Chapter 15: The Foundation

Blaise Zabini

Hogwarts, Great Britain

I was so caught up in answering Mr. Weasley's famous question in art club that I missed the scheduled broom race. It was apparently three laps around the Black Lake, with obstacle courses in the form of floating rings set out to make things interesting. Still, there were more clubs to see so I took my time roaming the grounds.

I was greatly disappointed by the charms club. Not to say that Professor Flitwick wasn't great, but that clubs rarely saw visits from club advisors. He might not be as swamped as Professor McGonagall, but he was still a head of house and Ravenclaw would always be his primary focus. It turned out that rather than learn anything new, it was mostly used as a semi-formal review session. I noted the location and hours just in case but moved on; my own divination-based studying was more useful than this.

Though the president of the enchanting club told me in no uncertain terms that I couldn't join, he did permit lower year students to sit around and watch a demonstration.

The demonstration had a neat premise, though with a somewhat lackluster execution: Club members, and NEWT-level students who knew the right spells, were each given a suit of armor from the Hogwarts corridors and told to animate them for combat. They held a little tournament that honestly looked a little like something out of pokemon.

Unfortunately, these were wizards, not trainers. Or boxers. Or swordsmen. Not one of them knew the first thing about close quarters combat and it showed. The armors mostly just ran at each other until their joints fell apart or they got pushed out of bounds. I wasn't an expert either, but I couldn't help but feel that I could have done better had I known the spells.

After the assault to my eardrums at lunch today, I felt no need to visit the school choir. My singing voice sounded like an opossum getting a barbed wire colonoscopy anyway.

I did hear Neville joined with Trevor the toad. I hoped the club would teach him to come out of his shell a bit.

In the end, I decided to take a bit of time out and head back to my room in the dungeons. School had only just started but I already had people who owed me things, and others I felt I could call on for minor favors. I had the skeleton of a plan to deal with Quirrell. Pettigrew as well… Actually, perhaps I ought to deal with Pettigrew before Quirrell…

I was brought out of my woolgathering when I felt the now-familiar tug of my power activating on its own. A single step took me away from the line of fire as I turned the corner. The cream pie that would have struck my face sailed harmlessly by.

"Cute, Weasleys," I drawled. Sure enough, the twins were just around the corner, already wearing their best innocent grins.

"Afternoon, lovely day-"

"-we're having, eh, chap?" they said. I had to give it to them. They were weirdly in sync, in a way that definitely wasn't just because they were twins.

"Hello, twins," I nodded. "Are you going to throw pie at me every day until I let you hit me?"

"Nah, it'd be boring if you let us win," the one on the left said. While he was talking, I saw the other vanish the mess they'd made. Silent casting, impressive, though perhaps it made sense that this was the one spell they got a lot of practice with. "That one was just to test the waters."

"We're going to need to be a little more creative if we want to overcome our greatest challenge yet, brother."

"That we will. This is just us saying hello-"

"-and to let you know that ickle Violet gave us her message."

"So-"

"-what do you want?" they finished, looking at me expectantly.

I kept walking, cane tapping rhythmically on the stone floor. The twins took either side of me. A passing Slytherin fifth year arched a brow, a silent question if I needed help or not, but I simply nodded and walked by.

"Huh… You know, I haven't fully decided," I told the twins truthfully. "I thought it'd take longer for you to get back to me."

"We thought about making you wait-"

"-then you said the magic words. So-"

"-consider us curious. What do you know?"

"Who were the Marauders?"

I thought about it. Who were they, really?

There was precious little in canon about their school days. Much of what I knew didn't paint them in a positive light either. They were pranksters, yes, but also bullies. Sirius could well have gotten Snape killed by arranging that encounter with Lupin during the full moon.

They were reckless but well-meaning. Foolish, but in a way that made me believe they could have been better people as they matured. By all accounts, James Potter had become a better person for Lily Evans.

I said none of this. "Messers Prongs, Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail."

"Yup. You know about the map."

