Chapter 6 - Quidditch Commentary

Nott had hated the Thestral model when he saw it the next morning, still snuggled up in Blaise's tie that he was now carefully removing.

"I can't believe you actually kept one of those… those things."

Blaise gave him a nonchalant shrug, knowing it would piss him off.

"It was good chocolate. Besides, I find them rather cool. They are not as terrifying as you think. They're very similar to horses."

"That must be it then," Nott muttered darkly, "because I hate them too…" Blaise just laughed.

And in the next few weeks their friendship intensified, often seeking each other out in the Common Room of the library. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle didn't seem to notice and were curiously absent more and more. They often discussed what their classmates were up to, but neither were quite ready yet to face that facts that whatever it was, it had everything to do with the Dark Lord.

"His father fucked things up last year." Nott told him one day in the library. "I would not want to be in Malfoy's shoes right now." Blaise raised an eyebrow and eyed him curiously.

"Aren't your… circumstances similar?" Nott gave him a guarded look. He hesitated before answering.

"Not completely… my dad… well he didn't have the same position as Lucius. And he hasn't involved me…"

"Not yet?" Nott's cheeks turned red.

"I can't say any more."

"Good, please don't." Blaise said sternly and flicked the page of his book. "What career advice did Snape give you?"

Nott gave him a grateful smile.

"Always wanted to be a Curse Breaker like my uncle. So Gringotts for me. What about you?" Blaise shrugged his shoulders.

"Still not sure, but I've been looking into the Wizengamot."

"Never thought of you as a Ministry person."

"What did you think then?"

"Not sure I guess. Maybe Quidditch?"

"Not playing with this team." This earned Blaise a laugh.

"I guess not. I don't know, what does your family do?"

"Own large estates here and in Italy."

"So you don't need a career?"

"I am heir to the Zabini Estate in England and Italy, so no, if I wanted to sit on my arse all day I could."

"Lucky you…" Nott muttered.

"It's a rather boring prospect…"

"I never have nor ever will have sympathy for you Zabini, especially knowing this. But since you're considering lowering yourself to us common folk, what excites you?" Again Blaise shrugged.

"Like I said, been looking into the Wizengamot. My uncle wants me to continue his work with horses." Nott shuddered at that thought before eyeing him thoughtfully.

"You are good with animals. I don't understand why you dropped Care of Magical Creatures."

Blaise gave a snort.

"You know why. Honestly, if Grubbly-Plank had remained the permanent teacher I might have considered it, but the classes have been a joke."

"I suppose… But you can't deny that Grubbly-Plank and Kettleburn were also mental."

"I've learned more by simply reading Fantastic Beasts then anything taught by the dim-witted oaf."

"That's not a very nice thing to say." A dreamy voice said beside him.

Shocked Blaise turned and for the first time he saw something close to anger in Luna's eyes, changing them from pretty moonstone's to cold silver. It took him a second to realise she was accompanied by Ginny Weasley, whose wand was pointing at his face. The girl's brown eyes were blazing too. Blaise found his own wand, ready to defend if necessary. He knew how powerful her Bat-Bogey-Hex was, Slughorn wouldn't shut up about it.

"Stand down Weasley." Nott hissed over Madame Pince's cries.

"Wands away! This is a library!"

Neither Blaise nor Ginny lowered their wands.

"Hagrid is a very nice teacher. He gave a great class on Thestral's today." Luna said and Blaise looked back to her. She looked calm but he could sense the same undertone she had used when he insulted the Quibbler. They stared at each other, unaware that both Ginny and Nott had started to look between them.

"His Thestral class was his best last year. But I believe I am perfectly entitled to prefer Grubbly-Plank over him."

"Of course, but there is no need to be insulting." He gave a mocking smile.

"And I find a wand shoved in my face insulting. My opinion on him is none of your business." He looked back at Ginny, who gave a glare, gripping her wand tighter. But then Luna lay a hand on her arm.

"You're right, Ginny please." Weasley gave her friend an incredulous look.

"But Luna, he called Hagrid…"

"I know, but we don't all have to be disappointing." And with a final fierce look at him, Luna turned away, dragging a reluctant Ginny with her.

Madame Pince too gave Blaise a glare as he put away his wand, but he didn't pay attention to the permanently chagrined librarian. He sat back down, dazed. He felt as if she had slapped him across the face. Disappointing. First she had found him funny looking and now this. There had been many insults whispered behind him back or taunts flung at him. But never, ever, had anyone called him disappointing. Perhaps he ought to go to the Hospital Wing to let Madame Pomfrey check for internal bleeding.

