Chapter 28

I had been home for a day or so already, during which time I had learned the Levicorpus Spell from one of my Mother's old notebooks in the Manor Library before it truly set in that this would be my first Christmas without my mother. Mind you, we'd never celebrated Christmas per se. The Zabini Family, being descended from the Claudii of Rome, largely celebrated a form of hybrid of Christmas and Saturnalia. There would be public feasts, a Carneval, and all sorts of revelry, though all of that would happen in the Villaggio del Mistero. Here in Britain, things were far more subdued. Mother had always leaned toward the Saturnalia side of things, which largely meant making a sacrifice to Saturn over going to church. My Aunt had apparently leaned closer to the Christmas side of things, causing yet another rift between family.

Putting that out of my mind, however, I'd arranged for the traditional liberty for Lucia, our house elf. On Saturnalia, there was a certain amount of role reversal, where servants became masters and vice-versa. There were limits of course, but making dinner for Lucia instead of her making dinner for me was not really a big deal in my eyes. I cooked a frittata since it was essentially a sort of omelette and eggs were easy enough for me to manage. If Lucia didn't think it was a good meal, she never said anything, quite to the contrary, she seemed pleased with the outcome, delighting in every bite, though that could have been performative for my sake. When she had finished she nodded at me.

"Thank you, Signore Blaise. Lucia is glad you kept the tradition going." She smiled softly.

"Of course. Hopefully, it wasn't too terrible." I offered.

"It was passable, Signore. Lucia might suggest taking a few lessons over the summer, though." Nodded Lucia.

"I'd be happy if you would show me, Lucia." I agreed.

"When Signore returns from school for summer, Lucia will teach." Concurred Lucia.

"Thank you, Lucia." I beamed.

"Of course, Signore." Smiled Lucia back.

Aside from making Lucia dinner, I went through Zabini Manor cleaning while allowing Lucia to rest. I may not have the sort of telekinetic magic of a House Elf that allows them to wield dozens of brooms at a time while simultaneously polishing dozens of statues, but I did have the scourgify, reparo, and other household charms. The process was slower-going, but still acceptable for cleanliness. By the end of the day, I was tired but had successfully completed the role-switching that took place every Saturnalia. Of course, I ended with a sacrifice to Saturn in the private temple that Mother had kept. Sacrificing a pig to the God of Time, Wealth, Agriculture, and Liberation.

The ritual sacrifice wasn't the sort that would grant the petitioner tangible power, of course. It was meant to feed the God, not service the needs of the faithful. Accordingly, unlike the various rituals I had learned in Astronomy Class, there was no effect that this ritual was supposed to grant to the petitioner. Of course, that didn't mean that such things never happened, miracles had been known to occur, after all. It simply meant that such things were rare, and the reason why such rituals weren't taught in schools. The results, when they did give power, weren't reproducible, after all. Better not to teach the rituals and avoid being accused of religious favoritism. It was the same for the Norse Yule Rituals or the Celtic Alban Arthan Rituals. No one could claim Hogwarts was playing favorites with Religions.

Regardless, the Saturnalia Sacrifice began with a live, but incapacitated pig, a bronze knife, a statue of Saturn, a sponge, and a copper bowl. Most Wizards and Witches that performed the Ceremony were adults and thus were able to stun the pig. That wasn't the case for me, as I was an Orphan, estranged from the rest of my family. I was forced to use Incarcerous to incapacitate the pig, literally hog-tying it with conjured ropes.

The next bit was the bloodiest, using Levicorpus to dangle the pig over the copper bowl, I took the bronze knife to its neck, cutting its throat and catching the blood into the bowl. Once the pig had been bled out, I set it down, Lucia would make salami, sausage, and other products from it in the morning, once she resumed her normal duties. In the meantime, I took the sponge, dipped it in the blood, and bathed the marble statue of Saturn in it until the white marble was completely covered in red blood. Then, I sank to my knees and offered prayers to Saturn for the new year. I asked him for the freedom to continue doing things that made us happy for my friends and I, for future wealth, for time to grow and become stronger, and for us to all grow old, no matter what the Fates might be hinting at in my dreams.

