Blaise Zabini

Sir,

I apologise for not writing by return owl, but I had need of your bird for other, more urgent purposes. I've directed the Protector's Fund for the Restoration of Forest Troll Habitat to return her to you directly.

As to your concerns, yes, indeed (of course), I did authorise payment to the following in the sums you mention:

* The Bowtruckle Protection Society
* Foundation for Fecundity (Wizarding infertility is one of the most important concerns of our time)
* Opera for the Infirm (I find it surprising you've never heard of them: they put on performances of classical operas for the residents of the Vale of Health.)
* Our Lord's Committee for the Recovery and Promotion of Ancient Languages (The Gnomish society, yes.)
* The Society for the Promotion of Improving Lovely Literature (SPILL)
* The Spattergroit Research Foundation
* Supporters of the Dark Forgotten (Obviously, yes, this is the group that provide funds to defray living expenses of those unjustly punished under the old regime for supposed 'crimes'. Yes, I realise that the affected population has dwindled, but surely, sir, you see the importance of supporting this worthy cause while even one remains alive of those amnestied by Our Lord following his liberation of the realm; they were martyred for studying the Arts or for repulsing muggles, subjected to appalling punishments for holding fast to Truth and Honour, and they deserve our care as they live out their desperate lives.)
* The Youth Quidditch League of South Yorkshire

Oh, and to spare you the need of asking, I wrote two additional contribution cheques yesterday: one to the Protectorate Society for the Cultivation of Giant Hogweed, which is doing excellent, needful work to restore our realm's natural beauty; and the second to the Protector's Fund for Research into Alternative Resources, which is turning Bundimun bi-products into excellent cleaning solutions with extensive applications in the transport sector.

I trust this soothes your concerns. I'll remind you that now I'm of age, what I do with my galleons is entirely my lookout.

Yours in Our Lord's Service,
Blaise Zabini

I can't believe you.

For the record, I'm not taking it as a compliment that you share my taste in witches.

You could at least wait until I'm done with them before you try pulling them at parties.

Say. I find I've this evening free.

What do you say we have a nice supper somewhere. The Thames Room, maybe? We could walk the Embankment before since the weather's fair.

I'll stop for you at half-five, shall I?

I'm in the Entrance Hall. Where are you lot?

Got Professor Grubbly-Plank to lend us some of her dragonhide kit yesterday--three pair of gauntlets, two aprons, and a small sack with strong fire-repelling charms on. She didn't have anything big enough to put one of those things in, but maybe if we cut off the stinger end, that'd be enough of a trophy to bring back.

At breakfast... when you were thanking me for the odd gift I'd given you... I didn't like to say, but I'd no idea what you were on about and thought maybe someone else had given you something, which would have been awkward.

I didn't realise then that so many people had got copies of that ridiculous book. That was it, wasn't it?

I suppose I hadn't had enough tea yet to guess what you meant. And you were being particularly obtuse, you know?

Say, Jones. I need to have a private word with you. This evening if you can manage it.

No sign of the elves, yet. What's taking so long?

It's not as if I didn't pay you enough to expect it here when we agreed. If it's the presentation plate, then send that along tonight. I want to get it installed by supper, you know. And the light's already failing out there. It really is as straight forward as you said to resize and set the anchor charms?


I'd have thought you'd be pleased to have your work presented to Buckingham. But it's my loyalty, not yours that looks shabby if the thing doesn't arrive, isn't it, blast you.

So has Flinchley made up his mind?

Honestly.

If he's still waffling, we should bag it and ask Vince.

I should have invited you for last night, instead, but I was really very glad you came Thursday when the Mulcibers were here.

Honestly. She couldn't have waited until after school starts? I was just a pretext there, you know: introducing me to those who are shaping our realm as I grow closer to my entry into society is cover for her real purpose. She knows things are changing and she wants to resecure her place.