"Zabini? Zabini, you there mate?"

He looked up at Nott's concerned face.

"What?"

"Did she hex you? Some non-verbal spell?"

"What? No."

"You look tongue tied. They were so out of line. How dare that blood traitor even dare…?"

"She's known for her temper."

"Merlin's balls." Nott cursed. "And that Loony…"

"Don't call her that." Blaise said automatically and immediately regretted it.

Nott gave an incredulous sound, leaning back and folding his arms together. He raised a perfect eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"I…"

"You're defending her." It wasn't a question. "After she just stuck her nose somewhere it didn't belong. And let Weasley threaten you. And now you're defending her."

"I am not. It wasn't either of their business, but whatever annoying…" He couldn't continue, his throat drying up. So he tried to shrug. "Whatever. But she's not loony."

"You know her. I saw that look between you. You know each other." Another statement.

"Hardly, met her at Slughorn's."

"She's part of the Slug Club?"

"No, just at the Christmas party."

"Zabini, don't tell me, please don't…"

"No! No, nothing like that. She's not the reason."

"Then… why?"

"Just forget it ok? We spoke. She's weird but not loony. That's all."

"And yet she thinks it's ok to just interrupt our conversation. Who does she thinks she is?"

"She's… not like… she doesn't care about… that stuff."

"That stuff? Simple manners. Wizarding hierarchy."

"You know what I mean." Blaise glared, Nott simply snorted.

"Do I? I feel like I have no idea what's going on."

"Nothing's going on. I just forbid you to call her Loony."

"You… forbid… me? And it's perfectly fine for her to insult you?"

"No of course not!"

Nott gave him an intense stare that Blaise tried to hold without flinching or looking away first.

"I don't believe this." Nott said finally.

"There's nothing to believe. Just forget it."

"Believe me, I'll try."

They turned back to their homework. But Blaise found he could no longer concentrate on his History of Magic paper. Neither it seemed could Nott and so they packed up their stuff. They strode back to the Common Room in silence and Blaise was looking forward to a long hot shower. Before they entered the Common Room however Nott briefly stopped him.

"Listen," he said in a low tone, "I value our friendship and won't speak of this to anyone. You're lucky Malfoy was not there. But I am warning you Zabini, I know there's stuff you aren't telling me. And with… everything… going on. Don't start aligning yourself with blood traitors. You can't stay neutral like you want to be if you do."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, just a warning. One friend to another."

Blaise turned to look into his eyes. Nott held his stare. He sensed he was honest. He gave a quick nod.

"Thank you." Nott nodded back and they climbed through the guarded entrance.

After his shower, Blaise dropped himself onto his bed. The Thestral model greeted him excitedly.

He sighed as the tiny creature started to play in his palm. Her eyes filled with anger and disappointment filled his mind and his stomach knotted together. He felt angry too.

Whatever relationship she and her friends had with Hagrid, no one could deny that Grubbly-Plank had been the better teacher. It had frustrated him that the one class that excited him the most, had for the most part been a disappointment. So much so, that he couldn't be bothered to do his NEWT's too.

If was fine. He didn't need it for a Ministry role. And the Ministry would be a perfectly acceptable career choice for him. And if being in England would bore him to death, then he could always move to Italy. He had options.

It seemed like less of an option to be friendly with Luna Lovegood. Nott was right. Danger was brewing. Everyone sensible knew that getting close to the Weasley's was the fastest way to being expelled from the Pureblood Society. Being close to Weasley meant being close to Potter and that was a death sentence. The Lovegood's had through the Quibbler and Luna's fighting at the Ministry made it very clear where their loyalties lay. Had the Pureblood Lovegood family name truly meant something in his society, then they would have been a traitor and be just as dismissed as the Weasley's.

Any association with her would fail and lead to dismantling his own family's carefully constructed neutrality. And he could not do that to his mother and sister and potentially put them in danger. No this would have to end. There was no other choice.

----

Excitement filled the student body as the next Quidditch match approached. This time Gryffindor and Hufflepuff would face each other off. It would be interesting to see whether Gryffindor would join Ravenclaw in winning two games and creating a lead to 1 and 2 place. Naturally, most Slytherin's therefore hoped for Hufflepuff to pull through. Anything to block Gryffindor was the better outcome. It would provide Slytherin with a chance to stay in the running.

