Pretty to pretend

Chapter 5


Hermione stood in front of the door leading to the heads common room. She had been here before, when she had been a prefect, but she had been escorted those times, by either the head girl or boy. Now it was just her and Blaize Zabini. Her gaze drifted from the door to his wildly green eyes, shocked to find them staring back at her.

His tanned face held no emotion, not contempt, not arrogance nothing. His eyes were the only thing that appeared alive on his face, and what a beautiful face it was.

Her lips parted as if to say something, a breath almost escaping before she pulled it back in and pressed her lips together once again. Staying quiet was not one of Hermione's strong points, so she rode it while she could, stepping forward she came face to face with their guardian of the head dorms entry way. It was a painting of a beautiful young girl, in a field of yellow and white wild flowers, with long black hair and astonishingly aged gray eyes, housed in a diminutive face. Her tiny red cherub lips curved into an reluctantly innocent smile only the truly pure could ever possess.

“Have you chosen your pass word Hermione Granger and Blaize Zabini? If not than choose carefully, for it can not be reverse, until the end of term when it is time time to choose another.” Her voice was remote as if it where being carried away on a distant wind. The child was no longer looking at the pair in front of her, but at her ring of flowers she was so carefully weaving in her lap, with surprisingly dexterous child fingers.

Hermione watched the child sadly, for she knew something about the paintings in Hogwarts that not many were akin to, student or other wise. The paintings on the walls of the school were a wondrously terrible thing, for truly they were not paintings alone, for even magic could not call the mere air to life in such a thing and give it characteristics of the once living. This little girl had once existed, of that Hermione was sure, for the paintings each held a soul, even if just a tiny fragment of the person that they were in recreation of. This little girl had chosen this place of solitude and peace out of determination to be happy as she had not been when she had died. She knew this because she had had it whispered to her by the one and only Albus Dumbledore, not long before he had expired as their great Head Master. She had been standing in a hall very much like this one but many floors above where she now stood, staring in disbelief at painting of a beautiful young maiden weeping over her dead lover of long since passed. She wanted to know who would paint such a terrible fate for someone so beautiful to endure for eternity. He had whispered to her in the dim lighting of the failing evening; “It is not what the artist chooses but what the subject chooses for them self.” This woman had been alive when this was painted, but it had not gained life until after her demise, suicide he had said, whispering what a tragedy of youth as he had walked on, leaving a wide eyed Hermione in his wake, humming softly to him self a sad tune of mourning.

Hermione cleared her throat and looked at Blaize, green eyes meeting hazel in a sudden clash. His eyes were bright as fire, hers as deep and sullen as any deep green muddy marsh. Empty, only the one word was how she thought of her self now, she didn’t know anything else, just this sad emptiness that cried out to be filled with any emotion other than this empty never ending despair she found her self locked in.

“Nihility.” His voice was deeper than she had suspected, with an accent not altogether British. He had soft pillowy lips and as he said the word for nothing she realized why, she held nothing in her eyes, she felt nothing and some how he knew that.

She looked away and with a quick nod it was done. This was their password, and it couldn’t have been more fitting.

The little girl said nothing as the painting started to swing forward, her eyes on her crown of wild flowers, Hermione stopped it with one hand and the enormous gray eyes looked up at her, not in surprise exactly, but with a question in them too old for her body to comprehend, this pictured had been around for a very long time, Hermione could tell that this child had had time to age past the body that she was in.

“What is your name so I may speak with you upon accastion?” The little black eye brows rose as she whispered back.

“Linda, I am little Linda.” Her face held a sad ghost of smile as if remembering whom the big Linda had been, a mommy perhaps, long since gone and forgotten by all but her, the small cherub child locked in a painting for all of eternity.

“Thank you Linda I shall remember it, for Linda means beautiful and that which you most certainly are.” Smiling at the little girl she strode forward in to her new dorm room.


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Hermione was taken aback buy the site that met her upon entry. The common room that Hermione and Blaize would be sharing was huge, far too large for just two people to be inhabiting. She assumed that this was because this was where the prefects would be coming to have their meetings and what not, 'but that was only once a week, why all the space all the time?' Hermione thought to her self as she wandered farther in.

