Chapter 32

By morning it seemed the traumatic events that happened the previous night were anything less than ordinary. Grace’s medicine had helped significantly, but the golden boy had to be considerate of his actions, knowing his wound had yet to fully close. So it was still quite early when McGonagall called for Madam Pompfrey to bring Harry to her office.

Grace was now alone in the hospital wing and sitting besides Ron’s bed. Madam Pompfrey was helping escort Harry, as was Ginny. “We’ve saved each others lives more times than I can remember.” She comfortingly ran her fingers along his hand. She counted each freckle from his palm to his wrist, and made sure to keep a grip on his massive hand. Ron stirred ever so slightly. “I’m still here to get you through this...” Before, Grace snuck a peek at his file to see the ink regain its opaque finish, indicating he was no longer dying from venom. She had once again saved Ronald Weasley, and she didn’t mind it one bit.

“You’re still here.”

Grace shifted her position in the seat, still keeping a firm grip on Ron’s hand. “You didn’t get hurt much, you could probably leave by now,” Ginny said as she leaned against Harry’s cot. She had just got back from dropping off Harry and she hoped she could gain some alone time with her sickly brother.

“I couldn’t leave him alone.” The Italian whispered, her head now turned towards Ron. His breaths were getting stronger and now you could tell he was dreaming.

“You love him,” Ginny stated in realization. She sat up straighter but still kept her nonchalant appeal.

Grace gently unfolded her hand out of Ron’s grasp, “Yes. In a way…”

The redhead then sat down in front of Grace, right at the foot of Ron’s cot. “You’re not in love with him.”

“No, but I do love him…in ways I hope you can imagine.” The Slytherin smiled.


The doors then crashed open, disturbing the other patients in the room. “GRACIELLA?!”

Ginny immediately shoved her palm over he face, “Over here Zabini.”

Suddenly Blaise was at the foot of the bed, dressed in his traveling cloak. His hair was muddled and his eyes gleamed in worry. “Merlin Gracie, why do I always find you in here?”

“It’s been a long night Blaise…I really don’t want to explain now.”

“McGonagall already told me.” Blaise said. He walked over to his sister and examined her cherubic features. She had several bruises along her brow bone, jawline, and lower eyelid. “I just…this has got to stop. The war is over…you don’t have that responsibility now.” He said the last part in a low tone, hoping no one could hear.

Grace matched his quietness to a tee, “He was dying, Blaise. His ink was fading.” She was referring to the Weasley file.

Her twin then sat back and looked up at her in awe. A smile began to grown upon his angular facial structure.


“I think you are the first Zabini in five generations to do good with what has been cursed upon us.”

Grace couldn’t help but grin weakly at her revelation. She looked up towards Ginny, who was politely trying to stay out of the conversation, “We should go. I’ll let you have some time with Ron.” The Slytherin got up and walked towards the head of Ron’s bed. Kissing him softly on the forehead, Grace turned to leave. As she walked out she stuffed a small piece of paper into Ginny’s hand.


The redhead gently unfolded the parchment within her palm and evaluated the script. A small note in the corner was still wet with ink. I removed the original spell. It was Hermione’s owl-ed letter to Ron that he had gotten yesterday morning, but instead it was written in Lavender’s handwriting.


It was far too early for any student to be wandering the halls on a Saturday, let alone eating breakfast in the Great Hall. Draco was silent, and when he got back, he couldn’t sleep. His mind was twisting in remarkable ways and creating new possibilities. For the first time he thought he had a future and a destiny. He had hope. Draco brushed a couple stray blonde hairs away from his face and fumbled with the piece of toast within his long fingers.

“You look dreadful.”

His grey eyes gleamed upwards towards the student in front of him.

“Piss off.” He muttered with a fierce glare.

“I can tell you couldn’t sleep either.” She said in a voice light as air.

Draco was annoyed. He threw his toast back on his plate and gripped the side of the wooden table. “Can’t one just eat in peace?! PISS OFF.”

Then he took another look at her. She was tall, and surprisingly attractive. Her hair was jet black and streamed down her shoulders in soft waves. Bright blue eyes seemed to sparkle from behind her dark locks and practically dazzled from the contrast of her tan skin tone. Everything about her was dramatically appealing to the eye. And the only thing confirming her house was the oversized grey sweater she wore, with yellow embroidery. A Hufflepuff.

“Don’t get so moody Malfoy, none of your friends are here for you to impress them.” She quickly sat down in the bench across from him, laying a thick book and her wand aside from the plate. She began placing things into some porridge, so casually that she didn’t seem to notice she was sitting with the school’s most regal heir.

Draco was speechless from her confident behavior, so he continued to watch her fill a goblet with pumpkin juice.

“I’m Danea by the way.” She spoke with that swooning light tone. Her mind was focused on the butter tray out of reach.

“Are you-” Draco lifted the tray and handed it to her.

