Harry Potter Fanfic - Variables and Change, Part I
Harry Potter Fanfiction
Title: Variables and Change
Author: ariensilverleaf
Beta: passthebutter who is, incidentally, awesome.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Blaise / Draco, implied Draco / others
Word Count: 12300
Summary: Blaise Zabini is of the opinion that people, like maths, should always be easy to figure out when all the variables are known. After running into Draco Malfoy, though, everything is thrown out of control and change is as inevitable as the war that is coming.
Warnings: Vague dom/sub relationship, implied non-con, mention of bondage, boys are just a little shy of 18 during the majority of the story
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and its characters are the property of J.K. Rowling, and I lay claim to nothing but my own ideas. She makes the money, I just play.
Notes: DH-compliant, surprisingly, though the epilogue won’t exist in this universe. This was originally written for the 2008 HP Valensmut fic exchange for tourniquette99. The original post can be found here.
Part II can be found here.
~ ~ ~
Variables and Change: Part I
People, Blaise Zabini had decided long ago, were like maths. Of course he'd never expressed this opinion to anyone except for Mother and Theo that one time, as the unwashed masses had no real idea what maths actually was, but it was true. People. Maths. It all made sense when you just put the equations together just so.
Granted, people weren't like ordinary Muggle-style maths. No wonder the Muggles had no idea what was ever going on; they didn't even understand transcendental Calculus or the variable properties of an ever-changing runic digit. People were more like Arithmancy, which was to say that they were proper maths: difficult to figure out at first until you knew all the variables. To properly predict how their equations would shift over time one had to, of course, take into account external factors such as Answold's Fifth Law of Space Time Mutation, but once you had all the numbers everything became crystal clear.
Really, after figuring out one personal equation, most people looked much the same to Blaise. People were only ever interesting if, like the better problems in Arithmancy, they contained a new kind of variable. If something changed unexpectedly, and you were forced to figure out what that change exactly was, what had caused it and where it had come from. Changes like that introduced all sorts of new variables into an old equation that could turn a simple problem into a conundrum that could take days or even weeks to properly solve. Those were the incidents that Blaise lived for. Everything else was just boring.
So it was that the summer after Dumbledore's death had been, for the most part, rather dull. One would think that an abrupt change like the death of a figurehead like the old coot would affect people in new and exciting ways, but it seemed that everyone was really acting the same as ever. The Ministry types ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, like they always did during a crisis. The First Families like the Parkinsons and the Flints made a big to-do about paying the proper respects while obviously plotting to take advantage of the situation. The Aurors strutted about trying to look as though they had everything under control, the Obliviators were clucking their tongues about all the work they had to do to keep the Muggles in the dark, and the Unspeakables were of course tight-lipped. Business as usual.
Mother was, predictably, being unpredictable. Convinced as usual that the answer lay not in being three steps ahead of the game but rather in jumping off to the side and making up new rules as she went along, she had taken it upon herself to make her decisions each day by casting different runestones and piecing together plans by interpreting random passages from random books all over the house. Only yesterday she had decided that she would make a pilgrimage to Glastonbury Tor because a runestone had clinked against an apple she'd been planning to eat for breakfast and she had interpreted that as a sign. Of course then she hadn't eaten the apple after all and instead gone for a plate of blueberry scones while insisting that the apple be burnt to prevent ill spirits from using it against her. Blaise loved her, but he'd long since given up on trying to understand how her maths worked. If there was one person in the universe who could defy logic, it was Isabella Morgana Zabini nee Locklore Josiah MacDuff Sawwan St. Clair van Ewingthorne de Leoncoeur of the Most Noble House of Zabini. The mere fact that she actually managed to keep the full name on her calling cards and still come off as classy was mind-boggling enough.
So while Mother was away, Blaise had decided to have an evening out on the town. It was rare that he had opportunity to get out from under Isabella's wing and visit Diagon Alley on his own, and Theo had mentioned that he'd seen a new book on four-dimensional trigonometry at Flourish and Blotts. Diagon Alley was certainly less boisterous than usual, although Blaise wasn't sure that was such a bad thing. A lot of the shops were closed down and people looked harried and worried. Impending war, it seemed, was bad for business. The bookstore was still thriving, though. Even Death Eaters needed to read from time to time, Blaise decided with a smirk.
He was about to enter the shop when out of the corner of his eye he noticed a quick flash of white. Something niggled his mind about it, though he couldn't quite put his finger on why. It seemed out of place. Turning to get a better look he saw a figure robed in black heading into Knockturn Alley. The white flash had evidently come from the head of blond hair. Only two kinds of people in Diagon Alley had that kind of hair - albino vampires and Malfoys. Though there wasn't much difference, Mother would be tempted to say. It looked like Draco Malfoy was alive after all.
The bookshop momentarily forgotten, Blaise quickly followed along after Malfoy. No one he knew had seen the boy since the night Dumbledore died, and rumours had been flying rampant about him ever since. Everyone knew that Harry Potter had announced that Snape had killed the old man so no one really suspected that Draco was guilty of murder, but clearly he'd been part of the nasty business that had gone on that night. Draco had been a friend, of sorts, for a long time. They'd grown up together, although that didn't mean very much among the First Families, since the number of children was always so small that most of them had known each other all their lives. They had never been confidants, like Blaise and Theo were, but Draco had been a constant in Blaise's life for awhile and that had been thrown off all the past year, since Draco had been acting so peculiar right up until he'd disappeared. Blaise was used to knowing exactly how Draco would behave in any given situation and now he wasn't entirely certain. It was vexing, and he intended to find out what was going on.
Going round the corner into the Alley, Blaise saw Draco slip into Borgin and Burkes. Getting close to the building, Blaise surreptitiously peered into the window to see Draco handing a package to old Borgin. The wizened old shopkeep paled as he looked inside the parcel and tried to hand it back to Draco, who glowered and backed away. Sighing, Blaise muttered a small amplification spell and touched the tip of his wand to the edge of the glass. Slowly the voices from inside the shop got a little louder, tinny and sounding as though from far away, but audible.
"... expects you to do your part, do you understand?" Draco voice hissed. The boy sounded tired and angry, and there was some other quality in his voice that Blaise couldn't quite place. Interesting.
Borgin shook his head and again tried to give the package back. "I support the cause," he muttered, "but this is asking too much of me."
"Dammit, old man, do you think I care?" snapped Draco. "I didn't come to argue with you, understand?"