By the time midnight rolled around, I was bone-tired and completely exhausted. I washed up, zombielike in the shower, downed my bluegrass elixir, and flopped into my bed. I was soon out like a light, though it seemed that the Gods weren't finished with me just yet, as I was thrown into a prophetic dream, though thankfully, it wasn't a dream of my friends dying this time. Instead, it appeared to be a dream of something that would happen when we returned to Hogwarts. Judging by the snow on the ground, it would either occur in January or February. I was in the Forbidden Forest, alongside Harry at night with Hagrid in what seemed to be some form of group detention.

Hagrid had left to check out something, telling Harry and I not to wander off. Of course, that meant that we would. Harry turned to me and flat out told me he was going to check out things further down the path, that Gryffindor suicidal bravery showed through in his words and actions. Given how Harry was the key to literally everything and a Mate besides, I didn't really have much choice here. After all, if I didn't watch his back out here, nobody would. I followed him up the path before coming across something neither of us had seen before. The corpse of a dugbog lay on the path, twin puncture holes in its toad-like throat. These were no fangs from a beast, even an acromantula. No, the holes were too small for that and the Dugbog had been drained of blood.

Vampires. Or at least, a Vampire had done this. The Hemovores were notorious for congregating in such places, where the canopy of the trees obscured the daylight, or where the roof allowed them free reign. There were entire Vampire Villages in such forests or underground, with the largest population centers being in the mountains of Transylvania, where the Great Cavern Cities were close enough to various human small towns and villages that the Vampires were more of a power in the local hierarchy than the humans. The only reason they hadn't broken the Statute of Secrecy being the Vampiric Practice of the Silence of the Blood, obscuring their true nature from the general populace. Most folks thought the powerful Transylvanian Vampire Lords were merely eccentric businessmen or something similar.

Regardless, Vampires being in the Forbidden Forest was bad news. They were supposed to have been cleared out of here after the Fall of Voldemort. I already knew about Quirrel and Voldemort's possessing spirit, but if I hadn't known something was up, this would have been a major clue. Getting a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I whirled around just in time to spot a pair of pale, gaunt, adults in black leather. One of them reached out with his hand, a black sphere crackling in his palm just as I spotted them. The Blood Magic that makes a Vampire often allows them to use dark magic without a wand, which given that Wands and other Foci are illegal for Vampires to purchase without special licensing, often meant that Vampires solely used the Dark Arts.

Then the crackling sphere was thrown forth and the prophetic dream exploded in black, crackling, energy as I awoke. The morning light streamed through my window as I rolled out of bed with a groan. Vampires in the Forbidden Forest on top of everything else that was going on this year seemed a bit excessive, even for the Fates. I looked up and the ceiling as if to gaze up at the heavens in question.

"Why me? Did I do something wrong in my past life?" I questioned.

The Fates didn't deign to answer me, forcing me to grumble as I threw the covers off me and got started with my day. I showered and dressed before I headed down to breakfast. Lucia was busily turning pork into salami, salting it, and turning the meat into links with magic before hanging them up to dry age. As I sat down, Lucia telekinetically sent over a plate of Eggs on Toast and a cup of tea. I took a bite of my breakfast, sipped at my tea, and sighed at the pit in my stomach that had formed over future Vampire Encounters being filled with good food. The eggs, toast, and tea smothered and doused the worry.

"Don't forget, Signore has fittings for his Dress Robes with Madame Malkin this afternoon." Intoned Lucia.

"Yes, Lucia, I remember. Thank you." I nodded.

"Signore wishes to impress the Greengrass Family, yes?" Queried Lucia.

"I don't know about impressing them. Daphne's a Mate, though so I probably should think about that. I want them to like me, after all." I admitted.

"Then perhaps Signore would like Lucia to remind him of his appointment this afternoon?" Asked Lucia.

"That would be great, Lucia. Thank you." I agreed.

"Of course, Signore." Affirmed Lucia.

After breakfast, however, I spent time training, which never stopped even after school had gone out for the Christmas Holidays. The Manor's Library had tons of lore and grimoires, though none of it held a candle to the books that my Grandfather had left me. I did, however, learn a few things about Metamorphing Mandragoras, the plant that had been mentioned at the start of term feast as having taken over some of the abandoned greenhouses that I hadn't heard of again. It turned out, there was good reason for that. They always grew back unless you knew a specific charm to lay on the ground to get rid of their seed buds. Of course, on further reading, it seemed like getting rid of them would be a waste.

