Brave New World

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Chapter Nine



The air so high up in the astronomy tower was crisp and cold, perfect for clearing the remaining anger from Harry’s head but it still left him with his thoughts. It was barely the third week of school and yet so much had changed and he wasn’t sure what to do with those changes. New professors and learning new things were adjustments he didn’t mind as they would help him survive the War.



Being introduced to the traditions of the Wizarding world was even better, finally he was feeling more connected to his magic. Granted there was still so much he didn’t know, and only so much he could learn on his own and from the book Tracey had given him but he wasn’t quite ready to reach out for help. He didn’t know if his reasoning was simply restraint or the way he had grown up. The Dursley’s didn’t encourage him to seek knowledge or ask questions and there were so many people watching his every move he didn’t want to give more fodder for the gossipmongers.



He didn’t like the strain between him and his friends or the disappointment whenever he thought of Dumbledore. It seemed like there was a vast distance between them now. Hermione and Ron were dating and he wasn’t apart of that, couldn’t be. No matter what either of them said, it altered the dynamics of their relationship. There were secrets he wanted to share with them, but he wasn’t ready for their reactions. Hermione would want to examine and prod until she could place things into their proper categories that she could understand. Ron would offer his support but there would be a layer of envy and anger beneath the surface that would eventually explode just as he had tonight about Hermione’s birthday party.



His trust in Dumbledore was shaken, never before would he have considered yelling at the Headmaster the way he had the other day. He just couldn’t tolerate being treated like a child with no opinions or being forced into choices he would never make. Especially when they expected him to be a man in the very next moment and destroy the most powerful Dark Lord in the history of the Wizarding world. Dumbledore couldn’t have it both ways and not expect him to protest. As matters stood, the choice was out of his hands regardless, as Voldemort was going to keep coming for him until one of them was dead.



There was no resolution and for the moment all he could do was set the matters to the side and wait to see how the rest of the year would unfold but that didn’t mean he wasn’t tired of it all.



“Meow.”



Harry glanced over at the feline greeting and felt a smile curve his lips. “Nefertiti. What are you doing up here this time of night?” He moved his arm so the Mau could climb into his lap. She stretched briefly before settling down, nudging his hand for a rub. “Of course your majesty, I did say you were welcome at any time.”



“Does that only apply to Nefertiti, or am I welcome as well?”



Blaise’s deep silken tone matched the composed expression on his handsome face. He should have been startled to find himself no longer alone. “You move quietly, I didn’t even hear you.”



“I think maybe you were very deep in thought,” Blaise offered instead, making his way from the staircase to where he sat at the edge of the tower with his feet hanging over the side. “Should I leave you to them?”



“No,” he answered immediately, gesturing for Blaise to join him. “I’m probably better off not spending too much time inside my head.”



“Inner scrutiny does tend to lead to melancholy.” Blaise took his time unbuttoning the bottom of his cloak before joining him. “But this is a good place to come and think. Quiet. Open to the vastness of the night sky. It can leave you feeling rather small in the grand scheme of the universe. Sometimes I need that when I begin to take myself too seriously.”



Harry watched him, noting the way the shadows played across the Slytherin’s features. The slope of his nose, skin pulled taut over the elegant ridge of his cheekbones, the way he held his head high with pride. He was so different from most of the other boys their age, and that only made him more interesting.



“So, Harry, what brings you up here tonight?”



“I guess I wanted to talk with my godfather,” he sighed, looking back up into the sky. “You can’t see it from here very well,” he paused pointing over the Forbidden Forest in the direction of London to the brightest star in the sky. “The Canis Major constellation and the most brilliant star is Sirius. That was his name, Sirius Black.” He managed a small smile in memory, “My godfather’s family, the Blacks, they had a habit of naming their children after constellations. He was the best of them all and I suppose that star up there only agrees with me.”



“The dog star,” Blaise murmured before turning his dark intense gaze to focus on his face.



