Chapter Text
If people didn’t give Dazai Osamu a wide berth before, the breaking of Pansy Parkinson’s arm certainly made sure of it.
The whole situation had put Blaise in an uncomfortable situation. Dazai is his friend, but so is Pansy. He’s known that their relationship wasn’t friendly anymore for a while– which, in all fairness, was not Dazai’s fault– but he hadn’t expected it to escalate to such an extreme.
Pansy had made her disdain for Dazai clear the moment they’d met him. She’s consistently displayed her scornful thoughts on the boy ever since, though back when they were a club there’d at least been civility. It’d never gone past Pansy’s insults and Dazai’s playful prodding, the presence of Draco assuaging her anger. At that point there had been a healthy amount of animosity between them, never having turned violent until the next year rolled around.
In Dazai’s defence, Pansy had started it. Not that it made breaking her arm in retaliation okay.
Thankfully, the whole situation had turned out to be some sort of “come to Jesus” moment for her, and she decided to settle things between them. While she certainly doesn’t like Dazai– and vice versa– they’re no longer literally at each other's throats.
It’s… nice , actually.
In fact, this whole Basilisk situation has proven quite useful in improving their relationship– unlike the previous times Dazai has gotten sick or hurt, Pansy seems to actually be concerned . Hell, she’d even done some first-aid on her supposed enemy, an olive branch if Blaise has ever seen one.
He’s glad things are beginning to return to normal. Though, admittedly, he does wish a Basilisk hadn’t needed to be involved to achieve it.
An hour after they left the Chamber of Secrets, Dazai still remains unconscious. Killing the Basilisk had really done a number on the boy, if the blood that had refused to stop gushing from his face for nearly half an hour was any evidence to go by. Add on the extra blood loss via Dazai’s impromptu bloodletting to lure the basilisk closer, and it seems safe to say that Dazai won’t be waking up anytime soon. Hopefully he won’t be out as long as he was after Quirrel had attacked them, but Blaise honestly isn’t betting on it.
So, they wait.
At Dazai’s bedside, Blaise twiddles his thumbs thoughtfully. While Pansy doesn’t seem thrilled to be stuck in the infirmary, she’s wisely remained quiet on the matter. There’s a grim sombreness to her face, something of which he believes is reflected on all of the room's occupants.
Professor Snape looks… agitated , to put it simply. It's nowhere near a secret that Dazai Osamu is the head of Slytherin’s favourite student, and the man has consistently had Dazai’s back since… Well, for pretty much as long as he’d known the boy. Dazai is a magnetic presence– there’s something about him which draws you in. Whether it be his charismatic nature, surprising cunning hidden below layers of faux-idiocy, or the many redflags always flying above his head, he doesn’t know. It’s probably a combination of all of them, plus more.
How so many people have managed to truly, honestly hate Dazai is beyond him.
Soon, the rest of the gang will realise something has gone awry– in their books, at least. Dazai seems to have planned for this– and will come searching for them. The last thing they need is for the lot of them to incriminate themselves by wandering into the second floor restroom in search of their missing teammates.
… Not that the rest of the Hogwarts staff don’t know that they’re involved. The chances of the twins' large scale pranks lining up with Dazai killing a Basilisk is, well, not very probable. At least with things the way they are now, there will be no concrete proof that they were covering for them, even if logically everyone knows the truth.
With a deep, steady breath, Blaise stands from his seat at Dazai’s side. The rest of the rooms sullen, silent occupants glance up at him, surprise colouring their faces. Resolutely, Blaise turns to face Snape and says, without any further delay, “can I talk to you privately, Professor?”
The quiet continues for a moment longer, those around him sluggishly processing his words. Draco’s face pinches up, though, and he squints at the other boy. Blaise returns his gaze firmly, lips thin and trying to get the message “I’ve got it handled, don’t intervene” across. And, evidently, it works, as aside from pursing his own lips and looking away, Draco doesn’t say a word.
“... What is it?” Snape asks warily.
Blaise watches him silently. The man glances between the two other students thoughtfully.
“Fine.” The man sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer-finger. “Ms. Parkinson, Mr. Malfoy, step out into the hallway for a moment.”
Pansy scowls, mouth opening to spout some sort of protest, but Snape cuts her off with a harsh, “ now .”
With a muted, but clearly angry, “fine”, she stands from her chair, not looking back at them as she stalks away. Draco follows her, but glances back at Blaise, Dazai and Snape. He looks unsure of himself, so to give the boy something to keep him occupied, Blaise suggests, “you should go tell the others that Dazai is going to be okay. I bet they’re confused about what’s happened tonight.”
Gathering his confidence and squaring his shoulders, Draco nods in agreement. Haughtily, in some sort of unnecessary attempt at keeping up appearances, the boy replies, “Fine, but only because I want to.”
Blaise’s lips quirk upwards just slightly. “Of course. I’m not the boss.”
Without further delay, Draco follows an impatient Pansy out of the infirmary door, shutting it with a quiet slam behind him.
Silence, once more, reigns above them, this time in a room two people shorter.
