The Gloriana Set

Castello di Zabini

"Well, then it was out. I could've smacked myself for saying the Big L first, but every move he'd made recently screamed serious intentions, and if he was going to raise the stakes, then so would I. His smile was wider now; he'd obviously taken my words as some sort of confession, and he put down his drink and reached for me, but I backed away.

"'Don't be afraid, cara,' he said. 'I share your feelings, and we—'

"'You don't even know my feelings!" I shouted. I sounded just like Mum, to my own cringing embarrassment, but hell, I'm a Weasley—we have tempers.

"Blaise looked pained and affronted at being interrupted. 'The only time you care about my feelings,' I went on, 'is when I'm getting off, and that's the only time you show any emotion either. What the hell do you want in life, Blaise, other than your next fuck?'

"He looked even more pained now, almost bored. 'I want what everybody wants, cara,' he said. 'Love, happiness, family, a life rich in beauty and adventure.' He took my hand. "Don't you want that as well?'

"I felt like crying. It was all cracking apart before my eyes.

"'Yes,' I said. 'I want all that, too. But real love, happiness, family ... it's not about great sex ... it doesn't come from all this ...'

"I waved my other hand at the incredible island vista. "It's from looking at another person and being stripped down to nothing, then built right back up again.' I was feeling the tears on my face now. 'It's not playing the role of the perfect boyfriend with the perfect castle and the perfect feelings.'

"Blaise's face was cold, like it was when you and I climbed those Quidditch stands to invite the Slytherins to our party. 'You'd prefer me to moan about my problems?' he sneered. 'Like Potter?'

"I laughed at that. 'Are you kidding?' I asked. 'Harry, open up to me? I was too young, too sweet, too good to fight with him during the war, or hear about his struggles afterward or even fuck. He treated me like a child and you treat me like a doll, and you can both go to hell!'

"'His face darkened. 'You don't want to hear about me, Ginevra. You don't want to hear about the sick, twisted underside of life as a Zabini. You, who grew up in a loving family bursting with feelings, with no sense of propriety or discretion. I refuse to revisit that darkness just to indulge your curiosity.'

"'Then you will be alone, Blaise,' I told him. 'You can be with scores of witches, but you will always be alone. I fought in a war. I saw death. I was possessed by pure evil at 11 years old. I won't be with a man who sees me as a child or a pretty picture.'

"I don't know how Blaise looked then, my vision was blurred, the sunshine running into the shadow under the umbrella. I could hear my breathing loud in my ears and the smooth wood of my wand in my palm. I closed my eyes and twirled, thinking of the safest place I knew.

"I opened my eyes again, and there I was, standing in the kitchen of the Burrow, and there was Mum, holding a platter of cauldron cakes, her eyes wide and delighted. And I started crying.

"'Ginny!' she cried, putting down the platter and enfolding me in her arms. 'What is it, love?'

"'It's Blaise,' I sobbed, falling into her arms. 'He's just like Harry.'"

Ginny began sobbing for real, her story finished, and Hermione held her tightly, shocked by the tale. Blaise had made his move, he did care, but he'd misread and mishandled the situation on such an epic scale ...

"I'm so sorry," Hermione murmured. She wanted to smack Blaise. And Harry. Merlin, would anyone take this woman seriously? "I'm so, so sorry. You did the right thing, getting out of there ..."

Hermione soothed Ginny as best she could; then the two women flew back to Hogwarts in near silence. Now it was Hermione's turn to get a dinner plate from the kitchens and bring it back to the dorm for her friend. Ginny's story certainly explained how the redhead had turned up at the Burrow, looking quite brittle, in a sundress and stilettos.

Ginny was now blaming herself, feeling no man could ever open up to her, that something was wrong with her. She thanked Hermione for dinner in a colorless tone, ate the food without looking at it, then closed her bed hangings and announced she was going to sleep at 8:30. Hermione didn't hear any sounds of crying but was not reassured.

It was only then that Hermione noticed a small piece of parchment, folded into the shape of a mouse with a long tail, bouncing around her bed and taunting Crookshanks. Her cat's fur was twice as bushy as usual and he was nearly beside himself, hissing in frustration, leaping from one side of the bed to the other, fruitlessly pursuing the little paper mouse. Hermione rolled her eyes and held out her hand, and the note immediately leaped onto her palm and flattened itself.

The note was from Draco, of course, asking her to meet him at the Room of Requirement. Hermione cast a concerned look at Ginny before deciding to go. She couldn't stay long, though. She tried to fix her hair, but even the Gloriana Set struggled to contain her curls after all that flying. Hermione checked on Ginny one last time, but her roommate was just a lump in the quilts.

Hermione exchanged her Weasley jumper for her Official Torrid Affair cardigan and applied lipstick, then tucked her wand in her pocket and left the room. Blood potions, Knockturn Alley, Theo, the Hunting Shack, Harry's breakfast, Ron's lunacy, the Squeaky Mice, the duel with Draco, and now poor Ginny. ... Merlin, what a weekend. No wonder she didn't get any studying done.