Roommates

Eight

Sibling Arrival

"So," Hermione said. "What's the matter with your sister?"

Blaise's face remained buried in his hands. "Nothing, besides the fact that she's a mind-reader, a complete nose, and pushy as all hell." Clearly, when distraught, Blaise's mouth slipped a bit.

"And why are you so scared of her reading your mind?"

"Would you want your older, self-righteous sister to know what you were thinking? I mean, I'm used to her poking around in my thoughts, but I don't think she should," Blaise responded, his now-visible eyes glaring. "When I had a crush on this girl, she blabbed right in front of her. The girl, I mean. Lil blabbed to the girl. Most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me."

Hermione's mouth twitched. "That's interesting," she commented.

"It's not funny." Blaise's voice became muffled again. "She also told Mum when Zel and June were," he coughed, "well, she told them a lot of things to do with Zel and June. Mum used to take June and Lil along on business trips, leaving us with Dad, so Zel and I are the scholars of the new generation of Zabinis."

"What does your mum do?" Hermione asked.

Blaise shrugged, leaning back in the sofa. "Err, she's a research and developer for the University of Magic in London," he said. "Something more than that, since she travels an awful lot. I'm not exactly sure, since she doesn't talk to me about her job, or any, really, that much." He pushed his hair out of his face. "She wasn't home much when I was younger. When June was born, I was two, and she was home for about a year. She never really seemed interested in Zel and me, I guess because we were more like Dad than like her." His crystalline eyes dulled. "We used to try everything to get her attention, but it never worked. She was always wrapped up in Lil and June. Lilithe and Juniper," he scoffed. "The two children she named. Dad named Zel and me. I was named after his grandfather," he said as an afterthought.

"So you're named after your great-grandfather?" Hermione asked, fascinated.

"Yeah. His name was Blaise something-something-something Moristy," Blaise said. "My father's mother's father. Mine is Blaise Michael Hyndir Délas Zabini the Third."

"The third?" Hermione said. She was surprised that there were other people with names like that.

"Yeah, crazy, eh Gryff?" Blaise laughed. "It's a Zabini inside joke. I'll tell you sometime. Now I must go owl my father to see if he found that charm yet." He walked into his room, muttering about charms that prevented people from reading your mind.

Hermione shrugged and went back to her book.

₤ ₤ ₤ ₤ ₤

Sunday was a Hogsmeade day. Hermione, Harry and Ron walked down to the Entrance Hall together, chatting about Quidditch, Hermione being educated on its finer points for what seemed to be the thousandth time.

They climbed into a carriage and were about to close the door when a tousled Blaise Zabini hopped in, glaring at Harry and Ron, but nodding to Hermione.

"Zabini," Harry said. "What're you doing?"

Blaise ran a hand through his hair. He looked at Harry blandly. "I'm knitting a sweater." He rolled his eyes. "What does it look like Potter? Or is being famous preventing you from thinking?"

"Shut it, Zabini," Ron growled.

"Really, Weasley," Blaise said, smirking, "are you thinking of attacking the Head Boy?" Ron's ears turned bright red and he shrunk back in his seat, muttering darkly.

"Blaise," Hermione said, "just tell us why you're in this carriage, please."

"Well, my mother always said that when a man and a woman love each other very much, they-"

"Zabini!" they all cried.

"What?" Blaise asked, smirking. "S'truth." They glared at him. "Oh, right. I was kicked out of my carriage by a dear friend of mine and his lovely girlfriend."

"Who-" Hermione started to ask, when Blaise interrupted her.

"Oh, look, we're here. Cheerio," he said, hopping out of the carriage. He sauntered off, whistling.

"Don't look at me," Hermione said crossly. "I live with him, I don't claim to understand him." They followed Blaise's suit, and got out of the carriage.

"So," Ron said, as they walked through the town. "What should we do?"

"I was going to go to the bookstore," Hermione said, "so if you want to come..."

"Hermione, threats will get you nowhere," Harry said, grinning. "We'll see you at the Three Broomsticks later, okay?"

"All right." They parted ways, and Hermione walked over and into the bookstore.

Looking around, she saw no one was there and went into the Arcane Magic section. Looking at a cabinet, she asked the clerk to unlock it for her and she ran her finger over several book's spines before finding a book by Rowena Ravenclaw.

Opening it, she found a short section entitled, The Rose Spell. As she was flipping through the pages, she found a few paragraphs devoted to the spell.

The Rose Spell is a very difficult magic to perform. It took me several months to adapt it from what it once was, which was a spell for statuary, into what it is now.

Beautifully subtle, it is undetectable unless it wishes to be seen or felt. The spell is adaptable only to certain things, such as crystal balls, plants, statues and animals, though the spell should be on a temporary basis, as they die about a week after the spell is performed.

It is the best Warding spell that I have ever come across. I highly recommend it.

