Roommates

Twenty Six

Lilithe's Curse

Sunday morning came to find the two Zabini males stretching the cricks out of their bodies as Zachary gathered up his wife's body and he and his son walked back to the house with a trail of House Elves behind them. They placed Frances on her bed and Blaise left his father alone for a little while to walk around the house with Teyla, the Head House-Elf, going over what would be needed to run the house until he could come back for Easter break.

As they neared the front door, they heard someone pounding on it; Blaise took his wand out and told Teyla to go prepare an early lunch in case it was someone they wanted to see. He opened the door slowly to see Snape, Hermione and the Headmaster, along with his father's youngest brother, Roan, standing on the stone steps and knocking on the large doors. Blaise swung the doors wide open and nodded to them all.

"What're you doing here?" he asked.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak when Roan interrupted. "Blaise, where's Zach? With Frances?"

Blaise nodded. "In her room," he said softly. "You know where it is, right?"

"I think I know where it is," Roan said, patting his nephew on the shoulder. "If not, I'll just ask a House-Elf."

"Most of them are-" Blaise gulped. "-are digging. For a grave. But there should be a few around somewhere." Roan nodded and walked off to comfort his brother.

Blaise turned to the others on the steps. "I know my uncle has a reason to be here," he said, slightly numb. "But the rest of you.... You didn't have to come."

Once again Hermione opened her mouth to say something and was interrupted. This time it was Dumbledore. "We've come to offer our condolences, Mr. Zabini," the Headmaster said gravely. "Miss Granger has, of course, come to comfort you since she has said she does not think that family is something you are in particular need of right now. I must say that I concur. Professor Snape has come to see your father, as you probably have guessed, and to help with the arrangements." He moved forward and propelled Blaise into the House with Snape and Hermione following him. "I have come because I wish to know why your sister would do such a thing. Besides the obvious, of course."

Blaise moved from under the old man's touch. "Thank you for your concern, Headmaster," he said. "And yours, Professor," he nodded at Snape, who acknowledged it coolly, "but I need no such comfort and neither do I seek to find why my sister murdered my mother. She's mad, through and through. Mad with power and mad with a cause. She's become a fanatic and anything that disputes her cause..." He laughed bitterly. "Does not deserve to live. So she killed my mother for being a half-blood. Or less, I suppose, with two Muggleborn parents. Such is the mind-reader's curse, Headmaster."

"Mind-reader's curse, Mr. Zabini?" Dumbledore said quietly, looking at the young man whose eyes were red and swollen from crying and whose hands were trembling with grief.

"I studied at a school in Italy when I was young," Blaise said, beginning to walk in the direction of the gardens, making the small group of people follow him to hear his story. "My father was in and out of their library so often that I was enrolled in their grammar school program for a time. Mostly we read in their library. The library was enormous--I can't say really how big. Some say that the content of magic in the building causes it to go on forever, but I'm not sure if that's true--the island it's on is actually quite large. But I digress. I was set to read books on mind-reading, for they knew the power I had. That particular school values power like that, power that only few have. They glorify it and raise you above everyone else until you've become so inflated in your self-opinion that when you fall you bring everyone else with you.

"It was the summer after I turned eight that I read of the mind-reader's curse. As you know with great power--any sort of power--comes great responsibility. And the misuse of such power...can be catastrophic. When mind-readers misuse their power, a power given them to help mankind--or Wizardkind--and they use it instead to destroy a part of it...well, the effects aren't good. They go mad. It's hard to see it, in one as strong as my sister, but she is insane. More so that any mind-reader has ever before become."

He stopped suddenly and turned to look at Hermione. "I told you that I hear voices all the time if I don't wear my necklace?" She nodded. "It's because I can't turn the switch inside of me off. I can't make myself stop. So because I hear people's thoughts all the time I gather power from it. I become more powerful the more I hear."

"There is power in thoughts," Snape murmured.

Blaise nodded at his Head of House. "Exactly. But no matter how much more powerful I would become, it's not worth the price I would have to pay to attain it."

"And what price would that be?" Dumbledore asked as Blaise started to walk again.

