Fan Fiction ❯ The Life and Times of a Girl Named Blaise Zabini ❯ Chapter Ten ( Chapter 10 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

The Life and Times of a Girl Named Blaise Zabini

By Rosy the Cat

Summary: Blaise Zabini isn’t your average Slytherin. She’s smart, she’s
loyal, and she wants to kick Voldemort’s arse. Oh, and she’s not human.
LotR (movie cannon) /Harry Potter fusion with elements from "The Sandman."

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created
and owned by J. K. 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.

The Lord of the Rings belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, probably his family,
New Line Cinemas, and probably a bunch of other people.

The Sandman belongs to Neil Gaiman, and DC Comics/Vertigo.

"Dancing Queen" belongs to ABBA.

Sailor Moon belongs to Takeuchi Naoko-san. *bows*

Author’s Notes: Sindarin is the elvish dialect Legolas probably spoke
the most often, since he is a Sindarin Elf.

Chapter 10

Notation: [...] means the words are being spoken in Elvish

*************************

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARG!!! WHY DIDN’T ANYBODY WAKE ME
UP?!? I’M GONNA BE SO LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE!!!"

This delightful deluge of deafening disharmony was brought to the
Slytherin dormitories by the letters "O" and "W".

Even as she seemed to blur in her speeding dash out of bed, through the
sixth-year girls’ dorm room, and into the common girls’ bathroom, Blaise
had the time to think ‘Is it just me, or did I sound disturbingly like
the dubbed version of Tsukino Usagi? I need to cut back on my Anime
intake during the summers...’

Shortly after the passage of the mini-cyclone that was better known as
Blaise, several sleepy heads poked out of the seven rooms that held
varying quantities of occupants. One of said persons stomped out of her
room, down the hall, and yelled into the bathroom, "Damnit, Zabini, it’s
*Saturday*! Cork it before I hex you six ways from Sunday!"

There was a sheepish pause, and then a muttered "Byte me, pug-butt. And
the name's GREEN! *grumble-mumble* Nitwit."

Silence reigned again in the Slytherin dormitories for all of five
minutes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sighing, Blaise leaned back on the main door into the bathroom. It was
hardly remarkable that she had forgotten what day it was, considering both
how late she had returned to her bed, as well as how wired she had been
after the discussions both with Draco and Ginny, and the later one with
Haldir.

She really needed to use the lack of exams this year to her advantage
and find a solution to her elven friend’s problem...

No matter how tiring her stint as a wall decoration had been, she
generally felt an increase in energy whenever she dropped her glamour
for short periods of time. This she attributed to the sudden freeing of
previously in-use magicks, and her lack of long-time exposure to those
changes. Her father had assured her that she would get used to it in a
few more years, but until then...fidgeting Blaise with the heebie-
jeebies that left her itching to do something with her hands, so she had
ended up crocheting a neckerchief for Delai in Slytherin green that
really brought out the blue in the cat’s eyes.

Pushing herself upright and off the door, Blaise walked in the general
direction of the shower stalls, then changed her mind and headed for
the bathtubs because, now that she thought about it, her muscles seemed
to be a bit more achy than usual, which she supposed wasn’t surprising
considering the exercise she had gotten the night before. Oddly enough,
her pajama pants and t-shirt seemed to be awkward that morning, and her...
er, chest extensions (Breasts. Boobs. Knock yourself out) were bothering
her more than was precedented. However, her sudden change in direction
had her facing a bank of floor-to-ceiling mirrors along one of the walls,
which was usually used by overly-snooty girls for primping.

Blaise stopped in her tracks.

She stared.

And then, for the second time since the sun had risen, she screamed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco ignored the blaring sirens that had gone off upon his entrance of
the corridor leading to the girls’ dorms, pushing and shoving his way
through the crowd of gossipy females choking the hallway. Once having
gained entrance to the lavatory (after plenty of yelling and smacking
the hand of the overly-grabby cow that was better known as Pansy
Parkinson, who, by the way, looked horrid first thing in the morning),
the young man sometimes called (behind his back, by Gryffindors) the
Slytherin Prince stopped and stared at his life-long friend.

After cautiously making his way across the room, he noticed in the mirror
that her lips were moving slightly, and managed to here the steady but
quiet mutterings of "It’s not me...It’s not me..."

Draco paused, trying to figure out how best to approach this. While
doing so, he took note of the changes in the eleth’s appearance.

First off, even with her slumped kneeling on the ground, he could tell
she had gotten taller, as in she had gained at *least* a foot in height,
meaning they were now about the same height, though she might well have
achieved something she had been threatening him with since he had gone
through his first growth spurts of puberty: she could be taller than him.

