Disclaimer: As much as I would love to, I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter - that privilege belongs to J K Rowling, and a whole host of other people including Warner Bros and Bloomsbury. I'm just using the characters in my own little way.

Authors Note: I don't really know where this came from, but I just had to write it down. I can't see it belonging to any story but it was just a shot of how I thought Blaise might be from the books. So I know its not much but I wanted to put it here anyway. -Shrugs- If you like it or have any comments please review!

Wasted dreams

Blaise Zabini had it all, or so it looked from the point of many within the Hogwarts Walls. A seventh year Slytherin prefect, second only in the snake house to their prince Draco Malfoy, known for his devilish good looks and charm, high marks in all his subjects without exerting himself, and from a prestigiously wealthy family. Realistically what more could someone want?

But that was the problem, even the handsome black boy realised that he should be happy with his lot, should be. But that didn't mean that he was. All through his life he had been overlooked, he doubted whether many of the other seventh year students necessarily knew who he was without referring to him as 'that Slytherin Prefect'. His mother overlooked him for whichever rich deatheater or old millionaire she could sink her claws into at any given time. Draco overlooked him for boulders that made faithful shadows without questioning whatever idiotic command he gave them. And she, she overlooked him constantly.

Large hazel eyes flecked with gold running over his presence without a second glance. It was as though he was invisible to her. No she only seemed to notice those that were within the lime light, or those who were bad enough not to even need that. She noticed perfect Potter, though realistically Blaise wished no ill harm to the scarheaded boy, for he was practically in the same position as Blaise himself – no free will, pushed into any scenario that was necessary, and she almost certainly noticed Malfoy. Malfoy who was too stupid to notice what was right in front of his aristocratic nose. Too proud to put aside ridiculous family rivalries to appreciate the delicate beauty that offered him sly glances from under her thick black lashes at almost every meal within the Great Hall.

No, Blaise whilst having had a prestigious upbringing had never had the things he truly dreamt about. He never had been able to consider choices and free will, as it was as though he never had them to begin with. Being forced into being a Death Eater as a punishment for his father's failures, being put forward for missions that were too ridiculous to ever actually make any difference to the Dark Lord's plans, just because he had the exotic beauty many admired from his mother, and which made Blaise himself coveted by many.

What was the point? The dark skinned boy wondered, staring up at the falsely stared ceiling within the Great Hall. What's the point in dreaming? He knew he could never have a future with freedom within it. One where he chose a path not necessarily of Slytherin origins. What's the point in hope? He knew she would never look at him with those large innocent doe eyes of hers and actually see him. Not the quiet, fade in to the shadows persona he adopted for moving around this school undetected. Not the underage Death Eater being forced to commit crimes against humanity for something that was worse than any living creature found on this planet. But simply him, the boy who wanted nothing more than to be seen and understood and have his dreams validated the way any seventeen year old deserved to.

All Blaise Zabini wanted in life was choice and a chance with Ginny Weasley.

AN: Thanks for reading :)