"I do. And I also know their heir. Only one had a child, but they're in Hogwarts. Will you return their birthright? Or will you play dumb and keep it for yourselves?"

"That depends, doesn't it brother-mine?"

"That it does, brother-mine. Blood isn't the only thing that makes an heir-"

"-no matter what you snakes may think-"

"-we must also consider their spirit of mischief. A worthy prankster-"

"-is one with a creative mind-"

"-and an adventurous heart."

I nodded along. It didn't matter if they gave Violet the map anyway. "That's fine. Hang onto it for now then. Just know that they will need it one day."

"Oh? We could decide if we had more information, you know."

"Nope. Nothing is free. If you want to know the history of the map, its creators, and the one who holds their legacy, you'll have to pay like everyone else."

"Pay? Surely not!" They gasped as one. "Goes right against the prankster spirit, that does."

"Feel free to keep trying to prank me then," I said with a shrug. "I do take payment in the form of services, you know. Just think of this as an advertisement of sorts. Like you said, a 'hello,' nothing more for now."

"So it is, Zabini. We'll be-"

"-in touch. Let's call this a declaration of war-"

"-not quite, brother-mine, a declaration of friendly competition? Yes, that sounds right."

They walked off with a synchronized wave. It was a little disconcerting; even Padma and Parvati weren't this coordinated.

I really didn't know what I wanted of them quite yet. My original idea was to use them to acquire Scabbers, but that didn't seem wise. Rumors about my abilities had probably made their rounds by now. With people from different houses making it clear that I was the real deal, it wouldn't surprise me if Ron talked about me in his dorm.

In which case, if I just tried to buy the rat off Ron, he would naturally be suspicious. It was natural to wonder what I knew that he didn't. Worse, Pettigrew might hear that the buyer was a confirmed seer. He was a coward, but I didn't think he was so dumb as to just let me take him.

No, my efforts to advertise my ability did have downsides. Simply trying to buy the rat directly was unlikely to end in my favor.

I'd think of something. The twins would be useful connections to have even if I didn't involve them in the Scabbers issue.

X

The impromptu meeting with the twins did mean I didn't have enough time to go to my dorm before the last thing I wanted to see today: an exhibition duel between two seventh years hosted by the dueling club.

The clubroom was actually two classrooms that had been merged into one. Similar to the setup from the movie, a long platform had been built in the center. It was draped with a deep, midnight-blue carpet with golden stars intricately detailed along the sides. A full moon marked the halfway point, fading in either direction with the various phases until the duelist's circle was denoted by the pitch-black of the new moon.

On each end of the stage stood two students, one from Gryffindor, stereotypes were stereotypes for a reason, and the other from Hufflepuff. Both looked confident and had been a part of the club for years. The two joked with each other in a way that made it clear they didn't take this seriously. No matter who won, there wouldn't be any bad blood from this.

The club president, a Ravenclaw girl with a hawkish nose, held out a hand for silence. "Alright, you lot. Let me start by explaining the rules of dueling as a sport. It's quite simple: One, there are three judges per match in an official tournament. Two, duelists may not cross the halfway mark, here marked by the full moon. Three, the duel ends when a duelist is deemed incapable of fighting back. Note that I said 'incapable of fighting back,' not that they be disarmed. The two are not the same thing. Can anyone tell me why?"

"Several cultures around the world do not rely on wands," Evan Yaxley drawled. "Uagadou, one of the other seven major wizarding schools, has an entire track for wandless wizards."

"Correct. Though European wizards favor wands, this might not be the case depending on where the witch or wizard is from. When the International Confederation of Wizards adopted dueling as an internationally recognized sport in 1892, they instituted some new rules to include other magical traditions. Now, immobilizing or stunning someone, such as by petrificus or stupefy, or the local equivalent, is considered the winning play.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

"However, in tournaments, duels sometimes have timers to move things along. If the timer runs out and both duelists remain able to continue, it will come down to a decision by the judges. The same applies should a duelist be accused of cheating, such as via potions taken beforehand, or by the use of illegal spells.

