Roommates

Twelve

"Hello, Mum," Blaise said, fighting the urge to run to his right, and to the West Wing, where his rooms were. But he couldn't leave Hermione to fend for herself.

"Blaise," Frances Zabini said, "explain yourself."

"About what, Mum?" he asked, edging towards the hallway door and making sure Hermione was doing the same.

"About your public fight with your sister," Frances said, voice steely.

"Mum," Zel put in, "Blaise's only just gotten home. Perhaps you should talk to him another time?"

Frances eyed her for a moment. "Very good, Zelphinia. I believe that's a good idea. I shall inform the House-Elves what we're to have for tea." And she swept away from their vision, presumably to the kitchens.

Blaise looked goggle-eyed at his sister. "She- She actually listened to you!" he said, amazed. "How-"

Zel cut him off, laughing. "When one announces that one is pregnant over breakfast, then one gets a few liberties with one's mother," she said. "Now, let's get you two into your chambers. I'm sure Hermione is tired of hearing all of our idle chatter and budding arguments."

Zel lead them through the hallway on their right and up the flight of stairs at its end. They climbed for three flights, finally stopping on the third floor of the West Wing. At this point Blaise took over, walking quickly to the last door at the end of the hall and opening it gleefully.

"My room," he said, sighing at the sight. "And," he turned to a door to the right of his, "I believe that this will be your room while you're here, Hermione. Right, Zel?"

"Excellent guess, little brother," his sister said, smiling. "I'll leave you two alone to unpack and relax now. Blaise, tea is at four. Don't be late; I can only cover for about fifteen minutes. When I have another kid, maybe I'll reach twenty, but I'm trying to not over exceed my limit." She turned and walked back down the hall.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked.

"It means that Zel's only got so much 'Mum credit,' which is when you've done something Mum likes, and she lets you persuade her of things. Such as not yelling at me in front of my guest. That sort of thing, though Lilithe can pretty much get away with whatever she wants." He opened the door to Hermione's room. "I'm going to unpack, and you should, too. When you're done, come on over to my room and we'll look at whatever my father's left there for us." He disappeared into his room, and Hermione walked into hers.

The room was large, about a fourth larger than her room at Hogwarts. The bed was big enough to fit about five of her, and was raised three feet off the ground on a large bedstead. Everything was in varying shades of pink, with touches of white and lilac. The duvet on the bed was a pattern of pink climbing roses on a white background, and there were matching curtains on the windows and around the bed. The vanity was entirely white, with a lilac chair in front of it. The wardrobe was wood, stained a whitewashed sand color and took up a third of the wall. The large picture window had a window seat with back and seat cushions that were pink.

Hermione smiled and went to her trunk, which was placed at the end of the gargantuan bed. Opening it, she started to unpack. By the time she finished, it was 3:50 and she went to knock on Blaise's door.

"Come in," he called. She opened the door and stepped in, closing it behind her.

"Wow, Blaise," she said. "Your room is... wow," Hermione breathed, looking around.

Blaise's room was twice the size of hers. One half was bedroom, the other a mini library. The bookshelves, which were up to the fifteen-foot-high ceiling, were covered in books, with books stacked on top of each other. There was a large mahogany table that had books and paper strewn on it and three upholstered oversized chairs with throw blankets on them in the "library" half. The "bedroom" half it was surprisingly blood red, with silver and sapphire thrown around. His mahogany sleigh bed was covered in a patchwork velvet quilt, with red, sapphire, silver, yellow, green, and white squares on it. Hermione noticed that all of his furniture was wood, and all of it was either mahogany or stained a dark chocolate color.

Blaise noticed her looking at his bed. "It's made from old clothes," he said, startling Hermione. "The quilt, I mean. It's made from clothes that the Zabinis of old wore. The white square in the middle was my fourteen-times great-grandmother's wedding dress. She started the quilt and handed it down to her daughter-in-law and it was finished by my grandmother when she sewed on my christening patch." He pointed out another white square, on the upper right corner. "Nobody else wanted it, so I got it when Grandmamma died. She had it specially marked out in her will and sent posthumously from France."

"From France?"

"Yeah," Blaise said. "'Blaise' is French, but 'Zabini' is Italian. My Mum's family is French, and my dad's family lived in Italy before moving to France for a few generations and then they moved to England. Grandmamma moved back to France before Voldemort's first rising, I think. That's what Dad says, anyway." He glanced at the wall clock. "Oh, shit. We're late. C'mon, Hermione, time to meet my family." He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the door. Halfway down the hall, he opened the laundry chute. "Jump in."

