Roommates

A Mystery Solved

"I can't believe I'm giving up my free time to help you and Granger investigate sodding Gryffindor's 'private place,'" Draco Malfoy complained to Blaise as he walked with him, behind Hermione, Ron and Harry.

"Shut it, Draco," Blaise said good-humoredly. "We both know you're as curious as a cat."

Up ahead, Ron was complaining to Hermione about working with Malfoy, of all people.

"It's bad enough that we've got to work with Zabini," Ron grumbled, "but Malfoy? I mean, really, Hermione. You expect us to work with him?"

"Ron, you'll work with him if I have to cast a Silencing spell on you," Hermione said primly. As the neared the Founder's portrait, she shushed him. "Hello. Godric," she said, smiling. "Can you let us in?"

"With all these people?" Godric asked, eying them. "I recognize the redhead and the blonde, but what about the one with black hair?"

"Really, Godric," Helga said softly. "That's the Potter boy. Beatrice was here earlier telling us all about him, remember?"

When Helga said 'Potter,' Godric's face softened, and he nodded. "Oh, well," he said, leaning back in the portrait chair, "you can go on in."

The portrait swung open. "What was that about?" Harry asked, looking at Hermione.

Blaise and Draco swept past them. "I have no clue, Potter," Draco said. Standing inside the doorway, he turned to look at them, a mocking smirk on his lips. "Are you coming or going?"

"Come on," Hermione said, dragging Harry and Ron into the room. "You'll love it."

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"Her-mi-oh-neeee," Ron whined. "We've been doing this for hours. Can we take a break?"

Hermione looked up from a book, head propped on her fist, and sighed. "Fine. Ron, you and Harry can leave. I'll finish on my own."

"Thanks, 'Mione!" Ron said, grinning at Harry as they practically leapt from the table. "See you!" he called over his shoulder.

Draco sat back in his chair, staring at Blaise.

Blaise didn't even look up. "Get out Draco," he said. "If not, you'll drive me batty."

"Yes!" Draco said, jumping up and pumping his fist in the air. "I'm late," he yelped, looking at his watch. He ran out of the room and they heard the portrait close with a crash.

"You're friends until you ask them to research with you," Hermione said, flipping through a book.

"I hear that," Blaise said dryly. Hermione looked up at him. "In fifth year, when I was studying for the O.W.L.'s, I asked Millie and Theo to study with me and they came up with all these crazy excuses to get out of it." He shook his head. "When you're a mix of Slytherin and Ravenclaw, it's annoying. Eventually, I used my cunning to 'achieve my end,' according to the Sorting Hat."

"'Achieve your end'?" Hermione asked.

"I tricked them into studying with me," Blaise said, grinning. "It had something to do with chocolate, pumpkin juice and Quidditch. You probably don't want to know the details." He was sorting through a book titled 'Livre de Mémoire.' "Hermione look!" he exclaimed. She quickly made her way around the table to read what he indicated.

Rowena finally finished the spell. We'll cast the primary anchor in the rose garden, and then in one other object. We're putting it in two parts so that if the roses, which are rather obvious, I believe, were discovered and destroyed, which a skilled witch or wizard could do, the spell would go on until the right people came along to restructure it. I suggested the secondary piece. I felt that it was... right, somehow. That she would want it that way. I've put a clue in this room, an obvious one to the observing mind, so that the Maintainers will find it.

If you are reading this, it's in this room. Good luck.

"That evil sod," Blaise said admiringly. Hermione frowned at him.

"Don't insult my House's Founder," she said. "And don't swear!"

"That dodgy old bastard," Blaise continued, ignoring her. "He's put us in a right spot, I can tell you. 'It's in this room.' Bloody clear and helpful, it is." He jammed a cork into an inkbottle and glared at the book.

"Blaise!" Hermione said, scolding. "Really!"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Hermione," he said, sighing and standing, "I'm going to bed. Please badger me in the morning." He saluted her and left the room.

Hermione turned around and looked at the portrait of Godric, his arm around his wife, and his son clutching his mother's dress. "Where is it, Godric?" she asked tiredly. "Where did you hide it?" After a moment of silence, she shook her head and left the room. As she closed the door, a faint glimmer caught her eye. She poked her head back into the room, but nothing sparkled again.

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"Agh!" Hermione said, slamming a book closed. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her temples. "I have to find this before Christmas."