"By 'illegal' here, I mean spells outlawed by the tournament, not the ministry. The list of banned spells differs depending on the tournament organizers and hosting country so it's important to have a look beforehand. Some spells, such as the unforgivables and fiendfyre, are universally banned. For our purposes, Abbott and Poole will be dueling with our club's own banlist in effect, which you can read at a later time. Now, are both duelists ready?"

"About time, Parsani," the Gryffindor, I had no idea whether he was Poole or Abbott, said. "You talk too much. I've got five galleons riding on this, you know."

"Oh, shut it, Poole. Now, in tournament fashion. Bow to each other."

The two stood ramrod straight before holding their wands in front of their faces as if they were swords. They took a bow, stooping to forty-five degrees while still maintaining eye contact. It reminded me very much of fencing.

Then, when they rose, Parsani slashed her wand down, creating a loud bang.

The badger started off with a rapidfire string of hexes, most of which I didn't recognize. The final stroke of each wand led directly into the next in an unending river of weak but numerous spells. Avis into stupefy into the locomotor wibbly and a dozen more varieties that I wouldn't be learning until much later on.

I was impressed. The spell chain was one that was obviously well-practiced. It included a nice combination of spells meant for distraction and spells that could potentially end the fight right away.

And yet, the Gryffindor didn't seem worried in the least. He sidestepped the first few spells and froze the birds using immobulus, the freezing charm Hermione used to stop Lockhart's pixies in second year, before holding his ground with a protego maxima. He seemed content to turtle behind his shield, waiting out his opponent.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cheryl Dupree, the fourth year who'd asked for help finding her hairpin, approach. I wasn't surprised to see her here; she was supposedly a talented duelist and a member of the club.

"Any predictions for a quick galleon?" she asked, only partially joking.

"Nah. Knowing takes the fun out of it, no?" I replied with an easy smile.

"Hmm… The Hufflepuff house motto, how quaint," she drawled, gaining some dark looks from a group of puffs standing nearby.

"I'd appreciate any insights you have about the duel though."

"Sure, why not. Poole there favors a dueling style that heavily relies on defense. He'll frustrate his opponent and then try to finish the duel with one or two decisive counterstrikes."

I eyed the Gryffindor appraisingly. "Isn't protego taxing? Protego maxima especially?"

"It is," she allowed, a hint of grudging respect for the older boy in her voice. "He has a lot more magic than others in his year for whatever reason so he can afford to be a bit wasteful."

"And a shield means he doesn't have to try to find a counterspell for everything Abbott has?"

"Yup. There are some shieldbreakers out there, but they take a long time to cast and Poole knows to look out for them. No guarantee they'll work on a maxima variant either."

"And what about Abbott?" I nodded to the Hufflepuff. He had yet to tire even once, relentlessly battering away at Poole's protego. "He likes fast, weak spells I take it?"

"Yup. He tries to chain spells together and overwhelm his opponents. It works too. Poole's one of the few students in the club he can't beat this way."

"Huh. And which style is better in your opinion?"

"Tough question. It depends. I know that sounds like a copout answer, but it does," she said. "Abbott's spellchains? Those were popularized by Professor Flitwick. He used to be the international dueling champion, you know."

"I do. More than once if I remember right."

"Yup. The problem with that style is that it can be predictable and lock you into a set pattern of behavior. Abbott's fast with his wand, but pretty much everyone in the club knows what spell comes after what by now. Professor Flitwick became champion by being able to innovate on the fly and that's not something a lot of people can do."

"So it's fast but mechanically predictable unless the duelist is very creative and has a really large library to draw from."

"That's right. Poole on the other hand? Well, that much is obvious, right?" she asked. We watched as he cut his shield and dodged out of the way of a shieldbreaker. "What happens when a shield isn't strong enough?"

