Chapter Text
November 12, Saturday
Harry Potter
Despite Harry’s protests, George somehow convinced him to join one of the card games happening nearby. Which meant that he agreed to get up from his comfortable seat and leave Neville and the girls behind. His roommate and Hannah looked deep in conversation, and the last thing Harry wanted to do was interrupt them. Susan gave him a small nod, which he couldn’t interpret but was still better than the narrowed glare she had given him before.
So, with a sigh, he got up - not only was he about to join the crowded part of the room, but he was also leaving behind his social support. He was not at all nervous…
George assured him that he would know some of the players, but Harry was beginning to realise that the twins just knew everyone, and so those words offered little reassurance. Looking at the faces around the low table, he recognised the fifth-year Hufflepuff chaser, Darcy Dearborn, fellow fourth-year Antony Goldstein, and Ravenclaws’s chaser, Roger Davies, but he couldn’t quite place the three girls.
No one seemed to pay him any special attention, and instead, Davies started to explain the rules. Harry tried to pay attention, but a part of him was busy thinking about their reaction, or lack thereof.
He didn’t know if the school was slowly getting over their hatred of him or if it was the alcohol. Or both? Whatever it was, he would enjoy it while it lasted. Who knew when the whole school would turn against him yet again?!
He was even more surprised when Blaise sat down next to him, and there were no objections. In fact, there were a few neutral nods sent his way, and Dearborn even said something in Italian that made the Slytherin chuckle. But other than that, there were no mean comments, nasty glares, or accusations thrown his way. Perhaps they all knew Blaise personally or - and this was an idea Harry wouldn’t have considered a few weeks ago - the rest of the students simply didn’t mind hanging out with a Slytherin.
Trying to imagine the same situation at a Gryffindor party, he immediately knew everyone’s reactions would be quite different. Not only was it unlikely that Blaise would’ve been invited, but people would’ve definitely given him suspicious looks the entire night. Was it only his own House that despised everything Slytherin? And had Harry really been blind to it all this time?
He went back to his first theory that perhaps this was specific to Blaise. After all, the Italian had never acted like Malfoy and his cronies, bullying anyone or being a miserable prat. Plus, even though the twins didn't have the chance to explain how Blaise had earned his nickname, ‘the spider,’ Harry had some guesses of his own.
In all honesty, two weeks ago he had barely noticed Blaise’s existence, but after sitting at the Slytherin table, the Italian boy seemed to be everywhere: trying to sit with him during Potions class, at the library, and now offering him chocolate, it was … interesting how often their paths crossed.
He had asked Lexi to tell him a bit about Blaise and his family and had not expected her to sound almost fond of Seraphina Zabini, also known as the Black Widow. And he could understand why - the woman sounded pragmatic to the extreme but also kind of brilliant. And then there was Blaise’s grandfather, who was powerful enough to influence politics across the continent. So Harry might not know that much about the boy himself, but it seemed like he was a combination of those two parental figures, which was intriguing.
“All clear?” Davies asked the three newcomers, and Harry realised he had missed the last part of his explanation, too busy thinking about Blaise. “Great,” he started dealing the cards without waiting for an answer.
“I’m going to just observe the first few rounds, make sure I understand the rules,” the Slytherin explained, and the Ravenclaw just shrugged.
Harry didn’t need to think twice about it before adding, “Same here!” and noticed Blaise’s small smile at his words. But before he could think about it, the game started, and he tried to catch up on the rules he had missed.
Dearborn’s short friend won the first round, and the familiar brunette triumphed in the second round. It took him both rounds to remember where he knew her from. She and the girl sitting next to her were the two Ravenclaws from his and Lexi’s detention with Snape. Shafiq and something starting with B… Or was it an E?
He now knew that the Shafiqs were a light member of the Wizengamot and were one of only three families where the Head of House was passed down from mother to daughter. Lexi had explained that matrilineal titles were a lot more common in other parts of the world and that, in some cultures, they were the norm. After learning that, he had gone down a rabbit hole, reading as much as possible about the four most common succession types in Britain.
