Author's Note: I want to start off saying that this is set in their sixth year. All the events in the books have happened up to this point. I plan on staying loosely connected to the book, but I might change my mind as the story unfolds.

Your reviews are greatly appreciated.

Enjoy!

Chapter One

Noxious

It had to be nearing seven in the morning judging by how the sunlight was slowly creeping across the ceiling through the open window. Blaise lay flat on his back in his bed with his sheets kicked every which way. He knew any moment now his pesky, younger sister Adriana would be coming into his room in attempts to rouse him from his slumber. He rolled over onto his stomach, letting the cool sheets slide further down his back. His right arm stretched across the silk sheets, his skin welcoming the coolness that seeped through his skin. He relished the feeling beneath his touch. It was a way for him to know he was still alive.

He let his eyes fall shut, and tried to shake off the burning sensation that ripped through them. He was not able to sleep for the past few days. He was trying his damnedest to, but he and his family had had a trying couple of weeks that seemed to hit a climax just a few nights ago. There was a battle brewing; a horrible, wretched battle that was proving itself inevitable in the passing months. The Zabini family prides itself on remaining a neutral force in times like these. Lord Voldemort had risen again and was rapidly gaining power and followers. His best mate, Draco Malfoy, was among them. The Ministry may choose to pull the wool over its eyes and pretend the threat is a hoax, a lie, but Blaise could feel his sinister presence in the world even before Potter had shouted it out from the rooftops.

What frightened Blaise the most was that the pull from light side was not nearly as strong as the hold the dark side had on him. The Malfoy's had always been good to Blaise and his family. Lucius Malfoy and his father, Bettino Zabini, had been childhood friends being raised in the same high society and with the same pureblood morals pounded in them from the moment they first stepped foot onto this earth. Blaise's father had chosen a different path, a path that led him away from Lord Voldemort while Lucius Malfoy clearly did not. Just last week, Lucius had called him to the Manor to discuss his family's stance. Lucius informed him of the difficult trials Draco would be faced with to prove his loyalty to the Dark Lord. Lucius implored Blaise to help Draco, to keep him safe. He nearly begged, but everyone knows that Malfoy's do not beg. Blaise wanted nothing more than to aid his friend, but knew the hardship that would come to his family if he were to accept. He could not let anything happen to his mother or sister.

Two nights ago, Draco had owled him a letter telling him he would be receiving the mark that evening. That was not the worst of it. Lord Voldemort had specifically requested a meeting with Blaise at the Malfoy Manor that night. Blaise was scared out of his wits. If he did decide to go or if he did not decide to go the outcome would be similar. The Dark Lord would be seething with his refusal to join. Draco was twisting this into some sort of honor, but Blaise knew better. Memories from the night before flooded his mind.

Blaise clapped the dust from his robes before stepping out of the fireplace. His palms had already begun to sweat before Draco greeted him. He guided him to a dark room at the end of the entrance hall. Blaise took in his surroundings. The cold ebony spanned the vast hall engulfing him in the abyss was very fitting for the task ahead. It was cold, unfeeling and sinister. He had run this very hall countless times in his childhood with Draco, but it seemed different now. All familiarity the hall once held was lost as they neared the heavy, cherry doors. The stale, damp smell of the room permeated his senses as it wafted through the cool air of the dungeon-like room.

The only light was from a large fire burning behind an old armchair stationed in the center of the small room. He could make out two figures around the chair, in which Voldemort occupied, his head hung low. He held his head between his long, spidery fingers; his eyes lay shut against his translucent skin. Blaise recognized the long, flaxen locks of Lucius Malfoy to the left. His pale, pointed face was half cast in shadow from the eerie darkness. Leaning on the right side of the chair was a tall woman with a thick, dark hair that was piled messily on top of her head, sticking out in all angles. The firelight revealed her gaunt, skull-like features to Blaise and he instantly knew her to be, Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Great," he thought. "Voldemort's hold over the dementors is allowing him access to all the crazies locked away in Azkaban."

"Now, now Mr. Zabini," came a chilling voice "I'm not sure, Bella would appreciate those offensive thoughts of yours." The voice sent shivers down Blaise's spine. His eyes darted to Lestrange's face quickly. She pulled back her lips, bearing her rotted teeth. He heard a low growl tear through her throat. Voldemort grinned slightly before continuing,"I presume you know why I have called you here tonight,"

"Yes," he stated, not letting his fear show through his voice.

