Roommates

Sixteen

Blaise showed Hermione around the library, constantly reminding her to close her mouth because flies would get into it if she didn't. She did, as she felt a gnat land on her tongue, and, the sensation, she said, "Was not pleasant."

They walked through the upstairs sections upstairs in an area that had a cut out section in the floor with railing around it, where you could look down at the area below. The main door of the library slammed shut, and Blaise frowned. His frown grew --though Hermione didn't notice, since she was examining the books on the shelf-- as he heard the steps approach the area beneath them.

"Zachary?" called a voice he knew well. Blaise pulled Hermione down as the man glanced up into the balcony area where they were. The man frowned and sighed exasperatedly before glancing around him.

"Lilithe," said the cold, drawling voice of Severus Snape below them.

"Severus. I wondered when you'd arrive," Lilithe responded from her chair in the corner, half engulfed in shadow. "Acting as Dumbledore's pet messenger boy again, I see."

Snape pulled his wand from his robes and pointed it at the woman's temple, seething and shaking with rage. She didn't even flinch, and the wand remained trained on her, even as she was merely a few words away from death. "Never," he said, "speak to me like that again. Or I swear I won't keep silent next time." He turned to leave, and she called after him.

"You haven't changed, Severus. Not once in all these years," Lilithe said, voice dripping of false sentiment and poison. "Don't think you can. I've known you for too long."

Hermione whispered to Blaise, "What's going on? Why is Snape here? How does he know Lilithe?"

Blaise shrugged. "I dunno. Shh, I want to hear what they're talking about," he whispered back.

"You couldn't kill me, Severus," Lilithe continued, tauntingly. "And if you did, it would haunt you for the rest of your life. You never could kill people. That was your weak point."

Snape turned sharply and strode over to her and grabbed her throat, snarling at her. She gave a gargled laugh. "Oh, a backbone. Bravo, Severus. I see that the brats of the Wizarding elite have toughened you up to my sharpened claws."

Snape snarled at her, lip curling up so far it almost disappeared and tossed her back into the chair. 'You forget, Lilithe," he hissed, "about what I said, all those years ago."

"I forget nothing, Severus," Lilithe said. "You know that."

"You'll wish you'd forgotten a great deal if you don't shut up!" Snape said; his voice a hoarse whisper that spoke of rage.

"You think you're so noble," she replied, not even trying to hide the taunting in her voice. "You aren't. You're just eaten up inside, Severus. I know you are. You've forgotten how to shield yoursel-" She was gazing into his eyes, and suddenly her expression became unfocused and her eyes glowed a bit. Then the expression disappeared, and she laughed. "You think of that?" she spat. "Of all things. Someday, Severus, someday soon your downfall, as short as it may be, will come." She started to laugh bitterly, with an undertone of something not quite human, not quite earthly.

Snape almost roared and picked her up again by her throat and shook her, causing her to laugh even more, until he squeezed hard enough so she couldn't laugh, could barely even breathe. "I swear to you, Lilithe," he said, glaring down at her as she rubbed her throat from her limp stance on the armchair he'd dumped her on. "I swear to you that the next time I see you, I won't be accountable for what I do." He advanced, and trailed his wand along her jugular. "And I swear to you, that when I see you on the battlefield, when this war comes to its climax, I will kill you. That's a promise, Lil." He gave her a ragged sneer, before actually leaning down to kiss her. "Just for old time's sake. Take care, so that you are alive and well by the time I kill you..." He strode away from view, and Blaise and Hermione sat for a moment, speechless at the sight that they had just witnessed.

Lilithe sat for a few moments before slowly getting up and leaving another way. They heard her shuffle away and sat until they were sure she was gone.

"What was that?" breathed Hermione.