Second, her hair, which had before been about down to her knees, was now
about mid-thigh, which looked rather nice on her. Blaise was not, however,
likely to appreciate this, considering how long she had worked to get
her hair that long.

Third, well...To put it delicately, she had gone from looking pretty
and cute, in a pixyish sort of way, to looking like a muggle super model.
...Correction, she looked like what even the most lovely of those anorexic
twits *wished* they looked like.

To put it indelicately, umm, YOW.

What Blaise would look like without the glamour which Draco now knew
was there was not something the Malfoy heir really wanted to think
about.

...

Yes, she was drop-dead gorgeous, but she was also his best friend and
sister figure. He did not want to be thinking less-than-platonic thoughts
about someone he had known since they had both been in diapers.

Cleanthoughtscleanthoughtscleanthoughts...

Well, there was always that nice dream he’d had last night that involved
Ginny in a rather lovely, if old-fashioned, gown...

...

Ah, he felt much better now.

Having decided upon a suitable approach when dealing with an emotionally
distraught practically-a-sister best friend, Draco finally knelt down on
the tiled floor in front of Blaise, sitting up a bit taller just to make
sure she couldn’t see much, if any, of her reflection. Leaning forward
into her personal space, she stared into her chocolate-brown eyes, normally
warm and resembling that particular sweet treat in melted form, but now
still and emotionless, except for the look of shock buried deep in their
depths. Bumping his forehead lightly against hers, he continued staring
into her eyes as she finally came out of her stupor.

"Hey," Draco offered, smiling slightly at the first signs of consciousness
on her face as she came to herself.

Blaise smiled weakly and whispered hoarsely, "hey..." She frowned, than
said, her voice a touch stronger now, "What are you doing in here?"

"Well," Draco drawled, leaning back slightly so she didn’t have to smell
too much of his morning breath, which he absently noticed, though
irritably, that she did not possess (morning breath, not a lack of ability
to smell...Oh, you know what I meant...), continuing with "There was
something with a certain inconsiderate ninny screaming like a bloody
banshee at eight in the morning on a Saturday, and I happen to consider
said ninny a friend, so I was contractually obligated to see to it that she
be brought to her senses." Here he gave an overly-dramatic sniff, and said,
"You do realize you owe me for braving that hoard of raging hormones you
call dorm mates, do you not?"

This last comment earned him a sarcastic smirk, a playful whap upside the
head, and a cooing, "Aw, poor baby! Did ickle Drakie-dums get gwope-ed?
Let Bwaisie kiss ums and make oo feel better!"

What followed was a playful and hyperactive game of tag on the floor,
Blaise giving Draco loud, wet zerbits on any exposed skin she could reach
every time she caught him, which would be reciprocated by Draco mussing
her hair.

(A. N.: For those poor deprived souls out there who do not know what a
zerbit is (pronounced as spelled: ZER-BIT), a zerbit is when you press
your open, or at least half-open, mouth against exposed skin on another
person, and blow. It should sound like either an elephant trumpeting,
blowing a raspberry, or a mixture of the two. Popular zerbitting places
are the belly, or the side of a person’s neck. Zerbitting a person’s neck
has the added appeal of looking like you’re necking the person, but in
actuality you’re just being silly.)

Their antics were finally interrupted by the not overly-loud clearing of
a Potion Master’s throat.

...

Yeah, it sounded pretty much like that...

"Mister Malfoy, Miss Green," Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House, drawled
in that way that was somewhere between murmuring and purring and, well,
there really wasn’t a word for the tone of voice he was using, but it was
quite effective for making rule-breakers feel sheepish and/or embarrassed
out of their minds.

This particular tone of voice usually simply amused Blaise and Draco,
because they were rarely (or in Blaise’s case, never) on the receiving
end. Draco wasn’t looking particularly amused at the moment, but Blaise
was still slightly buzzed from their happy frolic into what was left of
their childhood and didn’t seem to give a flying fit of flatulence,
cheerfully humming the English dubbed version of the Sailor Moon theme
song.

Professor Snape finally noticed that the female contingent within the
room was apparently not paying attention, and said in an even more silky
tone, "Miss Green, I do hope you have been listening..."

Blaise nodded perkily and chirped, "You said that Draco shouldn’t have
entered the girls’ section of the dorms, and that we were acting silly
in a manner that did not befit people our age- which is rather fatuous,
really, considering we’re still children and should be getting the most
out of our childhood and good stuff like that -and you mentioned that
Parkinson’s getting all cranky and possessive about Draco, which isn’t
healthy, by the by, and I rather suspect that she is acting like a total
bi-"

"That is quite enough, Miss Green," Snape finally interjected, sweatdropping
at his star pupil’s apparent ability to rant on and on and on without
stopping to breathe.