"Point. And your own style?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

The two of us continued to watch the duel, Cheryl tossing in her own commentary once in a while. By her own admission, both students were better than her by a fair bit, but not so much that she couldn't recognize all of the spells being used. It seemed that at their level, the difference was not necessarily in knowledge, but experience, speed, and power.

Poole won in the end, his defenses too much for Abbott to overcome, but it was close. The duel left both men visibly exhausted. Abbott handed over five galleons as promised, though without any hard feelings.

"So, thinking about joining?" Cheryl asked. "I could show you the ropes."

I considered it. The offer came with strings attached, because of course it did, but it wasn't necessarily a bad idea to latch onto a competent upper year, especially one with friends in the dueling club. I didn't doubt that I would one day be forced to rely on these skills. Hell, even if I decided to leave Violet to hang altogether, given who my mother was, there was a good chance some jilted lover would want to kill me to get back at her.

"Maybe," I muttered. I tapped the ground with my cane for emphasis. "Ask me again in a month or two?"

"Ah, right. You're going to need to be a lot more mobile unless you want to adopt Poole's style."

"Yeah."

There was also the Room of Requirement to consider. I didn't think I'd be lacking access to spells, at least not anything the dueling club could provide me. More than anything, I wanted to master the Sight. Turning it into a haki-equivalent would go a long way to keeping me safe, even if my own repertoire lagged behind slightly as a result. After all, I didn't need a dozen different kinds of bullets; I just needed one, and the perfect opportunity.

X

The next day was supposed to be a continuation of much the same, but I opted to skip out on that. Other than the broom-centric clubs, the only clubs I hadn't seen were choir, which was an unredeemable shitshow I refused to acknowledge; magizoology, which was hosting a petting zoo of all things; and astronomy, which sounded rather unhealthy for my already delicate sleep schedule.

Besides, I had astronomy today. While Professor Sinistra was willing to allow me to skip her midnight class on account of Professor Snape's notes, that came at the cost of spending Sunday afternoon in one-on-one tutoring.

"You're on time," Professor Sinistra said. Aurora Sinistra was an extremely tall woman. She stood a full head and shoulders above me and wore a set of elegant, navy robes that sported dancing constellations. She had her hair teased into tight cornrows and studded with silver stars that contrasted nicely with her dark hair. "Good, I had wondered if you would conveniently forget about this lesson."

I had the sneaking suspicion that I wasn't her favorite student. Then again, if some kid made me work on a Sunday, I'd probably feel pretty miffed as well.

"This is a class, professor," I said diplomatically. Winning her over shouldn't be too difficult; I actually liked the subject. "Being late would waste both my time and yours."

"So it would, Mr. Zabini. Please, take a seat." She gestured to the seat nearest to her. "Take a seat. I take it you have kept abreast of the material you missed Wednesday nigh?"

"Yes, professor. You had us reading up on the planets in our solar system and the Greek zodiac."

"Good. We'll start with a little, informal quiz to make sure you've been reading. Get out your notes and write down anything you don't know. We can talk about those more as we go. Which of the planets is most commonly found in texts concerning divination?"

"Mars, though I believe it to be because of selection bias on the part of wizards, not because Mars is in any way more magical than the other planets. People are more interested in foretelling conflict and strife rather than good harvest, benevolent rule, or love," I said.

"Yes, I suppose that would be an easy one for you. Name one magical creature whose life cycle is influenced by the celestial bodies."

"Werewolves if you consider them magical creatures."

"And if I do not?" she asked with an arched brow.

"The glimmershoe crab mates once per year on the night of the brightest full moon. Their eggs can only be harvested on that night because the eggs become intangible shortly after being laid."

"Correct, in part. The eggs can be harvested during subsequent full moons as well as they phase in and out of existence with the moon's wax and wane. The Orion's lament, what is it?"

"It is a type of herb that is harvested only once per year."

"When?"

"Ah…"

"Why is it called that?" she asked, nudging me along.