"I don't know," Blaise said, grabbing her hand and making their way back to the front--and the light--of the library. "And I don't want to. That was... strange. Very strange, even for my family. Death Eaters... Lilithe! I didn't think she could be involved in anything like that, but maybe I was wrong." He looked at Hermione as they leaned against a shelving unit in the Italy section. "I didn't want to believe it, but I have to face the truth: my sister is most likely evil. I should tell my dad, but I don't want to worry him. I don't want him to do something stupid, like confront her."

"Look, Blaise," Hermione said, "maybe she isn't a Death Eater. After all, if she was, wouldn't she tell Voldemort about Snape being a spy? Er-"

"Snape's a what?" Blaise asked, face coming out of his hands.

"Nothing," she said hastily. "I didn't say anything."

"No, you did," he said slowly. "Snape's a spy?" He voice got louder with each syllable.

"Shh, Blaise!" Hermione said, looking around frantically. "That's a tight secret, all right? You can't tell anyone, most especially your classmates. I can't really say some things, but many people's lives are at stake. Mine. Ron's. Harry's. Dumbledore's. All the Muggleborns and half-bloods at Hogwarts and in the Wizarding world. If this gets out... Snape could be dead by morning. I could be dead by morning and so could you."

He took her by the shoulders and found she was shaking. "Hermione," he said, bundling her up in a comforting hug, his mouth right by her ear. "I won't tell anyone. We only just started dating. I really don't want to die right now, just as I get a girlfriend. That really ruins the whole experience, I hear."

She giggled. "Blaise, you're so funny."

"C'mon," he said. "Let's get out of here."

They walked back to the stairs and went to the main door, where they were greeted by the sight of Zachary Zabini handing over a large, textbook-sized package to Severus Snape, who was looking slightly disheveled and a bit angry.

"Professor," Blaise said, smiling and nodding, trying not to burst and say, 'Why did you try to kill my sister?' Instead, he asked, "How are you?"

"Zabini," Snape said, nodding to him and Hermione, "Granger. I trust you are using your holiday in the manner that Headmaster Dumbledore suggested you use it?" He gave them the patented 'Snape glare' that had made more than one first year in their first Potions class faint.

"Yes, sir," Hermione said, cheerful smile plastered on her face. "How has your holiday been?"

"Until now," Snape said, "utterly entertaining, as it was student-free."

Zachary covered up a snort of laughter with a cough. "Run along now," he said to them, making shooing motions. "This is business, and has absolutely nothing to do with you. Go bother your mother. I believe she and Narcissa Malfoy are discussing baby names." He made a face.

"Baby names?" Snape asked, a single eyebrow lifting in a snide querying manner. "Whatever for?" He looked at Hermione who blushed and looked at the floor.

"It's for Mrs. Malfoy," Blaise said, looking straight at his Head of House. "She's pregnant."

"Oh, dear God, not another one," they heard Snape mutter. "One was enough, and now another blond priggish brat? I won't stand for it."

"Cheer up, Severus," Zachary said, pushing Blaise and Hermione out of the library. "Look at the bright side. You might be dead by the time the child gets to Hogwarts." The closed door prohibited them from hearing any response, but they did hear a 'thwop' noise that signaled Snape whapping Zachary with something.

"Your family is insane," Hermione said as they went back down the hallway and out into the main corridor.

"Get out while you can," advised Blaise, grinning a bit.

"Are you insane, Blaise, dear?" Hermione asked, eyebrows lifting in amusement. "And miss all this excitement? I don't think so!" They laughed and continued down the hall.

~*~

As they walked towards the dining room that evening, someone came up behind them and put their arms around their shoulders. They looked and saw it was Zel, who was walking as fast as she could--which wasn't very--in order to walk with them.

"Honestly, you two, slow down! You're wearing out an old pregnant woman who has to waddle everywhere," Zel said jokingly. "So. D'you know what's got Lil behaving like there's a billiard cue up her arse?"

Blaise snorted. "Let me ask you, besides the Malfoys-" Zel groaned at the mention of their name, "-are there any guests for dinner?"

