Hermione looked shocked. "They can't do...."
                              
"They do do it though."
                              
"Well... we have to put a stop to it!"
                              
"Relax, Granger. I already took care of it."
                              
"What? How?"
                              
"I'm a Slytherin, Hermione. I know how to deal with my house."
                              
"Blaise... if you bollocks this up... you're in trouble!" Hermione warned.
                              
"He already is in trouble," Professor McGonagall announced, from the doorway.
                              
Blaise swallowed hard. "P-Professor?" But she just walked over to him and grabbed him by the ear. "What? Ow!"
                              
"Come with me!" she growled and dragged him out of his classroom. Hermione just watched them go, a smile on her face.
                              
Luckily, the hallways were deserted as dinner was about to start, as she hauled him downstairs. "Please! Professor, let go!" he pleaded.
                              
"No! You're supposed to be a professor! Why do I have to drag you to your appointments like a first-year?" she growled and finally let go when they reached classroom thirteen. "You already missed two appointments, did you think nothing would happen?"
                              
Blaise rubbed his ear and pouted like a sullen child. "I don't need...."
                              
"I disagree. Now, you either make your appointments, on time, every time, or I will personally escort you to every one of them!" she declared and opened the waiting room door. "Is there anything that you don't understand about this order?"
                              
"No... madam," he groaned, still rubbing his ear and avoiding her eyes.
                              
"Good. Do not make me do this, again, Blaise," she said. "I expect you to come to see her twice a week."
                              
"Twice? I don't...."
                              
"Make it three times a week. Keeping arguing and you can go every day like Harry!" she threatened and Blaise held his tongue. "Blaise, this isn't punishment. You might think you're fine but you are not. You aren't invincible. I've seen you crack under the pressure already, remember? If, Merlin-forbid, something were to happen to your friends, to Neville, you wouldn't be able to function. You can deny that you need help all you want, but I know better."
                              
Blaise looked at the floor petulantly and didn't answer her. 
                              
"Go on," she said and he went inside the depressing waiting area and knocked on the office door. 
                              
"Enter," Madam Denkar said.
                              
Blaise went in and immediately took the seat by the fire. "Ratted me out, huh?"
                              
"I gave you two chances to show up... three, technically, as you are five minutes late."
                              
"I do have class to teach. I can't just run out as soon as it's over."
                              
"I will take that into allowance. How are you feeling?"
                              
"Really? We're going to just jump right into it? I don't think so. I'm required to show up, not participate."
                              
"Blaise... the hardest part of recovery is acknowledging that you are hurt and need help."
                              
"What a load of tripe. All of this is. I didn't ask for help when I was actually hurting, what makes you think that I want any now? That was years ago."
                              
"And those people that were hurting you, would have they hurt you if you sought help back then, correct?"
                              
"Asking subtle ferreting questions isn't going to get you anywhere, Denkar," he snapped.