“I suppose you heard the rumors about him, how he betrayed my parents to Voldemort.”



“Harry, most of Slytherin knew the truth of Sirius Black. Malfoy has no concept of the word discretion.”



“His father would know, wouldn’t he?” Harry spat out, remembering Lucius Malfoy’s presence at Voldemort’s resurrection, at the Department of Mysteries. “And Malfoy would waste no time preening about knowing a truth concerning anything that would hurt me.”



“He does seem to hate you.”



“Draco Malfoy has no concept of what true hatred is. He’s a spoiled arrogant bully and he annoys the hell out of me.”



Blaise quirked his eyebrow questioningly, “So you don’t feel the same?”



“In the bigger picture, with everyone who wants to kill me, Malfoy rates up there with a bothersome housefly. You swat those away and move on.”



“So what happened to your godfather?”



He couldn’t give Blaise all the information about last year, especially not his connection to Voldemort, so he gave him the general idea; being tricked into going to the Ministry, the Death Eaters lying in wait, and Bellatrix firing the curse at Sirius. The veil.



“When he fell into the veil, I wanted to go with him.” His voice broke on the words because it was the first time he had actually said them aloud. “In that moment, I didn’t care about my friends, the Wizarding world, Voldemort, none of it. In that moment nothing else mattered to me but Sirius slipping away. If I could have grabbed hold of him, I would have followed him and every thing else be damned.”



His glaze clouded with the tears he normally would have pushed aside, but this time he didn’t bother, feeling them trail down the side of his face. The wild grief that usually ripped through him at the thought of Sirius wasn’t so strong but was more like an old would that ached on a rainy day. The cat in his lap seemed to sense his feelings, purring as she rose onto her hind legs to offer a lick against his jaw in sympathy.



A hand came down over his, fingers long and slightly calloused, and he was filled with feelings of warmth and protection that for once he didn’t bother to question. He simply accepted.



“I won’t insult you by trying to make you believe it’s not your fault. I’m sure you’ve heard that before. No matter how you were manipulated, you’ll always feel at least partly responsible.”



“I have to live with that,” he spoke up after regaining control of his emotions. “The guilt of how it’s partly my fault that my godfather died. But I think what’s worse sometimes is how I would have simply given up. I wonder if my parents or Sirius would be ashamed.”



“My mother would say there is nothing I could ever do that would make her stop loving me. I’m pretty sure most parents feel that way about their children, if they’re good parents. Considering your godfather came after you that night regardless of the threat to himself, I think he loved you very much. He would never be ashamed of you Harry.”



“It probably sounds strange, that I would give up so much for someone I hadn’t known long. We didn’t meet again until third year when he escaped Azkaban and then he was on the run from the Ministry most of fourth year. But that’s not true. There was something inside of me that remembered Sirius. I don’t know if it was a memory or the bond from being my godfather but I recognized Sirius.



“The Weasley’s are great and they have done everything to make me feel welcome in their home and a part of their family. But at the end of the day, they’re not my family. A part of me always feels like an outsider and it isn’t anything they’ve done, it’s just how I feel.”



He needed for Blaise to understand because these weren\'t things he could ever say to Ron or even Hermione. These were private, painful thoughts that would hurt feelings and that was the last thing he wanted to do. But he needed someone to understand and hoped that maybe that person could be Blaise.



“Ron and Hermione don\'t really understand and I hope they never have to. I can\'t say they have never experienced death but they don\'t know what it means to be alone. With Sirius, I felt like I could finally have a family of my own. Maybe even a small piece of my parents because they chose Sirius to take care of me if something should happen to them.”



Harry looked from the hands that lay clenched together in his lap, up into dark fathomless eyes, throat aching with despair. “And now that’s all gone and some days I don’t know how to bear it.”



