Home
Disclaimer: I don't own HP.
A/N: For the Hogwarts Online II prompt of the day for April 15th 2012.
"We're bound by our choices."
He could understand that. He was bound by the choices his mother made for him and his choice to accept that fact.
Blaise lost his home, his small shred of belonging, when his mother decided that it was time for Jake, Dimitri, or whoever the husband was at that point in time to die. Blaise could begrudgingly understand why she did it, why she killed them in bizarre freak accidents, she didn't love them and she only loved the money. So it was safe to say that when she securely had the money in her hands that was when she would get rid of the annoyances that she leeched from.
Blaise still hated it. He had loathed her actions and the feeling of being yanked in dozens of different places without one permanent sanctuary or haven for himself since he was four years old when his father died. Blaise believed he died because of a Muggle robbery gone wrong. Whatever, it may have been his mother had changed radically from sweet, naïve, and loyal to vindictive, manipulative, and cold hearted. Blaise didn't see the mother he had loved in the past anymore. Even when her sun-kissed cold arms wrapped themselves around him in a rare sign of affection or when she told him she did it all to protect her light, her baby boy.
That may have been the reason she let herself become so entangled in corrupt and sickening games where tangy, acidic blood was spilled in "fair play" but she didn't do it anymore for him. Now she did it because it was the only thing that made her feel vibrant and she loved the risks.
Blaise remembers vaguely a place where he felt loved and cared for but that place was in the fairly modest house where his father laughed and blissful waves flowed through the air. That was where Blaise never heard a scream, sobs, or even biting words in the heat of an argument.
He missed the way the house made him feel safe and like he belonged. However, that was all a distant memory and Blaise couldn't even remember what the house looked like or where it was anymore. All Blaise could remember was the feelings of joy.
He missed what he had so long ago but Blaise had come to terms that he would never have that again. How could he when his mother was out tonight to bring home another unsuspecting victim?
Blaise was strong. Blaise could deal with the cold and stark world. He could deal with its unforgiving and manipulative ways. The queen of manipulation raised him; he could play the tune better than most. Blaise didn't need the childish comforts of his past. They hardly seemed at place with the world today, after all the Dark Lord was expected to return any day now.
So why was it that when he thought those words and said them aloud did he get the feeling that he was not convincing anyone and that the words were only there to comfort him? Damn, his sharp and observing mind. What would admitting to any of that do for him? He was still, in a sense, homeless and lost. He didn't even belong with his classmates who all knew his mother's past.
Would he ever be able to find a home to fill the void?
He doubted it. He was a "black widow's son raised to become just like his mother" and society didn't have a place for him. Not unless he wanted to become his mother and he never would.
So with those thoughts fresh in his mind it was no wonder that when Malfoy, Draco, came to offer him a place of belonging in the Death Eater ruled world after Potter died that he entertained the idea. However, he wasn't stupid. He knew if anything he would be tossed aside so he said no. He said no when approached by the "Light" side as well.
For a boy that wanted a home he sure didn't act like it staying at the sidelines. But the only reason he remained impartial was because he didn't want to ruin the slightest chance of finding a purpose and belonging. Even though his actions mostly burned the chances he had been given and left him with nothing in the end.
But what could anyone expect? He didn't have a home and didn't have one in most of his past so how could he know how to get one? Therefore he was just the wandering Slytherin, never truly belonging or committing.
He hoped to find a home. He thought he might. Blaise just wasn't sure when but in the rumble left behind after the War he was sure he could scavenge something. He had to. For what could he do if he couldn't? He would be doomed.
With boulders of pressure on his shoulders he went looking for something, anything, and then he found it. He never let go of her or their home together. He couldn't stand the silence, the feeling of loneliness, that he had been so familiar with as a child and a young adult.
Luckily, she never let him feel that again.
(In the past he may have been bound by the choices his mother and he, himself, had made but now he was only freed with the choices he made.)