That, and he felt a distinct urge to run and find a dictionary so he
would know what the word "fatuous" meant.

(A. N.: "Fatuous" means "to display a complete lack of forethought".
Blaise knows her thesaurus quite well, doesn’t she? =^_^;=)

Shortly thereafter, after Professor Snape finally cleared the crowds
away, Draco and Blaise got up off the floor, confirming the fact that,
yes, Blaise was now taller than Draco, by about two inches.

(Draco’s Note: "DAMNIT!!!" >_<* )

(Blaise’s Note: "Yippee, I’m all tall and Elf-like now!" ^_^ )

Shortly thereafter, Draco pointed out that Blaise’s previously-comfy-
and-loose pajamas were now, well, not. Then he made a comment about
how he did not understand her previous reputation for potential evil,
when she slept in such ridiculous clothes.

This was followed by a whap upside the head from Blaise to Draco, the
former hissing at the latter the phrase, "I *know* you didn’t just mock
my kitty jammies!"

Shortly thereafter, Blaise was directed to the seventh-year girls’ dorm
to ask to borrow some clothes until she could acquire some new ones of
her own, Draco firmly maneuvered back to the boys’ dormitories. After
coming to the conclusion that all of the seventh-year girls were either
too short or too skinny, Blaise ended up borrowing a t-shirt, socks and
a pair of jeans from Millicent, though the shirt was a bit shorter than
Blaise would have preferred (Ah, the curse of being tall...Darnit, why
couldn’t the stupid uber-growth spurt have shown up during the summer?!)
and she ended up conceding defeat and wearing the pants low on her hips,
a style she found silly, though it was that or...well, they just wouldn’t
go up any higher, really. Millicent was shorter than her now, though not
by too much, but enough for sharing clothes to be inconvenient. Shoes were
taken care of with a minor growth charm on Blaise’s beloved ankle-boots,
an issue that had Blaise near tears because the footwear were new, and
she rather liked the style.

Undergarments...were awkward. Let’s just say that the elven princess had
a wedgie up her royal rear, and she had to settle for an ill-fitting
sports bra.

Now to get permission from Dumbledore to go into Hogsmeade on a
unscheduled day...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blaise had made it from her shared room in the Slytherin dormitories to
the gargoyle that watched over the entrance to the Headmaster’s office
miraculously unseen, though it had been a bit of a close call when she
had almost run smack-dab into a cluster of gossiping Ravenclaws. She had
barely escaped by jumping up ten feet and latching onto the outside of
the main staircase leading up from the Entrance Hall.

That was fun, actually, but the little twits made her reevaluate her
assumption that she would have done better in Ravenclaw. She wouldn’t
want to be *that* oblivious. And, for all that Hufflepuffs had the bad
reputation for gossiping, what she overheard those Ravenclaws said that
clearly, brains didn’t make you immune to hormone-driven inanity.

Anyway, here she was, outside Dumbledore’s office and rattling off the
names of every sweet she could think of, rocking back and forth on her
feet idly. She had already gotten all the way through the various
wizarding treats, and was now sing-songing out more mundane goodies.

"Lemon drops...Milky Way...Three Musketeers...brownies...nougat (Mmm,
nougat)...Ding-Dongs...Ho-Hos...cup cakes...chocolate-covered pretzels
...ice cream...Umm...Twizlers Pull-and-Peal...?"

She blinked as the gargoyle moved, revealing the moving staircase
behind.

"Huh."

Shrugging, Blaise lightly hopped onto the in-motion steps, bouncing
idly in place, then leapt across that last few feet between the top
of the stairs and the doorway. On any day before this, she probably
would have run the risk of having a klutz attack and falling back down
the stairs, but it seemed her sudden growth had helped cut that back.
Therefore, she only over-balanced and had to pinwheel her arms for a
few seconds before regaining her footing. That settled, she tugged
down on her loaned shirt one last time to try to get it down to her
waist, then opened the door.

Sashaying into the room, she did a little twirl and then gracefully
plunked herself down in one of the comfy chairs situated in front of
the Headmaster’s desk. She directed an amused smirk at the equally
amused twinkly blue eyes set behind gold-rimmed half-moon spectacles.

"Twizlers, Albus?"

Dumbledore’s Twinkle Factor jumped up a few more notches as he chuckled,
then reprimanded her with, "I do recall asking you to refer to me in a
more formal manner when here at the school, Miss Green."