"There's no way I am jumping into a laundry chute." Hermione said, eying it with distaste.

"It's the only way we'll make it on time," Blaise said, agitated. "I'll go first, so if anything goes wrong, you'll land on me. How's that?"

"Okay," she said slowly.

"Peachy." He jumped in and she followed, whizzing down at an astonishing rate. "Start breaking now!" he yelled up to her.

"How do I do that?" she yelled back.

"Put your feet up against the sides!" he replied, as if it were obvious. She complied, and a few moments later, he climbed out of a hole in the chute and reached an arm in to help her out. Once she was out and dusting her robes, he grinned. "Wasn't that fun, now?"

Hermione glared at him. "Never again, unless we're late. Only then. Otherwise, we're taking the long way 'round."

"Fine by me," he said. "Now, if you'll give me your arm, I'll take you in to tea." She tucked her arm into his and he spoke again, "'For yea though I walk through'--or in this case, into--'the valley of the shadow of Death, I will fear no evil...'" Hermione shoved him, and he laughed. "I would buy a crucifix if I were you," he warned. "We can be awful over tea, though usually only when Lil's here. Thankfully it's only Zel, June and me. Plus whatever miscreant June's brought back."

"Master Blaise and Miss Hermione," squeaked a House-Elf as they walked into the parlor.

It was about half the size of the Gryffindor common room and looked almost as comfortable, though slightly foreboding. It was furnished in the Victorian style, but all of the chairs were overstuffed and looked bouncy. The family was sitting around a fireplace, with two men and Zel on the left of it, and Frances, a young lady and a young man on the right. Blaise nodded at Hermione before walking over to them.

"Dad," he said, grinning widely and hugging a man who looked like a much older version of him. "How are you?"

Zachary Zabini smiled, emphasizing deep laugh lines around his eyes. "Blaise," he said, deep voice affected a bit with emotion, equal parts of happiness and relief, "I'm fine. And are you going to acquaint us with your friend?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Blaise said, in a rush. "Eduardo, Dad, June and, er-"

"-Luc," said the young lady, who must've been June.

"-er, Luc," Blaise continued, eying the Frenchman suspiciously, "this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is my family."

Zachary stepped forward. "It's very nice to meet you, Ms. Granger. Albus has spoken very highly of you. I understand you're the top in your class."

"Yes," Hermione said, blushing with embarrassment, "I am. Blaise has nothing to say but good about you, Mr. Zabini."

A tall man, who had been sitting next to Zachary, stood up. He had a very prominent nose, and looked entirely Italian with wavy dark hair and dark eyes. "It is very nice to meet you, Hermione," he said, carefully pronouncing each word, obviously relatively new to the English language. "I am Eduardo Caruzzo, Zel's husband."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Caruzzo," Hermione replied. "I'm a friend of Blaise's from school."

"Please, call me Eduardo-" he began, before June cut in.

"So you're Hermione," June said, standing up and moving over to talk to her. "You're all the rage I hear." She grinned and elbowed her older brother, who flushed. June was of medium height, not taller than Hermione, and had her father's thick and wavy black hair. Her eyes were completely different, however, being different from all of her siblings, as they were amber flecked light brown. She had very light skin, and it looked well with her dark hair and light eyes. She was wearing a pair of cream robes with maroon embroidery. "Thanks for helping Blaise with buying the chocolate at Honeyduke's, as it's really good. I shared some with Luc and he made me bring him back for the hols." She laughed and smiled at her companion.

Luc was about Blaise's height, with honey-colored blonde hair. He had crystal blue eyes and a beautiful smile, seemingly reserved for June.

"So, June," Blaise said, fixing his sister with a look, "new boyfriend?"

"He's just a friend, Blaise," June said crabbily. "Like Hermione is to you."

"I'm sure," Blaise muttered. He continued to eye his sister suspiciously throughout tea, though.

Hermione and Blaise sat next to Zel and waited for a House-Elf to serve them. Blaise could tell Hermione wanted to cry out against such inhumane slavery, but thanked God that she kept her mouth shut in the presence of his volatile-tempered mother.

As tea almost finished, he could tell that she was about to explode. He quickly looked around and found the teapot.

"More tea, Hermione?" he offered, practically shoving the pot underneath her nose. Her social justice outrage cooled visibly, and her shoulders relaxed, leaving her much calmer.

Fifteen minutes later, a gong sounded, and the Zabini's scattered from the parlor like wildfire, leaving Hermione and Blaise sitting there, Blaise making sure that she didn't completely lose it in front of his mother.

"That... was hard," Hermione said. "I never thought you could have so much tension in a room before."