Blaise looked over his shoulder and gave Dumbledore a brittle smile. "Hearing a thousand voices, day in and day out? Every day for nine months, seven years in a row? With only three months' break in between? There's only one thing that would even begin to pay the price for the sort of power that I would harvest: my sanity. And as much as the Slytherin in me desires power to rule over everyone, I cannot--will not--pay that price. I prefer to remain sane and in possession of my already abnormal strength for a seventeen-year-old than gather power that would only occur in someone who had lived naturally for eight centuries could possibly have."

"But Lilithenial," Blaise said, laughing a bit at Snape's surprised expression. "Yes, that's her given name, didn't she say? All of my sisters have flower-like names, though Juniper is the only one actually named after one. But Lilithenial does not care what kind of price she has to pay. She can turn off her abilities but she rarely chooses to do so, and instead gathers her power from those around her as she grows old and, sadly for us, more knowledgeable." He arrived in front of the doors to the gardens. "Lilithe cares not how she gets it. Her time at the Isola has only fueled her power sources. She's been there now for almost ten years, being their resident mind-reader instructor." As he opened the doors to the gardens he turned to Dumbledore. "Do you know how many people attend the Isola?"

Dumbledore frowned. "They never release their exact number," he said. "But I know it to be at least two and a half times what Hogwarts has." A look of horror slowly spread across his, Snape's and Hermione's faces as the thought of how much power Lilithe could have gotten entered their minds.

Blaise nodded slowly. "Then you know why I'm so worried. Lilithe is a madwoman, infatuated with the Dark Lord's cause and has far more power than anyone should ever have at one time. Should ever have in a lifetime, even. And she will probably want to kill me and Professor Snape, as well." He laughed bitterly. "Oh, the life of a dead man walking. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a grave to see to. Teyla will attend to you and I will see each of you later. Good morning." He turned and walked out into the gardens. They watched him until he walked out of sight and then they followed the Head House Elf to wherever she had been directed to take them.

~*~

That afternoon, Blaise reappeared to talk to his guests. His hair was wet, as if he'd taken a shower, and there was mud on his shoes. His face was white, which made his blue eyes--which had changed again and were now cerulean blue--stand out from under his dark eyebrows. He'd told them that dinner was ready and they followed him to the dining room he and Hermione had eaten at during the Christmas holidays. He sat at the head of the table and didn't answer any of their questions until the first course was served.

"So," Blaise said, taking a bite of his salad, "what was it you wanted to ask me?" He nodded towards Snape.

"What, exactly, has your sister been hiding from us for all these years?" Snape asked coolly, lifting a cherry tomato to his mouth in a stately manner.

"Ask a hard one next time," Blaise replied sarcastically. He settled more comfortably into his chair. "Well, Lilithe has hidden a lot of things I don't know of, I'm certain. I've had a few glances into her mind the past few months and it's...." He trailed off, searching for a description. "It's like a maze. Traps and fake doors are everywhere. Take a wrong step and she knows you're there and can trap you inside her mind forever. She's done it before, I'm certain. But what I have found out is that she's got an enormous amount of power hidden away somewhere. Where, I'm not certain. It could be in any of several different places or it could be in all of a few different places.

"She thinks it's hidden because she's done something she thinks no one would ever think she's done. She's tried to put the power she couldn't hold into something--or some people--no one would ever expect her to store power in."

Snape frowned. "Could it be possible she's stored it in her children?" he asked.

Blaise smiled, amazed that he knew something that his Head of House did not. "That's a good guess, but no. If you are like Lilithe and me, there are restrictions on who you can store power in, if you choose to store it in a person. With an object, it's different; if the object melts, you've put too much power in."

"What are the restrictions on storing it in a person?" Hermione asked, leaning forward in her seat.

Blaise held up a finger. "One, you cannot store it in anyone who does not have the same power as you. If you did, you would kill the person you stored it in since the power would be at odds with the other, unfamiliar, power in the person and attack it. If it proves more powerful--which it almost always does--the person dies. She loves her children, in a twisted way, I believe. Neither of her children are mind-readers. I believe Lilithe saw to that when she was pregnant--she took magical precautions so that her children did not share the same power."

"She didn't want them to suffer the same hardships she had?" Dumbledore mused. "A good mother, then."

Blaise laughed bitterly again. "No," he said. "She doesn't want rivals. She's already got me and Zel - she doesn't want to have to be wary of her own children."

"So she meddled with her children's genes out of personal comfort?!" Hermione exclaimed, a hand rising to her mouth. "That- That's horrible!"