Metamorphing Mandragoras were incredibly valuable for Alchemy and Potioncraft. Not only could they be substituted for any potions ingredient, even non-plant-based ones, but they also could be used to make a number of highly-potent potions and alchemical solutions. This included such things as the Potion of All-Potential, which could drastically improve one's capabilities in subjects they were average or bad at and enhance your capabilities with subjects you were good at even further. It was also a key ingredient in Enhanced Felix Felicis, and Alchemical Solutions such as the Panserfrakk Salve the Vikings used to use to enhance the defensive properties of leather and cloth armor to the point of near-invulnerability to slashing, piercing, fire, and cold damage.

Of course, there were also dangers associated with harvesting a Metamorphing Mandragora. As they could take on some of the properties of any magical plant. Mandrake Screams, Devils Snare Tendrils, Chomping Cabbage Fangs, the works. In order to avoid being poisoned by the spikes of a Mexican Venom Cactus, burned by the flames of an Australian Fire Flower, or any number of things that a Metamorphing Mandragora could do, three things were essential.

Thing one was to avoid walking near them. Metamorphing Mandragoras sensed danger through tremors in the ground they were planted in. While brooms or other methods of magical flight were best, in a greenhouse, they wouldn't work so well, though fortunately, I found a workaround in a tome via the Stablefoot Charm. An incantation of firmum pedem and a flick of your wand at your feet would allow you to cause no tremors in the earth as you walked.

The second essential thing was to remember that using fire magic was inadvisable. The Metamorphing Mandragora was a plant that could adapt to extreme heat, as it had been known to crop up in volcanic calderas among other places. Instead, once you have claimed your cutting, the best way to kill it was to use cold magic. Spells that froze people or things were a weakness of the Metamorphing Mandragora, as compared to other types of damage, its ability to adapt to extreme cold was limited. No Metamorphing Mandragoras had ever been found near the Arctic Circle, for instance, or in the vast Siberian Wilderness.

The final thing that was necessary was the Uprooting Charm. Without this charm, the seed buds would remain deep underground and ready to sprout anew six months after you had frozen out the previous group of Metamorphing Mandragoras. The incantation was Evellere and the wand movement was to point your wand at the ground where you suspected the seed buds were and flick it in an upward motion. The seed buds, normally resistant to magic enough to avoid being dug up, would be grabbed onto by this spell and forced up to the surface of the ground where they could be frozen with cold magic or collected for later planting, though the time warned against that second one if you didn't have time to manage such a plant.

It was all fascinating, and I barely had time to read up on it and practice the Stablefoot and Uprooting Charms before Lucia popped in to warn me that I only had a half an hour until my appointment at Madame Malkin's. Given how I was sweating a bit after practicing those charms enough to learn them properly, I decided to hop in the shower before flooing to Diagon Alley. Once I was showered and dressed, I headed over to the Floo, grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder, and tossed it into the flames, watching them turn a vibrant green as the Floo Powder did its work.

"Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley." I intoned.

The flames flared up and I walked through, passing through the portal created out of the green flames and stepping into the back room of the Leaky Cauldron. Unfortunately, Floo Travel to the Leaky Cauldron almost always required a quick once-over with a Scourgify once you were done. The Pub had been an Early Adopter of Floo Travel during the sixteenth century. That, unfortunately, meant that the Leaky Cauldron's Floo was an Old-style Floo which didn't come with the cleaning enchantments a more modern Floo came standard with. It was no matter, I knew the Scourgify Charm anyway.

As I cleaned myself up with magic, Tom made his way back to the back rooms to see who had just Flooed in. He seemed somewhat surprised to see me, though. I cocked an eyebrow in question at him as he looked at me like he'd seen a ghost.

"Something on my face?" I questioned.

"No, just didn't expect to see you here. Your Mum was never a fan of mine. Never stood for none of her shite in my establishment." Answered Tom.

"Mum's not with us anymore." I frowned.