Blaise and Nott joined their house mates as they made their way to the pitch. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, were as usual no where to be seen. Meanwhile there were plenty of rumours going around about the Gryffindor team. Ron Weasley, Potter's best friend had landed himself in the Hospital Wing after being poisoned in Slughorn's Office. It had raised some eyebrows. Especially Blaise couldn't believe Slughorn would have anything that could be mistaken for poison close to him. The man was far to clever for that. He instead suspected something sinister, similar to what had befallen the other Gryffindor Chaser at the start of the year. But whatever the reason, there were drastic changes to the Gryffindor team, including McLaggen as Keeper. And Blaise was curious how it would go.

Both teams were in the air and Madame Hooch released the balls into the field. The game had begun. And then, the dreamiest voice that evoked tingling along Blaise's spin echoed through the pitch.

"And that's Smith of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle. He did the commentary last time of course, and Ginny Weasley flew into him, I think probably on purpose – it looked like it."

Wildly Blaise turned to the commentator box, and there she was in all her outer worldly loveliness, Luna Lovegood, commentating on the Quidditch match. Oh, this was going to be good!

"Smith was being quite rude about Gryffindor, I expect he regrets that now he's playing them – oh, look, he's lost the Quaffle, Ginny took it from him, I do like her, she's very nice…" Luna continued and several around him started to snicker. Blaise ignored them, but could barely contain his own laughter when he saw Professor McGonagall beside, looking to be second guessing this interesting choice. Because that it was. Apart from her complimenting him during the Slytherin vs Hufflepuff game, Blaise was sure that Luna didn't actually care about the game. More perhaps the excitement around it. And if Padma Patil could be believed, she hardly kept score.

"… but now that big Hufflepuff player's got the Quaffle from her, I can't remember his name, it's something like Bibble – no, Buggins – "

"It's Cadwallader!" Professor McGonagall interjected and the crowd laughed and within seconds Cadwallader scored the first point. This led to an argument between Potter and McLaggen, which Luna, of course picked up on.

"And Harry Potter's now having an argument with his Keeper," she said serenely. "I don't think that'll help him find the Snitch, but maybe it's a clever ruse…"

Blaise couldn't help but join in with the cheering and jeering that rose up from the Hufflepuff and Slytherin supporters. For the first time in years however, he found himself not actually looking at the sport in front of him, but rather looking at her. How relaxed and content she looked, making cute faces as she spoke or saw something amusing. As her house mate had remarked, she did not keep the score. Not even with Gryffindor scored either. Instead her interest became fixed on cloud formation drifting by. Then, when she spoke about Zacharias Smith's possible affliction with 'Loser's Lurgy', Blaise lost it completely. He didn't care if people saw his pure enjoyment. He was sure practically the whole school would think she was crazy, while he could easily carve out his heart and give it to her. She would probably chuck it back into his face, but he honestly didn't care. All his anger at their disagreement vanished and he was ensnared once again.

"Seventy – forty to Hufflepuff!" Professor McGonagall later barked, bringing both him and Luna back into the game.

"Is it, already?" She asked vaguely before something caught her attention, interest now in her voice. "Oh, look! The Gryffindor Keeper's got hold of one of the Beater's bats."

Blaise whipped his head around to look. Indeed, McLaggen was holding Peakes' bat and appeared to be demonstrating how to hit a Bludger towards the incoming Cadwallader. Potter was now racing towards them too, roaring in anger, and Blaise actually felt a twinge of sympathy for him, having such an incompetent Keeper. But before anything could be done, McLaggen hit and the Bludger was sent straight into Potter's head and hit him with a resounding crack. Blaise and the rest of the crowd winced. Then there were screams, as Potter, completely unconscious from the vicious blow plummeted to the air, saved just in time by his Beaters.

The game was halted as Potter was rushed towards the hospital wing. And when it resumed, the Gryffindor team seemed to be in utter chaos, much to the benefit of the Hufflepuff's and satisfied glee of the Slytherin's. With a final score of 320 to 60, the Gryffindor's were annihilated. Which, in itself would result in one of Blaise's favourite games in a long time. But Luna's continuing commentary made in perfect. And he vowed that as soon as he could catch her alone he would, first apologise, and then tell her, just how much he had loved it.