingled when he opened it. He quickly moved into the Non-Fiction section and went right to the book, slipping it off the shelf and paying for it as quick as he could. It seemed longer than even he thought he could write on the subject on the Second War.

With the jingling door closing behind him, he checked his watch. He was five minutes late. If he walked quickly, he could make it back to the castle in ten more minutes, though he would certainly miss the Sorting. Blaise laughed quietly. He'd never cared much for the Sorting Hat and its messages. Glancing around him before he left Hogsmeade, he caught sight of his hair in a shop window. It was brushing the collar of his over robe with its loose, dark curls. He looked away from it and perused the rest of his face and realized how pale his eyes were with these robes. They seemed like someone had put a slight amount of blue into ice. Almost crystal, they were so pale. He laughed and turned back to looking at the road.

The winding pathway from Hogsmeade that lead directly back to the castle was exactly the same as he remembered it: an unpaved, dirty road that was currently almost all mud and that was clinging obstinately to his shoes. He sighed and started searching through his mind for the cleaning spells he knew that he had been taught so that, once he got to the school, he could be slightly presentable to his new students.

He pulled the book out and started to skim through the first chapter. It was describing how the War started and her experiences in the Department of Mysteries, and went on to the sixth year, and the third chapter was talking about her seventh year's search for the Hogwarts secret of the wards.

There was a short paragraph that mentioned him.

Blaise Zabini was the Head Boy to my Head Girl. We were very good friends for the first half of the year and then dated for the rest of the year. His input to our project that year was invaluable, and I could not have done it without him. Shortly after the Second War, he disappeared and remains missing. Besides being told that he is, indeed, alive, I'm not sure where he went.

He paused at that for a moment and then flicked back to the cover and flipped a few pages to find the dedication. When he found it, he stood still for a moment after reading it. It said:

This book is dedicated to the Missing One. You're gone but not forgotten. Come back soon.

Blaise blinked for a few moments and smiled. Then he suddenly looked down to see what time it was. He'd only gone a short distance and he'd left Hogsmeade five minutes ago. After a moment of considering the amount of time it had taken him to walk the distance he'd gone, he eyed his watch again and started to run.

He got to Hogwarts about six minutes later and stood outside the doors to the Great Hall for a moment, catching his breath. Suddenly, he realized that he had no idea where the teachers generally entered to sit at the High Table. He strained his ears for a moment and heard the last moments of the Sorting and then a clamor as students greeted each other and then silence as the Headmistress's speech began. Muttering a cleaning spell, he waited for the right moment, before pushing the Great Hall doors open in the middle of McGonagall's opening statement.

"-Hogwarts another year," McGonagall was saying until the doors banged open and Blaise strode through. "And I will now introduce to you your new Charms professor, Blaise Zabini." She glowered at him. Blaise ignored her.

He was walking quickly through the gap in between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, ignoring the whispers from the shocked students, his robes flowing behind him, creating a very dramatic effect. After he was three-quarters the way up to the High Table, he finally looked for Hermione. She was sitting to the right of McGonagall and her face was paper-white, and she looked beyond shocked; she looked as if she was seeing someone coming back from the dead. Blaise risked flashing a grin at her, and she smiled back at him - as if by reflex - before her face snapped into an instant, disapproving frown.

As it turned out, the only open seat was between her and Snape, who, when Blaise glanced over at him, looked halfway between amused and smug. He walked around the edge of the High Table and took his seat and waited through McGonagall's speech and until the student's clamor started again before turning to Hermione.

"Hello, Hermione," Blaise said.

Hermione turned carefully to him. He took the opportunity to study her carefully. Her features hadn't changed much. She had, though, changed her haircut. It was now shorter and she must have used a new potion on it, for it was a lot less bushy, though the bushiness was not completely gone. She was also slightly thinner, as if she didn't have time enough in the day to teach, write, and eat three complete meals. "Blaise," she said to him, finally, after taking the opportunity to study him, too.

"How've you been?" he asked, venturing carefully. Answers to this question could vary in many ways, and he had experienced all of them.

"How have I been?" she said. He flinched instinctively. "Blaise, we've known each other for years. Well, almost years." She smiled pleasantly and her manner remained friendly and detached. "However, I don't think the dinner table is the best place to catch up. How about you drop by my room tomorrow night and we'll chat?"

He stared at her for a moment. This was completely unlike Hermione; he'd never known her to be this emotionally removed. "Sure," Blaise replied. "I'll join you after dinner?"

Her smile widened. "Perfect. Now, I really do have to speak with the Headmistress, so if you'll excuse me..." She scooted her chair away from his and began to speak with McGonagall in low, furtive tones.

Blaise turned to Snape, who gave him a very pleased smile. "I suppose she's gone through a few personality changes since I left," he said slowly.

Snape laughed. He sounded entirely pleased as he said, "Then you would be quite wrong. This year will be very entertaining, I think."

"Yes, entertaining for you and you alone," Blaise grumbled. "I, however, will probably be murdered tomorrow night. Don't you care?"

"No," Snape replied. "Your father has heirs; my job of protecting the Zabini children has been fulfilled. Go get yourself killed by your scorned lover but make sure to let me know so I can watch." He smiled, blithely smug.

Blaise started to turn back to his dinner, but Snape interrupted him again. "Oh, by the way, Zabini, I have one final surprise," Snape said, almost airily. Blaise looked at him cautiously.

"What?" he asked.

Snape's face split into something that resembled a sadistic smile. "I've become quite overrun by the students in Slytherin lately. I'm getting older, and I realized I would, in fact, like some personal time occasionally and some extra time away from the students who plague my life not unlike fleas do to a rat. So I spoke to the Headmistress this afternoon and you are going to take my place as the Head of Slytherin."

Blaise stared at Snape, slightly open-mouthed. "You- I- No!" Snape nodded. "Shit!" Blaise exclaimed. He heard a slight tutting sound from Hermione. He ignored it. "Shit! I can't do that! You- You're supposed to let me know in advance!"

Snape's smile grew - if possible - more sadistic. "I did. An hour is plenty enough in advance. Have fun with the children, Zabini. I'm sure you are more than capable of handling them. Good luck." With that, he got up and left the table, disappearing out of the Great Hall. Blaise glared at him until he disappeared.

Dinner finally ended and Hermione left before he could say anything to her. He left the Great Hall and ventured down to the kitchens, where he enquired of a House Elf where his chambers were. After the Elf told him, he thanked her and walked off, looking forward to a nice, soft bed and a nice night of sober sleep.

It turned out that his chambers weren't far away from the chambers he and Hermione had stayed in that year, so long ago now. Deciding to go there the next evening or the evening after, he went into his chambers.

They were small but comfortable. He had a study, which the main door opened to. His books had been unpacked and placed on the shelves. A desk was in the corner, large and dark wooded, comfortably sturdy and dark in its own way. Tapestries of the Slytherin crest hung on the bare places of the walls, and a fire roared in the fireplace behind his desk. The study opened into a slightly smaller room, his bedroom. The bed was fairly large and it had his old comforter, from Zabini Manor, on it. He peered into the closet to find his robes hanging up there, and then opened the dressed drawers to see his Muggle clothes were unpacked and placed in there. He smiled and took off his robes and hung them up, pulling on a pair of pajamas and crawling between the sheets. He flicked his wand at the candles and they went out as he rolled over and went to sleep.