Tell Me

Tell Me



DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.



Chapter Seven:



The Great Hall:



Breakfast was nearly coming to an end when all hell broke loose with seven little words.



“Can I walk you to class, Hermione?” asked Blaise Zabini as he stood beside the Gryffindor table. He was patently ignoring the startled hisses coming from the Slytherins and was privately amused at the looks of utter shock coming from the Gryffindors.



Hermione looked up into his dark brown eyes contemplatively. She knew she should feel guilty about what she had done with the Slytherin the night before. In fact, she should feel guilty that she did not feel a drop guilty about enjoying the shag she had with Zabini. She could almost feel the anger emanating from Ron from across the table. But the Headmaster had said that the Houses should learn to co-operate and work together and besides, it had been her idea that she and Blaise make their relationship public.



“Yes,” said Hermione simply as she took his proffered hand and got to her feet.



Both Blaise and Hermione walked out of the Great Hall with cool outward demeanors, inside both students were nervous. They walked in a tense silence until they had cleared the entrance hall.



“Gods,” thought Blaise. “I hope I never have to do that again. I think I may have-,” His thoughts were cut short when a strident voice came from behind them.



“Zabini,” said an absolutely furious Draco Malfoy. “What the fuck are you doing?”



The minute Blaise had wondered over to the Gryffindor table and stood beside Granger, Draco had known. He knew that Blaise had actually been with that girl the night before. He could see it in her eyes, and in the way she looked at him. He wanted to choke Blaise with his bare hands. He gave Hermione a contemptuous look that he hoped masked the searing jealousy that threatened to consume him. He had sat, unconcerned by Pansy, while all the while, plotting to get away from his girlfriend. He had told Pans that he needed to have a word with ‘that blood traitor’. Pansy seemed satisfied by that explanation. His hands clenched as he looked into Blaise’s sleepy, smug face.



“I am walking to class,” drawled Blaise. “Can I help you, Draco?”



“Walking to class?” said Draco as he gave Blaise a glare. That prat knew. Gods, he knew how wild he was driving Draco.



“Please,” said Hermione Granger coolly. “Do excuse us.” She turned to walk away with her nose in the air. Her fine exit was marred by a screech coming from the stairs. Draco looked up and gave a grin. It was Weasley. He looked incandescent with absolute rage. He was trailed by his erstwhile girlfriend and Potty, both of whom were shooting Weasley looks of apprehension. Malfoy propped a shoulder up against a damp wall and smirked at Blaise. The bastard was about to get his comeuppance.



“What are you doing with that…that…that Slytherin?” said Ron. His face was puce red, which Draco noted, clashed terribly with his common, red hair.



“I am simply walking to class,” said Granger as she shot Susan a veiled look of scorn.



“Zabini,” said Weasley. He shot Draco a look of contempt. “Did that prat put you up to this?”



“Honestly,” drawled Draco. “I am more disturbed by this travesty than you can imagine. Zabini is obviously under some kind of spell or potion. Or maybe he’s drunk.”



“I bet he did,” said Ron as his voice rose. “This is one of Malfoy’s tricks.”



“Ronald,” said Hermione as she took Blaise’s arm. “I assure you, it is no trick or potion for that matter.” She shot Draco a challenging look. “I simply am walking to class with a classmate.”



“His father is probably a filthy Deatheater,” said Ron as his teeth ground.



“Weasley, take that back,” said Blaise as his voice dripped icicles. “Slytherin does not automatically equal Deatheater. No offense, Draco.”



“None taken,” said Draco coolly. He grinned at the shocked and appalled Susan Bones. Merlin, Hufflepuffs.



“Blaise’s father is not a Deatheater,” said Hermione shrilly. “I am not thick, Ron. The Zabinis are an upstanding, law biding pureblood family from Italy. I, for one, am not prejudiced against purebloods.”



“Law biding?” mouthed Draco at Blaise with a look of surprise on his face. Blaise gave a Latin shrug and smirked at his mate.





Ron and Hermione proceeded to have a loud argument at the top of their lungs as Draco had a whispered conversation with Blaise.



“Are you having me on, Zabini?” asked Draco with surprise.



“No,” said Blaise. “Is it my fault the witch likes to see the good in everyone? After all, I had no choice about the family I was born in.”