Sighing, Borgin nodded slowly. "I see I have no choice in the matter and - wait, who is that?"
Damn, thought Blaise, drawing his wand away from the window and pressing flat against the wall. Old Borgin had looked toward the window when he'd said that. Clearly he'd noticed Blaise snooping. This couldn't end well.
Before Blaise could withdraw from the Alley altogether, Draco burst out of the shop, his wand in front of him. Blaise raised his own wand, and the two of them stared at each other for a moment, silent as Death himself.
"Zabini," breathed Draco finally. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"
"Might ask you the same thing, Malfoy," replied Blaise, arching an eyebrow. "Even though the Ministry hasn't officially put a warrant out for you, everyone knows they're looking. Seems rather odd to see you out for a bit of shopping."
Draco glowered in response, his wand still pointed directly at Blaise. "Bugger off, Zabini, and stay away from me," he growled. "Forget that you saw me here."
"Rather hard to do that, considering I haven't seen you since that night in June," continued Blaise, unrelenting. "What have you been up to, I wonder? Taking a vacation for your health, I suppose? Perhaps on a tour of the magical wonders of the world?" Goading Draco into an argument was always the easiest way to get information out of him. Blaise had never known the boy to be able to resist a fight.
Taking a deep, heavy breath, Draco slowly lowered his wand. "Leave it, alright?" he said. "I don't want to talk to you about it." Deliberately he turned away from Blaise and started heading back towards Diagon Alley, pulling his hood up over his head.
Blaise was stunned for a moment. Draco Malfoy, backing down from something? What in Avalon was going on here? "Draco, wait!" he called. "Please." Draco stopped, but didn't turn around. "What happened to you? We've been worried, Theo and I."
Turning slightly, Draco met his gaze. "You don't want to know, alright, Blaise?" he said. "I'm sorry you saw me. Just forget it. This didn't happen. I have to go." Turning again, this time quick with finality, Draco hurried off, leaving Blaise standing alone in the middle of Knockturn Alley, staring after him.
"Curiouser and curiouser," he muttered. Now he knew what that other sound had been in Draco's voice when he'd been talking to Borgin. It was fear. Not the everyday kind of fear that Blaise had heard in countless voices while at school, Draco's included, but a kind of fear that Blaise was unfamiliar with. Draco Malfoy was afraid of himself.
~ ~ ~
"Well it certainly is curious, Blaise, but I'm not really sure exactly what you expect me to say." Theo Nott's voice was exasperated as he regarded Blaise through the Floo while Blaise paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. "I'd like to know what happened to him too, but it's his own business and it's not as though he was your bosom chum or anything."
"That's not the point, Theo," snapped Blaise.
Sighing, Theo propped his head on one hand. "What is the point then? You've been babbling for the past half hour and not arriving at any conclusion. That's not like you."
Blaise came to a halt, staring out the nearby window. Theo was right, this wasn't like him. If Draco Malfoy wanted to play cryptic spy games and pretend that he didn't know his friends from school, that was his business. Logically, Blaise knew this, but he couldn't stop worrying over the problem like a Crup with a bone. Something had happened to change Draco rather drastically, and Blaise couldn't rest until he knew what it was. "It just worries me that someone we've known since we were in nappies could be altered so much without my knowing how," he muttered. "Something awful must have happened to him."
"And?" asked Theo, yawning slightly.
"Oh don't pretend that you don't care at all, Theo Nott," Blaise said with a glare. "You don't fool me. As much as he is a prat, he is our friend. And think about it for a moment. If something could change the self-styled Prince of Slytherin, egomaniacal lord of all he surveys, it must be big. There are going to be consequences that will eventually come to us. We should know about it."
Theo pondered that for a moment, his shadowed eyes watching Blaise resume pacing again. "Alright, let's say that something did happen to him," he finally said. "What do you intend to do? Clearly you're going to do something, Blaise."
"I'm going to go see him," replied Blaise. "I'm going to go to Malfoy Manor."
Eyes wide, Theo raised his head. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asked. "Don't just do this because you're a bored rich boy, Blaise. Everyone knows that something is going on at Malfoy Manor."
"And I want to know what that is," said Blaise with finality.
~ ~ ~
Malfoy Manor looked much the same as ever to Blaise. The same ridiculous peacocks that Lucius Malfoy was obsessed with, the same perfectly manicured lawns, the same pristine gleaming white gravel drive leading up to the doors. Blaise had been here many times in his life; all the First Families spent most of the year moving from Manor to Manor for the various celebrations of the calendar. Of course the social season had been rather slow since the incarceration of so many prominent citizens after the debacle at the Department of Mysteries last year. The last time he'd been to Malfoy Manor was for the Malfoy's New Year party to ring in 1996. He and Theo had spent most of the night avoiding that old toad Umbridge, who'd managed somehow to secure herself an invitation, ugly social climber that she was. Draco had, of course, been the perfect Malfoy gentleman in front of his parents and had spent the night being solicitous to the bat. Mother had brought husband seven with them, the French one if Blaise recalled correctly, and that had been the night that he'd had that horrible accident. It seemed that a poisonous spider had made a home in one of the Malfoy's gardens, and Lord de Leoncoeur blundered right into it while out trysting with Mother in the dark. Tragic.
Blaise had Apparated to the gates and rung the bell. As expected, a house elf materialized after a short moment and took his calling card, allowing him to come up the drive to the main entrance. Unexpectedly, he had to stand on the step waiting for several long minutes before anyone came for him. Finally the door cracked open, and Blaise was startled to see Narcissa Malfoy herself standing there. It was a horrible breach of etiquette for the mistress of the house to be answering the door, and if Mrs. Malfoy was anything she was an advocate of the rules of high society.
Recovering his composure, Blaise dipped into a short bow. "Mrs. Malfoy," he said smoothly. "Thank you for receiving me."
"The Zabini boy," murmured Narcissa. "What are you doing here?" She made no move to allow him into the house.
"I... had thought to pay a visit to see Draco," started Blaise, thrown off by the older woman's reticence. "I've not seen him since he left school, and -"
"Draco isn't here right now," Narcissa interrupted. "You should go, Mr. Zabini."
"Sister darling?" called a voice from behind the woman, and Narcissa tensed, casting a warning look at Blaise. "Who is that?" Another woman came up behind Mrs. Malfoy, looking over her shoulder. Blaise realized after a moment that he recognized her from the wanted posters scattered over Diagon Alley. "Why, this boy is the spitting image of old Isabella Zabini," exclaimed Bellatrix Lestrange. "This must be her son Blaise that I've heard so much about."