The room was gold and silver with a touch of green or red here and there. The couch was seated before the large fireplace, comfy and plush. It was a white silver color with a gold woven blanket thrown over the back, the pillows were red and green, reminding her faintly of Christmastime. The fireplace was large enough to floo through, with a long mantle above it, a mirror perched above it making the room appear even larger. Book shelves ringed the perimeter of the room, going up to the 20 foot ceiling, with two sliding ladders for the opposite sides of the room.

Hermione went for the staircase that led up to three doors, all evenly separated from one another. The far left had a huge embossed block letter HB and the right had a large HG done in italics. Looking at the door she knew that it stood for Head Girl and not Hermione Granger, and that comforted her, that wasn’t really who she was after all. She turned around to look at Blaize as he was walking towards her with an angry look.

Blaize was saying something to her, she stared at him blankly until he repeated him self.

“What the fuck was happening on the train between you and Draco? I saw him on top of you, I know what it looked like to me and every one else… How comfortable it seemed, I’m sure the weasle and potty had a lot to say about that.” He smirked at her, his soft lips pulled in to something ugly and hard. He was standing about a foot from her, she had not heard his approach, and was mentally scolding her self, for although he was smart and the top of their class, coming only second to her, he was a dastardly slytherin.

“I don’t think its any of your concern what me or my friends do and what they think is entirely theirs to discuss, not mine, and definitely none of your business, none the less.” She went to step away from him, to get to her room and away from him, but he had other plans. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him, forcing her to look at him, to look up at him as he like every one else was taller than her.

“I don’t think I like your tone much, and I don’t think I like that you feel you can speak to pure bloods in such a manner, you disgusting Mudblood.” His voice was cold and low, as if afraid of being over heard, though they were in a huge room with just the two of them, his face only inches from hers. She stared in to his stone hard hateful face and realized something, his green eyes didn’t match the rest of him. His skin was a soft tanned color, almost as if only tan on the upper most layer of his skin, but terribly pale underneath. His green eyes held an almost crazed look in them, almost hungry, and would have looked more at home had be been smiling maliciously.

She nitted her eyebrows together in a look of angry contemplation. “There’s that fucking word again.” Her voice was low, her lips barely moved but he heard it. He frowned harder at her, about to speak, to say something else when she laughed at him, almost an inch from his face, one quick almost painful sounding laugh. “You speak as if you are any different than I am, as if you are better, smarter, but Zambini, you are terribly mistaken. You think this word, this Mudblood, means anything to me now? It doesn’t, because you are wrong, you think you know what I am, who I am, but you don’t, you have no fucking idea. You try your damndest to be as smart as I am, to be a quick as I am, but still you fail, you just barely got to be Head Boy, they almost gave it to Malfoy, as amazing as that would have been I suppose… And why are you pumping me for information about your friend, what, he wouldn’t tell you him self would he?”

He was shocked in to silence for a moment, mouth hanging open, he had never dealt with the insolence that was legendary with regards to Hermione, but he had heard about it, should have been prepared he was telling him self, about to come back with some scathing remark, face growing a dark puce color with anger, fingers tightening when there was a knock on the door.

Blaize still had a hold of Hermione’s arm, he looked down at his hand and let go, wipeing his sweaty palm against his robes.

Hermione walked to the door, hoping this was Tonks so they could finally talk about this, about her, and what she was.

The portrait swept out was with a touch of her hand and tonks stood there beaming at her, hands in pockets, hair bright bubblegum pink.

“Wotcher ‘Mione.” She leaned forward to take a look in the common room and saw Blaize standing there, looking at her with a frown on his face, she smiled at him and he turned away, stomping up the stairs and slamming shut his bedroom door behind him. “What’s that little snakes problem?” She frowned as she said it, but Hermione shrugged her shoulders and stepped back welcoming Tonks further in to the room.

“Now why all the secrecy,what did you want to talk to me about Hermione?”
“Well there are a couple things, but first of all is something that I have become aware of over the summer, something that my parents told me.” She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves, she didn’t need another reaction like Harry’s had been, she hoped that Tonks of all people would understand, what with them being related and all, tonks and her mother. “Lets go up to my room for some privacy, I wouldn’t want any one over hearing what I’m about to tell you.”

Tonks mearly nodded and followed her farther in to the common room and up the stairs, Hermione taking a steadying breath before opening her door, this would be the first time that she would be seeing her Head Girl dorm.