"Aye. I heard that. I won't say she and I were mates, but I didn't wish her dead, unlike some folks. We got on all right for a bit in the seventies, but you know how things are. People drift apart when they show their true colors. Still doesn't mean they should die. You've got my condolences." Nodded Tom.

"Thanks. I should go, I have an appointment to keep." I offered.

"Aye, go on." Agreed Tom.

As I tapped the bricks with my wand and the archway to Diagon Alley formed, I reflected that I never knew my Mum and Tom knew each other. She never spoke about knowing him, though I doubted they were anything more than friends even back in the seventies. The Age Gap was too much for a romantic connection, even for my Mum's proclivities. Tom had to be pushing seventy at least, while my Mum had been thirty-eight when she'd died, the same age as Lucius Malfoy, though she would have had her thirty-ninth Birthday in October were she alive. That's a thirty-year age gap at least. Shaking my head of those particular thoughts, I stepped through the brick archway into Diagon Alley.

The whole of Diagon Alley seemed to have been decorated for Christmas, with Holly wreaths and garlands of evergreen boughs on doors and lining windowsills. Festively decorated Christmas trees seemed to be prominently displayed in various shop windows as the whole of Diagon Alley seemed taken with the spirit of the season. As I made my way toward Madame Malkin's, I even spotted a group of carolers on the corner of Knockturn Alley, one of which was clearly a hag. I suppose the festive spirit even got to the Dark Wizards and Creatures sometimes, though judging by the flasks on offer, it was more of an excuse to drink and carouse than anything else. Honestly, more power to them. Better they go drunken caroling than cursing some poor bastard for kicks.

As I entered Madame Malkin's the shop attendant, a plump, twenty-something girl of possibly Portuguese Descent bustled out of the back room with a harried look on her face. It seemed the fate of Holiday Hires in retail never changed no matter whether they were Wizarding Shops or Muggle Ones. She looked over at me with a doubtful look before speaking.

"Sorry, but we're all booked up for fittings today. I don't think we can fit you in." She remarked.

"I know." I nodded.

"Then you have an appointment?" Queried the Girl.

"I do. It should be under Zabini." I answered.

"All right, give me a moment, I need to check the book." Insisted the Girl.

Then she pulled out a large, leatherbound, ledger from under the counter, flipping through the pages of bound parchment before scanning the appointment section for today with her finger. With a nod, she tapped her finger on the page and made a noise of concentration that sounded sort of like a mouse squeaking. Contrasting with her prominent front teeth, she painted a mouse-like picture as a default, which I thought was just adorable. Alas, stuck in this kid's body like I was, I'd have to stick to quietly acknowledging that fact. I doubt she would take kindly to being asked out by a Firstie, after all. Honestly, even my old body would be turned down flat. Sixteen was still underage back home.

"Here you are! And you're just in time for your fitting too!" Grinned the Girl.

"I should hope so. I do have one question before we start." I intoned.

"I can't answer anything personal." Warned the Girl.

"No, I get that. I just wanted to know your name. I can hardly go around calling you hey you this whole time, now can I?" I asked.

"Oh, it's Alexandra, Alex for short." Answered the Girl, Alex.

And with that, I was pulled into a fitting room and measured for my dress robes. The color scheme would be largely white and gold, in keeping with the Zabini Family Coat-Of-Arms, but with a green vest underneath to show support for my house and a green, white, and gold tie to mix my house and family arms together. All would be made of acromantula silk and exquisitely tailored to fit me. The mystical measuring tape that Alex was using ensured that the last bit would be true. It would effectively take my measurements down to the millimeter and ensure the cut flattered me. I was paying top galleon for this fitting, after all. Hell, the end product would even come with a suite of enchantments for comfort, resizing, and even utility, such as expanded pockets and magical toughening to act as armor in a pinch if needed.

It all cost quite a bit, but I made sure to tip Alex extra galleons as well. I was certain she'd appreciate it, given how stressful being a seasonal holiday hire could be, even in the Wizarding World. By the time I was finished, the sun was starting to set and I made my last stop of the day, Gringotts Bank, where I met with the Account Manager for the Zabini Vaults in Britain, which had been needed to me by my mother as they were her personal accounts. The Goblin, an Older Goblin named Rotwile, was a touch surprised to hear my request, but I knew he wouldn't pass up the opportunity when I laid it out to him.