Blaise dipped into another short bow, determined not to show any adverse reaction to the convict's presence. "Madam Lestrange," he said. "It is an honour to meet you."
Bellatrix smiled down at him, and Blaise wondered at how perfectly ordinary she looked. Perhaps a bit wasted away, and there was a touch of an unhealthy gleam in her eyes, but otherwise she looked like a normal pureblood woman in her family's estate. "So well-mannered, isn't he, Cissy?" she crooned. "Is he here to see Draco?"
"Yes, Bella," said Narcissa, still regarding Blaise, though calculatingly now. "He came by to issue Draco an invitation to come to Zabini Manor, isn't that so, Mr. Zabini?"
Blinking once, Blaise decided to go along with whatever game Mrs. Malfoy was playing. "Yes, Mrs. Malfoy."
"How sweet," remarked Bellatrix. "How unfortunate that wee Draco is all... tied up at the moment."
Narcissa flinched a little, but still held Blaise's gaze. "Perhaps it's for the best, anyway," she said. "I know your Mother probably would not approve of you spending time with Draco. We all know that she does not hold our company in high favour."
"What do you mean, Cissy?" Bellatrix turned on her sister, all pretense of joviality gone now.
"Surely you know, Bella, that Isabella Zabini has never been an avid supporter of certain activities that you and my husband partake in."
"Is this true, boy?"
Blaise darted his gaze back and forth between the two women, nervously licking his lips. This was far more than he'd expected to have to deal with. Perhaps Theo had been right to suggest that coming here was a bad idea. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Mrs. Malfoy," he said, trying to salvage the situation.
Bellatrix stared him down with an icy glare. "Isabella never knew what was good for her or for her family," she growled out. "She'd do well to learn that her behaviour affects not only her but her son as well. I'm sure that Lucius would agree with me, wouldn't he, Cissy?"
"Yes, Bella, certainly."
Spinning on her heel, Bellatrix stalked back into the house, clearly of the opinion that the conversation was over. Narcissa regarded Blaise appraisingly for another moment, and then nodded at him. "Good day, Mr. Zabini."
"Good day, Mrs. Malfoy." Narcissa closed the door and left Blaise standing bewildered on the steps, wondering what he'd just gotten himself into.
~ ~ ~
Ivegenino's Third Law of Metaphysics states that there is a cascading effect on the actions of witches and wizards when the variable of luck is factored in. The luck factor tends to amplify exponentially based on the first action that it was tied into, which in layman's terms means when it rains it pours. Good luck tends to breed more good luck, and bad luck does the same. So it was no surprise to Blaise that upon returning home he was confronted by the recently returned Isabella Morgana Zabini, fresh from her trip to Glastonbury and in a full rage.
"What in Morgan's name did you think you were doing, going to Malfoy Manor of all places while I was away?!" she shrieked at Blaise, swooping down on him as soon as he entered their home. As he opened his mouth to answer, she slashed a hand in the air between them, cutting him off. "Do not even begin to answer me yet, Blaise Alexandros Mordred Zabini!" Mother only ever used his full name when she was in high dudgeon like this. "I knew that I was needed at home when I saw a dragonfly devoured by a crane while a blind old Muggle sang an Irish ditty. The omen was quite clear, Blaise, but even I never imagined that the trouble would be that my own flesh and blood would act so foolishly! Moopsy was absolutely terrified that you'd gone off to your death. The poor thing is in the cellar hitting herself with one of number three's ridiculous golf clubs."
Some part of Blaise's mind was amused that even Mother was referring to her husbands by number now, while the rest of him was frantically thinking of a way to get out of this without coming across as a complete and utter idiot. Fortunately it seemed that Mother wasn't done with her tirade, so he still had time to think.
"Honestly, the Malfoys! If you had to go to one place in all of Britain, it would have to be Malfoy Manor! Don't you know what is going on there? I have been keeping you here at home with me for a reason!" Then, just as suddenly as she had born down on him in a rage, she slumped into a chair and buried her face into her hands.
All of the clever excuses and tricks of words fled from Blaise's thoughts as he knelt next to her, taking her hand in his own. "Mother, I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I was foolish. Theo tried to stop me -"
"By Merlin, don't you ever take anyone's advice, my darling?" breathed Isabella with a small smile. She patted his cheek gently. "Dearest, I don't want you involved in what's to come."
"What is coming, Mother?"
Isabella scoffed, turning the pat into a small smack. "Blaise, I did not raise you to be an idiot. You know perfectly well that war is coming again. Even though you don't remember the last war you're smart enough to understand the signs. It does not take a clairvoyant to read people, and that is something that I know you are good at." She sighed and brushed her hair back from her face. "The Death Eaters are just waiting for the proper moment to make their move and then everything will be just as it was sixteen years ago. They will come for you, just as they came for your cousin Victor. I will not have you die on me, do you understand, Blaise? You are mine, not the Dark Lord's. You belong to me."
Blaise nodded fervently. Mother never spoke of Victor anymore, but Blaise knew that he had been her only relative in Britain before his death in the war. Ever since then, Mother had always impressed upon Blaise her rule: choose no sides but one's own.
"Why did you go there, Blaise?" Isabella asked, frowning at him.
Blaise began to explain, telling Mother about the changes he had seen in Draco upon meeting him in Diagon Alley, and how they disturbed him. She nodded slightly at this. "I saw much the same thing in Victor," she murmured. "Understand something, Blaise. There are things that one must do sometimes, to protect oneself or one's family. Until you become as old as I am, it can be difficult to reconcile yourself with those actions. It seems to me that young Mr. Malfoy is learning just what it means to serve the Dark Lord."
"Mrs. Malfoy did seem a little worried about him," admitted Blaise.
Isabella's lips pursed. "You saw Narcissa?" she asked.
"Yes. She answered the door when I went to the Manor. Said that Draco was unavailable. It was actually disturbing, Mother. Her sister was there too. They said some things." Blaise related the odd exchange between the Black sisters, and Mother's face clouded over. She rose from her seat and moved over to a window, staring out at the sky, silent for several long moments. "Mother?" Blaise finally ventured, coming over to stand by her.
She gestured out the window towards the drive. "We have company."