"Because… Because the plant's flower opens each night to follow the Scorpio constellation. It chases Orion across the sky, and so is his lament," I answered, the story giving me the nudge needed to remember. "It can only be harvested for a short while when Scorpio is rising just past the horizon."

"Not quite. Professor Sprout knows more, but it is a plant that can be harvested at several points throughout the year. However, the plant's medicinal properties differ and 'Scorpio's dawn' variants are the most sought after."

I dutifully wrote that down. That wasn't in the book, but I doubted that excuse would fly with her. Professor Sinistra was well-aware that astronomy was boring for most. A class dominated by rote memorization would never compete to hold children's interests against the likes of charms.

To offset this, she liked to give us practical examples in which knowing astronomy might help. Orion's lament was worth a mere nine knuts. The Scorpio's dawn variant? More than six sickles depending on the year. She also knew a great deal about mythology and history, both the muggle and magical variants, and did her best to tie in little anecdotes whenever she could.

Having her to myself like this, I realized that she was a much better storyteller than a teacher. I wasn't interested in astronomy beyond its implications in divination, but she talked about the stars with such passion that I found myself captivated anyway.

All things considered, it wasn't a bad way to spend Sunday afternoon.

X

The rest of my weekend was uneventful. I helped someone find his lost kneazle, did my homework for Tuesday, and made a note of the painting of Barnabas the Barmy so I could find the Room of Requirement when there weren't quite so many people wandering about. I then headed up to the owlery to have dinner.

The owlery smelled stale, of bird poop and musty feathers, but that was a small price to pay for the company of the queen of this roost. Of course, the privacy afforded by its isolation wasn't bad here either.

I gave Minerva a quick hug and called, "Tubby? May I speak to Tubby the house elf?"

There was a soft pop and the house elf in question, one I'd learned to recognize by a distinct crinkle in his left ear, appeared. "How can Tubby be helping Young Master Blazey?"

That evening with Daphne and Tracey hadn't been the only time I'd visited the kitchens over the past week. In fact, it was a bit of a tossup as to whether I'd be present for meals at all. One might argue that this deprived me of opportunities to influence my classmates, or perhaps to make connections and alliances, but I would argue that I was making connections and alliances.

The Hogwarts elves were an absurdly underutilized resource. They were a group of brownie-like entities who could apparate in Hogwarts, had incredible magical power, and possessed an innately favorable attitude towards students. So long as I remained polite, didn't get in the way of their duties, and didn't harm Hogwarts or its students, they would be accommodating. More than that, they'd be delighted at the notion of getting more work.

In that lens, what greater ally could I hope to make than a house elf who liked me personally?

And so I'd taken to learning the name of one elf in particular, asking for his personal assistance as much as I was able. To my delight, he had taken to calling me "young master," not unlike Pooky, the Zabini family elf, did. We didn't have a magical bond or anything, but he too had learned to differentiate me from the other students and that was a great sign.

"I think I may have lost track of time taking care of my owl," I told him. I put some of that Zabini family charm to work and gave him the most benign smile I could. "Minerva is such a fussy lady, you know. I know it's not proper, but would the kitchen elves mind if I took dinner here instead of the great hall?"

"Of course, Master Blazey. Tubby will bring you a plate."

"Thanks, Tubby, you're the best."

"Tubby be doing his job, Master Blazey."

"Say, if you ever find a dead rat around the castle towers, please toss it Minerva's way. I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

"Tubby will be doing that, sir."

"Thanks again. What would Hogwarts do without you?"

He let out a happy giggle and popped away. Not ten seconds later, I had a plate of mince pie and mash. I happily scooped out a spoonful of steaming mince and placed it on my hand for Minerva to try. Really, elves were the unsung heroes of the wizarding world.

They were also so delightfully simple to manipulate.

Author's Note

No, I'm not going to make a "house elf hit squad," though that would indeed let me check one more square off my tropes bingo.

No, I did not update any of my stories last Friday. I was off in California for a wedding. It was nice, if a little too "clubby" for me. I felt old watching everyone dance.

Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.