Asphodel and Wormwood

Cushioning Charm

It felt like someone had cast an ice-cold aguamenti charm on her. Only moments before, the power rush she had experienced caused magic to encompass her entire being with a comfortable warmth, but now that sensation had completely disappeared. The back-and-forth game they'd been playing was supposed to be low stakes. She's known Blaise was scared about something, but being fearful of his own mother's safety was far beyond what she'd expected. There were too many unknown variables for her to accurately assess the implications of his request, the biggest one being the factor that scared her the most - from whom did she need protecting?

A cool breeze traveled through the still empty courtyard, only causing the chill in her bones to settle deeper. Her mind swam with dozens of questions for the boy who had traded a look of fear for one of fierce determination. The resolute gaze he was giving her spoke to how serious his previous statement had been.

"Gods Blaise, what could your mother need protecting from? There's nothing-"

"There are things happening in Britain that you don't know about, things that certain people are trying to get me involved with because of my blood status," he cut her off. He paused, moving a hand toward her clasped ones, but clearly thought better than to touch her at the last second. It appeared that he'd learned his lesson on crossing the lines of decorum with the witch, a single positive to their exchange thus far.

Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck and the rest of his explanation rushed out like he'd been desperate to share it with someone for a long time, "It's not the nature of the Zabini bloodline to put ourselves in danger, but I'm afraid that when I try to avoid participating my mother will be harmed. They usually wait to do the initiation ritual until you turn 16, but since I'm the only male in my family line they want to do it before my birthday next summer."

Well, that explains his childish behavior, Hermione connected the dots in her mind. It was easy to forget that she was older than the other 4th years because Flamel had insisted on a year of private tutelage before she started at Beauxbaton. She would be turning 16 in just a few weeks.

"Blaise, you're not even of age. What kind of person would recruit a child army to fight their battles?" It wasn't that she doubted the truth of his words, but she couldn't help but wonder if Blaise had built up this potential threat in his mind. If there was something so dangerous happening in the wizarding world, she was certain she'd know about it.

Whatever progress he'd made earlier about not touching the witch without her permission was apparently forgotten because she felt both of his hands grab the side of her face, his fingers tangling into the curls on the side of her head as he forced her to make eye contact.

Desperation dripped off his words as he whispered, "Hermione, he isn't a person... he is a monster, and I'm telling you that as certain as I am of my status as a magical being before the end of this year I will be asked to be a soldier in a war nobody sees coming. Powerful members of the Durmstrang delegation are likely being recruited by their Headmaster the same way pureblood wizards at Hogwarts are being recruited by hold-out Death Eaters."

If she thought her blood had run cold before, it was now frozen in her veins. She tightened the hold of her joined hands to stop them from shaking. War was not a word that was spoken of lightly in the wizarding community. There had only been two uses of it in recent history and both had been shrouded in death and destruction. If there was a witch or wizard recruiting followers that were as power-hungry as Grindelwald or Voldemort they all were in grave danger, not just his mother. The possibility that she'd aligned herself with a wizard who was likely to put her and her loved ones at risk didn't sit well with the young witch, but she quickly dismissed the thought based on her interaction with Krum the night before.