She was shocked for a few moments, waiting for feeling to return to her body. Her room was huge. Dark hard wood floors, large canopy bed, black bed curtains with burgundy trim and gold tassles, two large bay windows with matching curtains. The rain was beating against the glass, causing it to shake against the frame. She watched it, thinking how lucky she was and wishing she could truly enjoy it. Barley seen through the down poor was a balcony, looking directly out over the forbidden forest.

There was two large stuffed chairs by a small fire place in the corner with a small book shelve, with only a few books, no doubt waiting for her to unpack her books and fill it up with her favorites. She led Tonks to these chairs and offered her a seat after only a second to gather her composure.

“Wow, ‘Mione you really lucked out didn’t you? This is very nice,” she giggled. “Makes me wish that I had worked harder at school to be a head.” she smiled as if remembering something. “Eh, but then again, I wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun.” She paused and than really looked at Hermiones face. “What was it that you wanted to talk to me about ’Mione?”

“First of all I want to tell you that what I’m going to tell you the only other people that know about it are Harry and Ron, and I know that you wont go about telling people, but please don’t tell Remus, I don’t know how he would react.” She sighed and looked down, “I don’t want any one to know that would react the way Harry did, and what with Serius and Remus being like brothers, how would he look at me, what would he think of me.” She was speaking almost to her self, Tonks had leaned forward, straining to hear Hermione over the rain and the crackles of the fire they sat in front of.

“What Hermione, could be so terrible?”

“That’s what Harry asked, when he told me it wouldn’t matter, no matter what it was, that he would love me. But the look in his eyes when he understood, ah, I don’t want any one else to look at me that way.”

“Please, ’Mione, tell me, and mabey I can help you, why else would you have asked me and not McGonagall? You can tell me anything of course, no fear of being ridiculed, or judged, I‘ve seen it all.”

“I’m adopted, my muggle parents… are not my real birth parents, and according to the papers a wich and wizard are. Two pure blooded people in the wizarding community that are so despicable and vile…” Hermione was cradling her face in her hand, the pain and humiliation so hard inside of her, trying not to cry those tears of anger and sadness, trying despratly not to show it, show this pain to one so strong, to an auror.

Tonks leaned forward and ran her hand over hermiones head, smoothing her hair away from her eyes and away from her face. Hermiones eyes came up and looked at Tonks, bright green, almost no brown in them now, with such a broken look. “My mother and father are Bellatrix and Rudolfus Le’strange. Your aunt and uncle.”

To say that Tonks’ breath was taken away is understatment, she was utterly stunned. Her hand stilled above her forehead, blue eyes huge, hair going pure shocking white.

“Her… Hermioner, are you sure?” Her voice was astounded her face totally shocked, but there was no fear there staring back at Hermione, no hate or malice, just a friend reacting to surprising news.

“Yes, I’ve seen the adoption papers. It’s their names, her signature.” She swallowed, looking away, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand, looking away and trying to hide the motion behind her hair. “I just don’t know how to… how to deal with this, I know nothing about her but terrible things, horrid things. What do I do? Can you tell me a little about my… mother, though a mother she hardly is… does she know who I am? Would you have any way of knowing?” Her voice was far off and distant, as if speaking to the surrounding room, posing a question to the books and the chairs but not to real people, as if not expecting any sort of a response.

Tonks started to shake her head, for she knew nothing but wait- “My mother of course, my mother is her sister, she would know everything about her. The way my mother tells it, she wasn’t always like this, they were quite close once upon a time, ill write to her and ask her, but I can tell you what little I know I guess.” She smiled half heartedly, “Although it really isn’t much, maybe it can help you in some way. Though I have a meeting with McGonagall tonight to discuss the security of the castle, so we cant do it tonight, maybe tomorrow night if your not busy. ”

“Yes, that would be awesome, I would like that, though tomorrow night I have the prefect meeting.. We’ll figure something out, this is important.”

Tonks stood and clasped her hand on Hermione’s shoulder and smiled, “I would like that, and yes this is important.”

Hermione stood and smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thank you, you have no idea what this means to me.” They walked to the door and Hermione pushed it open, letting Tonks out and following behind her, taking the stairs down to the ground floor Hermione noticed that Blaize was relaxed on the couch reading a potions book before the fire, he seemed to not even notice they were there, and Hermione was glad for small miracles, she didn’t think she could take much more emotional strain tonight.. They reached the portrait and Tonks swung it open, smiling her farewell to Hermione, stopping the door from closing and saying to Hermione, “You know its not what we are but who we are that make us what we become, remember that Hermione. Wotcher.” and with that the door was closed.