I apologise if she made you uncomfortable. She is who she is with wizards 'worth notice'. Your asking that made me a bit more pointedly attentive to it last night, and it was... notable. She was holding court for Antonin Nikolaevich and Auror Crouch, and with the two of them being the way they are with each other, it puts her 'interest' in a rather different light. I don't find Mother amusing very often, but last evening with Antonin Nikolaevich and Amara Mitiku discussing the rituals of their ancestors in the holy lands of Nile and Sun, I could see her thinking how very much they have in common... Well.

If it weren't for Mr Cooper...

If it weren't for Mr Cooper, Amara Mother might find herself sadly mistaken about interesting Professor Dolohov.

As for the flying, I'm not as sad as you suppose to have missed the CCF's further adventures on brooms. I'm glad it was Finnigan and not me. Though, cheers to Auror Braithewaite for stamping out dissidence and perversion in the realm. I'm certain the combined forces of MLE are feeling well pleased today.

I'm free this afternoon. I made my packing list the first day back and won't need to do anything further except board the train on time. What do you have in mind? Boutiquing? A pleasant tea? If you haven't had your fill of Mother, you could come again tonight. It will be the Baddocks and Spinx this time, and Fintan O'Hearne, the poet, and his partner, Donal Somethingorother, who plays instruments of some kind. All very Gaelic O'Toodle, I'm thinking. But pleasant, of course, because Mother has standards.

I've just got loose after spending all morning captive again. And I'm splinched. Well, they healed it, but it bloody hurts.

Are you even out there? I'm getting conflicting directional signals from the charm, and I'm not bloody well tromping the wrong direction just to get myself caught or killed again. Just tell me where you need me to be, and I'll come.

Are you coming along to Teds' on Friday? He asked me if I thought you would, and I told him I'd ask. Not sure why he couldn't ask himself.

At any rate, it gives me a chance to say that I'm glad you brought Daphs to Avery's and that there won't be any awkwardness on my part if you were to ask her as your plus-one again. I hope you knew that already.

I'm rather looking forward to being away next week. It's really time I spoke to Mother about finding a flat of my own somewhere. I'm sure she'd enjoy decorating and furnishing it. That would give her a new outlet. She seems bored this summer.

Urquhart and I have been talking with Pennifold and Montague, and we all agree it would be nice to have a drinks hour before tonight's formal supper. It will give us all a chance to toast Nott, whose birthday is today.

Four o'clock in the common room: hope to see you there.

I hope this morning finds you well, Mother, and that you have a pleasant day.

I remember once when I was small--I think it was one Mother's Day--that we went to the Protector's park with Mr Guchkov to feed the ducks. It was warm and the spring flowers were all blooming, and we sang a Russian song about sunshine that Dmitri Ivanovich taught us. Do you remember?

It was nice.

Give my best to Mr Cooper. Is he working on some grand new installation now?

I look forward to seeing you soon. I'll just hire a hansom cab from the station, shall I?

Until then,
Blaise

Honestly. The Keeper Weasel is worse than last time, which ought to have been impossible. Appears he thinks his job is to dodge out of the way whenever Hufflepuff throw a Quaffle his way.

Oh, well done there Weasel! Well ducked!

Of course, Hufflepuff are in complete disarray. I mean, it was sporting of Diggory to scramble his side's positions so they wouldn't completely overwhelm Gryffindor with their blazing mediocrity, but I'm giving this match another half hour and if it's not over or called for incompetence, I'm going in. I'd rather revise History of Tedium than sit here dripping with ice to watch this mess.

Dear Miss Brown,

Would you favour me with your company for tomorrow's Hogsmeade excursion? If you would join me, I would be most obliged.

I thought we might meet in the entrance hall so I could escort you for the walk to the village. I have reservations for a quiet table in one of the nicest establishments for luncheon, and of course we'll have leisure to avail ourselves of the other pleasures and entertainments of the town before and afterwards.

I hope you will do me the honour of accompanying me.

Yours with sincere admiration,
Blaise Zabini

And if we should fail and fall, we do so full aware
Sing tow, row, row, row, row, row...
Sing tow,
          row,
                    row,
                              row,
                                        row,
                                                  row,
                                                            for the Lord Protector.