"Yes, Severus Snape- Oh," Zel said, nodding to herself. "Now I see."

"See what?" Blaise asked, stopping short in the hallway, causing Zel to stumble.

Zel frowned. "I shouldn't have said anything," she said. "It's not my affair, nor yours, so it's best you forget it for the time being. It'll come up again sometime soon, though no doubt too soon."

"C'mon, Zel," Blaise whined. She shook her head. "Why not?"

"Because it isn't my story to tell," she said firmly. "I may not like my sister, Blaise, but I'll be damned if I tell something that you might bring up at the stupidest time."

"Just a little bit, please!" Blaise said, tugging on her sweater.

"No, sorry," Zel said as the gong rang out, announcing that dinner was served. "Let's go into supper. And hopefully we won't be sitting with Lil."

They weren't, fortunately, sitting with Lilithe. She was sitting at the head of the table, by Frances. Unfortunately, Snape had the misfortune to be sitting across from her, and was glaring furiously as he sipped his tomato soup and made polite conversation with Frances. Zel was seated near the middle, next to Lucius Malfoy and Draco, who were asking her all about the moods pregnant women get into; she was having great fun exaggerating to them and making them sweat. Blaise and Hermione had been snagged by Zachary to sit with them.

"Now, what's this about you two having some sort of project?" he asked them as he poured himself a glass of wine.

"I'll have some of that, Dad," Blaise said, offering his own wineglass. Zachary poured in a quarter glass and then another equal portion of water. Blaise glowered at the glass. "When do I get an adult's portion of wine?" he grumbled.

"When you act like one," his father replied promptly. Blaise groaned. "You set yourself up," Zachary added and Blaise nodded. "Tell me about the project, now, or I'll ask Severus for some Veritaserum. I'm sure he would gladly dump some in your wine and your pumpkin juice," he said, nodding to Blaise and Hermione in turn.

"Never mind that Veritaserum is a controlled substance," Blaise muttered.

"I'm sure Severus could 'spill' some, accidentally, into your drink," Zachary replied, cheerfully.

"Fine, fine," grumbled Blaise. "What d'you want to know?"

"What you're doing, for a start," his father said, cutting his broiled salmon.

Blaise glanced at Hermione, who sighed and nodded. "We're researching the wards at Hogwarts in hopes of finding a way to maintain them," Hermione said, glancing down the table at the Malfoys, who were staring openmouthed in a horrified manner, listening to Zel's animated (and most likely false) detailed descriptions of the wonders of pregnant women. "The Headmaster asked us to when we were put in the Founder's rooms."

Zachary dropped his fork and knife and stared, frowning, at his son and Hermione. "He did?" he murmured, pushing some cranberry sauce around with his fork, which he'd picked up. "Interesting."

"Dad, can you show us something about it?" Blaise asked, putting his hand on his father's forearm. "If you know anything, please tell us something."

"I... don't think I do, really," Zachary admitted. "But you should check the English history section--around ten hundred--in the research library."

"We did," Blaise said, "and there wasn't anything."

"Not here, of course," Zachary said, bite halfway to his mouth. "The Zabini Villa, my dear son."

Hermione frowned. "The Zabini Villa?" she asked. "Where's that?"

"Italy," Blaise said, grinning. "Excellent! Italy and back, in the space of a few days!"

Zachary frowned. "You can go tomorrow," he said. "And I'll go with you, as I have some business there, but only for tomorrow, because Christmas is on Friday."

"Okay, I guess," Blaise said, trying--and failing--to hide a huge grin. "Hermione, you're really going to enjoy the Villa. It's absolutely huge, though you won't be able to see the rooms besides the main library. I told you about it, remember?" She nodded, mind racing as to exactly how many books could be in the main Zabini library, but it failed to compute such a sum.

Zachary then firmly changed the subject to a different, less complicated subject: the weather.