Hermione took a steadying breath and stepped back from the door, turning to come face to face with Blaize Zambini. He looked slightly perplexed, and what she knew of Zambini he didn’t enjoy not knowing or understanding something. He looked at her for a long moment before a small vindictive smile came and went across his face.

“What was she talking about Granger, that rubbish about being who you are and all that none sense?” His green iris’ were ringed with a darker green, almost black, that she could see now , for he was so close she could count his eyelashes if she wanted to.
“I don’t remember any one inviting you in that conversation, Zambini. Now step away from me, before one of use does something we’ll regret.” She stood her ground, and willed him to just step away, because for all the bravado she was showing she was very close to breaking down, to either give her self over to the hysteria or the anger, and she knew that both would be bad, how bad she wasn’t sure, or even how she knew it would be bad, but she was not excited to see which it would be.

This caused him to smile, for once a real smile, because he was enjoying him self and she knew why; he knew. “And what could you do to me that I could regret, I’m not afraid of you, in fact I like this side of you, so willing to threaten, so willing to throw off the golden gloves and get down and dirty, to fight with me. Would you fight with me?” He cocked his head to the side and smiled a lazy sexy grin, his soft lips curving upward as his green eyes slid almost shut, but not enough to block his bright green iris’, dark dirty blond hair falling across his fore head. At that moment he looked to be the perfect Italian prince that he was, even his stance was suggestive, one hand on his heart the other on his thigh. “Would you wrestle with me, fight me to ground?” He laughed as he brought his hand up and placed it on her waist, just below her ribcage. Laughing harder when she pulled away, stumbling back and straight in to the wall behind her, turning her head to the side to see what she had collided with, she sputtered when she looked back and he was inching toward her.

“W-w-wait, what are you doing, you cant do this, you cant touch me, cant want to touch me-” He cut her off when he leaned forward, closing his eyes and smelling her hair, getting the soft whiff of some muggle shampoo, as his hand came around to gather her hair from behind her in to his hand and pull it forward. She made a squeaking noise as her head was pulled forward, and he pushed his body closer to hers, his face coming in to contact with hers as he tried to kiss her and she pulled her face away to the side, crying out when he yanked harder on her hair.

“Oh, but Granger, it is so much fun to touch you, I knew it would be one day, I thought I would never get the pleasure, that I should hate you instead and stay away from you, but dear, darling, our bedrooms are connected by the bathroom… I could hear everything that you said, I know who you are… or better what you are.” He laughed at this as he grabbed her by the front of her shirt and bunched it between her breasts, dragging it down and exposing her candy green and pink bra. The soft white flesh of her breasts, pushed up now by his fist buried between them, he was staring down at that soft flesh, looking so inviting just before his face. “I told my self that I would never get to touch you like this… at all in fact, so you’ll have to forgive me for being a little crazy right now. Imagine seeing what you want everyday of your life, having it waved tauntingly in front of your face and HATING your self for wanting it, because its dirty and foul and your not supposed to, and what would mummy think and every one else, but the joke is on them, on me in fact, because look at what you are, you’re like me, a pure blood, and just mine for the taking, because if you tell any one they wont believe you, that I would do this to a Mudblood and then you would have to tell them that your not, and that they would believe, but why tell them when you’re the savior and all that jazz of the muggle world-” Hermione cut him off there, pushing her hands against his chest trying to pull her face away from his, but he stood his ground, and kept a strong hold on her hair, enjoying the anger that seeped in to her cold hazel eyes, warming them.

“Your wrong, Harry is the savior of the muggle world, I’m just his friend, and I don’t know what you think you heard but your wrong, I’m not anything special, now let go of me, before..” she was at a loss here, she didn’t know what before anything, what was she going to do, her wand was up in the room on top of her bags next to the door, stupid Hermione, she scolded her self, and he was almost a foot taller then her, and had a good sixty pounds on her as well.