"Wards?" Hermione muttered, surprised. "The roses are... wards?"

"Bloody hell," a voice from over her right shoulder breathed. Hermione half-turned. It was Blaise. "Wards?"

"Zabini! Were you spying on me?" Hermione cried indignantly.

"Not at all, Gryff," Blaise replied, a barely concealed smirk creeping up his lips. "I was just looking around for something interesting to read when I noticed, by accident, that you were reading a book by Rowena Ravenclaw. I would have asked you what it was about, but you seemed so focused on your reading that I decided to find out by myself."

For a moment, Hermione was at a loss. She tried to think of a sharp reply, but when she found none, she decided to change the subject. "Do you think we should tell Dumbledore about these roses?"

Blaise paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. "I'm not sure what we are supposed to do. We should take a look at that book of hers in the library, and the others, too."

"That seems to be the best way," Hermione said, tracing a finger on the book's text. "But what about this book? Shouldn't we get this one, too, if it's going to help us? I mean, somehow those roses have 'chosen' us, if the Pensieve and journal were any clue."

Blaise tried to take the book from her, but she held on tight. "Damn it, Granger!" he said, frustrated. "D'you even have the money for this book?"

Hermione started to protest, but stopped when she saw the sign next to where she'd gotten the book. 'Thoughts On Arcane Spells, by Rowena Ravenclaw, 75 Galleons'. She blinked, and set the book back on the shelf.

Blaise sighed, and picked the book back up. "I can buy it, Granger," he said, still annoyed.

"But, it's so expensive!" Hermione protested.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Granger, really." She trailed behind him as he walked determinedly towards the cashier. "I get an allowance from my parents, deposited directly into my Gringott's account. I can afford this book, trust me." He set it on the counter in front of the cashier. As he rung it up, Blaise got out a checkbook. After he had paid, he took the bag with the book in it, and walked swiftly out of the store, Hermione still trailing behind him.

"So... you have your own bank account?" Hermione asked him.

He held the door to The Three Broomsticks open for her. "Yeah, my parents gave each of us one when we were thirteen. To help us learn money-management, they said. All I know is that I don't really buy too much, Lilithe is a tightwad, Zel's money runs like the Nile, and June's money is non-existent." He looked at her. "What about you?"

Hermione shrugged. "My parents are Muggles, so I have to change pounds into Galleons at Gringotts before every school year. I don't have enough money to have my own bank account. Yet," She added, smiling as they sat down.

"Want a butterbeer?" Blaise asked. She nodded, and he tapped a waitress on the shoulder. "Two butterbeers, please." He handed the woman some Sickles and turned back to Hermione. She was looking at him in an odd way. "What?" he asked. "My father taught me that a gentleman always pays."

"If he taught you that, your dad must be a nice person," Hermione remarked as the waitress set down the two bottles. "Er, that sounded wrong. I mean, erm, that he really seems like a nice person." She blushed. "I'm saying it all wrong. I hope you know what I mean. And," she went on, looking at him, "you bought that book for me, you really should've let me pay for the butterbeers."

Blaise nodded. "I've always looked up to two people in my life: my father and my sister Zel. Now I look up to one, since Zel's shorter than me." He laughed. "Joking. I still admire my sister, but we're friends now. I don't see her as Athena anymore, though I greatly admire her determination and drive." He looked out into the distance. "I really miss her. She's my best friend. Now she's a couple of hundred miles away, and we can only talk by owl."

"Why doesn't she floo into Hogsmeade?"

"Oh, university, Eduardo, the baby now, and if she comes here, there's a slight chance that Mum might be here to shop, and Zel doesn't want to run into Mum."

"Why not?" Hermione asked.

Blaise blinked. "I'm not sure." It was obvious to Hermione that he did know, just didn't feel like talking about it. She left it alone, and just sipped her butterbeer.

₤ ₤ ₤ ₤ ₤

That evening, Hermione walked into the Great Hall with Harry and Ron. She was telling them about Blaise buying the book.

"...And then he just buys it! Like he buys seventy-five Galleon books every day!" Hermione was saying as they sat down at Gryffindor table.

"Your attention, students!" Professor McGonagall said. The chatter of the students died down and she went on. "Thank you. If you could shift your attention to Professor Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore stood up. He cleared his throat. "Everyone, I have an announcement. There will be a series of lectures this semester on mind reading. Please welcome Professor Sererotti, everyone." A spatter of applause sounded as the new professor stood up.

She was of a middle height, with black hair and striking blue eyes. She looked at everyone. "Thank you," she said. "That's very kind. I'm Lilithe Sererotti, as Professor Dumbledore said, and I'm very happy to be here. I will try to make my series as interesting as possible, and I hope you all will enjoy my lectures. Thank you."

Hermione looked from Lilithe to Blaise, who was rolling his eyes and saying something to Draco, who laughed and replied. Blaise met her eyes and shook his head, rolling his eyes again.