~ ~ ~
"So good to see you again, Madam Zabini. I trust you are well." The slick tone of Lucius Malfoy's voice betrayed nothing except utter insincerity. Malfoy was slipping off his game, Blaise decided. Two years ago he would have been flawless. Azkaban had been rough, it seemed.
"Wonderful, thank you ever so much, dear Lucius," replied Isabella. "What an unexpected pleasure, your visit. And you brought your darling son. How are you, young Draco?"
Malfoy junior smiled tightly, clutching tight to the bag he'd brought with him. It seemed that the Malfoys could not afford to bring house elves on their trips with them anymore. "I am well, thank you, Madam Zabini," Draco murmured.
"We were certainly delighted to hear of your most generous invitation to Draco," continued Lucius, tapping the butt of his cane against his boot. "So very kind to invite him to spend some time at your lovely estate."
Isabella cast a glance towards Blaise, raising a single eyebrow. Blaise was simply relieved that he'd already mentioned Narcissa Malfoy's odd claim that Blaise had come by to invite Draco to the summer manse. "Well we can't have Blaise go the entire summer without being able to spend some time with his dear friends, now can we?" Isabella said to Lucius, snapping her fingers. Moopsy appeared and took Draco's bag. "Moopsy, bring young Master Malfoy's bag to the West Gable room. He will be staying with us for a time."
Lucius smiled at the woman. "It is so important for our boys to grow up with the right influence on each other, isn't it?" he remarked. "Especially in such uncertain times as these. We must all pull together and help each other, mustn’t we?"
"I couldn't have put it better myself," Isabella replied, matching the man's flawless smile. "And for how long shall we be graced with young Draco's presence? We know he must have familial duties to perform over the summer in addition to spending time with friends."
"Oh, let's not worry about such tedious details," said Lucius, waving a dismissive hand. "If we need Draco for anything we'll call on him, and then he can always return afterwards. No need to interrupt his vacation time with Blaise. Let's let the boys spend as much time together as they can, shall we? If that meets your approval, of course, Madam Zabini."
"That sounds lovely, doesn't it Blaise?"
Blaise smiled and nodded, not trusting himself to verbally interrupt the sparring match.
Lucius inclined his head and pulled his gloves back on, rising from the seat Isabella had offered him. "Well, I must be off. So many things to take care of. Draco, you mind Madam Zabini, understand? He is at your service, my lady. Do have a pleasant evening." With that, the blond man took his leave.
Isabella stood by the door, watching him go down the drive to the Apparation point and then vanish. She waved a hand at Blaise, who gestured at Draco. "Come on, Malfoy," he said. "I'll show you to your room." The younger Malfoy followed Blaise out of the room, but as soon as they'd gone into a corridor he gripped Blaise by the shoulder and pushed him roughly against the wall. "Oy, Malfoy," barked Blaise, glowering at him. "Everyone always said you liked it rough, but I never expected to find out for myself so quickly."
"Shut it, Zabini," hissed Draco, eyes narrowed. "What in Hades were you pulling earlier today, going to my house? What part of leave it did you not understand?"
Blaise slapped Draco's hand from his shoulder. "I asked you back at the Alley," he said. "What happened to you? You've changed and it's... puzzling."
Draco huffed and spun around, stalking away from Blaise down the corridor. "It's not of your bloody business, for the last time," he snapped. "Blaise Zabini, always butting in to things that he has no right to. You certainly haven't changed a bit."
Hurrying to keep pace, Blaise scoffed. "And why should I have changed? Nothing's happened to me to give me a reason. And this isn't about me, Draco. I want to know what happened to you."
"Why do you care?!" shouted Draco, stopping and shoving Blaise again. "For fuck's sake, Blaise, isn't it supposed to be the Slytherin thing to do to look out for yourself? You've never taken it upon yourself to pry into my personal life before, so why start now? I don't understand why all of a sudden you’re poking your nose in when for the first time I don't want you anywhere near me!"
For the first time? Blaise shoved that tidbit away for later contemplation while at the same time gripping Draco by the wrists. "Because, regardless of how much of a git you've always been you are a friend, and I'm not some kind of cur who doesn't understand honour. Just because I look out for myself doesn't mean that I don't care about what happens to my friends. You never used to be like this, and something that could change you so much has to be big. Everyone knows you're involved in whatever happened that night at Hogwarts."
"Shut your mouth, Zabini."
"War is coming, I can tell, and you're part of the puzzle. Something that is big enough to break through the thick ego of Draco bloody Malfoy is something that I want to know about."
"For Merlin's sake!" Draco cried, flinging Blaise's hands away and slumping against a wall. "Is it too much to ask that you just stay out of this, Blaise?" He heaved a deep breath, struggling to regain composure. "I don't want anyone else involved, alright? Could you just... I don't know, be thankful that you don't have to have your mother make up stories just to get your father to agree to send you out of the house for awhile? Could you be grateful that your home isn't crawling with people who would kill you just for looking at them wrong if your aunt didn't still command some respect? Please, couldn't you have just stayed out of this so I wouldn't have to be responsible?"
Blaise was stunned. Before he'd just thought that Draco had perhaps matured a little, learned a bit of self control because he'd been afraid of something, but now it seemed that he was well and truly terrified. "I... I thought you would have liked having people like Bellatrix Lestrange at your house," he murmured. "You were always going about Death Eater this and Dark Lord that at school."
"Ending this conversation now," muttered Draco, pushing himself back up the wall. "You blew it, anyway. You got yourself involved, and now I'm here to keep an 'eye' on you and your mother. Father remembers how she stayed neutral during the last war, and I'm apparently here to keep her remembering where the true power lies. You're lucky you come from a First Family, or you'd already have been targeted."
A chill ran through Blaise at the flat tones in Draco's voice. "Targeted?"
"You're a big boy, Zabini, figure it out," Draco snapped. "You better decide where your loyalties are. Especially after tomorrow. Which way is my room?"
Blaise silently gestured in the right direction, and Draco quickly hurried off. After a moment, Isabella came out from around a corner, laying a hand on Blaise's shoulder. "I see what's happening now," she said.
"What's that, Mother?"
"Narcissa Malfoy got her husband to send the boy here by making us look like blood traitors. She was getting him out of the Manor. Now we know where the Dark Lord is staying."
Blaise frowned slightly. "What did he mean by 'tomorrow,' Mother?"
Isabella gazed down the corridor where Draco had gone. "I suppose we'll have to wait and see."