“A Pureblood? Yes.” The girl smiled as she took the dish from him, “Thank you.”

The blonde sat back, “That’s not what I was implying and you’re welcome.”

Danea gave a small smile, “But I know that’s all you care about.”

Judging by her snappy attitude, Draco immediately found a liking towards her, even if she was a Hufflepuff. A signature smirk began to grow on his sharp features.


In the Slytherin common rooms…

Pansy opened one eye very carefully to observe the person who just entered their dorms. From what she saw, the girl’s silhouette was small and delicate. Immediately, she knew exactly who it was. “Grace?”

The silhouette stopped. “Sorry, Pansy. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

The Slytherin peeped out of her bed curtains, “It’s fine. Theo asked me to keep an eye out until you came back.” She folded her covers over herself again, “Night.”

“Goodnight.” Grace whispered as she tiptoed towards her side of the room.

Pansy heard the bathroom door click shut before she let sleep take it’s course. The whole room was completely dark, except for the small glimmer of light peeking out form underneath the door. The only sounds came from the crackling fire and Millicent Bulstrode’s wretched snoring. However, Pansy used a sounding charm to lower it just enough to be pleasant. The raven-haired girl tucked herself deeper into the sheets as she heard a small crash.

Getting up, Pansy pulled on her night robe and carefully began to walk towards the only sign of conscious life in the room. “Gracie-wasie is everything okay in there?” After a second too long, a cold sweat began to break on the back of her neck. “Grace? May I come in?” With a wave of her wand, Pansy walked in to a very heart-breaking scene.

On the floor, Grace sat in a circle of shard mirror. Some had apparently blown too near her face and eventually cut her. Along with that, the girl was shaking uncontrollably with small pools of tears circling in her irises. Immediately, Pansy sat down. “Grace what’s wrong? How did this happen?”

Suddenly, Grace snapped back into reality. “I-I’m sorry. I was just looking into the mirror and I guess my emotions magically shattered it.”

Pansy couldn’t help but coo. To her, Grace sounded like a five-year-old child apologizing. “It can be repaired. Are you alright?”

“Yes.” Grace still couldn’t make eye contact with her.

With that, the other Slytherin nodded, “When you wake up in the morning, I’ll help you put a glamour charm on those.” She was referring to the several bruises on Grace’s face.

“Sure. Thanks Pansy.”


As soon as Pansy resettled herself in bed, Grace finished cleaning the cuts on her cheeks. She wasn’t yet tired, although it had been a long night, and she was hoping she could get her mind off things somewhere else. With caution, Grace tiptoed her way towards the dorm door and quietly exited. She made sure to place a silencing spell on the steps, so she wouldn’t make too much noise. To her surprise, someone else was also in the common room at this ungodly hour.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Blaise asked from an armchair near the fire.

“Yes,” Grace sat down directly in front of the hearth. “You should get some rest though, it was a long night for you.”

Her brother snickered, “Not so much me, but you. You’re the one who battled two incredibly lethal and rare creatures on school grounds.”

“I think I’ll be fine.”

Blaise got up and handed his sister a mug, “It’s tea. It might help.”

With a weak smile, Grace took the cup in gratitude, carefully lifting it to her lips to drink the hot liquid. After all the stress, she really did need this.

“Gracie? You look…unlike yourself. What’s on your mind?”

Startled by the abruptness of the question, Grace choked and burned her tongue. “Huh?”

“Come on, spit it out.”

His sister turned her head back towards the fire. She watched as the flames danced across the pit and enlightened the cold stonewalls, “I-” She sighed. “I-I’m just so tired of being me.”

Before Blaise could interrupt, Grace continued, “Ever since I became your sister, I had a goal to re-invent myself. I wanted to make a name for this new me, and still keep Hermione close by.” Her brown eyes began to refill with tears, “And every time I get close to you and your friends I feel like a Slytherin… like your sister.” She placed her mug down by her side, “But when I’m with them…with Harry and Ron and Ginny…I’m Hermione. I forget that I’m part of this family and I say things I’m not suppose to say. I am a Gryffindor, and I belong with them. I don’t belong here.”

Silence stretched between the two, and soon Grace turned towards her brother and smiled. “I’m sorry. I guess all these emotions have been locked up inside for months…I didn’t mean to rant.”

And at that moment, Blaise chose to respond. “No. Don’t apologize.” He got up and sat beside his twin, wrapping his arms around her to hug her tightly. “I love you. I love you so much Hermione.” He backed up so his sister could view his dark eyes, “You never became my sister… you’ve always been my sister. You’ve always been a Zabini, deep down. You know what that means, don’t you?”

Grace shook her head.

“It means you’ve always been the same person. I want you to be who you are, no one else. So if you are more comfortable with talking to Gryffindors, I encourage it. It’s not about having my lifestyle; it’s about being comfortable with your own. You’ll always be my sister, Hermione, and that’s why I’ll always love you.”

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