"Pft," Blaise said, waving her hand dismissively even as she re-situated
herself so she was seated a bit more properly, as all good little
princesses are taught to do. "Albus, let me remind you of something.
My sister was one of your teachers, and I’ve known you since the day I
was born. As long as nobody who doesn’t already know those little tidbits
of information is in the room, I could call you Rainbow Santa if I wanted."
She paused here, looking a bit wary. "Not that I would, of course, because
my sister would smack me upside the head the next time we see each other
if I did, and you can be damn scary when you want to be."

Albus merely smiled.

Blaise fidgeted a bit.

Dumbledore finally cleared his throat and said, "What can I do for you,
Blaise?"

The girl immediately perked up and said, "Oh! Could you just sign some
little doohicky-paper-thing that says I can do magic outside of school
and that the Ministry can go stuff themselves, because that would be
really cool...And you meant something legal, didn’t you? ...Damnit.
Umm, well, you know, ‘hello growth spurt’ and that sort of thing, and I
sorta-kinda really *need* to get some new clothes, so a pass to go to
Hogsmeade would be neat...Please. ...Okay, I’m shutting up..."

Blaise slumped down in her chair, her face red in embarrassment.

Dumbledore merely smiled at her, then took a blank slip of parchment
from a small stack on his desk, dipped a quill into a pot of his
habitual green ink, and the room was filled with the quiet skritch-
scratch of a quill writing on parchment, along with the quiet whirring
of the various unidentified doohickeys scattered around the chamber.

After about a minute of this, Blaise finally got over her embarrassment
and sat up in her chair, curious. The Headmaster finally finished
whatever he was writing, cast a small charm to quickly dry the ink,
and handed it over to Blaise, who perked up considerably at the sight
of the requested pass into the village. She was confused, however, by
the amendment that *two* students could leave school grounds.

She looked up, eyes questioning.

Albus nodded slightly at the parchment, and said, "I thought you might
prefer to take Miss Weasley along to help carry back your no doubt
numerous packages."

This was answered with a high-pitched squeal of happiness, a hug,
and a victorious whoop as Blaise tore around the room, culminating
with her leaping from the open office doorway, to the foot of the
steps, whereupon she tore off down the corridor, heading for the
Great Hall to collect some breakfast and the youngest Weasley.

Dumbledore shook his head in bemusement even as he automatically
straightened his hat back into place and smoothed his beard down.

Elessario was most assuredly her mother’s daughter, if a tad more
energetic than the anthropomorphic manifestation of death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silence slowly crept across the Great Hall upon Blaise’s entrance until
the only sounds were that of occasional whispers. There were a whole
host of expressions on the various faces. Blaise ignored it all as she
strolled down the Slytherin side of the room, finally stopping near her
usual seat just long enough to chug back some milk, snag a blueberry
muffin with some bacon, then lean over and whisper something to Draco,
to which he responded by simply nodding and turning back to his own
breakfast. It was about then that the eleth realized that the vast
majority of the hall was staring at her.

"What the bloody-flippin’-heck are you all staring at?!" she snarled
in a tone of voice that carried throughout the hall without straining
her throat (all hail voice lessons!), which sent her schoolmates scurrying
back to their food and conversations, although there was still the
occasional furtive glance at her.

Shaking her head in annoyance, Blaise set to work demolishing her food
as she made her way over to the Gryffindor table, which got her even
more looks, many of them hostile. Oddly enough, the Gryffindor boys
didn’t seem to mind her sudden presence in their midst. Of course, that
was likely because they were male and she looked like something out of a
teen fashion magazine, but we can hope that they were better than that.

Not bloody likely, but we can hope.

"Good morning, Weasel-boy, Scarhead and Curlytop! I was going to ask
if I could borrow Virginia, but, since she’s my friend and you don’t
own her, I think I’ll just kidnap her and be off! Ta-ta!" Blaise waved
cheerfully as Ginny curiously got up from her seat at the table. The
Dream Team looked positively confused, which was amusing in its way.

"Blaise, where are we going?" Ginny finally voiced as the two girls
headed for the main doors out of the hall.

"Shopping! There’s this whole thing with an uber-annoying magical
growth spurt and me not wanting to go around in Millicent’s clothes
longer than necessary, and Dumbledore gave me a permission slip. Come
on, it’ll be fun! I can spoil you rotten with some spiffy new things,
and you can help me fit some colors that aren’t blue or green into my
wardrobe!"

Ginny froze in shock for about a minute, trying to absorb the new
information, then tore off out of the Hall to catch up with Blaise.
The older girl was already out the main door and halfway down the
steps by the time the redhead pulled even.