~ ~ ~
Part II
Title: Variables and Change
Author: ariensilverleaf
Beta: passthebutter who is, incidentally, awesome.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Blaise / Draco, implied Draco / others
Word Count: 12300
Summary: Blaise Zabini is of the opinion that people, like maths, should always be easy to figure out when all the variables are known. After running into Draco Malfoy, though, everything is thrown out of control and change is as inevitable as the war that is coming.
Warnings: Vague dom/sub relationship, implied non-con, mention of bondage, boys are just a little shy of 18 during the majority of the story
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and its characters are the property of J.K. Rowling, and I lay claim to nothing but my own ideas. She makes the money, I just play.
Notes: DH-compliant, surprisingly, though the epilogue won’t exist in this universe. This was originally written for the 2008 HP Valensmut fic exchange for tourniquette99. The original post can be found here.
Part II can be found here.
~ ~ ~
Variables and Change: Part I
People, Blaise Zabini had decided long ago, were like maths. Of course he'd never expressed this opinion to anyone except for Mother and Theo that one time, as the unwashed masses had no real idea what maths actually was, but it was true. People. Maths. It all made sense when you just put the equations together just so.
Granted, people weren't like ordinary Muggle-style maths. No wonder the Muggles had no idea what was ever going on; they didn't even understand transcendental Calculus or the variable properties of an ever-changing runic digit. People were more like Arithmancy, which was to say that they were proper maths: difficult to figure out at first until you knew all the variables. To properly predict how their equations would shift over time one had to, of course, take into account external factors such as Answold's Fifth Law of Space Time Mutation, but once you had all the numbers everything became crystal clear.
Really, after figuring out one personal equation, most people looked much the same to Blaise. People were only ever interesting if, like the better problems in Arithmancy, they contained a new kind of variable. If something changed unexpectedly, and you were forced to figure out what that change exactly was, what had caused it and where it had come from. Changes like that introduced all sorts of new variables into an old equation that could turn a simple problem into a conundrum that could take days or even weeks to properly solve. Those were the incidents that Blaise lived for. Everything else was just boring.
So it was that the summer after Dumbledore's death had been, for the most part, rather dull. One would think that an abrupt change like the death of a figurehead like the old coot would affect people in new and exciting ways, but it seemed that everyone was really acting the same as ever. The Ministry types ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, like they always did during a crisis. The First Families like the Parkinsons and the Flints made a big to-do about paying the proper respects while obviously plotting to take advantage of the situation. The Aurors strutted about trying to look as though they had everything under control, the Obliviators were clucking their tongues about all the work they had to do to keep the Muggles in the dark, and the Unspeakables were of course tight-lipped. Business as usual.
Mother was, predictably, being unpredictable. Convinced as usual that the answer lay not in being three steps ahead of the game but rather in jumping off to the side and making up new rules as she went along, she had taken it upon herself to make her decisions each day by casting different runestones and piecing together plans by interpreting random passages from random books all over the house. Only yesterday she had decided that she would make a pilgrimage to Glastonbury Tor because a runestone had clinked against an apple she'd been planning to eat for breakfast and she had interpreted that as a sign. Of course then she hadn't eaten the apple after all and instead gone for a plate of blueberry scones while insisting that the apple be burnt to prevent ill spirits from using it against her. Blaise loved her, but he'd long since given up on trying to understand how her maths worked. If there was one person in the universe who could defy logic, it was Isabella Morgana Zabini nee Locklore Josiah MacDuff Sawwan St. Clair van Ewingthorne de Leoncoeur of the Most Noble House of Zabini. The mere fact that she actually managed to keep the full name on her calling cards and still come off as classy was mind-boggling enough.
So while Mother was away, Blaise had decided to have an evening out on the town. It was rare that he had opportunity to get out from under Isabella's wing and visit Diagon Alley on his own, and Theo had mentioned that he'd seen a new book on four-dimensional trigonometry at Flourish and Blotts. Diagon Alley was certainly less boisterous than usual, although Blaise wasn't sure that was such a bad thing. A lot of the shops were closed down and people looked harried and worried. Impending war, it seemed, was bad for business. The bookstore was still thriving, though. Even Death Eaters needed to read from time to time, Blaise decided with a smirk.
He was about to enter the shop when out of the corner of his eye he noticed a quick flash of white. Something niggled his mind about it, though he couldn't quite put his finger on why. It seemed out of place. Turning to get a better look he saw a figure robed in black heading into Knockturn Alley. The white flash had evidently come from the head of blond hair. Only two kinds of people in Diagon Alley had that kind of hair - albino vampires and Malfoys. Though there wasn't much difference, Mother would be tempted to say. It looked like Draco Malfoy was alive after all.
The bookshop momentarily forgotten, Blaise quickly followed along after Malfoy. No one he knew had seen the boy since the night Dumbledore died, and rumours had been flying rampant about him ever since. Everyone knew that Harry Potter had announced that Snape had killed the old man so no one really suspected that Draco was guilty of murder, but clearly he'd been part of the nasty business that had gone on that night. Draco had been a friend, of sorts, for a long time. They'd grown up together, although that didn't mean very much among the First Families, since the number of children was always so small that most of them had known each other all their lives. They had never been confidants, like Blaise and Theo were, but Draco had been a constant in Blaise's life for awhile and that had been thrown off all the past year, since Draco had been acting so peculiar right up until he'd disappeared. Blaise was used to knowing exactly how Draco would behave in any given situation and now he wasn't entirely certain. It was vexing, and he intended to find out what was going on.
Going round the corner into the Alley, Blaise saw Draco slip into Borgin and Burkes. Getting close to the building, Blaise surreptitiously peered into the window to see Draco handing a package to old Borgin. The wizened old shopkeep paled as he looked inside the parcel and tried to hand it back to Draco, who glowered and backed away. Sighing, Blaise muttered a small amplification spell and touched the tip of his wand to the edge of the glass. Slowly the voices from inside the shop got a little louder, tinny and sounding as though from far away, but audible.
"... expects you to do your part, do you understand?" Draco voice hissed. The boy sounded tired and angry, and there was some other quality in his voice that Blaise couldn't quite place. Interesting.
Borgin shook his head and again tried to give the package back. "I support the cause," he muttered, "but this is asking too much of me."
"Dammit, old man, do you think I care?" snapped Draco. "I didn't come to argue with you, understand?"
