She stood by the lake, gazing up to the heavens. I hesitated. She was never one of solitude. That was me. I was the one to be by myself, observing and waiting. The one almost forgotten about by my fellow slytherins and classmates, the one unheard of by the rest of the school. Oh sure, they had heard about my mother. Who hadn't? But Mother went by a different name. We had only shared the same last name for a few years after my birth. I believe I am the only one left with my surname. Zabini. I like it. It is exotic, and tells everyone for the reasoning of my dark features and olive skin. That is, if they looked.
She had looked. And had told me so in that forward way of hers, back in first year. "I didn't realise the Italians didn't have schools of magic."
Though I was not young in many ways, having lost my innocence at that tender age of four, I had had no experience with girls. Or with being asked a question. And she, so confident, stood waiting, with those amber eyes. Waiting for my explanation, for my response.
Of course I had baulked. Normally, on the rare occasion that someone spoke directly to me, I could nod, or look down, or stare blankly until they walked away, confirming the general consensus that the Lady Melania's son was rather slow, a shame considering her beauty, intelligence and wealth. But that time, I couldn't. Those eyes caught mine, seeing through my act. And I found myself telling her the reason I was in England, at Hogwarts and why no one had heard of me, despite my mother's name. I was repeating what had always been repeated for me when we had moved to a new life. I was repeating what I had been determined to leave behind in Italy, Austria and Russia. Because I couldn't help myself. Because I couldn't help but be captivated by those eyes. And she had smiled, knowingly.
Oh she played the game. Better than most slytherin girls. I fell for her that first year. But I was certainly not her first or last victim. The boys kept coming, trying their chance with the copper haired slytherin. Most could not understand why she was not in gryffindor. She was warm, bubbly, popular; the positive traits that most gryffindors exemplified on a day to day basis. I certainly could see through this carefully structured mask, though. She knew exactly what she wanted, and would not be one for stupid heroic death wishes. I suppose the other slytherins saw through it too, as they certainly accepted her. Or maybe they just fell under her charm too. Draco certainly wasted no time in flirting once Pansy was out of the proximity.
And so I watched her as she grew even better with the game. Dancing on the edge as anyone and everyone tried their chance with her. And sometimes, she would let one on to the edge with her for a little while. And they would raise her to new heights. Heights where she wouldn't take them. And they would become forgotten.
I understood this clearly, watching her. And, as I loved her, I didn't want to be forgotten, yet again. So I reached her from a different angle, one no guy had tried. I became her friend, her confidant. At first she was confused.
"I don't love you," she said.
And I said, "I know."
But, after that we grew closer. And though we both knew that she knew I loved her, there would be times we could both forget, and we would be free from our confines. And I was happy for the first time.
Of course, as I grew, I found that a few girls started noticing my features. My mother, who had barely looked at me before, proclaimed one holiday that I was handsome, rich words from her. And so, with the money I had in a trust, I left each holiday to a different country where I built on my knowledge of the world; wealth and deceit. But I also became wise in the game of love, and how to mingle it with the game of Life. What she knew. And the others did not.
And when I returned, for her, many noticed the difference. The majority of the girls noticed me, and now my quietness was not considered shyness or stupidness, but confidence and mystery. Even self-absorbed Draco noticed. "How come you get all the girls?" he whined. "I just get Pansy. It's not like I'm not good looking. You don't even say anything!"
I laughed. "Perhaps that's the appeal," I responded.
But she. She must have noticed, the school was buzzing with the hot new topic of Blaise Zabini. But she made no indication of realisation, but treated me as she always had done. I suppose because I treated her the way I always had done. Even though my love for her grew harder on me.
And so that day came. The last day. When the rest of the school were on the other side of the lake, crying over the death of Dumbledore. And there she was, standing by the water's edge, looking up towards the sun. It was a beautiful summer's day, and yet she was alone. And the red in her brown hair shone through as the sun light danced on her head, yet she shivered. I frowned and took the courage, that I never had around her, to walk to her.
"Daphne?" I placed my hands on her arms and pressed my chest against her back. She immediately tensed as she looked around. Despite all her flirting, and so called relationships, no one had ever called her a whore. Perhaps she was too liked, even once she had broken a relationship. Or perhaps she was still a virgin.
She relaxed when she realised it was me. "Oh, Blaise. You scared me."
I said nothing but rubbed her arms.
"The end of another school year," she said breezily. Yet, her words were clear as day, and I, too, shivered, despite the heat of the sun. She wouldn't be back next year. Would I?
"Blaise?" she looked up again.
"Yes?"
"You know how I told you I love summer?"
"Yes." Daphne, the summer of slytherin.
"I lied," she said forcefully.
There was a silence, before she turned in my arms to look at me. And her face was vulnerable, yet open, like that first time, all those years ago. And her amber eyes shone with sorrow and regret.
"I know." And I did know. Finally, I did know. I could see what I hadn't seen. Me, who prided myself on my observations.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. And I was sorry too. But I could not say anything. She reached up and kissed my cheek. And then she walked away. Her copper hair flying behind her in the slight breeze. And the phoenix started singing.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please review!!
