It was a lazy afternoon in mid-August, the sun shining overhead and causing the vast estate amidst the trees to appear almost ethereal to anyone passing by. Of course, most people driving through this area of the countryside a short distance from Tuscany would never even notice the large manor house hidden amongst the large trees and gardens. If they did see anything, their minds would see the ruins of an old castle, looking in their guidebooks to find that it was private land and that Zabini castle once stood on these grounds.
The castle had fallen apart during the mid-seventeenth century, Augustus Zabini rebuilding by using the remaining part of the castle and adding on several wings for his large family. Since that time, the only remainder of the original family castle, first built by Orginto Zabini over a thousand years ago was a tower with an excellent view of the stars at night from the room that could be locked from the outside, a few crumbling walls around a part of the garden, and a part of the dungeon that now housed a large library of books in numerous languages from all over the world.
The current heir to the Zabini family fortune was enjoying the warm sunshine and making the most of his last few weeks before school began for his final year at Hogwarts, a school for wizards and witches located in Scotland. He attended the distance school just as his ancestors had since it originally opened. The Zabini’s had graduated from Hogwarts for ever generation as far back as he cared to count.
His family on his Mum’s side had also attended the famed Scottish school so there had never been any question that he would be a student at Hogwarts, the owl arriving after his eleventh birthday to confirm that, once again, a Zabini was Hogwarts bound. He had been sorted in Slytherin House, just as every Zabini since the beginnings of the school’s history, though he also possessed traits of his Mum’s former house, Ravenclaw, giving him an edge over the majority of his House mates.
He was spending his last summer before his final year at his family’s country house with his best friend and lover. The two wizards had spent the last two months swimming, readying for upcoming classes by reading ahead to give them an advantage over their classmates, keeping up with the news of the War via various newspapers, and pretty much doing nothing very productive. The Zabini family had remained neutral during the War, smart enough to know that choosing a side meant the possibility of losing and that would not be acceptable.
There was no particular dislike for Muggles amongst this old Pureblood family, but there was also no particular fondness for the creatures either. The Zabini family was one of the oldest families amongst the Purebloods, though there were now Muggleborns mixed within the lineage of some distant branches. Andres Zabini, the current patriarch, saw no problem with Muggleborns marrying into Pureblood families, not supporting the belief that such unions weakened the bloodlines. His sister had married a Muggleborn and their children had proven to be extremely talented and adept at business and magic, his two primary interests besides his family.
The two wizards had celebrated when they had received their issue of the Daily Prophet announcing Voldemort’s defeat. The current heir, Blaise Zabini, and his best friend, Draco Malfoy, had remained neutral but both were intelligent to know that a victory from the Dark Lord would have been most unpleasant. They had used the images of the annoying wanker Harry Potter, the hero of the War as proclaimed by every newspaper in the Wizarding world, for hexing practice, neither fond of the Gryffindor that attended their school.
In fact, Draco went so far as loathing the dark-haired wizard who had defeated Voldemort with the help of his little friends, believing the boy to merely lucky and not particularly bright or deserving. Blaise just found him irritating and a bit whiny during the classes they had shared, though he was more disinterested than anything else. He had evaluated Potter at the beginning of their first year and dismissed him as not worthy of his time, that opinion supported during the following six years of observation. There were very few students at his school that he paid any attention to, mostly the limited minority that appeared to actually think for themselves and possessed a shred of intelligence or magical ability.
Draco was a snob who rarely accepted anyone that was not Pureblood or in a different social class than himself, while Blaise was an intellectual snob who rarely spoke to anyone. Those he deemed admirable earned his attention and he would occasionally listen to their thoughts during class, though he rarely ever spoke to anyone. He was very reserved at school, valuing his privacy and doing his best to be ignored and overlooked. His best friend was the opposite, doing whatever it took to be the center of attention and thriving on having everyone know his name, taking great pride in being considered one of the most attractive wizards at the school and having a bit of a fan club amongst the witches and even the occasional wizard.
On this particular afternoon, one would find them out by the pool enjoying the sun’s warmth. Blaise Zabini was laying in a chair by the pool, his body darkening to a gorgeous shade of bronze from its normal golden complexion from the amount of time he had spent outdoors this summer. His thick black hair was naturally wavy and annoyingly curly when wet, long on top and falling to his neck, one irritating lock constantly brushing against his forehead.
A magazine was laying open on his lap, Potions Monthly with an article about the effects of Mandrake root ignored as he watched his best friend frolic in the pool, a slight smile on his full lips. He was tall and skinny, his shoulders and arms surprisingly muscular considering his lanky frame. He had inherited his Mum’s eyes, a gorgeous dark blue, indigo, that darkened until they were nearly black when he was particularly emotional. His face was long with high cheekbones and a nose that he had inherited from his Father, long and slightly fat.
His best friend was a physical contrast. Draco Malfoy was an average height shorter than many wizards in his class, though he had a presence and arrogance that caused many to never notice his lack of height. He had pale blond hair that was nearly white after the days in the sun this summer, falling to his chin and just above his neck. He left it loose, liking the way it fell against his face and gave him a deceptively angelic look, earning him appreciate glances and allowing him to play upon his looks to get his way whenever the situation warranted such a thing.