~*~

"So Blaise," Hermione said as they climbed the stairs to their rooms. "Is this library worth the Floo trip?"

Blaise grinned. "Let's just put it this way: you don't know libraries until you've been to the Zabini Villa main library. You'll see tomorrow." They stopped in front of her door and he kissed her cheek. "G'night, Hermione."

"Night Blaise," she said, as she went into her room and closed the door softly behind her.

The next morning Blaise knocked on her door early, for Christmas vacation. She was already awake and writing to Harry, since he had apparently instructed Hedwig to stay until she got a response. He leaned in her doorway after she had told him to come in and watched her scribble her response on a foot-long piece of parchment.

"I have never met anyone who wrote their friends as much as you do," he remarked.

"Really?" she responded, offhand as she signed her name and rooted around in her bag for a stub of wax.

"Really. I grew up with all of my friends, and we hardly ever wrote to each other, unless we were on vacation in different places," Blaise said. "But I write them now, since they all go to a school in Italy, Isola Scuola da Molti Magia."

"Is that a good school?" Hermione asked inquisitively.

"Very," Blaise said. "It's the top school in Italy like Hogwarts is the top school in England. The system is different, though. You have to compete to get into the school, and not a whole lot of people make it. It's not like Hogwarts, how they send you a letter when you're eleven; they have you in for the Exams when you're eleven. You sit in a room with anti-cheating everything surrounding you, and you take a test equivalent to first year's year-end exams and you either pass or you don't."

"Did you?" Blaise looked at her. She elaborated, "Did you fail?"

"No. I actually got the top score out of all the kids who took the test. But my dad said no and sent me to Hogwarts. That's how my friend Gio got his spot in the school. If I had gone, he would've had to go to the Scuola da Magia." He let out a snort of laughter.

"What's funny?" Hermione asked, really interested in something she knew nothing about.

"Gio--Giovanni Cavera--would've been a bit... well, 'put out' is the polite way to put it, if he had had to go to Scuola da Magia. His entire family, for centuries back, has gone to the Isola magic school. Anyway. Gio's a bit of a snob about those things. I think he'll be there today, at the Villa. He, Isa and Vin should be there, studying."

"Studying?" Hermione asked. "I mean, I study all the time, but during Christmas break? And why at your house?"

"Isola is very competitive," Blaise said dryly. "I don't think I've seen Gio, Isa or Vin without a book in their hands, or in a bag for the past seven years. And likely not until they leave Isola, either. Dad lets them study at the villa because it's the only place that has a near enough good library that would suit their studying needs."

"How long do you stay at Isola?" Hermione handed her letter to Hedwig. "Shoo. Peck Harry for me, girl." The snowy owl flew out the window as Hermione turned back to face Blaise. He was frowning.

"It depends on what kind of training you want," he said. "Basic, like what we get here, you get in seven years, like here. Gio's training to be some sort of Tracker, though. Isabella's doing something that is related to Aurors and Vincenzo is studying Magical History and Advanced Theories of Arithmancy."

"Wow." Hermione stood up. "I'd love to go there."

The frown on Blaise's face cemented further. "No, you wouldn't. The teachers there are very... anti-Muggle. Mostly. It's an all-pureblood school." He shook his head. "But I don't want to talk about it. Let's go have breakfast."

All through breakfast, Blaise was quiet and slightly broody as Zel chatted at him and Hermione and his father glared at his newspaper as he read the headlines. Finally Zachary gave a final disbelieving snort and stood up, tossing the paper on the floor.

"Come on, kids," he said to Blaise and Hermione. "Time to go." He pushed his chair back and strode from the room, with Blaise and Hermione hurrying to catch up with him.

They went down several corridors until they reached what seemed to be an antechamber. Hermione asked Blaise about it, and he answered her, "It is an antechamber. The antechamber to the ballroom. This is where people Floo in for events my parents might have."