Sighing, Borgin nodded slowly. "I see I have no choice in the matter and - wait, who is that?"
Damn, thought Blaise, drawing his wand away from the window and pressing flat against the wall. Old Borgin had looked toward the window when he'd said that. Clearly he'd noticed Blaise snooping. This couldn't end well.
Before Blaise could withdraw from the Alley altogether, Draco burst out of the shop, his wand in front of him. Blaise raised his own wand, and the two of them stared at each other for a moment, silent as Death himself.
"Zabini," breathed Draco finally. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"
"Might ask you the same thing, Malfoy," replied Blaise, arching an eyebrow. "Even though the Ministry hasn't officially put a warrant out for you, everyone knows they're looking. Seems rather odd to see you out for a bit of shopping."
Draco glowered in response, his wand still pointed directly at Blaise. "Bugger off, Zabini, and stay away from me," he growled. "Forget that you saw me here."
"Rather hard to do that, considering I haven't seen you since that night in June," continued Blaise, unrelenting. "What have you been up to, I wonder? Taking a vacation for your health, I suppose? Perhaps on a tour of the magical wonders of the world?" Goading Draco into an argument was always the easiest way to get information out of him. Blaise had never known the boy to be able to resist a fight.
Taking a deep, heavy breath, Draco slowly lowered his wand. "Leave it, alright?" he said. "I don't want to talk to you about it." Deliberately he turned away from Blaise and started heading back towards Diagon Alley, pulling his hood up over his head.
Blaise was stunned for a moment. Draco Malfoy, backing down from something? What in Avalon was going on here? "Draco, wait!" he called. "Please." Draco stopped, but didn't turn around. "What happened to you? We've been worried, Theo and I."
Turning slightly, Draco met his gaze. "You don't want to know, alright, Blaise?" he said. "I'm sorry you saw me. Just forget it. This didn't happen. I have to go." Turning again, this time quick with finality, Draco hurried off, leaving Blaise standing alone in the middle of Knockturn Alley, staring after him.
"Curiouser and curiouser," he muttered. Now he knew what that other sound had been in Draco's voice when he'd been talking to Borgin. It was fear. Not the everyday kind of fear that Blaise had heard in countless voices while at school, Draco's included, but a kind of fear that Blaise was unfamiliar with. Draco Malfoy was afraid of himself.
~ ~ ~
"Well it certainly is curious, Blaise, but I'm not really sure exactly what you expect me to say." Theo Nott's voice was exasperated as he regarded Blaise through the Floo while Blaise paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. "I'd like to know what happened to him too, but it's his own business and it's not as though he was your bosom chum or anything."
"That's not the point, Theo," snapped Blaise.
Sighing, Theo propped his head on one hand. "What is the point then? You've been babbling for the past half hour and not arriving at any conclusion. That's not like you."
Blaise came to a halt, staring out the nearby window. Theo was right, this wasn't like him. If Draco Malfoy wanted to play cryptic spy games and pretend that he didn't know his friends from school, that was his business. Logically, Blaise knew this, but he couldn't stop worrying over the problem like a Crup with a bone. Something had happened to change Draco rather drastically, and Blaise couldn't rest until he knew what it was. "It just worries me that someone we've known since we were in nappies could be altered so much without my knowing how," he muttered. "Something awful must have happened to him."
"And?" asked Theo, yawning slightly.
"Oh don't pretend that you don't care at all, Theo Nott," Blaise said with a glare. "You don't fool me. As much as he is a prat, he is our friend. And think about it for a moment. If something could change the self-styled Prince of Slytherin, egomaniacal lord of all he surveys, it must be big. There are going to be consequences that will eventually come to us. We should know about it."
Theo pondered that for a moment, his shadowed eyes watching Blaise resume pacing again. "Alright, let's say that something did happen to him," he finally said. "What do you intend to do? Clearly you're going to do something, Blaise."
"I'm going to go see him," replied Blaise. "I'm going to go to Malfoy Manor."
Eyes wide, Theo raised his head. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asked. "Don't just do this because you're a bored rich boy, Blaise. Everyone knows that something is going on at Malfoy Manor."
"And I want to know what that is," said Blaise with finality.
~ ~ ~
Malfoy Manor looked much the same as ever to Blaise. The same ridiculous peacocks that Lucius Malfoy was obsessed with, the same perfectly manicured lawns, the same pristine gleaming white gravel drive leading up to the doors. Blaise had been here many times in his life; all the First Families spent most of the year moving from Manor to Manor for the various celebrations of the calendar. Of course the social season had been rather slow since the incarceration of so many prominent citizens after the debacle at the Department of Mysteries last year. The last time he'd been to Malfoy Manor was for the Malfoy's New Year party to ring in 1996. He and Theo had spent most of the night avoiding that old toad Umbridge, who'd managed somehow to secure herself an invitation, ugly social climber that she was. Draco had, of course, been the perfect Malfoy gentleman in front of his parents and had spent the night being solicitous to the bat. Mother had brought husband seven with them, the French one if Blaise recalled correctly, and that had been the night that he'd had that horrible accident. It seemed that a poisonous spider had made a home in one of the Malfoy's gardens, and Lord de Leoncoeur blundered right into it while out trysting with Mother in the dark. Tragic.
Blaise had Apparated to the gates and rung the bell. As expected, a house elf materialized after a short moment and took his calling card, allowing him to come up the drive to the main entrance. Unexpectedly, he had to stand on the step waiting for several long minutes before anyone came for him. Finally the door cracked open, and Blaise was startled to see Narcissa Malfoy herself standing there. It was a horrible breach of etiquette for the mistress of the house to be answering the door, and if Mrs. Malfoy was anything she was an advocate of the rules of high society.
Recovering his composure, Blaise dipped into a short bow. "Mrs. Malfoy," he said smoothly. "Thank you for receiving me."
"The Zabini boy," murmured Narcissa. "What are you doing here?" She made no move to allow him into the house.
"I... had thought to pay a visit to see Draco," started Blaise, thrown off by the older woman's reticence. "I've not seen him since he left school, and -"
"Draco isn't here right now," Narcissa interrupted. "You should go, Mr. Zabini."
"Sister darling?" called a voice from behind the woman, and Narcissa tensed, casting a warning look at Blaise. "Who is that?" Another woman came up behind Mrs. Malfoy, looking over her shoulder. Blaise realized after a moment that he recognized her from the wanted posters scattered over Diagon Alley. "Why, this boy is the spitting image of old Isabella Zabini," exclaimed Bellatrix Lestrange. "This must be her son Blaise that I've heard so much about."