“Pity most of the Wizarding world likes to tuck away their fair-mindedness when it comes to my family,” thought Draco sourly. He glared at Blaise. It was that sleepy satisfied look in Zabini’s eyes that made Draco open his mouth. Smug git.



“Give me fucking break,” said Draco aloud as Blaise gave him a quick frown. He gave Blaise a speaking look then tossed his head back and genuinely laughed.



“What is it?” said Hermione with a ferocious frown when Draco would not stop laughing.



“You,” said Draco as he tried to stop. Blaise glared at him but Draco kept giggling.



“Tell me, you utter prat,” said Hermione through clenched teeth. “What is so bloody funny?”



“You look down on me because of my father’s err…political affiliations,” said Draco with a wide smile. “And you are shagging a member of one of the most notorious Italian crime families in Europe. It’s funny.”



“I would not say ‘most notorious’,” said Blaise with an eye roll.



“She is not shagging him,” bit out Potter.



“Whatever Potty,” said Draco with an eye roll of his own.



“I’ll have you know that the Zabini fortune is mostly legitimate, now,” said Blaise to Draco. “And that little misunderstanding with the Bacchetta family was exaggerated in the press as a ‘mafia’ war when it was just a simple disagreement over olive oil imports.”



“Sure,” said Draco with a smirk. He was looking right at an utterly shocked Hermione.



“Shall we go?” asked Blaise in the silence. Hermione nodded with a shell shocked look on her face. They walked down the hall.



“Ron,” said Susan Bones hesitantly as she touched the red head’s arm after they had left.



“I’m sorry, Susan,” said Ron apologetically. His eyes were still on Hermione’s retreating back. “It was just the shock of seeing her with that Slytherin. I don’t care what anyone says, that House is dangerous.” He walked off with his girlfriend after shooting Draco a glare.



“Blah, blah, blah,” said Malfoy dismissively as his heart surged with triumph. He bet Blaise was going to get an earful later. Granger was such a straight laced girl. He and Potter exchanged the usual looks of contempt then Draco stalked off towards his Runes class after the happy couple. Thank Merlin, Potty was too thick to take runes.



“Why are you in such a good mood, you tosser,” said Theo Nott as he came up behind an oblivious Draco.



“Would you believe that Granger thought Zabini was from a ‘nice, law biding’ family?” asked Draco with a snicker.



“Well,” said Theo. “Yes. She’s from a muggle family. Of course, she hasn’t heard of the rather dubious origins of the Zabini fortune. But, you must admit that in the last hundred years or so, the money comes from mostly legitimate businesses.”



“I know,” said Draco. “But she’s so politically correct that it’s going to drive her mad.”



“Blaise is going to be angry if you chase away his shag,” said Theo mildly.



“Yes,” said Draco darkly. “He has fucked her, hasn’t he?”



“Rather dog in the manger of you, Malfoy,” said Theo mildly.



“It would be just like Granger to forgive that git,” burst out Draco as he voiced a suspicion he had about the Gryffindor girl. “It would be all well and good for her to get all understanding about how he could not choose into which family he was born. After all, she could did not chose the Muggles, did she? But when it comes to me, I am a Malfoy. I am responsible for everything my father did before and after I was born. And her attitude is the same as everyone at this bloody school. It’s not fair.”



“Draco,” said Theo as he sighed and looked off into the distance. “Sins of the father and all. I know it’s not fair but it’s just the way it is.”



“It’s still not fair,” said Draco stubbornly.



“Are you angry that Granger shagged Zabini’s brains out last night?” said Theo intently.

Draco opened his mouth to lie to his housemate then stopped. He nodded grudgingly.



“I told you that it would be impossible to get her,” said Theo.



“I know,” said Draco sulkily. “At least now I know that she isn’t the virginal sweet miss I thought she was.”



“Disappointed?” probed Theo.



“Fuck no,” said Draco. “The only virgin I intend to bed is my wife, and even then I hope I could sample the wares before it’s too late to get out of the deal. What if she is rubbish in bed?”



“Draco,” said Theo dryly. “You are such a romantic.”



“Theo,” said Draco briskly. “Marriage is not a romantic proposition. It’s a merger of assets and bloodlines. My parents have drummed that fact into me since I could talk.”