A muscle flicked in Blaise’s jaw just as he reached out, his fingers cool as they brushed along the side of his face removing the remaining wetness of his tears. Harry frowned as he couldn’t remember anyone ever touching him with such care. Tingling warmth unfolded in the pit of his stomach, becoming familiar, stronger, each time he experienced it. From nowhere came a yearning, it caught in his chest making his heart hammer against his ribs. There was something in Blaise’s expression that he just couldn’t understand, so disconcerted, he forced himself to look away biting his lip, with nerves.



“I don’t know why I’m bothering you with all this.”



The hand on his face slipped away but the other in his lap held on for a moment longer before giving a gentle squeeze and moving away. “Maybe because I didn’t know him, so there are no expectations. Or because I’m not invested the same way your friends are, so you have no reason to hide your feelings from me.”



“Maybe,” Harry hedged, because he didn’t know if he ever would have shared this with Hermione and Ron. So what made Blaise different?



“You never did say why you needed to talk to Sirius.”



Harry gave Blaise a grateful grin, as he needed to set aside his grief again, but this time it was a little easier. Maybe one day he would be able to think of Sirius and only remember the good things and not everything he had lost. “Ron is angry with me because I decided to give Hermione a coming of age ceremony this Thursday.”



Blaise couldn’t hold back a look of surprise at Harry’s words. Harry didn’t say a birthday party; he said a coming of age ceremony, which in regards to the old ways meant very different things. He was pleased to hear him say it that way because it meant Harry didn’t simply push Tracey’s book aside but was reading it. Thinking about the information.



He had thought perhaps Harry was reading the book, given that morning he came down to breakfast looking a great deal neater than his usual appearance. A discrete glance told him after Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table, he had gave the morning blessing. He hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up but so far Harry had come down alone early each morning for breakfast in the same manner. It was different from openly practicing the old traditions but it was definitely a step in the right direction.



Now he wanted to perform a coming of age ceremony for Granger. He wondered who all Harry would invite and wished he could be there. The magic released was bound to be stunning to witness.



“I don’t believe the Weasleys practice the old ways Harry,” he offered tentatively, to see how Harry would react. “So perhaps he doesn’t understand and just believes it to be a regular party.”



“But it’s not the party itself he has a problem with, it’s the money involved. It’s been an issue with us a lot lately. I thought it was better last year but it can’t be if he’s this sensitive about me doing this. He can’t be worried that I like Hermione because that’s just ridiculous, she’s like a sister.”



“It’s difficult coming from a pureblood family without the resources most families have.”



“I know the Weasley’s aren’t exactly wealthy but I just don’t understand. He has parents who love him. Brothers and a sister who would walk through fire for him. I would give anything to have a normal life that he has.”



“Ron didn’t grow up the way you did Harry. You see a loving family, a girlfriend, all the so called normal things you would love to have. Most people want to be anything but normal. For most people normal is boring, they live normal everyday.”



“But he knows what my life is like, why would he want that?”



Blaise had to laugh at the incredulous expression on Harry’s face. From his point of view is life probably was horrible but an outsider wouldn’t see things that way. “You’re a pretty hard act to follow. Smart, attractive, famous. Youngest seeker in a century who can do things on a broom that makes most quidditch players envious. Wealthy, powerful. You have the ear of Professor Dumbledore who is notably one of most powerful wizards of our time.”



“And I’m an orphan with relatives who hate the very thought of me and I have a madman trying to kill me. The press alternately praise and revile me and the people around me tend to end up in grave danger.”



“You can’t have the yin without the yang,” he shrugged benignly, as if dealing with a temperamental child.



Humor bubbled in Harry’s vibrant gaze, his laughter buoyant and fully alive as it echoed through the empty tower. It made his already handsome face so much more beautiful, it was all he could do not to slide his fingers along the inviting skin again. This was better than the grief that seemed to squeeze the joy from his heart. The more time he spent with Harry the more he became extremely conscious of his intensifying feelings.



“If only it were so simple. You never did say what brought you out here tonight, its after curfew so you could get detention if you’re caught. But I am appreciative of the company.”



“Malfoy posturing.”