Blaize laughed as he licked the corner of her mouth, pulling his tongue down and across her bottom lip, before she could think to pull as much as she could away, even with the death grip he had on her hair. “No silly, I’m not wrong, I know quite well that the proverbial cat is out of the bag, you are a pure blood, a very fucking fine one at that too my dear. And Harry fucking Potter is the savior of the god damn wizarding world, you are in charge of the dirty muggles. You were the hope that muggles could be just as great as us pure bloods, for you were proof enough, but look at you, your not at all special, your just a smart pure blood the way we’re all supposed to be. God this really is very funny.” He leaned for ward and kissed her on the cheek and let go of her shirt, stepping away for a breather.
“I’m sorry if that is too much to handle right now, but really I have wanted this for so long, I don’t know how Potty or Weasel didn’t notice you for what you are earlier, but judging from the looks they were giving you during your little interaction with Draco on the train, I’d say they were aware now.”

“Didn’t notice what you revolting inbred prick?” she was inching way from him now along the wall, towards the door, but his words about Harry and Ron stopped her, fear instead of anger powered her words, she didn’t want what she had suspected to be true, and to have another say it, especially this other person, would be too much . She didn’t want to hear the truth he was spouting from his beautiful vicious mouth, which was smiling at her in absolute wonder as if she were the most utterly dim witted person he had ever met.

“Why how hot you are, of Corse Granger, how sexy and dirty and innocent all at the same time you are, how I want to kiss you and spank you and give you diamond tiaras to wear on your princess head for the rest of your life, because you are so certain that you are better than everyone else around you, so much more knowledgeable and experienced than the rest of us foolish mortals, and right about being better I think, but you don’t know shit about the real world, your so bent out of shape about who your mummy and daddy are, when there are so many more important things out there to worry about, like potty being assassinated before the year is out, or your friend the weasel being a slave one day and his sister tortured to death by the death eaters. You being what and who you are can change that, you could change all of it with that mind of yours, with your natural powers, because I’ve seen what you can do before and I know if you had the right teacher you could be great, amazing in fact, to rival the dark lord.” he was creeping upon her now, getting closer and closer. “I would follow you, I would do what ever you would ask of me, I didn’t mean to scare you before, or maybe I did a little, I liked it, and I think part of you did as well, but what I said is the truth, I want you, I want to have you to own you, or have you own me, either way I will be there and part of you will be mine-” he was cut short as some one knocked on the door loudly, a loud angry “Oi, Blaize, you in there?” came through the portrait, “Your paintings empty, just let me in.”

Hermione’s eyes had been locked on Blaizes’, shocked in to being charmed by his beautiful face and his harsh loving, slightly crazed words, but now she snapped her head away and shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut, willing her self not to believe it, in anything that he said. “No, your crazy,” she said as she turned quickly and opened the portrait door for a very angry looking Draco Malfoy who look ready to yell when he saw that it was Hermione that held the door open for him, that she was even there pissed him off, and embarrassed him at the same time so he stuttered, and Malfoy’s definitely did not stutter, “what do you want Mudblood?” He of course fell back on his good old crutch of a word, too bad it didn’t affect her any more, but it did put her in her right state of mind again.

“You forget that it is my door that you are calling at, Malfoy, not the other way around, Ferret.” He was going to come back with something scathing bout her not deserving a door to any where let alone the head dorms when he thought of something else.

“What’s wrong with your shirt, Granger? It seems to be out of place a bit.” He didn’t smirk, because this was unforgivable, for he had been thinking about pulling that shirt very much out of place earlier that day but looking behind her, he saw no one but his best mate Zambini, he was about to ask who else was there when he put two and two together and scowled.

“Zambini you know the rules, no Mudbloods, that is not aloud and even if it were, she looks a bit peaky and in a flutter, you had better not have been doing anything against her will, Mudblood or no Mudblood…” He glanced down at her chest and realized that the bit of her bra that was peaking through her shirt was matching quite nicely with the panties he had seen earlier.

“I don’t know what your talking about Draco-”

Hermione not wanting Malfoy to know that she was being manhandled quickly looked down and back at Zambini catching his eye when she but him off. “Your wrong about everything, Zabini, I just want you to know that.” And she fled the portrait hole and took off down the corridor like the devil him self was chasing her, instead of just watching her run like the wind away from temptation and truth. For what he had said was true and she knew it, but couldn’t let her self truly believe that any of it was right, because than she was be just like her, her mother.