“Most people marry for love,” said Theo wistfully.



“As you pointed out,” said Draco. His face was dark. “We are not most people.”



“Ahhhh, Draco,” said Theo as he tried to lighten the mood. “Think of the bright side to this whole dustup.”



“What would that be?”



“Now, we know Granger fucks on the first date,” said Theo wickedly as they turned into their first class.



Draco laughed.



The corridor outside Arithmancy:



“How could you not mention that fact that your father is a mafia don?” asked Hermione is in harsh whisper.



“My father?’ said Zabini with confusion. “What are you on about? It’s my grandfather who is a mafia don.”



“Oh,” said Hermione sarcastically. “That makes it better.”



“You never asked,” said Blaise as his eyes flashed.



“You let me believe in something not true,” hissed Hermione.



Blaise wrapped his hand around her slender wrist and pulled her closer.



“I am not my family,” said Blaise slowly and carefully. “Just as you are not your family. I don’t judge you. What gives you the right to judge me?”



After a short silence, and as neither Blaise or Hermione noticed the small interested crowd they were gathering, Hermione sighed.



“I am sorry,” said Hermione as she squared her shoulders. “I should not have judged you without hearing your side of the story.”



“I should have told you,” said Blaise contritely as he leaned closer to her.



“Yes, you should have,” agreed Hermione firmly.



“You are beautiful when you’re angry,” whispered Blaise suggestively. Hermione’s face went pink and she gave Blaise a speaking look. She shifted her eyes sideways to indicate the crowd they had acquired. Blaise’s brown eyes sparkled as he gave an almost imperceptible nod.



The crowd around them gave a huge gasp as Blaise down as Hermione reached up and they kissed. By luncheon, every student at Hogwarts had learned about the most unlikely relationship started that year, to date.



The next morning Draco was still silently fuming and toying with his breakfast. He looked up at the funny noise Vin just made in his throat. It was half way between a gasp and a yelp of surprise. What else could happen after the stunt Blaise pulled yesterday?



“Malfoy,” said Harry Potter with a particular look on his face. He looked cool and nonchalant. He towered over the Slytherin.



“Potty,” said Malfoy as he recovered himself and closed his mouth.



“The headmaster would like to see us both,” said Harry.



“Whatever it is,” drawled Malfoy. “For once, I am innocent.”



“I bet that’s a phrase that hasn’t come out of a Malfoy’s mouth in centuries,” said Harry.



Draco narrowed his eyes at Potter and tossed his head as he got to his feet.



“What?” asked Harry in mock surprise. “No comeback? I bet having Daddy locked away—“



“Shut the fuck up, Potter,” hissed Malfoy. Every eye in the Great Hall was glued to the two boys as they whispered insults to one another. All the Houses had been warned against public fighting.



“Gentlemen,” said Professor Snape as he came up behind the two students. “Before this encounter degenerates into another tiresome reenactment of the same fight both of you have had every year since you were both eleven, I suggest neither of you keep the Headmaster waiting.”



“Of course, sir,” said Harry as he shot the professor a glare.



“Sir,” said Draco as he nodded. He walked out of the Hall with his head held high and did not bother to see if Potter was following him.



Harry had spent his summer grieving his godfather and in a way, grieving his parents as well. Just knowing that Sirius cared about him made him wonder what it would have been like to have parents. Normally, Harry didn’t like think about them or about the fact that he was an orphan. All his life, Harry had known that it just was the way it was. Nothing he could do would bring them back so he just dealt with it the best he could. He looked the back of Malfoy’s gleaming head and glared. Malfoy had grown up with his parents and everything he could possible want. A bubble of anger and resentment went through Harry as he glared at Draco Malfoy and his poncy tailored clothes.



“How is Daddy doing in Azkaban?’ asked Harry sweetly and was rewarded by a flush of color that crept up Draco’s neck.



“I didn’t know you cared, Potty,” drawled Draco as he kept his voice under admirable control.



“I don’t,” said Harry. “I was just making conversation.”



They walked through the hallways in silence for a few minutes.



“Poor Potty,” drawled Draco. “It must be hard on you now that Weasel King has actually found a girl thick enough to go out with him. No girlfriend in sight for you? If worst comes to worst, I am pretty sure that Loony Lovegood could be persuaded to give you a go. She’s crazy enough not to care that everyone that comes near you always ends up deader than a doornail.”