Carefully, Blaise shuffles his thoughts into order. He cannot be careless in saying what he’s about to– he doesn’t want to give away Dazai’s secrets so wantonly, even if it's to a teacher the other boy seems to somewhat trust. Maybe. In all honesty, this isn’t something he knows how to broach appropriately; it’s something that he’s understood peripherally about Dazai, but he’s always shied away from directly addressing the topic. Dazai is protective of his secrets, careful to divvy them up how he sees fit, and only when he deems it truly necessary. Blaise doesn’t know how much Snape knows about Dazai– he recalls that the man had asked him about any possible abuse Dazai may be facing at home, as well as questioned him about whether or not he believes Dazai may have attempted to take his life in the past.
While Blaise hadn’t directly said yes to the first question, he’d confirmed the man's suspicions in a roundabout way. As much of a confirmation that he could give, at least; Dazai is the least forthcoming about his homelife. All of what he suspects is just that– suspicion . He knows Dazai doesn’t like Mori, his guardian, and that he’s especially sedated after receiving and writing letters to him. It’s not much, but this isn’t something Blaise could just pry from the boys lips; he’s certainly given up a number of his secrets over the last year and a two-quarters, the existence of the Port mafia not the least of them, but most of those situations were under some sort of duress. Something that made it logical to disclose that information to him and the others. His ability just before he’d nullified the black flames while retrieving the Philosopher’s Stone, the Port Mafia while in their clubroom with Draco…
Unless Dazai deemed it useful to whichever goal he was pursuing at the moment, Blaise doubts he’ll ever manage to get a solid answer on these topics.
Snape clears his throat, and the boy spots a bit of impatient annoyance on his face. “Well? What is it you wanted to discuss, boy?”
Clasping his hands together, Blaise nods to himself, and begins.
“I’m… worried about Dazai.” It’s a lame statement, and the professor raises a brow, prompting the boy to continue. “I said that I didn’t think Dazai had tried to kill himself before, when you pulled me aside to talk…” Interrogate, more like, “but… I don’t think that’s the case anymore.”
Snape’s eyes widen a fraction, and he curses beneath his breath. “Don’t tell me this idiotic plan was some elaborate suicide attempt?!”
Blaise startles at that, blinking. “Ah, no. If that was the case and Dazai was trying to be eaten by a Basilisk, he wouldn’t have taken me, Pansy and Draco.” Pausing for a moment, he amends, “well, maybe he’d have brought Pansy…”
Slowly, Snape nods, eyes sharp and analytical, picking at him. He looks like he’s trying to dissect Blaise– to pry Dazai’s secrets out of him .
Part of him wants to say, “who’d have thought Dazai would turn out to be so much trouble?” but Blaise is well aware of the fact that he’d long known the boy to be troublesome, and that had not stopped him from attaching himself to him at the hip.
“What makes you believe otherwise, Mr. Zabini?”
With a final, apologetic glance at Dazai’s sleeping form, Blaise sighs.
“His scars. I’ve never seen them before, but he has some bad ones.” He pulls down the sleeve of his cloak to demonstrate, drawing a line from his inner-elbow to wrist. “I’ve been around Dazai enough to know all sorts of ways to commit suicide, even some… unusual methods. Those ones look deep, and they’re lateral.”
Snape’s expression draws tight, and any amount of colour that may have taken up residence on his face washes away. The man's eyes dart away from Blaise, settling on Dazai, roving up and down his bandaged arms.
Collecting himself with a deep breath, Snape turns to face Blaise once more, expression stern. “Mr. Zabini, if you know something about Mr. Dazai, you need to tell me. You mentioned that he may do something… bad for Mori. I know you’re hesitant, boy, but you must disclose what that means. Mr. Dazai can be removed from whatever situation you believe he is caught up in before anything severe has happened.”
But something severe already has happened, Blaise thinks to himself bitterly.
“I…” He pauses, lips sealing themselves. Blaise can’t tell him about the Port Mafia– as lenient as the teacher has been so far with Dazai, he somehow doubts that will continue once he discovers he’s part of a criminal organisation. What he’s doing right now is a betrayal, and while Dazai knows Blaise does as he pleases, it’ll no doubt shatter any trust he’s built between them. The idea sits heavy in his stomach, uncomfortable, making him want to squirm. Blaise doesn’t want to lose Dazai as a friend, but he fears that if he continues, that’ll be exactly what happens. “Mori expects certain… things from Dazai.”
The professor remains silent, but his expression is prompting.
“I can’t say what. I don’t want to get Dazai in trouble.” Snape opens his mouth to protest, but Blaise quickly cuts him off, “not with you , but with Mori . As well as anyone else involved. Professor, I don’t think you can remove him from that… situation.”
Snape’s mouth snaps shut, though a look of mild surprise briefly forms on his face. In mere seconds, however, it's gone, and he grows thoughtful. The man watches Blaise quietly, searching his face for something .
“You know what that situation is , don’t you?” Snapes accuses, and Blaise half-shrugs. The man's eyes narrow, and he falls back into that pensive silence for another moment.
Stalemate . Dazai continues to snooze just feet away, completely unaware of his secrets being spilled.