Zachary was muttering at something and a distinct phrase--"The damn thing is always stuck"--made its way over to Blaise and Hermione, who were standing by the seven-foot-tall fireplace, which was big enough for at least three people to stand in. Zachary finally got whatever he was looking for and came over, offering them a box filled with Floo powder. "Take some, stand in the fireplace, and say 'Zabini Villa'." He went over to the fireplace, did what he had instructed them and disappeared into the network.

Blaise went next, and Hermione gulped and followed him, closing her eyes as she entered the network for the long trip. When she arrived, it was sunny and warm and light spilled into the airy room from the open doors and windows.

"Welcome to my family's favorite home," Zachary told her as she dusted herself off. "I'm sure Blaise is going to show you the library, and I must head off to do a bit of research. Have fun, and don't do anything unadvised." He hurried off and around a corner.

Blaise looked at her, grinning. "It's lovely, isn't it? C'mon, let's go to the main library. I think that's where everyone should be." He took her hand and dragged her down some hallways before stopping in front of a large door that resembled a window-shutter. He dug in a pocket and came out with a silk scarf he'd brought with him and tied it around her eyes. "Trust me," he told her when she objected, "you're going to like it much better this way." He took her hands and guided her through the door, which he'd opened. After positioning her in what he must've thought was the best place, he told her, "Okay. Take off the scarf now."

She took it off and her mouth fell open. If the library back at the Manor was large, this one was easily five times the size of it. While Blaise's smug grin grew, Hermione didn't speak for a full five minutes as she walked over to a shelf and saw several rare books that she'd heard about and wanted to read. "Blaise..." she said. "This is... wow. This is great!"

"I knew you'd love it," he said, coming over to put his arm around her shoulder. "Here, I want to-"

"Blaise?" said a voice coming from their left. A girl, with long and straight dark hair, accompanied by two boys with similar appearances, though there were some differences in their appearances. The boy on her right had red hair, while the boy on her left had dark hair with bright green eyes. All three of them were wearing basically the same thing: tan pants or a skirt out of a light material with a white shirt under an ankle-length black vest. "What are you doing here? Who's she?" She spoke in Italian, so Hermione didn't understand, but Blaise did.

He replied in English, saying, "Isabella, Gio, Vin, this is Hermione Granger, from Hogwarts. She's the Head Girl and I'm Head Boy. We're here because I wanted to show her the books. She loves books."

"Oh." This time the girl, Isabella, spoke in English. "You don't mind us using the library?"

"No, why should I?" Blaise asked. "I don't go to Isola, so I don't begrudge those who do the resources to make it there." For some reason, when he said this, the boy with red hair snorted and muttered something in Italian that made the other boy elbow him hard in the stomach. "Gio, d'you have something to say?"

The red headed boy glared at Blaise. "I don't see how you have to be so uppity," he said in Italian. Hermione frowned, not able to understand. "Just because you go to some smarmy school in England. Surely this 'Hogwarts' isn't as good as Isola."

Blaise glared right back at him. "I go to Hogwarts because I enjoy it," he retorted, in Italian that was not at all affected by his English accent. "In the beginning because my parents wanted me too, and now because I like it and I don't have to learn to speak bloody French." He scoffed. "As if I'd want to go to Beauxbaton anyway. Bunch of frogs."

"How goes it in Hogwarts, anyway?" asked the other boy, in English, his question hard to understand because of his thick Italian accent.

"Fun," Blaise said. "Hermione, by the way," he added in Italian, so as to not get reprimanded by her, "is my girlfriend."

"Oh, Blaise's finally got a girlfriend?" Isabella crowed, also in Italian. Hermione was beginning to be confused. "Well, the Apocalypse is coming, boys. That's a sure sign of it."

"Enough about that," Blaise said, switching back to English. "We're here to look at the books that Hermione would be more interested in, like the ones about the Founders of Isola and Hogwarts."