"You want to invest in this Muggle Company? Microsoft? Might I ask why?" Demanded Rotwile.

"As you may know, my family is known for producing seers. I am one such seer." I responded.

"And you were granted a vision of this Microsoft doing well in the Muggle Economy?" Pressed Rotwile.

"I was. Let me put it to you another way. Investing just seven-hundred-eighty muggle pounds in Microsoft today will yield over a forty-two-thousand percent return within the next fifteen years." I pointed out.

"I see. You are aware that there are a number of fees involved with utilizing your Vaults to invest in muggle companies, yes? Most Wizards prefer not to do such things because of that. Up to a combined third of any profits could be claimed by Gringotts." Informed Rotwile.

"I understand the fees, but if we're being frank, it's so much money that I'm entirely comfortable with paying them." I informed.

"How much are you looking to invest in this Company?" Questioned Rotwile.

"How much can I currently afford to invest?" I queried.

"You may currently convert up to five million galleons to muggle stocks without being unable to make further trades this year." Informed Rotwile.

"In that case, I think putting one-point-six million galleons into Microsoft is a good bet. If my visions hold, that should be over three billion Muggle Pounds, am I right?" I asked.

"Assuming your premonition is correct, it works out to roughly three-billion-three-hundred-sixty-million Muggle Pounds. Minus the Bank's fees and transferring back into galleons that should be four-hundred-forty-eight-million Galleons. Assuming your vision is correct, of course." Huffed Rotwile.

"Do so, please." I intoned.

"Very well. Gringotts will have its due either way, I suppose. I hope for your sake this is not simply more foolishness from Wizards, however." Scowled Rotwile.

He drafted up the necessary papers and I signed them, which then sealed the contract and moved the money. Not that I was expecting to fail, mind you. This was Microsoft, after all, and investing now before it blew up even bigger than it already had was just good sense. It was also easier than investing in Apple, which wouldn't blow up until the mid-two-thousands and which I'd never cared for anyway, to begin with. If I was right about this, and I probably was, then by this time fifteen years from now, I would be richer than the Malfoys by over half again their total wealth, though I would still lag behind the Blacks somewhat, assuming Malfoy didn't get the Black Inheritance. That was my Saturnalia present to me, obscene wealth.

As I headed back through the Leaky Cauldron's Floo to my home, I could only grin at how that had turned out. If all went to plan, I'd have just barely lapped the Malfoy Fortune just around Seventh Year or so. It had me humming a jaunty Christmas tune all the way back home. Unfortunately, I had to get some sleep. Tomorrow would be more training, and the day after that would be the Greengrass Yule Ball. There really was no rest for the weary, I supposed as I ate my dinner. I finished the day off with some Occlumency and Leglimancy Practice, showered, got dressed in pajamas, drank my Bluemoon Elixir, and headed to sleep. My night was blessedly free of more prophetic dreams, fortunately.

When I awoke, I would start training all over again, devoting the whole day to it. . .

XXXX

AN: Here we see how Blaise is doing over the Christmas Holidays. Mostly, he's training while also preparing for the Greengrass Yule Ball. At the same time, he's using future knowledge and passing it off as a vision in order to invest in Microsoft in the Early Nineties and therefore make a boatload of cash. It's enough that by the time of the Battle of Hogwarts, he'll be richer than the Malfoys, but that's just what happens with economies of scale versus generational wealth in a closed system. Sucks to suck for Draco, I guess. The numbers here are reasonably accurate for real life if you invested in Microsoft in the early nineties.

We also get a glimpse at a future event for when School resumes via another one of Blaise's prophetic dreams. Suffice it to say, that detention with Hagrid is going to be fairly lively. Or the opposite, as the case may be, given how Vampires are undead instead of truly alive. As for the depiction of Saturnalia here, it is reasonably historically accurate, at least as far as I could look up. There really was a tradition of sacrificing pigs' blood to Saturn and eating the pork afterward, just how there really was a tradition where masters and servants swapped stations during the festivities.

At any rate, the next chapter will involve the beginning of the Greengrass Yule Ball.

Stay tuned. . .