Blaire Zabini || Draco Malfoy

56 - Dance Storm

I stayed on for the funeral.

Actually, I stayed on for Neville and for the fact that I had nowhere else to go.

Well, I had my 'home', but I didn't relish going back to a huge empty mansion by myself, even if I was of age and could finally use my wand out of school.

Besides, Neville needed me.

And even though I would never admit it out loud, I needed him too.

Pansy was horrified when she discovered I wasn't boarding the train with the rest of the Slytherins.

"You're not seriously going to stay on and pay your respects to the guy our head of house just brutally slaughtered?!" She spluttered. "And not to mention the hand your little fuck buddy had in it too!"

"Don't, Pansy," I hissed, as everyone in the common room looked over at us uneasily.

The whole of the Slytherin house seemed a little unsure of how they should be reacting to what happened. On one hand, Snape and Draco were fellow Slytherins, and therefore it felt as though a degree of loyalty should be shown towards them.

But on the other hand, it was cold blooded murder.

"What?" Pansy scoffed. "Everyone knew you were screwing, it was hardly some international secret. The big question is, however, were you dumb enough not to notice his tattoo, or were you helping cover up a school murder plot in the name of getting some cock?"

I pretty much got the same attitude from the rest of school, who all regarded me with suspicion every time I entered a room.

Except for Neville, of course. And Ron and Hermione who both seemed pretty blasé about the whole situation.

Might be because Harry was acting like such a douchebag about it all.

"WHO INVITED THE SLYTHERIN?!"

I rolled my eyes as I helped Neville into his seat. Madam Pomfrey had given him a day pass from the hospital wing on the condition that I was to stay by his side the entire time.

"Give it a rest, mate," I heard Ron mutter into his friend's bright red ear, "it's a funeral."

"EXACTLY!" Harry bellowed, jabbing his finger in my direction. "AND ONE THAT WOULDN'T BE HAPPENING IF IT WASN'T FOR HER BOYFRIEND!"

"Last time I checked," I drawled coolly, "Snape wasn't my boyfriend. Although, throw a bottle of shampoo at his hair and I probably wouldn't kick him out of bed."

"Girl- same!" Neville chuckled quietly in my ear.

Ron and Hermione quickly pulled an apoplectic looking Harry back down into his chair before he could make even more of a scene.

*****

"Ah! So you're the girl our Nev's been talking so much about in his letters!"

I looked up at the tall, thin bony old lady with the stuffed vulture upon her head.

"Jeez, Gran," Neville muttered, rolling his eyes as he hobbled down behind me off the train, "way to make me sound like some kind of fangirl."

"I'm Blaire," I grinned, holding out a hand in greeting, "and yes, that sounds about right."

"Augusta Longbottom," she replied in an impressively booming voice, shaking my hand with gusto, "proud grandmother to the bravest Gryffindor Hogwarts has yet produced."

"Yeah - um... I think people might argue that would be Harry Potter, Gran," Neville mumbled, turning a deep shade of crimson.

"POPPYCOCK!" Augusta bellowed, making me, and everyone around us, jump. "Know your worth, Neville, my boy. You are your father's son, after all."