"So what is your answer? Will the house of Zabini join our worthy cause or will you fall at our feet and grovel when the time comes?" His crimson eyes snapped to his, attempting so sift through his thoughts. Blaise tried to push thoughts of his mother and sister out of his mind. Trying to hide them from this creature before him.

"Ah, ah, ah, you cannot hide things from me, Mr. Zabini. I can see through you. Surely, you should know this by now. You cannot hide from Lord Voldemort or his faithful legion of followers."

Blaise did not break his stoic expression, but he could hear his heart pounding madly in his chest. Certainly everyone could, but he prayed to whatever divine power that existed that they did not taste his fear.

"We have made our decision a long time ago, and we stand by it." Blaise stated, glaring him in his scarlet slits.

Voldemort inhaled deeply through his snakelike nose before snarling "I see you still possess your father's insolence. You and the rest of your family will pay for this later."

"Leave them out of this!"

"Don't you see, boy? This is, and always will be, about them. It seems the Zabini's have yet to learn their lesson. Your father paid for his disrespect and you will pay for it tenfold." He raised his wand in the air and the fire roared into a putrid green behind him. Blaise took a chance to glance at Lucius' face. His face stayed expressionless, but his eyes grew wide with fear.

"Crucio!" Voldemort's lipless mouth yelled. "Crucio! Crucio!"

Blaise felt an intense, mind-numbing pain rip through his entire body all the way to the tips of his hair. He could faintly hear the woman Lestrange gaily cackling with her Master. He tried to not let the pain consume him, but his efforts were proven futile as he writhed around on the ground, groaning in pain, screaming in agony. After what seemed like an eternity the pain dulled. His whole body was humming. It felt like someone had dipped his body in molten lava and then dropped him on top of a snow covered peak, leaving him for dead. His mind was muddled, his vision blurry. A sharp pain ran through his body as something collided with his stomach a few times. He groaned, grabbing his stomach, and tried to breath air into his lungs. A foot connected with his face roughly before he felt his face being pressed painfully into the ground.

"Remember that pain, boy. It's nothing compared to what's to come." Voldemort's crimson eyes leered down at him. His foot pressing his face harder once more before stepping over his body, and marching through the doors. His robes billowing out menacingly behind him; Lestrange following close behind.

He could hear hushed voices whispering hurriedly about him. He vaguely registered strong hands grabbing him by the arms and pulling him to his feet. He saw Draco's pale hair out of the corner of his eye as he pulled Blaise's arm over his neck and wrapped his arm around his waist. Blaise could not make his legs work, he slumped against Draco's body. Draco dragged him down the same hall to the fireplace in the entrance hall. He grabbed a giant hand full of the glittery powder from the crystal bowl on the mantle. He hefted Blaise over his shoulder and into the fireplace with him, shouting, "Zabini Manor!" He felt the usual whirling of his surroundings before he fell out onto the cold, marble floor of his home.

"Draco, what happened?" his mother cried out as she sprinted to where he lay on the floor. He felt her reach for his hand, squeezing it tightly. She pushed the sweat from his brow with her free hand while she cast her eyes over to Draco.

"Vol--Voldemort," was all Draco could manage to sputter out.

The last thing he saw was the horrorstricken look on his mother's face before everything went black.

He was roused from his musing when the sound of pattering from little feet reached his ears, and he quickly snapped his eyes closed, feigning sleep. All that could be heard in the room was the low squeak of the open door and the sound of her tiny feet shuffling across the room. He felt the bed sink ever so slightly from her weight as she crawled up the bed.

"Bee," she breathed. "Wake up, Bee."

She lightly prodded him in the arm. He let his eyes slowly slide to her face which was now a mere three inches from his own. Her small hands reached for his face. She ran her fingers over the dark purple circles that had surfaced under his eyes. She took in his weary appearance, and bloodshot eyes before saying,

"Bee, you need to sleep. Mum won' like that thith is making you thay awake."

"I would have slept if someone hadn't woken me up."

He watched as the corners of her mouth turned up, showing the empty space where her front tooth occupied just two days ago. It was her last baby tooth and she could not have been more excited when she pulled it out the other day. Her dark, chestnut curls fell playfully in her emerald eyes as she poked his arm again before snuggling closer to him.

"Bee, mum wan's you down for breakfath real thoon," she whispered. He felt a smile creep onto his face. Her lisp was becoming rather endearing.

"I'll be down in a minute, brat."

"No!" she quickly jumped up. "Come now!"