Blaise leaned in the doorway of Gryffindor's private office. "You've been working at this for three weeks, Gryff," he said. "Give it up, you're not going to find that clue before you go home for the holidays. You've got to leave tomorrow, remember?"

"I will find it," Hermione muttered. It had become a common mantra. "If you don't want to help me, I'll do it on my own." She delved back into her searching.

Blaise sighed and went back into the living room, put on a MMD and laid down.

Blaise rolled his eyes as he started to think.

'She said she saw a glimmer from the corner of her eye as she was leaving the room,' he thought.

He got up and went over to the door. Acting out what Hermione said she had done, he looked to his right. The crystal ball in Lesta Gryffindor's hands glimmered at him. "Oh, my God," he muttered. "Hermione!" he yelled, excited, running over to her. "Hermione!" She looked up from the book she was reading. "Hermione, it's in the portrait!" he said, jiggling with excitement. "The clue! It's in the portrait!"

"What?" Hermione said, bewildered. "It's where?"

"In the portrait," Blaise said, rushing past her and going to the portrait. There wasn't anything in it but the three people. And the crystal ball. "The crystal ball!" he cried. "Of course!" He whirled around, and looked, slightly wildly, at Hermione. Frantically, he said, "Where'd he put Lesta's crystal ball?"

Hermione blinked and walked slowly to a cabinet. "Alohomora," she said, flicking her wand at the locks. The door swung open, and she reached and picked up a cantaloupe-sized crystal ball. Something smoky inside it swirled around and grew larger. Her hands were tingly from holding it.

"I think this is it," she said, eyes wide and a huge smile on her face. "I should... pack." She thrust it at him. "Here, you hold it." Blaise took it, looking at her, curious. He heard her door shut and then excited squeals erupted from her room.

Blaise eyed the sphere uncomfortably. "Don't do anything," he warned it, in case it could understand him. "No funny stuff." Walking quietly out of the room and through the living room, he peeked into Hermione's room to see her doing a happy dance, throwing clothes into her trunk, grinning like an idiot. Blaise laughed softly and took the ball into his room while he packed for his trip home for the holidays.

Midway through packing, someone came into the living room. When he poked his head out the door, he saw that it was Dumbledore.

"Hello Headmaster," Blaise said, smiling. 'What the heck is he doing here?' he thought frantically.

"Headmaster," Hermione said, coming out of her room and tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. "How are you?"

"Mr. Zabini, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said, smiling, his eyes a bit somber. "I'm here to relate some news to Ms. Granger. No, Mr. Zabini, it involves you, too," he added as Blaise turned to go back into his room. "If you would please sit down?" He motioned to the Ravenclaw couch and they sat, with him across from them on the Hufflepuff couch.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore began. "It appears that Voldemort-" Blaise suppressed a shiver, "-has gotten wind of what you and Mr. Zabini are doing in the Founder's chambers. I fear that he will try to kidnap you over the holidays."

"Oh, my," Hermione said, eyes wide. "Then I'll just stay here, professor. If you think it's best."

"No, you cannot stay here," Dumbledore said. "I've arranged with a friend of mine for you to stay with him and his family over the holidays. You see, he is a very good historian and has a very large library that I think will serve you well with your research on your... project."

"Headmaster," Blaise started, confused, "I can see how this pertains to Hermione, but what does where Hermione's going for Christmas to do with me?"

Dumbledore's eye became less somber and twinkles entered them again. "The historian is Zachary Zabini, Mr. Zabini. Your father, I believe."

Blaise blinked at Dumbledore. A hoarse croak came out of his mouth that faintly sounded like 'Oh, shit.'

"Not really, Mr. Zabini," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "I think you'll find it enjoyable. I've notified your father and Ms. Granger's parents. Happy holidays, I'll see you on the second of January." Then he stood and walked out, leaving two stunned teenagers behind him.

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"I don't see why you have to go with him," Ron grumbled as he hoisted his trunk into the Hogwarts Express. "Why can't Dumbledore just let you spend the holidays at the Order, like Harry and me?"

"Because he wants me and Blaise to work on our 'project,'" Hermione said, following suit. "Oof! And I think it'll be interesting to see where he lives. And to meet his family."

Harry put an arm around her shoulders. "Well, if you need anything, send a letter or Floo to the Order," he said.