He was slender, his arms and chest muscular, his abdomen flat and developed. One of his favorite past times, Quidditch, had given him a sleek build and made him far stronger than one might believe. His eyes were an unbelievable shade of pale gray, though they became stormy and darkened when he was angry or aroused. His nose was pointed, but instead of detracting from his looked, it gave him an aristocratic appearance that complimented his superior attitude. Thin upper lip, his lower lip plump and full. It was those lips that had caught Blaise’s attention that afternoon.
The raven-haired wizard had become distracted from his magazine after hearing Draco splashing around. He had given up trying to read, knowing that his best friend hated being ignored and would continue to make more noise and attempt to engage him in conversation until he had the attention he so desperately craved. Draco had been happy this summer, more so than he had ever been in the eleven years that they had been friends. They had first met at a formal party when they were five. Blaise had been sitting in a corner reading a book, ignoring the festivities going on around him, aloof even at that tender age.
Draco had found him and proceeded to annoy him until he’d quit reading to tell the little blond boy to go away. Needless to say, the spoiled Malfoy had not taken kindly to being ignored and rejected. He had taken Blaise’s book and run into the gardens. Blaise had followed to get his book back and they’d fought until they’d both fallen into the pond and soaked their formal clothes. Emerging from the water, they had started to laugh and that had sealed their friendship. It had also set the precedent for the years to come. Blaise tended to spend his time reading and studying while Draco made it a past time to distract him and draw him out his shell occasionally.
This summer, Draco had stayed with him at his family’s home to get away from the United Kingdom and the War raging there. Lucius Malfoy had died in prison the previous December and Narcissa Malfoy had quickly left the country, sending owls from all over as she traveled the world. Draco had stayed with him in Italy over the Holidays, that being when their friendship had become strengthened and they had become lovers.
Draco knew more about him than anyone else, accepted him as he was, and Blaise loved the blond wizard for that unconditional love. They never spoke of love, of course, but it was their. They were aware that things were serious between them and they didn’t have to say a lot of poetic words to know that they had something special. He didn’t hold Draco’s Father against him, knowing that his friend hated Muggleborns and Muggles but that Draco would never have become a Deatheater, even if it meant opposing his Father.
The blond was too smart too choose a side, knowing that the wrong choice might mean death and valuing his life far too much for such risk ventures. It had been a relief to Draco when his Father was put in prison. Oh, it hadn’t started off that way. He’d been bitter and blamed Potter and his friends and had vowed revenge, not wanting to believe his Father was capable of the things in which he was accused. However, he had invited Blaise to stay with him for a few weeks that summer before sixth term.
He’d confessed that he had had time to think without his Father telling him what to think and that he had formed his own opinions about Voldemort, declaring his neutrality privately, not making his stance officially known until Lucius’ death and his refusal of an invitation to join Voldemort. The Dark Lord had not been happy at the rejection, attempting to attack the Manor but not succeeding. Voldemort’s death was a great relief for both of them, neither choosing to fight in the War but both in danger regardless because of their position.
“Are you going to sit there all day or do you plan to swim?” Draco asked as he climbed out of the pool. His hands moved through his hair, squeezing the water from it before flicking his fingers at Blaise.
“I was attempting to read my magazine but someone was making too much noise,” Blaise said dryly, rolling his eyes as Draco gave him what constituted an innocent smile for the blond, which was actually more like a devilish smirk.
“Are you hearing voices in your head again, Zabini?”
“Yes, one particularly whiny one that has a constant need for attention.”
“I do not have a constant need for attention,” Draco defended with a smug smile, “you just have difficulty concentrating on anything else whenever I’m around. Trust me, Zabini. It‘s not easy being this handsome and intelligent.”
Before Blaise could respond, he noticed an owl flying towards them. It was a non-descript brown owl, definitely not a note from his parents who were in Jamaica for a holiday. It was also not Narcissa’s owl, the only person whom knew that Draco was staying for the summer. He and Draco exchanged a curious glance before watching the owl to see to whom it delivered the letter.
The brown barn owl settled down between them, two heavy envelopes clutched in it's talons. The thick, yellow envelopes and the familiar script both enlightened them as to whom the letters came from. Hogwarts. Blaise leaned over towards the owl, removing it's burden. One for him and the other addressed to Draco. He wasn't in the least surprised the Dumbledore knew that Draco was staying with him.
Wordlessly the dark haired wizard handed Draco his Hogwarts letter. Neither looked too enthusiastic about opening the letter, other then the books, nothing changed. It was more of a nuisance then anything. Sighing dramatically Draco practically mauled his letter open taking a couple of steps away. A little more elegantly, Blaise opened his letter to briefly look over what books were required. Surprisingly, another parchment fell out landing gracefully on his lap. A little more then curious, Blaise picked it up and began scanning the contents of the letter.
Mr. Zabini,
It's Hogwarts sincere pleasure to inform you that you have been chosen for the position as Head Boy. Your badge should be enclosed in your letter as should any details about Head Boy responsibilities that you should require. Once again, congratulations.