While she continued to jump around on the bed Blaise sat up, grabbed her around the middle, pulled her back down, and began to tickle her lightly around her ribs. She erupted into giggles, struggling to get out of his clutches. She squirmed around, kicking his bed covers around further before she managed to get out her protests.

Sitting up, she smacked him lightly in the arm, "Bad, Bee!"

Blaise let out a chuckle as he rose from the bed, looking down at his baby sister.

"Yes, I know. Very bad, Bee."

He grabbed a shirt he had tossed on his armchair the night before and pulled it over his head. He glanced over at his sister who wiggled her finger at him.

"Mum, won' be happy if you are late."

He laughed and walked over to the edge of the bed where she sat. Kneeling down to make his face level with hers, he bopped her on the nose lightly with his finger.

"Well, brat," he scooped her off the bed and into his arms. "Let's not have her wait any longer."

Blaise walked down the hallway to the ornate marble staircase leading to the entry way with Adriana tucked in his arm. His hand grasped onto the cool ivory railing that slid easily beneath his fingers as he strode down the staircase. He poked her lightly in the ribs as they rounded the corner.

"What do you think we're having for breakfast today, brat?"

She tilted her head to the side for a moment, pausing for a moment to sniff the air. The pleasant aroma of sweet, homemade pancakes filled his nostrils and engulfed his senses. "Pancakes," she exclaimed. "I want pancakes! Pancakes!"

"Okay, pancakes it is," he said chuckling, placing her in a chair at the table.

"Good morning, dear," his mother said as she bustled about the kitchen. Blaise approached his mother, kissing her lightly on the cheek. She glanced at his face quickly, then she turned to face him fully, noticing his weary appearance. She pursed her lips, giving him a stern look, "Blaise, sleep and stop worrying, sweetheart. It will make you ill."

"I never get sick, mum." He reached his arm behind her head to grab the plates. He turned from her and began to place them accordingly onto the table.

"If you carry on like this you will," she called over her shoulder. "Adriana, honey, help your brother set the table."

"But, mum," she whined.

"Honey, now, or no pancakes for you."

Adriana hopped from her chair at once, bounced over to Blaise and ripped the last pieces of silverware out of his hands to finish setting the table. Blaise let out a chuckle, and walked over to where his mother was busily preparing the pancake batter. He leaned on the counter facing his mother; his eyes scanned over her face carefully. She was preaching to him to get some rest when she did not seem to bother taking her own advice. She looked utterly exhausted. Her thick mane of black curls fell loosely down her back, unwashed and unkempt. His eyes followed her hair up to her strong jaw taking note of the frown lines that seemed to be permanently marking her mouth these past few weeks. They continued up her straight nose, pausing briefly at the dark rings that marred the fair skin beneath her bloodshot eyes. He watched her hands stirring madly at the mixing bowl in front of her.

"Mum," he whispered, grabbing her arms as he spoke, "Stop it. Let me help."

He took the bowl from her hands, prying the beater from her fingers, and continued her previous movements. She sighed heavily before running her hands through her hair for what he presumed was probably the hundredth time that morning. She stared down at the floor, eyes wide and face blank. Her far off expression shook him to the core.

"I don't understand why you don't just get elves to do this sort of work. You look ghastly." He playfully nudged her with his elbow, grinning. She smiled slowly, but continued to stare at the marble floor.

"It helps keep me distracted. Besides, you know I could never have an elf. It seems so incredibly cruel." She paused and lifted her eyes slowly to meet his. "Blaise, I'm worried."

He stopped his ministrations and pushed the bowl aside. He rested his hand lightly on her shoulder. Her hand reached up and squeezed his lightly.

"Mum, everything is going to be fine. I promise."

Her eyes grew wide with fear as she spoke, "Bee, I don't know how much more of this I can take. I'm ready to break. They could up and take either one of you at anytime. I--I couldn't handle that." She hiccuped as the unshed tears began to fill her eyes.

"Shh, mum," he said, pulling her against him roughly into a tight hug. He tucked her head tightly beneath his chin before he spoke, "You can't think like that."

"Oh, Blaise, but h--ow can I n--not. They ta--ake your father and--" she sucked in a deep breath.

"Nothing will happen. I won't let it." He murmured into her hair as he rubbed small circles on her back. "We'll figure this out."

"You are too young for this, Bee," she whispered softly into his neck. She clutched at him tighter, pulling him closer, as if he would disappear before her eyes if she even thought of letting go.