A Throne of Blood and Stars

Chapter Eleven

"The only one pulling anything is you, pulling off feeling me up for free," Ron waggles his eyebrows. "You got the free trial."

"Oh, Merlin. Please stop," Blaise covers his face with his free hand. "It won't happen again."

Ron waves him off but pulls him into the building. It's quiet inside the Three Broomsticks, with all the Hogwarts students gone back for curfew. There's only two tables occupied and Ron leads him to one around the bar.

Madame Rosemerta weaves through the tables expertly with a floating quill and parchment next to her shoulder.

When she sees Ron her face splits into a smile and she bustles his face. "Ron, my boy! I haven't seen you since the term started, you don't visit!"

"Sorry, Madame Rose," he looks sheepish as she squeezes his cheeks. "I've been meaning to owl you."

"None of that owl nonsense, boy! A proper visit will warm this old heart. And who's this?"

Blaise blinks when Madame Rosemerta lifts his face and pinches his cheeks.

"A handsome lad, indeed. But, too much bones! You'll have my porkrib stew," the quill scratches hastily. "And some bread pudding. Trust me, boy, you need it."

"Oh, no," Ron interrupts with a laugh. "This is Blaise Zabini, by the way. And terribly sorry, Rose, he doesn't eat meat."

Madame Rosemerta looks absolutely aghast. "No meat? Well, no wonder! You look positively deathly, boy! Alright, then. You'll have some pasta. A lot of vegetables for you, young man."

It takes five minutes to convince Madame Rosemerta that he really prefers water over pumpkin juice or butter beer, and she begrudgingly agrees after Ron promises to make him finish everything on his plate. Ron only says, "The usual, please," when she turns to look at him and she leaves with a pleased but determined look on her face.

Blaise turns to the Gryffindor with impressed curiosity. "How the bloody hell do you know I don't eat meat?"

"Studying the enemy was something I was very good at. Harry would always be fighting the battles and 'Mione would always have her nose in a book. Never watched their own backs, those two," he shakes his head. "Someone had to. Malfoy wasn't much of a problem, since Harry was always on him. But the rest of Slytherin had a clear shot, so that's one of the reasons I'd always be the first one in the Great Hall."

Blaise is...impressed, to say the least. "I definitely underestimate you," he says, shaking his head.

There's a short girl that brings a glass of water, a goblet of pumpkin juice, and a Butterbeer. Ron thanks her and she scurries off in giggles.

Blaise frowns when Ron shrugs, watches him take a swig of Butterbeer. "No one suspects the dunce to be any good. I would make off-handed suggestions when they were at a blank and at the same time, I'd keep them safe. Up to this day, I don't think they've noticed, which is quite alright with me."

"You took it upon yourself to singlehandedly wipe off any potential targets your friends had on their backs, and yours, unsuspected, and you think that's not worth praise?"

The heat rises to Ron's face and he looks away. "We were in the middle of a war, praise was childish and unnecessary. I needed my friends alive, I didn't need someone to tell me I was doing a good job."

Blaise sits back in his chair, awed and defeated. "You are something else, Weasley."

Madame Rosemerta chooses this moment to bring their plates, and Blaise is momentarily speechless when he sees his plate of pasta.

It's half the size of the table.

But...it looks mouthwatering. There's fresh tomatoes and spinach weaved into the pasta, he sees mushrooms and yellow pepper and he has a mind to eat at least half of it even though it wont fit in his stomach.

Ron's plate is smaller, but theres a large stack of waffles and a bowl of something else next to it.

"Thank you, Rose," Ron grins. "It looks great."

"Aw, my boy. Eat, eat! I won't keep you, I'll be in the kitchen if you need me!"

Ron watches her retreating back and when she disappears behind the door he turns to Blaise, and he laughs.

The Slytherin pouts. "You told her you would make me eat all of it. Look at this!"

Ron can't stop laughing though, he's hitting the table with his palm.

"Stop it, you're drawing attention," Blaise chuckles.

"Oh, Merlin," Ron gasps. "Madame Rose does not do subtle."

"How am I supposed to finish this?"

Ron waves him off and pokes at his waffles. "I'll help you, just don't let her catch you making faces at your plate. She will kick you out."