Blaise dipped into another short bow, determined not to show any adverse reaction to the convict's presence. "Madam Lestrange," he said. "It is an honour to meet you."
Bellatrix smiled down at him, and Blaise wondered at how perfectly ordinary she looked. Perhaps a bit wasted away, and there was a touch of an unhealthy gleam in her eyes, but otherwise she looked like a normal pureblood woman in her family's estate. "So well-mannered, isn't he, Cissy?" she crooned. "Is he here to see Draco?"
"Yes, Bella," said Narcissa, still regarding Blaise, though calculatingly now. "He came by to issue Draco an invitation to come to Zabini Manor, isn't that so, Mr. Zabini?"
Blinking once, Blaise decided to go along with whatever game Mrs. Malfoy was playing. "Yes, Mrs. Malfoy."
"How sweet," remarked Bellatrix. "How unfortunate that wee Draco is all... tied up at the moment."
Narcissa flinched a little, but still held Blaise's gaze. "Perhaps it's for the best, anyway," she said. "I know your Mother probably would not approve of you spending time with Draco. We all know that she does not hold our company in high favour."
"What do you mean, Cissy?" Bellatrix turned on her sister, all pretense of joviality gone now.
"Surely you know, Bella, that Isabella Zabini has never been an avid supporter of certain activities that you and my husband partake in."
"Is this true, boy?"
Blaise darted his gaze back and forth between the two women, nervously licking his lips. This was far more than he'd expected to have to deal with. Perhaps Theo had been right to suggest that coming here was a bad idea. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Mrs. Malfoy," he said, trying to salvage the situation.
Bellatrix stared him down with an icy glare. "Isabella never knew what was good for her or for her family," she growled out. "She'd do well to learn that her behaviour affects not only her but her son as well. I'm sure that Lucius would agree with me, wouldn't he, Cissy?"
"Yes, Bella, certainly."
Spinning on her heel, Bellatrix stalked back into the house, clearly of the opinion that the conversation was over. Narcissa regarded Blaise appraisingly for another moment, and then nodded at him. "Good day, Mr. Zabini."
"Good day, Mrs. Malfoy." Narcissa closed the door and left Blaise standing bewildered on the steps, wondering what he'd just gotten himself into.
~ ~ ~
Ivegenino's Third Law of Metaphysics states that there is a cascading effect on the actions of witches and wizards when the variable of luck is factored in. The luck factor tends to amplify exponentially based on the first action that it was tied into, which in layman's terms means when it rains it pours. Good luck tends to breed more good luck, and bad luck does the same. So it was no surprise to Blaise that upon returning home he was confronted by the recently returned Isabella Morgana Zabini, fresh from her trip to Glastonbury and in a full rage.
"What in Morgan's name did you think you were doing, going to Malfoy Manor of all places while I was away?!" she shrieked at Blaise, swooping down on him as soon as he entered their home. As he opened his mouth to answer, she slashed a hand in the air between them, cutting him off. "Do not even begin to answer me yet, Blaise Alexandros Mordred Zabini!" Mother only ever used his full name when she was in high dudgeon like this. "I knew that I was needed at home when I saw a dragonfly devoured by a crane while a blind old Muggle sang an Irish ditty. The omen was quite clear, Blaise, but even I never imagined that the trouble would be that my own flesh and blood would act so foolishly! Moopsy was absolutely terrified that you'd gone off to your death. The poor thing is in the cellar hitting herself with one of number three's ridiculous golf clubs."
Some part of Blaise's mind was amused that even Mother was referring to her husbands by number now, while the rest of him was frantically thinking of a way to get out of this without coming across as a complete and utter idiot. Fortunately it seemed that Mother wasn't done with her tirade, so he still had time to think.
"Honestly, the Malfoys! If you had to go to one place in all of Britain, it would have to be Malfoy Manor! Don't you know what is going on there? I have been keeping you here at home with me for a reason!" Then, just as suddenly as she had born down on him in a rage, she slumped into a chair and buried her face into her hands.
All of the clever excuses and tricks of words fled from Blaise's thoughts as he knelt next to her, taking her hand in his own. "Mother, I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I was foolish. Theo tried to stop me -"
"By Merlin, don't you ever take anyone's advice, my darling?" breathed Isabella with a small smile. She patted his cheek gently. "Dearest, I don't want you involved in what's to come."
"What is coming, Mother?"
Isabella scoffed, turning the pat into a small smack. "Blaise, I did not raise you to be an idiot. You know perfectly well that war is coming again. Even though you don't remember the last war you're smart enough to understand the signs. It does not take a clairvoyant to read people, and that is something that I know you are good at." She sighed and brushed her hair back from her face. "The Death Eaters are just waiting for the proper moment to make their move and then everything will be just as it was sixteen years ago. They will come for you, just as they came for your cousin Victor. I will not have you die on me, do you understand, Blaise? You are mine, not the Dark Lord's. You belong to me."
Blaise nodded fervently. Mother never spoke of Victor anymore, but Blaise knew that he had been her only relative in Britain before his death in the war. Ever since then, Mother had always impressed upon Blaise her rule: choose no sides but one's own.
"Why did you go there, Blaise?" Isabella asked, frowning at him.
Blaise began to explain, telling Mother about the changes he had seen in Draco upon meeting him in Diagon Alley, and how they disturbed him. She nodded slightly at this. "I saw much the same thing in Victor," she murmured. "Understand something, Blaise. There are things that one must do sometimes, to protect oneself or one's family. Until you become as old as I am, it can be difficult to reconcile yourself with those actions. It seems to me that young Mr. Malfoy is learning just what it means to serve the Dark Lord."
"Mrs. Malfoy did seem a little worried about him," admitted Blaise.
Isabella's lips pursed. "You saw Narcissa?" she asked.
"Yes. She answered the door when I went to the Manor. Said that Draco was unavailable. It was actually disturbing, Mother. Her sister was there too. They said some things." Blaise related the odd exchange between the Black sisters, and Mother's face clouded over. She rose from her seat and moved over to a window, staring out at the sky, silent for several long moments. "Mother?" Blaise finally ventured, coming over to stand by her.
She gestured out the window towards the drive. "We have company."