Most Houses followed what the books called ‘agnatic-cognatic succession’ rules, where a Lord’s firstborn son automatically became their Heir, and their firstborn son the one after that. Only if that entire branch disappeared would you go to the original Lord’s brother or cousin, always preferring the male line and considering women only if there were no other options.
Learning that his own family followed the same unfair rules was disappointing, to say the least. He had immediately asked Lexi if there was a way to change it once he became Lord Potter, and she had given him a wide smile and explained how the other succession types worked.
Fourteen Houses, like the Boneses, Puceys, McKinnons, Meadow, Lestranges, and Rosier, had absolute primogeniture, meaning that the firstborn always inherited no matter if they were a girl or a boy, and Harry thought that system made a lot more sense. What did someone’s gender matter when they all had access to the same spells?
What Harry found the most fascinating were the five families with special provisions because of family gifts affecting their succession order. For example, House Prewett normally favoured sons over daughters, but there was an asterisk next to that saying that any twins born go straight to the top of the succession line.
Similarly, for the Greengrasses those with prophetic dreams were immediately moved next in line. The Flints had that with earth magic and the Rookwoods with water magic. It was the opposite for House Olivander: if a person displayed a special talent for wandlore, they were moved down from the line of succession so they could focus on their craft.
So yes, he was distracted by Shafiq sitting across from him, considering all the different rules of succession and trying to remember if it was Charlotte’s grandmother or great-grandmother who was currently the Lady of their House. Lexi had mentioned that her parents were killed during the war, even though they hadn’t joined either side, and Harry wondered if everyone his age had been affected by the war.
“Ready to join, or are you too afraid I’ll destroy you?” Shafiq asked him and Blaise, and they shared a look, agreeing that they couldn’t let such a challenge be left unanswered.
“Ready!” they said at the same time, and Harry focused on the game, hoping he had picked up enough of the rules not to embarrass himself.
He did decently in the first two rounds, but it was clear that Blaise was excellent at the game and clearly knew all the rules very well despite saying the opposite earlier. For a moment, Harry considered it might have had something to do with him - perhaps the Slytherin had picked up on his confusion and had wanted to help by giving him an out. But he quickly dismissed that selfish thought. Why would Blaise Zabini care whether Harry was confused or not?
They played another few rounds before Harry finally felt confident and managed to come in second place.
“Nice one!” The Italian complimented him, but then the next round started, and Harry didn’t even get the chance to say ‘thank you.’
The next hour or so, Harry got really into the game, first playing individually, and then when Goldstein left, they were an even number and switched to playing doubles. Dearborn and her friend, who he learned was Syrella Slughorn, played together, and so did George and Davies. Shafiq and the girl, who Harry was almost sure was her girlfriend, made up the third team, leaving him and Blaise.
They played surprisingly well together, the Slytherin’s strategies working wonderfully with Harry’s knack for improvisation. They didn’t win every time, but they usually finished either first or second, mainly fighting with the Dearborn-Slughorn team for victory.
The two girls were formidable opponents, and Harry wasn’t too shocked when he learned that Syrella was Hufflepuff’s Gobstones Captain despite being a fifth-year. She seemed to be thinking ten steps ahead, and only Blaise and Shafiq came close to matching her strategy.
“Slughorn, remind me again, how come you ended up with the badgers? You belong with us.”
Davies teased her good-naturedly after coming in last. She just stuck her tongue out at him in response, and everyone laughed with them.
“Once again, my dear betrothed, I remind you that brilliant people aren’t all destined for Ravenclaw! Some think that hard work is more important than natural talent.” Dearborn argued halfheartedly, and Davies sighed in a way that made it seem like this wasn’t a new argument.
Thanks to Neville, Harry wasn’t too surprised to learn that students a year older than him were already betrothed. Apparently, most purebloods and some half-bloods got betrothed sometime after their fourth year, but before seventh year, it wasn’t too serious or official. From what Harry understood, some families took this tradition very seriously, while others were more flexible and let the children have the final say.
