A/N: Thanks to 2D and Holly for the betas!
It was days like this where he really questioned his life choices. A Death Eater in training, following after the most evil wizard in history like a fucking sheep. Still, these small moments of defiance were what kept him alive, kept him human.
Blaise was sitting on the abandoned Quidditch stands, avoiding all the duties the Carrows had set for him, chain-smoking cigarette after cigarette. No, there was to be no torturing first-years or unsuspecting Muggle-borns today. The sky was overcast, rain coming down in a thick layer of drizzle, but he ignored the damp clothes sticking to his skin. The entire point, after all, of his brooding and duty-ignoring was proving how little he cared. He was playing the part of the cool, unbothered Slytherin prince perfectly, as he had been for the past few months. The charade was getting tiring, however, and he wished, more than anything, that he could go back and fix his many mistakes.
Blaise fumbled for the cigarette carton, the soggy cardboard slipping between his fingers. When he reached inside, it was empty.
"Fuck," he growled, letting his voice carry loudly over the abandoned pitch. It's not like anyone would hear him, much less care. That was the last packet of smokes Theo had given him, and the other boy had warned him that the usual trade of Muggle goods would be stopping. It was getting far too dangerous, and even Theo, ever the entrepreneur, was not willing to risk his life for the sake of some Jack Daniels.
"Blaise!" A familiar voice called out to him, and Blaise turned, raising one hand in acknowledgment. "Merlin, Blaise, what are you doing out here?" Daphne panted, her breaths coming in short and sharp. "The Carrows have had me running all over the place looking for you."
Blaise shrugged wordlessly and turned to gaze over the deserted grounds once more. Daphne rolled her eyes and sat down on the wooden bench next to him. "Don't be such a drama queen, Zabini." Blaise looked at her sharply, raising an eyebrow, and Daphne put up her hands in protest. "What? You don't see any of the rest of us moping. I'm fine, Theo's running his underground black market or whatever, and Pansy...Well, Pansy's doing whatever Pansy does."
"I'm just having a bit of alone time," Blaise grumbled. "Just needed a couple of seconds to myself, away from everything."
"I think you meant to say: hey, I know how I want to get us all killed today?" The way Daphne said it made Blaise unsure whether she was joking or not, but then a small smile started playing at the corner of her lips and she let out a soft laugh. "Oh, Zabini, so easy to tease. But really, what's got you in such a mood?"
"Don't you ever think-" Blaise started, then sighed, mulling over his words. These days, they had to be chosen carefully, or, who knows, they could cost you your life. "Don't you feel bad. What we're doing...We're not the heroes of this story, Daph."
"That's not exactly news to me." For a moment, a shadow fell over her usually sunny face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "We can't all be Saint Potter, but I think it's up to us to just be happy, you know."
He pulled a face and she laughed, as if realising how ridiculous what she was said sounded. "Okay, maybe not happy, but alright. Like, if we just stick together, we'll survive. So no going off and moping and leaving the rest of us to clean up after your messes, okay?"
She poked a finger into his chest, mock-stern and pretending to tell him off. Blaise went along with the joke, laughing and bantering, but it just felt like another mask he had to hold in place. Soon, it was time to head back to the castle, and together they trudged back through the sodden grass. The air felt thicker as they got closer to the castle, and when the wind was just right, Blaise could hear the blood-curdling screams of tortured children carried towards him on it.
They walked into the castle to where the Carrows were putting on a special display, especially for him, Blaise thought as he saw Amycus' manic smile. He shivered, and Daphne put an arm around his shoulder, and smiled up at him. He noted absently that she looked almost the same as she did in their first year, a mane of golden curls and wide, innocent eyes. It almost tricked him into believing they hadn't already fucked everything up, that their future was still laid out before them, promising and bright.
But then, when they were back in the dorm and she had run out of brave smiles and inspiring words, she locked herself in the bathroom and cried until the soft colours of dawn touched the horizon. Her sobs were like shards of glass, piercing Blaise through the heart, and despite all of her optimism, he thought she was the most broken of them all.