~ ~ ~
"So good to see you again, Madam Zabini. I trust you are well." The slick tone of Lucius Malfoy's voice betrayed nothing except utter insincerity. Malfoy was slipping off his game, Blaise decided. Two years ago he would have been flawless. Azkaban had been rough, it seemed.
"Wonderful, thank you ever so much, dear Lucius," replied Isabella. "What an unexpected pleasure, your visit. And you brought your darling son. How are you, young Draco?"
Malfoy junior smiled tightly, clutching tight to the bag he'd brought with him. It seemed that the Malfoys could not afford to bring house elves on their trips with them anymore. "I am well, thank you, Madam Zabini," Draco murmured.
"We were certainly delighted to hear of your most generous invitation to Draco," continued Lucius, tapping the butt of his cane against his boot. "So very kind to invite him to spend some time at your lovely estate."
Isabella cast a glance towards Blaise, raising a single eyebrow. Blaise was simply relieved that he'd already mentioned Narcissa Malfoy's odd claim that Blaise had come by to invite Draco to the summer manse. "Well we can't have Blaise go the entire summer without being able to spend some time with his dear friends, now can we?" Isabella said to Lucius, snapping her fingers. Moopsy appeared and took Draco's bag. "Moopsy, bring young Master Malfoy's bag to the West Gable room. He will be staying with us for a time."
Lucius smiled at the woman. "It is so important for our boys to grow up with the right influence on each other, isn't it?" he remarked. "Especially in such uncertain times as these. We must all pull together and help each other, mustn’t we?"
"I couldn't have put it better myself," Isabella replied, matching the man's flawless smile. "And for how long shall we be graced with young Draco's presence? We know he must have familial duties to perform over the summer in addition to spending time with friends."
"Oh, let's not worry about such tedious details," said Lucius, waving a dismissive hand. "If we need Draco for anything we'll call on him, and then he can always return afterwards. No need to interrupt his vacation time with Blaise. Let's let the boys spend as much time together as they can, shall we? If that meets your approval, of course, Madam Zabini."
"That sounds lovely, doesn't it Blaise?"
Blaise smiled and nodded, not trusting himself to verbally interrupt the sparring match.
Lucius inclined his head and pulled his gloves back on, rising from the seat Isabella had offered him. "Well, I must be off. So many things to take care of. Draco, you mind Madam Zabini, understand? He is at your service, my lady. Do have a pleasant evening." With that, the blond man took his leave.
Isabella stood by the door, watching him go down the drive to the Apparation point and then vanish. She waved a hand at Blaise, who gestured at Draco. "Come on, Malfoy," he said. "I'll show you to your room." The younger Malfoy followed Blaise out of the room, but as soon as they'd gone into a corridor he gripped Blaise by the shoulder and pushed him roughly against the wall. "Oy, Malfoy," barked Blaise, glowering at him. "Everyone always said you liked it rough, but I never expected to find out for myself so quickly."
"Shut it, Zabini," hissed Draco, eyes narrowed. "What in Hades were you pulling earlier today, going to my house? What part of leave it did you not understand?"
Blaise slapped Draco's hand from his shoulder. "I asked you back at the Alley," he said. "What happened to you? You've changed and it's... puzzling."
Draco huffed and spun around, stalking away from Blaise down the corridor. "It's not of your bloody business, for the last time," he snapped. "Blaise Zabini, always butting in to things that he has no right to. You certainly haven't changed a bit."
Hurrying to keep pace, Blaise scoffed. "And why should I have changed? Nothing's happened to me to give me a reason. And this isn't about me, Draco. I want to know what happened to you."
"Why do you care?!" shouted Draco, stopping and shoving Blaise again. "For fuck's sake, Blaise, isn't it supposed to be the Slytherin thing to do to look out for yourself? You've never taken it upon yourself to pry into my personal life before, so why start now? I don't understand why all of a sudden you’re poking your nose in when for the first time I don't want you anywhere near me!"
For the first time? Blaise shoved that tidbit away for later contemplation while at the same time gripping Draco by the wrists. "Because, regardless of how much of a git you've always been you are a friend, and I'm not some kind of cur who doesn't understand honour. Just because I look out for myself doesn't mean that I don't care about what happens to my friends. You never used to be like this, and something that could change you so much has to be big. Everyone knows you're involved in whatever happened that night at Hogwarts."
"Shut your mouth, Zabini."
"War is coming, I can tell, and you're part of the puzzle. Something that is big enough to break through the thick ego of Draco bloody Malfoy is something that I want to know about."
"For Merlin's sake!" Draco cried, flinging Blaise's hands away and slumping against a wall. "Is it too much to ask that you just stay out of this, Blaise?" He heaved a deep breath, struggling to regain composure. "I don't want anyone else involved, alright? Could you just... I don't know, be thankful that you don't have to have your mother make up stories just to get your father to agree to send you out of the house for awhile? Could you be grateful that your home isn't crawling with people who would kill you just for looking at them wrong if your aunt didn't still command some respect? Please, couldn't you have just stayed out of this so I wouldn't have to be responsible?"
Blaise was stunned. Before he'd just thought that Draco had perhaps matured a little, learned a bit of self control because he'd been afraid of something, but now it seemed that he was well and truly terrified. "I... I thought you would have liked having people like Bellatrix Lestrange at your house," he murmured. "You were always going about Death Eater this and Dark Lord that at school."
"Ending this conversation now," muttered Draco, pushing himself back up the wall. "You blew it, anyway. You got yourself involved, and now I'm here to keep an 'eye' on you and your mother. Father remembers how she stayed neutral during the last war, and I'm apparently here to keep her remembering where the true power lies. You're lucky you come from a First Family, or you'd already have been targeted."
A chill ran through Blaise at the flat tones in Draco's voice. "Targeted?"
"You're a big boy, Zabini, figure it out," Draco snapped. "You better decide where your loyalties are. Especially after tomorrow. Which way is my room?"
Blaise silently gestured in the right direction, and Draco quickly hurried off. After a moment, Isabella came out from around a corner, laying a hand on Blaise's shoulder. "I see what's happening now," she said.
"What's that, Mother?"
"Narcissa Malfoy got her husband to send the boy here by making us look like blood traitors. She was getting him out of the Manor. Now we know where the Dark Lord is staying."
Blaise frowned slightly. "What did he mean by 'tomorrow,' Mother?"
Isabella gazed down the corridor where Draco had gone. "I suppose we'll have to wait and see."
~ ~ ~
Part II