When Harry had asked if Neville already had someone in mind, he had blushed for hours, perhaps thinking of the bubbly Hufflepuff he seemed to enjoy spending time with.
“I need a drink, anyone want one?” Davies announced, and almost everyone asked for something. In the end, George went with him to help him carry all the drinks. Meanwhile, Slughorn was called over by a group of girls, and Shafiq and her teammate were … devouring each other’s faces was the most accurate description he could give.
Definitely more than friends, then.
Harry looked away quickly, not wanting to make them feel uncomfortable. But the truth was he wasn't looking at them because he was interested, rather because he had never seen two women kiss so openly, without being afraid of what people might say or do.
A few days ago, this situation would have given him so much anxiety and left him confused, but Lexi had been very clear on this topic: Wizarding culture was more accepting than his uncle. She had clarified that those who claimed to be traditionalists but had twisted the meaning of the word to suit their own rise to power might have issues with anything that was different from the patriarchal structure that gave them a sense of importance.
But she explained that despite what those individuals might argue, queerness had a long history among wizardkind and that the Mother’s teaching embarrassed all love regardless of sex, gender, or number of participants.
“So, Potter, there is a rumour floating around that you made a magical oath, swearing you didn’t put your name in the Goblet?” Dearborn’s question startled him a bit, but he quickly recovered.
“Yes, that’s true,” he confirmed, saying nothing else and waiting for her reaction.
The Dearborns were on Lexi’s list of families that wanted a seat on the Wizengamot but, despite meeting all the requirements, didn’t have enough support from the voting members. Harry still hadn’t memorised all of those because the list was quite long, but he remembered the note in Lexi’s neat handwriting, “Caradoc Dearborn killed by Death Eaters, leaving behind two daughters: Robin and Darcy. Dearborn family magic: skinchanging, able to enter the minds of animals.”
“I see,” she tilted her head, “Joanna seems to think you and that French witch of yours are planning something. Cosying up to Longbottom, chatting up Bones, and now befriending a Zabini,” Dearborn glanced at Blaise and smirked, “I have to say, you’re beginning to make quite the stir!”
Harry tried not to show his surprise at her words, but did people really pay that much attention to him? He had spoken to the Head Girl only that one time he sat with the seventh-year lions for dinner. Had he really made that much of an impression? He supposed Lexi’s toast might have given them the idea they were planning something… and they were, in a way.
After learning everything he had been shielded from, Harry agreed that he wanted to get away from the Dursleys and get a new guardian. Even if Dumbledore wasn’t as horrible as Lexi claimed, he was still a dreadful guardian.
But he didn’t appreciate the insinuation that he had spoken to Susan or Blaise because he wanted something from them. And even less that his friendship with Neville wasn’t genuine! “I realised how little I knew about my classmates and, with the Gryffindors being intent on hating me, decided to branch out.” He defended himself. “And if you must know, Neville and I are godbrothers, so whatever you’re trying to suggest is wrong!”
Dearborn’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting the last part. “Of course not,” she agreed in a softer tone. “I didn’t mean… it’s just that you’ve changed so much. That’s all.”
“Not all change is bad,” he replied, just then realising how true those words were.
That was when Shafiq and her girlfriend stopped kissing long enough to say a quick ‘bye’, and then giggling, they left the party, hand in hand.
When he looked back at Dearborn, she was smiling at him, and he wondered if she spent her free time skinchanging into foxes or something equally as cunning. “Once you get to know your year mates, if you still want to expand your … circle of friends, you should talk to the fifth years. Especially the girls. We are an interesting group: an Heiresses, four who are close to their Head of House, and there is also Margot, whose mother is high up in the Daily Prophet. And as you probably know, Georgina’s family holds over half of Diagon Alley. Whatever it is that you’re … considering, we could perhaps be of some help.”
Harry really didn’t know what to say to that. Such a straightforward offer of help made him highly suspicious, and even though a small voice reminded him that he had trusted Lexi from the beginning, he was unsure about Dearborn.