Harry grunted, shifting Nefertiti in his lap before rubbing her again in long graceful strokes across her back that started her loud rumbling purr of pleasure. He never thought he would ever be envious of his familiar.



“What happened? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking what happened.” He glanced up timidly at him from beneath the long strands of hair that covered his face. It was a strangely appealing look, as it made his mouth slightly pouty and inviting.



“He came into the common room crowing about you. ‘Potter’s snapped.’ You have noticed the whispering about you, I hope.”



“They whisper everyday, Blaise. I’ve learned to ignore it for the most part.”



“Mature of you.”



“Self interest mostly. There were only so many times my feelings could be hurt before I realized that the only person who can allow them to hurt me, is me. I still don’t like it but I can’t stop them. I can stop caring what they think.”



“That’s usually my way of dealing with gossip. My name isn’t as popular as yours but there are still those who have no life and are vicious.” He couldn’t help but think of his mother and how she dealt with the murmurs about her. She had taught him to rise above such pettiness and not let it affect him.



“So what did Malfoy do?”



“And you know it was Malfoy, how?”



“It’s always Malfoy,” Harry’s expression held a note of teasing. “He hasn’t been much of a nuisance this year but I figured it was due to his father’s imprisonment in Azkaban. I don’t trust Malfoy though, so I would be surprised if he’s planning something.”



“He is obvious isn’t he?”



“Yes, no Slytherin cunning there.” Harry chuckled unknowingly echoing his thoughts from before his altercation. “So?”



“He insulted my mother.”



“One of his more unoriginal moves.”



“I know. Obvious, but I don’t tolerate insults to my mother or my family. So I kicked his narrow ass.”



That brought forth a completely different laughter, devious really, and seductive in a way he doubted Harry would appreciate. Blaise on the other hand, had no problem with a not so pure minded Harry Potter.



“Wish I could have seen it. So, tell me something new about Blaise Zabini.” Harry’s grin was affectionate and contagious, drawing forth a small answering one. “I know you want to attain your Mastery in Ancient Runes after Hogwarts and I know you enjoyed Italy this summer. I also know you don’t mind wagering obscene amounts of galleons.”



“What would you like to know Harry?”



“Tell me something about your family.”



“My mother and father’s marriage was arranged by their parents. It was a very excellent match. We originate from a very small city on the northern coast of Morocco where most of the magical families there can trace their heritage back to the migration from the ancient Berber Kingdom of Numidia. Eventually many of the families relocated to the United Kingdom where we have resided for the past two hundred years. The Fakhir and the Zabini families have been friends for many years, so when it was time for my mother to marry, it made sense for their eldest daughter to marry the eldest son.”



“But what about love?” His face clouded with confusion, “It doesn’t seem right to force them to marry when they didn’t love each other.”



“My father wasn’t well, Harry. Their marriage was never destined to last longer than the time it took to create me. A Zabini heir. I was very fortunate that my parents were friends who grew to care for each other and my mother cherished my birth.”



“I can’t imagine marrying someone I didn’t love.”



“And I can’t imagine marrying someone my family didn’t approve of. We’re not all like the Weasley’s.” He softened the rebuke with a smile and that seemed to relax the tension in Harry. “My Grandfather took charge of my rearing, as heir to the Zabini house. He is a proud man but loves his family. I learned much from him.”



“I don’t think I’d know what to do with a family of my own truthfully. I don’t want you to think I was casting judgment on your family because of what I said.”



“It’s fine Harry. Only the more traditional families still hold to betrothal contracts in the Wizarding world. I’m not expected to uphold one. I made that clear to Papa this past year when I turned sixteen. I’m expected to have an heir and I want children of my own but I’m in no hurry to have them. There is plenty of time.”



“Time,” Harry sighed, “Is probably not on my side. I’m the last Potter; at least that’s what Dumbledore told me.”



It was an opening he could not allow to pass. “If you’re head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, why aren’t you wearing your ring?”