The Life and Times of a Girl Named Blaise Zabini By Rosy the Cat Summary: Blaise Zabini isn't your average Slytherin. She's smart, she's loyal, and she wants to kick Voldemort's arse. Oh, and she's not human. LotR (movie cannon) /Harry Potter fusion with elements from "The Sandman." Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The Lord of the Rings belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, probably his family, and New Line Cinemas, and probably a bunch of other people. The Sandman belongs to Neil Gaiman, and DC Comics/Vertigo. Chapter 1 ************************* Blaise Zabini wasn't stupid. Blaise Zabini wasn't scheming. Blaise Zabini wasn't ambitious ...Okay, so she was, but more along the lines of "I'm going to do my best and kick arse while doing it." Blaise was smart. Very smart. Smart as in she'd skipped grades before she went to Hogwarts, and had been looking forward to High School if she didn't get her letter, rather than Junior High School like most Hogwarts hopefuls. In her opinion, she belonged more with the Ravenclaws. Or even the Hufflepuffs! She worked hard, got good grades (She would be the head of her graduating class, if Granger wasn't such an over-achiever. How that girl managed to help Harry Potter and take so many extra classes at the same time, she didn't know. She worked just as hard as Granger on the individual subjects, but she knew when to kick back, unwind, and have some fun, at least!), and was loyal to her family and friends. Which came to the grand total of three people she was unquestionably loyal to: her mother, her grandfather (affectionately dubbed "Granda"), and Draco Malfoy. Her father, Lorenzo Zabini, didn't fit into the picture because she knew he was a murdering ba***** of a Death Eater. Oh, and it was her life goal to "kick Voldemort's arse" (as in defeating him, but she didn't have an aversion to doing so in the literal sense, along with various other sensitive regions of his body...) in the most painful and/or embarrassing way, and make it look like Draco did it. Because, she figured, Harry Potter had far too much fame as it was, and she didn't really want any, and Draco was always complaining about how he hated that Harry got so much (in his opinion, undeserved) attention just because he had a bloody scar. Eh, whatever made him happy... But the whole point of all this is that, quite frankly, Blaise didn't belong in Slytherin. Stupid Sorting Hat... It took one look at her last name (Her LAST NAME! Goddess, she despised everything her father stood for, and the stupid hat made its decision based on that moron's name?!?), said "Oh *BLEEP*! How did a Zabini end up here?!? I thought you all went to Durmstrang! Only one place to put you, and that's SLYTHERIN!" Stupid hat wouldn't shut up long enough to get a good look at her, much less listen to anything she had to say! She hoped that moronic hat met an icky, messy end. Stupid hat... And then there were all the morons in her house dorm! Bulstrode was rude, crude, and had a taste for fist fights. Okay, so they might have gotten along splendidly if it weren't for a fact that Bulstrode always followed the lead of such ignoble examples of humanity as Pansy Pernella Parkinson. And Parkinson! She was whiny, obnoxious, and scheming. Specifically, she was scheming to get into Draco's pants, and/or his bank account. Thank Elbereth Draco knew that, or they'd probably have to fake at seeing each other in a romantic sense to keep the girl away. It was already looking like they might have to do it anyway, just to give Draco some moments of peace. No, she didn't *like*-like Draco! Ack! He was like a surrogate brother! Their mothers were friends, and probably would love it if she and he did get together, but it wasn't going to happen. Blarg... Then there was the fact that both girls were constantly butting into her business, and trying to read her diary, and trying to find her "plans for the future" notebook. Pretty much everybody in the school except for Draco and Professor Dumbledore thought that she and Lucius Malfoy were vying for the position of Voldemort's second in command, and those idiots thought that she was writing down her plans to take over the world in that notebook. Honestly, some people needed to get their heads examined... Though she wondered on occasion what would happen if she just handed the dolts the notebook. One thing she knew for certain: she'd be keeping a camera handy for the looks on their faces when they didn't find anything written in it. Ah, the joys of being a budding Potions Mistress, and being the only person in the school who could cast ethric light. The "ink" she used for her more private writings was actually a potion that was odorless, didn't dry sticky, and happened to be invisible once dry, unless ethric light was shone on it. She'd developed it the summer after her first year, having had several close calls where her morons for dorm mates had almost gotten a hold of her notes for kicking Voldemort's arse, and she'd been staying at her grandfather's home at the time, which had a large greenhouse for her to do her work in, as well as Bunsen Burners (Isn't mundane technology grand? Unlike her father, she had had plenty of contact with the "Muggle" world, and she was rather fond of movies, her computer, her laptop, and the internet.) so she could make potions without using magic and getting in trouble. She'd been researching a lot of things, but most inks that turned invisible after drying could only be revealed by subjecting them to heat, like lemon juice or milk. Which didn't help her because, if she just wanted to review her notes, it would reveal them for all to see, and she wouldn't be able to make them invisible again! So, anyway, she had gotten to thinking about what she could do that very few people could do, and hit upon a solution: ethric light! Most witches and wizards these days didn't know what the heck it was, and the rest assumed it was simply a myth, something that worked only in "Muggle" Sword and Sorcery novels (I suppose you've noticed that the only times the word "muggle" has been used, it was in quotations. That's because it's not the proper term. The correct term for those without a magical talent is "mundane," or not out of the ordinary). Oh, it was real, and it promised to be the perfect solution to her situation. The problem was that she couldn't use magic away from school until she graduated, unless it was a life-or-death situation. Which meant no ethric light to test with. Which meant she would have to work on this at school, with the Pug and the Baboon (if you can't figure out who these are, you're too slow) constantly butting in. Darnit. But then, her grandfather came up with a solution. He had a small, hand- held magical lamp of sorts that cast a light similar to ethric light, if not ethric light itself. Was it mentioned how much she REALLY loved her grandfather? That problem averted, she had set to experimenting with various mixtures which she was assured wouldn't blow up or dissolve paper or do anything else strange, all with that little lamp shining on her results. She'd never figured out just *why* Swelling Solution had been developed. Sure, it made for a few laughs if it accidentally got on somebody, but who would want to have something swell up insanely? What purpose did it serve? Well, in any case, she'd been going through her potions textbook and brewing everything she knew how to make in several lots, in beakers as well as her cauldron, and then fiddling with them, using less of one ingredient, or using more of another, sometimes adding something completely different that wasn't in the regular recipe. And then she stumbled upon the solution, almost literally. She'd been pruning the mandrakes (no, not the screaming magical kind; the kind that are just useful roots!), and had noticed that the leaves had gained a sort of shimmery quality when brought into contact with the lamp, so figured what the heck; might as well try it. She crumbled up and tossed one dried leaf into a beaker of unaltered Swelling Solution, which had happened to be the only currently unaltered potion on the table, and stepped back when a small puff of smoke was emitted from the concoction. She then proceeded to stir the leaf particles in, hoping they wouldn't simply swell up, turned off all of the Bunsen Burners, waited for the various potions to cool, and then proceeded to test them. Only the Swelling Solution with the crumbled mandrake leaf worked. And there was much rejoicing! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Which brings us to current times. It was early July, Blaise was out of school for the summer and staying with her grandfather for the month, and looking forward to her sixth year, having turned sixteen the previous March. That's when her life started getting complicated, and she learned that not everything was as it seemed with her family. It started when her father skewered her mother on an antique, Zabini family heirloom broadsword. ************************* Author's Notes: Ooh, spooky! What's going to happen next? You'll have to read on to find out! 1-11-03 Revised for terminology, 4-29-04.