"Wait until Lil comes back with Roberto and the kids," Blaise said dryly, "and then you won't be able to cut the tension with anything but a chainsaw."

"Oh, dear."

"You're telling me," Blaise said grimly.

"And you live through this every summer?" Hermione said, slightly horrified.

"Well, sometimes Mum isn't here and it's just June, Dad and me. Last summer I spent it in Vienna, with Zel and Eduardo. That was really fun. Two years ago I was forced--along with June, who didn't mind as much--to go to," he shuddered in memory of it, "Lil's house for summer vacation."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Well," he said, leading her through a corridor, "Mum and Dad both had business trips and Zel was in a work-and-study program in Egypt--she's going to be a Curse Breaker with Eduardo in Russia. Surprisingly, there are a lot of old, cursed things left over from the Mongol invasion all that time ago." Blaise shook his head. "Mongols wizards were nasty, apparently. Worse than the Egyptian wizards, by all account."

"Really?" Hermione said, fascinated. "How?"

"Oh, booby traps that would cause non-Mongols to become man-eating camels, ones that would blow non-Mongols up, that sort of thing," Blaise said. "Ah, look, we're here."

"Whe-" Hermione started, then she looked out the open door that was in front of her. "Wow."

It was a beautiful garden, with roses, daisies and hydrangeas. Pavilions were scattered around the area, and a few House-Elves were pruning back plants.

Hermione stared, gaping for a moment. "But, Blaise, it's December," she said. "How can all of these flowers be in bloom?"

"Look up," Blaise said, pointing.

A large magical dome encompassed the garden, and the snow that was falling simply slid down its sides, causing huge drifts around the dome. It shone a bit, and glittered when the sun touched it, but was otherwise translucent.

Blaise led her to a green and gold colored pavilion. They ducked inside the large tent, and sat down on the green and gold chairs.

"This one is my favorite," he said. She looked up from a book she'd found. "We all have one. This one is mine; and Zel and Eduardo like the pink and gold one; Mum and Lil like the grey and silver one; Dad, the black and white one; and June likes the blue and tan one. I've no idea why we all like different ones. But I suppose that the furnishing is different in each one."

"You suppose?" Hermione asked.

He shrugged. "Once a pavilion is claimed by a person--or two people--then no one else is allowed in them, unless they're brought in by the person or people who claimed it. I've been in Dad's, and that's it."

"What does his look like?"

"Similar to mine. More straight backed wooden chairs than these ones and a desk." He looked at her, a peculiar expression on his face. "You're the first person I've brought in here."

Hermione smiled, and said, "Oh." She looked away from him and glanced around the room for a minute. "Who built the pavilions?"

"I think the same person who built Zabini Manor," Blaise replied, playing tic-tac-toe with an invisible opponent. "My twenty-times great-grandfather, Jean Zabini." He finished the game and picked a book off the shelf and started to read.

"Oh."

They sat around for the rest of the afternoon, until Tylen came in to tell them it was time for dinner. Blaise glanced at Hermione before replying.

"I think we'll dine in my chambers tonight, Tylen," he said. "Please convey my regrets to my mother."

"Yes, Master," Tylen said, turning around and leaving the tent.

"How come Tylen's allowed in?" Hermione asked.

"Because I let her in," Blaise said, squinting at the bookshelf before putting his book back in the exact same spot. "Everyone has at least one House-Elf that can come into their pavilion. Mum and Lil have got Yinna; Dad's got Tylen's brother, Hinder; Zel and Eduardo have Hennie; and June's got Fedal." He stretched. "Now for the long trek back to my rooms for dinner. I'm starved."

They walked back to the manor, first making sure that no other family members were around, and made their way up to Blaise's room through back ways.

"Where are we going to eat, Blaise? I mean, we can't just eat on your library table," Hermione said as they entered Blaise's chambers.

Blaise looked at her, horrified. "Eat on my library table? Never! We're eating on my dining room table."

"Dining room?"

"Yeah." Blaise walked over to a bookshelf and pulled a book out; a secret door swung out, the width of a shelving unit. They walked through it and into a rectangular room that had a table with six chairs around it. The room had four windows, though none of them looked out into Blaise's room. Hanging from the ceiling was a chandelier, with candles in it. Blaise escorted Hermione to the chair to the right of the head of the table and pulled it out for her. "Mademoiselle, your chair." She sat, giggling.

He sat down at the head of the table and rang a bell that was on the table. House-Elves hurried in and served them the meal, filling their glasses and putting napkins on their laps.

"Mm, filet mignon," Hermione said, smelling the scent of a medium rare piece of steak. "Delicious."