"How very Dumbledore-ish." Zabini's smile took away the sting of the job. "So you've appointed yourself his protector?"
Neville's chin went up. "We stand together." There was a warning note in his voice for Zabini not to question him on his loyalty to Harry.
Zabini nodded slowly. "Theo's politics are closer to Potter's agenda than his father's. The only area of major disagreement is equality for muggleborns – Theo would rather keep the political power with pureblood or at least old magical families. My guess is that when Theo becomes Lord Nott, he will seek an alliance of mutual aid and support not a détente, and he will seek it directly with Potter not with the House of Black."
"I see." Neville murmured.
And he did see. He saw why Nott had evidently cultivated relationships with Jeremy Branstone and Michael Corner, and why he looked relaxed talking to Harry. He didn't have to watch what he said because he agreed with Harry's views. That agreement would help him forge a bond with Harry – a closer one than Malfoy who remained entrenched in his father's political view despite the fact that they had to comply with the House of Black's primacy.
"What about you?" asked Neville.
"Our political agenda is close enough to Potter's for the differences not to matter." Zabini said with a shrug. "Mother was simply holding out on the alliance because she hoped to convince Lord Black of the advantages of a marriage including giving Potter a maternal figure." He snorted a little in derision.
"Your Mother has Veela blood." Neville commented hesitantly.
"Yeah, she constantly seeks her," Blaise lifted his hands and mimed quotation marks, "'true mate.' Obviously it's a load of bollocks because that kind of thing is the invention of romance writers, but that's why she's been married so much."
"Your father…"
"An arrangement." Blaise changed position. "But she's not a murderer no matter what they say though." He claimed defensively. "Father died of a rare genetic heart condition. Donald, her next husband, didn't actually die, they divorced when they realised his resisting her allure wasn't because he was powerful but because he was gay; he's living in the States with a guy called Bob now. Don's pretty great really – still sends me birthday and Yule gifts. Gunther was just dull and drank a lot. I'm pretty sure he died of boredom even if the official report said liver failure."
Neville remained silent not sure what to say.
Blaise shook his head. "Anyway, mostly Mother's romances don't bother me. I lived with my Great-Aunt Josephine, my grandfather's sister, until Hogwarts as she had the regency. She died the Summer after our first year which is when my Mother took over. I inherited Great-Aunt Jo's house so I stay there mostly."
"I'm sorry about your Great-Aunt." Neville said softly, knowing the condolences were a poor substitute for a woman who Blaise spoke about with fondness and who obviously had been the parental figure in Blaise's life.
"Thanks." Blaise sighed heavily.
Neville decided to change the subject a little. "So are you a Veela?"
"No, only daughters of the blood can be called Veela." Blaise said with a laugh.
"Sorry, I don't know much about them." Neville explained with chagrin.
Blaise nodded. "They're like all magical creatures, secretive about their own ways. What I do know is that pure Veelas can reproduce asexually but most mate with wizards now. Sons are rare and generally have a resistance to the allure but no other Veela characteristics; daughters are considered Veela regardless of how many traits they actually retain." He took a sip of his butterbeer. "Mother wanted a daughter."
Neville swallowed the urge to say 'sorry' but what could he say? He knew something about being a disappointment for something outside of his control after all – before the Summer his Gran had practically mentioned in every sentence that Neville failed to match up to his father.
He opened his mouth to say something – anything but before he could a loud boom echoed outside the tent and the ground shook hard beneath their feet sending some of the glassware and bottles crashing to the ground.
Zabini dispelled the privacy bubble and they immediately made their way to Harry. Sirius had already reached him and gave a nod to Neville and Zabini.
"You don't think that's…" Harry began.
Sirius shook his head. "I'm not sure…"
A wolf patronus appeared – a message from Remus. "Sirius! There's been an explosion at the stadium and the stadium is on fire! The Aurors are trying to contain it but need help! Send as many able bodied men and women as you can!"
Sirius turned toward Harry and Harry immediately motioned for him to leave. "Go and help! We'll be fine!"
"Portkey out if there's any sign of trouble otherwise stay here!" Sirius ordered. "Bill…"
"I'll remain with him." Bill confirmed.
"Listen up! The stadium is on fire! Anyone who wishes to help, come with me!" Sirius shouted, already moving towards the tent opening.
Most of the adults hurried after Sirius with only Wallace Granger and a few of the women were left behind with Bill. There was a rising sense of hysteria in the tent as everyone started talking over each other.
His Gran set off her wand to make a small bang. "Dear Merlin! Get a hold of yourselves!"
"But what do we do?" Celia Inglebee clutched Lydia – who was crying for some inexplicable reason – and looked at Harry.
Everyone looked at Harry.
Harry shot a nervous look at Neville's Gran who nodded at him encouragingly.
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