"Oh, those," Vin said, in heavily-accented English, pulling a pair of glasses out of his pocket. "Come with me, Her-my-oh-knee, and I'll show you. I'm sure Blaise has some explaining to do," he said dryly, nodding at Isabella.

Hermione, recognizing a fellow bookworm in Vincenzo, followed him up the stairs to a little alcove, where he reached up and got down a dusty tome about the size of her copy of Hogwarts: A History. "Wow," she said. "So, how was Isola founded?"

"As a lot of other tales," Vin said, "it does actually begin with 'as legend has it'. You see, we don't really know much about the Founders of Isola, except that they had a love of knowledge and teaching the young people who showed talent for Wizardry. When you go, you don't have 'Houses' as you do in Hogwarts. You do have dormitories, and you have to take a test to show which one you're suited for. They have rooms for girls and boys in the dormitories, and you move rooms depending on what you're doing at Isola: getting an advanced degree, basic training, or a teacher's certificate. I'm in the Marison dormitory, which is mostly for the people who are into Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and other advanced subjects. It's not as old as your school is, since it was founded in thirteen hundred, but we've got the same reputation, except for a few dark spots."

"Yes, Blaise told me that the school isn't too friendly to Muggleborns," Hermione said, leafing through the book and looking at the pictures.

"Yes, it isn't, unfortunately," Vin said, sighing. "It's something I don't share but people in Marison are usually ignored since we are --I think the Muggle term 'math geeks' describes us best-- more into the mathematical side of magical studies. Also unfortunately, it's a prejudice that my nearest friends --except for Blaise, who dislikes what he calls 'stupid people' no matter what their blood or heritage-- share in. And it really saddens me that they could be so stupid."

While Hermione and Vin were talking about their different schools, Blaise was downstairs having a heated conversation with Isabella and Gio.

"I don't see why you don't like her!" Blaise said. "There is nothing wrong with her. She's smart, she's pretty, easy to talk to and annoy-"

"The thing is, Blaise," Isa said, "that she's a Muggleborn. You're a pureblood. It doesn't work that way. You should be dating someone of your own... stature."

"Look," Blaise said, slipping into Italian and glaring at his childhood friends. "I'll date whoever I sodding want to date, and there's no bloody way you can stop me!"

Gio's lips disappeared into his mouth. "Then I don't think I can speak to you anymore," he replied.

"Then you can sodding get out of my house," growled Blaise. "Both of you, until you sodding get to become a bit open-minded. Bloody hell! If I wanted to ostracize myself from everyone at school, I'd proclaim in the halls what you're spouting off. But I don't believe it, and I don't want my arse kicked every bloody day by some sodding Weasley." He kicked the stair well. "Now get out. And don't let me hear that you've been here or else I'll come back this summer and kick the living shit out of you." He turned and stalked away, muttering further curses in Italian.

Stomping up the steps, he found Hermione, nodded to Vin, and pulled Hermione out of her seat with a cryptic "We're leaving".

They left the library, found a House-Elf and Blaise told it shortly to tell the Master that they were leaving and went back to the fireplace.

"Blaise, say something, besides cursing in Italian, which I know you're doing," Hermione told him. "What happened? What did they say?"

"They were saying some awful things about blood and 'stature' and how 'it doesn't work that way'," Blaise growled. "Elitist garbage that the so-called 'purebloods' spout off to their elitist children. I think it is all bunk. My father taught me that it's the inside, what goes on in your head that matters, not the appearance or the social status or stature. I could care less as to whether I'm ever on the society page in the Daily Prophet. I thought my friends were above this, but I guess not. I haven't really written to them in years, but I thought they'd be the same as they were when we were young. I suppose not. Vin, of course, is nothing like those two. He's smart and doesn't believe in all of that blood nonsense. Come on, let's go." He handed her the Floo powder and let her go first into the network. He looked back one last time at his house as he muttered "Zabini Manor," and shook his head as he stepped into the fireplace.