Blaise nodded. "Yes, it is. And so is trying to drown your brother when he is born because you know he's more powerful than you and you know it. So is sabotaging everything he and your younger sister love to do simply because they share the same power as you do. So is ruining everything they hold dear just to see the looks on their faces and then when you cry after you're forced to apologize, it's not because you're sorry, it's because you're so happy it drives you to tears." He speared a leaf of lettuce with excessive force and they heard the plate crack. "Excuse me," he said, standing up from the table. "Please entertain yourselves and enjoy dinner. I'll join you this evening." He rushed out of the room and they heard his yells as he continued down the hallway.

"He hates her, doesn't he?" Snape said, looking at Hermione. Dumbledore looked at her as well.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, he really does," she said simply. "But he loves her too, because she's his sister. It's a never-ending teeter-totter; eventually one is going to outweigh the other and send it into oblivion. I think if the rumors are true, if the castle is attacked and Lilithe's there...." She looked at Snape. "I think you'll have to race Blaise to kill her before he does."

~*~

Blaise rejoined them in the family sitting room around seven o'clock that evening. For three hours they had been smelling smoke, until Hermione had led them to the gardens and they saw a huge bonfire of things, mostly clothing and personal knickknacks, on an empty piece of lawn. Blaise was standing beside it, five House-Elves grouped around him, with the first peaceful expression on his face that Hermione had seen all year.

When he entered the sitting room later, he immediately strode over to the fireplace and poured himself a glass of whatever was in the crystal decanter on the mantel. He took a drink of it before turning to his guests.

"So, Mr. Zabini," Dumbledore began, "when do you plan on rejoining us at Hogwarts?"

Blaise looked at him in surprise. "I will be leaving with you tomorrow morning, after breakfast," he said. "I never intended to stay longer; I know I'm needed at school." He flicked a glance at Hermione.

"Then who will be taking care of your father?" Snape asked, breaking the silence a few moments later.

"You act as if my father has never seen death before," Blaise said quietly, staring at Snape. "Surely you remember thirteen years ago and...the terrible accident...."

"Who died?" Hermione asked softly, getting up to walk over to Blaise and place her hand and his upper arm gently.

"My father's two sisters, his first youngest brother and my uncle's wife," Blaise said shortly. "And all of their children, eight of my cousins. They were very anti-Death Eaters and were very vocal about their beliefs that there were still some...not caught. The mood of the wizarding world was still shadowed by the Dark Lord's reign. People were still wary of others. My aunts and uncle were at their beach cottage and-" His eyes closed in pain as he broke off.

"They were at the family's beach cottage with their families and Death Eaters came.... The Death Eaters were smart enough to know to take out my uncle first--he was an Auror, you see. A gifted wizard, my dad always said. On the same level as Mad-Eye Moody, I've heard. My aunts' husbands had died in the War. Aunt Iris had three children, two boys and a girl. Aunt Faye had three, also, but she had two girls and a boy. Uncle Dolan and Aunt Lynn had two little girls, and she was pregnant with their third.

"The Death Eaters came during the night and killed my uncle first, then his wife, and their two children. They branched out through the house and killed everyone else, not bothering to make it quick, either. They wanted my family to suffer. And we have suffered. We have." He drained his cup of its contents and filled it up again. "Anyway, professor, you've seen my father is quite capable of handling his grief. He proved so then, he'll prove so now. He'll do better with Roan and Hinder to take care of him, not to mention the other nineteen Elves we've got. They all love us and Teyla was dad's nanny when he was a baby so it's not likely he'll go without food." He drained his cup again and bowed to his guests. "So I'll say goodnight and I'll see you in the morning."

Halfway down the hall, Blaise heard Hermione call him. "Yes?" he said, turning around.

"Blaise, you were four when that happened; when your uncle and aunts died," Hermione said. He nodded. "So how do you know that story?"

Blaise's face darkened and he turned his head to stare at the wall so that half his face was obscured in shadow. "Every year on the anniversary of their deaths my father gets drunk and tells the story," he said.

"I thought you said he was good at handling his grief," Hermione said quietly.

Blaise looked back at her as he started to walk away. "He is. If he wasn't, he'd be drunk all the rest of the year, too."

"Oh." Hermione watched him walk away. "Every year?" she called after him.

There was sadness in Blaise's voice as he answered, "Every year. Every damn year."