“Do not speak about Luna like that,” said Harry through gritted teeth. Draco fucking Malfoy always seemed to know how to find a person’s weak points. Bloody ferret.



“Poor Potty,” drawled Draco insincerely.



“Poor Malfoy,” rejoined Harry. “I bet that leg shackle Parkinson has on you must drag. Although, it gives you a plausible excuse on why you have never beaten me at Quidditch.”



“Jealous Potter,” hissed Draco as they came to stand just outside the Headmaster’s office.



“Hardly,” said Harry dryly. “Fizzing whizzbees.”



Both Draco and Harry ignored one another as they went up the staircase. Draco started in surprise when he came in the door. He found his immaculately elegant mother sitting in the room along with an older witch, and a younger one with the strangest hair.



“Tonks,” said Harry with a grin.



“Wotcher, Harry,” said the girl. She looked at Draco with bright, interested eyes. He looked back at her curiously. She looked like she knew him.



“Draco,” said his mother. “Come here.”



Draco went and sat beside his mother after he greeted her with a kiss on her cheek. She felt stiff and seemed determined not to look at the other occupants in the room. The occupants of the room looked up expectantly when the headmaster and another man came into the room.



“Good,” said Albus Dumbledore as his eyes twinkled. “Everyone is here.”



Draco took the opportunity to scan the other occupants of the room carefully as the Headmaster went through a long and rather pointless monologue. He was staring at the younger witch rather intently. There was something annoyingly familiar about her but he couldn’t put his finger on it. His attention was piqued back to the Headmaster when he heard the word ‘galleon’.



Harry gave Draco a glare. The pervy git spent the last ten minutes giving his own first cousin the eye and only decided to pay attention when the word ‘galleon’ was introduced.



An hour later, Draco just sat beside his mother in a state of shock tinged with a touch of euphoria. He was the last remaining Black male according to the entail on the Black family trust. Potty inherited a moldy old house in London and Sirius Black’s personal fortune. He inherited the rest, lock, stock and two smoking cauldrons.



“There are certain conditions,” said Dumbledore before a smirk could cross Draco’s face.



“Aren’t there always?” thought Draco sulkily.



“The entail is touch old fashioned in its details,” said the Headmaster. Draco, you are the main beneficiary to the Black family trusts. You aunt and mother, of course, will always have their income for life. Each successive generation has added a codicil to the entail. Theses are main conditions: First, if your name is not legally Black. It must be changed to Black.”



“His legal name is Draco Lucius Black Malfoy,” said Narcissa coolly. “Black Malfoy is his legal last name. It was in my marriage contract.”



Draco looked at his mother in surprise. He did not know that.



“Secondly,” said Albus seriously. “You inherit the income of the estate on your seventeenth birthday. But control of the estate will not pass into your hands until you reach the age of thirty or on your wedding day, whichever comes first.”



“Standard,” thought Draco.



“Thirdly,” said Dumbledore. “You must marry within The Standing Stones of Stenness for your marriage to be legal.”



“Where’s that?” asked Draco.



“The Orkney Islands,” clarified Albus. “The vows taken there have their origins in the mists of time. They are considered to be unbreakable.”



“Definitely trying out the bride first, then,” thought Draco seriously.



“Fourthly,” said Dumbledore.



“What?” gasped Narcissa. “There is a fourth condition?”



“Sirius Black added a codicil just before he died,” said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eyes. “There was no actual written codicil that stated a Black must marry pureblood. A Black must receive permission to marry by the head of the family, so this was thought sufficient. Because Sirius, as head of the Black family, approved Andromeda’s marriage, she was not disinherited. He did not approve Bellatrix’s marriage so therefore she was disinherited. I am curious though, why did he approve your marriage, Mrs. Malfoy?”



“My grandfather approved it,” said Narcissa. Her face was pale. “I was betrothed shortly after I was born.”



“Ahhhh,” said Dumbledore with a sage nod. “Sirius added a codicil that states that his heir must marry not marry a pureblood. His wife and mother of his children must be, at the very least, a half blood.”



Draco stared at the Headmaster in shock as pandemonium swirled around him.