And a fine time was had by all, what?

G'night, ladies.

Did you see Teds got a message at the end of lunch? He's supposed to be in Runes, but he got sent to the Matron instead.

Can't wait to hear what that's about. Especially since he hasn't seemed fussed at all about any of it so far.

Unlike Greg and Vince. Do they think they're going to be sent down over this? Afraid of their fathers, I expect. Only, I've always had the idea their families aren't all that set on either of them sitting NEWTs, but I suppose they really do need to make it through OWLs.

I'm expecting the Slytherin team to clothe itself in glory on Saturday. I've missed Quidditch, and I can't wait to see the new arena in action!

Not that it's likely to be much a contest.

A few of us happened to pass the pitch last evening and noticed the Gryffindor side fumbling through a practice. Not sure what to say about it, except that poor Johnson will be lucky if they manage to score a single goal.

And for those inclined to wager, the smart galleons are on there being a gigantic spread. Ron Weasley appears to believe his position is meant to assist the quaffle in passing through the goal hoops. (Don't anyone tell him otherwise until after Saturday, yeah?)

OWLs year, then. I can't say I find it overly daunting. Rather, it's a challenge, and a welcome one, along with the other responsibilities that come with advancing to the upper forms of the school.

It's been most interesting this week, taking the measure of what's different this term--more demanding assignments and a good deal more reading, of course; new emphasis on certain parts of the curriculum; a few staffing changes; more YPL and CCF offerings; and certain definite improvements in our accommodations--all changes for the better.

Marvolo, obviously, all of Our Lord's people are behind you, but I hope you know that Slytherin House and your year-mates are supporting you most of all.

Best luck, mate!

I'm not cross you didn't come along to Hogsmeade. It's only Hogsmeade, after all, but listen: you can't stay in your room all the time until term ends.

We can make sure you're never alone. Draco, Teds, Vince, Greg, Harry, Pansy, Perks and I, and Milli, we can make sure he's got no chance of cornering you. We'll walk you to lessons and meals and keep you covered here in Slytherin--wherever you go, we'll be right there. We'll make sure that if he tries anything, it ends up with him at the bottom of the lake or getting himself expelled.

And, Daphs, I talked to Gamp yesterday. She didn't tell me what she's holding over him, but she's got something for certain. You should talk to her. Find out what sort of thing it is. See if she's got ideas what you could use that he'd have to take seriously.

Listen. She's still worried about him. And this is what I really didn't like: she told me she's worried what will happen when term ends and she's home--she feels safer here at school. I hadn't thought about it that way, but I see what she means, and it's not good. We've got to figure out something that convinces him to leave you alone permanently, full stop.

Teds and I are coming back down to the common room. We'll be there all day, and I told Vince and Greg to stick close in case they're needed. We'll be sure Bole knows we won't let him touch you.

Say. I can see there's something wrong.

You're avoiding me and making an entirely unsubtle job of it.

And Bole-

Nevermind about him.

No, I do mind what he's doing to you. That's the point.

Really, it has to stop.

I know you won't want any sort of scene, but I say, there must be something you know--or something of his you could get hold of--that we could use to help him see his life would be more promising if he'd leave off meddling with you.

I'd really like it if you'd come with me for Mother's nuptials on the 6th. The thing itself will just be the necessary witnesses, Cooper and Mother. She's told me I needn't be there, and I'm certainly not going to protest that. But there's a reception and then a supper, and I hope you'll come.

I think you'll have your own invitation sometime this week, though knowing Mother, she may have decided it would be more appropriate to include you on the card to your parents. Whatever. I'm inviting you, and it would make me feel very much better about the whole business if you'll be there.

Listen, you lot.

Whoever made off with my copy of The Prophet, I want it back. WITH the insert.

Nott. It better not have been you.

Say. Did you hurt yourself when you slipped yesterday? You're holding your shoulders as if you're a bit sore.

Or are you just that annoyed with Bole? If it's that, then you should know it's showing.

Unless that's what you wanted.