“If Hadrian requires an introduction, I can set up a meeting,” Blaise joined the conversation, and Harry was grateful he didn’t have to come up with a response on his own.
So he just confirmed the Italian’s words, “Yes, thank you for the offer, though.”
Dearborn looked between the two of them, smirked, and then slowly got up. “I wish you all the luck, Heir Potter. I am off to rescue Syrella.”
And looking around, Harry saw the girl in question arguing with some blond boy.
“Thanks for that,” he told the boy next to him, who just said, “Don’t mention it, Hadrian.”
And it was unsettled how nice his full name sounded coming from the Italian wizard.
Soon after, George and Davies returned with their drinks, but with only the four of them remaining, they didn’t have enough people to play with, so they just chatted instead. They talked about quidditch, each claiming that their House would dominate next year, and then the sixth-years tried to scare them about their OWLs. And if Harry had to be honest, they succeeded because it sounded horrible!
They went from discussing Moody’s unique teaching to arguing which elective was the best. That was also how Harry learned that Blaise was taking Runes, Arithmancy, and Care, but they were in different sections for the last one. He was shocked to learn that his favourite subject was HOM, which Harry didn’t think was even possible.
“What can I say, my grandfather loves history so my bedtime stories were all about covens in ancient Greece or the Roman Empire.” The Italian had explained, which had started a long conversation about wizarding history and Duca’s Zabini’s collection of historical artefacts.
At some point, Davies had to leave because Dearborn had too much to smoke and was giggling uncontrollably. Judging by his reaction, it wasn’t the first time the Ravenclaw had to take care of his betrothed, but he didn’t seem to mind too much.
That was also when George got up, looking around and chuckling, “I should check on Fred, who knows what he’s up to now.”
“Let me know if you need help carrying him,” Harry joked, but George only nodded, which made him think that was an actual possibility.
That was how he was left alone with Blaise, but he didn’t have the burning desire to get away and hide behind the twins or Neville. Instead, they continued their conversation about life in Italy versus Britain, and the Slytherin shared a bit about his childhood.
“What do you miss the most when you’re here?” Harry asked, fascinated by each detail about the other country, as someone who had never left Britain, the idea of Italy sounded almost as magical as the actual wizarding world.
“The pizza and the sunshine?” came the shallow answer, and Harry told him as much, “Fine, fine! I miss… I miss my grandfather and some of my cousins, our discussions, and … not having to restrict my magic.”
Blaise was looking at him intently, clearly observing his reactions. Perhaps if Lexi hadn’t confessed something similar, he wouldn’t know what that statement even meant.
“I’m still not all caught up on the Wizengamot’s decision-making, but I can see that entire branches of magic were banned because of the possible danger of a few spells. It seems… like an overreaction.” And it really did! Lexi had explained her healing research and the benefits of using dark magic to reverse curse damage, but all that was illegal in Britain. What did it matter if it was dark magic if it could save people’s lives?
Blaise liked his answer, or at least that’s how Harry interpreted the gleam in his eyes and a slight lift of his lips. Lips, which were still wet from the last sip he took.
Stop staring at his lips! He yelled at himself and looked away. He wanted to run away and hit his head against the nearest wall - what if Blaise had seen him staring? What would he think? Why couldn’t Harry be normal just for one night? Just this -
“Would you care for a dance?” Blaise’s question snapped him out of his panic, and it took him longer than he would like to admit before he closed his mouth.
He was absolutely unprepared for such a request because he had never been asked to dance before, let alone by a boy. Not sure if dancing or dancing with a boy in front of all these people was what fried his brain, but he just blinked like an idiot.
“I’m not really much of a dancer,” he finally responded, and when he gathered the courage to look up at Blaise, he didn’t look annoyed. If he had to guess, the Slytherin looked… amused?
“So you’re not looking forward to the Yule Ball dance?”