"Harry, it's not like I'm going to be there forever," she said, exasperated. "Just three weeks! It'll be over before you know it."

Hermione sat with Harry and Ron, chatting about Quidditch, the Order, school and what they wanted for Christmas during the train ride. As they entered the station, Blaise showed up to take her trunk and lead her out onto the platform.

"Wait a minute, Blaise," she said. She turned to Harry and Ron and hugged them. "See you!" And then she followed him to an old Rolls Royce parked outside of King's Cross. "You have a car?" she asked, amazed. "But wizards-"

"Call us unconventional purebloods," Blaise said. "We also have a butler. It's not quite the thing to have a House-Elf drive one all around Creation. Wiggin!" Blaise grinned at the middle-aged man who opened the car door for them. "Nice to see you. This is Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Wiggin, an old friend and butler to the stars."

Wiggin laughed. "Always the joker, Mr. Zabini," he said kindly. "Please, get in." As they got into the back seat of the old style limousine, Wiggin put their trunks into the trunk and walked around to the driver's seat. As the car moved away from the curb, Blaise rolled up the window in between them and Wiggin.

"All right," he said, fingers twitching. "There are a few things about the holidays at my house you should know. One, lots of House-Elves, so please don't talk about S.P.E.W. around my family, particularly my mother. You're entitled to your own opinion, but please don't voice it. Then at least we'll have a little bit of peace.

"Secondly, my entire family is there. Immediate family, that is. Lilithe and Roberto and their two children, Zel and Eduardo, June and whomever she brings home, Dad, Mum, and me. And, now, you." He took a breath. "It will be hectic. Chances are you'll hear screaming matches between a child and his or her parent or in-law at the very least three times. Last year the family had a record of fourteen fights in one hour. It wasn't pretty. Thankfully, the next day we all went back to school, back to Italy, Vienna, or on a business trip, so the House-Elves had peace when cleaning up our mess.

"Thirdly, please do not bring up current events. Voldemort-" he shuddered slightly, "-is a touchy subject that is Forbidden." Ticking things off his fingers, he remembered something suddenly. "Ah, and fourthly, don't get in between people in a fight. Then you'll either be A, sucked in, B, cursed, or, my favorite, C, and banished to your room for the rest of the hols."

"Why is that your favorite?" Hermione asked.

"So that I don't fight with people," he said simply. The car pulled up to steps leading to a large, old stone manor. "Ah, here we are. Let's go, Gryff."

"'As I walk into the valley of the shadow of Death I shall fear no evil,'" Hermione quoted as she climbed out of the car after Blaise.

"Ha, ha," he said dryly. "Trust me, the valley of the shadow of Death would be much better than Zabini Manor at Christmas."

Hermione blinked at him; his face was completely blank. Then it split into a grin. "Don't worry, Gryff," he said. "I'll protect you." He motioned her onward and they climbed up the stairs. The front door opened before they had reached it. "Tylen!" he cried, looking at a three-foot-tall House-Elf with a fire-poker-like nose.

"Sir is back from school?" Tylen said, voice squeaky. "And sir brought a miss with him?"

"Yes, Tylen, this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Tylen, my old nanny and now doorkeeper and tidier of my room," Blaise said.

"Blaise!" cried a female voice from a doorway behind them. Blaise and Hermione turned to see a medium sized woman with curly black hair like Blaise's, but her eyes were a gold-tinted green. "Blaise! You're home already!" She ran over and hugged him, and he hugged her back. They chattered in Italian for a minute before Blaise said something that made her revert to English.

"And who is this?" the woman asked, looking at Hermione approvingly. "Did you finally get yourself a girlfriend, Blaise?"

"Zel," Blaise said, embarrassed, "this is Hermione Granger. We're here to research a project."

Zel's eyebrows went up. "And I suppose that, if you didn't have this 'project, you would be back at Hogwarts with all of your 'delinquent' friends?"

Blaise groaned. "Lil's here?"

"She was. She went back to Naples to get Roberto, Elena and Jack. They'll be back by Wednesday, at the latest. Now, dear Blaise, you must introduce me to your young lady," Zel insisted.

Blaise sighed. "She's not my young lady, Zel," he said, halfheartedly. "Zelphinia Caruzo, this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Zel."

"BLAISE!" echoed a commanding female voice from the top of the sweeping staircase to their left.

Blaise groaned again and turned. "Hello, Mum."