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Blaise read the letter over three times, still not quite comprehending what it said. Him? Head Boy? Impossible. But, sure enough, as he looked back in the envelope there was a shiny badge.
"What on Earth are you staring at, Zabini? I hadn't realized these letters fascinated you so," Draco sneered, but the sarcasm was lost on Blaise. The raven haired boy raised his gaze to stare blankly at Draco.
Eyes narrowing in suspicion Draco quickly swiped up his wand which had been laying carelessly on the ground and pointed it at the letter, "Accio letter!" he called.
The letter was torn out of Blaise's hands and floated over to Draco's waiting grasp. It seemed to take Draco less time to register what the letter said because he scanned it once before looking sharply at Blaise, "Bloody hell, mate, you're Head Boy!" he said half in surprise and half in envy.
Having his best friend say the words seemed to knock Blaise into reality, "This must be a mistake." he said hastily.
Draco arched an eyebrow, "And why is that?"
Blaise glowered, "Because *I* don't get picked for things like these. Why isn't Potter Head Boy? Isn't he Dumbledore's Golden Boy?" he said not at all pleased with these arrangements. It was putting him in the spotlight, where he desperately wanted to stay out of. He would have to share his Common Room with some stranger, not to mention his privacy. Neither option appealing to the dark Slytherin even if it meant possessing the coveted title.
Draco scowled, "Well, if he wanted a Slytherin to be Head Boy he could of asked me," the beginning of a pout forming on his full lips.
Blaise smiled slightly at his friend's jealousy. Draco looked like a child wanting a toy he couldn't have. Unable to resist the urge to tease, Blaise smirked at the blonde. "Your record isn't exactly clean, Draco," he said dryly. "As a collective total, you've probably hexed at least half the student body...if not more." he reminded him.
Draco gave him a smug smile, simply shrugging his shoulders, not at all ashamed of what he done. Suddenly his eyes lit up with a thought, something that usually didn't bode well for Blaise. "I just thought of something," Draco drawled slowly, a mischievous smile on his face.
"I fear those five words every time you utter them." Blaise said, though his eyes looked interested.
"Well, I was just thinking how lovely my last year of Hogwarts will be...especially with my best mate as Head Boy." he said, his eyes positively alight with the possibilities.
Blaise shook his head, "I'm not giving you any special privileges. If you get caught doing something, you'll be punished just like everyone else."
Draco let his gaze lower to Blaise's lips, "Promise?" he asked huskily, his gray eyes flashing with mischief and desire.
Blaise merely smirked before looking contemplatively at the pool, "I wonder who Head Girl will be?" he asked more to himself then Draco.
The blonde wizard rolled his eyes, "Well let's see," he began counting the clues on his fingers, "Who's bossy, a know-it-all, sucks up to all the teachers, can't bare to break a school rule, and has the highest marks in Hogwarts history?"
Blaise grimaced, "Granger."
"Granger." Draco concluded.
"Maybe it won't be her," Blaise said somewhat hopefully, knowing the brunette witch's penchant for nosiness and curiosity, two traits that he found undeniably annoying.
Draco snorted, "If it's not Granger, I'll kneel in the middle of the Great Hall and suck off Potter during dinner!" he grimaced at the very idea but was confident enough that the Gryffindor Know-It-All would be Head Girl that he could make such a brash declaration.
Blaise smirked, "I don't believe Potter swings that way." he commented dryly.
"Well then, I guess I'm lucky that *you* do. Isn't that right, Zabini?" Draco said cockily giving the other wizard a wink.
"Snarky bastard." Blaise muttered fondly. His amusement at his lover’s antics quickly faded as the reality of the situation set in. His indigo eyes suddenly turned serious, "I don't like it. Granger likes to stick her nose where it doesn't belong. What if she..."
"She won't find out." Draco assured him, all pretense of snarkiness gone, his gray eyes sincere as he moved closer to his lover.
"But what if..."
"She won't. It'll be fine. Our secret, remember Zabini?" Draco said more firmly, his fingers entwining with his for a brief moment. Their eyes locked and Draco gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go and standing up.
He raised his arms over his head, stretching like a great predatory cat, giving Zabini a good view of pale skin, even in the sun it still didn't tan. Compact muscles flexed and stretched as Draco bent down to grab a towel, wrapping it around his waist. Blaise's eyes darkened as his gaze roved possessively over the skin.
Draco quirked an eyebrow towards Blaise, "Enjoy the show?" he asked smirking and sauntering off towards the manor.
Blaise gave an amused shake of his head, leave it up to Draco to ruin a special moment, but then again, that was part of the blond’s appeal. His eyes went to the letter once more, lingering on the parchment before raising his gaze towards the sky. The sun was beginning to go down, the violet of the oncoming darkness mixing with the blue of the sky and the orange of the sun making for a breathtaking scene. He knew from memory that it would be a half-moon tonight, the stars already making themselves known in the darkening sky.
He was getting that feeling again. That strange feeling in the pit of your stomach that tells you that something is going to change, that there was surprises to come.
It was an unwelcome feeling.
Unexpected surprises and changes were especially unwanted in the Zabini family.