"Blaise, I can’t accept your charity. It goes against everything my
parents have taught me!"

Blaise stopped half-way down the path to the school’s gate, sighed,
and turned around to face her friend.

"And those are very good lessons, but Gin, I grew up thinking my sister
was my mother. I essentially, for the majority of my life, have never
had *any* siblings, or cousins, or anything like that. All of my nephews
died a long time ago. Until I find a way to Valinor, the only family I
have are my parents, my aunts and uncles on Mum’s side, and my cousin
Orpheus, none of which I see all that often. Because I don’t have any
little brothers or sisters to spoil, I generally treat my friends to
things every once in a while. Ask Draco; we’ve done that for each other
dozens of times. The same goes for my friend Lina from school before
Hogwarts." Blaise smiled slightly, then continued.

"I see this as a way for us to get to know each other, just us girls. As
for money...Well, let’s just say Dalla had enough stashed away to keep
me well-off for a few centuries, and that is if I don’t work and spend
a whole lot."

At Ginny’s incredulous look, Blaise shrugged and said, "Dalla and Daddy
have never been much of big spenders; with Dad, he usually only buys
things if he can’t harvest or make it himself just as well or better."

Ginny’s incredulous _expression now more resembled the face of a dying
carp. "Where in the world did they *get* that sort of money?!"

Blaise smiled wryly and said, "Absent-minded collecting of coins and
trinkets over ten millennia, along with investing in some of the earlier
banks on a lark. Though you will have to remind me to tell you about
this one time when Dalla and her sons tricked a Sheik into giving them
a hundred bags of gold coins some time."

Blaise then strolled down the path to the village, whistling the melody
to "Dancing Queen" as she dragged her Gryffindor gal-pal along after her.

*************************

Author’s Notes: *squeal of hyperactive fangirl joy!*

I got this entire thing written in less than two days! Go me! *does
Happy Fish on Tuesday Dance* And just in time for my birthday on the
sixth, too!

*twirls about like a loon*

Happy Early Birthday to me, Happy Early Birthday to me, Happy Early
Birthday to me~~e, Happy Early Birthday to me!

*huggle-glomps her muse, teary-eyed*

I love you so much! *sniffle!*

Aaaaaaaaaaanyhoot, thanks go out to you, the readers, for keeping me
smiling with your reviews and such.

*hint-hint!*

Special thanks go to Rhonda-sensei, as always, for keeping my spirits
up when I’m stuck in the Quagmire of Writer’s Block, as well as keeping
me grounded in my logic with your utter lack of it at times. *Hug!*

Forever and always, thanks also go out to you, the readers and webmasters/
webmistresses who read and host my stories. Specific thanks go out to
my wonderful reviewers for this chapter:

Jaya- Naturally. Besides, what fun is the easy path, anyway? Easy is for
puny addle-pated twits.

=~_^=

Thank you, I thought chapter nine was rather nice myself, particularly
the "Fallen" scene, although I find it hard to believe that you almost
forgot about my story in only a little over two months.

As for your final comment: No to the first, and yes, quite, to the third.
Oh, and an evil smirk because I know something you don’t know, although
you’re picking up hints far better than some people.

*playful ribbing at a certain Potter-obsessed someone named Sushinase*

horse head- Thank you! I like Elessi-chan too!

As for the story being confusing at times, well, the majority of it so
far *has been* directed towards explaining what has happened before the
story began, as well as various relationships between the characters,
and giving hints at how they might develop. I don’t find it confusing,
but that might just be me. Or maybe you should try reading the stories
this one is based upon; have you read Neil Gaiman’s "The Sandman"
series? If not, maybe that’s what has you confused. Otherwise, I
can’t think of anything.

La loba- Thanks for reviewing again, loba-san, and yes, I knew about
that other name for good-ole Mama Earth; Blaise’s comment on Arda and
Middle-Earth were mainly a way to reiterate the fact that, for this
story at least, Middle-Earth, the War of the Rings, and all that good
stuff, are a part of the characters’ past. For them, it happened, even
though most of them don’t know it.

Definition to the random Elvish term that showed up this chapter: Eleth=
Elf Lady. I think... I’m reasonably certain. That’s the context I’ve seen
others use it in.

Well, that’s it for now. I’ve got an idea for another one-shot to explain
some more of Blaise and her family’s past, but it will focus on Dalla
and her sons more than anything, so sorry for all of my fellow Legolas
fans out there.

Ja mata ne!

-- Rosy the Cat (rosythecat@yahoo.com)

10-2-03

P.S.: Squee! This chapter’s 3685 words long, and that’s not including
the Author’s Notes! *sniff!* I feel so accomplished!