“You’re not the only one with information, Mr. Zabini. I am aware of Mr. Dazai’s situation.”
Blaise squints at the man doubtfully. “I don’t think you are.”
Snape’s eyebrow twitches, a telltale sign of his waning patience. Honestly, Blaise thinks the only reason he’s being so accommodating right now is because of what happened to Dazai.
Another tentative moment, and Snape sighs wearily. “You are Mr. Dazai’s closest friend. He’s told you about the Port Mafia, hasn’t he?”
Suddenly, Blaise’s brain grinds to a striking halt, lagging as he processes his words. He can feel the surprise tugging at his face, mouth parted and eyes wide as he looks at his professor– really looks at him, this time.
Dazai wouldn’t have told him about the Port Mafia– Blaise only found out just before Winter Break, and Draco learned simply due to Dazai’s having to communicate with the Malfoy family. The others certainly don’t know, and Blaise is pretty sure that he’ll live the rest of his life quite happily having never told them.
Well, as happy as Dazai can manage, at least.
No, Dazai hadn’t told Professor Snape about this, but the man had managed to find out nonetheless. How? Dazai has been careful about this– careful to the point of what some people may call overkill , so how could Snape have found out about it?
Remembering himself, Blaise snaps his mouth shut with a click , and considers his next words. Eventually, he decides to go with a simple, “How did you find out?”
And who else knows?
“That’s hardly something you need to know, Mr. Zabini.” He replies tersely, staring hard at Dazai in the infirmary cot. “All that matters is that I’m aware of the situation, and working to solve it. Mr. Dazai is still young– I can extract him from this… criminality he is surrounded by, and he’ll be better off for it.”
The thing is, Blaise doesn’t doubt that Dazai would be better off without the Port Mafia. He’d have to be a total moron to think otherwise– his friend is being dragged down a very dark path, and as time passes, the tasks by Mori will continue to worsen in severity. Last year it was retrieving the Philosopher’s Stone, this year it was to uncover Lucius’ plot– all dangerous enough as is. But how will these tasks escalate? Just last year, Dazai had been forced to kill someone in self-defence. One day, he’ll have to kill someone again, and there won’t be that justification.
Dazai is on the road to becoming something dangerous. And Blaise… he supports him, as idiotic and enabling as it seems. He trusts the boy wholeheartedly. But he doesn’t trust Mori, and Dazai is all but subservient to him. Dazai does what Mori asks of him, and while he doesn’t do it without questioning the man's motivations and judgements, he still does it nonetheless.
If Mori Ougai has a say in the matter, Blaise imagines that he’d want Dazai to become exactly what the Daily Prophet has been claiming him to be. And Blaise fears that Dazai will give in to his will.
“... You can’t get him out of there,” he reiterates, fists tightening, clenching his robes fiercely. “Dazai doesn’t want out, and he’s not a small player, Sir. You can’t just take him and… and they’ll forget about it.”
Snape grimaces. “I– Hogwarts can still figure something out. I don’t think Mr. Dazai necessarily understands the severity of–”
Blaise cuts him off firmly, “he does. He understands it perfectly, even if he pretends not to. He likes to play dumb– you know that. His Boss knows that too.”
Stiffening, the man leans forward, fingers interlocking. “His Boss . Who is that?”
Blaise thinks the answer is already clear to Snape, but that he’s fishing for some sort of confirmation. “Mori. His adoptive father– whatever he is. Dazai says he’s his Boss, but that he also takes care of him.”
The room’s other– conscious– occupant nods slowly. He looks upset, unsurprisingly, but there’s an uncertainness to his face. Like he doesn’t know quite where to aim that frustration– Dazai, for being so stubborn about opening up, Blaise for having hid this from the Hogwarts staff despite knowing Dazai wasn’t safe, at Mori for seemingly putting them all in this situation.
All three targets would be justified, in Blaise’s opinion.
“When Poppy– Madam Pomfrey –” Snape quickly corrects himself, “is well once more, I will speak to her on the subject. While you children have been coming up with these inane plots, the staff at Hogwarts having been busy themselves. Do not believe for a moment that we do not care about Mr. Dazai and his safety, Mr. Zabini. I… appreciate you telling me this. If you have anything else you want to speak on– no matter when– come find me. Do you understand me, boy?” The seriousness of his tone is startling. Dazai has mentioned that Snape likes to needle him for information, but he’d honestly thought that was due to suspicion regarding their gang. However, it seems that perhaps that wasn’t the case. Instead of looking into their mischief around school, Professor Snape had been trying to help Dazai.
Slowly, Blaise nods. The professor copies the gesture himself, expression strict but unusually soft.
“Now, you’ve been here for too long. Go, I’ll keep an eye on the Problem Child. Find your way to the kitchen to eat,” Snape’s face screws up, suddenly looking disgusted. “And for Merlin’s sake, go take a bath! You smell like sewage water.”
Blaise jolts, pausing to sniff at his sleeve. With a blank expression, he notes that yes, he does smell pretty awful.
The edges of his lips curl into some approximation of a smile.
The Professor stares him down. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get a move on.”
Maybe he’s
beginning
to understand just why Dazai likes him so much.