The Gloriana Set

Castello di Zabini

Ginny was impressed by Hermione's improved flying, although they stayed just a foot above the trees and flew at a creeping pace. But Hermione's hands were steady, and her broomstick didn't wobble or tilt upwards.

They landed on the bare hill in the western end of the Forbidden Forest, and Ginny brought out two butterbeers she'd stowed in her cloak pockets. Hermione set out her one remaining jar of fire (the rest were back on the hill outside the Burrow). The friends settled against two rune-inscribed rocks that Hermione vowed to study later and just sat quietly until Ginny was ready to begin her story.

"It was a surprise, of course, this trip to Blaise's family castle," Ginny began, wrapping her cloak around herself. "Called Castello di Zabini. Dates back to the fifth century—you'd love it. Those early Zabinis were pirates, and the castle was fortified in the fifteenth century. Blaise had regaled me about it the night of the Gryffindor party, and then again the following weekend when I met him at the Leaky Cauldron.

She grinned suddenly. "It was funny, actually, that night in September. There I was, sitting with a virtual stranger in a grimy rented room, waiting for a shag and instead getting long tales of princely riches. How better to impress a poor little Weasley girl, right? Bet those Slytherin slags love that shit. I practically jumped him just to shut him up.

"So, anyway, last Friday night I was having drinks with Blaise in Hogsmeade and he said he had a 'small surprise.' The man's last small surprise was chartering the Hogwarts Express to take us to dinner in London last month, so I was ready for anything. He produced a dented can of beans, which turned out to be a portkey to Italy, and we ended up standing on medieval battlements in the middle of an island overlooking the sea. Violin music and candles floated around us, and we were suddenly waltzing under this giant moon.

"'Blaise, what are you up to?' I asked, and he gave me some long speech about a romantic scene with a beautiful woman and hair shining like a sunset over the Mediterranean until I'm fidgeting with boredom. I mean, it couldn't be just about sex, since he'd been getting plenty of sex from me without whisking me off to the Continent, so I was hoping the weekend was about more than shagging and pretty words.

"In that, I was disappointed, because all he had to offer was amazing sex in exquisite surroundings, inside an opulent castle. The meals became more and more extravagant, the entertainment progressed from violins to dancers to private concerts to fireworks above the water, and I just got crabbier and crabbier until I was snapping like a Hermione Granger on a bad hair day.

"Finally, on Sunday morning, as we were drinking mimosas on some Godric-damned yacht on the Riviera, I'd finally had it.

"'What the hell's going on, Blaise?' I asked. 'Why are we here?'

"'You said you wanted to know more about my background. I'm showing you my life,' he said.

"'No, you're showing off your life. This tells me nothing about you I didn't know before.'

"'This castle—'

"I slammed down the champagne flute. 'I don't give a flying fuck about your castle, Blaise.' I stood, and he did as well, per his poncy etiquette, and I pulled out my wand. 'Give me one reason to stay here, Blaise.'

"'Are you going to hex me, like Hermione hexes Draco?' he asked, amused.

"'No, although a nice bat-bogey hex would do you a world of good,' I told him. 'Maybe it would wipe off that smarmy look of yours, Blaise, like I'm some feisty kitten here for your entertainment.'

"'It works for Draco,' he answered, smiling as he sipped his drink.

"'That's because he can't keep it going,' I told him. 'Malfoy starts out under complete control, but after five minutes with Hermione, he starts fraying at the edges, and suddenly he's blushing or yelling or threatening vampires, or all three at once. Merlin knows I don't want that—I like a little stability in a man, I don't have Hermione's energy—but damn it, I can't love some pretty shell!'