Harry groaned with frustration, remembering when that had been announced. What made things worse was that, as a Champion, he had to open the bloody thing. He really hoped Lexi would take pity on him and teach him before he embarrassed himself in front of everyone.
“You could say that,” they both laughed, “A tiny part of me is hoping I don’t survive the first task and don’t have to worry about it.”
“I doubt Alexandria agrees with that plan,” Blaise pointed out, and Harry had to agree with him.
In fact, she was putting so much work into getting him ready that he felt guilty, knowing how much work she already had on her plate. “Yeah… definitely not.”
“Well, I’d have to agree with her on this. Any idea who you’re taking?”
He immediately shook his head, “Haven’t got a clue.” the Slytherin seemed oddly pleased for some reason, but Harry was busy thinking about the horror of asking someone to the Ball.
“You’ve still got time,” Blaise tried to reassure him, “Most people who aren’t in a couple are just starting to ask around, so no worries.”
Yes, for now, the massive dragons were a bigger issue. He started to go over some of the spells and tactics he and Lexi had covered this morning and almost missed when the Italian asked him, “I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade next weekend?” Silence, “We could go to Zonko’s and then grab something to drink?”
More silence.
Not even Harry was oblivious enough to misunderstand that question. Blaise was asking him out. As in, going out on a date… with Blaise Zabini.
The first two facts he had learned about the Slytherin were that he was from Italy and that he had a reputation for flirting and being physically affectionate. But he hadn’t done either of those things tonight, which was why Harry was so confused. Had he missed something?
Before he could come up with a response other than Ahhhhhh…, Blaise added, “No pressure if I misunderstood things.”
Had he misunderstood? Harry was still coming to terms with the idea that being gay was fine in the Wizarding world, but he wasn't sure how that applied to him. He might not be as bright as Hermione, but he wasn't completely clueless about the fact that he found boys his age attractive.
But whether that meant he wanted to pursue anything at this point was a completely different question and one he had no answer to. Harry didn't know what it said about him that he wished he could talk to Lexi before having to continue this conversation. But Lexi wasn’t here, and she would probably tell him not to hide from his problems and insecurities.
So he took a deep breath and decided to just open his mouth and see what would happen.
“Yes… I mean, no,” Blaise laughed again, and Harry couldn't deny the sound did something funny to his stomach. “I am still getting used to a lot of things, so I don't know… But I… I don’t think you misunderstood things.” He wanted to smack himself for the useless answer, but the Slytherin seemed to accept it well.
In a soft voice, he assured him, “You should have all the time in the world to figure out what you want. And I can be patient, promise.”
That actually sounded super sweet, and Harry tried not to blush or smile too much. He had never been asked out before. Well, there was Ginny and her Valentine, but didn’t think that counted.
Looking into Blaise’s rich brown eyes, he decided to be brave and admit, “I think… I would like to get to know you better.”
He thought about the Slytherin’s earlier offer for next weekend. Zonko’s was always full of students, so it wasn't a romantic place by any means, and they could go to Madam Rosmerta’s, where it was a miracle to find a private boot. It wasn’t like Blaise was inviting him to Madam Puddifoot's, so it didn’t have to be a big deal, right?
Right?
But he couldn’t lie to himself. Not about this. Going on his first date - with anyone - was a big deal. The real question was if he wanted that person to be Blaise. Clearly, Blaise Zabini was one of the most attractive people he had ever met. Come on, the guy had freaking dimples! Plus, they genuinely seemed to get along, and their night went pretty well.
“Just think about it,” the Italian said with a warm smile, “No rush either-”
“Let's do it,” Harry interrupted him quite rudely and definitely blushed with embarrassment. Oh, why couldn’t he just wait for him to finish?
All the anxiety building up in his brain went away when he noticed Blaise’s beautiful smile. Those dimples were the best stress relief in the world!
“I can't wait,” came the almost shy response, and it just occurred to Harry that the Slytherin might be equally nervous about the whole thing.
Feeling less pressure now, Harry added, “Me too!” and the two laughed at each other’s awkwardness.